#think we all should really work to live more like that - where others finding their value is valuable to all of us

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ Somewhere Only We Know ♡

♡ Pairings: artist!boyfriend!hyunjin x fem!reader

♡ Genre: fluff

♡ Summary: Things have been hard for you lately so you retreat to your boyfriend's apartment where you find all of the love and reassurance a girl could ask for.

♡ Word Count: 1.2k-ish

♡ Warnings: None really but reader's been going through a lot so she is indeed a little sad tonight.

♡ A/N: This is a request from @jehhskz who I promised to write a literary hug for so I really hope I lived up to my promise. Thanks so much for the request you beautiful human.

The night hangs quietly over Hyunjin’s loft, the fresh earthy post rain air gradually filling the space. Seated at his desk facing the open window, Hyunjin hums along to the music flowing from the record player tucked in a nearby corner. Before him on the desk sits an open sketchbook, textured canvas paper coated in a gradient of pastels that mirror the night sky.

And seated on the floor between his legs, wrapped up cozy and warm in his favorite blanket, is you. Working with his pastels typically dictates that Hyunjin use two hands but tonight he makes due with one, the other preoccupied with more important things like playing with your hair or tracing the contours of your face.

With your head resting against his inner thigh he can only reach one side of your face but that’s more than enough room for him to silently praise those beautiful features that take up more space in his mind than you know. The tips of his fingers are delicate, each brush of them across your skin so deliberate that it’s almost as if you’re one of his paintings. 

Lately it seems that the whole world’s caving in on you. The pressures of life have begun to take their toll and it’s all so much…too much. What you’ve needed more than anything is a safe place to be, somewhere to get away from it all, and Hyunjin couldn’t be happier to be that for you. “Jinnie…” you say—the first thing you’ve said in at least an hour—and the scratching of a midnight blue pastel against paper comes to a halt. In an instant everything around him disappears. There’s only you.

Hyunjin reaches around, cupping your chin, and tilts your head up towards him. You lock eyes, him looking down and you looking up. His eyes are the moon, yours are the sea, and, oh, how he moves you. “Need something, sweetie?” he asks, strands of dark hair falling loose from the hair band keeping it out of his face. You shake your head, the tiny hairs on your arm standing up as he strokes the side of your neck. “No, it’s just…do you ever wanna…I don’t know, run away?”

Hyunjin gasps, pretending to be on the verge of tears, “She said I’m so boring I make her wanna run away.”

“You’re such a drama queen” you giggle, rolling your eyes, “It’s not that. I mean, I do want to run away but not from you. From…” Your chest tightens at the thought of what troubles you, stopping your words short.

Hyunjin leans down to kiss you on the forehead, grounding you in this moment with him. His way of reminding you that you are safe here. “From everything else? Just drop it all and run as fast as you can to escape it? I feel that way all the time. Way more than I’d like to honestly.” 

“So how do you get over it?” you ask, relieved to finally have someone who gets it. “Hmm,” he sighs, glancing out at the endless night and back down at you, “Someone once told me that when we feel bad things that’s just our hearts telling us that something’s not right. So we shouldn’t just get over it. We should pay attention to it.”

You shudder at the concept, paying more attention to what you’re feeling is the last thing you want to do. “But every time I think about it I get so upset. I feel weak.”

Hyunjin’s expression sours the second the word “weak” leaves your lips. Sitting back in his chair, he holds his arms out to you, “Come sit.” Staying snug in your blanket burrito, you make your way onto his lap, quickly adjusting to your new spot. Hyunjin laces his arms around you, holding you close to him like something too valuable to let sit unprotected.

“Never say that again” he says, empathetic but unwilling to let you doubt yourself, “You are not weak. You’re human. Life sucks sometimes and you don’t have to force yourself to be okay with it. Not for anyone.”

Fidgeting with a loose thread in the blanket’s stitching, you fight your hardest to choke back the tears that inevitably come streaming down your cheeks. Life may be overwhelming but this—being loved by him even when you’re falling apart—is overwhelming in its own way.

Hyunjin pulls the sleeves down on his sweatshirt, using the smooth cotton to wipe away your tears as they fall. “So, where are we running to?”

“What do you mean?” you sniffle, blinking through the tears. 

Hyunjin looks at you like his reasoning’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You wanna go so let’s go. Right now. We don’t even have to tell anyone. Let’s just…fuck it…let’s go.” 

“You can’t just go, Jinnie. You have that thing tomorrow and—” 

Hyunjin kisses you, wiping your brain clean of any thoughts of pushing him away. His lips play a game of catch and release with yours. Drowning you in their soft embrace, letting you come up for air, and dragging you back down again. “What’d I say to you when I asked you to be my girlfriend?” 

“You said, ‘It’s me and you’” you recall, as if you could ever forget. 

“Me and you and you and me and me and you” Hyunjin says faster each time until you’re giggling through what’s left of your tears, “We’re in this together. You’re stuck with me.” 

He lingers closely enough to your face that you could steal a kiss of your own if you wanted to and you do. Your body rushes with so much heat that you let the blanket fall away, exposing you to a light breeze. Hyunjin pulls you over so that you’re stadling him, his arms locking around your waist.

“Take me wherever you want,” you whisper, “As long as I’m with you I don’t care.” It gives him butterflies to hear you say that and you notice his cheeks begin to go all rosy on you. It’s the cutest thing. Hyunjin plants his feet firmly on the ground, lifting you up without warning, and carrying you towards the bed. You cling to him for dear life, only letting go once he has you safely on the bed. Even then the two of you can’t quite untangle from each other. Not that either of you try. 

“Cuddle tonight and prison break in the morning, deal?” he asks, lit up with all the possibilities of where you could escape to together.

You yawn, settling into the fluffy mattress, eyelids growing heavy, “Deal.”

Hyunjin pulls you in, your head nestled against his chest, and strokes your hair as he hums along to the music once more. You drift off to sleep in no time. Comforted, loved, protected, and safe in the knowledge that tomorrow won’t be like the others have been because you’ve finally let him in. Finally let yourself trust that it truly is you and him. 

And him and you and you and him and…

[rebouks]

Previous // Next

Hiiiii Robin aka Bird Boy!

Sorry I took a bit longer than usual to reply but dad suddenly decided he’d had enough of the forest and we went back home! I thought maybe it’d be fun to wait a bit longer and show you our house and stuff. I don’t really like moving around all the time but I guess it kinda gives you lots of new stuff to talk about so that’s something.

This is our house! It’s not as big as yours looks but there’s only two of us and we’re not always here so it makes sense that it’s not massive. Dad usually rents it out whilst we’re not here cos he says it’s better for the house that it’s looked after but I know he means it’s better for his bank too lol!! I guess it works out for me though cos he says I can put as many plants as I want in my room as long as I keep them alive so they’d die if we left it empty every time we left. He says it’s like I brought the jungle inside hahaaha, I like it though!

The last person who rented the house was one of dad’s old work friends and he left this cool telescope for me to play with since I’m “so keen about the stars and shit” HIS WORDS! I know you’re supposed to use it at night but it’s kinda fun to spy on people during the day too. Like I’m pretty sure our neighbours are getting a divorce cos I overheard the guy moaning about the lady to my dad once and sometimes you can hear them yelling and see them waving their arms at each other through the window or on the balcony (don’t tell anyone though hahaa!)

I think dad’s kinda happy to be back (look how bushy his eyebrows are though ahahhhahah) he spends a lot of time fishing but I know it’s only a matter of time until he gets itchy and runs out of money again. Half of me wishes he’d get a good job here so we wouldn’t have to move around all the time but the other half is glad to leave. I guess it’s kinda nice here AND I was born here but I don’t even like swimming and there’s water and beaches EVERYWHERE ugh..

I guess I don’t really think Sulani feels like home anymore, not since mom died. It’s pretty and it’s nice but something is always missing so it’s kinda lame too if that makes sense. Maybe that’s why dad likes to leave sometimes too, I’d ask him but he’d probably get upset so maybe not! I was gonna leave that part out cos it’s a bummer but we don’t really keep many secrets from each other so I said it…

Anyway, dad’s a pig and never cleans ANYTHING and I think he got bored of me complaining about how big and heavy the vacuum is cos he got me a cool mini one (it’s a “sorry we move around so much but here’s a present so shh” present but I’ll take it hahaa) he took it off me for a few days after I hoovered some crumbs out of his bed and sucked up his headphones by accident but that’s his fault for eating cookies in bed when he should be sleeping.

Oh and since there’s not many fun rocks to find or dig up here I decided to start up my shell collection again. I found a few nice ones I guess but I really want to find a conch! Dad said they’re pretty rare but you’d think with all the stupid sand and beaches around here that I’d be able to find at least ONE even if it was a tiny one but not yet! I’ll let you know if I do though!

Anyway, I’m kinda sad we left Granite Falls in the end cos it was so close to the holidays I hoped maybe your family would go camping again and we’d be able to explore together again. Hopefully next time we move we’ll move even closer to where you live so there’s more chance we’ll get to see each other! A bird pooped on me the other day though which dad said is supposed to be lucky so I decided to believe him and hope we get to hang out again one day SOON (after I had a shower anyway because EUGH!)

Hope you’re okay and glad to be done with school for the summer!

Love Alex :)

[olderthannetfic]

Yeah. Cultural Appropriation is a little bit tricky. Sometimes I feel like people even from the same marginalized culture are expected to just stick with Western European fantasy since people will instantly hate on and demand they teach history lessons if they do anything else. But on the other hand it’s pretty bad when some white writer writes something like an Arab fantasy where it’s pretty clear that they did all their research by watching Disney’s Aladdin. There’s also diaspora where their views on their culture are quite different from those in the mainland and can fall into bad stereotypes. I often find myself not wanting to do Mexican fantasy and staying with European stuff despite being Mexican since many believe only full indigenous peoples can do that. I also live in diaspora and haven’t lived my life in Mexico so it’s best I don’t do it.

--

IME, the people who write the really atrocious stuff never pause to think whether they should, and all we end up doing is having a bunch of interesting artists hobbling themselves.

What I'd like to see, more than a hands-off approach, is people being honest about how much personal knowledge they have and how much they're claiming to be ~authentic~ in a given work.

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

I think someone put the brain of a mouse or maybe a squirrel inside my head at some point because all winter I was like “I crave nuts and seeds” and now that it’s getting warmer and brighter out my brain keeps going “it’s fruit time”

Like, modern transportation has made it possible to move many fruits all over the world (in theory) all the time! But the primal early plesiadapiform part of my brain is like “you must eat what is available this season”

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Simon needing to hold you after a bad day.

The tiny apartment was completely silent as Simon unlocked the door and stepped inside, head hung low and shoulders tense. Lights were turned down, tv was off; you were most likely already asleep by now. It was late, much later than he had told you he’d be back, but he had been struggling with the weight of his thoughts again today and had barely made it in. He would have let you know that he was going to be late… it was just…he couldn’t find the will to even shoot you a quick text.

It wasn’t like him to be concerned about who knew where he was or what he was doing, choosing to distance himself from everything and everyone that could potentially catch a glimpse of him cracking behind the mask, but right now all he wanted was to get back to the place he called home before he fell apart and the world would swallow him whole.

As quietly as he could he set his things down beside the door and continued on through the flat, catching little bits of you everywhere: your shoes lying scattered by the wall, the blanket you’d just been curled up in tossed haphazardly in a bundle on the sofa, a mug on the coffee table that had the remnants of your drink stuck to the inside. Scattered bits of you everywhere across his life as little reminders of what he had that waited for him here and for the first time all day it felt a little easier to breathe to know his angel was close by.

Passing near the kitchen, Simon spotted a piece of paper with his name scribbled on the front waiting for him on the countertop, your familiar handwriting obvious to his eye. He picked it up and unfolded it.

Hey baby,

I really tried to stay up, I promise, but you know how work has been kicking my ass lately. I thought maybe I could just take a nap until you got in, but I was worried that if I laid down I wouldn’t wake up, so I thought I’d leave this here for you to find. Didn’t want you to think I forgot about you. Just wake me when you get in, alright? I don’t care what time it is, I want to see you!

Love you.

P.S. I left some dinner in the fridge if you haven’t eaten yet. We can reheat it and eat it together. XOXO 

Christ, what did he do to deserve all this?

Always looking out for him, always making sure he had a place back in the real world whenever he came home. He held that piece of paper between his hardened fingers, the note more significant than it should have been after the type of day he had. You were the closest to heaven as he could get, more than he ever thought he would get to have and that’s why it was you he was trying to break down that wall to come to for comfort. 

His sight flicked to the fridge where you said you’d left him something; he was definitely starving, but just the thought of the effort it would take to eat right now was too much and the knot that rested in the pit of his stomach made him too nauseous anyway. There was something that would fill him far better than food could and he knew just where to find it now.

Moving on to the living room, he set himself down heavily on the couch and began to remove his boots and the outer layers of his clothing along with his mask, stripping away all the bits of his life as the stone cold sniper now that he was safe here in his little sanctuary. Stripped bare until he was down to his boxers, Simon gently crept towards the back of the apartment hoping he would make it to the bedroom before this feeling took him. 

Closer and closer he walked towards the other half of his heart.

The door stood slightly ajar to invite him inside and as he stepped up to it, he caught the hushed, rhythmic sounds of your breathing as you slumbered. It sounded so peaceful that he could have stood there in the dimly lit hallway and listen to it all night long. Just a few more steps, barely any distance left, and he would truly be home.

The room was completely dark save for the small crack in the curtains that let in just a bit of light from the streetlamp outside, helping him to find his way through the maze of darkness. As those brown eyes adjusted to the lack of light, Simon turned his attention to the bed and his heart skipped a beat. There you were: the outline of your body silhouetted under the covers, your head buried in your pillow, all cares left behind as you slept.

No sound did he make as he crept to the edge of the bed and lifted the sheets so that he could climb inside and up against your body laying in the center. One strong arm slipped up under your pillowed head while the other wrapped around your waist until you were encircled and he pulled you slowly so that your back rested up against his chest. His body molded into yours still warm from being wrapped up tight.

You stirred awake gently at the feeling of that familiar large body suddenly laying beside you. “Hey you,” you whispered sleepily, a smile on your lips as your eyes fluttered as they worked to open. “Tried to wait up, but I got so tired I had to go lay down. I’m sorry, but I’ll make it up to you.”

Only silence greeted you as a response. No chuckle at your predictability, no picking remarks about how you couldn’t even stay up to see him, just the sound of labored breaths in and out as he lay there in the darkness curled up against you.

Silence only meant one thing and you knew it well.

“You okay baby?” you asked, but again there was no answer. Only the squeeze of his arm around your waist pulling you in tighter to his chest gave you any sort of reply as Simon’s nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his eyelashes brushing over your skin.

It was clear just from the silence that he was far from okay, that he must have been bottling this up for God knows how many hours so that the world would not see that he was not always the tough, put together soldier he was supposed to be. But he could not hide it from you...he didn't want to hide it from you.

You heard him inhale deeply, trying to capture as much of your scent as he could until it filled his head: your natural musk mixed with the smell of the sheets and added hints of shampoo and body wash. That comforting scent that belonged to only you that he couldn't ever get enough of, the one that helped to relax his troubled mind. Instantly the tension he had been carrying like a boulder upon his shoulders all day finally released him from its stranglehold. 

Gentle, exploring hands tentatively went up under your baggy shirt, one of his old worn ones you loved to wear to bed to keep him close even when he wasn’t there, as he just wanted to make contact with all that delicately soft skin. He traced over curved paths he knew by touch alone: it was soft, it was familiar, it was safe and his heartbeat slowed as the ache in his chest dissipated enough that he could finally talk.

“Bad day,” he whispered finally, warm breath against your shoulder. "Really fuckin' bad day... again."

You rolled over in his arms until you came face to face with those sad auburn eyes, moved by the shame in his tone. It broke your heart that each time he had one of these days he felt such guilt about it, as if he simply should have been over it all by now, as if he wasn't human, but you were not about to let him overthink the struggle. There was nothing to be shameful about.

“I’m sorry baby. These things just happen, you know, but its alright; we'll get through it together, ” you said quietly, fingertips gently running over the line of his eyebrow, down his cheekbone and further to his jaw in soothing circles.

Together.

Simon closed his eyes and eased into your hand as you traced patterns across his temple and through the cropped sides of his hair, letting the vile, churning thoughts rummaging around in his brain to fall away. No one else could ever see him like this save for you, no one else's touch he craved more than anything to bring him back into himself after the day had brought him down so low. 

He brought his hand up and placed the tough palm over top of yours to hold it firmly against his cheek as if to make sure that all of this was real, that you were not simply a mirage cast by his broken mind. 

“You’re home now, baby,” you reassured him as he took deep breaths in and out with his eyes closed, only wanting to feel you. “It’s gonna be okay, I got you.”

Home, still such a strange word for him.

Wherever you were that was home. Not a place, but a person, one who made certain that no matter how far he drifted she would always pull him back in. Simon had never had such a tether before, but fuck did he need it. He could feel it like medicine running through his blood, when you held him he could feel the chemicals rush to soothe the gaping wound in his heart.

Pulling your hand off his cheek, he brought it to his mouth and pressed his lips to the surface before leaning in to give one to your gentle lips. You embraced him back with such tenderness as if to remind him of that promise you had made to each other that neither of you would have to traverse the hell of this world alone.

“Home,” he repeated the tender word in his gravely tone, letting the emotionless second mask fall away. "I hope ya know... that you are my home, sweetheart."

You smiled. "You're mine too, Simon."

He took a deep breath, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat. "Bein' near ya is the only fuckin' thing that seems to help quiet the shit in my 'ead these days."

Pulling him back in, you gave him another kiss. "Then get nice and close," you said softly as you squirmed up under him more, setting his arm back over you.

Securing his arms around you again he moved over top of you so that his head rested against the middle of your chest, ear pressed in against your sternum to listen to your heartbeat rhythmically thump inside. With his hand still inside your shirt he drew his fingertips along your bare hips, not wanting anything more than your company tonight. 

Your calming fingers ran through his short hair and over his scalp as he counted the beats of your heart until he melted into your body. Discussion could happen later if and when he was ready, for now this was all he needed. However long he wanted to cling to your torso, you’d let him.

You were his life raft, pulling him back in and no matter how far he drifted and it was because of you that for the first time in his life he didn’t feel like he was going to get lost.  

[actual-changeling]

we do not talk enough about the moment right before crowley puts his sunglasses back on. the "nothing lasts forever" is devastating and if you're like me your eyes were so full of tears you couldn't see the screen the first time you watched it (just like crowley, look at us all twinning in sadness!).

there is a shift that happens in his eyes and i think it is absolutely fascinating and heartbreaking at the same time.

we begin with crowley averting his gaze from aziraphale's face and staring off into the distance instead, and you can see his spirit break. that crowley just lost the one thing in the world he cannot live without and we can see it written across his face like a neon sign.

then, as you'd expect, he gives into the need to cover up his pain, to try and make himself less vulnerable, and even before he lifts his glasses he looks down so aziraphale can no longer see his eyes.

now, the next part is what would not let me out of its grasp all day. we know it happens because of his demeanour afterwards and up until the kiss, but you can actually watch as crowley makes himself numb to the world.

i am intimately familiar with dissociation as a trauma and stress response, and while you can never fully control it, you do eventually find the switch in your mind that makes you snap back into the haze. crowley has had six thousand years to get really, really good at leaving reality behind when he needs and/or wants to.

that's exactly what he does.

he still looks sad, and yet there's just something distinctly distant in his eyes, the shift from openly heartbroken to "i don't want to feel any of this let me leave".

glasses? on

emotions? off

hotel? trivago

i have stared at those four frames more than any person probably should and i don't know if it's the light, if i am going insane, or if there is a single tear sliding out of his right (our left) eye. i'm probably insane and the light is a bitch so if anyone has some high resolution shots or anything that could answer that question without a doubt PLEASE do add it.

by now you are probably ready to threaten me with a knife in a dark alley but before you do that or drive your car off a cliff, let me tell you the best part:

aziraphale notices.

they might be communicating on two different frequencies but aziraphale knows crowley. he knows and loves him, and, most importantly, over the last few years he has gotten used to seeing crowley without his glasses. aziraphale could probably write a book on the expressions in his eyes alone and watches that shift happen and is devastated.

look.

he tries to make himself hope the same second, tries to convince himself crowley is putting on his glasses so they can leave together, but he knows.

aziraphale sees the light leave crowley's eyes, sees crowley leave, knowing that he is quite literally running away from him. you and me against the world, angel, but in that moment crowley firmly pushes him back to "the world" (or tries to, anyway).

the entire season we see crowley take off his glasses whenever he enters the bookshop to the point where he's running around without them on in broad daylight with jimbriel right there.

can you imagine how hurt and confused aziraphale must be?

because what crowley is telling him, if we really, really break it down, is that aziraphale is no longer a safe person for him. and repairing that trust is going to take time and work, no matter how much crowley loves him, how badly they love and need each other.

anyway to seal this off and really rub in the pain - how it started vs. how it ended. <3

oh one last thing: now crowley no longer has a single person he can be himself around, no one that knows him, no one he trusts. no one in whose presence he can take his glasses off.

and outside of the bentley and his own flat, he no longer has a place to do so either. the bookshop was theirs. with aziraphale gone, is it really a safe place anymore? is it somewhere he can just let himself be knowing he will be looked after and protected?

easy answer: no.

alright, off i go. see y'all on the next angst post or in the tags.

[hareofhrair]

I wanted to put this one the previous post but it was long and this is a tangent but- In regards to the hypothetical "If House was my doctor I'd just tell him everything. Rip to all his other patients but I'm different."

The whole point of the show is that you wouldn't. Like a major theme of the show is about how the various shames and stigmas and habitual dishonesties that plague our societies both metaphorically and literally kill us. "Everybody lies" isn't just a cynical catchphrase, it's the shows thesis. Because of how we operate as a society, everyone feels compelled to suppress and hide things and that inevitably leads to suffering.

And there are plenty of episodes where this is obvious, ie "I cheated on my partner and gave them an STD." But there's also much more of "This little girl went through early puberty and because of the way our society stigmatizes women's bodies her single father never discussed puberty with her and she was so afraid and ashamed of her new pubic hair that she tried to shave it without telling anyone and mutilated herself, leading everyone to think she'd been abused and throwing off the whole case until House figured out her hormones were going crazy because she'd been exposed to her father's low T medicine, which he hid because of how our society regards masculinity, which he started taking because he began dating a younger woman (because of shame stemming from our society's unrealistic expectations wrt sex in relationships) which he was hiding from his kids, because of shame regarding our societies toxic views on monogamy."

A particular episode stands out as a really good example. S06E15 "Private Lives," which aired in 2010 but was fairly prescient about where social media was heading. The patient was a blogger who documented literally every moment of every day for her followers. She made it very clear she left *nothing* out, from her and her boyfriend's sex life to, eventually, asking for feedback from her followers on whether to get her heart valve replaced with one from a pig or a "vegan" plastic one. She handed the whole blog over to House as soon as he took the case and the team poured through the whole thing. Surely this is proof you're wrong about everybody lying, the team says to House. She's give us her whole life and you still can't find out what's wrong! Spoiler, it turned out the crucial symptom that allowed House to put it all together? Was the one thing she *didn't* include in the blog- Her bowel movements. Shame and stigma around talking about *poop* nearly killed this woman. It was also a detail that should have been picked up immediately by a normal doctor, who would have asked about her bowel movements as part of the standard checklist of diagnostic questions. But this woman was so confident that she'd laid out every relevant detail of her life in her blog, she wouldn't answer those questions, obfuscating what she was actually ashamed of underneath a pile of curated, rationalized, narritivized junk she could pretend was proof of a lack of shame and not simply a skill at creative writing.

When I say "I'd just tell House everything" is ridiculous, I don't just mean "well, because of the way the show works, you HAVE to be hiding SOMETHING." I mean literally, you- because you are a human being- are ashamed of *something.* And because you are a human being, the more info you try to give House the more deeply you will bury whatever it is you're actually ashamed of. And, because of the way the show works, that *will* end up being the key to what's making you sick.

[cutielando]

stream ~ lando norris

Summary: Now that the winter break is finally here, Lando's home and ready to get back to streaming. Only, the fans want to see you on the stream with him too.

Words: 1.1k+

Other works: my masterlist

♡♡♡♡♡

"Babe, do you need anything else? I'm about to go stream for a bit" Lando asked you as he was getting ready to stream, wanting to make sure you didn't need him for anything.

"No, I'm okay. I'm gonna watch my show for a bit while you stream and then make us some dinner" you smiled and pecked his lips, making him smile and depart to his streaming set up.

Now that the winter break had finally arrived, Lando wanted to get back to interacting with his fans before you two would begin your travel calendar that would take up almost the entire break.

And what better way to interact with his fans than hopping on Twitch to stream?

"Are you gonna watch?" Lando yelled from his chair moments before he went live.

"Always!" you yelled back, opening the app on your phone to watch his stream in parallel.

You settled into your cocoon of blankets on the sofa, your show playing quietly in the background while Lando's stream was on-going on your phone.

Watching him stream and interact with his fans was one of your favorite things about him. Even with his busy schedule, he made sure he made time to interact with his fans as often as he possibly could.

It didn't always go to plan, but Lando made efforts to make sure he wasn't neglecting anyone, not you and certainly not his fans.

"Where is Y/N? She's in the living room watching her show, she's been obsessed with Grey's Anatomy for a while now. She always ignores me to watch it" Lando said, chuckling once he saw the comments defending you.

You smiled hearing him laugh, loving the fact that his fans would always ask him about you whenever you weren't on the stream with him.

"Don't out me" you commented, making the chat explode once they noticed you in the comment section.

"Hey, babe. Nice to see you giving me some attention now that I've called you out for it" he said once he managed to find your comment.

"Y/N, come on stream we miss youuuu😭😭"

"Lando, please convince Y/N to come on the stream with you"

"We want Y/N"

The comments were overflowing with demands that you join the stream, something that would happen almost every time he would go live.

"Babe, come here for a second. Everyone is ignoring me because they want to see you" Lando shouted from the room, making you smile and pause your show as you made your way to the stream room.

His voice tried to sound annoyed, but you secretly knew he loved having you on stream with him. He loved seeing the fans interacting with you, wanting to talk to you about anything really. He knew how much pressure you were under with dating him, so he thanked God that his fans loved you as much as he did and supported your relationship fully.

You stopped in the doorway, watching him for a moment with a smile on your face. When he noticed you on the camera, he turned around and smiled at you, outstretching his hand towards you.

"Come here" you made your way over to him, taking a seat on his lap and wrapping your arms around his shoulders for support.

You pressed a kiss to his cheek before you diverted your attention to the chat.

"Hi chat" you greeted them, seeing all the comments freaking out over your presence.

Lando frowned a little when he saw the excitement towards Y/N, his presence seemingly already forgotten.

"I think the chat likes you more than me" Lando grumbled from behind you, making you giggle and ruffle his hair.

"That's not true. They love you just as much" you said, but the comments from the chat weren't helping your case.

"We love seeing Y/N on streams"

"MOTHER IS HERE"

"Y/N needs to be on stream more, Lando don't keep her away from the camera"

You smiled sheepishly back at Lando, who just rolled his eyes but couldn't keep the smile that was threatening to break out on his face at bay.

"What should we do?" he asked, typing away on the computer.

"I could stay and watch you play some F1, if you want. I don't think the chat wants to see me make a fool of myself because I such at it so badly" you proposed, trying to read the chat for any reactions.

You certainly didn't expect to see everyone demanding that you play the game yourself, the fans already somewhat bored with watching Lando, an actual Formula 1 driver, play it constantly.

"Looks like the chat wants precisely that" your boyfriend joked, beginning to set up the game for you.

"But I suck, they're just gonna make fun of me like you do when I play" you whined, knowing you would quickly become a meme on Twitter due to how bad you were at the game.

"I don't make fun of you" he defended, but one look from you made him smile innocently.

"It's going to be fun, you'll see" he said, the game set up for you to start playing.

You sighed, but agreed nonetheless. You got more comfortable on your boyfriend's lap, his arms wrapped around your waist to hold you against his body. 

Exactly as you had predicted, you did an awful job, coming in the last positions in almost every race you had attempted. Lando had tried helping you many times, but you were far too stubborn to accept his help with anything. 

The chat was having a blast seeing you so focused, but the thing that got their attention every time was the way Lando would look at you, his eyes so star-struck like you had just hung the moon and stars for him.

"Okay, I think it's enough embarrassment for one day" you declared once you had finished once again at the back of the grid, for the 10th time in a row.

"You were getting the hang of it towards the end" Lando tried cheering you up, rubbing his hands on your waist.

"You have to say that, you're my boyfriend" you pouted, turning sideways on his lap and resting your head on his shoulder.

Lando spent a half an hour more on stream, just chatting with the fans. Once he decided to finish up, he noticed that you had fallen asleep on his lap, your breathing even and your eyes closed softly.

He smiled to himself and whispered a goodbye to the stream before scooping you up in his arms carefully and bringing you to your shared bed.

"Goodnight, my love" he whispered, kissing your forehead and tucking you into bed.

You mumbled something, drifting back to your deep sleep.

Safe to say, the stream had tired both of you out, Lando falling asleep while cuddling you as soon as his head hit the pillow.

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[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | Masterpost (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆status: on-going (next update: May 17th, 2024)

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader, Hoseok x female reader, Namjoon x OC, Jin x OC, Jimin x OC, Taehyung x OC and others.

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆total word count: 182.9k (lmao my fingers slipped)

☆a/n: I got the idea for this fic just a little over a year ago, following a power outage that lasted for a few days where I live and Jungkook's live where he kept coming back with different outfits (the white dress shirt hit me right in the gut). It took me a long time to write, as I was working on multiple other projects at the same time, but I am so so happy to be ready to share this baby with you guys <3

☆Thank you to @moonleeai and @jessikahathaway for beta-ing this monster <3 (and for all your encouragement and support)

☆And a special thank you to @wintaerbaer and @btsborahaee for encouraging me and supporting me whenever I screamed to you about this fic

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

➳Teaser (Jungkook pov): the day he met you (1.1k)

You fucking touch her, you're dead.

➳Chapter one: when the Incident happens (11.8k)

Jungkook is Tae's best friend.

➳Chapter two: when Jungkook teases you (10.2k)

You know I hate that nickname.

➳Chapter three: when Valentine's Day happens (13.1k)

You know, Taehyung doesn’t have to know everything.

➳Chapter four: when you and Jeon Jungkook clash (9.5k)

I was just going to say that we should keep this between us.

➳Chapter five: when you have to go back to reality (12.1k)

We just pretend nothing happened, no?

➳Chapter six: when Jungkook hosts his friends over (9.6k)

I really want to kiss you right now.

➳Chapter seven: when doubt makes you question everything (15k)

Why do you want to believe the worst of me so bad?

➳Chapter eight: when secrets are unveiled in New York (13.5k)

I want you.

➳Chapter nine: when a party makes Jungkook jealous (11.2k)

You make me insane.

➳Chapter ten: when time slips through your fingers (10.1k)

I don’t want to lose you, peach.

➳Chapter eleven: when Jungkook visits Taehyung in Paris (8.4k)

Can’t wait for you to be back.

➳Chapter twelve: when it breaks (7.3k)

I can’t be with you.

➳Chapter thirteen: when it's too late (8.9k)

I have to talk to him.

➳Chapter fourteen: when the truth comes out (12.2k)

We never told each other how we felt.

➳Chapter fifteen: when you find your way back to Jungkook (7.4k)

You came?

➳Chapter sixteen: when Jungkook takes you out on a date (8.9k)

I think I was waiting for you my whole life.

➳Chapter seventeen: when forever awaits you (9k)

Getting to love you is the most beautiful thing that’s ever happened to me.

Drabbles in Jungkook's pov (might add more as the story goes on)

➳Drabble 1: the engagement party (453)

Have fun while it lasts.

➳Drabble 2: after a call in Paris (596)

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

➳Drabble 3: a conversation with his mother (644)

Nothing strengthens a man more than heartbreak.

➳Drabble 4: a conversation with Taehyung (1.1k)

It’s never been like that with her.

☆☆☆☆☆

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

good boy

words: 1.5k

warnings: established relationship, marriage, protective!rafe, (guard??) dog, fluffy

“rafe, it's literally two weeks. ill be fine!” you say, folding his clothes, having dumped out his suitcase onto the bed to reorganize it when you saw how he packed it, just chucking things in.

“two weeks where im a hours away from you by plane.” rafe sighs, watching you carefully repack his suitcase as he pouts on the bed, not wanting to leave you.

“you know, cameron, i lived a whole 20 years before meeting you.” you point out, knowing while rafes concern comes from his love for you, it will completely overwhelm what is supposed to be an enjoyable family vacation and leave him miserable the whole time.

“i don't see why you can't just come with me.” rafe groans, flopping back against the bed. you smile and round the bed to where his head is resting against the pillows. you press a smooch to his forehead, rubbing your hand over his head, petting at his soft hair.

“baby, it's just for your family. you know that.” it's not like you don't want to accompany rafe to a tropical paradise, but you would feel way too awkward intruding.

“what if something happens to you? and im not here to protect you? id be the worst fiancee ever.” rafe grabs your head from rubbing his head, holding up the ring on your finger for him to admire.

“nothing will happen. nothing ever happens here.” you laugh. you're not sure what crime is like on the other side of the island, but your neighborhood is incredibly safe.

“im still worried.” rafe sighs. “you in that big house all alone.”

“im gonna spend 99% of the time wedding planning.” you hum, thinking about the tabs pulled open on your laptop of different venues, dresses, and color palettes.

that finally gets rafe to crack a smile. “can't wait to marry you.” rafe says earnestly. he only proposed a month ago, some people would say that you were too young to get married, but rafe knew when you came into his life and turned everything around for him that he had to put a ring on your finger.

“i can't wait either.” you bend down to press a kiss to rafes lips. “but seriously we need to talk about your packing before we tie the knot, why do you only have one pair of shorts packed for an island?”

-- two years later --

“remember those two weeks you left before we were engaged? it's not really much longer. you should go, baby. it's a good opportunity.” you are sat on rafes lap, back pressed against his chest as he scrolls through his email.

“it's just work, and it's a whole lot longer than two weeks. i don't want to leave you here alone for over a month.” rafe closes out of the email, making you sigh.

“i was fine for those two weeks, ill be fine now. promise. i think you should go! it's a big conference.” you turn sideways on his lap so you can look rafe in the eye. “besides, it's still six months away. plenty of time to prepare.”

“prepare?” rafe raises his eyebrows. “so you'd be good with security cams around the whole house and personal security?”

“cameras on the outside and hell no. you don't want some random guys watching after me do you?”

you can see the gears turning in rafes head as he frowns. “yeah, you're right. no men.”

“so you'll go?” you smile. rafe closes his eyes for a brief moment before nodding.

“yay!” you squeal. you're not excited to be left alone, and you love being around your husband more than anything, but the work trip is a big deal, and you know he'll be kicking himself if he misses out on such a good opportunity.

--

“rafey?” you call, eyes sweeping across the living room as you enter your shared home, a head full of fresh highlights.

“hubby?” you call out, continuing deeper into the house until you see movement through the glass door leading towards the backyard, but it's not the typical roll of the ocean against the shore.

“rafe?” you question as you open the door. you expected to find him in his office, where he was before you left for the beauty salon.

rafe smiles, waiting for your eyes to look down, and when you finally see what is sitting at rafes feet, you let out a gasp.

“oh my gosh!” you squeal. 

“wifey, meet max. our new australian shepherd.” rafe gives a command with his hand, that has max running towards you.

you sink to your knees as the young dog excitedly greets you, licking at your hands as you pet him.

“hi maxey.” you coo at the dog, you're guessing around two years old, with max being full size but still having some young features.

“rafe, you didn't tell me you were getting us a dog!” you stand up, max following close behind as you rush to give your husband a hug.

“i have a confession.” rafe says, his hands looped around your waist. you frown, worried that max was just a foster and you'd have to give him back, or that something went wrong with the adoption. you often talked about getting pets before getting married, but wanted to wait a little bit, and then time just slipped away and before you knew it, you were over a year into your marriage. 

“what?” you whine out.

“ive been working with a trainer behind your back. i wanted to make sure max was ready before we chose him for sure. he knows commands, me, your scent, our house. everything. he knows his primary responsibility is to protect you and our property.”

“oh my gosh!” you slap rafe in the chest, surprised that he was able to keep such a secret from you. “how could you do all that without telling me?” you laugh, not angry, but surprised that he was able to orchestrate everything.

you don't wait for rafe to explain how he was able to find so much time, stepping out of his hold to kneel down and continue petting max.

“we have some more training sessions so he can learn with you as well.” rafe further explains, also leaning down to pet max behind the ears as he pants excitedly at his new owners.

--

“what is it maxy?” you ask as he lifts his head up, looking around the living room. “you miss your daddy?”

you sigh as max lets out a sad sounding huff, petting your hand over his head, scratching at his neck which you know is his favorite. rafe has been gone on his business trip for a month now, with only a week and a half left until he returns home.

max suddenly jumps off the couch, eyes on the backyard. he lets out a bark, claws clicking on the hardwood floor as he moves to the glass door. he lets out another bark, making you stand.

“what is it boy?” you ask, looking out the window.

max lets out another bark, this one the familiar territorial bark that he’s practiced in his training with you and rafe. you know the only reason that rafe feels safe enough leaving you home is that max is a great guard dog.

you get closer to the window, squinting your eyes to try and see in the darkness when you sudden jump back with a scream as a squirrel runs across your patio, causing max to bark and run along the glass door until it scatters into the yard.

“holy shit, maxy, you scared the shit out of me.” you press your hand to your chest before kneeling down, scratching behind his ears. “it was just a squirrel.” you reassure him with a pat.

your heart rate is just starting to calm down from the fright when you hear the front door open. max instantly takes off with you following after him, letting out a sigh of relief when you see rafe standing in the foyer.

“baby.” he sighs happily, setting his suitcase down as you run into his arms, pressing your lips together. “i missed you so much.”

“i missed you too, what are you doing home though?” you ask, giving him another kiss before he can answer.

“they didn’t need me for the rest of the week, decided to get home to my lady.” max barks, making rafe lean down to pet him, still holding you up. “and my good boy too, of course.”

“so happy to have you home.” you nuzzle your nose into rafes neck, inhaling the familiar scent that you missed so much. 

“happy to be back with you, wifey.” rafe says, carrying you further into the house.

“oh, and you will be very happy to know maxy did a great job protecting me while you were gone.” you tell rafe. it mostly involved max barking in warning at any delivery guy or car turning around in your driveway, but his presence did help making you feel safer and less loney.

“hopefully not too good.” rafe huffs as he looks at your pet. “can’t have him replacing me now.”

you giggle, surprised rafe can manage to be jealous of your dog. “never.” you swear, pressing another kiss to his lips.

taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @emma77645 @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk

[avis-writeshq]

not me asking for it https://www.tumblr.com/avis-writeshq/744966259884556288/if-someone-asks-for-it-ill-write-a-fic-based-on?source=share

pairing: s9!spencer reid x fem!reader genre: fluff, established relationship, SMUT warnings: 18+ CONTENT; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !! oral fem receiving, spencer reid is a munch, hair pulling, fingering a/n: a promise is a promise !! based off of this post <3 i hope this lived up to expectations !! first time writing fem oral ha h a ha wc: 1.1k

Honestly, if there’s one person Spencer can blame for the situation he is currently in, he blames himself. After all, he should have known that a ‘gathering’ at Rossi’s house that was planned by Penelope would only call for a lot of teasing, a lot of ‘get to know each other!’ games (despite the fact that he has worked with this same team for more than seven years. What else is there to know?), and a lot of alcohol. He didn’t quite realise that these games would be of the drinking variety. Alas, here he is, sitting on one of Rossi’s incredibly expensive leather couches and cringing at the horrid taste of whiskey. 

The game they’re currently playing is an alcoholic’s rendition of ‘who is most likely to?’, involving a thick stack of cards with different topics while each member of the team took turns reading out. Whoever ended up with the most amount fingers pointed in their direction was forced to drink.

Spencer hates this game. He has drank from his cup a grand total of six times, and he is not getting any more used to the spicy-poison-equivalent in his hand. 

“Alright, this is a good one,” Derek announces with a manic snigger. “Who here is most likely to be a munch?”

There is no hesitation in anyone’s answers, and all six fingers point into Spencer’s direction. His jaw drops at the betrayal, his head spinning from the sheer amount of shots he had to take but also what the hell is a munch?

“I don’t even know what that means!” He insists. 

“Oh–” Penelope wears a half delighted half pitying expression at his words. “We really need to get you onto the internet more. Reddit is probably up your alley.”

“Even Rossi knows what it means,” Emily cackles, gesturing to Rossi who looks all too pleased. “Hotch was my second option though.”

Aaron shrugs, sipping at his drink. “Guilty.”

A chorus of laughs and shrieks erupt from the group, leaving Spencer even more confused. “What?”

“Don’t Google it,” JJ chimes in. “Seriously.”

Spencer nods, and although he knows that he should have taken the warning seriously, the curiosity was getting to him and he had no choice but to search it up as soon as he got home. He gets the usual answers– the etymology of the word, what it means in the Oxford Dictionary, the popularity of the word since the early 1800s, and he really doesn’t understand what the fuss is. Does the team think that he eats loudly? Or that he chews with his mouth open? His brows furrow at the unsightly thought. 

His interest soon shifts to a different a different link, namely The Urban Dictionary. He blinks, clicking on the link without much thought and– oh. He does not get much sleep that night.

*** 

Your relationship with Spencer isn’t a secret. At least, it was never supposed to be classified as such. He is simply an incredibly private person that even his closest friends don’t know that you exist. It simply never popped up in conversation– or so he says.

The relationship isn’t necessarily new either. It’s nearing the one year mark and you have gotten to the point where the two of you have been more ‘experimental’ when it comes to sex. He finds it embarrassing. You find it unsurprising that he would. You find it even more surprising when he breaks a kiss halfway to lower you onto his bed, your head falling to one of his very expensive memory foam pillows. 

“I want to try something,” he announces softly into your ear, squeezing gently at your waist and looping his fingers into his shorts. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, body hot with anticipation as he pulls down your shorts. It’s only when he brings his face between your thighs do you realise what he intends to do. “Spence, you don’t have to–”

“I want to,” he repeats softly, his fingers running up and down the lacy fabric at your slit. “If you want me to stop, you can tell me.”

You shake your head immediately at that, your hands moving to his grip his shoulders. “No, I don’t want you to stop but– but Spence, this is the first time you’ve done this. It’s okay–”

“Let me do this for you,” he says, his breath ghosting against the sensitive skin of your thighs. “I’ve done my research.”

“What–”

You’re silenced as soon as he presses his lips to your cunt, only separated by your pretty lacy underwear. He groans quietly at the taste of your slick seeping through the fabric, and his hands hold onto your thighs to keep them parted. It’s so good, so good, but it just isn’t enough. He pushes the fabric to the side, watching the way it clings and sticks to your skin. 

All it takes is one swipe of his tongue on your pretty clit for his brain to grow blank. The grip he has on your thighs grow firmer and his fingers dig in hard enough to leave little marks. His nose bumps against your clit while his tongue travels against your folds. 

“You taste so fucking good,” he breathes against you, lapping at your dripping cunt. “Fuck, angel, you’re so beautiful.”

Then, he’s on you all over again. His lips wrap around your clit and he whines into you as he sucks at the bundle of nerves. Each one of his actions has your back lifting from the bed and your hands tugging at his curls, to which he responds with a quiet moan. Amidst the pleasure, your mind nags you to be gentle, and you loosen your grip despite it taking all of your self control.

“Do that again.” He says it as a demand, guiding your hands back into his hair. “Do it again, angel.”

His head is spinning and he craves for more of you, his tongue flattening against your clit over and over again. He brings his own fingers to brush against your entrance, coating them with your slick before slipping his middle finger inside. It’s only the first knuckle but it’s enough to have you squirming beneath him. He pushes further until it reaches all the way, and Spencer groans at the feeling of you tightening around him. He kisses your clit again at the same time he curls his finger inside you and it’s all too much. 

“Spence–”

You gush around his finger and he licks and laps at your pussy like he needs it to breathe. His finger curls open and closed inside you while you rock your hips against his face, your grip on his hair tightening as each second of your high passes. 

“So good,” Spencer moans, kissing your clit. “Taste so good. You can do one more, right, angel? Just one more, I promise.”

reblogs are always appreciated !!

tagging the people who commented on the original post: @mosaicbrokenherz @doigettokeepyou @goblinintheblog @cassioxpeiaxmgg @daddytenebra @lilliumrorum @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @lightreiding

[moonstruckme]

hey mae! it’s been awhile since i’ve sent an ask but im always reading your work girl! i love how you write tbh. if you’re up to it do you think you could write something with poly marauders, where the reader has trouble eating and making themself eat due to poor appetite. my appetite really does come and go and ever since covid (maybe before) it’s like eating makes me feel revolted. sometimes i just don’t feel like eating bc of other things like depression, adhd, anxiety. i was just wondering if you could write something with the boys helping out the reader with finding out what sounds good, cooking, and eating if possible. sometimes having someone around to talk to and hang out with makes it so much easier to deal -🌶️

Hey Pepper, thank you sm! And thanks for being patient with me <3

cw: lack of appetite, mention of skipping meals

poly!marauders x gn!reader ♡ 1.1k words

The sun’s going down, the last dregs of its light spilling brilliant and golden over the book in your lap, and you can feel your boyfriends starting to get restless. Well, two of them. 

“If we’re missing half the ingredients,” Sirius says, trailing James into the kitchen, “it’s not going to be any good.” 

James only tsks. “Ye of little faith. That’s what improvisation is for.” He starts pulling things down from the cabinet. 

“You’re not even going to glance at the recipe?” 

“I don’t need to. I know the general vibe.” 

“Help!” Sirius calls towards the living room. “He’s gone off the rails. Remus, come fix it.” 

Remus turns around to look over the back of the sofa, his shoulder brushing yours as he does. He’s sitting right up against you despite the couch being empty, not that you mind. Remus is sort of like a cat that wants to be near you but not always to be pet. His touches are often like this, passive gestures like a hand on your head or his thigh pressed against yours. It works for you just fine; you can feel the affection bleeding into you from any point of contact. 

“Don’t you think we should just eat out?” Sirius asks, tilting his head and doing that thing with his eyes that you all pretend doesn’t work on you. 

Impressively, Remus keeps his face impassive. “I’m having leftover brussels sprouts,” he replies, “so it’s not really my concern. Anyway, James has a good history with not following recipes.” 

“Exactly,” James says, grinning at Sirius, who scowls. But then he fixes his gaze on Remus. “So why are you having that, Rem? Have what I’m making.” 

“Because they’re going to go bad, and I’m not hungry enough for a big meal.” The last part is said somewhat quieter, directed towards the living room as he turns back around and picks up his own book. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see James frown, but he glances at Sirius and they seem to collectively decide not to push it. Remus’ appetite isn’t much better than yours. He has his better days, but it’s not uncommon for him not to feel up to what your other boyfriends would consider a whole meal or to eat only chocolate until Sirius hounds him into something more substantial. 

James looks to you hopefully. “You’ll have some, won’t you sweetheart?” 

You wince, hating to let him down, and from the look on James’ face he clocks the guilt in your expression before even you get a chance to say, “I don’t think I’m really up to it tonight, either.” 

James deflates, but he’s clearly trying to put on a brave face. “That’s alright. I think I’ll just save it for another night, then.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say, setting your book facedown on the armrest and turning around to face him more fully. “You could still make it and just put leftovers in the freezer. Maybe I’ll have some tomorrow.” You wince again as soon as you say it. No promises, though.

The smile James gives you is comforting if not totally satisfied. “It’s okay. I’ll just make it another time, it’s not a problem.” 

You return his smile, close-lipped. Sirius is looking at you with narrowed eyes, arms crossed like he’s sizing you up. 

“What are you going to eat?” he asks. 

“Hm?” 

“What are you going to have instead?” You hesitate, and he tilts his head knowingly, a piece of hair slipping from behind his ear to drape over his shoulder. “You need to have something, especially since you didn’t have lunch.” 

From the kitchen, James looks at you. “You didn’t?” 

“I just…don’t feel like it.” It’s a feeble argument even to your own ears, and the look Sirius gives you says that he thinks so, too. 

“You can’t miss two meals,” he says obstinately. “Even Remus is having some brussels sprouts.”

You look to Remus to be offended at the even Remus comment, but he only shrugs. You’re on your own. 

“What sounds good?” he asks you. 

You try not to pout. “Nothing. Everything sounds gross.” 

“C’mon, baby.” Sirius leans against the countertop. “It doesn’t have to be strictly dinner food, yeah? Just anything that sounds like you’d be willing to eat it.” 

You think for a minute. Remus touches the back of his hand to your leg, knuckles soothing over the skin beside your knee. 

“I guess…ice cream sounds okay,” you say hesitantly. “But I know that’s not exactly nutritious…” 

“Would a milkshake be close enough?” James pipes up. 

You shrug. “I guess.” 

He grins. “I can do that for you, love. Just gimme a sec.” 

James is a loud cook. You go back to your book while cabinet doors slam and the blender whirs and you hear a muffled “oh, shit” as something is undoubtedly dropped on the floor, but a minute later he’s bringing you a glass of something thick and chocolate-y looking. You smile at the added garnish of mint and a straw, reaching for it. 

“Thanks, Jamie.” 

He winks. “Anytime.” 

Remus is the only one courteous enough not to obviously watch while you take a sip, and you feel your eyebrows raise as you look up at James. 

“This is really good,” you say. He practically glows at the praise. “I didn’t even know we had chocolate ice cream.” 

Sirius barks a laugh, and James’ smile widens. 

“What?” you ask. 

“We don’t,” he admits. “Will it ruin your appetite if I tell you it’s not actually ice cream?” 

You shake your head, sucking at the straw. “I’m already drinking it, so.” 

James beams. He really is looking very proud of himself. “It’s a protein shake. A pretty balanced meal, actually.” 

“Nice!” You grin at him, taking another hearty slurp mostly because you know it’ll please him. “It’s perfect, thank you.” 

“Gotta keep our sweetheart fed,” he says, bending down for a kiss. Sirius and Remus’ hums of approval nearly harmonize, and you and James share an elated look while they both do their best to pretend like it didn’t happen. 

“Can I try?” Remus asks, and you tilt the cup towards him in invitation. 

He wraps his lips around your straw, sipping hesitantly. He looks mildly impressed. 

“Could you make me one of those too?” 

From the look on James’ face, he’d be delighted to. “Course, love.” He plants a smacker on Remus’ cheek and nearly knocks Sirius over as he beelines for the kitchen. 

“This is just excellent,” Sirius gripes, but you see the satisfaction in his expression. “Now that you two have blown up his ego, I’ll have to eat something he makes too.” 

“Correct,” James says brightly. “And you should be so lucky.” 

[bigfatbimbo]

i cannot get over pervy vox OMG

could you maybe write a fic/drabble where vox goes into readers room after they’ve masturbated and sucks on their vibrator just to get a taste of them?

maaaaybe he gets caught…?

sorry if this is too filthy lmaooo but i love love love your work!! also, if you do emoji anons I’d love to be 💕anon :)

Pervy!Vox x Reader Oneshot —

a/n — I love how in the bigfatbimbo universe, there are some things we just accept. Like boycunt Luci, girldick Lute, and now pervy Vox. Makes sense.

summary — In a desperate act, Vox goes into the readers room after they’ve masturbated and sucks on their vibrator. His punishment? Getting that vibrator used on him.

warnings — Smut, Vox being a fucking creep, small use of y/n, use of ‘mommy,’ Sub!Vox, Dom!reader

He couldn’t help himself, he saw you playing with yourself on his cameras and you just looked so pretty. It’s true, he just couldn’t resist ‘coincidentally’ knocking on your door after.

Just like how he couldn’t stop himself from sneaking off to ‘use the bathroom’ and take a short detour to your room. It wasn’t hard to find the vibrator, after all, you didn’t expect company and you didn’t expect anyone to be looking, either.

Vox didn’t really know what the plan was, so for a moment he just stared at it. However, despite the voices in his head telling him to hurry up, he very slowly leaned down to pick up the vibrator. God, it’s still slick with your beautiful fluids. And then all of a sudden he’s picturing you using this again, hearing your amazing noises, and before he realizes it, the vibrator is pressed to his lips.

He didn’t hesitate, after that, to wrap his tongue around it and suck longingly. If he let out small whimpers, they went unnoticed to him. Vox was far more concerned with the taste of you on his tongue and the growing pressure in his crotch.

“What are you doing?” Your voice is sharp and accusatory, cutting through the otherwise quiet room like a dagger.

He fumbles, dropping the vibrator in his surprise. Realizing what he has done, he glances down in awe of his uncharacteristic clumsiness. He doesn’t turn to face you.

“Uh, my dear, I was just going to the bathroom when…” His eyes dart around the room as he tries to think of his feet, “When I saw something on your floor, you should really be more careful with your things.”

Happy with his answer, he finally turns halfway to face you, careful to keep the bulge in his pants the other direction.

“Yeah, you’re right. I should be careful with my things,” your voice was not only skeptical, but you spoke with a tone that said, ‘oh, now you’re totally caught.’

You started walking towards him. Shit, he turns away from you further, screen brightening noticeably.

“Uhm, wait,” A laugh cuts through his voice, originally meant to be reassuring but falling flat and just coming off awkward, “My dear, we should go back to the living room—“

“Wow, Vox,” you lean down to pick up the vibrator, examining it, “You cleaned it off for me, too right? How sweet.”

You begin to sulk towards him, he sinks back.

“Only, wait a second—“ you make a show of putting your finger to your chin and thinking, “—you never mentioned going to bathroom after your detour.”

He frowns, blush on his screen deepening. His temper begins the rise, “Uhm, why am I being interrogated right now?”

You don’t listen too him, “That’s means the only thing you could have done was—“ letting out a fake gasp, you give him an almost sympathetic look before walking towards him further, “Oh Voxxy. Tell me you weren’t that desperate.”

“What? No I— Oh, fuck you,” His body tensed when he feels your hand on his shoulder.

“Good, because only a pathetic freak would do something like that,” his screen flushes when your eyes shift down his body. “Oh, but it looks like you got all worked up, huh?”

He doesn’t bother saying anything, just looking away in distain, “Look if you’re going to be all— hah!”

Vox yelps when he feelings your fingers graze his bulge.

“You’re disgusting,” you breathe into his neck, “Get on the bed.”

All thoughts in his mind about brainwashing you to forget this ever happened disappear, “What?”

“Get on the fucking bed, Vox,” You hiss with authority. Whatever fake sympathy you just displayed was gone, being replaced only by sharp commands.

You tug him backwards slightly and he falls onto the mattress.

“Hey— Hey, wait!” He complains, a whine creeping into his voice when the thought of your hand grazing his harden dick crossing his mind once more.

Vox was needy, the actions taken with your vibrator started it, and your condescending attitude only increased it. He felt undeniably embarrassed. How could he be caught? How humiliating… but god, if that didn’t make him all the needier.

You straddle him, softly grinding yourself against him, he bites his lip and softly whimpers. You push him down completely.

“Let’s see,” you undo his bowtie and start to pick up the bottom of his vest.

“So many punishments I could choose,” you begin to unbutton his shirt at an agonizingly slow pace.

“Punishment? You were the one who just left it out and—“ He’s cut off when you roll your hips making him whine desperately, “Nngh, fuck.”

“Maybe i’ll make you watch as I touch myself,” you toy at a button, two buttons, “Hm, but I bet you already did that today, huh, freak?”

He tries to protest but slam onto his crotch, forcing a yelp out of him.

“I could tie you up, but of course that’s not enough,” only one button left, “Say, I think maybe you should have a turn with that vibrator.”

“Y/n, let’s think about this,” his voice is whiny, but desperately clawing at any attempt to lighten the sentence you’re giving him.

“No, Vox. I think I deserve a turn to sit back and watch you get off, right?” You get off of him momentarily, a noise of complaint leaving his mouth.

You begin to dig through your drawers, looking for ropes, “God, Vox. I bet you’re look so good with one of mommy’s vibrators stuck up your pretty ass.

”Oh god. Oh god, fuck,” He moans at the thought, crawling up and resting against the headrest of the bed, watching you slink forwards him.

“Aw, shit. Of course,” you begin, wrapping the ropes around his wrists and securing them together, “Of course that would mean no attention at all to your dick. You know, because i’m just watching after all.”

“Dear god—“ He frowns deeply, bringing his tied wrists down to his screen to look at them. “Is— Is this really necessary? I mean a punishment—hah. You don’t think…” He trails off into awkward dismissive laughter, trying to ignore the pounding in his cock.

You don’t answer this time, instead focusing on getting the vibrator into Vox. You flip him over, doing what you need too in order to prepare for the toy, all while eliciting small moans and complaints from Vox.

Finally, you slide one of the vibrators from your drawer into him, causing him to suck in breath.

You position yourself behind him, resting your head on the crook of his neck and positioning his tied hands begging you neck as you turn the vibrator on.

Immediately, he lets out a terrible moan, “Fuck, fucking god,” leans further into you.

For the next few aggravating minutes, you don’t say anything to Vox. Almost as if you weren’t there at all. It made him wonder about his punishment.

Had you known for sure he was watching? Surely that was the only way he would get this kind of punishment, bedroom mess aside. The silent treatment, You just watching him.

It had to be that. He wasn’t sure how you’d known for certain, but anytime he began to wonder you seemed to turn up the vibrator.

It was impossibly hot, the humiliation of it all. But incredibly irritating, the pounding in his under-stimulated dick, and the vow of silence you’ve apparently taken to make this a punishment.

“Oh fuck, y/n, speak for gods—szz—sake,” He whined, leaning his screen back into you and gazing up longingly.

He probably looked pathetic and needy, but he didn’t seem to mind. Fuck, maybe if would even get you to say something.

“Oh my god,” He tugged at the binds on his wrists, which rested behind your neck, “Say something, anything! I wanna hear you.”

He kicked his feet as he struggles, pressure building in his dick, tears pricking the corner of his eyes, and the pleasure coming from the vibrator in his ass. It was all so much but not enough at the same time.

“Jesus christ, please—ssz,” He pleaded up at you, voice catching with the sobs that built up in his chest, “I need to hear you, I need you to t—ttch—talk to me. Tell me how bad I am, I don’t care, just anything!”

He squirmed and thrashed, only for you to suddenly slam his hips down, holding him in place. Still, you didn’t say anything, gazing at him, somewhat bored looking,

Bored looking. That messed with him. How could he be the center of your attention and yet keep you completely not captivated at the same time. It wasn’t fair.

It was even more unfair when your bored expression turned momentarily into a disapproving sneer. Vox didn’t understand for a second, before realizing tears were streaming down his screen.

“Fuck, mommy—fff— please! Mommy—“ He whined and he gave into crying and sobbed half heartedly.

The lights around you flickered and Vox began buffering more regularly.

“Touch me, talk to me—zzz—Please, anything,” he cried up at your unfazed face.

He could feel his climax building, the sensations washing over his untouched dick. He wanted that feeling of brief euphoria.

To entertain himself, he focused on the gasp you had on his hips. The strong, sturdy grasp, keeping him from bucking his dick up into nothing. You were touching him, just barely, but you were. Only a few inches away from the part of him that mattered…

God, is that really where he’s at now? Getting off to a meaningless touch to his hips? That’s pathetic, at least you’d tell him so. You’d tell him that if you were talking to him.

What was the last thing you said to him? He couldn’t remeber, fuzziness clouding his brain. But his attempt to make his orgasm draw closer was working, and it was helped when you turned the vibrator up one more notch.

He cried out desperately, “Oh god. Oh fuck, mommy—“ he gazed up at you with half open, tear ridden eyes, “Can I cum? Please, I’ve taken it— ssz—so good.”

You took this into consideration, remaining cold with your facial expressions. Vox takes a moment to appreciate your closeness, the feel of your breath, the warmth of your hands on his mid section. You were there, even if it didn’t feel like it.

Finally, you nod. Vox moans in celebration, squeezing his eyes shut and—thinking about your scent, your hands, your warmth— let’s go in a moment of pure pleasure.

He falls back against you, breathing heavily. His cock doesn’t wait to harden again, and his desperation for your touch grows stronger.

This time, he doesn’t have to start pleading.

“Good boy,” you coo, hands inching toward his crotch. Depraved and needy, he whines loudly at your words, mumbling soft ‘thank you’s.

Although you keep the vibrator on, your hands play with the bass of his cock, just grazing it. Vox cries loudly.

“Doesn’t feel nice being watched like that, huh?” He shakes his head no, “You want mommy to touch you now? Only if you learned your lesson baby—“

Although desperately needing to speak, he struggles to get the words out, “Zzch— Yes, mommy, please. I’ll be better. I won’t be bad anymore. Just please,” he babbles.

You shush him, taking his cock in your hand and drawing out a needy, watery moan, “Shush, baby, you’re okay now.”

At last, you begin stroking his aching, under stimulated dick.

“Mommy’s here.”

a/n — I so did not have to write a full fic for this what the fuck… bro I blacked out and the voices took over what the fuck.

[yuwuta]

WHEREVER YOU WANNA GO, THAT’S FINE WITH ME — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO 

cw mentioned/talks about death but not like… in a serious way 😭 this whole thing is very unserious and stupid it’s just a thought i couldn’t get out of my head, megumi being… megumi, f2l but what’s new, also inspired by some clip from a tv show i’ve seen on tt but idk the name of it, if you do pls let me know

you ask megumi you make one of those marriage pacts with you—that if neither of you are married by thirty-five, you two will get married to each other—and he just hums for a moment before asking, “do you think i’ll be better suited for marriage at thirty-five?”

“what? n—i don’t know? maybe? it just seems like an appropriate age to get married if you’re not already, that’s all,” you explain.

more humming. he blinks, “i don’t think i’ll be all that different at thirty-five.”

“well, that’s concerning,” you joke, “you’re supposed to change—grow a little bit as a person and all that, megumi. even you are capable of it.”

“i won’t want anything different out of a marriage at thirty-five than i would right now,” he corrects you, then turns to you, and with all seriousness demands, “so, state your stipulations. what do you want from me, let’s figure out of this is gonna work now.” 

you scoff, and cross your arms. “what do i want from you? that’s not how a marriage works.” 

“that’s how this friendship already works.” 

you say, megumi does; he pushes it than he should have, you say to stop, and eventually he does, and the cycle continues. he’s always stubborn, and sacrificing himself beyond necessity, and you’re always pulling his ear for it. 

“okay. fine,” you settle, straightening your posture, “i want a house. three bedrooms, so nobara and yuuji don’t have to bicker about sharing when they stay over.” 

megumi considers it, then counters with, “four. gojo needs a bedroom, too. one floor, i don’t like stairs.” 

“where the fuck are we going to find a one-level four-bedroom house? i don’t want to live in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere.” 

“we’ll find one,” he shrugs, doesn’t flinch when he promises: “or i’ll have one made for us. next: vacations.” 

“twice per year. somewhere tropical, and somewhere metropolitan.” 

“i don’t like the beach.” 

“then you don’t have to go on the beach.” 

“you’re responsible for me if i burn.” 

“i’m responsible for you either way, i’m your wife,” you taunt, “pets, next. i want dogs. two. maybe three. and a bunny.” 

“no bunnies, they’re too much work.”

“but i want a bunny, megumi.” 

“you won’t have time for a bunny,” he rolls his eyes, “and you’re gonna get pissed when it chews up the expensive couch you’re gonna make me buy, and takes a shit in the expensive fruit bowl you’re gonna con gojo out of. no bunnies.” 

you pout and frown, but megumi doesn’t budge: “no bunnies.” 

you sigh, “no bunnies, but i want the dogs.” 

“i didn’t say no to the dogs. unless you want a golden, then i’m not raising that.” 

“why not? we already have yuuji.” 

“exactly, we already have yuuji.” 

“fine. i want a king sized bed. the really big, oversized ones you get in america.” 

“done. children?” 

“you want children?”

megumi shrugs, but you swear there’s a dust of pink on his cheeks, “maybe. maybe not. if i did, no more than two.” 

and suddenly you can’t help but feel heat in your own face, hot with the image of two tiny megumis running around. 

“that’s fine with me. maybe kids, but no more than two,” you cough, “i want one of those heated driveways for the house.”

“i’ll have it built. i’ll clean and do laundry and take out the trash if you cook.”

“what about days i don’t cook?”

“then i’ll do that, too,” megumi nods, “anything else?”

“yes. if i die first, you can remarry, but you visit my grave at least twice a year, and bring peonies. and that picture of me from prom where i look really good.” 

“no.” 

you stop. you blink. “what do you mean ‘no?’ you wouldn’t visit my grave?—kinda cruel considering i birthed your up-to-two future children and raised your dogs.” 

“i won’t remarry. and i don’t want you to if i die first,” he corrects you, again, “and there’s no dying first and leaving me behind, i’m going with you.”

he doesn’t leave room for debate in his declarations: won’t, don’t; not wouldn’t, shouldn’t, couldn’t—you have to pinch yourself to stop chasing the rabbit of temptation running through your mind. 

“i don’t… think you get to decide that,” you chuckle. 

“of course i do,” megumi grins, uncrosses his legs and leans over. he reaches a hand to the back of your head and pushes it forward until your foreheads meet gently; and as if the affection wasn’t shocking enough, he continues, “where you go, i go. that’s marriage, right?” 

he widens his smile a bit, before letting you go, leaning back into his seat again with crossed arms like nothing happened, and you’re left staring, blinking, breathing shallowly like prey that narrowly escaped being caught.

you don’t speak, so megumi does, “i have one more thing.” 

and slowly, you unthaw enough to let out a questioning hum. megumi tilts his head before telling you, “i want your last name.” 

“what? you—you would change your name?” you stutter, “but fushiguro is so pretty! and it’s your mom’s name, so few people get their mother’s names.” 

“yeah. this way, our up-to-two children get their mother’s names, too.” 

“i—okay… yeah, i guess they do,” you gape, then pout, “wait, what if i wanted to be mrs. fushiguro?” 

“tough luck,” he grins, “you get everything else.” 

you get me, instead, is what’s left unsaid. 

“okay, fine. sounds like a deal to me.” 

“great. we can’t have a spring wedding because gojo and toji will sneeze obnoxiously loudly, and we can’t have a summer wedding because the anniversary will conflict with our tropical vacation, and nobara will kill us if it’s too close to her birthday,” he says, standing up from the couch to head to the kitchen, “so i’ll see you at the courthouse in september.” 

you nod reflexively, sinking back into the couch with a satisfied smile. it’s a while before your brain processes his words, and when it finally does, you spring up in a fluster, “october? megumi, i said when when we’re thirty-five and if neither of us are already married! megumi? megumi fushiguro, come back here!” 

[queenofcoquette]

confidence

introduction:

hey loves! one thing i’ve observed in self improvement spaces online is an obsession with confidence, and how to be confident. i’ve seen those red-pill guys give toxic confidence tips for guys, and self improvement girls give toxic confidence advice for girls. confidence is something we all desire because it's something we generally need more of, or help with.

what really is confidence?

confidence is shown internally and externally. internally it’s a mindset we need to work on. externally we present ourselves as someone who is secure in themselves. i think both are important- when you show it, you start to feel it a little bit.

internal- we walk into a room without comparing ourselves to others. we don’t think that we’re superior or inferior to anyone

internal- we still love ourselves after mistakes

internal- we recognize that we’re human and sometimes slip up

internal- we take care of ourselves and think positive thoughts

internal- we don’t view other people as competition

internal- we don’t care about what other people think of us

external- we treat people with kindness

external- we stay out of drama & gossip

external- we have straight posture

external- we make eye contact & smile when we talk

external- we’re friendly to other people

external- we try new things

external- we avoid making self-depricating comments

external- we don’t try to get validation from other people

internal changes:

writing down insecurities, fears, etc.- have a journal to write about how you feel, it really does help

avoid comparing other people. when you start doing it- just tell yourself to stop. it won’t work at first, but eventually you’ll stop doing so.

reminders. remind yourself that not everyone is judging you- people are caught up in their own lives and insecurities too. remind yourself we all fall and make mistakes, but you have the power to get back up.

meditation. i had to go back to this cuz i wasn’t feeling too good. i do 5 minute meditations- you can find guided ones on youtube. they’re very quick so it won’t take too much time out of your day.

external changes: (aka fake it til u make it)

walk with a straight back and lift your chin up

practice making eye contact talking

taking care of yourself. at my time at military school we were taught that self respect also means taking care of your appearance, and just looking good. you don’t need to put effort into your looks in terms of doing your hair and nails and makeup- but just look someone put together, and if you want then go above and beyond. when you look good, you feel good!

working out. exercise is proven to make you feel better, and when you put effort into yourself (which includes more than exercise, things like stretching, good hygeine) you’re going to feel better.

give people genuine compliments

stop self depricating talk. stop calling yourself dumb or ugly, or all those things. first of, it makes other people feel like they can do it to you, and it will make you feel worse about yourself!

surround yourself with people who make you feel good.

conclusion:

it takes time to feel confident, and you definitely won’t feel it 24/7. i still get horribly insecure sometimes and i know i still have a lot of growth to make, but by implementing these changes it’s a first step- and by staying consistent you’ll get closer to seeing yourself in a healthier light. of course if your self hatred is to the point where it’s causing serious damage to yourself/your mental health you should get treatment. 

[liaswills]

Pick a card: What does this person want to say to you? ❤️

Good evening lovely darlings! I'm back with another Tumblr Tarot post- for the delusional girlies, this is another What would this person want to say to you? Particularly love focused! This could be a message from a S/O- or F/s/o or perhaps even a f/o! Depending on your degree of delulu, ofcourse. :)

Pick a pile! Use the pics underneath or go based on intuition. Thankyou! ❤️

Oh, love of mine. What wonders there are to be found when you look into my eyes. This is all poetic, truly, but in my soul, the deepest parts of it, I know that you'll still be hoping to come back to me. It is the way things are. I can't change it- even if I wanted to. I watch you. I see you. I hope you know I do believe in you- I love you. When I see tears on your cheeks, streaking like some porcelain beauty, some victorian soul, gauging at what is left of me, gauging at what the eye cannot see, I long to hold your hand, softly press a kiss to it and tell you all I have seen in you that you do not see. I would take you to my favourite spot, walk the whole way just to talk to you, I would tell you what I have been wanting to let you know- that no matter where I am, or what you do, or who we are, in our very souls, we are always one and the same. We are alike. Perhaps in spirit, personality, or maybe just in how we devote ourselves to spirituality, or God, but I know that I am yours if you will be mine. But you haven't been coming to me. You don't want to be mine yet. I know you think you do- but you're not ready for this. Neither am I. I have found myself trying to build what was left- to build a new. I have found I wanted to incorporate more of the old into my new life and therefore I am struggling to find my way to you- it will show some day but I will make time free. Free time for you. I promise you this. I fear some day, you may leave me entirely. Yet even when this happens, I'm but a cinder. I'm but a memory. A distant person you once knew. Distant eyes you once reflected upon, talked to, listened to, hoped for, wished and yearned. I'll not be the same because you won't either. We grow with one another. Tell me you love me. I need to know this. I need you to tell it straight to my face, to my memory, to my thought, to my soul, just think it. Think, say, breathe it. I will know when you do. Thank you for thinking of me today, I appreciate it.

You'll always be my true love, you know? ❤️

It's in his kiss, that's where it is. You can feel when I love you truly, baby, because I would kiss you like you've never felt before. I'd go as slow as you want, as sensual as I could ever be, as loving as I could try, I would do it for you. I know we don't know each other that well yet. We are new. But even if you know me for a long time, this feeling is new. We haven't been together before- not in other lives. I haven't loved you yet. This is new to me. I think we would fit together.... I am confused about it however. I'm not really sure what I want. I know, I am indecisive. But with you- it does feel right, it does feel... like I am a child again kissing his first crush. It feels this way- which is why I think it's important that we continue to communicate, about what you want, about what I want... it'll make this easier because I can't smell what is on your mind. I can sense your feelings, I am very empathic, but I don't know what you're thinking. And I have the feeling you're led by your thoughts, just as I am. We are horrible in listening to ourselves. Perhaps, I am better at giving you advice than I am for myself but in truth, it should be me who has to do the work and approach you, romance you, love you, not the other way around. You're so kind to me- this bamboozles the shit out of me because I am not technically seen as an approachable nice person, so your energy it really confuses me for that reason. Am I not repulsive? Do you not... want to run away from me? You're making my bad thoughts about myself resurface and dissolve all the same. When I think or look at you, even for a second, I just know that I am looking at something good. I know this is something to be cherished. Can I trust my own feeling however? I'm not too sure. I want you to know this. Just to make some clarification about where I am right now. I am not trying to push you away- nor do I want you gone AT ALL I need you and I want you by my side but I am just a torn up dunderhead. Forgive me?

"She's one of my favourite things." This is what I say when people ask about you. Hm, yes, I know. From me? You're surprised. I know some days you may think I don't know you, or don't like you, but I do, I like you a lot. You're my princess, in any fairytale that exists. And the divine to my subservient self. I'd worship you. Cherish you. Because, I know, that for you not to leave me, I have to step up and treat you well. I will be forthcoming, I will be consistent, and I will try to make your life as much of a priority as I will mine. It's not black and grey with me. It's quite clear with me. I want you to be mine. I need to marry you- some day or now. I do not care when. That's how serious I am. That's how real this feels for me. I don't need to figure this out by a 10 hour astrology research to compare my charts to yours. I don't need to figure out via a deity about what time you're going to call or text. I need to know just one thing- and that is that I can trust my feelings. I want you to trust yours. If you do- if you do feel for me, If you do cherish me, or even like me, or god above, if you even love me, if you could, that you won't break it hard on me. Do it gently. Tell me how you love me, and when you leave me, so I know it's easier. If you ever leave me, I would try to have you one more day. I really would. Not in spite or because I want some silly disgusting energy break up sex but because...I would just want to look at you, once more, see you, breathe you, just touch your hand perhaps, or even your hair, to just sit there and tell you nothing or a lot. But I wouldn't ever try to hurt you, I will never try to do this I just hope... perhaps... that you won't hurt me, all right? Can you do this for me? Can you do everything gently? (Except the sex, I don't need it to be gentle ok) but you get what I mean. My heart, my feelings, are much more tender than I can confess. I may look tough. I may be someone you think is tough- perhaps I am, maybe I am also that, but one word of you can silence me forever. Trust on that. So use your words well with me, it'll be better for both of us. Don't you think? I love you. ❤️

God speed your love to me. You thought this was going to be the romantic pile, didn't you? Hahahaha! Bitch please! I am your worst nightmare. Just kidding, I am just incapable of showing you the love you so desire and dream of. What is it with you and me? You like me obsessively. Trust me, your guides and I have been chatting away for a bit and you're.... well, let's just say, you're at wits end about me, aren't you darling? Hehe. I like when you're mad. Some days, I just think how lovely it would be if you'd be in my arms and I could just... have a peek at that lovely chest of yours. Too dirty? I understand. You think I'm a pervert. Honestly, darling, I do too. That's what I hide behind, mostly, truthfully, I'm disgusting myself sometimes, especially during those solo hours. You don't want to believe the things I've thought about you- oh my god. If my life's work and thoughts would ever get published, it would be the biggest event of all lifetime. The world would stop. The M25 would be in a traffic jam all fucking year- don't know why, but it would, wouldn't it? Say, I know you from somewhere... that's what I always say, I always begin with that. And then, I would transgress your interest and I would try and lure you into thinking of me. And when you're thinking of me, I am thinking of how you're hopelessly and desperately thinking of me and then I'll- you know, get creative thinking of you. Honey, what am I to you? Though? Like- can we be real? Am I your friend? Your lover? Your nemesis? Your teacher? Your mentor? What the fuck are we? I am so confused ! 🤣 You say things that literally bolder me off the side of the road and throw me right into the cut. Like can we pretend that for one day, you and I aren't you and I and then we can be delusional together in our own little world? You'd like that right? Well, I would too. I need to escape whatever the hell this is, or this life is, and then we can get coffee and a drink or two and you can tell me what we're going to do about this, about us, because I can't stop thinking how we are going to solve this or do this or just... how. Hm :) You look good. Just wanted to say that. Take some medicine when you feel bad, especially cramps. Take good care of yourself. I could write to you forever- know that. You can reach out to me.