#is that it's probably the ONE thing that you can start doing for yourself for VERY little investment

[cassandraclare]

Kit to Ty

Election day: misery, stress, hair-pulling, at least for Americans (and a lot of other people around the world affected by our politics!) So I thought I'd post a distraction; I hope it helps and doesn't annoy!

A while ago I posted the beginning of a letter from Kit to Ty, created for a Kickstarter backer. Here's the full text:

A letter from Kit to Ty, never sent.

Ty, Ty, Ty.

Your name looks strange written out like that. Like an abbreviation. But Tiberius would be so formal. I never think of you that way. Or, I suppose I should say, I never thought of you that way. Tenses matter in these situations, I guess.

It’s late, past midnight, and I’m sitting on the windowsill in my bedroom at Cirenworth. Jem and Tessa gave me one of the best rooms. Of course they did. It has a view out over the gardens. Sometimes I see the ghost of a dog there, a golden retriever I’m pretty sure, running in and out of the flowerbeds. He seems like a pretty happy ghost. I think about how much you like animals and how much they love you, because of course they do. But it’s too late; this dog passed away a long time ago. You probably couldn’t even see him. It’s too late for a lot of things, now.  

I’m still mad at you, and I don’t feel good about that. Maybe if I could forget, I could forgive. But I can’t forget that night you brought Livvy back. I’ll suddenly remember even when I’m thinking about something else. I’ll be in the middle of helping Tessa in the garden and suddenly I’ll turn around and I’m back in Idris. 

I remember I told you I loved you. I remember I told you I would help you, but not if you raised Livvy from the dead. Not if you did necromancy. But you wanted that more than you wanted me.

And I understand that. I’m not angry about that. Here’s what I’m angry about: when you brought Livvy back, you changed yourself. You made yourself a different person than the one I loved. I don’t know the person you are now. You took yourself away from me. I can’t forgive that. And you made me someone who has to keep a secret I never wanted to keep. I was raised by someone who had so many awful secrets, and when I started my life as a Shadowhunter I wanted to do it openly, and honestly. But now I’m just someone else with secrets I can never tell. Just like my dad.

It makes me angry, so angry. I want to yell at you. I wish you were here so I could yell at you.

Kit

[milkteabinniechan]

♡Sweet Like Honey - Chan

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY MEMBERSHIP//M.LIST

pairing: husband! Chan x fem! reader

summary: As if meeting your husband for the first time at the altar wasn't nerve-wracking enough, now you two are on your tropical island honeymoon and you still haven't told him you're a virgin!

warnings: fluff, virgin reader, heavy kissing, cunnilingus, beach sex, insecure reader, soft Chan

Chan sleeps peacefully for a while longer before finally stirring, his eyelids fluttering open. As he sits up, he rubs his eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of his nap. His gaze falls upon his new wife, sitting nervously in a beach chair. “Hmm, you're still here.���

You turn your attention from the ocean waves to Chan’s face, giving him a curious look. “Did you think I'd run away?”

“I was half expecting you to.” He chuckles, his voice gruff from sleep. “Considering we barely know each other, and the fact that this was all arranged.” He shrugs. “But I’m glad you didn’t.”

You let out a long sigh of relief. “That's good.” You whisper as you turn your attention back to the sand, mindlessly drawing different shapes and patterns with your finger.

Chan watches you for a moment, studying your profile. He finds himself intrigued by your quiet demeanor and the way your fingers move absently in the sand. After a while, he speaks up again, his voice softer this time. “You know, we should probably talk about some things.”

Your shoulders tense as he speaks but you keep your face turned away from him. “Like what?”

“Like the fact that I’m a bit of a workaholic.” He grimaces. “And I snore when I sleep on my back.” He ticks off his fingers as he lists his quirks. “And I’m a bit of a clean freak.”

You chuckle softly, your shoulders already falling a bit as you begin to relax more and more by the second. “Well, I can be a tad messy at times,” you confess, “and I don't eat very well.”

Chan smiles at your response. “Okay, fair enough.” He pauses for a moment before broaching the subject he’s most nervous about. “And how about...physical matters?” He swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Have you ever...?” his voice trails off but his honest eyes tell you what he's thinking without saying it. 

You shake your head slowly. Something squeezing your heart as you try to get the words out. “I've never had sex.”

His eyes widen slightly at your confession, a flicker of surprise and something else - perhaps understanding or even a touch of nervousness - crossing his face. He takes a deep breath before responding. “I see. Well, that's...okay. It's nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I'm not ashamed.” You respond quickly. And that was true. You had never been ashamed of waiting until your wedding day. But now that the day has finally arrived… “I'm just nervous.”

He nods, his expression gentle. “I understand. It's natural to be nervous about something so...intimate.” He sits up a bit straighter, his arms wrapping around his knees as he looks out at the ocean. “We can take things slow, okay? There’s no rush.”

You turn your body towards Chan. You were desperate to look into his eyes and search for any hint of malice or deception. “You mean that?” You whispered.

He turns to look at you again, his dark brown eyes meeting yours with sincerity. “I absolutely mean that.” He reaches out to gently take one of your hands in his. “This marriage may be arranged, but that doesn't mean we can't build something real together.”

Your heart swells at Chan's words. The honesty within them coats you like a warmth you had never felt before. Before you could catch yourself, you start to move towards him, your mouths just inches from one another. His breath hitches as you lean in, his heart pounding in his chest. The air between the two of you seems to still, the only sound is the distant rhythm of the ocean waves. Gently, he closes the distance, your lips meeting in a soft, exploratory kiss.

The first kiss you shared was at the altar when you said “I do.” It was so formal and uniform. But this kiss was different, more intimate. Like it was leading somewhere new. Chan deepens the kiss slowly, his hands coming up to cradle your face. His touch is gentle yet firm, coaxing you to open up to him. As the kiss becomes more passionate, he pulls you closer, so that you're sitting on his lap, your arms wrapped around his neck. Soon your hands move from his neck to his hair, letting your fingers tangle and comb through the dark locks. Your hips start to grind and move involuntarily against his lap. He breaks the kiss to bury his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. His arms tighten around your waist, stilling your hips with a low chuckle. "Easy there, sweetheart," he murmurs, nuzzling your neck. He nips gently at your neck, soothing the sting with another soft kiss. His hands roam up your back, tracing the curve of your spine through the light fabric of your nightgown. His voice is low and gruff as he speaks against your skin. “We should…”

“Yeah…?” You mumble against his neck.

“Go inside...” He trails off as your hips move against him once more, his body instinctively reacting to the innocent gesture. He groans, his forehead dropping to rest against your shoulder. “Before this goes too far on the beach.” He pulls back to look at you, his pupils dilated with desire.

You turn your head to either side, scanning the now deserted beach. The moon is now the only source of light for miles around. “Well, there isn't anyone else here.” You smirk. Your eyes were full and hopeful that Chan would get the hint. The sight of your king sized bed in that luxury suite was almost too much to bear. The thought of “performing” for the first time in a bed felt like too much pressure. But the beach…

He lets out a low laugh, his body shaking slightly beneath yours. He captures your lips in another deep kiss, his hands slipping down to your backside, squeezing gently. As the kiss deepens, he lays you back against the sand, covering your body with his own. You let out a soft whimper as your still shaking hands move across Chan’s broad chest. He captures your wandering hands in one of his own, bringing them up to his lips to place a soft kiss on your knuckles. His other hand trails down your side, fingertips grazing the edge of your nightgown. "We can stop at any time," he murmurs, his eyes searching yours.

You take a deep breath. Your eyes flicker from his lips to his eyes as the two of you breathe in unison for a moment. “I trust you.” You murmur.

Chan smiles softly at your words, a genuine warmth in his eyes. Slowly, he tugs at the hem of your nightgown, pulling it up and over your head. He takes a moment to admire your form in the moonlight, his hands skimming reverently over your dips and curves. “Beautiful.”

Your face turns a deep shade of red as Chan’s eyes roam over your naked form. Your hands move to cover your face almost reflexively.

"Don't," he says softly, gently pulling your hands away from your face. “Don’t hide from me, my love. You’re absolutely beautiful.” He leans down to capture one of your rosy peaks in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the bud. Your back lifts up and off the sand at the new sensation. Your legs already begin to spread apart from the heat that is growing. He lavishes attention on your breasts, alternating between soft suckles and gentle nips. His hand trails down your stomach, fingers splaying across your lower abdomen. He kisses a path down your body, his destination clear as he settles between your thighs. "I want to taste you,”

You bite your lip and nod your head softly. “No one has ever…”

Chan looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire and tenderness. "Then let me be the first, and the last." He dips his head, his tongue parting your folds in a slow, deliberate lick. He groans at your taste, the sound vibrating against your most sensitive flesh. He takes his time exploring you with his mouth, learning every inch of you, committing your responses to memory. He focuses on your clit, circling the bud with the tip of his tongue before suckling gently. His hands grip your hips, holding you steady as he pleasures you.

Your head falls back and presses into the sand beneath you. Your moans mix and mingle with the sounds of the waves crashing. He continues his sensual assault, alternating between long, slow licks and quick flicks of his tongue. He can feel you tensing, your thighs beginning to quake around his head. He doubles his efforts, determined to bring you to your peak. “That's it, my love…”

Your hips move in a new and unexplored rhythm against Chan's face as you work to ride out your orgasm. He holds you steady as you ride out your high, his tongue lapping up your release. He gentles his touch as you come down, placing soft kisses on your inner thighs. He crawls up your body, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

He lets out a low groan as your heat presses against the hard ridge of his arousal still confined in his pants. He reaches between your bodies to unfasten his pants, shoving them down his hips. He lifts your hips, positioning himself at your entrance. He captures your gaze, his eyes seeking yours.

Everything stopped for a moment. Even the waves seemed to silence. Like the entire world was waiting to see what you would do next. The sand still felt warm beneath your head and the towel brushed against your skin as you opened your legs wider. An open invitation for Chan to take you to that new place. For him to be your first and your last. With a gentle yet firm thrust, he buries himself inside you, stretching you in ways you never thought possible. He pauses for a moment, savoring the feeling of being completely inside you. Then he begins to move, his hips rocking against yours in a slow, deliberate rhythm. “Mine.”

You lie still at first, your entire body unsure of what was going to happen next. But the familiar sensation of pleasure washed over you again. The waves crashed against the sand again. Chan kisses you tenderly, his touch becoming slow and languid. He takes his time, his hands caressing your body as he moves inside of you with slow, deep thrusts. Two souls once separate we're becoming one. The cool air danced around you as the two of you, bathed in moonlight, found a new home within each other.

taglist: @simply-trash5 @sugawhaaa @trixiekaulitz @chrizzztopherbang @cassidymb121 @roanns-posts @staysinbloom @yaorzu-blog @bubblebisk @cotton-candycloudz @beautyinhypnosis @domicaru @strawberry31 @slxtmeri @newhope8 @tinyelfperson @dandelions-143 @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @msauthor @fun-fanfics @ell0thebell @stephanieeeyang @juskz @kimahreummm @readr1221 @kayleefriedchicken @ovulatingrn @hwnglixho @darthmaddie25 @queen-in-the-shadows @itgirlalisaa @miinhoo @greyaia @chanchansgirly @skzleeknowcore @skz-smut-reader @thatisrankharry @hearts4yawnzzn @jchotch726 @cherricola-star @minh0scat

[kamitv]

Gojo Satoru is a sensitive man.

This can't be stressed enough.

Look at the damn man, with no sense of person space ever-- of course he gets touch deprived one second after your hand leaves his body.

Yes, he folds and melts under your touch, he can't help himself. He's always touching others but for some reason, when you touch him, he realizes how fucking good it feels.

And yes, it's stimulating just to be touched by you. You could poke him in his arm and he's cracking that big smile of his at you, moving to grab your arm and tug you toward him so that he can kiss you. Then there's just something about how you are in the shower with him.

It rare that he gets to be in the bathroom with you as, you typically try your best to lock him out and use that as your time to escape him for a minute or two but when he finally gets the yes to shower with you...

Oh he's over the fucking moon about it. Smiling from ear to ear as he steps into the shower with you, eyes feasting all over your naked body and big hands quick to touch you as if it were second nature.

What he doesn't quite expect is for you to touch him too, more than normal. Your fingers are on his arms, feeling his biceps, trailing down, smiling to yourself at the bulky fiancé you've managed to acquire.

Gojo can't help but peer down at you, watching water slide down your body, cock twitching and springing up at the initial contact of your fingertips on him. He lets out a breathy little chuckle at himself too, not understanding how he's so sensitive to you.

Then your hands were sliding up and his cock was dripping, his hands frozen on your body as he didn't even know what to do with you just yet. You rarely ever take the lead with him so this was surprising.

And then your arms are around his neck and you're kissing him, tits pressed up against his chest and your entire body so fucking soft against him. He never wants to let you go, and he probably won't-- at least not for tonight, you'll be lucky if you get a second to breathe after pulling this little stunt.

Despite you doing nothing more then showing simple affection with a loving hug and kiss, he's... feral, lips pressing into yours, groan leaving his throat, body pushing yours back and up against the wall in an instant.

Huffing a messy, "Y'know what you do t'me?" Into your mouth as his hands finally figure out what the hell to do, slipping up and down your body, grabbing and tugging anything and everything.

Gojo would smack your ass just to hear you hum into his mouth, smiling at your reactions before you shockingly sink your fingers up into his hair and pull, yanking his head back and breaking the kiss just to earn a filthy little moan from him.

"Satoru." You utter sternly, "I didn't say you could shower with me so you could ruin me," You huff.

He smiles down at you, his hair still firmly held in your hand and his cock twitching all over because of it, "H-Hahh... Why else did ya' invite me in here, then? To stare at you? Plus..." He swallows heavily, "You started touchin' me first."

"Yes but I expect you to have at least a little self control."

His brows furrow, "Self-control? Never heard of her." Is the last thing he says before his hands are up at your face, holding you in his palms before he pushes forward and his lips sink into yours again.

And you groan against him but he just swallows it up, a whine leaving his throat as your tongue pushes against him. Again, it’s rare that you take the lead so when you’re standing here trying to fight your tongue into his mouth and your nails are scraping against his scalp—he doesn’t know how to handle it.

Then you smile against him and that's when he, again, loses his mind a bit. This time, Gojo's crouching down a little, grabbing a hold of one of your legs and lifting before he hooks his arm under it to hold you properly.

The next thing you feel as you explore the depths of his mouth is his cock graze your entrance, the feeling making your lips stutter against him.

To which Gojo smirks, "Don't get nervous, sweetheart," He utters against your lips.

You groan and your brows furrow, "M'not nervous," You argue back.

"You're right," He surprisingly agrees, "But you are wet as fuck," Gojo comments as his lips pry away from yours.

You give the man a blank stare, "Satoru... that's the shower water-"

"Nope, that's definitely your pussy," He cuts off, head dropping so he can look down and angle the tip of his flushed cock right against your hole, "Loook, sweetheart, she's drippin' all over me," Gojo says with a smile.

You roll your eyes at him but let out a heavy breath, "Whatever, stop teasin'. If you're gonna put it in then put it in."

He lifts his eyes to your face and smirks, "Put what in, baby? C'mon, say it."

"Your cock Satoru," You voice out calmly, his dick aching at the simple yet lewd words leaving your lips.

Gojo bites his bottom lip, "Yeah? Y'want my cock inside you, huh?"

You push your hips forward a little and he slips inside you a little, "Obviously," You utter, voice light in a whine.

Your fiancé cracks that egotistical lil' smirk of his, "Yes or no, love," Gojo hums, his overly-handsome face nearing yours.

You give him a look and his smile only widens, "Yes, Satoru."

And then his cock is finally pushing into you, his eyes boring into your own and his jaw dropping a bit as his lips graze yours due to how close he was, "Fuck, I love you, y'know," He groans out to you, inch by inch pushing deep into your cunt.

His fat tip presses into the hilt of your cunt and you gasp, arms tightening around his neck and facial expression contorting into pleasureful, "Do you?"

"You know I do," Gojo murmurs, and the closeness and eye contact of it all is so intimate that it makes your stomach churn, "I love makin' you feel good too," He says as his hips pull back slightly before he eases his dick back inside you, teasing you with a slow push and pull of his hips.

You smile for a moment and your fingers play with the lower strands of his hair, your small touch making Gojo's brows furrow.

"Love when you touch me like that too," He murmurs to you before he's moving again. This time it's to angle himself down and grab your other leg, lifting you up completely and pressing your back into the shower wall.

His cock plunges deeper inside of you because of the changed position and your legs are spread obscenely in his hold, Gojo's pretty blue eyes never once leaving your face.

"Yeah?" You utter out to him before trailing your fingertip down along his nape and watching his eyes flutter at the small motion, "You're so sensitive, 'Toru."

"Mhm," Gojo just barely hums before resting his forehead on yours. It got very intimate with him very quickly, his strokes slow and deep as he works up a gentle pace with you, feeling your cunt tug at his cock every time he pulls back, "M'so sensitive for you," Gojo whispers.

You giggle, "I can tell," Is all you say before slipping yours hands to his shoulders and just feeling on his body, the sensual and slow movement of your hands on him making Gojo's mind waver.

His cock jumps inside you every time your hands move, his breathing growing heavier, eyes lowering on your face, and lips parting. Your hands find their place on his neck and Gojo groans.

Then you wrap one arm around his neck and the other slips downward to feel his chest, his heavy heartbeat felt under your palm and making you smile, "Satoru," You utter, your head tipping back a little as his pelvis presses into you and his cock bottoms you out.

Gojo tilts his head and his eyes narrow at you, his pretty lil fiancee, "Yes?"

You sigh and your eyes are directly on his, "Fuck me harder so I can leave scratch marks on your back."

That sudden demand of yours causes Gojo to roll his hips into you, still going nice and slow so you can just feel every inch and throbbing vein that decorates his cock. "The ones from last time haven't even healed yet," Gojo chuckles out to you.

You just barely moan, "So?"

Gojo smiles at that, "Naughty girl, you jus' want me to fuck you hard."

"That's what I just said, isn't it?" You huff out, brows tensing as he draws his dick out of your hole so very slowly.

"What happened to not ruining you?" He hums, smile widening.

Then his cock slips out of your cunt and you sigh at the loss, his tip still pressed against you but ultimately leaving you empty for a moment.

You pout at the man as he teases you, "...I changed my mind."

"Yeah?" Gojo hums, pushing himself right back in as he talks to you, "Y'want me to ruin this pussy?"

"Mhm," Your response comes out a bit more desperate than you would've liked it to as he snaps his hips forward into you and shoves every inch of his cock back inside.

Gojo can't help but moan, once again working up a pace but this time it's nowhere near slow like before. The eye contact and light touching of your lips is still there but this time Gojo's mindlessly fucking his cock in and out of you.

Drawing such sloppy sounds from your pussy as it drips and slicks around his shaft, his cock stretching you open and practically splitting you apart. Then Gojo presses his body to yours, eager to feel every inch of your skin on his as he moans right against your lips.

"You feel so fuckin' good," Gojo whines out to you, brows tensing and hips unrelenting against you, "Never' wanna pull out, fuck."

"Then don't," You taunt.

You have to start being more careful with what you say to Gojo during sex because he swears his head is spinning, eyes boring into your own as he beings pounding into you.

His hips snap so aggressively against you, long cock dragging in and out of your wet folds, cunt stretched around him so messily that he couldn't even stop himself for a second. And then he’s cumming prematurely. Damn you and that smart ass mouth, just the thought of fucking you full of his cum led him to actually doing so…

Fuckin’ brat.

[ethosuximide]

I just want to add here: if you aren't currently using any maladaptive coping mechanisms, do not start. Being sober and (relatively) healthy is one of the best things you can do for yourself right now. And if you are using something like that, you might want to consider getting support so you can stop. I realize that's not possible for everyone, but if it is, please strongly consider it.

I'm literally typing this during a break between sessions at an eating disorder clinic, so I know what I'm talking about from direct experience here. If I were in the same mental place I was when I first started at this clinic a couple months ago, I would probably be suicidal right now. As it is, I can function well enough to try and take care of my family. I wish the same for all of you.

I hope none of you disappear in the coming days. Seriously don't do anything that can't be undone.

[beloveds-embrace]

so i have a habit of calling be love/babe/darling as a term of enderament (even in friendships) and was wondering how the dukedom guys would react to being called love or darling by the reader for the first time? I grt it probably wasnt as socially acceptable back then but the thought still plaques my mind

Historical accuracy who? We don’t know her shhh

Original post

But they’d love it! At first, you had tried really hard to stop yourself and semi-succeeded by only calling your maids like that. Your parents always hated that habit of yours, a leftover from your nanny’s own habit. They had warned you again and again and again to not let your tongue run, to keep your words polite and demure, only fallen women working in brothels would speak so freely.

And you did keep it under control for a good while; with your interactions few with John, you could remind yourself not to let your tongue loose and call him honey right off the bat when he simply calls you by your name. It’s harder with Kyle, you almost slip and call him darling, same with Johnny. With Simon it’s easier because on the times he visits, you leave him to his meetings with John and don’t bother them. (Or what you thought were business meetings at that time lol)

But once they start getting closer to you, it’s inevitable that the nicknames start slipping out.

“Kyle, darling-“ you are rushing today, and the words slip out before you realize. You just spare a thought to wonder why he’s frozen solid like that. “Where is my hairpin? I was so sure we left it on my vanity?”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” you say to Johnny when he brings you a platter of fresh deserts while working, not lifting your head from the papers in front of you other than to flash him a quick, grateful smile. You don’t notice how long it takes before Johnny stutters out a ‘welcome, m’lady’ and leaves you be.

“Simon, honey?” You ask on another occasion, voice too worried to notice what you’d called him. No maids around, and no one would question you calling you husband’s ‘close friend’ by his name in your home. “Is your leg okay? You are leaning on it too much, shall I call the doctor?” His silence is typical to you, but too busy fussing over his leg, you don’t see his face. Until you look up, eyes widening at his averted eyes and red-tipped ears. “Are you sick, Simon? You should be resting instead, you know?”

And at last… “John, love,” you sigh softly, controlling the tremble of your limbs. You look away from the newspaper, though you believe it should just be called a glorified gossip magazing, and close your eyes. Duke Price’s Duchess remains barren of a child! Is a divorce in their future? “It’s alright, it is what it is-“ you try to calm him.

Up until now, from the moment you’d both read the headline, John had been fuming. He wasn’t loud in his anger, but it was clear in his ticking jaw and clenched fists. So you expect him to continue in his anger.

“…I will deal with it.” John promises, voice low but no longer a rolling thunder. He sits down calmer now, when you finally open your eyes to look at him. He’s simply gazing at you, and his hands clench in the air before he sets them down on the table. “They won’t be slandering you any longer, wife. I promise you.”

You wish you could pinpoint what soothed him, but alas. Though you know he will try his best and maybe this news agency won’t make anymore comments like this about you, others will still continue to do so.

“It’s alright.” You repeat, but the words ring hollow and the smile on your face is empty. You push your plate away. “Now, if my husband permits it, I don’t believe I can stomach much more.”

“You never need my permission for such things,” he tells you; a sentiment he’d told you from the very first day. His face softens. “Go rest. Today, I will take care of everything that needs to be done.”

Darling, sweetheart, honey, love… they wonder if you know how much those words repeat in their minds.

[rafecameronssl4t]

Thinkin’ bout me || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

gif by @chenslucy

Summary: inspired by the lyrics of “thinkin’ bout me” Morgan Wallen 🤗🤗

Warnings: slight angst ig

Word count: 1,964

A/n: I rlly wanna do one with a Zach Bryan song but the ideas aren’t coming to me 😔

MASTERLIST

divider by @h-aewo

Don't know where you at, don't know where you've been. Don't know nothin' 'bout that boy you're into.

It had been two months since you’d left, pulling yourself out of Rafe’s orbit so completely that he’d almost started to believe you’d vanished for good. Then tonight, here you were, mingling at the yacht party like nothing had happened.

Only now, an unfamiliar blonde had his arm wrapped casually around your waist, his fingers tracing lazy patterns against your hip as you leaned in close to hear him over the music, a bright, carefree smile lighting up your face. Rafe’s stomach twisted at the sight.

He couldn’t hear what you were saying, but he could see the way you laughed at something the guy said, your head tipping back as if his words were the funniest thing you’d heard all night. The version of you he saw now felt almost foreign to him—like he’d been replaced by someone who wasn’t weighed down by your shared past.

Maybe you really were happier, but seeing you with someone else so soon cut deeper than he’d anticipated. It was the smile that got to him the most—the one he remembered as his—now aimed at someone else.

Don't feel bad for you, but I feel bad for him. And all the hell you gon' be puttin' him through. Probably tell him we're a burnt out flame. Probably tell him that I ain't been on your mind. How I ain't nothin' but a long gone thing. You can cuss my name, but baby, don't you lie

The unfamiliar blonde looked wildly out of place in the gleaming luxury of the yacht party, as though he’d just wandered into the wrong scene altogether. He had a wholesome air about him that felt like it belonged more to a Kildare bonfire than this slick, exclusive gathering. Rafe’s jaw clenched as he watched the guy, wondering what you could possibly see in someone so blatantly average.

“Who are you staring at?” Topper’s voice broke into his thoughts, a teasing chuckle in his tone as he followed Rafe’s gaze. He spotted you almost immediately, his eyebrows lifting in mild surprise. “Oh. She looks good—”

“Shut the fuck up, man. Don’t wanna hear it,” Rafe muttered, not breaking his stare. He didn’t need anyone telling him how good you looked; he already knew. Topper just threw his hands up, backing off with a smirk. Before Topper could throw in another comment, you shifted, turning around just enough to spot him.

Rafe’s lips curled into a smirk, catching the way you froze for a split second and in that instant, he saw the flicker of nerves in your expression. Rafe’s lips curled into a smirk, watching the way you subtly fidgeted under his stare. He could practically see the wheels turning in your mind as you quickly turned back to the guy beside you.

The blonde followed your gaze, catching sight of Rafe and Topper watching. His expression tightened just slightly, his eyes darting back to Rafe every few seconds, clearly trying to size him up. Rafe’s smirk widened; he knew exactly what was going through the guy’s mind. You were probably telling him some watered-down version of what you and Rafe had been—a burnt-out flame, a chapter you’d left behind.

Maybe you were painting Rafe as the villain, the one you’d gotten over, glossing over the parts that didn’t fit. Even cussing him out just to make it seem like you’d moved on. But he saw right through it. He knew the kind of hell you’d probably put this guy through, the stories you’d tell him, the ways you’d pretend you’d forgotten.

He’d been in your life long enough to know you, and he couldn’t help but feel sorry for this poor bastard. He didn’t feel bad for you—not anymore. But for the guy who thought he’d won you over? Rafe almost pitied him. He had no idea the hell you’d eventually put him through, just like you’d put Rafe through.

When you're tastin' what he's drinkin', are you thinkin' 'bout me? When you're ridin' where he's drivin', are you missin' my street?

Rafe’s eyes lingered on you, the smirk slipping into something colder as he watched you lean closer to the blonde, your laughter ringing out over the music. But he saw right through it. He knew you well enough to pick up on the tiny tells—the way you glanced over your shoulder just slightly, probably checking if he was still watching.

You were putting on a show, and he knew it. He could almost picture it: you, lifting a drink to your lips, tasting the same burn of bourbon he used to pour you, and wondering if it would ever hit the same. Or maybe it was later, on some midnight drive as the blonde took you back home, the car turning down familiar roads but never quite the right ones. He could almost feel that ache settling in you when his road, the one leading up to Tannyhill, passed by without a pause.

You might be so close, just one turn away, and yet still missing that feeling of belonging you’d only ever felt pulling into his place, the street you’d once called home. He could feel Topper glancing his way, but he didn’t care, didn’t let up. He wanted to make sure you knew he was still there, that he was watching you, and that no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t just erase him. Not from those old habits, not from those half-forgotten memories that clung to you like shadows.

And even as you turned back to the blonde, pretending you didn’t care, he could tell. Somewhere, deep down, he knew you’d feel that same hollow ache—the same one he was feeling right now—whenever you tasted what he was drinking or found yourself driving down a street that just didn’t feel the same.

Every time you close your eyes, tell me, who do you see. Comin' over tonight, wish that truck in your drive was mine. Just like you know it's supposed to be

Every time you closed your eyes, he wondered if it was his face you still saw, if memories of him filled those moments you tried to shut out. He imagined you lying awake, maybe with that blonde by your side, but when you let your guard down, it wasn’t him you’d see. It was Rafe, pulling up to your place, the sound of his truck rumbling in the driveway as he walked up to your door, familiar and steady as if he’d never left.

He could picture it so clearly—his truck parked outside, headlights washing over your front porch, the way he’d make himself at home in your space without a second thought. Rafe knew you could pretend all you wanted, but when you closed your eyes, he’d be there, waiting in those memories you could never quite shake. And somewhere, deep down, he knew you’d feel that pang of regret every time you wished that truck in your drive was his.

When you're up in his bed, am I up in your head? Making you crazy, tell me, baby, are you thinkin' 'bout me?

He couldn’t help but wonder if, in those quiet hours of the night, when you were lying beside him, it was his name that slipped into your mind uninvited. When you were up in that guy’s bed, was it him who filled your thoughts instead—if the memory of his hands, his voice, his presence stayed just beneath the surface, making it impossible to forget. He wanted to know if he’d left a mark, lingering even now, pushing you to the edge of madness as you tried to convince yourself you’d moved on.

Rafe moved in quietly, blending into the crowd, making his way closer as he watched the blonde step away, leaving you alone for the first time all night. He didn’t hesitate, just closed the distance, eyes fixed on you with that knowing look you’d tried to ignore. Reaching for a glass, he pretended to pour himself a drink, but his attention was fully on you, his voice low and taunting.

“Tell me, baby,” he murmured, just loud enough for you to hear, “are you thinkin’ ’bout me?” The words hung in the air between you, his gaze steady, daring you to look away. He didn’t need to say anything else. The challenge was in his eyes, his tone, the slight smirk playing at his lips as he watched your reaction. He knew he was under your skin, that no matter how hard you tried, memories of him had a way of creeping back. And now, standing close enough to feel the tension humming between you, he was waiting, pushing just enough to make you wonder if he’d ever really left your thoughts.

You swallowed, eyes narrowing as you tried to brush off the effect he still had on you. But the heat of his presence was unmistakable, almost magnetic, pulling you into that familiar territory you’d been trying so hard to avoid. His eyes searched yours, unreadable, but you caught the flicker of something darker beneath the surface—a mixture of anger, curiosity, maybe even the smallest hint of longing.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, keeping your voice steady, forcing a smile that you hoped would mask the way your pulse quickened. But Rafe’s smirk only grew, as if he could see right through your act. He leaned in, close enough that his breath brushed against your ear, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Sure, keep tellin’ yourself that.” He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in as he stared at you side profile before chuckling to himself.

“But we both know who’s really on your mind tonight.” You felt a shiver roll down your spine, his proximity making it impossible to ignore the pull between you, the way his presence filled every corner of your mind despite the months apart. He lingered there, eyes never leaving yours, daring you to deny it, to keep pretending he was just a part of your past.

“You look good,” he added, voice soft, with just the slightest edge. “But maybe that’s ’cause I remember how you used to look at me.” The words hit harder than you’d like, his eyes holding yours with an intensity that left no room for anything else. You wanted to come up with something quick, something sharp to throw back at him. But for a second, you just stood there, caught in the moment, feeling the weight of every memory between you—the late nights, the laughter, the arguments, the way he’d looked at you like no one else ever had.

[magics-neptunes-things]

You Belong With Me

Hi guys!

I'm finally working on my WIP's. This is a request I received a long time ago, I'm so sorry for the wait. You can find it here.

Please enjoy ♥

TW : Alcohol

When Alessia moved to Arsenal, you were happy because you always found her very talented. You saw her playing during the World Cup and with you already playing for Arsenal, you had to play against her several times.

You love her play, and she seems really sweet, which is not a bad thing. You remember being with Leah in the medical centre when Alessia came to sign her contract. The other blond introduced both of you and since then you are inseparable.

You do all your drills together, you sometimes come together for training, and you sit almost always next to each other on the coach when you are travelling in the country for games.

This summer you even went to Ibiza together, even if there were more pictures of Alessia and Toone, you were there too. And you really had a blast there, enjoying every single day. You come even closer to Alessia, and you have to control yourself to keep your gesture friendly.

You are separated during the national breaks though. For this one you go back to your country, or wherever the camp is, while Alessia stays in England with her national teammates.

This is during the last camp that you realize how much you were fucked up. You missed Alessia every single second of the camp, wanting to hear her voice and talk to her all day long. You missed her smile, you missed her touch, you missed her perfume and even the way her hair whips your face during some exercises in training.

You messaged each other from time to time, but not every day. Sometimes Alessia took a long time to answer your messages and you hated the way your stomach makes you feel sick during this time. You don’t want to be a burden for her obviously, she’s your friend and she doesn’t see you like that.

So, after your return to London, you decide to be more distant with Alessia, for your mental health. Plus, the blonde has a lot of other friends on the team, so she won’t have any problems finding someone else.

You are late the first time you have to take the coach to go to Manchester and play your first game back. So, it’s not a problem to sit in front of Katie and Caitlin while Alessia is next to Kyra, several rows behind.

And since that move, you become more and more distant with her. You take more time to answer her messages, you avoid going to the team bonding and you always have something to do when Alessia proposes to drive you to training.

You see Alessia frowning from time to time, but like you were thinking, some of your teammates seem eager to spend time with her. It’s more difficult for you to find someone to do your drills with. Sometimes it’s Laia, sometimes it’s Steph. You have a great time with them, but it has nothing to do with doing it with Alessia.

You were really thinking that those changes aren’t bothering Alessia. But to be honest, it’s not exactly working on stopping your crush on her.

You have to fight the need to look at you every time you can, your eyes are attracted to her like two magnets.

The fact that you find her more beautiful every day probably doesn’t help either. But now you aren’t even crossing her eyes. When she starts to turn her eyes to look in your direction, you are already doing something else.

From friends you are now strangers and even if it breaks your heart, you know it’s for the better. If you confessed your feelings to Alessia, you would have lost her anyway. Like this, at least she won’t feel strange because of you.

“What’s the matter between you and Lessi?” Leah asks you while you are doing some drills.

For once, Lia chooses to partner with Mariona, letting Leah make them with you. You wait to send her the ball back before answering.

“What do you mean?” you ask with a poker face.

Leah sends you the ball back, not looking at you in the process. You like it that way, it doesn’t give you the impression of being grilled by her. You wonder if Alessia sends her to you, or if this is just a Captain’s duty.

“You were both so close and now it looks like you don’t even talk. Did something happen between you?”

“No” you shake your head. “We just… grow apart, I don’t know. It happens to people sometimes, just like Katie and you. You aren’t as close as you were some years ago”

It’s a poker move that you are making, to be honest. Sure, Leah and Katie aren’t close like before, but they are still friends. They are still talking, joking around and laughing together. Which you aren’t doing anymore with Alessia.

This time Leah looks at you with scepticism. You can see in her eyes that she doesn’t believe you at all. Just like if she knows how you would have killed just to have a hug from Alessia.

“If you say so” she finally says.

She doesn’t believe you, but at least she doesn’t push the subject. You are glad for it. You haven’t talked to anyone about your feelings for Alessia and why you made the decision to avoid her suddenly.

You finish your drills in silence, probably both lost in your thoughts. It’s only when you are finished and going back to the group that Leah talks again.  

“You know that you can talk to me about anything, yeah?”

You raise your head in Leah’s direction, and you feel your face softening a little. She seems really concerned about you. It makes you warm inside.

“Thank you” you smile.

“Anytime”

She gives you a side hug which you answer, passing both of your arms around her waist. You appreciate the girl, not in the way you appreciate Alessia. But under her stern glare, Leah is really a big softie.

Leah passes her arm around your shoulders and drags you near the team who is having a drink pause. It’s at this moment that you cross Alessia’s blue eyes. She gives you a tentative smile, which you answer with an uneasy one before hurrying to take a bottle of water.

Later that day, you were getting out of the showers, sure that no one was still here. You went to the medical team for a little strange feeling in your tight. It was nothing but you still had a massage before going to the shower. Only Steph and Beth were still there, and they told you goodbye when you entered the shower.

You took a long and hot shower, waiting for every part of your body to be really relaxed. It took time but you finally managed it.

No one was waiting for you at home, so you take your time to get dressed and prepare yourself. You were grabbing your bag when the door opens, and you froze when you see who is entering the locker room.

Alessia.

She seems surprised to see you here too and stays still for some seconds before opening her mouth.

“Oh, I thought you were already home” she says softly.

“I’m going now” you answer, passing next to her to reach the exit.

“Wait”

Alessia grabs your arm, and you froze once again. Alessia releases you very quickly, taking your frozen state for discomfort. She doesn’t realise that your stillness is because of the warm feeling that this simple touch makes you feel.

“Sorry” she mumbles, looking at her feet. “I was wondering… Is everything fine? We don’t talk like we used to”

You bite your lips softly before answering. She seems really touched by the situation and you feel your heart break a little more. But you shake yourself mentally. It’s for the better like this.

“Yeah, everything is fine” you smile. “Look I have to go; I have a meeting with my agent. See you tomorrow?”

“Are you coming to Beth’s?”

Beth is organising a team bonding tomorrow night, and you said you were going before Alessia answered. A mistake you usually aren’t making but you were unfocused while answering the invitation.

“Yes”

“Cool” Alessia smiles awkwardly.

You smile back before going out of here. Your cheeks are so red that it could have been used as decoration for an Arsenal video.

Coming here was a bad idea, you knew it. You almost wrote to Beth ten times to say that you weren’t coming, but you are still here, sandwiched on a couch between Laia and Mariona. Both girls were yapping in Spanish, Mariona’s hand somewhere on Lia’s knee. You were happy to be seated here though, at least you don’t need to talk or anything.

You saw Alessia looking at you several times, but she looked away every time you were looking back. Maybe your plan is starting to work, you thought with relief. Alessia talked almost all night with Lotte and Emily, far away from you. You can’t help but feel a little jealous though, hearing her laugh resonate in the room from time to time. But you shouldn’t feel that way.

She wrote to you yesterday and you ignored her text once again. You feel bad about it, but you don’t have the choice.

You may have drunk a little too much cider that Lia brought back from her training camps in France. Your teammates swear that it wasn’t with alcohol, but when you look at the bottle it’s said it in fact does have alcohol. Only a little but for those like you who aren't drinking alcohol at all, you don’t need a lot of it to feel your head start spinning.

You were looking at Myle sleeping when you hear a part of the conversation between Alessia, Emily and Lotte. You wish you wouldn’t have.

“So, how was the date Emily arranged you?” Lotte asks Alessia.

You feel your jaw contracting, without being able to really control your muscles. You stand up, mumbling something about the bathroom to Laia who looks at you with concern before getting out of the living room. You actually go to the bathroom, locking the door behind you before splashing cold water on your face.

Who did you think you could convince? In all your stupidity, you didn’t think for one second that Alessia could look for someone else. Of course she will, and you know that she probably has thousands of people waiting for her. She’s perfect and you are lousy.

You jump when you hear someone knocking at the door.

“Y/N? Are you okay?”

You are relieved to hear Lia’s voice and not Alessia’s. You take a deep breath before answering, you want to be sure that your voice will be okay.

“I’m fine. Just freshening up a little”

You close the tap and take another big breath before going out. Thank god your eyes aren’t red, and your cheeks aren’t flushed. Otherwise, you would have been screwed.

“Are you sure that you’re okay?” Lia asks after having looked at you with a perfect arched eyebrow.

“I think I’ve been sick of the cider. It’s maybe better if I go home. Can you tell Beth? I don’t want the others to make fun of me”

You see her hesitate some seconds before answering.

“Don’t you want someone to take you home?”

“Nah, I’ll be fine” you shrug.

“Y/N.”

Lia grabs your hand, and you look at her, like a child is looking at his mother before being scolded. Lia just used what Kyra calls her “Mom’s voice”, but you got the feeling perfectly well right now.

“Don’t you dare driving, am I clear?”

“I won’t Lia, I swear” you smile softly. “I’m just going to walk home, and I will come back to take my car tomorrow. Really, don’t worry I’ll be fine, okay?”

You don’t really know if you will be fine, but you find your tentative lie pretty good actually. Lia seems to believe it anyway, not suspecting for a second that you probably will go home to cry in your bed. And pretend a hangover to stay at home for the next 24 hours.

Lia finally nods and says goodbye, letting you go to grab your jacket and your shoes. It’s only when you close the door behind you that you realise that no one saw that it started to rain. Which isn’t surprising because you literally live in London. But you still don’t have an umbrella or anything to hide under.

You sigh and start to walk. You aren’t leaving far away from Beth’s house, it’s only a ten minutes’ walk. Hiding your hands in your pocket, you cross the road and hurry a little bit. The fresh air is great for you, even if it probably would have been better without the rain.

“Y/N!”

You would have recognized that voice between every voice in the world. Even if she’s running and your ears are full of the noise of the rain.

When you turn in her direction, Alessia is crossing the street too, without a coat or a jacket or anything else other than her jumper.

“What are you doing here? Do you want to die from pneumonia?” you ask, your concern making you forget that you are supposed to ignore her.

“I just… I need to understand”

Alessia is looking at you, her beautiful eyes scanning your face and your eyes. But you don’t hold her gaze, preferring to look somewhere behind the street.

“No! Stop not looking at me!”

That sentence has the good point of surprising you enough to make you look at her. The rain sticks her long blond hair to her face, and you must take it on yourself not to clear that said beautiful face.

“You need to tell me what the matter is! I can’t remember when you stopped hugging me to say hello and I don’t understand why you are suddenly ghosting me. What is happening? What did I do?”

There is no escape for you now. You still can pretend that she’s imagining things and answer her like you said to Leah some days before. People just grow apart at some point. It’s sad, but it’s life. But you know that Alessia won’t believe that.

“You did nothing, Lessi. It’s just complicated” you sigh, passing a hand on your face.

“Then talk to me! Together we can work on it!”

“It doesn’t matter” you try to avoid the subject, walking away from a few steps.

But Alessia doesn’t seem to hear like this. She hurries to close the distance between you again, grabbing your arm once again. Her fingers are cold like ice on your skin, making you shiver. She must be freezing.

“It does matter, Y/N, fuck!”

You look at her with wide eyes. It’s maybe the first time you hear Alessia swearing outside of a football pitch. She looks genuinely upset. Seeing her like this isn’t easy for you, you could give your life for her. You never wanted to see her sad.  

“We were closer than anyone and now you act as if it never mattered to you. You said I did nothing, so what is it? Are you in trouble? Did you meet someone who is too jealous for you to hang on with me?”

You roll your eyes, suddenly annoyed when you remember that she went on a date with someone else several days ago.

“I’m not the one trying to date someone else” you grumble.

It takes Alessia by surprise. The blonde doesn’t seem to know what to answer to that, before finally opening her mouth.

“How does it even have a point with any of this?”

“I…”

“Y/N please…”

You groan, passing both hands on your face. Everything is so complicated and Alessia will definitely catch at least a cold or something. But she keeps pressing you and between the cold, the cider and all the feelings you have for this girl, you can’t contain yourself anymore.

“I like you, okay?” you finally almost shout in the middle of the street. “And not like you like a friend likes you, I like you. I’m the girl who fell in love with her straight beautiful best friend. I tried to fight against it, but I can’t, Alessia.”

You take a big breath, looking at Alessia’s drenched face. How is she still so attractive under the rain? It’s unbelievable.  She’s silent for now, looking at you with wide eyes and her mouth a little agape.

“You’re just so perfect and I didn’t want you to hate me, so I thought that if I drift apart from you, it will be better. But it’s not working at all. I can’t forget you and now you’re here looking at me and all I want to do is kiss you.”

You finally remember to breathe again and it takes some time for Alessia to finally talk again.

“You… You like me?” she finally manages to say, stuttering a little.

“Yes, I do” you sigh.

You wanted to add that now you really need to go inside and ask Beth if they can borrow some clothes. Alessia would probably need the ones from Viv, because there is no way that she can fit in something belonging to Beth.

But suddenly Alessia is grabbing your face with both of her hands, tilting it just a little to be in the right direction and then… Then she kisses you. Her lips are on yours and your brain is short-circuiting. You need several seconds before answering her kiss, finally processing that it’s really happening.

When she feels you kissing her back, Alessia lets go of your face with one of her hands to grab your neck and deepen the kiss. During this time, your arms went around her neck, keeping her close.

You don’t know for now what is happening in her head, maybe it’s just a one-time thing. So, you better remember every single second of it.

Alessia’s body is cold against yours, but the taste and the softness of her lips are amazing. Even better than what you imagined.

When the kiss ends, she presses her forehead against yours and your eyes automatically go for her lips.

“Less, let’s go home. Your lips are blue” you whisper.

You take her hand and pull a little on it for her to follow you. Which she finally does, following you under the rain. Your house is closer than hers, so you don’t hesitate before taking her here.

You wipe the puddles of water on your wooden floors while Alessia takes a hot shower, and she makes tea while you take yours. The effect of the alcohol seems to have been forgotten thanks to your talk with Alessia. Or maybe it’s the kiss.

It is definitely the kiss.

When you come back in the living room, wearing your pyjamas short and an old jersey from your national country, Alessia smiles shyly at you. She was looking at the steam from the mugs on the coffee table in front of her.

“We probably need to talk” the blonde says softly, when you are seated next to her on the couch.

“Yeah” you breathe, looking at the mug between your hands. “Look, if you want to forget about that kiss…”

“No, I don’t want to! Y/N you need to… Give me that” she cuts herself.

She takes the mug from your hand to put it back on the table, next to hers. You turn a surprised gaze on her when she grabs your hands, taking them between hers. Her hands are way hotter than before, really pleasant on your skin.

“You need to stop pretending I don’t like you back. I do like you. Maybe I realised it very late, but I do.”

You blink your eyes as you look at her, shocked. You didn’t expect this to be quite honest. You had time to prepare yourself for many eventualities during your shower and the one where Alessia announces that she got carried away a little is the one you thought the most plausible. Alessia is romantic. Which romantic people would refuse a kiss in the rain?

“I thought we were just friends, but when you stopped talking to me, it made me realise that there was more. I missed you, every single second. It was hard but it made me realise that I never really had friendly feelings for you.”

You were looking at her intensively, not missing a single word or a single facial expression. It seems too good to be true.

“But… You are straight” you frown.

“Haven’t you seen the TikTok trend “Gay for her” ?” she rolls her eyes.

You roll your eyes too but look at her again when she squeezes your hands. You love the feeling of her skin against yours.

“What if we try and it doesn’t work? I don’t want to lose you” you whisper.

“What if it does work? We can go at the pace we want, how we want. We don’t owe anything to anyone.”

It seems so easy saying like that. You finally address her a small smile, which she returns without any hesitation.

“I never thought you would reciprocate my feelings” you admit. “I think I will need time to deal with that information.”

Alessia laughs and you can’t hide your smile. You love seeing her happy and the way her eyes are sparkling make you understand that she is right now.

“We have all the time” she promises.

You are always smiling when you raise your hand to slowly stroke her face with your fingertips. Her lips aren’t blue anymore and her cheeks are even a little pink. She’s so beautiful.

“Can I kiss you again?” you ask with a soft smile.

Alessia smirks.

“You don’t need to ask for that.”

[crystallilytarot]

Felt bad because the last pac was a little short, so it's a similar one. Those paper snowflakes were small, these are big.

It's about any area in life, and probably most of it will be future things, but I hope this will give you hope and motivation.

YOUR BIGGEST ACCOMPLISHMENTS

Pile 1

Even if there's hard things, even if there's chaos and you need to start again, you will able to do it, and you will be better than ever! For some of you, it's especially true with finances, you will have a stable life. But also you will have a good relationship, maybe against all odds, maybe you didn't saw good examples, but you still have a good connection with your partner. You can definitely be succesful in something creative, I feel so much spark, inspiration, unique ideas. And you will have some deep wiseness, maybe it's connected to spirituality, but somehow you can teach people. You will also know and love yourself.

Pile 2

Your ambitions will come true, your hard work will definitely pay off. You can also be good at manifestation. I see you can be a boss, be in a high position, you basically can buy anything, you won't have financial struggles. Also, you will be the boss of your own life in every way too, you have power to change it. If you have some anxiety, nervousness, your mental health will be so much better. And you will feel free, you will move on, let go of past mistakes, past toxic people. You will love your life, you will be active, full of passion. If you want to move to another city or country, this will definitely happen. Even if you don't want to, you will travel a lot.

Pile 3

It feels you were lost, maybe you needed to fight, others didn't understand you. But it's like your life will be the complete opposite. For some of you, you will live literally the other side of the world. I think you will be lucky too, but it's more like you will have help from your spirit guides. Finally, everything will be okay. You will have a loving partner, and you will love yourself too. Your unique thinking and person will be appreciated, you will be in a like-minded community. You can finally be in peace with yourself and life, your struggles are over. You did so much inner work, and you feel good about yourself too. Others will love your company because your authentic nature and your good vibes.

[abigail-pent]

entirely too many people: "I won't vote, or I'll vote for Jill Stein! because [poorly thought-out appeal to morals] and [something something genocide]!"

me:

you don't exist in a vacuum. none of us does. your life and choices have moral weight. your vote is not just a symbol. your actions have consequences.

if Trump is elected, he'll give Bibi the green light to do whatever he wants in Gaza - not like now, when Biden has been trying to rein him in, albeit not enough and not very successfully. if Trump is elected, every uterus-bearing person in this country will lose full bodily autonomy, probably for the rest of our lives. the man wants to put Elon Musk, destroyer of social media apps, in charge of cutting government jobs and departments. the man has promised RFK Jr. that he'll get the fluoride *out* of our water. (he is taking public health advice directly from an antivaxxer who started a measles outbreak in Samoa because of his beliefs. people died!) every single one of his generals has said he's a threat to democracy, a pathetic Hitler fanboy, and if he's elected he'll get the nuclear codes... *again.*

and then there's Jill Stein, who pops up every 4 years to try and peel votes off a Democrat. she's never been interested in building her party, only running for the highest office in the land despite 0 governing experience or fleshed-out policy proposals. Jill Stein, who can't deny taking money from Putin, who was endorsed by David Duke of the KKK and took way too long to disavow that endorsement, whose running mate is proudly transphobic and would support abortion bans. The woman is an Assad apologist. Assad, who slaughtered thousands of Palestinian refugees in Syria. If you vote for her because you think she cares about Palestinians, you're simply not paying attention. And returning to the Putin of it all - Russia meddled in US elections in 2016 specifically by targeting leftists and people of color and trying to get them to support Stein instead of Clinton. Look at the patterns. The same thing is happening again.

When you vote for either of these people, or when you don't vote, you make it more likely that Trump will win. That is a moral consequence of your behavior. If you don't vote, or vote for one of them, then you are culpable and complicit in whatever happens next.

You may not agree with Harris on everything. You may wish she was more left on x or y issue. You may wish she'd said more about Gaza (have you seen this?) or that she came down harder on Bibi in public than she did behind closed doors. But there's no doubt that she is more progressive on every single issue than Trump is. Trump, who thinks he should be a dictator, who thinks you should not be able to vote, or that if you do, then your vote shouldn't matter. This man wants to make it so you never have a real voice again. And in return for what? He doesn't want to serve you. He doesn't want to serve anyone but himself. He doesn't care if you or your loved ones bleed out in a parking lot, or if your lungs betray you with covid, or if you starve yourself to keep up with your rent payments, or if the planet boils because we didn't invest in green technology. He only cares about himself.

Vote, because people fought and died for your right to do so. Vote to keep their sacrifice from being in vain. Vote so the next generation can have as much autonomy as you did.

Where I’m at, personally, is that I think voting when you have the franchise is a civic responsibility.

If you’re from the USA and currently possess a vote, you do in fact have a duty to use it in the way that will do the most good to the most people. The weight of imperialism does not lift that burden, it multiplies it. You are determining how much funding UN famine relief may get and whether distant countries will be invaded and you cannot shrink from that. No amount of whinging about your red state (states flip all the time—Virginia was ruby red a few decades ago!) or your misplaced guilt can change that. Everyone from the dawn of time has lived with hands soaked in blood, being part of a society means being complicit in horror, you can become paralyzed by that or you can start to work to save people.

(If a single person is protected by a Harris presidency who’d die under Trump then you actually do have a moral obligation to help them. Failing in that task is, in my opinion, selfishness. Sometimes sympathetic selfishness: people who have lost family due to the incompetence of the best option have the right to shrink back from necessary choices. Humans grieve. That just means everyone further out in the circles of tragedy needs to develop some risk assessment skills and vote on their behalf.)

If you’re in Britain or Brasil or the EU or Georgia or Aotearoa the same holds true. The global community remains a community in which every country impacts the other, no nation lacks some dispossessed minority which needs to be protected. Voting is always important and you never get to slack off. Even if your vote is diluted or subverted you have to try. There is no winning the task of creating a better world, you’re going to keep doing it for the rest of your life.

I believe all this is true and I also believe that Tumblr is the worst possible environment to convince anyone of their truth. It’s probably not possible to harangue anyone into taking moral action. The disappointment of a stranger rarely motivates anyone! But one does have to speak up periodically, so here’s my general plea: Vote. It’s quite literally the bare minimum.

[moonstruckme]

dare i say carmy coming home to ur shared apartment and you’re napping so he starts on dinner for u but you wake up and feel immensely guilty that he’s just come home from hours of cooking only to cook some more…(i want to kiss him so bad it’s embarrassing)

Thank you for requesting lovely!

Carmy Berzatto x fem!reader ♡ 544 words

You wake to the sound of sizzling in the kitchen. 

A groan tears from your throat as you untangle yourself from your blanket, searching for your slippers underneath the couch. Your apartment darkened without you noticing, the only light an orange glow coming from above the stove. 

“Carmy,” you croak, coming up behind him to wrap your arms around his middle. He jolts a little but relaxes once he realizes it's you. He still smells like the restaurant, like focaccia and a dozen herbs you could never identify on your own. 

“Hey.” He settles one hand over where your wrists cross on his abdomen. Calloused and intimate. “You good?” 

You rest your cheek on his shoulder, the ends of his hair tickling your nose. Your head hurts. “I’m sorry.” 

“What?” Whatever’s on the stove sizzles and pops. You hear his wooden spoon scrape through it. “Why, what’re you sorry for?” 

“I was supposed to do dinner.” 

“What?” Carmy asks again. He half turns his head, trying to see you. “Did we say that?” 

“No,” you mope, “but I was gonna. I was just taking a nap after work, and then I was gonna get up and make dinner. I didn’t mean to make you come home and cook after you just left the restaurant.” 

Your boyfriend makes a short, derisive sound. “You’re not making me do shit. It’s fine, I don’t care.” 

You sigh against the back of his shirt, your body heavy with misery. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t—quit saying that.” Carmy flicks down the heat on the stove, turns in the circle of your arms so that he’s facing you. He takes your face in his hands, grip firm. “You’re sick. It’s fine. I don’t expect you to make me dinner even when you’re not sick.” His brow wrinkles. “That’d be kind of fucked up to women, right?” 

You feel a tug on your lips. “Yeah, I guess. But you cook all night anyway. And I’m not that sick anymore.” 

Carmy frowns. “Your face is still hot.” You think it probably goes a tad hotter at his notice, a tickle of shyness skittering across your skin where his thumbs rest on your cheeks. “Anyway, I don’t need you contaminating our food. It’s gross.” 

“Faulty logic,” you say, voice softening, “considering we share a bed and all that.” 

Now Carmy’s face is heating. You can tell from the pink splotches blooming by his nose. “It still feels grosser when it’s food. I don’t want your snot or whatever in there.” His expression softens slightly. “I’m not trying to be mean.” 

“I know.” You wrap your arms around him more tightly, your face to his chest. “Okay. Thank you.” 

He palms the back of your head. “You’re still fucking sick,” he mutters, but keeps you close as he rotates you both back towards the stove, pushing things around in his pan. 

“Yeah, maybe. My head hurts. Thanks for making dinner.” 

“It’s nothing fancy.” 

“What’re we having, Chef?”

“Now I feel like you’re gonna be disappointed.” 

You smile against Carmy’s front. “Never. What is it?” 

He lets his hand slip down from your head, petting down your hair to rest between your shoulder blades. “Uh, tomato soup. From the can.” 

You sigh blissfully. “You read my mind.”

[figthoughts]

What do u think Deans main kinks would be?? Tbf though I feel like he’d be into pretty much everything 😭 he’s a slut and we love him for it

you’re so real, that man loves sex and we do love him for it!!!! i personally hc dean as a switch, so i think his kinks would probably be quite general and would depend on his partner, but he’s definitely up for trying new things! 18+

— praise.

that man is heavily neglected when it comes to compliments and gentle touches. his eyes would light up at every little “you feel so good” or “good boy”. it doesn’t even matter if he’s praising you or the one being praised, he just loves seeing you happy and hearing how good he’s making you feel. he definitely sees sex as a way to relax and have fun with you, so he’d be all about wanting to make you feel beautiful and desired through praise and compliments. he shows his love through physical touch and gentle words.

— manhandling.

now hear me out with this. dean wouldn’t be big on being rough with you in the bedroom, considering how harsh the hunter life is. he’d want to be gentle with you, although he wouldn’t be super opposed to some choking or a cheeky little spank here and there. however, he’d love it if you got a little rough with him, like shoving him against a wall or onto the bed, just taking what you want. he’d definitely love when you get a little confident and grab him by the jaw to make him look at you or tug on his hair as he goes down on you. he just likes you touching him, even if it’s in a rougher way, it gets him all giddy and excited.

— teasing.

we all know this man is a brat. dean loves making inappropriate jokes that make you squirm and shoot him disapproving looks in public or touching you in teasing little ways, just to get you riled up. seeing you get all whiny and needy in the bedroom would make him go crazy, though he wouldn’t mind also being teased. in fact, he’d kinda love it. he’d love it if you’d walk around in tight little clothes, taunting him almost, or doing provocative little things just to mess with him. it’d be how you get him back. dean is definitely whining and begging if you tease him, “please, baby. i can’t take it anymore. need you so bad,” that kinda thing. he’d never tell you, but he loves it.

— roleplay.

dean would go crazy for a little roleplay with you. his favourite would definitely be cowboy x damsel in distress, although you playing naughty nurse would be a close second. initially, he’d be nervous about bringing up his lil fantasies with you. he’d wait until he knows you’re both comfortable enough with each other and your sex life. naturally, you wouldn’t be able to wipe the dopey grin off his face as you walk in wearing whatever silly little thing he asked you to. he’d just love it.

— cockwarming.

dean definitely is making you cockwarm him as soon as he gets back to see you after a hunt or something. just sitting in the deancave with his cock up your cunt as you watch some cheesy horror movie, neither of you bothering to move, just completely happy with feeling him inside you. of course, it would eventually lead to him pounding in and out of you, but at least for a while it’d be sweet and innocent.

— sonmo. (both consenting with prior discussion abt it)

this might be another hear me out, but considering dean is a slut, he’s up for sex just about anytime he can get it. he’d be extremely hesitant to try anything with you when you’re half asleep or fully unconscious (he just doesn’t wanna make you uncomfortable), but he’d be completely okay with waking up to his cock in your mouth or you using him while he’s half asleep to get yourself off late at night.

— mutual masturbation.

dean loves the idea of you touching yourself to the thought of him, so he’d definitely beg you to let him watch as you play with yourself. it’d start off slow, until his pants are so tight he has no choice but to let himself spring free and jerk himself off in front of you, while you’re busy trying to get off in front of him. he’d melt at that and the way you call his name when you cum. after that one time, dean’d beg you to let him watch again and again and again.

— edging.

this one’s definitely more-so for himself. dean’s definitely jacking it in motel showers when he’s on hunts, just edging himself in there to the thought of you. he’d be so close every time, your name on his lips as he strokes himself, but he’d pause his movements right before cumming, just teasing himself for as long as he can take it.

— public sex.

dean’s no stranger to a quickie in the impala or even perhaps in the alleyway behind a dingy little dive bar. the thrill of getting caught would drive him absolutely wild. he’d be gripping your jaw, whispering in your ear telling you to keep quiet and be good. public sex would probably force out a more dominant side of dean. he’d wanna have fun with you, whilst also making sure he’s in control of the situation just in case you actually do get caught.

— toys.

i’m not sure if i’d consider this a kink, but i’ll list it anyway. dean is definitely the kinda guy to see toys as an aid to better sex, instead of his competition. he’d love to see you writhing underneath him with a vibrator pressed against your pussy or perhaps even some handcuffs thrown into the mix (again, he’s not fussed on who’s being cuffed). he loves the idea of you using toys on your own when he’s away on hunts. he’d definitely be begging you over text to send him videos of you using them.

— other.

none of these are really kinks, but i do wanna mention them.

i fully believe at some point in your relationship, dean would bring up the idea of making a sex tape with you. it would be exclusively for yours and his eyes only, and he would definitely watch it and get off to it during hunts when you’re not there.

i also think dean would be a little cheeky and steal your panties to take away with him on longer hunts. sure, calling you and receiving pictures and videos helps when he’s away, but nothing beats the physicality of holding your panties in his hands, wrapping them around his cock and cumming into them. maybe this is something he does without telling you, but you’d know when a pair would go missing and then return when dean does. it wouldn’t take you long to figure out. and you wouldn’t really mind.

i believe anything to do with him causing you pain or distress would be a hard no for dean. he loves you and wants to make you feel good during sex, not see you all marked up and sore because of him. he wants you to feel safe and comfortable. he’s definitely the kinda guy to check in with you constantly, “does that feel good, baby? you want me to keep going?” or “tell me what you want”.

your comfortability and pleasure is number one priority for dean. always.

A/N: ahhh such a fun request. these are my personal headcanons for dean. idk how popular these opinions are but i see that man as a LOVER if he’s in a relationship!! <3

[so-i-did-this-thing]

Hello!

I wanted to ask a question, if that's okay. So, I'm genderfluid afab and feel like a man sometimes (probably more often than I allow myself to realise). I don't have access to a Binder or anything of that sort (transphobic parents).

Is there any way for me to look/be more masculine? I'm a bit scared of goggling because I don't want to accidentally take advice from Tate people or the like.

(PS. I really like your Siegfried Farnon cosplay!)

Heya!

This is a tough one to answer. Because "masculine" means different things to different people. And "passing", as well.

Like. When I wear my fleece jacket and baseball cap, I'm deliberately passing as a certain type of man. But I felt more masculine the other day wearing an ascot.

So, I think we need to break down this question:

1) If you're looking to pass, there are going to be trans masc guides out there that will direct you to a very particular gender presentation. They tend to assume you are white and skinny. They present themselves as a list of Dos and Do-Nots, and at the end of the day, do more harm than good, imo. Because passing guides are almost always about hiding parts of yourself physically, often to the expense of hiding parts of your psyche.

Seek them out if you must, but when it comes to passing for safety, all I can suggest is ambiguous layers, a hat, keeping your head down and your mouth shut. The best way to pass is to not draw attention to yourself, alas.

2) If you're looking to dress more masculine to alleviate gender dysphoria, then you need to drill down to what makes you dysphoric and start there. My smaller feet is one area of contention for me, so I look for semi-dressy shoes that look long and elegant (like Taft boots). Since you can't get a binder, consider layers, if your chest bothers you.

3) If you're looking to dress more masculine to seek gender euphoria, then figure out your aesthetic masculine ideal. Make a pinboard of Looks you enjoy and see if there are trends. Some folks are drawn to athletic wear. Work wear. Perhaps a vintage aesthetic -- Rockabilly. 90s grunge. 1940s British country vet (meeeee, lol).

Ask yourself: What are the hallmarks of this style? Are there casual and formal versions? How does it change seasonally? How much of it is clothing and how much of it is the body (haircut, being muscular, etc)? And above all - what is this style trying to communicate to others?

Once done, see what sort of fashion tips are out there for your style. Who are the fashion experts and how much do you care about their advice? (Menswear guy has great tips about how a modern suit "should" fit, but a lot of his advice is also personal preference with a big dollop of classism.)

Pay close attention to how men wear their clothes -- where they sit on the body, how they style the outfit. Compare how a man is styled in your preferred look to how a woman is styled and see what that sparks in you. How much of it is the clothing or body? How much is posture? You might discern some visual shorthand you can harness to be read as more masculine. You might also come up with ways to have plausible deniability around your parents by being able to pivot a masculine look to be more feminine, when needed.

After all this research, get yourself to a thrift shop or other second hand option and start experimenting. Buying actual men's clothing is probably going to be your best bet, but depending on your Look Book, that may not always be the case.

No one can tell you how to feel more masculine -- that really needs to come from within. Once you figure that out, then it's a matter of reconciling your ideal look with the peculiarities of your body. (And all men have their own challenges wrt the fit of clothes.)

Afford yourself as much grace as possible when it comes to your body. And again, remember that feeling more masculine and passing more masculine may not always overlap and could even be at odds. And only you can determine if and when that is a problem.

[kaijutegu]

hey friends if you're looking for a way to limit social media consumption because your family makes you sad or you get into some real dark thoughts whenever you open twitter, here's something good you can do for yourself.

first, figure out what your muscle memory social media sites are. like for me, i usually pop open a twitter or facebook tab regardless of what i'm doing. i don't think about it, my fingers just kinda. go there, for checking on stuff. i use other social media sites but i have to think about going there, these are just my muscle memory social media sites. oh before i go further, this is for desktop/laptop, my advice for mobile is just uninstall the app versions of your muscle memory social media sites are.

then, download LeechBlock. there's other blockers too but like, that's the one I use bc I enjoy its functionality.

throw your muscle memory sites into the blocker. one of the things I like so much about LeechBlock is that you can give it blocks of time that you can access the site. if you have people you're checking on, if you want to get news from wherever, that's ok, but genuinely, do not give yourself unfettered access to the worst of what humanity has to offer. because that's what a lot of these muscle memory social media platforms are. because that's what a lot of social media has become. (not you tungl.hell, you're special.)

anyways here's what i set up. i noticed that it's facebook and twitter being my scylla and charbydis of doomscrolling, so i just created a custom filter to block them and just set my time limit to forever.

and if you NEED access to these sites you can set up times where you can block them more specifically, but for me, accessing them in my main browser is... a bad idea.

see, the whole point of this is to wean me off of the muscle memory. i'm use to pressing f+enter and facebook comes up. now when i want to access fb, it's a pain in the ass. that minor inertia keeps me away from it, and i can still easily access it in my work browser when i need it for herp society stuff. but that tiny barrier to entry makes a huge difference.

another thing you can do is log out of these sites each time you leave and have it not remember your login and so that makes logging in an intentional choice each time, which is often a disincentive or at least promotes spending more time deciding to be there. but that's more work than my lazy set it and forget it method.

the truth is that these sites are not likely to help you unless you're doing something specific and can avoid most of your feed. even if you have lots of good friends and community, you can't opt out of the terrible algo posts, and they are going to serve up polarizing content and right now, you probably don't need that. or if you do, you need it in a more mindful context, you need to not be sort of... drifting to your social platforms. i'm not saying don't engage at all, i'm saying be smart and thoughtful about it. as always, you are responsible for curating your own internet experience, and this includes after a real bad election. this is a tool you can use to protect yourself and stop doomscrolling before it starts.

[the-bees-patella]

ok, well now what.

My fellow Americans: hello from your local pissed-the-fuck-off former community organizer.

You're probably seeing a lot of calls to support each other right now, and that's all well and good in principle. Where we tend to stumble is largely practical: we're not sure where, how, or when. The same way it works to make a plan to vote, make a plan to help. A few key points:

Please do not get impatient if the organization's response to you is late or generic at first, or if what you're asked to do isn't what you offered. A lot of local organizations—where your impact will be the greatest—are very small and 100% volunteer-run. You're here to help. Don't be one more thing they have to manage.

Be honest with yourself and the organization about your capacity. If that's a couple hours on a weekend from time to time, that's great. If that's driving people places once a month, if it's a small, regular donation—whatever it is, it's one more person helping who wasn't before. The point of doing it all together is that none of us can do everything, and it isn't on any one of us to do it all. It's much easier to scale up your participation than it is to take on a big responsibility and back out.

Stick with it. Everybody's fired up right now, and many organizations won't be lacking for personnel or funds...for now. They'll need you when it gets boring, when people get tired and busy. Whether it's recurring donations or one shift a week, stick with it for as long as you can, which is why see point 2 above. The need will not stop. The help can't either.

My aim with this brief list of organizations/funds is not to be comprehensive, it's more a starting point of both actual orgs and the types of opportunities there are out there. I highly encourage you to look around in your local community. There are people out there working on creative solutions in innovative ways to problems you didn't even know existed.

I know it might sound small or facile, but I promise, going out there and talking to real people will help. Just go to one meeting, on Zoom, in person, anything. Start there. Everything you're able to do is more than there was before.

Fascists thrive on despair and isolation, on mistrust and fear. But there is good in this world, it's worth fighting for, and you're part of it. The time is now. Let's fuck them up. (List below the cut).

If you're on bluesky, here is a much more specific list of organizations. If you're not, reply to this post or send me an ask with your region and I'll respond if I can. Everyone else, please feel free to add your local organizations in the reblogs. Make sure you do your vetting first; please link to a direct source/person/means of contact if you add something to the list.

Trainings and support for leaders to run for public school boards

And library boards

Black and brown youth organizing

Labor organizing in the South/Southwest

Mutual Aid in NYC/Donate to keep that mutual aid active

Mutual aid/volunteer orgs in DC

Supporting and training young progressives to run for office

Collective action against medical debt

Climate action

[meazalykov]

platonic?

catarina macario x younger!uswnt!reader

summary: your admiration for the older woman turns into a crush

warnings: three year age gap, long chapter

you are twenty-two lacing up for the next game with chelsea, the weight of the blue jersey settling around you like armor.  

this wasn’t new; you’d been doing this since seventeen, since you were a kid at the world cup, barely knowing how to handle all the pressure the world threw at you while winning one of the best trophies a footballer can have. 

somehow, you’d found yourself. at the end of 2019 you went on loan to lyon from gotham, ready to prove your talent to the best audience. 

you weren’t exactly alone though—there was catarina.

being eighteen when you first met catarina, fresh-faced and wide-eyed, you stepped into the lyon training grounds with the kind of awe you couldn’t hide. 

you were on loan, adjusting to life in a new country with a language you barely spoke, and everything felt monumental, as if even the smallest mistakes would echo. 

catarina, twenty-one, was already established and calm, someone who seemed to carry the weight of experience with ease– especially for someone who was young herself. 

she spotted you from across the pitch during your first training session, a quick flash of recognition in her smile as she walked over, her strides confident and sure. 

“hey!!! you’re from new york, right?” she asked, her tone light but curious, that american accent instantly grounding.

“yeah,” you replied, trying not to seem too overwhelmed.

“just... here for a season, you know?”

she grinned. 

“good. i was starting to miss american familiarity here.”

from that moment, a kind of natural mentorship developed between you. 

the three-year difference felt both small and huge; it wasn’t just the age, but the way she carried herself, the calm authority of someone who’d already figured a few things out. in frace, you could go with her anywhere. in america, she was allowed to attend the 21+ places while you had to stay behind with the young national teammates in the hotel rooms. 

little did you know, catarina knew what it was like to leave home for a career, to adapt, and maybe she saw a bit of herself in you, struggling to find your place.

you noticed the steady way she’d watch you on the field, the way she’d wait until after training to approach, giving pointers with a casual tone that softened the critique. 

“you’re trying to force the pass too soon. the forward could never get it without the defender clearing it away,” she’d say once, tossing you the ball after practice as you wiped the sweat off of your forehead with the blue lyon training kit. 

“take a breath, let the play build.”

she’d take the time to show you, positioning you on the field, demonstrating how to look for space, to feel the tempo of the game like it was a second pulse. 

“you’ve got great instincts and speed,” she’d say after you’d gotten it right, her voice warm with approval. 

“just trust them a bit more.”

it wasn’t only on the field that she guided you. early on, when you stumbled over french phrases at cafes or struggled with the simplest exchanges, she’d be there, patient and amused. 

the woman with brazilian ethnicity already knew a few languages. you didn’t, only growing up needing to speak english with very basic levels of spanish. 

sitting in a café with catarina, selma, and amandine–you squinted down at the menu, wrestling with a word that looked more intimidating than it probably was. 

“i can never get this one,” you muttered, half to yourself, as she leaned over your shoulder with a quiet smile.

“that one’s croque-monsieur,” she said, saying it slowly. 

“it’s like fancy– what do you guys call it, grilled cheese?” selma grinned with her strong french accent as you looked at catarina with suspicion. 

“she's right. you’ll like it, trust us.”

“croque-mon-seur?” you tried. all of the girls laughed while catarina started shaking her head. 

“you’ll get it,” she said, giving you a light nudge. 

as weeks turned into months, her presence became something you leaned on without realizing. she’d taken on this mentor role easily, with the kind of warmth that let you feel less alone in a new place. 

she taught you bits of french, not only in words but in the quiet encouragement she offered, like the language itself was something you could share.

on the field, you started to shadow her during drills, watching how she played as an attacking mid—the same position as you. you found yourself asking questions, hungry to learn more even with skill abnormal for a youngster.

cata always answered with that patient tone, never making you feel as though you were asking too much.

during national breaks, there's always a different energy. a familiar choas you’ve come to love since being called up in the 2019 world cup. 

being back with the uswnt squad feels like stepping visiting old friends– because you are. catarina is steady, and calm. on the national team though, you’re usually the one starting over her, especially as the attacking mid, unlike at lyon due to the amount of caps you have over the woman that's older than you. 

she never lets any jealousy slip, always the first to give a pat on the back or a quiet word of praise that lingers more than it probably should.

the locker room screams with excitement before the friendly against portugal, and you’re tying up your signature purple boots, mentally running through the plays. 

suddenly, cat is sitting beside you, her familiar grin softening the tension that’s been settling in your shoulders. maybe its her hands resting your shoulders too.

“you look ready to score a hat trick today,” she murmurs, nudging your shoulder. 

“don’t push it,” you laugh. 

“starting lineup, a vet on the team. you notice how much the coaches and the staff trust you, huh?”

you manage a smile, a bit of heat creeping to your face. 

“they’re trusting me to just... you know, not mess it up too bad.”

she scoffs lightly, her hand moving down to rest on your arm. 

“y/n, you’re seriously too humble,” she says, voice low and just between the two of you. 

“i’ve watched you since i met you in lyon. you have this... confidence, even when you don’t realize it. you don’t just belong here; you are the standard. do you know how insane that is being nineteen years old,” the twenty-two year old rants.

your face feels hot, and you look down, hoping she doesn’t notice the slight blush you can feel creeping up. 

“yeah, well, it’s just pre-game stuff, you know? everyone gets this way.”

she tilts her head, a small smile playing at her lips. 

“sure, if ‘pre-game stuff’ means having every player watching you just to see how it’s done or what to do next.” she moves closer, her voice dropping even lower. 

“you’re more than good, y/n. i’d watch you play any day.”

the words linger, carrying a weight you don’t want to examine too closely. she’s always been supportive, always the first to praise you, but somehow her words feel different today, more intense, and it settles in your chest, creating a strange, fluttering warmth you refuse to acknowledge.

“thanks, cat,” you mumble, fiddling with your shin guard. 

“i just... i appreciate it. and you know, don’t be too complimentary. i still have to actually do my job out there.”

she laughs, soft and genuine, her hand squeezing your arm before pulling away. 

“oh, don’t worry. i’ll be out there to keep you in check if your ego gets too big.”

just as you try to shake off the blush spreading across your cheeks, she leans in, her eyes catching yours in a way that makes it impossible to look away. “but, y/n,” she murmurs, her voice softer, almost affectionate, “don’t hold back out there.” 

you swallow, heart thudding harder than usual. 

“i… yeah. yeah, no holding back.”

she smirks, giving you one last, lingering glance before she walks away, leaving you trying to convince yourself that your racing pulse is just the pre-game jitters.

skipping two months later– you were so happy winning the champions league with lyon. you felt as if you were standing at the peak of everything you’d worked toward.

the final whistle echoed in your ears, your teammates’ arms wrapped around you in victory since you delivered a goal and two assists for the 4-2 win.

right there beside you was catarina, her face alight with that mix of joy and pride that only winning a title brings. the two of you had spent a year pushing each other to new limits, and this—this win felt like the culmination of everything. 

the celebration was wild, electric, stretching late into the night, but a bittersweet feeling hung in the back of your mind. 

you knew what came next: you’d have to return to new york, back to gotham.

a week back in new york, trying to settle back into familiar routines, you still found yourself thinking about lyon, about that feeling of playing on european soil, where the game felt more appreciated. 

the stakes somehow higher. you missed the thrill, the challenge, and most of all, you missed catarina’s presence on the field, her constant encouragement, her quiet, steady influence.

and then the call came from chelsea.

it was unexpected, a five-year contract offered by the london club, and the details? promising—more than you’d hoped for. it was an opportunity to stay in europe, to grow in a league you’d admired from afar, and in that instant, the decision felt like a piece of fate falling into place. 

chelsea felt right, like the next step, and the choice was almost immediate. within days, you found yourself preparing for a new chapter in london.

it’s 2022, and as you settle into your new life in london, there’s a sense of excitement that only grows with each passing day. the new team, the city, the endless possibilities—it feels fresh, like you’re on the edge of something big. 

yet, in quiet moments, you feel a pang of nostalgia for your year in lyon, for the late-night talks with catarina after long training days, the ease of sharing the same field, the bond you’d built. 

at chelsea, you built a good bond with all of your teammates. you’ve gotten to be close friends with lauren while having magda as your mentor. 

you missed catarina though, you had no idea why. she’d been more than just a teammate—she’d been a friend, a mentor, and you knew that her absence at the club level would be felt deeply.

you remind yourself that national breaks aren’t far off. you’ll see her again soon enough, the familiar red, white, and blue kit would be uniting you once more.

at chelsea, your time quickly became more than just playing football; it felt like finding a new family. 

magdalena, with her calm authority and easy smile, became an older sister figure, a presence you leaned on during tough games or even just long training sessions. pernille was right there beside her, offering a comforting mix of humor and insight that kept you grounded. 

together, they were like this solid, reassuring pair, and they had a way of making you feel like you belonged.

emma, your coach, saw something in you which is why she wanted you at the club per her request. she pushes you forward and shapes you into a player who could meet the intensity of the league.

 

her guidance, paired with the steady support of magda and pernille, along with your now bestfriend lauren, helped you grow both on and off the field.

at the end of the 22/23 season, magda and pernille gathered you aside after a practice session, their expressions a bit more serious than usual. magda was the first to speak.

“we wanted you to hear it from us,” she started, giving your arm a light squeeze. 

“pernille and i are… we’re leaving chelsea.”

you blinked, trying to process. 

“wait, leaving? like… transferring?”

pernille nodded, her smile soft but sad. 

“to bayern. it’s… it’s a chance for us to play together in germany, and we felt like this was the right time.”

you felt a pang in your chest, sadness bubbling up because you couldn’t imagine chelsea without them. but you couldn’t hold back a smile either, one that came from genuine happiness for them. 

“i’m gonna miss you both,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, 

“but i’m so happy you’re doing this together.”

magda pulled you into a hug, her arms warm and steady around you. 

“you’ll always have us, no matter where we go.”

you laughed, hugging them both tightly. 

“and i expect updates… lots of them.”

it wasn’t long after they left when lauren walked up to you one morning in the lounge, an unusual grin on her face.

as you were twirling your iced coffee together, making sure the creamer mixed well with the blonde coffee, lauren stops your wrist with a smirk. 

“heard the news?” lauren asked, a twinkle in her eye.

“what news?” you replied, eyebrows raised as you sit the paper cup down on the counter.

“your friend catarina is coming to chelsea. emma signed her on for a few seasons.”

you laughed, shaking your head. 

“yeah, right, lauren.”

lauren can be a jokster sometimes. however, she crossed her arms, looking far too pleased with herself. 

“seriously. emma wanted her on the team, and cat’s contract with lyon was up. she’ll be here to visit us at training soon.”

the idea sounded impossible, almost surreal. cat, here? with you, at chelsea?

it wasn’t until you saw her stepping onto the training field, a black crossbody bag slung over her shoulder, that it hit you. you froze, hardly believing your eyes until she spotted you, her familiar smile breaking across her face. 

before you knew it, you were running toward her, your feet barely touching the ground as you threw yourself into her arms.

“cat!” you exclaimed, nearly breathless.

she laughed, pulling you into a tight hug. 

“hey! god, it’s good to see you.”

pulling back, making sure to consider her knee injury, you couldn’t help but grin, words spilling out all at once. 

“i can’t believe you’re here! lauren told me, but i thought she was messing with me.”

cat shook her head, her own smile warm and genuine as she holds your waist. 

“nope, it’s real. looks like we’re back on the same team.”

just as you opened your mouth to ask about training together, her expression shifted, a slight grimace.

“i know, but with my knee its going to be a while.”  she hesitated, glancing down at her knee. 

“its alright, you’ll come back stronger!” you smile, your dimples showing as you show catarina around the place before you had to go to training practice. 

six months later– it’s 2024. catarina’s first day to light training feels like an event, with the entire team gathered in the gym to show support for her coming back from an acl injury. 

everyone’s happy, cheering her on as she settles in for her workout. you stand close by, eyes fixed on her as she picks up the barbell, your attention unwavering. this is a huge step for cat, and you want to be there for her.

as cat positions herself to start her barbell step-ups, sjoeke moves in, hands up, ready to help spot her. 

“i got you, cat,” she says with a smile, stepping up beside her.

before you realize it, you’re already speaking, your voice coming out firm, almost a little too quick as you step behind cat beside sjoeke. 

“no, it’s fine, sjo. i’ll help her.” 

sjoeke pauses, raising an eyebrow at your tone, her smile shifting into something almost skeptical. she looks between you and cat, the air thick with a subtle tension. 

“really?” she asks, voice edged with a hint of challenge. 

“because i can spot her, y/n.”

“i don’t mind,” you insist, feeling the warmth creep up your neck, realizing how eager you sound. 

“i can handle it.”

there’s a beat of silence, the weight of your words hanging in the air, and sjoeke’s expression softens, the hint of a smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. her eyes narrow slightly, an amused glint in her gaze as she takes in your stance, the way your attention doesn’t waver from cat. 

she puts her hands up, taking a step back with a knowing look. 

“alright, y/n. she’s all yours.”

the team’s eyes are on you as you step into place beside catarina, your focus sharpening as you move in to spot her. cat glances up, smiling at you. 

“thanks,” she says softly, her eyes warm, trusting.

“anytime,” you murmur, feeling the faintest flicker of nerves as you help steady her. your hands hover near her shoulders, close enough to catch her if needed, your gaze lingering on her face longer than you intended. 

she doesn’t seem to notice, focused on her workout, but you can’t help the way your eyes trace the line of her jaw, the curve of her shoulders, the way her breath deepens with each step up. 

there’s an intimacy in the moment that feels almost palpable, and you struggle to tear your gaze away, as if caught in something you’re not ready to admit to.

from the wall, lauren’s leaning back, watching with a bemused smile as you stay glued to cat’s side, every bit the protective spotter. 

when she catches the way you look at cat, something just a bit too intense, she comes over to you after you finish helping cat.

“so,” lauren starts, her voice a low murmur, 

“what’s with that look?”

you shoot her a glance, brushing it off. 

“what look?”

she raises an eyebrow, grinning. 

“you’re looking at her like she’s a piece of cheesecake or some shit?”

“i don’t know,” you mutter, shrugging, trying to keep your tone casual, but lauren isn’t buying it.

“right, you just happened to nearly elbow sjoeke out of the way to help her.” she nudges you, clearly entertained as you walk out of the gym area with lauren following. 

“i didn’t know you were so... possessive.”

“i’m just helping a teammate, lauren,” you say, a bit more defensively than you meant.

she laughs, exchanging a look with katie, who’s been watching with a raised eyebrow. 

“teammate, huh? well, looks like you’re a really supportive one. maybe you could give me a back massage,”

“gross,” you laugh while rolling your eyes playfully. 

you make your way to the lounge, hoping to avoid further questions. as you step in, ashley, mille, and zecira are all sitting together, looking up as lauren walks in behind you, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“guys, guess what i just saw,” lauren announces, voice full of laughter. 

“y/n practically staking a claim on catarina during training.”

you feel the heat rising to your face, reaching for a protein bar to keep your hands busy. 

“lauren, do you ever shut up?” you mutter, trying to play it off, but the room erupts in laughter.

ashley shakes her head, grinning wide. 

“i fucking knew it! i knew you had a little thing for cat.”

“please,” you scoff, rolling your eyes as you open the protein bar. 

“you all have overactive imaginations.”

just as you think you might have a chance to let it blow over… sam, who sits on the couch beside mille, finishes her call with her fiance kristie, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. 

“so, y/n,” she starts, her grin just as playful, 

“you gonna do something about this little crush, or what?”

you sigh, taking a bite of the protein bar. 

“what crush?”

everyone around you laughs, clearly not fooled, and as much as you try to deny it, you can’t shake the way your heart jumps whenever you’re around cat.

march 2024 arrives and it feels like the start of something new and familiar all at once. it’s game day against leicester city, but there’s an extra pulse of excitement coursing through the chelsea locker room as everyone pulls on their light blue kits. 

for you, this game holds a different kind of significance: it’s the first time you’ll be sharing the pitch with catarina since your days at lyon, and though she won’t be starting, just knowing she’s there—back from the injury that’s kept her away from the game she loves—adds a layer of warmth to everything.

you catch her watching you from across the locker room, her gaze dropping from your eyes to linger as you adjust your shirt and tug on your socks. it’s almost enough to make your breath hitch, and it doesn’t help that the kit has a snug fit, a sleek light blue that seems to catch her attention. 

her eyes trail up slowly, as if she’s memorizing every detail, and when her gaze meets yours, she looks away with a small, shy smile. 

erin, sitting beside her, sees it all and nudges cat in the shoulder with a smirk that says she’s absolutely onto her.

the pre-game energy is high as you head out onto the field, and while you’d usually be in the midfield, today you’re positioned as left-back. the shift feels strange, like wearing a jacket that’s just slightly too big. you tell yourself to adjust, to focus on the rhythm of the game and do your part.

as the whistle blows and the play begins, you find yourself absorbed in the moment, thoughts of cat lingering but pushed to the back as you settle into the role.

in the 38th minute, an opportunity opens. bjorn is making a move toward the box, slipping past defenders, her eyes focused and ready. you’re aware of the ball at your feet, feeling the familiar weight of it as you move up the wing. scanning the field, you find the angle and send a cross sailing toward bjorn, hoping she’ll connect. 

she times her jump perfectly, meeting the ball with a header that sends it directly into the net. the crowd erupts, a sea of blue cheering as your teammates swarm bjorn in celebration. 

a grin spreads across your face, pride surging as you run back to position, your gaze flicking to the bench where you spot cat clapping, her eyes on you, the corners of her mouth pulled into an admiring smile.

the game presses on, and in the 44th minute, you spot another chance. mayra’s waiting near the edge of the box, finding an opening just wide enough for a clean shot. slipping past the defender, you send the ball right to her feet. 

she doesn’t waste a second, taking the shot and sending it straight into the net with a perfect strike. you jump on her back in celebration, happy to give the second assist for a player that is out of position.

it's 2-0 before halftime, and as you jog back, you’re buzzing with the energy of the lead.

the walk to the locker room is filled with celebratory chatter, but as soon as you settle onto the bench, your mind starts to go over every play. being out of position has you feeling exposed, vulnerable in a way that’s hard to shake. 

you sit there, running through every mistake, every step you might have taken wrong, the weight of your own expectations pressing down on your shoulders.

even with the two assists, you’re surprised that no defensive errors you’ve committed ended up with a conceding goal. 

you’re so lost in thought that you don’t notice cat coming up beside you until her hand lands gently on your shoulder, her voice soft and soothing. 

“hey,” she murmurs, leaning in slightly so only you can hear. 

“you’re doing great out there. seriously, y/n.”

you manage a nod, though your shoulders still feel tense. she must notice, because without a word, she pulls you into a hug, her arms wrapping around you in a way that feels grounding. 

the warmth of her hand on your back, tracing gentle circles, starts to ease the tension, her touch a reminder to breathe.

“you’ve got this,” she whispers, her voice steady and close, almost like a secret between the two of you. 

“you’re holding it down out there, trust me. emma even said that you’re doing great defensively for someone that's mainly an attacker.”

you let yourself lean into her a little more, savoring the reassurance, her breath warm against your temple. it feels grounding, safe, and for a moment, you don’t want to let go. 

there’s something about the way her arms hold you, strong yet gentle, that makes the anxiety ebb away, leaving a warmth that has nothing to do with the game.

just then, sjoeke clears her throat from across the room. 

“gross,” she calls out, a playful grin on her face. 

“get a room, you two.”

you and cat pull back, laughing, though you feel the heat rush to your face as she lets go, her hand lingering on your arm for a moment longer than necessary. 

“thanks, cat,” you say softly, offering her a smile.

“anytime,” she replies, her gaze lingering, warm and full of something you can’t quite name.

you head back out for the second half, but she stays on the bench, still recovering, cheering from the sidelines. knowing she’s there, watching, makes you feel a little lighter, your movements sharper, steadier. 

it’s the 72nd minute, you’re  focused on pushing up the left flank, linking up with your attackers, and keeping your defensive responsibilities in check. your eyes scan the field, watching for openings, and it’s only when you catch lauren jogging toward the sideline and the fourth ref holding up the number board that you realize who’s coming on in her place. 

catarina is stepping onto the pitch, and despite your efforts to keep composed, a bright smile tugs at your lips. this is the first time in so long that you’ll be playing together, and for once, you let yourself admit it, if only silently—you have a crush on her.

you turn your attention back to the field, your heart beating a little quicker, that sense of familiarity and excitement building with each touch of the ball. 

she’s out here with you now, right where you’ve wanted her to be, and knowing she’s nearby is enough to make you feel even more determined.

in the 78th minute, you get the ball near midfield and start driving up, your pace quickening as you swerve around a few defenders. your feet are light, every movement fluid as you weave through their attempts to block you. 

when you reach the edge of the box, you catch sight of cat, her positioning perfect. without a second thought, you use the outside of your foot to send a quick pass in her direction, the ball rolling smoothly toward her.

cat doesn’t hesitate. she meets the ball with a precise kick, sending it past the goalkeeper and straight into the net. 

as the crowd erupts, you can’t help the excitement that surges through you. before you know it, you’re running toward her, a wide grin on your face, arms open as you close the distance.

“cat!” you shout, laughter in your voice as you reach her, wrapping her in a hug. her arms come around you instantly, holding you tight, and for a moment, it feels like the entire stadium fades away, leaving just the two of you in the center of the pitch.

“we did it,” she murmurs, her voice soft, just for you to hear.

“that was all you!” you cheer.

you feel her grip on you tighten, and your heart swells as the rest of the team joins in, everyone piling into the group hug, laughter and cheers filling the air.

the game’s finally  over, and the stadium is cheering with the energy of chelsea’s victory. you’ve got a genuine grin on your face, eyes drawn to cat as she makes her way through a string of congratulatory hugs from the team. 

she’s radiant, practically glowing in the aftermath of the match, and watching her light up like that stirs something deep within you. but, as thrilled as you are for her, there’s a quiet, nagging feeling creeping up in your chest.

a thought crosses your mind—would she ever really want to be with you? maybe you’re too young, too inexperienced for someone like her. what if she doesn’t even like women? the doubts start stacking up in your mind as you watch her laughing with the others, and it’s impossible to shake the feeling of insecurity as it clouds over your happiness, just for a moment.

emma notices your gaze, the way your smile flickers, and sidles up beside you. 

“everything alright?” she asks, her tone casual but her eyes knowing.

you hesitate, then decide to be honest. 

“i just... i don’t know. it’s nothing, really,” you mumble, but emma doesn’t let it go.

“it doesn’t look like nothing,” she says with a small smile, glancing over at cat. 

“you know, it’s pretty obvious on both sides.”

you blink, taken aback. 

“both sides?”

emma nods. 

“cat likes you too. maybe she doesn’t always show it in the ways you expect, but... it’s there. the entire team can see it.”

her words sink in, warm and reassuring, but also nerve-wracking. what does that mean? do you dare to take it seriously?

before you can ask more, emma steps away, and cat is suddenly in front of you again, grinning and pulling you into a tight, warm hug. the embrace is so close, her arms wrapping around you in a way that feels like more than just a friendly gesture. 

you can feel the steadiness of her breathing, the warmth of her body against yours, and a part of you wishes you could stay like this, here in her arms, forever.

neither of you says anything, and in the quiet of the moment, you’re just holding each other, lost in the feeling. around you, you notice a few chelsea fans snapping pictures, murmurs about a possible new couple, but you don’t even care. 

you’re caught up in her warmth, in the closeness, until you finally let go, smiling softly at her.

later, as the team heads off, you invite a few people over to your apartment to relax. most are too tired to celebrate, and honestly, you’re relieved—hosting company sounds exhausting after a long day, and you’re happy enough to have a quiet night to yourself. 

you head home, showering and settling into your soft pajamas, the contentment from the day still making you smile.

you’re about to head to bed when a knock at the door catches your attention. curious, you pad over and look through the peephole, only to see cat standing there, hands in her sweatpant pockets, looking slightly unsure. 

you quickly unlock and open the door, blinking at her in surprise.

“cat, what are you doing here? it’s almost midnight,” you say, though a grin creeps onto your face.

she shrugs, grinning back. 

“you did say you were hosting company, didn’t you?”

you chuckle, stepping aside to let her in. 

“okay, you got me. want something to drink? i’ve got water, maybe some juice…”

she watches you as you head to the kitchen, her eyes flicking over you, taking in your comfortable clothes and how your body fits in them. 

“water’s fine,” she says, though her gaze lingers a little longer, sending a flutter through your stomach.

you hand her the glass, and as she takes it, you notice her eyes lingering again, tracing over your face, down to your lips, then quickly looking away. the subtle glances have your heartbeat picking up, the room suddenly feeling warmer. 

the way she’s looking at you is... different. intense. it’s as if there’s something unspoken between you, simmering beneath the surface.

she catches you watching her and raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. 

“why are you looking at me like that?”

caught off guard, you feel the heat rising to your cheeks, but, with the comfort of your apartment and the courage you feel just from being around her, you answer truthfully. 

“because... you look beautiful,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. the words leave your lips before you even fully realize it, but you don’t regret them.

cat’s eyes widen, her smile softening. she sets down her glass, then takes a step closer, so close that you can feel her warmth radiating. without another word, she reaches for you, pulling you down onto the couch and gently guiding you to sit on her lap. 

you can’t help the small smile that sneaks onto your face as you settle, feeling her hands resting on your hips, grounding you in the moment.

“what are we doing here?” you ask, your voice quiet, curiosity sparking with a mix of nerves and excitement.

cat’s hand brushes a strand of hair away from your face, her thumb tracing lightly against your cheek. “i don’t know... what do you want us to be?” she murmurs, her gaze intense, searching yours for a hint of what you’re feeling.

you swallow, feeling a rush of confidence at her words, the encouragement in her tone. your eyes flick to her lips, and before you can second-guess yourself, you ask, 

“can i kiss you?”

she doesn’t respond with words, just leans forward, her lips meeting yours in a soft, lingering kiss that sends a shiver down your spine. her hand settles on your hip, gentle but possessive, grounding you as you melt into her. 

when you pull back slightly, your heart pounding, you manage a small smile, feeling braver than before.

“will you... will you be my girlfriend?” you whisper, barely able to contain the hope in your voice.

her answering smile is warm and bright, and without a moment’s hesitation, she pulls you back into her embrace, her lips finding yours once more. 

“absolutely.”

masterlist

[a-student-out-of-time]

An Important Reminder In Trying Times

Hey everyone, Mod Bubbles here.

I know that I've said over and over that I don't like talking about politics on here, but I really feel the need to say this:

This Is Not The End.

I understand things probably seem really bleak right now. A lot of people are going to be hurt by this, and the sheer amount of fearmongering and worst case scenarios are inescapable. But the country and the world are not going to change overnight. To be honest, it may not change very much at all in the next four years. I'm not a political scientist, so I can't tell you that for sure. There's a lot to be concerned about.

What I can tell you, as a student of history, is this: not only have we survived this once, we have survived this every time.

Think about it this way: every single tyrant, every single right-wing representative, every single emperor and colonial power, every corporate scumbag and power-hungry lunatic. No matter how many of them have ever come to power, held onto power, and tried to make themselves seem invincible, not a single one has ever held back humanity's progress and not a single one has proven to be invincible.

There were countries throughout history, especially in the 20th century, that fell under brutal dictatorships and saw countless lives lost. Did the people just give up and accept it? Fuck no they didn't. They fought back. Many of them lived to see democracy restored to their lands in their lifetimes, or fought to see it restored in their children's.

From Europe to Latin America, while many countries still have their issues, they endured and their people have survived. Their governments were not invincible, just as none ever have been.

Regardless of the outcome of this election, the world will go on. People will not just roll over and accept whatever horrible things happen, the fight will continue and we will do everything in our power to carry on as we always have. We'll carry on to achieve bigger and better things.

Let me also be clear: if you feel the need to cry, please cry. If you're afraid, don't pretend you're not. If you're angry, allow yourself to feel that anger. But if you're seriously contemplating giving up or hurting yourself, please don't.

You may hear all this news and ask yourself, "Bubbles, what's the point? What can I do about all this?" I've felt that way too, I have for a long time. I understand completely. It's scary and overwhelming, but I'll tell you exactly what you can do to fight against that: you can be kind.

Do you want to know where the most tangible change in the world begins? It's never at the top. It begins with people like us on a communal level, where we reach out to help others. Whether that means we help our neighbors, our friends, or any strangers we can.

Going out of your way to start fights, looking for someone to blame based on the flimsiest justifications, and just being cruel because you're angry, those aren't how you change anything. Those just add to the problem.

Here's just some ideas on what you can do instead:

Get away from the news, stop doomscrolling, mute doomers, and turn the TV and news apps off. This will get you out of a negative feedback loop that'll make you feel worse and more powerless, which is what they're designed to do in order to maximize traffic.

Remember to eat, sleep, brush your teeth, take a shower, take your meds, and do everything else you need to do to stay healthy.

If you or someone else really feel like leaving the country for your own safety is best, you can still work do so. But please don't convince yourself that if you can't, it's over.

Give back to people as much as you can. Show the people in your life who support you that you care, and that all that they do for you matters.

Donate to good causes you believe in.

Stand up to bullshit whenever you see it.

Do not give up on your dreams and ambitions. One bad leader does not mean your future automatically ends. Stop worrying about any potential apocalypse in the future, because you can do that even on the best days, and instead work toward a future that you CAN achieve.

There's this pervasive and very inaccurate idea that it's only the president who gets to enforce policies on the country. This ignores governors, the House of Representatives, Congress, mayors, and the countless other leaders involved. And it ignores you.

You do not have to spend the next 3 years and 364 days doing nothing but feeling miserable. In fact, that's the last thing you should do. Fear and despair are the weapons they wield, and they only have as much power as you allow them to have over you.

If your view of politics is that you just have to vote for the "right one" and then everything will be utopian, or that if people vote for the wrong one" then we're headed for a terrible dystopian nightmare, I have to tell you that that is incredibly reductionist and also very dumb. I can also tell you from personal experience that it's not them who make the real changes where it's needed.

A friend sent me a video that really opened my eyes on this situation: Adam Conover, the guy behind Adam Ruins Everything, said he's not worried about all this. Why? Because he and some friends were able, through their own power, to make real positive changes in their community. They were able to bring homelessness down in their district by over 38% through their own efforts.

And he's right that, as a silver lining to all this, it made more Americans than ever take a stand against all the horrible shit they were seeing and get involved with solutions.

Speaking from my own experiences as well, when Hurricane Helene devastated my area, it wasn't the politicians who came and repaired roads and power lines, it wasn't them who brought in food and supplies to everyone, and it wasn't them who worked tirelessly to save people still in need. It was everyone in our local communities.

The people at the top have never really cared about anything more than your money and your vote, but the people around you care more than you may believe they would. Hell, even strangers on the internet care more than you'd believe.

Now, even if you've made it this far, you may be wondering "What about when he starts outlawing and banning things?" To that, I say look at Prohibition and see how well that went. Politicians have only ever operated under the idea that banning something will make it go away, and it always does the exact opposite. And if you're still worried, you can get involved with organizations that fight to support these things being available and regulated.

But by now, you may also be wondering "What if I can't get involved? What if I'm too young or I don't have the money, or my parents won't let me?"

Then just be kind.

Stop looking for enemies to blame. Don't martyr yourself for some nebulous cause or the idea that your suffering increasing means the rest of the suffering in the world will go down. Don't torture yourself by telling yourself that you didn't do enough.

Show compassion, show support, show love and genuine care toward people who need it, including yourself.

"But there's so many shitty people in this country and the world, why should I-" Stop thinking that way. This isn't about them, this is about you and how you can make a difference. There will probably always be shitheads and power-hungry morons, but that does not negate the fact that you can choose to be different. You can choose to be kind.

Kindness is a sword that you have to learn how to wield. Wield it responsibly and use it to help others. No matter how small or insignificant it may be, YOU DO MAKE A DIFFERENCE.

I say all this as a 29-year-old who spent most of his life feeling scared and miserable about so many current events, convincing myself I'm useless and selfish because I was worried about so much and I hated myself for all of it. And I've decide I'm not going to do that anymore.

During the last right-wing era, I managed to help build a whole community out of my love for Danganronpa. I created friendships, relationships, and there are people alive right now because I chose to do so. Because I chose to use that community for kindness. I want to keep building from there by going into streaming and reaching out to more people.

I won't lie to you and say that I'm not scared, because I am. But I'm also not going to let fear change who I am. I want us all to be better to ourselves and others, because that is how you defeat hate. It starts with you.

And if you're still concerned, let me share with you a quote from The Great Dictator, a movie made in 1940, when World War II wasn't even at its height yet:

To those who can hear me, I say - do not despair. The misery that is now upon us is but the passing of greed - the bitterness of men who fear the way of human progress. The hate of men will pass, and dictators die, and the power they took from the people will return to the people. And so long as men die, liberty will never perish…

Please take care of yourselves out there, everyone. We'll get through this, just as we always have.