#and that’s like great for you? i don’t have to do shit?

[leviathan-ghoul]

in the U.S., ICE is Immigration & Customs Enforcement. they’re supposed to be rounding up all the illegal immigrants within 100 miles of the north and south borders and each coast. however, recently they’ve been stopping anyone who looks brown, legal or not, and taking them in without giving them a chance to find or show their documents.

this includes indigenous people. native americans from tribes and living on reservations have been taken in by ICE because they “appeared suspicious” or didn’t have proof of immigration status on them (because they’re not fucking immigrants).

some have had their American birth certificates ripped up and were taken into custody anyway.

currently, Guantanamo Bay is a prison for political prisoners who underwent literal torture (rape, waterboarding, etc) and was shut down because of how cruel and inhumane it was.

it’s being opened up again and designed to cram in over 30,000 migrants that they don’t know what to do with because Mexico won’t allow the flights carrying them back into the border because surprise surprise, they won’t take in U.S. residents that have been wrongly displaced.

a lot of trump supporters love this idea. this is because

they refuse to question anything their Supreme Leader Trump says

they’re not getting the whole picture, and

they don’t care to look into it because they want to be right

or they’re in denial that their oh so great country could do this.

however a lot of Americans, like myself, are pissed off. trump no longer has majority approval here because some people are growing brain cells and realizing he’s been spitting nothing but garbage at them.

also. other countries apparently think americans want trump to annex Greenland.

No. Hardly anybody wants that because it’s a stupid move no matter how you look at it.

the “Make Greenland Great Again” campaign that happened was trump’s son and his guinea pigs paying homeless people in the area to wear MAGA gear and pose for photos. and from that, a ton of stupid americans were convinced that all of Greenland wants to be a part of the U.S.

the shit education system has failed us, i fear.

the third impeachment process for this man has started again, less than one month into his presidency and we’re tired of the tangerine terror.

i apologize for the rant, but i hope this clarified what’s going on here a little bit. we’re all tired of this nonsense.

You've gotta love Jews more than you hate Nazis.

You've gotta love trans folks more than you hate TERFs.

You've gotta love your unhoused neighbors more than you hate the billionaires.

You've gotta love immigrants more than you hate ICE.

You've gotta love queer kids more than you hate christian fundamentalists.

You've gotta love fat people more than you hate the diet industry.

You've gotta love disabled people more than you hate the insurance companies.

You've gotta love your fellow humans more than you hate the worst that humanity has to offer. You don't have to like every person you're fighting for, and you sure as hell don't have to give up your righteous anger, but hate is ultimately corrosive.

You've gotta love.

[ot8xbangchansgirlsblog]

𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕕𝕠 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕞𝕖𝕒𝕟?

part one

Warning: Angst, cursing, Tired reader, really clingy Felix.

Summary: Y/n's exhausted and slowly breaking down.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Today was one of those mentally off days. Y/n’s body felt like it was on autopilot, moving without her full control. Every step she took seemed harder than the last, her mind foggy and clouded by exhaustion. Her stomach churned from the overdose of caffeine that had only made her feel worse, mixing with the emptiness of not eating anything all day. Her skin had lost its usual warmth, now pale and clammy, drenched in sweat as the lack of sleep began to hit its peak. It was a feeling she knew all too well, but one that still managed to knock her out every time.

She barely heard her manager’s voice through the haze, his words distant as he waved his hand in front of her face. “Y/n, are you listening?”

She flinched, her heart racing as the sound of his voice jerked her from the haze. Her eyes focused on him, trying to piece everything together. “Uh… what?” she mumbled, blinking in confusion, her brain struggling to catch up.

Her manager sighed but gave her a soft, understanding smile, though there was a hint of impatience there. “Oh right… I finished filing the documents you asked me to—”

“Great!” he interrupted, raising an eyebrow, his tone lighter now as he leaned forward. “Can you just go over them again and make sure there aren’t any mistakes?”

Y/n mentally groaned, the thought of reviewing pages of fine print when her head felt like it was splitting open. But she knew the importance. She couldn't afford to mess anything up.

He really was a sweet man—kind, professional, and understanding. It wasn’t his fault that they were all running on fumes. But the reality was, some idiot had royally messed up one of the key projects they were set to present. It had thrown everything off course, and now everyone was scrambling, working endless hours to catch up with the other departments that had their shit together.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll get started right now,” she said softly, the words almost coming out as a whisper. She blinked a few times, gathering the willpower to lift herself from her chair. “May I be excused?”

Her manager gave her a soft smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Of course, dear. Thank you so much for your hard work.” He hesitated for a moment, his gaze softening as he looked at her. “I really do appreciate it, more than you know.”

Y/n nodded, trying to hide the fatigue creeping into her bones. Before she could leave, he stopped her, holding out his wallet and pulling out his company card. “Here, take this,” he said gently. “Get yourself some dinner... well, technically breakfast.” He glanced at his watch, a guilty laugh escaping him when he realized it was already 3 AM. “You really don’t have to, but I can’t stand seeing you like this.”

She took the card hesitantly, his concern evident in his eyes. “You really don’t have to, sir. But… thank you.” Her lips curved into a tired but genuine smile, her mood shifting slightly, softened by his kindness.

He gave her a reassuring smile, watching as she stood, her shoulders heavy with the weight of the night’s work. "You deserve it, Y/n. Get some rest when you can, okay?" She nodded, grateful, and walked out of the office, the card tucked into her pocket.

It was around 4:30 AM when Y/n's phone vibrated softly on the desk. She glanced at the screen, seeing Chan’s name light up. His call was a relief in the quiet, late hours of her work shift.

“Baby?” His voice sounded husky, still laced with the grogginess of just waking up. His tone carried a trace of concern.

“Hey, Channie,” Y/n said sweetly, though her voice wavered from exhaustion. Her eyelids fluttered in an attempt to stay open as she balanced the phone between her shoulder and ear, all while continuing to work.

“Hey, where are you? It’s 4 AM…” Chan's words came out in a small panic. Y/n could tell he was still trying to shake off sleep, his voice deepening with worry.

“I’m sorry, babe, I’m still at work,” Y/n sighed, turning a page in her file while typing something up. She clicked a few buttons on her laptop before glancing out the window. The city streets were silent, the world wrapped in a peaceful stillness that seemed a world apart from her busy desk. “Mr. Ji asked me to finish something quickly... I'll be home in a bit, I promise.”

Chan let out a frustrated groan, but his voice softened. “Still at work? Baby, it’s 4 AM. Come home already.” There was a slight panic in his tone now. He shifted under the covers, careful not to wake up Han, who had been nestled against him the entire night. The warmth of his touch was still fresh on his skin, but his concern for her outweighed any desire to stay in bed.

“Yeah... I know, I’m sorry. But Mr. Ji is being really worried about this project,” she explained, the guilt in her chest growing heavier with every word. She didn’t want to add more to his plate. “I’ll be done soon. I’ll be home before you know it.”

There was a pause, followed by Chan’s soft, frustrated sigh. “I can come pick you up right now…” His voice was filled with worry. “You don’t have to be out so late by yourself.”

“No, babe—” Y/n interrupted gently, “it’s way too late, and you have practice in an hour and a half. Get some rest, okay? I’ll be home soon.” She spoke with a calmness she didn’t entirely feel, trying her best to soothe him.

Chan’s frown deepened, even though she couldn’t see it. “Who’s going to drop you off? You shouldn’t be out at this hour alone. It’s not safe…”

“I’ll ask Yi-so Unnie to drop me off,” Y/n reassured him, trying to sound convincing. “She’ll take me home. Don’t worry, please? Just go back to sleep.”

There was a long silence, and Y/n could almost hear his internal battle. Finally, with a resigned sigh, Chan let out a quiet, “Okay... just call me if you need anything, alright?”

“I promise,” Y/n said softly, a smile tugging at her lips despite the weight of the moment. She felt the stress melting a little with each reassuring word. “How are my boys?”

“They’re good, all asleep,” Chan replied, his voice lighter now. He’d finally crawled back into bed, pulling Han back into his arms, the warmth and comfort of his body providing a sense of peace. He closed his eyes, feeling the tension in his shoulders slowly ease.

"Felix is mad at you," Chan said, chuckling lightly, his tone teasing yet knowing. Y/n furrowed her brow. Chan knew all too well how dramatic Felix had been these past few days, sulking about how little time Y/n had been able to spend with him due to her hectic schedule.

Y/n sighed, leaning back in her chair, and pinching the bridge of her nose. "I know, I know," she muttered, clearly exhausted herself. "Is he sleeping with you?" she asked, her voice carrying a hint of concern, though there was a small smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. Felix always slept with her every night, curling up beside her for comfort and companionship. Her long nights at the office had clearly been taking a toll on him, and that made her feel a pang of guilt.

Chan chuckled softly, shaking his head. "No, he's with Changbin," he replied, his voice still laced with a tired yawn. He stretched his arms overhead, the exhaustion evident in the way his shoulders slumped.

Y/n’s frown deepened slightly, the guilt gnawing at her as she glanced over at the clock on the wall. "I really need to wrap this up," she murmured more to herself than to Chan. It was late, and she knew Felix would be waiting for her, feeling abandoned.

"He'll survive," he said, teasing again, though there was a comforting warmth in his voice. "But maybe just send him a text before you come home, so he knows you haven’t forgotten him completely."

Y/n gave him a small, grateful smile. "I will," she promised softly, though her mind was already on the long to-do list she still had to get through. The work would never stop, but neither could her relationship with Felix—she just hoped he understood.

“I’m glad to hear that. See you soon, my love,” Y/n replied, her heart aching as she imagined him lying next to Han.

“Did you eat something?” His voice was soft, his eyes growing heavy with sleep again.

“Yeah, baby,” Y/n responded, a tiny lie slipping past her lips. “Get some rest. You sound exhausted. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Chan murmured, his voice growing quieter. He drifted back into sleep, the call fading into silence.

Y/n smiled as she quickly hung up, her gaze drifting back to the screen. But the guilt still gnawed at her—she was only halfway through her work, and the night was far from over.

It was now 5:20 AM, and Y/n was almost done with her work. The office was quiet, save for the soft hum of her computer. She was confident she’d be wrapped up by 5:45. Letting out a loud yawn, she stretched her arms overhead before grabbing her coffee cup. The bitter taste jolted her awake, though only slightly.

"Hey, neighbor," came a familiar voice. Hae, one of her co-workers, knocked lightly on the office door before pushing it open. "Hey, love," Y/n greeted with a tired smile, her eyes flickering up from the pile of papers she was working through. "Are you done with work?"

"Almost," Hae replied, swinging herself into the office chair with a casual stretch. "Are you?"

"Yeah," Y/n groaned, rubbing her face and flipping a page in her book. "I’m so tired. I can’t wait to get out of here."

"Same here," Hae agreed with a dramatic sigh, flopping back in her chair. "So, once we’re done, wanna grab breakfast? We don’t have to be back until 8 anyway." She rolled her eyes at the thought of getting only a few hours of sleep.

Y/n laughed softly. "Yeah, sure. Mr. Ji gave me the company card, so we can go get something to eat."

"Great!" Hae beamed, standing up from the chair with a bounce in her step. "See you in a bit." She waved and stepped out of the room, leaving Y/n chuckling at how adorable she was.

The moment Hae was out of sight, Y/n’s focus returned to the computer screen in front of her, but not for long. Her phone vibrated on the desk, and without looking, she picked it up. It was one of her boyfriends, likely Changbin.

"Hey, bunny," Changbin's voice came through the phone. She could hear the sound of him rattling around in the kitchen, probably making his usual protein shake. "Where are you? Did you head out for work already?"

"Hey, baby," Y/n sighed, leaning back in her chair. "I didn’t come home last night. I’m still at work."

“What? You didn’t come home?” Changbin’s voice was filled with concern. “Why? That’s so unhealthy.”

She winced, knowing what was coming. "Yeah, but remember how I told you we’re behind because of one of my coworkers?”

"Yeah, I remember..." His voice softened, but she could tell he was holding back his irritation.

“Binnie, be nice,” Y/n scolded, cutting him off before he could say something sharp. "We’re almost done, though. Just a bit longer."

He exhaled loudly. "But you’ve been coming home really late these past few days, going to work really early. You barely eat and you're practically running on coffee. We’ve barely seen you.” He pouted, even though Y/n couldn’t see it. She could hear the concern in his voice, though.

“I know. I know,” Y/n whispered, feeling her chest tighten. She was trying so hard to stay composed, but the weight of everything was getting to her. The constant pressure, the long hours—she was on the verge of breaking down. "I’m just...really tired."

There was a pause on the other end before Changbin let out a sigh. "I’m heading to the gym right now, but I’ll swing by and drop off your jacket. You need anything?"

Y/n shook her head, even though he couldn’t see it. "Don’t bother. I’m leaving the office now. You’ll probably find me home." She tried to sound nonchalant, but her voice was tight, like a rubber band stretched too thin.

“Are you sure?” Changbin asked, his voice laced with worry. "I can grab you something to eat, too, if you need it."

"No, it’s okay," Y/n quickly dismissed him, trying to push back the feelings welling up in her chest. "I’m leaving soon. Go work out. I’ll be home before you know it."

"Okay..." Changbin’s voice was defeated, but he didn’t push her any further. "I love you. Call me if you need anything, alright?"

"I will. I love you too." Y/n's words came out a little too quickly, but she needed him to hang up. Her head was starting to ache, and she couldn’t bear to talk much longer. She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to fight back the tears that threatened to spill over. "Bye, my love."

She hung up, her fingers trembling slightly as she set the phone down. For a moment, she just sat there in silence, the office lights buzzing overhead. She closed her eyes for a beat, trying to steady her breathing, but the tension was too much. It was too much.

"Finally," Y/n huffed, letting the tension leave her shoulders as she stood in the empty office, basking in the quiet after a long day of work. She had managed to finish everything in time and turned in all the reports. She finally felt like she could breathe. "Hey, neighbor, you finished?" Hae's voice cut through the stillness as she leaned casually against the doorframe. She was already wearing her coat, a small bag slung over her shoulder, ready to head out.

"Yeah, just handed everything in," Y/n said with a relieved smile. "Lemme grab my stuff and we can go."

As she tossed a few stray papers into her bag and pulled on her coat, Hae lingered in the doorway, trying to make small talk. "It’s quite chill outside," she noted, shoving her hands into her pockets.

"Yeah," Y/n chuckled, the image of her boyfriend popping into her mind. "My boyfriend wanted to bring me another jacket just because it’s so cold."

Hae raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Aww, that’s sweet. How are they, by the way?"

"They're good," Y/n said with a soft laugh. "Probably really mad I didn’t come home. I kind of...forgot to charge my phone." She cursed under her breath as she fumbled with her dead phone. "Great timing, huh?"

"I've got a charger," Hae offered with a grin, pulling out a cord from her bag. "We can charge it at the cafe."

"Thanks," Y/n said, gratefully accepting the charger and slipping her phone back into her bag. She locked her office door and followed Hae out into the chilly evening air.

After they grabbed a quick breakfast at the cafe, they parted ways. Y/n didn’t realize until she was on her way home that she had completely forgotten to charge her phone after all. The day had already begun for most people, but for her, it was time to sleep.

When she arrived at the house, she could hear footsteps echoing through the halls, indicating that everyone was getting ready for their schedules. Y/n sighed softly, pushing her tired body to unlock the door. She stepped inside, shedding her shoes and coat, and called out, "I’m home!"

Her feet dragged on the floor as she made her way through the house, exhaustion pulling at every step. "Babe?" Leeknow's voice came from the kitchen, and he appeared in the doorway. Dressed in sweatpants, a hoodie, and a cap, he looked comfortable but clearly concerned as he rushed over to her.

"Why weren’t you answering our calls?" He asked, pulling her into a warm hug, his worry evident in his voice.

"My phone died, my love. I totally forgot to charge it," she explained softly, resting her head on his chest. "Are you good? Did you sleep well?" she asked, planting a soft kiss on his lips.

"Yeah, I did," he replied, brushing a hand gently through her hair. "But you, you're burning up," he frowned, his palm coming to rest on her forehead. "Are you sick?"

"No, just really tired," she yawned, fighting to stay awake as her body screamed for rest.

"Okay, go wash up and get into bed. I’ll make you some warm hot chocolate," he cooed, guiding her toward the stairs with gentle hands.

"I just had breakfast, baby. Just get ready for work. I promise I’m okay, I just need to recharge before going back in," she reassured him, giving him one more soft kiss on the lips. "Go on, I’ll be fine."

Leeknow looked at her with concern, rubbing her cheek with his thumb. "O-okay... but I’ll come check on you before I leave, yeah?"

Y/n nodded, offering him a tired smile, before slowly making her way up the stairs, feeling his eyes follow her every step. His worry gnawed at him as he watched her sluggish movements, but he didn’t say anything.

Upstairs, the house was busy with everyone getting ready for the day. Y/n managed to sneak past everyone and into her room, where she quickly washed up and changed into something more comfortable. She turned off the lights, allowing herself to collapse into her cozy bed. A sigh of relief left her lips as she curled up, closing her eyes and letting the weight of the day melt away. The sound of the house buzzing with activity was drowned out as she finally allowed herself to fall into a deep, well-deserved sleep.

20 minutes hadn’t even passed by when suddenly her door opened and closed. She was too tired to open her eyes to see how it was but she could tell by the persons cologne.

Her blanket shifted, the soft fabric sliding off as Felix’s body pressed against hers, seeking warmth. His small sniffles reached her ears as he nestled closer, his head resting against her chest. "Y/nnie?" he mumbled, his voice thick with something between sleepiness and sadness.

Y/N’s eyelids fluttered open slowly, the hazy room coming into focus. She blinked once, twice, before realizing Felix was right there, pouting, his soft features contorted with a mixture of discomfort and longing. He wrapped his arms around her waist, his hands cold against her skin as he nuzzled his head under her chin, snuggling into the crook of her neck.

"Hey, babyboy, what’s wrong?" she murmured softly, her voice thick with the grogginess of sleep. Without even thinking, her hand instinctively moved to stroke his arm, soothing him with gentle touches. She threaded her fingers through his tousled blonde hair, the faint scent of his shampoo mixing with the warmth of his body.

Felix let out a soft whimper, his voice muffled against her skin. "You didn’t cuddle with me last night..." His words were laced with an almost childlike sadness, his lower lip protruding in a small, endearing pout.

Y/N’s heart tugged, and she felt a wave of guilt rush over her. Felix always craved her attention, often joking about it, but tonight was different. He needed her, and she hadn't been there. "I’m sorry, Lix," she whispered, her fingers brushing through his hair again. "I had so much work to do. It was a long night…"

"I know, but still…" His voice faltered, and he tightened his hold around her waist, his body curling further into hers, as if trying to get as close as physically possible. "You’ve been working so much. You don’t even have time for me anymore."

The guilt in her chest tightened. Felix was right. He was always by her side, but recently, the overwhelming weight of her responsibilities had kept them apart. "Baby," she started, her voice low, "I'm really sorry. It wasn’t intentional."

Felix looked up at her with big, wide eyes, his brow furrowed in that familiar, pouty expression she knew too well. His voice wavered, vulnerable. "But… I don’t get it, Y/N. You’re always with Han and everyone else. When it’s my turn… I’m always the last one."

She felt her chest tighten at his words. This wasn’t how she had intended for him to feel, but exhaustion clouded her thoughts, making it hard to communicate. "Sunshine," she interrupted gently, her tone more fatigued than she intended. "Can we talk later? I’m just so tired right now."

Felix’s face shifted, a flash of hurt crossing his features. "Fine. If you don’t love me anymore, just say that. You’re always laying up with Han and the rest, and when it comes to me, you just ignore me…" His voice cracked as he pulled away from her, slipping out of her grip. His body shifted away as he sat up, the room feeling much colder without him against her.

"Felix, it’s not like that," Y/N protested, frustration rising as she tried to reach for him, her tiredness now turning into worry. "I promise, I do love you. I just—"

"Whatever," he muttered, his tone sharp now, tinged with bitterness. He stood up, pacing away from her bed. "You don’t get it, Y/N. You’ve been too busy for me. I’m not going to sit here and beg for your attention anymore."

"Please, Lix," Y/N pleaded softly, trying to push herself up from the bed, but her body felt like lead, heavy with exhaustion. "I’ve been up all night, but I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry."

Felix turned to her, his back facing her as he stood by the door, frustration radiating off him. "I get it, okay? You’ve got a million things on your plate. But it’s fine. It’s whatever." His words dripped with resentment, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of the conversation had drained him.

Y/N’s heart sank as she watched him storm out of the room, the door shutting behind him with a soft thud. She sank back into her bed, her mind reeling with guilt and exhaustion.

She hadn't wanted things to get like this, but as she lay there, her eyelids fluttering shut again, she couldn’t help but wonder if the rift between them had gotten too wide to fix with just a few apologies.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Don't forget to reblog and follow! <3

A/N: Thank you anon!

Taglist: @ihrtlix@bowsnbang@katsukis1wife@thegingerthatwaited@thicccurls

@xxeiraxx @paleangelsweets @klaydohart @eastleighsblog @ivrespace

@galaxy4489 @purplepursepaint @catlove83 @sillystormsstuff @iwuberic

@cocofia143 @royal-shinigami @virluna148 @galaxycatdrawz @memersanonymous

@skz-stay13 @seungminsbest @hogwartslife64 @sinfulfic @hyunnesblog

@maisyyyyyy @cluelessred3 @leezanetheofficial @cocofia143 @lemonn015

@kkamismom12 @mei0packet @igetcarriedawaywithyou @hyuneyeon

(open: i believe i've added everyone but if you don't see your @ please comment down below)

[lazysoulwriter]

My Man, My Rules - Rafe Cameron

There was a fight. Of course, there was a fight.

Because Rafe Cameron couldn’t go one week without being knee-deep in some rich-kid drama.

And as usual, it all started with some guy looking at him the wrong way. Or maybe breathing too close. Or—God forbid—standing within a five-foot radius of her.

So now, here he was, blood dripping from his nose, shirt torn at the collar, grinning like he just won a championship fight, while his friends stood around awkwardly, avoiding her gaze.

She, on the other hand, was livid.

“Oh, great. Just fucking great,” she started, storming up to him. “Again, Rafe? You really have one brain cell, and you let Topper borrow it for the night, huh?”

“Baby—”

“No.” She raised a finger, effectively shutting him up. “I swear to God, Cameron, if you get into one more fight, I will personally beat your ass myself.”

The entire party went silent.

Kelce let out a low whistle. Topper looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole. Even the guy Rafe had just fought—some dude from Chapel Hill who probably just wanted a beer—was staring like he had just witnessed something far more terrifying than Rafe Cameron’s right hook.

Rafe, though? He just looked amused.

“You done?” he asked, licking his busted lip.

She stepped closer, grabbing his face with both hands. “Oh, I am not done. In fact, I’m just getting started. Because you know what, Rafe? You’re mine. My man. And that means I get to decide if you’re allowed to get your dumb ass into fights.”

He blinked. “I’m… not allowed?”

“That’s right,” she snapped. “Not. Allowed. What the fuck do you think this is? Some fight club for trust fund babies? No, sir. We are done with this. From now on, I make the rules. You got a problem with someone? You tell me. You feel like punching someone? You tell me. You wanna get your knuckles bloody? I will find you a punching bag, Rafe Cameron, but it will NOT be at a fucking country club party.”

Rafe looked at her for a long second. Then, he smirked. “Kinda hot when you boss me around like that.”

She groaned, letting go of his face only to smack the back of his head. “Are you hearing me? You are banned from fighting. BANNED.”

“Banned?”

“BANNED.”

“…Like, for life?”

“Oh my fucking God—”

She turned to the crowd, gesturing wildly. “Does ANYONE else want to tell this idiot what I’m saying before I lose my mind?”

Kelce coughed. “I think she means you’re not supposed to fight anymore, bro.”

Rafe scoffed. “Yeah, no shit, Kelce—”

She grabbed his chin again, forcing him to look at her. “Do. You. Understand. Me?”

His smirk softened just a little. “Yeah, baby. I understand.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Do you really?”

“I do.” He leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to her nose. “I promise.”

She squinted, trying to decide if she believed him. Finally, she sighed and wiped some blood off his cheek with her sleeve. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“I am cute,” he agreed. “And strong. And—”

“Do not make me take it back, Cameron.”

He grinned, wrapping an arm around her waist. “C’mon, let’s get outta here.”

She sighed dramatically but let him pull her away. “Fine. But if I ever catch you fighting again—”

“I know, I know. You’ll beat my ass.”

“Damn right, I will.”

Rafe smirked, tugging her even closer. “My scary little girlfriend.”

She rolled her eyes. “And don’t you forget it.”

[worseandworsebytheday]

I had a whole long response typed out and I had to step away and I came back and it was gone so I’m going to have to abridge it because it was a masterpiece of a response and I can’t recreate it. In short elden ring lore is stupid it’s one selfcest god that crafted a bunch of incest demigods (curing mogh and the cursed half brother). The “dungeons” you speak of are mostly just caves and mines with a few legacy dungeons. Some of which are more annoying than interesting. Saying it’s “visually stunning” or whatever is stupid you’re comparing a current game to one over a decade old that honestly still looks great. But even so, simply comparing visuals is hardly a fair argument. Your pot man’s quest wasn’t sad it was stupid. Whack him out of a few holes and then shatter his ass in azula. I felt nothing doing it. Ranni and her ending were at least interesting and her as a character I actually liked. And she lead to the moonlight sword which is a staple of the games. Yes I know bloodborne and dark souls have insane lore but it’s actually good and worth looking into. Your beloved elden ring locations are big empty areas where you will either just wander around doing nothing or get annihilated by a rune bear or T. rex bird every 2 minutes. There’s no engagement. No imagination there. Skyrim had replayability. Multiple quest lines for factions or the open playability to just wander around and make your own story. I’m sorry you lack and and all ability to think outside of a stupidly structured game. The absolutely godawful takes I’ve been getting inundated with the past couple days are avail it’s bullshit I really expected better from all you stupid fucks. You remind me of when I was in highschool and idiots would say halo was better than Metroid because it “defined a genre” completely disregarding what came before. Or that master chief could ever take Samus in a fight simply because he was the newer guy and all they knew. You’re lucky my original reblog got deleted and I’m getting yelled at and this is all I could say back to you otherwise I’d have much better words than you’re a bumbling fucking moron with absolute shit tastes. Go choke on your shit opinions and enjoy your garbage ass fucking game. (I’ll update this post as I remember more things to add on if I do).

When I was mentioning the shitty locations I think I forgot to specifically name drop caelid. Can’t forget FUCKING CAELID SPECIFICALLY.

Also you think the only interesting location in DS1 is he dukes archive?! Motherfucker we got ash lake, the seat of the FUCKING MULTIVERSE. We’ve got, quite literally, hell, izalith. Oh and I don’t know how you got to the archives without passing through anor londo. Because you CAN NOT tell me that place wasn’t fucking stunning. And AND AND the way they BUILT the locations. Seeing izalith and ash lake from the tomb of giants. That not only has LORE REASONS but if you look at the 3D rendering of the maps IT ACTUALLY PHYSICALLY FUNCTIONS AS SUCH. Like literally the world building is top notch and you’re going to downplay ALL OF THIS?!?! Motherfucker get your fucking head out of your motherfucking anus and open your shit crusted eyes at the marvel you downplayed to “one interesting area”. And on top of that “oh boo hop the pot man was so sad” fucking SIF AND ARTORIAS. You want sad fucking...just fucking...now that I took a moment to re skim your response to me now I’m just fucking angry with you you fucking idiot among fucking idiots.

Like really your shit ass Fucking tastes about skyrim are bad enough but to lump bloodborne lore in with elden ring lore and then shit on dark souls world building?? Motherfucker I will physically fight you to the death over this one I’m not even messing around. That’s 3 real games you’ve dragged through the dirt defending the elden trash heap. Fuck all of you.

elder scrolls or elden ring. there is a right answer

Listen I love skyrim, but you have to be a bumbling fucking moron if you think it's better than Elden Ring!!!!

[xoxochb]

——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

a near heart attack the moment you awake from slumber was not how you wanted to start the day.

your body has been pushed to the very edge of the bed, on the verge of falling off. scared, you turn around to your side only to be met with a puddle of drool covering both percy’s chin and a large portion of the sheets.

“holy shit…” you murmur under your breath.

you sit upwards. instinctively, percy’s arm tightens around your waist. you remove it from your frame and await his eyes fluttering open. it’s only a few moments without feeling you beneath his fingertips that he wakes.

“I am going to kill you.”

his eyes squint, adjusting to the light of morning. you slap his head.

“what…?” his voice is raspy. you’re very glad you’re not standing right now.

“you drooled all over! and you took up the entire bed, I was about to fall off!”

he manages to sit up alongside you, his hand falling to the pool of his saliva that had fell onto the sheets. he pulls it back quickly.

“oh. sorry ‘bout that, sweet girl.” he smirks.

you hit his head again.

“I’m not laying back down until that is rectified.”

he frowns. but grabs a tissue from the bedside table and begins to sloppily wipe away his drool. it manages to contain about ninety-nine percent of it before he throws the tissue away.

“happy now, sweet girl?”

“yes, thank you.”

his smile returns. he takes your hand and places it on his chest, snaking his own arm around your waist.

“it’s cold in here,” you complain.

“that,” percy begins. his index runs along your spine. “is because you don’t have any clothes on.”

you scowl. “if I don’t need to wear clothes I don’t want to wear clothes.”

“I’m not complaining, sweet girl— just pointing it out.” he holds his unoccupied hand up defensively.

you slide farther against him to prevent yourself from falling off the edge. you do recall once when you had fallen because throughout the course of the night percy had subconsciously spread out into a position impossible for the both of you to fit.

you haven’t let that go since then.

“I don’t think I like sleeping with you very much.”

“awww, I thought you loved my—”

you place a finger to his lips with a disapproving look. “no.”

he nips at your finger until you pull it away. but his hand takes it back and he presses a kiss to it this time, trailing downwards to your palm, the back of your hand, and your wrist before placing your palm over his heartbeat.

it’s serene.

and unlike how you woke up, for the next five minutes you were able to enjoy peace and quiet! how great is that?

[bakuhatsufallinlove]

here’s the OTHER leaker translation I would explode out of existence

listen.

I know, okay?

I know everyone loves this. I know everyone lost their shit for it. But I hate it.

I will admit honestly that it is 70% abject fury over the misuse of one word. Another 20% is frustration over how the fandom reacted to the official translation with such vitriol and how the leaker fueled it with their smug comments. That final 10% amounts to what some might consider pedantic or nitpicky. But I don't care.

This translation sucks. It doesn't sound cool, it doesn't sound threatening, and the leaker's rookie mistakes ruin what makes this moment great for me.

Allow me to elaborate.

The emphasis is on the wrong part

I’ve talked about some of the pronoun differences in this line before, but did you know Katsuki also changes the particles every time?

‘Cause I sure don’t think the leaker noticed. Grammar particles are what determine the relationship between words in a sentence. They pack a lot of punch, denoting subject, object, indirect object, purpose, location, time, origin point, direction of movement, means or method—and a bunch more shit that can be hard to describe.

Word order and particles work together to direct our attention to specific parts of a sentence, emphasizing the importance of what is being said. They are some of the most difficult parts of Japanese for learners to grasp and use with the same ease that native speakers do. I’m acutely aware of this weakness, so I often pay particular attention to them. Let’s break down how each iteration shifts the meaning and emphasis of the base sentence.

First time

Chapter 322 おまえが拭えねぇもんは俺たちが拭う omae ga nuguenee mon wa oretachi ga nuguu

Katsuki uses ga with both the second person pronoun for Izuku and the first person plural pronoun for himself and Class 1-A. Ga emphasizes the word that comes directly before it, so this focuses not on the verb itself, but the persons doing the verb. Katsuki's first person plural pronoun oretachi of course means "we," but if you wanted to highlight his literal meaning, he's saying: "the things you cannot handle, me and the people with me will handle."

Second time

Chapter 323 てめーが拭えねーもんはこっちで拭う temee ga nuguenee mon wa kocchi de nuguu

Here, Katsuki retains ga for Izuku’s second person pronoun, but changes both his first person pronoun and its particle, giving us kocchi de. This shifts the implication of who is doing the act—the first time, Katsuki's "we" pronoun highlighted the classmates who accompanied him and acted with him to help save Izuku. But by the time he says this line again, a number of people outside their class have stepped forward to defend Izuku’s return to UA.

Unlike distinctly singular pronouns like ore, kocchi both refers to oneself and something greater than oneself. By switching to this, Katsuki expands that narrow “me and the people with me” into “our side,” presenting the people who support Izuku as a unified force.

You see, kocchi de subtly shifts the verb to being executed by subject(s) defined by a specific characteristic or condition.

Explanations of particle de from Mainichi Nonbiri. The heading and explanation read, "Subject: 'De' is used to denote the subject who deals with or engages in the action expressed by the predicate."

The first example uses jibun de (by oneself) to describe the conditions under which the listener is asked to execute the verb. The third uses gikai de (in the parliament or by the parliament, as a governing body representing many people) to explain the plurality and nature of the subject executing the verb.

The second example uses socchi de, which is the second person "you" version of kocchi, meaning your side. With this, you can see the purpose is to highlight division: "you did that over there on your side of things without any input from me."

Kocchi de as Katsuki uses it likewise creates "sides" by highlighting connection.

These details emphasize Izuku as the person who cannot handle these things and the relationship he has with the people supporting him, a collective Katsuki aligns himself with.

If we maintain this emphasis and the conditions in a literal way, we have: "The things you cannot handle, our side will handle for you."

Third time

Chapter 405 OFA(あいつ)に拭えねーもんはこっちで拭うってなあぁああ！！！ OFA (aitsu) ni nuguenee mon wa kocchi de nuguutte naaaa!!!

I want you to look really close at the particle ni.

Then look at the way the first word balloon ends with the particle wa.

And hear me when I say that this does not emphasize Izuku.

Ni is not a particle for emphasis. If Izuku's personal inability to handle AFO were being highlighted, Katsuki could have used には, which I talk about briefly in this post:

The combination of the two particles ni and wa are used to emphasize, compare, and contrast. This is extremely telling just on its own. Izuku is emphasizing the fact that, compared to everyone he could possibly tell, he cannot tell Katsuki this. He might be able to tell other people, but when it comes to Katsuki, he cannot. Ienai does not specify where the limitation stems from, but ni wa sure implies it.

If Katsuki wanted to disparage Izuku in comparison to himself, like "that guy obviously can't handle you, so I'll do it," he would have said something like this. He even could have slapped his own singular pronoun and ga in there (俺が拭う) to emphasize himself as an individual actor. But that's not what he did.

The particle wa tells us what the topic is. Neither Katsuki nor Izuku are the topic in any iteration of this line; they are subjects engaging with the verbs. The topic is "the things OFA (that guy) can't handle."

Now, because every other time Katsuki said this line had ga in it too, wa wasn't quite as strong as it is this third time. If ga emphasizes what comes before it, then wa emphasizes what comes after. It tells us, "this is the topic, now hold onto your seats."

Katsuki is emphasizing the predicate and the verb. What's gonna happen and how it's gonna happen.

He's saying, "our side is gonna fucking crush you."

The wa particle and the separate balloons build tension, suspense, and excitement—which the leaker instantly deflates. By front-loading Katsuki as both topic and subject ("I'm the guy"), the emphasis is no longer on the promise of destruction he will deliver on.

The emphasis is indisputably on the part after the balloon break, so the mention of Izuku ("when that nerd can't handle it all on his own") reads weirdly like an insult. Hell, most of the words the leaker uses are about Izuku's inability to handle the situation, which bloat the second half of the line and effectively kill the momentum.

Fumbling the flow of a line is a common mistake for amateur translators. Sometimes, it's hard to avoid because Japanese grammar is often the inverse of English grammar; maintaining the original order may render it awkward or even unintelligible.

But that is not the case here.

pikahlua's literal translation

There's no reason to reorder the clauses. You can spruce up the wording, but the lines are perfectly understandable and effective in this order even at their most literal.

The leaker chose to reorder the lines this way, and their translation is worse for it.

Viz Comparison

Official translation by Viz

After what I've said about particles, pacing, and emphasis, I think you can plainly see that the official translator understood these details and made his own choices to highlight them.

Any time you get text with furigana (explained here), you have to decide how to incorporate those dual pieces of information into the text. He could have translated this as "that guy couldn't keep you in the ground," but instead he prioritized the reference to OFA.

By doing this, Viz's translation avoids the implication of insult towards Izuku that the leaker falls prey to.

He also made the choice to translate kocchi as "we."

First, I’m bringing this post back around to remind people that kocchi is a pronoun of ambiguous plurality. This means that an interpretation of “we” is just as correct as an interpretation of “I.” Readers may interpret it differently, but on simply linguistic grounds, they are of equal validity. You will often see this kind of ambiguous language used in Japanese, even with characters that are forthright. The reason is one part cultural expectation that the listener will read between the lines, and one part a willingness to accept two things as simultaneously true. This exists and is frequently found in English as well, there just isn’t a direct parallel for kocchi itself.

A number of people were infuriated by this, because they felt some sort of bkdk moment was erased by Katsuki saying "we" rather than "I."

Yet it seemed like these same people were also mad one week prior when the leaker and the official translator worded Katsuki's rallying cry slightly differently.

Chapter 404. Leaker, left. Official, right.

The claim there was apparently that the official translator was ignoring Katsuki's character development.

And like, which is it, guys? Do you want him centering the collective or himself?

The fact is that the official translation's characterization of Katsuki in the final battle is internally consistent with itself, while the leaker's is all over the goddamn place. Let us never forget that the leaker was just straight up WRONG here while the official got it exactly right.

Chapter 408. Leaker, left. Official, right.

People were losing their shit that Viz made Katsuki "insult himself" and "expect failure" as though he's never used temee to refer to himself self-deprecatingly before.

And then the leaker just had to pretend that didn't happen in the next fucking chapter, while the official got to correctly reiterate their interpretation like they were taking a victory lap.

Chapter 409. Leaker, left. Official, right.

All of this makes it unbelievably rich for the leaker to go and say shit like this:

The leaker is an amateur translator. They spent ages stealing an artist's work and releasing it illegally for a profit with shoddy translations and misleading, even outright false "summaries."

Based on the nature of their translation mistakes, it is obvious to me that they are not fluent in Japanese, yet here they are bragging about their inability to understand how kocchi could mean "we."

Right before the line in question, Katsuki emphasizes himself as an individual in declaring himself to be the final boss.

Chapter 405 俺がラスボスだ AFO!! ore ga rasu bosu da AFO!!

And then, by using ってな, Katsuki is basically quoting himself.

"I said we were gonna handle what that guy couldn't, didn't I!?"

This suggests he is repeating the established meaning for emphasis, not changing it. If kocchi was plural when he said it in chapter 323, it's reasonable for it to still be plural here. Katsuki is not ignoring himself as an individual by doing this; he is rubbing it in AFO's face that neither he nor Izuku are solitary actors fighting this battle alone, they both belong to something greater than themselves.

I'm gonna step up on a soapbox for a bit.

I am kinda tired of people calling Japanese vague. I often see it used to imply Japanese is inherently hard to understand or that it doesn't have the capacity for specificity. Like any language, Japanese can be used to express specific, clear, and direct information. While it is true Japanese culture values indirectness as a way to maintain harmony, I would like to challenge the ethnocentricism I feel sometimes goes unaddressed in this topic.

Japanese is less tolerant of repetition and verbal excess than English is; information that has been established should only be repeated for a purpose. Japanese speakers expect their conversation partners to maintain awareness of context, social expectations, and specific interpersonal information to grasp the intended meaning of their words. Specificity is doled out when it is warranted or desired.

Specificity divides one thing from another, drawing lines in the sand and saying "this is this, and that is that." English often requires repetitive specificity to even be grammatically comprehensible. And while this might not be directly related, many English-speaking countries tend to have a more individualistic outlook on society than collectivist countries like Japan.

To me, "vague" often smacks of a value judgment: "there should be division here, and there isn't."

I said earlier that kocchi creates division by highlighting sides, us vs. them, but when people press on and ask, "but did he say we or I? which did he REALLY mean?" I just want to say that really? truly? he meant both. all of the above.

I think it is unproductive to think of Japanese as vague just because it doesn't exclude possibilities as often or as strongly as English does. I think it is a lot more useful and interesting to think of Japanese as expansive.

Why should there be division between Katsuki and the people fighting by his side? Why should he separate himself from the people who saved his life and risked their own in relentless pursuit of their common, heroic goal?

Why is it unacceptable to imagine an "I" belonging so sincerely and wholly to a "we" that their voices are one?

Katsuki's words reflect the fact that this fight being fought by a collective, a team.

In this context, OFA is a weapon in their arsenal, just as Katsuki himself is.

He is a force of nature, an agent of their willpower.

Chapter 404

He rode upon the winds of their prayers, ushered on by Izuku's hopes

and his own regrets,

to change the course of fate itself.

For much of the series, Katsuki is our beacon of individualism, of defiant refusal to bend to the will and expectations of others.

But Katsuki is also our image of victory. He shows us how to face our failures and change our hearts. He is our proof that rejecting others only hurts us in the end—his love for Izuku and Izuku's love for him is the story's greatest proof that as human beings, we are not better alone, we are better with each other. Other people change us, inspire us, and we do the same for them.

We need each other. We belong to each other.

It is in this final battle where Katsuki becomes his truest self, overcoming every obstacle in his path, making up for every painful regret in his heart, and utilizing every single thing in his grasp to save and win.

If Katsuki ever truly belonged to something bigger than himself, it is in this moment right here.

English divides the one from the many, and while that has its benefits, I think there is real, honest beauty to be found in a word that smooths those lines in the sand until there is no distinction at all.

That's who the fucking "we" is, rukasu.

Now onto my next gripe.

Katsuki is supposed to sound badass here

Frankly, the fan fury surrounding Viz's use of "we" completely overshadowed the fact that the phrase "One For All couldn't keep you in the ground" is fucking metal.

It rules. I'm fucking jealous I didn't write those words. It is such a good translation and it packs so much punch and I wouldn't have thought of it in a thousand years.

The official translator focuses his efforts on genre-specific tone translation, and sometimes he really nails it. I will freely admit that I find his style grating or overwrought at times, and indeed, one of his key weaknesses is that the flavor of comic-book dialogue he pulls from can sound one generation too old to be cool.

One of the most damning examples of this is him having Katsuki utter the word "bub"—

Chapter 406

—which I think no English-speaker under the age of 30 had actually heard before Deadpool & Wolverine came out.

Honestly, if you just read Wolverine comics from the 80s, 90s, and early 2000s, you can see the character archetype he leans into for Katsuki's dialogue. 405's tagged-on "—and then some!!" is straight out of American action movies.

But the main point here is that Katsuki is taunting AFO and threatening him. He blows up AFO's face, announces himself as the final boss, then vows to kick his ass to death on behalf of everyone. It's amazing.

The line sounds cool as fuck in Japanese. The "naaaa" flourish at the end is nearly untranslatable in any direct way that still captures the appeal and impact of it.

I tend to think of sentence enders like this as flavor text or tone tags. To properly convey them in English, you may have to add a bunch of words, and you have to choose them carefully.

All of this is to say, the official translation tries pretty hard to make Katsuki sound cool. Do they succeed? I think to an extent, they do.

I actually think it's possible the translator did recognize the callback, but wasn't satisfied with the effect of repeating it. You can see that "finish the job" is supposed to link Izuku's actions to theirs, while also sounding grandiose and final.

The Viz translator might've simply prioritized showcasing the cool-guy threat while maintaining the collectivist angle, rather than matching the callback word for word. I don't really think that's the best choice, but I can see why it might be made.

The leaker's translation doesn't make any real effort to up the ante. Maybe this line is cool to somebody, but it ain't me.

In fact, are we ever gonna acknowledge that the leaker's translation just scoops up most of its wording from the official release of chapters 322 and 323?

"I'm the guy who steps in when that nerd can't handle it all on his own!!"

The leaker was not responsible for these translations, but just look at how other people tried to grapple with Katsuki's metaphor.

In fact, the only person whose choice of words prophetically matched Viz was pikahlua, four days before the official release:

And even then, you can see that "step in when" is unique to Viz.

I'm not saying that similarities in translation are unacceptable or that directly referencing the official release is bad, but I do find it truly incredible they had the gall to shit-talk the official translator after cheating off his damn homework.

The leaker basically contributed six words: "I'm the guy who" and "that nerd." I personally disagree with "the guy who" as a translation addition, just because I think it too strongly isolates him in a way that using "I" and "I'm" by themselves do not, but it wouldn't have been terrible if they had also maintained the original clause order: "One For All couldn't handle you... but I'm the guy who—", something like that.

This brings us to my final gripe.

Katsuki did not say “that nerd.”

The leaker made that shit up, they inserted it for no reason and ignored the two pronouns the original text actually provides, OFA and aitsu (that guy).

In the manga, Katsuki has never called Izuku a nerd to villains, not once. It is rare for him to use it while speaking to someone other than Izuku, period. It’s an insulting pet name he uses towards Izuku or while muttering angrily to himself about Izuku.

To be clear, the narrator who uses "shitty nerd" is not Katsuki, they merely validate the accuracy of his nickname for Izuku. Yes, I just linked to my tag for the whole damn 348 chapter, because I've argued against this theory a lot, just read 'em all, it's a good time.

By my count, he only uses it once while talking to Todoroki in chapter 42 and once to Ochako in a 5-page bonus chapter for the first character guide, set shortly after chapter 65. Both take place very early in the series and both are examples of his intense grudge against Izuku.

Did you know that the last time Katsuki uses "nerd" towards Izuku directly is in chapter 320?

Who's ignoring Katsuki's character development again?

The fact is the word doesn't exist in 405's text, and there just isn't precedent for him to say it to All For One.

Trash-talk doesn’t work if your opponent has no clue what the hell you’re talking about. AFO would have no idea who “that nerd” is even supposed to be, because they were not already discussing Izuku, unlike both canon instances of Katsuki using it in conversation with others. The audibly-pronounced aitsu just means "that guy over there (physically near neither you nor me)" and you could argue that is unclear, too, but it's relatively neutral and context clues everyone in to the fact that he means Izuku, with whom he just did an explosive, flying duo move.

I think some bkdk fans were keen to see him use the tsundere insult we all love so much, but it just doesn't read right to me. Writing an insult towards Izuku into this kind of line, even an affectionate one, misdirects the aggression and fails to highlight how Katsuki makes a mockery of AFO during their fight.

I really do think it undercuts how, in his big moment of taunting the greatest villain in history, Katsuki brings up making good on a vow he made to Izuku.

And let's not forget that there is a definitive moment where Katsuki references his relationship with Izuku while taunting AFO:

Chapter 406

To roast the villain for his stupidity in misidentifying him, Katsuki loudly announces himself to be Bakugou no Kacchan.

Katsuki proudly identifies himself with the cutesy nickname his childhood friend has used for him their whole damn lives. That's a far cry from somebody who'd insult Izuku just to hype himself up.

So, no, I don't accept "that nerd." I think the leaker just added it to make their translation sound cooler, but they did so at the expense of Katsuki's character. It's tacky, cheap, and not based in any honest reading of the text.

Put the nickname in your fanworks however brings you joy. Really, go for it, I know I sure do!

But let's not pretend Katsuki said it here.

In conclusion

Katsuki's dialogue offers a unique array of challenges to translators. I would never argue that he is easy to translate, and so much of his characterization is expressed in the minutiae of what he says. Much of his dialogue contains layers of meaning, and any translator is going to have to make a call about how to interpret those layers and what to highlight.

I made this post to say my piece about a translation tons of English-speaking fans love. In the process of dissecting what frustrated me about it, I researched and studied and learned so much.

And to be honest with you, I don't know that I have a solution for this line. I thought of a ton of options:

One For All couldn't keep you in the ground... but we're here to step in and finish the job once and for all!!

I promised we'd step in when that guy couldn't handle it on his own... and I fucking meant it!!

After all, what One For All can't handle... he's got us here to handle for him!!

One For All couldn't stop you… so it's a good thing that guy's got us here to step in and finish the job!!

If the guy with One For All can't get it done alone... then we're here take you down for him!!

Maybe One For All couldn't handle the job alone... but our side is still gonna kick your ass!!

Some of them are very fun, and each highlights a different set of priorities: collectivism, connection, coolness, intimidation, and so on.

But you could pick apart my words the same way I picked apart the leaker's and Viz's.

There will never be a one true translation. There can't be. For as many readers as there are, there are just as many interpretations to what Katsuki's words mean and what is important about them.

In every translation, you face loss—loss of information, loss of specificity, loss of ambiguity, loss of emotionality, loss of cultural meaning. Your job as a translator is to lose as little as possible, and to make sure you can stomach the things you do lose.

You also gain things in translation. New meanings, new layers, new cultural implications. By showing the audience what you see and choosing how you say it to them, you add something of yourself to the work. You can't not.

As a translator, I want to keep learning and trying and going beyond. I want to do right by the things I translate. I want to share the things I love with other people and figure out, as best I can, how to make them see what is beautiful about it.

Unlike Bakugou Katsuki, we translators can never achieve a perfect victory.

But it's always worth trying.

[tailorofdeath13]

Parseltongue Black brothers

september

Sirius: *hisses at Regulus in the Great Hall*

Regulus: *rolls his eyes and frowns*

Remus: “The fuck was that?”

Sirius: “Oh, nothing.”

november

Regulus: *face red, nostrils flared and hisses like a mad man at Sirius in the Transfiguration Courtyard*

Sirius: *laughs his brother in the face and walks away*

Barty: “Are you a kettle? What was that noise?”

Regulus: “Shut up, Barty.”

march

*Sirius and Regulus having a hissing match on the Quidditch pitch, Sirius throwing his hands around wildly while Regulus just looks like he might explode on the spot*

Remus: “Oi, Prongs, do you think it’s the inbreeding?”

James: “I have no idea, but this is scary. They look like they are talking or something.”

may

*Barty wakes up in the middle of the night to a strange sound*

*sees that Regulus is sitting on his bed, notes and books all around him, frantic look on his face, Lumos shines from his wand*

Barty: “Reg, you forgot to draw your curtains again, and for the love of Merlin, shut the fuck up, you are quite scary while doing that.”

Regulus: “Whatever.” *quickly draws the curtains around his bed and throws up a Muffliato*

june

*the Black brothers are standing in the middle of the corridor, yelling in English and French at each other and occasionally emitting strange hissing noises, the skittles and marauders just standing and looking at each other like ?!?!?!*

Peter: “Shouldn’t we like… do something?”

Barty: “No, I want to see who curses who first. My bet is on Regulus.” *fist bumps with Evan*

James: “Pads, don’t… just…”

*Dumbledore materialises from thin air*

Dumbledore: “Now, now, gentlemen…”

*the brothers freeze mid-hissing and the others are murmuring every variation of “thank Merlin”*

Dumbledore: “Ah, parseltongue, how rare of a skill! Delightful” *toodles away*

Evan: “…parseltongue?”

Lily: *sighing and rolling her eyes so hard they almost fall out of her head* “Yes, they are parselmouth. They can speak the language of snakes. It’s a rare ability; it leads back all the way to Salazar Slytherin. The legend says only his true descendants are able to speak Parseltongue.”

*everyone and their mother loses their shit and starts a screaming match with both of the brothers*

i got inspired by @noblehouseofgay

[dumbgoondog]

Sukuna NSFW Alphabet

MDNI +18 NSFW

Cw/Tw - cannibalism, blood, pregnancy

(A)ftercare - Your brains are mush, you’re covered in bruises, tears stain your face, wrists sore, bleeding in places from nails and biting, voice hoarse and dry. Then here he is, the disgraced one, the fallen, the king of curses, the man who fucked you like he hated you! Here he is gently scooping you up, massaging you, purring, his stomach mouth affectionately licking at any wounds. Carrying you to the bath, holding you to himself in the water, washing you gently, your body and hair. Using RCT output to ease any pain and aches. Praising you and treasuring you. PLEASE remember that your dom needs aftercare too. He needs to know you love him, that he wasn’t too rough, that he isn’t a monster to you. Please let him be gentle with you and you acknowledge it.

(B)ody Part - your hands. Not because it’s sexual but because if he goes blind he’ll know the gentle touch of your hands, he’ll know how you feel. How your hands don’t shy away from him, how you don’t hesitate to hold his hands. But also yes, he loves your hands grabbing at him, holding his face, stroking him, pinned beneath one of his hands.

(C)um - inside. Bella that your mouth or your hole(s). There’s a LOT so it will spill out and get every where. He likes watching it overflow

(D)irty Secret - this man has no dirty secrets. He tells it to you like it is and how he wants it… there is one thing tho. He wants to eat you. Like a religious act of worship and devotion to himself. You thought I was gonna say you yeah? Nah, that bitch has an ego. He will heal you after tho so no worries!

(E)xperience - None. Ryomen No Bitches Sukuna. I do not think he took any concubines, or consorts or anything of the sort. Pleasures of the mortal flesh… you think anyone could find pleasure in his visage without being batshit or forced? (Yorozu.) he would never force anyone too and would rather not be aware that they’re doing it for power but think he’s repulsive. that is until you.

(F)avorite Position - riding, facing him, on his throne. He likes watching you, and his stomach mouth likes licking you. This giant grabs you with all four arms and is using you like a fleshlight.

(G)oofy - He’s goofy. I see to many people make him so deadpan and stoic and “ooo I’m such a cool and sadistic top”. Bro bffr, this bitch incarnated and came out kicking his feet giggling goin “Women and children!!! Maggots for the slaughter!!!” And ripped. Off. His. Shirt. He was dancing dodging Fushiguro in their first fight. He took a bow when fighting Maharaga. He’s so silly. He praises and encourages his opponents in battle even! If something dumb happens or there’s a funny noise he’s gonna laugh. He wants you to laugh at him if he does something stupid too!

(H)air - thick messy pink hair, happy trail, and a trail down his balls too. Washed, semi groomed, smells pretty okay tbh. Light metallic undertone tho. It’s the blood of his foes.

(I)ntimacy - he fucks you like a wild beast. Growling, snarling, no words, biting, grunting. The moment you use a safe word? The moment somethings wrong? He’s stopping to make sure he hasn’t gone too far.

He’s also secretly a romantic. He knows flower language very well, and gets you flowers often(regardless of gender.) flower language and symbolism was big in the heian era, so was poetry. Sometimes he writes you poems never show anyone tho. They’re just for you.

(J)ack off - sometimes. Great stress reliever, passes time, helps when he’s bored, thinks it’s funny when he does it on his throne and there are his servants just having to stand on standby. What a power move.

(K)ink - blood, obviously. Biting and marking, duh. But hear me out on this. Primal. I’m talking hunt chase, both of you acting feral, like prey and predator. ABO that shit I guess. Submit to baser instincts, no talking just raw noises. Yeah I’m so right y’all don’t even know it(now you do tho)

(L)ocation - the throne is to obvious, the bed is a classic…and honestly I think it’s the bed. I got no reasons, just is how it is.

(M)otivation - working out, sparring, or after eating a big meal. Something about those activities puts him in the mood.

(N)o - He will not involve Uraume, he found them when they were a young kid and has helped raise them. Even if not related he was a late teen/young adult and he raised them from bein little

(O)ral - No, he HATES putting you in his mouth cause you taste baaaaddd. Fuck he loves eating, sucking, licking, he’s a hungry man. A big hungry man. Any position, anytime, let him use his stomach mouth. He knows it’s big and his teeth are sharp but god he loves having you ride his tongue and kiss you, watch you squirm.

(P)ace - he’s rough, hard, and a medium pace. Fast isn’t always good, especially when he likes being precise with every thrust. Feeling you squeeze and his tip bullying into you.

(Q)uicky - sometimes, it only if he’s getting to eat or suck you off. Quickys don’t work when you’re as big as him, you need prepping! He wishes though. He’s kinda a perv cuz he wants you smell like him and full of his cum often.

(R)isk - he’s up to try new things! There are some things he doesn’t understand and might make fun of tho. Like feet. He feels like a guy who mocks feet lovers. He doesn’t want to try it, he doesn’t care he “might” like it, he thinks it’s stupid.(his loss tbh)

(S)tamina - Much to the horror of everyone, like Kenjaku, he hasn’t tapped out ever. Despite his sweating and panting he isn’t done. Tbh he might have more stamina than Kenjaku. I need Sukuna bitching Kenjaku…

(T)oys - he fucking loves watching you use toys on yourself, not much on himself tho. He’s a freak fr fr cuz he got you plugs so after he’s cum in you he’ll plug you up. You better believe they’re custom too, it’s his blood as a jewel on the end. He’s so smug about it.

(U)nfair - as much as he loved teasing or you being a brat, he’s pretty patient but once he’s ready to go it all stops. He does like teasing you in public and some light humiliation in front of friends!

(V)olume - Growls. Grunts. Groans. Feral noises. He’s not loud loud, but he ain’t quiet. For any passing by it sounds like an animal is fighting someone in there.

(W)ild Card - he doesn’t have a pregnancy kink. Let me make that very clear. However. If he can get you pregnant expect his hands on you constantly. He’s super protective and clingy, always needs to be touching your belly. It will get annoying, cause he won’t let you piss alone. He’s also stealing titty milk. He says it’s to help you and the baby but you know he’s just a little freak. Back to the baby tho. He genuinely might start hiding the bad that he does because for once he’s like “I’m not destroying or cursing, I’m creating life, something precious.” He does have some outbursts tho and might go on rampages cuz he’s so stressed, scared, and full of emotions. He NEVER takes it out on you tho.

(X)-ray - it’s that ancient Japanese thong. He refused anything else. It’s comfortable, breathable, and one of the one things that doesn’t squeeze the life out of his dicks.

(Y)es - Worship roleplay, sacrifice roleplay, he likes it! Him being THE Ryomen Sukuna, and getting to play into that is fun! He’d be up for a “captured the king of curses and having your way with him” roleplay too.

(Z)zz - Cuddle up after a bath, eat a bit, and then he’s snoring. Or is he practicing his bear impression? Either way get comfy, if you’re not sleeping, you sure as hell aren’t leaving.

[lady-lostmind]

GIVE A SHIT

Written for @steddiebingo Kissing Booth Prompt: Dress Up

Rating: T | WC: 631

Thank you @oh-stars for betaing!!

“This is stupid, Buckley. I look like an idiot. This is never going to work.” Eddie’s face scrunches in disgust as he stares in the mirror, tugging at the secondhand suit jacket Robin shoved onto his shoulders. 

Robin rolls her eyes, “You always look like an idiot.” She pulls Eddie to face her and wraps a tie around his neck. “You guys have been dancing around each other for too long. It’s getting ridiculous.”

Eddie scoffs. “And you think this–” He gestures to himself in his best, non-ripped black jeans, black dress shirt, and the stupid fucking jacket. “Is the solution?”

Robin glares at him while she ties the tie. “No. I think you getting your head out of your ass and actually making a move is the solution.” 

“And this is the move? Dressing like some yuppie in a suit!?” 

Robin flicks him on the forehead, grinning meanly when he yelps and rubs the sore spot. “I think actually making an effort and showing Steve you actually give a shit, is the move.” 

Eddie’s face drops. “Is that what he thinks? That I don’t give a shit?” 

Robin sighs and she smoothes out his tie. “Steve doesn’t think anyone gives a shit about him.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Even I have to constantly remind him or he gets all in his head about it and pulls away.” 

Eddie shakes his head, looking down at his ridiculous outfit with a sigh. “Do I buy him flowers?”

He glances back up and sees Robin smiling widely. “I think that’s a great idea.” 

Eddie shows up at Steve’s house with a bouquet of roses, and a baggie of weed, feeling ridiculous as he knocks on the door. He wants to be with Steve. And Robin is right. They’ve been dancing around this for close to a year. But he doesn’t know how to do this. He’s not– He’s never really had a relationship. He’s never really cared that much. He’s never–

Steve opens the door, eyes going wide when he sees Eddie. “Eds, what–”

“I give a shit.” Great. Really solid start, Eddie.

Steve’s brow furrows. “Okay–”

Eddie sighs, pushing past Steve and pushing the flowers to his chest. “These are for you.”

Steve’s eyes go all sparkly as he looks down at the flowers in his hand, a little smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

Eddie starts pacing. “I’m not good at this, okay? I know I’ve probably been fucking this up, majorly, and I’m sorry about that. And I know you deserve better than a trailer trash freak but–”

Steve’s face goes soft. “Eds–”

Eddie shakes his head. “I know, I know. But please, just hear me out, okay? Robin said I have a shot. And I figure she knows. And I know this–” He gestures to himself and the flowers. “Is all a little cheesy and over the top but I do give a shit. About you. I give a lot of shits about you. All the shits, honestly and–”

Steve takes a step forward. “Eds–”

Eddie shakes his head holding his hands out in front of him. “I know I’m probably not what you imagined for your life. I know this is–” He sighs. “I just want you to be happy. And I think that maybe– Maybe I can make you happy. If you give me a chance.”

Steve crosses his arms over his chest with a sigh and Eddie’s heart sinks. “Are you done?”

Eddie stops pacing in front of him, his body slumping in defeat. He knew this was a bad idea. “Yeah. I guess I am.”

Steve smiles, wide and cocky as he strides forward. “Good.” He cups Eddie’s jaw and leans in close. “Because I’m going to kiss you now.”

[kteezy997]

Beyond Business-part twelve//t.c.

Warnings: smut, cursing, smut, cum on body, smut, fluff, dirty talk

This one is long, but it is a smutfest

“You don’t really own any skirts, do you?” Timmy asked you randomly that Monday morning. Luckily, it was only the two of you at his place.

“What?” you frowned slightly at him, having to look up from the laptop.

“Skirts. You never wear them.” he said plainly.

“No? Is that a new requirement or something?” you joked.

He pressed his lips together, shrugging, “Maybe just a suggestion. Take my card to whatever stores you like and buy yourself some skirts.”

“And why should I do that?”

He smirked, walking around the kitchen island to where you were sitting, leaning in close, he said, “Because your boyfriend needs easy access.” He placed his hand on your denim-clad thigh, slowly letting it roam inward.

You gasped as he hovered over your pussy.

“See? Wouldn’t it be better if your jeans weren’t in the way right now?” he pressed his fingers against you through the material, circling slowly.

You swallowed, clearing your throat, “Timothée.”

He leaned in closer to your face, “I want you right now.”

“But we’re working.” you fake protested.

“It can wait.” he said, pulling your chair out, grabbing you by the arm and throwing you over his shoulder.

……

“Aw, yesss!” you cried, gripping the sheets hard as Timmy had you bent over the bed. His hips smacked your ass rapidly as his cock plunged in and out of you.

“Oh, baby…my baby girl. Fuck, you feel so good.” his voice quivered with pleasure. He dug his fingers into your hips, holding you up as you were trembling and unable to keep up on your knees.

You threw your hair back with a huff and caught glimpse of the alarm clock on the nightstand, “Fuck! Timmy, Josh Safdie is calling you in five minutes!”

“That’s all the time we need.” he assured you, ramming his cock in you even faster.

You yelped in surprise, your toes curling as he brought you over the edge of an orgasm.

……….

Timmy had his phone to his ear, talking to his director as he wiped his cum off your belly with a damp cloth.

You couldn’t help but giggle at situation.

He gave you a mock angry look and you covered your mouth, still laughing. “No, Josh, it’s not a bad time. That’s just my assistant being a goofball. But yeah, that all sounds great.”

As he wrapped up the phone call, you took the used cloth to the hamper in the bathroom, using the facility before returning to Timmy’s bedroom. You couldn’t help but notice how comfortable you had become in his place. Yes, it was the setting in which you worked often, but it started to feel like home. He felt like home.

You walked back into his room, grabbing his big t-shirt that he had been wearing earlier, but it had been thrown to the floor. You put the shirt on and sat on the bed as he was saying goodbye to Josh.

“Hey, that’s my shirt.” he teased.

“Sorry, do you want me to take it off?” you smiled cheekily.

Timmy shrugged, eyebrows raised, “I mean, you look great in clothes, but I think I like you out of them just a little bit more.”

“Hm, of course you do you.” you said with a playful eye roll.

“So, are ready to go to Tokyo with me?” he asked you nonchalantly and climbed onto you.

“Tokyo? So filming is still on for Marty Supreme?”

“Yeah, everything is being settled now." he rested his arms over your belly, setting his chin there. "And I want you to come with me.”

“As your assistant or…?”

“My girlfriend and my assistant.” he affirmed. “I need you there with me. You help me with so much and I’ll have a shit ton of new lines to go over."

“If I’m getting paid, then okay.” you grinned.

“Oh, that’s the only reason you’ll go, huh?” he gently bumped his nose on yours.

“What other reasons are there?” you asked coyly.

"Hmm, let’s see, there's the Japanese culture to explore, yummy food, then there’s the A Complete Unknown premiere, and um,” his eyes got a darker as his lips turned up into a smirk, “we can fuck over there." he smirked, moving up your body to kiss your lips.

You moaned softly as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, “Mm, fucking,” you spoke between warm kisses, “is that a promise?” You pecked his lips.

“I would fuck you every hour if I could.” his voice was low, he was still hungry for more even though you just got done making love.

You blushed, “Do you love me that much?”

He nodded, “Yes.”

“Good.” your heart began to race, you knew it was the right time, “Because I love you, Timothée Chalamet.”

His eyes brightened back up, and he smiled wide, “You do?”

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean-"

He cut you off with a kiss. He took your face in his hands, “Mm, I’m definitely fucking you again, right now.”

You laughed as he assumed the missionary position, holding your thighs. “We’re not going to get any work done today.” you remarked.

……

The next day, Timmy again brought up the topic of you buying some skirts for work, so you decided it’d be best to oblige him. While out running errands for him, you went to some clothing stores, picked out and tried on skirts and purchased a few with his credit card.

It felt strange, carrying items for yourself. You were used to shopping for Timmy, but then again, maybe this was for him. It was his request, after all.

Once you started wearing the skirts, he seemed quite pleased. You had a black pencil skirt that hugged all the right places, and he would take full advantage, running his hand along your hip as you walked by, cupping your ass when he stopped behind you.

One day, you’d worn a mini skirt, plaid patterned and pleated. He took you in the kitchen within minutes of you starting the workday. He pushed you up against the counter, but he didn’t remove your skirt, he just pushed your panties to the side and slid his cock right in from behind.

Timmy railed you, brought your leg up, placing it onto the counter so he could push in deeper. “Fuck.” he cursed under his breath. He then held you closer, sinking his teeth into your neck.

Your pussy started to convulse around his cock, you whimpered, holding onto his arm and bracing yourself with your other hand on the countertop.

He fucked you mercilessly, lifting you off your feet.

You moaned like a pornstar. He rammed his cock into your g spot over and over, and you clenched your eyes shut, seeing stars. You let go, and your body shook with release. You heard Timmy curse again as fluids sprang out from between the two of you.

……..

“So, your flight leaves at-" you were talking to Timmy when his photographer friend, Aidan, came waltzing in.

“Damn, y/n, since when do you wear skirts? You look fine as hell!” he exclaimed, joining you and Timmy in the living room.

“Hey!” Timmy smacked him hard on the shoulder, “Show some fucking respect.”

“Yo, I’m sorry!” Aidan apologized, rubbing the spot where Timmy hit him, “I didn’t mean any disrespect, just not used to seeing her legs. My bad.”

“It’s all good.” you said with an awkward chuckle.

Aidan sat down on the couch and you shot Timmy a look, and he only shrugged at you in response.

“Well, I’ll just leave you guys alone to hang out. I’m gonna go home.” You looked at Timmy with a nod, “See you when you get back?”

He smiled kindly, “Yep. Miss you already.” he said with your signature boss-assistant banter tone.

……..

Sleeping in your own bed for the first time in days was strange. It proved to be difficult for you to fall asleep without Timmy’s warmth. You never expected to be so consumed by a man, but you weren’t upset by it.

You were in a deep sleep when you were awoken by your phone ringing. You groaned in annoyance, thinking to yourself, “Timothée, I could kill you right now.”

Sure enough, it was him. “Yes, Timothée Hal,” you answered as you put the phone to your ear, “what could you possibly want at this hour?” you looked at the screen, “One a.m. Excellent timing.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” he said innocently, “I really didn’t want to wake you up, but I want you.” He didn’t sound needy in a sexual way, but in a way that exuded his need for your presence. “Can I come in, please?”

“What do you mean? Are you here?” you sat up in the bed.

“Yeah I’m literally at your door. Won’t you let me in?”

“Timothée.” you grumbled.

………

“Hey, baby girl.” he said when you opened the door.

“Hello, it’s one in the morning. We are going to sleep.” you said tiredly yet firmly. You held your hand out to him.

He smiled softly as he took your hand and you lead the way to your bedroom. “I wish you were coming to the Paris premiere with me.”

“But you have to see Kylie while you’re there.” you pointed out.

Timmy groaned, “Ugh, don’t remind me.”

Once you were in bed together and settled, he spooned you, and his mouth was on your neck.

“Timmy, I have to sleep. I told you that’s what we were doing.” you said, holding firm.

“I know, but…I want you to ride me.”

“Mm, in the morning.”

“No, now.” he insisted.

“Timothée.” you warned.

“Yeah, and you can say my name. Take my cock and scream my name.” he combed your hair back, kissing your shoulder.

You were getting annoyed…and turned on. Sleep was getting further from your mind. You rolled over to your other side to face Timmy. “What cock?” you moved your hand down, palming him through his boxers. “This cock?” you bit your lip.

“That one, yes.” he smirked.

……..

You were both now completely naked, under your sheets. You bounced on his cock as he lay underneath you. You moaned lightly each time his cock sheathed up into you.

Timmy ran his hands up your tummy, squeezing your breasts, “Yes, just like that.” he praised, “Aidan thinks you’re hot, but you’re mine.”

“No,” you panted, “he was just being nice to me.” You put your hands on his chest, moving your hips.

“No, no, he wants you like this. He wants your body, your pussy, your sweet mouth, your tits bouncing in his face. He wants you the way I get to have you. But I’m the only one who gets this tight cunt. Isn’t that right?”

The way he spoke about your body as his cock was rutting into you got you so worked up and hot. You were enjoying the way his cock was destroying you.

“Hey.” he tapped your cheek, “I asked you a question. This cunt belongs to me, right?”

“Yes, yes, pookie. Only you.” you were drunk on his cock, and you were so out of it.

“Pookie? Maybe don’t use that during sex, babes.”

You whined as friction was building inside of you, “Sorry. But yes, you own this pussy. Fuck, your cock is so big.” You moaned, scratching his chest as you came.

You let out a big exhale, then collapsed on his chest.

Timmy kissed your head, and you were asleep within minutes with him still inside of you.

February 9, 2025

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @lixzey @bitchyunknownuser @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @elloise0 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @mel-vaz @sammy-halpert @iwishchalamet @that-one-fangirl69 @jindongdongie @briefkittenearthquake @imnotoverlyobsessive @timhalchala @heatherpi

[cloverapple]

How To Let Go

First things first; drop the idea that reading this will magically make you shift. If you’re here thinking “Oh, I’ll read this, I’ll let go, and then I’ll shift” stop! right! there! I know you want to shift, I know you want to get your desire, but you are missing the whole point of why you want to let go in the first place!

Second if all; there’s no one way to let go because there’s no one thing you’re letting go of. And that’s where most people trip up. You hear it everywhere:

”Just let go!”

“Release!”

“Detach!”

Like it’s some effortless switch you can flip on command regardless of how your unique mind works 😑

And then when you can’t, you start to feel like a failure, like you cannot accomplish this very basic thing that everyone seems to be doing so effortlessly.

Well my darling, listen to me: this is not your fault. You not being able to let go has nothing to do with how capable you are, how lucky you are, or how “primed” your mind is. None of that.

The mind fixates. That’s what it does. If shifting is a huge desire for you, you don’t just drop it overnight. If your DR is playing on a loop in your head, of course you’re going to latch onto it. If every time you go to bed, you secretly hope to wake up in your DR, your brain is still holding on. And yeah, it sucks. Because suddenly your dedication feels like a burden. You start asking “Why can’t I just let go? What’s wrong with me?”

Been there, felt that.

I’m going to tell you exactly why letting go is something anyone can do, and how you can start immediately—without the mental stress that usually comes with it.

But first, let’s clear something up: Letting go is not a quick fix for shifting. It’s not some miracle pill that guarantees success. For some people, yes, letting go is the missing piece. But for others, the real problem isn’t that they need to let go—it’s that they need trust and patience in themselves. And because they’ve been told that “letting go” is the thing to do, they beat themselves up for not being able to do it. When in reality, they were fine all along.

So first of all, figure out if letting go is what you actually need in your journey. If it's not, and you suddenly remember that you’ve found success while holding on, great! If not, let's move on.

So, what does “letting go” actually mean?

A lot of people hear it and think it means quitting, cutting shifting out of their lives, turning away from their DR, walking away completely. And yeah, that is one way to let go. But it’s not the only way. Let’s break it down the different ways there are to let go:

• Letting go of trying to shift – A.K.A what I talked about in this post. You still think of your DR, you still daydream, maybe you meditate at night with no intention to shift, you go about it like you already have it because you do. Stop it. Stop trying to shift.

• Letting go of expectation – You keep doing your methods, you stick to your routine, but you drop the pressure. No more “when will it happen?” You do it just because you enjoy it. You stop putting a deadline on shifting. You let go of when it will happen and just let it unfold.

• Letting go of your DR – You still shift, but you step back from your DR itself. Maybe you try a different DR for fun, maybe you explore WRs or fun, relaxing realities. You turn your focus elsewhere.

• Letting go of shifting itself – You stay in tune with expanding your awareness, but you do this by focusing on lucid dreaming, astral projection, or any other practice for a while. You take the pressure off shifting entirely by trying something new.

• The ‘fuck this shit’ mentality – You throw your hands up and stop giving a damn. Ironically, this one works better than you’d think.

• Letting go of perfection – You don’t need to do everything perfectly, follow every method flawlessly, or maintain some imagined “high vibrational state” 24/7. Stop striving for an ideal and just exist.

• Letting go of comparison – Stop looking at other people who claim to have shifted and measuring yourself against them. Their journey is not yours, and comparison only fuels frustration. Can you imagine driving your car, on the way to go pick up your brand new sport’s car, but you keep looking out the window because someone in the next lane is already driving a sport’s car?? YOU’RE GOING TO CRASH. EYES ON THE ROAD.

• Letting go of guilt – If you feel bad for not shifting yet, for wanting a break, or for feeling stuck, release that guilt. You don’t owe shifting anything. Shifting is you. You don’t owe yourself anything other than peace, trust and love.

• Letting go of attachment to results – Focus on the process rather than the outcome. Enjoy the journey, the experiences, and the growth that come with it. This is the thing I wish I knew at the very start of my journey, not because it would have made me shift faster, but because in hindsight, there’s so much fun in figuring out what works for you, discovering yourself, and the excitement pre-shifting to your DR.

• Letting go of fear – Fear of failure, fear of missing out, fear of doing something wrong, fear of shifting (which warrants another post in itself). Releasing fear allows for a more open, relaxed mindset.

• Letting go of overthinking and self-doubt – Stop analyzing every little thought, feeling, or experience. Your mind doesn’t need to be in constant problem-solving mode. You already know how to shift. You already have your desire/ your desire will manifest in the 3D. You are a creator. You are the god of your reality. If overthinking and stressing out solved anything, no one in the world would have problems.

• Letting go of rules – There are no strict guidelines for shifting. You don’t have to follow what someone else says. Make your own path.

But how do you actually let go?

When you let go, you do so from one of three places: peace, exhaustion, or indifference. To truly let go, you need to lean into one of these.

1. Peace – If what your mind craves is peace, you let go by accepting that your desires are either already yours or inevitably coming. You trust your ability to create and shift, so you stop chasing and start relaxing. Letting go from this state means stepping back, breathing easy, and knowing there’s nothing more you need to do—just be.

"Oh, easier said than done!" Yeah, that’s why we have the next two.

2. Exhaustion – If you’ve reached the point where you’re just tired, use it. Letting go through exhaustion means recognizing that you physically and mentally can’t keep stressing over this anymore. You’ve burned yourself out, and the only thing left to do is stop. Stop trying so hard, stop overthinking, stop forcing. Let yourself collapse into that exhaustion and let go because you have no energy left to hold on.

3. Indifference – This is the "fuck it" approach. Letting go through indifference means deciding that you simply do not care anymore—about shifting, about waiting, about the whole damn thing. Not in a bitter way, not in a frustrated way, just… whatever. If it happens, it happens. If it doesn’t, you’ll be fine. You’ve got a life to live, and you’re not about to waste it worrying over something that isn’t here yet.

No matter which one you lean into, the result is the same: freedom. You stop gripping so tightly. You stop making shifting feel like a desperate struggle. And in that space—wherever you land—letting go happens naturally.

There’s no right or wrong way to let go

Think of it as a spectrum. You let go at your own pace, in a way that feels right for you. Because here’s the truth—holding onto your DR, staying in the cycle of frustration, it hurts. But it’s also comfortable. It’s familiar. And the mind loves familiarity.

Everyone has something different they need to let go of. For some, it’s their attachment to results. For others, it’s the pressure to be perfect. Maybe it’s the need to control the process or the fear of what happens if they succeed. Letting go isn’t a one-size-fits-all solution/It’s about recognizing what is keeping you stuck and unhappy, and making the conscious choice to release it.

So, instead of forcing yourself to drown in the ocean of your desire, because you thought throwing youself in would force yourself to know how to shift, just grab a floatie. You already know how to swim. You just have to remember, and until you do, relax and let go.

[blueheron15]

Bf!jj x reader

Y/n cuts her hair short , basically Jj was busy doing something and she went to the hair salon with Sara and she cut her hair to shoulder length (she had wispy bangs and slight layers) without telling jj and jj sees her and has his breath taken

HAIR

pairing: bf!jj x gf!reader

summary: jj loves your new hair cut

warnings: none

a/n: a little cringe but hope you like this anon!!

-`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´-

you were swinging in the hammock, watching jj saw a piece of wood in half. between his sexy rayband safety googles, and his backwards cap, to the way his biceps bulged as he held the saw, you were getting hot and flustered.

that, and the fact that there was currently a heat wave in the obx.

you gathered your slick hair into a ponytail with one hand, the other wiping the sweat from underneath your bangs.

sarah groaned, emerging from the chateau. “i swear, the hair salon better have ac!”

the mention of air conditioning perked your interest. you scrambled up from your lax position.

“please” you begged dramatically. “let me come.”

“sure.” sarah shrugged. she approached john b where he was helping jj cut the planks correctly to fix the doc, giving him a kiss as he handed her the keys to the twinkie.

“you headin’ out?” jj asked as you did the same, lifting his tank top to wipe his forehead.

“mhmm.” you hummed, planting your hands on his hips.

“a’ight.” he puckered his lips for a kiss.

your face scrunched in mock disgust. “you’re all sweaty.” you pouted.

“just say you hate me, then.” he sighed playfully, leaning down to wrap his arms around your waist and nuzzle his face into your neck.

“never.” you giggle, raking your fingers through his hair.

he rested his face in the crook of your neck. “think yer boobs are sweatin’ too.”

“jay!” you squealed, playfully pushing him off of you. “you are such a perv.”

he shrugged. the twinkie honked, and you saw sarah waving to you from the front seat.

you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “see you later.”

-`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´-

as you pulled back into the chateau, you anxiously looked at your reflection in the over head mirror.

“relax, y/n.” sarah smiled. “you look amazing.”

while sarah had just touched up her highlights and got a small trim, you had, on a whim, decided to cut your hair to shoulder length.

you thought it looked great, albeit different from your normal style. and you knew jj wouldn’t really give a shit, even if he hated it. because it was still you.

“thanks.” you breathed, combing your fingers through it.

you spot jj in the same place as where you left him, shirtless now and a beer in hand. you hopped out of the van and approached your boyfriend.

“jj!” you called.

“yo! how was the-“ he turned around to face you, and his jaw practically hit the ground.

your face wavered, and it felt like your heart dropped. you subconsciously played with the end of your hair, looking down at the grass. “i know, i just randomly decided to-“ you mumbled.

“stop.” jj interrupted, stepping forward with an exited expression, a happy light behind his eyes. “lemme see.” he said softly, placing his hands on your shoulders and bending down to eye level to see the new hair cut.

his mouth opened and closed as he gaped like a fish. “i don’t even… baby, i think that shit that happens in movies just happened to me.”

“what?” you giggled.

“like i think i just got my breath taken. you look so good.”

your heart fluttered now, a warm and loving blush rising to your cheeks. you looped ur arms around his neck. “thank you.”

“‘m i still too sweaty for a kiss?”

“after that? no.”

your lips met, and you sighed happily into it.

-`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´-

[rafesweetie]

track ix. PAPER RINGS! (feat. jj maybank and reader)

“ i like shiny things, but i’d marry you with paper rings “

jj blew it. he spent all the gold that you and the pogues found. the only question is, how does he tell you?

he’d been letting you spend it on everything; manicures every other week, blowouts, expensive makeup, a new phone, new clothes. and he’s gonna have to tear it all down, bring you back to broke.

“hey mama,” he greets you at the shop one day. “new nails?” he asks, holding your hand.

“mhm, do you like them?”

“yeah, they’re stunning. great last set, huh?”

“…what?” you ask, confused. “last set?”

“shit,” he sighs. “yeah, uh— john b blew all the money,”

“john b?” you repeat, suspicious. “he blew it?”

“nah, nah,” he tries again. “pope,” he blames.

“jayj,” you sigh.

“fine. i did. happy?”

you nod gently, but you’re so confused. “how?”

so he takes you through the enduro, buying this place, everything that happened. he seems embarassed. “wanna know the worst part?”

“i dunno if i do.”

“yeah, you do,” he insists. “uh, was in the middle of buying… a ring,”

“pardon? like, for you?”

“for you,” he corrects.

“for valentines day?”

“something like that.”

that’s when it clicks — he was gonna get down on one knee. he was going to propose, get you an actual fancy ring that you want. he wants to marry you.

you’re not sure when you started tearing up, but you did. “jj…” you sigh

“i know, it was gonna be gorgeous and princess cut, even found out your ring size,” he sighs. “now i’m just gonna have to steal one or whatever. surprise,”

“it doesn’t have to be fancy,” you assure. “sarah’s wearing john b’s bandana,”

“no, it does, baby,” he insists. “gotta be best of the best,”

“i’d marry you with paper rings,” you insist, taking his hands in yours.

he sighs and squeezes your hands. “gonna get you something fancy,”

“i don’t need fancy,”

you let go of his hands and you loop them around his neck, getting closer to him.

you kiss him once. “i don’t need fancy,” you repeat.

you kiss him twice. “it’s gonna be alright,”

you kiss him three times. “fancy rings are for kooks, anyway. P4L, right?”

“yeah, yeah, P4L,” he repeats, relenting.

you smile and kiss him again.

“paper rings,” you repeat again with a murmur. “all i need,”

[pupslimes]

how easy you are to need part 1

so. inspiration struck. blame haz for how long this is he infected me with the making stories a million pages bug. thank you to like all 5 of the people who read this before i posted it. anyways id like to present what i think is tumblrs first grizz x reader. definitely its first biz x grizz x reader because ive been scouring for that shit. love you guys!

.............................................................................

It was a good session again. Of course, anything Nate DM’ed was going to be great, but every session felt better than the last. You hadn’t expected to become a recurring character on Riptide when Nate had invited you to join at an open audition you met at, but you were more than excited to be. You didn’t expect all your nervous ramblings to end up taking you anywhere past an Instagram follow at best. But after you hopped down from the stage, Nate had booked it over. “I don’t even care if either of us get the part anymore,” he tripped over his feet and his words as he skidded to a halt in front of you, as if desperate to reach you. “Do you play DND?” At your excited nod, he had launched into an explanation of his podcast, particularly the campaign he ran, and you’d jumped at the chance, excited to maybe grow your own audience. And it had grown, but so had your friend group. By so many now, well beyond the five who you met when you started guest appearing. You’d even made your way into a few of Charlie’s videos at this point. A few speculations had swirled around about if you were dating anyone you were appearing with, but you’d solidly put those rumors to bed on your first stream post guest appearance. Your regular chat new you were an aspiring voice actor, and several of them were apparently also JRWI fans, cheering for you when they’d heard you’d met Grizzly. You were probably going to have to start seeking mods at this point, with the few people who just couldn’t seem to let your relationship status go, or thought they had the right to be assholes now that you’d gained a little notority with the boys and Milo. Jealous freaks.

You had poured a lot of yourself into your DND character, and it showed. He was incredibly flirty, just like you were in real life. It was what had helped you build your brand, a sharp sense of humor and an almost strange openness to your chat hitting on you. Not many guy streamers responded like you do to your chat, so you saw a small flood of watchers when you started. After you were outed, the viewership might have gone down, but you hardly noticed after the queer community had started pouring into the chat, their support becoming your mainstay in the community. You’d branched out from gaming, now running practice lines or even cooking streams with your close community of followers. You were nowhere near quitting your day job, but you loved your audience for their kindness, not the money. Of course some of the new people had also seen Just Roll With It, and had guessed when you mentioned you’d be guest starring on a show soon, and described your character in great detail. You’d kept quiet about confirming it outright, however, and enjoyed the excited messages from those who were proven right when the episode dropped. The chat demanded a watch party, but you cringed at the idea of watching yourself for an entire episode, especially with the knowledge that you were around for several.

Of course you’d stayed for several. Any time everyone gathered in LA, the boys filmed as many episodes as possible. There was a huge popularity in the in person episodes compared to the rest of them, and it was obvious to you why after sitting in on a few. The energy between the five was abundant, everyone practically bouncing off the walls both on and off camera. You had to toss back a few energy drinks to keep up with the rest of them, especially Charlie, who seemed like a boundless ball of energy, bouncing around at lightspeed and chatting your ear off. Your only solace was Milo, who seemed to also hang back just a little bit, except when it came to Zach. You were immediately taken under her wing, as another Riptide newbie, and she demanded you sit with her all day, claiming you needed to team up against the rest of the group. You giggled, and everyone else laughed with you, especially after you cracked a joke in response. The tension rolled off your shoulders after that, and you found yourself able to settle in more easily. You made a mental note to thank her later, which you did, profusely, but she just waved it off with a light shove to your shoulder.

Of course, being in an enclosed basement with five other people, in incredibly close quarters, meant you noticed things better. Meant you noticed a lot of things better, actually. For instance, you noticed the way that Nate constantly fiddled with his hair, pushing and shoving it around his forehead, tossing their head slightly to keep it away from their eyes. Their hands were never still either, twisting at any prop he could get his hands on, or on any jewelry he was wearing. Those were definitely the reasons you spent so much time staring at their hands and face. That and the fact that he was the DM. That was it, absolutely no other reason. And your cheeks were flushed from the heat in there! No matter that Zach had, as usual, set the AC to 69 degrees, six bodies in a room together was bound to generate a lot of heat. 

Speaking of Zach… well. From the beginning, you couldnt help but notice him after the two of you were introduced. His hair fell around his face very nicely, and his stubble looked like it would be almost soft to the touch. You were looking because you were envious, obviously! Getting on T had changed your hair pattern, and it kept a slight wave to it now. You had no idea what to do with it, but Zach obviously did. You’d have to ask him for his hair routine later, even though you assumed it was probably just three in one or something. Ugh. Cis men were so lucky, and they had no idea. The beard was also a source of envy for you. Yours grew in patchy and scraggly, the texture making you bristle when you touched it, so you kept your cheeks, chin, and neck absent of any hair. Sure it contributed to you not passing as well, but after getting top surgery, you really couldnt bring yourself to care. Everyone in the room made it a point to respect your pronouns, and your stomach only twisted when Zach called you man or dude because it gave you euphoria! Absolutely no other reason…

Safe to say, you were probably fucked.

So what if every time you made eye contact with one of them your cheeks flushed a little darker? It wasn’t visible on camera (yes, you did check, and no, it wasn’t weird that you asked to see the footage. Image as a streamer was important, okay?), and none of them commented on it, so you did your best not to draw attention to it either. You only laughed a little too loud at a joke once or twice, and it could totally be played off as nerves about the game. It was fine! Everything was going to be fine! You carefully kept watch on both Zach and Nate the first day, noting the glances they exchanged, but it never seemed to be anything past about the campaign itself.

You were able to relax more on the second day you trampled down the basement stairs, already buzzed on an extra large coffee from the shop up the street from Charlie’s place. You’d hit up the gas station as well, picking up snacks for the group along with your energy drinks you had found yourself craving yesterday. As you tossed a bag of Donettes on the table, Zach’s hand shot out to snatch them. “Bro! These are my favorite! How did you know?” He tore into the bag.

“Dude! It’s day two! Do you already have no fucking sense of decorum left?” Milo ribbed.

Zach lobbed a doughnut at her, which she caught on instinct, before lamenting her now powder covered fingers. Zach just snorted. “Serves you right,” He looked over to you, sticking a thumb out towards Milo and jamming it towards her. “Women, am I right?” You cackled, elbows dropping to the table to hold your head in your hands as you laughed with him.

“Lord forbid women do anything!” Milo called. “You’re officially uninvited from sitting next to me today, by the way. Hang out with your traitorous boy friends or whatever,”

“Fine! Maybe I will!” you chuckled. “Girls have cooties anyways!”

Zach slipped an arm around your waist, smiling triumphantly as he pulled you towards him. Your yelp came from nothing except surprise, thank you very much, and your glance to Nate was only to make sure that they weren’t waiting to get started, thank you very, very much. Nate’s gaze was trained on you, but he seemed a little spaced out, so your stomach settled quickly. Removing Zach’s hand from your hip gently, you scolded him.

“Hands off, unless you want me in your lap, Biz,” you joked, attempting to ease the tension slightly.

“Maybe I do,” he purred, jokingly. Jokingly, right? Obviously. Whatever. So what your heart caught in your throat?

You shook your head, face reddening slightly. “Gross dude, I’m not fucking gay,”

The rest of the room burst out laughing with you two this time, and you shoved him away from you as you crashed down into the chair next to him. You all settled down pretty quickly at Nate’s urges, and you jumped into session after session, poking a little more fun at Milo today than you had yesterday. The rest of them were treated with even more fervor, just like your other interactions with them. Eventually, after a few Riptide sessions, full of screaming, bullying, and threats, you all cut the cameras and broke for lunch, ordering a practical buffet from the Asian place down the street. It was dead silent for the first several minutes after the food had been divvied out, everyone ravenous after all the effort from the morning. Eventually, Nate broke the silence, turning to you. “Hey,”

“Yeah, Grizz?”

“You know you can call us all our names right? Like, off camera? I know it’s weird to use two names but. We like using names outside of session,” he smiled at you gently.

Your cheeks darkened immediately. “Ah! Um… well. If anyone is going to be good at using two names for people, it’ll be me,” A general chuckle from around the table. “I just wasn’t sure we were friends like that quite yet,”

Nate piqued an eyebrow at you. “What is that supposed to mean? You’re in the inner circle at this point! Once you’re in a Charlie video, you’re in!”

“Even if you’re only there virtually? Among Us doesn’t usually indicate the highest level of friendship,”

A snort from Charlie. “Well, yeah I guess, but you’ve joined the slompound officially, dude,”

A grin split your face. “Okay! Thanks, Sli- Charlie,” 

He smiled back at you. Nate pouts. “Hey! I’m the one who brought it up!” 

You turned back to them. “Of course, how could I forget? Thank you, Nate,” You must have imagined the color that dusted high on his cheeks when you said his name.

When you all made it back down to the basement, you decided to push your luck a little. “Miloooooo,” you whined. She turned to you, and so did Zach and Nate, Charlie and Eric continuing to swap out props for Judgement sessions. “If I apologize for earlier can I sit next to you again? Zach smells,”

Her face perked with a laugh, but before she could get any words out, Zach wss on top of you. “Hey!” He smacked at you gently a few times. “Fucking rude bitch,” You stuck your tongue out at him, and he smirked, before grabbing for it, his thumb grazing it before you could slip it back in your mouth. You reacted a second too late, pretending to be disgusted at the taste of his skin, sputtering and spitting, before retreating towards Milo. 

She looked at you with false pity in her eyes. “Oh you poor thing, of course you can sit with me!” She fliped off Zach, and you joined her. He flipped you off back.

Condi’s voice boomed out in the room. “Ooooooookay, you guys. Let’s cool off now, yeah?” The fingers all turned to him. “Hey!”

After several sessions of Judgement, you all stumbled, bleary eyed, up the basement stairs, slamming bodies down onto the couches forming the pit in Charlie’s living room. Charlie groaned, turning his head to the side. 

“Half an hour of rotting, and then dessert and a movie?” More groans, ascension from the others and yourself filled the room. You closed your eyes, letting the shapes behind them spin and lull you into a stupor. 

Before you knew it, someone was shaking you awake. You blinked heavily, hands reaching out to tangle in a shirt, and a small grunt was let into your ear, breath brushing your face. “Come on, man,” a gravelly voice nearly cooed down at you. Your eyes opened wider. Oh, shit. That would be Zach above you, and his shirt you had your hands tangled in. You released it quickly, pressing yourself back down into the couch. 

“Sorry, bro!”

He smirked, shaking his head. “Nothing to apologize for. You’re cute when you’re sleepy or whatever,” he winked at you.

Despite knowing it was a joke, your breath caught in your throat a little. “And you’re a sight to wake up to,” You shot back. He grinned.

“Come on, argue with me for ice cream,” he referenced your favorite dessert, warming your heart that he remembered it.

In the end, you got ice cream. Nate also immediately glued themself to your side when you walked in with Zach, and became your ally in the dessert argument. His weird tension towards Bizly relaxed after he advocated for ice cream as well, and you couldn’t help but wonder at what was happening between the two of them. You didn’t have enough brain power left that night to really bring yourself to decode it, so you let it go. After the movie, everyone unanimously agreed to crash as fast as possible, and you barely even made it to your room before you passed out. 

That was how you found yourself now, on your third day with the group. You squint against the sun, streaming through the blinds you hadn’t closed last night. You consider going back to sleep for another hour or so, but the disgusting taste in your mouth eventually forces you up. You had definitely forgotten to brush your teeth last night. As you scrubbed at your teeth with a heavy hand, you woke up slightly more, checking the time on your phone. 11:30. You were grateful you only had the one session to film today, and then you’d have time to just hang out with everyone. They’d even agreed to stream with you later, insisting you all play Jackbox together. You spat into the sink. Gross. Orange. Rinsing out your mouth and splashing your face, you ponder on who else could be up. You decide to sneak into the kitchen and see who’s around. Padding in on gentle feet, you can smell coffee brewing. You peek around the corner, and long silvery hair catches your eye. 

“Hey, Nate,” your voice is always a little gravelly in the mornings, catching in the back of your throat until you’ve really woken all the way up.

He startles a little at your call, head snapping over his shoulder before he relaxes. “Oh, hey! Sorry, voice I’m not used to hearing in the morning. You sound like you smoke a pack a day or something,”

You chuckle, hand rubbing the back of your neck. “Is it at least hot?”

His cheeks flush a little, but he grins. “Very,”

You hum in appreciation, sliding over in your sock feet to the coffee pot. “Almost ready?”

They nod. “Started it about 5 minutes ago. Sorry if the noise woke you up,”

Unable to fully communicate, you shake your head and reach for him, dragging him into a hug to show your feelings instead. He lets out a slight noise of surprise, before reaching to hug you back. Arms tangle over your waist, and his head drops to your shoulder, where it fits perfectly due to your height difference. You hum lightly, gripping him a little tighter, before drifting away mentally just a little, drinking in the warmth and softness of his support beneath your head, clad in a comfy red sweatshirt. He smells like some kind of plant life and petrichor. You inhale more deeply, trying to catch what kind of plant it is, but the long breaths and comforting position go straight to your still hazy brain, and you find yourself relaxing into them further. Nate never protests, his head shifting further into the crook of your shoulder ,a gentle sigh escaping him.

When the coffee timer goes off, beeping a singular time, both of you tense slightly. You realize just how long you’ve been wrapped in each other, and you step away slightly. “Sorry,”

His face is almost the same color as his hoodie. “Don’t be,”

Before you can say anything else, a voice sounds from the hallway. “Do I hear coffee?” Eric strolls into the room. “Thank you guys so fucking much, holy shit. I alwways feel hungover after big session days. I’m not sure how we ever recorded The Suckening all at once,”

“I’m assuming a lot of caffeine,” you huff, and Nate nods at your side, attempting nonchalance. 

“That and going crazy in the red room,”

You all giggle together, pouring and sipping at coffee, the other two feeding you stories of different campaigns, you drinking them in with glittering eyes. The others eventually make their way in, joining the three of you at the table. You don’t even notice that Nate’s leg has pressed against yours under the table until Zach pulls up the chair to your other side, squishing himself up to you. “You snore in your sleep,”

You smack at his wrist, skin to skin echoing in the room as your eyes widen. “Good morning to you, sunshine,”

He smirks. “I got up to piss in the middle of the night and heard it,”

“Fuck you,”

“If you insist,”

You stick your tongue out at him again. He raises an eyebrow before reaching to pinch it again. This time, you snap your teeth at his fingers. “Feisty boy,” he teases.

You roll your eyes. “Freak,”

He chuckles. “You’re the one who tried to bite me,” 

You huff. “I’m talking to Nate now. Goodbye,”

He pretends to pout as you turn yourself to Nate, leaning in further to him. “Hi, handsome,”

He swallows heavily before responding, but recovers fast, leaning into you as the conversations continue, Milo now yelling at Zach for being a bitch. Again. You giggle. Breakfast goes by quickly, and before you know it, you’re back in the basement. You stay attached to Nate this time, even after he pulls off his sweatshirt, and your skin is pressing directly to his. Everyone is crowded together more today. No one will notice.

After you finish the session, much more quickly this time, you peel yourself from him. “I’m going upstairs for another energy drink,” you declare. “I’ll need it to survive the day. I can come clean up later,” The rest of them wave you off, insisting you shouldn’t be cleaning after your first in person week, and you blow them a raspberry as you bounce upstairs. 

Reaching into the fridge, you pull out an ice cold can, relishing in the feeling against your heated hands. You crack open the can over the sink, and take a long pull from it. You close your eyes as you feel the caffeine start invading your bloodstream, and your thoughts wander back to the events from below.

Lost in thought about the session, and maybe about Nate and Zach, you don't notice anything until the sound of rustling perks your ears. you turn around at the noise. He's standing behind you, inches away, grinning. You stumble back a few steps. "Oh! Biz... ah, Zach...hi," The name still feels foreign in your mouth, not your gut reaction, but they’d all practically demanded you start calling them their names. As you move backward, not looking where you're going, you back into a wall...no... someone. someone warm, someone whose arms wrap around your waist as they press a kiss to the shoulder they were buried in only hours earlier. "Hey, sweetheart," Fuck.  "Hi, Nate,"

[g1rld1ary]

Could I request an Anthony Lockwood x Reader fic where Reader falls ill and Lockwood tries his best to take care of us with a side of lots and lots of fluff <3

wc: 848

summary: lockwood takes care of you when you're ill

me: thanks for waiting love this was such a cute request hope u like!!!

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“was that a cough?” lockwood asked as you broke the silence that had settled over the library in portland row.

“no,” you lied to his face, pointedly avoiding eye contact. “choked on a biscuit, s’all.”

“you haven’t had a biscuit in fifteen minutes,” lockwood pointed out, “i’d be worried if you just started choking.” you rolled your eyes, caught out.

“fine. i took a walk this morning and it was bit colder than i thought. my body’s just trying to adjust, i’m fine. should we go back over the case?” lockwood shook his head, tutting like a mother hen.

“you know the rules, read the sign.” he pointed through the library door into the kitchen, where the back page of a bill was pinned to the fridge. your bold handwriting read do not work when sick. sick days are bed days!!!!! now that the message was directed at you and not lockwood you thought five exclamation marks were probably overkill.

“i’m not sick, lockwood. can we just get back to work?” you smiled despite the complaint, touched at the way lockwood was fretting about you.

“no way,” he said, impetuous tone creeping into his voice. you ignored him, figuring it was just another bite back. suddenly you were hoisted into the air, grabbing onto lockwood for dear life.

“what are you doing?” you shrieked, squirming in his arms.

“taking you to bed, darling,” lockwood said, smiling softly down at you, “not like that, don’t be a perv.”

“it’s not my fault!”

lockwood tossed you onto his bed, busying himself with tucking you in under the covers. seeing your pathetic pout he just laughed, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead.

“oh shit,” he said, “you’re warm, do you feel feverish?”

“no,” you lied again, trying to push yourself up. lockwood shook his head, pushing you down lightly with a joking hand over your face.

“i’m getting you some medicine. stay put,” he instructed with a warning finger, ducking out of the room.

you wanted to be frustrated, to be annoyed that lockwood was babying you and interrupting your workflow. but when you thought about the warmth of lockwood’s duvet, of his smell lingering between the sheets, when you saw the framed photograph of the two of you on his nightstand, any hostility crumbled into fondness. you loved that boy, and it was easy to love him.

lockwood returned minutes later with a tray and more kindness than you could have expected. no one had ever looked after you like this.

“have you brought the whole kitchen up with you?” you laughed, propping yourself up on your arms. the tray was crammed full with a glass of water, juice, a mug of tea, medicine tablets, snacks, and a hot water bottle. it was past ridiculous, especially given the fact that you were hardly ill.

“i just want you to be comfortable, love,” lockwood answered easily, and all your teasing melted away.

he adjusted you so the tray fit nicely over your legs, pillows stuffed behind your back so you were sitting comfortably. when satisfied that you were in a good position lockwood raced around to the other side of the bed, crawling underneath the covers next to you.

“how are you feeling?” he asked, big brown eyes examining every inch of you. you laughed sweetly, enamoured by the boy in front of you.

“i feel fine, lockwood. great, even.”

“but sick?”

“but sick,” you confirmed, taking a sip of the tea he’d made you.

lockwood began to talk, chatting about whatever popped into his head as you consumed all of the beverages he’d prepared for you. you liked listening to him, lockwood was a good talker and always told the best stories. jokes in all the right places, dramatic pauses and the right amount of background information. it was one of the things that first drew you to him, you couldn’t stop begging for more stories so you could hear his voice for a few more minutes.

lockwood noticed you zoning out, immediately removing the tray from your lap and arranging you into a comfier position without being asked.

“you should nap,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear gently.

“will you tell me another story?”

“of course, darling.” lockwood never said no to you, he wasn’t wired that way.

despite the initial sickness running through your body, all you felt was love. love for lockwood and love from him. some people considered lockwood to be dramatic, some thought he had too much bravado for his own good. whilst that was all true, you knew that primarily, lockwood had kindness and generosity written into his genetic code. if he thought he could do anything to help you, he’d make sure he did it.

“anthony?” you murmured, three seconds from sleep.

“yes, my love?”

“i love you.”

“i love you too,” he leant down to kiss you softly, not caring about the germs he’d get from you. “so, so much.”

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

tainted love

pairing: javier peña x steve murphy

cws/tags: only one bed, when you gotta jerk off ur partner bc he can't sleep but it's just a platonic thing dw #totallynotgay, use of f-slur, frottage, watching porn together briefly, mutual masturbation, technically infidelity ig but what connie doesn't know can't hurt her

summary: steve can't sleep and he's keeping javi up, so they have to jerk off ???

a/n: homosexual activities return to my blog

thank you to @almostempty for your help w this ! i could not have done this w/o you

wc: 3k

It’s not the first time Javi’s ended up with Steve’s name on his lips and his own hand wrapped around his cock. It’s not an everyday occurrence – Javi has tons of masturbation-worthy images in his collection of sacred memories. He’s got dalliances with hookers, something more and simultaneously less with that one communist girl, even Lorraine, back when she was something other than a blurry, ever-present mistake in his periphery. But, these thoughts are finite. In desperation, he’ll search for more. 

Sometimes more is his partner, partner in work, not in sex, not really, not yet. It comes down to the way Steve looks when he’s pissed off, the way anger forces him into physical contact despite the fact that he’s not a touchy-feely guy. It’s the time he had Javi pressed up against the wall in the hallway of the DEA office in Medellin – it felt like deja vu, he’d seen that moment on an x-rated videotape that no one would ever know he rented. Fuck government secrets, it’d take a harsh interrogation to get Javi to reveal the fact that he watched gay porn by his own volition. More than once. 

It’s a sleepless night like any other except Javi’s not in his own bed or anyone else’s, he’s in a hotel room he’s sharing with Murphy. It’s not the worst thing that could’ve happened – he could’ve gotten stuck with Stechner, but Messina decided to pair up with him for a reason Javi doesn’t want to hear about. 

There’s alcohol somewhere, but not in his overnight bag – maybe in the minibar, but that’s on the far side of the room and whether it comes out of his pocket or not, the prices make him feel sicker than a hangover would.  

Though he and Steve are facing away from each other, he can tell that he’s not sleeping either. It needles at him in the dark. Steve’s wakefulness bleeding onto Javi’s side of the bed, his body heat threatening to burn through the ever present wall of masculinity that keeps him at a distance. 

Murphy tosses and turns to the point where Javi wonders if he’s doing it for attention – he’s doing a great job if so. Javi rolls over to tell him to cool it. 

“Would you cut that shit out?”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Neither can I. Because of you.”

Steve shrugs as best one can in his position. 

“What do you want? A bedtime story?”

“Might be kinda nice.”

“Alright,” Javi says, like he’s really committed to the idea. “One night, there was a DEA agent who killed his partner–”

“Okay. I get it.”

“How the fuck does Connie sleep in the same bed as you?”

“I guess I don’t really toss and turn when I’m with her.” He pauses.

“She usually holds me – or I hold her. Not like a baby or anything, but you know…”

“You need to be cuddled to sleep? Seriously?”

He really seems to think about it. “No.”

“‘Cause the only way I’m holding you is in a headlock.”

“How do women sleep with you, huh? You’re wide awake and pissy about it.”

“When I said women sleep with me, I didn’t mean it literally.”

“So, you kick ‘em out of bed? Sounds about right,” Murphy says it with a smirk, like he’s gotten one over on Javi, but he hasn’t. 

“No, they know to leave. Or, I do. It’s bedroom etiquette. You wouldn’t know.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I’ve got something better – a wife. She sleeps with me for free.”

“God knows why.”

“She loves me. I’m loveable, Javi.”

That one strikes a nerve, but Javi doesn’t dare let it show.

“Maybe by her standards.”

“You saying she has low standards?”

“She could do better. She’s a very nice woman.”

“What does that mean?”

“Relax, man. I’m not trying to fuck your wife. I’m not that much of a scumbag.”

“Good. Not that I think she’d be into you anyway.”

“Plus, I can get laid without traveling to Miami.”

Steve huffs. It was a low blow, Javi’s willing to admit that.

“Okay, listen. We gotta be up in the morning, so let’s get practical here. You with me, Murphy?”

“Aye aye, cap,” he says with the least enthusiasm. 

“So, she’s been gone for a while, and I don’t see you coming to work looking like complete shit – at least, not any worse than you used to — so how are you getting to sleep?”

“I mean, I usually, you know…”

When Javi gestures to say go on, though he’s pretty sure he knows, Steve says much quieter, “Jerk off.”

“Was it that hard to say it?”

“I mean, it’s a little awkward.”

“What are you? 12? Everyone jerks off.”

“So, what? You want me to just jerk off?”

“Not here,” he says incredulously at the notion despite the fact that it does excite him. “In the shower if you have to.”

“I don’t usually do it in the shower.”

“You get to try something new then.”

“If I have to get up, then dry off, get dressed again, I think it’ll just start the whole process over.”

“So what? You want me to go stand outside and wait for you to finish?”

“The idea doesn’t sound unappealing…”

“No way am I doing that.”

Pissed off and admittedly aroused by the thought, he suggests, “You know what? Fuck it – put up a pillow barrier between us, and go ahead. Find something on pay-per-view so I don’t have to hear anything from you.”

“You serious?”

“If it’ll help you sleep.”

They fight over pillows and that’s only half the battle.

“Do you think they’ll know we’re buying–”

“Yes, so get something normal, will you? I don’t want anything weird showing up on the bill.”

“Relax. What’d you think I was gonna pick?”

“I don’t know. I don’t really think about your porn habits.”

“Well, what do you like?”

“What?”

“What do you like, Javi? We should find something we agree on.”

“So, now I’m a part of this?”

“I was trying to be nice.”

Javi stays silent while Steve rattles off possibilities. “We’ve got lesbians, mature women, threesomes…”

Javi gives him an unenthusiastic ‘sure’ to each option. 

“Oh, here’s the gay section,” Murphy says with a laugh.

And to avoid an awkward silence, Javi jokes - or tries to, “Don’t knock it till you try it.”

And Steve’s head turns around faster than you’d think was possible. “Oh, so you’ve tried it?”

“I was making a joke.”

“That’s not a no.”

“Why do you even care? Just stop stalling and pick something.”

Though he’s clearly still considering prying, he settles on whatever the most basic shit is – some blonde girl getting railed by some dude with a cock big enough to distract from his lackluster face. 

It’s about a minute of fake moaning that somehow makes things worse before Steve asks, “Do you think if we change the channel, they won’t charge us since we barely watched it?”

“Might as well try. Turn on PBS or something. That shit’s always free.”

It’s free but it’s a science documentary. Slimy jellyfish and the old men who know a concerning amount about them flood the screen. 

“Just turn off the TV,” Javi says, unable to hide his disgust.

Murphy spits into his hand, takes his cock out, and Javi is listening intently to it all. It makes him uncomfortably hard. He won’t sleep if he doesn’t get off, and at this point there’s no real shame in it. 

They breathe in tandem, each strangled sound egging the other one on, until Steve dares to ask, “So, you said you’ve watched gay porn before?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you didn’t say you haven’t.”

“Fine. Yes, I have. Can we go back to not talking right now?”

“But I’m curious.”

“Keep your curiosity to yourself.”

“Have you ever done anything with a guy?”

“Why? Do you want me to tell you a story about me getting a handjob from some guy outside a bar when I was hammered? You really wanna get off to that?”

“Maybe. If you can jazz it up a little.”

“I barely even remember it.”

That’s not entirely true. 

Sure, the memory’s faded a little over time, but he wasn’t blackout drunk like he wants Steve to believe. He was young, and a little bit desperate due to a recent breakup. It was hard to put on a face that said ‘I’m approachable and you’d have a good time if I took you home,” so the only attention he got that night was from a guy only a bit older than him, he’d guess. It was the kind of thing where he should’ve known it wasn’t friendly banter from the beginning, and maybe he did – he just didn’t want to believe that he was letting this happen, that he was engaging in it, that he was enjoying it. 

It got a little touchy-feely in a way real Texan men aren’t supposed to, unless they’re faggots. The word rings in Javi’s ear, and it’s the only thing louder than Murphy’s heavy breathing, which is far closer in time and space. 

The guy – whose name he’ll likely never know – led him outside and whatever ‘it’ was went down in an alley.

“Did you like it?”

“I liked it enough.”

Enough to cum from a handjob alone, and enough to try to give one back, and the only reason he didn’t really get to was because his hands shook, and it was summertime. 

‘You’re not used to this are you?’.

‘No, I’ve never…’

‘It’s okay,’ he said, removing Javi’s hand, gingerly, almost apologetic.

The goodbye kiss was anything but – it was tongue and teeth, indulgent. You could say it was self-indulgent on the other guys’ part, but you’d be wrong. It felt like it lasted longer than the handjob, and maybe it did, but god, that’d be too embarrassing to admit even in his own mind. It was the kind of kiss that dared Javi’s cock to spring back to life and he fought it desperately. 

‘See you around.’

But the pair never did. Javi convinced himself it never happened and during drinking games or friendly teasing he insisted that he’d never touched another man, just like every other friend of his. 

So, why would he tell Steve?

Before Murphy can ask another goddamn question, he turns it on the fucker, “Why don’t you tell me about your sex life?”

“I mean, besides Connie, there hasn’t been anyone since I was, fuck, I don’t know…”

“Is Connie any good?”

“Of course she’s good.”

Javi waits for the ‘but’ with a raised eyebrow, and it comes. 

“It just gets boring, alright? I love her, though.”

And Javi knows he does. He knows he does because Murphy can’t sleep without her in bed beside him. 

It doesn’t miss Javi that Steve’s breath falters more when Javi’s name leaves his mouth. 

“Javi…” He’s been stroking himself the entire time, but he’s not close, it’s not a plea to cum. It’s a hesitant question. 

“Yes, Murphy?”

“Why do you always call me by my last name?”

“I don’t know, Steve.”

It’s just to get a reaction out of him, which it does, subtle enough that another person might not catch on, but Javi’s waiting for it. 

And the reason is probably somewhere between the fact that he calls everyone by last name - and, come to think of it, it’s actually kinda weird that Murphy calls him by his first name - and because he feels like exchanging first names equals real friendship and somehow, that’s too intimate for Javi.

“Is that better?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Steve…”

“Yeah?”

“You want this, right?”

“If you do.”

“You gotta tell me. ‘Cause I’m not doing anything if you’re not into it.”

The distance between them dissipates. It doesn’t matter who closes the gap – if one didn’t, the other would. 

Javi looks back and forth between Steve’s cock and his mouth and tries to decide what’s right. Because he wants both, he has to find another metric to measure, to make his choices for him. 

Dive right in and take Steve’s cock in his hand to avoid the intimacy that locking lips requires? Kiss him to quiet everything including his own mind? 

He’s dumbfounded for a moment and you’d think he’s the one who’s never touched a man before if you didn’t know any better. The thing is: Javi can jerk another man off, even give a likely mediocre drunken blowjob. The difference is, this is Steve, naked in bed beside him. The difference is, he’s thought about this. The decision to do this shouldn’t be this easy when he’s sober. But his inhibitions are dangerously low because he’s dreamed about this. 

He’s played out fantasies before that he knows wouldn’t - shouldn’t – become reality. There are countless reasons not to do this - Steve is married, this could ruin both of their careers, this could compromise the most important case in DEA history. 

There is only one reason this should happen: desire.

Javi leads with his heart not his head (admittedly, his dick has influenced this specific decision to a significant degree).

His contemplation is cut off by Murphy’s lips pressed to his. The kiss is hesitant only until Javi reciprocates. Then it leans more towards animalistic than sweet but it’s needier than anything. Between the two of them desperation has only ever led to tension that boils over into fighting, but somehow insomnia is all it took to get them here. 

His brain has one thought playing on loop - the simple fact that he is actively kissing Steve Murphy. Until his mind is free of thoughts. Sex usually works like that for him, particularly with women ‘cause he doesn’t have to worry about the persistent guilt and fear of getting caught in the back of his mind, but his stress rarely fades at just kissing. Maybe they’re not just kissing. It feels like something more. Javi can’t think, but he sure as hell can feel, and he’ll feel this for days, weeks, months, maybe years if he’s really unlucky and there’s no feeling strong enough to replace this one.

The pillows that stood between them are now strewn across the floor as are the pretences. This isn’t one coworker tolerating another’s nighttime routine – at the very least, this is a friend helping a friend in a time of need. But that sounds too innocuous – too generous, even sacrificial. What they’re doing is fumbling around in the dark (even though Javi aches to turn on the lamp, to see, to savor) trying to find out how to get this over with the quickest, what will make the other cum first while learning how to drag this out, how to tease, how to get the other to the edge and no further. How to do this together. 

It starts with the kiss, with Javi lazily stroking his own cock until he dares to place his hand on Steve’s inner thigh. It’s a hesitant question and a final warning, and in response Steve’s breath hitches. They lock eyes for a moment before Javi removes Steve’s hand from his cock and replaces it with his own. There is no protest, only a low groan before he takes Javi’s cock in his hand with a firm grip that makes it feel more like retaliation than returned favor. It also feels way too fucking good. Javi takes it as an invitation for competition, his right hand is more dedicated and focused, moving faster while his left grabs Steve’s jaw and brings him into a kiss fueled by a passion that feels closer to rage than love. 

Javi takes Steve’s bottom lip between his teeth and tugs on it slightly, as if a gentle pull in the right direction would bring Steve into Javi’s lap. It elicits a startled jump in his ragged breath - and they were long overdue to pull back for a breath - Javi takes the opportune moment to tell Steve to come closer in a voice that one uses to discipline an unruly soldier. 

Javi has to maintain a certain amount of control through aggression lest he let the mask slip and reveal his own nervousness, his curiosity, how little he really knows about how this is supposed to go, and how much he wants to press Steve flat on the mattress and take this slow. 

He finds himself moving hastily to shift himself and his partner - now in work and in sex - into a position where he can jerk them both off simultaneously, cocks loosely held together in his fist. Javi’s thrusts lead and Steve’s follow. 

Neither of them last very long. 

There’s a collective initial sigh of physical relief and a subsequent realization of what had just occurred between the two of them. 

What is he supposed to say? ‘Thanks’? ‘Sleep tight’? Is he supposed to say anything at all?

Murphy gets out of bed disturbing the relative peace in the air. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Javi asks.

“Shower,” Murphy says, leaning in the doorway of the bathroom. “Ever heard of one?”

“Thought you didn’t wanna take a shower ‘cause it would make it harder to sleep.”

And that’s how we ended up here. 

“I’m not going to bed like this,” he says, gesturing to the mess he and Javi had both left on his stomach. 

“I don’t wanna go to bed like this either, but it’s four in the goddamn morning.” They’re back to whisper yelling and somehow it feels nice to have that sense of normalcy. 

Murphy stands there waiting for a better argument, but instead he gets Javi storming out of bed straight towards him and dragging him into the shower. 

It’s not romantic, not in the slightest - they argue over the water temperature and who’s taking up too much room. They don’t wash each other’s hair or look at each other with stars in their eyes. But, they leave their clothes on the floor and slip into bed naked, not holding each other, but not wincing when their shoulders touch. 

“Did that really happen last night?” Murphy asks with a yawn, forcing Javi to confront reality after he’s pressed snooze more than once. 

“I don’t know,” he says. “You tell me.”

“Yeah, yeah, I think so.” He sounds more confident with every word. 

“Okay. Then, I think so too.”