#call me taylor swift the way i be pumping out my feelings

[mari-the-tortured-poet]

me: yeah i’ve got a clear idea of what i’ve got for my album, fourteen tracks that i’ve already got something written for each one and it’s gonna be so great also me: so five more tracks,,,

[wileys-russo]

Blurb idea: surprising lessi with multiple cheek kisses at a time (I just can’t resist that face)

co-dependancy II a.russo

"i'm back!" alessia sung out as she stepped inside and kicked the door closed behind her, almost losing her footing and falling in the process but just catching herself as she let out a shaky exhale of relief.

making a beeline for the kitchen and dumping the bag of shopping on the counter, the blonde frowned as she called out for you again but you still didn't reply.

jogging upstairs alessia smiled as she heard the shower running in your shared en-suite, followed shortly by you belting out a very off tune rendition of young hearts run free.

singing aloud was something you did very commonly, very passionately and very badly, a combination which really worked to balance things out in your favor.

the two of you had first met in a karaoke bar, alessia on a night out with some of her younger national team mates she'd grown up with, and you having stumbled in with your friends on either arm around an hour later (mostly to help keep you stood straight with a belly full of shots)

alessia had been singing her heart out in a private room, but after a particularly painful performance of islands in the stream by tooney and roebuck she excused herself to get another drink, georgia stepping out with her but disappearing to use the toilet.

your head spinning from screaming along to taylor swifts latest offering coupled with the copious amounts of alcohol pumping through you, meant you stepped away from your friends to grab a water, much to their groaning and displeasure at the decision which you simply waved off with an unbothered laugh.

after alessia had ordered she stood back to let you do the same, not paying much attention as she glanced over your shoulder to watch out for georgia.

"so girls, whats our go to songs tonight then?" the barkeep asked you both with a charming grin, handing you a bottle of water and placing alessias drinks on the counter as she politely reached around you to grab them.

"young hearts run free" you'd both answered with a smile, heads whipping toward one another at the shared answer. in that moment she'd blamed it on dehydration, but alessia's mouth had gone dry at the sight of you, piercing green eyes bore into hers as you let out a surprised laugh at the odd coincidence.

your laugh was a melodic sound which would soon become one of alessia's favorite things in the whole entire world, and from then on the story of your love would be one you'd hope to fondly recount to your grandkids one day.

alessia grabbed out her phone and began to record the audio of your shower performance, putting it on her close friends story with a chuckle and making her way back downstairs to put away the shopping.

once that was done she sank deep into the sofa with a tired sigh, her body aching from a long week of training. flicking on the tv and pushing a pillow under her head she clicked from channel to channel with a bored stare.

though before she could settle on anything to watch she heard your footsteps thud gently downstairs, and within a few seconds you'd practically dived on top of her, tucking your head in her neck.

"hi." alessia grinned, arms wrapping tightly around you. "hi, i missed you." you mumbled into the soft tanned skin, feeling the blondes body vibrate softly with laughter underneath you. "i was gone for like thirty minutes!"

"and it was the longest thirty minutes of my life!" you pushed yourself up and stared seriously down at her. "you could have just come with me." alessia chuckled as you tangled your hands in her hair, the girls eyes fluttering closed as your nails scratched softly at her scalp.

"you know i'm beginning to think maybe this is why all our friends take the mick out of us for our codependency issues." you bit down on your bottom lip with a sheepish smile. "i personally don't know what they mean, i only want to be around you every second, every minute, every day of every month." alessia shrugged it off sarcastically as you mockingly nodded along.

a beat of comfortable silence passed between you, both staring adoringly at the other.

alessia let out squeal followed by a loud chime of laughter as you began to attack her face with kisses. "i love you." you paused to grin before peppering each inch of her face with your lips, moving from her forehead to her nose to each of her cheeks before the older blonde's hand came to rest on the back of your head, gently guiding them to meet with her own.

[murdockbarnes]

I can see you

pairing: james potter x fem!reader

summary: based on I can see you by taylor swift on sntv

wordcount: 1.5k

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact. I DO NOT SUPPORT JKR IN ANY WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM. forbidden romance, coworkers with benefit, switch!james and switch!reader, handjob, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex.

A/N: this song is so sexy i just had to. this was written in a hurry so forgive me if it's shitty.

any feedback would be greatly appreciated, but reblogs are especially helpful. have a great day!

*not edited, all mistakes are mine*

they brush past each other in one of the many hallways in the ministry of magic, chasing different leads a few months into their training year as new aurors.

it was exciting, as jimston offered them complicated cases and allowed them to work them out on their own, as most training aurors wouldn't let them out in the field so early.

but jimston had one strict rule: aurors training under him could not date during their year of training.

and well, that was quite unfortunate wasn't it? training under jimston as new aurors allowed them to see sides of each other they had not seen at hogwarts, given how different their social circles ran. james was smart as a whip and her shy exterior hid something that called to james' mischievous self. the tension was palpable whenever they were in each other's vicinity.

jimston had paired them up to work most cases together, so they sat sneaking glances day after day at desks facing each other, in a small room with two other aurors.

it was innocent at first, shy glances and shier smiles, arms brushing as they walked, joking and laughing getting to know each other, and late nights working together. everything was professional, despite how hard it got progressively.

it all came to a head one night when they were working late on a case looking for leads, the little workroom empty save for them. jackets off, shirts unbuttoned in an effort to get more comfortable in the stuffy office. james' unruly hair even moreso after running his fingers through it in frustration. she was distracted a while ago when he rolled up his sleeves, his arms on display. oblivious to the effect he was having on her, he loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt, her eyes following the patch of skin coming uncovered. james voice calling her name snapped her out of her haze, and as her gaze met his, darkened eyes meeting darker ones, he knew it was all about to change.

and the rest was history.

which is how james found himself pressed against the wall in a small storage closet a few months into their arrangement, his glasses fogging and her hand over his mouth while she pumped his cock with the other. her lips trailed over his jaw and neck as she increased her pace, grip tightening every time it came close to his tip. the combined sensation of her lips and hand had james reeling, moaning and whining into her hand as he got closer and closer to the edge. he was dizzy in the dim room, as the cloud of her perfume engulfed him. his eyes rolled as white hot pleasure overtook him, electrifying every nerve in his body as she whispered praises into his ear, her pace frantic now. he came all over her hand, her lips trailing his jaw to his mouth, now free and panting heavily. the kiss was all teeth and tongue, intense and quick. it had to be, their absence would surely be noticed by now.

distracted by the kiss, the feel of her hair in his hands and flushed skin under his fingertips, he didn't feel her tucking his dick back into his pants and zipping him up. only when she broke away and his lips chased hers did he realise, but he really couldn't find it in himself to care. he still kept holding her close to him, foreheads resting together, pressed against each other.

"oh my god," are the first words to leave james' mouth, making her laugh. "that was so fucking hot. merlin, woman, you are something else."

"come on," she says, "we have that meeting with jimston in a few minutes to discuss that new case." she pecked him once, flashed a smile, and left as quick as she dragged him into the closet.

james would feel her eyes on him when he was across the room, his coffee mug in hand and talking to someone else, and he'd turn away and pretend not to notice, fighting the flush rising up his neck. he'd pretend like he didn't wish to know what went through her head, like he couldn't still feel the feel of her skin on his fingertips, or know her taste. like she hadn't kissed him senseless merely a half hour ago in an unused office after he'd used his fingers and his tongue to make her cum.

or how she'd returned the favour right back, her mouth stuffed full of his cock, hand slick with his spit, fondling his balls.

james apparates outside her door now, hand raised to knock just as it swings open. she steps aside to invite him in, and she can't turn back after shutting the door fast enough before james has a hold of her face and is kissing her, fingers tangling in her hair. she moans into his mouth as his fingers lift her skirt upwards, hands curving over her thighs and hip until it reaches her underwear. his fingers are gentle as they pull it off, a contrast to the desperate way he's kissing her, as though she's his one source of oxygen.

james breaks away and slowly gets on his knees, maintaining eye contact. her back is against her front door, her chest heaving. her hair is messy from his fingers and her shirt unbuttoned; she looks an absolute mess, and james couldn't be prouder. his hands glance over her legs once more before they slowly part her folds, his breath fanning her pubic bone before his mouth makes contact with her clit. james licks and sucks at her clit while his fingers pump in and out of her. her moans and nails scratching his scalp encourage him to go faster, suck harsher until her arousal is dripping down his knuckles and she's clenching around him. he rises, kissing her again and holding on tightly as she weaves a dance around her furniture to her bedroom.

"you drive me absolutely crazy, james potter." she says, pushing him onto the bed and unbuttoning her shirt. "you don't know half the things i want to do to you."

"then show me." is his response as she straddles him, undressing him now. she kisses him deeply as he flips the both of them so that he's on top. she bites his lip and james detaches to give her a mock stern look. at her smile, he smiles back and plants kisses along her neck, drifting down to her breasts as he lines his cock up to her folds. his lips wrap around a nipple just as he pushes in, her chest arching into him. his thrusts are deep, his hands holding hers as she moans and writhes under him. james watches for a while, taking in her flushed skin and rolling eyes, her kiss swollen lips. his lips find her neck again, sucking hard enough to leave bruises. her cunt flutters around his cock, and his pace increases, his thrusts growing choppy as he moans into her ear. james reaches a hand between their bodies, rubbing her clit furiously as he encourages her to let go for him.

"cum for me, love. i've got you." james reassures her, focusing on angling his hips to repeatedly hit that spot inside her that makes her keen. she moans loudly, chest brushing his as her cunt tightens around his cock.

her legs wrap around his hips. "cum in me, james. please." she kisses him, hard, and james thrusts hard a few times before he's coming undone, moaning into her ear.

they're both shuddering from the aftermath of their orgasms, arms still wrapped around each other, bone weary and too tired to move. his fingers stroke her spine, her leg thrown over his, her head on his chest. james really doesn't want to leave. truth be told, he's sure he's addicted, he loses his mind every time her hand brushes against him at the ministry in a meeting, or when her perfume lingers in the room when she's not there. the way her foot brushes against his and the twinkle in her eyes when she looks up at him grinning. there's a pang in his heart when he thinks of this, whatever it may be, coming to an end.

"there's only a month left till our training's over." james starts tentatively. she hums in response. "where does that leave us once it's over? because in case you haven't noticed, i'm kinda addicted to you, sweetheart." it's almost a whisper, the way he says it.

she shifts and leans on her elbow, the better to look at james while she responds. "in case you haven't noticed, jamie, i'm kinda addicted to you too." she smiles. his resounding smile washes over her like the warm rays of sunlight, and she's glad she didn't keep it in any longer. james potter was the sun and she'd gladly have her heart broken if she got the chance to love him.

james kisses her then, soft and sweet and so different to all the ones they'd shared before. his arms wrapped around her, her light snores fill the room, his own not far behind. as sleep clouds his senses, the end of the month and the promise of a possible future looming in his mind can't seem to come fast enough.

[gluion]

persist and resist (but still, fail) ➵ sung hanbin

sung hanbin x reader

all it takes is one phone call for you to realize what you could’ve had with hanbin

genre/warnings ➵ angst, almost lovers, long-distance but not-in-a-relationship, unspoken words/hidden signals, a lot of wondering of what could’ve been

word count ➵ 728 words

inspired by ➵ “the 1” by taylor swift, that one skype call in “past lives”

a/n ➵ this drabble is very reminiscent of an upcoming fic i have which will a hanbin version entitled “finger trapped (ripped to its seams)” but its taking a bit to pump out (and i’m very much in my feelings as we speak…) so bear with me and enjoy this drabble for now :33 IT’S OUT THOUGH IF YOU WANNA READ IT! do reblog and leave feedback!!

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist

it’s quiet uptown. as you smell the winter air, frozen kisses graze your cheeks. sounds of cars have been replaced with the buzzing of lamposts and flakes have taken raindrops’ role. on the snow-piled balcony, you hear the wood crackle behind you.

yet, warmth is stored in the voice on the other line.

“so, what’s it like there?” the rasp that accompanies hanbin’s words remind you of the time zone difference between you two. while it may be crack of dawn in korea, night has fallen at where you stand.

“you’ve asked that question how many times in this call.” a giggle leaves you. “you’re making me think that you never listen.”

a soft hum leaves him. “you know that’s not true.” your fingers grip on the blanket draped on your shoulders. “what are you up to?”

“damn, not even letting me answer the thousand questions you seem to have for me.”

“sorry,” he chuckles, “just never hear from you.”

for a moment, all you can do is sniffle.

“it’s quiet here. everyone’s off to see their families.” your hand reaches out to rail, writing the characters of his name on the snow, as you bask in the stillness of the town. “i like it like this.”

“like it like what?”

“when it’s not busy. it’s only during the winter time when you’ll barely hear a horn or chatter.” a smile makes its way to your lips. “kind of like when we’d sneak into school during the summer time.”

heat waves would do their best to tie you down then, draining you of any energy to enjoy the wonders of summer, but you and hanbin were drawn to adventures. while there would be trips to the mart to grab the familiar taste of chocolate popsicles or the playground you’ve bruised your knees at, the school seemed to call on your names. the empty hallways whispered the narratives of students who came before you two—you were certain that yours and hanbin’s story would be told, as well.

“god, i can’t believe we had so much time to waste then,” hanbin admits over the memory. only a hum leaves you. “i miss it.”

a beat passes.

“yeah, me too.” the whisper barely leaves you.

there’s a life in korea that you’ve lost—the quiet exchange of laughter during classes, the smell of fresh kkwabaegi fresh from the fryer, and the nights spent stargazing.

but in the life you have now—in the stillness of your room during midnights, the rush hours of your commute, the conservations you have with the locals—you can’t help but wonder, wonder, wonder. 

would you be in a 9-to-5 job at a corporate workplace or performing at sold-out venues? would you wake up early in the morning to bake or would you sleep in the comfort of your own bed? or would you go back to school and dive into the niche topics you’ve always wanted to explore?

but would you live alone in a different part of korea or travel around the world with him? would you wake up to the smell of freshly-cooked pancakes or microwaved fried rice from the night before? or would he latch to your body that’s reached the highest degrees, or make him soup during flu season? (he’s always had a weak immune system. did that change?) 

there’s a life in korea that you long for—and there’s a person that you’ve lost. if things were only different, maybe you’d have him for many orbits around the sun.

did he ever think of a life you two could’ve had?

“hey, i have to go,” you say.

“oh,” hanbin’s tone is laced with disappointment, “okay.”

for a moment, not a word is exchanged between you two.

“talk soon?” his question takes you by surprise.

you would’ve loved to agree—yes! i’ll make sure to come visit—but you only smile to yourself with held back tears.

“bye, hanbin.”

that was enough of an answer for him. “okay. bye.”

the call drops. the warmth that your phone held has disappeared. while it makes sense to retreat back into your flat, bask in the heat emitting from the fireplace and read the words of sylvia plath, you remain standing on the snow-piled balcony.

it didn’t matter what you two could’ve had. it didn’t matter if he wondered the same things.

but it could’ve been him—that’s all you know.

taglist ➵ @kflixnet @blankjournal

[imaginedisish]

illicit affairs (Din Djarin x fem!Reader)

A/N: Hey guys!! Here's the Din fic I said I'd post lol. It's not my favorite I've ever written, but I think it's good enough to post. It's very clearly written around "illicit affairs" by Taylor Swift LOL. It's very similar to my cardigan fic so if you liked that you'll like this. Anyway, feel free to request something. Enjoy!

Summary: You're supposed to be training with Luke, but your secret affair with Din is worth the risk of losing everything you've worked for.

Warnings: SMUT! 18+, like literally right under the cut LOL (oral f!receiving). Cursing, lots of angst, Luke is in this for two seconds idk if you need a warning ab that, Jedi!Reader, cheating on the Jedi code LOL, maybe violence? that's it.

Word Count: 2,473 (much shorter than normal lol)

You always found yourself here, lights out, flush against his chest in the rickety bunk on his ship that you had once shared with him.

“So fucking perfect.” His voice is lush without his modulator – you noticed it that first time he took his helmet off in the darkness. His hands roam over every curve, every inch of your body as he sinks down in between your legs. His palms press against your inner thighs, parting them, leaving a trail of soft kisses as he makes his way towards your cunt.

You whimper as his mouth finally meets where you need him most. “F-fuck,” You sigh, letting your head fall back onto the pillow. He laps at you like he’s starving, but you were the hungry one, the needy one. Maker, you missed him, feeling his mouth on you like this.

“Doing so good for me, mesh’la.” His voice reverberates against your core as he spreads your slick with his fingertips. “Tastes so good…” He trails off, his tongue flicks against your clit as he thrusts his fingers deep inside you. He needs this just as much as you, the feeling of you clenching around him, writhing under him, in his bunk, no one else’s.

Your back arches off the thin mattress as Din takes your core into his mouth, sucking roughly. “D-Din,” You’re calling his name out like it’s some ancient prayer, some age-old hymn. “S-so close…”

His fingers pump faster, pushing deeper inside you with each thrust. “Such a good girl,” He mumbles against you, his tongue swirling with more pressure than it was before. He secretly wishes he could turn the lights on. He genuinely mulls over the idea in his head. You were worth seeing, worth watching, worth breaking his creed for.

“I’m g-gonna…” You can’t finish your sentence, your hips shaking as they slightly lift off the bed. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as your walls flutter around his fingers.

“That’s it, sweet girl,” Din soothes. “I’ve got you, always got you.” Fuck. It’s too much. Your core aches with overstimulation as you fall apart around him, each wave of pleasure more overwhelming than the last. You grip the sheets beneath you, your nails clutching the fabric  practically hard enough to leave holes behind. This is what he did to you.

And you couldn’t live without it.

He slowly slips his fingers from you, lapping at you a few more times before finally pulling away. You’re still shaking underneath him. It was impossible not to. He settles back in, hovering over you, bringing a hand up to your cheek, pressing a chaste kiss against your lips. He wraps you up in his arms, keeping you held tightly to him as if you’d choose to leave if he let you go.

That would be impossible. You’d have to be pulled from him, pried away by some outside source. You’d never willingly leave. But you knew you had to. These moments were fleeting, effervescent. You were loving on borrowed time, on lies and in hidden forests where no one could see.

Take the road less traveled by Tell yourself you can always stop What started in beautiful rooms Ends with meetings in parking lots

“Are you alright, cyare?” He asks, his fingers trailing down your spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You wish they’d still be there later on, when he was gone. At least then you’d have something that told you he had touched you today.

All you can muster is a soft hum. You were already consumed deep in the thought that you’d have to leave in just a few minutes. It wasn’t fair. None of this ever was. But you both had duties, lifestyles you clung to. You figured that it would end one of two ways: with or without him. And whatever happens in between simply happens. But with every time he lands on Ossus, somewhere you think Luke won’t be able to feel or find him, you become less accepting of those fifty-fifty odds.

And you’re sick at the thought that you could end up without him.

He knows what your silence means. It happens every time. “You have to leave, don’t you?” He asks, his arms seemingly pulling you even tighter against him.

You shut your eyes tightly, forcing your tears back shamefully. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. You were never supposed to fall for him. Din had brought you to Ossus so that you could train with Luke, so that you could make something of yourself. With that came leaving him behind, saying goodbye to whatever relationship you two shared. And now here you were, breaking the only rules Luke and the Jedi had for the third time this month.

Stupid fucking rules.

“I don’t get it,” You whisper, pushing your face into his chest, hiding from the truth, from your responsibilities. “How does he do it?” It’s more of an attack than it is a question. Luke was almost inhuman, a droid. No bonds, no connections, no pull towards the darkness, no questioning what he was doing, no love for someone he couldn’t have. He was perfect. Granted, he had more experience than you, and you weren’t to blame for what the Inquisitors had done to you as a child, but you figured it would be easier than this.

You press your ear to Din’s chest, listening to his heartbeat, looking for more physical proof that he was really there. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” He asks tentatively. “To learn?”

You nod once, twice, and before you can nod a third time, a thought smacks you in the face. “Maybe I don’t want to learn.”

“You have to,” Is all he says in return. You can’t help but be surprised by his words.

You lift your head from his chest, pushing yourself up onto your arms to stare into his eyes as if you could even see them. “Who says I have to if I d-,”

He cuts you off before you can get another word in. “Me.” There’s a beat of silence, an air of conflict settling within the confines of the bunk.

You shake your head. “And why is that?” You question incredulously.

“Because you’re meant for so much more than just me.”

“Din I-,” You don’t know what to say, or how to say it. He couldn’t possibly be more wrong. In the darkness he pushes himself up and out of the bunk. You hear him take a few steps against the metal floors of the Crest before picking up his helmet. With a click and a hiss his face disappears behind the beskar. You follow him into the hull, the lights practically blinding you as he turns them on.

“You’re wrong, you know,” You insist, staying on his heels as he walks towards his armor. You watch as he keeps silent, tugging his flight suit over his boxers before dawning himself in his glimmering metal shell. Just an hour ago you had watched him take it all off.

Din turns back towards you once he’s finished. “I’m the problem.” You can hear him struggle as the words fall from his lips, as if he had to force them out.

You want to scream. Not this. Not now. “Why is this happening?” You don’t mean for your voice to sound as cold or as distant as it does. “What changed?”

“Luke was right.”

“A-about what?” You stutter. But you know what’s coming.

“About you needing to be alone t-to do this,” Din starts, pacing the hull as he contemplates what to say next. “I’m bad for you, whatever this is, it’s bad for you.” He pauses, stopping in his tracks to face you. “I can see it in your eyes right now.”

The words sting, searing your heart, slicing it in two. An imaginary string breaks in the background of the universe, severing the connection between you and the beskar clad man just a few feet away from you. But now he felt millions of lightyears away.

“Din, please, I lo-,”

“Don’t, don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

Your nostrils flare a bit as you bite back those three words. Why give them to someone who doesn’t want to hear them anyway?

You choke back your tears, grabbing the rest of your clothes from the floor, dressing yourself in your robes in a hurried huff. You don’t want him to see you cry. You don’t want him to see when your anger gets the best of you later and you burn down a forest because you can. That’s what drove him away from you in the first place.

You stop to turn to face him as you approach the ramp. How are you supposed to say goodbye?

“Is this really what you want?” You ask, opening the ramp with the press of a button.

“No.” Din’s familiar modulated voice echoes against the walls of the Crest. “But it’s what’s best for you.”

You swallow harshly, doing your best to keep yourself from sobbing. “What’s best for me is what I want.” You can feel the tears streaming down your cheeks uncontrollably, but your voice is still somehow strong. “And all I’ve ever wanted is you.” The confession rattles you to your bones, even though you had planned to say it from the very second you met Din. “I love you; I really do.”

You walk down the ramp and deep into the forest before you let yourself fall apart.

And that's the thing about illicit affairs And clandestine meetings and longing stares It's born from just one single glance But it dies, and it dies, and it dies A million little times

Luke knew something was off when you got back to the temple.

He asked you why you looked so tired, why your eyes were teary.

Went for a run, was all you could manage.

He asked why you wouldn’t touch your food.

Not hungry.

And then you went away to hide in the little hut you called home. But this wasn’t home, Din was. You didn’t come out. To be honest you didn’t plan to, ever. You’d hide away here forever if you could. You felt sick to your stomach. You weren’t sure how you were supposed to move on from this. Being a Jedi wasn’t your great love. It wasn’t saving the galaxy. It never would be.

It was him. He was your greatest love of all.

A knock at your door makes you jump. You sniffle, wiping your eyes with a vigor you didn’t know you had. You’re more than positive you’ve only irritated them more, made them more bloodshot than they had been seconds ago.

You shuffle begrudgingly over to the door, hesitating before twisting the handle. Your heart sinks when you see it’s just Luke. Who else did you think it would be? Din is gone.

“What?” There it is, that anger again. After all, this was his fault. He’s the reason Din left, the reason you’re here in the first place.

There’s a small smile on his lips. It’s nonjudgmental, completely at peace. “Why are you still here?”

“What are you talking about, Luke?” You furrow your brows, but the touch he leaves on your shoulder indicates that he knows more than you think he does.

“He’s still in the forest, where he was this morning.” It’s matter-of-fact, as if he’s known from the second all of this started. And that’s when it hits you: it’s true, he has known this whole time. “Doesn’t have the heart to leave. He can’t stop thinking about you.”

Your eyes widen as Luke turns around and walks back towards his hut. “But-,”

He cuts you off, turning towards you, looking at you as if he was taking you in for the last time. There’s that smile again, the one that says Don’t worry kid, I forgive you. “He won’t leave this planet without you, but you’ll leave without finishing your training.”

“But Luke, what if I-,”

He cuts you off again. He closes his eyes for a moment, as if he’s feeling out for you, reading you. “There’s conflict in you, but it’s balanced. Self-assured.” He opens his eyes. “Something I’ll never have.”

You take a deep breath, and nod. Balance. It’s something you’re surprised you feel sure about. Something he’ll never have. Closure.

“Thank you, Luke.”

And before he can respond, you’re sprinting into the forest. You can feel your lungs burning in your chest, threatening to be coughed up with each stride you take. But you don’t care, not when he’s still here, not when he can’t leave without you, live without you.

You take the same turn you always did to get to the Crest, and as if it was always meant to be, Din is in front of you, stopped in his tracks.

You didn’t even have to chase after him. He was going to come back to you.

“Din,” You whisper, slowly walking towards him. He reaches out his gloved hand and you take it willingly, without any hesitation. After all, you were his. He could have any part of you that he wanted, and you’d give it away willingly.

He looks at you through his helmet, but it isn’t enough. He needs more. He needs to see you, for you to see him.

With his free hand, he presses a button. And again, there’s that familiar hiss. You instinctively shut your eyes like you had so many times before.

“No, please look, cyar’ika.” It’s not just a request, it’s a plea, to give you something no one else save for his son has ever had the privilege of seeing and living afterwards to remember.

Your eyes flutter open. His brown eyes meet yours, his perfect lips curling into a smile. “You’re beautiful,” You whisper, your words almost entirely unintelligible as you stare up at him in awe. Beautiful and perfect don’t even begin to describe him. He’s something else completely, something unique to him.

“I’m sorry,” His voice cracks, his normal confidence washed away with every inhibition and ounce of control you two had ever shared.

You inch closer to him, your chest flush against his just like it was earlier today. He brings his forehead down to meet yours. You shut your eyes, letting your tears run freely down your cheeks. “Don’t be,” Is all you can manage to croak out.

“I should’ve told you how much I love you,” He says, pulling away from you, his eyes raking over your body as if this will be the last time he ever sees you. But it’s just the beginning.

“So tell me now.”

And you know damn well For you, I would ruin myself A million little times

[heartofwritiing]

What am I supposed to do, if theres no you?

paring: wilbur soot x fem!reader

authors note: I was listening to soon you’ll get better by taylor swift. I couldn’t get the imagery of this song out of my head and I needed to write some sort of vent. also inspired by a fic that @starsyoubreaklikesugardust wrote called whats it like on the other side of us that utterly destroyed me and I needed a happier version... This is super self-indulgent as hell but I hope you guys like it!

warnings: angst, mentions of an illness, hospitals, heavy topics, mentions of death, reader doesn’t have a specific illness, fluff, hurt comfort, me not knowing about medical terms or hospitals so excuse me lol, unedited!

The hospital bed feels warmer when Wilbur lies beside you, the only sound in the small room is the beeping of the machine monitoring your vitals.

On most days, everything is fine. However, when he's around, it's easy to forget the inevitable fate that awaits.

When he has to leave, he goes home to sleep in an empty bed and never does sleep. In those moments of solitude, he cries until he can't anymore. He tries to distract himself by painting the kitchen yellow, fixing up the garden, going to the studio to record, and hanging out with friends. But he feels guilty he’s not beside you.

The next time you see him he looks horrible. Like he got hit by a bus and you’re wondering if you should be the one in here or him. Wilbur Voice horse, circles under his eyes and red you know is from his tears. That’s when you pull him by the arm so he can curl up next to you so he can finally get some rest.

Stoking your fingers through his hair as he snores softly into your collarbone. You think about how Wilbur would ever function without you. How is he gonna take care of himself -when-if you are gone one day. That pit is building in your stomach along with the small lump in your throat. The burning of your eyes as you silently cry while you hold him close to your body.

Because that was what your life was full of, what ifs, whens, uncertainty, and dread. He didn’t deserve that. The arguments you used to get into when you first got sick. Begging him to leave you because you knew, in the long run, this wouldn’t work out. You could spend the rest of your life in and out of hospitals while he wasted away with you.

Wilbur swore repeatedly up and down that he would never leave you. No matter how much you tried to drive him away or how hard matters got.

Wilbur was constantly worried about your well-being, but he held onto hope that you would recover. This was especially true after the first time he brought you home.

You were happy to leave the uncomfortable hospital bed and small room reeking of antiseptic. You slow danced with him in the living room to Elton John playing from his phone speaker, listened to him write new songs, and slept in because you missed waking up in your shared bed. You felt like your old self again and he loved seeing you that way.

When things got worse again, the bright light in your eyes would soon fade, like water extinguishing a flame, as you had to leave your home and return to that sterile, white-washed room.

When you are back in that hospital bed, with the scratchy sheets and the fluorescent lights that hurt your eyes you’re back to being a shell of a human. The depression hits you harder and Wilbur does all he can to help. make you as comfterble as possible despite the weight of the situation.

You know he’s only trying to provide solstice. The small room fills with his soft voice as he reads your favorite stories. Telling you bad jokes he’s heard from Tommy that get you to at least crack a smile. He feels proud he was the one to grant you some form of happiness.

-

His hand holds your shaking, cold one as the IV pumps treatment into your veins. He leans over in his chair to be closer to you, lips against your knuckles. Your eyes meet in a longing stare that says 'I'm here, I'm not going anywhere.' You gently squeeze his hand.

“Wil?” You asked hoarsely.

“Yes, darling?” His voice is intimate, making you feel like there are people around even though it's just the two of you. The nickname always makes your tummy flutter with delight.

You want to capture the way he looks at you in a picture. He tentatively waits for your next words, his doe eyes filled with concern. You clear your throat and exhale softly.

“I was thinking... maybe we should find a house in the country,” you say. Wilbur remains silent. "Somewhere quiet, with big fields where we can see the sky, and watch the sunset on the porch."

You've mentioned how you'd love to live out in the country. A cottage large enough for you both to have separate areas. A streaming room for him, and a bedroom and den for you to store all your books and painting supplies.

A place where you can finally be free from confinement. Despite Wilbur's jokes about you being an old soul, you were in touch with life through knitting, painting, reading, and walks. That's what he wanted to give you again.

Your voice is quieter now, creating a moment just for you. The heaviness in your voice made your eyes well up. You could feel his thumb caressing your knuckles. Like a silent ‘take your time’. Your throat closes up as you keep talking. Your breath is shaking, primarily due to the cold temperature of the room and the medicine making you feel woozy. But you and Wilbur knew it was the emotional weight you tried to carry with your words.

Somewhere we can grow old together.

The sentence sits heavily in your mind. You'd like to say it to him. You wanted to share it with him so badly, but it felt painful to have cross your mind.

Wilbur already knows by the look in your eyes. He leans over you, lovingly presses a kiss to your forehead, and wipes away a single tear before it can roll down your cheek. Slowly he moves down, then presses another kiss to the tip of your nose.

“Whatever you want, my love.” he squeezes your hand back.

-

Wilbur spent weeks searching through countless home-selling websites for your dream house, but none were to his liking or within your budget. A month later, while sitting uncomfortably in a hospital chair with his long legs curled up to his chest, he scrolled through his phone and stumbled upon a house that seemed too good to be true.

He scheduled numerous appointments to see the house, ensuring everything was in order before making a final decision. Moving his belongings with the help of friends and bandmates was hectic.

He spent weeks preparing for your homecoming, buying new furniture, and arranging your books to your liking, making everything perfect only then he would finally surprise you.

He's there to take you to his car the day you leave the hospital. He takes care of you in the passenger seat, buckling you in and ensuring you're ready to leave before setting off.

As Wilbur drives past your shared apartment, soft indie tunes play through the car's speakers, and you lean back against the headrest, watching the scenery pass by. You realize you passed the turn to your house and Wilbur's hand takes yours.

Wilbur turns to you with a mischievous glint in his eyes and says, "We're not going home just yet." A faint smile is on his lips as if he's hiding something from you. He then drives in a different direction, and you can't help but feel excited about what he has planned.

"Where are we going?" you ask. As you speak, he can hear your worry.

"If I told you that, it would ruin the surprise," he says.

He knows you're antsy in your seat but it'll be worth it. After driving through winding roads and trees, he pulls up to a house with an arched doorway and slanted roof, almost like the one you dreamed of growing up.

Wilbur turns off the ignition, rushes to your side, opens the car door, and with a grin offers his hand to help you out. Wilbur leads you to the front door, unlocks it with a small key, and picks you up to carry you over the threshold.

"Welcome home darling," he says.

You are led through the house, to the hallway to the cozy living room. taking everything in slowly.

The soft pillows on the sofa, your paintings on the walls, your books on the shelf, and Wilbur's record player and vinyl set up. His acoustic guitar set against the wall caused your eyes to well up.

"Wilbur," you began, but tears rolled down your face as the emotions overwhelmed you. Why was he going through all this trouble for a silly dream?

Wilbur frowned as he tried to place you on the recliner, but you clung to him, so he sat down with you in his lap. Speaking softly into your ear with tender words to calm you.

You drew away from him, noticing the worry in his gaze as you locked eyes with Wilbur, he searched your expression frantically, attempting to figure out the cause of your distressed state.

"Are you okay?" he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "I know it's a lot to take all at once, but I wanted to surprise you. I'm sorry for being secretive."

You shake your head, in slight remorse for making him assume he upset you or pushed things too far.

"I'm just so happy." you beamed tearily.

Ease washed over him, and a sigh escapes his lips. Tears well in his eyes. He gently takes the back of your head and brings you to meet him for a kiss. His lips are soft and warm as they enveloped yours passionately. You reciprocated his kiss, bringing your hands to thread in his hair. Your noses brushed as you pulled away to catch your breath.

While holding each other, you remained in that position. Your breathing was slow and unsteady, and tears streamed down your face as you cried onto Wilbur's shoulder. Everything, for the first time in a long time, felt perfect.

Everything you had ever wanted was with Wilbur, and you were never going to want anything else.

Wilbur knew in his heart, soon you would get bette, because you just had to.

End.

tagging: @merakiwi @trashcanduck  @addxms @ax-y10

[meekahy]

Babes!!! Here is another fic I wrote about Noah. It's all fluff!

Let me know what you think!!! Any feedback is helpful!

I'm also taking requests!!!

I missed you:

I stare down at my fingers, knee bouncing uncontrollably as my nerves bubble from the bottom of my toes to the top of my head. My eyes quickly shift to the clock on the wall, watching the seconds tick by. As the minutes near, my heart pounds, my hands sweat, and the sound gets louder.

At the sound of laughter, my eyes dart to the source. The guys are stood there laughing at something I entirely missed in my nervous state. Noah sits down next to me, and I feel butterflies replace the anxiety I was feeling when our eyes lock and his hand slides onto my knee. I don’t know why I was so nervous seeing him again, but seeing him now made all my nervousness fade away. 

He leans in, his eyebrows furrowed and his gaze searching my eyes for any sign of hurt as he asks, “Are you okay? I can tell there’s something wrong”.

“Oh! It’s nothing. I think there’s too many people here”, I mutter, placing my hand on top of Noah’s. He flips his hand over to tangle our fingers together. “Should we get going? Are you guys hungry?” I ask the boys. 

They all groan, answering in multiple variations of yes. I stand and pull Noah with me as we all walk back to my car to head for dinner. As we walk, Noah tugs me into his side and presses a kiss to the top of my head.

“I missed you”, he mutters as I squeeze my hand on his hip reassuringly.

“I missed you way more!” I chime as he squeezes me with his arm around my shoulder.

By the time we all reached the car, the boys were fighting over where to eat for dinner. 

“But Mexican sounds sooo good,” Folio groans as Jolly gives him a bored look.

“I just think Japanese is the way to go”, Jolly retorts.

“Let her decide”, Nick motions to me with his hand.

I look at them with wide eyes, “Me?” They all nod in return. “Hm, I think I’m going to have to side with Folio on this one, guys.” 

Folio pumps a fist into the air, “YES!”. I just giggle at him.

At the Mexican restaurant Jolly orders a margarita. “Folio, you’re lucky this margarita is delicious”, he says as he sips reluctantly. Everyone is chowing down on chips and salsa. 

While everyone is stuffing their face, Noah wraps his arm around my chair and leans in.

“So, what’s the matter?” he questions as I look into his eyes. 

It was really hard living alone without Noah here to comfort me when things were bad. Sure, he was a phone call away, but nothing beats his warm, belonging hugs. He makes me feel like I’m at home and it’s hard living without that everyday.

I rest my hand on his knee as I sigh, “I think I just missed you while you were on tour is all.”

He smiles at me and gives me a kiss on the cheek, “I missed you too, pretty girl.”

After dinner, everyone heads back to the car. Noah is holding my hand, swinging it as we walk back to the car. 

Dropping Folio off, we are all singing in the car. We’ve been listening to a lot of Lorna Shore, Sleep Token, Spiritbox, and even some Taylor Swift. Nicholas looks to me from the passenger seat after Folio leaves and wonders, “What song do you want to listen to next?” 

Thinking briefly I plead, “Okay, I know you guys are home and tired of playing this night after night, but do you mind if we listen to Artifical Suicide? I love it when Noah does the little screams at the beginning. It’s my favorite! Pretty please?”

“Anything for you”, Nicholas replies.

The song begins and starts to swell. I know exactly what part I’m waiting for and giggle in my seat as Noah is still holding my hand. Right as the first growl comes out I raise my hands in the air, close my eyes and smile, imitating it silently. Noah watches with amusement as he starts to sing along to the song. I scream the words to the best of my ability and all the guys watch in enjoyment. The next time Noah growls in the song, he does it out loud for me. I squeal with excitement. With all of us laughing, I think and treasure this moment. It’s the little moments that make my heart smile.

Tag list:

@rottingfern

@crimson-calligraphyx

@lma1986

@ladyveronikawrites

[greghatecrimes]

PPTH Gang + What I Think They’d Order At Starbucks, brought to you in incredible and unnecessarily extra detail by a very tired barista!

House: Black eye (black coffee with two shots of espresso), adds his own cream and sugar very sparingly. Occasionally when he’s alone he orders a Caramel Ribbon Crunch frap (guilty pleasure).

Wilson: Grande hot latte with soy milk. He used to order the “skinny vanilla” (latte with skim milk and sugar free vanilla) but stopped because House made fun of him for ordering the white mom drink.

Cuddy: This woman will drink any kind of coffee she can get her hands on in the morning. Even really, really shitty coffee. She just needs something to get through the day. But if she’s got time for Starbucks, I know she’s absolutely getting a tall Brown Sugar Oat Milk Shaken Espresso with two extra shots of espresso (four total). (That is a lot of espresso for a small drink and she needs all of it). She looks so stressed out that the barista draws a smiley face or a star next to her name on the cup, or writes “have a great day!”

Cameron: The Taylor Swift latte. Grande skim latte with caramel. She’s a basic bitch but she knows what she likes, good for her! In the fall she’s 100% a pumpkin spice latte girl and she probably also has the date written on her calendar for when Peppermint Mochas come back in the winter. When asked her name: “It’s Allie, A-L-L-I-E. Thanks!” automatically spells it out to make the barista’s life 3x easier.

Chase: Cameron orders for him because Chase has no idea what the names for anything are. Also likes a good Peppermint Mocha around Christmas (Cameron got him hooked; he stops drinking them after the divorce). Rest of the year he goes for an Americano, iced or hot, with almond milk. His Starbucks name is Bob, which never fails to make Cameron laugh. (Now I’m imagining putting that order out and yelling “ICED AMERICANO FOR BOB!” into a busy cafe and Chase standing there cluelessly like “who? me?” until Cameron nudges him, and I’m laughing my ass off)

Foreman: Regular, plain ol’ black coffee, any kind of dark roast. He adds his own cream very liberally but isn’t a fan of sugar in his coffee.

Thirteen: I spent way too much time thinking of the perfect thing for her. If she just gets coffee at work, just regular decaf coffee is fine. The bitter taste wakes her up since there’s no caffeine. If she wants a nice coffee, I think she’d like a decaf Doppio (two shots of espresso) with a bit of almond milk, one pump of vanilla, and one pump of hazelnut. Hot or iced, but always decaf. Gently but firmly tells the barista to please make sure it’s decaf because she’s “caffeine intolerant” (not wholly a lie. Helps her avoid the caffeine jitters.) Never uses her real name, either gives a random one or just says “Thirteen, like the number” when asked for a name by the barista. Always leaves a tip when she has cash. Orders her drink iced at any time of year if she’s in the mood for it and gets harassed by House for it.

Kutner: Rotates between different superhero names for his Starbucks name (Tony Stark, Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne, Clint Barton, etc.). Taub wants to melt through the floor every time he gets coffee with Kutner and his order is called out. Kutner thinks it’s hilarious. I really feel like he would be happy with anything you give him, but I think his go to if he’s specifically at Starbucks would be a java chip frap despite the fact that Taub lectures him about it (if he’s gonna treat himself to expensive coffee it may as well taste good!!). Also RIP Kutner you would have loved the Dragon Drink so much (both for the badass name AND the fact that it’s purple)

Taub: Doesn’t go to Starbucks often, probably really only goes with Kutner. Just orders a regular latte or cappuccino. He says he doesn’t see the point of adding in all the flavors and stuff because it’ll just drown out the coffee. Might put some cinnamon on top if there’s a shaker of it on the condiment bar. Would add cinnamon or nutmeg at home if he has the luxury of having a late morning and making his own coffee.

Bonus! Amber: Drinks iced coffee in the middle of a blizzard. Could also down shots of espresso like they’re tequila. The most intense bitch. Would be very visibly tense or stressed when ordering but as soon as her order’s done she’d thank the barista pretty genuinely. Go-to order is a cinnamon dolce latte, no whip but keep the cinnamon dolce powder.

[iamsherlocked1479]

I can tolarate it

Pairing: Dr Strange x f!Reader

Summary: Stephen returns from a mission injured and y/n decides to work on him.

word count: 1.2K

Genre: smut, aingst/18+ and a bit of fluff

A/N: sorry its been so long, many many college assignments. nut i hope you enjoy Chapter 5 of Thats not how I'd do it should be out in the next few days. Enjoy

Brushing your teeth you noticed the dust that had been slowly forming above the door. Man the sanctum felt empty when you were alone, you weren’t Stephens maid but you helped him clean after being away for so long. It was a big step down from the lavished life you used to live but you knew what you were leaving behind when you decided to learn the mystic arts. But you had also gained some things too; magical powers, social skills and of course your partner. Oh god your partner, the cocky sarcastic Dr Stephen Strange. Master of the mystic arts, sorcerer supreme and guardian of the New York sanctum. You never intended to become somewhat of an item with him, but who could resist and it definitely helped that he was a perfectionist. Boy you loved that man, but he could at least refrain from galavanting off with the avengers and leaving you alone for days on end.

You sigh, spitting out the toothpaste and sliding into bed, it was cold without him. It surprised you at first but Stephen loved to cuddle, without him you had to stay warm the lonely way using blankets and fluffy socks. You pull the covers over your shoulder and close your eyes slowly fading into a slumber.

A loud crash at the end of the bed startled you awake, Stephen tumbled through a portal hitting the floor.

“Y/n?” He muttered, grasping his side he gripped the bed post and pulled himself shakily to his feet.

“Jesus Stephen, what the hell happened.” You say rushing to his aid.

“We were fighting demons. Argh-“  he paused and pressed his bleeding side. “We won but a straggler stabbed me, I need to sew me up. Nothing vital was hit just hurts like a bitch.” He gasped. You looked at his side and how the navy blue of his robes had been stained with deep crimson red.

“Okay okay, I can do this.” You whipped his arm around your neck and helped him to the next room slumping him on the couch. 

“You need to stitch it up and stop the bleeding, but first wipe it clean and apply pressure.” Stephen said grunting at the motion of his body hitting the couch.

“Okay sounds easy enough, we learned first aid in sixth grade.” You say hastestily.

“That gives me so much confidence.” Stephen grunted sarcastically.

“I told you to stay in bed and ignore the phone call.” You smirked pulling a first aid kit from a portal

“I'm beginning to think you were right.” He said quietly, watching as you pulled his robes off his chest. The stab wound was large, bigger than he made out. You winced at the gaping hole before you, dragging a damp cloth around the edges.

“And you’re sure nothing important was hit?” You asked, watching the blood pour from the tightening hole.

“If it had, I would be dead.” He smiled. His face tightened as you the final stitch closing the wound. You grabbed the cloth and traced it down the wound feeling his hot breath on your neck as he sighed at your touch.

“I know what you're thinking.” You smirk

“Do you now?” He smiled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. He leaned forward to kiss your forehead, grunting in pain as you lowered him back.

“You’re far too weak Stephen.” You say running your hands down his smooth chiselled chest. “I’ll have to do this one on my own.” Your tone lowered as his eyes darkened watching your hands slither down beneath his pants. You pulled out his half hardened cock and took it into your hands pumping it smiling at the sight of Stephens head dropping backwards over the sofa in pleasure. You fell to you knees biting your bottom lip at the sight of his erect cock standing perfectly on its own.

“Do it, I know you want to please your sorcerer supreme.” Stephens hand glided across your face. Your tongue slid from the tip down his thick shaft skilfully moving up and down, your eyes shone brightly at the sight of Stephen's extacy. The leather of the chair squealed as you sucked harder, Stephen strangling the chair arms as he gripped it. “I wanna fuck you so badly baby.” He pulled your chin up towards you and forced your lips onto his, to which you gladly latched onto. Your faces pulled back and forth as he snaked his hands around your waist, pulling your t-shirt above your head allowing your breasts to bounce down in front of him. He grabbed them softly and massaged them until your nipples pointed and suckled them warmly. 

You sighed joyfully rocking your hips across his feeling his cock pulsing between your thighs. Your cunt soaked through your shorts teasing him, he could feel that you weren’t wearing any underwear and it made him ravenous. 

“Y/n you make me so horny, look at how hard i am. I don’t care how much it hurts. I am going to make you scream.” He stood you both up housting you onto his hips and pushing his cock into you. Your bodies slammed against the wall as he thrusted himself deep inside. His hand slid down towards your clit, his fingers circulated around your folds, touching your clit every time he pushed deeper. The knot in your stomach grew tight as he worked on you, the tension travelled to your core. 

“Oh fuck Stephen. Just like that.” Your juices dripped down his cock as you only making it easier for him to slide into you. Stephen lifted you again and walked you to his bedroom, he flopped you onto the bed and positioned you on all fours over the edge of the bed. He ran his hands over your ass and slapped the cheeks hard watching them glow red. 

He plunged his cock back in again, smiling at the rhythm created by your bodies slapping together. You groaned at the feeling of him going deeper moaning his name pulling the sheets from the mattress. His cock twitched before releasing his thick juices into your cunt, pulling some out as he left. He walked over to the bathroom and returned with a warm cloth, he ran it smoothly over your wet cunt and placed it aside.

“Sit with me y/n.” He walked to his side of the bed and opened the covers for you to join him. You rested your head over his sweaty chest frowning at the sight of his hand clutching his throbbing side.

“I told you, you should have stayed in bed.”

“Just this once, i’ll admit you’re right.” Stephen kissed your forehead and pulled you closer. The room was warm and quiet as the pair of you enjoyed each others company chattering and laughing. The calm moment was ruined by the frantic buzzing of Stephens phone, it was Tony. he sighed picking up his phone.

“Do you think you can tolerate leaving them to handle it on their own just this once?” you stroked his goatee smiling as he put the phone down.

“I think I can tolerate it.”

[teyums]

Out of the people you know on here, what do you think they're aesthetics are??

this is such an interesting question 😭 these are just the vibes i get from some of y’all!! not at all saying they’re fact but i love trying to read people lol. halfway through, this stopped being ab aesthetics and became solely based off vibes bc i can’t stay on topic

uhhh @tiredmamaissy gives me boho babe vibes. like very earthy, spiritual energy, chill and down to earth. like a female bob marley. her living in the carribean and having a slight accent kind of solidified this can’t lie but i don’t mean it in like a stereotypical way. her vibe is also sort of intimidating, she oozes confidence but in the good way that just screams dominance (yes this is me confessing my love for you)

@randxmthxughts she seems very put together, and odd observation but i feel like she’s a morning person. wakes up at 7-8am, has a set schedule. minimalist type vibes. possibly a swiftie??

@mightyneteyam not really an aesthetic but i’m like 98% sure we’re fucking twins. the keyboard smashing, i love the way they spam post it resonates so hard and just screams adhd (which i have), we’re def the same person

@sweethoneycn gives me mama bear vibes. like she’ll genuinely take care of you if something is ailing you, calls you “sweetie” or “love”, the type of person to make sure you’re okay. she’s super nice and that might fool some idiot into thinking they can get away w doing some fuckshit but shordy seem like she can whoop ass fr ion want no problems 😭

@theycallmesia definition of sweetheart. she is such a sweetie i feel like she loves hugs and is the type to walk around giving them out. radiates good energy, kind of like joy from inside out

@eitaababe i feel she is 100% a swifite. there’s no way she’s not, her stories always remind me of taylor swift songs and that’s why they’re so fun to read. she also seems like the person who keeps a clean room, like somebody comes in and moves one thing in the wrong place and she’s like um… put that back. now 😭

@justasimps-blog i feel like if Luna looked in my direction I’d probably melt into a puddle. like deadass. also feel like she has an amazing sense of humor and is someone you could laugh with for 4 hours straight and your social battery won’t run out around her

@andraga12 i think she has a very vivid, explorative imagination, was probably the child who was able to keep herself entertained. I’m also convinced she has magic fingers, the way she pumps these stories out at the speed of light? and they’re all good and high quality?? seems like an open-minded person, befriends all different kinds of people and doesn’t have a set friend group because she gets along with everyone v well

@lovemyavatar biggg bookworm. you can tell by the way she writes her stories it’s like someone picked you up and dropped you right into a movie and you’re the main character of it. probably excelled in all her english classes. this was the girl you could not best in a socratic seminar/class book discussion ❗️

[wonderlandmind4]

The past three nights were just 🤌🏼✨ amazing.

I was lucky enough to go to all three Taylor Swift Tampa shows. Now I haven’t missed a single concert of hers dating back to early 2007 when barely anyone outside of country music knew who she was. I remember going to my first show and going as close as possible to the stage and singing so loud as only of the ones who did during that time.

Her music, her storytelling, her realistic feelings on different types of relationships always hit in me different ways and yes, during 2006-2007, I didn’t feel like other artist at the time were GETTING IT. Getting me. And I felt like she did, be she was my age.

Flashforward through the years- through the eras- I went to every headlining tour, and with my little sister. And this past weekend was just another experience after 5 years.

The first night of the shows we were on the floor 6 rows back from the end of the catwalk:

The second night we were in the lower bowl and could see the stage much better:

The third night we didn’t have tickets but were lucky enough to found standing room only in the back of the stadium which wasn’t that bad, and lower than the nosebleeds:

But all three nights combined? I haven’t been happy in a while (not counting the comic con I just went to)

After working a new job I was excited for, thinkin got would be my way into my dream job, another step forward, I realized it wasn’t that. It’s the right company, but the wrong door. I feel little pieces of my soul breaking off each time I walk into that place. And I also realized for that amount of a paycheck, to being full time and getting yelled and cursed at every day? It is not worth it. I have to force myself to go to work. I have to brace myself to answer calls and it’s horrible. And what was getting me through was knowing I was going to these concerts.

For all three days I cried a little bit. 1- because I’m emotional and music MAKES me emotional and there’s no shame if a song gives you chills, or makes you cry, or makes you jump around and fist pump. There’s no shame if an artist comes out on stage singing your favorite song and you’re screaming that sing with your sister and 70,000 other people.

I felt my soul was replenished, my heart was soaring and I was so overwhelmingly happy. Had one of the best times of my life this weekend, experiencing these shows and sharing it was my sister as well.

It was phenomenal. Taylor Swift was and is phenomenal and I have no shame in admitting that she and her music and her shows has gotten me some rough times.

Oh, and to scream “she’s fucked in the head” with 70,000 people was pretty awesome too.

[viperbarnes]

I posted 3,442 times in 2022

164 posts created (5%)

3,278 posts reblogged (95%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@targaryenvampireslayer

@glittercake

@ussgallifrey

@jen-with-a-pen

@bubblebuckys

I tagged 493 of my posts in 2022

#bucky barnes x reader - 53 posts

#bucky barnes - 49 posts

#bucky barnes/reader - 49 posts

#bucky barnes x you - 48 posts

#bucky barnes/you - 47 posts

#bucky barnes/yn - 46 posts

#bucky barnes x yn - 46 posts

#tfatws - 28 posts

#comment rb - 18 posts

#marvel - 18 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#i haven’t been online properly for a few days so i don’t know what happened but absolutely fuck you if you aren’t holding people to account

I sent 1 gift in 2022

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

You Are In Love -- Oneshot

[Bucky Barnes x Reader]

Summary:You can hear it in the silence. You can feel it on the way home. You can see it with the lights out, you are in love.

Notes: this is just a widdle something based off of Taylor Swift's 'You Are In Love' which made me cry when I first heard it rip. thank you to @xbuchananbarnes for encouraging me on this one a few months back, and for putting up with me when I left it off with angst in the sneak peek<3

Warnings: allusions to sexy times, mentions of affairs and infidelity, but mostly just pure fluff <3

Words: 3868

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395 notes - Posted May 23, 2022

#4

The Itch – Masterlist

Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader

Summary: “It seems whatever suppressants HYDRA pumped you with over the years have flushed out of your system at last… you aren’t sick, Sergeant Barnes. You’re an Alpha who hasn’t known an Omega in more than 80 years.”

Warnings: smut smut smut smut smut 18+ PLEASE! also cussing probably, and later the implication of infidelity but sort of not really, (if you have concerns feel free to shoot me an ask and i can explain further!)

A/N: this is just one of two different ABO au's i've been planning for a while teehee, but this is the shorter and more complete one so far! let me know if you'd like to be tagged!

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493 notes - Posted August 1, 2022

#3

The Family -- [Mafia AU, Oneshot]

40's Mob Boss!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky returns home from the war and finds himself with a lifetime's worth of mistakes to make up for. You aren't going to make it easy for him, but he wouldn't have it any other way.

Warnings: smut! gun violence, ptsd, dad bucky (prepare ur ovaries) language, bucky having been a dick in the past, mentions of crime and such. The reader has a name, but it only comes up every so often so.... i think thats it?

Notes: This is one of my fave oneshots that I wrote for my patreon, so unless ya'll used to follow me there, this is an entirely new piece <3 This was basically an excuse to write Mob Power Couple Bucky x Reader, and also Dad!Bucky <3

Words: 17k!!!!!!!!!!!

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1,071 notes - Posted September 5, 2022

#2

The Itch [1/3]

Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader

Summary: “It seems whatever suppressants HYDRA pumped you with over the years have flushed out of your system at last… you aren’t sick, Sergeant Barnes. You’re an Alpha who hasn’t known an Omega in more than 80 years.”

Warnings: smut smut smut smut smut 18+ PLEASE! also cussing probably, and later the implication of infidelity but sort of not really, (if you have concerns feel free to shoot me an ask and i can explain further!)

A/N: this is just one of two different ABO au’s i’ve been planning for a while teehee, but this is the shorter and more complete one so far! let me know if you’d like to be tagged!

Word Count: 3.6k

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1,552 notes - Posted August 1, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

No Strings Attached

Ex!Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: “Every time you’ve called me, I’ve come,” Steve says, voice thick with hurt, and you clench your teeth. “Every. Time.”

Warnings: smut! language, hurt, exes to lovers &lt;3

Notes: this is one of my fave oneshots i've ever written tbh. i really love the trope of people breaking up, because of xyz issue, and then the person with xyz issue actively works to resolve or change it, but with no expectation of reuniting, just because they want to be a better person. so ye, that's basically this whole fic lmao

Words: 15,849

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4,373 notes - Posted September 15, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[gluion]

persist and resist (but still, fail) ➵ lee juyeon

lee juyeon x reader

all it takes is one phone call for you to realize what you could’ve had with juyeon

genre/warnings ➵ angst, almost lovers, long-distance but not-in-a-relationship, unspoken words/hidden signals, a lot of wondering of what could’ve been

word count ➵ 730 words

inspired by ➵ “the 1” by taylor swift, that one skype call in “past lives”

a/n ➵ very reminiscent of my upcoming jichang fic entitled “finger trapped (ripped to its seams)” but its taking a bit to pump out (and i'm very much in my feelings as we speak...) so bear with me and enjoy this drabble for now :33 do reblog and leave feedback!!

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist

it’s quiet uptown. as you smell the winter air, frozen kisses graze your cheeks. sounds of cars have been replaced with the buzzing of lamposts and flakes have taken raindrops’ role. on the snow-piled balcony, you hear the wood crackle behind you.

yet, warmth is stored in the voice on the other line.

“so, what’s it like there?” the rasp that accompanies juyeon’s words remind you of the time zone difference between you two. while it may be crack of dawn in korea, night has fallen at where you stand.

“you’ve asked that question how many times in this call.” a giggle leaves you. “you’re making me think that you never listen.”

a soft hum leaves him. “you know that’s not true.” your fingers grip on the blanket draped on your shoulders. “what are you up to?”

“damn, not even letting me answer the thousand questions you seem to have for me.”

“sorry,” he chuckles, “just never hear from you.”

for a moment, all you can do is sniffle.

“it’s quiet here. everyone’s off to see their families.” your hand reaches out to rail, writing the characters of his name on the snow, as you bask in the stillness of the town. “i like it like this.”

“like it like what?”

“when it’s not busy. it’s only during the winter time when you’ll barely hear a horn or chatter.” a smile makes its way to your lips. “kind of like when we’d sneak into school during the summer time.”

heat waves would do its best to tie you down then, draining you of any energy to enjoy the wonders of summer, but you and juyeon were drawn to adventures. while there would be trips to the mart to grab the familiar taste of chocolate popsicles or the playground you’ve bruised your knees at, the school seemed to call on your names. the empty hallways whispered the narratives of students who came before you two—you were certain that yours and juyeon’s story would be told, as well.

“god, i can’t believe we had so much time to waste then,” juyeon admits over the memory. only a hum leaves you. “i miss it.”

a beat passes.

“yeah, me too.” the whisper barely leaves you.

there’s a life in korea that you’ve lost—the quiet exchange of laughter during classes, the smell of fresh kkwabaegi fresh from the fryer, and the nights spent stargazing.

but in the life you have now—in the stillness of your room during midnights, the rush hours of your commute, the conservations you have with the locals—you can’t help but wonder, wonder, wonder. 

would you be in a 9-to-5 job at a corporate workplace or performing at sold-out venues? would you wake up early in the morning to bake or would you sleep in the comfort of your own bed? or would you go back to school and dive into the niche topics you’ve always wanted to explore?

but would you live alone in a different part of korea or travel around the world with him? would you wake up to the smell of freshly-cooked pancakes or microwaved fried rice from the night before? or would he latch to your body that’s reached the highest degrees, or would you make him soup during flu season? (he’s always had a weak immune system. did that change?) 

there’s a life in korea that you long for—and there’s a person that you’ve lost. if things were only different, maybe you’d have him for many orbits around the sun.

did he ever think of a life you two could’ve had?

“hey, i have to go,” you say.

“oh,” juyeon’s tone is laced with disappointment, “okay.”

for a moment, not a word is exchanged between you two.

“talk soon?” his question takes you by surprise.

you would’ve loved to agree—yes! i’ll make sure to come visit—but you only smile to yourself with held back tears.

“bye, juyeon.”

that was enough of an answer for him. “okay. bye.”

the call drops. the warmth that your phone held has disappeared. while it makes sense to retreat back into your flat, bask in the heat emitting from the fireplace and read the words of sylvia plath, you remain standing on the snow-piled balcony.

it didn’t matter what you two could’ve had. it didn’t matter if he wondered the same things.

but it could’ve been him—that’s all you know.

perma taglist ➵ @deoboyznet@kflixnet@blankjournal@winterchimez@miusgirl@jenoscafe@sweet-unicorn-world@vernyangel@mosviqu@stealanity@deobi0412@blue-rainydays@maessseongs

[avocadosockz]

Do you have any advice for staying motivated during workouts?

I am at a point where when I for example run on the treadmill and have set a goal to run x miles/intervals or run for an hour or whatever, I still tell myself when I get a bit tired “you know what, no one’s going to try and stop you if you just call it a session now”. So. I guess I haven’t got a lot of willpower atm

(Find it a little easier when doing strength exercises I think, maybe because I find that more fun/less monotone and I feel the progress faster, but still I stop before I am completely exhausted in those cases too)

ooh this is such a great question!!

tbh i hate cardio with a burning passion i’m a goalie so i don’t swim very far ever so i do mostly strength training and cardio if im forced to.

when i do force myself my run, my sister has us do a taylor swift playlist where each song is either walk, jog, or run, and generally the pattern is walk run jog run jog run walk

both of us are water polo players so we hate anything land cardio related but when on land i honestly use music to just dissociate and/or pump myself up

holding myself accountable during like a swim set by myself is so hard though so i get where you’re coming from, over winter break i was swimming and was like “literally no one would know if i just didn’t finish this set” and so i honestly changed the workout so that instead of the rest of the swim set, i did 10 more minutes of treading that still got my heart rate up but i enjoyed it so much more

if i have to swim 1000 yards and part of it is sprint and i break it up because although no one would know if i just didn’t do it, no one is forcing me to get it done on a certain time so slowing down and eventually getting up to the point i want to be at is so much more satisfying for me than forcing myself to train at a level that will burn me out

finding your strengths in exercise can take a while but it’s so advantageous for finding the best way to motivate yourself.

hopefully this was helpful? i loved this kind of question and im always down to talk about this or literally anything else

[anapotatowriter]

Hi! Congratulations on 100! You're on your way up <3

Can I request 🌆 Wildest Dreams  - Taylor Swift with Percy Jackson in New York City? I know it's where it's set but I love New York lol

Under the rain

Percy Jackson x reader

A/N: THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING! HONESTLY, IT IS SUCH AN HONOR TO HAVE YOU PARTICIPATE WITH ME IN THIS CELEBRATION. Also, this is my first PJO ask, so please give feedback! I hope you like this, sugar!

Summary: Idk how to summarise this-

Contains: Swearing, and a very googled understanding of NYC-

Requested: I mean, duh~

“Come on Annabeth, we have to!” I protested again as I flopped onto her bed, making the blonde groan in frustration. “I said no, Y/N! It could be dangerous!” she exclaimed back, shoving me slightly so I fell off the small bed and onto the ground. “Fine! I’ll go convince Piper then,” I huffed, marching back to my own cabin, the Aphrodite cabin. “Pipes?” I called as soon as I entered the cabin, making her look up from her book. “You know you’re my favorite sister, right?” I said innocently, walking up to the girl, who raised an unimpressed eyebrow. She sighed heavily before saying, “What exactly do you want, Y/N?” “Please can we go explore New York City? I have wanted to see it for so long, especially after all the stories Percy told me!” I pleaded. “Oh… well, yeah, sure! Who all is coming?” asked Piper, immediately making me grin and jump in celebration. “Oh, Percy, Annabeth, Leo, Frank, Jason, and Hazel!” I said, listing off my friends at Camp on my fingers. Now that we had helped the gods so much, we had all taken a pact to have a summer at Camp to do whatever we wanted, no battles, gods, titans, or anything else. 

“Yes! I’ll go tell Jason!” she squealed, jumping off the bed and abandoning her book to go inform her boyfriend of our plans. “Tell Leo and Hazel too!” I called as she pushed past me, making her give me vague thumbs up before hurrying away. I chuckled and rolled my eyes at her excitement before going and searching for Percy, deciding to inform Annabeth of our plans later. “PERCYPECRYPERCYPECRY,” I yelled without breathing excitedly toward the stables, where he was talking with Blackjack. “Whoa whoa whoa, beloved, what is it?” asked the boy as I practically pummeled into him, making him grasp my shoulders steadily. “WE’RE GOING TO NEW YORK THIS EVENING!” I practically yelled in celebration, making the crease of concern between his eyebrows turn into a bright grin, the boy's green eyes sparkling. “Yes!” he exclaimed, pumping his fist in the air in celebration, “I have so much to show you!” He easily slipped his arm around my shoulders, making me nervous all of a sudden, though I reveled in the sudden warmth his body brought. 

“How did you even manage to convince Wise Girl?” he asked, nudging the side of my stomach with his other hand. “... well… I didn’t? I just sort of convinced everyone else, and she’ll be forced to come in order to keep an eye on us,” I shrugged. “Dam, L/N, I might have to steal that tactic sometime,” he said, an inspired expression on his face. When I turned my face to look at him, the sun shone just right on the planes of his face, his hair falling into his eyes and dripping sweat. I admired this angle of his face for a second before jerking my head to snap out of it. “Now go take a shower, you dumbass, you’re sweating like a pig” I joked, pushing the boy away, instantly missing the warmth he provided as he stumbled before gracefully walking off while facing me, his hands up in surrender. “Yes ma’am,” he called before flashing a smile and jogging toward his cabin. I placed my hand on the spot near my arms where his own hand had been, the same feeling of electricity not forming under the warmth of my own hand. “Y/N FUCKING L/N!” I suddenly heard from the Athena cabin, Piper running out of there a few seconds later. I gulped, fear sparking in my heart where there had been an unabashed joy as I went in to face the beast.

After receiving a scary telling-off from the blonde, she rolled her eyes and told me to get ready. “And I’m coming with you! God knows you demigods love to get into trouble with humans, drachnae, and even a freaking minotaur! You and Percy’s track record has not been great,” ranted Annabeth as she grabbed at different jeans and sweaters to try and figure out how she would look best. I smiled secretly before running off to my own cabin, reveling in the success of my plan.

“Hey Perce,” I said as soon as I reached the group, smacking Percy on the side of his shoulder. “Finally,” I heard the group groan in unison, making me roll my eyes. “Oh shut up, you big dramatic babies,” I said, quickly changing the topic when I felt Annabeth glare at me. “Shall we go, beloved?” asked Percy, offering the crook of his elbow to me. “We shall,” I grinned, entwining my elbow with his and walking away, the rest of the group trailing behind us, jokes every once in a while making all of us laugh. We caught the bus and soon reached the heart of New York City, Times Square. People hustled around us, the heartbeat that thrummed right under the surface of the pavement electrifying the surroundings. Lights lit up the otherwise dark night, and buildings and billboards flashing shone neon colors on all of us. Blue light streamed down right on the boy who stood next to me, his hair blacker under the colored light than it was in the sun. The boy then looked at me and caught my eye, asking, “Beautiful, isn’t it?” “Very,” I hummed, looking at the blue lights twinkling in Percy's eyes, his pupils expanded to the point where there was only a sliver of green visible in his eyes. “Where do we go first?” questioned Jason, breaking the spell that had made my heart surge. “BROADWAY!” exclaimed Leo, always the musical theatre fanatic. He ran away from our group to go see the show. Annabeth told us to meet here again in an hour while running after Leo, proceeding to yell at him about pedestrian safety and how jaywalking was illegal. Jason and Piper walked away too, mentioning a little bit about visiting The Metropolitan Museum of Art. Frank and Hazel left too, though I hadn't paid enough attention to understand where they were going. Soon, this left Percy and me standing at the plaza, unsure of where to go. “Empire State Building?” I suggested, immediately making Percy and I grimace. “I know a place,” nodded Percy, taking my hand in his gently and tugging me to some unknown destination. 

After catching a bus, we walked up until, “Brooklyn Bridge!” I looked around in awe at the thick cables that connected to the arches at the center of the bridge. “My favorite place in all of New York,” proclaimed Percy, pulling me along down the walkway of the bridge, the leather cuffs of his jacket rubbing against my bare wrist. “This is so.. Beautiful,” I commented, looking around the view that being at the center of the bridge revealed. People jostled around us, but the only thing on my mind was Percy’s warm hand in my own, and the glistening water that surrounded the Brooklyn bridge. Suddenly, thunder clapped, making everyone around us run down the bridge toward the shelter as the surrounding river lit up a blinding white. “Should we go?” asked Percy, as it started drizzling, though we remained bone dry cause of his abilities. “Nope,” I hummed, pulling my hand from his grasp, the first droplets of rain immediately colliding with my skin. I laughed softly, closing my eyes and looking at the sky, tiny droplets of water landing over my face and dripping down into my clothes. “Come on, Percy, this is amazing!” I looked at the boy to see him looking at me fondly before his nose scrunched in concentration as he squeezed his eyes shut. Soon enough, his hair started sticking to the sides of his face from the water droplets. He then opened his eyes, pushing his wet hair from his face, grinning at me. “Tag, you’re it,” I said immediately, tapping Percy’s shoulder before running away from him, glancing back to see his face morph into shock. “I’m going to catch you,” he said through chuckles before running after me, making me sprint on the wet pavements, my footsteps causing small splashes of water. Very quickly, however, I felt a set of arms pick me up from behind me, Percy’s voice whispering in my ear, “Gotcha!”

I started laughing loudly, struggling to get out of his grasp in vain. “Let me down, bastard,” I squealed, making the boy let me down gently and grab my shoulders to make me face him. “Face it, beloved, I am better than you,” said Percy cockily, smirking at me. I involuntarily shivered at that moment, immediately making the smirk disappear from his face, replaced by concern. Percy immediately took off his jacket, placing it on top of both of us, the leather proving coverage against the pounding rain, and a sense of warmth. I looked through my eyelashes to see that our faces were in close proximity, Percy’s lips barely centimeters from mine. I let out an involuntary gasp when I felt his warm exhales against my cheeks, water dripping down his eyebrows on my face. In a burst of courage from Percy’s glowing pink cheeks, I brought my lips closer to his so they were barely touching, providing him an opportunity to pull away. Instead, he pushed his lips harder against mine, enveloping me in warmth as his powers slowly caused us to dry off. He slowly pushed away from me, placing his forehead against mine, his now dry hair gently tickling my face. “So what do you think, beloved? You wanna be my girlfriend?” asked the boy, an endearing smile on his face as he looked at me hopefully. “I would love to… lover,” I said, the nickname rolling off my tongue easily as I grasped his shirt and pulled him into another kiss.

Tagging: @scandalous-chaos

[allthislove]

There’s a certain type of white woman that hates Meghan Markle on principle.

TW for su*c*de mention.

I said in the previous post that they hate that Meghan illustrates that white femininity is not the gold standard that they have been taught that it is. And this, in my opinion, is exactly what their problem is. And this is why I have no patience or sympathy or kindness for these women. It’s not a new phenomenon. I’ve seen it before in fandoms. The way a significant group of white fangirls hated and still hate Iris West on The Flash because she’s Black and is the love interest of the cute, white main character guy. They go out of their way to ship him with any white girl he knows, because they can’t wrap their head around him choosing a Black woman over them. They need to feel like their whiteness automatically makes them more desirable than any Black woman. Even when they are gorgeous and smart and wonderful like Meghan Markle or Candace Patton.

That’s all I see from these white women. I see obvious and transparent jealousy that, if they couldn’t have Prince Harry, it wasn’t another white girl they could project themselves onto. It was a Black girl (and in many of the British white women’s cases, an AMERICAN Black girl.) And yes, I know Meghan Markle is biracial, but that hardly seems to matter to white people. They don’t see someone who is white with them. They see tainted blood. The tragic mulatto stereotype. All they see is a Black girl who dared to sink her grubby paws into the Prince Charming they were told they were owed their entire lives. All they see is a street hoochie who saw dollar signs and isn’t good enough. An uppity n*gress who doesn’t know her place. 

I see it in the venomous way they say she “wants attention” every time she does or says anything. If she touches her baby bump, or says “It’s a girl!” on TV. It doesn’t matter that it’s the daughter of a prince, one of the most famous princes in the world, and it would be huge news that he was having a daughter no matter who his wife was. To them, the tainted negro children might as well not even be Harry’s. They’re Meghan’s, and she’s somehow awful for daring to birth them or even be happy about it.

It’s in the way they call a millionaire actress a “gold digger”, or say nonsense things like “she was a washed up actress before she met him” (She was STARRING ON A CABLE TV SHOW, which is a good enough job for Jennifer Aniston, but when it’s Meghan Markle, it’s “washed up.”) 

They say things like this, because they can get the benefit of the doubt and claim they don’t hate her because she’s Black. Because if they say that, they’d show their true colors. But they do.

Because all in all, she’s done nothing wrong. All in all, she’s just a woman who married a prince. ANY woman on Earth, including Beyonce and Taylor Swift, would get a profile and position boost from marrying into the British Royal Family. Again, it’s THE MOST FAMOUS ROYAL FAMILY ON EARTH. There are other royals, but most of the world doesn’t even know many of the other royals, unless they’re from those countries or just happen to be interested in royalty in general. EVERYONE knows Harry and Will. 

Kate Middleton was a veritable nobody when she married Will.

Meghan Markle was at least a pretty successful actress with a following of her own. And SHE’S the gold digger? It’s thinly veiled racist language. It’s the image of the ghetto Black woman pumping out babies to trap a man. It’s the idea that a Black woman can’t be worth anything on her own so she chases a rich man.

I mean, I know Priyanka isn’t Black, but similar things were said about her when she married Nick, and she’s PRIYANKA CHOPRA. She was already a huge Bollywood star. And again, it was white women leading conversations like this, because again, they were faced with the reality that white femininity is not the gold standard. That a South Asian woman could get their favorite heartthrob and they couldn’t, nor did a cute white girl they could project themselves on.

DON’T GET ME STARTED ON THE “MEGHAN MADE KATE CRY” LIE! This is a prime example of the weaponization of white femininity to demonize Black people. Been going on for centuries and will continue to. Weaponizing tears is the white woman’s bread and butter, especially if it can be used to demonize a Black woman. “Oh, boo hoo, that brutish Black thing made sweet little fragile, porcelain white me cry!” And to find out it was the other way around and NOBODY in that family said anything and just let the “angry Black woman” take the heat? It’s sick. And it’s common. It happens all the time. Because white femininity is soft and fragile and innocent, and Black women are never afforded that.

Even light skinned, biracial Black women like Meghan Markle. White women still refuse to believe she even has feelings. Crazy old hags like Megyn Kelly straight up think she LIED in the interview about HOW SHE FELT, because white people can’t imagine a Black person having feelings! They think we all just make it up because we’re trying to make them look bad or something, or that we like pretending to be hurt by their racism simply to make them look bad. So they don’t have to feel remorse for the racist shit they do and say. For making a pregnant woman hate herself so much that she didn’t want to live. 

Like, we all know how bad hormones make people feel during pregnancy anyway. They can’t even believe that a pregnant woman who was being disparaged DAILY by the British tabloids ... felt sadness or hopelessness because of it? 

Like, it really seems like white people think Black people have no feelings.

IDK, I’m still angry and hurt for her. And like, I’m so sick of white women only being feminists when it benefits them. I’m so sick of the absolute vitriol they have for Black women all the time. I HATE how they see us as beneath them, in every situation. 

I really think these racist hags thought Harry would pick one of them. And when he picked someone not white, they couldn’t take it. 

We have to stop letting white women hide behind this “I’m a woman, so I’m oppressed” shit, when they know exactly how to weaponize white supremacy to benefit themselves. And I don’t think Black women should have to be nice about it. White women need to get it to-fucking-gether and cut this shit out. Because it’s PERVASIVE, and like, when it’s a fictional character it’s one thing, but they literally drove this REAL, HUMAN WOMAN TO THE BRINK and they STILL refuse to stop. Inhumane cretins.