#right? we know this. we all know it. setting a boundary is a thing. overwhelming a person is a thing

[sergle]

There's something about like. A certain genre of posts / Online Opinions about insecurity/depression/misery/complaints that are so unhelpful that they wrap right around to being straight up hilarious. and it's the ones that are more or less written to the tone of "Feeling bad? That's gross!" Like, just so you know, don't voice your insecurities/ have low self esteem, because that's offputting! You're gross and weird. Don't be insecure about that, though. That would be stupid if you felt insecure about people disliking you for being insecure. Not attractive. You should be thinking about being as attractive as possible. You shouldn't make comments about suicide, even if you're suicidal! Keep those thoughts entirely to yourself. Make sure nobody around you knows you're thinking about this. It would Make Them Uncomfortable. It's better to keep these thoughts in your head where they can fester. Don't post OR talk to friends with complaints about you feeling miserable or depressed. Tbh people who are sad/upset a lot? Kinda a red flag! You are probably miserable because you're a bad person and you've brought this on yourself. If you don't have friends, it's because you're awful to be around. Easy! Solved the problem for you. And no, there is no nuance to this, got it? So, make sure to feel bad about feeling bad, but don't feel bad about it, because, well, that's just gross. And annoying! You might've wanted your brain rotted thoughts to be Peer Reviewed, you might have just needed to vent- you might've been hoping for some comfort, to get things off your chest. Well, don't! Don't talk about thoughts or feelings that are negative with your friends, you'd be burdening them and that's only meant for THERAPY. #SponsoredbyBetterHelp #MentalHealth like, DAMN. that's so helpful. you're so good at helping. I um really liked the part where these are all hard and fast rules that encourage keeping feelings bottled up and keeping your friends at arm's length. That's really funny of you.

[goldfades]

WHO DID THIS TO YOU?──RAFE CAMERON

free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine it's crucial that we stand in solidarity with those who need our support. right now, the people of palestine are facing unimaginable hardship, and it's up to all of us to do what we can to help. whether it's raising awareness, donating to relief organizations, or supporting calls for justice and peace, every action counts. we can amplify their voices, shed light on their struggles, and work towards a future where every individual can live with dignity and freedom. your support can make a difference! FREE PALESTINE!

for this request, for my lovely jo! @wanderlusturous

─ summary | you and rafe are consumed by an obsessive love, where their madness is fueled by each other. you find exhilaration in pushing boundaries, testing each other’s limits, and the deeper you fall into your shared insanity, the tighter your bond becomes. when rafe finds you crying in your bedroom one day, he loses his shit and is thrown into a silent rage, seeking revenge. and you don't mind, not one bit.

─ pairing | rafe cameron x fem!reader

─ warnings | oh my god, where do i even begin?? obsessive rafe, like insane but reader reciprocates it. a few kisses but mostly just insane stuff. mention of drugging (not to reader), hacking (?), idk what else but this is lowkey insane...

─ ev's notes | im gonna be honest, i don't know if i like this... but lmk if yall enjoyed it. it's a little too dark-themed for me and i got into it until i reread it and realized that it was lowkey insane but hey!!! whatever!!! anyway, pls lmk if this was too dark.. or if you enjoyed it. also, sorry to any becca's out there, it was just the first name that popped up. any feedback is always very appreciated!

ok love u bye!!! pls send me requests!!!!!!

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The night is suffocating, thick with tension that mirrors the pulse racing in your veins. Every sound, every breath, seems amplified, as if the world knows what’s coming. You stand by the dock, your eyes on the dark water ahead, but your thoughts are elsewhere—on him.

Rafe.

You can already feel him, even when he’s not here. The way your skin hums when you think of him, the way your pulse skips in sync with his name. No one gets you like Rafe does. No one makes you feel like the world is spinning off its axis just by looking at you. He’s chaos, destruction wrapped in a pretty face, and you... you crave it.

The roar of an engine breaks through the night. You don’t turn, but a slow smile curls on your lips. You feel the heat of his presence before you even hear his footsteps.

“Couldn’t stay away, could you?” Rafe’s voice is a low drawl, but there’s something manic beneath it, something that sparks against the madness in you.

You turn your head slightly, just enough to catch his eyes. There’s that look again. That wild, possessive look that sets your blood on fire. He’s close now, so close you can feel the heat radiating off him, feel the tension in the air tighten like a noose around your neck.

“Neither could you,” you reply, your voice low, daring.

He grins, a sharp, dangerous thing. “You’re right. I can’t.”

His fingers brush your arm, just a ghost of a touch, but it’s enough to ignite something violent between you. This—this is what you live for. The thrill. The madness. The way Rafe looks at you like you’re the only thing keeping him sane, and maybe that’s what scares you the most.

Because you’re not sane.

Not anymore.

You can’t even remember why you broke up with him a few months ago, but all you know is that it got overwhelming. There was something suffocating about it—about him. The way he always knew where you were, who you were with, what you were thinking before you even said it. At first, it was intoxicating, the way he could read you like no one else ever could, like you were the only two people on earth and no one else mattered. But then… it was too much. His intensity felt like drowning in quicksand, slow but relentless. And for a moment, just a moment, you thought maybe you needed air.

But standing here now, with the salt stinging your nostrils and the wind howling like some kind of omen, you can’t remember why you ever thought you could leave him.

Because there he is—Rafe Cameron, walking toward you like the world is his and you’re his prize, eyes locked on you in a way that makes your chest tighten, your stomach coil in knots. He’s dangerous in all the ways that matter. Not just because he’s reckless and violent (though God knows he is), but because of how he makes you feel. Alive, in a way that hurts. Like the rush you get standing on the edge of a cliff, knowing one wrong step and it’s all over, but you can’t stop yourself from leaning forward, just to feel the thrill of almost falling.

He doesn’t stop walking until he’s so close you can smell the gasoline and smoke on his clothes, the wild energy pouring off him in waves. He looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters, like you’re the oxygen he’s been deprived of for too long, and suddenly it all makes sense again. The madness. The break-up. The inevitable pull back to him.

“Why’d you leave me?” His voice is low, rough like gravel. His eyes burn with something fierce, and you can feel it sinking into you, clawing its way under your skin. He’s not asking because he doesn’t know. He’s asking because he wants to hear you say it.

You stare at him, heart pounding, pulse thrumming in your ears like a warning. But instead of stepping back, you step forward, closing the small gap between you two. Your breath mingles with his, the night air thick with unsaid things, and you feel like you’re standing on the edge of something irreversible. Like if you take one more step, there’s no going back.

But isn’t that what you’ve always wanted? The danger. The thrill. The sick, twisted excitement of being so intertwined with him that you forget where he ends and you begin.

“I don’t know,” you whisper, even though that’s not the full truth. You do know. You left because you were scared. Scared of how much you wanted him, needed him, even when it hurt. Scared of the fact that the line between love and obsession blurred so fast with him that you couldn’t tell the difference anymore.

His jaw tightens, and his hands, those rough, calloused hands that have touched you in ways no one else ever has, reach out. He grips your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze, and for a moment, you swear you can see the wild, unhinged thing lurking just behind his eyes. It’s the same thing you see in yourself when you look in the mirror. The madness that ties you to him, binds you like a curse.

“You do know,” he says, voice dark and demanding. His thumb brushes your bottom lip, slow, like he’s testing how far he can push you before you break. “You just won’t say it.”

A shiver runs down your spine, but it’s not fear. It’s something else, something deeper. Something that feels like surrender and power all at once. You lean into his touch, letting his hand curl around the side of your face, the heat of him soaking into your skin like a drug.

“I couldn’t handle it,” you admit, the words thick and heavy in your throat. “You. Us. It was too much.”

Rafe’s lips curl into a smirk, but it’s not a kind one. It’s dark, possessive. “Too much? You know you liked it. You loved it.” His hand tightens slightly on your jaw, just enough for you to feel the edge of his control, like he’s reminding you who he is. What he is. “You loved me because of how fucked up we are. Don’t pretend otherwise.”

You swallow hard, heart thundering in your chest, because deep down, you know he’s right. You’ve never felt more alive than when you were with him, caught up in the madness of it all. The fights, the passion, the way you both pushed each other to the edge and then pulled each other back, only to do it all over again. It was twisted, dangerous, and wrong in every way, but that’s what made it irresistible.

“I did,” you confess, and it’s like a weight lifts off your chest, even as you feel yourself falling back into him, back into the chaos. “I do.”

The smirk fades, replaced by something darker, hungrier. His eyes search yours, looking for any sign of hesitation, any crack in your resolve. But there’s nothing. You’re not the same person who left him. Maybe you never really left at all.

Rafe’s hand slides from your chin to the back of your neck, pulling you closer until his lips hover just inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin. “That’s what I thought,” he murmurs, and before you can respond, his mouth crashes into yours, hard and demanding.

It’s not gentle. It’s never been gentle with Rafe. His kiss is all teeth and tongue, like he’s trying to devour you, claim you all over again. And you let him, because deep down, you crave it just as much as he does. The fire, the chaos, the way he makes you feel like you’re spinning out of control but somehow exactly where you’re supposed to be.

When he pulls back, you’re both breathing hard, your lips swollen, your pulse racing like you’ve just run a marathon. His hands grip your waist now, pulling you flush against him, and you can feel the heat of his body searing into yours.

“Tell me,” he says, voice low and dangerous, his eyes boring into yours. “Tell me you’re mine.”

Your heart hammers in your chest, but you don’t hesitate. “I’m yours.” And you are, completely, utterly, unashamedly his.

And just like that, you’re back where you started.

───MONTHS LATER . . .

“God fucking damn it, if you don't tell me right now, I'm gonna lose my shit!” Rafe shouts, his voice cracking like thunder in the small living room as he throws the beer bottle against the wall.

Glass shatters everywhere, scattering across the floor, but you don’t even flinch. You’ve seen this before. Hell, you’ve lived it. The rage, the temper, the chaos—it's like a script you’ve both memorized by heart.

You lean back against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, watching him like you would a caged animal—wild and unpredictable. He’s pacing now, his movements sharp and erratic, the muscles in his jaw clenched so tightly you wonder if they might snap. His eyes are wild, blue like ice but burning with something untamable, something dangerous. He’s teetering on the edge, that fine line between fury and desperation, and you know it won’t take much to push him over.

But you don’t care. Not right now.

“Rafe, calm the fuck down,” you say, your voice steady, almost bored. You know that’ll get to him. It always does. Nothing makes him crazier than when you don’t give him the reaction he’s fishing for.

His head snaps in your direction, eyes narrowing as he stalks toward you like a predator honing in on prey. He stops just inches away, towering over you, his chest heaving, breath coming in sharp, uneven bursts. He’s so close now that you can smell the alcohol on his breath, feel the heat radiating off his skin. But you don’t move. You stand your ground, looking up at him with a calm that borders on defiance.

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” he spits, voice laced with venom. His hands are balled into fists at his sides, knuckles white. “I’m sick of your bullshit! You think you can just stand there like you’re better than me, like you’re not a part of this, but guess what, baby? You are. You always have been.”

You tilt your head slightly, eyes narrowing as a slow smile creeps across your lips. “You’re being dramatic, Rafe,” you say, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “What, you gonna break something else? Or are you actually gonna say what’s bothering you for once?”

That does it.

He slams his hands down on the counter behind you, trapping you between his arms, his face just inches from yours. His eyes blaze with fury, but beneath it, you see something else—something raw, something that makes your stomach twist in knots.

“Don’t play games with me,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous. “I know what you’re doing. You think you can just push me around, mess with my head, and I’ll keep coming back like a fucking dog, huh?”

You meet his gaze, unblinking, heart racing in your chest but refusing to show it. You can feel the tension crackling between you like electricity, the air thick with it, suffocating. This is what it always comes down to with Rafe—this toxic push and pull, this need to break each other just to see what’s left after the pieces fall apart.

“You think I’m the one messing with your head?” you say, your voice low, challenging. “Maybe you should take a look in the mirror, Rafe. You’re not exactly innocent in this, are you?”

His jaw clenches, and for a moment, you think he’s going to explode. But instead, he just stares at you, eyes flickering with something dark, something primal. Then, slowly, he leans in closer, his breath hot against your skin.

“Innocent?” he whispers, his lips brushing your ear. “Baby, I’ve never claimed to be innocent. You knew exactly who I was when you got into this.”

You don’t flinch. You don’t pull back. Instead, you tilt your head slightly, your lips grazing the corner of his jaw as you whisper back, “Yeah, and that’s why I’m not scared of you.”

His breath hitches, just for a second, and you feel a surge of satisfaction. You’ve always known how to push his buttons, how to throw him off balance, even when he’s at his most dangerous. It’s a game you’ve played a thousand times before, and you both know how it ends—chaotic, messy, with both of you circling back to the same place.

But this time feels different.

There’s something darker in the way he’s looking at you, something that feels more like possession than anger. Like he’s not just mad because you’re fighting—he’s mad because he can’t stand the thought of you slipping away. Because he knows, deep down, that no matter how hard you push him, he’ll always want you. Need you.

“You don’t get to walk away from me,” Rafe says, his voice low, deadly. “Not this time.”

You feel his grip tighten on the counter behind you, his body pressing against yours as if he’s trying to fuse the two of you together, like if he holds on tight enough, you won’t be able to escape. But he doesn’t know, doesn’t understand that you’re already too far gone. That the very thing he’s holding on to is slipping through his fingers, and there’s nothing either of you can do about it.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” you say softly, a cold smile on your lips. “I can walk away whenever I want. I just choose not to.”

And with that, you duck under his arm, slipping out from between him and the counter. His eyes follow you, wide with disbelief, rage bubbling just beneath the surface. You know he’s about to lose it, to completely unravel. But you don’t turn back. Not yet.

Because this time, you want him to come after you.

And he always does.

Rafe’s eyes darken as you slip past him, and for a moment, the room goes deadly silent. The tension is thick, heavy like a storm cloud waiting to burst. You know exactly what’s coming, and it sends a thrill down your spine. You can almost feel it—the moment he snaps, the second his control shatters. It’s a twisted game, one you’ve played too many times before, and every time, you push him a little harder, a little further, just to see how far he’ll go for you.

You take slow, deliberate steps toward the door, your back turned to him, feeling the heat of his gaze sear into you. You don’t need to look back to know he’s watching, every muscle in his body tensed like a predator stalking its prey. The air feels electric, charged with a violence that’s always been just beneath the surface between you two.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” His voice cuts through the silence like a knife, sharp and biting. You stop, but you don’t turn around. Not yet.

“Does it matter?” you ask, voice calm, almost teasing. “I thought I could walk away whenever I wanted, remember?”

The silence that follows is deafening. You know you’ve hit a nerve. He hates when you challenge him, hates when you act like you have the upper hand. But that’s what makes it so addictive—pushing him to his limit, watching him unravel in front of you, knowing that no matter how hard he fights it, he’ll always come back to you.

Because he can’t help it. Neither of you can.

Suddenly, you hear his footsteps behind you, fast and heavy, and before you can react, his hand grips your arm, yanking you back toward him with a force that nearly knocks the breath out of you. He spins you around, his face inches from yours, eyes blazing with fury.

“You’re not fucking going anywhere,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous. His grip tightens on your arm, fingers digging into your skin, but the pain only makes your pulse quicken, your breath hitch in your throat. There’s something about the way he looks at you—like he’s on the verge of losing control, like he’s barely holding himself together—that sends a thrill through you.

“Let go of me, Rafe,” you say, your voice daring him, even though you know you don’t really want him to.

He doesn’t. Instead, he pulls you closer, his other hand gripping the back of your neck, forcing you to look up at him. His chest is heaving, his eyes wild, but there’s something else there, too—something desperate, like he’s terrified of losing you, like he’s clinging to you with everything he has left.

“You think you can just walk away?” he snarls, his breath hot against your face. “After everything? After all the shit we’ve been through? You really think I’m just gonna let you go?”

You meet his gaze, unblinking, your heart racing, but there’s no fear. Not with him. There never is. Instead, you feel the pull again—the twisted, sick need to see how far you can push him, how deep his obsession goes.

“I think you don’t have a choice,” you say, your voice steady, even though your pulse is hammering in your ears.

His grip tightens, his jaw clenched so hard you can see the muscles twitching beneath his skin. For a second, you think he’s going to snap—really snap—but then, just as quickly, something shifts in his expression. The anger doesn’t fade, but it’s joined by something darker, something raw and consuming.

“You’re wrong,” he whispers, his voice barely audible but laced with danger. “You don’t get to decide when this ends. I do.”

Before you can react, his lips crash against yours, rough and demanding, as if he’s trying to prove a point. It’s not a kiss; it’s a claim, a reminder that you belong to him, whether you want to admit it or not. His hands tighten on you, pulling you impossibly closer, and you can feel the tension in his body, the barely restrained violence simmering just beneath the surface.

But instead of pulling away, you kiss him back with just as much fire, matching his intensity. It’s always been like this between you two—this chaotic, messy whirlwind of emotion that neither of you can control. You push, he pulls, and somewhere in the middle of it all, you find something that feels like love, even though you both know it’s something darker, something more dangerous.

When he finally pulls back, both of you are breathing hard, your lips swollen and bruised. His hand stays on the back of your neck, his thumb brushing against your skin in a way that’s both possessive and tender, like he’s reminding himself that you’re still here, still his.

“You’re mine,” he says, his voice rough, eyes blazing as he stares down at you. “You’ve always been mine.”

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. There’s a part of you that wants to fight it, to push him away and run as far as you can. But there’s a bigger part of you, a darker part, that knows he’s right.

You’re his. You always have been.

“Yeah,” you breathe, your voice barely a whisper. “I’m yours.”

The words hang in the air between you, thick and heavy, and for a moment, everything else falls away. The anger, the tension, the broken glass on the floor—it’s all background noise now. All that matters is the two of you, standing here in this twisted, fucked-up mess of a relationship, knowing that no matter how many times you try to break free, you’ll always end up right back here.

With him.

Rafe’s grip on you softens, just slightly, and for the first time in what feels like hours, the intensity in his eyes eases. But it’s still there, simmering beneath the surface, waiting for the next time one of you decides to test the limits again. Because there will be a next time. There always is.

“You’re not leaving me again,” he says, his voice softer now, but no less serious. “Not ever.”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Because deep down, you know that no matter how much you might want to, no matter how many times you tell yourself you can walk away, you won’t.

You never could.

And Rafe knows it, too.

───

You don’t usually cry. Not ever. Tears are something you’ve learned to bury deep down, hidden under layers of indifference and biting sarcasm. But tonight, they come, hot and angry, streaming down your face as you sit curled up on the edge of the bed, hands trembling in your lap. The weight of the evening presses down on you, your mind reeling from everything that happened.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Not tonight.

Your phone buzzes again on the nightstand, but you ignore it. You can’t deal with it right now. You don’t want to see the messages or hear the apologies. You don’t want to relive what just went down.

You wipe at your face roughly, trying to pull yourself together, but it’s no use. The shaky breath you let out only betrays you further, and you feel the tears well up again. You bite your lip to keep from making a sound, not wanting him to hear you.

But, of course, Rafe hears everything.

The door swings open, and Rafe steps inside, his broad frame filling the doorway. He looks at you, really looks at you, and in an instant, his expression darkens. His blue eyes narrow as they sweep over you, taking in the tear-streaked face, the hunched shoulders, the way your body is wound tight like a coiled spring, ready to snap. His jaw tightens, and you can practically feel the shift in the air around him.

“What happened?” His voice is low, dangerous, barely restrained. It’s not a question—it’s a demand.

You shake your head, trying to brush it off. “It’s nothing, Rafe. Just forget it.”

But you know better than to think he’ll let it go. The second you met him, you realized Rafe Cameron isn’t the kind of guy who “forgets” anything.

He moves closer, the tension in his body palpable. He’s not pacing like he usually does when he’s angry. This is different. Controlled. Focused. Like he’s honing in on the source of your pain, ready to eliminate it. He crouches down in front of you, one hand gripping your chin, forcing you to look at him. His touch is firm, possessive, but not rough—not yet.

“Tell me what happened,” he says again, his eyes boring into yours. “Who did this to you?”

You hesitate for a moment, unsure if you should even bring it up. You know how Rafe gets—how he reacts when someone hurts you. And this time, it wasn’t just anyone. It was someone close. Someone you thought was your friend.

“It’s—” You start, but your voice cracks, and you quickly bite down, trying to steady yourself. “It was…Becca.”

“Becca?” The name drops like a lead weight between you two, and you can see the recognition flare in his eyes. Becca, your friend for years, the one person outside of him you’ve always trusted. The one person he’s always been wary of.

Rafe’s grip tightens slightly, his thumb brushing over your jaw in a way that makes your pulse race. His voice drops to a low, dangerous whisper. “What did she do?”

You hesitate, but the words spill out before you can stop them. “She—she said some things. At the party tonight. She called me out in front of everyone, said I was using you, that I only stuck around for the money, the attention. She tried to turn everyone against me, Rafe. She made me look… weak.”

His face hardens instantly, and for a split second, you see something flash in his eyes—something dark and lethal. The kind of rage that makes your breath catch in your throat, even though you know it’s not directed at you.

“She said what?” His voice is so low now, it’s almost a growl.

You nod, swallowing hard, feeling the burn of humiliation all over again. “I don’t know why she did it. I thought she was my friend.”

Rafe lets out a slow breath, and the air around him feels like it’s vibrating with the intensity of his anger. He stands up abruptly, pacing the room, running a hand through his hair as if trying to keep himself from completely losing it. But you know it’s too late for that.

“I’ll fucking kill her,” he mutters under his breath, but you hear every word. “I’ll ruin her life.”

“Rafe—” You start to protest, but he cuts you off with a sharp look.

“No. No one talks to you like that. Not her, not anyone.” His voice is clipped, sharp, like he’s barely holding back the full force of what he’s feeling. “You don’t deserve this shit. Not from her, not from anyone.”

His protectiveness borders on obsession, but you can’t help but feel a strange comfort in it. It’s twisted, but there’s something about the way Rafe reacts to these things—like the whole world can burn as long as you’re safe—that makes you feel… seen. Important.

“I’m going to fix this,” he says, more to himself than to you, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “She thinks she can talk shit about you? In front of everyone? Humiliate you? Nah. She’s going to regret it. I’ll make sure of that.”

“Rafe,” you say softly, trying to reach for him, but he’s too far gone. You can see it in the way his eyes have glazed over, already plotting, already deciding exactly how he’s going to destroy Becca.

And part of you wants to stop him. Part of you knows that this isn’t the answer, that maybe you should handle it differently, like a normal person would.

But you’re not normal. Not anymore.

“I’m serious,” he says, turning to face you again, his expression deadly serious. “No one fucks with you. Ever.”

His intensity washes over you, and for a second, you feel like you can’t breathe. But at the same time, it fills you with a sense of power, knowing that he’s willing to go to these lengths for you. That he’ll protect you at all costs, no matter how destructive it gets.

You stand up slowly, crossing the room until you’re in front of him, your hand resting on his chest. “Just… don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

Rafe’s eyes flicker down to you, and for a brief moment, you see a softness there, a flicker of the boy beneath all the rage and chaos. “I won’t. But I’m not letting this go.”

You nod, knowing there’s no point in arguing with him. This is who he is—who you both are. Twisted, obsessive, reckless. But it works. Somehow, it works. And deep down, you don’t really want him to let it go.

A few months later, and somehow everything goes to shit for Becca.

It starts small—things that could almost pass as bad luck. First, her new car gets keyed, deep scratches across the side that no amount of buffing can fix. Then her social media accounts get hacked, posts disappearing, weird comments being left on other people’s pages, like someone is deliberately screwing with her life piece by piece. She brushes it off at first, because Becca’s tough. She’s the type of girl who bounces back quickly, who doesn’t let things get under her skin.

But then things escalate. Quickly.

She gets benched during a big volleyball game when her coach suddenly pulls her aside and questions her attitude. The team captain claims Becca’s been talking shit about the coach behind her back, stirring up drama with teammates. The problem is, Becca never said any of it. But now, she’s got a reputation, and people are starting to look at her differently.

Still, she fights through it, determined not to let it get to her. Becca’s always had her eye on the prize: her full ride to UC Berkeley, where she’s set to play volleyball at the college level. That’s her future. Her escape. Nothing can touch that.

Until it does.

The call comes one morning, out of nowhere. Becca’s shaking as she listens to the voice on the other end of the line, her heart plummeting as her coach tells her the news.

“We’ve received the results of your recent drug test, Becca,” the coach says, his voice stern but somehow apologetic. “I’m sorry, but you’ve tested positive for a banned substance.”

Becca’s head spins, her mouth going dry. “That’s impossible,” she blurts out, panic rising in her chest. “I don’t do drugs. I don’t—”

“I know this is hard to hear,” the coach cuts her off, his voice firm. “But the results are what they are. This disqualifies you from the scholarship and the team. UC Berkeley has revoked your offer.”

The words hit her like a sledgehammer. She feels the ground tilt beneath her, everything she’s worked for slipping through her fingers in an instant. She argues, pleads, tries to explain, but the decision is final. There’s nothing she can do.

And that’s when she starts to see it, to feel the weight of something much bigger pressing down on her. This isn’t just bad luck. It’s not a coincidence that her life is unraveling at the seams. No, this feels orchestrated, like someone’s been pulling the strings behind the scenes, watching her fall apart.

That someone is Rafe Cameron.

Rafe can be physical—he wouldn’t hesitate to swing on anyone he deems a threat. But Rafe isn’t a dumbass. He knows that not everything should be dealt with by violence. Some things are better handled with precision, with patience, with slow, deliberate destruction. He knew that punching Becca in the face wouldn’t satisfy him, wouldn’t give him the kind of control he wanted over the situation.

So instead, he used his connections, his money, his influence, all of the tools at his disposal to dismantle her life bit by bit. A hacked account here, a few whispers to the right people there. He didn’t need to lay a finger on her to destroy her. He just needed to plant the seeds of doubt, to set off a chain reaction, and then watch it all come crumbling down.

The drug test? Easy. A little slip of something into her drink at a party when she wasn’t paying attention, followed by a tip-off to the testing agency. The rumors about her trash-talking her coach? Carefully spread by a few well-placed texts to her teammates, pretending to be her. Her social media? That was just for fun, a way to throw her off balance and make her feel like her world was spiraling.

And it worked.

You know all of this, of course. Rafe never bothers to hide things from you. In fact, he’s proud of it, proud of the way he’s dismantled Becca’s life without so much as breaking a sweat. He tells you about it one night while you’re lying together, his arm draped lazily over your waist as he whispers in your ear.

“She thought she could fuck with you,” he murmurs, his voice dark, satisfied. “But now she knows. No one touches what’s mine.”

You should feel guilty. You should feel something for Becca, after all those years of friendship, of thinking she had your back. But all you can feel is a sick sense of satisfaction, like the universe has finally corrected itself. Becca messed with the wrong person, and now she’s paying the price. And as twisted as it is, you can’t help but feel a little thrill at how far Rafe was willing to go for you, how meticulously he destroyed her without you even asking him to.

“You really did all that?” you ask, your voice low, a smirk tugging at your lips.

Rafe shifts beside you, leaning in closer, his breath warm against your neck. “I told you, baby. No one fucks with you and gets away with it.”

You turn your head to meet his gaze, and there’s something dangerous in the way he looks at you, something possessive and wild. It should scare you, but it doesn’t. Not anymore.

Because the truth is, you like it. You like how far he’s willing to go for you, how far he’s willing to take it. There’s something intoxicating about the way he loves you—twisted, obsessive, and all-consuming. It’s not healthy, not normal, but it’s yours. And that’s enough.

You press your lips to his, kissing him fiercely, feeling the heat between you two ignite once again. Rafe kisses you back just as hard, his hands gripping you tightly, like he’s reminding you that you’re his and no one else’s.

As you pull back, your breath ragged, you glance at him, your voice barely above a whisper.

“She won’t come near me again.”

“No,” Rafe says, his eyes gleaming with a dark satisfaction. “She won’t.”

And in that moment, you both know it’s true. Becca’s done.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Under Fire

word count: 1.1k

Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader, ft. Jack

Summary: When Y/n L/n, Jack Wolff's beloved teacher, falls for Toto Wolff, their secret relationship is exposed to the world, igniting a media scandal that threatens to destroy their love and reputations.

______________________________________________________________

Y/n L/n had always been careful to maintain her privacy, especially as Jack Wolff's teacher. She kept her life in order, professional in every sense, and ensured that boundaries were respected. But everything changed when she met Toto Wolff at the first parent-teacher conference. He had walked into the room, tall, powerful, and commanding, and from that moment, everything began to shift.

It was supposed to be simple—discuss Jack’s progress, talk about his studies, and work to help him thrive. But with each passing week, the conversations between her and Toto lingered long after the school bell rang. First, there were shared smiles, then subtle compliments, until finally, their professional relationship evolved into something far more personal.

Toto had been honest with her from the beginning: he and Susie had divorced amicably years ago. There was no drama, no lingering bitterness between them, but that didn't stop the public from creating their own narratives. And as much as Y/n tried to keep her distance from Toto, the connection between them was undeniable.

One evening, after a long day at school, Y/n found herself at Toto’s penthouse in Monaco. It had become their sanctuary—hidden away from the prying eyes of the media. The city’s lights glittered across the water, and inside, the warmth of their shared moments felt intimate and safe. She sat on the couch, wearing a silk dress that clung to her curves. Toto sat beside her, his hand resting on her leg, the gentle pressure of his fingers sending sparks through her.

“Y/n,” he said softly, his voice thick with concern. “We can’t keep hiding like this.”

She sighed, her heart heavy with the reality of their situation. “I know, Toto. But the moment we go public, everything will change. You know what they’ll say.”

“They’re already talking,” he replied, running a hand through his dark hair. “The whispers are growing louder. It’s better if we control the narrative.”

Y/n bit her lip, knowing he was right. But the thought of being exposed to the world terrified her. She had always been private, especially in her role as Jack’s teacher. The idea of being dragged through the media was overwhelming, but hiding had become suffocating.

“It’s not just about us,” she said quietly. “Jack’s involved. His friends at school… they’ll hear things. He’ll be caught in the middle of all this.”

Toto leaned in closer, his dark eyes locking with hers. “Jack will understand. He loves you. He’ll know that what we have isn’t wrong.”

Y/n closed her eyes, resting her head on his shoulder. “I’m not sure the world will see it that way.”

But that night, they made a decision. The next morning, they would stop hiding, and the world would know the truth. What Y/n didn’t expect was just how fast the backlash would come.

The following day, Y/n’s phone exploded with notifications. It was just after 8 AM when the tabloids published the story—photos of her and Toto walking into his penthouse, the headline bold and brutal:

“Toto Wolff’s New Flame: School Teacher Sparks Romance Scandal After Divorce From Susie Wolff!”

Y/n felt sick to her stomach as she scrolled through the articles. The vitriol pouring in from social media was immediate and vicious.

“She’s just a cheap rebound for Toto. Susie deserved better!”

“Some teacher she is—sleeping with a student’s father. How low can you go?”

“This girl thinks she can replace Susie Wolff? She’ll never be her!”

The comments felt like knives stabbing at her, each one more cruel than the last. Y/n’s hands trembled as she set her phone down, trying to block out the words. But they had already done their damage.

She tried to shake it off, telling herself that people didn’t know the real story—that Toto and Susie had been divorced long before she came into his life. But that didn’t seem to matter to the public. They wanted scandal, and she was the perfect target.

At school, things weren’t any easier. Parents whispered as she walked by, their gazes full of judgment. Y/n could feel their eyes on her, their silent accusations making her stomach twist. Even her colleagues, who had once been friendly, now kept their distance, unsure of how to navigate the media frenzy that had erupted around her.

And then there was Jack. Sweet, innocent Jack. The child who adored her, who looked up to her like a second mother. He had started calling her "Y/n/n" in the past few months, a term of affection that made her heart swell. But now, Y/n feared what this scandal would do to him.

One afternoon, after class, Jack stayed behind, as he often did, waiting for Toto to pick him up. But today, his usual cheerful demeanor was absent. He looked up at Y/n, his small face full of confusion.

“Y/n/n,” he asked, his voice soft, “why are people saying mean things about you and Daddy?”

Y/n’s heart sank. She knelt down beside him, her voice gentle. “Sometimes, Jack, people say things that aren’t true. They don’t understand what’s really happening, and they can be hurtful.”

Jack’s eyes filled with concern. “But you and Daddy are happy, right?”

Y/n nodded, forcing a smile. “Yes, sweetheart. We’re happy.”

Just then, Toto walked into the classroom, his face tense. He gave Y/n a knowing look, one that told her he had seen the headlines, read the comments, and was just as furious as she was.

He crouched down beside Jack, placing a protective hand on his son’s shoulder. “Everything’s okay, buddy. Don’t listen to what other people say.”

Jack nodded, but Y/n could tell the boy was still troubled by the whispers he’d overheard.

That evening, as they sat in Toto’s penthouse once again, Y/n could feel the weight of the scandal pressing down on them. The backlash was relentless, and the haters seemed determined to tear her down.

But as Toto wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, Y/n knew that they had something real. It didn’t matter what the world thought of her or how many people spewed their hate. In the end, it was her and Toto against the world.

“They’ll never stop, will they?” Y/n whispered, her voice shaky.

Toto kissed the top of her head, his voice firm. “Let them talk. I don’t care. You’re the one I love, Y/n, and that’s all that matters.”

Y/n leaned into him, finding comfort in his words, knowing that despite the storm of haters outside, what they had was worth fighting for. But deep down, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this scandal was just the beginning of a much larger battle.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

going to format this like a reddit post because it’s the only way. i (transmasc) don’t know if i’m sexually attracted to the girl (transfem) im having sex with. i’ve known for a while that i’m asexual and fuck for fun, and when i see my friend who i’m fucking, i don’t have any immediate overwhelming desire to have sex with her, unless we’re like, in the moment yknow? like i totally forget that it’s even an option bc i could just sit there and talk to her for hours as my friend bc i love (platonic) her dearly and we have a lot of stuff in common. my only quip is that like, is that sexual attraction ???? being in her bed and having our hands on each other and kinda feeling it then? but not at other times? is sexual attraction constant?? maybe im bisexual and aromantic. or maybe i’m regular bisexual and i just dont like romantic relationships. makenzie why are human minds so goddamn difficult to parse the emotions of? i want to be her friend but im confused by my emotions towards her. how am i consistently having sex with someone im not literally sexually attracted to? and liking it? i mean that kinda has to be sexual attraction right? idk. help girl (gender neutral)

hi anon,

have a seat. drink some water. take a deep breath. we're wildly overthinking this.

what you call yourself - asexual, aro bi, bi but not into romance, whatever - that doesn't actually matter.

here are the things I'm worried about here: are you feeling at all pressured or coerced here? given the choice would you want to stop having sex with this person? do you feel comfortable setting boundaries and saying no when you have sex? you don't need to be overcome with raw sexual yearning for your sexual buddy, but do you enjoy and look forward to having sex with her? is this a positive experience for you?

it's fine to have sex even if you don't walk around thinking about it drooling like a horny cartoon wolf, whether it's because you're asexual or just allosexual without a particularly vigorous sex drive. (the line between those things can be pretty blurry and is pretty up to you to define, by the way.) sex can be fun and feel great; it's fine to want to do that even if you don't have a longing in your loins for it.

think of it this way? I don't particularly like most vegetables, but I like how my body will feel when I eat them, so I make a point of doing that as much as I can. and when I cook them they'll usually come out pretty tasty, and I'll enjoy or at least fell neutral about them. and still doesn't mean I like vegetables, or at least I don't particularly identify as someone who likes vegetables, but I did. eat those vegetables.

the sex is vegetables.

I can't tell you if this is sexual attraction. but also it doesn't matter very much as long as you're being safe and having fun.

[another-lost-mc]

library games

solomon likes to tease his apprentice, but things are bound to change the day he takes it a little too far.

solomon x gn!reader

1.7k words | nsfw | resolved sexual tension

cw: possessive behaviour, suggestive but not explicit sexual content.

a/n: this scenario takes place after the events of overture but can be read as a one-shot.

dark serenade series: part one: overture part two (you are here)

The first thing you notice when you step into Solomon’s library for today’s lesson is the sorcerer himself, his coat hanging off the back of his chair and shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He’s leaning back in his seat with an open book in his lap and he doesn't look up when you enter the room.

You know the moment he’s aware of your presence because his eyes stop scanning the page and there’s a deliberate pause before he closes his book and glances at you expectantly. He smirks and crooks his finger, urging you forward from where you’ve paused in the doorway.

You’re carrying the tomes he assigned as yesterday’s homework and set them on the desk - yellowed, dusty texts filled with magical theory and spells that seem far above your current ability. You’re ready to take your seat, but you realize that Solomon is sitting in the only chair. There should be extras in a room nearby, but he sighs loudly when you turn around to fetch one.

“Can I ask where you’re going?” he asks with a hint of impatience.

“I’m going to get another chair, but I’ll be right back,” you explain quickly, waiting by the door for his approval.

He seems disappointed and you don’t understand why at first, but then he pushes his chair back and pats his thigh invitingly. “If you need a place to sit, my lap is always an option, my darling apprentice.” 

You should be immune to his flirtatious banter by now, but the invitation is so surprising that it makes you sputter and rush away to find a chair that is most definitely not his lap. He chuckles quietly behind you, but by the time you drag another chair into the library, the lighthearted moment between you has passed.

He can be mischievous at times, but you know not to test his patience when his mood turns serious. 

With a flick of his wrist, one of the books with yesterday’s homework slides across the table towards him and you hurriedly take a seat at his side.

“Let’s see how much you’ve learned, shall we?”

After nearly an hour, you’re overwhelmed by the whiplash of his brutal criticism and genuine encouragement. He is relentless as a teacher, correcting you with a firm tone when you can’t recite incantations or complex rituals perfectly from memory. The warm praise he offers when you do answer his questions correctly soothes your rattled nerves like a balm.

You lean back with a sigh and glance at Solomon who’s grown silent next to you. There’s a strange intensity in his gaze that makes you want to hide from his scrutiny. The tense moment passes and he says you’re advancing ahead of schedule. You can’t help how your cheeks grow warm at his appraisal and the pleased twinkle in his eye.

You had fair warning at the beginning of your apprenticeship that he wouldn’t tolerate laziness, disappointment, or failure from you; knowing that you’re exceeding his expectations makes you unspeakably happy. He’s more than a teacher to you, and above all else, you know he considers you a friend - and that’s not a word a man like Solomon uses lightly.

Lately, he seems even more daring as he teases along the boundary that separates friendship and something more romantic. From the early days of your acquaintance, his wisdom and strength gave you comfort and stability. You can’t help but feel uncertain now that he’s becoming noticeably more affectionate.

When it comes to Solomon, you know nothing is ever what it seems. You deflect his flirting and dodge his wandering hands with shaky resolve while you try to piece together the truth behind his intentions. It would be so easy to give into the temptation, to let him guide you down another new path in your relationship, but you don’t want to risk heartache later if your assumptions about his feelings for you are incorrect.

Solomon pushes his chair away from the table abruptly and it shakes you from your thoughts. He collects some of the books into his arms and he heads towards the towering wall of shelves behind you.

“I’ll put these away so you can take a short break before we begin today’s lesson,” he offers. He must be in a good mood because he’s humming cheerfully while he returns his books to their proper places.

You’re about to escape to the kitchen to make tea for both of you when he makes a questioning noise. As though he senses your curious gaze on his back, he says without turning around, “I left one of the books on the table. Would you be a dear and hand it to me?”

It’s the smallest book you were given to read after yesterday’s lesson, pushed out of the way early on once he was satisfied you had absorbed its contents. You reach for it but it seems to slide out from under your fingers and further away across the table. You frown and lean forward with your hand stretched out as far as you can manage. Your palm smacks against bare wood as the book slides away yet again.

In one last-ditch effort, you’re on the tips of your toes and nearly flat against the table; you grin triumphantly when you finally have the cover trapped under your fingertips. Your victory is short-lived when an unexpected weight brushes against your back. It causes you to jerk suddenly and the book slips from under your tentative hold. You groan in frustration when it falls over the other side of the table and flops onto the floor.

“I’ve wanted to bend you over my desk like this for days,” a low voice whispers into your ear. 

You’re stunned when you realize Solomon is standing behind you, leaning over you and resting his palms on the table so his arms cage your body in place. You can feel the heat of his body against your back, but he’s not quite touching you. It doesn't matter if he's touching you or not - you're still trapped beneath him.

“You were moving the book on purpose,” you mumble in embarrassment. Your mouth is dry and your cheeks burn when you realize the suggestive position you’re both in. You can’t turn to look at him without bumping against his chest so you hang your head in defeat instead.

It’s not the first time you’ve fallen for one of his tricks and it won't be the last.

One of Solomon’s hands strokes your hip and you try not to squirm. “It was an amusing game at first,” he admits and you know from his tone that he’s smiling. You feel his chest press against your back when he moves closer. His nose is in your hair, and you hear him breathe in deeply. His exhale is a sigh that tickles your ear. “But now that I have you like this, I’m not willing to let you go so easily.”

You try to ignore the hand that’s slowly making its way under your shirt. “Maybe we should talk about this first,” you suggest, but your voice is shaking and your protest sounds weak.

Solomon tuts disapprovingly like your suggestion is barely worth responding to. His fingers make their way across your waist and follow the slope of your belly, squeezing the soft folds of skin with the tiniest bit of pressure that sets your nerves ablaze.

Every time you start to doubt why he’s attracted to you, he distracts you - with murmured desires in your ear, his fingers searching for the places on your body that are most sensitive - and you know he’s doing it on purpose to prove his point.

He continues exploring your chest, rubbing over the pact marks etched into your skin like his touch can erase them. He doesn’t care that his body is littered with the evidence of his own pacts, but jealousy makes his blood boil when he thinks about others having a claim over you. Mine, he thinks when he gives into the temptation to grind against you, letting you feel your effect on him, the way his feelings for you rob him of nearly all self-control.

“Solomon, please—” you plead desperately; whether you want him to keep going or to stop is impossible to say at this point. You’re drowning in the heat of his body so close to yours, the frustration you can feel radiating from him in waves, the possessive hold he has on you.

“You’re mine,” he seethes between gritted teeth, crushing your body to his as he continues to move against you. His hands are exploring freely now, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to bruise, kneading your soft flesh in apology after. He nips at your throat and drags his teeth against your shoulder. He bites down harder than he intends when he hears the first soft, breathy whimper escape you.

When you finally start to move, pushing your hips back against his, it rips a guttural moan from him and snaps the last tethers of his restraint. There’s a hand fisted in your hair and he pulls your mouth towards his. It’s less of a kiss and more of a heated exchange of needy, panting breaths as your quiet moans echo his own desperate sounds. He manages to draw your bottom lip into something resembling a kiss - the first kiss between you - and it gives you a moment of clarity.

“Not here,” you plead against his lips with the last bit of coherency you can muster. You’ve imagined what it might be like to finally give in to him, but you don’t want your first time together to be on an old, uncomfortable desk in his library. 

He seems to understand exactly what it is you want - like he always does -  because his body stutters to a halt and he presses a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth. He moves back enough to turn you around in his arms, and the lustful haze that darkens your eyes makes him powerless to resist you. He pulls you against him and he feels your hands clench in the back of his shirt like you’re afraid he’ll disappear. He brushes his lips against yours, a silent promise that he’s never going to let you go.

“Next time,” he teases with a wicked grin before teleporting you both to his bedroom with an audible pop.

read more: solomon masterlist | obey me masterlist

[dollyhoon]

# 𝖥𝗈𝗋𝖻𝗂𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 ⋅ ˚₊ ‧ ୨ 𝑁.𝑟𝑘

War. - Kissing,est.relationship ˚⊹♡ ִֶָ𓂃 wc: 750 ♡ afab!reader !! 🌸 ── angst,drabble && oneshot ARCHiVE 𓈃 ★

• The air felt thick with tension as you stood as you stood outside the old theater,its decaying exterior crumbling like the resolve you promised you'd maintain. It was late—too late for anyone to be here. Yet,you couldn't help but be drawn back to this place,the only place you could see him.

"Y/N",a voice called out,soft and careful,as if afraid to disturb the silence that hung between you two. Riki stepped forward,his face illuminated by the dim glow of the streetlamp. His dark brown eyes met yours,filled with the same intensity they always had whenever he saw you.

Your heart quickened at the sight of him. Riki looked the same as ever. Perfect—impossibly perfect. His dark hair fell loosley around his face,his expression a mixture of yearning and caution. It wasn't supposed to be like this,this was never supposed to happen.

"You came." He whispered,he whispered,taking a step closer,his hand reaching out to touch your arm,the warmth of his skin instantly setting your skin on fire.

You nodded,swallowing hard. "I shouldn't have riki."

"I know Y/N," he murmered,his voice full of regret and something deeper–something that mirrored the conflict in your own heart. "But you did,and so did I."

For a moment,neither of you spoke. The sound of the city seemed distant,drowned out by the pounding in your chest. Every nerve in your body was on high alert,aware of the thin line you were walking on. You weren't supposed to be here. You weren't supposed to be meeting like this.

Your family had made it clear: Riki was off-limits. There were boundaries—unspoken rules–and you had been raised to respect them. His family and yours were tangled in a history that neither of you could change,a web of old rivalries and broken promises that had kept you apart for years. Seeing him,being with him—it was dangerous. But that never seemed to matter. Not when he looked at you like the way he is now,like your the only girl in the world.

"I can't keep doing this." You whispered,though the words felt hollow,as of you were trying to convince yourself more than him. Riki's hand tightened around yours,his thumb brushing gently against your skin. "Neither can I."

He pulled you closer,his breath ghosting over your ear as he spoke, "But i can't stay away from you either."

You closed your eyes,trying to shut out the reality if it all,but it was no use. His presence was overwhelming,intoxicating,and all you could think about was how it felt so wrong for something so right to be forbbiden.

"What if they find out?" You asked,your voice barely a whisper.

"They won't," he replied quickly,but the uncertainty was there. He couldn't promise that. Neither of you could.

Still,the chemistry between you was undeniable,it was as if some invisible force kept dragging you back to eachother despite the danger,despite the consequences. The thrill of it,the secrecy,only made it more intense,but it also made ot harder.

Your eyes met his,and for a brief moment,everything seemed to melt away. The weight of your families,the expectaions,the whispered warnings—it all disspeared when he looked at you like that,like you were the only thing that mattered.

Riki cupped you face with his hands,his touch gentle,reverent. "I don't care what they say,i dont care what they want,they cant take this away from us."

"But they will." You breathed,your voice trembling, "Eventually,they will..."

His eyes darkened,filled with definance, "Then we'll fight it. We'll run,we'll hide—anything we have to do."

A soft laugh escaped your lips,although it was mixed with a tinge of sadness. "You make it sound so easy."

"It could be," he whispered,his lips against your forehead. "If you let."

You closed your eyes,savouring the feeling of being so close to him,wishing it could last forever. But you both knew it couldn't. Reality had a way of creeping in,reminding you that this love—this forbidden love—couldn't last.

"I love you." Riki murmured,his words so quiet that you almost thought you'd imgained them. But the way he said it,with so much raw emotion,left no room for doubt.

Your heart ached at his confession. You loved him too,more than you could ever put into words,but it didn't change anything. The world that you lived in wasn't made for a love like this.

"I love you too." You whispered,your voice breaking.

He leaned down,his lips hovering just above yours. "Then stay. Stay with me."

The temptation was overwheling,but you knew better. You pulled back,your heart shattering with the movement. "I can't. Not like this."

Riki's expression crumbled,his hands dropping to his sides as the weight of reality finally settled in.

And in that moment you both knew—no matter how much you loved eacother,somethings were never meant to be.

★ - @icyy-hoon , @yuvany , @cupidriki , @jakesangel , @zvouyage

[florawrites-blog]

It all started with a deal.

No emotions. No attachments. Just a bit of fun and company in the late hours. Jay was every bit the gentleman, respectful of the boundaries you set. He was calm, composed, and always took care of things without crossing the line. You appreciated that about him, his quiet dominance—something that never screamed control, but rather, a gentle guidance that made you feel secure. He didn’t smother you; he just knew how to be there.

You didn’t expect to feel anything beyond the surface. But slowly, things began to shift.

It happened so subtly that you couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment you began falling for him. Maybe it was the way he’d bring you your favorite coffee without asking, or the way his fingers would linger a second too long when he brushed a strand of hair from your face. And Jay… well, he started falling first, though he hid it well. You noticed the way he looked at you—like he was seeing something beyond what you showed him. He became a bit more protective, a bit more dominant in ways that made your heart race.

It was during one of those colder nights that you got sick. You tried to push through it, ignoring the weakness in your body, but Jay noticed right away. He didn’t ask; he insisted. He made you stay over at his apartment, not taking no for an answer.

“You’re staying here,” he had said firmly, already leading you inside, his hand on your lower back. You argued, reminded him about the deal, about the fact that you weren’t supposed to be involved like this. But Jay didn’t care. “Don’t argue. You need rest, and I’ll feel better knowing you’re here.”

With a frustrated sigh, you eventually relented. His apartment was quiet, a reflection of him—minimalistic, but warm. Before he left, he handed you one of his white blouses. “Wear this if you’re uncomfortable,” he said, his voice low and a bit softer than usual. You took it, not really thinking much about it, until later that night.

You found yourself alone in his apartment, your body wrapped in his oversized blouse, the fabric carrying his scent. The sleeves hung past your hands, and for some reason, it made you feel… safe. As you wandered around, feeling the cool air brush against your bare legs, you realized something was changing between the two of you. Something deeper than you were willing to admit.

Later that night, after you had finally drifted into sleep on his couch, Jay came back. The door clicked shut softly, and he stepped inside, his movements quiet. He paused when he saw you, lying there in his shirt, hair splayed across the cushion, your lips parted slightly as you slept. For a moment, he just stood there, admiring the scene in front of him. The faint moonlight from the window cast a glow over your sleeping figure, and Jay’s heart swelled with something he couldn’t deny any longer.

He didn’t wake you. Instead, he just watched, leaning against the doorframe, the urge to reach out and touch you almost overwhelming. But he resisted, knowing this was dangerous territory. He was already too far gone.

Things came to a head a few days later, during an argument neither of you saw coming.

“I can’t handle this, Jay,” you said, your voice sharp with frustration. “You’re giving me too much affection, too much attention. We had a deal, remember?”

Jay didn’t respond right away. He just stood there, looking at you, his gaze intense and unwavering. His silence made you even more flustered. You expected him to argue, to push back, to defend himself. But he didn’t. Instead, he just stepped closer, his eyes locking with yours, so deep and unreadable that it made your breath catch.

“Say something,” you demanded, trying to keep your voice steady.

But he didn’t. He just nodded, the tiniest movement, like he understood. Like he knew exactly what you were feeling, even if you didn’t.

And that’s when it hit you. Whatever you said wouldn’t stop him. Jay was hooked—more than you realized, more than you even were. His actions spoke louder than any argument you could have. He wasn’t going to stop caring for you, wasn’t going to stop being there, even if it scared the both of you.

Because, deep down, you knew—he was far more hooked on you than you were on him.

[winchesterwild78]

Rekindled pt 2

Master List

Characters: Russell Shaw x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, light smut….nothing too bad….yet 😉

A/N: I haven’t written a Russell fic yet and with him coming back to Tracker I wanted to test it out. Just a quick story about him. Written fast and edited fast. Maybe a few chapters.

All work is my own, used characters from the show Tracker, but this does not follow the story 

Minors DNI 18+

You and Russell said your goodbyes, and you promised to text him later with the time and place to meet you and your son. Your heart was still pounding in your chest and you were terrified he was going to hurt you and your son. 

You called your mom to get her advice. “Hey mom, do you have a few minutes to chat?” “Yes, honey. Russell is sleeping, so I’m free. Are you okay, you sound upset?” “Um, I’m not sure honestly. I ran into Russell and told him about Jr. He wants to meet him, told me it was up to me and I agreed. I don’t know what to do. I want Jr to know his dad, but on the other hand I’m terrified Russell is going to break our hearts again. I can’t do that to Jr.” “I understand honey, but you have to do what’s best for Jr. If Russell wants to be in his life, you should give him the chance. Even if you set boundaries with the two of you, it would be good for Jr to get to know his father if that’s what Russell really wants.”

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, “Yeah, Russell really wants to be in his life. I just don’t know where it would leave us. I’m still in love with him, mama.” “Oh sweetheart, I know you are. I would say just take it slow. Let him be in Jr’s life, and see where things go. You two are older and it sounds like Russell really wants to be in your lives. I appreciate he’s leaving the decision up to you. That shows maturity.” You sighed because you knew she was right. “Yeah, I just don’t know what to feel. As soon as I saw him all the love and hurt came rushing back. I want what we had, the life we promised each other.” 

Your mother took a deep breath, “Honey, you can’t get back what the two of you had. It’s gone, both of you have grown and matured. The two of you have to focus on your son, and building something new. I don’t know what that’s going to look like, only you two can figure that out. However, if you want my opinion it sounds like there is still love there, on both of your parts, the two of you have a lot to work out, but if you both genuinely love each other then you’ll have no problem building something new, stronger than before.” “Thanks, mama. I love you. I’ll be home soon.” “I love you too, baby girl. I’ll see you soon.”

You: Hey, can you meet Jr and I at the park in about an hour?

Russell: Of course I can. Thank you.

You: You’re welcome. He’s napping right now, so he shouldn’t be cranky. 😂

Russell: Well he’s definitely related to me. I tend to get a little cranky. 😁

You: Oh I remember. 😉

Russell: I clearly remember someone being cranky when she hasn’t had her coffee or food. 😜

You: You know what, that’s not very nice. Everyone gets cranky without coffee or food. 🤣

Russell: True, but not like you. Speaking of which, wanna grab dinner tonight? Just the three of us?

You looked at your phone and your heart fluttered. The weight of his question pressing down on you. It was a simple question, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that bubbled in your chest. This wasn’t just dinner. It was the first dinner the three of you would share together as a family. 

You: Sure, that sounds great. I know after Jr plays he’s going to be hungry.

Russell: Great! I can’t wait to see you two. 

You: I’m looking forward to it.

Russell: I want you to know I really appreciate you letting me meet him. If you’re more comfortable telling him I’m a friend right now, I’m okay with that. I want you to be comfortable with this and I don’t want to overwhelm him. 

You stared at your phone. How can he be so sweet?! Most men would be fighting tooth and nail to tell the child he was the father, but not Russell. His only concern is our son’s comfort and mine. Damn Russell, making me fall in love with you all over again. 

You: I appreciate that, Russell. You have no idea what that means to me. We will figure it out, I promise. I want him to know who you are. You both deserve that.

Russell: 💚

As you drove home your mind and heart raced. He’d hurt you before, but everything he did was to protect you. How could you be sure he wouldn’t do it again? It wasn’t just you anymore, Jr. was a big part of this now. He was your priority. 

Pulling into the driveway you saw your mom and toddler running around playing. When you got out of the car Jr ran to you. “Mommy. I missed you!” His little arms stretched wide. “Oh I missed you too, baby. Were you good for Nana?” He shook his head yes and smiled.

Your mom walked over and pulled you into a hug. “I know everything is going to work out, Y/N.” You nodded. “Hey baby, how about you and I go to the park and then out to dinner. I have someone I want you to meet.” “Yay, park. Nana go too?” He looked at your mother with his big green eyes. Your mom spoke up, “No, Nana is tired so she’s going to stay here. I’ll see you later and you can tell me all about the park and dinner.” Jr shook his head with understanding. 

About thirty minutes later you were changed and loading Jr into his carseat. Your mom hugged you, “It’s going to be fine, baby. I truly believe that. Russell seems to be putting both of you first. That’s a great place to start. Whatever you decide, I'll support you.” “Thank you, mama. I’m scared. I’m still in love with him and I know he’s going to be amazing with Jr.” Your mom touched your face, “I know you are, and I know he will be. Just take it slow.” You nodded and climbed in the car.

Driving towards the park Jr was in the back singing and giggling. “Mama, I love you.” You smiled, “I love you too, baby. So much.” He giggled and was swinging his legs. Looking in the mirror at your son, your heart fluttered. Every time you looked at him you saw Russell. 

Pulling into the parking lot of the park, you saw Russell standing leaning against his car. You playfully rolled your eyes and smirked. Your toddler was in the backseat squealing with delight, “Park! Park!” You laughed, “Yes baby, we’re here.”

Putting the car in park, you grabbed your bag and opened the backseat. Russell walked towards the car as you got Jr out. “Hey sweetheart.” You heard from behind you. As you pulled your son out you turned and saw Russell standing behind you holding two coffees. You smiled. Jr looked up at Russell and his eyes went wide. ���Hey Russell. I see you have coffee.” He smirked, “Yeah, I didn't want you cranky.” He winked at you. 

Jr watched the two of you in silence. His big green eyes took in Russell and glanced at you. “Mama, he has my name.” Your breath caught in your throat. Looking at your son and over at Russell you were at a loss of words. 

Russell stepped closer, “Well, sounds like you’ve got a pretty good name then. I’m your mama’s friend. I knew her when she was younger. It’s nice to meet you, Russell.” Russell extended his hand to your toddler and your eyes thanked him. He nodded and smiled at you. Jr took his hand and shook it while his other arm clung to your neck.

The three of you walked towards the playground. It was pretty empty with the exception of a family of four. You put your son down and he took off towards the swings. You laughed, “Not too fast baby. I don’t want you to fall.” You looked over at Russell and saw a smile on his face.

When the two of you arrived at the swings, you placed your son in one and started to push him. His giggles filled the air between you three. You took in a breath and let it out, touching Russell’s arm, “Thank you for that. I wasn’t expecting him to pick up on your names that quickly.” Russell smiled, “He’s a smart kid. Must take after his mama, and you’re welcome. I know this is all new. It will work out, we’ll figure it out together.” 

After a few minutes on the swing Jr wanted to run around so you pulled him out of the swing and put him down. He started running up and down the equipment while you and Russell watched him. 

Russell was laughing and following him around. Your heart filled with love when you saw Jr take Russell’s hand and lead him through the maze of equipment. Pulling out your phone you snapped some pictures of the two of them together. 

The sound of Jr and Russell laughing filled the air. Seeing Russell interact with your son made your heart flutter. As the afternoon wore on Jr was getting tired and hungry. 

“Alright boys, it’s time to go eat dinner.” You said as Russell scooped Jr up in his arms. Jr threw his arms around Russell’s neck and Russell looked over at you and smiled. 

He carried Jr to the car and put him in his car seat. Once he shut the door he turned, looked at you and smiled. “He’s incredible, Y/N. You’ve done an amazing job with him. I never expected to fall in love with him so quickly. Thank you for letting me meet him.” He cupped your face and your heart beat wildly. You looked into his eyes, bit your lip and inched closer to his lips. 

“Can I kiss you?” You asked softly. Russell didn’t say a word, he just pulled you close and softly kissed your lips. All of the anger, hurt and pain from the past few years melted away. 

The two of you pulled away and stood in silence. “I’ve been wanting to do that again since I saw you earlier.” Russell whispered against your lips. 

Giggles from the car pulled your attention away. “Guess we should go feed our son.” You smiled as you looked at Russell. “Yeah, we don’t want him cranky like his mama.” Russell winked at you. You playful slapped his chest. 

A few minutes later you were pulling in the parking lot of the local diner. Russell came over to your car and helped get Jr out. He grabbed your hand as he carried Jr into the restaurant. This felt right. It felt like home. 

Once the three of you were sitting at the table Jr kept looking over at Russell. He would color on his mat, then look over at Russell. You and Russell shared quick glances, then you asked Jr if he was okay. “Sweetie, are you okay?” Your son looked at you and nodded. “Mama, he looks like me.” He pointed at Russell when he said it. Your breath hitched and a lump formed in your throat. 

You took your toddler’s hand and took in a shaky breath. Your eyes flicked up and met Russell’s. “Well, honey, the reason he looks like you and you two have the same name is because he’s your daddy.” Your heart beat faster in your chest while you waited for your son’s response. 

Jr looked at you and then over at Russell. 

“You’re my daddy?” His sweet soft voice replied. Russell looked at him with so much love in his eyes and nodded yes. A hush fell over the table. Then your son squealed with delight, clapping his hands and swinging his legs. He reached for Russell, who stood and pulled him out of the high chair into his arms. Your heart leaped in your chest as Russell held your son in his arms. 

When the food arrived the three of you ate and talked. As the night wore on, Jr was getting sleepier. You pulled him out of the high chair and laid him beside you in the booth. You and Russell continued talking about the past few years. He asked about the pregnancy, and how the birth went. You told him your mom was with you every step of the way and was at the hospital when he was born. 

His hands fell softly on yours and held them on top of the table. You noticed the diner was starting to clear out. “Well we better get this little guy home, and let them close up.” You said, glancing at the sleeping toddler beside you. 

Russell paid the bill and carried Jr to the car. Your son woke up briefly to see Russell carrying him and he snuggled into his chest more. Russell smiled softly at the toddler in his arms. He never knew love could feel like this. So pure, real and complete. 

Russell put your son in the car and carefully closed the door. “I’ll follow you home, to help you get him inside if you don’t mind.” You touched his chest, “I don’t mind at all.” 

The two of you drove towards your house. The soft glow of the house cast shadows on the driveway. Putting the car in park you got out and grabbed your bag. Russell walked over and took his son in his arms. You could get used to seeing him carrying your son. You walked up to the door and it swung open. Your mom was standing there with a grin on her face when she saw Russell carrying his son. 

“His room is the second room on the right, at the top of the stairs.” Russell nodded and started to walk up the stairs. You followed behind him, glancing at your mom who was still grinning. Once in his room, you took off his shoes and pulled his blanket up to his chin. He turned and looked at the two of you sleepily, “Night mama.” “Night baby.” You placed a soft kiss on his forehead. “Night daddy.” You gasped softly. Russell smiled and leaned down, placing a kiss to the top of Jr’s head, “Night buddy. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

The two of you walked out of his room and you closed his door. Russell let out the breath he was holding and you noticed his eyes were filled with love and tears. You touched his biceps, “Russell, are you okay?” He ran his fingers through his hair, “No I’m not. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to let you walk away. I’ve missed 3 years of his life, of a life with you, I missed your pregnancy and you bringing our son into this world. I don’t expect you to forgive me, hell I know I don’t deserve it.” 

You cupped his face, “Russell, I do forgive you. You’re here now. That’s all that matters. That little boy in there loves you so much already. There is still so much you haven’t missed.” 

His eyes softened and he cupped your face. His lips crashed against yours in a needy, emotional kiss. As he pulled back he rubbed his thumb over your lips, “God I missed you. I love you so much, Y/N.” “I love you too, Russell. We have a lot to talk about, but for now all that matters is our son.” 

He nodded and the two of you walked downstairs together. Your mom saw you two and walked over to Russell. “It’s good to see you Russell. I guess it came as quite a shock to find out you had a son.” “It’s good to see you too, Ms Y/L/N, and yes ma’am it was, but it’s something I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to be worthy of.” 

She hugged him and he leaned down and hugged her. She whispered in his ear “She’s missed you more than she’ll admit and she’s still deeply in love with you. Don’t screw it up or you’ll have to answer to me.” He smiled at her, “I’m deeply in love with her too, and I wouldn’t dream of it. Her and Jr are it for me.” 

Your mother told both of you good night and hugged you, then went upstairs. 

As a quietness fell over the room you and Russell sat on the couch. The two of you snuggled together on the couch as a movie played on the tv. Russell shared stories about his life and you showed him pictures of your son. You even showed him some of you pregnant. His fingers traced the photo and he sighed. 

You touched his hand softly. “It’s okay. I had mama. I wasn’t alone, we weren’t alone.” “I know, but it’s still hard. I’m a fool to have let you walk away. I pushed you away and left you alone.” 

You’re not sure what came over you but you got up, put the photo album down and straddled his lap. Cupping his face in your hands, “Russell Shaw, you stop that right now! You’re an incredible man and I know you’re going to be an incredible father to our son. I don’t care what happened before. It’s done and we can’t change it. All we can do is make a better future. If you’re truly sorry then don’t leave us, don’t leave him. Even if you don’t want to be with me, be there for him. Help me raise him to be an incredible man like his father. I love you, Russell Shaw. Now and forever.” You pulled him into a kiss and his hands ran up your spine and to your hair. Your body was on fire. 

You felt his arousal through his jeans. He deepened the kiss and you were melting into his arms. As things started to heat up you felt the need to be in his arms again. “Russell, I need you.” You moaned and his hands slid under your shirt, cupping your breasts. Your hips moved down, pulling a groan from his mouth. 

Your heart was pounding in your chest and you were ready for him to take you right there on the couch. Russell pulled away, “Baby as much as I want this, I think we should take it slow. I don’t want to screw this up again. You mean too much to me. Jr means too much to me.” Your heart ached for him, your body ached for him, but you knew he was right. 

You nodded and started to climb off of him. He grabbed your hand before you got up, “Y/N wait,” You looked at him and placed a soft kiss on his lips. “It’s okay Russell, you’re right. We really should take this slow. This isn’t just about us anymore, our son is the priority.” “He is, but so are we. I want to rebuild our relationship, one that’s stronger than before. One that is built on love and strength, not just physical attraction, but believe me I am still very attracted to you.” 

You chuckled softly, “I know you are.” 

Russell stood up and wrapped you in his strong arms. “Thank you for today, and thank you for letting me meet him. I still can’t believe he’s mine, ours.” “Don’t make me regret it, Russell, please.” He cupped your face, “Sweetheart, I promise I won’t.” 

The two of you walked to the door and he stopped, pulled you into his arms and kissed you again. “Good night, sweetheart. I’ll call you in the morning if that’s okay.” “That’s more than okay. I know a little boy who would love it actually.” “Well then I guess I better come by for breakfast. I’ll bring the doughnuts.” Russell laughed. 

You chuckled, “Russell, please don’t load our son up with sugar.” “Aww come on, let me bring him a doughnut, I’ll bring you coffee.” He fluttered his eyes at you and you smirked. “Fine, but you get to deal with the sugar high and crash.” Russell laughed, “Deal. Sounds like a win win. I get to bring him doughnuts and spend the day with both of you.” He kissed you one last time and winked as he stepped off the porch.

“Good night, Russell. Be careful and I’ll see you in the morning.” He turned as he got to the bottom step, “Good night, Y/N. See you in the morning, sweet dreams darlin’.”

You stood on the porch watching him walk to his car and get in. Watching him drive away your heart was full of so much love. You bit your lip with a smile on your face. For the first time in 3 years you felt like things were starting to fall into place. You were equal parts scared and excited, and the only thing you were sure of was how much love was still between you and Russell. 

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[scorchingbread]

Grim x gn!reader who isn't keen on physical touch

(Gender of reader isn't mentioned)

Cw: sexual scenarios discussed, handjobs,dislike of physical touch being talked about in depth + it's worries. Please let me know if I missed anything :)

MINORS + AGELESS BLOGS DNI I'M TIRED OF BLOCKING YOU

Spoiler: grims name, ending 3

(I totally didn't base this off of my own feelings whatsoever... Psh what?)

842 words

You were laying in bed facing the ceiling with Casper laying beside you. You just couldn't help but think about yesterday when you decided to go all of the way with him. It wasn't that you weren't attracted to him or didn't feel any desire, but you couldn't help but shake the feeling that it was... Uncomfortable. You never really liked being touched and you thought that maybe this time with someone you really loved that maybe it would be different, but it wasn't. The worst part is that you enjoyed him being happy and getting satisfied, and you don't want to take that away but you can't just set aside your own feelings for that.

"Sunshine, are you okay?" You snap out of your thoughts and turn to see Casper facing you with a worried look on his face.

"I just..." You sit up and pause for a second. Is it really okay to bring up? Would it hurt him? Would he take it the wrong way? Screw it. He's given up being a grim reaper and is in hiding just for you, so maybe... maybe he would actually understand since he knew you had built up the courage so far for physical affections. "I was thinking about last night, and I have some... Complications."

"What about last night?" He raises an eyebrow and still has a look of worry on his face. Casper sits up as well and turns to face you completely, having his full attention.

"Well.... The thing is... Oh how do I go about this." You trust him, but it's just so hard to put your feelings into words. "I didn't really enjoy it. The sex... It's not that I don't like your or am not attracted to you, I am, it's just... It was too overwhelming and uncomfortable. I liked seeing you satisfied, but I don't know if I could put myself through it again." You look at him worried about what his reaction might be to this information.

"Sunshine..." He brushes some of you hair out of your face. "I'm glad you told me. It's okay. You love me and am attracted to me, so that's all I can ask for. I wouldn't want you to do something you're uncomfortable with just for my own pleasure." You can't help but feel emotional. It just felt so nice to hear those words.

"T-thank you. That means a lot actually. I don't know what exactly I expected you to say, but it truly means a lot to me. Normally I have people push my boundaries or not believe that I could be uncomfortable from touch, but you've been very understanding." Casper frowns when he hears what happens to you when discussing boundaries with other people and he sighs.

"You shouldn't have to thank me for being understanding... I'm your boyfriend after all. A thousand curses on the people who treated you that way in the past." By the look on his face you can tell he is definitely trying to curse those people from your past. "So tell me... Just so everything is clear, what 𝘢𝘳𝘦 you comfortable with sunshine?"

"Well... I like your kisses and hugs, and I'm fine with touching you myself... I liked when you held onto me too, but full on sex? That was just too much for me to handle." You lay it all out for him, it's best that he knows how you feel especially since he actually cares to know. "But the problem is that I still want you to be able to have pleasure in our relationship. I don't want it to feel like I'm taking away something from you."

"Sunshine..." He pauses for a second. "Though you don't have to. If you are 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘭𝘺 worried about this I'm sure we could come up with something that would still be comfortable for you."

"Really?"

"Yes. You said you don't mind touching me yourself?"

"That's right... Oh maybe... Just maybe... That might work." Suddenly you had an idea. One that would fulfill both of you in this situation. "Say what if... What if we stuck to me giving you hand jobs. You could sit in front... And I could wrap my arms around you. Or o could even sit in front of you, if you wanted me to get a nice view?" Suddenly your mind is wondering to the possible scenarios. It's a simple solution and one that you wish you could have thought of sooner.

"That sounds..." You could see the blush creeping onto Casper's face and he brings up his hand to try and hide his embarrassment. "I like the sound of that. I'm glad we could... Figure this out so to say."

[aangelinakii]

YOUNG JUSTICE LOVE LANGUAGES.

characters written about in this piece : conner kent, wally west, kaldur'ahm, m'gann m'orzz, artemis crock

not proofread !

note : if you're looking for dick grayson, as he was a member of young justice ( obvi ) he and the other batfam members are written about in this post ! <3

CONNER KENT — quality time

i can't see conner as an overly (physically) affectionate person, as his other stronger emotions are often more evident within him. he doesn't feel comfortable with physical touch; he's been through a lot, just not his kind of thing. he has a lot of suppressed rage, so doesn't know how to express himself through words in a charming way, poor guy. so i think he finds quality time most peaceful. he can control the boundaries of it; how close you are together, how long you spend it together, what you guys do. obviously he is receptive to your boundaries, too, but he feels most at peace just being in silence and spending time together, even if just doing separate things but in the presence of one another.

his favourite ways to spend quality time : doing separate things, like chores or hobbies, whilst in the same room , cooking together , reading the same book, nodding when you've finished the page so he can turn to the next one , sparring or working out together

WALLY WEST — physical touch && words of affirmation

the way i see wally, he's quite a casually touchy person, implementing physical touch into daily situations with his friends and loved ones. he loves a good, even short, hug upon seeing someone, or a high five, handshake, dap-up with a friend. literally anything, he will take it in stride. i also think he can be quite hormonal and touch-starved, especially as a teenager, so he enjoys casual physical intimacy. i don't think there's a reason for this, he's just that type of person. loads of people are just touchy people, and that's okay.

he also is a talky person, can't shut up, won't ever shut up. sometimes the things he says can be a bit.. off putting, but we all know he's just a lovely guy. without realising, wally will give compliments, or give praise to those he loves. another love language of his is words of affirmation, done in a casual way, not meant to be taken seriously. but when he's in love, or crushing on someone, they're definitely meant to be taken more seriously.

favourite forms of physical intimacy : a hug when he sees you again , a high five after winning a team game , slinging an arm over your shoulder or around your waist as you walk side-by-side , legs tangled as you lay in bed watching a film together

words that he means : "you look so amazing right now" , "you did great!" , "you need to teach me that next time, i want to be just as good as you" , "you have the best smile. you know that, right?"

KALDUR'AHM — words of affirmation

he's reserved in a group setting, even with close friends, but i feel as though kaldur would be extremely romantic, but not outwardly so. he keeps his romantic gestures behind closed doors, away from prying eyes, meant only for the two of you. he doesn't show off, he has nothing to prove. but when it's just you two, he cherishes and adores to no end, but not in an overwhelming way; he knows his boundaries. i think he most likes to use words of affirmation to show affection. he has a great voice, just imagine him praising you and reassuring you. i feel like he also likes to receive affirming words, too, since often his motives are wrongfully questioned. he likes feeling trusted, and being shown that he is.

words that he means : "i'm so proud of you" , "i'm so lucky to have you in my life" , "the universe really took its time with you" , "i would choose you in every lifetime"

words that he appreciates : "do you know how handsome you are?" , "i trust you" , "you're so important to me, i hope you realise that" , "i feel so safe with you"

M'GANN M'ORZZ — acts of service ( && close proximity. )

m'gann is the type to feel like she needs to prove herself, even to those she loves; especially to those she loves. she wants to be enough, feel like enough, seem like enough. and so she tries to show her love, through acts of service. even something as small as picking lint off your clothes, to something as grand as making a whole roast dinner for you to come home to. part of her does these things out of hopes that she will receive the kind acts, too, but part of her does them because she wants to show you what love feels like, because she exists, and she is full of it.

i don't see her as an incredibly touchy person, but i feel that, because she is so positively consumed by a person when she falls in love with them, she just wants to be near them all the time. m'gann can be overly aware of boundaries, and doesn't want to do anything wrong to make anyone uncomfortable, so that's part of the reason why she isn't touchy, as well as her own preferences. but she absolutely adores close proximity, just being in the presence of the one she loves as much as she can be.

ways she likes to show her love : cooking you food , tying your shoelaces , taking off your makeup for you after a long day, if you wear it , starting your day with a warm cup of your favourite drink , peeling the skin off your satsumas

ARTEMIS CROCK — quality time

similar to conner, i don't see artemis as an incredibly touchy or affectionate person. she's private, as shown by the lengths she goes to in order to keep her family background a secret, and would want to keep any romantic relationship under wraps as much as she can. instead of showing her love through hugs or icky sweet words, artemis likes to share quality time with her significant other. she thinks it has a wide meaning; you can do pretty much anything with another person and call it "quality time." she likes that it's not too committal, and she feels like she can leave at any time (not that she would want to, but not that she would say that.)

her favourite ways to spend quality time : playing video games together (she's a naughtydog lover) , sitting in the car or on its hood eating something from your favourite food truck , stargazing , exercising together , calling you when she's on her way home

[welcomehomediscordserver]

(joking) CW: AGGRESSIVE SUPPORT AND LOVE FOR CLOWN FROM THE MOD TEAM AND MEMBERS OVER AT OUR DISCORD SERVER !!

I have found joy in your little show that I rarely find in things. The overwhelming love and care I have not just for these specific characters but for your art and talent as a whole is astounding. I want you to know that your community, the good parts of it, support you in any endeavor you choose to take. Although this project may have blasted your popularity you are 3-dimensional, you are much more than the creator of welcome home. You are a multi-medial, skilled, talented, and strong artistic being. Throughout all of this I have had nothing but the utmost respect for you. I will continue to no matter what. Just know we over at The Welcome Home discord server have been following your art closely and appreciating every detail! Do what is best for you clown, and continue to do so! -Reggie

It's been a while since something has grabbed me like this... Welcome Home is one of the most precious things I have ever seen, the creation has and will it always have a place in my heart. Thank You creator for sharing this piece of you heart with us. But your safety is more important, I hope that you'll be safe. -Jax

"dear clown, from the heart of one fan to many others, i find so much comfort in your project that i hope that even when things just like now are awful, you know that there's people simultaneously supporting you in every step of the way! We can wait however long you believe is necessary, you deserve to feel respected with your own passion project! And with that to a close, i wish you well! Thank you for giving us a grand welcome home!" -gremints

dear clown, you don't know me. i don't know you either. but everything you've been working on? it's changed my life. and i know that sounds cliche and silly, but it's true. you've inspired me to keep working on my own passion projects, to keep going. because of you, i have found a little community to call home. because of you, i have rekindled my love of silliness and color and creativity. i cannot thank you enough. without you, i would not have found the friends i have now. whatever you do, i want you to know that we're here to support it. and i hope that wherever you go, you also find home. - moth

Hi you dont know me but im Bug, one of the mods^^, I just want to start my message with this, Before I found welcome home, everything for me was going downhill, I had lost so much that was important to me in less than 2 weeks, I couldn't get out of bed and I wasn't doing my favorite things anymore. I couldn't even smile, My eyes were tired and heavy from crying. But thanks to you, Clown. Wonderful you..and your beautiful vibrant creation. With characters I saw and adored right away. I've smiled, danced, sang my favorite songs again, met new and amazing friends & began to draw again. I felt happiness faster than I thought I would again. A peace from your life helped heal some of mine and I'm grateful. Your creations bring me and so many others joy, But even then it as not as important as you. Yes It brings many smiles to people and i hope that doesn't sound to overwhelming.. But although we can't fix the issue people have caused you, we can't apologize for those who don't respect the boundaries you've set and we can't take back what others have done we want you to know that no matter what, the good of the community will always Have what's best for you in mind, in our server we make sure all rules are followed and you're privacy and mental health is respected. Take as much time as you need to take it all in, relax, do what's best for clown. 💚 take care of yourself before aything else. We thank you for all you've done already. -Boogerbug

EVERYTHING BELOW WAS SUBMITTED BY MEMBERS !!

Hi Clown! Just another rando passing through! While I have known about your artwork for a few years now, I never dove into it until Welcome Home became popular, and I genuinely love the vision you have. Your other artwork is also phenominal and genuinely inspires me, and it always has, even before I discovered the Welcome Home website. Your character designs are impeccable, the way you portray the muppets is genuinely awesome and brings back a lot of good memories, as I grew up watching puppet shows. Explains one reason I enjoy your work doesn't it?Despite making godly artwork, people forget that you are a human like the rest of us. Most people who become famous or popular because of something they have done experience this and it is unfortunate, but there are some of us that know you have a life and are already struggling. Take the time you need to rejuvinate yourself and try not to let these people get to you, as hard as it is to do, as even I still struggle with this daily. These are your creations, and you deserve to have control over what happens with them, and the disrespect this slowly growing fanbase has for your requests is terrible. Hoping that things eventually improve on your end, especially since you already aren't in a safe environment, something I also understand. I've already planned on throwing some bucks at you through Ko-Fi once I open my new bank account, and even if I cant, I still want to help prove that you are worthy and deserve better than this. You are incredibly talented and I hope to see Welcome Home and all of your other works of art flourish over time! - Sunnie/Mizo

Now onto the big reveal....

Our server members as well as a few mods all banded to together to create a collage showing our appreciation and support for Clown during these rough times. I hope this can serve as a reminder that despite the shitty people out there, there is a large community who still very much respects and enjoys every aspect of Clowns artwork.

An art collage put together by the moderators with art submitted by members.

Below are more signages as well as the usernames of everyone who participated:

Micah

Maximus

Beans

Wynn

Avery

Global

Vinnzhe

- and lastly, the rest of the welcome home discord server 🩷

@partycoffin

[meowmarkie]

nct dream as yearning songs

a/n! This is for funzies only! I don’t know any of them personally so I’m only comparing and linking their behavior shown through videos with the behavior of those I know in real life (me included). And also, If you haven’t listened to any of these songs, PLEASE give them a listen bc I feel like it’ll help you guys better understand my vision :)

Mark - End Of Beginning, Djo

Just one more tear to cry, one teardrop from my eye

You better save it for

The middle of the night when things aren't black and white

Enter, Troubadour

"Remember 24?"

Mark’s always talking about finally beginning a project whenever he’s with the dreamies, so I always get reminded of this song (that’s not the only reason tho) once the “is it really starting this time?” teasing commences — even though it might pass as a “funny” quirk, the need to establish out loud that they are “restarting” or finally starting things as if from scratch, might be because of something deeper. Mark seems like the kind of guy who works hard and reminisces about his past, especially when it comes to where it all (ironically) started. He works so hard and is almost never relaxing or taking a vacation, he says he’s fine, but since I'm a workaholic as well, I can tell you guys that we always end up breaking down because of how much stuff we’re doing. So, in those overwhelming moments, I can imagine Mark looking back to when he was in Canada, being able to rest and take in all the small pleasures the world can offer, not having to worry about his image, his feelings, his needs or if he’s “korean enough” to be working as an idol (idk about you guys, but that distinction between being a pure korean vs a mixed korean would drive me insane. I’d be so upset to always have to prove myself and prove that part of my nationality), reminiscing about the times when he was full of dreams, peace, and most importantly, energy.

You take the man out of the city, not the city out the man

Renjun - Abstract (Psychopomp), Hozier

See how it shines

Renjun is a very simple and honest man; he knows what he likes, what he doesn’t and knows how to set up his boundaries. However, he’s really sensible when it comes to life (in ALL its meanings), which is why I’m reminded of this song whenever I think of him. I’m grateful for all the things Renjun has shared with us, such as his mental health, hobbies and just his personality in general. Abstract is a song that shows how much its “subject” is sensible, brave (for jumping into traffic in order to rescue the dying/already dead animal) and never seems to catch a break, while the one singing (in this case, Hozier) can only take in the sight, not being able to do anything to help. In this analogy, Renjun is the subject and his friends/family/fans are Hozier, y’all. I feel like he strives to protect those he loves, and yearns for their well being when he can’t do anything to help.

(it was tough to choose just a small part of the song, when in fact, in my opinion, the whole thing describes him so well)

The speed that you moved

The screech of the cars

The creature still moving

That slowed in your arms

The fear in its eyes

Gone out in an instant

Your tear caught the light

The Earth from a distance

Jeno - Yes To Heaven, Lana Del Rey

If you go, I'll stay

You come back, I'll be right here

Like a barge at sea

In the storm, I stay clear

We’ve got ourselves a lover boy! No surprises there, I think. Even though this song comes from a female point of view, I think it still describes Jeno really well. Getting back on track, I feel like this suits him given the fact that when he likes someone, he likes someone — if he feels strongly like that, it’s even more intense when it comes to his loved ones, hence the song. Jeno would do anything in the world for his partner, and that includes fighting for them, to keep them by his side even if things get incredibly tough. 

His reason to yearn would be his person, before he even managed to win them over. Jeno would yearn for a life next to his loved one, for their acceptance and approval of him — nothing would make him happier than hearing a yes from his lover.

Say yes to Heaven

Say yes to me

Haechan - Gilded Lily, Cults

Now it's been long enough to talk about it

I've started not to doubt it, just wrap my head around it

I remember when you told me it's an everyday decision

But with my double vision, how was I supposed to see the way?

This boy is one of the most hard-working human beings on earth, methinks. Because he’s always giving, exposing and donating parts of himself to the world, not gaining anything back… The amount of hate and fake news he gets thrown at him is insane, being the reason why I always think of him when listening to this song. He has the biggest heart ever, and he pays the price for it every single day of his life. Haechan’s personality is bright and it should shine as much as it needs to, he might look overly confident but I wouldn’t doubt that in fact, he’s totally insecure about himself and about his skills, lost in the world yearning for appreciation. Gilded Lily suits him so much it actually pains me to make this connection anywhere other than my brain.

His hard work isn’t half as repaid as it should be. Some “fans” should be embarrassed to call themselves such when the first thing they do is to attack Hae.

Haven't I given enough, given enough?

Always the fool with the slowest heart

But I know you'll take me with you

We'll live in spaces between walls

Jaemin - Chemtrails Over The Country Club, Lana Del Rey

I'm on the run with you, my sweet love

There's nothing wrong contemplating God

Under the chemtrails over the country club

In another life, I believe that Jaemin could’ve been living peacefully in a suburb, white picket fences and all. This song is filled with nostalgia and the wish to run away with your loved one, which painfully reminds me of Jaemin. He’s the perfect man, the perfect gentleman even, so that’d make his partner want to elope with him. However, this image of him resides only in my (and now, your) imagination — that’s why I chose this song for him. Whenever I take in anything that Jaemin does, I can help but think about how I’d feel in his shoes: he had the plan to become a doctor, did charity work, played the piano, got good grades and was handsome. Having such high standards and some fondness towards the academic way of life, would I be 100% satisfied living an idol life? The answer is no, ergo my need to choose this song for him. If my hunch about Jaem is correct, he’d be yearning for the possibilities of having another life, especially when it comes to love. From what he has shown us, he wouldn’t be the type to voluntarily want to hide his loved one — I feel like he’d want to boast to the world about them.

I interpret this song as a life the singer would like to have had with their loved one, but couldn’t since the opportunity passed, and is now cursed to live forever with their “what ifs”.

My love, my love

Washing my hair, doing the laundry

Late night TV, I want you on me

Like when we were kids

Under chemtrails and country clubs

It's never too late, baby, so don't give up

Chenle - loml, Taylor Swift

If you know it in one glimpse, it's legendary

You and I go from one kiss to gettin’ married

Still alive killing time at the cemetery

Never quite buried

In your suit and tie, in the nick of time

You lowdown boy, you standup guy

You Holy Ghost, you told me I'm

The love of your life

I apologize in advance to all you Chenle stans out there for bringing this up, but… IT NEEDS TO BE SAID. He fits this song so much it’s actually insane. He doesn’t have many regrets in his life (as said by the man himself), so in a world in which he’d yearn, it’d definitely be because of love, hence why his song is loml. Chenle wouldn’t be able to get over his first love, leading to countless daydreaming sessions and longing sighs. He’d reminisce about his time with the person, over analyzing everything that was said and done, remembering even the smallest things the other person said he didn’t care about. Losing something makes you realize what that thing really meant, thus creating the eternal heartache of knowing that you took it for granted — despite all the fights and wrong-doings, Chenle would never be able to forgive himself for losing the person he loved.

His first love would stay with him forever, but as time goes by, they’d be only a soft memory instead of a lingering sadness.

Our field of dreams, engulfed in fire

Your arson's match, your somber eyes

And I'll still see it until I die

You're the loss of my life

Jisung - Brother, Kodaline

If I was dying on my knees

You would be the one to rescue me

And if you were drowned at sea I

'd give you my lungs so you could breathe

If there’s one quality I’d use to describe Jisung, It’d be loyalty. He’s extremely loyal towards his hyungs, and that’s why I chose this song for him. Once the dreamies weren’t a fixed unit, Jisung shared his fear of being alone, and without his older brothers by his side, he knew not of what the future had in store for him. Hence why the lyrics (this one in particular: When we were young, we were the ones // The kings and queens, oh yeah we ruled the world) and just the “desperate” vibes of the song scream Park Jisung. He loves the dreamies so much that losing them would be as devastating as losing one of his family members. We don’t get to see the clingy and soft side of Jisung as much as the boys do, but just because we as fans don’t experience it, doesn’t mean that they can’t feel it. 

There’s just not much to say besides that he loves his members to the point of sacrificing himself for them.

I’ve got you brother

The whole group - Home, Edith Whiskers ver.

We laugh until we think we'll die, barefoot on a summer night

Nothing new is sweeter than with you

I couldn’t do something like this without mentioning the dark period of when Mark was removed from the unit (sorry in advance <3), so here it is! Home would be their song from when they missed Mark, and kept reminiscing about their debut and previous comeback when their leader and older brother was still there with them. The song might come from a romantic point of view, but it’s just as fitting for a friend group, therefore making it perfect to describe the dreamie’s situation.

Losing someone important is awful, especially when that person is “removed” from your day-to-day life thanks to other people’s choices — it isn’t fair, and I’m sure the boys felt this way for a long period of time until they could shine again with Mark by their side. They’ve never been better and nct dream is now on the way to become even more powerful than before, and for that I’m incredibly proud of the children they were, who maintained themselves strong and brave throughout a heartbreaking moment. The dreamies deserve the best and my heart is at ease to see that their recognition is finally arriving. They are my home, and I’m sure they are your home as well :)

Oh, home, let me come home

Home is wherever I'm with you

[bagopucks]

T. Zegras - Stand By Me

✄————————————

Trevor Zegras x Reader, platonic Jamie involved in one bit.

Requested✨

Word Count: 2.2k

Warning(s); general angst, the reader has an auto immune disease called lupus, one mention of blood, sorta-kinda-maybe smut if you squint.. but like.. not really.

I did some research, but because I didn’t want to cross any boundaries and be too wrong, I didn’t go into much depth over anything. I listened to too much Billy Joel while writing this. I’ve decided Billy Joel love ballads go well with Trev.

—————————————

Trevor Zegras as the world knew him:

The aggressive, egotistical, hotshot hockey player. Rough and tumble, always mouthy. The loud, constantly moving, big expressions and huge personality kind of guy.

Trevor as I knew him:

A kind, gentle, considerate boy. Who made sure he set my pill organizer out for me every morning before he went to practice. Who made sure we were always stocked up on prescribed lotions and ice packs. And would spring up from the couch at the first sign of a fever. And learned how to cook on nights when I was in so much pain I could hardly move.

It took forever to get officially diagnosed with lupus. Trevor had been there from the beginning, when symptoms first began. At first, we hadn’t thought much of it. I passed off body aches for period or ovulation issues. I assumed the rashes were allergic reactions, and the fevers were just random waves of California heat. We had been oblivious. When things got worse, I began seeing a doctor.

Test after test had been run through. I was prescribed various medications, some of which helped and others didn’t. But the ones that did help, never lasted long. Eventually, it got to the point that Trevor feared leaving me home alone. Especially on the days he would wake up, and I would be unable to pull myself out of bed. I hated it. He hated it. We feared the unknown.

As much as it overwhelmed me, I knew it overwhelmed Trevor too. All the road trips, calling me, feeling horrible for leaving and saying how he wanted me to call somebody at home if I needed them. He was scared, but it was knowing he wasn’t in control that freaked him out. I assumed that’s why he became so observant and vigilant when we finally did get a diagnosis. Because at last, he could control things. Not everything, but some things.

Trevor hadn’t been home the day I got the diagnosis from my doctor, but it gave me time to really figure things out on my own. I knew little about the autoimmune disease, and as much as I loved Trevor, I knew his endless questions would only overwhelm me more than this new information already did. So I did my own research, allowed myself time to process and cry. Come to terms, and eventually begin working on a game plan for myself.

When Trevor did come home, it was a process of sitting him down on the couch and talking him through it all with everything organized on my laptop. Trevor tried so hard to understand, but I knew it would be a lot of trial and visual learning for him. And I had been right.

“So.. so, this is what you have?” He pointed to the computer screen. I nodded. “And.. it’s permanent?”

“Yeah, babe.” Trevor nodded. He tried to understand. What did autoimmune mean? What was Lupus? Why did it have to have so many big words attached to it?

“So.. where does all the treatment start?”

“Do you have to take medicines?”

“Are you gonna be okay?”

“We can still be together, right?”

“This is a lot.”

I answered most of the questions, at least the ones I knew answers to. The others I promised to answer when I knew what to say.

Trevor got so tense with himself when he was home. We used to be a pretty rambunctious couple, but after I got prescribed blood thinners, and the body aches got worse, a lot of that changed. Trevor became far more timid around me, and at first he was as gentle as a toddler when touching a newborn baby. I helped set the pace for what was okay and what wasn’t.

“T, lemme see that ribbon.” I reached across the living room floor. I tried to snatch up the red ribbon before his hand flew out to take it.

“Let me curl the ribbon.” Something I had always done during Christmases. But it involved open scissors.

“Trevor, it’s fine…”

“Yeah but.. what if you cut yourself? Just teach me how to do it.”

Outside and inside of the bedroom, we set paces together.

“Should I- maybe…” Trevor shifted, causing me to groan. Worst time to ask questions is when you’re already in somebody.

“Trevor.. you don’t have to be so gentle.” I reached up to rest a hand on his forearm. “Why don’t I take the lead this time?” He relented and turned us over. He feared hurting me even when he didn’t do much.

“I’ll be fine, okay? Just pay attention. I promise I’ll tell you if it ever hurts, or if something is wrong.”

I’d always told Trevor that he did extremely well, but he wasn’t perfect. I didn’t expect him to be. And accidents happened.

“Babe?” Sometimes the rashes simply broke out over night.

“Trevor, Shh.” I tried to roll away from him, but when his fingers ghosted over the irritated skin on my face, I gasped at the feeling.

“Fuck- T!” I scolded, my eyes opened immediately.

He hated when he felt like he messed up. I hated when I scolded him for things he didn’t mean to do.

“…I told Jamie you weren’t feeling good anyway, so he went out without us.” Trevor had been rambling for a while, both of us in the bathroom doing our own thing. He was busy grabbing an extra roll of paper towels from the cabinet under the sink. I was trying to brush my teeth. I attempted to step out of the way when Trevor harshly pushed the cabinet door shut, but the corner skinned my calf anyway. I gasped, and managed to choke on toothpaste in the process.

“Oh shit! I’m so sorry!” Trevor was frantic all evening over my leg, apologizing over and over. After we got the arguably minimal amount of bleeding to stop, he still peeled back the bandages every so often to make sure everything was okay. I had to tell Trevor we were wasting bandaids.

The days when I felt absolutely disgusted with myself were the worst. I hadn’t lost all my hair, but it certainly thinned. And I hated looking in mirrors when my rashes got so bad that my skin would crack and bleed. Showers became hell. Trevor started to take them with me more often.

“It’s okay, baby.” He ran his hands through my hair, never commenting on the tiny strands that would remain on his hands long after he pulled them away. I stood tucked into his chest, arms folded up between us, fully enveloped by him.

My flawless boyfriend.

“I know it irritates.” Washing my body was the hardest on days when the rashes were all over. The dry skin never took well to the water, even if it provided a momentary relief.

There were days Trevor wouldn’t even bother with a washcloth. He would put the body wash on his hands and run them over my body from top to bottom. It made me cry. I would never understand how one emotion caused him to completely shift his personality around me.

Love was a powerful feeling, I suppose.

Love turned Trevor from a rambunctious loud, abrasive guy. Into a completely devoted and caring man. A gentle, expressive, and considerate man.

“We’re almost done,” he whispered as he ran his hands down my legs, kissing the patchy skin on my calves and ankles. I found the rashes were always the worst on my ankles after I wore shoes for long periods of time. The tongues of said shoes always rubbed my skin uncomfortably. I had to buy longer socks to help with that.

After Trevor finished lathering my body in wash, he’d trail his hands back up and all over. Sometimes I was lucky enough to sit on the lip of the tub while he shaved my legs. Times when my body hurt too bad to stand very long, or even bend over, he offered to help. Those moments he often found it easiest to make jokes and cheer me up.

��Haven’t mowed the lawn in a long time, eh?” He mumbled with a cheeky grin as he knelt in front of me, pulling my foot up onto his thigh while the other hand reached for my shaving cream. I giggled and ruffled his wet hair. Sometimes I found his comments embarrassing, but he was a guy. He was bound to find the weirdest statements amusing.

“I love you so much, T.” I whispered while his nose was scrunched and his brow was furrowed, face inches from my knee as he tried hard not to cut it with the razor. Hands that used to pinch and gently smack me when he was teasing or play fighting. Hands that used to throw me around like a rag doll after I challenged him to a wrestling match, now so light and tender. Like I was fine china.

Trevor also learned that dab-drying worked better for my skin than rubbing the towel all over my body after showers. It got the job of drying done, but it was far easier on my body.

I loved the tactic, but what I loved even more was the little sounds he’d make while he did it. They always made me laugh. Trevor always found a way to make our abnormal routines funny or cute. He always wanted to distract me from the fact that our lives were different.

After he’d finish drying my body, he’d whisk me away into the bedroom and how I felt usually dictated what we did next.

If I was tired, we’d take a nap. In pain, he’d give me one hell of a massage. The occasions I ended up horny? Trevor fixed that too.

And through Trevor’s learning, Jamie picked up on things too. When Trevor was on road trips and I was stuck with Jame, I learned I could lean on him. He was always one call away when I needed him. Even if it meant yelling across the house.

“Jamie!”

“I’m coming!” His thudding and rushed footsteps always endeared me.

“Hey!”

At times he’d find me on the floor.

“Hey, what happened?” He rushed to my side, helped me up slowly, and assured himself that I wasn’t injured.

“Guess I just can’t walk today…” I mumbled, embarrassed. The joint pain was always the worst to handle when I needed to be active.

“Alright.. what do you need to me to do?”

I found that Jamie was still on the ‘what do you needs?’ While Trevor already knew seconds in advance. And Trevor was far more confident with my illness than Jamie was.

He’d often text Trevor on my bad days to let him know. He’d also sit with me on the couch, never too touchy, not wanting to cross any lines. But when we’d sit at opposite ends -watching anything on the tv- occasionally, he’d pull my feet into his lap and gently rub them or my legs.

When Trevor would return from those long road trips, he’d always see me and tend to my needs and profess his love, before asking if I needed new pills, or if I needed him to stop by the store for anything. He’d been a domestic disaster before I got my diagnosis. Now, he was one of the most domestic guys I knew.

“This is it? Everything on this list?”

“All the groceries we need for the week. Yup.”

“Okay.. did you ask Jamie if he wanted anything?” I smiled and nodded. We were always taking care of Jamie.

“The store bought cookies are for him. And the purple Gatorade.”

“Okay. I’ll be back. Then I’m making dinner.”

Those words brought a huge smile to my face.

“Can’t wait, Trev.”

Sometimes I would go with him, but only on days when I felt on top of the world. Usually I tried to spend those days going out, but Trevor was always afraid I’d overdo it.

On those good days when he turned out to be right, he never told me so, or shook his head or laughed at me. He’d simply welcome me home with open arms and a sympathetic expression. Because he knew how much I missed my normality. How much I missed my old life.

And often times when I dwelled too much on that, he was always there.

“You’re beautiful. And I love you so much. And I’m happy with where we are right now. I’m happy to look after you, and love on you, and I’m happy you let me stand by you.”

His confessions were often spoken whispers in the darkness of our bedroom at night. Or on the rooftop. He hated when I went up there alone, but he still found me there from time to time.

He sat behind me, pulled me against his back between his legs, and wrapped his arms around me.

“We’re doing this together. I’ve been here from day one, and I’m not leaving now. I’m already in too deep.” He smiled. His breathy laugh would make me giggle.

“I’ve already seen too much.” He added with a playful touch of horror in his tone. I reached behind myself to slap his chest. I knew he was genuine. I knew he loved me. And I hoped he would never leave me. He always told me he was there until our last days on this earth. Until we both ceased to exist.

“I promise I’m sticking around. Me and Jambo. But mostly me.”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 47 (Meeting Her Family and Friends)

Conrad's first visit to picturesque Henford-on-Bagley came the day he met Heather and Ash to meet her friends and family. They stopped first in Old New Henford to visit Everett and Spencer, but Heather's parents, Neal and Daisy, greeted them in the yard before they'd even gone inside.

"We were just out for a walk, enjoying a nice fall day without rain," said Daisy, but Heather knew exactly why they were here. Noting her daughter's half-smile, Daisy gave up the charade. "Oh, we were tired of waiting to meet him!"

"It's so good to finally meet you." Conrad offered the polite and welcoming smile Heather had first fallen for. He was warm and affable with everyone he met; it seemed impossible for him to make a bad first impression.

Heather's old friend, Everett - the man she once thought she'd love more than any other - greeted Heather, Conrad, and her family outside the mansion he now called home. His old country church sat just down the road, and he welcomed Heather's new boyfriend with more maturity than he'd once dealt with Malcolm. "It's great to meet you, Conrad. We've heard so much about you, already."

"Good things, I hope."

Heather let out a self-deprecating laugh. "I told them how you got a confession out of me and still kept me from going to prison, so I think their hopes for you are sky high!"

"She's right," said her father, Neal. "But you're off to a good start."

Relaxing on the porch with dusk setting in, Heather held the boy she gave birth to for Everett and Spencer. Jett had Heather's eyes, but his parents looked at him with so much love. Despite his tired mood, he was happy and well cared for. Heather couldn't have hoped for more when she chose to be their surrogate.

"Show your toys!" Ash demanded of Greyson as the two toddlers met for the first time. Ash was more outgoing than Greyson, who was older, and Spencer and Everett's son felt overwhelmed.

Cradling Jett in her arms, Heather reprimanded her toddler. "Ash, you say, 'Please may I see your toys?'"

"Show toys, peese."

The calmer approach worked, and the boys toddled off to see Greyson's toys. Heather offered her friends an apologetic frown. "I'm trying to teach him better manners, but after he spends a few days with the Landgraabs he always seems to forget them."

"He's not so bad," Spencer assured her. "Greyson's always been cautious around new faces."

Heather was grateful to spend time with her oldest friends, and relieved that Conrad got along so well with them. In her arms, Jett began to whine and reached for his father. He was ready for bed.

Everett took his son from Heather's arms, inviting her upstairs while he put him to sleep. Heather watched quietly, leaving Everett to handle the task on his own. She understood what she was getting into when she signed the surrogacy papers, and she never wanted to overstep any boundaries. She didn't want to do anything she wasn't invited to do by Everett and Spencer.

Finally, Jett dozed off to sleep, and Everett turned his attention to his friend. "My Dad says Jett's like me. Malia was the calm twin, and I was always fussy," he mused. "He laughs like Spencer, though. It's funny how that works."

"Ash can be so bossy. Like his grandmother, Nancy. I kind of hope Conrad's manners rub off on him despite his genetics."

"I think the odds of that are pretty good. Your son went straight to Conrad's sofa when we all sat in the family room, and Conrad spent five minutes debating with two toddlers whether a T-rex could swim. He didn't crack once. He really cares about you, and he cares about your son. I know you think you don't make good choices-"

"Name five good choices I've made."

"Becoming a vet, becoming a mom, becoming a surrogate, becoming a business owner, and breaking things off with Malcolm - and me - to make room in your life for Conrad." Heather smiled at Everett's affirmation. "The last thing you'll ever need is my approval, but I want you to know you have it, no matter what."

He was right. She didn't need his approval, but her best friend's words still meant the world.

Everett knew her so well after everything they'd been through, and Heather brimmed with confidence at his support. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

[saras-devotionals]

Quiet Time 9/14

What am I feeling today?

Overwhelmed. There’s so much for me to do this weekend and even just today and I’m not sure how I’ll be able to accomplish it all. I’ve been praying for strength and I hope to be diligent in all I have to do.

Bible Plan: Wisdom in Dating

(I’ve fallen pretty hard for a guy in my church and I’m trying so hard not to get delusional, obsessed, or jealous and I have definitely made improvements from my last interest but it’s still a struggle every day that I have to pray over so to avoid him becoming an idol for me. In the meantime, I’m trying to gather as much wisdom and advice as I can!)

How Do We Deal With Different?

Anyone you date is going to be different from you. They’ll likely have some interests you don’t share and some opinions you might not see eye to eye on. And that’s good news! Why? Because differences can help us discover so much about ourselves and the kind of person we want to spend our life with. But how different is too different?

Dealbreakers

What are your dealbreakers? You know, the things that would instantly shut down your dating relationship? Maybe it’s a differing worldview or some other strongly held belief you can’t get on board with. Or maybe they have a bunch of pet tarantulas, and you’re not willing to be a spider-stepparent.

Dealbreakers are healthy, and we should all have a few. They’re healthy boundaries to help us avoid potential disasters. But they can hold us back. Why? Because it’s possible to have a few too many dealbreakers.

How Selective Should We Be?

We want to have high standards, but how do we know when our standards are too high? The answer is different for everyone. But there are risks at both extremes:

If our standards are too low, we might risk missing red flags, resulting in an unhealthy relationship.

If we set the bar too high, we might sabotage what could otherwise have been a healthy and fruitful relationship.

So what’s the answer? Well, Scripture doesn’t give us an exhaustive list of how to find just the right person. Instead, it offers us wisdom to help us see what matters most.

Can I Date Someone Who Doesn’t Follow Jesus?

God has called us to live differently from the people around us by embracing forgiveness, grace, generosity, and sacrifice. It’s a beautiful and life-giving journey–and it’s even better when you get to share it with someone else who’s pursuing the same high calling. You get to spur each other on in faith, helping each other get closer to God rather than drifting away. So doesn’t it make sense to choose someone to date who shares your desire to be more like Jesus?

What Are Some Other Dealbreakers?

Your values, goals, and personality all play a role in choosing who to date. That means everyone’s list of dealbreakers will look different. So consider what kind of person you want to date, and what factors might get in the way of a healthy long-term relationship. But avoid making the list too long. After all, differences aren’t always bad. In fact, they can be healthy.

God created you with a unique calling, personality, and passion. So what qualities and values in a future partner might complement and amplify those gifts from God?

Challenge: Consider some of your dealbreakers. They should reflect your deeply held values. But remember, keep the list short. This can help you focus on the most important things.

fully committed to Christ (this is in a sense a no brainer! but I want a man who consistently has his quiet times, prays frequently, leads bible studies, serves in the church, shares his faith, and is just an all around good example of a disciple and good leader)

dating to marry (he doesn’t just want to be married and have a wife, but he desires to be a biblical husband.)

wants a family/children (in that same vein, he should be good with children, kind, compassionate, have that fatherly instinct)

higher education (I’m on the last year of my degree and plan to continue on my education in grad school. I want us to be equals in the intellectual sphere so he should have at least a bachelor’s)

Prefer for us to have the same political views (I need someone who shares the same morals and values I do and a lot of that is revealed in politics - even though I really dislike following politics. I just want him well informed but also wise in his choices)

This may be silly but he has to like dogs and cats (I have two cats and a dog and there is absolutely no way I’m ever giving them up. They’re like children to me and I need a partner who equally shares my love for them.)

Colossians 3:1-10 NIV

“Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God. When Christ, who is your life, appears, then you also will appear with him in glory. Put to death, therefore, whatever belongs to your earthly nature: sexual immorality, impurity, lust, evil desires and greed, which is idolatry. Because of these, the wrath of God is coming. You used to walk in these ways, in the life you once lived. But now you must also rid yourselves of all such things as these: anger, rage, malice, slander, and filthy language from your lips. Do not lie to each other, since you have taken off your old self with its practices and have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge in the image of its Creator.”

It can be difficult, especially when you’re physically attracted to someone, to put to death lust and desire. I know that I’ve been struggling a bit more with it lately thinking about him but I have to consistently correct myself over it!

God does not at all want us to be in sin, especially if I’m lusting over another disciple. Also, it negates love on my side, I’m not doing that brother or myself any favors by having this desire for him!

Anyways, this is such a solid reminder that we must rid ourselves of all of this since we have been made new in Christ!!

2 Corinthians 6:14 NIV

“Do not be yoked together with unbelievers. For what do righteousness and wickedness have in common? Or what fellowship can light have with darkness?”

THAT PART! I truly don’t understand how you can identify with being Christian and yet be with someone who doesn’t share those same fundamental beliefs that you revolve your entire life around. It doesn’t make sense to me, you should want to desire to be with someone who is godly and righteous and pursues God more than they pursue you!

Proverbs 27:17 NIV

“As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another.”

This is not just a good reasons for dating a Christian but also for fellowshipping with other believers! We hold each other accountable and we help each other improve in our walks with God. You should want a partner who is going to sharpen you and encourage you in your relationship and desire to have God be at the center of it all!

[itsnotmyfaultsomepeoplecantread]

Guys I want to be crystal clear about something:

Venting is valid, but if your response to everyone is to always just be an asshole, then you’re going to lose people’s’ sense of sympathy.

Not wanting your disability or condition to be compared to another is one thing. But don’t start calling out specific disabilities that have nothing to do with yours, BECAUSE THAT IS LITERALLY DOING THE SAME THING YOU ARE UPSET ABOUT.

For instance. I have all of my limbs. I cannot possibly know what it feels like to lose my limbs. People missing limbs are allowed to complain about a missing limb. I am also allowed to complain about the intense pain I feel everyday, the number of surgeries I’ve had, and the fact that I sometimes black out just going to the bathroom.

I do not have seizures. I cannot know what it is like to have seizures. People with seizures are allowed to complain. Similarly, I am also allowed to complain about being overwhelmed by textures and sounds, forgetfulness, and how exhausting it is to keep track of my brain so I don’t fall into a pit of dispair all the time.

They are not the same. They are both valid experiences. How they’d come up as equated is generally beyond me. But I also know that sometimes people mean well and don’t know how else to show that their support. Empathy is not bad, it’s human. And it’s just a skill more than anything else.

Saying “wow that’s really intense” is an ok response. Saying “it’s absolutely not the same thing, but I experience xyz and I know what [insert common disability experience] is like” is an ok response too. It’s also ok to ask “do you want to vent, do you want sympathy, or do you want to problem solve?” It’s also ok to say to say “look I feel for you, but I don’t have the capacity to have this conversation right now.” All of these are valid.

Don’t fall into the trap of turning against each other. Our experiences are different and that’s why smaller communities exist to support each other. But if we battle over little things, we’re never going to make the systematic change we all need. That’s how they keep us divided.

And remember that if someone isn’t expressing sympathy the way you need, just tell them. Kindly. Because chances are that their heart is in the right place, and they may have their own reasons for not being a perfect supporter. You’re allowed to be angry when you’ve set boundaries so many times you’ve lost count. You’re allowed to have your trauma triggered by a similar situation.

But if you make them equal without even giving people a chance, then you’re no better than they are.