#she knows more about me than anyone else in the world

[chocoqtelle]

inner child pac reading

🦀 pile one,,

I know we're used to being super helpful, but it's good to help yourself too. you should always make sure you're okay first. It's important for us to be okay, even if other people don't think so. we should think so. things are gonna be okay for us. they always are. I want to do the things we like. I don't understand why you care about what people think now. I think we should try doing what we like more, even if it's embarrassing. it doesn't have to take a lot of time. it's just good to have fun sometimes. maybe you can get back into some of our old interests if you want?

it seems like this pile had to mature quickly and was overly generous in childhood. this likely led to some people pleaser habits. when the world said "be nice" and "care about others" you took it to heart, but it felt like you were the only one who did. you felt like you had to be the adult in your childhood and care for other people around you. for some of you, you may have had to care for a parental/older familiar figure or your siblings. you're used to changing your words and your personality to be more digestible and gentle because this strong fear of conflict. you were scared of people being mean to you, so you avoided making anyone mad. it was like you were always tiptoeing over eggshells. now, you don't have to, so there's no point in worrying about people who don't worry about you. you'd be doing yourself and your inner child a favor by doing what you want. it might feel wrong to be yourself, but at least try. I won't delve too much into this part, but I believe some people in this pile also dealt with being oversexualized or being hyper sexual at a young age. I think it's important to know you're more than what you can give others for this pile. please also take a break for the love of god.

🐸 pile two,,

It's hard to feel loved if nobody shows you. at the same time, i don't think I'd want to be loved. it seems weird and uncomfortable. I'm not used to it so it's scary. I still wish that someone would care at least. it feels like nobody else cares. I'm really tired of things being silent and boring all the time. I want to do something fun. I want friends but I want to be by myself. people think I'm weird, but I think they're the weird ones. they can avoid me but I wouldn't wanna be friends with them anyway. it doesn't matter if it's lonely, I don't feel less lonely around people anyway. some people think I'm mean. I don't think I'm mean. i heard I look mean or I act mean sometimes, but what if that's just who I am? I don't try to be mean to people. I just don't want people to hurt me.

holy neglect trauma... there's a lot to unpack here 😓 first off, I hope you're alright. it seems like this pile never really learned how to interact with people and is probably still a bit of a people hater. this pile has had to keep strong boundaries and walls on to protect themselves from unfamiliar experiences (being spoken to positively.) if you've never experienced something, it can be scary but you have to stop thinking every little thing is gonna go wrong in your life. it's fine. separate note but I think someone's ancestors are very present here, might want to connect with them if you don't already. you can try to shut down the feelings of loneliness and pretend connection won't help but it does. you're probably not connected with your inner child or you're ashamed of yourself for some reason. trying to be cold won't undo anything or save you from the feelings you're hiding. you'll have to acknowledge them at some point. escapism and forcing ignorance wont help forever. hopefully it'll be sooner than later, but that's your choice. it's okay to be soft, btw.

🐕 pile three,,

I know what I'm talking about. I'm serious. I wish people would take me more seriously. i get good grades, I study hard, I always prove how smart I am. for some reason, people still act like I'm too young and stupid to have opinions or that what I say is just silly, especially with emotions. they act like having emotions makes you a less rational person. some people look down on me for who I am, too. it's not something I can change. whether it's gender, age, or whatever, people always want an excuse to ignore how I feel or what I have to say. I know I'm right though. I don't want us to stop expressing ourselves. I wanna share how I feel to the world.

this pile is extremely opinionated and knows how to share their emotions. this pile is for the "bossy" kids who "should have been lawyers" or "a CEO" according to every adult around them. you were emotional as a child and it was always ignored or joked off as if your feelings were invalid. this pile is definitely natural-born leaders so if you aren't/never have been aspiration-driven or "extra" this pile probably isn't yours. the most healing thing you can do for yourself at this point is speak up. continue to speak about everything. share your opinion more, it's safe now and people will actually take you seriously. be emotional, be too much, be annoying, be talkative, be over-opinionated, be everything you feel like being and don't let anyone talk you out of it. lead your life how you want to. call everything out, even if it means being weird. I definitely feel like some people in this pile had the gifted kid experience or liked to read a lot when they were younger. there's also some unresolved anger that might need to be taken care of. I think speaking up more instead of bottling feelings up will definitely help that, though. you're not stupid or weak for being emotional. just be yourself unapologetically and that's the best thing you can do for your younger self.

[dissapointu]

Hey, i love your work and i think that your writing is beautiful

Can i request the ladies of Arcane with a imortal fem s/o? Like, she's about their age and cannot die from things that aren't time itself, their s/o can only die when her time comes, until then, no matter how much anyone tries to kill her, she will simply regenerate

Sorry for the long text and english errors, it's not my native linguage. Also, thank you for reading it :)

Thank you so much for your kind words! Your English is amazing, and I’m honored to bring your idea to life.

Jinx

Jinx would think your immortality is the coolest thing EVER.

• When she finds out, her immediate reaction is pure excitement. “Wait, so you’re, like, INVINCIBLE? That’s AWESOME!”

• She’d probably test your ability at first—nothing too serious, but you’d definitely have to talk her out of throwing you into something reckless. “What? You’d heal, right? No big deal!”

• Over time, though, it would hit her: if you’re immortal, she’s the fragile one in the relationship. It’s a bittersweet realization for her.

• “Promise me something, okay? That you’ll remember me… even when I’m gone.” She’d cope with humor most of the time but get quietly sentimental when she thinks too hard about it.

• Jinx would also LOVE showing off your ability. “This is my girlfriend—she’s totally unkillable. Jealous much?”

Vi

Vi would be lowkey awestruck by your immortality, but she wouldn’t show it at first.

• When she first sees you regenerate from a life-threatening wound, she’d be wide-eyed for a second before shaking it off like, “Okay, that’s a neat trick. Care to explain?”

• Once she understands the full extent of your ability, she’d be deeply relieved. “That’s one less thing I have to worry about… but damn, does it still freak me out.”

• She’d be protective of you, even though you don’t technically need it. “Immortal or not, nobody gets to hurt you on my watch.”

• The thought of growing old while you stay the same might weigh on her sometimes, but she’d push those feelings aside to make the most of the time she has with you.

• “Guess that just means I have to make every day count, huh? You’ll remember me when I’m gone.”

Sevika

Sevika would be skeptical at first but ultimately find your immortality fascinating—and useful.

• When she sees you regenerate after a near-fatal injury, she’d be stunned for a moment before muttering, “Well, that’s one hell of an advantage.”

• She wouldn’t coddle you, knowing you can take care of yourself, but she’d still have your back in fights. “Just because you can’t die doesn’t mean I’m letting anyone get a hit in.”

• Your ability would earn her respect, especially in the rough-and-tumble world of Zaun. “You’re tougher than anyone I know. Guess that’s why we work.”

• She might joke about your immortality, saying stuff like, “Good thing you’re stuck with me—nobody else could keep up with you for that long.”

Caitlyn

Caitlyn would be both amazed and worried about your immortality.

• When you reveal your ability, she’d be quiet for a moment, processing what it means. “So… no matter what happens, you’ll always come back? That’s incredible, but… also terrifying.”

• She’d admire your strength but still feel protective. “Just because you can’t die doesn’t mean I want to see you hurt.”

• Your immortality would make her think deeply about her own mortality, but she’d value the time you spend together even more. “It doesn’t matter how long we have. Every moment with you is worth it.”

• Caitlyn would support you in every way, helping you navigate the emotional weight of your immortality. “You’ve seen so much, but I hope I can give you memories worth holding onto.”

Mel Medarda

Mel would see your immortality as both a gift and a burden.

• When she learns about your ability, she’d be intrigued and ask thoughtful questions. “How long have you carried this? How does it feel, knowing time is your only limit?”

• She’d admire your resilience and strength, seeing you as a kindred spirit in navigating a world that often demands too much.

• Mel would be deeply aware of her own mortality, but she wouldn’t let it hold her back. “If I only have a fraction of your time, I’ll make it unforgettable.”

• She’d also be fascinated by the strategic advantages of your ability, often thinking about how you could use it to shape the world. “With your gift and my vision, we could change everything.”

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa would be incredibly impressed by your immortality and see it as a rare, invaluable strength.

• When you reveal your ability, she’d smile knowingly. “I had a feeling there was more to you than met the eye.”

• She’d appreciate your ability from a pragmatic perspective, understanding how it could turn the tide in dangerous situations. “Immortality is a weapon. Wield it wisely.”

• Ambessa would admire your determination and experience, often asking for your insights. “Someone who has seen so much must have a wealth of wisdom. Share it with me.”

• She’d be confident in your ability to protect yourself but still fiercely protective of you. “Immortal or not, you’re still mine to protect.”

Maddie Nolen

Maddie would be in awe of your immortality but also concerned for how it affects you emotionally.

• When she finds out, she’d be both amazed and worried. “You can survive anything? That’s incredible… but it must be so hard, too.”

• She’d do her best to support you emotionally, always checking in to make sure you’re okay. “You don’t have to carry this alone. I’m here for as long as I can be.”

• Maddie would focus on creating meaningful, happy memories with you, knowing that her time with you is finite. “Every moment we share is precious to me.”

• She’d admire your ability to keep going despite everything you’ve experienced, often telling you, “You’re stronger than anyone I’ve ever met.”

Lest

Lest would have a unique perspective on your immortality.

• When she finds out, she’d tilt her head curiously and ask, “Does it hurt, coming back? Or is it like waking up from a long nap?”

• She’d be fascinated by your ability and how it shapes your perspective on life, often asking you questions about your experiences.

• Lest would be quietly protective, always by your side even if you don’t technically need her help. “Just because you can’t die doesn’t mean you should face everything alone.”

• She’d enjoy your company immensely, seeing your immortality as an opportunity to build an enduring bond. “If I stay by your side, will you tell me your stories? I want to be part of them.”

TL;DR: Each character would be amazed by your immortality, but their reactions would be shaped by their personalities. Whether it’s Jinx hyping you up, Caitlyn worrying about you, or Mel pondering how to use your gift to shape the world, they’d all admire your strength and resilience while cherishing the time they have with you. You might be immortal, but their love and devotion would still feel infinite.

[mclacedes]

Shameless (LN4 SMAU)

1. something awful

warnings: nothing, but there might be suggestive content

summary: in which people suspect the singer Y/N Stella left the Miami GP after party earlier because of Lando

pairing: lando norris x fem!singer!stella!reader

face claim: camila cabello / kendall jenner

WC: 3.3k

✧ next up

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . MAY. 　⁺ 　 . ✦

INSTAGRAM

paddockgirl

❤️ by user1, ynfan2, landonorris and more

paddockgirl: Spotted: the ever-dazzling Y/N Stella, slipping away from Miami’s hottest ticket—Lando Norris' maiden F1 victory after-party—way earlier than expected. Draped in designer and with her usual charm, the pop starlet didn’t stay to bask in the post-win glow. Instead, she was seen hurrying off alongside Bella Hadid and Y/BFF, each departing in separate cars.

Was the night too electric, or was something more simmering beneath the surface? With those hurried steps and that unbothered demeanor, it seems Y/N was in a rush to leave the celebrations behind. No word yet on what—or who—might have prompted her sudden exit, but in the world of fast cars and even faster whispers, one thing’s for sure: the story doesn’t end here.

You know you love this,

XOXO, the paddock girl

click here to open comment section

user5: ok is it just me or she looks disturbed?

user3: ok what is going on

landofan4: WJAT IS THE MIAMI GP WINNER DOING IN THE LIKES???????? WTF

ynfan8: lando liking this means something.... right?

ynfan10: add fire to fuel lando!!! we love to see it

landofan3: god what is happening???

ynfan8: some fans (like myself) think they have a relationship

ynfan15: yeah sure if they're dating why would she leave her boyfriend's VERY FIRST F1 victory after prty tho??

landofan7: lando like this if you're going after her ❤️ by landonorris

landofan11: SHUT UP HE DID NOT

TWITTER

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

it was long past midnight on May 6th, the night after Lando’s maiden victory.

the party had been good—electric energy, laughter, your father in his element, proud beyond measure—but you couldn’t stay in that stuffy, cramped place for another second, so you slipped away quietly, not warning anyone other than andrea amd zak to step into the cool night air outside the club.

the city’s hum was faint, the night, chilly. you looked at your phone screen to check the time: 1:12am.

you quickly ordered an uber, the car arriving minutes later. as you slid into the backseat, you felt the weight of the night sinking in. your mind wandered back to Lando—his smile, the way his eyes sparkled when he took off the helmet, how he looked so free and so alive, how you hadn’t been able to pull your gaze away from him all evening. there was something about him, something that made you feel all the things you didn’t want to feel, and it was getting harder to ignore.

Lando always made you feel like he completed something inside of you, like you could sit and listen to him talk for hours, just staring and memorizing his perfectly crafted features just so you could have the chance to do it all again in your dreams—the sweet ones and the wild.

you let all your armor fall near him, you let him see you and in return he… existed; he didn't have to do much to satisfy you. and he had no idea that his "baby boss" was falling more and more in love with the person he was every day.

the uber ride was quiet, the streets almost empty at this hour, and your mind couldn’t focus on anything else except the way Lando’s laugh had filled the room earlier, how effortless he made everything seem. as the car stopped in front of the hotel, you paid the driver and stepped out, feeling the chill of the night air hit your skin.

you didn’t want to go back inside. not yet. not when the night felt like it was still unfolding. so you found your way to the hotel’s poolside, the water reflecting the soft light from the overhead lamps. you leaned against the edge, arms folded, gazing up at the dark sky, the stars scattered like whispers above you.

it was quiet here. peaceful. no one else around.

so you just took the moment in: you let out a soft breath, trying to calm the flutter in your chest.

how was it that he could make everything inside you feel so real? it wasn’t supposed to be like this. you shouldn’t be feeling like this. but every time you looked at him, every time your eyes met his, you could feel it—something more than just friendship, more than the playful teasing. it was becoming harder to hide, harder to pretend it wasn’t there.

you stayed there laid and thinking for about an hour, letting the cool air settle around you, trying to push all the thoughts of him aside, but they kept circling back. it wasn’t just the way he looked at you or how he made you laugh, it was something deeper. something you didn’t know how to handle yet. but you didn’t want to fight it either.

you were at peace until a stepping noise caught your attention.

you blinked, slightly startled, as Lando dipped his feet in the water next to you, his gaze locking onto yours with that signature mischievous grin. his hair was tousled, his shirt untucked, and there was a casual swagger to his movements, even in his slightly drunken state.

“what are you doing here, norris?”

“shouldn't i ask you that, Cinderella?” he smirked, his voice teasing yet warm, the kind of charm that was both effortless and infuriating.

you rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed the fact that you were glad he showed up. “don’t call me that, Lando.”

“why not?” he leaned back, getting comfortable. “you ran off after midnight! it's the perfect nickname actually, if you stop and think.”

“no it's not,” you shot back, the corners of your mouth twitching in amusement.

“should i stick with baby boss then?” he asked, a playful glint in his eyes as he glanced over at you, waiting for your reaction.

your heart skipped. baby boss. he always said it so casually, yet it carried a weight to it that you couldn’t quite shake off.

"it's not baby boss," you sighed, trying to ignore the way your stomach fluttered. "but whatever, I’m sure you’ll call me something equally ridiculous anyway."

Lando just shrugged, unfazed by your resistance. “it’s either that or Cinderella. take your pick.”

you shook your head, but the warmth spreading in your chest told you that, somehow, it didn’t really matter what he called you. the sound of his voice, the way he spoke to you like no one else did—like you were someone important to him—was enough to make you feel something you couldn’t name.

"you’ve really got no filter, do you?" you muttered, feeling the tension between you start to shift. there was something about him that made it impossible to stay distant, something that kept pulling you in, even though you weren’t sure what to do with it.

“why would i?” Lando grinned, unabashed. “filters are overrated.”

he turned to look at you again, his gaze locking onto yours with that effortlessly charming look that made your heart race.

you two were there, under the midnight sky, staring into the universe's infinite darkness, the soft hum of distant waves mingling with the steady beat of your pulse. the quiet was almost deafening, the only sound the faint rustling of leaves in the breeze.

and yet, even in this peaceful, still moment, there was a strange intensity in the air between you and him. it wasn’t the alcohol or the high of the night’s events; it was something more—a quiet understanding, a shared breath.

“filters exist so we don't sound stupid, or insensitive. it's made so we know what to say and when to say it. they're not overrated,” you explain.

Lando’s lips quirked up, his eyes never leaving yours. “oh, c'mon, baby boss,” he laughed, rolling his green eyes, glistening with amusement. “there's gotta be a small bit of you that's like... shameless or something.”

you raised an eyebrow, trying to play it cool, but deep down, the way he looked at you made it hard to stay detached. you took a breath, the night suddenly feeling a little heavier than before.

“maybe,” you admitted, staring out at the water.

Lando shifted slightly on the beside you to get a better look at you. the warm glow of the pool lights danced across his face, softening the sharp lines of his jaw and the mischievous glint in his green eyes. he was so close now, his arm resting lazily on the edge of the lounger, his gaze steady on yours.

“then, quick, quick. tell me something awful,” he urged again, his tone playful but low, as though he was sharing a secret with you.

you hesitated, your fingers fidgeting with the fabric of your dress. you wanted to match his energy, to keep it light, but the weight of the night and his persistent gaze made it impossible to hold back. before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out.

“lost my virginity with a guy who only did me because he felt sorry for me.”

the moment the words left your lips, you regretted them. the air seemed to shift, the playful spark dimming as Lando went still. he didn’t laugh, didn’t smirk or tease like you expected. instead, his brows furrowed slightly, and he looked at you like he was trying to piece together how anyone could make you feel that way.

“shit,” he muttered under his breath, breaking the silence. “i didn’t—”

“it’s fine,” you cut him off quickly, not wanting the moment to linger in the rawness of your confession. your eyes dropped to the shimmering pool water, the ripples almost hypnotic. “really. it’s... a long time ago.”

there was a pause, the kind that made the air between you feel heavier. Lando didn’t move, didn’t look away. when he spoke again, his voice was quieter, softer, like he was sharing something equally intimate.

“you deserve so much better than that,” he said, his words careful but full of conviction. “i mean... i wouldn’t do that to you.”

your eyes flicked back to his, and the sincerity there caught you off guard. Lando wasn’t teasing now, wasn’t trying to be charming. he meant it.

you let out a soft laugh, trying to defuse the moment, but it sounded more like a sigh. “thanks, i guess,” you murmured, your voice almost getting lost in the gentle rustle of the breeze.

Lando tilted his head, studying you for a moment longer. “no, i mean it,” he said firmly, leaning in just slightly. “you’re... all due respect, hot as hell.”

his words hit you harder than you expected. it wasn’t just what he said—it was the way he said it, like he was genuinely baffled that anyone could treat you as anything less than extraordinary. you swallowed, your chest tightening in a way that made you feel vulnerable but also... safe.

“you’re full of surprises,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood again, but your voice wavered just enough to betray the emotion building inside you.

“just being honest,” he shrugged, that familiar grin tugging at his lips again, though his eyes stayed soft. “besides, you know me, Cinderella—no filter. shameless.”

you smiled despite yourself, your fingers brushing over the cool metal of the marble floor.

“what's your big secret, Norris? your awful thing,” you asked, prompting yourself on one of your sides so you could have a better look at him under the midnight hours.

did he look handsome? as usual.

his tousled hair framed his face just right, the perfect mix of messy and deliberate, matching the black dress shirt, wrinkled and unbuttoned, as if it naturally rebelled against perfection.

the soft glow from the pool lights danced over his features, catching in his green eyes and making them look impossibly vivid, like they were lit from within. his cheekbones looked sharper in the low light, and the subtle curve of his lips held that ever-present smirk, the one that seemed to say he knew exactly the effect he had on you.

“oh, so now you want my dirty laundry?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

“fair trade, i guess,” you shot back, the corners of your lips twitching into a smile.

for a second, his expression shifted—something darker, something more intent flickered across his face. before you could fully register it, he leaned closer to you, barely blinking as he moved toward you.

“what are you doing?” you asked, your voice soft but curious as your heart began to pick up its pace.

he didn’t answer. instead, he stopped once you could feel his breath against your face, his eyes locked on yours. his beautiful face was so close now that you could see the faint shadow of stubble on his jaw and the way his lips parted slightly as he breathed.

your breath caught with how he looked at you, his gaze intense but not unkind, the teasing smirk replaced by something that felt... heavier. his voice was low when he finally spoke, almost a whisper but laced with unmistakable intent.

“i know i’m drunk and you're my boss' daughter but... god, i wanna take you upstairs so bad. take that dress out of your body… you do things to me, y/n, do you have any idea of that?”

the world around you seemed to fade into the background, the gentle ripple of the pool and the faint hum of the city swallowed by the intensity of the moment. Lando’s words hung in the air, heavy and electrifying, as if the universe itself had paused to watch what you’d do next.

you swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest like a drum. his proximity was dizzying, his scent—a mix of cologne, champagne, and something uniquely him—invading your senses. you tried to find your voice, but the way his green eyes bored into yours made it nearly impossible to think straight.

“Lando...” you started, your voice barely above a whisper, unsure of how to finish the sentence.

he didn’t move, didn’t blink, like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. his gaze flickered to your lips for the briefest of moments before returning to your eyes, and you felt your stomach flip.

you blinked, trying to process the raw honesty in his words. the Lando you knew—the easygoing, cheeky driver who always had a joke ready—was nowhere to be found. In his place was someone far more vulnerable, someone baring his soul without hesitation.

“you're drunk,” you managed to say, though your voice wavered. “you don't mean that.”

he shook his head, a small, almost bitter laugh escaping his lips. “maybe i am. but i’ll still mean it tomorrow. and the day after that.”

his voice still low, intimate. his eyes searched yours, daring you to look away. “you think i haven't been biting my tongue for months? pretending you don’t make me feel like i’m losing my mind every time you walk into a room?”

your breath hitched. you wanted to say something—anything—but the truth was, part of you wanted him to say it again. part of you wanted him to act on it, consequences be damned. and that terrified you.

“i—” you broke off, shaking your head as you sat up straighter, trying to put some space between the two of you. “Lando, we can’t.”

the corner of his mouth twitched, like he was fighting a smirk, but his eyes stayed serious. “why not?” he asked, his tone calm but challenging. “because you’re andrea's daughter? because i drive for mclaren? or because you’re scared?”

the question caught you off guard, and you felt your defenses crumble just a little. “i’m not scared,” you lied, your voice trembling slightly.

“liar,” he said softly, his lips curving into a knowing smile. but there was no malice in his tone, just a quiet understanding that made your chest tighten.

you looked away, your gaze falling to the water, the reflections rippling like your thoughts. “this... whatever this is—it’s complicated. it’s not supposed to happen.”

“maybe not,” he admitted, his voice steady. “but that doesn’t mean it’s not real.”

his words hit you like a punch to the gut, and His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of the moment. you wanted to argue, to tell him he was being reckless, that nothing good could come from this. but the truth was, part of you didn’t want to stop him.

the carefully constructed walls you had built to keep your feelings for him at bay were crumbling, and you weren’t sure if you had the strength to stop it.

“lando…” you began, but he cut you off, leaning in again, his voice urgent now.

“tell me you don’t feel it too,” he said, his green eyes boring into yours, his vulnerability laid bare. “tell me i’m imagining this, and i’ll stop. i’ll walk away right now.”

you opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. you couldn’t tell him that, because it wasn’t the truth. you felt it—the pull, the tension, the way his presence made everything else fade away. and now, under the soft glow of the pool lights, with his gaze locked on yours, it was impossible to deny it.

“at least admit it’s there. admit i’m not crazy.”

you looked at him, really looked at him, and in that moment, you couldn’t lie.

“you’re not crazy,” you said softly, your chest tightening as the words left your lips. “it’s there.”

a silence fell between you, heavy and loaded with everything left unsaid. for a moment, neither of you moved, the world around you suspended in the weight of the confession.

then lando let out a shaky chuckle, a mix of relief and maybe something deeper.

just as you felt his lips brushing against yours, the moment was shattered by the sound of footsteps approaching.

“there you are!” oscar’s voice called out, his tone light and oblivious.

you and lando froze, barely inches apart, before turning to see oscar standing in the doorway to the pool area, clad in a matching pajama set and a sheepish expression.

“fuck’s sake,” lando breathed under his breath, so quiet only you could hear it.

oscar’s eyes flicked between the two of you, slowly piecing together the tension in the air. “oh… uh, sorry to disturb your peace,” he said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “but… your father told me to look for you, y/n. he is worried because you weren’t in your room.”

lando ran a hand down his face, muttering something incomprehensible before glancing at you, his expression unreadable now. you swallowed hard, the weight of what had almost happened still lingering between you as you nodded at oscar.

“right,” you said, your voice a little shaky as you smiled. “thanks, oscar. i’ll, um, be there in a second.”

oscar nodded, casting one last curious glance at lando before turning and disappearing back into the hotel.

“great timing,” he muttered, his tone half-joking but tinged with disappointment.

you bit your lip, unsure what to say. the moment was gone, but the tension wasn’t. and you knew it wouldn’t be so easy to push it aside.

“umm… maybe we can do it again, some time?” he joked, his tone light but his eyes searching yours as he got up.

he extended his hand to you, his fingers lingering in the air, waiting.

you hesitated for a moment before reaching out, your hand slipping into his. the warmth of his touch sent a jolt through you as he pulled you to your feet effortlessly.

“yeah, yeah,” you replied, attempting to match his casual tone. “maybe when you’re not drunk?”

lando chuckled softly, the sound low and almost self-deprecating. “fair enough,” he said, his gaze flicking to yours briefly before darting away.

the air between you was still thick with unspoken words, but his attempt to lighten the mood was enough to ease some of the tension. even so, as you let go of his hand, you couldn’t ignore the lingering spark that stayed long after.

“i might need to get some air before i go inside... today was one of those days,” he smiled faintly, his hands slipping into his pockets.

“sure, yeah. congrats on the race, again. i’m proud of you,” you said, your voice soft but sincere.

his eyes lit up at your words, a genuine smile breaking through the fatigue. “thank you, y/n. it’s good when baby boss is proud,” he teased, a playful glint in his eye.

you rolled your eyes, fighting back a smile. “good night, lando.”

“good night,” he replied, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before you turned and walked away, leaving him to the quiet of the night.

as you stepped inside, your shoes on your hand, the cool air of the hall wrapped around you, but it did little to chase away the warmth his smile had left behind.

it wasn’t just his words or the way his eyes lingered—it was the quiet understanding in his voice, the unspoken connection that hummed between you. even as the door clicked shut behind you, you knew this moment would follow you, echoing in the corners of your mind long after the night had faded.

[pandapetals]

Arm Wrestle

Remy bets Logan to arm wrestle leading to chaos.

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - established relationship (y'all married), cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair

a/n: Another brilliant idea inspired by @she-loves-wolvie and the tikok she sent me.

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

The living room buzzed with low chatter as everyone gathered around the coffee table, uno cards fanned out in their hands. Ororo was lounging gracefully on the couch, Hank sat cross-legged on the floor with an air of calm concentration, and Scott was already in team leader mode , explaining the rules like this was some kind of world-saving operation.

“Does everyone understand the rules?” Scott asked, scanning the group like he expected someone to whip out a notepad.

“It’s uno,” Hank replied, arching an eyebrow. “I think we’ve got it covered, fearless leader.”

“Honestly, we could’ve played something more exciting,” Remy chimed in with a dramatic sigh, leaning back on his palms. “Poker’s always a good choice.”

Scott groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We would be playing poker if someone didn’t turn every game into some raunchy ‘flirt with Rogue’ fest.”

You chuckled as Remy smirked unapologetically. “What can I say? I like raisin’ the stakes—especially when ma chérie is playin’.”

Your grin widened as you leaned forward. “Speaking of, where is Rogue tonight? You’re actually here without her?”

Remy shrugged, looking vaguely offended. “She’s out with Jean. I’m a gentleman, cher. I give her space.”

Scott muttered something under his breath about miracles, but you ignored him, turning your attention back to your cards. The first round went well enough, with everyone groaning over +4 cards and loudly accusing Remy of stacking the deck. But by the third game, the excitement had dwindled. Ororo sighed dramatically as Hank leaned back against the couch, looking mildly bored.

“Okay,” Remy said, slapping his cards down on the table. “Uno ain’t doin’ it for me. We need somethin’ else.”

“And by ‘something else,’ you mean something chaotic,” Ororo quipped, rolling her eyes.

Before anyone could respond, Logan walked into the room, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. He was clearly looking for you, his eyes scanning the group until they landed on you.

“Hey, darlin’,” he greeted, his voice low and gravelly.

Remy perked up instantly, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Well, well. Look who’s here. Logan, you ever been good at arm wrestlin’?”

Logan raised an eyebrow, his gaze flicking to the table, then back to Remy. “What’re you talkin’ about, Cajun?”

Remy leaned forward, grinning. “How ‘bout a little challenge? One hundred bucks says I can take you.”

Ororo groaned, pushing herself to her feet. “That’s my cue to leave. I’ve seen this show before.” She gave you a knowing look before heading out of the room.

Logan smirked, walking closer. “You wanna arm wrestle me? For a hundred bucks?”

Remy shrugged. “What can I say? I’m feelin’ lucky tonight.”

Logan let out a low chuckle, pulling a chair over to the table. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got.”

The room buzzed with excitement as everyone gathered around. Scott was already placing bets. “Hank’s the only one who might have a shot,” he whispered to Kurt. You leaned back on the couch, watching the scene unfold with an amused smile.

Logan planted his elbow on the table, his arm flexing as he waited for Remy to grasp his hand. “Don’t cry when you lose,” he said, his smirk widening.

Remy matched his smirk. “You talk big, mon ami . Let’s see if you can back it up.”

The match lasted less than ten seconds. Remy strained, his face turning red as Logan barely budged, his smirk never wavering. With a casual flick of his wrist, Logan slammed Remy’s hand down onto the table.

“Pay up,” Logan said, holding out his hand.

“Dammit,” Remy muttered, pulling out his wallet as the rest of the group burst into laughter.

One by one, Scott, Hank, and even Kurt tried their luck, each meeting the same fate. Hank came the closest, his muscles straining as he almost— almost —managed to push Logan’s arm down, but Logan held firm, finishing the match with a grunt of effort.

“Nice try, big guy,” Logan said, clapping Hank on the shoulder.

“That… was impressive,” Hank admitted, shaking out his arm.

As the guys continued to grumble and tease each other, you stood from the couch, a playful glint in your eye. “Alright, my turn.”

Logan’s head snapped toward you, his expression instantly shifting to something more serious. “No way, sweetheart.”

“Why not?” you challenged, crossing your arms.

“‘Cause I’m not gonna arm wrestle you,” he said firmly. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

You rolled your eyes, stepping closer to the table. “Logan, I’m not made of glass. And besides, you’ve been beating everyone all night. Let me take you down a peg.”

The guys burst into laughter, clearly enjoying the idea.

“Come on, Logan,” Scott said, grinning. “You afraid of your wife?”

Logan shot him a glare. “Watch it, Summers.”

But you weren’t backing down. You moved to the table, sitting across from him and resting your elbow on the surface. “What’s the matter, tough guy? Afraid you might lose?”

Logan let out a low growl, his hazel eyes narrowing. “Fine,” he muttered, leaning forward and clasping your hand in his. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

The moment your hands connected, you felt the rough warmth of his palm against yours, and you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “Ready?”

“Ready,” he rumbled, his eyes locked on yours.

Scott counted down, and the match began. Logan was holding back—you could feel it—but you didn’t mind. You weren’t planning to win with strength.

As he focused on your hands, you tilted your head, giving him a soft, playful look that you knew always got to him. “You know,” you murmured, your voice teasing, “I think this might be the first time I’ve ever seen you look nervous.”

Logan’s grip faltered for a split second, his gaze flicking to your face—and that was all you needed. With a triumphant laugh, you pushed his hand down onto the table, slamming it against the surface.

The room erupted into cheers and laughter as you leaned back, grinning.

“I win,” you declared, holding out your hand to Remy. “Pay up.”

Remy laughed, handing you a crisp hundred-dollar bill. “Remind me never to bet against you, cher.”

Logan shook his head, a grudging smile tugging at his lips. “That was low, darlin’.”

You leaned down, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “All’s fair in love and arm wrestling.”

Scott clapped Logan on the back, laughing. “Looks like the Wolverine’s got a weakness after all.”

“Yeah,” Logan muttered, pulling you into his lap with a smirk. “And I wouldn’t trade her for anything.”

The group dissolved into more laughter and teasing, but all you could focus on was the warmth of Logan’s arms around you, his soft chuckle in your ear as he whispered, “You’re somethin’ else, sweetheart.”

[bokunokamijirou]

lowk hear me out:

post war, touya is recovering in the hospital, and rei comes and visits reader in jail to learn more about her son since they were dating 🥺

A Mother's Word

TouyaxF!Reader

ft. Rei Todoroki

You had told the guards no visitors. You knew if anyone were to come see you, it'd just be to laugh in your face.

The war wasn't kind to you, but it was harsher to your boyfriend, Touya. While he was burning alive with his family, you were attempting to subdue heroes far from your love.

It's what All For One insisted upon, so you had to listen.

But you didn't join the League for him. Not even for Touya. The message that Shigaraki was spreading about a world where people who were seen as villains had the same chances as heroes? That was something you wanted, no, needed to believe in. Your family abandoned you when you were younger, and you'd been running along the streets ever since.

You joined the League and found your new family, purpose, and the love of your life.

You just didn't know what it meant, loving Dabi. Because you didn't love him, no, well- maybe you did. But it was Touya, the man he was when it was just you two, alone- that's who you love.

So, imagine your surprise when you discover his own mother had arrived to visit you. You had only heard short stories about Rei, and you weren't entirely sure what to expect when you met her.

The guards approach you, asking if you'd see her. She hid behind them clutching her bag, but the sadness and exhaustion across her face made you feel sympathetic. He had her eyes, after all.

"Okay, just this once," you manage to croak out as you suddenly feel self-concsious. What could she want? Is Touya recovering still? Is Endeavour coming too? He better not, you'd go feral trying to hurt him. Even if Touya didn't want you to, you'd always hate that man for what he did to his family.

"I- I was just visiting Touya in the hospital yesterday" Rei says quietly as she stands in front of the bars caging you in. "He was asking about you."

"Typical Touya, worried more about me than he is about himself. I'm doing fine..." you reply coldly, avoiding eye contact.

"He- he said he wanted me to meet you." Rei placed her hand gently on the metal bars separating you both.

You stop and glance up at her, the way her eyes were pleading for answers made you freeze. "He said that to me too, before, you know-" you respond softly this time.

"Can you... can you tell me about him?" Rei's voice cracks as she asks.

"About him?" You look at her puzzled.

"My son, he was so young when he disappeared that I- what's he like?" Rei questioned, her eyes wide.

"Touya... Touya he's-" You start and choke back the tears that are trying to fall. "He's an idiot. He doesn't think before he jumps into danger because he's not afraid to die... that's how we met actually." You smile fondly as you wipe the small drops of water off your cheeks.

"I was supposed to just do recon for the League, my first solo mission. But it was a trap and the heroes had me cornered. I didn't know what to do- I froze. I was ready to give up. Then Touya just kind of showed up, right in front of me. Didn't even think twice."

Rei hesitantly smiles as she nods, "That sounds a lot like Touya, glad to know he didn't lose that part of him."

"He's protective, that's for sure. Got jealous easily... whenever they'd send me on missions without him he'd find some way to tag along. I think that ever since we met, it was like he felt he had to protect me... like he was afraid to ever lose me" you start to cry and let your head fall into your hands.

"Oh no, I'm so sorry dear. I didn't mean to make you cry," Rei frowns.

"I love him so much... you created a beautiful son- I just miss him so much" you manage to sob out.

Rei nods, wiping her own tears, “what else do you love about him?”

“He was honest with me… he told me about you all too, before we even started dating…”

Rei freezes, but continues listening.

“He’s a great listener. Lets me talk about anything. And god, when you get him started, he never shuts up…” You smile to yourself. “What I’d do to hear his stupid voice again…”

"He's going to be okay... he's recovering..." She smiles reassuringly but with a pang of sadness.

"Can you tell him something for me the next time you see him?" You ask her hopefully. Rei nods in response.

"No goodbyes, I'll see you soon, idiot." you smile and finally lift your head to meet Rei's eyes once more. She smiles and nods.

You didn’t think this was how you’d meet your future mother-in-law, but your relationship with Touya had never been predictable anyways.

[night-night-stories-before-bed]

Drowning his sorrow until he forget

Warning ⚠️; Alcohol abuse, grief, Shanks getting drunk Spoiler for Red

Pairing; Shanks/Male!Reader

Summary; After such tragedy, Shank came to your island, to your bar in the hope of forgetting. You can only watch him lose himself in your bottles as he denies the reality. You can do nothing, but watch and listen.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The rain fell heavily against the window and the wind howled outside. As you dried your glasses, you watched the trees bend with each blow from the wind, wondering if they would break. Sometimes, lightning would strike, illuminating the sky before thunder would follow and you'd feel its rumble deep in your chest.

For a moment, you wondered if the sky was crying, grieving someone.

But it was ridiculous. The sky was just the sky, it had no feeling and no one would be important enough for it to cry. Yet, you felt a heaviness on your shoulders. Something had happened and you just didn't know what yet.

Your eyes fell on the Den Den Mushi and your mind turned to Shanks. It had been a while since you had seen him. Your lover, your boyfriend… he was something more, something that had no word. Yes, it had been a while since the last time he had come to see you.

Maybe you should give him a call, make sure everything was alright?

You didn't had to. The door to your pub opened abruptly even if it was locked. You turned your head, ready to curse and throw the intruder out only to be met with Shanks. The man stood tall, soaked to the bone. For the first time, you felt fear looking at him. His eyes were dead, empty and you knew, you just knew something bad had happened.

- “Shanks?” Your voice shook as you stepped from behind the counter and walked up to him. “What…”

- “I need a drink. The strongest you got.” He replied, walking pass you as if he didn't truly see you.

You blinked and turned to watch him sat at the counter, head low. You looked outside, expecting the rest of the crew, but there was no one else. You closed the door and went to serve Shanks.

Drink after drink, Shanks emptied your bottles with no sign of the alcohol affecting him. You tried to talk, make him tell you what happened, but the red-haired man stayed quiet. At some point, you took his wrist in your hand and squeezed it. Shanks’ empty eyes looked at you, through you.

- “Shanks, what happened?” You asked slowly, thumb drawing circles on his skin. “Talk to me, you worry me right now.”

- “Nothing. Nothing happened.” Shanks told you, but there was sadness in the emptiness of his voice.

- “Clearly, something did happen. Is the crew alright?”

- “They are all fine.”

You grew frustrated but said nothing. Whatever happened, it impacted Shanks like nothing else before, but if it wasn't the crew who was it? Luffy? No, if something had happened to him you would know, every papers, everyone would be talking about.

It wasn't Ace or White Beard, the anniversary of their death wasn't close.

Besides you and Luffy, Shanks didn't had anyone else…

His daughter.

Uta.

You felt your blood turn to ice at the thought of something happening to his daughter. She was his treasure and he did and sacrificed so much for her. You couldn't imagine a world were she wasn't there even if she must be angry at him.

Your eyes met Shanks’ and he looked down on his drink before he drank it all in one gulp.

Yes. Something had happened to Uta.

- “Uta… its Uta isn't it?”

Under your fingers, you felt him tensing up. It wasn't flesh under your touch, but stone. Shanks’ eyes turned dark, darker than you ever saw, even if it only lasted for a second before sadness replaced it, then emptiness again. He shook his head and freed his wrist from your grip as he took the bottle and drank from it.

- “Uta is fine. She is fine… she’s always going to be fine.” Shanks mumbled like a broken disk.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, resting your chin against his head and closed your eyes. You had no words, not knowing what to say anymore. His reaction was all you needed to know you were right, but his made it impossible to know just how bad the situation was.

Was Uta alive?

Was she... dead?

In your embrace, you felt Shanks relax, melt even as he rested his head against your chest. You passed your fingers through his hair, gently scratching his scalp. And for hours you stayed like that, Shanks drinking in your arms and you just cuddling him, trying to make him feel better.

As he got drunker Shanks began reminiscing about the past. Like the day he found Uta, the same way Roger had found him. His first meeting with Luffy and the day he introduced Uta to him. The first time she sang, the day she ate her devil fruit and all the little things he was proud of her.

You felt his shoulders shake before you realized he was crying. You held him tighter, nuzzling your nose in his hair and closed your eyes, just letting him talk. Shanks let go of the bottle he was drinking, his hand finding your arm and he squeezed it, hard. Hard enough that you knew he would leave a mark.

- “It's my fault. Always my fault. I just fuck up all the time and hurt her when I just want to protect her.” Shanks whispered, voice breaking through his sobs.

You held him tighter, hands clenching at his clothes. He buried his face in the crook of your shoulder, now crying silently and you knew. You just knew.

Uta was no longer alive and, somehow, Shanks was part of the reason.

You didn't had to ask how or what happened to her, Shanks told you himself. He explained about what she did, what she wanted to do and how she ate that damned mushroom that prevented her from sleeping. She had refused the antidote and broke the bottle.

A shiver ran down your spine at the thought of sweet Uta doing all that, plunging people in a deep sleep and controlling them with her singing. It was horrifying and so much unlike her. But it had been years since you last saw your stepdaughter after all. People change as they grow up.

But Uta?

You looked down, taking in the poor state in which Shanks was. Empty bottles surrounded the both of you and your reserve was now almost completely empty, but you didn't care. You brushed your fingers in his hair and Shanks looked up at you, eyes as red as his hair and puffy.

- “It wasn't your fault, Shanks. Uta was a grown woman, she knew better. She was old enough to make her choices.” You said, trying to keep your voice soft. Shanks tried to speak, but you put a finger on his lips to keep him quiet. “You made your choices and they had consequences, yes, but they didn't put her in danger. You kept her safe, safe away from the Gorosei and the World Government, but also from your enemies. Should you have told her the truth? Maybe, but she was a small child Shanks. She would have taken it like she was a monster.”

Your fingers brushed his lips and cheek and Shanks nuzzled his face in your hand. You stroke his cheek with your thumb, resting your forehead against his as he closed his eyes.

- “I am sorry. So, so sorry my love for what happened to her, but you did your best. You are a good dad.” You said, lips brushing against his. “At last, in the end, she forgave you. She loved you as much as you loved her.”

Tears rolled down his cheeks and you dried them. Seeing Shanks so sad, so broken, you hated it. You wanted to wrap him in a warm blanket and keep him in your arms forever. But you couldn't shield him from the pain of losing his child. You could only offer him support.

You cupped his face in your hands and kissed him. Shanks wrapped his arm around you, hand squeezing your hip.

- “C’mon. Enough drinking for now, because I don't have much left for you. Let's get you a warm bath, you are in need of it.”

Shanks nodded and didn't resist when you led him upstairs. You made sure the water was hotter than warm, pouring in oils and bubbles for him to relax. You helped Shanks in after undressing him, your fingers brushing over some bruises as he sat in the bath.

His expression was still empty, broken and you knew it would be a long journey for him to get better. You thought about closing the pub and following him on his adventures. Maybe by being by his side you could help him.

You took your time washing Shanks’ body and hair. All that time, your lover said nothing and just looked down. His body was tense, muscles hard as if he was ready to bounce and fight, but there was no danger. You massaged his shoulders and slowly, Shanks relaxed once again.

You gave more attention to his missing arm, massaging what was left of it. Your fingers traced the scars and you remembered the day he came to you, hiding it as if you would think less of him. You had, of course, been horrified at first, thinking something horrible had happened. But when he told you the story, you had only laughed.

As you massaged what was left of his arm, Shanks turned his head and looked at you. He had a small but soft smile on his lips as if he was amused. You looked at him, chuckling.

- “What?” You asked with a chuckle

- “Sometimes I feel like you love that arm more than me.” He said, drunk, but clearly amused.

You flicked his forehead and laughed.

- “Its part of you, you idiot. Of course, I love it as much as I love you.” You replied, caressing his neck.

Getting Shanks out of the bath proved to be one hell of a task. He was drunker than earlier, the alcohol finally catching with him, meaning he was as graceful as a tree rolling down a hill and so limp it was like holding a plastic bag full of water.

But you managed to dry him up and get him to bed. You wrapped Shanks like a sad burrito in warm blankets before laying down next to him. Shanks had closed his eyes, but you could tell he was still awake.

- “I am not going anywhere.” You whispered, fingers brushing his face. “Give me a few days to close the pub and I’ll follow you.”

That got Shanks attention and he opened his eyes. They were clouded by alcohol, but also hopeful. You smiled, fingers brushing his lips as he spoke softly.

- “Really?”

- “Yeah. You, me, the crew… up for a new adventure. Been years since I took off, you'll have to give me some slack and a place in your bed.”

He laughed. A true laugh coming from deep in his chest as he nodded. Pulling his good arm out of the burrito, he took your hand and you squeezed it gently.

His heart and soul were broken, but you were hopeful he would get better soon. You fell asleep at the same time as him, knowing you made the right choice.

[vesseloflukola]

Let’s talk about “Professional Jealousy”, shall we? I feel like most of us know what this actually means. Actual Professional Jealousy is envy that someone else in your profession is doing better at the job than you; that they are more successful or more recognized. However, Nic and Luke tried to convince us that Professional Jealousy was something different altogether. To them, “Professional Jealousy” was when you become jealous any time your scene partner flirts with, talks to, or has an intimate scene with another actor of the opposite sex who is not yourself.

They were actually just plain jealous of one another. I think it was both apparent to the people they worked with, as well as those of us who listened to their answers in interviews on the World Tour.

I mean, why else would all of the other couples dancing around Nic and Sam (Pen and Debling) be pulled out one by one until only Nic and Sam were dancing together so that they could get such a great jealous reaction from Luke as Colin when he sees his Pen and Lord Debling dancing? Luke actually said “ I have to clarify. I WAS fuming. That was completely legit.” Sir? That was the statement he made where Nicola felt the need to tell the fandom about their “Professional Jealousy” in the first place.

Luke continued to show us how jealous he was whenever Nicola would make a flirty remark toward a male interviewer, or talk about her attraction to either Ryan Gosling or Leonardo DiCaprio. He also really didn’t seem to like her looking deep into Luke Thompson’s eye’s when there were questions over what color they were.

Luke isn’t the only jealous one though. Nic admitted she did not like him flirting with all the ladies in the Ton, and she did not love that he had those brothel scenes. She admitted to already being jealous of his next leading lady (which we now know is Lucy Hale) and reminded him that SHE was his “first fake girlfriend”.

It’s funny, because last time I checked, friends don’t get that kind of jealous of one another. However, people who have deeper feelings do. It’s ironic to me how many people have been trying to say Nic and Luke are “just friends”. They have never once said those words.

Luke has called Nic a lovely friend and his Best Friend. Nic has said that Luke is a very special person in her life and she doesn’t have a relationship with anyone else in her life like the one she has with him. Most recently Nic mentioned that a lot of people would like the two of them to get married. What they have never said is “we are just friends”, “please stop shipping us”, or “why would we get married?”. What they have done is give us crumbs here and there. What they have done is continue to mention or reference one another.

We don’t know for sure that they are currently together, but I believe that they are. What we do know is that the pictures we have seen of them lately, they are both glowing. What we do know is that they are back to filming Season 4 with their Bridgerton family. Coincidence? I don’t think so!

[antispopausandstuff]

stans criticize antis for including the scene of Catra scarring Adora as a child in the cycle of abuse, going on about how she was just a kid, that a kid can't be abusive, etc., but here's the thing:

there's this kid i know and love. they're autistic, non-verbal // limited in speech, and are prone to emotional bursts. they always know more than people think, try to help you if you cry, and absolutely loves sharing food // treats with others and meeting new people.

but there are times i'm scared of them. hell, there's times i, admittedly, hate them.

i understand that they have little impulse control, that they're a child, a disabled one at that, and they don't understand the consequences of hurting someone or maybe even that they're hurting someone at all, but your "fight or flight", your anxiety, your fears, PTSD, etc. does not care who or what it is.

that and, honestly, i still resent my bullies. i know they were kids, too, but that doesn't take away from the pain and embarrassment i felt. for so long, i thought i was completely unlikable, and it was because of them. my ma tried to teach me the "ignore them", "kill them with kindness", "sympathy // empathy" lessons, but none of them worked.

bullying and abuse aren't that different, if they are at all. the victims always suffer, in one way or another, and bullying // abuse can lead to suicide, mental decline, physical decline, and overall ruin your entire fucking life for so long.

i understand that kids are little balls of energy and don't understand the consequences of their actions. my bullies likely thought what happened to me wasn't a big deal or was just a joke. maybe they didn't even have bad intentions in the first place. but that doesn't take away what i've gone through since then, because of them.

Catra was a child, yes, but so was Adora. why do you forget that? any child would be scared of someone, even their best friend in the whole world, if they just suddenly clawed them in the face just for asking "why did you do it?", any child. anyone, in fact.

there's exceptions, but generally speaking, we're afraid of what severely hurts us. Catra severely hurt Adora, just for asking a question that anyone else would've asked.

the cycle of abuse continued when Catra didn't care about Adora's health and safety, meanwhile Adora always cared.

now, after this, it's just speculation, but i had an interesting thought.

Catra punched Lonnie ( presumably, as there's no scar or implication that she clawed her, just that she hit her, and that typically means punching ), but clawed Adora. and hard enough to send her flying halfway across the room.

yeah, Catra was angry with Lonnie ( jealous ), but, ultimately, it's Adora who suffers the worst consequence. the writers obviously let Catra do what she likes, but i think this is just more evidence that she knew, even subconsciously, that Adora wouldn't fight back.

i originally thought that Catra only used her claws against Adora because of her hatred and knowing that Adora wouldn't do anything, but there's something else to consider.

she's clawed Octavia, disabling her, and almost did the same to Lonnie.

now, why would she do that to either of them, when neither have that much important to her, in comparison to Adora?

in the first scene, Catra did it just because she could. just because she thought Octavia was, more or less, ugly.

in the second scene, Catra did it because Lonnie pissed her off. but she's been pissed off before, many times, even to Lonnie, so why only try to claw her now?

to me, it reads as her using her claws on a person ( directly or indirectly ) when she knows the other is defenseless, in some way or form, or as a form of punishment. not necessarily because they have importance to her.

Adora just happened to be the one she wanted to punish the most.

[shadowbriar]

Matt Murdock — Without Me

Pairing : Matt Murdock x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 3.9k Warning : Angst as requested but with fluff ending. Insecurity. Miscommunication/Misunderstanding. Synopsis : She knew, even without bringing the topic to light, that marriage was never an option with him. Notes : this fic was a request. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

It was never easy.

No matter how many years they've spent together, the countless dates they went to, and the umpteen charming moments they've shared, dating Matt Murdock was never easy still.

Lord knows just how hard she tries to turn it off. To stop her mind from wandering to the dark places and to not think of the worst possible scenarios whenever the slightest inconvenience happens. She's tried her best, truly she has, to be a little more nonchalant whenever it comes to him, but it proved to be an impossible task to do. Perhaps when you care about someone a little too much than needed, the chance of keeping one's self collected inevitably becomes impossible.

Foggy and Marci’s wedding invitation laid proud on the coffee table, silently mocking her name whenever she was the only one left in the apartment. She knew, even without bringing the topic to light, that marriage was never an option with him. There’s just too many things in his hands, too many problems laid on his shoulders for him to ever weigh the possibility of matrimony.

She understood, a little too well, the reason for his silence. And though she once dreamed of having a family of her own, having mini versions of her and him running around the apartment and knocking over the cup of tea that would stain their rugged carpet, she’s learned to bury such thoughts in the deepest pit of her heart. She reckons, sacrificing something that she’s never had before would be less painful than losing the one she already has.

Five years of being loved by Matt Murdock would certainly make you a little too attached to the man.

But even with his gentle touch, the sweet nothings he whispered in her ears and the embrace he would always blanket her nights with, fear was never kept too far away. As much as she loves and understands him, as much as he worships and adores her, Matt was never an easy riddle to solve. His mind works with such complexity she’d never truly decipher. Oftentimes his actions speak much louder than his words and the past few days have only served as the new demons she has to battle with at night.

There’s always been more paperwork, more cases that needed his urgent attention before he could excuse himself out of the office, and even when his job was done, his other calls would already become too urgent for him to ignore. One too many rain checks done for their dates, that she couldn’t even bother asking if they could find a replacement date. Matt’s a busy man, his growing reputation and the demand Daredevil would have to serve at night were something she’s accepted, what she’s yet to understand, however, is his lack of communication. There were less words, less explanations and reassurance for her to hold on to. The blackhole that she’s currently drowning in was quiet and deadly. Something that he would not notice with the lack of presence.

Now she sits alone in their apartment, eyes vacant and barely blinking while her brain haywired. Perhaps this sudden change of action was caused by her wrongdoings. She tries to trace down every possible mistake she might have made, every misspoken word and unintentional actions, in an attempt to find a way to fix it. To apologise for whatever fault she’s committed before the sin stained a little too deep to ever be fixed.

If this was anyone else, she would’ve been upfront and ask if there’s anything wrong, confront the issue head-on without a care in the world, but this is Matt. He pushes people as easily as he draws them. One wrong movement and she fears all hell would break loose for them.

“Baby?” she heard Matt call, turning her head to see him entering from the staircase “What are you still doing up? It’s late.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” she answers, walking to him and taking his helmet away “Was it an easy patrol?”

“Quite, yeah. Not too bad but not too boring either,” he says with a grin “I’ve missed you.”

She sighs, letting his hands rest on her waist while hers encircle his neck, “Yeah, well, you’ve been busy.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” he says regretfully “Say, why don’t we go to that restaurant you’ve been wanting to try? The Italian one? How about this Friday, will you be free then?”

“I don’t know, will you? You’re the one who’s been so occupied lately.”

“I’ll be free on Friday, I promise,” he says excitedly, stealing a peck on her lips “So what do you say? Friday after work?”

Another tired sigh escapes her. Moments like this melts her worry away. Staring into his beautiful face, seeing that charming smile tugged on the corner of his lips, while his body was pressed against her. But as much as she treasures this, as much as she appreciates the comfort he could always bring her, she knew that the dark cloud would return the moment he’s out of her sight.

Gently, she leans in and kisses him. Matt’s grip on her shirt tightens, smiling between the kiss in satisfaction. Perhaps he misses her just as much as she missed him.

“Friday, it is.”

—-

She peeled herself off of the blanket with a huge sigh. The other side of the bed was cold, signifying that he’s been out for quite some time but she couldn’t find it in herself to frown. They do have a date afterwards. Perhaps Matt just wanted to make sure that he’s done all his work on time before they could escape their hectic lives for an hour or two.

It was still early for her to get ready for work, but coming early and finishing her tasks as soon as possible so she could have more time to doll herself up before the date sounds like a better plan to do. She sits up from the bed, hand carelessly reaching for the hair tie on the bedside table before knocking Matt’s phone in the process.

She picks up the item, thinking that it was one of the rare occurrences for him to forget his belongings. Reckon she really needs to get ready now so she could drop by his office and give him his phone, but her frown grows when someone calls.

“Hello?” she says as she picks it up.

“Oh, shit,” the other end of the line says before hanging up.

It was a woman. A voice that she was unfamiliar with. The twist in her gut grew, spreading through her veins like venom. She’s never one to pry on Matt’s phone, always confident in his loyalty, but given his absence and the strange call, her fingers couldn’t stop themselves from punching the passcode.

There was no text history with the caller, but there were several call logs, dating far into the past few weeks when he started to be ‘busy’. She wanted to call back the woman, ask her who she is and why she has been on frequent calls with her boyfriend, but she was too scared to face the possible truth. Too afraid to welcome the pour of the icy reality— that he’s found someone else.

“Oh, you’re up!” Matt says, cheeks flushed with slight panting “I forgot my phone.”

“Yeah, I know,” she answers, her voice caught in her throat. Still trying to process the event that’s just happened and how to act in front of him “I— Someone— Gwyneth called.”

“Oh,” his tongue darts to lick his lips, visibly looking nervous now “What did she say?”

“Nothing, she— She hung up.”

“Your heart is beating fast,” Matt notes “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just— Did you run back here?”

“I did, yeah. I was already at the office when I realised I'd forgotten my phone. I need it for the case I’m currently working on,” he answers, walking to her with careful steps “Can I have it, please?”

She swallows the lump in her throat, handing him the item in silence.

“Thank you,” Matt says, placing a kiss on the crown of her head “Listen, I have to run back, I’m having a meeting with a client in five minutes. I’ll see you later for our date, okay?”

She was still silent, breath hitched and sweats forming in the back of her neck.

“Baby?”

“Yeah, okay,” she finally answers, looking up to meet his eyes “I’ll see you later.”

Matt hesitated. He looks as if he was debating to ask something, looking conflicted over whatever it is that might be troubling his mind but the words died in his tongue. Perhaps unsure if he would want to pour petrol over the turmoil that’s evidently building between them. His finger taps on the phone in his palm as he says instead, “I love you.”

She forces a smile, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to see it but it was the only attempt she could pull to suppress the tears that were slowly watering her eyes, “I know.”

“You’re not gonna say it back?”

“You know I love you,” She says, kissing the back of his hand that was holding the phone “Go, you’re going to be late for the meeting.”

Matt smiles, stealing a kiss from her lips before heading back out.

—-

Her breathing was rigid. The movement of her chest forced as if trying her best to compose herself. Her lips were pressed in a tight smile, chewing her meal silently as she tried to focus on the words Matt was saying.

She tries, God knows she tries, to forget about this morning’s incident. Perhaps Gwyneth was the client he was supposed to meet. It surely isn't strange for him to have frequent calls with her if that was the case, but why does it feel wrong? Why does it feel like there’s something bigger that she wasn’t aware of? Why does it feel as if there was something Matt wasn’t telling?

“Love,” Matt calls, taking her hand slowly in his “Are you alright? You’ve been awfully quiet.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she lies through her teeth.

“Are you sure? Your heart has been beating like crazy all night.”

“Yeah, well, maybe stop listening to my heartbeat for once, Matt.”

The smile on his face waters, surprised to hear her bitter spat.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound as cruel,” she sighs, taking her hand away from him to rub her temples “I just have a lot of things in mind.”

Matt sighs, nodding in understanding, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Yes, she wanted to say, let’s talk about the affair you’re having behind me.

But is she ready? Is she ready to be stripped off of the fantasy that she’s tried so hard to build with him? Is she ready to bid goodbye to all the dreams and hopes she’s made with him? Is she ready to accept the fact that there would be no Matt in her future?

It was pathetic, sure, to hold on to the last strings of hope when the most possible outcome is laid bare in front of her. To be stubborn for once against the demons that are torturing her mind. But Matt is the only good thing in her life she’d never be ready to lose. He is the one thing she would rather risk her life for than to ever be separated from. Even if she has to turn a blind eye and pretend as if the romance they’re living in was pure and innocent.

“No, it’s fine,” she says, letting out a sigh to collect her composure “How’s your meeting? Did it go well?”

“Splendid. Listen, I have something to talk to you about,” he says, deflecting the topic. Matt takes a nervous gulp. His hands are now under the table, invisible to her eyes “I– Uh, I don’t know where to start.”

A sharp gasp escaped her lips as the tears threatened to form on her eyes. This must be it. The nervousness that has been bleeding out of him, the continuous rambling he does the whole night to mask his uneasiness, the way he keeps on rubbing his palm on his trousers. This must be it. This must be their end.

“You know how we’ve been together for quite some time now,” Matt starts, his hands still hidden under the table “I know five years with me must not have been the easiest for you. I know just how difficult it could be, living with me and accepting the life that I’m living in. I know that we didn’t always have sunshine and rainbows. Most of the time we have storms and thunders, really, yet we’re still here. You’re still here,” He says gently, his left hand reaching for hers “I know that you deserve better, that you can find someone better—”

She abruptly stood on her feet, letting his hand go in the process that he retreats it fast and hides it under the table once again. Her breathing was heavy, tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Matt asks with a worried tone, still sitting on his seat.

“I have to get out of here.”

“W-What?”

She spared him no other word, grabbing her purse and bolting herself out of the restaurant.

Her heart was hammering inside her chest. By the time she hailed for a taxi, her cheeks were already wet with tears. The night she’s been looking forward to, the one date she hoped would flush all of her worries down the drain, turns out to be her worst nightmare. Never would she ever expect Matt to be this cruel. To lead her on, promising a lovely date when they haven’t seen each other for so long, only to break up with her before the clock strikes at nine. With an illicit affair she wasn’t aware of until the very morning, should one add.

“Wait, wait,” Matt says, stopping the taxi door before it closes “Where are you going? What happened?”

“Just leave me alone, Matt, please,” she begs through her tears.

“Baby, why are you crying?”

“Leave me alone, Matt. I don’t want to see you tonight.”

“I— What did I do?”

“Just— Please, don’t make it any harder than it already is.”

Matt was appalled, confused as to what might trigger this response, but he could feel just how upset she was. Her body was shaking, fingers trembling as they frantically wiped the tears that kept on flowing. Never had he ever seen her this distraught and Matt was scared that he would do more harm than good to try and talk with her about it, so he surrenders, “Okay, we’ll go home, okay? Let me just pay for dinner first.”

“No, I’m not going home. I told you, I don’t want to see you, okay!” She says, this time with a raise of voice as her anger slowly seeps in “I just want you to leave me alone, is that really too much to ask for?”

Hurt was evident on his face now, but she was too caught up with her own emotions to notice it.

“Please, Matt,” She begs, her voice hoarse in plea “Please let me go.”

Matt nods, ceasing his last attempt to hold her as he closes the taxi door. He listens as the driver steps on the gas, driving her away to wherever it is she might go. Though the car drives further from him, the sound of her sobs only grows louder in his ear. He wasn’t sure what he did, what he said that might have prompted this response, but whatever it is, he knew that he’s royally ruined what could’ve been the best night of their lives.

—-

It has been a week since she fled Hell’s Kitchen. She knew that there’s no corner in the city that he wouldn’t scour to find her, so she had to go a little farther to find shelter. She needed time and space to think, to take in the cruel reality that has finally caught up with her, before she could take baby steps towards acceptance. 

On the second day, she no longer breaks in tears whenever she looks into her phone and see the many messages Matt has left. By the fourth day, she could partly accept the fact that their ship had sunk. That trying to mend what’s been broken would only restrain him from his freedom, from loving the one person he might actually meant to be with. She loves him, too much for words to ever truly express it, but if being with another woman brings him better happiness, then she would sacrifice herself and blow the candle out. She would let him go.

The suffocation she feels in her lungs the moment she steps in the apartment was unbearable but she dragged her feet still. She whispers her silent goodbye, fingers tracing the walls of the apartment that she would soon leave. Her eyes study the surroundings, memorising each detail of Matt’s loft that she loved so much before she’s no longer welcomed.

She wonders if whoever would live with him next would keep the flower vase by the window. She wonders if they would change the lights in the living room. She wonders if they would paint the walls and fix the squeaky bathroom door. She wonders just how much of her remnants would be left untouched.

“You’re home,” Matt greets, breathless as if he just jolted out of bed.

It’s clear to see that he was in a wreck. The stubbles on his face were unkempt, new bruises littering his body. Matt looks defeated. Like he’s been dragged through a losing war and shattered beyond saving.

“I’m just here to take my things,” she says with a shaky voice, trying her best to keep herself calm and collected “I won’t take long. I’ll take whatever I couldn’t pack today on the weekends.”

“Where are you going?” He frowns, tilting his head a little in confusion “Why are you leaving?”

“Well, I’ve held you back long enough, haven’t I? It’s about time I let you go,” she says with a heartbroken sniffle, forcing a self-pitying smile “I won’t keep you from anyone, anymore. You’re free.”

Matt takes a few steps closer, his brows knitted as he finds himself further lost in the conversation, “Hold me back— Free— What are you talking about?”

“It’s what you wanted, isn’t it? The other night? You wanted to break up with me,” she explains, swallowing the hard pill “I understand. I’ve accepted it, too. We don’t have to go through that conversation again.”

“Break up— What?”

“Matt, don’t play dumb with me,” she says with her patience wearing thin “I know everything. I know why you’ve been so busy lately. I know about your affair with Gwyneth, I know it all.”

“Affair? Gwyneth?” Matt questions, running a hand through his hair as he tries to place the puzzle pieces together “What are you talking about?”

“Look, you can really stop being a douche and just get off with it, alright? Do you really expect me to spell it to you? You cheated on me with Gwyneth. There, I said it.”

“I— What makes you think that I cheated on you with her?”

“Well, you’ve been gone. You have lots of call logs with her and they all aligned to the days when you started being distant. And that day when she called, she hung up because she heard my voice, didn’t she? She was scared that I’d find out about you two, well, guess what, I did.”

Matt’s lips were parted. The crease on his forehead was still deep as he tried to let her words sink in. He visibly looks baffled to the point that she starts to wonder if she’s making the right sense, but she wouldn’t let that puppy eye and innocent look on his face water her walls down. She’s given more than enough understanding for him to ever play her this way.

“Well? What do you have to say about yourself?” she asks, folding her hands in front of her chest “No arguments to defend yourself, Mr. Attorney?”

The corners of his lips tugged upward as he let out a satisfied sigh. Colours returned to his face the moment his brain caught up with her words. Like a lighting bulb glowing after it's been switched on. Without a word, Matt walks back to the bedroom. He returned not even a minute later with a small box in his hand.

“I have not been cheating on you,” he begins, taking one of her hands gently “I would never, ever, betray us like that. I love you too much to ever think about anyone else.”

“But Gwyneth—,”

“Gwyneth is a jeweller that has been helping me find the right ring for someone,” Matt cuts in, opening the box for her to see “I didn’t know what kind of ring you’d like, what design or what gem you’d like on it, so I looked for some personal jeweller to help me out.”

She was left speechless, looking down to the ring with utter embarrassment.

“When you picked up her call, she was trying to tell me that the ring was ready, but she didn’t expect you to answer. She was caught off guard, scared that she might spoil your surprise.”

Her head hangs low. Just how ridiculously stupid could she be. She was ashamed of thinking the worst, labelling names on Matt that should never have even crossed her mind. How is she supposed to apologise now after ruining their moment? After tainting their relationship red? Would she even have the chance to mend what she’s broken when she’s betrayed the trust between them?

“Hey,” Matt calls, holding her chin up gently “I've never cheated on you. There was never anyone else and there will never be. There’s only you, just you, and no one else.”

“I’m sorry,” she cries “I’m so, so sorry.”

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s just a misunderstanding,” he says with a chuckle, pulling her for a hug and rubbing her back “It’s okay, Baby. It’s my fault for being too occupied too, I’m sorry.”

“No, you don’t get to apologise, okay? It’s only going to make me feel worse,” she sobs in his embrace “I should’ve known better. I should’ve trusted you or at the very least asked about Gwyneth, before jumping into conclusions.”

“Well, honestly, if you asked me about her, I wouldn’t have known what to say either. I’m not the best of a liar in front of you,” he answers, letting out a sigh “That morning I knew your heart was beating erratically but I was too scared to ask because I didn’t want you to ask about her. I didn’t have the answers to give without spoiling the surprise.”

She let go of the hug, wiping her tears while his hands still rested on her waist, “I’m sorry I ruined the surprise.”

“It doesn’t really matter. What matters is your answer,” Matt says with a nervous smile, letting go of his hold and kneeling in front of her now “I’m just gonna keep it short before either of us falls into another misunderstanding,” he says before the two of them break into a short laughter “Will you marry me?”

Her grin spreads, nodding as she kneels to his level, “Yes, yes, of course.”

Matt beams as he slips the ring on her finger. A satisfied exhale came out of him. Like he's just successfully removed mountains from his own shoulders. He pulls her for a kiss, hands cupping on cheeks gently, “I love you.”

“I love you, Matt Murdock,” she answers, her hand combing the strands of his hair with her fingers “You’re really a wreck without me, huh?”

He lets out a sigh, stealing another kiss through their laughter, “You have no idea.”

[queenvhagar]

You know, I think one of the reasons why Rhaenyra was so incompetent in handling political matters is because she never had to play the game of thrones properly. The premise of the game is that if you make a mistake, you die, and as long as you win, you have one more day of life. But our pampered princess could make mistakes, create scandals, and disrespect whoever she wanted, whenever and however she wanted, without any problem because her dear father was there to save her, mitigate the damages, or protect her. That's why, when Viserys dies and she has to take control, she fails. She can't control her husband; her few political victories were thanks to her husband, son, or Hand, and when she takes the capital, she doesn't know how to handle the people properly, and they rebel against her. She has a council full of incompetents who care more about their own interests than hers, and she doesn't know how to get rid of them because she's afraid of losing their support. Yet, the fans TB claim that she was going to be a legendary queen when, most likely, her Hand, husband, and advisors would have made the important decisions, as happened with Viserys. What do you think?

The problem with Rhaenyra comes down to a couple things, in my opinion.

First, she's never really meaningfully had to play the game of thrones due to her unique position in society as a Targaryen dragonrider, the king's favorite princess, and heir to the throne. This leads her to be sheltered from real world consequences to her actions. It reminds me a bit of the line from Succession about how their father made them a playground and they think it's the whole world. She lives in an incredibly privileged bubble, and within that bubble, protected by her father, she is emboldened to act how she likes with little thought or care to how others perceive her and how her actions would be interpreted by others. Once she marries Daemon, he becomes another reinforcement to that bubble. He encourages the idea that people should fear them and submit to them. Within their bubble, and due to their unique positions as Targaryen dragonriders with the king's favor, he suggests they make moves in the political game that silence dissidents and inspire fear. However, still these actions in the "game" are somewhat divorced from the actual game of thrones that others are playing, where if you lose you die.

And second, and in this I see her paralleled with Cersei... Rhaenyra thinks she's smarter than she is and that she can play the game better than anyone else. It's the classic Targaryen superiority complex coupled with privilege. She sees her unique position of power and uses it to "get away with" a lot of things. She knows she has influence over the king, and she uses it. She knows she has Daemon, and she uses him (as he uses her). But once again, the moves she's making are in this protected bubble. And even though she thinks she's truly getting away with all of the things she is, for good and for the long-term, the reality is really something different. Back to that quote of thinking the playground was the entire world... Rhaenyra thinks she's being clever in passing obvious bastards as trueborn heirs. She thinks she's being clever in leveraging her father's and Daemon's favor to her benefit. But she's not. She's detached from the political reality of the world. And by the time she's set to be handed the grand prize from her dad, there are actual real barriers to getting what she wants, because she finds that others have played the game better than her, and she's absolutely blindsided and shocked that this is the case. Because she never had to really, meaningfully play the game before, and she really doesn't understand how the real game is played and what the stakes are. She truly thought she was playing the real game perfectly for so long, and then she discovered that the actual game she needed to play was different and that others had played it better. Her actions during the Dance are her attempting to grasp the reality of the real game of thrones and failing to play it well, demonstrating her incompetence and resulting in her loss of power.

[cigsaftersuh]

૮ the chosen one ྀིა .ᐟ

the room felt suffocating in its silence, the kind that wasn’t peaceful but heavy and crushing. jaehyun hadn’t said a word since you both crawled into his bed, his back pressed against the headboard as he stared blankly ahead. his eyes were distant, but you could still see the raw pain lingering in them, the words from earlier still cutting into him like shards of glass.

you sat beside him, close but not close enough, your hands gripping the blanket in your lap as you tried to figure out how to break through the walls he was putting up. finally, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“jae…” your voice came out smaller than you intended, holding the emotion yours couldn’t. “please don’t shut me out.”

he didn’t look at you right away. his jaw clenched, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. “what do you want me to say?” his voice was hoarse, barely audible. “that she’s right? that we’re a mistake?”

“don’t,” you said sharply, your own voice cracking as tears pricked your eyes. “stop punishing yourself for something that isn’t true. i chose you because you’re everything i’ve ever wanted. because i love you.”

he let out a bitter laugh, his hands gripping the fabric of his sweatpants like he was holding himself together by a thread. “how can i not? she said everything i’ve been afraid of since the day we got married. that i’m ruining your life. that i’m not enough for you. i love you too much to let you ruin yourself for me.”

“stop,” you said, your voice breaking as you reached for his hand, but he pulled away, his head shaking. “jae, look at me—”

“no,” he cut you off, his voice rising slightly, though it was laced with desperation rather than anger. “you don’t get it. i’ve heard people talk about us before, but this- this was different. it was her. someone from my own family. and the worst part is, i can’t even tell if she’s wrong.”

your heart shattered at his words, and tears spilled down your cheeks as you scooted closer, placing a trembling hand on his arm. “jaehyun, she is wrong. she doesn’t know what we’ve been through, how hard we’ve fought to be where we are.”

“but what if she’s right?” he whispered, his voice cracking as he finally turned to look at you, his eyes filled with tears that refused to fall. “what if you wake up one day and realize this was all a mistake? that you deserve more than me?”

his words broke something in you, and before you even realized what you were doing, you threw your arms around him, holding him tightly. “don’t you dare say that,” you sobbed into his shoulder. “don’t you dare think for a second that you’re not enough for me. i chose you, jaehyun. i chose you because i love you more than anything in this world.”

he froze for a moment, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but then his walls crumbled. his arms wrapped around you, clutching you like a lifeline as the tears he’d been holding back finally fell. his body shook against yours, and the sound of his quiet sobs broke your heart all over again.

“i’m so sorry,” he choked out, his voice muffled against your neck. “i’m sorry you had to hear her say those things. i’m sorry i can’t protect you from people like her. i’m sorry for—”

“stop apologizing,” you interrupted, pulling back just enough to cup his face in your hands. his cheeks were wet with tears, and his eyes were red and swollen, but to you, he was still the most beautiful person you’d ever seen. “none of this is your fault, jae. you’ve given me everything — your love, your trust, your heart. that’s all i’ve ever needed.”

he shook his head, his lips trembling as fresh tears slipped down his cheeks. “but what if that’s not enough? what if i can’t be the person you need me to be?”

“you already are,” you said fiercely, your thumbs brushing away his tears. “you’re my everything, jae. you always have been. i don’t care what anyone else says, because they don’t know you like i do. they don’t know how we are.”

he stared at you, his expression crumbling as more tears spilled over. “you’re too good for me,” he whispered, his voice so broken it made your chest ache.

“no,” you said softly, pressing your forehead against his. “we’re good for each other, jae. and i’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you if i have to.”

he shook his head, his expression crumbling as he wiped furiously at his eyes. “i don’t deserve you,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “i never have.”

your chest tightened, and you felt your own resolve breaking. without thinking, you scooted closer, reaching out to cup his face in your trembling hands. he stiffened at first, but you didn’t let go. “jaehyun, listen to me,” you said, your voice thick with emotion. “you are not a mistake. this, us, we’re not a mistake. we’re young, we’re figuring it out, but that doesn’t mean we’re wrong for each other.”

he closed his eyes, leaning into your touch as if he wanted to believe you but couldn’t quite bring himself to. “but what if i can’t be enough for you? what if i can’t give you the life you deserve?”

“you already are enough,” you said, your voice cracking as you brushed a tear from his cheek with your thumb. “you’re enough for me in every way that matters. do you even realize how much i love you? how much i need you?”

his eyes opened, and the vulnerability you saw there made your heart shatter all over again. “but what if—”

“stop doubting yourself, doubting us. yes, it’s hard. yes, people will have opinions. but none of that changes how much i love you. how much i believe in you, in us.” you pleaded, your hands tightening on his face.

he pulled you into his arms so tightly it was almost suffocating. his body shook against yours, quiet sobs racking his chest as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. “i’m so scared,” he whispered, his voice broken and raw. “i’m so scared of losing you.”

you held him just as tightly, your own tears soaking into his shirt as you ran your fingers through his hair, soothing him as best you could. “you’re not going to lose me,” you whispered fiercely. “not now, not ever. i’m here, jae. i’m always going to be here.”

he clung to you like a lifeline, his hands gripping the fabric of your shirt as if letting go would make you disappear. “i don’t know what i’d do without you,” he choked out, his voice muffled against your shoulder.

“you won’t ever have to find out,” you said, pressing a kiss to the side of his head.

the vulnerability in his eyes was almost unbearable, but when you leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to his lips, he melted into you completely. his hands moved to cup your face, his touch tender yet desperate, like he was afraid you might slip away if he let go.

when you finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and his breathing was still uneven, but there was a newfound softness in his gaze. “i love you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“i love you more,” you said, a tearful smile tugging at your lips. “and i’m not going anywhere, jae. not ever.”

he pulled you into his arms again, holding you so tightly it was as if he was trying to fuse your bodies together. his tears had slowed, but the way his hands trembled as they ran soothingly up and down your back told you he wasn’t completely okay yet — and that was fine. you would stay here with him for as long as he needed.

as the minutes passed, the weight in the room began to lift, replaced by a quiet, fragile sense of peace. jaehyun pressed a kiss to your hair, his lips lingering there as he whispered, “thank you.”

“for what?” you asked softly, your voice muffled against his chest.

“for choosing me,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “for loving me. for staying.”

you tightened your arms around him, your heart swelling with a love so strong it threatened to overwhelm you. “always, jaehyun,” you whispered. “i’ll always choose you.”

and as you lay there together, tangled in each other’s arms, you knew that no matter what anyone said, no matter how hard things got, the love you shared would always be enough. because at the end of the day, you had each other—and that was everything.

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ㅡ my forever only.

with love,

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[freebooter4ever]

dear mom, one day ill be living in a big old city and all youll ever be is mean :)

[thats-sir-dyke-to-you]

When it comes to hygiene tasks and self care with disability and chronic illness, its pretty much a constant case of: don't let perfect be the enemy of the good.

Basically: it's better to do something, than to do nothing at all.

TLDR: Just because you can't do something "properly" doesn't mean you shouldn't do it at all. Do it half-way. Do it shitty. Do it barely. Do it on a technicality. But do what you can. Just try, because doing something will help you.

If you don't have the energy to scrub your body with a sponge, just rub soap over your skin with your hands.

If you don't have the energy to wash your whole body with soap, just hit the places where sweat accumulates, or where you're smelliest.

If you don't have the energy to wash with soap AT ALL, just sitting in water is better than nothing. It will wash away dirt and oils.

If you can't bathe or shower at all, a warm wash cloth is your new best friend. If that's too much, then try bath wipes. They're a bit bigger than regular wet wipes, and a bit more heavy duty. They're designed to help keep bed ridden patients clean in hospitals.

If you don't have the energy to dry yourself after a bath or a shower, just put on a bathrobe and get into bed. If you don't have the energy to get dressed afterwards, just don't. It can wait until you can.

If you don't have energy to brush your teeth for two minutes, honestly, just a cursory scrub is better than not doing anything.

If you can't brush your teeth twice a day, brush in the evenings. It will help take away the build up of food from the day.

If you don't have the energy to brush AT ALL, honestly, just take a cloth and wipe the plaque off your teeth. Rinse with mouth wash after if you'd like. Something is always better than nothing.

If you can't floss twice a day. Try once. If that's too much, try a few times a week. If that's too much, try setting aside a day once a week as a goal. If you can't keep a schedule, do it when you're able to. Hell, I keep some floss next to my bed so that if I forget and don't have the energy to go get it, I can just reach over.

If you can't iron your clothes, don't bother. Wrinkles are fine. Wear jumpers over wrinkly t-shirts. No one will know, and honestly, most people won't even care. If it's really wrinkly and it's A Big Deal And It Needs To Be Ironed, here's my life hack. Step 1: take a spray bottle, and spritz the item of clothing (while you're wearing it is easiest) until it's lightly damp. Step 2: use a hair-dryer on the clothes until they're dry. It gets rid of creases like nobody's business, it's easier than lugging out the iron and ironing board, and you get to have nice toasty warm clothes afterwards.

If you can't fold your clothes, try just hanging them up. It's less commitment. It's quicker to do. Granted, you need to have the space in order to do this, but it is also good at helping you downsize, and lets you visualise exactly what you have.

If you can't put your clothes away, invest in a couple of laundry baskets, and then just keep your clean clothes in the baskets. You can then separate washed clothes into underwear, pants, and shirts baskets. You can just leave them like that. I'm giving you permission to never fold your laundry again if you can't. Just leave it unfolded. Who's going to care? Something is better than nothing. If you can, try to put those baskets into your closet so that you can keep the clutter out of sight, and give yourself a more restful environment.

If you can't separate your clothing out into different categories and wash them "properly" (whites, warm tones, cool tones, darks, delicates / switching between hot & cold washes / paying attention to laundry instructions on the label) then just don't worry about it. If you cold wash your clothes, colours won't bleed. Maybe gradually over the course of dozens of washes there'll be some changes in hue, but it's really not as high stakes as the One Red Sock In The Whites Turns Them Pink trope makes it out to be.

I've pretty much come to the point in my life where if a piece of clothing can't survive the washer and dryer, then it's just not meant to be. I colour separate my clothes, and if I have the energy/remember I'll take my bras and jumpers out of the washing machine to drip dry. But otherwise, I leave it to the universe.

If you can't separate out your recycling, then don't. If you have a large amount of rubbish you need to get rid of but the idea of separating it out properly is stopping you from doing so, then just don't worry about it. I know it's not ideal, but if you have garbage in your room/house and you need to get rid of it, please just get rid of it. Don't let the problem get bigger and harder to deal with. Don't let "doing something properly" get in the way of keeping your living spaces clean. Please. Give yourself understanding.

If you can't wash your dishes, get paper plates. Obviously, it's not ideal, but it is better that you eat food than skipping meals. It is better that you have a clean kitchen, rather than having dishes piling up and making it harder to look after yourself.

If you can't prepare meals for yourself keep making the tasks easier and easier. If you can't do recipes, then simplify. Use pasta sauce from the jar instead of making it. Eat canned soup. Buy food you can just stick in the oven. If you eat fish fingers and microwave veggies every night, it's better than not eating anything at all. It's better than having to fork out money on take-out. If you need ready-made meals, then get them. If you're literally just eating a raw cauliflower for dinner; 1) I see you, 2) me too, sis, 3) something is better than nothing.

These are the basic things you need to do every day to function as a person. They are your activities of daily living. Brushing your teeth. Bathing or showering. Using the bathroom. Getting dressed. Eating. Drinking. Sleeping. Keeping your environment clean. You don't need to do these things perfectly, but they need to happen in order for you to have a decent quality of life.

And it breaks my heart, because I know that so many disabled people can't do these things every day. I'm not saying this to guilt or judge, I'm saying that these are basic needs; you deserve these things. These things bring dignity. If a disabled person is unable to do these things, it diminishes their quality of life. It robs them of dignity.

If you need help to do these things, Its okay to ask for help. It's okay to need help. But if you can't get that help and you have to do these things by yourself -- or you just plain want to be independent and do it without help-- then don't hold yourself to standards you can't meet.

Don't let perfect be the enemy of the good. Doing something is always better than doing nothing. Even if it's not perfect. Even if it's not done well. Do what you can.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[softshuji]

Any men out there wanna pretend to be my bf to get my parents off my case about marriage? I am so so serious right now.

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

it's like. everything happens so much. it's all happening right now but at the same time nothing is happening whatsoever. it's a liminal space of an existence. it's slowly crushing me under the weight but when I look up there's nothing actually bearing down on me. there shouldn't be any weight. something is wrong but nothing has happened. I'm simultaneously overwhelmed and utterly bored. nothing is happening and maybe that's the everything that's happening. maybe the everything is the nothing. we aren't there yet but it's all so imminent. either everything is going to crash down or nothing is. I'm just waiting to figure out which.