#i literally can't believe it's been a year
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
nandosbunni · 2 days ago
Text
our secret moments | 𝓯. 𝓪𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓸
pairing: fernando alonso x f!actress!reader, socmed!au
synopsis: you and fernando's rumored relationship isn't really a rumor at all.
a/n: nando needs more fics on this app. also, i just KNOW my pinterest feed will be filled with rich couple things and yachts bc i was so picky with the pics😭
yourusername
Tumblr media
Liked by carmenmmundt, fernandoalo_official, oscarpiastri and others
yourusername i'll take any excuse to go back to monaco. thanks for having me, @/astonmartinf1 💞
View all comments
username omggg, i didn't know y/n was an f1 fan
username she's not tho? all of these celebs are just here bc f1's more popular now
username lmao what are you talking abt?💀 she's been a fan since forever
username proof?
username google is free
username i see nando in her likes👀
username duh??😭 she was literally invited by aston martin
username pls even her past posts were liked by him
username y'all are delulu af
astonmartinf1 we were so happy to have you in the paddock today
yourusername any chance i'll be back there again?☺️
astonmartinf1 of course, entire crew loved you🤗
fernandoalo_official
Tumblr media
Liked by carlossainz55, francolapinto, yourusername and others
fernandoalo_official Love spending the summer break on the sea🌊⛵️
View all comments
username someone cooked and i'm 90% sure it isn't the pr team
username who then?
username they prolly think it's y/n but be fr
username the last pic🥵🔥
username forrealll
username man's supposed to be on break but he's already prepping for the next race😭
username omg is that y/n on the other jetski in the second pic???
username y'all need to stop being so crazy
username no wait, look at y/n's ig
yourusername
Tumblr media
Liked by fernandoalo_official, charles_leclerc, lilymhe and others
yourusername two weeks of this before filming starts 🌊
View all comments
username BOTH FERNANDO AND Y/N HAVING SIMILAR POSTS AT THE SAME TIME OHMYGOD
username i'm officially joining the fernandoy/n train bc what the hell this can't be a coincidence
username and they've been consistently liking each other's posts too😭
username ugh that swimsuit looks sooo good on her i'm in love😍
username you're not the only one in love
username unless they actually confirm it, i'm not believing anything
yourcostar so gorgeous! can't wait to see you 🤩
yourusername liked this comment
yourusername can't wait to see you too, bbg!!
username i'm soo excited for the next season
yourprivateaccount
Tumblr media
Liked by fernandoalo_official, georgerussell63, and others
yourprivateaccount just me, the sea, and my love ❤️
View all comments
carmenmmundt you look so lovely together🫶
yourprivateaccount liked this comment
yourprivateaccount we should def plan a couples trip one day, carm!
carmenmmundt yes please!
georgerussell63 wait what?
fernandoalo_official i see enough of george already
fernandoalo_official I can't wait to see you again, mi corazón ❤️
yourprivateaccount liked this comment
yourprivateaccount me too. i miss you already, nando ❤️
landonorris get a room
yourprivateaccount stfu or i'll make nando gift you coal for this year's secret santa
fernandoalo_official You give me reasons to love you more and more
landonorris it's actually hilarious how the internet is going crazy over whether or not you're together
yourprivateaccount we love being a menace to society🥰
oscarpiastri a fan came up to me the other day and actually asked me if you two are together or not
yourprivateaccount omg osc i'm so sorry😭
fernandoalo_official posted a story!
Tumblr media
yourusername
Tumblr media
Liked by fernandoalo_official, carmenmmundt, yourcostar and others
yourusername just lace sleeves and roses in the dressing room
Comments on this post have been restricted.
336 notes · View notes
zyafics-recs · 2 days ago
Text
reblogging comment review from @zyafics
i lied (warning i don't think my commentary r that good) ⬇️
JJ cheered in the background, almost face-planting the ground as he struggled to get off his chair and call Pope.
that’s his bf fr
But watching Rafe Cameron—the boy who had idolized his father for years, now a man—sit in a chair facing countless cameras and strangers for hours as he recounted his life under Ward's control? That was a different kind of heartache.
he’s just a baby boy
Tumblr media
ALT
View on Twitter
The barriers between you two seemed insurmountable.
climb that wall
Luke laughed, a deranged sound, and lunged. You swung the skillet with all your might. It connected with his shoulder, the impact reverberating up your arm
this scene is supposed to be serious but i imagined tommy and jerry where jerrry hit jerry with a pan or smth and the thing bounces off of him wobbly 😭😭ok back to reading (i wanna let u know the lengths i went through to make this gif bc i literally downloaded it and made it myself)
Tumblr media
(i wanna let u know the lengths i went through to make this gif bc i literally downloaded it and made it myself)
You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat, a sob escaping instead. Your knees gave out, and you sank to the floor, the phone slipping slightly in your grasp. The room felt like it was closing in on you, the walls pressing down, the silence deafening except for your labored breathing.
this is claustrophobic
"Sit here," Rafe said, motioning to the edge of the bed. He disappeared for a moment, returning with a first-aid kit. He kneeled in front of you again, this time with a different purpose. "Lemme see your hands."
MY BABY TAKING CARE OF MY OTHER BABY
You swallowed hard, the weight of his words pressing against the barrier you'd built around your heart. “Why—Why did you pick up the phone?”“You know why.”
can we please just fuck and make up
Without a word, he slipped off his shoes
this took me out white boy why do u have shoes in the HOUSEEEEE
“…I don’t care what it fucking takes,” Rafe all but spat, his tone filled with determination. “Yeah, I know the charges will stick. Just make sure he doesn’t get out on bail. I don’t want him anywhere near her again.”
rafe is such an action man we love 💕
"I owe you everything," he murmured.
screeching under my pillow 🦅
“You’ve been alone?” You all but sob, “You’ve been here all this time? By yourself?”
the way ur dialogue is like a movie SOMEONE GET GIGI INTO THE WRITERS ROOM STAT
Your heart pounded in your chest as he closed the distance, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, hesitant kiss. It was as if he was testing the waters, ensuring you were okay with this, and when you didn’t pull away, the kiss deepened. His hand moved to the back of your neck, holding you gently but firmly as his lips explored yours.
SEXYYY TIMEEE 💃����💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻 i am so unserious
“I don’t care,” you replied, shaking your head. “You fucked me after I got shot.”
say it
"That night was different. We were different."
oh fuck off being a gentleman pls ✋🏼🤨
His voice trailed off, but his hands spoke for him, tracing patterns along your sides, sending shivers through you. His touch was reverent as if he was rediscovering you, piece by piece.
why is this so beautiful
"I love the way you look at me," he continued, his hands slipping under your shirt, his shirt, caressing the bare skin beneath. "Like I'm the only person in the world. Like I matter."
ohmygod 🙈 i feel like i am interrupting something
"You do matter," you whispered, your voice breaking. “You matter to me.”
BABIES ALL OF THEM !!!!!!!!!!!
Rafe's hands found your hips, his touch firm and reassuring. "I love you," he said again,  "And I need you to know that. Shit, I need you to feel it."
put it in already 🙄 (kidding i love this)
"My perfect girl," he growled against your lips.
ur making me blush
“Fuck, yes,” he whimpered, his grip on your hips tightening. “You feel amazing.”
RAFE WHIMPERING I WONNN
"I can't believe you're real."
i swear to god if this turns out to be a dream i’m booking the next flight to ur city n murdering u in ur sleep (real)
final thoughts — this is so tender and sweet, i love this. i think i can offer no true words to have much i appreciate this series (also because i used it all up in the last review) but yes, like i said. compliments to the chefs for her dialogue and beautiful imagery. additionally, i wanna let u know that u give me so much inspiration. whenever i finish one of ur work, i'm like "i gotta get my ass up and work" because i always feel so motivated to write whenever i read ur stuff. <3 truly, t💘💘hank u for everything, i'm so excited (and sad... and horny...?) to see them come to a delightful end next part
THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18) - six
request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛"
WARNINGS: domestic violence; blood; injuries; angst; smut;
word count: 7.6k
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
You saw it on the news before Sarah told you.
Ward was officially in police custody.
They were calling it the biggest crime operation in years, plastering his face on every corner of every newspaper in the country. You saw it first on your busted-up TV, the morning news anchor's serious tone making the gravity of the situation clear before Sarah had a chance to call.
He was stopped.
The man who caused so much pain and chaos to everyone you cared about was finally behind bars.
But your relief came with a bit of caution.
This was just the beginning. There was still a trial to face, and you knew how slippery Ward could be. He had enough money to buy whoever he wanted, and the justice system wasn’t always as just as you hoped. Trials could take months, even years before he was sentenced.
JJ cheered in the background, almost face-planting the ground as he struggled to get off his chair and call Pope. You hadn’t seen him this ecstatic in years, the hallways of your home echoing with “let’s fucking go, baby!” as he made his way upstairs.
You were content.
Was there really anything to be happy about?
Sure, a bad guy was getting what he deserved, but the destruction he left behind was still very much there.
Months ago, when the police contacted you again, you had refused to testify. What Ward did to you was terrifying, but what he did to Sarah, John B, and Rafe? They were the true witnesses to his evil. You barely got a taste of his wrath. You were lucky. You wanted to be there, of course. Every person Ward hurt deserved all the support they could get. But watching Rafe Cameron—the boy who had idolized his father for years, now a man—sit in a chair facing countless cameras and strangers for hours as he recounted his life under Ward's control? That was a different kind of heartache.
Rafe.
You hadn’t seen him since that day he dropped by, and it felt like he vanished into thin air. You didn’t see him around town, not at the beach, and he never stopped by your job. You started wondering if he’d been cooped up in that awful house all this time.
You couldn’t shake this feeling of worry, knowing he was stuck in the shadow of his dad’s mess.
Did he feel abandoned by you?
The thought of him, alone in that house, haunted you. You knew you should’ve reached out, found him as the town buzzed with the details of Ward’s arrest. More stories came out, each more horrifying than the last.
You almost gave in.
One evening, you found yourself riding past the Cameron estate, its looming structure a dark silhouette against the fading light. You almost went in, stopping by the gigantic gate, but then you saw movement inside and sped away on your bike.
You couldn’t do it. 
The barriers between you two seemed insurmountable.
As you walked home from your shift as a lifeguard at the beach, the sun setting behind you cast long shadows on the sand. The rhythmic crashing of the waves had always been your favorite soundtrack. You’ve spent most of your life inside the water, it was in your nature. 
Growing up, surf and swimming were your outlets to get away from your violent father and deadbeat mother. The ocean was your sanctuary, a place where you could forget the shouting matches, the broken furniture, and the empty bottles scattered around the house. When you were out there riding the waves or just floating on your back, everything else melted away. The water had a way of washing off the grime of your home life, even if just temporarily.
Unfortunately, once you set your feet on the sand and walked home, that feeling always vanished.
Tonight, as you made your way home, the familiar dread began to creep in. Both your parents were long gone, but the sense of dread would never leave you, always attached to that stupid house.
Even though the yelling had stopped, and the bottles were gone, the walls seemed to hold on to the echoes of your past. The creaky floorboards, the dim lighting, the chipped paint—You hated it.
You had considered moving out many times, but something always held you back. JJ. Money.
When you got there, the air felt unusually still.
JJ’s truck wasn’t parked in its usual spot, which was strange, but not entirely unheard of. What really unsettled you were the closed windows. You always left them open to let the ocean breeze in, but now they were all shut tight.
You called out your brother’s name, hoping to hear his usual welcoming shout, but there was only silence. You shrugged it off, thinking he was probably out on the boat or lost in his video games.
You dropped your bag by the door and walked further inside.
"JJ?" You called again.
As you stepped into the living room, the sight of your father, Luke, froze you in place. 
He seemed worse than you remembered—disheveled, eyes bloodshot, and reeking of alcohol.
Luke had been gone for a year, no contact, nothing. But the memories of his drunken rages and the bruises he left behind were still fresh. He was supposed to be miles away. JJ made sure of that, paying him off and helping him get off the island.
Seeing him was the last thing you were expecting.
"You shouldn’t be here,” You warned him, trying to mask the fear rising in your chest.
He laughed, a hollow, chilling sound. "I’m just here to see my kids. Is that so wrong?”
Liar.
You knew better than to trust him. “You need to leave. Now.”
His expression darkened, the smirk fading. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
“Watch me. Out.”
He took a step back, raising his hands in mock surrender, “I just need a little loan.”
You tightened your grip on the edge of the doorframe, “No. You need to go, for good.”
His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you thought he might listen. But then he took a step closer, and you could smell the stale alcohol on his breath.
“I’m not leaving without what I came for.”
“I don’t care,” You snapped, no longer the scared girl he was used to, “Get your ass out of my house before I call the cops.”
“This is my house!” He all but screamed, the veins in his neck visible.
“Not anymore,” Your heart pounded in your chest, and every fiber of your being screamed for JJ, wishing he was here, “I’m not afraid of you,” you said, more to convince yourself than him.
He took another step forward, his face twisted in anger. “You always were a stubborn little brat.”
“And you’re a piece of shit.”
He lunged. 
You barely dodged his grasp, stumbling back into the living room.
“Stay away from me!” you shouted, desperately looking for something to defend yourself with. 
Luke laughed, a dark, hollow sound, and came at you again. This time, he grabbed your arm, his grip painfully tight. You barely had time to react, instinctively raising your arms to block his advance. 
“You little bitch,” he snarled, pushing you against the wall. The impact knocked the breath out of you, but you fought to stay focused. You couldn’t let him win, not again.
“You’re going to give me what I want,” he hissed, his breath hot and foul on your face.
“No, I’m not,” you spat back, summoning every ounce of courage you had.
With your free hand, you grabbed a nearby lamp and swung it at him. The base connected with his head, and he stumbled back, cursing.
“Bitch!” he roared, holding his head. Blood trickled down the side of his face, but the sight only seemed to enrage him further.
He charged at you, knocking the lamp from your hands and pinning you to the floor.
You were panicking, resorting to kicking and thrashing, trying to throw him off. “Get off me!” you screamed, clawing at his face.
He slapped you hard, the force of the blow making your vision blur. “You think you can fight me?” he snarled, his hands wrapping around your throat.
Gasping for air, you felt the desperation claw its way out. You’d been here too many times. Your hand groped blindly on the floor, finding a heavy candlestick. Your mom’s candlestick. With the last of your strength, you brought it down on his head.
Luke’s grip loosened, and he slumped to the side, groaning. You scrambled to your feet, your breath coming in ragged gasps.
He tried to get up, but you struck him again, this time with all your strength. The candlestick connected with a sickening thud, and your father collapsed, blood pooling around his head.
You stood over him, panting, the weight of what you’d done sinking in.
But then, with a guttural growl, he stirred and reached for your ankle. You staggered back, your heart hammering. 
“Stay down goddamit!” you shouted, raising the candlestick again.
He pushed himself up, eyes wild with rage. “You’re gonna pay for that,” he spat, lunging once more.
This time, you were ready.
As he reached for you, you twisted to the side, bringing your knee up sharply into his stomach. He grunted in pain, doubling over, and you seized the opportunity to land a sharp elbow to his nose. The crack was satisfying, but brief; he roared and grabbed at you blindly.
You ducked under his arm, grabbing a chair and shoving it between you. Luke, half-blind with fury, kicked the chair aside, but it gave you enough time to reach the kitchen. You grabbed the first thing you could find—a cast-iron skillet.
He stumbled into the kitchen after you, a trickle of blood from his nose mingling with the sweat and grime on his face.
“You just had to put up a fight, huh? Just like her.” he snarled.
“Stay back,” you warned, brandishing the skillet, “I’ll fucking do it.”
Luke laughed, a deranged sound, and lunged. You swung the skillet with all your might. It connected with his shoulder, the impact reverberating up your arm. He staggered, and you swung again, aiming for his head. The skillet hit with his temple, the sound echoing through the room and he collapsed, finally unmoving.
Oh fuck.
For a moment, the house was deathly silent.
You dropped the skillet, your hands trembling.
Kneeling down, you checked for a pulse. It was faint, but there. Relief and horror flooded through you simultaneously.  You almost killed him. There was so much blood. It stained the old carpet, the candlestick, your hands.
You backed away, your mind racing. 
What if he died? What if you’d killed him? Oh god, oh god. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You just wanted him gone, out of your life for good.
With trembling fingers, you picked up your phone, the weight of what had just happened settling heavily on your shoulders. Your heart raced with adrenaline and fear, each breath feeling labored as you scrolled through your contacts. You needed help, someone who could make sense of the chaos now consuming your life.
The screen lit up with familiar names, but your vision was blurred with tears.
Without fully realizing it, your finger landed on a contact you hadn’t called ever before. The phone rang, and you kept an eye on Luke, praying he wouldn’t move. It rang for only ten seconds, but it felt like an eternity.
“Maybank?”
“Rafe?” You gasped out, your voice breaking as you clutched the phone to your ear.
There was a brief pause, and then his voice came through, “Hey, hey. What's wrong? Are you okay?”
But you couldn't speak.
Hearing his voice after all this time, after everything that had happened, it was too much.
The fear, the relief, the chaos, all of it came crashing down, and your breath hitched.
You couldn’t think.
“Hey! Are you there? Talk to me!” Rafe's voice grew more urgent.
You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat, a sob escaping instead. Your knees gave out, and you sank to the floor, the phone slipping slightly in your grasp. The room felt like it was closing in on you, the walls pressing down, the silence deafening except for your labored breathing.
“Where are you?!”
You focused on his words, trying to match your breath to his timbre.
In. Out. In. Out.
It helped, if only a little. The shaking in your hands lessened, but the fear never eased.
“I think... I think I killed my dad.”
You looked at the bloodstained carpet, the unconscious body of your father still lying there, and the horror of it all washed over you again. 
“Are you home? Are you safe?”
You glanced around the living room, the familiar space now a scene of violence.
“I’m home. JJ isn’t here. I-I don’t know where he is.”
“I’m coming,” Rafe said firmly. “Stay there. Don’t touch anything. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Rafe—” You began, but he cut you off.
“I’ll be there soon. Just hang on, okay?”
The minutes ticked by, and you found yourself staring at the door, willing Rafe to appear.
What were you going to do? How were you going to live with yourself if Luke died? This wasn’t you.
You didn’t hurt people. You just wanted a little bit of peace in your life, some quiet. Why did things never work out the way you wanted them to?
Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, you heard the sound of a car pulling up outside. Moments later, the door burst open, and there he was.
“Maybank?”
He called out for you as he stepped inside.
Seconds later, he was standing in front of you, scanning the room, analyzing the scene before him. He rushed to your side, pulling you into his arms without hesitation. 
“It’s okay. I’m here. You’re gonna be okay.”
He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple as he guided you away from the scene, his eyes lingering briefly on your father’s motionless figure.
“What happened?” He asked softly, leading you to sit on the couch. 
“He just showed up out of nowhere. He wanted money. I told him to leave, but he wouldn’t. He got violent, and I... “
“It’s okay.”
His warmth helped.
But you still felt the overwhelming weight guilt eating you alive. The blood on your hands—it all felt surreal, like a nightmare you couldn't wake up from.
“Have you called 911?”
You shook your head, lips trembling as you tried not to cry.
“Do you want me to?”
The thought of police cars and paramedics filling the house, made your stomach churn. The fear of what might happen if Luke woke up, or if he didn't, paralyzed you. It took you a second to realize he already had his phone out, pressed to his ear.
"I need an ambulance.”
He stayed on the line with the dispatcher, giving them your address and the details. Your ears were ringing, unable to make out exactly what he was saying. 
"They're on their way," he reassured softly. "It’s gonna be okay."
You nodded weakly, grappling with the aftermath. Rafe stayed close, seated next to you.
"They'll take him to the hospital," He murmured, more to himself than anyone else. "He'll get the help he needs."
"I... I didn't mean to..." you finally managed to whisper, your voice trembling.
Rafe’s hands griped your own, despite the blood coating it, "I know.”
The minutes felt like hours as you waited for the ambulance. You just wanted it to be over.
When the paramedics finally arrived, Rafe guided them to Luke's unconscious form while you sat numbly on the couch. They immediately went to work, assessing his condition and preparing him for transport. Police officers soon followed, asking questions, and taking statements. Rafe handled most of the interaction, shielding you from the brunt of their inquiries. You watched in stunned silence as they worked.
He stayed close by, offering quiet reassurances and answering the paramedics’ questions.
After what felt like an eternity, they finally moved Luke onto a stretcher and carried him out of the house. Rafe followed them to the door, speaking briefly with one of the paramedics before they loaded Luke into the ambulance and drove away.
He kneeled in front of you, “You can’t say here, okay? They called JJ, he’s on the mainland, but he’ll take the first ferry down here tomorrow.”
You nodded weakly, your body feeling as if it had been drained of all energy.
"Come on," Rafe urged, helping you to your feet. "Let's get you out of here."
He guided you out of the house and into his truck, the engine already running. The drive was quiet, the only sound being the hum of the engine and the occasional sniffle from you.
Rafe reached over, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. You slumped back in the plush seat, eyes closed, trying to steady your breathing, too embarrassed to look at him.
“I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for.”
You didn't even register where you were headed until the truck pulled to a stop. When you finally opened your eyes, you realized you were at Rafe’s place.
Tanneyhill.
It felt odd, being there after so long, and under such circumstances. He helped you out of the truck, guiding you inside with a protective arm around your shoulders. 
"Sit down," he said gently, leading you to the living room. "I'll get you some water."
You sank into the expensive couch, feeling the soft cushions envelop you. It was weird sitting in Rafe’s home after everything that had happened.
He returned quickly with a glass of water, pressing it into your trembling hands.
"Drink," he instructed, sitting beside you.
You took a small sip, the cool water soothing your dry throat. Rafe watched you closely, concern etched across his features.
"You need to rest," he said. "I’ll be right here."
"But I—"
"You need to rest," he repeated firmly, but not unkindly. "We can talk more in the morning.”
There was a part of you that wanted to argue, to insist that you were fine, that you didn’t need his help. You’d done this for years, alone.
And yet, here he was, offering you help. Maybe it was the exhaustion, maybe you just missed him, but for once in your life, you didn’t fight him. 
You nodded, letting him take you upstairs.
"Let's get you cleaned up," he said, noticing the blood still on your skin and clothes. "You can’t go to bed like this."
At this point, you were too tired to speak, simply following his instructions as he led you inside, guiding you to the bathroom.
"Here," he said, turning on the shower and adjusting the temperature. "Take your time. I'll leave some clean clothes for you right outside the door."
You nodded gratefully, stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind you.
The sound of the water running was comforting, a small sense of normalcy. You stripped off your clothes, your hands trembling slightly as you pulled your shorts off.
The sight of the dried blood on your hands and shirt made you want to burst into tears, again.
Stepping into the shower, you let the warm water cascade over you, washing away the grime and blood. The heat soothed your tense muscles, and you stood there for a long time, eyes closed, letting the water work its magic. 
Slowly, you began to wash yourself, scrubbing away the remnants of your father’s presence. The soap smelled of lavender, and somehow you found yourself smiling for a second, realizing this was Rafe’s scent earlier. You washed your hair, the routine bringing you back to the present. As the water rinsed off, clarity slowly returned. You were still scared shitless, but that shower gave you a moment of peace. Stepping out, you wrapped yourself in a fluffy towel and took a deep breath.
Rafe had left a pair of sweatpants, boxers and a t-shirt outside the door, just as he said he would.
You dried off and changed into them, feeling a bit more like yourself. They were a little big, but they were warm and comfortable.
They were Rafe’s. 
You opened the bathroom door to find him waiting in the hallway. He seemed relieved to see you and you hated yourself for making him worry so bad.
"Feeling better?" 
"A little," you admitted. "Thank you."
He nodded. "Come on, let's get you to bed."
He led you to what you assumed was a guest room, the bed already made up with fresh sheets. 
"Sit here," Rafe said, motioning to the edge of the bed. He disappeared for a moment, returning with a first-aid kit. He kneeled in front of you again, this time with a different purpose. "Lemme see your hands."
You hesitated, then slowly extended them. They were scratched and bruised, remnants of how fucked up your father was.
Rafe’s touch was gentle as he cleaned the wounds, using antiseptic wipes to carefully remove the blood that you hadn’t been able to get rid of in the shower. 
“This might sting a bit,” he murmured, his voice soothing despite the warning.
It made you wince, but you bit your lip, staying silent.
"I’m sorry," he said, noticing your discomfort.
"’M used to it. It’s okay,” You nodded, biting your lip as he cleaned the wound. 
The antiseptic burned, but you focused on Rafe’s face, the way his brow furrowed in concentration, the softness in his eyes as he wrapped your hand with practiced care. 
“I didn’t want to drag you into my mess.”
Rafe paused, his hands stilling for a moment.
“You’re not a mess.”
Your chuckle was short and stifled, “Right.”
His fingers continued their work, securing the bandage with gentle precision. “I mean it.”
You swallowed hard, the weight of his words pressing against the barrier you'd built around your heart. “Why—Why did you pick up the phone?”
“You know why.”
Rafe’s tone was final, leaving no room for conversation as he finished wrapping your hand and set it gently in your lap.
“There,” he said, “All done.”
You sank into the mattress as he pulled the blankets over you.
He was tucking you to bed, so…lovely, so not like the Rafe you met years ago. It made your heart hurt. No one had ever cleaned your wounds. 
“C-Can you stay here?”
Rafe paused, turning from where he was adjusting the pillows, "I don’t think—”
“Please.”
Without a word, he slipped off his shoes, climbing into bed beside you. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. The warmth of his body against yours, his steady heartbeat, the scent of lavender and something uniquely Rafe—it all made you feel safer than you had in a long time.
"It's okay. I'm here. You're safe."
You buried your face in his chest, feeling the tears start to flow again, but this time they were tears of release, of letting go. Rafe held you tighter, his hands gently rubbing your back, his touch tender.
He didn't say anything more, just held you. As the minutes passed, your breathing gradually slowed, matching the rhythm of his. The tension in your body began to melt away, your eyes grew heavy. 
"Thank you," Your voice was muffled against his chest. "For everything."
Rafe pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head.
"Sleep.”
You snuggled closer, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek, finally feeling at home.
You woke up the next morning to an empty bed, the warmth of Rafe’s embrace replaced by the cold reality of the previous night’s events. The room was dimly lit, the morning sun casting soft rays through the curtains. You sat up, your mind hazy with sleep, and glanced around, your heart sinking as you realized Rafe was nowhere to be seen.
For a moment, you wondered if it had all been a dream, but the dried blood on your clothes, lying by the floor and the faint echo of fear told you otherwise. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself as you swung your legs over the side of the bed. 
Your father, the struggle, the blood—Rafe’s comforting presence.
You felt an immense amount of guilt as you remembered how you had leaned on him for support after you cut him out of your life.
He was already dealing with so much because of his own father, and now you had burdened him with your problems.
You rose from the bed, the oversized sweatpants and t-shirt Rafe had given you hanging loosely on your frame. You made your way to the door, listening for any sounds that might indicate where he had gone. As you walked down the hallway, you heard a faint voice coming from the kitchen. Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized Rafe’s voice, speaking in low, urgent tones.
You hesitated for a moment, your curiosity getting the better of you. Slowly, you made your way towards the kitchen, the sound of Rafe’s voice growing clearer with each step.
“…I don’t care what it fucking takes,” Rafe all but spat, his tone filled with determination. “Yeah, I know the charges will stick. Just make sure he doesn’t get out on bail. I don’t want him anywhere near her again.”
He paused, listening intently. You took a step closer, peering around the corner to see him standing by the kitchen counter, his phone pressed to his ear. The intensity in his eyes was unlike anything you’d seen before.
“No, she’s fine,” he continued, “But I want to make sure she stays that way.”
You stopped in your tracks, your breath catching in your throat. Rafe was talking about your father, and the realization hit you in the face.
He was trying to protect you, even now.
“Rafe…” 
Rafe turned around, his eyes widening as he saw you standing there.
“I’ll call you later." He quickly ended the call, slipping his phone into his pocket as he approached you, “Hey, you’re awake,” he said, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.
“What were you doing?” you asked, “Who were you talking to?”
“Hmm?”
“Rafe,” You warn, too tired to play games, “Who were you talking to?”
He sighed, looking impossibly uncomfortable as you sized him up, “My lawyer. Getting a restraining order for you.”
The confirmation nearly made your brain split into two.
“What?”
Rafe hesitated, knowing he couldn't hide the truth from you. Not that he even tried lately. He ran a hand through his buzzed hair, a gesture you recognized as a sign of his unease. 
"I'm trying to get a restraining order against your father."
"Why?"
His eyes bore into yours, a silent plea for you to understand, “Because you need one.”
Rafe was going to bat for you, putting himself in the line of fire to protect you from the man who had haunted your life for so long. Tears welled up in your eyes as the enormity of his actions sank in.
“I’m sorry.”
He ran a hand over his face.
“Maybank, what happened last night… it’s not something you should ever have to deal with. I should’ve been here sooner. I should’ve—"
“You couldn’t have known.”
Rafe shook his head, "I should've been here.”
You walked closer, closing the distance between you. "Rafe, you don't owe me anything."
He reached out tentatively, his hand hovering in the air for a moment before he gently cupped your cheek. His touch was familiar, comforting and you leaned into it, closing your eyes briefly.
"I owe you everything," he murmured. 
You let out a shaky breath, “Don’t say that.”
He tilted your face up, forcing you to look into his eyes, his thumb brushing away a stray tear, “You think I’d be there if it wasn’t for you? Shit— Pretty, look around. It’s just me.”
Your heart pounded in your ribcage, the sincerity in his eyes making it hard to breathe.
You had spent so long building walls, convincing yourself that you didn’t need anyone, that you could handle everything on your own.
“You’ve been alone?” You all but sob, “You’ve been here all this time? By yourself?”
Rafe’s jaw tightened, “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry,” His hand on your cheek trembled slightly, the vulnerability in his voice laying his heart bare. “I’m okay, see?”
You reached up, covering his hand with yours, “I was so angry at you.”
“Baby—”
“You don’t understand,” you explained, voice cracking slightly, “I just... I didn’t know what to do.”
He drew you closer, his other arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you against him. You melted into him instantly. 
"I deserved it,” Rafe muttered, his breath warm against your ear.
You shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks.
"You told me you were getting clean, that you were seeing a psychologist, and I-I wasn’t there.”
Rafe’s grip on your hand tightened, his eyes pleading with you to understand. “I was a train wreck, and I hurt you. You needed to protect yourself.”
“But I should’ve been there for you,” you insisted, your voice breaking. “You were trying to get better, and I just... walked away.”
“Jesus Christ Maybank” He tried to laugh, but it sounded more like a groan, “Stop the waterfloods, you’re gonna make me cry.”
“Shut up,” You let out a genuine laugh, despite the ugly crying, “’M trying to apologize—“
“You don’t have to, baby,” He cut you off, shaking his head, “Not to me, or anyone else.”
His breath mingled with yours, his presence soothing you in a way you hadn’t felt in months.
Your heart pounded in your chest as he closed the distance, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, hesitant kiss. It was as if he was testing the waters, ensuring you were okay with this, and when you didn’t pull away, the kiss deepened. His hand moved to the back of your neck, holding you gently but firmly as his lips explored yours.
You felt yourself give in to him, your hands gripping his shirt to make sure it was real.
You’d dreamed about him for too damn long to understand the difference. The kiss was slow, deliberate…loving. Each touch, each movement, was a reassurance, a silent promise that he was here, that he wouldn’t let go. 
As you broke apart, gasping for air, lips swollen and shining, Rafe rested his forehead against yours again, his breathing ragged.
“Can’t believe you made me fall in love with a pogue.”
Oh.
You blinked, caught off guard.
“In love?”
Rafe bit his lower lip, “Yeah.”
You could see the anxiety roaring inside him. The way his shoulders seemed to squeeze back in, eyes dropping to your lips. 
"I never thought I'd fall for a kook," you teased gently, brushing your fingers lightly against his cheek.
“Don’t play with me,” He huffed, dropping his head against your shoulder, teeth grazing against your skin, “Fucking hell.”
You tilted his chin up gently, meeting his gaze with sincerity, “I mean it, Cameron.”
His eyes examined yours for a long moment as if confirming your words. Then, without a word, he closed the distance between you once more. This time, there was no hesitation, no uncertainty.
His hands roamed over your body, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t get enough. The kiss was so different from the one before. You could feel the heat building between you, that undeniable chemistry pulling you together.
His hands slipped under your shirt, his shirt, the touch of his fingertips on your bare skin sending shivers down your spine. Rafe’s lips trailed down your neck, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin there, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You gasped, tilting your head to give him better access. His hands were everywhere, exploring, caressing, making you dizzy with want.
“I need you,” your voice's breathless, fingers clutching at his shoulders.
He paused, lifting his head to look at you, blue eyes darken with desire.
“You’re hurt,” he gulped, “Last night—”
“I don’t care,” you replied, shaking your head. “You fucked me after I got shot.”
"That night was different. We were different."
You nodded, the memory of that night vivid in your mind. The urgency, the desperation, the way you had clung to each other as if you were drowning.
He hesitated for a moment longer, his thumb brushing over the bruise on your cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t,” you promised, pulling him back to you. “I trust you.”
That seemed to be all the encouragement he needed. His restrain visibly slipped away as his lips found yours again as he lifted you effortlessly, carrying you upstairs, to bed and then laying you down gently as if you were the most precious thing in the world.
Rafe hovered over you, his eyes never leaving yours as he stripped off his shirt. You reached up, tracing the lines of his muscles, marveling at the way they moved under your touch. He leaned down, capturing your lips in another searing kiss, his hands working on the buttons of your shirt.
The clothes disappeared in a blur, and then it was just the two of you, skin against skin, only underwear. His hands and lips were everywhere.
“Y’know how much I missed you?”
You sighed, a smile playing at your lips as you cupped his face, “Tell me.”
Rafe’s breath hitched, his eyes locked onto yours, filled with a mixture of tenderness and desperation.
“Every damn day. Every fucking minute. I’d close my eyes and all I could see was you.”
His voice trailed off, but his hands spoke for him, tracing patterns along your sides, sending shivers through you. His touch was reverent as if he was rediscovering you, piece by piece.
You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer, your bodies aligning perfectly. 
“I’m here now.”
Rafe’s lips curved into a smile against your skin, his hands sliding down to grip your hips, holding you steady. “You sure you’re okay?” 
You nodded, pressing a kiss to his jaw, “More than okay. I want this. I want you.”
He kissed his way down your neck, his lips leaving a trail of heat as they moved lower.
“I love the way you laugh," he purred against your skin, his lips trailing down your collarbone. "The way your eyes light up when you talk about something you care about. How strong you are, even when you don't realize it."
You shivered at his words, your heart swelling with love for the man holding you so tenderly. "Rafe..."
He kissed your lips softly, silencing you.
"I love the way you look at me," he continued, his hands slipping under your shirt, his shirt, caressing the bare skin beneath. "Like I'm the only person in the world. Like I matter."
You could feel tears welling up in your eyes, overwhelmed by the intensity of his words, his touch.
"You do matter," you whispered, your voice breaking. “You matter to me.”
Rafe's hands moved lower, teasing the waistband of your, his, boxers.
“I love how brave you are," he said, his voice husky, "How you face everything, even when it's terrifying."
He slid them down slowly, his eyes never leaving your face.
"Last night," he said, his voice trembling slightly. "I was terrified. I thought I was gonna lose you.”
You reached for him, your fingers tangling in his grown-out hair, pulling him closer. "I'm here," your lips brushed against his, "I'm right here."
Rafe's hands found your hips, his touch firm and reassuring. "I love you," he said again,  "And I need you to know that. Shit, I need you to feel it."
You nodded, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I do. I feel it."
He kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth with a desperate urgency. He took his time, worshiping you with every touch, every kiss, making sure you knew exactly how much you meant to him.
His lips found your breasts, kissing and teasing, his hands caressing your sides, your hips. You moaned, arching into his touch, your body trembling with need. "Rafe..."
He looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire, a small smile playing at his lips.
"I love the way you say my name. Like it's the only word that matters."
He kissed his way down your stomach, his hands sliding lower, teasing you, driving you wild with anticipation. "I love the way you taste," he breathed, hot against your skin. "The way you feel."
You gasped, your body arching off the bed as his fingers found you, teasing, exploring. 
"Rafe, please..."
He kissed his way back up your body, his lips finding yours in a searing kiss.
"I've got you. I'm here. Tell me if you want me to stop."
You shook your head, urging him on. "Don't stop.”
He kissed your hip bones, his hands gently spreading your legs wider. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, and the intensity in them made your breath catch. He moved lower, his lips trailing down your inner thigh, his fingers lightly caressing your other leg.
When his mouth finally reached your core, you gasped, your body arching off the bed. His tongue flicked out, teasing you, tasting you.
The sensation was electric, sending jolts of pleasure through you. Fuck you missed this.
Rafe’s grip on your thighs tightened, holding you in place as he continued his slow, deliberate assault.
He explored you with his tongue, each movement precise, intentional. He found a rhythm that made your head spin, alternating between gentle flicks and firm strokes. You moaned, your fingers tightening in his short strands, pulling him closer, needing more.
Rafe responded to your silent plea, his tongue delving deeper, his hands gripping your thighs harder. The pressure built, an overwhelming wave of pleasure that threatened to consume you. He groaned against you, the vibration sending you even higher.
"Oh, Rafe," you gasped, your breath coming in short, desperate bursts. "Don't stop. Please, don't stop."
He didn't.
He increased his pace, his tongue moving faster, his hands sliding under your hips, lifting you slightly to give him better access. You could feel the heat pooling in your core, the pleasure building to an unbearable peak.
Rafe’s mouth never left you, his tongue driving you to the brink. You cried out his name, your body trembling as you teetered on the edge. He sucked gently, his tongue flicking rapidly, and that was all it took. You shattered, not a wave, but an entire ocean of ecstasy crashing over you, your vision going white as the pleasure consumed you.
He continued his ministrations, guiding you through your orgasm, his tongue and lips never slowing, drawing out every last bit of pleasure.
When you finally came down, your body spent and trembling, Rafe kissed his way back up your body, his hands soothing the aftershocks with gentle caresses.
He hovered over you, his lips capturing yours in a deep, passionate kiss. You could taste yourself on him, the intimacy of it making your heart swell.
"My perfect girl," he growled against your lips.
Your bruised hands roamed over his broad shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles as he held himself back. He shifted, pressing his hips against yours, letting you feel his arousal. You moaned into his mouth, your hands moving lower, wanting to touch him, to feel him inside you.
Rafe’s breath hitched as your fingers brushed against the waistband of his boxers, teasing him.
“Are you sure about this?” He asked again. 
He cared so much it nearly sent you into an emotional spiral again.
 “I’ve never been more sure.”
That was all he needed.
In one swift motion, he shed his boxers, and you took in the sight of him, hard and ready. He moved over you, positioning himself between your legs, his eyes never leaving yours. He took his time, teasing you with his fingers, making sure you were ready for him.
You gasped, arching your back as he entered you slowly, his movements deliberate, and controlled.
God, you missed feeling every inch of him. 
He paused, giving you a moment to adjust, his forehead resting against yours. “Fuck, I missed this,” he groaned, his voice strained with restraint.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him to move. “Don’t hold back,” you almost sobbed, your breath hot against his ear. “I want all of you.”
Rafe needed no further encouragement.
He began to move, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm, each thrust deep and controlled. The pleasure built with every movement, the sensation of him filling you completely driving you wild. Your fingers dug into his back, your nails leaving marks as you clung to him, needing the connection.
He kissed you deeply, his tongue mimicking the movements of his hips, the sensation of his lips on yours amplifying the pleasure. His hands roamed over your body, one sliding under your back to pull you closer, the other tangling in your hair, holding you in place as he devoured you. You matched his rhythm, you bodies moving together in perfect harmony. Rafe’s pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more urgent, his control slipping.
His words, the sound of his voice, sent shivers down your spine.
“Don't stop, baby- Oh, fuckkk. Please, d-don't stop."
"I won't," he promised, his voice a low growl. “Never stopping."
With those words, he lost the last of his restraint, his thrusts becoming harder, faster, driving you both toward the edge. The room filled with the sounds of your passion, the slap of skin against skin that made you absolute feral for him, the desperate moans and gasps of pleasure.
You didn’t understand the sudden urge, but before you could think about it, you were pushing against Rafe’s chest.
“Your turn,” you murmured, flipping him onto his back with ease and straddling him. 
He looked up at you slightly startled, hands resting on your plush hips as you settled over him and you swore he never looked prettier.
“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, his hands sliding up your sides, over your tits, cupping them gently. “Every part of you.”
You leaned down, his stubble grazing your skin, burning you most deliciously. You feel him rubbing against you, his tip touching your clit just right and you couldn’t help the satisfied moan that escaped your lips. You broke the kiss, sitting up and grinding your hips against his, feeling the heat building between you again.
“You like that?” you teased, your voice low and sultry, your fingers trailing down his chest.
“Fuck, yes,” he whimpered, his grip on your hips tightening. “You feel amazing.”
You reached between you, guiding him to your entrance. The sensation of him sliding back inside you was electric, drawing a gasp from both of you. You started to move, slow at first, savoring the feeling of him filling you completely.
Rafe’s hands roamed over your body, caressing, teasing, driving you wild. “God, you’re perfect,” he murmured, his eyes locked onto yours. “Ride me, baby. I want to see you come again.”
His words sent a shiver down your spine, spurring you on. You increased your pace, rolling your hips, finding the angle that drove you both to the edge. Your hands braced against his chest, your nails digging into his skin as you rode him harder, faster.
“Fuck, Rafe,” you gasped, your breath coming in short, desperate bursts. “You feel so good inside me.”
He groaned, “You can’t be real,” his hands guided your hips, urging you to move faster. “This can’t be real—Shit, keep doing that.”
The pleasure built with every movement, your bodies moving together like they never parted.
You could feel the heat pooling in your core, the tension building, ready to snap. Rafe’s hands slid up to your breasts, teasing your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through you.
“Come for me, baby,” Rafe urged, his voice rough with desire. “I want to feel you come around me.”
His words pushed you over the edge. You cried out, your body arching, your vision going white as the orgasm crashed over you. Rafe groaned, his hips thrusting up to meet yours as he followed you into ecstasy, his release filling you, pretty hisses and groans filling your ears.
You collapsed against him, both of you breathless, spent, and completely satisfied. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, his lips brushing against your ear.
You buried your face in his neck, overwhelmed by how loved you felt. You’d never felt anything like this before. His heartbeat echoed against your chest.
As you started to shift to look at him, you noticed he was staring at you with an expression that caught you off guard. His eyes were wide, intense and unwavering, almost as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
"What?" you asked softly, a smile tugging at your lips despite the slight confusion.
Rafe blinked, as if snapping out of a trance. His hand reached up to gently trace your cheekbone.
"I can't believe you're real."
"Rafe..." 
He silenced you with a gentle kiss, his lips brushing against yours in a tender caress. "I love you, Pretty Maybank."
"I love you too.”
647 notes · View notes
kvetchlandia · 3 days ago
Text
OK...
I'm more or less back. I can't say I've recovered from the shock of the hell the people of the United States have inflicted upon themselves and and upon the rest of the world. I mean, who recovers from the knowledge that people actually chose to put themselves under the governance of a bloated pig who promises to use the military to go after his political rivals (including, for fuck sake, Liz Cheney, an arch conservative); who's been responsible for the removal of women's legal right to control their own bodies, already resulting in completely preventable deaths; who in no uncertain terms has made public his desire to be a dictator; who is a man that has been convicted of multiple felonies and has been found civilly liable for sexually assaulting one woman and who bragged on television, in a tape seen by virtually everyone on the planet, of assaulting others; and on and on and on. I could detail so much more about the planned assaults on civil liberties, on civil society and on the environment by this repugnant shmuck but there's little point to that. All I'll accomplish should I do that is another night of bashing my head against the wall or of sticking my head in the electric oven and yet again singeing my poor eyebrows. So, I guess I'll return to my lame posts. They're a way of killing a bit of time and some of you guys even occasionally like the crap I put up on my page, which always thrills me and for which I'm eternally grateful.
I'm ancient by Bumblr standards. I am what's known in the jargon as a "red diaper baby," the child of parents who had been in the Communist Party. Because of this, I've been going to demonstrations quite literally since before I was born. I've continued the family tradition of being politically active and over many years have taken part in more demos than I care to count. All I can say is that, come the inauguration of this monster in January, quite possibly the last inauguration of a president in this country, if Trump is to be believed, I'll be back in the streets once again, wearing my red union tee shirt and carrying one sign or another. We have the capacity to make the streets ours and to use that power to change things for the better. Will we develop the leadership and the organization necessary to accomplish that? I don't want to be pessimistic (or honest, as the case may be), so I'll just say, that remains to be seen. Meanwhile, back to silliness.
48 notes · View notes
andorshitdaily · 1 year ago
Text
Happy September 21, freaks
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Shoutout to my good work friend (whom you already know for renaming all the characters) for this incredible image!
How's everybody celebrating? Let me know!!
938 notes · View notes
hopeinthebox · 5 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
bts + reductress headlines pt.14
3K notes · View notes
th3-c0ll3ct3r · 20 hours ago
Text
No because the way the absolutely hated Scott but then when, Scott got off Twitter and Reddit suddenly we started hitting all this negativity to Pearlescentmoon and Goodtimeswithscar
I genuinely believe these people are hating the Life series for the sake of hating and it is so stupid
Like how are people trying to say that Scott is toxic when in reality every single person wants got to be their best friend??? When Tubbo needs help he goes to Philza or he goes to Scott, calling him gay dad
When Ren wanted to get rats SMP he told Scott, when he wanted to be in Empires who did he originally tell??
He is so down to earth with its funds and he keeps it real he doesn't sugarcoat anything he treats you like your equals. I have a post discussing about why sapnap had to be in that MCC, and I don't think he should have apologized for that because legally he couldn't say no to him. If they fell out an application and he's already been accepted you cannot reject him without preparable cars are basis, it's discrimination. And at the time, being a bitch online didn't count count as a justifiable reason and we all know that he's only exclusively after money. And we know the speakers he signed to kick.com at its worst because he was allowed to talk to the CEO and they paid him a total of 63 million over the course of about a year not including stream profits
If Scott would have kicked him out of MCC it would have been discrimination against someone's form of work. And that's why he wasn't kicked off and that's why it's got her to be like "well if you don't like it don't watch it"
The whole statement is true you're not obligated to watching specifically and he's literally telling you within the context of the situation that he couldn't do anything about it. And you know what? You didn't see him after that.
*slaps keys on desk* Scott helped find mods for the life series server
He's sosososososo real for that
And now suddenly because they can't get to him, it's "Pearl and Gem are ruining the life series! By being bestie! Oh woe is me"
Or "Yeah let's force Scar and Grian to" team" then get made when they stay teamed"
Bitch I will respectfully put mayonnaise in your socks
“Scott likes to be in control” babe they all want to be in control. That’s not manipulative behavior. That. That is very normal, to want to be in control of your surroundings during a death game. I’d be more worried about someone who didn’t want to be in control, cause that’s psycho behavior.
Bdubs, Etho, and Tango fight over control of the team every episode. Grian is clearly in control of the Sub Ones. Skizz was extremely in control of TIES in Limited Life and of BEST in Last Life to the point where he has talked about having to reel it in.
Wanting control, whether that manifests as disliking unpredictable components or as giving his life to his allies, is very normal. The former is literally one of the most common reasons why women choose the bear, because a strange man is unpredictable but they know exactly what the bear is going to do, if anything at all. Scott gives his lives to his allies or as a trade, because then he knows where they’re going or what they’re worth. To him, a life of his that isn’t given is a life wasted. He sees his vitality as a resource. This is NOT normal behavior. This is the behavior of someone with very little self-value (now we’re leaning more into character Scott. Cc!Scott is obviously just making competitive decisions) and who recalls being lonely and abandoned.
Stop treating Scott like he’s any worse than anyone else. They are all participating in normal competitive behavior. Except whatever the hell BigB is doing. Why is he so cryptic.
217 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
ryllen · 4 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
something i promised on my kofi 6 months ago... 🫠
275 notes · View notes
waveoftheocean · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
06.10.23 happy birthday iwa-chan!! sorry for inflicting paperwork on you for your bday but at least you have oikawa to help (coughdistractcough) you 🥰
1K notes · View notes
aprillikesthings · 2 days ago
Text
OKAY BUT ALSO and I know I'm thinking about this bc I watched Save the Cat again last night
BUT
I can't get over all of this from Catra's POV because, again, it's been a whole year since she's even seen/spoken to Adora, she's been spending the whole time trying to defeat the Rebellion and working so hard she's losing it from not sleeping enough--only for it all to crumble to nothing, for Double Trouble to show up and rub it in, and then Glimmer shows up and Catra's just like. "fuck it, kill me."
she really does think nobody gives a shit whether she lives or dies*, and sending Glimmer away is meant to be a "well Prime's probably going to kill me anyway lol might as well at least save Adora (and Glimmer). and apologize to her while I'm at it"
BUT NOPE
fuck
so she apologizes to Adora, assumes she's gonna be killed, and instead is tortured and chipped. And depending on how you interpret Don't Go, is forced to hallucinate Adora rescuing her multiple times.
but Adora DOES show up, and Catra fights off the chip just long enough to tell Adora she wants to go home--before Prime pitches her off the platform to her near-death, and ffs I have to headcanon she was unconscious immediately D:
And the next time she's conscious, AT ALL, Adora is holding her.
Even in the Portal most of their affection was play-fighting and shoving each other.
Two years of trying so hard to prove (to herself, to Adora) that she doesn't need Adora, one day of the Portal forcing her to remember she misses Adora before it all falls to pieces, another year of attempting to destroy everything Adora loves** while avoiding even seeing her/speaking to her--and then ONE APOLOGY and act of self-sacrifice
and Adora shows up, promises to take her home, and Catra wakes up in Adora's arms as Adora hugs her and cries in relief.
AAAAHHHHH FUCK
(*she's like "all I do is hurt people, there's nobody in the universe who cares about me," dude Glimmer clearly doesn't hate your guts anymore lol there's at least ONE person, but eh, we know she struggles with this shit, like, believing anyone might care about her is half her arc in s5 and she backslides repeatedly until the literal last episode) (**including herself, not that she believed that at the time)
okay I know I've talked about it....multiple times...on other posts, but the timeline of Adora and Catra's interactions from s3 to s5 fucking kills me because like
so the portal happens, they're REALLY affectionate in that fake reality, then it falls apart and Catra is furious, blaming her for everything while corrupted, and Adora punches her
and I wonder how much they both thought about how flirty they were at first, in the portal reality? that the reason Catra was so furious was Adora forcing her to confront the fact that it's fake--that Catra wanted to stay in that reality longer.
like DO THEY BOTH THINK ABOUT THAT??? do they lie awake at night sometimes and think about it??? (well, past Catra's literal nightmares in which Adora asks her why she pulled the switch)
what is the story they've each told themselves about what happened in the portal reality, when they were so affectionate? "she didn't mean any of it"? cool, YOU still did.
I just imagine both of them thinking "well shit. I thought I'd gotten rid of all those feelings. eh, it was the portal. not me." BZZT. WRONG.
anyway. a few episodes into s4 is the next time they see each other, they don't even fight directly, Catra tries her old taunting-but-flirting thing and Adora refuses to engage.
and that's it.
for like. an entire season of the show. so about a year. A YEAR.
Catra ends up on the ship with Glimmer, they reminisce and we see Catra smiling while talking about Adora.
but the next time they even hear each other's voices is Catra over the comms saying she's sorry. and trying to save Adora's life. ;_;
78 notes · View notes
5ummit · 2 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The Falcon and the Winter Soldier | 1.03 “Power Broker”
2K notes · View notes
quemirabobo · 2 years ago
Text
How it started How it's going
Tumblr media Tumblr media
How we're taking it
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
thecraftyninjacat · 8 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
what year is it
56 notes · View notes
atlasamor · 2 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media
Watched the @lackadaisycats sneak peak and I’m so excited for it. Have Quincy at a film set
1K notes · View notes
dkettchen · 6 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
#meme#homemade memes#cw dysphoria#trans#bones are stupid#cw dysphoria venting#waiting out current phase of transition changes to happen#(cause I got my dose raised again in april & am waiting for my next two surgeries & continuing tryna build muscle 😔)#hoping it'll get to a point eventually where the affirming bits are overpowering enough to ppl's perception#that I can dress the bits I can't change (like hips) in things that suit them#and do the whole embracing looking trans thing without worrying abt the misgendering#but alas I won't believe in my body's ability to do that until I see it#seeing as I still get lady-ed & unquestioningly she/her-ed 5 years into HRT + post two highly visible surgeries#+ fully dressed in men's clothes + sporting the shortest hair I've ever had -.-#cis ppl learn what transmascs look like & what that means for words you use on them challenge 2024- difficulty level: impossible apparently#I've had several ppl in the last few months that I literally TOLD I am trans/'it's he/him'/was clocked as trans by#who then STILL proceeded to misgender me anyway???#like what more can I do than literally straight up tell you????#I told a clinician who was looking at my knee the other month that I was trans (cause they always ask abt all meds n diagnoses)#and he misgendered me as a trans woman on his report like-#sir I am 5'4" and have a flat chest baby face and facial hair#and I was telling you abt how I've been on HRT for years and have had several Transgender Surgeries#you're a bone doctor you know how bones work and what their limitations are and you have functionning eyes#you should be able to put 2 and 2 together abt how this works even if you've never met a trans person holy fuck#(I wrote a complaint and they amended the report and sent me an apology meanwhile but still like- buddy wtf)
58 notes · View notes
oyeixcher · 7 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
San ¦ by 5racha
62 notes · View notes