#Listen - I understand the need to want to meet people halfway

[shinobicyrus]

Listen. I'm not foolish enough to expect the Democratic nominee to proudly proclaim some socialist stance. That's just the state of American politics and its terminally myopic two-party system.

This need to appeal to the capital "M" Moderate, though? It's just the steady shift of Democratic policies further to the Right. It's how you get six Republicans speaking at the DNC, but not a single Palestinian-American speaker. It's how you get, for the first time in 12 years, no trans speakers at the DNC during a time when the GOP have put transphobia and anti-queer policies at the forefront of their platform.

Rather than dismiss or ignore the tired Socialist/Marxist/Communist accusations that Republicans fling at everyone to the left of fucking Sauron, Harris feels the need to tell people in an official public speech: "Look, I'm a capitalist."

This is a thing that no one asked or even thought about except for the most terminally online far-right trolls that weren't gonna vote for her anyway. Yet, she felt the need to reassure everyone she isn't some "radical." Whatever that means. This is how you have Harris promising to pass that failed bi-partisan immigration bill that Donald Trump sabotaged. Which, in case everyone forgot, would have been one of the toughest and harshest to date. Can't look weak against immigrants and asylum seekers!

This is how you have the Democratic Nominee for President promising to keep the US military the "strongest, most lethal fighting force in the world."

This is how you have the Democratic Nominee for President's economic policies compared to Mitt Goddamn Romney's.

Anyone remember the Romney's presidency? No, of course not, because he lost.

Will Harris defeat Trump in 2024? There's a good chance that she might win - or perhaps more accurately - that Trump will lose. I truly hope for this outcome.

But what about 2028? 2032? What about when someone less personally offensive than Trump but every bit as fascistic inevitably tops the GOP ticket? One a little more disciplined in speech, less prone to inane ramblings, and lacks dozens of indictments? How can the Democratic Party, ostensibly the "left wing" of American politics, supposed to stay competitive and distinguish themselves in a political arena when they're constantly ceding ground to the Right on immigration, military spending, the economy, guns; trying to hush controversial issues like "human rights for queer people," or "being a party to genocide" in a desperate attempt to appeal to some shrinking "moderate" demographic?

What do they have left, when all they can say is "well at least we're not weird like those guys"?

When NBC News of all organizations asked about the DNC's lack of trans speakers this year or the scaling back of discussions about queer rights, it was met only with silence:

"The DNC and the Harris campaign declined to comment."

Cool.

[runariya]

Beyond Probability JJK (m.)

summary: Matching with an idol? Unlikely. But with a 99% compatibility? Beyond probability. pairing: idol!Jungkook x f!reader genre: idolvers, S2L, fluff, smut rating: 18+, MDNI! warnings: fluff, fluff, a bit of self doubt, fluff, fluff, explicit sexual content, shower sex, unprotected sex, pls lmk if I forgot smth word count: ~ 4k

a/n: It’s a rly cute and short oneshot, light and mainly fluff, nothing too deep, no big words etc this time. Just had to get it out of my system since the idea’s been on my mind for months now (unedited bc I fell ill halfway through writing it 🤒)

a/n 2: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

Your biological clock’s ticking—has been for some years now—and even though you’re only now nearing 30, you’re painfully aware that the life you pictured as a kid might never come true.

It’s not like you’re unstable in who you are or what you’re doing. You’re fairly successful at your job, you’ve got your own place, and you’re more social than most people these days. Still, you’re only what most would call average-looking, and even though you’ve got a good career, you’re too soft to keep it up forever. You picture yourself more as a loving wife and mother than a corporate boss bitch climbing the ladder of success.

That’s also why your dating life has been rocky all along. Men see what you put out there, but they don’t like who you really are or what you want from life, which has left you single for most of it.

So, when a new project starts—after the K-pop industry finally acknowledges that idols need partnerships and a life of their own, and fans finally understand that these people are human too, that they deserve to experience love and happiness like everyone else—you decide to take your chances too.

Funnily enough, all the labels have teamed up, hiring not only the best scientists and psychologists from Korea but from around the world to create a program that can find ideal matches for their idols. Sure, science shouldn’t determine who you fall in love with, but… what if it could?

After being pre-selected—just to confirm you’re not some crazed fan—you’ve spent over two weeks going through tests. Recorded interviews, personality assessments, even physical evaluations… now you’re staring at your company’s computer screen, listening to Dr. Song explain the results through the phone. 

“Ninety-nine percent?”

“Yes. The chances of such a high compatibility score are next to impossible. We see it as a perfect match and would like to introduce you to your match.”

“Sure, of course.” Even though your voice is steady, you can feel your nerves flaring up like never before.

“Is tomorrow at 8 p.m. alright for you?”

“Yes, that works for me.”

“Perfect, we’ll see you then.”

Well, joke’s on you, you didn’t expect this outcome. 

Meeting an idol feels surreal, and the closer you get to 8 p.m. the next day, the more you can feel the anxiety and doubts inside you rising. Every last detail in Dr. Song’s calm, clinical rundown replays in your mind, the ninety-nine percent match, the endless rounds of testing, the surreal realisation that, somehow, all those numbers and algorithms miraculously spat out a name next to yours. 

You want to trust that there’s a reason for this, that somehow science isn’t just working with chance, but the tension of actually meeting someone this special is so overwhelming you barely notice yourself entering the lab building until you’re standing outside Dr. Song’s office.

“Right on time,” she chirps, giving you an approving nod. She seems to sense your nerves, and as she leads you down a hallway you’ve never been before, she gives you a reassuring smile. “I know this is all a lot. But he’s likely feeling the same way. The tests told us that he’s, well, quite like you.”

Her words would make you laugh in any other situation, though disbelief and a strange kind of comfort floods through you still. Like you. An idol, standing here in a lab somewhere to meet some random stranger, feeling just as out of place as you. You’re not sure of that but still like to think it must be true. 

You don’t have time to process it fully before you’re led into a quiet room with yellowish walls so plain they almost blur in the corners of your vision, a low, comfortable couch and a couple of chairs standing there and none of the lab equipment that surrounded you in the testing rooms all those weeks ago. 

And then you spot him, sitting on the couch, alone. He stands the second you walk in, hands half in his pockets, a slight, almost unsure smile grazing his lips as he glances down at you. He’s got that casual look about him, the same dark eyes you’ve seen a hundred times on a screen that somehow feel warmer and more human here. 

He looks not quite better than he does on screen, but not worse either. Somehow, he’s realer, if that’s a word—close enough that you can see the little flecks of colour in his irises, the slight tension in his posture, the faintest trace of nerves hiding under his composure.

“Hi.” Jungkook’s voice is lower, softer than you expect from an idol. “Nice to meet you, I’m Jungkook.”

“Nice to meet you too. I’m ___.” There’s a pause, and you can tell he’s just as unsure what to do with the space between you two as you are. The click of the door makes you turn around briefly, only to realise Dr. Song has left you both alone. “This is, um, weird, right?”

He nods, a quick, breathy laugh breaking through. “Very. I mean, this isn’t exactly a ‘normal’ kind of meeting, right?”

His words are awkward but disarming, and suddenly, you’re aware of all the tiny, meticulous details of him that somehow make him feel more relatable than his polished, on-screen persona. The way his hand keeps moving to rub against his thigh or abs, his tongue playing with his lips and piercing ever so slightly—everything about him is familiar but also somehow close enough to feel completely new.

“I don’t think I was ready for this,” you admit. You aren’t really talking to him but more like letting your own thoughts slip out in the safest way possible, like saying it makes it feel less absurd.

“Honestly, same.” He laughs, and you think there’s a light flutter in your chest now. “I kept thinking about this whole ninety-nine percent thing. Like… how does that even work? Isn’t it supposed to feel, I don’t know, obvious? Like you know the moment you see someone?”

You nod, understanding exactly what he means, and somehow you move on autopilot, walking towards him and sitting down on that couch with him beside you. It feels like you should both somehow know, like there’s a sign or an instant connection, something that would make all of this feel simple, easy. But it’s just the two of you in a quiet room, barely knowing each other, held together by nothing but a number on a report.

“Yeah, that’s so wild. I didn’t think I’d have a match, this close to a hundred even less. Might be a glitch if our score is this high.”

Jungkook nods with sparkling eyes, seemingly relieved by your honesty and humour. “Yeah, I get that. I kept thinking about it too. Wondering if maybe the tests were wrong, or maybe I was just…thinking too much.” He lets out a sigh, his gaze meeting yours for a long, meaningful second. “But I think maybe this is about finding out, right? Not having it all make sense right away.”

“Hm, makes sense.” You giggle, because what else can you do in the presence of him.

The two of you sit there in a momentary silence, as if testing each other, feeling out the small boundaries that keep you both distant.

“So, what did the report tell you about me?” You ask the question half-jokingly, trying to break the quiet, but also curious. You want to know what he knows, how much of this supposed ninety-nine percent compatibility is actually something that either of you feel. 

He lets out a silent breath, looking down as if slightly embarrassed. “Honestly, not as much as you’d think. They told me you were kind of… soft-spoken but resilient? And that you have a job that’s, uh, stable and…” He trails off, the tips of his ears slightly pink, like he’s embarrassed to keep going.

“And?” You can’t help but push further—not maliciously, just way too curious and playful for your own good. Jungkook’s expression shifts from embarrassed to surprised, and then to a look that’s just as playful.

“And that we’re, apparently, very much sexually compatible.”

Really, you should be the one feeling embarrassed or shy now, but you can’t help the laugh that slips out. You know exactly what he’s hinting at—your report clearly showed the same.

“Well, it might be not wrong. And they told me…” You pause, realising that you barely remember the details in the face of the reality in front of you but alas. “They said you’d be a good match because, I think, there was something about humour?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Humour? Never heard of it.” And it makes you laugh all over again. “I feel like they just told us things we’d want to hear, to make it seem easier and normal.”

His words hit close to home, but they’re strangely comforting in the way he says them. You reckon, he’s just as bewildered by this as you are, maybe even more so. And somehow, in the middle of all the awkwardness, you find yourself genuinely smiling at him, naturally gravitating towards him, finding that there’s a softness and reassurance in his gaze, a gentleness that cuts through your nerves like a knife through melted butter in the sun. 

You start talking more freely after that, exchanging stories that are too mundane to make sense in any real context but feel right here. You tell him about your last trip to the beach, how you got sunburned and spent the whole evening sitting on your balcony, nursing it with iced water and aloe, wishing for a helping hand that you didn’t have. He laughs, nodding along as if he can picture it exactly and tells you about how he tried to make pasta he ate in Italy for the first time a few months back and ended up burning the whole batch, because no one was by his side, so badly his kitchen smelled like smoke for days.

The more you talk, the more you notice the little things about him that aren’t so polished, aren’t so perfect, and make him feel more human and real than anyone you ever met. He has a way of listening, eyes intent on yours, like he’s trying to pick apart every word to understand it better. When he laughs, it’s with his whole face, even body, not the careful, composed look of an idol but a natural, carefree laugh that makes you feel like maybe he’s as relieved as you are to be here, to have someone he doesn’t have to impress. 

At some point, you both lapse into a comfortable silence, each lost in your own thoughts but somehow still connected. The tension from earlier has faded away, replaced by a soothing aura you know you don’t want to miss for a day in your life.

Eventually, Jungkook glances over at you, his eyes sucking you in without much resistance. “I kept thinking this would feel forced, you know? Like we’d be sitting here, struggling to find anything in common.” He leans back, drapes his arm around the back of where you’re sitting, glancing up at the ceiling as if searching for the right words. “But… it doesn’t feel that way. You feel… I don’t know, right?”

The slight flutter in your chest has now swelled into a full-blown hurricane, and you’re not sure if it’s that ninety-nine percent compatibility causing it. But you don’t let yourself think too much—not when you’ve both been inching closer with each word, not when you take a chance and lean in, resting your head against his side. Especially not when his arm settles directly over your shoulder, pulling you a little closer, his other hand finding yours, fingers intertwining just to see how it feels.

“Yeah, it feels right. I really like this.”

As you absently play with his fingers, breathing in his scent for the first time and deciding it’s like heaven, you let yourself trust science. Because this feels like exactly where you’re meant to be.

While the first meeting with Jungkook went better than you’d ever hoped, you’re painfully aware of your overthinking nature. Overthinking in a way that makes it painfully clear there are countless women out there who, on the surface, would seem a better visual match for him than you.

Overthinking to the point where you wonder why Jungkook would even need matchmaking when he could so easily choose a partner on his own. It’s also why staying focused at work isn’t exactly easy today, knowing that soon his label will be sending a car to pick you up for your next meeting with him.

You understand the precautions they’ve taken and completely agree it’s better to meet in a private, safe space rather than making headlines this early on. That’s why, as the tinted car arrives, you feel a bit more at ease than you have all day.

Soon enough, you’re driving down the path to the label’s underground garage, and while you fix your makeup real quick, the car comes to a stop. The driver nods and guides you towards the lift, where the lights are dim and everything has this quiet, professional atmosphere you’ve only seen on screen.

You try to take it all in, letting your thoughts settle just a bit more as you follow through to the hallways upstairs, past doors labelled with room numbers and studios, and then finally, you’re outside the door to Jungkook’s studio, right where you’re supposed to meet.

Your heart beats a little faster as you hear Jungkook’s familiar voice call out, “Come in,” and when you open the door, you find him leaning casually against the chair before his equipment with an easy smile that somehow manages to be both happy and slightly flirty. 

Again, Jungkook’s dressed just like uniquely him, with a few silver rings glinting on his fingers. And while you didn’t think he’d even get up to greet you, he steps forward and embraces you in hug so tight, it leaves you drowning in him. 

“Hey,” he greets with that disarming grin, eyes boring into you, taking in your formal work attire, as he gestures to the coffee set up besides his laptop. “Hope you don’t mind the casual vibe.”

You laugh a little, settling onto the free chair beside him, feeling a bit strange but somehow not. “I think it’s perfect. And to be honest, I don’t think I’d cope well with the whole five-star dining treatment and whatnot.”

He laughs, nodding in agreement, taking your purse from your hands and draping it casually over the back of his chair. The fact that he’s still so attentive, even though he’s clearly in his element here but completely relaxed, is rather fascinating and pulls you in even more.

Like the day before, talking with him comes easy, and while there’s nothing groundbreaking in your conversations, every word feels meaningful in the bigger picture.

Eventually, you feel yourself relaxing like you were at home by your own, getting comfortable enough to let out the thoughts that have been swimming in your head since last night. “I’ve thought a lot about how all of this could play out,” you admit, taking a sip of your coffee, trying to find the right words, though knowing there won’t be any wrong words when talking with Jungkook. “And honestly, I’m not really interested in taking things public if they did work out. I know that’s probably strange to say, but I’m not cut out for the spotlight.”

He tilts his head, watching you thoughtfully. “No, it’s not strange at all. I get it.”

A small smile tugs at your lips as you go on, “I just want something real. A partner who’s loyal, someone who’s there because we get each other, not because we’re some public ‘it’ couple, parading around every chance we get. Does that sound crazy?”

He shakes his head, while he swings from one side to the other.  “Not at all. That actually sounds perfect to me.” There’s a sincerity in his tone that makes you feel, for the first time, like there’s some truth to your report. “The whole ‘idol’ thing is just a job. It’s not who I am, not at the core. And having someone who sees it that way, is what I want too.”

It elates you to know that you could have something like this, with him,  someone you could genuinely share your life with.

Then, in a thoughtful voice, he asks, “What do you want for the future? I mean, outside all of this.” 

You take a breath, feeling a little nervous but wanting to be honest. It’s not like it’s news to him, seeing that this information’s written in the report he was handed. “I want something traditional. A home, a family, maybe staying home with kids, having that steady, grounded life. It sounds simple, I know, but it’s what I’ve always pictured.” You look up at him, expecting maybe a hint of judgement, but instead, you find him nodding, his eyes lighting up like a candle in the night.

“I don’t think that sounds simple at all, but meaningful.”

A shy smile forms on your lips as you add, “Sometimes I feel like people don’t see that side of things anymore, you know? Like everyone’s so focused on careers and success and everything else… and I get that, I do, but I’ve always just wanted something steady. Something I can hold on to.”

His hand finds yours, his fingers like second nature intertwine with yours, and the gesture is so simple yet so heartwarming that you feel like squealing out of happiness. “That’s exactly what I want too.” It’s nothing new to you too, but him saying that, seeing the honesty in his eyes, is better than any data shown to you. “I want that sense of home.”

You feel yourself falling a little harder, a little faster, and maybe that scares you a bit. You’ve seen the kind of attention he gets, the kind of girls that throw themselves at him, and it’s hard not to let those doubts creep in. Especially now. “I know this probably sounds insecure,” you start awkwardly, glancing away, “I think, I don’t know, maybe I’m not the kind of person someone like you would go for. I mean, you could have anyone, and not just because you’re an idol.”

He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, his thumb tracing soothing circles against your skin. And while his mouth opens to say something, the pull against your hand surprises you as much as him settling you in his lab. “Hey, don’t think like that. I’m here because I want to be. And trust me, I’m not looking for ‘anyone’. I’m looking for someone who gets me. And that someone is you, no?”

The look in his eyes is so genuine, so unguarded, that it’s hard to keep your heart from doing all sorts of stunts. He’s not the polished idol right now; he’s just Jungkook, being flirty, being compassionate, being so him, sitting in a cosy studio with his tattoos, his piercings, his moles, his beautiful smile, his whole presence more comfortable and inviting than you could have imagined.

And as he sits there, looking at you like you’re the only person in the world, you realise that you definitely don’t have to doubt this. Maybe it’s okay to let yourself believe that he’s here because he wants to be, that he’s falling for you irrevocably just as you’re falling for him. 

“Sooo… that means?” You know you need to be brave now, because if this isn’t a dream, you’d never forgive yourself for not taking the leap.

“That means, if you want to, I’d love to have you as my girlfriend.”

“Isn’t it a bit rushed?” You don’t actually think so, but you still need to be sure.

“I’m all in if you are. I don’t want to waste any more time, and even though it’s just a report, I can feel there’s real truth behind it.”

Fast forward seven months, and you find yourself pressed against the shower wall like you do every night. But this time, it’s different—just hours ago, you made your first public appearance on a music show with Jungkook, just because you both felt ready, where he was not only nominated for Best Singer of the Year but won as well.

“Koo, right there, right there.”

It still amazes you how his cock seems to find your g-spot as soon as he enters you, though you wouldn’t want it any other way.

“Yeah? Right there, hm? Or is it…” he trails off, shifting his hips ever so slightly, making you realise he’s actually hit the centre point of your g-spot now, his hard, unrelenting thrusts pushing you over the edge without warning.

“Oh my goooddd,” your eyes roll back, mouth hanging open against the cool shower wall, as your cunt keeps gripping him even though it’s already creaming around his cock.

“Good girl, keep going, love. Show me how many you can take tonight.”

There’s nothing you can do, not that you’d want to do anything other than let him rearrange your insides. Especially not when his tattooed hand finds its way from the back of your hair to your jaw, tilting your head to the side, giving you the perfect view of his upper body—rivulets of water cascading down his chiselled form, lips parted, eyebrows furrowed. 

He’s the epitome of perfection. Not just a ninety-nine percent but a hundred. 

His eyes, though hooded, bore into your soul as his hips pick up the pace. It’s this connection you share with him make being with him feel so special.

“Koo…”

“I know, love, just a bit more. Can you be a good girl?”

“Yes,” you moan, because hell, you can. “Yes, for you…ah, winning the trophy.”

Even though you shouldn’t feel his cock twitch with the pace he’s set, you do, realising instantly what he needs tonight.

“Best singer, Koo…fuck���best boyfriend, only fucking me when, hmm, the whole world wants a piece of you.”

“Only you. Always you, ___, love.” You think you catch him licking a drop of saliva from his lips as he stares down at where your bodies connect, sending another wave of arousal from your stretched-out hole.

“You’re so big.”

“Just for you, fuck, squeeze a bit more.”

It’s not that you did it on purpose, but when his hand shoots down to your clit, circling it just right, your body responds as though it’s never felt this good, soaking him even more and gripping him tight as a vice.

“Like that, love, like that.” Jungkook grunts and pants, holding you harder, tighter as his cock seems to swell even more, pumping frantically in sync with your impending second orgasm.

When Jungkook can’t hold back any longer, it’s all you need to let go too, the rush flowing through your veins just as fiercely as the love you feel for this man.

After some time, Jungkook pulls out, helping you straighten up and lean against his chest under the stream. His veiny hands trail down your body, washing away his release dripping out of you, as he plants kisses along the side of your face.

When he’s had enough, he, like always, turns you, brushing the wet strands of hair from your face. And as you do the same to him, captivated by how content and in love he looks, you can’t help but feel like the luckiest girl in the world when, for the first time, Jungkook declares his feelings.

“I love you, till the day I die, ___.”

“I love you too, and beyond.”

Because this, because having Jungkook calling you his, is beyond probability.

a/n 3: lmk what you think in any way you like! 👀 If you liked what you read, pls consider buying me a ☕️ Ko-fi.com/runariya 💕

Like what you read? Check out my other work here!

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[autisticshadowthehedgehog]

OK Guys. I get the skepticism esp after the Knuckles disaster, but we also need to keep in mind "this is a trailer that won't spoil literally everything about the movie." ESPECIALLY in regards to GUN. They're not gonna put in the trailer "the military shot a little girl and that's why Shadow is mad so Sonic is going to never work with them ever." That's a great way to get parents to bring their kids to the theater, especially in America. (/s)

It's WAY more effective as a plot twist halfway through, where Sonic thinks that he's finally being accepted onto Earth via working with the government only to find out that they're exploiting him and Shadow the same. I can't guarantee this is gonna happen obviously but it's like a 90% chance just knowing how, like. writing works.

Esp considering the government has not had a good track record in the last two movies, I dunno if they'd do a heel-face turn into "actually they were always right" in the movie where a little girl needs to get shot by the government.

And I'm not gonna say "trust and form a parasocial relationship with a film director" but we should keep in mind that Jeff Fowler got his start working on Shadow's title game and has stated in interviews that he understands how important Shadow's backstory is to his character. Not to mention how the internet has been exploding the last two years with enthusiasm over this story actually getting shown onscreen, enough that a studio would fucking notice at the very least that this is what the people want. I can't guarantee they'll actually listen, but saying that they're absolutely not because "Sonic was in a GUN helicopter in the trailer" is insane. Especially with the fact that GUN is not with Sonic when he goes to Eggman. We just see Team Sonic alone meeting with Stone, and I will bet you it's because there's no way in hell GUN would let them near him, what with the Robotnik connections to the ARK.

Also the Gerald thing is rather worrying, esp with the lack of shit they gave Pachacamac in the miniseries, but honestly I think that was just a marketing push of "Jim Carrey will be playing TWO characters!!!" Considering he's only seen in one trailer scene AT the ARK (where all of Gerald's technology was and, more importantly, where the Eclipse cannon he needs someone to set off is) AND we know from movie 2's credits scene that there was a fifty-year timeskip, I severely doubt that's the real Gerald who's just completely unaffected by his granddaughter being murdered.

And ofc there's things to be concerned about in the trailer. The lack of Rouge for instance– I obviously keep posting my theory that Krysten Ritter's character will be her undercover but the fact we don't know how much time she'd actually have with Shadow, if at ALL, is worrying. The fact that Rouge might not be here period. The weird pacing of the Knuckles show and the fear that could bleed over into the movie. But there's also stuff to get excited about– the epic fight scene choreography, the brief glimpse we got of Maria and Shadow's bond. Reeves's voice actually fits Shadow and at least from what the trailer showed us it looks like the Green Hills storyline is taking a backseat to the action and mystery of Project Shadow.

tl;dr guys calm down for like five minutes. if the movie sucks in december we can riot then. right now let's just band together against mufasa

[owl-fruit]

‘

[little-diable]

The setting sun - Dean Winchester (smut)

Writing for Dean is like therapy, simply the best. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Dean and the reader meet at a festival, a night that ends with Baby's windows fogged up and their exhausted bodies searching one another's closeness.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (f and m), car smut

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (1.6k words)

Music echoed through the evening, ringing in her ears as she moved her body to it. Her friends were standing close, eyes focused on the open-air stage, singing the lyrics to the songs they had all listened to for the past months. The sun was close to setting, drenching the sky in a pale orange-pink mixture, adding to the calm atmosphere. 

“We’ll grab some more drinks, do you want to wait here for us?” Katy, one of her friends, turned towards (y/n), shooting her a tipsy grin that left them all chuckling. (Y/n) nodded her head as she watched her friends leave, allowing herself to relax for a few moments. She loved being around them and was grateful that they managed to lure her out of her comfort zone every now and then, but nevertheless, she needed some calmer moments to herself. 

(Y/n)’s eyes found their way back towards the stage, she lifted her sunglasses to let the warm breeze stroke her features. For a moment or two, her eyes fluttered close, deeply exhaling to let go of the tension sticking to her whenever she was surrounded by a crowd this big. 

But before (y/n) could even begin to understand what was happening, she felt herself stumbling, pushed from her spot by the broad frame of a man. She needed a second to collect herself, ready to stand up for herself, but as her eyes met his green apologetic ones, (y/n) forgot the words she had prepared to speak. 

“Sorry, sweetheart. Are you okay?” His concerned voice wrapped itself around her, smooth like the whisky she had poured down her throat a while ago, yet stronger than the alcohol still buzzing through her veins. 

“Yeah, it's alright.” The smile she shot him managed to make one grow on his lips. They kept holding eye contact, allowing (y/n) to take in his handsome features. Freckles covered his nose and cheeks, a perfect match to the eyes filled with a colour so rich, (y/n) was sure he had stored the universe’s every secret in them. 

“What’s your name?” She found herself pressed closer to him as a group pushed past them, momentarily looking at them as his hand found her waist, seemingly trying to stabilise her. His hand felt warm against her shirt, managing to burn through the fabric as if he were the rising sun, set on guiding her through her day. 

“(Y/n), yours?" Not once had she felt such a pull deep inside of her, not daring to move away from the man who had undoubtedly spoken some kind of spell to keep her mesmerized by him. His thumb softly stroked the fabric of her shirt, a movement that would have normally managed to rip her out of her trance, not daring to be touched like this by a stranger. But with him it was different, with him it was everything she didn’t know she had craved.

“Dean.” Neither of them managed to break eye contact, no longer able to listen to the music filling the air, no longer able to concentrate on the people surrounding them. “Are you here on your own?”

“No, I came with some friends, they left to get some more drinks.” She finally managed to rip herself out of their intense eye contact, looking around to watch her friends approach with a tall stranger in tow. “There they are.” 

“Seems like they found my brother, Sam.” 

……

“Normally I wouldn’t do this.” Her whispers turned into a moan halfway through, eyes fluttering close as she was pressed against the leather seat of Dean’s car. 

“What? Let a stranger fuck you in the backseat of his car?” Dean’s words were murmured against her naked chest, lips kissing their way down her stomach. (Y/n) could barely remember how they had ended up here, with Dean hovering over her, with the darkness swallowing them wholly. She could only remember how he had lured her away from the group, watching one of her friends get lost in a kiss with Sam, giving Dean and (y/n) the chance to bail on them for a while. 

“Well, yeah.” Both chuckled in unison as her breathy reply left her. Dean’s skilled fingers undid the buttons of her trousers, tapping her waist to wordlessly ask (y/n) to raise her hips. The groan clawing through him left her shuddering, fighting against the need to press her thighs together. 

“Fuck, you’re a sight for sore eyes, sweetheart.” Dean’s raspy voice drew a moan from her parted lips. (Y/n)’s eyes rolled back into her head as his warm breath clashed against her arousal-covered folds, making goosebumps rise on her skin. She arched her back off the leather seat as Dean ate her out, sucking on her pulsing bundle while fucking her with two fingers curled against her sweet spot. 

Dean knew what he was doing, he knew how to touch (y/n) for her to see stars, and yet she was aching for more, needing to feel her lips wrapped around his cock. With another shaky exhale leaving her, she gently pushed Dean away to sit back up. 

“My turn.” She didn’t need to speak another word – with a grin that could make God blush glued to his lips, Dean shifted around to lean against the door, while freeing his cock. Her tongue ran along her lower lip in excitement, studying the handsome man she was about to go down on, finally able to map out his body. 

“Go on.” His hand found her hair as she positioned herself, tongue darting out to lick his precum-covered tip. (Y/n)’s glassy eyes flickered up to meet Dean’s, getting lost in the richest green she had ever been fortunate enough to see. There was something to Dean she couldn’t pinpoint, something that left her confused and intrigued at once. But no matter what it was, she wanted to be close to him, wanted him to feel the same excitement she was held hostage by. 

“Open up, you can take more, can’t you, baby?" Dean’s words rang in (y/n)’s ears as she swallowed more of him, choking around him with tears dripping from her eyes. It was messy, exactly what Dean had been desperate for, needing to feel her eager mouth around his cock, pushing him closer to the edge before he’d fuck her. “Look at you, so eager for my cock. I can’t wait to see your cunt taking my cock.” 

(Y/n) moaned around him at his promises, walls clenching around nothing. His words seemed to urge both of them on, making Dean pull her off his cock to shift her around once again. No words were spoken between them as Dean reached for a condom, staring down at (y/n) with excitement swimming in his pupils. 

“Let me.” (Y/n) took the condom from him to roll it down his length, squeezing him once again before plopping back down on the seat. Dean dipped his head down to kiss her, while aligning himself with her tightness, slowly pushing into her. Moans clawed through them at the new sensation, sounds that wordlessly managed to communicate their longings, the need to be close to one another even though they only met a few hours ago. 

“Dean,” she choked on his name. “Don’t hold back, fuck me, please.”

His raspy chuckles filled the already fogged-up Impala, allowing him to add more speed to his thrusts, set on burying himself deep inside of her. Lust was swimming in both their eyes, a longing so addicting, that both feared they’d lose themselves in it. It was calling for them, luring them into its dark trap that would keep the two connected for longer than planned. 

Hours ago both had begun to realise that tonight wouldn’t end with a simple fuck, this was something more, something keeping them connected for months on end. Perhaps even years.

“Don’t hold back, sweetheart, let me hear you.” His thrusts met that spot again, making black spots appear in her vision while her hand was pressed against the foggy window of Baby, leaving her handprint on the glass. Having Dean buried deep inside of her felt even better than she had imagined, leaving her skin to tingle whenever his lips met hers, making goosebumps arise whenever his hand tightened its grip on her frame. 

Their moans mixed, forming sinful sounds both would dream of for nights on end. Dean’s forehead fell against (y/n)’s as her walls clenched around him once again, telling him that she was close, ready to cum around his cock. With clashing teeth and tangled tongues, (y/n) was pushed over the edge, moaning into his mouth as her orgasm clashed through her. 

(Y/n)’s trembling hand found Dean’s neck, letting her fingernails claw at his skin while Dean searched his high, trembling on top of her as he came moments later. Both were heavily panting, clinging to one another like rafts sailing through the rough ocean without any destination in mind, knowing they could only cling to one another. 

“That was incredible.” (Y/n)’s chuckles left Dean smirking. He pulled out of her before he kissed her again, cupping her cheek with his big hand. They held contact as he stared down at her, pondering over his words before he cleared his throat. 

“Come with Sam and me. I don’t want to let go of you, sweetheart.”

[authorhjk1]

The Roman Goddess (part II)

Sana X Male Reader

The taxi ride to her hotel feels like it's taking hours. Her white top still shows hints of your last moment alone. Since then, the two of you met not a lot of people. Only a couple of oblivious visitors and the taxi driver.

The later was staring at her for a couple of moments as the two of you got in. It wasn't your place to say something, she is married after all. But you can't really blame him.

Even after you just had her kneeling half naked in front of you, you still glance at her every two seconds.

You still feel like you are dreaming. How you managed to pull it off still remains a mystery to you. Or maybe she was looking for someone anyway? And you were just the first guy to hit on her?

Maybe. And even if that's the case, you don't really care. As long as she is taking you to her hotel room, you don't care why she is doing this.

"What's your name by the way?"

The taxi driver's radio is too loud for him to understand what the two of you are saying. Italian words echo through the car.

The young woman raises an eyebrow.

"Now you are curious? After you came on me?"

You feel your cheeks heating up, but you see how the left corner of her mouth moves upwards a little.

"Y-You asked me to."

She tilts her head as if she is trying to recall the scene in the museum.

"You sound like I forced you to do that."

Somehow she did. Or at least her body. Who wouldn't want to cum on her chest? Especially if she says she wants it?

"So?"

You brake the silence after a couple of moments. Although it's anything but quiet in the car. As far as you can tell, the driver is listening to a soccer game.

"I'm not sure if I should tell you."

"I just came on your chest. Shouldn't you trust me by now?"

You see her smirking, intrigued by the way you used her words against her.

"I won't tell you my name. Just in case."

She finally turns her head towards you, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.

"Just call me Venus."

"Venus?"

You can't help but chuckle.

"Didn't we already establish that you are like Aphrodite?"

'Venus' shrugs her shoulders. An elegant gesture coming from her.

"You said that Venus was more important."

You nod quietly.

You feel out of place. You've never been to such a hotel before. Everything looks expensive. The white marble floor, the cedar wooden reception desk, the golden elevator doors with pretty engravings.

The lobby just looks insane to you. But Venus just walks through the big hall, her head raised high, her confident stride makes her heels klick on the floor.

Trailing behind her, you see how well dressed everyone is. It's not like your outfit sucks, a simple white shirt and jeans, but the other guests are wearing suits and dresses.

"Mrs. Minatozaki."

The receptionist greets her, handing her the key for her room. Her name sounds Japanese.

"And this is a package that just arrived. It's for you."

"Thank you."

Venus, or Mrs. Minatozaki, takes the small box and walks towards the elevator. You follow her, trying not to draw too much attention to yourself.

As soon as she throws the package on the bed, she turns around. You tried to see what her room looked like, or rather suite, but her intense gaze makes you focus on her.

"Come here."

She whispers, slinging her arms around your neck. You lean down, meeting her halfway as the two of you start to indulge into each other's lips.

You realize that your hands once again are exploring her body. As if you can't get enough. Her curves feel so good underneath the fabric.

"Fuck, your lips taste so good,-"

You catch her pause.

"I need a name for you too."

Her lips leave yours, before they kiss your cheek, moving towards your neck.

"Any suggestions? It should fit mine."

It's hard to concentrate, when you have a woman like Venus kissing your neck. Impossible even. But you luckily know your way around Roman mythology.

"Mars."

You feel one of her hands slide down your back.

"Mars fits the theme."

"And who is that?"

You don't know if she is pretending or not, but you feel her hand reaching your crotch. Yours are on her waist. Still amazed by how small it is, you try your best to explain.

"The Roman god of war. And agriculture."

You feel her chuckle into your neck.

"That's an interesting combination."

"Well,.. "

You can't stop it. Your history nerd side comes back to life. Despite the fact that Venus is slowly letting her fingers glide over your jeans.

"That combination is a characteristic of early Rome. Military and farming both have their peak during the summer. It makes sense to me."

You feel her bite you skin slightly.

"Are you gonna keep talking? Or do you want to fuck?"

"T-The second one."

"Me too. Mars."

She whispers, before backing away.

It feels weird to be called by a name of a god.

"Give me just a minute."

Venus takes the package and disappears into the bathroom.

Standing alone, you are not quite sure what to do. Take your clothes off? Stand in place? Get on the bed?

Your eyes roam the big room as you realize how much this must cost. Hundreds. Maybe even a thousand a night or something.

Even the bed looks like the best you've ever seen. It's almost three times as big as yours. Golden ornaments are decorating its wooden bed frame.

You decide to get rid off your clothes. A moment later you are lying on the soft mattress, only in your underwear. Then, the door opens. You feel your jaw dropping in amazement.

Venus leans against the white doorframe.

Her black lace bra shows her porcelain like skin underneath. Her tits look a little bigger than before. Her panties match her bra. Black lace. It shows of how small her waist is. Her toned stomach really makes her look like a goddess. The black straps that connect her stockings with her panties each have a golden ring in the middle. The heels she is wearing complete her all black outfit

"I see you like it?"

You look down at your crotch. That's a very clear yes.

Watching her walk over to you almost makes you drool. Her hips sway from left to right, her hair, now lose, follows the same rhythm.

"I don't even remember the last time my pussy was filled."

She crashes down on you, not giving you time to react, when she reaches the bed. Landing on top of you, you feel her center rub against yours. Her hands in your hair. Her lips on yours once again.

The two of you exchange a passionate kiss, her hands slowly going through your hair. Yours are traveling down her back, until they reach their destination. You squeeze her cheeks, making Venus moan into your mouth.

"Naughty boy."

She coos, before she slides down your body. Her tits graze your covered crotch in the process. Once her face is on the right hight, she pulls your boxers off.

"I've already missed this so much."

She sighs, before diving in. Without a word of warning, you feel how Venus swallows your cock. Her warm mouth makes you groan as you sink into the cushions.

Reaching down, you hold her hair back as her head bobs up and down. Her blowjob is messy. Her saliva is starting to get everywhere. Your cock, your balls, your thighs, the mattress.

The only thing you can do is watch. Her eyes lock onto yours, trying to stare into your soul.

"Fuck."

You groan, unable to withstand her attack.

"So delicious."

She murmurs as she let's her tongue dance along your shaft, before taking you back into her mouth.

You can feel how impatient she is. Her blowjob is gaining in pace, her hands moving along your thighs. She starts to fuck her face onto your cock.

With a load groan, you almost cum right there. She pulls away early enough. Your disappointment is quickly replaced by heart pounding excitement.

"Eat me, please."

She gets on her knees, pulling her panties to the side. The mouth watering view almost gives you goosebumps. Her folds are wet, her pussy cleanly shaven.

You pull her hips towards you, making Venus sit on your face. Her pussy tastes even better than it looks. You can't get enough after only one lick. Her hands are in your hair again, forcing you to bury yourself even deeper into her core.

"Yes, baby."

She sighs, her head rolling back. Your pace quickens as you insert a finger into her wet core, while you lick her clit. Her velvet walls clench around you, dying for any friction at all.

"More. More!"

Her moans become louder, her whines needier.

At one point, she starts to ride your face. Your finger is still inside of her, egging her on.

"So close. The museum made me so wet."

You can feel her orgasm slowly approaching. Her pussy clenches around your finger even harder.

"Fuck!"

She almost shouts as she cums on your face.

Her sweet nectar tastes like peaches as you are forced to drink it, her hands keeping you in place.

"That was so good."

She sighs, her body visibly relaxing on top of you.

"I don't even remember the last time..."

She trails off, glancing down at you.

"I need you inside of me, Mars. Fuck me hard."

You tighten the grip on her waist, suddenly sitting up. It makes her fall off you and she lands on her back. You are now kneeling in front of her wet core, your cock grazing her folds.

"Give it to me."

She watches with a satisfied look on her face as you start to penetrate her pussy. Her tightness makes it hard to fit all of your cock inside of her in one go. You have to slowly ease in and out a couple of times, until you finally bottom out.

"Fuck, you are big."

She sighs as she feels how you fill her. Her pussy hugs your cock as tight as it can.

Her hands grab the sheets as you start to fuck Venus. Her body rocks back and forth on the mattress. Your hands are placed on her hips as you enjoy her pussy. It almost feels like she is made for you.

"More!"

Her head sinks into the sheets as you start to fuck her harder. Her legs wrap around you, trapping you, not allowing you to go anywhere but deeper. Not that you mind. If you could only stay inside of her forever...

Your body moves on its own, driven by your carnal desires. Every thrust makes her breasts jiggle slightly, despite the fact that they are still secure inside her bra. Her eyes are staring up at you, tracing the drops of sweat that form on your forehead, before they fall onto your chest or her tummy.

"Gosh, your cock..."

You see how her eyes become smaller, until they finally close. Her mouth is slightly open, moan after moan escaping her pretty lips.

"How are you so tight?"

You can't help but wonder. How is she this perfect? That face of hers would already be enough for every man to fall for her. But her body turns you into a slave to your animalistic instincts. And her pussy.. You can't describe it with words.

It feels like you are in paradise. And at the same time, you feel something like guilt. You shouldn't be doing this. You shouldn't be fucking her. She is a married woman. And yet, that fact somehow turns you on even more.

Venus should be off limits to you. Because she is way out of your league. And because she is married. But here you are. Fucking her, while she whines and mewls, asking you to go faster.

For a moment, you wonder if she is alone in Rome. Or is her husband with her? You haven't thought about this possibility yet. That he and her might have spent the night right here. In this bed. In the bed you are fucking his wife on.

"Fuck!"

Her loud moan brings you back to reality.

"I need it rougher! More!"

It's starting to feel like she just can't get enough.

You start to slow down, wanting to try another position. Maybe you can fuck her even deeper that way.

"Get up and turn around."

Venus seems to like the idea. She gets on all fours her ass facing you.

"Put it back in."

She smiles as she looks over her shoulder.

You let your hands run along her beautifully shaped cheeks. You knead them a couple of times, before you aling yourself with her wet cavern once again.

"Fuck me hard."

It's a mixture of plea and command.

Venus moans when you thrust forward, impaling her with your cock.

"Oh god!"

You lean over her, grabbing both of her arms. Pulling them back, you make her kneel. Only your hands on her arms keep her upright.

Fucking her from behind feels better than missionary. You are able to penetrate her deeper. You are able to rock her body back and forth properly. And you can really pull her onto your cock.

But as you keep pounding into her, her hair starts to fall, swinging from left to right. It hits her face, whenever you pull at her arms and thrust into her. She has to close her mouth, letting out needy whimpers. But she can't hold it in for very long. And soon, she has some of her own hair in her mouth as she moans for more.

The only downside is, you can't see her face. Her gorgeous features must be twisted in pleasure, but you are missing out on seeing them. Her hair starts to have a life on its own as the pace and force of your thursts increase. It starts to cover parts of her face, while most of it is still resting against her back.

You focus on the rhythm of your thrusts as you feel how deep you are inside of her. It feels like her pussy is getting better and better by the second. Your own pleasure increases, the harder you fuck her.

"Fuck!"

Venus suddenly cums around your cock. You missed the fact that she has been dead silent for the last couple of moments. Now, she is letting it all out again. Lewd words spill from her lips, just like her juices spill out of her pussy. She starts to stain the sheets underneath, almost slipping because of her own liquids.

Her orgasm overwhelms you, bringing you closer towards your own edge. You have been holding on for now, but the sight of Venus cuming right in front of you eventually proves too much.

You feel how you are growing tired, her pussy contracting around you with every thrust into it.

"I think I'm gonna cum!"

You groan, trying to warn Venus.

"Paint me! Stain me with your cum!"

She mewls as she feels you picking up the pace one last time. Her hair is still in her face, but she is unable to put it back. Her arms still behind her.

"Fuck."

You sigh as you finally pull out. You let go of her arms, letting Venus fall face first into the mattress. You hold your cock in your hand as you start to climax. Your cum hits her back. Rope after rope starts to stain her skin. Just like she wanted. Some of it gets onto the bra wire, the white globes visible on the black fabric.

"Fuck, I needed that."

You hear her mumble into the sheets, her voice muffled by the white cotton.

You still can't fully grasp what you just did. As soon as she came out of the bathroom it felt like someone else was controlling your body. It felt incredible nonetheless.

As you see Venus lying on her stomach in front of you, your cum on her back, you wonder what else there is to do. There is so much. There is so much the two of you could do. You whish you could explore even more of her body. To feel every inch of her skin.

When Venus finally turns her head to look up at you, you see her smile. Her eyes tell you that she is thinking the same thing.

"How do you want to fuck me next?"

[thesirencult]

PAC: HOW YOU'LL GET 💵 WEALTHY

PILE 1 🤎

The Hermit

My Pile 1 💕 welcome to your reading.

The path to wealth for you starts first and foremost through a much needed spiritual seclusion.

You will realize that money = energy through this path of learning how to listen to your inner voice.

You need to tune out other people, only for now. Others do not understand your ideas and can not help you.

After you come out of this period of self searching you will make a great mentor out of yourself and a guiding light. That means that the transformation you went through blessed you with wisdom to guide others, either to make money, lose weight, awaken, search for spiritual truth etc.

A simple 9 to 5 won't get you there.

Possible career paths, skills and talents you can leverage and ideas : any work that helps people transform, self development/coaching industry, therapist, spiritual worker, book writing, ability to listen to others, empathy

PILE 2 🤎

5 Of Wands

Dear Pile 2 ❤️,

Contrary to Pile 1 your path to wealth includes "climbing the ladder".

You are well equipped to start from the bottom of an organization and reach partner/C-Suite status.

You will probably get a prestigious degree as I can tell you are an overachiever. This reminds me of Suits. You will fight through and compete.

You have great arguing abilities (law?) and have the stamina to get to the top.

Now, apart from the above, the 5 Of Wands can show physicality. This is a sign for me that some of you need to watch your health and not run yourself down from all the work you do.

PILE 3 🤎

Knight Of Cups

You are passionate and romantic. Your soul is artistic and you want to create beauty in this world.

This is a singer and songwriter, a chef that creates beautiful dishes that drive people crazy. An amateur photographer who takes photos of hotels in beautiful destinations like a professional. Someone who wants to build a clothing brand.

You are multitalented and an eternal child. Stick to your arts and crafts and harness your beautiful energy and creator abilities and you'll be unstoppable.

P.S. Take the opportunities that come your way, it's never too early to meet with success, contrary to what others tell you. You'll never be fully prepared or ready. You may be a Projector.

PILE 4 🤎

9 Of Wands

Sweet Pile 4 🧁,

You have so many great ideas and the perfect foundation to make 💰. Your mindset is already more than halfway there and you have great abilities.

You need to work on romanticising struggle. It doesn't have to be as hard as you make it. Don't take the stairs if there is an escalator. You don't have to prove anything to anyone.

If right now things are slow, remember how far you've come. Even if it is not visible in the physical, the past few years you've accumulated a wealth of knowledge and are ready to take the next step.

Trust in yourself and the Universe. Preserve, defend your position and work both hard and smart.

A few months ago I stumbled across a video with a woman who was a business coach. She asked successful people "How did you make it?" and their answer was "I never stopped."

Never. Ever. Stop.

Source : The Siren Cult

[mushiemellows]

These mf’s need a better name than Old Strawhat Polycule but I will present regardless

Franky and Robin need no introduction. She finds him interesting and a good dose of silly guy cures the depression like nothing else. If a man (35, blue hair, pronouns, naked, craftsman, surfer, local union representative) built me a fish tank and a library, I too could simply not resist. He thinks she’s the most gorgeous beautiful stunning intelligent funny wise woman in the entire world because she is.

Robin and Brook, likewise, ooooo the macabre appeal of the hanahone ship. She licks him in the way that archeologists lick rocks and bones to figure out if they are a rock or a bone and she thinks it’s a funny joke every time. He thinks she’s the most gorgeous beautiful stunning intelligent funny wise woman in the entire world because she is. When they go to the beach he buries himself halfway in the sand and she digs him back up and she thinks it’s sooooo funny every time.

Brook and Franky lay stoned on the deck noodling their guitars and they’re like when two rockstars kiss on stage. Brook stands there like an anatomical model when Franky’s gotta crack open the hood and points to stuff. They’ve got the same strand of “lived in isolation on an abandoned ship” disease but Brook’s just for it 9x as bad (50 years to Franky’s 4). Sometimes they make Franky run on Milk to see what it does (you DONT want to see Milk Franky)

Jinbei 👏 and 👏 Franky both love 👏 SUNNY!!!! They get her, and to understand Sunny is to Understand Franky and he stands there and he watches Jinbei drive his car like the master that he is and it makes him Feel Things. They listen to dad rock. They go surfing together. They go snorkeling together. They go fishing together. They go to 2pm Wednesday half priced movies together. They go bowling together. They share a shirt collection.

Robin and Jinbei free political prisoners!!! The thinks he’s handsome, she thinks he’s kind, she thinks he’s Just. She thinks he’s admirable. They organize protests, they attend community meetings, they figure out direct action. She’s kissing fish men and it’s making the papers for the revolutionary act that it is (and the papers can’t even comprehend when Franky Kisses Him). He thinks she’s the most gorgeous beautiful stunning intelligent funny wise woman in the entire world because she IS!

Brook And Jinbei used to Go to Chilis together but then chilis got rid of the 2 for 25 deal (because of inflation) so they’re a little mad about it and are taking direct action against the banks. And trying to find a new restaurant to go to. They’re considering getting into lawn bowling/bocce because bowling nights with everyone are getting too expensive (because inflation is too high! $75 for 4 people to bowl for an hour????? We can have bowling at home!!) but it’s not the same.

And then they all pile up when they sleep too because a cuddle pile ain’t just for the younger crew

[banquetwriter]

୨୧ invisible scars ୨୧

this was the request sent via DM: 1.fluff

2. Johnnie Guilbert

Hey! I love your writing and I was hoping if you could do one about Johnnie Guilbert x reader where the reader has hyperesthesia and they are feeling sad because of how people don't understand her and take her condition seriously and Johnnie comforts her? It would mean a lot to me since I have struggled with hyperesthesia. Thank you for your time! xx @tacuuuu

pairing: Johnnie Guilbert ♡︎ Reader

warnings: ୭̥⋆*｡ Jake being a dick lol, mentions of pain, reader being sad

summary: ʚ Johnnie defends your invisible illness ʚ

Words: 950

An: so sorry I have been sucking lately I'm literally dying lol, also there is very little online for hyperesthesia so I did my very best haha 🖤

SUPPORT ME

Your whole body was riddled with the feeling of pins and needles. It was numb with pain, the occasional burning sensation coming in waves across your body. It was the third and last day of Coachella weekend two, and your body was wrecked.

You had more caffeine and boos than your body could handle. It was about 2:30 and it was time to start getting ready and pregame. Your muscles felt like they were guitar strings that had been played too much.

You took a deep sigh tightening the snuggly soft blanket you had wrapped yourself in. You sat not listening to the conversations around you. “Y/n!!” Tara shrieked looking at you. You reluctantly moved your head up to look at her. She was halfway done with her makeup already and had her hands placed on her hips.

“I'm sorry Tara but I'm probably not going to go tonight. I will just crash into Airbnb,” you mumbled with a sorry expression. “Y/nnnnn!” she whined, turning around to keep getting ready. “I know I know, I’m sorry Tara.” you apologized flopping back on the couch.

Suddenly you heard the door open, you peeked out of your blanket to see Jake and Johnie walking through the door. A small part of you was so relieved to see Johnnie. You knew he would understand like he always does.

He is always there for you, his touch seemingly a remedy for your pain. You sit up and pout watching Johnnie move his way to you. Jake opens the fridge and pulls out a drink. “Hey, sweetheart,” Johnnie mumbles, wrapping his arms around you.

You sink into his touch, feeling your nervous system calm down. “Bad pain day?” he asks as you close your eyes. You take a deep breath milking this moment in. “Yeah, not sure what brought it on,” you mumbled, Johnnie kissed your forehead humming against your skin.

You opened your eyes and smiled at your boyfriend. You took in his outfit. God, he looked so damn fine. “Shit, you're looking like a smoke show,” you remark, eyeing him up and down. He rolls his eyes with a grin.

Jake walks over to the two of you while wiggling his hips back and forth. “You two crazy cats ready to have one hell of a last day?” he asks while taking a sip from his drink. “Oh, I'm not going anymore,” Johnnie says nonchalantly. Both you and Jake snap your heads towards him.

“No way Jose!” Jake says, putting his hand on his chest in shock. “What?” you ask, pulling away from Johnnie’s arms slightly. “You're in pain. You need to be taken care of today. I'm not just gonna leave you.” he said, meeting your eyes.

“Nuh-uh, you're joining us!” Jake yelled out looking at Johnnie. “Johnnie, don't ditch them!” you whisper screamed. “Y/n you're having a bad day I'm gonna be here for you,” he promised.

Your heart swelled with adoration at his words, an equal part of guilt. Your worst fear was coming true. You were dragging others down with your disability. “Dude y/n says it's fine! Just come get drunk.” Jake says encouragingly.

“No dude,” Johnnie says calmly, just shaking his head. You felt a little awkward sitting there now. You had never ever wanted to make other people suffer from what you go through. Your heart clenched with anxiety.

“Jesus Johnnie it's not even that bad. Y/n still does stuff all the time! They went on a run the other day!” Jake moaned dramatically, bending his knees for emphasis. You cringed at his words. While it was true some days you had energy others you certainly did not and this was one of those days.

Before you could defend yourself Johnnie was quick to step up. “Dude that's not how it fucking works. Not everyone's issues are visible, you know that. They are at real risk with their blood pressure being so high. So no I'm not going I'm going to stay and take care of my girlfriend ok?” Johnnie says, his eyes open wide with anger.

Jake had looked like a kicked puppy. He looked over at you with a small sad smile. You had almost forgotten you were there for a second, finding it hard to believe anyone as incredible as Johnnie would defend you like that.

“Hey um, I'm sorry y/n I swear I didn't mean it like that. It's totally ok if you need rest some days, I was being a little bit of an idiot.” Jake sheepishly admits. You open your mouth to speak but no sound comes out. You shoot a quick glance at Johnnie before you look back at Jake.

You take a deep sigh before calming him down. “Don't worry man. If I could change it I would,” you mutter before standing up and making your way to your ‘bedroom’.

You sink into your bed, no longer feeling the comforting touch of Johnnie. And thankfully it wasn't long before he walked into the room. You didn't turn to look at him at all, you just let him walk over to the bed.

You hear shuffling for a minute before the bed dips down with his weight. His arms wrap around your torso pulling you into him. You let your eyes close as his comfort slowly dulls the numbness in your body.

“Thank you,” you mumble against the pillow. “Of course,” he says softly. “You will never be too sick for me. I'm always right here,” he mumbled a second later. Neither of you moved, but you could swear when you were having a better you would tell him how greatful you were.

[wiliowisp]

Sebastian Sallow Headcanons | Pt.2

Part one | Part two | Part three

What Sebastian is like in a romantic relationship:

➻ he has a jealous and possessive streak, for sure, but he's working on it. it comes from a place of trauma and insecurity rather than any malice, and he practices letting his SO be close to people who aren't him.

➻ that doesn't mean it doesn't come out though; especially regarding people like leander, who seem more than happy to be intimately familiar with his lover.

➻ another expression of this is in protectiveness. in any dangerous situation, his priority is the safety of his SO. even if they are more than capable of defending themselves, he would much rather take the hits than have them be in harm's way.

➻ his primary love language is acts of service. he will happily do anything you ask of him and them some. 'i noticed you didn't have breakfast so i bought you some fruit.' 'you need help with your homework? say no more.' 'i picked up a book that can help with that subject you're struggling with.' and more.

➻ that being said, he's clingy. after his parent's death, physical affection was really only for him and anne. now that he has an SO, all he wants is to touch them. in class, his hands are wrapped around them or his leg is pressed up against them. when studying, he'll lean on them or have his head in their lap while reading. if they cuddle him, he'll melt.

➻ he's constantly fighting the urge to kiss his SO. he loves making out, but understands that 24 hours of the day can't be dedicated to it; he also knows himself enough that once he starts, its difficult for him to stop. when they do kiss, it gets passionate—quick. he simply can't get enough of the feeling, like a balloon in his chest, and wants them closer and closer.

➻ he gets devoted, very fast. sebastian isn't a man who does things half-way. within the first few months of courting, he's thinking about marriage. of course, he understands that they're still in school and can't come on too quick, but he's made his mind up before they've even graduated.

➻ he loves sharing good conversation with his SO. topics like deep dives into the origin of magic, or the possibilities of time travel. he's an avid reader so loves dissecting fiction books or poetry; if his SO can meet him halfway and listen to his rambles, he's in love.

➻ dates with sebastian are always very understated. he's not one for big shows of affection and more for practicing love every day. a date can be something as simple as an afternoon walk, or reading a book together. to him, spending time together is the most important aspect, the rest is just ruffles and feathers.

➻ post graduation, proposal is at the forefront of his mind. sebastian is no gentlemen, but concerning marriage he's dedicated to doing it right. he get's anne's approval first—without it, a proposal simply won't happen. then, he gets the approval from his SO's parents or guardians. he wants everything to be perfect, and for once goes above and beyond to make sure his lover knows they're the one.

(i'll probably be doing NSFW headcanons next, so keep an eye out for that hehe)

[screaminglygay]

Burning match

pairings: kate bishop x fem!reader

summary: shutting off your feeling is not the best idea, but talking about them hurts too much.

warnings: swearing, character gets badly hurt, mentions of injuries, men, reader being stubborn, some angst with happy ending:)

word count: 5.5k

an: this one is little longer, but i didnt feel like cutting it in halfway, hehe, hope you´ll like it!:)

part one | part two

!MDNI!

"Come on, try again." Natasha says as she hold the lap for you to hit it.

The past few weeks, you´ve been trying to keep yourself busy. Small missions. Paper work. Training with Natasha. Spending time with MJ and Peter in Queens. Everything to keep Kate away. Everyone realized that something is wrong, that´s the main reason, why Fury didn´t give you a long or a hard missions. He couldn´t risk you being reckless, but he also didn´t want to keep you out of the game.

"I´m trying!" You yell as you hit the boxing paw, but you didn´t cover your face, so Natasha hits you back.

"Your mind is somewhere else. I need you to be here with me." The redhead put her hand back up, for you to try again. "If we would be on the field, you´d be dead by now." She states, hoping it will motivate you, but it did the exact opossite.

"That would be great, actually." You try to hit her paw, but she put her hands down.

"(Y/N)…" Natasha looks at you and takes off the paws.

"What are you doing?" You are supposed to train for another fifty minutes.

"We´re having a break. Sit down." You sit down, taking off your gloves. "Are you gonna talk to me, or just pretend like everything is great?" Natasha sits down as well.

You shrug. "It's complicated, Nat. I don't even know where to start."

"Start at the beginning. I'm here to listen." She looks at you.

"It's about feelings. Complicated feelings," you admit, fidgeting with the edge of your gloves.

"Remember when I used to have a crush on Wanda? Well, it turns out those feelings are just exchanged with a different feelings.. with different someone…"

Natasha nods, her expression encouraging you to continue.

"It´s Kate," you continue, the weight of the unspoken emotions settling between you. "I never expected to feel this way again, but it's there. And I can't face her. I can't face anyone, really."

Natasha's eyes reflect empathy as she absorbs your words. "Feelings are messy, (Y/N), but running from them won't make them disappear. You've got to confront them, understand them, and then decide what to do next."

You look down at your hands, the moment feeling like a barrier between you and the vulnerability of your emotions. "I already decided, I don´t want to confront them at all. It´s just… overwhelming."

Natasha reaches over, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "You don't have to figure it all out at once. Take it one step at a time. Talk to Kate. See where it goes. And remember, I'm here for you, no matter what. And like with Wanda it either will go away or you will figure it out."

You sigh. "It was different with Wanda. In many ways. I don´t think it will be the same. They are both totally different people." You say as you think about that time of your life.

"What was different? Having a bro code with Pietro?" Natasha asks, without missing a beat and that makes you smile and roll your eyes.

The door swings open, your gaze lifts, only to meet the eyes of the archer you've been succesfully avoiding. Instantly, your posture tenses, a reflexive response to the presence.

Kate walks in, but stops as she notices you´re with Natasha, "can I have a minute with (Y/N)?"

Natasha looks at you and you just nod. Which makes Natasha stand up and leave the room.

"So…" Kate starst, but she is actually not really sure how to start at all.

"So…" You look at her and she sits down next to you."You had a sparing session with Natasha?" Kate asks, looking at the gloves on the ground.

"Um- yeah, yeah, I had." You nod as well as Kate.

The room holds an unspoken tension. Kate breaks the silence with a question that cuts through the charged atmosphere.

"Am I too annoying?" Kate's gaze is probing, searching for confirmation in your eyes.

Your response is quick, "What? No! Of course not!"

Kate interrupts, her tone cutting, "You've been off. So what's your problem?"

"I don´t have a problem." You shrug.

"You don´t? Well even Mike thinks you´re kinda off…" Kate states.

A scoff escapes your lips involuntarily, and you mutter mockingly, "oh Mike thinks that.."

The archer looks at you and raise her eyebrow, "what´s that supposed to mean?"

"Forget it, nothing." You look away, already feeling like you gonna explode.

"Say it." You can feel that the atmosphere didn´t clear out at all.

"No, it´s nothing important." You look back at her.

"(Y/N), say it!" Kate is on the verge of exploding too, you can feel it and even see it.

"Okay, fine! Your boyfriend, he´s a dick." Okay, that slipped out. Shit, that shouldn´t have slipped out.

Oh god.

You succesfully shocked the archer, she is completly stunned. "What's your problem with Mike?" Kate's voice rises, defensive and confrontational.

"It's this something about him." you take a deep breath, the tension escalating. "You deserve better." There it is, you finally said it. Maybe a little differently then you wanted, but you did.

The declaration becomes a spark igniting an unexpected blaze. Kate's eyes narrow, a mixture of frustration and anger surfacing. "You don't know him like I do. You don't get to judge my choices. Who do you think you are to say these things?!"

The argument escalates, a collision of conflicting emotions, and before you know it, the room becomes a battleground once again. Before you could find your words, trying to save it, she speaks once again.

"I don't need this. I thought we could talk, but clearly, I was wrong."

And with that, Kate storms out, leaving you alone in the sparring room, the echoes of the confrontation lingering in the air like a haunting melody.

Fuck.

...

After the heated confrontation with Kate, the sparring room feels like a vacuum, the lingering echoes of the argument still resonating in the air. Hours pass, marked by the ticking clock and the persistent sound of rain against the windows. Eventually, you decide to venture back to the living room, a sense of emptiness accompanying each step.

As you enter the living room, you open the fridge in hopes that you will find a fresh icy cold water bottle. Finally you have a little luck in your life and there it is. As you take few sips from it you speak out. "Hey, F.R.I.D.A.Y., have you seen Kate around?" you inquire, your voice betraying a hint of sadness.

F.R.I.D.A.Y. responds with a measured tone, "Miss Bishop is currently on a mission with Mr. Rogers and Miss Belova. They left a forty minutes ago."

A pang of regret tightens your chest. The opportunity to apologize and mend things with Kate slips through your fingers, replaced by a sense of longing and missed chances.

"Alright, thanks, F.R.I.D.A.Y.," you mutter, retreating to a corner of the living room. The rain outside matches the melancholy mood within, creating a backdrop for the emotional storm you find yourself caught in.

...

You find solace in the embrace of your bed, its comfort offering a temporary refuge from the emotional turmoil that swirls within. The room, dimly lit by the glow of the bedside lamp, becomes a sanctuary where you can confront the tangled web of feelings.

Wrapped in the warmth of blankets, you replay the events in your mind, analyzing each word and gesture. Regret sticks with you, and the longing to bridge the gap between you and Kate grows with each passing moment. The desire to apologize, to untangle the knots of misunderstanding, becomes a persistent ache that refuses to dissipate.

But was it a misunderstanding? Or just something you held in yourself for a really long time?

As the rain continues its rhythmic dance against the window, time seems to stretch, each moment weighed down by the emotional heaviness. The glow of the bedside clock ticks away, a constant reminder of the day slipping through your fingers.

Messages from MJ and Peter light up your phone, concerned inquiries that you choose to ignore for now. You will answer them later. Maybe.

The dim glow of the bedside clock casts a faint light in the room as your phone incessantly lights up with notifications. Ignoring it initially, you think it´s MJ or Peter again. However, the persistent buzzing becomes too insistent to ignore, pulling you back to the harsh reality beyond the cocoon of your thoughts.

A new notification pops up, catching your attention. It's from Yelena, and the message sends a shiver down your spine. "Kate got into an accident. We're at the hospital."

The words hang in the air, a chilling realization that transcends the emotional turmoil you've been grappling with. The cocoon of solitude suddenly feels fragile, the threads unraveling in the face of an unforeseen crisis.

Before you can fully process the gravity of the situation, your phone vibrates with an incoming call from Natasha. With a sense of foreboding, you answer, your voice catching in your throat.

"(Y/N), it's about Kate. There's been an accident," Natasha's voice is steady but laced with an underlying tension. "They're at the St.Nicholas. Steve said it's serious. You need to come, but please drive carefuly." Natasha´s voice cracks and that makes your stomach drops even lower.

Without a second thought, you spring into action, a surge of adrenaline propelling you out of the room and into the stormy night. The rain outside mirrors the tempest within as you navigate the path to the hospital, the glow of your phone lighting the way with messages that now hold a newfound urgency.

The rain-drenched streets blur as you rush towards the hospital, heart pounding in your chest. The vivid lights of the emergency room entrance greet you as you finally arrive, breathless and soaked. Your gaze scans the room, finding Natasha, Steve, and Yelena huddled together, their faces etched with worry.

Ignoring the pull of exhaustion, you hurry towards them, relief and anxiety warring within you. Natasha, noticing your arrival, steps forward, her eyes reflecting a mix of concern and understanding.

"(Y/N), she's stable now," Natasha says softly, her hand resting reassuringly on yours as she stops you from coming into the room. "But they won't let us visit her just yet."

A mix of emotions floods over you – relief that Kate is stable, yet a lingering unease at the unknown extent of her injuries. The hospital's sterile ambiance amplifies the tension in the air as Steve steps forward, his usually stoic expression betraying a deep concern.

"There was a room filled with explosive material, and it detonated while she was near it," Steve explains, the weight of the situation evident in his voice. "She's lucky to be alive."

As Steve explains, you feel a knot tighten in your stomach. The image of Kate, caught in the blast, flashes in your mind. The once trivial disagreements now seem insignificant, overshadowed by the reality of Kate's perilous situation.

Yelena remains silent, her eyes revealing the worry she can't put into words. The waiting room becomes a space suspended in time, a limbo between the fear of the unknown and the hope for Kate's recovery.

For now, the only option is to wait – to wait for news, for permission to visit Kate, and, above all, for a sign that she will pull through.

...

Time seems to stretch as the group anxiously awaits news about Kate. The sterile waiting room is filled with hushed conversations and the rhythmic beeping of medical equipment. The air is thick with anticipation until finally, a doctor emerges, breaking the tense silence.

"Miss Bishop is stable. She's going to be okay," the doctor announces, a collective sigh of relief escaping from those gathered. "However, she needs time to recover. The explosion caused many injuries, and she's currently sleeping."

Steve, Yelena, and Natasha exchange grateful glances, and a sense of gratitude washes over them. The doctor continues, "You can visit her. We'll keep you updated on her progress."

As the trio heads toward Kate's room, you hesitate. The relief is palpable, but an overwhelming desire to be close to Kate prevails. Determined, you follow them into the room.

Kate lies peacefully on the hospital bed, surrounded by the sterile white walls. Machines softly hum, monitoring her vital signs. You can hear Yelena talk in russian, which you don´t understand at all.

Natasha places a gentle hand on Yelena´s shoulder, exchanging a few quiet words with her and Steve before leading them out, leaving you alone with your friend.

The room is dimly lit, the soft glow of monitors casting a gentle light on Kate's sleeping form. The exhaustion from the events of the day catches up with you, but an unwavering need to be there for Kate keeps you by her side.

You pull a chair close to the bed, taking Kate's hand in yours. The rhythmic beeping of the machines becomes a soothing backdrop as you sit there, unmoving, lost in the quiet vigil.

"I´m really sorry, Katie." You whisper, so much regret in those words. Hours pass, marked by the steady rise and fall of Kate's chest. Your mind is a tempest of emotions – relief, worry, gratitude. The ordeal has left you physically and emotionally drained. The chair feels uncomfortable, but you can't bring yourself to leave Kate's side.

As the night wears on, fatigue sets in. The hospital room becomes your bedroom now, interrupted only by the soft sounds of medical equipment. Unable to resist the heaviness of your eyelids, you lean against the chair and finally fall asleep too.

...

Morning light filters through the hospital room's window, casting a soft glow on the still figure of Kate. The rhythmic sounds of medical equipment persist, a constant reminder of the fragile balance between recovery and the unknown. You wake up, the stiffness in your muscles a testament to the night spent in the uncomfortable chair.

The door creaks open, and Natasha enters, holding a small tray with a cup of water and a plate of food. Her eyes, though tired, hold a reassuring warmth.

"Hey," Natasha says softly, offering a small smile. "I thought you might need this."

Tears well up in your eyes as you take in the caring gesture. "Thanks, Nat."

Natasha places the tray on the table and pulls a chair closer. "How are you holding up?"

You shrug and glance at Kate, her peaceful slumber giving you a momentary respite. "The last time we talked, we had a fight," you confess, your voice choked with emotion.

Natasha leans forward, a comforting presence. "(Y/N), these things happen, especially in our line of work. What's important now is that she's going to be okay."

"I was too blind to let her be happy," you admit, the weight of regret settling in. "I should have never said anything."

Natasha reaches out, squeezing your hand gently. "You care about her, and that's what matters. The rest can be worked out later." She encourages you to eat and drink, a gentle reminder of the need to take care of yourself. The food feels tasteless, but with Natasha's support, each bite becomes a small triumph.

"Kate is strong, and she's going to pull through. You being here for her matters more than you realize," Natasha reassures, offering a comforting presence in the quiet hospital room.

Her words are stuck in your head. You are here. You are. Where is Mike?

"He's still not here, hasn't even bothered to check in," you mutter to Natasha, a sense of frustration coloring your tone.

Natasha furrows her brow, sensing the underlying tension. "Mike? Maybe he's just dealing with things in his own way."

"So if you had the love of your life in a hospital you wouldn´t care to find them?" You are once again getting angry, even though you are strongly agaisnt the man, maybe you are overreacting. Or maybe you are right the whole time. Thoughts are running in and out of your head. Too much things at the moment.

"(Y/N), people react differently in situations like these. Give him some time."

But the silence from Mike speaks louder than any explanation Natasha could offer. The realization stirs a mix of emotions — frustration, disappointment, and a strange sense of feeling you couldn´t name yet.

Natasha leaves the hospital room, offering a reassuring smile as she heads to the cafeteria to check up on Steve and Yelena. The door closes behind her, leaving you alone with your thoughts and sleeping Kate.

After some time, Natasha returns with Yelena, her expression serious. "Steve's heading back to the compound to take care of some calls and paperwork. He'll be back soon," she informs you.

The hospital room feels both empty and crowded, a paradoxical mix of solitude and shared concern. Yelena, seated by the window, looks up as Natasha speaks. "We´ll stay here with you for a while," Nat offers.

Grateful for the company, you nod, and Natasha takes a seat in the corner, while Yelena sits by Kate's bedside. The atmosphere in the room becomes more subdued, the weight of the events settling in.

After a little bit you step out to get some fresh air, a knot of tension lingers. The hallway outside is quiet, and you take a moment to collect your thoughts. As you turn to the bathrooms, you notice someone standing a little way down the corridor — Mike, Kate's boyfriend.

His presence catches you off guard, and a mixture of emotions surges within. The frustration from the previous thoughts intensifies, and a sense of unease accompanies the realization that he's here, yet the silence persists.

Mike looks up from his phone, noticing you. His expression is a mix of surprise and discomfort. The air between you is thick with unspoken words and unresolved tensions. It's a moment frozen in time, the hospital hallway becoming a silent arena for a confrontation that has been brewing beneath the surface.

Yelena and Natasha remain inside the room, unaware of the encounter in the hallway. The decision of whether to address the situation or let it linger hangs in the air, and as you lock eyes with Mike. You know Kate would not want you to go up to him and start a fight, but you can´t help it.

The air in the hospital hallway thickens as you approach Mike, who seems taken aback by your presence. A mix of frustration and anger simmers beneath the surface, waiting to erupt.

"It took you a while to finally arrive," you say, the words laced with a mixture of scoff and irritation.

Mike doesn't respond with an apology or explanation. Instead, he meets your challenging gaze and, with a dismissive tone, retorts, "Why do you care?"

The confrontation escalates, each word becoming a verbal jab as the tension between you intensifies. Mike, rather than showing concern for Kate or acknowledging the gravity of the situation, responds with rudeness and indifference.

"Why do I care?!" There it is, the sharp exchange of words. "If she was my girlfriend, I would call, text—I would run into every hospital, until I would find her!" you shout, your frustration boiling over. But Mike remains unmoved, his calm demeanor only fueling the fire.

"But she's not," he speaks with an unsettling calmness.

The words hang in the air, a harsh reality that slaps you in the face. "What?" you stammer, caught off guard by the bluntness of his statement.

"You've said it yourself, if. She is not your girlfriend," Mike replies, his words cutting through the emotional turmoil like a knife.

The realization hits hard, the vulnerability beneath your anger exposed. The hurt, disappointment, and frustration converge into a surge of raw emotion.

Natasha, hearing the escalating confrontation, steps in, grabbing your hand to stop you from saying or doing anything impulsive. "You won't help her by this, (Y/N)," she says calmly, her grip a grounding force amid the tempest of emotions.

The hospital hallway becomes a silent witness to the tangled threads of relationships, the fractures laid bare in the harsh light of truth. As Natasha intervenes, you take a deep breath, grappling with the storm of emotions within. The focus shifts from the confrontation to the shared concern for Kate's well-being, a reminder that in the face of adversity, unity is more crucial than discord.

Natasha makes you take a few deep breaths, trying to diffuse the tension. Frustration still simmers within you, and you can't shake off the urge to do something impulsive. Your words to Natasha echo your volatile emotions.

"He's being an arrogant idiot," you mutter to Natasha, your anger palpable. "I swear, if I didn't care about Kate, I'd punch him."

Mike, unfazed, wears an arrogant smile as if reveling in the chaos he has incited. The atmosphere in the hospital corridor remains charged, the unspoken conflict simmering beneath the surface. With a frustrated scoff you finally manage to go to the bathroom, to freshen up a little bit, or at least calm the anger burning inside you.

In the midst of the tension, a weak voice cuts through the air. Kate stirs in her hospital bed, her gaze flickering around the room as she tries to make sense of her surroundings. Her eyes land on Yelena, who is engrossed in a magazine.

"What the hell was that?" Kate asks, her voice a mix of confusion and concern.

"Kate! You´re awake! Oh and that? (Y/N)." Yelena puts the magazine down.

"Is she okay?" Kate asks without a beat.

Yelena hesitates for a moment, choosing her words carefully. "She's… okay."

The ambiguity in Yelena's response doesn't escape Kate's notice. "Whats that supposed to mean?" Kate´s voice still very raspy from just waking up.

"Well curently she´s cursing at your boy for being a dick." The blonde chuckles, as she´s rooting for your win.

"She is?" Kate's eyes widen with a mix of surprise and concern.

"Yeah… I heard Natasha step in, too sad I wanted to see (Y/N) throw some fists, she could take him.." Yelena looks at Kate, "what? I´m just stating the facts."

Kate tries to sit up and leave the bed, but Yelena immedietly notices and tries to keep her in bed. "No, Kate, stay." But that doesn´t stop the injured archer.

Ignoring Yelena's attempts to keep her in bed, Kate go out the room, trying to piece together the events that led her here until her gaze finally lands on Natasha, a silent guardian in the midst of the unfolding drama. Mike´s back is facing Kate as she somehow walked out of her hospital room.

"You all are crazy, who do you think you guys are? Mighty heroes?" He laughs "At least Kate will realize how useless her bow and arrow is…"

"Mike…" Natasha tries as she meets Kate´s blue eyes. Her posture softens a little bit with relief as she notices that Kate is awake.

"If her dad was around maybe she would get some sences knocked into her, this is ridicilous. Pretending to be a hero." Kate barerly stands there, she hopes this is just a big hallucination from the pills they gave her. "And who is your inspiration, hm? A- a- hooker mixed with Lara Croft?"

Natasha steps forward with a slight smile on her face, "If I was you, I would choose your words more wisely."

"What did you just said?" Kate jumps in with a question, her voice cracking up a little bit.

Mike turns around, completly shifting his body language, "oh babe! You are awake!" He rushes to her side but Yelena is quick to walk out of the room and push him away.

"Возьми ее за руки, и я сломаю тебе все кости в твоем чертовом теле." Yelena is really ready to strike.

(translation: Get your fucking hands on her and I´ll break all of your bones in your god damn body.)

"Leave me alone, she is my girlfriend!" The guy states. "Mine, understand?!" He tries to fight off the Widow, but if anything it was more of a sad try on his side.

The dismissive tone and lack of accountability in Mike's words infuriate Kate. Her face contorts with anger as she delivers a stern message. "You need to leave, Mike. I don't want to see you."

"Babe-" Mike's another attempt at a protest is met with a stern gaze from Kate, cutting him off. "Go home, Mike. I need some space."

"It´s because of your freak friend, right? That poor (Y/N)…" He somehow gets Yelena´s hands off of him and adjust his jacket.

Kate's eyes narrow at the mention of your name, and a wave of frustration washes over her. "Go."

Before Mike can respond Natasha is leading him out of the sight, while Yelena helps Kate back to her bed.

Kate nods, a mix of gratitude and relief in her eyes. "Thanks, guys. Now, can someone fill me in on everything that happened?"

As Yelena explains everything from the mission to this moment, Natasha, with her keen sense of observation, follows the emotional trail to find you in the bathroom. The tension and frustration from the earlier confrontation still linger, and she approaches you with a steady but understanding gaze.

"Kate is awake," Natasha announces, her words breaking through the quiet reflection in the bathroom.

The news propels you into action. Without a second thought, you practically sprint back to the hospital room where Kate is, your heart racing with a mix of anxienty and relief.

With Yelena and Natasha giving you some privacy, the atmosphere in the hospital room becomes more intimate. Kate looks at you with a mixture of gratitude and curiosity, and you can sense the unspoken questions lingering in the air.

"You really went to fight for me out there," Kate says, breaking the silence. Her voice is soft, filled with appreciation.

You give her a small smile. "Of course, Kate. He´s such an- anytime."

Kate chuckles at your words, "I appreciate it. More than you know." You find yourself sit next to her side once again. "I just couldn't stand by and let him hurt you. You mean a lot to me."

Kate's expression softens, and she reaches out to take your hand. "You mean a lot to me too. I didn't expect anyone to stand up for me like that."

"Well, get used to it," you say with a playful grin. "I've got your back. And now more than ever, miss walking into a room with explossives." You playfully tease her.

Kate just laughs, even though it hurts her a little bit.

"So, what did you do in the hallway, before Nat stepped in?"

You can't help but chuckle, the tension dissipating. "Oh nothing, just me telling off to your not-so-charming boyfriend."

Kate raises an eyebrow wanting to say something totally different then the thing she left out. "Hm, alright then."

"You should get some rest," you smile as you put the blanket over her. "I´m fine, actually I don´t feel much pain." Kate says as she visible fights off the sleepiness.

"That´s because you´re high, Bishop." You chuckle.

"Hm… interesting, I didn´t though about it." She opens her eyes. "You´re so high."

"Yup. Probably, I mean… this stuff is good. It got the kick." She smiles as she shifts a little bit in her bed and she finally drift off.

...

As the days pass, you continue to be by Kate's side, offering support and companionship during her recovery in the hospital. Your presence becomes a source of comfort, and together, you navigate the challenges of rehabilitation. Feeling like you two are even closer than before, feeling so good around her as she does. You feel complete again.

Not a signle thought about Mike in yours or Kate´s head.

Finally, the day arrives when Kate is well enough to leave the hospital. You assist her in the wheelchair, wheeling her out of the hospital room and through the corridors. As you approach the compound, the familiar faces of the Avengers greet both of you with smiles and cheers. They've organized a "Welcome Back" party for Kate, a celebration of her recovery and return.

With the wheelchair parked in the midst of the festive atmosphere, Kate insists, "I can handle the wheelchair on my own, you know." You respond with a playful grin, "I like to push you around."

The words carry a lighthearted warmth, an acknowledgment of the bond that has grown stronger during these trying times. Kate chuckles, appreciating the sentiment behind your words.

Throughout the party, you continue to take care of Kate, ensuring she's comfortable and included in the festivities. The Avengers express their relief and happiness at seeing Kate back on her feet, and the atmosphere is one of shared joy and camaraderie.

As the night progresses, the two of you find a quiet corner to sit and talk. The glow of the party surrounds you, but in that moment, it's the connection between you and Kate that shines the brightest.

"You've been a real friend through all of this," Kate says, sincerity in her eyes.

"I just wanted to be here for you," you reply, a soft smile on your face. After a little you look back at her. "I had this crazy idea. Do you trust me, Bishop?" you ask, a playful smile on your face.

Kate looks at you with a mix of curiosity and a hint of nervous anticipation. "Do I have a choice?" she replies, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

"Not really," you admit, your eyes dancing with excitement. "Fine, fine. I trust you." Kate nods.

"Okay, then get ready, because we´re going for a ride!" You say as you help her get back on the wheelchair. "It took me a little bit to figure it out, but I watched some youtube tutorials and I think it should work." You ramble to Kate, who still have zero idea what you´re talking about.

"Close your eyes, please,"you instruct, and Kate, now used to your playful antics, complies with a smirk.

As she close her eyes shut, you push the wheelchair, outside. Little cold breeze hitting the both of you. You push her infront of the homemade ramp, you made couple nights ago, thanks to some random guy on YouTube.

"Alright, open your eyes," you announce, stepping back to reveal your creation.

Kate opens her eyes, and her gaze shifts from you to the makeshift ramp. A mixture of surprise and excitement lights up her face. "What's all this? You won´t push me off, right?" she asks, with a giggle.

"I thought we could use a change of scenery," you say with a grin.

"And since our favorite place is the rooftop, I figured, why not bring it to you?" You smile, being really pround of what you´ve build. Deep down still hoping it won´t break as soon as Kate´s wheelchair will go on it.

"You built this?" Kate's eyes widen with appreciation as she takes in the effort you've put into creating a way for her to join you on the rooftop. You just nod at her question.

"This is amazing," Kate says, her voice filled with gratitude. "To the roof and beyond!" If this wouldn´t be Kate, you would find this quote use very cheesy, but since it´s Kate, you had to let out a chuckle.

With careful precision, you guide Kate up the improvised ramp, ensuring her safety as she rides to the rooftop. Once you both reach the top, a breathtaking view of the city awaits, and the sounds of the party below are replaced by the serene hum of the night.

Seated together on the rooftop, surrounded by the city lights, you and Kate share a moment of quiet companionship. The homemade ramp, a symbol of your dedication and the uniqueness of your connection, becomes a testament to the lengths you're willing to go to make each other happy.

As you sit side by side, overlooking the cityscape, Kate breaks the silence with a sincere look in her eyes. "I'm sorry about not listening to you."

You meet her gaze, the connection between you deepening. "I'm sorry about being right about your boy," you say with a playful laugh. Kate chuckles. "Well, I think it's good to burst out the bubble. He's not my boy anymore."

"What?" The shock in your voice is palpable.

"Yeah. I broke up with him, and he replied with a thumbs up and a 'You weren't even worth it.' So…"

"Oh my god, Kate, I'm so sorry-" You instinctively reach for her hand.

"No, you're not," she interrupts with a reassuring smile.

"Not about him, but… you don't deserve that. Who does he think he is? Oh my god, I'll tell him-" Now it's Kate's turn to take your hand. "Okay, Rambo, calm down," Kate teases. "I'm fine, really. And he´s the one not worth it."

"So he wasn´t the chosen one?" You tease.

"Oh that´t a low blow, (Y/L/N)" She roll her eyes, but laugh along with you.

As the night unfolds, the atmosphere between you two is not just warm; it's a comforting embrace that you don´t want ever lose again, even if it means being just friends with the archer.

Thank you for reading!!!

[marzipanandminutiae]

god I need to stop reading the notes on that "you don't owe anybody your downtime post that goes downhill in the notes

I got a bit hyperbolic in the tags but I still feel like my point was valid: you cannot just shoot down good-faith attempts at compromise between conflicting mental illness with "sorry I don't have the energy to do that :) :) :)" and then keep telling the person on the other side that they need to work on their issues. it cannot be all give on one side and all take on the other

for clarity, the original post said "people can't always respond right away and that's okay!" (which I agree with!). but then someone in the notes was like "could you maybe tell me if you don't feel up to talking when I reach out to you?" and OP and a few other people were like "so, no, because if I had the energy to do that, I'd have the energy to conduct a conversation. sorry! anyway work more on your own stuff thanks!"

and this pissed me off because like. people with mental issues that can make us annoying/clingy/insecure about people's love or friendship? we never seem to get grace. we are ALWAYS the ones being told that we need to be better- which we definitely do! I'm not arguing that! -amidst all the posts telling you that you don't owe your friends anything ever and if someone ever gets annoyed or concerned by a lack of a response, that's on them. nobody EVER seems to get told "well, maybe work on being able to say 'hey, not feeling up to it; talk later!'"

and obviously there are degrees of this. getting worried and spam texting after two hours with no reply to a non-time-sensitive message is an issue; getting annoyed when someone ignores you for months is understandable. not texting someone back immediately is fine; not texting them back ever and then expecting them to still be there for you is not. but I feel like both extremes are issues to be worked on, and only one gets negative attention here on Tumblr

seriously you don't want to know where I started with all this. it was Bad. passive-aggressive, "manipulating people without realizing I was doing anything wrong" Bad. I have worked on it and continue to work on it. I used to tie myself in knots when I saw that little green dot and they didn't message back right away, or if they hadn't messaged first in a while. and subsequently take that out on my loved ones, intentionally or not. it wasn't fun for me, it certainly wasn't fun for them, and I've struggled to get out of that place and not go back there

but. I and people with similar abandonment/insecurity issues can't do it all. it's not meeting halfway when only one side is expected to move

and to see a post being like "well some people are just never going to listen to reason and I have to ~let myself accept that~ UwU" when all I said was "we can't be the only ones trying, and it's not fair that we're often expected to be" is just. hnnnng

I need to go aggressively cut plastic bits off gold braid trim

[eunseoksimp]

Same Mistake ; Jung Sungchan

this is a super short throwaway from a story i started writing last month but had no motivation to finish tbh.

Pairings: Ex Boyfriend! Sungchan x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst

Description: trapped in a cycle of love and heartbreak, you and sungchan navigate the complexities of a tumultuous relationship. as emotions flare and unspoken truths linger, both of you struggle to break free from the patterns that keep pulling you apart.

Warnings: none

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

it was late, and the world outside was quiet in that eerie way it always was just past midnight. the city lights still flickered through the thin curtains, casting faint shadows across the room. the hum of distant traffic provided a low soundtrack to the silence that had settled between you and sungchan. the air felt thick with unspoken words, heavy with emotions neither of you had been brave enough to confront until now. 

you sat on opposite ends of the couch, though it felt like miles apart. sungchan was staring down at his hands, fingers loosely threaded together, while you picked at the fraying edge of a cushion, your mind racing as it always did in moments like this. moments of quiet before everything erupted into chaos again.

“why do you keep doing this?”

his voice broke the stillness, low and tired. you flinched, not because you didn’t expect the question but because you didn’t have an answer. not one that would satisfy him, anyway.

"doing what?" you asked, already knowing what he meant, but stalling. maybe if you delayed the inevitable long enough, it would somehow get easier.

"this." he gestured vaguely, frustration threading through his tone. 

"you act like you don’t care, like i mean nothing to you during the day. you’re cold, distant, like you’re not even here, and then at night..." his words trailed off, but you could hear the weight of what he left unsaid.

and then at night, everything changes. 

you bit your lip, trying to find the right words, but they were slippery, like water through your fingers. you hated how true it was, how predictable you had become. how predictable this entire cycle had become. distant during the day, yearning for connection at night. it was like you were two different people, and the worst part was, you weren’t sure which one was the real you anymore.

"sungchan, i..." you began, but your voice faltered, a lump forming in your throat. 

you didn’t know how to explain that you didn’t mean for things to be this way, that you didn’t even know how they had gotten so bad. it wasn’t like you had planned for this. for the distance. for the constant push and pull that left both of you exhausted.

"i don’t get it," he said, his frustration rising, voice cracking. "i’ve tried so hard to understand you, to meet you halfway, but it’s like you’re never really here. you’re always one step ahead, or one step behind, never where i need you to be." 

you winced at the sharpness in his words, knowing deep down he wasn’t wrong. you could feel the tension between you growing, pulling tighter with every passing second. it was only a matter of time before it snapped.

"i never meant for it to be like this," you whispered, your voice barely audible. 

but even as the words left your lips, they felt hollow. you didn’t even know if they were true. 

hadn’t you? hadn’t you known, deep down, that you were incapable of giving him what he needed? hadn’t you always been aware of the fact that no matter how much you wanted this to work, you were always going to sabotage it somehow?

"then why?" sungchan’s voice cracked, the vulnerability bleeding through his frustration. "why do you do it? why do you pull me in, only to push me away again? do you even care? do i even matter to you?"

your heart clenched at the rawness in his tone, the desperation that you had heard so many times before but never really listened to. because to listen would mean acknowledging how deeply you had hurt him. how deeply you were still hurting him. 

"of course you matter," you replied, your voice trembling. "you matter more than anything, sungchan." 

but even as you said it, you knew it wasn’t enough. words were just words, and they had lost their meaning long ago. every time you had said things would change, every time you had promised to try harder, to be better, had only led you both back here. to the same fight, the same frustration, the same heartbreak.

he let out a bitter laugh, leaning back against the couch, rubbing his face with his hands.

 “then why doesn’t it feel like it? why does it feel like i’m never enough for you? like no matter what i do, i’m always chasing after something that doesn’t even exist.”

his words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him. there was so much pain in his eyes, so much exhaustion, and you knew that you were the cause of it. 

but what could you say? how could you explain that it wasn’t him, that it had never been about him? it was you. it was always you. 

you swallowed hard, your throat dry as you searched for something—anything—that might make this easier. 

"it’s not about you, sungchan," you finally said, your voice barely a whisper. "it’s me. i... i don’t know how to do this. i don’t know how to be what you need."

"and what exactly do i need?" he asked, his voice softer now, but still laced with frustration. 

you closed your eyes, willing yourself to stay calm, to keep your emotions in check. 

"someone who can give you all of themself. someone who isn’t afraid to commit, who doesn’t get scared and run away the second things get hard. someone who doesn’t make promises they can’t keep."

sungchan shook his head, running a hand through his hair. 

“you keep saying that like it’s some kind of excuse. like you can’t help it, but that’s the thing. you can. you choose this every time. you choose to stay half in and half out. and i... i can’t do it anymore.”

the finality of his words hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, all you could do was sit there in stunned silence. you had always known this was coming, always known that sooner or later, you would push him too far, but hearing him say it out loud made it feel real in a way it hadn’t before.

"so what are you saying?" you asked, your voice shaky. "are you... are you leaving?"

he sighed deeply, looking away, and for a second, you thought you saw his resolve waver. but then he spoke again, his tone steady, determined. 

"i don’t know. but i can’t keep doing this. i can’t keep waiting for you to decide if you want me or not. i’m tired, and it’s breaking me.”

the words sent a shock of pain through your chest, like a knife twisting in your heart. you had known you were hurting him, but hearing him say it so plainly made it impossible to ignore. 

"i never wanted to hurt you," you said, your voice barely audible. 

"but you did," he replied, his voice soft but firm. "and the worst part is, i don’t even think you realize how much."

you swallowed hard, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. he was right. you hadn’t realized. or maybe you had, but you had convinced yourself that it wasn’t that bad, that it wasn’t irreparable. but now, looking at him, seeing the exhaustion in his eyes, you knew you had been wrong.

"i’m sorry," you whispered, the words feeling hollow, but it was all you had.

he let out a breath, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. 

"i know you are," he said, his voice softer now. "but sorry doesn’t fix it."

you bit your lip, the taste of salt and regret on your tongue. he was right, of course. sorry wasn’t enough. not anymore.

"i don’t know how to fix it," you admitted, your voice trembling. "i don’t even know if i can."

sungchan looked up at you, his eyes searching your face as if he was trying to find something—anything—that might give him a reason to stay. but after a moment, he just shook his head, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"maybe that’s the problem," he said quietly. "maybe you’re not supposed to fix it. maybe we’re not supposed to keep trying to make this work when it’s clearly broken."

the words hit you like a tidal wave, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. this was it. this was the end, and you could feel it slipping through your fingers like sand, no matter how hard you tried to hold on.

"but i don’t want to lose you," you said, your voice breaking. "i don’t want this to be over."

"then why didn’t you fight for it?" he asked, his voice filled with pain and frustration. "why didn’t you fight for us before it got to this point?"

you didn’t have an answer, and the silence that followed was deafening.

he stood up, the movement sudden and jarring, and for a second, you thought he was going to walk out right then and there. but instead, he just stood there, looking down at you with a mixture of sadness and something else—something that looked an awful lot like defeat.

"i love you," he said quietly. "but i can’t keep fighting a battle that’s already lost."

the words shattered something inside of you, and you could feel the tears spilling over, hot and fast down your cheeks. you wanted to beg him to stay, to tell him that you would try harder, be better, do anything to make this work. but the truth was, you didn’t know if you could. 

and deep down, you knew that even if you tried, it wouldn’t be enough. not anymore.

he lingered for a moment, his hand reaching out like he wanted to touch you, to offer some kind of comfort, but then he dropped it to his side, his expression crumpling into something unreadable.

“goodbye,” he whispered, turning away before you could respond, leaving the room and you sitting alone with the wreckage of what was left.

the door clicked softly behind him, but the sound echoed in the stillness of the room, final and absolute.

you sat there for a long time, staring at the spot where he had been, trying to make sense of the emptiness that had settled over you. this wasn’t how it was supposed to end. not like this. but deep down, you had always known it would. you had always known that no matter how much you tried to hold on to the fragments, they were slipping through your fingers, one by one.

and now, it was over.

you didn’t move for what felt like hours, your mind replaying every argument, every promise, every moment of hope and heartbreak that had led you here. you had loved him. you still loved him. but somewhere along the way, you had lost yourself. and in trying to hold on to him, you had let go of the pieces of yourself that had once made you whole.

you thought back to all the times you had promised things would change, that you would be different, better. but no matter how many times you made those promises, the patterns always repeated. the same fights, the same hurt, the same cycle of pushing and pulling until neither of you could breathe.

and now, you were drowning in the consequences.

you moved towards the window, your feet heavy as if each step carried the weight of all the things you never said. the city was still alive out there, vibrant and uncaring, the world going on as if your heart wasn’t breaking into tiny pieces.

 the lights blurred behind your tear-filled eyes, and you wiped them away with the back of your hand, frustrated at yourself for feeling so small. for feeling like a part of you had just walked out of that door.

but the truth was, sungchan hadn’t just left tonight. the two of you had been drifting apart for months now, maybe longer. it had started out so beautifully, with everything seeming to fall into place effortlessly, but somewhere along the way, the cracks had begun to show.

you leaned against the cold glass, memories flooding your mind, uninvited. 

the first time you met, at a party you hadn’t even wanted to go to. you could still see the way he had looked at you from across the room, his eyes bright, curious, like he had seen something in you that no one else had. and maybe that was what had drawn you to him in the first place—the way he made you feel like you were someone special. like you were worth looking at, worth knowing.

it had been exciting, new. you were young, full of hope and potential, and he had been so different from anyone you had ever known. taller than everyone in the room, with a quiet intensity that was disarming. you had felt a spark between you that night, a gravitational pull that made everything else disappear. 

the early days were like that—magnetic. you couldn’t get enough of each other, and you didn’t want to. you stayed up late talking, sharing pieces of yourselves that you hadn’t shown anyone before. you talked about your dreams, your fears, and in those moments, you felt seen in a way that was both thrilling and terrifying.

but as time passed, that intensity, that pull, began to shift. you couldn’t pinpoint when exactly, but slowly, the closeness you once shared became stifling. what had felt like comfort turned into something heavier, something that made you feel suffocated. maybe it was the pressure of trying to live up to who he thought you were, or maybe it was the way you had started to lose yourself in the process of trying to be everything he needed. 

and then there was sungchan—always so sure of what he wanted, always so certain about everything. he wanted you, wanted a future with you, and while that should have been enough, it wasn’t. because you weren’t sure of anything, least of all yourself.

you closed your eyes, feeling the sting of tears again, the memories of your past arguments playing on a loop in your mind. there had been so many nights like this, where things started out calm, quiet, only to end with one of you walking away, leaving the other in the wreckage of all the things unsaid. 

you hated fighting with him, but somehow, every conversation seemed to turn into a battle. no matter how hard you tried to avoid it, you always ended up here, locked in this endless cycle of push and pull, of wanting him close but also needing space, needing to breathe. 

you thought back to earlier tonight, when he had sat across from you, eyes filled with the same frustration you had seen so many times before.

"you don’t even know what you want, do you?" he had said, his voice low but sharp, cutting right to the core of you. it was a question he had asked before, and you hated it, because he was right.

you had tried to respond, to defend yourself, but the words got tangled in your throat. it was like every time you tried to explain how you felt, it came out wrong, twisted into something you didn’t mean. so you stayed silent, letting the tension grow, waiting for it to snap.

"it’s like you’re always one foot out the door," he had continued, his voice breaking, and you could see the exhaustion in his eyes. "i’m tired of wondering where i stand with you. i’m tired of waiting for you to make up your mind."

and you had sat there, frozen, knowing that he deserved better. knowing that he was right, but not knowing how to fix it. not knowing if you even could.

his words echoed in your mind now, the weight of them settling over you like a heavy blanket, suffocating in their truth. you had always been afraid of commitment, of giving too much of yourself to someone and losing who you were in the process. and with sungchan, that fear had become a reality. 

you wanted to love him, wanted to be the person he needed, but you didn’t know how. and every time you tried, every time you made a promise to change, you fell back into the same patterns, repeating the same mistakes over and over again.

"god, why can’t i just be normal?" you muttered to yourself, pressing your forehead against the cool glass. it was an endless loop in your mind. you wanted to love him, but every time you got close, you pulled away. 

you wanted to be better, but every time things got difficult, you found yourself slipping back into the same habits—pushing him away during the day, only to crave his touch at night. it was like some part of you couldn’t handle the intimacy, the vulnerability of being loved, and so you sabotaged it before it could get too close. before he could get too close.

you turned away from the window, the weight of your thoughts dragging you down. your phone was still sitting on the coffee table, silent, mocking you with its stillness. part of you wanted to call him, to apologize, to beg him to come back. but another part of you knew that it wouldn’t change anything. you had done this dance too many times before, and no amount of apologies or promises could fix the brokenness between you.

the sound of your own footsteps seemed too loud in the quiet apartment as you paced back and forth, trying to make sense of the mess in your head. you had wanted this to work, hadn’t you? you had tried. so why couldn’t you just let go of whatever it was that kept pulling you away from him?

and then there was sungchan—always so patient, always so willing to wait for you to figure things out. but even he had his limits. you had seen it in his eyes tonight, the way he had looked at you with a mix of frustration and resignation, like he was finally realizing that no matter how much he tried, you were never going to be the person he needed you to be.

he had always been the strong one, the one who held things together when they started to fall apart. but tonight, for the first time, you saw the cracks in his facade. you saw the weariness in his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged under the weight of it all. and you knew, deep down, that you were the cause of it.

you sat down on the couch, your legs folding under you as you stared at the empty space where he had been. your mind wandered back to the first time you had fought. it had been about something small, something so insignificant you couldn’t even remember the details now. but the way he had looked at you afterward, like he couldn’t believe that this was who you were, had stayed with you.

he had been so confused, so hurt, and you had been unable to explain why you had reacted the way you did. it had been the beginning of the pattern—the pushing and pulling, the way you would shut down whenever things got too real, too close. 

you sighed, leaning your head back against the couch, your eyes staring up at the ceiling. you had never been good at vulnerability. even as a kid, you had learned to keep your feelings tucked away, hidden from the world. your parents had never been the type to show affection, and you had grown up believing that love was something distant, something earned through achievement rather than freely given. 

and so, when sungchan had come into your life, with his open heart and his unwavering belief in love, you hadn’t known what to do with it. it had felt foreign, like a language you didn’t understand, and your instinct had been to run. but he had stayed, even when you pushed him away. he had stayed through every fight, every moment of doubt, believing that you were worth it. 

but now, you could see that belief starting to fade. 

the silence stretched on, the minutes ticking by, and you wondered what he was doing right now. was he as torn up as you were, or was he relieved that he had finally said the words that had been weighing on him for so long? 

you wiped at your eyes again, the tears coming slower now, but the ache in your chest remained. it was a dull, constant pain, one that you knew wouldn’t go away easily. 

"what the hell am i doing?" you whispered to the empty room, your voice barely audible. you had asked yourself that question so many times, but tonight, it felt heavier, more urgent. you had spent so long trying to protect yourself, trying to keep your heart safe from the pain of being fully known, but in the process, you had pushed away the one person who had been willing to love you anyway.

you stood up, your movements slow and deliberate, and walked to the small bookshelf by the door. there, tucked between a stack of books was a small box—a collection of mementos from your relationship. you hesitated for a moment before pulling it out, your fingers tracing the edges of the worn cardboard.

you sat back down on the couch, the box in your lap, and opened it slowly. inside were small tokens of your time together—movie tickets, polaroid pictures, handwritten notes.

you stared at the contents of the box, a flood of memories washing over you, each one a snapshot of the life you had shared with sungchan. the polaroids caught your eye first—moments frozen in time. there was one of him laughing, his eyes scrunched up and his mouth open wide in a way that made you feel warm inside, back when things were still easy between you. you remembered taking that picture, teasing him for being so serious all the time. 

"you’re always in your head," you had said, holding the camera up. "smile for once."

and he had—because you asked him to. because that’s who sungchan was, always giving a little bit more than you deserved.

your thumb brushed over another photo, this one of the two of you together, arms around each other, smiling in front of a beach sunset. your faces were flushed from the summer heat, and his hair was a mess from the wind, but you both looked happy. genuinely happy. 

you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to hold back the tears, but it was useless. they spilled over, and you let them fall this time. the weight of everything—the good memories, the bad ones, the regret—it all hit you at once. there were too many things left unsaid, too many chances you hadn’t taken. all the times you could’ve been honest with him but chose to stay silent instead. 

why was it so hard for you to love him the way he needed? you had asked yourself that question a thousand times, but no answer ever came.

as you sifted through the box, you found a note, folded and tucked away at the bottom. it was one of the first letters sungchan had written to you, back when he used to leave little messages for you to find. you unfolded it, your hands trembling as you read the familiar handwriting.

you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

the words were simple, but the meaning behind them was everything. it wasn’t just a declaration of love—it was a promise. a promise that he had kept, over and over, despite how difficult things had become. he had believed in you, in the two of you, even when you couldn’t believe in yourself.

but now, as you sat here alone, holding onto fragments of what once was, you realized how much you had taken that for granted. sungchan had been everything you had ever wanted—patient, kind, understanding—and yet, it still hadn’t been enough. or maybe *you* hadn’t been enough.

the thought made you sick to your stomach. how had you let it get to this point? how had you let someone like him slip away?

the weight of your regret felt unbearable. you had always told yourself that you didn’t need anyone, that you were fine on your own, but the truth was that you were terrified. terrified of letting someone in, of letting them see all the parts of you that you didn’t even want to look at yourself. and in trying to protect yourself, you had pushed away the only person who had ever truly seen you.

you pressed the note to your chest, closing your eyes as more tears spilled over. you had been selfish, hadn’t you? always running from your own emotions, always pulling away whenever things got too real. and now, it was too late. sungchan had finally reached his breaking point, and you couldn’t blame him for it.

as the minutes passed, you began to replay the countless arguments in your head. the way you’d get defensive, shutting him out whenever he tried to dig deeper, to understand what was really going on inside your head. the way he’d always try to smooth things over afterward, his voice soft as he asked you to just talk to him. 

"tell me what you’re thinking," he’d say, his eyes searching yours. "i don’t want to guess anymore."

but you never did. you never let him in. and now you were paying the price.

suddenly, your phone buzzed on the coffee table, startling you. your heart leaped in your chest for a brief moment—maybe it was sungchan. maybe he was calling to apologize, to tell you that he wasn’t really leaving. maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance.

but when you looked at the screen, your heart sank. it wasn’t him. just a notification, something meaningless. you let out a shaky breath, the hope that had flared up inside you quickly extinguished. 

he wasn’t going to call. this time, he was really gone.

you stood up, feeling restless, pacing the small living room as your mind raced. what were you supposed to do now? you couldn’t undo the past, couldn’t take back the things you had said—or the things you hadn’t said. and the worst part was, you didn’t even know if you deserved another chance. you had hurt him, over and over again, with your indecision, your fear of commitment. 

was it selfish to want him back now? or was it just another one of those moments where you were chasing something you couldn’t have? 

you sank down onto the couch again, your head in your hands. maybe you didn’t deserve him. maybe this was just the universe’s way of telling you that some things weren’t meant to be. 

but even as you tried to accept that, the ache in your chest refused to go away. because the truth was, you loved him. you always had. you just didn’t know how to show it. 

and now, maybe you never would.

the minutes stretched into hours as you sat there, lost in your own thoughts, the weight of your emotions pressing down on you like a physical burden. you thought about all the moments you had shared, the laughter, the late-night talks, the way his hand had felt in yours. you thought about the future you had once imagined with him, the life you could’ve had if things had been different.

and you thought about the mistakes you had made, the things you would give anything to take back. the promises you had broken, not just to him, but to yourself. you had wanted to be better, but somehow, you always ended up falling back into the same patterns, the same destructive habits.

why couldn’t you just be enough?

the thought echoed in your mind, over and over, until it was the only thing you could hear. you had spent so long trying to protect yourself, trying to keep your heart safe.

but in the end, all you had done was build walls that no one, not even sungchan, could break through.

and now, you were alone.

[renshengs]

the state of juwon and kwon hyuk's relationship is so fascinating to me. flesh & blood son vs. son-my-father-wishes-he-had. that strange awkward and sometimes sad tension between them. a lot of it is a difference in backgrounds: juwon doesn't fully understand kwon hyuk's attachment to han kihwan nor kwon hyuk's willingness to serve and kiss up to someone like that, while kwon hyuk finds it difficult to fathom juwon's rebellion/resistance toward his father, who is an extremely powerful sponsor to have and represents to kwon hyuk a path to success, a way out of the implied desperation and poverty of his background.

they both like each other more than they realize and more than they'd want to admit. kwon hyuk has known juwon for a decade without Knowing him. they're both occupying several roles in each other's lives at once, all of them intersecting with each other, and the overlaps make it very awkward. kwon hyuk is juwon's brother figure and his former tutor and the middleman between him and his father and the fabled "kid your parents won't stop comparing you to" and also like, his colleague. a family friend. he's the only person juwon hangs out with, and their idea of "hanging out" is mostly just sitting parallel to each other in the private section of some gorgeous uppity seoul bar while kwon hyuk badgers juwon about friends and dating and, you know, pleasing his father.

kwon hyuk's approach to being a good hyung to juwon is also very funny. he's pretty serious about it. there's very obviously a part of him that wants to knock some sense into this elite rich prettyboy's head so that he doesn't get himself stuck in places kwon hyuk can't dig him back out of, but also this is made ineffective by the fact that his methods often rely on (unintentionally) condescending juwon, such as at the beginning of episode 10. which, like, he wasn't even wrong. juwon was absolutely not equipped to be facing lee dongsik.

the problem with his approach is that he's going by the older-sibling-who-is-better-than-you manual, half-chiding and half-lecturing, because he is not just juwon's hyung but also han kihwan's perfect little helper, the son figure he turns to, especially when his actual son disappoints him, which results in kwon hyuk feeling even more threatened by the need to be flawless and Unlike Juwon. due to their awkward inexplicable positions in each other's lives, juwon is wary of him for so long because he interprets the attention kwon hyuk gives him as an extension of kwon hyuk's supposed lifelong gratitude toward han kihwan. he's dissuaded by kwon hyuk's proximity to han kihwan. their relationship is burdened by the presence of juwon's father crowding out the potential space for closeness between them, which is, among other smaller reasons, the main reason why they can't grow any closer to each other. it quite literally takes the whole show and life-altering discoveries for juwon to finally open up enough that he becomes willing to reach out to kwon hyuk, not because he's 100% certain that kwon hyuk even likes him that much but because he's finally accepted the fact that, fine, he does care about this annoying snooty hyung of his, and cares enough that he doesn't want kwon hyuk to be caught in the crossfire.

and kwon hyuk does meet him halfway when he reaches out! juwon is rewarded by the narrative for letting himself be more honest and vulnerable with kwon hyuk than he's ever dared to be, and this time kwon hyuk considers his words and listens to him instead of treating him like a baby who doesn't know anything. it's sooo important to me that they're able to grow closer once han kihwan is out of the picture. it's so so important to me that juwon has people in his life who are not lee dongsik nor the rest of the manyang squad. i think post-canon both of them catch up sometimes when juwon's in seoul and it's—easier. better. feels realer.

[mountkennedie]

Twists

Anakin x black!reader

*you're from Naboo because I love Naboo*

Summary: As a senator you must look your best, meaning every now and then you need to re-twists your twists but before then, they need to be cleaned.

Warnings: none

A.N. I know it's unrealistic to be completely without help but like this is fanfiction, so work with me here

this has been cooking in my drafts for 2 years :3

______________________________________

You had horribly planned this out. Being a senator, you of all people should be perfectly aware of your schedule. And yet, here you are, you need to redo your hair, and your maidens were on vacation. You knew how much they had deserved it, so you insisted they go. They persisted with the reminders to you about their duties, but you pushed right back. And now you sit on a stool in your bathroom, unraveling each set of hair.

It really wasn't unbearable. You knew what you were doing since you did it in the past. However, with the lack of help from your maidens, it was much more time-consuming. Your arms began to burn due to the consistent labor, but you were only halfway done.

Around an hour later, you heard a knock on your door. The clock on the wall read 1:15pm, and the reminder of meeting Anakin for lunch was recalled to you. You swore at yourself and got up. Luckily, by this time, you had finished taking apart all the small twists and were just preparing to wash.

You stood from your seat and stretched. You attempted to make your hair look a bit more presentable before heading over to the door. You sighed and opened just a crack to see Anakin looking at you expectantly. "Ready for our meal?" He asked you.

"About that, um," he slightly furrowed his brows, "I am not ready." You had kept the door mostly shut except for a sliver. Aside from your hair being visibly dirty, you were not properly dressed either. You had decided to stay in your sleepwear due to its comfort.

"Is that why you hide from me?"

"Yes..?" You trailed off into a question. He had never seen you in this 'state' before. Always pristine and put together.

"Well, that is perfectly fine," he smiled, "take all the time you need to prepare."

"No, Anakin, it's not like that it's more." You tried to think of a good way to respond, but your mind was blank. "Just come in, and I'll show you."

His face was one full of concern as he approached again. Upon you opening the door fully, his eyes scanned over you, looking for any possible problems or injuries. When he ruled out that you were fine, he smiled gently, "I like your hair."

"Thank you, but it's very dirty. That's why I have to delay our lunch. I apologize. It slipped my mind how long this process would take. Usually, my maidens are here to help, but they are on a well-earned vacation."

He listened to your small ramble and nodded in understanding. "So you would like assistance, I'm guessing?"

"You don't have to, if you don't want to. It won't take long, I just have to wash it and then twist it."

"Do you want me to help you wash it?" His voice was soft, no sourness could be heard. And you were listening for it.

"No, I can do that."

He stood there thinking for a moment. He must have gotten an idea due to the smile spreading over his face. "I will be only a few moments."

~

With the time he gave you, you decided to get your hair out of the way. You were walking around your apartment with your hair up in a towel as you got your stuff together. You heard a knock on your door again and let Anakin in. He carried a bag in his hands. It took a moment for you to realize what was inside.

"Take out..?" You looked up at him with a bright smile.

"Your favorite, my love," he matched your expression. You reached up to his face and pulled his lips to yours. You thanked him and then took the bag out of his hand.

You placed it on the counter and opened it. The aroma filled the space, and you thanked him again. You both got situated at the kitchen table, and you took off your towel. "Show me how you want it done, and I will oblige," he told you.

You showed him a tutorial of you doing a few twists. You had him try it out, and to be completely honest... they needed help. But that does not mean he did not eventually get the hang of it. You both worked and ate at a good pace. It still wasn't as fast as getting your hair done by many maidens, but this was still better.

~

"You are a fast learner, Ani," you smiled at your reflection. Your food containers were empty, and you both were thoroughly exhausted. He made eye contact with you in the mirror and then leaned down and pressed to your forehead.

[spoiled-milk]

blush blush characters’ (kelby, volks, eli, ichiban, cashew, and cole personal headcannons (imo‼️‼️)

a/n: doing some of my personal favorites then some lemme know if y’all want more. ik this is probably done already but like i like yapping on company time 🤪 i'm so inactive i am so sorry i am not cooking

content warning: none except for mild swearing and not proof read lmao

word count: ~2.0k words

kelby

would love love LOVE it if his s/o made him laugh or laugh at his jokes (even if they’re all sports related)

since he is an athlete and all i think that he knows how to cook healthier meals, but if you cooked anything for him, he would probably eat it since it's from you as long as it isn’t like covered in grease

he loves being around you, so if you go on morning jogs or evening jogs with it would mean the world to him and he values that a lot (even if he has to carry u halfway through the jog / walk it with you)

i don't think he would be too pushy with his diet on you, respects people and their own diets but would gently push for a healthier diet such as salads and low carb foods

if i were to suggest an ideal date for him is kayaking. it's a great work-out for him and it's a great opportunity to show you all the breathtaking sights that the river y'all kayak has to offer

kelby has weekly basketball games, baseball games, and swim meets, and he understands that it is a lot, but if you attended some of them or go out of your way to support him, his insides get gooey, and he feels like he could run fifteen miles

he lives and craves for physical touch. kelby will take what you can give. hugs? great. holding hands? awesome. linking your arms in his? he's in heaven

ok, to be a lil saucy here i think kelby would think you're super mega hot when you work out. here you are running on a treadmill sweat on your face and chest and he's definitely staring at you and now he's got to go to the shower rooms and get his head out of the gutters

also think of this guy’s stamina c'mon you can’t tell me that this guy would only go one wahoo round with you yk (source: me don’t ask)

eli

if you and them are even remotely the same size clothing wise, they are going to take your clothes. no asking or nothing eli will just rummage through your closet and make a fit with a few of your borrowed clothes

one time they stretched out one of your baby tees and you were so bummed out when you found it after they wore it and now eli swears to never take another one of those shirts again

would probably date someone who can put a really good outfit so that they can steal it

would also love if someone would watch anime with them please just give ouran high school host club a chance pls pls pls pls

they probably enjoy watching shoujo or slice of life but if you wanted to watch something else, they probably would watch it with you bc they like you lots

if you watch something that you started with them and watch ahead of them? they’re heartbroken. devastated. defeated. the first and the only time you did that they were inconsolable

would take you clubbing if you were up to it but if clubs aren’t your scene, they totally respect that and won’t push you out of your comfort zone

they will also take really really REALLY good care of you if you get wasted around them and they are really good at keeping you safe

very very personal BUT ELI FUCKS WITH VOCALOID‼️‼️‼️NO ITS NOT A PHASE

if you listen to vocaloid and reveal that to him he will spam you with new songs that drop by the vocaloid producers that he likes

i am a firm believer that eli fucks so hard with giga p you can’t convince me other wise sorry i make the rules

if u don’t know what vocaloid they will make you listen to a couple of songs that he thinks pass off as normal but again if you fw vocaloid then he can start showing you some niche vocaloid songs

volks

such an acts of service man. if you played his lil date thing you would know (i need to go back n double check this by playing it again)

gives off his moody dark grumpy energy but fuck it I’ll be in the minority that believes he likes being small spoon please give him head kisses he enjoys them even though he will not tell you

i think that volks in the beginning of your relationship is uncomfortable with pda but as your relationship continues, he’s gotten used to holding your hand or giving you quick pecks in public

at home though? his hands are on you always. a hand on your leg, your legs on top of his legs, his arms wrapped around your waist. he always has one of his hands on you

if you go on hikes for either leisure or to exercise, he will join you as much as possible every single time

HAS 👏A 👏 REALLY 👏 GOOD 👏 SKIN ROUTINE. he’s a model photoshop can only do so much yk. expect to do skincare together and face masks at the end of the week

has a very early bedtime (like probably 11pm or like midnight at the latest) so when he’s getting ready for bed so are you by force

if you wake up later than him whenever he has an early photoshoot, he will always prepare you a portion of whatever he made for himself

he wants you to meet his mom once it’s confirmed that y’all are serious. you two are the two most important people in his life (and he doesn’t have a lot of people in his life who matter the way that y’all do) and he wants to make sure that his mom gives you a seal of approval (as long as you make volks happy, you win her approval dw)

he knows he’s not the most romantic person out there but makes sure that you’re taken care of. that’s how he shows that he cares. he hopes that the way that he makes your bed, organizes your work desk, and applies moisturizer to your hands after you’ve long fallen asleep is able to convey the feelings of love and adoration, he has just for you

ichiban

tries to keep your relationship a secret from his fans and it works in his video formats because duh you can edit those but when he’s live streaming? he’s cooked. tf you mean he can’t just talk about how cute you are when you nap or gush about the way that you cutely hog the blankets when y’all nap together?

he was scared that his fans would not be too happy at the idea that he was in a relationship, but most of his fans were not like that at all. most of his fans are the sweetest people

some of them even tag you in some edits of ichiban and not gonna lie you watch some of them because DAYUM your man is fine

ok, some of his fans immediately become your fans when they see you on for the first time on his stream and that ichiban was not prepared for but he also was not prepared for the edits of YOU that go around his community

his chat makes it well known that if he fucks it up with you they’re all gonna come n snatch you up because you’re such a treat

is not very good with words or actions he’s kinda like a cute boyfailure but you can’t fault him too much he’s just so stinkin cute at being clueless

does this say anywhere in his voice lines or in his phone fling? no, but i do not care. um anyways, i think ichiban has a thing for building personal computers

like everything in his PC is customized. from the computer case, the motherboard, graphics card, everything. he has so much fun building them to the point where he has like 5 fully built computers off somewhere in his house because he didn't know what to do with them. to ichiban, they're like adult legos, but if legos costed even more money

if you wanted him to build you one, he totally would. probably wouldn't even charge you because he loves building them and customizing them for you (and because he's probably loaded from being a popular streamer and whatnot). ichiban would be absolutely elated if you wanted to build a PC with you if you offered. he loves doing things with you

cole

clingy clingy man touchy touchy man

this might be a little controversial but i don't think that he would like kill anybody. injure somebody? most definitely probably. (i'm probably in the minority here but i'll die on this hill)

BUT he’s very very possessive of you. does not like it when other boys pay attention to you. he wants to be the only one to see the crinkle in your eyes when you smile, or the way the sunlight hits your eyes when you’re reading in the afternoon, or see how ethereal you are when you sleep on the couch in the evening with a movie on that highlights your face just right

has articles of your clothing. has stolen a used shirt from your house just so he can use it as a pillowcase and snuggle with it at night

he will show up at your place whenever he has free time. after work, before work, he will sleepover at your place quite frequently too if you let him. your landlord is convinced that he’s your boyfriend with how frequently he comes over

loves doing mundane chores with you. washing dishes, putting away laundry, going grocery shopping, you name it and if he can help you he will. it feels like you two are a real married couple. soulmates. it squeezes his heart just right when people see you two getting ingredients for dinner and mistake you for a couple

if you have work functions where you need to bring a plus one you better call him first, he would pounce at the opportunity to be yours, even if it’s just for one evening

he’s very good with his words. he’s so cold to others but with you he’s so sweet. he can just tell if something is off with you. he somehow just knows if you had a bad day. he’ll be there with take out, movies, whatever you need (red flag honestly, but i like wearing rose colored glasses)

if you let him embrace you pre relationship, now he expects some sugar anytime he sees you. a hug when he first sees you, a hug for when you have to leave, a hug when he “accidentally” runs into you in public, etc.

cashew

he’s inexperienced, but he’s a quick learner. you’re probably his first relationship and he would never tell you, but he’s insecure about it

loves reading to you. it’s just so intimate with the two of you pressed together under the sheets. he gets butterflies just thinking about it

tell him you love his voice. that you like hearing him. he is a little aware that some people think his voice is hot but coming from you? he’ll hold it to heart. maybe he should consider recording for audiobooks

makes a reading list for you, out of love of course. he asks you what genres you like, book length, etc. even if you don’t read, should you ever ask for his recommendations he will be ready for you

go to the library with him and read pls. it doesn’t have to be date just go with him. he goes by himself all the time please go with him. you don’t even have to read books with words you can pull up the graphic novels he won’t mind promise

i imagine cashew fucks so hard with dates where it’s just the two of you (like a picnic or a walk in the park) he has so many ideas because of all the romance books he reads, but he’s scared he’s gonna botch the execution of it

treat him nicely please, again you’re his first serious relationship so don’t break his heart too bad