#if I fuck things up in our friendship I will regret it forever

[reidsweetener]

spencer and his bau!secret wife eloped😊✨

the case had affected spencer on a profound level; it made him question alot of things about his life— and as he lies awake in that hotel room, reflecting about his life and his achievements, he couldn't help but think there was something missing... a very important something.

his job had provided him with little to no room to entertain relationships, but it was his luck, or his misfortune, that he found that connection with his teammate; you.

your relationship wasn't yet established, both agreeing to keep things casual and slow. test the waters, learn the more intimate habits of eachother... basically, to safeguard the dynamics of the team, and to maintain your friendship, neither of you wanted to jump the gun and instead, foster a deeper connection that runs just beyond a skin deep attraction.

he knew all about the terms you've established, but it didn't deter him from knocking at your door, in the middle of the night.

“spence? what..” your words were muffled by the eager kiss he places on you, hands finding purchase on your waist.

“marry me.” he voices, eyes ablaze with resoluteness, while you blink slowly, breathing heavily as if you'd just got the wind knocked out of you.

it could very well be, because the intensity he conveyed with the tentative brush of his lips were tanamount to the wind being knocked out of you. you still think you were in a sort of dream, because there was no plausible explanation as to why he would ask for marriage when... when you've only been seeing eachother for two months!

“spence, i.. i don't understand.” you furrow your eyebrows, confused. you brush the stray curl on his eyes, resting your hand on his neck and petting him absentmindedly.

“let's get married. now. tonight.” he follows up, eyes pleading and his hands gripping you to him with urgency. “we can find a church, get somebody to officiate, we'll sign the paperwork afterwards and submit it. let's have our honeymoon in italy, in spain; wherever you want.” he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours. “i will take care of you forever. i will give you everything you want, i—” he exhales. “there is nothing i wouldn't do for you, darling.” the last words were getting smaller, as if he were losing his confidence.

your heart stutters in your chest, biting your lower lip. this is fucking crazy. “okay.. but i don't have a white dress..” you whisper, watching his expression bright up comically.

you laugh, when he picks you up and spins you around, kissing eachother with a smile. “i promise, you won't regret it.” he murmurs, reverently, looking at you as if you were the sun.

“i know i won't, spence.” you preen, interlocking your fingers, and then.. and then you were in a small church, in the middle of nowhere, vowing to love and cherish eachother.

[hotgirlssupportlando]

one day x lando norris pt 3

this is a part of my series following one day of every summer from 2016 onwards in y/n’s and landos lives, exploring their friendship and love for one another. ofc not a smooth ride with some angst and fights along the way. a friends to lovers, growing up together kind of thing. read first part here pairing: lando norris x fem!reader summary of this part: y/n having a hard time adjusting to life at uni so she turns to her friend lando for comfort warnings: none? a little sad wc: 1,1k a/n: sorry it has been a while since posting, i've been finishing my masters thesis and processing lando's first win!!! yayyy :) BUT i'm going to upload more frequently now x

late summer of 2018

y/n was on the verge of tears, breathing heavily to calm herself as the outgoing facetime call echoed in her university dorm room. she was sat on the floor of the dark room with her back uncomfortably leaning against her bed.

”please, please, pleease lando pick up” she whispered desperately, praying that he wasn’t too busy preparing for another upcoming f2 weekend. seconds felt like minutes when the only person she wanted to talk to didn’t pick up his phone. y/n sighed and was about to end the call when the  deafening silence suddenly was cut with a loud and excited ”hellooo my smart girl!!”. in about two nanoseconds y/n could see that lando was at the gym training with jon, immediately regretting that she called.

”oh i’m sorry i can call you later” y/n said trying to sound as happy as she could in the state that she was in. but lando knew her from inside and out so her act wasn’t very convincing.

”hey y/n, what’s going on? are you okay?” lando said after processing the sight.

”yeah no it’s nothing.. i can call you when you’re done training” y/n said as she faked another smile. 

”y/n seriously you have a nice smile but you can’t convince anyone with that, i can see from miles away that something’s wrong. and however i’m done with training so i’m all yours” lando said with a concerned voice as he walked over to a private part of the gym. 

”thanks lan.. I, I just-” y/n whispered, looking away from the boy up to the ceiling to prevent any tears from developing. ”I just don’t fit in here lan.. it’s not at all what i thought it would be”

”oh darling.. i’m sorry to hear that”

”i just don’t know what to do, i haven’t even got any friends lando! how pathetic is that?? i’m surrounded with geeks and people with zero social skills who all have found friends but not me? ugh i just hate this place, i hate all these people..” 

the girl in his phone who had tried her best to keep it together bursted out into tears. ”you know how much i wanted this! i’ve always imagined that the university would be my thing, where i would find my place and blossom. but tell me how can i do that when all i manage to do is sit alone in classes, sit alone and eat and then go to my dorm to - surprise - sit alone on my bed being depressed.”

”i’m so sorry y/n..”

”…AND as the icing of the cake, not a single on of my friends are even close to fucking edinburgh - couldn’t somebody have prevented me from coming here? why didn’t i just stay in london where everybody else is? nooo, i just had to be special.” y/n sobbed as tears streamed down her face. 

”i ju-, just miss everyone so much lando. i miss my friends. i miss my family. i miss you. i miss you for not being five minutes from my home. i miss our drives and talks and laughs lando. it feels like i haven’t seen you in forever”

”i know y/n i miss you too, it has been too long since i saw you in any other place than my phone”

y/n wiped away her tears ”yeah.. i’m sorry i know you’re busy with everything in f2, i don’t mean to blame you for this.. i just miss your stupid hugs so damn much sometimes” she said as a small smile cracked upon her lips. 

”heey i didn’t know my hugs were that badly ranked” lando giggled receiving a laugh from y/n too. 

”and y/n?”

”hm?” ”why haven’t you told me that edinburgh is in a different timezone than london?” he asked.

”what? it isn’t? who tricked you into that?” y/n answered confused.

lando laughed, ”y/n look around you, it’s so pitch black in that room i can barely see you! the only thing my screen is picking up is your bleached teeth”

”lol lando it’s called depression” y/n laughed ”i’m always in depression-timezone, always hauntingly black surroundings, nothing for cheerful and life-enjoying boys like you” she joked.

”no, no, no let’s not go back to you being sad again, i just managed to make you happy again!!” lando proclaimed. 

”whoops sorry” she smiled ”no but seriously thank you lando, i really needed this. someone to vent to. but now i really have to go, i’m getting late to my class, even though i’m pretty sure no one’s missing me”

”stop it y/n, you’re missed, if not by your lame classmates then by me and all your friends and family”

”thanks lando, that’s very sweet of you. bye now” y/n smiled, this time genuinely. 

”bye darling”

—

hours later that night y/n was, like every other night, sat on her bed watching friends for the millionth time. her newly made tea was way too hot to drink so she put the mug on her bedside table. as she was on her way to snuggle back under her sheets watching her series she heard a knock from her door. y/n froze. without moving too much and making any noise she looked at the clock on her wrist. 23:38. after watching way too many documentaries she automatically drew the conclusion that it with most certainty was a killer of some sort. with this in mind she quietly picked up the nearest item to defend herself with, a hot cup of tea. 

it knocked on the door again. but it wouldn’t be possible for anyone to enter the building without anybody noticing, right? y/n calmed down a little bit, taking her phone with her to be able to call for help if it was needed. slowly she walked to her door and opened it. the sight in front of her was beyond what she had imagined. it was lando. there he was standing in her corridor in the middle of the night with a bouquet of flowers in one hand and 12-pack of pepsi max in the other. the sight made her revisit the memory of them meeting two years ago when he, with the same smirk on his face and a similar bouquet of flowers in his hand, won a bet against her leading to their first kiss. y/n smiled when she noticed the pepsi in his other hand, as he since that day in 2016 always provided her with the drink as some sort of consolation prize for the lost bet.

”i heard you were in need of a stupid hug” lando smiled

—

taglist

@amberpanda99 @phantomxoxo @landossainz @chezmardybum @lan4cha16

[writingforstraykids]

hiya! i'm still pretty new to your blog but i really like your writing! english isn't my first language but i hope my request is still understandable ^^

m!reader (with they/them pronouns if possible 👉🏻👈🏻) is best friends with chan. chan praises the reader in some way and figures out that they have a praise kink so he just keeps praising them to make them flustered all the time (bonus points if he throws in the classic 'good boy')

oh and i wanted to ask if i could maybe be 🦖 anon?

thank you!

It's always been you

Pairing: Chan x m!reader with they/them pronouns (mention of Minsung)

Word Count: 4301

Summary: Chan and you have been best friends for what feels like forever. You long for more, not knowing that Chan feels the same. Minho and Jisung decide to lend you a hand the way Chan and you did for them.

Warnings/Tags: friends to lovers, fluff, slight angst, smut, teasing, praise kink, dry humping

A/N: I know we've talked a while ago about this request but I hope I did your wishes for it justice, my dear🖤

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

You hum gently to yourself as you make your way back home, scrolling through your phone as you try to find a good song. A smile covers your lips as your best friend's voice rings through your ears and you can't help the warm feeling spreading through you. Chan invited you over for a movie night with the boys, and you couldn't wait to spend time with them…or him. Being around Chan made you feel things you never felt for anyone else ever before. Those soft brown eyes, beautiful smile, and warm hugs made you feel so loved. You know there's no chance he would ever love you back, but that didn't stop you from gazing after him. 

You reach their dorm, and Minho lets you in, pulling you into a short hug. “Hey, Min.”

“Hey,” he smiles and closes the door behind you. “Channie hyung will be there in a bit. He went out to grab some snacks with Ji,” he explains and pats your back, leading you inside. 

“Oh, okay,” you nod and glance around the living room, where they've already set everything up. “Can I still help with anything?”

“Nah, you're fine,” he tells you and gently shoves you toward the sofa. “Relax, okay? We got it.”

-

“Fuck, Ji, it's getting worse every time they're there,” Chan sighs and grabs some of your favorite cookies. 

“Worse?” Jisung frowns, and Chan nods weakly. 

“Yeah, they're so funny and adorable and so pretty,” he says and glances at his friend nervously. “I really want to be more than just friends.”

Jisung squints his eyes at him suspiciously. “Just sex or more?” he asks quietly. 

“Not just sex,” Chan shakes his head and awkwardly scratches his neck. “I wanna be there for them, make sure they're safe and loved.”

“Why don't you tell them?” he asks curiously. 

“I'm scared of ruining our friendship,” he admits. 

“You will, one way or the other, won't you?” he asks gently. “You'll regret it if you don't tell them, believe me. I could've saved myself a lot of pain if I told Minho hyung a lot earlier.” 

“Yeah, but…I told you Minho loves you. You had some clarity after that,” he sighs softly. 

“I can ask Y/nnie,” he shrugs, and Chan's eyes widen fearfully. “Then I'll tell you, and you can decide what to do with that information.”

“Yeah, okay,” he gives in after a moment. 

-

You look up as they return from the store and smile softly, spotting Chan and giving him a small wave. Chan smiles back, walks past you, and gently pats your head. “Hey, bestie.”

“Hey,” you smile gently, swallowing at the word that once brought you so much comfort but now is a simple reminder of what you didn't have. 

You see Minho greeting Jisung, pulling him into a hug, and gently rubbing his back. He asks him something you can't quite hear, but his eyes are so soft, his voice gentle, it makes your heartache. Minho giggles at Jisung’s answer and cups his face, kissing his forehead. You quickly look away, biting your lower lip. You still remember how happy you were when they got together, but over time it got hard to watch, wishing for something like this with Chan. “Y/nnie, can I talk to you for a second?” Jisung asks as he pulls back. “I need help with something.”

“You're okay?” Minho asks worriedly. 

“I'm okay,” he assures him softly and squeezes his hand. “Come on,” he waves you over. You get up, not noticing Chan's anxious glance as you leave the room. 

Minho glances at him suspiciously. “Oh…that?”

“Mhm,” Chan nods nervously and Minho flashes him an encouraging smile. 

“How could they not love you, huh?” he chuckles compassionately. “Relax, hyungie.”

-

Only a little later, you're back in the living room, trying not to look all too confused. There isn't much space left on the sofa, and Chan pulls you into his lap naturally. You sink back into him and bite your lower lip nervously. Why the hell did Jisung ask if you're in love? With Chan? Was it that obvious? 

You can barely focus on the movie playing and want nothing more but to leave and think this all through. It's over sooner than you thought, and you're all sitting in a circle on the carpet now. 

“Truth or dare anyone?” Seungmin asks, and you curse yourself quietly. Of course. 

“Not for me, I should get -” you start and see Chan's smile fading. 

“You're leaving already?” he asks worriedly, and you nod quickly.

“Oh, come on, Y/nnie,” Jeongin pouts at you. 

“You can't leave already,” Changing protests and places the cards into your circle. 

“Fine,” you give in weakly and sit down next to Chan, who lifts you into his lap rather quickly again. His arms wrap around your waist, and his chin rests on your shoulder. “Clingy,” you comment fondly. 

“Fuck off,” Chan gives back just as fondly. 

The game goes on, and luckily, you're getting easy tasks and questions that don't make you uncomfortable. Jisung is sleeping in Minho's lap by now as the latter plays with his hair, and Felix's head is resting on his shoulder. Seungmin and Innie keep on teasing each other, hoping for the most stupid questions for each other. Changbin is still reading the questions, and Hyunjin giggles every time he shows him beforehand. You're still comfortable in Chan's lap and giggle as Seungmin spins the bottle, and it points at the two of you. 

“That's pretty in the middle,” Changbin states and frowns softly. 

“I can go; I'll take truth,” Chan volunteers. Changbin glances down at the question before grinning. 

“Do you have a crush? If so, who?” he reads out loud, and Chan stiffens beneath you. 

“I do,” he nods, and your throat dries. 

“Who?” Hyunjin asks, pointing out the second part of the question. 

“Someone I know really well,” Chan says, and your heart drops. That could be everyone in this room, and looking at the others, you know it can't be you. There's no chance. You push yourself from his lap before you fully comprehend your thoughts, excusing yourself for the bathroom. Chan glances after you worriedly as you bump into the table on the way out and exchanges a worried look with Minho. 

“I got it,” Minho nods and gently plants a sleeping Jisung into Felix's lap. “You go on,” he tells the rest before making his way upstairs to the bathroom. Minho gently knocks at the door and fondly rolls his eyes as you don't answer. “Y/nnie, let me in,” he says and waits for another moment. “I'll go get Chan if you don't.” You quickly open the door and pull him inside, locking the door again. “Cozy,” he comments teasingly. 

“Why are you even here?” you sigh softly and sit down heavily at the edge of the bathtub. 

“Shouldn't I ask you that? This can't be more comfortable than Chan hyung’s lap,” he says and sits down next to you, shaking his head. “Definitely not.”

“Mhm, you should know, right?” you ask sarcastically, and Minho grins. 

“Oh, I do…I've seen…or felt…everything you dream about,” he chuckles and gently pats your thigh. “I'm with Ji. What's stopping you now, huh?”

“Don't be ridiculous,” you shake your head and sigh heavily. “There's no way on earth Chan would love me and - oh fuck, I sound just like you,” you groan. 

“You do,” he giggles. “And I remember you telling me to get myself together and finally realize how handsome I am.”

“Well, you are, you dumbass,” you roll your eyes at him. “That doesn't exactly apply to me.”

“I think…I know Chan thinks very differently about that,” he says and is quiet for a moment. “So do I, dumbass,” he says and gently smacks the back of your head. 

Minho's words hit you like a wave, washing away the stubborn layers of doubt that had clung to you all evening. Despite the sting of his playful smack, there's an undeniable warmth in his words, an affirmation that maybe, just maybe, Chan might feel the same way about you. 

"But, Min," you start, your voice trembling slightly from the mix of hope and uncertainty, "What if you're wrong? What if he doesn't... What if it's not me he's talking about?"

Minho raises an eyebrow and gives you a look that screams exasperation mixed with fondness. "Y/nnie, when have I ever steered you wrong? Listen, Chan's not as good at hiding his feelings as he thinks. The way he looks at you? I've seen it. It's more than just friendship. This isn’t my talk to have, though, you know?"

You're about to respond, but there's a knock on the bathroom door that makes you both flinch. "It's me," a voice says, one that sends butterflies rampaging through your stomach. Chan.

Minho winks at you and stands up. He walks past Chan with a knowing look as he exits the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar. You're frozen in place, your heart pounding so loudly you're sure Chan can hear it.

Chan steps inside, closes the door behind him, and leans against it. His eyes search yours, filled with a nervous energy that matches your own. "Y/nnie, are you okay? I noticed you left suddenly..."

Taking a deep breath, you nod slowly, trying to muster the courage that Minho seemed to think you had in abundance. "I'm okay, Chan. Just... a lot on my mind, I guess."

Chan moves closer, his concern evident. "Anything you want to talk about? You know you can tell me anything, right?"

The sincerity in his voice nearly breaks you. With a shaky exhale, you decide it's now or never. "Chan, I... I need to ask you something. Earlier, when you said you have a crush... was that-"

Chan's face changes then, but before you can interpret it, he lets out a breath he seems to have been holding. "Yes, it's you. It's always been you, Y/nnie. I was just too scared to say anything because I didn't want to ruin what we had."

The words you had feared and hoped to hear tumble into the small space between you, and for a moment, the world stops. Tears prick your eyes, not from sadness but from an overwhelming relief that floods through you.

"Chan, I... I feel the same," you confess, the weight of your unspoken feelings lifting off your shoulders. "I was so afraid you'd never see me that way."

Chan steps forward, closing the distance between you in an instant. His hands cup your face gently, and he smiles - a real, soft smile that you've dreamed of being meant for you. "How could I not? You're amazing, Y/nnie. I've just been an idiot about it."

And then he kisses you, a soft, sweet kiss that promises more. As you melt into him, the fears and doubts of the past fade away, replaced by the excitement of what comes next.

Outside the bathroom, the sounds of the ongoing game and the laughter of your friends continue, a reminder of the world waiting for you both. But for now, in this small, shared space, nothing matters more than the two of you finally bridging the gap between friendship and something much deeper.

When you finally pull away, Chan's grin is as bright as the stars you imagine are shining outside. "Come on," he says, taking your hand. "Let's go back.”

The two of you sit down again, and you lean back against him comfortably. Your eyes meet Minho’s, and you can’t help but beam at him. Minho smiles gently and winks at you, focusing back on the game. Chan gently intertwines your hands in front of your stomach and rests his head on your shoulder. “Tired?” you ask him quietly enough for only him to hear.

“Starting to be, yeah,” he hums quietly. “You wanna stay tonight?” he asks so sweetly there was no chance you’d deny him. 

“I would love to,” you nod.

The evening goes on, but the atmosphere around you is subtly different now. The other guys seem to pick up on the shift; quick, knowing glances are exchanged, and an occasional smirk is poorly disguised as a cough. As the evening slowly comes to a stop, the games gradually transform into yawns and stretching limbs. One by one, the room starts to empty as everyone heads to their room. Changbin claps Chan on the back as he passes by, whispering something that makes Chan chuckle and squeeze your hand tighter.

Once the room is empty, Chan shifts slightly, turning to face you. "So, what do you want to do?" he asks, his voice low and warm. "We could start another movie, just the two of us, or maybe just talk?"

"The talking sounds nice," you reply, smiling at him

Chan nods in agreement and stands, leading you to his room. You’ve been here so often before, but you never fail to feel at home here. He shuts the door behind you and sits on the edge of the bed, patting the space next to him.

You join him, feeling a blend of excitement and nervousness. "I'm really glad you're here," Chan begins, turning to you with a beautiful smile that makes your heart flutter. "I've wanted to talk like this for so long but didn't know how to start."

"Me too," you admit. "I always wondered what this would be like, talking to you like this, knowing we both feel the same way."

Chan reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "I've been so scared of messing things up," he confesses. "I didn't want to lose you by taking a step that might have been too much, too soon."

You nod, understanding his fears because they mirror your own. "But we didn't mess it up, did we? We're here now, and it feels right."

"It does," he agrees, his eyes lighting up with a mixture of relief and happiness. "It feels perfect."

"What do you think will happen with us?" you ask a small part of you needing reassurance that tonight's magic will extend beyond dawn.

Chan squeezes your hand, his gaze steady. "I think we're going to be great," he says. "We already know each other so well, and we care about each other. We just have to keep doing what we're doing."

"I love that," you whisper, leaning your head against his shoulder.

"I love you," Chan says softly, the words spoken so naturally, echoing through the quiet room.

"I love you too, Channie," you respond, turning to face him. Your eyes meet his in a look that feels like a promise. He smiles sweetly, dimples showing, and gives you another quick kiss.

Chan stands up and offers you a shirt to sleep in, his shy smile making you laugh. You change and slide under the covers beside him, his arm coming around to hold you close.

The comfort of his embrace and the steady beat of his heart soon draw you into slumber, the challenges of the day fading into the peace of the night.

Two weeks later

You’re at the kitchen table with Minho, whispering the details of Chan’s and your first kiss and talk to him. You haven’t really had time to before with Minho gone for a few days. Minho listens curiously, nodding along, and you can tell he’s happy for you. The rest slowly join you for breakfast, and then Chan comes back from his shower after his gym session. His curls are still damp, a bright smile covering his face as he sees you. He passes you, gently squeezing your shoulder. “Morning, pretty,” he says softly, and you can’t help but feel flustered. A quick kiss to your temple follows, and he’s gone again already, getting himself something to drink. 

Minho notices the blush settling on your cheeks and giggles. “That easily?” he asks, amused. 

You gently shove his shoulder. “Shut up,” you mutter. “I’m not used to it.”

“Mhm,” he hums, still giggling softly.

It gets worse as Chan slips into the chair next to you, flashing you a bright smile and casually resting his hand on your thigh. “You slept well, beautiful?” he asks, not noticing the blush on your cheeks deepening. 

What the hell? Why were his simple words causing such warmth to spread through your body? Why are you blushing so hard after a few kind words? His eyes meet yours, and your stomach tightens at the love in them. Fuck.

“Yeah, did you?” you ask shyly.

“Of course, you’ve always been amazing at cuddling,” he compliments you, and you subconsciously shift in your chair. 

You manage a small smile in response to Chan’s gaze, the affection evident in his eyes almost too much to process so early in the morning. He chuckles softly, his hand squeezing your thigh reassuringly, a simple gesture that somehow speeds up your fluttering heart.

“Sorry,” he whispers, leaning in so that only you can hear, “I didn’t mean to make you blush this much.” His voice is a blend of amusement and tenderness, sending a shiver down your spine. You can't help but feel a little overwhelmed by how natural it all seems to him, this newfound closeness between you.

“It’s okay,” you assure him. 

“Are you sure, pretty boy?” he asks and your lips part softly, eyes widening a little. 

“Channie,” you whisper softly, shaking your head. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” he asks, a knowing smirk lacing his features. “I’m just saying what I see.”

Your teeth bury into your lower lip as you feel the earlier shyness shift into something much stronger. Chan was getting you all worked up over nothing, and you’re not even done with breakfast yet.

“Give them a break,” Minho leans over suddenly, rolling his eyes playfully at Chan. “You’re getting them all worked up at the breakfast table; behave,” he says quietly enough only for the pair of you to hear.

Chan’s eyes widen, lips parting in a silent ‘oh’ as he picks up on the effect his words have on you. He leans closer to you, his breath tickling your neck. “Didn’t know you had a thing for praise.”

“Me neither, now shut up,” you plead softly, shifting in your seat and pulling at your shirt to cover your lap. Chan’s low chuckle sends shivers down your spine, and you flinch as his hand moves up your thigh. You gaze at him nervously, but Chan doesn’t even glance in your direction, talking to Seungmin opposite him. By now, you can’t get up to escape the possibility of getting caught because you’re slowly growing hard.

Your breath hitches as you try to focus on anything but the warmth of Chan's hand, your body reacting despite the semi-public setting. It's a thrilling yet terrifying mix of emotions, the fear of being noticed wrestling with the pleasure of Chan's subtle touches.

"Hey, you okay?" Seungmin's voice cuts through your haze, and you snap your attention back to him, nodding quickly, too quickly.

"Yeah, just... thought I saw something outside," you stammer, hoping your voice doesn't betray the flush of heat crawling up your neck. Chan smirks slightly, his fingers pausing as if he's aware of your struggle to stay composed.

The rest of the breakfast passes with a sort of hushed intensity, your mind whirling with Chan's teasing and the palpable connection that seems to have everyone subtly glancing your way every so often. You're grateful when the meal finally ends, and there’s an opportunity to escape the intensity of the kitchen.

Chan stands and stretches, his shirt lifting slightly to reveal a sliver of his abdomen. You have to force your gaze away, feeling the heat in your cheeks intensify. "Wanna go upstairs?" he asks, his voice low, meant only for your ears. You pull at the hem of your shirt, nodding shyly and biting your lower lip in anticipation. Chan giggles and pulls you into a tight hug, whispering to you as some of the boys are still here. “Didn’t know you’d be able to hide it so well,” he tells you, hand running down your back. “Think you deserved yourself a reward, pretty boy?”

“Please,” you whisper, burying your flushed face in his shoulder. 

“If you’re good and keep quiet, I’ll help you out,” he whispers, and you tense in his arms, biting your lower lip hard. 

Your body reacts with a shiver at the promise in his words, the idea alone enough to draw a deep, yearning ache from within you. You nod against his shoulder, unable to speak, your heart pounding fiercely in your chest.

Chan leads you quietly upstairs, his hand gripping yours with a reassuring firmness. You pass a couple of the guys lounging in the living area, completely oblivious to the charged atmosphere between you two. Once inside his room, Chan locks the door with a soft click, the sound echoing slightly in the stillness.

"Sit down," he directs gently, pointing to the edge of his bed. You obey, watching him with wide eyes as he kneels down in front of you. His hands rest on your knees, his touch light but sending waves of anticipation through your body.

"How quiet do you think you can be?" Chan asks, his voice low and teasing, his breath warm against your skin as he leans closer.

"I'll be quiet," you promise, your voice barely above a whisper, trembling with the effort of keeping your composure.

Chan smiles, that knowing, mischievous grin that always sets your heart racing. He slowly moves his hands up your thighs, his fingers brushing the fabric of your sweatpants tantalizingly slow. The touch is light, almost teasing, but it’s enough to make you gasp softly.

"Shh," he hushes, his lips brushing against your ear, sending another shiver down your spine. "Remember, you need to be quiet."

You nod, biting your lip hard to stifle any further sounds. Chan’s hands continue their exploration, now slipping under your shirt to trace the lines of your stomach up towards your chest. His touch is feather-light, yet every nerve in your body screams for more contact, more pressure.

Without warning, he presses down more firmly, his palm flat against your chest as he pushes you gently back onto the bed. You go willingly, your body already on fire from his touch, your breathing heavy but controlled as you try to keep your promise.

Chan climbs onto the bed, straddling one of your thighs as he leans over you, his face just inches from yours. “Still doing okay?” he asks, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

“More than okay,” you breathe out, the proximity of his body making it hard to think about anything but the feel of him against you.

Grinning, Chan shifts his weight, and you feel the firm pressure of his thigh between yours, exactly where you need him. He watches your face closely as he begins to rock gently, the friction sending sparks of pleasure coursing through you. Your hands find his hips, gripping him, guiding him into a rhythm that has you biting down on your lip to keep silent.

The room is filled with the soft sound of fabric moving against fabric and Chan's steady, controlled breathing. You keep your eyes locked on him, getting lost in the intensity of his gaze as he moves against you. Each motion is deliberate, calculated to drive you closer to the edge without tipping you over too soon.

Chan’s hands are on your hips now, his fingers pressing into your skin, his grip firm and possessive. He leans down to kiss you, slow and deep, his lips moving against yours in a dance that mirrors the movement of your bodies. You respond eagerly, the kiss muffled enough to keep your moans contained.

As the pressure builds, Chan’s movements become more urgent, his body pressing harder against yours. You feel a warmth spreading through you, a tingling sensation that starts deep within and radiates outwards. Your grip on him tightens, and Chan breaks the kiss to look at you, his eyes intense.

“Shit, Channie,” you whisper, almost feeling dizzy at the intensity of finally being this close to Chan. 

“Shh, be a good boy, yeah?” he asks softly, biting back a moan himself as he rocks his hips.

“Close,” you manage to whisper, and he nods, his movements becoming even more focused. You arch into him, your mouth opening in a silent cry of release as waves of pleasure wash over you. Chan holds you through it, his body a steady presence as you tremble beneath him. Chan buries his face in your chest with a soft, punched-out sound as his body shivers, stumbling over the edge. 

When you finally relax back onto the bed, Chan’s face is flushed with his own exertion, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. He kisses you softly, tenderly, a stark contrast to the urgency of moments before.

“Was that quiet enough for you?” you ask, a playful note in your voice despite your exhaustion.

“Perfect,” Chan confirms with a chuckle, his forehead resting against yours. “Absolutely perfect.” You both lie there for a moment, catching your breath, the only sound in the room now the quiet hum of the house around you. Then, with a gentle nudge, Chan encourages you to sit up. “Come on,” he says, his voice gentle. “Let’s clean up a bit, then we can go back down. They’ll wonder where we’ve vanished to.”

“Yeah, okay,” you giggle softly, smiling into the loving kiss he gives you before slipping out of bed. Yeah, you could get used to this and so much more.

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist (Please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist):

@atinyniki @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @aaa-sia @lilmisssona @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @rebecca-johnson-28 @lixie-phoria @kibs-and-bits @xxstrayland @ihrtlix @pheonixfire777 @mellhwang @palindrome969 @michelle4eve @harshaaaaa @rylea08 @heeyboooo @manuosorioh @gisaerlleri @andassortedkpop @lailac13 @bbokari711 @kazuuuaaa @rssamj @wolfyychan @stellasays45 @chrizzztopherbang @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @silentreadersthings @myforevermelody143

[do-you-ship-it-polls]

Do you ship it?

reason under the cut!

People say Kavetham is a good ship because they're roommates who bicker all the time and are basically a married couple already, but it goes so much deeper than that.

What if we met in grad school, where we were instantly drawn to one another because of our diametrically-opposed, perfectly-mirrored ideologies? What if we spent our days embroiled in intellectual debates with one another, fascinated by the way each other's minds worked, all while bonding over our similarly fucked-up family situations and the pervasive sense of loneliness we shared? What if you were a relentless altruist, and what if I was the kind of person who valued self-preservation above all; you, an artist and architect, and I, a linguist and historian; and what if we were so sure that our differences were the strength of our relationship that we decided to pursue a joint research project?

What if that all fell apart, because one day I could no longer bear to see you drive yourself into the ground for the sake of other people, and I said things to you that I could never take back, and it made you walk away from our friendship forever? What if, from that day on, we were no longer on speaking terms, and as we grew older and graduated and became successful researchers with jobs in completely different fields, our only form of communication was firing passive-aggressive shots at each other's worldviews through academic journals and tavern message boards?

And then what if, many years later, your self-sacrificial nature finally got the better of you, and you gave up everything to create your magnum opus? And, while everyone around you celebrated your victory, you were secretly at rock bottom, homeless and drinking yourself to death? What if that was when I found my way to you again? What if, in a moment of weakness, you confided in me about everything you had been through since we had parted ways, and I offered my home to you, then? As a temporary place to stay, maybe, while you got yourself back on your feet.

And just like that, what if we started living together, trying to work our way past the festering, unresolved bitterness between us, picking through the suffocating feelings of regret and yearning and the "I-hate-to-admit-it-but-I-still-care-about-you"s and the constant reminders that we once considered each other family in the absence of our biological families? What if we spent every single day since then trying to gather the shards of our old relationship and reassemble it into something on at least vaguely civil terms? What if that's not an easy task; what if, despite caring for each other so deeply, we have forgotten how to hold a conversation that doesn't devolve into an argument?

But what if, over the course of our story, we were each put into situations that make us realize that we are too precious to one another to keep wasting our relationship away on miscommunications? For example, what if you learned that all your mother wanted for you was to have a companion who would support you unconditionally (even when they didn't fully understand you), just as your parents supported each other -- and you realized that I am the one who fills such a role for you? What if, as we continued to face conflicts with stakes both big and small, we slowly got over our communication issues, and grew content with calling our shared house a "home"?

So, what I mean to ask is: what if we were roommates who bickered all the time and were basically a married couple already?

tag: @kanon-kun

-

They're roommates and never seem to be away from each other, even the new character Sethos sees it between them and he just met them (I would go more into detail but I am dying on the inside rn and this is all I can muster)

tag: @animedragonwhouseswitchcraft (sorry once again i missed this one)

[senselessviolets]

“stay soft”

Roman Roy x Fem. Reader

Rating E (Smut)

Word Count: 3.3k

AO3 Link

WARNINGS:

Mommy kink, smut, some plot, this man has MOMMY ISSUES™️, gentle femdom, titplay, breast sucking, so much dirty talk, Roman gets called “baby” a lot, no PIV, no uses of Y/N

Author's Notes:

The people have spoken—y’all want Roman being fucking babied in bed so that’s what the fuck I did and I have zero regrets. Totally gave up in the end but school’s been incredibly draining for me so I’m proud of myself for even getting THIS out.

[Gif creds: I forget. if it’s yours, lemme know!!]

Summary:

You are an equally wealthy childhood friend of the Roys and Roman in particular. After years of little to no contact with him, he and you decide to finally act on the mutual attraction you both share in the most ‘Roman way’ you can think of. 

“Okay, but like if we…fuckin’...if we fuckin’ do this, I will want…some things. But I’m not g’na fuckin’ beg or anything…call you mommy, ‘goo goo ga ga’…none of that shit. I will want you…to be there…and I will want you to ‘not be there’...if you catch my drift. I-I don’t wanna hear a fuckin’ word or a single moan. I don’t want—I just don’t want it, okay. And this might sound bad—even though I’ve definitely said worse—but you would be just a-a means for me,” a voicemail blears in your ear as you are made aware of the four calls you missed in your slumber, “‘Kay? I dunno. Think it over. It’s not fuckin’ life or death. Until it is. And I kill you. And hide the body and burn the evidence…kidding! ‘Kay, love you, kidding, ‘kay, bye!”

This was uncharted territory for you both. 

You and Roman and the other Roy children were longtime family friends. Like Stewy Hosseni or a lesser example Ray Kennedy. What that meant was your incredibly loaded dad gave Logan Roy an ungodly sum of money in the nineties and had managed to stay on his good side ever since. At their status, that’s what qualified as ‘friendship’. Everything was a transaction at the end of the day. Like you suspected Logan and Caroline had bought their way into their kids’ hearts, to even be in the same room as these titans—to breathe the same air—you had to beg, steal, or borrow. Fortunately, you hailed from less-than-humble beginnings; your father being an incredibly successful venture capitalist-turned-philanthropist and your mother the heiress of a billion-dollar publishing company. 

But it was all just details. 

You were eternally grateful to be an only child, imagining an existence where you and your progeny were destined to forever claw at each other's throats—all for whatever scraps your parents were generous enough to leave you.

Unfortunate. ‘Pitiful’ felt more accurate. Every hollow soiree and vapid function served as a reminder. These were not your people. And they never would be. And yet—

“Heya! Well, you look less miserable than usual. Lemme guess, you finally ditched Loser What’s-His-Face and have taken up my longstanding advice of giving lesbianism a try,”

“Hi, Roman. No, I’ve actually been reminiscing about our younger years together. Remember the time you threw up in your mouth before presenting me my corsage the night of the winter formal? Seventh grade? Ring a bell?”

“That was because it only dawned upon me then that I would be getting Cody Keener’s sloppy seconds,” he answers, “I just couldn’t cope with that, I’m sorry,”

You slug him in the arm and he reacts overdramatically, as if someone stuck him with the pointy end of a knife. Onlookers included none other than Frank Vernon, Hugo Baker, and a close friend of your mom’s, Michelle Anne. This time, you and Roman had crossed paths at your father’s 70th birthday party. It was held at your parents’ penthouse on the Upper East Side and attracted a decent crowd. Faces you’d sworn you met pass you by as strangers come up to you, recounting memories of you who were only this tall. It was always a discombobulating experience but you continued to frolic and mingle nonetheless. 

In truth, this little ‘reunion’ was nothing but a facade. 

You and Roman had been talking for weeks now after years of no contact with one another. Brief texts turned into prolonged phone calls which by the end of the night became one-sided, pathetic voicemails expressing some sort of yearning for the other. It was becoming all-consuming and quite frankly, exhausting. And now it had finally come to blows. 

There was a plan, there were contingencies (of course, there were) but above all—there was transparency. And that was something you could hold onto. Oh, the many men who lied their way into your bed. And then here comes Roman, who’d made it abundantly clear he’d rather inhale glass than have you worm your way into his. So this scheme would not transpire at his place or yours. 

It would be occurring in a Central Park Suite at The Carlyle—just a quick jaunt from your parents’ place. He deigned to be a gentleman and handled the reservations as well as your transportation because you had to already be there. You were going to be lying on the bed, in some satiny sleepwear. No lingerie, no hosiery—nothing that could be construed as ‘sexy’. You were to look mundane, average, and bored. 

Roman would enter and you would be still and let him do as he pleased. While you’d had this endeavor nailed to a T, you’d be lying if you said the prospect of him going off-script—doing things rougher, harder, doors off the hinges, letting his darker impulses get the better of him—didn’t make your knees buckle a bit. 

So once the candles had been blown, the birthday wishes made, and goodbyes were said—you were to slide into his black Range Rover SV while his secondary chauffeur Crispin brought you to your destination. In your duffel was your change of clothes and a few other goodies. It had crossed your mind—once, twice how exceedingly easy it would be to bail right about now. Crispin could drop you off on the side of the road like some floozy and then your personal chauffeur could pick you up and drive you back to your cozy brownstone for a mundane evening spent by yourself—alone. That was the part that struck a pang in your stomach. That was the truly unbearable part. That, and the heat between your thighs which was starting to become really inconvenient. 

…

Now was not the time to get cold feet. 

You had already slid your sequin cocktail dress off and exchanged it for your satin sleepwear. Like the pretty kept thing he’d instructed you to be, you lay flat across the plush hotel mattress, awaiting his arrival, legs swinging to and fro like an eager teenage girl.

Maybe he’d be the one to pussy out.

At least then you’d have yet another thing to hold over his head for the foreseeable future. In your phone’s front-facing camera, you inspected the makeup you’d done earlier that evening for the party and it still seemed sufficient. Your lips seemed a bit drab. You roll off the bed and I sift through the contents of your bag, searching for the mauve lip color you’d brought along. Dabbing it onto the purse of your mouth while gazing into the mirror of the room’s modest vanity—you begin to lose track. 

This isn’t it and you know it. 

You know it. 

So fucking do something about it. 

Examining the time on the wall clock, you decide to hastily shake off your striped satin pj set and tear through your duffel for the sheer lace slip and matching long gloves. Not liking the unkemptness of your long hair at this particular moment, you palm your bag for one of the chignon French hairpins that had sunk their way to the bottom—a go-to for you since your younger years. The best you can muster is a half-up, loose, more-than-messy low bun because suddenly, a knock on the door can be heard. Your heart leaps into your throat and you shove your duffel bag into the armoire in a hurried panic. The click of the hotel room’s keycard lock comes next and you spring to the door as to be the one to open it. You and Roman meet each other’s gaze through the crack of the half-open door, you two beam down at your hands, enclosed over both sides of the handle. He is very noticeably startled, not expecting you to answer the door.

“C-Come on in,” you stutter, gesturing into the hotel suite with a gloved hand. 

Roman’s mouth goes dry. It is not all that often the family jester is able to be truly caught off-guard. This absolutely was one of those times. He shuffles into the room with tepid steps and doesn’t turn around to face you until he hears the door click shut. With a blank, nonchalant expression—he shrugs, prompting you to provide some sort of explanation. Of which, you do not possess. 

“What?” you say. 

“What’s…all of that about?”

“Yeah, sorry…wasn’t really feeling the pajamas tonight. I opted for something I felt was a little more fitting. You don’t mind, do you?”

“No,”

He definitely fucking does mind actually. But any frustration at being caught unawares expresses itself in the form of big beautiful hazel eyes beaming at you with fear and uncertainty. His lips are parted, unable to form the words he can’t even begin to think of at this particular moment.

“So…,”

“...so…?”

“So…lay down,” you finally say.

Roman is able to briefly channel the smarmy assholeishness he usually hones with a sarcastic scoff and smirk. He shakes his head to himself before his gaze finds the floor. 

“...I’m sorry, maybe you just didn’t hear me right the first time,” you say, crossing over until you are eye-to-eye with him and your competing breaths can be felt, “...or maybe I should’ve been a bit more specific.”

You lean in until your lips brush the outer shell of his right ear and he stops breathing. 

“Roman. Lay the fuck down on that bed. Now.”

He quickly scrambles onto the bed, resting on his back while slightly sitting up. There is a tentative eagerness in his demeanor as if the last hints of resistance in his muscles had yet to dissipate.

“Good. Now can you unbutton your shirt by yourself or do you need my help?”

“...I-I-I need your help,” he mindlessly babbles, “P-Please. Please, can you help me?”

You click your tongue at his wanton request, attempting to maintain your composure. It was after the first ‘please’ that you knew you were going to willingly give everything in you to this man right then and there. 

The safeguards? Fuck the safeguards. 

The time for self-preservation was about five or so minutes ago before his knuckles had rapped gently on the heavy wooden door. Without breaking eye contact, you straddle him effortlessly, both knees on either side of his hips. You aren’t certain because all the blood had flooded to your ears and you were unable to hear much over the thumping of your own heartbeat but you swear you hear a quiet ‘oh god’ slip out of him. Your fingers find the buttons on his grey button-down and your wrists noticeably begin to shake as they undo them.

For fuck’s sake.

Up until this point, you had conjured the impression that you were the one in control here and that there was nothing he could say or do otherwise. But now the true vulnerability of the situation had begun to set in. The playing field had been leveled. 

His fingers enrapture yours and he steadies your grasp as you both work to unbutton his shirt. Roman swallows, anxiously. You get more than half of the way there before he gives up and presses his face firmly to yours. 

It’s a declarative kiss. 

It’s long-lasting and when the two of you eventually break it—you know there’s no going back. Those hands of his, wracked with nerves, find their way to your hips. He slowly drags the lacey fabric up so your upper thighs are exposed. Once you can feel the soft flesh of your hips exposed to the cold air, you grab his wrists and he freezes. 

“Ah-ah-ah, I don’t think I remember saying you could do that,”

“I-I’m s-sorry. I’m sorry. Don’t—I’m sorry,”

“So many apologies, they just keep on coming,”

“I’m…,” he deeply exhales out of his nose. 

“You’re what? Wait, lemme guess,” you goad, “Sorry?”

He bobs his head up and down, face full of embarrassment.

“Hm…think I’m a little sick and tired of those ‘sorrys’, sweetie. You and that mouth of yours. Oh, that fuckin’ mouth of yours. You couldn’t even begin to imagine the amount of headaches it’s caused me in what, the two decades I’ve known you? What are we gonna finally do about that mouth?”

Roman looks up to you, hanging onto your every last word. 

“I-I don’t know, j-just tell me what to do. I can make it up to you, I-I promise,”

You genuinely take a moment to mull it over, though the growing hardness pressing against your most intimate place admittedly was making it hard to think.

“...I think…we need to find another use for that mouth of yours—something to keep it busy, hm? How does that sound, my sweet baby?”

You swear his face goes pale as he assumes you mean your cunt. While the thought had crossed your mind (many, many times in fact), knowing Roman—you know that would be too much. And that you would lose him forever somewhere along the way and you didn’t even want to begin to think about that. 

You tilt your head, staring longingly at that poor little boyish face of his. Your clothed index finger traces its way slowly from the exposed flesh of his tummy, up to his ribs, across his collarbone, along his Adam’s apple, over his bearded chin— finally stopping at his pinkish bottom lip. You pull it down, making him pout for you. 

“Open for me,” you utter softly. 

Roman obeys, his tongue moving upwards in his mouth when he swallows. You continue to tease around his mouth torturously, the lace creating a delicious friction against his beard. The heat of his pants against your lone finger makes you stir inside. 

“Now, close your eyes—mouth still open,”

He noticeably resists before relenting, his eyes flutter closed. You drop one of the spaghetti straps of the slip off of your shoulder, exposing yourself. Your nipple pebbles in the cool air conditioning of the room. You awkwardly lean your torso inwards, inching your breast closer to his mouth. For a brief second, his eyes flick open, taking in the scene. Catching your drift instantly, he swallows as much of the soft flesh as his mouth will allow, moaning into it. The most obscene sucking sounds soon fill the room. Roman whimpers into your skin, letting his head fall limp against your chest. You wrap your arms around his neck, cradling his head. His brown fluff of hair is too tempting for your hands to not tangle themselves in. 

“There, you go…you’re so good. You’re so good for me, aren’t you? Yeah?” you sigh, tilting your head backward.

You swear you can feel your hips gyrating on their own. Roman’s fingers have ensnared themselves onto the flimsy fabric of your slip, gripping it so tight you think it might tear. Not that you’d give a shit if it did. 

“Y’know what I think? I think you act the way you do all the fucking time because you’re just waiting for someone to come and put you in your place, is that right? Yeah? You’re a brat ‘cause you want someone to do this to you? Hm?”

He releases your nipple and an almost pornographic line of spit drools from his mouth. Roman’s lips are plump and rosy, kiss-bruised and swollen. You find out just how warm they’ve become when his wet mouth comes to meet your own in a kiss so messy, you know you’ll touch yourself thinking about it later.

“I-Is this good? A-Am I being a good boy for you?”

“Mm-hm, you’re being a very good boy for me. My good boy. Mommy’s good boy, right?”

“Yes, fuck, yes—” he sobs, moving onto your other breast.

His voice is shrill and wrought with desperation. You only ever heard it get this high-pitched when he was making a mocking impression of you or some other woman. And now here he was, making these noises all on his own. The edge of his bottom teeth catches your nipple in just the right away. You squeal, jolting upwards in his lap and laughing at the surprise sensation. He soothes the sensitive skin with the flat of his tongue immediately after. 

“That’s it. There’s my boy, there’s my sweet baby boy,”

All of the sudden, his hands leave your slip and fly to the buckle of his belt. Roman undoes his zipper and shimmies down his slacks enough to pull his dick out. He jerks it quickly with his eyes wound tightly shut in an attempt to get himself completely hard. 

“M-Mommy, c-can I see ‘it’? P-Please, god!” Roman begs out.

Your current position leaves his cock hidden by the hem of your slip. All you can see is the silhouette of his fist in the fabric pumping up and down speedily—relentlessly. He could easily just lift the skirt himself and look at your bare pussy, just as he hungrily wants but he doesn’t. 

He waits. He waits for you to give him permission. 

“See what, sweet boy? Say it, use your words for me. You’re a big boy, you can do it. I know you can,” 

Your hands cup his face and you rest your forehead on his. The skin is taught and slick with sweat. A vein above his brow becomes visible as he strains into his own palm. 

“What do you want, Roman?” you reiterate, trying to regain his attention.

“Fff-fuck! Your p-pussy, I wanna see y-your pussy!”

“All together. Say it all together. Say ‘Mommy, can I please see your pretty pussy?’” 

“Mommy, can I please see your pretty pussy?”

His eyes finally open and they aim downwards, expectantly. 

“Is that all you want, pretty boy?”

“N-N-yes!”

“Is that all you want?”

“No! No, I wanna cum, I-I wanna f-f-finish! W-Wanna finish on it,” he whines.

“All together, baby…”

“Mommy, can I please finish on your pretty pussy?! Please!”

It’s on the last syllable of his sentence that he erupts. Only as he’s cumming is he able to look at your cunt. You swiftly move the fabric up and his load catches the edge of it, the rest of it coating your exposed pussy. Roman falls backwards limp onto the pillow and you roll off of him and the bed and onto your jelly-like legs. The two of you don’t look at each other, occupying opposite sides of the room while you make yourselves decent. You shed your stained garment, using it to wipe your cunt clean. You fling it onto the hotel carpet and don’t think twice about it. 

“Mind if I…borrow that…for a bit?” a weak voice croaks from across the suite. 

You turn your head and smirk, still topless.

“All yours.”

Briefly, you catch a glimpse of Roman from behind, buttoning up his shirt. You pull up your dress, sweatier than before when you had taken it off. You expected there to be a palpable shift between the two of you, had everything gone according to plan. You figured the next RECNY ball that was just around the corner might be a bit awkward but it was nothing a few sarcastic quips and some alcohol couldn’t fix.

“My guy’s still waiting out front, so that’s my not-so-stealthy getaway. I can have Crispin pull around in twenty if I guess, I dunno, you wanted to shower the stank off of y…”

Roman’s words trail off as he becomes caught up in the sight of you; your cocktail dress zipped up halfway, your hair in an even messier updo than before, one heel on with the other remaining to be seen. It left him dumbfounded, feeling impulsive, like he could leave everything behind then and there and things might turn out alright. 

“Um…d’you maybe wanna just come with me…I dunno. Back at my place, I mean. And don’t make it into…it’s not a thing. Th-This is not a thing. But, yeah, we could order in whatever you, you could stay over, I-I got spare rooms–”

“Roman—”

“—it-its not like a big deal or anything, y’know? This isn’t, this wasn’t ‘a thing’. Fuckin’ labels and everything, I m—”

“Roman! That all sounds fine; I just would like to exit one of the nicest hotels in the damn city not looking like a two-bit whore, yeah? Come and zip me up,”

“I mean, if you ask me—I think it’s a rather fitting look,” he says, echoing your previous words.

“ROMAN!” 

“Alright, fuck, fine!”

End.

{ Feedback is welcome! }

Follow me on twt: @endlessviolets

<3

[sukiipjs]

✮ BLONDIE : PT 1

°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° . ° .•

↳ nick sturniolo x masc reader

↳ words - 2239

↳ summary - you’ve been having a hard time realizing and accepting the fact that you’re gay, and in love with your best friend. you try to ignore the feelings but that only makes everything worse until you can’t hide it anymore.

↳ contains - swearing, angst, use of y/n, internalized homophobia, depression, crying, idk??? [READ PT 2 - PT 3]

↳ song - blondie by current joys

°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° . ° .•

°:. *₊ ° . ☆

nick has been my best friend for years, he’s always been there for me, and me there for him. we met in the first grade when he saw me alone at recess on the swings and he ran up to me, asking if i wanted to play with him and his brothers. one of the many things i love about him, hes always there, always there to help, or just be with. from that day on he’s always been my number one but honestly, i’ve been kind of avoiding him lately.

of course i don’t want to, i really really don’t want to, trust me, but i don’t want to make anything bad between us either. even though pushing him away is probably fucking things up anyway.

the thing is, for months, maybe even years now i think that i might be coming to a realization: i think i’m gay, or not gay but bi? i hate labels, i dont want to be put into a box, its honestly just hard to fit into one too. i mean i’ve had girlfriends before and i’ve liked that, but nick…

okay i might be coming to another realization: i think i’m in love with nick. and to make everything worse, i can’t even talk to anyone about this because the only person i would tell is nick, but if i told him, well i just cant, it could destroy our friendship. he’d hate me, i cant lose him.

but maybe i’m not in love with him, i mean i love nick, i always have but maybe its not love love? maybe its just me appreciating our friendship more. okay who am i kidding it’s definitely becoming more, I LOVE HIM. he’s just perfect, in general, to me, to everyone. i want to spend every moment of my life with him, i want to hug him and never let him go, i want to be with him, i just want to see him again.

i can’t even imagine what he’d say if he knew i liked him. he’d probably be disgusted, i’d ruin our friendship forever. i cant do that, i can’t risk anything like that, i need him even if that means the best thing i can do is just stay away, make up lies of why i cant hang out, slowly stop texting him, i mean maybe it's not the best thing but its either i do this and try and force these feelings down or i tell him and ruin everything. this is better, or at least that’s what i keep telling myself.

☆ °:. *₊ ° . °

nick 🫶

| wanna hang out today? haven’t seen you in forever, i’m boredddd

| i know i’m sorry, but i cant today, really really sorry. still not feeling good

| that’s okay, hope you feel better though 💕 if you need anything tell me okay?

| i’d rather hang out with you and get sick then spend one more second with my idiot brothers over here 💀

i stare at the message on my screen, i’m not sick, i’m just trying to be a good friend… by avoiding my best friend… sure, whatever.

i slam down my phone on my mattress, rolling over and burying my face in my pillow. muffled screams from my mouth as tears, start to pour from my eyes. every time i message him, saying i cant hang out i immediately regret it. i want to see him, i always do but again, i cant, i fucking cant. it would only make my feelings stronger and i just need to get rid of them as soon as i can so things can just go back to how they were.

fuck, here comes the spiral that ive been replaying in my head forever. do i even really like him? am i really bi, gay, straight, whatever the fuck? i don’t even know, it’s all too confusing and stressful right now. why can’t i just be me? and have my best friend with me again? actually hang out with him, see him?

all i can really do right now is continue screaming and crying into my pillow about how much of a shitty friend i’m being, great. I constantly stalk his instagram, trying to see if i do really like him and try to see what he’s up to without me, i miss him so much.

…i wish he was a girl then i would be straight and all this shit wouldn’t hurt so much. i’m not trying to say that being gay is bad, all i’m saying is that it would be easier to figure all this out if i was straight and he was a girl. i know that’s so messed up to say but i don’t know how else to put it.

if he was a girl, i’d know that i’m in love with him, i wouldn’t be so afraid to accept myself because there wouldn’t be anything to accept. i’d just be me and he’d she’d be him her, i’d get to be his her boyfriend and we’d be a happy couple. i’d be happy and i wouldn’t have to push the person i love most in this stupid world away…

i smash my face into my silky white pillowcase over and over, shaking my head as i force the sides of the pillow into my face more. i want to suffocate.

i scream into my pillow more and more. ‘i love you nick, i love you nick, i love you. i DONT love you nick, i DONT love you nick, i DONT love you… but i do, i really really do, but i cant… i really really fucking cant.’

°:. *₊ ° . ☆

i stay rotting in my bed, spiraling about random shit, taking random quizzes of ‘am i gay?’ or ‘am i in love with my bestfriend?’ or ‘is it a crush?’ like i know.

soft blankets cover me, my silky pillows supporting my back as i rewatch rupaul's drag race on my computer until i finish it again, oreos and empty dr pepper cans surround me. and of course, nick always in my mind, everything reminding me of him, those stupid quizzes, his favorite show, his favorite drink. i wish he could be here, like how we used to hang out before i started ruining everything but i could be ruining it more, at least im keeping my mouth shut.

every once and a while, a message from nick pops up. him sending me a tiktok or telling me about how spacecamp is going or just something random, asking how im doing, if im still sick. most times i try to ignore him, turning off the notifications but i answer sometimes, only one or two words, maybe just an emoji, just trying to say something. i don’t want him to think i hate him or anything, i still of course love him.

the only time i ever get up from my bed is to go the the bathroom or get more food, ive been wearing the same two sweatpants alternating them and random shirts that i throw on the floor after i wear them for enough. my hair shaggy and a scratchy stubble on my face. i look and feel gross. i didnt think that forcing my best friend away and trying to figure out my sexuality could make me this depressed, who knew.

☆ °:. *₊ ° . °

weeks pass of me ignoring (or at least trying to ignore) nick and weeks of screaming into my sheets and sleeping all day become more and more. i finally decide to leave my apartment and stock up on some random things that will help me rot in my room even more: coffee, chips, oreos, whatever else i might want.

as i scan the aisle for dr pepper, standing in my gray hoodie with the hood covering me and one of the two sweatpants i’ve been wearing on, i hear a voice at the end of the row calling to me, “y/n?” my head turns to see who knows me that’s here, about to see how disgusting i look and just my luck, it’s nick.

“nick” a bright smile floods my face, i haven’t seen him for what seems like forever, i look at his blonde hair with grown out brunette roots, plus that signature nose ring and star earrings, of course he looks great.

he runs up to me, giving me a warm hug as he smiles too, “oh my god i haven’t seen you in decadessss” he exaggerates, laughing at me, “you feeling better now?” i tilt my head a little, confused but then i remember my lie. “oh yeah, i am. even though i dont look it” i try to scoff a laugh, looking down at myself, excusing how ‘i dont care’ i look right now.

“you look fine.” he laughs back again, “you know… me, chris and matt were gonna go out for dinner soon, wanna come?” i can tell he really wants me to be there and i really want to but i try to push it away, still.

“uhhh, i think had something later, sorry” my small smile slowly fading as his does too, i don’t think i’ve seen his smile leave that fast. “really? we haven’t talked in weeks, i miss you” he jokes a little, but really we do miss each other.

“i know, i’m sorry, but i promise we’ll hang out soon yeah?” i try to fake a small smile, trying to make this a little better but nick still looks sad, “yeah okay, see you later then?” he looks like he hates me, he looks just annoyed, hurt. i feel terrible.

“yeah, later” i’m about to walk closer to give him another hug but he leaves, to i assume go find his brothers, before i can. i’m terrible.

i finish up grabbing my things before leaving and driving off, replaying our interaction in my head. i could’ve just went? it was one dinner, that’s all. not a big deal. but it’s too late, it would just be weird if my schedule suddenly cleared up now.

°:. *₊ ° . ☆

i make my way back to my apartment, putting my bags down on the counter before going straight to my room again, flopping down on top of the pile of blankets and stuffed animals that cover my bed.

i dig in my pocket for my phone, taking it out as i grab a blanket to pull it over my face, closing off the sun that shines through my window.

i go straight to me and nicks messages, thinking of texting him. ‘i’m sorry’ too short, plain. ‘sorry, i was wrong i can go’ feels like i���m pitying him, plus just dumb. ‘i love you’ yeah definitely not. ‘come over? sorry’ again, stupid and he can NOT see the mess i have over here.

i decide on nothing and put my phone to the side of me, burying my head into my pillows again, tears flooding my eyes again again again. it’s too much. this is all stupid and i need to get over it all. this is terrible.

i go back to my cycle of curling up in warm blankets, eating my now new oreos and dr pepper and rewatching shows i’ve seen a million times before. and obviously stalking nicks instagram, he posted a story of him and his brothers at dinner. he’s still wearing those earrings and that same beige jacket he was wearing before, and he still looks great.

i swipe up, about to message him. ‘you look great, sorry i couldn’t come’ i quickly delete it and just like the story. i need to stop trying to message him when i’m trying to ignore him.

₊ ° .☆ °:. *₊

after falling asleep shortly after i finished looking at nicks story i wake up to like five texts from who? nick, of course.

nick 🫶

| are you ignoring me?

| like did i do something or what?

| are you okay?

| can we just talk or hang out please?

| y/n?

| okay sorry actually, never mind

my heart drops, i feel so TERRIBLE. nick did nothing and i never want him to think that he did something wrong. he’s perfect.

i pick up my phone to respond but honesty i don’t know if i should… i want him to know that he did nothing but he’s right about me ignoring him… fuck this. i just ignore him, still.

i shut off my phone fast and roll to my other side, curling up my legs and staring at the small textured bumps on the off-white wall that i face. i take in every detail, trying to distract myself with something else. i spot all the tiny discolorations or stains on the wall, the way it all starts to blur when tears, again, rain out my eyes.

they drip on the curves of my cheeks and lips, my hands are tucked under my legs as he tears drop onto my sheets, i don’t bother wiping them off. they make a small circle ish shape when it hits on my bed with a darker gray on my gray sheets.

my spiraling hits again when the ridges on my wall go dark as my eyes close. why can’t my best friend just be my best friend? why can’t i just be a normal person? why can’t i just forget it all? why can’t this all just go away? why? why? why? why?

☆ °:. *₊ ° . °

taglist : @slutforchriss @mattsleftnipple03 @mattsdinosweater @ccolleenn @mixvchelle @leah-loves-lilies @sturn-wrld @redz0nez9 @cheriematt @freshloveforthefit @nickuniversity @whore4matt @txssvx @will-yummy

[honeygrahambitch]

God i love every single thing about Mizumono. From the clock ticking noises in the background which keep you on edge to the facial expressions of every single one of the characters. Everyone did a magnificent job with alternating fear, pain, rage, regret and betrayal. Special mention for Will's face when Hannibal touches him and Hannibal's face when Will says "I already did."

Even the fucking decor is chef's kiss. Their clothes. Every blood stain. Will's wet hair. The blood on Hannibal's face. The way he holds him. The way he holds him while he is bleeding. Showing him one last bit of bitter-sweet affection.

The dialogue. The dialogue is AHHH.

"You were supposed to leave."

"We couldn't leave without you."

(...)

Fate and circumstance have returned us to this moment. When the teacup shatters

(...)

I gave you a rare gift but you didn't want it

Didn't I

(...)

You would deny me my life

No. Not your life, no.

AND BLOODFEST. BLOODFEST WILL FOREVER HUNT ME.

Oh and let's not forget little easter eggs like the fact that Will drops his gun on purpose cause he realizes he doesn't deserve to defend himself and that Hannibal should punish him however he pleases. And we should also mention Hannibal picking up Will's jacket <3

The way Will's desperate pleas when he realizes Hannibal would kill Abigail.

And if you are not yet bowling your eyes, let me remind you of how Hannibal could have run away the night before when he smelled Freddie on Will. But nope, he had decided to stay. To hope until the very last second that Will would change his mind.

And another special mention I want to make it's for a scene that has always hit hard for me. When Jack enters the kitchen.

I want to thank you, Dr. Lecter, for your friendship.

The most beautiful quality of a true friendship is to understand and be understood with absolute clarity.

Then this is the clearest moment of our friendship.

[mermaidsirennikita]

I'm finally getting into historical romance after avoiding it for too long. Weirdly, this is because of Bridgerton, even though the show is often boring and the books feel as old as they are. Can you help me find overtly feminist books with sex scenes that are meaningfully connected to the characters and/or the plot. I enjoy fic, but I want the exact opposite of it when I'm reading a novel. Thanks!

Sure!

Scarlett Peckham is a great starting point here. Her books are on the more creative side re: sex scenes (by which I mean mildly kinky lol but also INTENTIONALLY kinky, as in the characters know what kink is) but she's very interested in the movements around them and come from diverse backgrounds. Her recently-concluded Society of Sirens trilogy is about a group of friends who campaign for women's rights, etc; what makes it more interesting to me than say Evie Dunmore books (I'll be honest, not a big fan of those, and they WILL get recommended to anyone who asks for feminist historical romance) is that the heroines legitimately come from different walks of life. One of them is a "rakess" who's basically a high class lady gone rogue; one of them is a biracial heiress; one is a courtesan who actually doesn't hate sex work but also can acknowledge its pros and cons.

This series also has some of the more consistently... I don't wanna say "beta" heroes, but none of them are alpha males and they're also not straightforward "cinnamon rolls".

Sarah MacLean has a great ongoing series called Hell's Belles about a group of female friends who fuck shit up for the sake of helping women who need them. The most recent book hits on the subject of abortion rights especially, which I looove. All MacLean books are written with feminism in mind, but this series is probably the most explicitly feminist.

Joanna Shupe is another author I'd blanket recommend on that level. Her Uptown Girls trilogy has a heroine, for example, who wants to open a casino for women and hits on things like an "unconventional" happily ever after (i.e., one where being together and happy forever doesn't necessarily mean marriage and babies.... people HATED that Florence and Clay were like "oh we're just gonna fuck each other and not have kids for the rest of our lives" and I liiiived).

Her Fifth Avenue Rebels series is also quite feminist, both casually and more politically. Our first book has a tennis playing heroine, and the last focuses on a heroine who spends a lot of her free time providing birth control to poor women, while also being upfront about her sexuality, the fact that she's had an abortion and doesn't regret it, the damage the Comstock Act caused... Also, her hero is completely in awe of her. I WOULD recommend reading this series in order, as they're all good and that last book is at its best when you see the buildup of the leads beforehand.

Grace Callaway definitely has a lighter tone... while actually hitting on some pretty dark shit... But if you want something that's feminist, super sexy, and kinda campy, Lady Charlotte's Society of Angels is literally Victorian Charlie's Angels with a female "Charlie". There is a lot of sex in these books, but I find it really fun and about getting the characters to bond. She also gets into subject matter that a lot of (white) authors don't... Like the Opium Wars.

Beverly Jenkins, of course, is one of the best out there. Her characters are more quietly feminist, but it's kind of an obvious part of the stories because she's not interested in white society at all. She also writes excellent female friendships and familial relationships. I'd recommend trying Forbidden (the Black heroine goes out west and becomes a cook, falls for a rich white man, thinks they can't be together, is unaware that he actually is NOT white and is the son of an an enslaved woman and a plantation owner who left the South and is now passing) or To Catch a Raven (really fun heist-y romance that involves the THEFT OF THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE) to start, though Indigo is my favorite of hers.

Diana Quincy writes really fun, feminist-streaked romance novels, some of which star Palestinian characters. Her most recent book is The Duke Gets Desperate and I fucking loved it. An American businesswoman inherits a castle and shows up like "Okay but we need to start hosting paid tours here because otherwise it's a money pit and I'm selling" while the duke who insists she did not actually inherit gasps in horror because you can't! Host! Tours! IN A CASTLE!!!!

Hotel of Secrets by Diana Biller is a great one. The heroine is the third generation to run this hotel in Vienna after her grandmother and mother did. They've also been consistently officially single (her grandmother actually has a female partner and her mother is a rich man's mistress) and illegitimate. The heroine is very independent, has no shame about her sex life, and is both funny and practical... Then people start trying to kill her and the strait-laced undercover American spy who's been at the hotel has to save her. Also he's a virgin. Fast-paced, funny, super romantic, and very unconventional.

Minerva Spencer has an entire trilogy about a group of women who perform in a circus—The Wild Women of Whitechapel. Very feminist, very fun, there's dueling and boxing and men who are very happy to be with women who could step on them.

Definitely get into Adriana Herrera's Las Leonas series—it's about a group of friends who leave the (now) Dominican Republic for Paris. You get everything from birth control to Lesbian Paris discussed, as well as tons of romance, fingerbanging on the Eiffel Tower, and more.

[dross-the-fish]

Hello, I love your artwork and your characterisation, the former is gorgeous and the latter is compelling. I was wondering what are the big regrets of the characters/what action/s of their haunt them the most.

Thank you! I had to think about it a bit but here are the biggest regrets for some of our crew members. Edward/Henry: really depends on what form he's in, Henry has a lot of regrets about the things Edward does but once he's Edward he's not really sorry anymore. There is one regret that's universal and that's how much he's lied to Utterson and hidden from him and causing Lanyon's death. Fucking up his best and only friendships will haunt him forever. Erik: regrets everything he's done to Christine, he's not really over her but he recognizes the hurt he caused and he actually does feel sorrow over hurting her. Adam: Regrets every life he's taken. Regrets pursuing Victor when he should have just given up and tried to make his own way. He struggles with vengeful urges and tries to resist them now but the deaths of William, Justine, Henry, Elizabeth and Victor weigh on him heavily and he'll always feel grief when he remembers them. Lawrence: regrets saving that woman from the werewolf, regrets not being nicer to his parents when he had them, regrets not telling them he loved them. He struggles every day to live with the knowledge that his first transformation cost him his entire family.

Selma: Regrets both of her marriages, even if she liked her second husband in the beginning, it wasn't enough, she was not made to be someone's wife and the relationship wasn't worth burying a stillborn child. She regrets walking out on him while he was still grieving and she regrets feeling conflicted about motherhood but even if she feels she didn't do the morally right thing she did the correct thing by disappearing.

Theo: Theo has days where she wishes Varney had let her perish because being a vampire brings her a lot of suffering but she can't really regret being alive. She does regret that she cut off what few friends and family after her turning, without giving them a chance to understand what happened, but she also feels she didn't have much choice in the matter. She regrets her moments of cowardice where she didn't step in to help someone who needed her because she was too afraid for herself.

[synthizedarchive]

i'm not going to put this on the @solarisdog account as me and @scratchizm have already flooded the blog with our story enough. it's not about me, it's about other people that have suffered and come forward in order to share their awful experiences. but i'm just writing this anyway. maybe someone is checking my account. maybe it's just for me to vent.

it's clear that will never get an apology for what has happened to me. not for what matters. i don't care that i had racism, i don't care that i was accused of content theft and lore stealing, i don't care about having ''problematic faceclaims'. i care about what would actually be classed as a fucking crime. being labelled a stalker, abuser, and groomer. that i will be always be labelled the stalker and obsessed, which it's actually the reversal. that my partners will be forever labelled as ''DID real'' rather than actual tangible human-contact reality.

the amount of PTSD and trauma i have from them is unreal, and i wish i could put this into proper words of how this has affected me since 2021 ( i believe ). my partners can attest to the way my mental state was affected but only I know the feelings that have churned in my gut for all these years.

i'm the ''obsessed'' that comes from me seeing their blog two-three years ago in my FYP, and wanting to reconnect. that i'm so fucking traumatized by rejection sensitivity and ADHD problems or whatever ( and knowing even back then of the ghosting they do without any care or empathy ) , that i sent an anon saying i missed them. before we got into a extremely close friendship - but they say was a relationship. messenging solaris was the worst thing i have ever done in my entire life and i don't say that lightly. trying to reconnect and just be a fucking friend to someone whose content and lore i enjoyed?? the worst regret of my life.

i'm sitting here crying again over a person who is ten years younger than me. how sad and pathetic am i, honestly. solaris will never understand the feeling of what it is truly like to be stalked, obsessed over, manipulated, abused bc this is MY experience. not theirs. they are the stalker and obsessed, not me.

what is it about me that made me such an easy target to this planned level of orchestrated abuse? i just don't understand. it breaks me.

only a handful of people on this site, i can assume, will truly know what it feels like to have your every movement monitored. your every blog - that not even cheezbot has the chance to like posts on yet - thrown out to the wolves within seconds of making it. personal blogs attacked. even when i try to heal my trauma by creating a villain in my story called 'the stalker' ( which lasted all of 5 minutes before it made me feel sick again ), which was actually my wife's idea, i'm labelled as insane. this situation HAS made me lose my mind, on so many levels.

and i'll never get an apology for that. and it really hurts. other people get apologies so easy. whether they accept it or not is up to them. but where is my closure? maybe i'm selfish. but i know what i 100% am - and that is fucking broken by this whole experience.

myself, my loved ones, my friends, they know the truth but for me that will never be enough to actually having your abuser admit fault. no matter how much i tell the truth of my story, it will forever be twisted whilst i have this voice. and while it is a relief to have that voice be heard by others that have experienced similar issues, i will forever be tainted by a disgusting, vicious, abusive brush. all because i cared about someone. all because i wanted to be their friend. all because i said hell no to a relationship. i'm just so regretful to have ever met them, and i'm sure a lot of other people feel the same. hindsight is an amazing thing. if i had knew, i would have never even said hello to them.

[lavenderpenumbra]

here are my au fic recs that are either oneshots or series. most common aus here are college, mob/mafia, modern.

main fic rec masterlist

[fluff] / [angst] / [fluff & angst] / [implied smut] / [smut] / [dark]

oneshots

[f & a] [s] i wanna ruin our friendship by @marvelouslizzie (celebrity au)

James “Bucky” Barnes is a famous actor who just turned 40. He’s getting old and struggling with the fact that he isn’t what he used to be. When he finally opens up to you about how he’s struggling with body image, you assure him in a very unexpected way. Things take a turn after that point.

[f & a] [s] Hot and Cold by @buckyalpine (college au)

You can’t stand him, he can’t stand you

[f & a] [s] we can make it till the end by @sinner-as-saint (modern au)

You’ve known Bucky and his family for years. Bucky’s parents were close friends of your fiancé and soon, they became your really good friends too. But then in one terrible accident Bucky lost both of his parents and you lost your fiancé. Ever since, you and Bucky became each other’s rock for the years which followed. You were there for him like family. But then, Bucky’s behaviour changes and you realise that he wants something you’re not so certain you can or should give him: your heart.

[f & a] clingy as fuck by @kinanabinks (mob au)

you overhear bucky telling sam about how clingy you are, which breaks your heart.

[f & a] [s] [d] His Most Priced Possession by @bucky-barnes-diaries (mob au)

You’re the wife of the most feared man in all of New York City, James Buchanan Barnes, the mob boss of the biggest mafia in town. Your his—his girl, his beauty, his love, his property, his most prized possession. He will torture and kill anyone who dares to make any advances on his woman, and he won’t hesitate to show them who you belong to in the most sinful way possible before their end…

[a] The 30th by Billie Eilish by @arlana-likes-to-write (modern au)

It’s been 5 months since you and Bucky official divorced. You still don’t understand what happened between you and him but a phone call from Memorial Hospital stops you in your tracks and shatters your world.

[f] [s] Sugar by @/buckyalpine (ceo!reader & college!bucky)

You take care of your sweet college baby

[f] [s] Throne by @angrythingstarlight (biker au)

He did warn you what would happen if you didn't let him enjoy his dessert.

[i.s.] Spanking by @/angrythingstarlight (mob au)

Bucky has warned his wife over and over to stop smacking his ass. He let it go the first dozen or so times, but she's running out of chances.

[f] [i.s.] Masterpiece of Art by @/bucky-barnes-diaries (mob au)

Your husband gives you an anniversary present that has you looking like a goddess—a masterpiece, perfection in every way.

[f & a] [s] A Sweeter Place by @/sinner-as-saint (mob au)

Years after a messy break-up, and now seeking stability, infamous mob boss James Buchanan Barnes finds himself reunited with an old flame of his. Instant guilt and regret wash over him when he finds out that his reckless ways back then, changed an innocent girl’s life forever.

[f] [i.s.] untitled by @/angrythingstarlight (nfl au)

You and Bucky accidentally discover one of his kinks. Now that he knows he's into that, he can't wait for you to do it again.

[f] a million summers by @/intrepidacious (modern au)

Something shifts between you and Bucky when he comes back home from college.

[f] [s] Pretty Like This by @/angrythingstarlight (mob au)

Mafia Bucky believes you look pretty when you’re screaming his name. 

[f & a] Flirting and Football by @/lovelybarnes (college au)

Bucky barnes and a college au where reader is the only one who isn’t interested in him basically

[f] [s] Soft by @/buckyalpine (mob au)

(sub space reader)

[f] Pretend by @/buckyalpine (college au)

The perfect solution to a nagging problem

[f] Easy by @jadedvibes (modern au)

An impromptu night out at a local speakeasy results in you waking up next to your crush.

[f & a] [s] You had one job by @/buckyalpine (bodyguard au)

Bodyguard Bucky has one job 

[a] The Art of Sleep by @subwaysurf45 (college au)

Bucky Barnes was known to be reckless with his health, especially when it comes to his sleep. Doing the bare minimum as a girlfriend you knew you had to make sure he was sleeping for midterms. Bucky couldn’t disagree more.

[f] [s] King in your story by @/sinner-as-saint (viking!bucky & princess!reader)

Everyone in your father’s Kingdom knows that the Vikings often raid the castle’s warehouses. They take anything they want. Food, gold, weapons. Although they never seem to hurt your subjects. But you had had enough. Given your training, and your need to defend your Kingdom, your father agrees to let you trap the Vikings and bring them in for negotiation because this habit of theirs needs to be stopped. You hated the Vikings, and you thought you always would. Until the moment you met a pair of blue eyes which made your world stand still. Bucky was the Chief of his people; muscular, rough and tumble, and arrogant. Not to mention a shameless flirt, and he got on your nerves the most. But you knew it from the very day you laid eyes on his very handsome face that no matter how hard you tried, some part of you couldn’t fully hate him, nor resist him - even if he was the rival.

[f] Muse by @/navybrat817 (artist au)

Bucky is thankful to have you as his muse.

[f] Enchanted by @buckthegrump (royal au)

Balls bore you half to death. And the suitors that come from across the lands seeking your hand in marriage all seem to have forgotten about human decency. Until one day it doesn’t seem so bleak.

[f] Happily Ever After by @redhoodssweetheart (royal au)

Bucky has a tendency to rule with an iron fist, he can be strict when it comes to the rules, but whenever you enter a room he starts to show a softer side.

[f & a] [i.s.] spilled wine by @sunmoonandeddie (royal au)

You’re nothing more than a servant who happens to warm the bed of the king.  At least, that’s what you thought you were.

[f] [i.s.] Spoiling His Girl by @/angrythingstarlight (mob au)

Bucky is only getting started.

[f] [i.s.] untitled by @/bucky-barnes-diaries (mob au)

Reader and Bucky booking a hotel for a lazy romantic weekend, most of which they spend naked. Bucky decides that they feel too comfortable to want to get up and go out for food, so Reader decides to order out for them and get dressed enough to meet the delivery person at the door. While Reader is accepting the order, Bucky wraps up in a sheet and comes up behind them, smug as both Reader and the delivery person become flustered.

[a] Barrister Beaus by@/jadedvibes (lawyer/modern au)

You and Bucky were rivals all throughout law school, but over time you became best friends and fell for each other. A miscommunication leads you to think Bucky is not interested in you so you stay friends. Bucky finally admits the truth when he sees you with another man.

[f & a] And Everything Nice by @/navybrat817 (tattooartist!bucky & baker!reader)

You visit the tattoo parlor when an uninvited guest shows up at the bakery.

[f] Soft Spot by @holylulusworld (mob!bucky & librarian!reader)

He has a soft spot for you.

[f & a] my everyday by @/pellucid-constellations (college au)

Bucky Barnes was aggressive, annoying, and—worst of all—a hockey player. Not your type. At all. But, unfortunately, your roommate. 

[f & a] [s] Yours to claim by @/buckyalpine (royal au)

Your first night with the king 

[f & a] [i.s.] untitled by @/buckyalpine (royal au)

"No one else gets to decide that, princess, no one"

[f & a] You Matter To Me by @angstysebfan (modern au)

This is based on the song “You Matter To Me” from Waitress the Musical. It’s not a replica of what happens in the play, but the words in the song.

[f & a] [s] sweetie by @wwilsonbarness (dbf!bucky)

after yet another failed date your dad’s best friend Bucky cheers you up.. 

[f] [s] drabble by @/buckyalpine (ceo!reader au)

He came by your office, hoping to take you out for a coffee break but clearly you needed a lot more than coffee. 

[f] drabble by @/buckyalpine (bodyguard au)

How was he supposed to leave you when you were so sweet and cuddly and so utterly adorably drunk. 

[f & a] [s] Not a study date by @/marvelouslizzie (college au)

You have the biggest crush on Bucky Barnes but despite all your efforts, he doesn’t seem to notice you. Can one study date change it all?

[f & a] [s] After the Fall by @/jobean12-blog (modern au)

Bucky is your first love...your first everything so when things fall apart in college over a stupid misunderstanding you’re completely heartbroken but manage to move on...that is until your past comes back in a way you least expect it. 

[f & a] protector by @vxntagedior (mob au)

the moment bucky fell in love with you

[f] [s] Jersey by @inmyicyworld (college au)

Natasha’s idea of getting a jersey with Bucky’s name turned out to be much better than you expected.

series

[f & a] Cordially Invited by @navybrat817 (modern royal au, no separate masterlist)

You're a princess in love with your knight. Will the two of you get your happily ever after?

[f & a] [s] Labyrinth by @frostironfudge (modern au)

Bucky and You would do anything for Steve and Wanda, your respective best friends. In an attempt to avoid a tradition Steve and Wanda come up with a lie involving their best friends.  A lie, that involves building a labyrinth. Bucky and You begin to build but will you two find your way out or be caught in it?

[f & a] [s] Capture my Heart part 1 & part 2 by @/buckyalpine (lumberjack au, completed)

On the run from your abusive ex, a beefy lumberjack comes to your rescue 

[f & a] moth to a flame by @tmpestuous (college au)

Bucky Barnes was the love of your life, and you were his. There was no denying it. But after two years of dating, you found yourselves on different paths and decided it was best to go your separate ways. The only problem was how drawn you’d always be to him even after moving on.

[f & a] [i.s.] Everyone’s Watching Him (But He’s Looking At Her) @writing-for-marvel (celebrity au, completed)

The entire world’s eyes are on movie star Bucky Barnes, what he’s wearing, who he’s dating, even the mystery behind why he needs a prosthetic arm - but Bucky doesn’t care about all that, he’s only got one thing on his mind, you.

[f & a] [s] jealousy & flirtation by @/kinanabinks (college au, no separate masterlist)

There's nothing you want more than Bucky Barnes - but you and his best friend, Juniper, seem to have that in common.

[f & a] [s] [d] Arranged by @the-fallen-nightmare (mob au, completed)

Reader would do anything to make her parents happy and that included agreeing to an arranged marriage. She never expected it to be to one of New York’s most feared Mob Boss: Bucky Barnes. He is anything but loving towards Reader however when her parents are mysteriously killed, Bucky makes it his mission to find out who were at fault. And in the process, ends up coming close to losing Reader.

[f & a] [s] beneath the milky twilight by @bucksangel (ceo au, completed)

Being Mr. Barnes’ personal assistant has been tough, balancing a full time job while taking care of your younger brothers has you running yourself thin. Then, things take a sharp turn after a dinner with your boss when you disclose your financial situation

[f & a] [s] Tempestuous by @/sinner-as-saint (royal au, completed)

With his kingdom flourishing in peace, and no threats from enemies; recently crowned King - James Buchanan Barnes sets out at sea. With his finest ship, the best crew ever recruited, and a deep desire to see whether the edge of the world truly exists; the King sets sail. Hoping to find the marvels of the ocean, to find beauty and magic even; however he ends up finding a fiery soul – one he cannot get enough of. But then again, no love story is ever perfect, is it? 

[f] [s] false god by @notafunkiller (celebrity au)

On the night of your movie premiere, you and director Bucky finally get closer.

[f & a] [s] [d] Moment of Weakness by @/the-fallen-nightmare (mob au, completed)

Reader is the assistant to New York’s most feared mob boss, James Buchanan Barnes. He had the picture-perfect life: status in the mob, friends, and beautiful wife. So why can’t he keep his mind and eyes off of reader?

[f] Peachy Sweet by @straywords (mob au)

Your delicious treats attract your grumpy boss’ attention.

[f] [s] Sleepless nights & Sweeter mornings by @kikixreverie (roommate au, completed)

Weeks of not being able to get off leave you restless and without sleep, and after hearing your troubles through the thin walls, your roommate, Bucky, decides to help you out.

[f & a] [s] i could've chosen you (and yes, i would) by @welldonebeca (royal au, completed)

To form an alliance with another Kingdom, your father arranges a marriage between you and James, the duke of Barnes and best friend of King Steve I of a neighbouring kingdom, and you struggle to make a relationship out of your arranged union.

[f & a] Fieldwork, Conflict Of Interest I & II by @elixirfromthestars (detective!bucky & lawyer!reader, completed)

After the many failed dates Natasha set you up on, you decide to give up on the dating scene all together. That is until Bucky makes it his mission to change your mind, but will he be enough to change it?

[f] [s] heartless 1 & 2 by @/sinner-as-saint (incubus!bucky & witch!reader)

You learnt about them when you were young. You had tomes filled with information about them, how to invite one, how to control one, etc. You also knew that if done right, union with an incubus was said to result in the birth of powerful witches. And now, after having spent years all alone following the unfortunate slaughter of your family you have two strong desires; to have a child and to continue the witch bloodline. Both of which can be fulfilled by summoning and making the right arrangements with the right incubus. And the best part of it all, incubi were known to be incapable of love and emotional attachment, so ending the arrangement once you conceived wouldn’t be hard for either parties involved. Except, it’s not always that easy, is it? And perhaps, not all incubi are heartless. 

[f] Catch Me If You Can 1, 2, & 3 by @/buckyalpine (mob!bucky & single mom!police!reader, completed)

Maybe he isn’t so bad

[f & a] [s] He's Hazardous To My Health by @/writing-for-marvel (paramedic!bucky & resident!reader)

Bucky Barnes is a beefy paramedic with a traumatic past, who has left a trail of broken hearts behind him. You are a resident doctor new to town, who barely has time to date between long shifts. When your paths cross in your ER during a disaster, is it the start of something magical, or are you destined to be just another of Bucky’s former flames?

[f & a] [s] for the love of the game by @/pellucid-constellations (college au, completed)

Bucky Barnes was a menace. NYU’s top baseball player, he was used to girls falling at his feet and could smooth talk his way out of just about anything. You hated him. He couldn’t figure out why. So when the novelty of weekend parties and quick hookups finally wore off—and his feelings for you began to grow—he made it his mission to fix it. 

[f & a] [s] Unexpected 1 & 2 by @repressedqueen (sexworker!bucky)

After a crazy night out celebrating your birthday, somehow you ended up outside a brothel debating on whether it was time for you to finally have sex or not.

[f & a] [s] Plot Twist I, II, III and bonus by @winterarmyy (mafia au)

An arranged marriage with mafia!bucky.

[f & a] [s] Purity by @/rookthorne (pornstar!bucky & innocent!reader)

Softness was a trait you unwittingly carried - the wings of a dove taking you higher and higher, elevating you in the eyes of the devil. And that devil did not want to wait any longer. It was time to collect.

© lavenderpenumbra.tumblr.com 2023

[thewanderingmask]

brain dump time

the other morning i accidentally workshopped a cartoon story concept

i already have too many story concepts

i have no plans to do anything with it

i am putting it here now

-

THE PREMISE: Cartoon bad guy squad. Team rocket style Evil organization. we focus on a branch office made of embarrassments who are extra bad at this

They wanna prove themselves to the big boss and the rest of the organization. (Extra big team rocket energy there) They’re in some unimportant outpost in a random city and they get no support. Their base is some crappy hole. They never even meet the heroes.

Team is 2-3 squad members who are fucking goons and a middle manager who actually has some skills and takes things seriously

Goon A "Audrey": feral.

Goon B "Basilisk": fancy.

Goon C "Clint": mad scientist

The manager seems competent because he’s serious but actually isn’t super good at being in charge. gets easily wound up, that kind of thing

They get cartoon tools and ray guns and mostly fuck up with them or use them on each other

Squad starts with 2-3 goons then they gain a new one later

The new one is a nepo baby who really wants to be evil and got shoved out here because like the others they’re a goddamn embarrassment and this is a way to keep them out of trouble

Turns out they’re actually really good at being Evil with a capital E. something no one else on this squad has the stomach for

I think a season arc would be the nepo baby coming in and getting razzed by the og squad who are relishing the power of seniority until they get shown up. then they want the new guy gone. Then nepo baby reveals they’re actually Evil beyond cartoon goon squad boundaries and stage a coup on the manager. The goons follow along because well this new guy IS real competent so they’re finally gonna get recognized and respected and also nepo baby scares them

But it turns out none of the goons have the stomach to do something like murder a kid when ordered to, and they realize oh no with a competent boss they have to do real work, and really maybe they just liked screwing around and posturing the way things were before

So they have to team up with a washed up good guy to save their imprisoned manager and take down their genuinely evil new boss

Washed up good guy is one of those characters who betrayed the good guy team but lived to regret it so now he hides out here in nowhere town and depressions his way through the days

Lives in a run down trailer, avoids human contact, still gets some hate when he’s occasionally recognized

Anyway the baddies go to him because they decide they need a good guy to fight a real villain and he’s all there is within bus fare distance

They get him on board with helping by being idiots who will clearly die without help

Also he wants an act of redemption because he lost everything by betraying his original team and now he just really wants people to stop hating him

So he tells them how villains usually fuck up: by having plans with poor logistics or by getting emotionally involved and not thinking logically. ...These are both things our main character goons do, but the new villain doesn’t. So the only other thing villains do that leads to their downfall is underestimate their opponents. Usually some kind of power of friendship thing because villains don’t have friends. The protagonists try the power of friendship in a test run. It doesn’t work.

Ex hero eventually has an epiphany that yes these people suck at everything they're typically ASKED to do, but they have weird unique strengths in specific areas. So it’s about using those. like the power of hair care and makeup can be used to make disguises, feral brute strength can work if aimed at the right wall to break down.

They make a plan to rescue their old manager using these tactic and despite looking like a disaster it actually goes as planned. They get him out. Originally they are just planning on running away forever now but the manager, who incidentally has real injuries from his imprisonment, says there’s a worse plan happening that’ll kill the whole town for Real

And the team is originally still going to run away actually

But for ENTIRELY SELFISH REASONS they eventually realize how much they don’t want that to happen

Goon A is territorial, goon B’s arbitrary personal code is offended, manager has a bone to pick and a chip on their shoulder, and the ex hero still wants to do something that’ll get him back in with the heroes

So they make their plan and it’s one of those situations where it seems like it’s working right up until they reach the macguffin at which point the bars drop and the lights come on to show the villain, who has correctly estimated all of them. And He let them get this far because he thought it would be funny

you know, to crush them

and i think the third goon, mad scientist goon C, was the most ambitious and seemingly the most reasonable. and when the villain mutiny'd on the manager, C was the one who bowed their head and joined him

so the villain totally monologues about how he correctly summed up everyone and their critical faults, because again, it's fun to crush these people. and how the villain didnt want them to just run away and live, because then he couldnt kill them in front of C. because C still cares about the others. so he fed the manager info on his plan and let them break the guy out. and now hes gonna kill everybody with his macguffin plan and he knows C wont do anything to stop it, because they're too selfish to defy him. and the villain just wanted to hurt them all one more time before killing them (except C, whose reward for betraying his team is to live having watched them die)

anyway so then C shoots the villain with a gun

then theres a showdown and at the climax all the goons unite, and some kinda thing happens where theres a glimmer of power that flows through them and protects them from a fatal blow, and no one except the ex good guy notices the and goes "wait, is that-" and then the manager punches the villain in the face

then the superweapon laser death beam is about to go off and while theyre arguing over where to point it they accidentally set it to blow up the building theyre in

so everybody books it and the last thing the villain does, as he's left to bleed out on the floor of an exploding building, is stare up in disbelief and then just start laughing at the absurdity as the whole place goes up

in the epilogue, the team manage to fucking lie about everything that happened to the main office. this flies at the exact same time as their stuff was happening the heroes attacked and defeated the high council so now the power structure is in shambles

so they basically get told "whatever just stay there and dont cause any trouble"

so as far as theyre concerned its back to business as usual, which is all they wanted in the first place

pushing over old ladies and kidnapping small dogs

stealing candy from a literal baby

getting their asses beat by literally any given random citizen

stealing things

getting wacky machinery and misusing it

everybody just agrees unspokenly to pretend nothing happened with C

the manager is back in charge and wants the ex hero to help them. ex hero says no way i only helped because i wanted the good guys to want me again. but also he keeps getting roped in from then on. the goons just start Showing Up at his place and raiding his fridge

-

so yeah

[katyspersonal]

When I blew up at A after she defended a person who harassed me and my friends, I apologized to her not even a day later, very genuinely and owning up to how she didn't need my shit, unprompted by anything but just feeling guilty and then when it seemed that she didn't forgive me and stopped interacting, I apologized again and broke mutuals to leave her alone. And not only she didn't forgive me - she faked being cool with me, she has been faking it for like 40 days, she lied in my face that she didn't blame me and only has been interacting less because of "being busy and fandom-shifting" and then as soon as she saw a chance to get rid of me when her ableist fujo friend threw a fit about me, she just backstabbed us. In a vile way, like a rat, walking behind my back and finally throwing me under the bus, believing that she saw the last of me and so she would not have to play the role of "understanding and forgiving" person when in reality her ego is so fragile she could not take the L of ONE negative interaction. Not the first time someone sees me as a tumor on an otherwise healthy body and is desperate to cut me off from my friends/community/whatever.

But when she "apologized" to me, she only did that when it became apparent that I didn't leave and nor my friends were okay with her betrayal, she was prompted by learning that I vented about her in my blog and not by actual regret, her apology was fake as fuck with the whole "well but you can see where I came from you made me uncomfy by liking me TOO much anyhow it is not healthy because online friendships are not real uwu :((((((" and she did not even have the balls to let me react and talk it all out, blocking me instantly after that DM. Yet when I of course did not accept this, she got mad at me for making it harder for her or shit like that. Did not help that she kept LYING. She said Alfred-chan was not the one harassing us because "well I messaged them and they said they didn't do that :(" (something tells me you will never become a detective, A) but when the truth was exposed A claimed that she always knew it were them? Then when she seized the chance to get rid of me without consequences and betrayed us but I didn't leave, she pretended that she "only wanted the truth".

I really hate the ongoing insult for my intelligence like I don't see whats up. I hate how she believed my friends would be okay with her betrayal. I hate how she tried to gaslight about "I just cut off a person that made me uncomfortable" when betrayal ain't it lol. She had ONE job: if learning that I was angry and hurt more than one time in my life was ooh-so-eye-opening, she could have just DMed me that "listen, if lashing out is something that might keep happening, I don't want to be mutuals anymore, bye" and all. Nobody forced to forgive me, nor my friends would force her to like me if she didn't. But she HAD to be a vicious snake, she was EAGER to finally push me off the cliff as soon as her fujo friend made it look like acceptable thing to do. But okay, some people lack psyop immunity, fine. She still had a chance to both apologize genuinely AND to not fucking lie to look smarter. Cowardly rat!

I just hate how strongly this situation got to me. Like... It just comes back to me when I make someone uncomfortable on accident or am rude, because after what A did I just expect that this person will never forgive me. Like, what is the point of apologizing or explaining myself? If they will NOT forgive me, if clearly I just retroactively ruined all our previous positive interactions and now they will feign being "chill" just to one day ditch me, instead of being straightforward about not being able to forgive me. But I hate it. I hate now perceiving everyone /I/ have wronged even a little bit as an enemy and a liar, that will forever have ill will towards me now. I just don't believe in people's ability to forgive or understand anymore, all because of that rat. And that hostility just makes me worse the moment I realize I made a mistake, I just want to block this person, or to yell at them to go ahead and show me that they hate me now. I just wish it could heal somehow... But, unfortunately, it is not something a time heals. It is one of those things that are only healed by certain circumstance and until then it is just there. Like a fireplace that will get fuel thrown into it, whether I want it or not. Maybe my rule to not forgive people who are not sorry is not helping.. I don't know, I just don't know.

[thoughtsaladblog]

WTF?!

I'm currently trying to wrap my mind around this thing that makes no sense whatsoever... How am I bad at this and somehow he's managing to fucking send me reeling.

Hands down, that was one of the best f**ks I've had in a while. I'm dying here... And this is the weirdest thoughts I've ever had post-s*x...but I'm honestly jealous of all the women who get to do it right with him. I mean yeah I got this...but this isn't really your typical hot and steamy, bodies writhing kinda sex- not in any way because he's not good at what he does. I mean, kudos to him, the dude really puts his back into it. Hallelujah!

But what I mean is... it's all so mechanical and clinical and held back by the fear of crossing a boundary that maybe shouldn't be crossed (although at this point I wonder what boundaries are left to cross....). But getting back to my point- I mean that this lacks the sexy that comes with good sex. This is a good fuck- that's what it is. But it ain't sex. And the thing is- if his fucking is on this level- at this stage, mind you- then imagine what his sex game will be? I envy the women who get to find out the answer to that question.

I truly can't help but picture it in my head, because I already know he matches my sexual energy- so fucking much. This dude, has the level of game I used to bring to the art before I was let down by the men I encountered. This dude is the vibe I fucking longed for since shit ended between myself and C. Given the opportunity I know we'd fucking blow each others' minds- but the harsh reality is that that's about as likely as Melania Trump becoming queen of England. There's no reality in which we get to explore that and find out- unless somewhere down the line, 5 years from now we've somehow managed to remain friends and decide to re-explore these avenues... Until such a day, it will remain a secret truth I will carry in my heart- regretting forever that we were born at the wrong time. Such is the bane of existence. Everything, from our friendship to the fun but casual and wild endeavours that we could've explored remain at the brink of our existence- so visible yet too far to ever touch. *insert loud defeated sigh here*

And then what about myself?? How is my game so bad?? I mean like wtf?? I still haven't managed to blow his mind? Or rather I did it once and never again?? Come on! I can't believe I haven't yet managed to get him off. What's going on Shenelli?? How am I failing at this?? And NO, I'm not going to take that. I need to accomplish this goal somehow before the dude leaves- I can't be the girl who couldn't get off a first-timer. That's a whole other level of pathetic... And even more so when his fucking D*ck game sends me reeling off the edge and dripping down my legs. ok... Focus. We have a mission. Sure, you can't have the hot and steamy, but you still have a mission to accomplish and we ain't giving up until you blow him and simultaneously blow his mind.

You've got a month. Get to work!

P.s: Even I don't know why this had to be so graphic- but trust me when I say I was holding back even with this.

[iliveinabarbieworld]

Daddy issues? - Am I too old for that?

The harsh truth about me is something I don’t want to say out loud, but I’ll say it anyway because therapy is expensive, and blogging is my only way to release what’s on my mind to feel less lonely. I know no one will read this, but I hope that someday I’ll share it with someone who cares about me and accepts my thoughts, even if they think they’re wrong. I just want someone to read my thoughts without judgment and understand that I’m just a girl living in a crazy world, trying to get through each day with emotions that I’m doing my best to control.

My father doesn’t want to take care of me because I’m too much to handle, and he can’t make me follow whatever it is he wants. He’s been an absent father for as long as I can remember. I constantly crave his love and affection, wishing he could be there to treat me like a princess, protect me from the cruelty of the world, and provide for me so I could live a comfortable life. But that’s not my reality. If only he had been with me as I was growing up—especially during my teenage years and early twenties—I might have made different choices. I don’t regret my past, but I think things would have been very different if I had felt his presence.

He gave me gifts to try to make me follow his rules, rules that made him look like a responsible father and boosted his image. Maybe he thinks that’s the right thing to do. He really believes he’s a responsible and good provider. He gave us what we needed, and I’m forever grateful for that. Though he wasn’t physically present, he made sure to chat with us, let us know he existed, and occasionally offered advice and hope to keep us going. I suppose that should be enough, and I shouldn’t expect more from him. I need to stop dreaming of the perfect father figure I wish he could be and just love him for who he is, appreciating what he can offer. I know he’s trying, and I know he’s confused, sad, and lonely too. But as his child, I can’t help but want more from him, and I feel guilty for that. Don’t get me wrong—I love him unconditionally and appreciate everything he’s done for us. I respect him and think highly of him. He’s my hero. I wouldn’t be who I am today without all he’s endured.

He’s with someone now, and I hate it. I can’t accept that he’s acting so righteous. I think too highly of him to see him as just another human being trying to survive loneliness. That’s why it hurts to see him in this situation, not with his family, but with his “friend,” his ex-girlfriend, while still married. He makes everyone, including the people from church, believe they’re just friends. For fuck’s sake, be honest! The lies are killing me. Why can’t they admit they’re in love and fight for it? My father says he’s already married to my mom, and he should keep his promise to God and honor the words he gave to her parents, which I truly admire but also question. How can he claim to be honoring those promises while still emotionally involved with his ex under the guise of friendship? I don’t want to participate in that messed-up situation. The world is confusing enough without us making it more complicated by not being honest with ourselves.

It's a show that I can’t understand, and I don’t even know how to process it. I don’t want to participate in it because it confuses me and makes me question everything. He’s not being honest with his own feelings and emotions because he’s considering many things. I guess I can’t fully understand this now because I’m not yet married or a parent. I know he’s trying to prevent even more damage to protect our family and everyone’s reputation, including his ex’s—friend?—whatever they want to call it. But as their child, it’s confusing for me. Everything is confusing.

I should start focusing on myself rather than on my parents or anyone else’s business. I need to be part of the solution, not create more drama and confusion. I’ll help my parents by focusing on my own life, making sure I’ll be okay, and writing my own story based on what I’ve learned from life and our family’s situation. Hopefully, I won’t make the same mistakes they did and will create a better life for myself and, if I have children, for the future generation. I hope it will be far better than what my parents have endured.

[kalitheaa]

Don’t shit where you eat

YOU ARE IS SO FUCKING WEIRD????

FLOWERS??

MONTHS LATER???

NO

LEAVE ME ALONE

I HATE THAT I HAD TO BE FUCKING NICE TO YOU

IM ALWASY PREACHING ABOUT NOT APOLOGIZING FOR A MAN AND I HAD TO HOLD MYSELF BACK BECAUSE OF YOUR FEELINGS????

THAT WAS SO UNFAIR HOW YOU’D MAKE ME CHANGE MY BELIEFS BECAUSE WHAT? YOU SAID A FEW PRETTY WORDS??

BULLSHIT

I DONT FUCKING WANT THAT

I DONT WANT YOU

I DONT WANT ANYTHING OR ANYONE LIKE YOU

GOOD FUCKING BYE AND GOOD RIDDANCE

I HOPE YOU STAY IN THAT CITY FOREVER

NEVER COME BACK

That’s not the type of person I want to be with or associate with

And you know what? I enjoy flirting with a million different people. I enjoy having the options. I enjoy the validation. I enjoy the friendships that come with the after. I enjoy the lore that it gives me, that Im able to gossip with my friends after.

Will I pick one of them? Maybe. Maybe not but it’s my choice.

It’s my choice how slow or fast I want to go.

Im never going to dull myself for someone again. Im never going to allow anyone to force me to dim myself like I felt that I had to with you.

It was barely a month.

Absolutely ridiculous.

You said he was in love with me? That I was your person? That I brought you peace?

IN FOUR WEEKS?

THATS NOT HOW IT WORKS!

And here you might think “oh sweet” NO

YOU BROKE UP WITH HIS GIRLFRIEND TWO WEEKS BEFORE YOU STARTED TALKING TO ME

And please don’t get me started on the fucking ex girlfriend...

Why do men tell you all these things about their ex’s to just mix up the stories that, truly, you wouldn’t know about unless HE had told you.

In what world am I in?

Are you okay?????

This isn’t a fucking romance novel or a Netflix special. We aren’t in fucking Bridgeton. You don’t burn for me.

You got out of a long term relationship, that probably was in a weird limbo, because I know y’all are still in contact at least somewhat. And you missed that feeling of being someone’s partner so you latched onto me when you found out I was into you and tried to mold me into who you wanted your person to be like.

Well no.

Sorry.

Thats not me.

I like taking photos in bikinis if I want too.

I like hitting a vape occasionally and getting shit faced with my friends.

I like watching stupid shows that have no substance.

I like having stupid conversations about nothing with people I love.

I LIKE SMALL TALK YOU DONT HAVE TO ASK ME WHAT MY BIGGEST INSECURITY IS RIGHT AWAY! RED FLAG BUDDY!

I understand you’re lonely and you want someone but that person is not me. And I really do not want to be that person for you.

In the literal month that we were dating, I thought about how to break it off with you more than seeing a future with you.

You cannot make me into your person. You need some time to figure out yourself.

I am over you.

Truly I am. I don’t mourn our relationship, I regret it actually.

You weren’t mean or evil and you didn’t hurt me and I didn’t spend weeks and weeks crying over what we could’ve had.

Truly, I cried for maybe an hour before I made that phone call, then laughed on mute when I was on the phone with you. That was evil, I know.

Maybe I just didn’t believe you anymore.

The act just didn’t fool me but I think it fooled yourself.

I think you really believed in the insanity you were spewing. In the stories you fabricated, even though you couldn’t keep them straight and they were getting more twisted as you blubbered on.

I regret us because you’ve tainted a part of my story that I really enjoyed. Realizing friends that I made while I was there were more conditional on us dating rather than them actually wanting to be my friend.

I had three people in the span of a week- sorry- DAYS after the phone call ask me about us being together. YOU were the one saying be careful and not to tell a bunch of people and were asking ME who I told when you told the whole fucking building of people????

Everyone was involved dude.

I didn’t love you.

I didn’t and I’m sorry for saying it when it wasn’t true.

Honestly, I really wanted it to work out between us. You were such a nice guy and made me feel special.

But I know I can’t trust you. I did some sleuthing beforehand. I got backup to sleuth for me. I know the facts and caught your lies and mix ups. I wasn’t going to fall for it another time.

We’re not at the same places in life mentally or physically, we don’t want the same things right now. Obviously.

You wanted me to be a different person and that’s not me.

I hate that I have to be nice to you. Not that I want to be mean but it gives you hope. Thats why you sent the flowers.

Im only nice to you because we work for the same company and I’ll run into you again.

Now, either way I would never be outright mean to you. That’s not who I am - if you can believe that from this monstrosity of a thought dump.

But I don’t want you going through life thinking that you still have a chance, cause let’s be crystal clear, you do not.

Im talking to multiple people.

I’d settle down for the right person but I’m not looking.

Don’t send me flowers again.

And let this be a lesson. DONT SHIT WHERE YOU EAT.