#as long as you get one more than anyone else wanted to give you

[halbarryislife]

I just graduated college and took my capstone on propaganda. Not the just the history of it but also its evolution, how it works, and what makes the best propaganda.

With the ‘unbanning’ of tiktok and the inauguration being within a day of each other a lot of propaganda has been thrown at us. I want to share what is called “the ten rules of hate” from Matt Taibbi’s book “Hate: Inc: why today’s media makes us despise one another”, which was published in 2019.

To give some context for the ten rules, Taibbi says in this chapter (chapter two) regarding the news cycle, "after generations of doing the opposite, when unity and conformity were more profitable, now the primary product the news media sells is division."

But before I state the rules I just want to remind everyone PROPAGANDA OCCURS ON BOTH SIDES. Neither side is better than one another when it comes to propaganda, it is a necessity. I say this as a democrat who believes the next four years are going to be hell. Just today I saw propaganda from both sides, ironically fitting into these ten points.

THE TEN RULES OF HATE:

There are only two sides

The two sides are in permanent conflict

Hate people, not institutions

Everything is somebody else's fault

Nothing is everyone's faults

Root, don't think

No switching teams

The other side is literally Hitler

In the fight against Hitler, everything is permitted

Feel superior

What most people get wrong about propaganda is that its intention is not change your thought process immediately, no. The purpose of propaganda is to nudge you in a certain direction. Whether that be you seeing that trump unbanned tiktok and for a split moment you think 'maybe he isn't so bad' or seeing an instagram post from Path2Progress saying 'it's a dark day in America' and you get a tinge of fear.

I am making this post because I want you to be able to look at the media you are soaking up and be able to notice that people are trying to manipulate you. Of course, there are other points to propaganda that I did not get in here as I could write several papers on this subject, which I have.

And before anyone says in the comments, "but Trump is literally Hitler", I'm just going to point out that this cycle of calling people Hitler started long before Trump's presidency in 2016. Glenn Beck, who's a conservative commentator really began the "Your neighbor is literally Hitler" movement. In Taibbi's book he writes, "Beck was awesome at this. Al Gore was Hitler. Obama was constantly Hitler." I know must Democrats would not consider these men to be Hitler, but I use this example to demonstrate its use in years past on the other party.

I am going to leave you with a quote from one of the first books written about modern propaganda. It's called "Propaganda Techniques in the World War" and was written by Harold Laswell, then published in 1927.

“But by far the most potent role of propaganda is to mobilize the animosity of the community against the enemy, to maintain friendly relations with neutrals and allies, to arouse the neutrals against the enemy, and to break up the solid wall of the enemy.”

[calebsmuse]

not me haunting your asks in every single blog you own 😈 sooo, do you write parents!au? bc I wanted to request some scenario abt how sylus, caleb and xavier would react to their kids telling u to shut up. I KNOW ITS WEIRD BUT ITS A OLD TREND I THINK?? anyway, love ya babe 💘💋💋

੭⠀ A little prank.

⋆⠀AUTHOR'S NOTES: I love parents!au so much 😭

⋆⠀FEATURING: Xavier, Sylus, Caleb.

⋆⠀WARNING: English is not my first language, so it may contain some mistakes.

Your son’s favorite pastime was annoying his father, and he was certainly better at it than anyone else. Not only that, but he also managed to convince you to help with yet another one of his… pranks.

The boy smiled when he saw his father heading to the kitchen and turned back to his video game. Not long after, you walked into the room with something in hand. “Sweetheart, could you take this—”

“Shut up, mom,” he tried to say in an irritated tone, but a smile was plastered across his face.

𝜗ৎ ⠀⠀XAVIER

Not even five seconds had passed before your son was groaning in pain, Xavier’s slipper lying on the couch beside him after hitting the back of his head squarely. “Dad—”

Xavier raised the other slipper, pointing it at the boy. “Apologize. Now,” he said, his eyebrows furrowing. “Is that any way to talk to your mother?”

“But I was busy, and she—” Once again, the boy didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence, the other slipper flying straight at him. Xavier crossed his arms, his gaze fixed on his son.

You widened your eyes and placed a hand on your husband’s shoulder, squeezing it lightly. “Okay, okay, it was a… joke, just a prank.”

Xavier gave a faint smirk, glancing at you. “…Yeah, I knew that.” He pulled you into a hug, sticking his tongue out at your son. “You think I’d stop at that if I saw him disrespecting you like that?”

𝜗ৎ ⠀⠀SYLUS

Sylus prided himself on being an exemplary father. He was patient, fun—or so he thought—and wealthy. I mean, surely his son was already having a better childhood than most people who came from the same place Sylus had, right?

And perhaps it was exactly that freedom and comfort in his presence that made the boy feel confident enough to make that kind of joke.

“I must’ve misheard. Definitely,” Sylus said loud enough for both of you to hear. You turned away so he wouldn’t see your expression, while your son simply grimaced.

“Dad, she could’ve just asked one of my uncles to go—or, I don’t know, gone herself!” the boy said, spinning the pieces of a pistol between his fingers.

Sylus’s steps were almost inaudible; it was as if he had teleported to his son’s side. He crossed his arms, an irritated expression on his face. His son had never seen that look before—at least, not directed at him.

“Don’t you dare talk to your mother like that under this roof,” he said. “I don’t care if she could’ve asked someone else—if she tells you to do something, you do it. She brought you into this world.”

The boy couldn’t hold back his laughter, bursting out in hysterics. Your husband opened his mouth to say something but stopped when he saw you laughing as well. He let out a sigh, rubbing his face. “You too now?”

𝜗ৎ ⠀⠀CALEB

Honestly, your son was expecting Caleb to yell at him or chase after him, but it was even more terrifying to see him stay silent, slowly turning to face the boy.

He froze, setting the video game controller down on the coffee table. Caleb’s eyes stayed fixed on him, and his silence lingered just long enough to make the boy shift uncomfortably under the stare.

When Caleb finally spoke, his voice was strangely calm—and that wasn’t exactly a good thing. “You have five seconds to do as your mother said and come back here, and another five to apologize and explain yourself.”

You let out an awkward laugh before wrapping your arms around your husband. “It was just a joke, I swear.” Caleb glanced at you, slipping a hand under your shirt to give you a pinch. “Ouch! It was his idea!”

He rolled his eyes but let out a relieved laugh, despite his irritation with your newfound way of spending free time. “I should’ve known.”

[seungfl0wer]

*Daddy Chan*

Daddy Series:

Bangchan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Han | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

Contains Smut:

A/N: I could have kept going with this and yes it’s already long. But like- Chans the definition of this series ok? 😂

-💜

•He’s just in his element.

•If any of them have a daddy thing it’s 100% him.

•He treats you like a princess.

•Spoils the fuck out of you.

•Gets grumpy when you try and pay for anything because how dare you.

•He’s such a gentleman.

•You’ll never have to open your own doors.

•He enjoys taking long showers together and after

•He loves having you sit infront of him brushing your hair for you.

•Matching outfits, matching jewelry.

•He’s so easy to talk to too.

•If you’re having a bad day, you know you can just curl up with him and cry.

•He’s great at consoling you when anything happens.

•Holding you tightly to him as he reminds you about how amazing you are.

•He’s super clingy honestly.

•If you’re with him he’s always gotta be touching you in some way.

•Hand holding, Legs touching. Something.

•You keep him more grounded than you probably know.

•He finds almost anything you do super cute.

•Oh this man just gets all cheesy when you’re pouting. Finds it so fucking cute.

•Definitely doesn’t have a whole folder of songs for your birthday or anniversary.

•You’re literally like a fire to him and he’s the moth.

•It’s really hard to ever really really upset him.

•He’s pretty level headed.

•Most days if you’re being grumpy or cranky he’ll sit with you asking what’s the matter and how he can help.

•If you’re giving him attitude almost always he can make you stop with just that look.

•He has the habit of telling you way to sweetly “fix your attitude princess or I’ll have to fix it for you. Be good for daddy”

•He’s really to soft, but when he needs to be stern he does it in a way that still makes you feel so safe.

•He’s really just a safe space. You’ll never feel like your emotions are too much with him.

•He constantly will reassure you.

•He sends you such loving messages too, long paragraphs of why he loves you.

•Never not having a good morning or good night text. Even if you just got off the phone.

•It feels like taboo to him not too.

•He’s not a super jealous type, but he’s protective.

•He knows you love him so much, your eyes never leaving his.

•But how can he trust others when you’re just so cute.

•He’ll hover over you when you’re out sometimes. Like he’s waiting. Ready to attack anyone who dares upset him princess.

•Constantly hugs yous tightly burring himself into you saying “mine” cutely.

•He’s really just wrapped around your finger and he’s fine with that.

ੈ♡˳Smut Below

•He has almost 2 personality’s.

•The super sweet loving one where he wants to take it so slow.

•He’ll eat you out for hours making sure you cum before you even fuck.

•He talks so much. He talks you through it 100%.

•He makes just as much noises as you do tbh.

•He’s a missionary lover for sure.

•Always wanting to see your pretty face. Plus how else is he gonna kiss you?

•He’s just so sensual and passionate.

•Other times he- can just lose himself.

•Stressful day? He’s having you on your knees while he face fucks you.

•He’s definitely into free use with you especially waking you up with head or his dick just slowly pushing into you.

•All with complete consent. He’ll never do anything without asking you prier and establishing boundaries.

•Has a safe word and does the color system.

•He can get ahead of himself sometimes. Losing it with you.

•Pushing your face into the bed fucking you like he hates you.

•Those beautiful hands of his leaving bright red hand prints on your ass.

•Or wrapped around your neck like a choker. He also really enjoys having you suck his fingers.

•Breeding kink. Breeding kink. Breeding kink.

•He’s also somehow so good at degrading you while making it sound so- sweet?

•”My dirty little princess, you’re soaked just from kissing?”

•He has one of those machines that can fuck you while he’s not home. And of course a custom made dildo that is a mold of his cock.

•Loves FaceTiming you while on tour guiding you through your orgasm.

•Always teases you and doesn’t let you cum at first. Not until you’re begging well enough.

•This man is also team remote vibe.

•He just thinks it’s so damn adorable watching you squirm while you’re out.

•He’s not much better though. He can’t keep his hands to himself.

•Could be having dinner out and he’s gonna be knuckles deep into your sopping hole till he can’t handle it.

•100%. Fucks you infront of mirrors. Not only so you can watch how well he fucks you.

•But so he can tell you things like “look how beautiful you are when you’re cumming around my cock”

•Like I said he’s definitely a talker so something’s he says are:

•”Daddy’s gonna fill you so full princess. I’m gonna fuck you till I know you’re pregnant.”

•”Don’t you run from me, I’m not done with you yet”

•”God it’s like you were made to take my cock princess.”

•”Daddy loves you, love you so fucking much.”

•And one of his favorites “you say you can’t take it anymore but you’re pretty hole is telling me she wants more”

•King of aftercare.

•On days he goes a little harder he’s making sure you know he loves you.

•He has you wrapped in his arms while he talks to you.

•Likes to sing to you to calm you down from intense orgasms.

•Warm baths with candles, and snacks.

•Kinda like Minho he puts one of his hoodies in the dryer for you.

•Making sure it smells like him before he wraps you in the warmth.

•You’re basically trapped for a while because he just wants to hold you.

•He really loves you and he wants to make sure you always know that.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget @0omillo0 @jellymochii @stilltrynafuckingtumble @catlove83 @delulkpopstan143 @hyunjins-orange-slice-too

[cosmic-evening]

ᯓ★ in love with my future

hawks x gn!reader

based on my future by billie eilish

a/n: request from the lovely @bluebouquetharmony! i accidentally deleted your request and idk how to get it back im so sorry 😭 but thank you so much for it!! i hope this does u justice

hawks can't seem to focus.

ever since he was six, he'd been training under the hero public safety commission. he can't remember a lot of it, opting to just go through the motions every day. he's never felt the need to talk to anyone other than his mentors. sure, a lot of people his age were training alongside him, but the commission always told him not to waste his time.

"you're going to be the best, hawks. don't you want to be like endeavor? he never wasted his time with useless extras."

so hawks never did.

until you.

you started at the commission quite a bit older than the usual kids. when you walked in, he found himself staring. he felt the sudden urge to talk to you. to be your friend.

he'd never felt like this before. struggling to push the feeling down, he hurriedly looks away before you catch him staring.

a week into your training, hawks breaks his resolve.

he walks up to you during lunch one day.

"hi, i'm hawks. mind if i sit here?"

you look up, surprised that hawks, who you always found to be cold and intimidating, had talked to you.

"hey, i'm l/n. and sure, you can sit." you move over, giving him some room.

you're a little confused. when you arrived, people had told you not to bother hawks. "he's dead serious about this," they said. "he wants to be the next endeavor or something."

but really, you think, as hawks eats his sandwich, some of the sauce lingering on the corners of his lips, he's not all that bad.

slowly, but surely, you become hawks' best friend. you spend every breaktime together. you train together, something hawks previously never did with anyone else other than his mentor. he tutors you, you make sure he eats every day.

no one understands how you did it. the commission is not happy you provided a distraction in hawks' life.

months go by, and the two of you become a little more than friends. you both agreed to keep it a secret: the commission was not happy as it was. but the two of you were skilled in stealth training. it was easy to slip the commission's notice.

it's after a long day of training, and you're tangled in hawks' bedsheets together, when he says it.

"i love you, y/n."

it's decisive. like he's sure, that he's waited a long time to say this.

you smile softly.

"i love you too, hawks."

he breaks out in a smile too, then holds your hand in his own.

"please," he whispers, "call me keigo."

there's a wobble in his voice. you knew that the commission had told him not to tell anyone his real name. mentally, you pocket this information in your head.

"i love you too, keigo."

your relationship lasts two months. it turns out that your stealth training needed some work.

all good things come to an end, you think, as the hero public safety commissioner drags you away from keigo's room.

the two of you had just been in bed, about to go to sleep, when two security guards had barged in and dragged you away.

you'd been found out.

your terrified stare meets keigo's.

if you hadn't let your guard down, would things be different? if you hadn't snuck your way into keigo's room so often, would they have ever found out?

you keep your eyes trained on keigo's heartbroken expression, trying not to wince at the security guard's fingers digging into your shoulder. the commissioner has her cold glare fixed on you, her arms barely restraining keigo from running to you.

"sorry," she sneers, as you get dragged out of the building. "he should be in love with his future, not you."

[ostrichlady]

I've watched season 2 of arcane many times now, and that last scene of Viktor and Jayce never fails to amaze me. Once you know exactly what's going to happen after a few rewatches, you start noticing little clues and symbolism across the show which make the scene so much more delightful but that's not even what makes me feel so impacted at the end of it. With all the sincerity I hold in me, this is one of the most beautiful and purest depictions of love I've ever seen.

The scene sequence works so well. It's perfect. It's raw and tender and caring. Overflowing with all the abstraction of what love is.

The artistry is breathtaking. The colours of a ruined world contrasting with the lively shades of flowers against Jayce's stone figure. The clean blue from the sky, the polished and ancient figure of mage Viktor against the rough edges and vibrancy of defender Jayce.

The celestial colours of their bodies detached from any materialistic accessories, Jayce's face being so much warmer in contrast with Viktor's much paler complexion. The gold from the different souls, the thin strands of consciousness gathering at one moment. Galaxy in its most humane form if that's even possible.

Everything is beautifully harmonized to fulfill one goal, which is to frame the connection of Jayce and Viktor.

I can't get enough of looking at Jayce's face throughout this whole scene. His eyes speak for his heart louder than anyone could comprehend. Understandment, care, longing, affection. A need and a want to let Viktor have his love. He's telling Viktor that he's there and he won't leave again, wherever Viktor goes, he will too. And Jayce knows Viktor isn't like him. Viktor won't simply take love and gulp it down.

No, Jayce understands that he has to do it slowly, wrapped in tenderness but full of determination. It stands out to me just how, when reaching for Viktor's shoulder, Jayce's hand hoovers for a little bit before grabbing it. He's giving time to Viktor, but he's also assuring that he's there. For him. With him.

Viktor is confused, is scared, his eyes are desperately looking at what he has done, and what it could've become, how could it be that he had been so wrong? And why was Jayce talking to him about wanting his partner back when Viktor himself doesn't know if he could be anything remotely similar after everything? Why was this man overflowing with so much affection when Viktor was, until a few seconds ago, trying to get rid of it all? Viktor gets taken down from this polished, higher power mindset and is thrown right at the core of human emotions, barely able to hang on to it.

But it's okay because Jayce will hold Viktor until he can stand for himself. 

Jayce tells him it's okay. He does it by looking at him dearly. By holding his open hand carefully. By placing the gem in it securely. No matter what happens, it is okay. 

The gem is reactive and powerful and holds so much to it. Their lives, their projects, their dreams. Magic in raw form, full capacity.

When both of their hands are placed on what started everything, they both look at each other one final time. This is it. They know what's about to happen. But it's okay. It really is. Because there's nothing else they can do to fight their destiny this time. Because there's really no point fighting this time.

Jayce pulls Viktor, a call for him. I'm here. 

And Viktor responds to his call. I know.

They are together.  They've always been together, their connection preserved into a small gem stone. Into so many others, across so many other possibilities and timelines. Whether it failed or not, it has always been there. Raw and sincere.

This time, despite the circumstances, it did work. Not everything is perfect, but it doesn't have to be. That's the beauty of it all, as Jayce said himself. The world will keep moving even after they're gone. Broken as always, but never stopping.

Theirs souls are intertwined across what we call time and space. If forever has an ending, then it will be rewritten. Their love is bigger than any terms we might choose to describe it. Their bond is far greater than any anomaly or magic blast.

They're safe, embraced by the deepness and vastness of the universe. Nothing will separate them. It started with them and it finished with them. Always them, only them. Together as partners.

[zeroseuniverse]

Even Pillars Fall

Word Count: 1.4K Summary: “You’re... not afraid of me?” Mingi asked quietly. She glanced up, their expression softening. “No, Mingi. I’m not. I see a man who gives everything he has to protect the people around him. That doesn’t scare me—it inspires me.” Pairing: Mingi X Fem Reader

Disclaimer: Please be aware that this is apart of the from the ashes series. This series will have aspects of violence, weapons, angst, blood, injuries, killing, and will heavily focus on oppression and segregation of mutants, Look after your mental state if any of these make you uncomfortable please.

Series Masterlist

The room was filled with the sharp, acrid smell of disinfectants and the faint metallic tang of blood. Mingi’s massive frame lay across the makeshift cot, his breathing uneven as she worked tirelessly to stem the bleeding. The resistance didn’t have the luxury of proper medical facilities, just repurposed warehouses and scavenged supplies. Yet Her hands moved with precision, her focus unwavering despite the odds stacked against them.

Mingi groaned, his hand twitching as if to push her away. “I’m fine,” he rasped, though the tremor in his voice betrayed him. He didn’t want to be here—pinned down, powerless, and vulnerable.

“You’re not fine,” She shot back, her voice calm but firm. “You’re lucky you’re still breathing. Let me do my job.”

His defiance faltered under her unwavering gaze. Mingi prided himself on being the resistance’s pillar, the one who shouldered the burden of their most dangerous missions. Yet here he was, reduced to a man bleeding out on a cot, utterly dependent on someone else.

Her touch was surprisingly gentle for someone who had been dealing with life-or-death situations every day. She wasn’t  just treating his wounds; she was silently telling him he wasn’t alone, that his pain mattered.

“Why do you even bother?” Mingi muttered, more to himself than to her. “You’ve got a dozen other people to save.”

She didn’t pause, her hands steady as she stitched a deep gash along his side. “Because you’re worth it. And because I refuse to lose anyone if I can help it.”

The words struck something deep within Mingi. Worth it. It wasn’t a sentiment he heard often, not when most people saw him as a weapon rather than a man.

Silence stretched between them, filled only by the faint hum of machinery and the muted voices of resistance fighters outside the tent.

“You’re... not afraid of me?” Mingi asked quietly.

She glanced up, their expression softening. “No, Mingi. I’m not. I see a man who gives everything he has to protect the people around him. That doesn’t scare me—it inspires me.”

The warmth in her voice disarmed him, more than any wound ever could. For the first time in a long while, Mingi felt seen—not as a mutant or a fighter, but as someone who mattered.

As she finished bandaging him, she placed a reassuring hand on his arm. “You don’t have to carry everything alone, you know. Let someone else be strong for you, just for a little while.”

Mingi’s throat tightened. The weight he carried felt lighter, if only for a moment, under her words.

Mingi watched her for a moment, her hands now busy cleaning up the bloodied tools on the nearby table. Her movements were deliberate, practiced, but he couldn’t help noticing the way her brow furrowed in concentration, or how the faint glow of the overhead light caught in her hair.

“You don’t have to stay,” Mingi said, his voice quieter this time. “I’ll be fine now.”

She turned, meeting his gaze with a mixture of exasperation and amusement. “Is that your way of trying to get rid of me?”

He smirked faintly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I just... i don't want you to waste your time.”

“That’s not your call to make,” she replied firmly, stepping closer. Her tone softened, a playful edge slipping in. “Besides, I’d hardly call saving your life a waste of time.”

The closeness made him hyperaware of everything—the warmth of her body, the steady rhythm of her breath, the way her eyes lingered just a fraction longer than necessary.

“You’ve got a habit of being stubborn,” Mingi murmured, his gaze locking with hers.

She chuckled, the sound light and unguarded. “And you’ve got a habit of pretending you don’t need anyone.”

For a moment, the world outside the tent seemed to fade away. Mingi’s usual bravado cracked under the intensity of the moment, leaving him exposed. His fingers twitched, resisting the urge to reach out, to let himself lean into the comfort she offered.

“Why do you do it?” he asked, his voice a shade rougher than he intended. “Put yourself through all this—patching us up, seeing the worst of it. You could have walked away a long time ago.”

She tilted her head, considering him carefully. “Because someone has to. And because I believe in what we’re fighting for.”

She paused, her gaze softening as it held his. “But you? You’re the reason we even have a chance. You might not see it, but you inspire people, Mingi. You remind us why we keep going.”

The words hit him harder than any blow he’d ever taken. He wanted to deflect, to downplay what she had said, but the conviction in her voice made it impossible.

“And what about you?” he asked, his tone quieter now. “Who reminds you to keep going?”

She hesitated, the faintest flicker of vulnerability crossing her face. “Sometimes... I remind myself. Other times, I find reasons in the people around me.”

Her gaze dropped briefly, as if debating something, before rising again to meet his. “You’ve been one of those reasons lately.”

The air between them grew taut, charged with unspoken emotions. Mingi swallowed, his heart pounding against his ribs. He wasn’t sure if it was the lingering adrenaline, the exhaustion, or something else entirely, but he found himself leaning forward, his voice dropping to a murmur.

“You’re a dangerous person, you know that?”

She arched a brow, her lips curving into a faint smile. “Oh? And why’s that?”

“Because,” he said, his gaze flicking down to her mouth for just a moment before meeting her eyes again, “you make it hard to remember where the fight ends and... something else begins.”

The words hung in the air, a quiet confession wrapped in layers of tension and uncertainty.

Her breath caught in her throat at the weight of Mingi's words. The intensity in his eyes was almost too much to bear, and for a split second, she forgot how to respond. She wanted to say something clever, something that would deflect, but instead, she simply stood there, heart pounding in sync with his.

Mingi's gaze softened, his usual bravado slipping away like a mask he no longer wanted to wear. He could see the hesitation in her eyes, the way she was struggling to keep the distance between them, even though every part of him—and perhaps her too—longed to close that gap.

"You should go," Mingi said, his voice hoarse, the words coming out softer than he intended. "Before I do something stupid."

She didn’t move immediately, her hand still resting gently on his arm as she studied him. There was something raw in Mingi's eyes, a vulnerability that spoke volumes more than words ever could. He was the strong one, the one everyone relied on, and yet here he was, asking for a little kindness, a little moment of care.

She shook her head slowly, her hand still lingering, almost as if she needed the contact as much as he did. "You don't get to tell me what to do, Mingi," she replied with a quiet but firm determination. "But I will tell you this—you don't have to be alone in this. Not now. Not ever."

The air between them seemed to pulse with the unsaid, the weight of their connection hanging heavy in the small tent. Mingi’s chest tightened, his heart threatening to betray him, and he let out a slow, shaky breath.

"I never wanted to be a burden," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "I don’t know how to be anything else."

Her eyes softened, and she moved closer, her hand finally slipping away from his arm as she crouched down beside him. She met his gaze, her voice steady but full of warmth. "You’re not a burden, Mingi. You’re a person—someone who needs others, just like everyone else. And that’s okay."

Mingi blinked, the words sinking into him in a way he hadn’t expected. He had spent so long pushing people away, thinking that if he kept everything buried deep enough, he could protect them from the danger that always seemed to follow him. But in this moment, surrounded by blood and chaos, her unwavering presence gave him something he hadn’t realized he needed—peace.

"Thank you," he said, his voice rough, not just from the wound but from the emotions he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in so long.

She smiled softly, her hand resting briefly on his shoulder before she stood up, looking down at him with a glint of something unreadable in her eyes. "You’re welcome. Now get some rest, okay? We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us."

As she  turned to leave, Mingi watched her go, the tightness in his chest loosening just a fraction. There was something about her—something that made him believe he might be able to carry on after all, not alone, but with someone by his side.

[is-on-its-way]

ripples

inspired by this wonderful story

Read on AO3

The first time he asked her to marry him he was joking… sort of. They’d been on a case buried two basement floors deep in the bowls of the NIH library in Bethesda. He was turning the big wheels to get a row open to check for a journal they were searching for, and she’d walked past him without glancing at him.

“Why are you looking in physiology…” mind control will be under psychological capacities in… philosophy.” She said almost absentmindedly as she cranked the handle on the end of the shelf ten feet away from him.

He’d felt the familiar jolt in his chest he’d gotten so used to, being around her. That rush of adrenaline when she took charge, or knew better than the men in the room, or knew better than him. Her brain was a wealth of information in topics he hardly understood, and he was forever thankful for her expertise. But when she revealed she knew about topics that interested him as well? It was electrifying. Literally- he could feel his brain short circuit, so, staring at her, smirk on his face, it had just tumbled out of his mouth before his good sense managed to catch up.

She’d looked at him like he was insane, not an unfamiliar look even then. Hands on hips in the florescent light with the beige walls and grey rug and white endless stacks, a divinity standing in front of him when anyone else in her place would’ve seemed lesser for it. To his surprise she’d broken into a smile and then a giggle. He’d laughed with her savoring her rare joy in this private limbo among the stacks. Buttoned up as she had to be back then, practiced in long days working in mens fields, her laugh was dangerous, raw, uninhibited. Men didn’t know how to deal with that kind of power. So she hid herself most of the time. He knew it was second nature, from even before the FBI, from years in a cutthroat hospital culture and med school, she’d graduated summa cum laude. She was destined for men to be jealous and angry at her for daring to be who she was from the beginning. 

He thought it was sexy, even sexier how she gave herself up to him in tiny fits and starts over the years. He waited for each moment, feeling like a kid running down the stairs on christmas every time it happened. After that there’d been no opportunity to do it again. There had been no right moment after she’d been taken, to joke lightheartedly about such things, or remind her of the normalicy she might’ve had if not for him. For the x files. He’d tried to give her an out even, asked her to quit so she could feel like she wasn’t quitting on him or the mission, but she’d refused, even more resolute to find the truth now. He could’ve asked her again right on the spot if he had been more selfish.

If he was honest, if she’d said yes that first time, he thought he might’ve gone along with it, just for the mere fact someone like her, could want him. He would’ve been too terrified to fuck everything up then though, and probably would’ve messed it all up and hurt her more than she deserved.

The next time he asked her, he had never been more serious about anything in his life. He loved her, but it wasn’t really about that. It wasn't really about the fact he knew she loved him either.  It was the knowledge that before his life was done, he would make her his wife. It was just a fact, like how humans breathe air and fish water. Like how the sun rises in the morning and the moon only faces one way. It just was. He was hers and she was his and letting her leave this earth without declaring that, without letting her declare that to her god, was unthinkable. He should’ve felt insane. They had not even so much as been on an official date, but when you’re insane do you know it in the moment? 

She’d had tears in her eyes and panic in her voice, so strangled she could hardly breathe. He was on his knees at her bedside, chair kicked out as he realized the panic she had arrived at on the fifth day in her hospital bed hooked up to the poison that was saving her and killing her in front of his eyes. She let all her walls break then, let might’ve been putting it kindly. Her walls had been broken against her will and she was looking at him to save her. He wished with all his might he could but all he could do in that moment was hold her hand and wipe her tears and blink his away angrily at the audacity of his body to think this was about him. 

She told him things she’d never have said to him if she wasn’t feeling trapped like an animal against the end. Things he’d read in her diary entry to him. Things deeper than that. He’d told her he didn’t need to hear any of it, he knew already, she could leave him without worrying about him. 

“I’ll be okay Scully.” He rubbed his thumbs over the thin pale fingers in his hands. He pulled them to his cheek, head bowed over hers nose brushing the flyaways of her natural curls.

She looked at him wild eyed, on her side, pushing herself closer to him.

“What if I wont be? “ she whispered. “What if I…” 

A tinge of regret. He felt it in his own stomach before he saw it form in her eyes, but she went on “I wanted to be a wife.” her voice quivered, stopping before the rest of it. But he understood. She wanted a life, a husband, children, every normal thing you naively expect from life when yours hasn’t been stolen from you. She cried quietly into his chest as he wrapped his arms around her, inhaling the scent of her, committing it to memory, stroking her hair. Saying nothing because there was nothing to say.

He would’ve held her for hours if she’d needed, knees screaming, but when she pulled away, his heart shattered at the look in her amber ringed, warm sea, eyes. He couldn’t let her regret, couldn’t let her feel shame for opening up to him when their affection for each other had never before been debased by the simplicity of words.

So he said words back. Threw a stone into the still waves of the spacetime realm they alone inhabited now that the damn was open. He offered the only thing he could in that long list of regrets she would leave with. 

“We could get married.” A hand brushed down her cheek, her face blurry as he blinked furiously. “Marry me Dana.” Voice between a whisper and speech, between pleading for her soul and offering his. 

Her answer then was also no. Dragging herself back to reality, she politely pretended he was joking. And he politely smiled along with her. It was easy to play along with her, easy to ignore his shattering heart. He would do anything for her. Port in her chest, eyes the color of fresh bruises, sinking deeper into her hospital bed every moment of every hour, holding his hand at his insistence despite her chemo induced clamminess. The look in her eyes though, the sorrow, haunted him every time he closed his eyes until she was cured, and then occasionally after.

So polite to pretend he’d been joking… 

After she was cured, to stymy the sour feeling in his stomach every time his mind brought him back there; her sweetest little ‘Thank you, but we shouldn’t. I can’t break your heart any more than I already have and you’re breaking mine…”; he made a habit of asking her to marry him. Dilution of that moment was his tactic. Rewriting the honesty into lighthearted jokes so as to calm the waters in their little world.

Mostly he was joking. Mostly he was pretending to joke. Mostly he wanted her to say yes. One day, he would ask, and she would make a ripple.

🦋🌀🦕🔹🐋 @today-in-fic

[cha-melodius]

30 for zahra/shaan for the hug prompts if it sparks joy <3

(Thank you for sending this one, I've never really written Zahra/Shaan from either of their POVs and it was a lot of fun. Not to mention this hug prompt was perfect for them. read all the hug ficlets)

30: The reluctant hug from someone who isn’t exactly a fan of physical affection. 

The first time they see each other in person after the email leaks is when Henry goes to DC for Alex’s speech.

Usually, in a situation like this where they’re only interacting for work, neither of them would even think about letting any part of their relationship slip through. All the looks, all the touches, even a hint of personal conversation—that stuff is only let out when they’re off the clock. They’ve crammed a lot into two-day holidays over the last half a year, and even with what little pieces they get of each other, it’s worth it.

Today is different, though. He can see the toll that the leaks and their aftermath have taken on Zahra. Not just because of the political impact, though of course that is her job to deal with, but the personal one too. Zahra cares deeply about Alex, more than she’d ever admit to anyone. Shaan can tell, though. Could tell when he first heard the minute hitch in her breath over the telephone line. She feels responsible, just as he does. They couldn’t protect their charges, no matter how hard they tried.

Now, she’s running around as usual, barely sparing him a glance as she barks out schedules and timing. They’ve landed no more than a half an hour before Alex is due to speak, and it’s a mad rush, even when Alex and Henry disappear for ten minutes, no doubt to do things Shaan would rather not think about. It’s not until later that evening—they’re staying overnight, something he’d quietly insisted upon when they’d made these plans—that Shaan manages to actually catch her.

“Did you need something?” she asks brusquely. He knows better than to take it personally.

“Yes,” he tells her, equally business-like. “Can I speak with you privately for a moment?”

Her eyes flash like she knows what he’s up to. She probably does. Normally, he’d never attempt to request a private moment, even now when most of the White House has retired for the night, but there’s nothing about this situation that’s normal. For a moment he thinks she’s going to refuse, but then she gives a short nod and leads him through a random doorway.

“Ok, Srivastava, what is it? I don’t really have time—” she starts immediately, which is a lie because he personally heard Ellen Claremont say she didn’t need anything else from Zahra tonight.

“Zahra,” he interrupts softly, putting hand over one of hers.

She doesn’t pull away, which is a good sign. Or maybe a bad one. When she looks up at him, the conflict is plain on her face. “We can’t—” she starts. Stops and licks her lips, her lipstick still flawless this late at night. “Not here.”

“I know,” he reassures her. “I’m not asking for much. Just a hug.” She narrows her eyes at him, and Shaan lets his expression soften. “You’d be doing me a favor.”

Even in the moments when they can truly be alone together, Zahra isn’t much of a hugger. She won’t even initiate one on those rare occasions where she wants to be held, so Shaan has learned to detect such circumstances and then ask for one for himself. She always gives a little huff, like it’s a chore, though if she didn’t want to she’d just tell him no and walk away. Then she will reluctantly let herself be drawn into his arms, and only when her face is hidden against his neck will she allow her shoulders to relax. She’ll take a deep breath, her arms tightening around his waist, and he’ll hold her for however long she allows.

Today, Zahra needs a hug, and Shaan will do whatever he must to give it to her. It helps that it’s not a lie—Shaan really could use a hug himself, after everything.

He has to keep himself from smiling when she rolls her eyes and lets out her usual huff. The rest follows as he’s become accustomed to, though she holds him tighter and longer than he was expecting. Then she shocks him by murmuring, “I love you,” into the collar of his shirt. “Thank fuck you’re here.”

“I’m here, my love,” he breathes as he smooths a hand over her hair. “I’m here.”

[lizziesloopy]

NSFW ALPHABET W DARYL DIXON

A - Aftercare: I don’t care what anyone else says, Daryl is the master of aftercare. He’s always worried about you, so he always insists u rest and take a minute after u two do anything, and gets a warm washcloth or tissue to clean you up, and or water. If you’re the type to get tired after sex, he sleeps with you, lets u sleep on his chest while playing with your hair.

B - Body Part: He likes all of you equally, but he’s a sucker for your breasts and hips. I will DIE on this hill. Daryl has a thing for hips, holding them while he’s fucking you, keeping them down while he’s eating you out, brushing his thumb along them while kissing you.

C - Cum: Daryl has a breeding kink. He’s already generally protective of the people he cares about, especially you, and that doesn’t change in the bedroom. The idea of filling you up, cumming inside you, thats what does it for him.

D - Dirty Secret: Daryl is a pretty reserved guy, so I don’t think he’d ever admit to any kind of dirty secret unless you asked first. But, he secretly really likes the idea of you riding his face, and really likes the scent of you.

E - Expirience: The only expirience Daryl has is from before the apocalypse, and even then it was never all that good. He was usually intoxicated when he had the occasional one night stand, most of his sexual knowledge coming from Merle. But once he’s with you, he’s very eager to please you, whether he knows what he’s doing, he WILL make it his mission to learn.

F - Favorite Position: Contrary to popular belief, I think Daryl is a pretty vanilla guy. He mostly enjoys missionary, he likes to be able to see your face, and hold you close. He also likes spooning, it feels much more intimate, and it’s usually a go to for sleepy sex. He also never complains when you want to ride him because god does he love it. But I don’t think he’d like to bend you over something or do doggy style, he feels it’s too degrading or disrespectful.

G - Goofy: Things stay pretty passionate and serious between you too when being intamite. But, when something is akward and happens to be funny, a little laugh here and there isn’t unusual, especially in the beginning.

H - Hair: I mean, it’s an apocalypse, I don’t think people are all too focused on how well groomed thier bits are. Despite that, he doesn’t let it get crazy, keeps it tame, very clean. He doesn’t like the feeling of being unkempt down there, it’s uncomfortable. As for you, who could give two shits bush or bald, as long as he can get in there, he’s a happy man. And if he’s being honest, he’s likes when you have a little more hair because he likes the scent of you.

I - Intimacy: Daryl is extremely intimate nobody is changing my mind. I don’t understand how yall think this man would fuck you like an animal against a tree, absolutely not. He’s very private about your sex life and plans to keep it that way. He’s quiet overall, but that doesn’t stop him from absolutely ravishing you. He likes being as humanly close to you as possible, whether that be spooning you, reverse cowgirl, pulling you impossibly close to him in missionary, anything.

J - Jack Off: Daryl isn’t much of a masturbater. Never has been. He doesn’t have the highest sex drive, and when he does, he has you. He’d rather have you than his hand, always.

K - Kink: Like I said, he’s pretty vanilla, but not to say he doesn’t enjoy a thing or two. He 100% has an oral fixation, going down on you or you going down on him, obsessed with it. He also likes pulling your hair every now and then, but never too hard.

L - Location: Only the bed. Yall are crazy for sayin ‘over a table’ ‘in the middle of the woods’ like what the FUCK are you on 😭. He’s a very private man, who prioritizes your comfort over anything else, therefore, the bed.

M - Motivation: I mentioned how he wouldn’t have a very high sex drive, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t get turned on by you. If you’re in the mood, that’s his motivation. But also, seeing you all sweaty or working hard, or when he’s teaching you how to use his crossbow, seeing you use it, that turns him on hella.

N - NO: There’s a lot of no’s for Daryl when it comes to intimacy for you. He would never hurt you in any way shape or form, that consists of spanking, slapping, hitting, restraining, choking, etc. IF you asked him to choke you he’d be ok with doing it very lightly, but still worried. He’s not ok with risky/public sex, degrading you, and certain kinks like mommy/daddy. I hate when ppl say he’d have that, he’d hate it.

O - Oral: ORAL FIXATIONNNNNNNNNNN!!! This man is a certified MUNCH. Bro feasts like it’s his last meal alive. He love love loves that he can make you feel that good, because he’s exceptionally good with using his tongue, and has learned all the ways you like it. He likes watching the way you loose control of yourself, your face and your body. He also loooves when you go down on him, but he never says that. He actually has an extremely hard time containing himself when you suck him off. He usually doesn’t last long. Seeing you on your knees, looking at him through your eyelashes with his cock in your mouth, it’s his wet dream.

P - Pace: Depends. Depends on the mood, how you wanted, how you both are feeling, if he’s stressed, if he’s relaxed. I mentioned earlier he likes being intimate, therefore I’d say most of the time he’s not too fast or hard, maybe when he’s getting close or knows you’re getting close though. But times when he’s stressed, or he can tell you are, he’s a bit more fast paced with it.

Q - Quickie: Nope. 100% absolutely not. He despises the idea of rushing sex. He needs to feel comfortable in a safe environment where he knows he has time and there is no danger.

R - Risk: No risks. He doesn’t take risks with places, kinkiness, or new stuff. Unless you specifically say you want to try something and he’s ok with it, or he thinks it something, than nah. The only thing I could think of is he loves cumming in you, so there would be the risk of pregnancy if you are fertile.

S - Stamina: Depends again. He can go for long if you can, but when he’s tired, one round is enough to put him on his ass. But, just solely pleasuring you alone, he could do that all day.

T - Toy: He is definetly not opposed to anything that makes you feel good. If he were to ever stumble upon something on a run, or some other way, he’d definetly grab it. Using something like a vibrator or a dildo on you is definitely something he’s very open too, but when it comes to him, he’d rather not use anything.

U - Unfair: There is lots of teasing in your relationship in general, but when it comes to sexual teasing yes, but very subtle, never things other people would notice. But when it comes down to actual sex, neither of you like to be kept waiting.

V - Volume: He’s mostly quiet like usual. Grunts mostly, especially when he’s cumming, he usually burries his face in your shoulder to muffle himself. He loves to hear how vocal you are though. I think he could be a bit of a whimperer when you give him head too.

W - Wild Card: He doesn’t mind when you’re on your period, he’s just extra cautious with the mess. Puts a towel down or does it in the shower.

X - X Ray: He’s pretty big, not too big, but above average. It’s mostly the girth, cuz damn. Your first time with him had to be slow and steady because YOWCH.

Y - Yearning: Well, I already said this before but he had a medium sex drive, not awfully high. But if you do, especially if you’re younger than him, he’s more than happy to get you off. Eating you out, fingering you, letting you ride his thigh, whatever you want.

Z - zzzz: He gets pretty eepy 😴 He doesn’t like quickies because he likes to have his time with you, specifically time to cuddle you and sleep afterwards. Which is why he mostly prefer sex before bed/at night.

Hope you guys liked it!! My first time writing something like this, lmk how you like it and if I should do a SFW one.

[ahotmesswithprivilege]

Ocean Eyes

paring: Bob Floyd x female!bartender!reader

wordcount: 2642 (scandalously short for me, I know)

prompt: “It’s like you never really see me. I’m standing right in front of you and you don’t see me!” requested by @gretagerwigsmuse (I am sorry this took so long. I hope it was worth the wait)

note: I couldn't write so I started cleaning up my WIP folder and I found this. I forgot that it was practically done and so I thought, let's share my Bob debut with the world. I hope you'll enjoy it.

Trigger Warning(If I forgot something or you want me to add to the list, my inbox is wide open. You are responsible for your media consumption, so proceed with caution, you know the drill): none, I think. Unless you consider canon Hangster one. Also idiots in love.

|| Masterlist ||

divider by @sweetmelodygraphics banner by @firefly-graphics

Reblogs, comments and constructive criticism are always welcome

!!!Minors do not interact; empty/ageless/minors will get blocked!!!

You love Bob Floyd. It’s pretty obvious to anyone who has eyes. At least that’s what you always hear from your best friend and yet he showed never any interest in you at all. There is a part of you that realises that this could only mean one thing but acknowledging the hard truth would hurt more than anything. So you ignore it and keep living in the blissful illusion that maybe one day Lieutenant Robert Floyd will wake up and finally see you.

That is until tonight when that hope should be shattered for good. The night at the Hard Deck when you are dealt the final blow.

“Is that Baby on Board in that booth? Flirting with a woman?”, Hangman is leaning against the bar waiting for you to get a fresh round of drinks ready. The question is directed at Rooster to his right and your gaze follows his and you see Bob sitting in a booth with an absolutely gorgeous redhead.

“Yeah. Phoenix set him up with her old college friend”, Rooster answers, giving you that kind of cautious look that he always sent your way whenever he thought you were in a fragile state and could implode any second. And as if to justify his worries you slam their beers down a little harder than intended and when your gaze meets his, all you see is pity in his pretty brown eyes.

“Rooster”, your voice is barely there, more a growl rumbling in your chest than anything else. It's a warning for your best friend to keep his fucking mouth shut and leave you be.

Not that it would help.

It's something you both love and hate about Bradley Bradshaw. He was not someone who gave up on people. No, he stayed even when shit got hard and you knew he'd be right there by your side through it all, holding your hand and keeping you close because that's just who he is.

And considering the look you get from his worse half, you know the same is true for him. The irony that fucking Jake Seresin would one day be one of your best friends was not lost on you. Especially considering how the two of you started off, but having Hangman cover your back was apparently a perk that came with being Rooster's best friend.

"Don't"

But Brad just lifts his hands in surrender and then they head over to the pool tables where the others are already waiting for them, leaving you behind the bar with the feeling that the shards of your shattered heart were just digging deeper into your flesh with every breath.

“Hey, sunshine”, your head snaps to the side and there you see him sitting at the end of the bar smiling at you the way he always did. The way that made your heart skip a beat and you hated that fucking traitor of an organ. And then your brain intercepts and reminds you of the images of last night. The way she had her hands all over him, turning him into a blushing mess as they stumbled out of the bar.

You have to shake your head or you'd lose focus and you cannot afford that. Not on a Saturday night.

It's not like you need to wait for him to order something, you know it all by heart, so you set his usual virgin drink in front of him and put some nuts in a bowl. Both containers are hitting the bartop a tad bit harder than necessary and before he could get another word in you were already gone.

Your behaviour took him off guard. His eyes are still following you when you already busied yourself with the order of another patron at the other end of the bar as if you wanted to get as much space between you and him as you physically could and he couldn't help the unsettling feeling that crept up on him.

This was so not you. There's a reason why they call you sunshine and that's not just because Rooster introduced you like that. You were always sweet and kind and won over the position of the patron’s favourite from Penny within the first week. You always had a lovely smile on your lips and a nice comment for everyone.

But the thing he had always liked most about you was how protective you were, looking out for the people around you. You were just the kind of person who truly cared and didn't just turn it into a performance.

The longer you are lingering on the other end of the bar without giving him even as much of a glace the more uneasy he becomes ultimately deciding to pick up his things and make his way over to the quiet corner by the pool tables that had been dubbed his even back during his Top Gun time. And from over there he has the perfect view of the bar without the hustle and bustle that would only distract from his actual mission. Figure out what was wrong with you.

You seemed tense and your interactions were colder than usual even with people that he knew you loved to bits.

Dave, one of the veterans who frequented the bar had made it a habit to propose to you whenever he saw you. It was a running gag between the two of you but even he couldn't bring an honest smile to your face.

That sure as hell was a first.

Maybe something happened?

Had someone hurt you?

Or did something happen with your family?

The best way to find out was to talk to Rooster.

He was your best friend after all and if someone knew what was going on, then it would be him.

So, Bob waited patiently until he took a break from the pool game before approaching him.

“Is something wrong with sunshine?”

Rooster arches his brow at the question, stops drinking mid-swig and puts his bottle back down.

“What should be wrong with her?”

Bob tilts his head while he studies the other's features.

He couldn't be serious about that question. Rooster always claimed to know you best of them all and he honest-to-goodness wanted to tell Bob he didn't see what was going on.

“She’s curt and tense. She didn’t even smile at Dave's proposal”

Rooster’s brow arched even more.

God for someone as observant as Robert fucking Floyd he was pretty goddamn blind when it came to you.

“Even if there was something it wouldn't be my story to tell”, he raises his bottle back up and takes a sip of his beer, watching Bob’s mind running  100 miles an hour while he tried to figure out how to proceed.

“If you wanna know what’s going on there is a simple solution”, he prompts him. He had sworn to keep his mouth shut about your feelings for Bob but helping him figure it out on his own was not breaking that promise.

At least not in his book.

“And that would be?”

“Fucking ask her, Baby on board”

Jake groaned over from the pool table and rolled his eyes.

He was so done with this kindergarten bullshit. Watching you and Bob was worse than his dance with Rooster pre-uranium mission and he knew they had been unbearable to watch.

His boyfriend shoots Hangman an angry look as if to remind him of their promise but he just rolls his eyes and sighs.

Hangman likes you, a lot. Some might even go so far as to say he loves you. Very much platonic but it's love nonetheless.

You were a major part of Rooster’s life and therefore you became a fixture in his and if he had to listen to you crying yourself to sleep one more goddamn night over fucking Baby on Board then he’d be the one going on a bloody rampage.

So Jake stalked over to Bob and stared him right in his blue eyes, his green gaze cutting like a knife.

“That wasn’t a suggestion Floyd”, he growled, nodding over to where you handed out drinks at the bar, doing everything within your power to not look their way.

Bob had no idea why the other ganged up on him like that but he couldn’t remember the last time Hangman had been this mad. With his gaze flittering between the two men and you at the bar he decided it was indeed probably smartest to talk to you as soon as possible.

“Can you please get a box of whiskey from storage?”, you barely hear Penny’s voice over the constant chatter of the bar and the music coming from the jukebox when she hands you the key.

You had tried to keep your brain busy all night and lucky for you, the Saturday had provided you with enough to do to grant yourself a small reprieve from the pain that had settled in what was left of your heart after last night.

You nod at Penny and weave through the crowd in front of the bar, attempting to smile at the patrons that greeted you but you knew that this was just a facade and considering the many concerned looks, they knew too.

When you finally got to unlock the door of the storage closet stepping inside and pulling the door closed behind you as you were heaving a sigh the muffled sounds of the bar were still echoing in your ear. You loved this place and the Hard Deck had always felt more like home than the house you shared with Rooster and Hangman. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. The air was stuffy and full of dust but it was the closest to a break you could get just about now.

That was until the sudden creaking of the door made your heart rate pick up.

"This is for staff only", your eyes are wandering around to find something to use as a makeshift weapon just in case one of the guys got so drunk he forgot his manners and basic human decency. You find a large vodka bottle, pick it up from the shelf as you turn around, almost dropping it when you are met with blue eyes.

"Fuck Bob, you scared me", you place your free hand over your heart, putting the Vodka bottle on a small table.

"I'm sorry, sunshine", your eyes wander over him and it's only then that you see how he's not really daring to look into your eyes and he's fidgeting with his hands.

"What are you doing back here Bob?", you are crossing your arms over your chest and take another step back from him, almost making you hit the shelves full of liquor behind you.

He had never seen you so distanced and borderline standoffish around any of the daggers. You were someone who needed to be close, someone who thrived on touch and physical forms of affection, but you were fleeing from him and he couldn't have imagined something as simple as a step back to hurt that bad.

"I... I was wondering...", he started and then you were the third person today looking at him with an arched eyebrow and he felt like a first grader who's supposed to take his SAT.

"What were you wondering?", you said, the tense edge still audible in your voice sent a shiver down his spine.

Bob had never met this cold version of you and he hated every second of it. He loved your warmth, the way you were lighting up even the darkest room. You were the embodiment of a sweet summer day, full of sunshine and blooming flowers with enough of a breeze to make it perfect but right now you rivalled the worst arctic winter.

"Why are you so cold with everyone?"

"I am not"

"Of course you are. You didn't even smile at Dave's proposal", he sees the way your eyes get wider for only a moment before you put that facade back in place. So the real you was hiding somewhere behind that mask you put on.

"Yes I did"

"No, you didn't. Not for real"

The fact he had actually noticed took you by surprise, but the dull ache in your chest reminded you that just because he happened to notice one thing today it didn't mean that anything changed.

The silence hanging between the two of you was deafening and the longer it lasted the more nervous Bob got.

You two had never had an issue with talking. You were probably the one person he always felt like he could talk to even if he didn't feel like interacting with anyone else. But now it felt like you were two ships in the night, drifting farther and farther away apart.

"Please. I just want to...", his voice sounds pleading and the way he reaches his hand out for you prompts you to take another step back. You cannot handle his touch, that much you know but in your desperate attempt to keep the tears from running down your cheeks you forget that you have a mouth too.

“It’s like you never really see me", the words are spilling from your lips before you even realise it, hands flying to your mouth to stop yourself. The tears that were pricking at your lashline before began to run down your cheek when you see the way his eyes widen mouth opening and closing a few times before he finally finds his voice again.

"There hasn't been a single day when I didn't"

You force your eyes shut to stop the tears from running, shaking your head as you hear him take step after step closer into your space and crowd you against the shelves.

"I don't think I couldn't"

"Then why does it feel like I’m standing right in front of you. and you don’t see me?”, your voice is small and quiet, almost drowned out by the muffled sounds from the bar but once they sink in, Bob's eyes are darting all over your face, trying to figure out what you truly meant.

You open your eyes, tears still glittering as you look up at him. He sees so many emotions swirl in them ranging from pain and fear to something softer. Something he never dared to dream of finding in your eyes when you looked at him. And then he caught your eyes wandering from his to his lips and back up.

It was not much more than a flicker, something easily missed if he had blinked at the wrong moment.

"I always see you, sunshine", his voice is soft as he takes another step closer and leans down, slow and cautious as if he's trying to gauge if he had gotten what you implied right, but you stayed frozen in your place, closing your eyes again until you feel his nose brushing against yours and your foreheads touching.

"And what about last night?", you feel like you are caught up in a dream, fearing the moment your alarm would go off and you'd have to get up and back to a reality where Bob dated someone else and you were damned to only stand there and watch.

"Jolene is nice but all she's ever seen is the uniform and the glasses. She never bothered to really look at me. She didn't see me", he lifts his hands and rests them on your cheeks, thumbs gently caressing your skin as his eyes search yours for any sign that you do not want this.

"Not the way you did when we first met", you feel like you are getting lost in the endless blue of his ocean eyes, warm breath fanning over your face as you lean in to kiss him.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated as always

If you want to read more you can find my masterlist here

[whentherewerebicycles]

my baby is eight months old and every month of his wonderful little life has been better and more joyful than the last (which is saying something, because every month has been so good). he is still very Baby but he is also suddenly blossoming into a little kid before my eyes and it’s so much to handle 😭 he has always been an expressive talker but these days he has the most delightfully animated little conversations with himself, full of complex baby feelings like surprise and delight and shock and glee and of course spluttering indignation (you would not BELIEVE the wrongs done to angelic little babies these days! they have to take naps in their CRIBS!!). he laughs and gasps and hoots and fake coughs, and then he looks at you with a sly little expression to see if you think he’s funny. he is silliest with me by far (he still gets a bit shy and reserved around new people) but he also absolutely adores Liz & A and his nanny and breaks into the most bashful gummy little grin as soon as they walk into a room. he is still bald as an egg but NOT FOR LONG, as he wakes up every morning with more dark fuzz on his big round noggin. this month he learned to sit up and now he wants to be sitting up playing with his toys all the time (he is over the moon to have discovered a mother-approved alternative to accursed tummy time). he has developed strong preferences for certain toys along with the motor skills to select the objects he wants, and he is quite discerning—last week’s toys are so last week and he gets an impatient expression on his face if you try to entice him with formerly beloved objects that are just like sooooo over, mom, pleaseee don’t embarrass him in front of his friends (the dogs). speaking of the dogs it is his most cherished desire to pat them but they give him a wide berth except for the occasional facewash sneak attack. he spends a lot of time bouncing up and down in his seat reaching longingly for them while they ignore him completely. he has the chonkiest most solid little baby feet you have ever seen in your life and little fat bow legs that curve down to his chonky little feet and perfect fat little baby hands that he loves to slam repeatedly against his tray or his mat or your face. he has one little razor-sharp sliver of a front bottom tooth and I genuinely CANNOT handle it, it is just too much, he gives you his square little gummy smile and then you see the TOOTH and you’re like that’s it, I’m dead, this killed me. he had perfectly shaped little orecchiette ears when he was born and I am delighted to report that they remain absolutely perfect and when you nibble on them he acts like you’re tickling him and does his little turtle-in-a-shell teeheehee reaction. I would say that his basic temperament is the same but perhaps tends more towards a happiness default than the reserved watchfulness of previous months. he is still quite watchful—in all the daycare videos I get he is sitting with the big kids observing them play with a totally focused expression—but he is also delightfully silly and laughs a lot, especially at home. if he’s not hungry and has napped reasonably well, he is easygoing, adaptable, and game for pretty much whatever. he is such a good sleeper I can’t tell anyone in my offline life about it except liz whose baby is also a unicorn sleeper… but honestly I think that’s probably the root of his default good mood (if I slept 12 hours a night I’d also be the best possible version of myself). let’s see what else… idk this month has just been so fun. he’s just a little person now and I genuinely enjoy hanging out with him. I just think he rocks.

his favorite toy in this exact moment: his stacking cups, especially when you put a plastic ball inside of them for him to tip out onto the floor. his most beloved object: his squishmallow, of course, which sends him into transports of delight when he sees it. his favorite food: with the exception of arugula this child has never met a food he didn’t like. he LIVES to EAT. words his daycare teacher most frequently uses to describe him: “Owen is SOOOO hungry!!!” other favorite activities this month: kicking in the bath or in the pool, watching trees go by on car rides, slamming his hands as hard as he can against his high chair tray, watching the dogs wrestle, being swung slowly back and forth like the pendulum in a giant clock, gazing at his beautiful reflection in the mirror, kissing his beautiful reflection in the mirror, having mom make his squish swoop down from high above to CHOMP him, chewing on the edges of plastic bins, and scritch-scratching the rock wall outside of our house. he’s perfect. my beloved little kiddo.

[injestedsoap]

Taking The 141 to Build A Bear

Gaz was actually the one who planned it, there was a new wave of characters coming out and he had kept an eye on your local store to make sure they would have the ones you both wanted. He does his best to play it cool when the two of you arrive but you can tell he's just as excited as you, rushing over to pick out his character. Gaz is also all in on the heart ceremony but the employee can tell you're, you know, adults, so she doesn't have you do anything too crazy (i.e. jumping or spinning). As far as clothes go you better believe he is spoiling your plushie as much as he is spoiling you, pick any outfit and accessory you want, baby, on him! Of course you're getting the cardboard houses to carry them out in and you're getting snacks at whatever coffee or juice bar is closest to the workshop afterward.

The funny thing is with Soap neither of you actually planned it. You had gone out shopping for something else and just noticed there was a Build A Bear near by and when you mentioned wanting to go Soap was all in. Soap grew up in a good family but not a well off one so BAB wasn't something he ever did. This isn't exactly healing an inner child for him but oh boy does his inner child come out for this to the point where you are almost having more fun watching him light up doing all of this than making the plushie. The heart ceremony has jumping, spinning, the works and when it's time for him to dress his plushie he makes sure you both have a few outfit specifically so you can get matching outfits and individual ones.

You are the one who asks Price to go and he'll never deny you something this bloody adorable. He keeps insisting he isn't going to get anything but when the two of you get there... well... you didn't tell him they had Pokemon. He ends up grinning ear to ear as he gets his plushie stuffed. He doesn't get any clothes for his (Pokemon don't need clothes, love) but he is more than happy to get an outfit for your plushie. He is grinning enormously when he gets to fill out the birth certificate and you see him almost jump when they give him a Pokemon card along with his new friend.

Taking Ghost to Build A Bear is a long elaborate secret plan that you have been working on for at least a month. You are positive this is going to be good for him because if anyone needs a relaxed activity that encourages play it is your big British boy. When you finally steer him through the colorful doorway you watch him tense and then start to melt under your hands as you pull him over so you can pick a plushie, and of course he has to pick one too, you can't do this alone! You watch him carefully pick a plushie, the texture is important, and you hold his hand as you get them stuffed. Ghost is shy for the heart ceremony but you can tell that he's having fun, rolling his eyes at you when you tell him to make a wish. He finds a simple outfit for his bear that he painstakingly dresses them in and your hear melts over how seriously he takes naming them ("It's their name, I want to make sure it fits"). By the time you leave you don't think you've ever had more fun at a Build A Bear.

[traumadumpwriter]

JJ Maybank X Reader - Relapse and a Half

Summary: The Pogues feel betrayed by the readers sudden relapse into hard drugs, but they're unable to be angry at her for too long as something terrible leaves her needing their support more than ever.

Trigger warning for: drugs (obviously), guns, sexual assault, violence

Part One

Part Three

Part Two:

After John B had driven you home that night, he raced back to the Chateau, knowing that JJ would be going crazy. He hoped that nothing had been broken, thinking back on the last time they'd discovered that you were taking pills.

The night had been engraved into the minds of all the Pogues, the way you just suddenly collapsed and wouldn't wake up. The moment of realisation when JJ had emptied out your bag in a panicked rush and six orange pill pots fell out. Pope's hyperventilating as he felt for your pulse and it came back weak. John B's panicked shouting as he watched JJ shove his fingers down your throat. Kie's uncontrollable crying as she called the ambulance.

Then there was the despair that they’d felt watching the ambulance drive away with you inside. The shout that JJ had let out as he smashed through the rotting wooden table on the front porch. The way his hands had bled, his knuckles cut open, and how he’d refused to let Kie clean them, adamant that they needed to get to the hospital immediately. The devastation that they all felt in the waiting room.

It was all they could think about.

Kie and Pope had awoke at the shouting, and whilst Kie was sat solemnly on the porch with her head in her hands, Pope was trying to calm JJ down.

"I can't believe she's back on that shit! I mean what the fuck?" He had shouted, throwing off his cap and aggressively pacing. "And I can't believe she lied to my face like that! To John B's face! I mean, can you guys fucking believe it?"

"She's obviously going through something. If we intervene now we can stop it before it gets bad." Pope said pleadingly, to which JJ scoffed "It's already bad! Trust me man, you didn't see her tonight."

The memory of your wavering posture and slurring tongue snapped at him mockingly, too similar to the times his dad had come home drunk and unable to see straight. It just didn’t make sense to him. You’d spent so many hours together, him holding back your hair as you were sick from withdrawal, you curled up on his lap whilst he reminded you of how strong you were. Why would you want to throw that all away? Had it meant nothing?

"I don't know why you're so shocked, JJ. It's been pretty obvious for weeks now that I think about it. I mean, she's been acting so strange. It all makes sense now." Kie tutted. "You know how addicts are, they lie."

"Does she just not give a shit about herself or something? Why would she put that shit in her body again?" He wondered out loud, and Kie struggled to bite her tongue.

She wasn't sure what had caused her best friend to relapse, but looking at the timeline of her suspicion, it seemed that the blonde might have something to do with it. He was fairly drunk and his shouts were becoming more and more obnoxious, not considering how anyone else might’ve felt about the situation. He only seemed to get worse once John B arrived back; irritated at his best friend trying to defend you.

“Maybe it’s just a little slip up. Okay? Maybe it’s not as bad as last time.” John B protested, but JJ wouldn’t hear any of it, the words going completely over his head as he continued to angrily rant - more to himself than anyone else.

"It's so fucking dumb. The way she lied to my face. It's like she doesn't respect me-"

"Because you've shown her so much respect, haven't you? God, JJ! Would you shut up!" Kie cut him off with some volume, unable to bear the sound of his voice any longer.

JJ looked at her, shocked and offended.

"What the hell are you taking about Kie? What have I done wrong?"

"You treat her like some side piece and you know you do! The way you rub other girls in her face is so disrespectful. It’s like you want her to feel shit!”

He didn't understand. What was Kie talking about? You had never cared about the other girls. You had been the one to make it clear that your sexual relationship was entirely casual. You were far too cool for JJ, way out of his league, and he'd just counted himself as lucky that you liked to have sex with him sometimes. He'd never considered that you cared for anything deeper than that.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" He repeated but she just ignored him, picking up her bike and riding home, needing time to think before she reached out to you.

It had been two days since then, and you hadn't left your house. You'd hardly ate and you'd turned your phone off, hiding in your room and sleeping most of the time away. It mortified you to imagine what the Pogues were thinking. They probably hated you now.

You weren't expecting to be woken up by the sound of somebody in your room.

*Your POV*

My sleep was dreamless. A vast, thick blackness that covered me wholly, warm and comforting. It was my favourite way to sleep, no painful reminders of the waking world to bother my subconscious, just soothing nothingness to take my brain away. It was the only break I got from the bad thoughts. Now my shame was too much for even the Xanax to crush - no matter how much I took.

All I could think about was the betrayal on JJ's face as he asked me for the truth, and the lies that I’d spat out at him. I wondered if he or any of the other Pogues had tried to reach out to me, but I was too scared that they hadn't to check. If I turned on my phone and had nothing from any of them, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.

The sound of something being dropped near my head woke me up and I groaned, thinking it was my mum trying to get me to eat again.

"I still don't feel good. I'm sorry." I moaned, stretching as I yawned.

"Yeah your mum said you were sick. Wonder how long it'll take for her to catch on that you're using again."

JJ's voice was harsh and unexpected. I shot up straight, looking to the blonde boy with wide eyes. He was crouched down beside my bed digging through my cabinet with careless abandon, my belongings strewn around the room in a way that told me he'd been in here for a little while.

"It's always really nice having to check your friend's pulse, you know, just to make sure they've not almost killed themselves again." He continued in a tone that was dripping with sarcasm. "Is it even enjoyable to you? Living like a corpse? Because I just don't get it."

I didn't know what to say to that, my mind still groggy and confused. All I could mutter out was a quiet "What are you doing here?"

JJ didn't answer me, continuing to dig through my drawer until he finally found what he was looking for.

"Same shit you had to get pumped out your stomach. Nice one Y/N." He eyed the orange pot in his hand with furrowed brows. "And you're almost out, only one left."

It took my brain another few seconds to adjust to what was happening, processing the fact that JJ was ransacking my bedroom and in the process of stealing my pills. He had good reason to be, but it didn’t mean I liked it.

"JJ- I'm sorry." I stammered, watching him slide the pot into his pocket. "I didn't mean to get so fucked up."

"I know you didn't. You didn't mean for us to find out. Good thing I'm not stupid though, huh? Probably would've gotten away with it if I wasn't there. Not for long though, Kie was getting close. And she's pissed."

The thought of my best friend angry sent a shiver down my spine and a pang of guilt into my chest, especially knowing that she was completely right in her anger. How could I fix this mess I’d made? Should I have called Kie? Or would she just shout at me? I couldn’t deal with that.

"I know. I'm sorry. I- I backslid. But I can get clean again-”

“Yeah I know you can. And you’re going to. Whether you like it or not.” JJ cut me off bluntly, finally looking at my face.

He looked tired, like he hadn’t slept in days, and the crease between his eyebrows was deep set, like a permanent expression of stress. His blue eyes lacked their usual sparkle and his lips were chapped and bitten. I supposed I didn’t look much better.

I opened my mouth to apologise again but he continued to rant at me, his voice getting more aggressive by the word, and it was starting to get under my skin. If it had been anyone else I might’ve been able to take it but the fact that it was JJ - the boy who’d broke my heart without even realising it - just served to frustrate me.

“I just don’t get why you did it. And how you lied to my face like that. Not just to my face- to John B’s too! I mean shit Y/N. Almost a year clean flushed down the drain. How’d you feel about that?”

“Shit, JJ. Okay? I feel like shit.” I hissed, feeling my face heat up.

I knew I deserved the attitude, but I just wished he could’ve been a little softer. I wished he could’ve made me feel less ashamed. I wished he could’ve just held me and loved me.

“And Kie’s got the nerve to say I have something to do with it. I don’t, do I?” He continued as if he hadn’t even heard me, his hand movements becoming exaggerated. All I could do was wonder what exactly Kie had told him, worried that he knew the truth now and clearly didn’t like it. “I mean, the way you’ve been so weird to me is it’s own separate thing. You did this to yourself because of your own issues. Nothing to do with me, right?”

He finally went silent, staring at me as he waited for an answer, his nostrils flaring as he breathed heavily out of his nose. What could I say to him? Was I meant to lie to his face again? I couldn’t do that. I swallowed nervously, my mind racing with different answers, yet I settled on one question, afraid to hear his response but unable to keep it down any more.

“Why did you stop wanting to fuck me?”

JJ’s eyebrows raised incredulously and his anger only seemed to increase. He sucked in his lips with a disapproving sound and looked around the room, running his fingers through his hair stressfully, before turning sharply back to me.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He scoffed. “You’re the one who started acting weird! You stopped wanting to fuck me! Which is fine. I don’t care. But what does me fucking you have to do with this? I don’t get it.”

So Kie hadn’t told him the truth. But it didn’t matter anyway. He didn’t care - not about having me physically - so why would he want me at all? I was just his friend. His selfish, lying, drug addicted friend. And I was hardly even that anymore. Just selfish, lying and drug addicted.

His words had stung so badly despite being so minuscule that all I could think about was neutralising the sting. I didn’t want to be his friend. I couldn’t bare to be his friend. I needed to not care anymore, and I needed it instantly.

“Give me the pot, JJ. It’s just one more pill. It doesn’t matter.”

His eyes widened, like he was mind blown by my response, and he almost spat the next words.

“Are you fucking serious? You said you were getting clean just two minutes ago. What did I say to manage to fuck that up so quickly?”

I opened my mouth to say something - to tell him to shut up - but he continued on, his volume increasing.

“Because it is something to do with me, isn’t it? I tried to convince myself that it’s not, but it clearly is. That’s why you’ve been acting so shitty with me. That’s why Kie got pissed with me. So enlighten me, Y/N! What the fuck have I done wrong?”

My patience had all but run out at that point. My heart was heavy and my head ached. All I could think to do was tell the truth at that point - even though I knew I wouldn’t get the response I wanted from it.

It didn’t matter anymore. I had already ruined everything.

“I like you JJ! God, are you fucking blind? I fucking like you!” I hissed, the words shooting out of my mouth at a hundred miles an hour. “And every time you get with some gorgeous touron it fucking kills me! It makes me feel so worthless in ways you couldn’t even begin to understand! So yeah, I relapsed. I relapsed because I was sick of feeling worthless.. of feeling anything. Now can you give me my fucking pill back?”

If I thought he looked mind blown before, that was nothing compared to his expression now. It resembled one of horror, and my sickness only increased. Then it returned to his previously pissed off one, his lips thinned and his nostrils flared.

A dry, humourless laugh fell from his mouth.

“So it’s my fault? It’s my fault that you did this to yourself? Because you couldn’t just tell me about your stupid schoolgirl crush months ago?”

God, I wanted to disappear so badly.

“Give me my pill, JJ!” I shouted but he acted as if he hadn’t heard me.

“Way to shift the blame much-”

“Give me my pill and fucking leave, JJ!”

“Blaming this shit on me. You sound just like my dad-”

“Give me my fucking pill!”

He finally responded to my words, leaning in close with gritted teeth and lowly hissing “Or what?”

His faces was inches from mine. I’d never seen him look so angry - at a Pogue anyway - and I instinctively flinched away from him. I could feel my eyes getting damp and my bottom lip starting to quiver, and unlike usual I didn’t try to hide it. It didn’t matter anymore.

“Exactly! You can’t do shit!” He scoffed, a taunting smirk pulling at his lips.

“Get the fuck out of my house!”

“I’m leaving, don’t you worry. You fucking junkie. Just turn on your phone so the others know you’re alive.”

He stood up and pulled the pot from his pocket, waving it in my face before putting it back. He even snickered as I reached for it.

“I fucking hate you!” I shouted, picking up one of my pillows and throwing it at him.

“Yep. I hate me too. Join the club.” He spat.

And with that he slammed my bedroom door shut and I was alone again, tears falling down my face and sobs escaping my throat.

The months of wondering if he liked me back had been answered in the worst possible way. Far worse than any of the terrible ways I’d imagined. And it was all my fault.

I felt devastated, wholly and entirely. Not just devastated about JJ, but about the Pogues. There was no way I’d ever be invited back to the Chateau now. He would tell them about everything that had just happened - about how I’d demanded for my Xanax back - and they would hate me for it.

My mum was in my room moments later, wrapping her arms around me and trying to comfort me. She didn’t have any real idea of what had just happened, just that I’d had an argument with JJ, and she knew for a fact that I liked him. She was my mum after all, she could tell.

“It’ll be alright. Whatever you said, he’ll get over it. It’s not like he’s an angel. Lord knows I’ve heard that boy say some pretty mean stuff.”

And I had to just agree with her, unable to tell her the whole truth, unable to even smile as I thought of the times she’d overheard him talking shit and given him a stern look. There was only one answer to my problem now, and it was the exact thing that had created the problem in the first place. I had to go to Barry’s.

“I’m gonna go to Kie’s. Have a girls night.” I sniffled, wiping my face with the sleeve of my jumper. “I’m sorry mum. I just can’t be here right now.”

“That’s alright darling. Do you want me to drive you?” She said softly, sending another pang of guilt into my gut.

“No thanks. I’ll be alright.” I forced a weak smile and she nodded, her face relaxing slightly.

By time I’d showered, gotten dressed and put on some makeup it was getting dark outside which I was actually glad about. Reduced visibility meant that I was less likely to get recognised by anyone on my way, meaning they wouldn’t see the red blotches on my face from crying nor how ugly I looked.

The ride to Barry’s felt the longest it ever had; my head louder than it had been in a long time. I struggled to not start crying again, remembering JJ’s harsh words and how humiliated they made me feel.

When I got to Barry’s, I was relieved once again to see that the house was empty apart from him. A radio played country ballads quietly and the thick scent of weed smoke filled the room.

“What’s up with you party princess? You look like you just got told the worst news of your life.” Was what Barry opened the door with, and I couldn’t even argue with him. I looked like shit.

“Don’t act like you care. I just need to buy some more pills.” I forced a smile as I sat down on his couch, graciously accepting the half smoked joint from his hand.

“Well shit, that’s blunt. Maybe I do care. How would you know?” He scoffed.

“Because I’m not dumb, Barry. Why would you care? I’m sure you’ve got much more important things on your plate than whatever stupid drama I have going on.”

“You’re right I probably do. That don’t make me heartless though. Sucks to see such a pretty girl looking so sad.”

And there it was. All he had said was ‘pretty’ - such a minute compliment, yet I sucked it up like it was oxygen and instantly craved more. My body relaxed slightly and my gut felt a tiny bit less heavy. I let out a dry chuckle, unsure of whether my amusement was real or not.

“That’s sweet. Now can I buy some pills?”

Barry’s chuckle matched mine, also lacking any real humour though a grin painted his face.

“Sure you can. I ain’t got any xans in though. Only Klonopin. That okay?”

I didn’t know much about Klonopin other than that it was stronger than Xanax, and though I would’ve usually probably rejected the offer, it sounded perfect in that moment. I handed him the cash and he handed me the pot, which I instantly opened and took a pill from.

Barry raised an eyebrow, looking amused, and handed me a beer that he’d been nursing. I was quick to finish it.

“These pills cost more, you’re about twenty dollars short.”

“Shit. I can pay you back next week?”

“Don’t worry about it princess. There’s other ways you can pay me back.”

I knew what he meant immediately from the sultry tone he’d adopted, and though I thought to insist on paying him with cash, I didn’t even care enough to. Instead, I walked to his fridge and took out another beer before swallowing down another pill with it. Anything to make me forget about the Pogues.

These pills hit fast and strong and I sunk into the sofa like it were a big embrace from a huge, soft monster. The fibres felt softer than usual and my fingers traced over them with satisfaction, my mind going completely blank other than the thought of how nice the sofa felt.

“So, you wanna talk about what’s been bothering you or?”

“It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t want me. Who cares.” I mumbled.

“Who’s that? One of your boy toys?”

“JJ.”

Barry scoffed.

“Could’ve fooled me. That kid follows you around like a puppy dog.”

I grimaced, blue eyes appearing in my mind, and quickly chugged the rest of my beer.

“Can I have some smoke?”

“Nice of you to ask for once.” He chuckled, handing me the ashtray with a half smoked joint in it.

“You like my attitude, Barry. Don’t pretend that you don’t.”

“Yeah. Not the only thing I like about you.”

I snorted at that, though I was secretly flattered, any sense of danger quickly dwindling. An hour later and I was struggling to stay awake, my head continuously falling forward until I pulled it back up again, much to Barry’s amusement.

“Let’s get you to bed, princess.” He said to me with a smile, holding out his hand to take. I took it gratefully and followed him to his bedroom, stumbling as I did.

As soon as I saw the bed I flopped onto it, landing on my belly and burying my face in the soft sheets. Like the sofa, every fibre felt soothing and kind, and I momentarily forgot where I was until the sound of Barry’s deep chuckle reached my ears.

“You like the bed?”

“Yeah. It’s nice.” I mumbled in response and he chuckled again.

“You can stay here for as long as you want.”

“Thanks.”

Then I felt his hands on my shorts, his fingers hooking around the waistband and pulling them down without any warning. He pulled them all the way down to my feet until they were no longer attached to my body and then moved a hand to my underwear, groping my thighs and butt as he did.

“No. Barry. I’ll pay in cash. I promise.” I groaned, trying to flip myself over but struggling to do so against his grip.

“But you’re so beautiful.” He whispered in my ear, his hands now moving to untie my halter top. “Your skin is so smooth. Even softer than I imagined. And your ass is just incredible. A real work of art.”

I hesitated for a moment before whispering “Really?”

He hooked his finger into my underwear and pulled them down and I flinched and tried to turn around again, but his other hand flat against my back stopped me from doing so.

“Anyone who doesn’t want you is an idiot, princess.” He answered, closer to my ear than I expected him to be.

He placed a kiss on my neck and I opened my mouth to say no again but only a gasp came out, reacting to the feeling of his fingers suddenly being inside of me.

“Stop-” I tried to say with confidence, but it came out as a mumble.

“Ssh. Sssh. It’s alright baby. Let me look after you.” He said softly and in a moment of realisation I felt all the fight leave my body, disappearing into the darkness of the pillow that was suffocating my view.

There was no point in trying to stop it. It was happening now - thanks to my own stupid decisions - and I had to accept it. At least Barry wanted me, even if his touch felt like an invasive probe, at least someone wanted me.

My consciousness slipped away into a dizzy, warm pool, occasionally re-emerging with a particularly hard thrust or a slap to my arse, but largely un-present. I didn’t know how long he was fucking me for, and at some points I wasn’t even sure if it was real, everything feeling like some bad, confusing dream. The only real thoughts I remembered having were about JJ, and I was glad when they were plucked away.

The next morning I knew that it was real though, my body aching from his touch, and despite my mind’s desperate pleas for me to leave, another pill into my mouth had me sinking into the bed again, grateful for the soothing words that came out of his mouth. I didn’t have the energy to go home and lie to my mum’s face. To tell her about the great night I’d had with Kie when I’d really been in a borderline comatose state with a forceful drug dealer.

Barry brought in breakfast on a tray - a bacon sandwich - and a joint, lighting it for me before placing it in my mouth. It reminded me of the mornings I’d spent with JJ when I’d first gotten sober. How he tried so hard to make me feel better even though I’d done it to myself. I’d done it to myself all over again.

“Morning party princess, you feeling better?” Barry asked with a sincere smile and I shrugged.

I didn’t know what I was feeling. It wasn’t good, but was it better than last night? I couldn’t remember.

“How are you?” I returned, unable to answer the question.

“Well I woke up next to your ass so I’m pretty peachy.”

I couldn’t even crack a false smile at that like I usually would’ve. My heart ached.

“Oh come on darling, life ain’t all that bad. You got anything you need to do today?”

I didn’t even know what day it was.

“No.”

“Well then you can just relax here if you want. Help me weigh up some product. Eat some good food. Smoke some free weed.”

That did sound like an alright plan.

“I’ll cook up some hash browns.”

His offer sounded genuine, laced with care and concern, and it lit a spark of affection within me. I hadn’t been looked after like this in a long time. Not since JJ helped me get sober. Part of me knew that it was wrong, that I hadn’t wanted any of this from Barry and he was forcing it onto me, but the other part of me felt so desperate for love that I couldn’t bare to be alone.

“Okay, okay.” I agreed and then added a “Thank you” before swallowing a pill and then tucking into my sandwich.

He turned on the television before crawling back into bed with me, wrapping his arm loosely around my shoulders and taking drags on his own joint. A basketball game was playing and he seemed extremely invested in it so I didn’t complain, sitting and watching the sports like it was the most interesting thing in the world. I knew that if I was sober I wouldn’t be able to bare the bore of it, but as I smoked and got more high the giggles eventually kicked in and I felt a smile cracking at my face, amused by the enthusiasm of the commentators.

“What you finding so funny?” Barry turned to me and asked with a grin.

“I don’t know. They’re just so into it. It’s a simple way to live I guess.” I answered and he clearly disagreed.

“Ain’t simple. It’s important.”

“Of course you think that.”

I thought he was going to argue, maybe even get offended, but his smile widened and he instead reached out to gently touch my face.

“I like it when you smile. Suits you.” He said sincerely.

He leaned in and kissed me on the lips. The feeling was invasive and uncomfortable and I put my hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him away. The doting expression on his face was quick to turn to confusion.

“Sorry.. I don’t really want to do that right now.” I said sheepishly.

“That’s alright princess, don’t look so scared, I ain’t gonna hurt ya.” He smiled and I felt myself relax again.

I was stupid enough to believe him, even though my rear was certainly bruised from what he’d done the previous night. Maybe it wasn’t stupidity, maybe it was desperate naivety. Or maybe I was just high.

It was a short while later that we were sat in his living room on the sofa, a coffee table full of weed and two sets of scales in front of us. We’d been casually chatting whilst weighing and bagging up the weed, passing a joint between each other and paying half attention to the television. I’d almost completely forgotten about the previous night - or at least had pushed it to the back of my mind - and was somewhat enjoying myself. Images of JJ and the Pogues would flash behind my eyes occasionally, but I would just drink a beer or take a drag or eat another pill and they would soon go away. So, by the evening I was quite fucked up again.

A few customers had come by but were quickly hurried away by Barry who could obviously tell I didn’t want to be around them. I found myself quite grateful for his patience even if his lingering stares and light touches did make me uncomfortable. At least somebody wanted me. At least I wasn’t entirely worthless.

Then he tried to kiss me again and I rejected him less kindly this time, a bit too inebriated to remember my manners. The uneasiness that it made me feel had me instantly reaching for my pot of pills, and I didn’t say no when he offered me a drink a few minutes later, expecting him to bring out another beer. Instead he brought out a bottle of vodka and I stupidly said yes to it, not thinking of how spirits mixed with benzodiazepines

I quickly became a mess, unable to see straight or filter any words that came to mind.

It wasn’t long until I’d found myself being lead to Barry’s bed again, thanking him for his comfort and then unexpectedly trying to push him off me until I realised that there was no use. He’d raped me last night and he was going to rape me again, though I didn’t know if I could even call it rape given the fact that I’d put myself in the situation twice now. I’d been asking for it the first time, so the second time I must’ve been begging for it.

He was rougher this time, flipping me over, pulling my hair and even choking me. But I accepted it, trying to convince myself to enjoy it even though he was hurting me.

Eventually, I passed out, my body unable to produce the adrenaline that would usually keep one awake in these situations. And maybe I was thankful for that, or maybe it made it worse. I wasn’t sure. But at least I wasn’t thinking of JJ. At least somebody wanted me.

[cherrysurf]

try again (osamu miya x f!reader)

chapter 3: The downfall

contains: angst, breakups, idk what else

You and bokuto had hit it off quite well for the first couple months.

Not that either of you would admit it to anyone’s faces though, you played pretend happy couple to everyone. Thankfully the public didn’t know about your relationship which you liked. Just in case something did happen it would end privately without the public.

How the downfall of this relationship arrived so fast from the same reason you got with him in the first place. Because he was different.

The bickering started off small. With things like where to eat, what dates to plan, schedules, life goals, marriage, moving in together. Things like that.

Later progressed into actual fights due to work and him constantly leaving. Which then caused the cheating accusations on both ends. The threats to break up with each other, but you guys never did because neither of you were able to find a “good” reason to everyone why you two would break up.

Plus the familiarity that was created between the two of you made it hard to leave. That and you being scared of getting left again like how osamu did to you. So you stayed, he stayed. You did care for each other but maybe it was meant to stay just as friends nothing else.

Bokuto was understanding that now, you guys talked about breaking up soon on mutual terms to everyone just to make sure no one assumed their bad blood. Although after this you two will be taking much needed breaks from each other.

About a week later you two called it quits. It was time there was no use lingering around with each other, This breakup didn’t hurt you at all because genuinely it didn’t even feel real in the first place.

You checked up on bokuto a lot, during this time and you two had better conversations now than you did the whole time you were together.

“I guess it was just meant to be this way huh?” he spoke almost bittersweetly, yet happy he could still be with you friend or not.

“I guess so.” you stare into his eyes before giving him a side hug.

you didn’t know how else to do this but it felt like the only right thing you could do for yourself and him.

Atsumu and the rest of the team were very respectful and happy that it ended on the best terms. You and bokuto decided to keep the not so good parts of the relationship to yourselves just out of respect for each other and that’s truly all you could ask for.

You didn’t entirely end it because of the fights. You still missed Osamu and the thought of being with someone not like him did get you agitated from time to time. So you didn’t want to hurt bokuto's heart more.

You think Atsumu knew too, that you still missed his brother by the way your gaze landed a little too long at his face, or the way your eyes would dim at the slight mention of his brother.

everything felt somewhat normal once more, the stress of being with bokuto was gone even if the thoughts of osamu still lingered. It was better than before..

Then the worst thing happened. Three weeks after all this went down Atsumu got injured at a home game that you attended and had to be rushed to the hospital.

had to speed run this chapter and bokutos and yn relationship because genuinely it wasn’t gonna be good use of the plot and i don’t see bokuto being aggressive like mean so. sorry 😞

taglist; @sahrii @dearru @angeleilee @gumims @istann @chloiyoomi @loveyislost @kameyyy @tiramizuloz @hemmotivos @chososcamgirl @sakusasbadger

[manic-sapphic]

btw i suppose if i were to explain it a bit better (and talk way too much lol), what i'd say is -

catra dgaf if she loses at this point.

so long as adora does too. but because she's in an entropic mental tailspin honestly, and i'm not saying that's any excuse -

but in the same way catra should've been trying harder to be her future s5 "self-awareness catra" this whole time - honestly - same goes for adora. and i def know i'm saying what a lot already see but i do wish more people did by this point, especially since it's been what like? nearing 5 years? lol. that's why i'd really rather just not argue w people. by now we feel how we all feel and i'm not tryna change anyone's mind,

it's a waste of energy on both sides imo but idk i just respect that it's a futile endeavor and wouldn't want anyone to waste their time tryna convince me to feel differently than i do so i'm not gonna do that myself. i just enjoy thinking/talking bout this show and yes obvi catradora in particular lol but just cause i've always enjoyed literary analysis and have also always loved animation & been too gay to function so seeing something like this is dope af and it's more than just the show i like to rant on, it's the concepts i can't help seeing, and idk if they're intended or not. that's what i always enjoyed most about writing, whether lyrics or fiction -

you know what you meant, but you don't know forsure exactly what it'll mean to someone else. you just hope it means something that makes them feel a little more understood, at least for me.

so anyway uh hah - they were both pushed apart by this straight up purposefully planted rift that was only pushed further apart over time (fck off shadow weaver, and imo, light hope too... they each have this sacrificial last-second moment as i see it and were both manipulative af right up to the end and i appreciate each of their sacrifices cause tbh they were crucial af but i'ma be honest - it doesn't redeem either one in my eyes. you could call sw just as programmed as light hope in the same way i suppose i do catra & adora and many other characters tbh) -

but the difference is the really wanting to try and doing it for more than a moment. i know that people will say catra did the same thing in corridors, but tbh that's exactly my point -

i mean i def know she expected to suffer, but did figure it was her last act, but its meaning to her was different, esp from sw's. sw did it to make sure the magic was freed cause that kinda power was all she ever gaf about and she never really understood what fueled that magic anyway, whether as sw or light spinner, if you ask me that's why she was never able to "hold a candle" to someone like micah or even glimmer as a sorcerer. cause etherian magic is all about the love and btch only ever loved power, and that's not the kinda love that makes the magic happen aight. cause love is the power for etherian magic.

adora and catra both understood and that's why even though she was so cruel to them, they cry.

ugh my train of thought derails constantly - my point is that catra may have assumed this would be her last chance, but she wanted to "do something good" and most importantly - for adora. idk if sw ever really thought she fcked up. lines like "and i won't apologize" "i did what i had to do" and ofc the one that makes me flip off my tv every time, ngl, "you're welcome"

it's just different - catra sincerely wanted to make up for what she'd done, to adora, to etheria, by tryna give adora the ability to go back and save everyone. she doesn't say "you're welcome"

she says "i'm sorry for everything"

and she melts into adora's embrace at the end of save the cat - she gets to be a grumpy cat at the beginning of taking control, sure, but honestly

lmao how would anyone expect the turn around to be so quick? (glimmer: "this is catra we're talking about.. did you really expect her to change overnight?")

yeah, catra felt resentment and anger for a lotta the show and now she feels regret and shame for that - "i know you all hate me" - she feels she deserves to be hated. doesn't understand why anyone - especially adora - wouldn't hate her. but really does want the chance of not feeling like that, so does come to accept the offer of it.

and nothing is ever easy in those situations - but not just for catra, like i mentioned. for adora too. they both have to come to terms with the path forward if they really wanna care for each other. and they both decide they wanna try, and i kinda feel like if someone's doing their best, what more can anyone ask?

it doesn't have to be simple to be sweet. i guess that's the conclusion to this rant haha.

<3

"i won't let you win"

to me this moment isn't so much about

wanting to win

as it is about being tired of losing.

and eh - i mean losing everything. catra can't willingly go back to their reality.

as she says in corridors "there's nothing for me on etheria" and she already felt that right here

[wordvomit555]

I think that the most special thing about David Wymack is the fact that he not only gives people another chance, but also doesn't force them to do anything with it. There are so many characters out there who give a second chance and are disappointed if the person doesn't then raise to their full potential, but not Wymack. He will give you a chance and what you do with it is entirely up to you. And if you fuck up he will give you another one, and another one and not once will he make you feel guilty for fucking up again.