#⅋ ! / ( introspection . . . ) THERE’S A HEART THAT BEATS FOR HOPE . ¡

[rose-maidenn]

•||A reading on your past life ||•

Pile 1-2-3

Hello Besties welcome to this new reading , choose with your intuition and take what resonates and leave the rest , thanks for waiting and i hope this readings helps you in a way I love you so so much . If you resonate please leave a comment or a feedback as it makes me so so happy.

Also This is a triggering reading so prepare yourself or read later 🫶 Sit with pop corn cause this is gonna be long.

Masterlist || Paid readings

Pile 1 :

Hi and welcome to your reading , thank you for allowing me to read you , firstly can I give you a hug cause this is heavy sweetheart, I feel like you're such a kind soul and you're so confused as to why things are happening as they're happening but don't worry we will unroll it for you today . You were a masculine in your past life quite literally or you were someone who had a lot of masculine energy , who was bold , ambitious and strong , one of the confirmations will be south node in leo or 5th house . Some of you belonged to the middle eastern countries or any country that was heavy on family and legacy , honestly I even get a little mexican mafia family vibe ,that's so cool !!!!!

Your childhood was filled with riches and fun , your family was very much on the dangerous side but your birth brought changes , the quarrels, the violence reduced a lot due to your incoming , you saved your family so to say and this path was not so easy , because a big family comes with many people and many different perspectives , you quite literally had to fight a lot of judgement and introspection. At a point you might even have gone away from your family and then returned , they're were people who weren't your well wishers , I sense uncle and aunt energy and in this life they have reincarnated as your friend , if you want to identify them you just have to see who has stolen something from you and you will get the answer . I also get something about the Egyptian scarab as well you should read about it . Some of you in your past life might have chosen the life of a monk or an ascetic or someone who was detached from the idea of love which is so surprising because in this life you crave love so much but back then you had really different priorities and you respected yourself and the other person enough to not pursue that but on the other hand some of you did have a breakthrough later in life , whoever this person was who caused the thaw of your heart was a mercury dominant person .

One of your main obstacles was your overthinking and even in this life you suffer from it , this is a controversial suggestion but trust me don't read or listen too many predictive stuff okay , focus on the present , affirm positive things , believe that you create your reality . Another obstacle was shame and guilt , you had done something that wasn't so accepted by the society and you beat yourself up so much because of that , this could be one of that reasons why you turned to be a monk . Your achievements in your previous life time was influence and flamboyance, you were quite literally the queen bee or the literal queen or the princess of your community, you served them and some of you also later turned to be an oracle whoever chose to be stern in the path of the ascetic . You were jovial and you lifted spirits up so much so you were really loved among your community until the fall i mentioned when I spoke about in your obstacles . Spiritually the card from my deck is of Yemaya so some of you could be her devotee , or the devotee of a water God/ Goddess like Aphrodite , Laxmi , Apah. On the other hand from my other deck it showed that some of you believed in the power of nature and healing through nature as nature was your mother , you practiced salutations to the sun and sang hymns to the sun , danced and rejoiced with your community and we're very centred in your beliefs . You also taught a lot of people to be confident in their own practice and continue to do so even in this life .

You died a happy death I don't see violence , either you died alone as a monk or you died with your disciples or family , the energy is that you were peaceful during death , you overcame most of the patterns that hurt you .

The main lesson you learned in your past life was that of the act of leaving , to understand when to leave , when to desert and when to choose yourself . As humans we oftentime stay stuck in the same cycles because we are scared of what will happen if we get off the leash , but your last life you learned this lesson. The karma you brought forward in this life was that since some of you feel very null or feel as if life or existence itself is like a void , you feel as if you have problems in creativity or you're not intellectual enough or you can't talk that well in the public , this is due to the shame you still carry regards to the general public , you thought you healed it in the past life but you just repressed it , this manifests as fear of being seen in this life . Your past life purpose was to create an identity beyond your primary care givers , a detached persona beyound the people in your life , to immerse yourself in art and acquire knowledge and skills and share your knowledge.

Your current life takeaway is to be quick in your actions and decisions , to do what your heart wants as fast as you can . They say creativity is like a bird you have to catch it and in this life your takeaway is to catch it , understand your patterns and shadow and release it . Nurture yourself like you are your own mother and take care of yourself like you're a child . Another takeaway is to connect to your soul family and find a community or tribe , when you overcome your fear of being seen the community will appear in front of you . You will be seen, heard and loved . All the best 🩷

Pile 2:

Hi and welcome to your reading , thank you for allowing me to read you , before I even started reading i got the energy that some of you were war veterans or doctor in your past life , the other energies here are that of a brave warrior , princess/lady in high society , and this is an interesting reading so get ready for a ride .

Firstly you were a female or with feminine essence , which coincides with then nurturing energy of a doctor and the vision I received , the vision was of a nurse or doctor tying a bandage on a child , in this case you can be either of the two parties , the child who suffered in war or the nurse who grieved the losses everyday . In this lifetime you're a truly sensitive person , you cry for kids , you feed dogs and people mistake this sensitivity for a weakness but you're truly an intelligent soul .one thing about you was in past life you were someone who was very stable and someone who was tranquil and could handle situations . Some other words I get about you are cholera epidemic and shock therepy, which might result in your have nervous system issue or a weak nervous system in this life .

Moving on as a child you were really outspoken, you broke norms , one interesting fact about some of you is , your parents in the past was suffering or in distress that they aren't conceiving but then they were blessed with you , I get that it was through the worship of a solar deity and they guide you this life as well , you were quite a loner and always in their own zone , your communication was clear and you used to read a lot of books and we're good with education in general, you never dimmed your light and you never adjusted which made you a local lore and center of attraction in your community , all of this gave you quite a breaking childhood , you were really lonely tho .

When it comes to your family they weren't the best ones , they didn't believe in family bonding much they were the caregivers they gave you food but not emotional care , but the thing is they were so busy as well , they couldn't even care for themselves , always either travelling or moving away , but you did have a motherly or god mother figure who took ample care of you . They created a safe space for you and a home that you could run to when you felt that the world was too much , this is eerie but this motherly figure will meet you in this life in the form of a pet , prominently a cat .

When it comes to relationships they were healthy , this person loved you so much , remember there is a theory that states the moles in your body indicate where your lover kissed you most and you do have a lot , they might be in a nurturing field as well or be a landlord , they were interested in gardening or were into teaching . They were truly a mirror of your energy and your love felt like devotion in true sense , really pure and beautiful energy .

The obstacles in your previous life was that you never connected to your purpose of a revolution, you wanted to go against norms you wanted to revolt against evil people but you were scared , but you were silence , but your truth was hidden , you took money for your silence for some of you . In this life you feel creatively blocked because of that . Some of you are actually starseeds lyrian or Arcturian . You were so into nurturing others but you didn't nurture yourself . I channel the song army dreamers so strongly btw.

Your achievement was that you were the people's princess , a high land lady , a queen , a succesful warrior , a nurturing women good at what she does , a great teacher or a nurturing protective housewife . You empowered people in a passive way as a housewife . But if you were a successful warrior for some of you , it was in your later life , i lowkey get mulan vibes , the people's princess or landlady or queen that you became was because of the love you had for your people, you were benevolent and an energy giver a time giver . You were a good disciple , a learner . You learnt how to say no to people in later life and gave good guidence .

Your spirituality was of shinto , buddhism , catholic, Russian or sumerian , you believed in redemption and cried for people in a way , you prayed for the winners and the sinners , you might have been very interested in Baba Yaga, or worshipped a fire deity , you were born by the blessings of a solar deity I stated earlier so they still guide you , I channel Apollo energy . Some other energies you might have worshipped were feminine like Hera , Parvati , Radha and Hanuman as well as a masculine deity . In your later life you might have changed religion or become religious and you went through a spiritual awakening. Once in your past life some of you underwent an episode of possession.

Your death happend during a war for some of you , you lived a fairly good life and died with honour , as a serve to your country or war . For the others of you emotionally you suffered too much and in a way that led to your unfortunate demise , sickness could be the reason as well you could surpass the sickness but you gave up mentally , hugs to you sweetheart.

Lessons learnt are of carefulness in this life and the fact that you will loose opportunities if your timings are wrong , you have to choose your mission is another life lesson, don't avoid your mission every soul has one tap into yours. Another lesson learnt is of intuition and how to use it well . You learnt how to be wise but also in a playful mode and learnt how if you're not rooted in yourself people places and energies will drain you .

The karma you brought forth came from lost desires of your soul , you wanted to live more , experience more but you couldn't, this life calls for you to enjoy in your own accord . For the others of you in the war , if someone died through you , this life you will nurture them and release their karma . For the others you're born with a guiding spirit as in your past life you nurtured people a lot in this life you will too which will make you study medical fields and teach people . You past life purpose was to understand people and patterns and overcome them and have self belief . Your current life takeaway is simple that you're the master of your own fate and the captain of your own soul remember that and move with grace , you can do what you want your destiny is in your hands , stay blessed and look for signs like feathers and lanterns , keep a peacock feather in your room and honour your inner child and higher self 🩷.

Pile 3 :

Hi and welcome to your reading , thank you for allowing me to read you , You were of the masculine gender or with masculine energy , big dreamer energy and someone who was well liked among their peers the star , the charmer . I also channel the energy of heardsman , farmer , witch , oracle , odd but you used to love brewing tea and arranging flowers such a Japanese vibe.

You had a good childhood one that screams dance with the abyss, one could say you lived in utopia and bliss , you were mostly oblivious and didn't know about the harshness of the world mostly guarded and protected, you know one thing is that you were kept safe from the dangers of the society , there could be bad people conspiring against you or your family . For some of you you almost died when you were young due to falling from a height or due to someone conspiring. You were the first born and you brought so much joy into your family , from a young age you were a truth teller or a fortune teller and as a child you had strong psychic qualities . Some of you could even see ghosts .

You had a good family life , but it was really disciplined, you had to work a lot , had to go through famine at a point , practice regular religious or societal customs , one thing is that your family had seen both richness and poorness so it made you very strong inna way . They were people who believed that one should go for what their soul truly wants but often failed to stick with their own ideals , you eventually had to establish boundaries as they started to project their traumas and things that brought them backward onto you so you were seperated for a while , they weren't bad people , they just didn't know better and you forgave them .

You had meaningful and fruitful relationships , a loving sweet family , you had children and then grandchildren, shared stories , baked goodies , shared happiness and pain and passed down magical teachings and healing techniques . Your lover loved you so much and learnt so much from you , you had a healed heart chakra and it was brimming with love , you both filled each other's cups so lovingly and gave each other spiritual and divine knowledge . You both came and set an example for the society about how a relationship and how love should be and it was so beautiful for everyone to see and even if no one saw it you were really kind and that's all that mattered.

Your obstacles were tampered protection, when you lived you always lived in the fear of famine of the fear of being attacked , the fear that your resources will fall short , that you will have to give extra taxes , that bigotry of the rich will eat you up . For the others of you , you struggled to juggle between responsibilities and for the others you might have compromised your morals for an adverse situation .

Your achivement was that eventually you came out of that situation and lived a life where either you were emotionally extremely fulfilled and we're in absolute love and for the others you had so much resources , like I was telling you about the compromise of morals in the obstacles , this lead to the achievement and even tho it felt like you had achieved something it always felt like at what cost . You were the epitome of ask and you shall get it , you lept without overthinking and that is why universe blessed you with so much and you could transform your adverse situations into something fruitful. Eventually in your later life you became a person who lived with truth and was a person who believed in kindness but also violence .one of the main patterns that harm you to this day is guilt , self doubt and unreasonable fear.

Spiritually you belonged to a tribe that gave sacrifices to the deity , you may have been a Rishi who did yagyas . You belonged to Aztec , Hindu , zorastriann, Roman etc .You believed that the way to God requires sacrifice and this sacrifice could be anything , you were disciplined enough and did practice sadhana regularly , if you're worshipping some deity in this life it's most probable that you worshipped them in your past life too. You might have worshipped Zeus , Brahma , Saraswati , Athena, Murugan , Bhairav . You also might have practiced Tantra or even the marg of krishna bhakti .you believed in spirituality through actions of daily life.

You died an accidental death or were stabbed , you might have some marks in this life as well . You died due to a conspiracy . As you were getting so forward in your spiritual journey or gaining so much wealth people were after your money and resources and the thing they did was conspire against you to get your resources or supress your spiritual influence and gifts . Some of you knew when you would die and we're prepared . For a small percentage of you , you commited s*****e and because of that you might suffer from fear of death , abandonment and the fear of being lost .

The lesson you brought forward was that , you shouldn't be swayed by every little thing that comes forth and you should be grounded in what you have , that you should dream but you should be careful as most of the things that excite you can be false as the world is a palace of mirages one should be careful of the depths for the depths are beautiful but deadly . You also became a cautious and detailed oriented person in this life , you were careful as to not hurt yourself and your loved ones. The karma you brought forth was of doing things the right way , you have done some mistakes sacrificed some people for personal gain , been a harbinger of chaos knowingly or unknowingly and in this life you will cleanse them through your worship in pure forms , only your heart will guide you and your devotion will put you in place , be rooted in your practice and pray daily . Your past life purpose was to be a highly knowledgeable witch or oracle or priestess or an old grandma and you paved the knowledge of your clans and brought forth fertility to your lands . For some of you , you could have been a scientist.

The current life takeaway is to live your current life with ultimate truth and expression of your true self , you might be a sun dominant , check the placement of your sun as it's very essential to your purpose. Connect to your ancestors and connect to the knowledge of your soul . For some of you this life is great for your spiritual growth as a Shiv bhakt . You will have to remember in this life to not compromise your values and what you know and give openly to people and help as much as you can , this will cleanse your karmas and bridge you to higher living . I'm genuinely so so proud of you , have a blessed life , eat oranges and wear beautiful dresses you wanted this in your past life 🩷.

Thanks and have an amazing time ahead 🧡

[brayneworms]

blood on the bandage, ghost in the room | izuru kamukura

kinktober day two: wet dream

word count. 2.1k

content. 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, wet dreams, masturbation, past hinata/reader (flashback), introspection, kissing/making out, handjobs (more alluded to than explicit but still), gender-neutral reader (they use body butter and lip balm which i consider to be gender-neutral)

♪ deadlines (hostile) by car seat headrest

kinktober mlist | regular mlist

Izuru’s dreams wouldn’t make sense to the average person.

They are quick and hard and violent like a surgeon sawing away at you. They are more akin to haemorrhages than anything else. He does not often find recurring imagines in his states of hypnagogia—he knows the common ones. Teeth falling out, turning up to a social event naked, falling from a great height. Maybe it’s an indication of how fear has been cut from him by the root, rubbed down to a polished nub, that these dreams quelled as soon as he went under the knife. 

But—it’s annoying. Actually, it’s the thing that makes him realise he is still capable of feeling annoyed. There are trickles of his old self here. Hajime Hinata. He turns the name over in his head like a coin, faces flashing, green eyes-red eyes, short hair-long hair, ordinary-special. The differences between him and Hinata are strides rather than steps, but the boy insists on clinging to him. He supposes, grudgingly, it makes a certain amount of sense. Izuru had been made from the scraps of Hinata; had scrounged himself to completion from Hinata’s spare rib, for want of a poetic comparison. No effort could erase the boy completely.

And yet what remained of him annoyed. Izuru had no favourite foods (sustenance was sustenance) but sometimes when they gave him custard for dessert his stomach did an involuntary twitch and saliva trickled between his teeth. Izuru logically knew that the four toothbrushes in the pack were functionally identical, yet found himself drawn to use the blue one first, every time. Izuru had no friends, no family, no affection—and yet, and yet, when he saw you… 

It was like Hinata existed in gasps of consciousness, sparks of recognition that Izuru doesn’t know how to reconcile. He sees you across the grassy campus and knows the yuzu smell of your skin because you buy drugstore body-butter with the green lid. He knows the feeling of your hair beneath his hand and how your head fits in the hollow of his neck, that your heart beats slightly faster than the average person at around 89 beats per minute and that you have a mild intolerance to lactose that often doesn’t stop you indulging anyway. 

He is a creature cut from desire; such things have been surgically removed from him, and Izuru can’t imagine missing them. He’s seen the way things like love and lust cause people to fetter away their inhibitors, their sense, their selflessness. Desire makes the world an animalistic one; renounced from it, he is clean. Alone, perhaps, but clean. 

Not lately, though. His dreams have become disturbed. Jittery flashes from a life that is not his, but was, flash through him at night like an old film reel. It’s a feeling he cannot reconcile—Hinata had loved you. Izuru does not. But the body, the flesh remembers, even if the mind is absent. 

The body remembers all too well. Izuru dreams:

A camp bed, all they could afford. Most of Hajime’s furniture has been fleeced for spare yen to pay off the tuition fees for Hope’s Peak (the parents don’t know this debt will be settled with finality some way into their son’s second year, their money paid back in blood). The two of you have to squish up close together to have room for both of you, but Hajime privately does not mind, and he suspects—hopes—that you don’t either. Your presence and touch is not foreign, not by this stage of knowing each other, but it still makes him nervous. He feels like a spring lamb around you, his hands too big, too clammy, god he hopes you don’t notice him wiping them on his sweats every chance he gets. And you, doused in the thin lacquer of premature summer heat, skin glimmering with sweat beneath your loose shirt and shorts. Your knee presses into his, lazy, unshaved, but moisturised always with sunscreen and that body butter he likes. It’s citrusy—lemon or yuzu or something. 

You’re gorgeous. So gorgeous Hajime has no idea how he got so lucky. Some talentless loser—but he has to stop thinking about himself like that, really. You’re not talented either. Not desperate enough to remortgage your house to get into Hope’s Peak on a pity course, either, which he reckons still makes him a damn sight more pathetic than you. It’s fine. Whatever. He’s fine being pathetic around you since you seem to like him anyway. 

You look up at him. Your lips gleam dully with remnants of balm; it smudges up over your cupid’s bow, highlighting the skin there. “What’re you looking at?” you ask, in a tone that makes Hajime think you already know. He feels himself go impossibly warmer. 

“Nothing,” he blusters, fidgets anxiously with his too-big fingers. “D’you, uh, have enough room?”

“Well, no. But it’s fine. I might prefer it this way,” you say.

“Ahaha…” His laugh trails to an awkward stop. “Might you?”

“I might. You could convince me.” 

Ah. Okay. He’s not totally dense; he can pick up a hint. As long as the other person giving it to him is wearing bells and flashing red lights and a siren. He draws in a quick breath, steeling his suddenly galloping pace before leaning forward. His nose and chin brushes against yours, the angle awkward, too close; a spring digs into his thigh as he noses closer, feeling the soft slide of your lip balm on his mouth. It’s too hot to kiss properly, he thinks—no, despairs. There’s little he loves more than kissing you. Sex is good—sex is great—but he stumbles under the sheer pressure of it sometimes. With kissing there’s no real standards to uphold, as long as he remembers to keep control of his tongue. 

Still, he’s a young guy, and his body doesn’t listen to reason all the time. Only a few minutes later he has to pull back with a groan, glancing awkwardly where your hip rests in the cradle between his thighs. “Sorry,” he mutters, flushed to his ears. “Sorry, it’ll, uh, go down. If we stop.”

“Do you want to stop?” you ask. Hajime feels slightly dazed when he looks at you like this; your hair a little rumpled, shirt pulled to one shoulder leaving the other bared, looking up in a way that makes him feel big, loved, though maybe those are the same thing, he doesn’t know. 

“Not… not really,” he stammers, feeling grotesque in the face of his own desire. “But I don’t want to—like—just because it’s there doesn’t mean you have to do anything. I don’t want you to feel like you have to. You can just ignore it.”

Your hand on his knee. Not pushing up, just there, but it still makes hot sparks run up his spine. “I can help. If you want.”

Jesus. Hajime closes his eyes briefly, trying to ignore the way his body hums hotly. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to. Do you want?”

Of course, I do, he wants to shout. Can’t you see how much I want? I’m made of want. Instead he just gives a shaky nod, forcing himself not to shut his eyes; the vulnerability of it might be too much to bear. You lean forward and he loses himself in the hazy river of your lips against his, the slow lull that kissing you draws him into. Your hand slides slowly up his leg, squeezes at his thigh, kneads his flesh like bread until he feels his bones turn to jelly, until he’s straining against the fabric of his sweats and letting out pathetic choked noises into your mouth. This is what you do, he thinks as he rocks his hips lazily against your hand. You turn him insistent. 

Your hand slips under his waistband. He has a brief moment of panic, wondering when the hell the last time he trimmed or groomed or did anything down there was before your hand wraps warm and firm around him and the thoughts slip straight out of his head. He’s almost sleepy with pleasure as you stroke him, embarrassingly wet already so there’s no give beneath the soft of your palm. 

And he doesn’t have to hide, not with you, not ever, so he bucks his hips up into the tunnel of your hand, seeking something, so close—

And Izuru wakes. 

It’s cold and around him there is a perfect darkness. It is the furthest thing from a sunbathed summer afternoon as there could be. The sheets on his bed are pristine white and starched with something antiseptic. And the biggest difference is that he is Izuru, not Hinata—he is the furthest thing from that boy, that simpleton, someone who could never conceive of what he might one day become, and—

He’s erect.

Izuru blinks down at himself, ostensibly bewildered, which in and of itself is a pleasant change. But no, there’s nothing pleasant about this. It feels—strange, he can feel his skin prickling against his nightwear. He tries to breathe; it’s not as if this is the first time this has happened. Biology still has as much sway over his body as usual, and he knows that an endocrine system is nothing but a hormonal playground until around age twenty-four or twenty-five, and so yes it happens sometimes. He just ignores it until it goes away, which generally happens quite quickly.

He waits. Nothing happens. Every shift against the fabric seems only to make it worse, in fact.

Izuru grits his teeth. He’s not inherently averse to this—it’s new, and new is always a touch more interesting than the same. But it is, perhaps, a worrying symptom of a larger issue. Hinata, still inside his brain somewhere, tucked away like a badly-kept secret, like a loose penny. He’s not a fan of the idea that he may decide to come back out again one day. 

And he knows this is Hinata’s doing, because when he reaches out tentatively to lay his palm flat over the tent in his pyjama pants, it’s your face that flashes through his mind. It’s yuzu body butter and gossamer lip balm, and a noise rises in the back of his throat before he can stop it, something low and soft. His fingers fan out like a spiders’ body, smoothing over the fabric, the dip of his palm pressing against where he throbs. He remembers your hand doing something similar. 

And it’s second nature—or first, he supposes grimly—that slips his hand beneath the loose waistband of his pants. He doesn’t wear underwear to sleep, so there’s nothing but skin and a thatch of hair before the pads of his fingers graze the side of his dick. Izuru hisses, straight through his teeth; his sensitivity is heightened, no doubt from ignoring this side of himself for months. Just taking himself in hand makes his head spin. 

He knows that most people his age think of something when they do this—other people, commonly, but also pornography or some specific fetish. Izuru doesn’t know what to think of—but his body seems to have made the choice for him. The flesh remembers; as he makes the first slow, firm stroke, it’s you he thinks of. The warmth of your breath against his jaw, the soft of your hand on his dick. 

It would feel better, he thinks absently, if it were you doing this instead.

…How absurd. What a stupid thing to think.

But he doesn’t stop, can’t stop, even loathing his own train of thought. He’d thought he’d have to relearn this, but his hands move on autopilot, remembering how he likes to touch, to squeeze, to wait. His thumb strokes over the head, collects the prespend there and the sound that starts echoing from him as he fucks into his hand makes his brain buzz. One of his legs is flung over the side of the bed, long hair a tangle beneath him; he feels out of sorts, clumsy, and the unfamiliarity makes his blood quicken. 

He squeezes his eyes shut, bucks his hips into his hand. He’s close already. It’s barely been ninety seconds. Eighty-seven, eighty-eight, eighty-nine—

“I can help,” you whisper into his ear, some pretty sweet-smelling ghost. “If you want.”

With a strangled cry, Izuru comes into his hand, clamping the inside of his elbow against his mouth to stifle the noise. In the seconds after he’s breathless, heart shredding in his ears, blinking up at the swimming darkness of the ceiling. It’s dizzying—not just the experience, the crash of adrenaline, but the way it makes his perpetual clarity dim for a minute. 

For a moment, he shuts his eyes, wishes that when he opened them he’d see you lying beside him.

Izuru chalks that thought up to one of Hinata’s; these days, it’s getting harder to tell the difference. 

[scarletwinterxx]

in the quiet of us - choi seungcheol imagine

tbh this fic came about while listening to milk teeth and did you like her in the morning by niki 🥺 dare i say i'm getting better with the angst haha ofc it's gonna end in a cute way

anywayss i hope you like this one🤍

for my other svt fics, check them here

if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

You and Seungcheol have been dating for nearly a year, and on the surface, the two of you seem to be an ideal couple—you’re the shy, introspective type, while he’s outgoing, expressive, and always the center of attention. 

Your love for Seungcheol is quiet. It’s gentle, steady, and sometimes, you feel like it’s almost too quiet to be enough for someone like him. You have always loved him in a subtle, understated way, hoping that your affection is enough without needing to shout about it. Seungcheol, on the other hand, is the type who wears his heart on his sleeve. He’s affectionate, always complimenting you and showing his love in grand, showy gestures. 

He never shies away from declaring his feelings to the world.

You will never tell him your reasons for holding back when the truth is you love him with every piece of yourself. You’re terrified that your calm, reserved nature won’t compare to the passion and intensity of his past relationships. You about his ex-girlfriend, the one he once spoke of like she was his soul mate. Cheol has always been open about his past, and while he never directly compares you to her, you can’t help but feel like there are times you’re falling short of the vibrant, adventurous, free-spirited image of the girl who’s still a part of his memories. 

You and Seungcheol are sitting together on the couch, having just returned from a weekend getaway. You’re quiet, lost in thought.

"That trip was amazing, huh? I love how we just got to be spontaneous and go wherever we felt like." Cheol says while looking through the photos of your quick weekend getaway with some of his friends, you watch the big smile on his face 

"Yeah... it was nice." softly you say, Cheol being the mind reader he is, immediately looks at you when he hears your voice

Leaning closer to you he asks, "You don’t sound convinced. What’s on your mind?"

“I’ve been thinking a lot about... us, actually."

Cheol felt his heart skip a beat, and not in a good way. There’s so many breakup scenes that start off with those same words

"Us? What about us?" he asks

"I know you’ve had past relationships. I know you loved… you loved her. And I... I don’t know, Seungcheol. I can’t help but feel like... maybe my way of loving you isn’t enough."

Your sudden confession makes him sit straight up, wondering where all of this is coming from, "What do you mean? Of course, it’s enough. You love me in your own way—"

"But it’s so quiet. I’m not like the others. I’m not as... exciting or loud or memorable. I don’t do the big, dramatic gestures like they did. I’m just... me." you cut him off

You see hurt flash across his eyes, wishing you never said anything. You should’ve just said nothing. To avoid his stare, you look down at your hands that were resting on your lap 

"You’re not being fair to yourself. You’re everything I want, just the way you are." he whispers, feeling more sad and disappointed that you think that way about yourself when you’re quite literally everything to him.

Softly, almost to yourself you say "I’m just scared that you’re going to wake up one day and realize that I’m nothing like the girls you’ve loved before. That you’ll want... someone more. Someone who loves you in a bigger, louder way."

He looks at you, a thousand things running through his mind.

"Look at me." he tells you but you don’t move from where you’re sitting

"I just... I don’t know if I can keep pretending that everything’s fine when I feel so... small in your love." 

Gently turning your chin to face him, he smiles at you

"You don’t have to pretend with me. Not ever."

"But what if I’m not what you need? What if you want someone who—"

Cutting you off gently, he speaks again "I don’t want anyone else. I want you. I love you, the way you love me, and it’s more than enough. You don’t need to be like anyone else, because there’s no one like you. You love me in a way that’s so quiet, so steady—it’s the kind of love I’ve always needed, even if I didn’t realize it until now."

You can’t stop the tears falling down on your cheeks, Cheol does that for you. He wipes them away one by one, with each one he says a vow in his mind to never let anything or anyone even himself make you cry in this lifetime. 

"But... I don’t know how to love any other way. I’m not like you. I can’t... do all the big things you do for me." you whimper

"You don’t need to. I don’t need grand gestures. I don’t need loud. I need you, exactly as you are." he shakes his head, holding your face between his hands

He waits for you to say anything else but you don’t. You just embrace him, letting yourself fall apart infront of the only man who knows how to fix it all. And he lets you be. He lets you cry in his arms until you fall asleep, he lets you let go of what you’re feeling. Whispering words of assurance and affirmation, letting you know you’re not alone. 

You’ll never feel alone as long as you have him. 

The next morning, after a long conversation, you and Seungcheol are sitting in the kitchen together. He already made breakfast for the two of you. 

You look at him, still feeling a bit unsure but more at ease.

“So... you’re okay with the way I love you? Even if it’s not loud?" you’re the first one to speak

Softly smiling, he takes your hand "Your love is exactly what I’ve always needed. You love me with a softness, a patience, and I’m so grateful for it. I love how you take the time to listen to me, to show you care in the quietest ways. You don’t have to change who you are for me. I want you."

This makes you smile, little by little your worries disappear. You know it’s going to take some time before you feel okay, it’s a war between you and mind and yet here’s Cheol ready to fight that battle with you.

"I’ve always loved you like that. I just didn’t think it would ever be enough." you whisper

He walks over to your side, leaning in and kissing your forehead) "It’s more than enough. You’re more than enough. Always have been." he tells you

Later that day, Seungcheol left to get some errands done. When he comes back, he surprises you with a small gesture—no grand gesture, just a simple note with a favorite flower from the garden.

"Seungcheol, this is... really sweet." you smile up at him

Leaning against the doorframe, looking at you with affection "I know it’s not a big, loud thing, but I hope it says what I’ve been trying to tell you: I love you exactly as you are. In your quiet, beautiful way."

"I love you, too. In my own way." chucking softly, you shoot him a smile. Walking towards where he was, you throw your arms around him. His arms immediately wraps around you, 

"And I’ll never want anything else."

[melpthmv]

Come Back To Me - ANGST

Abby x f!reader

After the events in Jackson, Abby pulls away from everyone —even you— consumed by guilt and pain. But a wound brings her back to your arms… along with everything she tried to bury.

warning: Introspective romance, comfort, hurt/comfort, soft emotional tension. Abby is broken —and you help her rebuild herself, little by little, nurse reader.

author's note: English is not my first lenguage and i´m using a translator, sorry if some parts aren't clear. Writing a little angst, bc i love suffer haha, hope you like it.

It was late. You were sitting on one of the cots, calmly folding bandages and placing a few pills into a pill organizer. The old light above flickered now and then, casting shaky flashes that made the room’s brightness falter.

You heard the metallic creak of the door opening. Slowly, you turned your head to see who it was — And there she was. Her eyes were distant, one hand gripping her arm like she was trying to hide a wound. She looked misaligned, like she hadn’t slept in days. She looked tired.

Your heart sank at the sight of her. It had been weeks since she last came to you. You had only seen her from a distance, walking through the halls without even glancing your way.

"Do you have time?" she asked softly.

You nodded. You didn’t say anything, just got up from the cot to make space for her.

She walked over in silence, her steps slow, like the weight she carried inside was heavier than the wound on her arm.

"Let me see it" you said gently.

Your eyes met for a moment as you took her hand and carefully moved it away from her arm to look at the wound.

It wasn’t serious. Just a shallow cut. You knew she could’ve treated it herself. But she came to you. And even if you didn’t say it out loud… that made you a little happy.

After a quick look at the wound, you stood up to gather what you needed. A clean bandage, antiseptic, some gauze. Once everything was ready, you sat back down beside her.

As you started cleaning the wound, the silence became heavy. Thick. Abby didn’t complain, but she didn’t look at you either. And you… didn’t know what to say. All you could do was focus on her hands, her breathing, on the invisible distance still hanging between you.

You couldn’t take the silence anymore. It felt heavier than any unspoken words. So you spoke.

"Why have you been so distant?" you asked, trying to sound steady, but a quiet tremble of hurt slipped into your voice.

Abby didn’t answer right away. Her eyes stayed fixed on a spot on the floor, like she was searching for the right words between the cracks in the concrete. Her jaw tensed slightly, and then, in a quiet voice, she said:

"Because I don’t know how to look at you without feeling like I’ll fall apart. Because after what I did… I don’t know if I deserve to be looked at the way you look at me"

She paused. Her fingers pressed into the edge of the cot, and her voice came out shaky, almost inaudible.

"I didn’t want you to hate me. So I pulled away… before you could"

You looked at her, brow slightly furrowed, a tight knot building in your throat. The words hurt before you even said them.

"Abby…" your voice broke, barely a whisper "I could never hate you"

Your grip tightened slightly as you finished treating her wound, as if your hands could somehow say what your heart had been keeping quiet for weeks.

You finished wrapping her arm in silence. You stayed there, beside her, with the bandage still in your fingers and your chest beating too fast.

"Why would you think that?" you asked gently, fingers lacing with hers. Your thumbs traced slow lines on her skin, like you were trying to soothe whatever pain she still carried inside.

Abby lowered her gaze, watching how your fingers moved against hers. She didn’t pull away. She just breathed in deeply, like she was about to release something she’d been holding in too long.

"Because you knew me before all of this" she whispered "When I could still smile without feeling guilty, because with you I didn’t have to prove anything. I could just… be myself, and now it feels like all of that’s gone. Like that version of me doesn’t exist anymore and I didn’t want you to see what’s left"

Her eyes finally met yours. Glassy. Fragile.

"But I miss you. More than I should. More than I let myself admit"

There was a silence then. The kind that doesn’t hurt. The kind that holds you. That breathes between two broken hearts slowly remembering how to beat again.

Your hands were still wrapped around hers, not just offering comfort anymore… but refuge.

"Then come back" you whispered "Not to who you were. Not to before. Just come back to me. I’ll take every piece of you"

Abby didn’t move at first. But then, almost clumsily, she leaned into you. You welcomed her without hesitation, wrapping your arms around her like she could still fit everything she’d lost inside them.

And there, held tightly against your chest, Abby finally let the weight fall. She didn’t scream. She didn’t tremble. She just rested her forehead against your neck… and let the tears slip free. Silent. Warm. Real.

You held her close, as if your arms alone could protect her from the weight of the world. As if that hug could erase every sleepless night, every nightmare she never spoke of, every ounce of guilt she dragged behind her.

"You don’t have to be alone, Abby. Not again.Not with me" you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.

She stayed silent, clinging to you with both arms wrapped tightly around your waist, like she feared you’d disappear if she let go. She breathed deeply, slowly… like it was the first time in weeks she could finally breathe right.

"Thank you…" she murmured against your neck "For still being here. For not giving up on me"

Your hand moved slowly across her back in gentle strokes.

"I never left" you said, and you felt her body shiver slightly at your words.

Abby lifted her eyes to meet yours. Still glassy. Still tired. But there was something different in her expression now. Not relief… but the start of peace. Like a sliver of light slipping into the dark.

"I thought about coming to you so many times" she said softly "But I didn’t know if I still could"

"You always could " you replied, brushing away a stray tear from her cheek with your thumb.

She closed her eyes for a moment, leaning into your touch. And when she opened them again, there was no hesitation left.

Only you. Only her.

The space between you grew smaller. Intimate.

This time, it was Abby who leaned in. Slowly. Like someone afraid of breaking something delicate. And you didn’t pull away.

Her lips brushed against yours like a question.

A quiet apology.

A quiet need.

And you answered with a desperate tenderness, as if that kiss was the only real thing left in a world that had collapsed around you both.

It wasn’t perfect. It trembled. It ached. It was real.

When you finally parted, Abby rested her forehead against yours, her eyes closed, breathing deeply again.

"I didn’t know how much I needed that" she whispered.

"I did" you said, and smiled for the first time that night.

"I missed you" you whispered, as you both curled up together on the cot.

She didn’t say anything back. She just let herself be held, closing her eyes with a shaky breath, as if she could finally set down everything she’d carried alone.

It didn’t take her long to fall asleep, tucked into your arms. And you stayed there, in silence, just watching her face: tired, worn down, marked by all the pain she never said out loud.

You couldn’t help it. A few tears slipped down your cheeks, quiet and slow.

It hurt. It hurt to see her like this. It hurt knowing she had carried it all alone… when she had you.

But now she was back. And you knew that, little by little, with your love, your patience, your care… she would heal. She just needed time.

And you were going to give it to her.

Because some wounds aren’t stitched with thread— They’re mended with patience, with love.

And you… You were always going to be there for her.

[dreamjoymemoir]

two hearts that beat as one.

-anaxagoras is... most definitely a very lonely person. there are very few people who understand him or can be considered close to him, and he feels that he's destined to a solitary search for knowledge. when he contemplates, he does it alone in the shade of the forest, far from others. his nights are cold and lacking the warmth of another person.

-which is to say that when he notices your habit, your search for a heart that isn't yours, he gets where the impulse comes from. physical touch and companionship is important to human beings, he understands--just not him, the martyr for progress. however, seeing you look so lonely reminds him of the lack within his own heart. he grows introspective, pondering the nature of humans to seek out each other and snuggle up for company. such a world has never been his to belong to.

-when you are close to him and touch becomes a regular part of your relationship, he becomes fond of taking your hand and pressing it to his chest. the first time he does it, his pulse starts to race uncomfortably, and he hopes you don't notice the shake in his breath as he feels the exquisite warmth of your hand. "if a heartbeat is what you seek, i am right here. for as long as this frail body of mine walks this earth, my heart is yours." he takes it in stride during subsequent interactions, but there's a softness in his gaze that even he doesn't notice when he sees how his heartbeat soothes you and makes you grow still. if even someone considered so strange and unkind by others can bring you comfort, he thinks, perhaps that's also a kind of magic.

-in the evening after a long day, he lets you rest your head on his chest to hear the sounds of his body. it's a comfort to hear the blood rushing through his heart, and it reminds you that your lover is really and truly here with you. if you haven't seen each other all day, the chill of loneliness melts away once you feel him near. for all he lectures about the soul, sometimes it is really quite simple: the two of you pressed together, alive and filling the spaces in each others' hearts.

[sophies-junkyard]

While he’s still trending, this is your sign to explore Kendrick’s discography. He’s so much bigger than this beef with Drake (and the “beef” is so much bigger than “he hates Drake!” but I’m hoping we all know that by now). Here’s some ideas on where to start:

The GNX album has incredible range . From hype tracks like “Tv off” to the introspection of “reincarnated”. It’s a 10/10 (literally). If you only have the energy for one album, this is a solid pick. It’s a good way to sample what he’s about and see where he’s heading.

After that… I mean for me it’s gotta be Mr. Morale and the Big Steppers. How do I even explain this? People who were surprised by “Meet The Grahams” had CLEARLY never heard “Mother I Sober”. This album will leave you staring at the void in stunned silence. It’ll make you feel empty inside but like… in an addicting way. It’s a masterpiece. If you’re intimidated by the number of songs, I would AT LEAST hear “United in Grief” and “mother I sober”. (Drake directly referenced “mother I sober” in his track “family matters”. He aimed low while ALSO misinterpreting the story like a fucking clown. Embarrassing af lol.)

2015-To Pimp a Butterfly. Depending on who you ask, this is Kendrick’s best work, and uh… yeah it’s hard to disagree. This is Kendrick in his element. A brutally honest examination of racism and violence wrapped in some of his most aggressive vocals to date (and I mean he LITERALLY uses so much growl on these tracks). But the MUSIC is…. chill? It’s also varied as hell. It’s an evening of slam poetry backed by smooth jazz. Then he’ll hit you with a slick guitar riff and some panicked breathing into the mic. The album is crucial to understanding Kendrick as an artist. Picking standouts on this one feels stupid (and everybody has a different opinion) but “Alright” and “King Kunta” are classics. “I”, “How much a dollar cost”, “you ain’t gotta lie”, “the blacker the berry”…. I’m just gonna end up listing every song. I’m also a fan of the“for free-interlude” lol. Oh and “Mortal Man”. I honestly don’t think there are any skippable tracks on this one. Just let it flow.

His 2017 album DAMN was a major success, and was how I got into Kendrick. If high school parking lots came with an OST, “HUMBLE” would’ve been our Green Hill Zone. Idk if that made any sense. Point is, it was popular as fuck. “DNA” was another huge hit. The album sounds edgy and hyped, but the lyrics are an invitation for the audience to like… choose his fate. It’s all about judgement day. Growth, reconciliation, criticism of fame. It’s a shame that it got reduced to “omg humble is a banger!!”. The fact that Uncle Sam shouted at Kendrick to “TIGHTEN UP!” And he performed HUMBLE in response... Damn.

2011- good kid, m.A.A.d city. “Money trees” is a classic with a super chill beat. And the metaphor of “planting money trees” has become a huge part of his identity. Representing his literal desire to share the wealth with his community, and his desire to stay true to his roots. It was ALSO something Drake dissed him for “failing” to do (though his record of philanthropy says otherwise). The titular songs “good kid” and “m.A.A.d city” are iconic. “Swimming Pools” is often cited as his first big hit. Side note: The album cover featured a van (I think it was a Chrysler?) that became a symbol of Kendrick’s career. and Drake fucking destroyed it in one of his music videos. Bitch.

There’s so much. He also has a series of 6 songs called “the heart” that usually drop before a new album. He has a ton of other albums that I didn’t even mention because this post is way too long. I know I skipped a lot of bangers so please let me know about them. Also this post 100% assumes everyone has heard “6:16 in LA”, “Euphoria”, “meet the grahams” and “not like us” because… I mean come on. Ok that’s all. happy listening!

[fxrmuladaydreams]

jim and pam (sv5) (dr3)

pornstar!seb x pornstar/camgirl!reader , pornstar!daniel x pornstar/camgirl!reader

summary: who would’ve thought an episode of the office would make you feel so introspective

notes: this one’s short, i’m sorry

prev part next part

Things had become odd after your day spent with Sebastian. It was like there was a new energy surrounding you.

Sebastian was great, really. He was sweet, flirty yet still respectful. You honestly wanted nothing more than to grab him by his shoulders and plant a kiss against his lips. It also didn’t help that his channel hadn’t had any new videos posted to it as of late.

You didn’t want to assume that this was some grand gesture of his devotion to you, but a part of you still hoped. You hoped that you were the reason he wasn’t seeing other women, that he was actively choosing to spend his time with you as opposed to spending it filming with other people.

You find yourself seeking him out regularly, longing for his attention, and he’s more than happy to give it to you. Lunches turn into movie nights turn into sleepovers turn into making breakfast together in the kitchen.

That’s how you find yourself seated on the couch, with Sebastian on the other side of it. You’ve both got plates of food on your lap, and are facing each other while the television plays in the background. You had decided that you should watch something together while you ate, and you picked The Office. It was funny, something simple enough that you didn’t really need to focus on it, you could just relish in the presence of each other.

It plays in the background as you nudge your food around your plate. Sebastian keeps his eyes locked on the television.

“Why doesn’t Jim realize that he should be with Pam?” He asks, not necessarily looking for an answer.

You shrug. “Maybe he’s happy with Karen. I mean, I think he and Pam are perfect together, but it’s possible for him to be happy with someone else too.”

Sebastian turns to look at you, then moves to fully face you. “You think that’s possible? That someone could be so in love, so perfect for someone else, and that they could just ignore those feelings while they’re with someone else?” He raises a brow.

You suddenly feel like you’re no longer talking about The Office. You had always felt comfortable around Sebastian, from very early on. He made it clear that he cared about you, until he pushed you away. Were you making a mistake entertaining the idea of being with Daniel instead?

“I think at this point it’s a right person, wrong time sort of situation for them.” You tell him softly.

He nods. “But that doesn’t mean they can’t fix it in the future. See if they were truly meant to end up together?” He smiles. He turns back to the television when you don’t answer him.

The rest of breakfast is spent quietly watching The Office, and cleaning up the kitchen together.

Sebastian gives you a soft smile just before leaving. “Always a pleasure schatz.” He presses a soft kiss to your cheek, leaving you at your door.

Daniel comes over just before lunch. You try to expel the awkward air between you from the other day, allowing him to be more affectionate, but not possessive.

Unlike with Sebastian, he keeps his arms wrapped around you on the couch, practically holding you on top of him.

You close your eyes as you rest your head against his chest. You focus on the soft steady beating of his heart, the heart that he’s openly given to you.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head sweetheart?” He asks, running a hand along your back.

You lift your head to look up at him. He smiles down at you, his dark eyes shining in the light coming in from the window.

“Nothing. Just enjoying this. Being here with you.” You tell him.

He grins, his arms squeezing you a little tighter for a moment. “I’m enjoying this too.”

You fiddle with your hands as you watch Daniel gather his things before leaving. He tugs his hoodie back on over his head, and grabs his keys off your counter.

“Daniel?” You ask, following him to the door.

“Yes sweetheart?”

You rock back and forth on your heels. “Maybe, you could just spend the night? It’s getting late, and I don’t mind having you over.” Your words are quiet, like you’re almost afraid of saying them out loud.

He nods. “I’ll stay. But only if you’re sure you want me to.”

“I want you to.”

He drops his keys back on the counter, and follows you to your room. He pulls his hoodie back off, then begins to pull his shirt off too.

“Is this okay? I usually just sleep in my boxers… If not I can just sleep in my jeans.”

You shake your head. “No, it’s fine.” You try not to stare as Daniel strips in front of you.

Your phone screen lights up with a notification. It’s a goodnight text from Sebastian. You respond quickly before putting your phone face down on your bedside table.

You start off on opposite sides of the bed, but quickly feel Daniel’s arm wrap around you, pulling you against him. His soft snoring proves that it was a subconscious move, that he probably had no intention of possibly stepping over a line when you invited him to stay the night.

However, you’re the one who feels trapped between a rock and a hard place. Well, Daniel’s chest, and the phone sitting two feet away from you. You know you have to make a choice, but feel torn between the two men who’ve chosen to love you. You just have to hope that you pick the right one.

[the-monkeies-girl]

*crying into my crunchwrap supreme* dont look AT ME imagine the ape men feeling their baby move for the first time im not OKAY

Caesar is admiring the growing bump you have on display, your body propped up against the side of the rounded nest. You're using an animal pelt as a make-shift pillow against your shoulders for comfort as the Ape King raises his hand and lightly places it on the underside of your tummy, caressing it almost completely with one hand. Letting out a small sigh, you peep over at him with one eye open before closing it again, teetering on the brink of sleep yourself as the fire is crackling a happily dying tune in front of the two of you.

This was becoming a popular pastime for the two of you in the later evenings when you were tangled in the nest together and you were refusing to sleep. Caesar… Remarked in silence often of how incredible it was that your body was able to withstand the growing nature of a child. Not just any… He felt the hackles on his shoulders rise with abundant pride. His. Yours. Together.

"That feels good..." Your voice is nothing more than a soft whisper echoing into the quiet air to praise the way that the Ape was caressing your stretching skin so delicately, only stopping here and there to trace discernable figures against you and causing a tickling vibration which earned him a cute and softened smile of adoration. "Hm." Caesar mutters deeply inside of his chest, continuing his movement as rubs upwards, his calloused fingers against your smooth skin feeling too good to describe for either of you. Right to the top of your bump, brushing his knuckles right at the underside of your breasts in the meantime while Caesar ate up the giggle it got him without hesitation. Breathing in slowly, you feel sleep coming right around the corner, your head lulling to the side. You’d need to readjust for the rest of the night, you knew that but a quick doze off didn't sound too bad after what you and Caesar just wrapped up a few minutes ago---

You're jolting awake. Faster than you can comprehend and nearly bump your forehead onto Caesar's feeling the fluttering against the harder skin of your mate. "D---... did you feel that?!" Caesar is silent in front of you, green eyes locked on where he was making contact on your stomach before his large palm rubbed once more to garner both of you a soft tugging at your skin in the direction of the heated touch. "Child...?" "They just moved!"

You can see the cogs turning in Caesar's head as he processes what he is feeling and what he heard you say. "Baby----"

"They're moving!" You can't contain your excitement, sleep far off in the distance now as you rest your hand on top of your mates and whisper softly to the Ape, "Strong... You can definitely tell it's yours." You tease and Caesar's lips fall into a flat line as if to say 'I sure hope it is' as you bless him with a cheeky grin. "I... Think they like the way you're holding them." Caesar drew a deep and tentative breath in and rubbed the top of your belly once more to garner another small shuffle from the baby as you were tickled by the thickets of fur around his wrist. Finally--- Caesar cracked the smallest of smiles and chuffed out of his nostrils from minor exhilaration, heart beating quickly in his chest. Female Apes carried too small for fetal movements to be felt so aggressively. This was so... New to him as he continues to rub, going downwards to the side and marveling in a small spoken moment of introspection dueling with a compliment.

"Amazing..."

Genuinely, you were unsure of how your feet were moving so quickly. It seemed each step that you were taking was catapulting you just a bit faster, your hand resting on the top of your protruding stomach as your gaze was set scanning the Village for the Master of the Birds himself. It felt like haze, your gawk starting at the Eagle Enclosure itself and unable to detect any movement in the high nest there before you scooted towards the meadow adjacent. Nope, not there. 

You hoped--- Biting your bottom lip, you began moving towards Dar who was taking care of the Young Chimps as usual, her blue shawl something familiar for you to gravitate towards. You hoped that Noa had not taken the afternoon off to go fishing with Anaya and Soona - Something you weren’t fond of doing yourself as the Summer Heat was smoldering as it was and adding the delicate fact that you were pregnant? You’d rather lounge under a tree and take a spotty nap. And that’s where you had been- Against a tree, dozing in and out of consciousness as the leaves rustled their shapes against the parts of your body that were bare when you felt a small fluttering in your stomach. Unsure, you sat up and waited for it to pass but it happened again and led you to this moment. Searching for your Mate for him to experience what you had before the growing baby in your stomach decided to relax for the rest of the evening.

“Dar,” Smiling graciously at the older Female, she greeted you with a brisked smile of her own, casing your forearm and drifting you inwards to press your foreheads together which you accepted gratefully, “Have you seen No---...” Freezing, you felt a chuckle of delight cater towards the back of your throat, “The baby---... Is--- Moving! I want him to---” Your Mother-In-Law chortled a small laugh as she nodded, cupping the bottom of your rounded bump and felt the movement for herself, “Strong, like Noa. He… Should be here… Soon. Went with Anaya and Soona---” You groaned under your breath and nodded in understanding, “I don’t know how much longer they’re going to keep moving.” You joked and pressed your forehead once more to Dar’s as a departure, “If you see him, let him know I’m looking for him.” And with that, you were off once more, your bare feet feeling good against the ground below as you trudged into the tall grass of the meadow. “Noa!” Sighing in relief upon seeing the three familiar bodies of the Sunset Trio, your Mate was quickly at your side having used all four of his appendages to move, tossing his fishing gear at Anaya who fumbled it as Soona laughed. “Something… is wrong?” There was evident worry in his voice at your presence and the stance of which you were standing. 

Shaking your head, your face broke out into a smile and you were fast to grasp at his right hand and placed it gently against the top rounding of your bump. “Do not understa---” They moved as if on command, drifting upwards towards the casing that Noa’s hot and calloused hand gave against the fabric of your stretched t-shirt. “Did you feel that?”

Noa narrowed his lush green eyes down where he was making contact and felt it once more, this time a bit more aggressively before hooting outwardly towards Soona and Anaya. They came to his side, excited by the desperation of Noa’s call in the first place. “They are… Moving!”Soona gasped and looked towards you, “Moving?”

Nodding happily, you could not tear your eyes off of Noa as he rubbed softly, bunching the fabric of your shirt a bit but the exposure was not a problem. Even when Anaya and Soona reached forward, arguing amongst themselves as to who wanted to feel it first after Noa. Smiling at him, you watched with gratefulness as he ignored the two other Apes and leaned inwards to kiss your forehead with his own. The action told you everything you needed to know. The love and adoration swirled wildly.

You desperately hated when Blue Eyes was gone for so long. But you understood why and never sought to complain about it, spending your days with Lake instead to keep you company when he was torn into the politics that Caesar had established and needed to scout out a new promised land for the Colony itself. It had been days, you thought to yourself with a dreary sigh, giving your friend a small smile of appreciation as Lake had offered you to take a seat and work on some twine rather than moving around with the Young, on your feet. You had no idea when Blue Eyes and Rocket were meant to return, there surely was no way to know when the mission was to find a new promised land where the Apes could live free.

 Where… You… Could live free, you thought, lightly placing your hand on the top of your growing baby bump. How hesitant he had been to leave in the first place, your eyes watery as you felt his forehead cased against yours as you encouraged him that it would be alright - that you and the baby would be alright the few days that he was expected to be gone. Caesar even ensured with the help of Cornelia that you would be cared and looked after but that didn't help watching the Ape Prince leave--- Commotion pulled your train of thought away and you didn't finish it to completion as you looked towards Lake who hooted in your direction. ‘They are back!’ She signed for you in silence, favoring that language rather than speaking. Feeling your heart flutter in your chest, you grinned happily and accepted the help from her as she was quick to assist you rising from your spot. Not needed, but Lake was considerate of your busting mid section and what it meant to the Colony as the whole.

First Hybrid, first child for their Prince. They were going to be revered regardless of their lineage on the Mother’s side. ‘Go, go. I will… dismiss the children.’ She urged you forward, your feet careful against the slick rock as you smiled a soft ‘thank you’.

There was more movement than you anticipated, your eyes trying to scan the rock inlay of where the Colony resided for the time being. Almost two years, if you recalled correctly, holding your hand out to steady yourself as you walked down the sloped ground. It felt like you were going to fly off the handle having caught eyes with Cornelia who signed delicately towards her Son at your arrival, making frantic eye contact with the only set of irises that were different than any other. Ones that you fell in love with, breathless at the confident gait he used coming towards you.

‘Good trip?’ You signed with a small chuckle as Blue Eyes raised his hand and cupped the back of your head. No need for small talk, he told you and brought your forehead towards his own and out of reflex, your eyelids fluttered shut and you let his harder brow ridge line against yours. 

“You… Have… gotten bigger.” Blue Eyes was rare to use his speaking voice though in the time that you two had known each other, his stride with phrases had gotten much better and cohesive. Before you, there really was no need for vocals but the Chimp knew you liked it as he dropped the large hand from your head, still catering against your forehead and placed it against the side of your stretching tummy. 

“Not that much bigger,” You giggled softly, enjoying the sensation of his breath against your face that was hard and longed, needing to consume as much of you as possible as Blue Eyes began tendering his calloused fingers along the side of your bump. “It was only… a few days…” 

“Too long.” He uttered, pulling away to let his gaze fall onto the contact he had on your body. Hopefully more soon, Blue Eyes thought to himself and trailed his expanded hand against the front, gliding across your belly button and stopping at the slightest motion of movement which… Was not the sensation that he got when you chuckled upon him tickling you. This was… different… Subtle… ‘They… are moving?’ His signing was frantic as you grinned widely, nodding your head in confirmation as your Mate traced right around your belly button and garnered himself a small shift.

‘Started a day ago.’

‘Never leaving you again,’ Blue Eyes was adamant in his choice of words as he felt the fluttering once more, this time a bit more aggressively as he pressed his palm inwards a bit. It appeared the baby was not a fan, or maybe they were as they were now kicking in a pattern against Blue Eyes’s heady touch. ‘Never want to miss… another moment… like this.’

Koba could tell from the rising and subsequent fall of your shoulder that you were asleep. As if your ajar mouth drooling slightly,  face pressing against the arm that you had tucked under it wasn’t enough of an indication as you were laying on your side and the Bonobo was able to get a pretty good view of your expression. He wasn’t the biggest fan of letting you sleep in his nest…--- Well, Koba narrowed his good eye on you and felt a huff leave his broad chest as he tied a spearhead to a shaft of wood. No, there was no argument. Despite your… fragile human condition that he ultimately put you in out of desire, this was still his nest and you laying naked in it was not going to change. It was not yours despite your resting body, despite the trailing of your own animal pelts that you brought from your own hut. This was still his, Koba’s. Snarling softly, he tightened the spearhead aggressively and enjoyed the sensation of the twine digging into his calloused fingers before it clattered against the ground. 

Hunching down onto all fours, he drifted with ease across the room in contemplation. He could wake you up and tell you to leave, wouldn’t be the first time. It was the preference really, Koba was not keen on sharing it with you. The way that you breathed was enough to drive him to a sense of innate craze, not to mention the tag-along you now had… Koba stared at your face for a few seconds, the trail of drool you had against your cheek was pooling and it was amusing bait to use in an argument. Koba locked that away, dragging with disgust the way that your shoulders were bare. You weren’t even able to get the animal hide around you to keep you warm before you fell asleep, you reckless Human. With a snort towards you, Koba climbed his way into the nest. Not carefully enough, you stirred awake and groaned.

“Leave” He uttered at you and flickered his eyes to your bustling stomach that was exposed to the air. “Not allowed to sleep… In Koba’s nest… Make it smell like… Human.” The tone was snarling around the edges but deeper in if you were in a more lucid state you’d hear the antagonistic tear of endearment.

Koba snorted again, this time more aggressively near your face as you chose to rest your head back down and grumble something that was discernible. You were fast back asleep, Koba letting you drift away in front of him as he grunted and lifted the animal pelts that were resting by your feet upwards to capsize against your naked form. Koba despised it. The dips and curves of your bare flesh. What was the point of having no fur? Absolutely stupid, he thinks, lingering the pelt upwards enough so the Ape was able to see your stomach for a few seconds longer. Absolutely… Stupid… For letting Koba do that to you, the stretching of your stomach is apparent even in the dim flickering light that he kept his fire at when residing inside of the nest. Never too bright, Koba did not like the strain it caused his one good eye. 

You had let him do that and you let him continue, Koba had no idea why when he held such disdain towards your pure human form. The way your hair fell, the way your lips pursed in your sleep, the smell that wafted off of you even though it was clearly mixed with his own… “Human.” He tapped your shoulder with his free hand which you waved away. “Need to leave now!”

“Let me sleep, fucking Bonobo. You did this to me.” You were half asleep, placing a hand on your growing stomach and lightly traced the smoothed skin as if to tease the fact that Koba was always going to have a tie to you no matter how much he tried to deny it. “The… They’re sleeping too…” “Impossible for you to know!” “They move.”

Koba got quiet and drew the blanket back downwards instead of draping it against you as he thought of kindness and argued against it. “What… do you mean?” “They move.” “They do not.” “Show Koba.” “I’m trying to sleep.” “Show.”

Growling in a way that sounded innately Ape, you were propping yourself up onto your side and grasped at his hand in your half-asleep state and placed it ardently to the side of your bump. “Shut up and feel.” 

There was sleep drawing in your words as Koba fought against your hand, refusing the contact for he was not the one to initiate it until his palm flattened against your smoothed skin. Koba snarled at you, looking at the contact he had that was not thrusted with passion. It was… Gentle… The way that your fingers cascaded against his own and kept them placed. 

“Do not feel---”

Koba’s statement ended abruptly at the tug he felt against his otherwise toughened hand. No immediate reaction was given as you rested your head back down and let him trail along freely. If Koba chose, he could tear away from it now but… He did not.  Stagnantly, Koba allowed his hand to expand against your stomach so he was able to cradle it with all of his fingers. There it was again, Koba's gaze slightly more ample but not noticeable to you as you had your eyes shut for the semblance of the vulnerable moments. Koba shifted ever so slightly, tugging his feet inwards as the Bonobo yearned for a bit more. Would... Would pressing harder get him more? Koba considered it but your voice tore through the air instead.

“Do you feel that?”

“No.” He was quick to respond and snapped his hand back, squeezing the fingers shut into a fist as Koba felt the uncomfortable pull in his chest as his heart had quickened for no good reason, “You… Sleep here tonight but no other night, stupid… Human!”

[majinael]

Unspoken Agreement.

★Michael Kaiser x GN Reader

★738 words

I was a trained athlete, so it was only natural for me to frequent the best gym in the city—one renowned for attracting professional athletes. It was my sanctuary, a place where like-minded people pushed themselves to their limits. Yet, despite the familiarity of the crowd, I never expected a simple mishap to change my routine.

It happened on an unremarkable day. My water bottle slipped from my grip and rolled across the polished gym floor, stopping at the feet of someone I hadn’t noticed before. As I walked over to retrieve it, I glanced up—and my heart skipped a beat. His face was arresting, framed by sharp features and hair tipped with blue, yet it was his eyes that struck me most. They shimmered like the ocean, deep and endless. How had I missed someone like him in a place I came to daily?

“Thanks,” I said as he handed me the bottle. Desperate to prolong the encounter, I played my go-to card. “Have we met before? You look familiar.”

A flicker of amusement passed over his face. “You must know me. I’m the best football player in the world.”

I blinked, caught off guard by his audacity. But then he launched into a confident monologue, listing his accolades and exploits as we wandered the gym floor. He was unapologetically self-assured, yet something about his tone had me hooked—like he wanted me to believe every word.

When my alarm buzzed, signaling the end of my workout window, I excused myself reluctantly. “It was nice finally talking to someone here,” I said, waving goodbye. His proud smirk lingered in my mind for the rest of the day.

The next day, he was there again, standing near the spot where my bottle had fallen. It was almost as if he was waiting. I seized the chance, greeting him with a teasing smile. “Well, isn’t that the best football player in the world?”

His grin widened, and for the next three hours, we trained and chatted, slipping into an easy rhythm that felt... effortless.

For a month, this pattern continued, a series of “coincidences” that became a fixture in my routine. Most of our conversations were light—surface-level musings that didn’t venture too deep—but there was an undercurrent to him I couldn’t ignore. His personality was a kaleidoscope, shifting between cocky bravado and moments of quiet introspection.

And those eyes—those mesmerizing blue eyes—told a story he refused to share. There was something heartbreakingly sad in them, a vulnerability he kept tightly guarded. I wanted to ask, but I never did. Instead, I spoke enough for the both of us, hoping to draw him out, even if only a little.

I’m not in love, I told myself. I can’t be.

But my heart wasn’t so easily convinced.

One day, I forgot my gym access card—a result of my pet’s antics with my bag. By the time I’d retrieved it and returned to the gym, I was fifteen minutes late, sweaty and annoyed with myself. As I scanned the room for him, the frustration melted away.

There he was, his tall, lean frame drenched in sweat, blue-tipped hair clinging to his forehead. He stood by a machine, staring at his watch with an expression that tugged at something deep inside me. Was that disappointment?

When I approached, his usual cocky grin softened into something genuine. It was small, almost imperceptible, but I saw it—and my heart betrayed me, twisting in ways I didn’t understand.

“You’re later than usual,” he teased, his voice lighter than his expression had been moments before.

“Forgot my card,” I replied, trying to keep my tone casual.

He smirked, “If you wanted to use this machine, you could have just asked, instead of.. staring, you know.”

I rolled my eyes and stepped forward, determined to prove myself and erase from his mind the idea I was just staring at him. But the truth betrayed me—I had no clue in the world on how to use the machine properly. He caught on instantly, of course, and his teasing was relentless.

“I knew you smarter than that,” he chuckled, shaking his head with that all-knowing look of his.

But even as he mocked me, I couldn’t stop watching him. His laughter, his confidence, even the way he leaned against the equipment—it all drew me in. And when he turned his head to meet my gaze, I realized I was no longer standing on the edge of those ocean eyes.

I was drowning.

HIIII! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE LOVE AND SUPPORT YOU’VE SHOWN FOR MY PREVIOUS STORIES—IT TRULY MEANS THE WORLD TO ME AS I WRITE PURELY FOR FUN, SO I NEVER EXPECTED TO RECEIVE SO MUCH KINDNESS AND ENTHUSIASM FROM ALL OF YOU. IT’S THE HOLIDAYS NOW, SO I’LL DO MY BEST TO WRITE AS REGULARLY AS I CAN DURING THIS TIME. STAY TUNED FOR MORE STORIES, AND THANK YOU AGAIN! XOXO<333 (also animated Kaiser YAAAAAAY)

[randomfoggytiger]

"About Time": randomfoggytiger's Review

About Time floated in today on a wave of intrigue.

CONTENTS

This book is weighted with the past: David Duchovny's previously published work alongside other older poems on love and ruin. More present-day eurekas are mixed in rather fluidly; and the whole shifts 'round together-- an Unconscious's kaleidoscope.

The main themes continually wind back to David's early personhood: an erosion of security, a seeking of epiphany. Clinging to love in all its forms and bringing it forward with him, he dwells on family bonds, touches on friendships, and calls forth various fantasized persons and notions under ever-evolving names.

Poems from his childhood bind him in caregiver language to his parents: though he compassionately describes their dysfunction-- ala "Do Over"--

(an excerpt)

And when the train sometimes slowed, I imagined jumping off unseen between stations and walking into these strange towns, leaving my parents behind, a ten-year-old city boy knocking on a Long Island door, saying, "I am a citizen of the world, take me, rename me; I'll mow the lawn, do the dishes, wear the hand-me-downs, whatever."

As each second passed, geography would change my fate. Every moment brought new towns, new families. New lives. Those were the days.

But I never did step off. No, I don't think I ever did.

--and "Evergreen" and "Dead Seven" and "Memory Palace" and "Rest in Peace, Fred Hellerman" and "Nobodaddy Home" and "Gratitude"-- the minimization of his needs compelled his search for a hero who would take him in and change his life.

A second set of poems weaves in the rise and fall of his marriage-- his desperation for a savior tangling with joy and love.

"Do Over" begins this exploration, starting from the hope of a long and happy life to the roots of those hopes in childhood. "Paper Beats Rock" chronicles the period of addiction with similes, a heart in a trench coat facing hard time for its comfortably destructive, substance-less habits. "Dragnet Spec" argues for an explanation of nuance that the world's black-and-white dismissal so often discredits. "Heads or Tails" details the need to be saved while "How Does It Go?" and "Hope you're god..." illustrates the searing pain of separation and slow acceptance.

(An excerpt of "Heads or Tails.")

To make the inside outside is the key. To notify the folks of a change in my address, I throw a rock through the window and prowl long-forgotten corridors, inhaling primal odors of cat, Lysol, brussels sprouts-- hearing the old silver radiator hissing and clanking like a sinking ship, and my own small self, and my brother, conspiring amid the enamel, beard rubs, and unlockable doors, I realize-- I am looking for a wife.

There are three poems of his children: one poignantly bittersweet ("Carbon Canyon"), another darkly anguished ("It Wasn't the Knife")--

Your mother helped me with the disguise makeshift, a sheet, pantyhose over face, a butter knife from the kitchen, whatever. It was Halloween and you were seven.

Crouching there in the dark, wondering in future perfect regret if this was a bad idea-- too much? How was I to know that it wasn't the knife-- that my hands and head were full of a destruction more real and lasting?

--and a third distantly "shot" through a director's lens ("Long-Shot Man".) All follow through the narrative with doting, aching heartbreak.

A fourth theme is DD's personal introspective thoughts: a catch-all for his struggles and connection.

Demons, God, Nature, and a simple book are all bound together in an aspect of mankind the author observes and fears: that of someone left behind, the past erased-- meaningful relationships ("Hope you're god...") and little friends ("Another Brick") and present failures ("Professional Demons" and "I Say No") and swaths of personal history ("Hardcover") too easily forgotten in man's simultaneous search for future novelty ("Homesick for Mystery") and single-minded perpetuation of the past ("God Is a Changed Man.")

(An excerpt from "Hardcover.")

And when I open, find whole chapters ripped out by the handful, pages and pages torn as if by some mad editor, or censorious librarian, or jealous god. Impossible to make out a story or follow a thread--

Something about kissing, then the rest is missing.

Yet, an awe of breathtaking abstraction-- unique and heartfelt beauty-- surfaces in even the darkest lines: nature in metaphor, allegory, simile, analogy catches up with keen and busy witticisms, juggling alongside like an old pro.

A COMBINATION OF THEMES

One poem caught my attention in its beautifully complete simplicity: "Haven", a tribute to a friend (who I believe is Maggie Wheeler.) It fits together each spoke of Duchovny's wheel-- proof that not everything is doomed for mayhem and ruin.

MY THOUGHTS

Each section was relatively short-- stretching to at most four pages-- and tender. Sorrowful. Hefty. Lighter, punchier pieces were still tempered with an elegiac undertow.

Nothing was too cheesy (though DD is a lover of good cheese.) Nothing was too limiting, censorious, high-minded, or arrogant. In fact, the book strove hard in the opposite direction: outreaching, excessively soul-searching. And perhaps a touch obsessive-- a pursuit without end, one the poet diagnoses in "Ah, Cleverness!":

(An excerpt)

You always imagined you were meant to go deeper, always in training, your lungs and receptors for the other world. It was the justification for your ornery solitude and though you were really gone elsewhere you never really "went there"-- knowing in the blueprint of your mind that this was Kafka's door that you waited outside for, meant for only you, and the sole way it swings is in, in swinging shut; you shall know thyself by where you cannot let yourself go.

There were many parts that grabbed me; but three, today, stand out: Duchovny's "Introduction: A Poetic Autobiography"-- a thoughtful think piece-- and "Moonrise"-- which arrested my attention within the first two stanzas:

The earth's first love, torn from his side as in Genesis, the moon fashioned from a rib of severed Eden.

Captured in distant ellipses, sometimes nearer, as often not, no closer to breaking away than giving in. A stasis of chaos.

--and "Memory Palace", which turned my mind back on itself:

You must approach me as you would a ruin, twisted logic riven in the stone.

The eccentric architecture whispers rumor of trauma and whimsy, semi-truths distorted echo in warping wood-- A ruination: half designed by man, half by mad decay.

This book examines David Duchovny's timid, wounded, idealistic side: while he may publicly sing about staying on the train, the scenery will change, he privately ruminates on boyish fantasies of hopping off and starting completely new. He stretches out for deeper connection while feeling sucked back into the empty belly of Los Angeles. He mothers his parents and catastrophizes his inadequacies as a father. He desires to be seen but shrinks away from cold-blooded trauma inspectors.

The more personal the piece, the more universal its art.

As David writes in his introduction:

I imagine writing for an unborn audience, my readers reanimating me when I am no longer here. A poem is like a possession of the reader, the poet's mind inhabiting the reader's mind, the dead poet's mind thinking the reader's mind, taking it over for a spell, and for a spell the poet lives again; eternity is possible. A type of zombie. All poems are poems about death. All poems are about love and death. ...

A great lyric is not a great poem, and yet, and yet, lyrics have the undeniable merit of necessary restraint, the gorgeous limitations and humility of the form. And the mysterious pleasures and disciplines of rhyme. They have their own thing to offer.

But it is exactly that humble spirit of gorgeous limitations in which I offer these poems. The spirit of uselessness and beauty. The spirit of memory and forgetting and of thresholds honored and crossed. My deepest hope, one I'm a fool for saying out loud, is that they give you nothing of worldly worth and you can't get enough of them.

David Duchovny

6/1/25

Disclaimer: What is a good poem? Whatever it is, these definitely hold their own.

[dustedmagazine]

The Ex — If Your Mirror Breaks (The Ex)

The world needs The Ex, now more than ever. For 45 years, the Dutch post-punk trailblazers have loudly and frantically defied capitalist oppression with a militant message, focusing klieg lights on the cracks in our geopolitical system. With unflagging fervor, they hold up a mirror to inequality and social injustice. Their music, rife with punk energy and an exploratory spirit, is just as radical as their words. Today the band’s communiqués are less frequent, but their music and their motivating force are just as powerful. What once was a raging firehose of primitive fury has become a nuanced and poetic juggernaut, always growing and moving forward.

If Your Mirror Breaks is The Ex presenting a sense of eclecticism. Over the decades, they’ve gathered many diverse stylistic influences and wrapped them into their sound, like a katamari rolling along picking up objects from across time and around our globe. Congolese, Ethiopian and Eastern European vibes diffuse through the band’s post punk bedrock, which is peppered with free improv witchery. They are persistent in their quest to incorporate new approaches to music, and this has led them to collaborators as diverse as Instant Composers Pool, Sonic Youth, Getatchew Mekuria, Tom Cora and Tortoise. This album shows off the band’s decades-long adventure with ten songs of drums, guitars, and vocals that poke out in various directions to snag our attention.

Opening track “Beat Beat Drums” embraces sonic diversity with a sense of irony and playfulness that defies its deadly serious lyrical content. Drummer Katherina Bornefeld lays down a Bo Diddley beat, but adds a militaristic edge to it, while Arnold de Boer satirizes a Walt Whitman poem by delivering the war chant in a child’s skipping rhyme cadence. Slashing guitars coalesce into a whirlwind of string noise courtesy of de Boer, Andy Moor and Terrie Hessels. This juxtaposition of styles and use of naivete in exploring heavy themes serves to couch the message in an accessible but engaging sonic framework. The band softens its blow without pulling any punches.  

This subterfuge — sneaking heavy themes into popular song forms — continues with songs like “The Evidence,” “Spider and Fly,” “In the Rain” and “Great!” Existential introspection has also become a thematic concern for The Ex. Katherina Bornefeld’s lone vocal performance on “The Wheel” describes her observance of the never-ending changes occurring both within her and in the world around her. In the end, she’s hopeful that “new life force unfolds for those who flow with the song of their souls.” Arnold de Boer is equally optimistic on “Circuit Breaker,” proclaiming that “what I will carry inside will be an ever glowing heart to chase all hatred away.” Both vocalists deliver their observations against dirge-like musical backdrops that serve to heighten the poignancy of the lyrics.

If Your Mirror Breaks epitomises The Ex’s consistent forward motion and evolution. It also solidifies their position as observers of our fractured society. Theirs is a voice that remains essential, as the world’s out of control spiral of injustice accelerates in all directions, with no end in sight. May The Ex’s mirror never break.

Bryon Hayes

[thebardisabird]

I've been on a little thought train of s/o's learning each others cultures so I gotta know your take on how the matsus would react to their s/o saying "I love you" in Japanese 💙

Hi my friend, I know you're taking a break from Ososan right now, but I was feeling a type of way about this prompt and wanted to answer this. I hope it's okay if we kind of go the route of this being the first time you say it to them. Lots of fluff, and a little bit of angst here and there but they all end happily! Under the cut!

Osomatsu would actually panic, completely bypassing the fact that you're actually learning his mother tongue. Though he presents himself as a very carefree kind of guy, the idea of love - real, true love, is a very deep feeling that he's a little afraid of facing. He may slip up and say something less graceful like "Same!" or "Me too!" and quite frankly he won't understand your disappointment at first. But after discussing it with his brothers, who all tell him he's a fucking MORON for responding that way, he actually does some real introspective work and realizes that's he's being incredibly dumb for not being able to say it back off the bat. Of course he loves you. So the next time he sees you, he'll ask you nonchalantly to repeat that new phrase you learned recently, and with some hesitance you do. He smirks with some softness, faces you, and repeats your words back to you.

Karamatsu sings your praises of learning Japanese, knowing very well that you both are trying to learn each others' language. It will take him a minute to register exactly what you've said, but when it does, he pauses. His face is blank for a second; at first you think you've said something wrong (or possibly even said it too soon), but then you see the tears corner in his eyes. Now he has you panicking, but he takes your hands before you even know what to do with them. He'll ask you "...Me?...Are you sure?" and it reminds that you that for as confident as he seems, Karamatsu does have his insecurities. It almost breaks your heart at his question of disbelief. But you reassure him, hand to his cheek and say it again. To which he wilts, letting a tear or two fall as he takes you in his arms and tells you how happy he is you feel the same.

Choromatsu is so excited that you're learning more and more phrases! He understands that Japanese isn't an easy language to learn so he's very keen on helping you out as much as possible. Like his older brother however, he too doesn't realize what you'd said right away. His face immediately drops into that signature blank Matsuno stare when it registers. He promptly grabs some q-tips, fiercely cleaning his ears before insisting he heard you wrong and asking you to repeat yourself. When you attempt to he screams for you to stop, "I'M NOT READY, WAIT WAIT WAIT!" and he turns his back to you, face in hands. It goes on this way for a few minutes before you decided to tell him to forget what you said - clearly what you've said bothers him. Surprisingly he grasps your hand before you can turn away, his grip unsure, but still clasped around you. "Me too...I...love you too." His back is still turned to you as he says this, but you can hear it in his voice that he's sincere. What you don't see is the half-lidded gaze of relief under his palm, and the cherry red blush dusting his cheeks.

Ichimatsu right away is taken aback by your words. So much so that his hand comes to his drumming chest in an act to stop his heart from beating out of his ribcage. He backs away from you, looking almost insulted. There's a very clear internal struggle within him as he can't properly process your words of affection. So instead, he runs. Undoubtedly you're confused and a little upset, not quite expecting him to turn tail on you at your exclamation of love in his native language. You know Ichimatsu well enough to know that what he needs most is space. The rest of the day the poor fourth born needs to constantly be held at bay from bashing his head through the walls of the Matsuno household. All of his siblings reassure him that he can still fix things. How could he run from you when you told him you loved him? He felt like the scum of the earth. Would you even forgive him? Of course you wouldn't, who was he kidding. The chatter of self-depreciation drowned out his thoughts so deafeningly that he hadn't even realized you had made your way to his home. It wasn't until your arms had circled around his back and your chin tucked at his shoulder that he was shaken back to presence; and then it hits him. You love him. You love him. You spend time with him. You make him laugh. In your arms he feels relaxed, safe even. How could he...? His forehead leans wearily against your shoulder. You begin to apologize for making uncomfortable, but before more than a few words escape you he cuts you off with his own expression of love. It's quiet and muffled, but you hear him. The sweet silence that follows is filled with nothing but comfort.

Jyushimatsu basically shouts about how really good your pronunciation is! He's happy that you're learning Japanese as he wants to be able to have full conversations with you as much as he can. He's not aloof however, he knows exactly what you said. That's why in less than a minute you're lifted into his arms, being tossed ceremoniously a few times before your face is littered with kisses. His normally bright personality shines at another level at your loving words. He presses a few more kisses to your face before exclaiming that he loves you the same in Japanese alongside you. It's an exchange that leaves you both feeling on cloud nine for the remainder of the day.

Todomatsu opens his mouth to say something, but instead tries to bite back an overjoyed smile. Deciding to be cheeky he responds with, "I'm sorry, I don't think I heard you, can you say that again?" You think at first he actually didn't hear what you said you repeat yourself, but after he asks you to reiterate what you said, you quickly catch on. That doesn't deter you though and you play him at his own game. It doesn't take long before he ends up almost as pink as his wardrobe, laughing softly before he stops you from repeating yourself one more time. Instead he asks you out of the blue if you want to take a selfie with him. You're caught off guard by the request, but you oblige, posing with him. Just before he snaps the pic, you feel lips press to your cheek. In the softest voice he can muster he whispers his own words of affection in Japanese. When he pulls away it's your turn to wear some color on your cheeks whilst Todomatsu raves about how adorable your selfie came out.

[writings-of-leo]

NorthSonic short #1

this was written after the first two episodes and has been sitting in my drafts ever since, has also not been finished but I wanna put it somewhere at least

Its North centered, and more introspection Side note: this was written right after episode 3 dropped, so with no knowledge on how they progress after that point

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

North huffed in complaint as Alan gave Jeff a pass. „Double standards, huh?“, he exclaimed. He wasn‘t really upset. It just sometimes got to him. Especially on a day like this. It has been a year since Way got killed, 10 months since Sonic left for France, leaving North to fend for himself.

Surrounded by couples he didn‘t always know what to do with himself. While they tried to include him, Alan especially, he still felt the distinct lack of Sonic next to himself, his heart aching with words unsaid before he left.

In the beginning there were still messages, pictures of sights, the first project, sneaky selfies from the back of an unfamiliar classroom, North felt hopeful that maybe he hadn‘t missed his chance yet. That when Sonic came back he could tell him everything. Tell him how his heart was beating faster whenever they were together, how he was ready to throw his life away as long as it meant Sonic would keep going, how sometimes all he wanted was to kiss him until they forgot where they were, how he felt that home wasn‘t really a place anymore. But then the messages became less, there were only the occasional updates in the X-Hunter group chat but nothing for him anymore. Sonic said he was busy, and North was happy things seemed to be going well for him. But he missed him, couldn‘t wait for him to get back, whenever that might be.

And especially on a day like this, he just wished to have Sonic by his side again, even if it was as his best friend. Instead he had to deal with Alan and Jeff, who could barely last a minute before making heart eyes at each other again. 

North let out a small sigh as Alan immediately jumped to Jeff‘s defense again. He was so distracted that at first he didn‘t notice the person rushing past him until they flung their arms around Alan. „Alan! I missed you! This new garage…it’s actually pretty nice.“

North felt his heart skip a beat. It couldn‘t be…

As he carefully raised his head his eyes fell onto the familiar black hair that he hadn‘t seen in almost a year. North couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he watched Sonic tease Jeff, barely focusing on what was said.

He eagerly waited for Sonic to turn around, wanting to pull him in his arms and never let go, burying himself in his scent until he didn‘t know where his own began and Sonics ended. He bit his lip trying to hide the small grin. 

Finally he had his other half back.

His heartbeat was only going up as Sonic turned around to him at last, crossing the distance.

„Hey, man.“

North felt like a bucket of cold water was dumped over his head. While he wasn‘t necessarily expecting Sonic to react the same way he always daydreamed about, he felt like something was very off. Like there was a distance between them, that wasn’t even there when Sonic first landed in Paris. “Didn’t think you’d actually come back. You’ve been off the radar for a while.” North regretted those words the second they left his mouth. He barely even registered Sonic answering, just trying to work on autopilot as he heard nothing but the blood rushing in his ears. 

In the end he barely remembered what he even said, just that Alan sent them off together to catch up.

North tried to find his footing back, so he focused on telling Sonic all that he missed in the past months. He told him about the races, Charlie and Babe, and how they were moving forward, he told him about the rings Alan was looking at to finally ask Jeff to marry him. He even told him about the drug to get rid of their Alpha senses.

Sonic did seem quite interested, eager to hear what happened to their friends, but whenever North tried to ask about France he got brushed off, Sonic asking about Pete instead. Or what happened with Kim.

North couldn’t do anything but answer. Too happy to even have Sonic there.

As the sun was slowly setting Sonic pulled out his phone to call a taxi.

„You know you don‘t have to sleep at the hotel right? You can just crash at mine..Or i can drive you?“ North offered. Sonic just gave him a dismissive wave. „It‘s alright, I thought you finally got used to having your own space, I didn‘t want to intrude. Especially without warning.“, came Somics response, the app already pulled up. North frowned. „But I‘m offering it now..You know I don‘t really like staying alone.. I texted you didn‘t I..about staying at Alans most nights when-” North cut himself off. He didn‘t want to unload on Sonic again. He had done that enough when he couldn‘t sleep, feeling like the only person who would listen to him was his best friend halfway across the world. In the end he never got a response, but seeing that the messages were at least read always gave him a sense of comfort. „Look, I already paid for the hotel, it‘s not a big deal. I‘ll see you tomorrow right?“ Sonic leaned back. „I can at least drive you? I don‘t even know when you leave, I just want to make the most of it.“ North knew he was clutching at straws, but he just had Sonic back, he didn‘t feel ready to let him go just yet. Even if he would see him again the day after. 

Sonic shook his head. „It‘s on the other side of town, North. Plus the taxi is already on his way. See you tomorrow,“ with that Sonic grabbed his jacket and walked out of the garage. North‘s „but you didn‘t even book yet“ was said to an empty room.

Frozen he stared at the spot Sonic was standing in mere minutes ago, an emptiness spreading inside of him. 

The following day was barely better. While Sonic was always the more reasonable one of the two of them, North felt like Sonic was unusually harsh in reprimanding him, like he was a child who didn‘t know the gravity of his words, instead of a man who tried to cheer up his friends.

When Babe revealed the Way look-alike, North didn‘t know what to do. So he did what he usually did, trying to lift their spirits, and again Sonic shut him down. After that he couldn‘t really take it anymore. He just wanted to talk to him again without feeling like an idiot, feeling like he was the butt of a joke that he didn’t understand. Determined, he made a vow to himself, to try again, and just ask him what was wrong. If it was something he could fix, he would do just about anything. Looking around, he spotted Sonic outside the glass, invested in a phone call. North grinned to himself, maybe he could try and surprise him. However, as he got closer he wasn‘t quite sure if he really should. The conversation didn‘t seem to be one he was meant to hear. Nor did he really know how to feel about Sonic apologizing to someone back in France about not calling sooner. Especially when he had North right here.

Shame suddenly overcame him at this moment. Of course Sonic found friends there. He had a bright personality and was always open to meeting new people. Of course people would love him. Just like North did, still does. He had no right to feel hurt by that. And maybe that really was just it. That Sonic wanted time to talk to his other friends too, that he didn’t have as much time for North anymore.

And it would be okay, he could learn how to share. So instead of hiding he walked up to Sonic, watching him hang up quickly. „Hey, Sonic. Who were you talking to?“ If someone were to ask him, North would swear he didn‘t really care, just wanted to ask, wanted to invite Sonic to share some of his adventures in France.

Luckily no one asked. Nor did anyone respond. Sonic just looked at him. North cleared his throat. „Actually, I came to ask you- wanna go get some food? There‘s a new grilled pork place next to the garage. I’ll invite the others too.” That at least got a response. „Didn’t you see how the guys were feeling? They just saw someone who looks like Way. Who’d be in the mood to eat?“ North felt stunted by those words. He was just trying to find something for them to do together again. Feeling sick at the thought of having to go back home to his empty apartment, knowing all the others had someone to fall back on. Meanwhile the one guy he thought he could always count on was looking at him like he suggested they should dance on Ways grave. „Are you avoiding me on purpose?“ He blurted out. „Not talking, not eating, not meeting up?“ North took a small step further, a weak smile on his lips, hoping Sonic would eliminate his doubts immediately. Instead he just shrugged, almost looking bored. „No. Why would I do that? About eating together…Let’s wait until things settle down first.“ „Will that be before you leave for Paris though?“ „I don‘t know. If not, I guess you‘ll have to wait until I come back next time.“ With those words Sonic brushed past him, greeting the mechanics.

North felt like a rug was pulled away from under him, he opened and closed his mouth a couple times, considering calling after him, but the tears welling up stopped him. He wasn’t sure if his voice would be steady enough.

He didn‘t know what he did wrong. If he even did anything wrong or if Sonic just met new people, people who were more like him, who were calmer, who weren‘t trying to make a joke out of everything. Who were actually smart and could help him with his studies. Who were there with him and not miles away. Who had actual ambitions and not just the dream of making it big on YouTube, while racing in the lower leagues for years, never fighting hard enough to make it further..

North clenched his fists. One hand went to his chest, trying to numb the stinging pain. 

It didn‘t help.

[bonejunky6669]

I was ABOUT to tell you that you had to watch the new episode only to see you already did!

it’s so good and Shauna and Melissa at the end genuinely had me shaking in joy. her making melissa do it was INSANE and such a cool scene, they really are making each other worse and I’m here for it. also Shauna looking all proud of her after and melissa being hesitant at first but smiling during it a little too enthusiastically, I love those sadistic freaks so badly

(also taivan backshots, that was great)

im so eager for the new eps i literally refresh paramount until they're available LMAO.

my heart was seriously beating out of my chest that end scene was perfect in every way. seriously, they're SO insane. i was gonna talk about Melissa not wanting to do it at first but literally smiling by the end. you can watch the way Shauna is actively corrupting her, and the both of them are aware of it and enjoy every second of it. Shauna is PROUD of Mel for maiming someone and Mel is going to get addicted to that feeling of praise. they both have a hunger for violence and are just going to keep feeding off of each other and pushing each other to the very worst things they're capable of. we know why Shauna is the way she is, but i really hope we get some more backstory and introspection for Mel.

coach Ben's screams of agony, the harsh light of the fire, the bloody hand holding, the dissonance from the rest of the group. truly an incredibly written and directed scene that perfectly conveys the path they are going on from this point forward, and just how different they are from how they started. i think it also shows how much love has been twisted spoiled by what they've experienced. even Tai and Van, who have a genuinely sweet and romantic relationship, literally have sex in order to get into the right headspace for killing a man (which, seems like Tai is doubting the guilt of). very similar to what they almost do to that random in the adult timeline.

its why the adult characters are incapable of showing affection in a normal way, or loving people without pushing them away. Shauna can't express love without violence, we see that with Adam. Misty kills her best friend (who she def is gay for), and despite Walter's flaws and suspicions, he does care for her and she almost can't stand that he does.

also SHAUNA TAKING MELISSA INTO HER HUT. SHOWTIME PLS RELEASE AN EXTENDED CUT PLS PLS PLS WHAT DID THEY GET UP TO IN THERE. AND IK THEY DIDNT WASH THEIR HANDS THEY WERE DEFINITELY LICKING THAT BLOOD OFF EACH OTHER

and Van's reaction kills me. once again someone seeing shaunahat and going wtf.

but yeah sadistic freak yuri is everything to me i want to mail the writers a letter telling them how much i love season 3 so far (despite the flaws like how slow the adult timeline is feeling...not terrible though, i enjoy it no matter what). I don't need drugs when a new yj episode is like a shot straight to my veins🙏

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi!! Love your acc, it's really useful for fics <33 I was wondering if you knew any fics that elaborated on the morgue scene (the one where john beat up shrelock) bc i always felt it was very brushed over in the series and frankly i think it needed to be elaborated on more.

Hey Nonny!

Ahh, yeah, I think I've been asked this a few times and I've just not ever posted a proper list. So because I need a list for this week, here's all of my TLD-adjacent fics I found doing a tag-search AND from old replies to other asks! Hope you enjoy, and add your own if you have them, friends!

TLD FIX-ITS / AFTERMATH of TLD 

BOOKMARKS

Bridges by sussexbound (M, 6,602 w., 1 Ch || Post-TLD / S4 Fix It, Love Confessions, Mending Relationships, Moving Back In, Pining Sherlock, POV Sherlock, Past Abuse, Shaving) – The silence between them is deafening, interrupted only by the hum of the traffic outside, and the soft click-clunk of the plastic cups Rosie is playing with on the floor beside them. It is the first time they have been alone together, since Sherlock’s birthday. It’s only been two days, but it feels huge, important, like there is a precarious bridge stretched out before them both that they need to at least attempt to traverse.

The In-Between by blueink3 (M, 10,679 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Parentlock, Fix-It Fic, Canon Compliant) – Beginning in a Chinese restaurant and ending at the bottom of a well, what about the moments we didn’t see?

Drawn to Stars by Silvergirl (E, 109,272 w., 60 Ch. || S4 Compliant to TLD / TFP Doesn’t Exist, Sherlock’s Italian Adventure, Sherlock/OC and Johnlock, Jealous John, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, First Kiss/Time, Idiots in Love, 3 Part Story, Slow Burn, Inexperienced Sherlock, Bottom Sherlock, Introspection, Multiple Alternating First and Third Person POV, Separation and Reconciliation, Emotional Love Making, Love Confessions via Letters, Angst with Happy Ending) – After the Culverton Smith case Sherlock is clean, working, and looking for a romantic partner—since John has told him that’s what he needs. Shame John didn’t mention he was interested in that role himself, before Sherlock went off to Rome with a gorgeous Italian copper to try to fall in love and become a complete human being.  Part 1 of the Drawn to Stars series

MARKED FOR LATER

toasting to grief by slylyaddictedtostories(T, 181 w., 1 Ch. || Poetry || Post T6T / TLD, Missing Scene) – John mussing over a drink about (missing) Sherlock and everything (he) they lost

Reconciliation by standbygo (T, 221 w, 1 Ch. || TLD Missing Scene, 221B Ficlet, Fix it Fic) – A missing scene from S4E2, "The Lying Detective". The hug was beautiful, but I wanted to add to it. My mother once said to me that you can forgive on your own, but you need to reconcile together.

My Heart Beats For You by jalexandria (M, 1,212 w., 1 Ch. || Hanahaki Disease AU || TLD Divergence, Angst, Non-Canonical Character Death, Sad Ending, Drugs, Pining Sherlock, Hurt John, Death Fic) – Things go very, very badly when John makes a horrible mistake.

Sherlock chooses himself by thewallflower07 (G, 2,035 w., 1 Ch. || Post TLD / No TFP, No Parentlock, Dialogue Heavy, Sherlock is a Mess, Sherlock and Feelings, John is Not Good, Angst) – Sherlock is a physical and emotional mess after John beats him bloody during the Culverton Smith case. He visits his therapist, who tells him to be selfish for the first time in his life. When John appears with his daughter and asks him to move back, Sherlock has to make a very difficult decision.

Reasons Wretched and Divine by Anyawen (G, 2,218 w., 1 Ch. || TLD Fix-It, John Has Issues, Admissions, Apologies, Explanations, Conversations, Emotions, Injury Recovery, Hurt/Comfort, Sick Fic, Drama & Angst, Declarations, Suicide, Assault, Marriage, Death, Drug Use, Guilt) – In the aftermath of Smith's arrest, John faces his anger and his regrets, exposing his vulnerabilities to Sherlock. They find ways to heal together.

Antiseptic by LipstickDaddy (G, 3,599 w., 1 Ch. || S4 / TLD Fix-It, Unseen Moments, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional / Psychological Abuse, Mutual Pining, Love Confessions, Protective Mycroft, Protective Greg, BAMF Mrs Hudson, Requited Unrequited Love) – What did John hear on that secret tape from Culverton’s hospital?

It Is What It Is by SpookyPorg (T, 3,874 w., 1 Ch. || TLD Fix It, Angst, Hug Scene, Love Confessions, Pining, Happy Ending, Making Out, Grief, First Kiss / Time) – After the very traumatizing events at the hospital, and John's heroic last-minute rescue, Sherlock is recovering at 221B. Doing his part to keep Sherlock under strict supervision, John pays a visit to his old flat for the first time in months. Reconciliation leads to confession.

The Tragedy Of Us by LipstickDaddy (G, 3,898 w., 2 Ch. || Post TLD, Angst, Romance, Tragedy, Hurt / Comfort, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Miscommunication, Requited Unrequited Love, Ambiguous / Open Ending) – John reflects on his relationship with Sherlock while the man is convalescing in hospital— twice.

wires Series by highfunctioningsociopath (M, 5,000+ w. across 2 works || Series WiP || Post T6T / TLD, Angst, Hurt / No Comfort, Loneliness, Mind Palace, Survivor Guilt, Mental Health Issues, Drug Addiction / Abuse, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Sherlock POV, Missing Scenes, Introspection, Psychological Trauma, Abusive Relationships, Grey Mary, Withdrawal, Depression, Self-Esteem Issues) – The road to Hell is paved with good intentions, after all. It just so happens to be lined with self-destruction.

I Want to Hear You Say It by LollipopCop (M, 8,000 w., 2 Ch. || TLD / S4 Fix It, Suicidal Thoughts, Heavy Angst, Love Confessions, Suffocation, Crying, First Kiss, Pining Sherlock, Happy Ending) – Instead of making Sherlock say he doesn't want to die, Culverton Smith forces Sherlock to repeatedly confess that he loves John before his death.

The Waning of Withdrawal by LoloLolly (E, 8,248 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TLD Fix-It, First Kiss, First Time, Mentions of Abuse, Mentions of Alcoholism, Mentions of Drug Addiction, Sexual Identity, Panic Attacks, PTSD, Sherlock's Scars, Bed Sharing, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Grief, Guilt) – Sherlock holds a weeping John in his arms and… does something that will forever change things between them. For better or worse. He fears the latter.

Slowly Suffocating by meet_me_in_samarra (M, 9,500 w., 7 Ch. || TLD Fix It, Suffocation, Hurt / Comfort, Whump) – Getting suffocated took some time. Enough time for Sherlock to ponder what went wrong. Hopefully also long enough for John to arrive and rescue him. Culverton Smith applied more pressure, impatient to turn Sherlock into a dead thing. A continuous story written for Whumptober 2023, following the 31 prompts for each day.

And Then There Were Two by NimWallace (T, 10,194 w., 20 Ch. || Post S4, Mutual Pining, Case Fic, Slow Burn, Angst, Grief / Mourning, Mystery, Cults) – It's quiet at Baker Street. Too quiet. It's been a year since Mary died, but only a few months since the events of the Final Problem, and Sherlock and John have fallen into a state of despairing and monotony. So when a case involving a vicious cult on the English Country side appears, they quickly jump to go undercover as Sean Harmony and John Wales. But how can Sherlock keep a delicate John from breaking? And how can John come to terms with his love for his detective? Most importantly, what really happened the night of the Final Problem?

The Death and Resurrection of a Beekeeper by shiplocks_of_love (M, 12,922 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || TLD / S4 Fix-It Fic, Sherlock’s Retirement, Sussex / Seaside, Brief Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Emotional Trauma, Angst with Hopeful Ending, Estranged Friends to Lovers, Partial Epistolary, No Eurus) – Sherlock escapes London for a quiet, solitary life in Sussex, exhausted after the whirlwind of drama following Mary’s death. One day, a letter arrives.

A Midnight Clear by khorazir (T, 13,120 w., 1 Ch. || Christmas-Carol Inspired || Post S3/Post-TLD / TFP Doesn't Exist, Christmas, Angst, Fluff, Pining, Canon-Typical Violence, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, Implied / Referenced Drug Use, Magical Realism) – It’s Christmas Eve, and Sherlock is working. Because that’s what he does. He doesn’t need Christmas, or holiday cheer, or even company. He’s fine on his own, thank you very much – until a series of strange encounters on his way back to Baker Street makes him reconsider.

The Ashes on the Ground by 221Beloved (M, 13,545+ w., 5/22 Ch. || WiP || Post-TLD, Miscommunication, Pining, Depression, Angst with Happy Ending, POV Sherlock) –What happens after? After the fire has burnt down and left nothing but ashes? Roughly two and a half years after what happened at Smith's hospital, things have settled. But have they really? Or is it all still hovering. And what if someone whirls up the ashes again? An old acquaintance. Can something new arise from cold ashes? Something stronger?

Entitled by Ranowa (T, 14,023 w., 2 Ch. || TLD Timeline, Canon-Typical Violence, Drug Use, Paternal Lestrade, John’s a Bit Not Good, Sherlock is a Mess) – Lestrade draws a line, because he knows Sherlock won't. 

Hope is a Subtle Glutton by isitandwonder (E, 15,753 w., 1 Ch. || No Johnlock, Sherlock/OMC, Racism, Aftermath of Violence, Happy Ending) – This is a story about Sherlock Holmes finally finding love and the happiness he deserves - just not with John Watson.

Angry Men by FawnHickory (M, 16,975 w., 16 Ch. || WiP || Post TLD Morgue Incident, Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Self Examination, Big Brother Mycroft, Past Abuse, Sad Sherlock) – Greg gave John some things to consider in Destroy Him. John faces some uncomfortable truths about himself. Part 2 of the A Good Man and An Angry Man

What It Can Be by amaruuk (T, 18,310 w., 1 Ch. || Post TLD, Healing Friendship, Mutual Pining, First Kisses, Cake) – "Which is why we're all taking it in turns to keep you off the sweeties." With the help of his friends, Sherlock is healing from drug overuse and physical injuries. He is also trying to salvage his friendship with John with the hope that, perhaps, they can make it something more.

Hot Water Bottle by khorazir (T, 18,436 w., 1 Ch. || Post TLD / TFP Doesn’t Exist, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstandings, Communication, Demisexual Sherlock, Bisexual John, Autumn, Bed Sharing, Developing Relationship, First Kiss) – A case in one of the remotest corners of the Lake District, a storm, an inn, a broken boiler, a room with two beds but only one hot water bottle, and two men who have a lot to sort out between them – all of this makes for a night to remember.

Contrition by sussexbound (E, 18,556+ w., 5/? Ch. || WiP || Post-S4/TFP Didn’t Happen, Rosie Doesn’t Exist, T6T/TLD is Canon, Year After TLD, Light BDSM, Soft Dom Sherlock / Sub John, Punishment, Light Bondage, Light Masochism / No Sadism, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Tenderness, Aftercare, Forgiveness, Edging, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Mutual Masturbation, Hand Jobs, Anal Fingering, Rimming, Frottage, Communication, Sexual Negotiation, Sexual Tension, Spanking, Head Injury, Anal Sex) – “You’ve been tense ever since we got back, itching for a fight, all your usual tells, but why…?” The truth strikes like lightning. “Oh… Oh! You’re not angry at me. Not this time. Well—maybe a little. But mostly, mostly you’re angry at yourself. Why? For falling behind? For not being there in time. For not taking Wilkes down fast enough?” Sherlock waves a dismissive hand. “It doesn’t really matter.” He lifts a finger to his swollen cheek and cut eyebrow. “You blame yourself for this. And you offered to fix it. But I wouldn’t let you, and… But that’s not what you really want, anyway, is it?” John looks stunned, a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming lorry, frozen, waiting for the lethal strike. “You don’t want me to let you help. At least not right away. No. What you want, what you really want is—punishment.”

The Nearer Your Destination by Silvergirl (E, 18,949  w., 6 Ch. || Post-TLD, Established Relationship, Wedding, Venice Honeymoon, Parentlock, Jealousy) – After a December wedding, Sherlock takes John to Venice for a February honeymoon. It's absolutely perfect, up until the moment he hears John growl, "What the hell is Zanardi doing here?" Part 4 of the Drawn to Stars series

Repentance by LollipopCop (E, 19,782 w., 2 Ch. || Post-TLD/Post S4 Fix It, Not TFP-Compliant, John-Centric, Angst, Self-Loathing, Hugging, First Kiss/Time, Rosie, Love Confessions, Crying, John’s Issues) – John cannot understand why Sherlock even wants to look at him after the horrible way he acted, and his guilt is destroying him. Why doesn’t Sherlock snap at him, scream at him, treat him the way he deserves?

The Slings and Arrows of Outrageous Misfortune by Sherlockwatsonholmesblog (M, 20,455+ w., 4/7 Ch || Post TLD, Five Stages of Grief, Estranged Friends to Lovers, Implied / Referenced Suicide, Self Hatred, Slow Burn, Emotional Trauma, Recovery) – There seems to be something tragic in a friendship so coloured by romance, for they have loved each other immensely. However, Some Days, love isn’t enough. Sherlock and John persevering, as always.

Becoming Us (A reunion in three parts) by addicted2hugh (E, 23,207 w., 3 Ch. || S4 Fix It, Pining Sherlock, Grief/Mourning, Hurt Sherlock, Hurt/Comfort, Protective John, First Time, POV Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Light Parentlock, Bottom Sherlock, Self-Harm, Drug Addiction, Sherlock is a Mess) – After watching Mary's last message, Sherlock and John try to be the "Baker Street Boys" again. Rebuilding the destroyed flat is the easy part. Will they manage to rebuild their friendship as well? And what did Mary mean when she said: "And if I'm gone, I know what you could become."?

Danger Nights by khorazir (T, 23,591 w., 3 Ch. || Post-TLD, Friends to Lovers, Mentioned Parentlock, Pining, First Kiss/Time, Winter, Folklore, Wales, Spooky Elements, Bed Sharing, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Spooky Elements) – According to folklore, the nights between Christmas and Twelfth Night are the most dangerous of the year. During them, the Wild Hunt rides, and ghosts and demons come out to haunt unsuspecting and misbehaving folk. An investigation of a series of strange occurrences leads John and Sherlock to Hay-on-Wye on the Welsh Marches, to face ghosts weird and ancient as well as close and personal – and perhaps to start the new year on a more hopeful note than the previous one.

the silence of your words by dyingofangst (E, 27,326 w., 6 Ch. || Post TLD / TFP Isn’t Canon, Case Fic, Estranged Friends to Lovers, Kidnapping, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Angst with Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Bed Sharing, Night Conversations, Self-Esteem Issues) – Three years after John decided to distance himself from Sherlock, Rosie is kidnapped and John asks for Sherlock's help. But they're not what they used to be, and even if they learned how to heal on their own, there are still many things left unsaid between them, things they'll have to put aside to focus on finding Rosie, while both hoping it's not too late.

under the burden of solitude by subtext-is-my-division (E, 27,947 w., 5 Ch. || S3/S4 Fix It/Post TLD, Angst, Grief/Mourning, First Kiss, Mentions of Rape, Hurt/Comfort, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock POV, Fantasies, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Suicidal Thoughts Mentions, Five and Ones) – Five times they shared a bed platonically, and one time they didn't.

Entangled by missselene (E, 29,044 w., 13 Ch. || Original Male Character, One-Sided Johnlock, Online Dating, Lonely Sherlock, Dancing, First Kiss, Oblivious John, Dev. Rel., Jealous John) – Sherlock knows John will never return his feelings. So what if he decided to look for love elsewhere? Part 1 of the Sherlock & Sanjay series

Lessons in Astronomy Series by CaitlinFairchild (E, 31,164 w. across 3 stories || Angst, Post S3, Grief/Mourning, Mildly DubCon, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Physical Abuse, Oral/Anal Sex, Unrequited Love, Pining, Sibling Incest (No Actual Holmescest), Masturbation, Accidental Voyeurism, Drug Addiction, Romance, Dev. Rel., Trust Issues, Happy Ending) – In a different time, a more naive time, Sherlock thought he was the star and John the satellite, circling him in worshipful orbit. He knows now that was never true. John was always the sun, bright and fierce, and Sherlock was the pale, cold moon, his only heat coming from the light he reflected. And then his sun went into supernova. Moriarty said he would burn him and he has, and John is the fire, his rage and grief incinerating Sherlock, burning the heart out of him in the end, turning him into nothing but cinder and ash. And now the supernova is collapsing, a black hole born where there was once warmth and heat and love, and Sherlock is being pulled down, down past the event horizon, into the endless frozen void where nothing can ever escape.

A Case for Domestic Propinquity by SilentAuror (E, 32,308 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TFP / Post S4 Fix It, Romance, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Domesticity) – As Sherlock and John renovate Baker Street with Rosie underfoot, Sherlock can't help but wondering how he could possibly convince John to just stay indefinitely... [TRANSLATIONS: 中文-普通话國語] | Русский]

Afghan Bullets, Beards, and Unlocked Bedroom Doors Series by addicted2hugh (E, 38,761+ w. across 2 works || WiP || Post-S4, Bearded John, Porn With Feelings, Friends to Lovers, First Time, Virgin Sherlock, References to Canon, Flashbacks, Mutual Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Drug Use, References to Suicide, Grief/Mourning, Top Sherlock, Reunion) – Set after series 4. The boys are living together again, and John's new style drives Sherlock crazy. He's trying to keep his besotted heart and over-excited libido a secret, but John has other plans. Lots. Of. SEX. And love.

A Thing With Peas by khorazir (M, 39,5537 w., 3 Ch. || Post-S3/Post-TLD/TFP Doesn't Exist, Fluff and Angst, Communication, Demisexual Sherlock, Asexuality, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Idiots in Love, Friends to Lovers, Developing Relationship, Implied / Referenced Drug Use, Parentlock, First Kiss) – Sherlock does the laundry. John cooks a thing with peas. They talk. Finally.

Limerence by SherlockWatson_Holmes (NR, 41,763 w., 17 Ch. || S4 / TLD Fix It, Character Death, Drug Use, Slow Burn, Angst with Happy Ending) – Limerence (noun); The state of being infatuated or obsessed with another person: typically characterised by a strong desire to maintain a relationship with the object of love and have one’s feelings reciprocated. S4 fix-it, starting on the tarmac.

Nocturne by SilentAuror (E, 47,927 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4 / S4 Fix It, Trauma, Bed Sharing, Friends to Lovers, POV John, Sherlock Whump) – When Sherlock is injured at a crime, an avalanche of suppressed trauma opens up. John ends up moving into his bedroom to ward off the nightmares, hoping against hope that this arrangement can last indefinitely. This is a story of nights spent together, trauma recovery, and John finally learning some truths long hidden.

The Night Is Darkest by missselene (E, 48,461 w., 8 Ch. || Post-TLD, Extremely Dub Con, S4 Rage Monster John, Insecure Sherlock, Self-Esteem Issues, Sexual Exploration, Healing, Self Care, Self Acceptance, Sexual Exploration, Casual Sex, Gentle Sex, Sherlock/OMC, Threesome with 2 OMCs, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Communication, Internalized Homophobia, Relationship Negotiation) –  Sherlock Holmes would do anything for John Watson... and that includes letting John do whatever he wants to him. What would it take for Sherlock to stand up for himself and finally start taking care of his own needs?

Borrowed Ghosts by DiscordantWords (M, 57,216 w., 10 Ch. || TLD Divergence / TFP Doesn’t Exist, Minor Lestrolly, Pining Sherlock, John’s a Mess, Heavy Angst with Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Ghost Mary, Guilt, Forgiveness, Drinking, No Hug Scene) – In the aftermath of the Culverton Smith case, John spent one painfully stilted afternoon hanging out with Sherlock. He counted the minutes, finished his tea, and left for home without ever clearing the air between them.And once he'd left, he found it very hard to go back.

Lost In A Good Book by khorazir (M, 68,552 w., 6 Ch. || Magical Realism / Discworld Elements || Post TLD, Miscommunication, L-Space, Developing Relationship, Parentlock, Demisexual Sherlock, Bisexual John, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Bookshop) – After chasing a criminal into a poky second-hand bookshop, John and Sherlock find themselves not only stuck in the building, but in L-space itself. With things still raw and unsettled between them after the events surrounding the Culverton Smith case, this adds another dimension to their predicament, which not only constitutes of finding a way out of the shop (while avoiding getting murdered by the criminal), but also to finally address the issues between them.

This Would Make You Happy? by Ranowa (M, 71,217 w., 10 Ch. || Post-TLD Fix It, Past Viclock, Past Sherlock/OMC, Therapy, Protective John, Drug Use, Pining, Autistic Sherlock, Angst with a Happy Ending) – John, more than anything else, wants Sherlock to be happy. Sherlock, more than anything else, wants to make John happy. These two goals are not as in sync as one would think.

"Merry Christmas" I wrapped it up and sent it with a note saying "I love you" by starrysummernights (E, 135,132+ w., 30/31 Ch. || WIP || Post S4, Slow Burn, Mary is Not Nice, Christmas, Fluff, Smut, Angst, Parentlock, Past Torture / Rape) – John has moved back into 221B with his daughter Rosie after Mary was killed, but things are not exactly comfortable between him and Sherlock. After everything that has happened, they are trying to become friends again...and maybe something more. What better time than the Christmas season?! Takes place after TLD.

Limitless Ocean by angel-loving-star (M, 150,730+ w., 21/36 Ch. || WIP || Post-TLD / S4 Fix It, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, John's PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Sherlock Whump, Alcohol Abuse, Past Drug Addiction, Fluff, Parentlock, Coming Out, Nightmares, Panic / Anxiety Attacks, Dissociation, Alternating POV, Suicidal Ideation, Self-Harm Ideation, Internalized Homophobia, Closeted John, Angst, Insomnia, Domestics, Cuddling / Snuggling, Gay Sherlock) – Sherlock is recovering from the Culverton Smith case. But there are some things that time or body can't heal. When John and Rosie unexpectedly move back in 221B the day after Sherlock's birthday, nothing is as it used to be. Both he and John are treading on thin ice. It is only a matter of time until the first cracks appear. Until they begin to sink into the freezing waters of the ocean beneath, and are forced to face their demons, each other, and what has been lurking in the dark for far, far too long. Until it is only them, the promise of sky above the surface, and the limitless ocean flooding into their hearts.

The Chemist by TheGracefulBlueCat (M, 158,385 w., 46/? Ch. || WiP || TLD Fix-It, Drug Use and Withdrawal, Hurt/Comfort, Doctor John, Protective Mycroft, Sick Sherlock, Medical Procedures, Grief/Mourning, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Nightmares, Mental Health Issues, Victorian Sherlock, Asperger’s Sherlock, Sherlock Is Not Okay, Papa Lestrade, Drunkenness, Autistic Sherlock, Synesthesia, Insecure Sherlock, Angst, Sick Fic, Case Fic, Asylums) – Sherlock returns to Baker Street and faces detox. But he feels too exhausted and bad to go through it fully conscious, so he - once more - uses his mind palace to distract him with an old case. But due to his drug issues and the tension between him and John things don’t work as smoothly as everyone hoped they would, confronting Sherlock and all his friends with more of their demons than they would have liked to.

Radioactive Trees In A Red Forest by Maribor_Petrichor (E, 280,251 w., 73 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-S4, Suicidal Ideations, Alcohol / Rx Drug Abuse, Coming Out / Bisexual John, Seizures, Past/Referenced/Implied Child Abuse, Hallucinations, Rehab, Celibacy, Sobriety / Relapse, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Psychological Trauma, Nice /Not Anti-Mary, John’s POV, Parentlock, First Time, Angst, Switchlock, Angst with Happy Ending) – John Watson is what happens when a man can no longer see a reason to go on. John Watson is what happens when a man starts to let go. "It is what it is." John Watson is what happens when what "it is" becomes too much to bear. This is a story of the life, death, and resurrection of John Hamish Watson.

[prickly-paprikash]

Feels like the beef is over. Possible Kendrick album drop on the horizon. He even went and lifted copyright claims over any video that uses his four diss tracks since him and his team knew the fire they started over the weekend and that this would go a long way in helping out reactors, edit channels, dissection channels and more.

With the (likely) end of this feud, investigations need to begin. If Kendrick has proper receipts over his allegations, it needs to see the light of day and I hope it's soon. Rap disses is one thing—these are predator accusations that need to be met with the proper gravity. Given his relations with Baka and the stories in Toronto cropping up of his activities, I feel at the very least confident that there will be things Drake needs to address. And address them soon.

But I also want to discuss the (possible) last diss. The Heart Part 6.

A pathetic attempt to steal a title from Kendrick's own series of singles "The Heart Parts I-V". Songs that Kendrick has utilized to give introspection regarding the industry, his masculinity, depression, his savior complex and so much more. And Drake uses that title for what exactly?

Not a brutal response. Not a catchy summer bop.

He sounds defeated. His lyrics are incoherent, going from saying he planted that false information, to also saying that those who planted it are clowns and fakes. He dismisses and ridicules Kendrick's "Mother, I Sober" song, a story about Kendrick being harassed and SA. Except, as I have since corrected myself over thanks to others on here, that the entire song is him saying the assault never happened and no one believes him. So not only did Drake contradict his claims in one song, he showed his illiteracy.

And Kendrick doesn't respond like he does with Family Matters. When Drake dropped FM, Kendrick immediately invalidated an entire seven minute track by dropping his own response, a haunting meet the grahams, within thirty minutes. A malicious dissection and mock therapy session between him and every member of the Grahams, including Drake's alleged hidden daughter. And finishes the blow by dropping Not Like Us in less than a day, a certified summer hit that has already been played over and over again across the world. When Drake stans accused him of making boring, sleep-causing disses because they were too deep and complex, Kendrick dropped all pretense and released a song produced by DJ Mustard himself to bluntly call Drake and his posse predators while making everyone, including Drake's own base, to dance to the beat.

And we return to Drake's last response. More dislikes than likes. Boring. Lacking the pettiness and replayability that previous disses possessed. A sad, final attempt at a defense and Kendrick doesn't seem to bother responding.

Instead, it seems he leaves it up to the public now. Let them do the rest of the work.

I have to ask one final time.

What made Drake think it was a smart idea to go bar for bar in a lyrical war against a man who won a Pulitzer and has more than three times the amount of Grammy's he does?

RIP Drake, I guess. Didn't realize your entire legacy would be destroyed on a club beat. Ironic, actually.