#idk if this is what u wanted but it’s where I’m at

[charmed-asylum]

Girl u taking words out my hod damn mouth huh girl mmm u and I can do a pod cast w way this chapter went. Side note honey boo boo I know the feeling girl it be hard af you wanna just read your stories but got a 15 page paper due by Monday on some boring ass philosophy topic. ( and my ass planning on going to get my doctrine) 🤧😪🤧😪🤧😪🤧😪🤧😪🤧

Honestly idk who I’m more mad at. The father or Ward. “ No one ever took you seriously anyway” Is Rafe really even the dark one ( on fence but he sure as hell a manipulative perk) if you got both a father who okay you might think your doing the right thing which in all turn for you to be a fuckin cop out and wait til your dead dirt still freshly laid to do this to your legacy to your blood to your daughter or Ward who can’t put any respect to it simple more emotions what if this was Sarah or W who had this happen to you but no no u don’t. I love that while it’s stats: dark!grey!rancher!rafe x bimbo!cowgirl!reader, the reader didn’t seem to bimbo in 1st part.. in all it’s just not the right time for this but damn u make us so invested into this story. Like” Three bedrooms, a wrap-around porch where you’d once dreamed of watching your children play in the yard as you rocked in your chair, and the old, red barn that had weathered time alongside them” so sad because maybe she can have this with Rafe but but it’s not gonna be the same because of a man selfish and lack of respect for a woman or another then themselves it gonna be twist with a sour tastes Ward lit came in busing in like he own it like shit bring a grief counselor or something, You knew you couldn’t lose it, but you weren’t sure how to keep it either. This statement kept repeating its self over and over again. She said it he said I’m sure as hell know dad thought it but is it true sorry but what can Ward or even Rafe know about the land compare to over . ( let me stop my podcast on this one part alone lol) I do want to ask she talks about her mom a lot how long was she alive before he died to have so much confidence on the dad and men oh they can’t be bad daddy care about me and mommy this or that honey your dad was a man 1st dead beat on the horizon second. Shit she could have stay at college hello or something.

“Why do you think he sent me?” He smiled devishly, “I’m the one you gotta worry about, darlin’.” 

That got me in a chock hold like man again for a bimbo reader she got to much smarts on her to be a true bimbo but I gotta say trying to escape to a shack and getting bored and coming back with a daisy crown and a bundle of flowers hehe.

“I didn’t forget your horse,” He spoke calmer than you expected, though his tone still had an edge to it, “She’ll follow. Unlike you, she seems to have a decent amount of common sense…This wasn’t the escape you wanted. Not even close

What a piece of shit huh

I wonder if this was first time he saw her when he was following her: And maybe that was true in some ways, but you were more than he had anticipated. He followed you, watched as you handled the horse with ease, and found himself intrigued. Your confusion, innocence, even your stubbornness drew him in like a moth to a flame. Also so you telling me he waited til she got bored went pick a bunch of flowers and made a crown til he decide to say something lol I also do wonder why this like Rafe said this is like a slap in face with a fish deal for him or this a test also I’m worried when he said this : But perhaps his father had seen exactly what Rafe was seeing now. You were raw, so unpolished, and that meant you could be shaped. 

In all he stated he how power and this idea of to be shaped idk even if he does manipulate her she obviously has more common sense then they think does she do it right mostly no but I hope and feel won’t be so easy. But I can see away he can get to her way Ward is with him. No lie he play his shitty hand right she might give him a pass or two. —> Proving himself to Ward was a constant battle, every choice scrutinized, every misstep noted. To run the ranch one day, Rafe needed to show he could manage it all, the land, business, and now a wife. Building a home and keeping you in line was just another test.

Okay so John B works for the ranch oooo ooo ooo. Idk but I’m thrilled about this. Also can u imagine the fit he had lol

Also is he upset this was more worried about the horse then him or she talk to John B in general: Rafe only glared at the worker, jaw tight. 

What a perv: Please, that made Rafe brow furrow. Rafe took the opportunity to cop a feel, of course, he had to know exactly what he was working with. You were his future wife, after all, “Rafe! I don’t like being upside down!” idk I feel he so all over the place you mad but 1st chance you get to touch her u do . You get mad she talking to a boy and mostly what he call having brat behavior

Huh that whole car scene had me crying and throwing a fit huh huh huh I think W gonna be her new bestie and a reminder for Rafe. Fuckin manipulated the fuck out of Herve this shit mmm mm mmmmmm !!!

“To your room,” He spoke low and firm. There hadn’t been any rough grabbing of your limbs or unwanted rides on Rafe’s shoulder since your kiss in the car. You hadn’t fully let you guard down but you preferred when Rafe was calm, and so you remained calm too, “You can settle in.” Because it’s after that and the other moments yeah he still him but idk more he gonna be w her I think it’s gonna see it change to a different vibe.

Also u know he love playing w her and with this proud love for her daddy girl u about to get a whole new daddy girllllll : Whiskey and mint, “You always did what your Daddy said, right?” 

Hate me but that talk about wild horse idk idk but huh i feel hear me out that a threat andddddddd a challenge and maybe ( smack lips) him saying he turn on.

Damn damn damn I hate it bc lets be real we know as rafe drew lovers that he soooooooo bad so bad so naughty so huh all these things and still like a sour candy we go for another huh ( dramatic fall to a chair) damn damn damn that oh u want another kiss we’ll get doll up for me shit smh he gonna do that to her and it was her 1st man o man let him realize that shit. He gonna be baby oil in his hand with lighted candle and some RB music in background fuckin ready . We screw we screws.

You stared, dumbfounded and frozen until the young rancher casually turned and walked out of the room. Your fists clenched at your sides as a storm of emotions swirled inside you, anger and fear. One emotion simmered quietly beneath the surface, unwelcome and disorienting. Anticipation.

rough hands, soft chains [1] r.cameron

[warnings] dark!grey!rancher!rafe x bimbo!cowgirl!reader, arranged marriage, rancher au, manipulation, size difference, future smut, little editing, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

A/N: This is an au I'm trying out where Kildare County is actually in Montana and all the pogues and kooks exist within a ranching community. Hope you enjoy!! I would really appreciate feedback, reblogs are most appreciated!

In which your dying father struck a deal with Ward Cameron, he promised the family land in exchange for your safety. But protection comes with a price, and that price is Rafe Cameron.

word count: 5k

rafe cameron masterlist

After the funeral, you flopped down on the old leather couch in your living room, absently twirling a lock of your hair as you stared up at the cracked ceiling. Your black dress, meant for the sweltering summers, fell just below your knees. You’d paired it with a shawl you found tucked away in your mother’s dresser, a pretty, soft thing with little patterns you didn’t understand, but it smelled like her, so it felt right.

People at the funeral said you looked “so grown up” now, which filled you with a sense of pride. They said nothing about the dirt under your nails from wandering around the yard barefoot earlier that morning or the way your mascara smeared from crying too much. No one ever took you seriously anyway. 

The quiet of the house was deafening, pressing in at you at all sides. The lack of his presence weighed on you. He’d built every corner of this house, your mother painted every wall, and you were grateful for the life they’d built you. Three bedrooms, a wrap-around porch where you’d once dreamed of watching your children play in the yard as you rocked in your chair, and the old, red barn that had weathered time alongside them. You knew you couldn’t lose it, but you weren’t sure how to keep it either.

A loud knock at the front door made the house shake and snapped you from your daze. It was not the knock of a kind neigbor delivering a sympathy caserole, the knock was firm and authoritative. You half expected the sheriff to be behind the door but instead found yourself staring back at Ward Cameron. 

You pushed back the curls that had fallen into your face. He stood before you, tipping his finest black cattleman hat with deliberate grace, lifting it from his head and placing it over his chest in a quiet gesture of respect. His square jawline was sharp, his striking blue eyes unflinching, and though the gray streaks in his hair hinted at age, they only added to his rugged handomenss. 

“Miss,” he greeted you smoothly, his voice as sharp as the crease in his shirt. He looked out of place here, too clean, too polished for the worn edges of your family’s ranch.

Your anxiety peaked, “Uh, hi. Can I help you?” You gripped the handle of the door tighter than you expected. 

“I think you know why I’m here.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s time we talked about your father’s arrangements.”

Arrangements? You shifted nervously, trying to make sense of his words. You knew your dad had debts, but it wasn’t like he told you all the details. You knew that a significant amount of your father’s debt was to Ward. It humiliated your father to lease the Cameron’s grazing rights but he only did it to keep the ranch afloat. Money and paperwork were never your thing, and your dad always said not to worry about it. “I—I don’t think there’s anything to talk about. I’ll figure out how to pay you back, okay?”

Although Ward wasn’t the tallest man, most people towered over you, and as he leaned in the doorway, you knew he had your stature in mind. 

Still, his smile was empty, “Why don’t we discuss this in your father’s office, hmm?” 

“Um, no thanks,” you said quickly, shaking your head. But before you could shut the door, his hand pushed it open with way too much ease. You stumbled back, your cheeks heating with embarrassment as he walked in like he owned the place.

“Excuse me! You can’t just barge in here!” you squeaked, hurrying after him, his expensive boots, tapping against the creaking floor of your home. 

He made his way down the downstairs hallway, barging into the room that not even your father wanted you to step in. Immediately as you stepping inside, a coldness touched you. he heavy oak desk sat like a monument to your father’s stubbornness, papers scattered across its surface in disarray. Just looking at it made your brain feel fuzzy. Ward moved behind it as if it were his own, his hands brushing against the chair’s worn leather.

“I offered to come speak to you, before all of this drama, but your father insisted I wait until he was gone,” Ward gestured to rickety chair that sat in front of the desk, “Sit.”

You ignored him, crossing your arms in stubborness, “What are you talking about?”

“Do you know how much exactly your father owes me? How much you’d be taking on?”

His words, like they had certainly intended to, made you feel stupid. Your father made sure you were uninvolved in the ranch’s finances and he had just passed this week, you hadn’t thought about entering his office and disturbing his things. 

You blinked, your mouth opening and closing. “Well… um… I know he owed some money, but he didn’t really tell me how much.”

“It’s more than the farm is worth, Y/N.”

The weight of his words settled heavily between you, thickening the already suffocating air in the room. You clenched your jaw, refusing to show any sign of the panic tightening in your chest. The farm, your father’s legacy, your mother’s dreams, was supposed to be yours to save.

“That can’t be right,” you said, though your voice wavered slightly. “My father would’ve told me if it was that bad.”

“Would he? It’s nothing you should’ve worried your pretty head about,” Ward continued, his eyes sharp and assessing, “We parents try to protect our children. But he was too prideful. Pride doesn’t pay the bills and banks don’t wait forever.”

“The bank–”

“The bank would’ve taken the entire property if your father hadn’t already signed the land over to me.”

Your heart sunk into your stomach at Ward Cameron’s words. Your breath hitched as you stared at him, trying to process what he’d just said. You shook your head in disbelief, “He wouldn’t do that.”

The land was the only piece of your father that you had left. A hundred acres that your family and only a few ranch hands tended to.There were dwindling amounts of livestock, mounting debts, but it was your home. Humble in comparison to the Cameron’s thousands of acres but it belonged to your family. Even if you were the only one left. 

“This all would’ve been easier for you if your father had explained all of this to you before. I think he was scared of you hating him.”

“I don’t understand.”

Ward’s expression didn’t falter. If anything, he looked almost bored with your responses, “We came to an agreement a year after his initial diagnosis. Instead of losing it to the bank, he would sign it over to me.”

“I promised to take care of you.” Ward’s words were slow, deliberate, as if he were explaining something to a child. “You’re unmarried, no prospects, and this place is a sinking ship. Someone was bound to take advantage of you eventually. You don’t have the resources to rebuild.”

“T-take care of me?” you stammered, your face scrunching in confusion.

“You’ll come live with my family for the time being. And eventually you will marry my son, Rafe.”

Your eyes went wild, “Are you crazy?”

Ward’s expression didn’t change. If anything, he looked even more smug. “This arrangement keeps the land in the family, ensures your safety, and gives you a future. You’re not equipped to handle this ranch on your own, Y/N. Your father knew that. I’m offering you a way out.”

You gaped at him, your thoughts spinning too fast to make sense of anything. “I… I want to talk to a lawyer or—or see his will or something!”

“You’re out of options. It’s either this arrangement or being out on the streets. I’m tossing you a lifeline.” 

 “I didn’t agree to this,” you said, your voice shaking with a mixture of anger and disbelief.

“No,” Ward admitted, standing and adjusting his cuffs. “But your father did. And a Cameron always honors their agreements.”

You wanted to scream, to tell him to leave and take his deal with him, but the weight of your father’s decisions pressed down on you. The debts, the ranch, your future—it was all tangled up in a web you couldn’t escape.

“I’ll give you until tomorrow to pack your things,” Ward said, placing his hat back on his head. “Rafe will come by to collect you.”

He turned and walked to the door without another word, leaving you standing alone in the office. The walls seemed to close in around you, and although you’d be crying for a week, you cried again. 

You thought that if you weren’t at the house when Ward’s oldest son came to collect you, they might just give up and leave you be. Maybe you’d slip through the cracks of their plans, vanish into the quiet of the countryside. You could disappear for a little while and return in a few days. It would be rough surviving outside but you could make it on your own. You’d packed a small bag of essentials and took Juliet, the chestnut-colored mare that had belonged to you since your fourteenth birthday.

“Okay, Jules, we’re gonna go on a little adventure,” you whispered as you fumbled with her saddle. 

Her large, liquid-brown eyes blinked at you with trust as you led her down the south path, the one behind your family’s ranch, overgrown from years of neglect. You left before the sun had a chance to rise. You didn’t want Ward Cameron or his scary son to find you, after all.

You tried to dress for comfort. Your long jeans would keep you warm, and you layered a jean jacket over a soft white cotton shirt. Perched atop your head was your trusty white cowboy hat, its wide brim offering protection from the sun, taming your unruly curls, while keeping your face shielded.

Juliet made a snorting sound, and you patted her neck. “Don’t worry, girl, we’ve totally got this. Like, what’s the worst that could happen?” You glanced back at the ranch, its dark outline fading behind the trees. 

You mounted Juliet after deciding the direction you were going to travel in. You wanted to be much farther away by the time the sun came up. The air was cool and crisp, a reminder of the coming morning. You looked behind you although you were sure no one was following you yet. 

The path twisted and turned. “Okay, so if we head toward the old fishing shack by the river, we can stay there for, like, a day. Nobody’s used it in forever.” You spoke out loud, pretending that Juliet could respond. “I think it’s... that way.”

You continued down the path in the direction you remembered the fishing shack to be located. The sun rose slowly, bringing light to the dark path. The shack was tucked away on the outskirts of the ranch, sitting in the bend of the river, most of it shielded by tall grass. The water flowed gently, the sound caressing your ears, it’s hues reflecting the red in the sky. 

A clearing sat nearby covered in wildflowers, the bright colors splashed against the muted landscape. You hadn’t ventured this far out since the previous spring and were surprised to see how the flowers had held their vibrancy, defying the chill of the cooler months. 

You hopped down from your saddle, taking Juliet’s rein before you tied her to a nearby tree, allowing her room to graze. The shack was small and weathered, and you rested on a rickety cot that you had to clear of cobwebs. It felt safe. At least for now. 

If only staying still was your strong suit. A few hours later, boredom quickly got the best of you. You could only talk to Juliet for so long and you’d failed several times to nap inside the dirty shack. The silence pressed in on you. You decided to wander out into the wild flower fields, tugging your cowboy hat low over your curls. The vibrant colors were calling to you. 

An hour later, you held a thick bundle flowers in your arm and a crown of daisies wrapped around your hat. Before you knew it, the shack was almost out of your sight and you faced a long trek back to Juliet. 

You didn’t hear him at first.

“Hell of a hiding spot.”

The deep drawl froze you in place. Slowly, you turned, heart pounding, your eyes landing on Rafe Cameron sitting tall on his horse a few yards away. His blue eyes sparkled with amusement, though the tight line of his jaw hinted at something darker.

Rafe’s quarter horse was even more intimidating. It’s coat was midnight black, sleek and imposing. There was a wild, untamed quality to him, a fire in his eyes that mirrored Rafe’s own.

“I… I was just…” You stepped back without thinking, the urge to drop your bouquet and bolt creeping up. You’d seen Ward’s son from across a room before, but no one had ever bothered to introduce you. Still, you knew enough from the whispers and rumors. He was wild, always getting into trouble with the Kildare County police, and everyone said he was gonna take over his dad’s power and influence one day. 

He was older than you remembered, more rugged, and definitely more muscular. His black button-up shirt clung to broad shoulder and his sleeves rolled up to reveal sculpted arms. A baseball cap sat atop his head, the bill slightly bent, with the Cameron Ranch sigil stitched on the front—an emblem of a stallion rearing. His light brown hair peeked from beneath it, slightly tousled. 

“You’ve been wandering around all morning. Half the town’s already seen you,” Rafe leaned forward slightly, eyeing you curiously, “If you were gonna run, thought you’d go a little bit farther.” You gained the courage to finish your sentence, “I wasn’t running …or hiding. And you can’t tell Mr. Cameron that.”

“Why do you think he sent me?” He smiled devishly, “I’m the one you gotta worry about, darlin’.” 

Your lips parted in shock and Rafe watched you take another step back. His jaw clicked before he swiftly hopped down from his horse. His heavy boots hit the dirt with a thud that seemed to echo, and you couldn’t help but notice the sheer size of him. Though he wasn’t much older than you, it was clear he towered over you, his presence demanding attention in a way that made your knees feel weak.

“I’m not coming with you,” You stated with all the strength you could muster, “It’s not right. You can’t make me.”

He stared back at you. Where Ward was bored by conversation with you, something about your Ward’s made Rafe’s eyes fiery, “And I guess you’ll make your living by what … selling flower crowns?” 

Your eyebrows furrowed. You hadn’t considered that an option. In fact, you hadn’t dwelled long enough on what you would do once Ward gave up on this arranged marriage nor did you have any idea of how to make the ranch profitable again. The idea seemed wrong. Flowers weren’t the key, were they? 

“I’m kidding,” Rafe spoke again after a moment of watching you reflect, “That’s a bad fucking idea. You know…I think your father might’ve been right about one thing in his life. You do need someone to look after you.” 

“You don’t know me,” You looked away, your face heating up with embarrassment, “And I don’t want to go with you.” 

A yelp escaped your lips as he started to close the distance between you, his long strides closing the gap in a matter of seconds. His smirk widened at your reaction, and quickly, you dropped your bouquet and made a run for the fishing shack. Rough hands easily snatched you up by your waist, lifting your feet off the ground, and making your head spin, “You’re real cute, darlin’,” Rafe drawled, hardly breakin a sweat as he dragged you back towards his horse. His grip on your waist was firm, unrelenting, and no matter how much you kicked or squirmed, it didn’t matter. He only hoisted you higher. 

Heavy boots crunched against the dirt. You could hear your breathing and the sharp pounding of your heart in your ears. You lost your hat and subsequently your flower crown in the struggle. Scared that you might spook Rafe’s horse, you found yourself succumbing to his force, letting him lift you onto the saddle. 

“Please, let me down,” You whispered, tears beginning to fall. Rafe was next, hoisting himself onto the black stallion, squeezing himself behind you. You were pressed against him so much that you could feel the flexing of the muscles of his stomach. An arm wrapped tightly around your waist. 

Rafe shushed you, and surprisingly, you felt him settle your hat back on your head. You hadn’t even seen him pick it up. You were never supposed to ride without a hat, that’s what your father had taught you. You barely had time to process it before he urged the horse forward, the powerful animal's hooves pounding the earth beneath you as Rafe held you tightly, “M-My horse, Juliet!” You remembered, panicked, “I won’t go without her, Rafe!”

“I didn’t forget your horse,” He spoke calmer than you expected, though his tone still had an edge to it, “She’ll follow. Unlike you, she seems to have a decent amount of common sense.” 

He kicked the horse into a gallop, the powerful animal responding instantly, the sound of its hooves hitting the ground like thunder in the otherwise still air. The wind whipped through your hair, stinging your face. You gripped the saddle tightly, to anchor yourself, despite knowing that Rafe’s grip was strong enough to keep you from flying. 

This wasn’t the escape you wanted. Not even close. 

Sure, he’d heard the rumors that you were a little …daft. And maybe that was true in some ways, but you were more than he had anticipated. He followed you, watched as you handled the horse with ease, and found himself intrigued. Your confusion, innocence, even your stubbornness drew him in like a moth to a flame. 

The last thing Rafe wanted was a wife. He resisted the way his father felt like he could stll make decisions for him. Rafe was losing with this arrangement. Your father’s hundred acres was nothing in comparison to what he family already had and would acquire. But perhaps his father had seen exactly what Rafe was seeing now. You were raw, so unpolished, and that meant you could be shaped. 

Once you were under the Cameron’s roof, Rafe had the power to do whatever he wanted. 

Proving himself to Ward was a constant battle, every choice scrutinized, every misstep noted. To run the ranch one day, Rafe needed to show he could manage it all, the land, business, and now a wife. Building a home and keeping you in line was just another test.

That morning, Rafe had never expected to chase after you on horseback. He had arrived in his truck, scouring the house for any sign of you, only to realize you were already gone. In frustration, he called John B., one of the Cameron ranch hands, and sent him to bring Trigger, his horse, to the Y/L/N ranch.

When you both returned, John B. was already there, waiting. Thunder cracked above, a sunny morning turning into a dreary afternoon. Rafe barked orders to ensure Juliet and Trigger were both stabled at the Cameron’s ranch.

He lifted you down from the saddle, his grip firm on your wrists before you could bolt. It only took a second for him to realize the urgency in your voice as you spoke, trying to talk to John B., who was already taking Juliet and Trigger’s reins. “She gets nervous when she’s in new places. She doesn’t like to be rushed,” Rafe overheard, catching the panic in your tone.

“Yes, ma’am. Don’t worry, I’ll take it slow with her,” John B. assured her although Rafe only glared at the worker, jaw tight. 

“Come on,” Rafe pulled your arm, “We’re leaving.”

Your small hands grabbed where he’d wrapped his hands around your arm. You dug your boots into the gravel in front of the house, “Wait, I don’t have everything. I-I need to grab some things,” Rafe’s gripped only tightened as his irritation grew. 

“You should’ve thought about that before you made me chase after you,” He took one more look at your teary-face before he snapped. Taking you home should’ve taken thirty minutes, not four hours. Without warning, he scooped you up over his shoulder, ignoring the surprised gasp you let out. 

Your legs kicked in the air, “Hey! Please put me down!” Rafe didn’t spare your house on John B. a second glance as he trudged over to his dark, blue truck. Please, that made Rafe brow furrow. Rafe took the opportunity to cop a feel, of course, he had to know exactly what he was working with. You were his future wife, after all, “Rafe! I don’t like being upside down!” 

“Scream all the way there for all I fucking care,” He muttered under his breath, his voice cold as he finally reached the truck and tossed you into the passenger seat.

Rafe sped off moments after he pressed start engine on the vehicle. You went quiet and he hoped to be alone with his thoughts, soothed by the soft pitter patter of rain on his windshield. Fifteen minutes down the road, he heard your breath hitch. He looked over to see you were staring straight head, eyes wide and wet with tears. Smudged mascara beneath your eyes. Your chest rose and fell rapidly and you clutched your hands tightly in your lap. Your lips were shaking, moving as if you were whispering something to yourself. 

Your legs began to jitter, restless, and Rafe looked away. He managed to tune out your obvious panic for nearly an entire minute. He had a rare feeling. One he didn’t fully understanding. The angel on his shoulder was telling him to reach out, to try and comfort you. He thought about what Wheezie might think if this was the disheveled state he brought his future wife to meet her in. He let out a quiet sigh, knowing it was only going to get worse as the reality of your situation set in.

“Hey,” He spoke without that sharp edge, channeling a voice he might use with his youngest sister, “I didn’t mean you’d never get your things. We can come back, when you’re more settled …And I’ll send someone to get all your keepsakes. Okay?” 

“Okay, okay, okay,” You repeated though your voice sounded empty, “Okay.”

He thought those would be the magic words but you hadn’t even turned to look at him. You were doing the same thing, shaking like a leaf, barely taking in enough breath, “Fuck,” Rafe cursed. He pulled over to the side of the road with a sharp jerk, the gravel crunching under the tires as the truck slowed to a stop. Without thinking, he shifted into park and turned to you.

Rafe needed to be more deliberate in his actions. He had eyes on him, his entire immediate family, and he wouldn’t have them thinking he couldn’t handle you. 

He tried to calm you, squeezed your hand, told you to breathe over and over again. Nothing. You were spiraling, letting your thoughts consume you. Rafe had been too rough. It was all too much too fast for you. He wanted to mold you, not break you. 

He leaned in, taking your face in his hands, and pressing his lips to yours. You went frantic but he only deepened the kiss. He held your hand and slowly felt your tension lesson. He entwined his fingers in yours and slowly felt you move your own lips against his. You tasted like cherries, dark red, and perfectly ripe. His hands moved to the back of your neck, his fingers pressing lightly, urging you to focus, to let go of the panic.

He pulled away only when you stopped your heaving. 

“You’re okay,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “You’re okay now. Breathe with me.”

He waited for you to come back to him, cradling you there. You had no one left, Rafe realized in that moment, the truth settling heavily in his chest. And maybe that was why he couldn’t bring himself to be cruel. 

No, taking care of you wasn’t just an obligation, it was an important responsibility. One he’d shoulder completely. Whether you liked it or not, Rafe would make sure of it.

Rafe Cameron tasted like whiskey, with a faint hint of mint that lingered now even as you stood in the foyer of your new home, Tannyhill Ranch. The white house was sprawling and pristine, situated amidst of sea of green fields. Windows sparkled even in the storm that was coming down, and although the roof’s shingles were weathered, it was hard to believe the property had been there for more than a century. 

Workers, chefs and maids, bustled by but no one spared you or Rafe a glance despite the dry tears on your face and disheveled appearance. 

The interior was grand, the hardwoods polished until they shined, and the ceilings were higher than the ones at church. Everything screamed old money. You felt a hand on the small of your back, guiding you through the grand entrance hall and then up one side of a grand staircase. Portraits line the walls, serious faces, Camerons and previous owners of the estate. 

Their eyes watched you, “Rafe, where are we going?” You asked him quietly. 

“To your room,” He spoke low and firm. There hadn’t been any rough grabbing of your limbs or unwanted rides on Rafe’s shoulder since your kiss in the car. You hadn’t fully let you guard down but you preferred when Rafe was calm, and so you remained calm too, “You can settle in.”

Rafe led you down the upstairs hallway, stopping at one of at least six bedroom doors, and pushing it open. The room was breathtaking, a four-poster bed draaped in white linens, oak furniture, blue-white toile patterns, and large windows that overlooked the property. It was beautiful, yes, but none of this belonged to you. 

Your fingers absentmidnely traced the fabric of the bed’s comforter before you got a grip, turning around to say something in protest, “Don’t look at me like that,” Rafe interrupted, hands tucking into the front of jeans as if to give off a non-chalant appearance. The position emphasized the silvery belt buckle that sat on the middle of his waist. 

“I don’t want to live here,” You spoke softly, your voice still weak from all the crying. 

“I know,” Rafe continued, sounding exactly like his father, “Your father did though. You still love your Daddy, don’t you?” 

Rafe’s words made you think. Really think. Of course you loved your father. He was a smart man and he always did right by you and your Mother. However, deep down, this all still felt wrong. You stood there, caught between the beauty of the room and the unease of what you felt.

You nodded, “But–”

“But this is what he wanted, darlin’,” Rafe spoke in a way that carried a sense of finality. Rafe stepped closer and suddenly his body was a brick wall keeping you from leaving the room. His lips pulled into a smirk and he leaned down to speak in your ear, his breath fanning over your cheeks. Whiskey and mint, “You always did what your Daddy said, right?” 

“Yes,” You answered too honestly for your own good. 

“Now you’ll do what I say. That’s how it works. A young lady belongs to her father, and one day, after she grows up, she belongs to her husband,” He straightened up and you blinked your big eyes up at him. Slowly, your eyes traveled down to his lips, “You’ll thank me, one day.” 

Gently, he tucked a finger beneath your chin, lifting it even higher. You held your head exactly in the place he placed it, making something flicker in Rafe’s eyes. A heat bloomed in your core. You could only think about that kiss, your first one, despite the fact that he was one of the men completely ruining your life. 

“You ever seen someone break a wild horse?” 

His question caught you off guard, and your brows furrowed slightly as you searched his face for meaning. The smirk on his lips deepened, and his hand dropped from your chin.

“Takes patience. Takes strength. Takes knowing exactly when to push and when to pull back. But eventually, the horse figures out who’s in charge.” His blue eyes darkened, the intensity of his gaze pinning you in place, ”Out on the ranch, when we get a wild one. It’s my favorite thing to do. Watch em’ go from fighting you to starting to trust you. Really, there’s no point in fighting. The one’s who don’t submit, we don’t keep em’ around. They’re dangerous.”

“Oh,” You managed to say, shifting uncomfortably, “That sounds … hard.” 

Rafe chuckled in response, “Hard? Yeah, especially if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, Rafe’s smirk returned, sharper now, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“You want me to kiss you again. I can tell.”

His words sent you stammering immediately, “No!” 

“Tell you what,” Rafe interrupted smoothly, ignoring your denial as if it hadn’t even registered. “If you settle in, get all dolled up for dinner…” His voice dripped with false generosity. “I’ll give you another one.”

You stared, dumbfounded and frozen until the young rancher casually turned and walked out of the room. Your fists clenched at your sides as a storm of emotions swirled inside you, anger and fear. One emotion simmered quietly beneath the surface, unwelcome and disorienting. Anticipation.

Reblog and let me know your thoughts to be added to the taglist!

[81pastrys]

Hi I have a request for dad Lando where his teen daughter (or son idm what kid just preferably teens) comes home from school where she did like a mock test in schl and one of the physics questions mentioned F1 and Lando as an application question. But I can just imagine her coming home and telling Lando how weird that was. I saw this one tt that was a F1 physics question and got inspired 😂

(idk where u live but I'm from England and we have these mock exams where we get scenarios and we just have to apply our knowledge to the scenario in question idk if it's the same everywhere but just wanted to clarify 😭)

The Mock Exam

Summary— Luka comes home and tells Lando about his Mock Exam

Warnings— he curses like once ; max and Lando curse

A/N— I do in fact live in the US so I had no idea what that was but thank you for the explanation!!! (I also did my own research)

Dad Lando List

Luka was studying his ass off for his Mock exam, yeah it wasn’t the real exam, but he really wanted to do good so he could race. Lando was streaming at home with Max while Luka was at school stressing out.

He got the exam and read each question carefully and answering to the best of his knowledge. It was easy for the most part, simple scenarios. He got to one and audibly laughed.

“Quiet please Mr. Norris.” The instructor said. Luka mumbled an apology and answered possibly the easiest question on the sheet. He had to explain how aerodynamics works in cars. He had gotten this lesson from his dad multiple times.

Possibly his longest answer was that one, going into details about slipstreams and such. He finished the exam and was dismissed. He got home and set all his books down.

“Luka!” Lando called out. Luka followed the sound to the game/office Lando had set up. “Hey, how was school?” Lando asked, slightly focusing on his gameplay with Max.

“I think I did good on my mock exam, there was one question about car aerodynamics.” He was kind of excited to tell Lando. “I wrote like an essay on it.” He laughed.

“I bet, I’ve explained it to you a million times.” Lando laughed. He died in game and looked at Luka now. “Jeez you’re tall.” He said, sitting in his gaming chair looking up to his 16 year old was a different view of Luka.

“I don’t know where I get it from.” Luka shrugged jokingly and Max laughed on the other end of the call. “Oh shit, Max is on?” Luka asked. “Sorry, language.” Lando tapped his son’s head and smiled.

“Hope you don’t speak to your mum with that mouth.” Lando said. Luka and Max talk gaming and Luka takes his dad’s spot to show off. Max would include Luka in gameplay when Lando was busy.

“Dad what is this setup?” Luka asked. “It’s horrible.” He changed Lando’s settings and played like a pro gamer. “Another question on the Mock exam was about computer setups, I think I aced that too.” He causally mentioned. Lando laughed at the off topic comment and watched his son play.

“Ahh I’m dead, they’re in that blue warehouse.” Max said. Max was streaming live and his screen was focused on Luka’s. The stream, Lando, and Max watched Luka 1v3 and win. “Good shit.”

“Alright, alright, enough of you playing on my account.” Lando said, jealous his son was better than he was.

“I’ll join in a minute, I’m hungry.” Luka said, giving Lando a fist bump and heading out to make food. Max laughed and Luka spun around. “What?”

“That’s definitely your kid, he eats the entire fridge and then just fucking sleeps.” Max says. Lando laughs at the call out and Luka rolls his eyes.

Max and Luka stream anyone?

@il0vereadingstuff @chertik-007vvv @pandabiiissh

[uniquethingtastemaker]

I give sporadic updates so here’s one for you, and as always I clump all my latest stuff together.

The Rook x Reader fanfic is already 17k words and I’m not even fully to Chapter 6 now. There’s a lot of question marks on how far and detailed I should go for a few scenes, specifically Vil’s speech and subsequent introduction of the VDC crew to the audience. It’s important to the plot, but idk how much I should add. I have to add a questionable Vil moment in the part that has “Mira Mira” too. Now I have to move on to Chapter 6 which hopefully this section isn’t too too long. It’s hard to keep up the motivation but I’m spurred by my desire to give this fic to u guys. It’s amazing so far!! I have a fun time reading it lol and some of my friends too!

It will be fantastic when it’s out. It’s my baby.

I had another idea Rook x Reader fic! I can also make a Vil x Reader using the same concept and take it a different direction. I’m referring to it as “Role Reversal”

I’m recycling something that I created for the Rook x Observant Reader. I had to make a whole ass outline for a movie plot that Vil would star in. I thought it would be fun if there’s a director who comes to NRC and wants to use the students to film a movie or whatever. As always, Vil gets cast as the villain. However, he accepts it because he cares about the director, production, and storyline or whatever. No one else can play the villain as well as he can, so he’ll do it.

The director sees Reader and goes “you! Let me see how you fair in this character.” The character is the protagonist and you nail it multiple times. You become the director’s favorite low key. However, you read the script and go “bro, the villain is way cooler. I wanna play the villain.” You glance up at Vil, who doesn’t want to play that role and go, “I think I can make this work.”

Then you proceed to absolutely obliterate everyone’s expectations by being the perfect villain. Like, it’s better than Vil’s, which is saying something. However, you insist that Vil should be in the protagonist instead.

He’s confused but doesn’t questions it. You help him be the main character and help him as a person along the way.

Regardless of if it’s Vil or Rook, it works. I’ll adjust the romance as needed lol.

I’ve also been working on Silver’s “Dreaming of You” fanfic, which is fun. I definitely have to cut some of the original dialogue down and alter it. Usually when I do this, it isn’t as straightforward as it has been with this. The Reader is just very encouraging and empathetic. They’re strong in an emotional sense and always stand up for themselves or others, including Silver. There’s a lot of compliments that our knight has to get used to.

There’s also a great moment where you show and tell Malleus you’re scared of him which is so good and low key angsty, but in the best way. I like telling people off when they’re hurting people lol.

Also I’ve had an idea for Rook’s “Dreaming of You.” Can you tell who my favorite character is? Anyway, I have an idea for him that I’m working on. However, it’s not fully fleshed out. I’m trying to decide how Rook acts in this. I won’t spoil anything though lol

I just started tampering and working on Azul’s “Dreaming of You,” which is great so far. I really like it. However, I want to make sure that it’s longer since I like longer fanfics. It’ll probably have to continue into the Savanaclaw section, fleshing out their relationship. I love Azul so I want to make sure he has more screen time lol.

I have to go back and watch some moments toward the end of his dream. I remember how to tweel’s act really callous, but I don’t remember what happens before then. I’ll have to do that.

That’s all for the update now. I’ll probably post the segment I have for the Rook x Reader — Role Reversal just because I like it lol. I’ll probably post it in the next few minutes lol

[wompwomp56]

Someone pls write this as a full fic 🙏

Pre season 3 au where Steve suffers from migraines and nightmares so he seeks out Eddie for weed so he can finally get some sleep. Eddie, wary at first, eventually takes pity on the guy and they strike up and unlikely friendship. Things basically follow canon, maybe looking into Steve and Dustin’s friendship and Steve dealing post Nancy breakup. Anyway eventually we get to Star Court and Scoops (again canon compliant) except when Steve and Robin escapes from the movies to go have their bathroom conversation, Eddie (who was also there just watching the movie or smt) sees and follows them. And high Steve is like “omg Eddie I’m so happy to see you love you omg”. Meanwhile Eddie is just super confused because, why is Steve high? None of the drugs Eddie has given him are this strong? Has he got a new dealer? Why wouldn’t he tell me? And also: wtaf happened to his face? Essentially Eddie gets really scared for Steve and tries to get him to leave the mall and go to the hospital but Steve isn’t making sense and keeps saying “no no I gotta stay the kids need me”. Eddie hasn’t met the kids yet and this just makes him more confused. Then high Steve decides he wants to kiss Eddie and so he does and then Eddie is even more confused (not mad abt it just confused). Steve suddenly realises that if Eddie stays he’ll get mixed up with all the Upside Down shit and so to protect Eddie he yells at him to leave etc.

Eddie is now extra confused cause to him it looks like Steve kissed him then got mad at him for kissing (eg he thinks he’s homophobic or smt) and so Eddie leaves confused, angry and still worried. Canon timeline again for a while, Steve has started to get panic attacks whenever he gets high (with weed from Eddie before they still haven’t talked) because of the Russians and so naturally he stops getting drugs from Eddie. He still thinks they’ll hang out tho cause they’re best friends. Anyway eventually Steve’s like: “hey I haven’t seen Eddie in a while I wonder what’s up with that?” And he happens to run into him when picking the kids up from Hellfire. Steve is so happy to see Eddie meanwhile Eddie gives him the cold shoulder. The whole time Dustin has been insisting that Eddie and Steve would get along not knowing that they were already friends and had had a falling out. It goes on like this for a while, Eddie being lowkey mean cause he thinks Steve hates him cause he’s gay and then Steve’s being nice but confused bc “wtaf did I do to this man”

Eventually things come to a head idk I’m thinking Steve goes over to Max’s place to check up on her cause she’s been withdrawing from the kids and Eddie just sees Steve knocking on her door and he assumes Steve is harassing her and goes and confronts him. Steve is like wdym man I’m just checking up on my friend while max stands there like 🧍‍♂️… hey. This leads to Steve asking “what did I do to piss u off so bad, tell me so I can make it better. The last time I saw you was in like June” and Eddies like “no the last time we saw each other was July 4th” Steve’s like “wdym man, I was at that fire in Star Court if you were there then that means…” then Steve remembers what happened and is like oh fuck. He start’s apologising cause he assumes Eddie’s mad he kissed him. More miscommunication ensues. Not sure how this would end but either season 4 happens and Eddie lives and they work their shit out or they actually talk it out but who knows. Thanks for reading, if anyone has any recs or wants to write this PLS let me know xx

[fruit-salad-ship]

So hypothetical for the Witcher au if the trio somehow ended up as Witcher’s together same school and everything how long did it take them to become the lovable menaces they are?

Hrm. Their styles would vary widely, I originally imagined peach in the school of the bear, grey would fit too, but plum couldn’t keep up with that. I guess snake isn’t terrible, plenty of variation.

The girls were ostracised immediately. Peach was dumped there and plums family paid to keep her there, out of their hair. Because they were the only girls they were often stuck together and it made them both angry. They wanted to be treated like everyone else, but instead were pushed harder and mocked for even being there.

Their training though fierce was led by a Witcher in training a few years older than them, Grey, a young boy with a good heart volunteered to help them when no one else would. He swiftly put them both on their asses, expecting neither to get back up fast, but they both did. Unrelentingly stubborn, he found their tenacity infectious, and wildly appealing. Eventually in groups with other youngsters grey was chemically altered to be a proper full fledged Witcher and started taking jobs, leaving the girls alone to train. Their competitive natures led them to slowly learn to get along, finding respect in the others skills, peach grew strong and defensive, while plum grew fast and tactical. Both made great steps with signs, peach excelled with the herbal aspect making tonics and such, while plum boasted ridiculous knowledge of recorded creatures and how to fell, use and manipulate them. They were surprising the others in their school, surviving is one thing, excelling a totally different story.

They garnered enough praise that the other teachers would start to lead them, each finding weapons to suit, adapting to fit their styles, and reconnecting with grey whenever he returned from beyond the walls of their home, demanding all the stories and information. Their midnight laughs and tall tales were what brought them together, he however was privy to some information he withheld from the girls. plum was smaller and far less durable, she would undergo the same Witcher creating process as the boys, a very…sketchy survival rate, a good percentage didn’t pull through. Peach however was far more thick skinned, seemed to possess an unusually high tolerance for some of the more dangerous poisons and potions in the schools labs, and thus the higher ups wanted to test a new method on her. Witchers we’re hard to make, if the new method worked better they could ensure their survival perhaps.

Grey sat on this information for a few days, sparring with them, noticing just how quickly they’d both developed their skills, no wonder the leaders wanted to get on with their turning process. Finally over dinner he mentioned it, both girl falling quiet. It was what they’d trained for but they knew the risks. He didn’t mention peach’s unusual new process, figured she’d find out when they came to get her.

Thing is they never warned peach at all, she expected a horrific process that would either kill her or make her stronger. The girls had a quiet moment waiting to be called for, they shared a room, both just sat there in the quiet. Plum was nervously tapping her foot, wringing her hands. A small kindness, feeling her class mate, the bigger girl opposite her come across and sit beside her on the bed. Didn’t say anything, just took her hand and held it. They waited there like that until someone came to get them.

Didn’t question why peach didn’t go into the same room as plum and the others.

Grey sat up all night. Couldn’t sleep a wink, kept hearing horrifying cries in the depths of their home, the many kids being pumped full of mutagens and tonics. His change was not a good memory, he could only hope his friends would survive.

Plum pulled through much to everyone’s surprise, it was her and two other boys out of two dozen that actually got through it. Some whispered that it was a shame she made it and not one of the others. A murmur that hurt to hear, but she was use to being the one no one wanted around. Even peach was strong enough to overtake most of the boys, and they respected that she took a hit same as they did. Plum eventually emerged, a sight for sore eyes, Grey ran to her, big arms bundling her up, grinning, he was so worried. It was a huge relief, but the elephant in the room was painfully evident. No peach, not anywhere.

A whole month passed. Every night plum returned to her empty room and looked at the bed her friend use to use. Grey asked, and pestered and bothered his teachers, asked where she was, why she’d not been listed in with the dead, why he couldn’t pay respects to her body, where even was it? Not a single adult could say anything, exchanging nervous glances and dodging the subject. Sometimes he swore at night when he’d wander down to get water, he’d hear her, a very distant choked cry, swore it was her.

Then one day she shows up. Like a ghost, peach returns. Plums chair falls back she gets up so fast, grey vaults the table, they’re with her the second she enters the great hall, several others noticing the commotion. Peach is drained, visibly smaller, dark circles under her eyes like someone who’d been pulled back from the dead, hair faded in colour, and yet, to see her friends was all that mattered. she would lie in a bed in searing agony and wish to just sit beside them, if not that, then the relief of death finally. Grey asked what happened, plum prying, helping her to a table to sit. The sight of them both well however was overwhelming, peach just broke down and cried, something no one had ever seen her do. Plum had heard her in the dark of their room some nights, but never seen it, not like this.

They left their questions aside, comforted her, got a meal in the woman, tried to slowly get answers. It was plum sneaking around in the shadows at night, stealthiness used to get sweet treats from the kitchens unnoticed, that she overheard some of the older witchers.

Peach had been a subject in their tests. She had been killed a dozen times, and brought back, in order to strengthen the Witcher powers, and speed up the process. It however took way longer than originally thought, this was the first human test, and it went wrong. Peach suffered for 5 weeks, in and out of living, of consciousness. No wonder she looked like she did. Their conclusion? No one should be subject to that process again. What they did, even by Witcher standards, was too cruel. Plum went back to her room, her friend in her bed, sleeping lightly, sick to her stomach about what she’d learnt, paused at the edge of the room with an intense need to do something about it.

Plum instead of getting in her own bed, put her hand on peach’s shoulder, startling her awake, turning in the dark to see the reflective eyes looking up at her. Pushed her to move over, which she did, and got in behind her friend, wrapped her up in a hug, so angry at the situation. Peach had no idea what was going on, just felt this little woman behind her holding so tight. It was…weird, sure, but plum obviously needed this? So she said nothing, went back to sleep.

Plum told grey everything in secret, they watched peach train and saw despite her withered state she was still fiercely determined. Right back to sword practice without hesitation to rest up more than a day. They swore to not tell her, she didn’t need to know, all that mattered was that she survived. They helped her regain what she lost, the once weak bodied woman regained her muscle mass and then some, started to overtake others in terms of skill, started to laugh and joke again. Before long she was her old self, and the three of them travelled together to take on jobs throughout the kingdom. The secret still remains with grey and plum. Peach hit her stride, all that they wanted to do was be together and find exciting new things to enjoy in life. They have however found it very unusual that they’ve never seen peach go full Witcher, the black eyes, the toxin riddled body. She’ll neck tonics and they don’t seem to poison her even half as much, and her durability is insane, no one should have that much stamina. Whatever was done to her certainly made her stronger, but at what cost.

[kiivg]

.another Farid Thorne dress up [part 1].

[luuxxart]

royal college trio 🍂🍁

[the-golden-mango-of-discord]

if i could maybe get on my soapbox here for a moment i think what ppl get fundamentally wrong abt wulian is that it is built on unequal grounds and it can never reconcile that by nature of where both of them are at in their respective narrative arcs. any story about xie lian recognizing wuming’s devotion and trying to do better by it is explicitly rejecting xie lian’s actual character at that point in his life and projecting his future self onto the narrative, when that xie lian doesn’t exist yet and can never exist at this point in the story bc he hasn’t experienced that outside act of kindness. he can only see wuming’s devotion as trivial and misguided at best, repugnant and mocking at worst. wuming means nothing to xie lian until his sacrifice, and ironically enough it took a random stranger’s secondhand kindness to even awaken that realization in xie lian. wuming’s devotion is just not what xie lian needed at that point in his life and was actively spurring on his self-hatred and jaded apathy toward the world. the huge chasm between xie lian’s utter disregard for himself and wuming’s devotion, which is entirely dedicated to the exact person xie lian despises. thus the more wuming devotes himself to xie lian, the less he thinks of him. of course that’s very unromantic and not conducive to fluffy fanfiction, so ppl make up a xie lian who actually has the capacity to care about wuming and by extension himself

[idontmindifuforgetme]

how did u become this productive and academic and cool.. what age did u start..

Built this way babeyyyy

[reasoncourt]

if anyone is wondering why i care about taylor swift discourse it’s genuinely just because i think people lose their point in their hate for her. and they lose perspective.

like she’s actually not the most evil woman in the world. she gives her workers insurance (bare minimum) and good bonuses (she’s mega rich so also bare minimum) and she buys carbon credits (bare minimum but also opens an interesting convo - i.e. how much should we value carbon credits?). she doesn’t use her voice enough imo but she also doesn’t speak out of turn (i.e. she doesn’t pretend to be well-versed and authoritative on topics she has no knowledge in (arguably she should educate herself on certain topics but tbh i’m inclined to view it as a positive that she doesn’t introduce global political issues beyond “trump bad” to her crazy af fan base… like she could do more but i also don’t have much faith in her politics cause she’s so so so out of touch so i prefer the silence)).

an important note here is that i do think she’s absolutely fucked for not condemning the genocide of palestinian people (especially when she’s supposedly close friends with the hadids who are outspoken on the issue and would greatly benefit from her public support (obv she shouldn’t just speak out bc it affects her personal friends but the fact that she isn’t speaking out when she has personal friends is honestly bizarre to me)).

but she's not unique for any of this. she does more than most of her peers and also way less than she should. that's all i see.

and yet ultimately it’s like - people side with kanye when he put a naked wax figure of her in his music video without her consent when she was 25. that situation was obviously misogynistic but people hate her so they largely glossed over it and decided she deserved it for "lying"about a phone call she didn't lie about. people also seem to think it’s funny that football bros are making ai porn of her (arguing she “deserves” it) despite that line of thinking obviously being detrimental to all women and especially those who are so much more vulnerable than her. people got angry at her for donating $250,000 to help with kesha’s legal fees in her case against ‘Dr. Luke’ because they considered it a publicity stunt even though taylor swift wasn’t the one to make that donation public. people called her performative for taking a man to court for sexually assaulting her and only asking for $1. and obviously they would’ve criticised her for asking for more.

the thing that really aggravates me is that there is so so so so so much to criticise her for. but it’s so so so so so obvious that a lot of people just hate her and don’t actually have any legit problem with the things they say they have a problem with. their favs could do the exact same thing and they won’t find any issue with it. cause they just really hate taylor swift and won’t step back a bit in order to just critically think about what their principles are and how those principles apply to this situation with taylor swift and whether they’re actually consistent with those principles and will apply them to someone other than taylor swift.

there are such valid points and important discussions i see being completely missed because the complaint is about Taylor swift and people seem to be incapable of thinking beyond the fact that they just, first and foremost, hate her

and let it be said that this is not a taylor swift defence post. i could not give a single shit about her specifically. i do find her music fun and nostalgic but i also think it deserves more criticism than it gets (but that’s not what this post is about). it’s just that she’s one of the most talked about people in pop culture and i feel like legitimate and productive discourse is rlly hindered by people’s disproportionate focus on her

[inkykeiji]

As sad as I'd be if it turns out Dabi/Touya's dead I want him DEAD so bad. Like he deserves it😭 I don't even know if I mean that as in "he's a horrible person and deserves to die" or "he's been through enough and needs to be put out of his misery" but I want him deceased

LMAOOOO i am 100% with you on that anon!! & for me, it’s both—especially since death is what he wants. like he fully intended to die and take his father and possibly brother with him during that final battle. the man wore white on purpose; it was supposed to be his own funeral. in my opinion, the best end for him would’ve been him and enji dying together—this way, touya gets what he wants (to kill his father) and enji makes amends for all of his transgressions (with his life).

[bibleofficial]

where is my fat husband

[padfootastic]

Regarding your next gen kids post, sometimes I really do wish there wasn’t an epilogue. That the reader left the world on a hopeful note instead of fast forwarding 19 years later and finding out Harry named his child fucking Albus Severus

ahahaha i know right!!! like i get symbolism and i get neatly wrapping everything up and i get closure but !!! albus severus?? eugh. even ignoring all the implications of the people he’s named after, it’s just. such a profoundly uncool name like bro. harry. ginny. spare some mercy for ur kid pls 😭😭

(also it is so funny to imagine that james and lily were once married with a kid and the vol. 2 version of them are just. siblings 💀 becomes worse when the next gen kids are characterised as carbon copies of their namesakes)

[stunie]

a really cool sounding song played when i followed someone back & it kept getting louder and louder so i got spooked & exited out of their page and came back n no more music ?!?!

[deus-ex-mona]

winter 2k24, huh~~~~~~ _(:3 」∠)_

[kulliare]

i’m aware it’s past 10 but allow me