#starting with the people i personally know who do this shit

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (44/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Let's get this party started!

Warnings: 18+ (mentions of previous smut), alcohol consumption, slight jealousy, a kiss

Word Count: 3.6k

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A/N: we love girls girls. happy Sunday to everyone! feedback is appreciated!

Your little heels click on the asphalt of the streets of Monaco as Kika and you walk towards the club, arms hooked and cheeks warm from the wine. Cold wind blows in your faces. 

“I was so happy when Charles invited us to come with you,” Kika smiles and lays her head on your shoulder, which is certainly quite uncomfortable due to your uneven pace. But she doesn't seem to care. 

You rest your cheek against her top of her head. "I didn't even know that you were coming tonight until a few hours ago," you say. 

“He apparently only messaged Pierre today and asked,” the Portuguese woman says, lifting her head from your shoulder. "Very spontaneous. But all the better that it worked.”

You smile at her. "That's true.”

Together you turn a corner and immediately the club on the other side of the street catches your eye. Neon signs, which somehow don't fit with the rest of the city's atmosphere, draw attention to the building and the closer you get, the louder the music seems to get, penetrating through the walls. A few people are standing in front of the double doors, guarded by security guards dressed in black, discussing admission. 

When you see the clipboards in the hands of the broad-built men, you stop abruptly, causing Kika to almost trip and bump into you. 

“Are you okay? What's wrong?” she asks, looking at you in confusion. 

Nervously, you nod in the direction of the club. ”They have clipboards.”

Kika looks at the bouncers and then back at you. “No shit, Sherlock. That's where the guest list is,” she replies and tries to pull you a little further. “Why are you stopping? Have you changed your mind? Don't you want to party?”

“Yes, I do,” you reply hesitantly. “But how do we get in there if they have a guest list?”

A grin spreads across Kika's beautiful face before she puts her arm around you and pushes you forward. “Do you really doubt that we'll get in?” she asks, and when she catches your nervous glance, she pulls you closer. “You were invited by a Formula 1 driver, querida. You're the last person who needs to worry.”

As you cross the street and stand behind the people who are still arguing with the bouncers, you realize how different your life seems to be now. 

Ten days ago, you were worried about how you would pay your rent if you didn't find a job – and now you're spending nights on yachts, your best friend is a model and you're partying with Formula 1 drivers in Monaco's most chic clubs. And you're even living with one of them.

And you love him too. 

The bouncers don't seem to be giving in, and the more unyielding they look, the more annoyed the men in their black suits appear. As people try to negotiate their entry and wave banknotes in their hands, the men look past them and nod to you. 

Without hesitation, Kika pulls you through the crowd and comes to a stop in front of the entrance doors. She is about to open her mouth when one of the bouncers takes a step to the side and smiles at you. “Good evening, ladies,” he says in a deep voice, holding the door open for you. “Mr. Norris is expecting you.”

“Thank you very much,” Kika replies with a broad smile, quickly pulling you along behind her so that you can only say a quiet ‘thank you’ to the two men before the club's double doors close behind you and you are enveloped in dim light, warm air and music that gets louder with every step you take. 

“See? That wasn't so hard,” your friend grins, and together you walk down a short hallway before entering a large room. To your left are a few seating areas on an ampore, some open and others roped off. To your right is a long bar stretching across the room, with lots of people already gathered around it. And right in front of you – there's the dance floor. 

At the back is the DJ booth, currently manned by a woman who seems to know exactly what the crowd wants to hear. With precision and skill, she flows from one song to the next without you really noticing, and the audience is eating out of her hands. 

“Hello, you two beauties,” someone suddenly says behind you, and when you turn around, you see Lando's face. He's wearing a white shirt, the top buttons casually undone so that part of his chest can be seen. With arms outstretched, he hugs Kika first before pulling you close and planting a kiss on your cheek. “How are you? How was Christmas?” he asks, taking each of your hands to pull you to the seating areas on the left. He briefly lets go of Kika's hand to untie one of the ribbons before letting you go ahead. 

“It was great,” Kika replies and takes off her long jacket before dropping onto one of the dark couches. She crosses her legs. "But I think our girl here had the most fun," she grins, raising her eyebrows. You give her a dirty look. 

Lando turns to you with raised eyebrows. ”Did you two fuck?”

“That's exactly what I asked!” Kika laughs and claps her hands joyfully. 

You feel the heat rising to your face, and it's not because you're still wearing your coat. Tensioned, you take it off and lay it over the back of the couch. “We didn't,” you answer curtly and roll your eyes. 

Kika and Lando exchange a meaningful look that you try to ignore. 

“Where are the boys, anyway?“ the Brit finally asks, rubbing his hands together as if he can't wait to see his friends again. 

“They dropped us off one street over so they could find a parking lot and so we wouldn't all be seen together,” Kika replies, reaching for the drinks menu on the small table in front of her. She begins to flip through it. 

“Very good.” Lando turns to you. "Today, only guests are invited who I and Martin know personally and trust so much that no one has to worry about any photos getting out," he smiles, putting his arm around your shoulders. 

You look up at him. ”Really?”

He nods. “So you don't need to worry. And neither does Charles.” He gently pulls you close before letting you go again. “So, girls. What can I get you to drink? Wine, cocktails, shots?”

“I'd like a strawberry margarita,” Kika replies, leaning back on the couch. 

“A piña colada, please.”

“All right. I'll be right back.“ Without turning back to you, he leaves and heads towards the bar, where he is immediately greeted and hugged by a few people, while you first make yourselves comfortable in your seating area. 

“Do you know this Martin guy?” you ask the Portuguese woman, who looks over at the crowd. 

She nods briefly. “Martin is really nice. And he's a good DJ,” she replies, and you notice how her gaze sticks to the female DJ. “He just doesn't look as good as she does.”

You can't suppress a grin. ”He doesn't have to look good as a DJ, does he? He just has to be good at what he does.”

“That's right,” Kika agrees with you before turning to face you. She points with her thumb over her shoulder and towards the DJ booth. ”But she's definitely hotter.”

Before you can say anything, Lando returns with a tray and sets it down in front of you. Your two cocktails and more glasses are on it, but there are also small shot glasses filled with red liquid. He hands you your drinks. 

“There we are,” Pierre greets all of you and briefly embraces Lando. Charles is standing behind him and smiles at you. 

“I'm glad you all made it,” the Brit smiles, giving the Monegasque a quick hug before everyone sits down. 

Charles takes a seat next to you, so close that he can press his leg against yours. “Hi,” he smiles gently. “Everything okay?” You return his smile and nod before taking a sip of your cocktail. His gaze flickers briefly from your eyes to your lips, which wrap around the straw. “Piña Colada?”

“Mh-hmm.” You hold the straw out to him and watch as he takes a sip. "Do you like it?”

“I do,’ he admits. ”But somehow I prefer the Nightmare Colada.”

Warmth rises to your cheeks at his words and the thought of the night when you got drunk on his boat. How you poured out your hearts. 

“To a great evening,” Lando raises his voice and hands everyone a shot glass. Carefully, each of you takes one, careful not to spill any of the red liquid. ”Cheers!”

The drinks that make their way to your table over the next two hours taste so fantastically good that Kika and you doubt that there is much alcohol in them. The cocktails taste fantastic and the music puts everyone in a good mood, so you leave your table and hit the dance floor. 

Your group dances to the beat that the DJ is playing like tipsy teenagers. Kika and you hold hands and dance together, causing the boys' eyes to almost pop out of their heads. The Portuguese woman presses her front against yours, her hands on your hips while yours are on her shoulders. And when she leans forward with pouting lips, you can't help but press a friendly kiss on her lips. You hear someone whistle – it's definitely Pierre – and when you both pull away from each other, you have to laugh. 

Kika puts her arm around your shoulders and the other around Charles. “I can't believe I kissed this beauty here before you did, Leclerc,” she grins. 

Charles looks at you with rosy cheeks, but his words are directed at Kika. “Is she a good kisser?”

“The best kisser I ever had,” the brunette replies with a grin before letting go of you and throwing her arms around her boyfriend. 

Charles and you look at each other uncertainly. 

Well, why haven't you kissed each other yet?

The thought is haunting your mind, but you can't answer the question. 

Doesn't Charles want to kiss you? You've definitely done things that are definitely not PG-rated. You can almost feel his spent between your thighs and his lips on your neck, the tip of his cock nudging against your clit and – 

Why haven't you kissed each other?

The Monegasque seems to notice your thoughts, but before he can say anything, Kika grabs your hand and pulls you towards the bar. You lean against the counter and wait for one of the bartenders to notice you when your friend takes your hand. 

“Is everything okay?” She asks, raising her eyebrows in concern. 

“Why do you ask?” you reply with a counter question. 

When a bartender reaches you, Kika orders your drinks. "I didn't want it to be weird between you and Charles. I'm sorry.”

You smile weakly at her and give her a quick hug. ’It's all right. We won't let this ruin our evening, okay?”

“You know you can always talk to me, right?” She asks, tilting her head. ‘You can call me day or night and I'll come to you. I promise.”

Your smile grows wider. "I'm already aware of that.”

“And I really love you, you know that?“ She puts her hands on your upper arms and hugs you tightly. Apparently, Kika gets emotional when she's drunk. 

“I love you too,” you return her embrace, and when the bartender puts your drinks in front of you, you both toast. 

“To the coolest girls, aka us,” she grins. As you both take a sip, someone taps her on the shoulder. Your best friend turns around and apparently she knows the young woman standing behind her, because she pulls her into a fleeting embrace before introducing you. ”Querida, this is Elena. She is also a model.”

In front of you stands a breathtaking beauty. With her brown hair, dark eyes and dark complexion, she looks as if she has just flown in from vacation. She is wearing a black and white dress that highlights her figure and accentuates exactly the right places to make her look flawless. 

You smile at her and introduce yourself as well. “Nice to meet you,” you say and extend your hand, but Elena kisses you on the left and then on the right cheek. 

“It's nice to meet you, too,” she replies with a smile before approaching you. ”Wait. Wipe below your eyebrows. You have some mascara on there.”

Without questioning her remark, you do as she says, and apparently it's good, because both women look at you with satisfaction afterwards. “Thank you,” you say. “That's very nice.”

Elena waves it off. ‘Don't worry. I'd want someone to tell me that too." She leans against the bar. ”You already have your drinks, right? Should I order shots for us?” she asks, but before either of you can answer, she is already talking to the bartender, who quickly prepares a cocktail and sets down three shot glasses in front of her. "Here you go," she says, handing each of you one of the glasses. 

After you've clinked glasses and emptied the small glasses, Kika fishes her cell phone out of her purse. ”Should we take a picture? I'm already drunk, but I definitely want a few more, and I don't think they'll get any better as the evening goes on,” she giggles, tapping someone on the shoulder to take a photo of you. First one of Kika and you, and then one of the three of you. 

“What's your name on Instagram?” Elena asks you, also digging out her phone so you can type your username into the search bar. When your profile pops up, she immediately clicks the follow button. 

Your phone lights up and the notification pops up on the lock screen, and when you tap it, you confirm her request and follow her right back. 

Her profile has a very aesthetic and artistic touch. Every picture is exactly where it should be. The colors all match and at the top of her biography is actually her full name: Elena Montpellier – one million followers – model at Bijou Management agency. 

“I didn't know that Lando had invited you,” Kika says to Elena, who just shrugs. 

“I'm here with friends,“ she replies as the three of you return to your seating area. "A friend of mine knows Martin and asked me if I wanted to come. And as if I'd stay at home when Martin is playing here in the club.”

Confused, you look from one beauty to the other. "So who is this Martin?” you ask hesitantly, afraid that Elena will laugh at you. 

But she doesn't. Quite the opposite. She slides closer to you and tells you about Martin, who is apparently a world-famous DJ. On her cell phone, she shows you videos of his shows and the crowds in front of which he usually performs, but in none of the sequences can you see his face. But suddenly she puts her cell phone down and motions for you to look up. “Speak of the devil.”

Your men join you and, like you, they have someone new with them. The face looks incredibly familiar. He kisses each of the girls on the cheek before introducing himself to you. And then it clicks. 

“Oh my God,” you gasp before he can say a word. ‘You're Martin Garrix.”

“That's me,’ he replies, visibly confused, glancing briefly at Lando, who puts his arm around your shoulder – skilfully ignoring Charles' scowl. 

“My friend here hasn't been in this industry for very long,“ he explains, gently pulling you over to his side. "This is all still pretty new.”

Martin looks back at you from Lando. ’Then I'm glad you're here today,” he smiles. “How did you end up with these guys, if you don't mind me asking?”

You're about to open your mouth to answer him, but Charles is faster. “She's my best friend,” he replies, standing next to you, his arm around your waist. He glances at Lando, who quickly removes his arm from your shoulder and catches your uncertain glance. 

“Okay, cool,” Martin simply replies. ”I still have about half an hour before I have to go to the desk. So, what's going on in your lives?”

While everyone is chatting, you hold back and watch. Pierre and Lando are talking, while Charles, Elena and Martin have moved closer together and the latter is showing something on his cell phone to the other two. You lean back into the couch and sip on your cocktail, Kika leaning on you. 

“I'm sorry he introduced you as his best friend,” she says, only audible to you. 

When you shrug, her head wobbles. “It's okay. I've made my peace with it,” you reply with a half-truth. 

Of course, you would prefer to be more than just his best friend – after all, you share a bed and the images of his expression when he came and painted your thighs refuse to leave you – but if his friendship is all you get from him, then that's that. 

“Please take care of yourself.” Kika raises her head and looks at you anxiously. ”I don't want you to get hurt. You've already been through so much.”

You gently press a kiss on her forehead. “I appreciate your concern.” Your gaze flickers over to Charles, who is now talking only to Elena. He shows her something on his phone and they both have to laugh. The woman leans forward a little to get a better look at the screen, but holds her neckline of the dress so that you can't see inside. 

Charles eyes move from his screen to you, without looking at Elena once. 

You smile at him, but before he can return it, the woman next to him says something and his attention is back to her, as if you weren't there. Maybe he just wants to be polite, after all, Pascale has taught him well and Charles is not one who just -

“Hi,” someone interrupts your train of thought and when you look up, Martin is standing in front of you. "I'm going to the DJ booth now and I thought you might like to join me," he suggests. ”As a kind of welcome and an apology for being so strange just now.”

You raise your eyebrows in wonder. “Actually, I should be the one to apologize. I'm not quite into the ‘famous people know other famous people’ thing yet. I'm sorry.”

Martin waves it off. “Don't worry. It takes some getting used to. But maybe it will help if you support me at the DJ booth.” He holds out his hand. 

“I've never done this before. So I can't guarantee anything,” you smile, which makes him laugh. 

“I'll show you everything. And if necessary, you can just stand next to me and look beautiful, but that shouldn't be a problem.“ 

“All right.” Without hesitation, you put your hand in his and he helps you to your feet. You take a quick glance at Kika, who grins at you and pushes the rest of your cocktail into your free hand, wishing you lots of fun. 

Your eyes flicker over to Charles, whose eyes are already glued to you. He doesn't seem to notice Elena at all, she talks and talks and apparently shows him something without realizing that his attention is not on her right now. He looks from your face to your hand, which is still holding Martin's, so that he can guide you through the crowd in a moment. 

It doesn't feel right to hold another man's hand, even if it's just for a moment. It should be Charles' hand holding yours. Charles' fingers entwined with yours. But Charles is sitting there with Elena, knee to knee. 

“Are you okay?” Martin asks, looking from you to Charles, who can't take his eyes off the two of you. 

You swallow and smile at him. “I'm fine.”

“Are you sure?” the DJ asks implausibly. “Charles looks at me as if he wants to kill me. You're just friends, aren't you?”

With your eyes fixed on Charles, you answer him. "Best friends," you correct him with the words of the Monegasque, before turning to Martin. ”Shall we?”

"With pleasure.”

As the two of you leave the seating area and you don't turn around to catch the eye of your best friend, Charles clenches his jaw. 

He already knows the feeling that is welling up inside of him, but last time it was Lando who triggered it and he had to work on himself not to see the Brit as competition. Which is complete nonsense, because Charles knows that Lando would never come between the two of you, not after he called the Monegasque and put him in his place while he was in Italy. 

And Charles knows that he has nothing to worry about. He is the man you go home with later. He is the man you share your bed with at night. He is the man who will later push up your dress and is allowed to touch you where you need him most. 

He knows all of this. And yet there is nothing he can do about it, except feel increasingly jealous with every step you take away from him.

[astrow1zar6]

Astro Observations~ 40

Scorpio moons take really long to talk about themselves and their past. Especially when getting to know someone they are romantically interested in (I notice this more with the men) it’ll be years until you really start to know them. This is why many can view them as toxic.. but once you wait out their little game they are loyal to you for life.

Taurus moons would rather pretend they are happy and content than ask for help. This is why they are viewed as emotional stable (but really they’re just repressing a lot:( it’s okay to be not okay♥️)

Aries Venus people get turned on from arguing (especially if paired with a Scorpio Mars)

Fire mercuries were yelled at a lot for talking too loud

Moon in Leo’s and be SO toxic when insecure. Cockiness to the extreme.

Every Leo sun I meet I see attract so many people to them. They really are such magnetic people their energy gives people life (like the sun). As dramatic as they are their confidence is so refreshing & admiring to be around. Their confidence gives others confidence as well.

Virgo suns Leo Venus women smell soooo good usually. Every time I walked someone to smelled like heaven they had this combo.

Aquarius sun tend to mold into their environment. Their personality can become easily influenced by those around them. This is why it’s important for them to surround themselves around positive influences. (Their friend group can usually change them for the better or worse)

Mars in Aquarius folks love things that are out of the ordinary whether it be clothes, sex, people, friends ect. Anything that confuses them or shocks them they usually become obsessed with.

Uranus in the 3rd house sounds like such a smart placement! I never met one person with this placement so I’m so interested on what these people think. (If you have this placement talk about it in the comments 🤗)

Mercury retrograde people are FUNNY omg. For a placement that has a hard time communicating they are absolutely hilarious. They say the most original jokes, shit that makes you think “how do you even come up with that🤣” they are able to see things people normally overlook which makes them so witty.

All Scorpio placements have such piercing dark eyes (sun, moon, rising esp). Even if you have light colored eyes they still appear dark in a way idk how to explain it.

Scorpio risings love people who can hold eye contact. It’s like their secret way of communicating. Insecure types however I see completely avoid it.. but most I notice really dig it. (Especially when it’s their crush 😏..)

Leo risings can exaggerate things about themselves to impress others. They are very dazzling and engaging but you can sense a fakeness in how they present themselves at times. (You guys don’t have to be something you’re not to impress others you guys are so cool regardless 🫶🏽) I’ve seen a lot of people with this placement be actually really awkward and nerdy but most cover it up with a glamorous mask.

Water mercuries can sense when people have bad intentions. They are usually the first ones to see when someone is fake while others might miss it. (Can catch a bad vibe from someone everyone likes then later find out they were horrible people all along).

Moon in Aries women are so HOT. The men are hot as well but very immature and annoying most of the time.

Aqua moons I feel like are the most unconventional and eccentric of all the Aquarius placements. They on a different wavelength then us all.

Gemini Risings in school were usually getting trouble for talking too much or disrupting the class lol.

Sorry I took to long to post I’ve been violently sick all week ♥️🫶🏽

[myth1cs]

That one back Tattoo (Son Chaeyoung x M!Reader)

I swear I'm working on that F!Reader fic. This is smut ... Sorry? (Should I still bother apologizing or...) Word Count: 2,088

Sitting at the bar with my girlfriend Dahyun was something that always made me happy.

"Y/N you're so silly sometimes!"

Dahyun was drunk enough to the point that anything was funny to her. I should have cut her off sooner but seeing her like this was just so cute. "Come on Dahyun lets go home."

"I don't want to go yet Y/N-yah! Can I get another shot?" I giggled at her question. "Come on Dahyun I think you've had a bit too much to drink." I had to pick up Dahyun and carry her back to our apartment. She showed little protest by lightly hitting me on my chest.

"I don't want to leave yet Y/N!"

Having to put up with a drunk Dahyun's protest was something I got used to after a few nights out. Luckily her sleepiness eventually got the best of her and she was sleeping in my arms.

Arriving back at the hotel I went in the elevator to get to our apartment on the third floor. But before the door closed another woman entered the elevator with us.

She was a rather short woman. Her clothes didn't leave much to the imagination. She was showing a lot of ski-

"Are you going to press the button or should I?"

I was quickly pulled out of my thoughts. Must've been staring for too long. "O-oh r-right you can press it first." She nodded at me and clicked on the button for the third floor. "What a coincidence we're on the same floor."

"Really? Well what are the chances of that? You know some people don't think things happen by "coincidence" do you?"

A rather odd question to ask but I guess I'll entertain her thought process. "Well I think some things are meant to happen but I don't think that everything that happens in our life is set by the universe or whatever."

"By the way who's that girl you're carrying."

"She's my girlfriend."

She hummed at my response and the elevator door opened. "Well if you'd like to discuss further you can come to my room at 308."

"Room 308? That's right next to my room 307!" Seriously? What are the chances my and this girl I just met are neighbors?

"Well who knows maybe it's a sign from the universe. By the way I never got your name."

"It's Y/N, and yours?"

"You can call me Chaeyoung. Anyways you better get going carrying your girlfriend must be tiring."

Once she said that she left for her room and I went into my apartment. When I got in I placed Dahyun on the couch and covered her up with a blanket.

I wasn't able to get Chaeyoung out of my mind. She was so attractive her tattoos, small figure, and those lips of hers were such a turn on. No wait what am I thinking?! Dahyun is my girlfriend I shouldn't be thinking of other women like this.

Feeling my cock get hard I went to the bathroom in order to relieve myself. Pulling down my pants and grabbing a hold of my cock I started to work on relieving myself. "Ugh ~ ah ~ Chaeyoung you're such a damn bad influence. You're making me have thoughts of cheating on my girlfriend because of you!"

Eventually I was able to cum and quickly started to work on cleaning up the mess I had just made.

-

I've been avoiding Chaeyoung for the past few days. Seeing her makes me think of inappropriate thoughts. I can't help but think how warm her pussy must feel. I bet she could suck my dick so well. Agh! Damn it why am I thinking of it again.

I suddenly bumped into someone.

"Shit sorry my bad I wasn't watching where I was going."

"Y/N is that you?"

Looking at the person I bumped into I realized it was Chaeyoung. Shit

"Oh sorry Chaeyoung I have to go-"

Suddenly she grabbed my arm and turned me around so I was facing her. My face was getting warmer and I can only hope she didn't notice.

"Hold on Y/N what's the rush? And why have you been ignoring me for the past few days?"

"Chaeyoung it's complicated."

"Want to talk about it?"

I shouldn't do it. Everything points to me not agreeing with her. I have a loving girlfriend already. No I can't say yes I can't!

But before I could even answer Chaeyoung started to drag me along with her. I wasn't able to get any words out so I just went along with her for the time.

Eventually we arrived at the front of her apartment. She grabbed her keys and unlocked the door. Her room was mostly similar to the one me and Dahyun had except her room was a bit more bare than ours.

She dragged me to her couch and sat me down. Chaeyoung sat next to me and crossed her arms.

"Y/N I don't understand why you've been ignoring me. If you didn't like our first interaction and didn't want to talk to me that's one thing but I feel as if you're purposely going out of your way to ignore me!"

I looked at Chaeyoung in the eyes. Should I tell her? No that's stupid and would be pretty awkward. What would I even say "Yeah the reason I've been ignoring you is because I just get thoughts of cheating on my girlfriend with you."

"I just thought you were a little weird. I didn't want to associate myself with you." A bit rude but I needed Chaeyoung to also get away from me. If she also starts to distance herself from me it would make my life way easier.

"That's a bit rude Y/N. But thank you for telling me even if it does hurt my feelings."

"Yeah, sorry Chaeyoung."

I got up to leave her apartment as silence fell between us. But before I could go she suddenly spoke up.

"Wait before you leave do you at least want to have lunch with me?"

I guess I owe her one. I mean I did say something quite rude to her just now I could at least make up for it by staying over for lunch.

"Sure"

Chaeyoung nodded and got up to go to the kitchen. I couldn't help but stare at her butt as she walked there.

"Do you have any preferences or allergies you want me to be aware of Y/N?"

"No, anything's fine."

She started to cook up something. I sat in silence as I watched her cook. While Chaeyoung was cooking she bent over making her shirt slide up.

I saw her exposed back which had a tattoo. Something about it was interesting to me.

"Why did you get that back tattoo Chaeyoung?"

"Found it interesting. Why, you want to get a closer look Y/N?" She gave me a certain look. If I didn't know any better I would say she's trying to tease me.

My face started to warm up. "Uhm ... kinda."

Chaeyoung started to walk up to me. Her hips swayed in a rhythm that kept me hooked.

She sat down on the couch with her back facing me. She took off her shirt exposing her bra. "Go on Y/N inspect the tattoo to your hearts content."

I felt my whole body get warm.

I put my finger on her back tattoo,I traced the outline. It was quite an interesting design. "What's it called?"

"The birth of evil. You know Y/N I have more tattoos but I'd have to strip for you to see them."

"Well what's stopping you?" I asked more as a joke.

"Absolutely nothing." Chaeyoung turned around facing me before she started stripping off her remaining pieces of clothing. Her body was more attractive than I originally thought. I couldn't focus on her tattoos and was only able to focus on her body.

"Y/N my tattoos aren't on my chest."

"I - uhm - agh." I tried coming up with an excuse but I wasn't able to think of one. My cock was starting to get hard and I tried to quickly hide it before Chaeyoung noticed.

Suddenly she put her hands over mine. "Mmm Y/N I heard you moaning my name the night we met. I'm telling you our meeting was fate."

Chaeyoung grabbed my hand covering my extremely hard cock and removed ir. She let out a coo "It's so big. I wonder how it'll look when it's free."

I started to panic as she started to pull my pants down. I shouldn't even be here when I have Dahyun. But a part of me wants this moment to never end.

My cock sprung out of its constraints and Chaeyoung licked her lips. "My my Y/N a bit eager to cheat on your girlfriend aren't you?" I wasn't able to form words because I knew she was right. I really wanted her.

"Go ahead and kiss me you little play boy."

I latched my lips onto Chaeyoung's perfect lips. They were so soft and perfect for me. Chaeyoung took my shirt off and moved her hands to my chest and pinched my nipples.

"Ouch Chaeng that hurt." I muffled into her lips. Though she didn't listen and only pinched harder.

She started to rub her hands all over my body. "Ah! Ah! Your hands are so perfect!"

I took my lips off of hers and started to move them down to her small breasts. They were a little bit bigger than Dahyun's but not by much. I put my tongue on her nipple and swirled it around and used my other hand to squeeze her other tit.

Chaeyoung moved her hands down to my cock and swirled her thumb on the tip. Some cum started to leak out and it helped her pick up the pace.

"Oh Chaeng your so damn good at this."

"Am I better than your girlfriend?"

Me and Dahyun have never had sex before and I didn't want to admit that I was still a virgin to her.

"Uhm - you're getting there."

Chaeyoung smiled at me "Judging by your long pause I'm guessing you're a virgin. Don't worry I'll be gentle."

She pushed me onto my back and put her mouth around my cock. "Mhm it tastes good. Virgins cocks always taste the best." I felt myself losing control over her words. She was slowly swirling her tongue on my tip and sucked really gently.

I used my hands to push her head down and Chaeyoung took my full length. "Yes just like that Chaeyoung." My cock hit the back of her throat and her muscles tightened around it.

Her saliva coated my whole cock. I started to push her head up and down on my cock roughly. Tears fell down Chaeyoung's eyes as she face fucked me.

Pulling her off my cock she started gasping for air. "Chaeyoung I want to feel your tight pussy on my cock."

"Y/N ... you're so horney! Is your girlfriend that pathetic?"

"Dahyun has never wanted to have sex with me."

"Poor baby Y/N. You deserve to release all of your cum." Chaeyoung got up and aligned her pussy to my cock. She lowered herself engulfing it all in her small tight pussy.

"You're so damn tight Chaeyoung!"

"Now Y/N let me show you what your girlfriend has been depriving you of." Chaeyoung started moving up and down. Her fluids were now all over my cock. I reached for her small and soft butt and started to give them a light squeeze.

Chaeyoung yelped at my sudden movement but went along with it. I started to squeeze harder leaving red marks on her butt. "I'm going to cum inside of you!"

"Yes Y/N fill me up with your thick semen!"

I spanked her ass hard and unloaded a long thick stream of cum inside of her. Chaeyoung's eyes started rolling back. "It's so warm Y/N!"

After 10 seconds the stream stopped and Chaeyoung collapsed on the couch. "Y/N do you believe me now? Our meeting was fate."

"I believe you Chaeng. But we have to keep this under wraps I don't want Dahyun to find out about us."

"Fine by me Y/N my lips are sealed. Just make sure to come visit me every now and then."

I collapsed on her and hugged her naked body and we both fell asleep.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I don't know if people prefer 1st or 3rd person writing so I'll just alternate between the both of them.

Anyways enjoy Chaeyoung, I'm facing delays so I don't think I'll have something up anytime soon but I'll try to finish the Thanksgiving smut on time.

[archangeldyke-all]

hii bestie i loveee ur writing <33 the arcane finale is literally driving me insane holy shit and i just keep thinking about how all the old bitches on the council are probably bigoted assholes to our beloved sevika at first (hopefully) and was wondering if you’d consider writing the reader comforting her after these council meetings or letting her take out any stress on the reader from these meetings heheh okie bye thanks hope you’re doing amazingly <3

GOD. i've been thinking about it more lately (the euphoria of her making it through the series alive is wearing off too) and i just. really need to hug her. because YES she lived and YES zaun is getting a voice and YES she is the best person for the job, but... she lost EVERYTHING. and now she's gonna have to be treated like shit forever for her city. and of course she's gonna stick it out because that's who she is and she'll do anything for zaun but FUCK. i need to hug her so bad. okay lets write lol.

men and minors dni

it's been a hard year.

you and sevika got your worlds rocked when isha and jinx stumbled in your lives, and then you got your hearts broken when they stumbled back out.

there wasn't even a moment to catch your breath before you had to start rebuilding efforts and negotiations with piltover.

and then sevika was appointed to represent the free nation of zaun in piltover's council as the sister cities figure out how to rebuild and get the undercity on it's feet as it gains independence.

and, in a way, it's everything sevika's ever wanted. she's there to assure that the topsiders treat her city right, she's there to demand everything zaun deserves. she gets to oversee development in the undercity, she gets to open schools and parks and libraries.

but in another way, she's never been so miserable in her life.

the councilor's are all members of the wealthiest families in piltover-- and they do not take kindly to sevika's sudden addition to the council.

shoola's been sevika's one true ally, her biggest advocate and defender in the council room. they're friends, in that the same tentative way sevika was friends with silco, but... maybe a little kinder. a little more lighthearted.

shoola's become a close friend of yours, too. she learned quickly that sevika keeps her cards close to her chest, and she often comes to you for an insight into what your wife is thinking. it's fun to have someone to laugh with over sevika's quirks, and you're endlessly appreciative of the woman's fierce protection of your wife in the council, when you can't be there to defend her.

still, though. shoola isn't always there, and she can't control the whispers sevika overhears.

and it's not like your wife is new to being insulted. but it's one thing to be cursed out by a man you're fighting in the street, and a different thing entirely to overhear posh accents whispering about 'sump rats' and 'undercity trash.'

especially when those same posh accents are the people demanding tax cuts for the wealthy, and budget cuts for the undercity.

so, you've been anticipating this.

this being your wife breaking down in silent sobs, crying so hard she can't make any noise, kneeling before you the moment you gets home to bury her face in your stomach.

but just because this has been a long time coming, doesn't mean it breaks your heart any less.

"oh, sevika." you whisper shakily, kicking your boots off before kneeling down and wrapping your arms around her. she buries her face in your shoulder, her arms circling your waist with desperation. "fuck, baby. i'm right here. let it out." you say.

sevika shakes against you, taking desperate gasps for air between her sobs. "i'm so tired." she stutters out. you start crying at her words, settling down onto your ass to pull her into your lap.

"i know, baby. you've been working your whole fuckin' life." you say, scratching her scalp and rubbing her back as she curls up on top of you.

"and i fucking miss them." she cries.

you let out a choked cry and nod, kissing her forehead as tears stream down your cheeks. "yeah." you choke out. "me too."

there's nothing else to say. everything else sevika already knows. you love her. you've got her. jinx and isha are together now, and zaun is free. none of it makes it any better, though.

so you just hold her.

in a while, you'll both run out of tears and get sore from your spots on the floor. you'll dry both of your tears, kiss sevika soundly, and comb her hair from her face as you whisper her praises. you'll call for food to be delivered, draw a nice bath, and you'll make sevika eat and soak until her eyes droop. and then, you'll take her to bed. in the morning, sevika will go back to the council, despite the fact that everyone in that building looks down on her, because sevika is nothing if not loyal to zaun. and tomorrow evening, you'll be waiting here at home to build back up all her confidence that those rich assholes managed to tear down throughout the day.

but, for now, sevika's still crying.

so, for now, you just hold her.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@lavandasz @strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed

[lovedrruunk]

'A Fresh Start 𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐[part ii]

When the mysterious new girl in town makes a lasting first impression, you make it your goal to befriend and welcome her to the town. [Part i] playlist!!!

self deprecating stalker jinx ill luv u 4eva & eva & eva...

"Hey."

"Hi!"

“. . .”

“. . . ?”

“. . .”

“. . . ???”

You blinked, waiting for her to say literally anything else, but nope. Just “hey.” and now she was standing there, looking like she was on the verge of shitting her pants while you wondered if this was how all her conversations went.

Surprisingly you didn’t feel awkward or uncomfortable, more so confused. Looking around, your eyes landed on your old neighbor who’s own eyes were on the girl in front of you. He was giving her this look of judgment. It wasn’t obvious or harsh but it was still there. And then it clicked.

This was her.

The newcomer who moved into that old cottage on the outskirts of town. The one Mrs. Van Dee Kamp couldn’t stop speculating about, the one Mr. Gallagher said “looked like trouble”, and the same one you were so curious about. 

It wasn’t long before your group started to shuffle awkwardly, clearly ready to move on. They glanced at her, the kind of quick, hesitant looks people gave when they didn’t want to seem rude but also didn’t want to linger. One by one, they made their excuses, mumbling something about needing to get back to their stalls. They took a couple of steps away, looking back once they realized you weren’t following.

“I’ll catch up with you guys later!” you called, waving them off.

Turning back, you realized she was already staring at you, her wide pink eyes locked onto yours like you’d just caught her doing something she wasn’t supposed to.

“Hi!” you started... for the second time now.

“Uh… yeah.” she said, her voice flat as if responding to a completely different conversation.

Not exactly the warmest start, but you continued. “You’re new in town right? People have been talking, but you know, nothing bad! They’re just curious.”

Her eyes glanced left then right as you were talking, like she was scanning for an exit. “Yeah. New.”

You tilted your head. “Well, welcome. I’m–”

“Okay.” she cut you off, her tone abrupt.

“...Okay?” you repeated, blinking.

“Yeah. Thanks. Bye.”

Before you could say another word, she spun on her heel and started walking… no, speed-walking, towards the dirt path that lead into the forest.

You stood there, frozen, your brain scrambling to process what had just happened. Did she seriously just… run away? Mid-conversation?

It took you a solid few seconds to realize your jaw was hanging open. Shutting it quickly, you looked around, half expecting someone to jump out with a camera and tell you that you that it was a prank.

But no. The mysterious girl who had everyone talking had just bolted, leaving you standing there like an idiot.

And for some reason, instead of being offended, you couldn’t help but laugh.

Who was she? And what kind of person walked away from a perfectly normal greeting? Mind you, a greeting she had started. You didn’t know why, but suddenly, you were dying to find out.

. . .

This feeling wasn’t technically new.

For weeks, you’d felt it, that weird sensation on the back of your neck, like someone was watching you. At first, it had been easy to ignore. You told yourself it was just your brain playing tricks. It was harmless. Whatever.

But now? Not so much.

The feeling wasn’t just there when you stood still like it was before, it followed you now. Around the market, down quiet streets, even when you stopped to chat with neighbors. You’d catch glimpses, a blur of blue hair disappearing behind a corner, the faintest sound of boots on the gravel.

More than once, you were so sure you’d catch them. You’d spin around at the sound of a shuffle or a shadow that felt too close. But by the time you looked? Nothing. Just an empty alley or a completely innocent looking street lamp.

It was driving you nuts.

You didn’t have to guess who it was either. You knew it was her. The girl from the square, Powder, or whatever her name really was. The way she’d bolted last time you tried to talk to her? That had to mean something.

Now it wasn’t just about being watched. It was about her. What was her deal? Why was she sneaking around? Why couldn’t she just talk to you?

You're own feelings about the situation were confusing you. You didn't necessarily... mind it. Unlike the other townsfolk, you didn't see her as a threat. She didn't seem like the type who would go out of her way to harm you. So 'why' was the question, and you were determined to figure it out.

Every time you caught a glimpse of her, something tugged at you. It wasn’t just the mystery of it all, though that was definitely part of it. There was something about her, it's like she didn't want to be seen yet wanted all of your attention.

And you wanted to know why. Why so secluded? Why so interested in your mundane countryside life?

It wasn’t like the townsfolk were any help either. They whispered about her, sure, 'the new girl with the blue hair and the weird vibes' but that’s all they did. Whispers. Speculation. None of them had actually tried to get to know her as far as you could tell.

Which left it to you.

The more you thought about it, the more determined you got. You didn’t want to believe she was some big, bad menace just because she didn’t fit into their little box of what people here were 'supposed' to be like. She was human, and just as deserving of a community as anyone else. So, yeah, you had questions.

And, apparently, she had no intention of giving you any answers.

It was almost funny how good she was at avoiding you. You’d be walking down the street, sure you'd spotted her near the bakery, and then poof. Gone. Like she had been a figment of your imagination. It was starting to feel like a game, except you knew something she didn't. How to cheat.

. . .

“Alright, I know you’re in there!” you yelled, leaning closer to the door as your fist continued to bang on the wood. “You can’t hide forever!”

Silence.

You squinted at the cottage, the place looked... interesting. It was still that run down creepy cottage you remembered always seeing whenever you passed by, but it was strangely... lively. Big scraps of metal and parts outside, colorful flowers (although wilted), and colorful graffiti that seemed to cover every side.

Snapping yourself out of your thoughts, you knocked again harder, this time raising your voice. “I’m not leaving until you open this door!”

Still nothing.

“Powder! Or... whatever your name is!” you shouted, hoping the use of her name might get a reaction.

From inside, you swore you heard a faint creak. A floorboard, maybe? It was hard to tell over the sound of your heart hammering in your ears. You leaned forward, pressing your ear to the door.

“I can hear you in there, you know.” you tried, softening your tone just a bit, stepping back from the door. “I’m not mad or anything. I just want to talk! That’s all.”

The silence that followed felt even more deafening than before. For a second, you wondered if you’d imagined the sound altogether.

And then, just as you were about to knock again, the door creaked open.

Barely.

A narrow space, enough for one pink eye to peek through.

“What do you want?” came a voice.

It wasn’t hostile exactly, but it wasn’t friendly either. Cautious. Suspicious.

You blinked, caught off guard by just how intense her gaze was up close.

“Uh, hi?” you started, scrambling for words that didn’t sound totally ridiculous. “We’ve been running into each other a lot lately- well, okay, more like you’ve been running away- but I just wanted to…” You trailed off, realizing you hadn’t actually planned this far ahead.

Her eye narrowed slightly, not moving to open the door any wider.

“...check in?” you finally finished, wincing at your own words.

The door inched shut a little more.

“Wait, wait!” you said frantically as you held up your hands.

“I mean it! No tricks, no weird town gossip or whatever. I just… I think we got off on the wrong foot. Can we maybe start over? I'd love to be friends.”

Her eye flicked to your hands, then back to your face. For a moment, you thought she was actually gonna let you in.

Instead, she sighed. “You shouldn’t have come here.”

Her voice was quieter now, laced with something you couldn’t quite place. Regret? Fear?

“Why not?” you asked gently, lowering your hands.

But she didn’t answer, instead she gave you this long silent look. And just as you were about to speak up again, the door shut and the bolt slid into place.

“Well, okay then.”

. . .

when i talk abt the town pls imagine a Minecraft village or something of the sort ...

this chapter was SOOOO SELF DIVULGENT btw lololol was totally laughing my ass off writing it. I hope the difference in the way i write their povs is noticeable!!! also its 2am rn ill make sure to proof read in the morning... maybe...

part 3 sometime this week probs! it'll go back to being in pows pov ≽^•⩊•^≼˚

notes r appreciated & thx 4 reading as aaalways XOXOXOXO

[Teensy taglist (ˊᗜˋ)]

@cattjull @kenqki @powderbomb-jinxed

[tweedlydumbtweedlydoo]

a Second Chance | Rafe Cameron x Maybank!reader

Summary: After being in a secret relationship with Rafe and becoming pregnant, he denied the entire relationship, making it known your son wasn’t his. However, he can’t deny it for much longer - your son is the spitting image of Rafe. 

Part 1 

A/N: This is a continuation of the fic above. This can be read as stand alone or you can read the other first for a bit of background on how things played out and telling Rafe you were expecting. 

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

Go follow my fic rec blog! ---> @imaginationgonewild0912

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: {OPEN} CLOSED

** Rules for Requesting **

** Who I Write For **

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

Your son's giggles were music to your ears. You smiled in adoration at his uncle JJ chasing him through the yard, his little toddler legs moving as fast as they could. He loved his uncle JJ. And his other aunts and uncles too. After all the drama with Rafe, he and the other Pogues stepped in, becoming your village and boy are you glad you had them. You wouldn’t have been able to do it without them. 

Rafe continued the story, the baby wasn’t his and you were never in a relationship. However, as time has passed, people are starting to get suspicious, especially as your son grows because he’s the spitting image of Rafe. It is getting to the point, Rafe truly can’t deny him. 

“Come on boys, let's get to the beach before it gets crowded,” You call out to JJ and Jackson; the other Pogues loading up in the Twinkie. You and JJ worked hard, going in half on a car that JJ rebuilt to make it drivable. JJ knew the Twinkie wouldn’t be a safe vehicle to transport his tiny nephew and made it his mission to find you something sustainable and reliable. 

“Mama!” Jackson squeals as he nears, jumping into your arms. 

You laugh and kiss his head before placing him in his carseat and securing him. “Ready to go to the beach?” 

He nods with a big grin; Rafe’s smile. The smile you’d fell in love with. You can’t deny it doesn’t hurt a little when you look at your son, because staring back is Rafe and all the hurt that came with him. But you wouldn’t trade Jackson for anything in the world. He’d brought light into your life and filled your broken heart. Jackson is so smart and intelligent, even at only 3 years old. He’s got a sweet and loving personality and he loves when he can make you laugh. And Rafe is missing it all, time he will never get back.

~

After settling at a spot on the beach, you all unpacked, setting the chairs and umbrella up. Pope dropping the cooler under the umbrella with a grunt, “jeez what the hell did you guys pack in that thing.” 

Jackson started tugging you toward the water, “come mama!” 

“No baby hold on, let's put sunscreen on first. Then you can get in the water.” 

He pouts but stops tugging, letting you lather him in the sunscreen. 

“Once mama is finished me and you can go check out those waves!”  JJ holds his fist to Jackson, who returns with a fist bump. 

“Alright you’re finished!” You kiss him on the head and he takes off toward the water with JJ. JJ picks him up and wades into the water with him. Jackson laughing hysterically as the waves crash against them. 

“beer?” Kie asks, as you take a seat in the beach chair next to her. 

"Yes thank you,” you sigh, taking a sip, “I love that the beach is nearly empty-” 

Loud music catches you and the other Pogues attention, watching as a couple trucks and a jeep drive thru the sand behind you. You recognized Topper’s jeep and groaned. 

“Please keep driving..” Sarah pleads. 

“Anywhere but here.” Kie adds. 

“Of course.” John B says as they stop a little ways down the beach, “This entire beach and they pick that spot?” 

You take a sip of your beer, nearly choking on it as you see someone hop out of the dark blue truck. Rafe. 

“Shit.” Kie mumbles. 

He rounds the truck and opens the passenger side, another person gets out of the truck and it’s Sofia. 

Sarah places a gentle hand on your arm, “you gonna be ok?” 

You give her a reassuring smile and nod, “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be fine.” You gaze out at the ocean, JJ has noticed the kooks and he looks over at you, a look of concern on his face. You nod at him, letting him know you’re okay. He continues to play with Jackson, holding his hand as he stands with his toes in the sand, jumping over the waves as they break against the beach. 

“We’re both adults here. Maybe me more than him but it’s ok.” You glance between Sarah and Kie, “He’s living his best life - while I raise our son that he denies is his.” 

John B squeezes your shoulders, “And you’re doing a damn good job at it too.” 

The rest of the Pogues pipe in, “Hell ya you are,” “You’re killing it.” 

“Thanks you guys,” Your eyes dance between the Pogues, “I couldn’t have done it without you guys,” Your eyes grow teary, “Ok okay stop you guys are gonna make me cry,” You shake your hands out, wiping your face, “enough sappy talk. Let’s enjoy our beach day!” 

~ 

Rafe watches you and the Pogues playing with Jackson by the water, taking a sip of his beer. 

Sofia comes up beside him, wrapping her arm around his waist, “Her son is cute,” She says with a smile, looking up at him. 

He hums in response, not pulling his eyes from you and Jackson. He knew now, there was no denying Jackson. He looked just like him. Topper flat out asked the other day if Jackson was his. 

“He looks just like you man.” 

Rafe shrugged, “I don’t see it. He’s not mine though. She was screwing everyone on the island. There’s no telling who the father is.” He tried to keep up with the lie, but Topper wasn’t stupid. Topper knew you weren’t sleeping around, you’d never been like that. But he let him continue the lie, dropping the topic completely. 

“I bet our kids will be cute.” 

Now that caught his attention. He snaps his head toward her, “What?” 

Sofia smiles, “When we have kids, I bet they will be cute.” She’s in dreamland, wondering what life with Rafe Cameron would be like. Getting married, having a big house on the island, having kids etc etc. Little did she know, Rafe wasn’t planning a future with her. 

He nod and takes another sip of his beer, deciding not to say anything. 

“Jackson wait-” 

Rafe turns in time to see a ball rolling his way and Jackson chasing it. You weren’t too far behind. 

Rafe bends down and picks up the ball, staying at Jackson’s level as he approaches. Jackson is hesitant to take it. 

“Jackson, you can’t just run off-” 

Rafe feels like he’s staring at a mirror. Topper’s right, he looks just like him. The little boys eyes are innocent and he’s overcome with a feeling he can’t describe. He feels protective of the small boy in front of him, like a father would. A surge of love flowing through him. How could anyone leave this boy without a dad? How could he have abandoned his son? Something changed the moment he looked into Jackson’s eyes.

“Here you go, buddy,” Rafe holds the ball out to him with a smile. 

Jackson hesitantly takes it, looking up at you, with a small pout on his lips, “Sorry mama, my ball.” 

Rafe slowly stands, the two of you coming face to face for the first time since you told him you were pregnant. 

“It’s ok baby, you just can’t run off like that.” You run your fingers through his hair. You will yourself to meet Rafe’s eyes, “Sorry about that, we’ll get out of your way.” 

“It’s ok.” Rafe can’t seem to tear his eyes away from you. Is it possible to be more beautiful? Motherhood treated you well and he’s overwhelmed with pride to know you did it all on your own because of his stupid decision. His stupid immature decision. 

Your eyes glance to Sofia, who steps up next to Rafe, pulling him from his trance, “your son.. he’s adorable.” 

You give her a small smile, “Thank you.” 

Rafe is mesmerized by you. He doesn’t know what’s over come him but the feelings that he buried deep inside have started bubbling to the surface. 

“Jackson, you know you’re not suppose to talk to strangers.” JJ takes a dig at Rafe as he approaches, scooping up Jackson in his arms. 

Rafe’s jaw clenches at JJ’s comment. Stranger. He’s no stranger. He’s his father- but he catches himself. JJ’s right. He truly is a stranger to him and he has no right to call himself his father. 

Jackson wraps his tiny arms around JJ’s neck, snuggling into his shoulder. That stirs some jealousy within Rafe. He should be the one hugging his son and playing ball with him on the beach. He should be the one there, the three of you as a family. 

“We better get back. Sorry for bothering you guys.” You apologized, following JJ back to the rest of the pogues. 

Rafe watches you walk away, his heart aching. He should have told you the truth. And he shouldn’t have lied all these years about Jackson. 

 ~ 

JJ holds Jackson with one arm and wraps his other around your shoulders, “you ok?” 

You nod, “I’m good. You shouldn’t have made the comment you did” 

JJ rolls his eyes, “it’s not like it wasn’t true. He’s a stranger.” 

You shrug, “I know but-“ 

“No buts. He’s a stranger to Jackson. Even if he shares DNA with him.” He snaps back. 

It was a touchy subject with JJ and you knew the conversation was over. JJ was protective over you and he held a huge grudge against Rafe for abandoning the two of you. Especially Jackson. He wanted Jackson to have a dad, something you and him didn’t have growing up. 

~ 

Rafe laid in bed that night with you and Jackson on his mind. He couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning the entire night. Sofia is sound asleep next to him. He squints, peering to check the time on the clock, 6:37 am. He sighs running a hand over his face before quietly getting out of bed and toward the shower. He wanted to see you again and talk. He needed to talk to you. 

“Rafe?” Sofia’s sleepy voice calls out to him, hands feeling his spot on the bed. 

Rafe comes to her side, showered and dressed, kisses her forehead. “Early meeting. Be back later.” 

She hums and turns back over, falling back asleep. 

~ 

He pulls up to the Maybank house a little while later. Glancing over in the passenger seat, coffee for you and him. He hopes you still liked your coffee with 2 creams and 2 sugars. He also picked up some muffins and donuts, unsure what Jackson would like. 

He was nervous, gripping the steering wheel. Maybe he shouldn’t do this. He can still turn around and go home. You don’t even know he’s here yet. 

He shakes his head, no there’s no talking him out of this. He needs to have this talk. He’s 2 years two late. Technically almost 3 years. 

Well shit there’s no turning around now cause here you come walking toward his truck. He takes a deep breath, now or never. 

He steps out of the truck, “morning.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” You ask tightening your robe around you, “it’s nearly 7:30 in the morning.” 

“Brought coffee and breakfast.” He says, reaching inside to grab the coffee and bag. “I was hoping we could talk?” 

“Now you want to talk? You’re a couple years too late Rafe.” You’re eyeing the coffee, yearning for your boost of caffeine. 

He sighs, “I know, I have no right to show up here unannounced either but, after seeing you guys yesterday I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He offers the coffee, “two cream and two sugar?” 

You nod, slowly reaching to take the coffee, “you still remember?” You ask, surprised. Even after all these years he remembered? You felt a soft tug on your heart. No y/n. You tell yourself, smooshing those feelings back down. It was not the time to go soft. 

He shrugs, also handing you the bag of muffins and donuts, “It’s not the hardest coffee order, but yes I still remember. There’s muffins and donuts in there, I wasn’t sure-” He scratches the back of his neck, growing uncomfortable, “I wasn’t sure what Jackson liked.” 

“He’s a fan of both. He pretty much will eat anything,” You turn and head for the porch, “Everyone is still asleep, let me put this inside and we can go to the dock.” 

Rafe nods and takes the time to check out what all you two have done with the place. It was different than when he was here last, new dock and boathouse, the landscaping had been cleaned up and the house actually looked livable. Jackson’s toys were strewed around the grass. 

“ready?” You ask, heading down toward the dock, Rafe following. You two take a seat on the bench at the end of the dock. 

“So, now that Jackson is older, people are starting to notice how much he looks just like you. You can’t keep up with whatever lie you’ve been spreading. Are you here to try and make me come up with an excuse for where his father is? So, you can go about your life?” You ask, bitterly. 

“No, that’s not why I’m here. I’m here to step up and apologize. And explain my immature behavior.” He stands back up, pacing the dock in front of you. His nerves are getting the best of him. He had this speech all planned out but sitting in front of you, he’s forgot what to say. “I wasn’t in the right head space. And I for sure wasn’t ready to be a father. You saw what I was like. I was drinking, partying. Hell, I was even doing coke at that point.” 

You sit quietly, sipping your coffee as you listen to him. It wasn’t anything you didn't know, to tell you the truth. You also were doing all those things at the time, minus the coke, but as soon as you found out you were pregnant, you’d stepped up and knew all of that had to come to an end. You were going to be a mother. 

“I was doing the same things, Rafe. I don’t see that being an excuse. I stepped up when I needed to because I had too. It was something you needed to do as well, but you weren’t ready to give up that life yet. You weren’t ready to give up your lifestyle to become a father.” 

“I know. and that’s the truth, I didn’t want to give up my partying lifestyle for a kid. I was also scared what people would think of me, getting a girl from the cut pregnant. No one even knew we were dating-” 

“So you were ashamed of me? You’re really not doing yourself any favors right now-” You scoffed, standing, “I get it, Rafe. It would have been the worst thing for a kook to get a pogue pregnant. People would have judged you and never looked at you the same-” You turn to head back toward the house. “I’m so tired of this kook vs pogue bullshit.” 

“Baby-” He gently grabs your arm to stop you, letting the pet name slip, “I mean y/n- That’s not what I was trying to say. Fuck, this is not how I wanted this to go. Please, I’m trying to apologize. I was an immature kid back then and I’m here now to apologize, make things right and take responsibility.” 

“Rafe,” you sigh, “we’re doing fine right now. Without having you in our lives. We’ve made it work. It’s been 3 years, just let it go. I’ll keep on with the lie, you can continue to live your life how you want. Get married, have other kids. Whatever you want to do.” 

“I don’t want to do that, y/n. That’s what I’m here for. I want to be apart of Jackson’s life. A part of your life.” His hand has slipped down from your arm to your hand, his thumb subconsciously caressing your skin. “Please give me another chance. I’ve changed. I promise I’m not the man I was before. My dad has made me a manager at his company. I have a steady job, a house of my own. I’m not the immature teenager I was before.” His eyes are pleading for another chance to do the right thing.

You don’t know how to describe it as you stare into Rafe’s eyes, that they look the same as they did when you fell in love with him, but have a different softness to them. He’s genuine. But you don’t know if you can trust him. He broke you and you weren’t ready to open those doors again. You weren’t ready to open yourself back to him. You had Jackson to think about now and had to take his feeling into account. Could you trust Rafe? 

“What about Sofia? What does she think of all this?” You remove your hand from his, crossing your arms over your chest. “She seems like a great girl.” 

“If I’m honest with you, I haven’t talked to her about it. Me and her aren’t serious.” 

“Maybe you should go home and talk things over with her. I can’t make a decision now. I need time to think it over.” 

His shoulders sag in defeat, but he ultimately nods, “Take all the time you need.. I’ll be here waiting.” 

~ 

Rafe left your house and immediately went to Tannyhill, hoping he could catch his dad before leaving for his meeting at 11. “Morning Rose,” He greets as he enters the kitchen, Rose is drinking coffee at the island, Wheezie next to her. He kisses Wheezie on the head, “Wheezie,” 

“Morning,” They say in unison. 

“Is Dad still here?” 

“In his office,” Rose nods, “He had a couple things to finish before the meeting.” 

“Thanks,” Rafe heads toward his office, knocking, “Dad?” 

“Come in,” Ward calls out, “Morning Rafe, you ready for the big meeting this morning?” 

“Ready. But I was hoping to talk to you about something.” He takes a seat across from Ward’s desk. Ward can tell there is something on his son’s mind and closes his laptop to give his full attention. 

“What’s going on?” 

Rafe takes a deep breath, clasping his hands together to stop them from shaking, “You know y/n Maybank?” 

“Yes-” Ward says, leaning forward a little, “What about her?” 

“Me and her dated a few years ago.”

“Mmhmm.” ward nods, “What about it?” 

Rafe takes another deep shaky breath. Ward begins to think about it, remembering she had a son. Who was about 3- 

“The boy- Jackson. He’s yours?” Ward asks in disbelief. 

Rafe gives a short nod, “I fucked up.” 

Ward slowly sits back in his chair, taking it all in. Old Ward would have blown up, told Rafe how stupid could he have been. “How long have you known?” He asks. 

“Since she told me she was pregnant.” He can’t help but get teary eyed, still on edge as he waits for his dad to blow up on him. “I told you I fucked up.” 

Ward mulls over this new and shocking information. “Why wouldn’t you say anything?” Ward asks. 

“I was terrified. Immature. I didn’t want to be a dad. I was partying all the time and wasn’t ready to give it up and be a dad.” He tells him honestly, “It was a shitty decision and I regret it.” 

“You should have took responsibility son.” He sighs, “But I know you weren’t in the right head space.” He stands and rounds his large desk, taking the seat next to his son, “Rehab changed you for the better.” 

Rafe nods, “I’m trying to fix things. I want to be in his life. I went to her this morning and we talked. She’s hesitant to give me a chance.” 

“She has every right to be hesitant.” Ward defends, you, “That’s her son.” 

“He’s mine too,” Rafe says, but sighs, “But you’re right. It is her son. I’ve given her no reason to trust me.” 

Ward nods, “Time will give her that. You’ve done the hardest part. Admitted you were wrong and apologized.” He squeezes Rafe’s shoulder, “It’s time for you to take responsibility.” 

Rafe nods in response, “I’m sorry dad. I should have told you the truth.” 

Ward agrees. He gives Rafe a small smile, “So I have a grandson, huh?” 

~ 

Rafe was in agony. It had been a week since he talked to you. You hadn’t tried reaching out yet and he was starting to get worried that you weren’t going to give him a second chance. He’d called it quits with Sofia, who didn’t take it easily, but she admitted she knew she’d seen a change in him after the beach day. And had admitted she’d wondered about Jackson. She saw the resemblance and the way Rafe had looked at you. He was still in love with you. 

You’d told the Pogues that morning over breakfast, JJ had flipped. 

“Like hell he deserves another chance!” 

“JJ, you don’t get to make the decision, I do.” 

JJ had left with a slam of the front door. He come back a couple hours later, calm and agreed. It wasn’t his place, but he still didn’t trust him. He didn’t want to see you hurt again. 

JJ had left with a slam of the front door. He come back a couple hours later, calm and agreed that it wasn’t his place, but he still didn’t trust him. He didn’t want to see you hurt again. 

~

Your heart is pounding against your chest as you take the stairs up to Rafe’s front door. You looked around the outside of the house. It was a nice, expensive house on the water. Two story on stilts as most houses near water are built. 

His truck was parked under the house so you knew he was home. 

You took a deep breath and knocked on the door. 

Rafe was surprised to see you at his front door. It had been a week and he was beginning to wonder if you were even gonna make a decision. The longer it took the more he felt he wasn’t going to get his second chance. 

“Hey,” 

“Hey,” you point inside, “can I come in so we can talk?” 

“Yeah yeah of course.” He opens the door wider for you to enter, closing it behind you. 

The place was clean and sleek. It looked like a bachelor pad. 

“You want anything to drink? I’ve got water, juice, a beer..” he chuckles softly, motioning to the kitchen. 

You follow him into the kitchen, “Water is fine,” You lay your purse in the chair at the island. “I’m gonna be honest, I’m nervous.”

He fixes you a glass of water and you take a chance to look around the room. 

“no need to be nervous,”

You see in the corner of the living room there’s a small kids battery powered jeep and a couple other shopping bags around it. 

He sees you have noticed the stuff and slides the water to you, “my dad.. he uh he bought it for Jackson and Rose picked up a few things for him too.” 

“Thats’s very sweet of them. But wait, you told your dad?” You’re surprised and look to him, “I thought you hated him.. you guys didn’t have a great relationship.” 

“We patched things up after I got back from rehab.” 

“Rehab?” You ask shocked, “I didn’t know, when did you go to rehab?” 

He clears his throat, “few months after we broke up. Or I broke things off. Ward found me half dead on some laced coke I bought and when I woke up he made me go to rehab. Best decision I could have made.” 

“That’s awesome, Rafe. Im happy for you. I know having a better relationship with your dad was what you always talked about wanting.” You give him a soft smile. 

“Yeah yeah it’s good now.” He heads toward the back deck overlooking the water and you follow taking in the view but Rafe, he’s watching you, taking you in. 

You catch him watching you and can’t help but blush, “why are you looking at me like that?” 

Now he blushes, embarrassed he’d been caught, “sorry, we can sit here to talk.” He takes a seat on the couch and you take a seat on the other side. 

You take a deep breath, “I’ve done a lot of thinking over this.” 

He nods, hands clasped together he places his elbows on his thighs leaning closer, “yeah?” 

You look at him, “We’ll start out easy and slow. He’s not to know you’re his dad yet. I want him to be comfortable with you. He doesn’t truly understand the whole dad thing either, so I don’t want to confuse him. We call all hang out together first and then if I feel comfortable enough maybe you can take him on your own for a couple hours. I don’t trust you yet, Rafe. You broke that trust and I need time. But I believe everyone deserves a second chance. And I want Jackson to grow up with a dad who loves him. Something JJ and I didn’t have growing up.” 

He resists every muscle in his body not to hug you. “I can be that. I will be that.” 

He reaches over and you let him take your hand, “thank you for this.” He gives it a gentle squeeze, “you don’t know how much this chance means to me.”

~ 

A couple days later you and Jackson meet Rafe at his house, planning to spend the day there. Rafe had asked you a million questions about Jackson; his likes, dislikes, what toys he liked to play with, what he liked to do. He wanted to know as much as he could so he could be prepared for today. 

“Hey!” Rafe greets at the door, “What’s up little man?” 

Jackson’s shy at first and he peeks out from your shoulder at Rafe, muttering a quiet, “Hi.” 

“He’s a little shy. And he just woke up from a nap.” you follow Rafe inside and he helps to take the bag off your shoulders. 

“It’s all good. I understand.” He nervously wipes his hands on his shorts, “I got his favorite foods. The kitchen is stocked and-” 

“Toys!” Jackson gasps, wiggling out of your arms and immediately taking off toward the pile of toys. The jeep Ward bought him was there and a couple other new toys Rafe picked up.  

“Can I play?” Jackson asks, his eyes lighting up. 

“They’re yours! You can play with them all. After lunch we can take that jeep outside and you can ride around the yard.” Rafe says, taking a seat on the couch to watch him. 

“You didn’t have to get all these...” You sit next to Rafe. 

Rafe shrugs, “I know but he didn’t have anything here. I want him to be comfortable.” He slips off the couch and sits in the floor next to Jackson, helping him open the toys. Rafe teaches him how to play with a couple of them, showing him how they work. 

You couldn’t believe the change in Rafe. It was like a different man sitting in the floor. And the resemblance between the two was uncanny. Both had the same look of concentration on their face and you laughed softly to yourself after snapping a picture. Sarah had asked how it was going, so you sent her the picture. She was happy to know her brother was stepping up and also made a comment about their same look of concentration. 

As you stared at Rafe, a new feeling was starting to take form. A longing for something more and hope that maybe you could get your happy ever after and your dream of a family to become a reality.

Comments, likes, & reblogs are always greatly appreciated! I love to read your thoughts on it. 

[liviawildrose]

𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

it’s a hard pill to swallow, but sometimes, you’ve got to step into a role you never signed up for. maybe your mom wasn’t the nurturing, protective figure she was supposed to be. maybe your dad let you down in ways that left scars. maybe your friends only stuck around to take, never to give. the truth? you can’t wait for someone to come and save you. you have to become your own mother.

ask yourself:

if your child was in your shoes—stuck in a bad relationship, getting treated like crap— would you tell them, “stay”? or would you say, “you deserve better than this”?

if your child was chasing their dreams but struggling, would you mock them? no. you’d guide them, push them to be their best. you’d discipline them with love and cheer them on with pride. now, apply that same energy to yourself.

be that mom who says: “get your shit together because you deserve the best life possible.”

but also the mom who says: “it’s okay to rest, i’ve got your back, and i’m proud of you.”

start showing up for yourself the way you needed someone to show up for you. and yes, it’s sad. sad that we even have to do this. but it’s also empowering to realize you can.

personally, here’s my story.

my mom never cared to take my pictures as a kid nor cared if a haircut made me happy or not, it was literally everything up to her convenience. it hurts now because i would’ve loved to look back and see those memories. but i don’t have them. i can count the photos of my childhood—20 pictures in 17 years. insane, right? so, i made a promise to myself: from now on, i will document my life. i won’t delete my photos. i’ll make sure there’s a record of who i was, what i felt, what i achieved. and when i have kids? you bet i’ll take pictures of them. i’ll curate their childhood with care because i know what it feels like to not have that.

but being your own mother isn’t just about the pictures or the memories. it’s about analyzing everything you missed out on and providing it for yourself now. it’s about being selfless enough to let go of bad habits that hold you back. it’s about kicking toxic people out of your life the way a mom would protect her child from bad influences. it’s about prioritizing your healing, even if it’s messy and uncomfortable. you have to heal your inner child. that 5-year-old who was bullied, that 13-year-old who was treated like shit in her first relationship, that 7-year-old who dreamed big but was told she couldn’t they’re all still inside you, waiting for someone to nurture them. and unfortunately, no one else is going to do it for you. no one else is going to come and fix the damage.

i made a pact with myself: when i have kids, i will raise them so well that they won’t ever need to “heal their inner child” at 17 or 18. they’ll be whole. they’ll be loved. they’ll know their worth from the start. but for now, i’m doing that for myself. and you need to do it for yourself too. because at the end of the day, the only way to heal is to become the person you needed all along. become your own mother.

what is the inner child?

the “inner child” is the part of you that holds your early experiences, memories, and emotions. it’s the 5-year-old you who loved to laugh but was scolded for being “too much.” it’s the 10-year-old you who dreamed big but felt dismissed. it’s the teen you who felt heartbreak for the first time but didn’t know how to process it. your inner child carries the wounds, fears, and unmet needs from your past, but also your natural creativity, curiosity, and joy. healing your inner child means reconnecting with this version of yourself, giving it the love and understanding it never received, and releasing the pain it has carried for years.

how do you heal your inner child?

1. journaling: dialogue with your inner child

dedicate a journal specifically to your inner child. write letters to them, like:

“dear [your name at 5/7/13], i remember when you felt [insert memory]. i’m sorry you went through that, but i’m here now, and i’ve got you.”

let your inner child respond. write as if you’re that younger version of yourself—pour out your fears, dreams, and questions. this process can uncover emotions and patterns you didn’t realize were affecting you.

2. therapy: safe exploration with a professional

a therapist (especially one trained in inner child work) can help you identify wounds and patterns from childhood. they’ll guide you in understanding how your upbringing shaped your beliefs about yourself and the world. therapy also gives you tools to reframe those beliefs and meet your emotional needs.

watch “dear zindagi” lol

3. look at old photos and memories

revisit old photos, journals, or artwork from your childhood. don’t just look at them—analyze them. (i wish i could d this but im stuck with 20 photos so… 😭) what do you notice in your younger self’s eyes, body language, or expression?

• ask yourself:

• what was i feeling here?

• did i feel safe? loved? excited? scared?

• what did i need in this moment that i didn’t get?

• use this reflection to understand your inner child’s unmet needs.

4. create new positive memories

your inner child is still alive within you, and they crave fun, love, and freedom. do things your younger self would’ve loved but never got to do: buy yourself a toy you always wanted. go to an amusement park or build a pillow fort. dance around your room like no one’s watching. this isn’t childish it’s healing.

5. practice reparenting

treat yourself as if you were your own child. when you feel sad or scared, don’t ignore it.

ask yourself: what do i need right now? and give it to yourself.

be the loving, supportive, and protective parent your inner child deserved.

6. identify triggers and patterns

notice when you’re acting out of a place of childhood wounds.

for example: do you get overly anxious when someone’s mad at you? do you seek validation in toxic relationships? trace these behaviors back to your childhood.

were you taught that love is conditional? did you have to “earn” attention by being perfect? once you identify the root, you can start rewiring your responses.

7. inner child meditations and visualizations

find a quiet space and imagine your inner child sitting across from you. visualize yourself comforting them, hugging them, and telling them they’re safe. remind them: “you don’t have to be scared anymore. i’m here for you.”

8. nurture yourself daily

make self-care non-negotiable. eat foods you love, sleep well, move your body, and spend time doing things that make you happy. when you treat yourself with care, you show your inner child they’re worth it.

9. forgive

healing isn’t about excusing those who hurt you. it’s about releasing the hold they have over you so you can move forward. write a forgiveness letter—not for them, but for yourself. (they don’t deserve the love i’m sorry)

“i release the pain you caused me so it doesn’t control me anymore.”

10. promise to break the cycle

vow to yourself (and your future children if you want them) just cause your grandma bleed on your mom and then your mom passed it to you does not mean you will make your future kids life miserable too. the generational trauma must break with you. your future child does not deserve it and so your inner child protect you inner child and when you have a child of your own be the best mother possible, i personally would love to make my future kids childhood so memorable and happy that they will feel the need to comeback and relive their childhood that’s the kind of childhood i want to give them

“i will not let this pain define me. i will create a life of love, joy, and freedom.”

healing your inner child isn’t easy, but it’s life-changing.when you reconnect with that innocent, wounded part of yourself, you’ll find that the love and peace you’ve been searching for has always been within you.

11. foster your inner child’s dreams

when you were a child, your dreams weren’t influenced by fear, rejection, or societal pressures. you dreamed with your heart wide open, purely and authentically. reconnecting with those dreams can heal the part of you that felt unheard or invalidated back then.

a. reflect on your childhood aspirations

• sit down and ask yourself:

• what did i want to be when i was 5? 10? 13?

• what made me happiest back then?

• what did i lose interest in because someone told me i wasn’t good enough?

• write down every dream, no matter how “unrealistic” it seems.

hint: those childhood dreams often point to your soul’s calling.

b. start chasing those dreams now

• even if your dreams have evolved, find ways to honor the essence of them.

• wanted to be a singer at 13? start singing lessons or recording yourself.

• wanted to help people? explore careers like psychology, teaching, or coaching.

• don’t hold back.

it’s not about being perfect, it’s about reconnecting with the passion your younger self had.

c. create small wins for your inner child

• maybe 8-year-old you always wanted to paint but never got the supplies. buy yourself a beginner’s set and paint, even if it’s messy.

• maybe 6-year-old you wanted to be a dancer. take a fun dance class and twirl like no one’s watching.

• small wins send the message to your inner child that they are finally being prioritized.

e. validate your inner child’s feelings and failures

• remind yourself:

“it’s okay that 10-year-old me struggled with making friends. i was just a child trying my best.”

• instead of shaming yourself for past actions, honor them.

every mistake was a step toward becoming the incredible person you are now.

f. use your dreams to shape your future

• your childhood passions aren’t just hobbies—they’re roadmaps to your authentic self.

• align your current goals with your inner child’s desires.

• if 7-year-old you dreamed of making people smile, maybe your career or side hustle should reflect that.

• if 12-year-old you loved storytelling, find ways to write, act, or share your voice.

fostering your inner child’s dreams doesn’t just heal the past—it builds a future that feels authentic to you. every time you take a step toward those dreams, you’re telling your inner child: “you were always worthy. your dreams always mattered. and now, i’m making them come true for you.”

[daddyd0nt]

You’re either being purposely obtuse or intellectually dishonest but what you are saying is literally patriarchal brainwashing and so bafflingly sexist that you clearly either hate AFAB people or don’t take harm against us seriously. It’s “transphobia” to demand and maintain sex segregated spaces? Transphobia isn’t the violent males who kill trans people, it’s the AFABs who won’t sacrifice our PHYSICAL SAFTY to protect AMAB ego? Classic AMAB entitlement. Yall tell on yourselves so loud. SRS does not erase male socialization idgaf how dysphoric a AMAB person is their emotional comfort should not be prioritized over AFAB safety. You really think it is acceptable for a AFABs to be victimized so AMABs can feel validated in some weird postmodern sense of constructed identity? We don’t need to check genitals I would have no problem with the manliest most masculine most passing trans man in an afab space because no matter what hormones or surgery are involved they cannot rape and impregnate me with their penis the same way an AMAB person could. We don’t need to check gender if we normalize beating the dog shit out of AMABs who threaten us and disrespect our safety by entering our spaces. D you think AFAB trans people should be put in male spaces, not only bathrooms but hospitals and prisons, where they will be at an even greater danger risk of rape than a AMABs trans person and also stand to suffer greater biological consequences since an AFAB person who gets raped by an AMAB one runs the risk of pregnancy. Also trans AMAB people commit sex crimes at an even higher rate than cis AMAB people, they are literally the largest recorded demographic of sex criminals, and I should sacrifice my safety and let them into my spaces (which again did not START segregated they became that way because AMAB people could t be trusted not to rape/assault AFAB ones)?

Also “capitalism is real because it impacts me in a negative way but all other forms of oppression where I might be considered the privileged one in the dynamic is just hysterical people distracting from capitalism” you aren’t even trying to be subtle in your misogyny go join MGTOW.

“If you include trans people who are also oppressed by patriarchy in your fight against patriarchy but don’t include your oppressors who benefit from patriarchy regardless of gender presentation you are hateful I hope you understand this uwu” literally such a long form way to say you don’t want AFAB people to have a movement where we address our own needs because AMAB people can’t emotionally cope with any reminders that they are privileged under patriarchy exclusively for being AMAB.

I have no problem with trans people, I know and love a good amount of people of both sexes who identify as trans. I trust them fully. That doesn’t mean that women who don’t personally know them are obligated to trust them. And it’s not just bathrooms, I spend a LOT of time in institutions specifically high security mental hospitals for violent/psychotic patients including people sent over from the jails for being too mentally ill to incarcerate. I have to take sleeping pills at night and fall unconscious in a room with these people where I’m only checked on every 15-30 mins which is PLENTY of time for something bad to happen. I don’t want to risk having to share that kind of space with an AMAB person. If trans AMAB people don’t want to be housed with cis ones, they can do the legwork and create those spaces for themselves like AFAB people did they do NOT have the right to commandeer our movement and literally erase our rights and protections because not allowing AMAB people into these vulnerable spaces might give them the big sad. My not wanting AMAB people in AFAB spaces is not from not knowing them, it’s because I DO know them and listen to what is said about AFAB people in TRA spaces and know just how AMAB they are in their entitlement to everything from space to sex.

“You are letting fear define your politics” YEAH MY GUY IM FORCED TO LIVE LIKE A FUCKING PREY ANIMAL!!! Some fear is completely rational. AMAB people can not be trusted in AFAB spaces and your suggestion that I should be okay with even a fraction of a percent of AFABs being physically harmed so AMABs feel emotionally validated is absolutely disgusting and proves how patriarchal you are.

Gender is literally fake and varies from culture to culture. Sex based oppression is real and fucks over the lives of AFAB people worldwide. I’m not basing my politics on protecting feelings, I’m basically them on protecting AFAB people from actual tangible oppression.

"OP is a terf" is a thought-terminating cliche meant to keep you from questioning the status quo and keep you afraid of being labeled a heretic should you come to your own conclusions about anything.

[bunnysdollette]

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁ start acting your age and not your shoe size love 👟✨

⟢ hey my wonderful angels! here are a few tips to start building maturity and stop doing little girl activities. this is your wake up call. the faster you realize this, the better

(also love this photo of brina)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ GET SERIOUS ABOUT YOUR GOALS

in this life I would say there’s about a 5% of people that actually become successful and fulfilled. which one do you want to be; the person who is happy and living comfortably years from now or the person that chose to follow what everyone else was doing like a sheep and ignored what they wanted to accomplish?

NO goal is too difficult. NO dream is too big. Muhammad Ali once said, ``If your dreams don't scare you, they aren't big enough.'' So get serious about what you want in life or be left behind in the dust.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ STRIVE TO BE AN INDIVIDUAL

It’s OKAY to be different. Our differences are what make us unique and capable of what the next person can’t. Your strengths and your weaknesses will both push you forward in life if you learn how to use them properly.

You have to strive to take pride in your differences and be confident when people challenge your identity. Because at the end of the day the only person that knows YOU best is YOU. When you develop that confidence and self-assured mindset that nobody can tell you who you are because you already do, NOBODY can take that away from you.

Stop following the rest of the flock. If there’s something you dream about or want to accomplish that’s outside of the norm, that’s where your purpose probably lies. If you are a person different from the collective, you are meant for bigger things.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ LEARN WHEN AND HOW YOU SHOULD RESPOND

there’s a time and place for everything. I’m not saying you shouldn’t respond to disrespect, because that makes it like other people can do the same to you and you won’t do anything, but depending on the severity of the situation, sometimes it’s just better to ignore that shit.

if there are people you know who are partaking in these little kid activities like making up silly lies about you, trying to get you to fight them or argue with them, DO NOT feed into that.

They will call you scared, stupid, or whatever else, but that’s all because they’re mad they can’t get that reaction out of you. If someone is trying to take you off of your path, the last thing you should do is spend even an ounce of energy on them.

Your energy is sacred. Use it wisely.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ STAY FOCUSED ON WHAT MATTERS

one of my favorite quotes ever is “it is what it is”. Whoever came up with that quote was extremely wise because it’s the exact embodiment of staying focused and not worrying about little kid shit that nobody will remember in the next five years.

What is Important to you? Drama, trying to conform, chasing things that aren’t meant for you, or reaching your goals, achieving success, and achieving fulfillment?

YOUR values should dictate YOUR life. You can’t say you want to become “that girl” and “level up your life” then turn around and invest so much energy in unnecessary shit that serves you no purpose.

And don’t think I’m saying this with any level of elitism or like I’m better because I’m saying this, I’m not. We all have shit to work on. But some of you have a lot more work to do than others and a lot more work to do to stay on the right path. This is your sign. Stop that nonsense

[kawoala]

⁝ KUROO TETSURO 𝜗𝜚 boxer! kuroo 𝜗𝜚

ᰔ word count ; 851

ᰔ content warning ; profanity 、 blood 、 boxer! kuroo 、 implied rich girl! reader 、 kindof poor boy x rich girl? 、 boxer! lev 、 mention of gambling?? (yaku, what r u doing my brother?).

you’ve never been to a club like this; the people here are a stark contrast to your personality.

whereas they are dark, broody, drugged-out criminals probably raised in trailer parks and trap houses, you were raised to be a good girl with perfect grades - and to never, ever go near drugs or alcohol.

whereas the people around you are dirty, wearing clothes they probably haven’t changed in a week, you’re careful of the people around you, careful not get dirt and muck on your very expensive shirt and your very tiny skirt.

but, you fell in love with kuroo.

four months ago, when your calculus teacher had shown interest in kuroo’s horrible math grades, she’d emailed you, asking if you would be able to tutor him until his grades improved. and of course you said yes because you’re a sucker for extra credit.

and then he was charming and he was funny and he was smart - something you hadn’t expected because, well, you were his tutor. every time you had a session, he made you laugh like it was his job.

so, of course you fell in love with him. and of course you only found out that he was in an illegal boxing ring until after you had confessed to him.

which is how you ended up here; standing in a crowd of criminals, watching your boyfriend beat the shit out of one of his friends for fun.

your brows are furrowed as lev - of all people - throws a right hook, resulting in a line of blood dribbling down kuroo’s upper lip. he’s hot, that’s for certain, but this is not making you happy. your boyfriend's pretty face is getting all messed up.

you blink and then lev is on the floor, sitting with his legs bent, forearms resting against his knees. there’s a smile on his face, despite the blood oozing from his… mouth? nose? you can’t even tell.

and then your eyes drift to kuroo, who’s holding his fists up in victory. you briefly note that they’re not even using gloves, but that thought is dismissed when you lock eyes with your boyfriend.

he’s bleeding, which would make you upset if he didn’t look so fucking hot. there’s a sheen of sweat covering his whole body, shining in the overhead light. his hair is messy - messier than usual, matted to his forehead from sweat. he still has his mouthguard in, but he’s grinning wide as ever. he points to you and winks and your knees are weak.

“lev lost!” yaku exclaims from beside you, knocking you from your trance. you turn to him and tilt your head. “he fucking lost! oh my god, i just lost so much money.”

he puts his head in his hands and curses again, which only makes you laugh. you can’t believe this is a thing that people bet on. and, no offense, but you can’t believe people bet on lev winning.

next thing you know, you’re sitting on a bench in the locker room of the grimy club, bouncing your leg as you watch kuroo unwrap his fists. your eyes are glued to his hands, bloodied and bruised.

“did you have fun?”

you look up to find him staring down at you, lazy smirk on his face. “what? o- oh, um, yeah, it was…” you trail off, eyes drifting down to your now ruined shoes. you hum. “it was kind of… scary, actually.” you can hear him stop moving, so you keep talking. “watching you get hit like that? yeah, that sucked. i mean, don’t get me wrong, you looked really fucking hot, but…” you shrug, sighing.

there’s a silence that hangs in the air. you can tell he’s trying to decide if he should be funny or genuine.

“y/n,” he says slowly. his shoes come into your field of vision, but you know if you look up, you’ll probably start crying. “hey, come on, sweets, look at me.”

as soon as you look up, his hands cup your face and he leans down to press a quick kiss to your lips.

when he pulls away, he smiles softly. “i’m okay. you know that right?” you nod and he laughs, pulling you into a hug, smashing your face into his stomach. “i’m okay. you hear me, lady? i’m alright.”

you laugh now, too, pushing away from him playfully. “ugh, i hate you!” you exclaim as he loosens his grip. the smile on his face lets you know that he knows you don’t really mean it. and, of course, you don’t.

he stares at you for a moment longer before jerking his head towards the door. “come on, let’s get out of here. we can go get ice cream or something.”

“ice cream?” you repeat, raising a brow. you stand up, not even reaching his nose. “and what are we going to do when the worker sees your busted lip and freshly bruised eye, hm?”

he inhales, puffing his chest out, holding his breath. he exhales on a laugh, throwing his arm over your shoulders. “yeah, we’ll go through the drive-thru, ‘kay?”

[lara4eclipze]

“i love you”

sypnosis -» "I don't care what they say — I love you that's what matters" you scolded manon

beware! -» fluff , angst , crying , comfort, sick , swearing, cyber bullying, stupid hoes

talks -» hey so recently manon got sick and she couldn't attend the MAMA Awards — some lame hoes decided to use this as a way to hate her , friendly fucking reminder she's a person not a fuckin' robot stupid bitches , I hope y'all burn btw...!

taglist (open) -» @nyssalvr @ohmyhaely @vrtualstar @c-yerim @jellaaa

it wasn't much of a secret that the girls especially lara and manon got so much hate when the documentary got released — death threats , bullying , racism and etc — it took a toll out of their mental health especially since they were just getting started being an idol

recently katseye got invited to perform at the MAMA Awards , this was big the MAMA Awards is one of the biggest award ceremony in korea — so the girls spent weeks practicing their presentation for the awards

many sleepless nights and hours upon hours of practice took a negative turn for manons body — just two days before the awards she had to announce her mini hiatus due to her having a fever

obviously she was devastated, but she knew the rest of the girls were gonna do good—although she wished that she could also perform

"babyy i miss you :((" manon texts you , it was pretty early so you went to their dorms , you drive faster than usual sensing something was wrong

you knock on the door waiting for her to open it—well what greeted you was manon sniffling with a blanket draped over her frame

"baby what's wrong??" you ask entering the abode , she hugs you not muttering a word , as your shirt absorbed her tears , you held her head closer to you but you felt like she was burning "your burning up , are you alright?— did you take your medicine yet?" a motherly way of concern starts to take over you

"i-im okay" she sniffles yet again , finally she lifts up her head — her eyes were puffy her nose red and her face coated with her tears

"no you're not baby , tell me what's bothering you?" you sternly said to her , you both sat down on the couch with her clung onto you

"I just - I saw videos and comments that I wasn't sick that I was just lazy but I'm not!—i work as hard as everyone does!" manon exclaims her hands flailing around , angry and upset tears leaving her eyes as she stumbled over her words

"I know , you shouldn't care about what they say — they're just jealous of you" you said comforting her , her frown deepens "no they just hate me" she says , your heart breaks at everything manon had to endure

"I don't care what they say — I love you that's what matters , not some stupid comment made by someone who probably can't achieve the things you have" you scolded — her tears soon dried up and a smile forms on her face

"I love you too" she smiles , her lips now on yours as a tint of pink made it's way to your cheeks — "now take your medicine" you mutter , she groans

"it tastes like shit — I'm not even over exaggerating it" manon mumbles pouting at you

"language and no just because you look cute doesn't mean you won't take your medicine" you chuckle at her attempt to stop you from making her drink her medicine

"no fair"

"you're sick not me"

after watching a movie and finally making manon drink some paracetamol — she peacefully falls asleep whilst her head was on your lap , you made a soothing motion on her scalp

"you're so pretty" you mumble looking at her peaceful face

sometimes you wish that manon didn't go thru the dream academy, or even became a member if you only knew it meant her being bullied online — yet your thankful that she was with people that loved her , eyekons, katseye, and you

manon deserves where she is now ,no one and I mean no one could tell you otherwise — she worked hard and shed her blood sweat and tears for this and for that you are proud of her

[https-diavolo]

Diavolo furrowed his brows, trying to keep his resolve from faltering. There was too much happening — too many words coming to the surface. He briefly wondered if Lucifer's brothers could hear all the shouting.

He felt unsafe. He had never felt more unsafe with Lucifer before, really.

"No amount of explanation can change abuse, Lucifer! The things you say aren't just hurtful words! They're worse than that!" Diavolo had never wanted to fight like this. He never liked yelling very much, but it was hard to remain quiet when Lucifer was practically screaming at him.

"I get it, okay?! Being perfect is hard! I get that! But I never asked you to be perfect! I never asked you to change! I only asked you to treat me like a fucking person! But you cant do that, can you? Because no one is a person to you! We're all just... below you!" Diavolo wasn't even sure if he meant the last few words, but it felt like things were just... spilling. Gods, did they even really know each other? It was starting to feel like they didnt.

"I don't do jack shit all day! I work my life away to make sure that everything runs smoothly! To make sure that the Devildom is a place that people want to be! I'm not just some lazy prince who sits on his throne all day! I wanted you, Lucifer! You! Not whatever facade you put on! And, gods willing, I wanted to love you! But I can't let myself do that if all you want is to hurt me. I can't. Words matter. You can be as prideful as you want, but words matter." Diavolo paused to breathe, his chest heaving with panic and anger. He was ready to leave at this point — this wasn't going anywhere. The argument was going to go on forever. Lucifer would never let Diavolo have the last word, would he?

"I'm sorry you're hurt. I'm sorry you've been through so much. But so have I, and I would never use it to hurt the people who love me."

We need to talk, Lucifer. Whether you're busy or not.

- @https-diavolo

…why

[silentmouthpiece]

I wish Jimmy wasn't a static villain, but I'm glad he wasn't. It's terrifyingly interesting to watch this man crumble underneath the weight of his mistakes. Kinda wanna put him in a blender.

Jimmy resents Curly for not being satisfied with the ideal life that he [Jimmy] could never achieve on his own. A life style that we all are told are the marks of success, but we have to break our backs and trudge through mud to even get a glimpse of and it's not even what most people want or need. Jimmy bought into the golden standard he believed Curly achieved and tried to mimic him. But Curly, a captain shaped by the greedy corporate powers that be, is only a facade of a captain. A mirage that disappears when you get closer, but Jimmy is delusional as fuck so he taped that mirage to his forehead and kept chasing it like his life depended on it.

In his eyes I guess it did.

Jimmy's relationship with Pony Express is weird as fuck, but I think it makes sense if Jimmy attaches so much importance to it because it influences his life so much. Curly, Jimmy's golden ideal, gives him a chance to escape his "rough life" with Pony Express and climb up the ladder to achieve that golden standard for himself. Pony Express is such a shitty ladder though, with its lackluster policies and disregard for their employees and working conditions but Jimmy holds on because it's his lifeline. As a a pilot he gets to take control of his life. It's not easy and it's far from ideal but it's better than home, so he makes it his home. One things that you do when you're home is get comfortable enough to shit in it.

Jimmy rapes Anya on the Tulpar. On the job for Pony Express. He did it at least 2 out of 11 months in, because Anya notes that there are eight months left on the ship to Curly and we know she knew she was pregnant by then. I don't know why he did it, I cannot fathom what compelled him to allow himself that impulse but he did it. In doing so he planted the seed for the life he wanted to achieve that would strip it from him before he even accomplishes it and it grows out of his control.

Let's rewind a bit. Curly revealing to the crew that Pony Express was going down and laying them off was essentially heaven closing the gate on Jimmy with a nice helping of spit on his face. It was bad news for everyone, but woooow Jimmy took it real personal after the talk he had with Curly about a week(?) before. About leaving Pony Express for something more fulfilling. Jimmy put two and three together to make four and accused Curly of being happy with this outcome and leaving them behind for a more satisfying life while everyone else is left with nothing to show for their struggles working for the company. We know that's not true, but Jimmy is essentially witnessing his golden ideal, who handed him this fool's gold of an opportunity to achieve the golden standard, close the very door he opened after telling Jimmy that he doesn't even like said door. Jimmy loses it and lashes out.

(... you know... that might be why Jimmy did... all that. If they got the news before he ever assaulted Anya Jimmy didnt have too much to lose that he hadnt lost already, so why not take control however he can and feel good.) Ah fuck, wait, no. Shit... fuck!

If Jimmy raped Anya because Pony Express is going down and Polle represents Anya and/or the unborn baby... im not even sure where Im going with this but if he raped Anya cuz he felt cheated of the ideal life (one that typically says you need a spouse and kids) I will put myself in the cryopod with Curly. Im not saying he did it to start a family, but as a means of taking whatever slice of cake he can before it all goes to shit.

I said all that to explore why Jimmy cracked so hard but now I feel like I unearthed something and I dont know how I feel about it. Ack!

I dont know if I need to make this clear, but I am not excusing his actions. I'm trying to get into his head. Turning him over to see what made him tick the way he did. It's fun.

Edit: i did a follow-up reblog that sums it up better

[tyrantisterror]

Wherefore Art Thou Clownfucker?

A while back I made a post explaining why vampires appeal to me, and while it was mostly in a more general sense, there was a specific focus on why I find them, you know, hot. And it was that was in part because I had recently discovered that I'm apparently surrounded by Werewolf fuckers on here, much to my dismay as a Vampire fucker. It's like being the only goth kid at a rockabilly concert or something. I felt defensive, is the point! I needed to go to bat (heh) for my pale ladies (and Astarion.... and Spike)!

And now, because Muncher compels me to do so, I'm doing the same for Clowns. My other pale ladies.

Now, keep in mind the fact that I'm a monsterfucker first and foremost, and that my clownfuckery is really more derived from my monsterfuckery. I imagine the middle section of the Clownfucker/Monsterfucker diagram is pretty big, but I also know there are some clownfuckers who are very much NOT monsterfuckers, and vice versa. This is not the case for vampirefuckers, who are nestled firmly within the monsterfucker circle, because while all vampires are monsters, not all clowns are monsters. I bring this up because while I'm gonna try to explain clownfuckery on its own terms, there is likely going to be some monsterfucker bias in my explanations and defense. That's just how it is on this bitch of an earth!

I'm gonna get real pretentious here and talk about the historic role of clowns for a moment. From Comedia del Arte harlequins to medieval court Jesters, the clown's role has always been that of Comic Relief. They are, simply put, here to be tonally dissonant - when everyone else is serious and dramatic, a clown comes in as this weird, silly, incongruously hilarious element that contrasts the gravity of everything around them. "Relief" is really the key word here - a clown's job is to provide levity when otherwise there would be none. When everything is dark, they provide a little light.

That's the core emotional appeal of clownfucking - a clown is/should be someone who can make you smile when you need it the most. Kingdom's at war, family's fighting, your life's in shambles? The clown will make you laugh. Everything feels dark and gloomy and depressing? Here comes a silly little goofball wearing bright, clashing colors and jingling with each step because they're covered in bells, and all they want to do is tell jokes until you start laughing. Clowns are, by intent, that sweet sweet hit of dopamine personified.

Clowns are here to make you smile.

Another important historical detail about clowns is their unique place in the hierarchy of society - namely, being entirely outside of it. A jester was in some respects the lowest person on the totem pole, a fool that had power over no one and nothing, living to be laughed at. Yet, because they had no power over anyone, it was generally poor taste to take offense to anything a jester said, which meant they could talk more freely than anyone else - when everyone else acts like a butt-kissing sycophant, a jester is free to talk shit and speak their mind.

The traditional attire and appearance of clowns plays into both of these traits: the bright, gaudy clothing and makeup is silly, yes, but it's also a sign that the clown does not give a single shit about fashion and other social norms. A clown is, by nature, an anomaly, a misfit, a rebel.

Nowadays we have another word for people with that attitude. Clowns are punk.

Weird makeup, crayola red hair, patchwork clothes...

I would say the very fact that "normal" people look at clownfucking as some sort of inexplicable fetish is, in fact, part of the appeal. It's a form of xenophilia, of attraction to things that are different and othered, a love for outsiders and misfits and oddballs. To fuck a clown is to show love and adoration for something outside of the realm of what is socially acceptable - something silly, goofy, and weird, yet also often harmless. After all, a clown's main purpose is to make you smile.

That's not to say that clowns have to be harmless to be attractive, mind you. Tons of people, many much smarter than I, have talked about the cultural shift of our perception of clowns that began somewhere in the 1980's. Clowns went from being viewed as genuinely fun and cute to primarily being figures of fear and terror - if a clown shows up in modern media, even if it's innocuous, there will always be at least one character who vocally talks about how creepy they think clowns are.

That may in part be due to the fact that clowns have such a benign mission statement - a lot of people, especially nowadays, do not trust a person who claims they just want to make others happy. Anyone who acts like that MUST be up to something - there must be something nefarious going on, some evil plan, some lurking danger.

Which is where you REALLY bring the monsterfuckers in.

You really don't need to do that much with a clown's design to push it firmly into monster territory - "a pale person with sharp teeth" is the bare minimum it takes to make a vampire, after all (and even the pale part can be downplayed).

And a clown's dedication to making things "funny" can make for a very enjoyably-scary persona for a monster - hell, half the appeal of the Addams Family is that they're a bunch of freakish inhuman monsters who react to a bunch of scary shit with absolute delight and adoration. Again, the tonal dissonance element is at play here, albeit in a different way - even when Clowns are the darkness in your world, they still bring light in the sense that they view it that darkness as funny in of itself.

(hell, the word "harlequin" means "five horns," and may be rooted in folkloric monsters like Herne the Hunter depending on who you ask, so in a way clowns have always been monster-coded)

I think all of this is pretty well exemplified in the current Patron Saint of Clownfuckers, the goddess of Clownfuckery if you will, Harley Quinn. Hailing from a story whose main setting is such a Gothic Horror-inspired nightmarish shithole of a city that it's literally called Gotham, surrounded by characters who are at least 60% gothic horror archetypes by volume, opposed by a hero who literally dresses like a Dracula, it is inarguable that Harley Quinn is surrounded by darkness that's both literal and figurative.

But she's always smiling, and not in an ironic way.

Harley Quinn suffers intense abuse, she's drawn into wicked schemes, and in the way of most modern clowns, she causes no small amount of mayhem and suffering herself. But even at her darkest, she's always smiling, always trying to find the bright side.

She's a rebel, she's a punk. Almost everyone thinks she's beneath them. Almost all of those people get proven they're wrong. In a world full of tyrannical hierarchies, she steps outside of them.

She's an outsider, a misfit, an oddball. And she wants to make you smile.

I think you can probably see the appeal of that.

[thatonebitheaterkid]

Please read this.I'm trying to warn Others about some people

hii This happened.A little while back but I haven't really told many people.Only people I saw who I knew personally and I Cared about Interacting with these people So I warned them I wouldn't want them going through what I went through So there's some people who are pretty prominent in the rp Community girls-gays-and-blades sweetxloverxx theas-clubhouse childofthewargod ofaresandnemesis theorphicforest SoYou've probably seen them and you probably thought they were nice They aren't

So me and my best friend ran a server Another main person in this.I won't be saying their name I am just going to refer to them.As color as their name is a color SoColor was extremely toxic And a terrible person Me and my best friend Are both miners We had no Fucking Idea How to deal with Someone Being terrible and toxic We were both forced Into the rolls Where we had to take care of this Person I scared if I Wasn't friends with them they would kill themselves We didn't know how to Handle it

So one day theorphicforest Created a group chat with me in my best friend And created an entire Very long paragraph about color And we tried our best to explain why we haven't done Anything So My best friend had to leave the group chat as They were saying something triggering to my best friend.For reasons.I won't be sharing because my best friend deserves privacy So I made an announcement explaining everything.The best I could explaining how they were banned from the server and how they would not come back and how I was sorry and we were sorry But then theorphicforest Started saying that He told us multiple times He Did Fucking not So everyone was starting to be mean.And we decided it would be better if we just left and gave up ownership.So we did but after we left theas-clubhouse girls-gays-and-blades ofaresandnemesis childofthewargod theorphicforest sweetxloverxx Started shit talking us Being completely mean and it was uncalled for And fucked up. The only reason me and my best friend know we were shit.Talked is because one of our friends was still on the Server.She is an amazing person.I won't be saying Her name Because she deserves privacy She took Screenshots and showed us I still have these screenshots If anyone would like to see these screenshots I will gladly show them. Please do not Reblog this and @ them. I don't want them Seeing this. I don't want to have to interact with them. And if you have any problems with me Speaking out about this then we can't be friends And I would prefer for you To block me

[1800naveen]

Dictatorship (Rhysand's version)

I made a post of Rhysand and Feyre being Donald and Melania Trump in another universe and have called him and the inner circle the definition of Fascism, nobody better not get butthurt over this. If you do, I don't give a fuck.

IF YOU LIKE RHYSAND AND/OR THE INNER CIRCLE, THIS POST IS NOT FOR YOU! LEAVE NOW, I WILL BE SHITTING ON THEM!

Let's start with a definition. What is dictatorship? A dictatorship is a government or a social situation where one person makes all the rules and decisions without input from anyone else. What is a dictator? A dictator is a political person who rules a country with total authority and often in a cruel or brutal way.

Notorious dictators and dictatorships in history are: Vladimir Lenin and Joseph Stalin of the Soviet Union, Benito Mussolini of Fascist Italy, Adolf Hitler of Nazi Germany, Hirohito of Imperial Japan, Pol Pot of the Khmer Rouge, and Mao Zedong of People's Republic of China.

Rhysand is the High Lord of the Night Court and has earned himself a reputation of being a cruel and evil man to the other Courts of Prythian. To others, the Night Court is seen as the Court of Nightmares; a land of cruelty but it's only a cover up to hide Velaris, the city of starlight and where Rhysand truly lives. The existence of Velaris is unknown with the expectation of a few people.

What makes someone a dictator? Google did not give me a clear answer so I had to go on Chat GPT and it gave me this (apologies if you don't like ai): Concentration of power, control over military and security forces, propaganda and censorship, repression and human rights abuse, and economic control. There are three more examples but I picked the ones that relate to Rhysand the most.

Concentration of power: As High Lord, Rhysand is the most powerful person in the Night Court. What he says, goes. His word is law. You can't go against him without facing punishment for it. If you are from Velaris, it doesn't matter because to you, Rhysand is a nice guy and a good ruler. To those in Illyria and Hewn City, he pays no attention to you. He doesn't give a damn about you.

Control over military and security forces: Whenever battle or war is coming, Rhysand goes to the Illyrian warriors and their warbands to aid him. He also has the darkbringers, elite warriors from the Court of Nightmares and are under the leadership of Keir come to his aid when Hybern attacks. Velaris was attacked in ACOMAF and Rhys and the inner circle went to defend their home and people but have they done the same for the Illyrians? Hewn City citizens? To them, the safety of Velaris will always be more important than the other two regions. That's just sad.

Propaganda and censorship: When it comes to making decisions, Rhysand either makes them himself or with the help of the inner circle. They may agree but as the high lord, his authority can never be challenged by them. As it is known to many, Rhysand has a track of using manipulation for his own gain or his court. Because of this, it forged the "the night court is evil" belief and the daemati powers don't make things better. He manipulates Feyre in the first book and makes her his pawn, doing it without her consent. Rhysand keeps many secrets hidden from the other courts which is somewhat normal but there are secrets that are crucial for other courts to know of. The cauldron for example or the book stolen from the summer court. He'll justify it as a way of protection when it's really not. (The pregnancy thing in acosf, cough.) He uses fear and intimidation when he feels it necessary and/or to keep control and it works all the time. An example would be how he acts when he visits Hewn City or the Spring Court.

To the night court, Rhysand is this great hero who sacrificed so much and will do anything for them. Which is true but it only goes for Velaris. To the other courts and Hewn City, Rhysand is as I said before, cruel and evil. The way the inner circle speaks of Rhysand (straight up dick riding), you would think he's one of the best things since sliced bread.

Repression and human rights abuse: What is repression? It's the act of using force to control a group of people and limit their freedom. What group in acotar has limited freedom and/or are controled? You guessed it, Hewn City citizens and Illyrians! What is human rights abuse? Anything that harms a person's rights but in this case, let's go with abuse of rights (since Illyrians aren't human).

The women of Illyria and Hewn city suffer under the system of men. In both regions, it rules under a patriarchal system. The Illyrian women have their wings clipped so that they can be used for breeding purposes and the Hewn women are sold off into marriages, even bidding their virginities. All these women face abuse (either physical, mental, or sexual) and their high lord has done nothing to stop it.

Rhysand knows the pain of sexual abuse and yet, this still happens to the women. "But the library!" HOW THE FUCK ARE HEWN WOMEN GOING TO MAKE IT THERE? HE DOESN'T LET THEM LEAVE, THINKS THEY'RE ALL EVIL, AND THEY DON'T KNOW IT EXISTS?

A woman with Illyrian wings is never mentioned; yes, we don't know if there is one or not but you think that a lady with big bat wings, someone would point it out. You're telling me that I'm getting abused by all the men in my life and there's a haven for women like me but I can't get access to it because I was born in the court of nightmares?

Ah! ça ira, ça ira, ça ira, Les aristocrates à la lanterne! Ah! ça ira, ça ira, ça ira, Les aristocrates on les pendra!

You may say that Rhysand has to let the Illyrians do their own thing so that they cooperate with him but here's the thing, Rhysand is a daemati. Daemati is the ability to control and infiltrate a person's mind. He could easily go into the minds of the Illyrian men and tell them to stop with the wing clipping and boom, problem solved but he doesn't. The same thing with Hewn men, go into their mind and tell them to stop these arranged marriages and biddings.

But as long as Rhysand needs soldiers and as long as Velaris is at peace, Illyria and Hewn city will suffer for it. The sins of the father if you want to call it. Always an angel (Illyria and Hewn city), never a god (Velaris).

Economic control: What is economic control? It can be seen as a form of abuse as it prevents someone from gaining financial independence. Measures of which governments use to manage and/or their economy.

The Illyrians have it rough. Like rough, rough. They don't live in houses like Velaris or Hewn City citizens. They live in war camps. WAR CAMPS. Their situation is so bad that Cassian handed out blankets. I'm taking a guess and going with the idea that the Illyrians use their money on weapons and training, etc. "Who needs proper housing when we can fight!" I know they make their own money through trade or selling/making clothes but y'all can't afford to make a house?

A lot of the riches in the night court is stored in Velaris but where the hell do they get it from? Their mountains? It will eventually run dry. Trading? Why must the Illyrians live like this and not experience a similar life to Velaris? They don't have to change the entire thing but at least, build them houses or cottages.

Do you know what a war camp looks like in real life?

But this is a fantasy book so it looks like this:

This is not a post to be taken seriously, it's just for fun, I enjoy writing analysis (analyses?) on things I like or hate, no in between.

I am only a woke libtard who doesn't turn off their brain to enjoy a book but instead, will read and analyze/give my critics😔. If only I could act like you booktok girlies who don't bat (get it?) an eye at the weird choices and decisions in the series and who will eat up the very questionable actions of my favorite morally grey man because tattoos, dark hair, shadow daddy, grooming underage girls, committing acts of sexual assault, being abusive and justifying that abuse because tragic backstory, yada yada.

I hold some of my favorite characters accountable for their actions but I don't justify it, it's very easy to do. Yes, they have trauma but it's not an excuse to do what they did.

I am only a teenage girl who loves to hate and act like a hypocritical bitch because what's more fun in life than making grown adults mad because of my unpopular/controversial opinions?

Why are you mad that I'm insulting your "book husband"? It's not my fault your book husband is a POS and that your own husband that you married can't satisfy you so you have to turn to fairy porn and hardcore smut to get rid of your blue balls.

I would like to give thanks to @sonics-atelier for giving me some help and thanks to booktok for unironically making me hate men.

Edit: "You're taking this too seriously!" Number one, I don't care. Number two, I'm a history nerd who once spiraled down a path of learning about dictators. Number three, I'm an American. I know what a dictator looks and acts like, we're going to have one in office for the next four years.

(This has been sitting in my drafts for months and whenever I felt like it, I worked on it.)