#for the people to look to when things are difficult

[thetransfemininereview]

Do you have any recommendations for gaining access to these books? I have a pretty long list of ones I want to read but can't afford most of them. The library has the big ones (Whipping Girl, Detransition Baby, Nevada) but the newer or less well known ones have been difficult to find

No this is actually so real though. Let's talk about it.

One of the big problems that I'm trying to address here is the fact that there is a lack of ability for trans books to reach their perhaps core audience, trans people. Over the last few years trans librarians have been trying to increase the number of trans books in circulation, but that's super contingent on where you live. Not to mention the fact that, at least in the US, states are actively trying to criminalize circulating trans books in libraries.

I know Tumblr is allergic to economics a lot of the time, but you've gotta look at the math to understand why this is the current state of things. Essentially it's a vicious cycle. Lots of trans people can't afford to buy a $25 hardcover on a whim, and traditional publishers put a lot of stock into how well a book performs on release, cause that's how they make money. So when the core audience can't afford it and isn't marketable, they register that as a lower demand, which means that fewer trans books get published, fewer end up in libraries, and the cost of an individual book is driven higher. Low demand, high price. Then because the price is high, trans people cant afford the books, and the cycle continues.

It is the dilemma of the transfemme author that most of their core audience is also gonna be transfemme. It's a self-selecting process that's very hard to break out of. And at the end of the day, there just isn't very much money to go around in the trans community because trans people so frequently get cut off from generational wealth. So when you get an ecosystem of transfemmes selling books to other transfemmes who also sell books to them....

I took a class on the Sociology of Art a few years ago, and one of my core takeaways was that the boundaries of a field (yes my teacher liked Bourdieu, come for her ass, not mine) are fundamentally governed by institutions and entities with the money and power to dictate their rules of play. In Althusser's language, you would call those ISAs (Ideological State Apparatuses). When you read Weber, he talks about how culture needs to have some level of social legitimation in order to become a force of power in the world (I butchered that but it's the gist lol). And it's like.

The people who have the money to read the books dictate which books receive the money. Organizations like Lambda Literary, presses, big name publishers, etc. One of the big problems in the field of trans literature up to this point is that the only people who've had the money to produce social legitimation from the organizing schema/matrix of an ISA have also only chosen to read a very small slice of the extant literature. Then, because those non-profits and presses and companies only champion a small selection of books, that in turn dictates for those who have less money which of those books deserve social attention, critical acclaim, sales, library slots, etc.

And like, all of that is an illusion, but it produces a material reality for the transfemme author. It dictates the material conditions for the reproduction of said literature and who can participate in it.

So, what's to be done about it?

"Buzz" is a big deal in the publishing industry. A good review, an award, a thinkpiece - all of that can be the difference between a successful book and a flop. Publishers look for that. If nobody talks about a book and it doesn't sell well, they'll drop the author faster than you can say Susan. Again, vicious cycle. But like, at the end of the day, a "field," an "ISA," a "legitimated" work of art, that's all just a class prerogative. The different between a Very Important Literary Blog and a "person talking about books on the internet" is money. Like. It's just money. The reality of it is really banal.

It's who has the money to read books. It's who has the money and time to write about books. It's who has the money to gain institutional access to book. It's who has the money to read enough to say, "Oh, well that might seem true, but if you look at X, Y, and Z it's clearly not." It takes money to fact check. It takes money to challenge institutional myths. It takes money because when an institution makes a claim about a book and none of the people who care enough to argue with them have the cash to challenge it, the claim tends to stand.

And like, the honest truth is that between the books, the website, and the education, I've spent a lot of money bringing this website online in the form you're reading it in. A lot of the books I've read were really fucking expensive. I grew up in a wealthy family, my parents were accepting. They have both the means and the desire to support my passion projects. I'm lucky.

The goal of The Transfeminine Review is to create at least one independently trans-run website that can challenge that brand of institutional legitimation work from non-profits and big publishers and cis outlets, a website that can actually highlight transfeminine literature as it exists in the world, not as the Big 5 publishers have dictated it. Topside, Metonymy, Arsenal Pulp, LittlePuss, etc. They've all taken on that challenge from the angle of producing books, but there hasn't been a corollary trans secondary ecosystem dedicated to documenting and critiquing them. Or there is, but it's extremely diffuse and hard to find if you don't know exactly what you're looking for. Then there are the general queer outlets, like them. and whatnot, and they do their best but literature is a side hustle at best. There's the queer-helmed literary outlets like Electric Lit (shout out Denne Michele Norris) but they spend most of their time talking about cis authors. None of it is designed to help or review self-published literature from poor authors, and let's be frank, most transfeminine publishing is still done indie or self.

It's an investment, essentially. On the longshot, the hope is that this website will inspire others to do similar work, and that eventually through the collective efforts of trans authors and their readership, we can begin to change the math on trans publishing and help to spread it to a wider audience.

Now.

None of this changes the current reality that trans lit is expensive.

Unless you're lucky, you're probably not gonna find much trans lit at the local library even if you dig for it. Another good place to find free trans books is transreads.org, but their selection is mostly non-fiction, and the fiction is, again, largely the same few books you can find elsewhere. Another good online queer library is https://www.queerliberationlibrary.org/, which might be a good place to look (shoutout to Skye for bringing it to my attention!)

There are a couple of cheaper places to find trans books. If you shop around on itch.io, a lot of self-published trans authors have "name your price" models, which can be more accessible. Creators on itch will also bundle their work on a fairly regular basis, so you can get like 10-20 books for $10, which is, by my token, an excellent price.

If there's a particular author you're interested in, a lot of self-pub trans authors have Patreon accounts where they serialize their novels. You also can find serial (pre-edit) versions of a bunch of books on Scribblehub.

This has gotten steadily less affordable over the last few years cause Amazon is evil, but Kindle Unlimited ($11.99 a month, but there's a free trial) has thousands of trans books. Most of them are erotica, but like, there are a lot of hidden gems in there, and if you're a voracious enough reader, then it'll definitely be much cheaper per book than buying trad.

The problem with all of these, though, is that they tend to favor specific genres and tropes. Like there's only so much variety on itch.io or Scribblehub or transreads.org or KU. So if you like the genre conventions, then awesome! But if you don't it's probably not for you.

And none of it will give you access to some of the rare older tradpub books or the new but scarce releases that I've been going through unless you're willing to pay the full price for them.

I wish I had a better answer, but that's unfortunately the current state of the industry :/

Hopefully this ramble is helpful.

Beth

[genderqueerdykes]

for people who are often in need of food and/or find themselves in a food emergency, it's more than okay to utilize your food bank. there are no requirements, it doesn't matter if you're totally homeless, on disability, disabled with little/no income, working under the table, a parent in need of help, working but poor, working and barely making ends meet, mentally ill, neurodivergent, or other situations where food is difficult to keep on the table, you are more than welcome to show up and get some food

some food banks require you to have proof of address (i know, it sucks) but in some cities some homeless shelters have the option for homeless folk to get their mail sent to the shelter's P.O. boxes, which will give you the "proof of address" they need, which is usually just some form of mail received at an address. always check with your local food bank to see what documents they require, if any, when possible

some food banks don't require any of that. some do require that you have a car so you can drive through and get boxes, but many do on-foot distribution. some even have delivery options. one of my food banks here does deliveries. it's worth looking into whatever you have going on in your local area if you struggle to keep food in your home. especially fresh fruits and vegetables. i can finally keep a steady supply of vegetables because i'm able to walk to a distribution a block away that happens every friday. it's been a blessing now that i have to cook all of my meals COMPLETELY from scratch to ensure i dont encounter trigger foods

engagement helps these types of programs stay afloat. the more people who show up, the more resources they will get. the government or whatever body runs these organizations need to know the community wants/needs these services in order to continue operating. don't feel bad if you stop by and grab some things if you're genuinely struggling to buy food and keep it around. it's okay to utilize these programs, that's what they're there for.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Your Specialty (S.R.)

Summary: Spencer sees his significant other comforting a child and it makes him wonder. A/N: Written for my best friend on her birthday. Couple: Spencer Reid/GN!Reader Category: Comfort Content Warning: Minor self-deprecation, implied difficult childhood, crying Word Count: 1k

MASTERLIST

Spencer loves you every day. There is never a doubt or a hesitation. With each glance, he finds something new to add to the ever-growing list of reasons why he is right to love you.

But there are some moments where even he, in his seemingly infinite wisdom, is unable to put into words the way he feels when it comes to you. In those moments, all he can do is silently soak in the unknowing.

It was a quiet moment, all things considered. There was no more bad guys to be caught, no more bloodshed to be had. Still, there were tears, as there usually were when you were around.

It wasn’t your fault. You just have a way about you that makes people feel… loved. Sometimes for the first time.

Spencer peers through his open office door to find you. You are on your knees, eyes locked with the young boy standing in front of you.

His small body shakes with incoherent sobs. He is held steady only by your gentle hands cupping his face. Despite the sight, you are smiling. A calm, subtle curve that holds him up in another way.

From where he is, Spencer can’t hear your words. But he can still feel the relief. He finds himself mirroring you both, with deep inhales fighting against the knot his throat. The air comes out warm and trembling.

In that moment, as he watches you comfort something small, he is a little boy again. He is the one lifting his arms in a silent request to be loved in a simple way.

And he can feel it. He feels your arms as they wrap around the little boy and lift him gently from the ground.

The feeling is almost too much, but he doesn’t look away. He watches and waits patiently for you to let the little boy go.

He waits for you to notice, to quickly come to him before your own trembling hands are noticed by the boy being carried away to what Spencer still hopes will be a happily ever after.

Spencer watches you the entire time. His own mind races, struggling still to find words to explain the feeling in his chest.

He’d almost gotten it when you interrupt the thought with a laugh.

“What is it?” you ask.

Any eloquence vanishes and is replaced with a stammer.

“You’re uh… you’re good at that,” he says. "Comforting kids."

Somehow, it sounds better than it did in his head.

Unbeknownst to the depths of the compliment, you glance over your shoulder to see the boy still watching you.

You recognize the same expression on your lover’s face.

“Kids are easy to love,” you answer.

He accepts your humility. He meets the modesty with his own typical self-deprecation.

“You should’ve seen me as a kid.”

Beneath the words, you hear the uncertainty. That stubborn, relentless fear that there is something rotten to be found in his heart.

You narrow your eyes as you inspect him. His shoulders square under your scrutiny. You look at him, carefully reviewing each wrinkle and freckle. You tilt your head to look at him in another way.

And you find nothing at all rotten.

“I would’ve liked that,” you tell him in earnest.

Emboldened, but still afraid, Spencer dares to take another step forward.

“What do you think you would’ve said?” he says like it’s a joke.

This time, your pause is a couple beats longer.

You look at the man in front of you and try to imagine him with teeth too big for a tiny frame. You imagine unruly curls and thick, crooked glasses perched over innocent eyes.

You look at the man you love and you see it. A small boy staring up at you in his oversized suit. Always trying to be both smaller and bigger than he was meant to be.

“I’d tell him,” you say, unsure of your own words, “that he’s strong and clever, and he shouldn’t have to try so hard to prove it to everyone.”

Spencer sucks in a breath that betrays his aloof demeanor. The words hit him like a swift blow to the stomach. But even with the pain, he hopes you’re not finished.

You’re not.

“I’d tell him that I know he’s trying his hardest, and sometimes things are bigger than us and…”

You bite your tongue to stop tears from welling. You breathe in sharply, reaching up to place both palms against his reddened cheeks. You laugh as they shift towards a goofy grin despite tears.

“I’d tell him that everything’s going to be okay,” you say confidently.

“Oh,” he chuckles; a sad but necessary sound.

"Yeah."

Gentle thumbs wipe each droplet that manages to spill from big golden brown eyes. The same as you had moments before, you catch what you can of his sadness and turn it to comforting warmth across his cheek.

Spencer bites his lip, looking down at your feet before daring to look at you again. Because when he does, he loses his breath and his sense once more.

“I, uh... I think he would’ve liked that,” he confesses.

“I know,” you whisper with a genuine remorse. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

Spencer accepts the apology but refuses to stay in the past any longer.

“But you’re here now,” he says quickly.

“Yeah, I am,” you laugh in return. “Good luck getting rid of me now.”

But letting you go is the furthest thing from his mind. In fact, he pulls you closer until there is nothing but atoms between you. Strong arms embrace you and his clever words muffle against your hair.

“I wouldn’t even dare to try.”

Together, you settle into the silence. You share your warmth without restraint. Just two bodies swaying in a simple and symbiotic embrace. You enjoy the comfort, the company, the lack of need for words to describe it all.

And once you feel he’s had his fill, you sigh against his shirt.

“You know, I’m going to get through to that little boy eventually.”

Spencer halts his step as he starts to laugh.

“Is that a threat?” he asks.

Without moving from your place against him, you smile.

“Watch out, Dr. Reid,” you hum. “I’ve been told I’m good at this.”

Spencer accepts the warning with a smile.

“Yes," he chuckles. "Yes, you are.”

(Tell me what you thought of this fic here!)

[lovelookspretty]

lover of mine

drew starkey x actress!reader au

— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.

warnings: cute silly little gesture from drewseph 😋 progress progress

one | two | three | four | five | six

authors note: this is just part 2 of day 2 so i’ll incorporate the movie night in the next part fs. let me know if u still want to be added to the tag list through replies, anons, or dms !! notifications are always on <3

you’re awoken by the light coming in through the blinds. it’s subtle, but it’s there. it bothers you and causes you to stir awake.

you can hear drew snoring—a habit you know all too well, but you ignore it. your eyes flutter open as you look around the room, then you look at him.

he’s dead asleep, but he’s on his stomach, his face parallel to yours. his mouth is a little open and one of his arms is underneath his pillow, hoisting him slightly higher, while his other is reaching toward your side of the bed.

you yawn as you twist your body and grab your phone off the nightstand, then check the time. it’s already noon. the others must be up and awake by now.

you drop your phone on your lap and use that hand to shake drew awake gently, but when he doesn’t wake up the first time is when you get a little rougher.

“star,” you tell him, in hopes that he gets up at least now or soon. you don’t want either of you to miss any of the plans going on that day. “wake up, come on,” you say, and drew’s eyes open once before he closes them again, and his legs move underneath the blanket slowly. he’s waking up.

“mmh,” he moans, and because his eyes are closed you know that he’s trying to fall back asleep. you retract your arm and get up from the bed. you figure he’ll wake up anyway, he knows he has to.

you walk over to the door and open it, then peek your head out into the hall. you look around for anyone, but all you find is theo walking upstairs to his and leila’s room with two plates of food.

“hey,” you say, then pause to clear your throat. you’ve already caught theo’s attention. “what are we doing today?”

theo shakes his head, his mouth full of his piece of toast. “not today,” his words are difficult to understand so he drops the piece of toast on one of the plates. “tonight. leila has this checklist that’s guiding our everyday, and she said she’s been wanting to just stay in one night, relax, watch some movies. it’s gonna be chill, but it’s only that.”

you nod, patting the doorframe twice. “thank you,” you say, then pull back into your room as you add, “and good morning!”

“‘morning,” theo says, and you close the door gently.

when you turn around you see that drew’s awake. or at least he’s changed positions. he’s lying on his side now, facing you again. you watch him as you return to your side of the bed. he has to flip onto his other side again when you even leave his sight.

“free day until movie night tonight. leila’s orders,” you say, and there’s a small smile on his face before he rubs his eyes with his palm. you look around the bed for your phone with a frown, “could sleep in ‘til tonight if we wanted to.”

“we?” he asks, and it’s like he’s caught you already suggesting plans for the both of you.

“if i . . . wanted to,” you correct yourself, then pause for a moment while you rub the back of your neck, looking away. “libby did say she could help me with some audition tapes today though.”

drew groans, stuffing his head back into his pillow. “why are you working during the two weeks we’re supposed to do anything but that?” he whines, as if you’re dragging him along to do it too.

you shrug, “some people are expected to book their next role as soon as possible. now that tempest is over, i want to start working on my next big thing.”

“tempest was the next big thing, you won an mtv award for it,” drew reminds you.

you think back to your tv series that had went on for six years, a good chunk of your life, before it ended just recently with its final season. tempest is the reason why you met drew in the first place—he shared his praise for your lead role at one of his movie premieres years and years ago.

you shake your head at him. “okay,” you say, deciding to get up and out of bed.

“where are you going?”

“i’m not gonna work but i’m not just gonna lay around in bed all day,” you tell him, and you leave the room to freshen up in the bathroom.

you hear a few footsteps that descend the staircase and you can’t help but peer over your shoulder to see who it is. it’s oscar. you’re seated at the kitchen island, and he’s just minding his own business as he retrieves something from his backpack it seems like, then he looks to you.

he’s kind. there’s a genuine smile on his face as he nods his head at you. “good morning,” he says.

he turns to leave and you try to return it, “good morning.” you clear your throat as you continue to watch him head upstairs. from there, you can see someone walking across the hall, just from their feet.

you can recognize his patterned socks. it’s drew.

“hey!” leila’s voice is a jumpscare and you can’t help but react quickly, facing forward like you’re a child getting caught stealing candy. leila laughs when she realizes she scared you. “sorry . . . i thought you heard me come in. are you ready?”

you’re dressed to go out to town, as leila said earlier that she wanted to visit the local market nearby. you nod your head at her and shuffle off of the chair.

“who’s driving?” drew asks as he jogs down the stairs and pulls his crewneck over his head. you barely cast a glance at his body before you look into his eyes, and he walks over. “am i?”

“yes—” leila tries to say before you cut in.

“you’re coming with us?” you ask. you don’t necessarily have a problem with it, it’s just why was it kept from you?

“problem?”

“i don’t know. is there one?” you furrow your eyebrows at him and tilt your head to the side, but you realize the way you’re talking to him.

he squints his eyes at you in question, then glances up at leila. he’s not sure whether you're teasing him or not, but he lets out a short, awkward laugh. “okay, let’s not get dramatic,” he says lightly.

leila, sensing the unease, smiles as she steps in. “i figured we could all go together! it’s a trio outing now! plus, you two are joined at the hip anyway.” she says it like it's the most natural thing, blissfully unaware of how the statement lands between you and drew.

you swallow the discomfort and force a smile as you get off the chair, grabbing your bag. drew’s eyes linger on you for a moment before he turns and follows you both out the door.

“careful,” he warns you about your blatant attitude.

you know he’s right, and you mutter out, “sorry.”

the car hums as you’re driven down to the beach market, then get out to enter. it’s not a huge deal being seen out in public together—you’ve done this before. but of course it’s different now. there’s something strange about holding drew’s hand when you know, deep down, it’s all for show. but you don't pull away.

when you reach the town, you spot a few people recognizing you—actors always catch eyes, even in quieter towns like this one. drew stays close, his hand still gripping yours, a comfortable smile playing on his lips as the three of you wander around.

a couple of fans approach you, their faces lighting up at the sight of you and drew together. “oh my god, i loved you two in hellraiser! this feels like a dream," one of them gushes, and for a split second, you feel drew’s hand squeeze yours tighter.

you try to play it off, laughing softly as you and him pose for a quick picture with the younger girl.

after, drew steps beside you, leaning forward with his hands behind his back as a few record him. “we’re glad you enjoyed it,” he says, flashing his grin. you feel a familiar flutter in your stomach, a reminder of all those moments you used to share during press events like this.

another girl beams, and what seems like her mother is standing there with her, “you look even prettier in person! can we take another photo?”

“of course!” you laugh, and you part from drew to tend to the few of them.

drew is just standing a few feet away, his gaze locked on you. his expression is unreadable—something between admiration and something deeper, something heavier.

leila catches onto his lingering stare, and she approaches him with a smirk, nudging his arm. “you’re staring,” she teases, her tone light. drew blinks and breaks his gaze, glancing down at leila like he’s been caught.

“was not,” he mutters. his eyes flick back to you for a second, but he quickly looks away again.

leila’s inspecting a few trinkets before glancing back at him, a knowing look on her face. “you’re a terrible liar, you know,” she says. “you’re staring, and don’t think i didn’t notice at the firepit either.”

drew shifts uncomfortably, trying to find a way to defend himself. “okay, well yeah, because she’s my girlfriend!” he says a little too loud, and even you look up at him and furrow your eyebrows before returning to what you’re doing.

“okay, i’m joking. god, please lighten up. you can stare at your girlfriend all you want. who cares?” she says, waving a hand dismissively. “is everything good with you two?”

drew hesitates, glancing over at you as you smile politely at another fan. “yeah, everything’s fine,” he says, the words coming out too quickly. “why wouldn’t it be?”

leila narrows her eyes, watching him closely. “i don’t know, you’re acting a little . . . weird. normally, you’re more laid-back when she’s off and doing stuff on her own. but lately, you’ve been all . . . protective. intense, even.” she pauses, studying his face. “is something going on?”

he rubs the back of his neck. “no, we’re good. we’re good.”

leila hums, her fingers tracing one of the bracelets on a stall table. “you know, i talked to y/n last night,” she says carefully, her voice soft. “she said you guys have been stressed with work lately, but that everything’s good between you. still . . . i don’t know, something feels off. you both seem a little . . . distant.” she gives him a gentle nudge. “i’m not trying to pry, but i just want to make sure you’re okay. i already asked her, so now i’m asking you.”

drew stiffens slightly, but forces a small laugh, trying to brush it off. “yeah, work has been a lot lately. it’s probably just that—stress, you know? juggling schedules, auditions, appearances . . . it’s hard to get time for ourselves.”

“i get that. trust me, theo and i have been there too with our careers. it can get messy, but...” she trails off, giving him a sincere look. “you and y/n have always had something really special. and i know it’s not my business, but if something’s really bothering you—or her—you guys should talk it out. don’t let it fester.”

he shifts on his feet, the words striking closer than he’d like. he nods, though, appreciating her concern. “yeah, you’re right. i know we need to talk more, make time for that.”

leila smiles, “good. i’m here for both of you, okay? if you need to blow off steam or talk, don’t hesitate. i can tell there’s more going on than just ‘work stress,’ but i trust you’ll figure it out.”

drew forces a grin, trying to play it cool. “thanks, lei. we’ll be fine.”

leila holds his gaze for a moment longer, then nods as she steps back toward the vendor. “you better be. you guys are a strong power couple around here,” she jokes lightly.

as she glances over drew’s shoulder, her gaze settles on a nearby flower shop across the street. she doesn’t say anything, but her eyes linger, then shift back to him. there’s a soft smile playing on her lips, and she raises her brows in a silent suggestion.

he follows her line of sight, his eyes landing on the shop. it takes him a second, but he gets it. leila doesn’t need to say the words. he knows exactly what she’s trying to tell him.

“really?” he asks, dropping his smile. “you’re playing wingman?”

“wingwoman, but you know.” she gives a small, almost teasing shrug. “i mean, they’re her favorite, right? might not fix everything, but it’s a start. little things, drew.”

his eyes flick back to the shop, an old habit of buying you flowers bubbling up in his chest. “yeah, she always liked those kinds of flowers,” he murmurs, half to himself.

he nods, muttering a quiet “thanks” under his breath, as leila gives him a knowing smile before turning back to browse a nearby stall.

drew makes his way over to the flower shop, eyes scanning for your favorite blooms. the vendor helps him put together a simple yet thoughtful bouquet, and drew can't help but feel anxious but hopeful.

a few minutes later, he looks for you amongst everyone. you’ve already found leila, as you two inspect something on a stand just a few stalls down. you must not have seen drew when he was handling the flowers.

he makes his way over, and his presence is warm behind you that causes you to peer over your shoulder. you’re startled when you realize there’s actually someone there, and he’s so close. you immediately notice the flowers.

your eyebrows lift in amusement as he grins. “oh, what’s this?” you ask, your tone teasing, though there's a flicker of surprise behind your eyes.

drew holds the bouquet out, his voice soft. “for you,” he says. “maybe to make the day a little better.”

you look at the flowers, hesitating for a second before taking them. there’s a small warmth in your chest that you try to suppress, but it shows in the way your lips twitch upward into a faint smile. “thank you,” you say quietly, studying the flowers briefly before your gaze shifts back to him.

you can’t help but wrap your open arm around his neck and pull him close. his gesture is sweet and unexpected. drew’s arms finds your waist before he’s hugging you back, even tighter, but trying to be polite with how long he squeezes you.

you feel bold, and you lean away from him before pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. it’s brief, almost hesitant, but enough to make drew’s breath get caught in his throat for a second.

as you pull away, you notice his glance toward leila, who's standing just a few feet away, pretending to be deeply engrossed in whatever she's holding. but she can’t hide the small wink she throws his way when he meets her gaze, a playful, silent “you're welcome” before she turns back around.

you catch it at the very last second and your mouth gapes open, so you take a step back. “are you two conspiring now?” you ask, in fake shock.

he chuckles softly. “just trying to be a good boyfriend.”

“mhm,” you murmur, but your smile lingers, and you look up at him to mumble a small “thank you” again, to which he waves it off like it’s nothing. even though you're hesitant, you can't deny that the gesture worked—at least a little.

@rubixgsworld @itgirlbrina @thepopcultureaddict @samsmelodrama @kissfinalgirl @itsamegazaddysworld @willowpains

[hermetiqa]

What will your future spouse's friends think of you?

Reminder: it doesn't matter if you saw this reading a day or a week or a month or a year after posting this. My readings are timeless. You'll see this when you're meant to see this and receive your message.

Close your eyes and take a deep breath before picking a pile. If you feel drawn to more than one pile, it's alright, you may take the piles that you're drawn to. What's important is to take it how it resonates and leave what doesn't.

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NOTE: Please feel free to give me a feedback on my asks about the reading! I would highly appreciate it and it'll be a huge help for me to improve as a reader.

PILE 1

Hello, Pile 1! I'm seeing that your future spouse's friends will think of you as someone who's very hardworking and career-oriented. I can see that you have some strong masculine energy here. You could have fire and air signs in your chart, I'm hearing Aries, Leo, and Libra mostly. I can also see that they'll think of you as someone who's very changed your future spouse. It's like your future spouse is someone who likes to play games and never ever became serious in relationships, but that changed because of you. And because of this, your future spouse's friends are scared that you might be the one playing the game now (this is when you're still dating/in a relationship, basically not yet married). They'll think of you as someone who's untrustworthy, it's like they can never trust you with something because you might snitch on them or betray them in some way. Basically, I don't see that they'll like you much at first. Despite their admiration for your great qualities especially when it comes to your independence and goals in life, they're scared that you might hurt your future spouse (when you're still dating) and not hesitate to leave them anytime when it's not working out, and they know that your future spouse will never get over you because again, this will be the first time that they'll get serious in a relationship. But after a while and when you're married, your future spouse's friends will eventually warm up to you and like you, and they'll start to be friends with you and realize that they're wrong about you all along.

PILE 2

Hello, Pile 2! So I'm seeing that your future spouse's friends will think of you as someone who's very has good judgement in almost everything. You know how to see things in different perspectives at the same time, you're almost never biased in anything even in difficult situations. I can see that you have the tendency to make difficult situations often, but you still make the right decision most of the time (if not all). They have a lot of admiration for you and they look up to you. They see you as a great person, even a role model for the younger ones. They'll think you have a lot of good things in the future with your future spouse. You'll have a wonderful future ahead of you together. There might be times that you need some time alone, but you still manage to socialize. Your future spouse's friends will see you as someone who's very friendly and charming. You charm a lot of people. You're also very smart for them and you know a lot of things. You have a wide knowledge when it comes to information, especially social issues and/or anything related to business. I feel like some of your future spouse's friends will even come to you for some advice because they see you as a really matured person who can handle everything. They look up to you and they think you're such a lover person. It's like you care for everyone and you take good care of everyone as much as you can, especially the ones who need it. 01:10 on the clock. Do I need to say more? They'll like you sooo much. I'm happy for you, Pile 2!

PILE 3

Hello, Pile 3! I feel like your future spouse's friends will think of you as someone who's very competitive and likes to argue about anything. You're quite stubborn in their eyes and they don't want to be in a conflict with you ever. They know they'll never win against you and you'll defend yourself and stand on your stance at all times. You always find your way around things and despite their admiration for this trait of yours, they also get annoyed by it. It's quite too much for them because it reaches to the point that you upset or hurt them without realizing it, whether intentionally or unintentionally, though it's mostly the latter part. You're good at communicating but you reallh have the tendency to be stubborn. If something doesn't make sense to you, you want them to make it make sense. Otherwise, you'll set it aside and forget about it later. You have this trait that you want honesty and the truth all the time. You want justice for everything. If someone does you dirty, you'll make sure that they'll pay. And your future spouse's friends see and know that, which is why they do their best not to upset you in any way. They don't want to be in a conflict with you because you have the tendency to be in a conflict with people and this is something you're not scared of. Your future spouse's friends also see you as someone witty but at the same time, has the tendency to be impulsive most of the time. You tend to let your emotions lead and control you, not the other way around. Your future spouse's friends like you, but not on a deeper level.

It's feels so good to be back! I haven't done any readings for a while because I got reallyyyy busy. But anyway, I hope this reading helps! If you like it, feel free to check my paid readings.

[evanbi-ckley]

He feels like he’s being weighed down. Like he’s under water or a heavy blanket. His limbs are heavy, and he can’t get his eyes to open. There’s muffled sound nearby, but he can’t make out anything coherent. He’s also really warm. Uncomfortably so.

Is this what death is like? Is he in Hell? Or something Hell-adjacent? Were all the fire and brimstone idiots he refused to give the time of day actually right about something?

But then the heat is gone and there’s a cool breeze that skims across his skin.

Does he have skin? Do people feel their skin once they’re dead?

He’s still debating with himself as he gets pulled further under.

~***~

What is that annoying, repetitive sound? Did he change his alarm? Why the fuck can’t he turn it off?

~***~

It hurts.

Why does it hurt?

He can’t even tell what hurts, but something fucking hurts.

If he could just open his eyes and get up to take some ibuprofen.

Also his nose itches. Why can’t he fucking scra-

~***~

“Fucking bees.”

~***~

He’s warm again, but it’s not uncomfortable this time. 

He feels safe. And alive. 

He doesn’t feel as weighed down anymore.

It’s difficult, but he cracks his eyes open. He’s - in the hospital? That’s definitely a hospital ceiling and hospital lights and hospital machines beeping.

He turns his head to the left - slowly - and sees his arm is in a giant cast. That explains why he can’t lift it.

He turns his head to the right just as slowly. He’s surprised to see a head of curly hair lying next to his hip, a large hand in his own. 

When he flexes his hand, the curly head pops up immediately.

The man looks at him with bloodshot eyes that clearly haven’t seen sleep in days. He’s young - not alarmingly so but certainly younger than Tommy. The stubble on his jaw has gone far past 5 o’clock shadow and has entered the realm of beard, making him look slightly older. But who -?

“Tommy?” the man asks. His voice is low and raspy, possibly unused.

“Uh,” Tommy says. His own voice sounds even worse.

Without hesitation, the man turns - without letting go of Tommy’s hand - and pours a cup of water from the pitcher on the table next to the bed. Then he brings the cup up to Tommy’s mouth, a bendy straw pointing toward him.

Tommy drinks slowly, his mouth feeling like parchment that’s been left out in the sun too long. 

“Thanks,” he says.

The man sets the cup down and says, “Yeah, so um, h-how do you feel?”

He thinks for a bit, taking stock of himself.

“Sore. Numb in places. I assume they’ve got me on the good stuff?” The man nods, a cute smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “But there’s also the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen sitting next to me, holding my hand. So all told, I’m doing pretty well.”

The tips of the man’s ears turn pink, and a cute blush spreads across his cheeks. Adorable.

“You don’t have to flirt so hard, Tommy. You should know by now, I’m a sure thing.”

Ah, so -

“So we’re,” Tommy gestures vaguely with his head, “together?”

“Uh,” the man laughs uncertainly, “for about six months now, yeah.”

“Oh.” Tommy’s eyebrows shoot up. “But you’re so…” He trails off, not really knowing where he was going with that.

“So…what?” the man prods.

“Take your pick,” Tommy says. “Young? Pretty? Out of my league?”

“Sweetheart.” The man says it like they’ve had this discussion before, but he’s smiling. “Don’t try to amnesia your way out of being with me. I called dibs forever after our second date.”

Tommy smiles lazily. “Dibs forever, huh?”

“Yep. You’re stuck with me.”

Humming as if he’s considering the pros and cons, Tommy finally says, “I guess I can live with that.”

The man’s smile is blinding. “Evan,” he says. “Evan Buckley. In case you forgot.”

It comes back to him then - a cruise ship rescue in the middle of a hurricane, a basketball game, a kiss, a first date that ended terribly, more dates that ended perfectly, slow dancing in the kitchen, long nights together that ended too soon. A call during a bad storm, total engine failure, glass and fear and rain and acceptance and trees and blue eyes and a smile like warm sunshine.

“Evan,” Tommy says, pulling him closer. “Baby.” He kisses him softly. “I love you more than anything. How could I forget?”

Evan has tears in his eyes and leans their foreheads together when he says, “Don’t ever do that again. I thought I lost you.”

“I’m so sorry, baby. I thought so, too. I thought I’d never get to see you again. I’m so sorry.”

The next kiss is wet with tears - Evan’s or his own, it doesn’t matter. They’re here, and they’re both okay, and they’re together. That’s all that matters.

“I love you, too, by the way,” Evan says once they pull apart. “Can’t believe you waited to tell me until after you almost died, but I’ll take it.”

“I’ll say it every day until I actually die, okay?” he says. He gets a smack to his good shoulder for his effort, but they’re smiling too hard for it to have any weight.

There’s a long road ahead with recovery and therapy and stubbornness and frustration, but they’ve got this. They’ll get through it all. 

Together.

part 1

part 2

part 3

also now on ao3!

[unhinged-waterlilly]

Hello!

Something about @/demigod-jack-hearth

Something I wanna say about this post (with my reblog on it). I wanna give a side of a story. Mine to be exact.

They were one of the first people I talked to outside of rp. They were a close friend. But that fades.

I DONT WANT THEM TAGGED IN THIS I DONT WANT THEM TO KNOW ABOUT THIS. I HAVE THEM BLOCKED. IF THEY LEARN ABOUT THIS, IT IS BECAUSE SOMEONE SEND THIS TO THEM.

Tw: sa, strong language, I'm a little bitch, please please please read at your own risk

When start this by saying Jack worries me. I've seen so many post, rp or otherwise, where they bring up extremely triggering comments...just randomly. This has happened to me too. I don't get bothered by them I've been lucky enough to not deal with most and be comfortable with what I have dealt with. I think he needs professional help. Or to talk to someone that is an adult. This is difficult for some people. But there are free therapy websites out there. I have seen them. I have participated in them. The people on the other line aren't professionals but they are people willing to listen. And adults.

It started with when I saw an rp they had with camp Sky. I can't give screenshots of that but I do have some of confronting them.

Now all good right? Yeah! I thought so too. Untill an anon confronts em.

Posts here and here

Oh...kay? What's wrong about this?

Yeah...

Actively calling out anon

Now mind me I thought they had buried this au deep deep into the ground. Wasn't until I opened Circe's blog that I realised they didn't. I was pissed. I had every reason to be. We have so few stories of male victims as it is and this 'au' was blatantly disrespectful to victims of all genders. I felt really fucking disrespected that's for sure.

Unfortunately I don't confront them. But I do vent.

Now I feel bad for this. Maybe this was dirty laundry I shouldn't have aired out. But I was just so angry I couldn't think properly. I didn't mention Jack in this post, but friends figured it out. I won't say who these friends are for obvious reasons. Also, this is a bit wrong. They thought Odysseus cheated with only Circe, and Calyspo was SA. I got that wrong, and I admit it. I only remembered that when I scrolled up our dm to take a screenshot of it.

Now I wanted to leave that convo because I wasn't in the mood for arguing, and I've learned to give people what they want, which makes em and yourself stop. My fault again.

Things happen. It leads to the apology. Now, obviously, I can't tell if an apology is genuine through a screen, and I am most certainly a pessimist. So, like, I don't think it is. Also, I'm almost certain that most was written by whoever the friend was who 'helped' em.

Sure, people can change, but not enough times do they actually. Just look on the Internet. And real life. A person like Jack, well, they've talked to me enough to know it is most likely not the case. If they were so angry at a piece of good criticism, then I don't have much hope.

Am I an angry person ? Yes. Do I think I have the right to be? Yes. Am I also a logical person? I believe so. The people I've asked think so, too. I don't dislike something for no reason. But I do dislike things. What I do like is reasons for my dislikes. With me so far?

Good. Moving on.

After the apology and after I finally got my thoughts in order, I sent them a message because they tagged me. A lot.

This is what I sent. It's emotional, but in my opinion, it also makes sense. I was mad they lied to me. I was mad they twisted the story so. Fucking. Much. Odysseus isn't a rapist and Circe isn't an innocent flower. That is not what an AU is. What was their reaction to this? Nothing. To me at least.

A mutual friend told me they sent the last half of my messages and told them that they were angry I. Didn't. Thank. Them. For. The. Apology. Take that for what you will.

Now they made another post replying to the first anon who criticized them. I've read it. And when I tell you it is so fulled with self-pity-

I haven't collected my thoughts properly about this so this is bad and more emotion than the above. but this is the basic things behind it.

1) never directly addressing what he did and constantly tell em to read the apology. Don't wanna repeat yourself. How much time is it gonna take out of your day exactly?

2) not acknowledging the fact the male sa victim. At all. They don't say anything about it. No 'my condolences'. No 'I'm so sorry that happened to you' . Not acknowledging how terrible of a thing that is. At all.

3)says they aren't gonna defend themself... and defend themselves

4) have yet to tell us who these people are. Which is just bad cuz there are people out there who are okay with this. If they were IRL friends just say that.

5) it felt just fucking dull

Maybe this isn't right. Maybe you disagree with these points. But do not tell me you disagree with the rest.

I wanna end this by saying I am victim of SA. Did I tell him this? No. Maybe I should've. I don't feel comfortable sharing it. Because remembring fucking hurts. Remembering means crying and opening the lights and either sitting or laying down on my back because I can still. Fucking. Feel. It. And I was nine.

I don't want your pity on this. I don't want you to say sorry. The people you should be saying sorry to are the people who are not believed when this happens. Feel sorry for the people who cannot report this stuff because they don't trust the people who are supposed to protect them. Feel sorry for the people who think it was their fault and they actually wanted it when they didn't. 63% of rape are not reported in females. Only 12% of child rapes are reported.

I can't find a clear fucking statistics on males.

Do you know how difficult it is for males to have any representation at all? How many male victims do you see online? Even Odysseus being regonized as one is recent. Fucking. Stop. This is more than a made up story. It means the world to some people. So this actually happen. It might mean everything. This was taken away from them from so many retellings. And a stupid fucking au.

If you want to talk about SA, wanna make a character out of it, learn about it first.

So I'm not going to forgive and I am definitely not going to forget. You can. If you want. I don't care if you do. But I ask you not to forget. Please.

I am tagging Jack's taglist

@zariahthewitch @thegroovydaughterofhestia @if-chaos-was-a-boy @the-gods-strange-children @silena-daughterofaphrodite @fabulousdaughterofhecate @weakest-son-of-sun @chaos-pers0nified @neoptolemus-achilles-son @bast-the-best26 @goddess-of-bubblegum @hispanic-child-of-hermes @gaygirldoodles @luck-is-crucial @reyna4ever @vicious-daughter-of-zeus @feral-hermes-child @oopsies-i-did-a-thing @unfortunate-daughter-of-hestia @that-girl-cupid @ariathemortal @love-lightning-forethought @emdabitchass @kaiaalwayswins @champion-of-revenge @zoe-aura-of-d3ath @itsyourboyezra @lunar-eklipso-r @pink-koi-lovejoy @that-daughter-of-athena @sleepy-as-a-song @smileyalater @gellyhelio @daughter-ofthe-moontitan @demeters-daughter-is-done @the-smart-and-the-dumb-one @trinket-snatcher @creature-under-ur-bed @burnt-out-bitxhes @cloak-of-ares @heraaaaaaaa @unproblematic-hestia @i-was-never-sane

[ssentimentals]

seventeen members as love tropes: xu minghao

enemies to lovers

'you're not mine but wouldn't you want to be?'

minghao tries is hardest to stay calm but all these higher ups are making it really hard. he turns to look at you and the sight of your hunched back and bitten raw lips makes him boil. are you two friends? no, far from it. minghao is very aware of the whole 'enemies' agenda that is happening between you both, but does he want to see you like this? nervous, agitated, scared? no. fucking hell, no. he wants to see you burning with passion, wants to see that fire in your eyes whenever you two argue - minghao feels like he's been punched in the chest when he realizes that he's ready to kill just for you to not look this scared.

'can we wrap this up?' he voices out loud, not bothering to hide his annoyance. 'i don't see any point in this.'

'it'd be wise for you to be more polite and remember who you are talking to, xu minghao.'

he sees how you cringe at this, how your hands ball up into fists at the way that man spoke to him. understanding that you are angered on his behalf warms minghao up; it feels incredibly nice to know that you care. he keeps his mouth shut, lets managers drag on about the issue and takes two step in your direction, stopping when your shoulders brush. you tense up at first, sending him a questioning glance but he only stays put to which you reply with a rejected sigh. they lecture him and then start lecturing you and minghao can't just stand still when you're obviously fuming. they are being rude to you and the words are out of his mouth before he can think them through: 'don't talk to her like that.' your sharp intake of breath kind of wakes him up and he stares ahead at all the managers, who all look shell shocked.

'you have no right to talk to her like that.' minghao pushes in a clipped tone. 'she did her best and so did i, our timing got fucked up but it's not our fault. don't speak to her in that tone.'

shortly after you get pulled away by other people and minghao is in for another 30 minutes of lecturing. by the time he finally gets out of that stuffy room, he feels like he wasted ten years of his life on nothing. he sighs, stretches and is about to turn when soft steps stop him. he knows it's you even before you call out his name.

'why did you do that?' you ask, squinting at him. 'why the sudden hero act?'

'it wasn't an act,' he says, rolling his eyes. god, he's so tired. 'but you're welcome.'

'i haven't asked for it,' you spit out, obviously angered. 'i don't need your pity.'

minghao turns around, raising his eyebrow. 'i have never pitied you,' he says strongly, feeling himself getting worked up again as some stupid side effect on you being close. 'can't you just say 'thank you' and move on?'

'i don't need your help!' you hiss. 'i haven't asked for it!'

and - only you can make minghao want to both bang his head on the wall from frustration and laugh like a maniac. he sometimes wants to step closer, pull you into his arms and... he doesn't know. part of him wants to strangle you for being so damn difficult all the fucking time, but another part wants to smash your mouths together so you can finally shut up. minghao is aware of how unhealthy it is just as he is aware of how often your gaze falls on his lips or his biceps. it's good to know he's not the only one who's gone mad. they say it's a fine line between hatred and love and for minghao right now this line is so thin that he barely see it anymore. is it the same for you? he wants to ask, but instead he says: 'why you didn't stop me then? you always could just interrupt me over there but you didn't say a thing. if you don't need my help why i was the one who you turned to when authorities came? you didn't say anything but you searched for me with your eyes, don't even try to deny it.'

five steps. that's the distance that separates you two and minghao thinks it's fitting. he can take two and then you can take two and then maybe you'll play game of chicken on that last step. but you surprise him with taking all those five steps yourself, storming onto him with fire in your eyes that he loves so much. 'you're not the one to talk, minghao. you think i don't know that it was you who asked everyone to wait up for me? who brought medicine to my team when i fell sick?' you try to push him on his chest but minghao easily catches you wrist in his, not letting you move. 'let me go.'

'that's not what you want.' he says in a calm tone that doesn't show all the hurricane which's happening inside of him.

reality of how close you two are standing dawns on you. jerkily, you try to step back but his hold on you is too strong. 'let me go,' you whisper, voice wavering. 'hao, let me go.'

hao. 'that's not what you want,' minghao whispers and lets his other hand wrap around your waist, pulling you even closer to his chest. 'tell me what you really want, angel.' he sees how you shudder at the petname and smiles, leaning in. he lets go of your wrist, locking his arms around you instead. 'you can go if you want.' he leans in, brushing your noses together. 'or you can stay. and i can never, ever let you go. which i think is what you actually want.'

it's brave. it's bold, it's brazen and - it works. your body sags in his arms and you hide your face in his neck, hugging him back. 'prick,' you mutter into his neck, raising goosebumps where your lips touch his skin. 'self absorbed asshole.'

'yeah,' minghao easily agrees, hugging you tighter. 'prick, self absorbed asshole that i will never, ever let you go.'

a/n: this one is a bit vague but i couldn't figure out how to write this for the live of me. i hope this was okay? let me know! - nini

my seventeen works are here

my formula 1 works are here

[sorrowsofsilence]

If you take asks/requests can you do something with reader refusing any type of help or assistance in anything but she's so used to everything being thrown in her face or used against her so now she is just super hyper independent. She meets Noah and for a long time he doesn't understand why she never lets anyone help her until she opens up and quietly tells him that she can't trust people to not use the help they gave her against her eventually.

Super self indulgent here 🥺😟

if im here • n.s

pairing: noah sebastian x fem!reader

words: 2k

warnings: none

note: thank you so much for this anon. this is so relatable, and writing this felt so... therapeutic? i hope you enjoy this xx

THIS IS A FANFIC ABOUT REAL PEOPLE IN FICTIONAL SCENARIOS. I AM NOT IMPLYING THIS IS HOW THESE PEOPLE ARE IRL OR THAT THIS SITUATION WOULD HAPPEN. IT IS FOR FANFIC PURPOSES ONLY!

+

At first, Noah merely noticed it as a quirk; an oddity of hers that was borderline admirable. Any time he offered to help her carry anything, she would politely, but firmly decline. Once, when she was struggling with a stubborn jar of pasta sauce, he'd tried to help, only to have her snatch the glass away with a fierce glint in her eyes.

It was clear that she didn't need or want his assistance.

Even in times that seemed dire, she refused him. The time her tire popped and she struggled to fit it back onto the rims, and the time the bowl from the top shelf fell against the floor, smashing into pieces and cutting her hand.

He always assumed it was pride or a stubborn sense of independence. But over time, he realized there was something deeper lurking beneath the surface; a sort of wariness, a guardedness that was difficult to penetrate.

One evening, after they'd grown closer, they were sitting on Noah’s living room floor amidst several takeout boxes from the local chinese place. She was battling with a particularly tricky fortune cookie wrapper when Noah instinctively reached out to help.

"No," she said quietly, pulling her hand back as if his touch burned. Something in her eyes flickered, a strange mix of defiance and vulnerability that made Noah pause.

He sat there, watching with a defeated brow as he placed the chopsticks in his box of chow mein, shoulders slumped.

“Y/N…” Noah whispered, his eyes saddened as she struggled, throwing her head back in a frustrated growl.

“Why won’t you just let me help you? Ever?”

She sighed, placing the untouched cookie on the coffee table. Her hands folded in her lap, shoulders hunched as if bracing against an invisible force.

For a long moment, she was silent, refusing to glance at Noah as he waited, knowing better than to press.

"I can't trust people," she admitted, not meeting his gaze, "I can't trust them not to use the help they gave me, against me eventually."

Noah was silent, processing her words. His heart twisted at the bare honesty of her confession, the raw pain that lurked behind her fierce independence. He realized this wasn’t about jars or boxes; this was about survival, about safeguarding herself from the world around her that had done her wrong, time and time again.

"No one should ever use kindness as a weapon," he said softly, respecting her space but wanting her to know he was there, "And I promise you, I won't. Not now, not ever."

She looked up at him then, her eyes clouded with a wariness that made him want to reach out and reassure her. But he knew better now, knew that the last thing she needed was empty reassurances or hollow promises.

Instead, he simply held her gaze, letting his words hang between them as his promise to her. He wanted to show her that he was different and that not everyone would use their kindness against her.

She held his onyx gaze for a long moment before finally looking away. Her shoulders relaxed slightly, but there was still a guardedness about her. It was clear that it would take more than just words to convince her.

But Noah was patient; he knew that trust wasn’t built in a day.

It was something that had to be earned and nurtured, piece by piece. He might not have been able to erase the past or change the people who had hurt her before, but he could certainly try to be different, and show her she deserved to be cared for.

Over the next few weeks and months, Noah did his best to show her he was a man of his word.

He never imposed, never assumed. Each time a situation arose where she seemed in need of help, he waited, letting her make the first move.

Bit by bit, they began to navigate around this invisible barrier - a silent dance of respect and understanding. When she stubbed her toe and cursed under her breath, Noah remained silent, only moving when she held out her hand for assistance. When her car broke down one icy winter evening, instead of rushing over as he instinctively wanted to do, he waited for her call.

It was a slow process, one filled with silent understanding and unspoken words. But with each day that passed, Noah could see the progression. There were moments when she would hesitate just before refusing his help; moments that filled him with hope and reassurance that he was doing the right thing.

One day when an unexpected rainstorm caught them off guard on their way back from a late-night movie, he held out his coat as they stepped out of the theatre. He prepared himself for her usual refusal, the quick shake of her head and the pulled-down brim of her hat as she braved the elements herself.

But it didn’t come.

Instead, she looked at his proffered jacket for a moment before finally nodding, tugging it around her shoulders with a shy smile.

His heart leapt in response.

It was a small victory, but for Noah, it felt monumental. It was the first time she had willingly accepted his assistance without that familiar flicker of fear in her eyes. The rain sliced through the night, drenching them despite the coat, but neither cared.

One small step towards trust. One small step towards un-guilted help.

“Thank you,” She whispered, smiling up at him. Noah wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into a comforting hug as they headed to their apartment.

“I would do anything for you,” He said, placing a kiss in her hair.

Her shivering body vibrated against his, her hands clinging to his dampened shirt for support.

In the silence of the rain-soaked streets, under the flickering street lamps, she believed him.

Not because she wanted to, but because he had proven it - time and again - through his patience, his understanding. He had seen her fears and her scars and had not flinched away, but stood firmly by her side, always waiting for her to reach out first.

"Noah," she murmured, as they unlocked the door of their shared apartment, her damp hair sticking to his face. "You're different."

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement, an acknowledgement of what they both already knew. He smiled into her hair, warmth spreading through him despite the cold rain dripping from their clothes onto the hallway floor.

"I hope so," he murmured back, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead before stepping back, giving her space once again as they moved inside.

She smiled at him then, one that reached to her eyes.

It was a rare sight and Noah cherished it because he knew how much courage it took for her.

That exchange marked a turning point in their relationship. His promise uttered in the heart of the storm, wasn't just an empty phrase spoken to comfort her.

It was a vow that he intended to keep, not just for that night but for every night thereafter.

In the following days, she became more comfortable in accepting his aid. She even let him help her carry groceries to their apartment, a task she'd always insisted on doing herself before- all ten bags looped up either arm.

But that day, he was allowed to carry five.

There was still that flicker of unease every now and then, a shadow that crossed her eyes whenever he offered his help; however, those moments were becoming less frequent with time.

Noah proved himself to be a man of his word. He stood by her side, not as a knight trying to save a damsel in distress, but as a constant companion who honored her strength and respected her space.

Their souls danced around each other in the ever-evolving rhythm of their companionship - sometimes colliding, sometimes distancing, yet always spinning in synchrony.

One cool spring afternoon, they went to a local park and found a solitary bench that overlooked a still lake. The water mirrored the sky, capturing its changing moods from cool blue to fiery orange as the sun began to set.

They sat there in a comforting quiet for a long moment, lost in their own thoughts.

Noah opened his mouth to say something but stopped himself just in time. He respected her need for space - physical and emotional both. His gaze fell on her profile - her eyes closed and tilted towards the setting sun, her lips slightly parted as she breathed in the crisp air.

"Is your mind always this quiet?" she asked after a while, turning to meet his gaze. He noted how her eyes held a certain softness now, a less guarded curiosity, “Or this patient?”

"No," he confessed with a soft chuckle. "I’ve had to learn patience over time."

"Because of me?" she asked, her voice low.

He turned to face her, taking a moment to really look at her. The setting sun reflected in her eyes, giving them an ethereal glow.

He admired her- every part of her. The good, the bad. Everything.

"Partly," he admitted, "But also because of myself. I've realised that sometimes the best way to help someone isn't by charging in like a hero. It's by waiting…giving them the space they need to heal."

His words stretched between them as she processed, her gaze never leaving his. Noah noticed a hint of something different in her eyes; not fear or apprehension, but something akin to gratitude.

“Thank you,” she said softly, echoing the words she’d whispered weeks before in the rain.

"I'm trying, Noah," she said quietly, "I'm trying to trust again."

He nodded, understanding all too well what that meant for her. It was a leap of faith - an act of trust that was foreign and strenuous to her very being.

"I know," he replied softly.

His thumb brushed over the back of her hand gently, a small comfort against the enormity of what she had just shared, “And you’re doing an amazing job.”

She smiled, looking down at their entwined fingers.

“I’m proud of you,” Noah breathed.

Her heart raced with armour as they sat there, their hands linked while the sun slowly disappeared beneath the horizon. The world around them was bathed in a tranquil glow, almost as if it was recognizing the sacredness of their moment.

Noah squeezed her hand gently, his chest full of emotions he couldn't quite put into words.

He took a deep breath, his gaze still locked onto the surreal sunset before them. This woman sitting next to him, she was strong. She had been through so much, but instead of hardening her heart, she still allowed herself to be vulnerable, for him. Of all people, him.

Her voice brought him out of his thoughts, "I think I'm ready."

Noah turned to look at her, surprised by her sudden declaration. She looked back at him, determination shining bright in her eyes.

"To rely on someone," she clarified, trailing a finger along the flower on the back of his hand, "To trust again... with you."

There was no hesitation in her voice, just a raw honesty that pierced through the quiet evening.

Noah felt his heart surge with a myriad of emotions: hope, joy, relief; but above all, there was a sense of honor.

"Are you sure?" he asked gently, not wanting to rush her.

He knew the gravity of what she was saying, the importance of this moment.

But she simply nodded, meeting his gaze with an unwavering certainty.

"Yes," she whispered. "I think I am."

Her simple affirmation held so much weight. It was her declaration of surrender, but also a confirmation of faith in him.

And that meant more to Noah than any grand gestures or professions could ever do.

He leaned over, closing the distance between them and pressed his forehead against hers. Their breaths mingled in the cool dusk air, creating an intimate bubble around them while the rest of the world faded into insignificance.

"I'll be here for you, whenever you need.”

tags:

@xxkittenkissesxx @deathblacksmoke @nyxisnotok @anameunmusical @sitkowski

@sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @th4t-em0-k1d @dsireland86 @thefallennightmare

@whenthesummerdies @spicywhenspeaking @veronicaphoenix @lma1986 @calleyx13

@somewhere-diamond @auratheopossumwitch @blackveilomens @skulliecadaver-blog @silentglassbreak

@darkmxgician @sprokat @thatchickwiththecamera @reyadawn @xserenax-13

@philomenie @into-the-grey @amelia-acero @blend-in-with-the-madness @rumoured-whispers

@anything-more-than-human @blacksoul-2 @sweetwombatpizza

[rafedarling]

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮

pairing: dad!drew starkey x mom!reader

summary: after years together, you and drew have taken a step back to reassess your relationship while co-parenting your two-year-old daughter. It was drew’s suggestion to take time apart—a difficult decision he made in the hopes of gaining clarity. at first, you were fine with it, even convinced it was the right move. but as days turned into months, whispers of drew’s involvement with another woman start to surface, turning your emotional separation into something far more painful. torn between love, fear, and pride, you give him an ultimatum; either he returns home, or this separation becomes permanent. as both of you face hard truths, the love that you share may be the one thing that holds everything together.

warning(s): mentions of co-parenting struggles and relationship separation, emotional conflict and internal turmoil, angst with a hopeful resolution, soft cursing, miscommunication.

au’s: like, reblog and feedbacks are much appreciated. taglist | tagging: @rafeyslamb @tracymbcm @enjoymyloves @akobx @rubixgsworld @xoxohoneymoongirl @mileyraes @maybankslover @noobmazter69 @littlelamy @wearemadeofstardust0 @xoxosblogsblog @saviorcomplexrry @bisexualcvnt @stuffyownswrld @anamiad00msday

You’re sitting on the couch, absently scrolling through your phone, but your mind is elsewhere. Your thoughts keep circling back to the one person you’ve been avoiding thinking too much about—Drew.

It’s was Drew idea that he wanted to separate for “awhile”. You didn’t fight it at first, even if the request had left you reeling. He needed space, time away from the constant strain of co-parenting and the pressures of work, and you told yourself you could handle it. After all, you needed the space, too. The nights of quiet arguments about whose turn it was to change a diaper, the unspoken resentment that built up over Drew’s erratic work schedule, and the loss of who you were as a couple had driven a wedge between you that neither of you seemed to know how to fix. The idea of stepping back, of giving yourselves room to breathe, felt like a reasonable step. Logical, even.

But no amount of logic could prepare you for the growing ache that came with his absence.

At first, the space had been a relief, allowing you to able to reset and focus on yourself. But then the days grew longer, lonelier. Drew still came by to pick up your daughter for the weekend, still texted you updates and occasionally asked about how you were doing. But those exchanges felt hollow, void of the warmth that had once been a constant between you. He was physically present for your daughter, but emotionally, he felt miles away.

And now… the rumors. You hadn’t wanted to believe them when you first heard them. Drew had been spotted with another woman—a few times, your friend casually mentioned. You laughed it off at first, chalking it up to idle gossip, something blown out of proportion by the public eye. After all, Drew was a rising star. People always had something to say. You trusted him—or, at least, you used to.

But the second time it was brought up, you couldn’t shake it. The image of Drew with someone else—a faceless, nameless person—wormed its way into your brain, clawing at your trust, your hope. He had asked for space, and you gave it to him, but you never imagined this space would mean he could be with someone else.

The sound of your daughter’s giggles pulls you out of your thoughts. She’s looking up at you, her bright eyes—Drew’s eyes—sparkling with joy as she holds up one of her blocks.

“Look, Mama! Big tower!” she exclaims, her tiny hands clapping together in excitement.

You force a smile, the knot in your stomach tightening. You don’t want her to see your sadness, don’t want her to feel the weight of the tension between you and Drew. She’s too young to understand, too innocent to be burdened with the complexities of adult problems.

“Wow, that’s amazing, baby,” you say, leaning down to kiss the top of her curly head. But even as you speak, your thoughts are elsewhere—back to Drew, back to the uncertainty that has been eating at you.

You can’t take it anymore. You grab your phone off the couch and head into the kitchen, needing some distance from your daughter so she doesn’t pick up on your growing frustration.

With shaking hands, you scroll through your contacts, finding Drew’s name. You hesitate for a moment, thumb hovering over the call button. Part of you doesn’t want to do this, doesn’t want to open up a wound that might not heal. But you can’t go on like this—not knowing, not feeling like you’re caught in some sort of limbo while your life hangs in the balance.

The phone rings, and each second feels like an eternity. When Drew finally picks up, his voice is familiar, warm even, but that doesn’t soothe the ache in your chest.

“Hey,” he greets, his tone light. “Everything okay?”

You swallow hard. “We need to talk.”

The casual ease in his voice disappears, replaced by a quiet tension. “What’s going on?”

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself. You’ve replayed this conversation in your head a thousand times, and yet the words feel heavy on your tongue, almost impossible to speak.

“I heard something today,” you start slowly, your voice trembling. “About you. About that girl.”

There’s a long pause, and you can hear him sigh on the other end. When he finally speaks, his voice is tight, wary. “What are you talking about, Y/N?”

“I heard that you’ve been spending time with someone,” you continue, trying to keep your voice steady but failing miserably. “Is it true?”

The silence that follows is suffocating, and your heart races, each second stretching painfully.

“Look, it’s not what you think,” Drew finally says, but his answer feels like a half-truth. It’s not enough.

“Then tell me what it is,” you press, your frustration mounting. “Because I’ve been sitting here, waiting, trying to make sense of this. You asked for space, Drew, and I gave it to you. But if you’re moving on… if there’s someone else…”

You can’t finish the sentence, the words too painful to say out loud. The thought of him with another woman, of your daughter being caught between you, is too much to bear.

“I’m not moving on,” Drew says firmly, but there’s something in his voice—a hesitance, a guilt—that makes you doubt him. “Yes, I’ve been spending time with someone, but it’s not what you think. She’s a friend, and that’s all. I swear.”

“A friend?” You can’t hide the bitterness in your voice. “Drew, people are talking. I’m hearing rumors, and it’s killing me. Do you know how hard it’s been to sit here, alone, while you’re out there with someone else?”

“I didn’t know,” he says softly. “I didn’t think—”

“Exactly,” you cut him off, your voice rising with anger now. “You didn’t think. You asked for space, but I didn’t think that meant you’d be out there with other women while I’m here raising our daughter.”

His sigh is heavy, remorseful. “I’m sorry. I should have been more honest with you. I didn’t want to make things harder for you, and I didn’t think you’d hear about it. But I see now that I messed up. I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”

You shake your head, tears slipping down your cheeks. “Well, you did. And I can’t keep doing this. I can’t sit here wondering if you’re going to come back, or if you’ve already moved on. I need to know where we stand, Drew.”

His silence on the other end is deafening, and for a moment, you think maybe this is it—maybe this is how it all ends.

“I don’t want a divorce,” Drew finally says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want this to be over, I want to come home, back to you and our daughter”

Your breath hitches, and you wipe at your eyes, trying to steady yourself. “Then come home.”

There’s another pause, and you can almost hear the gears turning in his mind as he considers your words. “I will. I’ll come home. I want to fix all the messed that I’ve made… for you”

A weight lifts off your chest, though the road ahead still feels uncertain. But for the first time in months, you feel a flicker of hope. It’s fragile, but it’s there.

“I’m not going anywhere this time, not now, not ever” he promises, his voice stronger now. “We’ll figure this out together.”

“Me and our baby girl will wait for you to come back home, Drew.”

As you hang up, you realize that while the wounds may not heal overnight, this is a step in the right direction. Drew is coming home, and for now, that’s enough.

[dukeofdelirium]

never gonna understand the argument that Katara didn’t love Aang or something.

Katara was 100% more physically affectionate toward Aang. She almost always initiated their physical contact.

She also expresses clear jealousy over him as early as ep4 at Kyoshi Island lol. Aang was literally right when he said “you know what I think? I think you don’t wanna come because you’re jealous” 😂 SHE WAS

Katara was hesitant to start a romantic relationship with Aang because of the war, not because she lacked romantic interest in him. I mean, she quite literally says this on screen.

This is another thing that confuses tf out of me. How can anyone actually watch that scene in Ember Island Players and think it translates to “Katara doesn’t like Aang and is gently rejecting him” ?????

Katara 1) denies viewing Aang platonically and 2) straight up says her reasoning for not pursuing a romantic relationship with him after they kissed during the invasion is because the war is still going on and 3) she then continues by saying she is confused about WHEN they can be together if ever.

Both of these characters expected the war to already BE over. That was why Aang kissed her at the invasion, at least partly. Also partly because, yknow, he could’ve died and never gotten the chance. Which also brings up another thing, the argument that she rejected him kissing her then?

This isn’t true. Katara very much did kiss him back. But once it was over, and once he was going to leave her and face what could’ve easily been certain death, she looks upset. Not really difficult to understand why she looks that way, considering Aang did just tell her “what if I don’t come back” right before said kiss. Katara has already witnessed him die right before her eyes. This is a difficult topic in their relationship. And that fear of losing Aang continues to keep her away from their romantic relationship until she finally feels safe to express it at the end of the show.

Aang’s actions are also not difficult to understand at all. He confronted Katara during that play after she sought him out. He never asked her to follow him. And the only reason he confronted her was bc he was feeling 1) super insecure bc of the play’s depiction of everyone in their group and 2) bc he’s about to face the world’s greatest military force and their leader on the anniversary of his entire people and culture’s genocide completely ALONE and could very easily be killed.

Aang shouldn’t have kissed her at the play. No one says he should’ve and he reprimands himself afterwards. With that being said, though, it’s totally understandable as to why he does kiss her, that being that he’s afraid he is going to die again and he wants to express that he loves her before it happens. Also, the fact that Aang wasn’t there for his own people is surely a driving factor in how he expresses love to others afterwards, that being that he feels the need to “be there” so to speak. And “being there” in this moment is showing Katara that he does love her, and the only way he rlly knows how to is to kiss her bc words did not work.

Like… idc if ppl like the writing or not. Acting like it’s some huge mystery or impossible to comprehend is you essentially saying you’re dumber than the 6 year olds that watched ATLA 😭 like how could I at 11 completely understand this whole thing yet these grown ass adult women can’t wrap their minds around it for even a second? Like it’s actually sad lol

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hey sex witch!

What advice would you give for someone who is interested in trying penetrative sex one day, but utterly terrified at the prospect of any chance, no matter how small, of becoming pregnant?

It’s a genuine phobia for me, and a big part of why I considered myself sex-repulsed as an asexual for a while, when I was really closer to neutral but was too terrified to try anything. Logically, I know things like condoms are fairly reliable, but there’s still that chance, you know?

hi anon,

in addition to condoms I'd definitely recommend looking into your options for hormonal birth control. IUDs have a failure rate of a little under 1%, which can be decreased even further by using them with another form of contraception like external or internal condoms (which go on the penis or inside of the vaginal cavity respectively; both are effective but Do Not use them together). it may also help your peace of mind to have some emergency contraceptive like Plan B on hand (when stored properly, it's shelf stable for up to four years!) or even make sure you have an actionable plan + emergency funds set aside for the worst case scenario of an unwanted pregnancy, whether it's an in-clinic abortion or a self-managed abortion at home. it can be scary to think about, but learning about your options and knowing that you have a plan in place + the ability to carry it out if the worst comes to pass can help make the risk much less daunting.

if you want to get really heavy duty with it you may want to look into the option of being medically sterilized. there are a number of options for people with vaginal reproductive systems, including bilateral salpingectomy, tubal litigation, or having the ovaries and/or uterus fully removed. it's expensive and can be difficult at times to find surgeons willing to perform these procedures on people who are still of reproductive age, but if you're set on it and able to afford it then it seems like a reasonable option to pursue for your satisfaction and peace of mind.

there are also plenty of ways of having penetrative sex that don't carry any risk of pregnancy, if those speak to you: toys and fingers can penetrate just as well as a penis, and there's always anal.

[maoam]

Naruto most likely sees how the world around him works, and it affects his behaviour, especially since he craves for acceptance.

Notice the difference in his reaction when another guy says he likes him in part 1 vs part 2.

(Sorry for a bit poor quality, it was difficult to find an accurate translation, most were viz translations which didn't convey this convo very well). In part 1 he's just annoyed, because he doesn't like Kankurou as a person. He didn't even think about that "I like you" could have certain other implications. But in part 2 he's straight up creeped out by Kakashi saying the same thing, eventhough the meaning and intention is the same in both.

Naruto's reaction to Kurama mentioning his kiss with Sasuke was also way too over the top. Like really comical. Naruto was putting on a show in front of everyone. But whenever he's with Sasuke, he forgets all about this, he is fine with waxing poetry to Sasuke, or Sasuke being close to him...

My guess is since he went through puberty he also learned things about himself and thus started to become more sensitive to such things. Thus internalized homophobia.

Take this scene for example. He seems a bit uncomfortable being there. Sai was probably made to be like this (inappropriate, talking about p*nis all the time, being compared to Sasuke, challenging Naruto about his fixation on Sasuke) so Kishi could introduce more such themes into the manga. He's rather clever about this.

Another guess (it could be both combined) would be that since Jiraiya is so aggressively straight man (to the point he has to introduce himself by saying he's not into men lol) living with him for those years during the timeskip could have affected Naruto's mindset even more. But it's funny how Kishi keeps stressing over and over how Naruto finds Jiraiya's er*tic books boring. Also unlike Jiraiya who peeps on women for p*rverted reasons, Naruto does it as a prank, and in order to practice his oiroke no jutsu. Kishi is trying to show how they are different. I remember on one discussion forum one guy actually brought up he noticed Naruto's changed behaviour after he came back with Jiraiya! Like that he was even more gay and more sensitive to gay things. See, other people notice too.

Then he calls Konohamaru's boy-on-boy jutsu "nasty". Naturally, it's a shonen, Naruto can't have a comically interested reaction like Sakura to something like that, it wouldn't fly. Thus the internalized homophobia. But I also think he didn't want to see Sasuke who he's possessive over being with Sai like that lol. And Naruto really isn't one to talk considering what he came up with later.

Look how proud he looks. Little hypocrite. He's been working on those twink bods more than rasengan lol. Kishi wasn't very subtle with that comment. Also Kishi fought for this moment with his editors for YEARS because he just really needed to write this down. It was just that important to him...

Of course Naruto's repression comes up when it comes to Sasuke as well. Here he admits Sasuke is attractive, but then immediately backpedals on it. His real feelings just slipped.

Later, he was thinking about Sasuke, his mind consumed by Sasuke, but when Sakura and Sai appear his whole body language changes and he immediately claims he was thinking about a date with Sakura. He didn't want to be vulnerable nor let anyone know about his real feelings at the moment. He is hiding behind a heterosexual facade.

But sometimes Naruto doesn't even think of backpedaling on it. He is with his supposed "crush" yet unlike anyone else who would try to get closer or maybe flirt, he is just thinking about Sasuke. This is actually a moment that made many people raise their eyebrows. Including people who didn't like narusasu, or people who didn't ship anything. Specifically because it's written like a clickbait, as in Naruto says "he is happy" and Sakura going "huh?" and because she's his supposed crush who is taking care of him as I said most readers would expect next page have Naruto say something that would emphasize his crush on Sakura. But no, he goes on about Sasuke. No matter how much ss/nh insist we see gay everywhere, many other people picked up on Kishi's writing at many points during the story. But anyway, even with the internalized homophobia, Naruto's love for Sasuke is so strong he can say crazy things about Sasuke to other people and to Sasuke himself that things like "I'm starting to like you" (a completely average thing to say to another person) can't compare to, and still be unbothered by it.

Finally there is the interaction with Minato. Naruto wants to look good in front of his dad so he hesitantly agrees Sakura is his girlfriend, despite how in the previous arc we were shown that Naruto knew Sakura still likes Sasuke, and was angry at her when she tried to confess to him. So he is obviously not serious about Sakura being his girlfriend, but he is saying it to Minato hesitantly. Yet when his dad is leaving he doesn't want to lie anymore.... but he's also hesitant about admitting he hasn't found a girl like his mom wanted.

About the last part, I think it's referring to the armadillo scene? I think it was Kishi's typical humour, like how Naruto saw Haku in makeup and feminine clothing, and assumed Haku was a girl, but then was told Haku is a boy and went "oh okay, I didn't know that kind of thing existed". Here there was instead an armadillo that somehow looked like it was wearing makeup (??? idek or at least looked feminine) and since Naruto needed to write down whether the animals were boys or girls (a ridiculous cover up mission they made up to hide the war was going on from Naruto lol) but then it was flipped over with everyone else and Naruto saw its p*nis and went "even if heaven and earth switched places, a male is still a male". I guess Kishi likes this kind of thing lol... his d*ck jokes...

I know it says "the world might flip over" here but I know it's actually that proverb "even if heaven and earth switched places" that's often used in Japanese.

EDIT: this got flagggged by tumblr so I had to edit sus words.

[leclerc-s]

track two: i wanna taste his lips, yeah, 'cause they taste like you

series masterlist

JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY

"got a pretty face, a pretty boyfriend too, i wanna be with you so bad."

MID 2020

charles leclerc did not get jealous. he had nothing and no one to be jealous of,  besides, it's not like he had anything to be jealous of. he was charles freaking leclerc, there was no reason for him to be feeling the way he was, so why the fuck was he feeling complete and utter jealousy towards oscar piastri? oscar didn't have anything charles could want. charles was the one who was the formula 1 driver, he's the one who was an f1 grand prix winner, he's the one who drove for one of the most historic f1 teams, he was the one people called the predestined. 

oscar piastri absolutely didn’t have anything charles could possibly want, except for her. the one thing oscar had that charles wanted, he couldn’t possibly have. the only thing he could do was watch from the sidelines as she cheered him on and raced alongside him. actually charles wasn’t even sure if they were dating but it seemed like they were. why else would they be as close as they were, if they weren’t dating? people just weren’t that close, maybe that’s why people tended to think he was dating pierre.

“stare any harder and people will be convinced you hate him,” sebastian teased. charles turned to glare at his older teammate, “i do not hate him.”

sebastian laughed, “you could have fooled me. or maybe, it’s her you hate.”

“i don’t hate them!” charles shouted, several people turned to look at them, including inés and oscar. charles blushed before turning around to walk away, “i hate you,” he muttered to sebastian, “i’m glad you’re leaving.”

sebastian laughed again, “no, you’re not. who would argue with mattia for your sake?”

“it is very entertaining.”

“enjoy having her brother around next year."

"max warned me about them," charles whispered to the older man. talking badly about a drivers family seemed like taboo to charles. he didn’t even know carlos or his family and yet here he was, gossiping with sebastian about the.

sebastian sighed, "they are difficult, that entire family is. maybe you'll be the one fighting mattia next season."

charles huffed, not satisfied with sebastian’s answer, "but why are they so difficult?"

"sainz. sr is not used to coming second, to anyone," sebastian paused, "it was known between several of the drivers years ago, when max and carlos were toro rosso drivers, that their fathers didn't get along, hell even the media caught on at some point. sainz sr and jos hated each other, rumored it almost came to blows several times. so when max got promoted to red bull mid-season, sainz sr. lost it. carlos was put on a loan to renault, his contract didn't get renewed so he moved to mclaren. i don't think any of his children are used to coming second, especially not with a father like him. everyone talks about the difficulties max faced with jos as his father but i imagine sainz sr was just like him with carlos.”

“but what about inés?” charles question. sebastian sighed, a frown on his face, “a daughter being a racer is not what sainz sr wanted. he wanted her to focus on her studies, carlos was supposed be the one to carry on the family name in motorsports, not her, never her. every time he’s almost given up on her career, inés has proved him wrong. vice champion in two consecutive series, that’s no small feat for a woman. it’s- huge for her, it also helps that she has fernando in her corner backing her.”

"inés seems to be content with being second to piastri," charles pointed out, referring to sebastian’s earlier statement.

"she is a girl in a male dominated sport. if she comes in first or second, she still breaks records. she's not coming second to anyone charles."

"you're wrong," charles muttered, "she comes second to carlos."

sebastian sighed, "trust me, i know," sebastian paused, choosing his next words carefully, "just, be careful next year charles. you don't want to make an enemy of the sainz family."

charles rolled his eyes, "i'll be a good kid, i promise."

"charles, this is serious," sebastian argued, "the sainz family is not someone you want to cross, ever."

charles stilled for a moment, processing sebastian's words, "okay, i swear."

sebastian moved to walk away and charles stood there for a moment, trying to convince himself that maybe, just maybe he didn’t have a weird infatuation with inés. because the way he say the situation, it was weird, he was 5 years older than her, they had first met when she was a kid. granted they only ever held a few conversations, with inés taking a liking to his younger brother more than him. it made sense though, arthur was the one racing in the same series as her, he was the one closer to her in age. charles jumped when her heard someone snickering, he turned and came face to face with fernando alonso, f1’s resident menace.

noticing his startled expression fernando looked at him, and charles was not ready for what was about to come out of his mouth, "eres un idiota."

now charles didn't speak spanish but he sure as hell knew fernando had just called him an idiot. charles was not an idiot, most of the time. so why the hell had he just stared at fernando and only muttered a "what?" and looked like a complete idiot?

"i said, you are an idiot, she is too, and him."

"him?" charles questioned, "who's him?"

fernando chuckled, "use that brain of your leclerc. as checo says, te lo dejo de tarea."

"what does that mean?" charles asked as fernando turned to leave. fernando shrugged as he left, leaving charles just standing there confused. before charles could follow after him he was met with the sight of carlos, the spaniard smiled at him and charles returned it. he looked around trying to spot the older spaniard but couldn’t find him anywhere, charles would have to later ask him how he disappeared like that. before he could even think about leaving carlos struck up a conversation with him forcing him to stay put.

HEARTBURN

"and tell me why does my heart burn when i see your face?"

when oscar first saw charles leclerc, there was no doubt in his mind that he was an attractive man. which left him feeling confused, why the hell was he thinking that about a man? oscar wasn't gay, at least he thought he wasn't, oscar wasn't quite sure. it's not like he ever had the time to discover if he liked boys as much as he liked girls. one thing he knew for sure was that he liked girls, he had girlfriends in the past. all oscar knew was that charles leclerc was an attractive man. and look, oscar had kissed a few guys on a dare, namely his best friend logan sargeant, but those kisses never meant anything. he never felt anything after those kisses and it's not like he'd had what many called 'a gay awakening'

oscar wasn’t even sure if he was just supposed to wake up one day and decide if he liked men or not. were there rules to that? was he supposed to talk to someone? was he supposed to talk to him mum about his feelings? was it supposed to be one of those moments in books where he went oh, oh, and realize he liked men and women? what the hell was he supposed to do? 

“mate,” logan whispered, “you’re staring.” 

oscar shrugged his best friend off, “i am not.” 

“you absolutely are,” frederick chimed in. oscar turned to glare at the dane before huffing out, “i am not.” 

before frederick could reply, inés joined them, “who are we staring at?” 

“charles leclerc apparently,” logan joked. inés laughed, “are you three finally realizing that charles leclerc is the poster boy for pretty faces in formula 1?” 

“wouldn’t that be your brother?” frederick questioned. the dane looked like it had hurt to say that, everyone one in their friend group knew about the rocky relationship inés had with her brother. inés made a face at that, “no, trust me, it’s charles leclerc.” 

“what about my brother?” arthur chimed in as he too, also joined them. inés smiled at the youngest leclerc boy, “who you do you think is the poster boy for pretty faces in formula 1. i think it’s charles, fred thinks it’s my brother.” 

“definitely lewis hamilton,” logan chimed in. the four of them turned to look at oscar, waiting for his response. the australian blushed, “off the grid? jenson button. on the grid? daniel ricciardo.”

arthur laughed at the australian, “i think it is red bull sebastian.” 

inés gasped, “why didn’t i think of that!” she paused for a moment, “but i agree with osc, it’s gotta be jenson button.” 

frederick snorted, “yes, it’s 100% jenson button.” 

inés sighed dreamily, “i love him, i could marry him in a heartbeat.” 

arthur elbowed the australian, wiggling his eyebrows, as if to say, “you wish she was saying that about you huh?” oscar rolled his eyes at the monegasque but it’s not like that had stopped arthur from making fun of him before. 

“he’s twice your age,” oscar pointed out, “not to mention married and a father.” 

“he could be your father,” logan joked. 

inés rolled her eyes at both of them, “age is just a number boys.” 

“and prison is just a place,” oscar muttered. frederick who stood beside him, giggled softly. arthur leaned over, “your jealousy is showing oscar.” 

oscar harshly elbowed arthur, “shut up.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

later that night, when oscar laid in his hotel room, staring at the ceiling he found himself asking why he felt butterflies in when he had met charles leclerc's eye. that had never happened before, and he had met the older leclerc plenty of times. perhaps it was time oscar actually talked to someone about his feelings but who? he couldn't talk to his mom because that was an embarrassing conversation waiting to happen. he couldn't talk to mark about it because for some reason the older australian put charles leclerc in a box with sebastian vettel. not that mark still hated sebastian, he had been very clear about that, but to oscar it still seemed like it hurt mark to talk about him or anything related to him.

oscar sure as hell couldn't talk to logan or fred about it because all the two blondes would do is make fun of him. not that they didn't do that already but oscar was NOT going to sit through another conversation with them so they teased him relentlessly. besides, oscar was like 98% sure he was just going through a phase. but it couldn't be a phase, there had been that boy in primary school that oscar had thought was cute, then there was that short time period where he had a massive crush on sebastian vettel, much to mark's disappointment. oscar could remember him muttering, "why couldn't he crush on jenson instead?"

which, oscar could admit, he also had at one point, but he could never remember feeling that way towards charles leclerc. he had met charles plenty of times, that's usually what happened when you were friends with someone. arthur had met his family and he had met arthur's family. none of that explained why oscar felt stupid little butterflies whenever he made eye contact with charles leclerc.

then, there was the inés sainz of it all. oscar was sure he had a crush on girl, actually he knew he had a crush on her, he had since before they met. it was part of the reason as to why logan had gone up to the younger girl all those years ago. teasing oscar had always been logan's favorite past time, it still was to this day. what oscar couldn’t understand was how he had developed feelings for two people at the same time.

what was even more confusing was how he had developed feelings for people who seemed like complete opposites. he didn't know what it was but the two just seemed like they would never get along (oh how wrong he was, not that he knew that yet) so there oscar sat, confused not only about his own feelings but why he felt the way he did.

liked by, isahernaez, aidan, lilymhe and others

ines_sainz we go back to racing this week!! i will no longer be rotting in a hole somewhere. (edit: oscar is demanding for joris' rights. 📸 joris_trouche)

view all comments

maxverstappen33 you're literally in my spare room watching criminal minds?? when the fuck did you take these??

ines_sainz when we were in australia for the race that never happened?? user01 traveling during a global pandemic?? what the fuck is wrong with rich people?? maxverstappen33 we're in fucking austria for our jobs your moron ines_sainz i'm quarantining with max because apparently i can't be left to my own devices fernandoalo_oficial you nearly set your apartment on fire with a candle.

aidan come back home??

ines_sainz i have a job?? aidan and?? so do i?? alex_albon you're an influencer 💀 user02 you cannot convince me that those guys actually like aidan

oscarpiastri wow, no credits for me??

ines_sainz YOU DIDN'T TAKE THE PICTURES?? JORIS DID?? arthur_leclerc why are you hanging out with joris?? ines_sainz do i have to remind you that our brothers are coworkers arthur?? or did you just forget that?? oscarpiastri wow, no creds for joris?? ines_sainz you're annoying, go away.

louieee baby gorl you are stunning

ines_sainz thank you baby gorl logansargeant THIS IS YOUR FAULT! SHE WON'T STOP CALLING PEOPLE BABY GORL AROUND THE PADDOCK! charles_leclerc it's true. i've never seen sebastian turn so red and we drive for ferrari landonorris glad to know i'm not the only victim. ines_sainz puh-lease norris, you wish i called you baby gorl. i only reserve that for the babiest of baby gorls. alex_albon glad to know i'm in that category. lewishamilton that actually explains so much now

user03 knowing this girl is about to make waves in f3 fills me with joy.

user04 right? absolutely killed it in f4. i can't wait to see what she does later on user05 oh those sainz racing genes go hard

joris__trouche i am being forced against my will to ask for my picture credits...free me

ines_sainz you let a koala of all people bully you into doing this?? joris__trouche he is very good at getting people to do what he wants ines_sainz trust me, i know. i'm still bitter about my tim-tams...

carlossainz55 shouldn't you be training right now?

ines_sainz ximena allows 15 minute breaks ximena.gomez i'm your manager kid, not your trainer ines_sainz same difference

user06 she looks so pretty

user07 right? girl is so fucking happy to be back to racing user08 i, for one, am so fucking happy we're back to racing, i missed seeing 20 grown men go vroom in odd shapes for 90 minutes

charles_leclerc why are you hanging out with my best friend?? without me??

ines_sainz joris said he needed 5 minutes away from you joris_trouche it's true, i did. charles_leclerc i don't want you too hanging out again. you're mean to me when you hang out. ines_sainz you're not my dad. you can't stop me. charles_leclerc i'll tell your dad fernandoalo_oficial you're daughter is being mean fernandoalo_oficial that's my girl charles_leclerc oh-

user09 so is it not a joke that fernando is inés' dad or is it?

user10 at this point no one can fucking tell. like even laura and will are in on the joke. user11 that man is more of her father than her actual father is. i've never once seen that man at an f3 race cheering her on. fernando is always there. user10 it's worse when we know sainz sr is at races because he gets featured on sky or f1tv but he's never at her races. user12 oh my god you people are being so dramatic and for what? he clearly doesn't have the time to see her race in lower categories. user11 but clearly he can attend free practices for carlos...

patriciooward you have to come watch me race at least once this season hermana

ines_sainz let me have time and i'll come to at least one race patriciooward and that'll be?? ines_sainz until at least mid september patriciooward BOOO!!! your job sucks ines_sainz patricio, there was this thing called a global pandemic, you might remember what that was patriciooward i remember you pestered me for hours to play animal crossing with you. ines_sainz and the sims 4 because none of the losers i know wanted to play

user12 inés sainz playing the sims 4 with patricio o'ward was not something i knew i needed.

user13 someone tell arrow mclaren to get pato to play the sims 4 user12 just don't include mods or pato might combust patriciooward what are these mods you speak of?? ines_sainz STOP! NO ONE TELL HIM! user14 uh-oh, i feel like i'm to blame and i wasn't even involved in this. patriciooward oh i'll figure it out eventually. user15 where the fuck were you people when inés was documenting the sims 4 chronicles?? user13 clearly not where ever these chronicles where being documented.

BONUS: THE SIMS 4 CHRONICLES

¡taglist!

@minmira95 // @lesliiieeeee // @vroomvroommuppett // @prongsvault // @justtprachisblog // @scuderiadevils // @cataf1 // @chezmardybum // @formulaal // @lilsiz // @norstappenvibes // @ironspdy // @nikfigueiredo @hinamesgigantica // @niniluvsainz // @matchaverse // @fakeikeastore // @theseus-jpg // @six-call // @81folklore // @emppusofi // @luvsforme // @nichmeddar // @loloekie // @luvpedro // @donttouchthegnote // @nothaqks // @inferiusreggie // @mochimommy2002 // @rach3164 // @clove08 // @clove0 // @lillysbigwilly // @jenxjar // @blupblupfish // @thereadinggremlin05 // @meowiarty // @magical-spit // @camdensreg // @laneyspaulding19 // @ocyeanicc // @yelenasloverrrrr // @percervall // @blushmimi // @spilled-coffee-cup // @michelleyw81 // @yeanoskrrt // @greantii // @ietss

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¡leclerc-s speaks!

this whole thing is almost 3k words, which is a lot for me. thought it was finally time to give you guys part 2 for the mini series i have going on with this story. i actually don't know how to write someone struggling with their sexuality all the well so i hope it was at least decent. (any pointers anyone has would be great for future reference)

¡disclaimer!

this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[mehiwilldoitlater]

Now hear me out,what if. What if we did get Sent back to our world. But. Our monke was sent with us. Pretty please 👉👈🥺 We gotta fuel the shenanigans of things somehow. I wanna see him get whiplash from both technology and culture shock. We've been nice to our boi for a good while,it's time to bully him finally.

When you both wake up in the middle of the city, with people standing, asking if there was a con around or something, you know that you both are in something big.

You needed to find a good hiding place, but you knew what was happening: you and the Destined One were now in your own world.

The buzzling city, the cars, the technology—everything made his poor brain scrumble. You cane from this?! This chaos?!

The smell for him is difficult to handle, the absence of trees, and the strange behavior of the people...

///

"This is...your home?"

"Yup."

Hiding in a tree, the two of you admired the small portion of the city that the park hallowed you to observe. While you remembered what it feels like to breathe the same air where you were born, Yuán Fèn couldn't take his eyes off the palace in the distance.

"Are those... pagodas?"

"Oh no, those are skycrapers. People live and work there."

"Oh..."

Everything was out standing. And the mortal did it without the help of gods or others! They did it themselves! He gasped again, his tail swaving excited.

"We should go now! ...Maybe you can finally meet my family!"

///

That's your plan...until you find out what's really happened to you.

You were wondering if the car that had crashed into you was some sort of allucination or something like that, but when you reached your home, you could feel all the pain that you hadn't felt the day of the accident.

When you knocked at your door, you guessed that your mother could feel dizzy. After your disappearance of months, what you didn't expect was her tò Just faint on your porch, right in front of you and Yuán Fèn. You both were able to bring her into her room, and after that, you started to notice a pattern that scared you.

While Yuán Fèn tried to make her come back from the world of the living, you noticed the door of your room locked; many of your photos were missing from the usual spot. And there, in the living room, a photo of you at your prom, in an intricate frame. Written in silver ink, the lines "in loving memory.".

You really wanted to faint at that moment.

///

It feels so strange looking at your own grave. You guessed that they would you in this one particular spot. It was a family place there.

"I told them that I wanted to be cremated."

Yuán Fèn was more interested in trying to decipher your mental state. You were just there, watching at your own photo. He felt so strange... so that was what Mitraya meant when he said you were rebuking everything in your real world by choosing him. He looked again at that stone block, your name carved in there... then moved away.

"Okay, I think I'm in need of... What are you doing?!"

You spotted him taking a few flowers from one spot to another.

"Playing respect!"

"To Who?!"

Then, with the small bouquet in his hand, he put the flowers in the small pot near your photo. 

"..oh ..." That was the only word that you said after that.

///

Three things were clear to you:

1) Going back to Mount Huaguo was the priority;

2) You needed to find some money since you were basically broke;

3) Need to keep the monkey away from every electrical device.

The first one was based more on a sense of morality. After all, you made a choice, and that was the choice to stay in that world full of magic because you fell in love with the destined one and a simple cane back home wasn't enough to move you. 

Not to mention that you have nothing that came back anymore, so...

The second, hard but not that much. You have nowhere to go, so you were forced to stay in a cheap and very not so sanitary motel that you both found. 

Luck were your side because that place needed someone that could clean or fix staff and you two? We're the masters at fixing staff...sorta.

But the third one...oooh boy...

///

You were drinking coffee, how much did you miss it, trying to schedule the next day of work for you and Yuán Fèn. You could clearly hear him doing something in the small kitchenette, moving staff, putting them somewhere, opening things, cutting them...

Then you heard the roar of that old blender that you both found around.

" DARLING?" You used your very sweet tone, a sign that you were expecting the worst for him. "What are you doing?!"

"Nothing."

"That doesn't sound like a -"

And there, in front of you, he putted a very strangely colored liquid, viscous, and with some strange objects floating here and there.

"What Is It?"

"A bunch of staff!"

"I know that; it's clearly a bunch of different staff."

"You should try it, then talk!"

"I genuinely want it five meters away from me."

"Suit yourself!" And then, in your horror, he proceeded to drink the staff. 

///

After days of adjusting and trying to get used back to the modern world, when you both got inside your shared room and found no one but Maitreya himself, you both got a huge shock. You don't know what was the most unrecognizable scene—the actual boy in the room or the fact that he was reading a comic book that talked about the Monkey King or the Yankees cap in his head.

And he just waved! Like nothing! 

He decided to give some explanation, but the most important was why you were sent there and how to. come back.

The first was more for the two of you. After your decision, you decided to leave your world behind, but you did know what that really meant? He wanted to know that and gave you a free way out, a small taste of your original world, and the thought that even this could sway you away from the destined one, and he received a slap on his head by you, and he admitted he deserved it. Another test of loyalty? They really believed you were so easy?!

Well, many were before you...

As for coming back, it was easy, of course! Did he not do it himself right now? 

When you and Yuán Fèn looked at each other, Happy Tò was able to finally come back to Mount Huaguo, but you were stopped by the kid.

"You have to finish your schedule this week! And, oh, won't it be better if you gave a notice?"

How the heck did he know these things?!

"Aaand," he continued, holding an old toaster, "explain to me this little miracle."

@sun-jglim @crimsonflameproxy

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@kirax-the-lazy-girl. @sleepydang

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@marcu-bug @thepoweroffiction

@riolu4 @angryvampire

[ghostybaby000]

Gone | Part 1

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x reader

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: 18+, fighting, cursing, general violence, symptoms of panic, fluff

Tag List: @yyiikes @talooolaaloolla @strawberrygato @cumsluut @sofiacoppolaslut @blackbeautyiloveyouso @casalucard @identity2212

You squeeze his hand as you push through the large crowd of people. There’s noises coming from every direction, people no more than a few inches apart at a time. You make your way outside the building to being outside, leaves and other debris you can feel crunching under your feet as you follow Simon. There were still far too many people outside for you to even think of letting go of his hand, you were sure to get lost. 

He makes his way through the sea of people, keeping his head down with you directly behind him, there was no way you were letting go of his hand, he squeezes yours ever so slightly to remind you that he wasn’t letting go either.

 You both finally push into a clearing where you see he’s found a table, and it feels like you can breathe again. You sit down at the small table as Simon pulls up a chair to be seated with you, scraping the concrete as he does. You look around the park where rides flew in the background, loud noises of machines were going off in the distance, and you hear people laughing as they pass by. You were just about exhausted, but the excitement of being here with him only grew with every new machine or challenge you found. You feel the ache in your feet from the hours that you’ve already been here, and looking to Simon you can tell he is just as tired. 

As Simon is unfolding the map to the park, you see a familiar set of faces approach from behind Simon. Before they reach him he turns around to see them both, John and his date. You wave hello as Simon stands to pull another table closer to yours. John grabs a set of chairs in each arm, and places them to be seated across from you and Simon. 

Both John and Simon chatted as you and his date did the same. It was originally meant to be a double date, but you both found you wanted to do different things and instead agreed to meet after a few hours to check in. John’s date was a medium height with long wavy hair, and a good sese of humor. You had only met her once or twice before but always found her to be welcoming. You chat over the rides and how scared John’s date was at the thought of rollercoasters, and how John thought the games were tampered with, earning him a dramatic eye roll. Under the table Simon’s hand thumbed over your thigh as they spoke, you wouldn’t ever protest the constant connection to him. After probably a half hour, John’s date was itching to see more of the park and admittedly you were too. Saying goodbye to the two of them as you again were hand in hand with Simon to another portion of the park. 

This park wasn’t incredibly large, in fact you could probably know your way around without the map by the end of the night, although they were still handed out at every other booth just in case. One part was sectioned off for food while the other sections held rides and booths to play games. Simon had been following you around, taking on the challenges of a few different booths, some of them being more difficult than he’d expected. He saw how your face lit up when you saw a reward from behind a stand, and he knew it was yours. One booth in particular got his attention, lights surrounded its frame with plush toys hanging on either side. The goal of this booth was to throw a baseball at glass bottles, and by knocking down a certain number of bottles, you would get a prize. 

He started out by giving a reasonable toss, one that looked as if it should of knocked over the bottles with ease, they didn’t move. He tried again this time throwing slightly harder, one of the bottles falls. The man behind the booth demanded that for the larger rewards, you had to make all of your throw’s count, Simons eyes narrowed at the man. You tug on his sleeve,

‘Oh c’mon Simon there’s so much more to look at! Let’s go.’ Simon pulls out his wallet and hands the man more money, as you gently let go of his shirt. He gives Simon three baseballs; each would have to hit and knock over the glasses. Simon takes a small step back before winding up and throwing the ball at the rows of bottles, he was determined. It hits two bottles taking them both down, making a clank as they fell. Again he leans into his throw, giving himself a bit of thrust he releases the next ball, one bottle knocking over. He rears back a third time to throw the ball, pushing himself just slightly harder, and it grazes the bottle, tipping over-it falls. 

Simon swells with pride, his posture becoming more straight, he looks at the seller and points to a plush a few rows back,

‘I want that one, right there.’ 

A smile comes over your face as people make their way through the park behind you, more busy now that night was getting closer. A group breaks to walk around you, you reach for Simons arm just as he steps forward and out of reach to get his prize, what looked like a stuffed animal. Someone brushes past you aggressively, pushing you backwards and farther from Simon, into the large groups passing by. you turn looking both directions for the person who had run into you carelessly, there were too many people to tell any difference between them.

You swear it was only a second, maybe less that you took your eyes off of his tall broad back.  You hear the rides behind you, people screaming in a joyous fear, when you feel hands come around to cover your mouth, and it all fades to black. 

Simon turns around on his heel, the pride momentarily spread on his face. He looks around thinking you were looking at a ride or had maybe found John again in the mix of people. His eyes bounce between peoples faces, searching for your features that were so familiar. He felt his hand squeeze around the bear you had wanted, that he had won you only seconds ago. Immediately Simon feels his chest tighten, an entire new anxiety taking his every thought. 

He searches for anywhere you could have gone, but there were just too many people. He feels his breaths becoming shallow as the panic strangled him with every thought. He goes back to the concession stand where you had been moments ago, stepping up onto the counter, he doesn’t hear the man telling him to get down. He doesn’t hear the people on the rides, he doesn’t hear the children screaming in the distance. He hears nothing but your sweet voice that kissed his ears moments ago, the sound of his heart pounding in his head, the sound of fear taking hold.