#i know you love their weirdness about space

[hrrtshape]

ok so like. there is literally nothing noble about acting like people are pathetic for struggling with loa or shifting. nothing sexy or glamorous or spiritually superior about looking at someone who is scared, or tired, or full of doubt, and going “lol u just don’t want it enough.” that’s not tough love. that’s just being a dick.

people are human. people doubt. people have bad days. people break down. the world is exhausting and sometimes believing in yourself feels impossible. and there is nothing weak or shameful about that. what’s weak is pretending you’re above it.

like congratulations. you’ve successfully convinced yourself that empathy is cringe. do you want a medal. a statue. a little parade in your honour where everyone claps bc you were mean to a stranger on the internet for struggling with something that is seen as occultist or schizophrenic or weird????????

real power is knowing that you are limitless and still holding space for people who are learning that. real power is saying ��this shit is real, you can do it, and i’m not gonna act like you’re dirt for struggling.”

stop making basic human emotions a moral failing. you are not the main character for having a god complex and no compassion.

people are gonna struggle. some aren’t. good job for being a master manifestor . no hate or anything, genuinely. just. idk. be more……understanding, maybe?????? LIKE THIS SHIT CAN BE EXHAUSTING !!!

(And i see people reblogging without probably reading this !!! hi!!!! )

[tooturtly]

Just so ppl know it does get better! I didn’t really have friends from ages 13-18, and even before then I always felt a little different (gay and neurodivergent). And yeah, it sucked. I thought I was doing everything right. I talked to people in class, I did extracurriculars, I was involved. But nobody was texting me unless it was about something school related. I wasn’t invited to anybody’s house. Twice the people I ate lunch with made homecoming plans but never invited me, I just showed up bc of how much they talked about it.

It finally took seeing the group of people I thought were my friends really overtly reject an openly neurodivergent guy from the friend group. Why? Because he talked too much, he was too sincere. It wasn’t any fault of his own. When I hung out with him in a smaller group, I had a blast. And I realized it wasn’t his fault or mine, but the people who I didn’t even like that much who were pushing me away. They were doing the same thing to both of us, and I should be pissed about it! (I still am, even know people change, it was still a shitty thing to do)

My senior year I finally put myself first and realized that having bad friends was worse than being alone. And I might as well be alone on my terms. I went to homecoming and prom by myself, I wore my own weird clothes and danced by myself just to have fun. I realized that going with those people had made me have less fun, because they hardly wanted to dance to the music if they didn’t know the song. I decided I was going to have fun and be my own person.

The only people I had who were friends were the older people at the game shop I went to. They were kind and patient with me when I didn’t know all the rules, and I’ve since lost touch with them but everyday I’m thankful that I had them in my life. Thank you for taking care of this weird teenager who was too loud and too pushy, and who you guided anyway! Thank you for humoring me!

And then I did find lasting friends. I graduated high school and found a group of amazing, nerdy, goofy people who I clicked with. We play D&D together, we eat together often, we share our stories, we talk and we laugh, we have inside jokes.

As I’ve gotten older I know I still have those moments. Even with my closest friends, I have doubts and anxieties about if they actually like me, if I’m a good and kind enough person to be able to sustain a friendship. Sometimes I think maybe I’m better off alone, because then any hurt I cause will only be me. I’ve never had friends before, I don’t know anything! Sometimes I think I’m too full of hurt to do anything but hurt. But I don’t trust those thoughts! My brain lies to me all the time! Those terrible twisted feelings never come from me, they come from a me that doesn’t know anything but pain and sorrow. I’m an entirely different person when the depression hits, and I’ve learned enough not to trust how I feel in those moments.

I know that I’m trying and my friends know it too. I’m not purposefully mean, I make amends when I make mistakes, which is all you can do because everyone makes mistakes. And I think about how much sadder my life would be without my support network. I would be miserable! Yeah I can do it alone, but I don’t want to! Doing it alone sucks! I love my friends! I don’t want to let them go, and they want me around. If my friends didn’t want me around, they’d tell me to pack it. Yet I’ve continued making friends, I find fun and weird people everywhere!

Fuck it, I’m gonna be me as much as I can! Life is terrible when you’re pretending to be someone else. And I’ve been lucky enough to find space irl where I can be me. If you can’t do that in person, go online, find community anywhere you can get it. I know I learned a lot from lurking online in high school.

My friends love me even though I have flaws, and I love them even though they have flaws. Including the anxiety and self doubt! Loving with flaws is human. Confidence is your armor against that self doubt. Even if it’s fake! Say fuck it and love your life, love yourself! The world is beautiful! Life is beautiful in those small moments laughing, in talking, in smiling.

Yes this is optimistic positivity! Because pessimism made me sad and being sad does not make you want to live! And I want to live. I made the choice once to live as much as I can. God’s tried to kill me twice and he has failed so far, so I will dance through life laughing.

I can still be depressed and I can still laugh! I can be lonely sometimes and still have friends! I can know that there’s always light at the end of the tunnel if I smile and greet the darkness as my friend.

On Isolation

[dreamersparacosm]

jeon jungkook - bad intentions

warnings ; nsfw (18+!!!!!!), unprotected sex

prompt ; in which a TikTok edit sparks a desire to get absolutely destroyed by your boyfriend.

note ; hey… heyyyy *opens door* um idk what this is but I’m back with a new fandom and this random piece of writing. this is my formal request to join the bts fandom pls xoxo i promise im fun and can write hellish smut

It’s cruel that you live with someone as attractive as your boyfriend.

It’s even more evil that the world posts TikTok edits of your boyfriend to seductive songs that make your underwear soak through with arousal.

All that to say, you’re not really making your life any easier by watching every single one that stumbles across your For You Page.

You have been better. It was a slow Sunday: one where your boyfriend sits perched on your shared living room couch, mindlessly playing with his lip ring as he watches some Netflix show. It’s nice having him like this, all for you, in a space you two built for yourselves. But you, you’re in the bedroom, aimlessly scrolling through an app that has taken up more than enough of your time and perfectly curated content about your boyfriend and this silly little band he’s in.

But it’s when, and only when, you stumble across an edit of your boyfriend to a The Weeknd song, that you shoot up in your bed, blink rapidly, inhale a sharp breath. Your heart catches in your throat, does that stupid little flutter thing. And then.. the clench that follows down below. You replay it once, twice… a third time.

Don’t be weird. Do not be thirsty.

But, he is yours. That much, you do know.

You close the app, delete the page off your phone. It’s not like you two have a boring sex life, he takes care of you and you never feel dissatisfied. In fact it’s rather the opposite. This one time being two nights ago when he had your legs up on… never mind. You look at your black phone screen in disgust. Do not be a horny little freak.

Well, one last look at the edit won’t hurt.

You go back to the fan edit. Glance at it, slap your hand over your face, peek through your middle and ring finger. Fuck.

The arousal that had pooled before in your underwear was now a full-on ocean. Really, you should have more decorum than this. You don’t really want to bother Jungkook, he’s had a busy week with the boys… but it also has been two days since you two have had sex.

Fuck it.

You swing your legs off the bed, shuffle down the hallway of your apartment. You spot your boyfriend lounging on the couch, his back to you. Even from where you stand, you can see his build, his biceps.. Gosh. You sound like a hormonal teenage girl.

You creep up behind him, wrap your arms around his neck and press a few sloppy kisses down it. His hand flies up to caress your arm that’s hung around his neck, a little laugh leaving his mouth, “Well, hello to you too.”

You decide then and there in that moment: You’re going to die if you don’t have him. Maybe that’s a little dramatic, but you’ve lost all strength.

“Hi,” your voice is frail, weak even, as you kiss along his jaw. He sucks in a deep breaths, fingers drawing circles on your arm. His eyes are glued to the television screen like if he looks anywhere else, he might combust.

You detach your arms from around him, moving to the front, blocking his perfect view of the screen. He looks up at you with those doe eyes you love so damn much. One look at you and he gathers quickly there will be no more watching of television.

With little words, you straddle him, knees on either side of his thighs. Jungkook feels up your thighs, smirks a little, “What did I do to earn this right now?”

You are well aware of how needy and desperate you look right now, but that doesn’t matter. You let out a little sigh, pushing your lips onto his. For some reason, you feel like some little fangirl who is hooking up with her celebrity crush. The cold metal from his lip ring is a welcomed feeling, and you place your hands on his neck, feeling the structure and heat of his skin. God, you are going to cum just from this kiss if you keep it up.

Pulling away a little, you look into his eyes, “Nothing specifically… I just…”

You sigh, go back in to kissing him again. Those plump pink lips of his work against yours, shivers running down your spine as he runs his hands up and down your bare thighs. “Just what, baby?” He speaks in a low tone in between the incessant kissing.

“I’m so fucking horny,” You admit.

Upon the minute those words leave his mouth, you feel his cock begin to press against your inner thigh. You’ve got him right where you want him. And it’s not that this isn’t normal; it is. But you’ve essentially offered yourself up to him on a silver platter and the act of desperation you got going on right now is really doing it for him.

“Hmm?” He hums against your lips, his hands roaming underneath your shirt to trace your spine. And you could marry him right now for being so quick to go along with it. For not pushing you, for letting you set the pace.

You start to grind yourself down on him, the wetness soaking through your pajama shorts you have on. It is criminal how much you need this man inside of you, now. “What do you need from me, baby?” He starts to kiss down your neck as light whimpers exit your throat from the friction of your shorts on his grey sweatpants.

“N-nothing,” You exhale out. “Let me ride you.”

“Fuck.” He groans out.

“You need me that bad?” He brushes a strand of hair off your shoulder, kisses down your supple skin.

“Yes, please,” Your voice cracks. You can’t take it anymore; you think you might combust into a million little pieces.

“Well, go on, my love,” He removes his lips from your skin, smirks, sits back against the couch. “Have me.”

He does not need to tell you twice. There’s no time for pleasantries. You move your legs off his, lower down his sweatpants enough for you to be able to access his boxers. You kick off your shorts, leaving the underwear on; there’s not a single shred of a fuck left in you.

Jungkook is sat there, an amused look plastered on his face, mixed with a level of adoration you are not sure you have seen before. His arms have moved, now splayed out across the top of the couch, his biceps flexing. You straddle him again, remove his throbbing cock from the confines of his boxers. Fuck, if you weren’t so ready for him, you would’ve taken him into your mouth.. but alas, no time to waste.

You push your panties to the side, rub your juices over his length. He lets out a little moan at that, watches you eagerly get ready to take him whole.

With a gasp, you align him to your entrance in search of relief. You engulf him, take him in inch by inch until you bottom out. Honestly, you could unravel just from that. “Holy fuck, baby,” His head falls back, eyes still glued to the sight of you fully taking him to the brim.

You never really do get used to how big he is; when you two first started dating, he stretched you out so wide you were certain you would never recover. Your bottom lip is sucked in between your top teeth, rushed exhales leaving your body as you slowly begin to move, begin to gyrate your hips and lift yourself up and down on his pulsing cock. “Oh my god,” You breathe out, hands moving to his broad chest, gripping onto him to steady yourself

He’s not doing much, besides just watching you in complete and utter awe, and yet that still takes your breath away. “You look so unbelievably sexy right now,” He says, barely even realizing the words leave his mouth, since they were mostly meant for his inner thoughts. His hands come around to land on your hips, the pads of his fingers pressing into the bone. There will definitely be a bruise there tomorrow.

You lull your head back, close your eyes tight. It’s all you can do to try and keep yourself together. You’re an absolute mess right now; pussy squelching with each stroke, his cock a mix of yours and his arousal. The only sounds that can be heard in the apartment are the slapping of skin and the moans that continually leave both of your mouths. “[Y/N]…” He moans out. You look at him, deep in those eyes that you love so much.

And there’s such… desire on his face, his pupils blown wide, his jaw slack. He is so undeniably hungry for you, and it’s going to kill you. You speed up your bounces, losing a little more control with each and every passing moment. Your arms snake around his neck, pull him even closer to you. “Fuck, I am so close,” You whisper out, mostly to calm yourself down.

“Yeah?” Is the only word he can muster right now. “Need you to cum for me. Want to make sure you’re taken care of.”

It is all so filthy; the sounds, the look he’s giving you, the way your nails are digging into the flesh of his neck and leaving marks. Your half-lidded eyes meet his, gaze dropping down to his lips. You press a few sloppy kisses on them.

“You like this, hmm?” he asks, fingers digging even deeper into your hip bones that you’re certain he is leaving an imprint on your skull. “Having me like this ready for you? Does that get you off?”

His words elicit a clench around his cock, your walls tightening around him. He is absolutely correct. He knows he’s hit the mark. “Talk to me.” His tone is soft but threatening.

“Y-yes, it does. Oh my god, Kook..” You can barely think, any singular thought beside how incredible his cock feels inside you, how you can feel him penetrate your stomach with his entire length. “I’m gonna cum.”

It’s so close, it’s teetering on the edge. Every nerve ending in your body craves him to a point where you wonder if you need to be institutionalized. All you can see is that stupid edit made by that fan flash across your head, your brain unable to comprehend that that is the man you currently have inside of you. “Cum for me, darling..” He coos.

It nearly wrecks you, this orgasm. It washes over your entire being and you’re so loud you’re certain your neighbors will come knocking down your door. Your bounces go from focused to frantic, hips gyrating wildly, and he wraps an arm around your entire waist, picking you up lightly. He begins thrusting into you at a shallow, quick pace, chasing after his own release. Jungkook lets out a few grunts, eyes trained on the sight in front of him; and then he shudders, his cock throbs inside of you, head falling onto your shoulder as he feels himself empty out inside of you. You’re struggling to catch your breath, gripping onto the hair at the nape of his neck.

“My god..” You breathe out. You’re still sitting on him, cock warm inside you as he lifts his head from your shoulder, meets your fucked-out face.

“Baby, that was so incredibly hot, you have no idea,” His face is flushed, hand reaching up to caress your cheek. You entwine your arms and legs around him, holding him close, drawing him deeper into you. You stay there, hearts pounding in unison, as if they're each trying to break free from your chests, desperate to draw nearer. And still, even in this perfect closeness, you long to feel him even closer.

“Mhmm,” You hum out, quite content with yourself. You press a soft kiss to his lips.

“So… care to share what made you jump my bones?” He teases, pressing another kiss to your lips.

“Oh, nothing…” You act coy, but the heat creeps onto your face regardless. He pokes your side, eliciting a giggle from you that has you folding like origami.

“Maybe… just saw a little something on TikTok..” You trace circles on his collarbone, avoiding his gaze.

“Continue.” He presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Some girl made an edit of you..” It’s low when it leaves your mouth, he can barely hear it. “Just wanted to remind myself I can have you.. whenever I like.”

You bury your face into his neck in sheer embarrassment, feeling his warmth and the vibration as he chuckles. “You can have me whenever. I’m yours, baby.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

masterlist + request

[steddieas-shegoes]

slowly, then all at once

for @steddielovemonth inspired by the quote "as he read, i fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, then all at once." from the fault in our stars by john green

rated t | 731 words | cw: nightmares | tags: pre-relationship, feelings realization, literal sleeping together, cuddling

📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖

Steve’s nightmares aren’t a secret. The severity of them, along with the frequency, and how shitty he feels after, those are all secrets. Not even Robin quite knows how bad it gets sometimes.

The summer is worse: the memories of the Russians, the way the pool reflects off his window at night, the humidity clinging to his skin reminding him too much of the way dust and ash and mud clings in the Upside Down.

He feels stupid after spring break, that he should even still have traumatic memories when Eddie almost died. But he does. They’re worse now. He isn’t being tortured, Robin isn’t even in these ones. It’s always Eddie.

Eddie bleeding.

Eddie’s broken body.

Eddie not breathing.

Eddie dying.

It’s weird how quickly he took over Steve’s brain, how he went from being someone Steve barely knew from school to being one of his closest friends. Near-death experiences tended to do that, he supposes.

But it’s almost every night, and he rarely gets more than a couple hours of sleep before they hit, so he’s in a constant state of exhaustion these days. It’s not great for all the volunteering he does, and the usual taking the kids where they need to go, and trying to find a new job, and trying to convince Robin he’s fine. The bags under his eyes and the constant slump of his shoulders says everything.

She worries, but she knows he just has to get over the hump.

They all do.

Eddie stays with him late into the night a lot. It’s like he senses that being alone is the catalyst.

He finds excuses, tries to make it seem like he’s the one who doesn’t wanna be alone. Steve appreciates it, but he’s far past the point of feeling any shame for being afraid of being alone.

He doesn’t turn him away, though. Eddie sticks around for hours most nights, well past the point he should. Sometimes they watch movies, sometimes they just turn music on and sit quietly in the living room. Eddie is always moving a little, fingers tapping, leg jiggling, head bobbing. It’s good, though. It’s nice.

And sometimes he lays down in Steve’s bed with him until he falls asleep. He doesn’t touch him, or really do anything more than just exist in the space while Steve closes his eyes and drifts off. He’s always gone when Steve wakes up.

Tonight, he’s got a book open and Steve’s curled up under his blankets. His bones ache from how tired he is, and he wonders if his body will ever get to the point where exhaustion keeps the nightmares away. Steve’s eyes are closed, but he’s not asleep. Not yet.

Eddie’s voice is soft, accents coming through for some characters, colorful inflections describing the scenery. Steve smiles to himself as his eyes start to feel heavy.

It’s nice to be read to. He doesn’t know which book this is, but it sounds like a dream.

Maybe he’ll dream about this instead of bats circling a body he loves.

Oh.

His eyes open and he looks up at Eddie, who doesn’t stop reading, even when Steve knows he can feel his eyes on him. It’s a beautiful thing, to see Eddie so enraptured in a story that he’s probably read before, to see him still putting the effort into giving Steve a show even though Steve was mostly asleep.

He loves him.

Steve loves Eddie.

Not the way he loves Robin, or the kids. Maybe closer to how he loved Nancy, but even that didn’t feel quite like this.

This feels like a later sunset after a long winter, a fresh breath of air after being stuck in the Upside Down, a glass of cold water in the middle of summer.

It’s refreshing, and waves of calm take over his body.

He settles.

He reaches out, places his arm over Eddie’s stomach, curls his fingers into his shirt. He buries his face into Eddie’s side.

Eddie pauses for a moment, just long enough that Steve worries he shouldn’t have done this. But then one arm covers Steve’s body and he continues, voice softer but no less enthusiastic.

Steve closes his eyes and falls into a deep sleep.

When he wakes, it’s calm. There’s no crying or screaming, no thrashing, no fighting.

Eddie’s there, holding Steve against him.

He loves him.

[genderqueerdykes]

Kinda depressing irony that I have more than once discovered a part of my identity due to horrendous online discourse drawing attention to an option I'd never considered before. It's happened three times now, first with being asexual, then polyamorous, and now with being transmasc. On the one hand the thought process of "Why is everyone yelling at that group? Guess I'll go have a look and see what all the fuss is about. Oh. They're just like me, I didn't realise there were others. oh ... everybody hates us." Is really depressing, as is finding a community just in time to watch it get stamped into oblivion. On the other hand you gotta admit it's kinda funny that their attempts to destroy a group of people is literally creating more of us.

i agree with you 100%. this shit is just so exhausting. it keeps happening but with different area of the community every few years

i think a lot of this is people who just aren't familiar with these communities over reacting to them and thinking they're all just weird cishets at first and it's so terrible. all of those groups you mentioned are queer and normally accepted in general queer spaces. people genuinely do have thin to non existent skin these days and refuse to talk in anything but arguments and death threats. it's exhausting. it's not worth the time. it's honestly just worth it to live your life in person. know who you are. remember your identity. but don't interact with this nonsense. it's pointless. just go be yourself. it'll save your life. love you. take care

[cayleeuhithinknott]

matt’s so grateful you’ve agreed to his deal, because he loves to show his girl off—no matter how shy you may be.

pairing: sweetheart!matt & shy!reader

matt’s waiting for you by the bedroom door, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans, rocking back and forth on his heels. he’s already dressed—black jeans, a sweater that hugs his broad shoulders just right, hair all tousled like he just ran his fingers through it a few too many times. he looks effortlessly good, like he always does. like he didn’t even have to try.

you, on the other hand, feel like you’re about to throw up.

you stare at your reflection in the mirror, the dress you picked out earlier feeling like it’s suddenly working against you. when you bought it, you thought it was perfect—something a little different from what you usually wear, something pretty, something that made you feel…somewhat confident.

but now, standing in it, nerves curl tight in your stomach.

it’s too much. too fitted, too noticeable.

what if people stare? what if you look ridiculous? what if matt doesn’t like it?

your fingers twitch toward the hem, pulling at the fabric slightly. maybe you should just change. you could throw on a sweater and jeans and be comfortable, be invisible.

you take a step toward your closet, ready to pull the dress over your head and shove it into the back of the drawer where you won’t have to think about it again. but before you can grab anything else, there’s a soft knock at the door.

“baby?”

his voice is gentle, like it always is when he talks to you. patient. careful.

you squeeze your eyes shut for a second.

“we okay in there?”

you swallow, shifting on your feet. “yeah… just, um… i don’t—i don’t know if i should wear this.”

there’s a pause. you can hear him breathing on the other side of the door, like he’s thinking.

“can i see?”

you hesitate, staring at yourself again, debating if you should just lie and say you’re changing. but before you can decide, the door creaks open slightly, just enough for matt to peek in.

he sees you, and his brows lift slightly before his face softens like he can’t believe what he’s looking at.

“oh.” his voice is quiet, almost breathless. “oh, love, you look beautiful.”

you shift under his gaze, your fingers twisting together. “i don’t know…”

matt steps fully into the room, shutting the door behind him. he closes the space between you in an instant, tilting your chin up with the lightest touch so you’re looking at him.

“hey,” he murmurs. “why are you so unsure, sweetheart?”

you bite the inside of your cheek. “it just…feels like a lot. i don’t usually wear stuff like this. i feel weird.”

matt’s hands slip to your waist, fingers pressing lightly into the fabric, holding you there like he doesn’t want you to run.

“you feel weird?” he repeats, his lips quirking up a little. “why?”

“because…” you trail off, feeling ridiculous.

because people might stare. because you don’t know how to take compliments. because you’re scared you don’t look as good as you hoped.

but matt is looking at you like you hung the stars, and it makes all those worries jumble together and get stuck in your throat.

“what if i look stupid?” you blurt out instead, and your face burns immediately.

matt blinks once, then shakes his head, exhaling a soft laugh before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“maple,” he murmurs against your skin, his lips curving. “sweetheart. there is no universe where you could ever look stupid.”

you scrunch your nose at him, unconvinced. “you have to say that. you’re my boyfriend.”

“wrong,” he says easily. “i don’t have to say anything. but i am saying it, because it’s true.”

you peek up at him through your lashes, still a little uncertain, and he sighs playfully, shaking his head like he can’t believe he has to prove this to you.

he steps back slightly, just enough to take a slow, exaggerated look at you from head to toe. he tilts his head, squints, crosses his arms like he’s analyzing something very, very serious.

“hm,” he hums, tapping his chin. “yeah, no. you don’t look stupid. you look…” he trails off dramatically before breaking into a soft grin. “gorgeous. absolutely beautiful.”

you groan, hiding your face in your hands, and he just laughs, pulling you closer again.

“i’m serious,” he insists. “you don’t have to wear it if you really don’t want to. but if you’re just nervous, i promise you, there’s no reason to be. you look incredible. i mean it.”

his voice is steady, like he’s not just saying it to make you feel better, like he actually believes it.

“you really think so?” you whisper.

matt smiles, leaning down just enough to brush his nose against yours. “sweetheart, i know so.”

you don’t respond, still chewing on your lip, and matt sighs, his hands tightening slightly on your waist.

“okay, how about this,” he offers. “we take a test run. we plan to go to dinner and then on a walk downtown, yes?” he asks, and you nod. “you wear it for the first half of our date, and if at any point you feel uncomfortable, i’ll take you home and you can change into something comfy, and we’ll just have a movie night, no questions asked. deal?”

you hesitate, then nod slowly. “deal.”

“good,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “because i really, really want to show you off tonight.”

you flush, but his words settle something in you.

and as he takes your hand, leading you out the door, you decide—maybe just for tonight—you can believe him.

a/n: short and sweet 💖 i love this au sm. he’s so cute

tags: @sturniolo04 @admeliora94 @alexturnersgooch @strnilolover @snuffbut @frattboychris @marrykisskilled @mqttittude @purpledragon222 @aubsloveschris @slctsblogana @emely9274 @oliviasthatgirl @conspiracy-ash @matthewsroses

[babybearnation]

hopefully i worded this well 😖🤞

landoscar plan anonymous valentines gifts for reader thinking he would recognize their handwritings and overall the vibes of the gifts but reader always oblivious when someone likes him thinks the gifts are from someone else then lando and oscar desperately drop hints reader still adorably clueless

don't worry this is well worded! plus i really love this idea!

established!landoscar x gn!reader

lando and oscar are obsessed with you even more than they are obsessed with each other

they got together after silverstone 2023, and even though they're really happy together, they can't help but feel like a you-shaped void exists

you've worked at mclaren since 2020, so you're really close with lando, but when oscar arrived, you found yourself falling for him as well

but unfortunately for lando & oscar, you're really oblivious and didn't even know that they were a couple until they told you directly

you're happy for them, obviously, but you do feel a littte bit upset and/or jealous and you have to walk away and go calm down the second you can do so without it being weird

with valentine's day occurring during the middle of pre-season testing and preparations, lando and oscar set about making a plan on how to seduce you

lando buys you 10 gifts

oscar buys you 10 gifts

they buy you 5 gifts together

hell, oscar even convinces lando to work together on writing a love letter in case the gifts dont work (altho they are stupidly optimistic that they will)

they start planting the gifts around for you

you receive jewellery you've wanted for ages and stylish clothes that you mentioned ideally owning one day from lando

from oscar, you get hard to find sweets/snacks and things that pertain to whatever your hobby is

overall you're really starting to feel doted and loved upon

and you know the gifts are from two different people - the handwriting tells you as much - but you don't know who

even though the handwriting feels familiar, you don't investigate into it

you do excitedly tell lando and oscar all about it though which makes both of them suffer on the inside

when they realise you truly are that oblivious, they decide to start dropping hints

mentioning the next gift mere minutes before you'll find it

well, oscar is doing that. lando is telling you what the gift is as you find it

and yet, you still remain confused and oblivious as to who could be giving you all these gifts

lando snaps first, obviously, and marches over to you with the last present (a box of chocolates because valentine's day!!!) and the love letter he wrote with oscar

he hands them both to you with an insistent huff

"these are from me and oscar. just like everything else was."

he then storms off, leaving you alone with the final gift & the letter

you open the gift before reading the letter and you feel so guilty that you didn't recognise their handwriting and didn't notice all the signs they were trying to send

you read the letter two to three times before you start crying and you run from your work space to go and find them, tears streaming down your face

when you find them, you apologise for being oblivious and stupid and you confess your feelings and ask them to be your boyfriends

oscar doesn't give a fuck about the confession tbh, he just wants you to a) stop crying and b) never call yourself stupid ever again

lando meanwhile is not so patiently waiting for oscar to move the fuck out of the way so he can kiss you

yeah, you go home that day absolutely loved up and smothered in kisses from lando & oscar!

© all rights to babybearnation 2025.

[judamars]

Just came to a shocking revelation

If you take one good look at my profile, you don’t even have to scroll far to tell that I absolutely love Gihun. Most of the time though when I talk about it I mention how he’s made crazy stupid decisions in the second season and how I wish he just got on the plane to see his daughter. But, here’s the thing.

Coming from someone who also has divorced parents, and lives with my mom and a stepdad and doesn’t know really know where my bio dad is, if I were Gayeong, I would be able to come to terms with not knowing where he is.

I saw someone mention that Gayeong is in a more stable situation with her mom and stepdad now that her mom and Gihun are divorced, and that’s honestly probably very true. So they’re right, Gihun doesn’t really need to BE there. Gayeong is safer where she is. What irks me though, and i know im not the only person who feels this way, is that when you’re that young and your parents are arguing in front of you and are obviously unhappy with each other, it hurts A LOT to witness it all.

So, my point being, I can understand Gihun opting to stay in Korea and can even slightly understand him ghosting Gayeong. I still don’t know why he would call her, say nothing, and then just wait for her to hang up as that’s just kinda weird regardless, but I can see what his intentions are.

And also, I don’t think Gayeong is hurting as much as we think she is. At least not anymore. It’s absolutely devastating to lose your birth parent in any fashion, but she has a lot more facilities and space in America to get the help she needs to overcome the hurt. As we saw in season one, her stepdad is well off, so surely her therapy bills are being paid for.

On the other side of that coin, I think that’s why Gihun turned around. Maybe he originally was going to go visit, maybe he was going to move to America to keep an eye on her from a distance. But once he knew there were more people about to suffer just as he did, he made one of the hardest decisions a parent could make in a split second by turning around. If my dad did that, I think I’d be proud of him. I’d be hurt at first, but eventually, I’d be happy for him if I knew.

[kittynugg]

hi i wrote some stangst

forgst

words: 1,737

p.s: REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!! credit to my pal @empressofsamoyeds (soorry for the tag) for the idea! ALSO DO NOT TAG THIS AS SHIP CONTENT. THIS IS NOT FOR YOU IF YOU SHIP THEM.

Stan stepped out of the shower, shuddering as the cold air hit his skin. Like every other time he showered he was quick to towel himself off and get dressed in the first clothes he could get his hands on. So.. the clothes he’d been wearing for the past month, now? They smelled. He’d have to do something about that sooner or later.

The mirror was fogged up as he tied up his damp hair, but he could still see just enough of what he was doing to get it done. 

He stared at his blurry reflection. When he reached to wipe the condensation off of the surface he hesitated, his expression somehow going more blank than that numbness he’d been used to for years. That was.. Funny. He kinda looked like Ford with his hair up like that and the mirror all foggy.

No, he really looked like him.

That familiar empty feeling washed over him as he looked into the mirror, his brain filling in the blanks made by the distorted surface. A pair of glasses. A coat. The haunted look of a guy who’d seen things that shouldn’t even be possible in his eyes.

It took him a while to tear his attention away, maybe a couple of minutes, but once he did he rubbed the sting out of his eyes and left the bathroom. His “walk” had become more of a trudge in the past few weeks. He did whatever that was down the hall. Something about almost seeing his face made his feet even heavier, made the decision to get up that morning even more regrettable.

But it also gave him this weird resolve to keep going.

Maybe if he didn’t kill himself he could actually see that face. Alive, safe, maybe even happy. 

He kicked open the door to the office or study he was staying in, announcing in a sitcom-y voice, “honey, I’m home!” Then he put his hands on his hips with a distant grin. “Oh, wait! I don’t have a wife! Or a husband! I’m all alone and nobody fuckin’ loves me because the only person who ever did is god-knows-where!” An unhinged laugh bubbled up in his chest.

“..Anyway,” he flattened after finishing his manic display, then collapsed face-first into the couch he’d been ‘sleeping’ on. Nice couch. Felt like the only thing in the world that actually supported him. “But it’s an inanimate object,” Ford would say, not getting the joke. 

And then he’d say something like.. “You’re an inanimate object, nerd.” Then Ford would tell him that was wrong and that he wasn’t making any sense. Stan would just laugh at him.

Back in the real world, he shifted on the cushions to make himself comfortable. He knew just how bad the idea was. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get up. Right now, he just couldn’t force himself to care. Whenever he was up, he’d be up. Wasn’t like anything was waiting for him. Ford actually wasn’t on the other side of that portal, facing whatever it was that had him terrified enough to speak to him again. 

Everything was fine. Great, even! So great that he didn’t want to think about it anymore. He heaved a muffled sigh into the couch, knowing that if he pulled his face away from it now it’d be stained with tears. Now he was fucking crying.

Pa would tell him to man up and do something about it. When he tried, his arms wouldn’t move to push him up and his legs only shifted into a more comfortable position. The couch was warm. The basement was so, so cold.

Get up.

He tried again. This time he was too lazy to move at all.

Repeating the command didn’t work. Get up.

Just get up. You need to get up so you can work on the portal so you can get Ford back so you won’t have a reason to cry anymore. Come on, this is the first step. The first step is always the hardest. Up up up. Please.

Instead of listening, his body just sighed again. Then he folded his arms under his forehead to put some space between his face and the couch and shut his eyes.

----

Eventually, he found himself blearily waking up with half of his body hanging on the couch and the rest on the floor. The very first thing that caught his eye was the light from the window glinting against Ford’s glasses, abandoned on the table where he could be reminded of why he was still kicking every time he woke up.

He peeled himself off the hardwood floor with a grunt and stood there for a moment as his shitty excuse for a brain sputtered and revved like his car when he tried to start it. He’d have to do something about that sooner or later.

…

Ford. Right.

A hesitant hand reached toward the glasses, and he turned them in his hand. The lenses were smudged. Ford never let his glasses get smudged. Always crystal clear or it was like he didn’t have them at all, they had to be perfect. He wondered if Ford still carried a spare on him. If he didn’t.. Shit, Stan couldn’t even imagine that. Not just being sucked into whatever nightmare he was so worried about but having to deal with it blind.

The thought of Ford, his brother, of all the people on this Earth (or.. outside of it), going through that made him sick. Maybe he should eat sometime today. Slice of toast might settle his stomach down for a bit. 

He stared down at the spectacles in his hand and shook his head, then wiped them on his shirt. Lifting them up to the window shone enough light through the lenses for him to see that they were still smudged, just.. Spread around. His shirt was dirty.

Typical, he just made it worse. A look was cast around the room, nearly untouched in the month he’d been there.  “Just fuckin’ poetic,” he whispered to himself if only to test if he even had it in him to talk. “It’s just like my life.” His eyes narrowed at the glasses. “..In a way.”

Barely resisting the urge to throw the damn thing, he set the glasses back on the table and looked toward the door. He should get to work.

He picked up the glasses again, leaving the room with the gait of someone wading in cement. 

It was the same autopilot he’d been on for ages that led him back into the bathroom. When he slipped the glasses onto his face, his vision actually cleared a little. Maybe he should look into getting an eye test sometime. 

He put up a finger and spoke in his best Ford impression, “I may be a little bookworm, but I know what I’m talking about!” The sheer accuracy of the voice made him chuckle. He sounded just like him!

When he found himself staring at his reflection again, his other hand reached for the shower. The knob creaked as he turned it to the highest temperature and he watched absently as the mirror fogged up again.

Hair was up. Glasses were on.

They really were twins..

His shoulders drooped, and after a few seconds of careful consideration he spoke up. “Hey, Poindexter.” No, that wasn’t right. Say his name. “..Ford.” 

Another pause. Then he folded his arms behind his back and spoke in that impression again. “Stanley,” he greeted himself under his breath. Something about it, something about hearing Ford’s voice and– and almost seeing his face was..

It hurt.

But it felt good. The kind of hurt that he couldn’t help but reach for, like the burn of alcohol or a cigarette. Speaking of which, he was running out. He’d have to do something about that sooner or later. Not now. He was busy right now.

“I’m, uh..” his fingertips tapped together in a subconscious tic. “Still trying to get you back, Ford.” A smile spread across his face and he gestured behind him with his thumb. “I’ve been reading your textbooks, yanno, it���s actually startin’ to make sense. It’s not as fancy and sophisticated as you had it but it’s something to show for all the work I’ve been puttin’ in..”

Arms made their way behind his back again and he straightened his posture a little. “My idiot brother, learning physics..” A wistful sigh from “Ford”. “And it only took the worst tragedy of your life to finally kickstart it.” His expression softened, and he moved to place his hand on a shoulder that wasn’t there. His fingers twitched. “You know I’m proud of you, right? Not everyone would go through this much effort for.. Anyone, really.”

He needed to hear that. From the real Ford. This was good enough for now.

“I know, yeah.. I just– I hope you’re still out there. If you’re dead, or.. worse, I don’t know what I’d do with myself, Ford. I don’t know what I’d fucking do, and–” he took in a sharp breath, running a hand down the side of his face. His nails dug into the skin. “And I’m really scared to think about it.”

Silence.

His voice cracked when he spoke again. “..I’m scared, Ford.” The glasses over his eyes and the fog fading from the mirror left him with nothing. Nothing. A reminder of just how little he had. That was it.

And Ford offered no response.

Tears dirtied the lenses of the glasses even more, so he took them off and swiped at his eyes. He set them on the rim of the sink. This was stupid. All of this was stupid. Why was he still here? Why was he still holding on?

His legs wobbled underneath him and he just.. sat on the floor and gave in. With a shaky breath, he gave his tears a moment to fall and murmured into his knees, “because you’re my brother.”

It took him a few minutes. Maybe half an hour. But eventually, Stan pushed himself up and retrieved Ford’s glasses. He rinsed them in the sink to clean the dried tears off of them and only stopped when they were spotless. Crystal clear. The way Ford liked them.

Turning to leave, he muttered, “Love you, bro.”

“I love you too, Stanley. I’m sorry for everything.”

..He already forgave him.

(note: might be a part two with ford if im feeling brave)

[burntheedges]

get to know your moots

thank you for tagging me @ace-turned-confused @kedsandtubesocks @sawymredfox @iknowisoundcrazy @jeewrites @katareyoudrilling @ghotifishreads 🧡 I freaking love these lol I know it's been a minute but hi, here I am.

what's the origin of your blog title?: username and title are both from a Hozier song, Eat Your Young (because "I'm starving, darling" is how I feel about Joel Miller)

OTP(s) + shipname: alright I've been reading fic since I was 12, here are some of the highlights in vaguely chronological order - Dramione (but like, in the 2000s, lmao), Drarry, Sterek, Johnlock, Arthur/Eames, Stucky, Stony, Sirmione, Wolfstar, Damen/Laurent, 00Q, Spirk, PPCU/reader, Rookanis, DinLuke

favorite color: orange

favorite game: Dragon Age Veilguard, Dragon Age Inquisition, the Mass Effect trilogy, Stardew Valley, BOTW, TOTK

song stuck in your head: Not Like Us, Kendrick Lamar

weirdest habit/trait?: hmmm my husband would say it's no outside clothes allowed on the bed, but I don't think that's weird. probably biting my cuticles. 😬

hobbies: knitting, sewing, writing, gaming

if you work, what's your profession?: let's not talk about work lmao

if you could have any job you wish what would it be?: I don't wish for work lol but maybe owning a book store or yarn shop.

something you're good at: languages, parallel parking, overextending myself

something you're bad at: not overextending myself. feeling my feelings.

something you love: talking to people who love the same things I love 🧡, going to concerts

something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: knitting, linguistics, languages, video games, hockey

something you hate: everything going on right now in the US

something you collect: hmm I used to collect a lot of things and then I moved across the country multiple times and got tired of having stuff. books, probably lol

something you forget: anything that's not in my calendar

what's your love language?: fyi the love languages book is fundamentalist nonsense BUT I do feel very loved when my husband does what they call acts of service (which he knows). that's what I tend to do by default, too, but he likes when I use my words.

favorite movie/show: LOTR, Ever After, Deep Space 9, The Matrix, Clueless, Inception, TLOU, The Mandalorian, Skyfall, Pacific Rim, CA:TWS, Andor, so many others lol

favorite food: pasta, a perfect caeser salad, sopes, sushi

favorite animal: cats. also hippos, those big dorks

are you musical?: I was kicked out of band lol but I was in a singing group in high school and another later. I can read music ok

what were you like as a child?: looking back, obviously unmedicated for ADHD, lmao. but extroverted and hyperaware, really

favorite subject at school?: languages, and then history

least favorite subject?: science, but mostly because some of my teachers sucked and I was socialized to think I was supposed to be bad at it

what's your best character trait?: probably my empathy?

what's your worst character trait?: not taking the time to think (I'm working on it)

if you could change any detail of your day right now what would it be?: I want my cold to be gone lol

if you could travel in time who would you like to meet?: ETA just realized I never answered this one. I spent a lot of time thinking about it and I'm still not sure!

recommend one of your favorite fanfics (spread the love!):

I have yet again begun to reread Be-All and Endor by @djarins-cyare because it brings me comfort (which I've needed lately) 🧡

A new favorite is The Morning Commute by @iknowisoundcrazy -- speed!AU Javi! god I love it

I think a lot of people have already done this, but in case you haven't, np tagging: @maggiemayhemnj @secretelephanttattoo @schnarfer @the-mandawhor1an @sixhours

@@davnittbraes @wannab-urs @justagalwhowrites @beardedjoel @futuraa-free

[satanghulu]

his car isn’t yours

satan x g!n reader, cw: angst

“Tan.”

You watch him with that soft smile.

The blond went in for a hug, and your smile widened, pulling hard at the side of your lips. You step past him, glancing around the room. “How was the meeting?”

“It went okay.”

He paws at your arm, looking for attention. You let out a huff of laughter, letting him drape over you while you comb through his hair affectionately. He lifts you up and carries you over his shoulder in a practiced move.

You let out a loud squeal.

“Hey–” You hold on tightly as your throat goes dry, arm wrapping around the back of his neck.

“Missed you.” 

Sickeningly sweet, you think.

“Me too.” 

The words taste like lead in your mouth. 

Reaching his destination, he sets you down on the bed gently. Your arms drop, and you pull him in closer, a habit ingrained in you as you pepper kisses on his face. (Like a well-trained dog, really. It’s a bitter feeling.)

The room goes quiet, only the beating of your heart echoing. There’s a familiar knot in your stomach that comes and goes. 

“Tan?”

You refuse to call him anything but that damned nickname. (There’s nothing weird about using a nickname with your lover but you stare past him whenever you use it, almost like you’re searching for a shadow of someone behind him–)

He pauses and nudges his nose into the palm of your hand. It's almost sweet if he can ignore that your mouth forms the first syllabus of another name.

“I love you.”

Every emotion inside you bubbles, carbonated with thoughts. You still before forcing your fingers to curl in the tangles of his hair. “Me too.”

He smiles, hands creeping up to grasp your face.

“I know.” He lies. There’s no space for him to judge you. He rubs a finger up and down the web between your thumb and index finger.

“Thank you.” He lets himself be tangled in this web of pretense, it doesn’t matter to him. Silence hangs about both of you, and he lets himself close his eyes. (He wants to stay in this moment. He’s always been good at pretending to be someone else. Lucifer told him so too.)

You suck in a breath, a silver of teeth poking through. It feels stuffy, the taste of something metallic forms on your tongue.

“I’m sorry.”

He has always been good to you, and you love him. Just not the way he loves you. (Maybe in another lifetime, you could have built one together.)

You gently brush a finger over his brow bone, sweeping a strand of hair to the side. You echo an apology again, leaning down to place a kiss right between his eyes. 

He pretends to sleep, fingers tightening on the grasp of your clothes.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Hi ! I hope I'm not bothering you. I tried looking through your blog and I didn't find an answer to this question, though I'm à bit new to Tumblr so I hope I didn't just miss it! But I was wondering if you had a headcanon/idea on Harry's reaction if he were to meet his parents/Sirius back in time. You know, like these stories where he is sent back after the war/when he dies and wake up in the 70s/80s ? (Also, your blog is just sooo interesting! I love your ideas)

Hello 👋

And no, i dont think i talked about this before.

Like, this is fic territory, so you can go a lot of ways with this, honestly. It also highly depends on when in the 70s/80s he goes back to. Like, is James still the bully from SWM? Are we going for later in the period toward his death and are generous in his character interpretation? Is the war raging full force already, or is it the first years when no one really knows what it's going to become yet? Is Lily still friends with Snape? After or before Sirius ran away from home?

There are just a lot of details regarding the exact point in the timeline we chose that can really affect Harry's reaction. Similarly, when Harry goes back in time, it can be just as important. During OotP, Harry stops idolizing his father as much, so it would definitely affect how he sees him. Also, if say, it's a Harry in early PoA who goes back in time, he'd be sympathetic to Peter and think Sirius is the traitor. After GoF, I think Harry would react really badly to Peter, etc.

But we're talking post-war Harry (as you mentioned), who, let's say, meets his parents and Sirius at the same age he is, so all of them are recent Hogwarts graduates and full-time Order members who live on James' money in his house. Peter and Remus are also part of the Order, but not living with the Potters and Sirius trio.

I mentioned in the past I think Harry looks like a decent mix of his parents, but the combination of his hair + glasses makes everyone see him more as James. Point is, he looks very obviously like James and Lily's kid. And James, Lily, and Sirius aren't stupid. They're gonna be able to tell it's weird. Especially if Harry appears out of nowhere in front of them.

Honestly, I think Harry would cry a little seeing them alive and well. Post-war Harry would have some concerns about messing with time, but then he'd look at them again and go "to hell with it" and warn them about everything, I think. Like, I think he would just tell them. Especially if it's not post-war Harry, but one at the moment of his death. If he just appears next to a living James, Lily, and Sirius I think he'd have a little breakdown.

I mean, he is tired. He is traumatized, in pain, he just got the courage to walk to his death to save everyone, and here are the people who should've been there to protect him and make sure none of it would happen. The people who died so he wouldn't, and then he had to die anyway.

Like, that's gonna be emotional. It's gonna be painful and joyous. I think he'd think he's dead at first, that this is the afterlife, but when none of them really knows him or what's going on, that would be a pretty big clue he traveled in time (unless he knew he was traveling in time, of course, but that really depends on the fic).

Now, this Harry knows about the Horcruxes, and he knows exactly where all of them are. He's gonna speed run this killing Voldemort business, that would be like, a high priority of his. But I think he'd hesitate about walking to his death again after getting to know his parents and Sirius. At the same time, he'd wonder if he does it, if he dies again, he would return to his own time and Ron and Hermione. Becouse he loves his parents and Sirius, but he also loves his friends from his own time he left behind. The living ones who might now have a better life for what he changed in the past.

Basically, plenty of space for this sort of angst if you want it.

I think he'd end up really weirded out by James, in a way. Becouse, while James would treat him like family (therefore great, James was clearly loyal and treated the people he cared about really well), he would probably not act how Harry always imagined him to. Not that they wouldn't get along, but I feel like they'd have more tension in their dynamic. Becouse Harry knows about the bullying that he even lied to Lily about, but he also just really wants to love his dad. I think, if James really did grow up and become a little less arrogant with war and loss, they would get along better. I think though, even with a younger James, Harry would find him funny when he isn't being too obnoxious.

Lily would also not be who Harry imagined her as, not exactly, but I think they'd get along great. I think they just operate on a similar wavelength and have a similar sense of humor. Harry’s definitely gonna ask her about Snape, too (because he saw his memories already), and I think Lily would really not know what to think of Snape with what Harry tells her (though, you know Harry's gonna sugarcoat it becouse it's his mom and he doesn't want her to be upset).

And I low-key think a time-traveling Harry who meets a 19-year-old (he was born in 1979, he's a November baby) Sirius would have a little crush on Sirius. Like, the fic doesn't have to go that way, but Harry is likley going to be waxing poetic about Sirius Black’s haughty looks, silver eyes, and elegant black hair throughout the whole story becouse that's just realistic and how Harry is.

Sirius is also the one in this group Harry is closest to (yes, he knows Remus, but he wasn't as close to him as to Sirius, and if Harry met 18-year-old Peter he just might kill him on impulse or ensure he can't betray them again some other way). So Harry would probably still feel closest to him. I also think he misses him the most. I mean, he missed James and Lily all his life, he never really knew them — missing the concept of them is par for the course for him. Sirius and Remus, on the other hand, these griefs are new and so much more painful.

Personally, I like sending Harry back when the Mauraders (and him) are still at school. For more tension with James and so he wouldn't have the solution for the war already in his hands. Also, it could be really fun if he goes back in HBP, so it's after Sirius dies and after SWM. Also, he'd get to meet Snape (the prince) as he writes in the potions book and have a little breakdown over that too, so like, that could be fun.

It's not the most organized, becouse you can take this premise in many ways, but these are some of my thoughts. Obviously, Harry's reactions really depend on the exact circumstances and what kind of story you want to write.

[graciegoeskrazy]

and i say do u wanna dance?

(Matty Healy x Daughter!r)

warnings: matty messes up (ugh), queen gab, crying, ballet, some nutcracker references but dw if u know nothing about it it’s fine, bit shorter than I wanted but not short tho (???)

a/n: HEY. WHADUP. IM ALIVE. I think I hate this. Like I could’ve made it better but I also don’t think I could’ve made it better. thank twin for requesting 🫂💌

You never thought you’d be in this big of a production of the Nutcracker, let alone playing Clara. You Dad swears he’s never seen you smile as wide as you did when you found out you got the part. The last nearly 5 months were filled with rehearsals almost every night, preparing for the Nutcracker. School would end and you would rush home, quickly doing your homework before having to get dressed and out the door for rehearsal. Gabi, loved getting you ready. She always joked it’s like she has a little doll to play dress up with now, and she always did your ballet buns better than your dad ever did. Although, he did try his best everytime.

It was all kind of chaotic, and sometimes stressful, but there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

Dance had been your life, and the studio had been your second home. You loved your dance friends so much, and landing the Clara role was proof that your teachers saw progress and potential in you. Everything was going great, and everything you had been working towards was about to be put on display.

You didn’t have nerves, it was all just adrenaline. You remembered the seat numbers Gabi had told you they’d be in - Her, Charli, your Grandmother, and your Father. He kissed you goodbye that very morning, pressing a kiss to your cheek, telling you how excited he was for tonight. Letting you know he would probably have tears in his eyes the second he saw you on stage.

You tried your best to find them in the crowd from the very beginning, but you failed, too worried about keeping your spacing during the opening party scene.

It wasn’t until your solo when you could finally make your way to downstage center and take a good look into their section.

Gabi was there, smiling as wide as possible. Charli and your Grandmother right next to her with proud looks on their faces. But, it was just the three of them.

No Matty. No Dad. No tears. Just an empty seat.

It took everything in you to keep dancing - not to cry and run off stage. He wasn't there, and he said he would. No - he promised.

You took your final bow in line with Marzipan and the Sugar Plum Fairy right on either side of you. It was a weird feeling, all these fantastic, professional dancers, and then there’s little you. It was a moment you should’ve been proud of, but all you could think about was your father, and what his excuse would be this time.

You opened the stage door and were immediately met with your ‘adoring fans’ as Charli put it. You ran to Gabi first thing and she scooped you up into a tight hug.  “You were fantastic, y/n! So beautiful!”

You giggled as you hugged her and talked with Charli and Denise, briefly forgetting about your fleeting thought and what was to come.

You said goodbye to your grandmother and aunt and walked back to the car hand in hand with your stepmother.

After a moment, you spoke.

“Do you know where he is?”

She gave you a weak smile, “I called him before the show when he hadn’t gotten here yet. No answer.”

You hummed and she continued. “I called him during intermission too. He said he got caught up in the studio with the boys and completely forgot.”

Her heart broke when she saw your face shift. It wasn’t anger or madness, it was just hurt.

“I told him to not bother anymore.”

You just nodded.

She opened the car door for you and gave you a hand to crawl in the backseat of the car. As soon as she turned the car on her phone started ringing. You could see your dad’s name show up on the car screen. She picked up her phone and answered, “Hello?” She let out a long sigh as she pulled out of the parking lot. “Hi.” You heard low mumbling on the other line, but couldn’t quite make out what he was saying. After a moment, she turned and handed you the phone. “It’s your father, he wants to talk to you.”

You hesitantly took the phone, taking a deep breath before answering. “Hello?” You said, voice even.

“Y/n! Oh my God- Hi, sweet girl. How are you?” He spoke rushed, panicked even.

“I’m fine.” You said, no meaning behind it.

“Yeah? Good, good. Listen to me…I am so sorry baby-”

“I don’t want to talk to you right now-”

He didn’t listen, just kept talking. “I’m on my way home right now. I’ll be there before you know it.”

“I don’t want you home. I don’t want to see you.” You said, eyes starting to fill with tears. “I told you to be here.”

He sighed, “I know sweet girl-”

“Then why weren’t you here?” You asked, lips wobbling and tears, quickly nearing a ten.

“I just caught up with work things, baby. I’m so sorry-”

“It’s always work. It’s always some lazy excuse that’s apparently more important than me.”

He sighed, “Stop it, y/n. You know that’s not true.” He said, voice firm but still gentle.

“It is true. It’s always true. I’m always the last thing you worry about.”

“That’s ridiculous, Y/n.”

“It’s how I feel.” He was silent after that. You scoffed after a moment, “Here’s Mom, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Baby, wait-”

You handed the phone back to Gabi before he could get another word out.

…

You woke the next morning with a headache and a lingering feeling in your chest. All you can remember was crying into Gabi as she put you to bed. She quickly changed you into one of your favorite matching pj sets and grabbed a makeup wipe, trying to get all of your stage makeup off to make sure you didn’t sleep in any. You wrapped your arms around her, burrowing your head into her chest as you cried. She held you like that for a while, even after you fell asleep. Even after she heard the front door open and shut, signalling that Matty had finally gotten home.

When you pried your eyes open you were met with gold rays streaming in from the window. You stayed staring outside for a moment. Thinking. This wasn’t the first time your dad had done something like this, and it made your heart hurt knowing that it probably wouldn't be the last.

He loved you. You knew that. But some days it was hard to remember it.

You heard a knock at your door.

“Hey.” Gabi said, quietly, peeking her head through the door.

You flipped over in bed to face the door, lifting your arm and hand toward her, something you did frequently to signal her over to sit next to you.

She smiles as she walks over. You moved over a little to make more room and she laid down, letting you snuggle into her.

“Daddy’s awake. You wanna go see him?”

You quickly shook your head. “No,” you said.

“He wants to come see your second show tonight-”

“I don’t want him there.” You mumbled into her.

She sighed as she moved her fingers delicately through your hair. “He wants to see you perform, you know? He wants to see all your hard work pay off.”

“He didn’t want to last night?”

Gabi hates situations like these - being caught in the middle. She could never stay mad at Matty, although he made it pretty hard to keep that up after last night. She never wanted to make it seem like she was picking sides whenever something like this happened, even though nine times out of ten she would’ve picked yours.

“I know you’re mad at him, and you have every right to be. He messed up an awful lot yesterday. But, he loves you more than anything. More than he loves me.”

“That’s not true.”

She laughed, “Wanna bet?” Your face twisted in confusion. She settled deeper under the sheets. “When your Daddy and I first started dating, all those years ago, we knew we were in love and knew it was getting pretty serious.” You both adjusted yourselves, now lying on your sides to look at each other. “We had a conversation, the first of many. Will we get married? Have kids? Be an actual couple? All that stuff. But at the end of it, he looked at me seriously, and you want to know what he told me?”

You thought for a moment, but you were already too involved with the story. “What?” You said.

Gabi smiled, “He said, ‘I love you, and I want to love you for the rest of my life, but you have to understand that nothing will compare to the love I have for that little girl.”

She smiled, continuing to run her hands through your hair. You sat for a beat, thinking. You looked up at her wide-eyed, “He really said that?”

She nodded, “Cross my heart…”

You hummed, lying down on your back again, Gabi copying you.

“I know you didn’t ask for it, but everything he does, now and forever, it’s all been for you, Y/n.” She wiped a tear off your face you hadn’t realized had fallen. “He really does love you more than anything in this world, and he’ll probably keep beating himself up until you forgive him.”

You curled into her again, “I’m still mad.”

“Oh, I know. And you have every right to be. Hell, I would be too. You don’t have to forgive him right away, just know that he wants to be with you, and will be there whenever you need it, alright?”

You nodded.

…

The morning light filtered through the kitchen window as you stepped inside, Gabi leading the way. Matty was already there, slouched at the table with a half-empty cup of coffee in front of him. His curls were messy, his eyes tired, but they softened when he saw you.  

“Hi, baby. Good morning,” he said, voice warm despite the weight behind it.  

“Good morning,” you replied, moving to sit at the counter.  

Gabi was already at the stove, glancing back at you. “You want your usual, Y/n?”

“Yes, please.”

“Alright, I’m on it.” She gave you a small smile before turning back to the pan.  

Matty leaned forward, watching you. “How’d you sleep?”

You shrugged, pushing your sleeves up. “Fine.”

“Yeah? Not too bad?” he pressed gently.  

“Mhm.”  

He nodded, chewing the inside of his cheek. There was a pause - one where you didn’t look at him, and he didn’t look away from you. Then, he inhaled sharply.  

“Do you think I could come tonight? Go watch you dance?” 

Your hand hesitated midair, spoon hovering over your plate.  

You thought of last night. Of waiting by the backstage door, your stomach twisted into knots, scanning every unfamiliar face in the crowd, hoping one of them would be him. You thought of slipping off your ballet shoes, the ache in your toes nothing compared to the ache in your chest when you realized - he wasn’t coming.  

Before you could answer, he spoke again.  

“I know I messed up, Y/n. And messed up bad. But you have to know the last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you.”

You stared at your plate, lips pressed together. He sounded so small, like he wasn’t sure if he even deserved to ask.  

“I am so, so, so sorry, Y/n.”  

You let out a slow breath, glancing up at him. His hands were folded tightly together, his shoulders hunched like he was bracing for you to shut him out completely.  

“You can come tonight.”  

Matty’s head snapped up, eyes searching yours.  

“Yeah?”  

You nodded.  

He exhaled a laugh, almost in disbelief. “Thank you, baby.”  

And later that night, when the curtains parted and the music swelled, he sat in the audience with tears slipping down his face.  

Because he was right.  

He cried the moment he saw you on stage.

[lover-of-mine]

Lady Whistledown... it's been a minute for sure. You can chose not to post this because clearly BT is dead and deep down they know. But... if you feel like a visit to Narnia here we go......

So basically after the break up yes they were extremely pissed that none of the 911 family cared about Tommy or encouraged Buck to call him. Also the fact Bucks emotional turmoil ended on Eddie leaving not on a Tommy cliff hanger. This also was paired with weeks of how dare the 911 family abondem him because the hospital scene was again a reminder that the 118 is a family. And since in their view I think they picture Tommy as a creature of the night Buck took his family away.

A little bit lately it's going back into Eddie and Tommy territory. You remember how really, they honestly wanted Eddie and Tommy together. Super pissed no Tommy Christopher scenes. Is there any way Tommy can still step in and maybe secretly messaging Chris to get him home?

Also some days pretty gross about wishing Christopher is gone forever so they can open up Tommy coming back to replace Eddie. My Gavin protection and representation instincts can't stand that.

Proving they still are just I don't know not nice people. They hope Tim makes a whole episode that mimics the city burning down all for Tommy to be in a helicopter and Buck freak out. Also it feeds into their spin off show fantasies. But since the air support in LA became a real viral thing this is even better because then Tommy gets to be the real star and Buck the side character.

Orders given frequently on what to comment and not comment on SM. For instance the rain photo a super no no. Ignore the fact it was because of the spoiler and stay in line.

But one weird one. No one actually believes that's Tommy's truck. It's pretty excepted that obviously Buck got a new vehicle after the jeep broke down. We just will never get a back story.

Insane anger over the baking being transferred to Eddie leaving. It's not a Tommy thing it's a stress thing.

Now that we leave Narnia. I would just encourage monitoring in boxes. They know they only have a few weeks to be on their Bsish. They hate Maddies Bucks focus in the promo and depending on how the timline goes also Eddie. Also it's Canon Tommy knew about the "himbo" and the boils call. So when what goes down with Maddie happens, then if Tommy doesn't reach out its purposely erasing the TommyBuddles Buck. There's no space for Tommy. And also bit of spiraling on how exactly is Buck going to act out. Greatest fear? Buck 1.0

Of I remember anything new happy to come back. It's been a wild few months!!

Hello my love 🫶

I see they are still wild out there. I can't believe they still haven't let go of Tommy fixing the Chris situation. Talking about Gavin is next-level evil imo, he's a kid, let him be. The illusions that a scene that very clearly put Tommy as an outsider because he wasn't on the gc and he had to ask for Buck to volunteer the information is so funny to me, like, how clear do they have to be?

This was a wild ride to read tho, I love how they keep surprising me on how unhinged they can get.

[musicalmoritz]

So many straight ship enjoyers have a weird victim complex abt ppl disliking their ships. They jump to “you only hate it because it’s straight” with little to no awareness of how the outside world works. It makes me a little concerned for their intelligence. I know gay shippers also throw around the “you hate it because it’s gay” accusation a lot but at least that comes from a place of realism. Homophobia is rampant even in a lot of seemingly progressive internet spaces, so it makes sense that people would assume that’s the reason for people getting a little too aggressive against queer ships. But heterophobia isn’t real, even if some queer people do hate straights that’s a personal issue, not a societal one

Straight people are in everything, literally everything. Even a lot of queer media includes some trace of heterosexuality. That coupled with the real life homophobia queer people face, it makes sense that a lot of us don’t have much interest in seeing MORE straight ppl in our fan content. It baffles me that many queer fans can’t seem to wrap their heads around this concept??? Are ya’ll trying to make yourselves look like one of the “good” ones or smth???

I think this is also an easy way for people to write off different opinions. “You don’t actually have an interesting critique, you’re just gay” or smth like that. They also always end up turning it into some subtly homophobic rhetoric about how “not everything has to be gay” and “stop trying to make that character a lesbian.” It’s always the evil gay agenda at hand. Have you ever considered maybe your ship sucks ass and not everyone has to like it??? Just a thought

And I want to clarify that I do enjoy a lot of straight ships. But when I see fellow queer fans uninterested in those pairings or preferring to ship same sex couples instead, I mind my own damn business and let them think differently. I don’t clutch my pearls and accuse them of only hating the ship because it’s straight, because so what if they do?? That is not hurting anybody. More likely than not, that person is just sick of people irl trying to make them feel abnormal for their sexuality, and they want to focus on the pairings that provide them with an escape from that. That issue is far more important ham the imaginary fear that straight people might become oppressed

This is much more aggressive than my usual posts but I had to get this out of my system bcuz omggggggg some of ya’ll piss me off. Actually not ya’ll specifically. I made this post because of a TikTok. But people act this way across all platforms so ya, feel targeted. Or don’t. I’m burnt out on internet arguments so I’m not rly making this yap to fist fight anyone. If you have an argument then that’s lovely and great but I will probably block you instead of reading it bcuz I do occasionally touch grass. This might come as a surprise but there are some things I’m not chronically online enough for

[angelasscribbles]

Best of My Love: A Victim of Love One-Shot

Series: Victim of Love

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Drake x Riley. Drake x Hana mentioned.

Word Count: 958

Rating: G, fluff

Warnings for this chapter: none

Written for the @choicesficwriterscreations Valentine's event.

My other stuff: Master List.

The bell jingled as he strode through the door. The sweet floral scent of begonias and petunias washed over him as he made his way to the counter.

The young woman behind the counter smiled politely. “Hello, sir. Are you here to order flowers for Valentine’s Day?”

He grinned broadly. “Yes! I was looking for something with roses and lavender.”

The bell jingled again and a voice from his past spoke. “Well, as I live and breathe if it isn’t Drake Walker!”

“Fuck!” He swore softly under his breath. Turning around, he pasted a polite smile on his face. “Shayla. How have you been?”

“I’ve been good, sugar!” She invaded his personal space and grabbed him in a tight hug. “How about you?”

Drake leaned forward so that only his upper body was engaged in the hug, patting her on the back lightly. He quickly disengaged and stepped back. “Never better. Got married last year.” He held up his left hand to show off the gold band glinting on his ring finger.

“Anyone I know?”

He shook his head. “Met her in Cordonia.”

“Cordonia?” She said it like it was something disgusting.

“Yes.”

“Is that why we haven’t seen you around the rodeo circuit lately? The little wifey made you quit?” The curvaceous brunette smirked. “Those city girls just don’t get it.”

“She didn’t make me quit. I don’t know if you know this or not, but I’m a grown ass man capable of making my own choices and decisions.”

“And you chose to stop bull riding?”

“Yes. Why do you say it like it’s hard to believe or something?”

“Because I know you, Drake. You’re stupidly good at it. You’re a local legend. Why would you give that up?”

“Because I no longer want to risk my life.”

She scoffed with a shake of her head. “But you were so good!”

“I was also careless, reckless, and foolhardy.”

“I liked that about you.”

“So, you liked the part of me that had a death wish. Noted.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic. You loved it.”

“No. I loved the rush it gave me. But I love my family more. Riley gave me something to live for, and now I’m going to be a father. I won’t do anything to jeopardize my ability to be here for them.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re having a baby?”

“Yes.” He stood noticeably taller when he said it, pride coloring the simple utterance.

She shook her head with a frown as she moved around the counter and tied on an apron. “Never thought I’d see the day Drake Walker gave up women and bulls.”

“That was my past. Riley and the baby are my future.”

“All right, all right, don’t get your knickers in a bunch.” Turning back toward him, she studied his face for a moment, and then her expression softened. “Well, I’ll be damned. You’re really in love!”

His brow furrowed in annoyance. “Why do you seem so shocked by that?”

She burst out laughing. “Because I didn’t think you were capable of it.”

“Oh.” He shifted awkwardly, unsure how to respond to that.

“Oh, don’t make it weird! You’ve changed, Drake. Grown. That’s a good thing.”

He let out a relieved breath. “So, stop giving me a hard time about it.”

“I wasn’t.” She peered at him a moment longer with squinted eyes. “Did you think I was jealous?”

He went beet red as he mumbled, “Maybe.”

“Oh, Christ!” She laughed as she held her hand up in the air. “You’re not the only one that moved on.”

He examined the midsized diamond sparkling on her ring finger as his face broke out in a smile. “Congratulations! And sorry if I was being a conceited jerk. Anyone I know?”

“Shane Mahony,” she told him with a self satisfied grin.

“Skeeter?”

“The one and only.”

“He’s a good guy. I’m happy for you both.”

“Thanks. We should get together sometimes. His number’s still the same. So is mine. Give us a call. Okay, I’m going to clock in. Shelia here will get that order rung up for you.”

“Right.”

He’d order something for Hana online. The last thing he needed was for the whole town to think he was cheating on his wife.

Liam and Hana were in Cordonia while he and Riley were at the ranch so they wouldn’t be spending Valentine’s Day together.

He had no idea how to explain their relationship to others without making it sound like their marriage was open. When people thought that they often tried hitting on one of the four of them.

Their relationship was not open, it just had more than two people in it and that was hard for a lot of folks to understand. Especially hard core conservatives in the Bible Belt.

He quickly made and paid for his selection, waved goodbye to Shayla, and headed back to his truck.

He still needed to make reservations for dinner and a hotel room for Valentine’s Day. But the main surprise was lying on the back seat of his Quad Cab Ford F250.

He glanced in the rearview mirror at the drawing tube. He couldn’t wait to get home and show Riley the plans he’d had drawn up for their new home.

Splitting their time between Cordonia and America, they had been content to use his old room at the ranch, but with a baby on the way, he wanted their own space. In Cordonia they had Valtoria. Now they would have something of their own in Texas too.

He turned off the pavement onto a county two lane, turned the radio up, and started belting out lyrics as he accelerated toward home with sheer joy in his heart.