#you can tell people but telling without experiencing is never the same

[supermenz]

one

summary: One is the loneliest number that you'll ever do; two can be as bad as one, it's the loneliest number since the number one. Or: you're two years old when you lose your parents. Your brother, a kid himself, is unable to give you the love you deserve, and you end up at twenty being as burn out as only a Gotham University student can be. So, what do you do? Change scenery, of course.

pairing(s): clark kent x wayne!reader, bruce wayne x sister!reader, eventual platonic batfam x reader (no use of y/n)

warnings: genius kid trope, kinda doomed siblings, language, there are reference to what happens in "the batman" but there will be a merge of both comics and films, written with david!superman in mind cuz he's my pookie 😞, bruce is so pathetic i love him sm

word count: 2.2k

author's note: my first ever fanfic for the dc universe!! constructive criticism is welcomed as english is not my first language,

next | series masterlist

Gotham has left you feeling more claustrophobic in the last few months than it did all your life. 

Maybe it’s because you’re seeing your brother slip into his work — aka beating criminals in the night as a hobby — more and more, or maybe it’s just your brain playing tricks on you. It’s probably the latter. 

You’ve never been good with emotions — it comes with being a Wayne, and surely, having your parents die before you were three didn’t help your situation. Bruce spending most of your childhood abroad with barely any contact with you also probably didn’t help either. 

“But I’m here now,” he had said once, “Am I not?”

He is, but even if you love him with all your heart, sometimes you think that you’re more like colleagues rather than siblings. Your bond is strained, with him being so closed-off and spending most of his free time cosplaying as a bat, and you having just entered your twenties, trying to get your second degree in biology after an early graduation and an even earlier PhD in engineering. And since his first big case four years ago, neither of you has been the same. 

Your relationship has never been easy. The flood and the Riddler’s case basically forced you to trauma bond over what you both had experienced, as surely no therapist would’ve wanted to hear about all the horrors that you two experienced, even for all the money in the world. Besides, it’s not like Bruce could just enter a therapist’s office and tell them that he’s the fucking Batman. 

As of now, you tend to have your… ups and downs. Both prefer to just hide behind paperwork, projects, cases or research rather than just talk some things out. Because yes, Bruce’s your brother, but that doesn’t mean he’s easy to love. There are some days where he seems to be barely able to talk to you, others where you know he just wants to scream at you for whatever reason, others where… others where you think he might just crumble at your feet and start crying. 

You don’t have a lot in common. Maybe that’s why he manages to stay in Gotham even after all that’s happened — combined with the fact that he’s spent ten years or so abroad. Maybe you need that, too. 

“I’m thinking of moving out,” you tell him during one of your rare dinners together. You have already talked about your plan to Alfred, who has shown his support towards the idea and urged you to get out of Gotham as soon as you could, but you also wanted to tell Bruce — just to be honest with him. 

Yes, he left you to study abroad all those years ago without any kind of goodbye or anything, but you have no intention of leaving him behind like he did to you — you may be grown adults now, but that doesn’t mean that being left behind doesn’t exist anymore. You doubt Bruce would ever feel left behind by you, of all people, but still. “Found a faculty in Metropolis that will be able to transfer all my credits and studies and a nice flat downtown near the Wayne Enterprises’ site there. I think I need a breath of fresh air– I need to go somewhere where the sun actually shines and not everyone has hidden agendas.”

You’ve heard good things about Metropolis, and you think that the Martha Wayne Foundation could be expanded a bit more — somewhere far from Gotham, where surely there are other orphanages, other people in need that could use some help. “I could handle Wayne Enterprise’s gestion and settle our matters there while continuing my studies in a more… calm environment.” calm is a big word for a metropolitan city as big and populated as Metropolis, but every city is calm in contrast to Gotham.  

Your brother doesn’t say anything. He just stares at you, wide-eyed, fork still raised to eat the potatoes Alfred cooked, his face blank. Is he having a heart attack? You didn’t think that you moving out would’ve been such horrendous news for him. Yes, even if you are not that close he’s still very protective, but he went to live abroad at ten. You’re twenty and you’re just… moving to Delaware. It’s not like you’re going to the fucking Himalaya mountains as he did. 

(Meanwhile, Bruce is spiraling. He wonders when the hell did his little sister grow up, how it can be that she isn’t the little girl he used to sway around anymore, and why would she ever want to move out. Is it because of him? Did something happen? 

Isn’t Metropolis in another state? Is he so tremendous that you have to move states in hopes to forget about him? Is he too overbearing? He thought he had always given you enough space to do your own thing–)

Instead of saying all of the things he’s thinking, he tries to muster up a smile, even if it comes out as a grimace. “Alright.” 

He nearly jumps out of his seat when you beam at him — is he really that obnoxious that you can’t wait to move out and have him out of your life? “Oh, I’m happy that you’re taking it well! I was afraid you’d freak out.” you get up from your seat and move over to hug him, and he chuckles nervously. “Why would I? You’re an adult, you can do what you want.” 

(What do you mean?!, his conscience screams in his head, She isn’t even twelve! Just yesterday she was talking about going to the homecoming dance with her friends–

But time has passed, and even if Bruce feels that it was particularly hard on him, he didn’t think it’d affect you too, somehow. It’s weird acknowledging something’s — someone’s — changes in the years in… so little. He had gotten so used to you being his little sister that he didn’t even think about you becoming a full on woman. He still remembers the pink bundle of blankets your parents had given him that day at the hospital, telling him to be careful with her, she’s your little sister.

When have you grown this much? Where did the time go? He swears it was just yesterday when you were admitted to Gotham University.) 

“But… a flat? Are you sure you’ll be comfortable there? It’s not exactly as big as a manor.” 

You avoid his gaze, scratching the back of your head. “Yeah, about that…”

He raises an eyebrow, “Let me guess, you bought the whole building?” 

You snap your fingers, “They don’t call you the greatest detective for nothing!” you sit back down, cutting the meat on your plate, “I plan on making the floors I won’t live in into a laboratory of sort– almost like the Batcave, y’know, so I can continue working on the models I designed undisturbed.”

When Bruce had started his crusade as Batman, you had just gotten your bachelor’s degree in engineering, and were working on your master’s degree. You had basically given him the head-start, creating the software of the Batcomputer (or of the computer, as he calls it), designed and adapted a sport’s car to the Batmobile (just call it the car, Bruce always insists) and basically modified and created every single one of the gadgets and systems he uses. 

You just hope he won’t let the Batcomputer get hacked as soon as you land in Metropolis — you spent weeks programming her and years perfecting her system. You spent so much time on her, she might as well be your firstborn by now. 

“I’ll always be a call away,” you murmur when your brother’s eyes get a little dazy, unfocused– like he’s in another world, always thinking about the worst that could happen. “You know that, right?”

Bruce blinks. “Yeah. Yeah, I– I know that.” 

(He isn't sure about that.) 

You pat his hand, mustering a smile. "Maybe you should take a break, too. Why don't you book a vacation in, let's say... the Bahamas? Just to get a bit tanned and remember what the sun actually looks like."

He shakes his head. "Can't. Batman doesn't go on vacation."

You raise an eyebrow, sighing in defeat. "Well, I'm sure the GCPD could handle Gotham for a few days, but do as you like."

Your arrival in Metropolis is, of course, followed by an unhinged swarm of journalists and press that surround you as soon as you land.

You can already see the headlines — THE PRINCESS OF GOTHAM NOW IN METROPOLIS or some other corny predictable shit like that — as they shove their cameras in your face, screaming and trying to grab you, as your bodyguards try to contain them. You're much calmer than they are, having already endured years and years of invasive journalists.

“Miss Wayne, would you care to tell us the reason for this abrupt change in scenery?”

“Has your move got anything to do with your relationship with your brother?”

“Miss Wayne, look here! A smile for the front page–”

“Miss Wayne, why Metropolis, of all places?”

“Miss Wayne, a word for the Daily Planet?”

The guy for the Daily Planet catches your attention– he seems far too nice and isn’t elbowing anyone; he must be either new at the job or is too nice for it. He’s got a mop of curly, black hair atop his head, thick glasses perched on his nose, baby blue eyes behind them. His posture is a little crooked — he’s getting squeezed by reporters on both of his sides — but, even as disheveled as he is, you notice a thing. 

Ohh, he’s pretty. Like, jaw-dropping pretty, the kind of pretty that makes you want to bite his cheek and never let go for the rest of your life. 

You stop in your tracks, lifting your sunglasses to your head, bodyguards panicking at the swarm of journalists that suddenly all point to one direction; you reach for the pocket of your jeans and take out a business card that you pat on the pretty reporter’s chest. “Another time, pretty boy,” you promise as he takes the card, his fingers brushing yours, the other journalists speechless around you. “I’m kinda busy right now.” 

You don’t stay long enough to see him blush and hold the business card tight in his palm so that the other reporters don’t snatch it out of his grip — the bodyguards urge you forward, towards the SUV with obscured windows that is waiting for you right in front of the arrivals’ exit of the airport. One of them opens the door for you, and you don’t hesitate to get inside, the car speeding off as soon as everyone’s inside. 

“Never seen anything like this,” one of the men mutters.

You shrug, “I’ve had worse.” 

The ride to your building is short, mostly because it’s late in the evening and there aren’t many people still around. You leave a generous tip to both the bodyguards and the driver, thanking them but assuring them that you can walk alone the thirty steps that separate you from the entrance to what’ll be your home for the foreseeable future. They help you take out your trolley and duffle bag, which you swing over your shoulder right after taking the keys of the building out. 

You open the front door, carefully closing it behind you, taking the elevator right in front of it. You press the number thirty out of thirty-four, which turns green with a ding, and wait for the doors to open back up. And once they do, you’re not disappointed. 

The loft is arranged just like how you asked the movers to — it would’ve been hard not to, as you sent them the 3D interior design plan you had made, but still. You’ve been raised with the idea that if you want something done well, you have to do it yourself, so you’re pretty happy about how it turned out. 

Still, something’s missing. 

You check around the loft for any pieces of missing furniture or something like that, not finding anything. You even go back to the 3D model to make sure that everything got here safe and sound, only to find that yes, everything is in the colour you ordered and exactly in the place you asked for it to be. 

You sit on the U-shaped couch that sits right in front of the giant windows that let on the skyline of Metropolis, eyebrows knit in deep thought. The house is nice — for fuck’s sake, you bought a whole building just for you and your projects — but it’s weird not having anyone else around. There’s no Alfred to welcome you, no half-asleep Bruce roaming without an idea of where he is, no squeaking and creaking of the floor when you walk. 

You sigh. “Maybe I should get a cat.” 

[jessiesjaded]

my little cousin's saying I dont have a dad and I was like Yeah, I do. of course I do. but I guess to them I really dont because they dont remember him, he died when they were tiny.....

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[blackberry-sage-tea]

"The Dalish gifted an Eluvian to the Grey Wardens so we can get in Weisshaupt" is just so emblematic of my problems with the game, because you can tell--it feels to me--that the thought process was "We need to have an Eluvian in Weisshaupt, Eluvians are an Elven(TM) thing, the Dalish are the Elven(TM) faction, so let's just say they were the ones who gave one to the Grey Wardens".

The Dalish have been established over all three games as a people who have spent the last thousands of years desperately scrounging for whatever scraps of their culture they can find, a struggle that has cost them dearly as typified by Merrill's plight trying to restore a single Eluvian which had previously Blighted two of her clan mates (an Eluvian that she can't open or use, and doesn't actually know what it's for by the end of her quest line). Multiple Dalish in Inquisition are killed trying to regain their history ("The Knight's Tomb") or trying to prove themselves by regaining even a talisman related to their culture ("Someone to Lose"). They are an insular and guarded people because outsider interactions frequently invoke a heavy toll in Dalish lives, up to and including entire clans. And yet, we are supposed to believe in a single throwaway piece of dialogue that in the 10 years between Inquisition and Veilguard, the Dalish have (offscreen) gained enough access to Eluvians as a piece of technology that they can afford to just "gift" one to the Grey Wardens without explanation.

There are constant revelations of this kind where pre-established parts of the lore are just thrown out the window. Things that had great emotional weight or impact in previous installments of the series are used for cheap thrills or plot-hole fills without explanation, justification, or even gravitas from the game. You have a moment in one of Emmrich's quests where you stumble through a portal directly into the Fade that Hezenkoss opened in Blackthorne manor, and you're tasked with closing it again. All of this is done entirely without the Anchor or even an implied blood sacrificial ritual, and it is never commented as anything particularly groundbreaking (when going into the Fade physically through tearing a hole in it was a Big Fucking Deal in Inquisition). You encounter a Compassion spirit in a side quest investigating the deaths of citizens in Tevinter who were murdered by a demon of Despair, and it is strong enough to not only retain itself through sensing the (unanswered!) suffering that these people experienced, but it also resolves to protect others to keep them from the same fate (when Cole was so traumatized by a single person's death that he completely reshaped his entire being around them). So on and so forth. Don't even get me started on Bellara's comment that the ancient elves "made most of their buildings in the Fade".

I'm not asking for someone to hold my hand and spoonfeed me information. I frankly don't care if an obscure codex entry, a reddit AMA question, bluesky tweet, or headcanon exists somewhere to patch in or bandaid over all of the jarring details like this, because it doesn't change the fact that the game itself should be doing this. The game itself should be taking the time to explain this in a way that is not missable, the game itself should be taking these things seriously, it should recognize when it is doing contradictory things and rush to justify itself accordingly, because these are things the emotional beats of previous stories hinged on. Like, when the game has Taash say a line like "The Qun isn't a prison, you can leave if you want", it's the responsibility of the writers to show that this is Taash being misinformed, not because I'm too stupid to headcanon that this is the case, but because this line is a symptom of how the entire game's writing seems to have forgotten about the Ben-Hassrath as a thing that exists in this setting.

Previous Dragon Age games are no stranger to "We quietly removed Solas' network of agents and spies offscreen"-style writing, but it usually didn't feel like a constant deluge periodically uprooting my emotional investment and immersion. There's only so much I can take in good faith before I realize that this game was just not written with any care towards ensuring that the worldbuilding made sense and felt right to the player, leading to awkward backpedaling in reddit threads like "no the Crows haven't changed as an organization, these are just the unique Good Crows and we forgot to mention it".

I just can't look past this shit anymore.

[fairuzfan]

The thing that's never made sense to me is the "Holocaust inversion" talking point and the idea that we are "moralizing" the Holocaust as something you're supposed to learn from which like aside from the fact that israel's entire pr is that it needs to exist because of the Holocaust, I really don't understand how feeling empathy based on past experiences is like... a moralizing action?

Even those who don't feel empathy, they still like... have the universal idea that you shouldn't do bad things onto other people. When you consider that yeah, when you live in the world, you experience terrible things and you relate those terrible things to other terrible things happening in the world. That's just what everyone does. Whenever I hear things happening to indigenous Turtle Islanders I always relate it back to Palestine. When I hear about violence happening to Black people, I think "Ah it must be terrifying" and I think back to my own family members and friends who were killed by Israel. When i think of antiBlackness in arab spaces, i relate it back to the occupation and compare myself to the occupation on whether or not im inflicting the same pain i and my family endure onto others. It's just how you experience the world. No one is asking you to "learn" from the Holocaust, people are just asking you to apply empathy.

A universal example is that you don't really understand the grief of losing a loved one until you yourself lose a loved one. And when you encounter a person who lost a loved one as well, you relate to them in a unique way that you wouldn't have without having that experience of grief before. It's not a moralizing experience, it's just... an experience. An awful one but you don't *learn* anything from it.

So it always confounds me that there's such vehement pushback against the idea that what Palestinians are going through is similar to the Holocaust because it's not like we're making light of the Holocaust? It's that we are asking you, a zionist (in this case one who is Jewish specifically), to acknowledge that there are similarities between the way Palestinians are treated and the ways Jews, Roma, and multiple other people were treated during the Holocaust. It's that we're relegated to second class status, we are considered lesser, we are confined to ghettos, we have our livelihoods stolen from us, we have weapons tested on us, we're survielled like we are dangerous monsters and we experience systematic segregation. And now we are experiencing mass slaughter campaigns within our concentration camps. But what's the issue? Are you offended that Palestinians can even remotely understand the terrible violence that Jews experienced in the Holocaust? Or are you denying that Palestinians are experiencing those things??

People always bring up like "Oh you don't understand what exactly happened during the Holocaust, you're just using it as a stand in for "a very bad thing"" and that's like... never made sense either because what does that mean? I'm not... using the Holocaust out of nowhere, I'm using it because Israel tells US, PALESTINIANS, that we need to be kicked out and raped and tortured *because* of the Holocaust. When us, Palestinians, ask you to feel empathy for us based on what you experienced during the Holocaust, we aren't just pulling it out of thin air, we are using a zionist talking point and pointing out the flaws. "Does experiencing a Holocaust allow you to conduct massacres and unbelievable violence onto other people?" and "Why are we paying for the terrible crimes of Europeans? Why is this our fault that we must suffer for it, as you, a zionist, insist we must?"

It's just so confusing how people would take offense at feeling empathy for Palestinians. We aren't denying the awful, awful genocide of the Holocaust, nor are we "making light of it..." but if you believe that comparing what Palestinians go through is making light of the Holocaust, then you must think that what we are going through is not bad at all.

[yes-these-obsessions-are-healthy]

With his romance with Lavellan, Solas learned a horrific truth—that him simply as a humble man was enough to be lovable. He had been plied out of the Fade by Mythal because of her need for him, and out of devotion, he became something more and dreadful for himself, for her. And she never reciprocated that devotion with the same intensity. He spent millennia fighting for her as a thing he detested—a man of war and death, a being whose mortal body imbued him with innate qualities and emotions that would further twist his Wisdom nature. He was producing the very poisons that would normally corrupt a spirit by virtue of [Being a Person]. The external influences now harbored inside him.

But Lavellan showed him. That being you are, the one that wished to ponder and reminisce of spirits, who valued liberty and freedom and knowledge and the wry observation? That was enough. That was always enough. But he can’t accept it, because millennia of being Fen Harel, being devoted to Mythal and her cause.. to sunder it from himself would feel like a magnificent loss. He has been that for so long, is there anything yet truly left of the Wisdom spirit that once was?

Not only that, but given corporeality, Solas is compelled by the operant [If I can, I must]. He CAN do something about the Veil, so he will. If he doesn’t, then he is forsaking the memory of he destroyed with his choice. He is forsaking his own principles. To do nothing in the face of injustice and cruelty is a sin he cannot bear.

He comes to the Inquisition as a “humble apostate”, both as disguise and because in his de-powered state he is of little greater use (if he had greater power I’m certain he would have nudged the Inquisition toward their goals). This is a costume he is wearing, or so he tells himself. He exists to advise, to suggest, to subtly direct toward more peaceful and humanitarian and spirit-friendly directives. He operates as his former [Wisdom] spirit state.

And Lavellan grows to love it, to appreciate it. She grows to appreciate [Solas as Wisdom]. That part of him, the part of him that he has put aside for thousands upon thousands of years, though his nature craves to return to it. Without his ability to be Fen’Harel, it is pretty much all he has. And oh, this mayfly mortal born of a “forsaken ignorant people”, she is drawn to him, seeing him as a [man], seeing him at his (comparatively) weakest, most ineffectual state and finding it pleasing. Desirable. [Enough].

Enough. He is enough as Solas, simply Solas. But if it is enough for Lavellan, why was it not enough for Mythal? No, no, there was a reason. There was a war. War requires more of people. It requires limits to be broken and terrible mantles to be donned.

But Lavellan is fighting an existential war against Corypheus. And she does not demand more of him. She values what little he is able to provide—guidance, insight, his magic. It is [Enough].

We Solavellans have dissected and discussed at length about the nature of the relationship being one built on deceit, the moral and ethical quandary of love cultivated under a false identity. Veilguard has confirmed the existential struggle and quiet agony that Solas experienced by transitioning into [Being]. While Lavellan should of course had been informed of his ‘true identity’ before falling in love with him, an argument could still be made that Fen’Harel is not his true identity but a long-worn mask that he wishes he could ditch. The man Lavellan fell in love with is who he should be, who he wants to be. Far more underpowered than he’s comfortable with, sure, but the personality for certain. Just a person giving advice, discussing at length about topics he enioys, exploring memories and ruminating over them, smirking over small verbal sleights of hand and sly tricks, engaging in philosophical debates. All of that is already there, that is who he is in peacetime. The man has known war and conflict for so long that he has mentally split Solas and Fen’Harel as two people, because he needed to, but they are the same. Solas who wields the martial prowess of Fen’Harel. Fen’Harel who possesses the wry levity and artistic sentimentality of Solas. SOLAS YOU ARE BOTH AND MORE THAN THESE TWO HALVES.

[the-tarot-witch22]

Love letter from your future spouse 💌 - Pick a pile

Note : *Some intense se*ual messages for you guys too, soo minors DNI*

Pile 1/Pile 2

Pile 3/ Pile 4

Hello everyone ! This is my another pick a pile or pac reading so please be kind and leave comment or reblog, and let me know if it resonated with you!

Note : This is a general reading or collective reading. It may or may not resonate with you. Please take what resonates and leave what doesn't. And it's totally okay if our energies aren't aligned!

How to pick : Take a deep breath and choose a pile which you feel most connected to!

Note : This reading is based on my intuition and channeled messages from tarot cards.

I worked really hard on this pile please show some love by leaving comments, likes and reblogs!

*Buy me a kofi*

Pile 1

(The cards I got ace of pentacles, ace of cups, 2 of cups, page of cups, and the fool)

Hello my dearest,

What can I say? I didn't even meet you and yet I still miss you. Am I going mad, my love? I am working towards my goal and I have almost everything i need at the moment but why do I still feel that longing and sadness, am I insane for this? my life has been okay, I work or study and do what needs to be done, but is it weird to say i am searching for you? I hope you feel the same way… sometimes i dream of you or have that romantic dreams where you are there and when i wake up… nothing? It's making me lose my mind, i can't really talk about it with everyone, they will or might think i am just desperate for some shit, but i am not i want something serious, i want you. I have fun too i sometimes go out with my friends we laugh together, but still when I look at them or when they talk about their lovers or text them in front of me, i just miss you.. Am i being too much? probably but i wanted to tell of this to you, I feel like i need some rest or space from everything or just go somewhere where i can be alone with my and your thoughts, but the responsibilities are holding me back , I wish you were here to hold me and tell me everything will be okay. Sometimes I feel like we make some telepathic or some sort of connection and i feel that intense vibrations in my body, I haven't even met you and here I am being vulnerable, But i know you will love this side of me, will you not? I also want to tell you you're doing great and you will achieve everything you have dreamt of please take proper care of yourself, I wanna meet you soon, and have the love , fun i never experienced or had, You know love, what's funny thing is? I never had something serious or people had just taken advantage of me, but you without even meeting you, i can tell you are what i need. Please be patient for me, universe is in work and they will help us meet at divine timing and I can't wait for it. Until then, my love.

Phew so intense they had a lot to say to you, and they seem so sweet, don't they? i wish you meet them soon.

Pile 2:

(the cards I got 3 of cups, the star, 5 of cups and king of cups)

hey ;)

Hello my star, what are you up to nowadays? Are you having fun without me? wait don't answer me that i might get jealous over it, what's wrong with me I am not scaring you away am I? I tend to speak my mind, and show what I feel, because that's how I am. But sincerely tho, i hope you are having fun and celebration and you are enjoying your life, you know this is what we should do? Like just enjoy our times, I know how hectic life can get and we all deserve the break, so do it for you don't let anyone tell you that you are not doing enough because my star , you are and i already swooning over here from the thoughts of you, would you like to hear about my life too? I will tell you what I am doing nowadays, I had lost something precious to me, I know not a way great way to start a conversation right? But i wanna tell you, I lost something, i hate that I did, but to be honest? If it leads me to you , then i am willing to sacrifice anything for it, i wish we could meet sooner, but i know this distance this gap between us only increase our love towards each other, because distance makes heart grows fonder right? Now I wont deny when I lost that thing I was sad and even cried, But now I am healing and your thoughts are helping me? Do you miss me too at the same time? and wonder what we could have been doing if we were together? Because I do. Always. It's not even funny at this point. Gosh your thoughts make me feel all romantic thoughts, you are such a tease by the way hiding away and making desperate for you, don't you worry my star , I will take my revenge when I meet you, sweet revenge, I will tease you so much that you will regret meeting me late, Don't worry I am just kidding, i tend to get intense sometimes, but your thoughts are responsible they make me like this. But right now I am working towards something I am saving money for us our future and maybe kids too? Well, its a conversation for later… But if you don't want kids we can always have pets, right? I want to give you the world, and care for you so much for you. Now, I have to go… Duty calls, but remember I miss you, and I love you even if we haven't met yet.

Pile 2 your fs sounds like a total flirt and a good person, and I love it for you! You guys deserve it <3

Pile 3:

the cards I got (knight of wands, 9 of wands, 3 of wands, 8 of wands)

Hello sexy wanderer,

Do you know what kind of thoughts, I have for you? You my sexy wildcat, you are a pure goddess and you are so beautiful, and what can I say i have such dreams for you, I just wanna tear off your clothes, i will just leave it at that, You feel like a dream come true. Wherever I go I imagine having intense intimate moments with you, and I don't even know why, such a hold you have on me, and guess what we haven't even met yet. I have to say so much to you but i will hold out for now, I don't wanna scare you away, but its totally opposite I don't wanna scare you away but i also want to impress you, I wanna have enjoy small moments with you. I would like to make out and show everyone who you actually love. Not them who stares at your beauty or just wanna have fun with you but me, you chose me, i will show that I am a proud men, and worthy of you, right now I am travelling to far away lands I like doing that you know, but i am gonna coming to meet you soon. And you believe me when i say i will sweep you off your feet and give everything you are worthy of. See you soon.

Wow, they seem too passionate, and you know what? Good for you guys! Their message was short but their energy? give me a fan right now because I need it! They are definitely fire sign and love travelling, and their sexual drive? HIGH. They gave me so much hot kind of energy, I love it for you guys, i totally see you both meeting soon!

Pile 4 :

(the cards I got 4 of pentacles, the magician, ace of wands, strength, The Hermit, 6 of cups, 3 of pentacles)

Sweetheart? Once, we meet I am not letting you go ever, But i will make sure you know that I deserve you, I might make mistakes here and there, but that's just me being foolish or silly, but I never intend to fight with you or hurt you, You know I am a bit overprotective, but if you don't like that I am willing to change my ways for you, Right now there is so much work pressure on me, i feel overwhelmed so I decided to talk with you, even though we are not in each other's lives right now, I feel I can talk to you about anything you make me feel safe like i can be myself, i never had that, it was always me making efforts, but with you i can feel we are each other's light, and I wish we cross each other's path soon, right now i am enjoying my alone time, I am not dating around, I am waiting for you sweetheart, and I have a feeling we will know we are the ones for each other. I feel we have known each other in past lives or we might have each cross each other's path, but that time timing might not be right, And we both needed to learn some lessons before we meet again, and honestly? I'd like that. I wanna be the best men for you. I love you, and for you I am willing to fight anything or anyone, Some people think i am workaholic, but they don't know what I feel, or who i feel for the person i feel for is you, you make me wanna be a better man, i wish there wasn't this much wait for us to meet, I have so much to tell you, Sometimes I end up fighting with my close ones, I regret it, I am a very calm person but when someone provokes me? I can't take it. I am working on that too. And that's why we are having our self journey's together and let's meet at our best, sweetheart. Till then remember I am here waiting for you and trying to be a best person who deserves you. I love you my sweetheart.

Okayyyy, very masculine and hardworking energy, they or you might be spiritual too, you meeting will be for the best, for some of you i feel friends to lovers trope going to be here, your man sounds so sweet yet tired. But he is doing his best, you guys got a gem.

Thank you for stopping by! Take care and remember you are loved <3

[sister-lucifer]

hcs 4 toby giving bj 4 first time :3

Toby’s First Time Giving/Receiving a Blowjob Headcanons 

Ticci Toby x Gender Neutral Reader 

A/N: I know you probably meant Toby giving a blowjob for the first time but I wrote both because i can. enjoy the double feature

Genre: Smut headcanons 

Content/Warnings: Oral sex (obviously), Toby likes praise, face fucking, Toby gets a bit rough in his excitement but he doesn’t mean it, he’s just a feral, excitable horndog, scenarios for both AFAB and AMAB readers are included, use of dick, cock and cunt to describe genitalia

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

Giving 

Oooohhh boy okay, listen 

He’s not exactly experienced 

Most of the people he went to high school with were incredibly put off by him and the like two who weren’t never went past making out 

He has no idea what he’s doing, you’ll have to teach him 

The good news? He’s very eager to learn 

If you have a dick he’ll try to deepthroat it IMMEDIATELY, regardless of the fact that he’ll choke like a fucking idiot, and you’ll have to practically yank him off of you 

If you have a cunt he’ll do the same thing except latching on way too fast and way too rough in a clumsy but genuine effort to pleasure you

Just hold tightly to his hair to keep him from ducking back down and gently instruct him to start slow 

You’ll have to be very detailed with your instructions, and he has no shame, so expect a lot of really specific questions 

��Should I-I keep flicking your clit with my tongue like th-that?” 

“Do you like w-when I circle your tip l-like that?” 

Etc, etc

And he’ll say it with 100% sincerity, because he really does want you to enjoy this

It takes him a minute to get the hang of it, but once he gets his rhythm he won’t stop until you’re begging him to 

It’s fun for him to watch you squirm and moan, it brings him just as much pleasure as it does you 

You can encourage him to keep going by scratching his head, running your fingers through his hair, and giving a little tug when he does something you particularly enjoy

Speaking of which, he responds very well to verbal feedback (re: praise) 

You can see his eyes light up when you call him a good boy or tell him he’s doing well 

And he’s willing to do whatever it takes to get him praise

Basically, he’s easy to train

Just keep telling him how well he’s doing, and be clear about what you enjoy 

He’s more than happy to comply 

Plus, it’s kinda hot to watch the drool and cum leak from the gash in his cheek as he eagerly laps up everything he can get from you

Receiving 

Well your first challenge will be getting him to sit still

He’s a hyperactive bastard and his excitement will manifest as restlessness 

It’s best to have him lying on his back to reduce the risk of possible injury, but he will still shake his legs and fidget with his sleeves as he watches you position yourself between his legs

He’ll try not to touch you at first because he’s not really sure what’s acceptable or not, instead opting to fumble with his fingers and gnaw on his knuckles 

He’ll be breathing heavily and mumbling to himself the whole time, before you’ve even gotten his cock out 

“I-I can’t believe you’re doing this for-for me…Y-You’re so nice to m-me…I-I don’t—fuck!—I don’t k-know what I’d do with-without you…”

And he’ll go on and on like that until you’ve sucked him so good he can’t talk 

He’ll forget his manners the closer he gets to cumming

He’ll get more and more needy and he’ll start to grab at your hair 

Unless you stop him, he’ll get rougher and rougher until he’s practically fucking your mouth, pulling and pushing your head back and forth by your hair and thrusting into your mouth 

He’ll have drool running down his chin and he won’t be able to keep his mouth shut, just completely desperate and messy

The best part is the way he’ll shamelessly beg to cum down your throat 

“Pleeeaaase, please, please, fuck—! I-It’s all I want, just let me—let me cum in your m-mouth, I need it! I-I’ve been a g-good boy, haven’t I?!”

If you don’t say yes he’ll literally cry 

But if you do, the absolute euphoria that’ll cross his face is more than worth it 

He’ll force you down on his cock as he releases down your throat, his back arching in an almost violent manner as he forces you to take everything he has to give

And he won’t let go until he’s completely done 

When you’re finally released from his death grip it’ll be because he’s gone limp, completely spent and barely conscious 

Give him a quick kiss before you go to clean up, he’ll lick your lips clean for you 

He’ll be riding that high for hours 

[twilightakiishi]

—NIGHT LIGHT ⋆.˚ ☾

hanma is a childish grumpy baby when he’s been woken up. 0.5k wc ﾉ fluff ﾉ a little suggestive.

cw: no pronouns used, hanma calls reader doll and baby, brief mentions of a previous blowjob & free use.

“doll…” his low grumble comes from beside you as he shakes your shoulder a bit.

you barely glance in his direction as you scroll on your phone. “yes, shuji?” 

“turn the damn light off.”

“huh? there aren’t any lights on.”

he lays there with his eyes still shut a few seconds before he cracks one open and points out the window with a childish grunt. 

you stifle a laugh, “…that’s a street lamp.”

“…huh? for what? why is it on?” he’s clearly half asleep, and a little incoherent. you know you’re safe to giggle as much as you want when he’s like this. 

“so people can see.”

he pouts, throwing an arm over his eyes, “ugh, it’s like, 3am, nobody needs to see anything right now.”

“actually shu, it’s only midnight. and, if i hadn’t sucked you comatose, I’m sure you would be one of the hooligans out and about at this hour.” 

“….close the curtain, doll.”

“no. it’s like a night light, and–

he scoffs, “what do ya need a night light for? dontcha trust me to protect you?”

he wants to bite back and tell you that he doesn’t need a night light, not because he isn’t a little afraid of the dark, but because he feels so safe next to you.

“–and it helps me wake up in the morning when the sun comes through,” you deadpan.

another thing he won’t tell you is how he doesn’t need the sun that streams in through the window every morning; the sight of your sleeping figure beside him is enough. 

but it’s midnight, apparently, and he’s not feeling the type of tired where he can be vulnerable tonight, so he keeps that to himself, even though he desperately wants to know if you feel the same way.

“excuses, excuses,” he tsks. he turns his head toward you and lifts his arm from his eyes, barely cracking them open, “if you hate me just say that.”

“shuji, my dearest. i had your cock down my throat 20 minutes ago.”

he full on glares at you, or at least he attempts to; his sleepy, half lidded eyes betray him. you don’t miss the way the corner of his lips twitched up for a moment, though.

in the dim lighting of your bedroom, he paws around in search of your arm, and grabs you tightly when he finds it, causing you to gasp and drop your phone. with a confused yelp, you’re suddenly manhandled on top of him as he buries his head in your neck, muttering a muffled, “relax, baby.”

you sigh, “shuji, you’re insatiable.”

you feel a deep chuckle resonate against your throat, “c’mon, you told me you like being used, yeah? so be my sleep mask for a lil while...” you roll your eyes at him for using your words against you, and at the way his voice trails off as if he’s already falling back asleep. you can’t help but giggle at your needy god of death who whines when you aren’t touching him for even five minutes.

your personal guard dog, the grim reaper of kabukicho— his world would fall apart without you. 

he’s never told you that, but you feel it through his actions; through the longing in his touch. 

in the morning before he leaves for work, he gives you a tighter hug than usual, and the sweetest, softest kiss. in bed when he grabs at your hands, no matter what position he’s tangled the two of you in, he gently brushes his palm against yours before he squeezes. and now, as his breaths even out and you slowly attempt to shift yourself off him, his arms tighten around your waist with an annoyed huff. 

he feels protected by…well, whatever it is about you; he doesn’t know. it’s less like the way he looms over any poor soul that dares to glance at you a second too long, and more like your soul is the solace that his needed all this time. your presence grounds him in a way he hasn’t experienced before; it warms up his heart and makes him soft. it’s the reason he can’t bear to let go of you in the night, and clings to you as long as he can before he goes out into a life that doesn’t treat him with nearly as much warmth.

despite the headache that he is sometimes, he makes you smile. so you settle in on top of him, because he’s given you no other option than to be his anchor in a world where he can only see the light in your presence. 

[cripplecharacters]

Does Your Scarred Character Have to Hate Themself?

[large text: Does Your Scarred Character Have to Hate Themself?]

(TLDR: no. literally no.)

A frequent topic that shows up around facial differences is the self-hatred, self-disgust, self-insert-negative-emotion that we must surely experience. I want to ask* writers without FDs - why? Why do you feel about us in such a way that that's the most common way of depicting us?

*- rhetorical question. I promise I know the answers, but I'm not sure if writers do.

It's frankly worrying to me. Is it really that common to assume that disabled people have this internal, never-ending hatred for themselves? The overwhelming majority of us don't. We hate inaccessibility, when people stare, or some symptoms when they get in the way, or how expensive being disabled is, but I find the concept of us being so completely disturbed by our own disabilities extremely strange. It’s “tragedy porn” intersecting “most basic ableism”.

“But trauma!”

[large text: “But trauma!”]

Trauma of what! People with facial differences don't have some sort of default trauma that we come with like it’s a factory setting. We are a group of people with tens of thousands of stories and experiences!

“Trauma of experiencing ableism/disfiguremisia” - that's better, at least this means something. If you're writing a story about this, please get a sensitivity reader with a facial difference. You can assume how we feel all you want, but in my experience these assumptions are often bizarre and unrealistic. Or just end up writing the same “disability so sad” sob story that everyone has seen a billion times. If you want to write about disfiguremisia, you need to understand the nuance and have more than just the basic level knowledge (which 99% of people don’t have either). If you can’t do that, don’t write about it. Simple as that.

“Trauma of the accident” - thankfully, the accident is an event and a facial difference is a disability. If you want to connect these two like they're one and the same, you're almost surely going to demonize disability. People with traumatic spinal cord injuries, acquired amputees, people with TBI, people with acquired facial differences - we participate in our communities, we have hobbies, we date, we play with our dogs. Disability isn't a death sentence. Media who make it feel like it is certainly don't help people who do suddenly become disabled, don't you think?

Here's a post by @blindbeta about blind characters becoming blind through trauma that’s better made than anything I could hope to write here. I heavily recommend giving it a read.

And, I can't stress this enough - most of us didn't have “the accident”, most of us are born like this! "Traumatic scars" isn't the only facial difference that exists, far from it, it's only one of thousands. It's 99% of our representation and "representation". If you want to make a character with FD - please consider that we aren't a monolith. Just like not all physical disabilities are "wheelchair user with paralysis", not all facial differences are "traumatic scar with somehow no nerve damage".

The overrepresentation of it is incredibly telling, and sometimes - or very frequently - feels like the writer doesn’t actually even want to deal with us. They want to use our disability as a way to cheap drama, moral metaphors, tragic backstories. Not to represent us as living people who are much more similar to you than you apparently think.

Now, I do have enough awareness to know that that's a big part of the appeal. “Horrific Thing #2456 happens” and boom, instant drama! Of course, it's a reasonable response that they would hide their disability for years, avoid talking about it in any way, and magically change their personality to be mean and reclusive, or at least be constantly soooo sad about how much it sucks to be disabled, right?

Do I really need to say that having your character becoming disabled be the worst thing ever is ableism 101? We have been talking about this for so long at this point. Writing about the process of adapting to a specific disability is better left to people who have actual experience in it.

To give an example that will hopefully resonate more with Tumblr users, I will use the fact that I'm also gay. It's not perfect by any means but probably much more familiar territory.

Imagine, let's say, a character. He's gay. The story he's in is supposedly progressive, certainly not trying to be homophobic. The character has experienced an incident, maybe an act of aggression or a hate crime, that happened because he’s gay, which was traumatic. Happens IRL, sure. So of course the character starts hating being gay. He talks about how gross and disgusting it is, he never lets anyone know that he could be “one of them”, certainly not take a stance against homophobia. You can't mention him without mentioning the accident, they're seemingly fused together. No gay love, joy, even basic happiness, he would actually choose to be straight in a heartbeat if given the option to and complains that he can't. This is shown as a neutral, obvious thing that a gay man would do, no one comments on it. He stays like this the whole time, unless there’s a plot twist in the last 10 pages where the world is now magically perfect ("we fixed discrimination, yay!"). This is the only LGBT character in the story.

Keep in mind that there are people similar to this in real life, living with extreme internalized homophobia.

Is this, in your opinion, realistic and thoughtful representation? How does it feel when written by a cishet writer, versus a gay writer who is recalling his experiences? Do you think that it's reasonable for the majority of media representation to be like this, or very close to it? How would it affect younger gay people who might already be uncomfortable with being queer? Are gay men the target audience, or are they not even considered as a group of people who read books? Is this helping or damaging the general public's idea of how it is to be gay? Why or why not?

The Masterpiece

[large text: The Masterpiece]

From 13 to 19 of May, we are celebrating Face Equality week (what a coincidence!). It’s important to me in general - and I wish it was more important to abled people, but I digress - especially its theme for this year.

“My Face is a Masterpiece”

Great statement, it represents the community well, I do enjoy how bold it is. Very cool stuff, I love the work our advocates are doing!

But why do I bring this up?

Well, to very non-subtly show that we aren’t a self-hating group of people. We are a community, a community saying “our faces are beautiful, look!”, we are saying “treat us equally, and do it now!”. Our activism isn’t about self-disgust. It’s about fighting your-disgust. 

Why can’t writers keep up? Why are you still stuck decades behind?

Is this the only reason I bring it up?

The Call to Celebration

[large text: The Call to Celebration]

FEI, the org behind organizing it, asks a very simple question (emphasis mine):

“Why do we so often see stories about facial difference as a ‘tragedy’, when they should be about triumph?” “Calling all artists, allies, creatives, galleries.  You can rewrite the story to bring about #FaceEquality and celebrate the unique artistry found in every face. Your participation this #FaceEqualityWeek will help to tell the real story, that there is a masterpiece in every face.”

Here. We are calling for you to stop. Directly from the biggest international advocacy alliance group that's out there. If you create, this is for you.

The last argument to not have your character with a facial difference hate themselves? Because we don’t want this. We are tired and frustrated. For me personally, I’m also offended by this kind of assumption. We aren’t tragedies or cheap entertainment for abled people to pity or be horrified by. We are people, and if you can’t internalize that, you have no reason to write about us.

For once, celebrate us. Happy Face Equality Week!

mod Sasza

[ceesimz]

Her Perfect Delusion

She's carefully curated the perfect lie, and you're at the centre of it.

There’s one thing about life that you don’t quite understand; how fast you can go from loving someone to hating them.

Those two things are a phenomenon that have coexisted together since the start of humankind, though it’s a hard thing for most people to accept. They’re arguably the two strongest feelings, there’s no choice in experiencing them, they come when they’re least wanted. What are you supposed to do when they occur at the same time?

When you first read that text message, the one that kept you up at night and has done for two weeks, it was as if you were the rope in an endless game of tug-of-war, being pulled back and forth relentlessly by an angel and a devil, by the resentment and longing that fought it out in your mind, each pulling with an equally unbearable amount of force. It prevented you from deciphering your true feelings, only making the whole situation a hundred times worse. 

You hated her, with every fibre of your being, yet you couldn’t shake that godforsaken, overwhelming, self-sacrificial pit of love that refused to leave your heart. Your own organs, both your heart and your mind, were entranced by her, betraying your own common sense to despise her and forget her. 

We can’t tell the team yet. I will pick you up tomorrow morning and we will carry on as normal.

That was it. No other explanation, no clarification, no mercy. 

It came mere minutes after she walked out of your apartment when she had broken up with you. Apparently she had the guts to end your year-long relationship in a heartbeat, but was too much of a coward to give you any say in person about telling your friends. 

And you followed her instructions wordlessly.

How could you ignore her, forget her, hate her, love her, when even after she had broken up with you, she forced herself into your life with no care in the world? 

Part of you thought something was wrong with her, because for a while now, you hadn’t recognised her as the woman you loved. Her breaking up with you just solidified that – she was completely unrecognisable. The sympathetic, caring side of you which she once adored, it craved to wrap her up in your arms, lead her back to bed, and talk for hours as the sun set and subsequently rose until you figured out what was going on inside her mind. Before you got together, you spent far too long trying to unlock that side of her. Maybe you never truly saw it in the first place.

You refused to leave the club, even though staying would mean seeing her almost everyday. Alexia might be Barça, but it was your club too. Your family too. Whether you were overstaying your welcome or not, you weren’t about to let a failed attempt to build a life with someone else stop you from keeping a life for yourself. Barcelona was home. Alexia had been too, you weren’t about to lose two at once.

If you told people, you would be alone. It was Alexia’s club before you joined. Your friends were her friends before she introduced you. Barcelona was Alexia’s home before it was yours. There wasn’t a part of you that doubted she’d turn the whole of Catalunya on you if everybody knew the true state of your relationship.

So the morning after that text, you clambered into her car, a suffocating, thick silence seated in the car with you both, and that was that. Weeks passed before you without even realising it. The hate wore off and the love only got stronger.

Every morning for training, she picked you up, you walked in together, feigned smiles on your faces that physically hurt deep in your chest. With Alexia, you had given her thousands, if not millions, of genuine, joy-filled smiles. All you were left with was tear-filled eyes instead, drowning in the love lingering, blinking them away near enough every second you spent with her. 

It took far too much force to withhold the smile, though it soon became second nature. You got a routine down with her, and you were so focused on keeping up the act, you trained on auto-pilot. The scaffolding it required to pin the smile to your face was heavy, and it was like one strong gust of wind, one act of affection that brought back a whirl of memories, whether that be an arm around your shoulders or a kiss to your cheek, was all it would take to knock the bars out and let it all come crumbling down. Perhaps that would be for the best.

Just a shame you were in too deep to realise that.

“You guys want to come over for dinner tonight?” Irene asked from Alexia’s left. You were on the captain’s right, hands swinging between you. It was the image of happiness, of how soft your love had once been, though that was merely a figment of the past. A piece of your heart you’ll never get back, a piece Alexia held onto and flaunted in your face with how she held onto your hand, and you simply let her.

“We have plans already, no?” Alexia turned to you, a look in her eyes that had you agreeing easily. You didn’t have the strength to verbalise your willingness to fall at Alexia’s feet once more, so you settled for a nod.

“Ah, a shame. Another time.” Irene smiled, a genuine one that you envied. 

God, how pathetic. To envy someone over a smile.

“Por supuesto.” Alexia confirmed, waving at her friend as she made her way to her own car. 

Like always, you put your bag in the trunk of her car, and climbed into the passenger side. As you did everyday, with no complaints. Why didn’t you complain? Is that really how weak you are?

“What are you doing on Saturday?” Alexia asked you this time, her lips in a thin line as she reversed out of the parking space. Her voice was cold, stern, distant, completely devoid of the gentleness she once addressed you with. She almost didn’t sound like Alexia. 

“Um, nothing I think, I don’t h-”

“Good. You will come to dinner with me and my family.” 

It was a demand, not a question, not an invite. The shy, heart-warming excitement she spoke with when she asked you to join her family for dinner for the first time didn’t even feel like something that had once happened anymore. It was such a contrast from that treasured memory, you had to cover your mouth to stop the sob that wanted to suddenly escape.

However, that heartbreak of a reminder wasn't even the main thing on the forefront of your mind at that moment. Instead, all you could focus on was the fact she hadn’t told her family yet. This wasn't part of this fucked up ordeal.

There was no way, in good conscience, that you could look her mother in the eye and lie to her. 

“You haven’t told your family about us?” You said in an insecure voice, chancing it and looking over at her. There was no need; she wore the same expression she had adorned since the breakup, one of stoicism and carelessness. One that exuded control, one which relished in that fact.

“Do not start. Do not pick a fight right now.” Was all she replied, and if there were ever two statements to sum up the state of your relationship, it was those. 

Her hands clutched the steering wheel tighter, her nostrils flared in frustration with her lips pursed into a thin line, meanwhile you cowered into your seat like a scolded child. Throughout this whole situation, each day Alexia had slowly beaten down your confidence, a piece of your self-esteem cracking and falling away with every word that she spoke. You were losing yourself in the process, and having already lost the other half of your soul in your break-up, you didn’t know if you would survive any longer. 

There had been one fight so far, but Alexia refused to let it happen again. Any time you showed the slightest bit of disagreement, she’d say something that would silence you in an instant. You knew it was unfair, and toxic. You didn’t do anything about it though. Of course you didn't.

“I’ll pick you up at eight. It’s at my Mami’s house. You will not say a word about us, you understand?” She pressed sternly, glancing away from the road for a second to give you a piercing glare. It only provoked that pit of nausea that cruelly reminded you of your current position every time it made an appearance. 

“I understand.” You whispered in a voice that Alexia knew too well; there was a lump in your throat that you had to fight past to speak.

This time, when she turned to look at you, you swore you saw a hint of regret in her eyes. Before you could get your hopes up though, she was focused on the road in front of her again, brows furrowed and her usual frown on her face. 

You got a physical break from her the next day, but not a mental one. A two day respite had been given to the team, the Friday and the Saturday, and you loathed them. You cursed yourself for that, because why could you find issue with time off but not the vicious cycle you found yourself in? 

Every second of that Friday was spent in bed, submerged by a blanket that faintly smelled like her, in your bedroom that was still decorated as if someone loved you, with pictures all around and traces of small details which only existed as a result of being wholly adored, like you once had been. They were glimpses of the past, evidence of the affection you had a taste of, yet had been pulled away just as the disbelief began to wear off.

Even a year down the line, you were just waiting for the other shoe to drop. From the moment you met her, the moment she asked you out on a date with her voice trembling and her hands fidgeting, you were in a near constant state of disbelief. Never in your life did you picture yourself in such an idyllic relationship, with a woman not even your wildest dreams could have imagined. Maybe you were right to cling onto your insecurities, because in the end it did turn out to be too good to be true.

As a matter of fact, it had been your heart that was dropped, shattering into fragments too small to be fixed back together. Instead, you were shoved to the side and thrown to the floor like a child that lost interest in a toy. Even still, Alexia didn’t have the same emotional maturity that a child had to give you your space to grieve, choosing to parade you around on her arm like the pain she’d caused was the greatest achievement of her life. 

You didn’t move, get up, talk to anyone, nothing. Those tasks felt too big to approach, you felt too small, too undeserving. So you subjected yourself to thirty-six hours of nothing but overthinking. What else was there for you to do? You had nothing else going for you except your broken relationship, there wasn’t exactly a lot of options. 

Any memory that came to mind, you thought about it, hashed over every moment of it, looked at every viewpoint you could think of from Alexia’s perspective, until you rinsed it dry and tears soaked your pillow. All these times where her disdain towards you was glaringly obvious, yet you still didn’t have the strength to break apart the love you stored in your bones. You found yourself defending her, coming up with excuses for the way she acted, and no part of you stopped yourself. 

Eventually though, the tears dried out, just in time for you to start getting ready for dinner with her family. 

Her family, who were none the wiser to the despicable actions of their daughter, sister, niece, cousin. They thought the world of her, the star of the family, heart of the city, the best athlete of her sport that could do no wrong, personally and professionally.

Was it wrong to end a relationship out of convenience, yet still pretend to be in love to avoid the dull task of sharing the embarrassment that it hadn’t worked out as planned? They probably wouldn’t think so. They would take her side, paint you as the villain, and shower the Ballon d’Or winner with the support and care they believed you never gave her. You did, Alexia knew that, yet you couldn’t imagine a world where she’d stick up for you anymore.

That was just another example of how lonely you’d be if anyone found out what had happened. You decided, in the end, you had no choice but to continue this act. The realisation that the greatest loss in all this wasn’t the love you had to fake, but the person you became to keep the lie alive, was so soul-crushing. What hurt more was that there wasn���t a thing you could do to fight it.

You had to redo your makeup twice before Alexia texted saying she was waiting for you, not because you were crying, but because your hands trembled with adrenaline, the only saving grace for this dinner. You couldn’t get through it on your own, maybe this was the one time your anxiety would come in handy.

Her mother greeted you warmly, rambling about how long it had been since she last saw you, and how exhausted you looked. Alexia, of course, wasn’t far behind nor out of earshot – you could bet your house on the fact she wouldn’t leave your side for a second throughout this torture, desperate for another glimpse of the wounds she was leaving – with a flash of a warning in her eyes for you to keep your mouth shut, before the warmth came flooding back and she greeted her family with a smile she once gave to you.

Food was passed up and down the table in heirloom dishes, recipes that had been family tradition for longer than any of them could remember filling Eli’s home with a concoction of scents, all of which were heavenly and not an ounce overwhelming. Though, despite the sweetness in the air and the deliciousness on show, you couldn’t quite find your appetite. Alexia noticed and turned her head, her lips by your ear, murmuring about ‘growing up’ and ‘not coming across as rude’ and ‘not making a scene in front of her family’ before pulling away with a kiss to your cheek. Some of her family caught on, grinning and winking and teasing her for such a deliberate display of affection, and she brushed it off with some gently-uttered Catalan, which had them all cooing and smiling brightly at you.

Then, the questions came. Wine, sangria, beer, they’d all loosened the Putellas’ tongues. 

When are you popping the question, Ale?

How many children do you plan to have?

It’s about time you bought a house together, no?

How many carats in your ring, hija?

For reasons you didn’t care to delve into, it was them that snapped you out of the daze you were in. The numbness faded. The emotions came barrelling in. The hate outgrew the love, brewing and simmering, rising, until it bubbled over and erupted.

Though, you still had some decency, where the same couldn’t be said for Alexia.

The questions stopped when you slowly stood from your chair, your adrenaline urging you to move quicker but your sense overshadowing it, as you pulled your hand from Alexia’s grasp. It tightened for a moment, trying to keep you in place and under her control, where she was able to contort and twist your view of yourself, your view of the world and what you believed was acceptable for yourself. But for the first time, you slipped away before she could do anything to stop you. 

Silently, like you should have done weeks ago, you walked away from her and out the front door. As soon as you were out of sight, the door closing softly behind, you ran. 

You ran because you could, because now was finally time for you to relish in the strength that had been out of reach for longer than you could remember. You ran because your adrenaline was shouting for you to, needing an outlet for all that had built up and led to this moment. There were emotions coursing through you again, compared to the numbness that had consumed you, and you didn’t know what to do with the rush that came other than run. It was a madly cathartic feeling, unlike anything you’d ever experienced before.

Until you crashed. And everything crumbled down on top of you. 

You stopped running. You looked around. 

You were in a neighbourhood just outside of Barcelona that you didn’t recognise enough to be able to navigate how to get home. The reason for that? It was your girlfrie- no, your ex-girlfriend’s mother’s neighbourhood, Alexia’s hometown, where everyone there knew the Putellas-Segura family not just because of the height of the captain’s success but because of how close-knit the community was. They didn’t know you, but they surely would when word would spread like a wildfire about the events you had caused. Yet more people that would be against you.

Your phone was buzzing wildly in your pocket, and that numbness, the anxiety, the mental paralysis that struck whenever Alexia reached out to you tried desperately to take over. But you had made it this far, you weren’t about to ruin all your progress. So, you declined her call, and despite the fear that had your hands shaking and mind racing, you blocked her contact.

The calls stopped immediately, as did the messages. And where you stood then, there were no physical traces of her in your life. No toxicity bleeding through your phone and making a place for itself in your mind. It was the first time she couldn’t contact you, couldn’t force herself into your head, couldn’t control you.

Every decision you made then was entirely your choice.

You called a taxi. You waited on the side of a road, having to stumble through the pronunciation of the street you were on to the poor driver on the other side of the phone, and waited. Your eyes didn’t stop scanning the area around you, worried that Alexia would somehow be right behind you, desperate to verbally lay into you for the rest of the evening.

However, the cab arrived before that could happen, so you clambered into the back of it and slammed the door shut behind you with a little too much haste. The driver glanced back at you in the rearview mirror, and you smiled apologetically, before relaying the address of your apartment. 

It wasn't relief or gratitude that filled you during that car journey. That would be too good to be true. No, instead it was a deep, burdening feeling of... unknown. These weeks of unsettlement and unfamiliarity hadn’t prepared you for not being the puppet that Alexia controlled with the strings at her fingertips. Your heart beated wildly in your chest, thumping away with the rhythm of your thoughts which were far too convoluted for you to make a clear plan of action.

What were you going to do once you got home? Just... go to bed? Then wake up in the morning and head to training like nothing had happened? As if your life hadn't just burst at the seams, flipped upside down, imploded, for the second time in only a few weeks?

And as it had done for so long now, your mind began to betray you. One could class it as second nature at this point. Because, how could you do this to her? You did cause a scene in front of her family, and in the process, probably burnt every remaining bridge you had in Barcelona.

This wasn’t something to celebrate. That feeling of catharsis earlier? Merely a distant memory. All you felt was regret. A few friends had warned you in the first place about everything to do with your move to the Spanish city. Why move so far from home? Why uproot everything you ever knew? And many more along those lines.

Yet, the ones that stood out the most were all to do with her.

How could you fall in love with your captain? Wouldn't a breakup between you both ruin the team? She's the best footballer in the world, what are you doing with her? Out of everyone she could have, why you? She could have anyone in Barcelona, what is it about you that she could surely find in anyone else?

Maybe all their doubts were right. It really was doomed from the start.

And as you unlocked one door to your flat after arriving, you looked around at the space that once brought comfort, the only thing it gave now was... cold, but deserved loneliness.

All you could do was stare and reflect on how the dull, desolate, dark and dismal space only represented the punishment of your actions. You did this to yourself; there was nobody coming to save you, nor did anyone even want to.

Except one, but help was the furthest thing on her mind.

“Open this door right now!”

You could recognise that angry, demanding voice anywhere.

“Do you know what you have done!?”

Of course you knew. That's what killed you the most. There was no coming back from this, not when she was outside your door with more fury in her words than you had ever heard before.

“Will… will you just let me in? So we can talk?”

When she spoke then, there was an ounce of sympathy in her tone, which you grasped onto as if your life depended on it. She had you wrapped around her finger, and she knew it. You were pretty certain she revelled in it.

A second passed between her plea and you rushing to let her in. Perhaps even that was generous.

Her shoulder shoved into yours as she rushed in, immediately beginning to rant a tad aggressively in rushed Catalan. For a moment, you feared her, afraid of the capability she had with her words. One of the many things you had learnt about her in the weeks that had passed was that her need for control and her willingness to express that had no boundaries at all.

On the other hand, your earlier discovery that you did indeed have a backbone sparked something inside of you. If you didn't act upon it now, didn't take advantage of the rare situation where you had some faith in yourself, you'd never make it out with your self-worth in tact. You didn't want to build your future on a foundation of lies and deceit. You didn't want to trade in your potential for a lifetime with someone that did nothing but wear you down to the point that you didn't recognise the person in the mirror.

You knew who you could be if you just took your life into your own hands, you saw that earlier, and the figure that looked back at you when you did your hair in the morning and brushed your teeth at night was a brave woman that deserved more than what she had put up with these last weeks. You had a life before Alexia, one full of actual joy and unbridled excitement which had led you to this city in the first place – that same person deserved a life free from the restraints of a shameful, dishonourable relationship that hadn't been real for months, nevermind the weeks of theatrical, Oscar-winning performances that came from a place of hatred, not love. It was never love on Alexia's behalf, not for a single fleeting moment.

“No, Alexia, you do not get to come here and do this. I refuse to sit back and be the punching bag you use for your own fucked up ego!”

Her scathing rambling in her mother tongue came to a halt. The silence that followed was oppressive to Alexia, a feeling she'd inflicted upon you countless times yet never been on the receiving end of. For you, the silence was nothing but an opportunity to finally take back the reins of your life.

“YOU broke up with ME!” You shouted, and instantly felt a rush of adrenaline surge through, just like it had done earlier. “But you won't let me leave your life! You won't let me grieve our relationship! I wa-”

“I told you it was better if we c-”

“No, it is my turn to speak. You have spoken more than enough recently.” The glare you sent her way physically hurt her. She knew she deserved it but it made her sick. This had been a long time coming. “I have spent every second these past few weeks trying to be good enough for you and if anybody asked me why, I don't think I could come up with a truthful answer. Maybe it's because I hoped you would see just how much I loved you, that you would change your mind and say you regret breaking up with me. But now... I just have to thank you.”

Her face pinched together in confusion, and all she wished for in that moment was a chance to explain herself.

When she sent that text, however long ago it was, she never planned for it to end like this. She wasn't in her right mind as she typed it out and hit send. Tears burnt her eyes and dropped onto the seat of her car whilst the regret that tried to save her from drowning was out-strengthed by the shame that pulled her under. If she could take back the break-up, she would in a heartbeat. That was something she realised the moment she saw your first tear drop, when she heard the first poorly disguised sniffle from the person she still loved, whilst she wrecked the beautiful relationship you both had built, in less time than it took to say the alphabet.

That was no excuse, she knew that. It was just far too little, and far too late.

“Wh-what? Thank me?” She repeated. The defeated look on her face would have wrecked you once. On this occasion, you had to stifle a grin that would border on being a little too psychotic. Revenge was a dish best served cold.

“Yes. You showed me your true colours, Ale. I planned on spending the rest of my life with you, so thank you for showing me who you truly are before we were in too deep. You hurt me more than I could ever express these last weeks. You ruined me. But I know I am ten times the person you'll ever be, and I know that I can pick myself up and put myself back together. I don't want you around to see that, you don't deserve it.”

There it was, the statement Alexia had feared for weeks: you didn't want her around anymore.

Those words were the reason why she had barely let you out of her sight, why she always cut you off at the first sign of conflict. If she kept you under her watchful eye and within arms reach, she could pretend, even for just half a second, that the pair of you were still wrapped up in each other's love, like Alexia hadn't broken up with you. ‘Selfish’ hardly scratched the surface in reference to her actions and this one-sided deal. But if it all ended, the two of you would just be teammates again, which somehow hurt worse than being strangers. And should you ever leave the club, she wouldn't even have an excuse to talk to you everyday. Maybe that would be better than playing football together whilst having to pretend there wasn't a year's worth of history, of adoration, of pure and whole-hearted love between you.

You clasped your hands in front of you as you waited for her to process your words, just another grace you gave her that she never did you. Everytime in the past that she had said something that felt like a blow to the stomach, she swiftly moved on before you could compute what she said. She seemed speechless, which was a first.

“I… no, you have the wrong impression, mi amor, I didn't-”

“You don't get to call me that anymore. You lost that right the second you started pulling away before you even ended our relationship. But please, go ahead and try to dig yourself out of this mess.” Every time you spoke and returned the harshness she previously addressed you with, the pained expression to her face only intensified.

“The person you saw since we broke up, that's not me, I swear!" You couldn't help but scoff. “I mean that honestly. I... I don't recognise that person. You must know that, no?”

Her lips could lie, but her eyes couldn't hide her true thoughts. She was clutching at straws and coming up empty for reasons about her arrogant, toxic behaviour. Choosing to stay silent despite the pleading look on her face, you sighed exasperatedly.

“I am sorry, and I will make sure that you know that. I have regretted breaking up with you from the moment the words left my mouth. Even more when I asked you to do this deal. It's not right, or fair, and I don't know why I thought it was acceptable to ask you to do it. All I know is that I did it because I love you. And I couldn't bear to let you go.” She spoke slowly but with desperation clear on her face and in the way she moved. 

Whilst she was talking, her hands never stopped moving in front of her, though she ended her point with the palm of her left hand, the one that always held yours no matter what, landing on her heart. Under her soft skin there, with the lines there you were sure you had memorised, she felt the rapid beat of the organ that was slowly, at a tortuous pace, being torn in two. And it was entirely because of her own doing.

“That isn't how you love someone, Ale.” You said simply, ensuring she felt the full effect of those words.

The first tear of the confrontation fell at that precise moment. It didn't come from you.

“I know.” Alexia whispered, her voice cracking as the dam she’d worked so hard to build for the last however long finally burst. 

Even after all that had happened, all the pain she'd handcrafted for you and the irrevocable damage she'd caused, you would be lying if you said the sight of her crying didn't make you feel guilty. You weren't the type of person that made people cry. It took all the will-power you had to remind yourself that the blonde in front of you had dug her own grave and it was time for her lay in it.

“I’m not going to sit around and be the outlet for whatever identity or moral crisis you're going through. I deserve better.”

“And I know that, I promise that I do." She sobbed. “You do deserve better and I'm sorry I couldn't be that for you.”

“There you are.”

Your words shocked you just as much as they did Alexia, they came out before you had even registered them as a thought. Apparently the adrenaline was doing more work than you assumed. It wasn't ideal, but you weren't sure how you would cope without it. Acting like this was so out of the norm for you, if it wasn't for the addictive rush throughout your veins, you dread to think of what you would have done when the midfielder initially arrived. The most likely outcome was… you breaking down into tears, falling to your knees, and apologising in such a pathetic manner that Alexia had no choice but to take you back into her arms with an awkward, pitiful grimace on her face.

Thankfully, nothing remotely close had happened. If anything, it was the opposite. The tables had turned to an extreme degree. You had every bit of control in this scenario, and though you didn't doubt that Alexia could flip it around whenever she felt like it, it was your opportunity to recover your sanity and make the most of this one time where the cards were in your hands.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Alexia questioned.

“The woman I fell in love with, who has a heart and actual feelings." It was a comment that almost crossed an invisible line by your standards. Not like you could take it back though, so you had to settle for pursuing vengeance and continue by explaining yourself to the clueless woman before you. “Who thinks of the person she’s talking to as an equal rather than someone she towers over. Who reali-”

“I have never thought of you as below me, why would you say that?” She interrupted you in a panic, but you ignored her.

“Who realises that her actions actually do have consequences, and that people won’t stick around when she doesn’t show she appreciates their company. Where have you been all this time?” You laughed in spite of her, to which her eyes widened and she took a step closer. She tried to reach out for your hand, but you moved it out of her way.

“I have been right here, I haven’t gone anywhere!” Alexia argued. It was funny really, just how quick her entire façade had subsided and gave way for such a ridiculously victimised mindset.

“You and I both know that’s not true at all. For the last quarter of our relationship, you’ve been a completely different person. So distant and… unbothered. Unbothered about me, you didn’t show for a second that you cared for me and loved me. And instead of a seamless split where we both can grieve in whatever way works best for us individually, you drag me around on your arm, flaunting how detached you are!” You were shouting, you recognised that, but you didn’t care. The neighbours can have their fun and get a front row seat to it all. “I thought you, at the very least, had the common human decency to not be selfish and let me work through my feelings, where I was completely heartbroken may I add, with no distractions and no games. But no, you forced me into this excruciatingly difficult and painful experience that h-has wrecked me!”

Tears hit the wooden slats beneath the pair of you, both looking through blurry vision and barely being able to stomach the sight of the other in such states. Never, in the time you’ve known each other, did either of you think it would ever end like this. 

“I’m sorry.” It was all Alexia could think to say. And it wasn’t good enough, she never had been.

Pulling your sleeves over your hands, you turned away from her for a moment and dried your face from the endless stream of emotion that overwhelmed you. As you did so, you took a few quiet deep breaths in, an attempt to gain back some composure. 

“The last thing you will do for me is telling people the truth.” You began when you turned back to her. “You won’t leave out a single bit of detail. You will tell everybody we had in our life together what you did to me, what you made me do.”

“I already told my family. After you left.”

That caught you off guard. You didn’t expect her to have the guts. 

There was a brief period of time between you getting home and Alexia arriving that you don’t really remember. It was a blur, mostly, not that you were surprised considering the anxious cycle of spiralling you found yourself in. 

You found enough satisfaction from the way she murmured that admission that she felt a deep amount of shame, and possibly a hint of embarrassment, meaning her family had hopefully lay into her about her actions. Maybe they were on your side after all.

“There are still many people to tell. You’re not getting away with this, Ale. I will make sure you never do this to anyone else, ever.” 

For Alexia, who foolishly had a speckle of hope remaining, had all her dreams about the future shattered with that last sentence.

“I cannot get you back? Ever?” 

Even if it did frustrate you, you couldn’t just forget a year-long relationship in a flash.

“I don’t think so.” You told her, because you couldn’t give her a straight no.

She nodded on instinct, until she stopped, because a fresh wave of sobs consumed her, and she had to cover her mouth to muffle the sounds of them. She only allowed a couple to escape, before she forced down all that emotion and glanced back at you.

“I know I deserve that. It doesn’t make it hurt any less.” This time, you nodded, because you agreed with her. 

The Barcelona captain had hurt you immeasurably, yes, but after all, love always went in hand with hate. And despite the fact the latter was a much stronger feeling now than it had been since that day in your apartment with a stoic, indifferent blonde in front of you, you couldn’t ignore the feelings you still held for her. They had taken a backseat throughout this, though as the argument gradually came to a natural end, the events of the day depleting both your emotional staminas, those same feelings came creeping back. In all honesty, you didn’t think they would ever fully leave. That was an issue to tackle another day.

“I understand. But you have to learn how to deal with that because I don’t think it will ever change.” You told her, a little less sternness in your voice now that the fight was beginning to leave you.

“I will. I will do everything you have said, I promise.” Her last promise to you.

There wasn’t much else to say after that, apart from…

“I think… I think you should go now.”

So, with a single nod of her head, Alexia slowly made her way to the door and you trailed after her. You saw the tremor to her hand when she reached for the handle, and heard the shake of her breath when she breathed out. Then she opened the door, and with one last look back at you with glossy eyes that held far too many emotions within them to be unpacked right now, she stepped out into the corridor and closed it behind her.

The sole company you were left with was the silence that cloaked your apartment. It was deafening, and the only thing it did was heighten the emotions you were left with. 

All you could do, in that moment, was slump back against the wall by the entryway, slowly slide down it until you were seated on the floor, and cry out every last tear you had left inside you.

[gotta-winwin]

OT13 Reaction -- to you being bullied in the past/highschool

masterlist | cyana's masterlist

tw: this one holds a lot of mentions of verbal bullying and cyberbullying - it's something very close to home for me and this fic will be for anyone who has experienced the same thing. remember that you are strong and the harsh words don't define you! i love you and stay safe <33

he can feel his blood boiling the moment you comment on your past experiences with bullies. seungcheol prides himself to be a level-headed type of guy, but the thought of you getting hurt - even in the past - strikes a chord deep inside of him. he's thinking about buying a plane ticket to your hometown just to find those fuckers and bury them six feet under. however, he's mature enough to know that violence never solves anything, opting to show you even more love than before (if that's even possible) to remind you that you are worth everything in the world.

jeonghan's mind is already whirring overtime the moment he finds out about your past. using his scary, evil, mastermind brain for good this time, he can't help but envision decking the people who've hurt you. doesn't mind listening to you as you rant, knowing that you need a silent supporter by your side. will never tell you about how he sees red just thinking about your so-called "friends" who made you feel so horrible about yourself.

joshua can feel his heart crack with each name you tell him you've been called. takes the time to reassure you that you are none of those horrible things, that you're kind and beautiful and so so so smart. traces his finger across every scar and imperfection you've been bullied over, whispering how much he loves you. doesn't mind giving your bullies the nastiest side-eye the next time he sees them.

although he's doing his best to be present as you tell him about your past, jun is internally screaming at himself because you. are. crying. it's like he malfunctions every time it happens, hating how sad and scared you look. despite his panic, he's awfully calm when he comforts you, explaining to you that no, you are not weak because of this. in fact, you're much much stronger.

soonyoung's somehow found himself perched on top of a chair, his body steaming with anger, holding too much rage to sit still. you can tell he's struggling to hold back the foulest curse words, knowing that he should at least let you finish your rant. the moment you're done however, he's cursing them, their mother, their partner, anyone he can get his metaphorical hands on. it's okay baby. he'd tell you once he's calmed down. they're probably failing in life. but look at you! you're successful and beautiful and you're dating me!

wonwoo's asking you questions in a way that makes you fear for what he's about to do. what's their address? social media? social security number? you have to physically sit him down and remind him that the bullying happened years ago in highschool and that there was no point in trying to get revenge now. he's visibly deflated by the news, but decides to just dote on you even more to prove to you that their awful words were wrong. i'm no good with words, but i'll show you how fucking stupid they were to hurt you.

jihoon doesn't really know what to say when you tell him. he only thanks you for feeling brave enough to share such a painful part of you with him, feeling happy you trust him enough to do so. neither one of you revisits the topic: until one day, you see a suspicious amount of rageful revenge lyrics and comfort lyrics in seventeen's new releases. i guess we can credit the making of Hug to that instance.

minghao's glad he meditated last night because what you just told him would have definitely set him off without it. he doesn't hesitate to hold you, asking you if you need anything from him. i'm so proud of you for surviving all that, my love. they were obviously blind and didn't see your worth. and i'm sorry you thought they were your friends. he makes it clear that he's here for you, whenever you need to talk about it again.

seokmin more than upset when you're finished telling him everything- he's confused. he doesn't understand why anyone would want to hurt you, let alone say all those nasty things and pretend to be your friend. he apologizes for crying, trying to laugh it off by saying idk why i'm crying so hard, it didn't even happen to me but i'm the one sobbing like a baby. promises you that he's never leaving your side and you don't have to ever worry about him turning on you like your friends did in highschool.

all mingyu can think about as he listens is that he could have made it all better if he had just been there. he tells you while gently wiping away your tears that he would've traded places with you in an instant. i wish we'd met when we were younger, love. i would have fought them all back. but most of all, he wishes he was there to protect the younger you, knowing a child didn't deserve all that.

although you're doing a great job already, seungkwan can't help but join in on dissing your bullies and so-called "friends." he nods along enthusiastically every time you throw an insult, preferring always to laugh about it instead of cry. he's hyping you up, agreeing with everything you say as you recount your highschool days. yeah, no she sounds like a bitch. i bet he couldn't even read a chapter book. bro probably stank, you were safer without him. she's sounding like one of those insane kdrama rich ladies - and not the hot ones.

vernon's quietly listening, storing away every single piece of information for the next time you guys return to your hometown. he's already preparing his plethora of insults and backhanded digs, ready to show them a taste of their own medicine. he quietly tells you that he can relate - school had never been kind to him either - and he somehow spins all your shared trauma into something beautiful. we were meant to be, he says, cause you healed me, and now i can heal you. his words make you smile through the tears - and you fucking love him for that.

chan's at a loss for words once you're finished telling him everything. he's overwhelmed by the sheer amount of harsh words and sickening moments, knowing that if he felt this bad just hearing about it, he couldn't imagine how you felt going through it all. you're much braver than i would have been, is all he says after a pause. i love you. chan might be a man of few words, but he knows just what to say.

[kuromi-hoemie]

ngl it does really annoy me when everyone accepts “ace people don't have sex” as the baseline assumption instead of ace people just not experiencing sexual attraction.

you can still have sex but be driven by different reasons, like to me it is a kind of affection and way to hang out with people that is influenced by the relationship we have with each other. i can think people are pretty to look at with or without their clothes without sexual attraction in the mix.

when i see something full of ppl assuming ace people don't have sex i always want to jump on it and be annoying like MEEEE I'M ACE PEOPLE WHO HAS SEX, WE EXIST WE EXIST STOP ASSUMING WE DON'T THERE ARE PEOPLE WHO STRAIGHT UP WILL NOT DATE OR BE INTERESTED IN ACE PEOPLE BECAUSE OF THIS MISCONCEPTION AND WE E X I S T.

stop!!!! assuming ace people do not have sex!!!!!!!! if you don't know then ask if it's appropriate!!!!!!!!!!! stop thinking about it in a binary you either do or don't have sex kind of way!!!!!! this is fundamentally off!!!!!!!!!!!! if you are ace you do not have sexual ATTRACTION!!!!!!!!!!!

as to how we feel about and handle sex, that varies person to person but sex favorable aces are a lot more common than you'd think. hell, figuring out I'm ace was the hardest thing to figure out about myself because all i ever saw people talk about was whether you have sex or not. I'm sure there's a lot more people who haven't figured it out for this same reason, and let me tell you it's hard to know you're missing a whole ass type of attraction when you've never experienced it before and didn't know it was missing to begin with!!

ace is not synonymous with sexless. aces who don't have sex don't speak for me, and y'all gotta stop letting them be the only face of the community. there are More Of Us, it is All Of Us.

accepting that baseline at face value leaves you uninformed and it's frustrating to see this over and over again. challenge yourself to do better and try understanding ace people more.

[iarchmybaculaa]

18+!

Tags/warnings⚠️: Alcohol consumption, club setting, misunderstandings, angst if you squint, long haired Jungkook, Reader is a brat, angry Jungkook, unprotected sex (please do not practice that irl), rough sex, spitting!, breeding kink

Word count: 3.6k

🎧 : Sticky Rice-Lil Gnar, Reminder-The Weeknd, Party Monster- The Weeknd

For my loves: Tasara & @hobicakess 🩷

Beta’d by Shaq🫶🏾

A/N: I randomly found an edit in my gallery that inspired this whole thing. HEAVILY unedited bc I’m extremely sleep deprived rn so pls be nice!

Fic takes place about 4 years before "All mine" ! Enjoy?

Being married to Jungkook has single-handedly disproved every doubtful remark you've heard from everyone trying to convince you that it would be ill-advised to get married so young.

Contrary to what you've been told, the spark between has not died. In fact, you think that you find something new to love about Jungkook every day.

His love has never once not been intentional and gentle. You've never experienced being with someone who is so in tune with your body, with your mind, with your soul. Jungkook sees loving you as a competition; his only rival being his past selves.

There is no adventure that Jungkook would want to experience without you. There’s no bridge he wants to cross without holding your hand; no dance he wants to do without you beside him….or rather bent over in front of him as you are now.

The low lights of club Euphoria had switched to a dangerously deep shade of red, casting a sinful glow on your already ridiculously seductive face. Your eyes were low, whether it was from the few drinks you'd had earlier or the thick cloud of hookah smoke that floated around the club, Jungkook didn't know.

What he did know however, was that he had the most beautiful woman in the world throwing her ass back against him, in a dress so tiny that your cheeks were becoming more and more exposed as he thrust his hips forward to meet yours.

You move in sync with the music, your bodies in perfect harmony as the people around you become a blur. In that moment, it's just you and Jungkook. You and your husband.

You feel the cool air travel further up your legs as you dance. You reach behind you to pull your dress down, more out of habit than anything. You hear Jungkook groan as your hand ‘accidentally’ presses against his crotch, and you can't suppress the small giggle that escapes you.

It's a low sound, so realistically, Jungkook can't hear it that well over the near deafening music…But he sees the way your body shakes a bit. You shake the same way when you laugh at your own jokes or Jungkook's clumsiness; and he knows you well enough that he can practically hear the sound in his head.

Fuck he's in love with you.

He's so lucky to have you. He can't wait to live the rest of his life with you, to have a family with you, to take you home and fu-

His train of thought is cut off by the harsh vibration of his phone in the pocket of his slacks. He grabs your waist to stop your movements, and you stand upright. You raise a questioning brow at him.

“It's Namjoon hyung” he mouths, pointing to the phone at his ear.

You roll your eyes and shake your head. Namjoon had been on a work trip to London for the past few ( painfully long) weeks, and he still refuses to acknowledge the time difference. You two have grown to accept it, even if it means that he calls Jungkook at the most ridiculous (sometimes inconvenient) times.

The crackle of the receiver lets Jungkook know that Namjoon is talking, but he can’t make out a word he’s saying. Jungkook quickly realizes that he couldn't possibly have this conversation inside the club, so he gestures towards the door.

“I'm going to take this outside,” he says with his lips pressed up to your ear. “Do you want to come with me? Or will you be okay ‘till I get back?”

“I'm a big girl!” You pout up at him, pushing his glasses further up his nose with your pointer finger . “I’ll be fine, go take your call! Tell Joon I said hi.”

He nods and plants a quick kiss on the crook of your neck. He strokes the side of your face with his thumb and promises to be right back, before he turns on his heels. You watch as his head disappears into the crowd, leaving you standing alone and regrettably bored.

With Jungkook gone, you have nothing else to do since you two had come alone. You think standing around in a club like someone with a lost shadow would be incredibly lame. So you do what any unoccupied, married person in a club would do, you make your way to the bar to get a drink…or two.

By the time Jungkook gets back you're just a little tipsy.

You're not a stranger to alcohol per se, but unlike Jungkook who's been around enough liquor to know what blends would be good for you (strong enough to make you feel good, but not enough to make you lose your inhibitions); you don't know much (not enough if you ask him). You think of calling him, but your phone is in your purse… perched on jungkook’s shoulder.

So you do the most logical thing you can think of, and you order the prettiest sounding drink on the menu. Who can blame you?

You’re just a girl.

~

Two cups of Serendipity later, you're back in Jungkook's arms feeling absolutely giddy and incorrigibly horny.

The lights in the club are a dark blue now, and the music is even louder. Jungkook looks exactly the way he did when he left.

Sexy as all fuck.

Long hair tucked behind his hair on one side? Check.

Denim shirt? Check.

Tattoos? Double check.

Damn.

MINE! MINE! MINE!

You're not sure where he put his glasses, but you make a mental note to ask him before you leave. You do not need a repeat of the Geum putdwaeji Sikdang* incident. You know from experience that Jungkook and contacts don’t mix; and it would take over three weeks for them to get replaced…Not a fun time.

And right now? All you want to have is fun.

Jungkook’s mouth is moving, but your brain is moving too fast (or too slow) to read his lips and you can’t hear him. But his hands pull you toward him by the waist and you lean into his touch.

Your back is turned to his front as you move slowly against him the second you hear “she’s saying baby saenggakaji ma” float over the speakers.

Jungkook moves in sync with you as he always does, but his hands remain at your waist, almost rigid. His touch is shy and..Timid? His hands don’t trail up towards your breast, or towards your belly button. You find it odd, and downright ridiculous.

You grab his hands to take them upwards, and you’re instantly confused. There’s ink on both his hands? You pause.

When did Jungkook get a sleeve on both hands?

His lips brush faintly against your ear, and you’re suddenly hyper aware of the absence of the cool metal of the rings that should be in his lip.

You don’t hear a thing except the erratic beating of your heart.

Then the inconceivable happens.

Jungkook stands in front of you, arms folded across his chest and eyes glaring at you through his glasses. The lights above you start flashing, and they bounce off his shiny, silver lip rings.

But if Jungkook is in front of you…who the fuck is behind you?!

You think you might faint.

As confused as you might have been about the situation, you knew two things for sure:

1. You needed to get as far away from not- Jungkook as possible

2. You're screwed.

Not-Jungkook seems to realize your mistake, and moves his hands from your waist so can step away from him; you rip yourself away from him as if his touch burns.

You open your mouth to say something to Real- Jungkook, but your brain goes blank.

You're too dunk for this.

Jungkook gives you a quick once- over to make sure that you're unharmed, before taking a gentle hold of your wrist. He tucks you behind him as he gives Non- Jungkook a piece of his mind.

The ringing in your ears has become so loud can't even hear the music anymore, much less their argument. Your brain feels like it's been doused in water, and you feel an unwarranted giggle making it's way up your throat. You swallow it down.

Now's not the time.

From what you can see, Real Jungkook and Not-Jungkook are having a very spirited conversation. Real Jungkook seems to be holding his composure quite well, until Not-Jungkook says something that causes his jaw to tick and his hands to form fists at his sides.

But instead of throwing a punch, Jungkook takes a deep breath and walks away, pulling you behind him.

Not- Jungkook waves at you.

You don't wave back.

Jungkook is silent as he leads you out of the club and towards your car. You say nothing as he opens the passenger door and watches as you sit inside.

“Do your feet hurt?” He asks

You shake your head at him. Still, he couches on his knees and unbuckles your heels, giving your calves a brief massage before he straps you into your seat. He closes your door and grabs a bottle of water from the back seat. He hands it to you as he settles behind the steering wheel.

“Drink.” He commands. His voice isn't necessarily angry but you can hear something bubbling beneath the surface. The restraint he's exercising is audible in his voice, and for some strange reason…it excites you.

He pulls out of the parking lot slowly, careful not to accelerate too fast so your water doesn't spill.

The fog around your brain is almost completely lifted by the time you've finished the bottle. Jungkook glances at you for a moment, and releases a satisfied hum when he sees the crumpled plastic in your lap.

He doesn't smile though.

His jaw is tense and his body is rigid in his seat. He isn't touching you and you don't like it.

“Jungkook,” you say, reaching over to touch his thigh

“Are you sure?”

You look at him confused. “Am I sure about what?’

“Are you sure I'm Jungkook?”

There it is.

You have the audacity to scoff at him.

“ Of course I'm sure it's you Jungkook. Don't be ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?! You were literally grinding your ass all over some random dude you thought was me but I'm being ridiculous?!”

Your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. You know that Jungkook has all right to be upset, fuck you're upset at yourself for making such a terrible mistake. Jungkook has all right to reprimand you, but your mouth just won't cooperate with your brain. All the brat inside you heard, was Jungkook rubbing in something that you were already very embarrassed and flustered about and it just didn't seem fair.

If you thought about it…This was all Jungkook's fault really!

“ Well it's not my fault that you look like every other Korean dude with a perm!!”

The car comes to an abrupt stop as Jungkook slams the breaks.

“Excuse me?”

You roll your eyes and cross your arms at your chest. Jungkook’s eyes flick down to where your tits are bulging, but only for a moment of course.

“Stuttering is your thing Jungkook. You heard me.”

“You’ve actually lost your fucking mind.” Jungkook marvels at you, completely in disbelief at your misplaced attitude.

“I should have bent you over my lap and spanked your ass raw in that fucking club for everyone to see… But I let you off so easy, because I knew you made the mistake because you were drunk; and this is the thanks I get?”

“No.” You quip, “I’m not thanking you in any way.”

The tension between you is as thick as it was during the first 3 months of you two flirting with each other. You were both in college, desperately holding on to the title of “study partners ” even though you kept finding yourselves in compromising positions.

You were both playing a timeless game of cat and mouse. A metaphorical tug of war. Jungkook would push and you would pull; now it appeared that you were having a rematch.

He sucks the pierced side of his lip into his mouth.

You want him so bad.

Jungkook’s eye twitches.

“You’re asking for it, you know that?” He asks, face so close to yours that you can practically taste him on your tongue.

“Give it to me then.” You challenge.

Jungkook leans forwards, and you close your eyes in anticipation of a kiss.

But Jungkook doesn’t kiss you. Instead, he sinks his teeth deep into your neck, though not hard enough to break skin.

You moan at the sting, reveling in the way his soft tongue soothes his claim.

He pulls away and runs his thumb over your lip, eyes darkening.

“Did he kiss you?” He grits out.

You frantically shake your head no.

It's then that you realize just how bad this could have truly been for you. Jungkook was right. You were getting off easy.

Jungkook pries your mouth open.

“Tongue out.” he says.

You loll your tongue out and look up at him expectantly for what you know is coming. Jungkook looks directly into your eyes as he spits into your waiting mouth. You swallow without being told to; it's almost like a reflex.

Jungkook is pleased.

“Who does that taste like, baby?”

“Tastes like you,” you reply.

Jungkook hums.

He grabs your hand and brings it over to his lap. Your breath hitches when you feel the telltale rigidness of a boner in his jeans. Your heart skips a beat as you realize how painfully hard he is.

You need him.

“What does that feel like, baby? Hm? Does that feel like me? Or are you not sure?”

You whine as he rolls his hips up into your palm. “It feels like you Jungkook, I want it.”

Jungkook’s face contorts into one of mock contemplation.

You hate when he gets like this, when he pretends to consider giving you what you want when you both know it's not going to happen.

"You want to know what I think?" he muses rhetorically.

"I think I've let you get away with a little too much lately. I've always told you that your mouth is going to get you in trouble, but I've never made good on that promise, have I?" He chuckles darkly. "Maybe it's time I change that, hm?”

Your heart thumps loudly in your chest and you feel a shiver of anticipation zoom down your spine.

“Unzip me.”

Your body is in autopilot as you undo his zipper and lean forward to take him inside your mouth.

He pulls you backwards by your braids, and brings his hand around your throat.

“You're gonna take me in your mouth and you're going to keep it there until we get home.” He growls out at you

“No licking, no sucking, no moving. By the time we get home I'll be tattooed so deep in your fucking brain that you'll never mistake someone else for me ever again.” he bites out.

But in true Jungkook fashion he brushes his lips gently against yours, then he shoves his dick down your throat .

The ride home is filled with the obscene noises of you trying not to choke on Jungkook's cock.

Your eyes are watering and your nose burns from how hard you've been breathing through it. Your chest feels hollow and your jaw aches, but you're too fucked out to care.

Jungkook's cargo pants are thoroughly soaked from the way your saliva has dripped all over him. You're sure it's beginning to get uncomfortable for him to sit like this: cock hard and throbbing and in your warm, wet mouth. Yet, he sits perfectly still; unmoving.

His breaths come out in slow, controlled gasps, and it becomes exceedingly clear to you that It's taking as much effort from Jungkook not to snap his hips upwards and fuck your throat; as it is for you to not give him an actual blowjob.

The realization is absolutely riveting.

When Jungkook pulls into the driveway of your flat, he lifts your chin up , and his dick slides out of your mouth with a wet plop.

You both try to catch your breath, chests heaving and hearts thumping. Jungkook tucks himself back into his pants, and takes a deep breath before he gets out of the car.

Like the gentleman he is, he walks over to the passenger side of the car and holds your door open for you. But when you don't make any efforts to get up, he bends down and looks expectantly at you.

You pout at him and point to your feet.

You're barefoot. Of course.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, grabs you by the waist, and tosses you over his shoulder. You squirm a bit, and Jungkook promptly delivers a warning slap to your ass which settles you completely.

He opens the front door and kicks it shut behind him, waiting until he hears the security alarm activate before he moves towards your bedroom.

He tosses you on the bed and flicks the light on. Your chin is slicked with spit, you tits are spilling out of your dress, and the curly hair in your braids are sticky to the thin sheen of sweat on your face.

You look a mess.

A hot, beautiful mess that Jungkook made. His pride swells, along with another part of him.

Jungkook turns his back to you as he takes his shirt off.

“You know I love you right?,” he asks, putting his glasses on the nightstand. He tosses his shirt onto the ground and walks over to the bed. “You know that there's nothing in the world that could ever make me stop loving you?” He asks, now face to face with you as he strokes your chin.

‘I do,” you reply, your voice comes out more of a whine than you actually want it to.

“That's great baby, because this is going to feel like I fucking hate you.”

***

You both cry out when Jungkook finally slips inside you.

You've come to accept that no matter how many times you've taken him, how many times you will take him you'll never not be taken aback by the way his cock stretches you.

The lights are on, and so you can see Jungkook in all his glory. You can see way his biceps bulge and the way his abs tense. You the way his face contorts as your pussy practically suffocates him.

“ You like what you see baby?” He taunts, “had to make sure that you can actually see who's fucking you hm? Wouldn’t want you to make another mistake now would we?”

He spits the word out as if it pains him to say, and translates that pain into a vicious snap of his hips that has you lurching forward, clawing at his chest.

His thrusts are all the same. Carefully calculated and deliciously hard. His tips brush against your gspot with every fluid movement of his hips, and all you can do is whine and beg.

At one point Jungkook slows down to a torturous pace. Pulling out of you the moment he's just shy of your gspot. You can't handle being teased, you won't. You decide to up the ante.

“Jungkook,” you moan out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he grinds into you “please make me cum daddy”

Jungkook freezes and his hips stutter.

You've never called him that before.

For a moment you regret letting it slip out of your mouth. That's until you see the crazed look that comes into Jungkook's brown eyes.

He wraps his hand around your throat and starts pistoning his hips into you.

“Daddy huh?” He grits out as your juices start leaking down your thighs and unto the skin of his stomach “ is that what you want baby? Wanna make me a dad? Hm? Maybe that way people will keep their fucking hands off you huh?”

“Jungkook please!” You scream, tears pooling in your eyes from how desperately you want the sweet release you've been denied.

“You gonna let me put a baby in you princess? Gonna let me stake my claim on you for everyone to see?” He demands as he stills to a stop inside you.

“Fuck, Jungkook yes! Please I'll do anything you want just please!” You cry

Jungkook finally drives his cock upwards, it's curved head hitting your gspot at the perfect angle. Your orgasm rips through your body so violently that you sink your fingernails so deep into Jungkook's bicep that you break skin.

You cum in spurts, coating him in a thick sheen of your arousal. Jungkook cums with you, no longer being able to resist the pleasure that your body was bringing him.

Jungkook's cum spills out of him in a long, steady stream. You feel the warmth as it seeps inside you, and you clench around him reflexively, determined to keep all of it inside.

“You wanna have my babies so fucking bad.” Jungkook mumbles into your hair, voice hoarse and laced with fatigue.

And do, you mean to say, , though it never actually comes out of your mouth.

Instead, you hug jungkook to your chest, legs wrapped securely around his waist as sleep consumes you.

Fin.

[svndaysaweek]

Wanna Make You Mine — {Feat. Minji}

5k words

A/N: Hi, it’s been a while! I felt like I should write and post something, and here it is. This was not written in my best condition, but it’s Minji😌. Honored to have had @chunksworld as a beta-reader and an editor! If you find some amazingly well-written sentences most likely it’s from him haha☺️ Enjoy!

******

It was a few days ago when rain poured heavily, unexpectedly leading to one of the hottest encounters you have ever experienced in your life. And the more you reminisce, the bigger your smile grows, bittersweetly. If someone told you it was a dream, you’d buy that. A fever dream, albeit a short one. But it hasan everlasting lingering image carved in your heart. It was fire-hot, it was ice-cold. Like bubble gum you savor it when it tastes sweet, but it diminishes when the sweet is gone.

The day you forgot your umbrella is a day you will never, ever forget. It was a surprise, a super hot one to you. And like a hit-and-run, it stuns you, and then leaves, barely leaving any marks.

******

You don’t precisely remember since when, but there’s something about her that made her stand out to you. Multiple times you caught her looking your way then quickly avoiding your eyes–it happened enough for you to sense how unusual it is. 

It’s not because she stands out; she doesn’t. She is considered by many as a model student and everyone likes her. Acing quizzes, straight A’s and with a courteous manner. She was given every admirable virtue in her heart, and radiates it like it’s her body odor. A waking proof that humans can be perfect. But she’s not the one to boast about it, keeping down people’s envy in the level of admiration and friendliness. 

For you, Kim Minji is just another student who happens to be in the same school as you. Sometimes you get a nod as a sign of greeting from her and sometimes she just passes by. Still, everytime you run into her, her tranquil smile tells you how she became the model student that she is. Not a single person in this school would succeed in disliking her. You see how everyone says hi to her just to hear it back. And with no exception, she does. To you, too, of course. Sometimes she says “hi” first, and sometimes you do. 

A respectable student. That’s it. Nothing less, nothing more.

******

Today it is raining. At this point, it’s plausible that God knows you didn’t bring your umbrella for the third time this month. Third time you brought an extra tumbler, third time you left your umbrella at home, and the third time it rained. Youthink of repenting but deep in your mind you know God owes you a big apology, not the other way around.

The downpour is heavy so you decide to wait in school knowing that it will die down in a few minutes, well that's what you hope because you don't want to risk getting any of your stuff wet.

You are and have always been a quiet kid in school—an introvert. Just the right amount of friends, not really prone to being bullied, a surprisingly average amount of female interactions and above-average grades. Just one of those boys who loves listening to music, watching movies and a bunch of other things.

Can’t spend a rainy day without music on your headphones, can you? Plus, it’s just you in this big hallway so you wear it and turn the jazzy classics on while you stroll lazily along the windows. You blindly step to the comforting rhythm of the song watching the droplets kiss the window. Guess you won't blame God for the rain this time. 

You look at the dark gray concrete walls, white window frames, bright gray limestone floor, and the wooden doors of the classrooms you walk by. With the music flowing through your ears and rain crashing on the windows right in front of you, even the gloomy colors of the school building looks rather comforting.

So you walk, and walk, and walk until you’re back in front of your classroom. The rain has become a lot more silent than when it started and it’ll get dark soon. You want to spend your Friday evenings at home and not in school.

The rain will have stopped by the sunset and theair would beclean then. You wouldn’t want to miss the glow of the setting sun with such a crystal clear sky. You imagine the view it’d give you, which songs would be perfect to listen to and you just can’t hold a smile back. 

“Oh! Oh… hey…” When you open the door, Minji is frightened by you. She looks disheveled from head to toe. Her hair is frazzled, her face ruddy, her breath heavy. But what’s more desecrating is that her shirt is open, her unblemished midriff has a layer of sweat-like liquid coating it, taint on her gray bra. All of it is sent to your brain to process, which causes it to cease functioning for a second.

“D-don’t mind me.” Then she rushes to what you assume to be the restroom Kim Minji, who has never even opened a button of her shirt in school before and yet you just saw her bare belly. You’re blushing, trying not to think about it but you fail miserably. It feels dirty to be like this—she isn’t one of those provocative types of girls to you… or she wasn’t.

But you can’t explain why she’s so frantic with her skin so exposed. Why was she so out of breath and sweaty? Why was she so surprised to see you and then proceeded to rush outside the classroom?

Has she been sacred or sanctimonious? Has she been exemplary or errant?

You know it’s a rash judgment.

You step inside the classroom then walk over to your seat where you find an oddly-placed puddle on the desk. Not as big as a spilled bottle of water, not as small as the drool you usually make when you doze off with your face buried in your arms during class.

You examine it by dipping your finger on it.

Definitely not water.

Then what?

“What's this?” You find a blue switch and pick it up. 

“Hey,” Flabbergasted, you turn around so quickly that it slips out of your grip. It's Minji who's standing at the door frame, leaning slightly on the wall. 

Her shirt is still open, and so are the stains on her bra and her messy hair. It seems like she didn't tidy herself up in the bathroom. 

“Did you spill something on my desk, Minji?” For the moment you think that's what happened. Every clue provided to you is telling you just one thing, and you're pretty sure you got it right. Maybe she'll apologize, and you're going to say it's nothing and help her clean it up. She'll then thank you and say you're such a nice person.

Well, it sure is a possible series of normal things to happen. 

Unless Kim Minji brings a crazy plot twist for the two of you only.

“No, I didn't.” And step by step she approaches you. The way she walks draws your eyes to her slick legs and the uniform skirt she's wearing: dark gray as always. But it hangs way higher than usual, so high and short that you almost catch a glimpse of her underwear.

You're just standing there still, wondering why she’s acting unprecedentedly strange. You don’t even recognize that she’s already just in front of you. You’re trying your best not to look at her breasts even when she slowly squats down to the floor.

“You dropped this.” You realize when Minji hands it to you that it is a switch. That she wants it in your hand and that she wants to see you flick your finger on it and turn it on.

“Minji, is this…?” There is only a shy grin on her face. Swear to god, you didn’t even imagine in your dreams that such a thing would happen to you. You’re yet to escape the stage of denial, to be honest. Where was the heads-up to begin with?

“Wanna try turning it on?” Her tone is so casual that you didn’t get it the first time. You’re just totally dumbfounded. Minji sees it, knows it and understands it.

“Go on, do it.” Her eyes are on your fingers. Her teeth dig into her bottomlip. Her eyelids flutter. Your thumb is now on the switch, ready to flick it on. Your thumb presses on it, just enough for the knuckle to whiten up, but not really turn it on.

Her arms hug your neck, and the moment she does, you flick the switch up. You didn’t mean to, but when she hugged you your thumb automatically moved so it was turned on with a clicking sound. An embarrassed gasp leaves your mouth.

But when she buries her face in the crook of your neck and moans all the gibberish improvised excuses building in your head washes away.

At the risk of sounding grandiose, it’s rather the situation she lures you in that is overloading you mentally. It hasn't even been 5 minutes since you ran into her.

“Y-you know…” At this point you can’t even imagine what’s going to unfold. If she confesses that she is in fact an alien from Saturn you’ll sense no absurdity. You’ll just breathe it in.

You feel her body shaking by how her weight changes every second. And you’re standing there like a dumb statue, not knowing where to put your hands, even when she’s almost climaxing mere inches away and your lust is getting completely heightened by it.

“I’ve had a crush on you for so long…”

No one couldn’t have ever anticipated that. For a moment you forgot to breathe; Minji has taken it away. And when she bites into your shoulder you gasp, feeling the tingling sensation rushing down your spine.

“I’ve liked you eversince the first time I saw you by the way.” She’s struggling to make her words distinguishable in between moans and hisses, while you’re struggling to come up with a proper reaction to what you’re currently experiencing.

This whole situation you find yourself in is so foul and so hot given that she’s one of the most admirable students of your school. She was supposed to be out of your league and yet somehow the timid and quiet boy is who she wanted all along.

“You’re going to make me cum…!��� Hearing it coming through her lips makes your head spin, makes your cock throb painfully inside your pants. You don’t even expect yourself to think straight, nor want to think straight.

During the day she’s a model student, then after school she becomes a kinky pervert. It’s the least possible thing in your life to happen and yet here you are.

But when she cums and squirts on your pants, you’re proven very wrong. 

“I… I like you.” Out of breath she whispers, still cumming and you support her by her bare waist. You switch off the toy and just let her go through the bliss of post orgasm.

As she comes down her arms let go of you, still panting. “Do you like me too?” That’s not even a question, as her eyes are on your shirt and her hands are already halfway down unbuttoning it. 

“Minji…” You take her already open shirt off of her arms before fondling her breasts over her bra. Your eyes are fixed at the pair in your hands while you can feel hers glaring into your eyes.

“Mhm. Go on. Take as much as you like.” Her hands seductively unbutton your shirt, one by one, from the top down. She’s not in a hurry but in a matter of seconds your top vanishes. Then she puts her lips dangerously close to yours, hovering and tickling your lips with subtle skims. 

“But don’t forget to let me do the same, okay?” She sounds so full of confidence but her face is as red as yours. The eyelock doubles and triples the heat between you two and when the distance is completely eliminated by a messy lip lock, your heart begins to beat out of your chest.

Her tongue is aggressive inside around yours. Her hand is already a hand of a luster, already sneaking down on your pants sending shivers up to the crown of your head so easily. You grab and unhook your belt, and Minji purrs delightfully when she sees your erection spring out ontoher belly.

“This is a yes, right?” Minji pushes you lightly, just enough for you to know that she wants you on the desk. Her tummy brushes against your erection as she climbs up to face you again after swiftly removing her bra. You’re met with her mouthwatering pair of breasts pressed against your bare chest. 

“I don’t understand why…” Her fingers trace down your jawline to your lips. The placidity oozing out from her words is making you fret over—inside, you want her to take advantage of this one-way situation as much as she can. Your hands find her sweaty tits and fondle them softly, and she moans with a dreamy smile.

“But you kinda make me feel things. Unexplainable, but certainly that’s more than just love.” It's an overwhelming lust you obviously planted in her. You can see how ripe it is, and now you’re reaping it. It’s sweet, the flesh, the hue is so mature and obscene. 

“Say something, hmm?” When you part your lips to say ‘I like you too’, however, her tongue ties a knot on yours. You feel the pace suddenly upshift when she strokes your cock slowly and when you involuntarily moan and flinch. Your breaths overload your lungs while your mouth has totally fallen by what the intertwined tongues are doing inside.

“Minji… I-I like you too.” You didn’t mean to just whisper it. However it somehow did work as the cue to make her start pleasuring you with her hand. 

The smirk on her face is almost a burden to your already weary mind, topped with the anticipating lip bite. And those glaring, sly eyes which eventually force yours to squeeze shut. The sensation is too much for you to take in as it is, so your nails dig into your palms hard and your head tilts backwards. 

You don’t look comfortable at all—you aren’t, with all the unreal touches and heated breaths being poured on your skin. But that doesn’t mean you’re not enjoying this, of course. Her hand is pumping your cock at a constant rhythm, her groaning voice matches yours as if it’s as tantalizing to her as well.

“I’m glad you said that.” As if her confession was to be ignored by you. It was more of a seduction than a platonic confession to think about. Not that you can properly think while you’re getting mentally wrung by her. 

“You would’ve never known…” Minji slows down her hand around your throbbing cock. You open your eyes to be faced with her orbs mere inches away. 

Lust doesn’t seem to have dispersed from the jetty pair of pupils. “...how many times you relieved my stress from all the studying.” She continues her lewd confession of her sexual fantasies about you which could’ve been kept a secret… But what more to hide when you two are touching each other’s sex and mixing body fluids? 

When your fingers brush against her inner thighs, she hisses and tightens the grip on your cock. Nearing her core, you can feel the moist lust seeping out, leaking and running. 

“Do you think about me often too? Who am I to you?” You hesitate. But she doesn’t want any lies. Nor do you. 

“You’re just a… the model student of the school. A pretty one. A pretty, smart girl that I run into often.” You amazingly finish the sentence while riding off to the very edge of your patience under her bewitching strokes.

Just enough to feel incredibly heady but still seconds away from exploding on her hand. Your fingers aren’t idle either, as two of those smoothly enter her damp entrance. The tips of your fingers reach her toy inside and you pull it out slowly.

You see her belly flutter from the sensation of it. “Put your fingers in deeper,” She pleads as grinding herself on your fingers, situating you two in a mutual masturbation.

“I want to cum with you.” Her words trigger so many things inside you. Deeper and darker things, something the superficial you don’t possess. Something every guy would hide and keep deep under the surface and wait for the very chance to bring up.

Your fingers move, inside and out while hers move up and down. Both relentlessly, hungrily almost. The desire to see each other drown in bliss is paralleling the desire to feel it for oneself. You’re almost there, hoping that she is, too.

“Minji, I-I am… I can’t-“ You’re miserably stuttering, tongue twisted by how unblemished the sensation is from all sides—her soft hands working ever so hard and hot on the head of your cock, her lewd moans tickling your eardrums. Her face, that face making a look that just screams sex.

In no time you explode first, spurt after spurt in her hands as she still keeps on pumping it with pace. Your groan never dies down until you’re completely out of breath and strength.

Then Minji restarts grinding on your fingers that she stopped when you blasted the turbid pleasure on her fingers. You look up from her cum-coated fingers to her eyes, and it’s a head-spinning hypnosis that beams into your eyes from hers.

Dense, intense, a bit lethargic in a way and flooding with lust—seeing her crush cum in her very own hand, must’ve sent her into another galaxy at least, possibly another dimension. That is what sex can do even to a woman of high status.

“That was so hot. Now will you help me with this?” You already are when you’re snapped back from drifting off in the ocean of bliss. 

“I will.” You literally sigh words out as you still are trying to regain your breaths. You lay her down on the desks and crawl up to level with her face, fingers still making the dirty wet sound.

Minji’s face is a mess; it’s red, it’s sweaty, in need, desperate. Her eyes are fixed on your lips, her mouth agape, breathing into your face, it’s hot, her hands touching and squeezing her own breasts, her throat vibrates into your teeth and tongue when you kiss and bite it. And it happens to splash you all at once like a tsunami, but without the premonitory phenomena.

Kiss her neck, jawline and back to her lips. Her tongue welcomes yours, and after a few seconds she screams into your throat airily with her hands holding onto your shoulders.

“I’m close, I’m close, I’m-Oh!”

Hearing her you circle her clitoris with your thumb and it sends her away to bliss. To a heavenly abyss, where she doesn’t want to be bailed out. She’s squirting too, which makes it even hotter aside from her orgasming on your fingers. The watery sound makes you want to push into her even deeper.

You’re hard as rock again in no time after seeing the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen, the least touchable girl in your school cum under your body on your own fingers. In school, in your classroom, on the table.

“Oh my god, is that your bag?” It’s a black backpack that her secretion is dripping onto. Minji is more entertained than concerned to your eyes however, and so are you. You wouldn’t mind if your iPad is broken from all the water for now.

“No, I don’t care. Mine is over there I guess.” You’re not sure, but not that you ever want to be. Because your eyes lock before hers darting at your cock on her above her belly. Then she looks into you again. And that’s it.

“Do you want to-“

“Yes.” It doesn’t even need any brainpower to say yes. So you take your agonizingly hard cock to her entrance. First you rub it against her pussy slowly, and it makes her let out a small gasp.

Her hands are on your arms, tightly gripping. Her eyes, they’re fixed at yours, her beauty beaming at you, and it flutters when your tip enters her hot cavern. Her fingers dig a little deeper into your arms, her teeth into her lip, as you enter her bit by bit.

It’s a whole new sensation to be wrapped around the wet walls. And considering that this is your first time, it’s not odd to be totally enraptured and indulge deep in straight away.

“Mmm…!” Your eyes roll back when you push in until you can’t. The world around you narrows down to only you two, hot breaths, sweaty skin and a mutual high that you never want to be detached from.

“G-go on, I’ll make you feel good.” As if you need any more motivation to dive in.

Minji’s coquettish smile is the last thing you see before you spontaneously shut your eyes and groan as you go deeper and deeper. You’re barely breathing, barely thinking, barely sensing anything.

“F-fuck me…”

Her shaking voice cooing those words is a complete switch-off to your reason. She said it shyly, with a burning face and big eyes looking up at you—it must be her first time to do this—and single-handedly sending shivers up your spine.

“Ah… Mmm yes!” You begin to move, and even to the slightest moves she reacts so sensitively. Her walls are wringing around your cock, pulsing and matching her intermittent moans as you gradually, tantalizingly raise the pace.

It’s as if time itself ceased running. Just you and Minji, feeling every part of each other, moaning against each other’s skin, a locomotive with a broken brake. Broken brake, but with a fully functioning accelerator.

As you up the pace her hands find your shoulders for support as yours roam around her torso. Her sharp shoulders, to her perky tits, brushing your thumb on her stomach randomly, overloading her with your touches. 

You lack subtlety and it’s even visible to yourself. Not knowing where to put your hands, not knowing what to say, only thrusting in and out and getting so worked up by hearing her moans and her face flooding with sex.

Eyes barely holding on, moans escaping her agape mouth along with her hot breaths, blushed cheeks. Her hands find the back of your head and pull you into a kiss, and it gives you the feeling of being possessed.

Like you’ve become hers.

Like you’re fucking her pussy and now kissing her with intertwined tongues for her, not for yourself. Which somehow, to your surprise, aggravates the lust deep inside you. A hidden need for the dynamics, even unseen to you.

Seems there will be plenty of time for you two to explore it further.

You go even faster in return for the kindling kiss she dragged you into. Her grip tightens, traps you in her arms—not that you ever want to escape—suffocating you with the sloppy lip lock.

And it throws a barrel of oil to your already-flaming fire. Your breath is completely taken by Minji, without any chance to get out, your will is rather on the side of dying with Kim Minji absorbing the last breath you have.

Soon her walls begin to pulsate around your cock, her screams that reverberate in your skull are now about to tip you over into unconsciousness.

“So good… I’m about to c-cum.” Her voice shakes. Your thrusts keep the pace, at a steady rhythm you’re pounding into her leaking pussy. The tightness goes up like crazy, her thighs lock your hips in and it makes you, forces you to discover her inside even deeper.

With every thrust Minji voices out how well your cock is stirring her inside. And the elevating tension in her moans lets you know how close she is to-

“Cumming…! Fuck!”

A trance. It is a frenzy, an ecstatic upheaval that overwhelms your patience, that demolishes the dam and lets whatever behind the wall flood in.

When her fingers dig painfully deep into your head, when her teeth leave an intaglio of her love, when her legs lock you in, for you to join her with the heady pleasure…

A streak of benumbing orgasm shatters your nerves as you paint her stomach and her heaving chest. It seems to never end, spurt after spurt until the repose is here. You can only stare at her—her still high face, cum-coated breasts and tummy heaving up and down.

You both are taking in the messed up view of each other, eyes locked but no words or signals delivered. You just stare into her eyes hoping that she makes a move on you first. To take you where she wants, perhaps. Another round could be awesome, but either way you’ll be so satisfied.

Together. With Minji.

“Let me bring something to clean-”

“No.”

Her hands snatch yours. Not strongly, but just soft enough to let you know what she means.

“Stay here for more… With me.”

******

“Hey. So… Can I ask you exactly when?”

Dark purple sky, humid breeze of midsummer. Clouds that showered the earth with their own bodies are now completely gone, and you and Minji are walking down the street towards the sunset.

“It was when you picked up my notebooks I dropped. You were putting on your headphones. Hair was just long enough to look good, and on top of everything… What I fell for was the smile on your face. I don’t remember the date it happened, but it was special. So special.”

Her fingers then sneak under your palm, in between your fingers and lock with yours together. It’s warm and soft. A romantic placidity under one of the most beautiful sunsets you’ve ever seen.

Her thumb lightly brushes on the back of your hand as you keep walking down the serene road. “But I don’t think you’ve wanted to do this since then, right? Not complaining, but it was quite an unexpected way of confession. Especially from you.”

Minji giggles with her crescent eyes looking down at the ground. “It’s been only weeks… I got so stressed out from studying and one day… I tried touching myself then I suddenly thought of you. Since that day, you know, it’s been like that.” 

But there’s no shyness anymore. It’s not a secret anymore, at least between you and her. Nothing is. Nothing will be.

It’s a hot thing to think about. A girl touching herself thinking about you. And that girl being Minji is what surpasses your imagination. She even got caught pleasuring herself in your classroom today-

Or even that was part of the plan. You think of asking her about it, but at the same time, you don’t want to make any gaffe come out of your mouth. Right now is where the tinge of romance should fade in, not that.

“You can, you know, call me honey… If you… want…” Minji’s grip on your hand gets tighter as her shy laughters follow. It immediately makes your face burn. You look at her and find that it’s doing the same to her too.

“Okay, Minji-I mean, honey.” You feel your face drumming to the beat of your heart. But it doesn’t hide the happy smile on your face.

A girlfriend.

And a boyfriend.

It’s mutual from now on. The first love in your life starts.

“It’s my home already.” She stops in front of a white two-story house and turns to you.

“Alright, goodbye, honey.” You let her hand go but it doesn’t leave yours. Instead, a zesty grin blooms on her face and she hums an airy chuckle.

“Not before this.”

Her lips find yours. They don’t open, but it’s a kiss filled with heartiness, a long peck, with an artificial smacking sound made by her.

“See you tomorrow honey!”

******

It is raining just like yesterday; you forgot your umbrella just like yesterday too. And you decide to stay at school until it stops.

As if you’re seeing a deja vu of yesterday.

Only if you could see a deja vu of yesterday.

Minji didn’t run into you today. She didn’t come to your class to say hi. She didn’t come to her class. 

She didn’t come to school today.

The day passed uneventfully just like yesterday. Class after class, lunch breaks and “see you tomorrow”s from classmates. But painfully, the only one who said it yesterday with a kiss wasn’t here to keep her words.

And the day ended just like that. No sign of Minji.

“You heard that?” Just before you put on your headphones, something penetrates your ears.

“Minji moved to New York!”

What?

You almost shouted but managed to deal with that.

First, it’s denial that hits you.

“What do you mean? I saw her just yesterday!” The other guy looks as confused as you are.

Second, the word ‘why’ comes up in your head. 

“I don’t know, man. Everything I heard was the teachers talking that there was a sudden incident that left no choice for her family but to move.”

Third, denial again.

You wanted to stand up and ask them, but what you are going to get is a weird look and a “Why do you even care?”

Didn’t she tell me ‘see you tomorrow’?

It’s all complicated for now.

Maybe you yourself are to blame for not asking your girlfriend’s number.

But it doesn’t matter anymore, does it?

It was your first love, starting hot yet pure.

Now it’s as if all was a reverie.

The air you breathe hasn’t changed, the classes you attend were the same, it rained like yesterday, and your umbrella stayed at home again.

But there was no Minji, although you still hear her merrily say-

‘See you tomorrow, honey!’

******

[tarotwithlucien]

𝓨ou in the eyes of your future spouse | pick a pile

Hello everybody! Welcome to my first PAP on this account – it's also the first time I've done one about "future spouse", so I hope you like it and that it resonates with you! ♡

┈─★ Disclaimer: This reading is for entertainment purposes only and shouldn't be taken seriously or used as a substitute for medical and professional advice. It's also a general reading, so it may or may not resonate with you.

┈─★ How to choose: Close your eyes, take a deep breath and choose the image that catches your attention the most – trust your intuition.

₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ masterist | tip jar ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

── .✦ PILE 1

Shufflemancy: Moonlight/Sunrise - Rope and Ladder, It's Not The Same Anymore - Red Orange County, To - The Neighbourhood, Love Songs For The Haters - FLEECE & Maintain The Madness - The Jane Austin Argument.

Without a doubt your future spouse loves you – otherwise they wouldn't even marry you lol – and they are a protective partner towards you, so in general, they see you as someone they should protect and care for. Therefore, they can act as your knight in armor when you need it, as they are always ready to protect and defend you from all those who try to hurt you.

They also view your relationship dynamics as if you are the sun and the moon – for some of you reading this pile, you are more the moon and your future spouse is the sun or vice versa. Your future spouses see you as a beautiful and attractive person – as if you were a mermaid who mesmerizes them with your enchanting beauty. And one of the physical features they love most about you in general are your eyes because, in the eyes of your future partner, they shine in a way that they have never seen before with anyone. Not only do your eyes shine, but in your future partner's vision, you light up their entire life. Before you met and were together, they saw life in a gray way due to the adversities they faced on a daily basis and, thanks to you, they felt life gain more color, they felt love and it was as if their eyes open themselves up to everything they had never experienced before in their lives.

You probably met early and one of the things they love most is being able to look at old photos you took – whether it was when you first met, when you started dating or just photos of you together in general – and admire how you used to be and they probably compare themselves to the old version of themselves in the photo and it's really funny because you could be looking at your photos together and they laughs, points to their face in the photo and says something like “wow, I was weird ” and it’s a really cute moment between you two. They feels nostalgic in these moments and really misses that time, because unfortunately it doesn't come back and all that remains are memories – and fortunately they are good.

In the eyes of your future partner, you are going through a difficult time in your life. It's not just your partner who is a nostalgic person, you are too and you probably remember the times when your life was easier and compare it to the difficult life you have now – like when you were children, for example. They also see that you are tired and stressed about the way things in your life are – for example, you may work long hours at jobs you don't like just so you can pay the bills at the end of the month, you have to put up with people you hate and it even seems like you let people step on you so that problems don't occur (you can be people-pleasers too) and your biggest victory of the day is going home and sleeping, all while repressing what you're feeling and putting on a fake smile. Your future spouse is your family and they can tell when you are feeling bad and they think that you are being too hard on yourselves and that you may not want to admit it, but you need to seek professional help. So, if this is your case, don't be afraid or ashamed to ask for help! This is destroying your mental health, pile one, please take care of yourselves!! Stop bottling up your feelings, process them, let them go, and then stand back. Do this for yourself.

Your future spouse knows you better than you know yourself – they know what to do or say to make you feel good and are careful about what not to do or say to avoid hurting you or making you feel worse. In their view, sometimes you can end up projecting your problems onto them, but they continue to love you regardless of your flaws – just be careful that this doesn't become a toxic trait that will affect your relationship. They may have met many girls/boys before meeting you, but none of these people compare to you! This whole time in their lives, they never needed anyone, they never felt the need to have someone by their side – on the contrary, they used to be the type of person who went out to a party/bar and flirted with people just to feel good/attractive. But, from the moment they met you, things changed completely and seemed to turn upside down. Just being away from you makes your future partner's heart sink. You make them feel good.

That was all, pile one! I hope you enjoyed it and that this reading resonated with you. Don't forget to take care of yourself and seek professional help if you need it, otherwise your future partner will hit you lol

── .✦ PILE 2

Shufflemancy: Room - Ethan Tasch, Ode To a Conversation Stuck In Your Throath - Del Water Gap, Epiphany - Stained, 976-Evil - Deftones & Tulsa Jesus Freak - Lana Del Rey.

In the view of your future spouses, you are a person who doesn't like to fight in your relationship and who tends to avoid conflicts so as not to cause major problems. You may even end up staying quiet instead of taking a stand on something that bothered you and your future partners also think that you can't express yourself very well through words. It's okay not to want to fight in a relationship, because who does? But, you must understand that some conflicts are necessary and need to happen, so don't run away from them, position yourself and choose your battles well – you don't need to fight over stupid things either lol.

In the eyes of your future partner, you are a disorganized person – the type who leaves their clothes scattered all over the floor or easily forgets where their left their things because everything around them is just a mess – and they think this is just a reflection of how you are feeling inside and how your mind is going. In fact, they may think that your inability to communicate effectively in the relationship is due to problems such as depression or anxiety. Regardless of what your case may be, your future partners notice this and care about you, they accept you exactly as you are and they will not leave you in this difficult time. You may be facing mental health problems, which leave you tired and without energy to do basic tasks like tidying your room and that's okay, just don't forget to take good care of yourself and, if necessary, seek professional help as it will be very beneficial for you!

For some of you reading this pile, before you finally became a couple, you and your future partner were best friends and all this time they tried to convince themselves that you were just that, but deep down they wanted to be tying you to the bed 🤭. They really wanted you and things are no different now. You also seem to be a popular couple who attract the attention of other people wherever you go, as if you were a celebrity couple or just people who are very loved by others.

In general, your future spouse is very jealous and possessive of you, so they want to be the only ones who can touch you in this way and just imagining people other than them touching your body the way they love to touch you so much chills down their spine lol. Just like in pile one, one of the physical features they love most are your eyes and they love just looking at them. One of the activities they love to do with you is traveling – in fact, any time they can spend time with you makes them happy. Your future spouse is so cute, because in the moments when they notice you are down, they do everything they can to make you laugh or just smile. In their view, in moments when you're feeling bad, you tend to walk away just to calm down - and for some reading this pile, this could apply to your future partner.

That was all, pile two! I really hope you enjoyed this reading and that it resonated with you. Just like in pile one, don't forget to take care of yourself and seek professional help if necessary 😠

── .✦ PILE 3

Shufflemancy: White Roses - Greyson Chance, Nervous Young Inhumans - Car Seat Headrest, I'll Follow You Into The Dark - Miya Folick, Uzumaki - Softcut & Dancing In The Moonlight - alt-J

Your future spouse is totally devoted and blind with love for you, pile three! In the eyes of your future partner, they can't live without you and they can't even imagine what their life would be like if they didn't have you by their side. It seems like from the first moment you met, just by looking at you, they felt attracted and didn't waste any time, they went to ask you out on a date lol. Just like the future spouses in pile two, your future partners are also jealous, the only difference is that they seem to be more jealous than the partners in the previous pile, because just seeing you going out, having fun with your friends without them around your side already makes them jealous.

The future spouses in this pile think that you still don't know all sides of them even though you are together. They may have red flags that you haven't noticed or ignore, so it's good to be careful. They may have addictions like alcohol or drugs, they may have bad habits, they may be overly possessive/jealous, controlling, aggressive or end up giving you the silent treatment or distancing you from them when you fight or there is a problem going on in your life as a couple – and maybe that's why you feel the need to walk on eggshells in your relationship to try to prevent your partner from acting that way towards you, which isn't cool. If for any reason you are uncomfortable, they disrespect your boundaries or you simply no longer want to be in the relationship, don't be afraid to walk away!

Because of what I mentioned above, your future spouses see you as someone who doesn't raise their voice in a fight, who doesn't point the finger in their face when they're wrong - they see you as someone who basically never showed their bad side to them. In their view, you understand them. Your future partners may also be individualistic and not have a black and white view of life – that is, they do not follow concepts such as “good” and “bad” and usually only do what is beneficial for them. Furthermore, they usually give back to others what they first received or what they think others deserve. But when it comes to you, it's different. It seems like they control themselves and use the power they have to give you what is good – they know they can affect your life, so they choose to affect it in a positive way. In my opinion they are weird, ngl lol.

Even though I think they're weird lmao, they would be willing to go through hell with you if necessary. They would be with you in times when no one else would be and they would be your refuge, ready to hug you and comfort you.

That was all, pile three! I really hope you enjoyed it and that the reading resonated with you. Be careful with emotional dependence, don't be afraid to set boundaries and, if necessary, let go of relationships that no longer serve you! Until the next PAP ♡

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