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kpoperotics · 2 days ago

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A night with Yuna x male reader

Yuna, your affectionate girlfriend. She enjoys you in a way she can't even describe, it's just that it's her first time and she's a little insecure.

Yuna, your needy yet insecure girlfriend is cooking for you, cooking is one of her hobbies she loves the most. She's making dinner for you, a simple one, nothing fancy; yet she pours her heart in what she does.

You're in the bedroom, chilling out on your phone when you hear sounds coming from the kitchen, so you decide to get up and go to help her if she needed. Once you're in the kitchen you see her walking around the kitchen, grabbing whatever she needs to prepare the food while she sings softly.

"Hey, do you need help?" you ask

"OH!" she gasps suddenly

oh, my god y/n, you scared me.. please don't do it anymore..!

She sighs

"and yeah... I'd appreciate if you could help me my love"

You giggle, helping her cooking.

"you're kind for helping me.." she whispers softly

"just doing what I like, I like helping you sweetheart"

You both make food together, enjoying each other's company. Then, once the dinner is made you sit and eat. You two have quite a conversation that evening

"so, Yuna, have you done what I told you today?" you know already that she hasn't done anything you told her, but not common things like buying the milk.

"eum... I-I.. well.." she stammers "I-I..."

"you didn't, mh?" you say

She looks down. Feeling ashamed "no.. I didn't.." she whispers softly, her voice trembling and insecure

"I told you... everyday you wake up, you have to look in the mirror, stare directly into your eyes and repeat to yourself that you're worth everything, that you're loved and that you're making it through everything"

Yuna looks down in shame and sadness

"sorry.." she whispers

"don't say that" You decide to go next to her, you know how hard it is for her to do something like that and you're not going to give up on her that easily

"b-but I'm a disaster.. I can't even say a simple phrase"

You look directly in her eyes, yet your stare is soft and understanding. "Yuna..." You envelop her in your arms, a few tears roll down her cheeks

"No Yuna.. don't cry" you wipe away her tears with your thumb. "Here come with me" you grab her in your arms and carry her to the couch, you sit and she stays on top of you, sitting on your lap; with your arms wrapped around her.

She's not crying her heart out, she's just letting some tears go, the weight of her actual mental health weighing on her. "Yuna, you need to believe in yourself, just like I do, I do believe in you and you know it"

You kiss the top of her head softly, then, you look directly into her eyes. Her eyes are wet and a little swollen, making her look cuter than she usually looks

"look at this girl, it's so impossible to hate her"

She looks at you, then she looks away. She leans her ear on your heart, listening to your heartbeat. The sound soothes her aching soul as she sinks into a full state of calmness and relax

You let her hear your heart beating, knowing how much this affects her positively

"Can I ask you something, Yuna?"

"yes..?" she answers

"Have you ever thought about us?" you ask

"about... about us..? well yes, I did sometimes... why you ask?"

"just to know, you know that I often think about us, about you"

"and that's why I love you.." she say softly, leaning in, capturing your lips in a soft delicate peck

You cup her head kindly with your hands, holding her in place as you slowly deepen the kiss. In short time, the kiss is deepened, you both pouring your heart in it

Yuna snuggles her body into yours as you hold her head in such a loving way. The kiss keeps going, just that way, not deeper but not shallower. The love in the air is palpable, the affection you pour in her soul every single second of your existence healing her from inside. You softly break the kiss, looking at her, beautiful like always.

"I'm so in love with you.." she says

"and so am I, my love" you answer

It's like the time has stopped, you two look into each other's eyes while you're also holding her tiny form in your arms. But then you decide to act a little bolder and ask her "Yuna, what do you think.. are you ready to make love?"

She blushes furiously, not knowing what to say at first "n-now?"

"yea, now" you answer, caressing her hair

She looks at you, the most insecure, scared yet trustful gaze. She doesn't know what to say, if yes or no. She's never had it before. She's virgin, and the idea of having sex with you now scares her

"you're safe here, you know that? I'm not going to hurt you I know it's your first time".

She looks at you, insecure. She thinks for a while as you keep caressing her and hold her close to you, then she says "okay, I-I think I can do it.."

Her hands are shaking, you hold them and bring them to your chest, tranquilizing her.

"you're sure, mh?"

She nods softly, snuggling into you. She trusts you but she's scared "will it hurt?" she asks, "it may hurt at the first penetration"

She sighs softly in anxiety "it's okay, I'm ready to have this with you"

So after only a few seconds, you start taking off her clothes, slowly removing her bra with just a hand, allowing you to admire her tiny perfect breast.

"I'm starting, okay?"

"o-okay.." she trembles, but she knows you're not going to hurt her

You lean in and start kissing around her breast, your kisses are soft and delicate. She trembles more and she holds you tighter, she feels hot flashes as her traumas, insecurities and fears kicks in, but she doesn't want you to stop, she wants to overcome everything she's endured.

You keep going, now licking her nipples carefully. You feel her trembling and breathing quite heavily, but you keep going knowing she's fighting so good.

"You're doing so good Yuna" you say, she smiles at you.

"Keep.. I kinda like it though" she answer, and so you keep going. You lick her breast a little more, while your hands are starting to roam lower on her body.

She starts to breathe slightly heavier than usual, letting few really soft moans as you keep. She wraps her arms around your neck to pull you closer, you can tell she's quite liking this.

"I think I'm ready for more" Yuna says, her voice just above a whisper.

"Are you?" you answer.

"Yes, I am.." She says. So after she confirmed, you lie her down on the bed, making sure she's comfortable with you. You take your space between her legs, lying down on your belly and covering her thighs with your arms. You slowly and kindly start licking her folds and as you do that Yuna can't help but let out a surprised and aroused gasp. She's still where she is, too shy and embarrassed to do anything.

You take her hands in yours, making sure she feels safe besides the pleasure you know she's feeling. You keep licking her folds carefully and expertly, knowing well how to move since this isn't your first time.

Yuna moans and she tightens her grip on your hands while you give her all that pleasure. "Oh my goodness I feel something.." she whimpers, you know what she's feeling even if she doesn't

"You're coming Yuna, it's alright. You're cumming"

She looks at you, even if she can't focus at all and tries to speak something "a-am.. I.. am I what..?"

She doesn't even get to finish her sentence that her juices are all already on your tongue.

She trembles hardly and almost screams as she comes, it's the first time she feels so good, this good. She's amazed from her orgasm.

She looks at you amazed "W-wow.." you look back at her, "you liked it?"

"I loved it" she answers.

"c-can I try to... to suck your dick...?" she asks with a slight trembling voice

You chuckle and caress her softly "of course you can sweetheart".

So as you allow her, she shyly kneels down in front of you, taking off your pants with your underwear. You would have never said she was shy and bold in the same time.

She looks at it in awe, it's big and hard and even if it's her first time, she knows it's because of her. She gets closer to your shaft, looking at you with her soft eyes. "Don't be afraid, do it" you say, while stroking her head gently.

So after few seconds of her staring at it in awe, she parts her lips and takes it in her mouth, slowly, only the head first.

You watch her doing her best, and considering it's her first time, she's doing an esteemed job. She keeps going, slowly and taking more of you in her mouth. Taking her time, taking things slow; and you let her, you won't force anything.

Little by little she sucks you completely. She's now doing an admirable job, taking you deeper in her mouth. She bobs her head up and down on your shaft, making you let out a soft moan of pleasure. She's happy she's doing a great job on her first time, taking a little more of you with each bob.

"Yuna you're an absolute goddess, how can you be so talented and it's only your first time.." You moan, while she doesn't pull away from your cock, too content to do a blowjob to you like this. She bobs her head slightly faster now, her confidence growing more and more with each bob and second passing.

"Oh Yuna, yes so good.. keep going" you say, caressing her head and encouraging her to do more again. She takes a short break, maybe a second or 2 before getting back on your length.

As she resumes her blowjob, she goes a little deeper, not much, but enough to almost push you over the edge.

"Yuna, I'm close, get ready for it.." you whimper.

Yuna closes her eyes again, not knowing what she's going to have. Excited to find out, she keeps going, her eyes closed, her lips running on your cock.. and then the moment comes. You come in her mouth. Her eyes open wide and she stops there where she is, her lips on the head of your cock.. trying to pull out every last drop of your cum from your balls.

"Wow Yuna.. you certainly have a talent here.." you say, amazed from her skills.

She smiles at you shyly "T-thank you y/n" she looks at you happily "I'm glad I was good"

You smile at her back. "next time, we'll go ahead.."

She gets up and leans on you "okay" she says, happily.

...After that, you're both on the couch in each other's arms watching a movie together.

#itzy smut #yuna smut #itzy #yuna #kpop #kpop smut #first time #fanfiction

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buckysfaveplum · 1 day ago

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doomsday

summary: missions don't always go according to plan, sometimes you lose people- that's the job. bucky told you that himself.

pairing: bucky barnes x female reader

word count: 3k

warnings: violence, character death, um yea this one's sad. OH and Steve is dead in this (I mean he was like 90 something in endgame...)

a/n: GUYS omg i missed youuu i hope you remember me. its been like almost two years? i moved to ireland and started grad school! things are different. buttt here’s a new fic cause i’m back!!! ANGST omg im sorryyyy.... idk I wanted to right something that hurt okay okay bye (:

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You hated funerals.

The suffocating smell of formaldehyde and roses wafted through the wake hall. The sounds of distant friends and relatives feigning grief, playing up small interactions with the deceased as more than just pleasantries while siblings and best friends' voices seem to be gone with a lack of words to express their suffering. The stale cookies and donuts in the hall, as if someone’s lover isn’t lying in a casket 50 feet away. All wrapped up in black dresses, suits, and handkerchiefs.

You hated funerals.

Today was no exception. An agent lost on a routine mission in Guam, taking out an arms dealer terrorizing a village. There were loose connections to Hydra, but just petty violence and shootouts for nothing. It shouldn’t have resulted in the loss of an agent. But sometimes things go wrong. A gun barrel stalls, someone trips, a civilian happens to be in the way. Sometimes people die. That’s how you ended up here.

Sarah was a good agent, a great one. She was top of her class at Westpoint, went straight to the FBI, and was recruited into SHIELD- all before 30. She was good- too good for a slip-up like this.

As speeches wrapped up, family and friends began to say their goodbyes. A line formed at the casket as people poured their hearts out for the redhead you once called a friend. You waited patiently at the back, making sure you were one of the last. You always did. Maybe out of respect, perhaps guilt? Who knows. You always felt guilt, even if there was nothing to be done. There was guilt.

Finally, as the small crowd left the room, flooding into the hall outside, you made your way to the front. Laid out before you, Sarah’s curly and wild hair was in two thick braids on each side of her head, a blue dress covering her as well as a soft cream cardigan. She looked beautiful and peaceful. But she was dead. Your friend was dead. No makeup or pretty clothes would lessen that blow. The plush velvet of the casket seemed to soften the prison that her body would rest in. At every funeral, you were reminded of how you wished to be cremated.

“I’ve never seen her hair so flat,” you turned to see Bucky standing beside you.

“You know, even wet her hair always seemed to spring up. Had a mind of its own,” you said, your gaze resting on him.

He was clad in a simple black suit, an older set you’d gotten him at a vintage shop. Something familiar. A simple cream button-down, no tie. It was simple, but that was him. What was most striking though was his serene demeanor. It never seemed to settle with you how unaffected by death he was. How easily he was able to gather himself and keep going. You couldn’t blame him though, 90 years of pain, death, torture, and violence will do that to you. You’d only seen him torn up once. And it was beyond devastating. Steve. “You okay, kid?” he asked, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

He was your partner, in every sense of the word. In the field, as a friend, in life. He was everything. Your taut shoulders melted under the firm comfort of his vibranium arm. You could rest in its embrace a thousand times and never cease to crave its solace when away. He was your rock through every debriefing, call to family, black dress, and smeared mascara. Who knows what you would be without him?

You rested your head on his chest, breathing in the potent smell of his old cologne and something that was distinctly Bucky.

“I hate funerals.”

——

“Do you ever think about dying?”

Bucky’s grip on you tightened slightly at your words. Wrapped in the soft linen of your duvet and the sunlight streaming in through your windows, his body lay around yours. His short choppy locks were tousled fresh from his slumber. The previous night’s sleep had yet to let go of his consciousness fully, still cozy and relaxed in your shared bed. His vibranium fingers continued to play with your hair as he considered your question.

“Not anymore,” he said.

Your face scrunched in confusion at his words. Your fingers traced gently over the thick scars on his left shoulder. They mangled and twisted, sprouting in angry red from the line where his skin met vibranium. Shuri had done her best to soften the tissue when replacing his arm, but only so much could be done.

“I did a lot when I was first drafted. I was scared of it then. And in those early days under Hydra. It was all-consuming. But at some point, I wasn’t scared of it, I embraced it- prayed for it,” your fingers froze at his words. It was nothing new to you, you had spent countless late nights and early mornings recounting the abuse of his days as the Winter Soldier. But hearing him say flat out how he wished to die. That was jarring. “After the Blip, I’ve just become a bit numb to it. I don’t really think about it if that makes sense. It could always happen.”

His hands danced down your spine as if his words were simple.

“You expect it?” You asked, propping yourself up on your elbow.

“It’s the job, Y/N. It comes with the territory. Sometimes you lose people. And it could always be you,” he said, giving you a soft look. “You know that, doll”.

“I just, I don’t expect it in the field you know?” you relaxed a bit, regretting the subject you forced upon him.

“Hey, maybe that wasn’t the best way to put it,” he said, giving you a ginger smile as he leaned close and cupped your cheeks in his hands. “Death has just followed me for a long time, doll. I mean I’m a 106. I’m just not scared of it anymore.”

You tucked yourself into his chest, his words soothing the fears swirling in your mind. You knew the job was dangerous. That any mission could be the last. You just hoped it would never be him.

“Why do you always pick the heaviest topics of discussion early in the morning?” he asked, his voice still groggy from sleep. He smiled as you chuckled against his chest.

“Probably cause I’m hungry, Plum,” you said, turning to lay on your back as you smiled up at him.

“Yea? What could we do about that, huh?” that devilish smirk of his could stop your heart anytime and you’d be grateful. “Pancakes? Clinton St?”

You nodded eagerly at his suggestion before taking his hand and slipping from the bed.

——

The rumbling of the quinjet shot up your spine. Sam and Bucky’s relentless bickering filled the steel jet as you came closer to your destination. Your gloved hands worked at strapping your knives to your thighs as they quarreled over how best to stain wooden beams in Sam’s living room during your and Bucky’s next trip down to Louisiana.

“No! NO! Buck, that stain doesn’t go with the accent wood in the kitchen! I already told you,” Sam said as he fixed his shield to his back. You chuckled as you walked over to them. Your backup squad, full of agents fresh from SWORD’s training academy, snickered at the two men as Bucky rolled his eyes.

“The beams are in your living room, what does it matter?” He said.

“I wouldn’t take any interior design advice from him, he wanted a purple couch in our living room,” you said, wrapping your arms around Bucky’s waist. Sam laughed as he turned to grab the mission report. The jet was drawing close, entering stealth mode and preparing for landing.

“It was a plum color,” Bucky grumbled, nuzzling his face into your hair.

“Okay team, huddle up!” Sam said. “This is just a simple in and out. We gotta get these hostages out safely so no risky moves- I’m lookin’ at you, Buck.”

Bucky threw his hand up in defeat, scoffing jokingly under his breath.

“I’ll swoop through and scout entrances, Squad Two you’ll be with me for direct combat. We’re clearing out the building. Squad One, you’ll be with Y/N and Bucky, you’re getting those hostages out. You bring them straight back here, got it? There’s four so it shouldn’t be too strenuous,” he said, closing up his report before slipping on his cowl. “Alright team, let’s show ‘em what we got.”

——

Fluorescent red light filtered across your face as you slipped through the hallways. Half the squad led ahead of you, banging on doors in search of the hostages. Bucky hung close behind you, the rest of your squad keeping your entrance open for your escape. His hand rested on the gun strapped to his hip as he kept an eye on your blind spots.

Watching your back on the field was second nature to him. Protecting you, be it on the subway or in an active battle zone, was something he felt born to do. A reason to survive all those years under Hydra.

After several doors, your team stopped; having heard the pleas for help on the other end of the steel doors, they backed up to allow room for an agent to blast the lock. You stumbled back into Bucky, tripping on your own feet. His arms caught you before you could even glance at the floor. You felt his fingers gripping your hips and fidgeting with the straps on your thighs as you straighten.

“Some reflexes you got,” you whispered to him.

“Can’t let my babydoll fall,” he said, kissing the back of your head before his focus shifted back to the lock, now falling to the floor.

The agents flooded into the room, pulling hostages out and bringing them back into the hall. As they streamed out, you realized something was wrong. You only counted 3.

“Where’s the fourth hostage?” you asked.

Bucky commed Sam, hoping he’d scanned the place and found a lead. As he spoke, you gathered the agents, giving them an order. Lead them through the building, get out to the other half of the squad, and get them into the jet. You’d meet them on the other side. You and Bucky would find the last hostage. The agents fled, leaving you and Bucky alone in the dark hallway.

“Where are they?” you asked. Bucky sighed, as he grabbed a knife from his hip.

“In the lab in the basement, must’ve been the first to get taken,” he said.

The hostages weren’t nobodies. Prisoners were taken from SWORD on a mission to squash a newly established radical group. A group that seemed to resonate with the ideas of Hydra. This mission was all too familiar to Bucky, and all the more upsetting. You gave his free hand a firm squeeze before you turned and bolted to the lab.

You could feel the heaviness of the lab as soon as you entered the basement. The looming presence of the sterile room filled the hallways as you stalked toward it. Bucky was unusually quiet as he covered you from behind. You knew this was triggering, it had to be. He would always tell you he was beyond triggered episodes, having gotten a firm grasp on his PTSD. But you knew better. The subtle tremor in his brow told you so.

As you reached the eerie room, you stilled. Bucky came up behind you, resting a hand on your waist as you assessed the space. Metal shelves lined the walls full of jars, syringes, and test tubes. Sleek steel tables with rags soaked in blood, white grimy cabinets full of scalpels and needles, and an operating table at the center. The floors were coated in grot, each crack in the tile stained brown. Your mind couldn’t help but wonder if this condition was what Bucky was used to for all those decades.

Realizing the area was clear, you entered. Quickly, you spotted the hostage. Strapped to a chair in the corner with an IV jabbed into his arm. Bucky squeezed your arm as he headed over, slipping his knife back on his hip.

You felt a pit growing in your stomach. You pulled your gun gently. This hostage didn’t look familiar, you thought Sam said he was a brunette, not blonde.

Bucky began to break the straps holding the man down. Slipping the IV gently from his arms, Bucky eased him up into a sitting position. He spoke to the man calmly, explaining to him who you were and that he was here to get him out. He seemed off, but Bucky just assumed it was the experimentation. He was wrong.

“Do you know who we are?” Bucky asked, helping the man up.

“I know who you are, Soldat,” the man said.

A chill ran through your legs, almost toppling you over. You reached for your gun, but the man was quicker. He was able to log four bullets into Bucky’s chest before you could get one in his skull.

Shots rang out in the room, flooding your ears. As soon as you pulled the trigger, the man fell to the ground. Your bullet nestled into the side of his head. Your hands were shaky as the gun fell from your grasp, clattering across the floor and sending echoes through the rotting room. Of course it was a trap. The rubber of your boots squeaked as you sprinted your way over to your lover. He stumbled back against the filthy wall, his hands pressing firmly on the holes scattered across his chest.

As soon as you reached him, his legs seemed to give out. Everything in you tried to keep him up, your hands gripping the straps of his suit to keep him from surrendering to the floor. But he was too heavy. You followed him down, gathering him in your arms and holding him close. His breathing was labored and rough. Squeaks and coughs escaping from his punctured lungs haunted your ears, taunting you as you desperately tried to get him to stand.

“Baby, baby come on… you gotta get up, love,” you said, pulling him as you tried to get his attention.

His eyes were fixed on the mess in his chest. Blood bloomed across the fabric of his blue suit like a watercolor painting. His hands slipped from their place over the wounds and grasped yours.

“Y/N…” he said. You froze at his voice. It was weak and unsteady. His grip on your hand was tight, too tight. He was always so gentle with you. As if you were glass under his hands and he was afraid you cracked. Now, he gripped you so hard you were afraid your bones would fracture.

“Bucky, you gotta get up. You’re gonna be okay,” you said as you tried to stay calm, but your voice failed you. You commed Sam, “Sam, Sam! Bucky’s down, I need help please!”

You tried your best to stop the bleeding, tearing fabric from your pants to stuff the wound and slow the blood. But it didn’t seem to help. Bucky’s vibranium hand rose to your cheek, holding you steady. You mumbled to yourself, beginning to panic as blood spilled onto your hand; it stained the groves in your knuckles and cakes in your fingertips. Bucky’s coughing finally brought you out of your spiral. Blood began to trickle from his mouth.

“Doll…I can’t- I can’t breathe,” he said, his voice hoarse from the blood filling his throat.

“Bucky, hang on for me okay, please,” you said, your hands grasping his face and pulling yourself closer. You pressed a firm kiss to his forehead. When you pulled back, you could see it in his eyes.

“Y/N, I’m scared…” you felt bile rise in your throat at his words. The reality of the situation began to set in. Sam’s glitchy voice rang through your coms but you barely registered it.

“You’re okay, plum. It’s okay, I’m here. You’re gonna be okay,” you said. Your voice was frantic and distraught. The need to reassure him he would make it was overwhelming. But was it for him or you? Perhaps if you kept repeating it, doomsday would stay at bay.

His hands returned to yours, grabbing them and pulling you close as another cough racked his body. Blood speckled across your hands. You were white in the face, all the color drained.

“I…I love you, kid,” he said, his grip loosening.

“No, baby, you’re gonna be okay. Sam’s on the way, it’s-”

“Y/N, I love you,” your hands gripped his tighter, wishing the firm hold he had minutes ago would return as his hands became limp in yours.

“… I love you, Buck,” you said softly, resting your forehead on his.

You pulled him close, kissing his lips one last time. You felt his breathing slow, his lips still. You didn’t pull back, you couldn’t. You knew what would await. A thick sob slipped through your chest.

You tucked yourself further into his body, pulling him close and wrapping your arms around him. His head rested tucked into the crook of your neck, your hand tangled into his hair. You closed your eyes as you pressed your face into his hair, your free hand stroking his back and you rocked his now limp body. And you waited for Sam.

——

The smell of formaldehyde was the same, but no roses- Bucky preferred lilacs. You didn’t want the standard service, but SWORD insisted. No speeches, except for the pastor leading the service. You didn’t want any speeches, you knew Bucky would agree.

You sat in the back, behind the small crowd of agents, friends, and the team you had come to consider family. Sam kept looking over his shoulder, keeping an arm behind him and resting on your knee. Perhaps he was trying to stop its shaking through the service or just to bring you comfort.

The service was simple, it was quiet. It was small. But it didn’t change anything.

You hated funerals.

**taglist has been reset! let me know if you'd like to be added**

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #fanfiction #tfatws #fanfic #marvel

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alexseanchai · 2 days ago

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the closest I can think of to people being able to hold accountable anonymous voters around the country is people collectively holding accountable those individual Trump voters who, though anonymous to all the other Harris voters, might, by reason of existing family or social ties, actually listen to the specific individuals approaching them.

let me use myself to illustrate the problem: I keep re-re-re-scripting in my head a phone call to my mother, who I'm 99% sure has voted Trump three times now, though I only know for certain about 2016. the current iteration involves asking her to compare the Trump and Biden administrations to the sheep and goats parable, like, assume Jesus named his six most important political issues in Matthew 25—provide food to the hungry, drink to the thirsty, welcome to the stranger, clothes to the insufficiently clothed, care and contact with the outside world to the sick and the prisoner—and which four of the last eight years accomplished more of those, which more thoroughly, which more effectively? cite your sources.

and if she were the honest, compassionate Christian I thought she was when she was raising me to be one, that would work!

but if she were, it would have worked summer of 2016.

so anything I could say in that phone call would just boil down to saying either "I told you so" or "do you believe me now?", in a way that makes sure her disability access needs trump mine—which would be an important contributor to almost guaranteeing I'll have a meltdown—and incidentally hands her my phone number. there are very good reasons why she does not know it.

sooo yeah I'm not convinced that's even going to vaguely resemble me holding her accountable! which means it's also shit as a tiny fraction of a percent of the project of Harris voters collectively holding Trump voters accountable; back to the drawing board

I could try talking to any of the other Trump voters in my life, I suppose? but other than being pretty sure my parents are far from the only ones, I don't know who any of them are

(leftist LARPing to the detriment of actual me. reminding myself of that might actually help, thank you)

Every time you think to yourself, "I want the people who voted That Way to learn their lesson," I want you to come back to this post and ask yourself, "Is that really more important than marginalized people's safety? Am I engaging in Leftist LARPing to the detriment of actual people?"

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glisten-inthedark · 2 days ago

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The way Mike says “I say it,” during his argument with El about how he doesn’t say ily is very intriguing to me. He says it with so much….gravity? Solemness? Almost….somberness?? It’s so hard to pinpoint but there’s no warmth in his eyes and it almost feels like a mantra, and he does this little nod at the end of it like he’s telling himself, “Yep, that’s right, I do say it.” He says it like saying it will end the conversation. But it doesn’t.

I agree with other analyses that say he’s trying to gaslight himself in this scene too because what an odd delivery.

Also, have we ever really broken down why this entire scene proves that him not saying I love you isn’t born out of insecurity or, like he later claims, saying it would make El realize he’s just a loser soon? Because for one thing, it’s not like this is something that is disappointing El but she’s keeping it to herself and only confiding it in others. She makes it so damn clear that she wants Mike to say it, that it’s reached the point where she doesn’t think he loves her romantically anymore—if he loves her romantically but is insecure, then El confronting him on not saying it to her should actually make him feel more secure because it’s confirmation that she wants me to love her romantically. And it’s also showing him that he’d actually lose her faster by not saying it than by saying it so what the hell does he have to lose?

But more importantly, Mike insists that he does tell her he loves her.

So how the fuck would that work, Wheeler?? You’re afraid of saying the words I love you to her because you think you’ll lose her faster if you do but also you insist that you do say it?? So if you want El to believe that you do tell her you love her even though apparently her being told by you that you love her would facilitate you losing her??????

Bullshit, Michael Wheeler!

And I think you were the one who pointed out that Mike doesn’t say, “You know how I feel about you,” but rather, “You know what I think of you.” which is like, such a huge Freudian slip imo, especially because he then goes on to say only 2 things about her: she’s the most incredible person in the world, and she’s a superhero.

Nothing about how he feels about her. Just what he thinks of her as. And guess who also calls El a superhero? Her other friends. Mike says two things about El in this scene that literally anyone else in their party would. Compared to Will’s van confession where he talks about how Mike makes him feel—like he’s better for being different, like he’s not a mistake, and gives him the courage to keep going. That’s fucking romantic love right there.

Lastly I want to praise Finn Wolfhard for his microexpressions during that entire argument because I rewatched it over and over for this comment to try and find words to describe how he delivers that one line, but damn after El says, “You can’t even write it,” he has the most fleeting microexpression of panic that is honestly so impressive—it’s this eye twitch/muscle flex by his right eye and this tiny little flinch forward, it almost looks like the right side of his face minutely trembles, A+ acting right there👏👏👏

Hello!

First of all I'm hella sick and I just took some medicine so if I don't make any sense you can blame it on that lmao.

First of all, I just rewatched the scene to see if I could pick it up and my diseased riddled brain did notice what you're talking about. Firstly, he says with such certainty that you'd almost believe it if it weren't for the fact we saw how he signed his letters to El.

And secondly, is almost as if he's trying to convince himself and her that he does say it, probably because as you said, he expected this to end the conversation.

And see, it bothers me so much that people (the GA) don't notice the inconsistency in Mike's behavior because had not one, but two moments that should tell him exactly what he claims he needs to hear. The first is when El tells him point blank that she loves him too, and the second is this one.

Like, what sense does it make that he says he doesn't say the one thing he knows she wants him to say because he's afraid that it'll hurt if he loses her, but him not saying is clearly what's hurting her therefore might be the thing that can make him lose her, so WHY DON'T YOU SAY IT, MICHAEL?

And it's like you said, he says be does say it like he believes it, like he thinks he does which opens another Pandora box, because is like you said, he's telling El he says he loved and then turns around and says he didn't say it because he's afraid to lose her so WHICH IS IT? Can't be fucking both.

And yup, I'm the one who said that about him saying what he thinks of her and not what he feels.

He never says he likes her or anything remotely singular to her personality, is just about the things he thinks she can do which I still insist connects to her he associates El with physical and emotional security that he lacks.

But yes, he never said what she really needed to her, he said the opposite as a matter of fact.

I hope this made sense lmao

#stranger things #mike wheeler #byler #will byers #byler analysis #byler endgame

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coffeegnomee · 14 hours ago

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ugh sometimes watching Kab pov I get real sympathetic for how difficult it must be to be in her brain and just be so confused all the time and exhausted about masking her feelings to make other people trust her and her pain in wanting to be vulnerable and receive vulnerability and feel deep reciprocal love.

But then she says shit, really fucking mean and toxic shit towards mental health and healing and it triggers my own fight or flight and i become a ball of rage.

And like, I do get it. When you start your journey of mental health healing you often become the toxic one as you throw the shit people have said to you at everyone who also has similar mental health issues as you. (been there done that) Doing it to process your own rage at being told these things, or thinking, out of desperation, that if you can just get them to fix themselves quickly, you can fix yourself quickly. The bullied becomes the bully.

But then time passes and you realize this shit is hard to overcome. (or maybe it won't ever be overcome! and that's okay!) And you stop being toxic and you start being compassionate, to yourself and others. And eventually you start to heal and become confident in your own self worth and the validity of your emotions.

But before then it's the fucking worst place to watch someone be in. And that place is unfortunately where we are right now.

below is a short transcript of the convo this reflection is based off of. it can be triggering so like, don't feel obliged to read it.

11/10/24 kab vod: "I have no idea what's happening"

1:42:00 KAB: “what about how he makes me feel? Why is it so important what he feels and to accommodate everything he’s feeling? Why do i have to conceded to that???”

1:44:00 “I’m sick of having to accommodate to everyone else’s actions”

realizing your masking is hurting you is one of the worst realizations (imo). bc the mask keeps you safe, but if you can't process or give worth to your real emotions, it's not serving you.

so she swaps from processing her own feeling to being angry at zam.

1:47:00 She gets he needs time and space, but “We don't have time for to try and sit and process your emotions properly. Do it after we deal with this fucking issue [...] sometimes you just need to toughen up”

Fucking hell the trigger i just felt for just toughen up.

1:48:00 “i need to know what he’s thinking so that we can work together. In a team!”

what team!?!

“‘Does zam really hate communication more than he likes spawn and the server’ literally. Like pick your priorities dude.”

I’m going to fucking throw up. Because yes. Actually yes. Unfortunately and actually yes. He's gotten a lot better but like.

1:53:00 “I dunno. I wish he would care about himself as much as i care about him. Hard to see him like this [pause] maybe he does need more nurturing than i can give him bro ugh. I am just not- i am not good at that shit. I think it’s stupid [..] when you have a job to do [..] just shove your emotions away for a bit. And then you can process them later”

I was going to say this is just eclipse, but I just realized that maybe it's just this is exactly the perception Zam had of Vi: that Vi just wanted him to move on when he couldn't. All his deepest fears of what Vi wanted from him are being personified into a new person.

(also he is shoving his emotions away and that's why he's not processing it and giving you an answer for why he "doesn't know"????? but since he's not a perfect ball of joy and masking to you and because he is doing what you can't (shove emotions away) you are in rage)

1:54:00 “But it’s like, while there’s a life or death situation that literally determines the entire server we don't have time to be like, holding your hand, you know? Like, you're an adult” ughh fuck. being broken is inconvenient for others and age is seen as an invalidation to any of your real brokenness. If you're old you no longer have the right to be broken. Can we please change this narrative? thx

“If he cared enough he would actively try and do something to help himself in this situation”

Interesting choice of words to say "he would try to help himself if he cared" complaining about others not "working" on themselves (and you can never know if someone is working on themselves bc you're not in their brain) helps nobody bc you can only control yourself.

“You just want to sit and feel bad about yourself” no that's what you're doing kab

“He got me to fucking open up to him and pour my heart out and is now turning his back on that entirely. That’s what i’m actually more upset about”

oh the naive belief that because you pour your heart out to someone they must reciprocate. That is the risk you take when you are honest with someone about your feelings. They are at no obligation to reciprocate ever. Never ever. But that doesn't mean your feelings aren't true and it doesn't mean you shouldn't have done it. Love is a risk.

But also she feels she was forced into it. Forced to be vulnerable and she hates the vulnerability. She doesn't remember (or believe) that Zam promised to not use it against her. She isn't willing to give him the chance to not use it against her. He simply knows and that is a threat.

So love turns into spite. Instantly. And she doesn't want to talk to him anymore. And decides that she will just be fake to him.

oh girl. keeping the mask on doesn't help anything.

“I’ve lost a lot of respect for him today. I’m done trying to impress him”

and so the mask returns. and healing stops.

#lifesteal spoilers #gnome rambles

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howlingday · 2 days ago

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Jaune: Got the latest issue of X-Ray & Vav, so I'll read that when I get back...

???: So I told her, ...

???: Haha! No way~!

Jaune: (Thinking) Crap! It's Nora and her friends! I never feel safe when it's the three of them together. And it looks like they've dragged Ren into this, too.

Nora: (Laughing, Smiling)

Jaune: ...

Jaune: She's been getting really close to me a lot lately... She's like... like...

Jaune: Like a bear. One that keeps digging into a rabbit's hole.

Cardin: Yo~!

Russel: 'Sup~!

Yang: Hey...

Ruby: Yo, 'sup~!

Nora: Oh, hey.

Ren: What up~?

Cardin: Dude, I am so tired~!

Ren: Ah. He's looking for sympathy.

Russel: No, really! Training was savage~!

Nora: You skipped out on training.

Yang: Prof. Goodwitch was piiiiiiiiiissed~!

Cardin: Pssh! She's already scary as it is~!

Russel: Completely impossible to reason with~!

Jaune: ...

Jaune: How do they do it? How do they just blend in with girls so easily? Weak guy like me can't keep up with that...

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

Nora: (Playfully slapping Cardin)

Cardin: (Laughing) Stop that~!

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

Jaune: (Clutches his chest)

Cardin: Yo, Valkyrie... Offer's still on the table if you want it~.

Nora: I don't want it, though.

Russel: C'mon~! Give him a chance~! Heck, we can double date, right, Ruby~?

Ruby: WHUH?! U-Um...

Ren: If you'd like, I can join, too~.

Russel: See~? Everybody's gonna be there~!

Nora: I'm not going.

Cardin: Ah, really? Why don't you come with us to the bullhead at least and then we can talk about it there~!

Jaune: (Glaring at the group)

Russel: Huh?

Jaune: OH NO! THEY SAW ME!.

Cardin: Who's the weirdo?

Russel: He's been giving us the stink-eye.

Jaune: Wh... What do I do?! It's too late to run away, right? I mean, it's already awkward enough as it is, but...

Yang: Yo, Vomit Boy~!

Ruby: Yuh-YO~!

Jaune: ...

Yang: Whatcha doin' over there~?! C'mon over~!

Cardin: Huh? You know this guy? (Grins) What? You need somethin~?

Jaune: (Gulps) N... No...

Jaune: I... I...

Nora: ...

Jaune: NORA! LET'S GO!

Cardin: Huh~?

Jaune: Crap! I said that out loud!.

Cardin: Could you say that again? I don't think I heard you right~.

Russel: Say it again. Nice and loud~.

Nora: (Stands up) Let's go... Leader~!

Jaune: (Blushes)

Nora: Later~! (Runs to Jaune)

Cardin: W-Wait...

Russel: Huh?

Yang: Heh heh... Ready to go, Rubes?

Ruby: Huh? Oh! Y-Yeah!

Ren: Oh? (Follows the group) I guess we're doing this today then.

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

Jaune: Is it really okay to just leave them there?

Yang: Yeah. Those guys are so annoying.

Ruby: S-So annoying!

Ren: So, how's the drawing, Jaune?

Nora: Yeah! How's the pervert drawing~?!

Jaune: Wh-WHAT?! I... I draw, but I don't draw that!

Ren: There's no shame in pursuing erotica, Jaune.

Nora: Pervert Vomit Boy~!

Yang: Ew~! Vomit Pervert~!

Ruby: Vomit Pervert~!

Ren: I think you have what it takes to be one of the greats, Jaune.

Nora: Especially with that shaggy hair~!

Ruby: Shaggy hair~!

Ren: I can feel your aura just bursting with potential~!

Yang: That's not the only thing that'll burst from him~!

Jaune: I don't fit in with them at all...

Jaune: (Smiles)

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

Jaune: (Mumbling)

Ren: Hm? Did you say something Jaune?

Jaune: N-Nothing...

Ren: Really? Because I thought I heard you say-

Nora: (Looms) LEADER LIKES TO MUMBLE A LOT. IT'S BEST IF YOU DON'T HURT YOURSELF TRYING TO HEAR HIM.

#rwby #ijiranaide nagatoro san #jaune arc #nora valkyrie #ruby rose #yang xiao long #lie ren #nora's arc #cardin winchester #russel thrush

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zepskies · 2 days ago

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@lamentationsofalonelypotato

Omg yay!! I'm so excited to dive into your thoughts on Part 2. As you saw, it's a bit of an emotional rollercoaster. 😅

Alright it is devastating right off the bat and I know, I know I should be worried about her and I am. I am SO worried, but my mind completely went somewhere else when Dean PICKED HER UP. The man is so strong and I am just...

LOL girl I don't blame you for being distracted. The mental image of Dean manhandling in Protective Mode does things to me too. 🤣

I was prepared for this coming but dang... "I hope you've learned your damn lesson" is a line that breaks my heart more than I should. It cuts to the quick for me, because to me it's worse than just saying "I told you not to do something." It's not heartless, but it's enough of a rendition of it that it just makes you go "oh wow."

I love this observation. That's exactly what I felt inherently when I was writing that line. It felt more powerful to me than "I told you so" or the like. It has the feeling of that, but with more of an edge, even though you know he cares about her.

I was literally screaming. It's like he wants her to kill him. I know that Dean loves her so much but oh my goodness it's about to get so real for him. Man is about to be torn to shreds.

LMAO I remember someone saw the preview of Part 2 and commented, "the quiet, but devastating anger he'd be reckoned with if he said that to me." And I was like, YEP, that's exactly it. Mans playing with his life. 😅😅😅

You just wanna go:

Even though she's upset, Dean is still her best friend and the man she loves and even though he's the one that made her feel this way, she still wants to be comforted by his presence. I always think that, this particular thing is so bittersweet to read about in relationships. Or at least that's how I took this bit 😅.

That's precisely how I intended it! Now looking back, I feel like I should have had her leave him by himself in his room to sleep in another room. But at the time I was writing, I was thinking that for her in particular, despite this being the biggest fight they've had so far in their relationship, he's still the one that makes her feel safe after a bad hunt. 💙

Side note: I am happy that the reader didn't have to tell the woman about her son. That would have broken me to read that especially after the reader promised that they would find her son in part one.

Oh my God, yeah. I considered having her be the one to face her "mistake" and talk to the mother, but I felt that having Sam take that on would be better, even as it added to the reader's guilt (and it would keep the story moving).

Oh my word. I love you friend, but WHY!? Dang it, this pricked at my heart. It's so good, so heart wrenching. I feel so bad for him, but it really just reinforces why he "lost it" with the reader earlier. Goodness the trope of the reader getting yelled at by someone who loves them about putting themselves in danger really is just such a good one for Dean and you do it so well.

Lmaooo I knowww, I'm sorry! All the angsty feels in this one. 😭 Now you see the full weight of why Dean popped off the way he did. He just feels things so deeply, it comes out sometimes in anger, when at the root of it all, it's fear.

Thank you though for that compliment! I think this is the only time I've written that Dean trope. Because I honestly think it's overused, but I tried to do it in a way that made sense for the ultimate growth of their relationship and who Dean is.

His apology is really just pricking at my heart. It's so good, so forthcoming so honest. And the thought that he was "better off alone" is so on brand for him. I know that we've talked about that before, but it really does fit him, and I love how you weave it into this fic.

Aww thank you! 😭😭 Weirdly enough, that was one of my favorite parts to write? Maybe I just like the heartfelt hurt/comfort breaking into fluff moments. The "better off alone" thing I thought was implied throughout the later seasons of the show after Dean lets go of Lisa and Ben, so I wanted to explore that deeper here, even though it hurt my heart to write it. 💙

She's crying... I'm crying. It's really just tears all around and such a good moment. Also the him saying "You don't have to cry for that"... YES SHE DOES.

Everyone's crying!! 😭 YES ABSOLUTELY SHE DOES -- and she's a verified crier. I see a lot of fics where the reader is tough as nails, "doesn't cry very often," but I wanted to create a reader character who is a badass, but still has a soft heart. (Latinas also can be very emotional, but not to say we're adhering to stereotypes around here LOL. 🤣🤣)

This is just overall a really wonderful vulnerable moment that you've captured that feels real for both the reader and Dean. Especially when she talks about "working with my heart, not my head." I think that if it were me, I would also be "working with my heart." I don't think that I'd be able to take myself emotionally out of the situation that they're in all the time because they're hunters.

Thank you so much!! 🙏🏽🥹🥹 Yeah same, and it's definitely a contrast with Dean, who obviously cares about helping people and takes way too much responsibility on his shoulders, but he's been doing this so long and seen so much that he's learned to compartmentalize a bit more.

Hoping for some FORESHADOWING 🙏🏻👀

Oh girl yesss! If you make it to the last two stories in the series, remember this moment. 😏💜

Also the salsa lesson is just so cute. And the way you took a really emotional moment to a cute salsa dance to a steamy session to a giggly awkward moment is great. The transitions make it seamless. And the song choices were perfect! When the reader was describing what the song meant I was like, "oh yeah, that's him right there. There's the man officer." lmao 🤣

Ahaha thank you so much!! I LOVE me some salsa music, and it was a fun challenge to try and transition between these scenes. From one writer to another, I always appreciate those "technical" observations. 💓💓💓

Oh big YEP!! "Devorame Otra Ves" was the first song I thought of when the salsa idea came. Dean, in fact, is that guy. 🤣🤣

I was again so emotional reading this, because oh my word, poor Dean just reliving the moments where the reader almost died.

Sorry for jerking the angsty chain again there! 🤣 Poor guy, he went through an ordeal just as much as she did.

And also the final scene 👀🌶️ I should have known from the gif at the beginning tbh lol.

LMAO Oh yeah, the gif was a dead giveaway for what was coming later on. 😏 And thank you for shouting out the “What, now you’re shy?” line! It's a special kind of intimate, I thought, for her to be kind of embarrassed about what she's just done, but Dean like, "uh-uh, you're not getting away that easily." 😂😂

Also I love you for using a Chicago Fire gif!! loll Was a big fan of that show back in the day.

Not to mention that the sex was also giggly towards the end and I really just love that. And the love confessions KNOCKED ME OUT.

Awww thank you! I love me some fun giggly romantic smut. 😂

Fun fact on her confession! When she says I love you twice, she's actually saying it in two different ways:

I love you, you’d said. I love you ("te amo," you're my love) and I love you ("te quiero," you're my family), more than you can believe and understand.

Oh I'm riding a train of emotions, and all of this was so good. Especially Sam walking in on them. I was laughing so hard at Dean's reaction:

Lol but seriously, I really appreciate that, thank you!! This story was definitely an emotional rollercoaster. I'm so glad you enjoyed it though!! 💕 ...And Sam's little mishap LOL. Dean has very little shame -- something he's going to prove later on again in the series. 😂

It's all wonderful my friend! And I can't wait to read another fic from this universe! 😊

Thank you SO very much!! Honestly you don't know how happy it makes me that you're enjoying this series so far -- and spoiling me with such lovely and thoughtful feedback. 🥰💕💕

Devour Me - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized/Latina!Reader

Summary: When you and Dean start to press each other’s buttons, both of your tempers ignite. To make up for it, you give him an impromptu salsa dancing lesson…one he didn’t exactly ask for. (18+)

AN: Here's Part 2! **Read Devour Me: Part 1

Song Inspo: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique. But really it’s “Ven Devórame Otra Ves” by Lalo Rodriguez. (You’ll see why.) 🤭

Word Count: 5,400

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Blood, character death and violence, smutty smut, angst, Dominican slang, and tons of sexy fluff.

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Part 2: "Telenovela Style"

Your resulting scream of agony is as unforgiving as the ground when your knees buckle, hitting the hard cement.

Andy grips you with the strength of a monster.

Then he holds you down as he drinks your blood.

No matter how you struggle and whimper, you can’t push him off, and you’re getting weaker by the second.

Until Andy is ripped away from your neck, and is taken care of the way all vampires must be. He doesn’t even feel the blade coming.

When you’re able to look up, Dean stands above you with thinly veiled fury. He doesn’t have time to consider what he’s just done.

He bends to gather you up into his arms, all the while trying to stamp down the panic clenching his heart. He calls your name, but you can only make weak sounds as your bleary eyes meet his.

“Dean,” you manage. The ragged wound in your neck is bleeding profusely down your chest and shoulder, seeping into your shirt. He takes your hand and clamps it hard against your neck, even though it makes you whimper.

“Gotta stop the bleeding,” he says, apologetic but firm. “Keep pressing.”

In your stupor of pain, you don’t realize that your screech woke the entire nest. Dean has to lock up his worry; he looks up and finds his brother and Cas already fighting a hoard of angry vampires.

Dean carries you over to them and lays you down against the wall with the other humans. He keeps a protective line in front of you, but he decapitates a vampire before she can sink her fangs into Sam next.

The two of them work together, and with Castiel’s smiting power behind them, the angel and the two men are able to clear the rest of the nest.

By the end, only you and two of the women being held captive are still alive. The third girl’s heart just finally gave out. Sam takes the survivors to the nearest hospital.

Meanwhile, Castiel approaches where you sit up against the inside of the barn, barely awake, while Dean kneels with you, holding you to his chest. He meet’s Cas’s blue-eyed request with a nod. So Cas stretches out a hand and touches two fingers to your forehead.

You’re healed in an instant. Dean marvels, like he always does when Cas displays his power. Dean is able to breathe a little easier, the vice grip on his heart easing as he touches your neck.

The tan skin is once again smooth, if still stained with blood. You blink back into wakeful consciousness.

He shifts so he can see your face. “You okay?”

You meet his eyes but can only nod. His jaw is still tight and tense, and you can’t blame him.

You know you’ve messed up. Big time. You nearly got everyone killed, including yourself…and now, you have to tell a mother that her son is dead.

Dean helps you up, holding you by your arms and waist until you’re steady on your feet. You have a hard time meeting his eyes, but when open your mouth to apologize, he beats you to it.

“I hope you’ve learned your damn lesson,” he says.

Your gaze snaps up to his. “Excuse me?”

Dean’s hands go to his hips as his brows raise at you.

“Next time, when I tell you to hang back, I mean that shit. Hang the hell back,” he all but growls.

You tilt your head at him as your irritation begins to spark. Meanwhile, Castiel is the one who backs up as he glances between you and Dean uncertainly.

“I made a mistake, but that doesn’t give you the right to tell me what to do,” you shoot back. “I was a hunter long before I met you.”

“Yeah, well, color me surprised that you’ve made it this long,” he snaps.

Your temper flares hotter. “You know, you’re not so goddamn perfect either.”

“Never said I was,” Dean says. “But when my gut tells me something ain’t right, I need you to fucking listen. Otherwise, we get a day like today.”

His words are edged with grit by the end of his little rant, and you don’t appreciate it. Your lips purse in anger.

“I don’t care what that legendary gut tells you,” you sass back. “I’m not a little girl, and you’re not my damn father!”

Dean raises incredulous brows at the way you’re shouting at him. He crosses his arms.

“What’s this, some kind of Latina temper?” he asks snidely.

You truly become incensed at that.

“Oh, you want to take it there?” you ask, as your eyes narrow. “Que sin vergüenza tú eres. Sigue jodiendo conmigo, coño. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”

Dean won’t admit it, but in that moment, he’s a bit intimidated by the quiet threat in your voice. Still, his fuse is lit, and he’s way beyond curbing his internal filter.

“Oh, I’m sorry, does this telenovela-style tongue lashing come with subtitles?” he snarks.

You let out an incredulous breath. Your eyes begin to sting.

“You’re such an asshole!” you shout back. There, understand that?

You turn away from him before your frustrated tears can fall, but you stop short once you notice Castiel dragging out the bodies of the dead…including Andy. Your throat constricts, and you begin to stalk out of the barn.

Dean calls your name in frustration.

“What?” you hiss.

The only thing that makes him hesitate is seeing the state of you when you turn back around. His anger crumbles, and maybe something in him breaks when he sees your tears. They’ve welled up in your eyes, and a few of them carve a path down your cheeks.

You’re still covered in your own blood, and he hates it. He hates it more than anything.

Later, you see the state of yourself when Sam returns with the Impala. In the reflection on the backseat window, you see the blood dried down your neck, staining nearly half of your shirt.

You see the black rings of your mascara and eyeliner around your eyes. You look a mess, and you try to wipe underneath your eyes. It’s a fruitless effort.

After you all finish burning the bodies, Dean starts the long drive home. You insist on stopping to tell Rachel Campbell about her son, but Sam says he already took care of it when he drove into town.

You frown, but you no longer have the energy to be angry. You further withdraw into yourself, and your lower lip trembles as you look out the window. Through the rearview mirror, Dean sees more tears slipping down your face.

What Sam told him (but he won’t tell you), is what one of the survivors said. One of the mated pairs had taken Andy…to “adopt” a son of their own.

That night is quiet and tense in Dean’s room. You have to wash your hair all over again, and scrub the blood and grime from your body until only your skin remains. But you don’t have the energy to do more than braid your wet hair afterwards and pull on your lucky Journey shirt, which is still full of holes.

Dean knows that it’s bad when you need the “dreamcatcher,” as he’s called it in his head. You’ve never had a nightmare while wearing that shirt, or so you claimed a while back.

You wear it over some long pajama pants instead of your usual shorts, or better yet, nothing at all. But he can see what kind of mood you’re in. Things are unsettled as you both get ready for bed in silence.

He notes the way you turn to face the other side in bed, maybe to avoid him. Though if you really wanted to do that, you could’ve gone to your old room.

So in more ways than one, Dean takes some solace in the fact that you’re still next to him. And he decides to give you some time and space.

He goes to bed and tries in vain to sleep.

In the morning, Dean’s woken by the familiar smell of coffee…and the less familiar sound of loud salsa music.

What the fuck?

After he brushes his teeth, he puts on his robe and slippers and heads down to the kitchen, where he finds you in a seemingly better mood. You’re mopping the floor, of all things. You’re out of your pajamas, instead wearing a loose shirt that falls off your shoulder and some spandex shorts.

“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo,” you sing softly along with the music as you dance from the kitchen to the living room. Your phone is connected to a Bluetooth speaker on the coffee table.

Dean starts to smile, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorway to watch you.

At an instrumental break with a run of conga drums and trumpets, you pause in your mopping to do a little twirl as you dance, with a soulful roll of hips and a flair of salsa steps. It makes Dean’s smile kick up into a smirk.

He walks in on purposefully light feet until he’s sidled up behind you in the living room.

“Nice moves, Shakira,” he quips.

It startles a shriek of surprise out of you as you whirl around. Dean’s smile hikes up into a grin, but it soon fades when he remembers the way your scream rang through his ears last night. The way his heart dropped into his stomach, and his head swiveled at the sound. And he saw you go down hard.

Then the rest of it tumbles through his mind—what he had to do afterwards in order to save you. How he’d did it without really thinking, his panic and determination blocking out almost everything else when he’d grabbed the kid. The monster, he forcibly reminds himself.

“You trying to give me a heart attack?” you ask with a hand on your heart.

Dean forces himself to smile a little. “Sorry. But might I remind you, not everyone here’s an early bird.”

You give him a wry look.

“You’re the only one around here who sleeps past 10 a.m. Cas dipped out a while ago, and Sam’s on a run.”

But you graciously grab your phone to lower the music to a more bearable level. Dean doesn’t yet know this about you, but this—listening to music, dancing, cleaning—it’s all your way of coping…and releasing as much of your pain, terror, and regret from yesterday as possible.

You then look up at him more guarded. The two of you exchanged a lot of unsavory words last night. In fact, it may just be the worst fight you two have ever had in almost three years of knowing one another.

Dean senses the shift in you, and his amusement fades. He just can't let things stay like this. He won't.

He hazards drawing closer and touching your arm.

“Look…I’m sorry for snapping at you yesterday. I know I was being a dick,” he says. “You’ve just gotta understand something.”

You wait for him to continue with furrowed brows, sensing that whatever he’s about to say is hard for him.

“There’s a reason I don’t do this. The uh, relationship thing,” Dean continues, clearing his throat. His thumb swipes along your arm. “It’s not just this job. It’s my fucked up life. I tried to warn you before—”

“Dean,” you say with a sigh, but he raises his hand.

“Please, just…let me say it,” he says. “You know the spiel. But things can change on a dime. Even on a damn milk run, like a dusty nest of vamps.”

You know that. You know you could’ve died yesterday, and he doesn’t need to remind you of that fact. Before you can start to get petulant again though, Dean continues. His jaw is working, like this next part is more difficult for him to admit.

“Trust me when I say, us being together is dangerous, for both of us,” he says. “For a while I, uh…I started to think Sam and I were better off alone.”

That casts you into dismay. Because you know Dean isn’t lying. He’s really contemplated spending the rest of his life devoid of love, so he won’t have to lose it.

Dangerous, for both of us.

You realize then what Dean’s really saying. He’s afraid…afraid to lose you. You see it in his furrowed brows, the downturn of his lips, and whatever pain he’s trying to hide in the depths of his eyes.

And just like that, the water works start. You can’t quite keep your tears at bay as you hold onto his shirt. He lets out a resigned sigh as he holds you by your arms.

“You don’t have to cry for that,” he says, a bit teasing.

“Have you met me?” you sniff. But you manage to look up at him with your glassy eyes. “I’m sorry too. God, I’m so sorry, Dean.”

Your fist clenches in his shirt when you remember Andy, latched onto your neck, and how Dean had to save you. You know he’s remembering it too when his brows furrow, and his gaze falls away. You reach a hand for his cheek.

“I know I fucked up,” you admit. “I was working with my heart, not my head. I just…”

You wanted so badly to help that kid and his mother. You also know that Dean understands; you see it in his eyes. He holds your hand to his cheek and brushes his thumb across the back of your hand.

“I know,” he says. “I really am sorry, baby.”

The problem is, you didn’t just see your own mother in Rachel. She hadn’t been much older than you. And when you imagine a life beyond hunting, more than anything (no matter how much you shove down the idea), you really do want a family of your own someday.

It’s just…days like yesterday remind you why that could be a very bad idea.

More of your tears bubble over, and you head willingly into Dean’s arms. “Me too…”

He holds you tighter than ever. His hands rub down your back, tangle in your hair, and he drops his lips onto your hair. You sniffle, wiping your face dry in his shirt. And for a while, the two of you have peace in the relative quiet.

Music still plays from the speaker though. And when another salsa song starts to play on your playlist, you start swaying. A smile works its way onto Dean’s face.

“You can’t help yourself, can you?” he teases.

You smile into his chest. “We should go dancing sometime.”

Dean just laughs. “Oooh, no.”

“Oh, yes,” you reply, batting your lashes up at him. You slip a hand on his shoulder and into one of his hands. He’s forced to hold you as if the two of you were about to start Fred Astair-ing across the living room.

“Have you ever danced before?” you ask. “Like real dancing.”

“Not salsa, I’ll tell you that,” he quips.

“That’s okay. I’ll teach you,” you reply with a coquettish smile. “It’s just a few simple moves.”

Dean gives you a wan look. “You made it look anything but simple.”

You blush at that, but you meet him with a pout of disappointment. You don’t let up, even when Dean frowns. He huffs at you in resistance.

“No,” he insists. You just brush a gentle thumb along his neck, biting your lip in askance.

But the longer he stares at your beautiful, hopeful eyes, the more cracks form in his resolve.

Eventually, Dean breaks with a sigh, and a shake of his head.

“You’re too much, you know that?” he mutters.

It’s then that you know you’ve won.

So with a happy squeal of excitement, you clap your hands and move to stand next to him so you can show him the basic steps of salsa dancing.

You make him take off his robe and slippers, leaving in his shirt and plaid pajama pants. Then you instruct him for a few minutes, correcting his footing and getting him to move on a beat. You’re pleasantly surprised that he has some rhythm.

Dean sighs once again. How the hell did we get here? Heat crawls up the back of his neck as embarrassment starts to set in.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” he grumbles.

“You’re doing good,” you encourage, with a growing smile. “Now come on, feel the beat in threes. One, two, three. One, two, three…”

Once he sort of has the basic steps and turns down, you move to stand in front of him. There you show him how to hold you, how he’ll move forward, and you’ll move back. It takes a little while, but you slowly move through the combinations, then do a little twirl underneath his hand.

When he pulls you back in without faltering, you give him a beaming smile. “Very good!”

A subtle grin raises his lips at your enthusiasm. He also feels his face heating up at the praise.

But you pause when a certain song filters through the speakers. It’s an old one (and it never fails to make you blush), but you love it.

“Ooh, yes,” you exclaim with delight, and you turn up the volume.

“What’s this one?” Dean asks.

“Ven Devórame Otra Ves,” you inform him. Not that he knows what that means. You sing along a bit with the first couple of verses while you encourage Dean to lead you in the dance.

This song is just slow enough for him to attempt it, and the funny thing is, he doesn’t feel all that uncomfortable with the steps now. He’s starting to get a feel for how to move, both with his feet, and with his hands as he guides you by your waist, holding your hand close to his chest. Still, Dean’s also curious about the lyrics you’re singing.

“What does it mean?” he asks.

You huff in amusement. “You sure you want to know?”

Dean raises a brow. “Well, now I gotta know.”

You giggle at that, though you correct his steps when he leads with the wrong foot.

“Okay. It’s about a guy who’s pretty much a player,” you say with a smirk. “His bed has been a revolving door of hot ass, but he keeps thinking about this one woman who used to have him turned inside out…”

Dean’s lips curve at the familiar image you’re conjuring. He manages to turn you under his hand, then pull you back to him in one smooth motion. He looks down at you with a deeper gleam in his eyes. You bite your lip, soothing your hand from his shoulder and down his arm.

As the song’s verses come, you translate for him. And for Dean, your voice in itself is a spell.

“Even in my dreams, he says, I thought I had you devouring me. And I dampened my white sheets remembering you,” you begin. Your words are smooth like black velvet. “In my bed, no one is like you, who draws my body on every corner, without a piece of skin left over.”

Dean is getting hot under the collar as you push away, dragging your fingertips along his back as you turn around him. When you come back into his line of vision, his attention is attracted to the sway of your hips, clad just in those little spandex shorts. He has to clear his throat a bit.

You eventually return to him with a warm hand against his chest.

“Ven, devórame otra ves. It means, come devour me again,” you continue, looking up at him from under your lashes, “Come punish me more with your desire. Because I kept my love for you…because my mouth has the taste of your body.”

You smile at the laser focus of his green-eyed gaze. “Come devour me again.”

You push off with another little spin. When you reach for his hand, Dean yanks you back into him, eliciting a gasp. The move disorients you for a moment, but you giggle and hold onto his arms. Your hands glide up to rest on his shoulders.

He’s holding you flush against him, and as you shift a thigh between his legs, you unintentionally graze against his hardening length. You look up at him with a smirk.

“You’re a little…stiff,” you say, both flirtatious and teasing. “Let’s loosen you up.”

You shake his shoulders out and try to get him to relax. Dean raises a wry brow, because you know damn well whose fault it is that his body is coiled tight. But you place his hands on your hips as you move back into the dance.

“Feel what I’m doing there?” you ask. He looks down on you with growing heat.

“If I could do that, we wouldn’t be together,” he rumbles.

You try to stifle a laugh as he pulls you in close again, just swaying for a bit. Soon enough, you grin knowingly when his hands start to slide lower on your ass. His head bows to yours, ready to meet you with a kiss.

You stop him with your finger on his lips.

“Question: do you consider yourself more of a tits or ass man?” you ask him. You’re half teasing, but still curious. Dean snorts at the question.

“More of a connoisseur,” he replies, smirking.

“Ah.” You nod sagely, and you point between him and yourself. “So this is like a ‘sample the menu’ situation.”

Dean’s smirk deepens. “Sweetheart, you’re a goddamn buffet.”

You splutter laughing…and that’s when he finally pounces. He claims your lips with greedy passion. His hand winds into your hair, gripping tight and ruining what’s left of your loose ponytail. The strands coil around his hand in messy curls while he also gets a healthy grip of your ass through your thin shorts.

You smile into his lips, even as you acquiesce to him guiding your head to the side, so he can slip his tongue against yours. You grip his arms more for stability while he manhandles you, kneading soft flesh and making pleasant tingles run up your spine.

After a little while, his mouth burns a hot path away from yours. He noses down your neck, skimming his lips across your skin. It sets your nerve endings on fire and gets you breathing more shallowly in his ear. You cling to the back of his shirt, holding him close.

Often he’s one to leave love bites of varying degrees, wherever he sees fit. But for a moment he stops at the crook of your neck, just pressing a lingering kiss.

He lets out a deep breath, and you realize he’s probably thinking about where you were bitten. The wound is gone, but it doesn’t change what’s imprinted in both of your minds.

A softer smile grows on your face. You trail your fingers up into his hair, massaging the back of his neck.

“I’m okay,” you remind him. Dean hums deep in agreement. You know, however, that he’s still thinking far too much.

So you slide your hands down, slow between the dips and planes of muscle in his back, and rest at his hips. Your thumbs delve under the hem of his shirt and tease the skin there.

And you start slow, pressing wet, nipping kisses of your own to his neck while you inch his shirt up. You feel his smile on your neck. His grip on your hip flares to life. Still, he lets you tug his shirt up and over his head. Your loose shirt comes next, revealing the same black satin and lace bra you wore the first time he ever got you topless in his arms.

A fan favorite. Dean grins. He reaches around to go for the clasp, but your firm push on his chest takes him by surprise.

He falls back onto the couch with a grunt, looking up at you then with raised brows. You’ve got a mischievous little smirk on your face that heats his blood and makes his cock twitch.

You take out the rest of your falling ponytail, shaking your hair out wild. Then you let your hands drift down your neck, over your clothed breasts, and finally to your little shorts.

Dean rubs his palms down his thighs and watches. A smirk forms across his lips as you slide the fabric down the curve of your hips. It leaves you in a red thong, familiar to him by the little tear it has on the front. (Again, his fault.)

You climb aboard his strong thighs to straddle his lap, using his shoulders as leverage as you sink down. You make sure to rub yourself teasingly against his clothed erection. He groans in appreciation. His hands fly to your soft, thick thighs and squeeze.

“Aw, I like this,” Dean says, half on another moan as you grind down a bit harder on him.

“Yeah?” you tease. You take his face in your hands and capture his lips with your own. Your tongue invades his mouth, and he welcomes you with a deep hum. It’s slow and hot at first, but Dean feels the loss of you when you break from his lips.

Instead, you treat him with the same trail of kisses he gave you, along the curve of his jaw and down his neck. But you don’t stop there.

Your hands move over his chest with purpose, tweaking over each hard nipple while your mouth burns a wet line down and down his sternum. Dean groans at your ministrations, but lets you leave his lap to slide down to the ground, between his thighs.

“What’re you up to, baby?” he asks, despite having a very good idea of it. He catches the playful, yet determined gleam in your eye.

You pause, briefly leaning back up to give him a heated kiss. You part from him with a grin.

“Isn’t it obvious?” you ask. “I’m gonna devour you.”

Dean stares hard at you as goosebumps break out across his forearms.

Oh, fuck yeah.

A giggle bubbles in your throat at the expression on his face. But you continue, taking his pants down his legs first, before his boxer briefs.

Dean’s body tenses in anticipation. You’ve gone down on him before, but somehow it’s different this time. He feels like every single one of his nerve endings stands at attention along with his dick. And you’re taking your sweet time working him up.

Even when his cock is finally free, you sooth your hands down his legs first, maybe teasing him a bit as you drag your nails down his inner thighs. Dean makes a strained sound, though he tries to hide it by clearing his throat.

Your gaze flicks up to his with a little smile. He’s holding the back of the couch; his fingers are digging into the old cushion in effort to keep still for you. But his eyes stare into yours like a man starving. You know what you’re in for after you have your way with him, but for now, he’s quite literally under your control.

So you take him in your hands first. Dean groans as you tease him with light touches, soft movements, your thumb slowly circling over the sensitive, weeping head of his cock. It's torturous enough to make him drop his head back against the couch, closing his eyes tight.

And suddenly, he blinks them open again.

“Shit,” he utters, when you finally take him into your mouth. Your tongue is soft and wet, your lips move over him steadily, and your hands caress whatever your mouth can’t take, even teasing his balls.

You work him over relentlessly, until he can’t help but spill everything he has to give into your waiting mouth. When you suck off and swallow whatever remains, Dean’s heart stutters like syncopated conga drums.

He shudders and struggles for breath afterwards, watching your every movement—from wiping your mouth to shooting him that satisfied little smirk.

You press one last kiss to the inside of his thigh before you raise from where you’ve been kneeling on the hard ground.

Dean manages to lean forward and helps you up by your elbows. But then he pulls you back into his lap and kisses you deeply. He doesn’t let up until you’re panting with him.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” he manages to say. His voice is deep and laced with grit.

He’s still panting heavily. You giggle and press your warming face into his neck.

“What, now you’re shy?” he remarks. And he has to laugh. “Come back here.”

He brings your face back to him with a hand on your cheek. For a second, he just looks at you. His thumb strokes across your full, thoroughly kissed bottom lip.

“Say it,” you encourage softly. “Whatever you’re thinking. Right now.”

A smile tugs at his lips. He can’t help but oblige you.

“You’re too damn much,” he says again, both gruff and fond. Despite how you drive him up the fucking wall sometimes, he doesn't think it'll ever be enough for him, what he has with you.

Because this is something he'd almost given up on. Didn't think he'd get to have it. And it almost scares him, how much he wants you. How much he...

“I love you,” he says. His thumb traces along the familiar curve of your cheek.

It hasn’t been all that long, but he knows. You weaseled your way in without even trying. The least he can do for you is be honest.

Your fingers curl around his wrist, holding his hand in place. You tilt your head at him.

“Oh, yeah?” you ask.

Dean hesitates, but he nods. “Yeah.”

A smile grows across your face. “Eh, I’m still on the fence.”

At his flat look, you laugh and lean in for a kiss. He allows it, a little petulantly. But you make up for it with sweet affection. Your gentle hands stroke down the column of his neck, down his chest. You then lean back so he can see your face.

“Yo te amo,” you whisper. “Te amo y te quiero, más que tú puedes creer y entender.”

Dean smiles. He doesn’t understand all of it, but he gets the important bits. He hears it in the tone of your voice. He sees it in your eyes. They shine with emotion, but mainly with love.

Dean kisses your hand. He lets go, just so he can slip his hands around you to finally unhook your bra. He tosses it across the room without bothering to see where it lands.

You do though, and you meet him with a slightly narrowed gaze.

“Are you making a mess of my clean bunker?” you tease.

His lips curve as he kisses you again, while his hands each get a generous handful of your breasts.

“Ah, hello, ladies." He grins. "Miss me?”

You can’t help but laugh. He’s such a dork sometimes.

But you hum when his thumbs brush over hardened nipples, then drag deliberate circles over them, and pinch just hard enough to make you whimper in pleasure. The sensation zips through you, enhancing the flood between your legs.

“I fucking love that sound,” Dean mutters, and licks a hot path in the valley between your breasts. His lips move against your dewy skin when he says, “Do that for me again.”

When he takes a nipple in his mouth and nips a bit hard, you have to oblige him. Your voice rising high is music to his ears.

So he goes for your panties next. You help him get them off and return to his lap. With a breathy moan, you revel at the feeling of his fingers probing into your wet heat.

However, you and Dean have been too engrossed in one another to notice the door of the bunker unlocking, and heavy steps down the spiral staircase.

It’s Sam who’s back from his run. Unfortunately, he soon has to shield his eyes upon reaching the living room.

“Damn it, Dean!”

You yelp in surprise, but Dean laughs and holds you close to shield you from view. As a bonus, it presses your breasts against his chest.

“All right, Sammy. Go to your room,” he chides playfully (but he means it). “The adults are havin’ a moment.”

Sam scoffs. “You’re having a moment on the goddamn couch!”

“Sorry,” you say, though it’s muffled in Dean’s neck. Your face is red hot with embarrassment.

Sam rolls his eyes heavenward and tries not to see anything else on his way to his room.

But Dean’s chuckle reverberates through your chest as his hand goes to your cheek. He encourages you to pull back, so he can see your face again.

When he does, he smirks at the scarlet blush dusting your cheeks and neck. You bite your lower lip, but despite your embarrassment, you’re happy.

Your own words replay in your mind when you lean in for another kiss.

I love you, you’d said. I love you and I love you, more than you can believe and understand.

AN: Yay! I hope you enjoyed Part 2 of the “Midnight Espresso”-verse! I loved writing this one so much. I know we're just doing fanfic here, but I genuinely put my heart and soul into this one. ❤️

Also, here are a couple of Spanish translations:

(Note: other Spanish-speaking countries may interpret certain words differently.)

[During their fight]:

“Que sin vergüenza tú eres. Sigue jodiendo conmigo, coño. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”

Translation:

“You’re shameless. Keep messing with me, damn it. Then you’re going to see who I am (<- This is Dominican slang. It essentially means fuck around and find out what I'm made of.).”

[Song lyrics: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique]:

“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo.”

Translation:

“I don’t know tomorrow. I don’t know tomorrow. If we’ll be together, if the world will end.”

Keep Reading:

Next in this series is "Chico Malo" ("Bad Boy"):

Summary: You catch Dean red-handed—with one of his favorite episodes of Casa Erotica.

▶️ Next Story: Bad Boy (Chico Malo)

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Dean Winchester Masterlist

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#reader appreciation #lovely mutuals #lovely review! 😍😍#seriously thank you!!#devour me feedback

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blessedarethebinarybreakers · 2 days ago

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Hey, just today I've decided to stop seeing my parents and siblings for an indeterminate amount of time, and to possibly even break off all contact if it has to come to that. They refuse to acknowledge me as the person i really am and I can't keep sacrificing my mental health and me up for that. Will you please pray for me? And if it's not too much to ask, do you perhaps have a bible passage to strengthen me during this time? I still want to stay close to God, because I know the way God created me was correct and good. Thank you

~Micha (they/them)

Hi Micha,

What a difficult, courageous thing you've done. I will absolutely hold you in my prayers; I pray you will find relief in having finally made the hard decision, and continue to live into flourishing.

The Bible story that comes to my mind is a strange one, only told by Mark (3:20-35):

Very early in Jesus's ministry, as he gathers followers and gains attention, his family is apparently very concerned.

Perhaps they know this path puts him in danger; or maybe they just worry about his "lifestyle" reflecting badly on them. Either way, they know they have to "take control of him;" after all, he's clearly "out of his mind" (v. 21).

So his mother and siblings hurry to a house where Jesus is teaching, but it's packed so full they can't get inside. So they send a messenger in and also call for him from outside (vv. 31-32). I can just imagine their calls: "Please honey, this isn't like you! Who influenced you to go this way?" "You're the man of the house, you can't just abandon us to hang out with queer friends and say edgy things!" "What will the neighbors say?"

But when Jesus is told his family is out there calling to him, he answers, “Who is my mother? Who are my siblings?” Looking around at those seated around him in a circle, he said, “Look, here are my mother and my brothers. Whoever does God’s will is my brother, sister, and mother.”

We know Jesus's love for his mother. I am sure he loved his whole family with the infinite depth of God. Yet he risks losing them, says hard words he know will probably hurt, because if they make him choose between them and living out God's will, he has to choose God's will.

We don't know whether he ever reconciled with his siblings; they don't appear anywhere else in the Gospels. Maybe this was their last encounter, not even face-to-face. Maybe his brothers could not abide his abnormal lifestyle and chose to cut him out of their lives.

But we do know Jesus reconciles with Mary, the mother who proclaimed divine revolution as a newly pregnant teen (Luke 1:46-55) — yet who seems to waver now, either out of fear for her son or failing to understand that what he's doing now is the revolution.

But I like to imagine when Mary hears what Jesus says about family, the implication that she is only mother to him if she continues to help him in living God's will, she immediately corrects course. She will keep supporting him, even when she doesn't fully understand.

Sure enough, Mary supports him all the way to the cross, all the way to the grave. They are present for each other, comforting each other through the worst moment of both their lives.

[Jesus even fuses his biological family and his found family together from the cross. Now that he will no longer be the "man" in Mary's life who offers her legal and social protection; and now that he won't be there to love on his Beloved, he offers John to Mary, Mary to John. "Woman, here is your son. John, here is your mother!" (John 19:25-27)

Is that queer or what?? As his final act on this side of the tomb, Jesus essentially makes his mother and lover mother-in-law and son-in-law! ...I can't not think of the AIDS crisis, where dying partners would pass their beloved's care over to surviving loved ones.]

___

Jesus always prioritized chosen family over biological family. A biological relative can be part of your chosen family, but belonging to that family is no more automatic for them than for anyone else.

Jesus shows us that when family fails to support us in doing God's will — in this case, taking up the invitation to co-create yourself with God, to commit your own small rebellion against the status quo, to prophecy resurrection as embracing your queerness brings you to new life — they cease to be family in the way that matters most.

That rupture can be mended at any point, if and when those who did harm seek to make amends — and receive consent to do so. Whether or not reconciliation ever takes place, we seek out others who will celebrate us and support us in our efforts to glorify God with our lives.

___

God of love, Hold Micha close in this time of loss and and changed relationships. Comfort them in the knowledge that this rupture is no fault of theirs, but caused by parents and siblings refusing to embrace all they are, and failing imagine a fuller Kin(g)dom, a vaster love, a more colorful Image of God.

Spirit of courage and wisdom, guide Micah towards those who will delight in all that they are. Help them build a family founded on love, equity, and mutual support. Wherever their journey takes them, make your unconditional love, your unwavering presence known to them.

Amen.

#mark 3 #who is my mother? who are my brothers?#jesus #family tag #parent tag #rejection

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burningcheese-merchant · 24 hours ago

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"I'm Sorry" - BurningCheese Short #9

Gonna be traveling somewhere soon, probably won't be back here for a few days. Wanted to leave you all with a story before I go. (I wrote it sometime ago, I've just been waiting for a good time to drop it. I guess now will do haha)

Plan on answering asks and posting BurningCheese kids when I get back (I have almost 100 asks in my inbox and I feel really bad for leaving them there. I'm genuinely sorry to you all, I actually am reading what you send me, I promise I won't leave you hanging forever. I answered a couple today and I'll keep it up soon). In the meantime, eat this short story where we see our favorite couple take an important step together, and Burning Spice take an important step himself

"I'm sorry."

Golden Cheese blinked. "I... Pardon?"

"I'm sorry," Burning Spice said again.

"You're sorry?" she echoed. "Sorry for... what?"

He paused for a long while before he answered. "For Beast-Yeast."

"For Beast-Yeast?" Slowly, she turned to face him, eyeing him critically. "And where is this coming from, exactly?"

"Why does it matter?" Burning Spice asked, keeping his gaze trained on the bustling city far below. "I am sorry. That is all I have to say."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "And... what? You think that means anything? You think one, single apology will change the past? You think it's enough to atone for all of your heinous crimes?"

"No."

"Then what audacity is this? Why even say it?"

"Because I want to," he said. "It's as simple as that."

Another long pause, longer than the last, came and went before Golden Cheese spoke up again. "Why should I even believe you when you say such words?" she asked. "What reason do I have to think you're being sincere?"

"Someone such as I saying it at all ought to be reason enough. You think I'd ever utter something so soft and pathetic to anyone else, for any reason? Even under penalty of death?"

"...Hmph."

A third pause came - shorter than the first two, because Golden Cheese couldn't bring herself to wait any longer than that.

"And what makes you think I forgive you? Or that I would ever even consider doing so?"

"You allowed me into your kingdom," he said, still refusing to look at her. "Into your palace, even. Here we stand together, watching your subjects from afar. You snuck me in so no one would see or notice me. Perhaps you don't forgive me at all... but you've let go enough that you've allowed yourself to do this much. Haven't you?"

"I..."

The fourth pause made itself known, hanging over the two of them as they stared down into the busy streets of the Golden Cheese Kingdom. It showed itself out when, at last, Burning Spice turned to look at Golden Cheese.

"I'm sorry," he told her one more time. His voice was soft. Quiet. In his eyes and on his face were emotions that only he himself would know how to read.

Golden Cheese looked right back at him, her eyebrows knit and mouth set in a slight frown. She said nothing, instead only nodding slowly, tentatively - unsure of how to acknowledge him, but willing to do so nevertheless.

When the fifth pause came, it weighed down on them both terribly, though who felt its burden worse was hard to tell. The silence was thick, tense, awkward. Granting cover to all the words Golden Cheese couldn't bring herself to say. Making up for all the words Burning Spice didn't have left to give.

Everlasting, like the city bathed in gold and neon lights waiting beyond the balcony railing and stretching on endlessly into the horizon.

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

I will let you all decide for yourselves what led to this moment, and what happened afterwards.

#cookie run kingdom #burning spice cookie #golden cheese cookie #burningcheese #goldenspice #burning spice crk #golden cheese crk #merchant shorts

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milkmily · 16 hours ago

Note

Hello <3

Could you pls write Shoko x (female) reader where reader is feeling a little insecure about her body and Shoko praises her while making out (and maybe fingering)

Yes I can 😈 also sorry it took me forever I've been busy these past months 😭

Shoko Ieiri x Fem! Reader | Request Open :) |

You felt horrible.

You just felt horrible about yourself.

Maybe it was the outfit you had on.

Or maybe it was because on the way to work, someone pointed out how ridiculous you looked with what you had on. It was some random people you don't even know.

Their opinion shouldn't even matter, you don't know them. Yet, it affected you so much. Honestly it was probably because you woke up in such a bad mood that their words got to you so easily. You Honestly thought your skirt looked pretty with your shirt. Your color leggings and heels matched it all. But apparently, some people don't like it. And well, their opinions mattered to you a lot.

You were soon at work, grabbing your white coat and putting it on. You were presented with Shoko who walked up to you and kissed your cheek, her gloss left on your cheek. “Morning, I got you your favorite drink.” She says as she points at the table.

You nod as you smile And start to button up the coat. She gives you a puzzled look and asks, “Why are you closing it up? Though you hated it?”

“I'm cold. The skirt isn't helping it.” A lie. Shoko hummed and said, “it isn't cold. Keep it open.” She moves her hand on top of yours to stop you. You looked at Her and sigh. She smiled as she saw your skirt and your color leggings that matched with your shirt and heels. “hey, this outfit today is cute. I like it.”

And hearing her say that made you feel good.

“Really?” You never usually say that. You either say ‘oh, I know!’ Or ‘I made this for you because I knew You'd like it’ or something else that you always say with such confidence. But today, you wanted her approval. You didn't sound as confident as you always do.

“Yeah, of course. Everything you wear is cute.” She says as she moves her hands to your hips. “why?” she asks. “What's the matter?” her tired voice asks. And you told her. You told her how in the morning you woke up late, that the hot water at your apartment had gone off so you showered with cold water, how you ran out of your favorite snack, how at the Cafe you go to to get your drink was closed, and that some random people made fun of your outfit. “And I know I shouldn't care! I know! But today they really made me feel, just- ugh. I feel horrible. Of me, of my clothes, everything of me.”

Shoko listened to everything you said. She sighs and holds your waist. “I'm sorry that happened today.” She says. “You want to take a hot bath at my place after work?” She asks and you nod. She smiles softly and cups your face, “and who cares about their opinions? You're Beautiful, you always will be. I love your cute clothes you always wear at work or when We go out.” She says as she gets closer to you.

“They Turn me on sometimes.” She admits and starts to kiss your neck. You softly sigh and hold on to her. “Really?” You ask. “Always.” She says.

The whole day at work Shoko was driving you crazy. Absolutely crazy. You could already feel how wet your panties were. You tried your best to heal anyone who walked in who needed a small healing. Satoru had come in to simply talk with Shoko about some random thing you can't even remember because all you thought about was her. How her lips would feel in that sweet spot you liked to be kissed on your neck. Her sweet words hit your ear as she squeezed and played with your nipples. You groan as you look down at Your report as you try to concentrate.

“She seems really distracted. What you do to her?” Satoru asks while grinning at the long brown haired woman. Shoko shrugs. “Nothing. Said her outfit was cute today and that was all.” She says as she sucked in her lollipop. A lollipop you had given to her yesterday that she left in the pockets of her coat. He chuckles and continues to talk about how he annoyed Nanami and about his Students.

Once the final report is done, you and Shoko sigh. “Finally!” She says as she stretches. She took her coat off and hangs it. She helps you take off yours and grabs her purse. She hands you yours and says, “I need to stop buying at the store. Is that okay?” She asks. You nod as you walked out of the infirmary room.

Shoko ended up buying one of your favorite wine brands and some snacks. once at her apartment, she had told you to go and grab the clothes you wanted as she prepared the bath. You were nervous. It isn't as if it's the first time you two have sex. You two have had it many times, even at work. On your knees, your pretty heels hitting the floor as you sucked on Shoko's clit. God, she was so stressed that day, you just wanted her to feel good. your hands on her thighs As she moans and rides your face as she came.

You grab the towel and sigh as you go into the bathroom and sit down on the stool. You washed your body and stood up to see Shoko already in the bathtub. She smiles and you dip your feet in and sit down. Shoko's eyes never leave you or your body. She smiles and wraps her arms around you as you sit down between her legs and lay your back on her chest. She breathes you in and says, “you smell nice.”

The warm water made you feel relaxed. You Honestly forgot what those people even said about you. Who gives a shit about them anyways. As you relax, Shoko's hands go under your arms and gently cup your breasts. She squeezes them as she kisses your back. “You're beautiful, you know that?” She says as she planted another kiss. “You are so beautiful.” She whispers and gently tugs your nipples. You softly moan and move your head to the side, wanting her to kiss your neck. She smiled and kissed it.

“You know.” She says in-between kisses. “You really did look cute in that short skirt and those cute colored leggings.” You shiver and whine as she slowly moves one hand down as fge other cupped your breast. “You are always somehow cute with everything you wear.” her fingers spread your lips open as she teased your clit. You whine and gasp. “I sometimes feel like you only really wear those skirts with me and with me only.” She closes your pussy lips again and squeezes them, causing you to jump.

“You were wet for me, huh?” She grins. “I saw it when you went down to pick up that pen you ‘accidently’ dropped. I saw that wet spot.” She says as her fi gets open your lips again and start to rub your clit, causing you to jump. “God, you're so hot.” She says as she bites down on your shoulder. You moan and move your his, the water slashing, some of it landing on the floor. She couldn't help But whimpers at just hearing you.

You were just so beautiful. She kisses your neck and sucked as her fingers mkve faster, causing you to hold tightly to the tub. She smiles and says, “Baby, can you have your pretty ass up?” She says. Fuck, the praises. You do as so, your ass facing her as she stood up. She smiles as she saw how wet your pussy was. She licks her fingers and rubs your wet silky folds up and down. “You are so gorgeous. You know That?” She says.

“Your pussy is so pretty too. You're all wet because of me…hmmmm.” She smiled as she kissed your ass and pushed a finger in you. You moan and turn to look up at her. her breast wet, nipples perked up. You wanted to suck and bite on them just how she likes them. You moan as you feel her finger curl up. She smiles and pulls her finger out, tasting it. “Hmm, you taste so good.” She says as she gets on one knee and kisses your ass again. She goes lower and lower to your thighs.

You shiver and moan at her kisses. She was so close to your poor Aching clit. You move your ass closer to her face and she chuckles. “Eger?” She says and licks a long string of your pussy. She moans at the taste and closes her eyes as she goes to your clit and licks it. You felt goosebumps all over your body. You close your eyes as you press yourself more on to her mouth. She moans, her moans being muffled up by your pussy. She spreads your pussy lips up as she licks to taste you. She grins as she feels your legs shake.

Shoko moves two of her fingers to your wet entrance that aches for her fingers. You moan as you feel her fingers slowly push in and out of you. And then a sharp pain is on your ass. She slapped your ass. Fuck, it felt so good. She holds your ass tight and slaps it again as she sucks your clit. She loved hearing your poor moans. Her fingers start to move fast as she thrusted them in and out of your dripping cut, your cream covering her fingers. “S-Shoko! Wait- oh my god!” You moaned as you tried to push her but she kept going. You feel like you are going to sleep the Moment you cum on her fingers and tongue. She giggles as she keeps eating you.

“Shit, You are so hot right now.” She says as she moves a hand to rub her clit. She moans as she sees how your poor legs struggled to stay up, her fingers pumping in and out of your poor wet cunt. She grins as she goes faster and you scream, cuming on her fingers. She chuckles as she sees how you squirt on her fingers. She hums and licks your cunt one last time, tasting you.

You were whining as you try to catch your breath, holding on To the tile wall. She smiled and smacked your ass, making you yelp. “You did good, babe.” She says and kisses your shoulder. “Let's get out so we can drink that wine.” She says as she give you a towel.

You two did drink the wine on the living room sofa but you couldn't Help but return the favor by eating her pussy. Her cunt dripped in your mouth as she sipped her wine and moaned. Her fingers running through your hair. You moan and look up at her. Her beautiful brown eyes looking right back at your eyes. She bites her lip and throws her head back as you suck on her clit. “Fuck, you look so beautiful.” She praises as she opens her eyes to look at you. “Eating me like this- ah fuck.” She moans and smiles. “You are always so beautiful. All mine. Fuck, you're all mine….” She moans and closes her eyes. You couldn't help but moan at her praises. You push your fingers in her as you suck and Lick her clit.

God, you felt so good. Your back arching more as she praised you. She smiles at the arch and gasps as your fingers cruel up. She nods and praises you even more. “right there baby, God, yes- you are so good- ah ah fuck yes I'm going to cum soon baby.” You loved how she talks so much during sex. Her praises and everything about her drive you crazy. She drops the wine glass on the floor, not caring if the carpet is now stained red. She tugs your hair as her feet curl. She whimpers and moans as she cupped her breast. She was so close.

Her moans soon turn into screams as she cums on your fingers. You pulled your fingers out as you licked and licked. She is so sensitive. She jumped at every lip. You smile at her as you lick your fingers clean. She smiles at you, panting. She moves her hair away from her face and says, “you did good.” And pulls you into a kiss.

Honestly, you forgot why you even felt horrible. All you thought of was how Shoko and you both looked and were.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #smut #x reader #jjk x fem!reader #fem reader #shoko ieri x reader #jujutsu kaisen shoko #shoko ieiri #shoko x reader #shoko x you #jjk shoko #jjk smut #i love shoko <3

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ladylokianna · 2 days ago

Text

Some quiet moments

Partially based on my own prompt here and written after this post i casually read today. Hope you enjoy a fluffier and softer Aemond (though i love smut Aemond, i'm totally uncapable of writing something smut).

Warnings: no warnings, just pure fluff.

Pairing: i don't like to write Y/N, so is an Aemond x reader (a nameless wife)

English is not my first language and i am constantly trying to improve, so i apologise for any mistakes.

Also not so good to give a good title, sorry XD

***

You are so busy braiding the flowers the girls brought to you now and then that you did not notice Aemond until the very last moment, when you feel him placing something warm on you –his coat, you noticed shortly afterwards– and his hands carefully place it on your shoulders, lifting the collar to protect your neck, taking care not to crease the flower garland that Jaehaera or one of your daughters had carefully arranged on your hair, loosely braided.

"I knew i'd find you here." Aemond greets you in his usual calm voice, sitting by your side. "You might catch cold, love, summer is still far away."

"Hi darling. I was starting to get a bit chilly, actually, but when the girls and i went out, the sun was still bright and i didn't think about wearing something warmer." you answer with a big smile, interrupting what you were doing to take and hold his hand. "And what about you? I can see you're tired."

He told you about his day, spent travelling around the realm between meetings and state matters.

"Then you should reach the Council, they must be waiting for you." you reason.

"They can wait." he reply, encircling your shoulders with his arm and holding you close to him. In your lap, under the flowers you are weaving, Aemond noticed one of his books. "How was your day?"

"It was less interesting than yours, i'm afraid. As always i tried with little success to read something in valyrian, i had lunch with Alicent and spent some time embroidering with Helaena and... just an hour ago, i was crowned queen of the garden." you say cheerfully. You then point to the blue flowers you carry in the lap. "However, i advise you to be careful, because the girls are looking for your favourite flowers with all the intentions of crowning you too."

"That's a risk i'm willing to take, if i can have you alone for a few minutes without having to share you with someone else." he chuckles, surrounding you in a tight hug and leaving many small kisses on your temple.

Feeling him so relaxed and calm during the day is a rare thing, accustomed as he is to always being on guard, always on the alert, ready to detect the slightest sign of danger to react accordingly. Suddenly you both heard the girls' laughter grow closer, a sign that they are returning from their search.

"...i was thinking that i would love to have another baby."

"You want to fill the Red Keep with children?" you ask, amused.

"Why not? After all, our son and i are blatantly outnumbered, and if we are not careful enough, we will certainly end up being overwhelmed by you girls."

You rub his leg affectionately, leaning the head back to get a better look at him.

"I will think about it." you reply. "But who knows, if tonight and... let's say maybe those to come, you would decide to read me something in valyrian, i might... you know... think better about it."

"Wait... is all what it takes? Some reading in high valyrian?"

"Maybe."

"Good enough for me, we have a deal."

You giggle, before he kiss you tenderly.

"I said maybe, Aem."

"You cannot recant now, a deal is a deal."

Jaehaera and her three little cousins, their arms laden with flowers, stood at some distance from the bench giggling between themselves at seeing you two embracing, until your middle daughter run towards you, eager to give her dad something she had picked up in the gardens.

"Can i bring it to Vhagar?" she asked, showing to Aemond a huge yellow flower.

"Vhagar is resting now, my love. We will bring it to her tomorrow. Keep it safe, will you?" promise Aemond. He look up, smiling lovingly at the other two daughters and Jaehaera as well. "Hello, my loves."

The youngest search her father's attention by placing both of her little hands on his face, trying to greet him in valyrian and giggling when Aemond, with a cheeky grin, pretend to nibble on her fingers.

"This one is for you instead." Jaehaera smiles at her uncle, taking the garland you had finished weaving.

She ask him to lean against the back of the bench, but Aemond, with a theatrical gesture, knelt before her, bowing the head as if during a real coronation, before she puts the garland on his head and untying the string that keep his hair neatly tied back, then began braiding it and showing your younger daughter how to do it properly.

If Criston Cole, sent by Aegon to find Aemond, is astonished to faced with that scene, he did not show it, but he take a few long moments to call him, perhaps undecided whether to interrupt that idyll or not.

"I really have to go now." sighs Aemond in a very low voice. "See you later."

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond fluff #hotd aemond #prince aemond #aemond targaryen imagine #prince aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond one eye #fluffiness #fluff fic #hotd fic #hotd fanfic #aemond fanfic #not good with titles you know

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cherubcameron · 3 days ago

Text

I love you, I’m sorry

Rafe x Sofia

Authors note: this might be a little meta, but reader is in this. She’s not romantically linked to either Rafe and Sofia in this one. So this is almost like an au where she’s just Sofia’s pogue friend. Can yall tell I really like the whole singing thing.. also I won’t lie to yall. My mental health has decline by a lot so here’s something that’s helping me cope.

You’d been surprised when Sofia had told you; she quit. You’d been even more surprised that she had told you that Rafe told her too. You’d told her that was a terrible idea. That rich guys like Rafe would end up fucking her over and she shouldn’t be financially dependent on him. She hadn’t listened.

A rapid knock was heard at your door. You went quickly towards the door. You opened it, seeing a crushed Sofia.

She had told you everything.

You hadn’t realize how deep it’d all been. But now you were with her on the beach. Trying to distract her from all that had to do with Rafe Cameron. You’d brought your other friends. Hoping that’ll cheer her up. But to no avail, she sat on the beach blanket; quiet.

“Ay amiga! I know it hurts now. But you’ll heal from it eventually.” You say, holding her hand. She looked towards you, furrowed brows and a frown.

“I just— I don’t think he’ll ever forgive me. He told me he hates when people break his trust. And I did the worst thing possible. I’m such a piece of—

You stopped her before she could continue. Your hand on top of hers.

“You can’t beat yourself up for it. Even though, was it excessive? Yes, but it’s already been done. You can’t keep hating yourself because you were hurt by his words. You acted out of hurt.” You say, trying to console her.

Her head falls to your shoulders. “I’m still an idiot. I should have known it was a swindle. The whole thing felt sketchy. Now Hollis is dead and Groff ran away with Rafes money.”

You give her a sympathetic look. “It’s like, no matter how hard I try. I always make dumb decisions that hurt the people I care about most. I let my anger get in the way.” She continues. “He did so much for me and I threw it all away. If he never forgives me. I don’t blame him.” She looked down at the ground, a frown on her face.

A Karol g song starts to blast through the speakers and you looked down at her and smile.

“Dame tiempo/que no estoy mi mejor momento.” (Give me time, that I’m not at my best) You start to sing, Sofia looking up at you, a sad smile on her face.

“Y mientras me curo del corazón/Hoy salgo pa'l mar a aprovechar que hay sol/Está bien no sentirse bien, es normal, no es delito” (And while I heal from the heart/Today I go out to the sea to take advantage of the sun/It's okay to not feel good, it's normal, it's not a crime)

Tears start to roll down her face as you continue to sing. Your hand now in hers. You sway a little as you sing. Unaware of someone approaching you two from behind.

“No necesito más/Solo amor, dame tiempo/Yo me sano con tu compañía/Esa paz que me das” (Don't need more/Just love, give me time/I heal with your company/That peace that you give me) She finally is back to eye level with you. She sings along with you. You nudge her, making her smile.

Someone clears their throat, you and Sofia breaking apart. Turning to see who it is. Your eyes widen as you see who it is. Rafe. You turn to see Sofia then back to him.

“I’ll leave you two… alone.”

(Sofias pov)

Sofia looked at Rafe as he sat down beside her on the sand. Rafe looked back as her friend walked away. He turned back to Sofia.

“So..” Rafe starts.

“I’m so sorry.” She sobs, it comes out of her quickly. He turns to her suddenly, his expression unreadable.

Then he sighs.

“Why did you do it?” He asks coldly, he looks towards the ocean. The waves rolling out towards shore. It would have been peaceful, had it not been for the tension between them.

“The deal with Hollis? It was stupid and it’s just going to make you more mad.” Rafes face hardens, his jaw ticking.

“I’ll be more mad if you don’t tell me. Tell me why? I deserve to know that much.” He looks at Sofia intently, she could feel her heart hammering in her chest. She didn’t know how to begin.

“My dad had came to me, asking for my help. He’d— he’d asked me to help Hollis nudge you for this deal.” Sofia sighs, her eyes looking towards him. But he’s still watching the waves roll out, kissing the shore before rolling back in. “ I told him no, originally. That I wouldn’t scam you like that. That it was dishonest.”

Rafe scoffs, shaking his head. “Oh yeah?”

Sofia face screws up, “Yes Rafe, I wasn’t going to do that to you. But then. But then I heard you with Ruthie and Topper.”

Rafe finally turns when he hears those two names. His brows furrow.

“That just because we hooked up didn’t mean that made me your girlfriend. That you wouldn’t live with a pogue… how you have standards.” She says, now being the one who turned towards the ocean. Unable to look him in the eyes.

Her friends had gone towards the water now. Making sure to give them privacy. —Silence engulfs them. The sounds of the seagulls, people laughing, and the waves crashing can only be heard.

“I didn’t mean that.” He says, “I just— when I have something. I don’t want people to ruin it and I just didn’t like how she spoke to me. I was being defensive. But I didn’t mean it.”

Sofia scrunches her eyebrows. “It still hurt to hear, Rafe. I-I know I messed up. I only did what I did out of anger…”

Rafe is silent for a while, he rubs his hand across his face. Biting his lip, which she wasn’t used to seeing.

“I just need time okay.” He finally says.

“Time?”

“Time to forgive you. I know I broke up with you so fast. I should have let you explain yourself. But it’s not like you were dying to say anything.” He says bitterly. Their eyes finally meet. It feels almost like the first time it ever did. Without her betrayal. When things were fresh. She would do anything to go back to that.

He’d been so kind. She didn’t think someone like him would ever notice her. But he did.

“I love you, I’m sorry Rafe.” She whispers, his face can’t settle on an emotion to feel.

“Just give me time.” Sofia nods, placing her head on his shoulder. He lets her. Both of them watching was the waves settles. Smoother than the crashes it had been.

Taglist

@lostsyren

#sofia x rafe #rafe cameron #rafe and sofia #sofia outer banks #sofia obx #rafe obx #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction

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feminist-space · 3 hours ago

Text

"Joy Spence, 21, said she visited emergency departments at two hospitals in St. John's over the course of nearly two weeks this May.

What began as weakness and abdominal pain on her right side quickly deteriorated into blacking out from the agony in her torso.

But no matter how dire her symptoms got, doctors kept sending her home.

"They would just tell me, 'Your bloodwork's normal, there's nothing we can do.' They would send me home, then same thing again," she said. "I would go back again. They would get me to do the bloodwork, say everything's normal."

Ultrasound and CT scans apparently turned up nothing, but Spence, in such severe pain, says she had no option but to keep returning to the hospital, where she says she was eventually left screaming in a waiting room, ignored by hospital staff.

"If somebody doesn't help me, I'm going to die," she recalls wailing, watching doctors and nurses pass her by.

At one point, she was dismissed outright by a walk-in clinic nurse, she adds.

"Somebody said to me, 'I don't know what you expect me to do,'" she said. "'You're a healthy 21-year-old young female.'"

One night, she says, her boyfriend had to help her into an ambulance. Spence was in so much pain she couldn't stay conscious and stand on her own.

"I remember the man in the ambulance telling me … how often he sees other young women going into the hospital and seeing them be misdiagnosed and not taken seriously," she said, speaking through tears.

"He said that he would do his best to … get things going for me."

Spence says she went to an ER at the Health Sciences Centre or St. Clare's Mercy Hospital about 10 times over a 12-day period, beginning on May 21. She also visited her family doctor, who could do little except tell her to speak directly to the surgeon at Health Sciences Centre, she said.

Each time she saw a doctor, she says, she was sent home and told to dance around her living room or do yoga to cure what physicians believed was anxiety or sluggish bowels.

"I had so many laxatives," Spence recalls. "I would tell them … nothing's even coming out anymore. It's not just this, I don't think. But no, they were dead set on the constipation and only constipation. Like, it can only be that."

...

Spence says doctors only began to take her seriously once she began vomiting in a Health Sciences Centre hallway. The contents of her stomach were green and black.

An older doctor walking past her happened to notice, stopping in his tracks. Spence says he immediately identified the issue as appendicitis.

At that doctor's urging, Spence was finally wheeled into an operating room, where she says her burst appendix — now gangrenous — was removed.

"I think when I walked into the room and they seen a 21-year-old young girl, they immediately dismissed me and thought that there couldn't be anything wrong with me," Spence said.

"I was not on their minds and not on their radar. And if they didn't have that preconceived idea of me, those thoughts wouldn't have been formed and maybe I would have gotten the proper care that I should have."

...

Spence is still struggling to recover from her ordeal. Physically, she's now fine: her appendix was removed and her stitches have healed.

But she's lost an alarming amount of weight, she says, wakes up gasping in the middle of the night and can't stop herself from crying whenever she remembers the hospital.

"I've been losing a lot of hair," she said. "Mentally, it's just been a struggle."

Spence only received an apology from the health authority after CBC News requested comment and confirmed that Spence had done an interview — a move she says felt hollow and frustrating, since the manager who called her didn't give her an explanation about why she was repeatedly ignored while waiting to be admitted.

The ripple effect from her illness, and how she says she was treated when seeking care, has uprooted her life. She's taken a year off her studies in Memorial University's social work program and has lost her job. She's looking for trauma therapy, but now doesn't have the money to pay for it, she says.

"I think as young women we're always told what we're supposed to do, how we're supposed to think, and not to trust our instincts," she said.

"But most of the time … the gut instinct is right. I knew I was sick. I knew what was happening wasn't right, and I could have died if I didn't keep going back to the hospital.

"If I had listened to those doctors and went back home — what could have really happened?""

#ableism #ableism in medicine #medical malpractice #medicine #medicine dismissing patients #misogyny in medicine #hospital management system

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riansdiary · 19 hours ago

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YOU HAVE IT ALL NOW. END OF STORY. PERIOD. DOOR SLAM!!! (Be Your Own Abdullah!)

Dearest Gentle Readers 💎

Let this be the last Tumblr post that you will read. This is the secret to not wavering and spiraling. Aren't you tired? If yes then continue reading. If not, grab that manifestation by the horns and be stubborn about you having it already no matter what.

I have a little Halloween aesthetic treat for you today and Nancy Wheeler who I love so much from Stranger Things! I've been rewatching Stranger Things to get ready for the fifth season and some parts of it made me think about manifestation. In fact, I have a new analogy coming soon and I'm working on it now.

Before anything, I wanna thank the people who helped me have a better and stronger new mindset about all this. First of all, I'd like to thank @babygothprincess as usual for her deciding post that has really helped me a lot. Second, I am grateful for Taylor Tookes' updated outlook and mindset about manifestation that immensely improved mine as well. I agreed completely with everything she said.

Fun fact: I loved her X account as it really helped my mindset get better and her tweets have helped me a lot. Let me just set up the story. I wanted her to have an updated video about her new way of manifesting now that can be seen on her X account. I just decreed and decided that she's gonna post an updated video about her new mindset and beliefs about the law of assumption and voila! Later on, I went to her YouTube account to watch a video and she has a new video about the exact topic I wanted! Yes, I manifested it. I did that once and relaxed. Told myself that it is done.

The third and last is for Nancy Wheeler from Stranger Things. She helped me become braver and stronger just by embodying her. This is about normal everyday things like when I'm scared of something but also about manifestation. She helped me realize that I need to stand my ground when it comes to my desires and become a badass boss when I decree or decide, affirm or command my subconscious.

This is your reminder to fully claim and accept your desires as yours now. Stop wavering and spiraling. You have to know that you have the choice. The choice to dwell on the old story, circumstances or 3d. Whatever you see that you don't want or the choice to be stubborn in the fact that you already have it, keep saying that you have it now and stop taking bullshit from anything. Not let anything dictate whether you have it or not other than yourself.

Okay now let's move on...

YOU 👏 HAVE 👏 THAT 👏 CHOICE 👏

But do you have the courage and the badass energy to deny what you see and keep telling yourself that you have it now?

"Oh but he said he didn't like me."

"Oh I didn't get into the college I wanted"

"It didn't work. I need to do more."

Who has the power here? You have to remember all the time that YOU ARE IN CONTROL, YOU HAVE THE POWER AND IT WILL GO EXACTLY HOW YOU SAY IT WILL GO.

WHAT 👏 YOU 👏 SAY 👏 GOES 👏

You are the operant power for a freaking reason. You are in control and it's based on if you agree that you don't have it because of what you see or you deny, say no and are stubborn about you having it now.

It's simple. You either agree or disagree. Say yes or no. You have that choice and keep decreeing that you have it now no matter what happens. If that's how you are on the inside, it's done. That is what the 3d would follow if you still use that term. If only you keep telling yourself that and deciding that you have it now.

You already have it no matter what you see. You are the boss and what you say goes. If you say that you have it, you have it now. What I mean is you have the conscious choice to dwell on those things or decide now in this moment that you have it. There's nobody else who can be the best Abdullah for you other than yourself so be stubborn and slam the door in your own face and keep going to the end.

You have to do it for yourself and always go back to deciding that you have it now. You need to be your own Abdullah. No one decides for you if you have your desire or not other than yourself. You have the "choice" to dwell on that or completely claim that desire as yours every time it crosses your mind.

That's all you need to do. Decide it's yours, say "I don't care, who cares? I'm the boss I have the power. I choose. This has no power over me and it doesn't mean anything."

The 3d does not stand a chance if you keep claiming and saying that you have this desire now. The limited dead reality 3d doesn't stand a chance if you decreed that you have it and it is done. Just keep gently reminding yourself that you have it now and it is done because you are the operant power, the boss and the freaking queen or king of this reality.

Just stop separating the 3d and the 4d. That just implies more process. If you truly believe that then that's fine but I'm just here to help and tell you what I learned. If you decided that you have it, you have it period. If you keep reminding yourself that and decreeing that then it has no choice but to manifest anyway. Be careful not to get stuck in the "manifesting" phase. Have it now.

Just think that it is done and you're at the end. Feel how you would feel if it's already done and no it's not emotions. I dismiss and not give any meaning to what's happening around me and I just decree or affirm and assume that it is done. It's already here.

I would then feel like it is already here and feel myself feeling relaxed and contented and calm. Feel it real and feel that it's done.

It's time to stop being a softie and letting anything else outside of you dictate whether you have it or not.

BE 👏 LIKE 👏 NANCY 👏 FUCKING 👏 WHEELER 👏 AND 👏 STAND 👏 YOUR 👏 GROUND 👏

Do you really think that Nancy would be able to properly shoot Vecna if she was worrying and being scared of him? "Oh Vecna said she can't shoot him, he's superhuman and way too powerful!" Do you think Nancy would just agree to that and give up? NO.

It's like Vecna is the 3d when he was in Nancy's mind and the 3d said you didn't have it, would you agree to that? Be honest. Do you know how stupid that sounds? I don't mean that it's just you because I was once like this too. Letting the unwanted invade my mind instead of standing my ground, disagreeing and decreeing that all my desires are here now.

So please. Be your own Abdullah and slam the fucking door in your face, I'm reminding you once more. That means you take what you affirm or say or decree as a fact and it is done because you said it is. Nothing can ruin your manifestations if you already have it. You're the judge of it all, think in your favor and tell yourself that you have it now period! Stop waiting, stop manifesting and start having it now. Feel the feeling of relief and calm or whatever feeling comes up when you think that you have it now and it's done. Don't force it.

You have it, it's already done and it's already here!

No one can take that away from you other than yourself too. It is what you say it is so if you decide or affirm that you have all of your desires now then take that as a fact and feel how it feels now that you know that no matter what happens (unless you let it happen and agree to the unwanted), you have all your desires now and it's already here. Assume that it is. Choose to have it now period. Not in 4d and 3d and separating them. You have it now, it's already here. That's it. It's already done. Just trust in the law and relax.

Do what makes you happy because it will help you take your attention away from the unwanted things you might see. Watch your favorite shows or movies or relaxing vlogs!

Don't let Vecna (unwanted things or circumstances) or yourself take your desires from you from now on. Become Nancy Wheeler, be a boss and stand your ground. You're the operant power of your reality for a whole damn reason.

Have strong will and stop letting anyone or anything else dictate if you have your desires or not. Stop being so weak and letting Vecna a.k.a anything you don't want gain control on how your reality should be or if you have it your desires.

If it's not what you want that you see, deny and disagree. Remind yourself that you have it now.

I kept repeating the key parts of this post so you will really get it ingrained in your brain.

Don't forget that the 3d or your circumstances have no meaning other than what you give it. It doesn't have any meaning except when you give it meaning like if you say that the old story is true and you don't have it. I'm sure all of us made that mistake before. Correct it. It has no meaning. Why not think that even whatever you see means that you have it.

Literally say:

"Everything means I have all my desires."

Yours Truly,

Lady Rian Whistledown 💋

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