#this shit is my life and we are sharing that life.

[magicisrealandsoismyally]

Okay, thought we were being like, chill, but I guess that's a kindness only afforded to people you consider to be women, so I'm gonna break this down piece by piece here, a lot to address.

"purposely obtuse or intellectually dishonest"

right off the bat the fact I disagree with you means I'm being intentionally wrong and evil. There's no room for me to be misguided, or making mistakes, or being uninformed, I'm either playing stupid or lying. Got it.

I "either hate AFABs, or don't take harm against them seriously". Once again, another false dichotomy. I take harm against women incredibly seriously, I just don't think the biggest threat to women is trans women. I think we have the same enemies, conservative men in power. I said you were fueled by fear because I was trying to be nice. It's not just fear. It's anger. Misdirected anger. You, and many others, have decided the easiest thing to do is hate.

Yeah. It is in fact transphobic to demand sex segregated spaces given that a true biological sex isn't fucking real. That's why it's "Assigned male at birth" or "Assigned female at birth". I've been assigned a lot of things throughout my life. So have you. Are you going to tell me those assignments were always accurate? I mean hell, with the amount of cis people out there, their accuracy rate is definitely above 50%. Still not accurate tho.

Transphobia is both the people trying to murder us, and the people, who don't want us in spaces that are away from the people trying to murder us. You are aware that the same cis men wanna kill us both right? You've arbitrarily drawn a line in the sand because you are grossly misunderstanding how trans people work. The number one piece of advice I see on this site from transfems, is how to avoid being SAed. By cis men, by cis women, by trans men. It's so common, that it makes me question if I even want to be in spaces with y'all. You wanna talk about fear? I'm fucking terrified. All the time. The instant I come out to the world, I get to spend the rest of my life, knowing that at any moment, someone says anything negative about me? and my life is over. Because people like you, will believe them. Because the scary transfem must be the person oppressing you. Because its easy, to villainize the minority. And it's easy to decide he's a monster. And all the while, she loses everything just for being an easy target.

You wanna talk physical safety? 83% of genderqueer victims of fatal violence are trans women. People love to kill us.

AMAB privilege is not real. I was not socialized male. I think you have a perspective on how the patriarchy functions that hasn't seen the other side of the fence, so let me go ahead and elaborate on that. Being a Man, is something you can fail out of in the patriarchy. It's a club that is nigh impossible to enter, but really fucking easy to fail out. Under the patriarchy, I am not a man. I failed out of that shit at the age of 8 when I said I didn't like sports. When I did anything "girlie" at all. When I cried. I was a crybaby (according to my family) and a faggot (according to the other kids at school). And from that moment, I was a target. Always have been. I wasn't socialized male, I was socialized as a failed man. Most trans girls are treated that way from a young age. I did not benefit from the patriarchy I was shoved around. I have gotten into an absurd amount of fights that I never started because some fucking asshole decided to beat the shit out of the fag. I spent like a week on tumblr before hearing other shared experiences about this kinda thing. Literally not hard to talk to trans women about this stuff if you, yk, try.

"We don’t need to check genitals I would have no problem with the manliest most masculine most passing trans man in an afab space because no matter what hormones or surgery are involved they cannot rape and impregnate me with their penis the same way an AMAB person could."

How do you know he's trans. How. Tell me right now how you tell the difference between a cis man and a trans man with bottom surgery. Do that without being transphobic, please. Find a way. I'm looking for something hilarious to read today, it's been a long one. Because if you don't have a way, your entire transmisogynistic utopia falls apart here. You can't tell if someone is trans. It's about identity. You cannot tell if someone has a penis. No matter what you do. You cannot tell someone's assigned gender at birth.

And how wonderful, you mentioned prisons, just read about this one. Did you know when transfems are imprisoned they get placed with the most violent cellmates? It's a tactic to reduce prison violence. Give the most violent people their own live in target. They get called prison wives. It's called V-Coding. So yeah, prisons are messed up. For both of us. If only we could talk about that and unite to fix that oh wait that's literally the whole point of having transfems in feminist spaces, crazy how that works.

"Also trans AMAB people commit sex crimes at an even higher rate than cis AMAB people"

WHERE IS THE FUCKING SOURCE. I am tired of TMEs and their constant stream of libel demonizing trans women. All of your nonsense statistics is so fucking stupid. Where are you getting these numbers? The sex offenders list? The one that as recently in the 80s included anyone who crossdressed or hit on a person of the same gender even if they were reciprocating? I literally have heard cis lesbians complain about that shit on this site, you're not even being a feminist by citing sex crimes, you're being a cop. Fucking being trans counted as being a sex criminal for most of American history. Drag queens, trans women, and crossdressers get accused of sex crimes all the fucking time, you have no critical thinking god fucking damn.

"which again did not START segregated they became that way because AMAB people could t be trusted not to rape/assault AFAB ones"

Yeah no lmao, (this next paragraph is going to be USAmerican centric because yk, that's what I learned about growing up) they kicked literally all queer people out when women got the right to vote, both lesbians and bi-women had to fight their way back into these spaces in the decades prior. I feel like we forgot about the Ellen Show or smth? Like feminists did not fucking go to bat for her after she came out. Groups will turn on their supporters the instant they decide they don't need them. Mainstream Feminism turned on people of color and queer people who put their own movements on hold to support the women's right to vote so fucking fast. It's American history too, all I had to do to learn this was have a pulse in my US history class.

Also “capitalism is real because it impacts me in a negative way but all other forms of oppression where I might be considered the privileged one in the dynamic is just hysterical people distracting from capitalism”

Girl, reading comprehension, try it out for size. I did not say these systems of oppression are not real. I'm saying demonization and fear of minorities (like, yk, trans women) is a tool of the existing power systems to make you hate us and not your actual enemy, the people in power (like, yk, rich people who are usually cis white conservative men). You keep bringing up how awful existing systems like prisons are but you just, do not analyze who fucking set those systems up. Private prisons are owned by the rich, not by the trans woman you're yelling at who is 4 bad days away from giving up and killing herself.

If trans AMAB people don’t want to be housed with cis ones, they can do the legwork and create those spaces for themselves like AFAB people did they do NOT have the right to commandeer our movement and literally erase our rights and protections because not allowing AMAB people into these vulnerable spaces might give them the big sad.

Okay so first you tell me feminist spaces weren't originally segregated by sex, and now you tell me it's an AFAB only movement? Because I know for a fact trans people have always been at bat for feminism. American white women said the same shit to women of color between 1920-1965. Cause the instant we become expendable, y'all throw us aside.

commandeer our movement

Really? Do you genuinely think trans women could ever outnumber cis women? What cartoon candyville are you from where there are more trans women than cis women? How the fuck are we going to commandeer the movement? We're like, 0.3% of the population at most. What are you talking about.

YEAH MY GUY IM FORCED TO LIVE LIKE A FUCKING PREY ANIMAL!!!

Okay so for starters, transwomen are also in constant fear. We have literally been hunted, this is just, like, a historical thing. Second, I'm not a guy. Don't call me that. You cannot honestly tell me you're not transphobic and then proceed to use exclusively masc terms to refer to me. That's just wild. Playing along with the tranny does not make you not a trans ally. You're still a transphobe just cause you're fine with trans men.

Some fear is completely rational

Yeah. We're both completely justified in our fear. I do not build my politics off my fear. You do. That's the difference. No matter how terrified I am of TMEs, I still fight for y'all. Always have, always will.

Gender is literally fake and varies from culture to culture. Sex based oppression is real and fucks over the lives of AFAB people worldwide.

Ohh, damn, so close, you'll get it next time I'm sure. See the trick is BOTH OF SEX AND GENDER ARE FAKE. Genderqueer people just admit that it's about self expression. You literally just described how fallible sex assignment is by talking about intersex people, it's like, hella cultural. Sex based oppression is real. So is Gender based oppression. Because people are shitty about fake shit, all the time, we're on tumblr, the "death threats over shipping" website.

You cannot tell me you think you're not transphobic and then claim gender oppression isn't real. I feel bad for any trans people who have the misfortune to interact with you. I hope one day you realize you fought on the wrong side of history. And if not? I hope they speak of you in the same breath as the grown adults trying to stop Ruby Bridges from attending school, in the same breath as the cops at Stonewall. You have an excellent day. I probably won't, but what's new. I'm sorry you're so afraid. I'm sorry you fell for it when they told you who to be afraid of. I'm sorry I couldn't do more. If anyone wants sources on this stuff, i'll add links to posts getting into it, a lot of it's screenshots and i'm not about to make this any longer than it is. There's more ofc, but I can only cite what links I have on hand, y'all can do your own research, read like, any transfem blog while they still exist. https://www.tumblr.com/honeylemony/767694258735136768?source=share https://www.tumblr.com/marxism-transgenderism/767536279224270848/okay-ive-said-before-that-part-of-why https://www.tumblr.com/girldogmystic/766813723287502848/i-wanna-get-more-specific-with-this-according-to

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

[cheyisagirlkisser]

.・College Ellie Headcannons゜・

Note: This is more loser Ellie-centric, I wanna maybe do a part two with just reader and her. Some sexual content and mentons of getting zooted below so 18+ warning!

•Art major, but she’s not the typical hot artsy lesbian you dream of her to be. More like rolls a fat blunt and sketches in her journal, it’ll either turn out to be a masterpiece or look like a crackhead had a go with her paper.

•Speaking of art major, when she’s horny and frustrated because she refuses to hook-up…she draws the lewdest art known to woman-kind. Those are her real masterpieces, but she can’t exactly turn them in for credit in her art class, can she? Fuck, the things that woman can make, though. Lowkey uses her exes naked bodies as inspiration though, maybe kind of weird but who’s gonna stop her?

•Doesn’t eat the food on campus half the time. She is embarrassingly addicted to Tai Pei containers and the occasional microwavable egg-roll. “That shit’s nasty, Ellie! Goddamn, just eat the Tacos 4 Life we have on campus.” Her friends will all tell her, but no. It’s like a guilty pleasure. Maybe it’s cause she grew up lower class and is used to TV dinners, has a special trauma bond to food that should be banned and probably is outside of America.

•Wardrobe consists of band tees, honorable mentions to Gorillaz and Falling in Reverse.

•Is actually an insanely talented writer. After reading her journals I feel like nobody talks about how emotional her entries are and she keeps a journal of her own in college for sure, not only for sketching and organizing art but also to write all her feelings out.

“Fuck me, this is my last year being gay.” -After her and Cat’s break-up, probably.

•Hates coffee. Definitely game-cannon, but this is important to the college setting. It’s the classic Monster or nothing, and she will absolutely judge you for drinking coffee. She calls it “the devil’s dirt.” So dramatic.

•Used to watch bad Hallmark movies because of Dina, now watches them alone because she misses Dina. There’s nothing like crying your eyes out to Christmas Under Wraps!

•Has a collection of rubber ducks on her shelf. Doesn’t use her very small space for normal things like her wallet or books, no. It’s rubber fucking ducks.

•Also has a slipper collection in her tiny closet, from Pikachu all the way to dinosaur feet.

•Has the “two-seater” t-shirt (iykyk) but refuses to wear it in public because she’s a pussy

•Favorite fruit is grapes. I just know my girl loves grapes when she can get her hands on them steer clear bc she will NOT share. Favorite candy is gummy worms!

•Actually wears rain boots when it’s wet outside or snowing

•Likes wired earbuds over airpods, listens to Pearl Jam when she misses living with Joel

•Is oddly good at making those little paper stars and has a huge grocery bag of then in all different patterns and colors

•When she starts dating you she shows you her dinosaur cookie-cutter collection because you're really good at baking. (Also bc she wants to see you in a frilly cute apron!)

•Is a slut for hugs. Kisses are cool, sex is great but agghhh Ellie just loves wrapping her arms around you and sometimes when you two are in her dorm she'll just hug you for what feels like hours on end, she calls it her 'weekly therapy.'

•Loves high sex because when she's sober she hates feeling like she's awkward or all up in her head. She also has a tendency to invite you over for sex after smoking.

•Has a septum piercing. Maybe this one is self-indulgent because I would go ballistic over seeing actual Ellie with one, but I say that college Ellie got hers pierced at 16 and didn't cry over the pain but wanted to literally jump off of a bridge the entire healing process it was so bad.

•Sometimes when you kiss her, her septum will slide over and look uneven and she feels fucking NIGERIA FALLS in her boxers when you fix it for her. Also for those of you who are sluts for glasses, you can fix her glasses too and it'll make her just as weak.

[thesiltverses]

The horror of Eric Carle

Becoming a dad has really been a reminder of all the half-forgotten books that got me interested in horror: the ones that I will definitely share with my kid (The Minpins) and the ones that I probably won't (Not Now, Bernard)

And then there's Eric Carle, and now it's all coming flooding back - the very first time in my life that I experienced terror. Seriously, what the fuck is this?

Carle's most famous book, The Very Hungry Caterpillar, is in its own way uneasy and strange (the caterpillar's voracious and growing hunger is presented ambiguously both as an unavoidable and natural process of change and something greedy and grotesque; the caterpillar appears to devour its own place-of-birth and then feels good about it) but it flies under the radar by being very unCarle-like. The caterpillar is largely tiny and cute, we get plenty of colourful close-ups of tasty-looking food, and there are only two pages and a cover which feature Carle's favourite preoccupation: giant animals with irregular, scissor-cut eyes staring unhappily at the reader as they threaten to grow larger than the page itself.

I genuinely remember feeling deeply unnerved by Carle's first major piece of illustration work, Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?, written with Bill Martin Jr., but only now do I understand why. Holy shit, I have so many questions.

Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What do you see? I see a red bird looking at me.

Why is the rhyme-scheme so frantic and breathless, like it's being chanted out during an escalating ritual somewhere deep in the forests? Why are the animals - textured via collage as if half-carved from wood themselves - staring directly at us, the audience, before then revealing that they're actually looking behind us at something else which is staring back at them in turn? Why do so many of the animals look so fearful and haunted as they acknowledge the vast web of visibility which exists between them?

Why does the 'white dog' page - perhaps the only-genuinely-friendly-looking animal - briefly plunge us into night-time, creating the impression that these creatures are somehow watching each other across spans of time and space, when Carle is fully capable of just drawing an outline around the dog?

Why is the teacher's neck extending like a xenomorph's tongue as she glares with narrowed eyes down at the children (what horrible act have they caught her doing?) Why is the cover of follow-up Polar Bear, Polar Bear, What Do You Hear clearly depicting a Tuunbaq stalking the reader?

What seems remarkable and bizarre is that Carle, a talented artist, deliberately chooses to draw animals for infant readers which are neither cute nor charming but which consistently embody the internet joke about hares - feral wilderness prophets who've glimpsed the truth of the universe and gone mad - and has made a stunningly successful career out of doing so.

Carle's beasts know something terrible that they do not fully understand, and which they are incapable of sharing with us.

I'll avoid the crass temptation to draw serious biographical inferences here (Carle believed he had PTSD from an adolescence spent in Nazi Germany, and his works were inspired by his childhood walks with his father, who returned home psychologically shattered by his own experiences as a Soviet prisoner-of-war) and just say that there is something wonderful, awful and innocent in the fact that perhaps the most popular baby-book artist of all time, when asked to draw a goldfish, would respond with what is clearly a monstrous open-mouthed leviathan rising up from black depths to devour us all.

Look at this horrible fucking thing. It rocks.

[biancadoes1]

You don't need to share this. I just love those people. They know Luke so well. ADHD: the reason for everything.

„Sorry to burst the bubble, but us peeps with ADHD almost always have some kind of oral fixation (I see you, Luke. He smokes too (well...vapes?) and as a fellow ADHD oral fixation babe, I feel the kinship), so we're licking our lips and touching our mouths and all that because we're stimming. Many people have thought I'm flirting when I'm just self soothing with a stimming activity like playing with my tongue piercing or biting my lip. Neurotypical people often have a misunderstanding of how neurodivergant people's body language differs from theirs, since it isn't widespread knowledge. But yeah....he's literally just stimming. Same as when he's touching his lips”

Here’s the thing.

We don’t know Luke. We don’t know for sure if that’s how he stimms.

Unless you know Luke Newton I think it’s really weird to tell other people what he does when he’s stimming.

So unless he tells you that to your face, in person, that he’s stimming when he’s touching his lips and eye fucking Nicola, I don’t care to hear or take this shit in to consideration.

STOP USING ADHD AS A FUCKING EXCUSE FOR LUKE NOT BEING ATTRACTED TO NICOLA.

I’m starting to get really pissed off that something I also struggle with is being used a counter argument for people who can’t accept that these two are likely together.

Shut the fuck up. Stop claiming this man does certain things when you don’t know him in real life. You look fucking stupid.

[natalienomad]

1. Rivaini

2. chaotic good, there with the good morals but damn if it ain't weird as shit to get there

3. Elf and Deathcaller Mage. I figured a Lord of Fortune would be chill with spirit magic.

4. Relaxing at a graveyard in Rivain. Possibly digging up corpses looking for loot, and maybe a companion or two.

5. Oh sarcastic! If you're a necromancer ya gotta have a lil giggles in ya to be around the LoF.

6. Davrin. Hunting down monsters may not be Rooks jam, but petting a cute griffon? And saving griffons? Can't pass that up! Not to mention going on walks with tea that makes ya high sounds like a pleasant evening.

7. Emmy. My lil Richy. He needed someone to understand the spirits like him that wasn't from the Mourn watch. An outside perspective, with equal reverence for the spirits.

8. At first? Lucanis. Until he showed her coffee and rum go well together.

9. Oh no, Isabela thinks we're still too down to earth to really get into the thick of it. That's why she lends us Taash, to really get the fire going under the Veilguard.

10. Shes been known to take a few sticks and bang on rocks for a good time.

11. Staff. Staff Staff Staff. Make thing blow up? Make thing blow up Wayyyyyy over there? Yes please.

12. Asexual, with a Panromantic heart. If things happen, they happen. But the true goal? Is getting a kiss and really feeling it down in her chest.

13. Isnt necessarily evil, nor is it good. Simply a way of balancing the world. You live. You eat. You breathe. You die. ....though she may raise you afterwards.

14. She's a big nature hobbyist. Going out on walks, seeing the wildlife, trying to maintain that balance of life and death.

15. She liked Antoine and Evka right away. And her first hatred was with the Mayor of D'metas crossing. Trading life for gold was silly. You rob graves to get gold and raise them. Give them new life, not condemning them to a branded unlife.

16. Assan may be a good boy, but she's always wanted to have a few druffalo to tag along and help ferry her treasure and new friends.

17. It feels like she got tossed into the life, just by happenstance. She doesn't mind, tho she detests the leadership she has to take on, it weighs on her.

18. More than likely owning said druffalo caravan.

19. At an old age, after continuing our little Manny's training after my dapper guy passes on. One day I'll join him, after they dig his coffin up, and lay us to rest together. Knowing Manfred will become the greatest watcher of them all, a lich all his own.

20. It's a complex stance, she'd aid him in his freeing if the spirits, to take down a tyrant meant to enslave others. But to sacrifice those same spirits like a pawn? She'd feel regret and pity and shame and continue the fight, knowing it was the only way, but knowing this man also had to be toppled.

21. Hard to pick a favorite, she uses a healthy balance of fire, necrotic and ice. But if she had to pick one? The fire beam ulti.

22. Common, Elvhen and Qunari.

23. Ask Manfred to go on a walk.

24. Oh absolutely. Whether the skeletons we raise have a semblance of the original owner or just a spirit accessing the memories who's to say. But we certainly pass on, somewhere.

25. Oh Deathcaller for certain. She'd wish to dabble in Evoker, but being a powerhouse in the back that can wipe a wave of darkspawn out in seconds is a Good Feeling.

26. Herding Dog. Not a war dog. I have a job, and it's helping these nerds figure themselves out and point them in the right direction. And I'm happy to do so.

27. Traipsing along ancient burial grounds mostly. Going into town to sell said goods, share interesting stories I've heard from the spirits in the tombs.

28. Oh Rook is Alllllll too happy to let Isabela take the wheel. Literally and figuratively. The Lords are far more chaotic than Took could handle. She needs a good balance of crazy and semi crazy, and sane to help Her stay sane.

29. Mourn Watch. So I could've snuggled up to this kindly older man quicker! He's such a charmer!

30. Her carefree and loving nature that she expresses to herself and all her friends.

Rook Questionnaire

inspired by @cassieuncaged's BG3 Character Development Questions but for Rook instead!

1: Where in the Thedas is your Rook from?

2: What is your character's alignment?

3: Race and subclass?

4: If your Rook was a companion, where would they be found?

5: What emotion did they usually pick?

6: What companion are you platonically close with?

7: Romantically close with?

8: Who are they suspicious of?

9: Does your Rook get along with their chosen Faction?

10: Are they proficient in playing any instruments?

11: Weapon of choice?

12: What is their orientation?

13: What are their thoughts on killing? Is it a necessary evil or do they enjoy it?

14: What hobbies does your Rook have?

15: What NPCs do they like? Which one's do they dislike?

16: Do they have a favorite creature in the Thedas?

17: Do they enjoy life as an adventurer?

18: What would your Rook be doing if they weren't recruited by Varric?

19: How do you think they'll meet their end?

20: Would they side with Solas or fight him?

21: What is your Rook's favorite ability?

22: What languages is your character fluent in?

23: What do they do after an absolute crisis?

24: Does your character believe in the afterlife?

25: What specialization best represents your Rook?

26: What animal best represents your Rook?

27: What was their life like before the events of Veilguard?

28: Is your character the de facto leader of the party? Or do they consider someone else to be the leader?

29: If you could choose a different faction for your Rook, which one would they have joined and why?

30: What's your favorite thing about your Rook?

[heechwe]

one more night | 𝐦𝐣𝐡

୨୧ pairing: myung jaehyun x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 2.1k ୨୧ genre: smut ୨୧ tags: forbidden romance, friends(?) with benefits, ceo!jaehyun, ceo!reader, spanking, degradation, oral (m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie. ୨୧ synopsis: You tell yourself it will be the last time you commisserate with the enemy every time you leave him. But, like magnets, you always come back to each other in spite of every instinct telling you to walk away. ➸ Request from spider anon via this ask! I hope you love it like I do! Shoutout also to my friends @lovetaroandtaemin and @loserlvrss for beta-reading and dealing with my ass writing this story ilysm 🤍

Any excuse to run across Jaehyun reminds you why you’re such a good liar. Both in life and in business, it’s a good skill to have in order to hold a lot of things together. Jaehyun isn't one to conceal much of anything, though. Maybe that’s why you both can’t stand each other sixty percent of the time, your rigidness the perfect clash with his care-free nature. The guy holds a title you worked for forever while he seemed to earn it with the flick of his wrist. 

Your families didn’t share fuzzy feelings either. Your parents and his on paper seemed to be a match made in heaven, your hotel monopoly the counterpart to a chain of popular restaurants in the city. But it was anything but, unfortunately. The lack of similar business interests and practices as well as their disproportionate dispositions made it a pain to get together every time there was a dinner party or business convention with both of your companies on the ticket.

Like tonight, the expo for the new release of stocks for many companies is another standoff between your respective parties. You have to hold yourself back from sharing any words of encouragement or conversation that paints Jaehyun and his company in a good light without being rude. In truth, you could care less about the hotels right now, flitting your gaze to the ballroom doors to see the one person who drives you insane.

You refuse to admit the red dress you’re wearing is meant to show off your neckline just for him. You did not put on an extra spritz of perfume that he likes to make his head spin. You don’t wish the executives you’re talking with right now would walk away so you could find the man himself.

Of course he saunters in the room when he lingers on your mind, walking past the many gray suits without much care for his late entrance. His three-piece suit exaggerates the lines of his body in a way that irritates you and turns you on in the same breath. He shakes the hands of the stakeholders with a shit-eating grin and glides near you with a hand on the small of your back, determined to shake your resolve without saying a word.

It’s his nature to get under your skin with something as simple as the light graze of his fingertips. He loves to see you flustered until you’re begging and pleading, the actions completely against your normal character. You’ll never bow down to any man or woman in the world to get what you want, but for Jaehyun, he seems to be the only exception to the rule.

Of course, you’ll never admit that, playing it off as simple carnal desire and nothing more. You deny the heat pressing into your body the longer his hand lingers on the back of your dress, his thumb and forefinger playing with the zipper.

He says your name as he toys with your emotions further, the rest of the company around you going back to their casual conversations about trips abroad and business deals. “We need to discuss the merger. We can excuse ourselves for fifteen minutes, don’t you think?”

Sanctimonious prick.

He can barely hold himself together by the time you make it off the elevator together and walk in the direction of the room. He strings you up against the hallway wall, his hand immediately hiking up your skirt and his lips clinging to your neck.

“You love this. You love messing with my head,” he grunts, taking your underwear in his fingers and dragging them down your legs. He could give a shit less if anyone were to leave their room to find the scene playing out in front of them. In his mind, three days has been torture. Any more and he would’ve exploded.

He has to make it known how much pain he has been in, and he has every intention of returning his torment with the same vigor.

“Hyunie,” you whisper, the words about to leave your mouth as hollow as his preservation for your dignity. “Not here.”

“You don’t care,” he responds. The pad of his thumb easily finds your clit under your dress, rubbing circles into the center of your legs without stumbling on his words. “Everyone downstairs could see me fucking you and all that would matter to you is if you got off. And you know it.”

You moan into his mouth when he licks the roof of yours with his tongue. His fingers still dance in the pool at your center, your underwear clenched in his other hand pressed against the wall.

“Please fuck me, Jaehyun,” you beg, tugging on his pants as he continues with his thumb and forefinger bordering the walls of your cunt. The strain of his cock in the fabric is obvious, the outline of it making your mouth water.

He smirks, holding his bottom lip between his teeth. “Not before I feel that beautiful mouth on me, baby.”

By the time Jaehyun slides the keycard against the door mechanism and lets you both inside, you have him pressed to the other side of the door in record time. It takes only another second for the underside of your tongue to meet the tip of his cock. He barely had time to pull his pants down before you were taking him in your mouth, but he loves to see you like this, lust-drunk and impatient.

Just because you’re a good liar doesn’t mean you’re good at practicing delayed gratification.

Sure, you may not like him a good portion of the time. But now, with his hand violently wrapped in your hair, ruining the curls you spent an hour working on so he can fuck your face, you think you may die if you don’t feel him inside of you soon.

You gag around him when the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat. Tears pool in your eyes, but the sound of his moans and the way he slides between your lips is indescribable.

“Fuck, this mouth was made for me, you know that?” He groans, lovingly holding your cheek with the palm that isn’t wrapped in your hair. “My perfect little whore.”

You hum and continue letting him abuse your throat. His body trembles at the endorphins rushing through it, and he hasn’t even come yet.

Jaehyun pulls his cock out of your mouth abruptly, making you whine in confusion. He pulls you up by the hands, a knowing smile plastered across his face. Your knees burn from the friction against the carpet, but the force of his kiss makes you forget any feeling that isn’t pleasurable. The rest doesn’t seem to matter much at the moment; only him and his effects on your being take precedence in your mind.

“Y’know I love coming in your mouth, but I want your pussy more.” He takes you to the bed and motions for you to get on all fours once your dress and high heels are discarded in a corner of the room.

He lands a hard smack against your ass, rubbing the skin as you whimper into the pillows underneath you. “You’re such a bad girl. Acting like you don’t want me, yet you’re hungry to have my cock filling you up every time you see me.” He takes his other hand to press his fingers inside of you. “My little brat, too proud to admit she loves being my little fucktoy, huh?”

You shake your head and stuff your face further into the pillow. You arch your back only for Jaehyun to spank you a second, third, and fourth time. He doesn’t take his fingers out of your heat even as he hits you, but each bout of contact with your ass and his palm is harder than the last.

“Don’t lie to me, baby. You know I hate it when you do that.” A fifth smack meets your ass, and you almost press your whole body flat onto the bed, the pain and pleasure too much to absorb at once.

“I love it, Jaehyun, I do. I love being yours,” you gasp, legs shaking. Your body stretches the coil inside of you tighter, unsure when will be the exact moment you fall apart.

Jaehyun doesn’t make you wonder for too long. “Prove it. Come on my fingers, baby. Let go.”

He presses a kiss to your reddened skin as you come undone, the orgasm ripping through your energy without mercy. Your legs are limp and unable to hold you up any longer when you come back to reality.

That doesn’t mean the devilish man who’s caused you so much satisfaction is done.

“On your back, baby. It’ll make it easier.”

He hooks one leg across his waist, holding it tenderly as he slips inside of you. He groans at the feeling of finally entering you, your walls still drenched from your previous arousal. He doesn’t push you further than necessary though, his pace languid but purposeful.

“You look so beautiful like this,” he moans, his sounds reverberating through the room. Your body is completely at his will, the aftershocks of your orgasm leaving you spent to an unfathomable degree. All that’s left for you to give are weak whimpers of ecstasy. “So fucked out because of me,” he continues, suddenly picking up the pace.

“Are you gonna make me come again, Hyunie?” You ask, eyes half-lidded. Your body is on a slow crawl to a second release. But if Jaehyun has anything to say about it, he’ll make you orgasm before he does, like usual.

He may be full of himself, but he’s a giver.

He runs his thumb into your slick again, drawing swirls into your clit. You cry out at the feeling, him penetrating the deepest parts of you while touching the motherboard to your nerves so effortlessly. Why did he know how to get under your skin and also burn it alive?

With all of your strength, you lift your hips up to meet Jaehyun’s. He grunts as your skin meets his, his thrusts more powerful with your added effort.

“I’m gonna come, baby,” Jaehyun warns, slamming harder into you as his release comes closer to fruition.

“Me too, Hyunie,” you respond to him, the words becoming lilts of air as he pounds into you mercilessly. This orgasm is different from the first one, your body in silent surrender as the pleasure overtakes you. The only physical response you have is your slackened jaw.

“Fucking shit,” Jaehyun curses, your cunt tightening around him beautifully from your release. It pushes him into his own, his seed filling you with mind-blowing warmth.

Some of it spills out of you when you separate, but he plunges it back in with his fingers slowly. He kisses your stomach as you buck up from the sensitivity. “Easy, baby. Don’t want any of it going to waste, do we?”

Like clockwork, your satiated thoughts from pleasure become ones of humor at his ridiculous ways of claiming you for his own.

Your legs are intertwined with Jaehyun’s on the bed, the fuzzy robe you stole from the bathroom covering your body. Jaehyun is sitting up against the headboard, wearing nothing but his briefs. He says nothing but stares intently as he strokes your thigh, your focus on stuffing your face with ice-cream.

Jaehyun went downstairs shortly after he crawled off of you, even apologizing personally for you and giving an excuse of not feeling well enough to stay at the conference. Normally, you would be fine going back downstairs without a second thought. Tonight, however, seems to be different in a way you can’t pin down. Something inside of your heart has shifted, more than you thought possible.

It doesn’t help that he came back upstairs with your favorite desserts. He walked in with a bashful grin, candy and ice-cream littered across the metal tray. “Extra cherries for your sundae, right?”

Now, looking at him, the weight of all the lies you told yourself before seems unnecessary to carry any longer. Would it be so bad to admit he was annoying but also endearing?

You turn from your vanilla ice cream to look at him for the first time in forever. His mouth opens for a spoonful of your dessert, his eyes lit with glee at the prospect of you sharing with him. And you do, your heart too swollen with affection to say no.

This may be uncharted territory, but maybe it’ll be easier if you’re honest. And the truth is simple: the bane of your existence may very well be your perfect match.

@yvnempire @sjylouvre @mini-mews @jayparked @heesuncore @yoursjaeyun @sungbeams @jenoslutie @loserlvrss @pars-ley @lovetaroandtaemin @wonwovy

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊

@kstrucknet @k-films @kvanity-main @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @sayxonet @violetanet @svthub @whipped-kpop-creators

[eddiebabygirldiaz]

wip wednesday

tagged @lemmeaskthedevil @bekkachaos @spotsandsocks

thanks darlins! <3

first edits of post lightning strike texas trip is almost done! yay! so here's one of my favorite parts

The afterglow settles comfortably over them both, thick and slow and golden, Eddie still shaky and unspooled but more centered, grounded, happy.

Then he hears his dad’s voice and it breaks wide open.

“It’s ready!” Ramon calls out, the tell-tale sliding and loud, clonky click of the glass door that leads to the backyard sounding off after him.

“Ah, shit,” Eddie grumbles, sitting up fast enough that he dislodges Buck and throws him to the side.

Buck yelps then starts whining at Eddie and shoving his shoulder. “Jesus, Eds. Relax.”

“Relax?” Eddie squeaks, rolling clumsily off of the bed.

He rights himself and stands up straight with as much dignity as he can manage, hands sticking to his hips in indignation. “My family is downstairs, with the food ready apparently. Fuck.” He scrapes his hands over his face. “They are nosey and impatient enough to come get us. Especially my sister. And here I am with my dick out, covered in your come and you’re fucking Winnie the Pooh-ing it over there.” He waves a hand over Buck, exasperated and hot in a way that isn’t pleasant.

Buck frowns and tilts his head. “Winnie the Pooh-ing it?”

“Forget it. Just–C’mon we gotta get dressed and presentable. Goddammit, can’t believe I’m gonna have to sit with my Abuela and parents after being ridden like an award winning bronco. And Chris too, sweet Christ.”

Buck, the irresponsible and uncaring little shit, just laughs.

Eddie glares at Buck as he gets off the bed, sauntering into Eddie’s space without fear or shame, just as bright and golden as he always is.

He takes Eddie’s face in his hands and kisses him, quick and light. “You definitely weren’t complaining this much a few minutes ago.”

“Yeah, well, a few minutes ago I was balls deep in your ass and having the time of my life.”

Buck snickers, teeth bared in amusement, eyes glinting in a way that softens the anxiety tangling up in Eddie’s gut.

Eddie sighs. “I love you.”

“Mmm.” Buck grins and reaches down to tuck Eddie back into his pants, fingers now nimble as they fasten his belt buckle. “Love you back. Now, help me clean up the come dripping out of me so we can go eat dinner with your family.”

tagging @elvensorceress @shitouttabuck @bigfootsmom @honestlydarkprincess @queerdiazs @lemonzestywrites @try-set-me-on-fire @rewritetheending @sibylsleaves @absolutelybifurious @devirnis @colonoscopys @hippolotamus @dr-shortsighted-owl @shyaudacity @transboybuckley @hotshotsxyz @daffi-990 @exhuastedpigeon @lonelychicago @monsterrae1 @bi-buckrights @wikiangela and anyone else who wants to share!

[grapejuicestyless]

What If I Don’t Know?

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summery: In an alternate universe where the pogues gave up the hunt after their win with El Dorado, Y/n breaks free of the island dream and runs off the college. Only to find that maybe, being away isn’t what she wanted after all.

My boots danced across the thick yellow lines on the deep black pavement. The traffic lights were flickering yellow, reflecting off of the void and rippling across the building puddles by the clogged sewer drains. An intersection at midnight, no dead stop and no definite go. Just the trust that the other cars wouldn’t blow past the warning signs. The trust that metal was made to bend, to rupture to save a life.

I didn’t have a car, I couldn’t afford one, and I never needed one. Everything I ever wanted was always just a few steps away. Laughter used to echo through the halls and cold rings hit the doors repeatedly. You grow used to people that way. Used to the sound of their footsteps, of their breath. You know who’s on the other side of the door always when you memorize the pattern of their movement.

JJ promised me once that we’d make one. We would run our way down to the junkyard and pick out old parts of cars and Frankenstein them together into a piece of shit that would run like a dream.

That was something I missed. The smell of gasoline. Maybe that’s why I stumbled down through the college town, balancing between the thin stripe of black between yellow and twirling in the center where road met road. Maybe I was looking for that bitter smell to remind me of home. The image of JJ bent under the hood of a truck. The same Ford that sat broken in the front yard for years, the sound of metal twisting and the breathy grunts with each violent twist of the wrench. It would run like new one day, he swore. I never doubted him, and I still don’t. One day, we’ll run down to that junkyard, a graveyard for cars, and we’ll find that missing piece.

Rain dripped from the bridge of my nose, falling on my soaked shoes and flattening out my fuzzy socks. Everything up North was colder. Maybe it was because of how bitter people were. The semi-warm summers and the sweltering months of autumn, only for the two week beach bliss to be swiftly replaced with a harsh winter that didn’t let up until the next summer. Cold nipped at my nose. I felt bitter the longer I was here, which was weird because when I was sixteen, I could have sworn this place was home.

Then again, I had never really been anywhere long enough to know what home really was. Everywhere I went became rushed by the sweet adventure that was chasing riches. Maybe it was the idea of settling down that intrigued me. To be sat in one place for a while and to slow down, to increase my chances of living through my twenties without some pirate knocking on my front door, a gun to my head. But this wasn’t home, this wasn’t settling. This was restlessness mixed with a deep urge to find something like home. An emptiness emotionally that I just couldn’t understand.

Like a dog chasing its own tail, I felt stupid, and I myst have looked drunk dancing among the silence of my college town. I should have been happy, this should have been home. I got out, I got what Kiara always dreamed of, I sought out a higher education, a dream that Pope had thrown away. My record was clean and my future had meaning. I should have been ecstatic to receive this opportunity, after all the grief and death and scandals of my childhood, a stage in my life that was stripped away by all the realities that unraveled with each new treasure found. But, I wasn’t. Even then, sick, dirty, and cold, I wasn’t happier than then now.

I don’t recognize myself in the mirror. In the dormitories, in the bathrooms, in the halls. It’s me, or, a version of that girl. She has my hair, and we share the same eyes, same curve of our lips too. But she’s hollowed out, gutted, and so indescribably not me. Different, not greater, but worse. I think of packing my bags quite often. Going quietly and without a fuss. To swallow my pride and withdraw my debt I would surely acquire if I stay any longer here at some institution I knew I couldn’t afford the moment I sent in my letter.

My roommate would be disappointed, but she’d move on. She doesn’t know me, she understands the concept of me, but she doesn’t know me. She’s nice enough, keeps her room clean, which inspires me to do the same. She brushes her hair regularly, almost obsessively, and is really pretty. We get along fine. We are friends, to a degree, but we are sure to find other roommates and never speak again. Still, I wonder if she would be mad if I left without telling her.

JJ was mad when I told him. He didn’t like the idea of abandonment. Though, I promised I would return in just a few months, and then a week after, and a few months later. It would feel like I am forever home, only with short intermissions where he gets to enjoy all the things that the island could offer with the others to hang off of his arm. He didn’t even indulge in that idea. He thought even an hour apart was too much.

I promised him it wasn’t abandonment, and swore to call him every night. I do. Sometimes I call him in the morning, and I almost always call him in the afternoon. I like to hear his voice. It sounds like home, it makes me feel warm. I forget about the redness of my nose and the tingling numbness in my fingers. He sounds like the waves crashing against the shore and the sound of wet spaghetti hitting the walls during dinners at midnight. He is laughter and the summer sun, the swells that ripple in mid July and the best seashells on the beach.

My knees bend beneath me, kneeling against the wet cement beneath me. I feel the wetness soaking through my jeans. It’s cold. Like it could be snow if it were a degree cooler. I kneel in the middle of the intersection, and I look up at the sky. It’s dark. I check my watch, it’s nearly morning again. The yellow light flickers against my skin, illuminating my face and leaving me in pitch black again. Everyone is sleeping in my college town. All is quiet.

My neck stretches out, upwards and I open my mouth. My tongue touches my chin, and I can taste the dirt in the droplets that swallow down my throat. My eyes are closed, because I have nothing to fear but loneliness itself, and whether my eyes are opened or closed, the feeling will still be there, and the fact will be too. I am alone, in this journey. I have nothing friends to lean on and no campfire to light. Nobody here knows about the existence of Kildare, of the marsh, and the restaurants that line the cut. They wouldn’t care, they don’t care about an environment they are not accustomed to. They only have so much space to consume what they need to know. To drink up their studies, they have no space for empty thoughts of a life they never lived.

I have my old phone in my pocket. The keypad is burned into the screen because it’s all I use it for now. My life revolves around nothing but the stress of failure and the relief of my best friend’s voice at the end of the day to ease my stress. The truth is, I understand the void in my passion now better than I did when it first appeared, the black hole that seemed to swallow up all my excitement for the new beginnings. I understand the bitter feelings I have for my new house, because I refuse to call this place home. Home is not a place you reside, though, familiarity breeds contempt, home is a connection to the people who reside in respect of you, who stand by you. So though the people I surround myself with here are perfectly friendly, they are not my friends, and they will never come close to the feeling of home I feel with them.

“Hello?” His voice is thick with sleep. He has that rasp men get early in the morning, a rich deepness I rarely hear anymore, but something I once bathed in with his arms wrapped around me through the night.

Theres a soft rhythmic ticking that comes with the flickers of light, and the soft patters of rain drenching the pavement create solemn acoustics around me.

“Hey, JJ.” It comes out in one breath. A sigh of relief that he even heard the buzzing of his phone in his usual dead-to-the-world like sleep cycle. My fingers slip on my phone case and I have to catch it, the rustling on my end of the line echoing back through the speaks to me. I can hear the playback of my breathing through a short delay that spans over a vast distance.

“Is everything alright? It’s…three in the morning. I don’t know a lot about time zones but, I think we’re both on the east coast.”

“No, it’s the same time zone, Jay.” My cheeks already hurt with how big my smile was. He just had that effect on me. His goofy, unknowing attitude always managed to make me laugh, especially because deep down I knew he was a lot smarter than he led on to be. When he let that mask slip to reveal his true self, it was always a wonder the ideas that spewed from his lips. He had one of the greatest minds I’d ever known, only to be undermined by the tragedy of his last name.

“Is it a crime to miss my best friend?” My eyes found a home on my wet knees, and my free hand began to play around in the water. Dragging my nail through the small puddle forming around my body.

“At this time? Yes.” He chuckled softly. “Somethings up, what are you speculating? Whats the word? Ovulating? Because I can’t help you with that.” He made himself clear, smiling through his sentences.

“What? No! Why would I call you of all people if I was photo-ovulating?” I corrected myself with a laugh.

“Don’t knock it until you try it. I happen to be irresistible.” JJ defended himself with a teasing tone. Our conversation was light like it always was, even though my homesickness ran deep, and the sadness I felt was heavy, he made it feel like even the rain pouring down around the city I lived in was letting up.

“Lord knows John B’s walls are too thin for me to not have some kind of clue.” I snickered, pushing back the wet strands of hair that had fallen down upon my face.

Rain clung to me in every crevice, drenching me completely until I felt nothing but cold wash over me. It was a shower I didn’t need, one that did not cleanse me but instead poisoned me with the reminder that this was reality, I was miles away from the voice that was soothing my hearts ache momentarily. I would mull over it later.

“Nah, you got off on that shit.”

“Don’t be a pig, I’ll hang up.” I threatened half-heartedly. We both knew I never would. I could never cut the calls first, so the responsibility fell to JJ, who suffered the same inability to let go. Our calls usually stretched for hours, and the voicemails left in my inbox from the few times I would pass out with my cheek pressed firmly against some dusty book in the library took up all remaining storage in my phone. Right along side the folders of photos of us that collected by the thousands.

“So why’d you call?” He asked finally. I had no real answer. I used up all my excuses. Could he check for a sweater I left behind, the very same one I had on, or if he could just catch me up on what the others were up to. As if I didn’t call to hear all their stories daily, hourly if possible. What was I to tell him? What excuse could serve as something plausible without bearing a burden on his wide shoulders.

“You’re my best friend. I love you, I don’t need a reason.”

“You always have a reason.” He argued softly.

“Well, tonight I don’t.” I hummed. He hummed too, and silence filled the line.

The homely yellow flicked was accompanied by the blinding lights that came in pairs, growing brighter and wider with each passing second. Like a deer, I stood quickly, tall in my path but frozen in fear. I couldn’t meet the eyes of the man behind the wheel, recklessly racing across the intersection with no caution. Yellow meant slow, yet in the night, it only called for feet hitting the floor.

Puddles splashed violently, wheels screeching against the wet cement, leaving trails of where wet met soaked. I could see the distance between the wheels, I could lay my chest against the ground and measure it with my wingspan. The car swerved, laying down on the horn until the sound sputtered away into the distance, and nothing but the soft ticking of the lights and the sound of rain smacking the pavement filled the silence of the line again.

“Are you outside?” JJ asked finally. The sound of sheets crinkling and shuffling of legs against the mattress told me the loud alarm had stirred him from his relaxed state. I nodded at first, forgetting he couldn’t see me, and then I cleared my throat.

“I’m standing in an intersection.” I confessed quietly.

“Why?”

To clear my mind, to escape everything that was bothering me. To find peace with the silence, to try and find comfort in a home that wasn’t mine. There were a lot of minor reasons. The smell of gasoline was high on the list. I rationalized a lot of reasons in my head. Maybe I was looking for that bitter smell to remind me of home. Still, my gut wouldn’t settle.

I had left home to find something good for myself, to do myself the favor I always promised myself I would if I ever had the chance. But now, now that my feet had carried me to a place that was usually bustling with life, life that felt dull compared to even the most calm days on the island, I felt like I could never go back. A chance, a life, a future that I craved, I was throwing away because my feet refused to lift from the ground until I was sure I would only take my next steps home.

“I miss you.”

My answer was clear. It was true. I missed the waves, I missed the concrete roads freshly paved down in figure eight and how they met the old dirt roads of the cut. I missed John B’s chicken coop, though the chickens were long gone. I missed the dying tree carved with his name, and the rusted latch on the chateau’s porch door that left a yellow stain in the crinkles of my palm. But more than anything, I missed being no more than a breath away from JJ Maybank.

“Come pick me up?” I asked with uncertainty. Not because I even doubted for a moment that JJ wouldn’t come running to me if I even for a moment doubted where I stood, but because the morning was still young and tropical paradise was far away from the whistling winds of the North. Ferries only ran during certain hours, and money was hard to come by, even when we scrape together our pennies. Thats what happens when you drink up your success, you’re left with the repercussions. So, even if he did catch the boat, where would he get a ride from? How much more would it cost to bring the Twinkie alongside hime and ride it all the way to the hills where the colleges welcome signs were illuminated by colored lights, shining in school colors and pride.

He let out a stifled breath. He was choking on emotion I couldn’t read over the phone.

“I’ll be there, yeah.” He promised.

“Okay…I’ll go pack.” I said, suddenly and awkwardly. Yes, I dreamed of this day, kissing everything goodbye and running back to my roots, but now it was real. I could hear JJ slipping on his boots already. Why waste this chance?

“Pack?” He questioned.

“I’m leaving for good, Jay. I know I tell you that this is great and all, but I hate it here. This isn’t…this isn’t what I thought it would be. It’s not what I want.”

“So, you’re coming home?” He asks even though my answer has always been obvious.

“Yes.”

The line falls quiet again. I can hear the shuffling of his feet quickening against the rotting wood floors of the old Maybank property. A broken home flipped into something good. We share a bed there, I imagine he’s already grieving the loss of his starfish sleep position now that he’ll be bound to the same mattress as me again.

“I’ll be there soon.” The line falls dead.

Water splashes around me. If I wasn’t already soaked, I would be now. I can see why John B loved having a car so much now. The cold was fine at first when it was numbing, but now that I had feeling back in my chest, it was too much for me. My feet hit the pavement in harsh slapping movements, I pump my arms for some kind of friction against the wind. My lungs burn, they taste metallic. I want to wheeze and stop running, but I don’t think I could if I tried. I should feel embarrassed how quickly I up and left the place I was once stuck in, how I turned on my heels to run far away. But I’m not. I feel nothing, actually. Nothing but cold, determination, excitement. I have the energy of a child. I am an olympic runner, I have the right motivation. Get the fuck out of here, run myself right into JJ’s arms. I pray I don’t wake my roommate up when I reach my room.

The room is empty when I get there. I open the door so slowly, not even the rusted hinges make a sound. The carpet groans under my weight, even on my highest tip-toes. But the beds are empty and neatly made like they were left this morning. Rains pelts the windows. Theres a fan running. It’s my fan. I can’t sleep in the heat, not even in the winter. My bedding consists of borrowed blankets that I buried myself in, subconsciously trying to suffocate away the homesick feelings.

I barely had any clothes to pack, anything to throw into my duffle bag and my old backpack that was once Kiara’s. I never really got around to unpacking anyway, because there was so little to fill the bags I brought. Looking back on every decision I made before even stepping foot on campus, I should have known I would never stay. This was merely a vacation from hell. I don’t get the privilege to relax, I am worked and forced to prove myself over and over again among my peers who will never know me. I can’t wait to go somewhere where I am known again.

Somewhere along the way, I begin to collect up the posters on my walls. I rip them down hazardously, crumpling them and leaving them in the empty trashcan. It’s empty because there’s nothing I’ve touched in this room. Not the books, or the pens. I have a singular pencil up on my desk that’s much shorter than it once was, only half of its once lengthy size, and a nearly full set of flashcards. I don’t need the memory of this place to follow me. I consider it a favor to my roommate. To gift her with all the supplies she will ever need. She is nice enough, and a lot smarter than me. She’s sitting here on a full ride, though, the collar of her shirt says she could afford it without a penny. I convince myself she deserves it even though I do not know her.

I check my phone repeatedly, and I sit on the bench under the old overhang by my dorms. I stay out of the rain, I stay near the warmth and huddle up. I feel anxious waiting for him. It’s only been a few hours. I swept over the room for the few things I did want to keep. Like one of JJ’s bracelets, though it never even left my wrist. Or the soap I used in the shower. It was brand new, I had just bought a new one. I wait for his call. I wait for the familiar honking of the rusted horn. I wait, and wait as the sun rises. Time ticks by. I am impatient, I wasn’t bred this way, but good things have made me this way. I cannot wait.

“Popes probably gonna kill me.” I mumbled softly.

The car was warm, but my hands still lingered with the outsides touch. I sat on that bench for hours waiting for him. I saw people rise from their beds and lean out the window, taking in the smell of the dewey morning. A few gave me puzzled glances. A drenched girl, dripping down on the bench, wetting everything she touched.

But then, he came. I could see the rusted van before he even put it in park. Just between the brick lined buildings and the paths decorated in dying shrubbery. There was a small gap between the campus lawn and the visitors parking lot. A small slice of the outside world creeping into the sheltered space that was college.

I ran. I ran faster than I ever had in my life. Faster than when I used to race for desert back when Big John used to ruffle my hair and let me sleep over if I wanted, faster than when Ward held a gun to my head and made me pray for some kind of miracle. I ran until my feet couldn’t keep up, and I fell into JJ with a gasp.

He held me back, lifting my feet from the ground they stood on. I swore I heard him mumble something sappy under his breath, but he quickly shrugged it away when he saw the look in my eyes. I never felt love until I felt the desperation in the way he wrapped his arms around me. The way he squeezed the air from my lungs and only let me breathe when he was sure that the feeling between his elbows and his chest was really real, until he knew that this was for good.

He had slung my bags into the back seat and laughed as he told me to get in the Twinkie. When he started driving, he played the old CD we burned together in middle school filled with soft rock and Bob Marley. Occasionally, a song I had written into the playlist without him knowing would play. He always acted angry that I’d done that, but his fingers tapped the wheel and he couldn’t help but hum along. He would never admit to liking trashy pop songs, but the pink on his cheeks gave him away.

When the CD was spun to an end, we debated playing it again. We fell into silence, into the comfort of company. We both took the time to process the fact that this was real now, this was the decision I had decided to make. The thoughts that ran through my mind, what if I took off? What if I packed my bags, what if we moved back home? Let’s adventure down the coast, let’s live our youthful dreams that are unrealistic. Let’s make a home. They were real now, in this car, in him. We sat comfortably knowing that there was no limit on our company now, no restrictions on how much time there was left to borrow.

My socks tapped against the dashboard, my toes tracing the outline of the stickers scattered along the interior. Wet residue was left over, soggy folds gathered at my ankles. My body folded into itself slightly. I let the warn air from the dusty vents dance across my skin. Goosebumps faded like the sinking feeling in my gut. The smell of gasoline filled my nose once more, the smell of his deodorant reminded me that he was close.

“No doubt about it. Don’t know how you’re gonna talk your way out of this one.” JJ sighed contently.

“Well, you’re pretty good at sweet talking.” I buttered him up. Compliments were his weakness, I knew it all too well.

“I love you, but no.” JJ laughed.

“What! Oh, come on, please!”

My hands wrapped around his right bicep. My chin sat perched on his shoulder, batting my eyelashes at him and tickling the peach fuzz on his jaw that he had missed while shaving. I wanted to rub my palm over it, tease him for it with a smile. He had a toothy grin that I could see reflecting back in the rearview mirror.

“I get shit done, but I’m not a miracle worker, ‘kay?” He lifted his arm out of my grasp reluctantly, waving his finger to make his point.

“I thought Papa J was a miracle worker?” I teased with a raised brow. My arms crossed over my chest with a huff. My back fell gently against door. I turned to face him, a pout on my face and lines between my furrowed brows.

JJ let out a breathy laugh, his resolve quickly breaking at my endless begging. He had soft spots and I knew just where to aim.

“No, no! Don’t use my ego against me!” He laughed. I held my stomach this time, trying to keep my ribs together while I struggled to contain the fits of giggles bubbling up my throat and fighting past my lips. If love was a sanctuary, I was certain I had both feet in it. If it was a fire, I was burning up, and if it was the waves, they had crashed down relentlessly against my shivering body, bringing relief with each blow.

I bit the inside of my cheek and chewed at the skin. Laughter faded into even breathing, and my limbs curled up against the wrinkling fabric of the passenger seat. It had just barely started to rain again, a soft pattern of droplets hitting the windshield every so often. The closer we got to the dock, the more it lightened up. Though, the storm came in waves in the shape of the clouds that covered the blue skies. With each opening with sun peaking through, the tapping on glass stopped. When the grey swallowed us whole, it resumed. I didn’t mind it again. Not for the reasons that I wallowed in just hours ago, not to seek comfort in my homesick nature that cane purely from the soul of a homebody. But this time, because the swelling my my heart made me want to pull over to the side of the highway and spin around until my half-dried socks were coated in mud and my skin didn’t recall what the dryness felt like.

“Can I tell you something?” I murmured, my eyes locked in to the passing view that was the trees speeding past the windows.

“Yeah.” JJ hummed.

“I only came back for you.”

JJ hesitated on what he thought he wanted to say. He was biting his tongue. I shook my head.

“That sounds bad.” I laughed. “I only decided to leave because of you. I guess…just sitting in the middle of the road, I already felt really far away from everyone. I missed everyone more than I’ve ever missed anything in my life, but I was convinced that maybe I could suffer through it. But…just being with my thoughts, and hearing your voice after thinking for a while…kinda just convinced me.”

JJ took it all in. I saw the whites of his knuckles deepen the harder he pressed his fingertips to the wheel, the vast expanse of road ahead daunting now. This was beyond quality time together, and he knew it now that the newness began to settle and he began to realize it was the same old me. This was my future, and I had tossed it all away.

“I just…I guess I always thought you’d be the one to make it out. To really go for it. Kildare’s bog enough for me, but I always kinda thought you’d go somewhere…more.” JJ spoke softly, eyes glued to the road.

“Maybe I already did get out. I got out and I tried to change everything about me to be that girl who wanted to get out, but she’s dead. Getting out sounded so freeing when we were younger, but now…now that we’ve seen the world and…and done so much in such little time, I’ve already lived a whole life, I’ve seen the world and I still feel like I don’t know who I am yet. But I know what I love, and I know that I hate every second that I’m away from it.”

JJ hummed again, raising his brows.

“You don’t need to explore every single corner of the earth to be something or-or someone. And maybe I didn’t realize it when I sent my letter in but I know now and I know that, I feel only half as good when I’m anywhere but where I should be. I’m sorry if that’s disappointing or if Pope is going to lecture me for days and you have to listen to it, but I know I have such a better chance of being who I want to be where I can be her than in some Northern University where people wear coats year round.” I rambled. My hands moved quickly. I cut through the air with each slice of my palms, and my eyes ran wild across the landscapes and the curve of his nose down to the bend of his jawline.

“I’m just trying to make sure this is what you want.” He finally cracked a smile. His head turned for a moment to meet my eyes, and I could see the flickers of light brightening up his affectionate gaze.

“Jay, I sat in the pouring rain in the middle of the road and begged you to come get me.” I deadpanned, but a small smile still graced my face.

Truthfully, I couldn’t wait to stick my toes back in the warm sand back home. To look down at my boots and dance along the gravel roads instead of balancing between two yellow lines that shot straight down the neat pavement.

Home was a foreign concept for a long time. The idea that it was something that could be bought. Through a mortgage, monthly rent, out of pocket. I never had those kinds of expenses. What was pocket change for some felt like gold to me, so maybe when people sat around talking about how they craved a big house to reside in, I never fully understood. Then again, I was never anywhere long enough to know.

I wouldn’t change a thing, how I ran around with my friends for years looking for gold that seemed to become buried under more and more stories, leading us to an even greater prize. I wouldn’t change the way I threw it all away to be with them. Subconsciously, I was smarter than I thought. Pope talked about packing up his bags, skipping town and moving to Idaho. Somewhere where he meant nothing to nobody and could start over. But I never indulged in it, or the fantasies of having a little more money. Being stable out be nice, but I always knew I had what I needed. I had a home and it was built on the structure of my four best friends that soon grew in size to six, and they had toothy smiles and stupid jokes.

“Do you think they’ll be mad?” I asked suddenly. Sure, this was right and it was what was true, but this was a dream that nobody else ever got to experience.

JJ pulled his lip between his teeth.

“Nah.” He sighed. “Pope will have your head, but Pope gets wound up easily. Could use him as a fishing pole.” JJ joked. It made me laugh and I felt any stress melting away. It was funny that he could do that anytime he pleased. I didn’t know if he ever knew he could do it, but he had a smart mouth, and a funny bone that always seemed to tickle me just right.

“But not you?” I asked once again.

“Not me what?”

“You wouldn’t? Be disappointed in me, that is.” I clarified softly, the roads becoming softer the more me drove along them. It was only moments until we’d soon roll onto the metal bridge connecting us to the boat that would send us home.

JJ breathed out through his nose.

“Is this what you want?”

“Yes.” I responded plainly.

“And it makes you happy?”

“Yes.” JJ sighed, his eyes flickering from the wheel, to the road, and back to me. But only for a moment.

“Then no.” He answered just as plainly as I did, but there was a twinge of happiness itching at the corners of his lips. Selfishly, he wanted me to come home, and selfishly, I did too.

“Well, are you mad at me?” I continued to press him.

He laughed. “I could never be angry at you.”

“Not even if this is the wrong choice?” I picked at the skin by my fingers. My skin hurt a lot less now that it was shedding the smell of foreign land and letting the faint smell of the Twinkie stick.

“Who am I to tell you if it’s wrong?”

“Well, Pope would tell me it’s wrong.” I argued weakly.

“And am I Pope?”

I shook my head silently, and my eyes glued to my fingers. Blood stained my cuticles, where skin met nail. It stung, but it hurt a lot less than what I felt before.

“Y/n/n, you could send me into bankruptcy and act like we’re rich and I don’t think I’d even have it in me to blame you.” JJ smiled. I focused on the slopes and curls of his hair.

We sat in silence for a moment. It wasn’t like he was Shakespeare, but it wasn’t often JJ said something truly sappy. Usually, his philosophies revolved around excuses for his own stupid actions, which, now that he had explained his view on me, I had come to realize I never fully saw the extent of his behavior because I had never had the courage to blame him. I never would.

“So, you’ll talk me out of trouble when we get back?” I smiled sweetly, leaning my head on his shoulder and batting my eyelashes desperately.

JJ let out a laugh from deep in his stomach, his cheeks turning pink from his gasps of oxygen.

“I love you, but no.”

“I thought JJ was the reckless one, but holy shit, Y/n/n!” Pope ran a hand over his hat, pulling it off by the brim in one quick motion. The hard fabric hit the wooden counter of the bait and charter shop, the slap echoing through the homely space.

“Can you blame me? It’s so far away, and we just got back! I haven’t been in one place for more than a month in years, and I’m so god damn tired of feeling homesick all the time!” I tried to argue against the growing rally against me. I pleaded my case, but they all looked at me like I was brain dead.

“You had a chance, Y/n. A really good one too and you blew it, for what? To sell bait? To slum it in the cut? You can do that when you’re done earning your other options!” He scolded me like I was a kid. But I’m not a kid, and the worry lines slowly creeping up onto my once vibrant face are only evidence of the ever growing number attached to my bones.

“Yes, but a chance I didn’t ever really want! I mean, how could I even know if I ever wanted it, I don’t know who I am!”

“Thats what growing up is for! Not growing down. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you’re not a kid anymore, Y/n. And you never will be again!”

Silence fell over the small room. Even the waves rolling against the dirt didn’t dare to whisper through the large windows and gaps for doors.

“I sacrificed that for you.” I spoke softly, bitterly. For so long, I’s bitten my tongue for everyone. Hidden my resentment for chasing after a gold, I never really wanted because in my eyes, I already had it. But it was what they wanted, so I let myself age out of the period of my life I had dreamed of since I was a kid.

“I gave up my childhood so that you could figure out yours! You got to know who you are, I never got that because no one ever stopped to ask me what I wanted! Nobody! You were all too caught up in your greedy treasure hunt to ever look around and think about if everyone wanted to do this!”

“No one made you come along.” Kiara stepped forward, the same disapproving look in her eyes. She was only defending her wordless friend, but my feet felt heavy and my joints were warm. I felt myself creating sentences I should have never admitted out loud.

“Well I did! I did, and it’s too late to change that, and I did it because that’s what friends do. But what do we have to show for it? Nothing! We didn’t get the cross, we didn’t get the gold, hell, we already spent all of the nuggets John B managed to grab!” It fell silent again, and suddenly, I was standing in the center of a circle I didn’t want to be a part of.

“So what? Because we failed, it condemns you to leave college?” Kiara always had a smarter mouth than me. She was quit witted and observant. Yet, she failed to understand that my choice to come home wasn’t something merely of the way the treasures slipped through our fingers. It was a homesickness she never had to feel because she had plenty of them where she was consistently welcomed.

“Why is it so wrong for me to be unhappy with something that everyone else enjoys? Just because my dreams do not inspire yours does not make them any less important. A-and honestly I’m sick of standing here and listening to all of you yell at me for getting out of there instead of letting myself waste away! I’d be dead if I didn’t leave, I’d be dead because you all mean a lot too much to me for me to be away from you guys for so long. In four years I might be rich, but I would be unhappy. I would be bored. But you guys—us; we will be interesting, and funny, and bold, and unpredictable forever.”

I swallowed hard, and my eyes met the blues of the boy who had the courage to go against the majorities better judgement and bring me home. He had the same wild look on his face.

I hadn’t expected JJ to speak for me, to try and mellow out the anger I knew I would receive and backtrack against the backlash I would surely face. But out of everyone, I thought I could count on him to have my back.

And he just, didn’t.

I decided then I wouldn’t stay in the eye of the hurricane when I knew what it was capable of. I wouldn’t let myself become part of its destruction if I knew I could separate myself from it for just a moment, to remove myself from all the disappointed stares.

My feet hit the wood of the long dock, the bottoms of my shoes echoing through each plank of wood, all borrowed from the destruction of a past home.

I thought of packing up, leaving, heading over to some other place I could call home temporarily, but my fingers hesitated to reach under the bed, and my knuckles curled away from the zipper that connected to the duffle bag that was squished between dirty clothes and shoe boxes filled with memories.

A hand spun me around, pulling me from the daze I had put myself in the second I walked into the new bedroom that was mine to keep in the newly fixed home. It was calloused and warm, yet the coolness of the rings decorated on each finger revealed who the strong hold belonged to.

“Why couldn’t say something?” I asked bitterly before my eyes even met his. It was just JJ and I in the confines of our bedroom. The door shut without a crack and the windows sealed off from the outside.

“I told you I wouldn’t.” He smiled. I didn’t find it funny.

“No, but you could have defended me. I would have done it for you.” My lip wobbled. My throat stung, and JJ’s eyes softened. He must have believed it was because he hurt me, but it wasn’t his fault. It was just the idea that nobody would ever deal with what I felt because they hadn’t been burdened with the feeling of it ever before. And therefore, nobody would ever get it, nor have an inkling of an understanding of why I had to come home.

“Y/n/n, come on. It’ll blow over. They’ll be happy to have you back as soon as they get over it.” He tried to comfort me.

When his hands found my shoulders, it felt belittling, condescending, though I knew it wasn’t the case. I convinced myself it was because I was angry. Spiteful, maybe.

“No, JJ, stop. Stop touching me like you care, I can’t…I can’t stand it right now.” I stepped away, throwing his hands off of me like they were poison, or fire, or both.

“Everyone is looking at me like I’m a failure! Like…like I’m something to be embarrassed about. But who are they to say that I failed? Right? I spent my whole life, the years when I’m supposed to be finding myself licking the dirt off of other peoples shoes! And I took it and I didn’t complain because I thought that maybe my day would come, and it hasn’t! How is that fair? And to think I was stupid enough to think that something good would happen to me. But the truth is I hate being out of this stupid town, and this stupid town hates me. I-it’s like they’re all spitting on me and blaming it on the wind. And don’t look at me like I’m crazy because I love you too damn hard to be looked at like that by a boy I would give my whole life for!”

I breathed heavily through my teeth, and my chest raised with so much vigor in my voice, I shook the air with a desperate anger I had felt marinating for decades beneath my skin. Yet, the manhunting and the blaming had pushed it down, and the failure and the fear had only boiled it back up. But it was always there, simmering. JJ just laughed.

“I’m only looking at you like you’re crazy because I think you’re too good to care what anyone has to say about you.” He explained with a smile.

“To you, maybe. But that doesn’t make it true. Whats true is that they all had some image of me painted for them the second I made the decision to go to college, and it was wrong. Because I’m not nearly smart enough to be as interesting or independent as they want me to be. I can’t do organic chemistry, I’ve never passed a calculus test, I’m not a doctor. Nobody ever supported those dreams anyways, not even me, because as amazing as it would be to become those versions of myself, it’s not me.” My face crumpled in defeat finally.

“I’m not…good enough for anything outside of this town.”

For the first time in my life, I saw something in JJ’s eyes as I confessed how I saw myself, how I let my friends—no, my families anger affect how I saw my decisions. I saw dapples of disappointment flickering in the sea of his eyes.

“Do you really think thats true?” He asked calmly, softly. He ran a hand through his hair. He wanted to reach out for me, but he too shared that feeling of uncertainty that had consumed me in the past months.

“Good god, maybe they were right. Maybe you are a failure.” JJ sighed, and my breathing halted. “How can you for one second believe that anything they have to say is true? How can you believe that these things you think about yourself are true?”

“Well what am I supposed to believe? We were all raised to believe the same things, right? The engineers and the scientists are necessary but nobody needs the family man or-or the artists to carry on, right? So why should my dreams of just simple living be tolerated when everyone else craves so much more?” I cried.

“Do you even hear yourself? It’s contradictory in every sentence!” JJ yelled furiously back at me. But his anger wasn’t placed at me, but at the things that led me to believe what I thought.

“Just a few hours ago you were excited to come home. You were certain that this is what you wanted because it was your dream and your life! You wanted to find yourself, to know who you are. And you were right! More dead on than anyone had ever been in my life, and hearing you speak about what you knew inspired me to think more for myself than for the benefit of everyone else! College, or some fancy job, or money won’t make any of us know who we are, that’s your job!” JJ’s eyes were wide. He had decided now, and his hands found a home on my arms, squeezing hard and passionately.

“Anyone can be those things they want you to be, but I promise you, if you stick with what you know you want, everyone you touch will remember you for centuries.” He promised me softly.

“And how do I know if I even know myself? What if I’ve never been home enough long enough to know?”

“Then you’ll find it. You’ll find it, and I’ll find it too. We can find it together.”

My eyes searched his. I could no longer blink away my tears. The liquid was much warmer than the rain that had pelted against my skin, that had slipped down my back and under my shirt to touch the most painful and terrifying parts of myself that I had refused to acknowledge or recover for some time. It was hard to recognize it all, to know exactly who I wanted to be, so, I did what I did know.

I wrapped my arms around JJ tightly, burying my head in the wrinkles of his shirt and let the patterns his arms rubbed circles in my back guide the way I swayed. I let him hold me, because if anything could be uncertain then he was nothing. He was the one thing I’d always known, and maybe that was why I had called him that night. Because in every memory I ever had, he was the one defining memory of home. He was home.

“Will you be mad at me if I never find it?” I asked pathetically against his chest.

“No.” He responded softly, muffled by the way his lips pressed into the top of my head affectionately.

“I could never be angry at you.”

[grapejuicebluesrry]

28th november fic rec!

*welcome to the final show*

this is the last 28th appreciation of 2024 for me, as i'll be posting my 2024 fic recs in the last week of december so ill just include my december recs in there :)

so! here's my november fic recs:

Eternal Summer (65K) by j_klmnop

After the death of his estranged father, Harry makes the trip from London to Naples, Italy to say his goodbyes. He has seven days before the funeral and since he's on summer break from university, he decides to make a road trip out of it.

His carefully planned trip is thrown a loop when he meets a beautiful blue eyed hitchhiker named Louis, who is trying to escape his controlling family. With no destination in mind— just the desire to get as far away as possible, Louis decides to tag along for the ride to Italy, with plans to continue on once they arrive.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄

now that we're alone (say you hate me) (18K) by 28goldensfics | @28goldens

Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson are Co-Project Managers, constantly bickering at work, always finding themselves at odds, and competing to be the best. When a scheduling mishap with their company’s timeshare forces them to share a summer vacation, they're less than thrilled. But, as they navigate their time together, they realize that their animosity might be masking something a bit deeper than the hate.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄

reminiscence (259K) by Fxckinf

“I’ll always look after you.” Louis whispers.

“Always?”

“Always and forever, Harold.”

Or

Louis and Harry were the friends that fell in love and then broke up. Harry tries to navigate having his ex in his friendship group, which only gets harder when it becomes apparent that there’s a secret.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄

if we were butterflies (52K) by blueskiesrry | @blueskiesrry

“Is this how I used to look at you?” His hand hovers just over the collarbone of the sculpture, like he’s caught between wanting to touch and wanting to pull away, wanting to leave and wanting to stay.

Eyes stuck on Harry, unaware of anything else in the room, Louis whispers, “Something like that,” wondering now if he ever quite did it justice.

or: after recruiting harry to model for his sculptures and coming to know all his edges, louis loses him to a life more prosperous than he can provide. he finds harry again four years later.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄

Seeing Blind (46K) by zedi

Louis finally turns his head in Liam’s direction, knows his face is showing the longing he’s been aching with ever since it took root in his chest. “What the fuck do I do, Liam? He wouldn’t want me like that, but I want-” his voice cracks, and he turns his face back downwards. “What do you do when you’re not perfect for the person who’s perfect for you?”

OR the one where Harry’s an independent omega who likes to have his fun and Louis is the blind alpha that changes Harry’s priorities.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄

Stars over Amsterdam (4K) by HelloLovers13 | @hellolovers13

Louis remembers how stressed they were, trying to get tickets at all. The waiting for the email with the code, which only Louis got, the actual On-sale. How Harry stood behind him, peeling at his nails nervously. Trying not to distract Louis.

But it had all gone smoothly and he had gotten the tickets within just a few minutes.

Harry had jumped around Louis’s chair in excitement like a bouncing ball. Already starting to plan their outfits.

A gold fringe dress for Harry, Fearless was his favourite album, after all, and a matching shirt he had found online for Louis. So people could tell right away they were an item.

That was their plan. Before it all went to shit.

or

Fate in form of Eras Tour tickets forces Louis to meet up with his Ex.

Hopefully soon to be Ex-Ex.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄

[series] I See Us in Black & White (70K) by Ioudloudlove

Harry Styles is just your average 20-something. He followed his soul to a new town and now he works hard as a barman and lives alone in his little house. That is until he's swept off his feet... literally.

When Harry regains consciousness, his entire world has changed. Everything that was once black and white is now flooded with colour. And the first person he sees is his soulmate...Liam.

What Harry didn't count on was Liam's best mate...Louis. What is it about him that Harry just can't let go of? Why has his entire world been turned around? And is it really possible to walk away from your soulmate to chase a dream?

Original Prompt:

soulmate au where you see the world in black-and-white until you meet your soulmate. Harry Styles meets two people at once at the moment he first sees in colour, makes the wrong choice, and falls in love with the right one anyway

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄

Whole Lot of History (73K) by Blue_Green28 | @bluegreen28fics

Louis and Harry have a whole lot of history. With 3 children coming out of their twelve years long marriage they are essential parts of each other's lives even though they have moved on with new partners since their divorce ten years ago. Or have they?

What happens when Harry finally gets some money to open the coffee shop he had always dreamed of and they spend more time together to plan everything? Does their love still have a chance?

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄

Not having a breakdown! (I'm just here for the kid.) (28K) by louisismycat (tiflamomet) | @liminalkitty369

Harry has to park outside his ex-husband’s (Louis) wedding so that he can whisk their kid away if a meltdown ensues during the day. Guests will not know this and will only see him parked outside, it cannot be stressed enough, his ex-husband’s wedding.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄

Hazelbridge (77K) by CoolCrying

Nestled in the heart of the Yorkshire Dales, the tiny town of Hazelbridge has been home to Louis and his family for generations. Heir to his grandfather's historic bookshop, Louis lives a quiet but happy life, providing a hub for the town's many queer people, and indulging his love for books. That is, until Harry Styles comes to town.

This is the story of a town and two bookshops. It's the story of a family, and two boys with very different stories, who fell in love.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄

At Least Let Me Buy You Dinner First (35K) by Anonymouis

“I said, Harry. As in Styles. AKA you. You’re pretty and certainly a piece of art if you ask me.” Louis mewls.

“Oh,” Harry breathes. He takes a moment taking in Louis.

Louis watches his eyes work their way all over his face and body trying to read him. Luckily, he knows just how to read Harry. The moment their eyes meet again, Louis leans in a little at a time, as slowly as possible. His heart racing, giving Harry all the time to back out, but then, Harry is reaching around Louis’ wrist and sliding their hands together, lacing their fingers and leaning in as well.

Then…

The bell above the door rings.

They both pull back at light speed, sniffling and coughing from almost being caught. Harry trips over his own feet with the force that he used. Giggles fall from both of them while Louis steadies him.

“First day with legs there, bambi?”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄

Come What May (58K) by j_klmnop

Louis didn't believe in love at first sight until he met his neighbour Harry, the gorgeous man in the apartment next door who saved lives and had a smile that made his knees weak.

Louis was determined that today was the day he would finally grow some balls and ask Harry on a date.

Until his plans were disrupted by an unexpected delivery. One that would surely ruin his chances at any kind of love life.

Or, maybe it would be just what Louis needed to bring he and Harry closer together.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄

2 a.m. texts (30K) by everysingleday

Harry has just come out and, with his best friend Louis’ support, he might finally be brave enough to go on a date with the guy he’s been chatting with on a dating app. Meanwhile, there’s a cat that wants to murder Louis, a fast-approaching deadline for Harry to find a new place to live, and this minor situation wherein he and Louis can’t seem to stop making out. It’s not a big deal. Louis is just being supportive.

—

aka, a practice kissing fic.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄

Roman Empire (11K) by Speechless

One day Louis answers Liam's phone while he is in the shower.

That's how he meets Harry, Liam's friend who moved to Italy just a while ago.

And that's how Liam loses ownership of his phone.

“Do they sleep on the other side of the bed in Italy?”

He hears Harry laugh for a moment.

“I sleep right in the middle,” Harry replies. “Because no one will marry me.”

Louis bites back a little smile.

“Have you asked enough people?”

“The old lady walking her dog, just now.” Harry confirms. “She said no.”

Written for the BLFF 2024

Based on prompt 205: A Larry fic that includes the “I love you,” “no, you don’t” convo.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄

stat time!!

948,562 words read (2% less than last month)

25 fics read (4% less than last month)

25 authors (0% more than last month)

🍫 for you for making it this far

[inchidentally]

Inchie we need your words of reason again 🙏 Newer fans have bled over from other hockey rpf and keep crossing lines 🫥

babe idk how wise I am ?? at all but I'm a firm believer in using common sense about rpf. and I haven't personally seen the stuff you're alluding to but! I've seen posts referring to it and I heard smth about another ship suffering a containment breach… so can't hurt to throw my 2c in as well ?? idk?

tl;dr that landoscar is NOT the ship for you if you 're going to try and force it to be "real" in a l*rry way*. this ship adores the real life friendship without having it compete with the guys' other many friendships - and we do NOT hate women and women partners or pretend they're beards/fakes/conveniently open relationship. and we absolutely do NOT push rpf outside of fandom. you'll get blocked/reported if you do. this is NOT the space for you to find your next "omg what if they're actually fcking" ship. Lily and Oscar are basically forever, Lando is rightfully loving his life sharing his beautiful body with people, and the fan fiction for the ship is staggeringly amazing so we're very very happy w the status quo <3

and we do NOT share rpf content with Lando, Oscar, anyone in F1, the families - basically if they're not someone you know solely in fandom, you don't share rpf with them. again, you will not find support for that here.

I "officially" joined landoscar fandom around Silverstone 2023 and these have been the hard lines taken for as long as I can remember and from all of the OG people in this fandom. esp from people who've been here since Oscar's Alpine tweet bc landoscar is unique in not having led with a PR image and we've all gotten to see every nervous, stumbling and authentic progression of their partnership and friendship along the way - at no point feeling the need to cross the boundary between fic and reality. it truly is charming and intriguing and rewarding as it exists in reality!

as far as the 'why' essay I'll drop all that where it can be ignored easily aslfgjalgf

like I said - landoscar has always been the exception of no one ever slipping over into trying to "make it real" in large part bc Lando and Oscar don't do the PR bromance/fake gay/fan service stuff which !reminder! is content in other ships I absolutely eat up and is 100% targeted to me but !! I'm also aware is connected to a lot of inappropriate fan behavior from ppl who blur the lines between amusing PR content and reality. trust me, I had to basically abandon carland0 which was my very first f1 ship bc to this day - fully out in the open - I see casual misogyny thrown around about Rebecca and ppl truly loudly thinking Lando and Carlos - who have always referred to each other as brothers and who laugh at the "gay" stuff they do precisely bc it's not real - genuinely fcked and/or dated. I will never care enough about an rpf ship to willingly encounter that shit on a regular basis. I know there's a lot of good ppl in the ship who don't engage in that stuff but I have such a hard line about wag hate that it's not worth it for me.

ironically or maybe because of, Lando and Oscar are the only drivers to NOT engage in playing gay for laughs BUT also who hit multiple progressive bullet points in things like discussing romance and dating in gender neutral terms and not making a big deal out of consuming or discussing queer media etc. they actually walk the walk in not pushing gender identity or sexual orientation on hypotheticals or on each other. they also don't do any macho/tradmasc behavior with each other or even bro-ey stuff like rough-housing or loud, aggressive humor (nothing wrong with loud bro stuff tho as long as it doesn't veer into toxic territory! I come from hockeyblr originally so it can be really sweet!)

and landoscar is also the exception in that we all ADORE Lily and have zero interest in trying to erase her let alone anyone be hostile toward her. in straight people culture they're basically already married and that's how they were when landoscar started as a ship! a lot of us have regularly made posts similar to this for newer fans to remind them that Lily (and whoever Lando ends up with as a steady partner) are NOT pawns in an rpf game. Lily is a real human woman with a real life relationship with Oscar and while no one is obliged to engage w wag content, respecting her existence is the bare minimum expected.

the last point I should make is that there's a very clear difference for instance on my blog where I see fanservice ship content about say charl0s or frand0 or n0rtrell and lose my mind over it and love it etc. but then there's Alex or Rebecca or Pietra on my blog! bc I can have fun without erasing women or losing common sense!!

whereas whenever I post stuff about a friendship that rly does make me Feel Things and write my insane essays, it's bc of what the relationships verifiably are and not what they aren't. Max F truly has a complexity and level of depth in his relationship with Lando that is unique and special to each other's lives. in the same way, Lando and Oscar truly do have a particular charm and fondness for each other that's made them approach each other unusually tentatively and slowly - while also having such intense blushing fondness as well as a uniquely intriguing maturity to their professional partnership. this stuff is fascinating and those two examples in particular swim around into all kinds of social/emotional territory.

in ways that do not require conspiracies and fan theories of them fcking or dating to make them compelling.

(and tbh the fact that Lando has some form of "crush" on a lot of handsome men and subconsciously/consciously "flirts" is absolutely fine to enjoy... as long as none of it gets outside of fandom.)

and the fan fiction for landoscar is truly TRULY staggeringly prolific and immensely talented so that's where we go for imagining them in any other type of reality <3

*do not get mad or whatever abt this - if you did or still do just want to ship l*rry privately then whatever but that's the like terrible gold standard for horrific real life repercussions of taking rpf seriously and why fandoms should never ever allow that to happen. there's no debate about that.

[choshasan]

Why do we find it okay as artists to redo "the greats" arts, to make 1:1 of them, to use them as practice, to refference them in our own works,

But then if you did the same with a small artist's work, you're suddenly an art theif, a cheater, a liar, a terrible person??

Why is it acceptable for me to make fanart of any anime character I so please, but if I come across someone's OCs online I'm expected to ask their concent if I wanna make fanart?

Small artists and "the greats" are the same, we're all just artists.

I genuinly don't understand it. If I want to paint a 1:1 of The desperate Man (Gustave Courbet), or if I wanna make a thousand fanarts of Deadpool that's fully okay, but if I even think of doing that with a small artist, it's suddenly one of the worst treasons I could have ever commited on art and I get stripped of my title of artist??

That's the thing I hate the most of the art community too, you're expected to know from the beginning all these sets of "rules" and are never given an explanation to them

Like, I remember getting fucking torn to shreads on instagram once, when I was fucking 11-12 years old, because I found a drawing I liked on google, decided to redraw it in the exact style with different colors for the characters, like?? Sorry, I am a *child* who doesn't know shit about the internet and tried to do something I thought was nice and neat???

And the worst part is, deppending where your art lands? Some artists will tell you it's okay, there's no rules to art, do as you want!

And others will send you death threats for so much as existing bruh.

To me personally, I fall in the category of art has one rule; don't claim another person's work as your own. Don't just screenshot someone's art, post it and say you made it.

(Obv with the new age, don't use A.I., but that'll never be art so.. 💀)

For everything else, there are no rules. Trace, copy, make a 1:1, build upon pre-existing works, draw someone's OCs, share your own OCs, inspire yourself of different works and mediums, do as you wish, share what you want, art is not something to be gatekept, it's the most human thing there is. Music, drawing, painting, writing, feeling inspired, Creating. it all comes to us naturally as humans. We all love beauty and creating it. Let's not stop eachother from experiencing the beauty of creation. ♡

Also, never try to ruin someone else's work or tear them down, but that mostly applies to everything in life, not art specifically..

Lets build a beautiful community together and nurture eachother's talents with love and appreciation ♡

Feel free to reblog & add any tags to this! I tried to tag as many art forms / communities as I could think right now ♡

[communistkirby]

11/26

$132.90/1147

hey folks, i kinda fell off cause of stressful shit happening in my life, but we had to use some of the money for food. no new donations have come in since my last post, and we only have 5 days left until we are under threat of eviction. please keep sharing this post, any amount of help with this would be greatly appreciated

11/17

$0/1147

hey folks, it's been a bit, but we're in need of help coming up with rent again. any amount helps as always, but please share this with as many folks as you can as well, the more reach this gets, the faster we'll make rent, and the faster i can stop asking y'all for money.

v: Alix-March

c: $VLier

p: Beerail

P.S. Don't tag this with ANYTHING

[studentessa-socit]

tue • 27/11/24

studied anthropology 📚

attended anthropology class 📝

bought vin brulè (hot sweet red wine) to warm up - serious north italian shit 🍷

walked around in the christmas markets 🎄

went to see the last episode of a theather project about uni life made by students 🎭

ate and talked with a close friend (who has been pretty busy lately) 🫂

Today I studied less than I had planned to (which still is kind of good) because I was feeling sad anxious and tired, and since I am terrified of burnout, I decided to give myself a break and let myself do fun things because I deserve it and I need to be gentle with myself if I want to be more productive tomorrow.

I think it's important to share what I do in my free time in these posts because that is part of my university experience, I don't want you or anybody to think that being a student means to study study study and never take breaks or have fun, it's important to recognize when we need to stop and we should romanticize overworking ourselves.

[melatonindeficient]

random not so random arcane parallel or whatever this is

One of my favourite arcane relationships is that between viktor, jayce, and Mel (and not just cause them plus me is my dream polycule).

But another thing about them is how their storylines are so very different yet so deeply similar and intertwined and one of the reasons why is because they, more than anyone, time and time again share the theme that you can't escape where you come from.

I say them more than anyone else because they practically have entire seasons dedicated to that sentiment. Season one is them attempting to escape who they are (jayce, a scientist, Viktor, a person from the undercity, Mel, her family and that past) while season two is them being forced to look that past in the eye and embrace it.

The thing is, this embracing ends up not being for the better with Viktor because in returning to the undercity he feels indebted to "heal" it and then the whole wide world goes to shit. On the other hand, Mel and Jayce are forced to look their demons in the eye and work through them. Mel's case is more obvious, but with Jayce, though he doesn't go back to being a scientist (he can't really do so given the circumstances) and still takes on a leadership role, he does revert back to his initial dream of progress. He does something good for Piltover. That's all he wanted.

But though it was for the worse with Viktor (until the last literal five minutes of the show when he rethought his values and his actions thanks to Jayce) and for the better with Mel and Jayce, it takes elevation for Viktor and degradation for the other two for this change to happen. There is a parallel between Mel and Jayce in which they are both stuck at the bottom of a cave of sorts, and Viktor is quite literally floating in his paradise. It's a sort of heaven and hell, but strange because in this situation Mel and Jayce have little reason to be punished so severly (or at least, if they are being punished so should the eugenist but whatever). I guess it could be commentary on what one deserves based on whether or not they do something about their preconceived beliefs and the circumstances of their birth (because we know that they think pilties = good, zaunites = bad when it's actually the other way around) but that's a whole nother conversation.

But again, the whole heaven hell thing shows that the only way for them (particular Viktor and Jayce in this situation) to undergo great change was to see life from the perspective of someone, at least symbolically, opposite from them (as in going from the top to the bottom of society and vice versa). And it's even odder because the great change that they experience is literally just a reversion to who they were supposed to be from the start. They had to see life in an opposite way to go back to being the same.

It also shows that a person of a "lower class" can be elevated to the heights of heaven and we can call them a success (because they are) but there will forever be something wrong if someone is placed below someone else. All it proves is that the existence of a class with more power than another is bullshit.

Ekko (and alternate Powder) says that sometimes the only way to move forward is to leave some stuff behind but with Mel, Jayce, and Viktor the only way to move forward was to quite literally do the opposite: they had to reaccept what they'd left behind to do some good, real good in the world.

[rainbowfish3iswriting]

So I had another wonderful idea while at work.

We love Peter Parker in Gotham fics where Dick Grayson is Peter’s biological father. Peter has no idea what Gotham is and hates he’s in New Jersey. Meeting the Batfam, finding out his bio dad is alive in this universe, and the angst that goes along with Peter getting to know his dead dad.

Now let me introduce a concept that can crush hearts. ❤️

So what if, before Peter Parker arrives in Gotham, before the events of No Way Home, Dick has a kid, his own Peter. It doesn’t matter how he came to be or who the mom is. Dick has a kid and he loves him. The kid doesn’t have to be named Peter but he’s an alternative version of Peter.

Sadly, Dick’s son dies at a young age. How he dies can be something as simple as a car accident or drowning to something extremely like The Joker blowing up a school and his son was inside.

Dick’s son is dead, taken too soon from this world.

So here comes Peter Parker. Who’s a homeless teenager who is trying to survive Gotham on his own after being thrown out of his own universe.

The Batfam meet Peter in and out of costume and it’s Tim who makes the connection. He’s staring at Peter and thinks: Would my nephew look like Peter if he grew up to be a teen? This triggers a reaction inside Tim, because why dose this kid look like an older version of his nephew?? And the more he studies Peter, the more he sees the resemblance of his late nephew. Same hair, same eyes, same nose shape!

Tim decides to look up Peter Parker, mostly to end the nagging thoughts that the homeless teen is his dead nephew. Peter seems like a private person, doesn’t talk much about his personal life. All they know he’s a teen from Queens, New York whose family is all dead. But when Tim looks him up, he can’t find anything on this kid! No social media! No obituaries about his dead relatives! He finds Peter’s birth certificate (didn’t help he has the same birthday as his dead nephew’s), social security number, and other legal documents that are all fake! They’re forgeries and they’re really good forgeries! Tim almost passed them off as real.

This is bad! This kid has fake documents! Why would a homeless teenager have fake documents??! Why dose a teen who looks like his dead nephew have fake documents??!

Holy SHIT! Someone must of cloned his nephew!!!

No this can’t be right? Who on earth is sick enough to do that!? (A lot of people) Tim meets Peter again and gets his DNA without the teen noticing. This will prove once and for all this kid isn’t a clone of his dead nephew, his fears can be put to rest, he can focus on more important matters. Like why dose Peter have fake documents?

It’s 100% match, Tim cries.

Tim gets the familiar together and explains his findings. Everyone is freaking out. Dick is angry and devastated, that someone took his child’s DNA and cloned him. He also feels hope. Even through the kid may be a clone, it’s still his son at the end of the day. this could be Dicks only chance to have his son back, even if it’s not his real kid.

Fast forward to the Batfam managing to take (kidnapped) Peter to the manor where the reveal everything to him. ( Doesn’t help that his dead dad is alive and in front of them) The news confuses and overwhelms the kid.

Clone?? They really thought he was a clone??!

After Peter recovers from the shock, he finally tells them the truth. That he’s not a clone, but is from a different dimension. He explains his whole life story to the bats.

It ends with Dick and Peter getting to know one another. Their share lose of family not only helps them bond but also heal wounds that they never realized were there until now.

[theinfamousmaybelle]

I know, right? Like, these motherfuckers think it's cool to just 'hate' on a character. Do they realize the character is meant to be written that way? Like, guess what: the world doesn't revolve around you (the haters). Being rude too someone is not cool. It does not make you seem cool. Hating on somebody is not fucking cool, it is shitty and pathetic. It does not make you seem like the coolest person ever, it makes you sound like an asshole and a dickbag.

Harassing someone is not cool, either. If you don't have anything nice too say, don't say anything at all. That's a rule I go by. Kat poured her heart and soul into her writing and people shitted all over the female characters. What about the males?

'Oh, Ruin killing billions upon trillions of innocent people is okay because he 'stopped something bigger' from happening'? Oh yeah definitely (sarcasm) 💀. 'Oh, Bloodmoon hurting Earth is okay because he was made too kill'. Yeah, sure it is, buddy 🙄 like, are we forgetting what Moon did? He abused Sun. But nooo, everyone glazes past that. I love Moon, but goddamn, you guys are oblivious!

Oh, and don't get me STARTED on the Earth and Pollux hate. Earth being a tool and walked all over is okay because she's a 'woman'? But the moment she is even a little selfish, people shit all over her character because they are pathetic little assholes who don't care about people. At least people who apologize for hating have some HUMANITY. People are shitting on Pollux as well, because she was acting 'childish' and being a 'hypocrite'. Whilst the hypocrite thing is true, she doesn't understand basic emotions, you can't expect her too know. Women get so hated on...like, stop being sexist!

If you childish ass fuckers think that you can get away with this, you are so fucking wrong. All you children who are immature? Get mature. Or leave this community. GET A LIFE. TOUCH SOME GRASS. DO ANYTHING OTHER THAN SHIT ON CHARACTERS. If you wake up every morning and think 'wow, time too hate on anyone who doesn't share my opinion' then you can go unfollow me. 'A little sensitive too getting blocked, so maybe don't do that. But please, if you're a hater, unfollow me.

It is genuinely not fair. Kat is living in a hell you haters created. She has a right too quit. Nobody can blame her. If I see any of you miserable fucks doing that, I will personally call you out and then block you. Nobody deserves too go through that shit. You haters are the reason she quit. You are responsible for this.

Thank you for reading.

Genuinely

If you think it’s funny or cute to harass Queenkatluv or mock her for stepping away from a fandom that has gone out of its way to make her feel unwelcome

Block me. I don’t want to see you. Unfollow me immediately. You are not welcome in my community

Kat is a wonderful writer, and voice actor, and extremely sweet and kind and the VAs stuck their necks out for me when I was being harassed for months on end. None of the VAs deserve the shit this fandom puts them through, and it’s this fandom’s fault that she is leaving. She already left the discord, she abandoned her askbox. She is now being harassed in her personal DMs on Twitter.

This is bullshit.

You do not belong in this community if you think this is acceptable behavior.