#who cares about what happens to yours in the process.

[onetruesirius]

In terms of artistry and homework... I think that there's a fundamental disconnect when it comes to AI, broadly, about what the fucking point of all of this, even is??

If I am grading a paper about anything, there is fundamentally one thing and really one thing only that I am looking for, at all. Right, because we all call it AI plagiarism, you took SOMEONE ELSE'S INTELLECTUAL PROPE—

*GUNSHOT*

No. I don't even necessarily care all that much that you tried to pass someone else's work off as your own. Realistically, that shit happens all the time—I could give a shit but people steal/unduly take credit for each other's work CONSTANTLY in industry and business and generally out in the real world. We see it happen all the time, historicially and in the present. There's a huge precedent, actually, for people being very VERY financially successful when they steal other people's ideas, hand over fist. That's just a reality of life.

What I care about is that I heard from you. I care that I heard YOUR thoughts, from YOUR head, conveyed in the way that you and ONLY YOU can convey them. Yeah, maybe they aren't organized the prettiest way, but that's a skill that can be developed, with time and practice. The point of writing at ALL is to start a conversation. If you're not even willing to fucking start a conversation with your thoughts, with a discussion of someone else's opinion in your own understanding? Then there's no point to even submitting it.

I'd literally rather you submit a shitty hand-scribbled outline that I can barely read but that consists of your own thoughts. Maybe it's harsh, but I don't need you to open your mouth at all if only other people's voices comes out of it.

If you'd rather a computer speak for you, then there's just nothing to start any sort of conversation with, beyond how utterly disappointed I am that you completely missed the point of what you were even doing, period. You don't necessarily have to hold respect for me, or for the class, or even the material, but I would hope that you have a little more respect for yourself than that. I would very dearly hope that you think your own ideas are worth sharing with others, because I think they are, if you can coax them out of your head with a little thought and care.

If I cared about just getting 48 copies of what an LLM thinks a good essay about [topic] is, in my inbox, I could just as easily [if not more easily] ask ChatGPT myself to generate 48 different essays—that's not even hard. But it's also not what I want. I don't want to hear what a computer thinks [and dubious if it actually thinks and is able to transform ideas from given information, in its current state, or if that's a whenever sort of thing, but regardless]. I want to hear what YOU think. Speak YOUR words. If you're not willing to say YOUR words, it's exactly the same as if you never said anything at all.

And here we resolve to a massive underlying issue: Is the goal of creation a product, or the act of synthesis of thoughts and ideas + self-expression?

Because if all you care about is a file in a submissions box, to get a grade or to just make money off of it... then yeah, who cares? Fucking steal if you want to. Acknowledge that it's not fundamentally yours, but it's whatever, right?

However. If the goal of a community space [a classroom, fan spaces] is the integrity of self-contribution, of thought and the process of personal comprehension and individual synthesis and the joy of bringing fundamentally personal ideas into reality by the direct mechanism of human metaphorical hands [i.e. the act of creation], then.... I don't think that there can be a meaningful defense of people just.... not bringing their own voice to the table? Use of AI tends to not really match the ethos of these sorts of spaces, because the goal of AI generation is a marketable, consumable product rather than the labor of love to an idea. Again. Please have SLIGHTLY more self-respect than that.

If you personally didn't love an idea, a bit of writing, a song, a picture, enough to spark an idea that you loved enough to create something about it? That you loved enough to learn how to create what you wanted to make, about it? That you loved enough to ask other people about it and make a community of people to talk about it and enjoy it together (which is... what fandom is?).... That's a clear indicator to me that we don't love this thing to the same degree. You don't care about this thing or yourself enough to even bother adding your own fucking voice to a conversation, and if I wanted to hear what a logistical regression curve through nth-dimensional space, had to say about Good Omens, I honestly just would have fucking asked it myself.

do people have no shame anymore?

[helaintoloki]

Back to You

pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

warnings: mild language, pining, fluff

notes: my bucky and yelena brain rot is off the charts which is how this came about

summary: Yelena’s interest in y/n forces Bucky to confront his feelings for her as the Thunderbolts take refuge in her home

“I can’t thank you enough for this.”

“Well, this is definitely more interesting than whatever I had planned today,” you respond jokingly as you finish stitching closed the gash on Bucky’s pectoral. “I will say, if I knew I’d be having company I probably would have tidied up a bit around here.”

Both yours and Bucky’s gazes turn to the group of beaten down misfits that occupy your living room at the mention of company. The amount of people taking refuge in your home made it appear almost comically small, but you weren’t exactly new to having to take care of super heroes- or in this case antiheroes- on a whim like this.

Before Thanos and the Blip, you had been a good friend of Steve’s. As his neighbor across the hall who also happened to be a nurse, he tended to treat your apartment like his own personal health clinic after a particularly grueling day of protecting the city. You welcomed him in without question of course, and after some time he had begun bringing friends in need of patch jobs with him. This was how you met Sam and Natasha, and eventually Bucky. You were enthralled by the turmoil swimming in his eyes and his reserved nature, and your gentleness and willingness to help a total stranger like him with no reservation had stuck with Bucky forever.

You lost touch with them all after the Sokovia Accords debacle and being turned into dust for five years, but once the work of the infinity stones had been reversed and you were able to attempt a life at normalcy, Bucky and Sam had returned right back to your doorstep.

In the years that passed, you and Bucky had been able to form a close friendship. It didn’t happen without growing pains throughout the process of course, and it took time for the super soldier to open himself up to you so intimately, but you’d been able to reach a point where Bucky could come to you for anything and vice versa. So when he’d called five minutes before his arrival asking to seek shelter in your modest home, you immediately agreed without question.

“Alright, you’re good to go,” you inform him after smoothing out the bandage on his chest. Looking out to the rest of the group, you hold up your first aid kit and ask, “Anyone else need some TLC?”

You’re met with silence to which Bucky offers you a comforting pat on the shoulder before hopping off of your counter. The group looks more exhausted and defeated than anything, and he convinces you they’ll probably be fine.

“Well, in the meantime, would anyone like breakfast? I think I have some pancake mix around here somewhere,” you murmur absently, and this gets some heads to finally turn.

“Pancakes… would be nice,” Yelena offers with pursed lips and a shrug, trying to be inconspicuous as she obviously snoops through your things.

“Do you have eggs?” John voices tiredly. “I could really go for some scrambled eggs.”

“Eggs and pancakes… anything else?”

“I cannot have eggs without bacon,” Alexei notes thoughtfully only for Bucky to roll his eyes.

“You don’t have to cook all of that,” he tries to assure you only for you to shake your head in response.

“It’s really no problem, I’m just glad I went grocery shopping yesterday.”

You give Bucky a reassuring smile before disappearing into the kitchen, allowing him the chance to finally walk over and snatch the frame Yelena had been scrutinizing behind your back from her grasp.

“What are you doing?” He retorts in annoyance before setting it back down on the shelf. “We’re guests here, you can’t just touch all of her stuff.”

“She has a photo of my sister,” the blonde rebuffs defensively, “I have a right to touch it. Why does she have it?”

“Before she was my friend, she was Steve’s friend. He introduced her to Natasha, and they became friends too. Good friends.”

“Hmm,” she replies thoughtfully, finally easing up a bit as she takes in the information. “If Natasha considered her a friend, then I will too.”

“Yeah, I think she’s good on friends right now,” Bucky scoffs. Yelena raises a brow at his annoyance before a coy smile begins to form on her lips.

“Are you threatened by me, Barnes?” She prompts with a laugh, only doubling down when she notices the aggravated tick of his jaw. “Because it’s okay if you are, I understand. I mean, she is a beautiful woman, and I can see how much you love her-“

“Hold on a minute, what are you talking about?”

“Surely you cannot be this stupid,” Yelena affirms with a teasing smile that soon falls at Bucky’s flustered demeanor. “Or maybe you are.”

“I don’t love y/n,” Bucky says defensively, voice hushed to avoid any prying ears from listening to their conversation. “She’s just a good friend.”

“Well, if she’s just a good friend then you won’t mind if I go talk to her and tell her how much I love what she’s done with this place,” Yelena states plainly with a mischievous smile as she makes her way towards the kitchen only to be stopped by Bucky grabbing onto her arm.

“Don’t,” he warns with a scowl. From his spot on the couch, Alexei laughs.

“You are smart to stop her, Barnes,” he notes proudly, “my Yelena is quite the lady killer.”

“What’s the harm, Barnes? You obviously do not want to date this beautiful woman who has opened her home to us, so why can’t I?”

“If I admit I love her will you stop?” Bucky begs despite the clear aggravation in his tone. With her hands raised in surrender and lips pulled into a small frown, Yelena suspends her march towards the kitchen once Bucky finally relinquishes his hold on her arm. “Thank you.”

“Life is short, James. Do not let her sit and wait for you forever.”

Bucky lets out a long exhale through his nose at her words, and despite how much she annoys him, he knows she’s right. Bucky loves you and has always held a deep sense of admiration for the selfless woman who had taken him and Steve in without question despite the fact that it would get her into trouble with the government. You were one of the first to show him genuine kindness after spending years under Hydra’s thumb, and he’d never be able to forget that. You are his light in darkness, his saving grace, his confidant, and that’s why he’s so hesitant to fully bring you into his world by asking you to be his partner. Being friends keeps you at an arm’s length from the dangers of his life, but being the one he comes home to after a high stakes mission puts you in a whole new light to his enemies, and he’s not sure if he’s ready to put you through that just yet.

“Breakfast is on the table!” You call out from the kitchen, and Bucky watches with a wry grin as every person in the living room moves their aching bodies hastily into the dining room to get a chance at scoring some of your pancakes. You meet him shortly after and present him his own plate of pancakes, eggs and bacon to enjoy in peace away from the rest.

“You look like you have a lot on your mind so I figured you’d want to eat out here,” you explain with a careful smile before joining him on the couch. “You gonna be okay?”

“I don’t know if these guys are up for this,” he admits almost dejectedly, casting a glance towards the dining room where the Thunderbolts sit loudly bickering over the syrup bottle.

“Hey, as long as they have you there with them, I think they’ll be okay,” you comfort reassuringly, reaching forward to give his arm a tender squeeze.

“I really doubt that, but thanks,” Bucky responds with a weak chuckle, “you keep me sane.”

“It’s my speciality.”

A comfortable silence washes over you then as you meet each other’s tender gazes and enjoy the rare moment of peace shared between you both. Bucky longs to just pull you into his arms and hold you, but he resists and instead returns to enjoying his breakfast.

“We’ll be out of your hair as soon as they’re done eating,” Bucky reassures you only for you to give him an indifferent shrug.

“That’s fine, but can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Are you ever going to kiss me?” You prompt with an innocent smile, catching poor Bucky off guard as he momentarily chokes on his pancakes.

“What?” He splutters, fist thumping on his chest to help the food go down.

“I mean, maybe I’m reading it all wrong, but I feel like sometimes you look at me like you want to kiss me,” you explain simply, “and I wouldn’t mind if you did.”

“That obvious, huh?” He sighs with a bashful smile before setting his plate down on the coffee table.

“Yeah, well, that and also Yelena might have told me something on her way to the dining room,” you offer with an apologetic laugh.

“Oh, god, what did she say?”

“Something along the lines of if you never man up and decide to tell me how you feel that I should give her a call.”

“She’s a pain in my ass,” he grumbles irately, but his tone softens as he looks to you in remorse and continues, “but she’s right. You deserve to know how I feel about you.”

Smiling, you move closer to the super soldier so that you can curl into his side and rest your head upon his chest. His arms immediately come to wrap around your figure as he kisses the crown of your head, prompting you to let out a content sigh.

“We can figure out all the details when you get back from saving the world,” you assure him, “but just know that I love you, and I’ll be here waiting for you to come home.”

“Home,” Bucky sighs wistfully, already mourning your time together as he thinks about having to leave you behind. “I can promise you this- nothing is going to stop me from coming back to you.”

You look up to meet his tender gaze and are pleasantly surprised when he leans down to press a careful kiss to your lips. Your heart beats rapidly in your chest as you savor the moment you’ve been longing for ever since you met Bucky, and by the way he kisses you as if you are the air he needs to breathe, you think it’s safe to assume he feels the same.

His heart is yours, and as you tenderly embrace from the comfort of your couch, you can rest assured that to Bucky, home is where you are.

[delilahsturniolo]

୨୧ people watching . . . ravenclaw!matt x hufflepuff!reader

(this is just a oneshot, but i could make it an au in the future if you guys like it!)

hogwarts, a magical and mysterious place that held many stories of love and rivalry, but none quite like the one between you and matthew sturniolo.

you were a hufflepuff—a quiet, bookish girl with a heart as soft as a whisper. you absolutely adored the smell of paper and ink, the warmth of the hufflepuff common room, and the way sunlight shined through the greenhouse windows during your favorite class, herbology. something you didn’t enjoy however, was attention.

matthew, on the other hand, was a ravenclaw with a reputation. he was brilliant, charming, and—unfortunately for you, utterly adored by nearly every girl at hogwarts. his deep blue eyes held the mysteries of the universe, his intelligence and wittiness made professors smile, and his kindness made people swoon over him like there was no tomorrow. there wasn’t a single girl who didn’t at least flirt with him once or have a crush on him.

except you. or . . . so you gaslight yourself to believe.

you did like him. a lot, actually. but you always told yourself that you were far too shy to ever say anything to him. after all, why would matthew sturniolo, the most sought-after boy in school, notice you? a lame, quiet, and reserved hufflepuff?

yet, to your surprise—he did.

It started in the library. you always sat at the farthest table near the restricted section at the back, where it was quietest. it was a quiet evening to say the least, you head was buried into a book as you studied for your care of magical creatures class. when suddenly, matt strolled in. his head was up high, his blue tie hung around his neck, his brown hair looked slightly disheveled from a recent quidditch match.

“mind if i sit here?” he asked, setting his books down before you could even process what was happening. your heart pounded with anxiety and anticipation, nodding at him.

however, this wasn’t the only time this had happened. over the next few weeks, this became a routine. matt would show up, sit beside you, and strike up quiet conversations. he often asked about your favorite books, interests, and more. matt listened to every word you said. he was good at that, he was genuinely curious about you, never once growing bored of your timid responses. he didn’t really see an issue in getting to know you. you found yourself relax even more each time the two of you would interact.

but, there was a problem. every girl in hogwarts noticed the two of you.

they whispered in the corridors, giggling about you in hushed tones. they sent you sharp, and mean glances when they saw you walking beside him after class. some girls were even bold enough to ask matt directly why he spent so much time with you when he could have anyone else.

you eventually decided to just stop speaking to matt, you thought it was for the best honestly, you didn’t want people to hate you, after all. so, you ignored matt when he approached you in the hallways. you never sat in your usual seat in the library, you walked with someone else to class.

matt noticed how distant and cold you were being towards him, without an explanation. he felt confused, and hurt. why were you suddenly ignoring him? a few days ago you both talked to each other 24/7, what changed? those were the types of thoughts running through matt’s head.

one night, you were sitting on a wooden bench near the black lake, your knees tucked into your chest as you watched the reflection of the moon on the water. you haven’t spoken to matt in a week, and everything felt different, but not in a good way.

“y/n?”

you turned your head, startled. matt stood there, hands in his pockets, looking more uncertain than you had ever seen him.“you’ve been avoiding me.” his voice was quiet, but it held a weight of pain, and hurt in it as well.

you swallowed hard. “i—i haven’t been.” you lied right through your teeth.

he raised a brow. ravenclaws could always see through lies. “you ever gonna stop bullshitting with me and tell me the truth?” matt scoffed in disbelief. you sighed heavily. “it’s just… people are talking. they don’t understand why you’d want to be around…someone like me, y’know?”

matt sat beside you. “let them talk,” he said simply.

you blinked at him, speechless. “what?”

“i don’t care what anyone at this stupid school thinks, y/n. i like spending time with you. and if you’d let me, i’d like to spend even more time with you.”

your breath caught, you were in disbelief from what he was saying to you. “really…? you…would?”

matt chuckled. “of course i would. you’re kind, brilliant, and you don’t care about silly things like popularity. you’re real, and genuine. those other girls? they’re mean, and probably only want to get with me for their reputation. i know you, i know you aren’t like that. it’s…quite refreshing actually.”

you felt warmth spread throughout your chest.

for the first time in a long time, you smiled, you truly and genuinely smiled at him. as matt smiled back, you realized that maybe, just maybe, love wasn’t only reserved for the loud, the bold, or the ones who demanded attention. sometimes, love found the quiet ones, too. you realized in this moment, you didn’t need to change yourself to find love. all you did was be yourself, live authentically, and love found it’s way to you. a fucking ravenclaw, too. who on earth would’ve known?

taglist

© delilahsturniolo do not copy, re use, or modify any of my works.

a/n 💌: hiii!! i know this is superrr different from what i usually write, i’ve never written anything about harry potter before so i’m really truly sorry if anything is unrealistic, i haven’t watched harry potter in years and lowk had to do some research in order to write this. let me know if you guys want more!

[rafeyssugar]

We all know that Rafe is the "touch her and I'll kill you" type but what about Reader who matches energy? Rafe at a party chilling while Reader goes and gets a drink and he gets approached and he warns her "touch me and she'll kill you" but the girl thinks he's joking until Reader comes back and shit gets started

matching energy

the party was a blur of loud music, flashing lights, and the smell of alcohol in the air. rafe was leaning against the porch, his eyes scanning the crowd, his usual smirk in place.

then she showed up.

a girl, clearly too bold for her own good, stepped up to rafe, hand brushing against his chest. he barely looked at her, already over the attention she thought she could grab from him.

“hey, rafe,” she said in a flirty tone, eyes glinting with mischief. “what’s a guy like you doing all alone?”

he didn’t even glance down at her, his expression cool. “can i help you?”

the girl smiled, moving closer, her fingers trailing down his chest, taking a liberty that made rafe tense slightly.

“just thought we could have some fun,” she purred, her hand lingering for a moment too long.

his patience snapped.

without even looking, rafe muttered, “touch me, and she’ll kill you.”

the girl laughed, not taking him seriously at all. “really? you think she’ll kill me?” she scoffed, not getting the gravity of his words.

you had just stepped out from inside, drink in hand, when you spotted the girl hanging onto rafe, her hand still on him. you didn’t need to hear her words, but you could see the way she was getting too close, too comfortable.

you moved toward them without hesitation, your eyes narrowing. you could see the situation for what it was.

the girl didn’t seem to notice you at first, but when she looked up and saw the look on your face, she raised an eyebrow. “what? you think you can tell me what to do?”

“yeah,” you shot back coldly, “i do.”

you didn’t waste any time. without another word, you shoved the girl’s hand off rafe’s chest, making her stumble back a few steps.

she stood up straighter, clearly pissed now, and lunged at you. “you think you can touch me and get away with it?” she snarled.

you didn’t flinch.

before she could make another move, you grabbed her wrist, twisting it behind her back with a sharp motion, pulling her toward the ground.

the crowd around you started to take notice, but you were too focused on the girl’s struggle to care. she tried to fight you off, kicking at your legs, but you weren’t having it.

you forced her to the ground, her face slamming into the dirt as you stood over her, breathing heavily from the quick adrenaline of the fight. she was still trying to crawl away, but you didn’t let her.

grabbing her by the back of her shirt, you yanked her up again, shoving her into a nearby trash can, your voice dangerously low. “don’t ever touch him again.”

she froze, clearly realizing the seriousness of the situation. but her pride wouldn’t let her back down, and she tried to lunge at you once more.

big mistake.

this time, you didn’t hesitate. you moved faster than her, grabbing her by the throat, slamming her against the wall. the air was thick with tension, and you could hear the shock in the crowd’s whispers.

she gasped, eyes wide, struggling to breath, but before she could make another sound, you tightened your grip, your glare cold as ice. “i warned you.”

her body dropped like a fish.

you turned to rafe, who was still leaning against the porch, his arms crossed, watching you with a mix of awe and something else you couldn’t quite read.

he didn’t even seem surprised when you stood there, your posture steady, your breath evening out.

“not bad,” rafe said, his voice quiet, like he was still processing what had just happened.

you met his eyes, your own still cold, but you couldn’t help the faint smirk that tugged at your lips. “i’m just getting started.”

you walked back to him, the crowd still in a buzz, but you didn’t care. you’d just proven a point.

and from the look in rafe’s eyes, he didn’t plan on forgetting it anytime soon.

[kiszjuli]

・── love or leave .ᐟ (L.TY)

(태용) ; fem!reader x lee taeyong

──in which love has always felt like a risk you’re not willing to take. but taeyong was someone who makes it feel safe, maybe even possible. falling for him was never part of the plan, and you don’t know how to let him stay.

genre. angst. romance. self sabotage. ; tags. bittersweet romance. slightly suggestive. patient!taeyong x guarded!reader. emotional conflict. ; w.c 3.6k

you’re not completely sure when taeyong became part of your daily routine. it wasn’t something you planned, wasn’t something you consciously let happen. but somehow, he’s just… there. always.

it starts with small things.

texting turns into late-night calls, where his voice is the last thing you hear before you fall asleep. casual hangouts turn into hours spent in his or your apartment, legs tangled on his couch as he absentmindedly traces shapes on your knee while talking about everything and nothing. the way he looks at you lingers longer than it should, and sometimes—only sometimes—you catch yourself staring back.

you don’t talk about what this is. you don’t ask if it means anything.

but you feel it.

one evening, you’re at his place, half-draped over his bed, scrolling through your phone while he sits on the floor, leaning against the edge of the mattress.

“you’ve been quiet today.” his voice is soft, but it still pulls you from your thoughts.

you blink, turning your head to look at him. “just tired.”

he hums, unconvinced. “tired, or overthinking?”

you huff a small laugh, tossing your phone onto the bed and sitting up. “since when did you become an expert on me?”

taeyong tilts his head, considering. “since you started letting me in.”

his words shouldn’t make your heart skip, but they do.

there’s something in the way he says it, like it’s the simplest truth in the world. and maybe it is. because you have let him in. more than anyone else.

it’s dangerous. and you don’t particularly like it.

but when he shifts onto the bed beside you, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face, you don’t pull away.

not yet.

—

the first time taeyong kisses you, you let him.

you don’t think about what it means, don’t let yourself process how natural it feels when his lips move against yours, slow and careful, like he’s making sure you have every chance to pull away. but you don’t. instead, you let yourself sink into him, let yourself get lost in the warmth of his hands cradling your face, in the quiet way he breathes your name like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

for once, you don’t overthink. you just let it happen.

and maybe that’s the problem. because in the days that follow, you realize that one moment, one night of letting yourself fall, has the power to undo everything you’ve built to protect yourself.

you’ve never been the type for relationships. too messy, too complicated, too much of a risk. feelings were unpredictable, and love? love was just another word for inevitable disappointment. you had learned that lesson before, and you weren’t about to relearn it now.

but taeyong makes it hard.

he doesn’t push, doesn’t demand more than you’re willing to give. instead, he lingers; waiting, watching, showing up when you least expect him but somehow always when you need him. he’s steady, unwavering in his patience, in the way he lets you keep your distance but never lets you forget he’s there.

and that scares you more than anything.

because if there’s one thing you’ve always been good at, it’s running. but taeyong?

he’s the first person who makes you want to stop.

—

the room is dim, the quiet only broken by the low music in the background and the occasional sound of traffic from outside. you and taeyong were sitting close on the couch, your shoulders brushing, your legs just barely touching. it’s intimate without being obvious, the kind of closeness that feels more like an unspoken invitation than anything else.

his gaze is focused on you, a little too intense, but not in a way that makes you want to pull away. Instead, it pulls you in. you find yourself looking at his lips for just a second too long, and when you catch him staring back, the air between you shifts.

“you’re thinking about something,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost teasing.

you try to act normal, shifting in your seat to pretend like nothing’s changed. “just lost in thought.”

he doesn’t buy it. his hand moves toward you, slow and careful like always, until his fingers lightly graze the back of your hand. the touch is brief but enough to make your pulse spike. you’re frozen for a split second, but then you meet his gaze, and there’s no mistaking the desire behind it.

“you sure? you don’t seem like you’re lost in thought,” he says, his voice quieter now.

before you can answer, he shifts just a little closer, his knee brushing against yours. it was subtle, but it sends a shiver down your spine. he’s so close, you can feel the heat radiating off his body, his presence surrounding you in a way that feels both comforting and dangerous.

his hand, still resting near yours, moves just a fraction closer, his fingers lightly brushing the inside of your wrist. the touch is soft, testing, and you feel a tightness in your chest. you look up at him, heart pounding, and for a brief moment, you wonder if he feels the same pressure building between you.

“you’re making it hard to focus,” he murmurs, his voice almost a whisper.

his other hand reaches out, his fingers gently tracing the line of your jaw, his touch featherlight. you breathe in sharply, your chest tightening at the intimate gesture.

“taeyong…” your voice is barely audible, more of a breath than anything else.

he leans in, his lips hovering just above yours, but he doesn’t kiss you. not yet. instead, he waits, and the space between you feels charged, filled with all the things neither of you is saying.

“i don’t want to rush,” he says, his lips almost brushing against your skin as he speaks. “but i can’t stay this close to you and not feel what you’re making me feel.”

your breath hitches at his words. his hand moves down your arm tenderly, until his fingers curl around your wrist. you feel like you can’t breathe, like the world outside this bubble between you two doesn’t matter anymore.

he leans in just a little more, his nose brushing against yours, and in that moment, you’re not sure who’s waiting for who to make the next move.

the space between you two feels electric now. your heartbeat picks up as taeyong’s gaze lingers on you—eyes intense, searching yours as if trying to read every unspoken word. his hand, still resting on your wrist, feels like it’s grounding you, but at the same time, it’s pulling you closer to him in a way you can’t ignore.

the closeness, the undeniable tension, makes everything seem slower.

his voice is low, almost a whisper. “i’m not pressuring you. but i won’t pretend i don’t want you. do you feel that too?”

your chest tightens at his words, the heat pooling in your stomach. it’s so easy to deny what you feel, to tell yourself it’s all just a passing moment. but the way he looks at you, the way his fingers move so gently against your skin, makes you feel like there’s no turning back.

you meet his gaze, swallowing hard. “and if i do?” the words feel like they slip out before you can even think.

taeyong doesn’t hesitate. he inches closer, his lips brushing against yours as he speaks, his voice a mixture of temptation and certainty. “then don’t fight it.”

and just like that, you stop thinking. you don’t resist. the moment you let go of all your self-control, his lips are on yours, soft at first, like he’s testing you, waiting to see if you’ll pull away.

but you don’t. your hands reach up on their own, fingers tangling in his dark hair as you pull him closer, deepening the kiss. the world around you fades, the only thing you’re aware of now is the way your bodies align, the way your heart beats in rhythm with his.

taeyong’s hand moves from your wrist to your back, pulling you flush against him, and you can feel the warmth of his body, the way he’s just as eager for this moment as you are. he groans into the kiss, and it makes your stomach flip, that sound of raw desire, the heat building between you both.

when you break the kiss, both of you are panting lightly, your faces close enough to feel each other’s breath.

“are you sure?” taeyong’s voice is rougher now, like he’s trying to keep his composure, but you can see the desperation in his eyes.

you look at him, really look at him, and in that moment, something shifts. you know what you’re doing, what you’re about to let happen. it’s no longer about fighting it, about keeping your distance. it’s about giving into what’s in front of you—the intensity, the connection, the undeniable pull.

you nod, almost breathlessly. “i’m sure.”

and that’s all it takes. taeyong closes the distance again, pulling you to him, this time with urgency. his hands are everywhere, slipping under your shirt, moving to the small of your back, holding you like he never wants to let go. you let him, leaning into every touch, every kiss, as the barrier between you crumbles completely.

in this moment, you stop thinking about the consequences. you stop thinking about the future. all that matters is here, right now, with him.

—

it’s been two months.

two months since you let taeyong in, since you stopped overthinking for just one night and let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, you could have something real with him. his touch had felt like certainty, like something you could trust. his lips on yours, the way he held you so carefully yet so firmly, made you think that maybe you didn’t have to keep running.

but you did.

it started slow at first; little subtle things. unanswered texts, turning the other way when you spotted him in the hallway, pretending not to hear when he said your name. you told yourself it wasn’t intentional, that you were just busy, distracted, focused on more important things. but deep down, you knew better. you were retreating, putting up walls faster than he could break them down.

taeyong notices, of course he does. you see it in the way his smile falters when you barely acknowledge him, in the way his fingers twitch like he wants to reach for you but stops himself. he’s trying to be patient, to give you space, but you can feel the weight of his unspoken frustration. he doesn’t understand why you’re slipping away—not when things were good, not when he knows you felt it too.

but that’s exactly why you have to pull away. because it was good. too good. and good things don’t last, not for you.

so you shut him out before he can get any closer, before he can prove you wrong. before he can make you believe that love doesn’t always end in leaving.

but the worst part?

he’s still trying. and you don’t know how much longer you can pretend you don’t want him to.

—

in the beginning, you try to ignore it. the way taeyong makes you feel safe. the way he remembers the smallest details about you, like how you can’t sleep without background noise or how you tap your fingers against your thigh when you’re lost in thought. the way he looks at you like he’s already decided you’re someone worth staying for.

but the closer he gets, the more you feel the panic set in.

it’s not his fault. taeyong doesn’t do anything wrong. if anything, he does everything right. and that’s the problem. he makes it too easy, too safe, too real. and real means something to lose.

so your only choice was to pull away like you always did.

you first take a little longer to reply to his messages. you cancel plans with flimsy excuses, blaming school, work, exhaustion—anything but the real reason. you turn your head when his hand brushes yours, pretend not to notice when he hesitates before letting it fall back to his side.

but taeyong isn’t stupid. he notices.

“you’re avoiding me.” it’s not a question when he finally says it, standing in front of you with a look you can’t quite decipher—somewhere between hurt and frustration.

you swallow hard, willing yourself to meet his gaze. “i’m just busy.”

he doesn’t buy it. “you weren’t too busy before.”

there’s no accusation in his tone, but that almost makes it worse. he’s not mad. he’s confused. he doesn’t understand why you’re slipping away when he’s done nothing but be there.

you want to tell him the truth—that you don’t do relationships, that letting someone in means giving them the power to hurt you, that it’s easier to leave before you get left.

but you don’t.

instead, you give him the same practiced smile you’ve given everyone who’s ever tried to get too close.

“things change, taeyong.”

and with that, you turn and walk away—ignoring the way your chest aches, ignoring the fact that he doesn’t try to stop you.

—

it’s late when you finally drag yourself back to your apartment, exhaustion clinging to your bones. you barely have the energy to pull your keys from your bag before the door swings open from the inside.

taeyong stands in the doorway, arms crossed, lips pressed together in something between relief and exasperation.

“do you know what time it is?” he asks.

you blink, startled, still processing the fact that he’s here. “how did you get in?”

“your roommate let me in hours ago. i was about to call the cops.”

you roll your eyes, kicking off your shoes. “dramatic.”

he doesn’t laugh. doesn’t move from the doorway as you step inside. instead, he watches you, gaze tracing over your face, your slumped shoulders.

“you didn’t answer my texts.”

you sigh, rubbing at your temple. “i had a long day. my phone died.”

taeyong exhales, running a hand through his hair. “you could’ve told me you were staying late. i was worried.”

the words make your stomach twist, in the way they always do when he says things like this. like he cares.

you avoid his eyes, moving toward the couch, but he catches your wrist before you get too far. “have you eaten?”

you shake your head, barely noticing the way his fingers tighten for just a second before he lets go.

“sit down.” he doesn’t give you a choice, nudging you toward the couch before disappearing into the kitchen.

you don’t protest. mostly because you’re too tired, but also because it’s him. and when it’s taeyong, letting him take care of you doesn’t feel like a weakness. it just felt like breathing.

a few minutes later, he returns with a bowl of steaming ramen, setting it down on the table before crouching in front of you. he looks at you for a moment before his gaze settles on your legs. his hands find your ankles, gently pulling your legs into his lap as he starts rolling up the hem of your sweatpants.

“what are you—”

“your knee,” he says, examining the small bruising cut near your shin. “how’d this happen?”

you blink, barely remembering the way even hurt it earlier. “tae, it’s nothing.”

he clicks his tongue, reaching for the first aid kit he must’ve pulled from your bathroom. “you always say that.”

you watch as he dabs at the bruise, his touch careful, like he thinks you’ll break if he’s not. the room is quiet, save for the sound of the rain against the window.

after a moment, he glances up, something softer in his gaze now. “you have to stop running yourself into the ground.”

you huff a laugh. “says the guy who forgets to eat when he’s working on something.”

he smiles, small but fond. “yeah, but i have you to remind me.”

your chest tightens. because sometimes, in moments like this, when he’s looking at you like this, you almost let yourself believe it could be easy.

but you know better than that.

—

falling for taeyong was never part of the plan.

it wasn’t supposed to happen—not to you, not with him. you had always been good at keeping your distance, at keeping things casual and untangled. love was messy, love was unpredictable, and you didn’t do things that had the power to hurt you

“you act like you don’t care, but i think you do,” he had said once, leaning against your doorframe, eyes warm with something you refused to name. “i think you just don’t know what to do with it.”

you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “i don’t do relationships, taeyong.”

“yeah?” he tilted his head, lips twitching. “then what do you do?”

you opened your mouth, but the words didn’t come as easily as they used to.

because by then, it wasn’t so simple anymore.

it was him showing up outside your class just because. it was the way he remembered the little things you told him, the things most people let slip through the cracks. it was how he never pushed too hard, even when he knew you were running—he just stayed close enough to catch you if you fell.

and you hated it.

hated how good it felt. hated that it made you want things you’d spent years convincing yourself weren’t meant for you.

so you buried it. ignored the pull, brushed it off, acted like none of it mattered.

but taeyong saw through it. he always did.

“one day, you’re gonna have to stop running,” he told you, voice quieter than usual, gaze steady. “and i just hope i’m still here when you do.”

you laughed it off back then. called him dramatic. but the weight of his words settled somewhere deep, in the part of you that wondered if he was right.

and now, standing in the rain, his words cutting through the air like something final, you realize.

that day might already be here.

the rain starts slow. soft droplets pattering against the pavement, catching the glow of streetlights. you barely notice it at first, too caught up in the suffocating weight of your own thoughts, in the way your hands shake as you cross your arms over your chest.

taeyong stands a few steps away, his expression unreadable, but his eyes are the only thing you can focus on. dark, searching, pleading.

“you’re really doing this?” his voice is quiet, but it still cuts through the night air.

you don’t answer right away. because if you do, if you try to say anything, you might break.

taeyong exhales sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. “you can’t keep doing this. pushing me away, acting like i don’t—like we don’t—matter.”

your throat tightens. “taeyong, you knew what this was from the start.”

his eyes darken. “no. i knew what you said it was. that doesn’t mean i ever believed you.”

you turn your head, staring out at the street, the neon reflections in the puddles. you wish he didn’t know you so well, wish he couldn’t see the cracks forming in your walls.

it begins to rain a little harder, your clothes darkening with the water droplets.

“you always do this,” he continues, stepping closer. “every time things start to feel real, you pull back. you tell me it’s nothing, that it’s not serious, that we shouldn’t—” he stops himself, running a hand through his damp hair. “but then you look at me like this, and i know you don’t mean it.”

your breath stutters.

because he’s right. you don’t mean it. but saying that would change everything.

“i told you from the beginning that i don’t do relationships.”

taeyong lets out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “yeah? and yet here we are.”

here. the place you never let yourself reach. the part where things start to matter, where things get messy and complicated, where someone has the power to hurt you.

you’ve spent years convincing yourself that love was never meant for you; not in the way other people experience it. it’s unpredictable, uncontrollable. a force that pulls people in, only to let them crash. you’ve seen it too many times before. you’ve felt it before, the sting of expectations unraveling, the weight of good things turning sour.

so you set rules. you keep your distance. you keep things easy, temporary, untangled. and taeyong was supposed to be the same.

but he isn’t. he never was.

taeyong is patient, steady in a way that makes your chest ache. he looks at you like you’re something worth waiting for, something worth believing in. and that scares you more than anything.

because what happens when he realizes you don’t know how to be what he needs? that you don’t know how to hold onto something without eventually ruining it?

“if you’re scared, just say it,” he says, voice softer now, almost pleading. “if you don’t know what you want, tell me. but don’t stand there and pretend like i’m the only one feeling this.”

you swallow hard. you want to say something, anything, but the words won’t come.

so you do what you always do.

you take a step back. just one. but it’s enough.

taeyong’s jaw tightens. the rain is falling harder now, soaking into his sweater, dripping from his hair. still, he doesn’t move.

“if you walk away now,” he says, quieter this time, steadier, “don’t expect me to still be here when you come back.”

your breath catches.

because for the first time, you realize—he really might mean it.

—

▸ no longer valentine’s day so here comes the angst :)

▸ may or may not make a part two….only if you guys want it !

[shipper4everships]

BuckTommy Fluffebruary: Day 16

~AU: didn’t know they were dating~

It all started by chance. Buck had just started his service at 118th station, while Tommy was in the process of transferring to station 217. Tommy’s transfer was delayed, so they began working together. Tommy was usually a composed and somewhat introverted guy, not quick to let people close, but Buck was so sincere and open that Tommy let his guard down.

They became friends, and Tommy showed Buck some of his secret tricks that helped him on the job, which later came in handy for Buck on calls. 

"Hey, you only told me about them in my second year here - why does the rookie get such privileges?" Eddie asked teasingly. 

On their days off, they sometimes went to the gym together or invited each other to the bar for a beer and to watch a match. 

"I thought you weren't very into basketball before, Buck. Something changed?" Chim in with a grin. Buck just waved off the question.

When it came time for Tommy to complete his transfer to station 217, he briefly thought about refusing it because he was afraid their communication would end. But Buck turned out to be better than he could have imagined and supported Tommy’s decision to transfer.

"If flying is your dream, then you have to follow it!" 

Tommy couldn’t argue with that.

Now they didn’t see each other as often, but they were always in touch. There were nights when they both stayed up until morning, texting or talking on the phone about everything under the sun.

"Buck, you look awful... You were up all night talking to Tommy again, should I tell him to stop messing up your schedule?" Hen said, half-seriously, half-joking.

"He’s not messing anything up, I called him first!" Buck blurted out, then realized what he’d said.

They continued meeting occasionally at the bar, but it became harder to sync up due to shift changes. One day, Tommy suggested Buck come over to his place for a couple of hours so they could see each other, and Buck gladly accepted.

They kept visiting each other to watch movies or cook together. Until one day, the moment happened: Buck cuddled up to Tommy while they were watching a horror movie, and Tommy turned to him and kissed him in the dim light of the room. To Buck’s surprise, he didn’t pull away. On the contrary, he eagerly joined in.

Since that evening, not much changed between them, except that their texts became more flirtatious, their touches more frequent, and that kiss on the couch wasn’t the last, but rather the first in a series of others.

They wished each other safety before every shift, and it was always the case, but now it felt different - as though there was something more behind that wish, as if they started caring for each other more.

Buck wasn’t sure how to feel about it, but he was afraid of losing the connection that was growing between them, so he decided to keep everything between the two of them and see where it could lead.

Was it really a surprise when, not long after, they slept together for the first time in Buck’s loft? They didn’t talk about it or anything that happened between them, but Buck lay in bed in Tommy’s arms the next morning, feeling like he was exactly where he needed to be.

Maddy called him a few days later and invited him to dinner at the Buckley-Han house, and Buck enthusiastically agreed.

"Buck, I just wanted to check… if you want, you don’t have to come alone," Maddy said cautiously.

"…What do you mean?" Buck was caught off guard by her words.

"Maybe you’ll introduce us to your boyfriend?"

"Boyfriend?" Buck asked, glancing at Tommy, who was sitting across the table from him. Tommy had overheard Buck’s part of the conversation and looked at him. In his eyes, Buck saw curiosity and something more… maybe hope?

Buck ran through their relationship over the past few months in his mind, and everything in his head and heart finally fell into place.

"Yeah, you’re right." Buck smiled into the phone. "Set another place at the table because I’m bringing my boyfriend." Buck said those words and caught Tommy’s answering smile.

When he hung up, Buck leaned across the table, and warm lips met him halfway.

He wasn’t sure where this would lead, but now he knew. Now he would do it right. @bucktommyfluffebruary 💗

[ap0cryph0n-in-space]

SPOILERS FOR THE SEASON 1 FINALE

CHECK THYSELF AND ENSURE THOU HAST READ THE FINALE, ALL YE WHO ENTER HERE

Hello. So Buddy’s a key.

Prepare for more mind blowing never-before-heard statements such as that last one.

As we can already assume, Buddy was not always a key: he was human before being put through a (dubiously ethical) process that turned him into a key, presumably by whoever the “Old Man” of Ex-Libris is. He and Violet were working together to turn him human again, and we don’t know exactly what they need to do that yet.

So far what we do know is Buddy’s been specifically following Chase into the books: not the keys themselves, or Deacon and Prunella.

Bearing that in mind, I would like to propose that in order for Buddy to stop being a key, he needs a candidate to take his place. And for some reason outside of his control, the most likely candidate is Chase.

Not sure why exactly, maybe Chase’s personality matches the character key he would correspond to— which is proobably our resident Hero key, Goldie. I’ll get back to that, just a sec—

Punko said a couple of things in the season finale Q&A that caught my attention, mostly about Buddy’s irises being drawn differently from the human characters. It turns out they’re moonstones with a smooth cabochon cut instead of the OG keys’ faceted gem irises. But I’ll get back to that too, hold your horse gods—

OK, Chase being compatible with Goldie. The other thing was when Punko mentioned that in the book world, key holders tend to get sorted into either hero or side-character based on how much they take control of their life choices. Specifically that Deacon’s arc the whole season thus far has been about becoming the hero of his own life; when asking for things to go his way doesn’t cut it and especially when his friends and family are in danger, Deacon learned he needed to make things go his way himself and just take action. (Can relate…)

When Buddy said Chase “might be useful after all,” in episode 23, it was after Chase had made so much craziness happen in a book about cats trying to “Parent Trap” Stagtown cameos, that it was going fully off the rails- and through quick thinking and sheer trying things he got the book to a satisfying and frankly more entertaining conclusion. You know, Chase is just like that.

My guess for how Buddy needs to swap places with Chase is he just needs Chase and Goldie to be in the same book together before he initiates something on his end, and then Chase would… merge with Goldie in the book? Which makes me worried for Goldie too, if that’s what does indeed happen😥Idk. (Maybe that’s part of why Buddy talks like the most Disney Villain mustache-twirling theater nerd of all time, too, his mind’s been combined with the Villain key’s to become Nox.)

Buddy didn’t know that they had found Goldie until Prunella revealed herself, finally he has everything he needs, and I think he was hurt enough to unhappily consider going through with the plan- but then of course drama happened and they came to an understanding in the book and it was GREAT🥲

Still, even though Buddy’s decided he won’t go through with it, I have a feeling that it will end up happening somehow. Because Drama.

But enough of that, all that theory up there? Who cares, whatever, that’s all build up for my REAL point:

Buddy’s key form has a moon theme, and moonstone cabochon eyeballs,

Thus I propose

Get ready

You’ll never believe it

Chase with

☀️SUN☀️ STONE YORBS

(My god, what a feat of Logic)

Oh!! Oh oh, and Yes, the metallic striations (usually hematite?) can appear teal, pink, and yellow AKA Chase’s colors as a card-carrying 1980’s vaporwave pop punk lad— it’s almost like it was planned or something 😈

*maniacal cackling

ROCKS!!!!

[babyjinsu]

[r/situationships] i don't know where i stand with this girl.

003 of 002 !! ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

[r/situationships] [UPDATE] i don't know where i stand with this girl. posted by u/ddori • 3h ago

hey everyone!! so last week i made a post asking whether im in a situationship or not with a girl, and i guess you can say...... drum rolls please.

im not!!!! i am not a situationship nor am i just her friend! i know what we are now.

we went out a few days after that to get a midnight dessert at a street stall, and firstly, she didn't deny (again) when the dessert auntie asked if we were together, in fact, she asked the auntie if we do look good together. we do, we totally do!

then, after that we kinda just walked around the area and eventually settled at the park to finish our desserts. we didn't do a lot, we just talked about universities, and talked about our friends; when i asked her what does she think about me? generally, like as a friend. we asked each other those kind of questions a lot, so its not weird for me to suddenly bring it up.

this time however, she went quiet for a sec and i thought i probably shldnt hv asked. like i probably messed up, but then she said, "i see you as someone really important to me." and my heart lowkey stopped lol for a second. so i pushed the answer a little by asking her important how? like financial wise or what? (as a joke ok) and then she just laughed.

she said that itd be hard to see a future where im not there. and im like oh okay what the hell hahahehhdcejfnwjejdeb I TWEAKED genuinely like i felt like exploding. and she asked about her-- like my turn to tell her what i think about her.

so obviously my brain was short-circuited because what do you even say to that, and then being asked to tell your crush what you feel towards her? i tried to play it cool so i told her that she knows, and she was like, "but i wanna hear it.." like yes maam i will tell you.

i told her the truth, that she's my favourite person ever, and that like her, i cant imagine a future where shes not in there. she replied with a thats nice, im hoping youd say that. and then she sat on the swing next to mine and like omg i dont know how to explain it but you know swings can move right? yeah she (sitting down) shuffled herself closer, the swing swaying with her movement until she was close enough to lean her head on my shoulder (please visualise).

we just sat there like that for a couple of minutes and for a moment i thought that i dont care whatever comes after that, situationship or whatever. im just happy that i can be by her side.

but then she asked me, if my future where she's in, is she still his friend?

and my brain just went white noise and my heart dropped and butterflies were filling up my stomach. and i didnt even get to process my sentence, because my mouth just said, "im hoping youd be something more than just my friend."

LIKE haheehebc yeah thats what i said. thats what i said and it worked because she just nodded her head and very nonchalantly, replied that she hopes the same too.

at that point, i didnt care about anything anymore because i straight up asked her if i can be her boyfriend and she said yes and that she's been waiting so i told her i, too, had been waiting LOL.

so yeah fellas... no more confusion, no more overthinking, no more "are we what are we arent we". i know where we stand now, i know who i am in her life, she knows who she is in my life and it feels so so so so so good. im really, really glad this happened and i am still losing my mind over this.

also, her/our friends had always known about our crush on each other but they just kept it a secret to see how long we'd stay crushing.

thanks a lot everyone! maybe this can be a sign for you too.

Top Comments:

[u/1999_warrior] aw op! this was very wholesome to read. congratulations!

[u/cranberryjuice] your story just made me convince that the girl im talking to is not playing with me! 9 months friendship going strong!

[u/dr4g0nf7y replying to u/cranberryjuice] brother... we hate to break it to you.....

[u/jadedstone] the way op was like dont care whatever happens next and then confessed is so funny to me lol

[u/tapiocapearl] i knew it!! congratulations op!! you both sound very cute together. wishing you everlasting happiness.

[u/ithinkisee] taking this as a sign to confess to my friend

💭 yayyyyy second fic done xd. aaaa this was so cute hdjinebche hope u guys enjoy it xoxo!!!!!!!

[chiye21]

i think one of the things that really gets to me is how, despite vash and knives referring to knives as the older one, there is just that one key moment where the narrative treats vash as the elder. and its when rem tells him to take care of knives right before she goes off to her death.

take care of your brother. you're the only one he has left. take care of your brother. you have to protect him in my place. take care of your brother.

(but who will take care of him?)

[goldkirk]

I get that everyone wants TikTok back but do we understand how bad it is that it’s happening the way it’s happening. Like we do understand how much of a horrifically choreographed process this is to boost and benefit Trump right. Can we all take a second to pause and go “hey wow something’s been getting fucked up and fishy for days now with Trump being turned into the hero about this even by the TikTok company themselves all of a sudden”?? (more chatter in the tags re tech companies and authoritarian autocrats)

[navree]

Incorrect, the fact that Biden has dropped out and a candidate with history of supporting medicare for all and being more receptive to a ceasefire in the I/P conflict has made me go from "I cannot morally support the Democratic nominee" to "I am voting for the Democratic nominee despite the fact she isn't perfect in every respect." I'm really happy this played out. The Dems for the most part abandoned the old Obama platform and it feels like its possible an actual progressive agenda could come to pass in my lifetime.

Kamala 2024!

If you weren't going to vote Democratic in this election before Biden dropped out you're a dorkass loser who does not care about any of the issues you're yammering about here and also a fundamentally bad person, and I hope you get run over by a bus.

But you got one thing right in all of this gibberish, Kamala 2024.

[dykedvonte]

Honestly I see Jimmy's refusal to put Curly out of his misery less about his weird feelings of envy or his delusions but the fact Curly is all but stated to be a shield to Jimmy from his actions and people seeing the worst in him.

The only characters that Jimmy really interacts with one on one before the crash are Curly and Anya, two individuals he has wildly different relationships with. It's likely that Curly really did most of the talking between them as the pilots and the rest of the crew as staff. They didn't know of Jimmy's more reprehensible behaviors cause they never really had the chance to and Jimmy is subconsciously aware. If they had disliked him more than Anya would have told Swansea earlier or even Daisuke when things got really bad.

It's why he takes the immediate opportunity to blame Curly; He's the shield. He's saved Jimmy's ass more times than he can count and more times than Jimmy would ever admit. Even when he can't really do it anymore, he mentally shields himself from his own faults by putting Curly between them. Letting Curly die puts too much on him because he doesn't know how to function without a safety net.

In the end Curly only lives because Jimmy needs the idea that Curly will inevitably make things better to stay alive, meaning Curly has to live, no matter how much it pains him to do so.

[tccconfessions2hear]

I had a relationship with Laaiti E that ran out in the sand for reasons unrelated and I screwed up our remaining friendship.

I’m scrolling our instagram conversation and I’m breaking down over things we said to each other that I didn’t remember. I still have audio messages. I really miss him. I don’t want to look at discord or other texts. It’s too much.

He gets out of juvie tomorrow and I do not even know if I can tell him how happy I am for him without bothering him.

He sent pictures of his room when he changed rooms. I look at them now and just wonder how his things are packed for tomorrow.

I hope he makes it out there.

CONFESSION 457

[daz4i]

justice is meaningless without care, if the thing that drives you to action is hate towards the oppressors rather than care for the oppressed you will not get very far

[impossible-rat-babies]

living in my barbie dream house of physically affectionate dirge

[skrunksthatwunk]

found out that rascal's owner took him again while i was out, and he's probably not gonna be back since the semester's almost over. i don't even know if his owner's coming back next semester, if i'll ever see him again. if he'll ever see me again. why do they wait until im not around to do this? why do they never let me say goodbye to him?