#yeah it makes me want to sob but that’s why it’s SO GOOD
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reblogging comment review from @zyafics
i lied (warning i don't think my commentary r that good) ⬇️
JJ cheered in the background, almost face-planting the ground as he struggled to get off his chair and call Pope.
that’s his bf fr
But watching Rafe Cameron—the boy who had idolized his father for years, now a man—sit in a chair facing countless cameras and strangers for hours as he recounted his life under Ward's control? That was a different kind of heartache.
he’s just a baby boy
ALT
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The barriers between you two seemed insurmountable.
climb that wall
Luke laughed, a deranged sound, and lunged. You swung the skillet with all your might. It connected with his shoulder, the impact reverberating up your arm
this scene is supposed to be serious but i imagined tommy and jerry where jerrry hit jerry with a pan or smth and the thing bounces off of him wobbly 😭😭ok back to reading (i wanna let u know the lengths i went through to make this gif bc i literally downloaded it and made it myself)
(i wanna let u know the lengths i went through to make this gif bc i literally downloaded it and made it myself)
You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat, a sob escaping instead. Your knees gave out, and you sank to the floor, the phone slipping slightly in your grasp. The room felt like it was closing in on you, the walls pressing down, the silence deafening except for your labored breathing.
this is claustrophobic
"Sit here," Rafe said, motioning to the edge of the bed. He disappeared for a moment, returning with a first-aid kit. He kneeled in front of you again, this time with a different purpose. "Lemme see your hands."
MY BABY TAKING CARE OF MY OTHER BABY
You swallowed hard, the weight of his words pressing against the barrier you'd built around your heart. “Why—Why did you pick up the phone?”“You know why.”
can we please just fuck and make up
Without a word, he slipped off his shoes
this took me out white boy why do u have shoes in the HOUSEEEEE
“…I don’t care what it fucking takes,” Rafe all but spat, his tone filled with determination. “Yeah, I know the charges will stick. Just make sure he doesn’t get out on bail. I don’t want him anywhere near her again.”
rafe is such an action man we love 💕
"I owe you everything," he murmured.
screeching under my pillow 🦅
“You’ve been alone?” You all but sob, “You’ve been here all this time? By yourself?”
the way ur dialogue is like a movie SOMEONE GET GIGI INTO THE WRITERS ROOM STAT
Your heart pounded in your chest as he closed the distance, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, hesitant kiss. It was as if he was testing the waters, ensuring you were okay with this, and when you didn’t pull away, the kiss deepened. His hand moved to the back of your neck, holding you gently but firmly as his lips explored yours.
SEXYYY TIMEEE 💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻 i am so unserious
“I don’t care,” you replied, shaking your head. “You fucked me after I got shot.”
say it
"That night was different. We were different."
oh fuck off being a gentleman pls ✋🏼🤨
His voice trailed off, but his hands spoke for him, tracing patterns along your sides, sending shivers through you. His touch was reverent as if he was rediscovering you, piece by piece.
why is this so beautiful
"I love the way you look at me," he continued, his hands slipping under your shirt, his shirt, caressing the bare skin beneath. "Like I'm the only person in the world. Like I matter."
ohmygod 🙈 i feel like i am interrupting something
"You do matter," you whispered, your voice breaking. “You matter to me.”
BABIES ALL OF THEM !!!!!!!!!!!
Rafe's hands found your hips, his touch firm and reassuring. "I love you," he said again, "And I need you to know that. Shit, I need you to feel it."
put it in already 🙄 (kidding i love this)
"My perfect girl," he growled against your lips.
ur making me blush
“Fuck, yes,” he whimpered, his grip on your hips tightening. “You feel amazing.”
RAFE WHIMPERING I WONNN
"I can't believe you're real."
i swear to god if this turns out to be a dream i’m booking the next flight to ur city n murdering u in ur sleep (real)
final thoughts — this is so tender and sweet, i love this. i think i can offer no true words to have much i appreciate this series (also because i used it all up in the last review) but yes, like i said. compliments to the chefs for her dialogue and beautiful imagery. additionally, i wanna let u know that u give me so much inspiration. whenever i finish one of ur work, i'm like "i gotta get my ass up and work" because i always feel so motivated to write whenever i read ur stuff. <3 truly, t💘💘hank u for everything, i'm so excited (and sad... and horny...?) to see them come to a delightful end next part
THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18) - six
request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛"
WARNINGS: domestic violence; blood; injuries; angst; smut;
word count: 7.6k
You saw it on the news before Sarah told you.
Ward was officially in police custody.
They were calling it the biggest crime operation in years, plastering his face on every corner of every newspaper in the country. You saw it first on your busted-up TV, the morning news anchor's serious tone making the gravity of the situation clear before Sarah had a chance to call.
He was stopped.
The man who caused so much pain and chaos to everyone you cared about was finally behind bars.
But your relief came with a bit of caution.
This was just the beginning. There was still a trial to face, and you knew how slippery Ward could be. He had enough money to buy whoever he wanted, and the justice system wasn’t always as just as you hoped. Trials could take months, even years before he was sentenced.
JJ cheered in the background, almost face-planting the ground as he struggled to get off his chair and call Pope. You hadn’t seen him this ecstatic in years, the hallways of your home echoing with “let’s fucking go, baby!” as he made his way upstairs.
You were content.
Was there really anything to be happy about?
Sure, a bad guy was getting what he deserved, but the destruction he left behind was still very much there.
Months ago, when the police contacted you again, you had refused to testify. What Ward did to you was terrifying, but what he did to Sarah, John B, and Rafe? They were the true witnesses to his evil. You barely got a taste of his wrath. You were lucky. You wanted to be there, of course. Every person Ward hurt deserved all the support they could get. But watching Rafe Cameron—the boy who had idolized his father for years, now a man—sit in a chair facing countless cameras and strangers for hours as he recounted his life under Ward's control? That was a different kind of heartache.
Rafe.
You hadn’t seen him since that day he dropped by, and it felt like he vanished into thin air. You didn’t see him around town, not at the beach, and he never stopped by your job. You started wondering if he’d been cooped up in that awful house all this time.
You couldn’t shake this feeling of worry, knowing he was stuck in the shadow of his dad’s mess.
Did he feel abandoned by you?
The thought of him, alone in that house, haunted you. You knew you should’ve reached out, found him as the town buzzed with the details of Ward’s arrest. More stories came out, each more horrifying than the last.
You almost gave in.
One evening, you found yourself riding past the Cameron estate, its looming structure a dark silhouette against the fading light. You almost went in, stopping by the gigantic gate, but then you saw movement inside and sped away on your bike.
You couldn’t do it.
The barriers between you two seemed insurmountable.
As you walked home from your shift as a lifeguard at the beach, the sun setting behind you cast long shadows on the sand. The rhythmic crashing of the waves had always been your favorite soundtrack. You’ve spent most of your life inside the water, it was in your nature.
Growing up, surf and swimming were your outlets to get away from your violent father and deadbeat mother. The ocean was your sanctuary, a place where you could forget the shouting matches, the broken furniture, and the empty bottles scattered around the house. When you were out there riding the waves or just floating on your back, everything else melted away. The water had a way of washing off the grime of your home life, even if just temporarily.
Unfortunately, once you set your feet on the sand and walked home, that feeling always vanished.
Tonight, as you made your way home, the familiar dread began to creep in. Both your parents were long gone, but the sense of dread would never leave you, always attached to that stupid house.
Even though the yelling had stopped, and the bottles were gone, the walls seemed to hold on to the echoes of your past. The creaky floorboards, the dim lighting, the chipped paint—You hated it.
You had considered moving out many times, but something always held you back. JJ. Money.
When you got there, the air felt unusually still.
JJ’s truck wasn’t parked in its usual spot, which was strange, but not entirely unheard of. What really unsettled you were the closed windows. You always left them open to let the ocean breeze in, but now they were all shut tight.
You called out your brother’s name, hoping to hear his usual welcoming shout, but there was only silence. You shrugged it off, thinking he was probably out on the boat or lost in his video games.
You dropped your bag by the door and walked further inside.
"JJ?" You called again.
As you stepped into the living room, the sight of your father, Luke, froze you in place.
He seemed worse than you remembered—disheveled, eyes bloodshot, and reeking of alcohol.
Luke had been gone for a year, no contact, nothing. But the memories of his drunken rages and the bruises he left behind were still fresh. He was supposed to be miles away. JJ made sure of that, paying him off and helping him get off the island.
Seeing him was the last thing you were expecting.
"You shouldn’t be here,” You warned him, trying to mask the fear rising in your chest.
He laughed, a hollow, chilling sound. "I’m just here to see my kids. Is that so wrong?”
Liar.
You knew better than to trust him. “You need to leave. Now.”
His expression darkened, the smirk fading. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
“Watch me. Out.”
He took a step back, raising his hands in mock surrender, “I just need a little loan.”
You tightened your grip on the edge of the doorframe, “No. You need to go, for good.”
His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you thought he might listen. But then he took a step closer, and you could smell the stale alcohol on his breath.
“I’m not leaving without what I came for.”
“I don’t care,” You snapped, no longer the scared girl he was used to, “Get your ass out of my house before I call the cops.”
“This is my house!” He all but screamed, the veins in his neck visible.
“Not anymore,” Your heart pounded in your chest, and every fiber of your being screamed for JJ, wishing he was here, “I’m not afraid of you,” you said, more to convince yourself than him.
He took another step forward, his face twisted in anger. “You always were a stubborn little brat.”
“And you’re a piece of shit.”
He lunged.
You barely dodged his grasp, stumbling back into the living room.
“Stay away from me!” you shouted, desperately looking for something to defend yourself with.
Luke laughed, a dark, hollow sound, and came at you again. This time, he grabbed your arm, his grip painfully tight. You barely had time to react, instinctively raising your arms to block his advance.
“You little bitch,” he snarled, pushing you against the wall. The impact knocked the breath out of you, but you fought to stay focused. You couldn’t let him win, not again.
“You’re going to give me what I want,” he hissed, his breath hot and foul on your face.
“No, I’m not,” you spat back, summoning every ounce of courage you had.
With your free hand, you grabbed a nearby lamp and swung it at him. The base connected with his head, and he stumbled back, cursing.
“Bitch!” he roared, holding his head. Blood trickled down the side of his face, but the sight only seemed to enrage him further.
He charged at you, knocking the lamp from your hands and pinning you to the floor.
You were panicking, resorting to kicking and thrashing, trying to throw him off. “Get off me!” you screamed, clawing at his face.
He slapped you hard, the force of the blow making your vision blur. “You think you can fight me?” he snarled, his hands wrapping around your throat.
Gasping for air, you felt the desperation claw its way out. You’d been here too many times. Your hand groped blindly on the floor, finding a heavy candlestick. Your mom’s candlestick. With the last of your strength, you brought it down on his head.
Luke’s grip loosened, and he slumped to the side, groaning. You scrambled to your feet, your breath coming in ragged gasps.
He tried to get up, but you struck him again, this time with all your strength. The candlestick connected with a sickening thud, and your father collapsed, blood pooling around his head.
You stood over him, panting, the weight of what you’d done sinking in.
But then, with a guttural growl, he stirred and reached for your ankle. You staggered back, your heart hammering.
“Stay down goddamit!” you shouted, raising the candlestick again.
He pushed himself up, eyes wild with rage. “You’re gonna pay for that,” he spat, lunging once more.
This time, you were ready.
As he reached for you, you twisted to the side, bringing your knee up sharply into his stomach. He grunted in pain, doubling over, and you seized the opportunity to land a sharp elbow to his nose. The crack was satisfying, but brief; he roared and grabbed at you blindly.
You ducked under his arm, grabbing a chair and shoving it between you. Luke, half-blind with fury, kicked the chair aside, but it gave you enough time to reach the kitchen. You grabbed the first thing you could find—a cast-iron skillet.
He stumbled into the kitchen after you, a trickle of blood from his nose mingling with the sweat and grime on his face.
“You just had to put up a fight, huh? Just like her.” he snarled.
“Stay back,” you warned, brandishing the skillet, “I’ll fucking do it.”
Luke laughed, a deranged sound, and lunged. You swung the skillet with all your might. It connected with his shoulder, the impact reverberating up your arm. He staggered, and you swung again, aiming for his head. The skillet hit with his temple, the sound echoing through the room and he collapsed, finally unmoving.
Oh fuck.
For a moment, the house was deathly silent.
You dropped the skillet, your hands trembling.
Kneeling down, you checked for a pulse. It was faint, but there. Relief and horror flooded through you simultaneously. You almost killed him. There was so much blood. It stained the old carpet, the candlestick, your hands.
You backed away, your mind racing.
What if he died? What if you’d killed him? Oh god, oh god. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You just wanted him gone, out of your life for good.
With trembling fingers, you picked up your phone, the weight of what had just happened settling heavily on your shoulders. Your heart raced with adrenaline and fear, each breath feeling labored as you scrolled through your contacts. You needed help, someone who could make sense of the chaos now consuming your life.
The screen lit up with familiar names, but your vision was blurred with tears.
Without fully realizing it, your finger landed on a contact you hadn’t called ever before. The phone rang, and you kept an eye on Luke, praying he wouldn’t move. It rang for only ten seconds, but it felt like an eternity.
“Maybank?”
“Rafe?” You gasped out, your voice breaking as you clutched the phone to your ear.
There was a brief pause, and then his voice came through, “Hey, hey. What's wrong? Are you okay?”
But you couldn't speak.
Hearing his voice after all this time, after everything that had happened, it was too much.
The fear, the relief, the chaos, all of it came crashing down, and your breath hitched.
You couldn’t think.
“Hey! Are you there? Talk to me!” Rafe's voice grew more urgent.
You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat, a sob escaping instead. Your knees gave out, and you sank to the floor, the phone slipping slightly in your grasp. The room felt like it was closing in on you, the walls pressing down, the silence deafening except for your labored breathing.
“Where are you?!”
You focused on his words, trying to match your breath to his timbre.
In. Out. In. Out.
It helped, if only a little. The shaking in your hands lessened, but the fear never eased.
“I think... I think I killed my dad.”
You looked at the bloodstained carpet, the unconscious body of your father still lying there, and the horror of it all washed over you again.
“Are you home? Are you safe?”
You glanced around the living room, the familiar space now a scene of violence.
“I’m home. JJ isn’t here. I-I don’t know where he is.”
“I’m coming,” Rafe said firmly. “Stay there. Don’t touch anything. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Rafe—” You began, but he cut you off.
“I’ll be there soon. Just hang on, okay?”
The minutes ticked by, and you found yourself staring at the door, willing Rafe to appear.
What were you going to do? How were you going to live with yourself if Luke died? This wasn’t you.
You didn’t hurt people. You just wanted a little bit of peace in your life, some quiet. Why did things never work out the way you wanted them to?
Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, you heard the sound of a car pulling up outside. Moments later, the door burst open, and there he was.
“Maybank?”
He called out for you as he stepped inside.
Seconds later, he was standing in front of you, scanning the room, analyzing the scene before him. He rushed to your side, pulling you into his arms without hesitation.
“It’s okay. I’m here. You’re gonna be okay.”
He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple as he guided you away from the scene, his eyes lingering briefly on your father’s motionless figure.
“What happened?” He asked softly, leading you to sit on the couch.
“He just showed up out of nowhere. He wanted money. I told him to leave, but he wouldn’t. He got violent, and I... “
“It’s okay.”
His warmth helped.
But you still felt the overwhelming weight guilt eating you alive. The blood on your hands—it all felt surreal, like a nightmare you couldn't wake up from.
“Have you called 911?”
You shook your head, lips trembling as you tried not to cry.
“Do you want me to?”
The thought of police cars and paramedics filling the house, made your stomach churn. The fear of what might happen if Luke woke up, or if he didn't, paralyzed you. It took you a second to realize he already had his phone out, pressed to his ear.
"I need an ambulance.”
He stayed on the line with the dispatcher, giving them your address and the details. Your ears were ringing, unable to make out exactly what he was saying.
"They're on their way," he reassured softly. "It’s gonna be okay."
You nodded weakly, grappling with the aftermath. Rafe stayed close, seated next to you.
"They'll take him to the hospital," He murmured, more to himself than anyone else. "He'll get the help he needs."
"I... I didn't mean to..." you finally managed to whisper, your voice trembling.
Rafe’s hands griped your own, despite the blood coating it, "I know.”
The minutes felt like hours as you waited for the ambulance. You just wanted it to be over.
When the paramedics finally arrived, Rafe guided them to Luke's unconscious form while you sat numbly on the couch. They immediately went to work, assessing his condition and preparing him for transport. Police officers soon followed, asking questions, and taking statements. Rafe handled most of the interaction, shielding you from the brunt of their inquiries. You watched in stunned silence as they worked.
He stayed close by, offering quiet reassurances and answering the paramedics’ questions.
After what felt like an eternity, they finally moved Luke onto a stretcher and carried him out of the house. Rafe followed them to the door, speaking briefly with one of the paramedics before they loaded Luke into the ambulance and drove away.
He kneeled in front of you, “You can’t say here, okay? They called JJ, he’s on the mainland, but he’ll take the first ferry down here tomorrow.”
You nodded weakly, your body feeling as if it had been drained of all energy.
"Come on," Rafe urged, helping you to your feet. "Let's get you out of here."
He guided you out of the house and into his truck, the engine already running. The drive was quiet, the only sound being the hum of the engine and the occasional sniffle from you.
Rafe reached over, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. You slumped back in the plush seat, eyes closed, trying to steady your breathing, too embarrassed to look at him.
“I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for.”
You didn't even register where you were headed until the truck pulled to a stop. When you finally opened your eyes, you realized you were at Rafe’s place.
Tanneyhill.
It felt odd, being there after so long, and under such circumstances. He helped you out of the truck, guiding you inside with a protective arm around your shoulders.
"Sit down," he said gently, leading you to the living room. "I'll get you some water."
You sank into the expensive couch, feeling the soft cushions envelop you. It was weird sitting in Rafe’s home after everything that had happened.
He returned quickly with a glass of water, pressing it into your trembling hands.
"Drink," he instructed, sitting beside you.
You took a small sip, the cool water soothing your dry throat. Rafe watched you closely, concern etched across his features.
"You need to rest," he said. "I’ll be right here."
"But I—"
"You need to rest," he repeated firmly, but not unkindly. "We can talk more in the morning.”
There was a part of you that wanted to argue, to insist that you were fine, that you didn’t need his help. You’d done this for years, alone.
And yet, here he was, offering you help. Maybe it was the exhaustion, maybe you just missed him, but for once in your life, you didn’t fight him.
You nodded, letting him take you upstairs.
"Let's get you cleaned up," he said, noticing the blood still on your skin and clothes. "You can’t go to bed like this."
At this point, you were too tired to speak, simply following his instructions as he led you inside, guiding you to the bathroom.
"Here," he said, turning on the shower and adjusting the temperature. "Take your time. I'll leave some clean clothes for you right outside the door."
You nodded gratefully, stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind you.
The sound of the water running was comforting, a small sense of normalcy. You stripped off your clothes, your hands trembling slightly as you pulled your shorts off.
The sight of the dried blood on your hands and shirt made you want to burst into tears, again.
Stepping into the shower, you let the warm water cascade over you, washing away the grime and blood. The heat soothed your tense muscles, and you stood there for a long time, eyes closed, letting the water work its magic.
Slowly, you began to wash yourself, scrubbing away the remnants of your father’s presence. The soap smelled of lavender, and somehow you found yourself smiling for a second, realizing this was Rafe’s scent earlier. You washed your hair, the routine bringing you back to the present. As the water rinsed off, clarity slowly returned. You were still scared shitless, but that shower gave you a moment of peace. Stepping out, you wrapped yourself in a fluffy towel and took a deep breath.
Rafe had left a pair of sweatpants, boxers and a t-shirt outside the door, just as he said he would.
You dried off and changed into them, feeling a bit more like yourself. They were a little big, but they were warm and comfortable.
They were Rafe’s.
You opened the bathroom door to find him waiting in the hallway. He seemed relieved to see you and you hated yourself for making him worry so bad.
"Feeling better?"
"A little," you admitted. "Thank you."
He nodded. "Come on, let's get you to bed."
He led you to what you assumed was a guest room, the bed already made up with fresh sheets.
"Sit here," Rafe said, motioning to the edge of the bed. He disappeared for a moment, returning with a first-aid kit. He kneeled in front of you again, this time with a different purpose. "Lemme see your hands."
You hesitated, then slowly extended them. They were scratched and bruised, remnants of how fucked up your father was.
Rafe’s touch was gentle as he cleaned the wounds, using antiseptic wipes to carefully remove the blood that you hadn’t been able to get rid of in the shower.
“This might sting a bit,” he murmured, his voice soothing despite the warning.
It made you wince, but you bit your lip, staying silent.
"I’m sorry," he said, noticing your discomfort.
"’M used to it. It’s okay,” You nodded, biting your lip as he cleaned the wound.
The antiseptic burned, but you focused on Rafe’s face, the way his brow furrowed in concentration, the softness in his eyes as he wrapped your hand with practiced care.
“I didn’t want to drag you into my mess.”
Rafe paused, his hands stilling for a moment.
“You’re not a mess.”
Your chuckle was short and stifled, “Right.”
His fingers continued their work, securing the bandage with gentle precision. “I mean it.”
You swallowed hard, the weight of his words pressing against the barrier you'd built around your heart. “Why—Why did you pick up the phone?”
“You know why.”
Rafe’s tone was final, leaving no room for conversation as he finished wrapping your hand and set it gently in your lap.
“There,” he said, “All done.”
You sank into the mattress as he pulled the blankets over you.
He was tucking you to bed, so…lovely, so not like the Rafe you met years ago. It made your heart hurt. No one had ever cleaned your wounds.
“C-Can you stay here?”
Rafe paused, turning from where he was adjusting the pillows, "I don’t think—”
“Please.”
Without a word, he slipped off his shoes, climbing into bed beside you. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. The warmth of his body against yours, his steady heartbeat, the scent of lavender and something uniquely Rafe—it all made you feel safer than you had in a long time.
"It's okay. I'm here. You're safe."
You buried your face in his chest, feeling the tears start to flow again, but this time they were tears of release, of letting go. Rafe held you tighter, his hands gently rubbing your back, his touch tender.
He didn't say anything more, just held you. As the minutes passed, your breathing gradually slowed, matching the rhythm of his. The tension in your body began to melt away, your eyes grew heavy.
"Thank you," Your voice was muffled against his chest. "For everything."
Rafe pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head.
"Sleep.”
You snuggled closer, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek, finally feeling at home.
You woke up the next morning to an empty bed, the warmth of Rafe’s embrace replaced by the cold reality of the previous night’s events. The room was dimly lit, the morning sun casting soft rays through the curtains. You sat up, your mind hazy with sleep, and glanced around, your heart sinking as you realized Rafe was nowhere to be seen.
For a moment, you wondered if it had all been a dream, but the dried blood on your clothes, lying by the floor and the faint echo of fear told you otherwise. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself as you swung your legs over the side of the bed.
Your father, the struggle, the blood—Rafe’s comforting presence.
You felt an immense amount of guilt as you remembered how you had leaned on him for support after you cut him out of your life.
He was already dealing with so much because of his own father, and now you had burdened him with your problems.
You rose from the bed, the oversized sweatpants and t-shirt Rafe had given you hanging loosely on your frame. You made your way to the door, listening for any sounds that might indicate where he had gone. As you walked down the hallway, you heard a faint voice coming from the kitchen. Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized Rafe’s voice, speaking in low, urgent tones.
You hesitated for a moment, your curiosity getting the better of you. Slowly, you made your way towards the kitchen, the sound of Rafe’s voice growing clearer with each step.
“…I don’t care what it fucking takes,” Rafe all but spat, his tone filled with determination. “Yeah, I know the charges will stick. Just make sure he doesn’t get out on bail. I don’t want him anywhere near her again.”
He paused, listening intently. You took a step closer, peering around the corner to see him standing by the kitchen counter, his phone pressed to his ear. The intensity in his eyes was unlike anything you’d seen before.
“No, she’s fine,” he continued, “But I want to make sure she stays that way.”
You stopped in your tracks, your breath catching in your throat. Rafe was talking about your father, and the realization hit you in the face.
He was trying to protect you, even now.
“Rafe…”
Rafe turned around, his eyes widening as he saw you standing there.
“I’ll call you later." He quickly ended the call, slipping his phone into his pocket as he approached you, “Hey, you’re awake,” he said, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.
“What were you doing?” you asked, “Who were you talking to?”
“Hmm?”
“Rafe,” You warn, too tired to play games, “Who were you talking to?”
He sighed, looking impossibly uncomfortable as you sized him up, “My lawyer. Getting a restraining order for you.”
The confirmation nearly made your brain split into two.
“What?”
Rafe hesitated, knowing he couldn't hide the truth from you. Not that he even tried lately. He ran a hand through his buzzed hair, a gesture you recognized as a sign of his unease.
"I'm trying to get a restraining order against your father."
"Why?"
His eyes bore into yours, a silent plea for you to understand, “Because you need one.”
Rafe was going to bat for you, putting himself in the line of fire to protect you from the man who had haunted your life for so long. Tears welled up in your eyes as the enormity of his actions sank in.
“I’m sorry.”
He ran a hand over his face.
“Maybank, what happened last night… it’s not something you should ever have to deal with. I should’ve been here sooner. I should’ve—"
“You couldn’t have known.”
Rafe shook his head, "I should've been here.”
You walked closer, closing the distance between you. "Rafe, you don't owe me anything."
He reached out tentatively, his hand hovering in the air for a moment before he gently cupped your cheek. His touch was familiar, comforting and you leaned into it, closing your eyes briefly.
"I owe you everything," he murmured.
You let out a shaky breath, “Don’t say that.”
He tilted your face up, forcing you to look into his eyes, his thumb brushing away a stray tear, “You think I’d be there if it wasn’t for you? Shit— Pretty, look around. It’s just me.”
Your heart pounded in your ribcage, the sincerity in his eyes making it hard to breathe.
You had spent so long building walls, convincing yourself that you didn’t need anyone, that you could handle everything on your own.
“You’ve been alone?” You all but sob, “You’ve been here all this time? By yourself?”
Rafe’s jaw tightened, “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry,” His hand on your cheek trembled slightly, the vulnerability in his voice laying his heart bare. “I’m okay, see?”
You reached up, covering his hand with yours, “I was so angry at you.”
“Baby—”
“You don’t understand,” you explained, voice cracking slightly, “I just... I didn’t know what to do.”
He drew you closer, his other arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you against him. You melted into him instantly.
"I deserved it,” Rafe muttered, his breath warm against your ear.
You shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks.
"You told me you were getting clean, that you were seeing a psychologist, and I-I wasn’t there.”
Rafe’s grip on your hand tightened, his eyes pleading with you to understand. “I was a train wreck, and I hurt you. You needed to protect yourself.”
“But I should’ve been there for you,” you insisted, your voice breaking. “You were trying to get better, and I just... walked away.”
“Jesus Christ Maybank” He tried to laugh, but it sounded more like a groan, “Stop the waterfloods, you’re gonna make me cry.”
“Shut up,” You let out a genuine laugh, despite the ugly crying, “’M trying to apologize—“
“You don’t have to, baby,” He cut you off, shaking his head, “Not to me, or anyone else.”
His breath mingled with yours, his presence soothing you in a way you hadn’t felt in months.
Your heart pounded in your chest as he closed the distance, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, hesitant kiss. It was as if he was testing the waters, ensuring you were okay with this, and when you didn’t pull away, the kiss deepened. His hand moved to the back of your neck, holding you gently but firmly as his lips explored yours.
You felt yourself give in to him, your hands gripping his shirt to make sure it was real.
You’d dreamed about him for too damn long to understand the difference. The kiss was slow, deliberate…loving. Each touch, each movement, was a reassurance, a silent promise that he was here, that he wouldn’t let go.
As you broke apart, gasping for air, lips swollen and shining, Rafe rested his forehead against yours again, his breathing ragged.
“Can’t believe you made me fall in love with a pogue.”
Oh.
You blinked, caught off guard.
“In love?”
Rafe bit his lower lip, “Yeah.”
You could see the anxiety roaring inside him. The way his shoulders seemed to squeeze back in, eyes dropping to your lips.
"I never thought I'd fall for a kook," you teased gently, brushing your fingers lightly against his cheek.
“Don’t play with me,” He huffed, dropping his head against your shoulder, teeth grazing against your skin, “Fucking hell.”
You tilted his chin up gently, meeting his gaze with sincerity, “I mean it, Cameron.”
His eyes examined yours for a long moment as if confirming your words. Then, without a word, he closed the distance between you once more. This time, there was no hesitation, no uncertainty.
His hands roamed over your body, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t get enough. The kiss was so different from the one before. You could feel the heat building between you, that undeniable chemistry pulling you together.
His hands slipped under your shirt, his shirt, the touch of his fingertips on your bare skin sending shivers down your spine. Rafe’s lips trailed down your neck, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin there, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You gasped, tilting your head to give him better access. His hands were everywhere, exploring, caressing, making you dizzy with want.
“I need you,” your voice's breathless, fingers clutching at his shoulders.
He paused, lifting his head to look at you, blue eyes darken with desire.
“You’re hurt,” he gulped, “Last night—”
“I don’t care,” you replied, shaking your head. “You fucked me after I got shot.”
"That night was different. We were different."
You nodded, the memory of that night vivid in your mind. The urgency, the desperation, the way you had clung to each other as if you were drowning.
He hesitated for a moment longer, his thumb brushing over the bruise on your cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t,” you promised, pulling him back to you. “I trust you.”
That seemed to be all the encouragement he needed. His restrain visibly slipped away as his lips found yours again as he lifted you effortlessly, carrying you upstairs, to bed and then laying you down gently as if you were the most precious thing in the world.
Rafe hovered over you, his eyes never leaving yours as he stripped off his shirt. You reached up, tracing the lines of his muscles, marveling at the way they moved under your touch. He leaned down, capturing your lips in another searing kiss, his hands working on the buttons of your shirt.
The clothes disappeared in a blur, and then it was just the two of you, skin against skin, only underwear. His hands and lips were everywhere.
“Y’know how much I missed you?”
You sighed, a smile playing at your lips as you cupped his face, “Tell me.”
Rafe’s breath hitched, his eyes locked onto yours, filled with a mixture of tenderness and desperation.
“Every damn day. Every fucking minute. I’d close my eyes and all I could see was you.”
His voice trailed off, but his hands spoke for him, tracing patterns along your sides, sending shivers through you. His touch was reverent as if he was rediscovering you, piece by piece.
You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer, your bodies aligning perfectly.
“I’m here now.”
Rafe’s lips curved into a smile against your skin, his hands sliding down to grip your hips, holding you steady. “You sure you’re okay?”
You nodded, pressing a kiss to his jaw, “More than okay. I want this. I want you.”
He kissed his way down your neck, his lips leaving a trail of heat as they moved lower.
“I love the way you laugh," he purred against your skin, his lips trailing down your collarbone. "The way your eyes light up when you talk about something you care about. How strong you are, even when you don't realize it."
You shivered at his words, your heart swelling with love for the man holding you so tenderly. "Rafe..."
He kissed your lips softly, silencing you.
"I love the way you look at me," he continued, his hands slipping under your shirt, his shirt, caressing the bare skin beneath. "Like I'm the only person in the world. Like I matter."
You could feel tears welling up in your eyes, overwhelmed by the intensity of his words, his touch.
"You do matter," you whispered, your voice breaking. “You matter to me.”
Rafe's hands moved lower, teasing the waistband of your, his, boxers.
“I love how brave you are," he said, his voice husky, "How you face everything, even when it's terrifying."
He slid them down slowly, his eyes never leaving your face.
"Last night," he said, his voice trembling slightly. "I was terrified. I thought I was gonna lose you.”
You reached for him, your fingers tangling in his grown-out hair, pulling him closer. "I'm here," your lips brushed against his, "I'm right here."
Rafe's hands found your hips, his touch firm and reassuring. "I love you," he said again, "And I need you to know that. Shit, I need you to feel it."
You nodded, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I do. I feel it."
He kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth with a desperate urgency. He took his time, worshiping you with every touch, every kiss, making sure you knew exactly how much you meant to him.
His lips found your breasts, kissing and teasing, his hands caressing your sides, your hips. You moaned, arching into his touch, your body trembling with need. "Rafe..."
He looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire, a small smile playing at his lips.
"I love the way you say my name. Like it's the only word that matters."
He kissed his way down your stomach, his hands sliding lower, teasing you, driving you wild with anticipation. "I love the way you taste," he breathed, hot against your skin. "The way you feel."
You gasped, your body arching off the bed as his fingers found you, teasing, exploring.
"Rafe, please..."
He kissed his way back up your body, his lips finding yours in a searing kiss.
"I've got you. I'm here. Tell me if you want me to stop."
You shook your head, urging him on. "Don't stop.”
He kissed your hip bones, his hands gently spreading your legs wider. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, and the intensity in them made your breath catch. He moved lower, his lips trailing down your inner thigh, his fingers lightly caressing your other leg.
When his mouth finally reached your core, you gasped, your body arching off the bed. His tongue flicked out, teasing you, tasting you.
The sensation was electric, sending jolts of pleasure through you. Fuck you missed this.
Rafe’s grip on your thighs tightened, holding you in place as he continued his slow, deliberate assault.
He explored you with his tongue, each movement precise, intentional. He found a rhythm that made your head spin, alternating between gentle flicks and firm strokes. You moaned, your fingers tightening in his short strands, pulling him closer, needing more.
Rafe responded to your silent plea, his tongue delving deeper, his hands gripping your thighs harder. The pressure built, an overwhelming wave of pleasure that threatened to consume you. He groaned against you, the vibration sending you even higher.
"Oh, Rafe," you gasped, your breath coming in short, desperate bursts. "Don't stop. Please, don't stop."
He didn't.
He increased his pace, his tongue moving faster, his hands sliding under your hips, lifting you slightly to give him better access. You could feel the heat pooling in your core, the pleasure building to an unbearable peak.
Rafe’s mouth never left you, his tongue driving you to the brink. You cried out his name, your body trembling as you teetered on the edge. He sucked gently, his tongue flicking rapidly, and that was all it took. You shattered, not a wave, but an entire ocean of ecstasy crashing over you, your vision going white as the pleasure consumed you.
He continued his ministrations, guiding you through your orgasm, his tongue and lips never slowing, drawing out every last bit of pleasure.
When you finally came down, your body spent and trembling, Rafe kissed his way back up your body, his hands soothing the aftershocks with gentle caresses.
He hovered over you, his lips capturing yours in a deep, passionate kiss. You could taste yourself on him, the intimacy of it making your heart swell.
"My perfect girl," he growled against your lips.
Your bruised hands roamed over his broad shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles as he held himself back. He shifted, pressing his hips against yours, letting you feel his arousal. You moaned into his mouth, your hands moving lower, wanting to touch him, to feel him inside you.
Rafe’s breath hitched as your fingers brushed against the waistband of his boxers, teasing him.
“Are you sure about this?” He asked again.
He cared so much it nearly sent you into an emotional spiral again.
“I’ve never been more sure.”
That was all he needed.
In one swift motion, he shed his boxers, and you took in the sight of him, hard and ready. He moved over you, positioning himself between your legs, his eyes never leaving yours. He took his time, teasing you with his fingers, making sure you were ready for him.
You gasped, arching your back as he entered you slowly, his movements deliberate, and controlled.
God, you missed feeling every inch of him.
He paused, giving you a moment to adjust, his forehead resting against yours. “Fuck, I missed this,” he groaned, his voice strained with restraint.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him to move. “Don’t hold back,” you almost sobbed, your breath hot against his ear. “I want all of you.”
Rafe needed no further encouragement.
He began to move, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm, each thrust deep and controlled. The pleasure built with every movement, the sensation of him filling you completely driving you wild. Your fingers dug into his back, your nails leaving marks as you clung to him, needing the connection.
He kissed you deeply, his tongue mimicking the movements of his hips, the sensation of his lips on yours amplifying the pleasure. His hands roamed over your body, one sliding under your back to pull you closer, the other tangling in your hair, holding you in place as he devoured you. You matched his rhythm, you bodies moving together in perfect harmony. Rafe’s pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more urgent, his control slipping.
His words, the sound of his voice, sent shivers down your spine.
“Don't stop, baby- Oh, fuckkk. Please, d-don't stop."
"I won't," he promised, his voice a low growl. “Never stopping."
With those words, he lost the last of his restraint, his thrusts becoming harder, faster, driving you both toward the edge. The room filled with the sounds of your passion, the slap of skin against skin that made you absolute feral for him, the desperate moans and gasps of pleasure.
You didn’t understand the sudden urge, but before you could think about it, you were pushing against Rafe’s chest.
“Your turn,” you murmured, flipping him onto his back with ease and straddling him.
He looked up at you slightly startled, hands resting on your plush hips as you settled over him and you swore he never looked prettier.
“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, his hands sliding up your sides, over your tits, cupping them gently. “Every part of you.”
You leaned down, his stubble grazing your skin, burning you most deliciously. You feel him rubbing against you, his tip touching your clit just right and you couldn’t help the satisfied moan that escaped your lips. You broke the kiss, sitting up and grinding your hips against his, feeling the heat building between you again.
“You like that?” you teased, your voice low and sultry, your fingers trailing down his chest.
“Fuck, yes,” he whimpered, his grip on your hips tightening. “You feel amazing.”
You reached between you, guiding him to your entrance. The sensation of him sliding back inside you was electric, drawing a gasp from both of you. You started to move, slow at first, savoring the feeling of him filling you completely.
Rafe’s hands roamed over your body, caressing, teasing, driving you wild. “God, you’re perfect,” he murmured, his eyes locked onto yours. “Ride me, baby. I want to see you come again.”
His words sent a shiver down your spine, spurring you on. You increased your pace, rolling your hips, finding the angle that drove you both to the edge. Your hands braced against his chest, your nails digging into his skin as you rode him harder, faster.
“Fuck, Rafe,” you gasped, your breath coming in short, desperate bursts. “You feel so good inside me.”
He groaned, “You can’t be real,” his hands guided your hips, urging you to move faster. “This can’t be real—Shit, keep doing that.”
The pleasure built with every movement, your bodies moving together like they never parted.
You could feel the heat pooling in your core, the tension building, ready to snap. Rafe’s hands slid up to your breasts, teasing your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through you.
“Come for me, baby,” Rafe urged, his voice rough with desire. “I want to feel you come around me.”
His words pushed you over the edge. You cried out, your body arching, your vision going white as the orgasm crashed over you. Rafe groaned, his hips thrusting up to meet yours as he followed you into ecstasy, his release filling you, pretty hisses and groans filling your ears.
You collapsed against him, both of you breathless, spent, and completely satisfied. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, his lips brushing against your ear.
You buried your face in his neck, overwhelmed by how loved you felt. You’d never felt anything like this before. His heartbeat echoed against your chest.
As you started to shift to look at him, you noticed he was staring at you with an expression that caught you off guard. His eyes were wide, intense and unwavering, almost as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
"What?" you asked softly, a smile tugging at your lips despite the slight confusion.
Rafe blinked, as if snapping out of a trance. His hand reached up to gently trace your cheekbone.
"I can't believe you're real."
"Rafe..."
He silenced you with a gentle kiss, his lips brushing against yours in a tender caress. "I love you, Pretty Maybank."
"I love you too.”
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if the world was ending (i’d wanna be next to you)
kang haerin x f!reader
synopsis: what would you do if the world was ending?
word count: 1k
tags: angst, fluff in a way??, world end au, mentions of other newjeans members but this is haeyn centric, also 6th member ig
haerin found out the world was ending on a tuesday.
she had just left her local coffee shop, the bell jingling behind her, when her phone rang.
that must be yn, she thought, picking up the call without much thought.
“yn-“
“i love you.” she heard you say over the phone, your voice shaking as you spoke.
“is everything okay?” haerin asked, worry evident in her voice.
“can you come over? quickly.” you said in the same tone as before.
“of course. but why?”
“the world is ending.”
“oh. i’ll be right there, i love you.”
“i love you too.��
you heard the beep of the phone as haerin hung up and you slid down the wall, staring at the floor blankly as you cupped your face in your hands.
the tv droned on in the background, and you could just about make out some more information about the exact details of how the world would be destroyed over the constant train of your thoughts. you decided that sitting around wasn’t a very good use of your last moments, so you picked up your phone again and called minji.
she picked up almost immediately, “i guess you’ve heard.”
“i… have. are you with hanni?”
“yeah, hanni and dani are both here.”
“have you called hyein yet?”
“dani did.”
“what did she say?”
“uhhh…” you heard some muffled voices on the other end. “she’s still on the phone now.”
“do you think me and haerin can make it there if we drive?”
“literally everyone’s driving right now. there’s no chance.”
there was a pause, and though you couldn’t see minji’s face, you knew what expression she was making.
“minji,” you whispered, like it was a secret. “i’m scared.”
“me too.” she confessed. “i’ll- i’ll miss you.”
“i’ll miss you too.“ you let out a stifled sob as you let it sink in— the world was ending, and you were all going to die.
you didn’t want to die. you and haerin had finally moved out of the dorms into your own apartment, and that was recently.
it was just kind of… unbelievable that this morning was the last morning you would ever spend together. and this afternoon was the last afternoon before you died.
you found some solace in the fact that today was your off day and you didn’t have any schedules.
the door unlocked with a click as haerin rushed in, hurriedly taking her shoes off and running over to you. she held your face gently in her hands, softly tracing circles with her thumb.
“it’s going to be okay.” she said, her eyes meeting yours.
“but what about our future together?” you looked up at her, your eyes glistening. “what about us?”
her arms wrapped around you, and you breathed in her scent. she smelled just like she usually did— floral perfume and jasmine shampoo, and you wondered how this could be so normal when everything else seemed to be tipped upside down.
a tear slipped down your cheek as minji’s voice sounded from your phone.
“hello? yn? are you there?”
“minji unnie!” haerin exclaimed.
“haerin? are you at yours now?”
“no, i’m with hyein.”
“what?”
“i’m kidding, how would i be using yn’s phone in america?”
“i don’t know,” minji sighed. then, in a smaller voice, she said “i’m glad you’re safe, haerinnie.”
“you too, unnie.”
there was a long pause, where all three of you tried to take in each other’s presence for the last time. then, minji spoke.
“i’m… going to hang up now. i love you.”
something about it seemed so final, but at the same time, you couldn’t imagine that tomorrow, you wouldn’t wake up and call minji because you were late for pick up time and she wouldn’t sigh and tell the manager that they would have to wait— that tomorrow, you wouldn’t wake up at all.
“i love you too!” haerin replied, and you repeated her words.
the three beeps sounded signifying the end of the call, and that was that.
“the last time we ever talk to minji,” you said, bitterness seeping into your tone.
“it feels so… surreal.”
haerin stared blankly at the wall.
“how are you so calm right now?”
“i mean, if these are my last moments on earth, i want to spend them happy, with you.”
you stopped, contemplating her words. then, you reached your arms out, and haerin smiled, rushing into your arms.
“you know all the things we put off saying we’ll do them another time?”
“yeah?”
“well we can’t do them another time, so let’s do them now.”
the next few hours were spent doing things you loved— baking cookies, and making a cake for your anniversary which had passed a few days ago. you ate them all, not caring about the restrictive diet your company had set. you drew each other, laughing at the end result, and looked through your camera rolls, reminiscing the past.
(“we were so young back then,” you smiled, looking at a selfie all of newjeans had taken.
“i know! we look like babies.”
haerin scrolled to the next picture— “wait! you’re not allowed to see that!” she said, hurriedly changing the picture again.
“i wanna see!” you complained, reaching for her phone. she held it up out of your grasp, but you had a trick up your sleeve.
“HEY!” she yelled between laughter. “STOP- STOP TICKLING ME!”
“give me your phone.”)
finally, you both crawled into bed— haerin lay on top of you, resting her head onf your chest.
“i love you.” you said, smiling. you felt your eyes fill up with tears. “let’s meet in the next life.” it felt so final, like it was the end, the last time you would ever say it.
“i love you too.” she looked up at you, a singular teardrop rolling down her cheek.
and despite the fact the world was falling apart, you felt whole.
a/n: sorry the pacing is AWFUL i write all my fics like five words at a time 10 mins before sleep
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Telling the Truth
"Why didn't you tell us?"
"Why would I?"
"What? We're your-"
"Friends, yes, I know, but think about it. Think, with me. First thing I could tell you is 'We're guaranteed to win'. Cool! Blinding great. Except you'd know that winning was costing me my life. Something that seems to have upset you, even AFTER the fact!"
"Well, yes, that's because it's your LIFE! We didn't…we don't want you to die for us, Siffrin!"
"Even if it meant saving all of Vaugarde?"
"…"
"We did NOT save Vaugarde without that wish. I can tell you that with a straight face. In whatever magic realm of make believe where I don't wish, we're all standing still as statues right now. I knew that as SOON as I knew that I'd made a wish. You don't need that choice in your mind. Especially not when I'm the one who's dying…If I'm the one feeling it, it should be my choice, shouldn't it?"
"Siffrin…"
"You said first thing you could tell us. Implying there were more things." Odile's voice was stern. Cold. Steel. Good, she was the one person who could understand without her heart weeping. Maybe, just maybe, she could convince the others.
"Oh, there were plenty more things to tell you! Like how the end of the King wasn't the end of the loops? How we were trapped here, by whatever this was? Would you want to know that? That every time we won, it was just washed away like a kayak too far at sea?! Or how about everything I'd failed to do, would you want the list of that?"
"Yes."
The word cut through everything else. Her stare was impassive. Almost empty. Somehow, colder than before.
"Well, I didn't want to tell you about it. It was over a dozen loops before I found that out, and can you imagine having…having THIS conversation a dozen times? Two dozen? Watching your heart break every single time? Watching Mirabelle sob, watching Isabeau practically shut down? Just so I could have a scrap of comfort?! Any Siffrin that would do that to you is a Siffrin that wouldn't have wished at all. Any person who would destroy all of you, who would break all of your hearts, just to have two days of understanding, that person's on the path to being the next King."
"Siffrin. This was…" Odile, of all people, having to choose her words carefully. She was close to understanding. She was close to breaking. It was in her pose, her words, her face. "Not a matter of emotions, beyond a certain point. While I believe you, and your kind heart does you credit…You clearly, fundamentally, could only follow one path at a time. If you had shared your knowledge, you could have been done many loops before…We could have helped you."
"No. You couldn't."
"Oh?"
"The books that told the truth? The books that explained how bad I'd blinded myself? Written in a language only I could read! And that was AFTER I killed myself trying to speak it! The wish, to make the Head Housemaiden tell us what happened? None of you could've believed hard enough! Yeah, I could've asked you about staying together…If I'd had any reason, at all, to think that's why I was looping. NOTHING said that! That wasn't the wish I made, I wished to stay with Mirabelle. I could do that even if you all split up. It would've blinding HURT, but I could have! Nothing. Nothing at all you could have done would save me. Not until the end. Not until you DID."
"You have some proof of this?"
A thud. A book, borrowed from the House…stolen, truly, but no one there could read it, and what good was a book no one could read? A book, laying on the ground between them, the sound of it having shocked the other two from their emotional stupors.
"If you can read this…If you can tell me the title of this…I'll admit I was wrong."
Odile's hands were shaking. Odile's hands never shook. Not with the tremors of age, not with exhaustion, but now…With her fingers outstretched to the book, she was trembling. Cautious. Like it would bite her. She picked it up, turned it around, and stared at it.
Her eyes widened. Then narrowed. Flicking across the title. Opening the book, and her eyes darting back and forth. Looking for something, for anything, as even the steel in her soul bent under the weight. Her back hunched, her brow furrowed, and the signs of a headache were obvious.
A flip of the page.
Another.
Then, a scream of rage, as she tossed the book into the campfire, and fell to the ground, clutching her knees. She sobbed. The Madame, the great Odile, unflappable, steel-spined and sharp-eyed, sobbed like a lost child. It felt like the most damning victory imaginable.
"That's why I didn't tell you. How you're feeling right now. I'd do that to you, every time, for NOTHING." They had to understand, by now. Looking around, at the shattered wrecks of the three, hearing sobs and seeing blank-eyed stares, they did.
Now, only now, could the healing actually start. Now that they believed. Now that they knew. Now that they understood what hat happened, and what impossible choices there were to make. Now that it wasn't 'Silly Siffrin got mixed up in emotions, isn't it cute?', now that it wasn't 'We can talk about whatever happened, Feelings Buddy!', now that it wasn't 'Oh, your fee-fees, your ling-lings'.
Loop said to tell them the truth. They knew how much it would hurt when they said it.
Well, let's see how that works.
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flowey-centric - first person pov - 750~ words
this was supposed to be the introduction for a fic i'm writing, but I decided that it doesn't really fit with the rest of what I had in mind, so I'm posting it here as a standalone. hope you all like it.
Stale monotony has its claws tightly wrapped around my stem. I've exhausted every possibility I can. There is nothing else I could possibly think of doing. Boredom engulfs me, and excitement is faraway.
Whenever I'm feeling lost, I visit my best friend’s grave and talk to them. I know they aren't listening to anything I say. They're gone, body long decomposed and SOUL shattered into space. There isn't anything left of them. Still, words spill from my lips like a waterfall, as I talk about anything that comes to mind.
It's soothing, in a way.
Then, without any warning, something heavy falls from the sky while I'm mid-sentence and collides with the patch of flowers, right on top of their grave. I barely manage to burrow into the ground in time to avoid getting hit.
I resurface a distance away. I'm about to rip apart whatever interrupted me so rudely, but when I get closer, I see it.
Smooth flesh, the rise and fall of its chest, a heartbeat – there's no mistaking it. This is a human.
An actual, real human.
This is the first time a human has fallen since I woke up in this form.
What fortunate timing. I had saved shortly before this, right when I arrived to talk to Chara. I have the perfect point of return if I want to retry anything.
Hee hee… We’re going to have so much fun together. I just know it.
I bring myself back to the present, and that’s when I hear it: the human whimpering softly, hands clutching their leg, which is bent at a weird angle… I think. I'm not actually sure. There aren’t a lot of books about human anatomy down here, but Chara’s legs never looked like that, in any case. I suppose they must have broken it on the way down. I crane my stem upwards, and…
Wow. I never realized how long of a fall that was. Yeah, I can see why that would have happened.
I’m about to introduce myself, when I hear footsteps. Even and steady, the slightly muffled sound of soft paws on the floor – it’s Toriel.
Irritation flashes through me. Seriously? Now? Her timing couldn’t be any worse!
I can’t let her see me. This is just too bad. For now, I hide underground and listen. Toriel’s footsteps approach the human, who is still crying. I hear her suck in a breath. She must have seen their leg too.
“Oh, you are hurt! Do not worry, I will fix this.”
The room takes on a soothing atmosphere as magic is gathered into a healing spell. There is the telltale sound of it hitting its target, and the human’s sobs subside slightly. Toriel lets out a breath of relief, and starts speaking: “I am TORIEL, caretaker of the RUINS.”
I’ve heard all this before. I tune her out and slightly lift my head above the ground. It’s a good thing that this patch is full of golden flowers – it’s the perfect camouflage for me.
I can see them now. The human doesn’t say anything, but their eyes shine as they take in Toriel’s appearance, gazing at her in wonder. Heh, the complete opposite of Chara. I remember our first meeting clearly. They had also gotten injured on the way down, and they were apprehensive of me despite me healing their injuries. They looked at my face, then stumbled backwards and exclaimed…
…No, that’s not important. Anyways, the human grabs Toriel’s hand and follows her, walking with a slight limp in their step. She introduces them to the RUINS, explains the puzzles, and makes them solve a few laughably easy ones by themself. It’s utterly mind-numbing. I have half the mind to interrupt them, but no. I have to be patient.
I still hate this, though.
After what must have been years, they finally arrive at her home and pass through the doorway. Toriel brings the kid to my room, and– “This is your new room.”
Wait, what? Their room? No! That’s mine! My room! It belongs to me! It has my glow-in-the-dark stars and toys and everything! Are you kidding me?!
I know she had taken care of the rest of the humans before this one too. But if she’s giving my room to this brat, does that mean…
…
Ha. I knew she had been itching to replace me, but this… Ha. Ha ha ha.
What a bad joke.
She ruffles the human's head. Just like she used to do with–
Enough. I can’t bear to stick around any longer. I’ll check up on the human again later. I burrow into the ground and go as far away from here as possible.
#undertale#utdr#flowey the flower#my writing#this is my first time posting fic on tumblr so if the formatting is bad or anything. looks at you with my big puppy eyes. overlook it please
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Nothing hit harder than:
1. The painful and raw delivery of that line, “I knew something was wrong”, the slight break in his voice, the pauses, swallowing the lump in his throat, it was *chefs kiss* 🤌✨
2. That single tear. A paid actor in itself
I will forever be in awe of how fucking good Luke N is. These little subtleties can so often be overlooked but I will lap that shit every time 🤌
#I will post a Luke N appreciation post every day until it’s all I can see on the dash#I’m so sick of seeing all the bad mouthing#but anyways#I love this moment so much#yeah it makes me want to sob but that’s why it’s SO GOOD#y’know?#polin#bridgerton#colin bridgerton#luke newton
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My Personal Headcanon On Why Amy's Love For Sonic Died Down Lately (and their dynamic)
When they were younger, Amy's love for Sonic was pretty extreme, and Sonic was, understandable, uncomfortable for the most part. He knows she means well, but that girl needs to calm down.
She can fight, but sometimes her hammer could only stun her enemies for a while. (It took her a long time to get rid of that robot that has been chasing her around Station Square.) She wasn't fully independent yet, even if she fought on her own a couple of times.
She often follows Sonic and his friends around. She is part of the team, but she was not a strong as she is now at the time yet.
She admires Sonic. A LOT. And Sonic knows that. Obviously, he could only run away from something like that, since he is NOT ready for that kind of thing, and whether Amy takes the hint or stop, she still loves him.
...BUT, I think things were slightly starting to change between her and Sonic after Lost World.
Remember this line?
You remember that? Okay, okay. Here's another totally unrelated question:
Before the events of Lost World, when was the last time Amy said "I love you" to Sonic out loud?
...YEP. 😈 (Unless I'm missing something, let me know lmao)
As more games and adventures come out, the characters get slightly older, and Amy is 12 to 13 now, and she is most certainly at that age where her body starts to change, but especially on how she views Sonic.
She knows she loves Sonic, but it was this moment during her change where she actually wanted to admit that she loves him.
I believe that Amy was all about sharing her affection to him not through confessions, but through obvious hints. Sonic totally got it, and there was no need to confess. Sonic knows she loves her.
...But she never said it. And she almost did, but she never did again for a while.
I think this was the moment in her life where, oh, God, she actually loves Sonic. SHE LOVES HIM, WHAT.
And she was looking back at all the times she had with Sonic that she can now see were unpleasant to Sonic (At least that's what she thinks) and that's probably why she isn't so expressive about her love to him than how she used to back then.
She wasn't sure what to do with this realization, and sets aside it for a while, and nearly stayed as her casual, peppy self... until the Eggman War happened.
During the 6 months of being with the Resistance, fighting Eggman's army all day and all night, all she can think of was Sonic.
She dreams that he still with not just her, but with her friends. She just wanted to see Sonic again, she just wants to be with her hero again.
But I'd like to think that she was also thinking about how she used to treat Sonic back when they were younger, how Sonic would almost always run away from her whenever she asks him out, or always look so uncomfortable whenever she gets so close to him.
Cringing at those memories big time, she wanted to change and hopefully when Sonic is okay and comes back, she can be better for him.
...Or will he still find her uncomfortable regardless? Would he even be happy to see her at all if he did survive?
But, hold on! She can't just give up her love for Sonic! He made her who she is today! A peppy, nature-loving, hammer-swinging, confident, brave... loud-mouth... annoying... Sonic obsessed... weak... pathetic... lonely little girl.
If she gives up on Sonic, it'll be like she gave up on the one hedgehog who saved her life. If she didn't she'll still be the same ol' Amy.
I also like to think she had parents a long while before she met Sonic, and was even expecting a little sister, but a robot invasion happened from where she was and attacked her parents and instead of trying to save them, after getting hurt, she ran away, hoping that they'll come back okay. But they never did.
She was all alone, and needed someone, a friend, a new family, someone who will hold her hand, anyone, to be there for her. But she was ignored by lots, and at that point, she's better off by herself, but still longed for company.
Eventually though, her tarot cards told her her future hero, and there might be hope after all. She encountered Sonic, held onto the belief of the cards tight, and the rest is history.
So, with that headcanon in mind, not only did Amy loose her parents that she didn't save because of her cowardliness (she was only so little at the time that happened) and also Sonic, who she thought will be her only hope, but now gone.
She doesn't even care if he did come back, he'd probably hate her now after everything she did to him, always talking about their "future wedding" or forcing him to go to Twinkle Park.
For the last few months of the war, it was nothing but Amy mentally beating herself up for either refusing to change or moving on, and they are both not fine choices.
She loves Sonic, but he does not love her, and she finally, finally realized it. And it's probably for the best if no body loved her at all.
But of course Sonic did survive and all of her worries wash away in an instant, she's just not expressive about her love for Sonic AT ALL now, since she's still worried about it but rather not mention it to Sonic because it doesn't matter.
If Sonic doesn't love her, then her feelings don't matter to him, and according to Amy herself, that is okay.
But also, I'd like to think that Sonic was thinking about his friends a lot up in the Death Egg for the past months, sometimes it's Tails (worried for his safety), sometimes it's Shadow (because he's wondering why he would join Eggman.) At some point, for a few days, Amy was in his mind the longest, and he felt bad about how he thought he was rude and pushy to her.
He wondered if she's not thinking about it too much, and if she is, will she give up on him? Yeah, he doesn't feel the same and still not looking for a relationship, but it's so strange but interesting how anyone could ever like someone like Sonic the Hedgehog. Amy was never afraid to show that, and she probably might be now.
He couldn't help but feel guilty. They were kids when she was like this, but he was so... arrogant at the time too. Not a lot happened at the time yet. He'd always have trouble expressing how much he value his friends, until he shattered the Paradox Prism. (I'd like to think Prime took place before Forces. It makes sense.)
She is such a sweet girl, and he probably made her believe that he didn't care for her. Just because he doesn't feel the same, that doesn't mean he hates her at all.
He wished he never ran away from Amy... Worrying for his little bro and wishing to be a good person for Amy was when Sonic cried in the Death Egg for the first and only time.
Frontiers, in my opinion, is kind of confirming their dynamic now. Sonic is a lot more sincere and kinder to Amy and she is not all hyperactive and lovey to Sonic. There is probably a real reason for this now.
They are both hiding their feelings from them, and they are both unaware of this. Amy, hiding her mental issues from Sonic, and Sonic, hiding his guilt away from Amy.
None of those things are important now. Sonic is with Amy and Amy is with Sonic. They are here with each other. They can be finally be better for each other now.
They don't care if they'll ever be something more when they get older. None of that matters anymore. They are here with each other. They can be finally be better for each other now.
Maybe someday they'll both talk about it, but for now, the present is important. They care about each other too much to think about it right now.
It's the kind of love that is unbreakable. It doesn't even have to be romantic. It's just love. Love is important for everyone, in any form. It's something Sonic and his friends need. And especially Sonic and Amy.
Amy Rose is the living embodiment of love, and without her, a lot would go downhill for Sonic and co. Heck, if it weren't for her, Shadow wouldn't have never remembered Maria's promise, which lead him to save the world with Sonic, before he temporarily disappeared from their lives for a while.
She is always there to lend a helping hand for anybody, even bad guys like Metal Sonic, and despite what she had been through, both in Forces and headcanon wise, she still fights back, even without her hammer.
She will pick you back up on your feet, reminding you that you are important and that you are loved, and that you should never give up. It's pretty much the words of encouragement she herself needed also...
She is still the happy, hyper, butt-kicking hedgehog we all know and love, but she still need someone to pick her back up on her feet after so long. Thankfully, she has her friends and her blue hero. The hero who made her who she is today.
I think Amy has no idea how important she thought she is, but Sonic does. Sonic knows fully well how important she is to a lot of people. It's about time he returns the favor to her. It's his turn to remind her how much a lot of people love her.
How much he loves her.
And I feel like The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog was the moment where their dynamic really shined, but also the starting point of their relationship not only healing, but also the next chapter of what's to come for them.
Everyone, friends old and new, gathered around for a special birthday. A birthday for the confident, unshakable, and radiant Amy Rose.
It was such a special moment in Amy's life. After years of chasing and following the people she look up to, she is part of the team, but most importantly, she is part of the family.
She is fully realized as someone more than just a fangirl, but someone strong, courageous, creative, kind and a big inspiration for others.
I feel like this moment here...
-is where Amy is eternally grateful to call her friends her family. A family she thought she'll never have again. She's not alone anymore, and as long as they're by her side, she'll never will be again.
Her chasing days are over. She's finally caught up to them. She's finally home.
And it's all thanks to Sonic.
If it weren't for him, she'd probably be alone forever. Her past moments with Sonic might be embarrassing to look back on for a while, but they are good memories regardless, because they involve him.
Sonic saved her life in more ways than one, and despite everything, he's grateful to have her too.
He cares about her. He really does... And in her eyes, that all she needed to know. As long as Sonic loves her in his own way, she'll be happy.
Amy hasn't given up on Sonic. As long as Amy always supports him, he'll be happy.
Maybe sometime in the future, they can talk about their problems, but that's a story for another time. At this point, they need to. Right now, they are happy. They are okay.
They are here for each other. They are finally better for each other now.
"You guys won't ever leave me, right?"
"Wouldn't dream of it."
#piko rambles#sonic the hedgehog#amy rose#Meant to be platonic but I don't care if you tag as ship lol#I've been meaning to post something like this for the longest time now but never really got into posting it-#-because you guys REALLY hate seeing these two together for some reason.#Well not for SOME reason. There are valid reasons why you don't ship them. Everyone has valid reason why they don't ship this or that.#But sometimes those reasons can just sound so petty to me. Like the reason why is because Amy is a stalker or Sonic hates her which is FALS#Also those age gap arguments are understandable but so goddamn annoying sometimes. Maybe when they hit their late teens or early twenties-#then they can be together if they want to. Besides a good percentage of Sonic ships are better off if they waited til they're old enough im#I love them regardless of whether they're just friends or an awkward older cringe fail couple lmao#But them being just friends and hiding away all their emotions towards each other just to keep them safe and happy with them- 😭😭😭#Son/adow is my favorite ship of all time and sonamy is my favorite childhood ship/platonic ship because they both have one thing in common.#ANGST 😀#I've been thinking about Sonic and Amy's dynamic as of late and MAN-#Mixed with some personal headcanons of mine and their dynamic as of late just makes me so emotional.#Sonic and Amy have gotten so close now and it's so sweet but so heartbreaking at the same time when you think about it.#I'm so happy they are getting along better and being there for each other but there is so much to dissect here. So much to think about.#I might be a little silly but Amy losing her parents and being alone for so long and being the reason why she's always hanging onto Sonic-#-explains SOOOOOOOOO much about her. At least that's my headcanon for WHY that is.#Amy with abandonment issues speaks to me on a personal level. I'm always afraid of being forgotten or left behind by my family.#I sometimes feel like I'm not good enough no matter how hard I try. I do not blame Amy. I relate to her a lot. It's one of the many reasons#-why Amy is my favorite character besides Sonic and Shadow.#She fights hard to prove she's a valuable member of the team and hates getting left behind but despite all that she wasn't afraid to-#-express herself and her love for people. But after the Eggman War there was some changes that made her less expressive about her love.#Yeah she still loves Sonic but she doesn't admit it because none of that matters anymore and she thought that not being loved by Sonic#-is better than being loved since she nearly wasted her life loving someone who she thought has constantly bothered. 🥲#But I think after TMoStH I think she'll be less afraid of being expressive about it. She and Sonic are just so caring for each other 😭#I love these two way too much that when I think about them for too long I'll start SOBBING 😭😭 I'M EVEN SOBBING RIGHT NOW LMAO
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people will think im ordinary until they say one (1) thing about tmnt and all of a sudden im explaining the entire lore starting from the 1990’s movie & why donatello is the best turtle i fear… T^T
tag limit fights me… i must yap… please listen… SOB </3
#tmnt yap in the taggies !!#would you believe me if i said my cat is named after donnie… teehee !! ^_^#i have been a tmnt lover since i was the ripe age of 6 years old SOBSOB#i used to write bf headcanons on wattpad way long ago… thats where my love for writing started i fear…#i probably have more tmnt merch than i do anime merch which is soso crazy to think about PHEW !!!#notebooks cups plushies legos shirts pajamas stickers tins action figs keychains name something and i have it… is that weird… SOB#im not joking when i say i know the entire lore and could explain everything from start to finish… FOR EACH AND EVERY REBOOT EVER…. wowza…#other than rottmnt because i’ve never been a fan of that reboot sigh…#the only reason donatello hamato isnt on my blorbie list is because i do not want to seem out of touch… he used to be there though !! :3#also i love raph too sigh#i fear donnie was my start to my love for nerdy men… raph was for the mean ones… cough cough akaashi and bakugo#tall lanky men… yeah hes a turtle… i know… let me speak… pls… i beg… T^T#tmnt 2012 will always be my star my light my beloved#i can recite every single episode </3 ALSO THE 2014 & 2017 MOVIES DONT GET ME STARTED i have them on dvd :3#i also have the 1990’s movies on dvd teehee theyre sososososoo good T^T my comfort franchise forever and always#i may always speak of anime but just know tmnt will always be the start of it all and my most beloved <3 its everything to me#also i was and still am an avid tmnt 2012 april oneil hater someone get her out of there i loathe her >:/#was never a supa big fan of leo im very sorry… idk who im sorry to… where are my tmnt fans… am i alone in this world… hello… tmnt fans…#omigosh im back after looking at my old wattpad story IM GIGGLING why was the writing kinda good… it was first person though sigh… goodness#i should create my own tmnt yap tag i fear… i will never shut up about it EVER SOBSOBSOB !! i even had a tmnt party when i was younger </3#donnie ( & mikey ) are so misunderstood UGH i could yap about the lore all day. donnie deserved more recognition he was always doing so muc#FOR ALL of his brothers and they never appreciated it… ill cry right now. donnie you will always be famous to me. april doesnt deserve you.#raph and his temper are so misunderstood too like please. always making him the bad guy HE JUST WANTS TO BE A GOOD BROTHER HES JUST AWKWARD#remembering when i had a crush on a guy names joseph in first grade and he liked tmnt too… joseph just know we were soulmates… i promise </#i used to go up to the tv and kiss the screen when donnie showed up. i was like 6 years old tho its okay… still sleep with my stuffie tho.#thank you to my yaya for buying me that when i had the flu hes still in perfect condition SOB donatello i love you so much UGH im crying#‘thats a mutant turtle ew !!’ HE IS VERY BEAUTIFUL AND LOVEABLE TO ME. YOU WOULDNT UNDERSTAND EVERYPONY </3 nia reference woah hi nia :3#whos in favor of tmnt. raise your hands up high so i can see them. im giggling. tmnt lovers rise we sha’ll prosper… WE RIDE AT DAWN 🦅🦅🦅#is this like totally crazy of me… has anyone read this far… if you have jusy know i love you. i cherish you. you are my everything <3#₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ — lene’s latest gossip .ᐟ
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"Found out" set in kind of a made-up chapter where the girls are in trouble, or something.
#witch hat tag#orufrey#i hate having a strong cinematic image in your mind for months..working hours on it..& at the end looking you have to be like “Sure. :/"#i'm especially unsatisfied with the beginning and the end and how i can't get eyebrows to work as i want#but i dont care any more... this is probably the comic that has given me the most trouble ever i just dont care#i barely even care whatsoever if anyone even sees this..Ugh..but at least i can move on to the next era now#i'm just annoyed i cant get out good enough my image of qifrey flinching bc he thinks oru will hit him but then he is not hit#i feel like sensei will do something along these lines. i want to see what she will do.#there are also other variations i have in my mind. i just want to know#i just don't want it to happen with qifrey on his deathbed or something. but it possibly will. I DONT EVEN KNOW.#i have another very cinematic image in my mind for something sort of along those lines which i will do soon. it never ends...#btw after this is probably my fics. yeah.... i think it has to be my fics. jasmine sort of goes along these lines#i need that space for dialogue. look - i'm a writer. this is HARD for me. so i am really glad i had the space and freedom of words#to process all the feelings. but i tried to get something out in a quick visual space too. <- me defending myself to myself at cai court#anyway going along the lines of 'Jasmine' - they talk this out and argue and cry and oru pushes the hat at him and tells him#why not just erase every memory i have of you then. That would be easier for us all wouldn't it?#they kiss and sob and kiss and lie outside in the flowers for many hours in that one. and then there's 'Deep End' where it turns out#way way way way more time and words is needed for this actually and that's upsetting for everyone.#the destruction of the hat is certainly another path to take. Can you make this work without that hat going up in flames?#something you have always had and have been clinging to will have to be destroyed. You have to lose something now. This is the crux qifrey#I CANT GET IT OUT IN ONE COMIC!!! I CANT DRAW IT OUT!!!! I NEEDED THOSE FICS!!!! PRAISE WORDS!!!! whatever im going to have dinner now
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Every once in a while I think about the ship I've been obsessed over for close to two years now and feel like I'm ascending to another plane of reality. Like sometimes you just encounter a ship that hits every single mark and is perfect in every regard and you're left stunned how something like that can even exist
#Anyways I'mma put the actual inane ramblings in the tags#Medic and Engie make me so ill every time I think about them for a while I feel like tearing into things and biting people and throwing up#How something like that can exist completely defies me#I don't know how something that perfect can exist#I'm typically a multi-shipper and while I still kinda am I honest to god don't really care to write other ships#Not cause they ain't good (they are pretty damn good) but because Engiemedic is just on another level#Like dammnnn!! that's why I've spent so long writing a fic about them!#I can't fathom it honestly how characters like that can exist#They're like a slightly warped reflection of themselves#They're both intelligent mentally ill lunatics with no morals whatsoever#The only thing is that Engie is marginally better at hiding it#If you go into headcanon territory than WHOO!! OHH DAMNNN#Like what gets me the most about Engiemedic is how they're so similar#They think and exist on the same wavelength#In tune with each other. Their neurons braided like wires#If I start talking about how the machine and the flesh are not opposites but rather one in the same we gonna be here all day#I just can't...believe the ship exists#Like man how does this happen#You want humour? Goofy wacky experiments and silliness of them violating several conventions#You want angst? Hell yeah they've got plenty of it#Fluff? Buddy I start wailing and sobbing if they accidentally brush hands while working on stuff#I could write about them for ages and not get bored they can fit in every circumstance#They make me SICK they make me CRAZY I love them so so much#They would do anything for each other#I look at what they have and I can feel like I understand what love is#I need to write more oneshots and minifics about them they're so flexiable and fun#Can't wait to do parallels with them in these upcoming chapters#Either way GODDDDD I love these two so much I could go on for hours about them#especially if I'm allowed to talk about headcanons#sp-rambles
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examining a seemingly normal image only to slowly realize the clear signs of AI generated art.... i know what you are... you cannot hide your true nature from me... go back where you came from... out of my sight with haste, wretched and vile husk
#BEGONE!!! *wizard beam blast leaving a black smoking crater in the middle of the tumblr dashboard*#I think another downside to everyone doing everything on phone apps on shitty tiny screens nowadays is the inability to really see details#of an image and thus its easier to share BLATANTLY fake things like.. even 'good' ai art has pretty obvious tells at this point#but especially MOST of it is not even 'good' and will have details that are clearly off or lines that dont make sense/uneven (like the imag#of a house interior and in the corner there's a cabinet and it has handles as if it has doors that open but there#are no actual doors visible. or both handles are slightly different shapes. So much stuff that looks 'normal' at first glance#but then you can clearly tell it's just added details with no intention or thought behind it. a pattern that starts and then just abruptly#doesn't go anywhere. etc. etc. )#the same thing with how YEARS ago when I followed more fashion type blogs on tumblr and 'colored hair' was a cool ''''New Thing''' instead#of being the norm now basically. and people would share photos of like ombre hair designs and stuff that were CLEARLY photoshop like#you could LITERally see the coloring outside of the lines. blurs of color that extend past the hair line to the rest of the image#or etc. But people would just share them regardless and comment like 'omg i wish I could do this to my hair!' or 'hair goallzzzz!! i#wonder what salon they went to !!' which would make me want to scream and correct them everytime ( i did not lol)#hhhhhhggh... literally view the image on anything close to a full sized screen and You Will SEe#I don't know why it's such a pet peeve of mine. I think just as always I'm obsessed with the reality and truth of things. most of the thing#that annoy me most about people are situations in which people are misinterpreting/misunderstanding how something works or having a misconc#eption about somehting thats easily provable as false or etc. etc. Even if it's harmless for some random woman on facebook to believe that#this AI generated image of a cat shaped coffee machine is actually a real product she could buy somewhere ... I still urgently#wish I could be like 'IT IS ALL AN ILLUSION. YOU SEE???? ITS NOT REALL!!!!! AAAAA' hjhjnj#Like those AI shoes that went around for a while with 1000000s of comments like 'omg LOVE these where can i get them!?' and it's like YOU#CANT!!! YOU CANT GET THEM!!! THEY DONT EXIST!!! THE EYELETS DONT EVEN LINE UP THE SHOES DONT EVEN#MATCH THE PATTERNS ARE GIBBERISH!! HOW CAN YOU NOT SEE THEY ARE NOT REAL!??!!' *sobbing in the rain like in some drama movie*#Sorry I'm a pedantic hater who loves truth and accuracy of interpretation and collecting information lol#I think moreso the lacking of context? Like for example I find the enneagram interesting but I nearly ALWAYS preface any talking about it#with ''and I know this is not scientifically accurate it's just an interesting system humans invented to classify ourselve and our traits#and I find it sociologically fascinating the same way I find religion fascinating'. If someone presented personality typing information wit#out that sort of context or was purporting that enneagram types are like 100% solid scientific truth and people should be classified by the#unquestionaingly in daily life or something then.. yeah fuck that. If these images had like disclaimers BIG in the image description somewh#re like 'this is not a real thing it's just an AI generated image I made up' then fine. I still largely disagree with the ethics behind AI#art but at least it's informed. It's the fact that people just post images w/o context or beleive a falsehood about it.. then its aAAAAAA
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The best feeling in the world is when there’s a piece of media you know you love and you’ve hyped it up as your favorite thing for so long but you haven’t revisited it in a while so you start to worry if it’s really as good as you make it out to be and so you go back and revisit it and it’s like. Oh this is even better than I remembered this shit rules
#the klock keeps ticking#i always get this feeling when i play 999 but tonight i got it with the letter#cuz ive uh finally decided to bite the bullet and play the evil meanie route where everyone dies 😟#a route ive put off for so long cuz its just too damn sad to think about akjdksk god it hurts#and ive played like for the most part every route of this game EXCEPT this one but i know the ending is really dark and i need to see it#plus i will at least get my beloved torture scene in so thats nice#i didnt kill off isabella though its a coma route which i hope still allows me to get the ending i want cuz i mean shell still be out of#commission in the final scene so hopefully it works out#but yeah no i started off tonight on the marianne chapter and while i did skip around through it cuz ive played it many times and i just#wanna get to the important stuff already alskj i also just replayed some of the best parts#aka the shit where lorraine appears and the gay shit alksks and god like hnnnghh not only does this chapter still ruin me emotionally#i also just remembered why i love this character so much and remembered just how good the character writing in this game is#and i also played into the rebecca chapter and didnt skip as much cuz i actually am not as familiar with the coma route#cuz it makes me sad and i never revisited it lol and i havent gotten to The Scene that makes me sob yet#its so coming though dont worry but idk i guess its just been cuz ive been thinking about p3 so much lately#and in particular shinji both the death route and coma route but in particular the coma cuz thats what im writing#and damn lol the letter just writes the grief and nuanced relationships and death stuff so much better lol god#like marianne loses her childhood best friend whom she has a gay ass relationship with to suicide and like its just better#she blames herself and still isnt even kinda okay with it after 13 years#like it just fucking ruined her and the only thing keeping her from losing it is her repression and drinking problem and unattached sex#and then with coma route well fucking first off isabellas friends actually like. visit her frequently damn#and they just all have such unique ways of coping like Zach is being optimistic so no one gets too upset#rebecca is sorta in charge of making sure everything goes smoothly she has to contact the family and make big decisions#and shes also just taking the most stress and shes got so many complicated feelings around isabella going on but she genuinely cannot stand#that isabella is hurt shes fucking destroyed she loves isabella and then ashton AAAAA god yeah i also just remembered that hes SUCH a good#character hes like being a genuine asshole right like Rebecca calls to tell him that isabella is comatose now and he literally doesnt let#her say anything he literally says ‘i dont have time for other things rn’ like the wellness of his friend is just ‘other things’#but you just know thats not it not at all hes burying himself in work to the point of destruction so he can figure out who did this and make#everything okay and he refuses to show even an ounce of vulnerability cuz THE SECOND HE DOES IT ALL COMES OUT AND HE CANT GET OUT OF BED#ANYMORE CUZ HOW IS HE SUPPOSED TO BE OKAY WHEN THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE IS DYING
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i hate that duality that your mind can be your safe heaven that helps you get through some difficult things, keeps you going and brings you happiness at the worst of times. and at the very same time it could be your worst tormentor that won't let you rest and won't let you breathe, literally for no particular reason at all. and you can't leave or silence it. can't get it to stop when it gets dark in there. can't get the light in when you desperately need to feel a respite instead of suffocation.
#its so difficult#sometimes its too much to handle#yeah particularly today im just.. screaming internally#and the inability to do something YOU LOVE due to your brain having one of those bad days so everything feels fucking BAD is just so unfAIR#its frustrating#the only thing you can do is sob apparently#my room doesnt feel like my room anymore all i feel is fear and dread#i just dont understand why and how it came to this point i want out#nothing grounds me to reality or to my normal state and im afraid#instead of watch fav movie to get better ill count the duration time and decide thats its too long i dont have that much time#i will be painfully aware of numbers and wb scared of them and then ill just not move at all immobilized at place#i cant#all i could do is desperately bother my friends trying to connect to them and hiding that obvious ache#i dont have capacity to soothe myself with my favorite guys and gals from games and movies i dont feel anything at all#and i hate that but also i cant do anything im so idk what i feel like but like im not anything#i lost myself i lost my favorite things to do and my hobbies and my spark and everything i dont even know anymore#on small bad days you could conjure a good thoughts and watch somethinf and think about what makes you happy#theres a void in my head now that just counts and counts and counts and cant do nothing#i will just open up a chat w friends and look at empty textspace i want to connect so badly but i wont send anything just freeze still#i dont feel that im in here but i want badly to be here and yet i cant grasp anything to still keep myself real#and like i have a feeling that in next 2 hours I'll just vanish spmething bad will happn carcrash orso i cantbe spendin much timeon anythin#i hate this#suddenly your brain just want you dead and fills you with dread unimaginable and my dumbass thinks that it's right#that my brain is right and im inclined to believe in this shit. im not but deep down i kind of is so thats why this anxiety causes me probl#ms for the whole week i didnt done anything i just could not i want it to stop#its so sure of itself that i will pass away in couple of hours by unknown reasons that it imagined so why even try
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The fav I have the most frequent (and most intense) fights with is actually jing yuan btw
#pattering on the roof#he has a tendency to make me feel stupid and it’s not entirely by accident#he just can’t help himself#like JDNJFNEF I reference it in my meet fruit fic (which was Very selfship coded) but#the first massive fight we have is before we start dating when he’s still like courting me ig#and wheedles me into playing starchess w him#but I’m BAD at starchess okay I hate it I suck at it sucking at it makes me hate it more#and I like him so much and he’s so good and I wanna make a good impression but I SUCK and I leave every time upset#and he knows ofc he does. I’m improving and he loves seeing me improve which is why he keeps asking#eventually he’s like well maybe it’ll help if I let her win#no. it doesn’t. I blow up at him entirely bc I HATEEEE being condescended to and if u wanted someone who could beat u in starchess then go#find someone else u fucking asshole don’t humiliate me like that (<- face puffy weeping literally the only two people in the garden)#and I storm off sobbing. literally refuse to interact w him for MONTHS he’s making every excuse to bump into me and it’s full cold shoulder#I also never fully forgive him for it. we never play starchess again even centuries down the line after we’re married and he’s retired#n e way yeah#p much every fight is similar he just makes me feel dumb sometimes and I lash out at him#and frankly often it’s warranted bc not infrequently he provokes me on purpose#ss.🌧 yujing
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beaver gnawing on wood noises
#purrs#delete later#this is gonna be a bad / hard post and i’ll have to delete it. like it feels like in making it im invoking cosmic forces to show me karma or#idk like being an ingrate or whatever. but sometimes i find myself on social media rabbitholes looking at instagram pages of.. women who#like really genuinely appear to be good moms to their kids. and love them for who they are and don’t try to make them anything different.#and who celebrate their quirks and stuff. and even share interests with them at the bare minimum. and it just makes me want to sob. like the#knot in my throat. i shouldn’t do it bc i just hurt myself but it’s like. im so lucky i have a mom and that she provides for me. and i know#there are valid reasons for that being all she can do. but also why can’t she… idk.why can’t she ummm love me. or celebrate me. or find#magic in me. or at the very least accept my humanness and be open to me like giving her feedback on stuff. even tonight at this panel this o#one woman was like yeah my two daughters call me on stuff and im like you’re right. if i called my mom on stuff (and i do) she would give me#the silent treatment (and she has) or eviscerate me (and she has). and people in my work life and on here call me endearing and say all#these things. but it’s like none of it can fill up the absolute aching pulsing void that is… my mom. my mom!!!!! is just a person i live#with anr resent most of the time. who has hurt me so badly. and i could have had a mom who like. let me sing and didn’t mock me for it.#and who came in and said goodnight to me and my sister instead of leaving us to o ur own devices because we’re twins and we had each other.#and 14 years ago today was the day that fully cemented in that she could not be that kind of mom and would never be. and i know she tried so#hard and i know she has been hurt and is still hurting. but i just want to scream. like everyone deserves a mom who loves them for who they#are and shit. and how fucking unfair is it that.. like it sounds so selfish and entitled. b it how fucking unfair is it that i got a mom who#im afraid of and then there are people like fucking… m*lissa err*co and sh*ron wh*atley (those are just the famous ones) who by all#appearances seem to be like.. not only loving but open. seeing their children as human and magic all at once. instead of a war prize and a#symbol of their own hardships or whatever. like it’s just so fucking unfair. i hate that this is the way things are for me and that it will#never change and that if it ever does i have to be the one to change it or i have to heal from it and let go of it. like FUCK that! i want#love from my mom! FUCK the fact that she can’t give it to me!!! she has to!!!!!! but she won’t. idk. delete post <3#like so genuinely i should not be even typing these words bc god is gonna smite me now lol. but my heart is howling#and the shitty thing is i don’t think i’ll be able to be that kind of mom if i ever become one bc of how badly all of this has hurt me. and#bc of all that i don’t even think i want to become a mom anymore bc i don’t want to be the reason a child feels this way or grows up to.
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listened to francis forever & didn’t cry so. Progress!
#like it absolutely hits yeah#but. i think like. realizing the core of why i want to be able to approach this in a healthy way. is helping me actually work towards being#better about it? like#yesterday i wouldve heard the autumn comes line and sobbed until i was dry heaving#but indulging that part of my brain that just wants to cry and cry and cry about it is just#turning myself into a worse and worse potential friend#and if i become someone who’s not helping at all then i wouldnt feel right being there#but i also like. idk. i want to be someone who can still be there but healthy about it. like i’m hellvent on it#so even if i can’t get myself over it i want to at least. sit healthily on it#i can’t decide if accepting that i am not and will not be over any of it for a long time is a. healthy approach#but it’s helping me hold myself accountable#so it’s good enough#like i’m not. not struggling GDJDHDHD i’m definitely struggling but#i think worrying less about where things are going to end up and thinking more about what kind of person i need to be to not. be like.#to not make things feel worse#and trying to be that#boundaries are hard but i’m trying to hold to them regardless GDJDHDH#mano.mindtalk#neg#kind of??? it’s kind of positive but still a vent kinda so under the neg tag it goes
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Catholicism.
[.... oops I accidentally wrote real analysis in the tags lol]
why is he like this
#les mis#original#the man is just too catholic sorry#poor guy#it's a REALLLLY sad ending if you're an atheist#at least if you believe in God then like. obviously he's going to heaven but if you don't it's like.#OH FOR FUCKS SAKE JEAN [uncontrollable weeping]#he got a new lease on life but that lease said 'you need to at the very least symbolically crucify yourself'.#and he combined that with the self-hatred and isolation that comes with being an ex-con in a society that hates convicts#and so by the time everything is settled and he has nothing else to sacrifice but himself he simply#kills himself in cosette's name and to cosette's utter horror and grief. because if no one NEEDS him then all he knows is self-sacrifice so#it becomes a rather chilling tragedy of what happens when a man is determined to engage in self-sacrifice even when it's not needed#this probably was not Hugo's intention. but to me it's about when self-sacrifice becomes self-harm and that is#the ultimate tragedy of Jean Valjean that I missed when I read it at 15. back when i too believed what my catholic upbringing had taught me.#like I became an atheist at age 11 but the idea that the only way to be a truly good person is to place literally everyone in the world#before myself even if they don't want me to .... I'm still trying to outgrow that at age 30.#and I did not become aware of it being an issue until like my mid-20s.#it wasn't until the past couple years I could actually articulate why the end of les mis was so upsetting to me.#probably bc to me at age 15 it was confirmation that the best thing i could do for the world was to die for it.#when really now what i see is cosette's grief and the utter lack of necessity in Jean's sacrifice and i think how much more beautiful it is#to instead LIVE for one another. because unnecessary self-sacrificial death is just suicide. jean commits suicide bc his belief system#and his trauma and his oppression make it impossible for him to see saving his own life as a moral good.#oh no I've written an actual answer dammit this was meant to be a silly haha post but yeah Catholicism saved him until it damned him#womp womp [uncontrollable sobbing]
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