#and to maybe make the face clearer to see

[theglowsociety]

Having a lesbian friend as a woman can be an eye-opening experience in ways you might not expect. It’s not just about learning more about different sexualities—it’s about seeing the world through a lens that challenges norms, deepens your understanding of relationships, and expands your view of what it means to be a woman.

1. You Start Questioning Society’s Expectations of Women

• Women are often conditioned to prioritize men’s approval—whether in how they dress, speak, or behave.

• Seeing your lesbian friend exist outside of that dynamic (at least romantically) can make you question: Why do I care so much about male validation?

2. You Realize Love & Attraction Exist Beyond What You Were Taught

• Straight women sometimes assume romance and attraction must follow a script: man pursues, woman follows.

• Watching a same-sex relationship flourish without those traditional gender roles can be refreshing—it makes you rethink what relationships should be.

3. You See the Double Standards More Clearly

• Straight women face sexism, but lesbian women often experience an added layer of invisibility or fetishization.

• Learning about the challenges of coming out, dating, or just existing as a lesbian woman makes you more aware of the biases built into everyday life.

4. You May Reconsider Your Own Sexuality

• Maybe you’ve never questioned it before, but being close to someone who has can make you wonder: Do I actually like men, or do I just feel like I have to?

• Even if you’re completely straight, understanding sexuality as a spectrum becomes much clearer.

5. Your Understanding of Female Friendships Deepens

• Many straight women fear being too affectionate with their female friends, worried it will be “misread.”

• Being close to a lesbian friend can help dissolve that fear and make you appreciate the depth and intimacy that platonic female relationships can have.

6. You Witness True Self-Acceptance & Resilience

• Coming out, facing discrimination, and navigating a world built for heterosexuality takes courage.

• Seeing your friend embrace who they are—despite societal pressure—can inspire you to stand in your own truth, whatever that may be.

7. You Gain a Deeper Respect for Individuality

• When you witness someone confidently live outside the norm, it gives you permission to do the same in your own way.

• Whether it’s in love, career, or personal expression, you start realizing: I don’t have to fit into a box either.

At the end of the day, having a lesbian friend isn’t just about understanding sexuality—it’s about unlearning restrictive beliefs and embracing a broader, freer perspective on being a woman.

gay and lesbian pride parade in london, june 1985.

[emmiesoverthemoon]

a helping hand (and maybe three more): one

Pairing: t.o.p + g-dragon x reader

Word Count: 3,888

Summary: As Taeyang's sister, you asked for your brother's help moving and he brought a few extra sets of hands to help you out. After meeting you, these two in particular have a keen eye for you.

Tags: not famous au, fluff, pining, flirting, competitive seunghyun and jiyong, reverse harem type beat

cross posted on ao3 here

The call had been simple enough—just a quick request to your older brother, Youngbae, to see if he could spare some time to help you in your move to your new place. The pieces of furniture were heavy, the boxes unwieldy, and although you held pride in yourself for your independence, there were limits to what you could handle alone.

“Of course, I want to help,” he had sighed, voice warm with sibling affection, but tinged with hesitation. “I’m just with the guys right now. Would it be okay if I came after?”

You had smiled, even though he couldn’t see it. “Of course! I totally understand, you have a busy schedule. Come whenever you can.”

What you didn’t expect was that Youngbae wasn’t the only one listening.

From the other end of the line, muffled voices burst into the background, too distant to make out individual words but unmistakably curious. Then, clearer and more insistent, a different voice—loud, incredulous—piped up.

“A girl that isn’t Hyo-rin?! Youngbae, who is that?!”

There was a brief silence before Youngbae responded, slower this time, like he already knew what was coming next. “…My sister.”

Another wave of noise, overlapping questions tumbling over each other in a mix of disbelief and excitement.

“You have a sister?!”

“How long have we known you? And this is the first time we’re hearing about this?!”

The commotion escalated before Youngbae could properly diffuse it, and by the time he managed to get a word in, the decision had already been made for him.

“Let’s help her move!” someone declared, enthusiasm uncontainable, then, unintelligible agreements followed from various other voices.

Youngbae sighed once more, barely concealing the reluctant fondness in his voice. “Okay, okay. Fine. Let’s go now,” Then, after a pause, he sighed into the phone, now addressing you, “I’ll see you soon.”

You were unsure what you were expecting when you heard the knock on your door—just Youngbae, maybe looking a little tired from the drive, dressed casually, and ready to lift and move things without much fuss. Instead, when you opened the door, your breath hitched in surprise.

There he was, yes—your brother, standing at the forefront with that familiar, easygoing smile, but flanking him were several unfamiliar faces, an entourage of three other—admittedly rather attractive—men you had never seen before. They stood in various states of curiosity and amusement, all eyes fixed on you like they were seeing some rare, undiscovered species.

Your lips parted, words caught somewhere between confusion and apprehension. “You brought your whole friend group?”

Youngbae exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah… Turns out I’ve accidentally been keeping you a secret from them. They kind of forced their way here.”

A chorus of protests erupted behind him. “Forced? We volunteered!”

One of them beamed at you, unbothered by the tension in your shoulders. “We couldn’t let Youngbae be the only one helping! Strength in numbers, right?”

You hesitated, momentarily overwhelmed. It wasn’t that you weren’t grateful—extra hands meant things would get done much faster—but this was your brother’s world colliding with yours in a way you had not anticipated. You had never met his friends before; he was always a little protective of you in terms of your interactions with guys. But here they were now, standing in your doorway, waiting for you to let them in.

You swallowed down your awkwardness and took a small step back, opening the door wider. “Well… I guess I won’t say no to free labor.”

It took a short time for you to notice two particular members of Youngbae’s group acting… different.

Seunghyun and Jiyong, as you would later learn their names, seemed especially taken aback by your presence. You caught the barely restrained awe flickering in their eyes, the way their gazes lingered a beat too long, their stunned silence stretching just enough for the others to notice.

Jiyong, never one to be subtle, was the first to react, exhaling dramatically as if he had just witnessed a celestial event. “God damn,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head in exaggerated disbelief. “Youngbae, you have been hiding a literal goddess from us.”

Seunghyun, though initially quieter, was no less enchanted. His lips parted slightly, as though he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how. His eyes roamed over you, admiration evident, though he tried—unsuccessfully—to be discreet about it.

Their newfound mission was immediately clear: impress you at all costs.

Jiyong, exuding nothing but pure, natural charisma, took the lead. He was at your side in an instant, plucking boxes out of your hands before you could so much as protest. “No way are you lifting anything heavy,” he declared, winking as he made a show of flexing his arms. “That’s what we’re here for.”

Seunghyun, still finding his rhythm, followed suit—perhaps a little more hesitant at first, but gaining confidence as the moments came and went. He tugged off his jumper, rolling up his sleeves just enough to emphasize the definition of his arms—“just because it was hot in the room”—sending the occasional sidelong glance your way to gauge your reaction. When Jiyong leaned in with a playful smirk, murmuring some flirtatious remark while Youngbae was distracted, Seunghyun wasn’t far behind, his deep voice adding a quieter, but equally compelling layer to the teasing.

Youngbae, for his part, pretended not to notice. He busied himself with moving furniture, he and Daesung working cooperatively with moving the large pieces, acting oblivious even as two of his friends tripped over themselves in an attempt to gain your attention.

 But you knew better—knew him better. He was aware. He was absolutely watching them.

And though he knew you were a grown woman whom he trusted could handle herself, you also knew that if things ever went too far, his protective instincts would kick in. 

For now, though, he let it slide. For now, he was simply observing, waiting to see how this would unfold.

Not even 20 minutes after Youngbae and his friends had left your home, you noticed two new notifications on your phone which caused you to let out a laugh. Jiyong and Seunghyun had somehow found your Instagram and followed you, those stalkers.

In Youngbae’s car, he and Daesung were talking each other’s heads off, filling the front portion of the car with random conversation. In the backseat, Seunghyun and Jiyong were sat together, scrolling through and admiring your posts, already competing with one another.

“I want her.” Jiyong whispered, praying Youngbae would remain oblivious.

Seunghyun’s head snapped up from his phone to raise his eyebrow at Jiyong, “No, I do. Probably more so than you, too.”

A smirk curled on Jiyong’s lips as he raised his brow in return, feeling his ego inflate with each passing second, “Well, may the best man win.”

From that moment, your new apartment became their battleground.

Both men found even the smallest of reasons to visit you, to linger at your door with excuses that grew flimsier by the day—offering to fix things that were or were not broken, carrying in groceries you had never asked for, just happening to be in the area. Every visit was a new attempt to outdo the other, their teasing turning sharper, their charm growing more deliberate. They were not just helping you move anymore—they were moving into your life, staking their claims, and neither was backing down. The whole ordeal was ridiculous to you, but you would be lying to yourself if you said you hated all the attention you were receiving from these two inexplicably gorgeous men.

What started as lighthearted competition soon escalated. The playful banter between them became increasingly pointed and bold, each interaction between you three layered with tension that neither Jiyong nor Seunghyun wanted to acknowledge—at least, not in front of you. Each of them pushed the limits, their rivalry turning into a quiet war of persistence. It was in the lingering stares, the slight brushes of their hands against yours, the subtle one-upping in conversation, each trying to establish himself as the one who deserved your attention the most.

By the time the moving-in period had passed and your housewarming party arrived, the tension had built into something unbearable.

They sat either side of you on the couch, Seunghyun to your right, Jiyong to your left. Every word was heavy, every touch—no matter how innocent—felt risky, it sent a hot shiver down your spine. Seunghyun leaned in close to your ear, voice low. “You’ve been driving us crazy, you know.”

Jiyong’s fingers brushed against your thigh, featherlight but deliberate. “Absolutely insane.”

Your heartbeat drummed in your chest, it was all too much, too close, too intense. You let out a breath in an attempt to alleviate the overwhelming weight on your shoulders. You needed to get off of this couch before the weight grew heavier and crushed you.

 “I need some air,” you quickly rose to your escape, not leaving a single glance back at the now confused men on your sofa.

Slipping away onto your balcony, you exhaled shakily, but solitude was short-lived. Footsteps followed, and soon, they were there, side by side, watching you with an intensity that made your stomach twist into knots.

“You okay?” Seunghyun’s voice was softer now, concerned.

You turned, heart pounding. “I... I don’t know what’s going on between you two and I, but it’s been overwhelming. I feel like I’m caught in something I don’t understand.”

A pause. Then, Jiyong smirked. “Oh, you’ll understand.”

Seunghyun exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “We both like you. And we’re both not exactly the type to back down.”

Your heart stuttered. “So this has been a competition?”

Jiyong’s gaze darkened, amused. “Call it a battle of devotion.”

“And I’m your prize?” Slow nods followed your statement, as if they were embarrassed to have their intentions aired out in such a way. Your head spun, realization settling in. This was dangerous. This was exhilarating. This was something you never saw coming, and you had no idea what to do next. You tore your eyes away, looking down to the street below your balcony, eye contact was too much for you to bare right now.

Sensing your anxiety, Seunghyun was the first to speak up, gently rubbing his hand on your shoulder to comfort you. “If you’re not comfortable with us acting this way, tell us and we will forget this ever happened.”

Unsure of what else he could do to help you, Jiyong leant forward—not enough to invade your personal space, but enough to ground you to them both. “We can just be friends! If that’s what you want.”

Your jaw twitched at their proposition, you did not want whatever this was to stop. Although it was new and a little scary, you were drunk from these two doting on you all the time, their very obvious yearning excited you more than anything.

“I just didn’t understand your reasons for coming over all the time, why it was me… now I get the idea,” you took a deep breath, slowly regaining your confidence again, you raised your head to look at them, “I think it’s fun. I want this to… keep going.”

After hearing your response, both of the men visibly brightened, their eyes which were filled with compassion not a moment ago now filled with competitiveness and want. 

“Well, who are we to deny a lady what she wants,” Seunghyun chuckled, looking at Jiyong who shrugged mischievously in reply. “Should we head back in?”

After the housewarming party, the flirtation between you, Jiyong, and Seunghyun settled into something both comfortable and intense. It was as if the chemistry had become a game, a playful dynamic you had no chance of escaping. A dynamic that after both of them were selfless and comforting in your moment of worry, you were more than happy to indulge in.

It started innocently enough. Jiyong would continue to drop by, just to “check in” and “make sure everything was alright.” His visits were spontaneous, always bringing a gift or a bottle of a drink you liked, though you soon realized the gifts were not the point. He lingered. A little too long. The way he looked at you, his easy smile, the way his fingers would brush against yours when handing you something—it was deliberate. Teasing. He had picked up the habit of calling you a plethora of pet names just loud enough for Seunghyun to overhear, but not loud enough for you to call him out on it.

Seunghyun was no better. His approach was quieter, more subtle, but just as effective. He would pop in unexpectedly, casually bringing something you had no need for, just an excuse to hang around. Sometimes it was a warm beverage when he had bought one of his own, sometimes it was a movie suggestion, but his real gift was his presence. He had a way of standing too close, leaning in just a bit too much when handing you something or helping you with something small. And there were those moments when his eyes would lock with yours, and for a second, time would slow, and your breath would catch—an unspoken promise passing between you.

The feeling was thrilling, the attention they poured into you. You felt wanted, admired, and yet, no one made a move—at least, not in the traditional sense. The lines between friendship and something more blurred, it was as if the three of you were content to exist in this liminal space, where the flirtation was enough, and the tension was delicious.

It was supposed to be a simple get-together—just you, Jiyong, and Seunghyun, an impromptu night in, drinking the wine that the both of them had gifted you over the time they have known you. You all had been laughing, talking about everything and nothing at all, but as the evening wore on, the conversation took on a more intimate tone. The teasing became a little more personal, the jokes a little more daring. No expectations, no obligations. 

But the way Jiyong draped over your couch, stretching out lazily, his shirt riding up just enough to reveal a sliver of his toned stomach? The way Seunghyun watched you from his spot near the window, sipping his drink slowly, his lips curling into a knowing smirk whenever your eyes met?

There was nothing casual about any of this.

Jiyong, always the instigator, leaned his head back against the couch, watching you with that half-lidded gaze of his. “You look tense,” he mused, voice smooth as silk. “Maybe you need a massage.”

Seunghyun exhaled sharply, shaking his head with a chuckle. “Smooth.”

Jiyong ignored him, patting the space beside him. “C’mon, I’m serious. I have great hands.”

You raised an eyebrow, lips twitching. “Oh, I’m sure you do.”

Jiyong grinned, shifting so his arm rested against the back of the couch, inches from your shoulder. He was close, his scent—something warm, spiced, intoxicating—wrapping around you like a snare. “You don’t believe me?” he asked, his voice dipping low, playful.

Seunghyun let out a soft scoff from the other side of the room. “If she wanted a massage, I think she’d ask someone who actually knows what they’re doing.”

Your head snapped toward him, and there it was again—that heat in his gaze, steady and unreadable, as if he was measuring your reaction.

You tilted your head, playing along. “And you do?”

Seunghyun took another slow sip of his drink, eyes never leaving yours. “I could prove it.”

Jiyong made a noise of protest, turning toward him with an exaggerated frown. “What, you think you can do better than me?”

Seunghyun now moved from the window to sit on your other side on the sofa, “I know I can.”

The tension in the room thickened, solidifying into something weighty, undeniable. Your pulse hammered as their attention honed in on you, a silent challenge crackling between them.

“You know, Seunghyun,” Jiyong drawled, looking over at him with a sly grin, “You’re awfully good at making her laugh. I’m beginning to think you’ve got a thing for her.” His voice had that playfulness that always made your stomach flutter, but there was an edge to it, a challenge.

Seunghyun remained composed, his smile just as cool, though his eyes darkened ever so slightly. “I’d say the same about you, Jiyong. You always seem to find an excuse to be here.” He shifted to be closer to you, his leg now flush against yours. “Maybe we both like her, and neither of us are willing to admit it.”

The room seemed to shrink. Your breath hitched at the way Seunghyun’s voice dropped, a little hushed, a little too intimate. Jiyong shot him a look but said nothing, instead running his fingers through his hair and throwing you a devil-may-care smile. “So, which one of us do you think is more charming, huh?” he teased, his voice lowering as well, eyes full of mischief.

You laughed, but it was breathless. “This feels like a competition,” you said, the heat between the three of you rising far too high. It was not the first time that they had joked about who had the upper hand, but tonight, it felt different. There was more to it, more desire hiding in the cracks of their smiles.

“Well, you can’t blame us for trying to impress you, gorgeous,” Jiyong said, his tone now entirely different. It was no longer a joke. “But if you ask me, I think Seunghyun’s the one who’s been holding back the most.” He looked at him, as if daring him to say something.

Seunghyun’s lips quirked upward. “I prefer to let actions speak louder than words. Isn’t that right, baby.” He had never called you baby before now. The way the name had slipped from his lips so easily sent a shiver down your spine, you had no words. Jiyong had called you things before and you enjoyed it, but the way Seunghyun’s husky voice sounded did things to you. He was not just talking about the move, about helping you settle into your new apartment, about just being a new friend. No, it was something else entirely. Something far more personal.

You could feel your face burn, you were unsure whether or not it was from the wine running its course through you, or two men beside you.

“What actions have you done? Little touches? Eye contact?” Jiyong laughed, now moving to lean in just as close. He moved his arm down onto your shoulders and softly grasped your jaw, forcing you to look over at Seunghyun. His face was real close to yours now, faces side by side as he spoke once more, “I bet there are a million and one actions that that man wants to do to you to… show you how he feels.”

Nevermind, the redness was absolutely from them.

“Now, now Jiyong, no need to rile her up so much,” Seunghyun raised his hand to release the hold still on your jaw. “Cat got your tongue, hm?”

You inhaled slowly, gathering yourself despite the way your pulse pounded in your ears. You were not about to let them win this round. So, with a slow blink and not letting your eyes leave Seunghyun’s, you tilted your head just slightly, letting a knowing smile play at your lips.

“Oh? And what exactly do you think I’m expecting you to do, Seunghyun?” Your voice was light, laced with teasing, but the glint in your eye was sharper, deliberate. A challenge, subtle but unmistakable.

Jiyong let out a low laugh, leaning back against the couch like he was watching the most entertaining show of his life. His gaze flicked between you and Seunghyun, amusement dancing in the depths of his eyes. “Careful, Seunghyun,” he mused, lips curling at the corners. “She’s got a sharp tongue.”

Seunghyun didn’t flinch. If anything, his smirk only deepened, slow and knowing, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass in lazy circles. His eyes never left yours, watching, waiting. “I think,” he murmured, the weight of his voice dropping just slightly, “you like watching us squirm.”

A thrill ran through you, though you kept your expression perfectly composed. Instead, you gave a slow shrug, feigning nonchalance as you reached for your own drink. The cool rim of the glass pressed against your lips, and you let the silence stretch just long enough to make them wonder. Then, setting it down with careful precision, you leaned back against the cushions.

“Maybe I do,” you mused, tapping a finger against your lips in thought. Then, tilting your head ever so slightly, you added, “Is that all? Because, honestly… I expected more from you both.”

Seunghyun’s brow lifted slightly. It was barely a flicker, but you saw it—the fraction of a second where his carefully laid-back composure wavered.

Jiyong, however, let out an incredulous scoff, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Oh, you want more?” he echoed, but there was something different in his tone now—something intrigued, something interested, something hungry.

The way his gaze dragged over you then, slow and searching, made your stomach tighten. He was taking your words and turning them over, trying to decide what to make of them.

You simply shrugged again, letting the moment stretch, drawing out the tension like a bowstring pulled taut. Then, with practiced ease, you stood, stretching your arms above your head, the soft fabric of your shirt shifting slightly as you moved.

“I mean, if all you two have to offer is a little teasing,” you sighed, voice deliberately light, “I might as well just finish this wine and go to bed.”

Jiyong inhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head with a laugh as if trying to suppress whatever thoughts had just run through his mind. Seunghyun, on the other hand, stayed perfectly still, his eyes trained on you like he was finally seeing you for what you were—someone who was just as much of a player in this game as they were.

Then, he chuckled. Low. Dark.

“You think we’re just teasing?”

His voice was softer now, almost dangerous in the way it curled around the words.

You paused, turning just enough to glance over your shoulder at him, one brow raised. “Aren’t you?”

A beat of silence passes. A shift in the air.

You could feel their gazes on you, pressing, measuring. But you refused to break first.

With a slow, knowing smile, you picked up your glass again and made your way toward the kitchen. You didn’t rush, didn’t let them see anything but absolute confidence in every step.

“I’ll let you two figure out what to do with that information,” you tossed over your shoulder.

Jiyong let out a breath of a laugh, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his hair. “She’s dangerous,” he muttered, sounding half in awe, half exasperated.

Seunghyun let out a quiet hum, swirling the liquid in his glass as his gaze followed you out of the room.

“Tell me about it.”

keep an eye out for part two ;)

taglist (ask to be added): @petersasteria @floofeh-purpi @breakmeoff @sherrayyyyy

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 25

The suffering of Bruce will continue for maybe 2 more chapters and then we're back on the timeline- Alien Rubicon was... painful. But it did make me finish ch26 so- enjoy-

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 25 >>next(TBC)

You’ve gotten too used to the chaos, to something always happening- maybe that paranoia will be your downfall, maybe it was just your mind telling you your life wasn’t meant to know of peace and serenity. You did thrive on the adrenaline fights provided, no matter how much you dream of living quietly, painting and just existing in a better world.

Sadly, that wasn’t a reality that could be, not for you. So, while the sun was still yet to rise, you basked in the night, letting the shadows provide warmth and letting them speak to you- you haven’t done that in a while. “You’ve neglected us.” Maybe John was right for once- even if you initially laughed at the idea, meditating won’t hurt you now.

Well… you weren’t one to stay still for long, so despite letting your mind fly, eyes closed softly, you let your body twitch, shift, move as it wished. You let your thoughts and worries pass through you- let the thoughts that you were failing Debbie, or your brothers, come and go, you let the guilt that kept you awake go with them- even if it all still lingered. The shadow’s whispered nonsense became clearer the more time you spent like this, body resting on the recliner, warm blanket over you- “Open your eyes, darling.”

The clear voice made you flinch awake, and yet, as you looked around, it was clear you were dreaming, your body sat upright in a void of complete darkness. “It’s nice to finally meet you, daughter.” The voice accompanied by a warm hand made you gasp as you turned around, your eyes immediately meeting a woman’s, a woman you’ve never met before, and yet you knew her-

“You-you’re Death herself.” Your statement was met with a gentle caress and a loving smile as she confirmed her identity. Death has been written to be this cold, awful thing- ripping and painful- and maybe it was to others, but all you saw was love and melancholy. You saw the love of a sister and the sadness of loss only a mother could hold. “Did meditating kill me?” At your whispered words She could only laugh, a melodic thing that filled you with warmth, and you definitely understood why the Dacians referred to Her as they did. She was a sister guiding you, a mother to welcome you on a lonely road to whatever afterlife you believed in, the warmth needed to face mortality… but- “It’ll never be your turn. We both know that.”

“I would have caught you in your realm, but you move so fast, you could rival the speedsters. It won’t kill you to take it slow sometimes, but then again, Morpheus couldn’t understand that either.” She teases, and your cheeks flush. You felt like a child being scolded for drawing on the walls. “I have eternity and beyond at my disposal to take it slow-“

“You do. But do you understand what that means?” You knew. It’s another reason why you’ve been unable to sleep sometimes. Immortality- it’s a dream, especially when it comes with the powers gifted to you. “It’ll be lonely. I won’t age, but everyone- Mark, Oliver, dad, mom-“ your voice shook. “They will eventually have to walk by your side. While I’ll have to keep moving the other way.” It wasn’t natural for you to speak so freely about things so personal. But you couldn’t bring yourself to lie or do your usual avoidance tricks.

“You’re still holding back.” She said softly, with so much understanding that it made your lip tremble and your eyes tear up. “I appreciate it- I really do- I don’t want to give this up. This opens so many possibilities- I can learn every language, can learn any skill, and see so many things I wouldn’t have had the time to, but it still hurts so much to think about how everyone I know will eventually meet the same fate-“ She let you sob into her shoulder, her hands running soothingly over your back. “Yes. But what’s life without love and hurt? I know you think the one thing that makes humans human is hate, but I’m a romantic at heart-“  Her soft palm raised your head and wiped off your tears. “I think it’s love, and I’ve never seen love like you humans hold for each other, platonic or otherwise.”

“You came to tell me to be a lover?” You sniffle as you chuckle. “No. I’m just being selfish and wanted to see you.” Death nudges you. “But it won’t kill you. You’ll see, the fates have already sewn your threads. It’s just a matter of which one you decide to walk.” You didn’t move away from her, but you did wipe away your remaining tears. “Sounds like the illusion of choice.”

She just smiles. “You have choices. Plenty. And all will work out in the end. You’ll see.” Her hands came to cup your cheeks again. “Oh, you’ve grown so much- still tripping on stairs, but you’ve come so far in life.” You whined as she teased and pinched your cheeks. She truly was a mother in the end. “We’ll have eternity to know each other, but sadly, I can’t stay anymore. You make sure to visit Gotham too, she misses you-“

And just like that, you woke up before you could say your goodbyes, hand reaching for someone long gone. Your eyes barely opened, your relaxed expression turning into a frown as your eyes caught an imposing and dark figure flying just a few paces over you, its figure obstructed by the shadows in a familiar manner. “…Dad?” You groan as you raise a bit, your hands trying to rub the sleep from your face. “No.” The unfamiliar voice immediately woke you up fully, your body tensing.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Debbie has been sleeping in today, granted everyone did, so by the time they were supposed to eat, it was already lunch. Everyone was slugging, still tired from moving, packing, and unpacking, but Nolan’s and Debbie’s eyes moved over the present people, counting heads, before the mother locked eyes with her son. “Mark, is your sister still sleeping?”

The young adult shrugs, hair disheveled as he gets up. “I’ll go check, we stayed up quite late-“ A scream cut him off, and before he could react, his father was already outside.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You’ve been staring at the balding Viltrumite for a while, and he’d been staring at you right back. “And he sent you to give me- this?” Your eyes went down to the- you weren’t sure how to describe it… It was a plant- that you were sure of. Similar to the carnivore Pamela had and yet it was very clearly alien. The colors of it are continuously changing, seemingly settling on a color when it feels strongly in one way- is it even sentient like that? “I offered.”

“You offered?” Your eyes went back up to him. “Yes. We’ve been watching you. We’ve seen you deal with Vidor with no hesitation, you’ve dealt with most enemies efficiently, put fear and doubt in quite a few of the younger ones, and stood up to Thragg with no fear whatsoever. You’re brutal and efficient. We two are similar to a point,”  you couldn’t help but trace your hairline at that, “we enjoy what we do. And yet people talk to you, they want to be your friend-“

“You Viltrumites have friends?” Your mouth moved faster than your brain could process, but your words only earned a dry laugh. “I guess we don’t, not in the sense you humans do-“ The man continued speaking, and the more he did, the more you felt bad for him and the Viltrumite way of living- even though a part of you felt like it was manipulation. “You can change all of that- but you haven’t, you’ve just accepted it as an absolute, unchanging fact.”

“If I go against the Empire everyone would be trying to eliminate me-“ You just huffed at his words. “They’re already against you. You’re so lonely most days you want to cry, they think you are unstable, you said that. If they think of you as a means to an end, what do you think will happen when they find someone better than you, whom they can control even more? You’re at rock bottom with nothing to lose, the only way is up.” You shrug. “Or just die in the ditch and cover yourself with the dirt you dug. You want change, you’ve gotta fight for it, grandpa. You’re giving incel ‘woe is me’ vibes right now.”

You looked back at the alien-plant thingy. “What even is this? How sentient is it?” Your eyebrows raised as the plant seemed to coo. “I can’t take care of a sentient thing that needs attention 24/7- I can barely keep up with taking care of myself-“ The plant stuck its- uh- tongue? Out and licked Conquest’s hand. “… Well… it likes you more.”

“I think it wants to eat me.” The deadpan way he delivered the line made you snort. “I- fair. I can’t keep a carnivorous plant around a baby, tho- so you can go back to Thragg and rip him to shreds-“ Conquest was quick to interrupt. “He wanted to give you the pelt of an intelligent and endangered alien species. Kregg and I insisted on the plant.”

“ ’aight- that makes both of you more intelligent because what-“ Your hands rubbed your face. “I’ll take the plant- just- no pelts of aliens, please.” You did as much, putting the little thing on the small accent table next to the chair. “… You’re still here.” You sigh. “I wanted to fight you.” You quickly answered that you weren’t going to fight him. “I’m on vacation- mom would kill me if she found out I went and picked a fight!” Conquest crosses his arms. “You’re afraid of your human mother?”

“Yes. Yes, and you should be too, a mother is a scary thing, and when she finally loses it, I know where I’ll stand.”  You floated up to his height just to poke his chest while at eye level with the Viltrumite. “Motherly instincts are an insane thing- that being said, I am bored.” You cross your arms. “…Have you ever heard of the game tag?”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You were ashamed of the scream that left your lips as Conquest grabbed your leg out of nowhere and turned you upside down, your body hanging limp as he laughed, boasting with glee that he won. You’ve had a good comment about it, but your focus was on the blur that crashed into the older Viltrumite making him let go of you. You kept your body floating on its side as you looked at Nolan ducking it out with the older Viltrumite, pouting as you realized this might be more complicated than it needed to be.

Keeping up with them was easy- making them slow down and listen wasn’t as easy. It did feel nice to know Nolan was so willing to fight for you, but alas, you had to bring out the big gun- Debbie. So with your mom in your arms and a very confused Mark, you let the woman tear into the two Viltrumites like they were little children, nodding along with her words. “And you-“ Your eyes widened as she turned her finger to point at you. “What were you thinking? Not only about interacting with him- but did you even sleep? Did you eat breakfast? You’re in your pajamas- it’s cold!”

“Grandpa Morgan isn’t that bad-“ You pouted. “Grandpa Morgan?” Everyone questioned, and you shrugged. “He said Conquest is more of a title than a name- He’s old and he sounds like Jeffrey Dean Morgan- so- Grandpa Morgan.” Debbie sighs and rubs her temple. “Wha- I can’t just keep calling him something he doesn’t want to be called-“ the oldest Viltrumite couldn’t stop himself from laughing, his shoulders shaking with the unhinged sound that escaped his throat.

“He’s laughing-“ You turned from Mark to Morgan. “You’re laughing at me?! I can just call you Jumbo, you old elephant-“ The balding man just laughed harder, making Nolan squirm with unease. “Mom!” You whined at the woman in your arms.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

As night came and your parents were getting ready for a party, you and Mark were feeding the alien plant thing to see what it liked- you were still pouting over Grandpa Morgan laughing at you. Alas, seeing the carnivorous thing favor eggs over mice or raw-cut meat was an interesting sight. Ivy’s plant was the opposite- but this may be because yours seems to still be a kid, she may need the calcium… You were getting too attached to the thing.

“Mark, what are you doing? Why aren’t you dressed?” Debbie’s voice brought both of your attention. Marked looked from you, dressed in a plain black dress with a set of pearl jewelry, back to his mom. “Well, I thought I could stay back and help April-“ Debbie crossed her arms. “If your sister has to come, so do you. Get dressed.” And Mark pouted, but did as told.

“Who’s throwing the party, and how were we invited anyway?” You ask as you put the eggs away. “Oliver Queen, I actually sold him a house about a year or two ago.” Your mother smiled as her fingers gently moved some of your stray hairs back in place. “Nice guy- a bit eccentric.”

“He’s a rich man. They all are. And he’s a hero, so…” You shrug. “Robin Hood, right?” Nolan’s voice came as he patted down his suit, making Mark snort as he too appeared. “Green Arrow, dad. But he does look like a Robin Hood movie fancast.”

“He’d make a great Robin, though Prince John would be more fitting, no?” You joke as you stick your thumb in your mouth and rub at your earlobe. Debbie, despite the twitch of her lip, swats at your hand. “Stop it. The man has done nothing wrong to us.” She tried to be stern, but the amusement was clear in her tone.

Your mom turned to April, but before she could speak the blonde woman was already going down the checklist. “-and I’ll make sure to keep an eye on the new family pet as well. Everything will be fine, Debbie. Enjoy the party.” Debbie sighs, but her shoulders relax. April was right- she was supposed to be relaxing on the family vacation… She felt it in her bones that the vacation wouldn’t be as relaxing as the average, normal family vacation.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Nolan didn’t like parties, and he sure as hell hated all the heroes present at this one- Bruce included. Granted, he was glad that Mark and you stuck with Jason and his two red-headed friends. He squinted at your animated form speaking with the Tamaranean. You were too happy to be talking to her. Maybe it was a terrible idea.

“Leave it.” Debbie swatted at his chest. “They’re just talking.” Nolan pouts. “They’re too close, that other man too. Not to mention the other bats and their friends are trying to get close as well- I can just feel it.” Debbie raised an eyebrow while calling him paranoid, yet as her eyes drifted over a few of the heroes she recognized, she couldn’t help but feel the same.

You, on the other hand, were yapping Kory’s ears off with questions about her, mostly- Jason could only watch with amusement as your eyes sparkled at the tall woman. He knew you two would be immediate friends. His eyes drifted back to Roy who was talking with Mark, both complaining about shitty fathers. He couldn’t help but nod- this felt much more like a family, annoying little siblings and all.

Sadly, Jason never could get much peace these days- the sight of Slade with his crotch demons made his eyebrow twitch- wait… his- “Slade? Since when do your kids hang around you?” You asked before Jason could. “Are you really blackmailing them?” Your eyes moved to the three young adults behind the man. “Is he blackmailing you? Holding you hostage?” The three all seemed to smirk with amusement at the annoyance on their sperm donor as they all affirmed your line of questioning.

Slade just huffed, pouting as he turned to face you. “I’m not holding them hostage-“ The young woman commented something along the lines of him being too old to be holding anything up, which Slade ignored- “-but the media may have gone a bit crazy, and they wanted to meet you.”

“Is this about the prank? Because it was a one-and-done, old man.” Jason jumped in, and while Kory was still on edge, Roy and Mark immediately recognized what he meant. “Oh-yeah, Jason just wanted to mess with the bats- your father and Lex aren’t actually dating my sister- I’m uh- Mark, by the way. Nice to meet you.” Mark held his hand out and you did the same, introducing yourself and smiling once you could put names to their faces. “We were worried he had you under mind-control or something.” At Jericho’s amused voice humming through your heads, Slade sighs with defeat while you snort with amusement. “I fear I’m too thick-headed for that.”

“You call it thick-headed, I call it paranoid- not even John has as many protection spells set up, and I honestly think he needs them more than you.” Mark teases you. “There’s never too much protection-“ As you and Mark got into a friendly conversation with Slade’s kids, pulling a reluctant Roy and Kory in too, Jason’s eyes stayed on Slade's face. The annoyance on the man’s mug slowly turned to a softness the crime lord didn’t trust- it made Jason all kinds of twitchy.

The presence of Slade and his kids distracted Jason from the reason he brought Kory and Roy along to a party he otherwise would have avoided, Bruce. The man was inching his way closer and closer with each minute that passed- he was sure it’d be okay, despite what his kids said- You danced with Diana, let Oliver and Dinah twirl you around until all three of you got sick, you must be in a good mood.

However, he was making the same mistake over and over again, much like a crazy person, expecting a different outcome. He was approaching with his Brucie persona instead of the true face you knew him as. So, when his sickly-sweet voice called out your name with a familiarity he wasn’t deserving of, everyone around you noticed how you immediately tensed up. Slade’s hoard seemingly to be the first to crowd you and Mark as the man approached. Jason was right by them once the oldest Wayne was face to face with you.

Your eyes narrowed at the man. “Great. You’re here.” Bruce decides to brush off the annoyance and clear nervousness he brought you. “I was invited- but it’s nice to see my daughter while at it too.” Mark, the usually chill kid Jason knew him as, scoffed as he muttered under his breath about the man’s audacity. “Your mug is pissing me off.” Rose snorted at your bluntness, and Bruce’s smile twitched. To him, it was Jason all over again- but at least with him, he was sure he could fix it one way or another. He wasn’t even sure where or how to begin. “I just want to talk- actually talk-“

“Talk? You’ve had years to talk to me, just because now you feel guilty or some bullshit like that-“ Strike two for Bruce was interrupting you. “I know. But I’m still your father,” strike three, “and I have a right to see and speak to my daughter-“ And he’s out- quite literally. With one punch, he was out, passed out with his back flat on the floor, and Jason’s screech that turned into a boisterous laugh drew everyone's attention to your little group.

While Slade and Mark made quick work of grabbing you and pushing you away before you could start beating on the unconscious man, Tim sighed and pulled out a tablet, opened an Excel sheet titled “forgiveness chart” and started updating it. Steph looked over his shoulder, her eyes tracing over it. “What’s up with the numbers on Damian’s thing?” She asked, and Tim’s eyes followed what she was referring to. “54 72 79 20 74 6f 20 73 61 62 6f 74 61 67 65 2e” Tim looked at the blonde with a blank expression. “Must have been a glitch.” Stephanie gave him an unimpressed look. “Tim. Nobody believes that.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Kon-El kept replaying the punch one reporter caught as he tried not to laugh like Jason, who, if it weren’t for Roy, would be rolling on the floor. It was family night at the Kents, specifically “Make fun of what the rich wear” family night. “What did Bruce do to that poor girl? This is like the third time he gets hit by her.” Martha asked Clark, who was slumped, almost falling off the couch, as he rubbed at his face. He only groaned. “She seems like the type of woman who’d like to still work after marriage… I’d make a great house husband-“ Kon’s comment went ignored by everyone but his grandpa who started complaining about the economy and how he should keep working.

Jon’s eyes remained on the clip as it carried on playing when Kon stopped rewinding it. “It’s… a long story.” His mom sighed as she ate more of the popcorn they had around. “That man is getting more beat up than usual by his own kid-“ Grandpa Jonathan started with a huff. “We aren’t getting any younger, we have time.” Everyone’s attention was brought back to the TV as a reporter was quick to jump in front of you and your family, asking exactly what everyone wanted to know. And your angry glare and sadistic smile didn’t ease Clark’s worry. “I’m glad you asked- better be recording, because this is the only answer you’re getting to what my relationship with the fucker is-“

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae @alittletiredcry @kittzu @plsfckmedxddy @blackhood1229 @nxdxsworld @leeiasure @dandelion-delusion @lovebug-apple @sillysealsies @tsxukikami @enchantingarcadecreation @alishii @d3nnji @itsberrydreemurstuff @yuyuzi-ling @welpthisisboring @1abi @mxvoid26 @persephone-kore-law @bluevenus19 @ryuushou @asillysimp @aalunar @cxcilla @sirenetheblogger @pinkluv29 @br33zy-blizzardz @victoria1676 @of-poetry-and-dreams @djpuppy-kittens @wizzerreblogs @galaxypurplerose @burningkittenprince @swanluver @ohnoivefallen @eyeless-kun

The chart in question:

Tim doesn't know as much as he'd like to.

ch 26 Sneak peek

“It was a clean punch, good job.” Diana’s comment got a few reactions, mostly snickers and Hal almost choking on the coffee he was drinking, but her smile was due to the way you puffed out your chest. “Thank you- I’m glad someone can appreciate my skills.” Cecil huffed at the look you threw at him. “Anyway-“ He cleared his throat.

[realjem-art]

thinking about minor redesigns w/ Goliath again... kinda hard to tell what the hell im doing in plain sketch tho </3 gotta do a colored thing soon!

[foldingfittedsheets]

I desperately hope the person who just bought my Eating Out design on an apron knows they’re wearing a dirty joke.

[ceramicbeetle]

Desperately trying to make sense of Alex's motivations in Season Two and you know, I do eventually have to wonder if maybe Alex wasn't actually lying in the majority of those tapes.

Like, we tend to assume that Alex's motivations have been a consistent throughline since the college years, but do we actually know that that's the case? Do we know for sure that Alex was acting in deliberate, calculated ways in 2006; or could it be that he's telling the Truth on those olds tapes when he says he's blacking out and can't remember what's happening to anyone? After all, if we're assuming that Season 2 Alex's motivations are the exact same as his motives in Season 3, then it doesn't make any sense at all that he spend months working with Jay to try to find Amy; Season 3 Alex would have attempted to kill Jay like, on sight just to get things over with as quickly as possible and contain the spread of contamination as best as he could.

But, maybe, if Alex really had been separated from Amy after the events of the 04-04-10 tape, and if he really doesn't know where she is, then maybe that could make things start to make more sense. Maybe he really had been watching Jay's channel, and seeing Jay start going through the same things he went through in college without things devolving into violence and disappearances, and wondered if things maybe could play out differently this time. Maybe he really did send that tape to Jay to ask him for help, maybe he really was just trying to find Amy.

But then, instead of actually being helpful, Jay makes it extremely clear that he's a lot more interested in stalking Alex than he is in finding Amy. Alex asked for help, and instead there's a bunch of masked dudes on Jay's heels that keep attacking him, Jay is breaking into his house, stealing his things, leading the Operator right to him all over again, keeps trying to get other people (namely: Jessica -- if Alex is being honest when he says that his call reassuring her that Amy had been found was an effort to make Sure she stayed away from everything that was happening) involved; and instead of anything getting better, instead of anyone finding Amy, things are just getting worse all over again.

It's not until after the incident at the tunnel that things seem to start rapidly devolving. Rather than a calculated attempt to finally follow through with his need to curb the spread of contamination, this is very clearly an outburst of rage and terror. Alex's "I told you not to follow me" line in conjunction with Jay speculating that Alex didn't know who that guy was, to me, pretty firmly seems to speak to Alex having mistaken that stranger for Jay. From his point of view, Alex knows that Jay and totheark know where he live, have broken in before, he suspects that Jay stole a key to make it easier to get into his house, and he's been followed on the daily for months -- Alex is sitting at the tunnel because he doesn't know where else he can go without being constantly surveilled, hunted, and assaulted. And instead of getting a moment by himself to breathe, Jay followed him out there all over again (it feels like Alex looks directly at the camera in Jay's footage of him from this day; he knew for a fact that Jay was there), and then to make matters worse now 'Jay' won't even keep his distance anymore.

So Alex lashes out. And it's not until afterwards that he looks down and finally recognizes that this wasn't Jay -- it was someone completely innocent. Things have finally reached the low point he was at in college all over again; maybe even worse this time. If Alex doesn't remember attacking anyone in college, but he was at least partially conscious of it this time, then things have reached an entirely new rock bottom, they've reached an absolute point of no return.

He has no idea what happened to Amy, and he's spent months trying to find her with no hint of where she could be; he doesn't know where Jay actually is or what additional trouble he could be causing at this point; he does know that now innocent people are getting caught in the crossfire (in regards to the stranger in the tunnel, and also Jessica now that Jay has her phone number, and the untold number of people Jay got involved when he started posting videos to the Marble Hornets channel); things are spiraling out of control and there's no one left to ask for help. The situation isn't getting better, it's getting worse; things aren't getting easier to handle, they're just getting more out of hand; the negative impact is spreading and who knows how much further it can still go?

So, Alex decides to go scorched earth. He disfigures the body with the rock either to hide evidence or to make sure the guy would actually stay dead and not just get back up to start his own cycle of contamination in a few years. He tries to give Jay one last chance to back off, and Jay instead admits he's been talking to Jessica, acts obstinate and lies about not having Alex's spare key, and then breaks into Alex's house a second time (minimum). If Alex doesn't stop him now, who will? Alex met with Jay planning to kill the others, and then himself, so he could put a stop to this once and for all and keep things from getting any worse than they already were.

Maybe it makes a lot more sense if, rather than being a strangely incomprehensible detour on what should have been a straight path, the events of Season Two were the breaking point that put Alex on that path to begin with.

[deviousdiesel]

.

[light-wrath-paradise]

*potently insane* I should re-read Monster by Naoki Urasawa

[reignpage]

Mornings with Husband!Nanami

He finds mornings bittersweet. 

On one hand, he has to go to work, and worst of all, leave you. And on the other, he gets to see a side of you he only sees in the early hours of the day, when most of the city seem to still be asleep and he gets to catch sight of your slumbering face without you knowing and grumbling about it.

Husband!Nanami always has the ring on his alarm off. So instead of that obnoxious blaring, he’s instead woken up by vibrations which rumble under his pillow. Why does he do that?

Well, of course, because he doesn’t want to wake you. 

Even before you two officially began dating, you made it abundantly clear how much you hate waking up early. And then when you had started dating, you made it exponentially clearer how much you absolutely, irrevocably despise — nay, resent! — having to part ways with his warm, solid body. 

Husband!Nanami slides himself out of bed, dressed only in his boxers, and he tucks the covers back over you, smiling to himself as you snuggle against his pillow. 

Once showered, he makes a quick breakfast and makes sure there’s a fresh pot of coffee for you before he heads back into the room to change as quietly as possible. Tiptoeing, he makes his way around the room, avoiding the parts of the floor that creak. And despite his best efforts, his darling wife apparently has instincts a successful sorcerer with quality skills and talents cannot overcome. 

“Kenny,” you groan out. 

Husband!Nanami sighs, mentally kicking himself for his carelessness. “Morning, sweetheart. I’m so sorry for waking you.”

“Mmm, it’ll be okay if you kiss me.”

He watches you push yourself up with your eyes closed just as he buttons his shirt. There’s a sleepy smile on his face that’s dazzling and your eyes are compelled by that divine light to open just enough to beckon him over. 

Husband!Nanami loves to tease, so he says, “I’d love to, darling, but your morning breath is infamously deadly.”

A laugh is startled out of him by the finger you shove in the air.

Husband!Nanami can’t ever say no to you. He just can’t. He’s tried a couple times: when you asked for a parrot, when you wanted to squeeze him in a pretty dress of yours, and when you tried to propose to him. 

Sometimes he was successful. Sometimes he wasn’t. This time is the latter. 

“Alright, but just one kiss, okay? And then I have to go. Promise me, honey.”

Husband!Nanami knows you have your fingers crossed behind your back when you nod with a cheesy grin, citing, “Scout’s Honour!”

And just as he suspects, you do not stick to your promise and he finds himself wrestled into bed with your surprising strength — though, he won’t admit that he doesn’t exactly fight your hulk-like grip. 

Husband!Nanami arrives at work right on time, which by his standards is late, but he doesn’t complain. In fact, when he settles into his office, he’s opening the picture you sent him and it's an arrow to the heart. You're in bed wearing his shirt, and just his shirt, with the most adorable pout ever. It takes him all his strength to fight the urge to drive home and bury himself in your arms…

Maybe even between your legs, but that’s lunchtime’s problem. 

Husband!Nanami can't wait.

[kngrose]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐓 𝐀 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐎 𝐈'𝐌 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐃...

imagine a situationship with sevika

WARNINGS: mentions of cheating, drinking, bi! reader but wlw, eventual smut, modern au

from roselí. ᡣ𐭩 : i have way too many thoughts about this— this will have multiple parts. see part two here. ^^

It wasn’t supposed to happen. You didn’t plan for it. But somewhere along the line, something changed. Your relationship had gotten too… comfortable. At first, the changes were subtle; He wasn’t saying anything outlandish, nothing to make you question your relationship.

But there were small instances, ones where he’d forget plans you made, or when he’d linger on his phone a little longer than usual in your company. You told yourself it was nothing; he might just be a little more stressed than usual– maybe there’s something personal he’s going through.

But as time passed, the pattern became clearer. Conversations that used to flow easily were now strained, almost forced, filled with half-hearted responses. He didn't pick up on the little things anymore; your new manicure or your haircut you had gotten to perfectly frame your face, in hopes that he would notice.

He wouldn’t be as passionate anymore, the fire he once held slowly dimming before your eyes. It was disheartening. The spark that once kept your relationship alive is fading, and you're left with a gnawing feeling of emptiness that you can’t quite explain.

And then there was her.

It wasn’t anything too large, the event. Just a kickback amongst some of your shared friends and some extras they’d invited. You’d tagged along with your boyfriend who’d long forgotten about you, chopping it up with a few of the guys on the couch. You felt a sour twinge in your gut as you sat beside him; this is the most enthusiasm he’s shown in weeks.

You’d noticed her in your solitude; shooting you glances across the room. Similar to you, she hadn’t said much of anything, just idly man-spread on the neighboring couch, red cup held loosely in her hand. You’ve never seen her before… you wonder whose friend she is.

You can't help but return the glances– look at her. Her broad shoulders, her thighs, her hands decorated with rings. The piercings that decorate her face. Those eyes, assessing you as she circles the rim of her cup with an index finger, a little smirk forming on her dark lips.

How could you help it– when she’s just radiating with unspoken confidence? It’s captivating, drawing you in like a deer in headlights. There’s a sharpness in her eyes that unsettles you, and yet, something about it excites you. She’s not like anyone you’ve ever seen.

You realized later that she was just waiting. Waiting for your boyfriend to excuse himself so she could move in. It’ll make you wonder later, how much of this she premeditated. It doesn’t take her long to approach you when he leaves, sliding into the spot next to you curtly, smirking as she meets your eyes. She’s beautiful up close.

She’s looking at you with that calculating gaze, making it clear she’s intrigued. She scans your face up and down, “Like your hair… suits you.”

Her voice was deep, commanding, like she had the power to bend the world to her will. You feel your cheeks warm under her gaze, touching your hair softly. “Thank you.” You manage to retort, embarrassingly glancing away. When you shot your eyes back to hers your breath got caught in your chest, her gaze is unwavering. A chuckle rumbles from her throat, “You’re cute.”

But it's not just the look—it’s the way she speaks to you. It’s amazing how easily she manages to fluster you, it’s effortless. Sevika, you learn that her name is, charms you with her dry humor and college stories, entertaining you the entirety of the night.

She tells you about all of the petty fights she’s been in, and all of her run ins with the police. Some of which are so descriptive you have to wonder if she’s being generous with the details. All the while she’s charming you up, placing a hand on your knee, then to your thigh, drawing small circles. You take note of the way she seems to fixate on your hair, constantly moving it from your face or twisting the strands between her fingers.

The flirtation feels different—darker. Her voice rumbles with a kind of quiet power, and when her hand brushes against yours, it lingers just a little too long. You want to pull away, but instead, you stay. The tension builds, and despite your better judgment, a part of you is drawn to it. To her.

You wish you could go back in time and slap yourself. You knew better than to get yourself alone with this girl, this freakishly charismatic, freakishly, randomly attractive girl. But you let her lead you away to a secluded hallway of the house, her excuse being the music was too loud.

And she continued conversing with you, leaning against the wall and swallowing down the rest of the cup. She huffed out something between a scoff and a laugh, “You a nanny or somethin’?” You shot her a confused look in response. She looked down, nodding her head towards the red cup in your hand. “You’re babysitting.” 

“Oh, this…” You mutter, swirling the drink around plainly. “Not much of a drinker.” You notice the roll of her eyes as she pushes herself off the wall and your breath hitches as she closes in on you. She pulls the cup from your hand, raising a large hand to your chin to tilt your head back. You barely manage to sputter, “What are you doing–!” before she orders you to, “Open,” nudging your chin softly.

You lock eyes with her for the umpteenth time, her eyes filled with something different this time around. You hesitantly part your lips, allowing her to pour the rest of the content into your mouth. There’s a soft groan leaving her mouth as she watches some of it spill from the corner of your lips down your chin.

The way her eyes lingered on your lips made your heart race. You were suddenly aware of how close you were, how her scent filled your senses, how her gaze felt like a slow burn.

You don’t say anything, but you can feel the heat between you both, the pull that’s been growing stronger with each passing second. Before you know it, she’s kissing you—rough and urgent, her hands gripping your hips with a hunger that matches the storm brewing inside you. Her kiss is overwhelming, like a fire that consumes you whole. You melt into it, into her, not thinking about the consequences, not thinking about him.

The moment ends just as quickly as it began, but the aftershocks are impossible to ignore. You stand there, breathless, disoriented, and yet, there’s a part of you that doesn’t regret it. It feels raw, real, and alive in a way you haven’t felt in a long time.

You pull away from Sevika, your chest tight with confusion and shame. But Sevika just watches you, unfazed. There’s no sympathy in her gaze, in fact, all you could register was a sly smirk on her lips. Sevika moves to stand close to you, her presence overwhelming, wrapping a hand around your throat, "What's holding you back?" she mumbles against your lips.

And in that moment, you realize that nothing is holding you back. You’ve already made your choice without even knowing it.

There’s no turning back now.  

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[aurorawhisperz]

You’re All I Need (r.c.)

contains: swearing, angst, mentions of pregnancy, family drama.

father!rafe x mother!reader

a/n: if this goes well and finds its way into my busy schedule, i’ll turn this into a series! and guess who just hit the two-decade mark.. 🎉🎂

summary: you’re sick, exhausted, and barely holding it together while caring for your daughter, juno, alone. desperate, you call rafe, your ex and her father, for help.

who am i to want you now that you’re leaving?

•

almost a year ago, you and rafe had gotten into a big fight over the summer that left both of you saying things that couldn’t be taken back. by the time he was gone, you thought it was over for good. he stormed off and it felt like the end.

that was the same summer you found out you got knocked up.

when you finally told him about the baby, he swore he wanted to be there, for both of you. but you couldn’t do it. you didn’t his half-assed attempts at playing family. so you told him he could be in the baby’s life, but not yours.

the day your daughter was born, nothing felt real. you named her juno, inspired by a movie you’d watched a hundred times during your pregnancy. you didn’t need rafe there that day. at least, that’s what you told yourself.

and for a while, that worked. until tonight.

the fever is unbearable, heat radiating from your body as you lean against the wall to steady yourself, your legs trembling beneath you.

juno cries loudly, sharp and continuous, her small fists waving in anger from her playpen. juno was only a few months old, but the sounds she made tonight seem louder than anything, or maybe it is the throbbing in your head that is making everything clearer.

you tried to calm her down—rocking her, even her close until your arms felt like they might give out but your fever had drained every ounce of strength out of you.

rafe was in the middle of a business call when his phone rang. he saw your name on the caller ID and immediately sensed that something was off. he excuses himself from the meeting and quickly picks up.

“what’s up?" he asks, his voice filled with concern and curiosity. “do you wanna have juno tonight?”you ask, not entirely aware of what you’re doing. “i don’t don’t know..I’m just..” then you sigh. “she’s been saying ‘dada’ all day and she refuses to eat.”

rafe winced at the loud noise. juno’s cries are clearly heard from the other end. it was clear that you were having a hard time, and he felt concerned for both you and juno.

“yeah, ‘course, i’ll take her.” he replies quickly, then rafe doesn’t waste any time. telling some lame excuse to his clients, gathering his things and completely bailing on the group of people in the meeting room.

the drive to your place felt excruciatingly long, but he kept his foot on the gas, determined to get there as fast as possible. rafe offered you and juno a spot at tanneyhill but since you were too petty towards him at that time, you declined.

He rushes to his car, his mind racing with thoughts about you and Juno. The drive to your place feels excruciatingly long, but he keeps his foot on the gas, determined to get there as fast as possible.

finally, he reaches your home and practically jumps out of the car, making his way to the door and banging on it urgently.

"(name)? it’s me! open up!" he calls out, the sound of juno’s cries echoing in his ears.

when you open the door, rafe’s eyes slightly widen in worry at your appearance. he could see the paleness in your face and the exhaustion in your eyes. he quickly steps inside, his eyes scanning the room for juno.

"are you alright?" he asks, his voice filled with concern. "you look absolutely exhausted. what’s going on with you?”

“i’m fine, she’s in my room..” and rafe saw all the tell-tale signs of a fever as he watched you lay down on the couch. he knows you’re not as ‘fine’ as you claim but doesn’t push the issue for now.

a year ago, rafe cameron was chaos incarnate. consumed by his demons, or maybe he was the demon. the outer banks was his kingdom, and as much as you don’t want to admit it, the rafe walking up the stairs to go see your daughter isn’t the same man you walked away from last summer.

decades of being ward cameron’s son don’t just vanish but having a daughter changed rafe in many ways no one thought was possible. he’s more conscious, more quiet, like he’s constantly trying to prove more to himself than to everyone that he was better than the man who raised him.

you’ve seen him with juno, the way he holds her like she’s the only thing that matters in the world.

rafe watches you as you lie down on the couch, he frowns when he sees how weak you look.

he turns and heads straight to the room where juno is crying. he walks over to the crib and leans over, gently scooping up the little girl, holding her close to his chest.

"hey, little one," he coos, his voice soft and soothing. "your dad’s here." juno immediately stops crying as rafe picks her up, her small body calming at the familiarity of his touch and voice. rafe rocks her in his arms, gently shushing her and whispering words of comfort.

"there you go," he murmurs, his fingers gently stroking her soft hair. "no more cries now, i’ve got you."

he walks back to the living room, holding juno close to his chest as he approaches you on the couch.

"hey," rafe says softly, his tone showing concern. "you really don't look well." he moves closer, gently resting a hand on your forehead to feel your temperature. as he suspected, your skin was hot to the touch.

you look up to see him with juno on his hip. “just take care of her for the night.” and your eyes nearly flutter shut.

rafe saw through the way your eyes struggled to stay open. he saw how sick you truly were, but you're trying so hard to hide it.

"damn it," he mutters, his voice tight with worry and frustration. "baby, you’re in no condition to take care of juno on your own right now. you need to rest, and i can't just leave knowing you're not okay."

rafe reluctantly looks down at juno in his arms, her tiny face looking up at him with wide trusting eyes. he then glances back at you, still lying on the couch, weakness written all over your face.

"i will," he replies firmly. "but first, I'm putting you to bed. you need to rest and get better. then I'll take care of the baby."

he heads up and carefully sets juno on the crib for a moment and then walks downstairs, over to the couch, gently scooping you up in his arms.

“put me down..” you whine. "no" rafe replies firmly, his grip on you tightening slightly. "you’re burning up with a damn fever. no condition to be worrying about juno right now." he carries you towards your bedroom, his arms holding you securely against his chest. though you protest, he ignores your weak struggles.

once he reaches your bedroom, he gently lays you down on the bed, making sure you're comfortable and settled. he pulls the covers up over you, tucking you in and smoothing back your hair from your forehead.

looking down at you, he can see how exhausted you really are, the fever taking a toll on your body. but his focus quickly shifts to the crib where juno is starting to cry again, her hunger growing stronger.

rafe watches you for a moment, concerned. the feeling of your skin under his touch tells him how high your fever really is. he glances over at the crib, juno’s cries growing louder.

"stay right here," he instructs you firmly. "i’ll feed our baby, then i’m coming back to check on you."

with a sigh, rafe picks juno up from the crib and brings her to the kitchen. he goes through the motions of preparing a bottle for juno, mixing the formula with warm water and shaking it gently until it's ready. he then sits down next to your bed, leaning back against the headboard while he carefully feeds juno the bottle.

his eyes occasionally flick to you, checking on your condition. even though he's busy feeding the baby, he keeps a watchful eye on you, noticing every shiver and every sign of discomfort in your sick state.

after a few minutes, juno is satisfied, her tiny belly full and content. she starts to drift off in rafe’s arms, her small eyes growing heavy.

he carefully passes the baby back to the crib and turns his attention back to you. he returns to your bedside and sits down, his eyes studying your pale and weary face. the sight of you in this state was devouring him from the inside.

your eyes flutter open. “rafe, take her to your house..” then you turn to the side, your back facing him.

rafe looks down at you, gently taking your hand in his own, it broke his heart a little. the fact that you're asking him to take juno now.

"baby," he murmurs, his voice gentle. "you’re still burning up. i can't just leave with juno while you're like this."

it was always like this with rafe. back then, whenever you didn’t want him to care for you, when you pushed him away, built your walls high, and told him you didn’t need him, he’d force it anyway. he had this annoying way of ignoring your protests, showing up when you least expected it with that hot stubborn determination in his eyes.

if you were sick, he’d be at your door with soup, even if he didn’t know how to make it. if you were upset, he’d sit next to you in silence, waiting until you caved. it didn’t matter how hard you tried to convince him you were fine; rafe never listened. he cared in the only way he knew how to care; recklessly, even when you swore you didn’t want him to. that part of him hasn’t changed at all.

“come on, she’s your only priority at the moment.” you try sending him away. his grip on your hand tightened a little at your words. “don't be fucking ridiculous," he retorts, his voice stern. "juno will be fine with me at my house. but you're not. you’re sick and need rest and care. i’m not just gonna abandon you like this. not happening."

“you don’t have to stay anyway… you’re not my husband or boyfriend or anything. you’re just her dad.”

rafe bites down at your words. he knows he’s nothing more to you than juno’s dad, but hearing you say it so bluntly still stings.

“no, i’m not your husband or boyfriend,” he replies, his tone sharper than intended. “but damn it, i still care about you, even if you don’t want me to.”

before you can respond, a shiver racks your body, your fever making you tremble. rafe notices immediately, his frustration giving way to concern.

“jesus, you’re burning up,” he mutters, leaning closer to place the back of his hand on your forehead. “why didn’t you tell me you were this bad?” he doesn’t wait for an answer. standing up, he moves to the kitchen, returning with a cool cloth. he gently presses it against your forehead, his jaw tight with worry.

“you’re in no condition to be alone right now,” he says firmly. “especially not with a fever this high. you need someone to take care of you, whether you like it or not.”

“take her,” you whisper, your voice weak. “i can take care of myself. you don’t have to do both.”

“damn it, will you just listen to me for once?” rafe snaps, his voice low but laced with irritation. “you’re not fine. you’re barely holding it together, and you want me to just walk away? why are you so goddamn stubborn?”

“i don’t need your help,” you insist, glaring at him weakly. “just watch juno. that’s all.”

rafe exhales sharply, trying to keep his temper in check.

“what’s it gonna take for you to get it through your head that you need support too?” he demands. “i care about both you and juno, you idiot. why can’t you just let me help you when you clearly need it?”

“and why does this concern you?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. his eyes narrow at your question, frustration bubbling over again.

“why do you think it concerns me?” he bites out, his voice rough. “you really have to ask that? you think i don’t care about you? you think i only see you as juno’s mom?”

you manage a breathy smirk, too weak to move but pleased nonetheless. “i knew it… son of a bitch.”

“knew what?” he challenges, his tone sharp. “that i actually give a damn about you more than you think? if you know, then why are you still fighting me on this? why are you so damn stubborn about letting me help?”

your smirk stays on your face, though your eyelids are already drooping from exhaustion.

“yeah, i care about you,” he admits, his voice quieter now. “you drive me absolutely fucking insane with how stubborn you are, but i still care. happy now?”

when you don’t respond, too tired to argue anymore, he shakes his head and adjusts the cool cloth on your forehead.

“i’m not leaving,” he says, and there’s no point in arguing. “someone has to take care of you since you clearly can’t be trusted to do it yourself.”

the room feels smaller with him in it, like his presence is closing in on you from all sides. he settles next to you, the mattress dipping slightly, and it’s awkward, too close for comfort, too familiar for what you are now. exes. nothing more.

“you’re gonna get sick,” you mumble, your voice scratchy and weak. “you don’t have to do this.”

“don’t care,” he says, not even looking at you. his voice is calm, steady. “you’re burning up. if i get sick, so what?”

you try to sit up, even though your body feels like it’s made of lead and your head pounds with every slight movement. the fever’s still got you in its grip, but lying there next to rafe feels like too much. too intimate. too close.

but the second you push yourself up, the world tilts. your balance wavers, and before you can steady yourself, your head drops against something solid.

his shoulder.

rafe lets out an annoyed sigh as he watches you struggle to get up, knowing full well that you're too weak to stand on your own.

"damn it, woman," he mutters as you collapse back onto him. "what did I tell you? you’re supposed to be resting, not trying to get up and walk around like a lunatic."

he gently wraps his arm around you, supporting your weakened body against him.

"just stay still and don't move," he whispers. "you’re in no condition to be up and about. you need to rest and recover. you know i’ll take care of you, right? stop trying to do everything on your own."

rafe gently runs his fingers through your hair, his touch light and soothing.

your hand finds its way to rafe’s arm, fingers gripping him weakly, as if holding on to him will keep you steady. rafe freezes at the touch, his gaze dropping to where your hand rests against his skin. it’s a simple gesture, but it feels like everything all at once.

he doesn’t pull away. instead, he shifts slightly, his own hand coming up to gently squeeze yours, his grip warm and steady, like he’s anchoring you.

“you’ll get better,” he murmurs. “just give it time and let yourself rest. let me look after you for once, okay?”

you think about the way things used to be. sneaking off when you had the chance, meeting him at the beach under the cover of darkness. stolen kisses, the kind that made your heart race. rafe was always the one who pushed boundaries, the one who made you feel alive in ways you hadn’t thought possible.

“are you sleeping over?” you ask weakly, your voice barely above a whisper.

rafe looks down at you, the question pulling him out of his thoughts. he takes in your pale face, the tired lines around your eyes, and sighs. part of him wants to say no, to avoid whatever this is turning into, but he knows he can’t leave you like this.

“yeah,” he says finally, his tone gentle but firm. “yeah, i’m sleeping here. someone needs to keep an eye on your stubborn ass so you don’t try to do chores at three in the morning.”

you let out a weak laugh, but it fades quickly. “you shouldn’t be here,” you mutter, shaking your head slightly. “it’s—it’s awkward. it’ll just make things weird.”

rafe arches a brow, his lips twitching into something between a smirk and a frown. “why are you acting like something’s gonna happen between us?” he counters, his tone light but laced with something deeper. “it’s fine. stop overthinking it and just… lay down. you’re not gonna win this argument.”

before you can protest, he gently guides you back down, his hand steady at your back. the warmth of his body against yours is impossible to ignore, but you’re too drained to fight it.

then, out of nowhere, he leans down and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. the gesture is so tender it takes your breath away, but you’re too tired to react.

as your eyelids grow heavier, your mind drifts back to the first time rafe said he loved you. it wasn’t in a quiet, romantic moment, it was in the middle of an argument. his voice had been loud, angry and raw, but it was real. rafe always let things spill out when he couldn’t hold them back anymore.

now, as sleep pulls you under, you hear his voice again, quieter this time.

“i miss you,” he whispers.

you don’t respond. maybe you’re too far gone, maybe you don’t want to. but maybe you miss him too.

[cream1111]

🍎 phone call. . .ᐟᅟ

⠀⎯⎯⠀⠀caleb/mc!reader, 1.6k, incest, somno, dubcon, mutual masturbation, phone sex, pillow humping. @rukii-afterdark , order up! ! part 1

ring ring . . .

you jolt up, eyes popping open before they settle onto your phone, with a groan you pull it closer. squinting  your  sleepy  eyes  at  the  bright  screen, you see the caller's name. caleb. you sigh, it's  1am,  much  later  than  he  usually  calls. you answer and let the phone fall next to your head.

“gege,  why  are  you  calling  so  late?”  you  whine, fighting back a yawn.

“aw,  did  i  wake  you? you sound like you're half asleep”  caleb  sounds teasing but sympathetic, and  slightly  out  of  breath...  maybe  he's  settling  into  bed  himself.

“yeah  a  bit,"  you groan a bit, your annoyed tone remaining playful "but  it's  ok…  what's  up?”  you  ask,  closing  your  eyes,  and  snuggling  back  into  your  bed.  letting  your  phone  rest  on  the  pillow  next  to  your head. 

“it's nothing serious,  i just missed  you,  l⎯”  his  breath  hitches. you  peek  your  eyes  open and  glance  at  your  phone, wondering if the call dropped. you don't have the volume very high, so you're not sure. you  pull  it  closer,  it looks like the call is still going. you press it against your ear.  it's not entirely silent, there's  a  shuffling  sound,  but it's  faint.

“are  you  ok?”  you  murmur,  confused. the shuffling seems to stop, but it's hard to tell under the barely audible droning static his mic is picking up. you let your eyes drift shut again.

“sorry,  yeah,  just,  long  day.”  he  replies  quickly,  his  voice  sounding  more  strained.  “what  about  you?  miss  me?” 

“of  course,  everyday,  you  know  that.” you'd roll your eyes if they weren't already closed. as much as you love talking to caleb, you really are tired. "listen, it's late⎯"

"i know, pipsqueak. i'm sorry for waking you. i just wanted to hear your voice." there's a tinge of urgency to his voice. you would've hurried to hang up if you didn't notice it. it makes you feel a bit guilty. he pauses, you wait to see if he'll say more. "how about this, how about you just go back to sleep but keep me on call. hearing your sleepy breathing always puts me at ease"

is that all?

"you're so cheesy," you tease. then you hum, pretending to think about it. but you're just as bad as he is, you can't ever say no to him. "yeah, fine, but i'm really going to bed, you better not keep talking to me. i won't even answer, i'll just snore"

he let's out a soft chuckle. "that's fine, snore all you like" he replies. "sleep well" he whispers, honey sweet. he's always been so sweet with you.

"goodnight" you mumble, already feeling the drowsiness washing over you. you try to quell the small excitement that caleb even wants to do something so lovey dovey with you. it warms your heart a bit, not that you'd admit it out loud. even though it's not that much of a leap, you've fallen asleep together so many times, something about it feels a little more intimate. that he misses you enough to try and pretend you're both sharing a bed. it makes it easier to pretend he is here, he's home and he's with you, keeping you warm.

your breathing evens out, you almost forget you're on the phone.

. . .

through your sleep you hear something, softly, distant. you focus, waking just a bit. you're alone. but you remember you fell asleep on the phone with caleb. is he talking? something woke you, you're pretty sure. you rouse yourself, focusing, listening.

nothing. it might've been in your dream. though you figure you'll scold him anyways, tell him to keep quiet or you'll mute him. but then you hear it again, clearer now.

"h-hah..."

no way. there's no way, is he⎯

"ah⎯ fuck"

you freeze. a blush heating up your face. you shift closer, turning up the volume as quietly as you can. just to be sure. you hear the sound of something moving, fast, wet. he's...

he's jacking off. it sounds so obvious now. the soft panting, the rhythmic sound of his hand on his well lubricated cock. a heat surrounds you, you feel like you're suffocating at the implication. there's also a gnawing unease, that you're misinterpreting this and there's some reasonable explanation that you are blind to. maybe you're just hearing what you want to hear.

you've always wanted him, more than a sister should. you rationalize it sometimes, you're not siblings, not really. it's not hard to want him, it seems just about every girl at his school would agree with you. but the shame helps you weigh those thoughts down, tuck them away in a deep corner of your mind. your relationship is unconventional, but you're just close, you just love each other, would do anything for each other, there's nothing wrong with it. you've held onto this justification for a long time.

but maybe it's a lot simpler than that.

you're not entirely sure about what's happening, if he's doing what you think he's doing. but… it couldn't hurt to pretend.

your rationalizations fade, you push the shame to the side, and you dip your fingers, along your chest, slowly, savoring the feeling. focusing on the panting, the faint sound of his hand.

your fingers dance along your skin, you're teasing yourself, until you slip them past your pajamas, over your panties. you palm yourself, rubbing, imagining the sweet friction was against him, anywhere — his hand, his thigh, his face. you realize, rather quickly, a wet spot has already formed, and you flush, feeling embarrassed with yourself.

did just the thought of him, the sound of him, do this to you?

when did you become so dirty.

you can't help the soft noise that leaves your lips at your discovery, and you realize suddenly that caleb quiets on the other the line.

you pause as well. holding your breath. for a second you can't hear anything. does he think you're awake? does he think you're doing the same thing? does he want to end the call?

"f-fuck..." he moans out, the sounds from before continue, faster, more enthusiastic. you're not sure what he thinks, but whatever it is, he's keeping it to himself.

the idea of him getting more excited, it lights a fire in you. you rub yourself faster. you try to be quiet, you really do, but you can't help the huffs and sighs that leave your lips. it's not that obvious, you think. but caleb seems to get more eager with every tiny sound you make. it's good incentive.

you can't help but think about the situation, both of you touching yourselves while on the phone, not acknowledging it, leaving room for plausible deniability. the idea that you're reading this wrong sends a shiver down your spine.

“ngh.. please” he whispers, barely there. and you don’t know what he’s begging for but you want to give it to him. you rub harder, then sigh in frustration. it's not enough. you flip, shifting onto your stomach, trying your hardest to stay quiet. you place a pillow between your legs, and waste no time before grinding against it.

you huff, loving the feeling. even if you're misunderstanding this, you like pretending. that it was his warm body heating you up, making you feel good. with your phone placed next to your ear, you imagine he was there, groaning behind you, just out of sight, touching himself for you.

you let out a whimper at the thought, a little louder. his response is immediate, a low groan. to your surprise, he speaks.

"you⎯ mm... you must be having a nice dream, pipsqueak."

you bite your lip and keep still at his words. does he want you to respond? does he really think you're still sleeping? you don't want to acknowledge it. you continue, quieter, a little shy. you don't want the illusion shattered. grinding your hips into the mattress, desperate.

you imagine his body, and it's not hard. you've memorized the feeling of his frame against yours. he's pressing into you, in time with his groans, you move at the same pace, whimpering when you buck back against the empty air. but you pull yourself back into your fantasy, he's there, his soft sounds are for you, only you.

"fuck," he hisses out, seeming to bite back the sound.

it's becoming too much, your mind is getting so cloudy, reason and shame seem like distant concepts. in this moment, it’s just the pleasure between you two, his touch, his kiss, his body, him.

"i'm— i'm gonna-" his whispers spur you over the edge.

you can barely hear his grunts as he releases with you. your mind goes blank. you don't bother with being quiet, couldn't if you wanted to. you rut helplessly, greedily, panting and whimpering all the while. as satisfaction washing over you. he hums, before letting out a satisfied sigh himself, and you smile sleepily into your pillow.

but as your heartbeat slows into a regular rhythm, and your face cools down, you're left with a pit in your stomach. the room feels colder, the call is quiet, the guilt comes rushing back all at once with nothing to keep it at bay. did you two really just do that? were you really that reckless?

what are you going to do in the morning?

"shit, i made a mess." he mumbles, but he doesn't sound too upset about it. in fact he sounds a little smug. you don't reply, but it calms you a bit, brings you comfort. a vague acknowledgement at this new game you two are playing. with all it's plausible deniability. you decide you'll follow his lead.

so when he yawns, you let the sound soothe you, you let sleep surround you. you leave your shame to him. he's always been the source, he can shoulder it for you.

it's only fair anyways, you were just sleeping, and he's the one who called you.

he made the mess, he can decide if he wants to clean it up.

[nonranghaes]

you pick up on the first ring when soonyoung calls, much to his relief, as he continues to wander through the apartment. he pulls the bathroom door closed, and looks around again. "... did you go somewhere?"

"no?" your voice is a little muffled, a little hoarse from what he suspects was a nap, but grows clearer after a second. "i'm home."

"no, you're not." soonyoung takes a few steps, turning in a circle once more. you're clearly not in the kitchen, not draped across the couch, and it's too quiet on your end of the call for you to be out on the balcony. "i've checked everywhere for you."

he pauses, eyeing the small closet in the entryway. its crowded with boxes and other things, but... he can't resist making his way over, slowly pulling the door open enough to peek inside. just as he expected, it's still cluttered. the two of you really should go through it all one day...

"i'm in bed? i told you," you pause long enough to yawn, "i was taking a nap after work..."

he furrows his brows, already making his way back to the bedroom. "i told you, i already looked in there--" he opens the bedroom, looking around the dark room before flicking the light on. again, he doesn't see you. "is this a prank? i'm hungry and i thought we were going out--"

you sit up from underneath your mountain of blankets, and soonyoung laughs. the sound echoes on your phone for a moment as he ends the call, already making his way over with a loving "hi, baby," to pepper kisses on your face. you still look like you just woke up, squinting at him as you drop your phone back onto the bed and lean into him.

next time, you'll take a video. just so you can tease him a little over it... and maybe relisten to that laugh a couple times when you're having your hardest days.

[moonstruckme]

A Winter Wonderland

summary: you marvel at the beauty of your Christmas tree, and your boyfriends marvel at you

poly!marauders x whimsical!reader ♡ 911 words

You could fall asleep here, you think. It’s very lulling, the sound of the fireplace crackling a few feet away, the scent of pine needles, and the view of a forest unlike any other stretching out in front of you. Lights of blue and green and red filter through the thicket, and poking through you can see the edge of a handmade paper star, the fuzzy end of a dog’s tail. Your Christmas tree from below. 

“What are you doing?” Sirius has the half amused tone of when he feels like he’s caught you at something odd and he hasn’t decided whether to rag you or to join you yet. 

“Admiring our decorating,” you reply. “We did a good job.” 

“You’re supposed to look at it from in front of the tree, sweetness.” 

“It looks nice from there, too,” you allow, “but nobody ever appreciates it from down here.” 

There’s a new set of footsteps, a big hand on your knee. “Are the branches not scraping you?” James asks curiously. 

“Only sometimes.” 

You hear a smile in his voice. “It’s worth it, though, eh?”

You hum in affirmation. 

“Well, this I’ve gotta see.” 

James is bigger than you are. You lift the branches for him as he shoots his top half in beside you, but when you let go they come to rest on his chest. He grins at you before looking at anything else. A classic James Potter smile, heartfelt and breathtakingly handsome.

“Hi, angel.” 

“Hi.” You reach for his glasses, carefully readjusting them on his nose. 

“It smells nice in here.” 

“It does,” you agree, pleased to be sharing it. You turn your face upward again. James follows suit. “It looks like another world.” 

“It is very pretty,” he says. Multicolored lights spiraling upward, the odd ornament sticking in through the branches, the tree itself lush and fantastical in dark green. “You’re right, we did a good job decorating.” 

“Don’t you sort of want to live here?” you ask on a sigh.

“You mean here in our sitting room?”

“No, here in the forest.” 

“Ah.” James gives this some thought. “It is nice, but I quite like my life the way it is.” 

You turn to look at him, and he’s already looking at you, glasses reflecting a rainbow of lights and brown eyes warmer than warm behind them. Your insides go soupy. 

“I like it, too,” you say softly. “I wouldn’t want to go if you all couldn’t come with me. Maybe we could move our place there. Or just visit sometimes, like camping.” 

James smiles at you. A dimple appears in his left cheek. “You mean on weekends?”

“Sure.” 

“I’m sure we could make that happen, lovely.” 

“Oi.” Sirius gives your knee a little shake. By the way James looks down, you guess your boyfriend’s doing the same to him. “What are you two whispering about down there?”

“He’s jealous.” James drops his voice into a deeper whisper, louder yet somehow less intelligible, solely to provoke Sirius. “He knows this view is better than in front of the tree.” 

“I don’t know,” you say, smiling at his antics. “I think he’s just worried we’re discussing his Christmas gifts.” 

Another shake to your knee, more insistent this time. “What is going on down there?” 

“Nothing,” James sing-songs. 

“Who’s left a pot of soup on the stove?” asks Remus, voice becoming clearer as he comes into the room.

“Oh, that was me,” you say. “It’s just simmering, don’t worry.” 

“It’s…what the fuck…” 

“I know,” Sirius says emphatically. 

“Dovey, why are you and James’ legs sticking out from under the tree like the Wicked Witch of the East?”

“Why do you assume it was her idea?” asks Sirius, at the same time as James asks, “Who’s the Wicked Witch of the East?” 

“I’m admiring our tree,” you tell Remus placidly.

“It does look really cool from down here,” James advocates for you. “Gives a new perspective on the decorating.” 

Remus makes an amused humming sound. “That’s really nice, but your soup’s nearly boiling over, sweetheart.” 

“Oh, no.” You start to wiggle out from underneath the tree. Sirius’ hands wrap around your ankles, giving you a helpful tug the rest of the way. You grin up at him. “Sorry,” you say to Remus, “I must have set the stove too high.” 

He smiles, reaching for you. “That’s okay.” He takes the ends of your hair between his fingers. “How’d you manage to get your hair wet?” 

“Hm?” You look. “Oh, it must have been in the tree’s water. I didn’t notice.” 

“There’ll be pine needles in it, too, then,” Sirius laughs. 

Remus shakes his head, but he’s looking at you like you’re one of his favorite things in the world. One of his favorite three things, for sure. 

“How about,” he suggests, “I go turn down the heat on your soup, and Sirius helps you get all the tree bits out of your hair?”

“That’s nice of you.” You push up on your toes, kissing Remus’ cheek. “Thanks.” 

Remus presses one to your lips in return, and Sirius takes your hand, leading you to the bathroom. 

“Did you dunk your hair in the water, too, Prongsie?” he asks when James follows. 

“I don’t think so,” says James. “I just want to see if her hair smells like Christmas tree.” 

Sirius hums. You giggle when he makes a show of bringing your hair to his nose, sniffing curiously. “It does, actually.”

[yjhzies]

“Tiptoe and kiss.” — Kim Mingyu

⸝⸝୭ ˚. fluff . one-shot . cute

⋆ pairings : mingyu x gn!reader ⋆ warning : reader is kinda grumpy due to just waking up (inspired by real life y'all 😔) ⋆ wc : 0.4k [✉️] · Mingyu's plan backfiring? A daily routine now. (only if he wasn't so down bad)

⋆ - note : YALL I HAD SO MANY UNFINISHED WRITINGS ITS INSANE. I finished some of them and I'll probably continue posting for a few days before I start a series <3 stay tuned!!

"Gyu?" You peep your head in the kitchen. You had slept in almost the entire afternoon, but when you felt Mingyu's side of the bed cold, you were wide awake.

Mingyu turned at the sound of your voice and smiled. "You're awake? how was your sleep?" He asked as you walked towards him, still trying to adjust to the lighting.

"Pretty good.." You mumble, wrapping your arms around his side and rested your head on his shoulder.

Your blurry vision made Mingyu look more big than he was, and you furrowed your eyebrows trying to get a clear view of your surroundings.

"That's good, I was just about to wake you up. I'm preparing noodles for us." Mingyu says, glancing at you with a soft smile.

You hum and nod in response-something in you too lazy to word out a better response. But you could think of an even better response. You tiptoe to peck his cheek, but couldn't reach him as he didn't lean down.

You weren't short, Mingyu was too tall.

And it was true, your height was just above average but Mingyu? A literal 6'2 man. You'd have to be a giant to almost reach his height.

Maybe he didn't realise-so you try once again, and again, but Mingyu still didn't lean down for you to kiss his cheek. But you could see more clearer to notice the slight smug smile spreading across his face, making you frown.

"Hey, don't ignore me."

"Huh?"

"I said don't ignore me."

"What do you mean, baby? I'm not ignoring you." Mingyu said softly, biting his lower lip to stop the smile tugging at his lips. He turned to you, barely managing to hold back his laugh at the sight of your pout.

"You're doing this on purpose..." You say, rolling your eyes. Despite being a little sleepy, you couldn't shake off the feeling of irritation at how Mingyu decided to tease you instead of wrapping his arms around you and letting you kiss him.

Mingyu finally burst into a fit of laughter, wrapping his arms around your waist and putting his head on your shoulder to stabilize himself.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," He apologized between giggles, tightening his strong arms around you.

That stupid little fang smile of his, making you smile aswell. He leaned down, just like he always did so that you can kiss him all over his face, and closed his eyes.

"Here you go," he waited for your soft lips to press against his skin.

"What?"

Mingyu opens his eyes, looking at you with raised eyebrows. "Hm?"

"What are you doing?" You ask, placing your hands on his chest. It was your turn to tease him now.

Mingyu blinked, and slowly straighted himself. He looked down at your hand and let his lower lip jut out into a pout.

"I'm sorry, baby, I shouldn't have teased you." His voice barely above a whisper, he apologized. And now, you burst into a fit a laughter and gently grab his face to peck his lips.

His pout immediately turned into a grin as his hands find your lower back, and he softly deepens the kiss.

[shrimpybbq]

season 1 rafe with his gf & son

i have to be sooo truthful here in that rafe is like 90% the actual worst during the events of season 1 to high school gf!

he's still doing drugs and going to parties, never coming home until the early morning if at all

maybe he was on better terms with his gf for a while, but everyone on the island knows that the pair are always on-and-off

when they are good, rafe is surprisingly sweet to her. he's always opening doors and looking after their son so she can rest. rafe is so much more physically affectionate too during these times, with his hands always on her, stroking her hip or playing with her hair

and then when they fight, it's like all that goes away and he's back to ignoring her

she lives in the main house now as that's where their son's nursery is, but most of the time she's sleeping in the guest room after they argue

rafe's idea of family bonding is going to the country club, drinking his expensive whiskey and eating overpriced food. he likes seeing his son look around wide-eyed at the new sights and new people, and he enjoys having his son sit in his lap while he drinks, mumbling nonsense to see his little smile

he tries to take his son out golfing once only to realise that he couldn't be away from his mother for so long, much to his annoyance. it's fine though bc he's insisting they all go together next time - problem solved in his mind

rafe and high school gf! go to midsummer's together as each others dates. rafe wouldn't have let her go with anyone else anyway, but he likes the display of having her on his arm. he matches his suit to the floral design of her gown to make the statement even clearer (they have a child together and he's worried about people knowing she's his???)

he manages to hide a lot of the events that go on from his gf, but some of them still reach her ears courtesy of sarah, and he can't stand the disappointed look she gives him. sometimes though, he makes her sit down and listen to his explanation, trying to get her to see his side. he's so relieved when she nods and no longer looks at him in that way (but she still doesn't tell him he was right, he always notes)

when barry burns rafe, he's knocking on the door of the guest room with tears in his eyes, clutching his badly burnt arm to his chest. gf just looks at him wide-eyed, telling him to sit on her bed while she grabs the first aid kit. rafe can't help but let the tears stream down his face as she cleans, his head coming to rest on her shoulder as he sobs. that night is the first time he sleeps with her in the guest room, his head nuzzled into her chest as she cradles him

ok but if barry ever threatens his girl and kid rafe won't let it go. he's landing a punch on the drug dealer's face immediately, his rage spiking instantaneously. barry learns not to threaten them again after the second time he wore purple bruises on his chin

oh, sweet pretty gf has no idea what rafe has done to the sheriff, and he plans to keep it that way. he wanted to protect his dad, but he absolutely refuses to let anything happen to his own family. she's so shocked when he tells her of john b's actions, the boy having lived down the hall from them, and rafe plays into the role of protector again. he's got her in his arms as she cries about how he was around their son, and rafe just hums and tells her "i would never let someone hurt either of you, you know that right?". it warms his heart to see her nod into his chest.

sometimes his gf walks into the nursery only to see her son not in his crib, but she knows exactly where he is. pushing open rafe's door she sees the two of them in bed, her sweet baby cuddled up on rafe's bare chest as they both sleep. he needs to be with his son when he has a bad day, which seems to be more often than not nowadays

rafe is rapidly growing more mentally unwell and the only thing that seems to soothe him is his gf and son, and he spends as much time as he can with them. the little baby is always in his arms as he coos down at him, watching his kid's eyes brighten at the sight of his dada. rafe reasons with himself that everything he does is to protect his family and that he couldn't be wrong then, could he?

Click here for pre-season 1 rafe, gf & their unborn son

Click here for season 2 rafe, gf & their son

Click here for season 3 rafe, gf & their son

Click here for season 4 part 1 rafe, gf & their son

Click here for the 18 month gap before season 4 rafe, gf & their son

Oh this was a bit of a novel, but rafe truly has so many facets to explore, let alone once you give him a big motivator like a kid!