#not as bad as me being gone for two years

[jinhyun]

—lost in translation.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

genre: a little angst, fluff, best friend’s little brother au, friends to lovers, pininggggg, miscommunication (gone right?)

word count: 5.2k

summary: hyunjin needed answers and he needed them now. even if it meant showing up at your place late at night with a few drinks in his system, ready for things to go either terribly wrong or incredibly right.

warnings: miscommunication, mentions of alcohol and drinking

author’s note: hellooo, and thank you so much for being so patient<3 this is part 23 of my social media au “heart out”. part 24 will be written as well, so don’t worry if there were a few things left unsaid in this one lol. as always, i hope you guys enjoy! if you do, please don’t forget to leave an ask or a comment telling me your thoughts on it<3

Hyunjin was usually a very chill and spontaneous person. He did things when he felt like it, without really giving it much thought. If he wanted to do something and it felt right, then why would he hold back? He could always deal with the consequences of his own actions later.

When it came to you, however, he was the complete opposite.

Ever since he met you, he had been tiptoeing his way around your heart.

He wanted to do things right when it came to you, and, as a result, his interactions with you throughout the years tended to end up with him overthinking instead of doing.

Starting with him hiding his feelings and keeping his interactions with you to the minimum when he was still a high schooler, to him still hiding his feelings while trying to get closer to you when he entered university, to then still say nothing about them when you started dating Mingyu, up until now, that he finally got another shot at getting close to you, yet he still refused to confess his feelings until you were ready to hear it.

And that was the thing, if it were up to him and acting accordingly to how he felt in the moment, he would’ve confessed a long time ago — probably back in his first year of university, particularly when he found out you and Mingyu were dating and he felt like calling you up and letting it all out. But he wouldn’t, because although it would be a huge weight to get off his shoulders, he wouldn’t want you to deal with the burden of knowing he loved you when you didn’t love him back; not like that, at least.

He wouldn’t confess, because he didn’t want you to feel bad for not being there just yet, if ever.

He didn’t want to ruin what the two of you had because of a whim, and so he decided to deal with his feelings on his own. Until he knew for sure that you were ready to hear a confession from him, he wouldn’t say the words out loud to you.

Of course, that was up until this evening.

After coming to the conclusion that Dahye had followed her word and told you about his feelings for you, and having you distance yourself from him ever since, which could only mean you didn’t feel the same and were preparing to turn him down; and, furthermore, after hearing from Yeji that you wouldn’t mind going out with her twenty three year old coworker once you were ready to date again, there was no room in his head for him to think of the consequences of confessing to you anymore.

If you were turning him down anyway, if you were going out with someone else anyway… if he was losing you anyway, then what did he have to lose by finally letting you know how deeply he felt for you?

Maybe it was the alcohol he’d been consuming with his friends that night, or maybe it was just him simply not giving a fuck anymore — maybe both.

Whatever it was, it was giving him the final push he needed, for he was now standing outside your building, ignoring the freezing breeze of the night —as the black cotton sportswear he was wearing did little to nothing to keep him warm—, while he desperately texted you in hopes of you being awake and letting him come up, so you would finally get to talk and turn him down if that’s what you wanted to do in the end.

If you were turning him down at one point in the next two days, he would rather have you do it now.

He felt like he was going insane; like no matter what the outcome was, whether you turned him down or not, he would collapse if he didn’t get an answer within the next few minutes.

When you wouldn’t answer his texts and there were no signs of you being online, he decided to call you instead. He wasn’t giving up that easily that night, if at all.

It only took one missed call and ten more seconds waiting on the line for you to pick up.

“Hyunie?” Your sleepy yet worried voice was enough to quiet his running thoughts down. “Something happened? Are you alright?”

He stayed silent for a moment, staring up at your window.

“Hyunie?” You repeated. He heard you shift in your bed, and then he saw the light in your room turn on. “Are you there?”

“Can I come up?” He asked quietly.

Silence filled the line for a moment. “What?”

“I texted you… I think you didn’t see it” he explained. “I’m outside your building. Can I please come up? I know it’s late, but I need to talk to you now”.

“Y-Yeah… of course” you failed to hide how taken aback you were. “Help yourself in”.

“Okay…”

Hanging up, his eyes went to the front door to your building, and he suddenly felt the weight of what was about to come on his shoulders. But he was already here, and even if he turned around and went home instead, he knew he would not be able to sleep for the second night in a row as long as he didn’t clear things up with you.

He was already here and you were waiting for him upstairs, so he might as well rushed up to you.

-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡

Entering the passcode he knew by heart, he made his way into your place; taking off his shoes and putting on the slippers you kept by the door for your guests, which he knew were pretty much his by now.

As expected, all the lights were out except from the one in your bedroom, where he caught you coming out from.

He would never get tired of seeing you barefaced; and the slightly messy hair you were running your fingers through in a quick attempt to fix, along with the pastel pink silk pyjamas you were wearing, could only make him adore you even more. However, you looked tired, and he couldn’t help but feel bad for waking you up.

“Hey” he mumbled, suddenly feeling the madness inside his head calm down at the mere sight of you.

“Hey…” you softly greeted him back, leaning against your doorframe and resting your head on it. “Did something happen?”

He denied with his head, coming closer to you. “Just couldn’t wait anymore to talk to you, I’m sorry”.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him, slightly frowning when you got a closer look at him. “Have you been drinking?”

A small, surprised pout formed on his lips. What gave it away? His eyes? Was he reeking of alcohol? Or did you know him so well that a simple look at him was enough for you to tell when something was off?

“Just had a few drinks with the boys, it’s nothing” he brushed it off.

“You didn’t drive here, did you?”

“No, of course not” he was the one to frown this time. “I’m fine, though”.

You said nothing, but he caught the hesitation in your eyes.

“I’m fine, Y/N” he reassured you one last time. “I didn’t drink that much anyway”.

Just enough for his inhibitions to shut down; not enough not to realise what he was doing.

“Okay…” you decided to believe him.

With a light tilt of your head, you invited him into your room, where the lightning was better — although the dim light coming from the white lamp on your nightstand could only make him feel sleepier.

You sat down on the edge of your unmade bed, as you’d been sleeping up until he called you, and motioned for him to do the same. Once he did, silence was fast to take over.

“Um… I’m not—I wasn’t really prepared to talk about this now,” you messily tried to come up with the right way to approach the issue. “So I don’t know where to begin, if I’m honest…”

He understood what you were feeling perfectly. In all honesty, although he had come all the way over here to get the answer he so badly needed, he, too, didn’t know where to begin.

There was so much to say, so much to ask, so many ways to word his questions, that his mind went blank.

So, he said the first thing he could think of right then.

“Dahye told you, didn’t she?”

You looked distressed at the mention of her, and that was enough for him to get the answer he was dreading. “Sorry?”

“She talked to you?” He rephrased it.

“Mhm…” you nodded, looking down to your lap. “She did”.

“And is that why you’ve been so distant?” Hyunjin asked carefully.

You nodded again, silently. “I’m sorry, I just needed some time to think” your eyes went back up to lock with his. “How’d you know she talked to me?”

“She kinda threatened me with telling you, so…” he rolled his eyes.

“Oh… that’s…”

Crazy. She was crazy.

Hyunjin nodded, not needing to hear any words coming out of your mouth to understand what you wanted to say. “I know. I should learn not to underestimate her”.

“Yeah, I probably should, too…” you smiled weakly. “Good thing I realised something was off and didn’t believe her in the end”.

“Wait, what?” His eyebrows furrowed.

Something was off? You didn’t believe her?

“I didn’t believe her,” you repeated. “I was a bit shaken up at first, and that’s why I took some distance from you. I just needed to think about it with a cold head, but all along I didn’t want to believe it was true, so ultimately I didn’t. It didn’t sound like you at all”.

Was he tripping? Was he really way more drunk than he thought for your words to make no sense to him?

“You didn’t… want to?” Hyunjin’s heart ached, mostly hung up on those words of yours. “Would it be that bad if it was true?”

“Yes,” you replied in a heartbeat. “I’m sorry, but I wouldn’t be able to let myself fall for you if that was the case, Hyunjin”.

I wouldn’t be able to let myself fall for you if Dahye will always be there and I knew you’d go back to her whenever you get tired of me; is what you meant.

It would be bad if it was true that you’re in love with me, because I wouldn’t be able to let myself fall for you and ever love you back; is what he heard.

Just like that, for the fourth time in his life, once again because of you, his heart broke.

Although he’d come here knowing well enough that getting turned down by you was a very high possibility, actually hearing you so tactlessly say those words to him right then, and getting every chance of ever being with you crushed into pieces just like that, had his heart hurting in a way it had never before.

Feeling physically ill and finding it hard to breathe, he stood up, pacing around your room for a few seconds before he looked for support on the wall by leaning his back on it.

This might’ve been his worst heartbreak yet, for unlike the previous times, he’d let himself be led on. This time, he really thought that there was something going on between the two of you. All the reciprocated flirting and touches… had it all been him? Did you really not realise what you’d been doing to him all along?

“Hyunie…” you whispered, feeling your own heart break at the sight of him and going up to him, unable to give into your own sorrow as he seemed to have just confirmed that what Dahye told you was indeed true.

He closed his eyes as he tilted his head up to keep the tears from coming out of them.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

He defeatedly shook his head when you placed your hand on his shoulder, rubbing his hands on his eyes to wipe the oncoming tears before he tried to walk away. “I’m sorry, this wasn’t a good—I can’t, I should leave” he apologised.

“So it’s true then?” You asked, grabbing his wrist for him to stay.

He shook his head no, and for just a moment there you felt relief, before he finally turned around and looked at you with reddened eyes. “Of course it’s true” his bottom lip trembled. “Why wouldn’t it be? Did I really get it all wrong?”

Your eyebrows knitted together, understanding this entire situation less and less by the second. “Get what wrong?”

“This,” he repeatedly pointed his finger from you to him. “Us. Whatever it is that I thought was going on between us”.

“Hyunjin…”

“I knew I was getting my hopes up too fast, but I thought,” he paused for a moment, shaking his head in disbelief over his own delusions. “All this time I thought what kept holding you back was our age gap, but turns out the problem was never my age, but me”.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you’d be willing to go out with that one other guy who’s also my age, so it was clearly never the problem”.

“What guy?”

“You know what guy”.

“Felix?” You pinpointed, not really knowing any other guys his age. Not like you particularly knew Felix either anyway. “I’m not going out with him”.

“You said you wouldn’t mind him being twenty three, though”.

���Because I don’t care about age, not because I want to date him” you tried to defend yourself. “Weren’t you the one who told me to consider dating younger guys?”

“Exactly, I told you that. Me. I said it so you would at some point consider me, not so you would start looking at other guys my age” he clarified.

“Hyunjin, I’m not—Why does age suddenly matter so much to you?”

“Because if you’re willing to date a guy who’s three years younger than you, then why can’t it be me?!”

You froze.

During all the years you had known him, you had never seen him lose his temper. He was always calm, rational. Had he ever even raised his voice in your presence other than when he got excited about something?

This was a side of him you’d never seen before, and it broke you.

Seeing him look so hopeless and sound so defeated right then, made you feel like holding him and never let go of him.

Things were moving too fast, though, and when you wanted to reach for his face and wipe the tear that had just rolled down one of his cheeks, he beat you to it; harshly wiping his face with his hands, as he refused to look away from you.

“All this time I’ve done nothing but pour my heart out to you. I’m so… so fucking in love with you it hurts me, Y/N. There are times when it physically pains me to love you this much,” he confessed.

Right now, it was one of those times.

“I’ve done everything in my hands for you to stop seeing me like the teenage boy you met back then, for you to stop seeing me just like Yeji’s little brother, and I know you’re not ready for a relationship yet, but I was willing to wait for as long as you needed me to until you were, because I was delusional enough to believe that I could actually make you fall for me” a breathless, humorless laugh abandoned his lips. “And now it turns out you just won’t ever feel the way I feel for you, and this guy shows up out of nowhere and gets everything I’ve tried to get from you right away without even moving a finger, and I just… I don’t know where to go from here”.

Your heart squeezed inside your chest.

Of all the things you were expecting as the outcome of your talk, a confession wasn’t one of them. Not this kind of confession, at least.

You were speechless. Not only did you not know what to say, but even if you did, you were sure your voice would betray you by not coming out when you opened your mouth.

Hyunjin loved you.

It wasn’t just a crush like you thought. It wasn’t him looking for something casual like you feared. No, he loved you. He was serious about you.

Why did you feel so happy yet so afraid about his feelings for you being so strong?

He took a step towards you, and you felt your heartbeat raise when his face was only a couple of inches away from yours and his breathing began to mix with yours.

“I don’t wanna give up on you, Y/N, I don’t. But I just don’t kn—What do I have to do for you to consider me?” He asked, pulling you closer by your waist. “What does he have that I don’t?”

“I’m not going out with him, Hyunjin” you repeated in a whisper, hoping this time he would believe you.

Whether he believed you or not, he leaned in closer, faintly brushing his nose with yours. “What do I have to do for you to give me a chance then?”

“Hyun…”

“I’ll do anything,” he said, cupping your face and making you lock eyes with him. “Just tell me what and I’ll do it”.

You slowly shook your head no, unable to get any kind of word out of your mouth. Was it not obvious enough already that you did feel something for him? Had the way you talked to him and how you acted around him not been enough for him to get that you liked him as something more than just a friend? As way more than just your best friend’s brother?

You couldn’t find the right words to tell him that. The only thing you could do was to stare into his eyes, and then down into his lips, feeling the tension between the two of you grow by the second.

Hyunjin caught up on that immediately, leaning closer, so he could brush his mouth on yours for a second, before he closed the gap that kept them from touching.

Only you beat him to it.

Had you waited one more second, he would’ve been the one to press his lips on yours.

But you did not.

Instead, you were the one to press your mouth on his.

You were the one to kiss him first.

You were kissing him.

And he froze.

His right hand was still cupping your face, his left one remained on your waist, and his eyes had naturally closed the moment he felt the heavenly pressure of your lips on his. But he froze nevertheless.

For the first few seconds, he was too stunned, too overwhelmed —in the best way possible— to even react. And, unfortunately, a few seconds was all the kiss lasted; for he missed your touch right when he was about to kiss you back.

“I’m sorry” you apologised right as you pulled away and covered your mouth with your hands, as if only then coming to your senses. “Hyunie, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t—”

That was as much as you got to say, for in a second he had already removed your hands from your mouth and replaced them with his lips.

You’d be damned if you thought you could get away with letting him get a taste of your lips only to deprive him of you all over again.

You kissed him back right away, going against your poorly attempted apology, and driving him crazy when you wrapped your arms over his shoulders. His hands that had been previously cupping your face were now on your waist, pulling you closer to his body as he tried to feel you as close to him as he could.

He kissed you like he needed you, like he’d been deprived of you for decades and was only now allowed to get a taste of you; and yet, he managed to be so gentle that you were left craving more by the second, whilst wanting him to kiss you just like that for a little longer.

After all, you didn’t know he had been dreaming of this moment for nearly seven years now.

Just like you, he, too, started wanting more. Pulling your hips harder against his and getting a small gasp of yours to part your lips, he took the chance to delve his tongue in your mouth — unable to keep the corners of his lips from curving slightly up when he felt your tongue massage his right back.

With your breathings becoming heavier, and without even dreaming of letting go of your lips just yet, Hyunjin made you take a couple of steps back, until your legs reached your bed and you instinctively sat down on it, allowing him to lean over you as he followed your mouth.

“You’re drunk…” you managed to whisper, right after you laid back on the mattress and his mouth sucked on your bottom lip once more.

“I’m fine, I’m fin—I’m perfect” he whispered in between kisses.

He was perfect. Being with you like this, with him hovering over you while your fingers gently dug into his hair and your mouths so deliciously sucked on each other, he could not be anything other than perfect.

Kissing you felt like a dream, and a part of him was afraid that it was one.

“No, Hyunjin…” you mumbled, only a couple of seconds later. “We shouldn’t be doing this…”

“Why not?” He asked, pulling slightly away from you — not enough for your lips to stop brushing.

“I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship right now” you confessed what his sister had told him earlier that night and, therefore, what he already knew. “I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t have kissed you”.

“No, don’t be sorry for kissing me. Anything but that, Y/N. You have no idea how bad I’ve wanted to kiss you all this time” he tenderly ran his thumb up and down on your cheekbone. “I can wait until you’re ready. Starting tomorrow morning I’ll wait all you need me to, but right now just… let me kiss you for a little longer”.

Having him whisper those words when his mouth was faintly touching yours, could only make you feel yourself give in to his plea.

“Hm?” He asked, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb. “One more and I’ll stop”.

Unable to speak, as it seemed to be the norm that night, you closed your eyes; and that was enough for him to take the hint and replace the thumb on your bottom lip with his mouth, sweetly sucking on it before he softly traced it with his tongue, for you to let him in and meet him midway.

The desperation of your second kiss was no longer there, as he now took his time to engrave in his memory every single second of your mouth sucking on his and your tongue massaging his own. He didn’t know when he would ever get to kiss you again, after all, and he wanted to take in as much as he could of it.

He wanted to take his time now; and kiss you slowly, deeply, lovingly.

When you were both left panting for air, he rested his forehead on yours, cupping your nape with his hand and digging his fingers in your hair before he hid his face in the crook of your neck, as a breathy laugh abandoned his mouth.

“You’re driving me crazy” he confessed.

“I should be the one saying that,” you chuckled rather sadly. “I don’t know what you’re doing to me anymore, Hyunjin…”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you’re confusing me so much right now. You say you love me and you make me feel so special, but then you go and…” you sighed, feeling him slowly withdraw his face from your neck as he tried to understand your point. “I wish it was that easy, but I can’t let myself fall for you now that I know what Dahye said is true”.

“I swear you’re making me question how much I actually drank, because that doesn’t make any sense and—You can’t do this to me, Y/N” his piercing eyes fixed on yours, and the way his voice sounded so calm now could only make your body tense up under him. “You can’t just kiss me and then tell me that…” he sighed, attempting to collect his thoughts. “If you don’t feel ready for a relationship I get it, and I’ll wait. I’ll wait for as long as you need me to, baby, that’s never been a problem. But you can’t just tell me that you’ll never love me back and then kiss me only to turn m—”

“When did I ever say I’d never love you back?” You questioned.

“When we were talking earlier?” He tilted his head in confusion. “I asked you if it would be so bad if what Dahye told you was true and you said yes”.

“Yes,” you agreed. “Because I can’t put myself through the hell your messy relationship with her would bring me”.

His eyebrows knitted together. “What messy relationship?”

“You know…” you avoided his eyes, only then being hit with how much the thought of him with someone else actually affected you. “This whole ‘fuck buddies’ thing and you going back to her no matter who you are with”.

“That’s ridiculous” he blurted out, almost offended that such an atrocity had just left your mouth. “Where did you even get that from?”

“That’s what Dahye told me” you said.

“That’s what…” the puzzle pieces finally connected in his head. “Is that why you said you wouldn’t be able to fall for me?”

“Yes?” You tilted your head questioningly. “Isn’t that what we were talking about all along?”

He should be mad at Dahye right then. He should want to scream at her for playing with the two of you like this.

Any other time, he would’ve been fuming. Right then, however, with your troubled expression as you didn’t get what was going on, with your pretty lips all swollen from how hard he’d been kissing you up until a minute ago, and having experienced such a wide range of emotions in a matter of minutes, he could only laugh.

Tilting his head back and letting a throaty laugh escape his mouth, he slumped back next to you on your mattress and covered his face with both hands, as he let his laughter take over him.

Nervousness, madness, embarrassment, relief, happiness; it was all mixed up into one loud, painful laughing fit.

He felt like a maniac, feeling you stare at him in worry and obliviousness, but he couldn’t find it in him to stop laughing.

“What’s so funny?” You wondered when he struggled to catch his breath.

“She lied” he explained, finally feeling like his laughter was coming to an end.

“She lied?”

“She lied” he confirmed, removing his hands from his face and wiping a couple of tears off his eyes before he locked them with you. “I don’t like her at all, Y/N. We hardly ever even talk, why would I—” he took in a deep breath, staring up at the ceiling as he felt like he was going crazy. “Can’t believe I cried for nothing”.

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your mouth, both over his last remark and over how relieved you felt to know it was all a misunderstanding, and that you had been right not to believe her in the first place.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t clear enough” you pouted, gently cupping his face when he turned to you.

He shook his head no, letting you know it was okay as he placed his hand on yours. “I didn’t specify either, so I was at fault, too” he smiled softly. “And we probably wouldn’t have ended up kissing if I hadn’t gotten so heated up anyway, so it was totally worth it”.

“You’re an idiot” you laughed once again, smiling when he leaned in and rested his forehead on yours.

“You still kissed me, though” he pointed out, bringing some heat to your cheeks. “Does that mean I actually have a chance now?”

“Was me kissing you not a good enough answer to that?”

“Kisses can mean nothing to some people, so…”

“I’m not one of those people, Hyunie” you let him know.

“Good,” he smiled, pulling you to his chest. “Because kissing you meant everything to me”.

You wrapped an arm around him, nuzzling the fabric of the black sweatshirt he was wearing and taking in his scent you loved so much.

“Shouldn’t we properly talk about what Dahye told us?” You mumbled.

“That, and about where we’re standing now, too” he agreed, sweetly tracing his fingertips up and down your back. “My head hurts now, though. I feel like I’m spiraling, I went through too many emotions in too little time”.

You giggled, looking up at him. “You want to continue this conversation tomorrow? When we’re both a little less overwhelmed?”

“Yeah…” he nodded. “I can sleep peacefully now that I know you feel something for me, too”.

You chuckled, making his bottom lip stick out in confusion when you pulled away from him and sat up on your bed. “It’s late, you can sleep here tonight. I’ll take the couch”.

He grabbed your wrist before you could get up. “Stay with me?”

“Hyun…” you hesitated.

“I won’t try anything, I promise” he was fast to say, well aware of where your hesitation was coming from. “Just need to feel you close tonight”.

If he was honest, any other time, he would’ve offered to take the couch and that would’ve been the end of it, but tonight he really needed your closeness. He needed to know you were there, to feel you next to him. And, thankfully for him, you needed just the same.

Silently motioning for him to get under the covers, you let him know you agreed to his request. He smiled widely, pressing a lingering kiss to your cheek before he did as told — making you laugh wholeheartedly when you got under the sheets as well and he wasted no time to pull you to his chest again and to tuck you in with him.

This entire day had been a mess. Hell, the whole fucking week had been unbearable. But you had been able to talk it out at last. Although messily, you now seemed to be on the same page about everything; from your feelings, to what you were looking for, to where the whole misunderstanding had originated.

This may not have been the conversation the two of you were expecting to have, but it was coming soon enough. Tonight, you could just go to sleep in each other’s arms, knowing what each other’s lips felt and tasted like, and with the certainty that your feelings were reciprocated.

Neither of you would have it any other way.

tag list: @jehhskz @iknowyouknowminho @doohnut @saintcosette @lailac13 @kayleefriedchicken @rikibun @yongbokkiesworld @seungzsmin @beautifulcolorgarden @hyunetopia @velvetmoonlght @automaticpersonabatpaper @httpdwaekki @brinnalaine @wondering-out-loud @feelikecinderella @nujeskz @amarecerasus @liknws @nhyunn @midsoulz @tirena1 @tinyelfperson @thatonexcgirl @iovecb97 @hynier @phenomenalgirl9 @your-favorite-pirate @jin-from-the-block @yearofthetiger25 @quokkacidal @stayconnecteed @kwanisms @yoonguurt @143hyunes @iiriam @cookielixie @hyunlvrs @allyrarara @machaandlofi @mehli-00 @justiceforvillains @minhosprettywife @whats-my-question @armystay89 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @hyeon-yi @skzstannie @onlyhyunjin

[ellecdc]

always there

prompt from @unstablereader: What about alpha!Barty and omega!Treasure where he's been helping her with heats as friends do, but then another alpha actually takes interest in her and they both kind of flip out. Reader has a bit of a meltdown because "that's not HER alpha" and Barty gets pissed because "that's MY omega"

alpha!Barty Crouch Jr x omega!reader who already has an alpha [1.9k words]

CW: fem!reader, omegaverse, marking/claiming, speaking of heat cycles, scenting, brief angst, all fluff

Anyone from the outside looking in probably would have thought Barty was looking at you rather predatorily. And to some extent he might have been, but it was only because he was worried about you. 

Dorcas’ birthday had fallen on a Friday and she was very much looking forward to throwing a party the day-of instead of “the day after when the novelty of growing older and wiser has worn off.” 

The beginning of your heat cycle started on Saturday.

Barty had been keeping religious track of your cycle for years; he had been ever since you first presented back at school. Too young to be marked or claimed by an alpha of your own, Barty has been able to help you through your heats; whatever you needed. Whether it was scenting, feeling secure in the presence of an alpha who promised to shield you from any unwanted attention, or a knot, Barty was there.

He’d always be there.

Which is why he had shown up to your flat the morning of the party and asked if you didn’t think you ought to stay home tonight. 

“She’s really looking forward to it, though.” You’d said of Dorcas who, was indeed looking forward to celebrating her birthday day-of with all of her friends, and would have been more than understanding of your absence. 

The day before your heat wasn't always too bad. Sometimes you experienced a fever, but not always. Sometimes you were anxious or fidgety, but not always. But your scent was certainly stronger (especially to alphas with a certain proclivity to it), and Barty worried about you.

Generally, you could manage to keep your normal routine the day before your heat.

Normal routine being school, work, and the ability to bathe, feed and clean up after yourself. 

Barty did not think that extended to entertaining a large group of people - many of which would likely be Gryffindors seeing as Dorcas had gone and shacked up with one - for an entire evening.

He told you as much.

You pulled your lips between your teeth as you considered Barty’s words, fiddling with the hem of the jumper of his you were currently wearing; yet another sign of your incoming heat. 

Suddenly, you looked up at him. “You’ll be there, though. Right?” 

Barty smiled immediately. “I’ll be there, treasure. By your side, of course.”

Something about the way he spoke to you had you folding yourself into his chest, a very welcome change indeed, and inhaling deeply. He held you tighter in response.

”And can I borrow your Guns ‘n Rose’s t-shirt?” 

You barely had the question out before Barty was agreeing. “Yes, you can borrow my Guns ‘n Rose’s t-shirt. That’s what this was really about, hm? I’m just an extra closet for you.” He teased.

You giggled into his chest before pulling back to look up at him. You weren’t flushed yet, your eyes were bright and alert, and he would be there.

He would always be there.

”Okay fine you can go to the party.” He ‘relented’ theatrically, earning him a cackling laugh in response.

”How very magnanimous of you.” 

He flashed you a boastful smirk. “That’s me; Barty the Great.” 

“Wear the shirt today please?” You called after him as he turned to leave instead of gracing him with a response. That was fine, he already knew you thought he was great. 

So, yeah. He wore his beloved Guns ‘n Roses t-shirt all day, making sure to even work up a light sweat so that his scent blanketed you tighter, and he met you before the party so that the two of you could go together.

“So, you’re telling me there’s nothing I can do to convince you to stay in tonight?” He asked as he lounged lazily on your bed whilst you got ready for the party. 

“Why do you keep trying to squirrel me away?” You laughed as you hiked up a pair of trousers over your hips. 

Barty scoffed and held out a Rubik’s cube that he’d solved, scrambled, solved, and scrambled again whilst you changed as if you’d said something barmy. “‘Cause I want you all to myself, obviously?”

”Obviously.” You drawled back at him, pulling his your shirt over your head. 

“You know, Tres, I think the question should be less why I keep trying to squirrel you away and why you’re so hellbent on going.” He retorted, moving to sit up properly and toss the Rubik’s cube over his shoulder unceremoniously. 

“Because if I stay home, you’ll stay with me. Yeah?” You asked plainly, moving to stand in front of Barty with your hands on your hips and a displeased pout on your lips that Barty itched to boop with his finger but refrained. 

“‘Course.”

Your lips pursed. “‘Course. And then two of us will be missing from Dorcas’ party.” 

“Oh my gods this keeps coming back to Dorcas’ party.” He let out with a groan before falling back spread eagle on your bed. 

“Get up. We’re leaving.” You called over your shoulder as you strutted out of your room.

So you left.

And you went to Dorcas’ party.

So, yeah. Barty was leaning against the wall of (Marlene &) Dorcas’ flat pretending to listen to whatever Regulus’ dumb boyfriend was so excited about as he watched you rather predatorily. 

“Barty, you’re being terribly rude.” Regulus hissed, finally managing to encourage Barty’s eyes from you.

”Yeah? You’ll have to bring it up with management.” He drawled in a bored manner, smirking at the flash of indignance in Regulus’ eyes. 

And then he heard the pitch of your voice raise higher and his sights were back on you.

Back on you, and Caradoc Dearborn (if Barty wasn’t mistaken - he never did bother learning all of the Gryffindor’s names) as you shifted your weight between your feet. 

“You must be close though, yeah? You smell amazing.” He could hear the bloke say as he flashed you a charming smile.

Barty wanted to punch the teeth right out of his mouth. 

“Oh, look at that.” James commented casually. “Think this might be the year Y/N finds an alpha of her own?”

She has an alpha of her own, Barty nearly growled before the blood drained from his face. 

Except you didn’t have an alpha of your own - not in any way that would matter to Caradoc or any other alpha who might recognise the slightly sweeter smell coming from you tonight. 

Maybe not even in any way that would matter to you. 

But shit, Barty was yours.

He was your friend, your Barty, your alpha; whatever you needed him to be he’d be it. 

And then your eyes met his.

And your lips parted. 

And Barty would always be there.

So he quirked his eyebrow at you - do you need me?

Your lips closed and pressed into a straight line - help. 

He’s pretty sure he stepped on James’ shoe and spilled some of Regulus’ drink on him as he brushed past the pair, but Barty’s mind was singular and zeroed in. 

“Need a refill, Tres?” He asked lowly, keeping his gaze on Caradoc as he sidled up behind you. 

“I was just about to offer her one myself.” Caradoc offered with another toothy grin, though the smile didn’t seem to meet his eyes as he met Barty’s gaze. 

“She’s fine.”

“Do you speak for her, mate?” Caradoc asked as he leaned against the door frame with an ease he clearly didn’t feel if the tendons in his arms told Barty anything. 

“What exactly is it you came to ask her, mate?” Barty asked then, watching Caradoc’s eyes shift between his and yours before he straightened. 

“I figured a pretty little omega like herself might need an alpha.” He responded simply. 

“I already have one…” You mumbled, and whilst Caradoc spoke over you, causing him to miss this key detail, Barty sure didn’t. 

“I was simply here to offer my services.” He carried on chippily. 

“She isn’t a commodity.” Barty spat before looking down as you instinctively leaned into him. “Do you want his help, treasure?” 

You quickly shook your head and one of your hands wound itself into the fabric of his shirt. He covered your hand with his. 

“No.” You managed to squeak. 

Caradoc tilted his head curiously at you. “No? Not even this close to a heat?” 

“I’m surprised you even managed to pick that up with how much she smells like me, Dearborn.” Barty spat then. 

“I don’t see a mark on her, Junior, so I sort of figured it was fair play.”

“I have an Alpha…” You tried again, squaring your shoulders. “I’ve always had an alpha.” 

Caradoc all but sneered at you. “No mark means no bond.”

A sardonic smile took over Barty’s face as he pushed the hair away from your shoulder, slowly bending at the waist to bring his mouth to your neck all whilst maintaining eye contact with Caradoc. 

His lips ghosted the expanse of skin where your scent was the strongest, and Barty found himself nearly drunk off it. Heart a riot within his chest; Barty wondered if the fluttering of your pulse beneath his lips would match the cadence of his own. 

“What do you say, Tres?” He murmured, breath fanning across your skin as he watched Caradoc’s eyes narrow and jaw twitch. He could believe he was really doing this. 

“Please.” Was your immediate response. 

His serious facade almost fell completely when you surprised a breathy chuckle out of him. 

“A simple yes or no would have sufficed, sweetheart.” He said before he pressed a delicate kiss to the space, causing you to nod your head in an undeniable yes. “But… since you asked so nicely.” 

And he latched onto your scent point and bit down; hard. 

Caradoc - apparently no longer interested in getting you that drink - was long gone by the time Barty opened his eyes again and pulled off of you, licking the wound once before leaning back to admire his work; memorialized in your skin, two crescent moons. Him.

You turned to look at him with tears in your eyes.

His stomach fell out of his arse.

“Treasure? Hey, Y/N. What- are you okay?” He rapid fired, and then you were in his arms, kissing him everywhere you could reach. 

“Thank you. Oh my god. Thank you.” You cried, grabbing his face between your hands and pulling him in for a deep, lingering kiss. 

Barty mumbled a question into your mouth until you finally relented your (much appreciated) assault on his lips. “What are you thanking me for?” 

You turned bashful. Barty loved it. 

Barty loved you.

“Claiming me.” You admitted shyly. “I-... I realised I…I don’t want anyone else. I don’t want any alpha.”

You looked at him as though you’d just been given the gift of sight; finally seeing him clearly for the very first time. 

“I just want you.” 

“I’m yours, treasure.” Barty vowed, lowering his forehead to yours. “I’m all yours.”

[nerissamaes]

TW: drug use/overdose

The first girl I loved in a way I now know is irrevocably queer died of a heroin overdose. When we still knew each, we stole moments in the hallway, and over text, always dancing on the line of a relationship that felt like a death wish. Both of our parents were homophobic, abusive , and the few queer friendly teachers at our high school were so overloaded with students who needed support, and with less than vague threats from admin, that even if there was support for us theoretically, there really wasn’t in practice. I don’t think either of us really knew how we felt, not really, but we would share music, quiz each other on science facts, and talk about our favorite things. She would always tell me she was never smart enough to be my friend, but bio was her favorite subject, and she never misremembered any of the facts I read her out of my AP bio textbook. She loved rap music, and reading, she hated her job, and she had the most pretty smile, this little self satisfied smirk, every time we caught each other’s eyes across the lunch room, even though she’d dissolve into the biggest puddle of blush if she was even remotely close to me. She had two pet rats, she’d show them to me on calls a lot, and she loved them so, so much. Her friends weren’t supportive, they actively encouraged her relapses so matter how hard we worked on her staying clean, nothing ever stuck. They didn’t know about me. Her parents didn’t either.

She called me one night. Scared out of her mind. She knew as much as I loved her I didn’t like being around drugs, she tried so hard to keep them from me, but she had accidentally used too much. She was overdosing, at least on the verge, and she didn’t know who else to call. Her friends would write her off. I tried my hardest to talk her down, she tried her hardest to convince me it wouldn’t hurt to do just a little more. Nothing was working, I knew she could get like this but I’d never seen her this frantically wanting to use. I’ll never know why she was so upset that night. I didn’t know where she lived but I knew I had to do something so, oh so sickened by myself, I threaten to call an ambulance if she didn’t stop. She was so far gone she never noticed I didn’t know where she lived. She begged me not to because of what her family would do if they found out. Not just about the heroin, of course, but about me, too. I threatened until she stopped. I sat with her as she sobbed and begged for forgiveness while she came down. Of course I forgave her.

After we hung up, she never spoke with me again, too embarrassed and upset with herself for putting me in that situation, is my best guess, though I’ll never really know. About five years later, I found out from a mutual friend that she died suddenly, most likely an overdose. I had heard through him that she was in and out of rehab, that it didn’t seem to be working well but it seemed to be helping somewhat. Obviously not enough.

I tell this story here partially to have a space to remember her, but also because of the material conditions of our situation, and to describe what one of these moments felt like, especially to a child. She would most likely still be alive today if there was any infrastructure in my hometown to help gay kids in bad households. If queer kids weren’t the most hot button topic of small town Americana even when I was a kid, I could’ve said something to someone who could not only empathize, but have resources to help as well.

There exists a future where we could’ve loved each other in the open, and we both could’ve had genuine support for our respective addictions. But instead, my mom attends school board meetings with the intent of getting trans kids kicked out of schools, convinced there’s litter boxes in the bathrooms and GAC surgeons on hand in the nurse’s office, ready to operate at the littlest insecurity. Instead, a beautiful, wonderful woman is six feet under, needle in arm, having never gotten to say or hear I love you to another woman the way she wanted. Because dead queer kids are more palatable. Because when we’re addicts, with our dead queer friends hovering over our shoulders, it’s so much harder for us to find each other, to connect, to survive, let alone thrive.

I grew up in a world where the only good queer person is a dead one. I see glimpses of that world occasionally, whenever I end up back with my parents. But I also see her, in the bright eyes of every newly out queer kid I meet while TAing. I see her in the faces of the queer women in my life I’ve come to love with my whole heart. And so I suppose, from one effective queer elder who will always hold a bit of a queer kid who never got to be a queer adult with them like a kiss on my cheek, to every queer kid who might stumble upon this feeling the same way we felt in the moments of that overdose I just want to say:

I see you, I’m proud of you, and I know she would be too. Collect your stolen moments, your highest highs, your deepest loves, and hold them close, because the world that wants us dead can never truly take that from you, even if it takes some of us too soon. Those moments mean everything to us, not just us who actually experience them, but us as a whole community. Queerness is real, radiant, and beautiful and you deserve to have and hold that for yourself and with other queer people, no matter who we’ve lost along the way, so hopefully we don’t have to lose anyone else too soon eventually.

[mymindisneverhere]

Playing Games

summary: Kelvin’s flight back home keeps getting delayed due to the weather leaving you a bit sad but he finds a way to make it up to you.  

warnings: none. pure fluff 🩵

(a/n: I want to start writing more fluff and who’s better than Kelvin to be my leading character. Enjoy!)

“Nah babe, my flight got delayed again so I won’t be in until later tonight or early tomorrow morning.” Kelvin said. You could hear the disappointment in his voice as he spoke to you. 

“Damn it.” You groaned into the phone. “Why do they keep pushing the flights back?” 

“It’s the weather baby but it’s all good. Are you still at your moms house?” He asked. 

“Yeah.” 

“Just stay there and once I board the plane I’ll text you and let you know.” He could sense the sadness in your voice, slightly feeling the same way as he spoke to you. “If you don’t hear from me, my phone probably died but I’ll charge it as soon as I land.” 

You let out a deep breath before responding. “Okay, I love you!” 

“I love you too baby!” 

You hung up the phone and stared at the screen, totally lost in your thoughts. Kelvin had been on a press tour for the past six months and while you enjoyed being the girlfriend of an actor who was always booked and busy, you just wanted to finally be up under him after not seeing him for so long. 

“Was that Kelvin?” Your mom asked as she stood over the stove stirring the pot of stew she had made for the two of you. The weather hadn’t been too bad where you guys lived but it was freezing out and a nice bowl of stew always soothed you guys. 

“Yeah, his flight keeps getting pushed back.” You pouted slightly, placing your phone onto the counter while you watched your mom prepare the food. 

“He’ll be home in a little while, there’s no need to be upset sweetheart.” 

“I know but I guess I’m just worried about if I’m gonna have to wait until tomorrow to see him.” 

“You know that weather up north is always bad around this time of the year, but I’m sure you won’t have to wait until tomorrow.” She moved around the kitchen, grabbing two bowls from the cabinets and placing them side by side on the counter. “Grab the crackers from the pantry while I make our plates.” 

“Okay.” You went into the pantry and grabbed two sleeves of saltine crackers before returning to the kitchen. You frowned as your mom hurried to lock her phone and flip it face down. “Ma, who were texting?” 

“Oh that was your father, he’s out trying to get the garage to finally open.” She said, returning to a calm state as if she wasn’t in a panic just a few seconds ago. 

You eyed her skeptically before placing the crackers onto the counter in front of you. The two of you grabbed the large trays that held your bowls of soup and crackers and carefully walked to the living room where you both sat and watched the latest episode of RHOP. 

The two of you ate and gossiped about each housewife, giving your dramatic commentary for each scene, laughing and preparing for the next. As you watched the show, you couldn’t help but peep at your phone waiting for another call from Kelvin. 

Another hour had already gone by and you still hadn’t heard anything from him. You tried to enjoy your time with your parents but your worry for your boyfriend was growing by the hour and making it almost impossible for you to relax. 

“Finally got that stubborn garage to go up.” Your dad announced as he walked into the living room. 

“Well if you’re ready to go home, we can drop you off.” Your mother said, looking over at you. 

You simply nodded and stood from the couch. You stacked your tray on top of your mothers, along with the empty bowls and walked them into the kitchen. After a few minutes of washing and drying the dishes, you sat them aside on the empty dish rack and went into the back room to retrieve your things. 

“Is Kelvin done yet?” Your dad whispered to your mom. 

“He just texted me and gave me a thumbs up.” Your mom whispered back, nodding to him. 

You walked back into the living room, wrapping your scarf around your neck as you looked up at your parents. They were sitting in an awkward silence, looking around the room. 

“Why are y’all being so weird right now?” You asked, frowning at the two of them. 

“Honey we’re not, we were just having a quick chat that’s all.” Your mom said, placing her earmuffs on and grabbing her purse. 

You eyed her up and down then shifted your gaze to your dad who stood there with a nonchalant expression. 

“Let’s go.” He said, holding his hand out signaling for you and your mother to walk ahead of him.

You all walked to the garage, you first, then your mom and your dad right behind you two. All bundled up in your winter coats, scarves and mittens, you and your mom got into the car first. Thankful for your dad starting the car ahead of time, you guys quickly settled into the warmth of the vehicle. The heated seats and warm breeze escaping the vents brought you a small feeling of comfort as you prepared to head back to your place to spend yet another night alone. 

Your dad finally got into the driver's seat and slowly pulled out of the garage and onto the streets. You didn’t notice him staring at you through the rear view mirror as you looked out the window, watching the cars pass by. You had hoped and prayed that Kelvin would finally be back home, safe and sound but finally decided to accept that he would just be there when he could. 

After a long 30 minute drive to your small neighborhood, you all pulled into the driveway of the townhome Kelvin had purchased for the two of you just a year and half prior. Grabbing your purse, you searched for your keys and pulled them from the very bottom of the bag. 

“Thank you guys, love you!” You said as you exited the car. 

“You’re welcome sweetheart!” Your dad stated. 

“Call us once you get settled in.” Your mom said, smiling from ear to ear. 

“Okay.” You shut the car door and walked to unlock your front door. After a few seconds, you finally got the door open and paused when you saw the walkway dimly lit with small tea light candles along the baseboards. You debated on turning around to have your dad come in to help check the house for safety but then a thought came to your mind.

‘Why would an intruder place romantic candles in my house?’

“I know he didn’t!” You whispered to yourself, finally realizing who was in your home all along. Taking slow steps, you walked down the hall until you reached the kitchen. There Kelvin stood in front of the dining table with a smile on his face. 

“You are such a liar!” You yelled, dropping your bag and running over to him. He wrapped his arms around you, stumbling back a bit as you jumped into his arms. 

“I wanted to surprise you.” Kelvin laughed hearing the genuine shock in your voice. 

The truth was Kelvin had landed three hours ago but convinced your parents to keep you busy while he planned a surprise for you. He knew how much you loved to be the first one he saw once he got off of the plane. You’d always meet him at the airport with a big smile and a warm hug. However, this time around, he wanted to throw you off completely. He was always trying his hardest to surprise you but it wasn’t easy getting things by you solely because you knew your man too well. 

You knew he was a jokester, always sneaking up on you, always play fighting with you and smothering you with kisses when you were upset with him. He knew that you were always a few steps ahead of him so he had to pull out all the stops to be sure you didn’t catch on to this surprise. Asking your parents to get in on it was the icing on the cake, as they were very open to playing into the surprise knowing you’d love it when it was all said and done. 

“My mom knew, didn't she?” You asked, finally back on your feet as you stared at him. 

“You dad did too.” 

“Oooh, I’ma call them and they’re not gonna hear the last of it. I swear!” You rolled your eyes. 

Kelvin laughed at you, watching as you paced back and forth trying to figure out how you weren’t able to put two and two together. Then it suddenly clicked for you; your mom constantly flipping her phone face down whenever you entered the room, smiling wide at you while you were entering your home, them acting weird when you were grabbing your scarf, it was all coming back to you as you paced the room. 

“I cannot believe I didn’t catch on.” You said, dropping your hands to your sides and staring at him in disbelief. 

“I got you babe, it’s okay to admit it.” He smiled, walking over to you to place a kiss on your lips. 

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes and turned away from him as he placed more kisses along your cheek and jaw. You gasped out loud when your eyes landed on the couch full of bags. Dior, Chanel, Steve Madden, Victoria Secret and many more bags sat on the couch and the rest sat on the floor in front. There were so many gifts in front of you, you didn’t know which bag to dig into first. 

“Oh my God!” You covered your mouth and turned to look at him, a sly smirk on his face. You ran over to the couch and kneeled down to the floor, scanning over every bag, so excited to unpack everything. It felt like Christmas for you all over again. “Babe, you did not have to do all of this!” 

“I told you to stop saying that.” He said, walking over to the couch and standing next to you. “I like seeing you happy and if I wanna buy my girl a bunch of gifts, I should be able to do that.” 

His tone became a bit serious as he stared down at you. Kelvin’s love language had always been gifts. No matter where he went in the world, he’d always grab something for you just to show you that you were always on his mind. However, you were always constantly feeling the need to decline those gifts because you didn’t want him to think that was the only reason you were with him. This never sat right with him and he never failed to remind you of it. He knew how much you cared for him, he never thought for a second that you were only with him for what he could do for you. But your constant need to remind him of that made him feel as though you didn’t think he trusted you. 

“I know, I know.” You spoke softly, looking down at the gifts. He had just landed and was back at home with you, the last you wanted to do was ruin the mood so soon. “Thank you babe, I really appreciate it, honestly.” 

“Open them, I wanna make sure everything fits.” He took a seat on the coffee table as he watched you plow through every bag. 

There were shoes, clothes, purses, lingerie, perfume, and jewelry. Anything you could think of buying for yourself had already been purchased by your man. You two sat in the living room as you tried on everything, testing it all out to be sure you truly liked what he bought. 

“You like it?” Kelvin asked, staring up at you as you pranced around in your new fur coat accompanied by a new pair of sunglasses. 

“I love it!” You shrieked, turning to him and rushing him with another hug. 

“Babe, you’re gonna break the table.” He said, reaching out to his side to prevent himself from falling over. 

“I don’t care, I love all of it!” You placed a kiss on his lips which of course fell into a passionate one.

“Okay I’m a bit tired from the flight.” Kelvin said in between kisses. “I barely showered.” 

“I don’t care, I missed you.” You said, still kissing him. 

“At least buy me dinner first.” He joked, knowing it would cause you to burst into laughter. 

“You are so stupid!” You laughed, finally getting up and letting him breathe. You playfully hit him on his shoulder as you stood to your feet. “I did miss you a lot though.”

“I missed you too.” Kelvin stood from the table and faced you. “But you’re stuck with me until I have to leave again. So that means I get to be your headache for the next couple of months.”

“Whatever.” You said playfully, rolling your eyes. 

“Come on, I’ll take your bags up to the room.” He said, grabbing as many as he could before heading up the stairs. You followed close behind him, carrying the rest of the bags up to your bedroom. 

“So you’re really tired?” You asked, placing the last bag in the closet. 

“Yeah that flight was rough, I couldn’t sleep at all.” He said, placing his hands on his hips. 

You eyed him up and down, folding your arms as you stared at one another. You hadn’t seen him in six months and now he was making you wait even longer to finally make love to him after a long wait. 

“I know you can’t resist me babe, but just give me some time to rest.” He joked, placing his hands on your hips and kissing you. 

“Fine, you can rest.” You said, unfolding your arms and turning to head back into the closet. “You’re gonna need it.” 

Kelvin’s smile dropped a bit as you watched you walk back into the closet so carelessly. 

“Wait, what do you mean I’m gonna need it?” 

You smirked to yourself, refusing to face him as he yelled from the bedroom. You organized your new shoes to fall into place along with your collection and placed the new clothes in their color coordinated areas while he continued questioning you. 

“Babe stop playing.” He laughed a bit, hoping you’d respond but you didn’t. When you failed to respond he immediately went back into a bit of a panic. “What you mean by that though?” 

His voice had returned to a serious tone and you couldn’t help but to laugh. Finally walking out of your closet you brushed past him saying, “Nothing babe, let’s just shower and get ready for bed.” 

His eyes followed you into the bathroom but his feet stayed in place. You made him a bit nervous but you didn’t care. He had his way of playing with your emotions and you had your way of playing with his. Getting your lick back was always your favorite part of your relationship with him and he knew it. 

“Babe, stop playing.”  

Please excuse any mistakes. 🩵

[girldriveroscar]

Re: size of landoscar. Love your write up haha. Truly any narrative can be validated bc every pic looks different ‼️I do have two pics that are crucial landoscar comparisons imo:

https://www.tumblr.com/answerringg/770682515577077760/their-size-difference-oh-lando-is-getting

This pic is a screen grab from a vid but just in general he looks huge this whole video 😭 like you mentioned I think his bad posture eventuates that + optical illusion but wow. What a satisfying visual re: him vs Lando. Like FINE I’ll buy into the whole ‘Lando’s so small🥺’ that both Lando and Oscar like to perpetuate🤷‍♀️

there’s also a vid of Oscar+ a fan and the comments/fan all mention how surprisingly tall Oscar is. Like Lando said in that first Mclaren vid… Oscar doesn’t seem tall.. but he is. (tall being like 5’10/11 lol)

https://www.tumblr.com/mara-xx/770330916757372928/needed-a-last-minute-birthday-cake-so-i-called-up

^ And this one is just self explanatory 💗

Anyway sorry for the length but my last random thoughts — even as someone who’s never paid attention to lando til like 5 seconds ago, I can tell he’s gone through a massive glow up. And to make this rpf bc why not, how lucky for oscar —the guy who’s been a fan of forever— to experience Lando in his prime (thus far). Oscar said #invest #manifest 

THIS and THIS for ease…

THESE SUITS WERE SO. fuck that ugly ass diagonal suit broOAUGH. this era..peak landoscar size diff cus like oscar Jus grew n lando had Not.

but ok like they r Literally always changing sizes. frm the front to the back to the outfit to the angle

i could find a Billion examples atp !!

why doesnt the big twink eat the little twink seeing this Reformed my brain n the way i see them bc. from the front they r so

0 and o

like oscars small horizontally (again FROM THE FRONT!) while landos smaller vertically. but theyre both Small Basically. (#f1drivers)

but at the same time. theres a lot of muscle mass packed into their frames. and as they shift arnd / have better or worse posture / flex and unflex. theyre either Twigs or Big.

its shrödingers landoscar… theyre big and small… i think the only real conclusion for this wld amount frm seeing them in the flesh. which i dont intend to do or ever report on. LOL. probably.

i fully believe oscars taller than he looks tho. ESP after this year. end of 2023 vs start of 2024 and end of 2024 for reference. i think its a slight growth spurt maybe i am… being kind to oscar though…

anyways thank u for the oscass pic. that photo genuinely makes me Claw and rattle the bars of my enclosure like he is so Perfectly bouncy in that. n lando is my pancake in a way…

and bc youre landoscaring im landoscaring. Under the cut tho.

the fact oscars not even.. big… n they stil BOTH push this narrative of lando is sooo itty bitty…

the way sue Cs it oscar is so giddy about being in on the “lando is the small and fiercely dominant” joke after following said smallest boys career When He was Actually the Smallest… like he is living out his 15 yr old dream please excuse his excitement he Literally is just in on the joke now. of course hes milking it. ijsk he wanted to b george russell soooo bad. hes Crazy. let him have this bit.

lando i think leans into his smallness as a shield bc its all hes ever known and been told. but thats a whole deeper convo. still cannot bring myself to edit that lando analysis Very apologetic the thoughts might hv to die in my drafts <\3

the #invest made me LOLLLL. hes so true. following a guy frm his feeder series bc u Saw the potential in him. Watching him get to F1. Moving frm adolescence leaving everything familiar to u behind to kart with the same team. Stumbling behind in his footsteps. Getting to F1 right by his side. And then u won a championship w him. brought glory back to ur team through the power of Literally Just getting along.. and u have these weird charged events of tension that Somehow get ironed out Somehow.. And ur so completely the opposite of everything he knows and yet the longest teammate he has Ever Had..oOh My Goooood

we rlly dont… give enough time and energy to JUST HOW crazy of a coincidence that is. js think ab how exciting it is for Us when the F2/F3 driver ur following makes it into F1 !! like if Luke Browning or Fred Vesti ever got a seat im Doing Actual Backflips. IT RLY IS LIKE. #invest #manifest now add on everything else??? LIKE WHAT!!!!! god they make me crazy. and somehow lando got super stupid hot and hes a race winner and can actually groan out loud when he fucks instead of whimpering pathetically. that’s crazy man. 🚬🚬🚬🚬

[yinyuedijun]

since it is on the brain tonight. have one of my favourite (very very long) scenes of desire path backstory (happened in both versions of the fic, og and current)

(tw implied child abuse and incest)

background: you've just been adopted into the itoshi household and have had a really hard time opening up. sae hears you crying in your bedroom every night. here, he finally decides to try and help you. you're about 6 here, sae is 8.

___

Still, you had your bad nights. Progress has never been linear with you, not now and not back then. Sae recalls one midnight where you had a crying fit that disintegrated into a violent string of coughs, each one so powerful that it made him wince.

He wondered how the whole house wasn't awake, listening to your pain. Rin always slept like a rock—Sae could see him snoring away in the other bed, so it made sense that he wasn't bothered—but surely their parents were hearing this? But then he decided not to linger on it for too long.

It didn't matter since he was going to help you anyway.

He ended up knocking on your door with a glass of water. Almost immediately, all the shifting in your room stopped, almost like you were trying to silence yourself. But Sae could hear the coughs being torn violently from your throat, even though they now sounded strained and muffled.

"Hey," he called out softly. "It's me. Are you awake?"

Silence. Sae knew to give it a moment before he tried again.

"Can I come in?"

If it had been anyone other than you, you told Sae years later, your fingers running lazily through his hair, lifting the bangs out of his face, I wouldn't have said anything. I'd have pretended to be sleeping. But I let you in because it was you. You squeezed his hand, then, and your eyes were close—so close, heavy on his own and weighed down by the vulpine flick of your eyeliner, by the mascara sooty and thick on neatly curled lashes, by your childhood shadows. Your strawberry gloss shone next to his lips, and your heated and tender words kissed them: Do you understand what I'm saying, Nii-chan? If it had been anyone else, I wouldn't have been—

"...okay."

When Sae crept into your room, found an empty bed. You were hiding underneath it, curled up in the tiny space between the floor and the mattress, hugging the quilt he'd handed to you weeks ago. He crouched down, showed you the glass of water. Sae wasn't sure if the offering would be enough to draw you out from under the bed, but another coughing fit—this one strong enough to make you teary-eyed—had you crawling out. You mumbled a little thank you as you took the glass from him and drank.

"You haven't cried like that in a while," Sae commented, and you gave him a stricken look. After a long moment of unadultered panic in your eyes, he heard you string more than two words for the first time:

"...s-sorry. I'm really sorry." You were looking down at the floor, and it was like all the progress Sae had made over the past several weeks had gone up in smoke—you looked petrified, small, a cornered animal with nowhere to run. "I didn't know you could hear me."

"Don't apologize. I don't mind it."

"...you're not mad?"

Sae thought it was a funny question. "No. Who'd get mad at something like that?"

You didn't reply, just looking away, and Sae felt a little frustrated, then. He'd been working so hard to make you feel comfortable and thought he'd finally made some progress—but now he was seeing you regress in real time. Back into the fragile little thing that his parents had decided to adopt out of the blue, looking like you couldn't trust anything around you. Like you couldn't trust him. Sae couldn't help but think—

"You don't like it here, do you."

Even at that age, you had a distinctly doe-eyed look when you were confused, and he remembers staring at it.

"No," you said. "I do."

"Then how come you don't wanna talk to any of us?"

Maybe his voice was a little too harsh. Or a little too blunt. You flinched, your body retreating into the turquoise shell of your quilt.

"Sorry."

"That's—" Sae paused, chewing his lip. Tried to make his voice as gentle as possible, because he knew his usual tone would scare you. "...you don't need to be sorry. I'm not mad. I just wanna know what's been making you so upset. Like—how come you always cry at night?"

You got that nervous, uncertain look in your eye again, and Sae got the distinct feeling that you were wondering if this whole conversation was some kind of trick. He added, "I just wanna know how to cheer you up. I don't like seeing you so sad all the time."

You blinked, gave him a surprised look, but it was fleeting, quickly making way for another gloomy expression. "You don't need to worry about me… I don't think I'm going to stay here for very long."

Sae's brow furrowed. His mom had made it sound like you were going to be his little sister just like how Rin was his brother—that is, permanently. "Why not?"

The face you made was so miserable that it startled Sae. He hadn't had a lot of experience with sadness as a kid—most of what he'd witnessed revolved around soccer, when the opposing team lost, and Sae never felt very sorry for them. Sometimes Rin would throw tantrums or cry over silly things, but those were easy to handle. Sae supposed that the worst sadness he'd ever seen was in his mother, who tried her best to hide it—

—but not even her saddest expressions could compare to how shattered you looked in that moment.

"...your dad doesn't actually want me here, Sae-san."

Sae's brow creased. You have a new sister, he recalled. You need to take care of her, OK? It's your job as the eldest.

"That can't be right," Sae replied. "Dad said he wanted you to be part of this family. He even said I should look after you."

Instead of responding, you looked long and hard at Sae, and for the first time, he experienced the strange feeling of being dissected by you. He felt translucent and naked under your eyes—keen for such an innocent age, seeing everything in the dark.

"We have the same father, but different moms. You know that, right?" you asked quietly.

He hadn't.

"Your dad didn't like my mom very much, and that's why he didn't want me. He's only being forced to take me now 'cause my mom decided she didn't want me either." Your eyes started to shimmer, and you hid them in your blanket. "My stepdad and my brother also left 'cause they didn't want me. And I don't think your mom likes me very much, either. So"—you breathed in deep and whispered, and Sae felt like he was watching a vase tip over the edge, a sandcastle crumbling into dirt, his mother crying as she fumbled for her cigarettes when she thought no one was watching—"it's not gonna be very long 'til your parents throw me away too."

Sae went silent. If his heart ached for you when he first laid eyes on you, then it was being crushed right now. He didn't think very hard about it when he placed a hand over one of yours.

"They wouldn't do something like that," he said.

Your fingers twitched under his, like you wanted to pull away.

"They want to. I can tell."

You're just imagining things, Sae nearly replied, but then he remembered that he'd never once heard his parents come here at night to check on your crying, and then he went quiet.

"...it doesn't matter," he eventually decided. "I won't let them."

A little sniff. "No?"

"No. I'll make sure you stay with us."

You blinked the saltwater away from your lashes, then gave him a curious look. "Why?"

"Because I'm your brother, and it's my job to take care of you."

"Really?" you asked, voice watery.

His eyes softened, his usual impassivity crumbling for you.

"Really. I would never let anyone throw you away," he said, and the words felt so ugly in his mouth that he couldn't fathom how anyone had done that to you. How anyone could have done anything to you. You were so sweet, and so kind, and so vulnerable, and it left him feeling sick when he imagined you being hurt in any way. "I'll keep you safe. Promise."

Sae nearly jumped when he felt something move in his hand. He looked down, saw your little fingers prodding at his own, and he offered you his open palm. You took it readily, Sae found himself transfixed by the latticework of your entwined fingers.

"Thank you, Sae-san."

"It's nothing," he wrote off. His thumb rubbed the back of your hand, gentle in a way that his voice wasn't. "But I'm your brother now, remember? You should address me properly."

You smiled a little, studying your interlocked fingers, and Sae felt a peculiar warmth in his chest, an uptick in his pulse.

"Okay, Nii-chan."

Nii-chan. Sae's always loved hearing that title in your mouth. Not out of a demand for respect the way Rin obsesses over it, but because you've always seemed so happy to say it, the syllables sweetened by your adoring tongue. Okay, Nii-chan, you've always said. I'll listen to you, Nii-chan. I trust you, Nii-chan. I love you, Nii-chan. I love you, I love you, I love you.

So please don't leave us again.

Please don't throw me away.

[changeling-droneco]

The only holiday in general for americans that is even on paper to come close it would probably be memorial or veterans day, but even while technically supposed to be a more somber occasion I associate it with the two million "FUCK YEAH AMERICA MATTRESSES ARE ON SAAAALE eagle screech" ads you'd always get around that time when I was younger and that time a vet in my welding class got annoyed at being given a flag pin during that time and gave it to me because i wore pins.

So even as someone who was only christian for like, the first six years of my life at most, the idea of holidays not being a celebration is still so very odd to me. Like it makes sense, but its just really ingrained that holiday = celebration in American culture I feel. Which probably have roots in being culturally christian but also roots in American individualism and the like.

Though also in the fact we're very much a very proud country that hates discussing anytime we lose along with not having had a big enough loss that shakes the country to the extent it can't be just glossed over, the closest would be 9-11 but even then that gets framed in a bit of a "this bad thing happened, so we beat them up over it WOOO" light.

Which can also very much I believe be attributed to the fact America as the country it is now in all things considered, pretty young, it became a colony in 1607 after all and gained independence in the 1700s. That's really not that old for a country, kinda young even. It's not really had a chance in a lot of ways to go through the kinds of things that create those kinds of holidays yet.

(Obviously it's more complicated then that as the Natives absolutely have gone through great loss, but this is about more the concept and perception of America as a country in the modern day, which is rather different then going over the actual political details of the history of the area as a whole. Very Istanbul not Constantinople)

Judaism makes holidays so hard to explain.

Why can’t you sit on chairs today? Because it’s a holiday.

Why do you have that weird lemon? Because it’s a holiday.

Why are you staying up all night? Because it’s a holiday.

Why are you building a hut? Because it’s a holiday.

Why are you trying to give me your flour? Because it’s a holiday.

Why are you apologizing for an argument I’ve forgotten about? Because it’s a holiday.

[midnightry]

Brother’s Keeper, Heart’s Betrayer.

Brothers best friend! Satoru Gojo x fem! reader.

Synopsis: Summer break is finally here!! It’s going to be a blast staying at your brothers place. That’s what you thought until you see the overly annoying Satoru Gojo In his house.

CW: Bbf!Gojo, 18+ themes, sexual tension, teasing, Enemies to Lovers?, Gojo being an ass, slight age gap (4 years).

Word count: 1195

A/N: I want to thank my friend @funnygirl12 for helping me with this concept❤️

Oh, how you loathed your older brother’s friends. They were loud, obnoxious, and always seemed to find a way to ruin your precious peace. The house would be filled with their chaotic noise, raucous laughter, and the smell of greasy takeout that lingered long after they’d gone. But none of them were as insufferable as Gojo Satoru.

When you first encountered him at twelve, things weren’t so bad. In fact, you even admired the sixteen-year-old with the striking blue eyes. He was always at your house, practically living there with your brother, and back then, he seemed like just another older, cooler figure. But as time passed, Gojo grew more confident—some would call it cocky—and that once-charming charisma turned into something downright irritating. His over-the-top confidence and teasing manner were enough to drive anyone up the wall.

Now, at twenty, you had just returned home from university. Your parents were away on a business trip, leaving you with your brother’s townhouse for the summer. The thought of a few weeks of peace and quiet was enough to make you sigh in relief. Finally, you could have some time to yourself. That was, until…

“Guess who’s home!!!”

Gojo’s obnoxious voice echoed through the house, piercing the tranquility you’d been looking forward to. You buried your face in your pillow and groaned. Of course, he was here. You briefly considered hiding under your covers and pretending you hadn’t heard him, but no—you were the good sister, right?

With a deep sigh, you dragged yourself out of bed. You would say hello, maybe make small talk, and then retreat back to your room. Simple enough. At least, that’s what you told yourself. But as you headed downstairs, the all-too-familiar sound of Gojo and your brother chatting away hit your ears. The two of them were sitting on the couch, beers in hand, deep in their usual “bro talk.”

You rolled your eyes before walking into the living room, putting on your best indifferent expression.

“I knew I heard your loud voice from my room,” you muttered, crossing your arms as you leaned against the doorframe. You glanced at both of them, offering a quick wave. “Hey.”

You grabbed a snack, hoping to make your escape upstairs, but then—

“Well, if it isn’t Y/N, the wet rat,” Gojo teased, his grin wide and annoying as ever.

Wet rat. The ridiculous nickname your brother and Gojo had dubbed you when you were kids. It had stuck through the years, and Gojo never missed an opportunity to use it. It was a playful jab, sure, but it grated on your nerves more than you’d like to admit.

You shot him a glare, but as you looked at him—really looked at him—you suddenly felt a strange sensation you hadn’t expected. His messy white hair, the way his blue eyes sparkled with mischief, the confident smirk that barely faded from his lips…

Wait. What was going on? You hated Gojo. You hated his cocky attitude, his ridiculous teasing, and the way he thought he could charm everyone around him with nothing more than a smile. You especially hated how easy it was for him to get under your skin. But there was something about him today—something that made you feel… uneasy.

No, you told yourself. Not this again. You couldn’t be thinking what you thought you were thinking.

“Ugh,” you muttered, mentally shaking off the thought, trying to focus on getting out of the room before your mind betrayed you any further.

“Your brother went to sleep, you know,” Gojo said, stretching out on the couch, his usual smirk dancing on his lips.

You raised an eyebrow, not sure if you were more annoyed or amused. “Lucky him,” you muttered, not bothering to look up as you rummaged through the kitchen.

Gojo shifted, sitting up slightly. “I’m bored, and you’re the most entertaining thing here,” he continued, his tone light but it carried a darker tone. Hinting at a slight desire for something…different.

His gaze was a weapon, sharp and direct, sending a rush of heat through your skin. His blue eyes, usually playful and teasing, now felt like they were cutting straight into you—reading you, knowing you in ways that made you feel both exposed and electrified. There was something darker there, something that made it impossible to look away, and you hated how much it affected you.

Why did he have to look at you like that?

You swore you could feel the weight of his stare searing into you, pulling you closer, inch by agonizing inch. Your heart pounded in your chest, and before you could think, your body moved of its own accord. The space between you closed, the air around you thick with tension, and just as your breath hitched, you found yourself reaching for him.

And then—you kissed him.

It was impulsive. Reckless. The kind of kiss that made the world shift on its axis. Your lips crashed together with a hunger that startled you. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing. Gojo’s hand found the back of your neck, holding you there, as if he had been waiting for this exact moment. His lips were warm, insistent, and as his tongue slid against yours, you felt the rest of the world fall away.

Everything you’d ever hated about him—the cocky grin, the teasing, the way he always seemed to get under your skin—faded into the background. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was the pull between you, the kiss that burned hotter with every second, and the way his hands seemed to understand exactly how to drive you wild.

You couldn’t stop it. You didn’t want too. Nor did he.

He wanted to feel you around him. He wanted to hear you scream his name, he wanted you to be his, and his alone.

The tension was unbearable. Every part of your being screamed for release, for something more, something raw, something real. But you knew this was dangerous, and yet, in that split second, it didn’t matter.

“Say my name,” Gojo whispered, his voice low and almost a challenge. It was a simple request, but it burned in the space between you. His eyes dared you to admit what you were feeling, to admit how much he affected you.

“Satoru,” you whimpered, your voice a breathless plea, wanting more of him, needing more. But just as the words left your lips, he pulled away, his long fingers gently pressing against your mouth, silencing you.

“I didn’t take you for a desperate thing, sweetheart,” Gojo said, his tone laced with mock amusement, the same confident smirk never leaving his face. His words cut deeper than you cared to admit.

And then, like the frustrating, infuriating person he was, he simply turned and walked away, leaving you standing there—a mess of emotions, torn between anger and dripping with need.

Oh how you loathed Gojo Satoru.

*********************************************

Thank you so much for reading!!! Feedback is greatly appreciated!

❤️

-R

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Baby: Part One

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.6k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst, feeling broken and utterly helpless to the point of depression, wanting to die, being shot

Summary: You're trying to prove to Sam and Dean that after two months of having your soul restored, you're all better. You'll gladly play the part if it means they don't worry about you. However, that facade is slowly being stripped away from you the longer you go without facing up to those feelings. You're not okay and you need to stop pretending like you are.

Season Eleven Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

x

It's been a month since Molly has been living at the Bunker with your family. You wanted to give the kids a chance to get to know her before school starts. It's been going about as well as you expected it to go. Joanna absolutely loves her, Maryann is a bit cautious, and Noah makes it clear he doesn't like her. Molly is doing her best to help with chores and taking care of the dogs as well as getting used to the kids.

She's been dedicating all of her time being with the kids, taking them out to the park, and allowing them room to get used to her. You don't want her to feel suffocated here so you help where you can to give her a break so she spends her time in the library reading about anything and everything. Her knowledge of the hunting life wasn't that big but now she has an entire library full of lore to fall back on.

If she's going to be taking care of Winchester children, she has to know what's out there. She's a good hunter but there is always room for improvement.

You're in the kitchen making the kids lunch while Molly helps the girls get ready for school. Noah is the first one in the kitchen and the first one to grab his lunch.

"Can you at least pretend you like Molly?"

"I don't know why she's even here. I don't need a babysitter. I'm almost thirteen."

"She's not a babysitter." You sigh and lean against the kitchen island. "I've done things I'm not proud of, Noah, and I need to know that when your dad, uncle, and I are gone from this Bunker, you're safe. Just you being a Winchester has enough of a target on your back. I need someone here to look after you not because I don't trust you but because I love you. I think you're old enough to go to school on your own but your sisters aren't. What if something happens to you on the way to school? What will you do? You're not prepared but Molly is."

"How long is she going to be here?"

"I don't know. Right now, I need all the help I can get."

"Guess."

"At least a year. Maybe more. Work with her, Noah. All I ask is that you try. Can you do that for me, please?"

"Alright," Noah sighs.

"Thank you."

You pull Noah in for a hug he acts like he doesn't want but you see the smile on his face. You kiss the top of his head just as Molly and your daughters walk in. You give the lunches to Molly who packs them inside their backpacks.

"Thanks for doing this, Molly."

"It's no problem, really."

She leaves with the kids to bring them to their first day of school. Noah is starting the 7th grade, Joanna is starting Kindergarten, and Maryann is in preschool. You can't wait for them to get home so you can hear all about their day. This past month has been especially hard for you because you're in a constant battle between yourself and wanting to give your kids the love they deserve.

You're not fully back yet and you're not sure when you will be. You have to take it day by day and see how you feel but you can already tell this isn't going to be a good one. As soon as the kids are gone, the tears come. You put your hand to your mouth to silence your sobs but two manage to escape.

No, we're not doing this today. A month with your soul restored isn't enough time to get over just how bad you were... how many people you've killed. I need Dean. He makes everything better even if he's just standing there. He and Sam decided to forgive you for what you did but you know you have a long road ahead of you of making it up to them. Thank God your kids don't know what you did otherwise you'd have killed yourself for sure.

You wipe the tears from your face and go find your husband who is inside the garage washing his precious car... again. His back is turned to you as he leans over the trunk to wash the back window. You want to help him. You want to be able to go over to him and offer to help but you feel frozen in your stance. How can you ever go back to doing normal shit when you feel so far from normal?

Someone walks up behind you and you turn to see Sam there. You mutter a quick apology and move out of his way. He decides to give you some space and walks over to his brother who just now notices you two.

"Hey. Did you find anything?"

"On the Darkness? No."

"What about Metatron?"

"No."

"Great. So, we have an ancient evil out there somewhere just getting stronger by the day."

"Cas is getting better so there's that. He still needs more time to heal, though."

Sam grabs a sponge and helps his brother wash the car while you stay by the door and watch them.

"I guess we got nothing to do but get better. Speaking of, you doing alright, sweetheart?"

Both brothers look at you and you blush out of embarrassment.

"Fine."

Dean hums but goes back to what he was doing. He doesn't believe you but that's a conversation to be had in the privacy of your own bedroom instead of in front of Sam.

"I don't know about you two, but I've got some serious cabin fever. I've washed every car in here twice."

"I may have found us a case in Oregon. I mean, it's thin but--"

"Thin works. Tell me on the way."

While the brothers dry the soap and water off the car, you take your phone out and text Molly your plans.

You: Hey, the boys and I are going to Oregon for a case. We should be back by the end of the week.

Molly: Go. I got this.

You really don't deserve her and you barely even know her. You're not sure where you're at but when it starts raining, Dean scoffs knowing he just washed his car. You're sitting in the back seat with your head resting on the window watching the drops of water race down the window.

"Alright, let's hear it. What are we getting into?"

"There's a town outside of Eugene, Oregon called Quaker Valley. Dwayne Markham, the local sheriff, was found in the woods a couple of days ago. His body was mauled so they chalked it up to an animal attack, but I'm thinking it could be a werewolf."

"You're right. That is thin."

"Probably nothing, right?"

"Probably not. Oregon, here we come."

Sam's phone rings and he answers Castiel's call. He places him on speakerphone and you pull your eyes away from the window to look at the phone as if Castiel is standing right there.

"Hey, Cas. Everything alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I was just reading up about the other cases in the area that you're headed to. I haven't found anything yet that matches."

"Cas, you've got one job to do and that's to heal."

"I can help, Dean."

"Yeah, I know but now is the time for you to focus on getting better. This is just a milk run. We got it. So, try and relax."

"Alright."

"Read a book and watch some Netflix."

"What's a 'Netflix'?"

"Go to my room and turn on the TV. It's the red and black icon. You'll figure it out."

"Call me if you need anything."

"Got it. Thanks, Cas." Sam hangs up. "Do you think he's gonna be okay?"

"Yeah. He just needs some time, you know? We all do."

I don't think time will fix me. Dean doesn't want to drive all the way to Oregon in one trip so he stops somewhere in Salt Lake City to get some rest for the night. He pulls up in front of a sketchy-looking bar called The Roadhouse, and all you can think about is getting a room and crying yourself to sleep.

"Are you serious, Dean? It's late. I'm exhausted and starving. This place... I mean, even Swayze wouldn't come to this roadhouse."

"Okay, first of all, never use Swayze's name in vain. Okay? Ever. Second, you don't remember this place? You don't remember the hunt we worked on with the Wendigo a couple of years ago?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Look, we have a lot of driving to do just to go to a town where there's probably not a case. We could make this night a good one if we let it. What do you say? Sweetheart?"

"I don't care," you sigh and look down.

"I say, knock yourself out. I'm gonna find a diner, dig into the lore like Cas did, and see if anything has ever happened where we're headed."

"Oh, man, you really gotta learn to have fun. Seriously, it's pathetic. Come on, sweetheart. Let's go."

You and Dean separate from Sam once you all get out of the car. Just let me cry in peace. Dean has to drag you into the lively bar, and you take out your phone to message Molly.

You: How was the kids' first day of school?

Molly: It went as expected. It was a good first day and now they're in their beds sleeping.

Dean reaches over and takes your phone from you before you have a chance to message Molly back. You and Dean sit at the bar, both of you wearing different faces. The bartender looks at you and decides your poison will be the strongest drink they have, but you don't touch it.

"Just give me one night where you block everything out, okay?"

"I can't, Dean," you sigh.

"What's it going to take for you to be okay?"

You snap your head up and glare at Dean who is taken aback by your sudden change in attitude.

"This isn't some depressive episode, Dean. For an entire year, I spent life soulless. For an entire year, I... hurt people... killed people with my magic. My magic that is supposed to be used to heal people. That doesn't go away after two months."

"Yeah, I know--"

"No, you don't know. You want to know but you don't, and I don't expect you to. Just stop pretending like everything is fine when it's not."

You get up and walk to the bathroom without another word. Dean sighs and looks at his phone thoughtfully. He's debating on calling Sam but decides against it. He wants to be there for you but he doesn't know how if he can't understand. Maybe he should call the new Death and make him put a wall in your head. After taking a moment or two to yourself, you walk back out of the bathroom and over to Dean.

"Enjoy your time here, Dean. I'm getting a motel for the night. I'm tired."

"Y/N--"

"Goodnight, Dean."

You leave your phone with him and leave the bar. There is a motel right across the street from the bar so that's where you walk over to. There are a lot of rooms available but you don't care which one you get. You just need to get inside a room before you break down crying. You pay for the night and leave with the key in hand. You don't bother locking the door because as soon as you close the door, you're already in tears.

You sit on the edge of the bed and look down at your hands. Hands that have killed. They glow softly with blue magic but seeing that magic brings such a heavy weight to your heart. It hurts to see your magic. It's like someone has stabbed you in the heart and left a dull knife inside of you. It hurts to breathe. It hurts to think. It hurts to live. I hurt all over and Dean doesn't even know. You put your head in your hands and sob. Your wails are loud enough that you're sure the neighbors on either side of you can hear you.

You jump when you feel a hand touch your shoulder but you don't look at who it is. You already know who it is. Dean pulls you into his arms and lets you sob into his chest. He is here for you through your worst and will do anything to take care of you no matter what that entails. Seeing you this way is worse than seeing you without a soul. He knows you're hurting and he can't do anything to make it better. At least with before, he knew the real you was stuck inside his head. He knew he could fix that.

He doesn't know how to fix this.

As soon as the sun starts shining through the window, you and Dean are already heading back to the Impala. You don't know if you can talk about what happened and Dean doesn't force you to. What he did last night helped only because it was he who was holding you. He stayed up well past after you fell asleep just to listen to you breathe. He prayed that you'd make it out okay for whatever it's worth.

You stop short when you see Sam naked in the back seat with a blonde woman on top of him. You gasp loud enough to wake her up, and she looks around frantically.

"Who are you two?" she asks.

"Sam!"

"Ah, what?" He opens his eyes and looks at you and Dean sheepishly. "This is my brother, Dean, and his wife, Y/N."

You immediately look away when she shifts enough to reveal Sam's cock. You know what it looks like but you don't want to violate him like that.

"Sorry, Sam, I didn't realize you had company," Dean chuckles.

"Yeah, uh, could you give us a minute?"

"Yeah."

Dean takes your hand and heads to the diner that's in the same complex as the bar. You two take a table by the window with a clear shot of the Impala, and Dean orders for you two. You look away from the car with a sigh, and Dean slides your phone across the table toward you.

"I charged it for you."

"Thanks," you whisper.

After getting some food in your stomach, you see the woman Sam was with walk into the diner wearing a uniform. Son of a bitch works here. Dean pays for the bill and you two walk back out to the car where Sam is now in the front seat. He is buttoning up his shirt but you don't immediately get in the back. You open the trunk and grab some baby wipes from the baby bag you have stashed back here. You notice your own bag and ruffle through it until you find what you're looking for. You close the trunk and start wiping the back seat with the baby wipes.

"I put a blanket down," Sam huffs out.

"My kids sit back here, Sam. I don't need them contracting a disease because you couldn't keep it in your pants."

Once you deem it safe to sit back there, you climb into the car and clutch the notebook you grabbed from your bag to your chest. Dean grabs a cassette tape from the glove compartment and shoves it into the player.

"Dean, I can explain what was going on--"

"No, no, no. No need."

Bob Seger's "Night Moves" starts playing and Sam scoffs at the silent message Dean is trying to tell him.

"Don't 'Night Moves' me."

"Shh. Just let it wash over you. Just take it in," he smirks.

"This is ridiculous."

"He's one of the greatest rock writers of all time, Samuel."

He rolls his eyes. "It's Sam."

x

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[radfemfessing]

I find it a bit hilarious when women on here say that bisexual women can't possibly know what oppression for your sexuality is like. Or that bi women just don't have the experience of growing up facing homophobia, not knowing a way out etc etc because bi women can choose to just fuck a man anytime if they aren't in the mood for homophobia. And I can imagine that for some women, it might be like that? But it isn't for a lot of us. I am bi, yes. But I can NOT choose to be with a man anytime. I have an extreme preference for women, I had my sexual awakening and my first sexual experiences with girls, I only had relationships with women, I have only fallen in love with women. I didn't know I could like men until years after I discovered I was attracted to girls. And even then, I never felt the intense attraction and love that I have for women. I never wanted to be in a relationship with a man, I tried sex with them but it was so bad that I never want to do it again. I was beat up for having a girlfriend in school. Being with women in public has gotten me harrassed and threatened with violence. As a teenager I self harmed because of the homophobic bullying and I wished I was just "normal". The "Normal" never happened despite being able to be attracted to men. Do you think I would have gone through all of that bullshit if I could have said "lets date/marry a dude" anytime? Sexuality isn't a spectrum, bi women shouldn't call themselves lesbians, lesbians can date exclusively lesbians if they want to and het partnered bi women are privileged and hold oppressive power over lesbians. That's all true but why do these things always go along with "bi women are all bihets who could just date a man to get away from homophobia and thus dont know what homophobia is like". Sexuality isn't a spectrum, but bisexuality is. And some women are at the very far SSA end of it. Not the same experience as lesbians of course. But also not "can choose to be with a man anytime and is basically straight". All of you looove to believe in the bihet woman who doesn't even like pussy and only sees men as "the real thing" in regards to relationships and sex. Why is the opposite of that so impossible to believe in? Bi women who never considered men for relationships (and sex) and only have sex/relationships with women? It certainly is more rare but why should it be so impossible? My suspicion is that a lot of these women call themselves lesbians and that pushes two harmful myths: that bi women on the far SSA end of the bi spectrum don't exist. And that lesbians can be attracted to men, even if it's just a tiny bit. I encourage bi women like me and bi women in general to actually call themselves bi to end this bullshit.

🦧

[enby-denby]

AquisitionsOk well, here's a few off the top of my head:

1. Assuming that American= uneducated= dumb. That's kind of just bullying us for having selfish and out of touch politicians rewriting our education policy, and is especially bad when the person has a southern/rural accent.

2.Related,: not everyone with a rural accent is from Texas. Not every American acts like a Texan. There are American ethnoregions that are not Texas, New York or New Orleans

3. This is gonna sound weird, but assuming that every (white) American is a racist. It was very disturbing to me, a year into going to a liberal college and overcoming my family-specific learned bigotry, only to hear my Saudi Arabian classmate say the most DISTURBINGLY UNHINGED things about black people, because he thought I was "safe" for that. Literally calling them animals, and surprised I wasn't agreeing and laughing along with him.

4."Americans have no Culture" wrong we have at least two or three for every state. If you count indigenous and adjacent island cultures like Gullah-Geechee, it's easily hundreds of American cultures.

5. Related to the above: the American Indians are not gone, and they are part of the reason why America has hundreds cultures. Actually, I'm gonna make the next few entries on Indigenous Americans, because a lot of casual bigotry gets tossed their way.

5. Not every North American tribe has stories about w*ndigo or sk*nwalkers. None of them have stories about chupacabra (very new creatures concept) and I didn't censor it like the others because those creatures are spiritually significant to the tribes that DO have legends about them and not meant to be Hollywood monsters.

6. Yes, Native Americans participate in capitalism and run casinos. This does not make them greedy, or sellouts to the greater American hegemony, they are trying to survive and usually use any excess proceeds to build museums to protect their cultural artifacts and educate visitors on their culture. Likewise, an indigenous person practicing native rituals isn't "regressing to savegry", they are reclaiming a cultural identity they were literally forced to give up by the US government.

7. Just like there is no monolith White American or Native American identity, there is major diversity among African, Asian, South American and pacific-islander cultures within America. People who saying don't see color" (American or not) are admitting that they don't see culture or the nuances therein.

8.its not that Americans are uncultured for not going on vacation to other countries, those that can't usually either can't afford more than one-in-a-lifetime trips (with a high price tag and a lot of hassle) or live in a state with lots of nearby state parks and monuments. There's a lott to see, even just in the lower 48!

9.We have shockingly little control over the electtion process in our country thanks to the electoral college and how Supreme Court justices are chosen.

10. You've got to remember that the myth of Rugged Individualism has poisoned every social project in this country. When we complain about not being able to afford a medical bill or whatever, please don't recommend any "simple fixes" without checking first if they are illegal/unaffordable in that specific state or county

I was watching a video a while ago of some white European guy debunking European stereotypes of USAmericans and it was an eye opener because nearly every stereotype fell into one or more of three categories:

Something that's only true if we're talking about Evangelicals

Actually true about the general population but exaggerated

Literally just straight up bigotry

[dissembledthyme]

Low quality Rich Honey and Pure Vanilla things LMAO They're a bit in love

[bacchuschucklefuck]

Ooh what's barbarian Figs subclass

m flipfloppin between giant and totem (def reskinned) for her rn! giant would be Really funny for junior year and there's some thematic stuff for the transformation element I think would be interesting, but just purely on a character basis I think fig would love totem esp. as a barbie girl in freshman year. if I land on totem I kinda imagine it like a wuxia animal style thing tbh, mostly just because the idea of someone coming into a fight expecting typical movie shaolin choreography and getting Teenager That Mauls You To Death is entertaining to me

[seaweedstarshine]

Thinking about the convolution of Eleventh Doctor's expressions of love for River Song in Season 7B. He does not trust Clara. He is utterly (wrongly) convinced that he and Clara are playing a grand manipulative game together. “What are you, eh?! A trick? A trap?!!”

So naturally, the last thing he should do in this game is to clue his opponent in on something that could be used to hurt him. Something like River, so painfully near the end of their time together, whose data ghost he can always see, who “it would hurt too much” to acknowledge. He can't let Clara know of the loss which constantly floods his senses; (“You are always here to me. And I always listen, and I can always see you,” he professes, once Clara has vanished into his timestream).

And yet. River fills his every moment (irregardless of any sneaking out for dates with increasingly-young Rivers while Clara is asleep like he did while the Ponds slept, which would explain his absence when the TARDIS is hiding Clara's bedroom). Even though it's not strategic, he can’t help but tell Clara about her. The best defense he can manage is to phrase it as if River isn’t as important to him as she is. Not only is avoiding her first name in his grief; he's also completely avoiding pronouns; which seems extreme given that he's still mentioning her as often as: “Oh yeah, of course he has! Professor Song! Sorry, it's just I never realized you were a woman.”

Leave out the emotion — leave out the details — don't show the cracks in the armor — play the part — win the game.

“Well, there's no point now. We're about to die. JUST TELL ME WHO YOU ARE.”

[impcrios]

she can't help but roll her eyes at his first sentence, it sounded condescending in the tone that he said it, but she let it go. they knew when to pick their battles and she wasn't about to go sprouting off on the apprenticeship that she had under her belt or the fact that she had been in her line of work for over six years now. they weren't an idiot when it came to lucius malfoy, they had been in the same house, same year, knew that his father died and ended up being the head of his house, too young for anyone, and at the moment it had happened she had felt bad for him. it would be a loss to lose a parent, a loss to have an empty mansion with ghosts not seen, and a younger sister and mother to care for. she sees it then, the first sign of emotion, the irritation, her mask is composed again, the shift in tone changing once more. her mother had tried to beat her into submission when it came to proper etiquette and decorum, chastising them that they said whatever came to their mind. she takes a deep breath, listening to him, trying to understand, but there's a very deep part of her that just feels doomed. maybe even a bit sad. 'you don't think i couldn't have any girl i wanted,' she raises an eyebrow at that, her arms crossed, clutching her wand, and when he keeps talking and painting the picture of the kind of wife that she should be, she gulps, her jaw slackening at the thought. then lucius goes for the jugular, as any slytherin would. she can't help but the corner of her lip almost turning upward. maybe he had been right, maybe she did want to be different so badly, but there was one thing that she clung onto. "i'm not unhappy, malfoy." at least, in terms of her career life. in fact, she felt like she was finally free. they had a job that they loved, a place to call home in england and in romania. they had dragons that they cared for since they were born, that only knew narcissa as their loyal caretaker. the only thing that truly made her unhappy was the fact that andromeda was gone. 'what  is  it  i'm  working  for,  or  that  you'll  allow  me  to  work  for', before she can even answer she hears it. toujours  pur. she could react in anger, in fact, she wanted to punch him in the face. but they wouldn't give him the satisfaction. "are they?" she asks, are they truly happy? they could name many girls in their year who would speak only ever in the dark about how it felt like being someone's property to be betrothed to someone but no one ever said the quiet part out loud. "are you? aside from gaining the black name and my family? are you happy?" whatever his answer would be, it would always come back to family duty and honour. maybe that's what it would always be between the two of them. it made her sad for the both of them.

lucius  malfoy  knows  many  things.  he  excels  in  potion  making,  charms,  conducting  business,  having  a  poker  face,  operating  malfoy  manor,  attending  meetings,  hiding  his  allegiances.  there  aren't  many  things  he  doesn't  know  —  but  now  he  has  two:  dragons and how  to  handle  narcissa  black.  ❝  this  tells  me  you've  done  the  research.  ❞  not  that  it  took  a  genius  to  see  how  the  dragons  are  chained  and  harmed  while  making  a  visit  to  gringotts,  he  still  wasn't  sure  how  he'd  manage  narcissa's  request,  but  he  knows  people  —  it's  the  one  thing  he  knows  how  to  do.  ❝  i'm  not  asking  for  effort  from  you,  ❞  the  words  come  out  sharp,  irritation  veiling  his  tone.  lucius'  doing  the  best  he  hows  how  and  yet  narcissa  twists  his  words,  sizing  her  up  as  well.  ❝  you  don't  think  i  couldn't  have  any  girl  i  wanted  ?  ❞  it  wasn't  meant  to  be  cocky,  but  more  matter-of-fact.  lucius  malfoy  was  an  eligible  man  and  already  head  of  his  household  —  the  families  of  many  single,  pureblooded  woman  had  already  sent  in  requests  for  lucius  to  take  their  daughters  hand  in  marriage.  lucius  didn't  accept  any  of  them.  ❝  i'm  being  serious,  ❞  his  voice  lowers  as  he  watches  narcissa  closely.  ❝  you  think  i  would  accept  a  proposal  with  you  if  i  wanted  a  socialite  to  fill  my  house  with  unwanted  people  for  parties  and  change  the  decorations  every  month  ?  ❞  he  takes  a  pause,  a  moment  to  really  look  at  them.  ❝  i  think  you  want  to  be  so  different  so  badly  that  you  cause  yourself  to  be  as  unhappy  as  you  are.  what  is  it  i'm  working  for,  or  that  you'll  allow  me  to  work  for  ?  you  and  i  always  knew  this  was  our  path  —  family.  duty.  honor.  toujours  pur.  ❞  the  french  house  of  black  motto  rolls  off  of  his  tongue.  ❝  did  you  think  this  would  be  different  for  you  ?  even  if  you  think  those  other  pureblooded  girls  are  easy  or  lesser,  at  least  they're  happy.  ❞

[clementimetodie]

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