#i just want to complete everything immediately

[snapdrag0n]

Everybody saying martin and yes. Yes. Of course I agree. Duh. It's also kind of the curse of being a VERY complex, VERY famous fictional character who also goes through a lot of change during the story and whose character arc includes him being misread and misunderstood by others.

But it's still frustrating because it's so obvious. Tma does a great job at depicting how people's perception of Martin is VERY wrong. People SAY things about him and afterwards, Martin SHOWS you that assumption was completely off - sometimes immediately after! Jon assumes Martin is incapable? Mere episodes later Martin has worked so hard that he got locked in his house for 13 days and still, the first thing he does as he's freed is make a statement. Jon starts recognizing his ability to be "almost cunning" soon after -- he's seeing the real Martin.

In s2-3 Tim is convinced all Martin wants is an idyllic reality where everyone is happy and nothing bad ever happens. Tim assumes Martin wants an escape, when the ENTIRETY of s3 is Martin being nearly the only one to actually face what is happening -- HE's making the statements and researching them on his own, not Tim, as bad as it makes him feel. And when Elias tells him his devotion is to a person who treats him quite badly his answer is "yeah, I know". Because he DOES. People keep assuming Martin doesn't stand up for himself, but it's the opposite -- Martin knows EXACTLY when someone is mistreating him and manipulating him, and he usually uses that. Why else would he have been so strongly considered for the Web? Elias's first idea was to destroy Martin's image of Jon -- but he can't, because Martin ALREADY knows. That's when he hits way closer, to his parents and his mother, the one topic that's actually still a sore subject for him. And yet, after all that, he immediately gets up and gets back to business, his plan having succeeded. He gets back to work. Martin's ability to manipulate a situation to his advantage is CONSISTENTLY shown and NOBODY SEEMS TO SEE IT both in the show and outside of it.

And s4 oh s4. To me it's peak Martin season because everything he's been trying to push against becomes too strong for him -- and still he perseveres and proves everyone wrong. Here, the concept of him knowing he's being manipulated and using it to his benefit is central to his arc and consistent until the end -- everytime you think Peter might have finally gotten him, Martin reminds you he knows EXACTLY who he's working with, and beats him, even when the Lonely has nearly completely got him (then there's Jon pulling him out, and him finally, finally getting back all that love he's given, all that caring. But that's another story. I love jmart)

And s5 has a lot of him, and I could go on and on, but I'll just say this. You probably don't realize just how much Martin manipulates the situations he's in so that what he wants can happen, and it's not obvious in s5, but he's actually doing it with his relationship with Jon -- not in a bad, actually manipulative way, mostly, but in the way you would if you saw your partner go through what Jon went through, become what Jon has become. Martin pushes Jon to get out of his guilty mindset. Martin convinces Jon to get out and try to make it better. If you still don't see it: do you realize that in the finale, despite Jon betraying everything they'd organized, what happens is STILL what Martin wanted?

It might be unfair to call it manipulation: it's not. Martin, at his core, loves immensely, and that's something any fan sees. What many people don't truly understand is HOW Martin loves: he doesn't love carelessly and selflessly (except in the very beginning, maybe). Martin loves very, very carefully. He adores and loves and takes CARE of it. He's stubborn, hard, and resolute in the face of it. He will not sit and take it. He will love actively and he will fight for it.

Worst pain

[fastandcarlos]

Little Boy Growing Up : ̗̀➛ Daniel Ricciardo

summary: you can't contain your emotions as your son attends nursery for the very first time

As the car came to a stop, a lump ran down your throat as you studied the building that you had toured a couple of weeks ago. Next to you, Daniel was just as nervous, knowing what was about to come, not quite sure he was fully prepared for it. 

“Shall we go in?” You smiled, turning back in your seat to look at your son. “This is the place where you’re going to be staying today sweetheart.” 

“Let’s go!” Your son cheered, hurrying to get out of the car. 

Daniel climbed out and walked around to help him get out, unfastening her seatbelt and lifting him out of her seat. “I can’t believe my baby boy is growing up.” 

“Daniel,” you chuckled, climbing out of the car too and giving your son a hug. “He’s only going to nursery, he’s not going to prom or anything just yet.” 

Since you agreed to start taking your son to nursery, Daniel had been relatively calm. But now that he was here, he was struggling to contain his emotion and not let it get the better of him. 

“Baby,” you whispered, pulling your son closer to you. “Do you think you could go and give daddy a really big squeeze, I think he’d love that right now.” 

Your son did as you asked, sprinting over to Daniel and leaping into his arms. “Are you excited?” Daniel asked him, forcing a smile onto his face. “What am I going to do without you by my side today?” 

“You’ll have fun too,” your son assured him. 

Your eyes were drawn to the tight hold that Daniel had on him, refusing to let him go. “Come on, we can’t stand out in the car park all day,” you tried to tell them both. 

Daniel reluctantly let your son go as you took his hand, Daniel deciding it was best for him to wait in the car. A member of nursery staff was immediately at the door with a warm smile, especially as she saw how excited your son was. 

“Hi sweet boy,” she chimed, kneeling down so that she was at his height. “It’s lovely to have you here with us.” 

Your mouth opened to say goodbye, but your son was already off and beginning to explore the place. You handed his bag over, standing in astonishment at how easily he took to nursery, quickly finding the toys that he liked and talking to the other children who were with them playing. 

“It’s nice not to deal with tears for once,” the staff member joked. “I’ll make sure to keep an extra close eye on him today and see how he settles in. If we have any problems, I’ll make sure to give you a call.” 

You waved goodbye before heading back across to the car. As you opened the door, Daniel quickly wiped underneath both of his eyes before smiling across at you. 

“Everything good?” You asked, watching Daniel closely. His head nodded, but the look on his face told you a completely different story.  

You stayed still for a moment before reaching across and taking a hold of Daniel’s hand, silently reminding him that you were right there with him. 

“I didn’t think I’d find this so hard,” he admitted in a whisper, “especially as he’s found it all so easy.” 

“It’s nice to know he’s excited,” you responded. 

Daniel hummed in agreement, “I’m glad that he was looking forward to this, I guess I just wasn’t looking forward to losing him.” 

“You’ve not lost him Daniel, you’ll see him in seven hours.” 

The two of them had always been undeniably close, when Daniel was home every second was spent with your son, hanging out, doing whatever they wanted to do, making as many memories together as possible. 

Daniel had worked hard on preparing your son for nursery, prepping him with skills, conversation starters and teaching him about sharing too. Daniel wanted his son to be liked, he knew that he would be popular, he was a mini Daniel after all. 

Your hand squeezed against Daniel’s tightly, “I bet he would want for us to enjoy ourselves whilst he’s at nursery you know Daniel.” 

Daniel’s eyes widened, “I can’t believe I have to spend my day with you now, can’t I go and get him back and hang out with him instead?” 

“Excuse me, we’ll have a great time together.” 

Daniel’s eyes rolled as you hit against his arm, encouraging him to put his foot down and get driving. You knew that he was only messing with you, but at the same time, you knew no one could fill the void that your son left in his life when he wasn’t around. 

“He’s going to learn a lot being at nursery, he’ll grow as a person,” you told Daniel. 

“There’s plenty that I could teach him though,” he argued. 

Your head shook as Daniel continued to protest. Although he had taught your son plenty, there were some things in life that a parent couldn’t teach their child. 

“He’s going to be around kids his own age, not around stinky drivers who are sweaty and gross,” you teased, “and it means we get more time together too.” 

Daniel’s eyes narrowed back across at you, “there’s nothing wrong with hanging out with racing drivers, we actually happen to be pretty cool guys.” 

“I know, I was stupid enough to marry one of them.” 

As the two of you pulled out from the nursery, you could see Daniel arguing with himself. There was a small part of him that wanted to run in and take your son, but he knew that he couldn’t, eventually listening to you and driving away, as much as it killed him. 

Despite his protests, Daniel knew that nursery was going to be good for your son, it was a chance for him to see more, do more, meet new people, everything that Daniel had ever wanted for him.  

After a few minutes he began to relax again, leaning back in his chair as he focused on the road, trying to forget about the fact that he had lost his little man for a few hours. 

“What are we going to do now that it’s just the two of us?” You asked him. 

Daniel’s eyes flickered across to you, “well, seeing as I’ve essentially just lost a child, there’s a bit of a void in my life now that needs to be filled.” 

“You’ve not lost your child, he’s just growing up, that’s what we all do Daniel.” 

His shoulders shrugged, but still his eyes looked suggestively across at you. Now that your son was growing up, the two of you had more time on your hands again, and Daniel definitely wasn’t happy just settling on having one child. 

“We’ve been blessed with one incredible child; would it be so bad if we thought about another one?” Daniel quizzed, offering you a wide smile. “Doesn’t now seem like the perfect time to start thinking about these things, like you said, we’re not getting any younger.” 

“How long have you been planning this?” You chuckled, shaking your head across at him. “We’ve just said goodbye to one child for the day and now you’re planning the next one.” 

Daniel’s shoulders shrugged, an innocent expression etched upon his face. “I’m not necessarily thinking about having a child straight away, but it’s important that we get lots of practice in for it beforehand.” 

“Is that really where your mind is at? You’re impossible sometimes Daniel Ricciardo.” 

“Hey, look at you! Can you blame me?” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[docdudo]

Familiar 141 - Young Witch!Reader (Part 2)

“Aww, look at these sparks…” Gaz coos gently, watching your scared little figure curled up in the back of the nest as you try your best to use your magic to keep them away. “For a baby witch? Isn’t that just precious?”

A heavy grunt scares you enough for your magic to just die right then and there, your head whipping to the side where the big bastard of a familiar was sitting. His body looked completely relaxed, arms crossed and eyes focused on your little form curled against the wall.

“Careful, little witch,” Ghost warns, voice low and heavy, making you just stare at him with even more terror. “Might get hurt.”

“Ow, just let the lassie get everything out, she’s scared.” Soap smiles big, laying down on his belly, looking up at you with both hands holding his head up like a teenage girl in love or something.

He was so close to your curled-up legs too, almost asking for a kick in his face.

“We’re such good familiars, baby. No need to try to harm us,” Gaz coos again, crawling a little closer to your little form.

His movement was enough to startle you, magic immediately coming to life as your hands sparked hot red for a second.

Only to die right away thanks to big, warm hands enveloping your little ones and forcing your magic down easily.

“Our strong baby witch,” Ghost rumbles in an animalistic way, his giant hands holding yours close to his chest now that he was by your side. “It’s okay, calm yourself. You can get hurt like this, darlin’.”

“M-My magic…!” you manage to exclaim, a mix of indignation and fear as you look up at his face with big, wide eyes.

“No guidance, no preparation, no form.” Price’s voice immediately alerts you, making you look at the end of the room where the oldest familiar was quietly preparing something on that stupid high table of his. “It is pretty incredible that you have such high-level magic for a baby witch with no Coven, but it’s not good to try and use your magic at any given time like this.”

“I-I can use—I know how to use my magic…!” you protest slightly, now more indignant than anything else, little hands still stuck in the bigger familiar’s grasp.

You pretend not to notice the way he was rubbing your hands gently, not letting go.

“Never said you couldn’t, doll,” Price smirks a little as he spares you a glance from his chair. “Just saying it’s not smart. Might get hurt; even experienced witches lose control of their magic from time to time.”

“And no one’s expecting a baby to have the best control, mo leanbh,” Soap adds, still laying down with a big, dumb smile plastered on his stupid face.

It made you annoyed enough to uncurl one of your legs and… kinda kick his face? Well, not kick, more like push his face to the side as you press your little foot to his cheek. He didn’t seem to mind, though, a stupid grin as he lets you do as you want.

“Such a gentle little witch too…” Gaz mumbles, approaching once again to nuzzle against your side gently. Yeah, no, this jerk has to be a cat or something. “It has been ages since the last time I saw an actual baby witch….”

“They are always so well-hidden deep in Covens. A pity, too, that our last witch dinae take much interest in them.” Soap agrees easily, still not doing anything about your socked foot on his face.

You try to push him more, but he doesn’t really budge.

“Let go,” you grumble at Ghost, trying to free your hands as you glare (such a cute glare, he could look at your baby-ish, cute expression for decades) at him.

“Aww, but baby, what if you try to use your magic again?” And you know the second that you see the pout on Gaz’s lips that he’s mocking you. The audacity…!

“Boys, stop that, you’re going to overwhelm her—“

“G-Get away…!” You raise your voice a bit more, squirming against them, trying to free your hands from the restraining grip and trying to push the face against your foot farther from you.

And then you feel Soap grip your ankle. Gently, but he grips it nonetheless.

And then you’re crying, overwhelmed.

“Oh no, no, no, no, didn’t mean it, lassie!” Soap quickly lets go, getting up on his knees with a worried expression.

Ghost also lets your hands go, almost as if he was burned, and you immediately start to rub your face and eyes, sniffling as you try to contain your tears.

“I’m so sorry, hun, I’m sorry, I was being an asshole, wasn’t I…?” Gaz is also quick to apologize, lowering his body enough to be smaller than you as he bumps his head quietly against your arm, regret written all over his face.

Price lets out a heavy sigh from his chair, rubbing his face with the hand that isn’t working with something on the table.

“I know none of us are used to baby witches, but boys, you have to tone down. She’s not a mature witch; she can’t take your provocations like this.”

“Ah dinae even provoke…!” Soap immediately protests, hands hesitating around you as he tries to calm you down. “Gaz did it…!”

“Oh, shut it, Tav.” He growls quietly, shuffling a bit to your side as you keep sniffling and trying to control your tears.

And then, a black cat jumps onto your lap. A big, fluffy black cat. It confuses you for a second until you remember what familiars are, and you quietly settle down a little, hands hesitantly touching the cat now laying on top of your legs, looking up at you with big, yellow eyes.

The other familiars seem to calm down too as they see you calming down. Ghost is still unmoving by your side, but he doesn’t seem like a ball of anxiety anymore, and Soap also settles down in front of you, sitting on the mattress with a relieved sigh.

“Ghost, Soap, come ‘ere,” Price calls, approaching the nest now with what looks like four gold bands on his hands.

“Oh, we’re doing it already?” Soap asks, eyes big in excitement as he quickly grabs one of the gold bands. “Ah’ll start!”

You watch in almost shock as he quickly slashes a cut on his hand with just his long nails, rubbing his blood over the band before turning to you with a big, delighted grin, his hand coming up to gently, but firmly, pull your right leg closer to him.

“Johnny MacTavish, mah beirn.” And then, the band locks on your ankle, a flash of light blinding you for a second, your magic twisting inside of you in response to what you thought was his own magic coming into contact.

The cat jumps out of your lap in a quick movement, becoming a man in the span of a second and grabbing the other gold band, also swiping his nails against his arm to let his blood drip onto the gold.

“’M so sorry, sweetie, I’ll keep myself in check, yeah?” Gaz smiles gently, pulling your left leg forward with his hand. “Kyle Garrick.”

Another flash of light, another band locked in place, and once again, your magic twists inside you as soon as it comes into contact with his.

“Ugh…” You wince slightly, curling up a bit on yourself at the intense feeling.

“Is she hurting…?” Soap mumbles, unsure, looking at you worriedly.

“Probably a bit weirded out with some of our magic seeping through to hers…” Kyle says calmly, though he is also worried, pushing your hair a little out of your face.

“Even though we’re forcing the bond indirectly, she’s bound to feel some kind of discomfort…” Price nods, offering the third band to Ghost. “It would be way worse if we were actually doing the bond pact right off the bat. That’s for when she’s older.”

Ghost grunts as he bites down on his hand, rubbing the blood messily against the shining gold. You try to scoot away from him, but one of his hands immediately goes for your small back, pulling you close and grabbing your right arm.

“Simon Riley.” Immediately, the gold band locks on your wrist, a new wave of magic coming through you and almost knocking you out.

“Price, be gentle…” Kyle murmurs, frowning a bit at your pinched expression as he quietly tries to soothe you.

“Lass might pass out…” Soap observes, hand coming to your hair to pull it out of your face slightly.

“It’s going to be quick,” Price nods, approaching you and pulling your left arm close to him. He gently pulls it close, and with a small kiss against your palm, he locks the band in place. “John Price.”

The magic running through you is immediately bothered once again, twisting out of the way of a new presence as you squirm and whine in their arms. It’s getting hard to stay awake, your body still too weak and young to take the presence of four powerful familiars tied to you. Sure, it’s a weak bond, not a proper pact, but it would be unreal for a witch your age to manage to endure a bond pact. That’s probably why they chose this option in the first place; like this, you’re all tied together, and your young body and mind will be able to get used to them as time passes for a proper pact in the future.

For now, though, it’s all a little too much as you loose consciousness in their arms, feeling four traces of ancient magic stick to your much younger magic core.

[demonic0angel]

Everyone talking shit about Clockwork shoving time missions on the Phantoms. Nobody ever talks about how hard he works to keep space/time from collapsing in on itself from bad timelines.

(You’re right 😔 he needs some appreciation. I had a lot of fun with this one lmao)

Part 3 of this post and this post.

Clockwork resisted the urge to sigh as he watched another world implode via the timeline shifting from the speed force. He silently sent another note to his children workers to solve the problem. As he monitored the situation in other worlds, he kept an eye on the collapsing timeline.

Soon enough, Dan swooped in before the catalyst to beat the crap out of the person who had accidentally created a zombie apocalypse and then he was stomping his feet and throwing a rage-induced tantrum within the poor scientist’s lab, destroying everything. He was shouting and overturning tables, but couldn’t be heard through the time stream.

Clockwork resisted a sigh again. He didn’t like overworking his children employees so much either, but it had to be done.

Just as Dan left the world to rejoin his boyfriend, Clockwork continued to watch the other timelines. Three more worlds suddenly took a turn for the worst and Clockwork sent more messages to the rest of his children workers in order to fix it. He paused as the door to his lair opened and Dan burst inside.

Clockwork tried not to tense. Dan was his most volatile child employee, and he was prone to attacking anything that enraged him. Jazz had once explained that it was his coping mechanism as a decade of grief and loneliness had completely corrupted his impulse control.

Clockwork turned, pretending that he didn’t feel apprehensive about Dan’s presence. “Is there a problem…?”

Dan strode forward with a cool, almost indifferent expression. Without warning, Dan threw himself forward and onto Clockwork’s lap. Clockwork tensed, but Dan only held onto him tightly, wrapping his arms around his waist and then burying his face into his ghostly stomach.

The presence of his child someone near his stomach made him recoil tightly, but he held still.

“Clockworkkkkkk,” Dan whined. “Can’t I kill the Flashes? Please? Just one! I’ll settle for killing Wally West. Can I please kill him?”

Clockwork couldn’t help the chuckle that burst out of him. “No, you cannot. They are vital for that world’s survival.”

“They’re not vital to my sanity!”

The door burst open again and his other three children poured in, also having just finished fixing another world from collapsing. Dani immediately gasped at seeing Dan in his lap. “What! I want Clockwork cuddles too!”

The three of them joined their brother in crowding him and cuddling him, until eventually, he had all four of his children within his embrace. Clockwork released a sigh as he was forced onto his back and rubbed at Danny’s hair, who was lying on his spectral tail. Jazz leaned against him unhappily, and both Dani and Dan were laying on his stomach.

“I’m sorry for overworking you four,” Clockwork said, despite knowing that it wasn’t his fault. He had no one else to solve the problems of the Flash family, not when he was needed to watch over the time stream. “But it is necessary in order to help as many worlds as possible.”

“We don’t blame you,” Jazz said, ever the most empathetic, “it’s all of the Flashes’ faults!”

“I propose that we kill them and save us the headache!” Dan said.

Dani sighed, but also laughed. “Well, Bart is one of my best friends, but I guess he’ll have to go.”

Danny grinned and said, “Cool, I’ll take Flash.”

Clockwork smiled as his children (his wonderful, powerful, extraordinary children) started squabbling over how to kill or whether not to kill someone with the speed force. Work was difficult as someone who was devoted to protecting other timelines and worlds, but with his family by his side, life wasn’t too hard. In a way, Clockwork was almost grateful to be reborn as an Ancient.

Perhaps now, his family and existence wouldn’t end as tragically as before, with his children by his side.

[transfemininomenon]

"don't want them to get poisoned? don't grow plants that are known dangers to cats. don't want them to get strangled? don't leave out a bunch of plastic bags for them to toy with. don't want them to hunt birds, other mammals, etc? get them a collar with a bell. don't want them to go missing? don't immediately throw your cat outdoors the second you adopt, because surprise, they need to get used to the environment first."

1. you controlling every other bit of your environment in regard to poisoning? you have have neighbors growing gardens or with crawl spaces they can get into? you think your cat isn't wandering far beyond just Your Yard ? look up the average roaming range or an outdoor cat - i guarantee you you'll be shocked

2. see above with the trash. other people exist. other places exist. you can do everything "right" and still have them get exposed to something.

3. other animals exist that can and will bring them harm. i guarantee you Anywhere you have an outdoor cat will run into potentially dangerous other animals whether that be possums, raccoons, foxes, bats, birds of prey, etc etc as well as OTHER CATS/pets. your cat is not immune to FIV contracted by a run in with another cat.

4. bells will not fully stop a cat from hunting. it will reduce their success rate yes, but it will never stop it completely.

5. there are innumerable other things that can happen to a cat outside your control. cars, construction equipment, other people, sudden weather changes, becoming trapped somewhere, getting chased or scared by something, the list goes on.

6. the examples you listed of safe outdoor practices are true, and also clearly not what i mean by Outdoor Cat. those things you listed are what i suggest to people who DO defend outdoor cats - if your cats insists upon going out sometimes then yes you sure nurture that in Healthy Ways. a cat that goes on walks, has supervised time in a safe outdoor space, or has a catio to go out on is not an Outdoor Cat.

7. you're literally being the person op is about. your personal stories do not change the well documented & studied average experience of outdoor cats. literally nobody is saying that outdoor cats can't live long lives, but the fact of the matter is that on average they live far less than an indoor cat and that you are needlessly putting danger upon a cat by having it outdoors. you wouldn't do this for a dog, or a ferret, a pet bird, a hamster, or literally any other pet, why is cat the exception?

outdoor cat defenders really are simply some of the most Delusional people on the planet, like you can list fact after fact all with verified sources about how bad it is to let cats outside for both them & the environment around them and people will cover their ears and be like "umm not my frumpkins he knows not to play in traffic & he has magical resistance to coyotes and disease"

[prkhaven]

warnings: smut minors do not interact, oral (f rec.), face riding, profanity, pussy muncher jake agenda, happy birthday jake <3

─────────୨ৎ──────────

“Ja-Jake” You breathlessly mewled as you rutted your hips fast against his lapping tongue, one hand holding the bed frame while the other tug at the fluff of his hair

You’ve last track of time, everything all blurring together from the moment he attached his plump lips onto your pussy. Your legs forced to trap him underneath you, his arms hooked them over his shoulder providing all the access in the world to lather himself in you.

His tongue glides over your saliva covered folds, never getting tired of the sweet taste of your essence. Even though the lack of oxygen made him light-headed, he’d go out like this. “So fucking sweet baby. I could eat you up forever” He blabbed incoherently at your core sending shivers up your spine

You knew his words to be true. He’d drag out countless orgasms out of your like it was nothing until he’s completely drained you of anymore. That’s how he loves to spend his time—buried in between your legs.

“You can give me more” He hummed out his white lie, his hand landing straight to the plush of your hips digging his nails just enough to leave the indents on your skin

Your body easily folding forward, thighs shaking at each side of his shoulder, you shook your head aggressively unable to let out anymore. “C-Can’t” You whined when in reality that was far from the truth and he knew that

His tongue dragged moving in a quick repetitive motion, loud slurping noises reflecting how much he was taking to pour on his taste buds and let it slide to the back of his throat. His tall nose bridge hitting the swollen bud each time you moved, smearing yourself all over him, the mixed spit with your cum and wetness spilt from the corners of his mouth to drabble down his chin.

Beyond filth and that was the best birthday gift ever.

Jake could feel how your body jumped when his tongue dared to tease your gaped hole but never managing to make it far because of of him, the evident smirk felt against deep within your folds made you throw a weak glare towards him through squinted eyes and an opened shaped mouth which went unnoticed in the end.

He was far too engrossed in living in the moment of how he lathered himself in you, wondering how he could get more until he felt you drifting away from him, the weight peeling off his face to disappear as the overrated air filled his mouth and lungs.

Jake’s eyes darted to you to see you panting heavily, improperly holding onto the bed frame as you hovered just above his face. Glistening tired out pussy so close yet so far from his mouth. The sight was to die for but eating you pussy was better—way better than merely seeing it.

“Jak-” You started but squealed when Jake’s arms extended out and roughly pulled you straight back down, not wanting to hear your excuse

His nose immediately hit your clit as it ripped out a strained moan from your mouth, your nails dug further into the frame cracking at it under your fingernails. “Not done with my gift yet” Jake spoke, the first time you’ve properly heard his voice this entire time

“Keep movin’ for me” He tapped at your side, before he opened his mouth leaving feathering kisses at your folds once feeling your hesitance to move

Wanting to encourage you, he was going to guide you towards allowing him to receive the biggest pleasure and luxury of you squishing his face again but when he felt you slowly grind your hips again, he smiled—beyond pleased and utterly so proud of you, “That’s it- My best birthday present ever”

Today, you saved a horse by riding your favorite cowboy.

[ivyyisbored22]

𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝—𝘉𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘹 (𝘧𝘦𝘮) 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

A Stray Kids one shot

Synopsis: The company found out about Chan dating you and in order to save his idol life, he is forced to break up with you. The both of you saw this coming but the heartbreak is unbearable…

Warnings: BREAK UP ONE SHOT. Smut🔞, unprotected sex, Oral (f. receiving), pet names, heartbreak, angst, tears.

Minors do not interact!!!

Note: This isn't a loving one shot but a heartbreaking one, just a practice because I wanna explore writing angsty scenes. It's VERY different from my usual work, so I really hope you'll enjoy this...

If this isn't your thing, you're more than welcome to skip it. Reblogs, likes, comments and feedbacks are always appreciated.

ɪ'ᴠᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴏꜰ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ɪᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪʟʟɪᴏɴ ᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ʙᴜᴛ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴘᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴡʜᴇʀᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ.

Word count: 3.9k

𝑬𝑵𝑱𝑶𝒀!

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The sound of the clock ticking in the once warm apartment felt like stabbing a nail through your head.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Time doesn't stop flying. And God you'd do anything to stop it or go back to relive certain moments which are now memories. Time slips through our fingers like sand, no matter how tightly we try to hold it.

The air was suffocating, thick with tension, unspoken words that refused to come out. Your eyes never left the floor and you could feel his eyes looking at you, his heart torn between regret and determination.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this—you had promised each other that. But some things were beyond promises, beyond dreams, beyond even love.

“You knew this could happen, right?” Chan’s voice was a soft whisper, as if saying it out loud would make it real.

Your throat tightened, your eyes blurring with tears that you tried so hard to hold back. Of course it had come to an end. The universe was cruel, pulling two souls together only to tear them apart.

You nodded, feeling the weight of every unsaid word pressing on your chest. "I knew," you murmured, the words barely finding their way out.

A flicker of pain crossed Chan’s face, and he took a deep breath. “If there was any other way… you know I’d choose you. Every time. But I can’t... I can’t risk everything I’ve worked for. It’s not just about me—it’s the group, the fans...”

You bit your lip, desperately wanting to say something, anything to make him stay. But deep down, you understood. You always had.

The two of you risked it and spent the night together at a hotel, when a company staff spotted Chan with a mysterious woman. The following morning Chan was called into the headquarters where he was met with cold stares and harsher words.

The company laid out the stakes in brutal clarity; his career, his group, everything he’d worked his whole life for, would crumble if he continued this relationship. There was no room for compromise, no softening of the blow. Chan had been forced to choose.

He was lucky that this remained in the walls of the company, but that luck came with a price. They had made it clear that they’d bury the scandal, keep it from reaching the public as if this had never happened, but only if Chan ended things immediately and distanced himself from you completely. They were giving him a way out, but it was one he’d have to take alone.

And now, in the echoing silence of the apartment, with everything unravelling around you both, the gravity of that choice felt like an anchor around your heart.

Chan’s eyes fell to the floor, his shoulders heavy with the weight of guilt. “I never wanted it to come to this,” he said, his voice breaking. “But if I don’t… if we don’t…” His words trailed off, as though even he couldn’t bear to say them.

A bitter laugh escaped you, though you hadn’t meant for it to. “So, what? We just pretend none of this ever happened? That all of this was nothing?”

He flinched, and you saw the flash of hurt in his eyes. “No… no, it wasn’t nothing. You know it wasn’t.”

You shook your head, the tears you’d fought so hard to hold back finally spilling over. “Then why does it feel like it is? Why does it feel like I’m just… another sacrifice?” You couldn’t look at him. If you did, you felt like you’d lose your mind and crush your already broken heart.

Chan closed the distance between you, his hands resting on your arms as he pulled you close, his forehead touching yours. “You’re not a sacrifice,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re everything to me. That’s why this hurts so damn much.”

Your eyes remained closed, cheeks red and warm, breaths shallow and broken, as if anything you both could come up with would ever be a solution for what was about to happen. Chan held you against his chest, letting your aching tears soak his hoodie. He was holding back, he had to stay strong for the both of you.

You clung to him, fingers fisting in his hoodie, as if holding on tightly enough could somehow prevent the inevitable.

He stroked your hair gently, whispering soft words of comfort, though he knew, just as you did, that no words could fix this. Each breath he took was slow and measured, as though he were struggling to keep his composure, but you could feel the tremble in his chest, betraying the pain he was trying so hard to hide.

After what seemed like eternity, you pulled away from him and finally looked into his eyes through your blurry vision. Chan’s eyes locked with yours, encouraging you to say what you want to say at this moment.

“Chan,” His hand cupped your face. “Kiss me.” You said softly.

And so he did. Without a word escaping, his mouth crashed with yours, hungrily, desperately, as though he could pour every ounce of his love, everything left unspoken.

His hands tightened around you, pulling you closer until there was nothing between you but the pounding of your hearts. The kiss was fierce, filled with a longing so deep it felt like drowning.

You kissed him back just as fiercely, taking in his taste, his scent, allowing yourself to memorise every part of him till you were nothing but lost in the feel of him and everything outside ceased to exist.

Fierceness turned into anger as you both stumbled towards the bedroom, tearing your clothes off. His hoodie, your shirt, his shoes, your pants, until you both remained in nothing but your underwear.

Chan broke apart but came back with a roughness that sent a thrill through your body as he pushed you onto the bed and towered over you, sliding off your panties and unclasping your bra. Every inch of you was on liquid fire as Chan discarded his boxers, putting your legs up his shoulders as he buried his face in your wet heat.

A loud moan escaped your lips as his tongue feasted on your soaking cunt, lapping away your sweetness and getting drunk at the way you taste.

Your hands fisted his hair as you grind your needy pussy up his face, Chan groaned sucking on your clit like a man starved.

“Fuck baby,” His fingers gripped your soft thighs continuing his merciless assault on your throbbing nub. “Can never get enough of you.”

All you could do is moan at the way he worshipped you with his mouth and the low, husky sound of his beautiful voice.

He came upwards, kissing a hot trail over your pubic bone, your stomach, giving so much attention to your sweet nipples and crashed his mouth on yours as he sank into you in a slow, deliberate thrust.

Your body arched as you drank every drop of him, welcoming his huge length, letting him stretch you and fill you up completely. Your heart ached but your body responded to him the way it always did.

Eager and desperate.

Chan palmed your breast, swiping his thumb over the hard, sensitive nub slick with his saliva as he pounded into you in an agonising yet sweet pace, hitting spots that made you see stars over and over again.

“Chan…Chan please,”

Pleasure consumed you both whole, a hiss escaped his lips when he heard you moan, a sound that drove him insane, a sound he could listen for the rest of his life.

“Hmm, what do you want darling?” He pinched your nipple just as he slammed into you that tore a sharp cry from your throat.

I want you. With me forever

But those words couldn’t come out of your mouth. So all you could do was moan for him to go faster and harder. His fingers stroked your clit with the perfect pressure, you wanted him to keep pushing you further and further.

Nails dug into his back as he gave you what you asked for, the dimly lit room filled with moans and whimpers and skin slapping against skin. Chan’s mouth never left yours as he thrusted into you in force that felt like ecstasy, your orgasm tore through you as you came all over his cock.

He followed you soon after, a hot load of his cum gathering inside you, groaning into your neck, his huge body over you.

Sweat misted your skin, neck and chest covered in a trail of hickeys, the two of you kept climbing and crashing together for the next hour.

Every moment was perfect, like whatever that was happening before was just a bad dream and nothing was going wrong in the world. Chan wanted this to be the only thing to last a lifetime, you pressed against him, to wake up to your good morning texts, to sneak out with you in secret, to stretch this moment for however long he could take.

From sweet love making to hard fucking that left marks on your skin, you both pretended that this was the perfect life as if nothing is about to shatter you apart forever, reached till you passed out breathless on the bed.

Chan held you in his arms, a tension beginning to rebuild when the quiet room began to fill with the soft; Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

You stirred in his arms, and Chan’s grip instinctively tightened around you, his warmth seeping into your skin as if he could brand this moment into memory. He wanted to say something, anything, to tell you how much you meant to him, how deeply he wished this night could be endless.

“Bang Chan,” an icy voice cut through the tense conference room, the PR’s voice cutting through the silence, “you know why we’re here.”

Chan’s jaw tightened, his heart already beating hard in his chest. He nodded, though his mind clung desperately to the hope that this conversation would turn out differently than he feared.

“It’s come to our attention that you’ve been seen with…” The executive hesitated, the distaste in his tone achingly clear. “A certain individual. You know the implications this has, not only for you but for the group as a whole.”

Chan’s fists clenched under the table. "I know," he admitted, voice low but steady. "But she’s not just anyone. She’s—”

"She’s a liability," another manager cut in, eyes hard as steel. "You’ve worked years for this career, Chan. Years. We’ve all sacrificed too much for it to be jeopardized by… personal entanglements.”

“She’s not a liability,” Chan said, fighting to keep the anger from his voice. “She’s important to me, and I’ve been careful—"

“Careful?” The PR head shook his head. “If you’d been careful, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. You were lucky it was Miss Jia who spotted you. Can you imagine the disaster that would have come if it was a fan or paparazzi?”

Chan’s face paled as the PR head's words hit him with the weight of harsh reality. He’d been cautious, always looking over his shoulder, timing each meeting down to the minute. But deep down, he knew they were right. No amount of care could guarantee safety from prying eyes forever.

"We’ve considered all the options, and there is no room for compromise on this. The only way to protect your career is to end this relationship, quietly and immediately.”

A wave of dread settled over him, pressing down like a weight he couldn’t shake off. He swallowed, his throat tight. "So you’re asking me to choose… between her and everything I’ve worked for?"

"No," the executive corrected him coldly. "We’re telling you to choose your career.”

The ultimatum struck like a wrecking ball, leaving him feeling hollow and defeated. He glanced down at the table, the polished surface reflecting back his own tortured expression.

He’d known there was a risk—had tried to prepare himself for something like this. But hearing the words was like a knife twisting in his chest.

“I… I need time to think,” he said, barely recognizing his own voice, rough with emotion.

“There’s no time, Chan,” his manager replied softly, though the finality in his voice was unmistakable. “If you care about her, if you truly want what’s best for her… you’ll understand that this is the only choice.”

A painful clarity began to settle in as he saw the faces around him—faces he had trusted, faces he had worked with for years. And there, hidden behind their demands and their concern for the group, was an unforgiving reality.

Slowly, he nodded, his face etched with an unimaginable kind of pain.

“Fine. I’ll… I’ll end it.”

But his voice caught in his throat, the weight of goodbye pressing down on him like an anchor.

You sensed his struggle, you lifted your head to look at him. In the dim light, you could see the tears glistening in his eyes, barely held back. Your heart clenched, a sharp pang of pain blooming inside your chest as you realized the inevitable was catching up to you both.

"Don't look at me like that," you whispered, your voice trembling, but you managed a sad, fragile smile. "It’s going to make it harder.”

Chan let out a shaky breath, his fingers reaching up to brush a strand of hair from your face, his thumb lingering against your cheek. “I don’t want to make it harder,” he replied softly. “But I… I don’t know how to let you go. I can't let you go.”

“Then don’t,” you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “Just...” You sighed heavily.

You took his hand, holding it against your cheek, feeling the warmth of his palm, the calluses that spoke of years of dedication, of sacrifice, qualities that had once made you admire him and had now become the reason he couldn’t stay.

The irony was cruel.

“You know it’s not that simple. If I could…” His voice broke, and he took a deep breath, trying to keep his composure. “If I could choose anyone, anything, I’d choose you, every time.”

“I know…” your voice trailed off. You smiled, your chin wobbling as you looked at him with those for one last moment. Time has come. You have to leave.

Regret and guilt splashed across Chan’s face as he realised your expression, you reluctantly pulled away from him and started changing into your clothes.

The warmth he’d given you faded instantly, replaced by the icy grip of reality that hung heavy between you. Each movement felt slow, as though you were wading through something thick and unyielding, like your body refused to obey the decision your heart could barely stand.

Chan watched you as you slipped into your clothes, he pushed the blanket over and changed into his shorts, and gripped your wrist as you both made it to the living room.

You turned quickly and looked at his grip then at him, his beautiful woody brown eyes refusing to let the tears fall but they rimmed red, the way his lashes cast shadows on his cheeks, the love and pain.

“I’ll be okay,” you said, as much for yourself as for him, though your voice wavered. “Someday, I will be. And so will you.”

His eyes shut tightly, as if the words were a physical blow, and he nodded, though you could see the struggle etched into his features.

“Promise me,” he murmured, his voice breaking. “Promise me you’ll be okay. Even if I’m not there.”

You swallowed back the sob that threatened to escape and nodded, squeezing his hand. “I promise.”

A tear slipped down his cheek, and he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, then your cheeks, then your lips, each one a goodbye of its own. You let him, savouring each moment, each touch, letting it wrap around you like armour, a last memory to keep close when everything else is gone.

“I'm sorry I broke your heart…”

You could have sworn that you heard a genuine crack in your chest the moment those words left his lips. Your hand slapped over your mouth to cover the shattering sob that threatened to consume you.

You looked up at Chan, tears running down your cheeks, smiling painfully, stroking his cheek.

“My heart is yours. Yours to love, yours to keep, yours to break.”

Chan pulled you hard into his embrace, finally letting his tears fall, your hands gripping his back, as you both cried your hearts out to each other one last time.

Snippets of your shared moments crowded your mind—all the cute dates, late night facetimes, sweetly secret gifts, Chan introducing you to his members—there was no room to breathe.

“I'm sorry…I'm sorry…I'm sorry…” That's all he could say. That's all he was allowed to say.

Your fingers brushed through his hair as you held him close, memorizing every detail, knowing this would be the last time. The warmth of his skin, the feel of his chest rising and falling against you, the scent that was uniquely his—it all wrapped around you, making it even harder to breathe, harder to let go.

“Chan…” you whispered, voice trembling. “Even if I walk away now, even if you have to let me go… I’ll still love you. I’ll always love you.”

“I’ll love you, too. No matter what.” His voice broke again, barely holding back another wave of grief. “In some other life… maybe we could’ve had forever.”

There was a universe somewhere, you believed, where you and Chan got to share all the dreams you whispered to each other late at night, where you didn’t have to be a secret, where his love didn’t have to be a risk.

But not here. Not now.

You softly pulled him and leaned up, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, feeling the final feel of his skin against your lips. “Goodbye, Chan...” you whispered, the words catching in your throat.

He closed his eyes, as if it would help make it easier, but his hand lingered in yours a moment longer.

“Goodbye, my love…” he breathed, his voice no more than a broken whisper.

With every ounce of strength you had left, you let go, turning and walking out of the apartment. The sound of the door clicking shut behind you echoed like a death sentence, filling the silence with finality.

Each step you took away from him felt heavier, as though pieces of your heart were left scattered on the floor behind you. You tried your hardest not to look back, knowing that if you did, it would only pour salt to the already deep wound.

Inside, Chan impulsively grabbed the vase that was sitting on his coffee table throwing it at the wall, which shattered in a powerful crash that felt like a gunshot and collapsed back onto the couch, head falling between his hands as he let the grief he’d been holding back flood over him again.

The empty apartment was now as cold and hollow as he felt, each memory of you hanging in the air like ghosts he could never escape. And as he sat there, drowning in the silence, he could almost still feel the warmth of your embrace, the lingering traces of your touch that would fade too soon.

All that remained now were echoes—the echo of your voice, your laughter, all slipping through his fingers like sand.

And he knew, no matter what, he’d always carry this ache with him, a part of his heart forever held by someone he was never meant to keep.

Some goodbyes leave scars, not because love wasn't enough, but because it was everything.

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Enjoyed this one shot? Consider checking my masterlist for more. Requests? Check 𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 (& 𝚁𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜)

Thank you for reading!

xx,Ivyy

[vanesycho]

rockstar gf!reader x bf!haechan headcanon | m.list

⌕word count:1k

warnings | nsfw, jerking off, dirty talk, eating out.

a/n | I hope you like it baby🤍 @ldh0000

enjoy reading！

★ He's your number one fan. He never fails to watch every one of your comebacks with a smile on his face and pride. Even though he doesn't show this pride to you most of the time. "Of course you did a good job. You're my girlfriend."

★ He likes to follow your style, he likes to dress the way you dress. Sometimes he doesn't hesitate to ask for your advice and loves to share his leather jacket with you.

★ He loves it when you go on stage with his jewelry. He gives you his own ring even though he knows it won't fit your finger, and when he sees you wearing it as a necklace in the next performance, he completely loses control.

★ Doing his makeup is one of his favorite activities. While you're sitting on his lap, his hand on your waist, he'll occasionally hold himself back from sticking his lips to yours while he examines your entire face. We can say that he completely inherited his obsession with using eyeliner from you and can't stop it now.

★ His social media accounts are full of you. Photos of you on stage, photos of you at home, photos of you working on a song in the studio... And the list goes on, he doesn't forget to write notes under each photo about how much he loves you. I wasn't lying when I said he's your number one fan...

★ It doesn't matter to him whether he's on the backstage or in the crowd, but he likes to shoot you from the front with his camera. Sometimes when you spot him in the crowd and walk up to him and look him in the eye while sing the lyrics, it literally melts him, and you know it very well.

★ He loves playing your guitar. Helping you with the notes while you hum the lyrics is his favorite thing, after a while you may find him getting carried away by your beauty and stop playing the guitar to look at you with admiration.

★ You know he loves singing your songs out loud and you are aware of how beautiful his voice is. So one day when you invite him to sing with you on stage, he looks at you in surprise and tries to make sure you are not joking. But after he accept, he realizes that it was the best decision he ever made. He approaches you when doesn’t care about the crowd, staring lovingly at every detail of your face, and he is captivated by the music and more so by you. When the music ends, he doesn’t forget to give you a small kiss on the lips before leaving the stage to you.

！Nsfw Content！

★ Fucking in backstage and in the studio... It’s a thousand times better than fucking in a bed. Well sometimes you can write inappropriate lyrics in your songs and it can turn Haechan on immediately. He likes to whisper dirty words in your ear while kissing your neck from behind. "I swear you were thinking of me while writing these. Why don't we do it again? I can give you new inspirations." You could almost say that fucking in the backstage has become a tradition. He knows how nervous you are to sing this every time a new song comes out, and he likes to get rid of that nervousness. While your fans are excitedly waiting for you to go on stage, they have no idea that Haechan is eating you out until you relieve your stress. "Just leave yourself to me, you don't have to do anything, baby. But if you really want to, you can help me out at the end of the night as a way to thank me."

★ Sometimes he tells you to sit on his lap while you write the lyrics, so he'll feel better because he'll be close to you. But when your hips are right next to his bulge, you can find him laying you on the table and fucking you. He just can't stay still, and everything you do makes him so much more excited. While you're on his lap, his hand wanders around your leg helplessly, his lips kissing your neck. "I don't think a little break would hurt anyone. Come on, is it more important the song you wrote for your fans or your boyfriend who's been waiting for you for hours with this bulge?"

★ Every time he sees you playing the guitar, he can't stop thinking about your beautiful fingers around his cock. When his eyes are actually on your face, he slowly moves down to see how your fingers move over the strings, and it makes him lean back and completely lose himself in the situation he's in. When you stop playing the guitar, he'll just whine. "Is it over? Please play it one more time. You know that's my favorite song." And fingers? Fingers. At the end of the day, he'll lean his head back and close his eyes while you're jerking him off, and he'll make a huge mess as he finally gets what he's dreamed of. "Oh sorry..I- keep going..Please..I'm still hard, fuck-"

★ He's definitely vocal and he's not afraid to show it. Sometimes it scares you to know that he can reach a higher note than you, but on the other hand, it's something you enjoy. Haechan is a big switch and he can do it both ways very well. When he’s on top he doesn’t hesitate to use his deep voice on you, he loves to tease you and for him listening to your moan with that beautiful voice of yours is the most beautiful melody he’s ever heard. “Yeah, that’s it..Don’t hide your beautiful voice from me, scream and shout as much as you want, I can see you doing it on stage, you can do it for me too, right?”. When he’s on bottom, things don’t change much. He’s still a naughty horny brat and that shows more when he’s on bottom. Sometimes he’ll turn you on before you go on stage and when he leaves you like that you have to sing with that wetness for hours and seeing him excitedly await the punishment he’ll receive from you at the end of the night reminds you of how naughty he is again. “You know I didn’t do this on purpose…I’m sorry baby, are you really going to punish me?” He’s been waiting for this moment for hours.

[bogleech]

These replies meant well but they miss the point, we are absolutely dealing with a fanatical hive minded cult here. Zombie and Sheep are completely appropriate euphemisms for people who willingly chose not to think for themselves, and if Trump says the sky is green then his whole barking, flopping gaggle of drunken seals will not only immediately believe the sky is green, they will also believe you're a baby-eating commie satanist if you think it's ever been blue.

I'm just going to copy/paste what I already added before:

-

"The number of people who seriously didn't know anything other than "he said he'd fix the economy" can't be that common. And if you ever heard him speak, you heard him define "fixing the economy" as "shutting down the border," because his single biggest campaign tool has been the complete and utter lie that "illegals" are a significant drain on the economy or that they're on the rise. Both are false. The vast, vast majority of his supporters, I'd say well over 99%, maybe more like several hundred to one, hold at least one, normally several of the following beliefs:

That there are bloodthirsty foreign devils deliberately invading at all times from the Southern border, and they can be blamed for the financial struggles of the "legal" citizens.

Anyone outside the traditional gender norms is an insatiable pervert and wants to corrupt innocent children.

Those who get abortions or in some cases even use birth control are murderers and filthy whores.

People in poverty are just lazy druggies who didn't care or try hard enough and brought all of their suffering on themselves.

The Disabled and in fact anyone unable to just work, work, work and work for at least some retail shit are a burden to be scorned.

Everyone bombed and killed by the U.S. military or any of its allied countries is always either a terrorist or an acceptable sacrifice in the fight against terrorists.

Police brutality is overstated and most people hurt or killed by cops did something to deserve it, but most especially minorities, who may or may not be genetically predisposed to crime.

An idea that Jewish people secretly control the world through a vast interconnected conspiracy that may also involve demon worship and child trafficking.

Doctors and scientists are liars who drain money from the economy and are wrong about everything that might inconvenience a rich man.

Non-Christians of any kind are degenerate and dangerous.

Trump's entire platform, and that of all other GOP candidates these days, is a deliberately fuzzy promise to act on any or all of these hysterical prejudices. He's most consistent about the first one and made it pretty much the central pillar of his whole campaign, because the paranoia over an imaginary "border crisis" is by far the most popular culture war uniting the right. Which is pretty fucking sad considering just how utterly fabricated it is, and how effortless it is to find that out in only seconds. However, not all conservatives subscribe to all of the same moral panics at the same time, so right wing influencers spend a lot of time weeping and gnashing over "liberalism" or "socialism" or this word that rhymes with "yoke" so that every one of their stupid, angry grovelers can read into it as a promise to defeat whatever it is those words mean in their mushy fucking brains. The single most important thing to understand of all, though, is that the lies are not what make them hate people. They already wanted to hate those people. The lies are concocted after the fact to justify the deeds they want to commit. They are stupid, scared, gullible and weak but they are also willfully spiteful with a massive punishment fetish, so when you get enough of them together they can actually wreak havoc. The point of my original post was that they're not anything as cool or impressive as evil nefarious villains. They're more comparable to a mindless but inexorable flood of sewage.

-

I will also add: almost all of them categorize other human beings as "illegal aliens," and to them those aren't just words, but an actual demographic label they want to force on anyone who didn't fill out all the right forms, which they want enforced as an unforgivable crime.

Getting upset that I turn around and throw "dehoominizing langwidge" back at them is honestly a little ridiculous and even kind of uncomfortable, like if you saw a guy beating his wife and patted him gently on the back to remind him he matters. No he doesn't! Put a knife in that hand first! Referring to violent xenophobes as zombies or animals or vermin shouldn't bother you any more than calling them shitheads or assholes or even just jerks, because all possible words and language are completely inconsequential compared to their actual efforts at legislative dehumanization.

That's what "dehumanization" actually is. Not calling someone a dog or a ghoul in words, which is merely an expression of how ugly their behavior has become. Dehumanization is the actual treatment, by action, of other people as less worthy of basic rights and that is what they set out to do every single day. Like are some of you seriously that sheltered and naive. Yeesh. If you're personally acquainted with that one-in-a-million kind-hearted well meaning oaf who ignorantly supports the right wing out of innocent childlike ignorance, congrats but it doesn't change a thing and maybe your poor sweet gentle pet maga should have cared enough to know what they were voting for?

Young people have GOT to stop talking about conservatives like they're scary menacing monsters. Yes the policies they back are horrifically destructive but that's entirely because of how individually stupid, fearful, emotionally stunted, weak willed and catastrophically gullible they are. That all is what made them become right wing to begin with. Just the most easily manipulated zombie sheep on earth.

[runnning-outof-time]

If It’s Meant to Be | John Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: John Shelby x fem!Reader

Summary: John and (Y/N) were friends when they were younger. Life, as life does, pulls them apart for some time before they find each other again while (Y/N) is helping someone who happened to be lost.

Warnings: season 4 spoilers…maybe?? (I’m re-writing canon to make things better), language

Word Count: 4450

A/N: if I’m being honest I quite enjoyed following your prompt/request, anon! I hope I was able to add everything you were hoping into it and that it turned out along the lines of what you were imagining! I’m sorry that it’s taken ages for me to share. Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

comment/message me if you want to be tagged!

If it’s meant to be, it’ll be. That phrase gets thrown around so much. John Shelby always thought that he and (Y/N) (Y/L/N) were meant to be. But things didn’t quite work out that way…at first.

They were practically inseparable as teens. All it took was one meeting near the cut for the two to know that they wanted to be in each others lives for as long as possible.

Wherever (Y/N) was, John was to be found close by. If John was out doing something, nine times out of ten (Y/N) was helping out in some way.

Family members often joked that the two were attached at the hip. Ada even went as far as to conspire with (Y/N)’s younger sister, the two saying that they were excited to become future sister-in-laws.

But things don’t always work out to plan.

The dream of the families uniting as one through John and (Y/N)’s union crumbled slowly rather than it just being one, major blow.

(Y/N) started delving more into her studies; having big dreams of graduating and going further in schooling so that she could make something of herself. She’d always wanted to have more than just the lower-level jobs that Small Heath had to offer. She still tried to see John as much as she could, but the nights that were once spent gallivanting around the streets together had now been swapped for study sessions.

John couldn’t be completely mad at his friend. He wanted her to succeed and have the life that she was dreaming of. Sure he missed her company, and truly relished in the time that they were still able to spend together, but to say that he was now left completely in his lonesome would be a lie.

John met Martha Davies when she and her family moved to Small Heath.

Unlike how he was with (Y/N), who he tried so hard to hide his deeper feelings for behind the mask of friendship, John immediately went forward with expressing his desire to get to know Martha better.

While (Y/N) was busy with studying, John was busy with Martha. It was easy to tell how quickly the two had fallen for each other.

The news - though it really shouldn’t have given how quickly the two became…acquainted with each other - came as a shock just only six months into John knowing Martha. Hell, (Y/N) had only met her a handful of times before John was excitedly telling her the news that Martha was pregnant and he was going to be a father.

(Y/N) should have been happy for him. And on the outside she tried her best to present her emotions that way. But deep down, her real feelings that she’d been harboring towards her friend for years now were being crushed. She always pushed them aside for fear that he only purely saw her as a friend; for the fear that her revealing them would cause him to run from her life forever. Now there was no way that he’d ever know of them.

John, who was just a few months shy from his final teenage year, was now going to be a husband and father — he felt it was only right that he marry Martha given the fact that they’d now share a child.

If John was going to grow up this suddenly, (Y/N) felt that she should to. Her prelininary studies were finished and she was ready to go and make something of herself.

And so she moved to London, one step closer to her dream but many miles away from the person who grew up alongside her.

— 1924 —

Ada was the first to learn that (Y/N) was back in town. She didn’t waste any time in inviting her to what the Shelby woman promised would be ‘an amazing evening’.

Many things had changed since (Y/N) had last seen the Shelbys. One of the more major ones was the fact that they had quickly rose into wealth and power.

On this particular evening, Tommy and his new wife, Grace, were holding one of their regular events; where people of power and prospective business partners gathered to shake hands and attempt to make deals. It was a circle that (Y/N) felt she was so far removed from.

Ada’s persistence was hard to ignore though. She kept focusing on the fact that it was a different sort of event for the family invovled, and that everyone would be thrilled to see her again. (Y/N) couldn’t deny the fact that she, too, would be overjoyed to see the Shelbys again…even if it meant that her heart might break.

She made sure to wear one of her more sophisticated outfits and that her appearance was as perfect as it could get. When the time to leave arrived, she checked over herself in the mirror one last time before grabbing her clutch and heading down to the car that was waiting for her.

The manor she pulled up to left her in awe. Never did she expect to be welcomed into a place as grand as this. But if there was anyone in her life, past or present, who could be capable of obtaining this sort of grandeur, it would no doubt be Tommy Shelby.

“(Y/N)!” Of course Ada was the first person to find her. “I’m so happy you came!” the brunette exclaimed as she hasitly pulled her into a hug.

“You doubted I would?” (Y/N) asked, trying to focus on her friend rather than the crowd of people present in the grand foyer area of the manor. If there’s this many people in the entry room, how many would be in the banquet hall? she thought to herself.

“Never,” the other woman shook her head, “come with me. The others will be so excited that you’re here!” she then said, taking hold of (Y/N)’s forearm so that she could lead her into the banquet hall. (Y/N) hesitantly followed, not quite wanting to see the man she used to call ‘best friend’ just yet.

Thankfully Ada pulled her to Polly first. (Y/N) was happy to see her. Polly was just as much an aunt to her as she was the Shelby siblings. And, much like Ada had promised, the older woman was thrilled to see her again.

Time quickly slipped away and (Y/N) truly felt like the tiny group that had been assembled were the only ones in the room. She quickly slipped into a comfortable state, the crowds of people truly disappearing as the women caught up on everything they’d missed out on in the others’ lives.

Ada was the first to be pulled away. She was found by one of the house’s staff — which blew (Y/N)’s mind…Tommy had staff now?! — who needed her because Karl was becoming restless and ready for bed. She promised that she’d only be gone briefly and that she’d find Polly and (Y/N) again as soon as she was finished.

Polly got pulled away too. Tommy needed her to meet a prospective business partner. He greeted (Y/N) warmly — after he realized it was her — and expressed his gladness to see her before asking his aunt to join him for a moment.

Now (Y/N) was alone in this crowded hall of people. She stood and did some crowd-watching for some time (people just being people truly fascinated her) before deciding to go and find some refreshments to indulge in.

But she didn’t make it to said refreshments table…and it seemed that she wasn’t the only person who was alone at the party.

Although there were people moving all around, it seemed as though she was the only person who noticed the small boy who was cowering into himself with fear present in his eyes.

Cautiously, and with a friendly smile, she approached the child, whose bottom lip was quivering. It was evident that he’d been crying. “Do you need help, sweetheart?” she asked him, keeping her voice calm and level in hopes to not spook him any more than he already had been.

The boy only nodded his head, his wide eyes matching hers. The desperation present in them nearly broke (Y/N)’s heart.

“Are you hurt?” she asked a question.

The boy shook his head, ringing his small hands together.

(Y/N) inwardly sighed in relief. At least he’s not hurt, she thought to herself, now what could be the matter? After racking her brain, she asked another question, “are you looking for someone?”

The boy nodded this time. More relief filled (Y/N)’s body. He said nothing in addition to his nod, though, so she still had some more questions to ask.

“A friend?” she asked, remembering that she’d seen several children running around the room earlier.

The boy shook his head.

“A grown up?”

The boy nodded.

Ok, on the right track, (Y/N) thought, nodding along with him. “Your parents?” she asked.

“M-my dad,” the boy finally spoke, his mouse-like voice breaking (Y/N)’s heart. What he said next shattered it even further into pieces, “my mummy’s not here anymore. She…my aunt said she went to heaven.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, sweetie,” (Y/N) gave her condolences with a frown. “How about we go find your dad, hmm?” she then asked, offering another friendly smile.

“Ok,” the boy nodded, reaching his hand out for (Y/N) to take. The woman smiled as she accepted it, and the two began walking, searching through the crowd for his father.

“Let me know if you see him, ok?” (Y/N) said to the boy. She’d just realized that she had no idea who his father was.

“Johnny there you are!” a young girl exclaimed, her eyes set on the boy (Y/N) had been helping.

“We were looking everywhere for you!” a second girl chimed in.

(Y/N) looked down at the boy, whose expression hadn’t changed. She crouched down slightly to be more on his level. “Do you know them?” she asked him.

The boy nodded. “They’re my sisters,” he answered, his eyes still focused on the girls, who were now approached them.

“Who are you, miss?” the older of the two girls asked once they stopped in front of (Y/N) and the boy.

“My name’s (Y/N),” the woman introduced herself with a smile, “your brother was lost and needed some help finding your dad.”

“Well we don’t know where dad is either,” the younger of the two girls stated in a matter-of-fact tone, “but Johnny can come with us. We’re dancing.”

(Y/N) looked to the boy, who had calmed down significantly now. “Is it ok if you stay with your sisters?” she asked, her eyebrows raised slightly.

The boy nodded his head, the slightest of smiles now present on his face. (Y/N) smiled back, happy that he was no longer upset. But he caught her hand before she was able to stand up straight again. “Will you stay with us, Miss (Y/N)?” he asked in a sweet voice.

The question really wasn’t up for decision in (Y/N)’s mind. She knew her answer right away. Hell, she had nothing else better to do, or no one else she needed to see…so why not pass the time with these kids? “Of course,” she answered with a smile, laughing softly as the three children all cheered in joy. The little group wasted no time falling into beat with the music and dancing with smiles on their faces.

Unbeknownst to (Y/N), Polly and Ada had regrouped and were now watching her and the children as they danced.

“I wonder if she knows,” Ada queried out loud, watching her friend dance with her neices and nephew with a small smile.

“I don’t think she does,” Polly answered, shaking her head. A tight-lipped smile was also present on her face.

“You two seen any of the kids anywhere?” the voice of John Shelby came from behind the ladies, “ran off a while ago…haven’t fucking seen them since.”

Ada and Polly shared a look, both biting back smiles. John was able to catch said look.

“Well go on…share it,” he pressed them, his brow furrowing in annoyance. He didn’t have time for this…there were drinks to drink and ladies to charm. If they thought he’d be spending the entire evening chasing after his children, they’d be dead wrong.

“Your youngest was up with Karl. He was asleep when I went to attend to him,” Ada shared some information about Maxwell Shelby, John’s four year old.

“And the others?” John’s brows were now raised.

“They’re right over there,” Polly answered, pointing a finger in the direction of the dancing group.

John wasted no time following her finger and when he did, his world stopped. No. That…that couldn’t be her…could it? Questions raced through his mind as memories flooded back. God, she looks more beautiful than the day she left me, he was so entranced that he just about forgot how to breathe.

“John?”

The voice of his aunt brought him back to reality, and he shook his head as he snapped out of the trance she put him in. A hand went up to scratch the back of his neck instinctively, and he hoped that he could play off his staring. The grins on both of the women’s faces told another story.

“He didn’t hear a word you said, Pol,” Ada snickered, loving the fact that she was able to poke fun at her brother.

“Oh fuck off,” John grumbled, trying so hard to keep his focus on his family and not the beautiful woman that was still playing with his children. A silence fell between the trio and John took it to do just what he was stopping himself from moments ago. “I…I, uh, I should…” he stopped his babbling, clearing his throat and trying to regain his wits. Christ, just the sight of her had him babbling like a fucking child. “I should probably uh, probably go over and see how they’re getting on,” his statement sounded more like a suggestion…which was weird because he was essentially suggesting for himself to go and do it.

“Go on then,” Polly wasted no time in agreeing with her nephew, motioning over to where (Y/N) and the children still were.

“Yeah,” John agreed, like it wasn’t even his idea in the first place. He didn’t move though.

“Grow a pair and get on with it, John,” Ada snapped him out of the trance he once again fell into, still grinning at the fact that John was very much acting like a lovesick fool at the moment. In fact she hadn’t seem him like this since…well since he was around (Y/N).

With one last glare, John finally heeded to their nudges and started off in (Y/N)’s direction. Her back was to him as he approached, and she was dancing with his eldest son, Johnny. His daughters, Jane and Katie, did see him coming though, their eyes lighting up when they realized he was there.

“Daddy!” they exclaimed in unison.

The yelling of the girls made (Y/N) stop what she was doing and turn. Seeing the person who they’d addressed made the breath get caught in her throat. No. It can’t be, she thought to herself, her heartrate quickening by the second.

John was - also - back to staring again. He still couldn’t believe that she was standing right in front of him.

“Dad…dad, did you hear me?” the sound of Katie’s impatient voice brought him back to reality. He focused in on his daughter as he heard the sweet sounds of (Y/N)’s giggles. They made it feel like there was heat being placed on the back of his neck.

“I…I didn’t, sweetheart, I’m sorry,” he sheepishly answered his child.

“I was telling you that this is (Y/N). She found Johnny and then agreed to stay and dance with us. She’s really nice,” Katie explained again.

Her being referred to gave John the go ahead to look at (Y/N) again. This time he willed himself to stay focused and not get lost in the memories they shared together, or how beautiful she looked.

“She helped me because I was crying and didn’t know where anyone was,” Johnny shared, “she’s really friendly. I think we could all be friends.”

John couldn’t help but chuckle a little as he watched (Y/N) stiffle her laugh. “Yeah, Johnny, I, uh…I—” God you look like a babbling fool right now, get ahold on yourself, John-boy, was ringing out in John’s mind.

(Y/N) watched him intently, waiting to hear how he would address the past between them. Would he address the past between them?

“I used to know (Y/N)…we used to be best friends when we was younger,” he finally shared with the children, feeling silly for holding his breath as he waited for their response.

There was a moment’s pause as the three little Shelbys looked at each other. It felt like eternity to the two adults, who looked as if they wanted to say so much to each other. Soon smiles formed on the children’s faces.

“That’s great that you’re already friends with her, daddy!” Katie exclaimed, beaming up at John.

“When can she come over?” Jane eagerly asked, her question making (Y/N) laugh as her heart bursted with love.

“That’ll be up to her,” John answered, laughing at his childrens innocent questions, the heat still creeping up his neck.

“Your father and I will have to talk about it,” (Y/N) added her own response, a sweet smile present on her features. She then looked at John, her expression telling him that they’d have to find each other later to catch up.

“Please talk about it later, daddy!” Johnny exclaimed, a pleading look present on his face.

“I will, Johnny, I will,” he assured the boy, nodding both to him and to (Y/N), silently accepting her invitation.

(Y/N) was resting against one of the balconies on the side terrace of the manor later that evening when she heard footsteps approaching her. She didn’t bother to turn and look; having a good idea of who could be coming.

“You followed through with the invitation,” she commented as John came to a rest beside her.

“Always do, angel,” John responded, his usage of her old nickname making her heart flutter.

It was one that he frequently used when they were younger…she was always doing the right thing; always acting like an angel. John loved to call her it in a teasing manner and though she’d wrinkle her nose up when he used it, she secretly loved it. Tonight, however, he used it in a sincere manner, and it just about made (Y/N) weak at the knees.

“You don’t know how surprised I was when I saw you with me kids,” John admitted then, looking out at the grounds his brother owned.

“The surprise was pretty clear on your face, John,” (Y/N) responded, giggling as his eyes shot to match hers; wide in surprise.

“Never was good at hiding stuff from you,” he said in a sheepish tone, shaking his head. “How’d you find out about this?” he asked then.

“Ada found out I was back in town. She invited me,” she answered. John made a mental note to thank his sister later. “It was nice meeting your kids,” she said with a smile.

“They’ll probably talk about you for days,” he said with a laugh, looking away from her for a moment. “Only good things I’ve left,” he mused, his tone sounded solemn.

Silence fell between them as (Y/N) chewed on her bottom lip, wondering if she should offer her condolences or not. She didn’t know if the wounds were still fresh, or when it had even happened. “I’m sorry about Martha, John,” she finally said.

“I am, too,” he responded, looking down at his feet as he took a deep breath, “feel bad for those kids most of all. They didn’t really even get to know her.”

“That must’ve been tough,” (Y/N) mused.

“It was…” John agreed, “it has been,” he then corrected.

“I’m home now, so I’m…”

“You’re home?” John cut into her statement, his eyes widening as they found hers again.

“I am,” she affirmed, smiling softly before continuing, “I’d be happy to help you with your kids if you need at all.”

John smiled as he heard what she said. He couldn’t lie, he was suprised by how gracious she was being. There were a thousand words he wanted to say, but all he was able to get out was: “thank you, (Y/N).”

For her, it was enough.

Silence fell between them once again as (Y/N) wrestled with yet another thought; one that she’d been wanting to say since he joined her outside. After a few moments, she finally took the leap and said it.

“You know, I always thought we’d end up together…I always thought that it’d be us,” she made sure to train her eyes on the darkened landscape as she spoke. She couldn’t handle seeing John’s expression as it changed.

“I…” John hesitated.

“That wasn’t me trying to insert myself into anything. I’m sorry if it sounded that way,” she scrambled to cover up, not even thinking of how he could have taken her admission. “I just…I wanted that to be known. I spent too long dancing around it without saying what I felt,” she took a deep breath, debating on whether to add anything more. There was one more thing she was burning to say, “I had-have a lot of love for you, John.”

It took a few moments for him to digest what she had said. Never did he think that she’d be admitting these feelings to him. He always thought that he’d have to keep his boxed away for the rest of his life. But now she’d put hers out in the open, it would be silly of him to withhold his.

“Hey,” he started, wanting to get her to look at him before he shared his confession. His one word statement succeeded in getting her eyes to match his. “I’ve always loved you, (Y/N),” he admitted, his voice holding a sincereness he hadn’t used in a while.

“You’re being serious?” she asked, the corners of her lips twitching as she wanted to smile so big right now.

“So serious,” he whispered, smiling as he spoke.

“I…” she paused to let out a laugh, feeling so silly for what she was about to admit to him, “I really wanna kiss you right now, John Shelby.”

“Then kiss me, (Y/N),” he wasted no time in agreeing to what she was suggesting, slowly moving to rest his hands on her waist. He was gentle in his touch, silently letting her know that she could break away if she wanted. She didn’t.

(Y/N) reached to take hold of his jacket’s lapels before leaning in slightly. John got the message, meeting her halfway so that their lips could—finally— meet. The — what felt like — lifetime’s wait for this moment was most certainly worth it.

— Three Years Later —

“Katie!” (Y/N) called out, knowing that the eldest child was in the next room over. Her joyful scream was a distinctive one, and the woman was able to hear it amongst at least two others. It didn’t take long before the girl appeared in the archway of the room John and (Y/N) were sitting in.

“Yes?” she asked, trying to catch her breath. It was obvious that she’d been playing.

“I need you and your siblings to try and keep your voices down, ok?” (Y/N) kindly asked.

“Why’s that, mum?” the young girl inquired.

(Y/N) froze before she could give her answer, her mouth agape. Katie had just called her ‘mum’.

Thankfully John was able to step in and continue the conversation—because it had became obvious to him that (Y/N) couldn’t. “Because mum’s just gotten Ella to sleep. We don’t want her to wake again,” he explained, motioning to the baby that was sleeping on (Y/N)’s chest.

“Ok, dad,” Katie conceded without a fight. Both John and (Y/N) gave a soft thanks and watched as she went to leave. She’d only moved from the arch for a second before returning to say one last thing, “you should know that it’s really Max who was making all of the noise.”

Her statement made both adults laugh. “Go on,” John waved her off. The girl gave one more toothy smile before running off to her siblings.

“Did she…?” (Y/N) finally got out, surprise laced into her words.

“She did,” John grinned as he looked at his wife, “mum.”

It may have seemed like nothing special to someone looking on, but to (Y/N), what just happened was monumental. This was the first time Katie Shelby had called her mum.

(Y/N) and John hardly spent a moment separated since the night they rekindled their friendship…which quickly turned into a relationship…which quickly turned into them getting married and having a child together.

With their dear little Eloise being born just five months ago, both felt that their family was now perfect. But even though (Y/N) took on the role of mother to John’s four children in every sense of the term, she never forced the kids to address her by the name. Martha was their mum, and not even her being gone could change that.

One by one, though, the kids began calling her mum. Katie was the last to hold out. The eldest girl would always address her as ‘(Y/N)’, and (Y/N) was perfectly fine with that. Which is why when the girl used the ‘m-word’ just now, she froze in her tracks. She couldn’t help but blush as she looked at John, who was grinning like a fool.

“She called me mum,” she whispered again, more to herself than anything.

“She did,” John repeated, his voice soft as he smiled at his wife.

If it’s meant to be, it’ll be is the phrase that always gets thrown around. Luckily — thankfully — for John and (Y/N), it was meant to be.

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @the-anxious-youth @mystcldydrms @look-at-the-soul @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing

@evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @watercolorskyy

@strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @stevie75 @dark-academia-slut

@zablife @cillmequick @letal-y-poetica @depxiety @shelundeadxxxx

@red-riding-wood @padfootdaredmetoo @crabat-the-queen @sebastianstangirl01 @everythingelseisextra

@kmc1989 @papichulo120627 @brummiereader @adaydreamaway08 @justrainandcoffee

@peakyltd @johannelis2302nely @ce1iat @wildheartsalwaysburn @dragons-are-my-favorite

@jessimay89 @slaymybreathaway @mysticalfuncollectorus @sleepyycatt @novashelby

[magesforthedas]

Just have to share this, because I keep seeing critiques of Veilguard that like, try to guilt people who say they love, or even like the game. And HEAVY critiques of the protagonist, Rook, and how they aren't really a hero.

ALSO it contains some SPOILERS so just be warned ☺️ and an edit of additional thoughts now!

Like, yeah I have a couple gripes about the game, but overall it's emotional and amazing and I care about the characters so deeply. I keep seeing how people are saying how Rook and the party were not well written because they caused a lot of death?? This is Dragon Age, everything always goes from bad to worse, but the characters always bring out the light.

Rook was put in a very shitty situation, and I've seen people say they caused the destruction of thousands by trying to prevent the hundreds. But how many people, before the game came out, said Solas's plan to tear down the veil was a bad idea? Not all, I'm sure, but most. I always viewed it, and I know I wasn't alone, as that by trying to "fix" things Solas was just justifying his selfish wants, when he knew somewhere in his heart that the people of today, including the elves that he was "doing this for", would rather live alongside their friends & family in a world without their old magic, than live in a world with it alone.

That being said, even with differing views in and out of the game, it's very reasonable that a group of people would try to stop him, not know the consequences. And the beautiful thing about Rook, why Varric chose THEM, is that they saw what they had created, and didn't give up, didn't leave it to someone else to fix. Whether or not it was really their fault they stepped up and tried to save the world the best they could, from the mistake they unwittingly made (which I would argue against the fact that they made a "mistake", looking at that they were hired to do a job & by successfully completing that job there were unintended consequences).

Parallels anyone? Dragon Age loves those. But the difference, again illustrated in the game, is that while Solas couldn't move past the regret of his mistakes, Rook could. And on the topic of the deaths of those around them, not everyone that died in the past was Solas's fault, but some he did directly lead to their deaths. And he accepted that, did it over & over. Rook never led anyone to their death. Rook walked willingly into it themselves, and the love and trust their companions felt led them to choose to die for Rook, and the world instead.

And people who say the destruction of the south means the earlier games were for nothing? How so? 20 years ago, 10 years ago, things were happening, people were dying that needed saving. The heroes of that age saved the world so it would still be around to save now. And who knows what the south really looks like, or what it might look like as and after rebuilding? We will, in another 10 years once BioWare comes out with more content I suppose, and I wouldn't be surprised if everyone we knew is dead, but I also wouldn't be surprised if many, many of them lived.

Because that is Dragon Age. Death, betrayal, sacrifice, cruelty, pain. It's a dark, dark world. But there is always a ray of light, of hope. And characters who will do their utmost to protect that .

EDIT: Adding!! To this!! And more spoilers!!!

We know because of the Wetlands that it's possible to cause the Blight to pull back. In the end scene, as people are being broken out of the Blight Roots, it seems to me like it's died, at least to some degree. In my playthrough, Neve was cured of her blight sickness. There's obviously some immediate changes, and that all means that the South could have had an immediate reprieve. Plus, once more surviving wardens from Weisshaupt are free to travel south, and all the factions up north get things relatively in order, the South could get a lot of assistance.

The South was overrun... By hordes, by growths? That's the land, what about the people? Could the combined might of the Inquisitor, the Chantry, The Free Marches, Fereldan's ruler, have evacuated enough people that the death toll might be high, but not totally catastrophic? Enough people have survived to rebuild, maybe with a better, more unified attitude towards one another?

(The last bit may be wishful thinking 🥲)

But still!! We have no idea what exactly happened down there. And no matter what, Rook did the best they could, they WERE a hero, and made a difference not only for the North, but everywhere affected.

And yes, I might complain about this or that, mainly that we don't get to put more past game decisions in.... But I love this game and that won't change.

[chuellas]

Comfort Chain | Getting caught in the rain with them

⤷ Ft. Atsushi Nakajima, Ryunosuke Akutagawa, Osamu Dazai, Chuuya Nakahara

Warnings | Fem!reader, terms of endearment used (bella, belladonna, doll, etc.), teeth rotting fluff, mention of blood in Akutagawa’s, total WC: 4.2k

A/N: Aaaahhhh I had sm fun writing these. Funny enough I had the most trouble with Chuuya’s :(

Atsushi (853 WC):

The torrential downpour has been going on for well over an hour now. A level four tsunami had been called around the same time and of course you were out during the time of the warning. 

You’ve been studying at this cafe a few blocks down from your apartment every day for almost a month now, it would have been longer, but you only just discovered the small gem. 

You wish you could say you went there for the quiet atmosphere, but if you’ ‘re being honest, there is some sort of agency in the same building that spends a lot of time in the cafe and they’re… rowdy on most days. No, you definitely didn’t come for the tranquility, what kept you coming was the cute white haired boy with the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen. His eyes are always alight with glee when he’s around his colleagues, but you think you prefer to see the relaxed and almost somber look he wears when he comes down to the cafe on his own, a truly rare occasion, but something you’ve found yourself coming back just to catch another glimpse of it even though you’re pretty sure he has no knowledge of your existence.

So, you find yourself stuck in the cafe while the world around you becomes flooded, not wanting to take the chance of your expensive laptop getting drenched and completely ruined. You have far too many valuable resources and completed assignments there to let that happen. However, you’re stuck in a sort of predicament, you have to go home sooner or later to feed your cat. You can’t just stay at this cafe forever. 

You curse at yourself for not being prepared and at least bringing an umbrella. 

Maybe you can leave your laptop here with the shop owner and pick it back up from him when the sky isn’t dumping water onto the earth below it. You pack up your things, everything but your laptop and move to get out of the booth to talk to the old man behind the counter. You freeze when the front door to the cafe bursts open and makes you jump. 

Was that the wind?

You peer behind to find the cause of the comotion only to be faced with a soaked figure that you immediately recognize at the boy from the agency upstairs. He seems a little out of breath, as if he had just ran here from somewhere in the city and not from upstairs. The owner is the first to speak up as the white haired boy scans the room, like he’s looking for someone specifically.

”What the devil…Atsu-”

The boy doesn’t let him finish, his eyes landing on you and in an instant he’s striding over to you with purpose. “I’m so sorry, Uzumaki-sama, when I come back I’ll make sure to clean up all the water I tracked in but I needed to make sure she hadn’t left yet.”

You cluelessly look around to make sure it is indeed you that the boy is talking about, as if you aren’t the only one sitting in this cafe. You look back over to find him right in front of your table, arm outstretched with an umbrella in hand. Your lips part in shock at the gesture, this boy who you didn’t really know ran all this way from wherever he was in the city just to bring you an umbrella.

“Hi…Uh…I’m Atsushi Nakajima, we haven’t actually met yet but I’ve noticed you’re here almost every day around this time. It’s hard to miss you when you’re so pretty, y’know? A-and I’ve been wanting to introduce myself! But I always chicken out at the last minute but when it started to rain out I realized you were probably stuck here with no umbrella and…well…you seem really smart, I’m sure you can figure out the rest on your own…”

You blink, your mind trying to catch up with his rapid fire rambling. His words came out so fast they almost blended together. It seems Atsushi also hadn’t realized what he was saying because the same time it dawns on you that he called you pretty and your face flushes a bit, Atsushi’s face turns beet red.

You smile at him shyly and reach out for the umbrella he’s offering. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Atsushi.”

You introduce yourself and he seems to settle down and relax, just a dusting of pink spreads across his cheeks now. “Yeah, it’s nice to finally meet you too. Do you…Would you like me to escort you home? Just to make sure you make it alright! It’s pretty bad outside right now..”

You smile at him and let out an amused puff pair through your nose as you nod your head. “Yeah. I think I’d like that.”

Atsushi smiles widely at you, his eyes shining in that way you’ve come to adore. He takes not only the umbrella from you but your bag too. You thank the shop owner on your way out and Atsushi promises, once again, to be back shortly to clean. 

Akutagawa (776 WC):

The mission ended in a bloodshed, they always seemed to when Akutagawa was involved. His sharp tongue and usually disagreeable personality always makes your efforts in negotiations worthless. You could never understand why Mori insists that the two of you work together. It’s like Akutagawa cancels you out and vice versa.

Nevertheless, you both got the job done. Whether it was done peacefully or forcefully, it was still successful. Unfortunately for you, unlike Akutagawa, you weren’t gifted with a long range combative ability. Yours involves touching your targets, so things always get a little…messy for you. 

The two of you are wrapping things up when the heavy rainfall starts. The sound of the consistent and heavy pitter-patter from the rain hitting against the roof of the - now abandoned - warehouse is soothing. The tension in your body from your previous fight melts away with the melody each droplet creates. The sound almost puts you in a trance and suddenly you’re struck with the strongest urge to wash off the blood that soaks most of your clothing, the smell finally hitting you and making you want to crawl out of your skin.

Before you know what you’re doing, you’re moving towards the entrance of the warehouse and Akutagawa is calling after you. “Where the hell are you going? Were you not listening to me? The car will be here in 20 minutes.”

You weren’t listening, hadn’t even realized he’d been talking over all the noise. 

“I’m gonna clean up! Can’t go staining some poor unassuming mailman’s car, now can I? That would be rude, my dear Ryunosuke.” You look over your shoulder at him with a smile and eyes filled with mirth.

His own eyes narrow at you and he clicks his tongue in annoyance, which is nothing new for him, especially when your favorite pastime is pushing his buttons. You watch with sheer amusement when his brow pinches together and an expression of realization flashes across his face. You ready yourself for useless scolding on his part. 

When will he learn? You never listen to him. 

“So soaking the car in water is a better alternative? You’re going to catch a cold if you stand in the rain at this temperature, you imbecile.” Despite his words he follows you out of the building, covering himself with Rashomon so he doesn’t get soaked too.

You don’t respond to him right away, instead you take in a deep inhale and close your eyes to tilt your head up. You let out a long sigh of relief as you feel the heavy and hot blood wash away. It’s not the same as standing under a showerhead like you usually do, undressing in the shower so you can easily wash out the blood from everything all at once. 

No, the rain washing it all away somehow feels purifying. A funny thought considering you’re the farthest thing from the word — perfectly impure. There’s nothing wrong with it, you much prefer it that way. 

Trying to be perfect is overrated anyways.

You don’t know how long you stand there for, head tilted to the heavens in complete serenity. But you’re brought out of your daze when you suddenly stop feeling the rain rolling onto your skin. Your brow pinches together in confusion and you straighten your head to open your eyes only to find an extension of Rashomon now covering you too. You look at Akutagawa with a frown and he clicks his tongue again.

“You’re washed off, there’s no use in you standing in the rain any longer. Unless you planned on getting ill so you could leave me to do all your work for you.” He crosses his arms over his chest and looks to the side, ignoring the way your face lights up in amusement.

You coo at him. “Awe, Ryukun…Are you worried about me? You do care! This needs to be shared. I must tell Gin all about this-”

As you go to pull out your phone, Akutagawa uses his ability to snatch the device and easily crushes it. All you can do is look at him and let out a pathetic whine of complaint. Your lips are parted in utter disbelief as you gape at him.

You let out another noise in complaint and sigh. “What in the hell, Akutagawa? That was like the third phone this month, are you joking? You’re getting me a new one the second we get back.”

He still refuses to look at you but promptly lets out a scoff at your declaration and you can practically hear him roll his eyes. 

“Whatever…”

Your eye twitches at his response but, luckily for him, your ride arrives and narrowly saves his ass from your impending wrath.

Dazai (1268 WC):

You come to the conclusion that the universe is entirely against you on this shitty Monday morning. Nothing has gone right since you woke up. Your alarm never went off because your charger wasn’t plugged in properly, so you woke up late. Then when you finally got your phone on you’re met with 10 missed calls and 3 texts from Kunikida, a text from Ranpo, and 4 texts from Dazai.

You promptly ignore the texts from the other two and call Kunikida back. The blonde informs you of Ranpo’s deduction behind your tardiness and you confirm. Luckily, the agency’s second in command is far more understanding with you than he is when a certain brunette is running late or calls in. 

That’s the only good thing you had going for you this morning.

After you get off the phone you try to take a quick hot shower but the plumbing has other plans for you. For some reason the water in the dorms’ building would not get past mildly warm. You were stuck taking a less than relaxing/calming shower. It was at that point you thought you had given up all hope for a decent day.

You’d be proven wrong and shown by the universe that you were sorely mistaken. 

You quickly get dressed and finally decide to check your messages as you stuff your feet in your shoes, a piece of toast hanging from your mouth as you have one arm shoved through your coat sleeve. You imagine that you look like a complete fool but thankfully you couldn’t care less. You balance everything as you unlock your phone, ignoring Dazai’s messages and opening Ranpo’s first. 

From Master Detective🕵🏻: Heyyyy u should wake up. Ur already l8. I let Kunikida know ur alarm didn’t go off this morning. Seemed to settle him down. YW. Call him when u wake up!

You type out a quick thanks to Ranpo and stare at your phone wearily as you work yourself up to open and read Dazai’s most likely over the top messages. On most days you’d find yourself smiling like a clown at the fact you had a message from him but today you do not have the patience. 

A pang of guilt shoots through you at your previous thoughts and promptly look for his contact, rolling your eyes with a fond smile as you see the heart next to his name that you don’t remember putting there.

Dazai-kun ❤️‍🩹 (Received at 08:17): bellaaaa why aren’t you here yet? :( 

Dazai-kun ❤️‍🩹 (Received at 08:23): kunikida-kun is now blaming me for your absence ꒰(˶◞ ‸ ◟˶)꒱ 

Dazai-kun ❤️‍🩹 (Received at 08:29): my bella hates me! you want me dead!! youre not here :( youre not letting me know where you are :( youre not even opening my messages :((

You have to stop reading for your sanity. The way he refers to you as his bella makes your stomach twist in knots and your heart flutter in your chest. It’s nauseating and far too early for this. 

You should have kept reading Dazai’s messages. If you had, you would have known that he warned you about the incoming storm set to hit at any moment. If you had, you would’ve brought the umbrella you always forget at home. But because the damn bastard made you so flustered with his previous message you didn’t. This is somehow his fault, you decide. He did it on purpose.

The universe truly hates you today.

About a fourth of the way there is when it starts. You aren’t even given a light warning of sprinkling, the downpour starts and it just continues to get heavier the further you get. You consider just walking back to your apartment and calling it a day before it had even really started but then you know Kunikida would have a fit. So you resort to running.

You’re not a runner, you never have been. You’re uncoordinated and have bad knees. An awful combination in running. 

At about the halfway point you notice a figure in the distance walking towards you. You can’t quite make the person out but you do have the rational thought of ‘who the hell is crazy enough to be out here in the pouring rain right now?’ As if you aren’t currently in the same position -- maybe even in a worse position because at least this person had enough sense to bring an umbrella.

As you grow closer to crossing paths with the person you notice he’s wearing a familiar light tan trench coat and you almost collapse from relief. You don’t think you’ve ever been so happy to see that stupid trench coat. You pick up your speed and within 30 seconds you’re crashing into your savior and he loops an arm around you as he steadies the both of you.

“Shame on you, Belladonna. You didn’t read all of my messages. Leaving me on read like that and making me worry.” Dazai looks down at you with a smirk and you already regret running to him. “But! I couldn’t just wait around. Oh no! I had to save my damsel in distress!”

You let out a snort as you roll your eyes. “That’s a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?”

You certainly don’t like the smug smile that curls at his lips. “I’ve noticed that you always forget your umbrella. So, when you didn’t respond to my messages, I just knew you would forget your umbrella again and guess what? I was right.”

You look up at him, completely unamused. You were grateful and you would have expressed said gratitude if it weren’t for that stupid smug grin that you would love to smack right off of his face. So instead you kiss your teeth and look away.

“So, what? You want a reward or something?”

That was clearly a mistake, because he lights up at your words and seems to seriously ponder what he could ask of you. Hopefully whatever it is, it’s realistic. Although knowing him, it won’t be.

“A kiss?” His voice has gone soft and his expression is hopeful.

Your stomach and chest both do that thing they did earlier and how the hell are you supposed to say no to that when he’s looking at you with those wide brown puppy eyes. You chew on the inside of your cheek nervously. In your mind, the decision had already been made far before he even asked you for the kiss. You bring a cold hand up to his surprisingly warm cheek and watch as his eyelids and long lashes flutter at your slight touch. You guide his face down to yours as you lean up to meet him halfway for the second time today. 

You watch as his eyes slide shut in anticipation, you pause for a few seconds, lips just a breath apart as you soak in this moment and try your best to commit it to memory. Finally you let your own eyes slide shut and gently press your lips to his. It’s gentle, his movements are soft, as if he’s scared to hurt you by accident. His lips are slightly chapped from the way he gnaws on them but it’s surprisingly nice. You both get so lost in each other that he loses his grip on the umbrella.

You make a noise of surprise and your eyes fly open when droplets start to hit your already soaked hair, you separate from Dazai and he lets out a noise of complaint, keeping you encased in his arms. “Dazai- The- The umbrella, Dazai!”

Chuuya (1.3k WC):

“Forecast didn’t say anything about rain today…”

You blink a few times, trying to comprehend the scene before you. You just got out of the most horrendous shift of your life. It has been a bad day for you all around and to top it off you didn’t even have a chance to check in with the one person that would make you feel better all day. But none of that even matters because here he is, standing before you under the overhang for drop off and pick up in front of the clinic you work at. 

You blink again before finally processing his presence. “...Chuuya? What are you doing here?” 

You aren’t ungrateful. You aren’t. In fact, you’re elated to see him here after the day you have, his presence alone brings you comfort. It’s just this one little detail that nags you in the back of your mind. You don’t think you’ve ever told Chuuya the exact clinic you work at, so how did he know he could find you here? 

As if sensing your hesitation, the ginger explains himself by holding up his phone and shaking it gently. “You have your location on…I wanted to walk you home since it seemed like you were having a rough day.”

You look away sheepishly, forgetting you set your location services on after losing your last phone. You look to the side where the downpour of rain ricochets off the large puddle and bounces back onto the ground, never truly settling. Chuuya was right, nothing was said about the possibility of rain, but here the two of you were ready to walk back when clearly mother nature had something to say about that. 

The joke’s on mother nature, though, because you’ve always loved the rain. You grab Chuuya’s hand and tug him towards the direction of your apartment which, luckily, isn’t too far of a walk from your workplace. It takes you 15 minutes maximum to get home on foot. 

“Any chance you brought an umbrella with you?” You stop right at the edge, reaching into the rain and watch as it instantly soaks your hand.

You look over to the ginger in confusion when he doesn’t respond right away. The look on his face is conflicted and you have to wonder what’s going on through his mind to have him make that face. Your patient and wait for him to come back to you. You’re always patient with him, you learned early on that he needs it and you think he’s worth it. 

Chuuya focuses back in, his gaze now clear and on you — the look on his face tells you that he’s made a decision. “I didn’t bring an umbrella, but…there’s something else…”

“What is it?” You tilt your head at him curiously and Chuuya’s grip on your hand tightens for a moment. 

“I’d have to show you. Do you trust me?” A hesitant look flashes across his face and you wordlessly reassure him with a single nod. “Okay. Okay. It might feel odd at first, some people have even told me it’s made them a little nauseous the first few times.”

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, clearly not following what he means. “I don’t- I’m not following…What are you talking about?”

Your face is painted with a perplexed expression and Chuuya realizes he’s not making any sense. His nerves don’t usually take over like this, but when it comes to you they always seem to get the better of him. You watch as he almost deflates, looking at you like a lost little puppy. The ginger lets out a sigh and his grip on your hand tightens once again. 

“You trust me?” He asks again, this time with more conviction.

You nod your head at him. “Of course I do.”

Chuuya smiles at you and then a strange aura washes over the both of you. A subtle red glow blankets itself over you, it’s warmth relaxing your muscles. There’s a certain weight in the air that there wasn’t before. Chuuya examines you carefully, searching for signs of any discomfort. However, there aren’t any for him to find because you’re completely at peace with this feeling. It’s the first time Chuuya has ever witnessed anyone so at ease while his ability is activated. It takes you less than a minute to realize what’s going on — your lips part in shock at the realization. 

“You’re…You have an ability too?” You’ve only ever met one other ability user, that you’re aware of at least and that was years ago.

Chuuya’s brows furrow at your words and then they shoot when he puts it together. “Too? So, you have a gift? This will be easier for me to explain then. My ability is gravity manipulation. At this very moment I’m using my manipulation to keep the rain from touching us.”

As if to demonstrate, the ginger pulls you out from under the awning and into the rain. You gasp and tense in anticipation of the rain completely soaking you to the bone. When it doesn’t you look to Chuuya and watch as the raindrops bounce right off him only millimeters above his skin. Then you look at your own limbs and it’s the very same effect — raindrops bouncing right off as if you’re repelling them and you suppose you technically are. You stare in wonder at the red glow still emanating from your bodies and you smile softly.

You both start walking hand in hand in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Chuuya clears his throat. “So…You have an ability too? Can I ask what it is?”

His voice comes out almost robotic and you look over to him in concern. His whole body is stiff and he’s looking everywhere but at you. You purse your lips at him, confused by his abnormal behavior. 

An idea comes to mind and you smile at him mischievously. He doesn’t notice of course so you easily turn around and grab hold of his other hand. You tug Chuuya towards you and guide him into a dance. You spin around and take a few steps, guiding him into a coordinated dance.

You clearly take him by surprise, so much so that he releases his ability and suddenly you’re both being drenched by the downpour mid dance. You let out a surprised squeal and pause, then look up to the sky with your eyes closed and smile wide as you laugh in pure glee. You straighten your head forward and open your eyes to look back at Chuuya with a wide smile still plastered on your face. The ginger looks completely starstruck, his eyes gazing at you with an adoring glint in them. It makes you blush, his brazen attitude and intensity never fails to create butterflies in your stomach. 

“Hey, you wanna be my girl?” Chuuya pulls you in, rain still soaking the two of you but neither one of you could care less. 

His words register slowly but when they do, you’re speaking before your brain can register that your mouth is moving. “Do you mean-? Yes. Absolutely, I would like nothing more than to be yours.”

Chuuya is pulling you in and crashes his wet lips to yours. The kiss is deep, his lips melding with yours perfectly, just like they always do. His touch is gentler than usual but you can feel him restraining himself. When you pull away you’re both slightly breathless. His forehead rests on yours and your breath mixes together. You start to flush when you realize that the two of you just kissed so intimately out in the open. 

Chuuya senses your embarrassment and chuckles, a smirk settling on his handsome features. “Why don’t we hurry to your apartment, then we can take a nice hot bath together. How’s that sound?”

You smile softly and nod, it’s like he could read your mind. “Sounds like heaven.”

[madamtrashbat]

Placing this under a read-more so it doesn't clog things up

There's a fascinating undercurrent with Islam in its assertion that it is The One True Religion, which means that it has a conquest mechanism built into it pretty much by design.

I've spoken with a Muslim friend (and just, like, generally observed interactions with Muslims) and the thing that I found weird is that Islam asserts that everything has always been Islam, and it wasn't until the prophet Mohammad told everyone this did everyone start understanding it (seriously, go look up any comment section on videos about pre-Islamic religions, especially native religions in Arabia, it gets very intense). Because of this, they believe that all souls are inherently Islamic and are led into other religions against their will, and it is thus their duty to convert all the lost souls into Islam because it's where they're meant to be.

The conquests and the forced conversions and dhimmitude of non-Muslims aren't the result of particularly ruthless caliphates going too far; they are literally baked into the text. It is a sacred duty to them. I've even caught my Libyan friend a time or two trying to lead me towards conversion, which I shut down immediately because, bro, be for real.

Christianity has a proselytizing message built into it as well, with the message of submitting to Christ and therefore being saved from damnation (I didn't even go to church and I'll be able to recite John 3:16 until the day I die), but there's still an element of choice there, and a recognition that it is built on something else, a recognition that it is the next step that was originally promised to the people by God, and the people who are rejecting it are no longer the True Believers, but they can just be wrong and also damned, if they want. Christianity cannibalized Judaism, but it still sees that Judaism exists. Christian texts do not assert that Moses was a Christian, or even really assert that Jesus was a Christian (lots of modern Christians do but the Bible is generally pretty clear on calling him a Jew).

Islam, however, claims all of these figures as Muslims. Because they view Islam as the only religion, all these figures are Muslim, part of the Abrahamic faith, and therefore a rejection of this idea (complete rejection of him as a Messiah, or viewing him as the savior and not just a prophet of God's word) is total blasphemy. The existence of Christianity and, even worse, of Judaism, is an affront to the main ideas of Islam. And it is not an accident that the people of these religions are heavily discriminated against in Muslim-majority countries.

And I think there needs to be a reckoning with that idea that needs to addressed if we are to move forward with the way we discuss things like Middle Eastern conflicts, the friction between Judaism and Islam and Christianity, and the way these three religions behave. There truly needs to be a confrontation with the idea that Judaism has had its entire belief system cannibalized, and then Jews have been punished over and over and over for daring to still claim their history as their own, and we treat them like shit for refusing to be crushed underfoot. The sooner we do that, the better.

shmads.y

This is your daily reminder to learn your Jewish history with pride. We renounce Jewish hate in all its twisted forms.

[rikupid]

[3:00] 💭 your teeth in my neck . . . wc: 1.7k

warnings: haechan x afab!reader, nsfw (MDNI), dom!haechan who is still kinda whiny, pinv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up plz), breeding, degradation, light humiliation, use of pet names (baby, angel, whore), dacryphilia, overstimulation, hyuck is just stressed!!

author’s note: winnie writing dom haechan… WHAT HAPPENED TO ME… looks around nervously bc Who am i!!!!! anyways i hope u all enjoy 😖😖

haechan didn’t mean to snap.

he didn’t mean to grab you by the waist and push you up against the wall with so much force that you thought you had done something wrong, staring at him with a confused expression.

you know he’s not usually like this, his behavior catching you completely off guard, and his only excuse is that he’s just stressed. he hasn’t gotten a break, jumping from schedule to schedule, being told to do this and do that, pushing him over his limit. haechan’s stressed, but he really didn’t mean to snap.

his hands are rough, roaming all over your body and groping whatever he can reach. haechan’s normally sweet, treating your body with so much care that it makes you want to cry, but suddenly, like a flip had been switched, his hands begin to trail lower and lower, squeezing your ass and tugging your hips forward.

you gasp as you feel his bulge pressing against your core, mind trying to process what exactly’s going on because haechan’s never acted like this before, never taken what he wants without desperate little pleas, begging for you to make him feel good.

“hyuck,” you whine, wrapping your arms around his neck and grinding against his bulge, despite your earlier confusion. “what’s—mm, what’s wrong, baby?”

haechan just groans, burying his face into your neck and pulling you impossibly closer, itching for your body against his. he mouthes messily at your neck, biting and licking your skin until it’s wet, flushed red and properly claimed.

“hyuck—“ you try again, but it’s obvious that haechan doesn’t wanna talk, too wound up to even think about voicing his stress properly if the rough sink of his teeth is anything to go by.

he pulls away from your neck, sliding his hands up towards your waist and underneath your shirt, mapping the smooth feel of your skin. “mine,” haechan mumbles, leaning in to nip at your bottom lip. it’s the first word he’s said all night, and something about it makes you throb with desperation, this new side of your boyfriend weird, but not unwelcome.

you nod your head, leaning forward to connect your lips fully and tangling your fingers in his hair. haechan moans into your mouth, slipping his tongue inside and gripping your waist with so much force that you’re sure it’ll bruise.

everything’s so hot, making your head spin as your boyfriend practically eats you alive, almost as if he was trying to prove that you were his, leaving no room for argument.

haechan’s the first to pull away, leaving the both of you gasping for air, lips slick with spit and swollen a pretty red. his gaze is heavy as he locks eyes with you, swimming with a mix of emotions that you can’t quite read. without a word, he slips a hand down into the front of your pants, past the waistband of your sweats and underneath your panties, fingers immediately sliding between your folds and spreading them, marveling at just how wet you are.

“barely even touched you,” haechan mumbles, staring at where his hand is deep inside your pants, rubbing small circles on your clit with his middle finger. “so fucking wet,” he adds, biting his lip.

“yeah—yeah,” you breathe, head falling back against the wall with a loud thump. you roll your hips into his hand, chasing more of the pleasure that comes from him touching you.

“stop moving,” haechan hisses, using his other hand to hold your hips down, forcing them to stay still. his words are harsh, void of any emotion as he growls, “you’re gonna take what i fucking give you.”

you can’t help the whine that slips from your throat, nodding and not daring to try moving again. your pussy throbs at the rough treatment, turning you on even more.

haechan says nothing else, pulling his hand out of your pants and flipping you around, crowding you up against the wall. you moan, an unexpected noise at the sudden switch in position, and his bulge strains against the curve of your ass.

his movements are rushed, little to no care behind them as he tugs your sweats and panties down, leaving them pooling around your knees. you shiver at the sudden exposure, closing your eyes and pushing your ass back against him, desperate for whatever he’s about to do to you.

“hyuck,” you moan, pressing your forehead up against the wall. you hear the faint sound of his zipper, biting your lip in anticipation.

haechan ignores you, pulling his leaking cock out of his pants, barely even bothering to pull them down, before grabbing the base and guiding it towards your slit. he teases, dragging the tip between your folds and wetting it with your own arousal.

“could jus’ slip it in if i wanted,” he whispers, talking to nobody but himself and pressing the tip inside as if he were really going to. “gonna fuck this pretty pussy, make it all mine,” he breathes out, hands pressing into your back, forcing it down into a pretty arch.

“please, hyuck,” you whine, walls fluttering around the tip of his cock that’s just barely pressing inside you.

haechan scoffs, a lazy grin on his face as he takes in the sight of you, pressing your ass back into his cock as if you were some kind of cheap whore. “begging and i haven’t even done shit,” he sneers, holding your hips in place to keep you from moving.

he pulls the tip of his cock out before spitting into his hand, slicking up his length and groaning at the stimulation. before he can lose himself in the pleasure, he places both of his hands on your ass, spreading your cheeks to slide his cock inside your pussy, bottoming out in one slow and deep thrust.

a long moan is ripped from your throat, the girth of his cock stretching you out so good, any thoughts you had disappearing and melting from your brain. “hyuck—oh,” you cry, squeezing your eyes shut.

“tight—so fucking tight,” haechan gasps, hunching over your back and digging his face into the back of your shoulder. he pulls out, just barely leaving the tip inside, before slamming his hips against yours, bullying his cock back into your pussy. like this, he builds up a rhythm, fucking you without mercy, his thrusts too fast for you to stay coherent, moans choked and words stuck in your throat.

he’s so deep it feels like you can’t breathe, your hands scrambling for something to hold onto, fingers digging uselessly into the wall. your body rocks with slam of haechan’s hips, legs going weak as you try to keep up.

“take it so good, baby—fuck,” haechan whines, voice shaky and out of breath, but his hips keep the same relentless pace, never letting up. “made to take my cock,” he babbles, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer, “gonna make me fucking c-cum.”

“please,” you moan, feeling your orgasm build up. your pussy throbs, heat boiling in your stomach and threatening to explode so hard you’ll break.

“yeah? maybe s’all you’re good for,” he says, slowing his hips and rolling them in deep, pointed thrusts. “just a whore that’s only good for cock,” haechan mumbles in your ear, bringing a hand down to rub at your clit. a choked moan leaves your lips, spit beginning to pool inside your mouth.

“so dirty baby, so fucking dirty, getting off on me fucking you like this,” he continues, words punctuated with each thrust.

“hyuck—hyuck,” you gasp, barely managing to get the words out. he picks up the pace again, leaving you breathless, and finally, the tension in your belly snaps, orgasm washing over you in strong, powerful waves. your legs give out, body supported only by haechan’s grip, and fuck, he’s still going.

“that’s it, baby,” haechan groans, hips stuttering from the way your pussy clenches around him, practically sucking his cock back inside.

“too much, s’too much,” you whine, loud and pathetic, tears welling up in your eyes. your hand flies down to grab his wrist, trying to stop him from rubbing at your oversensitive and throbbing clit.

“shut up,” haechan spits, grabbing both of your hands and pinning them behind your back. “k-know you can take it, angel, c’mon,” he pants, thrusts turning sloppy as he feels his orgasm getting closer and closer.

“hyuck,” you sob, too stupid to think of anything else, haechan’s cock having properly fucked you silly, leaving you with nothing but the thoughts of hyuck, hyuck, hyuck.

finally, after what feels like years, haechan pushes in with one last final thrust of his hips, groaning as he spills inside your pussy. “fuck,” he whines, biting his lip as he cums, the tension in his shoulders disappearing with every last drop.

you’re both panting, completely spent, and for a moment, it’s silent. haechan nuzzles into the back of your neck, rubbing his sweaty bangs against your skin, and it should be disgusting, but you’re too tired to actually scold him.

he pulls his cock out, backing away to watch as your hole flutters, a small trickle of cum beginning to pool and spill out. “mine,” he whispers, hands caressing your skin like an apology, trying to make up for the rough treatment.

you nod, finally coming back to your senses. “yours,” you agree, sniffly and quiet. haechan gently guides you back into a standing position, crowding you against the wall and nuzzling back into your neck.

“love you,” he mumbles, voice quiet and obviously drained, his body slouching against you. he tightens his arms around your waist, sighing.

“love you too, hyuckie,” you hum. “what was wrong?”

“just—you know,” haechan whines, not wanting to elaborate.

and yeah, you know. with you, words aren’t necessary for you to know what your boyfriend needs.

a/n: ummmmm… Not sure. the haechan voices got to me and that video of him moaning during the asmr with jisung did Not help!! lmk what u guys thought about this :>

tags: @haetrack @injunnie-lemon

[weirdsht]

How are you, beautiful?. How about your life?. If it doesn't bother you, can I make a request Cale Henituse x isekai reader?.. Where does the reader not want to interfere with the story even though the reader loves this story but the reader is more important and chooses a peaceful life.. However, the reader often ran into Cale and his group made the reader always run away (just helping silently) because the reader didn't sign for it...Cale started to suspect because they met often.Reader often rejected Cale's offers 😂😂..Comedy and chaos

Leave Me Alone! - LoTCF & Reader

tags: gender-neutral reader, transmigrated reader, cursing at the end

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are open and welcome

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Navigation Masterlist

“Ugh… what time is it..? Wait am I late for my classes!?”

You jolted up and rushed to feel for your phone, only to not get a hold of it making your heart drop.

Frantic, you rummage through the bedsheets, hoping you will soon find your beloved device. However, instead of your phone, you instead notice how you don’t seem to be in your room.

As you finally look around your surroundings you can see that you’re in a completely different place. Everything around you looked extra luxurious, you were almost blinded by how shiny everything was. Aside from that, unknown tools are also neatly scattered around the room. You don’t recognise them, but they look like magical tools that one would see in a fantasy anime or manhwa.

Creek.

“Oh my! The young master is awake! I shall fetch the healer!”

Before you could think about where you were and what happened to you, a woman wearing a traditional maid uniform opened the door. She seems to be in shock to see you awake. And so, she disappeared as fast as she came.

Not even a minute later, she came back to the room you were residing in. On her tow seems to be a healer. Once they settled in, the healer immediately got to work to check your body. As they do you wonder how you would be able to play this off. It doesn’t look like you’re in your world anymore, nor does it look like you have a way to go back.

“Miss, who are you? Where am I?”

The amnesia route it is.

“Who am I?”

The maid looks like she’s about to cry and have a heart attack at the same time. You feel bad, you really do, but it’s not like you can pretend to know information when you don’t even know where you got transmigrated. 

“Everything else is okay now except for their memory. The cause is most likely from the impact they sustained during the accident. We don’t know when those old memories will resurface. In fact, we can’t be sure if they ever will. My only advice is to not force them to remember anything as it could do more harm than good.”

With that, the healer excused himself to go to his next appointment leaving you with the maid.

Looking at the maid made you wonder if you’re in a historical manhwa and that you’re a child of a wealthy noble. Maybe you’re in one of those cliche tropes where you transmigrated as the villain and need to try to take down all the death flags waving.

“What are we going to do now young master? First, you lost your parents and now you lost your memories…”

The maid sobbed for a few more minutes before gathering herself and finally explaining your predicament.

Apparently, the only part you got right was the wealthy part. Your name is still [Name] [Lastname] surprisingly enough and you’re a magician’s child. Unlike other magicians who are neck-deep into their research, your parents focused more on commerce. The result of their efforts is the wealth your family has now, the [Lastname] family are as wealthy as nobles because of various magical tools they invent and sell.

“Of course, we are not as wealthy as the Henituse family or any of the duchies in the kingdom.”

Well, that’s a given since the Henituse is on a different level.

…wait Henituse? Like Cale Henituse? From the holy trinity of web novels? Lout of the Count’s Family?

And so that was how you confirmed that you have been transmigrated in your beloved manhwa/web novel as a no-name extra that isn’t even mentioned once.

The life of a wealthy, orphaned amnesiac seems to be good to you. You have everything at your disposal as there are servants at your every beck and call. Income is also a no-brainer as your body seems to remember mana and how it works. Creating and modifying magical tools and potions come to you easily.

In the midst of everything you still manage to find time to support your favourite characters from behind the scenes. You don’t have any plans on stepping into the limelight but you also can’t help but meddle a little since you hold those characters belovedly in your heart.

‘If Cale Henituse can’t stay still and live as a wealthy slacker then I shall do it for him!’

That was supposed to be the plan.

“Good day I am Ron and I am a servant of young master Cale Henituse.”

So why is this goddamn assassin interrupting your tea time at your favourite cafe!?

“Ah, the new hero of the kingdom. What could such a person need with a humble person like myself?”

You blatantly put your guard up, showing the cunning man you won’t give in to his whims.

“A prodigy such as yourself can hardly be called humble. But on that note, our young master would like to avail your services.”

…what now?

“I’m sorry Mister Ron but I do not do commissions. I work to provide for the masses, free from the constraint of an employer even if it’s a temporary one.”

You composed yourself and pushed down the urge to throw a fit right then and there. But Ron didn’t seem to notice your efforts as he slid a bag of gold coins across the table. He probably thinks you’d do the job at the right price.

“Money won't change anything. I have enough to sustain me for a lifetime. Now please excuse me as I only wish to lounge around.”

With that, you stood up and left the cafe.

The days following that weren’t easy. Everywhere you go, you seem to bump into one of Cale’s people. It has gotten to a point where you have to pause your meddling endeavours because they almost caught you a couple of times.

But since when has fate been on anyone’s side in LoTCF?

“I’m Choi Han from the Henituse family I am here on behalf of Cale-nim.”

“I’m Hans visiting on behalf of young master Cale.”

“I am the priestess Cage, I am visiting with Marquis Taylor Stan to conduct business.”

“Can you help this poor soul named Bob?”

“Hello, I’m Cale Henituse. I’m sure you’ve met the people I sent to your house.”

Cale Henituse is more persistent than you thought. He wouldn’t stop no matter how much you try to refuse his antics. It even came to a point where he had to visit you himself.

But still, even if you love his character deeply… there’s no way you would let yourself be caught up in his whims.

It’ll be the end of your peaceful life once that happens.

“Young master [Name] the prince, his Highness Alberu Crossman has ordered your presence in his castle.”

“That fu–”

“Did you say something, young master?”

“Ah no… you must’ve heard wrong.”

You plastered a smile on your face as the maid handed you the summon letter. The maid excused herself after handing you the letter to give you privacy. 

Just before you could open the letter you could hear some rustling from the window. You cautiously approached it as the noise seemed to be deliberate. Once you got on the windowsill you noticed a piece of folded paper neatly tucked in.

Goodluck 

“That fucking piece of shit! Favourite character my ass!”

[cuntressgoingdigital]

i am here with some abby x depressed! reader content

once again, entirely self indulgent. i am in the biggest rut rn, but this was kinda cathartic. i cried while writing it actually.

free palestine! click this link for more info + dono links

abby’s a lot softer and empathetic than people give her credit for, especially with you. she can always tell when you’re having a rough day. she knows to only ask what’s bothering you once, knowing that sometimes you didn’t have the words to explain yourself. sometimes you didn’t even know. she would always ask

“do you want company or alone time?” 

today was one of those days. you couldn’t get out of bed, cocooned in all the blankets on the bed. you knew isaac would have your head if you shirked your assignment for the day. not even that could inspire you to move from your spot on the stiff uncomfortable mattress. when abby came to check on you at sunrise and caught you still in bed, she immediately jumped into caretaker mode. 

she sat at the foot of your bed and rubbed the outline of your thigh through the layers of blankets. 

“you okay? feeling sick?”

you shook your head, feeling too embarrassed to make eye contact. you couldn’t fathom how abby got up every day to suffer through patrol, run isaac’s errands, and still have the energy to hangout with her friends at the end of the day. just getting out of bed every day was an arduous task for you. isaac preached about family values and insisted that everyone had an important role on base, no matter how big or small. it felt like you were failing everyone. 

even worse, you felt like a burden on abby. you never got on quite well with her friends, feeling extremely out of place every time you all got together. some days you could push through the feeling, but these past couple days it has been entirely out of the question. you felt awful tearing her away from them to tend to you on top of everything else she was tasked with. 

“what assignment did you get today? my to-do list is pretty light, so i can get it done if you need me to.” 

abby always insisted you were allowed to ask for her help, but it made the weight on your chest even heavier. 

“just inventory in the armory. it has to be done before lunch.” with a stifled sigh, you sat upright in your bed. “i can probably–”

“don’t worry about it. i’ve got it.”

finally, you gathered the courage to look her in the eyes. her eyes never held the look of pity others gave you. the sweet smile on her face made tears well in your eyes. before you could stop them a few tears fell. using the back of your sleeve you hurried to wipe your face. a few soft apologies fell from your lips before abby reached out and took your hand, giving it a squeeze. 

“i promise, it’s fine. i wouldn’t offer if i didn’t want to. let me do this for you.”

it felt like she could read your mind. she understood you even when you struggled to parse through your feelings and form a coherent sentence.

 you sniffled and nodded. “thank you. for everything.” 

she cradled you in her arms and let you sob for a few minutes in complete silence. her hand gently rubbed your back while the sobs racked through your body. when you finally calmed down she pressed a kiss on the top of your head. 

“i love you. more than anything in the world.” those whispered words almost inspired more tears.

“i love you, too. i love you more, actually.”

she snickered. “not possible.”

abby stood and stretched, the wet patch of tears along the neck and shoulder of her shirt clung to her skin. “i’ll bring you back something from the cafeteria. i think it’s oatmeal and granola day.”

she gave you one last kiss before turning on her heel and leaving your room.