#this morning i had the intention to screenshot it

[asteracaea]

[xinganhao]

🍻 svt reacts to your drunk texts.

@hopeless-foolery → "how would the members react to you cutely drunk texting them?"

⌗ ┆i too would be drunk texting svt about how much i adore them... ⁽⁽ଘ( ˊωˋ )ଓ⁾⁾

‧₊˚✩彡 includes: drunk!reader (mentions of alcohol), intentional typos, established relationship, pet names, fluff!!! yipee, slight crack, cussing, [short] headcanons under the cut.

🍻 headcanons .ᐟ

— would make fun of you ✩ jeonghan, junhui, soonyoung, mingyu, seungkwan.

svt have had their fair share of seeing each other drunk, so it should come as little/no surprise that they've got a little bit of a teasing streak when it comes to a drunk you. soonyoung beats them all out by a mile in the sense that he will demand to be drinking with you. he can't have you being the only one having all the fun! if he can, he'll roll up and drink with you until you're both drunkenly blabbering to each other. mingyu uses the opportunity to ask drunk you a bunch of the silliest questions. he'll be very serious as he tries to get you to answer the perilla leaf debate, for instance, because he thinks you're most likely to be a little more honest (and very cute) when you've got a little bit of alcohol in you. as for jeonghan, his exploitation is a lot more light hearted; he's quick to seize the chance to fish for compliments. he thinks it's amusing, how you'll get all flustered in the morning. "no take backs!" he'll claim as he basks in all your sweet words. junhui is similar in the sense that he's already taken dozens of screenshots of your drunk texts. as leverage, of course, but also for him to look back on a rainy day. one of his favorite things is finding ways to surprise you when you're drunk, because he knows you'll get emotional over a random call— or, if he can manage, a surprise visit. seungkwan teeters the line of making fun/taking care, though he often does start with an exasperated kind of joking. ultimately, he'll never be able to resist the urge to make sure you're okay. (think: the famous instance of seungkwan taking care of a drunk wonwoo.) he'll dish out all his jokes before going to find you and make sure you're all good.

— would take care of you ✩ seungcheol, joshua, seokmin, minghao, vernon.

seungcheol would be the caretaker. the moment he gets those drunk texts, he's already gearing up to take you home. he's the gentle hand at the small of your back, keeping you steady. best believe that he already has everything you need in his car's glove compartment. he loves your drunk texts, sure, but he loves looking after you so much more. vernon's more of a the-day-after type of care. he'll show up at your doorstep with a small smirk, teasing something along the lines of "you went hard again, huh?" but he also has aspirin, gatorade, takeout soup. you name it. he won't mention your sappy drunk texts, though he's also secretly taken screenshots just in case you take it back. joshua, seokmin, and minghao all have that similar instinct to make sure you're okay, no matter how happy they might be to see your cute messages. joshua will indulge your drunken babbles while 'subtly' trying you to care for yourself. if necessary, he'll coax you over video call to drink less, using the most honeyed voice ever to get you to cave. conversely, seokmin will stay up until you get home. he prefers being able to pick you up, sure, but when he can't? he'll battle off his drowsiness and will only crash when he gets that 'i'm home' text. minghao, no matter what time you catch him, will be on his feet at any sign of you having drunk one too many. it's the way he loves, after all— to love is to be burdened, but to not think of it that way.

— would be endeared by you ✩ wonwoo, jihoon, chan.

wonwoo may be a little confused, but he's got the spirit! he'll probably sigh to himself when he sees your drunken rambles. (although, if you squint, there's a hint of a fond smile on his face. a warm gleam in his eyes.) he'll let you have your fun and will occasionally shoot you well-meaning reminders, all the while keeping your words in the back of his mind. jihoon would take your words seriously. he's the kind who believe that alcohol can lower inhibitions, can incite sincerity, so he'll be more than a little overwhelmed with your sheer affection. the mere thought of you wanting to take it back would make his heart lurch. like seokmin, he's the text-me-when-you're-home type, except he stays awake for much longer just contemplating your texts and how they make him feel. and chan will try to tease, will attempt to be like his hyungs— prompting compliments, fishing for praise— but when the words sink in? when he realizes that you actually might mean what you're saying? he's so far gone, it's not even funny. he'd do anything to hear more of it. (preferably in person, which is why he's rushing to where you are asap.)

[yzzart]

Love your Tom blyth fics an unhealthy amount!!! I’m picturing reader and Tom being all lovey dovey at the premiers but playing it off as really good bestfriends UNTIL she goes to kiss him on the cheek and in instinct he turns his head to kiss her on the lips so they just say fuck it and hard launch there and then x

"An unplanned situation."

pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader

summary: a small gesture, with a sweet intention, revealed a promising secret.

word count: 1.359!

notes: i started this request in the morning and only had the opportunity to finish it a few minutes ago, forgive me for that, anon! — i hope you like it and of course, feel free to share ideas with me!

"Y/N, look here!"

Another request, among others, screams and countless flashes, was directed to you; being, theoretically, almost impossible to identify who had demanded your image. — There were so many voices mixing, not to mention the music in the background, but, you tried your best to pay attention to most of the cameras.

However, it wasn't anything you weren't used to; something that has already been normalized in your life.— And during the premiere of The ballad of songbirds and snake it was no different, and it was splendid; simply perfect. — Not to mention, the feeling of gratitude that grew in your chest.

Cameras and cell phones captured your every movement, your poses and the way your perfectly chosen dress was valued and highlighted on your body. — And how it matched the color palette of the film. — Everything was being recorded, at the exact moment, posted and commented on all social networks.

You had the opportunity to meet, talk and take photos with some of the cast. — It was so pleasant, the company and unity that everyone developed during the filming of the film was inexplicable and so adorable; you were grateful to have worked with so many talented people. — There were some people who were absent, until now, in your eyes, but you would definitely meet them again on the carpet.

And, of course, your eyes roamed the decorated room, matching the elements of the film, and crowded in search of a specific person. — It wasn't exaggerated words to say that you were starting to feel uncomfortable because he was missed; and the cameras recorded it. — Silent questions, which would be written, formed in the minds of the presenters and photographers.

Your boyfriend had yet to appear on the red carpet; perhaps he is giving a quick and curious interview or greeting someone. — That's what was going on in your head.

You and Tom had a secret relationship, ever since you met behind the scenes, in front of the world and all the cameras that may exist in it; something that was so risky and at the same time adventurous. — And that, as incredible as it might seem, you knew how to disguise it in front of your fans; even though they gradually became suspicious with comments, interactions and behind-the-scenes photos.

They were either smart or you and Tom were too far over the line. — This question was not important or essential for the moment. — And you considered each other best friends for interviews or responses to comments; you tried your best.

And so, Rachel sent countless screenshots of tweets, which talked about or mentioned the relationship between you and Tom, to you. — It's impossible to deny how funny it was.

Persisting in continuing to look for him and for a few seconds, your eyes meet his blue and so charming irises. — Its shade of blue was a magnificent and beautiful combination; something you would never get tired of admiring. —And there was no other thing, or anyone, that could take his eyes off you.

As if the only thing that mattered at that moment was you. — And everything around him simply disappeared.

"There you are!" — Tom walked towards you, easily as there weren't so many people on the carpet, and an enthusiastic smile forming on his lips; also accompanied by cameras and intense flashes. — "And so beautiful!"

Holding a part of your long and dazzling dress so as not to hinder your steps, you met him, and without wasting any time, hugged him. — A common gesture, and not so different or strange, for the spectators; so, you thought. — Tom's arms went around your waist, holding your protectively for a little while, while your arms positioned themselves around his neck.

Tom's fragrance, which you liked so much, filled your nose; it felt so good, and you felt your eyes weaken, contaminated by it. — And the british man was aware of that.

"You look perfect, always." — The older man distanced himself, just a little, and brought his face closer to your ear, wanting only you to hear. — "The most beautiful woman that has ever crossed my eyes." — The lenses probably captured a reddish pigmentation on your cheeks and it was not part of your makeup.

You placed one of your hands on his chest, and looking directly into his eyes; that shone at you, and it wasn't just because of the influence of the lights in your direction. — Tom's gaze was sincere, and passionate, intensely fascinating you. — He conveyed what he felt most with just his eyes.

And that was one of the facts about him that you were passionate about and recognized very well.

"Oh, shut up!" — Raising your hand and resting it a little away from your mouth, you laughed a little embarrassed and looked back at the cameras; remembering that they remained there and you knew that later you would see your interaction with Tom on some social media.

Again, a thing and situation you were used to.

"Look at that camera!" — A voice mingled among others, which requested the same request, asking you to take some photos together; something that would feed news, fans and press.

At no point, minute or second, did you and Tom remain distant or apart from each other; always a few steps close, hugging each other for photos and certain looks, completely indiscreet. — Even during brief interviews, as Blyth mentioned you or your character's work, you were silently watching. — One of the interviewers even commented on how cute she thought it was.

Tom's hand was on your waist, holding and almost covering you, making a quick caress in a few seconds and one of your hands was still resting on his chest; and you continued, of course, to be the focus of the cameras.

Quickly, with the intention of changing your pose and trying something new and also to take advantage of the fact that Blyth's face was almost close to yours, you decide to place your pigmented lips on his cheeks. — Such a cute and friendly gesture, and so common. —But, automatically and hastily, Tom turned his face away at the same time, without having in mind what you were, in fact, planning. — God, it was a shock; an absurd and completely intense shock.

For the first time that night, in that place and on those cameras, your lips touched Tom's lips. — It was very quick, good and surprising; and that definitely left a cold, freezing air in your belly accompanied by a desperate feeling in your mind. — Rumor has it that smoke was coming out of his head. — It was a peck, a quick and simple kiss.

When you separated, hurriedly, your eyes met Tom's once again; who were a little wide-eyed, expressing surprise. — Looking for something to say or do, just like you. — And you watched his lips curve into an almost smile, as if he was trapping him.

Shouts of enthusiasm and some possible whistles echoed throughout the immense place, along with some looks and expressions of surprise at what had happened. — And some people were worried if they had recorded the exact moment, of course. — Your fans were probably commenting frantically about what happened.

You really didn't know what to do but at no point did you move away from your boyfriend — now, official to the public — and keep your hand on his chest; as if it were, in fact, planned.

"A nice way to reveal it, huh?" — Tom laughed, relaxed and without a feeling of discomfort or uneasiness, he still had his hand on your waist; and he still squeezed you, then leaving you with another caress. — "I think." — He didn't look at the cameras, his orbits focused only on you.

They have always focused on you, regardless of what is actually happening; and that will never change.

"A nice way to reveal." — You repeated your words, but, as an affirmation and certainty; maybe, seeing how relieved Tom was, and not showing some kind of distress, your chest calmed down and you felt safe.

And soon, you and Tom became one of the most talked about topics on social media.

[teamatsumu]

screenshot. (kita shinsuke x reader)

summary: your friend confesses on your behalf. for my valentine’s day event - theme: confessions.

word count: 1161

tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi @sleepyxxhead d @priv-rose @nishayuro @kitas-tapioca @kakashineedstotouchgrass @amisuh @avis-writeshq @samanthaa-leanne @akaashi-todorki @sp1ng @kur0obaby @bleach-your-panties @pinkiipeachiikeen @whippedbel

event masterlist

Many of Kita’s friends and volleyball teammates think he is a stickler for routine. And they are right. But Kita isn’t rigid. He isn’t unchangeable. He accepts a break in routine, takes it in stride, learns from the turning tides and comes back with a smile on his face. Why else would he be the captain of the volleyball team if he didn’t know how to assimilate with rapidly developing circumstances?

Today, he is confronted with another such change. He is staring it right in the face. For a few moments, Kita cannot fathom the sight. How can it be? A red envelope in his locker? Surely, it must not be meant for him.

His next thought is how it got there in the first place. No one besides the volleyball team is allowed in the club room. He is the one who always opens it and he is also the one who locks up every night. Did someone sneak in during practice time?

Nothing else in his locker seems out of place. Just the letter placed delicately on top of the rest of his belongings. Kita finally reaches out for it, tugging on the flap to detach it and pulling out the crisp white paper inside. Kita is halted in his tracks when he realizes that there is no writing on the paper. It’s a print-out. Of a screenshot.

He eyes the text message chain, recognising the small icons on both the sender and receiver’s text bubbles. It’s Suna, his underclassman, and he also recognises you, the manager and his long time best friend.

‘I can’t stand it anymore suna!’

‘then just tell him’

‘u know i cant’

‘thats a u problem’

The next message is long, bordering on a whole paragraph, and Kita’s eyes skim over it. For the first time in a long while, his heart skips.

‘ive known him forever rin. hes such an amazing person and my best friend but he doesn like me that way. if i tell him im just gonna lose him as a friend and id rather we be friends than nothing at all’

The punctuation is atrocious, and the grammar is slightly questionable, but Kita smiles regardless. He carefully folds the paper again, placing it inside the envelope. He closes his locker and continues his evening routine of cleaning up and locking the club room.

Over the next hour as Kita cleans, his thoughts mull over the letter he had just received. The menial nature of the tasks relaxes him, gives him time to mull over this new information. Kita realizes that maybe he isn’t as perceptive as previously thought by his friends.

How can he have not seen that look in your eyes before? Softer than anything and directed only at him, now that he thinks about it. He ponders over your words, the insecurity and negativity behind them. He has never known you to be a negative person. You are endlessly optimistic and full of energy. You are so bright that Kita loves basking in it. He has known you for a very long time, and he is almost affronted that your budding romantic feelings were hidden from him for so long. Especially when Kita has made his courting intentions for you fairly clear.

He has not directly said anything. But he doesn’t think he was ever being discreet. But maybe he has been wrong in his approach. Maybe you hooking your arm with his when you walked to school in the morning, sharing lunches every day, permanently stealing a few of his choice hoodies were all friendly gestures on your part. While Kita has interpreted the gestures as romantic, it seems you have not felt the same heat behind those actions.

Kita has always walked the same route home, sometimes with Aran, sometimes with you, and sometimes on his own. Today he takes the walk alone, but he is not bothered. He has purpose in his mind, the red envelope in his hand, and his feet carry him all the way through the winding streets until he stops at your doorstep.

He smiles at the surprise in your eyes when you receive him at the door. He nearly coos at the fuzzy slippers on your feet, huge and with bunny ears on them, making your feet look twice their usual size. You are so cute. Kita scolds himself lightly, regretting that he had wasted so much time as your friend when maybe he could have spent it with you as his romantic partner. His girlfriend.

It has a nice ring to it, Kita decides.

“Shinsuke?” Your voice breaks his train of thought. The ‘what are you doing here’ is clear in your voice. Your eyes are wide and your face is questioning. There is a tinge of worry on your face, and Kita realizes that showing up unannounced may not have been the best idea. He isn’t sure what is going on in your head, but he quickly tries to quash your worries.

“Everything is fine.” Clear, direct, to the point. It’s Kita being Kita. “I’m here about something I found in my locker while closing up.”

He holds up the red envelope, and when you stare at it in confusion, he proceeds to open it and pull out the white paper. You take it when he offers it to you, unfolding it and reading the letter. If you can call it that.

Kita watches the color drain from your face, notices how the panic overtakes your features as you recognise the conversation printed in front of you. He feels his shoulders slump a little, lamenting the fact that you are truly scared about him finding out. What do you think he will do? Has Kita truly not made his intentions for you clear enough? He cannot help but self loathe in that moment, seeing the state you were in now.

“Shin-”

He doesn’t let you finish.

“If you will allow it, I would like to take you out for dinner this weekend. Will you be free on Saturday?”

You blink once, twice. Your mouth opens and closes. Kita is acutely reminded of a fish. He tries to tamp down his smile.

“R-really?”

He merely nods.

Slowly, life reinjects into your face. You seem to age in reverse before his very eyes. Your grip on the letter crinkles the paper slightly, and Kita reaches out to gently pry it from your hands and smooth it out. He stays quiet as you process his words. He thinks of hugging you, maybe even kissing you. But stops himself. Those are moments he will reserve for after your first date, after he has properly given you the best date of your dreams. So he keeps his eyes on the letter.

“Remind me to thank Suna for this letter.” He comments. “I must say, it’s the strangest confession letter I have ever received.”

There is a pause.

“You’ve received other confession letters?!”

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

when he comes home early

genre: smut, a mix of texting screenshots and written word

word count: 2 screen shots, ~1.1k just a short little drabble

warnings: cnc adjacent? (reader is scared at first), unprotected sex, pet names, chan is called a god (because facts)

channie if you’re reading this (ik you lurk let’s bfr) ik that your birthday is over where you are, but it’s still october 3rd here. it’s like we get to celebrate twice. (like i haven’t been celebrating all week hehe) i can’t believe you were live for four hours. you’re the sweetest human and i hope you had the most amazing birthday. also, don’t read any more of this post or anything else on my blog. pls don’t perceive me. love you byeee 🩷

authors note: this was so out of my comfort zone. i wanted to push myself to write something that i wouldn’t normally. i originally wanted this to be an actual experience for the reader, with a stalker version of chan, but i can’t write that. i just can’t. so i turned my idea into this instead. :) i had to have some form of prior consent, hence the texts lol. that was the only way it was going to work for me. anywhoooo. happy birthday to our channie! 💗💗 thank you for coming along this journey of channie’s birthday celebration with me. <3 i hope it was enjoyable. :) sorry im rambling, here’s the post:

main masterlist • channie’s birthday celebration masterlist

he did come home that night and help you. but not with that particular fantasy. no, he filed that piece of information away in his mind to save it for later. you wouldn’t really be surprised if he came home that night and did it, now would you? so he waited. and waited. and waited some more until he was sure you had forgotten about it.

and that’s what led to this night. he and the kids had been away on tour for a couple months now, leaving you lonely. but chan managed to sneak away a little early. when everyone else was flying home the next morning, he flew out that night. putting him home sooner than you had expected.

he was at the door of your shared apartment, trying to be extra quiet punching in the code. but he couldn’t control the volume of the beeps, the mechanical whirring of the door unlocking and clicking open.

you stirred in your sleep. was that the door opening? you reached for your phone on the bedside table, the light momentarily blinding you. it was the middle of the night. and chan wasn’t supposed to be home for another 12 hours. you listened intently. and after a few moments of not hearing anything, you had decided you imagined it, dreamt it perhaps, too tired to pull yourself out of bed to go check.

and chan waited. in the shadows of the kitchen, he held his breath, waiting for you to stumble groggily into the kitchen and flip on the light. but you didn’t. he heard you turn over in bed, the frame making a loud creaking noise as you did so. he smiled. he carefully toed off his shoes, and placed his backpack gently on the ground, trying his hardest not to make a single sound. he tiptoed down the hall toward your shared bedroom, his eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. luckily the bedroom door was already open and he could see you, laying in bed. you were on your tummy, blanket kicked to the side, your arms under your head. you had on a small tank top, and a pair of underwear, the material clinging to your skin in the warm summer night air. his cock twitched in his pants. he had really missed you these last couple of months, and seeing the swell of your ass, close enough for him to reach out and touch, he was already hard.

you moved in your sleep then, grabbing the pillow closest to you and pulling it snug against your chest, burying your face in the softness. his heart gave a squeeze as he realized you had put one of his tshirts on the pillow, and were cuddling it, breathing in his leftover scent.

he loved you so much. and he couldnt wait any longer.

he carefully took of his clothes, leaving them in a messy pile on the floor. he wrapped his hand around his leaking cock and slowly pumped himself as he watched you. it’s almost like you could sense him in the room. your body moved more, stretching out your muscles, slowly waking up.

you opened your eyes, and blinked a few times to make sure you were seeing things correctly. there was someone in the room with you. you could see his dark outline at the foot of the bed. your eyes widened in fear and before you could react, he was on you.

he climbed on the bed and straddled your bottom half, his cock resting against your ass. panicking, you tried to flip over, to knock him off, but you weren’t quick enough. he placed one large hand in between your shoulder blades and held you down, pressing your body into the mattress. his other hand came to your face, covering your mouth, preventing you from screaming.

and that’s when you smelled him. chan? was that him you were smelling? or the tshirt covered pillow laying next to you? a bracelet on his wrist tickled the skin of your chin as he covered your mouth. the metal was cold against your skin. his chrome hearts bracelet?

he leaned down, his lips close to your skin and he confirmed your suspicions. “god i fucking missed you.” he growled into your ear.

goosebumps erupted over your body as he bit your neck, sure to leave a bruise. his hand released your mouth and came down to pull your underwear off. they made it halfway down your thighs before he gave up, deciding that was good enough. his long fingers went straight for your pussy and he groaned. “so fucking wet baby. did you miss me too?”

your core pulsed with need. “chan..” you breathed.

he spit into his hand, coating his length, before shoving it into you. he gave you very little time to adjust to him before he started rocking his hips, quickly increasing his speed until he was fucking into you, hard. your hands clawed at the sheets as his hand on your back pressed you down harder. his show of strength had your arousal dripping down onto the sheets.

“fucking take it.” he grunted, the sound of his skin slapping against yours filled the room.

you could feel that familiar feeling in your tummy. “fuck- oh god.” you moaned. “ oh my god.”

“not god baby.” he said. “just- fuck.. just me.”

his hand landed a hard smack against your ass, leaving a red print behind. “you— you are a god t-to me.” you stuttered out.

his hand squeezed the flesh of your ass before spanking you again. “i’m a god to you, baby?” he asked. you nodded against the sheets, though you were positive he wouldn’t be able to notice it.

you were so close, your walls fluttering around his cock. “if i’m god, then you’re my angel.” he panted. “are you gonna cum for me angel?”

“yes! fuck yes!” your body shook as your orgasm washed over you, your eyes rolling back as he continued to fuck you through it.

“there you go, baby.” he cooed. “just a little more. fuck- i’m cumming” he groaned before you felt him release inside of you.

he collapsed next to you, his chest heaving and covered in sweat. his head turned to look at you. your eyes were closed, exhausted. “are you okay?” he asked. “that wasn’t too much, was it?”

you smiled. “no, channie. i loved it.” you lifted yourself up on your elbows and kissed him softly. “welcome home by the way.” you giggled.

he stroked your cheek, brushed your hair out of you eyes, and kissed you again before saying “i missed you so much.”

🏷️: @httpdwaekki (i’m so sorry i forgot to add the tags yesterday! i was in a rush to post this before my therapy appointment 😅)

♡ pls reblog if you liked it! it truly helps a lot and makes me smile :) ♡

©hyunjins-orange-slice-too i do not give permission for this work or any of my work to be translated, copied, or reposted.

[withwritersblock]

More Hearts Than Mine-Her Father Comes to Visit

~More Hearts Than Mine by Ingrid Andress~ Author's Note: I adore this series with all my heart Summary: Her father visits Luke unexpectedly Warnings: None? Word Count: 1,692

It has been far too long since he has gotten his haircut, as he has been traveling tirelessly. He’s been everywhere but Jersey since April. It wasn’t his intention, it was pretty much how his summer plans ended up being.

But here he was standing in the bathroom staring at the nearly shaven sides of his hair. He was constantly battling with what haircut he preferred but he liked the way it looked right now. He was flying to Las Vegas tomorrow for the NHL Awards. He was mainly going to support Quinn, already holding the knowledge that he wasn’t going to win the Calder. Especially since Connor was going to win no matter who else was named a finalist. It was still could to feel recognized. 

He ran his hand across his chin, feeling small stray pieces of hair that he needed to trim off of his face. He sighed as he began to pull out the razor and his shaving cream. The doorbell rang as he furrowed his eyebrows harshly. 

He wasn’t expecting any company, neither was Y/N. She wasn’t even home. She was at work for another hour. He cautiously placed his razor back onto the bathroom counter before he cautiously walked through the pristine apartment. He had spent all morning cleaning before he went and got his hair chopped off.

He walked towards the door, hesitantly gazing through the peep hole to see Y/N’s father standing outside the door. He quickly pulled his head back, his eyes widening. Suddenly, he could hear his heartbeating rapidly as a wave of nausea flowed through his body. Pressing his lips together, he took a deep breath as he carefully pulled the door open.

Luke smiled a tight lip smile as he swallowed hard, “Y/N’s not here, she’s at work for another hour,” Luke choked out as he stepped to the side, opening the door a bit wider.

“Good, I came to see you,” he mumbled as he walked inside, without asking. Luke delicately shut the door behind her father as he nervously fiddled with the handle as he watched him look at every inch of the apartment he could see. “You didn’t add many decorations,” he observed.

Luke dropped his head as he took a small step towards the center of the apartment where he was standing. “I just had some photos that I framed,” Luke let out shyly, “And like clothes and stuff,” he continued, but he wasn’t sure why the words were leaving his lips. Her father nodded slowly as he continued looking around the apartment.

He took a few steps towards the new collection of photos of Luke and Y/N. He walked up to it, getting a good look of every single one.

The first one her father looked at was a mirror selfie. She held the phone, a wide genuine smile on her lips. He had a hold of her face, his hand held her chin and jaw in place as he passionately kissed her cheek.

The second one was a photo of Luke laying on her chest, his eyes looking up towards her, puppy dog like. She was smiling sleepily as she met his gaze. It was a FaceTime screenshot that her sister took while they were FaceTiming several months ago. The live photo of that moment is Luke’s lockscreen. Every time he misses her he looks down towards his phone and holds his thumb down against the screen and watches the short four second moment.

The third photo was a photo of Y/N and Luke standing beside one another holding the overflowing vases of roses. Luke was smiling a genuine wide toothy grin as she was crying tears of joy. She’s spent their whole time together admiring those roses, but seeing them bunch together had her sobbing.

The fourth and final photo was a photo of them together after Luke’s final game as a rookie. They didn’t win the game but Luke still had a wide smile on his lips as he looked down towards her. His hand was low on her waist as she was pulled tightly towards him.

“She smiles a lot around you,” her father let out finally after what felt like many unbearably long seconds. “It’s been years since I’ve seen her smile like that.” He soon spun around to meet Luke’s gaze, unsure of what to say next he points towards the couch. Luke nods as the pair awkwardly sits on the opposite ends of the couch.

“I’m stubborn,” her father continued, he took a deep breath as he crossed his arms over his chest. “You two living together is like I’m losing my daughter. I mean clearly I’ve already lost her long time ago if I can’t remember the last time she’s smiled like that,” He said as he pointed towards the photos on the wall besides the TV. 

Luke chewed his lip for a moment before he sat up straighter as he rested his hands onto his knees. “Y/N’s my first girlfriend. I was always so focused on hockey and trying to beat the best that I never wanted a relationship. But then I met Y/N and I will swear by this until forever that the world literally got brighter when she smiled at me,” he expressed, a soft chuckle leaving his throat. 

Her father laughed as a smile formed to his lips, “I said that in my vows,” his father let out shocked at his own words.

“Actually?” Luke forced out. Her father nodded as he took in a sharp breath. Luke tilted his head back as he clenched his jaw nervously. “I’m terrified that us living together has ruined your relationship with Y/N. I know how important it is to her that you like her boyfriends.”

“You’re the first one that’s made her happy. I knew that the second I saw you two walk into my house. I liked you from that moment. I don’t like that you’re a professional athlete, but I see that for eighty-two games you kept your promise that you told my daughter at the beginning of the season,” her father said as he pointed towards the vases of flowers. 

“She told you about that?” Luke asked. Her father nodded.

“I needed time to mourn that my daughter isn’t a little girl anymore. She’s happy and in love and I can’t stop that. I can’t stop her from growing up. So I got mad, I do that sometimes, I got mad at you guys. But you make her happy so I can’t be mad anymore. Which is why I needed to talk to you first,” her father expressed. He slowly stood up from the couch, holding out his hand. Luke quickly followed in pursuit as he shook her father’s hand. 

The apartment door was pushed open as an excited Y/N walked inside, “Lukey Love, I got done with work early, so I brought you some-” she stopped short as she rested the two pizza boxes on the counter, “Dad?” she asked softly. 

“Hey sweetheart, why doesn’t Luke have more decorations, it’s his apartment too,” her father said as he walked towards her. He stared towards her dad suspiciously as she shifted her gaze towards Luke. Luke simply shrugged as he excitedly jogged past her father and Y/N towards the pizza. 

“He didn’t bring anything, not my fault,” she mumbled with a grin as she excitedly wrapped her arms around her fathers neck as he hugged her. “So-so you’re okay with this?” she asked as she glanced towards Luke who was already half way done with the slice he had grabbed. 

“I want you happy, he makes you happy right?” he asked, eyeing Luke. 

“So happy, Dad,” she mumbled as she glanced towards him, nudging him slightly. 

“Sorry, starving. There’s enough for you too, Mr. Y/L/N,” he expressed as he lifted the cardboard of the pizza box again. Her father chuckled.

“Better grab a slice before this kid eats it all,” he joked as he took one. Y/N blinked away the happy tears forming in her eyes as she watched her father and Luke interact. 

~~~

She sat on the bed, the blanket covering her lower frame as she clicked through the collection of movies on Hulu. She sighed as she watched Luke walk into their bedroom, black sweatpants low on his frame as he ran his fingers through his damp curly hair. She shifted her gaze towards him, her cheeks heating up as she scanned his shirtless frame. 

His lips curled up in a small smirk as he stood beside her at the bed. “You okay?” he asked barely above a whisper as he ran his hand across her jawline. He forced her gaze towards him. She smiled as she met his gaze. 

“I’m happy,” she mumbled. He smiled as he leaned towards her, delicately kissing her lips. He pulled away for a moment before he pecked her lips once more. “I love you,” she whispered. 

He hummed happily as he climbed over her body as he plopped down beside her. “I love you more,” he whispered as he slowly climbed under the comforter. She clicked a random movie before she cuddled into Luke. Resting her head onto his bare chest, she could hear his heartbeat. Slow and content. “When your dad showed up earlier, I thought he was going to beat my ass,”

She chuckled softly as she ran her fingertip along his chest, drawing small circles. “He can’t hurt a fly,” she teased.

“Tell that to my head, still hurts from the panic attack I went through,” he said half joking. She lifted her head up, looking down towards him. She lifted her hand up as she caressed his cheek slowly. “God, you’re beautiful,” he mumbled as he scanned her features. Lifting his hand up, he took a hold of her neck, her hair cascading over his hand. 

“I was just thinking the same thing about you,” she muttered, a teasing grin on her lips. “My pretty boy,” she whispered before she leaned towards him, kissing him softly.

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Imagines: Birthday Boy

————————————————————————-

Summary: December 10th, Joe’s 27th birthday spent with you and your twin boys.

Warnings: Fluff, *he's not injured!!*

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine universe: Into The Mystic

————————————————————————-

December 10th, 2023

Joe had awoken in bed by himself this morning to his surprise. He had expected you, his wife, to be waking him with smooches all over his face but your side of the bed was empty.

He rolled over to grab his phone off his nightstand when the setup sitting on it made him smile. Every year since you and Joe got together in high school when you guys were 16 and 17, on Joe’s birthday you'd get him white roses. The number of them would be the age he was turning that day. There they were, 27 white roses in a vase.

Realizing there was a card and a gift bag propped up next to it, Joe leaned up in bed and picked up the card first.

Happy Birthday, Joey!

Gosh, how are you 27?! You're getting old babe. JKJK. I just wanted to tell you that I’m so happy to share another birthday with you, this is the 11th one that we've celebrated together and I hope I've made every year better than the last. 26 was such a year for you, and I'm proud to say I was by your side for all of it. Cheers to another year of getting to show you how much I love you. You're my husband, my rock, my happiness, my high school sweetheart, and most importantly my best friend. I love you more than words can explain, Joey Shiesty.

To my nerdy, quirky, antisocial, video game, Kid Cudi-obsessed boy, Happy 27th birthday.

Love, your y/n.

Joe didn't realize tears were streaming down his cheeks till he put the card down and saw a wet spot on the blanket on his lap. He quickly composed himself and grabbed the gift bag.

Pulling the contents out of the bag, he felt his eyes well up again when he realized it was a photo album.

It was white leather and on the front in gold font, it simply read “Us.”

Joe flipped to the first page and it had a song lyric quoted.

“When they wanna see how true love should be, they'll just look at us.”

Flipping the page again, it was a collage of pictures of you and him as high school lovebirds. A picture of him picking you up after a win while you were in your cheer uniform, one of you two sitting next to each other at lunch just smiling from ear to ear, you and him sitting in the back of one of his friend's truck while at a drive-in movie, a pic of you two at senior prom, and finally one of you guys graduating.

Joe flipped the page and wasn't at all surprised to see it was the Ohio State era of his life. Since Joe was a year older than you, you were stuck in Athens still when Joe was a freshman at OSU. Long distance sucked, but you guys made it work, and multiple pictures were showcasing that. You took screenshots of you and Joe's face timing that he had never seen before. There was a lovesick look in his eye that made Joe giggle knowing he's still just as infatuated with you. His favorite picture was the one of him lying on top of you in his dorm bed, you were running your fingers through his mullet as you cuddled him.

The LSU page made Joe’s heart warm, so many pictures of you standing to the side and smiling at him just so proud of everything he had accomplished during his time there. There was one slightly spicy photo that made Joe do a double take. That was the first photo you had ever sent him with the intention of turning him on. While Joe was out doing something with the team after winning the national championship you put nothing on but his letterman jacket and the “Big Dick Joe” that he had.

The next few pages only made Joe smile get bigger.

In order it was him getting drafted, the 2022 AFC Championship win + engagement, the wedding, finding out I was pregnant, the gender reveal, the boy's arrival, and everything in between.

When the last few pages were empty for more memories Joe shut the book and put it off to the side. He again had to compose himself and wipe his eyes after the emotional walk through memory lane, you guys had been through so much together and Joe couldn't a picture his life without you.

Joe was about to text you but as soon as he went to grab his phone you were walking into the bedroom. Truthfully you had been downstairs listening to him secretly through the baby monitor you had put up in the bedroom. You had heard him wrestle around in the sheets before sniffles were heard. After it went quiet for a bit you went upstairs and watched him through the cracked bedroom door as he wiped his eyes.

You walked towards the bed with a stack of pumpkin-flavored pancakes topped with candles singing Happy Birthday as Joe wore a huge grin.

After you were finished singing, Joe blew out the candles and you placed the plate on his lap.

“G’morning, Joey. Happy Birthday, my love. - you

He pulled you into a hug and squeezed you so tight.

“I love you so much, y/n.” - Joe

You rubbed his back and kissed him after you pulled away, his arms still around your waist.

“What did you wish for when you blew out your candles?” - you

“Can't tell you, you know it wouldn't come true if I did.” - Joe

“You're no fun.” - you

“I'm just kidding, baby. I actually didn't make a wish.” - joe

“What why? Did I not give you enough time to? I'm sor-” - you

“No. You gave me plenty of time. I just don't have anything to wish for. I have everything I could ever want or need so there's no need for me to wish for something. I have a beautiful amazing wife, perfect twin boys, a good career…” - Joe

You stared at him dumbfounded, wondering how you were ever able to bag this sweet man.

“You’re gonna make me cry.” - you sniffled

“C’mere.” - Joe opened his arms to you

Immediately in his embrace, Joe held the back of your head and kissed your temple.

“I've already cried twice.” - Joe giggled

“Awe Joey. Okay enough sappy stuff, you eat your birthday breakfast while I go clean the kitchen up.” - you pulled away from him and headed for the door when he stopped you

“Wait don't go! I'll help you clean later, can you stay with me right now?” - Joe

You smiled sweetly at him before waking back over to the bed and getting under the covers with him.

Joe turned on Spongebob and ate his pancakes, a few minutes in you heard little feet in the hallway before knocks on the door could be heard.

“Mommy? Daddy?” - Tyson

“You can come in, Ty!” - Joe

The twins happily opened the door and toddled over to the bed. You lifted them onto the bed and they sat with their backs against the footboard.

Tyson giggled as he jokingly got his hand under the covers and tickled Joe’s foot. Joe played along with it for a little bit, loving the sound of his son’s laugh before he started fighting back.

“Do you boys remember what today is?” - you

“Uhm… no momma.” - Miles

“It's someone's birthday!” - you

Tyson and Miles looked at each other for a second before they gasped at the same time and yelled out the answer in unison.

“Daddy’s!” - The twins yelled

“Mhm! Remember what you guys made yesterday?” - you

The boys nodded and you instructed them to go retrieve what they made from their room.

Joe gave you a skeptical raised eyebrow look, but you just leaned in and kissed him while you still had the chance.

It wasn't long till you could hear those little feet again and Tyson and Miles were running back into the bedroom. They handed Joe a few pieces of paper after he put his empty plate on his nightstand.

Tyson drew a picture of him, his daddy, and his uncles passing football at the practice fields.

Miles drew a picture of him and Joe playing with Hot Wheels tracks.

The drawings had Joe feeling a different form of bliss, his heart warmed to an insane level as he looked at the little details in his boys’ drawings.

“I love them, boys. Thank you.” - Joe croaked

“You welcome!” - Tyson beamed

“Dada? You sad?” - Miles

“No, Daddy’s really happy.” - Joe

“But you cryin'…” - Miles

“He’s crying happy tears buddy, really happy tears.” - Joe

“Oh… okay!” - Miles

“You guys should go play. Mommy and Daddy are gonna clean up before Gramps and Grammy come.” - you

When the boys left the room you turned to Joe who was still crying. You softly kissed his cheek and wiped his tears off of his cheeks.

“You okay, baby?” - you

“Never been better. This is the best feeling.” - Joe

“Good. They worked hard on those. Come follow me downstairs. I have something cool to show you.” - you

“You gonna give me my 27 birthday spankings? Or is that later?” - joe

You laughed as you pulled him out of bed and shoved him into the closet, asking without words for him to put clothes on since he was only in boxers.

He returned in sweatpants and a T-shirt and followed you downstairs.

“Is the cool thing you have to show me a sink full of dishes? Or do I have to unload the dishwasher?” - Joe

“You’re exempt from those chores today since you are the birthday boy. But no, I’m giving you one of your gifts now.” - you

Joe smiled and I told him to close his eyes as we started walking into the kitchen. He did as you said and you took his hands in yours to guide him to where the setup on the counter was. You smiled at the secret camera you had recording and dropped Joe’s hands.

Telling him to open his eyes, Joe looked around rather confused but when he looked down at the counter his eyes went as wide as saucers.

There was a positive Clearblue test next to the same onesie you showed Joe when you found out you were pregnant with the twins.

You watched Joe’s eyes start to water as his chin started quivering, causing your own eyes to get misty as you smiled at him.

“You’re pregnant?” - Joe grinned

“Mhm.” - you smiled as tears dripped down your face

Immediately his arms were around you, lifting you and spinning you around as he cried into your neck.

“We’re having another baby!” - Joe cried

When he put you down, Joe picked up the pregnancy test with shaky hands and fell against the counter with his head buried in his arms. He was so overcome with emotion.

“Are you happy?” - you rubbed his back

Joe stood up abruptly and nodded vigorously.

“I've never been so happy. What if we have a girl, y/n? I could be a girl dad.” - Joe cried again

“Oh baby.” - you pulled him into your arms

Joe hugged you so tight but was now trying not to put pressure on your stomach now that he was aware his baby was in there.

“I love you so much, y/n. You and our family are the best things to have ever happened to me. I can't believe we're having another baby.” - Joe

“I love you and our babies so much. I can't believe it either, I'm so excited.” - you

“How long have you known? Well about the baby?” - Joe

“Not too long, found out a couple of days ago and thought I'd wait till today.” - you

Joe nodded and leaned down to be level with your stomach. It hasn't gotten bigger yet but Joe didn't care, his baby was still in there.

“Hey, baby. It's your daddy. Me and your momma already love you so much. We can't wait to meet you.” - Joe

“I have an ultrasound next week. Think you can go?” - you

“For sure. I'll make it happen.” - Joe

The rest of the day Joe couldn't keep his hands off of you, always making sure you weren't farther than arm's length away from him.

Robin asked what was up later at dinner when you rejected your usual favorite wine that she and Jimmy had brought.

You and Joe were ecstatic to tell his parents about Baby Burrow #3 coming next fall and they were just as happy finding out about their next grandkid.

That night after dinner, dessert (pumpkin pie of course), and putting the boys to sleep, Joe and I were lying in bed talking about everything baby.

“y/n, you know, I've only been 27 for a day but I feel like it's going to be the best year yet.” - Joe

“You think so?” - you

“I know so because I’m gonna spend it with you, our boys, and baby Burrow.” - Joe

You had a strange feeling that Joe was right, but also an overwhelming feeling of love washed over you. How'd you get so lucky with Joe?

————————————————————————-

Authors note: happy bday Joey B!

there was a birthday imagine request in my messages so here you go!

hope you enjoyed! 💕

[enkvyu]

"good morning."

"what."

your breath condenses as you exhale in soften shock, the presence of your boyfriend waiting by your bedroom door at a time when the moon still shone simply perplexing to you. gojo smiles, kindly, patiently, as you sniffle and force the gears in your head to turn.

finally, you shuffle up and sit upright in bed. "what are you doing here?" you croak, throat protesting from the lack of use.

"i came as fast as i could when you told me you were sick."

"it's almost three in the morning."

"that's why i said good morning."

your body takes a screenshot.

gojo laughs in a single breath and pushes himself off the doorframe, untucking his hands from behind his back.

he isn't in his usual jujutsu uniform you realise, as he steps into a spot where the moonlight shines through your window and spills onto the carpet. instead of his uniform, he's wearing a tight black shirt that's riddled with cuts and it's styled with an outrageous amount of scars on his face.

you can't help it, worry forces you up.

gojo catches you in his arms as you attempt to get out of bed, the rush of motion causing your head to spin but you don't care, you couldn't possibly. you trace a scar by his lips with your thumb.

"what happened to you?"

his lips quirk upward and you catch the movement with the tip of your finger. "do you think i look tougher with the scars?"

"what do i think? are you serious? you look like you’re on your deathbed, what happened?" your voice rises and he shushes you gently.

"okay, okay, i'm sorry. don't be mad, please?"

"why are you covered in scars?" you say instead.

"i got into a fight."

there's another scar across his cheek and you trace it. "with who?"

gojo tilts his head towards your hand so that your palm ends up caressing his cheek. "no one important especially because, you know, he's dead now."

"and you're definitely okay?"

he nods into your hand. "i think the one who isn't okay, is you."

you sniffle. "i took medicine already, i'll be fine. but you, god gojo, where do i even start?"

"you can start by getting over your fever."

your boyfriend tries to wiggle out of your hold but you only clench tighter, intent on keeping him close by. "are you sure you're okay?"

the smile he gives you is pure sweetness. he leans forward to kiss your cheek and you feel his grin even then. "of course. i’m more than okay, you’ll never guess who i just won against."

there's still doubt in your gaze when he pulls back and he laughs, breath hitting your face.

"i already went and got checked up by a doctor that i really trust." he adds.

it’s hard to not believe him when he looks at you like this, so you relent, sitting back. “shouldn't you be sleeping and resting up, then?”

gojo takes something out from the bag you didn't know he had been carrying, and places it on your bedside table. "shouldn't you? how could i sleep well knowing you were probably suffocating from all that snot in your nose?"

you scrunch up your face and glance quickly at the pile of used tissues on the table that he had to brush aside. "i was just about to blow my nose actually." your argue sounds weak even to your own ears.

he hums like he believes you. "right. and when was the last time you took any fever medication?"

"i think i went to bed at around eight?"

he tsks. "you're long overdue for something."

you recall his earlier words. “so, who was the guy you just beat?”

his eyes glint in the light. “guess.”

you groan. “i don’t know, was it the guy you were talking about a few weeks ago?”

“sukuna?”

“why are you asking me like i know?”

gojo makes a face at you. “but yeah, it was him. i beat him real good too.”

you’ve never really believed in gojo’s outlandish tales, of scary monsters and magic people, but sometimes your boyfriend will come home with injuries just as mindboggling, and you must admit you’d believe him a little then.

still, you can’t hide the taunting smile that passes through. “yeah babe, you really showed him.”

he sticks out his tongue and unpacks the bag he brought.

you watch as he walks in and out your room, holding nothing in his hands one second and appearing with a thermos later. he pours steaming water into a mug and places that down next to the bottle of medicine. it's the liquid type, and you wonder if it became a habit to buy it over tablets and pills, from raising megumi and tsukimi.

"babe, i don't want you to stay up just for me." your blocked nose causes the b's to come out as m's. “especially if you’re injured.”

"i'm your boyfriend, this is what i'm meant to do." he says. “and i’m fine, seriously.”

"i'm pretty sure this is a job for my parents, not you."

"i'm trying to be romantic." gojo sighs, measuring out the bright red liquid into a medicine cup. "but of course, you have to be incredibly snarky, even more so now that you're sick."

you rub your nose. "careful, i'm extremely emotional right now. you could easily make me cry."

he spares you a quick glance. "you'll live. here, take this."

gojo hands you the medicine cup and nudges forward the mug of warm water. looking up, he eyes you expectantly.

you meet his gaze hesitantly. "does this... taste gross?"

there's a silence until gojo starts laughing. "are you a child? i don't even think you could taste it even if you tried."

"i'm literally a patient, don't laugh at me."

"just drink the syrup."

"in shoujo mangas, isn't this when you're meant to be nicer to me?" you mumble underneath your breath, though he catches it anyway.

in the silence that ensues, you begin mentally prepping yourself for the unnaturally sweet taste of raspberry medicine, the kind that has always reminded you of childhood sickness. back then, you were lucky to have your family hovering over you with a wet towel and a warm hand.

just as you go in for a sip, gojo suddenly speaks.

"want me to make this more shoujo-esque, then?"

you blink at him. "huh?" you ask intelligently.

under the moon, you can barely make out the soft smirk on his face and the look in his eyes that you know all too well. it's a feature of his from when the two of you were still in highschool, and though this kind of cheekiness has faded away with time, you still recognise it.

it's the look he gives you when he's up to nothing good.

something in the air changes, and your fever can’t completely explain the sudden heat.

gojo leans over, carefully taking the cup from your hands. making eye contact, he tips the red liquid into his mouth, careful not to spill any. you gape at him, captured in his gaze, as he lifts your chin with a finger and presses his lips on yours.

he swallows the gasp that tumbles out from your mouth, flooding your senses with raspberry, though not the kind that reminds you of sickness. you can only think of his hand that creeps up to cup your cheek, the other tucking hair away from your face. he coaxes your mouth open with his tongue and forces you to drink.

when you’ve gulped it all down, his hands leave your side. he tries to lean away but you follow after, deepening the kiss.

gojo's fingers curl into your bedsheets and you feel his weight dip into the mattress as as he uses his knee to lean forward. you feel yourself fall backwards but he catches the small of your back with a hand and a chuckle.

eventually, he pulls away for air and though you need it just as bad, your lips trail after his.

eyes meet and spark in the dim lit room.

"was that still gross?" he asks, and it takes you a while to realise he was talking about the taste of the medicine.

you swipe your tongue against your bottom lip to relive the flavour, and his eyes follow the motion.

"no." you murmur. "actually, i don't remember. why don't we do it again so i can find out?"

gojo grins, using the hand on your back to press you against him, the other resting on the wall behind you. "only once more."

just like he promised, his lips fall back on yours and you sigh into the contact.

the night ends in raspberry sweetness, but not the kind that is unpleasant.

if you saw this somewhere else, no you didn't <3

[section-chief-prentiss]

girls

Summary: After an UnSub threatens to out you, you come out to Emily. 

Word Count: 2269

TWs: threats of being outed, coming out

Ao3

This whole case had you on edge.

It was a local case, and normally, that fact brought you comfort. Sleeping in your own bed after a long day was exactly what you needed. 

You got home late and beelined for your bed. If you were lucky, you could squeeze in a few hours before you needed to be back at the BAU in the morning. 

You started stripping as soon as your door was closed and locked behind you, shedding clothes on your way to your room. You threw on the first oversized t-shirt your hands touched and rolled into bed, your mattress welcoming you into its warm embrace. 

You plugged your phone into the charger on your nightstand and set your alarm, cringing at how soon you would need to be awake. But before you could lock your phone, a text rolled in from an Unknown Number. 

Stop investigating or I’ll tell your team you’re gay. 

Your blood froze in your veins. The UnSub your team was chasing was technologically savvy and had proven he wasn’t afraid to use it. Through various social media accounts and other media leaks, he’d flaunted the victims he’d kidnapped and killed, and so far, Penelope had been unable to track him. 

You debated the odds of this being a random spam text when another appeared.

If you arrest me I have a failsafe that will alert them right away. 

You knew better than to respond, but you knew you couldn’t block him until Penelope took a look at the message.

The thought stopped you in your tracks—if you showed Penelope these messages, the team would find out anyway. 

It wasn’t that you were ashamed of your sexuality; your family knew—you came out to them when you were 12. Your mom and your brother were your biggest cheerleaders, and while it took your dad a little longer to come around, he was firmly in your corner now as well. Your friends were no different. 

But work was another story. You loved your BAU family and trusted them with your life, but you’d only been with the team for a year. And you weren’t in a relationship at the moment, so your dating life just… hadn’t come up. You’d always known you’d tell them eventually, but you wanted it to be on your terms. 

Despite the threat, you had no intention of stopping investigating or encouraging your team to do the same. 

But the nagging voice at the back of your head that it could all come crashing down at any moment left you with a lingering feeling of dread that kept you awake, tossing and turning until your alarm went off just before sunrise.

You stumbled through your morning routine like a zombie, moving aimlessly from room to room. You made coffee on autopilot, dressed in a daze, and didn’t realize you had two different shoes on until you were one step out the door. You swapped one out for a matching set, grabbed your bag, and headed to the BAU.

You wished you could shake it off. Pretend it didn’t bother you. But as you took your seat at the round table, you knew the carefully crafted facade you’d put up was already chipping away, and it was only a matter of time before your team saw through it. 

“You look like hell,” Rossi said, taking the seat next to you. “Did you sleep at all?” 

“Not really,” you hedged, taking another swig of your coffee. 

Tara and Luke filed in next, and you absentmindedly exchanged morning pleasantries with them, glancing at your watch and wondering what was taking the rest of the team so long.

Emily, JJ, Reid, and Penelope buzzed into the room together, and the energy they brought with them made you sit up a little straighter.

“Our UnSub has made his next move,” Emily announced. She stood at the front of the room, pulling something up on the screen behind her, while the rest of the team took their seats. 

Screenshots of texts filled the TV, and a hush fell over the room as everyone took them in. 

Stop investigating or I’ll tell the press about your addiction, one read.

Stop investigating or I’ll tell the media about your pathetic sister, read another.

With a click of the remote, two more messages appeared, with familiar text that sent a shiver down your spine.

If you arrest me I have a failsafe that will alert them right away. 

You glanced at the timestamps of the messages, fighting to keep your expression neutral. You’d stared at the messages you received long enough to know they came at 2:41 AM. These messages had been sent just a few minutes before.

“JJ and Reid received these texts last night; we assume they’re from our UnSub,” Emily announced. “Before we start today, I need to ask if anyone else received a message last night. You don’t have to reveal what it said; JJ and Reid gave me permission to share theirs, but I need to know if he’s targeting anyone else.”

The team glanced around the table at each other, shaking their heads. When Emily’s eyes met yours, you found yourself shaking yours as well before you could think about it. 

“These threats say more about the UnSub than about us,” JJ said. “He thinks these are threats, but they just prove we’re human. It wouldn’t change how people perceive us, and even if it did, I wouldn’t care.” 

You’d turned to Reid, skeptical. “Is that how you feel?”

To your surprise, he only shrugged. “I’m proud of my sobriety. Last year alone, 17.82% of Americans had a substance use disorder. It’s more prevalent than anyone wants to believe.”

Your heart swelled at their bravery. But the text message you’d received still hung over your head.

“Penelope is working with JJ and Reid’s phones to see if she can trace the messages back. If anyone else receives anything, please let me know right away. In the meantime, Luke and Rossi are going to head down to Metro P.D. to interview more of the victims’ families,” Emily said. “Tara and Y/N, the M.E. is expecting you; she has the latest autopsy results. JJ and Reid are going to stay here with me, and we’re going to work on the profile.”

The team dispersed, but you felt glued to your chair. 

“Are you okay?” Tara whispered.

You nodded. “I just need a minute. I’ll meet you in the bullpen?” 

Tara put a hand on your shoulder before doing just that. 

When your legs stopped shaking, you stood and glanced through the windows at the rest of your team. Emily made eye contact with you through the glass, and you tilted your head toward her office. The raven-haired woman nodded, and you both wordlessly made your way over.

You beat her to it and started pacing across the carpeted floor. You kept your hands clasped so Emily wouldn’t see they were shaking. 

The Unit Chief closed her office door behind her. 

“Is everything okay?” she asked, sitting on the edge of her desk. 

You opened your mouth, but no words came out. You closed it again, mind reeling. 

Were you really about to do this? This hadn’t been your plan when you walked into work this morning, but you knew it was the right thing. 

Despite that, your heart raced in your chest. Stars danced across your vision, and your breathing became shallow. 

This wasn’t fair. You cracked your knuckles, a nervous habit, but your hands shook as you did so. 

Tears threatened to spill over, so you turned away from your friend, sitting on the small couch on the opposite side of the room. You pressed your palms against your eyes, willing the emotion to go away. 

“Not now,” you whispered. “Please not now.” 

The couch shifted as Emily took a seat next to you. She placed a gentle hand on your back.

“Take your time,” she murmured.

You pulled your hands away from your eyes and clasped them in your lap. 

“I got a text from the UnSub last night too,” you said, voice raspy. 

Emily moved her hand from your back to resting on your knee. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.” 

You nodded. You knew you could trust Emily—trust your whole team. None of them would judge you or think lesser of you, of that you were sure. But your heart still felt like it was going to burst out of your chest. 

“He threatened to out me to all of you. And said that if we apprehended him, he had a failsafe in place to make sure everyone found out.” 

Emily’s face crumpled. “Y/N…”

“It’s not that I’m ashamed of who I am,” you whispered. “I’m not. My family knows, my friends know… It’s just that it’s private. I wanted to tell you all on my terms, when I felt ready. And he took that choice away from me.” 

Emily took your trembling hands in hers, and tears welled in your eyes. 

“I love you, Y/N,” Emily said with a sincerity that stilled you. “We all do. You are our family, and I can say with full confidence that this doesn’t change how we feel about you.”

You took a deep breath. “I knew it wouldn’t. I just wanted to control how I told at least one person. How I told you.” 

“Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me,” Emily said. “I can’t tell you how honored I am.” 

“I know we have to tell Penelope,” you said. “So she can try to trace it.” 

Emily shook her head. “We can wait. See if she can get anything from JJ and Reid’s phones; we may not need yours.” 

You grimaced. You didn’t want to hinder the investigation or ask Emily to do the same by keeping this to yourselves. 

“That means a lot to me,” you said earnestly. “But I can’t ask you to do that.” 

“You’re not asking; I’m offering.” Emily’s dark eyes pierced yours. “Just tell me what you want to do.”

“Will you come with me to talk to Penelope? I’d feel better having you there.” 

“Whatever you need,” she assured you. “Is it okay if I give you a hug?” 

You nodded, and it wasn’t until Emily’s arms were around you that you realized how badly you needed some comfort. You sank into her embrace, resting your chin on her shoulder, letting your friend hold you.

She rubbed one hand in circles on your back, and you closed your eyes, the exhaustion of the case catching up with you. You could fall asleep right now. Now that you were safe. 

But there was still work to do, so you pulled away, your cheeks flushed. 

“Thank you,” you said.

You wiped your tears away, suddenly self-conscious when you remembered the rest of your team was just outside. 

As if anticipating your hesitation, Emily asked, “Would it be easier if I brought her in here?”

It was tempting, but you didn’t want to call more attention to yourself.

“No, that’s okay,” you said. “Let’s go to her office.”

Emily didn’t stand until you did, but once you did, she was ready to hold her office door open for you. 

As you walked through the bullpen, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at your teammates. You heard them murmuring—working on the profile, you told yourself—but you held your breath until you were out of sight and knocking on Pen’s door.

“Enter!” She chirped from the other side.

You scanned your badge and the door clicked open, revealing Penelope in front of her wall of monitors—the text messages up on one, another busy tracking the source. 

“Do you have a minute, Pen?” Emily asked.

Penelope whirled around in her chair. “Anything for you, Peaches.” Her eyes widened when she saw you standing beside Emily. “And Y/N! To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

“I got a text from the UnSub,” you said, your phone in hand. 

“Have you gotten anything from JJ’s or Reid’s yet?” Emily asked.

Penelope frowned and shook her head. “Not yet; the UnSub is flexing his tech knowledge, but I am better, and I will find him.”

You smiled at your friend’s easy confidence. 

“Can I see?” she asked.

You nodded, wordlessly unlocking the device and handing it over.

You watched as Pen scanned the message. Watched as her mouth opened in shock. When her eyes reconnected with yours, there was fury behind them. 

“I will bury him,” she growled. “How dare he—”

Emily held up a hand. “Needless to say, discretion is important here.” 

Penelope’s eyes widened. “Oh, Y/N, I know I’m not known for secret-keeping, but I would never…” she shook her head. “I’ll never tell a soul.” 

Your heart swelled. “Thank you, Pen. I will tell the team, I’d just prefer to do it on my terms.” 

“Of course,” Penelope said.

“I can take your place with Tara,” Emily offered. “If you want to stay here and work on the profile with Reid and JJ.” 

You shook your head. “That’s not necessary. But thank you.” You looked between Emily and Pen. “Thank you both.” 

“Let’s go make this son of a bitch pay.”

Tag List:

@yena-reyna, @propertyofemilyprentiss, @chaekhan, @obsessedwjill, @mrs-prentiss, @i-lovefandom, @tireddeadgirl, @lez-talk1, @emilyprentiss-ily, @ssablackbird

Join my tag list!

[edenfenixblogs]

hey, gentile here. just came across this post of yours and, first of all- it's SUPERB. it showed me a perspective on being a jewish ally that i really wouldn't ever have considered by myself, made me more confident in my choice to put combating jew-hatred above the friendships I've recently lost, and gave me a really useful direction on where to go as an ally to jewish people onwards. that being said, there's a few details about it I'd like to press you about, if it's not too much trouble.

this point is probably worthy of an eyeroll as i'm a culturally christian atheist (making a concious effort to not be *that* kind of atheist), but: when you refer to G-d as the creator of all things, you stress that that includes evil- but that, in so doing, G-d is not evil themself. now, I'm asking this with the express purpose of you correcting me, so: why does this G-d- as a G-d fundamentally distinct from the Christian conception of God as a Super-Mega-Ultra-Perfect God Who Can Do No Wrong Ever- create evil? i, personally, have been led to believe by @/spacelazarwolf that it is simply because G-d, too, makes mistakes just like any human being, but the way you worded it in this paragraph (which I've included as a screenshot below) had me interpret G-d creating evil as a concious, intentional action. did i just not read it correctly? and, if i didn't, then is the reason G-d creates evil part of this central struggle you went in detail into in the same paragraph, and as such, a very individual part of Jewish belief that no two jews agree on? and if that is so, would you be comfortable with sharing your version of it?

a few paragraphs after that one, you dedicated many words to make it absolutely crystal clear that, in the process of unlearning and combating jew-hatred in the society around me, i should, in spite of the vitriol that they propagate, love the former friends i lost to antisemitism. how- and *why* should i love the people who, on an early october 8th morning, actively celebrated the news of a massacre of Israeli civilians? who mocked- and still mock- the survivors and the families of hostages? who wield the memory of the holocaust as a baton against Jewish people's right to self defense? who deify terror groups who are up to their necks in atrocities? who make an active effort to spit on the face of *reality?* How could i possibly look at the face of a friend who chose allegiance to a terrorist group she did not even know existed four months ago over me- who she had actively interacted with for much longer?

would you rather we called ourselves "gentiles" or "goyim?" I've been calling myself a gentile for the longest time because i see jamming a word from a language i don't speak at all in an otherwise english sentence to be disrespectful and constitute appropriation, but you and other jumblr blogs have given me the impression that that is not the case. furthermore- i believe it was @/bambahalva who pointed out the usage of the word "gentile" in antisemitic segregation policies.

that is all- i hope this message finds you well. oh, yeah one more thing- what do you think of The Forward news network? i came across them by chance and next thing i knew I'd gotten into their newsletter.

WARNING: I HAVE FINISHED WRITING THIS AND IT'S LONGER THAN I EXPECTED AND ALSO MORE JEWISH THAN I EXPECTED LOL! I have done the most Jewish possible thing I could do and answered all of your questions with questions. I'm sorrryyyyyy! This is what happens when you grow up surrounded by rabbis and future rabbis! LMAOO

Oooh! What a good ask! I love this ask. OK, so! Let's go in order.

First of all, thank you so much for your kind words. And thanking you for backing your words with the action of prioritizing kindness over hatred. It matters. More than I can ever explain. Thank you.

You know, it's funny. People ask me a lot of questions about i/p that they think will have simple and straightforward answers that just don't. And I end up writing a lot of essays because of this. The questions you wrote me seem like they should be complex, but feel relatively straightforward to me.

Now, to your first bullet point: I don't know. I truly do not know. I think that G-d is fundamentally just...G-d, and in so being, G-d is truly unknowable to me. I think many Jews have many different interpretations on why G-d creates evil. I'm no rabbi, but one of my BFFs is and so is her mother and great grandfather. That doesn't give me any kind of authority. It just means I've spent a lot of time thinking about theological questions like this. As for my perspective, I'm a progressive/reform Jew, not a humanistic Jew. I do actually believe in G-d, but I vibe with the community philosophies of Humanistic Judaism a lot. So that's the perspective I'm coming from here:

I'm not a particular fan of the Book of Job, because I think it gets twisted and interpreted in Christian ways more than most Hebrew books and it can too easily be twisted into a "Don't question G-d, because G-d is perfect" narrative that I find to be fundamentally at odds with how I practice Judaism. Also, it's just a very sad story about how a good and kind man lost everything, and it makes me sad to think about. HOWEVER, that traditional "Don't question G-d" narrative is not how I learned to think about that book. The way I learned it, I believe the Book of Job describes this issue most explicitly. After Job loses everything he holds dear and talks to all his friends and begs again and again "Why? Why did G-d do this to me? Why would G-d do this to me when I'm a good person?" And basically G-d hears everyone answering for G-d with various reasons, "Maybe you were bad." "Maybe you should make an offering" Maybe this. Maybe that. And eventually G-d responds from within a storm (paraphrased of course) 'Why the fuck do you think it's your business to know? I made the whole universe! I made everything you see. I made the world that gave you your family in your first place. Why do you think you get to question my motives?'

The way I always interpreted that is: I don't fricking know! It's not really my business. What am I gonna do? Stop G-d? How does my knowing why G-d creates evil help anything? It doesn't mean we don't question G-d. It means we should instead focus on what we CAN control. I can't make 10/7/2023 not happen any more than I could stop The Holocaust or form an ocean. That's divine business, not human business. What I CAN do is make the world better now. What use is it challenging things that we cannot change? Things that are in the past? What's the point of asking why bad things happen when we can instead focus on stopping more bad things from happening. G-d named us his people when Abraham fought with G-d to stop the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. Abraham repeatedly asked, "But are you sure? But what if there are 100 good people? 50 good people? 10 good people?" And G-d kept responding, basically, 'I mean, there aren't. I know this cuz of how I'm G-d and know all the things. But knock yourself out looking.' My interpretation of this was that G-d doesn't get mad when we do our utmost to help our fellow human beings. G-d gets mad when we waste our energy that we could be using to help our fellow man to instead be angry and rage futilely against the past. I say this as someone with PTSD as someone who attempted to stop a tragedy from occuring and failed and can never understand why. What informs my trauma and what makes it so hard to get past isn't that G-d allowed it to happen. It's that people did. It's that I begged for help before it happened--over and over and over to dozens of adults in various positions of authority in order to prevent this terrible thing from happening (no, I will not now or ever disclose what that thing is). And all the people who could have helped failed me, and now two people are dead. Because someone did an evil, evil thing. And a bunch of other people let it happen. I'm not mad at G-d. I'm mad at people. And yet, I also know that hating people and finding reasons to dismiss them and despise them is what leads to more tragedies like that happening. So, despite my rage, truly the only thing to do is to love people. It's the only that helps. It's the only thing that repairs the world. It's the only thing that we can control. So, in short, my answer to "Why does G-d create evil?" is "Why should I spend my valuable time on earth trying to answer that question when, instead, I can spend that same exact amount of time asking millions of people, 'How can I help? What's wrong, and how can I help make any part of it better?'?" We don't need to understand G-d to make the world a better place. I'm fine leaving G-d stuff to G-d and spending my time on the human stuff.

Now, your second bullet point. Love their souls. You don't have to love what they've done. But they are human beings, as are we all. I think this can also easily be twisted into the Christian framework of "Hate the sin, love the sinner," but that's not what I mean at all. People's evil deeds are a part of them. They need to take responsibility. There is no divine absolution for crimes that people do unto each other in Judaism. If you harm a person, G-d cannot forgive you for that. Only the person or people you harmed can forgive you. And to a certain degree, we are all defined by our actions toward others. And so, no. I do not forgive the terrorists who woke up and decided to kill a bunch of Israelis and Israeli-adjacent humans. I do not forgive those who celebrate the deaths of Israelis because of some misguided sense of justice. I do not forgive the people who continue to send me hatred and death threats day after day after day after day. And I do not love the parts of them that did and do those horrible, unforgivable things. But my goodness. They were babies once. They either had parents who love(d) them, which is so sad, because they have this life of love and they chose instead to fill it with so much hate. Or they didn't have any parents or loved ones or anyone to guide them and, my goodness. That is so sad. How terrifying and alone that must feel. Maybe they have friends and family who love them and are instead wasting their precious time on this planet directing their energy at raging against me and 15 million other Jews they've never met. Or maybe they don't have anyone who loves them and they think that hating me and harming me will bring them some sense of purpose and joy. What a horrid way to live.

My Grandpa died last year. I have a wonderful family for whom I'm very grateful, and I even have good memories with my Grandpa. But he was not a good person. He came from an abusive home, and weaponized that abuse on his loved ones until he drove them all away. He was a narcissist. Not in the pop psychology sense. But in the actual clinical sense. He ruined every relationship that ever mattered to him--personal and professional. And in the end, because of his own actions, he died alone. He had pushed everyone so far (often with legal threats and action) that when he died, he laid on a slab for weeks because nobody could figure out who to call, because he had no one left. (For reference, Jewish burials are supposed to happen rather quickly and two weeks is...not good.) He was the only person in his generation who was not born in Israel--my family on his side has lived in Israel since looooong before even the British Mandate and he was the only person in his family born and raised in the US. As far as we can tell, the family on that side has been in Israel for as long as Jews have existed. He was religious. And while I've never been to Israel or met any of my family there, he did go. And he kept in touch with his relatives there before driving them away too. He was a wealthy man, but convinced himself that everyone only wanted him for his money and then decided to horde it instead. He left nothing to his children or to me. He left all his money in an endowment to his university--a place that uses that money to fund anti-Israel organizations now. He died alone, without his family that lived nearby, and with a legacy that will now cause active harm to the family that lived far away. He could have died surrounded by the loved ones from around the world who wanted nothing more than to be near him and loved by him. His story is a tragedy. The story of every person who chooses hatred over love is a tragedy. The story of someone who woke up and chose to murder others or to delight in the death of others is a tragedy. I love the soul in the center of these people. I loved my grandfather. I could not be around him. I cannot forgive some of the things he said and did. But I love the person he could have been. I love the part of him that gave me some good memories. I love the family he gave to me.

No, we do not all need to love or forgive those who have wronged us or terrorized us or murdered our loved ones. But that is different from mourning a human soul. From loving the potential of a human soul to do good in the world, and mourning the loss of that soul and its potential. Every human being--every single one no matter what they have done in their lives--has the potential to create goodness and make the world a better place. Every moment of every single day is a new chance to meet that challenge and do our best. Sure, not all of us have it in us to try our best every single moment. Sometimes life is hard and we're sad and tired and hungry and angry. And that's ok, because we have tomorrow, and an hour from now, and a minute from now. But the moment someone chooses to take action and decides that action should be to cause another harm or celebrate the harm that was caused? That's a tragedy. And when a life is extinguished, that is a life that loses its potential to try again and do better. We shouldn't love people because we deem them worthy of love. We should love people because they are people. And so are we. And how wonderful is that? I could choose to hate them. It would be so easy! But why should I do that? What do I gain? What do they gain? And isn't it so wonderful that I chose to love instead? And isn't it so wonderful that you can, too?

As for your final bullet point: I have no preference. I say goyim cuz it's easier for me. Goy/gentile/non-Jew are all fine to me. I have some icky feelings about the word gentile for a variety of linguistic reasons I won't bore you with. But some other people don't like when non-Jews appropriate Yiddish words. Others (including me) find it wonderful when non-Jews call themselves goyim. All my closest non-Jewish people call themselves goyim, including my sister! Non-jew is the most neutral in English and least likely to offend anyone. But it still separates Jews as an other whereas "goy" is a way to distinguishing yourself from Jews while also being an acknowledgment of our culture. As far as I'm concerned as long as a goy is being a goy (ally, positive) rather than a goy (derogatory) I don't mind that they call themselves goyim. LOL! Idk, friend. Do what makes you happy! What do you prefer?!

Regarding The Forward news network: They are a reliable Left-Center source with a high credibility and reporting rating and only one failed fact check in the past five years for which they issued a correction. I would consider them a reliable source. They cover legitimate issues of people who support Palestinan self-determination ostensibly being punished for their stances. They publish Op-eds critical of Netanyahu, who is terrible. And they address how antisemitism is harming diaspora Jews. They seem to consistently emphasize the humanity of everyone, which you can tell based on the rest of my post is very important to me, but they also avoid over-editorializing on news that is not in the Op-Ed section. I'll never endorse any source as perfect or guaranteed to be free of problems or harm or bad takes, but they do seem to make a genuine effort to be factual, clear, and wholly truthful. Note: I highly recommend that everyone installs the Media Bias/Fact Check extension on their web browsers. Get in the habit of checking and evaluating sources critically. It's a skill that will serve you your whole life.

@clawdia-houyhnhnm I hope this helps. And thank you for your thoughtful ask and commitment to intercultural understanding. <3

[oristian]

Hello there!

I have this screenshot and I want to know your thoughts on it.

Do you think that this could possibly happen or not? (Even though I know you're a elucien and gwynriel fan)

I wrote down my thoughts on it and it's chilling in my drafts until I post in the morning, ha.

I don't believe that Lucien would lie about such a rare occurrence in fae history, no way.

Lucien “I’m a mated male,” Vanserra is the last character to ever be seen as deceptive in this series—especially in a way that would paint him as a villain archetype. Lucien, who lost his eye by spitting back at Amarantha. Lucien, who bowed before Rhys in order to protect Feyre. Lucien, who accepted lashings and near death more than once to help Feyre UTM. Lucien, who gave up his home and friends to both help Feyre and to see his mate. Lucien, who shook at the sound of his name upon Elain’s lips. Lucien, who travelled across the world just because of Elain’s visions.

Lucien may have his faults, but purposefully faking a mating bond to deceive the Inner Circle? Sounds to me like some people lack a clear understanding of how he is as a character—and also the nuances of a mating bond, fated mates trope, and the romantasy subgenre.

I have exhausted this same argument time and time again, but the fact is that, once Feyre unleashed Helion’s Spellcleaving ability in Hybern, any spells/wards/charms would have been dismantled. In the case that Lucien had, somehow, created a fake mating bond in that moment, Feyre would have broken it. On top of that, Feyre has looked into his mind and the reader experienced the pull of the mating bond/mating instincts that Lucien felt in ACOWAR. On top of that, both Elain and Lucien have exhibited mate behavior towards one another/for one another throughout the series.

Azriel and Elain are not mates and that is simply debunked by Elain and Lucien being mates. There is not a single reason why a fake mating bond would need to have been created, especially because SJM changed Lucien’s mate from Nesta to Elain. Had she planned on any sort of fake bonds/rejected bonds, that would have taken place with Lucien and Nesta. Her simply speaking about them in interviews, online, and unprompted is telling enough of her intentions and plans—the same plans she claims has not changed.

I truly want to know what these people believe that Lucien would gain from spying on the Night Court. Who is he giving his intel to? Eris, who already has a front row seat to the Inner Circle? Beron, who has no interest in him? Tamlin, who is a shell of his former self? Koschei, who has more interest in Nesta and Vassa than the Inner Circle?

Allow us to humor them for a moment. Lucien faked a bond with Elain, yet spends the majority of his time in the mortal lands away from her—what intel is he gathering by being away? How did he manage to tug on the bond and have Elain feel the thread around her rib? How did he manage to trick Feyre into seeing his mating instincts when she looked into his mind? The list can go on and on.

tl;dr — The bond between Elain and Lucien is real, has always been real, and they are true mates. Any other argument against any of those canonical facts needs to be taken up with SJM herself.

[wildflowerdoeeyed]

𝑀𝑜𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝒪’𝓈𝒽𝑒𝒶

(the character overlook)

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

these are all my opinions, totally open to the conversation about molly’s character also totally fine with people fact checking me, anyways i’m starting to fw o’shones

in the words of @krayzie-jelli the autism is autisming (don’t cancel me i have referrals to get tested 😔😔)

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

small credit;

the red dead fan wiki

@/reaperqween on tik tok (for the almost ten minute tik tok about mollys outfits which i ate up)

^ her tumblr is @river-of-wine send some love yall want 💕

colour analysis & general observations

🪞💋🍓🌹🍰

colour theory is heavily used based on honor, the best example of this is dutch, he consistently wearing red, mostly on his back until guarma when the red is on the front, when dutch’s true intentions become more apparent, anyways onto molly.

🩰𓈒⋆⑅��₊୨୧

COLTER

(i went quite quick through colter so im actually unsure how she is with dutch, but from what i remember she doted on him a whole ton, constantly staying at his side and at one point saying “dutch is all the company i need”)

💋though a lot of people relate the red in different characters with low honor i think the fabric, the pattern itself points back to her privileged past

💋the necks scarf being green, i feel like it doesn’t imply much at this point but as the game continues it implies way more

💋the rest of the outfit being blue means a lot to me, there’s never anytime molly oversteps or is aggressive to anyone (obviously except from the obvious with karen, i’ll go back to this later)

💋i’d like to note that she’s still doing her makeup freezing and starving in the mountains

🩰𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨୧

HORSESHOE OUTLOOK & CLEMENTS POINT

(i honestly will end up mixing these up so i grouped them together)

(tbh my honest opinion is horseshoe is one of the best chapters based on the relationships in camp (tho sadie’s still going through it, you can’t have everything))

💋her first outfit has a good amount of blue in this outfit, her necklace has its first appearance with the red (i always got the vibe that dutch had gifted it to her as it’s more shiny than a lot of the metal in her outfits and it’s like a part of him)

💋she wears a thick belt with this outfit and the brass (?) seems worn, even coming from a wealthy background she holds onto clothes that look old and worn

💋she always wears white boots, she’s doesn’t have to do any work, and she’s not expected to do anything

💋the majority of the mornings in game, molly is constantly checking herself in a mirror

💋i’m going to be honest i hate this shirt

💋but i’d like to think this shawl has always been with her and that she holds it close to her

💋her outfit is quite shapeless, and i think that’s how she liked to dress personally

💋i would love to talk about this outfit

💋does this eat? yes, but i don’t think this was a honest choice for her

💋this outfit mirror mary-beth’s a lot, who seems to be dutch’s new interest

sorry for the bad quality i used my own screenshot for this

💋this outfit particularly ^

💋there’s now a lot of cleavage in her outfit and she’s dressing more akin to other girls in the camp

💋and the gold in her outfits bright, and with mirroring marybeth, I also think this mirrors dutch’s style, with more red and gold incorporated

🩰𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨୧

💋her relationship with dutch is starting to crumble, i heard a voice line where she says that she loves him and he thanks her (?!) you wouldn’t see me again personally

💋but to contrast that there’s some scenes were dutch kisses her hands and they’re all giddy and cuddly, and they eventually dance when sean’s rescued from blackwater

💋she’s also not well received by a lot of the gang, we get the first glimpse of that when you take mary-beth, tilly and karen to valentiene and karen says that molly’s “too high and mighty” to come with them

💋she attempts a to interact with numerous members

💋she also attempts to talk to tilly, tilly quickly brushes her off as she’s working and molly isn’t attempting to help her

💋i also saw an encounter with dutch and molly where, he approaches, and honestly he could be covered in shit and molly would still look up to him like he’s a messiah. dutch says “should i compare thee to…” he quickly cuts himself off asking her what he should compare her with, even asking arthur if you pass by (he actually says that dutch could compare her to an idiot if she actually believes dutch cares about her)

💋 throughout clements point, dutch talks down to molly as if she’s a child and then will quickly back himself up by calling her dear (to which if arthur intervenes when she goes off at him, dutch says she’s just leaving and she’s stomps away)

💋when she approaches abigail about the subject of dutch, abigail tells her “dutch don’t love you, not in the way you want to be loved”, molly gets defensive saying that she doesn’t get what she’s talking about, to which abigail says she does (implying drunk john?) and molly stomps away

💋i think this is the first time molly actually goes a bit crazy about dutch, she calls him a degenerate liar and stomps off when dutch wont argue back and (i think) goes to sleep, he at least turns away from her

💋i think people who discredit mollys character (men) don’t realise that her and dutch’s relationship show early signs about how manipulative dutch can be, he dumbs down what she says then calls her dear, eventually he only calls her miss o’shea, which she obviously goes off at him for

💋adding onto this i’d love to talk about her character item request of a pocket mirror and her asking arthur if bad lucks a thing, i feel like this is meant to reflect how young she actually is, like how kieran still referred to his parents as ma and pa, and that she genuinely seems nervous asking arthur for a mirror and the superstition of a broken mirror giving bad luck (which i guess you could say she had

💋and i feel like her vanity that the gang and from an outsiders perspective that she’s self absorbed but i think she’s more conscious about how she looks, she doesn’t have to lift a finger and not having much to do around camp because everyone distances themselves from her (i’ll obviously elaborate more when i get to writing about shady bell) i think she’s left alone with a mirror, which i feel is more implied that she’s had for a long time, i’d say since childhood, you become more conscious the more you look at yourself and if your man seemed to be going for someone younger than you, you’d loose it too

(tl:dr - molly doesn’t deserve any hate, the girls that get it, get it, men don’t, im so ready to talk about chapter 4&6)

The poem

-

Uaibhreach

(the irish gaelic word which means “being proud and arrogant to the extent that it alienates & isolates you from those around you, leading to loneliness)

I was a girl - until your call

(i’m not going to annotate this everytime but the religion of this actually makes me feel like my hearts being ripped out)

Commanded me to cross the sea.

(she was driven out of ireland looking for freedom and adventure and she was enthralled by dutch’s charm, to be honest i always saw her “privileged upbringing” being her family owning a big farm, or in a big industry, a lot of irish people immigrated to canada after the potato famine, then crossed to america)

I've nothing left. I gave you all.

(i think she means this in, like, every sense)

My darling Liffey was so small.

Your land and love are vast and free.

(‘MERICA)

I was a girl until your call.

You stood so strong, and dark and tall.

You stole the heartbeat out of me.

I've nothing left. I gave you all.

Your lips enchant, your eyes enthrall,

Your empire is of ecstasy.

I was a girl until your call.

Your parasites and lackeys crawl,

(now do i think this is the gang or her fault that they don’t like her, i think its a mutual thing, they see her as a spoiled woman and she doesn’t help that opinion but i think she’s a young woman manipulated by an older guy, and that she thinks they’re all just jealous (which im sure she even says a few times)

Mocking a love they dare not see.

(going back to when she try’s to seek abigail’s help, or when she confronts karen later on and that she can’t see that he’s really not interested in her)

I've nothing left. I gave you all.

I sit in solitude and scrawl

These wretched words, and wait for thee.

I was a girl until your call.

I've nothing left. I gave you all.

[canonicallyobserving911]

Buck & Eddie: Season 7 - Is that Buck?

The debate over who Eddie’s talking to in this picture has begun but let's take a closer look shall we?

There appears to be some debate over whether that's Buck in the picture with Eddie that TM (showrunner) released at dark o'clock last night/this morning (depending on your time zone) and it's all because of that ugly shirt he's wearing. Well, I took a screenshot of the shirt he wore at the end of 6x18 to test my theory and it was just like I remembered, HIDEOUS!

The shirt debate piqued my curiosity and I researched it to test my theory regarding Buck’s clothes that started in 6A and went into 6B after 6x4, 6x7, 6x11 and 6x18 aired.

Full Disclosure: I had to access 6×18 to get this screenshot but I didn't want to because after Season 6 ended, I said I would never watch any of the episodes that aired after 6x13 again. I haven't, I didn't and I won't but I did fast-forward to the end of it so I wouldn't have to see anyone but Buck and I captured it to show the ugly shirt he wore to the hospital. It's HIDEOUS too.

Why is his shirt important?

Well, it's important because Buck’s wardrobe has drastically changed since season 5.

After I saw the pants he was wearing in 6x4, the shirt he wore at the end of 6x7, the outfit he had on in his coma dream in 6x11 and the shirt he wore at the end of 6x18, I wondered what happened to Buck’s wardrobe. I'm not sure why they keep putting him in these types of clothes, especially since Buck’s ALWAYS cared about his appearance. In the past, his clothes were expensive and they fit him nicely but in Season 6, most of them were ill fitting and a lot of times either his shirts were too little and/or his pants were ankle beaters or they were just not the kind of clothes he would wear.

In 6x4 he was wearing ankle beaters when he went to Hen and Karen's house.

In 6x7 his shirt was too little when he went to go donate his sperm.

In 6x11 he was wearing that awful imitation of Fred's outfit from the Scooby-Doo cartoon.

Initially, I thought the size of Buck’s clothes had something to do with OS's muscular build since he definitely toned up and his muscles were huge at the beginning of Season 6. Then after I remembered how lackluster the season's opening emergency was (the 9 minute long blimp emergency 🙄), I thought maybe the show was low on money or something and they couldn't afford to give the wardrobe department a sufficient budget.

But now I believe there's more to it than that since it APPEARS TO BE INTENTIONAL. I don't know why and I'm not speculating but there's a reason Buck’s not dressing like he used to. It seems like the only time his clothes fit PROPERLY is when he's with Eddie🤪😜.

HELLO PAIR OF GRAY SWEATPANTS HE WORE JUST FOR EDDIE TO SHOW OFF HIS "FIREHOSE".

HELLO RED AND BLACK SUIT HE WORE TO THE POKER GAME.

We know the wardrobe department has the money it takes to properly clothe the main cast because all the other main characters' wardrobes didn't change so what gives?

Anyway, my point is, IIRC, Eddie has never touched Bobby's shoulder like that but he has touched Buck’s (in 3x3). Is that Buck wearing that ugly ass shirt in the picture TM released from Season 7? Probably since he wore one in 6x18 and his clothes have been less than stellar for the last few months but who knows?

What is really happening with Buck’s clothes?

[xxnashiraxx]

With Stars to Fill My Dream (9) - Darkness Helps Us All to Shine

Hi everyone!! Chapter 9 is here! ❤❤

Please forgive me for the lack of Karlach screenshots, I thought I'd have gotten them by now but life has been a little crazy so I haven't been able to fix up my game and mods since Patch 7 released. 💗

Please enjoy and let me know your thoughts!

Summary: A street-smart, musically inclined human girl with a tragic past gets abducted by a nautiloid after her painfully average shift at a retro singing diner. What's worse- putting your all into Olivia Newton-John and Travolta for lousy tips, or getting your guts ripped out by a gnoll? Or worse- getting turned into a hideous humanoid squid? Ofelia Montez will have to see if she can survive long enough to find out.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Mentions of past abuse and trauma. Canon-typical violence and gore.

Word Count: 7,352

Opening under the cut!

Ofelia stares into the flames as she warms her hands, listening to her companions getting ready and packing up for the day before they start to filter out.

She hadn’t slept a wink. She’d been torturing herself over and over with the thought that if she did, she’d find them all standing around her, demanding she leave when she woke up. The idea of going out alone in this world had been enough to wire her nerves and keep her alert, even when the rest of the clearing was as silent as death.

Ofelia pokes at the logs in the fire, watching Wyll cross the camp towards her. She regards him warily, concerned at his intentional approach.

“Morning,” He smiles, sitting beside her. He gives her some room, tension hovering in the air between them. He doesn’t look angry, or distrustful. With his face so open, she almost feels more terrified. Many meetings with case workers had prepared her for the sickly sweet words and body language that preceded her removal from a foster home. Usually through deliberate fault of her own, so she can’t really complain.

“Hi.” She mutters, setting the stick she’d been holding down on a stone to dangle over the flames. Her voice is defensive, measured. It’s been a while since she’s had to use this inflection.

The chill still clings to her and she shrugs the spare blanket up over her shoulders, watching Wyll tap his knee before snapping and searching his pockets. He pulls a small brown package out and unwraps the cloth, revealing a wedge of cheese within. He motions to it, indicating that he’d like to share, and she nods, watching him pull his knife out to cut a piece off and hold it out to her. She takes it carefully, not one to pass on cheese, even if it’s a bit of a placating gift before he brings the hammer down. Once she places the pad of it on her tongue, she hums in approval- it reminds her of sharp cheddar and with a small sting to her eyes she nibbles on the rest.

[evolutionsbedingt]

Did somebody order pain on this lovely Friday?

Have some feelings about the end of Li Lianhua, inspired by a thought I had this morning. Meta-ish ramblings below the cut!

CW: terminal illness and resulting physical disabilities, suicidal ideation, open ending (equivalent with the special episode)

☆☆☆

You are called Li Xiangyi and everyone knows your hair is up in a jaunty ponytail. Simple guans hold it in place, not drawing any attention, not like the red ribbons trailing your every step like the love you inspire across the jianghu. 

You call yourself Li Lianhua and you buy the hairsticks and crowns and ribbons to match. They’re white now, for the grief that follows and forms your path, and hold a bun made of half of your hair. It’s so much easier to comb just half of it and in the weeks where your muscles and joints ache with the icy cold of the yin slowly poisoning your neili, you leave the bun for as long as you can stand it. 

You don’t call yourself by any name anymore, because you don’t remember which name was ever truly yours. You leave everything behind and hope that it too will do you the courtesy of letting you go. There are no more ribbons in your hair, only the bits of leather you use to tie it up. The hairstick you bought in return for all your other accessories is plain and the auntie who sold it to you said it’s as white as the morning sun. And your arms shake too much to keep them up for long, your shoulders protesting the twisting and pulling and holding. 

The first time you do your hair after not-dying again, the hairstick slips from your stiff fingers and your shoulders scream from staying up that long. 

The second time you have to lie down afterwards, short of breath and with the beginnings of a headache exacerbated by the hair dragging on your skull. 

The third time you abandon the bun. Twist the strands only far enough that they hold in something rounded and soft, accept the wisps of hair you can’t ever seem to catch and that tickle your face, and use the hairstick to pin the end of what once was a ponytail up.

You have no name, you have no ribbons, you have only a stolen fur coat and a single piece of white jade. Your bones ache like the waves forever rushing in your ears are dragging you under. And you want to give in to them. So you take paths half-remembered, rely on strangers, kind and unkind alike, to return once again to the eastern shores and, on the edge of one world, you turn your back on the other and sink into the rising sun.

★★★

So. I recently again came across a post pointing out LLH's significantly different styling in the special episode and this morning I realised that his hairstyle may well be a highly stylised version of what may have happened if the yin poison continued to ravage his body.

Apologies for the questionable phone screenshots, but I'm mostly interested in the hairstyle which is nice and visible here.

I used to have that length of hair and let me tell you any sort of complicated hairstyle was absolutely impossible after my shoulder injury and subsequent loss of muscle mass. So it's, to me, entirely plausible that this is a stylised or idealised (possibly because we see him through Fang Duobing’s eyes) version of what might happen if he lost the vision, motor skills and strength to put up his hair into a proper bun (especially without modern, elastic hair ties).

In the fic I wrote it as him only twisting the hair minimally and pinning it up like this on purpose, but I've also had this kind of look when a bun of mine came loose without me noticing (or caring). The wisps likely don't look half as intentional without the Fang Duobing filter and, looking at that hairstick in the first pic, it also looks like it was shoved in rather haphazardly.

In summary: this is Li Lianhua at his weakest (can't do his own hair anymore) and loneliest (doesn't have anybody else to do it for him) and his hairstyle reflects that.

[ukrfeminism]

‘What’s the worst that can happen?” That is what Georgia Harrison asked herself one Sunday morning in August 2020 when Stephen Bear, who lived opposite, invited her over for a cup of tea. They knew each other through the reality television and influencer circuits. She had been on The Only Way Is Essex (Towie) and Love Island; he had done Shipwrecked, Ex on the Beach, then won Celebrity Big Brother. They had hooked up before and he hadn’t treated her well.

“We’d been in lockdown and I was definitely quite lonely, feeling quite rubbish about myself,” says Harrison, 28. “I knew that going to Bear’s was a bad idea – there were two voices in my head. In the end, I thought: what’s the worst that could happen? Well, now we know.”

What happened was this: the morning cup of tea stretched into a long lunch washed down by tequila, followed by drunken sex in Bear’s back garden. The sex was different from how it had been in the past – more performative, with Bear carefully positioning Harrison in various locations. “It was more dramatic and lasted longer,” says Harrison. “I just thought he was having a good day.” Afterwards, to Harrison’s horror, Bear mentioned casually that it might have been caught on his CCTV system. When he showed her the footage and she began to cry (“I’ll die if anyone sees it,” she said), he promised to delete the video. Instead, three months later, Bear posted the footage on his verified Only Fans account. Within days, it was all over the internet, including the website Pornhub. “Georgia Harrison sex tape” had become a top search on Google.

Harrison found out when a fan in the US sent her a screenshot asking: “Have you seen this?” Her reaction was to gag. But she picked herself up and went to the police. Bear was arrested, charged and convicted. In March 2023, he was sentenced to 21 months in prison for voyeurism and sharing private sexual photographs and films with intent to cause distress. Now, she has written a memoir about it, Taking Back My Power.

It is hard to overstate the impact of this case. Most victims of intimate image abuse never report the crime. They are teenagers too terrified of their parents’ reactions, professionals who fear for their careers, parents who don’t want their children or partner to know, or anyone else who can’t face walking into a police station armed with a link to Pornhub. Of those who do come forward, only about 4% will ever see a charge; a prison sentence is rarer still.

Bear’s case – on the news, in headlines, all over social media – sent a message of hope to victims of this sort of abuse and a warning shot to potential perpetrators. There was a 56% rise in calls to the government’s “revenge porn” helpline in the month he was sentenced. Harrison didn’t stop there, though. She lobbied parliament to demand better laws around “revenge porn” and helped to secure amendments to the online safety bill that make the crime easier to prosecute. She is still campaigning for platforms that carry the footage of her and Bear to be held criminally accountable.

It is certainly not the life or career she had in mind when she left school at 16, the only child of a single mother, already intent on reality TV stardom. “I grew up in Essex and a lot of my friends were on Towie, so that’s what I wanted to reach for,” she says. “It was the idea of literally getting paid for doing photoshoots, partying and having some fun in all these mad countries and bars.” At 19, she did get on Towie; a few years later, she was on Love Island. She built a career as an influencer and was able to buy a flat in Essex at 21. Was it all she had hoped for? “Actually, it was even better,” she says.

Although she and Bear were neighbours, Harrison didn’t get to know him until October 2018, when they were cast in The Challenge, an MTV reality show. By then, the former roofer had built a TV reputation as a bit of a player, a “lovable rogue”. They got together during filming, but when the show finished, Bear went back to womanising. Shortly afterwards, they starred in the sequel and got together again. This time, though, Harrison says, he locked her out of their hotel room to sleep with someone else.

The next time Harrison saw Bear was in August 2020, when he invited her over for that cup of tea and secretly filmed them having sex. Afterwards, she felt certain he had planned it. “We’d been in every angle that his CCTV covered,” she says. “He’d made sure we were never outside the lines.” Even so, she didn’t see what lay ahead. “I was really upset and he seemed to understand. I never for a second thought he’d be stupid enough to send it to people. I hoped he had some form of respect for me, but I also thought he wouldn’t want to ruin his entire career or end up in prison. I just didn’t think he was capable of what he was capable of.”

In the days after, Harrison messaged Bear asking him to promise he wouldn’t do anything with the video. He assured her that he had deleted it. It was December when she received the screenshot from a fan in the US. “That’s when I knew it was global,” she says. “One of my first thoughts was: it’s time to tell my family. My mum knew already, but I needed to have the conversations with my dad, my uncle – the male figures, I guess – so they knew it was coming.” In fact, her uncle knew already; he had been sent the video by someone who didn’t realise Harrison was his niece. “They were all horrified, but supportive,” she says. “I was an adult having sex – they told me I’d done nothing to be ashamed of.”

She knew that, but shame still hit in waves. “It went so horrifically viral; my postman’s probably seen it,” she says. “It’s that feeling that I’d let myself down, let my family down, that I should have seen it coming and how could I have been so stupid?” Her influencer work went into freefall. Any post on any product would be flooded with comments about the video (“Congrats hon, you’re a porn star now!”). “There were so many other influencers – same amount of followers, been on Love Island, same calibre – who didn’t have a sex scandal. Why put me next to their brand?” She rented out her flat – for income and because she was terrified of seeing Bear – and moved in with her mum.

“I don’t think I’ve admitted to myself how bad my anxiety was until now,” she says. “I wouldn’t be able to go to the gym on my own, or I’d get in and feel everyone was looking at me and have to leave. I barely left the house and when I did it was really hard not to panic. It got to the point where I only wanted to be around my closest friends.”

For more Guardian journalism follow this channel

Follow the Guardian

Harrison reported Bear, who was arrested in January 2021 and charged four months later. There was an 18-month wait for the trial. Harrison’s life was on hold. She knew she had a strong case – she had been filmed without her knowledge and had sent multiple messages to Bear begging him not to share it – but she dreaded a “not guilty” verdict. The Bear she knew, the Bear who had won Celebrity Big Brother, was a charmer. He could win hearts, talk you round.

“If he was found not guilty, I think I would have had to shave my head and move to Bolivia or something,” she says. “The career I love would have been over – that’s definite. But aside from that, my faith in the universe would have been so shattered. It would have drained all the hope and faith and love and life out of me. To see someone act in such an awful, evil, manipulative way and then walk away … I felt it might just ruin me – and it seemed possible. Bear could play things so brilliantly. I don’t know why he decided not to.”

Bear’s behaviour before and during the trial probably sealed his sentence. He uploaded X-rated videos of him and his girlfriend to the internet, captioning one: “At least she knows I’m filming her.” In another video posted just before the trial, the couple cavorted in orange prison jumpsuits. He ran a Twitter poll on what colour of suit he should wear to court – and turned up in a rented Rolls-Royce, dressed in pink and a huge fur coat, carrying a cane topped with a gold snake’s head. In court, he interrupted the judge and waved away the barrister. He pleaded not guilty, but his defence was nonsensical. At times, he claimed that Harrison wasn’t the woman in the video, or that she didn’t mind it being filmed, or that there was no proof that he had uploaded the images – it might have been his assistant, it could have been a hacker.

Had he pleaded guilty and expressed remorse, he would almost certainly have been handed a community sentence. Harrison still can’t understand it. “The Bear I first met was funny and cheeky, but also really charming – he could be kind,” she says. “That person in court seemed possessed. I feel like every show he went on, he was praised for being ‘the villain’ – and the worse he was, the more attention he got. At some point, the lines blurred. That role took over.” A reality TV monster? “That’s how it seemed.”

Giving evidence was excruciating for Harrison. She sat in the witness box as the jury (nine men, three women) looked through pages and pages of video stills, having to confirm that each one featured her. “I could tell the jury was absolutely cringing,” she says. “I was in a private garden in a private moment that I thought was between me and one other person. To know people have seen it is hard. To see people seeing it while they can see you is harder.

“As someone in the public eye, used to public speaking, it was still hard to get my words out. You don’t know where to look, who to talk to. You feel you’ve done something wrong when you haven’t. I dread to think what it’s like for a vulnerable young woman who isn’t used to addressing a room. I think it would be near enough impossible.” She hopes her case might make it a little easier. “Women come up to me all the time, crying, saying they’ve been through this horrible situation and never spoken to anyone about it before. They message me on a daily basis. Intimate-image abuse happens so much more than people think.”

After the trial, Harrison continued campaigning, initially to make cases easier to prosecute. At present, the sharing of intimate images without consent is not illegal – unless done “with intent to cause distress”, however hard that is to prove. In June, the government announced amendments to the online safety bill that will remove this requirement if the law is passed. This will mean that sharing intimate images without consent, whatever the motive, would become a criminal act.

But Harrison wants more.

“If you go to court for this and get a criminal conviction, that content should become illegal and any platforms that still show it and fail to take it down should become criminally accountable,” she says. “It’s crazy. If someone gets caught with drugs, those drugs are seized and disposed of. Why should this footage stay up there? A change like that isn’t hard to make and it would make a huge difference. Far more victims would come forward, because they’d know it will be possible to make all that footage disappear at the end.”

The video of Harrison and Bear is still out there. “I worry that one day I’ll have kids and it will be accessible to them,” she says. “I just hope that by that time, society may have got on top of this and it will be too risky and expensive for platforms to carry it.” She expects that finding a partner she trusts will take time. “As I get to the point where I am trying to have relationships, I’ve realised that I do have trust issues, but that’s not a bad thing. I’ve been burned so badly. I won’t accept anything that might be a red flag or makes me feel vulnerable. If someone really cares about me, they’ll just have to help me get past that.”

Meanwhile, she is busy again. There is a TV show coming up that she can’t talk about yet. The brands are back. Harrison has written Taking Back My Power. She would like to present daytime TV: “You literally get paid to have a natter!” She is also happy to be known for the court case. “I’ll never, ever lose the stigma of being all over those porn platforms,” she says. “But if I’m known as the person who stood up and fought back – I’d be proud of that.”