#zero’s romance bullshit

[zero-braincells-left]

completely normal and sane google searches

[qaanngi]

so rookanis is just xiaolumi 2.0 for me huh. u have a type huh girl. so this shit was written in the stars before the game even launched. i was doomed from the start.

they're just older looking and ever so slightly taller lmfaooo

[meat-loving-meat]

Just finished The Book Eaters by Sunyi Dean for a book club and it was. Fine? I guess? Legitimately the most 🤷 book ever. It wasn’t bad at all—I actually thought that the writing style was pretty appealing—it just didn’t compel me

[indiaalphawhiskey]

Interesting what people are taking away from S3, particularly the discourse around how Pen wasn’t properly romanced or courted “because she’s a mid-sized lead.”

Babes. My love. Sweetheart.

Daphne was fake courted for weeks and then compromised and then denied a proposal.

Kate was all tension, turmoil and heartbreak and then compromised further.

Pen got:

- two stags locking horns over her affections,

- chased down in a carriage,

- a man on his knees for her begging her to see him as a prospect,

- the best (imo) “I have feelings for you and have no idea if you feel the same but I just need you to know it” speech since 2005 P&P,

- a very sexy and consensual, if compromising, romp in a carriage,

- FULL AND IMMEDIATE COMMITMENT WITH ZERO BULLSHIT because this man could not live one more second without her being his,

- defended to her mother,

- paraded around the ton and in front of her worst enemy’s face,

- the most utterly reverent sex scene in the history of the show,

- an engagement ring that matched his mother’s because of the parallel friends to lovers love story,

- and him constantly worried out of his mind that he wasn’t good enough for her

✨ AS ✨ SHE ✨ DESERVED ✨

I mean, maybe I’m a little too modern but that beats a promenade and flavored ice dates and calling hours by literal lightyears. That angel girl was thoroughly — damn nearly aggressively — romanced.

Do I still have issues with the screen time, absolutely, but Jesus if Colin wasn’t head over heels whenever he pulled his head out of his ass. (And even, sometimes, when he hadn’t.)

[elvesofnoldor]

i know im probably a million years late but i just figure out that Deanery Targaryen is literally just Akasha, and Jon Snow was probably fucking Lestat. QOTD is published in 1988, Martin started writing his books in the 1990s, so the timeline'd matched. Can't believe G.R.R Martin took Queen of the Damned and translated the plot of that book into the meta arc of Songs of Ice and Fire series and when the ending of his books is finally revealed in the tv show series finale, everybody fucking hates it. This man was probably gonna make Akasha and Lestat more boring and thought it'd be a good idea. He literally just took something that's already flawed and made it worse lmao this is too funny

[riizebabie444]

𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙛𝙪𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙥𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙮 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚

─── hey everyone, back with another pac. this one is about your future spouse and your family life with them. please remember to support with reblogs and feedback!

i'm currently going through a tough time financially and would appreciate if you considered booking a reading with me <3

─── picking your pile: take a deep breath and allow your soul to centre itself. when you feel your mind balanced and cleared, allow yourself to be drawn to an image. your eyes may gravitate to one, or you may close your eyes and feel which image is calling out.

─── be sure to check out my other readings and don’t forget to share and give feedback. disclaimer: all readings done are for entertainment only. please do not use my tarot readings as a replacement for legitimate advice.

ʚɞ ─── masterlist. paid readings. exchange rules.

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pile one

who is your future spouse?

with the hermit and the queen of swords, i see your future spouse being an introverted person, they like to spend a lot of time alone. perhaps this is because of past relationships that made them prefer to be alone, but i also see a case where they just like being alone because they would rather have zero connections that put up with bullshit people. they trust their inner guidance and don't force themselves to be around people that don't add value to their lives.

in that sense, they say it how it is. if they're not happy about something, they'll make it clear. they are perceptive and hate when others have hidden agendas or sly intentions. they can see right through it. they're a quick thinker, intellectual and emotionally intelligent. but sometimes a bit to harsh and strict with both themselves and others. they can be judgemental sometimes. however, they are a wise person who cuts through the noise. they see the truth easily.

how will they love you?

with two of pentacles and eight of pentacles, they seem like a practical lover. they seem like more of a traditional lover too. not necessarily in the way that they will fulfil traditional gender roles in a relationship, but in the sense that they seek balance above all else. they want to be on equal grounds with someone, and understand a relationship and love in general takes a lot of work. so they will fulfil the role in the relationship that you both expect of them, and they also expect the same from you.

they will work hard to meet your standards, so you will also need to work hard to meet their standards. they show their love with equality, equal effort, equal treatment. for most of you guys, this doesn't mean equality with money etc, like splitting the date costs. but more so about the effort you both put in. that being said, they will put in a lot of effort. relationships are an investment so you will definitely feel like they are investing in you by maybe spending money on you, spending time with you, sharing things with each other. they don't love for what they can gain, they love for what they can share with you.

while you are dating, i do not think they are the most romantic person. they are more practical than romantic but that doesn't mean the feeling aren't there. they just express their love in different ways because that is how the circumstances they've experienced has shaped them. i do see they have big love for you and they try really hard to show it, but it won't always be in the ways you want or expect.

family life with your spouse

with knight of cups and justice, family life however does seem more romantic. i think living together and having a domestic life together will definitely change how they express their love. they will be more obvious with their feelings and needs for you, they will adapt and express their love in the ways you like. i'm seeing more romance and grand gestures which they may not have understood prior to marriage. but after marriage and having a family, they understand it better and will show you. they will be a lot more emotional also.

i see they will still be practical. they could be a bit strict about routines, especially with children. though, family life will open up both of your emotions as there is so much to explore with a family. i see it being very chill and peaceful, some conflicts here and there but honestly, family life seems nice. it will be fair and equal. you will both contribute to the home fairly, they will recognise when either one of you is doing too much or not doing enough, and then they will work to balance it out. i see fair treatment for all children, like no favouritism or double standards. i see a lot of accountability and responsibility. family life seems so mature but in a good way.

pile two

who is your future spouse?

with ten of wands and justice, they seem like a burdened person. they have experienced a whole lot in their lives. they are someone who is afraid of being judged, they might deal with anxiety, but they try not to show it. they are someone who bottles feelings up instead of sharing them. they may be dealing with struggles when you meet them, but overall, they are talented and hard-working. but may sometimes work too hard and burn themselves out.

they have a lot integrity though. if they say they're gonna do something, they will. this could also indicate they have a hard time saying no so they often end up having too much to do which leads to them feelings overwhelmed and exhausted. honestly, your spouse seems like a bit of a mess, they need more balance in their lives. i think they're prone to escapism. i'm supposed to be getting positive messages but with this pile, their messy energy is strong. they have good morals, they won't ever do something they know is inherently bad. they are law-abiding, and maybe follow the rules too strictly. but they are also a lover of simplicity. simple is beautiful to them, and they pay attention to details.

how will they love you?

with the knight of pentacles and wheel of fortune, i think your spouse meeting you is a pivotal point in their life. like they will experience so much clarity in your journey together, and i'm seeing it can help them to change their ways. naturally, they are a good planner so they will love planning things for you. for examples, planning nice dates that fit your taste exactly or planning surprise gifts for you. they'll take notice of all the things you like and don't like, everything they learn about you will be stored in their brain for future reference. they will be hard working when you are with them, in their job, with their family, in your relationship. this energy is different to their overall energy, so i'm seeing they will really change when meeting you or prior to meeting you. they will start to get their life in order.

they will be so kind and loving, they won't let anyone treat you bad. they will also try to deter you from bad decisions also. i mentioned already they are strict with morals, so if you try to do something they don't view as good, they will try to stop you. not in a way to control you but to show you how to be the better person and not stooping to low levels. like, of course they will defend you. but say if you're just being petty or bitter and it is influencing your decision, they will guide you to the better path. they will love you by constantly reminding you how they think destiny brought you together. they will rejoice in your successes and share their own with you.

family life with your spouse

with the hermit and the chariot, i see that you guys will be very private. i think after getting married, you guys might become recluses but it is just because you guys want to spend so much time together without anyone else bothering you. i think maybe you guys might move somewhere new to start your family so you might not know a lot of people, which can also explain your guys' privacy. i see so many late night talks throughout your lives together. you would not get bored of hearing each other talk. you would also help each other uncover your dark pasts and difficult emotions, and face them together.

i see you guys having a lot of willpower. if there's something you want to do as a couple or a family, you will do it. i see children for some of you and not children for others, so take it as it resonates. you will make decisions that will be in alignment with your values. as a family, i see a whole lot of determination. not letting outside influences get to you or your children. you guys would overcome anything. i see so much mundane, day to day domesticity, but also balanced out with exploration of the world. your family could have regular holidays to travel the world. you could have an active family also, like physically active but also just active in the community. if you have children, i see them being very goodhearted. you would raise them well.

pile three

who is your future spouse?

with the moon and ace of pentacles, i'm getting lucky girl/boy syndrome from your spouse. they feel so young-spirited, but they have also experienced a lot. i'm also seeing pretty privilege, so they would be very attractive, and perhaps it helps them to get the things they want in life. however, i think they are quite emotional, and they have a big imagination. they dream of big things, and bright and eventful future. and i think they are known for being caring and nurturing. they have a lot of empathy. but although they are emotional, i see them being quite practical too.

it seems like they're good with money, they don't have a lot of trouble finding good jobs. overall, you will think they are so lucky. security and stability is important to them though, so that's why they are happier and brighter when things go their way. they like to embrace new beginnings but they will always consider the risk. they might come off as careless and impulsive but honestly a lot of thought goes behind all of their actions. they don't do things for the sake of doing them, but rather to enrichen their lives with experiences. i see they may be into manifestation and even spirituality. they try to work on their limiting beliefs because they don't want to be the person holding themselves back. they may look very positive and extroverted, but deep down, they are sensitive and introspective.

how will they love you?

with the knight of wands and the well reversed, i see them being the one to approach you. they will bring opportunities to you, push you out of your comfort zone and help you move closer towards your own dreams. they will be so enthusiastic around you. you absolutely won't be worrying about whether they like you or not because they will show it. if they like you and want to be around you, you will know. and if they don't, then they will also make that clear. they wear their heart on their sleeves. i see them trying to be a bit manly though, whether this is a man or a woman. they will try to act like a macho man which they will enjoy, but just trust that they are also heartfelt and have big feelings even when they wear this mask approaching you.

they will be patient with you, but only to an extent. like, they hate the feeling of waiting for forever. they are excited about what is to come so they will be uncomfortable if you make them feel stuck in place or if you are stuck in the past. they will show their love by helping you overcome your past, helping you close the old chapters of your life before heading onto the new one. i'm seeing that their energy will not be cold or stagnant, though sometimes i see you are the one who makes the relationship feel that way. and they will show their love by not giving up on you, they will bring you along to better places even if they have to drag you. they hate seeing you hung up on the past.

family life with your spouse

with the ace of cups and five of swords reversed, i definitely see you both overcoming troubles from the past after marriage. family life is a new beginning for you both. you or them or both could be very excited for children, for having a home together. it feels almost dreamy when you guys live together. it feels like you both will blossom and thrive as a family, so many new experiences and emotions. romance will also increase. i see you will also meet so many new people, like family members or new friends. you will be surrounded by good people, your spouse will make sure of that and to get rid of anyone who treats you how you were treat in the past.

any conflicts you guys come across, i see you guys resolving them and moving forward stronger. some may just be minor so it is easy to move past them, but even the bigger conflicts, you will both work on them. you guys won't run away at the first sign of trouble, you will stick together even when you hate it and eventually it will turn out good again. there is a lot of compromise and communication. it's not always going to be easy but i see time and time again, you guys will get through it. this isn't the type of marriage and family you want to walk away from, it's the type you want to fight for. so every time, you will always move forward and create positive changes for each other and your children.

© riizebabie444 — all rights reserved. please do not copy, steal, repost or translate my readings on any site. any act of which will be classed as plagiarism.

[tyuns-world]

🖇️ Mr. Mr.🖇️

Pairing: fem! Reader x boss! Yeonjun

Genre: smut, secret romance, power imbalance, degrading, slight cnc not really but didn’t want to chance it

Warnings: smut

Summary: What started as a simple internship turns into something more when your boss offers you a part-time position. As you grow closer, the line between work and personal begins to blur, and things quickly spiral out of control.

You had planned to work here only for a paid summer internship. This office wasn't even in the field you truly aspired to work in. Yet here you are, accepting a part-time position offer from the boss. The very boss who lays you down on his table during his lunch break.

He wants you close, and he wants you available. The position is a step back from the internship job—you'd just be his personal assistant—but imagine how much easier it would be to satisfy him, without worrying about who sees you coming and going from his office at odd hours.

He knows you'll accept; he knows how addictive he is, how no one can say no to him, especially you. You couldn't say no even on your first day when he ordered you to bend over, and you just did it, only asking questions after the fact.

"Is this appropriate, for me to bend over your desk like this, Mr. Choi?" you ask, your chest resting on his desk while your backside is arched in the air.

Your tight pencil skirt hugging your curves, the slit on the side revealing more of your long, thick brown legs covered in tights. He almost—keyword almost—drools at the sight.

"You're asking after you've already done it?" Yeonjun chuckles. Despite being confused, you make no moves to get off his desk.

"Why did you follow my order so obediently, Y/N?" His hand slides over your ass, and you arch your back in response to his touch.

"You're the boss. I just assumed it's kind of like a test to see if I'll follow your orders, and I will. I'm very hardworking, so you'll never have any problems with me." You pitch yourself to your boss, but he's wholly uninterested in your qualifications. He just saw how hot you looked in your office wear and wanted to fuck you.

"Mhm, so you'll follow any command your boss gives?" He lightly smacks your ass. You jump a bit, feeling your panties grow damp from the exchange.

"Yes, I've never worked under anyone before, and I don't want to ruin this opportunity." You're bullshitting. You thought he was sexy from the moment you saw him and were more than willing to comply with his every desire.

He had a seductive, fox-like face, his hair was styled down, with the top button of his shirt casually undone, exposing his very inviting collarbones. His attire was meant to give off a more laid-back boss vibe, though everyone knew the tight control he has and his zero-tolerance for errors.

"Mhm, so if I ordered you to take off your tights and panties, you'd do it?" His voice held a lot of amusement. It was clear he didn't expect such a bold move on your first day. He enjoyed teasing, he wanted to flirt with you, make you blush every time he passed by, and then after a while get you bent over his desk.

"If that's what you wish." you stand up, remove your shoes, and drop your tights and now-soaked panties. Returning to your previous position on his desk

His eyes widen in surprise. Either you're really bold or desperate to be in his good graces, either way, he doesn't care. You're offering yourself up to him on a platter. How could he say no?

"You know, you should wear shorter skirts around here; makes for easier access," he says as he rolls your skirt up over your ass. The cold office AC air hits your wet cunt, causing you to shiver a little.

"Okay, Mr. Cho—" he cuts you off. "Just call me Yeonjun."

"Okay, Mr. Yeonjun." That earns you a spank on the ass. "I said just Yeonjun. What happened to never making any mistakes, hmm? I'm not one who takes too kindly to people who can't do simple tasks." He rubs your ass where he spanked, soothing it but also reminding you what happens if you mess up.

"I'm sorry, Yeonjun. It won't happen again."

Oh, how tempted you were to do it again. You wanted him to touch you more, to spank you harder, to bring you to tears. "That's a good girl," his voice deepens, and you moan at his words.

He rubs his finger over your pussy, gathering all your juices. You start panting, moans threatening to escape. You don't know how soundproof his walls are, and you're not trying to find out.

He sinks that finger deep inside your pussy. You moan, your back arching with pleasure. "Mr. Yeonjun, are you sure this is a good idea?" The "Mr." slips out; you weren't trying to test his patience currently.

He slaps your ass again, harder this time, causing it to jiggle from the force. "Mhm, see, I was gonna take it nice and slow—that's what I do for my good, obedient girls. But it seems you're a naughty bitch, and naughty bitches don't deserve nice and slow." He withdraws his finger and quickly replaces it with his dick.

You cry out at the intrusion. He was big and, not to mention, thick. His thrust hurt, but he didn't give you time to recover. No, he immediately starts fucking into you. Tears fill your eyes, the mix of pleasure and pain feeling too intense, too overwhelming.

"This is what you deserve—to be fucked however I like." He emphasizes the "I" in his sentence. He's the one in control here, and right now, he controls you and your pleasure.

He grips your waist forcefully as he snaps his hips into you, the sounds of skin slapping and squelching filling the room. His grip is so tight it's bound to leave a bruise, and you whimper at the thought.

He wraps his hand around your neck, pulling you close against his chest. "Are you enjoying this?" he whispers into your ear. "Being taken without remorse?" You try to nod in response, but all you can focus on is how he stretches you so perfectly with his cock.

He chuckles softly into your ear, and you groan at the sound, instinctively rolling your hips onto his dick. He spanks you again. "No moving, toy."

Those words excite you. Right now, he sees you as nothing but a plaything to satisfy his desires, and you love it. You crave his dominance, wanting him to use your body however he pleases, whenever he desires.

Yeonjun's thrusts quicken and deepen, his head falling onto your back. "Fuck, I'm close," he mutters.

His grip on your waist tightens, fingers digging into your flesh, marking you as his. Each thrust grows more powerful. His hand moves from your neck to your clit, rubbing circles that send jolts of pleasure through your body, causing you to tighten around his cock. "Good girl," he growls.

A deep groan escapes his lips as he tips over the edge, biting into your neck, almost drawing blood as he cums, filling you with his thick substance.

He withdraws from you, his seed spilling down your legs. He takes out his phone, snaps a picture of the sight, and comments, "Nice."

"Stay still. I'll get something to clean you up," he says, exiting the room briefly before returning with warm, wet paper towels. He cleans your legs and pussy, planting kisses in the area. "There you go," he says, finishing up and pulling your skirt back over your ass. As you reach for your tights and panties, he stops you.

"You're going out like that. Put your shoes back on." You comply silently. "Well, that concludes your interview. I expect to see you bright and early tomorrow, Y/N." He winks as you leave his office. He pockets your garments for later and sits back in his chair, satisfied.

[hwangism143]

all i want for christmas

synopsis the three christmas parties minho spent loving you and the one where he finally told you.

pairing non-idol!minho x fem!reader

genre holidays, best friends to lovers, fluff, comfort, 3 + 1 format

warnings mentions of foods, fires, cheating, physical violence (jokingly), swearing, pregnancy ;) , kissing, not proofread

word count 4.3k words

now playing all i want for christmas - mariah carey

a/n wow. so. i'm back. i genuinely missed you guys so much and im so happy to write again. i felt really guilty for just disappearing but this might be my only fic for a while. im sorry if it's bad im genuinely so out of practice.

"i don't need a lot for christmas, there is just one thing i need"

zero.

Love was a dreadful, terrible thing. Minho knew firsthand.

He also knew that love could be beautiful. It existed everywhere.

It existed when Minho would feel a smile break out on his face when he would step through his door to the sound of his cats. He knew it existed in the way Chan always made sure that Seungmin had eaten and Jeongin wasn't too hard on himself. It existed in the way Hyunjin wore his emotional scars with pride and in the way Changbin's face would scrunch up adorably as soon as he saw his girlfriend.

But love must be a horrendous thing if it could someone as deserving of it as you through such excruciating pain.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

year one.

Minho always associated loving you with Christmas. It was mainly for two reasons: because you loved Christmas, and Christmas was when he realized he loved you.

Minho had become your best friend on the first day of college when you stumbled into him while looking for your batchmates after orientation. It was almost fate (despite Minho considering fate to be bullshit), the way he held onto your shoulders to make sure your face didn't hit the floor and you gave him a weak, petrified smile.

"Computer Science major?" he asked, and your quick reply in the positive laid the foundations of your unbreakable friendship.

Minho knew he loved you for a long time. But the realization of it dawned on him during your annual Christmas party when the two of you were in your second year of college.

You were absolutely fanatical about Christmas. Despite Minho's protests about your fascination being sickening, he secretly found it extremely endearing. You had confessed to him once, how your love for Christmas stemmed from the fact that you only saw your father during Christmas due to his demanding job of a military's medic.

That was the day Minho vowed to make sure nobody could ruin your Christmas.

You went all out Christmas decorations at your apartment. Your Christmas tree was huge and adorned with ornaments of various shapes, sizes and colours. Minho came early to help you and your roommate Kyujin with the Christmas baking, considering how last time the two of you tried to bake it took swatting towels and spraying water to get the smoke detector to stop.

But you were most excited to introduce your boyfriend to the rest of your friend group.

Minho wasn't happy about it, but he was happy for you. You loved the idea of romance but for some reason that Minho could not fathom, thought yourself undeserving of receiving the romantic variant of it. But your first boyfriend, whom you'd been seeing for three months, quickly changed that.

You were practically bouncing up and down on your toes as your mutual friends trailed into your tiny apartment.

"Y/N!" Jisung squealed as he barreled into your arms.

"Sungie!" you replied in equal enthusiasm.

Minho's heart melted watching you, his best friend, and Jisung, his roommate, getting along so well. In fact, sometimes he felt third wheeled by his two favorite people who wouldn't have known each other if it wasn't for him.

"Tonight," Jisung declared proudly, "I will serenade Minho with a tear-jerking rendition of 'All I Want For Christmas'."

Jisung stood on top of your couch, arms spread out proudly. He sent Minho a boisterous wink and Minho tried to hide a chuckle while rolling his eyes.

"The only tears shed will be because of Jisung's pathetic voice," grumbled Hyunjin, Jisung's best friend, already dreading the moment when he would have to drag his drunk and sappy ass back home.

Your cheeks turned pink in a poorly contained laugh while Hyunjin just gave you a shrug, only the three of you privy to Hyunjin's comment. Minho saw your face and found his own flushing, quickly blinking to make sure nobody noticed. Jisung shot Minho, you and Hyunjin an accusatory glance, but your little smirk caused him to look away in annoyance.

"I will not date you, Jisung," said Minho in an overly dramatic voice. Jisung pouted and this time, the whole room burst into laughter until Kyujin yelled a string of obscenities at him to get him off the couch.

But throughout the whole debacle, Minho's eyes only belonged to you. He couldn't help but wonder, how would you feel about dating him? These feeling had been brewing for long, even before you started dating Taehyun What's-His-Face. Minho knew he had feeling for you, but today he would realize just how deep they ran.

"You okay? Your cheeks are red man. Like, tomato red," asked the ever vigilant Chan.

"Oh, um, yeah. I'm good," replied Minho nervously, hoping that Chan didn't notice.

"Yep," said Chan, clearly unconvinced, his eyes still narrowed on Minho.

Minho did not get nervous easily. He was calm, stoic, composed. But around you, he was a ticking time bomb. You made Minho feel like a thousand dazzling fireworks had lit up in his stomach. You made him want to be spontaneous, silly and scream from the rooftops that he liked you and wanted to be with you.

You made Minho feel things he had never felt before, and it broke him everyday watching you feel those same things for someone who wasn't him.

Minho's eyes looked for yours, you slipping away sometime when he was contemplating his lost love. He finally found you, leaning against Kyujin bedroom door. Your loose sweater hung off a shoulder and pointer finger of your right hand was caught between your teeth. In your other hand was your phone which lit up when you opened.

God, you looked ethereal.

Until your eyes flickered up and down, you blinked multiple times and your brow creased while your bottom lip quivered. Minho had known you long and intimately enough that something was very, very wrong. Before you even looked up at him, your eyes conveying a silent cry, Minho was striding towards you like a man on a mission.

"Minho," you choked out, and he whisked you into Kyujin's room, giving a concerned Kyujin watching everything a tight nod as he did.

"Minho, Minho, he -" you were sobbing, gasping in wretched breaths that made it feel like a knife was twisting into his heart.

He watched you nearly terrified, rubbing your back soothingly. Minho murmured sweet nothings into your ear to get you to calm down and explain to him what had happened as his on heart raced at nearly a thousand miles per hour.

"What happened sweetheart? Y/N?" Minho asked, his voice laced with worry.

Wordlessly, you handed over your phone to him as you buried your face into his shoulder.

[7:32 PM]

taehyunnie: look y/n, i hate to do this on christmas but

taehyunnie: i have had something come up

taehyunnie: so i won't make it

[7:34 PM]

taehyunnie: quite frankly, we should break up

taehyunnie: i don't think either of us is in the right mental state to date right now.

taehyunnie: sorry.

Minho was seeing red. How could someone do something like this to you? You, who was perfect to the extent where even your imperfections were perfect? Minho was about to ask you what day you would like for him to murder Taehyun when you interrupted him.

"He's not wrong," you said, your voice barely a whisper. "I was so excited to date someone that I probably got to clingy and scared him off."

"That's not true," said Minho shaking your shoulders, "That's not true, anybody would be tripping over their feet to date you."

And as Minho repeated those words to you like a chant, over and over again until you believed them as much as he did, he felt a sinking feeling in his chest. Guilt simmered in his stomach because of the thoughts he was having.

Amidst the winter chill and your broken cries, Lee Minho realized that he was hopelessly and damningly in love with you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

year two.

The second year Minho spent Christmas with you, things had changed. Minho's hair grew longer, curling at the base of his neck and you forbade him from cutting it. You had let go over your initial heartbreak from the events of the previous Christmas and for some reason, deluded yourself into thinking that you were unlovable.

The only thing that barely changed was Minho's love for you, apart from maybe how it increased in magnitude.

"You should tell her, you know. Or else you'll end up regretting it," remarked Hyunjin wisely.

The ever so observant boy was the only one who knew about Minho felt when it came to you. Even then, he didn't know the uncharted depth of how much Minho loved you. Just that he hopelessly and unequivocally did.

Minho glared at him in response, snatching a brownie from Hyunjin's hand, and began eating it as Hyunjin grumbled next to him in vain.

Minho was well aware that he was right. But he (foolishly), thought he was sparing you pain by miserably keeping his feelings to himself.

Minho hated and adored every second of loving you. He hated how stifling it was, not being able to whisper soft words of romance in your ear late at night and wake with you in his arms the next morning. But he adored how his heart picked up pace at just the sight of you and how he felt weightless at your featherlight brushes of his arm.

To put it simply, loving someone from afar was as temperamental as the oceans; the tides were hauntingly beautiful and gorgeously devastating but they were impossible to escape from.

An ugly metaphor, felt Minho, who had yet to master the art of swimming.

Minho sat on the couch, Hyunjin and Jeongin playing Mario Kart on one side of him and Chan and Kyujin engaged in an intense game of Uno on the other side of him. You were off socializing as you often did during your annual Christmas parties, but Minho knew you would come back to him.

You always did.

Minho set up shop at five in the morning that day with you. Kyujin had a Christmas dance recital that day, and you both were one set of hands down. From morning, the two of you diced, rolled and baked, dusted and decorated, troubled each other and even had a little tickling bout followed by a pillow fight (and plate of burnt snowman shaped cookies).

This was the future that Minho wanted, you by his side engaging in mundane activities with lazy, soft kisses peppered to each others lips every dya.

He watched, sick with envy, as Changbin scooped up his girlfriend Chaeyeon in his arms and start pressing kisses to her face while she squealed. Minho watched in dread and unease at all the couples around him engaged in extravagant acts of romance and subtle domesticity, dreaming of when, if ever, that would be you and him.

He was so distracted by the torrential current inside him that he hadn't noticed when Kyujin and Chan shifted their game to the kitchen island and you had sat down next him.

"Hi," you told him softly.

Minho blinked rapidly a the voice he would recognize anywhere, the one that beckoned him in his dreams and went silent in his nightmares. Behind you, Jisung and Seungmin were brazenly building a stacked tower of cookies which Minho knew would fall and create a mess unless prevented, but he chose to ignore it.

"Hey," replied Minho, turning around  to drink in your entire figure.

"I'm happy I've detached from romance, Minho," you informed him as your arm brushed his, "I don't think dating's for me and..."

Your voice trailed off and you turned to look at him, look into his eyes with an oddly melancholic smile that was contradictory to your earlier statement of happiness.

"I think I'm finally healing."

And under the Christmas lights with you in your Santa hat with the tip of your nose tinted pink from the cold, Minho had never loved and lost more.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

year three.

Christmas this year was filled to the brim with nagging from your end about why Minho refused to find a girlfriend despite your self-proclaimed temporary vow of celibacy. It was also the year that Minho realized the importance of the time he had with you.

"Come on Min," you groaned at Minho as he pulled up his sleeves and start kneading the cookie dough, "You'll love Sullyoon."

No, he wanted to say, I love you.

Instead, he responded with, "If I'm off with a girl, who'll make sure Jisung, Kyujin and Hyunjin don't end up burning down the apartment?"

You just laughed and made your way from behind the counter to the dining table, where Minho was busy at work. After he was done, you took the dough, neatly rolled and cut the cookies into shape and propped them in the oven. Minho was busy setting up a Christmas movie in the living room and you sat next to him, closing your eyes and resting your head on his shoulder.

Minho would have tensed, if it weren't for how habitual he had become to these touches form you he was the recipient of after practically moving in with you.

Kyujin moved out of the apartment after she got a part time job at a dance institute about a half hour away from where you both lived. She needed the easy commute, and rent was not that difficult to pay for you due to your comfortable internship since sophomore year of college at a reputed tech company.

Minho, the only other person who was in the internship program with you, basically lived at your apartment. He had his own bed, clothes and even toothbrush at your apartment. He stayed nearly five nights in a row, going back to his actual apartment over the weekends to make sure that Jisung was alive and feeding himself more than just chicken breast.

This new development caused Minho to think that maybe, just maybe you harbored feelings for him the way he did for you. The two of you basically functioned like a live-in couple, so much so that your neighbors would mistake Minho for your boyfriend more often than not.

That's why Minho couldn't understand why you were so insistent about him meeting Sullyoon.

The party started soon after. Seungmin begrudgingly wore a Santa hat on his head and Jeongin clicked a picture of him at every possible occasion. Hyunjin and Chan introduced their girlfriends and everybody positively loved Karina and Lisa. Jisung gushed to everyone about the current guy he liked, Yeonjun, and Changbin informed his friends that on New Years, he planned to propose.

In the midst of it all sat Minho and you, arms looped around each other, both feeling love of different magnitudes.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

You were dragging Minho to meet Sullyoon, evidently sitting in your room, despite his protests. You were wearing a long, billowy dress with a checkered pattern of red and white boxes that Minho teased made you look like a picnic blanket. But the truth was he loved it, he loved you and he did not love being taken to meet another woman by the one he was in love with.

"Have fun!" you grinned and shut the door behind yourself, waltzing away with immense satisfaction.

Minho let out a defeated sigh and turned around to see the fabled Seol Yoon-A, affectionately called Sullyoon. He could tell why you were gushing over her. She wore a red dress with a small bow, had pretty doe eyes and was beautiful no doubt.

But nothing in Minho's head could compare to you.

"So," Sullyoon laughed sweetly, "She threatened you to be here too, huh?"

"Yep," responded Minho curtly and in defeat.

Sullyoon got up and made his way to him, arms snaking around his shoulder and for a terrifying moment, he didn't want her to stop. Not because he enjoyed it, but maybe because this would help him get over you, you who would never love him the way he loved you.

But then the scent of Sullyoon's vanilla perfume hit Minho and it was nothing like your fragrant lilac mist. It was nothing like you.

Minho gently moved Sullyoon's arms from they were and took a step back. Sullyoon raised an eyebrow and studied him. She then snorted and sat down on the bed again.

"Ah. So you are in love with her," she said matter-of-factly.

"I-what-," Minho stuttered, unable to figure out what to say to such a statement.

Sullyoon sighed and patted the space beside her. "It's obvious you know. All men are stupid." And under her breath she added, "Thank god I also like girls. Much more mature."

Minho sat down, Sullyoon gave him a knowing look, and he told her everything. He told her about how he met you, how he realized he loved you and how he thought you might like him too. He told her about your favorite color, the way you always wore two extra rubber bands because one always seemed to break.

When he was done with it all, Sullyoon gave him a comforting pat and said, "You are in some deep shit, Minho."

"How would you know?" he scoffed.

Sullyoon shit eating grin turned sad, "Because I went through the same thing you did."

This time it was Minho's turn to survey Sullyoon, to try and understand what she went through that made her so intimately understand his situation.

"I was hopelessly in love with my best friend, but I didn't tell him for two years. When I finally did, I found out that even though he didn't completely feel the same, he was willing to give it a try. Loving him was the best year of my life. And he fell in love with me too. We were attached at the hip and I will never forgive myself for what happened."

Minho had a bad feeling that this story did not end happily. He swallowed a lump in his throat and asked, "What happened?"

Sullyoon had a smile on her face and tears in her eyes. "I held Felix as he died."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

year four.

[5:23 PM]

sullyoonie-tunes: so. today's the day, huh.

[5:24 PM]

You (Minho): today's the day.

[5:27 PM]

sullyoonie-tunes: MY BROTHER IS NO LONGER BITCHLESS

sullyoonie-tunes: not insinutating that y/n is a bitch of course

sullyoonie-tunes: YOU'RE the bitch

sullyoonie-tunes: she's an angel

sullyoonie-tunes: pls dont kill me

[5:30 PM]

You (Minho): are you done???

"Hey, who are you texting?" you asked Minho, settling down next to him on his bed.

"Ah, Sullyoon," he responded.

You smiled at him, pulling his blanket over the two of you and weaving your fingers through his hair. "When did you two become so close?"

Minho snorted, "When I got her a girlfriend." And now she's getting me one, he left unsaid.

"Oh, I adore Haewon," you smiled, setting your head on Minho's shoulder.

Minho decided that if he was ever going to confess his feelings to you, it would be during Chrismas. You loved Christmas, he loved you, and what would be more perfect than that?

Over the course of the last year, you and Minho were offered permanent jobs at the company you were interning at. Minho had officially moved in with you, and had learned to live with the fact that he could only love you from a distance, completely unaware of the turmoil you felt about your feelings towards him.

Minho had also developed a strong friendship with Sullyoon, who he truly saw as a younger sister. He helped her meet Haewon, and she helped him dissect every move you made to glean information that would support Minho's hypothesis of you maybe liking him back.

Minho had expected his love for you to pass, to ebb and flow away with the changing seasons.

Instead, it blossomed into something he would forever live with. Minho was madly in love. To him, you weren't just a love.

To him, you hung to moon, stitched the stars onto the sky and gave the cosmos every diaphanous colour it glowed with.

The doorbell rang five times in rapid succession and Minho leapt off his bed. "He's mine," he laughed, watching you struggle to get out of the cocoon you had made for yourself in his blanket.

"Well he clearly loves me more," you retorted, catching up to Minho at the door who, ever the gentleman, opened for you.

Chaeyeon smiled at you and behind her was a beaming Changbin. In his hands he held two things. A large bag in one hand and a carrier in the other. You and Minho urgently ushered the two inside and Chaeyeon placed a gift on the kitchen counter.

"Meet Seo Sun-woo," said Changbin proudly, and you and Minho gushed over Changbin and Chaeyeon's two month old son.

Ever since Chaeyeon had announced she was pregnant after her and Changbin's wedding, a sense of reality dawned upon your entire friend group. You had to grow up, become mature and fend for yourself in this world. Gone were the days when you and Minho would party hop playing beer pong. Now, you both stayed up talking about your future and you hopes, dreams and aspiraitons.

You dreamt of making a name for yourself in the tech world, starting a company that would teach disabled kids coding and give them opportunities to work for gigantic tech companies. Minho dreamt of you and with that came the silent promise of adopting your dreams as his own.

"I want kids some day," you said as you held baby Seo in your lap. This year's party was quieter, much more secluded and only had your direct close circle of friends, "with Chris and Lisa expecting twins and even Hyunjin adopting a dog for Karina, it feels like everyone is growing their family."

Minho pouted. "Am I not growing your family?"

You laughed, "Minho, you've always been home."

Minho gave you quite possibly the widest smile until he heard a tin can fall to the ground and a set of four groans erupt from your bedroom. "Look, we're practically raising Jisung, Felix, Seungmin and Jeongin."

You sighed in affectionate annoyance. "In between them and SonnieDoongieDori, I think that's enough family expansion for now."

Another crash came from your room and you both shared a knowing look. You either got the situation under control, or something broke.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

"I feel dead," you moaned, falling onto the sofa after cleaning up well into the night. The party had ended with Lisa unceremoniously vomiting on the floor and everyone ushering her out and enquiring about her state of well-being.

"Let's go, I have one last present for you," Minho coaxed you out of your shell in the sofa, his own heart pounding incessantly.

"Just give it tomo-"

"I'll dump the litter box in your-"

"Fine," you groaned, "Ten minutes and then we start our Home Alone movie marathon."

Minho nodded, to anxious to argue, "Deal."

Both of you stepped out onto the balcony where the cold nipped at you. There were still couples strolling outside and children hurling snowballs at each other. Christmas lights covered virtually every apartment in sight, red and green lights glowing in tandem.

"What is it?" you asked, looking around him for maybe a box or a letter. Minho stood frozen in the anxiety of every way you could say no to him, until you nudged him back to reality.

Minho coughed. "It's not so much a thing and more of something I have to say."

"Oh."

Minho looked at the way your hair curled at the bottom, grazing the hem of your sweatpants. He looked at your jackets' cuffs, stained with chocolate when you both were lathering Nutella over a layer of cook. He looked at your face, full of beauty and kindness.

But mostly he looked at you, strong, gracious, and lover of Christmas.

Minho thought that confessing his love for you would be the hardest thing he's ever done. Instead, it came as naturally to him as snow falling on the streets of Seoul in winter.

"I love you," the confession fell from his lips. "I have loved you for four years and I will spend the rest of my life loving you if you'll let me. You understand me on a level that nobody else ever has. I love you Y/N, and I have never known anything else the way I have known that."

A song started in him that time, a scratchy beat of hopeful terror that started from his toes and came up to his heart.

"Plus, the cats won't accept anyone apart from you as their mother, and that includes Lix," he added for good measure.

You stared at him for what seemed like an eternity, and Minho felt his initial confidence wearing off. That was until you launched yourself into his arms, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. Minho wrapped his arms around you, a sigh of relief escaping form his mouth.

"You don't know how long I've loved you for," you mumbled into his sweater.

And everything came to a beautiful crescendo when the nights Minho spent tossing and turning, the four years of assumed unrequited agony did not go in van because you loved him.

You loved him.

That night, Minho held you tightly in his arms underneath the blanket and was at a complete disregard of Kevin's plight in New York. He pressed kisses to every exposed surface he could find, your giggles louder than the shenanigans the character was playing on TV.

"This festival is my whole world," you told him with love brimming in his eyes.

Minho then finally told you three words that he believed summed up everything he felt towards you for the entire time he's ever known you.

"And you're mine."

please reblog and comment if you liked this fic! it means everything to me and I love reading your thoughts <3

: ̗̀➛ current permanent taglist:

: ̗̀➛ current permanent taglist:

@linoalwaysknows @moon0fthenight @hyulino @palindrome969

@squishybinnieee @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @stayinlimbo @farfromsugafanfic

@hongshuaknow @cookiesandcreammy @kayleefriedchicken @toomanybiasz

@seooj444 @soaplickerrr @nappynapnaps @lina-linny @yrqrnc

@calypsohan @minluvly

also tagging @stayblrofficial for their christmas writing event!

[velvetures]

Omg I love your stories so much especially the cod ones 😍😍😍 could you please write a ghost x reader oneshot where the reader maybe gets shot taking a bullet meant for him and maybe they are in an established relationship please with a happy ending

Ignoring Orders & Accepting Lead

A/N: I loved this req. and I hope you're okay with the direction I took this in. I'm trying to get the other asks I've been sent finished in a somewhat timely manner... haha! Honestly, I never thought anyone would enjoy my writing as much as all of you have. <3 Summary: Established relationships mean occasional arguments... You and Ghost have one before a mission. And the make-up conversation is a little less than standard for most couples. T/W: Canonical Violence, guns, knives, Blood, Death (non-major characters), severe injuries, tension, hurt/comfort, HAPPY ENDING, Ghost being a bit overprotective, Reader being a smartass, not proofread.

Arguments with Ghost happened a lot more frequently than anyone would ever suspect. While he liked to stay quiet when the opportunity arose, it was also know that if you could avoid a conflict, you would just to make sure the temperature of the situation didn’t rise too high. As a pair, it made you great operators, just for the skill-set you each had as well as the predisposition to get things done quickly, and quietly. As for being in a relationship, your character’s held zero influence on the way that you cared about each other of how that would display itself during moments of tension or disagreement. Especially in moments during missions where things weren’t going to plan, and your ideas severely countered Ghost’s.

One of those fights had occurred right before you’d been dropped into a very small town outside of Culiacán, Sinaloa. At HQ, Price was splitting everyone up for their distinct purposes, and you’d been immediately assigned with Ghost for an infil job. One requiring both of you to get in and get out of the well-known cartel stronghold without getting caught or being killed. Naturally you accepted the task without so much as flinching, whereas Ghost didn’t have such an easygoing attitude about it.

He was fucking furious.

First he tried threatening Price, demanding that you not be listed for that and go with Soap for the much less risky job of tracking down a small-time dealer who’d been listed as having information valuable to the task force. Price wasn’t stupid enough to not recognize where Ghost’s rage was coming from, and just simply said that if you wanted the job, there was nothing he could do about it since you’d already read the briefing and knew the entire plan just as well as anyone else. It wasn’t what he wanted to hear from the Captain, and that made things all the worse for you when you said you weren’t going to let him go in alone.

One of the worst fights you’d ever had with Ghost since your partnership became a fully-fledged romance happened right off the helipad being fueled-up for your departure. God it was miserable, and it hurt every ounce of you to have to defend yourself over the one thing that you were certain you could do. Your job. Understanding Ghost’s protective instinct was one thing, but there had to be a line drawn where him throwing his weight and rank around to limit your exposure to risk couldn’t be done anymore.

He’d been totally insensitive to your side of the story, and was obstinate that if you got on the helo, he’d not do a damn thing to keep you safe once you got to Culiacán. Merely to prove the bullshit point that you couldn’t to the job without him. That statement alone had you strapping into your flight harness quicker than Ghost could utter ‘jesus christ’ under his breath. Totally stonewalling you for the entire flight and practically acting like you didn’t even exist. Hell, he wouldn’t even go over the mission plan as was typical, leaving you fully to fend for yourself and follow his lead without even a hand signal to lead you through it.

Everything on entry went smoothly.

No guards were stationed in the underground sewer tunneling, leaving you very dry and unhindered on the half-mile walk from your drop-point to the access ladder leading up into the basement of a massive chapel-turned-base of operations. Whether or not you’d been keeping up or not didn’t appear to phase Ghost in the slightest, and he continued on and up into the basements without so much as glancing your way. You were quickly losing your patience, and getting than much more hurt with hoe easily he could turn off the affection and care that he always had for you. Sure, he wasn’t the coddling type, but you’d never wanted that from him; but this was a whole different level of coldness.

Inside the basement there were stockpiles of cocaine, pre-packed on shipping crates with a printed docket of everything contained on each. Just seeing that much shit all in one room made your head spin. It was one thing knowing it existed, and understanding that tons of it were being shipped all over the world, but actually being in a room surrounded by it from almost floor-to-ceiling was quite overwhelming. And Ghost’s own utterance of the sheer volume confirmed that it wasn’t just your own imagination leading you to think this was way too fucking much to handle. Bad part was, you couldn’t touch any of the shit or destroy it, and were solely on the objective of cloning their hard drives and bringing them back for examination.

Clearing stairwell after stairwell, and only needing to dispose of two guards -quick work with a sharp knife- you’d been able to access their massive data stores collected in what appeared to be nothing more than a personal server farm. Kept extremely cold for the benefit of the rows of towers, you’d been given the small cloning chip needed to transmit data back to HQ. But you needed a window of up to fifteen minutes to ensure everything was fully copied. You -and Ghost- both knew that fifteen minutes was far too long to just stand around with your thumbs up your asses and just hope that no one wondered why the two guards you’d shanked hadn’t checked in, or come to make a round inside the server room.

Ghost very instinctively covered the access door to the room, not even bothering to demand you give him the chip or take care of the data itself. A small reminder that he wasn’t totally untrusting of your skills, but still not large enough of a show that made you feel any less miserable about how your relationship was quite strained at the moment, all of something as small as a fifteen minute window of gathering information. By some miracle, you watched the progress on a small tablet linked to the chip and HQ’s data stores, watching it hit one-hundred percent in just under eight minutes. Perfect. It couldn’t go much smoother than that.

You were tapping Ghost on the shoulder, and giving a small thumbs-up just as the sounds of footsteps running up the stairwell outside began echoing. More than just one or two. It was actually a lot more than you even had the ammunition to handle, considering the job was deemed covert. Neither you or Ghost went without some protection… but you’d been packed out a lot lighter than normal. Right away he was stepping back from the door and checking his watch with a stern look in his eyes. One you recognized as realization that you’d have to fight your way out of this. Ugly, bloody, and violent.

Exactly what he didn’t want in the fuckin’ first place.

Ghost was inside of his own mind, trying to balance out the fear of you being in the middle of a cartel fire-fight and the rage he still felt when you just wouldn’t fucking listen to him right from the beginning. He knew what cartels did to women, and a pretty one like you wouldn’t have the mercy of just being killed. No. They’d fucking torture and toy with you until there wasn’t anything human left inside of you. That’s why he’d been so goddamn adamant that you stay behind for this one.

The data you’d copied over was bullshit compared to you living and breathing for another day. And Ghost couldn’t stand to think he’d walked you right into this place without at least trying to show you that he cared enough to see you live. Dying wasn’t a fear of his, but there was nothing he dreaded more than the mental image of you bleeding out in his arms all because of his own fucking mistakes.

Yet, here he stood. Having to make the decision on what to do or how to get you both out of here alive if he could even manage that in the first place. Part of him was already preparing to let them take him and give you enough time to slip away. You were fast enough. Small, so they’d have a far harder time picking you out in a crowd. But if he’s assumptions were correct, the tunnels would still be clear.

He gave you one last look, and grabbed hold of your vest to pull you behind him; Hearing the footsteps of more than six men filling into the large room outside of the server farm. Some barking orders to check down the hall, while others were meant to stay posted at the stairs to block off anyone flushed out. Ghost felt his own body starting to get cold. So desensitized to the violence he was already prepping himself to commit that if it wasn’t for you being there, he’d had already burst through the door and met them head on.

“Fuckin’. Listen,” He snapped as quietly as possible. Your ears perked up, happy to have just heard him speak, even if he sounded downright vicious. Your little hand tapping at his ribs as confirmation you were paying attention sent a shiver up his back.

“Don’t engage unless they’re right in your way. Take the tunnels out, I’ll be right behind you.” He barked out the orders under his breath.

Ghost couldn’t help but feel your hand fist into the material of his shirt. You didn’t like that one bit, and he didn’t need to see your face to know better. Because for whatever reason, you had it in your thick little head that he needed protecting as much as you did. Like it was your job to make sure he didn’t get hurt. Cute and a little bit amusing, Ghost hadn’t the slightest clue where you got the idea from or why it was such a massive trigger for him to challenge it. But right now, there was no fighting about it. He’d not take no for an answer, and when you didn’t give a confirmation right away, he growled in impatience.

Reluctantly, you gave it with a small tap rubbing your thumb over his hip bone.

One minute, Ghost was pushing open the door and spotting only three men within direct threat distance and seeing only one man standing at the top of the stairs. A split second of decision had him throwing two knives, and charging at the third to ensure that you’d only have to take care of the one remaining. He sunk a third knife in, feeling the man sink to his knees and drop to the floor, retrieving two of his blades before turning around right as the sound of a pistol registered. Ghost realized his fatal error in the squeeze of a trigger too late.

Only you saw what was coming, and Ghost watched you crumple to the floor between the shooter and himself; Stopping the man from shooting him in the back, but catching you somewhere of your front that residual splatter from the rained over his mask and tac vest. Everything around Ghost slowed, nearing an entire halt to the earth as you fell limply to the ground. Not even moving to try and cover your wound or catch yourself from the fall to the marble floor. Nightmares couldn’t compare to the sight of you crumpled in a heap of gear and bulky material after watching you purposefully allow your life to be traded for his.

The shooter wasn’t lucky enough to squeeze the trigger again for the knife that embedded itself in his forehead. Retribution. Quick but not as instantaneous as it would’ve been with a gun of his own. He was forced to see his own death approach with the snapped rotation of a throwing knife Ghost had sharpened days ago. He wanted to it last longer… make the bastard pay for it. Torture him for as long as his body could take, then give him just enough time to recover and start all over again.

But you needed him… Fuck. He needed you.

On the ground, you knew you’d taken a shot. But the adrenaline and immediate blow of it had you frozen on the floor. You couldn’t really tell where you’d been shot, or how bad the damage was. Truthfully you’d never experience it, and while many of the stories you heard over the years of your service, nothing they ever did to explain it was touching the utter fire radiating through your body. What you did know was that you were bleeding, and the shot had missed your tac vest; A small stream of blood was rolling through the grout lines in the floor, staining the white marble a sickening color.

Seeing Ghost on a knee in front of you, eyes wide and searching over your face was the next hazy image you recognized. His mask was shifting with the motion of him talking, but your ears were ringing. A pitchy and high whine blocked any other sound, even Ghost’s voice which you’d always been so very keen on paying close attention to. You felt awful. Putting him through this after you’d literally just had the fight about you getting hurt. Guilt flooded your limited emotional capacity, and as Ghost readjusted to pick you up, you felt tears rolling down your face.

You’d not had a single second to react to the fourth man in the room, him having the jump on visualizing Ghost facing the other three. It made him a vulnerable target. And in the split second you had to do something, you’d jumped in the way. Laying out totally flat to use your entire body to shield his. Hoping to god luck was on your side. At this point, hanging over Ghost’s shoulder limply as he rushed down the stairs on his way towards the basement, you weren’t sure if luck was on your side or not.

Thankfully, your hearing was slowly coming back in certain frequencies.

Sounds of gunfire and sirens blaring from the street level let you know that everyone within a few miles of the cathedral would be on the lookout for intruders. With all of the people who’d seen you, killed, no descriptions could be sent out or blared to citizens under control of the cartel. It didn’t help that Ghost was the largest man in the city who just happened to have on a skull mask and carrying a woman leaving behind noticeable drips of blood as a gruesome kind of trail to follow.

“C’mon baby, answer me!” Ghost panting yell finally registered, and you were able to manage a weak pat on his lower back. You felt his hand squeeze the back of your thigh for a moment before his pace slowed from a quick run to almost a crawl.

“We got company…”

There hadn’t been any men in the tunnel. But now that Ghost was less than fifty yards from their extraction point with a “medical” heli waiting for their return; three men were posted at the gated slope leading up to the hillside entry. The Lieutenant could feel your blood soaking into his shirt, wetting his shoulder. A bad reminder that you needed to get the fuck out of here right now. But he couldn’t get rid of those fuckers unless he put you down.

He squeezed at your thigh again to get your attention.

“I need - need to -fuck- set you down…” Saying those words utterly destroyed Ghost. You were the only thing he cared about right now, but the longer he put this off, the risk of you dying loomed closer.

“Need ya t’stay right here… okay? Don’t come out…”

Carefully you felt him settle you behind a large sewage drain pipe connecting from the street into the small walkway. Easing your back against the curved brick wall and once again taking a very hard look at you. This time, he could see where the bullet had just missed the edge of your tac vest, entering through the ripped hole in your shirt just below your collarbone. Every hopeful fiber in Ghost wanted to believe it wouldn’t be non-lethal. But if it shattered your collarbone, the bullet fractured and clipped a vein or small artery, there was plenty to be concerned about.

He would’ve packed the would just to stave off the blood flow. But he didn’t have the luxury of time. And whether or not Ghost would ever admit it to himself, repeatedly shoving his finger into your wound would render him down to a shell of a man. He couldn’t hurt you. Fuck, he couldn’t hurt you.

“Stay here… I’ll be right back.” He whispered against your forehead, pressing his masked mouth to your forehead.

You leaned into him, hearing his words and consciously noticing just how difficult it was to understand the words after hearing them. Almost like you couldn’t natively speak english and the meanings just weren’t instinctual anymore. God it took everything to comprehend that he was planning to clear the rest of the way, leaving you here. Eyes trailing after him sluggishly, you fought with your own arms to try and scoot back just a little further to peek between the large pipe you were leaning against to see if you could spot Ghost or the targets.

Being told to stay was always a difficult order for you. Even if you weren’t shot and struggling to manage simple bodily functions. Surprisingly, you were able to see the shadowed figured standing guard right at the gates you’d come through, holding rifles and totally unaware of Ghost lurking within such easy range. You wondered why he didn’t just shoot them, and get this over with.

Why he needed stealth when the entire city was looking for you didn’t make a lot of sense in your mind. Until you saw five more men walk down to join the others. With one cut of your eyes to look at Ghost, you realized he had anticipated more and planned of making quick work. It’d been a long time since you watched him work alone. Nearly two years. Attempting to shift your shoulder it rocked your entire system. Biting your jaw to keep from making noise, you tried focusing through the tears in your eyes as the only man who held the key to not only your life, but your heart in his fist.

Ghost kept reevaluating his odds with each step closer. Feeling distracted in the worst way with the guilt of leaving you unprotected, and in no position to defend yourself in the case that he wasn’t able to take all of these men alone. Those odds -either realistic or narcissistic confidence- didn’t phase the Lieutenant in the slightest. He was fueled with rage. And while these bastards hadn’t done anything, just being in his path was a death sentence.

The fight started smoothy and efficiently, taking out the largest of the men and using his half-dead form as enough of a shield to eliminate the threat of three 12.7x99mm wielders, too surprised to shoot off five rounds. Another three surrounded him with nothing more than machetes swiping through the air with near misses. One smooth draw of his own pistol dropped two men, and when Ghost turned around to face the third the butt of a shotgun smacked across his vision, dropping him to his knees and hearing his pistol slide across the floor out of reach.

He hauled himself to a knee, watching the man throw the empty shotgun away and approach with a knife, glinting in the sunlight just on the outside of the tunnel. Ghost could actually hear the rotor blades of the helicopter cranking up, set into motion by the small tracker in his belt giving the pilot a comm-less tip off. He’d have to fight this hand-to-hand, and while he didn’t feel the least bit tired, Ghost knew a long fight only risked you further. And fuck if making you wait didn’t make his hair stand up on edge. Even in your state, he knew better than to think you wouldn’t start getting worried in the next couple of minutes.

His opponent took the first blow and used the hilt of his large blade to connect fully with Ghost’s jaw. A heavy crack sounded, but the Lieutenant merely flinched; Throwing his own weight on the weight-matched man, and there ensued a grappling match that risked deadly knife wounds being grazed against straining forearms and a battle of wills that totally opposed one another on every basis… Save for being the last man standing. For the second time in a single mission, Ghost found himself at the razor’s edge of a knife pressing against his throat and no really foolproof tactic of getting out of it.

“Seré el que te mate, fantasma..” The man breathed hotly against Ghost’s ear, jerking the knife closer and fighting the sheer strength in the Lieutenant’s arm. “Colgaré tu cabeza en mi pared, bastardo.”

Ghost fumbled with his other hand under the pressure on his throat began taking away the normal dexterity he functioned with; Trying to find a knife on his belt, or any kind of weapon at this point. Only all of them had been embedded in the dead bodies scattered around them. It had been a bad decision to listen to Price when he said to pack lightly. It would be the end of him.

Simon Riley didn’t show himself often during missions. Always locked away in the recesses of Ghost’s mind, quietly biding his time until there was the few-and-far-between moment for him to appear for a few moments. Typically in the darkness of your shared bedroom with your face pressed between his shoulder blades and your little arm wrapped around his waist.

Simon loved feeling your hand against his belly, twitching your fingers in your sleep and reminding him just how soft and loving you were; Happy to hold his hand tightly in the middle of unconsciousness just like you did when awake. Ghost did everything he could to protect Simon from anyone and anything that could hurt the other half of himself. But hearing another pistol register loudly in the tunnel, echoing back and forth for almost a whole minute; Ghost found himself losing control to Simon.

He felt the man above him slump in dead weight against his back. Muscles slack and the knife held to his throat clanged to the concrete. Looking in the direction of the shot, whatever protective grasp Ghost had on himself utterly dissolved. You’d managed to lay yourself out on the floor, hardly propped up on one elbow with your smoking pistol shaking in your hands. Tears spilled over your cheeks and with each second that passed, he could visualize the pain you felt from such a rough kickback in how you abruptly dropped the pistol in front of you and collapsed flat on the floor with a low groan.

He couldn’t have moved to your side faster.

Immediately picking you up again and making the very short but tense run back to the heli; all the while the pilot was looking between his instruments and the sight of Ghost holding you close to his chest in the floor.

“No one… threatens… to kill you… but me…” You mutter pained, bearing a muddled smile up at Ghost.

Unbelievable… Ghost hardened his stare, putting pressure to your wound and watching in quiet grief that he needed to cause you pain.

“Good shot… did good baby…,” He whispered back weakly, burying his face in your neck and squeezing you against him. Desperate to get you home and safe.

“Gonna ignore how you refused to follow a superior’s orders three times…” He added stiffly, feeling you twitch when a spasm in your shoulder seized. You just bit out another pained noise, coughing a bit with the dust being kicked up from the helicopter lifting off.

The look you gave him couldn’t be seen as anything other than pure, innocent, and unflinching devotion. It nearly ripped Ghost out of the body you clung to, leaving Simon bracing you against his chest as the pilot at the front started giving information to the rest of the squad about fifty miles away at a safe house. Much too long for the Lieutenant’s liking. But close enough that he could get you to his squad and they could ensure you didn’t leave him.

He couldn’t stand losing you, and they’d make sure you didn’t.

“Simon,” Sweet and weak, your hand cups his cheek as you bring him out of an initial trigger. “M’not leaving you anytime soon. Love you too much.” Your eyes close as your head leans agains him trustingly.

His chest crumbled in on itself. “Love you too, baby… I love you too.”

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[olderthannetfic]

I finally read Boyfriends… and that’s IT?? Thats what made so many people hound the creator with all sorts “-ising” verbiage? It’s just like a cute, romcom strip comic of four guys in love. Like, the author still got shit on even now over the comic and that made me wonder, like, ‘why do people hate it so much?’

Despite already being on his side (because, you know, harassment is bad), I only binge read it recently and I like it quite a lot.

Even the whole “choccy milk” thing, which caused a lot of noise bc ofc that’s the perfect thing to zero in on when you want to label a webcomic as ‘fetishising’, made sense in the context of the story.

I read it expecting, idk, a wecuwwing chawactew speakinh wike this fow the whowe stowy. Which would be a choice that I would understand would turn many readers away, although that still doesn’t make the harassment okay.

But NO. It’s just the perfectionist student archetype being overwhelmed one day and cuddling with his boyfriend, acting cute and spoiled.

that’s just basic slice-of-life romance shit.

--

Yup.

The actual crimes here are 1. being popular and 2. existing while trans.

That's really it. Yes, there are some details that we can go into (using the n-word as a 14-year-old non-native English speaker, being told off, and apologizing, etc.), but at its heart this is some tall poppy syndrome jealousy bullshit and not much else.

[zero-braincells-left]

we fell in love in october - girl in red

i feel legally obligated to put this in my gf playlist (which only has 1 other song in it rn) cause. gay. (wlw way even though whatever the hell I am certainly isn’t cis) and. started dating on Halloween. that?? yeah

[sherewrytes]

𝔹𝕣𝕠𝕜𝕖𝕟 ℙ𝕚𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕤, ℝ𝕪𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕟 𝕊𝕦𝕜𝕦𝕟𝕒 3

↳ Sukuna x f! black reader

Summary: After the death of his grandfather, Sukuna Ryomen is left to shoulder the weight of his family, caring for his younger brothers, Yuuji and Choso. As he withdraws into grief, his relationship with Y/N, his girlfriend of a year, begins to crumble. When Y/N discovers the truth about his grandfather’s passing during a heated argument, it leads to a painful breakup. Now, both are navigating life apart, but Sukuna’s heart aches for Y/N. Determined to win her back, he must confront his pain and find a way to break through the walls he’s built. Can he rekindle their love, or is it too late?

contents: heavy angst, modern au, 18+, smut, dark romance, drug use, talks of depression and similar topics. (a lil )

fic warnings. ooc, profanity, mental health issues, toxic relationships, cheating, explicit smut, serious drug use, mentions of depression + more to be updated as story progresses.

Please read with proper discretion. this is a work of fiction. all characters are written to portray roles that are necessary to the plot and are in no way a reflection of their canon counterparts.

Taglist: @for-hearthand-home @clp-84 @thelightknight21 @favvkiki 

if you wanna be added to the tag list comment

Fic Playlist

Song for this chapter: Happy Little Pill Troye Sivan

You can listen to the songs mentioned to the fic in order if you desire

Chapter Playlist

Masterlist

Previous

Chapter 3: Happy Little Pill

I finally made it home, my head still spinning from the earlier with yn…

Or is it the pills…or the weed…fuck weed brain is shit sometimes

 I yank the boxes out of the back seat before heading up to my apartment. When I step inside, the smell of pizza and the low hum of video game music hits me—Yuuji’s still awake, sitting with Choso and Toji, all of them glued to the screen, battling it out on Sparkling Zero, the latest Dragon Ball Z game. Toji just mutters, "Hey, you’re back," barely glancing away from the game.

I drop the boxes by the door with a loud thud, and that’s when everyone turns around, their eyes flicking from the boxes to me, waiting, maybe expecting something. The room falls into an uncomfortable silence, thick enough to choke on. Yuuji tosses the controller to Toji, then mumbles something about heading to bed.

But I’m already on edge, the tension buzzing under my skin like electricity. "It’s fine," I snap, waving a hand dismissively. "You don’t fucking listen anyway, so do whatever you want."

Choso stands up, his expression turning cold. “Don’t take your shit out on him,” he says, his voice steady but sharp enough to cut through the room.

I run a hand through my hair, feeling the heat of frustration bubbling up inside me. "I’m not taking anything out on him," I snap, my voice sharper than I intended. "Just tired of dealing with everyone's bullshit."

Toji rolls his eyes, casually leaning back on the couch, his gaze unfazed. "You’re the one who decided to get into it with Y/N, man. You think it’s easy for any of us to watch you self-destruct?"

I glare at him, anger flaring. "You don’t know shit, Toji. You think you understand what I’m going through?"

Choso shakes his head, shooting me a warning look. "Stop. Just stop. You’re being an asshole for no reason. You don’t have to take your problems out on us."

I scoff, the tension in the room thickening. "Whatever. Just mind your own business." I storm toward the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, desperately trying to cool down the fire inside me.

Toji follows, the sound of his footsteps echoing behind me. "Look, man, you’re not going to be able to keep pushing everyone away forever. Sooner or later, you’ll have to deal with this."

I slam the fridge door shut, turning to face him. "What do you want me to say? That she left me? That I can’t fix this?" The bitterness spills from my mouth, and I hate how raw my emotions feel.

Toji crosses his arms, his expression serious. "I just want you to stop acting like you’re fine when you’re clearly not. You think shutting everyone out is going to help? You need to talk to someone."

"And what? You think spilling my guts to you guys is going to solve anything?" I retort, clenching my fists. "You think I want pity?"

"It's not about pity, Sukuna!" Toji's voice raises slightly, frustration evident in his tone. "It’s about support. You need it, whether you want to admit it or not."

I open my mouth to fire back, but the weight of exhaustion settles over me like a heavy blanket. "I don’t want to talk," I finally say, my voice quieter. "I just want to be left alone."

"You’re not alone, man," Choso pipes in, his voice steady. "We’re here for you, whether you like it or not."

I feel the tightness in my chest ease ever so slightly at their words, but

 I can’t let them in. Not now. Not after everything.

I shake my head, turning away from them, focusing on the dull ache of my thoughts instead.

"Fine," I mutter, dragging my boxes back toward my room. "Just keep playing your game or whatever."

I hear Choso mutter something under his breath, but I don’t bother to listen. I slam my bedroom door shut behind me, the sound echoing in the small space.

As I drop the boxes on the floor, I feel the familiar sting of tears welling up in my eyes.

 I don’t want to feel this way; I don’t want to feel anything at all. 

I sink onto my bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to clear my mind.

You should’ve fought harder, 

I think bitterly.

You should’ve fought for her.

But I didn’t. I let my anger and my fear push her away, and now I’m left with nothing but regret and the suffocating silence of my empty apartment.

I sit alone in my room, and for once, I let the tears fall. I don’t even try to stop them.

(I really fucking lost her…) 

The thought hits like a punch to the gut. 

(Fuck…)

Anger flares up, raw and bitter, and I lash out,coming off the bed, I kick one of the boxes on the floor. I hear something shatter inside. My jaw clenches, but my hands shake as I grab the box cutter from my dresser and slice open the top.

Inside are picture frames, one after another, all of them hers—the memories she kept. The photos glare back at me like a silent accusation. Shots of us laughing together, looking like nothing else mattered. Pictures of me, her, and Grandpa, his arm slung around us both like he was holding everything together. Photos of us with Yuuji and Choso, a messy, mismatched family that once felt unbreakable.

My chest feels like it’s caving in, a hollow ache where there used to be something real. Each picture is a reminder, a slap to the face of everything I’ve fucked up, everything I’ve lost. And somehow, seeing them all here, in these broken frames… it just makes it hurt worse.

I can’t look at these. I shouldn’t have opened this box. The photos are mocking me, each one a reminder of what I had and lost. I feel the heat of tears streaming down my face as I sift through the frames, memories flooding back in vivid detail.

Look at how happy we were,

I think bitterly.

What a fucking joke.

I picked up a picture of us at the beach, laughing and splashing water at each other. Y/N’s smile is bright, her hair blowing in the wind, and I remember how carefree we felt that day. The sun had been shining, the waves crashing, and we’d promised to always have days like that.

And now look at us, 

I think, rage mixing with sorrow in my chest. I toss the frame back into the box, and it clatters against the others. I can’t handle it.

I grab another one, this one of me, Y/N, and Grandpa at a family barbecue. Grandpa had his arm slung over my shoulder, and Y/N stood beside me, her hand on my back. We’d both been laughing at one of Grandpa's terrible jokes. That was before everything went to shit.

God, I miss him.

I slam the box shut, my heart racing with anger and pain. I run my hand over my face, trying to wipe away the tears, but it only makes it worse. I can’t breathe, the weight of my emotions crashing down on me. I want to scream, to throw something, to destroy everything in this room.

What have I done?

I pull my phone out, staring at the screen. I know I shouldn’t reach out to her, but the urge is overwhelming. I need her. I need to fix this, but I don’t even know how. I type out a message and then delete it.

No, don’t do that.

But the next moment, I find myself typing again, my fingers trembling.

Y/N, I’m sorry. Can we talk?

I hit send before I can think twice. The seconds stretch into eternity as I wait for a reply, my heart pounding in my chest. I want to pace, to throw my phone against the wall, to do anything but sit here and wait.

I’m still staring at the screen when i just see

Seen.

Just like that, my heart sinks again. She saw it and chose not to respond.

What the hell am I doing?

I toss the phone onto my bed, unable to look at it anymore. I want to forget. I want to drown myself in anything other than this ache. I lean back against the wall, trying to shut out the world.

But the memories don’t stop. They flooded in—her laughter, the way she looked at me, how her presence made everything feel right, even when it was wrong. I bury my face in my hands, letting the sobs wrack my body.

I really fucked this up..

I reach out without thinking, fingers brushing over the blunt I left on my nightstand earlier. It’s routine by now—something to take the edge off, to quiet everything that won’t shut up inside my head. I flick the lighter, watching the flame for a second before lighting up and taking a slow drag, feeling the burn in my lungs, hoping it'll numb something deeper.

(Alexa, play "Can You Feel My Heart" by Bring Me The Horizon.)

The music fills the silence, heavy and raw, matching the ache that I can’t shake. I let the lyrics drown me, let the weed fog my mind. It’s not enough, but it’s all I have right now—anything to dull the pain clawing its way through me.

The familiar sounds of Bring Me The Horizon fill the room, the heavy beats pulsing through my chest like a heartbeat. I take a deep drag from the blunt, the smoke swirling in the dim light as I close my eyes.

“Can you feel my heart?” The lyrics resonate with my inner turmoil, echoing the chaos that has taken over my mind. I let the smoke seep deep into my lungs, holding it for a moment before exhaling slowly, watching as the gray haze drifts away.

Inhale.

 Exhale.

I lose myself in the music, letting it drown out the noise of my thoughts, the weight of my failures. I let the smoke fill my lungs and the melody fill my heart. Each note hits me like a wave, and for a brief moment, the pain feels a little lighter, the memories slightly dulled.

What the hell have I done?

 I can’t shake the feeling of regret. I never wanted to push Y/N away, but it feels like I’ve done exactly that. I take another drag, the high creeping in, the world blurring around the edges.

It shouldn’t have come to this. I think of her face, the way her eyes glistened with tears, how it tore me apart inside to see her hurt.

“Can you save my bastard soul? Will you wait for me? I'm sorry, brothers, so sorry, lover”

 I can’t help but think how fitting the lyrics are. The smoke wraps around me like a shroud, and I lean back against the wall in my room again, letting the music take over, hoping it will drown out the memories of Y/N’s hurt expression, the way she told me to leave.

As the chorus builds, I feel the weight of everything crashing down again, but I can't fight it anymore. I take another hit of the blunt, needing more, wanting to escape this reality even for a little while longer.

I don’t want to be broken anymore. I just want her back.

I let the sound wash over me, the pain turning into a low hum, my thoughts drifting into a haze. I lose track of time as the world around me fades, and all that’s left is the music and the smoke.

Just for tonight, I don’t want to think about anything else.

The lyrics echo in my mind, each line digging deeper into the pit in my stomach. I take another drag from the joint, the smoke swirling around me like my thoughts—chaotic and tangled.

“I hate being alone.” The words hit hard. I can feel the weight of the silence in my room, a stark contrast to the warmth of Y/N’s laughter, the softness of her touch. 

Why did I mess up such a good thing? 

I can’t stop replaying every moment, every fight, and every chance I had to fix things before they spiraled out of control.

“I long for that feeling to not feel at all.”

 I sigh, frustration bubbling up as I wipe my eyes. I should’ve known better than to think sleeping with her would make everything okay.

 It was reckless, and now I’m left with the consequences. I smack my forehead, as if punishing myself will somehow erase the pain.

“The higher I get, the lower I'll sink.”

 I can feel the truth in that line. Every hit I take feels like a momentary escape, but I know it won’t last. 

It’s a band-aid on a gaping wound, and soon enough, the high will wear off, leaving me with the raw, gnawing emptiness inside.

“I can't drown my demons, they know how to swim.” 

My heart aches with that realization. The weight of my past mistakes, the loss of my grandfather, and now the chasm Y/N has left behind—those demons are relentless. They’re always there, lurking just beneath the surface, waiting for me to slip.

“What comes after the numb feeling inside?”

 I wonder, my mind racing. Will I ever feel whole again? Or will this ache follow me, a constant reminder of what I’ve lost? What if I’m destined to feel this way for the rest of my life?

I take another deep drag, letting the smoke fill my lungs, hoping it will cloud my thoughts, if only for a moment longer. But deep down, I know the truth: this isn’t a solution. I can’t hide from my feelings, and I can’t run from the mess I’ve made.

“God, Y/N... what have I done?”

 The whisper escapes my lips, thick with regret. I set the joint down and lean back against the wall, letting the tears fall as I stare up at the ceiling, wishing for anything to take this pain away.

The tears keep coming, harder and faster. My throat tightens, and I start to cough, choking on the mix of tears and smoke.

Fuck this shit.

I force myself up out of my room and head back to the living room. Toji, Choso, and Yuuji are still there, glued to the game, the sounds of explosions and cheers filling the room. And then I see Gojo and Geto have shown up too, looking comfortable like they belong here.

Gojo glances over, his eyes narrowing with that same look he always gives me, and holds out a beer. I stare at it, then at him. The whole scene feels off, like I’m watching from somewhere else, too hollowed out to take any of it in.

Without a word, I turn around and head back to my room, shutting the door behind me.

 I can’t do this right now…

I could feel their eyes on me as I turned away, the laughter and chatter of the group fading into the background. It was like I was stuck in a bubble, cut off from the warmth and camaraderie that usually brought me solace. All I wanted was to escape the reality of my situation, to crawl into a hole and disappear for a while.

I pushed the door to my room shut, blocking out the noise. The moment the door clicked into place, the familiar weight of loneliness settled back in, heavier than before. I sank onto my bed, feeling the fabric dampen with the remnants of my tears. My mind was racing, a storm of guilt and despair swirling around, leaving no room for clarity.

“Fuck this shit,” 

I thought, frustration clawing at my insides. I couldn’t keep running from everything. I needed to face it, to confront the mess I had made with Y/N, with my own damn life.

But how? 

I felt trapped, like I was spiraling into a pit with no way out. I couldn’t even find the words to say what I felt, to explain how I’d let everything fall apart. I reached for my phone, hoping maybe texting Y/N again would help, but hesitated. What would I even say? I didn’t want to make things worse, to push her further away.

After a few moments of staring at the screen, I tossed the phone back onto the bed and buried my face in my hands. It was too much. I needed to think, to breathe, but the reality of my choices suffocated me.

I heard laughter from the living room, a sharp reminder of what I was missing out on. I thought about joining them again, about trying to act normal, but the idea felt like a façade. I was too far gone, too consumed by my own turmoil to pretend.

Instead, I lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, the silence around me becoming deafening. I replayed the last few hours in my mind, trying to pinpoint where it all went wrong. The arguments, the unspoken words, the way Y/N looked at me with hurt and confusion.

I couldn’t escape the haunting thought that I might never fix this. That I might lose her for good.

“What am I supposed to do now?”

 I whispered to the emptiness.

The music shifts to Breaking the Habit by Linkin Park, and I can’t help but let out a bitter laugh. 

(Really?) 

It’s like the universe is mocking me at this point.

I reached for my usual baggie on my night side grabbing a Xanax and popping one then grabbed the weed jar and some paper, rolling it up with shaky hands before lighting it. I inhale, hoping the smoke can fill the cracks that feel like they’re widening with every second. I get off the bed, shuffling over to another box I’d grabbed from Y/N’s place, sitting there like it’s holding all the shit I’m not ready to face.

The smoke curled around me as I took a deep drag from the blunt, trying to drown out the chaos in my head with every inhale, I opened another box, the familiar scent of her lingering, and there it was—the collection of gifts I’d once given her. Little tokens of affection that now felt like chains binding me to my regrets.

“For fuck's sake, Y/N,”

 I muttered to the empty room, frustration spilling over.

The lyrics from the song hit me hard, each line resonating with the turmoil I felt inside. I could see it all clearly now—the moments where I’d let my anger and pride get in the way, where I hadn’t fought for her when it mattered most. “I’ll never fight again. And this is how it ends.” Those words echoed in my mind, a haunting reminder of how I’d allowed things to deteriorate.

I pulled out a small barely gift-wrapped box, the paper slightly crumpled and torn but still intact. I remembered the day I’d given it to her—her face lighting up with that genuine smile that had always made my heart skip. 

This was supposed to mean something.

 I thought bitterly, a part of me wishing I could go back and change everything.

The song shifted again, the chorus cutting through my haze: 

“I don’t know how I got this way. I’ll never be alright.” 

And it wasn’t. Nothing felt right anymore. I was stuck in this cycle of self-loathing and despair, unable to find a way out.

I flicked the ash off the blunt, my mind racing. The gifts, the memories—they were reminders of what I’d lost. Of the love I’d let slip through my fingers.

“What have I done?” 

I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. The question hung in the air, unanswered, as I took another hit. I couldn’t stop thinking about Y/N, about the way she’d looked at me, the tears in her eyes when she shoved me away.

It felt like I was breaking apart, piece by piece, the walls closing in around me. I needed to fix this. I needed to fight for her, to tell her everything I felt, but I didn’t even know where to start. The thought of reaching out filled me with dread, but the idea of letting her go was even worse.

The low hum of Breaking the Habit by Linkin Park fades out, leaving an unsettling silence in the room. My mind is buzzing, the weight of the decision pressing down on me like a thousand bricks. I’ve had enough of this shit, this constant escape, this haze. I sit on the floor, my back against the bed, eyes glued to the messy room around me.

The space feels suffocating, but I can’t bring myself to leave it. The air is thick with the scent of smoke, remnants of the last few hours. My hands shake slightly, and I’m light-headed, the high of the weed still lingering, but I know I’ve pushed it too far. I get up slowly, like the effort of moving is too much, but I do it anyway. The room sways a little as I make my way to the dresser.

The song switches. Coming Down by The Weeknd starts to play, its haunting melody creeping in like a shadow. I barely register it at first.

All alone All Alone All Alone. 

The intro, a reminder of my current life

The lyrics, though—

"I always want you when I’m coming down"—hit me hard, and I freeze in place. That’s exactly how I feel. Always coming down, always needing something when it fades.

I shift through my drawer, fingers trembling as I search for something—anything—that’ll take the edge off, ease the tension I’ve let build up in my chest. I don’t know how many Xanax I’ve already had. Maybe two, maybe more. I can't remember. My brain is foggy, but I don’t care. I find it—morphine. A small pill, white and unassuming. It promises relief.

I sit back down, back on the floor in front of my bed. The ashtray beside me catches my eye. 

When the fuck did I put that there? 

My thoughts are clouded, slipping through my fingers like water, but I feel the weight of that question. I stare at it, trying to piece together the memory of how it ended up there. But there’s no answer. Only silence, only the constant beat of the song, and the gnawing need for something to make it all stop.

I pop the morphine in my mouth, feeling it dissolve on my tongue as I lay my head back against the bed, eyes closed. My body sighs, the tension slowly draining, but it’s never enough. It’s never enough to make the hurt go away.

I reach for my stash, hands moving instinctively, and the thought comes to me, sharp and clear: 

Fuck it, Imma roll up another. It's that kinda night.

The lyrics echo through my head: “I always want you when I'm coming down,” and I let the weight of them wash over me. Always coming down. Always wanting something to fill the emptiness.

I roll the joint with mechanical precision, the familiar motion grounding me. The smoke, when it hits my lungs, feels like a friend. A constant. But the moment is fleeting. Always is.

I light it up, the flame flickering before the burn settles, and I take a deep drag. The world narrows down to the haze around me, but I’m still here, still broken in pieces, caught between wanting more and wanting to forget.

The smoke curls in the air, the room hazy as I exhale, but it doesn’t ease the pressure in my chest. It never does. The thoughts of her—Y/N—are like ghosts, haunting every damn corner of my mind, even when I'm trying to escape. Her voice, those words, echoing louder now in the silence.

Just get out!

Her words. A slap to my face that cuts deeper than any high could numb.

For fuck’s sake,

 even when I’m high, she’s still here, still fucking plaguing me. I can’t seem to shake it, not the anger, not the guilt, not the damn regret. I run a hand through my hair, frustrated, my heart pounding against my ribs. I fucking hate you... I mutter under my breath, the words bitter, a mix of rage and something else I can’t quite place. Something raw, something painful.

I take another hit, the smoke filling my lungs, and with it, that familiar burn, but it doesn't settle the storm inside. It doesn’t make the pain stop. It just makes it quieter, for a moment.

I sit back against the bed, staring at the ceiling, mind swimming in the haze, but one thing is crystal clear.

I miss you.

The thought hits me like a punch in the gut. Hard.

I miss you in ways I can’t even describe. I miss the way your eyes would light up when you laughed, the way you’d challenge me, even when you knew it pissed me off. I miss the way you used to look at me like you understood, like I wasn’t some fucking mess that needed to be fixed.

I wish I could take it back. I wish I hadn’t pushed you away.

But then again, what the fuck do I know about love? What do I know about keeping something good when I’ve spent my life burning everything I touch?

The high isn’t enough to make me forget you. It never is. The lyrics to the song “I always want you when I’m coming down” echo in the back of my mind, but it's not just the high. It's not just the drugs. It's something deeper. Something that keeps pulling at me, even when I don’t want it to.

I can’t escape it. I can’t escape you.

I take another drag, holding it in longer this time, but it doesn’t clear my mind. Nothing ever does. It just makes everything sharper, makes your absence feel even more suffocating.

I reach for my phone, the motion almost automatic, like it’s the only thing I know how to do when I’m drowning in this mess. My fingers hover over the screen for a second, but I press your name anyway. My thumb shakes, the screen lighting up in the dim room as I wait for you to pick up. The song continues, the lyrics hitting me like a goddamn truth:

“Pick up your phone, I’m all alone.”

It’s pathetic, I know. But I just need to hear your voice, even if it’s just for a second. Just to tell myself it wasn’t all a lie. Just to hear you tell me I’m not completely fucked.

But you don’t answer.

The call goes straight to voicemail, and for a second, I just stare at the screen, the silence in the room louder than the song now. My chest tightens. My fingers twitch. I don’t know if it’s anger or something else that crawls up my throat, but I toss the phone back onto the bed like it’s a weight, not caring where it lands. The screen flickers off, and I’m left with nothing but the empty room and the echo of your absence.

Fuck.

I sit there for a moment, just staring at the phone like maybe it’ll ring, like maybe you’ll magically pick up and everything will go back to how it used to be. But it doesn’t. It won’t.

God, I fucking miss you.

Geto walked into my room, his footsteps barely making a sound as he took in the mess. The roach of the blunt was barely glowing, now just a burnt stub, and I had stuff scattered all over the floor—like pieces of my life falling apart in front of me. I was sitting there, slouched against the wall, the ashtray close by, high as hell, trying to ignore everything, but it wasn’t working.

He walked over and handed me a bottle of water, but I didn’t want it. I didn’t want him to look at me, didn’t want anyone to see this version of me. I slapped the bottle away, hearing the thud as it hit the floor, and mumbled, “I don’t need it. I’m fine…”

But I wasn’t. I couldn’t keep the tears from falling. They just kept coming, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe through it.

Geto’s eyes flickered with concern as he took in the scene before him—my room was a disaster, much like my mind. He crouched down, unbothered by the mess, and quietly pushed the bottle back toward me.

“Drink it,” he said softly, his voice steady. “You’re not fine, Sukuna.”

I shook my head, a mix of anger and sadness bubbling inside me. “I said I don’t need it!” I snapped, the words coming out harsher than I intended. But the truth was, I felt anything but fine. The grief was suffocating, a thick fog that clouded my thoughts, and I could feel the tears threatening to spill over again.

“Gran... fuck man, why me?”

 I choked out, my voice cracking as I buried my face in my hands. It felt like I was falling apart, and I didn’t know how to put myself back together.

Geto remained quiet, letting me vent, and I appreciated that. It was rare to find someone willing to sit in the dark with me, someone who didn’t try to fix me but simply allowed me to feel my pain. After a moment, he spoke again, his tone softer.

“You’re not alone in this, you know.”

I scoffed, bitterness creeping into my voice. “It sure as hell feels like it.”

He sighed, moving closer and placing a hand on my shoulder. “You’ve got us. You’ve got me. But you have to let us in. You can’t keep pushing everyone away.”

I lifted my head, meeting his gaze, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of understanding in his eyes. “How can you say that? Look at me!” I gestured around the room, the chaos reflecting the turmoil inside me. “I’m a fucking mess.”

“And that’s okay,” he replied firmly. “We all have our demons. You don’t have to face yours alone.”

His words hung in the air, and I felt a twinge of hope. Maybe I didn’t have to do this by myself. Maybe I could lean on someone for once instead of pretending to be strong all the time.

I took a deep breath, the air catching in my throat. “I don’t want to lose her, Geto.”

He nodded slowly, the gravity of my words settling between us. “Then fight for her. But first, you have to fight for yourself.”

I looked down, my heart racing at the thought. “What if I’ve already lost her?”

“Then you fight harder,” he said, squeezing my shoulder. “You show her that you’re worth it. That you can be better. That you want to be better.”

I stared at the floor, uncertainty swirling in my chest. It was terrifying to think about confronting Y/N again, especially after everything that had happened. But maybe Geto was right. Maybe I needed to show her that I could change, that I could be the person she needed.

I picked up the water bottle, my fingers trembling slightly as I opened it and took a sip. The cool liquid felt refreshing against my dry throat. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“You can,” Geto insisted, his voice steady. “Just take it one step at a time. Talk to her. Tell her everything. Just be honest.”

I nodded, the thought of being vulnerable both terrifying and exhilarating. “Okay. I’ll try.”

Geto smiled, his expression easing the tightness in my chest just a little. “That’s all I’m asking. Just don’t give up on her or yourself.”

As he stood up, heading to the door, I felt a flicker of determination ignite within me. It wouldn’t be easy but I think I can try

Maybe not I took another swig from the bottle, letting the cool water wash away some of the pain. I pushed myself to my feet, but as soon as I stood, a wave of dizziness washed over me. My vision blurred, and before I could react, my legs buckled beneath me. I hit the floor hard, the world spinning out of control as everything faded to black.

In that moment, all the pain, the grief, the memories—everything that had been weighing me down—vanished into the darkness, leaving me with nothing but silence.

[wizardpink]

Hi! Random question, but do you think the show will have Daniel call Armand "boss" now that the Maître thing happened? I know it's very prevalent in the books, but it might have different and/or interesting Implications™ in the show.

This question reminded me of one of my favorite episodes of the It's Always Sunny podcast. Stay with me here because we are going on a journey.

If there's any journalist in the world, living right now, who doesn't have a boss, it's Daniel Molloy.

There was a post recently that said something about how the point in the story where the timeline shifts the most dramatically from the books to the show is in the early 80s, when Armand DOESN'T turn Daniel into a vampire. I think that is a major part of why the Devil's Minion storyline in the show scared and angered so many fans in the finale. It's so different from the story we fell in love with! But we were so focused on Armand being different (possibly turning Daniel out of spite) that we forgot that Daniel is the one who is really different, in a really genius and wonderful departure from the books.

In the books we know human Daniel primarily as a man in his early 20s through his early 30s, but who he is in his early 30s is extremely heavily influenced by all the things that happened to him in that previous decade. Meeting Louis, meeting Armand, being pursued by Armand, and finally becoming Armand's lover.

But show Daniel had a great big reset button pressed on his life either at the end of the interview or at the end of his and Armand's romance, and he got to experience a life that book Daniel never did, and as a result it shaped him into a man that I think book Daniel always would have become, until he got derailed. And it's fascinating how BOTH paths make perfect sense even though they start at the same pivotal point!

Book Daniel meets vampires and then immediately is sucked into their world permanently. It becomes his realm as well. And in that realm are hierarchies and power dynamics that he has to exist within. He becomes subservient in ways to Armand, to Marius, etc etc. I could go on but you know what I mean.

Show Daniel however! Show Daniel meets vampires and gets pushed OUT of their world back into the world of humanity. And yes, in that realm are hierarchies and power dynamics that he has to exist within. But they're upheld by human beings! People who are no better than Daniel himself, and certainly no more frightening than the shit he's already been through whether he can remember it or not. Show Daniel pursues any story, any lead he wants no matter how dangerous or powerful the subject matter may be. He writes what he wants when he wants, and it works because he's fucking good at it. And it doesn't always work out for him! He says he's been fired and rehired, he's been nearly killed when an interview subject gets skittish or tired of his bullshit. But the point is, he went out and he made his own damn rules. He's brash and opinionated and has zero filter. He'll say whatever he wants to anyone, demand answers and truth from anyone. And no one is gonna tell him he can't. They're gonna have to drag him out of here or kill him to shut him up.

Armand and Daniel's maker/fledgling, devil/minion dynamic is going to be SO DIFFERENT from the books and yet JUST as juicy because the important things -- the love, the longing, the passion, the understanding, the recognition -- that is all still there. But I don't see 69 year old Daniel Molloy falling over himself to worship and cowtow to Armand. My DREAM is we see BOTH dynamics just to juxtapose the two, and the strife it creates as two people who once loved each other try to get back to that place now that they aren't those people anymore.

So tl;dr, yes and no. If he says it, it's going to be like, one time and so dripping with sarcasm Armand will be fighting his fangs again. If we get an earnest pet name it'll be very private I feel (as opposed to Armand who would call Daniel his beloved in line at the post office).

Also on a personal note, "boss" is so deeply unsexy. Goons and henchmen call the Joker boss, I don't want that haha. Oh and also I have like zero recollection of him calling Armand "boss" in the books, that's a detail that my brain mulched up and ate years ago I guess. So I was the wrong person to ask this. Thanks for reading though! 😂

[nthspecialll]

Is Bonnie flirting?

I was shocked when I started looking at rdr1 content and saw how many people said that Bonnie was flirting with John, because I did not see it like that. I am autistic, I miss many social clues, so this post is not me trying to answer if she is flirting, but rather me explaining how I saw the "flirting" scenes and asking if others can explain the whole flirting thing.

Their very first scene together where John says "Mr Marston. John Marston" and Bonnie replies "Bonnie MacFarlane. Miss Bonnie MacFarlane." People say she is flirting?? Is that not just an introduction?

At the end of the previously mentioned scene, Bonnie also asks John to come join her to patrole the area, people say that is flirting too, but I find that one to make a lot of sense without flirting.

I want you to imagine you found a guy shot outside the base of a violent gang and you saved him, would your first instrinct not be to find out more about him? Asking him to join her is a way of putting them in a situation where you kind of force them to talk and tell whether or not you should be expecting the worst criminal in years to come finish the job.

Later, same mission, Bonnie offers John to come inside the house and rest. Yall ever heard of, hospitality? Or once again, trying to find out more about this person who is dodging questions left and right, clearly hiding something?

Or when Bonnie wants to race John, how are we flirting? Bonnie is just a woman in a man's world as John himself says, she likes to have fun. "Oh but she jokes with him," yeah but it isn't like she only jokes with John, she also does with Abigail.

The last scene with Bonnie though, where she shuffles her feet, I found that one weird, really weird when I saw it. There is also when Abigail says "you made her flush red" and John said "I have that effect on women." Which, again I found weird because I didn't see John and Bonnie as flirting, so it felt very off to me.

There is also the fact that John replicates Bonnie's energy and he is not flirting, he is cannonically not flirting. Several times in game it is said that John respects the ideals of marriage, one time when he is talking to his guide in the first mission, once by the strange man and then several times when NPC's try to hit on him. So they are acting the same and John isn't flirting, why is Bonnie?

Bonnie is also a very no-nonsense or bullshit kind of person, that ain't just my opinion but also written on the fanwiki, and her falling in love with a random dude she found shot before he even woke up or she would be able to find out whether or not he was a threat to the farm she has taken reponsibility over, sounds very strange to me.

This next paragraph is just a precaution but I tried to explain this to someone once who replied "oh you just don't like it because it is straight" and to that I say, that is not true. Straight ships can be good, but like any other ship they need to be written well, like John and Abigail, but John and Bonnie? If that was a romance book I would give it zero out of five and to be honest my expectations for romance books is pretty much anything that isn't Collen Hoover or Icebreaker, so it shouldn't be that hard.

Again, this is not me saying "omg she 100% never flirted!" No, this is me showing my prespective and hoping that maybe someone will show me where the flirting is because I know I am outnumbered when it comes to this and I feel like I am missing something.

[besttropeveershowdown]

The Most Annoying Trope Showdown: Quarterfinals, Poll 4

Found Family Breakup

When you have the found family, but then at the end of the story they all just leave and go start nuclear families with random love interests and live in different places and rarely talk to each other, or otherwise seem to completely lose the found family closeness they had during the story

Propaganda:

It’s literally getting rid of the found family, taking away the best trope ever

Pair the Spares

Every or nearly every character who did not get together with someone during the story is paired off in the epilogue or very end. The characters are often shown having kids together as well

Propaganda:

This may just be my aromanticism talking, but it's annoying seeing everyone getting shoved into a relationship at the last minute. It doesn't even make sense most of the time. Let! People! Be! Happy! Single!

I am aroace and I hate this. just let them be happy on their own, don't just pair up characters for the sake of pairing them up, even if they have zero chemistry. this happens so often in all kinds of media, and fandom is also guilty of this. not everyone needs a partner! leave them alone!

I love romantic subplots but this is just amatonormative bullshit. It has all of the "romantic partner=happy ending" bullshit that fucks people up in real life, with none of the fluttery crush feelings or the angsty decisions. It doesn't add anything to the character arcs and is only detrimental to the themes of a work as a whole. It can cast a shadow over other romantic subplots in the series I might have enjoyed up until this point, because I start to wonder if those romances were really about the character/themes/plot, or if the writers simply think "leading lady goes with leading man, sidekick with sidekick, etc. etc."

It's fucking stupid. A lot of the characters that end up together either barely interact, make no sense or both. It also implies the only happy ending requires love and marriage. It makes no sense for some of the characters to want to settle down and have kids even if they are with someone they love.

[greenleaf777]

I am absolutely howling 🤣

I just saw someone comment that they don’t want ANY sex in Elains book.

Now, let’s pretend thats their real feelings and not their obviously anti elriel feelings (LOL), i’m going to take you by the hand and lead you towards a million and one book series that have ZERO smut in them babe, cause you are reading the wrong one right now 🤣.

It’s the same kind of people that comment that they want Elain to be a single, flirty and thriving in her book, again, this is a romance series hun, you are reading the wrong genre. Tho we all know why thats now your magically new mindset. They know no matter how hard they try to campaign, Elain won’t be giving Lucien a chance all of a sudden soo now they all of a sudden care about her and her mental health and well being. And she can only be healthy if she is single apparently.

They are just spouting nonsense at this point hoping something will take.

You want me to believe you made it all the way to the end of ACOSF and NOW you have an issue with romance, lust and sex in a romance series full of love, lust and sex?. Give me a goddamn break. Does anyone actually buy your bullshit?