#now i'm getting best of both worlds/wars

[suratan-zir]

Why do some people believe this false info that people in Donetsk and Luhansk oblast support Russia? Yeah some of them may support Russia, but i don't think the majority of people do.

That's a very complicated question - one I'm not quite prepared to answer today, because today has been a lot. But I'll try anyway.

The statement "people in Donetsk and Luhansk oblast support russia" is both correct and incorrect. It's all about the context.

Let's start from the beginning. Russian propaganda was rampant in these regions for years before 2014. The Kremlin poured a lot of resources into conditioning people in the Donbas to believe russian false narratives, creating an artificial divide between the eastern and western parts of Ukraine - an "us vs. them" dynamic. Once they achieved that, they simply claimed, "It was always like that. These are different nations, different people, and they were always against each other" - which, of course, is a lie.

Disinformation coming from russia was often so obscenely ridiculous that one has to wonder how people believed it. How they still believe it. Takes like "Western Ukrainians ("Banderovites," Nazis, "raguli," etc.) will create concentration camps for the Russian-speaking people of the Donbas" or "They will extract shale gas here, which will make the entire region completely uninhabitable."

Along with the fearmongering and dividing one nation into "us" and "them," russia also pushed the false narrative that the Donbas was "feeding" Ukraine ("Донбасс кормит Украину"), suggesting that other parts of Ukraine were nothing but parasites, feeding off the hard-working people of the Donbas. You see where this is going? The road to separatist sentiments was paved completely artificially by russia, and the so-called DPR (Donetsk People's Republic) was first created in 2005-2006 - many years before it actually came to fruition. There are speculations suggesting that Yanukovych and Putin wanted to divide Ukraine into two separate entities, separating western Ukraine.

In any case, all of this was possible only due to russia's corrosive influence paired with Ukrainian authorities not doing shit to stop it (likely due to russian infiltration). Heck, I remember absurd disinformation like "Ukraine got rid of all the residents of Sloviansk, secretly replacing them with Ukrainian-speaking khokhols from western Ukraine" (this was right after Ukraine liberated Sloviansk in 2014). Who could believe this nonsense? A lot of not-very-smart people.

Then there's the issue of gradual filtration and, as a result, the general degradation of the population. Since 2014, being openly pro-Ukrainian in russian-occupied parts of the Donbas has been dangerous. The last pro-Ukraine protesters were brutally beaten by russian thugs. Later, such protests became impossible altogether. So, those who could afford to leave - or who had nothing to lose - moved away. The pro-Ukrainian people who stayed can't express their real opinions without risking being thrown into a torture dungeon. Even before 2022, something as small as singing a song in Ukrainian in public could get you in trouble - or even cost you your life, depending on how lucky you were.

After 2014, when russia occupied parts of the Donbas, they continued their false narrative, claiming that western Ukrainians wanted to genocide/enslave/set on fire/etc. all Russian-speaking people from the east - despite the fact that Russian-speaking people in towns just a couple of kilometers from occupied Donetsk were living completely normal lives (when not shelled by russian terrorists). Their lives were much better than those in the occupied territories. It's hard to explain. All I can say is: corruption, propaganda, stupidity.

The irony is that now russia is doing exactly what it claimed Ukraine would do to Ukrainians living in the Donbas - concentration camps, genocide, persecution based on language, robbing the region of all its wealth and redistributing it to Putin's oligarchs, making the region uninhabitable for generations to come... the list goes on. Every accusation was a confession.

They have also switched the cause and effect - a standard gaslighting tactic used by dictators and domestic abusers alike. They created a parallel reality in which it's not russia who attacked Ukraine first in 2014, seized parts of Ukrainian land, and started a war. No, in their version, Ukraine is the aggressor, who had been "torturing" the people of the Donbas for eight years before russia invaded again and killed thousands of them.

People believe this for the same reason they believe any other bullshit - propaganda, low intellectual potential, more propaganda. People outside of the Donbas believe the "pro-russian Donetsk and Luhansk" because it's easy to create a false picture nowadays, especially if you don't really want to research the topic, but rather seek the confirmation of your own bias.

[crimeronan]

watching alfie become catastrophically enamored with lunter over the course of thanks to them was so fucking funny i LOVE showing toh to new people. everyone gets something slightly different out of it. and it is Literally Always Hilarious.

[pha55ed]

Nonsense Christmas || F1/F2

type :: smut!

tw/cw :: smut!, hot women in minimal clothing!!!, sexual jokes,

contains :: carlos, charles, lando, oscar, max, ollie, paul, pepe

summary :: you get offered to do a photoshoot for christmas which is awesome! but the drivers then find out it's a lingerie shoot and lose their minds

xmas celly here! || f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist

Carlos Sainz | 55

yourusername : so excited to announce my collab with savage x fenty! this design is so cute and perfect for girlys to surprise their bfs (or gfs) in! which is what im doing rn! hi carlos 👋😊

→ user 01: OH MY GAWWWD??? JAW ON THE FLOOR

⎯→ user 02: Carlos gotta be able to fight or else imma snatch her away

→ carlossainz55: you look lovely! (answer the phone now)

⎯→ yourusername: thank you!! (no, im scared

→ user 03: her face card is so lethal

→ user 04: she's this generations it girl omfg

The second you answered his calls, Carlos was hyperventilating. It was like you could practically hear how feral he was going after seeing your photoshoot. You couldn't help but smile at the thought of him going crazy. Your surprise went perfectly!

"I'm coming home now," He says sternly, "Unlock all the doors, I'm running in."

"Well that doesn't sound very safe." You say, trying to joke with him. Thank god he couldn't see you in person or else he would see how wide you were grinning at his words.

"Oh shut up, wait for me on the bed" He says as he hangs up.

You did your job and now all you had to do was wait- Oh my fucking god he's at the door already. You can't even say anything before he's all up on you, getting ready to berate you for looking too good for the world's eyes.

"I missed you" He mumbles as he kisses your neck eagerly. His hands roaming down to your ass, giving it a squeeze which makes you laugh. But he's not smiling at all. You knew what was gonna happen and you didn't care.

Charles Leclerc | 16

yourusername : the victoria secret winter showcase was such a blast! loved seeing all my girls again and esp all you guys! i wouldn't be here without you <3 happy holidays to all

→ user 01: MOTHER IS BACK!!!!

⎯→ user 02: Literally the best walk in the whole show

→ charles_leclerc: i will go to war for you

⎯→ user 03: she awoken his primal instincts

→ user 04: will we see you again??? u were SLAYINGGG

⎯→ yourusername: duh! see you next year <3

→ user 04: she's beautiful, humble, and with a rich boyfriend? when is it my turn

The second you got off stage, Charles was doing his absolute best to compose himself. Seeing you still in your lingerie set, cute little hat and gloves made him pants feel so tight. You kept wanting to say goodbye to all the girls, thanking the staff, being your usual self. This is the one time Charles was wishing you would keep your mouth shut and rush home.

Once you both were out, he rushed you into the car. But not the passenger seat, instead he pushed you into the back seats. He quickly followed you, unbuckling his belt and staring at your body.

"Charles!" You say, shocked at how desperate this man was. "We can't! People are gonna see-"

"And?" He says as he rips his belt off and begins to unbutton his shirt. "My windows are tinted, amor, no one will see."

He's hands are quick, instantly getting your clothes off too. Once he saw the same white lacy set you were wearing earlier, he can't help but grin like crazy. He was worshipping the ground you walked on. Practically licking your footsteps.

"I'm so so lucky," He groans, his hands caresses your body with such care. "So so lucky."

Lando Norris | 04

yourusername : skim's winter collection is out!!! And I'm part of it! So happy to show off these sets to the world ❤️

→ user 01: body is TEAAAA

⎯→ user 02: the body of my dream fr fr

→ landonorris: but when i wear ur bras I'm a slut???

⎯→ yourusername: u got no boobs to deserve a bra

⎯→ landonorris: so ur calling me skinnyyyyyyy?

→ user 03: slayed so hard that dinosaurs r extinct

⎯→ yourusername: don't blame me for that :(

→ user 04: can't believe lando is just... joking around... do u think this is a fucking game? you think this is funny? i will steal your girl and propose and start a family of 5.

⎯→ landonorris: trust me, we're gonna be a family of 5 once i'm home

And he wasn't joking about that comment because you two have been at it for almost an hour at this point. He was flipping you from position to position just to make sure he got every single angle of you in this lingerie set. Doggy, missionary, cowgirl, all sorts of positions that even Sabrina Carpenter hasn't tried.

He already cummed once too, but he was so horny that he was instantly recharged. Thankfully he was sane enough to help clean you up before pounding you once again. But that was the only break you had. You couldn't help but just feel bad for your neighbors for having to hear you two go wild.

But Lando isn't a monster! He knows that it can hurt after going for so long. So while your whining, begging him to slow down or give you a break for minute, he simply just reaches for the bedside drawer. He whips out a fat tube of lube and squirts some onto his dick before quickly getting back to work.

"L-Love you," He mumbles as he keeps thrusting in and out "Love you so much, ahh"

Oscar Piastri | 81

yourusername: let my inner princess out for Victoria Secret's Santa Baby collection! every piece is so precious, just like all the crew members and girls 💋

→ user 01: literally a goddess

⎯→ user 02: blessed by aphrodite herself

⎯→ user 03: she IS aphrodite

⎯→ yourusername: don't curse me girl 🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️

→ user 04: ur such a ball of sunshine UGHHHH

→ user 05: i pray this doesn't get on my bf's feed

→ user 06: can oscar fight?

⎯→ oscarpiastri: no but i can dox you

You know "Jealous" by Nick Jonas? That's exactly how he's feeling right now. Seeing everyone admire not just your body but how lovely your energy is was making him want to burn the entire building down. He was so supportive of your being a model, how could he gate keep your beauty from the world?

But now, oh god he hates this. He rushes you both home after the shoot and instantly lays you on the bed. His mind is racing yet he's not saying much to you.

"Oscar?" You ask him, looking up at him from the bed. Which instantly makes his dick throb, something you see through his pants. Even just saying his name might drive him to the edge.

"If I cover you in hickies, you can't work anymore, right?" He says, taking off your top and rushing to unbutton your jeans.

"Don't do that," You say trying to sound stern but you did love the idea. "You know I have another shoot soon!"

"You have foundation," He says as he begins to kiss down your neck and pressing harsh circles on your clit "You'll live." He says as he pushes your panties to the side. Your breathing hitches, knowing how good he was with his fingers.

"Unless," He pulls his hands away and looks down at you. "you really don't want to?"

But he knows you want it, he just wanted to hear you say it. To know you were as needy for him that he was for you.

Max Verstappen | 01

yourusername: i WOULD be freezing cold but thank god for the skims fleece bodysuits!! happy holidays to all! may ur pussys be warm and used ⛷️

→ user 01: (Y/N)?!?!?!1 THE CAPTION

⎯→ user 02: i need to know if kim's reaction to this 😭

→ user 03: literally like a barbie doll

→ user 04: looked at myself and sighed

⎯→ yourusername: stalked ur page and found ur facebook, GIRL u go to stanford, have a nice ass house, AND A LETHAL ASS FACECARDDDD hush ur mouth, ur lovely

⎯→ user 04: omg thank you??!?!?!?!! 😭😭

⎯→ user 05: she's the ultimate girls-girls

→ user 06: if max doesn't comment soon i'mma assume she's free for me

→ maxverstappen1: sorry i was drooling, im only commenting to scare user 06 away

⎯→ user 06: im gonna hex you.

You fully unlocked mad max at these photos. Although the shoot was simple and not even super suggestive: he was fuming and needed to get it out. He was joking in the comments, but he’s already jacked off once to the photos.

And once he gets home, it’s over for you. You’re pinned against the wall, his lips going all over your body. Not an inch of you is left unkissed.

“Unbelievable” he said as he sneaks a hand behind your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair. He tugs you downwards, you already know that that means.

Instantly you’re on your knees, looking up at him as if you had no idea why he was so angry. That just made him even more angry. Which may or may not have been your intention.

He unbuckled his pants quickly, throwing the belt to the side and letting his pants fall down to his knees. Your hands already know to do and pull his boxers down. And you’re instantly hit with the sight of his hard cock, a veiny and thick one.

You’ve seen it many times before, but you always can’t help but stare in awe of how something that size of a wrist is fitting inside you.

“Don’t just stare at it.” He tugs your face directly into his dick, smushing your face against it. “Get to work.”

Oliver Bearman | 87

yourusername: so so so happy to modeling the newest set for my bestie's brand! i'm wearing... nothing... 😉 the real sets come out in a week! stay tuned MWAH

→ user 01: my whole face is PINK omg

⎯→ user 02: my tip is RED

⎯→ user 03: oh...

⎯→ user 02: i'm a girl, dw

→ user 03: ... start an onlyfans... please.... please please please

→ user 04: oh my godddddd, i dropped the keys to my 1962 Ferrari 250 GTO, oh I'm so clumsy! (I'm 6'0 too) (and pretty funny)

⎯→ olliebearman: and i drive for ferrari, at 6'1, whilst cracking jokes

Ollie knows his worth, he knows he's a highly sought after man. But he's never felt more insecure than now, reading your comments filled with not just men but also girls?! He had to fight off both sides, which made him feel even more weary that his girlfriend is so desired.

So the only way for him to stop his insecurities was easy! Just fuck it out of his system, duh! So now, you're stuck bent over in doggy style in the shower. Why the shower? Because he knew he would make an absolute mess out of you.

He's pounding into you, making loud slaps against the walls. It echos throughout the entire bathroom. You're sure your neighbors can hear but there's not much you can do. You're stuck being a moaning mess while he's holding onto your hips for dear life.

As if that wasn't enough, he leaned forward to whisper into your ear. "Never, never again..." He says, breathing heavy from being so tired, yet his body was moving on his own. "No one can see you like this, ever."

Paul Aron | 17

yourusername: "angel?" set is out now! so proud to be part of the process for this🪽 i did, indeed, feel like an angel

→ user 01: mind you this is my first impression of you... and i'm following asap

⎯→ user 02: i was prepared to fight u for a second

→ user 03: LAWWDDD??? I COULD TAKE A BITE OUTTA UR ASS

⎯→ user 04: enough ass to feed a whole family of 5

→ user 05: paul... count your days

⎯→ paularon_: what did i do???

⎯→ user 06: u better worship the ground she walks on

⎯→ paularon_: of course i do, that's my whole purpose

→ user 07: perfect body, gorgeous face, hot ass boyfriend, GOD HAS FAVORITES

Oh he's livid. Not because you did the shoot, how could he blame you for simply looking good? He knew he picked a baddie and was ready to take all the repercussions alongside it. But he was livid because the fans were practically drooling over you. He's a possessive guy, it's basically his middle name.

He won't get off you at all, as if he needs you like air. His comment wasn’t a lie, he was worshipping you just like he should. Leaving hickies all over your neck, sucking on your breast, fingering you until you cummed at least twice. And he's not even done.

It's like he's trying his best to tease himself for as long as possible. You see how huge his dick is, how it's practically drowning in it's own precum. But he refuses to fuck you until he knows you're satisfied.

He's mainly doing this because he knows he's going to cum fast. Just from giving you pleasure makes him want to cum already. Being inside would only make him last one thrust, maybe two if he's lucky.

You're tired, fucked out from his fingers and sore from his hickies. But he simply kisses your cheek before bringing his head down to your cunt.

"N-No," you say, so overstimulated and wanting to see him get pleasure too. "Paul, just... Just f-fuck me already"

"Shhh" He says, not giving a single care for what you have to say. As he licks your cunt. You shiver from the touch, already knowing you're going to stuck in that bed for hours.

Pepe Marti | 21

yourusername: was i cold? 😣 yeah, but it was so worth it! loved working with the crew to take these breath-taking shots, i've never felt prettier 💌

→ user 01: oh. my. GOD??????? THE BODY

⎯→ user 02: seeing her without a 10lbs hoodie hiding her is so weird but SO GOOD

⎯→ user 03: literally thought this was an entirely different girl

→ user 03: i'm putting u in my heart locket

⎯→ user 04: literally going to print this out onto my wall

→ user 05: pepe is so so SO FUCKING lucky

→ pepemartiofficial: my beautiful girl 😘

Although you were much more shy and reserved than others, seeing you do this shoot made him feel so proud of you. Every photo was stared at by him for hours, just loving every detail that makes you you. He can’t help but feel so lucky to have such a beautiful girl but see your confidence grow.

So now he’s fucking you gently, dick pushing against your stomach from how long he is. His head is in your neck while his hands are holding yours. Each thrust is slow and patient, making you feel each centimeter of him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he groans into your neck. “So so, proud” he barely mumbles that. Feeling the strong urge to cum.

Although fucking with him was gentle this time, you still came. He always made sure you were placed first. So now he’s basically just overstimulating you, going at an agonizing slow pace to just fuck with you.

“T-Than’ you.” You say to him, wanting to grab his hair or back. But you can’t, since you’re pinned down by his own hands that are interlocked with yours.

“Gonna cum,” he groans again into your neck also pathetically “Inside?” He begs “That’s okay right??”

[wheelscomedyandmore]

You Might Not Ever Guess

Captain Kangaroo passed away on January 23, 2004 as age 76 , which is odd, because he always looked to be 76. (DOB: 6/27/27 ) His death reminded me of the following story.

Some people have been a bit offended that the actor, Lee Marvin, is buried in a grave alongside 3 and 4 star generals at Arlington National Cemetery . His marker gives his name, rank (PVT) and service (USMC). Nothing else. Here's a guy who was only a famous movie star who served his time, why the heck does he rate burial with these guys? Well, following is the amazing answer:

I always liked Lee Marvin, but didn't know the extent of his Corps experiences.

In a time when many Hollywood stars served their country in the armed forces often in rear echelon posts where they were carefully protected, only to be trotted out to perform for the cameras in war bond promotions.

Lee Marvin was a genuine hero. He won the Navy Cross at Iwo Jima. There is only one higher Naval award... the Medal Of Honor

If that is a surprising comment on the true character of the man, he credits his sergeant with an even greater show of bravery.

Dialog from "The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson": His guest was Lee Marvin Johnny said, "Lee, I'll bet a lot of people are unaware that you were a Marine in the initial landing at Iwo Jima ..and that during the course of that action you earned the Navy Cross and were severely wounded."

"Yeah, yeah... I got shot square in the bottom and they gave me the Cross for securing a hot spot about halfway up Suribachi. Bad thing about getting shot up on a mountain is guys getting' shot hauling you down. But Johnny, at Iwo I served under the bravest man I ever knew... We both got the cross the same day, but what he did for his Cross made mine look cheap in comparison. That dumb guy actually stood up on Red beach and directed his troops to move forward and get the hell off the beach. Bullets flying by, with mortar rounds landing everywhere and he stood there as the main target of gunfire so that he could get his men to safety. He did this on more than one occasion because his men's safety was more important than his own life.

That Sergeant and I have been lifelong friends. When they brought me off Suribachi we passed the Sergeant and he lit a smoke and passed it to me, lying on my belly on the litter and said, where'd they get you Lee?' Well Bob.. if you make it home before me, tell Mom to sell the outhouse!"

Johnny, I'm not lying, Sergeant Keeshan was the bravest man I ever knew.

The Sergeant's name is Bob Keeshan. You and the world know him as Captain Kangaroo."

On another note, there was this wimpy little man (who just passed away) on PBS, gentle and quiet. Mr. Rogers is another of those you would least suspect of being anything but what he now portrays to our youth.

But Mr. Rogers was a U.S. Navy Seal, combat-proven in Vietnam with over twenty-five confirmed kills to his name. He wore a long-sleeved sweater on TV, to cover the many tattoos on his forearm and biceps. He was a master in small arms and hand-to-hand combat, able to disarm or kill in a heartbeat.

After the war Mr. Rogers became an ordained Presbyterian minister and therefore a pacifist. Vowing to never harm another human and also dedicating the rest of his life to trying to help lead children on the right path in life. He hid away the tattoos and his past life and won our hearts with his quiet wit and charm.

America's real heroes don't flaunt what they did; they quietly go about their day-to-day lives, doing what they do best. They earned our respect and the freedoms that we all enjoy.

Look around and see if you can find one of those heroes in your midst.

Often, they are the ones you'd least suspect, but would most like to have on your side if anything ever happened.

Take the time to thank anyone that has fought for our freedom. With encouragement they could be the next Captain Kangaroo or Mr. Rogers.

Send this on will you please? Nothing will happen to you if you don't, but it will tell what a "real" HERO is made of.

[marvelstoriesepic]

Small gesture, Big meaning

Pairing: Tfatws!Bucky x Shield!Reader

Summary: Sam and you prepare something for Bucky’s birthday with the little you can scrape together.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Sam roasting a poor muffin; Bucky being in his feels; bickering; subtle mentions of Bucky’s past

Author’s Note: Another little birthday fic because I felt like it. You might notice I'm extremely motivated to write lately. Let’s hope it stays that way. Hope you enjoy! ♡

Masterlist

“You’re putting too much faith in that sad little muffin.”

Sam is leaning against the rickety kitchen counter, arms crossed, watching with open amusement as you carefully place a candle in the center of the slightly misshapen muffin. It’s a little lumpy, a little too golden brown in some places, and has a slightly deflated top, but considering that you made it in a barely functioning oven with only the ingredients that are offered here, it looks pretty decent.

Supplies are scarce in this safe house, and baking has never been your strong suit. After all, as an agent of Shield, you don’t really have time for domestic stuff like that.

“It’s not about the muffin,” you shoot back, a little defensive. You are even a little proud of this thing, but you won’t admit that to Sam. “It’s about the thought,” you claim, adjusting the small happy birthday banner you both scrawled on torn notebook paper.

Sam hums, his smile not leaving. “Oh, the thought is loud and clear. Happy birthday, Bucky. Here’s a barely edible clump of regret.”

You narrow your eyes at his mocking tone. “Oh come on, at least I tried. You just stood there judging my culinary struggles.”

“I think you managed just fine.” His smile is so toothy. His voice so sarcastic.

Your eyes fall back to the muffin with a roll of your eyes. Sure, it looks a little rustic, but there is something satisfying about it. The last time you baked something isn’t even a memory in your mind anymore.

Your usual diet consists of protein bars and whatever passes for coffee in whatever part of the world you’re holed up in. But you made this. For Bucky.

And for something that isn’t a tactical maneuver, a recon plan, or a mission briefing, that feels like a win.

“It’s not bad.”

Sam snorts.

You throw him a glare.

For a moment, the two of you just stand there.

This isn’t just about Bucky’s birthday - it’s about reminding him that he’s seen, that someone gives a damn. That after all the decades of war, loss, and suffering, there is still something worth celebrating. Even if it’s just with Sam and you.

Sam clears his throat, shifting his weight. “He’s gonna act all grumpy about it.”

You take in a breath. “Yeah, I know. But deep down, he’ll like it.”

Sam softens.

You smile and light the candle.

The safe house you are in right now is tucked in some half-forgotten corner of Eastern Europe - somewhere off the grid but not completely abandoned.

The walls are cracked, the wood is old and worn, the air thick with dust, and the supplies minimal at best. It’s one of those places that’s good for disappearing, for catching a breath, and talking about strategy.

You three have been here for two days now.

There are only a few cans of food, stale crackers, instant coffee that tastes burned. The stove barely works just like the oven, the fridge hums as if it’s dying, and the water pressure in the tiny, rust-stained bathroom is a joke. But it’s shelter, and honestly even quite cozy, and that’s enough.

The situation with Karli and the flag smashers is getting tense. You are trying to track her movements, trying to predict her next move after the GRC camp attack in Latvia.

Bucky left a few hours ago, going after a lead - an arms deal happening at a dockside warehouse a few miles out. Maybe it’s nothing, maybe it’s something, maybe another piece of the super soldier serum still floating around in the wrong hands.

You didn’t want him to go alone and tried to make a case for joining him, but Bucky just gave you that look. The one that said he isn’t going to risk anyone else. The one that said he is used to doing things on his own, whether he likes it or not. And with Sam needing to check in with some of his own contacts, that left you here, holding things down.

So you let him go, but still checked your comms every now and then, waiting for the static to break with his voice.

He should be back soon.

Bucky has not said a thing about it being his birthday.

Not today, not yesterday, not in any of the days leading up to it.

Not that this surprised you. You expected it, honestly.

To him, a birthday does not seem to be a marker of another year lived, but rather just another date on a calendar that is too far ahead of him. Another reminder of all the years he wasn’t really there. Not as himself.

He was his usual brooding self. Still and watchful, sitting on the couch in the corner, hands clasped loosely, tapping his metal fingers against his knee in that absent way he does when his thoughts take him somewhere else.

The only real indication that he even knew his birthday was approaching was the way he got quieter. Bucky is never particularly loud to begin with. But there was a shift, a deepening of whatever burden he carried around.

You caught him staring out the window yesterday, waiting for the sky to darken, for the day to pass by unnoticed, slipping through the cracks like so many others before.

So you didn’t bring it up. Neither did Sam.

You just started planning.

Because if Bucky wasn’t going to acknowledge it, you would.

Maybe not with something big, because he wouldn’t want that, but something. Something only for you. Only for the people closest to him currently. A reminder, even if he didn’t ask for one.

Because birthdays might not matter to Bucky.

But Bucky matters to you.

The door swings open with a push that is firm but not rushed, the kind of movement that says he’s been through a thousand doors just like it, in places just like this, and expects nothing on the other side but the same four walls he left behind.

You straighten. So does Sam.

A gust of cold air follows him in, causing the candle in the muffin to flicker slightly.

Bucky steps inside, his boots scuffing against the worn floorboards, the leather of his jacket creaking faintly as he shifts, pushing the door shut behind him.

You don’t think you’re even breathing as you watch him roll his shoulders like he’s shaking off the weight of the night - like if he just moves right, he can shrug off the things he doesn’t want to carry.

“It was nothing,” he says, his voice rough, sandpapered. He is already pulling off his gloves, shoving them into his pocket. “Just a few guys moving crates. Looked like standard weapons, no serum, no Flag Smasher insignias. Could’ve been anyone.”

His tone is gruff, dismissive. Almost a little bored.

“Didn’t stick around long,” he continues, metal fingers curling at his sides. “They spotted me. One guy ran, but the rest didn’t put up much of a-”

And then he looks up.

And stops.

His shoulders tense mid-shift, his mouth still half open from words that don’t make it out. His eyes tell the whole story.

They dart from you to Sam to the muffin in your hands, the candle still burning, wax beginning to pool unevenly at the base. Then to the tiny, hand-scrawled banner you quickly shoved into Sam’s fingers to hold up.

Bucky doesn’t move.

For a long second, he just stares. Not in the way he does when he’s sizing up a threat, when he’s tracking movement in a crowded room, when he’s calculating distance and angles and exits. This is different.

His expression isn’t blank, but it’s unreadable in a way that makes you shift from one foot to the other. He doesn’t seem to know what to do with what he is seeing.

“Happy birthday, Bucky.”

The words come out light, but there is something heavy in them, and you feel that your voice is a little hesitant.

Gripping the muffin a little tighter, you suddenly feel self-conscious about how small this gesture is, how little you were able to put together. It felt like enough before. Like something meaningful. But his silence is making you uneasy.

“Happy birthday, man,” Sam echoes, voice sincere.

Bucky blinks several times, needing to catch up. His features, softened in surprise, start to pull back together, a slow crease forming between his brows. His jaw tightens, lips are still parted slightly before he presses them together, as if cutting off whatever response had almost slipped out.

His eyes continue sweeping around, from the muffin, up to you, to Sam, to the imperfect banner. Something swims beneath the blue of his eyes.

“What is this?” His voice is hoarse, like the words catch somewhere on their way out.

Like he doesn’t already know. Like he can’t believe it.

He shifts his weight, arms hanging stiffly at his sides, metal fingers flexing just slightly, one of those little tells you picked up during your time working together.

He is off balance, caught without an escape route, with no blueprints for this kind of thing. A man who has walked through fire and war and every shade of hell, and yet, somehow, this little gesture, is what catches him completely off guard.

There is something vulnerable in the way he looks at you both, something unguarded in the way his throat works around nothing, as if searching for a response but keeps coming up empty.

Because this is not something he can punch his way through or bury beneath sarcasm and brooding.

It’s just a candle and a muffin and a banner and two people standing in front of him, remembering what day it is.

And maybe that’s what gets him the most.

Bucky doesn’t look away.

He has always been one to simply stare at things, but this is getting intense.

As if the whole concept of this - of being given something without having to earn it through blood or survival - is too distant to reach for.

“Damn, man,” Sam drawls, arms crossing over his chest again. “Are you getting so old now that you forgot what a birthday is?”

You don’t know if you want to punch the man beside you in the gut with every ounce of strength you’ve got or grab his stupid face and kiss him like the world is ending. Maybe both. Probably both.

Because the bastard knows exactly what he is doing. Knows how to crack open a moment before it can become too heavy, how to make things easier for Bucky without making a big deal out of it.

And it kind of seems to work.

Bucky’s expression changes in the way his brows furrow deeper. His mouth twitches - almost a frown, almost a smile, almost something in between. Then he exhales sharply, breath hitching before rushing past his lips a little unevenly. It’s a scoff, but it’s weak, like he can’t quite summon the energy to be properly annoyed.

His eyes fall to Sam, sharp but lacking real bite. “Shut up.”

But there is no edge.

No venom. Like if he weren’t so caught off guard, if he had a little more time to settle into this strange, unfamiliar warmth creeping into the edges of the room, he might have actually had something to fire back.

He shakes his head slightly, as if trying to dismiss the moment before it can sink in too deep, before it can reach whatever part of him has spent too long convincing itself that things like that aren’t for him.

His gaze drops again to the candle. The wax drips lower, the flame wavers.

Then his eyes sweep over the lettering of the banner in Sam’s hand, reading your handwriting carefully, over and over and over again.

You offer a warm smile and hold out the muffin toward him, tilting it slightly in invitation. The candle’s flame flickers with the movement.

“You gotta blow out the candle, Bucky.”

He glances at you then, one brow arching in that familiar, dry skepticism, like he is debating whether or not to argue the point. But he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t argue, only exhales another breath that is just a little shaky.

He steps toward you, slowly, as if closing the space between you and the candle is something to be made precisely, something to be considered.

Up close, the cut of his jaw is a little tighter, the blue of his eyes shadowed but not distant. His hands flex at his sides. Maybe a part of him still expects this to be something else, something with a catch, something not meant for him.

But you keep smiling, keep waiting, Sam keeps watching and after the briefest hesitation, Bucky leans in, breath ghosting warm against the tiny flame, and blows it out.

It snuffs with a quiet puff of smoke, curling into nothing.

Sam claps his hands together once, a low, easy sound that fills the space. “There you go, old man.”

You smile, a little brighter now, something in your chest disentangling at the sight of Bucky standing there, watching the smoke, looking slightly lost, but no longer frozen.

“Did you make a wish?” you ask lightly.

Bucky huffs out a breath. It might be a laugh but it is a little unsteady.

“Sure, doll.”

There is something in the way he says it. Something softer than usual, something a little worn at the edges but genuine.

As though, just maybe, he did not even have to make a wish. Because it already came true.

The candle’s tiny smoke disappears, leaving behind only the muffin - a little too brown, a little too lopsided, but warm in your hands.

Bucky stares at it, his expression unreadable in that way only he can manage, like he is feeling something too big to let show.

Sam sighs dramatically, eyes also trained on whatever you created there.

“Man,” he mutters, shaking his head, “it looked sad before, but with the candle out it looks even sadder. Like a single, abandoned biscuit in the middle of a war zone.”

You gasp, scandalized, turning to him. “Excuse me? This is a perfectly respectable muffin.”

Sam gives you a look, then gestures vaguely toward it. “That thing looks like it’s been through some things - like it’s seen battle, lost some good men, and barely made it home.”

You clutch the muffin closer to your chest. “I will not stand here and let you disrespect my baking skills in such a way.”

“What baking skills, huh?” Sam fires back, smirking. “You found a pre-mixed bag of something that might’ve been flour and might’ve been plaster, mixed it with a prayer, and threw it in the oven. I'm just saying, if that thing had legs, it would’ve walked away out of self-preservation.”

You open your mouth, ready to retort with the sharpest, most brutal comeback you can think of, but Bucky beats you to it.

“It looks nice.”

His voice is quiet but firm, stopping your bickering.

Sam and you both turn to look at him.

Bucky hasn’t taken his eyes off the muffin. His hands are still loose at his sides, his stance still slightly hesitant. But his expression is softened.

You don’t bother to hide your triumph as you turn back to Sam. “See? Barnes thinks it looks nice.”

Sam rolls his eyes, muttering something under his breath about low standards and winter soldier pity points, but you don’t care.

Because Bucky - who didn’t mention his birthday, who never expects anything from anyone, who looks so lost in thought standing there in the poorly lighted safe house - thinks it looks nice.

And that’s more than enough.

You watch Bucky’s brow furrow slightly into something weighty, as if realizing only now, that you actually made this yourself.

His eyes shift to the uneven edges of the banner Sam is holding, to the way the lettering wobbles just slightly, as though you had to redo it a few times before settling on something half-decent.

Then his eyes move back to the muffin that has been made by hand - your hand - mixed together with the scraps you could find in the barebones safe house, baked in a temperamental oven that probably isn’t even meant for cooking anymore.

For him.

You made all this just for him.

His throat moves as he swallows hard, his lips parting slightly as if wanting to voice out something, but nothing comes up. His chest rises and falls, slower than before, as if he is trying to steady himself.

His jaw tightens just a fraction, but it doesn’t harden. It softens again slowly, and when he finally looks back up, there is something there you don’t think you have ever seen before.

A sheen over his eyes, so faint it might go unnoticed if you weren’t looking right back at him. If you weren’t watching him take this in, piece by piece, trying to figure out what to do with it.

He looks so touched.

So utterly affected by your gesture.

He spent so many of his birthdays forgotten, as someone wielded by metal and orders, to now come back to his temporary home, to his temporary family, who remembered long enough to plan a little something for him.

You don’t need to say anything.

You just glance at Sam, and he glances at you. He nods subtly, giving you a meaningful smile.

Because this matters.

Bucky releases a breath from deep within. It comes out slow, an attempt at trying to get his overwhelming emotions out, but it doesn’t seem to have worked that well.

His gaze drops for just a second, as though he needs to compose himself, before he looks back at you with something so gentle and exposed in his expression that it nearly makes you squeeze the fragile muffin in your hand to death.

This isn’t much. Just a tiny celebration in some run-down house out in nowhere.

But to him, it seems to be everything.

“After seeking to understand, it’s not the size of the action that counts. It’s the relevancy and impact of our action that makes the difference.”

- Heather R Younger

[viharbinger]

💍 Romance And Weddings (Fred Weasley x fem!reader)

Pairings: Fred Weasley x Wife!Reader (I'm fuckign tweaking)

Warnings: Fred not dead 🤫🥰, pregnancy, marriage, reader is female, usage of pet names (love and darling), this is set shortly after the second wizarding war

a/n: I have exams tomorrow and I'm writing Fred Weasley x wife reader fic??? I think I need the mental hospital

You and Fred started dating in your first year of Hogwarts. It was a small parchment of paper passed to you, asking, 'do you want to be my girlfriend? Circle yes or no' I mean you both were eleven, without a worry in the world and there wasn't any harm in dating. And when the school years went by, it seems like it wasn't just a silly childhood crush after all because you've both become accustomed to calling each other your boyfriend and girlfriend and hanging out together everywhere.

You've had your awkward first kiss, reluctant hand holding, and even broken up a couple of times during your time in Hogwarts. But what surprised you the most is why you said yes to his marriage proposal! I mean, it's common knowledge that most highschool relationships just don't work out. But now, you have officially been dating for a little over 6 or more years, if you don't count the times you've broken up over silly arguments— you've even moved in with him and George!

Even when you were dating, Fred would always teasingly flirt with you, it had you turning red all the time. And you'd also do it back at him, making him turn equally red. Soon enough, those awkward first kisses became natural and a daily occurrence for the both of you and you got more comfortable with each other.

So it was just a little after Fred and George had opened up their shop and the Wizarding community was starting to divide into two sides. Business was booming, Fred and George were making more than enough galleons to fit into their pockets and were looking to treat themselves.

They've bought themselves the dragon-skin suits, gifted their family presents and started living comfortably. But Fred had a thought. You've both dated basically throughout your most important years— and been with him the whole time! He wants to treat you to something but what he didn't think he would get was an engagement ring.

He just happened to come by a jewellery store when he saw it... A ring that would look so beautiful if it sat on your finger. He bought it without a second thought but decided not to propose just then, because you never know, right?

He kept the ring in his jacket pocket at all times, and even made sure you never washed the jacket yourself to prevent you from accidentally seeing it. He was gonna keep it for a momentous occasion, and... Maybe the momentous occasion was when you and Fred were in the middle of a fight against Death Eaters in Hogwarts.

"I'm sorry I couldn't do this earlier, love!" He shouts through all the noise happening in the school. "You're an idiot!" You snapped, hitting one final blow to a death eater, and then clutching Fred's arm to pull him away to safety, your finger glistening with the ring he just proposed.

"You couldn't have done this in a worser time?" You breathed, quickly blocking an attack at another Death Eater, and Fred fires at him. Teamwork makes the dreamwork. "Yeah, but you said yes, didn't you?" He laughs amidst the battle, now pulling you to where the rest of the survivors are also fighting.

When the fight was finally over, you were cuddled up against him with your head on his shoulder sitting on one of the dining chairs in the great hall. You finally had the time to admire the ring on your finger, and this action doesn't go unnoticed by Fred. "Once we're out of here, I promise I'll give you the best life possible. Anything for my darling wife." He cheekily grins, caressing the hand that you held up to look at.

"You're crazy, you know that?" You blush, hiding your face in his neck. And the news doesn't go unheard in less than a week. He's sent owls to his family, yours, friends and acquaintances all about your engagement and that a wedding date is to be announced.

"Fred, where are all these owls coming from?" The replies came around the same time, and he was just smiling cheekily. He pressed a long affectionate kiss to your temple as you opened the letters with furrowed eyebrows. "You told... Everyone? Already?!"

Every week without marrying you keeps Fred so antsy to marry you, it's adorable. Before he's even married you, he's already calling you 'Mrs. Weasley' or referred you as his wife in every conversation. When you're shopping with him too, he's insufferable. He's constantly making suggestions for the wedding, "I think this napkin would look nice on the guest tables, what's say you?" or "That dress would look lovely on you for the reception, love. Just suggesting."

And the first week back to the Burrow after your engagement was celebratory. Molly was ecstatic and welcomes you into her family warmly, not like you weren't ever part of it.

Finally came to the wedding, it would be big with a lot of friends and families. Being one of the Weasley twins, there would be fireworks setting off after your I do's and it would just be magical. Seeing you walk down the aisle for the first time, his eyes would burn trying to hold his tears. He thinks you're so beautiful, he couldn't help speaking it out loud, earning some laughter from the audience.

During the wedding reception, he couldn't help stare at you everytime, either. He also gets so drunk off of firewhiskey with his family, he starts calling for you if you leave him for longer than 3 minutes. He'd slur your name, and be so tired he would just lay his head on your shoulder for a short nap, ruining your perfect outfit with his drool.

And not even a few months had passed since your wedding when you find out you're pregnant with Fred's baby. Not surprising of course, being a wife of a Weasley basically meant you're gonna have a broody husband. You had no fear in telling him, because it was his idea after all. Well, he'd try to pretend it's your idea by planting it in your head.

He'd purposefully take care of Teddy Lupin to show how much of a good father he would be in front of you. Or he'd somehow shift the conversation to be about how he loves how cute babies are. "I know what you're playing at, Freddie." You jab a finger at his chest, and he catches it the second jab and presses a kiss to your hand. "Don't know what you're talking about, love."

When you finally agreed to the idea of getting pregnant, he literally wasted no time. He's already running his hands all over your body, kissing you breathlessly and pulling you to the bed... And the rest is history. But the first baby is just a start, he says. Like I said, he's broody and even jokes about wanting to have a 'full quidditch team' which you swat him for.

<3 pleaz reblog and like

[halbarryislife]

I just graduated college and took my capstone on propaganda. Not the just the history of it but also its evolution, how it works, and what makes the best propaganda.

With the ‘unbanning’ of tiktok and the inauguration being within a day of each other a lot of propaganda has been thrown at us. I want to share what is called “the ten rules of hate” from Matt Taibbi’s book “Hate: Inc: why today’s media makes us despise one another”, which was published in 2019.

To give some context for the ten rules, Taibbi says in this chapter (chapter two) regarding the news cycle, "after generations of doing the opposite, when unity and conformity were more profitable, now the primary product the news media sells is division."

But before I state the rules I just want to remind everyone PROPAGANDA OCCURS ON BOTH SIDES. Neither side is better than one another when it comes to propaganda, it is a necessity. I say this as a democrat who believes the next four years are going to be hell. Just today I saw propaganda from both sides, ironically fitting into these ten points.

THE TEN RULES OF HATE:

There are only two sides

The two sides are in permanent conflict

Hate people, not institutions

Everything is somebody else's fault

Nothing is everyone's faults

Root, don't think

No switching teams

The other side is literally Hitler

In the fight against Hitler, everything is permitted

Feel superior

What most people get wrong about propaganda is that its intention is not change your thought process immediately, no. The purpose of propaganda is to nudge you in a certain direction. Whether that be you seeing that trump unbanned tiktok and for a split moment you think 'maybe he isn't so bad' or seeing an instagram post from Path2Progress saying 'it's a dark day in America' and you get a tinge of fear.

I am making this post because I want you to be able to look at the media you are soaking up and be able to notice that people are trying to manipulate you. Of course, there are other points to propaganda that I did not get in here as I could write several papers on this subject, which I have.

And before anyone says in the comments, "but Trump is literally Hitler", I'm just going to point out that this cycle of calling people Hitler started long before Trump's presidency in 2016. Glenn Beck, who's a conservative commentator really began the "Your neighbor is literally Hitler" movement. In Taibbi's book he writes, "Beck was awesome at this. Al Gore was Hitler. Obama was constantly Hitler." I know must Democrats would not consider these men to be Hitler, but I use this example to demonstrate its use in years past on the other party.

I am going to leave you with a quote from one of the first books written about modern propaganda. It's called "Propaganda Techniques in the World War" and was written by Harold Laswell, then published in 1927.

“But by far the most potent role of propaganda is to mobilize the animosity of the community against the enemy, to maintain friendly relations with neutrals and allies, to arouse the neutrals against the enemy, and to break up the solid wall of the enemy.”

[unsolicited-opinions]

Someone asked me why I care about Israel at all.

I thought about it for a bit because I realized I wasn't quite sure.

I knew it wasn't simple tribalism. Maybe it's my neurodivergence, but tribalism doesn't speak to me. I've never really experienced tribal solidarity.

It's not because 80% of Israelis are my co-religionists, because I'm not religious and neither are a lot of Israeli Jews.

It's not because I have a lot of friends and loved ones in Israel because I only know a handful of Israelis.

It's not because I ever plan to make aliyah. I'm way too old to consider it now.

It's not because I admire the extraordinary things Israelis have accomplished, although I do admire that. Lots of countries have accomplished extraordinary things.

It sure isn't because of Israel's government, which I've spent a great deal of time feeling angry at for the last couple decades.

So...why? Why does it matter to me so much?

When I realized the answer, it came all at once in sort of a rush of images and reasoning.

Both sides of my family came to the US around the early 20th century. Like everyone else arriving in the US from Eastern and Central Europe, they emigrated looking for economic opportunity and safety. They were lucky, because they found it.

They (we) were lucky. They got to the US before the US closed its doors to Jews fleeing Europe.

Imagine they hadn't left Europe when they did.

Imagine they'd stayed in the shtetls in the pale of settlement.

If they had, the odds are that none of my family would be alive today.

I know this because we don't have any relatives we know of who survived the Holocaust in Europe. The only family we know of are those who came to the US before the US shut its doors to Jews fleeing Europe. The shtetls we came from now only exist as a handful of records in the Knesset library.

But imagine some of my family members managed to survive the Holocaust and were among those in the displaced persons camps after the second World War. Homeless. Stateless. Penniless.

Know where they and their descendents would be now?

Israel.

Israel is the best possible future that any of my relatives who didn't make it out of Europe in time could have hoped for, and none of them made it there. But a handful of their contemporaries did.

I keep thinking about the way Israel's enemies imagine a cabal of rich Jews plotting to steal from the Arabs of the Levant. I wonder what it would take to get them to understand that nobody went to Israel after WWII because it was incredibly appealing to them for economic opportunity or safety. They went because it's all there was.

Jewish Israelis can accurately be described as all which the remains of the Jewish civilizations of Europe and of the MENA region and a handful of other locations. They're in Israel because there was no other place to go.

To be an antizionist is to rage at them for not dying.

To be an antizionist is to fault them for surviving the genocides and ethnic cleansings and building something extraordinary. For enacting the most successful indigenous reclamation from colonialism in human history.

It's a stupid thing to hate a people for.

And I know, thanks to the genetic bottlenecks of the Jews of central and eastern Europe, that some of them are my distant cousins.

They are what remains of my family which didn't leave Europe in time to avoid being murdered for who they were.

That's why I care about Israelis. If my family had been slightly less fortunate, we either be dead...or we'd be Israelis.

And that's why nothing seems to make me more angry than Jewish antizionists.

Am Yisrael Chai.

[witherby]

Thinking naughty Brucie Wayne thoughts cause you KNOW he sluts around in order to maintain that playboy reputation.

Imagining Brucie on an evening gossip show and he's playing a game where he's sharing light-hearted secrets with the host. It's called some shit like...I dunno, "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours!"

"Okay, we gotta be careful with the wording here because we're on live television," the host laughs, "but I have a question."

"Ask me anything, baby, I'm an open book," Bruce purrs. The live studio audience whistles and cheers.

"What's your darkest sexual fantasy? I'll tell you mine —"

"IF YOU TELL ME YOURS!!" The audience shouts, clapping and cheering with ridiculous enthusiasm. Bruce, who has impeccable control over his body's nervous system, turns beet red and covers his face. His heartbeat is still as steady as a war drum. World's Greatest Detective and also World's Best motherfuckin Actor.

"oh shit," he mutters. The cheering gets even louder. "I can't say it out loud. I've never told anybody this before, it's insane."

The host is Locked The Fuck In. Exclusive information nobody else has about Brucie Wayne, Gotham's precious prince? He can smell the trending hashtags already.

"Oh?" He goads, grinning and leaning forward in his chair. "Is it really bad? Brucie, you dog! I didn't know you had it in you! We gotta know, now!"

"Skip," Bruce says shyly, "next question!"

The audience boos and starts chanting some iteration of "tell us! Tell us!" The host shushes them and says it's fine, he'll go first and they'll both be a little embarrassed about it. No big deal, it's just a fun game! What's a little spicy secret between friends, we're all friends here, it's fine!

The host's is boring. Something like Toes or edible underwear. Bruce shyly says he can't say it, and asks if he can write it down instead. The host is like yes, absolutely, someone fetch this man a pen and paper RIGHT NOW.

Brucie writes it down. The host reads it. He gasps.

"Okay everybody, shhh. This says...I want to — BRUCE?"

Bruce reddens more and is as curled up as he can possibly get in his big chair. The audience is feral at this point.

"It says "I want a priest to give his virginity to me." Bruce Thomas Wayne!!!"

There's an uproar. People are whistling. Women are screaming. Catholics are clutching their pearls. There's so much clapping. Some people are laughing. When everybody settles down enough to let him explain, Bruce, still red in the face, just stares meekly at the ground and mutters:

"I dunno, it's so wicked. I wanna be like Lucifer with the apple. I want a son of God to turn away from His light and be tempted into my bed. If God is actually homophobic and being gay gets you sent to Hell, — first of all, fuck that guy — and second of all, at the very least I want him to get a taste of Heaven in the sheets, y'know?"

#DamnedByBrucie is the number one trending topic for the next four days. Priests are coming out of the woodwork and sending him genuine offers to take their virginity. Hal buys a priest outfit immediately. Bruce is so down to roleplay this even though that wasn't even close to his darkest sexual fantasy.

[eva-does-their-best]

Going from "I'm not one of those trans people who do x or y" to "I am so one of those and I should have not judged them and I am glad that I got rid of the normative judgemental attitude I used to have".

Going from "I'm just a lesbian so liking trans men is wrong i don't want to deny their manhood" to "My sexuality is weird and that is fine, I like who I like despite the theoretical implications of it and I am not denying anyone's identity because I like them for who they are and respect them no matter what".

Going from "I'm just a regular binary she/her woman" to "I'm a girl and a woman but my dissociation and life experiences also make me feel impersonal so I can use it/its and I'm not weird for it, i wouldn't even be weird if I had no justification either, I can even use doll pronouns because I like them and they make me feel warm and happy and that is what matters".

Going from "Ok so these are all the labels with their very clear definitions and meanings and everything else is internet quirky stuff" to "I literally would not know how to explain what you are and I won't force you to explain it if you don't want, I don't need to understand it to accept you, you are valid and loved. If you instead want to explain it to me I'll do my best to learn and defend it whenever I can".

Going from "I am so sad, frustrated, angry and in pain because I will never be or look cis" to "I actually don't like the cis normative look, I don't want to cispass, I like trans beauty but specifically I like me beauty, the one where I am still myself but a more me version of myself. The world constantly told me what I should aspire to be and look like and like and I was brainwashed for so long but now I've broken free and am free to fully love myself and everyone else in this world who ever thought they were weird or ugly because my eyes find so much beauty in everything and everyone!"

Going from "Ew furries" to "I don't want to make fun of people who deviate from the norm because that is exactly what happens to me and we should all be together or else we are treating ourselves as exceptions and exceptions are easily revoked, I will learn to love everyone against a brain poisoned with conservativism and "normality". I like rats I should make a rat fursona or smth it would be so cute it'd so represent me :3".

Going from "I am useless, lazy, falling behind, a disappointment" to "I am physically and mentally disabled, there have never been accomodations for me in any aspect of my life and the intersectionalities of gender, sexuality, economical situation, etc. have made my life extremely difficult, I forgive myself for both failing and for blaming myself, I will seek help and advocate for myself to the best of my abilities and I will respect my limits in this world that was not made for people like me".

Learning is hard, changing is scary, but it's mostly just your brain being a conservative for the sake of commodity, safety and self-preservation, sometimes you need to fight your brain in a war of attrition but when you finally win you'll be so much happier.

I am so much happier now, my world is bigger and brighter and I see everyone and everything with a new, beautiful light. I look back on how I was and how I thought and how the world works and it all looks so much worse and grey, I am not going back there, this new mind is my home now.

And the best part is that I know I will keep learning more and changing more and the world and this life will keep getting better and better🥰.

[st3f13ily]

☛ Infinity Between Us (Masterlist)

The story of Gojo Satoru meeting you from past to future, beginning till end. The story of both of your life together.

Reader CT

Just so you know, I haven't done much yet, this list is for me to know what I should do next.

I might post some of them not according to the order I put. (idk if you understand that) For example, I might post one of the stories at the adult arc first than the teenage arc.

(Teenage arc || 2006 || Before the mission)

Click, Snap, Capture, Confessed

> In Where You Found a Camera on the Desk.

Sealed Knowledge

> In where a new student transfers to Tokyo Jujutsu High.

Jealousy?? Yeah, Right

> Operation: The art of (not) making you jealous!

Jealousy Tastes like Blue

> What's the perfect Revenge that affects him??

First Date... Kind of?

> Gojo drags you out for a 'mission'

(More coming)

( Teenage Arc || After the Toji incident || Relationship )

Confession under the star

> Gojo finally admits his feelings during a late-night rooftop talk, but he makes it a joke first—because he’s nervous.

A promise we couldn't keep

> After Geto leaves, he comes to you.

Will you be mine?

> You finally accept him to be yours.

Domestic life with the strongest

> You and Satoru shared an apartment, and it's a mix of chaos, laughter, and stolen kisses.

Matching sunglasses and dumb Dates

> Gojo drags you out on ridiculous dates, making you wear matching sunglasses just to embarrass you.

I'm always coming home with you

> Despite the dangers of his job, Gojo promises to always return to you.

Your the only who sees me

> Everyone treats Gojo as the strongest, but with you, he can just be Satoru.

Drunk Proposal

> Everything was good until you showed up late, and found a drunk Gojo Satoru.

Between Duty and Love

> Gojo is forced to choose between his responsibilities and your relationship, and it’s tearing him apart.

( Adult Arc || Years Later || Marriage )

Wedding Planning… with Gojo

> Planning a wedding with the world’s most chaotic sorcerer is a nightmare. He insists on a sky-blue theme to match his eyes.

Cold Feet? Nah, I Just Miss You

>The night before the wedding, Gojo sneaks into your room because "sleeping without you feels weird."

The Wedding of the Century

> Your wedding is grand, chaotic, and full of love. Gojo can’t stop grinning, and when you walk down the aisle, he actually goes speechless.

Honeymoon Love

> He planned the best honeymoon!! Except something goes not according to plan.

Waking Up as Mrs. Gojo

> Your first morning as newlyweds, where Gojo refuses to let you get out of bed. "We’re married now, you’re stuck with me forever."

Gojo vs. House Chores

> Married life means Gojo attempting chores, only to make things worse. He declares war on laundry but loses.

Cooking with Gojo

> After that laundry accident, he decided to surprise you by cooking you dinner.

Cuddle Monster

> Gojo’s clinginess increases by 1000% after marriage. He constantly invades your personal space, even while you work.

Surprise Date Night

> Gojo randomly kidnaps you for a spontaneous, over-the-top date. "Marriage shouldn’t be boring, Mochi!"

Jealous? Me? No Way

> Even as a husband, Gojo gets jealous when someone flirts with you, but he plays it off—until he drags you away with a smirk.

Arguments and Apologies

> Your first real fight as a married couple, where Gojo sulks like a child but makes it up to you in the sweetest way.

Sick Days with Gojo

> When you catch a cold, Gojo dramatically declares himself your personal nurse. Spoiler: he’s bad at it, but he tries.

Are you better?

> Gojo needs you.

The Moment He Finds Out

> You tell Gojo the news, even though he already knows, he still tries to hide it and act surprise.

( Adult Arc || Pregnancy )

Gojo’s Overprotective Mode: Activated

> Once he knows you’re pregnant, Gojo refuses to let you lift a single thing, constantly fussing over you.

Talking to the Baby Bump

> Gojo whispers nonsense to your belly, telling the baby how cool their dad is (and how much he loves you both).

Baby Shower and a piece of Shocking news!!

> Where you both decided to do a baby shower.

I Can’t Believe We Made This

> One night, Gojo watches you sleep with his hand on your belly, overwhelmed with love and disbelief.

Shopping for the Baby

> Gojo insists on buying baby sunglasses and a tiny blindfold "for training purposes."

Our Little Family

> As he feels the baby kick for the first time, Gojo realizes that despite everything, this is his happiest moment ever.

I’m Gonna Be a Dad

> Gojo goes around telling everyone, from Nanami to strangers on the street, that he's going to be a dad.

Late-Night Talks About the Future

> One night, Gojo holds you close, whispering all his dreams for your child, his excitement, and his fears.

Cravings & Midnight Runs

> Gojo wakes up at 3 AM to you craving something ridiculous. He teleports across the country just to get it.

Mood Swings & Emotional Gojo

> Pregnancy hormones hit hard, and Gojo struggles when you cry over the smallest things. He panics every time, trying to fix it.

Hearing the Heartbeat

> At the first ultrasound, Gojo actually tears up hearing your baby’s heartbeat. He doesn’t let go of your hand the entire time.

The First Kick

> When he finally feels the baby kick, Gojo freezes, eyes wide, before breaking into the biggest grin. He brags about it for weeks.

Dancing in the Living Room

> One quiet evening, Gojo sways with you, hands on your belly, humming a song and whispering how much he loves you.

Doubt & Reassurance

> One night, Gojo confesses his fear of not being a good father. You remind him that he’s already the best husband, and he’ll be the best dad too.

A week before birth

False Alarm!

> You have a Braxton Hicks contraction, and Gojo freaks out, teleporting you to Shoko in full panic mode.

Can We Name Them After Me?

> Gojo jokingly suggests names like "Satoru Jr." and "Satoru II." You refuse. The debate continues for the whole day.

The birth

10:47 pm - Your water breaks, and Gojo loses it, teleporting you to the hospital in a full-blown panic.

12:34 am - During labour, Gojo stays by your side, holding your hand and whispering encouragement even though you threaten to break his fingers.

2:14 am - The moment Gojo holds your child for the first time, his usual goofy self disappears, replaced by pure, unfiltered love.

2:59 am - Gojo watches you cradle your baby, whispering, "We did it. We made something so perfect."

( Adult Arc || Family || Kids )

Double the trouble, Double the love

> Finding out you’re having twins was a shock, but Gojo? He celebrated like he won the lottery. "Two babies? That means two times the awesomeness!"

Dad Mode Active

> Gojo swears he’ll be the best dad ever—until he realizes how tiny and fragile newborns are. "WHAT IF I ACCIDENTALLY BREAK THEM?!"

Sleep? What's that?

> Gojo insists he’ll handle nighttime duty… then immediately regrets it when both twins start crying at 3 AM.

First word?

> You and your beloved husband Satoru Gojo have been fighting for weeks for your twins first words.

Mini Sorcerer Training

> Gojo starts training them early, letting them wear tiny blindfolds for fun.

Gojo VS Baby Food

> He insists on feeding the twins himself. It ends with more food on him than in their mouths.

Prank Team

> Your daughter has inherit your husband chaotic energy and starts playing prank on everyone, including you.

Papa’s Biggest Fans

> They follow Gojo everywhere, giggling whenever he lifts them onto his shoulders like tiny royalty.

Overprotective Gojo, But Worse

> The first time the twins get sick, Gojo goes into full panic mode and calls Shoko every five minutes.

First Day of School Meltdown

> Gojo doesn’t want to let them go, hugging them dramatically at the school gate.

Teacher Gojo?!?

> Gojo insists on helping with their homework but just ends up making them laugh with nonsense explanations.

Sports Day, But Make It Over-the-Top

> Gojo teleports across the field to cheer them on, embarrassing your son and you.

Gojo vs. Parenting Styles

> You set rules. Gojo? He lets the twins eat sweets before dinner and calls it "an experiment."

Bedtime Stories by Papa Gojo

> He makes up the most ridiculous bedtime stories, often starring himself as "the strongest and coolest dad."

Father-Daughter Dance & Protective Dad Mode

> Gojo panics when his little girl gets asked to dance by a boy. "You’re too young for this!"

Satoru Little Clones

> Your daughter is super hyper like your husband Satoru, on the other hand, your son is the polar opposite.

Special Late Nights Talks

> The twins sneak out of bed to sit with Gojo, asking questions about the stars, life, and why his eyes are so special.

The Moment He Realizes They’re Growing Up

> Watching his twins walk ahead, Gojo gets hit with the reality that one day, they won’t be little anymore.

Papa’s Always Here

> A quiet, heartfelt moment where Gojo promises his children that no matter what, he will always protect them.

(More to come)

[ynnova]

( CODE NAME : LIP WAR. ) woosan x ninth member!f!reader ✶ poly!ateez

──── you and wooyoung get into a small ' argument ' and san gets pulled into the middle of it. you're using the word argument lightly though.

2024 ୨୧ word count : 3.5k ୨୧ warnings : language, semi-overdramatic yn but wooyoung lowkey matches that, lots of kissing, suggestive, mxm ୨୧ mdni

when you woke up this morning, you weren't exactly surprised by the position you were in. you and wooyoung were entangled together, limbs wrapped around each other and the hotel blankets haphazardly and surprisingly still on the bed.

your head rested on wooyoung's chest while his was somewhat resting on top of yours. you could faintly hear his snores from how close he was. your leg was thrown his own which was also slotted between both of yours.

"yah, look at these two," you hear a voice say, but you haven't fully registered who it was that was talking. you heard a voice let out a low chuckle in response before you felt a hand rub up and down your back. the feeling is what officially drew you out of your sleep. turning your head the best you could, you are greeted with the sight of both hongjoong and seonghwa looking down at the two of you. seonghwa had been the one to run his hand down your back.

pulling away from wooyoung slightly, you attempt (a poor attempt but an attempt no less) to pull seonghwa into bed with you. tugging on his hand and a pout on your lips.

"haha, no baby, you and woo need to get up," he says, using his free hand to brush the mess of hair out of your eyes.

"but, oppa–

"hey, don't pull that card on me," he says, his tone a mixture of teasing and seriousness, but the smile on his face tells he's not being serious in his scolding. "we have a schedule today, baby."

"later?" you ask and seonghwa nods before leaning down and kissing up.

"but you and wooyoung need to get up," he says once more before he's moving away from you. you let out a groan before you're turning back over to look at wooyoung who is still dead to the world. must be nice, you think before pulling away from him and sitting up.

your movement caused wooyoung to let out a groan as he began to stir a little. you place both your hands on his cheeks, squishing them as you move his head back and forth. "wooyoung, wake up," you say, voice a little groggy sounding from having just woken up. you saw his eyebrows furrow, but he still didn't open his eyes. "hey! we have a schedule today! wake! up!" you say, moving his head as you talk.

wooyoung lets out another groan as his hand comes up to your own face to try and push you away. "ugh," you say when one of his fingers smash against your nose, and you let go of his face in order to move away from his hand.

"wooyoung," you say, a little annoyed as you rubbed your nose.

"i'm getting up, give me a minute," he mumbles, eyes now open and looking at you as you get out of bed. you move past hongjoong and seonghwa who were still in your hotel room to go to the bathroom. you close the bathroom door behind you as you start to get ready, you can hear your three boyfriends talking to each other before you hear your hotel door open and close.

when you get out of the bathroom, you see hongjoong helping you straighten up your bed. walking over to him, you press a kiss to his cheek with a small 'thank you' as you go over to your clothes.

that's when you notice wooyoung had left without saying anything.

"where did wooyoung go?" you ask, pulling out the outfit your stylist wanted you to wear.

"he went to go get ready," hongjoong said as he sat in one of the hotel chairs as you began to change. you threw your pajamas on the bed before pulling your clothes on. you couldn't believe wooyoung left without saying anything, or even a kiss!

bastard.

"is the fansign all we have today?" you ask, looking over to your captain who was waiting for you while scrolling on his phone.

"yeah, and then we're free to do whatever," hongjoong says as he stands up and walks over to you just as you pull your shirt over your head. hongjoong leans over to grab the necklace your stylist picked out before helping you put it on.

the two of you share a quick kiss before you go and put the rest of your jewelry in. once you're done, you grab your phone and bag before following hongjoong out of your room and down to where the rest of the members are. still salty about wooyoung.

"you look so pretty, baby," san says as you all are in the dressing room for the fansign. san comes up to you and sits next to you when he notices you by yourself. you had just gotten done with your hair and makeup and wanted to relax before the fansign started.

"thank you, sannie," you say, hand running over one of his broad shoulders before you both lean in and kiss each other.

that was the good thing about the public knowing about you and san – you could kiss and act like a couple in front of non-kq staff without the worry of them exposing anything.

when san pulled away you couldn't help but laugh at how your lip gloss had slightly smudged onto his. san licked his lips, tongue darting out and his eyes widened a little by the taste.

"strawberry? is this a new lip gloss?" he asks and you nod your head.

"miran-unnie bought it for me when we hung out and i'm just now getting to try it," you tell him.

just as san was about to say something, a figure appears in your vision before you suddenly feel a weight on your lap. looking down you see wooyoung laid across both yours and san's lap, his head resting comfortably on your thighs.

"what are you guys talking about?" wooyoung ask looking between you and san.

"y/n was telling me about her new lip gloss," san explains as wooyoung looks up at your face.

"what flavor?"

"strawberry," you answer as san's thumb comes up to gently fix the small smudge that your kiss had caused.

"are you gonna let me taste it later?" wooyoung asks, voice lower than what it was so only you three could hear him. you look down at him, his eyes already watching you – watching your lips. you're still upset that he didn't kiss you this morning, but no.

no kisses for wooyoung right now.

"hm, no~" you say teasingly as you watch wooyoung's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. out of the five years you've been dating, you've never truly outright denied wooyoung of a kiss. the two of you have probably kissed the most out of all nine of you. the two of you just liked kissing each other, nothing more to it.

so you denying wooyoung like this surprised not only him, but san as well. wooyoung then sat up, forcing himself in-between you and san as he looked at you like you grew a second head.

"why?" he asks, still not able to believe you. of course, he and the guys have always respected that if you didn't want to be touched or kissed then they wouldn't. but this is still wooyoung we're talking about, he would respect you but still want to know why.

"because~" you say with a shrug before getting up and moving across the room to where mingi and yunho sat.

mingi greeted you with a smile, wrapping his arm around you and bringing you closer to him.

wooyoung turns to san with a confused look, "what's up with her?" he asks and san can only shrug his shoulders in response.

wooyoung had decided that if you wanted to be a little bratty then so could he. if you didn't want to kiss him, that's fine, but he could tell there was more to this than you not wanting him to taste your lip gloss.

no, there was definitely something that you weren't telling him. he ran through the events of this morning to try and figure out if you were actually mad at him or if you were just being overdramatic. it was the latter but he hasn't figured that out yet.

so wooyoung came to the conclusion that two could play at your game. and during the entire fansign, wooyoung made sure you knew he was there. and unfortunately san had unknowingly been dragged into it as any time you got close or went up to san during the fansign, wooyoung would make sure to come in-between the two of you.

now why did wooyoung drag san into this? well because he knew how attached you and san were to each other. wooyoung never really wanted to admit it, but he knew san was something similar to your first love. the two of you started dating first, you opened up to san a lot more quicker – all of this kind of boiled down to why you even picked to go public with san when the company had told you to pick one. no one was upset that you naturally drew to san, not even wooyoung. on top of all. of that, you probably kissed san the most right after himself.

so if you wouldn't kiss wooyoung, then you wouldn't kiss san either.

so the entire fansign you couldn't once get close to san without wooyoung appearing. he's pretty sure a lot of atiny captured the confusing looks both you and san would give him. and eventually, you stopped trying to go over to san, instead opting to either interact with the other members or the fans.

even after the fansign was over, wooyoung refused to leave you and san alone. you tried your best not to let your frustration towards your boyfriend show, especially since you all were still in front of staff. so you opted to just hang around seonghwa, even when it was finally time to go.

on the way back to the hotel, seonghwa couldn't help but laugh as he noticed the pout on your lips as you rested your head on his shoulder.

"what's wrong, baby?" seonghwa asks, hand coming to give your thigh a squeeze before he lets you play with his hand.

"wooyoung is being a jerk," you said with a dramatic sigh. "first he didn't kiss me before he went back to his room this morning, then he literally wouldn't let me near sannie. like what even, that bastard."

"is that what this is all about? because he didn't kiss you this morning?"

"yes... he always kisses me before he leaves my room. not to mention he also hit my nose and didn't apologize," you grumble.

"goodness, my poor y/nnie, what will i do with you?"

"can you kiss me, please?"

"of course, baby," he says as you both turn to face each other, seonghwa slots his plush lips against yours smiling as he feels how eager you are to kiss him. when he pulls away, his runs his tongue over his lips, "new lip gloss?"

"its strawberry," you say.

"i like it," he says before kissing you again and no doubt smudging your lip gloss, but you don't care. you had no more schedules and couldn't wait to get back to the hotel.

back at the hotel, you had managed to convince seonghwa to come to your room with you. seonghwa had told you he would be in your room after he changed. walking into your hotel room, you quickly got changed before you laid down on your bed, waiting for seonghwa.

you were in the middle of reading your book when a knock sounded on your door. getting up, you walk over to answer it, thinking it was seonghwa, "wow, you changed fast, oppa."

however, you were not greeted by seonghwa, instead san was standing in your doorway, dressed in his usually black shirt and grey sweatpants.

"hi, pretty," he says, and you smile at him before you let him in, closing the door behind him.

"what are you doing?" you ask as you lay back down on your bed with him joining you.

"nothing, i just wanted to see my girl," he says as he pulls you into his arms.

"since wooyoung decided that we couldn't be together," you reply back teasingly, cause san to laugh in return.

"he told me on the way back that he was doing it because he was trying to play your game, whatever that means," he said, "he said that since you were being a brat, then he could also be a brat."

"ugh, whatever, he's the one that didn't kiss me this morning. only far if i didn't do it back," you say back with an annoyed huff.

"all this over a kiss?" san asked, eyebrow raised and he had the same tone as seonghwa did when you told me.

you shrug your shoulders, "you guys spoil me," you say as you sit up to look at san who laughed at your response.

"so its our fault that you expect kisses?"

"that's right, you guys give me too much love," you say, leaning down to kiss him as you feel his hands grab at your hips. your own hands rested on his chest, easily feeling his muscles underneath his shirt. without breaking the kiss, you move to straddle his lap with your hands running up and down his abs before sliding underneath his shirt. san's hands were no better, one running underneath your own shirt while his other one squeezed your ass.

however, before you both could do anymore another knock sounded at your door. you broke the kiss sitting up, "that must be seonghwa-oppa," you say, moving to try and get up to answer the door.

another knock sounds again, this one a little more harshly than the first, "okay, okay i'm coming. calm down!" you say before opening the door. you were once again greeted with someone who wasn't your eldest boyfriend, seriously? where was he? instead it was the boyfriend you were currently "beefing" with.

"finally! about ti–

you close the door in his face before he could finish, well you tried to close it, but his stupid foot was in the way. wooyoung then easily let himself in (but were you really trying to stop him), and he comes further into your hotel room where he finds san laying down in your bed.

wooyoung then turns to look at you with a glare, pointing his finger at you as you close your door and walk past him. joining san back on the bed. "so you'll kiss him, but not me!?"

san furrowed his eyebrows letting out a small "hey" but both you and wooyoung ignored him.

"san's my boyfriend too, wooyoung," you said, deadpanning at your younger lover.

"so why won't you kiss me if i'm your boyfriend too?"

"because maybe i don't want to!" you said with a huff and wooyoung let out a groan in annoyance at you. san just sat there, watching it all.

"what did i do, y/n! just tell me so you can stop being a brat," he huffed, blowing some hair out of his face.

"you're acting pretty bratty yourself, woo," you say back as you cross your arms and lean against the headboard.

"come ooooooonn, y/nnie, i'm dying here without a kiss from you," he says before dramatically falling onto the bed. he tries to grab your ankle but you quickly pull your feet away from him, making him pout. you think you heard him mumble 'brat' under his breath but you didn't really care.

then something popped into your head as you watched wooyoung roll around and whine, eyes then drifting to san who still sat watching you both. "you want a kiss from me?" you ask, its rhetorical but wooyoung still nods. he's desperate. "okay," you say before turning to san and gently turning his head to look at you, "will you do me a favor sannie?"

"sure," he says and doesn't have time to say anything else before you're pressing your lips to his harshly. san hums into the kiss but before it could go too far, you pull away, wiping the spit that connected the two of you.

"give that wooyoung for me," you say, taking a deep breath and you notice wooyoung perking up from his spot. san can only nod before he's moving to where wooyoung is, cupping your shared boyfriend's face before he's kissing him the same way you had to san.

you watch san break the kiss, but before he could move away wooyoung is pulling him back down for another one; however, when he pulls away wooyoung says, "give that to y/n."

san obeys and you lean over to meet san as he delivers wooyoung's kiss to you. you let out a small laugh as san moves away, but again not far enough to not let you pull him back to give him yet another kiss to give to wooyoung. you move back to your original position as you watch wooyoung sit up in order to kiss san, the younger running his hands through san's hair which somehow manages to perfectly fall back into place.

this continues for several more minutes – how long exactly, you aren't sure, but you definitely aren't complaining and you don't think san or wooyoung are complaining either. your lips are starting to feel a little swollen from how long you've been kissing though and your two lovers' lips don't look any better.

san and wooyoung were kissing when a knock sounded at your door. san tried to stop you from leaving, squeezing your thigh but you slipped off the bed and over to the door.

third time's the charm, seonghwa smiled at you brushing hair out of your face as you wrapped your arms around him. who knew kissing could make you so tired. "what you doing, angel? why are your lips so swollen looking?"

"wooyoung," you say as seonghwa guides the two of you into your room, you never letting go. you hear seonghwa let out a dry laugh as he sees wooyoung and san on your bed. the eldest watches as you let go of him in order to crawl back on the bed and san takes the opportunity to kiss you, easily switching from wooyoung to you like it was second nature to him now.

"what are you all doing?" seonghwa asks as he stands at the foot of the bed, still watching you all.

"y/n wouldn't kiss me, so we are trading kisses between san," wooyoung says.

seonghwa raises his eyebrow at wooyoung's response, "still? y/nnie, just kiss him already! i don't think he'll forget to kiss you again after this."

"what?" wooyoung says, surprised by seonghwa's words. forget to kiss you? oh shit, he did forget to kiss you this morning before he left. "y/nnie," wooyoung says, crawling over to you, wrapping himself around you so you couldn't move away. "i'm sorry, baby, i promise i won't ever forget to kiss you again, just please don't make me suffer like this again," he says.

"you promise?" you say grabbing his face to make him look at you.

"i promise, baby," he says, you let out a small noise before you're finally kissing wooyoung. your lips smashing against his and wooyoung wastes no time in kissing you back. he felt like he was lost in a desert and finally found water. damn, did he love kissing you.

when you pulled away, you noticed how wooyoung finally looked at peace and you smiled at him as you moved the hair away from his face. "better?"

"you have no idea," he says, pressing a light kiss to your lips.

"well, it was nice playing kiss express with you both, but i'm gonna go lay down in my own bed," san says, leaning over to kiss both you and wooyoung before he gets up. san makes sure to give seonghwa a kiss as well before he leaves your room.

you look to seonghwa before patting the space next to you, the eldest of ateez smiles at you before joining you and wooyoung in your bed. you turn in wooyoung's hold in order to cuddle up with seonghwa.

"hwa, please turn a movie on," you ask and seonghwa nods, doing the necessary things in order to get a movie playing on the tv. then the three of you are settling in, seonghwa even pulling an extra blanket out and covering you three.

you can't help but feel sleep slowly take over as the movie plays, the sound of it acting as background noise as seonghwa's chest rising and falling softly, slowly lulling you to sleep. wooyoung was already out, his head nuzzled into your neck as his arms are wrapped around your waist. you look up at seonghwa who looks down at you with a smile.

"go to sleep, angel, i'll wake you up later," he says.

"for dinner? will you eat with me?"

"of course, get some rest," he says, kissing the top of your head as you relax back on his chest. eyes closing and sleep finally taking over.

note : wow 😮‍💨 this was a ride lol thanks for reading! title was inspired by a take with my bestie braincell 🖤

[muniimyg]

𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!jk (19) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ *nsfw*

series m.list // taglist request: closed

note: uhhh... angst, fluff,, face fucking/freaky sex (period sex) LOL .... nothing too crazy but it's def intimate. jus wanted to let u guys know part 20 is the 'epilogue' for the plotline ,, the continuation will go on from part 21-25,,, (onwards if i have more drafts) but that's all i have planned for now !!! thank u so much for reading along,,, it's truly been a pleasure to be loved and seen by u all <3 much love !!

୨ৎ playlist ୨ৎ

war - keshi ; you always got something you wanna prove / and i've got nothing left to lose / don't know what we're fighting for / i'm tired of going back and forth

intro (end of the world) - ariana ; i'd rather tell the truth than to make it worse for you / if the sun refuse to shine / baby, would i still be your lover? / would you want me there? / if the moon went dark tonight / and if it all ended tomorrow / would i be the one on your mind?

labyrinth - taylor swift ; uh oh, i'm falling in love / oh no, i'm falling in love again

//

that day.

when someone who loves you more than life itself proposes, you say yes. 

that’s what you’re supposed to do. 

you’re supposed to kiss, plan the wedding, get married, and live happily ever after. it’s supposed to work out. it’s supposed to. 

yet, there you stood in front of the love of your life and a ring between you two. silent, eyes flickering back and forth from his to the ring. your gaze traces the cut and falls in love with how the diamonds shine. the band is the perfect thickness and there is nothing more you want in the world than to put it on. 

you know what to say. 

the words are right there, waiting on the tip of your tongue. so easy to speak out, so tempting to do… but with every breath and exchanged look with jungkook, there’s something inside you that stops you. you search as fast as you can, running through your mind with the leftover excuses and justifications of why it’s still a no. 

then, your mind stops spinning the moment you realize; it’s just not the right time. at least, right now isn’t. 

it’s not that simple to understand and accept. you, yourself, have a difficult time figuring out why you can’t just live and be happy. why you can’t accept the proposal right now since you believe in jungkook so much… perhaps, the best way to put it is; it’s stormy. there’s fog, the rain is pouring, and it’s cold. you know the storm won’t last forever. the sky will clear soon… but it’s not now. right now, the storm needs to calm.

only time can do so. 

only time can bring the calm.

so, you answer jungkook with a heavy heart but a clear mind. 

“can i have some time? please, jungkook…” 

his shoulders drop, but his heart feels more than ready to wait. why? because contrary to popular belief, the world didn’t end when you didn’t answer jungkook’s proposal.

who was he to deny you of some time? both of you knew the real issue wasn’t whether you loved him—it was everything wrapped around it.

he gives you until the end of the week to make your choice.

jungkook fills the next 3 days with clingy text messages and random visits to your place. each day, he makes playful comments about how he’s packing up and doesn’t know where to put his things... should he drop them off at your place or ship them to new york.

you roll your eyes and ask, “are you staying there forever?”

in response, he huffs cheekily and says, “only if you break my heart.”

the truth is, you could never do it.

you could never break his heart.

it’s too precious.

it’s quite literally half of yours.

after he proposed and granted you time, the two of you talked about how the week should go. yes, you would give your answer eventually, but more importantly, the focus should be on zion. he’s the center of your relationship, and your decision shouldn’t change the fact that you’re both his parents.

which brings us to now...

sitting in the back of zion’s daycare room with your phone out, more than ready to capture the upcoming moments. but as excited as you are, a nervous buzz hums beneath your skin. maybe it’s just a mom thing. watching your son grow and take part in these little social moments moves you in ways you never expected.

“honey, why are we sitting so far away—”

“oh, you made it!”

“i wouldn't miss this for the world,” jungkook smiles, rushing to your side. he leans in and kisses your cheek, the warmth of his lips sending a comforting flutter through you. settling beside you, he glances at the classroom filled with eager children. “hi mama. is it his turn yet?”

you nod, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling in your chest. “is it weird we’re here during their circle time? like, are we controlling parents? we could’ve just asked for a video to be sent to us—”

“next, we have zion sharing—oh, wow! friends, it looks like zion brought so many toys to show and tell for us today… maybe he can pick just one to present?” zion’s teacher announces, patting his back and helping him open the bag.

your cheeks flush with a blend of embarrassment. wide eyed, jungkook whispers, “holy fuck, you packed him so much shit—“

“shhh! what was i supposed to do? he couldn’t decide, and i didn’t want his first show and tell to be something he wouldn’t remember!” you playfully shove jungkook, who chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“you spoil him too much.”

“says the father that buys his 3-year-old stussy clothing and calvin klein underwear.” you bite.

jungkook shrugs and tilts his head. “dilf behaviour, i don’t know.”

his reply makes you laugh. then, you both turn your attention and watch zion bend over and shuffle through the bag. his small hands search for the perfect item, only revealing he’s found it through a big smile. when he finally makes his choice, the teacher smiles brightly and helps him retrieve a photo from the depths of the bag.

“friends, today zion wants to share a family photo!” she announces, handing the photo to him. zion beams with pride as he holds it up, encouraged to walk around the circle to show everyone. when he notices you and jungkook in the back, his giggle fills the room.

the family photo he chose to share is one of you, jungkook, and zion in bed. zion is 2 years old in the photo with bedhead. it’s his birthday. there’s a cake and a sleepy smile on his face while you and jungkook have paper party hats on, both cheek to cheek with zion. 

you should’ve seen this coming.

of course zion picked this. his favourite memory in his entire 3 years of living is when he woke up in bed and had birthday cake for breakfast. you all look so happy. 

“guys, look! that’s my mommy and my daddy!” he exclaims, pointing excitedly.

suddenly, all twenty pairs of wide eyes turn toward you and jungkook, and you can’t help but laugh awkwardly, waving at the children. “hi friends,” you say softly. “i’m zion’s mommy, and this is zion’s daddy—”

“daddy bought mommy a new car!” zion adds proudly, his voice echoing in the small space. “can i show and tell the car? is it outside mommy—oh! and he bought her a ring too! it’s so big! like a rock—”

a few children burst into laughter, while others shout out eager questions. just then, one little girl runs up to you, her eyes wide with curiosity. “zion, where is the ring?” she asks, looking up at you with innocent expectation.

zion shrugs, clearly unfazed. “at home,” he replies. “mommy always puts it on and then takes it off. on off, on off, on and off!”

“is your daddy rich?” one child shouts out. 

“my mommy is richer.” zion says proudly. “she’s a lawyer.”

“what’s your daddy’s job?” 

zion shrugs. “i don’t know. he always looks at art on his computer. daddy, what’s your job?”

jungkook chuckles. “i’m a visual director for advertisement.”

“yeah, okay. that.” zion nods. “... anyways, i want to be a lawyer like mommy when i grow up.”

your heart skips a beat as jungkook’s lips tighten. you exchange a panicked glance, his brows furrowing as he takes a deep breath, trying to suppress a laugh amid the unexpected attention and embarrassment from the twenty curious kids.

zion’s teacher gently guides his friend back to the circle, asking zion questions like, “how does this photo make you feel?” “where was this photo taken?” and “why did you choose to share this photo?”

zion, beaming with pride, answers one of the three questions. 

“i wanted to show and tell this photo because i love my family. mommy always kisses my booboos and daddy always makes me pancakes. i love it when we sleep in the same bed and they tickle me in the morning… i think they tickled me here too! and i love it when i'm sick and they buy me lollipops... oh, and i love my daddy because he teached me my abcs...” he says, nodding his head with determination. “but also, i love my mommy more than daddy because i just do.”

the other children burst into laughter, their voices mixing in a delightful cacophony of familial love. some shout out their own preferences, choosing sides between mommy and daddy. you can’t help but chuckle at their innocence. jungkook claps, his laughter joining yours, and together you send zion an enthusiastic thumbs up, a shared pride swelling in your chests as you watch him bask in the attention.

when the circle ends, zion’s teacher insist you two stay for a bit and observe zion with the children. you and jungkook spare 10 extra minutes before needing to leave for work. before you leave, you pick up zion and give him a tight hug. 

“i can’t believe you chose us over your toys, my love! that was so speical to us, z!” you exclaim, showering him with kisses on his cheeks and neck. he giggles, jumping in your arms.

“because i love you, mommy—”

“hello?” jungkook cuts in, scooping zion from your arms. “daddy is here too... say you love daddy too…”

zion nods. “okay, i love daddy too. i love mommy more—h-hey”

jungkook also attacks zion with kisses and tickles, their laughter filling the room. when the moment ends, he puts zion down and ruffles his hair. you and jungkook bid him goodbye, promising to come back for pickup in a few hours.

tonight you two plan on celebrating the fact that you and jungkook—despite all the distress and separation—made it known to zion that you are family no matter what.

he is loved no matter what and he is chosen above all else.

which is why this is so special to you and jungkook—

zion chose you two.

for dinner, you and jungkook decide to cook together. 

you two haven’t done this in almost a year. usually, it’s one or the other. tonight, it was special… and for important reasons, zion requested a cake. you and jungkook grant it under the condition that he entertains himself with his toys while you and jungkook cook. 

jungkook takes over with the prep as you begin to cook the meal together. he teases you a few times, joking that the food is burning. before you know it, he’s wrapping his arms around you and helping you cook. 

it's crazy, isn't it? you would think that jungkook would be sore loser when it comes to rejection... but since it technically wasn’t rejection; he's soaking these moments up. any and every moment with you—he's taking.

“is this really a two person job?”

“mhmm,” jungkook says, sneaking a kiss on your neck. “you know what else is a two person job?”

you tilt your face and squint at him. 

he mimics your expression before pecking your lips. 

“focus on cooking. i know it’s hard with me being this handsome and my big ass dick—”

“shut up.”

“yes honey.”

the rest of the evening slips by in a blur.

the dinner is simple but comforting, the kind that fills your heart as much as your stomach. laughter bounces around the table, mixing with the quiet clinking of plates and the warmth of home. after the meal, the three of you gather to cut the cake, zion’s small hands eager as he grabs his slice. it doesn’t take him long to devour it, chocolate smeared across his cheeks and lips. before you can reach for a napkin, he’s off—bolting toward the living room with that familiar burst of energy.

jungkook chases after him, laughter trailing in their wake, filling the space even after they've left. you excuse yourself, slipping away to the bathroom, the echoes of their voices lingering in the hall.

when you return, you pause at the doorway, the sight before you making your heart melt. your boys—your entire world—are sprawled out on the carpet, toys scattered around them in a beautiful mess. zion’s baby trash talk fills the room, his little hands batting at jungkook’s as they wrestle in the softest, silliest way. it’s these moments that make time stop, where everything feels so perfect it almost hurts.

"what do you love the most about mommy?" jungkook asks, his voice playful but curious, pulling zion close until their noses nearly touch.

zion scrunches up his face, clearly deep in thought, but you know him too well—he’s stalling. "umm... i don't know. she's pretty."

jungkook raises a brow, amused. "yeah, she is... but you pick her over me any chance you get and you don’t know?"

zion shrugs like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. "yeah... i love mommy because i just do." then his face lights up as if he’s stumbled upon a great revelation. "but also because she buys me better toys than you..."

jungkook’s laughter rumbles through the room, shaking his head. "i think my favorite thing is how hard she works for our family."

zion’s head tilts, curious. "cos she’s a lawyer?"

"yeah," jungkook agrees, then his voice softens. "but also because she loves us a lot. she does so much to make sure we’re fed, loved, and somehow always on time. you know, z, i’ve loved mommy for a while now... i can’t wait to love her for even longer. you think she’s gonna marry me?"

zion thinks about it for a second, then shrugs again. "maybe."

"maybe?" jungkook gasps, feigning panic. "you're supposed to be on my side!"

zion's laughter explodes as jungkook attacks him with tickles, his tiny body squirming beneath jungkook’s strong arms. the sound of their laughter fills the room, wrapping around you like a warm blanket, making your chest tighten with an emotion you can’t even name. it’s love, yes, but it’s more than that—it’s contentment.

the kind that comes from seeing your entire heart laid out in front of you, scattered in toys and giggles and moments too precious to capture fully.

you step into the scene, quietly noticing how zion’s eyelids have begun to droop, a yawn escaping his small lips. jungkook notices too, his eyes flicking to the clock before he decides it's time to get zion ready for bed. surprisingly, zion doesn’t argue this time. instead, he bounds toward the bathroom, his energy fading but still there in the way only a child can manage.

as jungkook jogs past you, he smacks your ass, a cheeky grin tugging at his lips as he chases after zion. you huff in mock annoyance but can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. there’s a lightness to it all, a warmth that settles deep in your bones, and even as you start tidying up the scattered toys and cluttered living room, you feel that fullness.

by the time you finish, jungkook and zion are still in the bathroom, their voices muffled by the sound of running water and sleepy giggles. you head to the kitchen, your movements slow, deliberate, as you begin washing the dishes, the weight of the day catching up with you. but even through the exhaustion, all you feel is love. it's in the quiet moments, in the laughter, in the way your home feels more alive when the two of them are near.

it's everything.

it always has been.

as you stand by the sink, hands submerged in warm soapy water as you scrub the dinner plates; you can’t help but think about today. 

today was good. 

after you and jungkook left zion’s daycare, you had to get back to the firm. jungkook insisted on driving you, but you brought your car too. instead, you asked him to walk you to your car. happily, he does so. when you two got to your car, you opened the trunk and gave him a gift bag. 

“what’s this?”

“open it.”

“an umbrella?”

“use it.”

he laughed, kissed you, and uttered against your lips; “we’re so not over.”

then, you two parted ways. 

as you wash the dishes, you think back to it.

how his hands were placed around your waist as you two walked out of the daycare. how he kisses you whenever his eyes fall onto your lips. how he laces your fingers together every chance he gets. how he shows up as zion’s father despite all the shit you throw at him… it’s everything to you. 

he’s a good man. 

your mind begins to wander as you think of all the things you want to say to him but can’t. things you’ve kept tucked away, hidden beneath the day-to-day rhythm of life. you think about the moments when everything felt too heavy, when the world seemed to close in on you, and all you wanted was him. 

in the depth of your misery, all you could think of was crawling to him—slipping into his arms, burying your face against his chest, and letting the weight of everything fall away as you cried your heart out.

you wanted to ask him to fix it, to take the burden from you like he always could, as if his love alone had the power to make everything right again.

because love... love should be enough, right? 

in your heart, you know that’s all you’ve ever wanted from him. for the love between you two to be enough to overcome the exhaustion, the stress, the compromises...

you’ve built so much together—beautiful things, a life, a family—but in the quiet moments, you still find yourself wishing it could just be about the two of you again. before the responsibilities, before you had to be anything more than his and him yours.

you imagine a different version of this life (not that you want it. you wouldn’t trade zion for the world). one where you’re still young, where the only thing you have to worry about is each other. no careers pulling you in opposite directions—no complications that need constant juggling or guilt. just him and you, lost in that simple, intoxicating love you both fell into so easily.

if it were like that, you know you’d choose him in a heartbeat. without hesitation, without the doubt that sometimes creeps in when the days get too long. you still would choose him, even now, with all that’s at stake.

because the truth is, you always choose him. 

you choose him in every quiet glance, in every tired smile at the end of a long day. you choose him when he makes you laugh, when he frustrates you, when he softens just enough for you to see that vulnerable part of him he hides from the rest of the world.

and even when things get hard, when life feels overwhelming, and you're standing on the edge of that misery, you still want him. you want him beside you, even if love isn’t always enough to fix everything. because, deep down, you know that with him, it’s enough to keep going.

and maybe that’s what matters most. 

not that love can fix everything, but that it's the reason you keep trying.

but it’s different now in the sense that you have more things to consider. zion, the people around you, your careers, and your own desires. how do you do this? how do you love him and give him everything but at the same time; do it for yourself too?

every day for the past 9 months felt like war. like you had to constantly choose one or the other. 

marriage or new york.

why can’t you have both? 

maybe that’s the answer. 

as jungkook finishes putting zion to bed, the quiet creak of the floorboards announcing his presence behind you. without saying a word, he picks up a dish towel and starts drying the clean plates, his shoulder brushing against yours gently.

"so... i was thinking," he starts casually, “maybe we should start planning for these 3 months. you know, like, zion’s schedule, dinners... that kind of stuff.”

you sigh softly, rinsing a glass. "we’ve got time," you mutter, brushing it off without meeting his gaze. "it doesn’t have to happen right now."

jungkook pauses, drying his hands before leaning against the counter. "i just think we should be prepared," he says, his tone still light but with a hint of seriousness creeping in. “i know you still have time left, but i’m not so sure our plans do—”

“what do you mean our plans? jungkook, you’re not taking zion—” you place the glass in the drying rack, feeling the pressure of the upcoming separation tightening in your chest. "we don’t have to plan every single moment, jungkook. why do you always do this? we have time."

“we have 4 days.”

“4 is plenty.”

“is it?” jungkook asks, voice shaking. “is it easy for you, ___? going back and forth, putting the ring on and off… telling me i can’t make plans—”

“that’s not what i meant—”

“what do you mean, then?”  

the room feels charged with tension as jungkook’s gaze hardens. he can see the conflict written all over your face, the way your shoulders tense and your hands move a little faster. "___, i just want us to be ready," he insists, his voice softening. "we need to figure out how to make this work."

you turn to him, frustration bubbling to the surface. 

"no. it's not easy for me, jungkook. it’s scary as hell when you do this,” you snap. “planning the rest of our life together when we’re only just recovering from the one we lost. i’m scared that if we make plans and start over—we might lose again." your word slip out before you can filter them.

“lose what? we don’t have to have another baby until we’re ready. until you’re ready—”

“it’s not that,” you bite your inner cheeks. “well, it’s a part of it… but what if i do it again? what if i lose myself and lose you? what if i fuck up too much the next time around and you don’t come back? everything we’ve built—us… i… fuck, what if you don’t fight for us because i burned everything down—”

“you won’t.”

“jungkook—”

he huffs. “___, you’re not wildfire, you’re hearth. you’re the reason this all feels like home. yeah, you’ve got heat, but it’s the kind that pulls people closer, not pushes them away. you don’t ruin, you ignite. you’re the reason we’re still burning bright. i burn for you."

you tighten your lips. “have you been watching bridgeton?”

“i’m trying here—”

you kiss him. 

he chases your lips as you pull away.

“i trust you. it’s myself i’m still unsure about. it’s getting better but it just freaks me out when you plan ahead… i used to look forward to those moments, you know? now it feels complicated.”

jungkook nods, bringing his hands to your face. he fixes your hair and looks into your eyes. “honey, even if the flames get high, we’ll handle them together. and if it burns, then fine—then we can slow dance in the burning room. you don’t just burn, you keep me warm. you make everything brighter, stronger. don’t think for a second that i’d let you lose yourself to the fire. i need you. you’re my warmth. you’re the light of my life, ___."

you pout, completely in awe of his words. 

jungkook then leans in and just when he’s about to kiss you, he murmurs; “so are you marrying me or what?” 

his words catch her off guard. as you open your mouth to retort, the teasing glint in his eyes makes you pause. for a moment, you’re defensive, but then the corners of her mouth twitch upward against her will.

“don’t be a coward,” jungkook says. “you’re a million things to me. don’t be that.”

“coward?” you scoff, trying to keep your tone light, as you push away from him. “you think i’m a coward?”

“well, you’re avoiding the tough stuff,” jungkook replies, his playful tone breaking through the tension. “... and we both know you’re tougher than that.”

you can feel the weight of his words settling in, the understanding lingering between you two. the walls of anxiety you built up start to crumble, and you let out a small laugh, shaking your head. 

“maybe you’re right.”

he steps closer, nudging her playfully. “see? that wasn’t so hard, was it? admitting that i’m right… wanting to marry me—”

“whatever you say, you cocky son of a bitch—”

jungkook chuckles, kissing you to shut up.

by the 4th day, jungkook begins to lose his mind.

the waiting has been unbearable. a slow kind of torture that gnaws at him from the inside out. every passing second feels like he's being pulled apart, suspended in limbo, unsure whether his future will unfold with you by his side or shatter into something unrecognizable. his thoughts go in circles—one moment, he’s convinced you’ll say yes, and the next, a creeping doubt settles in, making his chest feel tight.

he imagines every scenario, every possible response, and the worst part is that there’s no way to know.

he has packed all his belongings into boxes that line the walls of his studio apartment, the space feeling more hollow than it ever has. his game plan is simple: if you say yes, he’ll leave the boxes at your place, move back home, and everything will fall into place. if you say no… well, he’ll burn everything and cry the entire way to new york.

kidding.

(maybe)

realistically, jungkook will bring his things to his parents’ house, regroup, and try to act like he isn’t completely devastated. but even if you say no, there’s no universe where you and him don’t end up together eventually.

he’s sure of it.

there’s a certainty in his heart, a pull that refuses to let him believe otherwise. if it takes time, then so be it.

he’ll propose again and again when he gets back, until you see what he sees—that you’re meant for each other.

by the 6th day, yoongi comes in to bring his boxes.

jungkook spent the past 2 days at work, going over files and preparing documents for new york. it felt like going through the motions, like he was acting out a version of his life that wasn’t real yet. when he steps back into his studio, the air feels stagnant, the packed boxes looming like reminders of the uncertainty ahead.

he finds yoongi slumped over on the couch, lazily typing away on his laptop, his legs sprawled across the cushions as if he’s already made himself at home.

“have you been like that all day?” jungkook asks, toeing off his shoes by the door.

yoongi doesn’t look up. he lets out a wide yawn. “yeah,” he says, stretching. “your new york assistant better be patient as hell with you. you're a bitch sometimes... anyways, i actually moved a few boxes and put my clothes in the closet. oh, and i went out for some coffee.”

jungkook squints at him, making a face. “what? i literally have a nespresso machine.”

yoongi stands up from the couch, his hands sinking into the deep pockets of his sweatpants. he tilts his head slightly, a look of lazy amusement on his face.

“no, you don’t.”

jungkook frowns, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. he turns to the kitchen counter, where his nespresso machine has always been, only to find it missing. his heart skips a beat, and he takes a step forward, blinking as if maybe he just missed it somehow.

“what? where’d it go—”

“___ came by and took it,” yoongi says casually, as if he’s talking about the weather.

jungkook’s mind races, processing the information. “what? why would she take it?” his voice is laced with confusion, but there’s a flicker of something else—a hope he doesn’t dare entertain too much just yet.

yoongi rolls his eyes, walking over to the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water.

“congratulations on your marriage, jungkook,” he says, twisting the cap off. “now get out of my place. go home.”

jungkook blinks again, his heart pounding as the realization sinks in. you took the nespresso machine.

you took the fucking nespresso machine.

that’s your answer. his chest tightens, but this time it’s not from uncertainty. it’s from the flood of emotions crashing over him—the relief, the joy, the love.

his body moves on autopilot as he starts grabbing things, adrenaline coursing through him. yoongi watches from the couch, a smirk tugging at his lips as he lazily sips his water. “you’re welcome,” he mutters under his breath.

jungkook doesn’t hear him.

his mind is already on you.

the wait is over, and he’s finally going home.

jungkook bursts through your door, calling your name, the sound of his voice filled with excitement and urgency.

“___? honey, where are you—”

time seems to stop as the world around you fades away.

as he catches sight of you on the living room floor, laughter bubbling between you and zion, the warm glow of the afternoon sun filters through the curtains, casting a golden hue over the room. the ring on your finger catches the light, sparkling as it draws his gaze.

his breath hitches, and his heart feels as if it’s been thrust into a whirlwind—stopping, skipping a beat, and then racing wildly, unable to contain the rush of emotions flooding through him.

it beats for you.

“hi, honey,” you wave him over, your smile radiant and genuine, illuminating the cozy space. “look! zion can count up to thirty now!”

jungkook rushes to your side, the weight of the day lifting with each step. he forgets that yoongi is still with him, his entire focus on you. kneeling beside you, he takes your hand in his, his fingers brushing over the ring—the very symbol of the love and commitment he has always wanted to share with you.

“you’re marrying me?” he asks, disbelief and joy intertwining in his voice. "it's a yes?"

you look at him lovingly, warmth radiating from your gaze—the kind of look that speaks volumes. it’s the same way you’ve always looked at him, but now, there’s an unmistakable depth to it. the courage, the trust, the love shines brighter than ever, enveloping both of you in a cocoon of intimacy.

"i've loved you forever,” you reply, cupping his cheeks with your hands, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. “i have things to work on and so do you... but we're gonna do it together, right? cos this was difficult. this was way too difficult... and loving you has always been clear... so, yeah. i'm toughening it out. i'm trusting you and i'm not going to burn this to the ground. jungkook, you’re the only one i love in this world. you’re the only one who understands me. i fought so many wars in my mind to be with you—it has to be you.”

as jungkook’s lips curve into a radiant smile, a surge of emotion wells up within him. he leans in, capturing you in a kiss filled with promise and passion, pulling zion into a hug, enveloping you both in the warmth of his love. laughter bubbles up, mingling with happy tears as he holds you two close, the room echoing with the sweet sound of family and joy.

“oh my god,” he cries, the happiness spilling over. “i can’t believe this. okay, i’m going to get my stuff and—”

“yoongi?” you call, and he raises his hand, responding as if it were all part of a well-rehearsed script.

“wanna have a sleepover at uncle yoongi’s place? we should give mommy and daddy some privacy, huh?” he explains, scooping zion up into his arms and tickling him, making the little one giggle uncontrollably.

“can we eat ice cream before bed?” zion asks, eyes sparkling with excitement.

“duh!” yoongi replies with a grin.

“yoongi—”

“my son, my rules,” yoongi hushes you playfully. he puts zion down, urging him to say goodbye to you both, and they exchange sweet kisses before you point to the kitchen counter where zion’s overnight bag sits. yoongi picks it up and holds zion’s hand as they leave.

the moment settles around you and jungkook, and he looks at you with a mix of wonder and concern.

“you said yes,” he states, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“i did,” you confirm, a hint of hesitation in your voice.

“what’s with this vibe, then?”

you swallow hard, feeling the weight of what you’re about to say. “jungkook... i still want you to go to new york.”

jungkook tilts his head, his expression shifting to confusion.

“are you guys coming with me?”

you shake your head gently. “no.”

“no?”

you reach for him. he lets you hold his hand. bringing it your lips, you kiss them. “jungkook, i don’t want it to be one or the other. let’s do both, okay? go to new york. let’s get married. both. we do both.” 

“but 3 months?”

“we’ll come and visit!” you suggest, fully meaning to do so. truth be told, you already bought your tickets for the first visit. “i decided to take a leave from work for the rest of the year—why are you looking at me like that?"

"that's huge. are you sure that's what you want?"

you nod. "i want you."

"oh god..."

you laugh. "i want to get this right and i want to be okay. i want to figure it all out and i want to do it with you by my side. so, do this for us…. and 3 months isn’t forever. you’ll be back soon and we’ll be visiting every month. it’s too much of a hassle to move… but i truly want you to go and explore your options. i want you to go knowing that i don’t only love you for who you are and for what you’ll ever be—but i love you so much that i believe in you. in the dreams you have and the dreams i have for you. so, go. go, and when you come back, come back home to us—to me.”

the sincerity in your words wraps around him like a warm embrace, and jungkook feels the weight of your love and belief in him, making him all the more determined to chase after his dreams. he nods slowly, understanding the depth of what you’re offering.

in that moment, everything feels right.

"w-we can’t—" your voice breaks, barely a whisper, trembling with hesitation. your heart is pounding, the room feeling warmer by the second.

“why not?” jungkook’s eyes are wide, pleading, filled with a desire that mirrors your own but with an urgency that’s hard to ignore. his breath fans over your lips, just inches apart.

he’s been kissing you for almost 20 minutes, his lips soft but persistent, his tongue teasing yours in ways that make it impossible to think straight. his hands have long since slipped under your shirt, fingers trailing over your bare skin, sending sparks up your spine.

the heat between you two is overwhelming, consuming. his touch is soft but possessive, his fingertips grazing the edge of your bra as he pulls you closer, pressing you flush against him. you feel his heart racing beneath his chest, a rhythm that matches your own.

every inch of you craves him, craves more.

“i want you,” his voice is a low, husky whisper, filled with need. his hands move slowly, deliberately, like he’s memorizing every curve of your body, every reaction. “i want all of you.”

his words send a shiver down your spine, your resolve weakening with every second. he looks at you like you’re everything he’s ever wanted, like he’s been waiting for this moment forever... and you have too.

the tension between you two has been building for so long, the unspoken feelings bubbling under the surface, waiting to explode.

his lips find your neck, pressing soft, heated kisses there, and you arch into him, your breath hitching. your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, your body betraying the protests on your lips. every touch, every kiss, makes it harder to think, harder to hold onto the reasons why you shouldn’t.

you can feel how much he wants you, the way his hands tighten their grip on your waist, the way he presses himself harder against you, his need undeniable. his lips move back to yours, capturing them in a deep, searing kiss that leaves you breathless. and in that moment, it’s like nothing else matters but him, but this.

you’ve never felt anything like this—so intense, so consuming.

“i’m on my period.”

jungkook bites his bottom lip. 

“so?”

“i think i’m gonna be more sensitive and it's gonna be so messy—”

“are you okay with being more sensitive? we don’t have to fuck if you don’t want to.” he insist, putting you first. your eyes flicker to his cock, poking through his jeans. "and mess is just mess. we can clean it up."

“i want to,” you say. “should we just put a towel underneath?” 

he nods, getting up from your bed and out the hall to the linen closet. there, he picks the thicket towel and hurries back to your room. he bends over and places the towel on your spot. you get up to go to the bathroom and freshen up as he prepares. 

when you get back, jungkook is already naked. he grabs you by the waist and pins you down on the bed. 

“let me suck your dick first.”

jungkook gulps. 

“actually, c-can i.. can i fuck your tits first?”

you laugh, puckering up for him. he leans over and kisses you. against the kiss, you answer him; “whatever you want, honey.”

with that, jungkook sets himself on top and places his cock in between your boobs. his cock is bigger than ever. you take it with two hands, pumping him slowly and adding some pressure to it. he throws his head back, hissing at the perfection of your touch.

“f-fuck…”

then, you let go and hold your boobs together. jungkook then begins to pump himself in between. the tip of his cock pokes out every so often, causing him to pant at the sight. you lower your chin, opening your mouth for his cock to enter it. jungkook takes the hint and shoves his dick inside. 

you suck on it.

twirling your tongue around and playing with his tip—jungkook just might combust. you breathe through your nose as he begins to fuck your mouth. he can’t help it and you wouldn’t want it any other way. jungkook fucks your mouth in a desperate and almost brutal way. god, did he need this. 

he loves this. 

jungkook places his hands against the wall to help his stability. as he pulls himself out, you hold his cock with your two hands and continue to give him a handjob. he loses his breath for a second when he looks down and sees you drag your tongue around his hard cock. 

he moans, eyes shut and the feeling of the pit of his stomach twisting. 

“g-gonna cum—fuck, fuck, fuck!” jungkook chants.

you suck his dick more intensely. taking in every inch of him and tiring your inner cheeks out—he finally cums inside your mouth. 

pulls out, you don’t let go. you continue to pump his length and kiss it. 

jungkook feels like he’s going insane. he moves his body and matches to your eye level. he kisses you, tasting a bit of himself. 

“thank you.”

“any time, daddy.”

“oh god—”

you laugh. 

jungkook wipes the cum that spilled outside of your mouth with his thumb and shoves it in your mouth. you suck it clean. 

“do you want me to eat you out?”

“that’s nasty!” you cry, hating the idea. “just put it in.”

jungkook smirks. “no prep?”

“aren’t i wet already?”

he ignores you and fixes your position. he lifts your hips, dragging you closer to him. jungkook then places himself on top of you and his cock in between your legs. he parts your folds, looking down at your bloody entrance.

“ready?”

you nod, lacing your hands together around his neck. he lets out a breathy moan as he sinks himself inside you. 

you wince. 

“f-fuck, should i pull out?”

you shake your head. “n-no.”

“does it hurt?”

“yeah.”

he lowers his head, placing kisses on your neck and collarbone. “sorry, mama.”

“why are you so fucking big?” you hiss, feeling his thickness push inside you even more. your body jolts and he chuckles. 

“that big?”

“mhmm,” you agree, closing your eyes to help regulate the burning feeling in between your legs. “j-just keep going. think it’s better when you—oh, f-fuck. yeah. like t-that, daddy. s-so nghhh, f-fuck. so good.”

“you like that, mama?” jungkook asks, pumping himself inside and out of you deeper and deeper. “fuck, you’re so tight. so fucking tight. can we do this again next month?”

"oh my god!"

you hit his shoulders and he laughs. 

it’s not long before your arms wrap around him. you drag your nails against his skin, digging deep as he fucks you. 

jungkook rests his forehead against yours. there, he watches as you make fuck me eyes at him, and as you wince and gasp between each thrust. your arms move up, holding onto his shoulders. 

then, you feel it. 

the tingle in between your legs and the tightness that follows. jungkook’s cock throbs inside you and you feel it like never before. 

wrapped in his warmth, your heart swells with a love that feels like a tsunami—overwhelming and unstoppable. it’s a powerful wave that crashes over, rising higher with every shared look, every gentle touch. you can feel it building inside me, a rush of emotions that surges forth like water cascading from a great height, and you’re completely swept away.

you’re done for.

the intimacy of this moment is everything. his pants and murmurs of ‘i love you’s echo in your ears, and the way he looks at you with light in his eyes make your heart race like never before. 

it makes you want to cry. 

you’ve known and felt loved by jungkook before. for a long time now actually… but never like this. never has it ever felt this raw and real. 

never has it ever felt this consuming. 

it engulfs you, leaving me breathless yet exhilarated. in this moment, everything else fades away. there are no worries, no doubts—just you and jungkook suspended in time, hearts beating in sync. you can feel the tide of your feelings, crashing and receding, drawing me closer to him with each pulse.

as you gaze into his eyes, you realize that this love isn’t just a fleeting moment in time. 

it’s endless. 

uh oh. 

i’m falling in love. 

you want to surrender to it completely. to be swept away in the depths of our intimacy. with jungkook, there’s a promise of haven in chaos and as the waves of love continue to swell, you know that you’re more than ready to embrace every moment. 

to let this tsunami carry you wherever it may lead.

“fuck, ___… a-are you crying? i’m sorry. i’ll—”

you hold onto him. 

uh oh.

i’m falling in love again.

eyes burning with your tears, heart lighter than ever. 

“i love you, jungkook.”

“i love you too, mama.”

jungkook kisses you, continuing to ask if you’re okay. you assure him you are and that period sex is a lot more emotional than you expected it to be. it’s not freaky—it’s just a fucking moment. he continues to fuck you, digging in deeper and deeper. 

you think to yourself; no one will ever know me the way he does. 

no one will ever love me and want me as wholeheartedly as he does… for that, you’re grateful and fall in love with the closeness everything has brought you two. 

you lose yourself to him.

he carries you through 3 more orgasms before helping you up from bed, starting you and bath, and cleaning you. together, you two sit in the bathtub and hold each other. you two talk about the plans that you have and what to expect during the next 3 months. 

as you lay next to jungkook, his soft breathing fills the quiet room. his body sinks deeper into sleep. you feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest against yours, his arm draped loosely over your waist, pulling you closer. the warmth of his skin against yours, the weight of him in the stillness—it all feels like home.

the world outside could be moving a million miles an hour, but here, with him, time seems to slow down, just for the two of you.

yet, something stirs within you, a reminder of a truth you’ve held onto for years—time doesn’t stop for broken hearts. it never has, it never will. yet, it always seems to move a little slower when love slips through your fingertips—when it’s about him.

something you’ve always known about loving jungkook is that he fears the end. he’s never been good with losing people or things, never able to fully let go. he loves and lives like he’s running out of time, even though he isn’t. but that’s what makes him so different, so captivating—he loves in full force. he loves with his entire heart... and he loves with all his time.

as his breaths even out, you stay awake, thoughts swirling around you. you realize how long it took to get here, how many battles you fought—most of them with yourself.

pride had been a constant companion, keeping you at arm's length from the very love you craved. there were moments where you couldn’t imagine letting yourself be this vulnerable, this open. loving him meant risking the one thing you protected the most—your heart.

but somewhere along the way, you let that pride slip away, piece by piece. maybe it was the way he looked at you, the way he never let go, no matter how many times you tried to push him away. maybe it was realizing that you didn’t have to be so strong all the time, that with him, you didn’t have to carry the weight of everything alone. the moment you put pride aside, everything shifted—time, love, and life all started falling into place.

you’ve both waited for this.

for the space to just be with each other without the weight of past mistakes or the fear of losing what you’d built. now, time feels like it’s on your side. for so long, it seemed like you were always too late or too soon, like everything was just out of reach. but here, in this moment, with his warmth wrapping around you, you know you’ve finally caught up to where you were meant to be.

he stirs a little, tightening his arm around you as he shifts closer. a soft smile tugs at your lips, the kind of smile that only comes when you realize that all the walls you’d built were finally down. you’ve let go of the need to protect yourself from him, because you know now that loving him is worth more than holding onto pride.

the first light of morning spills through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. jungkook wakes slowly, his sleepy eyes finding yours, a lazy grin spreading across his face. in that moment, without either of you needing to say a word, you both know—time isn’t something to fear anymore.

it’s finally yours.

“coffee?” he mumbles, voice still heavy with sleep.

"coffee."

you move together, the rhythm of your morning routine as easy and familiar as breathing. side by side, you make coffee, the smell of it filling the kitchen, your hands brushing as you pass him his cup.

and as you stand there, cups in hand, you feel a quiet sense of peace. the pride that once kept you from this moment is gone, and in its place is something stronger—trust, love, and the certainty that no matter what time brings, you’ll face it together.

whether it's the beginning or the end;

you and jungkook are timeless.

[thelonestarinthesky]

I saw requests are open! Is it possibly for you to do a Senku x reader oneshot? Senku is totally pining after the reader (who also has a massive crush on him) and Gen has to shove Senku out of his comfort zone to get him to say anything to the reader!

OR (give you some options because I saw you have writers block)

A Senku x Reader oneshot where they are finally about to reunite after Senku wins the Stone war against Tsukasa! Fluffy and cute!

I hope giving you two ideas isn’t too much! You definitely don’t need to do both but I thought giving you a choice would help!

ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴɴᴇʀ ᴛᴀᴋᴇꜱ ɪᴛ ᴀʟʟ

⁺₊✦₊　　

pairing: senku x f!reader

a/n: I've decided to merge the two ideas together! Thank you for requesting!! I hope it's to your liking!

⁺₊✦₊　　

Senku couldn't sleep, for countless nights, he would lay in bed, staring at the ceiling silently, thinking.

Ever since Gen had arrived back during the Grand Bout, he revealed something to him.

Tsukasa had taken [Name] as a hostage, purposely reviving her when he had no choice but to bury her statue when they fled the small camp he and Taiju made at the beginning and keeping her close.

"Poor [Name] is scared to death." Gen's words echo in his mind. "Save her Senku~"

He sighs, closing his eyes. "Wait for me, okay?" Mumbling quietly, he says.

࿐⸻༺ ෆ ༻⸻࿐

After the war with Tsukasa was over, the first thing Senku did was go over to the Tsukasa empire. On his search to look for the [H/C] haired girl, he walked among the place before stopping.

He looked up to see a figure poking their head out from the prison-like cave, like how Chrome said they held him in.

"....senku?" The voice called out quietly.

A shiver ran down his spine.

[Name] teared up upon seeing him running up the mountain to where she was being held.

Watching as he pants heavily, he quickly helps trying to get the prison open, sitting on a rock, sat [Name], nothing had changed. Seeing her like this reminds him of their life in the modern world.

"You're okay." Her calm expression is the same; the way she sits with her legs together, ladylike, and the gentle smile on her lips are all the same. "I'm happy."

[Name] is caught off guard as Senku walks over and stands in front of her, then suddenly, the two fall back from the rock, trapping the girl underneath him, his arms are wrapped tightly around her waist, face buried in her neck.

She's stunned before even saying a word; she feels his shoulders tremble slightly and then understands.

Without a word, she slowly hugs him back, smiling against his hair. "... I missed you too." She mumbles for his ears alone.

⁺₊✦₊　　

It's been a couple of weeks since [Name] returned to his side; Gen had noticed the way Senku would be around her. Asking for her opinions on his latest work, when they made bread, he made sure she was the last one to get it, giving her the larger portion left.

Upon seeing how happy she was eating it, he gave her his piece, claiming he wasn't that hungry and claimed they would make more now that they had a chief.

Gen had managed to catch [Name] alone, Senku, surprisingly not by her side. "Say, [Name], I've been meaning to ask. What is Senku to you?" He sat down beside her as she sewed up Senku's winter coat since winter was coming up.

She looks up at him before going back to work. "We grew up together." Gen hums at this. "My best friend." Her answer was....too vague for him, so he decided to push.

"Oh? Is that all? I thought you two were more than that." He thinks out loud, peeking over to see her reaction.

"Gen." The girl says, "I know what you're trying to do." She smiles. "If you're looking for a specific answer, all you had to do was ask. I have loved Senku for many years."

His mouth drops, and he expected her to deny or simply not answer.

"So straightforward." She just smiles at him before going back to work.

It took days for Gen to plan his next move; he saw the way Senku looked at [Name], so maybe he could ask Senku if he would think of the [H/C] haired girl.

Yeah, he'll ask and try to play matchmaking-

"Oh, [Name]? Yeah, I'm aware of her feelings for me." Senku says bluntly, picking his ear.

Gen is shell-shocked, staring at Senku like he has grown another head.

"What?" The green-white-haired boy says, clueless.

"You haven't done anything?" Senku blinks at Gen's words. "Done what?" The scientist says.

"Oh, I don't know—accepting her feelings, obviously!?! Gen shouts clearly annoyed at how blunt Senku was towards the girl's feelings in the first place.

"[Name] knows how I feel," Senku says like it's normal, very blunty.

Gen groans. "Senku, I don't think any girl would know what the boy she's in love with feels about her when you give her science rants."

"Can't you give her flowers or maybe something normal?"

Senku scoffs at this. "Back in the modern world, I would give her a lot of things." He says it like it's nothing, almost proud.

"Name one." Gen challenges him.

"I named a spaceship after her."

"Next."

"I took her to Africa to study Ebola with me."

"No, something more romantic." Gen looked like he wanted to just give up. None of this seemed like normal things to give to a girl.

Senku thinks a bit. "...I made a lipstick for her." He remembers that the brand she was using was running out, but they had discontinued it. She was sad about it and often went to the mall with her as she searched for an alternative.

So when she didn't like any of them nor did it suit her. He managed to sneak a sample of the remaining bit and spent a week trying to perfect it.

Seeing her so happy was worth it in the end.

"Anything else?" Gen asked him. "Surely that can't be the only 'normal' gift to her." The man sighs.

Senku stands with his arms crossed, the work he was working on, forgotten. His face deadpans as soon as he realizes what Gen means. Maybe he hadn't given enough to [Name], or maybe she thinks the feelings are one-sided.

"See what I mean." Gen sighs at Senku's dejected face.

"Don't worry, the great mentalist will help you," Gen says grinning.

⁺₊✦₊　　

Senku glanced over at [Name], who was sitting. He made up an excuse to bring her here alone, and he wasn't sure where to go from there.

In his hand, a hairclip, one he'd made the day before. Gen had suggested it to him upon seeing how [Name] often moved the strands of hair from her face.

Gen watches from afar. He can't hear anything, but he sees Senku sitting down beside the [H/C] haired girl. His lips opened as he spoke to her before showing the hairclip.

[Name] smiles as she reaches for the item before Senku leans in and puts it in her hair, catching her off guard as her face heats up slightly, but she smiles at Senku.

More words are spoken, but Gen sees this as a sign to give them privacy.

[Name] goes to lean in the water to see her reflection, but Senku stops her; he brings out a small item and hands it to her. Flipping it around, the girl sees that it is a mirror; smiling, she checks where he puts the hairclip and smiles even more , thanking him.

She looks surprised at his words, seeing him bashful as he confesses, giggling at this. She rests her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes, "That's not true; I like when you go on about what you're passionate about; I love seeing that sparkle in your eyes." She confesses. "So don't think your actions are any less."

Senku wraps his arm around her as they sit there. No more words are needed between them since they both know the depths of their feelings.

The next day, Gen goes over to see how things went, going over to Senku, only to stop when he sees the two closer than ever.

Matchmaker Gen's job is over.

[burningcheese-merchant]

A Thought About Burning Spice Cookie

I was kind of just going about my business today when I had a sort of... revelation, I guess? About Burning Spice. Looking back, I'm not really sure why it took me so long to think of this, but I like to live by the ideal "the best time was then, the second best time is now", so here we go.

Burning Spice was once the Herald of Change (or History, in the original Korean text). He was said to have fought for and defended fledgling civilizations in the distant past, protecting people and helping them in dark times. His throne decor even says he used to let people into his palace and allow them to engage in honest discussion with him about their problems, after which he'd get up and go out and do something about those problems. He sounded like a pretty swell guy... until he got bored with everything and went insane, of course. But here's the thing.

I think I understand why he ended up this way.

To put it as vaguely as possible, I do stuff in real life that may or may not have something to do with history as a subject. And I will gladly tell you all point-blank: history is fucking horrible. History is bleak. History is dark and cruel. The more you dive into it, the more it appears to you as a joke without a punchline. History is a drama, a tragedy, and a big fucking farce all at the same time.

Of course Burning Spice got tired of it. I get tired of it sometimes. Because sometimes, all history ever seems to be is a bunch of delinquents writing "I'm a bad kid" on the chalkboard repeatedly forever and ever. Just a bunch of bad people hurting each other for reasons that'll only come across as stupid long after they've all died at each other's hands. I'm sure Burning Spice started to think "what's even the point of building anything if someone is just going to come tear it down?" And it's hard to not think that when that's what ALWAYS happens. That's what history is a lot of the time. Brutal competition. A war of all against all.

The cure to the cynicism and melancholy history can and will inflict on you, at least in my opinion, is... to stop dwelling on it, honestly. At the end of the day, you have to remember that the past is gone. What's done is done. Things happen and sometimes, you can't do anything about it. You can't go back and save Lincoln from being assassinated. You can't go back and stop the Holocaust. You can't go back and save the world from all those wars and famines and disease epidemics. History both changes constantly and is unchanging at the same time. You have to make peace with what you cannot change - the past - and move forward, because time won't wait for you. We have to remember these things, these dark times; we all have a duty to do so, for the sake of those that came before us and those that will come after. But we also have to remember to live for the sake of those around us here and now. It is the present that shapes the world the most. It is in the present that we find true happiness. Not in the yellowed pages of old textbooks about the past and not in the pie-in-the-sky fever dreams we have about the future.

I think that's what fucked Burning Spice over. He forgot to live in the present. He was so focused on bringing about change, so absorbed in giving everything he had to everyone else, so invested in preserving the past and paving the way for the future, that he started losing sight of what was already there in front of him. His friends. His people. Too much time spent on the bigger picture and not enough spent on the tiny details that don't seem important at first glance, but when you look closer, you realize are what made the whole, entire picture as big as it is in the first place. He, like many do, like I do, began to see how cyclical and futile history can really be. He just saw people looking for reasons to hurt one another and destroy anything good they'd built together. Civilizations that were once grand and prosperous falling to anarchy. Clans with close ties turning against one another. Friend groups fracturing. All this hard work, undone, over and over again. And for what? What did they do any of this for? What did HE do any of this for?

I think his descent into villainy was slow, but sure. A little piece of his soul crumbling to dust with every person he felt like he failed because whatever great change he enacted was undone and everyone else suffered for it. And no one was ever really there to help steer him back onto the right path. Not his friends, not his family, not his people at large. Whether this was because they didn't know he was hurting like this (he seems like the type to keep things close to the chest anyway), they didn't know how to help or comfort him, or they didn't care, ultimately does not matter; regardless, it boils down to Burning Spice never being reminded to find solace in those around him right now, instead of constantly fretting over those before or after.

Maybe if he did remember, if he paid more attention to what IS and not what WAS or what WILL BE, he could've been saved. If he'd let Shadow Milk tell him more about his books and the little puppets he liked to craft. If he listened to Eternal Sugar play her harp more. If he sat and played a few more rounds of Go with Mystic Flour. If he had a friendly sparring match or two extra with Silent Salt. If he ate and drank and danced with his fellow spices like he probably used to like doing. If he stopped thinking he always had to be this larger-than-life figure who lorded over and protected society, and just let himself breathe and be a normal, happy person. It wouldn't make the ultimate folly of history sting any less, but he could have at least made peace with it and continued onward in spite of it.

But he didn't. He succumbed to history's poison, like so many have and so many will. And in an ironic twist of fate, which you will also often find throughout history, the tide of change swallowed him whole and drowned him. He let the failures of yesterday color his perception of today, and tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that. More and more people came across to him as bad actors until the whole world was just a devil's stage play, and it was being performed at his expense. Hard work and self-sacrifice lost their flavor. He tried to keep going, tried to keep pushing. Maybe he knew what was happening to him on some level and fought desperately to save himself. Put duct tape over the cracks in a dam, because that's probably all it amounted to, because the wisdom he needed didn't exist within him at that time and he didn't/couldn't find it anywhere else. Pushed forward even when he couldn't see where he was going anymore. Until every muscle in his body hurt. Until he'd lived long enough to see everything he ever lived and worked for be taken apart for scrap, for a vendetta, for shits and giggles.

Until he started looking at those bandits and warlords and terrorists he used to help put away and thinking... "hey. Maybe they're seeing something I'm not. If nothing else at all, they sure look like they're having fun. Way more than I am right now." Until he gave in to despair and grew bitter, and thought "well, if nothing I do really matters, if destroying it all is what makes people happy, then maybe I should give it a shot."

And then he became a bandit, a warlord, a terrorist. He turned into all those people he hated and continues to hate today. He cut out the middle-man and just ended lives before they could begin. Razed civilizations to the ground because that was what was going to happen anyway, whether it be by his hand or someone else's. What does it even matter? What does anything matter? This is all history is. Pain and suffering. He's only doing what's natural. He's solving problems before they can even occur, really. He's doing everyone a REAL favor. Destruction truly is the only way.

The best way to make the world a better place is to make the lives of those around you better first. Even just helping the one person makes a difference in its own way. Think less about making history by winning a war or toppling a regime and more about making history in an old person's life by helping them up when they fall down. Or making history in a dog's life by volunteering at an animal shelter. Or making history in your friends' lives by having a fun day with them that they'll remember and cherish even on their deathbeds. Change doesn't have to be grand. It doesn't need to be an all-consuming tide that rises above the tallest buildings. It can just be gentle waves and seafoam, washing over the sand and kissing one's feet. That's enough, more often than not. More than one might realize.

Maybe if somebody made sure Burning Spice kept this in mind, he wouldn't have turned into a Beast in the end.

TL;DR: History is shit. Him losing it makes perfect sense. It probably would've happened to me, too. Somebody should've been there to keep him grounded. Everyone failed him and he failed himself. Remember to live in the present. YO SOCRATES, IT'S A FUCKING COOKIE

[everrinsly]

a/n: i'm glad there's a few of you who also love sugar daddy suna, thank you; i really need him in this economy. we all need him haha ╰(*´︶`*)╯

~~~~~

suna may be a famous pro athlete, but he is first and foremost your best friend vibes.

and he loves spending money on you (especially on your weekly grocery hauls).

sugar daddying part 3 (450 pieces of candy and a pack of chuppets in aisle 8) with suna. long drabble. fluff. fem!reader. | not proofread.

sugar daddy suna | part 1 | part 2

more reads!

~~~~~

Maybe your first mistake was letting Suna push the cart. And your second mistake... was becoming his best friend because he had all your favorite foods and snacks memorized now—

"There's those peach-milk candies you like. Lemme grab them real quick."

"You want those fancy-ass yogurt drinks, angel? What flavor?"

"I'm gonna grab your favorite brand of udon, so we can make it later, yeah?"

"Mochi ice cream. Vanilla or matcha—actually, nah."

(He threw them both in the cart).

—so what started as a 'quick grocery run' turned into him casually knowing all the likes and dislikes of your tastebuds, speed-running your entire favorites list like it was a shopping game show.

You adored Suna, really. But it gets to a point where you're going to have to fight him at the cash register because you can't afford all of this.

"Rinnie," you sighed softly, tugging on the rolled-up sleeves of his hoodie.

“Hm?” He didn’t even turn, just kept scanning the candy aisle like a predator tracking prey, probably looking for those Hi-Chew candies he knows you love so much (he's right, it's your second favorite).

You leaned over the cart. “Why are there five packs of those fancy yogurt drinks in here—and..." you trailed off, counting. "One... two... three... four—eight?!"

You gave him a look, one that made him just want to squish your cheeks (you don't know that though).

"Rin! Why are there eight packs of peach-milk candies?!"

"You said you liked them," he said blandly.

"There's fifty pieces in each pack!" You slapped a hand against his chest.

Suna hummed, then shrugged, tossing another into the cart anyway. “Well, now you have nine. 450 pieces total. Stay sweet, angel.”

You flushed, groaning into your sleeves, which only made him grin as he pushed the cart forward with the lazy swagger and nonchalance of someone who had way too much money and not enough shame.

And then, when he tossed in your favorite seaweed snacks, your arms flailed.

“Rintarou! No—”

He blinked innocently, green eyes twinkling with mischief. “These? Oh, my bad. Thought they were for me.”

“You said they're too salty for you.”

“Yeah... but you like them. And I like you.”

Your breath caught. He didn't even look at you when he said it, too busy grabbing three of your go-to instant ramen cups.

You squinted at him, heart fluttering in your chest, just begging to be released to Suna's arms.

Suna stared down at you, like he was mentally asking 'you got anything else to say?'

You sputtered. No, you didn't have anything else to say.

Suna smirked like he'd just won a very quiet war. Then, he reached for your favorite brand of fresh milk bread and tossed it in the cart without a word.

"…You don’t even know how much this is gonna cost," you mumbled, trying to sound annoyed and failing miserably.

Suna finally turned to face you, leaning over the cart, his arms folded on the handle like he had all the time in the world.

"I literally make more per match than this whole store makes in a day."

“Still. You don’t have to—”

"I want to," he said simply.

And that shut you up again. Because you knew he meant it. Just like he meant it when he ordered your favorite takeout when you were sad. Or when he kept your favorite playlist downloaded on his phone even though he 'hated that shit.' Or when he drove forty-five minutes to your college campus just to bring you a new laptop charger because yours broke.

You sighed, cheeks warm. "You're really annoying, you know that?"

Suna smiled, a real one, slow and soft. "Yeah. But I'm your annoying."

And just like that, in the fluorescent lights of aisle 8, with your favorite snacks piled high in an overflowing cart, you felt your heart flutter in that dangerous, hopeful way it always did around him.

You didn’t say anything. He didn't say anything.

But you reached out, plucked a bag of his favorite multiflavored chuppets from the shelf and piled it on top of your snacks. Then quietly mumbled, “…Thanks, Rinnie.”

And in true Suna fashion, he pretended not to hear you, but the way his lips twitched gave him away.

Though, you weren't sure if that was caused by you or the chuppets.