#So when they do it's like seeing a whole different person

[woso-dreamzzz]

Javelin

Ona Batlle x Reader

Summary: You and Ona are each other's homes

The first time you met Ona, she kicked you in the face with a football.

In revenge, you threw it straight back at her and she accidentally lost a tooth from the impact.

You'd been best friends ever since then and your parents could barely keep the pair of you separated.

And as with all things like that, a relationship was naturally the next step.

Fumbles in the back rooms of the family home, making out in your room during family reunions, a kiss after Ona scores in an important match.

And all of those soft, teenage fumbles transformed into something much more beautiful.

You'd followed her to Manchester when she left Spain.

It had taken a lot, uprooting your whole life and moving to a different country whose language you hadn't paid much attention to in school.

Ona helped though.

Ona always helped.

That had always been the case.

Ona helped you and you helped her.

Your training never really went as long as hers. You weren't away from home as often as Ona was. Throwing a javelin wasn't quite as physically draining as football was so you were able to cook dinner and clean up and go to almost all of her matches to support her.

"That smells good."

Arms close around your waist gently and a head rests between your shoulder blades.

"Taste," You say, bringing a spoon up to Ona's lips straight from the pot," Good? Too salty? Not salty enough?"

"Perfect," Ona says," Perfect like always. You spoil me."

"You deserve to be spoiled."

Ona giggles a little, a soft kiss being pressed against your neck as she moves away. "I'll grab the plates."

You make a home in Manchester together before Barcelona come knocking and you're more than willing to return to Spain again.

You get another coaching team. You train in the heat.

You and Ona discuss a dog but nothing has come of it just yet. You bask in each other's company. You return to family reunions and seeing Ona's family on the weekend right until the summer.

The run up to the Olympics is brutal.

You're both tired and drained but it's a dream to represent Spain on a stage like that, to show people around the world just what you can do.

People watch events that they don't usually watch and if you can even convert one person into a javelin fan then it'll be an Olympics well spent.

You have your goals for this Olympics and Ona has hers.

And you hate seeing that her goals will be left unfinished.

"Hey..." You say gently as she approaches you at the barrier," I'm sorry."

You can see her putting on a brave face. You know it's fake.

You lean over and gently draw her closer.

Spain hadn't made it to the final. They'd lost the bronze medal.

Ona had lost the bronze medal.

Your own gold medal for javelin feels like a weight in your bag, heavy and you wish you could throw it in the river so Ona wouldn't be able to see it.

But you know that she knows you won it.

She'd sent a very long rambling text before setting up an accompanying phone call where she declared her love for you and told you how proud she was and how she couldn't wait to see your medal.

Now though, you don't want her to see it.

You don't want her to see it because you know she'll be reminded of what she's just lost and you can't do that to her.

You won't do that to her.

You refuse to do that to her.

So you hold Ona against you now as she rests her head in your shoulder and you play with the soft baby hairs that rest on the back of her neck.

"We've got a break now," You whisper to her, voice quiet and soft and everything she needs to hear right now," We'll go somewhere hot. With a beach. We'll relax and have some fun before the season starts again. Relax and reset."

"I wanted to win you a medal," Ona chokes out against your skin," I know you've already got one but-But I wanted to get you another one."

"I don't need another one," You assure her," I've got you. That's enough for me."

[uncreative-cryptid]

aha this has me thinking about about cannibalism and morality now, and not just for any reason, but i think the reason a lot of people can't give a better explanation of "cannibalism is bad because that's illegal" probably don't understand that centuries of death rituals and innate teachings of religion are likely at work here.

if you read the bible on death and how the dead are meant to be handled, you'll probably note something rather distinct:

Numbers 19:11 ; "Whoever touches the dead body of anyone will be unclean for seven days"

you are considered "unclean" when handling dead bodies, so i would also give to assume that the idea of eating a human body would be difficult as you would be considered unclean and would have to go through a whole ass cleansing ritual to be considered "clean" and "acceptable" again.

but this isn't the only thing at play here when it comes to cannibalism. i think that religion's views and handling of the dead also lay within their death rites and rituals, as a lot of religions will consider the human body sacred. i think it'd be abhorrent if someone you loved passed away then was flayed, sectioned, and butchered, all before you in a way to be consumed and then you were offered a piece of meat as compensation.

i can only imagine how the catholics would feel if we exhumed the saints and decided to chew on a femur or two for enrichment.

though, alternatively, consumption of a person in some ways can be seen as symbolic of love (i.e. jesus saying the bread is his body and the wine his blood, that you may consume him and accept him)

something i think a lot of people also unconsciously take into consideration without truly realizing it is that when say "corpse" you are using a very broad term that could mean anything dead.

i like to eat meat, particularly ribs. i am actively consuming a cooked corpse when i choose to eat ribs. now, why does that make it different from saying "eat humans"? well, when i consume beef or pork ribs, i am eating an animal i have over many years been conditioned to equal as a source of food.

hundreds, if not thousands, of years of society telling me that animal and livestock lives are less than. i can still vividly recall the way my family excused ruthless slaughter of farm animals for consumption as "well they aren't going to heaven because they don't have souls anyway".

so what point am i trying to make here exactly?

inherently, over a long period of time, either based in religion or just societal belief, we have conditioned ourselves to see humans as "higher" - after all, we're top of the food chain. in some arbitrary way, we've assigned ourselves as gods of a hierarchy of animals. we are sentient, we are living and breathing and aware and emotional and volatile and constantly changing creatures subject to love, hate, pain, fear, bravery, bias, and a number of learned behaviors we subconsciously take on.

because we think, therefore we am.

so we have:

religious beliefs (the dead are unclean, diseased AND the body is sacred and must be treated with respect as is their final rites for their transition into the afterlife)

humans are a "higher being" and should be treated as such

but lastly i'd like to point out that once you start thinking of humans, specifically dead humans, you begin to assign faces mentally.

the discussion of death and mortality is not often discussed outside certain circles or in the context of "a life after death, what waits beyond", and rarely do we actually discuss death in of itself.

this aversion to the discussions of death has inherently led to a lot of people becoming uncomfortable with the idea that we as mortal beings can and will die, this fate is inevitable no matter how we wish to perceive it.

i imagine that in some sense, when discussing the ethics and morals of cannibalism, we are subconsciously putting ourselves into that role. we tend to put our ego into a lot of things, because at the heart of it we are animals that want to preserve our lives to some degree.

cannibalism is uncomfortable because it poses the concept of death and humanity as nothing greater than the animals of the greater wilds, who must feast or die.

so, the points to make as to why cannibalism is "illegal" or "morally incorrect":

religious beliefs

humans are "higher beings"

the ego

humanizing what is no longer human, or what used to be human.

that last point, i highly suggest watching Caitlin Doughty's video The Rugy Team That Fell From The Sky, as it's part of her historical documentary and actually covers the topic of cannibalism (she has 3 that i can think of that cover cannibalism as a matter of fact to the story).

when faced with no alternative, people will turn to cannibalism.

in the book Tender Is The Flesh by Agustina Bazterrica, it poses the question "what if no animal on earth was edible except humans?" and proceeds with explicit detail on how man would go about handling this - it's not something i suggest reading, it is graphic and hard to stomach, but essentially:

the less human you make it, the easier it is to consume.

we personalized and humanize, we're animals who seek comfort in the pack of families and communities. the more human, the more personal, the more you will struggle to consume that which as become more real to you.

but what if we could make it something of a ritual? a sacred ritual celebrating the life that is no longer, in the same way church made me eat a cracker and drink cranberry juice every sunday morning?

cannibalism is only illegal because we as humans personalized, humanize, and elevate, ourselves and those closest to us.

this excludes the understanding of sciences and that eating a human body can lead to disease, but i'd dare to say that we simply haven't experimented with human meat based meals to have made it edible and safe like we have with the corpses of cows and chickens and pigs and fish.

cannibalism is complex and fascinating and there's a lot to it, but "morally incorrect" is only subjective based on what you believe "humans" to be.

[valiwrites]

alluring ✧.* daniel ricciardo

: ̗̀➛ pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!kalogeras!reader : ̗̀➛ warnings: age gap; reader is 25, daniel is 35, hate comments, gosspi accounts : ̗̀➛ smau

: ̗̀➛ summary: she’s the oldest kalogeras, and he’s a former f1 driver. when fans find out, they completely break the internet.

yourusername ✔︎

liked by elianakalogeras, noahrisling, danielricciardo, demitrakalogeras, sundaykalogeras and 1.3m others

yourusername editing the new video for y'all 😘

view all comments

user1 in y/n we trust ☺️

user2 i still don't know who's the oldest

user3 y/n is the oldest she's 25 then sunday she's 21 then demitra she's 18 and then eliana she's 17

user4 what's y/n's hair type??

user5 i'd say 3a or 3b

user6 i might be crazy...but is that daniel ricciardo in the likes??

user7 i thought it was a glitch!! omg he actually liked her post

elianakalogeras send me that picture pleaseee

yourusername ofc that's all u ask for 🙄

yourusername ✔︎

liked by yourbff, demitrakalogeras, danielricciardo, chrissturniolo and 3.2m others

yourusername life lately

view all comments

user1 she has a bf?? oh ma gawd will he be in the next vid??

user2 that would be epic but i doubt it

elianakalogeras just so y'all know that man could be her father 🙂

yourusername ELI!! STOP IT!

user3 lmao she's into older guys?? i get it i get it

user4 who is it please tell us!!

user5 do you guys think it's daniel??

user6 nah but he is suspiciously liking her posts 🤔

user7 he could just be a fan like us

user8 he's 35 i doubt he watches four girls on youtube for fun

user9 i put my bet that its daniel

kalogeras_news

liked by 64k users

kalogeras_news y/n kalogera accidentally shared faceless pics with her new mystery boyfriend—probably meant for her ‘only friends’ or private account! the photos were up for just a minute before getting deleted, but over 4k people already saw them. still no word on who the guy is…

view all comments

user1 it’s gotta be daniel, he’s always liking her stuff

user2 nah, i’m not convinced it’s him, could be someone else

user3 wait, daniel ricciardo? i can totally see it tho

user4 but like, why would she post it if she didn’t want anyone to know?

user5 that's why its called an 'accidental post' sherlock 🙄

user6 i lowkey thought it was a random dude but the likes make it suspicious

user7 i bet it’s someone from her friend circle, not him tho

user8 people are saying daniel because of the likes, but what if it's a whole different person?

user9 honestly, the way daniel likes all her posts, it’s gotta be him

user8 nah i don't think so. i mean she liked a lot of pedri's posts before and they aren't dating

user10 maybe she just didn’t want to make it public yet, idk

user11 either way, i wanna know who he is!

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, sundaykalogeras, noahrisling, elianakalogeras, demitrakalogeras and 2.3m others

yourusername i ain't saying anything 😤

view all comments

user1 yo that tattoo looks like daniel’s, am i tripping?

user2 that leg tattoo is too recognizable, c’mon now

user3 if that’s not daniel, i’ll eat my hat

user4 a lot of people have tattoos like that tho…

user5 okay but you look fire in these photos, y/n

user6 y/n really out here serving looks

user7 you look so good, forget the tattoo, we need more of these pics

demitrakalogeras gurl is that my bag??

yourusername yes? i'm the oldest i can take anything i want

user8 not sure why people are acting like daniel would ever date her, lmao

user9 if you’re gonna hate, at least make it creative. this is weak

yourusername

liked by elianakalogeras, demitrakalogeras, yourbff, danielricciardo and 3.5m others

yourusername i guess i do like older men

user1 i knew it was him! y'all look so cute together

user2 called it!! i knew daniel was the one she was talking about

user3 yoooo i was right all along, it was him! love this for you guys

user4 she’s 25, he’s 35… kinda creepy, no?

user5 yeah, it’s kinda weird. i’m not sure how i feel about it

user6 i mean, age gaps like this are more common than we think. not a big deal

user7 idk, i feel like people make a bigger deal out of age gaps than they need to

user8 10 years difference is wild, but okay

user11 i love you y/n, but i’m not feeling daniel. he’s just too old for you, girl

user12 honestly, why does it matter how you feel about it if she’s happy? let her live her life

kolagerascompalations ⤑ y/n and daniel being the best couple for 2 minutes straight

y/n stood next to eliana on the ice, talking to the camera while noah struggled to keep his balance on his skates, holding the camera steady. y/n turned her head to see daniel sitting on the bench, scrolling through his phone with a coffee in his hand. she skated away from the camera, and it followed her as she went to hug daniel. eliana let out a soft “aww,” while demitra chimed in with a playful “eww.”

---

while everyone’s getting ready for the video, daniel hums a random song, and y/n immediately joins in, singing the lyrics out loud. eliana and sunday give them weird looks, but daniel and y/n just smile at each other like no one else is around. “okay, that was cute,” y/n says, and daniel gives her a playful wink.

---

while filming a fun video with her sisters, demitra suddenly asks y/n, "how would you scream if you caught daniel in bed with someone else?" y/n raises her eyebrows, laughing. "that's a dramatic question!" demitra smirks, "let's recreate it!"

demitra and daniel hop into bed together, with demitra pretending to be the 'random lady.' y/n stands at the foot of the bed, taking a deep breath. "okay, here we go!"

y/n throws her hands up dramatically and lets out a loud, exaggerated scream, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" daniel bursts out laughing while demitra tries to stifle her giggles.

y/n dramatically points at demitra. "how could you betray me like this?" she fake pouts. daniel can’t stop chuckling and says, "babe i'm sorry!"

y/n finally drops the act, shaking her head with a smile. "okay, but for real, I would probably cry, not scream!" daniel stands up from the bed and leans over to her, chuckling, “I’d never do that to you, I promise!”

---

y/n and her sisters are gathered around a pottery wheel, filming a fun video. y/n glances at the camera and says, “you know, guys are really hot when they do pottery. there’s just something about it.” demitra nodded agreeing with her

just then, daniel walks into the frame, looking curious. y/n smirks at him. “what do you think? can you be a hot potter?”

without hesitation, daniel grabs a lump of clay and sits down at the wheel next to y/n, saying confidently, “watch and learn.” he starts shaping the clay, glancing over at y/n with a cheeky grin.

“okay, this is getting serious. look at you trying to prove you’re hot!” she playfully rolls her eyes, but she can’t hide her smile.

as daniel works on his pottery, y/n pretends to critique him. “that looks like a blob, daniel. I think you need more practice.” he looks over, feigning shock. “excuse me? this is art!”

eliana, watching from the side, laughs and says, “honestly, you both are cute, but i definitely wins the pottery competition!”

daniel playfully huffs, “well, I can be cute and hot at the same time, thank you very much!”

---

as daniel carries y/n, noah zooms in, teasing, “look at this simp, carrying his girl like a queen!”

---

[mooosicaldreamz]

follow the signs (supercorp)

this is for @ekingston's crazy prompt-a-whirl thingy. i got fluff + fake dating + forced to share a cab + fortune cookie which was very lucky in my opinion. and they all start with f! wow. anyway here it is, sitting at EXACTLY 1K. here's the thingy if you want to do it too.

Kara is waiting for a cab. It is midnight in Jacksonville, Florida. She’s here for a wedding she’d planned to avoid, but then Mon-El had called her and Kara had lied out her butt and said yes, me and my girlfriend will be there. And it hadn’t even been grammatically correct, let alone true.

Kara didn’t have a girlfriend. She had a career and hopes for a puppy. She and Mon-El had broken up a year ago and that’d been her last romance.

Lena had been a random choice for her fake girlfriend, the only person Kara could think of who she was close enough to ask to participate in this harebrained scheme, but also someone who had never met Mon-El. She and Lena had met at a press conference when Kara had cornered Lena in a hallway and been tased by Lena’s security guards.

Lena had been less than pleased with their actions and had offered Kara a one-on-one interview, and it’d been off to the races from there. It was nice to have a new, different kind of friend - Lena was rich, too smart for her own good, and indulged Kara more than others might advise. Case in point: they are sitting on a bench outside Jacksonville International at midnight.

“I’m starving,” Kara laments, digging through her bag in the hopes that she’ll unearth something.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to call a chauffeur?” Lena asks.

“No, the cab should be here soon,” Kara sighs. “I’m sorry for this mess, Lena. I know this probably isn’t how you like to travel.”

“I don’t mind,” Lena shrugs. “Flights get delayed whether they’re private or not, and it’s not as though commercial domestic first class is terrible. I think you’re overestimating my need for fancy things.”

“Tell that to your Balenciaga sweatshirt,” Kara says. Lena smacks at her lazily. She’s so pretty, is the thing. Kara could have gone out and got a real girlfriend, or asked someone Mon-El hadn’t known well, but when she’d settled down a few weeks ago and convinced herself to go through with her nonsensical lie, Lena had been the only option in her mind. She’d been the only option she even wanted to consider.

“Is that them?” Lena asks, nodding as a bright orange cab pulls up. Kara jumps up excitedly - and then stalls as the driver climbs out of the car and comes sprinting around the hood directly at her.

“Kara!” Mon-El yells.

“Frick,” Kara mutters as he pulls her into a hug. She looks over at Lena with wide eyes and makes sure to enunciate: “Mon-El, it’s so good to see you!”

She watches as Lena raises one eyebrow and then sighs loudly with an incredible amount of boredom. It distracts Mon-El enough that Kara can withdraw from his cloying hug. He’s sweating. It’s gross.

“Hi, you must be Kara’s girlfriend!” he says enthusiastically. Lena shuffles closer to Kara’s side until she can grip Kara’s whole elbow in her fingers in a vaguely possessive way. 

“Yes, this is Lena,” Kara says, nearly swallowing her tongue. She and Lena are not really touchy, which is not how Kara would prefer it, but Lena is sometimes shy and unsure and one time Kara had hugged her in greeting and Lena had almost cried, so Kara’s been taking it slow. This is the fourth time they’ve touched with this amount of intention today alone. It’s a new record. Maybe Jacksonville wouldn’t be so bad. 

“Nice to meet you, I’m Mon-El,” he grins, looking happy. “Just making a little extra cash before the big day this Sunday. Did you guys just get in?”

“Yeah,” Kara says, grabbing Lena’s suitcase as well as her own and starting to wheel them over to the curb. Mon-El had always hated when she did things that were, per his understanding of the world, things the guy does, which she had on rare occasions found sweet.

It doesn’t matter now, because Kara is swiftly and decisively entering Lena Luthor girlfriend mode. And that includes putting the suitcases in the back of the cab, despite the fact that Lena’s is tagged overweight and nearly breaks her wrist.

When she turns back after shutting the trunk, Lena is smiling at her, and Kara is pretty sure that Jacksonville might really be alright. She takes Lena Luthor girlfriend mode a step further, opening the passenger side door for Lena and waiting gallantly for her to slide in before closing it. 

Mon-El looks giddy when they meet face-to-face at the driver’s side. He points subtly down at the cab and goes, “Dude. Hell yeah.” And then he raises up his hand for a high-five.

When Mon-El hadn’t been the most infuriating boyfriend possible, Kara had liked him. This was one of the reasons why. She smacks her palm into his and then slides into the car, smiling probably dopily over at Lena, who smiles back before digging into her leather tote purse thing and extends, out of nowhere, a fortune cookie.

“I think this is from when we got Chinese last week,” Lena says, shrugging. “If you’re still hungry.”

“I am so hungry, you are the best,” Kara gasps. Lena laughs at her as she pulls the package open and the cab pulls away from the curb. When she cracks it in half, she shoves half of it in her mouth and unfurls the paper. She laughs at what she reads. “It is time you ask that special someone on a date.”

She watches as Lena’s cheeks go a little pink in the lights beginning to whiz by. She’s pretty.

“Oh, Mr. Fortune Cookie, Kara’s already there,” Mon-El says. Lena laughs quietly. Kara reaches out to grasp her hand where it’s clutched in the supple leather of her bag, initiating their fifth consequential touch of the day. Lena looks at her for a long second before she moves to lace their fingers together. 

Jacksonville is gonna be so good. She can feel it.

[princesseilish]

NOBODY GETS ME

Paige bueckers x Singer!Reader

Warnings: Heavy angst, breakup aftermath, unresolved feelings, social media speculation, slow burn.

Synopsis: heavily based of “Nobody gets me” by SZA, because we love her, i know i do

Paige wasn’t sure why she even still checked. Muscle memory, probably.

She’d deleted every trace of Y/n from her social media. Unfollowed, untagged, erased. That should’ve been enough. That should’ve been closure. But somehow, against all logic, her thumb still hovered over Y/n’s name when she searched it up, heart sinking at the absence of the “Follow” button.

Gone.

That was the point.

And yet, no matter how many times she told herself she was over it, over her, the world wasn’t done shoving reminders in her face.

Y/n had been on tour for three weeks now. A massive success, sold-out venues, screaming fans—everywhere Paige turned, there was another clip, another article, another moment she tried to ignore.

But nothing hit harder than the song.

Nobody Gets Me.

The first time she heard about it, Azzi was the one who showed her. Of course it was Azzi.

They were in the locker room after practice, cooling down from a brutal session, when her best friend plopped down beside her, phone already in hand.

“Dude,” Azzi started, like she was trying to keep her voice casual, but Paige knew better. “You seen this yet?”

Paige barely spared the screen a glance. “Don’t care.”

“Yeah, you do.”

Azzi pressed play before she could stop it, and suddenly, Y/n’s voice filled the space between them.

“i don’t want to see you with anyone but me,”

Paige’s stomach twisted.

The video showed Y/n standing center stage, bathed in soft lighting, her fingers wrapped around a microphone. She looked different—hollow in a way that wasn’t just the stage design. Her eyes were closed, brows furrowed like the words physically hurt coming out.

“Nobody gets me like you”

Paige inhaled sharply, forcing herself to look away, but it was too late. The damage was done.

The crowd in the video sang the words back to her ex, voices full of emotion, but all Paige could focus on was the way Y/n’s voice cracked on the final chorus. The way she turned away from the mic for half a second, as if she was breaking right there in front of them all.

Azzi’s phone screen dimmed, but the silence between them stretched.

Paige clenched her jaw, shoving her water bottle back into her bag. “It’s just a song.”

Azzi hummed. “Sure.”

Paige tried not to think about it. Really, she did.

But it was impossible when the whole world seemed obsessed with connecting the dots for her.

“Y/n’s new song… definitely about her ex. But WHO??”

“Okay but be fr, Nobody Gets Me SCREAMS Paige Bueckers.”

“They were together for YEARS and just broke up. This song HURTS.”

Paige could ignore Twitter. She could ignore the fan edits, the TikToks, the thousands of comments dissecting every lyric.

But she couldn’t ignore the way it made her feel.

Because if she was being honest—painfully, brutally honest—Y/n was right.

Nobody did get her like Y/n.

Nobody understood the pressure she carried, the way basketball wasn’t just a game to her—it was everything. Nobody had been there from the start, back when she was just a kid with big dreams and shaky hands.

Nobody knew what it was like to fall asleep tangled together in the middle of winter, or to sit in the nosebleeds of an empty arena after a loss because Paige didn’t want to go home yet.

Nobody knew how Y/n used to trace circles on the inside of her wrist when she was anxious.

Nobody knew that Paige still reached for a body that wasn’t there when she woke up in the middle of the night.

So yeah.

She wasn’t stupid. She knew exactly who the song was about.

And that was the problem.

Y/n knew what she was doing.

She knew from the moment she stepped onto that stage, from the second she let the first note slip past her lips.

She knew when she whispered, “This one’s personal,” into the mic before the first verse.

She knew.

And so did Paige.

That was the point.

Paige sat on her couch, wrapped in the dim glow of the streetlights filtering through her cracked blinds. The city outside felt like a constant hum, a reminder that nothing ever stopped, even though it felt like her whole world had.

She hadn’t expected this. Not today. But the number flashing on her screen was all too familiar.

3 AM.

Y/n.

She wasn’t sure why it had taken so long for the message to come through. So much time had passed since their breakup, and now here Y/n was again, calling her at an ungodly hour like it was the only time they could have a conversation that wasn’t filled with too many memories.

Her thumb hovered over the green button for a long moment, thoughts swirling in her head. She should ignore it. She shouldn’t even think about picking up. The last thing she needed was another conversation full of words they couldn’t take back. But that was always the thing about Y/n, wasn’t it? Even when she shouldn’t, even when it hurt, Paige still wanted to hear her voice.

She pressed the button.

“Hello?” Paige’s voice was hoarse, thicker than she meant it to be. She felt the weight of the past couple of months sitting on her chest.

“Paige…” The sound of Y/n’s voice, soft and unsure, made the space between them feel endless. “I—uh, I didn’t know who else to call.”

That was nothing new. Y/n had always been the one who knew exactly how to find Paige when she was at her lowest, when things felt unfixable.

But this wasn’t the same.

“I’m not… I’m not sure what you want from me,” Paige replied, not angry, just tired. “I thought we agreed this was it.”

“Yeah. I know,” Y/n whispered. “But this song—”

Paige clenched her jaw. She already knew where this was going. The song. Nobody Gets Me. The one that had followed her through every city on tour, through every game, through every article written about her and Y/n.

“You don’t get to play that card now,” Paige bit out, the anger bubbling just beneath the surface. She regretted the words the moment they left her lips, but it didn’t change how she felt. “You can’t just come back into my life whenever you want because you wrote a song about me. You left.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Paige could hear Y/n breathing, slow and measured. “I didn’t mean to leave you,” she said quietly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know you didn’t,” Paige muttered. “But you still did.”

The silence between them felt like a void, a space neither of them knew how to fill anymore.

“I’ve been reading what people are saying…” Y/n started, hesitating, as if she didn’t want to continue. “They know it’s about you.”

“Great,” Paige said flatly. “Everyone’s got something to say about it, huh?”

Y/n laughed, but it was soft, almost bitter. “I don’t care about what they think, Pa—I mean, Paige.” She stumbled over her words like it hurt. “I didn’t do it for them. I did it for you. I don’t know how else to say this, but… I’m sorry for how everything ended. I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t even know if it can be fixed.”

Paige closed her eyes, the exhaustion of everything weighing her down. “I don’t know either,” she whispered. “I don’t even know if I want it fixed.”

Y/n let out a shaky breath. “I didn’t want to be the one to walk away, but I couldn’t stay either. I couldn’t be what you needed anymore.”

Paige could feel the tension in her chest tighten. So this is what it was, then. This is how they would end. With nothing left but the words that were said too late.

“You were always what I needed,” Paige said softly, before she even realized she had said it aloud. She cleared her throat. “It’s just not the same anymore.”

Y/n didn’t respond at first, and the silence felt heavy. She could hear the faint hum of a car passing outside, the far-off sounds of the city that never truly slept.

“I didn’t want to leave,” Y/n finally said. “But I couldn’t stay in something that was breaking me, too.”

Paige swallowed, the lump in her throat thick. “You should’ve told me that. I would’ve understood. But you didn’t. You just… disappeared. And now I’m left here, not knowing what happened. Not knowing where we went wrong.”

The honesty in Y/n’s voice hit like a punch to the gut. “I didn’t know how to say it.”

And just like that, the door they had slammed shut months ago creaked open again, just a little.

“I don’t want this to be over,” Y/n continued, and it was like the words were a plea. “I don’t want it to feel like… like we’re strangers.”

The vulnerability in her voice cracked through the anger and the hurt, and for the first time in a long time, Paige wasn’t sure what she wanted anymore.

She didn’t know if she could go back, if they could really make it work. But hearing Y/n’s voice, hearing the pain, the regret, made her feel like there was a possibility that maybe they could find their way through this mess, no matter how long it took.

“I don’t know how to start over with you, Y/n,” Paige said softly. “But I guess… I guess I don’t want to lose you either.”

Another long silence stretched between them. Neither of them knew what came next.

“I’ll see you when I see you,” Y/n whispered, her voice thick, breaking just slightly as if she was trying to hold back the tears she couldn’t let fall.

And with that, the line went quiet.

Paige stared at her phone in the dark, her heart pounding in her chest.

They were far from any kind of resolution, but for the first time in months, she wasn’t sure if that was a bad thing.

[ithinkicantdie]

I'll put a little bit of text here that felt too long to put in the tags but I know it doesn't really matter that much to other people what I think so I won't force myself to make any of the words I'm putting down make sense.

First point I wanted to make in the tags I started writing out was that I don’t think "girls' girl" should be included in this list because it’s a newer variation of the term "women supporting women" which I very much prefer as a positive counterpart in order to replace others like the extremely widely used "pick me girl" or just "pick me" because I think it is more important to celebrate the solidarity rather than use shame to point out when someone’s internalized misogyny is being a little too external.

"Girl math" as a term could be replaced with a different term for the logic that people are putting behind it but most of the posts are about consumerism and spending money so any far-left leaning people who identify with communism, socialism or just anti-capitalism (ily all, keep fighting for change) likely wouldn't use terms like that anyway so there wouldn't be much of a point. I do genuinely think we can let that whole trend go with just the superficial analysis of "people are trying to justify spending money by saying they aren't actually spending as much as they could be" but we could also go further into why we are made to feel shame for buying superfluous things or why we have to use the money we need to live in order to be happy and being happy when you're trying to stay alive feels impossible but the shame of spending money on things that make you happy compounds on top of that.

I associate bimbocore with Chrissy Chlapecka the most and she is very unapologetic about the bimbo videos to my knowledge because they make a lot of anti fascist posts but there are some problems she has to deal with due to being an influencer with low self esteem and rarely posting to social media at all without a full face of makeup while not wanting to encourage other people to also be that way. I also think the general public are trying to move away from saying things like whore and slut and skank because social media is all about being aesthetically pleasing and it's not about how much of a whore you are on the inside but how much of a bimbo you look or act like on the outside. The connotations of bimbo do point out how often sensuality and intelligence are thought of as at odds with one another in women but thought of as being found together very often in men and you could make an argument that women are being strong-armed into once again giving up when it comes to trying to be respected and revered for their personal accomplishments and they are actively being told to revert back to striving for superficial beauty standards to reach any amount of success. I could dive into that for hours honestly.

"Girlfriend brain" in the contexts I've seen it in (used in posts by normal people and not the 'stay at home girlfriend' influencers who scare me) is very similar to the whole trend of having "scary dog privileges" where you’re able to walk around without fear of getting harassed because men who don’t see you as a person will see your boyfriend as a person and you will not be as debilitatingly anxious about your personal safety in a public space. These trends alone can point out a lot of problems with how we are expected to "solve" problems by temporarily making it safer for only one individual at a time and not dismantling the culture that makes men feel entitled to women as a whole.

"Girl dinner" I think is heavily related to diet culture with people either purposefully eating less food to restrict the number of calories or eating junk food in the privacy of their own home without fear of backlash or judgement but it could even be fatigue of constantly cooking for other people because you have that expectation placed on you and you find brief respite in not wanting to cook for ‘just’ yourself but all of those options are insanely depressing no matter what. The expectation to be a sexy twig that eats nothing but also cook hearty meals for those around you to enjoy at any given moment is too exhausting and people break away from that where they can but also not every person participating in a viral trend is required to be actively experiencing any of the shame that the audience could be projecting onto them from personal experiences so does it really help at all or does it just hurt more people?

I do genuinely think clean girl core and DFE are heavily associated with white supremacist shit so I will not defend those at all, I think I've even seen some people call DFE a nazi tradwife dogwhistle so I'll just put that out there for other people to think on because I do not want to touch that with a ten foot pole.

And other people understand the whole "I’m just a girl" thing just fine obviously based off of most of the notes. Thank you No Doubt for providing such a banger that is infinitely better than the way people are abusing the phrase now.

"I'm just a girl", "girl math", "girl dinner", "divine feminine energy", "bimbocore", "clean girl", "girl's girl", "girlfriend brain" SHUT UPPP!!! SHUTT THE FUCKKKK UPPPPPP !!!!

[writingwisterias]

I had this random idea that came to mind - how would the different eras Leon act around reader's parents. like I imagine him meeting them for the first time and they're the stereotype old overly sweet parents that like to show pics of reader as a kid, making so so many questions about marriage and kids and future plans in general, embarassing them sm 😭 i have a feeling that especially with re2r Leon it would be so cute and funny

OMG! I'm so happy you asked for this because I was originally going to do Leon meeting the parents for the first time but I got so many requests! Ily for this

Also I'm so sorry it's out late I've just been working on some personal oneshots but now working through the requests!!

Warnings: insecurities, Fluff, themes of self doubt

AFAB!Fem!Reader

RE2:

When meeting your parents for the first time he sort of shy

He doesn't really talk much unless asked questions and it's not until a few times visiting your house that he actually interacts with them

I feel like he would have the relationship with your dad where he just gets dragged to help out and do things

He doesn't care though, it gets on his good side

Polite enough to help your mom clean up after dinner too

I think he would get flustered over topics of the future because he's still in that puppy love phase.

He does think about it but admitting aloud that he does makes him all giddy

RE4R:

Think's way too much in his head about what to say to your parents and how to interact with them

He's forming a whole as script and checklist making sure to tick all of them

Feels more comfortable around your mum but really stresses out internally on making sure he proves to your dad that he's actually worthy of your love.

In terms of chats about the future I feel like he has them in his head already, so when they bring it up it's a subject that he can talk about and doesn't wait for you to divert the subject

By that it's obvious that he can't say what his job is so when they originally asked he allowed you to explain it briefly.

Infinite Darkness:

He hides his stress a lot better and doesn't have a hard time sliding in your family dynamic because of his humour

They love him because he's respectful, funny and kind

He loves it when your mum brings out the photo albums

Asks if he can take some home just so he can look at them and picture what your children would be like

Helps out your dad with the car all the time, offers to do any odd jobs for him as well

He enjoys feeling useful

He would get flustered when he actually admits he has thought about the future with you only because he glances at you and sees the heart eyes you give him

Damnation:

Despite his more miserable look he manages to surprise your parents and they are quick to admit they have misjudged him

They don't get to see him often because he's always being dragged somewhere by his job

So when they do they have prepared a big meal for the both of you

Leon spends this time bonding with your dad working the BBQ and you get your mum talking about how cute you are together

The conversation carries to the evening when they offer for the both of you to stay the night and they bring out the albums

She even declares that she's got one ready for all the future photos of grandkids and your wedding

That makes Leon choke on his drink in surprise they even think about that for you

RE6:

Comes across as very confident but on the inside he's panicking about saying the wrong thing

Knows nothing about sports but pretends for your dad if there's a game on, will just watch him carefully and match his vibe if they do or don't score.

All the answers in his head are planned out in fear he will say something that seems cringey or too annoying

Gets along with your dad really well very quickly

After any event or meal with them he has long naps because he's so mentally tired from thinking about everything he is doing

You have caught him and your dad napping on the sofa and armchair at the same time.

Vendetta:

They can tell that things are bothering him and trusts that the two of you can work it out together

He hides it well to give him credit but towards the evening like always his mood will falter

Your parents don't judge him of course, from the little bits of information they have about his path they offer their support

It's almost weird to him to have parents that are so loving and care about not only you but him like a son

Appreciates them but can never really express it right

For events like christmas or thanksgiving he tries his best to be happy and present but they understand he needs a break

It's like a silent acceptance of them knowing he's a great guy just going through bad things so they opt to just be a place of comfort and let him relax with you here.

Death Island:

He is a dick if you end up sleeping in your childhood bedroom

Teases you with your dad all the time

Loves it when your mum brings out the photo albums! He's looking through them all

He will openly talk about his plans for the future and keep them in the loop about any updates in your life

He texts/calls them more than you at this point

If they want something from you they just ask you through him because they know he'll reply

Plays board games with them all the time, and helps with anything they need around the house like he does with you at home.

[thebramblewood]

As storytellers, realism and continuity are important to us, and they're sometimes hard to achieve within the confines of the game. I’m personally a big fan of posing Sims in open doorways, and unless you want to be limited to the CC options that exist, you’re stuck having to make some poor Sim walk in and out and pausing at just the right moment for the desired effect. But it’s actually very easy to edit a door in Blender to make your own open version!

I initially learned about "posing" objects from surelysims' Wicked Whims posing tutorial, which I highly recommend as a whole. However, it might be a little overwhelming to learn a whole new posing system for the sake of a screenshot or two, which is where this tutorial is meant to come in. Some of my explanations might seem overly simplistic, but I wanted it to be approachable even for beginners. I am far from an authority on using Blender or making CC, and I'm sure there are flaws in this process or easier ways to achieve certain things, but it works well enough for my purposes and I hope it will work for yours too. 💗

Now, onto the tutorial...

Figure out what door or gate you want to create an open version of. If it’s from the vanilla game, all you need to do is make note of its name. If it’s CC, find the package in your mods folder, make a copy, and paste it into My Documents > Sims 4 Studio > Mods. This will allow you to find it in S4S in the next step!

Open S4S. On the main screen, make sure “Standalone Recolor” is checked under the “Object” button, then click the button.

A new window should pop up (if it’s your first time doing this, it may take a while to load). At first, it will show every single object in the game. If you know the name of the object you’re looking for, you can use the search bar to find it. You can also use the filtering options to narrow the selection down by category, game pack, and whether it’s vanilla or custom content. Here, I’ve filtered the search to only base game doors. Once I find the door I want to adjust, I click on it and hit “Next.”

This will pop up a window prompting you to save a new file. Place it somewhere you know you’ll be able to find it easily later and name it accordingly. This file will ultimately contain your mesh edit, so you don’t want to lose it! I suggest placing it in a dedicated folder, on your desktop, or in your Mods folder directly.

On the next screen, you’ll be looking at the contents of the package itself. For this tutorial, you don’t need to worry about grabbing anything but the mesh. Click on the “Meshes” tab and then “Export Mesh.” You’ll again be prompted to save.

Open the mesh file you just saved in Blender. (If the view is funky to start, I recommend hitting 1 on your keyboard’s number pad to get a forward-facing view.) [It should also be noted I’m using Blender 3.6, so my screenshots and the location of certain settings may be different than in earlier or newer versions.]

You’ll see that there are actually multiple meshes involved (and the number can vary from object to object). Right now, we’re only concerned with the “rig.” If you’re familiar with posing, you’ll know that all Sims have a rig that is used to move different parts of their bodies around. Objects also have a rig, and objects that can open will have “bones” that control their moving parts. So click on “rig” and then change “Object Mode” in the bottom corner to “Pose Mode.”

Now, if you hit A on the keyboard, it will select all bones and you can see where they’re located. As far as I can tell, all doors have two bones that control their swinging movement. They both do essentially the same thing. I tend to stick with the top bone, which is called something like “bind_doorSwing.”

Pro-tip: If you’re having trouble seeing or selecting the rig's bones, you can change the view on the right side of the screen to “dope sheet.” Then when you save the position of the bones, just like when posing a Sim, by selecting all with A then clicking I and selecting “Location & Rotation,” the list of available bones will pop up there.

Rotate the door open using this bone or bones, if it’s a double door. On double doors, I recommend rotating each side individually rather than trying to rotate them together, as you may get unexpected results. You can use the R+Z combo on the keyboard to limit the direction of movement. (You can also use this in combo with numbers to swing them more precisely. For example, if you want a 45 degree swing, you can press R+Z+45.) Specifying the Z axis allows you to only swing the doors open and closed while restricting their movement in other directions.

Once you’ve got the doors swung open to where you want them, hit A to select all bones, then hit I and select “Location & Rotation” to save the position. (If you’re a poser, this maneuver is already familiar to you - and you know how important it is! If you skip it, the new position won’t save and the doors will revert back to closed.)

That’s it! You don’t have to do anything else to the mesh. Save your file in Blender. If you want to keep it separate from the original door mesh, save as instead and name it something different. (This is why you may want a dedicated folder, since the number of files does add up!)

Reopen the package you made earlier in S4S (or simply return to it if you’ve kept it open). From the same place you exported the mesh, you will now import the edited mesh. Hit “Import Mesh,” navigate to your edited Blender file, and you should now see your edited door replace the original. Since it’s the same mesh, all the swatches will still work perfectly with it.

You’ll notice that you’ve only replaced the “LOD 0 (High)” version of the mesh. When you click the drop-down menu, you’ll see that there are also medium and low detail versions, as well as shadow meshes at all levels of detail. If you’re only making an object for personal use, you don’t have to worry too much about LODs. You can probably just import the same mesh into LOD 1 and LOD 2 and be fine (so long as your computer isn't a potato). And if this is just for you, I honestly wouldn't even touch the shadow LODs.

The only other thing you might do is go back to the “Catalog” tab and alter the object name so you can find it easily in the game catalog. You can also edit the description, price, etc. if you so desire. Hit “Save.”

Test in game! If the package isn’t already in your Mods folder, move it there. As long as you didn’t mess with any of the tags, it should still be in the door section of build mode and work perfectly as a functional door. The door swinging animation will look different, and you could probably get rid of it if you wanted, but that’s above my current skill level and I don’t think it’s really necessary for our purposes. If all you need is an open version of a very specific door for storytelling purposes, it gets the job done.

(First screenshot: doors swung open as intended, second screenshot: doors swinging in the opposite direction as they’re walked through)

These steps can also potentially be used to create open versions of other in-game objects like gates, books, chests/boxes, etc. I’m only just beginning to experiment with minor mesh edits, but once you get the hang of it they can often be faster and easier than trying to line up the best circumstances to get the perfect shot in-game. I might make more tutorials for small edits like this that help with storytelling realism and continuity in the future!

[batarangaroo]

Punishment ideas

(From my daddy and from least to most embarrassing, as rated by me)

Rating scale: 1-2 sound like fun, 3-4 sound fun and blushy, 5-6 are embarrassing but doable, 7-8 are deffffinitely punishments, 9-10 are incredibly humiliating

Drinking water and holding game in public

1/10 - defffffinitely want to try this. Though I’ll regret it as soon as I really have to pee like I always do. 

Panties under diaper

2/10 - hehehe it kinda sounds fun, I wanna try! Daddy says because of that it’s not punishment enough though

Daddy wets Roo’s diaper while she has it on 

3/10 - So I don’t know if I’d like it, and I know for sure it would be embarrassing and a good punishment and make me feel super little… but I like the idea. 

Forced baby time (Roo is sat down at the TV and has to watch baby shows for a few hours and then get put down for a nap)

3/10 - the shows would be sooooo boring (which I guess is the point) but I love when Daddy forces me to nap even if I don’t wanna. I always feel better after.

Carseat (or sitting in the backseat)

4/10 - anything with a harness I’m really into, so this is no different. But I’d hate being in the backseat away from my daddy. I’d be so sad.

Forced bedwetting

4/10 - I put up a huge fuss about this last time, but honestly… I kinda liked it🫠 

BUT I don’t like having to do laundry because I have to wash my waterproof mattress cover in front of my roommates and it’s crinkly🥺

Take a picture of Roo’s wet diaper and post it to Tumblr to embarrass her. Or send it to some abdl friends ;)

4.5/10 - This is really super embarrassing, but I kinda also like my daddy showing me off… especially to abdl friends

Write a Tumblr post about you did wrong and read it out loud to Daddy

5/10 - the writing is fun, but the reading aloud is so freaking blushy! Especially when I have to say it really quiet cuz my roommates are home

Really girly outfit (pink and purple)

5/10 - 😳 it’s not my viiiibe, it’s too babyishhhhh

Spankings?

5/10 - I don’t like leaving marks from spanking or too hard or using any instruments other than your hand. But you putting me over your lap would be embarrassing and I’d learn my lesson.

Locking mittens for a day 

6/10 - it’s so vulnerable🥺 I like it but asking Daddy for literally everything would be hard for me

Nighttime diapers in public

6/10 - fuck, Daddy, they’re so hard to disguise :(

Roo has to bring a big bag full of her diapers and diaper supplies to class or around her friends 

6/10 - Roo doesn’t have to do that, fuck! No! What if they look?!

Kids menu at a restaurant

6/10 - IN-PERSON?! YOU’D ASK FOR ONE FOR ME? AGHHHHHHHH

Locking diaper cover, where she has to be in it until she soaks her pants

6/10 - and it might be higher. Till I soak my PANTS?????? Fuck.

Baby talk only for a day (no words, only baby babbling)

6/10 - this is also so vulnerable, I have to rely on my daddy for everything! It’s good practice I guess but soooooo embarrassing and little and agh

Daddy feeds her baby food for a day

7/10 - grossssssssss ew I don’t wanna... I like the idea of Daddy feeding me, though.

Make her wet her pants in class or a public place (enough to leave a wet spot but not a puddle… if she can control it)

7/10 - um what if I can’t stop🥺

Cloth diapers and plastic pants

7/10 - sounds a little like a sensory nightmare and beyond embarrassing looking

Using a training potty for a day 

7/10 - the whole day? I don’t even wanna use it at all!!

Child harness or leash

7/10 - still a good level of embarrassment, but sooooooo demeaning and little. Definitely only in the house. This is on the level of light puppy play for me.

Make her leave a babyish item where here roommates could see it (baby powder, wipes, diaper rash cream, etc.)

4/10 for baby powder or wipes, because those are explainable, BUT

7/10 for DIAPER CREAM BECAUSE OH MY GOD NO

Making her wear a crop top and baggy pants (that might show her diaper in public)

8/10 - THAT IS SO MEAN HOW DARE YOU. I don’t want people to see my crinkly waistband🥺

Embarrassing items (buying her a diaper genie, changing mat, rattles or baby toys, like little blocks, chew toys, things like that).

8/10 for the diaper genie, FUCKing no! How do I explain it? No! 

2/10 for the others, those sound like fun and I love stuff I can put in my mouth. Not a rattle, though, that’s embarrassing

Many many double/quadruple diapers in public

9/10 - Absolutely the fuck not! Jesus christ! Waddling in public????????? You’re gonna let everyone know I’m in diapers

Messy diaper

9/10 - UGH ACK NOOOO that’s so embarrassing no no no

Pooping with daddy present in the bathroom

9/10 - Aghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh no! What the heck! I can’t even think about this 

Diaper enema on changing table (or suppository)

10/10 - Hey! Fucking no! Nope. How do I look at you ever again? What the heck?

Babysitter with abdl Mommy

11/10 - WHAT THE HECK. Nooooooooooooo, just my daddy can see me🥺 Down the road I might be more okay with this, but that would be so humiliating

[veronicascreenwriter]

An amazing catch for a pro, if you think about it.

I miss seeing pay phones and having that convenience in case of an emergency, but I have had serious OCD since I was just a little girl. Both, a blessing and a curse.

Think about what these kids would do today, if cellphones didn’t exist.

I would say computers, the internet, home video games and cellphones were the beginning of our downfall.

The kids today have no idea what it feels like to receive an old fashioned letter in the mail, the anticipation of it all and the patience you had to have, just waiting to receive sincere words from a close friend, pen-pal or family member.

This guy was holding a long conversation on that pay phone, clearly. Who was on the other end? It must have been someone he loved, thus how relaxed he is sitting. And at 55, I recall when a pay phone was still 10 cents, and an operator would answer, you’d give her the number and say “collect call” or “person-to-person” if it was going to be a long call and you didn’t have 2 extra dollars in coins to slap into the phone to pay for it.

I miss hearing live phone operators.

I can still hear the sounds of the phone, the dial tone, the little ring when you dropped the coin into the phone closing the door of a glass phone booth just to have a bit of privacy.

I was born in 1970.

I am so glad to have been around well before the internet or cellphones - when we sat with family or friends to eat supper together, waiting for our prime time TV shows every week, unable to “binge watch” shows like anyone can do now.

So much to be said here - not enough room.

This photo doesn’t look like a whole lot at first glance - but for those of us who are 50 plus - I think they will see the beauty in it like I do.

It brought back bittersweet, yet fond memories of simpler times, however chaotic, however awkward or abusive the past may have seemed - I would rather go back to these times - than live in a world of zero emotions, no one caring, zero respect toward each other over simple differences of opinion.

I am truly disgusted by the world today and regardless of family or friends still here today. I can’t wait to get off this shit show of a planet, even though I still see beauty, I still hold a shred of hope for humanity - I don’t know nor believe I will ever see those I truly loved since they’ve died - but one can still hope, right?

I appreciated living when I did - have no idea if it will be nothing but blackness or perhaps a new life somewhere in the Universe of Multiverses, enjoying a new time period. Who knows, it that which I did not appreciate growing up… is now hanging on by a thread in my ailing mind.

They say memories are all we have left - but I have watched even memories ripped away from loving family members with photographic memories. And then they were just a shell, overnight due to Alzheimer’s/dementia and other brain diseases.

So do not rely on memories, write everything you can down now and as often as possible for the future to see and learn from.

Don’t let the new world, take History away from us.

All of these thoughts - from a photo.

- VJV Feb 19th, 2025 (10:02 am)

1982

Photo: Bill Wunsch/The Denver Post

[dinkerr]

Velvet & Chrome.

summary: rockstar vi meets playboy model reader at a club.

warnings: rockstar vi and model reader, public sex, oral sex, fingering, mentions of alcohol, the smut in this is really lazy, this is heavily inspired on pamela anderson and tommy lee, that's literally it i think??

1994 los angeles. famous rockstar guitarist violet lane had found herself two shots in the middle of a club with blaring lights and techno music filling her senses. she was unremarkable in the most distinguished way- no one would ever get past her without seeing her satiny reddish pink hair, tattoos and an immense amount of silver jewellery and piercings. she was pure eye candy, with her fanbase the opposite.

her eyes are trained on you dancing with a few of your friends and it's leaving her mind lost in a blurry haze. you haven't even fucking properly looked at her yet and you're driving her into oblivion, a state of mind she hasn't had the unfortunate of experiencing since she was a teenager. she swears she's seen you before, because your euphoria is too distinctive in a way she can't put her finger on.

she shouldn’t be doing this, sitting at the bar and staring at you like you're the first pretty girl her eyes have been blessed with. she could be doing anything right now, ordering another shot, hooking up with any and every girl that wants her, or just leaving this club to find a new one and start over all her progress.

she feels like a creep, but the voice in the back of her head is telling herself that she's just curious about you. and how you carry yourself. and the outfit you're wearing. and your tits. and you're fucking approaching in her direction. she panics the way she does when powders spending too much time on her eyeshadow before a show, tearing her eyes away from you and to behind the bar to gather her composure.

"can i get-" she started to one of the many bartenders in close proximity to her, though cuts herself off at the sound of another voice also ordering a drink. she turns her head to give them a "what the fuck" look on her face, though her furrowed eyebrows shoot up ever so slightly with her heart shaped lips parted the same when she realises it's you, her words caught in her throat when you gesture with your hand for her to go first.

"a. beer. thanks." fuck. a beer? you sit on the creaky stool next to hers, the cushioning a darker shade of red than hers. you both watch as said bartender walks off to retrieve the beer she ordered, though her head turns to look at you again before yours does the same.

she recognises you now.

"you're that model chick. right?" she asked, her eyes roaming over your figure, attempting a quick and subtle nod to greet you as she looks you over with as much casualness as she can fake. which, unfortunately, isn't that much. it's okay. she's never had any problem getting a bitch on her lap.

"i am." you respond, propping your elbow on the bar counter and resting the side of your face on the palm of your hand. your voice sounds like honey, there's no fucking way you're a real person. you look like you're sex appeal on legs, a little bit of tease, a whole lot of trouble. she wants to know the taste of you on her tounge, and if this were a porno, she'd already have you against the counter.

there's silence between the two of you- a considerable difference to every sound in the club around you. "i can give you an autograph or-" "no." she cuts you off this time, neither of you tearing your gaze away from eachother, even when the beer she ordered two minutes ago is placed in front of her with a small thud against the hard oak. "do you wanna share a cigarette?" is what came past her lips next, and she's mentally cursing at herself for suggesting a cigarette like a young teen with their best friend trying smoking for the first time.

you furrow your eyebrows at the ask. request. demand. you couldn't tell. you glance back over to your friends dancing, then back to her, knowint that they'd be more than well on their own without you for a little bit. she notices it, taking it as a sign to attempt to gain her composure (but failing at it, like before) by sliding off her stool to stand up, her hand reaching to grab yours and she's practically pulled you off to follow her toward the bathroom.

you follow her with no hesitation whatsoever, your eyes flicking between her hair, her leather jacket and eventually the furthest stall door in the bathroom, following her in and watching as she closes the door and locks it. she's turning back to you, your hands pulling her closer by the waistband of her jeans and she's leaning in to kiss you, her hands on you like a wild animal, grabbing your hips to pull your body flush against yours. she feels herself getting wet in her boxers at your nails scraping at her lower abdomen, lazily fiddling with her studded belt.

"you're pretty." you murmur against her lips, beginning to unbuckle said belt. "can i eat you out?" she immediately asks after you've finished your words, pulling away ever so slightly to look into your eyes. you're so pretty in ways she's never seen in another person, and she knows that she'll never be able to forget snd erase your face from her mind.

your lips curl up into a small smile at her ask, softly kissing the corner of her mouth and trailing them down toward her jaw. "i don't even know your name."

you don't even know her name. you don't even know who she is. "it's vi." she murmurs, her hands moving from your hips to hold both sides of your face so she can tilt it to kiss you again, feeling the contrast of her cold rings against your red cheeks, the next few words coming from her are almost a low whisper, "can i eat you out now?"

you're nodding one moment and the next she's on her knees with her fingers hooking under the waistband of your underwear, her eyes trained on your dripping pussy like a puppy with a bone. she started to softly kiss your inner thighs, her running to the back of one of your thighs to put it over her shoulder.

her eyes look up at you when she kisses your clit, enjoying the way your eyebrows furrow at the action before she's licking up your pussy, trying to taste every bit of your arousal on her tongue. you bring your hand down to run through her pretty hair and tug at it in attempt to bring her closer, moaning at the way she's lapping at your cunt like a dog.

you breathe out into the air, remembering where you are and biting down on your bottom lip so it's not obvious to everyone that there's a girl you don't even know who has her face buried into your pussy, though it's hard with the way she switches to wrap her lips around your clit to suck on it, the tip of her nose and chin covered in your arousal. "fuck. vi." you mumble under your breath, your pussy clenching around nothing like it's just begging to have something fill it up, and she absolutely loses it at the sound of you calling her name.

she listens, bringing her fingers to drag up and down your pussy before she finger fucks you, nibbling at your clit and pumping them in and out in sync with how your chest is rising up at down. you're trying your hardest not to scream and you're almost embarrassed that you're being like this, in a bathroom stall with a girl you hardly know, but that doesn't stop the way you're mouth is open, your back is arching off the wall and you're cumming against her fingers and tongue like clockwork. she fingers you through it, fingers pulling out of your pussy so she can lap up your cum. she pulls away, her lower face covered in your cum while she's looking up at you. "can i get your house number, pretty girl?"

you hear your phone ringing early in the morning a few days later, quickly walking through your house to answer.

"hi." she says over the phone, her voice sounding sadder than you ever thought you'd hear from her. "you haven't been answering my calls."

"i know, i'm sorry i ditched you. going to cancun for work." you explained.

"without me?"

"you can't come. it's for my work."

"i'll see you there. my and my buddies will find you." she spoke, and you realise who she is now. you're stuck with her.

[randomshyperson]

hello!! I hope you are well. May I add a request to the “touch ask” game? Wanda-Touch-25? Please and thank you. Maybe as a continuation of Wanda and Kryptonian reader?This pairing of my new favourite and you write it so beautifully.

thanks for everything!

Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Drabbles

prompt: stroking the other's arm soothingly | words: 1123 | warnings: fluff, violence (?), previously agreed mind control, some touching but nothing inappropriate (the Avengers would disagree ofc).

-&- 

Kryptonians had indestructible and invulnerable bodies. They were bulletproof, heatproof, or coldproof. You could probably out-strength gods like Thor or radioactive monsters like the Hulk.

But magic? Well, that was different.

Somehow, magic could break through every biological barrier in your body and bring you to your knees.

That was precisely why Natasha Romanoff always had Wanda as your training partner.

"Come on, guys, no slacking off. I want four sequences, everyone." The widow announced with a warning clap, while the entire team groaned in unison. Even the super soldiers present had some difficulty completing the demanding exercises of a black widow. 

You were moving to grab your training gloves for the exercise circuit when Natasha called your name. "Not so fast, little alien. You and Maximoff, mat." 

Wanda smiled contentedly at the same time you sighed in discouragement, just as the team got excited and started whistling. See, you were indestructible. Watching you get your ass kicked every now and then was everyone's favorite pastime there. Ignoring Natasha's smirk as you passed her, you tried to stay positive about the whole thing. At least you were working on your humility with your favorite person in the world. 

"I'll go easy on you." Wanda assured you, already on the mat, hands in a fighting position. You chuckle, imitating her defensive stance, even though it wouldn't make any difference. 

"As if."

Truth be told, you're the one who always goes easy on her. Wanda has the magical advantage, of course, but that's it. If you wanted, you could use your speed to easily immobilize her. But the risk of hurting her small human body - a caution you don't need to take with fellow gods or augmented beings - is too high.

So the most you can guarantee to make her training difficult is to dodge her energy attacks, until she loses her patience and stops acting like a sniper, and starts acting like a real witch.

You stumble gently as you feel the familiar invasion. It's like being intoxicated. Wanda is always gentle when she does this. She's learned to hone her mind control very well, without having to reduce her opponents to babbling versions of pure panic. Now, she can enchant them like a mermaid, or perhaps, she only chooses to do it this way with you.

The gym around you becomes a little blurry, and all you see clearly is her, smiling victoriously at you.

"Ready to call it a defeat? Or do you want me to kick your ass a little longer?" She teases as she takes slow steps towards you. It's an illusion, of course, you're sure she hasn't even moved a muscle in reality, and all of this shouldn't have taken more than a second.

You chuckle weakly. This kind of thing has been getting more and more dangerous. Keeping secrets from someone who occasionally plays with your mind is very difficult. Wanda taught you to stay calm in these situations, but all you can do is remind yourself that you're keeping your feelings buried, away from her, and you start to despair.

She notices your anxiety, and the confidence disappears from her expression.

"Hey, are you alright?" She asks, maybe this time, her footsteps towards you were real. You're panicked enough that you can't tell the difference.

Freaking out during a mind control is stupid. And even worse for someone who has powers like yours. Wanda gets close enough to touch your face, and you remember last week when you accidentally saw too much skin when she changed clothes in your room. The shame and guilt return, and you pull away, terrified that she will be able to see that memory.

Your panic in that vulnerable state stimulates your powers, and Wanda exclaims in surprise when the beam of your heat vision advances and grazes near her head. Her fright interrupts the magic, and your release is immediate when Wanda hits your shoulder with a strong magical expel, which throws you about three steps back.

Natasha crosses her arms in disapproval and all the Avengers are looking at you two, while a new hole in the ceiling of the academy appears.

"What the hell you two! What did I tell you about mind tricks?" The black Widow inquires in disapproval, but Wanda is rushing to your support, concern on her features.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

You interrupt her with "I'm fine, don't worry" forcing a small smile. As you try to lift your torso correctly and raise your arm to touch her, you groan in pain and Wanda's eyes widen, as does the whole team. At the feeling, you end up chuckling a little breathlessly. "Wow, that's... surprising. Looks like you set a new record here, Wands. First person to make me feel muscle pain." The team laughs at the joke, but Wanda isn't very happy about it. Natasha forgets about the scolding because she's too interested in discussing with Steve the progress of the two of you in training, and well, you get too distracted with Wanda caressing your arms in an attempt to ease the pain. 

"Is it really that bad?" She asks with a worried frown. She must be feeling guilty enough not to realize what she's doing - how she’s touching you.

You try not to be so pathetic, it's an innocent gesture, but maybe it's too gentle or too warm to ignore. She strokes your arms soothingly, trying to apologize while murmuring that she's sorry for hitting you. And it only takes a moment longer for Wanda to get distracted with what she was doing - Not that you have any way of knowing that she's starting to notice the strong Kryptonian anatomy a little too much, and how feeling strong arms was the real reason she sighed and shook her head, pushing away thoughts she definitely shouldn't be having about her best friend.

Sharing the same warm pink in her cheeks as you, her hands moved away, and Wanda cleared her throat, trying to hide her own reactions while you hid yours.

"So... do you want to get something to eat? I'm starving."

She chuckles shortly. "You're always starving, darling." She teases, and well, she's right so you can't even argue.

Distracted by each other's presence, you soon lose yourself in small talk as you head toward the kitchen, and neither of you notices Sam or Clint grimacing at the scene they've just witnessed.

"That has to be the gayest thing I've ever seen in my entire life." The falcon grumbled in disbelief.

The hawk next to him massaged his forehead in a frown. "I should have retired already. I would have been less traumatized."

They shake their heads in unison, and then go back to training.

[theliteraryarchitect]

I don’t know if u still answer questions but I need some advice. My passion has always been writing simply because I have so many ideas and so many thoughts and I love creating stories (theoretically). Lately though I’ve hit this roadblock. I’ll never be able to write like the people I admire, because at the end of it all I feel like I’m not learning. I’ll reread my old stuff, point out and rework my mistakes, and still feel like I’m not going anywhere. I haven’t written anything for years because of this block and I feel like I’ll never improve and find the motivation to keep writing. I’ll never be like the greats with seemingly endless inspiration and talent. Ig my question is just… how do I improve? How do I finally feel satisfied with what I do? How do I love my writing again??

First off, I hear you. So many writers—especially the ones who care deeply—go through exactly this. You love storytelling in theory, but when it comes to writing, it feels like you’re stuck in a cycle of self-doubt and disappointment. That’s not a personal failing. That’s just what happens when your standards grow faster than your skills.

The mistake most writers make (and one I see repeated constantly) is thinking that learning = immediate improvement—as if you study the craft, tweak some mistakes, and suddenly level up. But writing doesn’t work like a skill tree in a video game. It’s messy, non-linear, and full of invisible growth. The work you put in today might not show results for months, or even years. And that’s frustrating as hell, but it’s also normal.

And the writers you admire? The ones who seem endlessly inspired and effortlessly talented? They aren’t immune to this feeling. The difference is, they write through it. They let themselves write badly. They embrace inefficiency. They trust that even their worst drafts are part of the process. AND (top secret info here)... frankly a lot of the big names have editors at their publishing houses that are practically doing ghostwriting work: fixing their mistakes, rewriting their stuff, or even composing sections for them so they can pump out the next bestseller in record time.

But here’s my advice: stop waiting to feel satisfied before you start writing again. You’re not going to think your way out of this. Improvement comes from doing. Let yourself write terribly, inconsistently, joyfully. Take the pressure off. And when your brain tells you it’s pointless, remind yourself: the only way to get better is to keep going.

You don’t need to be “one of the greats.” You just need to write.

Hope this helps, friend.

P.S. I get Asks like this so much that I'm actually working on a whole long book about it, since it's really more than I can handle in a short post. Stay tuned for details. xo

[this-user-is-new]

"proceeds to complain that i want the show to engage with the long-term consequences of piltover’s actions." how is that spoon-feeding? i mean yeah, imagine expecting a show that presents itself as a mature, political narrative to actually follow through on the themes it sets up. wild concept.

oh, and "gassy"? wtf? whatever. let’s entertain this "fantasy gas" idea for a second.

there’s literally no reason to assume it behaves any differently from real-world toxic gases. arcane itself establishes that the gas behaves like a real toxic substance when it comes to how it destroys the body (kiramman archives). so why would it suddenly not behave like real gas when it comes to spreading? you can’t have it both ways. either the show deliberately left out consequences for narrative convenience, or this is straight-up inconsistent writing. i’ll let you pick one. but i won’t waste time on this again since you’ve already decided the laws of chemistry just don’t apply here anyway.

also, we know children work in the factories of the chem-barons. why do you think isha and other kids were running from the chem-barons' goons? what did they want from them, huh? meaning, yes, kids would have been exposed to the gas at some point. (... even if they weren't there at the moment.) because that's literally where the gas was used. but again, that'd mean you actually understand how gas works so ... yeah. i'm not talking about this again.

and no one’s saying caitlyn and her team intentionally targeted children, the issue is that the show erases unintended consequences, making piltover’s actions seem cleaner than they realistically would be. learn how to fucking read. also, funny how you keep bringing this whole thing back to caitlyn specifically, like this is just some personal attack on your fave instead of a broader critique of how arcane rewrites piltover’s crimes to be more palatable. but do you actually like her? because if anything, this also makes her villain arc boring as hell. you should want to see the consequences of her actions.

"they never erased piltover’s guilt." lmao. really? so viktor’s suffering getting reframed as a personal failure instead of systemic neglect isn’t erasure? orianna’s story being stripped of its direct critique of piltover’s pollution isn’t erasure? the show giving just enough plausible deniability for fans like you to defend piltover’s actions isn’t erasure? be serious.

your focus on viktor’s leg is just a lazy attempt to reframe his struggle. his arc was never just about mobility, it was about survival. we literally see him suffering from chronic illness: fatigue, nosebleeds, coughing fits, and even slipping into a coma. he wasn’t just looking for a "fix" out of some internalized ableism, he was dying because piltover let zaunites rot. the "beauty in imperfection" framing is a deliberate rewrite that removes piltover’s guilt. it’s not just a misinterpretation of viktor’s motivations, it’s a calculated shift to make it seem like he should’ve just accepted his fate instead of demanding more from a system that abandoned him.

"singed’s daughter wasn’t dead, she was dying." you missed the point. orianna was a direct victim of piltover’s pollution. arcane stripped that context away so piltover wouldn’t be at fault. and you’re fine with that because it lets you pretend it wasn’t deliberate.

this isn’t just about individual changes, it’s a pattern. i was asking you about that.

"the seeds were there, you’re just a bad gardener." nah, the writers just ripped the roots out. so yeah, i’ll keep pointing out how arcane carefully sidesteps piltover’s worst atrocities while you keep pretending that’s nuance instead of narrative sanitization. keep dancing around my points, though. anyway, i’m not wasting my time responding again if you’re just going to misrepresent what i’m saying over and over.

has anyone else noticed that the writers were absolutely reluctant to fully commit to the darker implications of piltover's actions? like the gas attack on zaun? but tbh the writers' self-sabotaging of arcane's potential as social commentary is not what's really frustrating, it's that it's not just a missed opportunity, it’s a deliberate avoidance. the writers couldn't make piltover that bad, at least not through the characters we have to follow.

with the gas attack, what we get are scattered hints: a single man coughing, kids praying to janna in a song (in a way that’s super easy to miss), and worship of a painting of janna. but the show never fully depicts the suffering caused by the gas. it never commits to the atrocity and by refusing to depict the actual impact, the show softens piltover’s culpability and allows a big part of the audience to either overlook or justify it.

but the gas attack aside, the writers had two opportunities to make an explicit statement about systemic oppression, environmental racism, and the true cost of unchecked industrial power but they avoided doing so. and those two clearest instances of this avoidance are in how the show handles viktor and orianna:

in season 2, viktor’s story is literally warped to avoid blaming piltover. viktor, a character who should represent the suffering zaunites endure because of piltover’s neglect, is instead pushed into the role of an irredeemable villain for a marvelesque shit show. his transformation discards his humanity so blatantly that the audience is distracted from the actual injustice: he was dying because of piltover.

his ending is framed around jayce’s “beauty in imperfection” speech as if he should have just accepted his disability rather than seeking a cure, when the reality is, he wasn’t just disabled, he was dying because of the system piltover built. that was his entire struggle in season 1, but by season 2’s end, the narrative no longer engages with it to protect piltover.

as for orianna, she is reduced to an easter egg as a gift to league of legends fans (which is funny because the show ruined her lore for them), but more importantly, to avoid critiquing piltover.

her lore was an explicit condemnation of piltover’s disregard for zaunite lives. she was a little girl who helped zaunites, got sick due to piltover’s pollution, and had to slowly replace her own body with machinery until she lost all humanity. but arcane erases this. she’s barely a cameo, and the audience isn’t even told how she died. the show doesn’t just sideline her suffering, it removes it entirely, sanitizing piltover’s guilt in the process.

more importantly, all of this lets a big part of the audience defend piltover. for instance, by never showing the gas’s impact, the show gives certain viewers the option to ignore it: no bodies, no long-term sickness, no undeniable, inescapable horror. and i'm sure we've all seen how this allows for interpretations that justify piltover’s actions in the fandom, whether that means erasing the gas attack’s consequences or framing it as acceptable because the victims are zaunites (who are often conveniently portrayed as violent criminals).

also, ekko’s line about rescuing more people because of gang fighting is a perfect example of how the show subtly misdirects the audience. yes, gang violence is an issue, but it’s not the only crisis. the gas remains, it spreads, it poisons the people, especially the children working in factories. those are also people the firelights must have rescued. but the show chooses to highlight one crisis over another, and we know why ...

anyway, it's sad that the writers had no balls. they let so many people feel comfortable not thinking too hard about piltover’s crimes, and comfortable enough to insult anyone who criticizes characters participating in those crimes, especially caitlyn and her squad.

[asmolfolk]

Lilia Vanrouge; "Army Dreamers".

ਈՉ࣪﹑Lilia x Reader.﹗ִ❀ ᘏTW: Death.﹗ִ❀ ᘏGenre: Angst/Comfort (?)﹗ִ❀

It's mostly just an idea vomitting idea tbh? I'm listening to this song on repeat so... Yeah. The only thing that I think it's important to know: The only appearence related thing mentioned was your eyes in a very vague way.

Imagine being the one and only person he would let go with him to anywhere. The one who had left a mark on him... A troublesome fellow, someone he wouldn't dare to let himself fall for... However, when you are all he can think about, all he can search for... It takes another whole act to try to put together. You, who keep reencarnating, with him, who keept searching for you.

When Lilia first met you, he was a ‘Teen Fae’. It was a bit after the first human-fae war, you were one of the humans that decided to move to Briar Valley to escape the hatred from other humans.  He could never understand how could a being be so hateful towards their own... But he supposed it was never about logics at all. 

 You were... Bright. Brighter than the sun and stars together, brighter than fire magic and any candle... You would make him give you some smiles, sometimes. You always said how you wanted to be a singer, to show the world the songs you wrote – you dreamed about being in something that [nowadays] would be close to a rockstar. You would tell him all about your dreams, show him your songs, showing him your big plans... 

 But oh. You never had the money for that, have you? 

 Supporting your family, trying to keep your house and managing a bakery, all in your own. You were exhausting yourself and it didn’t matter anything that Lilia said, you never stopped. You were always bubbling about needing to help someone. 

 You were naive, trusted that the world would give the effort you put on others back to you. You naively thought that you didn’t need to rush. 

 And then it happened, the first death that he saw ever since he had met you. It was a normal day, a normal day that he decided to let you wander off as he bought an instrument for you. It was supposed to be a surprise, but your body was on the ground [dead] 

 You were killed and he didn’t know who did it. 

 The second time, he didn’t even realize it was you. He felt a flick around you but didn’t act on it. He kept his distance around you, you were – again a human. You would often try to talk with fairies on the woods, he never answered your calls.  Again, too naive. Maybe it was because you were just a teen trying to fit in. It didn’t take too long before you were attacked, this time, he knew who did it [By accident] but what an unfortunate event. 

 He left flowers in your grave, never once letting them die... After a year or so, he stopped coming by your grave. He told himself that he couldn't keep doing this. 

Then the third came. You were a dreamer, once more, wanting to be a politician. You constantly talked to yourself as you sat on the same damn forest your last reincarnation was killed. You used to write about new rules you would do. 

You didn’t care what role in royalty, you just wanted to help make everything be nice and smooth. 

   About how things would change once you got power. Oh, how unfortunate – You never had the education for that. Never. 

He could see it in your dreamy eyes, there was no thought behind those eyes – nothing but simply the need to make the world a better place. Your blabbering was sweet but... Was nothing at the same time. Promises can’t make deals and, just like that, you kept dreaming. 

And dreaming. 

And dreaming. 

...And dreaming. 

Until you couldn’t awake no more. 

He was present in every life you were in. He was a mentor, a crush, the guy that you kept yapping about... Just the love of your soul, wasn’t him? 

 You were the most different looking – the kind of ‘Cinderella’ story. He didn’t interact much with you either, he just let you go when you wanted to. Didn’t held you, didn’t think about you – it was better this way. 

Another war had begun after all, he couldn’t be thinking about you – about what it could be. 

This time, however. Things were... Too different. You were one of the... Politicians, seems like you realized the dream you once had, hm? You were the frontline, trying your best to be the strongest of all.   Your King, the one who made you one of his ‘negotiators’, made you go in a mission... An almost suicidal one. 

Lilia didn’t want to look soft to his soldiers when you appeared. You always looked gorgeous, he always would notice who you were [your eyes, the windows of your soul always showed him exactly who you were.] and it wasn’t different here. 

He knew you weren’t there to actually help, you were in a mission. But he indulged you, not only for himself but to get information. He didn’t expect, however, to be able to just... Change your way of thinking. 

Maybe it was the way he managed to ‘humanize’ the faes, making them seem like people in your eyes. The same eyes who, once looked at him with hate, now were full of... Pity, somehow.   You started questioning everything they teached you about.   Everything. 

And you stayed with him. You became his – in more ways than one – and neither him nor you did ever want to let it go. His soldiers recognized you as ‘the almighty’, the only one who managed to make Lilia go soft.   It was amazing.   Maybe... Just maybe, finally you would have a happy ending? Together with your beloved? 

It was one mistake. 

One tiny mistake. 

But he should know at this point, any mistake can take your life away from him. 

You died again, a betrayal that he wasn’t able to see. 

But a betrayal that made his hatred go deeper. 

Letting the fire burn the village, the traitor, everything that could be burned to the ground. 

He had it all... And he lost. 

Maybe that was his mistake, trying to be yours. Trying to make your life revolve around him, he thought for a second... What if you never met him? 

.

.

.

Your other lives never knew who he was. Well, of course, they knew he was General Lilia Vanrouge but never knew who was Lilia. The Lilia who always heard your talks, who fought for you, who would do anything it takes for you.   They lived, survived and died without meeting the very man they were waiting to meet. 

As he grew older, he couldn’t help but think about his earlier mindsets. Taking care of Malleus changed him, in more ways than one, and he – as selfish as he was – wanted you again. He always did, don’t get him wrong. 

But now, NOW, he knows that he could do it. 

He knows that – finally – he could be the man you need. One who already knows the tricks, who will protect you, save you from your constant deaths... One that can give you a happy ever after. 

But he never found you again. Nothing. He could find information about your old past lives, you were a Preacher, a Teacher, died too soon or were simply... Living as much as you could. He tried his best to try to find more, but he could only find those four. 

He tried to hide his constant searching from Silver and Malleus, but that simply wasn’t possible. 

Silver was intelligent, always were. He could easily notice when his father was being too much, his eyes would always look directly at Lilia – seeing him holding the paintings that he managed to steal get of you. In some way, you became a sort of altar for Silver. 

He would pour his feelings while looking at your pictures, asking questions, receiving no answers. 

Maybe the universe was trying to give a sign. Because as soon as the NRC would start, Silver was with your picture the day before. 

“You know... I always thought... How would be to meet you? If you are as bright as in some paintings, as serious as in others or... If you are just a new you.” He looked at the painting once more “Father missed you... I know he does. You were never there when I was born but... I miss you too... parent.” 

Maybe it was the tears, maybe it was the feeling of something he never had but COULD that have made him so... Emotional. He couldn’t control his tears; he tried to not let his tears on the painting [it had a safety glass at least] but he couldn’t help but lament. 

And then, there you were. The magicless student, as beautiful as the day Lilia had lost you, as beautiful as the paintings Silver saw. 

Oh. You were up to some fun things now, aren’t you prefect? 

[hardly-an-escape]

just a little something for Tommy Kinard Appreciation Day and @peppermintquartz <3

A few weeks after they get back together, Tommy comes over to the loft for dinner. It's nothing fancy, no special occasion – Evan's got a new roasted chicken recipe and they both have the night off, so Tommy shows up around 6:00 with a bottle of wine and a slightly nicer-than-average shirt.

He's rummaging around in a kitchen drawer, looking for some matches or something to light the candles on the dining table, when he finds the notebook. It's one of those composition books with the classic black and white cover, the miniature version, a little beat up. He probably shouldn't read it – scratch that, he definitely shouldn't read it – but.

It's labeled with his name.

Tommy, right on the cover, in Evan's handwriting.

He glances over his shoulder. Evan has his back turned, fussing with the salad dressing and not particularly paying attention, so Tommy palms the little notebook and wanders over to the living room to open it.

The first page has a single sentence: Things I Miss about him. After that it turns into a list.

His eyes

the way his face scrunches up when he smiles for real

his hands

His ass! And his dick!!!

I feel like I shouldnt write that but it's true!!

Tommy swallows hard. Evan's handwriting is kind of uneven and hard to read, and his spelling and punctuation aren't the best – but it's undoubtedly a list, all lined up with neat little bullet points, of the things he'd missed about Tommy while they'd been apart.

His hugs

especialy the way he used to press our cheeks together and hang on just a little longer then I was expecting him too

He's such a good firefighter and so expereinced, I always felt like I couldve learned alot from him

the competency in general... hes so good at so many things!

he could be so bitchy/sarcastic but he's actually so kind. Like his jokes were never mean

Really good with kids

he would be an amazing dad someday

The last item is barely legible, thoroughly scratched out, as though Evan had thought twice about it the moment he'd written it down. Tommy feels tears prick behind his eyes. Evan would make a fantastic father, he thinks. They haven't really talked about it – marriage, kids, the whole nine yards. Before, it had been too early, and now that they're together again... it still feels too new, too raw, to bring it up. But Evan's the first person who's ever made Tommy want to have that conversation. He flips to the next page.

I don't want it to sound like I was only with him for sex but god I miss his body so much

Tommy snorts. He's so absorbed he doesn't hear Evan call out from the kitchen.

"What was that, babe?"

He took such good care of me. like when I hurt my shoulder but also just in general. He checked in with me alot and always made sure I was ok

really good listener

Did I take care of him enough? did I listen to him enough?

I think maybe I didn't

"Hey, Tommy, did you – oh," Evan says, poking his head around the stairs. "Uh. You found that."

"I'm sorry," Tommy says immediately. "I shouldn't have looked at it, I just – it had my name on it," he finishes lamely.

"It's okay," Evan says, coming to sit next to him on the couch. "It's just a little embarrassing. I didn't really know what to do with myself, I had a lot to say and, uh, people got kind of sick of me talking about you after a while. So I started writing it down. I kind of forgot it was still floating around."

The thing is, over the past couple of weeks they've talked about those last two items on the list. Tommy's been honest about the fact that he'd felt, at times, that he was being more careful with Evan than Evan was being with him. About the fact that he'd been okay with that, until he wasn't; that he'd been okay in the role of fun, sexy first boyfriend, until he realized that not only were he and Evan not on the same page, they weren't even reading the same book.

It's different to see the words written out so plainly. But they're on the same page now. They're walking into the same future, hand in hand.

Tommy sets the little notebook aside and laces his fingers together with Evan's.

"I love you a lot, you know," he says. It's not the first time he's said it, but it still feels so special it's a little unreal.

"I love you, too," Evan says instantly, beaming, eyes twinkling.