#i always see comments of people from other countries saying they wish they had a halloween like ours

[demadogs]

one thing america did get right is halloween. healthcare woulda been nice tho.

#i always see comments of people from other countries saying they wish they had a halloween like ours #and man id be so upset if that were me i fucking love halloween best holiday by far #but thats like one of the only good things about america lmao #halloween

[bambheez]

tonight is for the two of us (l.hs)

SUMMARY: two lonely people who find comfort in each other’s presence for one night. PAIRING: heeseung x reader GENRE: angst, smut WARNINGS: mentions of character death, grief, depression, insomnia, child and domestic abuse, alcoholism, profanity, light smut WORD COUNT: 5.8k A/N: the way this entire thing screams verbosity but that’s just my style so pls forgive me lol… obviously this is different from what I’ve posted so far in that there’s actual plot and it’s somewhat dark (so please read the long ass list of warnings before you proceed). you can also listen to the PLAYLIST for this story (I am in love with all of these songs)! as always, reblogs/comments/feedback are especially appreciated! :)

Your clammy hands were gripping the steering wheel to the point where your dashboard lights illuminated the whites of your knuckles. As you made your way up the windy roads to the lookout point, void of any streetlamps and relying on your high beams on blast, you were silently thankful for the lack of cars trailing behind you or driving toward you in the opposite direction.

Had you done your research beforehand instead of simply plugging the address into your phone, perhaps you wouldn’t have embarked on this hour-long journey to go stargazing with your colleagues. You suggested carpooling to no avail, having to face your absurd fear of driving not only at night but also on sketchy, unfamiliar roads. 

A slight crane of your neck to the right brought you a view of the city’s skyline in the distance, a hazy glow amidst a sea of black, and you wished you could teleport back to the comfort of the bright, bustling city. The mere thought of having to drive back down this same path later had you letting out a deep groan. 

A sudden interjection of your phone’s navigation app announcing that you were arriving at your destination in 100 feet caused you to whip your head back in focus, scanning the parking lot as you approached the top of the mountain. 

Your car was the only one in the vicinity, save for a camper van with none of its lights on, looking particularly worn-down and deserted. You parked in a random empty spot, unplugging your phone from its charging port before stepping out into the brisk air. Spotting a bench near the lookout point, you took long strides up across the parking lot and up the hill, plopping down to sit and fishing your phone out of your pocket to check your notifications.

You were surprised to find an empty home screen, expecting a “sorry, we’ll be a few minutes late” in your group chat seeing as it was over ten minutes past the time you were meant to arrive. You dialed the number of the coworker who invited you and you heard her voice come onto the line after three long rings.

“Hey! What’s up?” she was nearly screaming over sounds of at least a dozen other people talking.

“What’s your ETA?” you were muttering, already having a bad feeling of what she was about to say.

“H-huh? Oh, it’s supposed to rain tonight, so we canceled! Sorry, I thought we told y–” you were tearing the phone away from the side of your face and hanging up before she could finish her sentence. 

A miserable chuckle escaped your mouth as you took note of the thick clouds hanging over the sky and brought your feet up on the bench, hugging your knees and resting your back against the wood. You weren’t sure why you expected anything else. 

You thought perhaps moving across the country to a big city would put an end to the dread of a thousand tomorrows, none of them promising any semblance of change, but the truth was you never felt more alone than when you were standing in the midst of a busy crowd surrounded by towering skyscrapers and blinding lights—a single drop in the ocean.

There was no way to describe it other than a vice on your heart, squeezing with just enough pressure to be a constant, dull ache. A black hole that threatened to swallow every part of you until all that was left was a human shaped shell, too numb to feel the pain anymore.

There were nights you unwillingly let it control you, and all you could do in those long hours was find an enclosed place to shake until the tears subsided. The vast, open darkness in front of you made you wonder just how many people were out there feeling the same way you did. 

Some old acquaintances had promised to stay in touch, yet what you heard from them was comparable to radio silence, their smiles and efforts merely pixelated and small yellow faces that stopped coming whenever your world fell apart—which was often.

Trudging to get past each day made you realize just how much of your world had revolved around one person—one last connection with a life that used to be. You couldn’t tell her when your local tea shop came out with her favorite lychee drink, when you listened to a song that reminded you of her, how you saw someone on the subway reading a book she had recommended you, or how you overheard a couple arguing over the proper way to load a dishwasher, the very thing you had repeatedly bickered about as college roommates. 

And now that she was no longer in this life, you were constantly questioning your purpose, even occasionally wondering if you were meant to be alone. Was this what the universe had planned for you? You weren’t sure you believed in multiple soulmates, so what happened when yours left you?

If you miss me, just look at the stars. She would always sign the text with a ‘;)’ at the end and you would mock her with a scoff, replying with or I could just call you, dumbass. 

Without realizing, you were already bringing up your history of text messages with her, scrolling through the endless one-sided green texts, each decorated with a delivery error message. Your fingers were hovering over the keyboard while the pulsing blue line stared back at you.

“Where are you?” you were wailing out, wincing subsequently at the unexpected echo and crack in your voice. The thundering in the distance seemed to answer you, but you wished the stars were out so that you’d at least know she was watching over you. You couldn’t help but feel that the cloudy skies meant she couldn’t see you, or worse, look out for you. A droplet landed on your cheek and your eyelids fluttered shut at the feeling. You weren’t sure if they were your tears or hers.

It was the end of the week and you somehow found yourself making your way up the mountainous roads again, remembering coming home last time with extraordinary peace of mind despite the frazzled state you arrived in. You weren’t sure what it was, but it was pushing you to get out of the city once again. 

The air was noticeably cooler than it had been last week, and you were scanning your backseat for any signs of a sweater, sighing inwardly when you found none. It was warm when you left your office earlier in the evening and you mentally cursed at yourself for not checking the weather yet again. 

You contemplated staying in the car with the heat on, but a glimpse of your glowing fuel light had you rolling your eyes in disappointment for being so forgetful and inattentive on top of the countless other flaws you felt you carried. 

You were making your way toward the empty bench again, spotting the camper van in the same parking spot. You assumed it hadn’t moved since the last time you were here, most likely having been abandoned. There were considerably fewer clouds in the sky today and you beamed at the view of the small specks of white splattered against the darkness.

“Give me a sign that it’ll all be okay, please,” you spoke while eyeing the stars above you, some brighter than others. Your hair flew in the wind, draping across your face as goosebumps formed on your arms as you prepared to let the rest of your thoughts out. You didn’t remember closing your eyes, but the sound of footsteps approaching had you instinctively opening them and straightening your back and you suddenly felt a weight on your shoulders, gasping to find someone draping their flannel jacket over you.

“Sorry if I scared you,” he spoke against the wind. “You seemed cold.” A boy, now in a plain black shirt, was making his way around the other side of the bench to sit down next to you. He left considerable space between the two of you, which you were silently thankful for. 

You spun around to see where he had parked, not having noticed another car arrive and when you saw nothing but your own car and the camper van, you felt a chill run down your spine. Alarm bells should’ve been going off in your head, but you were seemingly more concerned with the fact that he had most likely seen you in your most vulnerable state, crying out into the open void like a lunatic, not only once, but twice now.

When he felt you staring, he turned his head only to briefly make eye contact with you before glancing back down at his lap. His skin was a pretty shade of olive, the tip of his nose illuminated by the hazy moonlight. You took in the rest of his appearance—worn sneakers with one of the laces untied, ripped jeans, and shaggy hair that covered his eyes, and you found yourself resisting the urge to run your fingers through his locks.

“Why do you keep coming here?” he was asking, picking his head up once more to look at you.

You weren’t so sure yourself. Maybe it was the fact that this was the only place where you didn’t have to pretend. You didn’t know if you wanted to talk to her, to yourself, or to the universe in general; you didn’t know if you wanted to scream or cry or sit in complete silence. All you knew was that after a particularly bad day at work, you were taking the exit off the highway without thinking, almost as if you had taken this same exit a hundred times before.

“I could ask you the same,” you chuckled. There was an awkward pause, and you were realizing that he wasn’t going to answer you.

“I’m here to u-uh, stargaze.” You were telling the truth, at least partially. 

“Stargazing’s not the best here, with the light pollution and all,” he replied. You hummed, unsure how to respond. He noticed your hesitation and was rubbing his palms against the black denim of his jeans before clearing his throat. 

“‘m Heeseung, by the way.” At first, Heeseung found himself slightly annoyed at the fact that you had disrupted his peace and not-so-secret hideout spot, observing you from his van while you mumbled to yourself on the bench. 

“I travel in my van, but ‘m running low on money.” He was rubbing the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed to admit the fact. “The parking here’s free, so…” he trailed off, regretting it immediately after stating the obvious. 

As he got a better look at your face up close, he saw that a small frown seemed semi-permanently etched on your face, which he could tell you were hopelessly attempting to correct as he studied you. A wave of guilt washed over him upon registration of his untimely intrusion, realizing that you would probably prefer to be alone right now due to the blatant evidence that you were pretending to look less dejected in front of him. 

You were briefly introducing yourself as someone new to the city, not knowing what else was interesting about you and accidentally slipping in the fact that you ‘didn’t really have any friends’, teeth chattering slightly even with his jacket resting over your frame. 

“Did you want to sit in my van instead?” Your frown was faltering when your lips parted in surprise at his request. He contemplated adding a lighthearted comment about not being a serial killer to reassure you, but you were already trailing behind him as he stood up. You could tell he was tall when his legs were stretched out next to yours while sat next on the bench, but he was even taller than you’d imagined when he was standing up, even with a slight hunch in his posture. 

Heeseung peered over his shoulder to catch you struggling to keep up with his longer strides, still clutching onto the collar of his jacket over your right shoulder and he let a soft smile adorn his face as he slowed his pace to match yours. He was rounding the front of his van to open the passenger side door for you but you were already cutting in front of him, hopping up on the door sill clumsily.

You let yourself into the passenger side, holding the jacket out to Heeseung who was still staring at you through the driver side window. He opened the door and pulled himself into the seat, reluctantly taking the jacket from you and tossing it on some unknown surface of the van behind him. 

He turned on the ceiling light of his van and began blasting the heat after noticing that you were sitting on the backs of your hands. His fingers were fiddling with the knobs on the CD player to turn on soft, lullaby-like piano music and you made a poor attempt at stifling a laugh. For some reason, you expected him to be into rock music and found the unexpected contrast endearing. 

Heeseung shot you a confused look at the sound and you simply shook your head and waved it off, a small smile still playing on your lips. You couldn’t put your finger on what it was, but you felt a strange sense of comfort in his presence.

For the first time that night, you were taking a closer look at his features. Underneath his bangs were eyes that carried both fervor and innocence and lips that were held in a constant, soft pout. He was chewing on his bottom lip, eyes darting around the space in front of him at the feeling of you staring at him so intently. He shook his head so that his bangs were falling over his eyes again in one swift movement before thinking of something to say to take your attention off his face.

“I dropped out of college when I was 18,” he was muttering, trying to gauge your reaction from his peripheral view before continuing. “And then I ran away from home to travel.” He was leaving out key details like the fact that he didn’t necessarily run away from home with the goal of traveling but instead began traveling because he simply had nowhere else to go. 

When he came home after his first semester with an official diagnosis from his university’s health center, his family refused to let him seek therapy or any other form of help. With a father who was never home and a mother who went as far as threatening to disown him if he didn’t return to school the following semester, Heeseung wasn’t left with much of a choice. 

You were surprised that he was even sharing this much with you. Your heart tightened at the thought of him being alone in the world at such a young age and his lack of a support system, seemingly more alone than you were. He was considerably better than you at concealing his loneliness and you hated that fact, not because you wanted to be better at it but because you knew just how much effort it took. 

Heeseung could barely remember what it was like to have his father around, the only seemingly harmonious moments spent with him before he started grade school fleeting and long forgotten. The bulk of his adolescence was spent resenting his father for the way he treated his mother, where his father would appear through the front door every few months or so in one of his drunken episodes, an empty bottle of liquor already in hand.

He almost always knew when it was happening, the rummaging through the cabinets and refrigerator for alcohol reverberating through the house and to his room. He couldn’t understand why his mother wouldn’t stop restocking the house with it or why she wouldn’t change the locks or take his father’s keys or even file for a divorce, and he couldn’t help but despise her weakness and inability to stop pitying her husband.

“Look who decided to finally show up for his mother,” the older man seethed, breath reeking from the drunken stench.

A particularly loud argument had Heeseung flying down the stairs, the sound of a glass bottle breaking causing his mother to let a scream out of her mouth. He took in his father’s appearance, unshaven and eyes bloodshot with a lazy smirk playing on his lips. A look off to the side at his mother with tears streaming down her cheeks was suddenly leading to punches being thrown and knuckles growing bloodied. A harsh shove from his father caused him to lose his balance and tumble onto the wooden floor.

“Maybe ask yourself why you’re defending a fucking cheater instead,” his voice boomed through the living room. A puzzled expression took over Heeseung’s face as he turned toward his mother who winced both at the sound of her husband slamming the door as he left and the way her son ran his tongue over his busted lip, eyes beginning to gloss over.

After finally grasping the fact that his mother was not the person she made herself out to be and what pushed his father over the edge over ten years ago, Heeseung, who had always stuck close to her growing up, attempting to make up for the lack of his father’s presence, began growing increasingly distant from her as he finished his final years of high school. The very thing he swore he wouldn’t touch in his life was the only thing he took with him and stashed in his van the night he left.

He was wrapping his hand around the nearly empty beer can in his cup holder from the thought of his childhood memories and shooting a pained expression your way at the paled look on your face, eyes pooling with concern and he tried to perceive it as anything but pity.

“I honestly don’t mind it much,” he was saying, but an unfamiliar look was flashing across his eyes and even though you barely knew him, you felt like you could see right through him.

He was redirecting his gaze out the windshield. He had used the North Star almost as a source of direction in his travels for the past few years, as cliche as it sounded. Tonight was the first night it was visible in the two weeks he had been parked here, deciding to camp out in the deserted park until it reappeared and he had saved enough money from his part-time job in the city. 

The North Star appeared noticeably brighter tonight, a beacon in the middle of the night shrouded in shadows and Heeseung was suddenly wondering whether it was a coincidence that you were here with him at this very moment, whether you were the very person who hung the North Star for him in the night sky, guiding him toward a purposeful destination, or whether you were the destination itself. He was shaking his head at the intrusive thought as you followed his line of sight.

The heat blowing throughout the van was fogging up the windows and blocking up your view of what he seemed to be focusing his gaze on. Heeseung watched as you turned in your seat, moving your body to face the passenger window with one leg folded up on the cushion. You were bringing your fingers up to touch the glass, slowly drawing a heart with your index finger and peering through the clear traces at the sky.

Heeseung, nowhere near intoxicated from his built up tolerance over the years, took one last sip of his drink, still not taking his eyes away from your side profile and subtle movements as you immersed yourself in your own world for the second time that night. He was turning to his own window to mirror your actions, outlining a much sloppier heart on the glass. By the time he finished and spun around to face you, you were already watching him with a beam, the apples of your cheeks rosy. 

You were suddenly bursting into laughter, your brain on autopilot as you leaned over the center console to fix his drawing. You were practically pushed up against him with your hand resting on his thigh as you drew over his sketch on the window, adding a dozen more hearts around the first and filling up the rest of the fogged glass with your doodles. Heeseung was noticeably stiffening under you, attempting to distract himself from his quickening heart rate by picking at the fraying of his jeans on the leg you weren’t perched on.

You leaned back to admire your silly artwork for a few seconds before glancing over at him and noticing Heeseung’s eyelashes fluttering delicately, still reeling from the sudden physical contact. Upon noticing the close proximity, you were removing your hand from his lap and bringing it back into your own, leaning into the seat again and you could feel the heat evident on your face, knowing it must’ve been even more apparent to him. He was no better at concealing his own expressions as his sheepish smile faltered, feeling abnormally disappointed in the sudden loss of contact.

Still in a daze, Heeseung was reaching behind him to grab a can of beer, holding it out in front of you while his eyes were trained on the single heart drawn on the passenger side window. He held back a grimace as he realized that he’d done so without thinking, hoping you hadn’t caught on to his dependency. You accepted his offer without hesitation, wiping the rim of the opening with the bottom of your shirt and popping open the tab, taking gulps at a much faster speed than you were normally used to.

Your head was still spinning with the thought and feeling of the burn of your fingertips against his thigh. You both drifted into a comfortable silence, the music no longer playing since the CD player in his rundown van didn’t have the ability to auto loop tracks or albums and the hammering of his heart against his chest seemed almost too loud for you not to notice. Heeseung thought about taking out the disk and replacing it but decided against it, not wanting to disrupt the stillness of the air around you. 

Your lips formed a small frown as you saw clouds beginning to shape. You thought it was the alcohol deceiving you, but you blinked a few times and the clouds were still there. 

“I hate the rain because it means I can’t see her. It makes me think that she’s crying,” you suddenly whispered, breaking the silence. You could feel his gaze fall to you as he fell out of his trance, but he didn’t ask who, just simply nodded. 

His reaction made you freeze in your spot, realizing you had most definitely overshared beyond an imaginary boundary. You almost wanted to apologize for it before you were saying the next thing that came to your mind. 

“Have you ever fallen in love?” you were abruptly blurting out.

He was quirking his brow in amusement. “Come on, I can barely fall asleep,” he laughed softly but not without a somewhat pained expression behind his eyes. You had assumed it was a joke, but the sincerity in the way he observed you told you it wasn’t. Your eyes widened before you were nodding softly and returning a weak smile, taken aback by his confession.

“Don’t worry about it,” he was brushing it off. “You?”

You were staring out the windshield again for a few moments, lost in your thoughts before responding, “A lot of unrequited love, if that counts.”

You began to explain how you had never been in a relationship, not because you didn’t want to, but because it was seemingly out of your control. You presumed that the time you spent on this earth loving romantically without any reciprocation had somehow altered your brain chemistry to truly believe that you were meant to be alone from the very beginning, and you were often wondering which would hurt more, to have had true love and lost it or to never have had it at all. Dwelling over the fact that you had already experienced some form of both made your situation seem all the more ridiculous.

It didn’t go unnoticed by him the way you were flighty in your thoughts, jumping to one without finishing the other. As a result of the accumulation of thoughts you created when you were alone, all the things you would talk to yourself about came spilling out. 

Your mind went on talking even when you were alone. And when you ran out of storage, the thoughts needed to come out somehow. Partly due to your insecurities you hoped that by talking more, you’d be accepted and loved by someone—it hadn’t proved itself to be a successful method in the past and you weren’t sure it ever would be.

“I give, and give, and give. That’s all I do,” you continued, your voice now uneven and trembling slightly. “I give until I have nothing left. I’m terrified of the love I have because I know it will ruin me—it already has, and I know I will continue to let it.”

You were heaving out a sigh of relief at the massive weight being lifted off your chest, still feeling a sort of emptiness but a strangely pleasant lightness associated with it. Even then, you were perplexed by your own eagerness to share your entire life story to someone you met just hours ago, partially blaming the alcohol for how unfiltered you became and you couldn’t tell what Heeseung was thinking from the stoic look on his face and his big doe eyes blinking back at you.

It most definitely wasn’t a feeling of pity, that he knew. It felt almost like a weakness in the heart—like his heart wasn’t working properly—a fleeting lightness that passed through him, being simultaneously lulled to sleep by a single gesture and set on fire by your every touch. 

Your eyes were glossed over, from your lengthy outpour or intoxicated state Heeseung wasn’t certain, but he held not a single ounce of doubt of the amount of love you held. Unsure of what came over him, he was resisting the urge to lean over and cup the sides of your face and tell you that even in his broken, wretched state, he was willing to accept anything you had to give and return everything and more.

“It’s really late. I can drive you home,” he was offering. He convinced you he was sobering up with a lazy smile plastered on his face, yet you couldn’t help raising your brows at the slight flush of his cheeks and numerous empty beer cans in the cup holder.

“I think I’d rather stay here,” you were speaking nonchalantly before turning to look at him with what Heeseung thought he saw were literal stars in your otherwise cloudy eyes. At the implication of your words, he could feel and hear his heart beating at a pace so fast it rang through his ears. As much of an open book as you were, he didn’t expect that from you and you even stunned yourself as the words left you, mouth now agape as you stared back at him. 

You wanted to blame your lack of sobriety yet again but you knew that the flood of emotions had put your mind in a remarkable state of clarity. His calmness—how he listened and watched attentively without any questions, just simply looking at you with a fondness in his eyes—fastened you with a sense of immense trust in him.

Thankfully, he was quickly nodding and turning around to turn on the lights that lit up the rest of his van. In contrast to his somewhat rugged appearance, his space was neat and cozy and it amazed you how few belongings he had; everything fit in his van and there was almost no clutter. The only hint of personality and life you could find was the guitar hanging over the bed, and you were smiling to yourself knowing he at least had music to accompany him. 

Heeseung had suggested cooking some ramen for you, but you simply shook your head with a sleepy smile and told him you weren’t hungry. He didn’t say anything as he clambered on top of his sheets and patted the spot next to him. There wasn’t much space in the van for anything other than a bed and a small stovetop and you were skeptical there would be enough room for you to both lay comfortably. 

You fit yourself on the mattress between him and the back door while he crawled under the covers, pushing his pillow toward you behind your back and grabbing an extra one from beneath the bed for himself. You were still sat leaning against the side of the van as you contemplated your next move, wondering whether you should prioritize comfort or decency and you squirmed at the thought of your dirty jeans on someone else’s sheets.

A brief glance at Heeseung, who was lying on his back with his eyes closed and hands resting over his stomach, had you quickly tucking yourself under the blankets and unzipping your jeans, pulling them down and kicking them over your ankles. You were shuffling downward and placing the now folded jeans beside your pillow, facing away from Heeseung as you pulled the covers up to your chest.

You couldn’t tell but Heeseung had visibly stiffened, eyebrows now slightly furrowed in concentration as he attempted to fall asleep, willing himself to think about anything other than you and your presence inches away from him. He was staring at the ceiling, breath uneven at how you were so similar in the way you craved connection yet different in the sources of your troubles and the way you coped—one capable of giving anything and one who didn’t know how to give at all. 

You felt the bed dip and you could hear Heeseung shuffling around behind you, his heavy breathing against your neck telling you he was now facing you, and still lying on your side when you felt his fingers graze across your hip bone. 

The heat radiating off his body behind you was seeping into your own skin, slowly building into a burn before you were flipping yourself over to face him and immediately thrown off by just how close he was. A slight lean forward from either of you would close the gap, and your eyes were unconsciously flickering down to his lips at the thought.

You were pulling yourself flush against him, savoring the feeling of your bodies pressed so closely together, resting your head in the crook of his neck and he let out a sharp gasp from above you. You could feel his heart beating underneath your palms as you moved your hands across the expanse of his chest. A slight crane of your neck and you were tentatively placing your lips against his jaw, a shaky breath of Heeseung’s fanning your face from the action.

As your kisses moved from his jaw down to his neck, his mouth was parting softly, lifting his head into the pillow to provide you with more access. One particularly harsh suck against his collarbone had him surging forward for more, latching onto the hem of your shirt and fingers hesitantly grazing the waistband of your underwear. 

Heeseung was then leaning forward onto his elbows, the hand that was previously slotted between your bodies wrapping around your shoulder to pull you up and level to him, bringing you into a gentle kiss that caused the hairs on your arms to raise.

It overwhelmed you how thrilling yet calming it felt to be kissing him. You were completely drinking him in, the touch of his skin against yours heating up the pits of your stomach and causing shivers to wrack through you and simultaneously taking your mind off of everything else.

He was gentle with his touch, but his lips were rough and chapped and he was kissing you with so much longing and desperation that for a second, you contemplated whether this was his first time kissing someone, craving any and every bit of physical contact. You quickly dismissed the thought as he took advantage of your inattentiveness with a swipe of his tongue against your bottom lip, your lips parting slightly, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth skillfully.

Your stomach churned and you were writhing under his touch from the way your tongues intertwined, a pit of heat rising in your lower stomach. Heeseung was letting out a choked whimper at the feeling of your hands reaching underneath his shirt, smoothing over the skin of his stomach. 

“You okay?” you were whispering as you pulled back, hands coming up to cup his cheeks. He held your gaze for a few seconds, both delicacy and sharpness etched in his features, before his lashes fluttered and he was shaking his head, burying it in your neck. Your hands were sliding along his scalp to soothingly stroke his hair, heart aching at the vulnerability and rawness with which he looked at you. 

It wasn’t clear whether the cause of his feverish state was from the simple presence of you in his arms, but something told you that you should’ve seen it coming when the way he looked at you gradually began changing as the hours progressed.

You were pulling back and placing one last, soft kiss against his lips, lingering for a few moments too long before wrapping your arms around his torso in a tight embrace and rubbing his back gingerly. 

Heeseung was redirecting his attention out at the sky through the back window, foolishly looking for you and him in the stars. Some stars gradually dim and lose their luster, and on a rainy night, you might never see them again. 

You weren’t thinking about what would happen when the stars faded and the sun rose, or when you would see him again—you didn’t need to see him or be physically near him to feel him. Your subconscious was finding comfort simply from the feeling of his chest pressed against yours, your thumb rubbing circles over his shirt while you listened to Heeseung's soft breathing and the sound of the rain beginning to fall against the windows.

A/N: the bolded quote is based on something I saw on twitter: “I’m scared of the love I have for you. Because I know it will ruin me. And I also know that I will let it. I love hard.” but I couldn’t find the source, so credits to the original owner.

#enhypen #heeseung #lee heeseung #heeseung angst #heeseung smut #enhypen angst #enhypen smut #lee heeseung smut #lee heeseung angst #heeseung x reader #heeseung imagine #heeseung scenario #enhypen imagine #enhypen scenario #enhypen heeseung #heeseung hard hours #lee heeseung imagine

[atinystraynstay]

Give You The Best Years - Han Jisung

Synopsis: If there was one thing that Han couldn't stand, it was watching you throw away your potential. He believed you deserved everything and so much more, and he wanted to be the one that gives it to you. After being silent for so long, he wasn't going to waste another moment.

Pairing: non-idol! Han Jisung x reader

Genre: Angst - Han watching you be in love with someone else, childhood friends to lovers, proposal

Word Count: 2.9k

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It was a typical Saturday night for your friend group. You were doing some barhopping in the neighborhood, meeting up after work to forget about all about the stresses. The only difference tonight was that you decided to invite your significant other.

You've introduced him to your friends who all seem to love him. You didn't see it as a big deal, but to Han, it was making his skin itch. Why were you so insistent on bringing him around? It was supposed to be friends hanging out, not friends and their partners.

At the moment, Han was watching the two of you. Your partner had their arm around your waist, his hand slipped into the back pocket of your denim jeans. You had your head on his shoulder as you two were both up at the bar, getting another round of drinks.

"Uh oh, Han's getting jealousy," Lee Know commented.

Han snapped his head over towards his best friend, eyes glaring. "I am not," he pouted.

"Han, we've been friends for like what? 10 years now? I think we all know when you're lying," Chan said, a hand resting on his shoulder. "I just don't get what y/n sees in him!"

It was no secret to his friend group that Han had feelings for you. Well, it wasn't a secret to everyone besides you. You seem to have always viewed Han as your best friend, your ride or die. The two of you have been inseparable since graduating high school together. Regardless if you lived close or far away, you two kept each other in the loop on everything.

When you got the opportunity to move to Korea for a job, Han was over the moon. He never considered long distance before, which is why he never asked you out before. But if you were going to be living in the same country at least, it was a sign that now would be a chance.

Little did Han know you were bringing along a boy with you. To say he was hurt that you never talked about this mystery guy before would be an understatement. He thought you guys were best friends. Why keep him such a secret? It was later revealed that you were actually moving to Korea to be with this guy who got a transfer to a position in Seoul. You found a job so you could continue seeing him.

Of course, Han was also happy to have you closer to him. He just wished it was under different circumstances.

Why couldn't you have chosen to move to Korea to be closer to the people that love you? To be with him? Not some random guy you met who knows where.

A sharp elbow to the side brought Han back to reactive. He opened his mouth to shout but Felix quickly nodded his head over towards you and your partner walking back to the group. He ran a hand through his hair before putting on his signature smile. Play it cool.

It broke his heart to see how you smiled at your boyfriend. That should be me. Your boyfriend set our drinks down as you slid your purse off from around your body.

"Baby, can you watch my stuff? I want to run to the bathroom." I could watch her belongings a lot better than him. "Of course I can. Hurry back," he chuckled.

You also laughed before leaning down, pressing yet another lingering kiss against his cheek. Oh god, I think I'm going to be sick.

Han and your boyfriend's eyes watched as you turned and walked away towards the back of the bar. Han, on the other hand, quickly looked away before your boyfriend noticed. While he wanted to prove that he was the better option for you, he didn't want to ruin the evening.

Once you were out of sight, your boyfriend turned towards the group. He wore a wide grin on his lips. It made Han apprehensive. Something was going on, and Han didn't like it. "Can I get your opinion on something? Y'all know y/n the best. I just wanna know if this is a good idea or not," he began.

Even though there was music pumping in the club, the world fell silent. All eyes were on your boyfriend as he sat up, reaching for something in his pocket. Changbin and Chris glanced at Han every now and then, trying to gauge his reaction. Yet. nobody could have prepared them for what was going to happen.

Your boyfriend pulled out a black velvet box. Slowly opening it, he revealed a gorgeous diamond ring with a silver band. Han's heart dropped to the pit of his stomach and shattered into a million pieces.

"Do you think y/n will like it? I can go exchange it for a different ring," your boyfriend explained.

Han's world was coming to a halt. He didn't know how to feel or what to even think. It was as if you were slipping through his fingers. He felt lightheaded as a cold shiver ran down his spine. "I think she's going to love it," Chris admitted.

Han wanted to snap his head over at his friend. Has Chris lost his mind? All the guys began to nod in agreement. They all seemed to be at a loss for words as well. Your boyfriend was nervously biting his lip, both because of the subtle announcement but also wanting to get approval from your closest friends. Especially Han.

"Han?" Your boyfriend called out. "Mate, is this good for her? I don't want to mess this up."

Forcing a smile, he nodded his head. "Oh yeah, I um think she's going to love it." And you will. It looked exactly like the wedding rings you used to cut out from magazines for your vision boards. It just pained him that it wasn't coming from him, it was going to be an engagement from something else.

Now satisfied, your boyfriend or I guess soon-to-be-fiancé slipped the engagement ring back into his jeans pocket. He didn't want to risk even you getting a hint of what was to come. "Thanks guys! I think I'm going to ask her next week. I'm still working out the details, but figured you should be the first to know."

This was it. This was how Han was going to die. He was going to fall victim to death by a broken heart.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It's been a week since your boyfriend dropped the bombshell. Every day, Han waited in anxiety for when you'd FaceTime him to share the good news. Or at least, it was good news for you.

He was currently laying in his bedroom. The boys have been trying desperately to get Han to leave his bedroom. Yet, he refused. He didn't want to be active in a. world where the chance of you two getting together was non-existent. He wasted so much time trying to wait for the perfect moment to confess his feelings to you that he ran out of time. He was beating himself up about it.

His gaze was fixated on the ceiling as he held a pillow close to his chest. The reality of the circumstances was setting into his soul. He felt like he was being suffocated. His mind kept replaying all the potential moments where he could have spoken up.

He lifted the pillow up to his face. He let out a loud scream into the material before tossing the pillow towards the foot of his bed.

Ding dong

Normally, Han didn't pay much to the doorbell downstairs. There was always a constant flow of people coming in and out of the house, especially since 8 boys called it home. It normally was just food delivery or a mutual friend stopping up to say hi. The main person who always came to visit him was you. But he anticipated those vitiations coming to a halt soon.

He heard footsteps going down the staircase. The familiar screech of the old hinges sounded, even heard from Han's bedroom.

"Oh hey y/n," Minho said. Almost louder than usual so Han overheard. And he surely heard because he basically shot out of bed at the announcement of your arrival.

"Minho, is he here?" You asked.

Before Minho could answer, Han was halfway through his bedroom door. He tried his best to be calm and collected, but he couldn't. He always was excited about your visits, and he never liked to keep you waiting. Even though he was sure this might be one of the lasts, he didn't want to let him sulking stand in the way of spending one-on-one time with him.

"Speak of the devil," Minho teased as he heard movement from behind him. He stepped out of the way so Han could get to you. He was about to make his way back up the staircase, but didn't miss the opportunity to squeeze Han's shoulder comfortingly. Minho would be there the moment Han needed him, whether this was a good interaction or not. For now, he needed to notify the boys that Han had actually emerged from his room.

Being alone, Han swallowed the lump in his throat before turning towards you. He took a moment to take you in. You wear wearing baggy ripped jeans. You had on a purple sweater with the sleeves that nearly covered your entire hand. God, he was going to miss seeing you.

"Did you know?"

His eyes widened slightly by the tone of your voice. It didn't carry its usual cheerful tone. You were staring at him without a smile on his face. Between you and Felix, there was always competition who carried the title of sunshine. To Han, you won every time. Yet, this time, he didn't see happiness. He almost saw worry, concern, a bit of frustration.

He stepped aside to let you in. You walked into the house, making a direct path towards the kitchen. Han closed the door, seeing movement also from the top of the staircase. All the boys were gathered, watching in anticipation of what was going to happen. Han tried gesturing for them to get away, but he couldn't focus on his best friends eavesdropping. He needed to stay on your trail.

When he arrived in the kitchen, he saw you pacing back and forth. Hell, you looked more in distress than he has been the past couple of days. "He bought a ring, Jisung," you whispered. Your hands rested on the kitchen island, staring across at him. You bit your lip. Seeing you so loss for words was unlike you. Honestly, Han was worried.

"Oh yeah," Han murmured. One hand slid into the pocket of his sweatpants, the other rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "He showed the guys and I last week," he confessed. "So you did know?" "Yeah," he said lowly. "I'm taking it he asked you."

You were quick to shake your head. "Um no, not quite," you explained. "I found it in our dresser drawer. I was trying to find a pair of socks when I found it tucked away in the corner. That was when I found a letter from one of his ex girlfriends folded up."

Han stood up at attention, confused by your revealing news. What? Why would he keep a letter from his ex girlfriend when he seemed so into you? Han found it a bit odd, and from your body language and your re-telling, it seemed like you did.

"I know I shouldn't have read it, but I did. Han, he seems to still really love her. The letter is new too. It was dated two weeks ago, almost as if she confessed before the new year," you groaned. "I feel like he's waiting to see if I say yes or no before deciding if he wants to go back to her," you said sadly.

Han frowned. He never liked when you viewed yourself poorly. Let alone when someone makes you believe you are less than your worth. To him, you are the whole universe. His anger was also slightly boiling for you, not at you. It wasn't your fault your boyfriend wasn't more careful. He also felt irritated because your boyfriend acted like he worshipped the ground you walked on. How could even consider someone better than you?

"What do you wanna do?" "That's the thing I don't know," you confessed. Han furrowed an eyebrow. He believed there was an obvious choice here. Leave.

"What if this is my only chance at love, you know? I know he does care about me." Are we sure about that? "And I always envisioned I'd be married by now. Hell, we know so many people who are engaged, married, and have kids. What if this is supposed to be my person?"

Slowly, Han began approaching you. This was his moment, the one he's been waiting for. It wasn't under the most romantic circumstances like he desired, but it was now or never.

"Han, I'm tired of the short-lived romances. I'm tired of giving my all to someone where the spark between us fizzles out because I choose my mind over my heart." "Why do you have to choose one or the other. Y/n, sweet girl, you should be with someone who satisfies your mentally, emotionally, and even physically." "But what if that person doesn't exist?" You whined.

Enough was enough. Han presented himself to you. Very gently, he cupped your cheeks with his large hands. His thumbs caressed your cheekbones affectionately as he gazed down at you. "I'd like to think I could do a pretty good job," he chuckled lightly. He tried his best to control his body trembling from his nerves. But if he didn't confess now, he never would.

If he had the chance to try to win you over, he had to take it. "What are you saying?" You whispered. "You're my best friend. Of course, you satisfy me in all those ways, but we're friends, aren't we?"

He smiled reassuringly down at you. God, you were so precious. "Of course we are, best friends. The very best of friends," he reaffirmed. "But, it seems like I have fallen in love with my best friend."

The truth was out. No turning back.

Your eyes widened. Did you hear him correctly? "Han," you started by he immediately shushed you. "No, y/n. I'm tired of not admitting it. I've been in love with you for quite a while. I mean, they always talk about some of the greatest love stories that come to be from best friends dating, realizing they care for one another on a deeper level. You're my person, honey." "You're my person too," you confessed. "But you can't just say this to me and not mean it," you frowned.

Han moved his face in toward yours. His forehead rested against yours as he gazed down at you. His lips ghosting over yours. You tilted your head into his warm touch, looking up at him with curiosity and endearment. God, how could he wait this long? "I was the damn fool that waited until it was too late," he whispered. His hot breath hit your lips, causing shivers to run down your spine. He couldn't help but chuckle lightly at your response. One hand slid off of your face to hold your hips, keeping you close to him. "By no means am I proposing one of those friendship marriage pacts. I want us to experience the highs and lows together as we navigate life. I want things to stay the same, but I also want to be able to kiss you when I want, and take you out on dates. I want the title of being yours exclusively."

Feeling just as bold, you tilted your head slightly up towards his. Your lips grazed against his which caused him to shutter this time. You couldn't help but giggle seeing the reaction you pulled out of him. "What are you waiting for then?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You and Han ran out of the courthouse, hand in hand. Your giggles filled the professional building, but the two of you didn't care. He had rented a tuxedo last minute whereas you were able to find a white outfit at a thrift store around the corner.

It was a no-brainer to marry your best friend. You didn't need the diamond ring, nor the big ceremony with the larger-than-life reception. All you needed was Han Jisung, and he needed you.

As you exited the courthouse, you stepped out as united duo. Mr. & Mrs. Jisung.

"Wait a minute," Han announced. You stood near the top of the stairs leading to the county building. You turned towards him as he looked at you with a serious expression. "What are we doing? This is silly."

Your jaw dropped at his response. He couldn't be serious. There is no way you two would have rushed around town to get everything together last minute for him to now second-guess himself. Not when the marriage license was already signed, the ink drying.

As you were about to question him, he tugged on your hand and pulled you in gently. You gasped in surprise, crashing softly into his chest. His arm wrapped around you, stabilizing you. His other hand found itself on your cheek. A habit of his now.

"We don't need to rush. we have all the time in the world," he breathed out. "Mrs. Han Jisung, you are all mine now. Can't get rid of me."

You rolled his eyes at his antics but couldn't help but giggle. He was right. You two had the best years to come, as husband and wife.

#han jisung #stray kids #han jisung x reader #han jisung fluff #han jisung stray kids #han jisung skz #han jisung x you #han jisung x y/n #han x reader #han x you #han x y/n #jisung x reader #jisung imagines #jisung fluff #stray kids imagines #skz #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids imagine #skz scenarios #skz fluff #atinystraynstay #kpop #fanfic #skz x you #skz x y/n #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids x y/n

[kirain]

Saw your comment on a post about Sound of Freedom and I came here to say.....shame on you. Shame. On. You. Since when is child trafficking a political issue? Since when is calling pedophilia bad a political issue? If you have a problem with this movie then maybe YOU'RE the problem. No better than the big Disney fat cats who tried to suppress this movie and keep it shelved. Or theaters messing with the ac and saying seats are sold out when they're empty. Shame on you! God's children are not for sale!

I wish people would do a little more research on this topic. If Hollywood and the "powers that be" didn't want this movie being seen, it wouldn't have been released in over 3000 theatres countrywide. It's being shown in major and minor locations all across America and Canada, and the vast majority of those locations aren't having any problems.

Case and point, my own mother and her friend went to see it last week and everything was fine. No issues whatsoever and the seats were packed. The movie isn't being "suppressed". This is all a marketing gimmick from the production company Angel Studios, a Christian streaming service. The movie is jam-packed with lies and only serves to glorify Tim Ballard, the man the movie is based on, and Christianity as a whole. I truly wish this wasn't political, but it is. They made it political.

Tim Ballard has provably exaggerated or fabricated many, if not most of his "rescues", and his organisation, Operation Underground Railroad, has been widely criticised by professional anti-sex trafficking organizations (including other Christian-based ones) for years. He has accumulated millions of dollars for his so-called "non-profit" organisation, and he runs several for profit organisations on the side. Most of this money is presumably pocketed by Ballard and his cohorts, as millions is unaccounted for and only a sliver goes to OUR. It's not about "saving children", it's about money and spreading Ballard's religious ideology.

This is compounded by the fact that Ballard, before he left the CIA, was almost always the last officer to arrive on any scene where child sex trafficking was involved, yet he somehow has hundreds of stories where he's singlehandedly rescued children. In fact, the "true story" the film is based on, where Ballard apparently saved a five year old boy—who, by Ballard's own account, ran up to him, hugged him, and begged to be taken away—didn't even happen. According to court receipts from the arrest and trial of Earl Venton Buchanan (the pedophile in possession of the little boy), Ballard arrived at the scene long after the boy was rescued and taken into custody, and he was barely involved. The documents can easily be found online under the San Diego incident reports.

Ballard was also caught lying about saving one particular girl named Liliana, the literal poster child for OUR. As it turns out, Liliana rescued herself by escaping her captors when she was seventeen and being trafficked in New York. Even more egregious, every time Ballard told her story, he would lower her age to garner more sympathy ... as if her being seventeen wasn't sad enough. In one instance, he claimed she was 14. In another, he claimed she was 11. Ballard also exploited Liliana's story as a reason for needing stricter border patrols and a better wall, despite the fact that she was being abused in America. There is no evidence to suggest OUR had anything to do with her rescue.

Ballard and his "organisation" have even ruined entire legitimate rescue operations in other countries and put children at risk, like in the Dominican Republic, where he endangered the lives of 26 girls by playing vigilante, being followed around by a camera crew, and causing a shootout that effectively traumatised the children he used as a prop to lure in buyers. His response to the mishap and rightful criticism by the Dominican police was basically, "Well ... you win some, you lose some."

The children were released without receiving any therapy or rehabilitative care, and Anne Gallagher, the leading global expert on the international law on human trafficking, said that OUR has an "alarming lack of understanding about how sophisticated criminal trafficking networks must be approached and dismantled" and went on to call the work of OUR "arrogant, unethical, and illegal". Those children easily could've been shot and killed. This occurred in 2014, but Ballard still insists that his "rescues" be filmed, and he even pitched it as a reality TV show. His reasoning for this, he says, is to "spread awareness", but we all know it's because he loves the spotlight.

Entire law enforcement agencies have actually cut ties with or even condemned OUR, such as Washington State Law Enforcement, as a result of Ballard's proclivity to conflate child sex trafficking with consensual adult sex work. Ballard and OUR regularly set up sting operations and lambasted the men who showed up for kink play, publicly branding them as pedophiles, even though the men in question were under the impression that they were meeting for sex with consenting, adult women. This led to several lawsuits against OUR, all of which they rightfully lost.

Ballard's means of gathering intelligence is also questionable, as he, by his own admission, sometimes consults psychic mediums for information on missing children and asks where they're being held captive. I genuinely wish I was joking about that.

The main actor in Sound of Freedom, Jim Caviezel, also has ties to the Qanon movement, and Caviezel himself is a hardcore conspiracy theorist. He believes that Donald Trump is "the new Moses" and that "liberals [literally] drink the blood of children". This is ironic, considering Caviezel and Ballard both met Trump several times, yet never pressed him for information regarding Epstein's client list. Moreover, Caviezel and Ballard both donate to the Catholic Church, which funds the largest child sex trafficking ring on the southern border and has a history of rampant sexual abuse of children. Even more insane, Caviezel admitted to watching child porn, to apparently "get in character" for the movie. He claimed that if Ballard had to watch it, it only "made sense" that he'd have to watch it, too. To "motivate" him to fight child trafficking.

...Alright, bud.

Surprise, surprise, both men are also outspokenly anti-LGBTQ+, despite the fact that children/teens in that community are statistically more likely to be trafficked. The majority of child trafficking is not the result of random kidnappings, as the movie would have you believe. The majority of children are actually recruited into sexual exploitation by a family member or friend/boss. The majority of those children are also not generally passed around in Mexico, like this racist, white savior-oriented movie would have you believe, but they actually either stay in or end up in America. America is, in fact, the largest consumer of child porn and child sex slaves this side of the globe (and nearly the largest producer), yet the movie depicts almost every pedophile as Mexican or some other non-white race.

At the end of the movie, Ballard comes on screen and asks people to donate/buy tickets for others, so that the movie can spread awareness. This is why so many seats in certain theatres are empty, despite websites saying the seats are sold out. Whether or not Angel Studios is also shadow purchasing tickets to boost sales can't be proven, obviously, but I wouldn't put it past them. These "conspiracies" have all served to market the movie and boost ticket sales.

As for Disney trying to keep the movie shelved, that's also a lie. Yes, Disney did technically shelve the movie when they bought Fox, since it didn't exactly correspond with its family-friendly brand, but they had no problem with the movie being released under a different studio. The actual reason Sound of Freedom was in "production hell" for five years was because Tim Ballard kept trying to milk donations. Despite the fact that filming wrapped up in 2018, he kept asking for more and more and more. He used people's faith and understandably emotional response to something as wicked as pedophilia to rake in millions. That's what Ballard is really about, money and stardom. In the movie, there's even a post-credit message where Jim Caviezel says the movie was held back to "maximize its distribution and raise awareness about child sex trafficking".

Translation: Ballard greedy.

Ballard himself admitted the accuracy of this movie "isn't important", and that he just wanted to get the movie out to "spread the word". By that, he of course means the Christian word—but why should fighting child sex trafficking be tied to religion? At the end of the day, Sound of Freedom is a vanity project, and it spreads incredibly dangerous misinformation. Stranger still, Ballard left the OUR just prior to the debut of Sound of Freedom, a fact he's neglected to mention in every interview regarding the movie. It's not clear why he left, but it seems that he fled after an internal investigation into the organisation began. That's not too suspicious or anything. My guess is authorities are trying to find out were all that missing money went, and Ballard doesn't want to be there when they figure it out.

By the way, that final line you hit me with; "God's children are not for sale", the line from the movie that Ballard claims a fellow agent whispered to him while on a case, as well as the title of the movie, which another agent supposedly said to Ballard after a giant rescue operation—those were lies, too. No agents ever said that to him. The police reports for those cases, as well as the agents Ballard supposedly quoted, all said he was the last to arrive on the scene and those conversations never happened.

Ballard cannot be trusted and Sound of Freedom is based on a lie. It's a scam. Everything he does is a scam. All he cares about is spreading his ideology, making money, and looking like a superhero. And this is only the tip of the iceberg. Look into his other companies, and into the ex-military soldiers and police officers who left OUR because of how poorly trained their people are when it comes to rescue operations.

Every sane person knows pedophilia and human trafficking is wrong, but giving your money to Qanon-adjacent, right-wing leaning, LGBTQ+-hating, Catholic Church-sympathising, fame-chasing, money-hungry, perpetual liar Tim Ballard isn't going to help.

The best way to help out is learning about the signs of child trafficking. Keep an eye out for any children that might be getting abused. If you suspect something, report it, don't be a silent bystander. Volunteer within your community to make sure the children in your area have food and resources, support LGBTQ+ youth, and watch the other adults around you to ensure they're not acting inappropriately. You can also donate to social programs that create safe spaces for children and even apply for jobs that specialise in these fields. Don't go to see a movie just because it aligns with your religious beliefs, feel sad for a little while, then sit on your ass and let Tim Ballard handle everything.

#sound of freedom #tim ballard #jim caviezel #christianity #child trafficking #propaganda #angel studios #I can't believe you made me defend Disney

[blingblong55]

Masquerade -Call of Duty

This is a collection of quotes from a radio show called 'Dangerously Yours' from Ep titled 'Masquerade'. (none of these quotes or ideas of how the story develops are mine.)

---- GN!Reader, enemy!Reader, enemy!COD character, enemies to lovers? ----

You are a spy for your country, you were sent to kill the target so you made him/her fall in love and you also fell into your own trap. Neither of you can be with the other for if you are, you'll both get killed. So, you tell him/her what your plans were and he/she tells you they knew all along. You are in denial of your feelings for him/her and in the end, you end up killing him/her. His/her last words were, 'I love you R/N." And as his/her people asked if he/she needed help, all they said was basically no, that they want you to find your own path in life and that with hope, someday, you would believe that they were truly in love with you which is very much true.

This next part is of the characters in COD that I think would be the ones playing Rudolph Estefan and you of course play Catherine. These quotes are taken from the comment section...and from what i listened to as I wrote them down

[Italic for the COD character]

----

(Vladimir Makarov)

“Look, [R/N], a shooting star! Did you wish?”

“Oh, I didn’t have time.”

“Then there is something you wish for.”

“Yes…”

“What did you wish?”

“I was wishing that… we were two other people. Two people who need not say goodbye.”

“Perhaps it can be that way.”

----

(Valeria Garza)

[Orange is a third character]

“Oh, I wish you wouldn’t go to see that woman/man tonight, [ma'am]-“

“how could I stay away? Elvear, for the first time in my life, I am completely, head-over-heels in love!”

“but countess Garza-“

“I know what you’re thinking, ‘I have a mission to perform and I have no right to fall in love', but… things don’t always work out the way we’d like to have them work out, hey Elvear?”

“oh, I don’t know what’s to come of all this, sir.”

“no, Elvear, neither do I. Neither do I, but perhaps we shall find out tonight.”

----

(Alejandro Vargas) "[R/N], I offer you the three things most dear to me, my heart, my country and my dreams."

"You are too generous."

"[R/N], you must listen to me. Since that first hour we met, I've been completely yours. There's never been anyone else for me, there never will."

"Oh please, please don't say anymore. There are worlds between us, worlds that can't be crossed with words."----

(Alex Keller)

"I'm going to tell you something [R/N], something that will put my life in your hands."

"your life..."

"It would mean my life were the news to get to certain circles yes."

"Then don't tell me, how do you know you can trust me?"

"I love you...and I believe you love me."

----

(John Price)

“you may as well take my heart, [R/N], it’s already full of you. You walked into it the day we met.”

“You’re a fool, John Price.”

“but isn’t any man who falls in love?”

----

(Simon 'Ghost' Riley)

"Do you know what you are to me? You are something to believe in again. You're a type of person that had ceased to exist for me. A fine honest woman/man."

----

(Rodolfo Parra)

“Oh, my darling, you’re such a child. take your foolish little dream in your heart and go, please go!”

“what is it, what’s wrong my dear?”

“you know nothing about me- you’ve known me only three weeks!”

“three weeks…? [R/N], I’ve known you all my life.”

“all your life.”

“it’s true! I’ve seen you in a thousand plays, and read you in as many books. when I’ve heard beautiful music I’ve thought, ‘[She’d/He'd] like that.’ I’ve looked at flowers and known that one day I’d give them to you-“

“Oh, stop, stop! you must listen to me. I am not that woman/man! Perhaps I was once, but I am not now! You see… you were wrong. you can’t trust me.”

----

(Logan Walker)

"I had Elvear look you up the day you arrived."

"And it...it didn't make any difference?"

"It didn't make any difference. You see, I trust you. You came here to betray me and to betray my country, that is your mission countess/count [R/N]. And yet I'm so sure of your love that I will trust you with my life and what is far more valuable the life of my country."

----

(John 'Soap' MacTavish)

“if I betray you…I betray myself. If I betray him, I betray my country. My country is very dear to me.”

“dearer than I?”

“no…no, not dearer than you.”

----

(John Price)

“You’re very clever, aren’t you? I can read you like a book now. You thought I was young, and easily swayed, that you could make me love you, and I would throw over my country—my duty for you—!”

“That's not the way to look at it, [R/N].”

“You weren’t so wise after all! Because you’ve lost you hear me?! Lost! You’ve guessed wrong in our little duel of wits! You forgot how close hate is to love!”

“You don’t know what you’re saying [R/N].”

“You never loved me—! You knew that I loved you, and you used that!”

“[R/N] stop talking like a child—we’re playing for countries now!”

“Yes we are, aren’t we!”

----

(Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick)

“This is a gun in my hand, Kyle…I’d advise you to be careful what you say.”

“Well, rather melodramatic, aren’t you? tell me, will I be the seventh notch on the gun or the eighth? haha. do you mind if I smoke?”

“…smoke?”

“I always smoke at the theatre. somehow it enhances the performance.”

“You can do anything you please, Kyle, but you have very little time to do it in.”

----

(Keegan P. Russ)

“…You mean you’re actually going to kill me...?”

“I mean just that.”

“Well…go ahead.”

“…I’ll do this my own way…Look…you already know my purpose in being here. Now you will either give me my information, or I will kill you. You have until 9 o’clock.”

“You won’t do it. You can’t pull the trigger. You can’t pull it because you love me. It takes a very brave and a very cold woman/man to do that [R/N], I don’t think you can…Isn’t that true? Isn’t that why you’re waiting…?”

“That's not true!”

----

(Simon 'Ghost' Riley)

“Or is it that you want to watch your victim? You want my heart to constrict with agony, my hands to shake! You want me to plead for my life so you can make a generous gesture and spare me…Sorry [R/N], I don’t seem to be in the mood for prayers tonight.”

“You don’t think I’ll do it? That's why you’re so brave…You don’t think I’ll do it…You wouldn’t be so brave otherwise…! You’re a coward at heart! You lied to me, you deceived me—“

“You lied to me…you deceived me!”

“You tried to deceive me.”

“I’m tired of listening to you!”

“You gave me your heart, you know. You’d like me to hand it back, whole again, but I won’t. You’ll live a long time yet, [R/N], an eternity without me. You will look into the faces of passers-by, hoping for something that will, for an instant, bring me back to you. You will find moonlit nights strangely empty because when you call my name through them there will be no answer. Always your heart will be aching for me and your mind will give you the doubtful consolation that you did a brave thing.”

“you dare to talk of bravery.”

“what else do we have to talk about, [R/N]? For me, there will never be another woman/man but you. But for my heart, there is another love that must come before you, my country.”

----

(König)

“you’re so still… your face is like ice. what are you thinking, [R/N]?”

“…what does anything you can say matter? You betrayed me with words. What good are words… when your heart is breaking? if I fail now, I should deserve to die. You tricked me into loving you.”

“Aren’t you forgetting that you came here for the same purpose?”

“I couldn’t have betrayed you, I tried to tell you- you said you already knew. I was as honest as I knew how to be.”

“Do you think I wanted to love you, knowing where you came from and what your mission was? Don’t you suppose that every hour we were together I was thinking, ‘[She’s/He's] just pretending’?”

“I wasn’t! I loved you!”

“and I loved you so much I let you pretend! Because you brought something to my days I couldn’t stand the thought of losing. Listen to your heart [R/N]. Feel it pounding.”

----

(All of the COD characters...for sure)

“Your time is up.”

“Then, my last words, I love you, [R/N].”

“You’re determined to die with a lie on your lips?!”

*gunshot*

“I…love you, [R/N]…”

“Oh, god.”

----

(All of the COD characters...for sure)

“Tell her/him the truth? Tell her the truth so that she/he will watch the stars through tears instead of following the one cold star that is her/his destiny? No, no, Elvear, let her/him think I never loved her/him. One day, she/he will follow a flag to the same fate as mine. We must…leave her/him the strength for that hour.”

A/N: Anyway...hope you liked it?

#mwii #ghost cod #mw2 141 #cod #141 #logan walker #keegan p russ #alex keller #alejandro vargas #rodolfo parra #konig x reader #cod gaz #könig call of duty #könig cod #cod ghost #cod modern warfare #cod price #cod soap #call of duty #valeria garza #cod mw3 #vladimir makarov #cod mwf2 #mw2 #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john price

[delicatelystrangepolice]

Another thing is, I never read YR as a political/cultural commentary piece because I believe it was way subtler in the first two seasons. Maybe it was easier for me not to read into it since I watched the show without any major context in the beginning.

What I saw were just the characters in this story, behaving pretty believably in their environment, their actions logical for their context, and conflicts coming just from circumstances.

I never read Wille any other way than just a teenager – I saw people using very strong words about him, from ‘helpless damaged baby’ to ‘spoiled and selfish brat.’ Since the story was immersive enough for me to see him like a real person, I never liked the simplifications of his character. Maybe I come from very specific experiences, but partying and acting up teenagers is nothing new to me. Being dramatic, neither. Those behaviors are not exclusive to rich/privileged kids. I mostly saw him as just a little troubled, trying to orient himself in the situation he found himself in.

But there comes Simon. Now I get that people accept he was just a plot device the reason for Wille to throw away the crown, but I firmly believe he was not written that way in the beginning. Simon felt as real as Wille. He had his own huge context, his troubles and characteristics – I always saw him as a real person as well. Also, I never saw him as a victim either. Again, that’s probably both because the show was written subtly enough and because I don’t have a simplistic worldview.

Social injustice is naturally a very close matter to my heart. I keep myself hopeful about the world, despite seeing some devastating shit in my life, because I believe in change. I believe in people working together, I believe in communities and parties willing to compromise for a cause.

I can’t comment much about the monarchy aspect of it, but what I gathered is that people don’t like the very concept of it. The right to be born in the right family and so on…

Well, the realist in me knows that people will always be born into something. It doesn’t matter that it’s not written in the law – countries without monarchies have some biggest social inequalities in the world. Russia is a great example. But the USA doesn’t fall far back behind either. Nowadays the inequalities come simply from being born into money. And it’s always going to be a thing. All around the world. I wish people understood that.

Inequalities aren’t diminished by revolutions, I don’t think (pretty sure some historians would agree with me although they are very welcome to correct me) They can be reduced however by the whole community working together. By stopping multiplying divisions and starting to talk. By listening to understand and not just to argue against.

I can’t help being angry at the message from YR because Sweden is one of the most progressive and developed countries in the world. Their social system is admired around the world, I think. Even their education system is the model others can only aspire to. I’m not saying they don’t have problems, but you know, in the bigger context…

Maybe it takes someone raised in a post-communist country to see those things that way.  I just know that, deep down in my soul, destroying something is rarely the way. Building on that thing, adding to it, changing it to include – that’s how things are done to improve.

True both for countries and for worldviews.

Now, you started to read it because you thought I was talking about the show, and by the end of it you realized you were just reading my socialistic manifesto? Good. That’s how I felt watching Young Royals. But since the big media creators can do it on mainstream platforms, I figured a simple person could do it on their weird blog too.

#young royals #I just... okay #don't even ask hahaha

[cupidl0vesy0u]

I know my following is small, and everything was already said, but I just wanted to say something.

Just so y’all know, this is probably gonna a be long post ->

———

I as a lot of people love qsmp for it’s magic of getting people from around the world speaking and forming friendship together. And learning each other’s cultures in such a different ways.

I know I’m probably not the only one, but I’m not someone who’s from English speaking countries (America and such), I been always ‘forced’ to use English if I needed to buy or talk to someone in online spaces. And even if my culture is not that massive as others i know the pain of being made fun for my language or even country.

It’s been a lot of times I been called Russian, and getting sexualized for my looks and our countries history with them. Or people not wanting to learn and forgetting my own countries existence.

When Quackity started to stream more in Spanish I felt happiness and even if I didn’t understand him, I still tried to look for translation but only found angry comments how he should talk in English, and stopped talking Taco Bell. (I will never forgot these ‘jokes�� I know it’s hard for people who don’t know the struggle, but it still feels really disrespectful…)

But seeing this project showing people the magic of others culture, even if mine wasn’t there… I felt loved.

When Chayanne showed Germans traditions that was really similar to mine, I felt happiness at the way everyone loved it.

When new people showed up and everyone tried to learn how to say hello in their language or didn’t spoke English and used the translation instead.

I love seeing how all of their English got better or the ability to try to learn different languages even if there’s translation available.

—

I love this community and as someone who loved dsmp I really know how much this hurts.

But don’t worry! We still have each other, we made art and expressed what made it all even greater then it already was. I really appreciate you writers, artists, people who do cosplay and even people who didn’t had the courage to interact publicly in the fandom like me until now.

And the most important the Admins! I really appreciate you and what you did, even if its only giving life to ‘characters’ you played. You helped me with sadness I been feeling for while, and i think I’m not only one who said this but I wish you the best of luck on future projects, even if you decided to never interact with qsmp again.

I loved and still love this community we made, even if it had it’s downs and ups.

I will not leave, but I will try focusing on my own mental health and everyone who needs it.

I’m not comfortable with venting but if anyone just wants to talk about fanart or just have their mind on something else, feel free to dm me! I’m really bad at this, but I know it’s hard if your someone who didn’t interact online or doesn’t have irl friends or someone to talk this through with.

I know there’s probably a lot of grammar mistakes but I just wanted to share my love to everyone who was really feeling down with all this stuff happening.

I love you qsmp and even if this is the end or the new start. ❤️

#qsmp #qsmp discourse #qsmp discussion #qadmin situation #thank you quackity #thank you every admin that helped this project grow #thanks everyone here #I’m from Czech Republic if anyone wants to know why I mentioned being called Russian #i know it’s not that deep #but it really hurts #hyperfixation #qsmp admins #quackity

[navxry]

...

Birthdays are not widely known to the God of World Destruction. In fact, it was the opposite for them, as only a few cared to remember their birthday.

For them, the occasion is something they paid no heed to. What use is there for a celebration when they have work to do in the Void of Creation? Only their following bothered to remember it, and the majority either feared or hated destruction for what it's worth. It would only be counter-intuitive to even say that it should be celebrated.

But every time they spoke about that sentiment to others, they were met with either denial or divergence.

"Why do you not see your birthday as a worthy occasion?" the King of Hell asked them once, putting down his violin to face the other more clearly. "You seem to dislike it when it comes. You even stopped Azrael from informing others when it was clear he had good intentions."

The God seem to hesitate, their frown deepening at his comment.

"Many others in my past always forget it's my day of birth, Lucifer," they answered, reluctant to even spare him a glance. "It's almost like a normal day to them— a day where nothing is celebrated. It hurts when I have to make it obvious to them by mentioning its a special occasion for me, when they have never failed to remember others and their birthdays."

Lucifer frowned. He always hated it when Navina had compared themselves to others, especially on the topic of themself.

"That's because they're ignorant," he said, his hair moving to pat their head as gently as he could, for his arms ceased to work as it used to. "And even if they never fail to do that for others, why would they do it now? I say that they were doing it to their friends, not for everyone."

"Hah, I wish," they muttered with a frown. "They always celebrated others, but... It's like they forgot about me."

Forgetting... Such a painful curse that many would do.

"Lucifer, I know you and everyone remembered it and try to make it feel special, but... Before then, everyone always forgets its my birthday. Not even the people I call 'friends' in the flesh bothered, except for those who I've met from other countries that knew me better than those I'm with."

The albino can only look down at their hands, soiled from the constant burning of the worlds and the ashes of the lives lost. They felt tears built up from their eyes, the sorrow getting to them more and more.

It hurts to remember. They wish they simply forgot, so that they wouldn't feel the pain they do now.

"What use is celebrating a God they despised? What use is there to even acknowledge that God when all they have is blood on their hands?"

The King paused, but simply sighed.

"Your followers celebrate you because they know of your valiant efforts, Navina. Even if others have forgotten that occasion, they are but a dime of dozen that do."

His hair moved to grab the violin again, the other tendrils grabbing letters of people wishing them the same thing. Handing the papers to them, the God sniffed and opened each of them, their eyes widening at the sight.

So many of them wished them a birthday today— some from different worlds, even. Their messages were all personalized, with some (like Rosehearts) inviting them to his unbirthday party to celebrate theirs, while others (with the likes of Albedo) mentioning that he had an experiment for them to try with him.

There were even others, like Esther, Mei, Brynn, Jessamine, Carmine, Tae, Sam, Yami, Fifi... Their own companions wishing them the same thing. Those that still remembered them, and those that clearly still stayed even when they weren't human.

"See?" the violinist hummed in satisfaction, his wide grin returning once more. "Maybe the people you're with have forgotten about the occasion today, but there's far more that remember it. All you need to do is change your perspective."

The God was speechless. It was difficult to even say such a word with so many wishing them the same thing. But after a while, they managed to crack a smile.

Even if the tears fell, it was not out of sorrow, but of joy.

It was nice to be remembered for once, even if it's only for today.

AAAAAA HI Y'ALL HAIUHFSRUI sorry for the sad drabble, I needed the hurt/comfort because I've experienced people that seem to forgor my birthday, but I also wanted to give light to people that said their birthday wishes to me.

Special thanks for the people I mentioned for simply existing (and for greeting me) <3 y'all may not have gifts, or you guys are busy to make some, but being friends with y'all had been the best gift I ever want.

Anyways, here's to many years of being together. Cheers!

(tagging the people I mentioned/my mutuals: @mixed-kester ; @meimeimeirin ; @beloved-brynn ; @nice-chiaki ; @paperbcy ; @pastel-rights ; @fffiii ; @leftdestiny-posts ; + many others that I forgor but are my mutuals, pls rb if I forgor you Im sorry HAIUHDSFI)

#'navina' deciphers... ⟡ 𓆪 #about apeiron... ⟡ 𓆪

[stevetonyweekly]

SteveTony Weekly - December 30th

Welcome to the final SteveTony Weekly of the year! Tomorrow I’ll be sharing my short list of favorite reads of the year--enjoy these and be sure to leave comment and kudos for your authors if you enjoy them! 

~

ends of the earth by meidui

“We have a new deal,” Tony interrupts. “From now on, you feel like you messed up, you come home to me. You come home to New York and we figure it out together. If you’re on this cross country road trip and living on a farm because you like it, fine, I’ll come out and visit. But if you’re out here because you’re sorry, I’ve got some bad news for you, buddy. Not even you could fix the entire world.”

They always slip so briskly and unexpectedly into conversations like this. There’s never been anything between them to thaw. Tony has been a bullet through the heart since they first met and he’s still lodged there, and Steve doesn’t know how to get him out.

He doesn’t deserve Tony coming all the way down to Illinois with his million watt attention and a slice of that blunt kindness of his.

the steve rogers rating system by meidui

Tony has an internalised Steve Rogers rating system, but it’s not standardised. It’s also not a foolproof system because Steve behaves in ways that crash it all the time.

everything and the kitchen sink by meidui

Steve eats a lot after the serum (and stashes snacks in his utility belt).

How Close Am I To Losing You by tinystark616

Three different stories about the first time Steve says "I love you" to Tony.

Unseen, unheard by lomku 

Tony and Steve have a furtive encounter. Tony wishes they could have more.

you'd think they'd be married by now by FunSizedMomo 

Tony can cook.

Steve loves Tony's cooking. And baking.

Oh and he loves Tony too.

Thoughtful Indulgences by HeLovedYou (come_chaos)

Tony takes Steve to space for their second anniversary together.

Sun Spots and Other Warm Things by s_p_r_o_u_t

Steve takes care of Tony on a bad mental health day. Lots of sappy fluff!

Nothing Wrong by tinystark616

As the Avengers' leader, Steve always praises each member of the team for their good work.

Except for Tony.

In Arrears by Sineala 

Steve had nearly forgotten what day it was, because he hadn't exactly wanted to write "roleplay elaborate landlord/tenant sexual fantasy with Tony" on his calendar where other people might see it. He suspected Tony actually had written precisely that on his, but, well, that was why he and Tony were two different people.

Coincidences by ladyshadowdrake

Steve hasn't been to a Quidditch game since his mother was still alive, but the US is playing in the World Cup, so why not? He definitely doesn't expect to run into Tony there.

light of my life by tinystark616

Steve has always loved Tony's arc reactor.

And he's always loved Tony.

Make Me Laugh, Make Me Come (At the Same Time) by Sadisticsparkle (sadisticsparkle)

This was it. After many months of sudden invasions, unexpected heists, and at least two zombie outbreaks, they had an entire night for themselves.

this love came back to me by complicationstoo 

It's been two and half years since the last time Steve and Tony saw each other, but the pieces fall right back into place when a chance meeting connects them again.

fourth time's the charm by complicationstoo 

Three times Steve's gifts for Tony didn't go as planned, and the one time it went right.

dreamt of you all summer long by complicationstoo

Steve spends months after the breakup trying to forget Tony, but it never seems to work. That's alright, though, because Tony can't forget him either.

once in a lifetime by meidui for Areiton

“You should be worried that I'll break into your apartment, steal your identity and flee the country with all your money,” Steve says, one arm slung lazily across Tony's chest, playing with the key to his safe. “You shouldn't go around handing out keys to people, you know.”

Tony makes a low, offended noise and grabs Steve’s chin, making him laugh. “Is that what you think I do?”

By The Numbers by JenTheSweetie

“I’m not certain that obtaining a larger vessel will assist him in vanquishing this most dangerous sea creature,” Thor said firmly.

Or, five ways other than battles that the Avengers measured a year.

The Ballad of Captains America by JenTheSweetie

“The thing I want you all to remember, when this is over,” Tony said to Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov, Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton, Clint Barton, Bruce Banner, and Bruce Banner, and fuck, they really needed to find Thor, or possibly Thors, “is that I was planning to use this for good, not evil."

do i wanna know by JenTheSweetie

When Steve Rogers woke up, they told him a lot of things.

They told him they’d fixed things been wrong back before, and that the world was better now. They told him that SHIELD was where he belonged, that they took only the best and the brightest and the bravest. They told him that with his help, they were going to save the world.

They also told him Tony Stark was dangerous.

But Steve Rogers once jumped on top of a grenade, so really, it’s all relative.

#stevetony weekly #steve rogers #tony stark #stevetony #stony #iron man #captain america #stevetony fic #stony fic #fic rec

[hannahssimblr]

For Simblr Gratitude Day!

This year, 2023 has been a really really amazing year for me creatively. I wrote over 270K words, I started and finished both parts 2 and 3 of Lucky Girl and I started Lucky Boy! When I began writing last year I really didn't see myself at this point, having written so much, having improved so much, and most importantly, having falling completely head over heels for this amazing community

Without the support and amazing feedback from so many people I would have quit a long time ago, but coming here and talking to you guys and being so incredibly inspired by other work is what really pushed me past the finish line. I want to express my gratitude for every single person who engaged with me this year, for those who liked and commented and shared and left me questions and anon asks, and even those who didn't, and just read along in silence - I see you there! You can't hide! Thank you so much.

This graph only shows my top 10, but I reached over 50 countries this year! that's pure mad.

You can see that it's the Americans and the British who really came through for me, and I'm sorry for poking gentle fun at you in my story - I know you are more than semi-automatic machine guns, UFOs & undesirable tourists, you know how it is, we're like the ignored middle child between you two and I'd be going against my cultural heritage if I didn't act up a little bit.

Most importantly I want to thank specific people today! Starting with @armoricaroyalty for making this day happen, and @daniigh0ul for coming up with the idea. I'm really excited to get to know you both much better in the new year & finally find the time to start reading your stuff - I've heard only good things.

to @sirianasims for poking me to join the writers group that has now absolutely swallowed up my free time (in a good way lmao) and for being hilarious and fun and just generally a gorgeous, open and supportive person. I've been reading Siri's story lately and I INSIST you check it out - I'm on gen 3 and completely obsessed by the thought that goes into this, the complexity of the relationships and really sensitive exploration of difficult material.

to @lynzishell for always being so positive and engaged, always taking the time to leave thoughtful comments and get genuinely excited over everyone's work! I'm DUG INTO her legacy, which is still on gen 1 and it makes my day better every single time I see an update from her - and I'm not even just saying that to be nice. It's an honest to god thrill for me to get to read about her characters. I'm beyond excited for what she's going to do in the new year

@mannylikessims deserves a shout out too for writing some of the best and funniest simlit I've had the pleasure of reading in a long time. Those Villarreal kids (and Jacques, obviously) have me on the edge of my seat. I feel insatiable for this story, like, give me more, all of the time. Just shovel it into my mouth. Manny has also brought me to literal tears with her comments. It's rare enough that you meet a reader that seems to truly understand what you're trying to say in your work - like, right to the heart of it, and Manny is one of those people.

I've just recently started reading @rebouks Somnium and Forever In Between (Don't do what I did if you haven't read yet - start with Somnium) and when I say I am HOOKED I mean it. The visuals alone are enough to make me want to burst into tears with the knowledge that I will never wrangle something so beautiful from the game, but you know what, that's okay, because I can come here and sob over Becca's work instead. I'm not even halfway through and I'm already bowled over by the character development, the dialogue, the humour, everything. The only thing I wish is that I had unlimited free time and 0 commitments so I could absolutely consume this work in one sitting, but I guess savoring it is good too.. Thank you Becca for pure inspiration <3

@pixelnrd for The Langston Legacy, a decades challenge which was actually the first sims 4 legacy I ever read - I stumbled across it on my very first day on simblr and I've loved loved loved it every since. The visuals are gorgeous, the story lines are always engaging, and just about every topic under the sun has been covered now. The dedication to accuracy is really admirable, and now that we've reached the 80s I'm genuinely beginning to feel nostalgic. I always find myself wanting more. I'm so much looking forward to the 90s! (And I can't believe you've made it this far, that's an achievement and a half)

Other storytellers and creators I want to shout out are @simstrashkingdom, @bakersimmer @simmysunset @igglemouse @simsstuph - You guys have created some really great stories this year, and I so long forward to reading more!

To @nexility-sims for creating our wonderful writing group (and for pairing with me) I'm dying to start reading your work properly, because even the small bits I've read have been so beautiful.

And to everyone else in the writing group! I know I have so many stories to catch up on, and I'm very intimidated by that fact, but I know that it means that 2024 holds a lot of exciting times! I want to learn from you all and be inspired and support you, so this is the year I'm going to do it <3

#simblr gratitude day #there's so much #so many people to thank #i'm so sorry if i forgot someone i'm overwhelmed

[startanewdream]

#1 - Cottage, for April AU @jilymicrofics. Theme: Childhood friends AU

Petunia is frowning, looking down the street with contempt. Lily doesn’t understand it.

“Do you want to look around?” She asks. 

Petunia shakes her head. “I want to go away! I don’t want to live here!”

Lily throws her a sympathetic look that Petunia ignores; there isn’t anything any of them can do now. Their parents just signed the contract and now the Evans are the owners of a nice cottage in the country.

Lily doesn’t want to say anything, but she is happy with this change. Sure, she will miss their home in London, her school and her friends, but there’s something about this village that looks far more charming; perhaps it’s the old look of the town, one that takes her back to Roman times, or the cottages that seem to have existed there since Shakespeare was a boy, but whatever it is, she could swear that Godric’s Hollow is almost magical—

“There are no other kids here,” Petunia adds, moping. She turns to enter the house. “We will be all alone with old people.”

Lily had always thought her sister fared better with grownups — everyone always commented how proper and well-behaved she was — but she doesn’t answer, Petunia’s concerns reaching her now. There is no school in the village, so they will study in a nearby town—but when they return home, that's it for the day, and Petunia says she is too old to keep company with Lily all the time now…

Perhaps this change wasn’t a good idea after all.

She kicks a stone in the ground, and sits dismayed on the porch in front of her new home. She doesn’t want to be alone—she closes her eyes and imagines all the magic in this small town swirling like a galaxy spiral, wishing that she won’t be alone—

And the universe seemingly answers her, for when Lily opens her eyes, she finds a boy around her age in front of her, looking just as amazed to find her there as she is to see him.

“Hey,” he calls, smiling. “Are you the new neighbours?”

She nods. “We've just moved here.”

“Thank Merlin for that, when Mrs. Bagshot told me a new family was moving, I thought she meant another ancient couple from the time she wrote her book.”

Lily isn’t sure she understands half of what he means. “Ah—my parents are young.”

“Oh, mine aren’t, though Dad says wine tastes better with age.”

“I don’t drink wine.”

“Me neither, it smells funny.” 

She blinks. “And I’m ten.”

“Oh.” He frows for a moment, worried. “I’m nine. When is it your birthday?”

“January.”

“So you’ve just turned ten?” Lily nods. “Oh, my birthday is next month, you’re not that much older then.” He throws her a mischievous smile. “We can be friends!”

“I don’t know if I can be friends with someone so young.”

“Oh, it’s just two months—”

She giggles. “I’m joking! You should have seen your face.” He watches her for a moment before breaking into a laugh.

“Okay, you are fun, new neighbour.”

“I have a name, old neighbour. It’s Lily. Lily Evans.”

He smiles broadly. “I’m James. James Potter,” he says, copying her. “Have you gone to the old playground yet?” She shakes her head. “It’s just at the end of the street, can you go?”

Lily looks down the street; as long as she keeps her house in sight, her parents don’t mind her exploring the place. “Yes.”

“Brilliant!” They walk together; James seems to bounce rather than walk, which amuses her. “I almost never go to the playground. Mum gets too tired and it’s stupid to swing alone.”

Her eyes sparkle. “I love swings.”

“Me too! It’s like—” He smiles to himself now. “Like flying.” James steals a glance at her, then he lowers his voice. “Can I share a secret with you? You cannot tell anyone.” She nods. “I can fly.”

Lily thinks about letting go of the swing at the very height of the arc and, instead of falling, flowing into the air, soaring like a fairy.

“Do you want to hear a secret, James?” She asks, just as secretive as him. “So can I.”

#jily microfic #1 - cottage #childhood au #jily #jily fic #april au #700 words

[beardedmrbean]

I’m genuinely trying not to slide into Islamaphobia. I’m in a fandom that for whatever reason has a lot of Muslims/people from Islamic countries (they’re all part of the majority population in their respective countries); and all of them have basically put a pause on fandom stuff to say absolutely vile things about Israel, and are very much doing the “kill yourself if you feel otherwise” thing. Reading all this I just had a moment where it hit me that anytime an Islamic holy day happens everyone wishes them well, and they seem to expect the well wishes and respect. I have never, ever seen them do the same for anyone else. No happy holidays to any other religious group. They’re also the kind of people that sound the alarm whenever there’s rights abuses and hate crimes, but never when it’s about antisemitic attacks, which as we all know have unfortunately never been rare. Hell, I realized I never bring up that I’m Catholic because I think I always subconsciously knew that would put me on thin ice with all of them. And I guess I was okay with this?? With knowing ostracization could occur to me at any moment? It’s like getting a bucket of ice dumped on me. And it’s like everyone else has said; if this was truly about Israel and not Jewish people, they’d say something about attacks on the Jewish diaspora, but they’re not. There would be something about not blaming or hurting Jews for Israel, but there isn’t. I can’t see the disproportionate hate for Israel as anything other than blatant antisemitism. And I haven’t seen any of the people I (formerly) followed prove me wrong. And it’s making me feel some pretty hateful feelings that I do not want.

Saw the image in this tweet and I went to look to see if it's real or a edit being passed around as real, haven't managed to find that one out yet so I'm not going to say if it is or not, my gut says yes but that's not a real source, regardless of that it will serve to make a point.

That being

It's the absolute lack of any consistency that's getting me the worst

The near 100% obvious feds making up seemingly most of that one patriot front group on their marches are treated as something to be feared and shunned and looked down on because of their hateful rhetoric which if they're spouting it then yes absolutely condemn them but also admit the obvious bit about some them being feds.

But this pops up on a feed and all of a sudden we get this action, all of a sudden false flags are a possibility that has to be entertained.

And oh lord the calling for the deaths of J6 people from some of the same people that decided to cheer for the mass slaughter at a rave, something that isn't even associated with the government beyond permitting, how does anyone make that connection in their minds.

Sorry, I might be adding more fuel to what's going on in your head with my own observations here, but it kinda needs to be said.

It's infuriating.

You being Catholic does get to let me segue really well here now too.

Said it in an ask last night as well, managed to land in a Catholic subreddit somehow and there were people popping off about Deus Vult and cleansing the Holy Land of unbelievers once and for all, it didn't read like a joke in the slightest past the first comment.

Not something I'm going to hold against Catholics

It's not going to be all Catholics thinking like that and it's not going to be all Muslims that are cheering on hamass, feels that way because that's what we're seeing.

Go see what Imam Tawhidi has to say though, never really super popular with the loud Muslims on the internet, but it's good to see him and remember that there are reformers out there.

Hating Muslims would include hating folks like him, not that I always agree with the dude but he's trying to get some positive changes in the way Muslims interact with the rest of the world.

Funny guy too

#anonymous

[discodeviant]

Deceiver, Dissembler

Billy/Steve | Mature | 1k words Referenced Abuse

Again, the idea for this changed like seven times, but I hope you like what I've landed on! Also just... assume there's no upside down in anything I write because there never is lmao. Enjoy <3

Made for @billyhargrovebingo!

Read on AO3

It used to feel like a panic attack. An abrupt, painful grip around his lungs—the truth hiding somewhere deep in his heart where it was shallow enough for Neil to reach in and grab it himself. He always knew where to poke his fingers, what to hold onto, what strings to pull so Billy would talk; and by the end, Billy was hardly skin and bones. But the void he felt afterwards was better than panic, so he accepted it for a long time.

Then, one day, it felt like a challenge. The panic didn’t have time to set in before exhaustion—boredom—because the routine was so tired by then. Questions repeated themselves every other day about where Billy was, who he was with, why this or that was missing and what did he do with it.

At seventeen, it felt like a prayer.

Hawkins made it easy and all the more difficult; he could lie because no one knew the truth. No one knew Billy Hargrove better than Billy himself, but some people liked to think they did. Tommy Hagan—he thought he had Billy all figured out. Cali boy just needed a country fuck, that's why he was so uptight, it'd make him less nervous. He was good-looking, so it would be easy to get any girl on her knees or her back, but Billy always told Tommy to piss off because he didn't need a fuck, he needed a cigarette. "Suit yourself," Tommy would say, and Billy would flip him the bird.

Then came the bruises, and the performative little rivalry with Steve Harrington made them easy enough to explain at first when they shoved each other in the halls and got too handsy in the gym. Or Billy would say he got mugged in the city, and you should see the other guy. Sometimes it was true, but most times the other guy was unscathed. Spotless the next morning in a dress shirt and tie, neatly pressed under a trimmed moustache and clean-shaven chin. Knuckles never bruised either. No one would know a thing.

There was one truth that Neil chose to ignore most days, and while Billy was thankful for it, sometimes the worry was unavoidable. Sometimes he didn't think the lie would be enough, and the performative little rivalry with Steve Harrington made it harder to put the truth away for a time when it wouldn't be dangerous. It went from snide comments and glares to flirtatious quips and bedroom eyes in a matter of weeks. Steve would be the death of him, Billy swore it, for more reasons than one.

For a while it felt like a sin, lying to Steve, because Steve never lied to him. Omitted some information at times, but that wasn't the same. That wasn't what Billy did to him when he said that he couldn't go to the movies one night because Max needed help finishing a project, or that he wasn't in school because he had an appointment he couldn't miss. That he got in a scuffle outside of a bar because the owner caught whiff of a kid trying to buy whiskey. That he wasn't like that, because he was with Steve, and he never tried to hide it when they were alone.

At seventeen, Billy’s prayer was answered.

"Then what the fuck is this!" They were at the quarry after a long, quiet drive. Steve was out of breath once he'd replaced Billy's agonizing silence with a long string of hurt and confusion. He lowered his voice: "You kiss me. You let me wash your hair. You make me dinner before going back home. My knuckles are bruised every weekend because you bite down so hard when I fuck you, and you're gonna stand here and tell me you're not like that? Bullshit."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, just stop fucking lying to me, Billy! Do you have any idea how fucked up I am because everyone lies to me all the goddamn time? I don't believe anybody!" Steve's anger bloomed into a wide grin that Billy wished was happy. "Why bother with this if it's so bad that you can't even say it? Tell me!"

"Tell you what, man? That I'm a faggot who takes it up the ass from King Steve?"

Then Steve shrunk and stepped in closer, near-silent when he said, "That... that you like me, or—" Billy just kissed him, or tried to, before being pushed away. "Billy! Fuck, I'm serious,” he said with a sad smile and even sadder laugh, and Billy's cold hands found the ends of his hair once again to lock themselves in.

The truth swam around in Billy's mind and drained the water out through his eyes. "I don't wanna lie to you, Steve," he said, and Steve almost walked away, but the grip in his hair was too strong. "Jesus, will you let me finish?" Steve pouted. "Of course I fucking like you, okay?" Rolled his eyes with a huff; Billy kept his attention. "Just... the truth gets me in trouble, alright, and I don't want to drag you into it."

A deeper confession hid behind his lips.

"I'm already in it, Billy. I don't care. You don't have to lie to get me to stay."

He looked at Steve for a long while, not saying a word, considering whether that was a lie in itself. But Steve didn’t lie. Friends don’t lie. "I won't anymore," Billy said, but he knew it wouldn't be that easy, and Steve knew it too. "I'll try." He wiped his nose and tears in one motion with his sleeve.

Steve smiled, just a little. "Okay."

"You believe me?"

He nodded. "I trust you."

#.discowrites #stranger things #stranger things fic #one shot #billy hargrove #neil hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #billy hargrove bingo #billy is a compulsive liar #angst #kind of

[side-b-bumblebi]

Sometimes I feel like I'm walking on eggshells around other people's religious trauma and I don't know if they'd do the same for me.

I try to avoid anything that will upset them, try to avoid Christianity entirely if it makes them feel better, but they still feel more than happy to mock religious people, especially Christians, around me knowing that I am one.

Do they think it was a walk in the park having people speculate on whether or not LGBT people were going to hell for years? Do they think I enjoyed laying awake at night fighting tears because I thought my friends would hate me if they knew?

It's true, I've had an easier time than some. My mom used to have outdated ideas about LGBT stuff, but she's taken the time to educate herself. Maybe they resent that they didn't have that or something.

But... is it fair that I should face the brunt of that? Maybe I said stupid things to them before, BUT I WAS A CHILD. They gave me issues about my neurodivergent traits as a little girl that I'm still working through, but I've forgiven them, surely they can forgive me too? We were just kids who didn't know any better.

And I think they have forgiven me. They know I was young and they know they said some pretty dumb stuff when they were young too.

Yet why do they still treat me like I'm the one who hurt them? Why do they try so little to see me differently when I'm always trying so hard for them? Even silently praying before a meal or making a comment about some persecuted Christians in another country (keywords in another country) or something as tiny as wearing a cross necklace quickly gets me snide comments.

They remind me they have religious trauma. Okay. That is entirely fair and they should ask me to respect that. I've bent over backwards to respect that. But... I haven't seen an ounce of respect in return. I told them that it made me upset when they did these things because Christianity has been one of the few things that has helped me to stem my tendencies towards self-harm.

And they mocked me for it...

I'm trying so hard not to resent them and be bitter. I love them so much. We've been so close for years, I don't know what I would do without these people. But I don't feel like I can be myself around them. I'm starting to feel so very suffocated around them.

I just want to be me. I'm okay with being delicate and gentle if that's what they need. I just wish they'd do the same for me...

I have church wounds too... everyone thinks I don't, they think I'm Little Miss Perfect who's never had a problem. But I've struggled horribly with religious anxiety. I used to lie awake at night thinking about hell, terrified I would go there.

It's taken years for me to get to the point where I can really say I love God and not that I'm needlessly afraid of Him. I want to celebrate that, I want to shout it from the rooftops. And I want help on the days I stumble backwards. But they won't be happy for me. They only see what they want to see. They only see Little Miss Perfect. And even if they could get past that, they'd still think I was stupid for not just giving up on Christianity all together.

I'm so very sad right now. I don't know if I'll ever find people who love me for me sometimes...

#then i remind myself of my comminity on here... that helps #it's just so hard sometimes #self-harm tw #religious trauma tw #side b catholic #side b christian #side b lgbt #side b bisexual #catholicism #queer catholic #queer christian

[offender42085]

Post 1151

Paul Edward Bellar, Michigan inmate 735434, Federal inmate 02759-122, born 1998, incarceration intake December 2022 at age 25, earliest release date September 2029, full release September 2044

Gang Membersbip, Providing Material Support in a Terrorist Act, Use of a Weapon to Commit a Felony

In December 2023, a trio of men were sentenced to spend several years behind bars on charges stemming from a plot to kidnap Michigan Gov. Gretchen Whitmer.

Paul Bellar, along with Joseph Morrison (Michigan inmate 735421), Pete Musico (Michigan inmate 735428), were each sentenced to spend at least seven years in prison by Jackson County Circuit Judge Thomas Wilson in a lengthy sentencing hearing Thursday, Dec. 15.

Musico was the first man to be sentenced, with Wilson passing down a minimum prison term of 12 years.

Musico pleaded with Wilson to show him mercy before he was sentenced, claiming both he and his wife suffer from health issues that could possibly endanger them if he were to receive a harsh sentence.

“The time in my life that this all took place in, there was a lot of emotions going on throughout the entire country, on both political sides,” Musico said. “I had a lapse in judgement; I’ve been a good citizen, I’ve been a family man -- I’ve taken care of my family for a very long time.”

Wilson did not show sympathy in sentencing Musico, saying previous testimony depicting the defendant berating and threatening to kill a Michigan State Police trooper he encountered at a protest provided an insightful look into his thought process and character.

A woman sitting in the back of the crowded courtroom began to cry as soon as Wilson read Musico’s sentence. Musico himself cried as he was led out of the room in chains.

Morrison was sentenced second. Wilson sentenced the 28-year-old to spend at least 10 years in prison.

Speaking before the court, Morrison renounced his affiliation with the “boogaloo” -- the term used to identify a far-right, domestic terrorist movement centered on plans for a second American Civil War -- and all other similar extremist ideologies he once believed in.

“I sincerely regret ever allowing myself to have any affiliation with people that had those kind of ideas,” Morrison said. “I regret that I ever let hate, fear and anger into my heart the way I did.”

Before he was sentenced, Bellar apologized to Whitmer for his “highly inappropriate” past comments, claiming they don’t represent his true character. Bellar also addressed his family and friends that had filled the courtroom behind him, apologizing and thanking them for their support.

“I love all of you -- I’m so sorry, I wish I would have grown up faster,” Bellar said, his voice beginning to waver as he held back tears. “I’ll see you guys when this is all over.”

“You’re always welcome home,” a man in the audience said to Bellar as the defendant turned back around to face hear his sentence.

Bellar received the most lenient sentence of the three men. Wilson sentenced the 24-year-old to spend 7-20 years in prison. His sentences are to be served concurrently, while Musico and Morrison are to serve their sentences consecutively.

Bellar embraced his attorney Andrew Kirkpatrick after his sentence was delivered, with Bellar fighting back sobs as court officers began to take him away.

4f

#inmate

[sanasanakun]

I was reading your post about how Gortash is so polarizing in how people respond to him and while I don’t have an answer, I can weigh in on the side of thinking he’s attractive and not understanding some of the complaints people have. I try to see what it is that makes some people go ewwww no way but I don’t see what they do. For example a lot of people will say he looks dirty and I feel like I’m missing something completely. He looks unkempt but his hair looks shiny and clean and there’s no stains on his clothes. There’s scars and age marks and stubble on his skin, but I don’t read that as dirt (maybe I’m wrong)? His teeth aren’t perfectly white but thats the case for anyone who drinks coffee or tea so that doesn’t mean anything about hygiene. It also feels like people mistake his skin for just being dirty instead of not pasty white. Also when I see comments about “this guy must smell bad” and I immediately think of that journalist who made a remark about zendaya smelling like patchouli and weed because it feels like it’s coming from the same mindset and is sometimes word for word literally just that. This isn’t even touching on the fact that he’s got wrinkles and dark under eyes and signs of age and trauma that aren’t cute or superficial. I’m saying that the haters are all racist or ageist but I think there’s some biases at play and no one feels like they need to think about it too deeply because he’s an antagonist.

Yeah, I definitely agree with your takes here. I’m also someone who thinks he’s attractive and never really had a problem with his design. I don’t really care for the hair and think it’s a little goofy, but overall he’s very handsome (and the outfit is drippy af).

I will say that his model actually DOES have dirt on his face. Like those spots are the in game dirt feature (idk if that’s the right word). I’m not sure if that’s to have age spots or show that he’s a little disheveled, but yeah he is actually dirty in game lol but I’m with you in never thinking that he was dirty or smelled bad. But he doesn’t look like an archduke and I think that’s the point of his design; he’s a fraud and a tyrant (aka a bad leader).

And I definitely think a lot of the criticism for his design comes from racism and ageism. And I’ll preface this by saying that I’ve always read Gortash as being inspired by Turkish and Bulgarian people looks-wise. The constant insults of calling him disgusting or dirty make me side eye cause I do think it comes from his darker complexion and “unconventional” features that are more common in Türkiye and the Balkans.

Like I can only speak as a Bulgarian, but people in Western Europe treat us like shit. They call us dirty, untrustworthy, mafioso, ugly, etc. like Western Europeans fucking hate us. In America, it’s not as bad but we still have a negative image (in my experience. I’ve been told I’m poor and from a country that shouldn’t exist before). And I’m very white, so I can’t even imagine what it’s like for those with darker skin tones. So, I think people carry this bias against people that look like Gort and don’t think deeper about it when they say these things (or redesign him). I find it very hurtful tbh because I really loved seeing a character that looked like him. He’s very unique amongst the other character models.

And obvs, ageism is a huge problem that people also won’t confront with themselves. And all this combined with bad media literacy (imo) like they cannot get over the “young and handsome” part for some reason and it’s so annoying.

Anyway, I’m rambling and prob not making a lot of sense cause I’m tired lol but yes! I agree with you. Luckily, it seems like Gort has a pretty sizable fanbase and a lot of people love him! So, it’s not all bad. But I wish people would maybe think a bit longer about some of their opinions on him. Cause he’s a horrible person! But we don’t need to constantly call him dirty or disgusting or whatever. But that’s just where I stand on this whole thing.

#asks #anti Eastern European sentiments are very strong still so seeing that in the bg3 fandom hurts my feelings ngl #and I’m prob reading too much into it but feelings aren’t rational but yeah #bg3 #Gortash