#writings of a hopeless romantic

[beautifullybrokenbabydoll]

But I gotta be careful....

How does one deal with demons that one go away with time? When your patience has run thin and you're nearly done fighting? When you're so exhausted you let them win just for some peace and energy. It's exhausting to be alive sometimes. Living everyday to just tell your demons that they need to hush. How can I continue to beat them but any other way than time? I can't be creating infatuated crushes again. And yet they search for answers and what ifs too drown out the reality. Then I'm alone again. Reminded of my previous what ifs, working to pull myself out so desperately so I'm not caught in an endless cycle. I know I can do it... at least that what I keep telling myself. I don't see the other side of this all but I do feel it. I am tired of people who don't feel the same way having my affection. I don't wanna waste my time anymore. I want to be freed of my burdens. I want to continue living as this more self loving individual. It's like cuts that keep reopening after prepping them with the right bandages and then forgetting one day to take them off only to accidentally rip the scabs off and start the process all over again. It's burning and painful. But I gotta be careful because when someone else comes to help me bandage them I can't fall in love. I can't look at them in the eyes or I fear I will self destruct. I don't wanna fall apart again. I don't want this heart to be a heavy burden. I want to grow it like the seed it is instead of stealing the lifeforce and trying to pump into others. Bleeding out through my arms as it's the easiest way to make contact. I wanna believe I deserve more than I have received. I know I deserve more. I wanna experience love the way my music floods my head. I wanna breathe another person's breath for the first time when laying next to them to sleep. One day. Please. I don't wanna bet all on it getting better but I don't wanna convince myself it hasn't happened for a reason. The burden of reading and seeing people like me and wondering when it's gonna be my turn is a curse. I don't wanna think about when it's gonna be my turn. I wanna live in the moment.

[rafey-baby]

hidden 5

c/w: outlaw!rafe being his usual self towards pogue!reader, barry making an appearance, closure on the hostage/stockholm syndrome situation, mentions of murder & violence, slightly suggestive, fluffy ending, 18+ mdni!

wc: 3.5k

sooo this is the last part! (but might write some blurbs for them at some point idk) thank u for reading love u <3

him getting jealous was inspired by this ask

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

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

Consciousness drags her out of the comfort of her slumber, forcing her to blink her leaden eyelids open to Rafe’s heavy and very much naked body weighing her down against the couch cushions.  

She can feel his chest expanding with each lethargic inhale he takes and she’s momentarily disconcerted; entangled thoughts desperately trying to make sense of her current situation.

However, all too soon, the memories of last night cause her to let out a tired groan. What on earth was she thinking? Why would she let Rafe of all people fuck her? And more than once. She can’t even recall how many times she— 

Suddenly, she’s reminded of the reason she stirred from her state of dormancy in the first place when she feels Rafe’s sturdy abdomen pressing down on her bladder. 

“Ugh,” she lets the back of her head hit the armrest before trying to pry him off, albeit to no avail.  

“Rafe? Can you...” she shoves at his shoulder.  

However, he merely takes in a sleepy breath and shifts into a more pleasant position.  

“Rafe, wake up,” she tries again, this time pushing at his face that’s resting comfortably in the crook of her sweaty neck. In response, he offers her a drowsy hum before pasting a sluggish palm over her lips to make her go quiet.  

“Shh,” he silences her and she feels like slapping him because she’s about to pee on her couch and he’s hushing her, of all things.

She wraps her fingers around his limp wrist and yanks it away from her mouth with a huff. “I need to pee. Can you get off me, please?”  

He lets out a dozy grunt before groggily raising his head to look at her; squinting due to the daffodil-colored rays of sunshine peeking from the windows and appearing just as foggy as her a few minutes ago.  

He rubs a hand over his face, mumbling something incoherent under his breath and at last, removes his limbs that restrained her capability to move.  

“Thanks,” she peeps out before getting up and scurrying off to the bathroom; hearing him slump back down onto the couch immediately after.  

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

After rinsing off the stickiness of last night in the steaming shower and changing into a pair of sweats, she realizes she’s starving. Hunger is eating away at her insides and along with the graphic recollections of her and Rafe’s late-night activities vividly jumping around her skull; she can already feel a headache lurking around the corner. 

She’s in the process of cracking eggs on a pan when she hears Rafe entering the shower; the pitter patter of water droplets hitting the tiled floor following soon after. She begins to cut up some tomatoes to add into the mixture, when out of the blue, the doorbell rings.  

She doesn’t think Rafe hears it since the water is still running in the bathroom, which is why she’s not entirely sure what she’s supposed to do.   

She figures that if it’s the police again, it would seem suspicious if it took her longer than normal to open it twice in a row now. Therefore, she turns off the stove and takes tentative steps towards the door.  

Fleetingly, she wonders if she should simply act as if no one’s home since opening doors to strangers was what got her into this mess in the first place. At this point though, she doesn’t necessarily have the mental capacity to care. 

She gingerly unlocks the door with her lip worried between her teeth, and behind it, stands a guy with hair as black as a crow and eyes as brown as coffee beans. 

“Is Rafe here?” He asks with such a slow drawl it makes her wonder if he’s high on something other than just life.  

And he doesn’t seem like a cop. But wouldn’t Rafe have told her if he was expecting someone?  

“I don’t— I don’t know what you’re talking about. He’s, um, he’s not here,” she decides to play it safe; the lie clumsily rolling off her tongue. However, she can tell that he’s not buying it. 

“You sure? You tellin’ me he gave me the wrong address then?” He wonders with a lazy furrow of his dark eyebrows.  

“Um, I don’t—” 

“Barry, told you to call me before you get here,” Rafe’s low rumble suddenly interrupts her; making a shiver trickle down her spine because him being right behind her, freshly showered, reminds her a little too much of his first night here.  

“Country club! Thought they got your ass already. Good to see you not in jail,” Barry exclaims loudly and takes the liberty of inviting himself in as if her home has turned into a public building free for anyone to just come and go as they please. At least he has the courtesy to close the door, she thinks.

He greets Rafe with a heartfelt pat on the back and she’s momentarily stunned when his mouth twists into a smile that would be considered warm and genuine; something she’s never had the luxury of receiving. 

“Why you didn’t tell me you were staying with a princess?” Barry pushes at his chest playfully. 

“Leave her alone, man,” Rafe rolls his eyes in annoyance.  

“I ain’t do nothin’. Just statin’ the obvious here,” Barry raises his hands up in defense and the unexpected compliment makes her suppress a giddy simper. 

“Whatever, just get your ass here, I need your help,” Rafe grumbles out as he begins walking towards her bedroom. Not even asking if he can go there because why would he? 

“Ain’t nothin’ new about that,” Barry chuckles, revealing a golden tooth that glints under the light when he grins at her. 

And there’s a familiarity in which they interact that makes her figure they’ve known each other for a long time. With the little knowledge she has, she then comes to the conclusion that Barry most likely plays a part in the side business Rafe briefly mentioned when she’d found out about the cop he’d killed.

She assumes all of it is also connected to the plastic baggies full of white powder in the glove compartment of his truck, because there’s no way Rafe needs that much coke just for personal use.  

“We have to, uh, talk about some shit. So, go do something else, yeah?” Rafe looks over his shoulder at her.

“Right, um, okay,” she mumbles out before turning around to return to the safety of her kitchen.  

“Damn, Rafe. That how you talk to her even though she be letting you hide here?” Barry questions as he follows after him. 

“Shit, man, can you just— let’s just get this over with, alright? Don’t have all day,” Rafe mutters in response. 

“Well someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed, huh?” Barry’s humorous tone is the last thing she hears before the door closes; leaving her to resume preparing her breakfast with a weary sigh.  

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

A few days later, she hears Rafe’s voice from the living room as she’s thoughtlessly reorganizing her closet; folding shirts and pants and taking out clothes she no longer wears, since he still doesn’t allow for her to leave the house without him. 

“Come watch this for a second?” His tone sounds almost excited when she pads over to stand next to him on the rug; looking over at him in question. 

However, he merely nods towards the television screen and turns the volume higher.  

“And then onto some more interesting news. The charges for Rafe Cameron, owner of Cameron Development, have been dropped due to no significant evidence found to prove him guilty. However, the investigation is still open and the police are doing everything they can in order to find the criminal behind the devastating murder that has shaken up the entire island for weeks now. In order to ensure everyone’s safety, we hope that you keep your eyes open for anything out of the ordinary and…” 

Everything after that turns into muffled background noise as her jaw drops and her rounded eyes flicker over to Rafe.  

“I’m a free man, Puppy,” he turns to face her with a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. 

“How did you even…” she’s momentarily stunned; words withering away as she simply blinks up at him in surprise. 

“Don’t want you to worry about it, alright?” He’s quick to dismiss her as he clicks off the TV. 

“I’m, um, happy for you…even though you did kill the guy and—” 

“Already told you, he wasn’t a good person and an even shittier cop, remember? And I’m gonna need you to never mention that shit again, think you can do that?” He turns serious all of a sudden; peering into her eyes with a warning.  

“Y— yes,” her voice falters when he steps closer.   

“Cause if you can’t, I’m gon’ have to do something you won’t like, you understand?” He gazes at her with such intensity, she can’t do anything but nod with her shoulders tense.  

“You sure? Cause you’re kinda my only loose end here, and we wouldn’t want anything to happen to you, would we?” His tall frame hovers over her as he leans down to mutter out the words, causing her to flinch.  

“No, I promise. I’m not gonna say anything,” she squeaks out and means it.  

Who would even believe her? After all, she doesn’t have any actual proof and even if she did, she thinks Rafe could easily just pay himself out of it. And she’s not particularly keen on finding out how far he’s willing to take his vengeance.  

“Good,” he seems to relax some but a sense of dread washes over her anyway.  

“But what if…someone threatens me or something?” She asks with caution.  

“That’s not gonna happen. You always worry so much, just chill out for a bit, yeah?” He shrugs it off with an air of indifference she wishes she could possess as well. 

“But it’s a possibility. How do you know someone didn’t see us together when people were looking for you?” She reasons with her mind racing.  

“Listen, if someone threatens you…you come to me and I’ll fucking kill them for you, okay?” He suggests with complete seriousness.  

“What? No! That’s not what I meant at all. I don’t want you to—” 

However, she’s interrupted by amused laughter bubbling out of his chest. 

“I’m joking. Stop being an annoying Pogue for one second, yeah? Think we should go out for dinner, hm? Let me, uh, thank you for your hospitality and shit,” he says as he smooths a palm over his buzzed hair. 

“Like at a restaurant? You and me?” At the notion of them spending time together outside of all this, confusion tangles up her thoughts; making her forget all about her previous concerns.  

“You’re so fucking weird. Yes, you and me. Who else? Can get whatever expensive shit you want too, how’s that sound?” He coaxes her to agree with the mellow tone he adds, however, not without making fun of her first. 

“Um, okay…sounds great?” She can’t really grasp onto his motives in the headspace she’s currently in, merely assumes he wants to be on her good side so she wouldn’t change her mind about opening her mouth.  

“Great. Need to, uh, take care of some things over at Figure Eight first, but be ready at seven,” he makes it sound like a threat, even if he’s not trying to scare her with a gun anymore.  

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

She doesn’t think she’s ever been at a restaurant this costly; everything on the menu more than she could ever afford. Rafe practically demands her to not pay attention to the price and get anything she wants, however, it’s proving to be quite challenging as she scans over the list of dishes in front of her with creased brows.  

“You ready?” He asks with a hint of impatience.

“No, I can’t decide. There’s so many options and I don’t even know what half of them mean,” she mumbles out in distress. 

“I’ll just, uh, order for you, yeah?” He suggests with a raise of his brows as he stretches out his arms.  

At that, she swallows, desperately trying not to pay any mind to his large biceps practically on display.

“Okay, thanks,” she graces him with a grateful smile; feeling out of place with rich Kooks all around nearly suffocating her.  

Being here with Rafe, of all people, feels strange. Not even a day ago, she was still practically held captive by him, even if the leash of his strict rules around her throat had loosened up considerably, and his overly aggressive tendencies had dwindled down to grumpy mutters and displeased glares over the course of the few weeks they’d known each other. Now, she’s solely bound to him by this muddy, grimy secret that she will probably take down to her grave.  

And despite everything he’s done to her, in some peculiar way, she’s beginning to understand him. Because against all her morals, in a killer, someone who other people would consider a monster, she sees someone simply trying to survive in the harsh world with the crumpled cards life has dealt with him. And she isn’t all too sure how far her feelings of care towards the man branch out but what she does know, is that she doesn’t want him to go to prison. No matter what he’s done. 

And she���s never even met Rafe’s father and he hasn’t talked about him to her, but she has this feeling that to be so violent and hostile, has to be learned from someone.

No one is born evil, even if she wouldn’t necessarily describe him as that.

In Rafe, she sees a boy who was forced to grow up too quickly; someone with the burden of his father’s heavy legacy weighing down on his shoulders with every breath he takes. 

Therefore, she can’t find it in herself to be entirely too upset with him for the way he treated her, thinks she can live with it, even if it was wrong. Because looking back on it, in a way that makes no sense to her, it was also sort of thrilling to keep him hidden and follow along with his very much illegal activities. After all, she’s never really been one to break the rules.  

“Are you guys ready to order?” The server’s voice pulls her out of her thoughts and makes her look up at a familiar face, slightly covered by sand-colored curls.  

“Y/N? Long time no talk! How’re you doing?” Lucas, a guy she had a fling with last year meets her eyes with his surprised ones. 

“Oh, hi. I’m good. What a crazy coincidence, didn’t even know you worked here,” she forces out a strained laugh because had she known, she would’ve asked Rafe to pick another restaurant.

“Actually, just started a few weeks ago. But since when do you eat on this side of the island?” He gives her a curious look.  

“I don’t. Just a…special occasion and stuff,“ she steals a glance at Rafe who’s quietly observing their interaction with narrowed eyes.  

And him talking to her right now feels entirely too humiliating since she had told Rafe about him, assuming the two of them would never meet.  

“Right…anyway, haven’t seen you at the surf shop in a while, you still work there or?” Lucas continues with an enthusiasm she can’t quite reciprocate.  

And it’s not like they ended up on bad terms — they weren’t even officially together — she just sort of withdrew from him because despite being an overall nice guy, she felt like he only cared about his own needs. More often than not went on about his day without even taking hers into consideration, both in and outside the bedroom.

“Yeah, yeah, I do, just had a little, um…family emergency. It was this whole thing, you don’t even wanna know the details,” she lies through her teeth; picking at the corner of her napkin as a distraction.

“I’m so sorry to hear that. Is everything okay now?” His jade eyes are sympathetic as he peers down at her.  

“Yes, everything’s good. Think I’ll be able to return next Monday,” she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and tries to appear nonchalant.  

“Cool…hey, I was actually wondering if you’d wanna catch up some time?” He scratches at the back of his head; seemingly nervous about her answer. 

She blinks.  

“Oh, um—” 

“You gon’ take our orders at some point or just flirt with her for the next hour?” Rafe invites himself into the conversation with a scoff; tilting his head at him in intrigue.  

And at that, Lucas finally turns towards him.  

“Wait a second, weren’t you just suspected for murder?” He asks with slightly wide eyes.  

“Nah, they dropped the charges cause they were tweaking. I didn’t do shit,” Rafe huffs out, the lie rolling off his tongue far too easily.  

“Oh, right, right. That must, um, suck,” he rambles, seemingly intimidated by him. 

“Yeah, it does,” Rafe mutters, and him clearly trying to fight off a roll of his eyes doesn’t go unnoticed by her, even if she’s not entirely sure why his mood has suddenly turned sour.  

Lucas is quick to fill in the silence that follows soon after. “Right, so, what would you two like to eat?”

And after he’s left with their orders, Rafe turns to look at her with an annoying smirk overlaying his features. “That the guy who couldn’t make you come?” 

“Rafe! He can still hear you,” she hisses and looks over her shoulder; relieved to discover he’s already out of earshot.  

“Don’t really care. That shit’s just embarrassing for him. What did you see in him anyway? Seems like an ass,” he furrows his brows at her.  

“You’re talking as if you’re any better?”  

“At least made you come, no? Multiple times, may I add. Or you need a reminder?” He nudges her foot under the table with his own; the self-satisfied smirk plastered on his face making her subtly kick him back.  

However, he merely wraps his fingers around her ankle; ceasing her futile attempt at bruising his leg with a chuckle rumbling from his chest.  

“You seriously just tried to kick me? Didn’t seem to complain when you were begging for me to—”  

“Rafe! Why are you talking so loud?” She whines, trying to release the limb he’s captured, however, his grip is strong and she’s not getting free until he decides she is.  

“Calm down, no one here cares. You Pogues never know how to relax, do you?” 

“I am relaxed!” 

“Yeah, I can see that,” he taunts before finally letting go of her foot and she quickly pulls it back so he can’t grab for it again.  

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

“Can I ask you something?” She swallows something akin to sand in her throat; disrupting the sound of their silverware clinking against the ceramic plates as they contently fill up their bellies.  

“Hm?” His eyes flicker over to meet hers. 

“After this, um, are we just gonna go back to our sides of the island and never talk again?” There’s a wistful hue coloring over her question.  

“That’s what you want?” He raises his brows and she blinks; slightly taken aback by him not immediately answering with a yes.  

“Um, I don’t…know. What would we even do?” She takes a sip of water to appear indifferent to the entire situation. However, she’s failing miserably. 

“I mean, could think of a couple of things we could do…” he trails off with a smug grin, causing her to huff out a soft laugh. 

“Thought you didn’t hang out with Pogues?” She narrows her eyes at him, trying to figure out if he’s even taking this conversation seriously. 

“Yeah, well, guess I could make an exception. After all, you did help a Kook, so you’re not really a Pogue anymore, are you?”  

“Okay first of all, that makes zero sense and I only helped you, cause you were gonna kill me,” she states, lowering her tone towards the end.  

“Stop saying that shit, Puppy,” he hisses, looking around to ensure no one heard it. “Wasn’t gonna kill you, just needed you to listen, alright?”  

“Well, you could’ve been a bit more polite about it,” she rests her elbows on the table, tone accusatory.  

“Listen, I’m sorry, okay? That what you want me to say? A lot was going on and I wasn’t thinking clearly. Sometimes it’s, uh, hard for me to control my anger and shit,” he mutters out the last part, as if it’s difficult for him to admit.

“Yeah, I figured,” she’s smiling now; her attempt at making him feel guilty going down the drain because him trying to defend his behavior for once, is sort of entertaining. 

A scowl covers his face at the realization that she’s merely trying to make him sweat for her own enjoyment. “You know, I still think I should’ve picked another house,” he grants her a lighthearted glare.  

“Yeah, me too,” she nods in agreement.  

And at the sight of her barely contained grin, he can’t stop his mouth from curling up as well; both of them quietly giggling at the entirely too bizarre of a situation, that for some reason, feels far too much like a first date.  

It’s almost as if they’re meeting for the first time all over again.

[lomlompurim]

respost separated from the og post bc I really liked this silly little thing I made

And a little extra of my own

little binghe has a goal in this life and it only gets worse once he mets sqq, no one dares to threaten his position as sqq's future wife, he literally was born to be his spouse!!

[stil-lindigo]

an aro-ace's love letter to love.

(the title "Laozi's bowl" is in reference to the famous quote by Chinese philosopher Laozi who said "It is the empty space which makes the bowl useful.")

[ghostlyfleur]

steve who pulls the hem of your skirt down when it rises up for you when your hands are busy. steve who pulls the strap of your top up your shoulder when it falls. steve who delicately pushes your glasses up your nose when they slide down. steve who insists on tying your shoelaces for you. steve who gently tucks your hair behind your ears while you talk. steve who wipes chocolate with his thumb from the corner of your mouth. steve who bops your nose when he teases you. steve who adjusts the beanie you wear when you’re cold to make sure you’re covered properly. steve who drags the clasp and pendant of your necklaces to the right places. steve who plays with the rings on your fingers while he talks. steve who puts small flowers he picks on the streets behind your ears to see you blush. steve who brings you closer to him by the loops in your jeans.

steve harrington who is completely obsessed with you and devoted to you, and isn’t afraid of showing it… even if you two are not together yet.

[starrystevie]

it doesn't happen as a revelation. there's no jolting pain in his chest that sends steve reeling, no internal crisis that has him shaking on the bathroom floor, no shocking sense of guilt or desperation or fire licking in his veins. nothing that makes the world stop spinning and making him trip over his feet.

it's a normal moment when he realizes he's in love with eddie.

they're sitting in steve's car, ac blasting and music on low for once, waiting for a handful of the kids to get done with their final exams. they don't pick them up as much anymore and steve pointedly ignores how much he misses the times of carting them all around before mike started a ripple effect and got his license. but they're taking the kids to the lake after school to try and enjoy the last bits of non-suffocating sunshine before summer really hits, just like old times.

it isn't a revelation in the sense that it's some earth shattering event, but more like a moment of clarity. eddie's hair blows back for a second and he's blabbering about something from the dnd game he played the night before with his shop buddies with a wide grin and animated hands and the sun glints off the puckered pink scar on the side of his face in the most perfect way and he's beautiful and-

oh.

oh.

steve's vision seems clearer than it has in a while. his lungs feel a bit more shaky but not in a bad way, his heart stumbles against his ribcage like it's tripped over itself and the butterflies in his chest are the only things catching it. he laughs to himself because of course this has to happen when he wasn't expecting it, when he doesn't have a plan, but then eddie's looking at him and he knows he doesn't need one. not yet, anyway.

"you good, man?" eddie asks, eyebrows crinkled together and smirk on his face. he's painted golden in the afternoon sun, shining as bright as the north star. steve's always liked gold.

it's taken steve years to get here. the two of them have grown up together in the way that teenagers do while they figure out the roads laid out before them. they've learned each other's ins and outs through long nights and early mornings and everything in between. he knows his breathing, the way his footsteps sound, the smell of his aftershave, the feeling of his hands on his shoulders. it all comes together in this perfect package wrapped up in a perfect bow and for once, steve lets himself hope like he's a kid on christmas morning.

"yeah," he shakes his head to clear out the eddie-shaped stars in his vision, offers up a smirk of his own. it's taken years to get here so he still has time to do this right. "perfect."

[inklessletter]

I dreamed of your voice last night, and it sounded as lonely as I am. Are you trapped in there? Are you... are you real?

Thank you for trusting the process again <3

[catre33]

I yearn for a soft love.

Knowing just how they like their hot chocolate. I love having melty sprinkle sludge at the bottom of the mug.

And- the thumb rub thing. You guys know that thing??? When you're holding hands and you rub their hand with your thumb? Or they do it to you??? I love that thing.

Light little kisses in the most random and spontaneous places. The bicycle racks at Walmart, doing the dishes, in passing. Idk man I love that!

Doing a puzzle together? Reading something to them? Just staring at them cuz how tf did I end up with someone so insanely gorgeous??? Catching them staring at you?????

Can't think about them without smiling. Can't do anything without thinking about them.

Trying to remember what colours they like you in, and which shirt of yours is their favourite.

Just knowing and being known. Loving and being loved.

[purerae]

What kind of boyfriend would kieran be?

With his past relationships (if you can even call it that), he was a pretty shitty boyfriend. He’d constantly ignore them, break their hearts, get annoyed easily by them, flirt with other girls etc. Overall a major red flag.

But with you? incrediblyyyyyy domesticating and indulgent. Let’s say you mention one thing that you like in a passing conversation? Hed get it to you by the end of the week. Would wait for you by the door every time your classes has ended, would ditch his ‘friends’ in a heartbeat to go hang out with you. Basically he wants to spend every single second of his time with you.

AND most importantly, he 100% love love LOVES PDA. Would constantly be holding your hand, hugging you in the hallway, telling everyone you’re his girlfriend etc. — half the school find it a bit overbearing whilst others are envious of your relationship.

I feel like if he was your boyfriend he’d be pretty corny and buy those necklaces with his initials on it for you, so that everyone knows you’re his.

Also he’s the jealous type. Everytime you hang out with a friend, he practically seethes in his seat, thinking to himself — ‘Why would she wanna hang out with a freak like them, when i’m literally her boyfriend???’

He would take you quite literally anywhere you wanted for a date, Kieran is pretty loaded so don’t worry about any money issues <3

He’d still be himself — however i think he’d act more vulnerable and a lot more calm around you now that you’re officially his. He doesn’t feel the need to constantly impress you since you like him for him.

He’d still constantly use cheesy pick up lines and annoy you to no ends but there are the rare times where you’re both alone and he’s just peacefully silent and in your embrace, Kieran’s holding onto you a bit too tight but it’s okay. — you’re his and he’s yours. just like how it should be.

[fandomsoda]

Deromanticize holding hands, deromanticize kissing, deromanticize intimacy, deromanticize long-term relationships, deromanticize love.

Normalize platonic intimacy and queerplatonicism. Please.

[inoreuct]

i want to be loved— softly.

i want to be loved when i am too tired to maintain my usual personality. i want to be loved when i have none of my charm, when i'm quiet and i've put down my smile. i want to drop my weight into skin-warmed sheets, press my face into a pillow that is not mine and know that i am still wanted even when i have nothing to give. i want low lights and quiet voices. i want a love that feels easy as breathing, hot chocolate and tea, wrapped in the duvet with a thunderstorm outside. i want to be seen at my worst and still be kissed like i look beautiful. i want comfort and safety and a place to rest my head. i want to trust someone enough to be able to let them put me back together when i fall apart. i want to be shown that i am worth the effort of being gentle, of being careful. i want love that is a home, a refuge, a respite, because love is steady and love is kind. love is the place where you hide when everything is too much. love is where you know you're safe, where nothing can hurt you, and love is relief. love is where, at the end of the day, you take down your hair and let your shoulders drop because there is nobody to pretend for. love is gentle. love is soft. love is lovely and if it isn't lovely— then it isn't love.

[coffeexxcigarettes]

I don't want nudes.

Tell me why you cry

On that random Tuesday in April;

Why you were born with a dusting

Of stars across your cheeks,

And who taught you to hide them.

x

..

..

.. @nosebleedclub Dec 1st; Dusting

[mrs-snape5984]

“Can we always be this close…forever and ever?”

“My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue. All's well that ends well to end up with you.” (“Lover” by Taylor Swift)

Today I want to share something more cheerful with all you lovely people of Snapedom, because - to be honest - considering my last few posts on this blog, they could suggest the idea, that I might not be the most zestful person around here. Well…guilty as charged! 😅So, please, take my apologies for my constant venting and complaining about ME/CFS and the ways, in which this bitch of a disease destroyed the life, I’ve known before. But this particular post will be dedicated to LOVE.

I know, I’m using this blog as my personal journal in order to cope with the hardships of my existence, always relying on my 21 years lasting connection with Severus Snape…who is undeniably the one true love of my life. Some of you might judge or mock me for being so pathetically devoted to a fictional character over such a long period of time, but believe me…my love for Severus is my safe haven!

Sure, I’ve tried to give other relationships a shot, but after some really traumatic experiences with men and women, as well as two failed marriages, I’m coming to the conclusion, that I’m better off alone. I must admit, that being doomed to endure a so called life in my bed, only surrounded by darkness and mostly solitude, definitely has an influence on this conviction. Who knows, if I’d have the same beliefs if I weren’t “un-dateable”…but this doesn’t matter anymore, since there’s still no cure for my disease.

And yet… (enter dramatic sigh here 😂)

And yet, I still believe in love, despite my own failures…despite all the pain, the sorrows, the humiliation and the traumas, I’ve been confronted with. I guess, being intelligent (or at least well educated) and overly realistic didn’t prevent me from being a hopeless romantic human being.

My adolescent twins are currently entering the phase of their first “loves”. I’ve taught my three children from the very beginning, that it doesn’t matter, whom they love, unless they’re feeling safe and happy about it. My daughter is proud to have her first girlfriend, even though she’s already facing some difficulties in her environment, due to her frank nature to enjoy her crush. For me - a woman, who’s living openly bisexual 🏳️‍🌈 since I’ve been 14 years old - it’s absolutely unbelievable, that there are still so many people in our society, who seem to stick to their restrained beliefs about sexuality and gender. I will always try to support my children in their journey of self-acceptance and self-discovery.

So, yes, I still believe in love…no matter how this love might look like. Even though I’m confined to this prison, which is formed by my disease, I was allowed to find some kind of deep love in my friends. I want to share a short poem with you (written by Whitney Hanson for her book “Harmony”) which reminds me of the love, that I feel for these friends of mine:

I have always loved the way

Music could make the world feel

Like it doesn’t exist

As if suddenly all my fears

Are swept away

Who knew

That there are people out there

Who could make me feel the same way

Another love, which makes my heart swell with joy, is my love to all those amazingly talented artists of Snapedom, for whom I’m rolling out the red carpet on my blog, by using their art as my very personal soothing balm for my troubled heart and soul. This time, I’ve commissioned the lovely @kruzbr for the very first time. I’ve been fallen for their Severitus comics, so I asked them to help me out with making my own version of Severitus, together with my undeniably self-inspired OC Jules, come to life.

Anderson, your understanding of my ideas and your kindness made it a pleasure for me to join the process of creating this mesmerising masterpiece of art. I’m beyond grateful for your service and I can assure you, that this won’t be the last time, I will commission you for another adventure of Sevy & Jules. The next idea is already stuck in my mind, so keep an eye on your postbox! Thank you for everything, my dear!

🖤Severus & Julia🖤

🖤Sevy & Jules🖤

[adharagranley-writer]

i love intense people. fast replies, lots of messages, tell me you day in detail, talk about your interests and hyperfixations, let's get passionate about the moon and the universe and life and let's dream that we're in a roof in paris drinking and staring at the sky like we're gonna live forever and read poetry aloud.

[ghostlyfleur]

𝐩𝐞𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬.

clingy!steve harrington x reader

♡

once steve finds his person, his angel, the love of his life, he’s all in. for the first time, he feels free to love as he wishes, to not hide in fear of being “too much”… too needy, too touchy, too mushy, too much.

he finally feels free. in previous relationships he’s been with girls who don’t like too much touch, or too many nicknames, or all the hopeless romantic mushy stuff steve longs to have, but now? with his sweet girl? he finally feels free. you call him the sweetest names, “my sweet boy” and “dreamy” and “puppy”, and it turns him into soft marshmallow fluff, melted at your feet.

so he calls you all the pet names he can think of, loving how flustered it gets you. “princess” in a slightly more teasing way, mocking and playful or flirty, but he’s also such a ��honey” boyfriend it’s unreal, though. reserves “honey” for more intimate settings, soft spoken and with a sweet smile. your stevie also loves adding “my” in front of anything he calls you:

“my princess”

“my smiley/sweet girl”

“my silly girl”

“my little crybaby”

“my girl”

“my honey”

the two of you know just how to love each other perfectly, and you’re both so happy to have finally found your person. steve finally has the healthy, happy, committed relationship he’s always wanted and you finally found your person.

[saudrag]

anyone else feeling like a feral cat with a burning need to throw oneself onto the wall to start shewing cement when looking at these pictures? for no particular reason at all.