#just because your grandparents were born there

[that-rad-jewish-girl]

Can you imagine if random Americans today claimed they were indigenous to previously native lands.

“Actually, the Trail of Tears is just propaganda. No one forced anybody off their lands. And they were not even indigenous here. But I am because my grandma was born here.”

Then how come we keep finding artifacts from their tribes here during archaeological digs? And how come their customs are centered around this area of land? And how come we know this church is built on top of native burial sites?

*insert sputtering and slurs*

And you guys are indigenous to a continent half a world away. You’re not native to Alabama, you’re native to Britain and France.

“Okay well you need to talk to our media correspondent, not me”

[the-clockwork-three]

Day 2: Gur Cake

Also known as Chester Cake in every part of Ireland that is not Dublin

Its a type of bread pudding with pastry on the top and the bottom and a slice could have been bought for a ha'penny (half a penny) throughout most of the nineteenth century in Dublin. It got its name from gurriers, little boys who skipped school and were generally, in my father's words, little thugs. The gur cake was the only cake gurriers could afford in the bakery.

Makes 24.

Ingredients:

8 slices stale bread with the crusts cut off

3 tbsp flour

1⁄2 tsp baking powder

2 tsp mixed spice

100g (1/2 cup) brown sugar

2 tbsp butter

175g currants or mixed dried fruit

1 large egg, beaten

4 tbsp milk

350g shortcrust pastry

icing sugar for sprinkling

Instructions

Soak the bread in a little water for an hour, then squeeze the moisture out. Combine the flour, baking powder, mixed spice, sugar, butter, fruit, beaten egg and milk. Mix well.

Line the bottom of a 22 cm (9 in) square tin with half of the pastry and spread the mixture over, then cover with the remaining pastry. Make a few diagonal gashes across the top and bake at 190°C/375°F/gas mark 5 for about an hour.

Sprinkle the top with sugar and allow to cool in the tin, then cut into 24 small squares.

Recipe taken from:

Tags: @rusalkaandtheshepherdgirl @charlataninred @grimalkinsquill @unseeliethot (ask to be added or removed)

[neechees]

Late night thoughts, but seeing white ppl's reaction to landback & Turtle Island & Hawaii has really showed us that so many people still don't understand settler colonialism or why it's bad, or even acknowledge the fact that them being born in Turtle Island does in fact, mean that they have privilege as a result of that settler colonialism.

"My ancestors didn't do any of the killing, so they didn't do any colonizing" You being in Turtle Island is proof that they did in fact, participate in colonization. Even if you know for a fact that your ancestors didn't kill any Indigenous people, the colonizers that DID do that specifically did it so that other White settlers could replace the Indigenous population. That's what settler colonialism is. The settlers that moved here were just as much part of colonization of the Americas as people like Christopher Columbus was.

"My ancestors were mostly farmers" I said this so many times in the past, but yeah they were still colonizers. Natives were pushed off good, farmable land onto reservations (specifically areas that tended to be worse off for farming, crop planting, and hunting) specifically so that white settlers could have the good areas to themselves to farm. The U.S and Canadian government paid for White settlers' travel expenses specifically so that they could come colonize Turtle Island. The gov put out ads to "buy Indian Land!" And people definitely took them up on it. Plenty of poor White people trespassed onto what even was designated as land reserved for Native Americans, and that land automatically became theirs ( and disenfranchised from the tribe) for no reason besides that they were on it. One reason why so many White Americans believe they have specifically a Cherokee ancestor is because there's lots who faked Native lineage in order to steal land from displaced Cherokee. Theres a good chance your ancestors did any one of these things.

I think people have this image of what a "colonizer" is in their head and it's a moustache twirling white villian holding a sword or a musket, so much that they don't remember or realize that "colonizer" or "settler" does very much in fact does also include their pastoral great grandparents who were "immigrants"

[noxcheshire]

Back at it again with my Danny is mom coded au’s, but this time it’s because of Clockwork that he suddenly has a whole ass teenage kid.

Clockwork had been bored or maybe he was playing a game against an opponent, or even lost a bet, whatever it was, he stepped in right as Jason was searching for his biological mother.

The DNA that would have registered itself as one Sheila Haywood, confirming Jason’s mother, glitched a terrible green across the screens of the batcomputer.

In those few moments of chaos Jason’s heart beat rapidly as he tried to figure out why the computer wasn’t working, wondering if his only chance to find his mom — his blood mom — would never find success.

Then as suddenly as things went wrong the DNA settled and pinged.

Jason watched, his chest tight, as one Danny C. Works, formerly Danny Fenton appeared onto the big screen.

Danny looked a lot like Jason, short cut black hair more straight than the subtle curls of Jason’s own; deep blue eyes, tired in a way that spoke of long days and nights, but with a warm happiness that made the familiar smile — the one Jason would see on himself every time he looked into the mirror — even more striking.

Jason didn’t linger too long on the male identifying gender, nor the fact his mom leaned more towards a masculine name or clothing.

There were plenty of male to female, and female to male leaning individuals that lived in Crime Alley. He had seen it enough to not even bat an eye at it, even now. After all, in Gotham you minded your business least you find yourself in business you can’t leave.

On a different monitor information of Danny C. Works piled for Jason to quickly browse through.

Danny was a senior engineer, no intimate relationships, and with no close connections to family outside of the tentative calls from Jasmine Fenton.

Danny was estranged from Jack and Madeline Fenton, a falling out that had occurred just a little before Danny’s high school graduation. If Jason calculated it correctly that would have been — around the season Jason himself would have been born.

Okay, so no grandparents then but I might have a maybe aunt. Jason scrolled further and stilled.

Twin toddlers: Dante and Danielle Works.

Jason had baby siblings.

He doesn’t let the sting of younger siblings consume him, doesn’t allow the whispering thoughts of why he had been given up when his younger siblings had been kept and so very obviously loved.

Jason took deep breathes, he didn’t have time to linger here. He had a family to get to, and a family he would get to.

It took almost all night to reach, the starlight night sky slowly and surely fading into cloudy wine as the sun rose, but Jason made it.

And when the door opened to his hesitant but firm knock, Jason was unable to speak. His mom — dad, maybe? Did they want to be mom or dad? — stood in the doorway, brows furrowed in confusion.

It was when Danny spoke his vigilante name did Jason only just realize that he was still dressed to the nine’s in his Robin costume.

[nonranghaes]

mingyu gasps like he's just found a genuine treasure, eyes all shiny and genuinely happy. "oh my god," he coos, "is this you?"

even without seeing the picture in his hands, you can wager a guess at what he just found while flipping through an old photo album put together by your grandma. you're looking for pictures from your high school years so you can prove a point to mingyu about how you did, in fact, start dressing better after you met him and wanted to impress him. unfortunately, they're all buried underneath a billion pictures of you throughout childhood alongside the rest of your family. it's mingyu's job to sort through the loose photos from a box she'd handed you... and of course he's distracted.

"probably," you shrug. you're thumbing through pictures of your parents on some vacation they took with both sets of grandparents way before you were born. "am i wearing the ducky romper?"

mingyu climbs down off of the couch and into the space next to you, extending out the picture so that both of you can look at it. sure enough, it's you as a infant, ducky romper and all. your face is all scrunched up and sleepy, no doubt having been awoken from a nap, but your grandma looks at you adoringly all the same. mingyu does, too: "you were so tiny..."

"well... yeah," you shrug once more. "i was a baby." but you're fighting back a smile: you get it. you'd probably start cooing over baby pictures of mingyu, too.

"look at your little chubby cheeks..." he giggles, all too thrilled to see how soft and round and tiny you were. "are there more?" he's already placing the photo carefully on the coffee table and digging back into the box. "how many are there? i wanna see them all--"

"only if you show me your pictures--"

"done."

ah. right. you're dealing with mingyu, who seems always determined to win at silly little debates with you like this (you've been on the receiving end of so, so many compliments because he wouldn't let you put him first). but if it means you get to see pictures of tiny baby mingyu... then maybe you're winning this time, too.

[eeriefeelingsat3amuwu]

hdhahdhajfbajdnaudb Okay having Thoughts™️ about some of these ‘Odysseus raises Astyanax’ fics. Because. Because if we’re talking about the full odyssey experience. If Astyanax were to survive. He would have spent 11 years of his life growing up with Odysseus as his father. Now, to the main area of thought - Telemachus. Imagine. Imagine being a child, hearing of your father only in stories. From your mother, the servants, your grandparents. Seeing your grandmother succumb to her grief, seeing your mother grow sadder by the day, more sullen, seeing your grandfather withdraw into himself, all because of your father.

The man you are told you look like, the man who left for war, six, eight, eleven, fifteen, TWENTY years ago, left your home in disrepair, left your mother and you to deal with suitors disrespecting your house and name, the man who you are so angry at, yet Also worship as a god, because you don’t have a CHOICE. You can’t love him, you don’t KNOW him, but you love him in the way you love your gods - distant, unknowable, unreachable, and yet you have his face, your mother sometimes gates at you with these sad, sad eyes and you know she’s not really seeing you when she tells you she loves you.

You know he is a man, logically, how could he not be when your mother still remembers every calous on his hands and your grandfather tells you of how he almost set his room on fire one day, but he is only a legend to you. You hear other Kings, Kings from the same war your father left for (they came back, they are already back and he is still gone) discussing him, you hear how he helped end the war with your and your mother’s name on his lips and YET! He’s not here, he’s not here but he can’t be dead, because everyone agrees that he is too stubborn to die.

And then. He is back. And he has a boy with him. A boy who is younger than you, still just a child. And he regards the boy as his own, introduces him to you as ‘your brother’. He hasn’t dishonoured your mother, he took the child from the burning city of Troy because he is merciful and kind and you see it in the way the boy hugs him and calls him papa. And you should be happy, your father is back, you have a sibling now, your mother finally smiles properly again, your grandfather no longer cries when he sees you.

But. This boy. The boy your father brought from Troy. He got all that you have ever wanted: he got your father, from the moment he was Born he got your father, he was there for his first steps, his first words, he taught him how to sail, fight, read, count, he has been there with him through it all and you have never wanted anything more. ‘This child is not his son’ says that hateful, angry voice in your head.

You spend time with your father. He weeps, hugs you. Tells you he’s proud of the man you are now. Teaches you how to rule, it is your birthright, he says. He goes hunting with you and tells you he loves you and that the thought of you and your mother got him through many a peril. You spend time with your brother, you make him laugh, he loves you, clings to you just as much as he clings to your father, you teach him more about Ithaca, the way it is now, because he’s only heard stories. And still, in the back of your mind, you know you hate the child. You despise him with every fiber of your heart even if your mind knows he is not to blame - and that he has dealt with the same thing, just opposite to you.

Whereas you had a home, your mother and the rest of your family, but yearned for more than just the memory of your father, wanted for freedom, the boy had him, in the flesh, soothing his nightmares and teaching him to live, had the open sea and the deck of a ship, the capability to go anywhere, he lacked the stability that you had and despised. He didn’t know his grandfathers, would never get to know his grandmother, only had a memory of a mother and a brother, saw them as saints, as a reason to keep pushing forth.

You are opossites. You don’t know how it happened, as the child is not hers, but your brother looks like your mother where you are clearly your father’s son, yet your personalities seem to have been switched. You’re calmer, much more subdued, you don’t smile easily and are weaker of will. Your brother is loud and boisterous, quick to crack a grin and so, so Brave.

You still get the compulsion to bow to your father whenever he enters a room, to touch him to make sure he is real, at times. He sometimes wakes screaming, seeing horrors that you could not imagine in his sleep and doesn’t feel comfortable in a proper bed for years. He sets the curtains on fire and your father laughs in relief and he holds him to his chest. Your own chest cleaves in two.

Just. Is this anything?

[kakiastro]

4°, 16° & 28°: The Cancer Degrees

All cancers look like bunnies too me. Cute and adorable ☺️

Hey y’all!

Today, we’re discussing Cancer degrees! Degrees in astrology are very important. I refer to them as “Cake toppings” because I think they add an extra flavor to your chart and placements.

If any of your placements have Cancer degrees , then that particular placement has cancer influence.

Each degree has a different level to them from lowest to highest tiers.

4°

-this degree is level one of cancer. You are here to learn about family. Family may be a huge theme. You may not come from a stable family so you are here to learn what that is to you. Even if you did come from a good home, you’ll still come in contact with different kinds of family dynamics that you may find interesting. In past lives, family life may not have been a priority for you so you’re here to learn about it. You may struggle with trying to figure out what your role is in your family(the one you’re born into and you create)Emotions is the 2nd thing you come to learn and experience. You need to learn how to “feel” if you have air placements, you probably just shivered at that word😅 you could’ve been born into a family that lacks emotional intelligence or emotionally detached. You may have been taught to” keep your feelings to your self type of thing.” You’ll be put into situations that will make more aware and you’ll learn to express them as you age and experience life. You may encounter lots of water placements like Scorpio (who feels intensely), they can teach you a lot. You struggle with coming out your shell, you’ll be put in situations that force you too show yourself.

16°

-this degree is level 2 of cancer. people with this degree experience emotional intelligence at a young age. You could’ve been taught at a young age that it’s okay to show your emotions but learned to balance them. You may be close to one or 2 of your family members. People with this degree has an idea at an early age of what type of family they want to have, what they will or wont pass down to their children. You have a sense on what family should be like. You may encounter people with dysfunctional families that makes you appreciate yours a little bit more. Not saying your family is perfect because who’s is but you’ll see that they may had some things right. You may be a tad more outgoing than the 4° natives. You may have been pushed out your confront zone at an early age.

28°

-this is the highest level of Cancer. You are the Matriarch of your family. It doesn’t matter if you identify as she, he or them, you carry strong Mother energy. You came into this world knowing your role in the family and what you’re here to learn. You are the leader of your family, your earliest role models was probably your grandparent(s). You were close to them for a reason, they are here to pass on what they’ve learn, accomplished and failed at. You are picking up that mantle and breaking the curses and traumas, and starting the healing of your bloodline. This degree is known as “the household name” so you can bring lots of prestige to your family name , maybe the first to do so. I’ve seen this in a lot people married into a prestigious or well respected family. Even if your the last living one in your family, it’s your name that will stand the test of time.

Do you have any Cancer degrees? I’m open for readings!

[queenshelby]

AMERICAN GIRL (PART ONE)

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Grace's Stepdaughter!Reader

Warning: Grace is a bully, infidelity, taboo

On a brisk autumn day, you and your younger sibling Emma sailed into Liverpool harbor. You each carried a large, old-fashioned cart filled with towering brown suitcases, with a satchel casually slung over your shoulders.

The journey had left Emma exhausted, clinging to you as she marvelled at the unfamiliar sights of the port with wide eyes.

"I'm afraid," she confided in you, her words barely audible as they grazed your ear.

"I understand Em, but we have each other, and I will always look after you," you comforted her, putting on a smile. You promised to always take care of Emma, and true to your word, you have been her guardian angel since the day she arrived in this world.

Shortly after Emma was born, your mother sadly passed away due to unexpected complications during the pregnancy at her age.

It was a shock to everyone and left you to step into the roles of both mother and sister to Emma at the young age of 12.

Even in your youth, you held onto the hope that your father would one day find love again. Little did you expect that it would come in the form of Grace Burgess who was a young Irish woman with no money to her name after fleeing England in a haste. Grace had cleverly leveraged his wealth and power to her benefit despite their significant age difference.

Your father fell head over heels for her the moment he laid eyes on her at the corner grocery store in New York, just after your 13th birthday.

Their romance blossomed quickly, leading to marriage in less than a year.

At the tender age of seventeen, your father's love for her tragically transformed into heartbreak as she started a romantic relationship with a man from England - the very same man you were about to start living with.

Thomas Shelby was a name that sent shivers down the spine of those who knew of him - an enigmatic and formidable figure who held significant sway in the depths of England.

In the streets of Birmingham, he controlled his own illicit kingdom, bending the rules to his liking. And yet, your stepmother Grace couldn't help but be drawn to him, just as she had been to your father all those years ago when they first crossed paths.

Just before ending his life due to a broken heart, your wealthy father decided to cut ties with his second wife, leaving all his possessions to you and your sister for your 21st birthdays. This decision left Grace boiling with rage.

Soon after, she vanished to be with her lover in England and the two of you were forced to reside with a cruel family member instead as you had not yet turned 21, being the age of adulthood in America.

Within less than a year of living with this man however, you brought about his demise with a single bullet to the head, all because he dared to touch your sister Emma. It was in that moment that your entire world began to shift.

After a series of run-ins with the law leading to stints in juvenile detention, your father's lawyer came to the rescue, securing your freedom at the age of nineteen, albeit with the catch that you had to leave the country for good.

Of course, you gave your consent, but you were taken aback when it was revealed that your grandparents had struck a deal with Grace, out of all people, to care for you and Emma until you turned 21 and inherited half of your father's wealth.

What also came as a shock was the discovery that for the past two years, your family had been colluding with the Shelby Family, smuggling liquor into the United States without your knowledge and you knew that this must have been Grace's doing.

Grace had always been fascinated by the concept of wealth, much like your grandparents and uncle who shared her passion. Therefore, it didn't come as a shock to you when you recently stumbled upon the name 'Shelby Company Limited' in multiple transaction records within your grandfather's office.

While you understood the reasons behind everything relating to the business deals between your family and the Shelbys, the mystery still lingered as to why Grace decided to take you and Emma in after all the turmoil she had caused. After all, she had found herself entwined with a man of considerable wealth, so she had no need for the money that your family would have been willing to pay her for looking after you and your sister unless, of course, she was worried it wouldn’t last.

After two years had passed, this man still hadn't made her his wife, leaving you to ponder whether she harboured any doubts about his commitment to ever tying the knot.

Your stepmother may have been anxious about her partner abandoning her once the business arrangement in the US came to an end, a deal that she likely orchestrated and this, in itself, made you think that, perhaps, you would now finally have the upper hand.

As any young woman in your situation would, you nurtured a deep-seated anger towards Grace. She was the last person you wanted to rely on, let alone live with.

But you shoved those emotions down as you and Emma disembarked the large ship, weaving through the bustling crowd, ready for what lay ahead.

Just as instructed, outside the dock, you were greeted by a young man named Finn.

Finn, in his early twenties, extended his hand to take your luggage with a friendly smile as you approached.

"I am Finn, and you must be Y/N and Emma, right? Tommy has sent me to pick you up," he told you and Emma clung to you tightly, before peering at Finn suspiciously.

"Nice to meet you, Finn," you replied, offering a warm, polite smile.

Once your luggage was stored securely in the back of the Bentley, the three of you set off on the two-hour journey from Liverpool to Birmingham.

Emma's head rested on your shoulder as she slowly drifted off to sleep, her energy depleted from the journey, while Finn was attempting to make small talk with you while, occasionally, looking back through the rear-view mirror.

It was obvious to you that he had already taken a liking in you, but his youthful charm and charisma was not enough to sway you, not after everything that had happened in the past.

You acknowledged his attempts with brief responses, unable to fully engage in the conversation until he brought up the fact that you had killed a man.

"So, my brother mentioned that you had to leave New York because you killed someone. Is it true?" Finn questioned earnestly and without any filter whatsoever.

Your heart raced as you contemplated the best way to respond to his question.

"Yes, it's true," you finally admitted bluntly, looking straight ahead, not wanting to engage in a detailed conversation about it.

Finn, seemingly surprised by your response, paused before shifting the Bentley into a higher gear.

"Did you shoot him?" he asked, curiosity piqued.

You nodded, your jaw set.

Finn didn't press for more details, for which you were grateful. But you could sense his intrigue as he glanced at you through the rearview mirror.

Emma stirred in her sleep, mumbling softly, drawing your attention back to her peaceful face. You smoothed her unruly hair back, your heart swelling with protectiveness.

You would do anything to keep her safe. After all, you had already lost so much in your life already, so you could not lose her as well. 

***

Eventually, the streets of Birmingham came into view, appearing as a striking contrast to the glamour and elegance of your hometown. 

"Wow, this is different," you murmured to yourself, your gaze locked on the sprawling slums that lay outside the car window. There were workers fighting each other and whores selling themselves on the cobblestone streets, while children ran in all directions, many of them ragged and filthy.

"Don't worry. I am taking you somewhere nice," Finn assured you, seeing the look on your face and you could only hope that he was right, because if this was what Birmingham looked like everywhere, you wondered how you could possibly survive here for the next two years.

Despite Finn's enthusiasm, something about the place left you feeling uneasy, like a predator lurked in the shadows and you could see the appeal for criminals to operate here.

Before long, the Bentley turned into the private road of a luxurious home outside of Birmingham  .

The driveway was long, shielded by trees, and it wasn't until the last bend that you caught a glimpse of the mansion at the end.

The house was stunning, with intricately carved mahogany furnishings, rich velvet curtains framing large bay windows, and marble floors polished to a high sheen.

The structure exuded opulence while maintaining a cozy air with its plush décor.

Upon arrival, Finn hopped out of the driver's seat and opened the back door for you and Emma.

You carefully stepped out onto the cobblestone driveway, feeling the weight of this new world pressing down upon you. Emma rubbed her eyes and slowly emerged from her drowsy state, taking in the splendor of the ornate mansion with fascination and open admiration.

Finn led you through the imposing oak door, which creaked slightly as he pulled it open. As soon as you entered, you were met with a grand foyer adorned with chandeliers that cast an amber glow upon the walls.

"You made it," Grace 's stern voice eventually echoed off the marble tiles, causing you to turn around.

She stood there in a long-sleeved maroon blouse and black pencil skirt, her piercing blue eyes sizing you up like some sort of puzzle she couldn't wait to solve.

Emma, seemingly intimidated by her appearance, slowly retreated behind you as Grace approached with determination.

"You look well, given the circumstances," she then said to you, her voice laced with a noticeable hint of sarcasm, causing you to roll your eyes.

"I was hoping not to see you again, but here we are," you murmured under your breath, drawing Grace's ire as she narrowed her bright blue eyes infinitesimally.

"You should be grateful that I took you in," she snarled sharply, causing you to chuckle.

"How much are my grandparents paying you to have us?" you said, unflinching, watching Grace's face for a reaction.

Grace's expression barely changed, merely raising an eyebrow as if amused before replying scathingly, "Nothing. At least not until you make it to 21, so you better behave," she warned.

You took a deep breath, realizing that this was not the time to engage in a war of words with your stepmother. You turned to Emma and noticed that she was trembling slightly and you could see the worry etched into her delicate features. You slipped your arm around her shoulders, pulling her close and offering what you hoped was a reassuring smile.

"Let's get you settled in," you said softly to Emma, who managed a weak nod in response as Grace turned and led the way down the grand hallway.

"The maids will show you to your rooms. You will be staying in the staffing quarters,"  Grace snapped as she pivoted and strode through an arched doorway, leaving you and Emma with two young women wearing crisp white aprons who appeared in your line of vision.

You watched silently as Grace disappeared before you turned to Emma, smiling despite the tension thickening in the air, and whispered gently, "She can't hurt us, Em. She needs us. So just ignore her." 

Emma nodded slowly, but it was clear that she wasn't entirely convinced.

You couldn't blame her - the past few years had been nothing but a series of harsh lessons for both of you, leaving you both vulnerable and wary. But deep down, you knew that things would be different here. This was a new beginning for the two of you, away from the cold-hearted family members who had mistreated you, and into the care of someone who, while intimidating and unpredictable, was bound to follow your father's final wishes for financial reasons.

You were determined to make the best of this opportunity, no matter how difficult that might be considering your complicated history with Grace and, with that in mind, you unpacked your suitcases and settled in.

The rooms were modest but comfortable, with the staff quarters being clean and well looked after, much to your surprise.

Soon enough, your first day in Birmingham was drawing to a close and after you put Emma to bed, you decided to have a warm bath before venturing out to explore this somewhat opulent mansion. 

You put on the satin robe which once belonged to your mother and strolled towards the grand staircase with bare feet, looking at all of the incredible paintings that lined the walls, showcasing various landscapes and portraits of people whose names you did not yet know.

As you reached the second floor, you came across a door which seemed slightly ajar and upon pushing it open, you discovered a library.

Your eyes widened at the sight of thousands of books neatly arranged on wooden bookshelves that stretched from floor to ceiling before, in the room next to it, finding a large piano.

You walked over to the piano and gently touched its surface, marveling at the intricate carvings before looking back at the books surrounding you.

The library was quiet, save for the occasional creak of the old wooden floorboards settling. You moved further into the room, running your fingers along the spines of various titles.

There were novels from authors you recognized like Charles Dickens, Jane Austen and the Bronte sisters but there was also an array of non-fiction texts ranging from science, philosophy to mathematics and history.

There was also a section dedicated to poetry where you spotted a few works by Lord Byron, Samuel Taylor Coleridge and William Wordsworth which intrigued you.

Despite the vast quantities of books in this room, the smell of old leather-bound volumes filled the air as if it was just yesterday when they were placed on these mahogany shelves.

Just as you were about to pick up a book of poetry, the door creaked open, and you heard a dark voice behind you.

"It's quite sad, really," the man said, his tone heavy with contempt. "The book, I mean," he clarified as you turned around, meeting the stranger's gaze.

"I am Thomas Shelby and you must be Y/N,"  he introduced himself, approaching you with a confident stride.

Your eyes widened as you took in the sight of the man who stood before you. He was handsome, there was no denying that, but it wasn't just his chiseled features or his magnetic blue eyes that caught your attention. No, it was the air of danger that surrounded him, like a cloud that warned others not to get too close.

You composed yourself, extending your hand towards him. "Yes, I am Y/N. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr Shelby," you greeted him with a polite smile, determined to maintain your composure.

"Please, call me Tommy, eh,"  Thomas replied, his cockney accent more pronounced than you'd expected.

He took your offered hand, giving it a firm shake before letting go and stepping back to study you with his intense gaze which lingered a little longer on your bare legs than it probably should.

"Thank you for letting me and my sister stay here, with you," you said almost professionally , breaking the silence. You had to admit, Thomas was an intimidating man but you held your ground without flinching under his scrutiny.

"Well, it wasn't my choice," he chuckled. "Grace practically begged me and I find it rather difficult to say no to her these days,"  he admitted, his tone softening.

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at his candidness. "Well, my stepmother can be persuasive, I give her that," you told him while putting the book back into the shelf. 

"You could say that," he replied, offering little insight into their relationship. "Do you drink?" Thomas asked in a manner so casual that the question caught you off guard, but your curiosity was sparked, and you wanted to know more about him. Despite his intimidating presence, he struck you as an intriguing puzzle you couldn't wait to solve.

"I wouldn't say no," you responded with a slight tilt of your head, smiling coyly.

Thomas chuckled at your response before turning around to pour two glasses of whiskey from a crystal decanter on the leather-topped table nearby. With an elegant grace, he handed one to you.

You took it with a slight nod, allowing your fingers to graze his before taking hold of the glass. The warmth spread from your fingertips and up your arm, causing a pleasant shiver to run down your spine.

"There you go, now you can keep me some company," Tommy said with a sly grin as he took a sip of his whiskey and sat down.

"Why don't you get Grace to keep you company?" you asked as you followed suit, feeling the alcohol burn your throat and spread through your body, warming you from the inside out. 

"Because, by now, I would assume that she is sound asleep," Thomas replied, chuckling wryly.

"Well, it is midnight already, which brings me to the question of why you are still up," you asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Because I can't fucking sleep, Love," he replied in a tone of voice that made your heart race, "there is always business on my mind, day and night." 

You stared at him for a moment, contemplating whether or not to ask more about his life. After all, you had heard stories about Thomas Shelby and his criminal empire. 

"Well, the booze doesn't export itself to New York now, does it?"  you replied, a small smirk playing on your lips.

Thomas chuckled at your response, finding amusement in your wit. He appreciated a challenge - it was something he hadn't encountered in a while. Grace had always been so timid around him, obedient almost. But you, on the other hand, didn't cower in the face of his daunting presence.

"So you know what I do, eh?" Thomas agreed, swirling the whiskey in his glass. "Did Grace tell you?" Thomas questioned, a slight glint in his eyes as he studied you intently. His gaze was unwavering, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of discomfort at his scrutiny. However, you refused to let him intimidate you, meeting his gaze head-on.

"Oh god no. My stepmother would not discuss matters like this, not with me anyway. She very much dislikes me," you told Tommy as he lid himself a cigarette, his gaze never wavering. "But I know more about my family's business interests than one might think," you admitted, reluctant to speak ill of Grace.

Tommy's lips quirked upwards before he exhaled a cloud of smoke. "That doesn't surprise me, Love. A little birdie has told me that you had some run ins with the law recently, which is why you are here now, in fucking Birmingham of all places,"  Thomas said, his tone laced with an underlying hint of mischief.

He leaned back against the leather armchair, his eyes never leaving yours as he took a long drag from his cigarette.

"Well, it's safe to say that I had made some mistakes in the past," you admitted, holding his gaze firmly. "But I had my reasons for doing what I did," you explained, and  Thomas chuckled at your response, finding your confidence endearing. He had always admired a strong-willed woman - and you were undoubtedly that.

"We all have our reasons, Love,"  Tommy agreed, his tone softening.

You took another sip of your whiskey, the fire in your throat becoming increasingly comforting, and you let out a sigh. The truth was that you had always been impulsive, driven by emotion rather than reason.

You took a moment to gather your thoughts before speaking. "I suppose you're right," you admitted, swirling the amber liquid around your glass before raising from your seat.

"It's getting late and I should probably get some sleep," you said before thanking Tommy for the drink.

Your gaze lingered on him for a moment, studying his features as he did the same with you. There was a spark of curiosity between the two of you, but you quickly tried to push your intrusive thoughts away. 

"Good night, Y/N,"  Thomas murmured, his gaze dropping to your lips for a fleeting moment before you turned around and walked towards the door, hiding your body's reaction to his intense gaze.

"Goodnight," you replied softly, taking one last look at the library before stepping out and closing the door behind you.

You couldn't shake off the feeling of uneasiness that clung to you like a second skin. You shook your head slightly as if to clear the thoughts away, telling yourself that you were only imagining things.

But the way he had looked at you, the slight hint of something deeply sensual in his gaze, lingered and left you with a curious sensation.

You made your way to your guest room, undressing slowly before slipping between the smooth sheets. Emma was already fast asleep, her gentle snores barely audible as you switched off the bedside lamp. The room plunged into darkness, leaving only the faintest gleam of moonlight to cut through the curtains and cast thin stripes of silver upon the walls.

You stared up at the ceiling, the alcohol swimming lazily in your veins and causing your thoughts to swirl with unclear notions.

As much as you tried to fight against the growing allure, Thomas Shelby had intrigued you. There was no denying it. He possessed an air of mystery and darkness that called out to that impulsive part of you like a siren's song which was a part of you which you knew you had to suppress. 

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22

[lilghostiequinni]

Endless

Main Masterlist Lando Masterlist

Pairing: Pregnant Wife!female reader x dad!Lando Norris

Warnings: Fluffy, Established relationship, pregnancy, talk of birth

Summary: Let's just say when your daughter is coming, Lando isn't the best in this crisis compared to the ones on the track.

Requested: NO / yes

With the birth of your son less than ten months ago, you were ready for your daughter to be born.

Don't get it wrong, you loved being pregnant because you had an excuse for when you wanted more food or when hormones got too much.

But it doesn't mean you like the over overprotectiveness of your husband, and you could do virtually nothing other than sit there.

Normally, you love your husband's overprotectiveness, especially when other guys don't get the memo and ignore the ring, but you can barely stand to go to the bathroom without him worrying about you moving too much.

You couldn't travel anymore so before you couldn't travel anymore, you moved back to England temporarily to get help from your parents, from Lando's parents and family.

So you could rest while they watched your son.

It was the week of Silverstone when things felt differently, you told Lando, and he had the team update him on everything every few minutes that he was on the track.

So when Race Sunday came along, and you woke up with contractions and had Lando take you to the hospital only an hour before he had to be at the race, which you made him leave to attend and told him to win the race for his daughter.

So, that's what Lando did; he raced, with the pit wall giving him updates on you every ten minutes.

He won that race and did the podium and an hour of media before racing off to the hospital to be with you.

When he arrived, you were asleep, and no baby was in sight.

You woke up to the slight shuffling he made entering the room.

You watched as he looked around the room for your daughter.

"She went for testing about twenty minutes ago. She'll be back soon. And your son will be here with his grandparents around the same time," You tell him quietly as your throat feels so raw.

"Did you name her?" Lando asks as he stands next to your bedside, holding your hand and running his fingers over the top of your head. He kisses your forehead and nose before resting his forehead on yours.

"No, that's is the honor of her father," You told him as you closed your eyes and kissed Lando's lips.

Lando waterly smiles and kisses you again as a nurse comes in holding your daughter.

"Oh, you must be dad," the nurse says as Lando nods and takes the baby from the nurse as she hands his baby over to him. "What would you like to name her?"

"Alaia. Alaia Valeria Norris," Lando doesn't look up from his daughter as he says her name.

You watch on with a smile.

You know Lando panicked the whole way to the hospital that morning and after he left, because he was worried about you, about your daughter, about any complications that might arrive, like that in the delivery of your son.

Another way you are sure is because if you hadn't gotten to the car yourself, you're sure that you would've been forgotten at home until the hospital.

But in the end, it was all worth it. You watched your husband win a race again, and you are watching your little family grow larger with each passing moment.

Every hardship that the two of you had to cross to get here was worth it.

Worth it for the endless love you feel for your growing family.

A/N: The winner of this poll.

Tags: @poppyflower-22 @samantha-chicago @barcelonaloverf1life @tallrock35 @ellen3101 @hellothere9597

If you want to be removed from a tag list, let me know so I don't keep tagging you. If you are striked through, I don't know if you want to be tagged, but just let me know if you want me to continue or stop

[aphroditelovesu]

Yan!Mom Rhaenyra Targaryen/Yan!Dad Laenor Velaryon Headcanons (Platonic)

❝ 🐉— lady l: hi... So, it just freaked me out and I needed to write this, kind of like a base for Valyrian Heritage part 2... I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! ❤️

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, unhealthy platonic relationships, mention of mutilation and war, messy writing.

❝ 🐉pairing: platonic!yan!mom rhaenyra targaryen and yan!dad laenor velaryon x gender neutral!reader, platonic yandere!hotd x gn!reader.

Rhaenyra and Laenor have always gotten along well, although not so close, they were always friendly with each other and even came to an agreement after their marriage. They would live their own lives and be free to love someone else.

The few times they slept together were not for pleasure, but to try to conceive an heir. And it worked, when Rhaenyra discovered she was pregnant just a few months after her wedding, much to everyone's delight.

You were the only child born of their marriage, well, at least the only legitimate one. There was no doubt about your legitimacy, since you were a copy of your father when you were born and became more like your mother as you grew up.

They loved you unconditionally, there are not enough words to describe how much they love you. They say you never love anything on the world the way you love your first child and that's true when it comes to your parents. They love all of their other children, but it's pretty clear how attached they are and favor you more than anyone else.

Laenor is the most attached to you, however, as you were his child. Really his. And although he loved your brothers who were born after you, there was no doubt that he preferred you above them all. You were the apple of your father's eye, you could never do anything wrong in his eyes and he will fight anyone who says otherwise.

Rhaenyra loved you with all her heart, the first moment she placed you in her arms for the first time was like a blessing, a gift from the gods old and new. You were her precious, her most precious treasure and nothing and no one will take you away from her. No one steals what belongs to a dragon and gets away with it.

You were not only spoiled and loved by your parents, but also by your grandparents. Rhaenys and Corlys adored you, simple as that, they spoil you more than anyone and always take you to Driftmark when Rhaenyra allows it. Corlys always makes a point of reminding you of your heritage, that you are a Velaryon, and Rhaenys tries to participate as much as possible in your upbringing.

Viserys loved you deeply too, considering that you are his first grandchild and he tries his best to be present in your life. He would often pick you up and sit with you on the Iron Throne, reminding you that one day everything would be yours. And he doesn't even try to hide his favoritism. He knew that if Aemma was still alive, she would love you as much as he does.

Alicent was excessively attached to you too, and although she had grandchildren of her own, she didn't even try to hide how much she preferred your company. Although she has no patience for children, she loves you with all her heart and strongly believes that Rhaenyra is not a good mother for you, a belief that became stronger after the birth of Jacaerys. Otto encourages Alicent's tendencies while cultivating his.

You were the example for your younger brothers, Jacaerys, being the second child, is the clingiest and most protective towards you. He had you first, so you were his first. Lucerys is extremely possessive of your attention and sulks when others get it. Joffrey is the baby and the youngest and so he wants to receive more attention from you.

Your aunt and uncles were very close to you, mainly due to age and because of Alicent's encouragement, who was always sure that you would grow up surrounded by her children.

Aegon is very emotionally dependent on you and is almost always leaning around you, looking for comfort. Helaena loves you with all her heart, she wants to be by your side all the time and she trusts you completely. Aemond is the closest to you, always seeking comfort and confirmation from you, he wants to impress you at any cost. You didn't spend as much time with Daeron, but he misses you and cherishes the memories he has with you.

You were the anchor of your family after the years passed, the only person capable of bringing them all together. Viserys and you had this in common, the desire to reunite the family and you managed it, although it never lasted for long.

All servants were instructed to do your whims and desires. Laenor and Rhaenyra are extremely protective of you and suspicious of anyone who approaches you, especially if it is one of the Greens.

You loved your family, you really loved them, but sometimes all you wanted was to be free from so much pressure. You found fun and ''freedom'' in associating more with your great-uncle, Daemon, who was always taking you away with him, causing your parents to panic. You always came back unscathed, though.

However, you knew you would have to choose a side. After Aemond's mutilation, you found yourself at an impasse when your father sneaked into your room that night and asked you to run away with him. Running away with him means you would be free from your burdens, but the conflict would never stop and would only escalate.

You didn't have any more time. You had to choose between running away with Laenor and escaping the war or staying with Rhaenyra and dealing with the conflicts between the Blacks and the Greens, as well as your overwhelming and possessive family.

Choosing between your father and mother was never something you thought you would do, until this day. The thought of never being able to see Rhaenyra again and hear her reading to you or never seeing your father teaching you how to fight again filled you with fear and anguish. You knew what you had to do, but could you bear the consequences of your choice?

[lvnleah]

Sunrise Morning’s | Alessia Russo

Based on this request :)

Summary: your 3-year-old twins decide it’s a great idea to wake you and Alessia up and go to the beach.

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A flight to Italy used to be easy for you and your wife Alessia, it was a flight that was just short of three hours but now that you were travelling with your three year old twins the flight felt like it lasted forever.

Your three year old twins, Leo and Emilia, were fairly easy three year olds. You and Alessia had gotten lucky because ever since they were born they had been easy babies.

You were halfway through the flight, there was still an hour to go out of the 2 hours and 30 minutes the flight was. The first hour the twins spent napping, Leo napped on Alessia’s chest and Emilia napped on yours.

“Mama, I hungry!” Emilia whined, slouching in the plane seat, “So bored!”

“Not much longer now, Bubs,” you said, pulling Emilia’s top back down as it slipped up, “Would you like a snack?”

She nodded her head and sat up, you pulled the snack box out of your bag. As you reached for the snack box, Leo’s eyes widened with curiosity. He was sat on Alessia’s lap, still sleepy from his nap as he rested his head against her chest.

Leo had always been more of a Mumma’s boy, he was attached to Alessia and went everywhere with her but he had your personality. However, Emilia was more of a Mama’s girl and was clingy to you. She was the louder one of the pair and was a little chatterbox like Alessia, she even was as clumsy as her Mumma.

Leo’s little fingers pointed at the colourful packaging as he leaned forward, trying to get a better look. Alessia shifted him on her lap, her gentle smile mirroring your own.

“Leo, do you want a snack too?” you asked, opening the box and revealing an assortment of crackers, dried fruit, and mini sandwiches.

Emilia had already grabbed a handful of pretzels and was munching away, her hunger temporarily forgotten as she watched the movie on the screen in front of her.

Leo nodded his head, his dirty blonde curls falling in front of his face. You held the box out to him as he leaned over Emilia, he picked out a few small cookies before going back to resting his head on Alessia’s chest.

After a while, Leo started to squirm in his seat beside Alessia that he had moved to. Emilia was still invested in her movie but Leo was starting to become restless.

“Mama, I’m bored.” Leo whined, “We nearly there yet?”

You glance at Alessia, both of you sharing a knowing look. Travelling with young children was always a ride for sure, and this flight was no exception. You reached into your bag again, pulling out a small colouring book and a set of crayons.

"Hey, Leo," Alessia says, leaning over the seat to hand him the colouring book, "How about we colour together? Look, there's a picture of an airplane!"

Leo's eyes lit up, and he eagerly took the colouring book. Alessia shifted him slightly, making room for him to sit up and colour. Meanwhile, Emilia glances over, intrigued by the activity.

"Can I colour too?" she asked, pulling the earphones out of her ears.

"Of course!" Alessia replied, handing her a crayon. "What colour should we make the sky?"

Emilia chose blue, and soon both twins were engrossed in their colouring. Leo carefully stayed within the lines, while Emilia scribbled with enthusiasm.

As you watched your children, you felt a mix of exhaustion and joy. Flights used to be so much easier when they were babies and sometimes you felt like you were disturbing the people around you.

"Only one more hour," Alessia whispered, “Then we can palm them off on my parents.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You and Alessia had now been in Italy with the twins for a few days now, you’d spent that time visiting Alessia’s family, catching up with them and spending days at the beach. You were staying at her grandparents house and they loved the twins, meaning you and Alessia got some time to yourself.

Over the past couple of days, Emilia and Leo had fallen in love with the beach. You’d spent hours on the beach with them and Alessia’s family, every evening it was all they could talk about.

It was currently five in the morning, Alessia’s arm was draped over your stomach whilst her head rested in the crook of your neck. You heard your bedroom door creak open, the sound of tiny feet tapping against the cold floor tiles followed.

"Mama, Mama!" Leo's voice sounded, barely above a whisper, "Can we go swimming? Please?"

Emilia echoed him, her curls bouncing as she climbed on the bed. "Swimming, Mama!"

You hummed, rubbing your eyes as you rolled over onto your back, “Babies, what are you doing up?”

“We wanna go beach, Mama!” Leo smiled, climbing up and sitting on top of you.

A ground sound from Alessia as Emilia flopped on top of her, her sleepy confusion melted into a soft smile as she reached for Emilia, pulling her into a warm hug.

“Bubs, it’s too early,” Alessia murmured, her hand running through Emilia’s golden curls.

"But the beach!" Leo's eyes widened, and he pointed toward the window. "Look! Beach!”

You sighed, “Guys the sun isn’t even up yet, we need to wait for mr sun to wake up before we can go!”

Emilia’s smile turned into a quivering lower lip, slipping out of Alessia’s grip. “No fair, Mama! We want beach now!”

Leo kicked his legs in protest. “Sunrise takes too long, Mama!”

Alessia sat up, “Leo, no. We don’t kick okay?” She said, a stern look that you could never take seriously on her face, “No kicking.”

“Sorry Mumma,” he mumbled, “I just want to go beach!”

Leo flopped on your chest, “And we can bubba, just not right now.” You calmly explained, kissing his forehead, “We can go later on, how about we cuddle.”

“No!” Emilia whined, “We want beach!”

You glanced at Alessia, who smiled as you sighed. You knew the twins wouldn’t fall back to sleep and they definitely weren’t giving in about the beach any time soon.

"Maybe we should just take them," she whispered. "They won't let us sleep anyway."

You nodded, glancing at the time beside you on the clock. 4:50am. Once the twins had gotten their breakfast, you would make it just in time for sunrise.

“Okay, okay!” You gave in, the twins cheering in unison, “we’ll go to the beach, but first we need breakfast!”

“I love you, Mama!” Leo cheered, wrapping his arms around your neck.

You slipped out of bed and threw on a baggy hoodie and black shorts before carrying Emilia downstairs, Alessia carried Leo close behind you.

The twins sat at the kitchen island, chatting between themselves as they coloured whilst you and Alessia tagged teamed on making breakfast. Alessia made breakfast for you and her while you cut up some fruit and pancakes for the twins.

Before you knew it, it was 5:20am and you were getting the twins ready to head to the beach. You dressed Emilia in a little sundress and Leo in a linen shirt and shorts set.

Alessia secured them in the double stroller, and you set off towards the beach. The air smelled of salt as you walked along the narrow back path that led to the see front. The twins chattered about sandcastles and seashells, their excitement contagious.

As you reached the beach, the sky began to blush with pink and orange hues. The twins squealed, pointing at the water. "Look, Mama! Look!"

You and Alessia settled onto a sun chair together, your toes sinking into the sand. The twins wasted no time getting out of the stroller, their little hands scooping up sand to build castles.

The sun peeked above the horizon, casting a warm glow on the water. You was cuddled into Alessia, your head resting against her chest.

“This is perfect.” She murmured, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“Mumma look!” Emilia called out to Alessia, pointing at her sandcastle, “look at my castle!”

Alessia gasped, matching the little girls enthusiasm, “Wow bubs!” She smiled, “that’s amazing! Are you going to decorate it?”

“Yeah!” Leo nodded his head, “we find some shells!”

The twins ran around, collecting a bucket of shells to decorate their castles with. You and Alessia watched peacefully together as the sun rose around you.

After an hour or so, the twins' energy slowed down and they curled up on the sun chair beside you. Leo yawned, rubbing his eyes. Emilia curled up against him, her thumb in her mouth.

Their little eyelids began to flutter as they drifted off to sleep. Alessia stood up and covered their bodies with her jumper, tucking them in before rejoining you on the sun chair. She laid down on top of you, her head now resting on your chest.

“We’re so lucky,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

You pressed your lips to her forehead. “We are,” you agreed, “I’m glad we came down here.”

You and Alessia laid together, cuddled into each other's embrace, while the twins peacefully slept together. You watched the sunrise, the different shades mixing together, as you talked about your future. Nothing else in the world mattered to you in the moment, only your little family mattered.

[talaok]

Just this once

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!babysitter!reader

Summary: Everyone hates you in town, everyone except for Mr. Miller, who was kind enough to hire you as his daughter's babysitter.

Warnings: mentally and verbally abusive father, angst, unreciprocated love, no happy ending. Smut| oral sex (m receiving), unprotected p in v sex, creampie

Everyone hated you in this town.

Kids at school, moms, dads, even grandparents sometimes.

People crossed the street when they saw you, they waited until you turned around to whisper and scorn to the person beside them.

Everywhere you went, followed dirty looks and rude remarks.

In the hallways at school, at the drug store, pharmacy, park, you name it.

Everywhere, everyone seemed to despise old Carl's daughter just for being born, or maybe, maybe also because of the rumors that spread about her.

Like the one where you dealt drugs, which was not not the truth... but you never dealt meth.

Or the one where you'd fucked half the guys in town,

And least but not last, the one where you were the reason you poor pops had turned to alcohol.

Except they didn't know anything. they didn't know that your "poor pops" had begun his diet of a bottle of whiskey a day long before you were born, that he drove your mom mad to the point where she had fled without so much as a goodbye, leaving behind a few clothes and a stupid scrap of paper where she had written a fucking lie.

I love you

If she had actually loved you, she wouldn't have left.

And they didn't know that all the anger your father had, had turned to you, they didn't know how scary it was, to be afraid of your own father, to be alone at the age of thirteen, to have to take care of yourself, to have to grow up faster than you should.

They all hated you, and you didn't care, you swore you didn't care, because they didn't know, they didn't know shit.

But Mr. Miller was different.

He was the only person, together with his daughter, who had ever shown you kindness, the real kind.

He had seen you sobbing as you ran from your house after your dad had another one of his "episodes".

And god, you were so confused when he stopped you, when he put a hand on your shoulder and asked if everything was alright.

And you didn't tell him then, you didn't tell him everything that was going on and that your dad was an asshole and that your life was hell, you couldn't, there was always this everlasting shame fizzing underneath your skin whenever you felt the need to share. But he hadn't cared, he hadn't cared that you had told him nothing, he hadn't cared that all you did was say sorry and I need to go, because with just a glance it felt like he had seen right through you.

So then he'd told you where he lived, and even if that time he couldn't convince you to come in, it was you who showed up at his doorsteps two nights after, asking for a place to sleep which he offered without so much as a question.

And it was only a week later when you told him everything.

He had sat and listened as you cried and cried, he had stroked your hair and given you tissues, until finally, he offered you a job.

Babysitting his kid.

And you were scared at first, you weren't really equipped for the job, but the moment you met Sarah you realized just how easy it was gonna be.

taking care of her was fun, and it gave you an excuse to be away from your own home, sometimes even at night when the mere thought of seeing your father made you want to puke.

And Mr. Miller was always nice, he made breakfast, overpaid you like crazy, and he listened, he was always there to listen.

"dad, what are you talking about?" 

Mr. Miller's backyard was always perfectly mowed, and the treehouse he'd built his daughter stood high on the oak in the middle of it.

"I said-" even if you couldn't see him, you swore he was taking another gulp straight from the bottle " Where the fuck are you?" 

"I'm working dad, I told you" you said, trying to remain as calm as possible.

"You working?" he laughed "That's funny" he said, as his laugh turned into a disgusting cough "Tell me where you really are." his voice was slurry, but the anger in it still made you shiver "You at one of your boyfriends' houses?"

"No Dad, I'm at Mr. Miller's house" you sighed, it was sad really, how used you were to this by now.

"Mr. Miller huh?" a hiccup sounded through the phone "You fucking him too? You started going for older guys? Is that it? I bet that's it you little slut" he hissed "Your mother would be so disappointed... to see her only daughter grow up to be such a fucking whore"

There's a difference, when it's strangers calling you names, and when it's your own father.

You'd always wished his words didn't affect you, but somehow, they always found a way to hurt.

No matter how tough you made yourself to be, when it was him, you felt like a kid all over again.

"fuck you" you muttered, as tears pricked your eyes 

"Is that how you talk to your father you little bitch? Just wait till you come home, I'll see what you'll have to say then-"

And there were so many things you wanted to tell him, to scream at him, to drill into his non-existing brain, but all you did was press the red button and hung up.

And it took about a second before the tears started flowing like rivers.

You ran back inside the house, forgetting all about closing the glass door as you curled into a ball on the couch, trying to cry as silently as you could, so that Sarah wouldn't wake up.

You hated him. You hated everything, you just wanted to run away and start a new life somewhere else, Canada, Austria, even the fucking north pole sounded better than this.

You were just so tired, so exhausted. Every time you talked to your father all the energy you had, or thought you had left, got drained from your body, and for hours, you remained lifeless,

The only exception was when-

The front door opened, and those purposely quiet footsteps that you would have recognized anywhere, followed soon after.

Him, the only exception was when he was there to comfort you.

You sat up, quickly wiping your tears to try and look somewhat presentable.

"hey," he whispered, entering the living room "Sarah's asleep?"

"mh-mh, yes" you nodded

"I'm sorry I came home this late, it's just that the guys wanted to go out after work and I always tell them no..." he trailed off, as he sat next to you and got rid of his overused boots.

"I-It's not a problem, Mr. Miller"

He shook his head, smiling in that charming way of his as he sat his shoes next to the coffee table and turned to look at you.

"How many times have I told you that you can just call me J-"

But his words died in his throat the moment he caught a glimpse of your red, puffy eyes, (that he'd come to know too well) and of that look on your face.

"What happened?"

They were such simple words, but they hit like tnt too close to a dam, breaking the barrier and causing all the water to run out.

His arms were around you the moment the first tear fell.

"shh" he cooed, stroking your back as you sobbed into his chest "It's alright, everythin's alright, sweetheart"

You wrapped your arms around his broad torso, feeling all his muscles underneath the fabric as you drowned in his scent. He always smelt so manly and so... good.

"I-I'm sorry it's just" A sob climbed up your throat "He-he called and I-I" You never finished the sentence as other tears started flowing from your eyes.

"I'm sorry honey" he cooed, placing his cheek on top of your head"it's ok" he murmured "It's all gonna be fine, I promise"

"w-when?" you cried, finally looking up at him "I'm so tired of this Mr. Miller..."

"soon" he promised "You're a smart girl, you'll get far in life sweetheart, I just know it"

you breathed heavily into his chest for a few minutes, listening to his heart beat as you calmed your own.

"t-thank you" you sniffled

"of course, darlin'"

And as you glanced at him, at his soft beard, at his kind eyes, your brain short-circuited and your mouth got a mind of its own, and before you realized it, your lips were on his.

And god he felt so good

"y/n-" he spoke as you tried to deepen the kiss "What are you doing?"

"I just-" you stuttered, not able to tear your glaze off his soft lips "please" you murmured, not knowing what else to say as you leaned up to kiss him again,

"sweetheart this ain't right I-"

"please Mr. Miller" you begged, placing your hand on his shoulder and pecs, as you left a quick kiss on his lips again "please just this once"

"y/n..." he tried to speak but was interrupted by your mouth finding his neck.

"please" you repeated for the thousandth time, your breath fanning over his neck "just this one time" 

"darlin'... I don't know if this is a good idea"

"it is" you quickly corrected him, your kisses lowering down his body, until all you could do was shuffle off the couch to get between his parted legs "it's a really good idea"

You saw him swallow thickly at the sight before him

"no sweetheart, you don't gotta do that"

"I want to" you reassured him, hurriedly undoing his belt and zipper until his black boxers were all that obstructed your view.

You palmed his manhood through the fabric, feeling it harden underneath your palm, before you gently took it out, looking up at him for approval as you wrapped one hand around it and let your lips follow suit.

A loud shuddering breath fled his mouth as you fitted more and more of him into your mouth, and you took it as an incentive to get lower, fully choking on his cock.

"f-fuck" he groaned

You started bobbing your head up and down, your eyes never leaving the sight of him breathing heavily before you.

You were doing good, but you wanted to do amazing for Mr. Miller, so you gingerly took his cock out of your mouth to start a slow trail of kisses and kitty lips down the whole length of him, until you reached his balls, and without a second thought, reserved them of the same treatment, before starting to suck on those too.

"fuck. me." he breathed, throwing his head back as he shut his eyes.

You leaned away for a moment, still pumping him with your hand "Does it feel good?" you asked

"fuck-yeah sweetheart" he gulped, looking down at you "it feels real fucking good- you're-fuck-you're amazing"

The biggest smile ever spread on your face at that, and with a renewed vigor, you got back to sucking his balls even better.

series of profanities continued coming out of his mouth as you got back to his dick, letting your tongue run on his tip for a few moments before getting back to filling your mouth with it.

You watched his hands curl by his sides, and without thinking, you let one of your own travel to his, softly placing your palm over it in a makeshift hold, which wasn't really a hold because he didn't turn his hand to do it properly.

But it didn't matter now, he was enjoying this, something you were doing for him, something you had dreamed of doing to him times and times again, and that's all you cared about.

You bobbed your head for a few more moments before you leaned away and quickly got up to get rid of your pants.

He watched you, too fucked out and torn with guilt and confusion to understand anything anymore, step out of your panties, place your hands on his shoulders, and straddle him.

you reached down for his dick, and without too much of a premise, sank down on it.

"oh god" you moaned, stopping a moment to take a deep breath at the feeling, as a low groan rumbled in his chest.

"you feel so good" you murmured, kissing him passionately as you started riding him.

His hands gripped your waist as a way for him to try and ground himself back on this earth because fuck but, you felt fucking good too

"touch my tits please" you said, ghosting his mouth.

"Sweetheart..."

"Please, Mr. Miller" you pouted, rising and sinking from his cock even faster

"Joel- please call me Joel" 

"Please Joel, touch my tits"

And who was he to say no to you when you asked him like that?

One of his big strong hands seeped underneath your top and found your boobs, stroking and grabbing at them heavenly.

You couldn't help but gasp at the mix of pleasures, your head falling to the crook of his neck.

The sound bouncing off the walls of the living room was straight out dirty and the breeze coming from the open glass door on your left softly floated through the room, at times hitting your raw skin.

"oh my god" you whimpered, muffled by Joel's skin "o-oh my"

He was filling every inch of you, stretching you so fucking good it made you want to scream if it wasn't for Sarah sleeping just upstairs.

You lost yourself in him, in his soft grunts, in his most raw scent, in the way his beard rutted against your cheek, and slowly, slowly you felt a bubble form in your belly, getting more and more ready to explode.

"F-fuck" you whined, "I-I think I'm-I'm coming"

His only response was to tighten his hold on you, before you fastened your pace, desperately chasing your high.

your breathing got even heavier as you remerged from his neck to look at him in the eyes and meet his lips with yours once again.

Kissing his was like traveling to another universe, he was just so... perfect

 "Joel" you whispered, losing yourself in his hazel eyes, as the pleasure got stronger and stronger until you felt like you could barely breathe "Joel I love you"

You watched his eyes widen slightly but before he could speak your orgasm took over your body and you had to hide your head in the crook of his neck again to try not to moan too loud.

"it's ok" he murmured, placing a hand on the back of your head soothingly "It's all gonna be ok sweetheart"

You rode out your high, never stopping your movements, and by the time you had come down from it, Joel was on the verge of it.

"shit-I'm coming" he groaned "Where do you want it?"

 "inside" you whispered without missing a beat

"I c-can't honey-"

"please Joel" you whimpered, starting to get overstimulated "Please fill me up, Joel"

And with that simple sentence, he was done for.

"fuck-shit. shitshitshitshit" That's all he managed to spit out, as ropes of his come filled you up to the brim, just like you wanted.

You took a moment to compose yourself, inhaling his scent one more time, before you slowly got off of him.

And as you did, the moment it was all done, a strange sensation overtook you.

you'd thought that this was all you wanted, that this was gonna make you feel better, and yet... yet you couldn't help but feel like a piece of you was missing, you couldn't help but feel emptier than you were to begin with.

As you watched him hurry to put his boxers back on, you couldn't help but think that, once again, you had managed to fuck everything up.

[arminsumi]

growing up with gojo satoru.

NOTE: it's a trash draft abt growing up with gojo and he had a crush on u since ever or smth idk i think it's a potential backstory for a fic?? 👍🗑️

you and satoru have known each other since you were toddlers because the gojo family and your family are very close. he was born just two years after you.

growing up, he was the richest and snobbiest and snottiest. but he could be charming if he needed to be. formal when he needed to be. just not to you, his closest friend. his only friend growing up.

satoru greatly enjoyed picking on you. he annoyed you to death. chasing you down the halls while your parents had tea together. tripping you. ruffling your hair. stealing your sweets and putting them above his head once he had hit that big growth spurt and you could no longer reach them. "accidentally" spilling tea all over your new kimonos. bringing bugs to you just to freak you out.

but that was just all the annoying childhood memories that you dwelled on. if you asked your parents, you'd hear stories of how you and satoru were inseparable; jointed at the hip, the one never strayed too far from where the other was. where you went, he followed without missing a step and vice versa. often you'd be holding hands without realizing. you remember your grandparents laughing and teasing the two of you about that many times, and then you and satoru would throw each other disgusted looks and let go of each other's hands — only to resume that fingerlocking a few minutes later. it was subconscious for him to stick so close to you.

dwelling on the bad memories detracted you from remembering all the good memories.

the times satoru comfortingly slept at your side when you stayed the night during a thunderstorm at his house. all the times he stood up for you and faced off with that brat sukuna. how suguru would console and hug you while satoru threw fists with the other boy; always, always emerging victorious and bearing a triumphant, almost cocky smirk at you. albeit with blood dribbling out of his nose. you remember sukuna always picking on you, but not in the way satoru did; he had a malicious way about it, but satoru's teasing was playful and even cute. he was tasteful with his jokes, never falling victim to crudeness or vulgarity, never genuinely offending you.

and satoru's mother really liked to bring up that satoru had a "boyish crush" on you around the ages 10 - 14. she mentioned it at dinner all the time, when he was reaching the ages of 16 - 18 it really annoyed him.

"i did not have a crush on bugface." he would always deny it. ah, that ancient nickname, the one that still got on your nerves. and it came to be all because a bug landed on your cheek one day at the riverbank and you didn't notice until satoru pointed it out and burst with laughter.

satoru was gifted. you know, a child prodigy. he was the strongest. and growing up with him, he always used his gifts and strength to protect and care for you, whether it was physically or mentally. throwing fists with people who picked on you, acting like your bodyguard at times even if a boy simply wanted to ask you out on a date. studying with you until you aced your papers so that the both of you could go to the same high prestigious high schools.

albeit he was a bit enigmatic with how he showed his care. it was in the little things. helping you out the river when you fell in when you were twelve, confronting sukuna while you cried in suguru's arms about what he had said about your family, or picking blossoms out your hair.

that last one was something he continued to do through his whole life. whenever a blossom or leaf tangled into your hair, or got caught on your clothes, satoru would very gently pluck it off. he did it so smoothly that you never noticed he was doing it. though sometimes, you'd look at him suspiciously and ask why he was standing so close to you. he'd flick his brows up and hum "nothing."

[shuenkio]

Honeymoon 🌹

Paring: Heeseung X male!reader

Genre: Fluff & Smut

Cw: heavy nsfw ;) cum inside, belly bulge, unprotected sex etc

Summary: You want to ride that crazy cow ride, so hee offers you a free ride.

Read at your own risk.

Word: 2.5k

Lack of massive perfect words, pardon me if it overdoes [words]

Getting married to Heeseung after knowing each other for quite some time was a great experience. He was lovely, is a gentleman, loves to take care of you, and he's also a grandma's boy. You've never seen him cursing or doing dirty stuff like normal adults do; instead, he was soft toward you, as if you were his diamond. Or maybe he never showed up? 

He decided to take you to his home for your Honey Moon together since he wanted to show you where he was growing up. 

You agreed without any second thought; before the next thing you know, you're already standing under the hot sunlight, shining through your hat. The wind, the fresh air, and the summer felt so ascending. 

"This is amazing, hee!" You said as you breathed in the cold breeze to your lungs. This is better than city life 360°. 

"I know you would like it, Bob. Now let's go to my grandparents's house; we're going to stay there for a few days." He uttered as a soft smile spread over his face, signing in relief as you loved his idea of coming here.

Arriving at the destination, Heeseung's grandparents immediately came out and greeted both of you with a warm welcome. Not only do they support you, but they also love you as if you're their grandchild and treat you like everyone else. 

They help to move your luggage and stuff, even though you insist they should not; however, it won't work for them. They also prepared your shared room with Heeseung with a lot of decorations that fit your personality, which show how much they're dragged into your background. 

Thanking them is not enough; you want to pay back for all their hard work by showing your gratitude. Again, they won't let you, as they said your presence was more than enough for them. You were touched by their words, as you're on the edge of a crying river, but Heeseung was there to comfort you, or else you would look so ugly in front of them. They're so sweet. 

During the day, after spending a night at Heeseung's grandparent's house, they suggested your husband take you somewhere nice for your honeymoon because Heeseung is an outside person. He knew a lot of places, and he was born here too, so don't question him. 

Your husband thought for a while before making up his mind by taking you to the racetrack, where people love going there for horse riding, competition, bets for money, and many more thrilling events. 

Your eyes filled with sparks when he recommended Racetrack for your date. You immediately said yes in an aggressive, cute manner. He was giggling at your reaction, smiling from ear to ear as he adored you even more. 

"Okay, then let's go!" 

At the racetrack. 

Heeseung brought two tickets for both of you for the show of horse racing. The horse racing was epic; you've never seen such a thing like this before since you're a city boy. 

Now you've realized that this is better than any sports you've watched, and you prefer watching this instead of football because, why not? This is so addictive; riding at a fast pace, reaching for the goal, definitely gives the rollercoaster feeling. 

The show comes to an end with a winner, the one you're rooting for as You scream in victory and celebrate the moment with other people. Your lover was standing there beside you, a bit jealous that you forgot about him; however, he just shrugged it off and formed a delightful smile. Seeing you're happy makes him happy too, putting jealousy back away. 

--- 

Making your way back home, out of the venue, your eyes suddenly lay on a carnival event. It's a crazy cow ride, where many people come to challenge a bull machine that moves at a wild speed. You release your hand from your husband's grip before running to see. I left Heeseung all alone once again as he scoff in upset with your childish behavior. 

"Love! Love, can I ride that?? It's so cool." You said your eyes turned into stars watching the kids ride that crazy machine. Heeseung narrowed his eyebrow and took a closer look as he shook his head as a sign of no. 

"Awwae, why not? I want to ride that, please." You beg, with your puppy eyes, for your husband's permission, but still, he's disagreeing. As he intertwined your hand, taking you home.

"Nope bob! It's getting late now, and that thing looks dangerous. You don't want to end up at the hospital, don't you?" He responds, barely looking at you while he's talking, which upsets you even more. 

"But come on, love, it was once. I swear, I rarely come to a place like this. Give your husband a chance, please." You left no choice but to try all your methods to melt his heart, but nothing seemed to work on him; he was already ignoring you. 

You pout in disappointment; let it be as you let out a heavy sign as a result. 

A few minutes later, he suddenly spoke. 

"There's something you can ride at home; stop sulking or I'll kiss your swollen lips." He finally broke his silence. In return, a joyful frown appears on your face, jumping in happiness.

"Really, but what kind? Like that machine one? There's another place nearby your grandparents house." You started to question him with a lot of questions. He answered with only one word. 

"You'll see yourself, and it's also the real one." Heeseung replies, bending down to your level before whispering to your ear in a low, seductive tone. His hot breath hits your skin, giving you unexpected goosebumps.

"Tsk, I'll look forward to it then, but if you're lying to me, you're dead." 

Walking into the room, you throw your body on the soft king bed size; you didn't even bother to get changed since you're too tired to do so. You nuzzle your face, dipping to the bed sheet, breathing in no space air, before you feel a warm hug pressed behind your back with his head brushing into the crooked of your neck. 

"Hmm?" You hum in response, asking what he wanted, until something poked hard underneath your tailbone. You immediately open your eyes from your rest, knowing too well what exactly he wants. 

"Hee?"

"Yea?" 

"..."

"Sigh* yes, I want to start this with you, love." Heeseung said, his tone almost sounding guilty. You roll your eyes, lost in thought, asking him to leave your body. As you turn around, look at your surroundings. 

"Bu-.. Y'know, are you thinking what I am thinking? This is your grandparents house." You utter, almost whisper, anxious at the idea that someone might catch both of you doing this couple stuff in the house, especially his grandparents. 

Heeseung laughed under his throat, with a mix of excitement and humor. He moved closer to you as he cupped your face, looking at your endearment. 

"Love! Once I closed this room's door, not even a single fly could interrupt us. This room is noisy.  proof even if you're scream nobody gonna hear ya~" Heeseung mutters as his gaze grows darker at the thought of having you under him. You almost jaw-dropped upon hearing the dirty talk from your husband. This is probably just the beginning; what will come more once he gets full control of you?

"Wow, you're something darling, I have never seen you're like this before." You stutter. His eyes are burning, full of lust and desire, like a wolf wanted to breed its mate, dominant them until they're satisfied. 

You move backwards using the strength in your arm until your back hits the headboard. 

"I want to make sure, do you really want to have s- uh se-" 

"Yes, I want to fuck you, mn! Don't be shy; this is our honeymoon after all, didn't it?" He smirked as his hand traced down on your skin in ecstasy. Your breath hitched at his touch; he was so good at this. Not even a day you'd thought one day you would have sex with him, since he's too good at hiding his wild side. 

"Now do I have your permission, my love?" He licks his lip, patting like a puppy, as he feels like his bulge is getting more painful in these clothes. 

You nod slowly and accept your fate. Heeseung is full of surprises. Even though you're now his husband, there are too many things he is hiding from you for real. 

He began to take your clothes off piece by piece until you left with nothing but a naked body, which turned him on even more at your milky smooth skin. The heat in his body is getting out of control, begging to claim you sooner. 

He soon ripped out his t-shirt and unbuckled his belt.Now both of your clothes are all over the floor, and your two naked bodies lie on the bed, ready for the real moment to start. 

"One moment, mn." Heeseung stood up on his feet, went to close the door, and locked it as he found something in his bag. Then he pulled out a labricate.

Your mind went blank. Question yourself about how the hell he had that without your knowing. As you deep down in your mind, you remember the word he said—that he would take you to the crazy cow ride—but look at you and him now—very unholy. 

Unexpectedly, He pulls your hip with both of his hands, making your head fall to the pillow. He positions himself in front of your entrance as he puts liquid on his huge cock and your hole.

"Hee hee, this is my first time!" You state it out of the blue, which makes him tilt his head in return. You expect a shock reaction from him; however, instead of confusion, a big grin spread across his face. He looks really happy right now after hearing that. 

"Even better, love; don't worry, I'll be gentle." 

You gulp down, ready for what is coming for you, with a mix of thrilling and nervous. 

Without further ado, he put a tip inside you, and as a result, the two of you moan in unison. His head was big enough to spread your hole, rolling his hip to warm you up to get used to his massive size. 

"Please put it in Heeseung; I want you." Your words slipped out of your mouth after you adjusted to the warm skin inside your asshole. His crotch was so big that you wanted them pulsing inside you to ruin your beautiful pink hole. 

Heeseung didn't waste his time, pushing his shaft all inside in a swift motion. Once he's fully in, he begins to move slowly, still respecting your first-time experience. 

His cock is not going to lie; feel too good for you to not grip on the bedsheets underneath. He's making your body tremble and shiver as a small belly bulge is visible on your skin, even though he's just pushing at a slow pace. 

"Faster love! I want faster; I don't care anymore." You said this as you were still catching your breath at his slower speed. What will happen if he pounds on you like an animal? 

"Your wish is my command, my little husband," he said, squeezing tight on your leg and throwing both of your legs on his shoulder. The next thing you know, he slams his crazy big cock inside you at rapid speed. Not even warning you. 

Thumps thumps

The wet noise started to occur in the empty room, and with every pound he pushed in, his lower abdomen was always pressed against your butt cheeks, making you squirm in no time. 

His cock spread your wall, almost tearing you into two, but as he continued to fuck you in, the painful feeling faded away, leaving only the arousal inside. Since this is your first time, naturally, your ass is clenching on his cock like a baby grip. 

He cried out in gasps; your hole sent a shockwave to him. As he continues to grind his hip, jerking inside you, chasing for pleasure and climax,. 

He increases his speed with every thrust once he gets full control and access to your body when your entrance gets used to his cock. 

You catch out of your guard, and after he quickly changes his position, he puts you on top of his stomach, still buried inside of you, as he lay on the bed instead. 

"You said you want to ride a crazy cow ride; go on~ ride me as you please, babe!" Your eyes went wide, realizing he's behind this. Your gaze softens, leaning down before you bite his bottom lip, kissing him in passionate tension. You no longer be mad at him because he's making you feel good right now. He returned your kiss, lurking his tongue inside your mouth with his wet saliva, eating you two in one at the same time. 

"Fuck uhh," you quake, feeling a jolt send all over your body as your body signals your about to cum. 

"Hee-ahh, narggg, I will cum on you. You want it?" You become more breathless with every thrust he pushes in, his finger still busy spreading your hole to take him all in. 

"Don't hold back, love~ cum for me; now would you like it if I filled you in?" He's too close to the edges, hitting you in every sweet spot. He asked for your permission once again if he could spill his cum inside your hole. You nod aggressively without even answering him. 

In the very last few final thrusts, his tip crushed on your G-spot, making you go insane for a sec, as your cum splashed out on his toned abs, unable to hold in. 

"HOLY MOTHER FUCKER AHHH," your chest heaving in an error motion as you arch your back, throwing your face above the ceiling, to the sensitive pleasure he's pushing you in. 

"Ah-... Ahhh, mn, I'm comming b-brace yourself." With another one last push, his cock started to twitching as the warm, hot seed filled you in. He let out a heavy moan, like vomit, as he reached his goal. 

You collapse on his body while his cock falls out of your hole, like a river of cum dripping out of your entrance. 

"That was one of the hell rides, mn? How do you feel, Mn? Am I hurting you?" He presses a kiss on your forehead as he holds on to your waist, supporting your weight on his. 

You inhale and exhale, rolling your eyes to the back of your brain, still feeling it. 

"I never know. Fuck feel this good." 

"So you want another round, mn?" 

"No, but I want you in." 

"Like, what love?" He asked your unfinished question. You couldn't explain what your desire was to him, so you snaked your hand before grabbing his cock and pushing inside of you again. 

"I love how you feel inside; please don't pull out." You responded embarrassed, covering your face in his chest. He snorted at your reaction and boldness, as he started to love this side of you. 

"Anything you want, little one~ not to mention that I could be there forever if you insist." 

🗣️ please mind my English! ><

🗣️Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥

🗣️ crd to all pics&dividers

[terrible-eel]

I may be too stressed to articulate this clearly but I am going to try.

While Hawai'i and Maui are trending I'm going to share this link. Its a FAQ about Hawai'i's statehood and the situation Hawai'i is in at the moment. There are people who want to be part of the U.S in Hawai'i and there are people who don't, but the people of Hawai'i were never, at any point, given an option to choose.

If you want to help Hawai'i and it's people but can't donate, spread this word. Help educate people. Make Hawai'i as the tropical paradise be replaced with the sovereign nation stolen by the u.s.

It is subtropical, meaning it is much more vulnerable to arid climates caused by climate change.

It has been systematically stripped of its native food harvesting practices and any ability to farm and self sustain. It has been systematically stripped of its previous industries. Maui used to export milk and cattle. That's all been taken away.

The islands since the 1800s were exploited as plantations, burning sugar cane and growing pineapples which are not native, diverting the water and depleting the water table.

Lahaina burned because of these practices. Because the native people were no longer allowed to govern their lands.

We as local people know that tourism is bad because this systematic destruction has happened in living memory. Within my grandparent's lifetimes, within my lifetime. I have watched this island crumble at the hands of mainland startups, hoping to take people on whale watching tours that cut the whales with their boats while people aren't allowed to have a ferry between islands. People create ziplines and tours through lands that used to belong to local people for farming and cattle. Now they're bought out for photos and hikes the local people can never afford. Hundreds of jobs have been lost in the past thirty years. Mass migrations to the mainland have been made by local people, myself included because we can no longer afford to stay on the island where we were born. Working three jobs is not enough to cover the rent because the houses are bought up by mainland people who then turn these houses into vacation rentals and charge hundreds a night. Right now these very homes are being paid for by the government so that Lahaina people have somewhere to stay and it's costing the state millions that people in the mainland are reeping.

People ask why tourism is bad. Because there are people alive today on Maui that have watched the foreign industries destroy everything. Because people alive today know what used to be and knew how to take care of the ecosystem so that this kind of calamity didn't happen. Lahaina was not just fertile. They had canals and waterways. Rivers that they would drive boats through to go from one part of town to another. It was more like Venice than this desert you see in pictures.

And do your own research. The information is out there. There are two Hawai'i's. The one you see as a tourist, and the REAL one. The one we need to protect.

Let Hawaiians have their land back. Let them restore the water to the land so we can prevent further catastrophe. Tell people about REAL Hawaii.

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

it's like. okay. imagine you're a little lonely kid, because you don't have any friends, because day care and preschool is expensive, and your parents didn't beat teen pregnancy so they're always working crazy hours and leaving you alone with an elderly neighbor. and then one day you meet a best friend right. you and this girl are immediately ride or die for each other. cannot be separated for more than a few hours without crying. she's everything you want to be and you're everything she wants to be. and you're with each other for everything- she's there when your brother is born, you're there when her dad leaves. you start school together. gripping each other's hands the entire time. she comes over every day because her mom works even more than your parents do. and you love that! more time with your favorite person! and your parents adore her, too. and you love that! everyone you love fits at the little picnic table in the kitchen that your dad dragged in when he found it on the side of the street one day. she comes with you to visit your grandparents and goes on family vacations with you, she goes shopping with you, she goes to all the little kiddie activities with you- dancing, t-ball, art, singing, soccer, cheerleading, you're always together. and everyone knows you're a package deal. and so, naturally, people start comparing the two of you often. and you don't mind! they don't mean it in a mean way, the two of you can just be very different sometimes! light and dark, rain and sun, that sort of thing. it makes sense that you'd have different strengths. except you start getting older, and you start noticing it's a little different. like, you're good at things, but you aren't anything special at anything. you have straight a's, but you're not considered smart enough for the nerds. people like you, but you aren't popular. no one ever seems to know if you're joking or if you're just stupid. people start telling you they like you- but in smaller doses. you're pretty, but you aren't beautiful. but your best friend is beautiful, and your best friend is cool, and she's smart, and she's talented at everything she tries. and it's- it's different. her mom works a lot and doesn't get to spend enough time with her, and that's a tragedy. but your mom works a lot and doesn't spend a lot of time with you, and that's normal, and you shouldn't complain, because you have it better than her. people tell you that all the time. her life is harder than yours and you have to be gentle with her feelings- and they didn't even need to tell you that, you would never want to make her feel bad! and you give her everything you can, a space in your home, half your food, half your parents attention, and you know she hears people compare the two of you and it makes her feel bad, too (you don't understand why, when she's always the one they prefer), but so you start making sure she has things that are JUST hers. like, you were good at art before, but she's incredible at it, so you give up and just mess around in class, to the point where no one would even bother comparing you there. it's all for her. you would drop anything for her in a heartbeat and you'd never complain about it. and you know she'd do the same for you, just, you haven't found anything that you need to be all yours yet! and that's fine! except one day you meet this boy, right? and he's charming and tall and the way he smiles at you makes you wanna faint a little. he rides a horse through the school for you. he tells you he wants to kiss you. he tells you you bring out the best in him. when he looks at you you feel like you're the only person in the room, and you've never felt like that before. you've always felt your best friend connected at your hip and getting half the attention. you think this is it, this blooming romance, that's your thing, your one thing that is all yours, and you love it! it's exciting, it's relieving, not being compared to your best friend for once, and now you know why she needs art like air. everything is great.

except- except. as you get older, you notice somethings get more stark, right? like, your mom, she loves you, and you know she's busy, but you can't help but notice how she'll drop anything for your brother, or your dad, or your best friend, or your brother's best friend, but whenever you need her for something she brushes you off onto the first person she can. and your dad would do anything for you, drop anything, so it's fine, really it is, but sometimes when you're in a bad mood, you can't help but think about how you have your dad but your best friend has her mom and both your parents. you don't think her mom even likes you- she made fun of you when you were upset about being bullied. you think it's weird that a grown woman would do that, but your mom laughed along with her, so maybe you're being dramatic. people tell you you're dramatic a lot, so that would make sense. hell, maybe you weren't even getting bullied, maybe you took the class saying they 'liked you, but didn't care who played you' the wrong way! wouldn't be the first time! maybe it's like how your friends never want you to be sad- they do this thing where they try and hide things from you, and mostly you think it's dumb and just play along, because when you're in a bad mood they feel bad- so, maybe the rest of the class just meant it like that? not that they didn't care about you, just that they needed someone like you! and it's always nice being needed, right? you have to stop being surprised when people like your best friend more than you. YOU like her more than you like yourself. it's not a big deal.

except. well. you start noticing something between her and your boyfriend. looks, small comments, nothing major! they're friends too, they have to be, because they love you, and you tell yourself not to be dramatic about it, because she would never! you would never do that to her and she would never do that to you- but then she tells you she has feelings for him, that she wants him, and. well. you always give her what she wants. you'd give up anything for her. so you pretend it's not a big deal, even though you feel a little shattered inside, because if he wants her than he was never yours anyway. if he was yours in the first place then she never would have wanted him. why bother! but then you're forced to bother, because they're told you still have feelings for him, and- why does that matter. they didn't care about hurting your feelings when they were flirting in front of you, did they? why would your feelings stop them from dating? did they think you could just turn your heart off like a light switch? but he's insisting he doesn't want to end things with you. and he still makes you feel lightheaded. and...you still want him to be yours. in spite of your best friend's feelings. everyone around the three of you act like this love triangle is your fault, that you're the one holding onto him with claws, that you inserted yourself, but you tried. you tried to back out and leave them be and they wouldn't let you. having the boy who made you feel like your own person compare you to your other half is your absolute nightmare. you understand why he loves her. you understand why she loves him. you don't understand why they're dragging you along, kicking and screaming, why they can't just put you out of your misery. but your heart still hurts, and you were raised by hopeless romantics, so as long as there's a chance, you can't let yourself leave. your mom tells you there was a girl in the mountains one time- maybe this is just that. maybe he's still yours.

but as you get older, it gets- worse. you had to ask your best friend for permission to redecorate your own bedroom. she had a meltdown. everyone sided with her. you tried to make the cheerleading team- everyone comforted her, when you were the one sad about it. the two of you stay in the hole the first day of high school- but everyone is only mad at you about it. you don't even know what about that upset everyone. just that no one was mad at her. no one's ever mad at her, no matter how dumb her emotional outbursts are. she gets one good grade and people parade around her like a toddler taking it's first steps, you get one bad grade and everyone tells you you aren't trying hard enough. she says she's in a destructive move and ends up graffitiing a playground and damn near gets a medal from the mayor, but when you were in a bad mood and ate another friend's cookie everyone acted like you killed someone. all of your friends start acting like its such a chore to be around you, your mother starts getting more short and demanding with you, only getting involved in your life when you don't want her to, your dad starts acting disappointed in you and only knows how to speak in historical references he never explains. you tell your boyfriend that you want him to call you his girlfriend, and then your best friend says she wants to be called his 'girlfriend, equally as much', and you manage not to scream, because she already has more than an equal share of EVERYTHING in your life. he was your boyfriend first and people STILL look at you as if this stupid triangle is your fault, when she's the one who couldn't put her feelings aside for you like you've been doing for her your whole life. everyone sees how this situation is affecting her, she's quieter, her spark is dimmed, and it makes you wanna sob seeing her like that, but why won't anyone notice how bad it's affecting you? why are her feelings always more important? why are you the asshole for not wanting to share your boyfriend with her? she's the one who injected herself into the relationship. and then when he finally, finally, nearly a YEAR LATER announces he's picked you, he loves you, he wants to be with you and only you...he admits that he had to weigh scales to pick between you and your best friend. it was never down to feelings, he didn't have some huge epiphany about how much you mean to him, about how special you are, there was just one extra jellybean in the stupid bag. your friend immediately acts like she's over it, like her crush on him is gone, and you're sure she's lying but. at this point you don't care about her feelings anymore! you are so blindly disappointed in her and your boyfriend but you accept that stupid jellybean because otherwise you just went through a year of hell for nothing, and you can't let that be the case. this is the only fucking time someone has ever picked you over her. and you are going to relish in it if it kills you. no matter how underwhelming it is, someone likes you better than her. a feat even you couldn't accomplish. even if it's just an extra jellybean.

I'm SORRY for girl meets world posting in 2024 I just really believe Riley Matthews deserved to throw a few punches.