#These are important conversations to have

[dear-ao3]

so. as you may know it’s christmas eve. as you probably don’t know i am eastern european. and probably the only real tradition anyone holds onto is christmas eve. normally my great aunt does all the food and very begrudgingly sometimes lets everyone help make like. one thing.

well.

this year. the year of our lord two thousand and twenty four. she decided she was done cooking and it was up to everyone else.

so i got a phone call from my mom a few weeks ago being like hey so. you’re making the cake. got it? good.

the cake in question is a walnut cake. i was entrusted with my great aunts recipe about seven years ago. i’ve made it twice. the first time i fucked up the frosting quantity. the second time i fucked up the eggs. both times were passable at best and notably! my great aunt did not taste either of them.

and i have to make this cake. on christmas eve. it is dessert. for everyone. my extended family will all be eating the cake. the walnut cake. on christmas eve. even my great aunt.

so yesterday, december 23 if you are counting, i went on the annual Last Minute Christmas Food Shopping Trip with my father, watched him climb into the case to get his half and half like he does every year, and stressed about my cake as i made sure i had all of the ingredients.

then. we went to my great aunts house. where i was met with Trial Number 1: The Cognac

this cake has cognac in the frosting. not a big deal really. except for the fact that my mom hates that there is cognac in the frosting. (my mom is hell bent on making christmas eve dinner vaguely healthier. no one else agrees.) and i was to be making the cake in my moms house.

also important to note: we (as in my parents) do not own cognac. mostly because none of us drink.

so my great aunt is like oh i have to give you the cognac. cause she knows. i am baking the cake. the walnut cake. (my dad told her. he is a traitor). and i say okay. sure. this won’t be a problem at all.

so she gives me. a shot of cognac. and when i say a shot. i mean an Entirely Full Shot Glass of Three Hundred Dollar Cognac. in a jar. for the cake. the walnut cake. that i have to make.

upon bringing the cognac home my mom says no we’re not putting that in. the cognac sits on the counter in its jar. no one touches it.

then i was met with Trial Number 2: The Frosting.

this recipe requires a pound of chopped walnuts. first. i couldn’t even find the walnuts. my sister and i searched high and low and in every cabinet we could find but no nuts. i called my mom. and said mom where are the walnuts? and she said. “they’re in the nut bag behind the basement door.”

oh of course. how could i have missed the nut bag? a holiday bag full of bags of nuts that was half hidden by wrapping paper and also behind a door?

in any case. could i have used a food processor? absolutely. did i? no. half because i forgot and half because i didn’t want to accidentally grind the walnuts into a paste. so i enlisted the help of my younger sister to chop the walnuts By Hand while i embarked on the real devil: the frosting.

which remember. is supposed to have cognac.

so i cream my butter. i add my sugar. i’m careful not to over sugar. i taste it a million times. i add my coffee and my vanilla extract (instead of cognac. which is still sitting on the counter) and it was all going so well until. the butter rebelled.

now remember. one time when i made this. seven years ago. i made too little frosting. so i made more this time. and i thought i had all my conversions right but evidently i did not because suddenly there was too much liquid in my frosting and it split.

the frosting for the walnut cake that everyone was going to eat. on christmas eve. the very next day.

i felt like a contestant on great british bake-off getting smited by the tent.

so i did the logical thing and shoved the whole mess into the fridge hoping that it would sort itself out overnight.

then it was time to face Trial Number Three: The Cake Itself.

as i have said this cake is a walnut cake. the christmas eve walnut cake that has been at christmas eve longer than i have been alive. and it requires no less than ten egg whites. which i whipped and i added to my walnuts and shoved the whole thing into the oven in my two baking dishes.

only to discover no less than 40 minutes later that the batter in the pans was Not Even (despite my best efforts). so i cooked one longer than the other and hoped that i hadn’t monumentally fucked up the walnut cake. like i had the frosting. which was in the fridge. and i was ignoring.

which leads to Trial Number Four: The Egg Yolk Cake

see i had ten egg yolks. i didn’t know what to do with them. my mom said flush them. my dad said make a custard. i proposed making egg nog. my mom said she didn’t want it in the house cause it was too fattening (a blatantly incorrect statement. please, if you are reading this, go drink a glass of eggnog. or some other fun festive drink. food is for the soul.) so i produced a recipe for an egg yolk pound cake. i made it. i still don’t know if it came out good cause i haven’t tasted it. i hope it did. but that was not the point. the point is the walnut cake. the christmas eve walnut cake.

and the following morning i was met with Trial Number Five: The Frosting Part 2

first i threw my failed frosting back in the mixer and it immediately secreted a brackish combination of vanilla extract and coffee so i did the only thing i could. facetimed my dad and said “father there are problems abound.” and he gave me the fatherly advice of “make it again.”

and so i did.

with more correct measurements. still scared it would split at any second.

though it didn’t.

and i didn’t add the cognac.

maybe no one will be able to tell???

my mom said that if anyone asks the first batch of frosting failed and i had to toss it. this is technically true.

but i had frosting. i had two uneven cakes. and it was time for Trial Number Six: Decorating

decorating cakes is easily in my top ten least favorite activities. decorating the christmas eve walnut cake is easily in my top three least favorite activities. because i am terrible at decorating cakes. and also because it has a filling.

the filling is jam. and i once again made the wrong choice because i put the jam on first before the frosting. which to be fair is what the directions say. but as everyone knows, the directions in recipes you get from your eastern european great aunt are not the real directions. so now i had to smear butter cream. on top of jam. for the filling of the walnut cake. for christmas eve. that we would be eating in a few hours.

and we didn’t have a cake plate. we had a large dish.

i had to use my fingers. i had to use three spatulas. i got jam everywhere. but i did it. and as soon as i set the top cake on top of the filling i realized my monumental mistake: i was supposed to trim down the cakes.

so now they were uneven. and lopsided. and there was nothing i, a mere mortal tasked with the impossible task of making christmas eve walnut cake, could do about it.

so i continued to spread my frosting. which i had enough of. and tried and failed to not get jam everywhere.

in the end it was almost presentable. not great. slightly lopsided. and definitely not as nice as any of my great aunts cakes.

which left me with Trial Number 7: Chilling It

our fridge was being taken up by other important christmas eve things (though not as important as my cake. the walnut cake) so i had to put it in the car. which was fine because there is snow on the ground.

i covered my cake. the walnut cake. in tin foil and hoped i wouldn’t accidentally squish it. and then i went outside. i tried to steal my moms shoes to walk outside. she was not impressed.

“you know, saph,” she said. “some of the time you’re pretty great. the other half of the time you’re really weird.”

i could not agree more.

i put my cake on the trunk. prayed to the cake gods and went inside.

on the one hand if the cake is good, i will be stuck making walnut cake for christmas eve for the rest of my life. on the other hand, if it sucks i will never have to make another one.

Trial Number Eight: The Tasting still waits.

[thoughtscout]

yes, here we go - another lovely example of a false binary. it's either "let everyone engage in whatever kind of sexual activity they want to, where they want to and when they want to, regardless of others' comfort or consent, the health of the overall culture surrounding these practices, any people harmed or exploited in the process, or any other consequences" - or, if you criticize or object to that, you're "denying" all positive human sexuality, "making everyone more repressed" and "sterilizing" people and making them miserable.

does it not naturally occur to people, that acknowledging that having sex or displaying an interest in/enjoyment of sex is not in any way morally negative, does not necessarily mean that... sex is a completely neutral subject? in fact, sex might be one of the most goddamn complex subjects on this godforsaken planet. people could discuss and debate it for millenia and not reach a sound conclusion.

and acknowledging that sex can be a positive thing for many does not automatically erase it as a profoundly, overwhelmingly, destructively negative force that currently plagues our humanity. there are dozens upon dozens of human issues in which sexuality is the central focus in which it explicitly causes harm. several of them were even implied within this very post (pornography, unlawfully distributed nude photographs, and the overall ethics of sex clubs are dubious at best).

the core detail that any conversation about this topic needs to be founded upon is that there is a very, very important distinction between stigmatizing sex and criticizing sex culture, or even just having complex or uncomfortable feelings about how other people practice display their sexualities. treating them as synonymous is utterly irrational and completely unhelpful to anything.

This sounds like a shitpost but people should be allowed to be horny. As in, sexuality is just part of life for most people and there’s no reason for consensual sexual behavior to be punished. A celebrity getting “caught” at a sex club shouldn’t be a scandal. No one should be fired for having a fetlife profile outside of work. Nudes getting leaked shouldn’t be career-ending. Denying and hiding (consensual) sexual interests doesn’t make anyone more professional, it just makes everyone more repressed. And sterilizing ourselves to be better work drones isn’t productive, it’s just creepy. I’d rather my surgeon get absolutely railed on camera and come to work in a good mood, frankly.

[honeytonedhottie]

decentering men and recentering urself⋆.ೃ࿔*:･💅🏽💓

the secret to decentering men and not having ur entire world revolving around them (bcuz it should be revolving around you, duh) is having a fulfilling life. it makes me ICK so bad when im watching a video or reading a post and im rly loving it, and then it'll find SOME way to make it revolve around men. like can we not?…💬🎀

WHY WE CENTER THE OPPOSITE SEX ;

a lot of people find themselves centering their lives around the opposite sex in an attempt to fill a void within themselves. they do it because they aren't happy with themselves or their lives, or maybe its learned behavior. whatever the reason is, its NOT hot.

some things that someone who centers men might think are "oh my life is so boring, maybe it would be spiced up if i got with a man" or "maybe it'll bring some excitement into my day" like EUGHHH. obviously the solution is to find ways to make our lives fulfilling but how do we do that? and how do we get to the root cause and squash this self sabotaging behavior?

SELF AWARENESS ;

if u have nothing going on for u, ofc ur gonna be energetically desperate and accepting anything and EVERYTHING. practice self awareness and try to get to the root cause of why u center men through things like shadow work, therapy, or just straight up having an honest conversation with urself cuz i swear it helps.

when you make the conscious effort to build ur dream life you'll notice that people that are on the same mindset as you will vibe with the REAL you. the need to fake/adjust urself to fit in with other people will dissipate because ur fitting into ur own standards and ur connections will be more meaningful because of it.

TAKE UR POWER BACK ;

no ones actions should ruin ur day or make u upset for more then a day (even less) cuz its YOUR world. 💕🍰

make time for YOU, doll. plan self care routines for urself every week. doing face masks, journalling, vision boarding, WHATEVER U LIKE TO DO. making time for urself reminds u that ur the main character of ur life so u dont have to settle for crumbs.

stop giving that power to someone else and dictate how u feel, NOT the actions of a significant other or the opposite sex or anybody. the reason why its important to make sure that ur the center of ur own life is so that you can be happy and fulfilled regardless of if there is a man or if there isnt a man present. so the objective is to decenter men -> and then put yourself at the center

GET A HOBBY ;

find something to make ur life fulfilling. pursue ur OWN interests and try out different hobbies if ur unsure of what ur interests are yet. cultivate ur world to the point where it GLEAMS with perfection and then do a little extra. build a life that u love so much that whether u get male attention or validation doesnt even matter cuz their opinions have little to no relevance 💀

challenge yourself: next time you catch yourself thinking, ‘would a guy like this?’ flip it and ask urself "hey, do i like this?" start checking with yourself first instead of checking with others.

MAKING THE DECISION TO DECENTER MEN ;

decentering men simply means that ur deciding to no longer think, feel, act, dress, or plan ur life around a man or for the validation of any man…💬🎀

relationships will actually get BETTER when u decenter the opposite sex. cuz ur not looking for someone to compete with and ur whole on ur own. this sets the stage for balance and mutual respect and THATS hot.

you can be in a relationship and still decenter men. decentering men simply means that you are the priority, not the relationship. how can we tell if we're decentering men or not? here are a few questions to help you know if u are ->

if i did not care about looking good to the opposite sex what would i actually like to wear?

if i did not get married, how could i create the best and most abundant life for myself?

what hobbies/interests do i have that dont involve being around men/have male attention as a component of it?

[lives-in-midgard]

My Home

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: After a mission Bucky and you have to stay at a hotel for the night. But when you wake up the next day you're snowed in and maybe can't make it home in time for Christmas.

Word Count: 850

Prompts: snowed in + “Home is not a place, at least not for me. You’re my home.”

From @buck-star Fluffy Winter Event

A/N: I wish all of you a Merry Christmas and happy holidays! I hope you like this 💗 🎄

Divider made by @ buck-star

Fluffy Winter Masterlist | Main Masterlist

It was late at night when you and Bucky were trying to find a hotel. You finished your mission a few hours ago and then went back to the safe house to pick up your stuff and were now walking through the streets of Budapest. As you walked through the streets, holding Bucky’s hand in one hand and your bag in the other, looking at the beautiful Christmas decorations and lights, you began to shiver. Bucky noticed and let go of your hand to take off his jacket. Then he smiled at you before he said.

“Here, take my jacket, doll. I don’t want you to get sick.”

“But then you will be cold.” You said and he shook his head.

“You’re more important.” You wanted to protest, but you knew that Bucky would give you his jacket anyway because he didn’t want you to be cold. So, you let him help you put his jacket on and then kissed your cheek softly.

“Thank you.” You whispered and he smiled at you.

“Let’s find a hotel room so we can snuggle up in bed.” Bucky said with a smile and took your hand again. You walked for a few more minutes and then finally found a hotel. When you walked into the hotel, you were greeted by a warm breeze and a friendly lady. When you went to the reception, Bucky took over the conversation and asked the lady for a room. Luckily, they had a room available for you to sleep in tonight. She gave you the key and then you went to your room with Bucky. The first thing you did after Bucky opened the door for you was to change into some different clothes. Then you jumped into the bed and got comfortable under the covers. Bucky chuckled and looked at you with a warm smile. Then he walked over to you, pulled the blanket aside and laid down next to you.

“Come here, I’ll warm you up, doll.” Bucky said, pulling you closer to him. You laid your head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you. You smiled softly as Bucky kissed your forehead.

“I’m so excited to go home tomorrow so we can celebrate Christmas together.” You said as you looked up at him.

“Me too.” Bucky said with a smile. You talked for a while about all the things you want to do on Christmas and how excited you are about the Avengers Christmas party that’s happening the next day. After a while, you must have fallen asleep because when you woke up, it was dark in the room and only a little light was coming through the curtains. You laid there for a few more minutes, enjoying Bucky’s loving embrace. After a while, Bucky woke up as well and kissed you.

“Good morning, doll.” Bucky whispered in a sleepy voice.

“Morning Bucky.” You said and gave him another kiss. After a few more minutes, you reached for your phone to see what time it was. Because if you want to be home for Christmas, you’d better catch a flight soon.

“I’ll check if there’s a plane going home soon.” You said and Bucky nodded. As you looked at the website, Bucky gave you a kiss on the forehead and got up from the bed.

“Oh, that’s weird.” You said and Bucky turned around.

“What doll?” Bucky asked curiously.

“It says here that there are no flights today.”

“Maybe Steve can pick us up with a Quinjet.” Bucky suggested and you nodded.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.” You said as Bucky walked to the window and pulled the curtains away.

“Oh, now I know why there are no flights today.” Bucky suddenly said.

“What, why?” You asked and as you looked over at Bucky, he pulled the curtains away so you could see what was going on outside. It had snowed a lot.

“Looks like we’re snowed in.” Bucky said and your smile started to fade. Bucky immediately noticed and walked over to you.

“But we should be home tomorrow…for Christmas.” You began to sniffle. You wanted to have a perfect Christmas with Bucky.

“Hey, sweetheart, don’t cry.” Bucky whispered as he sat down next to you and pulled you into a hug.

“But we wanted to celebrate Christmas at home.” You said as a tear rolled down your cheek. Bucky gently wiped it away with his thumb and then gave you a warm smile.

“We’re already home.” Bucky suddenly said.

“What?” You asked confused.

“Home is not a place, at least not for me. You’re my home.” You began to smile, and Bucky smiled back at you.

“I love you.” You said and then placed your hand on his cheek and kissed him.

“I love you too.” Bucky told you after the kiss.

“You’re right, we don’t need to be at home. The most important thing is that we’re together.” As you said that, Bucky began to smile.

“Well said, doll.” Bucky said and made you chuckle.

“How about we order some breakfast so we can have breakfast in bed?” Bucky asked.

“That sounds perfect.”

Taglist:

@marvelogic | @eviebuggg | @nicoline1998enilocin | @kandis-mom | @sergeantbarnessdoll | @noellez-best-life23 | @beaubbdoll | @sgtgarricks | @ratchildspartan | @scott-loki-barnes |  @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 |

@mrsbuckybarnes1917 | @brnesblogposts | @rogersbarber

[pforestsims]

✨🎁Sparkle Sparkle✨

Clothing recolors with shiny patterns require Extended SimStandardMaterial by @crispsandkerosene

⭐recolors of Platasp 4t2 Sentate Messina dress AF

based on snake skin texture by @sentate , plus mesh edit with my classic pumps /optional/ . Polycount: 4679. S4 original is here. /Dress conversion by @platinumaspiration came with lots of nice 4t2 recolors btw/.

⭐Hourglass Dress Separated AF plus recolors

& Hourglass Dress Short Classic Pumps AF (repo)

New meshes based on my shape edit of Celebrations SP wedding gown, with dress subset separate from skin - in 8 glittery shades. Polycount: 2049 & 2500.

⭐recolors of 4t2 Nell Disheveled Suit conv. by @kurimas

plus my mesh edit - minor fixes and TS2 'block' hands & added "fat" morph. Polycount: 6078. S4 original by @nell-le is here .

Download all: SFS | BOX

/updated 24.12.2024 - fixed morphs in HourglassDressSeparated/

And a little bonus:

⭐Sparkler accessory default

Download: SFS | BOX

This will replace original chunky mesh with the same one but made much thinner, and two textures used for spark effects with larger ones (48x384 px).

✨ ✨ ✨

I wish Everybody a Happy New Year!

✨ ✨ ✨

Recolor swatches and my notes on adding envcube masks to clothing under the cut:

*This is for The Sims 2

Recolor number 00 in each set contains envcube mask and is required by other recolors.

Metallic Messina dress recolors all use one envcube mask texture and one grey clothing texture, colors are added with TXMT settings only.

Same with dark shades of Disheveled suit - four recolors, only two textures.

Hourglass Dress Short mesh contains two shoe textures: black and beige, I've also included TXMT setting files ready to be imported into recolors, so you can easily swap those if you wish.

BTW I also included TXMT settings that you can merge with 4t2 Messina recolors converted by Platasp. This will add a snakeskin envcube/mask (from my recolor).

When adding shine to custom clothing, remember that shiny subset has to be separate from skin and that TXMT Type (cMaterialDefinition tab) has to be set to SimStandardMaterial !

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

Notes on recolouring clothes with envcubemask:

SimPe is required.

Here's a tutorial on adding shine to clothes - but the quickest way is to simply import TXMT settings with shine and mask from recolor that already has those, and edit texture names (& cMaterialDefinition TXMT type, if it's set to SimSkin).

Bodyshop breaks envcube masks - when you make a new recolor of shiny outfit it will turn the mask to transparent DXT3

borked texture has to be replaced with ExtRaw8bit texture, or you can remove it and link TXMT to envcube mask texture name from another package (stdMatEnvCubeMaskTextureName line). I recommend removing custom envcube texture that Bodyshop creates and using TS2 envcube (stdMatEnvCubeTextureName line).

I find that reflectionsilver-envcube is the best for neutral and colorized shiny patterns on clothing, unless you want bright gold shine - then reflectiongold-envcube works best, with stdMatEnvCubeCoef set to pure white.

Envcubes often used for objects, like reflectionsparking-envcube, will look quite mirror-y and dark in envcube blend mode.

stdMatEnvCubeMode: blend mode works best for medium / dark textures, while diffuseRadiance mode works best for light clothing textures. There's also standard Reflection mode, which is quite subtle, probably best if you'd like to make patches of clothing look like satin or plastic.

To achieve nice glitter / sparkle effect, Envcube mask has to be crisp, high contrast, black and white. Make sure you have 100% black on parts that are not supposed to be shiny.

stdMatEnvCubeCoef line is the reflection color / brightness. Envcubes have their own colors already, so your reflection color settings will be affected by it. Reflectionsilver-envcube texture is neutral with greyish-blue shadows, no dark spots.

Reflection with mask can be previewed in Bodyshop. Have in mind that reflections look quite bright when camera is in front of a Sim, but when you open the game and look at the same outfit at an angle, it won't be as bright.

In this vid you can see reflectionkitchenhighcontrast-envcube used for silver dress - looked great but when I put that dress on my Sim, and looked at it from above, reflections were barely visible.

[riverofmolecules]

i get where this post is coming from but i am going to be pedantic and disagree in that 'middle class' is not a term with one definite meaning. it is not an economically or sociologically defined term. it's often just a rhetorical device, like 'family values' or 'freedom'.

'middle class' as a contemporary, 20th to 21st century term is pretty american, exported globally. the 'house you bought, a nice car or two, the ability to support a family...' is as much an import of meaning as any other definition. (for example, i would consider what op describes to be solidly upper middle class and middle class has much less disposable income.)

things that can go into defining what is 'middle class' can include:

income - literally whether you are making within the middle 20/25/50/75% of the spread of incomes in your city/your state/your country. this is agnostic as to how well you can live withi that band

wealth - one contributor of financial security is the ability of your family (generational wealth) to stabilize or support you

culture - do you have middle class 'values'? do you speak the language of white middle class america? do you know the cultural touchstones, the customs? do you have the material culture? (conversely, do you lack the language of other

network and connections - do you know other people who are 'middle class'? can you move through them comfortably? can you call on them for favors? does knowing them help you interact with other socially?

do the above things have a tendency to self-reinforce and regulate? yeah, that's what class does.

i think what is pertinent and where i agree with the op though is whether and how the median relative to the upper limit has less and less economic security, so that those who would fit in the 'middle class' definitions above still are not secure. i think what is pertinent is that the dream of the middle class as a class is a way for people to disaffiliate from being working class. what op describes with people saying, 'i am getting by being able to afford my own apartment, so i'm middle class,' is the function of a middle class identity.

there was never a middle class, beyond like the emergence of the non-serf town-living class that didn't own enfeoffed land or titles in the late middle ages (literally the meaning of bourgeoisie).

Ive noticed recently that my generation has... no concept of what the various economic classes actually are anymore. I talk to my friends and they genuinely say things like "at least i can afford a middle class lifestyle with this job because i dont need a roommate for my one bedroom apartment" and its like... oughh

You guys, middle class doesnt mean "a stable enough rented roof over your head," it means "a house you bought, a nice car or two, the ability to support a family, and take days off and vacations every year with income to spare for retirement savings and rainy days." If all you have is a rented apartment without a roommate and a used car, you're lower class. That's lower class.

And i cant help but wonder if this is why you get kids on tumblr lumping in doctors and actors into their "eat the rich" rhetoric: economic amnesia has blinded you to what the class divides actually are. The real middle class lifestyle has become so unattainable within a system that relies upon its existence that theyve convinced you that those who can still reach it are the elites while your extreme couponing to afford your groceries is the new normal.

[wonderjanga]

I May be a Kid but I’m not a Kid Kid.

When Billy’s secret identity was revealed, he started getting treated like a little kid. It really annoys him whenever these guys try to baby him.

Supes: “Billy, uhm… we were wondering if you would like to be moved to the Teen Titans.”

Marvel: “What…?” *sounds absolutely horrified at the thought of that* “Why?”

Supes: “You’d around kids your age.”

Marvel: *stares and blinks rapidly* “Are you saying you’re gonna demote me to the Teen Titans of all things? No offense.”

Supes: “Billy, it’s not a demotion.”

Marvel: “But it is. I’ve been on this team for what? Four years- almost five. You guys are acting like my age automatically means I can’t be a good hero anymore.”

Supes: “We’re not saying that. We just think it’d be good if you were on a team of heroes around your age.”

Marvel: “But you are. You’re literally all but saying it. I like those kids but not enough to want to be on a team with them.” *doesn’t know if he’d like listening to Robin’s condescension in more than small doses* “I prefer you guys. We’re still friends, aren’t we?”

Supes: “Of course!” *happy Billy is still somewhat comfortable around them*

Marvel: “Good.” *smiles* “Besides, I do hang out with kids around my age. Mary and I are the same age while Junior’s a year older than us.”

Supes: “He’s the oldest?”

This conversation got them to back off about kicking him off the team. That didn’t stop them from poking their stupid adult noses into other parts of Billy’s heroics though.

Marvel: *helping someone at like 2am because he patrols as much as he can*

Supes: “Captain! Whatcha doing up this late, champ?”

Marvel: *makes a face that being called champ, but doesn’t say anything about it* “Uh… patrolling? *finishes helping the person*

Supes: “Patrolling? It’s a little late- er early for that. Isn’t it?”

Marvel: “I guess…? I still have a couple more hours.”

Supes: “Shouldn’t you be turning in earlier?”

Marvel: “No…?”

Supes: “Aren’t you tired though? Kids need plenty of sleep.”

Marvel: *a little irked at being called a kid but brushes it off* “Stamina of Atlas, remember?”

Supes: “Oh.” *silence* “Well, maybe you could still turn in earlier?”

Marvel: *looks around for any hidden cameras* “No.”

Supes: “Oh okay…” *doesn’t really want to seem controlling so he just sulks while flying back to Metropolis*

Don’t worry, Superman trying to give him a curfew isn’t the only thing a nosy adult tried to do.

Marvel: “Mr. Batman Sir? Are the new long term mission signs up sheets out yet?”

Batman: “Ah, yes.” *hands him the sign up tablet* “There are three new ones.”

Marvel: “Great! Any potential overlaps?”

Batman: “Only these two.” *points to two missions*

Marvel: “How long would these two last?” *points to one of the overlapping missions and the one that doesn’t overlap*

Batman: “Together would be about a month and a half or longer.”

Marvel: “Cool.” *is about to sign up for them*

Batman: *remembers school exists* “And school?”

Marvel: *pauses so he can look at Bruce confused* “What about it?”

Batman: “If you sign up for these, you’ll miss at least a month or two. You’d be stuck catching up.”

Marvel: *laughs* “You say that if I actually go to school.”

Batman: “You don’t?”

Marvel: “No.”

Batman: “I see.” *takes the tablet away before Billy can sign* “Well, you’ll go now then.”

Marvel: *thinks he’s joking* “What?”

Batman: “I’ll enroll you in a school in Fawcett.”

Marvel: *stares for a solid minute* “Mr. Batman Sir, you’re not sending me to school.”

Batman: “Yes, I am. William-”

Marvel: “Don’t call me that.”

Batman: *sighs* “Billy, education is important. You shouldn’t put it off for heroics. Even Robin goes to school.”

Marvel: “Okay? I’m not a Robin though. And that only works because you guys patrol at night. If I go to school I’ll miss my day-patrol.”

Batman: “I’m sure there are plenty of other heroes in Fawcett who patrol during the day. Why not leave it to one of them?”

Marvel: “Because I don’t want to. I like saving people. The more heroes who are out in Fawcett, the less likely somebody might get glossed over and hurt because a hero wasn’t there in time to save them. I don’t wanna be the person that failed them just because I was busy with school or because I went to bed early… I say that last part because no matter what Supes thinks, he’s not subtle about wanting me to have a darn curfew.”

Batman: *stares in silence because he now feels a little bad and also empathizes with that “what if I’m not there mentality*

Marvel: *thinks that silence is Bruce still not understanding him* “Look, if you still don’t get what I’m trying to say, imagine if someone came into Gotham and tried pushing you out of the superhero business just because they thought you unfit to be hero. That’s how I feel in this situation. I don’t tell you guys how to your jobs, so why are you trying to tell me?” *reaches over to grab the tablet a sign up for the two missions he wanted to take*

Yeah… Batman started treating him normally after that. Supes also did because his superhearing caught the convo.

Then, there’s his relationship with Flash and GL. They’d taken to treating him like a little kid or nephew even though Billy doesn’t want that.

Marvel: “Could you guys uh- stop treating me like a kid?” *sounds disappointed them*

Flash: *somehow still feels dread at the disappointment even though, NO, this guy is younger than him, why does Barry still feel like he disappointed his dad?* “You are a kid though.”

Marvel: “Yeah, I know, but you didn’t used to do this before.”

GL: *also dislikes that he’s bothered by the Dad Disappointment™️ radiating off of Marvel* “That was before we knew you were a kid though.”

Marvel: “Yeah, well I don’t care. I don’t need you to act like this. I don’t want you to act like this. I want friends, not chaperones or parental figures or anything stupid like that. I don’t like that you’re treating me differently now.” *sounds bitter* “You guys seem to forget that I’ve been doing this since before most of you were even, excuse my language, sperm cells. And sure, there was suspendium, but I fought Nazis, commies, and my own villains on top of that, all without being treated like a defenseless little kid and I ended up just fine. So I don’t need any of you acting like I’m a stupid little baby.”

That shut them up. It didn’t make any of the relationships between Billy and them go back to normal though. Not completely anyways. At least it was somewhat better though.

By the way, Billy, throughout all of this, just sounds bitter about being treated like this. He misses his friends guys :(.

[vi-steponmeplease]

BODY DYSMORPHIA

REQUEST: billie being rrly worried about r eating problems?

a/n: before we get into the fic, i just want to remind everyone that your struggles are valid. i understand where you're coming from and i promise you, you're perfect just as you are, inside and out. you don't need to be slim to be beautiful. that's just society's and men's messed up standards. this is just one of many serious & important topics and i want you to know that my messages are always open if you need to vent, talk, or simply have someone listen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

pairings - concernedgf!billie x insecure!reader

genre - angst, fluff, suggestive

synopsis: struggling with body image and online criticism, you find comfort as billie lovingly supports you and helps you confront your insecurities with understanding and care.

tw: heavy mentions of body dysmorphia & an eating disorder.

word count: 1.1K

you don't have to change you're perfect the way you are

⟡

she's a pretty girl without the filter she looks beautiful with no makeup on

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

"How about In-N-Out?"

Wide grins spread across everyone's faces as they nod in agreement, then turn to you, waiting for your response. Your gaze shifts to Finneas in the driver’s seat, then to Claudia in the passenger seat, before skimming over Alex and Zoe on your right, and finally landing on Billie—your girlfriend—seated to your left.

"Oh, uh, I'll actually just skip. I already ate, so I'm full," you say with a casual shrug.

"You sure you don't want something for later?" Billie asks, a soft chuckle escaping her lips as she lightly squeezes your knee. "I know you. You always say you're not hungry, then an hour later, you're begging me to get you something to eat."

You force a smile, shaking your head. "I'm sure."

During the drive to the fast-food joint, you pull out your phone, your lips pressing into a tight frown as you scroll through the comments left by Billie’s fans on her most recent post—some cruel and cutting, others trying to defend you.

quenxbillie4life: what an ugly fatass bitch prob js a gold digger ↳ ronniel0vesbils: do u even KNOW billie? she's struggled sm with body image. have u heard not my responsibility? u have no right to say that abt her gf.

billieeilishnoticeme69: BIG BACK BIG BACK BIG BACK

billybiggestfan: elephants don't deserve to date global stars like billy ↳ ronniel0vesbils: lmao didn't even spell her name right u fake fan😭

billiespitonme: @ronniel0vesbils is legit fighting for her life out here LMFAO

The harsh words sting, and though the supportive replies are there, they feel drowned out by the negativity. You glance out the car window, trying to shake the ache in your chest, but the comments linger like a shadow.

You try to conceal your exhaustion, but it’s hard to ignore the countless nights spent sobbing, curled up with your knees to your chest, rocking back and forth as you desperately pray to wake up with a model’s body the next day.

But it never happens. And each passing day only deepens the growing hatred you feel toward yourself.

Why would Billie ever choose someone like you?

She’s one of the most ethereal-looking women on the planet, effortlessly breathtaking in a way that leaves you in awe. She never seems to have a bad moment, always stunning. Yet somehow, out of everyone, she chose you.

You sit silently, watching everyone enjoy their burgers and sip on their drinks, all the while wishing the ground would open up and swallow you whole. Deep down, you’ve convinced yourself that you’re not even worthy of a good meal—that starving yourself is just the price you have to pay to lose weight.

Your eyes drop to your hands resting in your lap, fingers fidgeting with your nails as a quiet sigh escapes. Slumping further into the seat, you tune out the lively conversations and laughter of your friends, letting the background noise blur into nothingness.

"You okay, baby?"

The gentle voice snaps you out of your thoughts. You hear the jingle of keys being tossed onto the coffee table, followed by soft footsteps padding across the wooden floor. Billie appears in the doorway, leaning against the frame with concern etched across her face. "You were acting a little weird today."

You glance away, offering only a small nod in response, but Billie isn’t convinced. She crosses the room and sits beside you, the mattress dipping under her weight as she exhales softly. Her ring-clad hand comes to rest lightly on your knee.

"You sure?" she presses, her voice tender. "You usually never say no to burgers."

A bitter chuckle slips out before you can stop it, the comment twisting into an unintentional jab at yourself. Are you really such a glutton that even Billie notices the sudden change? The thought stings.

"Yeah," you mutter, your tone tinged with self-deprecation. "That just might be the issue." You roll your eyes at your typical eating habits, the words dripping with sarcasm and frustration.

Billie’s brows knit together, a faint crease forming on her forehead as she shifts closer, tilting her head thoughtfully. “Ah,” she murmurs, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I get it, love. I know how you feel—I’ve been through it.”

Her hand moves up to your arm, fingers tracing gentle, soothing patterns across your skin. “I want you to know I’m here for you. Always. You’re not alone in this, and you never will be.” Her voice is soft but firm, her words wrapping around you like a warm embrace.

“Anything you ever want to tell me, I’m listening. And,” she adds, a small, playful smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, “you can’t be stressing your pretty little head about all this without me being involved, got it?”

Your lips curl into a soft smile, but the harsh, critical thoughts about your appearance still linger, refusing to be silenced.

Billie notices the unease in your expression. Her hand gives your arm a gentle squeeze before she guides you down onto the bed, your back pressing against the sheets and your head cradled by a pillow.

For a moment, your mind races. Really? Sex? Does she think a distraction like this will actually help right now?

Still, you push the thought aside, watching as Billie moves with quiet determination. Her fingers deftly unbutton your jeans, sliding them down your legs and tossing them onto the floor. She shifts her focus to your torso, carefully slipping your shirt over your head, leaving you in just your bra and underwear.

Instinctively, your hands fly to your stomach, trying to cover yourself. Even though Billie has seen you naked countless times, the habit of hiding feels ingrained—an automatic response to the insecurities clawing at you.

Billie is quick to pin your hands gently to your sides, her soft yet firm grip keeping them in place. Her lips brush against your jaw, leaving a trail of warmth as she moves down to your neck, collarbone, and then licks a slow, deliberate stripe down the valley of your breasts.

"Pretty fucking girl," she murmurs, her voice low and filled with adoration. A quiet groan escapes her lips as she shifts lower, her hands gliding across your skin, mapping every inch and curve with reverent care.

"I love you," she says, her words muffled as she presses her lips tenderly against your belly button. "So fucking much, angel. You’re perfect."

Her hands drift to your thighs, squeezing them gently before she peppers a trail of featherlight kisses along their length. “I love every curve, every inch of this gorgeous body,” she whispers, her tone steady and unwavering, as if daring your insecurities to challenge her conviction.

"And that's never, ever going to change."

[katiascraft]

✐ᝰ "You knew all too well i was right where you left me" | CL16 ࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊

parings: retired!charles leclerc x writer!ex!reader

series summary: It’s the story of a woman frozen in the moment her world fell apart. A perfect dinner ended with, “I met someone else,” and while everyone moved on, she remained stuck in that instant, unable to let go of the past. A poignant tale of heartbreak, grief, and the weight of being trapped in a “forever” that never was.

‎[one / two / three / four / current / six...]

chapter five

"there'll be happiness after you but there was happiness because of you too"

word count: 6k.

BLOG MASTERLIST - series masterlist

⋆˚࿔ i did something bad 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

The kiss that started sweet and gentle turned into a passionate and steamy kiss in a fraction of a second. Franco felt kind of desperate. And to be fair, he was. He has waited his whole life for this moment to happen. Or at least all of these years since he met you. But he was convinced he won’t ever feel like this for any other girl in his entire life. He dated girls, fucked a few, played with them sometimes, tried to make it work. But none of them felt like you, laughed like you, thought like you, joked like you. None of them were you. And what was the craziest thing to him was that he had never tasted you. Not like this. He felt raised to heaven blessed by the gods. He felt like a kid who behaved properly and Santa brought him all of the presents he asked for during the year. A dream came true.  

His hands were all over your back and hips. His touch was warm and determined. He felt like he wanted to remember how you felt, the shape of you under his touch, how your skin felt, how warm he made you feel. 

His kisses were tracing a road down your neck. His lips were soft and wet. They made your skin crawl. Your fingers in his hair and shoulders trying to remain stood under his embrace. His skin was soft and his perfume was leaving you drunker by its whiskey scent. That smell defined him very well in your opinion. His skin was on fire. You couldn’t help but feel things you aren’t supposed to feel with your best friend. Well, you were doing things you’re not supposed to do with your bestie either. 

Your breath was heavy. Your heart rate elevated. He came back to your lips and the way he kisses you gently again burnt your body. You felt a heat you haven’t felt in a long time for anyone. If you didn’t remember to be this intense before. Franco was franco. And that implied that everything was different. Unique. He wasn’t like other guys. I mean, he was the most cheerful guy you have ever met. You couldn’t stop laughing around him. It  was impossible not to or have a serious conversation. But at the same time he was such a great listener. When you told him about Charles that you ended up crying, he was the most comforting person. You knew at that moment your friendship made a turn. A turn into one of the most precious relationships you have in your life. He was so comprehensive. It is actually so rare to meet someone like that in this fucked up society these days. 

And for some reason or maybe for all of those reasons, this felt really wrong. You didn’t want to hurt him. You always knew he liked you, of course you did. It was obvious. The way he looked at you. All out of context presents or compliments. All of his invitations to every grand prix during the year. The facetime calls at random times in the day just to check in. and you liked all of that but always tried to make sure you didn’t play with his feelings. Respecting spaces and distances. Codes. He was really important to you, you just couldn’t risk him just like that. Just for a kiss or sex. He deserved to be so happy with someone 100% into him. And you kinda hated destiny for making him like you when you were stuck with Charles and always into someone else (even failing every time). 

But now you hate yourself even more. Not only because you liked to torture yourself in a really twisted way. But also because you were actually kissing him and touching him in not a friendly way. Not the way you’re supposed to touch him. Or to kiss him. Or to spend your time with him. This was so wrong. You knew this would lead to drama. And the worst part is that you couldn’t stop. And maybe you didn’t want to. And why didn’t you? What is your brain planning to do? Making every situation you’re in worse than the previous one. 

And it was the worst scenario possible. You don’t know how you both ended up in Franco's room. His shirt was already off. Your lips were kissing his stomach going down. It was the best situation for him, that’s for sure. You promised to never get this drunk ever again. You stood up after reaching his boxers with your lips. And kissed him again like you wanted to rescued yourself from fuck it all up but at the same time not stopping at all. You were driving Franco insane and for a moment he felt a bit empty. Was this the beginning of something? Or was it just a once in a lifetime night? Thinking about all of this started hunting him. You have never given him signs that you liked him back. But you were one of his best friends. His hands grabbed your head possessively bringing you closer to him starting to lead you to his bed. You followed him, letting him do whatever he wanted with you. 

Were you ready to do this again? 

Surprising as it may sound, you haven’t had sex in a very long time. You liked to have fun with yourself and explore yourself. But it was hard for you to feel something towards someone and desire them this way. Because the only one who used to turn you on was charles. And there he was again in your head. He was always there hunting you. Franco pushed you softly into his bed climbing up on you. And that’s when you woke up from this trance you couldn’t quite comprehend. He was about to undress you when you pushed him again as softly as you could because you were now exasperated about the situation you put yourself under. Franco looked at you scared. He felt he has really fucked it up. 

“y/n i’m sorry, please. Perdon, I didn't mean to.. I’m sorry” he said, getting up and pulling his shirt on again as fast as he could. You tried to adjust yourself heading out the bedroom. You couldn’t face him now. You felt terrible about yourself. You didn’t know how to handle this situation. You were too drunk. But you also knew you wouldn’t know how to deal with this sober either. “y/n wait, please. Let’s talk” he could grab your hand to stop you from leaving the bedroom making you face him. You felt so embarrassed. You felt like a monster. You looked at his face. He was such a good guy and yet here you are about to break his heart. Why didn’t you stop? Why did you let him do this? You knew it was not only your responsibility, it was his as well but still. 

“I'm sorry fran, this shouldn’t have happened. I'm really sorry” when you said those words you could see how his face changed into a one that even broke your heart. He dropped your hand. He knew. He fucking knew you didn’t like him. Then why would you do this? And on his birthday?

You sprinted out of that room immediately. We can say you almost ran away from him. But the reality was that you wanted to run away from yourself and your stupid ass decisions who fucked everything up each single time. The hallway down to where the party was being held never felt so infinite. You knew your anxiety was becoming a bit too much for you at that moment. Catastrophic scenarios were playing on and on in your mind as you took each step down the stairs. The pressure in your chest increases when you see the people at the party. You felt like they were looking at you, judging. Laughing in your face. Howpathetic could you be? Not getting over your only ex fro more than 10 years, then almost fuck your friend thhat you wasn’t sure if you liked him like that for real or not,  then wanting to be over everything and then fucking everything up. You didn't know how to handle these situations. You felt like a teenager again. Too many mistakes. Too confusing. That made you feel ashamed of yourself. You were a 32 years old woman, acting like 17 years old, fucking up friendships while you couldn’t stop thinking of your ex. And that’s when you wanted to throw up. 

You didn’t want to find your friends. You didn’t want to tell them how you fuck it up with the one guy (once again) that is good for you. How you wasted his time and feelings. You felt like a monster. Like you played with him on purpose even if you actually didn’t want to. You were way too harsh on yourself sometimes. You needed to get out of there just like you got away when you first saw Charles again in that restaurant (or well, now it’s a coffee shop). 

It was running away from your fears, you couldn’t confront them. It was running away from you. You hated yourself. You couldn’t think straight and clear about yourself most of the time. The only moment you trusted yourself was when writing. And you also doubted yourself very much on it. You couldn’t win. Your self-confidence didn’t exist. You were sure about it. People were dancing while you were pushing them a bit to walk through the party out to the garden. You need fresh air in your brain as soon as possible. Or you were about to become insane if you didn’t. People said things to you but you didn’t hear. Your eyes locked on the floor. Your stomach was in your throat. The image of Charles stuck in your brain. 

I met someone. I met someone. I met someone. I met someone. I met someone. 

His lips moved, pronouncing those damn three words to your face. As if they were nothing. As if you were nothing at all for him. And maybe you were. You couldn’t imagine Franco saying those things to you, for example. Or maybe men were equal? Maybe you needed to experiment with girls. Maybe they are less complicated and more open. But maybe you were the problem. Too many thoughts per second. You jumped out of every single boat you ended up in. You didn’t know anymore. In your brain, things are too complicated and you know all too well you will need years to repair the damage made to it. From your dad and mum, to Charles and every single other guy you mate. To Franco and to this balcony where you would find someone maybe ready to love you like you matter, like you deserve to feel loved, like you’re amazing and beautiful. Then you were sure you were completely insane. There was no way you were always thinking about someone saving you from yourself. But there you were hoping to meet the love of your life in that gallery outside the party in Franco's house. Maybe writing and your imagination was rotting your brain. You thought about retiring and working in a library as a normal person would do. You didn’t know why you were thinking all of these things suddenly. 

Maybe you were tired and frustrated. You just gave up when you finally got to the garden. The cold air of London fills your lungs, helping you with your anxiety. Your body heat dropped. Your sweaty hands got dry and cold. Your nose is red. Your eyes closed. You were doing your breathing meditation. Your heart palpitations didn’t stop though. And they were fast. Faster than Charles getting over you and everything you built. Faster than you ruining the friendship with franco. Faster than you waiting for someone to save you. Your life sucked. You really didn’t want to think about it like that. But you did. Most times you just couldn't see positive things in it. You felt like a failure. A loser. You didn’t have a lover nor a family. A loser that’s what you were. A complete failure. You had almost no family as well. No father, no mother. Just a brother and a sister who lived on the other side of the world and barely talked to you. Your only family was agostina, your best friend. And she was everything you were not. She has the perfect lover with whom she built a beautiful family of five. Her kids were lovely. She was gorgeous and the greatest person you knew. She was exactly everything you were not. But you didn't hate her. Of course you didn't. You would never think of her like that. It made you as sad as happy for her. Sad for you. Happy for her. 

Why can’t you live something like that? 

“Hey, you okay?” you jumped a little scared because of the sudden interruption to your thoughts and sadness. You turned to your side to find that guy. I think it was Lando's name or something like that Nikola said a few hours ago. When he brought you back to reality you realized you were crying hard. Your face bathed in tears. Cold and puffy. His face was concerned. His eyes are shiny, so blue and green. You found his face so pretty to look at. Alcohol was still in your veins, otherwise you wouldn’t be here crying so dramatically. You would try to hide it. Always. 

⋆˚࿔ let it happen 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Your eyes were on his eyes. Yours were red and puffy. His red is tired and shiny. You stayed in silence for a moment. You answered his question when he saw your face. Something in him cracked for some reason. Oh, he did know you very well. He saw you on that balcony and now that he has you right in front of him, he couldn’t believe you being more beautiful than on that day, but you actually are. He promised Charles he wouldn’t even try but he talked to Carlos about it. Carlos wanted Charles to move on but he was making a move on you and was crossing the line. 

He looked down to his water bottle on his right hand. “Do you want some? Maybe you feel better” he said with a deep voice. He was nervous as hell. Alcohol in his veins as like in yours. He saw your smile. Your face was so pretty. You looked so cute with the boca juniors shirton. He had one as well. He didn’t think they were his colors, blue and yellow, not his thing. But you looked so pretty in them. All of the girls at the party were dressed looking hot as hell. But you and your friends looked cute. Relaxed outfits for the win. And that made you look all so attractive or at least for him. He recognized you a few hours ago. He was kinda shocked to see you there because he has never seen you near franco like ever. You didn’t go to the races nor comment on Franco's posts. Or anything at all. Then here you are. He saw kissing him. He saw you two going up the stairs. Alcohol didn’t let him analizy things properly even if he tried his best in doing so. 

Your fingers that grabbed the bottle from his hand, brushed his sending electricity throughout his arm. He smiled gently at you watching you drink from it. 

“Thank you, and sorry you had to see me cry” you told him, giving his bottle back and he smiled so pretty, shaking his head. You found him so attractive. You were just trying not to be so obvious. Also, you were worried to look like a slut if he saw you kissing Franco before. But why did you care so much? Why were you thinking all of these things about him? 

“Oh no, don’t be sorry. You still look cute tho” he said giggling a bit making you laugh a bit as well. You shook your head not agreeing with him. 

“Thank you again, but no need to lie about that tho” you told him a little funny. 

“I promise I'm not lying. You're pretty even crying” he confessed, making you blush. “You okay? Need to talk or something?” he asked to checkon you even if you were strangers. “Im lando by the way” he introduced himself so this wasn’t that weird. 

“I’m y/n. Nice to meet you. I think I'm better now, I just made a lot of stupid decisions throughout my life that now alcohol just reminds me how much of a loser I am” you were honest. More honest than you would be with anyone. You just blamed the alcohol. 

“Hey, I don't think you’re a loser y/n. I mean, I know we don’t know each other at all. But for me, you don’t look like a loser at all” he expressed. You looked out to the garden in front of you a bit ashamed. 

“Appearances can lie, you know? I’m a loser, I promise you. I’m still stuuckin a fucking restaurante knowing all too well i should’ve move on years ago. But here I am. Fucking up friendships and any opportunity i have to get better and be happy. I just hate myself so much. I won’t ever be happy” you gave up. You no longer cared about what people would think. You didn’t care if he thought you were crazy for telling him so much private stuff. You barely know his name. But there you were comfortable enough to confess your depression to him. He analyzed you. Every detail of your face. Each word you used to describe yourself. 

“I don’t think that makes you a loser still. I think you’re brave enough to tell a stranger how you feel and in my opinion, that takes strength and confidence. And i think you will be happy, you just need to let yourself be” his words hung on the air between you two. Why was a stranger talking to her? Why was he saying things she needed to here? Why his words were important? You were sure he  knew how much of a mess you were. It shows. You were sure. But still he was here. Right when you want someone here waiting for you ready to save you.  Is this who will save you? Are you out of your mind for thinking like this about him? 

Delusion was thinking he will be just like charles wright? You had no idea who this guy was but still you compared him to charles. Because you didn’t want to date Charles again or anyone like him. Or did you? You didn’t know how you felt about all of this. About charles. About yourself. About this guy you don't even know and you want him already to save you just because he called you brave and strong and pretty. Was that really enough for you? Was that the standard you had for yourself? He could be a serial killer right? But you could save him. He could love you. And you would forget about charles. About his touch. About his voice and laugh. About his jokes and moans. About his perfume. About his family and friends. About his cars. About everything related to him. 

But was it fair to love someone to stop loving someone else? 

Did you still love Charles? 

You looked at him again. Your eyes connected. He smiled shyly. You did as well. Maybe you could let this guy ruin you just like Charles did, just because of his face, and his voice and what he said to you without even knowing you. You should get your shit together. You still reeling that fucking monaguesque guy. But at this point you didn’t care anymore. Or at least that’s what you thought. He got closer and kissed your cheek, that took you by surprise but you liked it. Probably way too much.

“I know without knowing you that you’re amazing. You just need to believe it. I’m sure you’ll find someone who sees you” he added and your smile became wider. 

“Thank you, lando.wow. Any stranger said so many nice things about me” you half joked shyly and his cheeks went red. His giggles were the cutest sound you have heard lately. Where was this guy? 

Then you remembered Franco and that this guy probably is his friend. And your back at your self hate again.

Why did everything have to be so difficult?

Why do you have to make so many mistakes at once? 

“y/n, we need your help” Dottie's voice interrupted you two. Her voice seemed worried. “Betty is way too drunk, it’s better if we go home now” she explained, a little suspicious of your both body languages. You nodded. 

“Alright, let’s go. Nice to meet you Lando, hope to talk to you another time though so it’s not that depressing. I promise im fun” you said a bit funny but hurried. Your friend first, always. You kissed his cheek quickly. He laughed about your comment. 

“Oh yea, she is,” Dottie added, supporting you in a smile.

“Hope to see you again sometime, Y/n. good luck with your friend” he said to both of you and after smiling at him you went into the party again.

“D, I think I'm in love,” you said excitedly.

“What?”

⋆˚࿔ it’s time to go 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

⋆˚࿔ the fucking tuesday 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Arriving in monaco again at 11 am has never felt so good in your entire life. A trip that started like a dream to remember, turned into a nightmare you couldn’t forget but all you wanted to was to forget about it. Just pretend it never existed and erase everything you did wrong that Saturday night.

You missed your house (your safe place),and you needed its comfort more than you would like to admit. Your brain was a mess. You couldn’t stop thinking about charles driving you to your friend’s house then the memory just fading away and inturning into him saying non stop i met someone. You felt you were going insane when you remembered Franco's skin on yours and how good and warm it felt. How you kissed his abs. And then how you got so scared. His face was printed in ink in your subconscious. You could only see sadness, shame, and a bit of hatred. You were sure at that moment he hated you. Like you humiliate him a bit. You felt so bad about it you couldn’t even face him. You really wanted to say sorry but you just didn’t want to see him straight in the eyes. Shame was tattooed all over your body. How could you?

Then your mind was reminded of Lando's existence and you just wanted to punch yourself in the face. What the hell happened with you at that party? Was the fernet that Franco prepared? You wanted to blame anything except yourself. You didn’t understand yourself either. Like your feelings and thoughts couldn’t agree on anything. Like you had split personality issues.

Yes, you liked lando way too much probably in those few minutes at the gallery. But then there was Franco that you now were confused about how you felt about him. Because you really liked to kiss him. To touch him. To feel him close to you in that way.

And then there was still charles.

You were really tired of thinking already you just had to put taylor swift on your headphones.you took the bus that left you one block away from your house. You don't want to call anyone to pick you up. You texted A and she told you that. You didn’t understand why she did it. But it overwhelmed you for sure. You just wanted to retreat from life like forever.

When you finally got home you went straight into bed. When you touched your pillow you started crying. And that’s how you fell asleep scared to have another nightmare.

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Charles watched Carlos leaving his phone on the counter with a weird face “everything alright mate?” he asked. Carlos nodded and smiled.

“Yeah, did you send the invitation to everyone you know?” he asked, grabbing the box with vodka bottles and taking them to the fridge.

“Yeah, it’s gonna be a crazy wild night” Charles said excitedly trying to not let his anxiety control his mood right now. He wanted to have fun and purposely forget about everything with alcohol. A lot of it. As much as possible.

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

The music was so loud that Charles could barely listen to what the blonde girl in front of him was talking about but he didn’t care that much. He was already bored by the third girl Carlos introduced him to. He knows Carlos just has good intentions but he was already convinced no one will captivate him the way you did. Not even if they tried to imitate you. Since he saw you again he couldn’t forget your scent. The way you smiled to your nephews. How you treated them and how he was confused for a moment if they were your children. He always knew you wanted to be a mother and for what he saw he was sure you would be the best one out there. He wanted to forget about you he really did. But he was also sure life hated him. He wanted to rebuild his life and leave behind the damage he caused, but then there was you again in that fucking restaurant. And in that moment he knew all too well it would drive him insane. And he felt like it. He believed it.

The girl notices he wasn’t paying attention to her. Charles was playing with his glass of whiskey. Her face looked annoyed and disappointed. Charles didn’t care. She told him she needed to go to the bathroom and disappeared for the rest of the night. He drank his whole glass in one take. He just wanted to drown in alcohol right there and vaish from life. From everyone who knew him.

He saw Carlos dancing la macarena with his group of spanish friends that came for the holidays. He was enjoying himself around. Rebecca, his girlfriend, was there as well, matching hia freak. And for a moment he felt something he never felt before and he didn't like it at all. He felt envious. He wanted to have his life. Be him. Have the girl of his dreams dancing around with him. His friends were here but not with him. And he didn’t even like to dance. And don't have anyone to have sex with. Then he felt miserable. Angry with life itself.he was disappointed. He felt he let down everyone in his life. And the proof was that damn book she wrote. He was a coward. And everyone knew about it; they just didn't know it was him all along. And when the truth comes out then his life will be ended.

He swallowed hard and stood up to grab more whiskey. This time he was drinking from the bottle. He pushed himself aside from the party and sat near the pool even if he was freezing. He didn’t care anymore if he got sick or died. He was extreme. He looked at your balcony and wanted to cry. He wanted to cry like a child. Throw punches and scream. He felt there was no way to fix his life. He regretted breaking you so much. He always knew this was everything to you. You were so caring and always there for him and his whole family. He also knew he broke his mum. She loves you deeply. You were like her daughter, the one she never had. The one he and dad would have loved to have if they could choose the sex of their children. Remembering his dad broke him. He started crying. If he was here he knew he would be disappointed in him. Not because of his career (he made history) but because he isn’t with a good woman. He doesn't have kids either. And he now believed he didn't even have a future.

He looked again at your balcony. The lights were off. He didn’t know if you were there or not. If you had a lover. Or even if you have him blocked on social media. And that’s when curiosity won over him. What if he tried to search for your name on instagram? He was sure someone he knew, knew you as well. Monaco is too little to not have those coincidences on the daily.

He searched the first letters of your name and then saw that his ex, alexandra followed you. He felt weird about it and his face showed confusion with his eyebrows. He clicked on your profile and started stalking you. You still paint and have a piano. You used to play piano together. Actually, you taught him. You were the best professor he had ever had. He smiled looking at pictures of random dogs you found on the streets and with your nephews. You built a new family away from your actual family. That made him happy for a second. He knew after both of your parents died, you didn’t get along so well with your siblings. But he didn’t know if it was still like that. He saw how successful you were. How your book was a bestseller and how it would be a movie produced by universal. He was surprised. He would have never expected this outcome. Back in the day you were an art teacher for children and had a studio where you gave those lessons. Children loved you so much. He remembered their bright smiles when the parents came around to pick them up. He admired you so much for it. He even fantasizes that one day that face so bright and happy will be the one your children will have everytime they look at their mother. He wanted to be a father with you. But then alex came around and fucked it all up. Or well he actually did. And he still couldn’t understand why he did it.

Alex Was beautiful, he couldn’t deny that. She also loved him dearly. She was in love with him. And he thought he was with her. But then everything spiraled down and collapsed. He met her at that partymax verstappen threw to celebrate he was an official f1 driver for red bull. He invited everyone he ever met along his life. You couldn’t go because you had to take an exam the following morning. And that’s when it happened. She was dancing with her group of friends. She also had a boyfriend. And we talked and sparks were there. And then Charles got all confused. And they kissed. And he had already cheated by the time he realized that it was wrong. And then he couldn't stop. And his life went to shit.

He didn’t realize he was sobbing until he felt his teardrops stain his creme pants. He was using a fancy outfit. He looked really good. But as everything he touched, he also ruined that too in that moment. And because he was so busy feeling miserable, he didn’t realize the police were already at carlos’ door wanting to shut down the party. I mean, it was a tuesday night of a working week after all.

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

When Charles got closer to Carlos, he was already shouting at the police officers like a crazy man. He was drunk for sure and the policeman knew about it too. No perfume will ever smell like that. Not in Monaco of course.

“Then tell me, who will call? I need to know who to call. I never do parties and then once I do I can't and it’s not fair. I need to know who called you, it's my right as a citizen "Carlos was verbose and angry.

“Carlos it’s okay, how much should we pay you to let us have a party?” Charles intervenes trying to look not drunk at all but failing in each word. Police men looked at each other, annoyed by these two men.

“That would be a crime, sir” the police officer with a beard that looked disgusting in charles’ opinion, answered him. He kind of felt offended.

“Then who it was!!” Carlos was losing it and Charles was scared they would take him to jail right there.

“Your neighbor” the other one talked now pointing his fingers to his right. His right.

Your house was at his right. You called the cops. At that moment he felt he was about to faint. He was sure he was white. The policemen looked at him weird. Carlos then started walking. If you were in a cartoon show he would have smoke coming out his head right now. He walked fast towards your hose. Charles panicked and followed him desperate. Carlos started banging your door so he could tell you things.

“Carlos, nono. Let’s just go home, c’mon "Charles tried to convince Carlos but he was determined and ignored him. He won’t let you ruin his party. His celebration. His opportunity to present a woman for his friend to be happy. The one he taught you ruined. Becausehe couldn’t be over you. And he saw all of this as if you were now not letting him be able to in a very twisted way.

Charles was scared and worried when he saw your light turning on by the minute. His eyes wanting to leave his face when he saw you in your marvel pajamas again. Your hair was a mess and your face had the darkest circles under your eyes. Your face puffy as if you were crying or you did before you went to sleep and then they woke you up. No he felt as guilty as when he realized he left the love of his life stuck in that fucking restaurant you both loved so much.

“What the fuck is wrong with you bitch? Huh? Stop torturing my friend!” carlos said aggressively the moment he saw you when you opened the door.

⋆˚࿔ TO BE CONTINUED 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

chapter six: coming soon.

tag list: @a-beaverhausen , @annaluna12 , @thehoplessromanticclub , @emryb , @hadids-world , @kaztheemyth , @freyathehuntress , @diorbrxtz , @theseerbetweenus , @sie17136 , @leila-030304 , @charlesgirl16 , @ricciardosheart , @weekendlusting

author’s note: hope you all have a merry christmas ❤️ and that you like this chapter as much as I do !

thank you everyone for reading and sharing what I write. I really really appreciate it!

if you wanna be part of the tag list just leave a comment!

see you on the next chapter :)

Don’t forget to like, reblog or comment! And follow me so we can be friends! (And drink mate together) <3

[howi99]

A Knight second chance 8

Jaune: *trying to leave*

Glynda: And where do you think you are going, young man?

Jaune: *sigh* Professor Goodwitch, We are still technically the weekend and i highly doubt my co-dependency is enjoying... Whatever we are doing.

Penny: *Smiling* Oh do not mind me friend Jaune, i'm fine going wherever you want to go!

Glynda: *sigh* Jaune, this is very important if you want to stay in Beacon. We can't risk you having a panic attack, or something similar, in the middle of a mission.

Jaune: Glyn- *cough* I mean, professor Goodwitch, i understand the importance of mental stability, but meditation isn't something i can easily do when... Well... *Point at Penny* i need to concentrate on repairing her mind.

Glynda: ... Quite. *Sigh* You may go, but i want you in my office the second you are available.

Jaune: *Nod* Will do, ma'am.

___________________________________________

Penny: *walking in the streets of Vale with Jaune* Why did you lie to her? She could have helped us against Roman!

Jaune: *looking at a map* Your communications are out?

Penny: Since yesterday, yes-

Jaune: I already have a deal with Roman.

Penny: *frowning* You made a deal with him? Why?!

Jaune: *taking little alleys and backstreets* Well, who's better than him to give me information on Cinder? Not only that, but i also asked him to use his contacts to dig up dirt on Lionheart.

Penny: That's also something i don't really get, why aren't you telling Osc-, *shaking her head* i mean Ozpin, about everything?

Jaune: *sigh* You don't have all the information, Penny. You only got my memory of when you were there... Beside, you saw how competent he was with choosing his allies.

Penny: *computing* That's... Fair. But what about Glynda?

Jaune: *shaking his head* Too loyal... In fact- *pick up a rock on the ground* the only one i could trust- *turn around and aim for the suspicious looking Crow* Is a dusty old alcoholic! *Throw the stone directly at Qrow's bird form head, making him fall on the ground*

Qrow: *transforming back into his human form* Oof! *Looking up at the teen* Don't you know you shouldn't harass wild life?

Jaune: *smiling* Don't you know it's impolite to listen to private conversation?

___________________________________________

Qrow: *blinking* Wait... You come from the future?

Jaune: *shaking his head* I'm Jaune from the present. Or at least, the body is. My memories, on the other hand, are from the future*Think about his time in the ever after* ... mostly.

Qrow: ... *Goes to take a sip of alcohol*

Jaune: *frown* You should stop that, Summer would be pissed.

Qrow: *looking at Jaune* Now listen here punk, using my dead friend's name is not-

Jaune: She's alive.

Qrow: ... What?

Jaune: She's in hiding, since she got the summer maiden power and-

Qrow: *angry* WHAT!?

Jaune: *surprised by the reaction* Qrow, calm down! It's not as if she had a choice!

Qrow: DID OZPIN KNOW!?

Jaune: No! No, he doesn't. Heck, you should know since you've been searching for the Maidens a majority of your huntsman life.

Qrow: I... BUT... *Sigh* Fucking hell.

Jaune: *sweating* Your sister, on the other hand-

Qrow: That bitch!

___________________________________________

Ozpin: -and you are certain about this?

Qrow: *a glass of water in hand* About 97% sure. The kid isn't a spy from Salem.

Glynda: *still looking at the glass of water as if the world stopped spinning* ... Did... Did something else happen? Like a divine intervention or a miracle?

Qrow: *stifled a laugh* Nothing like that, i just thought i should cut back a bit. *Thinking back at the stone* My reflexes aren't as sharp as i thought.

[st4rrzynight]

𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐈’𝐌 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐘 — 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐬

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 — 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫, 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐛𝐞𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭– 𝐧𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐧𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐫

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳˢ ᵖᵒᵛ

𝟏𝟎:𝟓𝟑 𝐏𝐌. i anxiously stared at the time on my phone. it has almost been an hour and paige still hasn't shown up. tonight is my birthday, she promised she'd show up after she washed up from tonights game.

i'm looking around as my friends converse around me in my apartment. my roommates have already questioned me on the absence of my girlfriend. i wish i knew why she wasn't here either.

i enter the passcode to my phone in a hurry as i pull up her contact and type out a message.

Paige 💜🫶

hey, where are you? everyone’s asking about you... are you on your way?

i'm so sorry, babe. i can’t make it.

what?

i know, i know. I feel awful about it, but something came up the team wanted me to come celebrate tonights win with them

its my birthday paige you promised you would be here. going out with the team is suddenly more important than your girlfriends birthday?

it's not just "going out". it's to celebrate tonights win, and it's kind of a big deal. if i don't show up, it could look bad. i don't want to let them down, you have to understand.

no paige, i don’t understand. I’m standing here, surrounded by my friends, and i have to keep making excuses as to why you’re not here. do you know how embarrassing that is? to not have my own girlfriend show up to celebrate my birthday??

i'm sorry, okay? i’ll make it up to you. i’ll take you out somewhere nice tomorrow just the two of us, yeah?

no paige it’s not about “making it up.” it’s about showing up when you say you will. but you NEVER do.

that’s not fair. you know how much pressure i’m under i just want to celebrate the win, look i'll make it up to you tomorrow i promise.

paige i am so tired of this. seriously, you keep making empty promises, you get my hopes up only for you to tell me a half assed excuse that you pulled straight out of your ass last minute.

please don’t do this right now. i’ll call you after i leave.

don’t bother, we're done.

what??

read 10:56

what do you mean were done??

read 10:58

y/n answer me please baby

read 10:59

please ill do anything ill make it up to you i promise please answer my message baby

⚠︎︎ not delivered

꥟

ᵖᵃⁱᵍᵉˢ ᵖᵒᵛ

two years. 730 days. i lost her two years ago today, i lost it all. i know it was my fault, i put everything above her and i deeply regret it. now i have to live life in regret watching from the sidelines as she celebrates her birthday once again. this time, with her girlfriend.

her laugh filling the air knowing i used to be the cause of that laughter. admiring her from across the bar, sitting in between my teammates as they make conversation yet i can't bring myself to take my eyes off of her.

i scan ever inch of her body my eyes stopped on her wrist, then her fingers, then her neck. every single piece of jewelry i got her, gone. none of it in sight as if it never existed.

a hand on her thigh from a woman who was a copy of me. blonde, blue eyes, tall, and she plays soccer. but its not me. it will never be me again.

i can't even blame her, thats why i hate it. i hate that i can't hate her no matter how hard i try because in the end i will always love her and it will always be her.

even if i'm not her happy ever after. i distract myself trying to find someone new but it never ends well. i always find similarities between the girls i've gone on dates with and her. thats what attracts me to them, the fact that they slightly even look like her. but they will never compare to her full look, no one will.

so for the rest of time ill find myself watching from the sidelines seeing her take on life with someone who isn't me by her side, someone who looks like me but is not entirely me.

it will always kill me, it's going to eat me alive till i die. knowing that i'm not hers anymore, i won't be looking for her in the student section knowing shes there. instead ill be looking for her in the student section in hopes she decided to show up, but i know she didn't. she's going to be in the student section of the soccer games watching and cheering on her.

i won't be able to buy her flowers anymore, instead i watch as she gets gifted flowers by another woman. except those aren't her favorite. they're the wrong flowers.

i wont be able to buy her the perfume she always wears when it runs out, her signature scent that i always loved. instead i watch as she gets gifted perfume by another woman. she sprays it into the air and by the time it reaches where i sit i know its not the one she loves. its the wrong perfume.

i won't be making late night sephora trips, picking out her favorite makeup products when shes running low. instead i watch as she gets gifted makeup by another woman. its the wrong brand.

because of my mistakes, ones that i regret so deeply, i now live with the gnawing feeling knowing that she now loves a woman who doesn't pay attention to small details and gifts her all the wrong things, on her birthday of all days, but she showed up. i didn't.

clearly i lacked attention to detail as well if i couldn't see how much i truly disappointed and hurt her and didn't even show up. i wish it went down differently.

every shooting star, every coin toss into a fountain, every time the clock hits 11:11, every fallen eyelash, every dandelion, my last two birthdays, my only wish was to have her back.

but i cant.

not anymore.

and it hurts.

i open up my phone clicking on her contact, i type out one last message, even if i know she won't ever get it. i type it out and send it as some type of closure.

𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐢'𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲.

⚠︎︎ not delivered

𝐚/𝐧 — 𝐧𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐟 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐍𝐎 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲, 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫

𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝, 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐭.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 —

@uwupaige @jadasogay @sweetluna20

[thoughtfulfiction]

The Game Plan

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"My...permission?"

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

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

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

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

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

"I will sir, you have my word."

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

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

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

Step one? Find the perfect ring.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Step two? Come up with proposal ideas.

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

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

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

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

“Private beach proposal in Hawaii?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? Where did you get that from?”

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s all this?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Our kids?”

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

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

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

“Let’s say it at the same time.”

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

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

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

And that time was right now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[berylcups]

Me and my irl friends live a couple cities away and we don’t talk often. But we always make it crystal clear to each other that we are text or phone call away. Maybe it’s because we are older and have busy schedules? That’s not implying young adults and teens don’t have busy schedules… school, school work, and part time (sometimes full time) jobs is difficult to deal with. It’s a hard conversation to have but if you or if a friend feels left out, maybe just be transparent with them about your responsibilities and/or mental health? But it’s your own business and you should only give out that info as long as you aren’t feeling pressured to. A true friend would understand your boundaries. Friends are an important part of your life but you have to take care of yourself first before you can help others. Just my two cents, based on my understanding of the post. Because I definitely have dealt with this issue before many times and wish I went about it differently.

As someone with social anxiety— to my mutuals, followers, & people I follow : if I don’t interact with anyone or their work on here it’s only because I’m either too shy or I didn’t see it on my feed. I get excited easily and I kinda hide in my shell like a turtle. 🐢 just know if we rarely interact, I still think you’re rad AF! 🥰

every now and then the internet decides it should revamp the ole “stop texting first and see how many friends you lose” when in reality you could literally just communicate that u feel bad that ur the only one texting first

[jetkast]

Listen I know there have been approximately a billion posts about the Divorce but I had to add to the noise.

This conversation really is such a succinct breakup with so much to it. Jayce finally has his moment to say something to Viktor after not knowing if he may ever get the chance at all, only for it all to come out scrambled. I just know he was punching the air at 3am redoing this conversation over and over.

Meanwhile Viktor was acclimating to the sheer body horror of being alive after dying, his own form nearly completely unknown to him, with this "recursive charge" thrumming in his skull that drives him to the most destitute part of the city.

Jayce (ready to beg like his life depends on it): I have royally fucked up and I will be seeking atonement forever for it, please please please love me, don't leave, guilt guilt guilt I'll die from guilt and failure right here on the floor

And my favorite part: 👹 where are you going 👹

I have been obsessed with the delivery of this line because it is exactly the phrase and tone used towards someone you are painfully intimate with and experiencing a rupture (aka divorcing). The panic of 'I cannot let you leave' with 'I'll die' and 'you're not allowed' while also so emotional that all that comes out is a sad anger. Like I can't even capture it. It's about the ownership or entitlement. It's not just "why are you exiting this conversation, that's rude and this is important" but something darker and more pathetic. I DON'T KNOW I JUST RECOGNIZE IT and wanted to ramble about it. Perhaps oddly, it is actually this line (juxtaposed with "it was affection", I'm suffering so much) that locked in them as already being intimately involved for me, beyond friends or lab mates.

These two are just on two entirely different planes of existence in this scene and it's so LAYERED AND UUHHGGFJH this show is going to drive me into my own recursive whateverthefuck.

Jayce is flooding with too much everything, love, fear, desperation, anger, hope, dread, etc, and looking for someone to hold it with him. And Viktor is a husk. And yet, they miss each other, not balancing one another, because they might as well be talking to each other through the looking glass. IT'S JUUUUST AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH lmao

[mychemicalraymance]

You guys CANNOT seriously keep making this argument. "What if the jokes were about people of color or lesbians" THEY ARE! THEY ARE! You can't throw a stone in any direction and not hit someone joking about gay and trans people, calling us groomers!

Stop moving the fucking goalpost for these people, stop doing the legwork of advocating for the most protected class of people who EVERYDAY treat us like shit in OUR REAL, MATERIAL LIVES. WHY ARE YOU GOING TO BAT FOR CISHET MEN? WHY DO YOU THINK WOMEN WHO HOLD DISDAIN FOR MEN DESERVE TO BE SHAMED FOR WHAT MEN DID TO THEM AND HOW THEY MADE HER FEEL? WHY DO YOU USE THE MOST BAD FAITH, FAR OUT EXAMPLES TO TRY AND ARGUE AGAINST WOMEN?

The argument that "well if you changed the circumstances, it would be different and you wouldn't like it" is HIGH KEY akin to the reverse sexism/racism fallacy and comes straight from the mind of an arrogant high school sophomore who thinks they got the whole "social justice" racket worked out and is very pleased to leave smug comments in their wake about it.

You cannot make this argument and hold genuine feminist beliefs, imo. It's ASININE.

Men are human beings who, in my life, have been very important companions and friends. I would also always hold room for conversations about the fact that the category of men as a whole includes men of color, who have historically been oppressed and categorized out of their fair claim to manhood. It includes gay men, who are my brothers and sisters, it includes trans men, who have been some of my closest friends, it includes men who are denied housing and other human rights, workers, artists, activists. But I would never hold that room to DENY other women the right to hold ANGER for the very LARGE CONTINGENCY OF MEN WHO USE THEIR GENDER TO ABUSE US. As human beings, men hold and exercise an immense capacity for doing harmful, evil shit, and they have, they are, and they will.

Women are oppressed by men and a patriarchal society, and you guys have GOT to stop devil's advocating away all the room that notion needs to hold. It's complex, but things like highly pervasive sexual violence CANNOT BE WAVED AWAY. we're not having a debate in the cafeteria of your high school anymore. Have some fucking perspective.

[contentloadingandstuff]

Relationship Headcanons - Ganyu x Male!Reader

A/N1: This is a new format, and as such, it includes just one character. Do you think it's comprehensive enough, or is there something I missed? A/N2: When I looked for a gif for this one, I found that the gif I used in the "at the dead of night" Ganyu fic is one of the first results when you search up her name. Nice to know I have somewhat of an impact, small as it may be. A/N3: While I was thinking of making a Christmas special, I decided that the best gift for you guys would just be getting posts out more regularly - so I will post them at least twice a week for the next three weeks at the very least. Anyway, happy Christmas, and enjoy!

Loving Ganyu requires patience and the gentlest approach, but her affection eventually blossoms on its own. She just needs a bit of time and guidance - it's her first time, after all. 

Being a notoriously hardcore worker, at first she'll be absent from home for most of the day. Her work-life balance is completely off the rails, and Ganyu will need all the help she can get in overcoming her centuries old habits. Now she has someone, remind her. Tell her that this special someone cares for her very much and would rather not see her worn out like an old pair of boots each night. 

An important skill you have to teach her is saying the word “no”. “No, I won't accept overtime”. “No, I have plans this evening”. “No, putting the entirety of Qixin paperwork on my shoulders is not ethical or healthy - Ningguang needs more than three secretaries”. In time, Ganyu will find it in herself to set healthy boundaries on how much she works. True, helping Liyue grow and prosper is her passion, but enough is as good as a feast. 

Walk alongside her on this road. Visit her at work, if only to give her a simple kiss on the forehead. Make sure she comes up from the underworld of bureaucracy to the real world. Bring her light snacks. Ask her about her day. Remind her that there is someone waiting for her back home - she will appreciate that beyond words. 

Working for the Liyue Qixing means basically swimming in Mora - especially that Ganyu leads a rather humble lifestyle. She does, however, live in a very nice multi-story house with a large garden in the most scenic part of Liyue Harbor, with a skeleton crew of staff to maintain in her absence (that being most of the time). But besides that, her expenditures are very small and everything she doesn't need or put aside, she donates to charity. 

While having a boyfriend is nice, she would feel much better if she’d be able to refer to you as her husband instead. Especially that she would prefer to save herself for the wedding night, and make your first “proper” time really beautiful and special. Ganyu is also a bit subservient to you, used to the idea that the husband is the head of the house - no matter if she has more money. At the same time, she is happy to be taken care of and protected, so as long as you treat her right, she’ll be comfy. 

While Ganyu isn't one to insist on much in a relationship, she will encourage you to live with her. Her house is big and quite empty… Having you there would liven it up and surely make it much cozier. Coming home to a warm hug and a kiss from her lover is a dream come true…

In terms of past times, well… Ganyu doesn't have much. Her work is her main pastime, or was anyway, and she didn't really see a reason to look for other things to do in her spare time. Just a few conversations with you made her realise that, while you have a broad range of things to talk about, she doesn't quite compete in that regard. Hundreds of years of paperwork made poor Ganyu quite a one-note person, but she will work on that, don't worry. 

And so she will frequently come up with things to do, together. Would you like to go to a museum? Or see a movie from Fontaine? You don't have to go with her, but… It would be really nice if you did!

Have any problems at school or at work? Personal Secretary Ganyu is on the case! She's had lots of experience in all sorts of matters and will gladly put it to use in helping out her favourite person succeed. She's a patient teacher and never raises her voice, no matter how hard it is for you to learn or do something. With her backing you up, nothing is impossible. 

Ganyu, by her own admission, gains weight easily, so while the urge to fatten her up with love and Qixins is huge, she'll be grateful if you hold your horses. Her thoughts always spiral into self consciousness about weight, so it might be a good idea not to include chocolate. However, a more tender approach to her and her beautiful body - with countless kisses and words of affirmation - may change her outlook on herself. If you do get her something to eat, make sure to feed her - she couldn't say no to you. 

Arguments with Ganyu are white crows in your day-to-day life. Being a timid and easy going person, it takes an impossible amount of pressure to make Ganyu lose her composure. If that somehow happens, she will be so upset that her anger will almost instantly fade into tears. She just cannot fight with you. You mean far, far too much for her to be angry. No matter if it's her fault or yours, she will end up apologising for it profusely, hoping to get past this dreadful road bump. Ganyu knows that she is prone to doing this, and will try to be a bit more decisive, only to fail spectacularly. No matter - she trusts you to never abuse that part of her character. 

And don't you dare, Ganyu has to be protected at all costs. 

At home, she’s a quiet and busy presence - even if it happens to be that time of the month. Ganyu doesn’t really struggle with illnesses or bodily discomfort that much, for which she is really thankful to the fates. At most, when afflicted by either, she’ll get extra sleepy and will love some extra cuddles to make the pains go away. 

You are probably the only person in Teyvat that has the right to touch her horns. They are indeed sensitive, but with the right guidance, the feelings of having these caressed are simply divine. Having their horns touched is a very intimate experience for Qilin, and Ganyu is no different. It will always be in bed, cuddled into each other and falling asleep, or while engaging in more lively bedroom activities. 

Ganyu has some friends and family, and they are quite happy to keep an eye on her. Xianyun will make sure that you are a proper man worthy of her disciple’s hand, and when she does confirm that fact, expect to hear all about Ganyu’s early life, as well as past hobbies and habits; knowing them might prove useful even in the present day. She will also make frequent visits, if that’s something you are okay with. Shenhe, on the other hand, will not follow you around per se - not you as a couple, that is. Because she will keep an eye on you. If you ever raise your hand at Ganyu, expect to be skewered and served at the next Lantern Rite’s banquet. But as with Cloud Retainer, if you prove yourself to be a good man, expect the same level of protection for yourself - Shenhe knows that your safety is Ganyu’s happiness, and if anything were to happen to you, her adoptive sister would cry her soul out. 

Zhongli, being Zhongli, will gladly officiate the wedding. 

The secretary is a girl that goes to sleep and wakes up early. She eats healthy and exercises just enough to keep herself from rusting over. Her house is perfectly clean, both thanks to her own efforts and those of her staff, and full of well-tended plants. She's a neat, well-organized and healthy little goat. If it makes you feel bad for your own lifestyle (and it should), Ganyu will be happy to help you care for yourself by cooking healthy meals for you, reminding you of your goals and helping you be consistent. For what? Why, for the delightful moment when you look at yourself in the mirror and finally smile at all the work you have done. Your happiness is her happiness. 

Acts of service are her form of love. If you happen to come home later than her, you'll arrive to a nice bowl of warm soup, held by your dear wife. You casually mentioned that you need to, say, iron your shirt tomorrow? Ganyu's got you - even if she had to wake up that little bit earlier to do it. Maybe you're talking about a difficult achievement in one of your video games? If you teach her how to help, she'll be glad to tune in and grind with you. Whenever you act surprised at her actions, or say that she ‘didn’t have to’, Ganyu will always replay with a kind smile and reassurance - she does it because she loves you. 

She's the most receptive to physical touch. Sometimes things are going badly and the reasons for it are exhausting to put into words. Those days Ganyu would like nothing more than a simple embrace, your hand in hers, a gentle kiss on the forehead. Your touch reminds her that everything will be alright, and that she does not have to brave the world alone anymore. 

Thanks for reading!