#Response to Your Rebuttal

[rosellerivers19]

@umbrulla The importance of noncanon shipping

I ship Ram and Bheem but the thing is I ship it as a headcanon because it is a headcanon it isn't meant to be canon kind of like Gaara and Naruto people ship them because they see ways they could've ended up together but in the end it wasn't canon.

You can disregard the canon ending from your mind and sit in your fantasies if you want thats fine I'm a sasunaru shipper I know that but the only problem I have with you @umbrulla is that you actively stated misinformation you in the beginning of my reply chain with you stated that Sita isn't Ram's fiancee which is untrue she is his fiancee/lover

Second this post you state that Rajamouli said in an interview that there's a romance/bromance between Ram and Bheem only but thats untrue again Sita is Ram's canonical lover and in an article Rajamouli states that his intrepretation of the work was that Ram and Bheem were meant to be a male FRIENDSHIP. The LGBTQ interpretations are okay I have no qualm with that but thats all they are representations Rajamouli never stated them to be a romance between only Ram and Bheem he gave those two love interests in the movie Sita and Jenny.

Since you can't see the article I will show you

Also to support the fact Rajamouli interpretted them as a male friendship Ram and Bheem in Rajamouli's head were a brotherly bond both Bheem and Ram often call eachother bhaiya or brother in the movie and there's a scene referencing Bheem to Ram's brother before he died when both his brother and Bheem eat with their left hand.

Another piece of mis information both Ram and Bheem are Heroes of the stories its not uncommon for their to be double heroes in telugu cinema RRR is a portrayal of that. People have headcanons and ship Ram and Bheem that is true but Bheem never marries Ram actually no one gets married in RRR and the closest thing is sita being Ram's lover/ fiancee that is why she is sent a letter to collect Ram's body when he is sent to be killed because she is his closest family member and fiancee this was set when they were young.

Also Bheem states Ram to be Sita's fiancee

Further more Ram confirms to Bheem that Sita is his lover/fiancee in this scene

Einthusan didn't translate it exactly but the word can also be interpretted as lover/fiancee.

*Ram nods*

Another thing Seetha and Rama are one of the most popular love stories and reincarnation stories of Lord Vishnu this Rajamouli's way of stating they are true lovers.

Ram marrying Bheem is your interpretation but can also be incorrect. In Hinduism people to get married by tying the nuptial thread around one's neck however in this case Bheem is a reference to Hanuman a sacred servant of Rama from mythology his job is to protect rama and reunite him and Sita this reference is made very openly clear in RRR. Ayyapan is a interpretation that isn't as clearly stated can be used for headcanon shipping material though. Bheem gave Ram the necklace to save him.

I don't have a problem with shipping Ram and Bheem the only thing I have a problem with is you repeatedly stating misinformation to prove that I'm wrong now this might just be that you weren't able to get a clear understanding of parts of the movie because of the language barrier or you don't remember them but I also am allowed to defend myself I hope you read this post and get a better understanding of what I was trying to say, I'm wrong in parts as well during the previous argument I accept that.

Edit: One thing I'd like to add to my response I think Rajamouli made the movie seem straight on the front because he was scared of rejection thats why he added the whole Sita being Ram's fiancee and Jenny kind of being Bheem's love interest. This is because Telugu cinema doesn't openly accept LGBTQ cinema however with the overwhelming support from Westerners about this Cinema being about Gay lovers RRR could be a turning point in Telugu cinema. Rajamouli making Ram and Bheem seem Hetero was for his OWN Protection so his cinema wouldn't flop. that doesn't mean you can't make headcanons.

[blonde-and-cat-suc]

saw a post about spop where the person said that “spop haters became the catra they swore to destroy”

… i’m sorry? so i guess disliking or criticizing a show is the same as being a war criminal and an abuser. good to know that the internet brainrot is not going away anytime soon.

Hmmm,

This is... going to be a different kind of response to this kind of ask. Um. To be honest with you? After all this time of running this anti C//A blog. Well. I just don't care about the stans anymore.

I will admit that I did at some points of this hobby/journey (not to be dramatic or anything, you know what I mean). I was young. I still am young. Have I ever told you guys I'm 20 years old? I've figured out I'm asexual (greyace). I've lost a lot of friends. I made a lot more. I used to be vegetarian until I started eating fish again, and then I started to eat chicken. I don't miss red meats. I got my wisdom tooth removed in March.

I have a life. I don't care what the stans are saying about us anymore. I care about you guys and making sure we all get through what we're getting through, talking, creating, sharing art and ideas. I care that when a new SPOP fan (or an older one) figures out that there's a community of people who treat C//A the way that we do, they feel welcomed here. I care that someone discovers things about themselves (sometimes their relationship, sometimes romantically and sometimes with friends, sometimes it was something they dealt with years ago and are only now processing). I care that I'm here to talk with everyone and everyone is here to talk to me. I care about my writing (even though it takes LONG hahahah). I care about being here to represent.

I don't care about what the stans are saying. I'm completely unbothered. And I think you deserve to be, too, Anon. Peaceful and unbothered. You know you're not a "Catra", you don't need me to affirm this to you. None of us are.

. . .

So. With all the love. And this is a Public Service Announcement for everyone who has read this far... These types of rants concerning the standom. Well. This is the kind of response I'll give, nine times out of ten. I’m not saying don’t send them. Do whatever feels right.

/ / /

P.S.

If we DID become "the Catra's we swore to destroy", we still wouldn't be half as begrudging as Catra herself, I'd bet LMAOOO

[arodrwho]

that pathologizing/humanizing post and all the discourse surrounding it is driving me batty if i never see it again it'll be too soon. post block time

[un-pearable]

i get normal amounts of heated about badly written multiple choice questions

[catwouthats]

New rule: you all have to correct me when I make a viral post and it has a glaringly obvious spelling error…

I feel very ashamed that I said despite instead of desperate on that post and no one told me :(

[mysicklove]

Summary: four-year-old Yuuji didnt mean to bring up Mr. Gojos crush on you, which of course, leads to Sukuna's harsh teasing.

cw: fem! reader (reader gets referred to as girl, pretty, and mommy), curse words, suggestive language, lion king spoilers (lol)

wc: 1.8k

a/n: i love making sukuna an absolute menace. poor yuuji tho. i think i am going to introduce gojo as a character, because I think it would be entertaining to piss Sukuna off lol.

big brother au masterlist

“Su-kuna!”

“The fuck did you just call me?”

“Language,” You scold, not peering up from your book. Yuuji lays sprawled out on top of the both of you – his head in your lap, and practically purring in content when you gently pet the top of his head, while his little legs are on Sukuna’s thighs. 

Yuuji giggles into your shirt, shaking his head mischeviously. “Bad word Su-kuna!”

In an instant, you feel the toddler being ripped away from your lap with a tiny screech. The noise startles you, and you perk up from your book to look to where the boy has gone to. But, you aren't surprised to see him dangling in the air by his ankle – Sukuna’s long fingers skillfully hold onto Yuujis chubby little leg tight enough to not drop him, but gently enough to not cause physical harm. 

The boy doesn't seem to mind this position, being in it so frequently. Giggles and squeals leave the toddler's mouth as he stares at his now upside down brother. “You learning how to speak correctly?”

Yuuji nods his head, and his hands try to reach for Sukunas shirt. You rest your head on the man's shoulder, chuckling at the boy who was squirming in the air. “Uh-huh! F-Fush-i-guro taught me!” The dark haired toddlers last name was hard to pronounce, and it was amusing watching how Yuuji sounded it out.

Sukuna makes a loud groaning noise and you cover your mouth to hold back another laugh. “Of course you made friends with Gojo’s new brat. First he hits on my girl, and now his new kid is gonna manipulate this idiot.” He shakes Yuuji in the air to demonstrate his point, ignoring the squeals. 

You roll your eyes with a laugh. “Just because Megumi taught Yuuji how to say your name correctly, doesn't mean the kid is manipulating him. Y’know Yuuji struggles with words sometimes.” You watch as the child in turn shakes his head in defiance, letting out a “Nu-uh!” that only makes you smile. You turn back over to your lover, kissing his cheek. “Aw, does it make you sad that our little Yuuji is growing up?”

“No,” he quickly rebuttals, “Brat isnt growing up fast enough. I am mad that you're not denying the fact that the white haired idiot is flirting with you.” You know that wasn't the full truth, but alas, Sukuna was extremely stubborn and would never admit that he didn't want his brother to grow up. 

“Fush-i-guro says Mr. Gojo thinks you are pretty!” Yuuji announces, beaming at you from the air. You hold back a wince, smiling awkwardly back at the innocent words of the toddler. You watch as the boys cheeks begin to flush from all the blood rushing to his head, and immediately as if sensing it, Sukuna flips over the boy and instead places him on his lap, holding onto the back of his neck.

The action makes you smile, noticing the thumb that rubs gently at the pale skin. But when you glance at Sukuna, you notice quickly that he was anything but happy. Sukunas dark eyes twitches, flickering to you, and he speaks between his teeth. “Did he now? I may need to have a talk with Mr. Gojo next time I pick the little pest up. Does Fushiguro say anything else?”  

“Sukuna,” you whine, realising that the hold on the boys neck was not out of affection – instead was used to trap the boy while he was questioned. “Y’know Gojo is alot. He just wants to–”

“Fush-i-guro says Mr. Gojo has a crush on Y/N!”

“Yuuji!” 

“B-But, Y/N has a crush on brother,” the boy concludes, furrowing his eyebrows with a small nod. “Right, Ku–um–Su-kuna?” He turns up to his brother, doe eyed with his head slightly cocked to the side in question. 

In response, Sukuna ruffles his hair, nearly sending the boy landing on his back. But, instead he giggles at the rough treatment, shutting his eyes and trying his best to stay upward. “The biggest crush. You make sure to tell the little brat that. Or else Mr. Gojo is going to try take her away.”

Your eyes widen and you push at his broad shoulders. “Sukuna! You're going to get him all worked up!” You exclaim, knowing the very sensitive (regarding you or Sukuna) child very well by now. You turn to the boy, whose own eyes widen as he trying to process the words. “Gojo is not trying to take me away.”

“He is going to take her away if you don't do anything, and little Megumi is going to have a new mommy.” Sukuna was grinning at the boy, as if his brother's fearful expression pleased him. You knew that he was being purposely dramatic – Gojo wasn't even technically Megumi's father, if there was a chance that you guys would ever get together (near zero) you would definitely not be the boy's new mom. But alas, Sukuna continues on with his words. “Thats why whenever you see the two of them talking you have to make sure you to scream as loud as possible.”

You cover the mans mouth before you he can spewl any more nonsense, but it was too late. Yuuji was already tearing himself from the man's lap and into yours – his lips begin to wobble and his eyes flood with tears. “Is-um-is that what you two talk about when I am with Mr. Nanami,” he warbles, thinking back to the multitude of times he has held onto his preschool teachers hand and watched you smile at the white haired man. 

“No, love,” you reassure, turning your attention instead from scolding your lover to consoling the child. “Sukuna is being mean again. Don't listen to him. Mr. Gojo and I are friends.” You ignore the look that Sukuna shoots you, showing how displeased he is at the idea of you being friends with his least favorite person. 

The boy sniffles, wiping his little fists on his face. “I-I dont want you to be Fush-i-guro’s mommy. You have to stay with me and Kuna! P-Please?” He doesn't even attempt to say his brother's name correctly, forgetting how he started the conversation all together. He was focused on trying not to cry, because his brother was sure to tease him, but it wasn't working out very well.

You kiss at his chubby cheeks, shaking your head with an exasperated look on your face, wondering how the hell you got to this conversation. “I am not, promise. I'm not going anywhere. Even if your brother is the worst, brattiest, malicious person alive, I have kinda grown attached to him. Besides, if I left who would I have movie nights with?”

“I am not a–” You shoot Sukuna a nasty glare, and he in return lets out an astonished laugh, but shrugs without care.

Your words make Yuuji perk up from your lap, and his eyes widen with glee. “You like movie nights too?” He was always begging for the three of you to watch movies together, but Sukuna always denies him considering it would end up being a cheesy Disney movie that Yuuji would fall asleep not even twenty minutes into.

“I love movie nights. Do you want to have one tonight?”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Sukuna butts in, and you spare him a glance. “Babe, we have plans tonight, remember?” He tilts his head to the side suggestively and you roll your eyes at him.

“Not anymore. Me and Yuuji are going to watch…”

“Human Earthworm 2!” The boy interjects, completely forgetting about his previous experiences with the movie, not good ones.

You poke at his cheeks, shaking your head. “I was thinking The Lion King.” 

“Yes!”

“No,” Sukuna groans, covering his eyes with his palm.

You look at him with furrowed eyebrows. “No? Why are you putting your input in? You're not watching it with us.”

Sukuna, never have been told this before, looks appalled. “The fuck you mean?”

“Bad word!” Yuuji points to him in accusation, but Sukuna just ignores him.

You cock your head to the side, a sly grin pulling at your face. “You're not invited.”

“Why not?”

The two of you make eye contact for a long second, and after a moment or two, Sukuna sighs. “You're really mad about that?” You don't say anything, just continuing to stare at him. “Okay fuck–Yes that is a curse word, astute observation you brat. I am sorry for making the kid cry again.”

“And?”

Sukuna narrows his eyes at you, but you hold your ground. Then, he turns to the boy with a sigh. “Dont scream when you see Gojo and Y/N talk, alright?” He jabs his finger into the boys chest and Yuuji nods his head rapidly in understanding. But, a foxish grin pulls at the mans face and he says, “Instead…The moment you hear him talk to her, you bite his leg.”

He barks a laugh at the confused face of his brother, but when he looks up to you, the smile falters. “Okay, c’mon it was a jo–”

You point your finger to the door. “Couch.”

“You can't kick me out of my own room!”

You don't move your finger. Yuuji glances at you, cocks his head to the side, and then mimicks your action. “Couch!”

The three of you go silent for a long minute, and at this point the boy's hand begins to tremble from holding his hand out for too long. Eventually when Sukuna realizes that there was no point of reasoning, he lets out a dramatic sigh, before crawling out of bed. 

When he notices your smug smile, he flips you off and you can't help but laugh at that. “I am coming back after the movie is done, ya hear?”

“If Yuuji does not fall asleep,” You tease in return, knowing the boy well, and Sukuna rolls his eyes. 

His eyes flicker to the boy who was snuggling up to your chest, trying to find a comfortable position to watch the movie in. Sukuna chuckles to himself, opening up the door, before turning back to the kid one last time. “Hey brat,” he calls.

“Hm?” 

“The father lion–Mufasa. He is my favorite character, so you'll bound to like him a lot. In fact, I sure do wonder if you'll get attached,” he muses, and your eyes widen when you realize what he is saying. Anything that is linked with Sukuna, Yuuji immediately falls in love with. This was bound to cause hysteria. “Enjoy the movie guys! Y/N have fun!” He calls, before shutting the door.

You pause for a moment, sighing into your hand. “Kuna likes the father lion? I want to see!”

You tried everything to avoid turning on the movie after that. But Yuuji, like his brother, was stubborn, and he desperately wanted to see the lion. He grew attached very quickly in that short period of time.

Deep laughs rumble through the house when Yuuji begins to sob over the animated lion's death. You lock the door, and Sukuna stays the night on the couch. 

[enyasaints]

I finally received my employers position statement…

Normally they only have a month maybe two to provide a position statement. It has been six months LATER. I haven’t had the heart to read it. I know it will be filled with gaslighting and lies and it will reopen old wounds I’ve spent months trying to medicate. I hate reliving my repeated sexual assault and how powerless I felt against it. Knowing that poverty and homelessness would be on the horizon if I said anything. When I finally tried to speak up I was dismissed and ignored and ultimately terminated in such a humiliating way. Only to be thrusted into this type of job economy where it is difficult to find work. I have been struggling financially ever since I don’t deserve that. I never deserved any of it

Direct Aid:

PP: enyasaints@gmail.com

For those that don’t know. A position statement is a company response basically refuting all charges they recieved through the EEOC. You have to provide a rebuttal proving that the company was lying. It is incredibly traumatic having to prove wrong doing. Having to relive the awful things that happened to you. While trying to raise money for a lawyer to defend you.

I have taken time off crowdfunding because I’m easily discouraged and I was barely gaining traction. No matter what I do I have no reach, and I have tried EVERYTHING. I truly have. I tried livestreaming on three different platforms, I tried making TikToks, I tried tweeting, I tried begging rich people on twitter, nothing works. I cannot stress enough I cannot do this alone. I don’t have a social media prescence nor social media capital. I am trying to have one but it’s incredibly difficult to build quickly. I cannot raise this money if I don’t have people advocating for me. Even if you can’t donate. Posting my link in a company email, on your facebook, tiktok, reddit anywhere makes a world of a difference. Using your skills to promote my GFM. If you draw or make edits that also can help. Anything can help me. Scrolling past just kills me. So please. PLEASE. Do something. Even if its just interacting on this very post. Commenting, sharing, liking. PLEASE. If I don’t raise emough for a lawyer, when I get the letter of right to sue, it gives me 90 days to find a lawyer. If I don’t my case gets thrown out and I never get justice. I can never sue them again.

Deadline for Lawyer:

August 17th, 2024

Currently Raised:

$410/$15000

[4dbeingguide]

there is only one sentence you need to know as a manifestor:

the 3D/physical world isn’t real. only the mind is.

disclaimers:

this is slightly rant-y though i don’t attack you, i uplift you

excuse any grammar errors!

credit to all the artists whose art was used!

let’s get into it.

you do not exist/live in the 3D, you simply perceive your own mind and assumptions in three dimensions. the 3D is an illusion. it isn’t real. the phone you’re reading this on, your surroundings, me writing this post, “other” people, they’re not real.

this will literally answer all the questions you have about LOA. examples include:

“what if what i’m doing won’t make anything manifest in the 3D?” then boo-fucking-hoo? it wouldn’t even matter because that’s not where you live. you’re 4-dimensional. if it’s happened in the 4D, it’s fucking happened! put it in your success story list. rejoice now that it’s happened. because it has! the 3D is NOT real, the 4D is so you should be checking the 4D! think about this question: “what if it doesn’t manifest in the 2D (a world of only length and width)?” i bet you’re like “womp womp? the fuck would that have to do with me? i don’t live there!” give that SAME energy to the 3D. you live in the 4D.

“where is it in the 3D?” why do you care? it’s not where you live. CONSCIOUSNESS is the only reality. you heard me. you shouldn’t give a fuck about whether it will manifest in the 3D or not because the 3D doesn’t determine reality, YOU do. why do you want confirmation from an illusion when you can have confirmation from what’s actually real (the mind)?

“but if i stop caring about whether it’ll manifest or not, it might not manifest!” first of all, womp womp then? you don’t live in the 3D. second of all, that’s literally impossible unless you directly/intentionally assume that it’s the case. the 3D literally EXISTS as a reflection/limited perception of the mind. it’s LAW that it will come. and the last time i checked, “i don’t care whether it comes or not” and “it won’t come” are different statements. but what i just find so hilarious about this one specific doubt is that you’ve literally just PROVEN your THOUGHTS create the 3D.

“i can’t manifest abc! it goes against the laws of physics/circumstances etc” lemme just get this straight. the MIND is the only reality yet you are lying and saying it has limits based off of 3D “law”? and the 3D is not real meaning the “laws” of the 3D aren’t either? the 3D doesn’t and will never be able to tell the mind what to do. that being said, you can manifest pissing a million bucks, teleporting into a villa in italy or becoming wanda fucking maximoff and developing superpowers. you can manifest hulk hogan flying across the pacific to your door and proposing to you, hell, you can even manifest BECOMING hulk hogan. you can manifest your SPs buying you three million bentleys then making out with you in each of them. you can manifest going back in time. you. can. manifest. ANYTHING. you. can. manifest. anything. you. can. imagine. you’re OMNIPOTENT.

this one is very interesting cause it’s a response to doubts! “if i keep doubting, it won’t show up in the 3D!” the reason your doubts persist is because your mind thinks they actually mean shit and are an issue worth addressing. so what if it doesn’t show up in the 3D? it’s already happened.

“but what if im one of the odd ones out? what if i can’t manifest?” despite the fact that it’s scientific law, the rebuttal for this doubt is very simple. you wouldn’t be alive lmao. being alive is a constant act of the 3D reflecting your mind, that’s literally its only purpose. it’s an inanimate, mindless, limited perception of your mind that instantly conforms to your beliefs. you are CONSTANTLY manifesting. what you’re doing is just learning how to control WHAT you manifest. (just to set the record straight. this doesn’t mean you are to blame for your problems since you didn’t consciously choose them).

“the 3D isn’t showing me what i want!” well it isn’t real lmao? why the fuck would that matter?

one of the WORST beliefs you can have as a manifestor is that the goal of manifesting is changing the 3D. i know you (probably) came in thinking that but i want you to shed that belief. the 3D is not real. the goal is to get it in the 4D, where you live. when you accomplish that goal, rejoice and move on.

this is why i very, VERY heavily dislike the statement that “an assumption persisted in will harden into fact”. no, an assumption IS a fact. only regarding something as real when it manifests in the 3D (which isn’t real) is fallacious.

“thoughts create reality” i bet you’ve heard this before in this community but i don’t like this either for this simple reason: thoughts (that you accept) ARE reality.

my biggest piece of advice to you as a manifestor is this: realize that the 3D doesn’t mean shit.

when you DO get your manifestation in the 3D, it’s perfectly fine to be happy but don’t jump up and down saying “it’s finally happened (in reality)!”. NO. it happened in reality ages ago, the 3D just caught up.

i’m gonna link some really sexy posts that will help you understand this better. most of these are scientific.

https://www.reddit.com/r/NevilleGoddard/s/AmlHe5oipA (the post is up, i don’t understand why tumblr won’t embed it)

if you liked this post, leave a like, reblog, engage, follow, let me know if this helped 🫶😭

[gibberishfangirl]

WIND BREAKER | you size them up

Synopsis ✰ head cannons of how the boys react when you unexpectedly size them up

Characters ✰ Haruka Sakura, Hajime Umemiya, Hayato Suo, Akihiko Nirei, Jo Togame, Choji Tomiyama

Contains ✰ sfw! playful content, play/pretend fighting, giggling, cute content of the boys getting caught off guard

Haruka Sakura ᡣ𐭩

☆ you’re crazy if you think this man will ever back down

☆ he doesn’t care if you’re dating, he never backs down from a fight

☆ he’s confused at first but then immediately gets the hint of what you’re doing

☆ he takes that shit personally

☆ “what you tryna do?” he challenges

☆ he puts his hands up and gets in his fighting stance

☆ “c’mon put your hands up.” he says jumping around you in circles

☆ he pretends to swing on you and punches the air around you

☆ expect him to mimic fighting sounds

☆ “yeahhh that’s what i thought, you don’t want this.” he says in the middle of his fake punches swinging at the air next to you

☆ after he’s done he taunts you, “yeahhh try that shit again.”

☆ his reaction to it makes you giggle like a love sick fool

Hajime Umemiya ᡣ𐭩

☆ he laughs once he realizes what you’re doing

☆ he finds it to be very humorous

☆ “oh? you tryna fight right now?“ he teases

☆ he immediately sizes you up back, two can play this game

☆his stance is intimidating as hell but you can’t bring yourself to back down

☆ you cross your arms and tilt your head up high

☆ NEVER BACK DOWN, NEVER WHAT ?!?!

☆ you squeal as he picks you up and swings you over his shoulder

☆ spins you around until you’re dizzy

☆ “had enough yet??” he questions after the third spin

☆ he makes you giggle so much during it

☆ he will not stop until you give

☆ “okay! okay! i give!” you admitted defeat after the tenth spin around

☆ places you down on your feet and gives you a soft kiss on your lips after

Hayato Suo ᡣ𐭩

☆ he can’t help himself

☆ he has the most shit-eating grin at your cuteness

☆ he thinks you sizing him up is adorable

☆ “you’re so cute and silly” he coos

☆ you take that as a sign of disrespect

☆ you gasp in response and frown

☆ “i can be intimate if i want to be!” you argued

☆ he laughs at your rebuttal

☆”yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night.” he says while walking away laughing at you

☆ he ruffles your hair on the way out leaving you dumbfounded

☆ you’ve never faced such a high amount of disrespect

☆ you practice your sizing up stance in the mirror every night after that incident of disrespect

☆ you make it a mission to gain the ability of being intimidating

Akihiko Nirei ᡣ𐭩

☆ he already knows you’re doing it to mess with him

☆ “oh? you’re trying to start something?” he challenges stepping up to you

☆ this officially begins the playful pushing war

☆ surprisingly enough he starts it by slightly shoving you to the side

☆ you return the favor by giving him the hardest shove to the floor

☆ you take off running and laughing after you see him fall hard on his ass

☆ he immediately gets up and tries to run after you at full speed

☆ you run around the whole block for miles, him behind you the entire time

☆ slowly transforms into a game of tag

☆ the two of you go back and forth running around

☆ you’re both exhausted by the end of it

☆ you’re both quite literally huffing and puffing trying to regain control of your breathing

☆ you both lay on the grass for awhile after

☆ “i totally won” “what? you’re crazy, i definitely won” “nuh-uh!” “yuh-huh!”

Jo Togame ᡣ𐭩

☆ his eyebrows immediately raised in amusement

☆ “who exactly do you think you’re scaring?”

☆ sizes you back

☆ he makes sure not to come off as too intimidating since he doesn’t want to scare you

☆ “you tryna fight?” you challenged

☆ “you think you can take me?” he scoffs

☆ you’re swept off your feet before you can even react

☆ he full on body slams you into the bed

☆ not too rough obviously, he still cares about you

☆ you break out into giggles and screams as he starts tickling you

☆ you almost pee yourself before you finally break free

☆ “STOP, STOP, I DONT LIKE THIS GAME” you scream squirming out of his grasp (pls tell me you get the reference)

☆ you run out of the room in a fit of laughter

☆ he sprints after you

☆ don’t start something you can’t finish

Choji Tomiyama ᡣ𐭩

☆ he just smiles at you brightly

☆ he’s fully aware of what you’re doing

☆ you’ve been on a mission to get this man to play fight you since forever

☆ he giggles as you begin to punch the air around him

☆ “c’mon fight back” you joke jumping around him as you continued to swing at the air

☆ he doesn’t want or has any intention to engage in play fighting with you

☆ secret confession: he’s too scared about the possibility of hurting you

☆ his aggressive hugs are one thing, fighting is a completely different thing

☆ he’s aware of his strength and gets nervous to the concept of play fighting

☆ you accept defeat at this attempt

☆ “you may have won this time but i’ll be back!” you warn with your first up as you walked away from the smiling boy

☆ “uh-huh whatever you say.” he giggles

☆ finds your attempts to be cute and amusing

[peachesofteal]

Light On - single mom/neighbor fic - reader POV - cw: grief Simon Riley/female reader

"Breathe, honey. Try to take a deep breath for me."

Simon is frantic, cradling your face in his hands, pulling away your own to try to look in your eyes, his own wide with horror, worry.

This isn't fair. This isn't right. This is confusing.

"I- I'm sorry." You sob, because it's the only thing you can say, the only thing he can think of, and he shakes his head like he disagrees with you.

"No, no. Sorry for what?" You can't make it make sense, to him, in your own head, and when you try to talk, nothing comes out but a broken cry. "Shhh. You're alright. Just breathe." He tries to soothe you, and it only makes you cry harder, sob welling in your chest. "Are you hurt?"

"No!" you protest. "No, you didn't... I'm not... I-"

"Okay, okay. Hey, look at me sweetheart. I'm right here, I've got you." He coos, still holding you, wiping your tears, keeping you close. "You're okay." You bury your face in his chest, letting him wrap you up, cuddle you close, all while your mind spins and spirals, heart aching like it's been broken all over again. This wasn't supposed to happen. You're not supposed to feel this way. You're supposed to be happy. Aren't you happy?

"I'm sorry." You whisper when you find your voice, and he hums a raspy rebuttal. "No, I... you don't deserve this, to be saddled with this, a-" A widow, and a baby. An emotional basket case. A burden.

"Stop." He looks down at you with sincerity, severe certainty in his eyes, and you gulp at the intensity, shuddering when his lips graze your skin gently. "I don't deserve you, sweetheart. I know that for sure, but not in the way you're thinking right now. I'm not being saddled with anything."

"You don't understand." You shake your head.

"Then tell me." He encourages. "Tell me. I'll listen." He caresses your cheek, touch gentle and caring, devoted, and you close your eyes.

"Okay."

Simon makes you a cup of tea. When he returns to press it into your hands, you're sitting up in bed, donning one of the t shirts you found on the floor.

"Is that my shirt?" He asks, cocking his head, and you nod bashfully, lip tucked between your teeth. "Looks good on you." You reach for the mug with shaking hands, trying to take a deep breath and collect your thoughts. "Take your time." He murmurs. "I'm here. We've got all night." He's not going to want you anymore, once he realizes. Once you tell him how you feel, what you're thinking. You shake the thoughts free, trying to banish them. He said you could tell him. You trust him. You can do this. Just be honest.

"Emmaline's dad died the week we found out we were pregnant." You whisper, unable to look at him. "It was a housing fire, big building. Like this one." You take a sip, watching the way his fingers sit lax in the bed, close enough to touch you, but giving you space. "There was a power surge, or something. Half the city lost electricity and he got called in. It wasn't unusual, he was a Lieutenant, and they're responsible for a crew, a truck. I thought... I thought I'd just go to bed, wake up in the morning, and he'd be there next to me. Like always, on big calls."

"But he wasn't."

"He wasn't. Instead, his Engineer, and his Captain, were at my door with his helmet in their hands." You bite down on your tongue, fruitlessly stalling the tears and the breakdown that's fighting it's way up your throat. "I loved him so much." As soon as you say it, your voice breaks, vision going blurry, and Simon reaches for you, holding your free hand, stroking a thumb across your knuckles. "I haven't been... I haven't been with anyone, since then."

"Oh, sweetheart." You set the tea down on the table next to the bed, pulling air in through your nose as much as you can, trying to regulate your heart rate, your breathing.

"I thought I knew what love was." You whisper, peeking up at him, soft brown eyes watching you patiently. "But this... feels different. It feels like... more. And that... that makes me feel like I'm betraying him. Like I'm dishonoring the love we shared. I feel guilty, and awful, like I'm doing something wrong." You close your eyes, losing your control, your battle, lower lip trembling with a sob. It tumbles out of you, hoarse and raw, everything falling away as you cry. There's a knife, in your chest, in your heart, twisting and sawing and stabbing, and it hurts, it hurts so badly, the sharp ache only soothed when Simon pulls you into his arms, cradling you against his chest, hand smoothing up and down your spine.

"Sh-shhh." He's settled you into his lap completely now, legs and hips and entire body, wrapped up tight, safe and secure. A small amount of tension sags away from your frame, relieved that he's not running, white hot guilt and grief and still burning in the pit of your stomach. "You're not doing anything, anything, wrong, sweetheart." He thumbs at a tear on your cheek. "It's natural to feel grief like this, it's normal. But you're not betraying him, or your marriage. He'll always be a part of you, and Emmaline." He's rocking you, murmuring softly above your ear, and you relax more, letting him calm you, put you back together piece by piece, your tears starting to slow, your chest rising and falling at a more regular pace. "I want to tell you something." He says after a while, once it's been quiet for a few minutes. You nod, trying to encourage him. "My mum is gone." You push off from him, looking up into his eyes. They're sad, and you see grief in them, despair, but also a deep depth of love. "She taught me how to cook, when I was a young lad. Always told me it would come in handy, when I fell in love." He takes a deep breath, burying his face in your neck for a second before coming back up for air. "She never got to see that, me with someone else. In love. And for years, I thought I disappointed her, let her down, even in death."

"Simon." You whisper, heart breaking apart all over again for the pain that's embedded across his face, the torment that bleeds from his expression.

"But, ever since I met you- I've thought, maybe she's lookin' out for me. That she's somewhere, out there, still bein' my mum. Sending me angels." He blinks, lashes wet, the tear that drips down your face mirroring his own. "Sending you, and Emma. And maybe your husband, is doing the same." You close your eyes, remembering the first time you ever saw Simon, on the roof, handsome in the morning light, even though he seemed so exhausted. You remember the way he held Emmaline, the first time he gave her a bottle, your little baby so at home in his giant arms, safe and cuddled against his chest like she just fit there. When he came to your rescue in the park, scary enough to make every scatter but all you felt was safety. The first time he kissed you, on his patio in the snow. And tonight, when he promised to give you everything, when he held you, made love to you, promised to take care of you. Your heart races in your chest, fingers clutching onto him, holding as tight as you can.

"Am I your angel, Simon Riley?" You wondered aloud with wide eyes, leaning into him, nose to nose. He kisses you, face wet with tears, voice hoarse when he answers.

"You're mine, as I'm yours, sweetheart."

[anantaru]

friends with benefits with alhaitham but he's so awfully blunt about it— simply put, words cannot possibly describe how deeply you're regretting your decision to ever step into this sort of relationship with him.

hey now, in all seriousness, you don't regret it.

"are you gonna come over tonight?" alhaitham hums, a little aloof, without breaking the attention of his gaze on his newly purchased book, "to have sex?" he can't be bothered to give it much more details at the moment.

this time though, it's more urgent, in any other case he wouldn't say the quiet part out loud like that.

alas, he continues, "i got the whole place to myself," as he hints before continuing to flip through the pages and pretend like he hasn't just said all of this to you.

to see your face, you were certain he would immediately get the hint, oh well, scrap that, he probably knows how it's coming across anyways.

in alhaitham's personal opinion, there was no specific, logical reasoning as to why he should sweet-talk around this subject, in fact, the both of you have agreed on having this special friendship— so making it overly complicated with insincere flattery would actually give him a migraine.

again, of all the things alhaitham could've just said, you expected this one hundred percent and over.

"don't just say it like that!" you yell and shove at his shoulder, "what if someone hears you?"

"who? there's no one here," there goes that handsome, unbothered voice again, never without an even more handsome smile— the very one making your stomach twist heavily, eyes gleam vividly and legs turn into jelly.

alhaitham knows exactly what your behavior means, or your lack of response now. he determines it by the amount of time you require to find a rebuttal to say, well or, yell back at him— alas, he'll hear you scream tonight anyways, so those few shouts now aren't going to hurt him.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

Oral Arguments

Pairing: Husband!Bucky x Female!Doctor!Reader

Word Count: 2,072

Warnings: oral sex

A/N: I’m not usually a fan of the Y/N and Y/L/N thing, but needs must. Sorry, I just had to vent about this personal issue. Thank you Daisy @firefly-graphics for this banner!

It was late when you finally crawled into bed. Bucky was already there, for once. 

“Hey, doll!”

“That’s Doctor Y/L/N to you, buddy,” you poked him angrily in the chest.  “Not Mrs. Bucky Barnes!”

Bucky’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline, shocked by your sudden outburst. He had no chance to make a rebuttal as you continued with your rant.

“Just because I’m a woman, it doesn’t make me any less of a doctor… or professional, for that matter,” you grumbled.

“Of course it doesn’t.”

You continued without listening to his response. “I hate that parents say ‘tell the lady what’s wrong’ but with male doctors it’s ‘tell the doctor’.”

Even though he longed to interrupt with words of comfort, Bucky suspected that you wouldn’t take very kindly to it at this particular moment in time. 

“I’m sick of being known as somebody’s appendage. I worked my ass off to get my degree and to hold the position I do now and it’s infuriating that it means nothing.”

You barely noticed the look of shock and worry on Bucky’s face as you vented your frustrations.

“This is your fault, that’s what it is!” You turned to him and poked him in the chest with your index finger.

“M-my fault?” Bucky asked, eyes widening with surprise.

“Yeah! You had to go and make me fall in love with you and marry you!” you pouted. 

“Oh, well then I guess I’m guilty as charged. I don’t regret it,” Bucky smiled, relief washing over him.

“Well now it’s all Mrs. Barnes this, Mrs. Barnes that. I mean these are the same people who once called me Dr. Y/L/N. Just because I’m married I suddenly lose my title. It’s not fair. I hate that I have to work twice as hard to prove myself of being capable.”

“I know, doll.”

“It’s exhausting.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine.”

Suddenly you felt incredibly dejected and your shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry… for yelling. I shouldn’t have.”

“You have every right to get the respect you deserve.” Bucky out his large hands on your arms, gently rubbing them.

“You know I love being your wife. I wouldn’t have it any other way. But not I’m just-”

“My wife?”

You sighed, feeling deflated and completely out of steam.

“I know just the thing!” Bucky’s lips twitched with mischief. “Turn around.”

You did as he asked and Bucky shuffled up behind you, his long thick fingers massaging the knots from your shoulder blades, making you moan in pleasure, and sending pulses of warmth through your neurons. You could feel the knots of tension ebb away with the kneading of his strong digits. Slowly, his touch softened to feather light brushes across your bare shoulders.

The tip of Bucky’s nose tickled your neck, taking in your scent: jasmine and watery cyclamen shampoo. His warm breath sent shivers down your arms as he traced the contour of your neck; lips followed in suit, sweeping the skin on the nape. Bucky moved closer, his chest flush against your back as he nibbled at the helix of your ear, teeth gently scraping your skin.

“Buck, that tickles,” you giggled and turned to face him.

Tilting your face up to meet his eyes, you met his gentle soft look of adoration. You could feel his love and devotion and an almost schoolgirl blush rose to your cheeks.

“Buck, I-” you opened your mouth to thank him, but he silenced you gently with a tap of his finger to your upper lip.

“Shhh, you deserve nothing but the best.”

He traced the outline of your lips, grazing the grooves first with his forefinger, but as you closed your eyes to enjoy the sweet sensation, the texture of his contact changed. Tantalizingly, his lips danced the tango with yours, you breathed in the scent of scotch, and knew that he had indulged in a nightcap before you had rather obtrusively invaded his peaceful evening. Tilting your head back and lifting your jaw, you reached forward longingly, craving the taste of his tongue, his own unique twist of coffee and whiskey. Except that his mouth was just out of reach, guarded by this handsome nose. Every step you took to claim his lips was countered gracefully with the nuzzle of his nose against yours. Unable to satisfy your craving, you opened your eyes to glare into those sapphire orbs, which you knew would stoke the fire that was already raging inside of you. His eyes were wide open, pupils dilated, waiting to meet your gaze, filled with mirth and lust.

“You know it drives me nuts when you tease me like this.”

His lips turned upwards into a smirk at your words, but he remained frustratingly silent, so unlike your smooth-talking husband who always had an opinion, always something to say.

Instead, his thumb stroked the notch of your clavicle tenderly, his fingers working their way across your shoulder, slipping off the silky strap of your chemise. For every motion his fingers made, his eyes never left yours, his attention never waning, even when they brushed your nipple, making you gasp and lean back into his chest. His hand lingered on your bosom, as the other explored the remainder of your body, roaming over your arm, across your stomach, stroking your thighs. Up and down, his hand glided over your frame, every caress did nothing but ignite an insatiable yearning, a longing to be filled.

Each seductive slide, the occasional tantalizing twirl, he edged closer to satisfying your ever increasing desire but never quite giving you the relief you craved. Releasing you from his embrace, Bucky lowered you down onto the pillows behind you, stopping for a moment, only to gently brush the stray strand of hair from your face and give you an adoring smile before returning to his ministrations. His mouth left a blazing trail of kisses from your jaw, down your chest and belly, stopping short of giving you any real pleasure, only adding fuel to the tempestuous flame that raged at your core.

The base of his palm nestled itself on your pubic symphysis as comfortably as though it was made to be there. The pressure applied by his digits made you whimper longingly, each push at the fabric of your underwear made you buck your hips wantonly with the smallest of hopes that he would give you the release you desired. Keeping his hand hovering over the wetness permeating your panties, he placed a hand between your thighs, pulling them apart, splaying your legs, making a great show of his microscopic examination of your personal anatomy.

Finally you could no longer take the agonizing wait for your own gratification, the words burst from your mouth without thought or control, “Bucky please, could you just fuck me already?”

“Gladly,” he growled, although you could barely hear him over the blood coursing through your vessels.

Bucky was rarely one to rush into things headlong, rarely. Pushing aside the small strip of material covering your dripping slit, he slid his fingers between your folds, sending a burst of ecstacy spiraling through to your fingertips. Ever so slowly he parted your lips, lowering himself between them. 

You held your breath in anticipation of what you knew was coming, his eyes told you exactly what he intended. Despite the promise of pleasure, you weren’t prepared for the electrifying sensation that burst through you as Bucky’s tongue touched your clit. This was only the first of a series of impulses, delightful, delicious, delectable, dazzling, delirious! They fired through your nervous system, sending waves of euphoria to every fiber of your being. Twirling, flicking, sucking, he devoured you with fervor. Within minutes you felt dangerously close to coming undone, your body undulated with the rhythm of his tongue. It was a struggle to keep your eyes on him, your hands clutched at the sheets; he was certainly enjoying watching you unravel at the seams. 

Just as you thought you couldn’t stand it anymore, Bucky made you cry out as he slipped two fingers inside you, flexing them slightly into the shape of a hook as he dragged them in and out of your leaking center. The thrusts weren’t hard, neither were they fast, just paced, the same as the stroke of his tongue. Together they massaged the small bundle of nerves to reach your zenith, making you convulse in bliss as your orgasm finally hit, like a tidal wave, strong with its first impact but spreading far and wide, filling every nook and every cranny in its fluidity.  He continued to milk you through your climax, until the tide ebbed away, leaving you lying on the beach of paradise.

Needless to say, he looked rather proud of himself, as he rose from his position. Bucky pulled back the scrunched up material of your lacy garment, smoothing away the creases before leaving a chaste kiss on your silk covered lips.

“One of those would be nice up here, too,” you smiled, pointing at your mouth. 

Still sat between your open legs, Bucky leaned over to indulge you in a real kiss. And even as his tongue worked its magic in a whole new way, you became aware of his throbbing appendage as it pressed against you, begging for attention.

“Buck, do you want me to take care of that for you?” you breathed out between kisses.

He finally spoke, “no, it’s fine. Today is about you.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind… in fact, I want to.”

“It’s ok, I got this,” he rose to go to the bathroom.

“Buck!” you called after him, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Wait!”

He turned to look at you expectantly.

“Stay?” you asked hopefully, then hesitantly, “if you don’t mind, I- I’d like to watch.”

His eyes darkened. “Really?”

You patted at the space between your legs. “Only if you want to.”

Bucky crawled back to the space he had not long evacuated and it occurred to you that he suddenly looked a little unsure of himself. This wasn’t something either of you had done previously.

“You probably need to remove your pants to deal with that,” you nodded at the bulge in his pants that seemed to be ever increasing.”

“Doctor’s orders?”

“I recommend removal for thorough examination,” you sat up, curled your legs beneath you and leaned closer for a view.

The tables had turned and now your husband was the one sitting exposed between your legs. He stood to attention before your eyes, hard and erect, with a glisten at the head which told you he was ready for action. The urge to reach out and stroke him was strong, but you held your hands away, as he had asked. Your breath came hard and fast as you watched Bucky work his hand up and down his length. 

Mesmerized, you found it impossible to tear your eyes away from the way Bucky’s fingers slid over the ridges of his erection, the well defined grooves that frequently drove you crazy when he pushed inside you. Intently you watched, that was until you felt Bucky’s eyes boring into you. Your gaze snapped up to meet his. The smirk on his lips was bigger than ever and for the first time all evening, you felt a blush creep into your already flushed cheeks, the garnacha rosé turning a merlot red. You bit your lip and smiled shyly. It was Bucky who broke eye contact, as his eyes rolled back and his eyelids fluttered furiously.

“Doll, pass me a condom- quickly.” 

“Why?”

“Easier clean up,” he muttered breathlessly. 

“I have a better idea,” you pointed at your mouth. 

There was no time for objections or closing arguments, the verdict was in. Panting slightly, he nodded and you nimbly scooted around to place your mouth at his tip, in time to see him shudder and catch the eruption of his sweet silvery elixir. Bucky did his best to keep his gaze glued to yours, as you swallowed the luscious nectar of his rapture, giving his tip a quick but unauthorized kiss. He watched as you withdrew your lips, stained with succulent drops of milky paradise.

Both of you lay back on the pile of pillows behind you, much more relaxed than you had been before.

“Buck?” you called tentatively.

“Mmmm?” he hummed in response.

“You can call me Mrs. Barnes whenever you like.”

[nariism]

you're mad at him.

you're mad at him and he knows it. you've been giving wriothesley the silent treatment ever since you arrived at the fortress of meropide, bandages in hand and a flurry of curses erupting nonstop from your mouth.

not a single word has been uttered between you since you sat him down in his office. despite refusing to speak to him, much less look him in the eye, you're dutifully bandaging up his raw knuckles like you remember sigewinne showing you back when she decided to go on vacation.

"it's very easy," her voice rings in your ears. you bite your tongue to prevent yourself from snarking back at her imaginary presence.

you only hoped she was enjoying herself up on the surface, accompanying neuvillette for the first time in ages. while she absolutely did deserve a vacation, you wished that she had given wriothesley a stern set of instructions to take care of himself in her absence.

if she did, maybe you wouldn't have had to come all the way down here just to witness him in such a state. your poor heart can't take this kind of worry.

the warden has come out the pankration the most unscathed, only sporting a split lip and bloody nose. his knuckles are red and cut, but it's nothing in comparison to the two inmates who had decided it was a good idea to incite a riot in what should be a controlled environment of the prison.

physically, he's fine. emotionally, he's having a complete meltdown.

he can't take this silence anymore; can't bear having you be upset with him, knowing that he should have been more careful about rushing in to stop the riot himself. the prison is crawling with guards for a reason, yet in his haste he decided it would be faster to intervene alone.

"hey," wriothesley calls out softly, timid despite his looming presence over you. "i didn't mean to worry you or–"

"why can't you be more careful?" you suddenly interrupt, voice cracking weakly. you gaze up from where you're kneeling on the floor, bandages halting in the air while you challenge him with your eyes. "don't you know how stupid and reckless that was?"

he holds your stare for a few moments, stunned by your sudden rebuttal. and then you tear your eyes away from his again, focusing back on tenderly wrapping up his hand.

"you always make me so worried staying down here day and night," you continue, voice so quiet he can barely make out your words.

"i'm sorry," he tells you earnestly.

"i know you're strong. i know it. but you're not invincible. would it kill you to cherish your life a little more?"

"i'm sorry," he says again.

you falter, a sigh escaping you as you peer up at him again. there's something softer in the way you look at him now, with all your frustration melting away into concern. you rummage through your bag for a wet wipe before standing to cradle his face.

wriothesley can't breathe when you're being so gentle with him. his hands find your waist and squeeze it to draw you even closer, until he can almost rest his head against your stomach.

"i love you," you finally tell him, and he feels the relief wash over him. "i can't stand seeing you hurt, so please be more careful."

you swipe the cloth under his nose a few times, gently dabbing at the skin and cleaning up the blood that has dried there. his steely eyes drift shut under your warm touch, allowing you to clean his face. when he only nods in response, your hand stops.

"promise me."

he looks at you again, a brow raised at your stern tone. but he would always relent to you, no matter what it is you wanted.

"i promise."

you blink down at him for a second, taking in how beautiful he is underneath his bloody nose. finally, you lean down to kiss the top of his head— a gesture of forgiveness and love that he's grown so accustomed to.

there's sunshine in your smile when you pull away from him to discard the used wipe, all previous signs of anguish gone from your expression.

his heart nearly stops at the sight.

you were right. he should cherish himself more. he can't stand seeing you fret over him even if it is a little endearing.

for now, he'll just enjoy having you take care of him. it's been so long since he returned to the surface, all he wants to do right now is bask in the light you bring down here with you.

"oh nurse," he teases, giving your hips another squeeze. "my lip got busted, too. got a remedy?"

you roll your eyes but press a kiss to his lips anyways.

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

[mariespen]

The High Road ୧ ₊˚ ⋅⩩

Rafe Cameron x fem!reader ୧ ‧₊ Summary: Rafe's girl gets into a fight of her own Warnings: arguments between reader + her friends, depiction of mild injury, swearing, name-calling

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ೀ⋆｡˚── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮

You were absolutely furious, fingers typing so aggressively that Rafe could’ve sworn your phone was going to split into two. Your eyebrows were furrowed, frustrated sighs and groans coming from your perch at the edge of the bed. Your boyfriend, Rafe, was propped up on the headboard, waiting patiently for you to start complaining again so he could convince you to leave it alone.

“I just.. I don’t get it!” You finally complained, throwing yourself back onto the sheets and carrying your phone with you, rolling onto your stomach to continue typing.

“Hm?” He asked, looking at you and growing increasingly impatient but trying his best to keep up the facade.

“Brianna keeps saying.. ugh!” You looked at your phone with confusion and disgust, starting to type again with even more anger than before. “What is goin’ on? Can’t be that big a deal.” Rafe said, rolling his eyes at your dramatics.

“Brianna is saying that I told Jessie that her ex was hanging out with Jamie but I never said that!” You protested, not raising your gaze to look at his confused face as you continued, “She said that I’m a lying slut but she doesn’t even have any proof!”

Rafe shifted, his defensive side slowly coming out as he heard the full details of the conversation. You went on, re-reading messages while still typing out rebuttals to Brianna’s angry claims, desperately trying to bring Rafe up to speed.

“She won’t let me get a word out, Jesus!” You scoffed, finally looking up at Rafe as tears slowly started to brim your eyes.

“Hey.. hey. S’okay, um..” He said, gently pulling you up to comfort your shaking body, “Let’s just.. go to her house. Reason with her, yeah?” His suggestion seemed absolutely crazy, but you weren’t ready to keep typing out response after response. Rafe had always told you to be the bigger person, even if most of the time he didn’t follow his own advice. This was your way to end the petty drama.

Rafe’s eyes widened with a bit of surprise when you nodded your head in agreement, “Really?” He asked, a little caught off-guard that you actually want to take his advice for once.

“Yeah, let’s go. Gotta be the bigger person.” You said, your voice an angry murmur as you stood up, pulling your poor, confused boyfriend up with you.

“Whatever you say, princess.” He said, letting you drag him to his car with determined steps.

The two of you got into the sporty car and you crossed your arms over your chest, too angry to play music off of your phone like you normally did. Thoughts raced through your mind as the reality of the situation dawned on you. You knew it was too late to turn back anyways, and Brianna needed someone to talk some sense into her.

Rafe pulled up to her house, looking at you with a knowing gaze as you stormed out of the car. You were on a roll, up until you approached the front door. You let go of some pride when you turned around, waiting for Rafe to be by your side. Eventually, you knocked angrily on the door with him behind you, standing awkwardly with his hands shoved into his pockets.

Brianna opened the door, immediately rolling her eyes at your furious face.

“Why are you saying all of this stuff about me?” You asked, arguing with your hands as you tried to get her to talk to you like a normal person.

“I’m only telling the truth.” She said plainly, obviously trying to stifle a giggle.

“What is your problem with me?” You said, voice raising as she rolled her eyes again.

“Never had a problem with you until today. You lied, sweetie.” She said, glancing over to her side a few times with a smirk filled to the brim with faux confidence.

You looked behind you to Rafe, a confused look on your face as he returned it with a crease in his brow. You looked around the corner, inviting yourself in despite Brianna’s protests. Your jaw dropped when you realized that Jessica and Jamie were both sitting in her living room, giggling to themselves before your eyes connected with theirs. That shut them up real quick. 

Without hesitation you invited yourself in, Rafe following behind you but stopping at the door frame as you and Brianna got into it again.

“You know you’re lying!” You yelled, pointing an accusatory finger in her annoyed face.

“All I know is that you’re a whore who likes to cause drama for attention.” Rafe’s face dropped and you stopped your rant, waiting for anything else to come out of her mouth. Lucky for her, nothing ever did.

“What did you just say?” You asked, astonished that she would ever say something like that while she knew what a hypocrite it made her.

“Yeah, what?” Rafe said from the doorway, the reminder of his presence giving you an extra, and probably unnecessary, boost of confidence.

“God Rafe, mind your business.” Brianna scoffed, stalking towards you. “Don’t talk to him like that.” You said defensively, taking an equal amount of steps to her as well.

“I’ll talk to him however the fuck I want to. In fact, I think you both are attention whores with daddy issu-“

Your fist made contact with her face before you could even think about it. She crumpled to the ground, holding her cheek. The realization set in and you started to step away, but she got up and swung back almost instantly. 

Suddenly, the two of you were throwing your fists wherever you could reach, yelling and screaming over the sound of skin on skin. Naturally, Rafe swooped in the keep Brianna away and take your place. As expected, she backed off at the sight of Rafe who had a impulsively violent stare in his own eyes. Like clockwork, you got right back to swinging when Rafe initially let go of you. He grabbed your waist, pulling you away as you yelled and screamed, trying to break away to swing again. “Hey.. Hey! Shut up, will ya? Jesus.” Rafe said quietly into your ear, forcing you out of the house before sweeping you off of your feet when you tried to go back again.

“C’mon tough guy, s’time to go home, a’ight?” He asked you, appearing to be satisfied with the annoyed nod that you gave him.

The ride back home consisted of his occasional concerned glances and your inevitable tears, pouring down your face and onto your swollen lips. You had opened your mouth to say something, maybe an explanation, maybe some kind of defense, but nothing came out and the two of you sat in silence.

Rafe let out a prolonged sigh when he finally got to tannyhill, parking and looking over at you to get a better view. He took your salty-wet face in his hand as he looked you over. A busted lip, lightly black eye, and a few other minor injuries were what you brought back, along with fresh tears as he looked at you with disappointment.

“Thought you were gonna take the high road on this one, hm? Rafe asked, brushing the messy strands of your hair away from your face.

“M’sorry Rafey..” You tried to start an apology, but empty sobs came out of your chest and he held your face in his hands, trying to comfort you as you cried.

The severity of the situation had finally set into you as Rafe made you sit on the kitchen counter to bandage your scratches.

“Didn’t know my girl could swing like that. Didn’t know you had it in ya.” He commented with an unreadable smile, getting the homemade first aid kit from the pantry and eventually coming back to you.

Bandages littered your body as Rafe picked you up, carrying you up to his bedroom and laying you down.

“Thought you knew better than to do that shit..” He muttered as you curled up onto him in his own bed, “Didn’t think I would have to tell you not to start swingin’.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to stop tears from flooding your eyes again, “I didn’t mean-“ “You did the right thing.” Rafe told you, kissing the top of your head as his toxic reassurance coursed through your mind.

“Js don’t be out here doin’ that shit again.” “Wasn’t planning on it, Rafe.” “You beat her ass real good.”

You smiled.

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ೀ⋆｡˚── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

[upsideoutinsidedown]

Lololol. You wrote that load of waffle and…. You’re still gonna be wrong. I can’t wait to remind you. When you’re crying when Byler doesn’t happen, I’ll be there every step of the way…. To laugh at you. Hard. Repeatedly. It’s gonna be grand. :)

I have to admit nonnie, I didn’t expect you to read my response. I’ll have to apologize, because that was rude of me. Assumptions making asses out of all of us and all that jazz.

Your response seems to indicate you don’t know how to rebut any of my points, so, thank you. I thought my response was pretty well thought out, but it’s always nice to get confirmation.

As for if Byler doesn’t end up as endgame, well, I wouldn’t bother crying over it. Crying over bad writing doesn’t help anyone. I would be too busy working on writing my own story to provide the positive representation we missed out on with stranger things.

[madamecaos]

Angst/Comfort

(Not proof-read sorry)

Where Simon hurts you and makes up for it.

————————

“Just one more kiss, pretty girl,” Simon mumbled against the plush of your trembling thighs. He planted a slow and wet kiss on your clit, making you shiver at the overstimulation.

He had been at it all night.

Your whines at his lack of attention had given him an attitude. The files before deployment wouldn’t sign themselves, and you wanted to spend the little time you had together doing something couply.

In return, he answered in displeased huffs at your lack of understanding. That this was his job.

When you mentioned that he had agreed to a simple shopping trip beforehand, he exploded in frustration and anger. All directed at you, at your clinginess.

How you weren’t a little girl anymore, that he was not responsible for.

Instead of the expected denial or angry rebuttal, you went quiet. You allowed him to finish his job as you hid in your shared bedroom. In the rising pile of work, he didn’t notice.

Finally, standing up with a giant stretch, Simon realized the silence in his usual boisterous shared flat.

He asked for your name and no answer was given.

The apartment was dark, inhabited. Or so he thought, until he saw a still lump beneath his bedsheets. For a second he thought you were sleeping, retreating back to close the door behind him.

Until he saw you shake, a motion accompanied by a sniffle.

Simon sighed, head bent down at his inadequacy. He was often the monster that made you cry the most.

“Hey,” he cooed, settling behind you, brushing your hair as he called for your attention. You refused to look back at him, pretending to be asleep. “I’m done now. How about that shopping expedition, hm?”

You shuddered, holding in the sobs at his new compliance.

“Hey…” he tried again, yet not finishing the sentence already suspecting which words of his afflicted her.

Not very vocal, Simon laid down beside her then hugged his arms around her midsection, dragging her towards him in a cuddle.

You sniffled again, trying to muffle the sounds with your pillow.

“I… I didn’t mean what I said,” he started, tentatively petting her arm. “You’re not clingy. In fact, I think is the opposite.”

At that confession, you looked sideways, opting to stare him from your peripheral. Not ready to face him.

“I think about you so much, love. Enough to fuck up in missions. Enough for Price to send me home with a mount load of paperwork just because I was missing you.”

“Really?” You asked meekly, voice raw.

“It was the only option where I could see you… and I mucked it up.”

You rolled over slowly, still in his arms. Now facing each other in the low light bleeding through your sheer curtains.

“But you’re right,” you started, eyes watering and unable to look at his. “I’m not a little girl, you shouldn’t be made responsible for-“

“No.” He cut you off severely, decided. “You’re my girl. Little, big, fun size, whatever. You’re my girl.”

He grasped your cheeks between his palms, thumbs brushing away the tears.

“And it’s my responsibility to take care you. It’s a choice I made and I stand by it. Your needs are my needs… and your tears are my tears,” he flickered another tear away from your waterline. “And I made you cry because you wanted to spend time with me… and said those foul things in anger.”

He finished the sentence in a whisper, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “So, allow me take care of you, hmm?”

The gentle kisses on your forehead drifted over tenderly to your temple. Down to your wet cheeks, then your trembling lips.

Suddenly, with a little more urgency, he whispered against your mouth the words that had you trembling minutes later beneath his torturing tongue.

“Let me make you forget what I said.”

An hour later, after he removed every single item of your clothing, down to the socks of your feet, you laid back with your legs spread wide. A man easily twice your size suckling sloppily at your clit, caressing its hood with his placid tongue.

By the fourth orgasm, as your eyes closed drowsily, you certainly had forgotten any ill words directed at you.