#first thought was this when i saw this photo

[bakerstreet-and-beyond]

Hey please be careful in sharing things like this because a number of these things folks are claiming you can't search/get flagged since the Ban you very much still can search and or were things that were already being flagged for review BEFORE the 19th ...

Like- did we all forget talking about this over a year ago when there was a decrease in Pro-Palestine content due to outside suppression on the app or when real time Lives of fighting in Ukraine were being taken down? There's a reason why people on TikTok were using 🍉 and 🌻 instead of the flag or actually naming the countries.

Also the majority of negative comments being flagged about these awful people is because it contains the word "Fuck" which on Tumblr y'all've been dunking on how on TikTok you couldn't/can't say, "Fuck" "Kill" "Sex" "Die" etc in comments and descriptions for YEARS... Literally if you put those words in as tags, descriptions, captions or comments you get flagged; We've known this for A WHILE.

They took 170 MILLION users offline and then back, some issues people are reporting are literally growing pains of putting the servers in weird limbo life support after taking them down (technically the app is STILL banned) like the Live Feature needing about 24hrs to come back online and quality being nuked.

Certain users are missing or aren't uploading anymore because they deleted the app not because they are "Banned", which still since the app itself IS STILL technically banned, you can't re-download in the app store currently. We all thought it was the end and some actually deleted their accounts the day of because of how sure folks thought it was over.

Also the primary editing software people use for TikTok, Capcut, isn't back either because of this purgatory the app is in so people can't even make the videos they normally make too.

Under the cut here the actual results when you type in those terms into TikTok search and what I saw for Lives literally 48 hours ago

When Lives Feature came back on literally the first Live I got on my FYP was for a MLK Day parade and it was someone zooming in on a sign a little girl was holding that said "This is the Kings day, NOT his" followed by the next Live got was a gentleman walking around his neighborhood speaking in Spanish about how he's been up all morning checking out suspicious trucks in his neighborhood worried that they may be undercover ICE vans. Next Live I saw was someone talking about how no one can see her live and yet there was 5,000 people watching 🧍🏻the next video I literally got was a Luigi Update; unfortunately I didn't realize I should've taken screenshots of all this but also,

I'm in the US and not using a VPN, here are my results for the following as of 1/22/25:

The Radio Station only comes up as a banner at the top suggesting the account but, all the results are tho what you'd expect

These videos also are still here,

And this is what you get for searching "Fascism"

And our boi is still very much here

I hit my photo limit, but I implore you to type those terms in that supposedly have "no results anymore" and see they very much do and or realize that some things have already been removed well before the 19th

I really think letting us purposely spread that the app is now overly censored and the Meta buyout rumours is a tactic to further divide us. I really think, right now at least, the only thing they had to do was put "Thank You Donald Trump" in the return message, without having to actually change anything else, and then let folks go wild with the accusations, rumors, and conspiracies so then we all turn on the app ourselves and thus we won't cry about it being gone or that it gives us some falsely created moral high ground for deleting it/not using it anymore/etc and again will keep us more divided than together.

Literally this is destabilization tactics our government uses on other countries and it's own communities...

Thankfully there are creators on there who are also pointing this out as well as, just look at the comments on this post and you will see that others are saying, again in the US without a VPN you can still search these things in the post above.

It doesn't excuse the other fuckery definitely happening by any means but, they are letting us destroy ourselves and the 3rd space we created where we were the most united we've been on a platform in a while. They know how to push our buttons and we're all being played.

Already seeing people on tiktok saying “I still hate trump but he ate with this one” like … babes … you just got propagandized … that’s literally exactly what he created this situation in the hopes you would say …

[mytherapyisreading14]

Drunk Confessions

Summary: You got drunk during a night out with your best friend and accidentally send your Professor a photo of you in lingerie. Now you try to avoid him, which is not really working.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Category: Smut (18+ MDNI)

Warnings: alcohol consumption, dirty talk, dom!spencer, semi-public sex, hair pulling, thigh riding, spanking, fingering, praise kink, multiple orgasms, oral sex (kinda, he comes in her mouth)

Word Count: 4,6k

Author’s Note: My last posts got so many likes, I didn’t expect that at all, thank you sm!! <3

Your alarm goes off - 8:30am. You groan. Your head is pounding and the sun shining into your room is just way too bright. Your stomach turns and you close your eyes to escape the wave of nausea. You slowly sit up and search for your phone on the nightstand. It feels like your head is going to explode. You reach out and unlock the screen, turning your alarm off.

It's way too early. And you drunk way too much last night. It was a chaotic but nice yesterday, a night full of laughter, way too much alcohol and karaoke. Your best friend celebrated her birthday and you promised to go to your favorite bar with her. You have to smile when you think back to the night and start checking your messages. You see that she already texted you this morning to find out how you are doing.

How are you?

I have the worst headache after last night

It was fun though, wanna go again tonight?

Just kidding, I feel like I need a week to recover from this

You can’t help but laugh and answer her quickly. You are about to put your phone away to finally get ready when a new chat catches your eye. You freeze in shock. It’s your Professors name. The one you’ve been crushing on since you saw him for the very first time.

Back when you found out that you were getting a new professor, you didn't expect much, a lecture like any other with someone who was only concerned with reciting his material. But then he entered. He came through the door and for a moment it seemed as if time stood still. The room, which had just been immersed in the murmur of conversation, suddenly became silent.

He was tall - taller than you expected and his presence filled the room in a way that you couldn't put into words. He wore a simple but elegant suit that somehow effortlessly fit him perfectly. His hair was a little longer, curly and fell slightly over his forehead. And then he looked up. His big, brown eyes met yours and in a split second everything became clear to you. You immediately knew you wanted, needed, this man.

Now you stare at the chat in complete horror. He recently gave you his number for a project. That's how this whole texting thing could even happen. Your heart is pounding in your chest. Obviously you can't remember texting him. You were so drunk yesterday that you can't even remember how you got home.

You open the chat - and your heart stops for a moment. It wasn't just a message that you sent him. It was a photo. Of you, in lingerie. It’s one of your favorite sets, you got it a couple of weeks ago. "I wore this for you today, Professor. Do you like it?” You wrote in addition to the photo.

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. You just stare at the screen, the picture of you that you should never, ever, ever have sent. And the worst part: He read it. But didn't reply. Confusion and panic spreads through you. You jump out of bed, your feet barely finding purchase on the floor, and your heart keeps racing. You try to think clearly, but your thoughts are a complete mess.

You reach for your phone again and frantically tap on the chat with your best friend, but you pause and call her instead. "Hello?" Her voice still sounds sleepy and hungover. “Oh my God, I need your help!" you gasp and immediately start telling her everything.

The line is silent, then you hear a short laugh. "Wait a minute... what? You did that?" You close your eyes and search for the right words. But before you can say anything, it hits you like a blow. You also have a lecture with him today.

"I’m not coming today," you tell her. “You can't just cancel!" she says immediately, and you hear her getting herself settled in her bed. Her voice sounds determined, but also worried. "You know how it is, our seminar today. We can't miss it. We said that celebrating wouldn't stop us," she says. "Celebrating isn't what would stop me either. Seeing him definitely is," you say and lean back with a groan.

You close your eyes and sink even deeper into the pillows. Your stomach clenches when you think about it. She’s right, You really have to go today. But the text, the picture that you sent him - what if he wants to talk to you about it? Or worse, he reports the whole thing?

"I can't just sit in front of him today and pretend that everything is normal. I sent him a picture of me in lingerie... I can't face him. It's just... it's just too much!" There is silence on the other end of the line for a moment. She still hasn't said anything, and you know she's thinking. Then you hear her take a deep breath.

“Okay, the thing with the picture, that's really... a little crazy. But hey, you can skip the lecture. Just disappear after the seminar and then hide in your apartment. Or you can go and hope that when you run into him, he'll do completely different things after you seeing this photo. I bet you looked hot, was it the new set you recently bought?” she asks and you can hear her grin even though you're on the phone.

Obviously she knows about your crush on your professor. You couldn’t stop talking about him after your first lecture and she took every opportunity to tease you about it. You look at your phone as if it were the only thing that could help you think clearly. Of course she's right. You have to go to your seminar. And you can really skip his lecture. Still, the idea that he might be thinking about it makes your heart beat faster and not just in excitement.

“You're right, I... okay, I'll come," You say after a short pause, but the thought of maybe running into him still makes you nervous. “You'll see, it won't be as bad as you think. You'll get through the seminar, it's only an hour. And then we'll be out and we can take our time for everything else. And you'll just avoid your favorite professor today," she continues to teases.

“Today? More like forever," you mutter and finally get up, even though the thought of getting out of bed still paralyzes you. “See you soon then. I'll shower and get dressed now, then I'll come. Let’s meet outside the building, okay?" you ask. "Sure!" she calls out happily. "See you soon and don’t forget to wear another fancy set for your professor today. Just in case you run into him,” she jokes.

After you hang up you put the phone on the pillow and stand there for a moment, your legs heavy, your head still about to explode. But then you take a deep breath. It'll be fine, you just have get through the seminar. With a sigh, you go into the bathroom and take painkillers first. Then you start getting ready.

You turn on the water and let it run hot. A short time later, you go into the shower. The hot steam envelops you and slowly your body feels a little alive again. The nausea subsides and the hangover becomes more bearable. After the shower, you get dressed in peace - black skirt, a comfy sweater and your favorite sneakers. You quickly walk through the apartment again to make sure you packed everything and when you leave the house, you somehow feel less like a wreck.

-

The smell of freshly served pasta is still in your nose as you say goodbye. You got lunch together after your seminar and it was nice to get a little break and talk about everything that happened. Now you are ready to leave but you still have to go to the library to get a book that you need for your upcoming assignment first.

“I still have to go to the library," you tell her, pulling your bag over your shoulder. “Are you coming with me?” you ask her. “I’m sorry, I have to pick up my sister now. But be careful, you don’t want to run into your favorite professor, or do you?” she teases again. “I’m not going to run into him. I’ll hurry up and leave immediately. I’ll call you later. See you tomorrow," you say and give her a quick wave before you set off.

-

The campus is full of students rushing through the halls, carrying their books around or sitting in groups and discussing. You slip into the library and head straight to the section where the book you need is. Unfortunately it’s at the top of the shelf and you realize that you probably won't be able to reach it. You jump up a few times, but the distance between you and the book just seems too big. You sigh. If only you were a little taller.

As you attempt the jump for the third time, you suddenly feel a presence building behind you. One that seems familiar. Your heart beats faster and a nervous tremor takes hold of you. You turn around and stare straight into Professor Reid's eyes. He is standing just inches away from you and you can hear the soft sound of his breathing.

The look he gives you is almost piercing - warm, but somehow also searching. He leans forward slightly without saying a word and effortlessly grabs the book with one hand. You avoid his gaze as he hands it to you. “Thank you," you murmur, trying to hide the slight nervous tremor in your voice. He nods and stands still for a moment.

"You weren't at my lecture today." You stare at the book in your hands and feel your stomach clench. This is not good. “I..." you take a deep breath. "I haven't been feeling so good. My head..." He waits, his eyes still fixed on you, and you get the feeling that he wants to hear more. You feel his gaze on you and when you finally raise your eyes to look into his eyes, there is a silent understanding, and for a moment you wonder if there’s more. “Sick, or...?" he asks calmly. You hesitate and bite your lip.

"I went out partying with my best friend yesterday, it was her birthday… we drank a little bit too much and... well, I'm not feeling so good today. That’s why I skipped." His expression remains neutral, but something in his gaze changes. You can hardly believe it, but it's almost as if he's interested. He frowns slightly. "I understand," he then says. "But it's not ideal to miss class, especially when important topics are involved."

You nod. “I know, Professor. I won’t happen again.” You just want to get out of this situation, and as you try to take a step back he stops you. "No, wait. I need to talk to you." You pause and turn back to him. "About what? I don’t really have the time -" you begin, pretending you don't have any idea what he wants to talk about, when he cuts you off.

"Doesn’t matter, it’s important. We'll sort it out in my office." His gaze is intense as he steps towards you. The thought of him asking you to come to his office makes your heart beat faster. The idea of ​​being alone in a room with him is tempting. "Okay," you say quietly, unable to prevent a nervous tingling from spreading in your chest. You follow him, even though your legs feel like they're made of jelly.

He leads the way, his steps calm and determined, and you can barely keep your eyes from lingering on his back. As soon as you reach the door to his office, he opens it and lets you enter first. You step in, your heart now beating loudly in your ears. The moment he closes the door behind you, you realize that it is more than just a conversation about the seminar.

The look he is giving you now is not the look of a professor. It is the look of a man who wants more than just academic discussions at this moment. And the thought that you’re alone with him in this room inevitably leaves you nervous and intrigued at the same time.

As the door closes behind you, you’re left breathless for a moment. His office is quiet, almost too quiet, compared to the crowded hallways outside. The room is sparsely decorated, except for the desk covered with stacks of paper and a few personal items. He is still standing at the table, his arms loosely folded in front of his chest and looks at you.

"Sit down," he says calmly, pointing to the chair on the opposite of the desk. You hesitate, then finally sit down, your heart pounding in your chest. The nervous energy inside you grows as you try to organize your thoughts. Before he can say anything else, you can’t hold it back any longer. The words come out of you hastily, almost in a rush, and you feel your body tense.

"The picture, it was a mistake! I didn't mean to... It wasn't meant for you. I was drunk, and it was stupid of me, really. I'm sorry." You look at the table, avoiding his gaze. But as you say the last words, you immediately notice how the atmosphere in the room changes. He remains silent for a moment, but then his body language shifts slightly - his gaze becomes more intense, the tension between you almost tangible.

"Hmm," he says after a pause, his voice deep and calm, "so the picture wasn't meant for me?" You flinch when you hear his question. What exactly does he want to hear? What does he want to know from you? You try to stay calm and answer hesitantly.

"It... it's none of your business." His expression hardens instantly. "It is," he says, and his voice sounds sharper, more determined now. "Because you sent it to me." Your heart beats faster as he continues. "I don't think it was an accident, even if you were drunk. You wanted to send it to me. And you did."

A cold shiver runs down your spine. You open your mouth, trying to say something, but you can't find a way to defend yourself. Instead, you just stay still, looking at your hands, which are resting nervously on your lap.

He laughs quietly, a mocking, almost challenging laugh. "So you're really sure it was an accident, huh?" He slowly leans forward, rests his hands on the table and looks straight into your eyes. The look in his eyes has changed, and something in his expression shows you that he is the one in control.

"Do you really think I haven't noticed how you look at me in class? How you keep watching my hands? How you press your thighs together when I approach you?" His words hit you and you freeze for a moment. Your cheeks burn hot, you feel your heart pounding uncontrollably, but you keep quiet. Everything inside you screams to defend yourself, but you stay silent because you know he’s right.

"I noticed from the beginning, angel," he continues, and a shiver runs down your spine. You can’t believe he just called you that. It turns you on immensely. "I know you didn't just do it because of the party and the alcohol. You also sent it to me because you wanted to." He leans further forward, his presence overwhelming, and you can't help but feel small even as you try to assert yourself.

You open your mouth to say something, but the words stick in your throat. What could you say? That he's wrong? That would be a lie. “You sent it to me," he repeats, his voice now almost like a command. "Because you wanted to show me. And I don't think it was an accident. You were drunk, yes, but you wanted me to see you like this."

Your body is paralyzed. It feels like the room has suddenly become smaller. You can hardly breathe. His words and his look have completely captured you in that moment. “I... uh," you begin, but the thought that he is in control, that he sees you like this at this moment, leaves you speechless and you’re unable form a proper sentence.

He remains silent, only his eyes continue to focus on you. "You have to understand that you can't just play with me like that." His gaze becomes more intense, and for a moment it seems as if he wants to say more but then he slowly stands up, walks around the table and stops right in front of you.

"I'll show you something," he says in a calm but unmistakable voice. "And you will understand why it wasn't just an accident." Your heart beats faster. His hand reaches for your chin, lifting it up and tracing his thumb over your bottom lip. Your breath hitches and you lean closer, craving his touch. “Get up and lock the door for me,” he says and pulls his hand away slowly.

You do as your told immediately and when you turn around, he is sitting on his chair with his legs spread. He looks so hot and you desperately clench your thighs together to relief the pressure between your legs. “Good girl. Come here,” he says and pats his thigh. You shiver in excitement and when he notices a grin spreads across his face.

You go over to him and when you stand in front of him, he pulls you down into his lap. He leans forward to whisper into your ear “That’s what you wanted, right? To be my good girl. That’s why you send me that picture. You wanted to end up here,” he says and places his hands on your hips. You press yourself closer against him and inhale his scent, he smells like cinnamon, peppermint and aftershave, it’s addictive.

However, you get interrupt by his hand reaching into your hair to pull your head back. You gasp in surprise and he leans closer to you, looking deep into your eyes again. “I asked you a question. I expect an answer,” he says and you can feel yourself getting even wetter. “Yes, that’s true. I - I always wanted that,” you manage to say and he releases your hair, satisfied with your response.

Then he leans forward and you finally feel his lips against yours. It’s even better than you always imagined and you start to grind against his leg, desperate to release the friction between your legs. But Spencer quickly stops you. “Did I allow you to move?” he asks and you shake your head.

He sighs in disappointment but before he can say anything you quickly answer him. “No, you didn’t,” you say and his grip on your hips looses a little. “That’s right. I didn’t. And you’re not allowed to move until I tell you to. You’re going to listen to me and do exactly what your told, do you understand?” he asks. “I understand.”

“See, it’s not that hard. You listen to me, you behave and you’ll get your reward. Now, do you want to ride my thigh?” he asks, his hand slowly sliding behind your back to your ass, squeezing it. “Yes, please. Can I?” you ask and he leans forward to kiss you again, his tongue exploring your mouth. When he pulls back you can see his eyes sparkling with lust. “So polite, I like that. Yes, you can,” he says and you finally go back to moving against his thigh.

It feels good, so good and when Spencer starts to slide one hand under your shirt to grab your breasts you press closer against him. You can feel that you soaked your underwear trough and wearing only a skirt, you can already see a small wet stain on his pants. His gaze follows yours and he chuckles. “Someone’s needy,” he says and you nod, leaning against his chest, grinding down more against him.

“Spen - Spencer, I’m going to come,” you whimper but he pulls you back by your hair again. “It’s Sir for you, angel,” he says and you correct yourself immediately. “Please Sir, can I come on your thigh now?” you breath out and he grabs your hips again, stopping you.

“No, not yet,” he simply says and you whine when he stands up and you lose contact. “But I thought - “ you start but he doesn’t let you finish. He turns you around and pushes you down onto his desk. “Doesn’t matter what you thought. I decided I’m not letting you come yet,” he says and flips over your skirt to expose your underwear to him.

“I see, another pair then the ones you wore yesterday. I’ve got to admit, I prefer the other ones, but you look pretty anyway, angel,” he says, sliding his hands over your thighs and your ass. “Last night when you send me that picture, I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admits and you can feel your whole body reacting to his words.

A wave of confidence flashes through you. “Did I keep you up last night, Sir? Did you have to stroke your cock while you looked at my picture? Thinking about all the ways you want to fuck me?” you ask him and turn your head slightly back to look at him with a smirk on your face. His eyes darken and he tightens his grip.

“Oh you have no idea, angel. I’m going to show you exactly what I was thinking about last night,” And suddenly you feel a harsh smack on your ass. He just spanked you. And you liked it. Your breath hitches and you bit down on your lip to keep quiet. You don’t want anyone to find out what’s going on in here.

His hand strokes the spot he just hit before going further down to pull at your panties. He takes them off and stuffs them into his pocket. You are convinced you’re not going to get them back. Then you feel his long, slender fingers sliding between your legs before he presses onto your clit. You gasp in surprise and try to press against him but his grip on your hips is firm, holding you still.

Then he pushes two fingers inside you. “So fucking wet.” His eyes wander over your body down to your legs hungrily, appreciating every curve and every spot. “I’ve never seen such a pretty pussy. And it’s all mine now. You’re all mine now,” he says. The way his fingers move and the way he stares at you intensely feels just way too good.

When his thumb goes back to your clit, rubbing it in slow circles, you can feel how your orgasm builds up inside of you and you can no longer hold back your moans. “Spencer - Sir, feels so good. Please,… I need more,” You clench around his fingers and he quickly puts a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. “Shh, be quiet, angel. As much as I would love to hear all these lovely sounds you make, I don’t want to get interrupted. Not now, when I finally have you, after all this time.”

His fingers curl inside you and keep hitting your g -spot. You clench around them, he notices and chuckles. “Can I - please,” you stutter. “Yes angel,” he says, already knowing what you’re asking for and you come around his fingers. You never had such an intense orgasm from foreplay before, but you don’t mind. It’s even better than you always imagined.

He wants to give you a moment to recover but you want more. You somehow manage to turn around, even though your legs feel like they are going to give in any second and push yourself up on his desk. He looks surprised and opens his mouth to say something but you interrupt him by pulling him closer by his tie.

You wrap your hands around his neck and rank your fingers through his soft, brown hair before kissing him. You moan into his mouth and he groans, sending a shiver down your spine. “Thank you, Sir. That was amazing,” you say with a smirk on your face when you pull back. “Now is the time to lose your pants and relax, I want to return the favor.”

“As much as I want to see you down on your knees with your pretty lips wrapped around my cock, we don’t have much time left. Office hour starts in less than 30 minutes. And I need to fuck you. So drop it and spread your legs for me. Now,” he demands and you obliged, sitting further back on his desk with your legs spread.

He takes a step back and starts to unzip his dress pants. When he takes out his cock your eyes widen. He is even bigger than you expected. “Are you on the pill?” he asks while he starts to pump his cock. “I am,” you say. “Good. I want to fuck your pussy and then, since you suggested sucking me off, come inside your mouth. I want you to taste me. You don’t swallow until I say so. Do you understand?” he asks, sliding his cock through your folds to tease you. “Yes Sir, I understand,” you whimper and he wastes no time and pushes inside you.

His first thrust already make your eyes roll back and you feel like you’re going to die from the intense pleasure. Your legs wrap around his waits and your hands are on his back, pressing him even more against your body. Everytime a whimper or a moan escapes your mouth his thrust become deeper, rougher and faster. You can feel him throb inside you and he keeps hitting your g- spot over and over again.

One of his hand is sneaking through your breast, squeezing it and toying with your nipple. You graze his back with your fingernails and make sure to leave marks on him. Your mind goes blank and you lose yourself in the pleasure completely. After a few more thrust you can feel the orgasm building up inside of you. “Close,” you breath out and he nods. “Me too. You can come on my cock now.”

You let go and your orgasm is even more intense than you expected. You moan his name so loud that he quickly covers your mouth with his hand again. He picks up his speed and a few thrusts later he pulls out of you to shove his cock into your mouth. You can feel his cum inside your mouth and taste him, just like he told you to. He watches you closely the whole time while he recovers from his own orgasm.

“Now swallow,” he says and you do. Then he pulls you forward with both of his hands to kiss you. The kiss is different this time, more gentle and caring, not just full of lust. When he pulls back you both smile. “I guess sending you this picture was not bad at all. And I was so worried.” He laughs. “I’m glad you send it, angel. Now I finally have you all to myself. It's a shame I couldn't take more time for you right now. There's a lot more I'd like to do with you,” he says with a mischievous smile on his face. “Why don’t you show me after your office hours, Sir?” you say with a smirk on your face. “Make sure to be here on time, angel.”

[lostinlovingrevery]

Head Over Heels

Trilogy! Logan X F! Reader

Plot: You have a major crush on Logan, and decided he's too pretty to not paint

A/N: This is purely me just being a huge romantic. I also got a polaroid camera for christmas that i use to take pictures of everything so...

Warnings: None! This is pure fluff, Reader is just a huge romantic, and crushes on Logan big time. Mentions of the other X-men, taking pictures, painting?

Word Count: 1741

Golden sun rays

Dusty library books

Tall, broody, and handsome

You were observing a photo in your study at Xavier's School for the Gifted. You were a professor there, teaching classes such as mutant ethics, mutant history, and mutant biology. Anything with mutants, that was your job; and that was by day- by night, you were an X-man. You went on dangerous missions in the name of making the world better and safer for people. You were strong, intelligent, compassionate…

And a total romantic.

You loved love. Not just romantic love, but platonic love, familiar love. You loved art, religion, and politics. You found beauty in everything, even the mundane. It didn’t matter if you’ve gotten your heartbroken before, if you were ridiculed for your passion, you enjoyed life and what it had to offer. Was every day like that? No, but that’s okay, because it only made the good days sweeter.  

You carried a polaroid camera with you often. It allows you to take pictures of things whenever you want, things that strike your fancy. A pretty rose that bloomed in the garden, a sunset at the beach, Hank in his lab, Jean and Ororo painting each others nails, Scott glaring at the camera, students studying in the halls, a bird perched on the window sill, Charles in his office, a forgotten bottle of soda sitting outside-

And your most recent addition to the collection on your wall, a photo of the X-men's new-ish recruit, Logan Howlett, the big bad Wolverine. 

He arrived close to 6 months ago. To say you immediately crushed on him the moment he showed up was an understatement. Love at first sight- was probably a more accurate description of what happened. It wasn’t enough that you already thought he was extremely handsome, his lovely face with those mutton chops , that thick head of chestnut colored hair, his hazel eyes - sharp and fierce one moment - sweet and pretty the next. He had the body that you could only compare to a Greek God. 

The attitude though, when he opened his mouth, the attitude that pissed people off but only spurred you on. 

You were head over heels. Ororo teased you that you practically had heart eyes for the wild man whenever he was around.

You two quickly became friends- if you could describe it as that since Logan Howlett does still try to be a “cool guy”, acting suave and nonchalant, but you would quickly break through the barriers he’d set up. Not because of your little “crush”, but because you were a naturally welcoming person. You understood people, had the patience of a saint, and the confidence to not take shit. All perfect for dealing with the Wolverine. You saw right through him. The sarcasm and the cockiness he would sport.  As you grew to know him, your feelings turned less from a schoolgirl crush to something more serious deep in your soul, an ache to take care of him the way no one else has- the way he deserved. You felt he had the same feelings for you, the protectiveness that he had for you, the way he picked up on your habits and quirks, and how he always spoke just a bit more softly to you than he does to anyone else. Whatever was happening, was blossoming slowly- but surely.

Nonetheless, you weren’t going to rush anything. 

But, when you saw him in the library, standing near a dusty shelf lined with books no one has touched in years, he was staring out a window, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall, his expression soft and reflective, with golden rays of the evening sun highlighting his features, you thought it was one of the prettiest things you have ever seen. You could see the thoughtfulness in Logans face, a relaxed expression that is rarely spotted on the Wolverine- who normally is gruff, a frown always seemed to be permanently painted on his face. It so happened you had your camera on you, so you quickly snapped a photo- and took off before he looked in your direction, knowing that with his amplified hearing, he would have heard the click of the camera. 

The photo honestly captivated you, like a painting with the way the sun rays came in through the window. It highlights the warm color of his hair, the structure of his face, and the toned muscles of his arm. 

You used to paint all the time. It was a hobby you thoroughly enjoyed, as it relaxed you- allowing you to take in the small details, slow down, and appreciate the gentle strokes of the brush as you carefully choose the perfect color to paint onto the canvas. You’d paint the pictures you’ve taken if they had an impact on you- much like how the Polaroid of Logan was impacting you now. You hadn’t painted in a long time, the work of being a professor and an x-men left little time to enjoy the hobby that takes a lot of time.

Seeing though, as you had time now. Why not?

Digging out your old stand, and your paints and old brushes, and fortunately, you still had at least one bare canvas left, otherwise you would have likely covered one of your older paintings- which were still stuffed in the closet of your study, to use instead. An intense need to create and make something just as beautiful as Logan was in that photo.

Starting with the background, you found yourself back in your familiar style of painting, eyeing the colors of the photo. The color of the wall, the floors, and filled in the shadows and got the placement of the window juuuust right, and was just starting to work on the bookshelf that would be behind Logan. You’d been working on it for nearly an hour, your normally overactive brain had silenced itself to focus on your task.

You hadn’t noticed Logan walking in at first. He had been looking around for you, having a surprise to give you- and found that no one else had seen you in a while, which was odd- since you were a complete busybody- and you could be spotted easily all over the mansion. He went to your study, and found you by the window, staring intensely at a canvas before you, sitting on a chair with your legs criss-crossed. He walked up to you- not silently, only clearing his throat to announce his arrival once he was next to you.

Jumping at the sound of his voice, and turning to look at him, your hand quickly snatched the polaroid that was perched against the canvas so you can look at it for reference. Logan didn’t miss how you grabbed it, and snuck it under your thigh. He quirked a brow.

“What you working on bub?” 

“Oh…” You turned to look at the canvas, and a deep blush came across your cheeks. “Just…Painting.”

“I didn’t know you could paint.” He says, a small tone of interest in his voice, making you perk up a bit.

“I haven’t done it in awhile.” shrugging, and glancing at the canvas- and relieved you hadn’t worked on Logan's actual figure yet and suddenly very aware that you had been acting on impulse- wondering if it had been strange that you decided to just paint a picture of Logan after you secretly- but not so secretly took a picture of him earlier... “I just…got hit with inspiration I suppose.” 

“Yeah?” He glanced at it. “What are you painting?...” He observed it and you let him work the details out. “A window…that a bookshelf?” 

“Excellent observation skills Lo.”

He smirked. “You do anything specific with your paintings or just…whatever?”

“I paint things I find pretty.” You say simply tilting your head to look up at him. An expression came across his face- something you couldn’t quite gauge. 

“Oh yeah?” He says. He glanced at it again. His eyes trailed over back to you. “What's so pretty about this one?”

“You’ll have to find out.” You tittered. He quirked a brow, before looking back at the canvas. The way he kept observing it made you nervous. The gears in that beautiful head of his turning. Did he recognize it?

“Hey, you take any pictures today?” He asked with a casual tone.

Your smile faltered a bit, and you bit your lower lip, chewing on it nervously.

He’s on to you

“I took a few.” You answered- your very best to be nonchalant, but he could hear the slight waver of your voice. As he placed a hand on the back of your chair, he leaned down towards you, his chin tilted upwards but his eyes bore down at you, a small quirk of his lips. Your heart started beating faster at his close proximately, and he lowered his chin down, leaving you both nearly face to face. His eyes glanced at your lips. 

“Take any by chance in…the library?” 

You swallowed, unable to tear yourself away, as a warm heat came across your cheeks. As he got closer, unable to bring yourself to answer just then- but you felt he knew what it was. Your eyes traced over his lips, and you decided you weren’t going to hide it anymore. A smile grew across your lips, as you tilted your head up at him. Confidence filled your chest, 

“I did. Of something I thought was very pretty.” You say, looking him in the eyes. A sweet smile came across his face and he closed the space between you, softly pressing his lips to yours- a heartbeat passed, giving you a chance to pull away by some off chance he was wrong, but you eagerly returned the kiss. Turning your head softly to meet with him, your noses bumped together, and you began to giggle. Your whole self felt like butterflies as adrenaline ran through your veins at the fact that you were finally, finally, kissing him.  

You separated, and you felt like he just stole your breath; He didn’t look like he felt no different from you either. His lips, slightly parted, curved up into a smile, and brought a hand up to your chin, his thumb softly pressing to your bottom lip, as you looked up at him with bright, adoring eyes.

“You got that camera on you? I got something pretty I want to take a picture of too.”

[instantwastelandtimemachine]

Hall Pass Dress!

My wife accompanied my best friend to his sisters wedding!

When I saw the LBD she planned to wear to the reception, I knew she would end up back in his room afterwards. I secretly replaced her “night out bag” with an “overnight bag” and included a note.

“Enjoy the ceremony, enjoy the reception, enjoy yourself with Ryan. I’ll see you tomorrow or Sunday. I Love You!”

I had her clothes packed for at least a 2 night stay!

—————————————————————

Early Friday afternoon my phone rang, it was Christy.

“Hello?”

“How did you know!”

There was concern bordering on panic in her voice. I chuckled a little. It didn’t allay her concerns. She jumped in almost at a whisper,

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I…. I got my bag out of the car and…”

I needed to calm her down. I said,

“Baby, it’s okay. I connected the dots. You haven’t exactly been subtle with him. You were practically drooling during the rehearsal dinner last Wednesday.”

Christy said, “But you weren’t there!”

“Yes but Jealous Janice was and she kept me well supplied with candid photos of you and him flirting the night away.”

I could hear the sizzle, “That BITCH! I’ll kill her!”

“You will do no such thing! Janice is providing unbelievable photos of you in lust with Ryan! And your texting (sexting) with him has filled in the rest. You don’t make a habit of locking your phone so anytime a message came in I only needed to look and see what you two were planning.”

Her breathing had slowed considerably,

“So you’re not furious with me?”

“That Wednesday night I certainly was!”

“You nearly fucked my brains out when I got home that night.”

“Yes, but I’ve learned the difference between my wife being attractive to other men, which makes me proud, and my wife being attracted to another man, which makes me horny beyond belief!”

Christy gasped!

“But how did you??? About this weekend?”

“I saw the text from Sandy when you asked for a “ride back” after the festivities. Her reply was a wink emoji. So I knew your plan A was going to fall through. And your texts with Ryan kept getting hotter and hotter. You stopped referring to it as his room and his bed and started saying our room and our bed to him. My wife and another man! I never thought that was something I would want!”

I could tell she was processing what I had said, I asked,

“When did you check-in?”

“11:00”

“When did you fuck him first?”

“11:15!”

There was a pause, I knew she had more to say.

“Actually it was Monday night when we bought the dress.”

——————————————————

[wtfaniii]

Hii could I do a request :) if so could you do a front max x niece reader where she’s me hot cops daughter and she goes looking for him:) and at the cliff he reveals himself and she’s feeling so many emotions because she looked up to him a lot and him and his wife basically raised her because mr hot cop had he quite young

I hope this makes sense Tysm !!

Love your work :)

I love this idea, lots of drama and the reader would practically be in Jun-ho's place as In-ho's searcher.

Tough Decisions, Strong Wills

Summary: At sixteen you should be painting your nails, sneaking out to parties and making all kinds of changes to your hair, but no, you were standing on the edge of a cliff with a gun in your hands and suffering a great disappointment from someone you always admired.

Warnings: Only drama, angst and sentimentality

pd: In case there is a second part, the reader will be paired with the salesman

Hwang In-ho (Front man) x fem reader niece

It was almost midnight and the rain had just begun to fall on the street when a knock on the Hwang couple's door interrupted their peace.

In-ho walked to the door and opened it to find his eighteen-year-old brother, sweating and holding his seven-month-old baby.

—She has a temperature and I don't know what to do —Jun-ho said, panting from exhaustion and stress.

—Give it to me —he said calmly, taking his niece in his arms.

He then invited Jun-ho into his house, it was not the first time his brother had come at unwise hours to ask him and his wife for help.

But he was always willing to help him, he knew he was young to do this task on his own after his sister-in-law ran away leaving him with the burden of a daughter.

—You like to upset your father —In-ho said with slight mockery, leaving the baby in his wife's arms, she was also willing to help.

—I'm flattered that you consider us more trustworthy than a doctor —The woman smiled warmly at the infant as she rocked her to sleep and walked to his room for some medication.

[...]

The night breeze hit your face, the sweater you were wearing was a great help but your school skirt left your legs exposed to the cold.

Once again your cell phone vibrated in your pocket, you took it out and saw the photo of your father, you turned it off and looked up again at surroundings.

It was almost one in the morning, Jun-ho was desperate to locate you, you had not returned home after school and that alarmed him, however, his boss was not willing to help him in your search because it was not the first time you escaped.

But it would be the first time that you would not return for a long time.

You loved your father but after the disappearance of your uncle In-ho and the death of your aunt it affected your family so much that Jun-ho immersed himself in his work and you in your unstoppable search for In-ho.

You were outraged by the fact that Jun-ho didn't talk about the subject with you, you thought he didn't care but you were wrong, he, like you, also tried hard to find him.

But when he didn't get anywhere he decided to focus on you, In-ho wanted that but he didn't count on you being so focused on finding him.

You didn't have any friends, missed a lot of classes, spent most of the day on the street and you had gadgets that a girl your age shouldn't have access to.

It was surprising and he even felt proud but you were taking it too far.

Now you wait for a limousine to pass by you while look at the curious card with three figures in your hands.

You weren't planning on entering those damn games, you wanted to infiltrate, you suspected that In-ho was related to this after finding a similar card in his apartment.

It was difficult but after dedicating a whole year to this you were finally close, you felt it, the salesman even talked to you out of simple curiosity, the man found it intriguing and curious how a girl of your age managed to find his organization in such a short time.

As you got into the vehicle that was driven by people dressed in pink and wearing masks with circles, you held your breath as much as could so that you wouldn't be knocked out by the smoke they released with you and the other people inside.

You were smart and agile, infiltrating as just another soldier was an easy task, now you just had to find out everything you could about these games.

You mentally thanked your father for teaching you how to use weapons and fight to defend yourself, if not you would surely be dead already.

You had found out many things, including that In-ho participated in these games and won, but if they had given him all that money ¿Where was he now?

You took photos and videos of everything but now you were running for your life on the island with those soldiers and the front man following you, you were wet from trying to swim away, how stupid, you were far from civilization, your breathing was labored and were trying to find some signal to send all that evidence to your father.

—Damn shitty cell phone —You grumbled when you didn't get a single bar, you'd be lying if said you weren't distressed, of course you were, you didn't want to die.

When you heard a shot near where you were, yoy kept running to try to hide, but it was impossible and reached the edge of a cliff.

You looked down, there were only rocks and the tide.

You kept your gun in left hand and turned around pointing it forward when you heard those masked men approaching you.

—Don't come closer, I already sent all the evidence to the police station — You threatened with lies, raising the cell phone and showing them some photos.

—The signal here is poor —said the masked man dressed in black and gray —And your battery died.

You cursed under breath as you saw that it was true, your cell phone was now dead.

The front man took a step closer to and you pointed the gun in your shaking hand at him.

—One more step and I'll kill you —You threatened again even though you still weren't able to kill a fly and he knew it.

—I can tell from your posture and the sweat on your hands that you've never shot a person before.

Hearing you cut the cartridge In-ho stopped, maybe you were able to shoot, you were scared and obviously were going to defend yourself.

When he called your name you paled and took a small step back.

—¿How do you know who I am?

Front man didn't answer anything, he just slowly raised his hands towards his head so you wouldn't feel threatened, he lowered his hood and finally took off his mask.

Your eyes widened in disbelief and your hands hesitated for a few seconds but you maintained your stance with the gun facing him.

—You....

In-ho was standing in front of you, with an expressionless face and the coldest eyes you had ever seen in him, you wanted to scream in helplessness.

You had so many questions, you were overwhelmed and the worst thing was that you didn't know what to do, you couldn't shoot him, you didn't want to, but he was the leader of all this, you saw so many people die in so few days and knowing that he was behind it all made your heart break.

You admired him, he and your aunt had been with you for as long as could remember so they had become your inspiration, you wanted to be like him.

Now you just needed a hug from your father.

In-ho remained silent, he didn't want to overwhelm you more than you already were, he just extended a hand towards you for you to take, you were very close to the shore and it gave him goosebumps.

—Put down the gun —He said calmly and staring at you.

You hesitated for a few moments, not knowing what decision to make and the tears in your eyes threatened to overflow.

In-ho really wanted you to hold his hand, otherwise he would have to kill you and he didn't want it to end like this.

—Please put it down —He repeated.

You finally made a decision.

You slowly lowered the gun and took a few steps forward to take him hand.

As soon as he had you close he hugged you affectionately, deep down he was amazed by everything you did for him, it was nice to know that there was still someone in his family who was willing to go this far for him.

—I missed you so much... —You whispered through tears, hugging him tightly as well.

—I know, I know... it's okay

He let you vent, you were still wondering if this was for the best, you had been missing for six days, you were sure your father was losing his mind.

But In-ho was very important to you, he and your aunt had heard your first word, your first steps and you perfectly remember that father-daughter school dance that Jun-ho couldn't go to because he would be presenting a project at his academy, In-ho went with you to that dance.

—You'll be fine... —In-ho whispered to you as they walked away from the edge of that cliff.

[...]

It had been three years since you disappeared and people were judging Jun-ho regarding his sanity.

—¿Are you sure you don't want to return to your post? You were the best here and...

He interrupted his boss by getting up from the chair in front of his desk.

—You didn't help me when I told you that my daughter was lost, you thought it was just another insignificant action of hers.

He was hurt, he still had hopes of finding you and In-ho again now that he had found all the information you gathered under your bed but he couldn't afford to trust his police unit again.

Not wanting to continue talking to his ex-boss, he left there. There wasn't a day that he didn't look for you, you were his only daughter and even though most people told him that you were already dead, he refused.

Even when they found your school backpack with all your things inside on the riverbank, he had a feeling that you were still alive and not underwater like most people told him.

Not knowing if you were okay, if you were eating, if you were happy, sad or scared was killing him every minute.

His only chance now was Seong Gi-hun.

Jun-ho would find you, you and an in-ho.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Chapter 23: In Focus

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: none

Paring: Paige Bueckers x !photographer fem reader

Fandom: Women's basketball

Summary: more opportunities...

Welcome to the chapter 23 of Through The Lens. I hope you all enjoy and there is more to come...stay tuned my loveies!! 🏀💕📸

Reader’s POV

The past few days had been… intense, to say the least. But somehow, through all the tension and heavy conversations, Paige and I had found our way back to each other. Things still weren’t perfect—life rarely was—but for the first time in what felt like weeks, we weren’t dancing around unspoken feelings or fears.

We decided to go on a date that night, something simple and lowkey, just the two of us. No basketball, no cameras, no looming WNBA talk—just Paige and me.

When she picked me up from my apartment, she was wearing her favorite UConn hoodie, her hair pulled back into a loose bun. “You ready?” she asked, flashing me that smile that always made my heart skip.

“Yeah,” I said, grabbing my bag and locking the door behind me.

Paige had planned for us to grab food at a small diner just outside of town. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was perfect. We slid into a booth near the back, away from prying eyes, and ordered burgers and milkshakes.

As we ate, I noticed how relaxed Paige seemed. She laughed more, teased me about my poor attempt at organizing fries into “photo-worthy” stacks, and even let me take a candid picture of her with whipped cream on her nose.

“This is going on my wall,” I joked, showing her the photo.

“Oh, great. Just what I need—my worst moment immortalized forever,” she teased, but her grin told me she didn’t mind.

“Your worst moment? Paige, please. You’ve had far worse,” I said, raising an eyebrow.

“Name one,” she challenged, leaning back with her arms crossed.

“When you tripped during warm-ups last week and tried to play it off like it didn’t happen.”

Her mouth fell open. “You saw that?”

“Paige, everyone saw that.”

She groaned, covering her face with her hands, but she was laughing, and that made my chest feel warm.

The next morning, I woke up to an email from the athletics department of a rival school—Jade’s school. They were asking if I’d be interested in covering their game against Lsu.

I hesitated. On one hand, it was an amazing opportunity to expand my portfolio, but on the other… it felt a little weird. I texted Jade to ask her opinion.

Jade: Do it! I wanna see you at the game. Plus, get that bag.

Her encouragement gave me the final push I needed. I replied to the athletics department, agreeing to cover the game—under one condition.

I’ll cover the game if you’re willing to pay my rate.

To my surprise, they agreed.

By the time game day rolled around, I was running on adrenaline. I finished my classes early, packed my camera gear, and made my way to the airport to catch the UConn team before their flight to USC.

When I arrived, the team was already gathering in the terminal. I spotted a few of the girls chatting near the boarding gate, but it was Paige who saw me first. Her face lit up when our eyes met, and before I knew it, she was walking toward me, her bag slung over her shoulder.

“Hey,” she said softly, her voice warm and familiar.

“Hi,” I replied, feeling my heart race as she pulled me into a hug.

We lingered there for a moment longer than we probably should have. The team was right there, after all, and we weren’t exactly public yet. But in that moment, it was hard to care about anything else.

When we pulled back, our faces were inches apart. For a split second, it felt like the rest of the world faded away.

“Paige,” I whispered, glancing around nervously.

She sighed, stepping back reluctantly. “Right. Not public.”

I nodded, trying to ignore the way my stomach flipped at the thought of being caught.

“I’ll see you after the game, back home” she said, her voice low and teasing.

“Good luck,” I replied, watching as she turned to rejoin her teammates.

As the team started boarding, I pulled out my camera, snapping a few candid shots of the players as they walked onto the plane. Paige noticed, of course. She grinned and held her hood out to cover her face, her eyes peeking over the edge as if to tease me.

“Really?” I mouthed, lowering the camera.

She just shrugged, her smile never fading.

Later that night, as I reviewed the photos I’d taken, I couldn’t help but smile at the ones of Paige. She was beautiful, even in her goofiest moments, and I felt lucky to capture her in a way most people didn’t get to see.

When my phone buzzed with a text from her, I wasn’t surprised.

Paige: Did you get any good ones?

Me: Maybe.

Paige: Let me see.

Me: Only if you promise not to make fun of me.

Paige: No promises, ma.

I laughed, shaking my head. Despite everything we’d been through, we were still us—teasing, laughing, and figuring things out as we went. And for now, that was enough.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

       -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

Tag list: @sayurireidotcom , @astroeliza , @paxaz535 , @0phantom0 , @sevyscoven , @authentic-girl03 , @starlighttsv .... (more to be added)

[cosmicalily]

"written by the aces" - a mini series by @cosmicalily. view series masterlist, and outline here

4. "i've loved you for so long" | hwang hyunjin x fem!reader

You're taking me back, babe, to where it all started, wearing your hair up in your New York apartment, I swear, I've loved you for so long, I'd do it again and again and again and again, baby

author's note: okay so fun fact the left photo in this header is actually a pic of a picnic i went on with my friend that i took off my pinterest (ee if you wanna look at it here's the link! my pinterest is my pride and joy). i've had this fic in my drafts for ages, i adore this song and it feels SO undeniably hyunjin, i hope you enjoy!!

There were always questions as to how a broke artist afforded an apartment in New York City.

You had reasons. You worked almost every possible hour outside of the studio at a local coffee shop, and had sold several of your favourite possessions, including your prized guitar handed down from your mother. You worked hard for what you had, and you appreciated it more so that way.

That’s always how it had been. You worked hard enough for something, you’d eventually get there.

Hwang Hyunjin came from a wealthier background and also lived in an apartment in New York City, albeit much more beautiful than yours. He was beautiful, and not in any way snobby as you’d expect. He felt very deeply, and translated it into his artwork. 

He knew that if he wanted something, he’d get it, reasonably quickly. But he didn’t like things that way. 

He loved the anticipation, the slow burn, the pining and wishing and hoping, which was exactly how he felt about you.

He didn’t want his own expensive personal studio. He used the local art space, which was available to rent for a few hours each day. That was where he first saw you. All of you.

You and your posture that gave you back aches when you sat sketching for too long, the way you bit your lip when you were deep in thought, your habit of tucking your hair behind your ears only for it to flop forward again within the next few seconds. He was fascinated by you, but he preferred admiring from a distance for the moment. He didn’t want to push forward or scare you away.

You thought he was one of the prettiest people you’d seen. He seemed so comfortable with his masculinity that he wasn’t afraid to step into his feminine side, wearing his hair a little longer, dressing a little more form-fitting. His lips were plush and sometimes scarred from where he nibbled on them, and he had brown eyes, so dark yet so warm, as if they’d melt you if you stared into them for a little too long.

It wasn’t as if you ever shared a conversation before he left New York. Even though you spent a lot of time together, it was comfortable silence. You sat, on opposite ends of the studio, working on your projects, trying to avoid catching each others eyes. One time though, when you walked past to go wash your paintbrush, you accidentally brushed against him, and he noticed.

The way your cheeks flushed, and your small smile.

Hwang Hyunjin didn’t expect his life to bring him back to New York City, although perhaps a part of him had always hoped it would.

He’d spent years travelling Europe, visiting art galleries and staying in beautiful apartments and villas, swimming in the ocean in the summer and taking photos of the mountains in the winter. He was inspired constantly, and filled his life with art, food, gorgeous views and wine.

He’d gotten to a point in his life where it was expected he would be married, or at least have entered a long-term relationship. Although he met some of the prettiest people he’d ever seen, he never pursued further than dinner and a kiss on the cheek. 

He thought about you, and the way your cheeks flushed, and your small smile.

Your hair, piled up on your head in a way that was not at all structurally sound, letting fronds flop into your eyes and around your neck and collarbone.

He returned to New York a little while after he’d stayed in Paris, and spent time looking for an apartment. He’d been connected with a real estate agent, one that sold high-end apartments uptown. He decided to walk up instead of catching a taxi, and whilst walking past the studio where you’d first seen each other, he saw an advert in the window.

You were looking for a roommate, and applications were due by 5pm.

You stood on the other side of the apartment, your hair pulled up with a piece of blue-and-white gingham ribbon, taken off the wrapping of the book Hyunjin had bought you for your birthday. You wore a long denim skirt and pale yellow bralette, with lace around the edges and a soft pattern of tiny lemons across it, with one of Hyunjin’s white linen shirts over the top, unbuttoned and blowing in the wind that came through the opened window in the kitchen.

Hyunjin lay still in bed, flat on his stomach, admiring you from afar the way he always did. Even after two years, where all he’d done was live, breathe and love you, there were moments where he liked to remember how he’d fallen for you in the first place.

There were also moments where he wanted to be as close to you as possible. He shifted off the bed and walked over, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his face into your hair.

“Did you want to go out today?” he mumbled into your hair. “I feel bad that we stayed at home all day again; there’s not much point to weekends if we don’t do anything, is there?”

You looked up at him. “I didn’t really want to. I prefer being at home, anyway.”

“Good, because I didn’t want to either,” he smiled, pressing a kiss onto your shoulder. “Even though we don’t talk all the time…”

“I like our silence. We don’t feel like we have to say anything,” you finished, turning yourself around from where you were facing the kitchen bench and placing your arms around his waist. He shifted his to your shoulders, and pulled you in close, so you were flush against his chest.

“I’ve loved you for so long,” Hyunjin murmured, his forehead against yours, noses touching.

“You don’t just say it,” you whispered. “You show it. And that’s even more beautiful, I think.”

“I’ve loved you since I first saw you. And I know that you know, but I just want to remind you, that you’re what I’ve dreamed of for so long, and what I’ve wanted without realising.”

“You talk a lot sometimes, my love.”

“I mean everything I say. I like to talk about you. I like to talk to you.”

You cupped his face with your hands and brought your lips to his.

taglist: @hyunjiiza @velvetmoonlght @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @btch8008s @yaniluvs @ellemir2404 @bellarellasstuff @starsinagreenskyxx @ashtxrie @pigeonseatmayo @modesttiger @woozarts - comment, dm or send an ask to be added!

[ki-kink]

Hi. I've been interested in the wereteenager theme and in particular in the transformation, but I have trouble imagining it. It seems to be gradual and has various phases. Is there a precise sequence in the physical changes? How do fat mass and muscle mass change in the various parts of the body? Is it painful? What thoughts or images form in your mind during the various phases? In short, if we were to shoot a scene from a film that represents it in its entirety, like the one in "An American Werewolf in London", how should we imagine it.

There is no photographic or even filmed documentation. What I have found is this protocol of a patient. Sorry, that's all I know….

22:00: Photo for the transformation protocol is taken. It's the usual feeling before a Friday night. Anxiety. Anticipation. In any case, it's a strange feeling.

06:00: The alarm clock wasn't actually supposed to ring for another 20 minutes. But like almost every Friday, I'm woken up by an incredible morning erection. Like almost every Friday morning, I also had a wet dream. I have to make up the bed.

06:30: To get rid of the erection, I masturbated in the bathroom. It didn't take long to ejaculate. The plan to measure the amount once didn't work out again as I spread my sperm uncontrollably around the bathroom. My testicles are covered in soft fuzz, as is my upper lip.

07:30: After showering, I had to masturbate a second time. I have the feeling that the ejaculation was stronger than the first one. Although I'm freshly showered, I already smell of sweat under my armpits again. My armpit hair is much bushier than usual.

09:30: The morning board at Teams was torture. I find it hard to concentrate. Especially when Luke is in a call. He looks incredibly hot. I have a steadfast erection and a wet precum stain in my pants.

12:00: The morning has been exhausting. I'm finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate. To be honest, I've been online most of the time. Watching football scores, TikTok, Instagram… My colleagues went out for a salad. I had such a craving for a burger. I went to a burger joint around the corner. There were three hot high school jocks sitting at a table. I asked if I could sit with them. The looks were a mixture of disgusted and amused.

2:00 p.m.: Had to jerk off, couldn't help myself. Fantasized about standing in the shower with the guys from the burger joint after a soccer training session. When I washed my hands afterwards, I looked in the mirror. Despite shaving this morning, there's already beard fuzz on my upper lip again. But apart from that, my reflection pisses me off. That's not me. I'm not an old man.

4:30 p.m.: End of work. At last. On the subway, I see that I'm wearing my worn-out Chucks. It's a good thing none of my colleagues saw. The sun will set in a good hour. I still have no idea what I'm going to do tonight. There's not much pocket money left. Shit, I have to piss. Good thing I have to go out next stop.

4:35 pm: Yo, I'm at the station loo, takin' a leak. Bro, my dude: Däng! This thing's rock hard, like a baseball bat, no joke! My whole body's shakin', but not 'cause it's chilly. More like when you're doin’ your thing on the QB's ass. Man, my bladder was about to explode. Piss everywhere—looked like I got sprayed. Had to swap my threads. Good thing we got football practice today, right?

4:42 pm: I'm at the sink in my jersey and shorts, checkin' my hair, feelin' fresh. Then this dude sneaks up behind me, crazy eyes and all. His hand's on my junk, and he’s old—like 30 or somethin'. Just goes “50”. Bro, 50 bucks for a blowie?! Jackpot! This night is gonna be lit!

02:00 am: Dude, I'm so lit right now! Almost forgot that damn control pic. But the team doc and coach need it, I think. Gotta hit up that skater dude I met at the club. Total lean machine, dude’s got stamina, and an epic cock! Let’s go!

[spiderb00]

hey, baby

Can we get some thoughts/headcanons on Yoonchae and Eve's friendship/relationship.

I feel like Yoonchae would be the jealous one 'cause she's spoiled af (just like Dani) and Evelyn would be the protective one.

Yoonchae would be the one who strats a fight and Eve would be the type of person to end and win them.

I think they would gossip in korean so no one understands them.

Also, Yoonchae would be the one who always does her homework on time and Eve would be like: "What homework?"

–<3

BABY!! I'M SO EXCITED TO START THE SAGA OF THESE TWO, let's go...

I don't even know where to start to talk about these two, but I think the fact that Evie broke a guy's nose is a good start. In fact, that's how the two of them actually got closer. Evie had known Yoonchae before, but they weren't friends, they had a very formal relationship.

It was only when Eve defended Yoonchae from a bully at school, that the two really started to hit it off and then when you least expect it, BOOM, they're glued together 24/7.

After that day, Yoonchae didn't leave the Korean girl anymore, they became best friends first and foremost.

In the breaks, you'd see the two of them arm-in-arm through the halls of the school (More like Yoonchae hanging from Evie's arm), pacing back and forth, gossiping about everyone, but only in Korean so no one would understand them (not that anyone was willing to get into a fight with Evie over it).

If Yoonchae was already spoiled by the Kats and the Kats' girlfriends, she experienced another type of treatment at school. The girl simply became untouchable.

Of course, Yoonchae wasn't rude to anyone, always being friendly and polite to everyone. But the jokes of the idiot boys and invasive requests for photos and autographs went away as soon as Katseye's maknae settled into Evelyn's arms.

Everyone in that building knew who Evelyn Jane was, and only had two options when it came to the Korean girl, either you loved her, or you feared for your life.

Yoonchae saw both sides of the thing, it was nice to know that someone would protect her at all costs. Everyone at that school knew that Evie knew how to fight and as cruel as she was, Yoonchae loved the fact that people faltered just hearing her girlfriend's name.

But on the contrary, Yoonchae couldn't help but burn in her chest every time any of the girls in her class approached her to ask if Evie was single, or if Yoonchae could give them Eve's number.

To Yoonchip's relief, Evie didn't seem to care much for people other than her at that school. In fact, Yoonchae finally understood why the principal asked Evelyn to accompany her with her studies.

Evie was simply a machine, she got A's in all subjects, her lowest grade being an A-. The maknae could never understand how Evie was so willing to go to school.

Despite everything, Eve always reminded Yoonchae to put her feet on the ground, after all, the two had lives exposed in the spotlight, Yoonchae on stage and Evelyn on the catwalks.

But no matter how much Evelyn said, it was always the same dialogue.

"Did you do your biology homework? We have to deliver that today." Evie said, carefully reviewing the material in her hands.

"Homework? What homework?" Yoonchae asked, making the girl next to her sigh, slapping her hand on her forehead.

"Really, Yoonchae? I texted you last night."

"Hey, don't call me by my name!" Yoonchae said, pointing a finger at Evie, trying to punctuate her speech.

"Give me your notebook, you little gnome."

"Hey!"

[heartbeerry]

i got a soft spot for you: part three

pairing: rafe cameron x female reader | exes to lovers

part one / part two / part three (end)

cw: brief mentions of alcohol/substance abuse.

inspiration: soft spot by keshi

♫ don't like anybody, tell me why it's different with you

don't believe in love, but no one makes me feel like you do... ♫

. . .

the following morning

sunlight poured into rafe’s bedroom, stirring him from a restless sleep.

the remnants of his dream flittered behind his eyes, glimpses of you played on like his own personal film.

you teaching rafe how to bake your favourite cookies. staying up all night on your roof to stargaze. that road trip you took to the west coast.

your last kiss . . .

if rafe thought hard enough, he could still feel your lips on his. the scent of your perfume. the adoring look in your eyes.

he turned onto his side, shying away from the light of day.

his heart felt heavy, his mind weighed down by his encounter with you the night before. he lazily opened his eyes.

on impulse, he slid his hand underneath the adjacent pillow. the side where you always slept.

under it, stashed safely away, was a framed photo of the two of you from your first date. rafe had taken you sailing. he had been so excited that he woke up at sunrise to wax his boat.

the photo showed you tucked under his arm as you blew a kiss into the camera. rafe hadn't bothered to look into the lens, instead keeping his eyes trained on you.

he could recite everything that happened on that date, it was one of his favourite memories after all. that day had been the beginning of you.

rafe sat up and brought his body to the edge of the bed, frame still in hand. a ghost of a smile played on his lips as he willed time to reverse so that he could spend this day with you again.

a deafening knock at the door made rafe nearly jump out of his skin.

unfortunately, the shock was enough for his grip to falter, sending the frame tumbling to the hardwood floor.

“shit.”

he groaned at the sight of the fractured pieces laying at at his feet.

“rafe! are you up yet? it’s almost noon - ” sarah cameron’s voice chimed, the bedroom door swinging open. she stilled, her gaze surveying the scene in front of her.

rafe was on his knees, tenderly picking up the shards of glass.

realization dawned on sarah when she saw the photograph of you and rafe clasped between his fingers. her heart broke for him.

despite the troubled past between rafe and herself, sarah had always held a part of you close. you were like the big sister she never had.

“oh god. i’m sorry, did i startle you?” the worry in sarah’s voice was enough to bring rafe back to reality.

on the path to becoming a better person, he was also working towards repairing the relationships with his younger sisters.

become a better person for himself. for his family. for you.

“uhm, no it’s okay. i just…” rafe didn’t know how to finish the sentence. a hard lump was unexpectedly forming in his throat.

with light trepidation, sarah entered the bedroom, her eyes filled with empathy.

“do you,” she hesitated, leaning against rafe’s wardrobe. “wanna talk about it?” she could see the turmoil brewing in his eyes.

“i saw y/n last night,” rafe announced. “at the sandbar.”

sarah’s eyes widened in response.

“wait, you went out drinking?”

rafe carefully placed your photo on his nightstand before turning to sarah, the mess momentarily forgotten.

“no,” he pushed out an exasperated breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “the guys dragged me out. i didn’t drink, promise.”

relief flooded sarah as she motioned for him to continue.

“i saw y/n… dancing with this little jackass who ended up insulting her in front of me and — “

“woah! you got in a fight?” she interrupted once more.

rafe brought his palm to his forehead before running it down his face.

“no, sarah. i was just there… ya know, if she needed me. she told him off,” rafe finished, finally casting a sidelong glance at his sister.

“so, you basically just looked like a complete fool,” sarah hummed, holding up a finger to signal she’d be back in a second.

rafe groaned and plopped back onto his bed.

he was the absolute biggest fool.

seconds later, sarah returned with a broom and dust pan. she padded over to the broken glass and opted to sweep it up.

“god,” rafe let out a breath. “i wish i could just see her again. i couldn’t even get one coherent sentence out.”

sarah finished cleaning, tossing the contents of the dust pan into the waste basket found in the corner, before settling down next to rafe.

“look,” she mulled over the pep talk in her head.

“i get that. you regret squandering your one opportunity to speak with her. but who is to say you won’t get another?” she quirked an eyebrow.

rafe grunted, the notion feeling impossible.

“you have been doing so well these past few months, rafe,” sarah said earnestly.

the sincerity in her voice made rafe turn to her, slightly amazed at her honesty.

“i can see how hard you’re trying,” she continued. “when it comes to y/n, you need to make sure you’re doing it for the right reasons — not just because you miss her. but because you want to improve and grow, for the both of you.”

“this is not about just missing her,” rafe’s voice wavered as he pieced together his words. it's as if he was finally gaining the clarity he needed.

“i want to be the one she can rely on, the one she feels safe with, the one she feels proud of. i don’t think there are enough lifetimes to right my wrongs but i’ll spend this one doing everything i can to show her how much i fucking love — ”

“i’ve never heard you say you love me.”

and when it finally dawned on rafe cameron, his world splintered.

because before you, rafe didn’t believe in love. until you, no one else could make him feel such a way.

how on earth could he expect you to know he loved you if he never found the courage to say it?

that he was irrevocably, unequivocally in love with you.

he was thrust back onto his porch, on that gloomy morning as you stood opposite to him with your whole life packed up. your life with him.

“. . . her,” rafe finished his sentence in the softest of whispers, sarah had to crane her neck to catch it. his eyes were brimming with a fresh swell of tears.

sarah's face softened, feeling an overwhelming sense to hug her brother. so, for the first time in a long time, she embraced him.

taken aback, rafe cleared his throat and lightly patted her on the shoulder. they stayed like that for just a few seconds before he pulled away, a plan forming in his mind.

“sarah… do you think you’d be able to help me — ” rafe didn’t finish, because sarah had already leapt from the bed in excitement.

“profess your love? oh most definitely.”

one week later

your latte had grown cold, left neglected on the corner table you occupied outside your favourite café.

the sun was setting and you had been perched on the patio for a few hours now, trying to read.

the words seemed to float off the page and you couldn’t process where you were in the plot, your mind preoccupied with a familiar pair of blue eyes.

seeing rafe for the first time since your breakup had left you dizzy with emotion. you had held your guard up for so long... afraid of facing your feelings.

with each passing day, the gnawing sensation in your stomach grew, a persistent reminder of how you had spoken to him. the words you'd tossed at him in frustration now felt harsher than you intended, leaving your wounds to split open.

he had told you he was getting better. it sounded so real, so true. maybe you should have at least given him an opportunity to prove it.

the way he had looked at you that night, it stirred something deep within you. he had regarded you with so much yearning and yet...

you groaned, circling your fingertips into your temples.

even after everything; the lies and broken trust, the way things ended so abruptly — you couldn’t deny the tether that tied you to him.

he had a certain knack for making you feel like the world weighed just a little lighter, as if he would hold up the sky just for you.

deep in thought, you hadn’t realized that your phone was ringing.

you hurried to pick up the call before your voicemail did, not bothering to look at the caller id.

“hello?”

you heard weeping on the other end.

“y/n? hey. i’m so sorry — i just didn’t know who else to call,” sarah cameron spoke in between sobs.

“sarah? are you okay — what’s wrong?” you clambered to your feet, shoving your belongings into your tote bag.

“i got into a fight with john b,” she choked out, the phone cracking with feedback. “can i see you, please?”

slapping a few bills on the table, you exited the café and stepped into the street.

“yes, of course. where are you? i’ll come to you.” you said soothingly.

“i’m just at the marina,” sarah replied.

“the marina? i’m actually pretty close. i’ll see you soon, okay? did you want me to stay on the line — ” your question was cut short by the dial tone.

worry rose within you, so you decided to pick up the pace and broke into a light jog.

-

the sun had dipped under the horizon by the time you reached the marina.

you meandered down the dock, eyes scanning the boats bobbing in the water.

you grabbed your phone from your back pocket, calling sarah again.

as the phone rang, you spotted a a source of light emulating from the end of the row. could that be her?

she picked up on the fourth ring as you decided to make your way towards the glow.

“hey, i’m here! where are you?”

“y/n, i’m sorry,” sarah replied, voice free of any trace of tears. “i’m okay. there was no fight, i just needed you to head down to the docks for something…” sarah paused. “important.”

the call ended before you could respond. bringing the phone down from your ear, a wave of relief rolled over you at the confirmation sarah was okay but...

you felt absolutely silly, barking out a disbelieving laugh.

"these camerons are going to send me to an early grave," you begin pacing, mumbling incoherently. "i swear to everything, the heart palpitations alone, i just - "

your baffled mirthlessness warped into puzzlement when, out of nowhere, you began to hear the notes of your favourite song play.

"okay, i was joking about the early grave, please tell me no one is going to jump out and pull a chainsaw on me," you laughed humourlessly, balling your hands into fists... just in case.

"i knew that texas chainsaw massacre marathon would haunt you for the rest of your days," a silhouette emerged a few feet in front of you, one you had grown to recognize instantly.

your shoulders shrank in relief, yet your face burned with abashment.

“rafe…” you exhaled, your heart thrumming in your chest. "what are you doing here?"

he was wearing a fitted blue long-sleeve tee and straight cut jeans. leave it to him to look effortlessly cool while you were being reduced to a puddle.

you held his intense gaze before his eyes raked over you, a glimmer of hope hidden there.

“y/n… i’m sorry,” he said, taking a step towards you. you were rooted in place, feeling the force drawing you into him.

“i wasn't sure how i could get you here. i asked for sarah's help but i didn’t think she was going to be so - ”

“dramatic?” you finished with a snort. rafe’s eyebrows rose in amusement at the ease of which you were conversing.

a beat passed. you cleared your throat.

noticing your hesitation, rafe extended his hand to you, his gaze pleading.

"i know i don't deserve it... but could you please follow me? i have a surprise for you."

his outstretched hand hovered between you. the pull in your chest willed you to take it.

you made the decision to hear him out, the look on his face reason enough.

rafe intertwined your fingers, relishing in the warmth of your touch, before leading you towards the light that had caught your eye when you first arrived.

by the time you reached the end of the dock, nothing could have prepared you for the scene that unfolded before you.

rafe's sailboat had been transformed.

a plethora of winding fairy lights crawled up the mast and rafe had even woven your favourite flowers into the strands.

a stereo sat on the deck playing the playlist you made for rafe when you first started dating. next to it, a plush blanket was rolled out, and covering it was an abundant spread of all your preferred foods, drinks and sweets.

to top it all off, as if this couldn't possibly get any more romantic, rafe had strung all of the film you had taken of yourselves during your time together along the boat's railing.

you hadn't realized you had dropped rafe's hand to cover your gaping mouth. he seized this moment to hop down onto the deck, guiding you to follow suit.

once you did, still speechless, he motioned for you to sit down on the blanket. he fell to his knees in front of you, taking a shaky breath.

tears prickled your eyes as he cleared his throat, a bid of determination shone in his features.

"y/n. you know i'm not one for words," he started, giving you a lopsided grin to ease the tension.

"but i'm going to try my best, for you. i think... i think i want to first tell you that i'm clean. i have been since we..." he stalled. "i meant what i said outside the bar. i am better."

"why did it take us breaking up to make you finally get clean, rafe?" you croaked, feeling betrayed by the quiver in your voice.

"no, no, baby. please don't even think of blaming yourself." he corrected. "the break up tore me apart. i felt utterly lost without you. i had a major wakeup call... where i finally realized what i was putting you through. i pushed you away constantly when you were just trying to help. for that, i would crawl on my hands and knees apologizing for until we die."

rafe paused to read your face.

"and even after that, into the next life." he brushed the pad of his thumb across your cheek, a silent tear having escaped your eye.

you nodded, your resolve evaporating. the vulnerability of rafe's voice, the raw honesty he was baring, set your heart alight.

he was mere inches from your face, leveling your gaze.

"and y/n?" he continued, voice thick with fervour.

"i know there are things i can't take back, no matter how deeply I wish i could. all those broken promises will act as a reminder for me to do better by you each and everyday. but i will make one vow to you now. i promise… i want to be by your side, and i have no intention of ever leaving."

you stilled, transfixed by his confession.

"god, y/n. you've got me wrapped around your finger," rafe moves his hands to cup your face. "you've changed my heart. it's all yours."

you lean into him, your need to be close overwhelming.

"i am so fucking in love with you."

somehow, rafe cameron finds a way to top every sentence.

"i have been since i first took you out on this sailboat. i'm an idiot for never telling you before."

a beat passes before he presses his forehead to yours.

"what i said that morning. i was hurt... you never said it, but i knew you loved me," you whispered before you felt his shoulders drop with bewildered relief.

if he angled his head, his lips would meet yours. he was letting you decide. before you put him out of his misery, you released a gentle breath.

"i saw it in the way you hid cute notes around the house telling me how pretty i am, remembering the plot of the book i was reading. hell, even leaving an umbrella by the door on a rainy day cause you knew i would forget to check the weather."

he chuckled, pulling away briefly to catch the twinkle in your eye.

“and now this?” you gestured to the dazzling lights and photos. “i love you, rafe."

and that was all he needed.

rafe captured your lips in his and the world righted itself.

you instinctively brought your hands to drape around his neck, pulling him into you. he hummed against your mouth as you moved in sync, savouring the taste of him.

your heart was brimming with happiness. with a new promise.

soon, you were both panting as he pulled away. his lips were swollen and his cheeks flushed.

at that moment, you fell just a little more in love with the man in front of you, if that was even possible.

rafe broke out into the widest smile and you returned it with one to match.

"y/n, i've got such a soft spot for you."

- the end -

taglist: @drewsphswife @drewwhor @emmafitzzz @despressoslatte

a/n: hello! so sorry for the slow update on the final part. i didn’t like the first draft i had written up, so i decided to change it. i hope that this is a conclusion you all enjoy! this is the first fan fiction i’ve posted to tumblr, and my return to writing more frequently. thank you all for the support i’ve received on this story so far!

p.s: i attempted to tag a few people that left kind comments on my previous posts, so hopefully that works! i’m still learning how to use this app. 🙂‍↕️

[satureja13]

Sai: "I thought you cleaned up already? Why is the photo booth still blocking the entrance to the crew mess? We can barely squeeze ourselves past it. And after eating it's even harder!" Jack: "But we still haven't taken the photos! It was all so chaotic after the New Year's fires..."

Jack, pondered for a while: "We'll take them now. And then Kiyoshi and I will dismantle the booth right after in our free time. Deal?" Sai sighed, but still - some alone-time with Jeb in a dark, tiny booth... "Ok, deal. Let's call the others."

Jeb: "Ok, Ji Ho and Vlad first." Ji Ho and Vlad: "..." Sai mumbling only for Jeb's ears: "Before they change their mind. Clever move."

Vlad went inside immediately. He'd promised Jack to not hold back anymore when it comes to Ji Ho. Ji Ho was hesistant. But eventually he followed Vlad inside. Jeb was relieved: "Phew."

Seems they aren't happy with the results ö.ö

Next couple in the booth are Jack and Kiyoshi.

When Kiyoshi saw that the others hat put Vlad and Ji Ho's photo on the wall: "Uhm... I guess we have to take another shot. These are too...eh..."

Jack: "What? You look super hot!" Kiyoshi: "You too - but we should keep these for our eyes only. Let's take some 'tamer' ones for the photo wall." And so they went back inside.

Jack: "We can take more of the hotter ones later, before we disassemble the booth, hm?" Kiyoshi nodded happily. This feels like a dream. And even after all those years, Kiyoshi is still a bit shy :3 And so in love with Jack.

Who would have thought they'd ever come this far? (To be honest, not even I expected this ö.ö)

(I also love this hairstyle on Kioyshi. He now changed it to all of his outfits. As far as I remember, the first time we saw him with this hairstyle was September 2024 for the Reaper's Rewards outfit.)

Sai hissed. He is eager to finally have the booth for him and Jeb after all the sounds they'd heard from Jack and Kiyoshi...

As it seems Jeb didn't disappoint :3

Finally, the photos!

Ji Ho must have still been mad at Vlad for asking him if Kylo touched him ö.Ö'

It was late. Time to get back to work/sleep. Skully was sitting on his substitute book pile since the original one fell victim to the flames. They are still sorting through the backup files of all the stuff they'd collected about the Boys...

After dinner, Jack and Kiyoshi came back to dismantle the photo booth. But before, they are taking some more photos.

I'm so happy for them <3

Skully interrupted his paperwork to play a matching song for them:

'For your eyes only, can see me through the night. For your eyes only, I never need to hide. You can see so much in me, so much in me that's new. I never felt until I looked at you. For your eyes only, only for you. You'll see what no one else can see, and now I'm breaking free. For your eyes only, only for you. The love I know you need in me, the fantasy you've freed in me. Only for you, only for you.

For your eyes only, the nights are never cold. You really know me, that's all I need to know. Maybe I'm an open book because I know you're mine, But you won't need to read between the lines. For your eyes only, only for you. You see what no one else can see, and now I'm breaking free. For your eyes only, only for you. The passions that collide in me, the wild abandoned side of me. Only for you, for your eyes only.'

Sheena Easton - For your Eyes only linked MV is with scenes from the James Bond movie 'For your Eyes only'. This song was the title track (obviously ^^').

After they finished 'taking photos', Jack stepped out of the booth on shaky legs and said (a bit breathless): "Good choice! I love this song." Skully: "Thanks, Pal!"

And then they started to dismantle the photo booth. Which was a shame. It was so much fun...

From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

Current Chapter: starts ▶️ here Last Chapter: 'Here comes the Sun' from the beginning ▶️ here

📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 23-29

[raspalace]

Ra’s Palace

Hello, this is my very first story and I’m excited to share it with you all. I have had a lot of inspiration from past TF writers and current ones. I would like to say thank you to @bizzhideaway and two of my friends for helping me with this story. I hope y’all enjoy! :)

—————————————————-

It was the night of Halloween and as a 21 year old grad student, I was looking forward to having a night to escape from the stress; a simple night. When I came to the party, I noticed the amount of individuals participating in black face and immediately felt uncomfortable; without hearing a single excuse or plea, I left to explore the town.

Since moving to this university for grad school, I haven’t had time to see what this town was like or the history of it. While in my thoughts, I precariously walked to an area of the abandoned downtown. It wasn’t until lightning struck and rain started to pour that I noticed the door to an abandoned rundown hotel was opened and I decided to go in to escape the harsh weather. The lobby had an eerie aura to it with furniture that was covered in cobwebs and the floor was white from the collection of dust. How long has this place been here? I wondered and walked over to the check in desk that was also a bar, checking the rusted logbook and seeing that the last check in was 50 years ago.

I closed the book and went to explore the lobby some more, finding a picture of the hotel’s owner. It was a handsome Arabic male that went by the name Rasheem Ahmir. I pulled out my phone to see if I could look the man up but my phone lacked reception. I looked up at the picture once more and chuckled a bit, “I wish I could learn about you and what caused your hotel to end.” Lightning struck and a roar of thunder followed, causing me to look back at the entry doors before I turned back to the photo and saw that the man was no longer there.

“What the hell?” I asked aloud and started to head over to the picture until the doors to another room flew open and banged against the walls. I knew that I should have left then and there, but something was telling me to investigate and so, I cautiously walked to the doors and saw that it led into a theater room. As soon as I walked in, the doors quickly shut and the screen began counting down from three to one. I grabbed a seat in the front row in the center and was surprised at how comfortable the seats were even though they were old.

The video began and explained how Rasheem grew up in the Middle East as a child before moving to the states in hopes for a new beginning in the American Dream. Unfortunately, he was met with racism and anguish towards him and his community, but that didn’t stop him from working hard and eventually opening up his own hotel, Rasheem’s Caravanserai. A place where people of all likes can rest and network with each other to expand their businesses. Rasheem started a family with his African wife and their son and their community was growing and prospering as the buildings on the block being used for businesses from cultures around the world, but the video suddenly cuts to the hotel and other buildings being on fire with no police or firefighters in sight to help the civilians or put out the fire; the video ends.

I wiped a tear from my eye and clapped in the empty theater. “I’m sorry for your loss, Mr. Ahmir but you created a welcoming community and I applaud you for that. I wish I could see what this block was like in action. If I could avenge your sacrifice and death, I would.” I spoke, thinking there wouldn’t be a response, but I thought wrong as a question popped onto the screen.

‘Is that so?’ It said as the screen began to flicker.

“Uh…yea, I understand being in a community that prospers, but ends in despair.” I responded and looked around the room to see if there was a person or spirit but there was no one. The screen turned off and the room was dark; I would be lying if I said I wasn’t scared. Moments sitting in a dark unfamiliar room peaked my anxiety as I began to hyperventilate in the chair with my legs numb.

The screen flashed on and I noticed that I was naked in the chair which caused an immediate panic, trying to force myself out of the chair but my body wasn’t listening to my commands. A spinning spiral appeared and my eyes fixed on to it as a thick musk smell flooded in through the vents.

You are being made anew. Relax and breathe.

Getting out of a panic attack would usually take me hours but I found my heartbeat slowed to a normal pace as I took deep breaths, inhaling more of the smelly air into my system. Moans began playing off of the speakers as the spiral continued and I blushed, feeling myself feel aroused and my pussy becoming wet.

“Fuck..” I spoke lowly as my body began grinding my pussy against the fabric in the chair, my juices soaking it. The musk in the air became thick and I tried to cover my nose from the pungent smell but I still couldn’t move on my own.

You are a man.

I raised an eyebrow at the next prompt and let out a soft laugh. “I’m not a man, I couldn’t imagine being one.” With the spiral still present, the screen showed videos of Arabian men working or playing sports while shirtless. Their muscular build covered in body hair, their sharp faces, and pronounced bulges added to my arousal as I felt a hand play with my clit and the lips to my leaking pussy. I moaned loudly as my eyes were transfixed on the screen and my mind fogged from arousal and the thick smell.

You are a man.

You have always been a man.

You spend a lot of time around other men.

I knew that I should be protesting against the suggestions, but memories of using male pronouns and others referring to me as a male flooded my mind. My small, delicate feet grew from size 6 in women’s to size 10 ½ in men’s, the once soft skin becoming calloused from days running. My thighs and calves spasmed as they grew in muscle and fat from the heavy deadlifting in the gym.

A pair of cold hands groped my breasts and teased my nipples as my breasts grew busty before forming into thick bouncy pectorals with sensitive nipples to compliment them as my shoulders broadened to help support the new weight and my back stretched causing my height to change from 5’3” to 5’10”. My stomach grew hot as defined cum gutters appeared in a six pack and my curves softened into a more defined silhouette, my hips narrowing and my waist tightening.

My arms and hands were next as muscles protruded underneath my skin; biceps and triceps growing big as footballs and my hands became larger with thicker calloused fingers, my nicely trimmed fingernails became rugged and chipped. My pussy leaking like a faucet from the new set of muscles and strength. My neck became thick with an expanding vocal cord as my moans cracked in pitch before it stayed at a baritone range. My hair shortened into a buzz cut as bones in my face cracked and shifted, developing sharper cheekbones and a more angular face yet I could grow more plump than before. ‘But what for-’

My thought was cut off as a hand rammed into my pussy and I groaned loudly as my ovaries were slowly pulled out of me, thick wet testicles now hanging between my legs. I squirmed in the seat as my clitoris adjusted its position and grew to an average 5 inches. The groping, wandering hands let go of my body as I panted heavily and looked down at my new body.

“Th-this can’t be happening!” I yell in shock before my eyes were pulled back to the screen.

This is your body. This has always been your body.

As foggy as my mind was, a pain struck and memories of going out dress shopping and getting periods were replaced with wearing suits and spending time in the gym. With a shake of my mind, I am convinced that I’ve always been a man and have known no other life.

You are your mother and father’s son.

‘Mother and father’ I think to myself as my mind couldn’t pull an image for them while my skin tone shifted subtly, taking on a lighter tone with a rich golden undertone and my eyes lightened to a soft blue. My jawline became more defined as my cheekbones elevated, freckles painted my face as tight curls grew from my scalp. My ass became thick with fat, a gift from my mother, which caused the seat to groan and dent inwards. Dark body hair covered my torso, legs, arms and pits while lightly dusting my arms and ass.

You are your father’s BOY.

This is your HOME.

‘Boy’ rang through my mind as I continued to think of my parents and images of Rasheem and his wife – no, my mother, Nakia. Memories of living in the hotel as my father worked endlessly and my mother entertained guests with her voice and song. With every memory, the hotel became alive with a clean atmosphere and lively architecture and lightning. The screen became modern and the seats became reclining armchairs; my chair reclined with my legs lifted as the theater lights dimly lit. Unfortunately, my mother died and I took on more responsibility when I was 21– wait.

“I am 21, what do I mean when I was?” I asked as I snapped out of the fog and noticed that my body was covered in a maroon suit that tightly sculpted my muscles and juicy ass; the sight caused my dick to rise.

You are my boy, my good old boy.

The words were not only popping on the screen but along with the moans, the speakers announced the words in my father’s deep voice. ‘Boy’. Once again it bounced through my mind as I thought hard to understand why.

You are DUMB.

I felt a sharp pain in my temple. I still wanted to help this ghost, my father but I didn’t want to be an airhead. “I’m not dumb I’m graduating from graduate school next week!”

You are DUMB. No university, no education outside from mother and I

You enjoy WORKING OUT

You enjoy SEX

SIMPLE LIFE.

Be a good OLD DUMB BOY.

With the freedom to move my hands and arms, I gripped my head. I had always prided myself on my sharp mind, quick wit, and deep understanding of complex topics. Yet, those qualities began to vanish as a deep fog clouded my mind once more. My once-vibrant thoughts were dulled by the heaviness that settled in and my ability to analyze and process information faded and my speech became simpler and fragmented, enjoying simplicity over deep discussion. I let out a low guffaw as my lips parted to forever stay open and eyes dulled. Recollection of sports trophies and barely understanding the teachings from my father and mother replaced academic awards and groundbreaking seminars. My ambitions to become a world shattering businessman dwindled to staying in my hometown and reopening the hotel, working out and fucking in my free time; I might even try to fuck while working. I was the owner of the hotel after all.

With this acceptance, a rush of tingling coursed through my body as my smooth skin gradually developed fine lines, crow’s feet forming at the corners of my eyes. My vibrant complexion gave way to a more weathered texture as my jawline grew stronger yet softer with age as a luscious beard covered them and my hairline receded. My posture shifted as my back straightened from experience and wisdom yet my muscles grew in size and definition, instead of sagging, gasping for freedom against my clothes; my skin grew thicker as veins stood out more prominently on my hands and arms. My body hair grew wild and thick, dusting a salt and pepper color.

I wasn’t currently 21 aiming for a degree in business, I was 43 reopening the hotel from the insurance money that my parents saved and some of my life savings as well.

That’s my good BOY.

It finally hit me. When my mother passed while I was 21, I took on responsibilities that were my mother’s then some more. My father introduced a brothel as part of the hotel and it was mine to oversee. It was there that I flourished. It was there I became my father’s Baba’s boy. My dick grew to full mast while leaking precum into my trousers. Memories of Baba teaching me how to suck, fuck and be fucked as I became everyone’s first choice when they came to the brothel and I pleasured them all, some lasting a few minutes, others lasting hours. I palmed my erection while grinding my ass against the seat as my hole loosened from years of pounding.

You are now the man of the Ahmir family. You have the power to CHANGE others.

I groaned loudly as I arched my back from my throbbing dick pressed against the crotch of my trousers before I pulled it out. The screen played videos of group sex of men and women and I stroked my dick roughly, it grew to a girthy 11 inch and my balls hung low, becoming the size of oranges; thick bushy hair covered my balls and the base of my dick. A wave of electricity ran through my veins and a new sense of undiscovered power overwhelmed me.

The spiral quickened and the moans from the video grew louder.

You are DUMB.

Drool pours from the corner of my lips. My mind free from stress and real responsibility.

You like SEX.

Fucking men and women alike brought me pure pleasure. I wore only jockstraps as underwear.

You WORK OUT.

I had to stay in the gym to keep my body strong.

You are AFRO-ARAB.

Teachings from my parents about the similarities and differences of their cultures brought a deep connection and pride to my race and ethnicity, gaining knowledge of Arabic and Swahili languages while my English diminished to the basics and my American accent swept away with a guttural one.

You are RAFI AHMIR.

Ropes of cum decorated my suit and the chair as I let out a deep moan, panting from the best jerk off I’ve had in awhile. I chuckled to myself as I stood up and new foreskin grew from the shaft, the extra skin covering the head of my dick as it started to soften before placing it into my cum soaked jockstrap before cleaning myself up. I left the theater to find the hotel vibrant with up to date furniture and a mix of African and Arabic architecture, the thick musk scent filled the hotel yet I was used to it. I went behind the check in desk and bar and looked at the old logbook, waiting for the first guest victim to walk through the doors.

The bell rang as the door opened and I smiled.

“Welcome to Ra’s Palace!”

[hazeytae]

perv!roomates taesan & leehan who always sneak around and steal your stuff until one day you catch them and they corrupt you..

can i be 🧊 anon ~○~

had to have this marinate in my inbox for a lil bit bc when i got this ask i was GIGGLINGGG 😫 nd yes u can be 🧊 anon!! hi !!! :3

♡ dacryphilia, voyeurism (?), oral (mf), i will be making this into a full fic!! 😡 so much i wanna add to this

you first started noticing your things going missing only a few months into becoming roomates with taesan and leehan. small things like a worn pajama shirt, or panties you swore you put in the laundry hamper that you just havent seen since. sometimes theyd randomly appear right back in your drawers and youd be a little confused, but you just brushed it off as you mustve missed it while searching.

unbeknownst to you, your perverted roomates had gotten their hands on all your panties! taesan literally couldnt get enough of you !! he wanted you so bad, but unfortunately for him you were just roomates. he resorted to stealing your worn panties and other used garments. stroking his cock as hed bring your panties to his nose, taking in your scent which just made his dick harder. wrapping the fabric around his cock to bring him closer and closer to the edge. strings of your name falling out from his mouth like a song while ropes and ropes of white sticky cum soiled your panties. afterwards he felt so gross, but its not like youd ever find out- he'll just wash it and place in back in your drawer! also i feel like taesan would take pictures of you changing or in the shower, staring at the pictures before stealing your panties off the floor and running to his bedroom to jack off to the photos. he'd think about how pretty youd look taking his cock sooo deep into your throat, gagging and crying on his cock. you were an innocent doll to him, and your angel like face and those cute lacey panties you wore made him want to corrupt you into a perfect slut just for him.

(more undercut!)

on the other hand, leehan wouldnt be stealing your panties if it werent for taesan. leehan once caught taesan in the act, but instead of asking him what he was doing it just gave him an idea. slowly but surely more of your panties started to go missing, some not even returning. leehan wouldnt return them. he'd keep them in his drawer and he'd make sure not to cum on your panties so your scent wouldnt go away. and if your scent went away- he'd take another pair of your panties. leehan would even take your panties to his mouth, tongue swirling around the fabric while he took in your taste. leehan had been obsessed with you- ever since he saw your pretty face and heard your pretty moans through the thin walls. you were moaning out his name too, even your lewd moans of his name sounded so innocent to him; from that moment forward he knew he had to corrupt you.

you started to get frustrated- your cute, expensive underwear kept going missing! youve searched everywhere and the only places left were leehan and taesans rooms. with a sigh, you decided to check leehans room, thinking it mightve ended up in his laundry by accident. but as you rummaged through his drawers, you found your panties, wrinkled and stained. your face turned red as you quickly grabbed them. "w-was leehan... with my panties...?" you whine blushing at the thought, before rushing back to your room.

you suddenly heard a sharp cry of your name coming from taesans room, his voice trembling as if he were crying, or maybe whining? your innocent mind immediately assumed he was hurt and needed you. as you approached his room, the sound of staggered breaths grew louder, confirming your worries. “taesan, are you okay?” you called out, pushing the door open, only to be met with the sight of him with your panties wrapped around his cock while thick ropes of his cum spilled out onto them, making eye contact with you with that cocky smirk while you covered your blushing face. was he really doing this? not only was leehan taking your underwear, but so was taesan!

you felt a large figure slowly come behind you making you squeak, it was leehan. "t-taesan.. leehan- w-what is this?" you watch taesan as he walked towards you chuckling.

"you just noticed? you didnt know i was the one taking your little lacey panties?" taesan asked cupping your face with his hands, smirking at your red face. it wasnt unusual for taesan or leehan to be touchy with you, cupping your face or kissing your neck- but this was something else. your heart was racing and you had just watched taesan cum while moaning your name oh so beautifully.

leehan was giggling behind you, "cant believe you got caught taesan." he swiveled you around to face him "i saw you found all your panties. sorry for taking them." he ran his hands down your body making you shiver, you knew his apology wasnt true.

"y-you guys are perverts..." you whisper, suddenly getting shy with their hands all over your body, leehans hands slipping under your shirt rubbing your sides while taesans hands slipped under your waistband. you did want them- you wanted them really bad, just as bad as they wanted you. and they knew that. they knew that from how many times theyve heard you moan out their names while finger fucking yourself.

taesan took innovative to tug your shirt all the way off, "you dunno how long ive waited" he mumbled moving your hair to kiss and suck on your neck while he played with the waistband of your shorts. leehan looked down at you humming, "me too..." he mumbled before smashing his lips against yours while desperately tugging down your shorts and panties at once, making taesan chuckle at his desperation.

taesan picked you up, pulling you away from leehan and throwing you down onto his bed, "let me use you angel, let me make you mine." he mumbled crawling on top of you burying his face into your tits kissing and sucking. his pants had already been thrown onto the floor, making his boner painfully obvious. leehan whined coming in between your legs "taesan stop taking her from me!" he mumbled swiping his fingers across your folds feeling your wetness. "yah,, shes already so wet for us," he giggled kissing your clit gently. you felt so shy, practically bucking into leehans face while you watched taesan.

taesan groaned licking and lapping at your tits while leehan worked on your pussy with his tongue. taesan suddenly got on his knees tugging your hair slapping his cock onto your face "use your pretty mouth angel baby. you got it," he hissed when you opened your mouth happily taking his length into your throat. he was big, you were gagging everytime you bobbed your head. leehans skilled tongue was making you moan around taesans cock and taesan loveddd the vibrations, he couldnt get enough of how good your mouth felt and leehan couldnt get enough of how delicious you tasted. he was starting to get pussy drunk as your juices mixed with his drool coated his chin, sloppily licking and pumpijg his fingers in and out of you while you worked your mouth so sweetly on taesans cock.

but taesan wanted more. he gripped your hair into makeshift pigtails before warning you "m gonna fuck your face, tap my leg if its too much" he grinned throwing his head back as he thrusted into your face ruthlessly and moved your head up and down. you started to cry. he loved this sight, your pretty teary eyes looking up at him while he ruined you. this was just what he needed. leehan was in a trance as he watched, humping taesans bed while he ate you out. your nose hit taesans tummy as his cum filled your throat, making you swallow it all. you and taesan came at the same time, your taste emitted a long satisfied moan from leehan as he slurped up your juices happily.

[witchygagirlwrites]

Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz x Reader

The day Mouse met you his life turned around for the better

Laughter, that was not something Mouse had expected to hear when he walked into the twenty first district with Jay. Yet the sound hit his ears, the laughter wasn’t what he’d call melodic but it was genuine and that was so much better than a fake, practiced laugh. He saw a woman come sliding around the desk, the sergeant behind it shaking her head when she ran smack into Jay “Halstead! I’m gonna kill Ruzek!”

Jay gripped the woman’s arms to steady her and turned her to face him “This is one of the detectives in the unit. She’s normally a lot more professional than this and not threatening to kill anyone or well another cop, well another member of the unit?” She spun to face him, a grin slipping onto her face “You must be Jay’s friend, Greg Gerwitz right?” he nodded, a little stunned by this hurricane of a woman. She was absolutely gorgeous.  “Um you can call me Mouse, everyone else does” she nodded “I’ll decided which I wanna call you once I get to know you”

Jay laughed, “What did Ruzek do?” her eyes widened and she looked between them “That asshole broke my coffee mug!” Then she took off up the stairs, stopping just long enough to hit the palm scanner and held the gate open for them. Mouse watched her go and a smile slipped onto his face “She’s something else” Jay shook his head “Man I wouldn’t, she’ll eat you alive” 

Mouse cut his eyes at Jay, a grin slipping onto his face “If that woman is the death of me, consider me a lucky man” Jay just shook his head and threw his arm over his shoulders “Let's talk Voight into hiring you first”

“Sir can you just check your phone please?” Mouse was trying to convince Voight he could handle this job despite how bad he looked on paper. He needed it, he needed direction. “Check my phone?” Voight asked and he nodded “Yes sir”

Voight pulled his phone out and laughed when he saw that he’d changed his wallpaper to a photo of himself “Cute” he noticed you glancing over Voight’s shoulder as he explained  “I did that in a few seconds, imagine what a hacker could do in a day” 

Voight shrugged “Fine by me but Platt has to sign off on it too” then walked off. The moment Voight was back in his office you held your phone out “Where’s mine?” and he felt a blush heat up his face. Ok maybe Jay was right but damn the way you made him feel and he’d just met you. He shook his head with a small smile “I’ll send you one later sweetheart” and you grinned “Ooh sweetheart? I like it”

He never would’ve imagined he would’ve fallen for one of the detectives in the intelligence unit but little by little he found himself falling for that hurricane he met on day one. You would always give him a smile and be willing to listen on bad days that would even annoy Jay, you never got angry with him for his thoughts being scattered. He’d pulled himself back from addiction but hadn’t been able to breathe life back into himself. He’d been wandering from place to place. The longer he knew you the easier it got to breathe, the slower his thoughts got, the easier sleep came. You weren’t a miracle but you helped him to see that he was worth a future, he was worth good happening to him.

The day he asked you out he was so nervous he’d broken two pencils waiting on the clock to hit time for all of you to get off. He watched you sitting on the edge of Kim’s desk, laughing at something Kevin had said. Your hair was in a braid your sister had put it in and your knuckles were still bruised from getting in a fight with a perp two days before. He’d never seen a more beautiful sight. 

It was like you felt his eyes because you glanced up and smiled at him. He felt his heart flip. He was fairly certain he was already half in love with you. 

When the clock finally hit everyone started gathering their stuff but you walked over to his desk. “Greg” you’d decided about a month in that you were gonna call him by his actual name because “I’m not everyone so I’m not calling you what everyone does”

He smiled and stood up when you got to him “Hey sweetheart” you scratched behind your ear “Um, did you want to talk to me about something? You’ve kinda been staring at me” he felt a blush warm his cheek, he hadn’t meant to be so obvious. “Yeah, is there any way you might want to go out with me?” he waited for the rejection, for you to let him down easy but instead you smiled brightly and kissed his cheek “Thank god because I was tempted to just ask you out!”

Voight made you two fill out a stack of H.R. forms when he found out you were dating, Jay teased Mouse relentlessly that he’d fallen in love the moment you came sliding in threatening to kill Ruzek and then of course your sister had threatened to kill Mouse if he ever hurt you. He took it all in stride because his eyes remained on you. 

The first time you called him your boyfriend at work was when you had to pass him your gun when you and Kevin were taking a perp into an interrogation room. The guy had said “What, your secretary can handle your piece?” you’d “accidently” shoved the guy into a wall and informed him “My boyfriend served two tours in the rangers asshole, fairly certain he can handle my piece long enough for me to get the truth out of your ass” 

He’d felt his heart skip at your words and the pride in your voice. No one had ever been proud to claim him. Someone like you claiming him? That meant everything. When you got back out of interrogation, Adam and Kevin escorted the perp down to holding and you came to get your gun back but noticed the small smile on his face “What are you smiling about?” he shook his head “You claimed me” you grinned and said “You’re mine Gerwitz. Be prepared to get claimed a lot” 

The day you told him you loved him the first time you and Kim had gotten caught up in the middle of a shoot out. It was a close call, a very close call. When you two got out she ran straight for Adam and you ran straight for him.

You hadn’t cared that the entire unit and multiple patrol cars were right there, you pulled him into a kiss and told him “I love you Greg, fuck I love you so damn much” he hadn’t been able to think straight the entire time he had to listen to that damn firefight and not do anything so having you in his arms finally started his brain back. He held you tight, despite your gear pressing into his chest “I love you too sweetheart, so much”

So many years, so many trials, so many tests and tears yet here you were. Mouse looked over to see you and your daughters dancing in the living room. That same laughter he fell in love with now tripled. He’d fallen in love with you so many times over the years. His hurricane. You cut your eyes up at him and smiled, “Come on sir, get in here with me and the girls”

He shook his head and took your hand, the girls giggling as he twirled you around. “I love you Mrs Gerwitz” he told you and you grinned “I love you even more Mr Gerwitz”

[cleverthylacine]

The TikTok Migration to RedNote

On TikTok, I lurk, and now I'm lurking on RedNote. (I'm not searchable yet. Will let those interested know when that changes. Still figuring out the settings.)

A bunch of people got mad about the TikTok ban and decided that they would take their cookies and leave and go to an ACTUALLY Chinese app. I'm not sure why they picked RedNote rather than DouYin, but I think it was a good choice. I'm following other lolitas there mostly, because I don't need any Mandarin to like people's outfits. I did have a semester of Mandarin and am wondering how hard it would be to pick up some more, though, especially since I'm seeing all kinds of Americans from every imaginable background type doing so.

All over YouTube there are videos now of TikTokers on RedNote crying because we have been welcomed onto the app and treated kindly.

There is a lot of very expected anger about people discovering that no, in other countries it's not normal to pay more than half your paycheck for rent and half of what's left for food. Chinese people are saying that they thought it was government propaganda when they were told that Americans are expected to pay for ambulances, and healthcare, and that a $200 grocery bill for the week is not unusual.

I'm glad to see people getting radicalised about the class system in this country, but that's not actually the main thing I'm talking about in this post, though.

There are people who are deadass shocked that they haven't been insulted, trolled in a mean way, or been exposed to explicit unsolicited come-ons (there's one guy who posted shirtless selfies who is a little @@;; that he has 16000 gay male Chinese followers, but he's not getting spammed with raunchy photos).

So I value freedom of speech on political matters very highly, but there are two things I think are going on.

The first one is that yeah, a lot of Chinese people probably are better socialised than Americans, BUT

The second one is that Americans put up with a lot of shit in the name of freedom of speech that we shouldn't and after the changes on Meta last week I will only be using IG to communicate with Japanese brands and Facebook not at all, because they're going the other direction.

I think that if some chode did send me a nasty DM on RedNote and I reported it, something would be done about it. It's not that I don't think people will be nice and kind if they're not forced to be.

It's that chodes and Nazis and frankly racist and misogynist people will run everyone else off a platform if they are allowed to, and this app has somehow stopped that from happening, probably by not letting people be completely predatory bullies and assholes to one another.

English-language social media probably needs to stop letting people do that. It is not a violation of your free speech rights to tell someone they can't use a platform to be abusive.

I saw a video of a person of mixed race and unclockable gender who was wearing loose, oversized clothes sobbing because nobody was insulting them horribly, everyone who had commented on their post had been genuinely nice. Their experience of every other social media platform has been unchecked bullying everywhere. I don't know whether they'd ever been here, but we all know bullying does happen here, too, even if we're loads better than any of Meta's products.

People should not EXPECT to be viciously harassed every time they join a new site. That's horrible. It's also something I never really questioned before.

And I still think (always will) that you should be able to post any content that you want on AO3 in the works, but it's not okay to bully people in the comments.

[itscoucouharry]

Rewritten Scars Chapter 4

Prepare for sweet sweet Harry. This part turned out better than I thought it would. As always enjoy!:)

Chapter 4: The Shift

Y/N’s POV

The next few weeks at Styles Enterprises were a whirlwind. Between adjusting to your new role and navigating the awkward tension of working in the same building as Harry Styles, you barely had time to catch your breath. To your surprise, he seemed to be taking your words seriously. There were no smug comments, no unnecessary run-ins. He gave you space, and you appreciated it.

But then little things started happening.

It began on a Tuesday morning when you arrived at your desk to find a mug waiting for you—a sleek black ceramic mug, steam curling from the top, carrying the unmistakable scent of your favorite coffee: caramel macchiato with a hint of hazelnut.

You froze, staring at the mug like it might explode. A sticky note was stuck to the side, the handwriting annoyingly neat.

“Thought you might need this. — H”

You looked around the office, half-expecting him to pop out from somewhere and smirk at you, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Still, you couldn’t help but take a sip. It was perfect—just the way you liked it.

Harry’s POV

Harry watched from the corner of the office, pretending to review some reports while keeping an eye on you. He couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips when you lifted the mug, sniffed it suspiciously, and finally took a sip. He’d spent a ridiculous amount of time scrolling through your Instagram the night before, hoping to find some clue about your coffee order. He’d hit gold when he stumbled across an old photo captioned, “Starting the day right: caramel + hazelnut = heaven.”

He knew it was a small gesture, but it was a start.

Y/N’s POV

You didn’t look in his direction, but he saw the slight softening in your expression as you set the mug down. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to give him a glimmer of hope.

Over the next few days, more changes became noticeable. Harry made sure your workload was manageable, subtly redirecting overly demanding projects to other team members without making a big deal of it. He arranged for your team to get new ergonomic chairs after overhearing you mention a sore back. He even went out of his way to greet you every morning with a simple, “Good morning, Y/N,” his tone sincere and devoid of any arrogance.

At first, you couldn’t help but be suspicious. Was this some elaborate ploy to win you over? But the more you observed, the harder it was to deny that his efforts felt… genuine.

Harry’s POV

Every night, Harry replayed your words from the confrontation in his office. He knew he couldn’t erase the pain he’d caused, but he was determined to show you that he’d changed. That he wasn’t the same cruel boy who’d tormented you.

He made a point of asking your team for feedback—not in a way that singled you out, but just enough to gauge how things were going for you. He listened when they mentioned your frustrations, like the outdated software slowing down your work, and immediately approved a system upgrade.

It wasn’t about buying your forgiveness. It was about creating an environment where you didn’t have to feel the way he’d made you feel all those years ago.

Y/N’s POV

You noticed the changes but refused to acknowledge them directly. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of thinking he’d won you over. But the morning you walked into the office and found a sleek new laptop on your desk with another note—“For when the old one acts up again. Hope this helps.- H”—you felt a pang of something you couldn’t quite place.

Reluctantly, you began to wonder: Could people really change?

Harry’s POV

He didn’t expect a thank-you for the coffee, the laptop, or the chairs. Hell, he didn’t even expect you to speak to him outside of work matters. But that didn’t stop him from trying. Every little gesture, every effort to make your experience at Styles Enterprises a good one, was a step toward redemption in his eyes.

One evening, long after most of the office had cleared out, Harry sat at his desk, scrolling through a list of potential wellness initiatives for employees. He’d heard you mention during a meeting that mental health support was often overlooked in corporate environments, and he wanted to make sure that wasn’t the case here.

He drafted an email to HR suggesting an in-house therapist be made available for employees, attaching a few articles about the benefits. His finger hovered over the “Send” button for a moment before he clicked it.

It was just one more step in a journey he wasn’t sure he’d ever complete. But for the first time in his life, he didn’t mind the work.

Y/N’s POV

That Friday, you found yourself working late again, your office nearly empty as the city lights twinkled through the windows. Your new laptop hummed softly as you wrapped up an overdue report. You stretched your arms over your head, groaning quietly at the ache in your back.

“Burning the midnight oil?”

You jumped, startled by the voice. Turning, you saw Harry leaning casually against the doorway, holding two steaming paper cups.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, more sharply than you intended.

He raised the cups in his hands. “Thought you might need a pick-me-up.” He approached slowly, placing one on your desk. “Decaf caramel macchiato—extra hazelnut. Don’t worry, I checked this time. No surprises.”

Your stomach twisted—not with anger, but something far more dangerous. “You’re really going all in on this nice-guy act, huh?”

“It’s not an act,” he said quietly, pulling a chair from the empty desk beside you and sitting down. His green eyes locked onto yours, soft and unguarded. “I know I have a lot to make up for. But I want to.”

You rolled your eyes, though the heat creeping into your face betrayed you. “I’m starting to think you’re trying to bribe me with coffee.”

“Is it working?” he asked, his lips curling into a faint, boyish smile.

You couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped. “Maybe a little.”

He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. “I mean it, Y/N. I’m not doing this because I want you to forgive me overnight. I’m doing it because… I care. I’ve hurt you enough. The least I can do is try to make your life a little better now.”

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten. “You don’t owe me anything, Harry. I don’t need you to—”

“I do owe you,” he interrupted, his voice firm but gentle. “I owe you an apology for every word I ever said that made you doubt yourself. For every time I made you feel small. And I owe you a hell of a lot more than coffee and a new laptop to make up for it.”

The vulnerability in his words left you speechless. For the first time, you allowed yourself to see the man he’d become instead of the boy he used to be. And, God help you, that man was making it hard to stay angry.

“Harry…” you started, your voice faltering.

“What?” he asked softly, leaning in just enough that you could smell the faint hint of cedarwood cologne on him.

Your heart raced as you searched for something to say, but nothing came. Instead, you felt yourself drawn to the warmth in his gaze, the way his lips quirked up like he could read your mind and was waiting for you to catch up.

“Why are you being so sweet?” you whispered finally.

His smile widened, but it wasn’t smug—it was soft, disarming. “Because I want to be. Because I’ve spent too much time being an idiot, and I’m done with that. And because…” He hesitated, his eyes flicking to your lips for just a second before returning to your face. “Because you deserve it.”

The air between you shifted, charged with something electric. You hated how fast your pulse was racing, how the flutter in your stomach betrayed every ounce of resolve you’d built up.

“You’re trouble,” you muttered, shaking your head.

“Only the good kind,” he countered, his voice low.

And for the first time in years, you didn’t feel the weight of anger or resentment when you looked at him. Instead, you felt your heart start to crack open, just a little.

“Maybe,” you said softly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “But don’t push your luck.”

He grinned, leaning back slightly but keeping his gaze locked on yours. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

But the way his eyes lingered on you, warm and hopeful, told you this was far from over. And for once, you weren’t sure you wanted it to be.