#being born for something greater

[kerryweaverlesbian]

I wish we had more Sam and Claire scenes, maybe there will be more further into season 11, because the fact that they were both abandoned by destiny. Is making me vibrate on frequencies henceforth unknown to man.

[hopeworth]

kishimoto might have been a mostly bad writer but he kinda went off with Breaking The Cycle as an overarching theme of the whole series

[catilinas]

cic. att. 14.10.1 trans. e-pistulae / lucan, pharsalia 7.638-46 trans. a.s. kline

[isekyaaa]

Maybe being a clone doesn't scare me because I had to recreate myself at one point in my life. When I was going through major depression (not like lol depression, but it was very bad), I reached a point where I could not differentiate myself from the depression. Depression seeped into every fiber of my being that I essentially lost everything that made me me. Changing for the better meant scrapping everything I knew. I had to start from scratch and build myself back up piece by piece. It was terrifying. Depression, as bad as it was, became a crutch I could always rely on. It was steady and consistent. It was everything I knew. To let it go meant venturing out into a world that I had no clue what was what anymore. I had to go on blind faith that I would make it through.

I've done it once I probably can do it again.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

commonly confused words

accept: to receive except: with the exclusion of

advice: recommendation (noun) advise: to recommend (verb)

adverse: unfavorable averse: opposed to

affect: to influence (verb); emotional response (noun) effect: result (noun); to cause (verb)

aisle: space between rows isle: island

allude: to make indirect reference to elude: to avoid

allusion: indirect reference illusion: false idea, misleading appearance

already: by this time all ready: fully prepared

altar: sacred platform or place alter: to change

altogether: thoroughly all together: everyone/everything in one place

a lot: a quantity; many of something allot: to divide or portion out

angel: supernatural being, good person angle: shape made by joining two straight lines

are: plural form of "to be" our: plural form of "my"

accent: pronunciation common to a region ascent: the act of rising or climbing assent: consent, agreement

assistance: help assistants: helpers

bare: nude, unadorned bear: to carry; an animal

beside: close to; next to besides: except for; in addition

boar: a wild male pig bore: to drill a hole through

board: piece of wood bored: uninterested

born: brought into life borne: past participle of "to bear" (carry)

breath: air taken in (noun) breathe: to take in air (verb)

brake: device for stopping break: destroy; make into pieces

buy: to purchase by: next to; through the agency of

canvas: heavy cloth canvass: to take a survey; a survey

capital: major city capitol: government building

choose: to pick chose: past tense of "to choose"

clothes: garments close: to shut; near cloths: pieces of fabric

coarse: rough course: path; series of lectures

complement: something that completes compliment: praise, flattery

conscience: sense of morality conscious: awake, aware

corps: regulated group corpse: dead body

council: governing body counsel: advice; to give advice

dairy: place where milk products are processed diary: personal journal

descent: downward movement dissent: disagreement

dessert: final, sweet course in a meal desert: to abandon; dry, sandy area

device: a plan; a tool or utensil devise: to create

discreet: modest, prudent behavior discrete: a separate thing, distinct

do: a verb indicating performance or execution of a task dew: water droplets condensed from air due: as a result of

dominant: commanding, controlling dominate: to control

die: to lose life; one of a pair of dice dye: to change or add color

dyeing: changing or adding color dying: losing life

elicit: to draw out illicit: illegal, forbidden

eminent: prominent imminent: about to happen

envelop: to surround (verb) envelope: container for a letter (noun)

everyday: routine, commonplace, ordinary (adj.) every day: each day, succession (adj. + noun)

fair: just, honest; a carnival; light skinned fare: money for transportation; food

farther: at a greater (measurable) distance further: in greater (non-measurable) depth

formally: conventionally, with ceremony formerly: previously

forth: forward fourth: number four in a list

gorilla: animal in ape family guerrilla: soldier specializing in surprise attacks

hear: to sense sound by ear here: in this place

heard: past tense of "to hear" herd: group of animals

hoard: a hidden fund or supply, a cache horde: a large group or crowd, swarm

hole: opening whole: complete; an entire thing

human: relating to the species homo sapiens humane: compassionate

its: possessive form of "it" it's: contraction for "it is"

knew: past tense of "know" new: fresh, not yet old

know: to comprehend no: negative

later: after a time latter: second one of two things

lead: heavy metal substance; to guide led: past tense of "to lead"

lessen: to decrease lesson: something learned and/or taught

lightning: storm-related electricity lightening: making lighter

loose: unbound, not tightly fastened lose: to misplace

maybe: perhaps (adv.) may be: might be (verb)

meat: animal flesh meet: to encounter mete: to measure; to distribute

medal: a flat disk stamped with a design meddle: to interfere, intrude metal: a hard organic substance mettle: courage, spirit, energy

miner: a worker in a mine minor: underage person (noun); less important (adj.)

moral: distinguishing right from wrong; lesson of a fable or story morale: attitude or outlook usually of a group

passed: past tense of "to pass" past: at a previous time

patience: putting up with annoyances patients: people under medical care

peace: absence of war piece: part of a whole; musical arrangement

peak: point, pinnacle, maximum peek: to peer through or look furtively pique: fit of resentment, feeling of wounded vanity

pedal: the foot lever of a bicycle or car petal: a flower segment peddle: to sell

personal: intimate; owned by a person personnel: employees

plain: simple, unadorned plane: to shave wood; aircraft (noun)

precede: to come before proceed: to continue

presence: attendance; being at hand presents: gifts

principal: foremost (adj.); administrator of a school (noun) principle: moral conviction, basic truth

quiet: silent, calm quite: very

rain: water drops falling; to fall like rain reign: to rule rein: strap to control an animal (noun); to guide or control (verb)

raise: to lift up raze: to tear down

rational: having reason or understanding rationale: principles of opinion, beliefs

respectfully: with respect respectively: in that order

reverend: title given to clergy; deserving respect reverent: worshipful

right: correct; opposite of left rite: ritual or ceremony write: to put words on paper

road: path rode: past tense of "to ride"

scene: place of an action; segment of a play seen: viewed; past participle of "to see"

sense: perception, understanding since: measurement of past time; because

sight: scene, view, picture site: place, location cite: to document or quote (verb)

stationary: standing still stationery: writing paper

straight: unbending strait: narrow or confining; a waterway

taught: past tense of "to teach" taut: tight

than: used to introduce second element; compared to then: at that time; next

their: possessive form of "they" there: in that place they’re: contraction for "they are"

through: finished; into and out of threw: past tense of "to throw" thorough: complete

to: toward too: also; very (used to show emphasis) two: number following one

track: course, road tract: pamphlet; plot of ground

waist: midsection of the body waste: discarded material; to squander

waive: forgo, renounce wave: flutter, move back and forth

weak: not strong week: seven days

weather: climatic condition whether: if wether: a neutered male sheep

where: in which place were: past tense of "to be"

which: one of a group witch: female sorcerer

whose: possessive for "of who" who’s: contraction for "who is"

your: possessive for "of you" you’re: contraction for "you are" yore: time long past

commonly confused words part 2

[leafatlaw]

I’d be such a good canary to send to a coal mine (<— guy currently experiencing seasonal depression)

[bnhaobssesed]

Thinking about husband!Bakugo and wife!reader

Katsuki always pictured himself as a hero, yes. But when that became a reality, his life had no other purposes than to be the number one hero. Bear with me, he still wanted to be number one. But as he grew older he saw people around him settle and have a compromise between hero life and their private life. And by that I mean building a family. Kirishima was the first one to do so with Mina, soon followed by a lot of his friends. Even Deku at some point. And even if he sometimes loved being 'uncle Kats', he sometimes wishes he could hear that small laugh looking like his, or small eyes sparkling like yours.

For the first time ever, his wishes took another turn. He wanted to be father as much as he wanted to be the number one hero. If not even more.

And even if it took a while to get it off his chest, he wouldn't regret it for one second just to live this moment.

~

He was coming home after a long day of work, expecting to hear little screams and be met with the vivacity of his house. No, pure silence. It seemed strange to not hear small runnning footsteps towards the entryway and a little excited 'daddy !' coming from the living room.

He got his shoes off and started his investigation on where the people in his house was hidden. He first thought of one of their endless pranks which soon got denied by the sight next to the couch.

You were there, sleeping on the carpet with a little boy in your arms. His son, his first born of now three. And your hand rested on the edge of a rocking crib where his daughter of a little less than five months was sleeping peacefully too. She was sprawled out just like him when he sleeps and beneath her closed eyelids she shared the same red irises as him and her brother.

His son had his head nuzzled in your shoulder, being always so clingy to you in such a vulnerable state. And your cheek was smudged against the top of his spiky looking hair. You were drolling a little, your hair slightly messed up but right now you looked like the most beautiful creature that he got the whance to marry somehow. And that shimmering band on your finger was the proof of it.

He crouched down, carefully putting his gauntlets away. He studied you three for a very long time, never getting sick of it. He had build this... After years of only wanting to be a hero, he had build something greater. Something to go home to, to live for, to not be reckless for, to protect with all his strength. Because when he left in the morning, it was to those smiles and those faces he was fighting to come back to. He gently took out his phone, already filled to the brim with other frozen moments like this... of his family. He took a picture, his smile extending as he heard you mumbling his name in your sleep. He obviously put it as his new lockscreen, a new vision of his motiviation.

He'll bleed and fight for this and make all those streets sure for these three persons right in front of him. He kissed each of your faces carefully before silently going to cook dinner. Not without glancing at the baby photos hanging on the wall on his way out.

They were his copy, a fact you would often complain about. Being the one who "carried them for 9 months and got no credit on the appearence" as you liked to say. But he knew part of you adored to have little versions of him running around. And he was jealous of it, he wanted to have a mini you too running around.

But that would be for another day. Closer than you might know.

[jungkookstatts]

All Over Again

[Summary]: Paternity leave has its effects on Jungkook. After his first day back at work, he can't help but show you how much he doesn't want to go back.

[Theme]: Dad!Jk, CEO!Jk, Married Couple AU, Parent's AU

[Rating]: 18+ for sexual themes. Marking, kissing, nipple play, creampie, unprotected (wrap it up y'all), dom!JK, mentions of another pregnancy, talks of pregnancy and getting pregnant, etc.

[Word Count]: 4,274

[A/N]: This is a pure result of the urge my body suddenly gets to want a child right before my period smh. Anyway, felt cute, might delete later once I am sane.

It’s been a long ass day. Jungkook’s white button-up feels stapled to his skin, his pants folding uncomfortably with every step he makes as he exits his office. A long finger comes up to his neck, digging underneath his striped tie, wiggling it a little to loosen the chokehold it has around his neck. His other hand feels bound to his briefcase, which carries so much importance in his life but yet so much burden at the same time.

It’s his first day back at work after his baby boy was born. The briefcase he holds reminds him of the duty he has to his family — of his passion and his support for you and your baby. But it also reminds him of the time it has ripped away from spending with you. He clutches it with so much strength at the thought of you, pulling his car keys out of his pocket and pressing the unlock button so hard, that he thinks he almost might just break it.

With a deep breath, he takes off his tie and tosses it in the passenger seat along with his briefcase. He’s ready to go home. That picture of you, him, and your son that you insisted on framing and Jungkook bringing to work has been a constant reminder of what he has to look forward to at the end of the day. If only his paternity leave could have been longer. You and his son are all he’s been able to think about. How you were doing, if you needed his help, if Jaemun was being feisty, how the cute crinkle on his nose resembles yours to a T.

It’s late January, and the winter air is unforgiving. He wonders if you have the heat on high enough; if Jaemun had enough blankets, or if the tip of your nose was cold like how it always is in the winter months. He can imagine you holding him close, swaddling him as you sing to him delicately. The thought makes his whole body warm, even though the air is so cold that it feels like glass is cutting against his skin.

He’s convinced he will take more time off. He’s the CEO, after all. He could take months off and it not matter. He wants to be with you always — at all times of the day to hold you and be there for you like he should be. If only the world had been that easy to where passions didn’t have a price. He got lucky, his passion having a heavy penny attached to it. But he wonders where that passion took something more valuable away from him — time. He finds himself now strapped between the choice of time and passion, and he fights the fact that he cannot choose both.

The door to your home is welcoming to his eyes as he pulls up to it. It’s not big by any means. Just homey and enough for the three of you. Even with the snow covering almost every inch of it, the reminder of how warm it is on the inside makes his drive to enter it even greater. He does so with a shiver, coming up to your shared home with a stomp of his boots to shake off the snow just before he enters.

To his surprise, he’s met with hushed music coming from the kitchen as he puts his winter coat on the hook, places his briefcase on the wooden floor, and shimmies out of his shoes. He looks at his watch first, making sure it’s not Jaemun’s nap time, to which he finds out it is. The soft music makes sense now, and he smiles when he makes his way down the hallway to the source of the noise.

The rest of the house is dark except for the kitchen-living room area that you and your baby rest in. Jaemun is peacefully sleeping in his bassinet by the couch, cuddling his dinosaur blanket, while you are by the stove, stirring something.

You look over your shoulder at the sound of familiar footsteps, and your heart immediately softens at the sight of your husband in the doorframe. He smiles back tiredly, running his hand through his hair in an exhausted attempt to pull himself together before he makes his way over to you. He looks relieved, like he’s finally received what he’s wanted all day. You’re happy to see him, knowing all too well that that’s what you’ve been waiting for all day, too.

Big, warm hands slide around your waist, a heavy chin rests on your shoulder as he kisses your cheek softly. He takes a deep breath, breathing in your presence as he releases the tension from work off his shoulders. You tend to have an instant effect on him — he missed you so much.

“You’re stirring water?” he laughs as he stares at the pot of water on the stove, unboiled, as you stir it as if it is.

“I’m trying to get it to boil quicker,” you explain with a defeated sigh. “Doesn’t seem to be working. I feel like I’ve been standing here for 20 minutes.”

He hums from behind you, taking your stirring hand and stopping your motions. You’ve never been a big cooker, but he knows you’ve been trying lately. “Just let it be, love. It’ll get there.”

You do as he says, putting the ladle down on the countertop and turning around in his embrace. You wrap your arms around his neck, staring at the tall man who holds you close against him. You’re met with a tired Jungkook who rests his forehead against yours as you play with the hairs at the back of his head.

“How was work?” you ask gently.

He groans, wrapping his hands around your waist and holding you tighter against him. It causes you to rest your cheek on his shoulder, hugging him in full.

“That bad?” you chuckle.

Your husband just sighs against your neck. “It’s too early to go back, Y/n,” he candors.

You tuck a strand of hair that fell in front of his face behind his ear. “We’re ok, Kook,” you comfort. But he only shakes his head, making the tucked strand fall out of its place again.

“I’m not,” he says. “I want to be here with you. Spend time with Jaemun before he’s suddenly 25.”

You chuckle at that. It does feel like that sometimes. It’s been three months since your son was born, but it feels like it was just yesterday that you were holding him for the first time.

You can only hold his cheek in response, running your thumb slowly against his soft skin. You feel for him, you really do. He’s such a good father. It makes your heartstrings tug and twist and pull every time you see him with your little boy. It’s only a matter of time before you have to go back to work as well. The thought makes your stomach turn, and you can completely sympathize with your husband dreading going back to work and leaving you and Jaemun.

“Your water is boiling,” he breaks you out of your daze.

“Oh,” you turn around. You smile, knowing he was right before. “I’m making pasta if that sounds ok?”

Jungkook kisses your neck in response, a gentle thing that has your tummy flipping for a second.

“You could also probably wake up our son,” you check the time on the microwave. “He’s been a little sleepy today, so I let his nap go for a little longer than usual.”

You add the pasta in and turn the water down, moving over to the greens left on the cutting board. You start chopping until your husband’s lips move lower.

“Our son,” he whispers, kissing your collarbone. The statement makes him jittery. It feels unreal still, even after nine months of waiting, and another three of actually having your little family here with him. You’re his wife, the mother of his kid, and he loves you more than anything in the world. You gave him something he can never find an equivalent to giving back to you. You gave him your heart and a family, and there’s nothing that can replace or overcome what that means to him. His soul lives for yours; it’s overwhelming what you’ve done for him. It’s overwhelming how you make him feel.

He kisses your collarbone softly once again, his heart full. You tilt your head to the side for more, and he gives it to you, kissing up your neck with slow wet kisses.

“Kook,” you exhale gently. You feel him hum against the skin just under your ear. Large palms cup your waist, his body moving closer to yours, trapping your hips against the countertop. Your knife feels loose in your hand when he bites at your skin gently, his tongue brushing over the bite mark afterward.

He stirs something within you. Something that you’ve missed terribly for the past few months. It makes your thighs tremble as he gently caresses your skin under his fingertips.

“The baby—“ you begin, but Jungkook’s motions cut you off yet again when his fingers slowly slide down your front. He’s unsure, his hand hesitating over your skin as his breath stops momentarily in thought.

“Is this okay?” He asks you genuinely. You nearly fall to your knees, dropping your knife onto the board, when his fingers put pressure over your clothed mound. It’s subtle, and much more gentle than what you’re used to with him. You know he’s being cautious, but god did you miss him. “If it’s too much, I’ll pull away.”

You shake your head.

It’s been a long time since the two of you have gotten intimate. Childbirth wasn’t easy, and your doctor just recently gave you two the “ok” for sex. The first time you tried since then wasn’t like what you’re used to with your husband. It was slow and painful, ending with a lot of apologies, embarrassment, and frustration. It’s safe to say that you have to get used to sex all over again.

“No,” you lean against him. “J-Just be gentle. I’m still a little sore.”

“Ok,” he whispers against your neck, kissing it softly. “Just relax for me, baby. I’ll make it feel good, I promise.”

You nod, loosening your nervous shoulders as your husband takes control. He stops swiftly for a second, turning the stove on the lowest setting before looking over his shoulder at his son to ensure he’s still fast asleep. Once he sees that he is, he immediately returns to you.

“So good for me,” he says, slowly circling your clit over your sweats. His other hand squeezes your waist before it moves up, sliding under your shirt and trickling over your breast. You’re wearing a soft bra today—one without an underwire—which makes it easier for him to slide his fingers under.

You whimper when he softly massages your boob, his fingers playing with your nipples gently. Your body, especially your breasts, has become 10x more sensitive since birth. You can feel everything, and everything either hurts or feels really really good. Whenever your husband seems to hold them, you’re a whimpering mess, melting like putty in his arms as he plays with you.

“Sensitive,” Jungkook smiles. His fingers rub harder against you, and you subtly buck your hips against him. His lips graze against your skin, his hair tickling your collarbone as he assaults your neck over and over again. 

“You’re so cute when you’re pregnant,” he rasps against your cheek before planting a sweet kiss upon it. “Wanna see you like that all the time. So full of me — carrying our babies.”

“Jungkook, I—” you whine, grasping onto his wrist. You’re unsure what to do with yourself, wanting him to do so much to you, but not knowing where to start.

The man behind you takes his hand away from your mound, and he chuckles when you whine in protest. But his thumbs hook on your pants and underwear, slowly pulling them down.

“Relax, baby,” he asks again. “I told you, I’m gonna take care of you. Don’t worry.”

His hand slides around your waist again, smoothing over your skin until it’s sliding between your folds. The back of your hand comes up to your mouth as your other grips the countertop for support as he plays with you.

“So wet,” he moans, feeling the effect he’s had on you with his fingers. “This all for me? I’ve barely touched you yet.”

You nod, feeling completely at the mercy of the man behind you. His other hand plays with your nipple again, and you feel another wave of euphoria go straight to your pussy.

His fingers gather your slick generously, smoothing it over your clit before circling it gently. He plays infinities over it, making your knees go weak. It’s getting harder to stay quiet, especially when he pinches your nipple gently, making you gasp at the soreness and pleasure it causes.

“K-Kook,” you whine, but he only chuckles, quickening his motions on your clit as he presses further into you. You can feel his dick strained against his work pants, and the thought of him inside you again makes you feel so needy for him. “Want you,” you pant. “Please.”

“Patience,” he shushes you, kissing your neck surely. “I haven’t even made you cum yet.”

“Wanna cum with you,” you whine in protest.

“You will,” he promises.

You gasp as he switches his finger, his thumb trading places with his middle. It circles over you just the same, except this time, it’s joined by his middle finger slowly inserting itself between your folds.

“Oh,” you exhale, feeling weak when he pumps it in and out of you slowly.

He lets himself test your reactions, seeing if the insertion is too much — if it hurts or feels uncomfortable. It doesn’t seem to be, and he slowly lets his ring finger join with his middle, causing you to roll your eyes back slightly.

“So good for me, baby,” he encourages. “Does that feel good?”

“Yes,” you reply almost immediately.

He kisses your neck. His lips leave hot, wet marks all over your skin as he curls his fingers against your g-spot. His other hand quickly comes to your waist, stabilizing you as you whimper against the back of your hand, trying your best to keep quiet.

He circles his thumb faster, his fingers circling and brushing against your g-spot in tandem with his movements. You feel your orgasm looming over you, and with a certain pressure against your clit, you’re coming undone just as he said you would all over his fingers.

“There you are,” he coaxes you. You’re a whimpering mess, and he feels his dick twitch at the sight of you falling apart on his fingers. He helps you ride out your high, his fingers very gently brushing over your clit as you come down.

Once you're calmed down, you reach around you, playing with his belt loop as you rest your head on his shoulder and look up at him. He looks back down, hesitating again knowing what you want but unsure if it’s too much for you to handle yet.

“What,” he smiles teasingly with a kiss to your forehead.

“I want you,” you candor, looking at up him with pleading eyes.

He kisses your nose. “Are you sure? You said it hurt last time.”

You nod. “Please, Koo,” you beg him.

His chest rises, and he takes a deep breath before he nods, kissing you gently as he unbuckles his belt. He places it on the counter before unzipping himself and pulling his pants down. It springs up, pressing itself against your skin gently. But he takes himself in his hands, hesitantly letting it slide down over your folds. 

“Let me know if I’m hurting you, okay?” He says, lining himself up to you with a few strokes of his cock. God, was he nervous. The last time sex hurt really bad for you, and that was just a week ago. He wonders if the prep was enough; he hopes it was, he really doesn’t want to hurt you again.

You nod, holding onto the countertop again as his tip rubs against your entrance. Your coat his cock in such slickness, even you’re surprised at how much you leak onto him. You miss your husband. You need this bad, and so does he.

“Oh, and try to stay quiet, yeah?” He says with a push of his hips. The motion has him covering your mouth with his hand, shielding your moans quickly. “The baby is still sleeping.”

His dick slips past your folds so smoothly, it has you gasping for breath at how good it feels. It’s nothing like the last time. He’s gentler, but still so so big, he fills you up just right.

“Fuck,” he whispers against your neck once he sheathes himself fully inside of you. The man behind you stills, completely overwhelmed with the feeling of you. He, too feels like he’s had to relearn sex all over again. How to please you right now that your body has changed, how to make sure that you are comfortable with his pace and size. You two haven’t had sex like this in so long, he feels overwhelmed when you feel almost too good for him to control. A part of him is embarrassed by how quickly he thinks he’s going to last. 

“How are you still so tight, hm?” he asks with a firm grip on your hip. “Y-You okay?”

You can only nod, pushing your hips down against him. The motion forces him further into you, to which both of you grunt at the feeling.

Testingly, Jungkook pulls out slowly, before pushing back into you a little quicker than before. You coat him generously, creating a motion that makes it easy for him to repeat. 

He develops a pace, fucking you against the kitchen countertop with your juices leaking all over his cock and down your thighs. The stove is on and your baby still sleeps; there are uncut vegetables in front of you and your husband still wears his work shirt. But he fucks you as if none of that matters. As if his only priority is to make sure you feel good, to let yourself go as he fuck you deep and just how you like it. 

His hand comes off from your mouth and settles on your hip. His other hand wraps around your front, holding you impossibly close against his body.

You moan softly when he bends you over slightly against the countertop, the new angle making it hard for you to stay quiet. But you push your hips against him anyway, telling him without words to go deeper.

The action causes him to moan, following your request with a snap of his hips.

“You like it that much, hm?” He grunts, cock ramming into you. “Like it when I knock you up good?”

“Y-Yes!” You whisper. “I love it so much, Koo.”

“Y-yeah?” He leans over you. A tattooed hand cups over yours, palm embracing the back of your hand as he intertwines his fingers with yours. “Gonna let me do it again?”

“Mmhm,” you squeeze his fingers. “As many times as y-you want.”

“A-Ah,” he pants, mind going into a frenzy over your words. The fact that he is yours, that you are his. That only he can hear you say that. That only he can make you feel this good. That only he has the privilege of calling you his wife. It makes his heart warm and his cock twitch. 

“God, I’m going to ruin you if you say things like that, Y/n,” he warns. But you are relentless, leaning your head back on his shoulder, giving yourself to him further. 

“W-Want you to,” you whimper. “I love you.” 

Your legs shake, completely weak from your past orgasm and your new one forming at the pit of your stomach. His cock makes you feel so full, like you’re stretched to the max capacity as he fucks you good. You know he’s close when his dick twitches inside of you after your words, which only encourages you to gain some strength and begin fucking yourself back on his cock.

“Mm, fuck,” he grips your hips tightly. “M’ gonna cum.”

He quickly reaches around you again, drawing infinities over your clit with his middle finger. His eyes roll back as your cunt naturally tightens at the feeling. Your hips jolt and the knots in your tummy slowly start to unravel themselves onto his dick as you come undone. Just as he had promised, with a final twitch, he’s cumming inside of you with hot, thick ropes filling you up with whispered exhales of your name on his lips.

He lets the two of you catch your breath, his forehead resting on your shoulder before he’s pulling out, shared cum leaking down your thighs and onto the floor. Quickly, he grabs a paper towel from the roll next to the stove and cleans you up a little.

With gentle hands, he helps you back into your sweats before he helps himself into his boxers. He still lingers behind you when he reaches a hand around you and turns the stove on a higher setting once again. 

You turn around, wrapping your hands around his neck as you pull him in for a much-needed kiss. “I love you,” you whisper against him again. His hair falls onto your skin, dark locks intertangling with yours as his fingers come up to hold your face against his. Soft lips sear over yours, telling you things that simply cannot be put into words. 

“I love you, too,” he brushes his nose against yours. “Was that okay? I didn’t hurt you?”

You pause, looking up at his dilated pupils. He looks at you like you're his world; like he's given you his heart with the full intent of never receiving it back from you. You nod, kissing him softly again. 

“You should probably wake up your son now,” you poke his cheek.

Looking at the time on the microwave, he snaps out of his daze. “Oh fuck,” he says as his fingers leave your side. You watch him leave you with a chuckle, turning back to your pasta wondering how in the world you go so lucky to marry and mother a kid to this man. You’d truly give him anything he wanted. 

***

[Bonus]

With gentle hands, so big against his baby’s frame, he picks Jaemun up in his arms, holding him against his chest. His dinosaur blanket swaddles him softly, and Jungkook does his best to make sure he’s correctly supported and held despite the extra fabric over his small frame. 

Jaemun stirs, and Jungkook places a soft kiss on his tiny head before he gets the chance to freak out and cry. The baby seems to know exactly who is holding him, and he nearly falls back asleep at the familiarity of his father’s arms. But Jungkook bounces him against his chest softly, slowly waking him up for dinnertime.

He makes his way over to you, making unnecessary airplane noises, from what you assume is Jungkook pretending to be an airplane and his son the passenger.

“You know, babies can’t laugh until they’re about 4 months,” you shake your head with a laugh.

“False,” your husband comes behind you again. “I swear he’s laughed before.”

You chuckle, taking the pan off the stove and pouring the insides into a strainer. Just the noodles are left in the strainer now, and you realize that you haven’t thought past the part of boiling the noodles. You ignore that you have no idea what kind of pasta you’re making when Jungkook rests himself against the kitchen island. 

Jaemun catches sight of you, and his arm reaches for you in Jungkook’s hold. You come over, giving him a kiss on the forehead before kissing your husband.

“Were you serious?” your husband asks you suddenly. 

“About?” you raise your eyebrow. 

“You know,” he gulps, holding Jaemun a little tighter. He rests against Jungkook's shoulder, his eyes tempting to fall back asleep again. “More kids.” 

You raise both your eyebrows again, looking at him as if he was serious. His heart beats faster when he realizes what you’re thinking, quickly rephrasing himself. 

“N-Not now, of course,” he gulps. 

You turn around, opening the fridge for some milk for Jaemun as you listen to him. You take out a pot, take the cased breast milk from earlier, and pour it in, turning on the stove afterward. 

“I just mean, like, in the future,” he explains.

There’s a long pause as you wait for the pot to heat up enough. The man behind you is weak, and you don’t know if you want to be mean and give him the blunt answer, or soften the blow. Watching how he cradles your son makes you want to go with the first choice. 

“Don’t you worry Jeon,” you start, as you stir the contents in the pot. You can hear him gulp behind you. “I planned on giving you as many babies as you want. But at least wait until Jaemun is in pre-school or something. I don’t think I can handle two infants at once.” 

You hear little from him at your answer, leaving you smirking knowing full well that you put the man behind you in a frenzy imagining the future you just laid out for him.

***

[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts , 2023]

[spelllingandthemysteryschool]

When my mother told me she wished she had gotten a divorce before I was born, I could tell from her tone that this was different from all the times she’d look at me and ask God, like I was God, why he had punished her with me. It wasn’t about trying to make me wish I was a better child, just that I was not a child anymore and she felt she had to warn me not to repeat her life but continue it and perhaps by continuing it, set it right. Once she made me kneel facing the wall and stretch my arms as high as they would go, and watched my little back tremble until I could hold my arms no longer. When she asked me what I’d learned I remember I wanted to scream I hate you but knew somehow it would hurt her more if I screamed I hate myself, I hate myself, so I did, over and over, I knew when you watch a person you love collapse into themselves you want nothing more than to run into the boxing ring, the battleground of them, take all the blows they deal, all the shots they fire into the enemy of their own being. If I could I would without a second thought unravel the knot of my mother’s heart into something like sense, and if it’s true what they say about how when you have a child your heart begins to live outside your body I would undo my life and throw it to her like a rope, like I were a climber at the top of the mountain and she’d left something up there before making her way down and needed to go back for it one more time. If I saw my own heart, helpless and unknowing creature, living outside me, I would also want to tell it to kneel against the wall and raise its arms until it could account for what it had made of my life. In a note she left in my bag when I went to sleepaway camp she said to be my mother was the greatest joy of her life and I knew, even at ten, there were greater joys she had wanted, they lived in her dreams and disappeared when she woke to make my breakfast each morning, and I wanted so badly then to be those dreams, to disappear.

Helplessness’ Child by Kaylee Young-Eun Jeong

[ihaveverything]

Limitless manifesting for beginners

part I - the basic concepts

part II - states, techniques, change

part III - mental diet, sats

part IV - daily life, time

ʚ part V - resistance, faith, the ''real'' world

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Changing your life can happen faster than you ever possibly imagined, but you first have to understand the basics of who you are. This goes beyond the common saying of “you don’t manifest what you want, you manifest who you are” into a deeper spiritual truth about our existence as souls and a reality far greater than what we see now. Each of us has many probable lives, access to infinite probable realities, and is truly the sole creator for our individual reality.

“First of all, a soul is not something that you have. It is what you are.” – Seth Speaks: The Eternal Validity of the Soul

Resistance

To enter a state is not the most difficult thing. In fact, it should be rather effortless, until the factor of resistance and strain comes in. There is no benefit in affirming or visualizing against how you feel, because the latter will always be the victor. In fact, it only reinforces lack because of avoidance.

“There is a great difference between resisting evil and renouncing it. When you resist evil, you give it your attention; you continue to make it real. When you renounce evil, you take your attention from it and give your attention to what you want.” – Neville Goddard, The Power of Awareness

Since we live in a physical reality, we often identify with the part of us that is responsible for daily activities, and we barely give any thought to the unconscious portion of ourselves that is the basis for creating the experience around us. We rely on our senses to survive and allow the outside world to determine how we feel. However, the concept of us being more than a physical form has been discussed in both scientific and spiritual fields. As you have likely learned from Neville and / or Seth, our consciousness is far more than a production of the neurons in our brain. Our own physical form, which we have so strongly identified with, is just like a custom fitting glove that we are constantly creating to suit our needs. We are in the physical as Gods in training, learning how to use our thoughts to create our human experience. This gift is something we were born with, and although the Law is not common knowledge to most people in this world, the truth about reality and our identity is not hidden. It is displayed in each of our lives on a daily basis, with a perfect correlation between the states we’ve been entertaining and the events that occur.

“However, the understanding of the causes of your experience, and the knowledge that you are the sole creator of the contents of your life, both good and bad, not only make you a much keener observer of all phenomena, but through the awareness of the power of your consciousness, intensify your appreciation of the richness and grandeur of life.” – Neville Goddard, The Power of Awareness

Knowing this perspective of being a fragment of God, it is completely up to us to create anything we desire with our imagination. There are 3D circumstances that seem to hold us back, but if you really think about it, what’s more limitless? The 3D world or your imagination? And which comes first? The imagination. Sometimes we wish things were different, we hope this will change, we wonder if that can happen, but notice how none of these are a solid confidence in your experience now. You are the only one limiting yourself to your 3D circumstances. Breaking free of this mindset can be as simple as remembering who we truly are and what our purpose on Earth is. No one knows what your individual purpose for coming here is, but just as an example, let’s say it’s to learn how to create a long lasting relationship with someone you love because that was something you failed to do in the previous life. You chose this life and consented to your current circumstances as a second try, but when you surrender your mind to what you created in the first place, it’s really just disappointing yourself for a second time when you could’ve taken this opportunity to learn. Now that was just a probable situation, and it doesn’t apply to everyone, but if you accept a new view of life and allow yourself to feel connected to infinite possibilities, doesn’t that sound much easier and more powerful than feeling stranded in a 3D world?

“How many of you would want to limit your reality, your entire reality, to the experience you now know? You do this when you imagine that your present self is your entire personality, or insist that your identity be maintained unchanged through an endless eternity.” – Seth Speaks: The Eternal Validity of the Soul

“It is not that physical reality is false. It is that the physical picture is simply one of an infinite number of ways of perceiving the various guises through which consciousness expresses itself.” – Seth Speaks: The Eternal Validity of Soul

Manifesting is effortless because it’s a decision, not a chore. If you were asked to get from Paris to Tokyo without a plane, that’s gonna take a lot of effort. You were not asked to do so. The key points to making that mental decision effortless is understanding life from a creator’s eyes + playfully using your imagination beneficially + gentle reminders that creation is finished + repeatedly making the same choice for which reality you will experience without trying to change anything in the 3D. As the Seth quote above says, your physical reality is not fake, and it’s actually a misconception to believe so. The people you meet everyday are real human beings with the same feelings and consciousness you have. However, there are many different versions of what you can experience, so your goal is to select something new. Telling yourself that 4D is the only real world and 3D is fake can lead to delusion or inner conflict when everything around you seems so real (which it is), because it could cause a spiral. If your SP left you in this reality, it does not mean that they are a fake puppet who doesn’t have a mind of their own. All it means is that your circumstances are aligned with whatever states you were dominantly entertaining, but you can change that at any moment. People often get confused with how to view the 3D because it gives them the most resistance, which brings them closer to trying rather than effortless manifesting. Your experience is made of internal selections, choices, and decisions. Choosing something better for yourself should be as easy as second nature, because who doesn’t want a better life?

“You must begin to trust yourself sometime. I suggest you do it now. If you do not then you will forever be looking to others to prove your own merit to you, and you will never be satisfied. You will always be asking others what to do, and at the same time resenting those from whom you seek such aid.” – Seth, The Nature of Personal Reality

Everyone who reads Neville and Seth should have come to the realization that we are connected to God / source. There is absolutely no power outside of you that determines your reality, so there’s really no reason for us to trust anyone but ourselves. Seeking outside help for more knowledge is a good start, but ultimately experience and application is the breakthrough moment for most people’s understanding in the Law. Nothing beats the feeling of your first major manifestation coming into fruition and you start thinking what more you can do next. Sometimes the only thing that stops you from seeing manifestation as effortless is having one foot in and one foot out. If you take a step forward but keep looking back at where you were before, then you haven’t really bought the Pearl of Great Price like Neville says. No teacher, book, guide, or video can do the mental work for you. At the end of the day your biggest motivator will and should always be yourself, because you need the drive to change your life.

Faith

When considering the best way to manifest your desires, it’s important to recognize that if you were bound to the 3d limitations of this world, many fundamental concepts such as creation is finished, infinite versions of yourself and others, different probable realities, imagination is not fiction, etc wouldn’t exist. Having an intellectual understanding of these things is not the same as feeling an emotional connection. Since the Law of Assumption places faith in breaking free of limitations and opening our minds to endless possibilities, it would also be helpful to view ourselves from a different perspective.

When people spiral over circumstances or are feeling resistance when doing techniques or returning to the state of the wish fulfilled, it is often because they lack a sense of control. They may view the current situation as solid, or their beliefs are too deeply rooted so they can’t see how the things they put attention on aren’t actually objective facts about reality. They could also feel like they are at a disadvantage, or are unsure of what to do when met with undesirable events because they aren’t finding comfort or confidence in accepting that they are actually the sole creator of their reality.

“Do not judge after the appearances of a thing. In judging after appearances you forget that all things are possible. Hypnotized as they were to the reality of appearances they could not feel the naturalness of sanity. The only way for you to avoid such failures is to constantly bear in mind that your awareness is the Almighty, all-wise presence, who without help, effortlessly out-pictures that which you are aware of being. Be perfectly indifferent to the evidence of the senses, so that you may feel the naturalness of your desire–and your desire will be realized. Turn from appearances and feel the naturalness of perfect sanity and sanity will embody itself. Your desire is the solution of your problem. As the desire is realized, the problem is dissolved.” – Neville Goddard, I Know My Father

Essentially what Neville explains in his teachings is that it is beneficial to live life from “God mode”, or in other words, a perspective where you truly are the only cause for every external materialization in the 3d world. I understand that there are many religious people who also follow manifestation content, and their beliefs may not resonate with saying “I am God”, which is perfectly fine. Ultimately the goal of this perspective is not to claim power for vanity, but to gain confidence and understanding in knowing just because you are a human, it does not mean manifestation is a powerless being trying to do magic tricks to make a miracle happen. When we view the Law as an unbelievable or difficult promise, mental dieting becomes much harder because there is a belief that prevents us from seeing things as attainable, or even effortless and naturally promised to us. The “God mode” perspective is helpful because it allows us to feel more connected with infinite possibilities that easily dissolves doubts and fears surrounding circumstances. Think about it this way, would God worry about being blocked by their person? Would God worry about not passing a job interview or not having enough money? No of course not, so you shouldn’t worry either. What you can gain from the Law of Assumption is fulfillment of your dreams and desires, so aligning your perception of yourself with someone that is easily capable of getting such things will lift a weight off your shoulders.

When you are going about life attending to your daily commitments, it can be easy to forget this perspective, because certainly anyone would look at you weirdly if you claimed “I am God and you are too”, but if you treat this as a playful reminder and an internal understanding that benefits your manifestation, it won’t feel like you’re usurping power. If you are waiting in line at the store or cooking at home and your mind wanders to the unlovely things, observe how you’re viewing yourself. Are you surrendering to physical human senses, or are you taking control by confidently returning to this new perspective?

Resistance is often defined by the emotions and thoughts we have, but if you think about where they come from, the root is always a belief. All circumstances, no matter big or small, are no trouble if you start believing in things that allow you to feel more powerful. You cannot possibly feel upset over something when you know you are connected to God and things will change because you say so. View life from the eyes of God, and your circumstances will reflect that back to you eventually.

Additionally, faith is believing in the unseen. How do you know what is unseen and what is improbable? You need to test it out. People always want to rely on others for motivation and success, but your life is your life. You have full responsibility and control over it, and there’s no excuse for anyone to stop themselves from reaching success because they always want to hear about someone else’s story first. It does not do well to compare or to worry. All the answers you need are within you. Ask yourself before you ask someone else, and learn to give yourself the willpower you need. A leap of faith is not as complicated or scary as it seems. You will gain faith after you realize this works for me, I’ve done it and now I will do it again. Joy from seeing other people’s stories will never be the same as the feeling of winning on your own. It’s understandable to question the Law after a significant period of no results, but ask yourself this question, “Have I truly changed my beliefs?” If the answer is no, then there’s no reason to doubt the Law, because you haven’t met the condition under which your 3D will reflect your desire. If the answer is yes, then that means you believe with full conviction that you already have what you want. With that being the case, then you are someone new. Why would that new version of you question where your results are? The logic of the Law is that you won’t get hurt or disappointed from applying it. Success is inevitable, and if you’re applying it properly, then there’s no reason for you to feel negative anymore.

The ''real'' world

I’m sure many people have wondered at least once in their lifetime what the meaning of life is, why are humans here, and what happens after death. There are curious minds that think about this existential question frequently, and people who don’t care about spirituality and manifestation beyond achieving their own desires. And that’s perfectly fine. People hold different beliefs all around the world. From religious ones to scientific theories, there’s always been a central question of what is the true purpose of our existence. The Law of Assumption is closely tied to metaphysical concepts such as the multiverse theory, cognitive scientific conclusions that studies how the brain / mind alters and shapes our realities, psychological perspectives on emotions and their subjectivity, etc. Manifesting is not a baseless optimistic lifestyle, nor is it confirmation bias. The Seth Material has introduced an extensive and detailed collection of works that explain how we have come to this world to experience life as humans. We are learning and evolving, shaping our realities with our thoughts, beliefs, and expectations. Seth even dives into the afterlife to explain death, afterlife choices, and other planetary existences and communities. He explains our existence:

“I am telling you that you are not a cosmic bag of bones and flesh, thrown together through some mixture of chemicals and elements. I am telling you that your consciousness is not some fiery product, formed merely accidentally through the interworkings of chemical components.” – Seth Speaks: The Eternal Validity of the Soul

For the people who found this material intriguing, some may have come to the realization that the world is quite more complex than what we can perceive right now. It is not to say that spiritual findings and beliefs should take over our daily life and affect our ways of living by completely branching off into a secluded mindset that differs from any other normal social interactions we may have. From my perspective, it’s a proposal that may be beneficial to those who are feeling lost or powerless. To recognize and embrace life as an experiential game of choices rather than an unknown path of challenges is a way to understand effortless manifesting. The most limitless we can be is always within our imagination, because it’s truly a place of possibilities, freedom, and creativity, so enjoy it.

“Suffering is not good for the soul, unless it teaches you how to stop suffering. That is its purpose.” ― Seth Speaks: The Eternal Validity of the Soul

[huellitaa]

𓏲˳˚⊹ 🧸 become obsessed with yourself.

you are stupid. i said it. there. you are stupid.

let me get this straight. you are out here listening to these people who make you insecure. you are listening and actually giving a shit about people who put you down, make you feel unworthy, inferior, less of the absolute goddess that you are. you people please, you go above and beyond to help people & change yourself for people who would never do the same and for what. for people to like you? honey nobodys gonna like you. you dont even like yourself.

listen ml you need to get your priorities straight. sit down for a sec. like. just sit and genuinely ask yourself "what do i get out of this? how does this serve me?". go on, ask yourself. all these people who constantly think theyre better than you, that they can walk all over you, the ones that dont care a bit for you with their actions even if their words say otherwise, all these habits that only make you feel more low, more insecure, and dont align with where you wanna go in any way, shape or form. honey how in the hell does any of this serve you ???😭😭

i am sick to death of seeing the word selfish everywhere the moment somebody steps up and is brave enough to try and better themselves. the amount of times ive gotten "youre so selfish" or "youve changed" or "you werent like this before" jst because i got out of the most severe depression of my life where i came close to being unalive so many times is riDICULOUS and just shows how normalised insecurity and people pleasing is nowadays.

you see, people are always trying to follow the trend, follow the leader, follow everyone else nowadays. nobody actually honours what they want & that is a reflection of their own insecurity and traumas and emotions they are too scared to face. do you really want that for yourself? youve got such big dreams, such big potential, but what on earth do you do to fulfill them?

i dont think you realise just how limitless you actually are. you can do anything. we are all born the same. its only those with the courage to get up and try who will reach what they want and achieve greater things.

GET OBSESSED WITH YOURSELF. i am so DRAINED and TIRED of caring about what people think. i like something? im gonna do it. i dont care. fuck people pleasing. what are they gonna do when youre rich and famous and successful and thriving? YOU ARE THE ONLY VALIDATION YOU NEED. life is so much easier when you genuinely could not care less, like you just dont give a single shit. you are the only person who knows you inside out and will be there with you 24/7 365. it infuriates me how self hatred is so normalised nowadays. like what the actual fuck, why would you wanna spend your entire life hating the only person whos gonna be with you every second without fail, when you are perfectly capable of reversing that???? its ridiculous.

get up. get obsessed with yourself. the only validation you should be chasing is your own. pull yourself together girl. this is ridiculous. you are so much more than this. start acting like it. be ur own biggest fan. be ur own bestest friend. everything you need is already within you. u got this. 💕

all my love 💓✨💗💘🎀💖

[lady-ashfade]

Could I please have blueberry cookies with Jacaerys for hotd?

Made A Fool.

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!Reader

Bakery Event - closed

╰･ﾟ✧☽ summery: after the betrothal to the Prince Jacaerys, you thought it would be the happiest moments of your life given your years spent with him. Happiest is a sliver of what you feel, after he avoids your every move.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ words: 2.2k

╰･ﾟ✧☽ warnings: Luke never dies, rhaenryas miscarriage is mentioned, angst, jace being dick, jace accusing you because he’s jealous, betrothal, angst with a happy ending, readers family being near the Starks and long family friends, arguing.

⤻ I got carried away so this is longer then it should be.

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚ 🍪 ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚

During your young years at dragon stone, you found yourself becoming great companions with the princess’s sons. Rhaenyra took you into her home with open arms, she raised you like her own when your mother was a sea away. But her eldest son was easily the most precious thing you come to love, it started out when he gave you flowers— actually weeds— but pretty nonetheless and warmed your heart like dragon fire.

The both of you glued to each others side as the years went by, no one could deny the smiles and laughs you’d share like nothing else matter. Jace was a gentle man, held no grudge or power over you for being born a woman, even encouraged you to learn the sword with him. His blood was of the dragon so he had tendencies to be hot headed and rash when angered. All it took was the gentle touch of your fingertips on his cheeks to calm the dragon within him. Though, you two never knew of each others true feelings, he knew you cared very deeply for him.

“And what do you think of this?” Her grace looked softly at you, sitting down with a pained expression from the loss of the babe in her belly. The question of if you wanted the proposal to her eldest son, something your father wished for his loyalty to her claim. Throughout the years your father never mentioned that he even liked jace, in each letter sent he reminded you that your only duty was to the princess. So, you wonder is this had been his plan all along? A son for his daughter—Dragons for his grandchildren.

“Your grace, I ensure you that I did not come here for a marriage pa-” her smile and hushed laughter stopped you, and made your head tilt in confusion. Rhaenyra ran her hands along her lap, something was amusing to her and made embarrassment sit restless inside you. “I know, sweetgirl. There was never a doubt you were here for this, you care for my boys and me, that much is very clear.” her words made you relived. Her hands moved to the cushion beside her to signal you over. “Join me,”

You obeyed her wish and walked over nervously, the conversation to come was running in your mind of every way this could go. She didn’t see you fit for her son—not good enough. Or even worse, could call you greedy for being her only for her sons even it wasn’t the truth. Everything was spinning as you took your place next to her. “What I asked was if you wanted this marriage? I am forever grateful for you and your family and the support for the war to come, I will agree to the betrothal— but I believe you should have a say in this.”

Gulping the spit in your mouth to cover the butterflies in your throat you stare for a second to get the right words in your head. Jacaerys was the love of your life for years, your own prince from the story books told to young girls. To imagine actually get to be betrothed to him was a dream come true but also a nightmare to convey out loud. “My queen, I will do my duty if you wish.” You picked at your nails while avoiding her gaze. The queen reached her hand to caress your cheek, while turning your head to face her. There was no greater feeling then her soften gaze, “Do you want this? You’re answer will never hurt me.” and you knew you couldn’t refuse the offer because it made your heart happy.

“Yes, Your Grace. I would be pleased to marry Jacaerys.”

The announcement pleased the court of men, knowing your family’s army wouldn’t bend the knee to aegon, even though jace smiled at you- he walked to the other side right after and began to ignore you. Of course, you put it off as his duties were more important and he meant no offense. As men pushed your house piece along the board, giving your impression of what your father wanted, jace kept his eyes off you as you spoke. And you knew he could feel your staring. Again, at dinner while you took your place beside him— his attention was anywhere but on you. This didn’t go unnoticed by only you, his brother Luke happened to think it strange. He was always all over you and now he can’t spare you one look?

Luke decided to save you from feeling lonely and embarrassed so he decided to turn on his charm, something you always thought was adorable about the boy. He would whisper some jokes only for your ears, and as your cheeks flushed red from the wine served he finally asked you to join him for a dance. Though the dinner was small, and in the middle of a war- it was still a celebration of alliance. Decided to dance with Luke, you had a fun time and forgot about jace for a while. This was supposed to be a good day, so you’ll have to push yourself. Luke was like a brother to you, so it was easy to be entertained by him.

The absence of jace brought you down, it’s been a few days since you two actually had a conversation, or he’d actually look at you without someone else expecting him to. Yes, you understand the war at hand, and how much needs to be done and you can’t have his attention all the time. But he made no efforts to speak with you, or acted like he used to—Acted like your future husband. That’s what sprouted anger within you, and you were annoyed and snapped easily.

“My men with have a easier time rallying in the north, my letters to Cregan-” the words cut from your mouth when jace interrupted. His jaw tighter and a harsh glare made it harder to not burst into a screaming match. He had been giving attitude to his mother with the same expression. He hadn’t looked at you in weeks and this is what he was doing?

“You sent letters to Cregan? Why? I visited him nearly days ago,” his voice raised and made everyone in the room look back and forth wonder if they should cut in. “He offered graybeards.”

You roll your eyes at him, “The Starks have been my friends with my family for years, I convinced him to lend a few, young men. No old bones, no offense my lords, but men with stranger arms.” The way he was looking at you, you’d been dead. Many years you saw him angry, annoyed and ready to fight anything that crosses him. Never did you think you’d be on the end of his temper.

“Tell me, how exactly you persuaded him?” everyone could tell he meant nothing well by his accusing statement. You huff and get ready to comment when Rhaenrya placed and hand on your shoulder while Luke got in Jaces vision of you. “And I thank you for that, any swords are welcome.” She rubbed your skin and moved her head towards the door, allowing you to leave as you were visibly upset. Excusing your leaving, Jace watched you leave and turned his whole body. He couldn’t shake the feel inside when the meeting continued and didn’t speak a word, his thoughts only on you.

Jace marched through the halls with haste to your chambers, he saw no reason to knock so the door opened with him already flaring his nostrils. The surprise of the door opening with forced and quickly made you jump from your table, the ink dropped onto your skin from the quill in your hand dropping as you stood up from the chair. “What’s the meaning of this? You can’t just-” Jace walks towards you, making you back up at his pace.

“Me? It’s I who should be asking same question, what in the seven hells was that? Back in the war room?” he yelled at you. You stood only a few steps away and could practically could feel heat from him caused by his seething anger.

“What, are you accusing me of starting it? I simply stated my opinion with my houses army. You couldn’t handle me disagreeing with you?” You head twists and turn with your words, and eyes look all over the room.

He groaned and his eyes darkened, he stood closer to yell in your face. “I have a problem with my betrothed making it known she sends letters to another man. You must want me to look a fool. Have you and him been sending letters for years?” your mouth drops in disbelief at his ignorance words, “He told me he only could give old men, but you somehow convinced him to give us more? Has he declared his love for you, do you swoon in the letters for him?”

“You idiot, you think you have the right to ask me- To think that of me?” You push his chest back away from you, then walk away with a annoyed laugh.

Standing with your hands arching your back on your hips, you look back at him, “It has been you who ignores me frequently, pasted nights without a word from you other then small formalities.” rubbing the skin on your forehead, you breath heavily. “All I have done is be there by your side, never let my feelings get in the way of our friendship. I’d think you’d at least honor that, but somehow you hate the thought of marriage to me so much you pretend I cease to exist.” only now was he knocked off thoughts when your eyes became slightly glossy. Jace couldn’t tell if it was in sadness or anger, or both.

“So no, Your Grace. If you speculate I ever did anything to make Cregan think he’d fight for me, or give him the idea I wanted him. You’d be deadly wrong. Because I have spent years hoping, that one day, you’d care about me that same why I do for you.” turning around to hide the tears escaping, you grab the chair to calm yourself down. He deserved no tears from you or to see you broken, so you had to collect yourself before him.

Brown orbs stares at the back of your head, arms wanted to reach out and comfort you like he did before. Jace never meant to make you feel like this nor that he hates the idea of being with you, romantically. The one things he could never truly show was weakness and when he heard you’d be his, that’s all he felt. Knowing that his enemies would target you. That if you were in trouble you and hurt? It would be his fault.

“Seven hells,” he whispered and tugged at the skin own lips. “Forgive me, for being a jest. I never thought about how you would feel.” straightening yourself and whipped off the tears from your cheeks, you keep your eyes on the wall ahead with your back still turned.

“This betrothal…It brings me joy. From a little boy I have always thought you were a beauty, wanted to fight for your attention against my brother.” the memory of his youth made him smile, “I thought that if I distance myself from you— You’d be safer from the dangers from the greens. I would die if something happened to you just because I love you.”

Spinning around towards him, your brows frown, “You love me?” he nodded his head.

“I do. I have since our youth when you loved the flowers i brought you, even though you knew it was weeds, but you put them into your hair, and placed the prettiest behind my ear.” he admitted. The distant laughter filled both of your minds of that wonderful day, the same day you had also fallen for him.

“You have a strange way of showing it.” You mocked with a growing smile. Jace was hesitant to walk closer, he was unsure if you wanted him to after everything. Your eyes drew him close, and let him get so close that you placed your hand on his chest.

“I am at a threat with or without our marriage, let us face the dangers together. I don’t want either of us to be alone.” taking his heated cheek into your palm, you looked into his eye’s wishful for him never to pull away. The touch was simple, but it had him caving underneath you and wanted more. Licking his lips he stared at yours, hoping you would give him the consent to close the gap between the both of you. One small agreement of a nod he was pressing his lips against yours, his hands resting themselves onto your hips. First kisses are soft, gentle but he was passionate and a little edger to finally get his wish. His hold on you tightened protectively as if someone was threatening you in the moment.

Pulling away from the kiss, both your mouthes covered in wetness, and cheeks heated with hormones. “Are you sure cregan hasn’t declared anything for you? He’d be a fool if not-” you took his lips onto yours to shut him up and his playful jealousy.

A dragon protects what is theirs, and as his future queen consort, he was nothing if not overprotective over you.

[kimikitti]

Hi! Sorry if there’s a lore doc or something I missed but I saw your new Obi design and the overblot doodles and would love to know the lore! From my understanding, Obi can consume magic? Did he use that to tame overblots? I’m completely enamored by the idea that all these big scary monsters are just hanging out in Ramshackle. Are the house wardens comfortable visiting with them around?

Co-parenting with the manifestation of your childhood trauma is always better with a smoothie.

(LOL there is no lore doc. It's just me cryptically posting about Obi and the phantoms and then bouncing. Thank you for the wonderful opportunity for me to rant about the lore I have bouncing around my brain. Also, I probably should make a tag to make all this lore stay in one place. Rant below the cut (May contain slight spoilers))

Obi and the phantoms:

To answer your first question: Yes, Obi can consume magic. In fact, he needs to consume it to survive. When he consumes magic, they taste like words and information. If he eats a spell, Obi gains an understanding of the spell's nature and effects. Repeated consumption of the same spell can lead to greater revelations. Obi is not totally conscious of this ability, as the information he gains seems to have always existed to him.

Did he use that to tame overblots?

No, the phantoms are not really beings that can be tamed. Obi devoured them during the overblot. And wakes up with a book in his clutches. Said books are how he summons the phantoms once again.

Each phantom takes on a personality and ability separate but similar to their original creator. Some phantoms are more willing than others to be cooperative.

Obi doesn't really mind much. Unwanted creations should stick together. It's better than being alone.

Are the house wardens comfortable visiting with them around?

Some of them are, for some it takes more time to warm up to the idea of the phantoms. After all, its hard to be totally ok with a being born of their worse moments. I can run through some general attitudes.

Riddle: Absolutely terrified at first. But seems dedicated to "educating" his phantom. He comes around a lot. (The phantom loves this)

Leona: Comes by frequently but he does not seem to show a strong interest in his own phantom, brings meat. (The phantom also appears uninterested in its creator, but has been seen curling around leona while he's taking a nap)

Azul: Does not come by at all. (The phantom hates this, but understands)

Jamil: The phantom often seeks Jamil out frequently, seems to have a strong desire to bring gifts to its creator. It is unclear how Jamil feels about this. (Jamil is unsure about this, Kalim loves this)

Vil: The phantom hides from Vil. It is ashamed. (Vil dislikes this, but is trying to coax it out)

Idia: Ortho... sleeps most of the time. He wishes to be near his brother but is often not strong enough to be the dominant desire among them. Idia and Ortho visit frequently they love to play video games together. (Ortho loves this)

Malleus:

(I honestly love coming up with the phantoms and their respective lore so if you're interested to learn more please let me know! Thank you for the questions)

[in-class-daydreams]

What would Satoru’s and readers son’s reaction be seeing old baby pics of himself with satoru carrying him + them being all cute? Or even old home videos 🥹🥲

Oh, you KNOW 20-something new dad!Gojo took pictures on pictures on pictures. Bought a brand new camcorder and everything.

Here are a few highlights:

A video of Little Sen putting his baby blanket over his eyes and y’all are like, “Aww, are you trying to be like daddy?” And little Sen just shouts, “PURPLE!” It was his first two-syllable word ever (and it was more like “pur-po! but same thing)

Another vid of Satoru playing peek-a-boo while Sen’s playing in the living room but he actually disappears by teleporting and you yell at him

A picture of the three of you at the hospital when Sen was born and on the back it says, “Carried him for 9 months and he looks just like his dad. Traitor.”

In a scrapbook somewhere is Sen’s first pair of sunglasses. They’re more transparent than Satoru’s because the six-eyes aren’t so overwhelming yet, but Satoru cried when he brought them home. They have little dinosaurs on the sides 🥺

Sen’s ire overall has less to do with himself and more to do with how he loves and protects his mama.

She’s always told him how much his father loved them but to him, he didn’t love his family enough to fight to stay with them. Being with your family is an even greater endeavor than just protecting your family in Sen’s eyes.

~

Thank you so much for the ask!

Click [here] for more of Sen being mean to his dad | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]

[nariism]

those words you spoke to me — i. sae

"i'm done waiting" + "i think i'm in love with you" + "don't look at me that way" + unrequited love

synopsis. you were always staring at itoshi sae's back. he was forever chasing something greater, not once turning around to see that look in your eyes.

wc. ~1.2k

— for @verysium i hope this is enough angst for you... | event masterlist ✉️

Hell comes in the form of Itoshi Sae.

He's too pretty for his own good, handsome and impossibly solid. He has this expression, too—cold and calculating, easy to admire so long as you aren't on the receiving end of his scrutinizing eyes.

Sae is a wonder of the world, a whirlwind of talent and fame and witty remarks and everything in between. He's the entirety of the word football, syllable to syllable, playing as if he were damned to do so. As if he were only ever born to decimate a soccer field. As if the universe had swallowed up the meaning of anything else in his heart long before he was even born.

Hell comes in the form of Itoshi Sae.

Your next door neighbour. The one who smacks you behind the head when you're being impolite to your elders. The one who makes sure your legs are properly tucked under the kotatsu so nonchalantly, as if he's incapable of telling you he cares any other way.

You're confident that he's this beautiful in every other life, in every reincarnation, in every world. That perfection could only possibly exist simmering in his soul.

Teal eyes that blink at you in confusion and annoyance, yet have an unmistakable fondness hidden beneath the stormy waters of his irises; soft hair slicked back because he couldn't be bothered to deal with his bed head; lashes that hug his waterline—you're not sure you'll witness raw beauty like this again in your lifetime.

Hell comes in the form of Itoshi Sae. You know that much for sure.

If you ever lost your memory you're certain you would know him still: the feeling of his back against you as he shields you from his screaming brother, the smell of his cologne permanently dancing under your nose. You would know the expanse of his skin, every light freckle on his nose, the firmness of his chest beneath your palms.

Hell comes in the form of Itoshi Sae. You could crumble to your knees and tell him everything—the love you harbour for him, the way he has devoured your heart. But truth be told, he's the devil. He could never love you back—not in this life. Not in any other.

You knew that. So why are you still standing on his front porch in the middle of the night?

"I'm in love with you."

He stares at you absently from his door, hand gripping the handle so tight that his knuckles are turning white.

"That's not funny," he scoffs.

"It's not a joke."

His gaze sharpens into a glare, head tilting back almost as if he's looking down on you. It's a foreign feeling, one that you'd witnessed a million and one times before but never felt for yourself—to be unwanted by Sae. To be without meaning.

"The fuck is wrong with you?" He hisses. It appears that he's bubbling with emotion, but you can't figure out which ones. "I'm supposed to get on this plane in eight hours."

Ah, Spain. He was leaving and you'd never be able to stop him if you tried. If you did, you're positive that he would rip through you like a bullet with no remorse.

"I love you," you repeat. He falters, eyes roaming your expression to try and understand what the hell you're doing.

What are you doing? You have to wonder that for yourself.

You were always staring at Sae's back. He was the one who stood between you and Rin when you fought, protecting you from his temperamental little brother despite thinking you were both being idiots. He was the one who sat in front of you in class, passing his eraser whenever you kicked the back of his chair. He was the one on the other end of the field, attacking enemy territories while you were left behind in the bleachers.

He was forever chasing something greater, not once turning around to see that look in your eyes. He was born to be more than a lover, a friend, a companion. Itoshi Sae was destined for perfection, to be out of reach despite being so close.

But you'd mistaken his rotten kindness for love too many years ago to take it back, never able to undo the knots he had tied in your stomach.

You wanted to be selfish, just this once. You wanted to be seen, to know that he knows. You've waited long enough.

If Sae was born to play football, you're sure you were only ever born into this world to chase after him. To love him so much that it ate your flesh.

"I just had to tell you. At least once in my life, I had to."

"Stop looking at me like that—"

"I've always loved you."

"—it's pathetic."

Silence fills the air and you suddenly become hyper aware of how many tears have gathered in the corners of your eyes; the heat of your sorrow streaming down your face.

For a moment, he hesitates. There's that familiar fondness glimmering in his gaze, soft and reserved for you. His childhood friend—the one who kept losing all his erasers and the one whose voice he could hear cheering for him from all the way down the field.

Then it melts away, and he looks at you with utter indifference. You think that he's unfairly good at hiding his thoughts behind a mask of apathy.

"I don't know what you want me to say," he whispers.

I want you to love me back. "You don't have to say anything."

He looks at you for a long time, just staring. There's conflict swimming in every part of his expression, lips parting then shutting again as if he can't decide how to respond.

"I think you should leave."

You blink at him, at the bluntness of his words. You've witnessed this before; the way he so easily pushes others away when he feels too vulnerable. To be loved is to be seen, to be known, and Sae wants none of that.

"If that's what you want."

Some part of you deep down knows that it's not what he wants. That there are words unspoken tangled up in his throat. But his apprehension is enough, telling you that his heart is devoid of space for another human even if he wished for it to be different.

"It is," he strains out, lying through his teeth. "I don't love you that way. You're like a sibling—"

"Don't do that," you interrupt, drawing away from him. "Just break my heart, please."

"I don't love you." And he leaves it at that.

Hell comes in the form of Itoshi Sae. It's a notion that follows you as you walk down the driveway toward your stalled car, left running because deep down you already knew his answer.

The beauty of his forbidden paradise drives you to turn around, too, and just like every other time his back is turned to you. His hand rests on the handle of his door, yet his body is frozen in place. You wait for a moment, eyes cast over your shoulder to see if he'll turn around and finally look your way.

He doesn't.

(You've driven off by the time he comes back outside, watching the back of your car pull away into the fog.

He's done the right thing, he thinks. He could never stand watching you cry.)

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

[pollyanna-nana]

Imagine you’re Delgal. Imagine you were raised from birth alongside the court jester. You do everything together. You look up to him, being so much older. He seems wise and responsible, and always encouraging you and caring for you, more than your own busy parents are able to. In every sense of the word, he is your brother, despite how different you look and the distance of your station. The people around you tell you that he is an elf, the tone of their voice implying that’s something scary or even dangerous. But you disagree. That’s Thistle, your big brother.

But… as you age, things become confusing. You get taller, smarter, stronger, and Thistle is there for you through it all. Only… he never seems to change. In your entire journey to adulthood, he hardly seems to have aged a few years, if that. It’s amusing when you first grow taller than him, then grow facial hair, while Thistle’s short stature and youthful face remains the same. Still, you love him, love his music and his wit and even the bold-faced honesty that gets him in trouble if you’re not around to diffuse the situation. You wonder why such a person has been relegated to the inglorious job of jester, and your father tells you very simply that the magic elves wield is too powerful and dangerous to belong to any other position. But you think that’s nonsense, you’ve trusted Thistle from the day you were born and would do so until the day you die.

It isn’t until what should’ve been the happiest day of your life that you truly start to understand just how different Thistle is from you. Kneeling over your father’s cooling corpse, you take in the elf’s panicked face. He’s so young, so unchanged, and in that moment he seems nearly immortal to you. You’ve heard the stories of elf magic, how their spells could be used to heal wounds and raise the dead, but Thistle can’t do any of that. He hasn’t been allowed to. There’s nothing that either of you can do but watch your father slowly die in front of you.

You never want this to happen again, not when there’s something that can stop it. You make Thistle the court sorcerer, even as your advisors warn against it. But you’re the king, goddamn it, and you trust him. But more than that, you want what he can give to you. A power greater than any tallman could achieve. You become busier and busier, only checking up occasionally on his studies. He’s become incredibly proficient in a short amount of time, but your thoughts are elsewhere. Enemies knock on your door, famine chokes the population, and worst of all your beloved son has fallen ill. It’s just like the day of your wedding, but this time, you have something that can defy that fate. Thistle.

But still, it’s not enough. It seems that even elf magic has its limits, and you can’t help but become angry with him. He reacts like a scorned child— is a scorned child, as you’ve come to realize— and you apologize. But he tells you he has something secret to show you, something he’s been searching for, researching for these past few years. The idea unsettles you, but you’ve become desperate, and you can see that he has, too. So you follow him into the dungeon, watch him smash the statue of your kingdom’s guardian and pull the book from the rubble that would decide your and your people’s fate.

Your son is healed, your enemies repelled, and your people fed and taken care of. You’re happy, and so Thistle is, too. You recognize, vaguely, that despite this achievement the familial bonds between the two of you have never been thinner. But you don’t dwell on it. He did what you needed him to do, and now you no longer had to fear the indignity of death or strife.

But of course, things do not remain sweet forever. Thistle has only grown more attached to you, more loyal, and his behavior has become erratic and strange. He keeps you all cooped up in the dungeon, insisting that the outside world is too dangerous. There’s a hardness to his still-youthful features that you never saw throughout all those years growing up alongside him. Slowly but surely the person in your memory is replaced by something frightening, almost repulsive, after he strips your own son’s soul from his body. He seems so unaffected by it all, so… inhuman.

Eventually he decides to give you what you said you wanted all those years ago: to no longer fear death. To become immortal. But it is not what you had hoped for— every day seems to drag into infinity, with joy and mirth seeping rapidly from the unsettled townsfolk as decades, then centuries pass. Thistle has become entirely unapproachable, spending all his time fortifying the dungeon and watching obsessively for any signs of traitors that might challenge the throne. You feel hopeless in it all. No matter how you beg, he never seems to hear you. His power is overwhelming and you fear how he might react to more direct commands. The guilt is intense… you know you pushed him into this, pushed him to find a way to achieve everlasting peace at any cost. But this cost is too much. How could he not see that?

1000 years. 1000 years of this torture, and the population of your kingdom has dwindled to almost nothing. In your dreams you see the vision of a golden lion in chains, its wings pinned as it pleads with you to save it. To save your kingdom, to put the remaining souls to rest. You know what needs to be done, it’s told you the best way. You tell the mad mage that you wish to have dinner together with the whole ‘family’— just like the olden days— and the way his face lights up is almost enough to make you reconsider. Almost.

It was a lie, of course. While he’s distracted you take your son’s empty body, making your way to the surface as fast as your legs can carry you. You know what’s about to happen. You’ll become nothing but dust, but you’ll be free. And with any luck, soon everyone else will be, too. Breaching the surface you get the first rays of sun on your face in a millennium, take your last breaths of fresh air as you tell the story that will free your kingdom.

As you crumble away to nothing, a last thought enters your mind. Perhaps they were all right. Perhaps it was a mistake to trust an elf.