#when the entire universe revolved around one person

[florida3exclamationpoints]

(I love you Emma Swan I mean absolutely no shade to Emma Swan) it's crazy to me that ouat was The Emma Swan Show??? I mean I know especially season 1 was centered around her pov but the entire show revolved around Rumple. Every plot revolved around Rumple. Every character had an important connection to Rumple. Emma's most important relationships came from Rumple. Everything is about Rumple. It's always about Rumple. He just tricks you in the first season by pretending to be Behind The Scenes when actually he is The Main Character.

[tiffanys-aus-and-headcanons]

Terrible Visions

A scrambled timeline is a timeline that has proceeded much like ours, except that some particular facet has been mixed up all over the place. For example, in the scrambled timeline we will consider today, our world's fictional stories have been told by different people, and in different ways.

Bryan Lee O'Malley, in this alternate timeline, is best known as the cartoonist responsible for Homestuck, a popular comic series about a group of children who become embroiled in a cosmic-scale video game known as Sburb. Although Homestuck is probably most often associated with the cult classic Edgar Wright-directed film adaptation released in 2016, the comics themselves are highly-regarded, and the film brought a new audience to them. Netflix has commissioned an animated continuation, The Homestuck Epilogues, which is due to be released soon.

Andrew Hussie, on the other hand, is a figure you're likelier to know if you're overly online. His "MS Paint Adventures" series - most notably including Scott Pilgrim Vs The World, which is kind of like Homestuck but weirder and hornier - have firmly remained a fixture of obsessive Twitter fandom culture. It doesn't help that the best-known iteration, Scott Pilgrim Vs The World, is infamous for stretching thousands of pages of meandering digressions out of a simple and focused narrative starting point. Scott Pilgrim fans have developed something of a toxic reputation, which is not entirely deserved - although of course Knives discourse is interminable, and back in the fandom's heyday there were reportedly incidents of fans assaulting each other "for being evil exes".

Scott Pilgrim fandom was very big back in the day, though, and consequently it was a nexus for other creative figures who would go on to surpass Hussie. Perhaps foremost among these is indie developer Toby Fox. He was literally living in Hussie's basement when he produced ROSEQUARTZ, a universally-beloved retro Goonies-like RPG about a human hybrid boy born to a race of gem-based aliens. He's now developing an episodic spiritual successor, RAZORQUEST, with more overtly dark themes. It revolves around an inheritance dispute among a demon-summoning family.

Other foundational figures in this timeline's internet culture include Alison Bechdel, who helped get the webcomic scene started. Although she's now more seriously acclaimed for her personal memoirs, her gaming webcomic Press Start To Dyke, which premiered in 1998, was once everywhere. It had a broad appeal, and at its height, it was common to see even straight guys sharing pages from it. Time has not been especially kind to it, though, and at this point its main legacy is test.png, a meme spawned by one of the comic's most ill-advised pages.

Then there's John C. McCrae, more often known by his pseudonym Wildbow. A prolific and reclusive author of doorstopping "web serials" - long-form fiction published online - McCrae's best-known serial is still his first, Wind, a noir superhero story set in an alternate history where capes are mostly just a subculture of unpowered vigilantes. Wind landed in a culture already rife with comic book deconstructions, like Alan Moore's 2002 graphic novel Worm Turns, but it nonetheless managed to stand out from the pack with its extensive cast of characters and its themes of coordination problems and the end of the world. Later McCrae web serials include Part (the first "Otherverse" serial; an urban fantasy story about a couple who die in a car accident and find that they have become ghosts), Tear (a "biopunk" story set in a collapsing underwater city), Warn (the controversial Wind sequel), and Play (the second "Otherverse" serial, set in a small Indiana town that helps hide a psychic girl from the CIA).

Last and perhaps least, we should discuss J. K. Rowling. Far and away the most famous of any of these authors, Rowling's name is inseparable from the YA series that she debuted with, the Luz Noceda books, which remain her one successful work. Although it was heavily derivative of older fantasy novels - like Jill Murphy's Academy For Little Witches, or Philip Pullman's Methods Of Rationality trilogy - Luz Noceda was still a monumental and unprecedented success in the publishing industry, and the film adaptations were consistent blockbusters. The final book, Luz Noceda and the Watcher of Rain, contained some allusions to a romantic relationship between Luz and her recently-redeemed associate Amity. Rowling confirmed that this was her intent in subsequent interviews and indicated that she had fought her publishers for it; the film would then go on to escalate matters slightly further.

There have been many lengthy and heated online arguments as to whether the references in the book itself constitute text or mere subtext. Whatever your stance on this discourse, a new complication has been introduced recently: although she has put out no official statement on the matter as of yet, it has become quite apparent from Rowling's shrinking network of contacts and her conspicuous silences that she is certainly TERF-sympathetic, and likely an outright TERF herself. For many, this is leading to a critical reevaluation of the social values inherent in the Luz Noceda series; others, to say the least, are holding off on that kind of reappraisal.

Anyway, Scott Pilgrim just beat Luz Noceda in a Twitter poll for Most Gay Media, and people are piiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiissed

[memryse]

if mcyt isn’t fiction then

people who create dnd characters that are similar to them in personality are just playing themselves and should not be treated as having made a character

people who make any other dnd character should also be treated as just playing themselves since people refuse to even consider roleplay smps as fiction

any ocs someone puts a bit of themselves into? nope not fiction!

actors who play a character with the same first name as them aren’t really acting

and so on

maybe YOU can’t separate characters and real people and think that everything you see from a youtuber even when they’re explicitly acting is how they are in real life but we as a fandom just don’t have that issue lol. we’ve had disclaimers and indicators for when we’re talking about characters and not content creators for years because a certain smp contained a character having suicidal thoughts as a result of abuse at the hands of another character and we needed to make it absolutely crystal clear that we were referring to a fictional storyline and not real guy #1 being an abuser and real guy #2 being suicidal. these customs have either extended into other corners of mcyt fandom, or some developed their own independently like hispanic mcyt fans have used the word cubito to distinguish mc guy from real life guy from years, a term that other language speakers liked so much we’ve also started picking it up lol

we know exactly what we’re doing. i get that the line maybe does seem more blurred to an outsider looking in (i wouldn’t know given that both my first fandom at age 12 and current fandom at age 20 were mcrp lol) but it’s universally understood amongst us. i don’t have a problem separating hermitcraft!gem and empires s1!gem the wizard with a twin brother and empires s2!gem the princess and cc!gem the real life canadian woman.

idk it rubs me the wrong way that after years of trying to explain this we’re either met with people calling us racists because of three guys that the rest of us (all of us, really, because dream team fans do not claim to be minecraft fans. those are the type to actually write rpf and ship the real life racist guys) hate probably a lot more than any of you do, or they watch a few minutes of a less roleplay-heavy series/part and decide that the entire medium is invalid as a form of storytelling

it’s so annoying. i don’t think we need to be understood to have validity as a fandom we’ve been doing this for years already without that but it is so infuriating and sad how whenever there’s some kind of fandom poll thing one of three things happens

mcyt fans are banned outright and placed on the same level as something like hp

an mcyt fan runs their own and gets harassed for it

a non-mcyt fan allows us in until they get harassed so badly by whatever fandoms we go up against that they end up deleting our bracket

in what world is that normal behaviour. and that harassment always involves calling them all racist cishet white men such as misgendering both eret (real life bisexual genderqueer person) and their character (also queer), attempting to harass jimmy solidarity fans because jimmy makes mc videos so he must be a dream associate (the only time they interacted was in a tournament during which dream and georgenotfound shittalked jimmy’s best friends to his face), all the shit quackity has gotten for being a former friend of the dream team as if he wasn’t the #1 victim of their racism and xenophobia, the fact that any time c!technoblade is involved in a poll we have to beg other fandoms not to talk shit about him because the real life man died of cancer before dream’s grooming allegations came out, similarly when tfc was in one. and so on and so forth. all because people can’t separate roleplay and real life and think that the entire minecraft sphere revolves around dream just because their idea of mcyt does (not even his own smp named after him did that).

[farfromstrange]

Now That We Don't Talk | Frank Castle x F!Reader

BONUS FIC

See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!

Read Is It Over Now? for better clarity.

Pairing: Frank Castle x F!Reader (past Matt Murdock x F!Reader)

Summary: You go home with the guy from the bar, and he makes you forget about your ex.

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), oral f!receiving, use of "attagirl", slight Dom!Frank, song references, unprotected p in v, dirty talk

Word Count: 2.9k

A/n: You wanted a part 2, so you're getting a part 2! Anyway, I don't write Frank often, so I hope it isn't too bad. It's also not as spicy as you probably expected, but I wanted this to fit the vibe of the previous fic (link above). You don't need to have read it to understand this, but it is highly recommended because some references might confuse you. Thank you all for taking part in this event!

You believed that your life had ended when you lost him. He painted your world in the brightest colors, but by breaking your heart, he took them away. All that was left to see was a boring shade of gray in a sea of sadness. 

Matt told you from the start that being with him wouldn’t be easy. You were willing to try. He needed someone, and you wanted to be that someone to him. You accepted him unconditionally. 

In the end, giving everything wasn’t enough. He chose her over you, and the castle you two had built came crashing down on you while he stood idly by. 

You’re not a bitter person, you have never been, but he made you fall for him; he made you believe that there was hope for the future and that you would grow old together. He stole years of your life in which you were trying to save him from himself. In return, he took the best care of you, but that doesn’t matter much now that he has taken your heart and shattered it like a glass of red wine on a white cloth. 

When you left him, you thought the distance would kill you. You truly believed that this was the end of everything, not just your relationship with the man you thought was the one but yourself as well. “This isn’t what it looks like!” he said the day you found out the ugly truth.

“I trusted you,” you remember saying. You couldn’t even cry. The pain burned brighter than the sun, and it dried your eyes before they could even shed a tear.  

He argued with you that, “It was just a kiss,” but you not once believed him. 

“Are you sure about that? ‘Cause if I ask Elektra, I’m sure she will tell me the truth.”

“No.”

It was at that moment you lost all of your trust in him—in what could have been or should have been the two of you, forever—and it was also the moment that Matt realized he had lost you. 

You believed that he took everything you ever were that day because your life revolved around him, and only him. 

You remember him opening his mouth, having the audacity to apologize. “I’m sorry,” he said, begging you not to leave. 

“Fuck you!” you had never sworn at him until that day.

You still remember the way the necklace with his initial felt when you tore it off your neck and tossed it at his feet. He knew you better than anyone, and you felt like you finally belonged somewhere. That necklace was a symbol of your undying love, or so you thought, anyway. Now you know that he may have known you to some extent, but you didn’t matter enough for him not to climb into bed with his ex-girlfriend.

You couldn’t even look at the necklace. He told you, “This is a piece of my heart,” when he gave it to you on a snowy Christmas Day three years ago. You cherished it the same way you cherished his soul. He was broken, but he was your broken man. He was everything to you. 

Matt Murdock was your moon, your son, and your entire universe. It all seemed far away that you could ever feel about anyone this way again. 

You saw a future with him. Married, a house in the suburbs, and working with Foggy and Karen in their new law office after everything they’ve been through. You were a hopeful person back then.

Karen told you that he went to a party a couple of weeks after you separated. He didn’t look like himself. You wonder if he felt anxious, knowing his only source of comfort was no longer there. You wouldn’t know until you asked him, but you refused to answer his calls.

Part of you felt euphoric, knowing that he was broken too, but you also felt angry because he was the reason you found your heart beyond repair as he stepped on it like a burning cigarette, and in your mind, he had no right to feel this way.

You’re a fucking traitor, Matthew Murdock! I wish we’d never met.

“Another one for the lady,” a voice says beside you. 

Your empty glass of tequila disappears and a full one slides in its place. In your drunken haze, you see a head of brown hair, and his smirk makes you wonder if there’s more to him than he lets on. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, tipping your glass to the stranger. 

“Nah, don’t thank me.” He gets up from his seat and sits down on the empty bar stool next to you. “You look miserable,” he says.

“What if I am?”

“I’d tell you I know the feeling.”

You huff but offer the stranger your hand. You introduce yourself. 

He smiles. Your name rolls off his tongue effortlessly. “Frank,” he introduces himself in return. “Castle.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say. 

You thought nothing and no one could pull you out of the dark hole your breakup tossed you into. You believed yourself dead and long beyond the point of redemption. You accepted it. You swallowed in your misery, giving up on finding a new purpose in your life because the one great thing you had was no longer yours. He fell into a grave that he dug for himself, and he dragged your relationship down with him.

Looking into Frank’s eyes now though, you no longer feel like a corpse. And you realize that you are not dead, not at all—you are very much alive. 

The door almost breaks off its hinges when Frank shoves you into his apartment and back against it. The decision to come back to his place was fueled by a lot of alcohol and the way he looked at you. You were desperate to feel something other than the hollow ache that has consumed you every day for months. His eyes told you that he may be able to give you just what you need, no strings attached.

The way he kisses you breathes new life into your mangled soul. He swallows your mouth and your needy moans with his own, and his tongue forces itself down your throat as your teeth clash in a fight for dominance. You’re both tipsy, but he seems to know just what he’s doing.

His calloused fingers burn against your skin. In the back of your mind, Matt is still so present. His hands are the ones you can’t help but compare him to. 

The way he used to kiss you before fucking you into the mattress for hours on end, switching between tasting and fingering you until you were whimpering and begging him for release might have screwed you up forever. He told you one night that he wanted to ruin you for any other man. Back then, you both still believed that you would grow old together.

It is truly ironic how fast things change when you are truly happy and believe that nothing can burst your bubble.

Frank’s large hands brace against the door on either side of your head. His lips disappear from yours. “Who is he?” he asks, his voice rough like gravel.

You meet his eyes, unsure of what to say. Your mind is everywhere but here, and yet it is right with him. Whether it is alcohol or self-loathing, you’re not sure. 

“What?” you whisper.

“You’re trynna forget someone. Who is it?”

He is a lot more perceptive than you thought.

You swallow, blood rushing to your head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t–” you didn’t what? Think? You feel utterly pathetic.

Instead of throwing you out though, like you expected he would, he reaches out to caress your cheek. His eyes soften as they gaze at you. “Whoever he is, he obviously didn’t treat you right,” he says. “If you want to go, I’m not stoppin’ you, but if you wanna forget whoever is fuckin’ with your head, I’ll make damn sure you forget his name by the end of tonight.”

There is something excitingly terrifying about the look in his eyes. A shiver runs down your spine, and your thighs clench at the thought of feeling his hands somewhere other than your face. Somewhere other than your hips and thighs. His kisses knocked the air out of your lungs. You want more, you need more, but you don’t know if you can take it. Not him—even though you’re also not quite sure if you can take him—but also the offer he is presenting to you. As lucrative as it sounds, fuck, you are not over Matt. And you’re not sure if you can ever forget him.

You want to though. You have to. And you want to be thoroughly fucked into the next day and forget the name of the man that makes you so fucking angry.  

“Talk to me,” Frank coaxes your head toward him. “Do you wanna forget the useless bastard that made you feel this way?”

“Yes,” you manage a breathless whisper.

“Did he hurt you? Break your heart?”

You nod.

“You deserve better.” His grip tightens, and his hand slowly slides to your neck. “I’m not, but I’ll fuck you so hard, you’ll forget his name and scream mine loud enough for this fuckin’ city to know who’s making you feel good. ‘s that what you want, hm?”

He’s dangerous, but that has never turned you off, even when it should have.

And when you finally open your mouth and tell him, “Yes, please. Make me forget,” the switch inside of him flicks completely.

He takes his time to worship between your thighs. His tongue buried in your pussy, his lips sucking on your clit without mercy. He eats you out roughly but sensually, keeping you spread wide open for him with both of his hands and a force unmatched—like a five-course meal, and he has all the time in the world for you. 

You’re lost in the throes of pleasure. You want to buck your hips against his mouth because no matter what he does, you’re on fire and you just can’t get enough, but he is so powerful that you can’t fight him. He has you at his mercy, your body in his hands, and all the control in the world over you. 

You pull at his hair, moaning helplessly as he feasts on your pussy. You’re going mad, you’re sure. He’s doing this on purpose, driving you to the edge before stopping the wave. Frank waits until your orgasm is just far enough for you to last a little longer, kissing the inside of your thighs, and then he dives right back into your wet folds. He thrusts his tongue into your hole, licks up to your clit, and then sucks on the swollen bundle until your legs are shaking in his hands. 

“Jesus, Frank!” you moan out. A trail of sweat runs from your temple down to your breasts. 

Your hands search for something to hold onto, tangling in the sheets and the pillow behind your head before pulling at the fabric. You tried pulling at his hair, but he wouldn’t let you. 

“That’s right,” he growls. “Come for me.”

Your back arches off the mattress. His name leaves your lips in a desperate shout as your orgasm crashes into you. 

“Attagirl.”

Your brain is hulled into an endless fog, but Frank doesn’t stop. 

Soon, you’re on your stomach, gripping the headboard as he pounds into you from behind. He is long and thick, and with every thrust, he forces your face deeper into the pillows. Your eyes have rolled back into your head. He hits that spongy spot inside of you whenever he pleases, and the gurgled moans from the pit of your throat spur him on to speed up, change the angle and thrust even deeper. 

He pulls out all the way, thrusting back into you with full force until he is completely sheathed in your pussy. Your heat consumes him, and he sees red. But so do you. He has reduced you to a few incoherent thoughts, babbling his name in the wake of the drool that is dripping from the corner of your mouth. 

And when you come this time, it is pulled back straight against his chest with his fingers rubbing circles over your already abused clit. You come with a scream of his name, and nothing else matters but his cum in your cunt and the unbelievable depth of the feelings he is eliciting within you. 

You drop to the mattress like a wet towel, covered in his and your cum, and your sweat that has mingled with his. His smell lingers in the sheets as you bury your nose in it. He collapses on top of you. The crushing weight of him offers a sense of comfort that almost makes you cry. And he holds you as though you mean more to him than a One-Night stand he picked up to help forget a man who broke her heart. 

“What’d he do?” Frank asks into the silence later that night.

You are lying on his bed, covered by only his thin sheets. He’s sitting on the other side, nursing a glass of Bourbon. He held you, he cleaned you up, and he offered you some clothes, which you denied. He is kinder to you than you thought he would be, and it warms your heart in a way you can only deem utterly dangerous with how vulnerable you are. Broken people make dumb decisions, and you do not ever want to go through the same pain again. 

At least you know that you are still desired. That you’re not dead. Perhaps, there is still hope for a better future. You made Matt Murdock your life for the longest time, and maybe, as you realize now, that was a mistake. There is more to life than him, and you can live without him. That it took fucking a stranger after weeks of being miserable baffles you, but some things are just meant to happen. Maybe it was destiny, after all. 

You look at him when Frank repeats his question. “What’d the bastard do, hm?” he asks.

Where do you even start? 

When you last checked in on him through your mutual friends—you know it wasn’t the best choice, but you couldn’t help it—they told you that grew his beard, and he last had a haircut when you were still together. It suits him, apparently, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at a picture of him.

Foggy told you that he isn’t taking home girls when they go to a bar, even though he could have all of them. He’s sad. He drowns himself at work and beats his fist bloody every night. The old you would have jumped up to help him. And it is true that you will probably always love him, in a way, but you refuse to crawl back to him.

The more you gave, the more he took, and at the first chance at getting a woman he claimed to no longer love when she came back into your lives, he took her. He couldn’t have wanted you as badly as he claimed if that was enough for him to flush years of loving each other and going through hell together down the drain, knowing it would break your heart into a million pieces. That is probably the worst part about all of it.

You take a deep breath. Frank is still staring at you intently, waiting for an answer. “He fucked his ex,” you finally confess. “Four years of being together and it still wasn’t enough.”

His grip tightens around his glass. “Want me to pay him a visit?”

You chuckle, but you know that he would. “No. But thank you.”

Matt was fading long before you left. Even if you did choose to forgive him, you couldn’t be his friend, so things are better the way they are now. You paid the ultimate price for sacrificing your heart to a man who had too many struggles to deal with himself.

In the silence, you find a little light. “At least I don’t have to pretend to like Jazz anymore,” you say. 

Frank takes another sip, asking, “Jazz?”

“Yeah, Jazz. He loves it. He…He’s special. Well, he was to me, anyway.”

“Special? Fuck, the guy did a number on you, huh?”

You scoff. “You have no idea.”

The only way back to your dignity is to learn how to be without him. You have to turn yourself back into a mystery and learn how to trust someone again before your fragile heart breaks again.

“You still talk?” Frank asks.

You shake your head. “No. It’s over now,” you say. “We don’t talk anymore.”

“Told ya. You deserve better.”

“Nah.” You reach for his glass, taking a sip of the bitter liquor that you used to despise. Looking up at him through hooded eyes, you stretch his leg toward him. 

You need to keep forgetting Matt’s name, no matter what it takes or the reminiscing will surely kill you.

“Right now,” you murmur with an irresistible smirk that makes him leap at you as soon as the words pass your lips, “I just need to forget he ever existed by screaming someone else’s name.” 

Frank captures your lips in a bruising kiss, leaving you speechless and breathless all the same. 

Matt chased you, he caught you, and then he lost you. And now that Frank has you, you never want to look back. 

Now that you don't talk.

I don't have a tag list for Frank, so I'm just leaving this here.

[neptunes-sol-angel]

Ah 👅🤭 Pick the picture(s) that you're drawn to the most, then scroll for its corresponding message on how YOU 🫵🏾 can achieve a Hot Girl Summer this year.

Paid Readings | Botanica | Tip Jar

Pile One 🔥

I have the feeling that you’re coming out of this stage of ruminating over the things that don’t make you feel the best. Even if it’s not a strong sign yet, what’s working for you behind the scenes is that the universe is basically telling you “it’s okay to stop crying for now because it’s time to enjoy yourself”. Your hot girl summer is about doing things in moderation. Knowing when it’s time to save, and also when it’s time to spend. Knowing when you need alone time to sit with your feelings, and when it’s time to give that a rest. The word “hibernation” is significant, which makes sense because there are a lot of themes revolving around what you consider home. Maybe you guys are changing your residency or are feeling stuck energy in your house. Even if you can’t do your entire house, find one room that you can renovate to your liking and comfort. Finding inspiration for how to decorate this spot for you on pinterest could be extremely helpful. Making a consistent effort to read more books is something that would benefit you, if you don’t know where to start, read about Feng Shui or look up credible articles about it. Choose the genre that interests you the most, but what I see for people in this pile is that foreign philosophies and anthropology would fuel some life into you. Some of you could feel more fulfillment in being a homebody this summer, so it’s important to make your home as comfortable as possible. For others, where you stay just isn’t capable of being what you need it to be, so this summer will be about finding what feels like home to you by going out to find a place to frequent. To be specific, there could be a shopping center that’s recreational, and is a safe haven for creatives, small business owners, and plenty of spots to host different events that give you the opportunity to meet people and start genuine connections with. To make this a hot girl summer, you have to put yourself out there when it comes to dedicating commitment to yourself. In the past you could have envied others on social media who always seemed to make the most out of their life, but you must understand that you can do that too, but it requires you to search and take action. Look up festivals that could be happening in your city, learn how to crochet, go to that karaoke session at that indie coffee shop, learn how to bake or cook, or turn your room into a movie theater by going on a marathon of watching new movies and TV shows. Work with your imagination to propel you forward. Spiritually, it would be a good investment for some people in this pile to start setting up their altar, start with a color that you feel vibrates your soul at the moment then think about the things that symbolically represent figures in your spiritual team. Keep in mind that your altar doesn’t have to be a castle, your guides appreciate your intention the most. Create a private space for mood boards specifically related to how you want your home to be, make it personal, descriptive, and intentional as possible with the pictures you use and watch how it will manifest one by one like a bingo card.

Pile Two 🔥

Your hot girl summer is about rebellion. Do things outside of the norm of what you usually do. I’m hearing “control it!” lol, you guys are getting a boost in your sensuality, realizing how potent your sexual energy is, but learning what’s the best way to embody it and what pleasures you the most, but always make sure that you are protected. Taking tantric, pole, or even samba dancing classes or could be invigorating for you, but also having the confidence to wear the clothes you’ve been envisioning yourself in, which doesn’t have to mean showing more skin, but anything that relates to freedom and not feeling insecure about your body. Stretching your body, swaying your body, exercising your body, and nourishing it with foods that are both healthy oriented and guilty meals that you’re craving. Avoid things and people that hold you back. If you’re around fickle people who constantly talk about things they want to do with you until it’s actually time to start initiating plans to hang out, don’t let them slow you down and doing things by yourself, because you more than likely will enjoy it more without their presence while also meeting new people who are more reliable and match your enthusiasm. Form healthy relationships with substances and never feel like you need alcohol or drugs to have fun or to make yourself more appealing. Traveling to caribbean islands or even meeting caribbean folk will be positively life changing for you. Sun bathing and resting outside or taking daily walks will energize you especially on your days where you are in need to get out of a sluggish mood. Give yourself permission to be spontaneous, but always remember that spontaneity doesn’t mean to put your life in danger. Time may feel surreal for you, so if you procrastinate on things like buying that ticket to that music festival, picking up that seasonal job, or deciding to take summer courses for your education or to help amplify your talents, take that chance because it will save you from that eerie fear of missing out and it will be worth it. I get the feeling that you don’t take enough pictures of yourself or you could feel taking videos or pictures make an experience more lackluster, but the key for really everything that you plan to do this summer, is to not indulge. Take pictures of yourself because you have a gorgeous face that deserves to be captured, and take pictures to encapsulate memories so that you can positively reminisce on how you conquered this summer. Spiritually, take a visit to a new metaphysical shop. Learn how you can utilize herbs into your diet or for your wellbeing, or even to aid in any conjuring that you feel called to do. Group work is important, if you can, try going on a spiritual retreat. For more attainable options, participating in group sound baths or beach yoga sessions will suffice too.

Pile Three 🔥

It looks like you guys are trying to be off the grid. Like NO Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, or Tiktok presence and you know what, I respect it. Having a Hot Girl Summer is about what you unapologetically make it and the best way for you to express yourself and show up for yourself. I’m already seeing your exhaustion with certain connections that are both in your present and in the past and I completely understand why you’re just not feeling people right now and you don’t have to be in everyone’s face to be seen and perceived. What you can do to make this experience more livelier for you will probably ignite an adrenaline rush in you. I keep getting this visual of people dressing up in superhero costumes or wearing a mask, like a Batman helmet for instance. I know that’s random, but that’s the energy that I get from you guys and I dig it. I can see you guys benefiting from wiping out all of your social media accounts, but still unintentionally getting attention for it? However, at the same time, your identity could be concealed for your privacy, probably thanks to your social media accounts. I’m seeing this ebb and flow of being far away from people like temporarily staying in secluded rural or forest area to do hiking, mountain climbing, and something with a lot of swimming, maybe even scuba diving for a month, then one month you’re out going to crazy parties or events where no one knows exactly who you are but are fascinated with the vibe that you portray. Maybe you actually do wear masks (or sunglasses!) There's also something about the night life being significant for you too, like you’re more nocturnal, this could also mean that you need to be careful with your sleeping patterns and try your best to be consistent with how much sleep you’re getting and the quality of it. This independence is going to attract a lot of admiration from strangers and even people that you know personally. It seems like your Hot Girl Summer is about respecting your phases in how much you want to partake in the social scene and how much you withdraw to invest into your self-concept and shadow work about themes that play out in both your good and bad relationships. This pile is also for my content creators, it’s really time to get into your bag and work on your craft with more effort and regularity. Writing is significant as well as returning back to what your mission is. There is something that you want to convey out for whoever who needs it, this could be personal, self-help tips for others, awareness about environmental issues, or just finally writing and publishing that book. Keep going with it because this summer is your time to shine and get recognized for your efforts. Spiritually, meditation is going to be your best friend, you need a lot of quiet time for your mental health and also some space to release some stress.

[ethanedwardsnumberonefan]

Is It Over Now?

Rafe Cameron x Reader

angst, angst, angst

Word Count: 1K

Summary: Breaking up with Rafe was one of the hardest things to do, but at least you’d be free and feel good right? …Right?

A/N: I’ve never written a fic before um

And did you think I didn't see you?

There were flashing lights

At least I had the decency

To keep my nights out of sight

Rafe Cameron, a name you hear all throughout Kildare, not always in a good context but often with the name Y/N L/N attached to it. Since in diapers you and Rafe knew each other. Best friends to lovers is what it was, the perfect trust fund kids who were destined to eventually fall in love, wed and have the perfect fairytale family together.

It truly was all on that track before the small cracks in the relationship weren’t talked through and patched but left neglected and unattended till there were too many to handle and she cracked.

After the break up you took the time to reconnect with everything you neglected throughout your romantic relationship with Rafe. Your friends, family, yourself. This time was the first time you’ve felt free since you started dating Rafe, the memories and time with him prior that were strictly as friends were the best years of your life, and so was the beginning of dating him. Till you realized while Rafe slowly destroyed himself with his malicious coping behaviours of drugs and violence, he was also destroying you.

Consoling him and endless ways to help him always worked with him, honestly anything that was just with you. But focusing all your attention into making sure he was okay, drained from your duties to make sure you were okay.

Suddenly everything just revolved around Rafe and you couldn’t take it anymore. I mean, you took a whole gap year for him from university that eventually turned into two, which eventually turned into not going anymore because you were scared he was going to get himself killed.

Even after everything you did for Rafe including putting your life on hold, gave him no mercy to show he was “okay” without you. The rates of parties at the Tanney Hill spiked up and so did the amount of girls in the Outer Banks whispering about their amazing night together with Rafe Cameron.

Worst of all you couldn’t say it didn’t bother you. Even with everything you still loved Rafe, a person and love that you had can’t just be erased. Then again, your journey to reconnect with everyone meant reconnecting with friends, which meant reconnecting with the party life.

The difference between you and Rafe was at least you had the decency to keep your nights out of sight, keeping it low and minimal and not throwing it out to the entire country that you were now single and ready to do anything with anyone now.

Let's fast forward to three hundred awkward blind dates later

If she's got blue eyes, I will surmise that you'll probably date her

You dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor

You search in every model's bed for something greater

Perfect, everything’s been “perfect”. Three weeks after the break up you’d say you’d been doing okay but some things just don’t feel right anymore. The high of being free was finally settling into the reality that you’ve lost your best friend and boyfriend.

Although Rafe was draining and depended on you like you were his nurse, he also was still your boyfriend. Or now ex-boyfriend. All the little things you began to miss and thoughts of “did i make the right decision?” Scathed your mind over and over. You didn’t think you could go anywhere without seeing something that reminded you of him, not even your own bedroom.

It wasn’t till a trip to the country club when you saw Rafe with an oddly familiar aura with him.

The girl he was with looked exactly like you. Her hair, her eyes, her smile. Irritation fills your body, you thought you’d been going crazy when the other night you told your friends the theory that Rafe was only going with other girls that resembled you but this really confirmed it because this girl was an exact clone of you.

Did he dream of my mouth while he kissed her? While he did anything with her? Because he knew well off in no matter how many girls beds he climbed into he’d never find anything greater.

Let's fast forward to three hundred takeout coffees later

(Flashing lights) I was hoping you'd be there

And say the one thing (oh, Lord) I've been wanting (oh, Lord)

But no

2 AM, you’ve been at this party for eight hours in honest hopes you’d bump into Rafe. You couldn’t take it anymore. You were weak and missed him. Every thought you had was of him and seeing him so easily run off with half Kildare’s population was killing you. That’s why you were here. You took the entire day to mentally and physically prepare yourself to see him at the party and get him back. It was pathetic but you couldn’t take it anymore.

But he never came. You sat in the corner of all these sweaty people dancing and snorting drugs for hours and Rafe never showed up. You thought about calling him, or just texting him but even that was too much.

On your way out of the party you hear a ping from your phone and open it to a message from your friend that sent you Rafe’s most recent post.

It was of her. That girl from the country club. The girl from the club sitting in your spot, your hidden, secret secluded beach spot that you and Rafe discovered in sixth grade near the water that tourists and locals didn’t even know about.

Your heart shattered. Tears spilled down your face as you crumbled down to take a seat on the houses front steps.

It was so naïve of you to even think that Rafe wouldn’t exploit that spot. You knew how petty he was. You should of seen in coming. Yet deep down you were hoping that it would never get to that point.

But here you were, on the front steps of a random house party sobbing into your hands all because you truly believe that Rafe Cameron was going to come to the party and say the words you’ve been yearning to hear from him again.

I Love You

How foolish.

pt. 2…?

[microwaveable-squish-cheese13]

🪐 comfort.

something else little !!

WARNINGS: none, js fluff

sometimes he feels like you are his very own, personal sun.

his entire world- his universe revolves around you and only you. when he wakes up beside you and sees the way the sun shines on your skin, kissing each and every freckle and scar that adorns your beautiful skin.

each sunrise and sunset is filled with you and only you.

your eyes are the only thing he could ever need. the feeling of your skin against his drives him crazy. and what makes it all so much better is the fact that you're all his.

no one can touch you but him.

the fact that his heart beats every day only for you is what drives him to do what he does everyday. the way you trace his scars and kiss his face like you'll die if you don't. the way you sob into him when night rolls around and your life is just too taxing...

he loves you. is that so hard to imagine?

he adores you.

his entire being is dedicated to you.

you own the breath in his lungs, the blood in his veins and the skin on his bones just the same he owns each and every inch of you. you are the only sound he hears. the way your voice calls his name when you can't open the goddamn jar of peanut butter just does something to him.

every time he thinks of you he wants to cry.

how did he deserve you? a monster such as himself paired with the being he sees as earth's very own goddess plucked straight from the paintings of old.

the way your body feels against his in the middle of the night... the way his hands cradle your body as sobs tear from your throat and out into the quiet night..

you are the only thing he sees. his eyes only land on you. when he thinks of perfection you are what comes to mind.

when you come home and lay in bed, watching the fan spin beside him as you babble on and on about your day. if it were anyone else he wouldn't give a single fuck.

but it's you.

you are the one he wants to spend the rest of eternity with. you could very well have cut his heart out and spit on it and he'd have thanked you.

you are his sun, his moon, his stars, his entire life and body and universe.

when he blinks he sees you.

you are the only feeling under his fingertips he would kill to have. his hands running over each curve and dip and imperfection you have to offer is his entire life. the way you look up at him and just smile would make any man crumble- and that's exactly what he wanted to do.

crumble into you and stay there for all of the rest of mother earth's life.

check the tags for who this would go with !!

[hyunfilms]

this time around (lee felix) | one shot.

—summary: life decides it's finally the right time.

—pairing: lee felix x f. reader

—genre: (18+) exes to lovers | fluff, smut

—word count: 3.9k

—content/warnings: blue haired felix 😮‍💨, cussing/mature language, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex - but not super descriptive!!, lots of kisses and intimate/sweet moments, use of pet names: baby/angel/love, oc’s friend also uses ‘baby’ in a platonic way, quickly edited so pls excuse any mistakes!!

—INSPIRED BY: LOVE ME AGAIN - V

It’s funny how life works.

Especially when you’re sitting at this wedding, sipping on another glass of rosé— staring at the one man who, at one point, meant the entire universe to you. 

Then, it’s also funny how life works; when life decides that this is your person, just not the right time.

“Girl, can you go and do something? He keeps looking at you. And don’t tell me he isn’t because I can see that blue head from miles away.” One of your bestfriends since college said. He nudges your arm, making you almost choke on the sip you just took.

“No, Reggie!” You almost whine, turning towards him. “It’s been so long, I don’t even know what I’d say to him.”

“Okay, but baby, he looks like he’s dying to talk to you. Poor Felix. Y/N always playing her goddamn games.”

“Quit it.” You nudge him back and he snorts.

“I’m kidding. But seriously, he looks like he wants to talk to you. Who cares if it’s been so long? I’m sure the conversation will flow perfectly. Give it a chance.” He takes a sip of his own cocktail. “Besides, if I remember correctly, you were head over heels for that man just as he was for you.” You sigh, setting your glass down— quickly reminiscing about the past.

You might have been young, and you may not have experienced everything life had to offer yet; but to say Felix was the love of your life would be an understatement.

He was everything to you.

Love, adoration, fun. 

Sweetness.

He was also sadness, anger, hurt. 

Pain.

Everything that entails love; being so, so in love.

And it’s just unfortunate that it wasn’t the right time because Felix was someone you pictured your life with. Everything about the relationship was right, and equally balanced. He showed you just how much he loved you and how much he adored you. You had more good times than bad with him. He taught you how to communicate better, to express your needs and wants, to enjoy life and live in the present moment.

He taught you so much that he really is part of the reason why you’re the person you are today.

After the three years of dating, Felix was graduating college and you were going into your senior year. Understandably, you felt like you needed to experience your last year by yourself, and you felt like Felix needed to figure out his plans moving forward. As much as you loved the way he factored you into every decision, you felt like it was wrong for him to do so— for him to feel like his life revolved solely around you. And of course, you loved him. This would’ve worked. But, it wouldn’t have felt right.

You needed to find yourself without Felix, and vice versa. 

Breaking up with Felix was probably the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do, but he understood. And because he loved you, he let you go. There was no bad blood, no hint of hate or anger; Felix had only left with more love and hope, praying that you’ll be okay.

Maybe one day, you’ll find your way back to each other.

It’s funny how life works.

“I’m not going to force it. I’ll let it happen if it happens.” You look at Reggie, taking another big sip of your rosé; eyes quickly glancing over to Felix from over the glass. He’s still conversing with a few mutual friends, eyes meeting yours from a distance. His eyes are soft, facial expression slightly unreadable. 

Pressed, crisp black button down with the sleeves rolled halfway up his arms. Silver watch adorning the left wrist, slacks sitting nicely on his frame.

You’re sure of the butterflies you feel. It’s crazy how Felix still has this effect on you. 

You clear your throat and revert your attention back to Reggie with a: “Can we go dance?”

“Now you’re talking.” Reggie laughs, grabbing your hand and leading you to the dance floor for a dance with other friends. The majority of the time you’re on the dance floor, you’ve temporarily pushed your thoughts and feelings away to enjoy being around friends you haven’t been able to hang out with or see in quite some time. You’re enjoying yourself, singing and dancing along to the music blasting in the venue. At one point, you don’t realize that Felix and his friends have joined in, creating one huge crowd in the middle of the dance floor that’s become the life of the party. 

“Hey, I’m gonna go to the bathroom and get some air. I’ll be back in a few.” You say in Reggie’s ear. He nods, throwing up the ‘okay’ sign to acknowledge that he understood you through the loud music.

“You need me to come babysit your ass?” He leans near your ear to quickly ask.

“I’ll be fine!” You laugh, rushing off to the bathroom to relieve yourself from all that rosé. You take a couple of moments to freshen up and pat away at your makeup, hoping to keep it together for the remainder of the night. You fluff your hair a bit before giving yourself one last look before walking out and heading towards the back end of the hotel.

It’s a beautiful night tonight— one where the stars are twinkling brightly above, dotted throughout the night sky and circling around the full moon. There’s a faint breeze that feels awfully good on your skin right now, the waves crashing against the surface just right below the hill where the hotel sits. 

“Hey.” A familiar, deep voice comes from behind you. You fiddle with your fingers a bit, bottom lip tucked underneath your teeth as you turn and come face to face with Felix— eyes completely fixed on the one man whom you’ve always loved; the one man who, at one point, meant the entire universe to you. “I’m sorry, I just came outside to make sure you were okay. But, I guess I should’ve figured it was since Reggie was still—” Felix shakes his head and lets out an embarrassed chuckle. “Nevermind. Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. Thank you for checking. I—” You lazily point at the sky. “I just needed some air. Was getting really hot in there.”

“Yeah it was.” He laughs a bit. “You sure you’re doing okay? Do you need me to get you water or anything?” Typical Felix, you think. He’s still the same. Everything about him has remained unchanged.

“I’m okay, Felix. Thank you.” You respond softly. “It’s nice to see you.” He digs his hands into his pockets, head tilting to the side.

“It’s nice to see you, too. It’s been so long.” He smiles. He’s the first to step forward and envelope you in a hug, taking in his scent as you hug him back. Oddly enough, everything feels the same. Felix’s hugs have always been the best, and part of you hates having to part once the moment is over. “You look amazing, Y/N.”

“You do, too.” You point at his hair. “Though, I have to say the blue hair was a surprise?” He laughs and nods.

“Uh yeah, was kinda a bet with some of my friends.”

“It looks good though, you pull it off well.” 

“Thank you.” He licks his lips before nodding towards the bench further down the path. “Do you wanna catch up?” He pauses. “I-I mean it’s fine if you wanna get back to the party, totally understand. I just thought we could kill two birds with one stone and–”

“I’d love to.” You cut him off with a sweet smile, letting Felix lead the way to the bench. 

And so here you are, sitting side by side with Felix— enjoying the night while the music continues to play in the background. You start by telling Felix what you’ve been up to all these years, how your parents have been, living life in the city. Felix says he’s been in and out of the city, traveling back and forth between Australia to hang out with family in between work. You share lots of laughs when you update each other about family and their whereabouts, reminiscing about the times when your families would have lots of fun together. The both of you also talk about how it’s been awhile since everyone’s been under the same roof, but it’s a nice occasion to be together. Then, somehow, the conversation shifts to love and dating. You awkwardly tell Felix that you haven’t really been in a serious relationship since graduation. You’ve dated around, but nothing felt right.

Nothing felt equally balanced, or like it was meant to be.

But, it’s okay. You reassure him you’ve been okay focusing on you and doing your own thing. In time, you’ll welcome whatever is meant to be in your life. And Felix tells you he’s glad to hear that— that he’s also dated around but things just didn’t feel right, either.

“Y/N.” He calls for you as he looks out, then shifts his attention back to you. “Are you happy?” He looks at you, really looks at you, and he doesn’t take his eyes off of you. Almost like he’s doing his best to read you, to find the answer deep within your orbs, your body language.

“I guess so, yeah.” You softly smile at him before looking at the view. “Are you?” He shrugs a bit.

“Yeah. Think so.” He licks his lips and lets out a small breath. “As long as you’re happy, then that’s all that matters to me.”

“Thanks, Lix.” There’s a comfortable silence that falls between you two after that conversation. But, something shifts in the air; shifts enough to the point where you feel Felix’s eyes rest back on you from your peripherals. The sudden tension could be felt from miles away, but you’re not sure how to act on it. The simplest thing you could do is—

“I’m sorry, is there something on my face?” You break the silence and ask, a bit confused as to why Felix just keeps looking at you, staring; fixed. He lets out a small laugh before shaking his head.

“No, there isn’t. I just—” He pauses. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N. Always been. I can’t help it.” He says, eyes softening again as he settles on your features. He gently brushes the hair away from your face, thumb trailing down to your cheek to caress the surface. You lean into his touch a little more, having to pull away when you realize the reality of this all.

It’s funny how life works.

“You know.. I think I’m gonna call it a night.” You shyly chuckle and look down at your lap, hands awkwardly rubbing away at the fabric of your dress as you let the excuse linger in the air for a second. “I didn’t realize how exhausted I was after all that dancing and singing.” Felix chuckles. He feels a little embarrassed, but he also dug himself into this one. He shouldn’t have reached out so quickly. He couldn’t help it.

“Do you need me to drive you anywhere?”

“No, I rented out a room for the night solely for this reason.” You stand with Felix following suit.

“Let me walk you to your room then?”

“Oh, you really don’t have to Lix. I’ll be okay.” He smiles hearing the nickname roll off your tongue.

“I want to.” You look at him with a small smile and nod.

“Okay. I just need to grab my things.” He follows behind, keeping a safe distance just to keep you comfortable– not knowing that you’d rather have him close than far away.

Inside, everyone is still keeping up the energy except for a few that have either left, or decided to sit down for the remainder of the night. Reggie is drinking water at your table, and he can’t help but throw a certain look your way when he sees you walking in with Felix following right behind you. You catch on though, and you simply shrug while Felix returns to his friends to let them know he’s heading out.

“Okay so.. what exactly is happening here? Miss ‘It’s been so long, I don’t even know what I’d say to him.’” You roll your eyes and grab your things.

“I’m heading up to my room. Felix is just walking me there.”

“Walking you all the way up to the second floor? Goodness me.” You laugh and shake your head. 

“You should get to yours soon, too.”

“Mhm, I want a progress report tomorrow morning.” He puckers his lips before eyeing you up and down. 

“Stop it.” You glare at him. “I love you, goodnight.” You simply tell him before turning on your heel to bid your other friends goodbye, along with the bride and groom.

“Get it girl, I love you too!” You hear him respond just as you continue your goodbye’s until you’re near the entrance, with Felix waiting right outside the doors in the hallway. 

“Hope you’re ready for a good long trip up to the second floor.” Felix laughs.

“Yeah, sounds pretty exhausting, honestly. It’s been a night.”

“It has, but I had lots of fun.”

“I did too.” He steps inside the elevator after you, leaning back against the railing. He eyes your figure, the way the dress hugs your curves nicely, heels strapped around your ankles. You’ve always been so beautiful; everything about you, inside and out. You can see the way Felix is focused on you through his reflection on the elevator doors in front of you, and it makes your heart do flips.

Because he does that thing he always does— when he tilts his head at a certain angle just to see you, read you, perfectly. Knowing you’ll meet his eyes at some point just for him to pull you in closer.

To plant a kiss on your lips,

Down to your jaw,

Collarbone—

“Y/N, is this not your floor?” Felix asks, breaking you out of your thoughts when you realize he’s holding the elevator doors open.

“Oh, right. Yeah, sorry. Just zoned out for a bit.” He lets out a tiny laugh as he watches you walk down the hallway, turning right at the end to get to the second door. You tap your hotel key against the reader, hand twisting the handle to unlock the door. Before you can open it fully, you turn back to Felix— seeing him quietly standing there with his hands dug into his pockets. “This is me. Thanks for walking me to my room, Lix.”

“Course. I guess I’ll let you be.” He smiles toothlessly at you. Your inner dialogue is conflicted right now, wondering if you should just let him be and let this end right where it is—

While the other half is yearning to keep him around, to have his company, to just be with him even after all these years.

“Have a good night, pretty girl.” He continues, hoping that he really doesn’t have to part with you right now. He’s not gonna force it though, and he’s not gonna say anything else— even though he feels like he has a lot more to say to you tonight. Maybe this is how it was meant to be after all, which Felix will have to learn to put to rest if it truly ends this way.

But, before he can turn on his heel to walk away, you follow up with:

“Actually, do you wanna just stay and hang out a bit more?”

“If it’s not a bother.”

“Never. Sorry, I should’ve asked earlier. I just didn’t want to make it awkward or whatever.”

“Could never be that way with you, Y/N.” You chuckle, stepping in and letting Felix follow you in. You set your clutchbag onto the side table at the corner of the room, undoing your heels and setting them aside. 

“God, that feels amazing.” Felix laughs as he sits on the edge of your bed, watching as you get comfortable. “I can’t wait to get comfortable. You have a room here, right?”

“Mhm.”

“Do you wanna change and just come back here? I feel bad that I’ll be the only one getting comfortable.” He laughs a bit and shakes his head.

“I’m good for now. I promise.” He watches as you undo your necklace. “Need help with your dress?” You look at him through the mirror as you set your necklace down onto the drawer and silently nod. “I got you.” He says, getting behind you to help you unzip your dress. It’s something small, but so intimate and sweet.

And with Felix, it feels perfectly right. Even if years have passed. You never feel out of place with him, and he only feels like home to you.

He slowly unzips your dress, eyes trailing down as his hand falls down to the small of your back. You feel his breath tickle the back of your neck, body only inches away from yours as he keeps his position there.

“Felix.” You softly call his name, and he can tell. He just knows. He looks at you through the mirror, hand slowly wrapping around your waist.

“Is it weird to say that I’ve really missed you?” He says lowly as his eyes trail down your neck this time, fixed on the weak spot that he remembers so, so well.

“No. I’ve missed you, too.”

“I mean it.” His fingers are fiddling with the strap of your dress. “When I saw you tonight, you were all I could think about. Not that anything’s changed, but—“ He lazily slips the strap down, letting it fall to the side as his finger traces a line up your arm; to the curve of your shoulder. “I just couldn’t believe that I was finally seeing you again.”

“Lix.” The way you breathily release his name from your lips tells him everything he needs to know. You’ve missed him too, you’ve really, really missed him, too. And of course he feels the same way you do— absolutely. If it wasn’t for shit falling into place at the wrong time, Felix was sure that he’d still be loving you the way he was before.

No question.

Nothing has changed. The love he’s had for you will always mean more to him than anything in this world.

Felix still feels like love, adoration, fun.

Sweetness.

And if you let him, he would also feel like sadness, anger, hurt.

Pain.

Because Felix is love, and everything that love entails. 

“Missed everything about you.” He says, planting a feathery kiss on your shoulders. “Missed the way you laugh.” Another kiss on your shoulder. “The way you smile.” Another near the base of your neck. “Just you.” He says near your ear, reading your expression. You bite onto your bottom lip and finally turn to face him, his hand coming back up to rest on your cheek. “Always been you, love.” His thumb is caressing the surface, giving you leverage to plant a kiss on the palm of his hand.

“Always been.” You mutter back, allowing Felix to fully take you—all of you— in this moment. 

Sooner or later, your dress is on the floor while you continue to keep your lips pressed against Felix’s in the heat of the moment; afraid to break the kiss and create distance. You don’t ever want Felix away from you again, no. You want him close— with you, for you, by you. 

Just you.

He takes his time with you, letting his hands roam across every inch of your body while he takes you in and settles in between your thighs; pressing his pink, plump lips across your body like he’s soothing you, making up for the years that you’ve lost. 

You’re tangled up in him, but you find that there’s no other place that you’d rather be than here; giving Felix the freedom to love you, love on you, however he chooses to tonight. You trust him to take care of you because he always has, and he always will.

It’s not long before your hands are gripping the sheets, repeatedly calling Felix’s name like a mantra. He praises you as he picks up the pace, pounding relentlessly to show his need for you. His lips graze the surface of your neck, collarbone, chest, whispering sweet nothings into your skin:

Missed everything about you.

So perfect for me, love.

So beautiful, so pretty.

Always been you.

All about you.

He continues, and continues— holding you close to his body while he tries to go slower, deeper; hitting all the right places that you like so much just to hear you, see you, writhe underneath him. 

You.

Let me be yours.

“Fuck, Lix. I’m close—“ Is the only thing that you’re able to say as you feel the coil within you threatening to unravel. And he must feel it too with the way that his hips begin to stutter, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he tries to hold on. He feels your walls completely tighten around him, pulsating as your face contorts in pleasure and a silent moan leaves your lips. 

“Baby, where do you want me— fuck— I’m—“ Felix barely lets out. You reassure him that he’s okay to let go inside of you, and not a second passes before he’s painting your walls. His forehead falls onto yours just as the both of you come back down from your highs, focusing on regulating your breathing after the intense pleasure that washed over you. “Are you okay, angel? You’re not hurt, are you?” He asks, close to a whisper. He kisses you lightly on the tip of your nose, before he seals one off on your lips. He holds it there for awhile before pulling back, realizing you still have yet to respond to him.

“I’m okay. Not hurt.” He nods.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” Felix takes his time cleaning you up and soothing you, helping you get washed up and ready for bed just before he leaves to do the same.

For a moment, you feel like everything is over. That maybe, that was the closure you needed to finally close off that chapter in your book. That maybe, that was it to Felix and you’d return to being [somewhat] strangers again. It makes you a little scared, a little anxious.

But, it all blows away when Felix comes back, dressed for bed just as he had said. He shuts off your lights and slips into the bed next to you, pulling the sheets up so that you’re comfortable.

“For a second, I didn’t think you were actually going to come back.” He lets out a small, breathy laugh as he wraps his arm around you and pulls you flush to his body.

“What, why not? I’m here to stay, love. Not going anywhere.”

“Even when tomorrow comes?”

“Even when tomorrow comes.” He kisses the back of your head. “Unless, you have other plans already?”

“No. Just you.” He chuckles.

“Sounds like a plan to me.” You snuggle closer to him, allowing his warmth to completely envelope your body. Before you know it, you’ve fallen into a deep sleep in Felix’s arms, and he does too. Even when the morning comes, you still find yourself wrapped around Felix and snuggled against his body, light kisses being pressed against your head when you wiggle in his arms.

It’s funny how life works.

Because this time around, Felix is here, lying beside you; making things feel right, connected. Balanced. You shift in your position to look at him because this time around, you’re staring at the one man who, up until now, still means the entire universe to you. 

Then, it’s also funny how life works; when life decides that this is your person, and this is finally the right time.

This time around. 

—perm taglist: @ppiri-bahng @jihanlovic @meloncremesoda @sweetlikecherry @asjkdk @hanji-cafe

[eggyrocks]

bruised part seven -> the healing power of shit talking

m.list

♪ now playing: first love/late spring by mitski ♪

“Are there any concerns you have going into Worlds?”

Iwaizumi bounces his knee, leaning back against the chair at his desk. He stares attentively at his computer screen, her face pixelated across it. It’s strange, he thinks, to see the face he’s known since he was a kid splayed out on screen, twisting in thought.

She’s always hated interviews, ever since her first one, and he can see it on her now. When she gnaws on the inside of her cheek. When she crosses her arms tightly over her chest, fingers tapping against her bicep. When her lip slightly twitches before she speaks. “The bracket’s stacked with a lot of heavy hitters,” she answers, and Iwaizumi can hear the forced diplomacy in her voice, even through the poor audio quality of his desktop’s speakers. “So I just have to make sure I go in with a clear head and play to my own strengths instead of fixating in on my opponent’s. That’s gotten me into trouble before.”

He chuckles at her answer. It’s so strained and uncharacteristic. Because if it was him that had asked her, she would roll her eyes and say, “Yeah, fucking of course I do. It’s Worlds. Don’t be stupid.” But because there is a camera on her face, she puts up a front of faux concentration and gives the first bullshit answer she can think of.

Iwaizumi taps a finger against the edge of his desk, resting his chin on the heel of his other palm. He studies her as she fields another question about her disadvantages against pressure fighters. Her left hand slips under her right elbow, cradling it, thumb drawing circles over the bone. He huffs.

It’s bothering her. Of course it’s bothering her.

His first frustrated thought is that she’s stupid for not telling him, because he told her to keep him updated on how the healing progressed and if she had any pain.

And then his second, worse thought is that it’s entirely his fault that she didn’t.

My world doesn’t revolve around you, y’know.

Iwaizumi sighs, reaching forward to knock his thumb into the space bar, pausing the video right as she started delving into her defense training. He knew it would work. Still, he was just sort of hoping it wouldn’t.

And now that it has, it feels shitty. Really fucking shitty.

Absentmindedly, he digs into his pocket and fishes out his phone, hoping that there might be a notification from her and hoping that there might not be. He’s more disappointed than relieved when there’s nothing.

He opens their conversation, thumbs hovering over the keyboard. Iwaizumi looks at her last words to him just a few days back: okay, whatever. He swallows, and types out a quick and plain: I’m sorry.

Iwaizumi stares down at the unsent message. He doesn’t know how to apologize without taking it back. He doesn’t know how to take it back without setting the distance.

There’s this urge in him to be selfish. To apologize and do whatever groveling is needed to get back to how they were before. But he knows that they can’t go on like that forever. That he would always be standing in her way. That he can’t always be the person she’d choose over anyone else. And if there was a time for his honesty, he knows for certain it’s passed.

Iwaizumi deletes it letter by letter. He knows she needs the distance.

He turns his attention back to the screen and presses play on the video. She picks up mid-sentence, giving them a canned line about how to effectively defend when she’s pushed up into a corner.

“And one last question for you and then I’ll let you get back to training. Is there a driving force behind your punch? What inspires you to fight?”

She was asked the same question back in their university days. He remembers her answer, word for word as it was back then. She grinned, brightly and genuinely, and looked right at the camera as she said, “I promised my friend I’d win.”

Now, she offers a half-hearted shrug and says with a light chuckle, “Who knows these days?”

fun facts!

yn typed out “np” with actual tears in her eyes

when she said “i know i can be clingy sometimes” she did mean it but there was a (big) part of her hoping he’d deny it and say he likes the attention she gives him

iwaizumi on the other hand was trying very hard not to say exactly that

he didn’t know what the right thing to say was so he just said generic word salad and then immediately regretted it

he’s not doing great either rn

yn has a hyperextended elbow and has had issues with dislocation in the past; she’s been able to avoid surgery but she’s been getting worried abt it acting up again

she wears compression sleeves while she trains to try and keep it at bay

bonus!

taglist: @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @publicbathroompanic @bedeater @rottingt1tz @rintarawr @deluluforcarlos55 @ahseyy @localgaytrainwreck @cherrypieyourface @baskin-robinhoods @polish-cereal @iheartamora @ferntv @eclecticeggknightpsychic @httpakkeiji @does-directions @pinkiscool @hikikaimar @needtoloveoutloud @iheartpinky @makkir0ll @cr4yolaas @k8nicole @cannibalsrider @bookworm-center @causenessus @frootloopscos @0moonii @ekeio @michivrse @phoenix-eclipses @rinthegoose69 @melancholy-nightmares @kottonkndyy @hermaeusmorax @milkwithspiceyicecubes (please complete form linked in masterlist to be added)

[highvern]

Secret Games

Pairing: Chwe Vernon x f!reader

Genre: angst, smut, 18+

Warnings: cheating, alcohol consumption, weed consumption, penetrative sex, toxic relationship

Length: 1.7k

Note: i cried writing this. the most toxic piece ive ever written but sometimes fic is the best place to work out issues lmao. originally inspired by girlfriend - avril lavigne but i took it and made it a lot worse. thank you @gyuswhore for being the best beta in the world

read more here

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

Vernon is convinced the entire universe is playing a practical joke on him. It has to be. Vernon would never cheat on his girlfriend, wouldn’t even entertain the idea, and if someone told him a month ago he’d be where he is now, he’d take them to the hospital for a CT scan. 

But a month ago he hadn’t met you, and now Vernon feels like the biggest asshole on the face of the earth.

He loves Olivia. She’s his soulmate, his favorite person, the girl he told his mom was the one since they started dating when he was a junior in college. Four years together and never once did he question if she was the person he wanted to be with.

Until you.

The only person to blame was himself. Getting caught up in the attention of the newest addition to the friend group, failing to ignore longing looks or sideways glances, reacting to your not so subtle touches. It didn’t matter if his girlfriend was sitting in his lap or she was nowhere to be seen, you seemed to zero in on him the moment you entered the room.

From the first night in the smoky club, you had him in the palm of your hand. Dancing on another man while your eyes never left his. Watching him over the mystery man's shoulder, while Olivia pressed her front to his. Pretended the body under his palms belonged to you, the lips pressed to his neck were yours. 

Something passed between you two that night and since then every waking moment of Vernon’s existence revolved around how shitty of a boyfriend he became when put to the test.

But he’d been better lately. Avoiding nights out where you might be lurking, urging his girlfriend to have as many girls’ nights as she wants, hoping she might be slipping the same way he was. But Olivia didn’t look at anyone the way she looked at him. She’d never betray him, never think twice about another man even when they flirt with her out in the open like her boyfriend isn’t sitting right next to her. 

That knowledge only makes the truth harder to swallow. 

The beginning of the end starts in a small hall closet at Soonyoung’s apartment. Everyone came over to celebrate his recent promotion. Several rounds of drinks later, the subject of celebration insisted in a game of hide and seek. There weren't many options to hide almost twenty bodies but alcohol has a way of soothing practical concerns.

Mingyu’s voice boomed through the apartment, jumping into action immediately and sending bodies scurrying for cover. 

Vernon pulled the closet door tight, praying Jun’s attempt to hide behind a lamp and Jeonghan half sticking out from under the couch would buy him enough time to avoid capture.

He could still hear the older man counting when the door opened. A sliver of light cuts across his eyes, casting the body pressing into the space in shadow. For a split second he thinks its his girlfriend, already laughing with childish glee at being so close.

But then Vernon realizes the person pushing in is you.

“Ready or not!”

Vernon tries to move back as far as he can into the wall but the bite of the shelves into his spine prevent more than a few inches of space between you. The door barely manages to click shut in time for footsteps to trample by, Mingyu’s laughter bleeding through the wood. 

In the darkness, Vernon finds a sudden awareness of your body. The roar of blood in his ears does little to drown out the sound of your breathing. Painfully measured breaths that stop every time someone shuffles by on the other side of the door. The heat radiating off your back across the inch of space between your bodies, a ghost of the real thing.

A loud bang makes you both jump, and with the limited space you end up in flat against Vernon’s chest, his arms around your waist to steady you. He knows you can feel his heart pounding. Not from being caught in such a silly game but from the proximity of your ass to his crotch; bodies firmly suctioned against one another. 

He tries not to react when you wiggle against him in an attempt to create more space. Vernon is desperate for you to ignore the hard curve of his pants, rising with each movement, each inhale of your perfume. 

“Vernon?” you call. “I said you're stepping on my foot.”

“Shit, sorry.” 

“Wait, let me just,” you whisper back.

At that moment, all of his defenses crumble. Chest to chest, your breath brushing against his ear, Vernon knows it’s futile to fight what he’s feeling. Your hands skating down his chest confirm it, rocketing his heart into a tailspin. 

He wants you.

And the way you look up at him, with lazy blinks and a drunk smile, tells Vernon you want him too.

A flush makes its way up his neck and he’s thankful for the darkness you're both absorbed in. The thought of all the others beyond the space you two occupy isn’t a blip in his mind. Vernon doesn’t want you to see what an obvious effect you have on him; even if the evidence is digging into the softness of your stomach.

A pass of your lips against his jaw scorches the flesh. Barely a second of contact; simple, chaste. But the imprint will stain his consciousness forever. Each lave of your tongue against the column of his throat forces him deeper into the pits of hell.

The sting of our teeth precedes an airy whine, “Vernon.”

His head drops back at the sound of his name on your tongue again. He wants to taste, to suck the words out of your mouth while his hands force it from your lips over and over again. 

Just as he’s about to, the door knob jiggles.

“Y/N, Vernon! We know you’re in there! We caught everyone else.”

Splitting apart, the warm light from the hall floods the tight space. Stumbling out, Vernon shoulders past you, past his friends, to where Olivia is waiting with a knowing gaze. He can’t look at her. Can’t look at his friends all laughing drunkenly, declaring you the winner 

Despite the look of absolute disappointment Olivia appraises him with, she doesn’t object when his hand circles her wrist and Vernon tugs her through the front door.

—

Vernon tries to bury what he felt in that closet in his girlfriend’s body. Tries to remember how much he loves her, wants to be with her.

Neither of them seem to be fully present. He can feel it in her body, the way she stiffens under his hands like they freeze her muscles solid. The rasps of Olivia’s half hearted moans churn his stomach, tying knots over and over again until he thinks he might be sick. 

They’ve been knocked off their axis by something, someone. The practiced ease of their bodies is nowhere to be found. She’s a step ahead and he’s a step behind but rather than stop and talk about it like they usually do, they both press forward as if it’s normal.

Who they’re pretending for, Vernon has no idea. Each other? Themselves? All the people who’ve watched their relationship bloom over the years? It doesn’t matter. He can feel years of love turning to dust and he can’t bare to watch.

Thoughts of you break the dam in his mind. How you felt under his hands, your lips against his skin, how you’d taste on his tongue. What sounds you’d make if no one interrupted what was just over the edge in the closet. 

The mirage of you, head thrown back in bliss as you take his cock rockets him to the end. Eyes cinched shut, imagination running rampant. It’s you underneath him, skin sticking to his, nails raking down his spine. It’s the smell of your shampoo still lingering in his nose as he buries his face in Olivia’s neck and loses himself in the motions. 

Vernon doesn’t realize he cums with your name on his lips until Olivia’s sobs reach his ears.

–

You shudder against the freezing wind, puffs of smoke washing away as soon as they exit your nostrils. A bile of shame and regret burns the back of your throat; something not even the sting of liquor is able to drive away. But that won’t stop you from drinking straight from the bottle you nabbed from Mingyu’s hand before running outside.

Maybe it's the weed or the booze but you’ve never felt so empty. A bitter hollowness, rotting you to the core. Tear tracks stain your cheeks, prickling in the frigid winter air. The cacophony of street noise falls on deaf ears as you replay the events filling you with misery.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this. Flirting with Vernon had been Olivia’s idea. A friend helping a friend. She wanted to test his loyalty. Begged you to help her assuage her doubts about their relationship. Vernon’s lack of reassurance, her belief that he’d leave her for someone else. All you were supposed to do was smile and make bedroom eyes and see if he’d cave. When that didn’t work, she told you to step it up; looks turned into touches, and flirty comments turned into late night texts where she told you exactly what to say to have him wrapped around his finger. 

And when that didn’t work, she shoved you into the closet with her boyfriend to see what’d take place in the dark, away from prying eyes.

Olivia got what she thought she wanted in the end. A nod from you was all the confirmation she needed as her boyfriend whisked her out the door. 

No one else seemed to pick up the tension trickling out of the closet. They were all so eager to believe that Vernon and Olivia were in love; the type of couple who you aspire to be like, so wrapped up in one another that the thought of them separated made no logical sense. Why would Vernon even consider someone else? The thought he’d do anything to jeopardize such a clandestine pairing wasn’t even a thought in the horizon.

The buzz of your phone knocks you from your stupor. A humorless huff of air sighs through your nose as you silence the fourth call in the last ten minutes. Barely a second for the same name to pop up again.

Incoming call… Vernon Chwe

-

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @ourdawnishotterthanourday

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[thatfanficstuff]

For the writing ask _

😀😝 xo

Oh, I love this gif. Thanks for sending it!

***

Angry

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

When you broke up with Elijah Mikaelson you'd expected many things from him. Disappointment, irritation or maybe even indifference. What you hadn't expected was his anger.

He didn't yell or argue, he simply narrowed his eyes and walked away. Every time he saw you after that he stared with a clenched jaw and sharp gaze. No words had been spoken between you since that night three weeks ago.

Now you were spending the evening with his siblings at Nik's request. After an hour or two, Elijah disappeared. Once you noticed, you rolled your eyes. Really. The man was a thousand years old and was acting like a toddler. Frankly you were tired of it.

"I'll be back," you told the hybrid.

He smirked and took a sip of his drink. "Take all the time in the world, love. None of us are going anywhere anytime soon."

You shook your head and left the room to head to Elijah's personal library. It was technically his study but there were far too many books for it to be anything other than a library.

You stepped into the room without knocking and shut the door behind you.

Elijah stood at one of the windows with a drink in his hand and his back turned toward you. "Why are you here?" he asked after a long beat of silence.

"Why are you so angry?"

His head snapped in your direction with a look of confusion on his face. "You can't be serious."

You arched a brow and shrugged.

His long strides ate up the space between you until he was standing right in front of you. "Perhaps you recall the ending of our relationship."

"Of course, but I don't see why you are upset about it. It's not as if you were invested in the relationship. I needed more. I told you that." What you didn't say is that you were head over heels in love with the man in front of you. That you had cried for weeks before finally ending the relationship.

Sure, he called you his girlfriend. He bought you trinkets and spent time with you when he could be bothered. And that was the problem. You were an afterthought. A woman that filled a role and the space by his side when he needed to keep up appearances. And it wasn't enough for you. Not anymore.

He pointed at you with the hand holding his glass. "Not invested? You think I wasn't invested?"

You just looked at him, uncertain what answer he was looking for.

He sighed and set his glass down on the table beside him. "This. This is why I am angry." He studied the floor for a moment before looking back up at you. "I am angry with myself for ever making you feel that way."

You sucked in a little breath, surprised at his words. He gave a sad smile and stepped forward, closing the distance between you. His hands cupped your face as he looked you over.

"You are the center of my universe. My entire being revolves around you and I am devastated for ever letting you believe that it doesn't." He licked his lips as his eyes darted down to yours before looking back up. "Please, please, come back to me and let me love you the way you deserve."

You saw nothing but sincerity in his eyes. "I love you so much, Elijah. But I can't do this if you don't love me the same. No more pushing me away. I won't survive the heartbreak a second time."

His lips pressed against yours in a hungry, desperate kiss. After a long moment, he pulled back only to lay his forehead against yours. "I swear to you, I will never give you reason to doubt me again."

A/N: so this turned out way longer than expected.

[cantheykillmacbeth]

Could Kiwi(The Bard) from Wandersong kill MacBeth? They are enby(any/all genders/pronouns) and due to being so insignificant destiny doesn’t care enough to write a future for them they are immune to fate.

Yes, The Bard aka Kiwi from Wandersong could kill Macbeth!

They are canonically nonbinary with any pronouns, meaning it applies for the Gender Clause (presumably; there is still the possibility that he is comfortable with being referred to with the term 'man' despite her identity as nonbinary, but I wasn't able to find any evidence that this is the case, so we will presume otherwise).

As for whether or not Kiwi counts as a Unique Exception, I wasn't able to find any information about Kiwi's relationship to fate and destiny online anywhere...

...So I bought the game and played through the entire thing in a single day so I could find out what you were talking about. ((Very good game btw, loved it, nearly made me cry, super funny, could do with about a dozen bug fixes though because I almost got softlocked 3/4 of the way through the game because apparently there's a cutscene trigger you can accidentally skip by RP walking resulting in multiple cutscenes attempting to play at once therefore not allowing you to progress. But yeah I still did really enjoy it. I love the gay monster boyfriends with my life))

Within Wandersong, there is a moment where a fortune teller attempts to look into Kiwi's future, and she finds that the universe/the goddess Eya made no plan for what Kiwi would do at all, as they were deemed insignificant to the story of the universe. The fortune teller explains that this is very unusual, as she is always able to divinate something out of any given person, and Kiwi is an anomaly in this regard. The entire plot of the game revolves around the fact that the universe is coming to an end, and Kiwi is attempting to stop it, though is told time and time again that it is impossible; the method to stop the end of the universe has rarely ever been attempted, and when it has, it has always failed. This universe is stated near the end to take place after "an infinity of infinities" of other universes, so managing to stop the universe's end is statistically completely impossible for any living creature to accomplish. Kiwi, however, is able to pull it off.

While one could probably argue that Kiwi being immune to fate and pulling off impossible feats wouldn't be able to counteract Macbeth's prophecy, I'm fully willing to say that it counts, and that Kiwi applies as a Unique Exception. This might be influenced by the fact that this is single-handedly the most research I have done into a character before, but I stand by it: they apply for the Gender Clause and as a Unique Exception.

Thank you very much for your submission!

[skeletoninthemelonland]

Sorry for sending another ask so soon, but-

Don't be shy, spit the frog (italian way to say spill the tea)

I WANNA KNOWWWNWNFNGNG

okay i'm spilling some of the frogs, the tea, I WILL DESEMBUCHAR (word for spilling the truth in portuguese)

springtrap and bell (ballora) do know each other but from a certain distance (he's with the phantoms, and she belongs in the funtime crew). there's never this 'strange feeling' that they've met before because, literally... they never met!

the reason for them to be arguing a lot is due to remnant usage, whose importance is constantly brought up in the universe of BTC. springtrap uses them for his own selfish purposes, while bell is searching for more to help a friend stay active, amongst other reasons that involve the safety and entertainment of backstage residents.

bell is one of the very few bots that has directly confronted springtrap for his actions and usual mean behavior (sometimes on the same level of aggressiveness, other times a single glare is enough). she refuses to stay silent and reality downs on him that the stuff he's saying and doing is harming people.

they are basically the closest thing to human adults in this digitalized city of ghost children, with bell sacrificing a lot more of her time protecting those around her than springtrap (especially before they met)

bell is a chaotic, stubborn altruistic type paired up with self-destructive tendencies as a defense mechanism, considering she is painfully aware of her purpose as a child killing, remnant harvester robot. springtrap contrasts that part of her personality by being aloof, cautious and egocentric, and by pushing others away, acting as if the world revolves around his success in escaping UCN and becoming one with the entity. these contrasting traits often generate conflict, especially later on, when more secrets are revealed.

i like to think they help each other learn from their mistakes with this dumb, tom and jerry beef they have going on, but saying there's any hint of romantic love between them in the beginning feels objectively wrong (considering the amount of times springtrap has said hurtful and otherwise mean things to her).

both are competitive by nature. expect them to be counting how many remnants they caught in a single night.

the more they get to know each other the more they display their true selves, ofc. springtrap has a quieter, observant, genuinely concerned side where he listens instead of talking over people in that loud, cheeky and arrogant tone. bell seems to be a lot more of an anxious and impatient person, thoughts racing at all times and sometimes causing her to shut everyone out. black cat and orange cat behavior, respectively.

they often debate about human nature and the limits of artificial intelligence, and how they, two self-aware small pieces of a larger puzzle stuck in a digital dimension, fit inside these two labels. both are detached from either concepts, meanings losing importance the further they investigate. still, that doesn't stop them from displaying unwavering support whenever one is lost and afraid (works for both).

hand on shoulder, "are you alright?" glances, lending his cape, handmade gifts and favors. springtrap doesn't know how to be comforting, but he makes an effort.

he's more comfortable being secretive and working behind the curtains. events like claw machines suddenly functioning again, entire stages being repaired in a single night, random input of remnants in the electrical system, abandoned areas appearing tidy and organized... (they still wonder who's behind it all...)

when bell first showed up at the workshop for a simple repairs session, he took off her illusion disks and disabled the part of her programming that submitted to William Afton's orders. with that, the entity lost influence over her actions, and as a consequential effect, her eyes glow a bright yellow color, instead of the usual pink/purple hue.

compliments (lots of them), getting excited over the other's achievements, eagerly asking about their favorite topics. bell is that "saw this meme and thought of you" type of person.

scolding. both scold each other all the time. scolding as in "WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING" and "oh wow that's the greatest idea you've ever had. i'm surprised we aren't dead because of your absolute GENIUS of a plan (/loudly sarcastic)"

[withleeknow]

like you used to.

pairing: chan x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, angst word count: 0.6k note: "things i wish you'd said" for the fellow wifeu hehhehhehe. first bang chan piece, people !!

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › masterlist › ko-fi

you remember when things were good.

now, you can only hope for a fraction of how they used to be. you don't even dare to ask for good again. you just want things to be better.

the way that everything is now - you don't know if it's right to label it bad. it's just... stagnant. lethargic. lifeless and on the verge of becoming unrevivable.

chan used to put you first, or at least, he would always make you feel like you were the center of his universe. when you'd first gotten together, the honeymoon phase seemed to last forever. you revolved around each other the way that everything in the solar system revolves around the sun. constant. a fact of life.

which is to say that the love was always endless. unwavering. persevering and true.

you could always feel the efforts he put in to prioritize your relationship. starting every morning with an i love you and ending the day the same way. staying on the phone for entire evenings whenever he had to be away. showering you with flowers and adorable small gifts any chance he got because he knew you didn't like extravagant things. running through the streets in the rain, giggling like a couple of fools utterly in love. spending hours talking and stargazing until the night faded away and you couldn't even see the stars anymore.

you were perfect together, perfect for each other.

what happened? what went wrong?

when did he start slipping away?

the i love you's don't sound the same anymore. when he gets into bed at night and presses a half-hearted kiss to your forehead, those three words feel like an obligation that he says just for the sake of upholding it.

no "just five, ten, fifteen more minutes!" when he wakes up in the morning and wraps his arms around you tightly for some extra cuddling time, peppering you with kisses on any exposed skin that he could find. instead, chan opts to desert the warmth of your side moments after his alarm rings. no lingering touches on your body before he leaves. just his fingertips ghosting on your back as if to quietly say "good morning, i'm going now".

it's a feeling that you can't quite describe even if someone asks you to - seeing the person you love the most fade away day by day, in front of your very eyes.

he's the last person you would expect this from.

the hardest thing to accept is that nothing happened. nothing went wrong. there's no one at fault, nothing to pin the blame on. love just went cold, and it's one of the saddest things that you and him will ever go through.

because your fire is still burning, not flickering even once while his love has been reduced to embers and you're helpless; you can't do anything to stop it from going out completely and turning frigid. because he's still the love of your life, even if you aren't the love of his anymore.

there are so many things that you wish you could tell him, so many things that you wish he would say to you.

tell me you want me and mean it.

kiss me like you did the first time under that shitty street light near the corner of my old apartment. it was dark and freezing, but we were so happy then, weren't we?

you don't have to love me forever like you once promised you would. just... love me. love me again.

because when he comes home and greets you with a smile - an empty one - that doesn't make his eyes light up like they used to, you know that the clock is ticking faster; time is cruel and time is running out.

you wish he would.

but you know he won't.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 02.01.2024]

[iamthekaijuking]

Gigabash character overview: Skorak

One kaiju archetype that could be used when Passion Republic Games was developing Gigabash was that of a gross and/or ominous evil overlord. So they took advantage of that and created Skorak!

The rest of the characters have reveal trailers so I’ll be using them instead of renders.

Skorak is a character that demands strategy and skill in order to play well. He has a gimmick revolving around his shell (which is actually the skull of another kaiju he’s killed but we’ll get to that). He can send out his shell out to track down opponents, throw it as a projectile, use it as a bomb, use it to pull off two pronged attacks, and just generally use it as a sort of “chess piece” on the battlefield. Not having his shell equipped lightens him and lets him move faster and makes some of his attacks last longer, but it comes at a cost. Without his shell he can’t block attacks or use a defensive move, so in order to play Skorak well you’ll have to remain aware of where your shell is, it’s position relative to you and your opponent, and when it’s advantageous to have it equipped or unequipped. When Skorak was revealed it also caught the attention of a little someone called @bogleech.

Design

Given that Ultraman was a huge source of inspiration for Gigabash, it was probably inevitable that we’d get a Gastropod monster since the ultra franchise has produced a handful. Namegon from Ultra Q in particular was a massive source of inspiration for Skorak’s design.

However, Skorak is also described as an evil overlord, so it’s possible that he’s got some Gatanothor in him as well. Gatanothor would later appear in the game with the Ultraman character pack as Camearra’s ultimate.

Skorak has quite a bit of concept art as well! And for awhile PRG was debating giving him up to 4 heads.

Side note: Skorak’s talons erupt from his pupils.

I personally find Skorak really cute and he reminds me of the “Live slug reaction” meme.

Lore

Skoraks home turf is Tarabak island (the name itself a reference to the snail kaiju Taraban from Ultraman Tiga), which is Gigabash’s stand in for Skull Island; an island overflowing with monsters and kaiju much to the dismay of the native humans. Much like Skull Island, Tarabak has an in universe book written in the early 1900’s called The Lost World of Tarabak detailing the adventures of a man named Petyr Faust in his crew. However, the content was so radical and unbelievable that it was labeled as a fictional story, and this wouldn’t be corrected until the 70’s during the first kaiju crisis.

The natives of Tarabak Island lived in fear for centuries as no place was safe from the rampaging monsters. Eventually though, one day a kaiju came along that curb stomped any other monster and quickly became the “king”. The natives worshipped this kaiju for protection, and under his watch they developed quite an advanced civilization. Entire cities of stone and gold were constructed, and a dam was built to control water flow for agriculture. They even had a legislative and court system! For nearly a century things went well and the people prospered, but this protection came at a cost, which I’ll cover two entries from now when we take a look at this “dragon king”. For some people this cost was too great a price to be tolerated, and so one day these displeased people performed a dark ritual where they spilled their own blood and the offerings meant for their king. Their prayers were answered in the form of a poisonous sludge. These rebels filled their offerings with this sludge and when they fed these offerings to their king he fell sick as Skorak devoured him from the inside before bursting out and taking his skull as a trophy.

That sludge was actually eggs, and this means that Skorak is a parasitoid kaiju slug that wears the remains of its first meal as protection, which is metal as hell. Also, I know Gigabash is a doofy kaiju party game, but the anatomist in me is very unhappy with the skull Skorak wears.

The resulting civil war would destroy the once great civilization of Tarabak and the population would splinter into three factions that constantly vie for control over the island, with Skorak’s followers becoming a cult known as the Eyes Of Skorak.

While the cult’s activities are mostly on the Island of Tarabak, the religion is known amongst occultist circles. In order to be initiated into the Eyes of Skorak you have to be injected with his venom. Those who survive, IF they survive, gain a telepathic connection to the kaiju and other cult members. Hence the name “Eyes of Skorak”.

Sadly Skorak and the rest of the game’s roster don’t have story modes as any more beyond the initial four were too resource taxing on the small indi studio of Passion Republic Games. Skorak does appear in all the other story modes sans Pipijuras’s as an opponent though. In Woolley’s in particular the native Yeti herd of Tarabak are seen celebrating his defeat, and given that Skorak lives for the hunt and consumption of other kaiju, it’s likely that he was routinely eating the poor Yetis.

In summary: Skorak is the coolest gastropod kaiju I know and any who disagree are unworthy of his blessings!

[drarryspecificrecs]

2024.02  ~ Top 6 longest fics posted on AO3

1. The Stag and the Dragon: The School of Witchcraft and Wizardry by Jesse_James [T, 180k]

►On the night of October 31st 1980, in an attempt to subvert prophecy, The Dark Lord Voldemort launches a pair of attacks to rid him of the one chosen to defeat him. But when one fails, the world is changed forever. But in this universe, things are different. The rules are not always the same. And things will not always be as we remember. And with a different choice made with a young orphaned Harry's future, the consequences of this one act will echo across fate. /// Meanwhile, in a different family, another boy struggles against what he is, and what he was born to be. All while his father seems to orchestrate more than just his life.

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4. The Boy from the Piano Shop by @soliblomst [M, 90k]  *typo

►After going blind in a reckless attempt to avenge Ginny's death, Harry battles with severe depression. One day, he stumbles upon a quaint piano restoration shop in the heart of London and meets the owner, a kindly old man, and his introverted young apprentice, whose voice sounds strangely familiar. As Harry and Draco slowly reconnect through private piano lessons, the small workshop becomes Harry's refuge, offering him a glimmer of hope in a world without eyes.

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—

※ Word count: 1k ~ 10k

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—

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