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writingforstraykids · 3 days

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Always back to you - Chp.4

Pairing: Minho x m!Reader (mention of 3racha)

Word Count: 7000

Summary: Minho gets a call from his ex-wife, asking to meet Minjun. Hesitating, he agrees to the meeting but not without you by his side. You both find your way around each other as the boundaries between friendship and love dissolve more and more...

Warnings/Tags: fluff, single dad!min, angst, domestic shit, emotional hurt!comfort, panic attack,

A/N: Thank you for all the love for the story and little Minjun so far. I hope you enjoy this chapter, some of you have been waiting for what happens here hehe🖤

PART THREE | PART FIVE (coming soon)

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

The steady rhythmic sound of a knife chopping vegetables abruptly halts as the sharp, insistent ring of Minho’s phone pierces through the quiet kitchen atmosphere. Minho's hand stills, a sense of dread creeping up his spine as he stares at the caller ID. What?

Minho glances out of the window quickly, seeing you and Minjun still playing peacefully outside. His eyes wander back to his phone and it takes everything in him to take it into his hand, his thumb hovering over the screen. He takes a deep breath before picking up the phone. "Hello?"

"Minho, it's Yejun," comes the voice on the other end, unmistakable and unexpectedly calm. The sound of his ex-wife's voice, not heard in conversations for years, is enough to make his heart skip a beat.

"Hi, Yejun...What's up?" Minho manages to keep his voice steady, though his grip on the phone tightens.

"I’ve been thinking. It’s been a long time, and I want to meet Minjun. I want to see our son," she says.

Minho feels as if the floor dropped from beneath him. The request comes as a shock, reopening a chapter of his life he thought had been firmly closed. He leans heavily against the kitchen counter, trying to gather his thoughts. "I...that’s quite sudden. I’m not sure that’s a good idea," he replies, the discomfort clear in his voice.

"I know it’s sudden, Minho. I just want to be a part of his life," she says.

“Mhm,” he hums sourly, feeling nothing but defensiveness bubbling up in him.

“What’s that supposed to mean, huh?” she asks sharply and Minho closes his eyes, swallowing down the memories that flood his brain at that tone.

“Means I wonder what makes you think you can leave and then come back once he’s old enough to do a lot on his own,” he says, chewing on his lower lip.

“It’s my right to see him, Min,” she says.

“Don’t,” Minho says firmly. “Don’t even start claiming it’s your right to meet him. You left him once he was old enough to drink from the bottle. You have absolutely no right to demand anything.”

“Gosh, Min, still so emotional, hm?” she groans and Minho puts his phone on speaker, slamming it down on the table and mocking her quietly. Her laugh rings in his ears as she starts talking again. “I want to meet him. If he doesn’t like me, I’ll go.”

“Gosh, Yejun, still taking the easy way out, hm?” he gives back dryly, bracing himself at the table. “Why now?”

“As you said, he’s easy to handle now. I’m curious,” she says.

“Curious…If you meet him, I’m there every damn second, you hear me?” he asks, and she agrees reluctantly. “If you hurt my son in any way, I’m taking him home, and that’s the last you saw of him.”

“Relax,” she snorts. “I’ll be in Seoul next week from Monday until Friday. Let’s meet up then.”

Minho agrees hesitantly, ending the call with a heavy sigh. As soon as he puts the phone down, a wave of nausea sweeps over him, his hand flying to his stomach as if to quell the rising sickness. Pacing the kitchen, he feels his mind race with worries about the past getting back at him, about the potential destruction of Minjun’s more or less stable but happy life.

You get back inside to refill Minjun’s water bottle as he quickly uses the bathroom in the meantime. You find Minho in the kitchen, his face pale, bracing himself on the table. "Minho? What’s wrong? You look sick," you ask worriedly. “You’re feeling dizzy again?”

Hearing your voice seems to ground him momentarily. He looks up at you with a mixture of fear and uncertainty. "That was Yejun," he manages to say, his voice a whisper of distress. "She wants to meet Minjun. She says she wants to be part of his life."

Your expression shifts from concern to shock. You’ve heard of her, of course, the woman who had left Minho to raise Minjun alone and caused much of his earlier heartache when you met him. "Oh, Minho," you murmur, stepping next to him. “What are you going to do?"

"I don’t know," Minho admits, his voice shaky. "Part of me thinks maybe it’s good if Minjun knows his mother. But another part...I can’t bear the thought. What if she leaves again? What if she hurts him? I can’t let Minjun go through that."

You nod, understanding his inner conflict. "This is tough, but whatever decision you make, I’m here. You’re not alone in this, Minho."

Minho looks into your eyes, finding peace in your unwavering support. Taking a deep breath, he tries to calm his racing heart. "Can you... Can you just hold me for a minute?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. He doesn’t know why he’s suddenly asking for that, but somehow, it feels right.

Without hesitation, you wrap your arms around him, pulling him close. Minho buries his face in your shoulder, allowing himself to feel vulnerable, to accept the comfort being offered. As they stand there, Minho feels a tiny fragment of his anxiety ebb away, the warmth and steadiness of your embrace lending him strength.

After a long moment, Minho steps back slightly. "Thank you, Y/nnie. For being here," he says, his voice thick with gratitude.

"Always," you reply, squeezing his hand.

Minho feels a little steadier, bolstered by your support. "Would you...come with me to meet her? I think I might need someone there, just in case. I uh…I don’t know how it’ll be seeing her again and everything."

"Of course, Minho. I'll be there," you reply gently.

The day of the meeting arrives with a tense air. Minho is quiet as you both drive to the cafe where the meeting with Yejun is scheduled. Every now and then, he glances at Minjun in the rearview mirror, who is blissfully unaware of the gravity of the situation, chatting excitedly about the new game you had taught him. He seemed excited to meet his mother, which was the only reason Minho decided to let them.

As you arrive and find Yejun already there, a chill runs down Minho’s spine. She looks different, yet somehow the same, and his stomach tightens as he watches her wave them over with a bright, practiced smile. Minjun gently tugs at his jeans, as always when meeting new people. He’s glad to have something to hold onto as he picks him up and soothingly pats his back.

You stay close to them, looking at Yejun curiously. You had never felt the need to look up old pictures of Minho and her, so you had no idea what she looked like…and looking at her makes you realize she’s stunningly beautiful. Her dark, long curls frame her perfect face, skin smooth and accentuating her bright eyes. A red dress hugs her body in all the right places, and she looks delicate but elegant. God, no wonder Minho had a hard time getting over that. Getting closer, you realize Minjun must’ve inherited the freckles covering her nose, as well as the curly texture of his hair.

"Minho, it's been too long," Yejun greets, standing to embrace him swiftly. She presses a short kiss onto his cheek that has Minho tensing up, eyes widening. Ah, lovely.

"Yejun," he nods, taking a few steps back, then turns to you. "This is Y/nnie."

"Nice to meet you," you say, offering a polite smile, though you feel the undercurrents of tension.

“And that’s..?” she asks, glancing at Minjun.

“Oh for fucks sake,” Minho mutters quietly making Minjun giggle and cover his mouth with his little hand.

“Bad word, Daddy!” he protests, making you smirk.

“That’s some kid I stole on the way here,” Minho rolls his eyes at her. “That’s Minjun…obviously.”

“Oh…you’ve gotten big,” she nods, looking at Minjun curiously.

“Well he was six months old when you left, go figure,” Minho says patiently, with a fake calm smile on his face. “Minjunnie, say hi to your mother.”

Minjun frowns at her softly before looking up at Minho. “Daddy? Mum who ran away?” he asks and you have trouble biting back a laugh at her perplexed face.

“Mhm, that one,” Minho nods, pulling himself out a chair. “She wants to talk to you, so be nice, buddy.”

“Okay,” he nods, getting comfortable in his own chair, blinking at her curiously.

The conversation starts with trivialities, Yejun asking about Minjun's interests. But soon, she shifts the topic to her life in the US, describing her home, the parks, and the schools that she says would be wonderful for Minjun once he’s old enough.

Minjun listens, wide-eyed, clearly taken with the idea of such places. "Can I see them, Daddy? Can I visit her in America?" he asks, looking excitedly between Minho and Yejun.

Minho feels a pang in his heart at the words, his fear creeping back as he watches his son’s enthusiasm. He tries to keep his voice even. "We'll see, buddy. We're just talking right now."

Yejun leans forward, her tone persuasive. "I have a great life there, Minjun. You could have your own room, a big yard to play in... I'd love to show you around."

Minho feels sick watching the scene unfold, his hands clenched under the table. You notice his discomfort and place a reassuring hand on his knee. As the meeting draws to an end, Minho is quiet, lost in thought as Yejun makes plans to visit Minjun again. "Let’s take it slow, one step at a time," Minho finally says, not committing to anything more.

On the drive back, Minjun chats happily about the things his mother had told him, while Minho remains silent, his expression drawn.

Once home, Minho retreats to the kitchen, his movements sluggish, each step seeming to weigh heavily on him. You watch as he leans against the counter, his face pale and his eyes distant. Concerned, you approach him, your hand gently touching his arm. "Minho?" you call softly, trying to get his attention.

He looks up, his eyes meeting yours, and there's an unspoken plea for comfort. The day had drained him, dredging up past pains and uncertainties about the future. "I just... I don't know if I did the right thing today," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "What if she convinces him? What if he wants to go with her?"

You understand the turmoil he's in. The possibility of Minjun wanting to leave with Yejun is his worst nightmare coming true. Stepping closer, you wrap your arms around him, offering him a silent reassurance. "Minho, you're an incredible father. Minjun knows that. Whatever Yejun says or does, it won't change the bond you two have."

Minho rests his forehead against your shoulder, his breath shaky. "I hope you're right," he murmurs. "It's just hard not to feel threatened, to feel like everything we have could be disrupted by her return."

"It's understandable to feel that way," you reply, holding him tighter. "But remember, Minjun loves you. He's grown up with you. That connection, those memories, they're not easily broken or forgotten. You're his dad, the one who's been there for him every single day."

As you speak, Minho's tension begins to ease. He pulls back slightly, looking into your eyes, searching for the certainty he so desperately needs. Seeing the sincerity in your gaze, a small smile begins to form on his lips. "Thank you, Y/nnie," he says. "For being here, for supporting me through this."

"Always," you reply, smiling back.

The kitchen is quiet for a moment, the only sound being the soft ticking of the clock on the wall. Minho seems to ponder your words, letting them sink in. Gradually, the anxious lines on his face smooth out, replaced by a more resolute expression. "I won't let her take him away," he states, more to himself than to you. "I'll do whatever it takes to keep Minjun with me."

"And I'll help you," you assure him.

As the evening sets in, you and Minho prepare dinner together, the earlier tension melting away into a comfortable routine. Minjun joins you, chatting excitedly about his day, blissfully unaware of the complex emotions his father has been grappling with. Watching Minho laugh and interact with his son, you feel a profound sense of admiration and love for him.

Later, as you sit down to eat, the atmosphere is light, filled with Minjun’s laughter and stories. Minho looks over at you, a silent gratitude in his gaze. Despite the challenges, he knows he isn't alone. With you by his side, he feels ready to handle whatever may come.

That night, after Minjun has gone to bed, you and Minho find yourselves on the couch, a comfortable silence enveloping you. Minho leans his head on your shoulder, his earlier fears now calmed by your presence and the peaceful end to the day.

"Today was hard," he admits quietly.

"It was," you agree. "But you got through it. And you’ll get through whatever else comes your way."

Minho stands silently in the middle of the living room, the soft hum of the evening settling around him. The faint laughter and shouts of children playing outside drifts through the open window, a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing inside him. His hands tremble slightly as he turns over a small toy that Minjun had left on the couch—a constant reminder of his responsibilities, his fears, and his deep-seated insecurities about being a father. Minjun is staying with Felix and Chan for a few hours and you'll visit to work through a few important aspects of his schedule.

The weight of his thoughts and the relentless pressure he placed on himself were reaching a boiling point. The room feels smaller, the walls closing in as each of Minjun’s innocent questions from earlier that day echoed in his head, “Are you happy, Daddy? Does Yejun like me? Can I go to America?” The questions are simple, filled with the childlike curiosity of his young son, yet to Minho, they are a reflection of his deepest fears—is he truly enough?

The anxiety that had been simmering throughout the day suddenly surges, a tidal wave crashing over him with suffocating force. His breathing becomes shallow, each inhale sharp and unsatisfying. His heart races uncontrollably, pounding against his ribs as if trying to escape. The room spins, and a nauseous feeling tightens in his gut. He's having a panic attack, the intense fear of failing his son overwhelming him completely.

Just then, you walk in. You stop in track at the sight of Minho, his face pale, his body tense and trembling. Dropping your bag, you rush over. “Minho! What’s happening?” Your voice is laced with concern as you reach out to steady him, your hands gripping his arms.

“I...I can’t breathe properly,” Minho gasps out, his voice shaky. “I feel like I’m not enough for him...like I’m going to fail him.”

You quickly lead him to the sofa, helping him to sit down. “Look at me, Minho. Follow my breathing, okay? In and out, slowly,” you instruct him gently, demonstrating deep, steady breaths.

Minho tries to mimic your breathing, focusing on the rise and fall of your chest. Gradually, his own breaths begin to deepen, the tight grip of fear around his chest loosening slightly with each exhale. You don't let go, your presence a calming force in the storm of his panic.

After a few minutes, as the initial wave of panic begins to subside, Minho feels exhaustion seep into his bones, replacing the adrenaline that had surged through him just moments before. He leans back against the sofa, his eyes closing briefly in fatigue.

“You’re doing great, Minho. Just keep breathing like that,” you murmur, your voice a soothing balm. “You are enough for Minjun, more than enough. You’re an incredible father.”

Tears prick at Minho’s eyes as he listens to your affirmations. “I’m scared,” he admits, his voice a broken whisper. “What if it’s not true? What if I’m not what he needs?”

You shift closer, your side pressing against his, a silent offer of solidarity. “Minho, look at everything you’ve done for him. He adores you. Your fear doesn’t define your reality. You are exactly what Minjun needs because you love him, and you show up every day for him, even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.”

The sincerity in your words, the warmth of your body next to his, it all pierces through the fog of Minho’s anxiety, reaching a part of him that he kept walled off from everyone else. He turns to look at you, really look, seeing not just a friend but someone who has come to mean so much more to him.

Without thinking, driven by the emotions swirling within him and the need to be closer to the one person who seemed to understand him completely, Minho leans in. You hesitate, leaning in a little before you both stop for me a moment. Then you meet halfway, your lips touching in a kiss that is soft and hesitant at first but quickly deepened with shared urgency and emotion. But as seconds pass, the kiss deepens, driven by a mixture of long-suppressed desires and the comforting familiarity that has grown between you over countless shared moments.

All that matters is the here and now—the warmth of your lips against his, the gentle exploration that grows bolder with each passing moment. Your hands move to cup Minho’s face, your touch tender yet assured, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss until it is all-consuming.

Minho’s hands find their way around you, pulling you in, his heart pounding against his chest. The kiss grows more desperate, a silent confession of the feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long. Your breaths mingle, quick and shaky, as the kiss ignites a fire within you both, a blaze that seems to fill the voids you had both carried inside.

But as the intensity of your embrace grows, so does a creeping fear in the back of Minho’s mind. His heart, scarred from past hurts and losses, begins to recoil at the vulnerability he is exposing himself to. The memory of his past, of being left alone when he had dared to love openly, surges forward, casting a shadow over the warmth he feels.

Your hands trace the line of Minho's jaw, gentle yet insistent, pulling him closer. Minho responds in kind, his hands finding the small of your back, pressing you together. The kiss grows more fervent, more desperate, as if you're trying to communicate every unspoken word, every suppressed emotion through this single act.

As your breath quickens, Minho’s emotions swirl chaotically—a blend of exhilaration and deep-seated fear. The intensity of your connection right here is something he hasn't allowed himself to fully experience for a long time, not since his heart had been guarded against such vulnerabilities.

Suddenly, the weight of his past, the memories of abandonment, and the fear of experiencing such profound loss again surge to the forefront of his mind. It is overwhelming the way these fears claw their way up, threatening to overshadow the warmth and safety he had just been reveling in.

With a sudden intake of breath, Minho’s hands still, and he pulls back slightly, breaking the kiss. His heart is racing, not just with the passion of the moment but also with a creeping dread that he might be setting himself up for another heartbreak. His chest heaves as he tries to steady his breathing, his eyes wide and vulnerable as he meets your concerned gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice choked with a mixture of fear and regret. “I... I need a moment.”

Your face is a mixture of worry and understanding. You reach out, brushing a trembling hand against Minho’s cheek. “It’s okay, Minho. We don’t have to rush anything. I’m here, okay?”

Minho nods, feeling a lump form in his throat. He is terrified, not of the kiss or the connection but of what it signifies. To let someone in so completely was to risk being torn apart again. And yet, as he looks into your eyes, he sees a reflection of something pure and steady—a commitment not just to the joy of their relationship but to the struggles, too.

Minho takes a deep breath, each inhale laced with the scent of your skin, a reminder of the now. “I just... I’m scared of losing myself, of losing Minjun, of being left alone again if this... if we don’t work out,” he confesses, his voice barely a whisper amidst the quiet of the room.

Your expression softens, your eyes filling with empathy. “Minho, love doesn’t come with guarantees, but not giving ourselves the chance to experience it fully is a guarantee of regret. I don’t know what the future holds, but I promise to be by your side through the highs and the lows. You’re not alone anymore, and you won’t be.”

These words, gentle and reassuring, seem to stitch up the raw edges of Minho’s fears slowly. He allows himself to lean into you, feeling the solidity of your presence. “Thank you,” he murmurs, allowing himself to feel the full extent of his vulnerability.

“Thank you for not running,” you say, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. The tension begins to dissipate, replaced by a cautious hope.

“Thank you for staying,” Minho shakes his head gently.

You smile, your hand squeezing Minho’s. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” you assure him. You lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to Minho’s forehead, a simple gesture that holds a depth of meaning.

Minho allows himself to be held, his head resting against your shoulder, feeling the steady beat of your heart against his cheek. It is comforting, grounding. Slowly, his breathing evens out, the immediate panic subsiding under the gentle rhythm of your assurances.

“You mean a lot to me, Y/nnie,” Minho confesses, pulling back slightly to look at you. “I don’t want to lose you, not because of my fears.”

You smile, your hands sliding down to grasp his. “And you won’t lose me. I care about you, Minho. We’ll face this together, okay? Step by step.”

“Okay,” Minho agrees, squeezing your hands. “Step by step.”

The moment is tender, a delicate truce between Minho’s fears and the possibilities that lie ahead. You stay like that for a while, simply holding each other, finding comfort in the presence of one another.

When it is time for you to leave, Minho finds himself not wanting to let go. The goodbye is lingering, filled with the promise of soon and more. You leave him with a smile, and Minho watches from the doorway, feeling a mixture of contentment and longing.

That night, as Minho lies in bed, Minjun peacefully asleep next to him, he thinks about the kiss - the way it had made him feel alive, the way it had scared him. He touches his lips, still feeling the ghost of your touch. The fear is still there, a quiet whisper in the back of his mind, but it is slowly being overshadowed by a stronger, more insistent feeling: hope.

He knows the road ahead will be fraught with challenges, but for the first time in a long while, Minho feels ready to face them. With you by his side, he isn't just facing the future; he is stepping into it, one kiss, one conversation, one promise at a time.

Minho nervously ties Minjun’s shoelaces, hoping his attentive little boy can’t see the anxiety written all over his face. He gently takes Minjun’s small hands into his and searches his eyes. “Minjunnie?” he asks softly.

“What, Daddy?” his son asks curiously.

“Daddy loves you a lot, okay?” he asks, and Minjun nods contently. “I’m sorry I can’t always be there, I’ll try to get better.”

“It’s okay,” he says, gently patting his father’s head.

Minho giggles at him and pulls him into his lap. “I will always love you, okay? No matter what happens.”

“Always?” he asks softly, and Minho nods firmly. “Always come back?”

Minho cups his face, smiling at him encouragingly. “I’ll always come back to you, buddy.”

“Good,” he smiles brightly. “Yejun now?” he asks, and Minho nods.

“Yeah,” he says, almost feeling a little ashamed for being so relieved about Minjun not calling her his mother.

You open the door, glancing inside. “You two are ready to go?” you ask. “I’ll drop you off at the café, make sure everything’s in place at the location for the shoot, and then come back. I won’t be gone longer than ten minutes, it’s on the other side of the road.”

“Sounds good,” Minho nods, subconsciously chewing on his lower lip. He pushes himself back up and meeting your eyes, you can tell he needs a hug.

“Come here,” you say gently, opening your arms for him. Minho laughs weakly and hugs you tightly, fingers gripping the fabric of your shirt. “It’ll be okay,” you tell him, earning a timid hum in return.

“Daddy?” Minjun frowns up at you two worriedly.

Minho leaves your warm embrace, picking him up. “I’m okay,” he assures him, his one hand finding yours. Your fingers intertwine almost naturally, and you can feel his hand tremble in yours a little.

“Liar,” Minjun says softly, not even sounding like he’s judging him for it.

Minho chuckles weakly and searches your eyes. “Minjunnie? You really like Y/nnie, right?” he asks, watching you with a gentle smile.

“No,” he shakes his head, making your heart sink for a moment. “I love Y/nnie, Daddy.”

You both laugh softly, and you gently poke his cheek. “I love you too, Minjunnie…and I care a lot about your Daddy too.”

“I…I love Y/nnie too,” Minho says quietly, and your world stops turning for a few seconds.

“What?” you ask just as quietly, swallowing hard as tears brim Minho’s soft chocolate eyes.

“I love you, Y/nnie,” he tells you again, a little less shaky this time. “I do,” he says as if he has to reassure you both he put it into words.

“I love you too, Minho,” you whisper happily, your heart warming. Minho squeezes your hand, searching your eyes timidly. You don’t think much, closing the distance between you two and kissing him softly. Minho sighs quietly, feeling at ease here in the moment of kissing you.

Minjun squeals making you break apart again. “Eww, but yay,” he says with wide eyes, making you giggle.

“Okay, let's go,” you laugh and gently shove Minho out of the room.

You drive them to the café and Minho shares another quick kiss with you before getting out. You quickly cross the street to check the set, hoping it won't take long.

The tension in the air is thick as Yejun sits across from Minho at a small, brightly lit café in the heart of Seoul. The noise of the bustling city outside does little to fill the silence that hangs between them. Minho watches her observantly as she tries to talk to Minjun, who’s busy coloring in the book she gifted him earlier.

"Minjun, you would love it in America," Yejun begins, her voice infused with excitement. "We have huge parks, and there are so many fun things you can do. There's Disneyland, with all the rides and characters you love."

Minjun's eyes light up at the mention of Disneyland, but his smile falters as he glances sideways at Minho, who sits silently, his expression unreadable. "Can Daddy come with us?" Minjun asks innocently, his voice tinged with hope.

Yejun’s smile tightens slightly. "No, it would just be you and me. But think of all the adventures we’ll have!"

Minjun’s face falls. "But I want Daddy...and Y/nnie," he ads, his small voice growing firmer. "I want them."

Yejun’s patience began to crumble. "Minjun, I’m your mother. I have a wonderful life set up for us in America. You need to think about what I’m offering you."

Minho, who has been quietly observing the exchange, sees the confusion and distress growing on Minjun’s face. "Yejun, that's enough," he interjects calmly. "You’re overwhelming him. He’s only a child."

Yejun turns her gaze to Minho, her eyes flashing with irritation. "You have no right to keep him from me, Minho! You’ve turned him against me, huh? You stole my son!"

The accusation stings, and Minho’s voice grows stern. "Yejun, I haven’t stolen anyone. I’ve been here for Minjun every single day since he was born. He’s my son too, and I have been his only parent for years."

“Well, I’m his mother and-”

Tears well up in Minjun's eyes as the tension rises. He can tell his father is upset and trying not to show it, he may be young but he knows him well. The woman opposite him glares at him and he doesn’t like that at all. "You're not my mum, Y/nnie is!" he cries out, the emotional toll of the conversation beginning to show. "Y/nnie plays with me. Y/nnie makes me food. Y/nnie cuddles me!"

Yejun blinks, her face contorted with a mix of shock and disgust. "Y/nnie? That babysitter? You think he's a better mother than me?”

“Yes,” he says stubbornly, staring down at his coloring book again.

“Minho, what the fuck have you done with this child?” she asks frustratedly.

Minho reaches out, taking Minjun’s hand in his, providing a comforting touch. "Y/nnie has been here for him. What Minjun is trying to say is that family isn’t just about blood; it’s about who cares for you, who’s there for you."

Yejun’s anger flares, and she stands abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. "He is my son, and you’ve turned him into this...this weak, dependent child clinging to a man who has no business raising him!"

Minjun’s tears spill over, and he buries his face in Minho’s side, sobbing. Minho wraps his arms around his son protectively. "He is not weak. He’s a child, Yejun. And you’re upsetting him."

“I can’t believe you’re letting his babysitter take my role!” she protests loudly.

“That babysitter is my boyfriend,” Minho says firmly. Technically, the two of you aren't there yet but he couldn't care less right now. “So you better watch your mouth now.”

“Really? Dating a man?” she scoffs. “Did I break your heart so much you’re too scared to face another woman?” she spits out.

“What?” Minho almost chokes on his breath.

“You’re stupid,” Minjun states, pouting at her through tears. He doesn’t like how she’s talking about the two most important people in his life. “Daddy loves Y/nnie. Not you.”

“You’re coming with me now, if you like it or not!” she says firmly, reaching out for him.

"Don’t touch him," you snap, your voice icy as you move to block her path. "You need to leave, Yejun. You’re only causing him distress." You can’t believe what you got back to here.

Yejun stares at you, her anger boiling over. "He’s my son, not yours! You have no right—"

"He's not your son!" Minho interrupts firmly, standing up to face her, his voice echoing in the small space. "Not if you can’t see the damage you’re doing right now. Minjun has made his choice!"

“Not my mummy,” Minjun agrees. Still clinging to Minho, he peeks out and yells in his small, fierce voice, "Go away! I don’t want you! I want Daddy and Y/nnie!"

The raw honesty in Minjun’s voice seems to hit Yejun hard. For a moment, her resolve wavers, her features softening as she looks at her son. But the bitterness and resentment are too deep, her expression hardening once again.

“You’re disgusting,” she says toward Minho who stares at her quietly. “One day, he’ll leave you just like he left me,” she tells Minjun, who whimpers, clinging to him.

“You’re such a bitch,” you tell her and stare her down until she storms off. “You forgot your stuff!” you call out for her and she spins around, stomping back to get it.

“Fuck you.” With that, she turns sharply and storms out of the café, leaving behind a heavy silence.

Minho kneels down, wiping the tears from Minjun’s cheeks. "It’s okay, buddy. She’s gone now. You’re safe," he murmurs, his voice soothing.

Minjun sniffles, nodding as he leans into Minho’s embrace. "Stay with me, Daddy. Stay with Y/nnie."

"We will, Minjun. We’re not going anywhere," Minho reassures him. “Always back to you, remember my sweet boy?”

“Yes, Daddy,” he nods bravely.

Back at the company Minho walks straight to Chan's studio, telling you to go and get some snacks with Minjun first. He closes the door behind himself and starts cursing as soon as it clicks shut. “I swear that woman is insane! I don't know what the fuck I saw in her but it's gone!”

Chan slowly pulls off his headphones and Jisung clicks his pen, blinking at Minho worriedly. “Mate, what happened?” Chan asks gently.

“Yejun happened!” Minho snaps. “She just tried to pull Minjun away from me so he'd go with her! She called him a weak, clingy child for wanting to stay with me!”

“Okay, take a deep breath,” Chan says soothingly.

“I don't feel like taking a deep breath right now,” he says fuming with anger.

Changbin picks up a pillow and throws it at him. “Scream into that for a moment. Let it all out. You haven't told us much but I suspect Minjun needs his father to be calm now.” Minho blinks at them stunned before doing as they say, his scream getting muffled by the pillow. “Better?”

“A little,” he nods, making them all laugh. Minho flops down onto the sofa between Changbin and Jisung, huffing softly. Then he tells them about everything that happened, all of them growing quiet, exchanging shocked glances.

“Not to be that type of person but..I never liked her,” Jisung snorts and Minho hums agreeingly.

“I know…but I wouldn't want to miss the time I had with her. I'd miss my little boy,” he sighs and rubs his face.

“If she starts causing trouble you let me know, alright?” Chan asks. “Everyone of us can tell whoever needs to know that you've always been there for him and raised him well so far.”

“Thanks, hyung,” he smiles gently, looking up as the door opens and you and Minjun enter the room. Minjun runs up to everyone handing them their favorite snack and smiles proudly at the many encouragement he gets. Minho scoots over and pats the space next to himself, gently tapping your hand to make you sit.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” you ask and Minho nods, getting up quickly.

As soon as you leave the room Minjun climbs into Chan's lap and nibbles on his chocolate. “Exciting day?” Chan asks gently.

“No. Yejun’s a bitch,” he announces dryly. Chan bites back a laugh and Jisung nods proudly.

“Woah, that's a strong word,” Changbin laughs. “Did your daddy teach you that?”

“No, Y/nnie,” he tells them.

“You like staying with your daddy more, right?” Chan asks amused.

“And Y/nnie,” he nods happily. “Y/nnie and Daddy.”

“Yeah? Y/nnie stays with you a lot,” Jisung agrees.

“Daddy loves Y/nnie.”

“Loves?” he asks curiously.

Minjun nods and leans up to Chan, kissing his cheek. “They did that.”

Chan giggles, exchanging a glance with his friends. “They kissed?” he asks curiously.

“Mhm,” he nods and continues munching his chocolate. “But not there,” he says, pointing at Chan's cheek.

“No?” Chan asks stunned.

“No. Like uncle Lix and you,” he announces making the whole room go silent.

“You mean here?” Chan asks, pointing at his lips.

“Yes,” Minjun nods. “Y/nnie is my new mum.”

“That's so cute,” Jisung whispers, smiling at him adoringly.

The door opens and you two are back from your short talk about everything that happened. You sense something's off, judging by the way the three are glancing from Minho to you and back again. “Minjunnie, are you ready to go home?” you ask him. “Daddy has to work but he'll come later.”

“Work?” Minjun asks heartbreakingly timid.

“I'm sorry, baby,” Minho tries, swallowing hard as Minjun climbs off Chan's lap and walks over to him, his small face scrunching up. Minho scoops him up, hugging him tightly. "I'll be back before you know it, okay? And Y/nnie will be with you," he reassures, glancing over at you with a grateful smile.

Minjun seems somewhat calmed by this, nestling his head against Minho's shoulder. "Promise?" he mumbles, his voice muffled.

"I promise, buddy," Minho affirms, pressing a kiss to his son's hair.

You can't help but feel a pang of warmth at the scene, your heart swelling at the depth of their bond. As you prepare to leave with Minjun, Minho sets him down, adjusting his little backpack and smoothing down his hair.

"Be good for Y/nnie, okay?" Minho instructs, kneeling to be eye level with Minjun.

"I will," Minjun nods solemnly, then looks up at you with those big, trusting eyes. "Let's go, Y/nnie."

As you lead Minjun out of the studio, his hand in yours, you glance back to see Minho watching you both, a mix of love and a tinge of sorrow in his eyes. It's clear how torn he feels, the duties of his work pulling him away from moments he cherishes with his son.

Back at Minho’s house, the evening unfolds with a quiet kind of normalcy. Minjun plays with his toys in the living room, occasionally chatting about things he remembers from the day or asking questions about what tomorrow might bring. You keep your answers light and reassuring, mindful of the emotional turmoil he’s endured.

Later, while Minjun is absorbed in a cartoon, you step into the kitchen to prepare a simple dinner, your thoughts wandering back to Minho. The way he had leaned into your kiss, the vulnerability he showed—it all painted a picture of a man deeply in love but equally scared of the implications. Your heart aches for him, wishing there was more you could do to ease his fears.

As you set the table, Minjun comes running into the kitchen, his earlier worries seemingly forgotten in the wake of his current excitement about the cartoon.

"Y/nnie, did you see? The superhero saved everyone!" he exclaims, his eyes sparkling.

"I saw that, buddy. It was pretty cool, wasn’t it?" you smile, lifting him onto a chair.

"Yeah! I wanna be like that," Minjun declares, his chest puffing out proudly.

"I think you're already a hero, Minjun. You know that?" you say, ruffling his hair.

He giggles, beaming up at you. "Really?"

"Really," you affirm, serving him his dinner.

Dinner passes with playful chatter, and soon it's time for Minjun's bedtime. As you tuck him into bed, he hugs his beloved bunny.

"Daddy comes home soon?" Minjun’s voice is small, tinged with the weight of his earlier tears.

"He promised, didn’t he? And your daddy always keeps his promises," you reassure him, smoothing down the blanket. “Did you know your daddy's animal of the group is a bunny?”

Minjun nods proudly. “Yes.”

“There are plushies of his bunny, just like yours here. Would you like one?” you ask gently and Minjun nods with wide eyes. “Then you can cuddle it if he's not here.”

Minjun nods contently, curling up with the plushie. "Night, Y/nnie."

"Goodnight, Minjun. Sweet dreams," you whisper, turning off the light and leaving the door slightly ajar.

Once Minjun is asleep, you sink onto the couch, the quiet of the house settling around you. You're startled by the sound of the front door opening—Minho is home.

He looks exhausted, the lines of his face deeper, his eyes shadowed. But when he sees you, a smile, tired yet genuine, crosses his lips.

"Hey," he greets softly, dropping his keys into the bowl by the door.

"Hey," you reply, standing to meet him. "Rough day?"

"You could say that," Minho sighs, pulling you into a hug. It's a long, tight embrace, one that speaks volumes.

As you pull back, you hold his gaze. "Talk to me," you encourage.3

Minho shakes his head slightly, a weary chuckle escaping him. "Just the usual chaos. But coming back to this—coming back to you—it helps more than you might think."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the simplicity of his statement underscoring the depth of your growing bond. "I'm glad," you murmur, your hands resting on his arms.

"We didn't get much time earlier... to talk about... us," Minho hesitates, searching your face for signs of what you might be feeling.

"No, we didn’t," you agree, feeling the momentous weight of the conversation that looms between you. "But we’re here now. We can talk."

Minho nods, taking a deep breath. "I meant what I said earlier, before everything with Yejun. I love you, Y/nnie. I know it’s complicated, and I know my life is... a lot. But I want you in it, in every way."

The earnestness in his voice, the open vulnerability—he’s offering you his heart, and it’s yours to take. You smile, your decision clear. "I love you too, Minho. And I’m in this. All of it, with you," you say.

The relief that washes over Minho's face is evident. He pulls you close again, his lips finding yours in a kiss that seals the promise of a future together, come what may. In that moment, wrapped up in each other, the challenges that lie ahead seem manageable. With love as your anchor, you both feel ready to face whatever comes next, together.

PART THREE | PART FIVE (coming soon)

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist (Please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist):

@atinyniki @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @aaa-sia @lilmisssona @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @rebecca-johnson-28 @lixie-phoria @kibs-and-bits @xxstrayland @ihrtlix @pheonixfire777 @mellhwang @palindrome969 @michelle4eve @harshaaaaa @rylea08 @heeyboooo @manuosorioh @gisaerlleri @andassortedkpop @lailac13 @bbokari711 @kazuuuaaa @rssamj @wolfyychan @stellasays45 @chrizzztopherbang @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @silentreadersthings @myforevermelody143 @sapphirewaves @lost-in-avoidance @moonchild9350 @spicxbnny @queer-possum @james-is-here @roriiror @minholover1 @cb97s-laptop @iknowyouknowminho @iatethem @constrellar

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imyourbratzdoll · 1 day

Text

𝒊 𝒈𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆…

part 4 of 🌧️welcome to hell🌧️

summary - you finally made your decision.

warning - angst, swearing, mentions of cheating, attempt at gaslighting, betrayal, disappointment.

the gif I use isn't mine, headers by me.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 5

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

You had woken up the next day, and you just laid there. You couldn’t move, your entire being ached, you were exhausted both physically, emotionally, and mentally. You had never felt this exhausted in your whole life, you never felt this broken and stuck.

You knew you had to choose. The weight on your shoulders was bringing you down and you didn’t know if you could go on any longer without making a choice, a decision that could change your life forever.

You could either pretend and live on in an obvious one–sided marriage while your husband continues to sleep around with your EX–best friend and any other woman he has on the side OR you could confront him and leave, making him sign the divorce papers that you would have to get a lawyer for the moment you left. But it would mean you would have to start all over again.

You flip onto your back and stare up at the ceiling, the memories from last night flash through your mind again, your husband and ex–best friend fucking each other in the bathroom, them fucking while you “slept”. You don’t think you could do this again nor could you pretend that everything was okay. You could hear them from the lounge room, their voices the only thing filling the quiet home. They sounded happy as they bantered and teased each other.

You slowly slide to the edge of the bed and sit up. Your eyes connect in the mirror, and you finally look at yourself. You didn’t recognise the woman staring back at you, she seemed so lifeless, so broken. Where had the old you gone? Was she still there? You could see the sadness and rage swirling beneath your eyes, followed by bags and dried tears underneath.

You were so sick of crying. When did you become so weak over a man?

Everything seemed to click when those beautiful blue eyes appeared in your mind. You could finally feel yourself think more clearly, you finally knew your decision. You weren’t making your decision because of those eyes, but they seemed to help clarify what you wanted. You could feel your soul tugging as the unknown man appeared in your thoughts.

With one last look at yourself and a deep breath later, you turned. Ready.

And finally, you chose yourself.

“You got this.” You say and you will forever say it even with tears in your eyes. You move swiftly around the room, grabbing a suitcase from your cupboard and laying it down on the bed. You begin to pack, folding your clothes neatly before you place them in. You move onto shoes, accessories, makeup, perfume, and anything else that was yours. Once you zipped up your suitcase, you looked around the room. Your eyes caught in the mirror, and you finally felt freer.

You grabbed your suitcase and spare outfit and left the bedroom. Resting the suitcase against the front door, you head into the spare bathroom as your other had been tainted with your husband’s infidelity and your ex–best friend’s betrayal.

You had taken your time in the shower, washing the pain and sadness from your body. You even took your time making yourself look good, wanting him to regret his choices the moment you left him. With a final look in the mirror, you head out of the bathroom and into the lounge room. Your soon–to–be ex–husband and ex–best friend sitting too close for comfort, the sadness and anger that had been bubbling over had slowly disappeared as a blanket of numbness covered you. You could finally focus without your emotions getting in the way.

“Somehow, I expected that this would happen eventually.” Your voice fills the room and the two on the couch jump apart, eyes wide as their heads whip towards you. You stare blankly, your heart still hurts but it was good. It was reminding you of what they had done. It was true, the old you had expected this would happen, but you were so caught up in thinking he loved you that you were blinded by him and his lies. “Given your history, I should have known better.”

Johnny chuckles nervously, looking between you and Sarah. He wasn’t expecting this, but maybe he could lie and get out of it. Make you think it’s all in your head. “Babe, what are you talking about? I haven’t done anything!” He had to be careful, you hadn’t said what it was and if he wanted to lie, he couldn’t give anything away by saying the wrong thing.

“So, you didn’t cheat on me?” You decided to play dumb. You remembered who you were, and the game changed. You wouldn’t let anyone make you forget again.

Johnny scoffs. “Of course not, Babe! I love you! We’re just friends.” It was at that moment that he knew he fucked up.

“Just friends, huh?” You laugh. “Well, just friends don’t practically sit on top of each other especially when one is married, just friends don’t flirt with one another in a not so platonic way. Just friends don’t fuck each other in the bathroom while one friends wife is showering, just friends don’t slip out of bed when they think their wife is sleeping to fuck their friend in the other room. I’ve never had any friends like that, Johnny.” Your glare sharpens as you spit his name out with venom.

His mouth opens and closes, and Sarah’s eyes widen. “How did you find out?”

“You fucked her in OUR house! How do you think I found out?!” Your anger began to push against the numbness, wanting to be unleashed “I also remember everything. Every time you’d leave, look at another woman only for you and her to disappear a few minutes later, how you’d always be on your phone, OUR wedding.” You watched as they paled at the last part.

“Babe! It was never supposed to get this far! Trust me, I’m so sorry!” He gets up and moves closer to you. Hurt flashes through his eyes when you back away from him, the thought of him touching you again disgusted you.

“Get away from me! You’re not sorry, you’re just sorry you got caught! So don’t lie to me! I can’t believe I trusted you.” You could feel it, the blanket of numbness was slowly slipping away, and the tears returned, but they didn’t fall like before.

“Did you ever really love me...?” Your gaze shifted, your ex–best friend didn’t even look guilty, it was like a weight lifted off her shoulders. What did you ever do to her? “Do you love her?”

“Yes, I love you! I don’t love her, please believe me. It was just sex! She means nothing to me.” You could see the lie in his eyes, you wondered when he fell in love with her. You wondered if any of it was real. You wondered if his soul tugged the same way yours did when you bumped into that man, but if it did. Why didn’t he just leave? Why did they have to hurt you so bad? Why did they have to break you?

You shake your head. “I don’t believe you.” You swallow down the lump in your throat. “You made a promise. The same day you made that promise you had your dick in someone else. Tell me, was any part of this at least real?” You stared into his eyes, watching him think. You sighed, “Do you have any regrets doing this to me?” A part of you needed to know.

Instead of answering your question, he responded with. “Do we really have to end it all?” Your eyes ached from the weight of unshed tears. He was your home, did he not understand? But, you weren’t his and it was time for you to go.

With a heavy sigh, you ignore his question like he did yours and pull off your wedding and engagement ring. “I loved you in this lifetime… I won’t make that mistake in the next.” With shaky hands you push the rings into his chest, letting go of them as his hand comes up. Hoping to catch yours, but instead he only catches the rings. “Goodbye, Johnny. I guess our story ends here…” You walk out of the room and towards the door, grabbing your things. This was it…

Maybe she was his happy ending. Hopefully you could find yours.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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bad268 · 2 days

Note

maybe a kimi antonelli x reader oneshot where the reader is a journalist and kimi and her fall for each other?

love your stories!

The Exclusive (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Journalist! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (thank you love! I had fun with this <3 I used to be a journalism major so it was fun going back to my roots lol)

Warnings: Aged up Kimi

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 1067

Summary: The exclusive interview with Kimi.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

Right now, it was just a hobby. A little blog you started before college that then turned into a podcast and full-blown career. At least, that’s what it was looking like.

You started writing about the Formula 1 feeder series’ years ago because you wanted to give a platform to the smaller categories, and it blew up. It also blew your mind that these people who were around your age were already getting their feet in the door to the pinnacle of motorsport. You also had a knack for writing, so reporting on the drivers’ and the series’ themselves proved to be easy for you.

Soon enough, you started getting invited on behalf of different teams to interview their drivers. Mainly Prema, ART, Van Amersfoort, and MP Motorsport, but they were the biggest teams in each category, so it made sense.

The first time you went to the track was with Van Amersfoort in 2021. There was a race at your favorite track of Red Bull Ring, which you had mentioned on the blog at one point, so they invited you. You had heard of a new driver joining one of the teams, but since it was not Van Amersfoort, you did not plan to do a deep dive until after the race weekend.

You were running through the garages, looking for your iPad, so you could interview Oliver Bearman, the championship leader. Plus, you were already a guest in their garage. Might as well capitalize on it.

You finally found it, so you pulled out your microphone from your backpack as you walked down the pitlane. Most of the drivers were getting the track limits rundown from the stewards, so you knew Ollie would be free after the meeting.

Almost as if it were planned, you ran into someone while you were distracted. Looking up from where you dropped the microphone and a paper with the questions you had for Ollie, you’re met with a brown-eyed, curly-haired boy, and you're a goner.

You couldn’t help but stutter out an apology, but funny enough, he was doing the same. When you both finally stopped stuttering out apologies, he said, “My name’s Kimi.”

You told him your name, and the rest was history.

There was an unspoken rule that from that moment onward, mainly because you two became official not long after. You were only a guest of Prema. It was just a joke that Kimi made up, saying he would crash if you wore any other team’s merch on a race weekend. Sure, you did not believe it, but it’s not like you had anything against wearing your boyfriend’s team merch.

It also meant that you got exclusive Kimi Antonelli interviews whenever you wanted, and you would ask (manipulate) Kimi into messaging any driver you wanted to interview. There was one interview that boosted both of you into the ranks of motorsport.

“Kimi,” You said simply as soon as the podcast started.

“Y/n,” He repeated back as he looked at you over the microphone. You had recently started recording the podcasts to be posted to YouTube after being told to do it by Clement Novalak. He had a successful podcast, so you thought you better listen to his advice.

“2023 Formula 2 Champion has a nice ring to it, don’t you agree?”

“It does, yeah,” He laughed.

“Good, it would suck if you didn't,” You muttered into the microphone. “Anyways, I know this already because I’m cool, but I think my viewers should get the exclusive. Kimi, where will you be going next year?”

“I'm still racing,” He knew that was not what you were asking, but he’s been on enough of your podcasts to know that your fans love the banter.

“No shit, Sherlock,” You deadpanned with a dry laugh. “I mean what team will you drive.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” He teased, eyeing you from his place across from you.

“I already know, and if you don’t spill the beans, I’ll say it,” You threatened. “I’ve got your PR manager on speed dial, so don’t even try to threaten me with Sophie.”

“Fine, I guess I’m going to Mercedes,” Kimi sighed in mock hurt, but you knew it was all for show.

“How does it feel to be teammates with the George Russell and share a grid with the guy who introduced us again?”

“Ollie did not introduce us, don’t get the story messed up,” Kimi accused as he leaned forward on the couch, causing you to do the same. “You and your clumsiness is what got us to meet.”

“Oh, please! You were a stuttering mess, too. Do not put all the blame on me!”

“I never said I was blaming you!”

“It sounds like it!”

“Why are we arguing about how we met? We are both saying the same thing!”

“You’re right,” You said normally as you leaned back on the couch before whispering, “for once,” Into the microphone. You looked up at Kimi as he also sat back. “Anyways, now that we’ve settled you’re going to Mercedes, what track are you most excited for?”

“Monaco,” Kimi said immediately.

“How did I know you would say that?”

“Probably because I told you this a couple of days ago when you tested this question on me, and I answered Singapore, but you said that wasn’t good enough.”

“Hey, don’t expose me on my own podcast here!”

“Ok, my answer is Singapore,” He changed his answer as he raised his eyebrows at you, almost asking you to dispute his answer.

“I’ll cut this out,” Spoiler, no you did not. “But I don't think that’s the right answer.”

“What do you mean?” KImi gasped as he laughed in disbelief. “It’s my answer!”

“What is so special about Singapore? It's literally just hot, that’s it!”

“Well, yes, but-” Kimi tried but was cut off by your laughing. Eventually, you died down, and he continued, “The atmosphere is insane.”

“The atmosphere is also insane in Monza or Red Bull Ring but ok.”

“I’ve raced there.”

“Oh! I didn’t even think about that!”

“You thought I would prefer a track that I’ve already driven and won at?”

“I forgot the implications of my own question,” You giggled at yourself. “Anyways, I think that’s enough for today’s episode. The blog post will be up tomorrow, and the video will be up by Sunday. We’ll see you on the track!”

~~~~~

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turnnblurb · 13 hours

Note

Oooo maybe Rhett teaching you how to ride a horse? And he gets frisky? Anything you write will be amazing!!! :)

yes!!!! thank you love!!

rhett teaches you how to ride a horse properly

warnings: soft!rhett, smooching, so much fluff, drinking, yearning

you had only been living in wabang for about a year when you met rhett abbott.

a lonesome day had led you to your first lonesome night at the handsome gambler. work was shit. your apartment was shit. you hadn’t made a single friend in the whole year due to the fact that the whole town seemed to be a bit wary of new arrivals. but, thankfully a certain cowboy was intrigued by what others deemed a little different.

“ya’ alright?” you felt that unwavering presence of his before the words slipped out of his mouth. the barstool next to you shifting under his weight and your surroundings being suddenly filled by the scent of leather.

“hm?” you were a bit drunk. nearly more than a bit, choosing to sip on the beer in front of you instead of shooting back another whiskey. his eyes crinkled when he allowed himself to chuckle at your tipsy state.

“i said are ya’ alright?” he crossed his arms on top of the bar-top, “couldn’t miss the way you’ve just been starin’ a hole into that neon sign for the past thirty minutes.”

he didn’t mean to notice you, not at all. he also couldn’t help the way his eyes were being consistently drawn to the pretty girl he’d never seen before sat at the bar with an awful frown on her face. he figured you were from out of town, just visiting for the night. maybe expecting a shitty date that would never show up because not even he trusted half the men in wabang.

“oh, yeah sorry— um just a rough day, didn’t mean to cause any worry.” he took in the way your eyes scrunched close as you answered his question, as if you were reliving some horrible memory that he should feel bad for bringing up.

“so ya’ drove to the middle of nowhere wabang to get wasted?” his brow quirked at the confusion on your face. you were something, not being able to control your facial expressions with the amount of liquor in your system currently. undeniably cute.

“no! i mean just from my apartment..” for a moment you both looked at each other quizzically, him putting the pieces together before you could figure out that he didn’t know you were now a resident in his home town.

“ya’ tellin me you live here? never seen or heard of you before.” he tilted his head some, the slight movement filtering his words better for you to hear.

“have for about a year now, not much to see or hear i reckon.” you took another slow sip from the bottle in front of you. you let him ask you where you’re from after that, then for your name. the name he gives you in return is one you immediately recognize.

“ah, so you’re that bull rider they keep interrupting my hank williams channel to talk about?” the connection brings a smile on your face, it’d be a lie to say that you didn’t turn up the radio when you heard his name with a tinge of intrigue in your emotion.

“fraid’ so,” he laughs into his own beer bottle. “sorry about that, ma’am.” he’s everything you expected him to be. cool and collected as he speaks to you with such air that the people around you must think that you’re life long friends.

“i’ve always wanted to do something cool like that actually, used to beg my mom to put me in horse riding lessons.” you aren’t too sure what drawls the confession out of you. the alcohol or the pretty smile resting on rhett’s lips as he looks at you kinder than anyone had for the last year.

“ya’ still interested?” for a second you are not entirely sure what he’s asking, you have to pause for a moment.

“i mean— pshh.” you blush under his thoughtful gaze. “might be a bit too late for my cowgirl days to start now.” you look down at your cardigan and platform boots, the only thing wabang about you might be the wranglers form fitting to your legs.

“nah, don’t think so,” he narrows his now mischief glimmered eyes at you. “why don’t ya’ come to the ranch sometime. i’ll teach ya’ how to be a cowgirl.”

you think he’s fucking with you, he has to be. you hadn’t made a single friend in the town and all of the sudden cowboy casanova is offering you tutoring lessons with the sweetest look on his face.

“where’s this ranch of yours?” it seems that his tense shoulders relax some at your words, he pulls out a pen from his breast pocket and writes something on the back of a tab receipt that you hadn’t noticed him receiving.

he even drives you home. guiding you to his truck with an appropriate, but burning hand on your back. opening your door and giving you a hand to help you in. he stifles laughter as you drunkenly give him directions to your place. finally, he walks you to your apartment door despite your insistence that its unnecessary.

that’s how you make your first friend in wabang. that’s also how you end up at the abbott ranch on a well-tempered friday morning.

you had called the number scrawled onto the back of the receipt alongside the unfamiliar address after you gathered your bearings of that night. the deep voice on the other line had you deeply blushing, how on earth you had not managed to buckle under the intense stare you recall is a mystery to you. the meeting time and date was set and the call was ended with a ‘see you then, might want to buy some better boots.’

you did end up taking his advice on the boots. brown leather now cladding your feet up to your shins, making them near unbearable to wear at first try. at least the dragonfly design was cute.

he was already on the front porch waiting for you when you arrived in your little hatchback car. he knew it was you immediately because no girl, even person drove anything but a pick up in wabang. it made you all that more endearing to him. he found himself making his way down the steps to open your car door for you before you could even place it in park.

“fancy seeing ya’ here, cowgirl.” he offered his hand to you to distract you from how his eyes were flitting down your figure. you were gonna kill him. his obituary would surely read, ‘heart attack induced by city girl wearing cowboy boots and flared jeans.’ no one would think to mention that the white tank you had on underneath your brown cardigan was the final straw for him.

“hm, you are rick talbott, right?” you joke through a smirk, not expecting him to have to clutch his chest at how funny he found it. you were thankful that it gave you a moment to admire him in the daylight. scruff and sharp lines that you weren’t able to see under the dim bar lights.

“close enough.” his laughter died off and left you two in a moment of comfortable silence as he shut your car door and led the way with a nudge of his head. he still had the dark denim on that you recognized from the bar, but his button up was replaced by a form fitting long sleeve white tee. what a sight. he even replaced his stetson with a navy blue ball cap.

“now, m’ gonna take it easy on ya’ today, but give it a week and you’ll be barreling like a pro.” you watched his hands as they undid the lock of the barn door, opening them to what you could only imagine was your childhood dream.

four horses, bells of hay, just born calves. the smile on your face was irreplaceable. he turned to you at your silence, wishing he hadn’t when the wind was nearly knocked out of him at the sight of your beaming face.

“everything you ever hoped for?” he smirked with his large hands on his hips, damn him for teasing you when he looked so good.

“so much more.” you sighed, taking in your surroundings. he didn’t miss the way your eyes softened when they landed on their newest baby calf lucy, he’d have to remind himself to let you bottle feed her.

“that’s probably jus’ the smell of horse shit making ya’ all delusional. the wonder will pass when ya’ step in it.” he spoke as he reached forward to place a soft grip on your bicep, leading you further into the barn with the soft fabric of your thin cardigan warming around his hand. he liked the way you laughed for him at his poor attempt at a joke. he wasn’t much for whimsy and humor, but you sure did already know how to pull it out of him.

“oh, they’re beautiful!” you exclaimed when you finally got close enough to the horse stalls, a hand resting on your heart. so in awe that you almost disregarded the strong one still on your bicep. it was disappointingly removed when he noticed your soft eyes on it.

“i’m sure they appreciate that,” he was so soft with you it had him wondering who the hell he even was. he sure didn’t feel like a bull rider in that moment, and he definitely didn’t feel like the town slut everyone made him out to be.

“which one is yours?” he took you down two stalls further. giving himself a moment to run his hand down the tall black horse’s nose.

“ this ‘s doc.” he turned to you, silently reaching over to grab your hand and bring it to where his was on the horse seconds before. he let you pet doc at your own accord. “we’re gonna take him today, only one i trust with ya’.”

you aren’t entirely sure of what he means by that, but it has your heart fluttering nonetheless.

“big tombstone fan?” you gave the horse a few final pats before turning back to the man beside you with a smirk on your face.

“who isn’t?” he shrugged and stifled a huge smile at your uttered ‘fair.’

one thing for certain. if you had known that your first ‘lesson’ was going to be spent with both of you on the same horse, you would’ve worn a much thicker cardigan.

the kindness, deep voice, and eerily soft hands were enough to have you in a downward spiral. but, the warmth of rhett’s chest pressed to your back as he’s reached around you to guide doc out into the pasture has you standing firm in the fact that you now have a horrible crush on the cowboy.

“sorry ‘bout the close quarters, but seeing as you’ve never ridden before, think it’s for the best.” his voice was all too close to your ears for it to not send a shiver down your spine despite the glaring heat of the mid-day sun.

“s’fine, thought you would smell a little worse than you do.” the lighthearted joke was fleeing your lips before you could correct your city-like rudeness. he took no hurt in it, finding it quite funny as he let his head roll onto your shoulder in laughter, the brim of his hat peaking out over your left. no, he definitely wasn’t doing anything to dim the crush.

“i’ll take that as a compliment, sweetheart.” he didn’t miss how your breath hitched over the gallop of the horse. he was a little too content to know that he had the same affect on you as you did him.

when he deemed you two far enough out, he gently placed the reins in your hands.

“alright, i’ll let you take the reins now,” he waited for you to laugh at the pun before he continued, “you’re gonna want to sit up a little straighter, good. make sure your feet stay in the stirrups. relax a little..”

you weren’t sure how you were supposed to relax with his large hands placed firmly on your hips, but you did your best, earning yourself a sweet praise.

“as much as ya’ have to trust doc here, he has to trust ya’ just as much. take it easy at first, i’ll set him into a trot n’ if you feel ya’ wanna go any faster just give him a solid nudge with your foot.” he did exactly that, giving you enough time to feel out the reins in your hands and the slight pull of doc’s tall stature through the field.

it was light work. the handsome man leaning into your back was only a slight hindrance. it got a little hard to focus every now and then with him breathing down your neck, but you managed.

time passed with you guiding doc through the gorgeous acres of land that you still couldn’t believe were home to rhett’s front yard. you’d egg the horse on into a faster pace every now and then, relishing in the sickeningly sweet ‘there ya’ goes’ spoken into your ear. at some point you grew bored of the slow trot. you found your head turned slightly back at rhett, silently jumping out of your skin when you found his eyes hard set on you. a gulp could be heard.

“would it be okay if i went faster?” you weren’t sure of doc’s capabilities, but if he had enough in him to haul around a bull rider, he should be in well enough shape. rhett’s lips upturned into a smirk.

“go ahead, doll,” he nodded at you reassuringly, hands loosely at his sides, not quite prepared for just how fast you were willing to go. “woah— jesus, cowgirl!”

with two sturdy taps into doc’s right side he had immediately switched gears, all but launching rhett into your back. he had to steady himself on your hips with a tight grip. you swore his surprised laugh could’ve been heard from a satellite.

your hair was blowing back into rhett’s minimal space, he didn’t find himself minding the smell of your shampoo. he also didn’t find himself with a negative emotion in his soul. not a single one could be found when he had the sweetest girl he had ever met right in front of him, on his horse. said girl controlling doc perfectly at a gallop only rhett can handle him at. he figured he’d be safer with his hands glued to your hips, no other reason. definitely not because he couldn’t get enough of your body in his grasps.

the laugh coming from you was so genuine that you didn’t even recognize it. you hadn’t laughed from pure joy like this in years, it felt.

once you had your fun you pulled the reins firmer, hauling doc back to a slow trot, and eventually a full stop when you met the middle of the pasture. mountains encasing a moment only dreams recognize. with a heavy breath out, you shook your head in disbelief.

“wow, i could get used to that.” you still had a soft laugh in your voice, and rhett found he still did as well. for a moment, you allowed yourself to take in the all encompassing beauty that you had missed when gliding through the field. “i think that’s the most fun i’ve had in a good while.”

“me too.” his soft confession had you peeking your head back at him, the discomfort of your neck melted by the cowboy blue in his eyes. his breath heavier. “‘didn’t ever tell you how pretty you are at the bar the other night.”

“i’m glad, don’t think drunk me could’ve withheld kissing you. oh—” your cheeks flooded with heat, not preparing you for the deep silence to follow. your ears started ringing. why the hell did you just say that?

“oh.” his voice deep with the short phrase, his own cheeks blushing a deep shade and aching at the smile forming on his lips. it’s hard not to stare at them. his right hand that he forgot to take off of your hip is raising towards your waist.

“well, what is sober you thinkin’?” he asks with a hum, leaning in before either of you realizes. he has to balance his weight slightly more to the left for him to be able to see your face fully.

“that even now, i’d still kiss you.” you say it before thinking, there’s no reason to take it back. the evidence that he wants it just as badly as you do is written on his face. in a quick movement his reaching for the hat on his head, pulling it off of his slightly curly mused hair, just so it doesn’t interfere when the time is right. he places the right hand that is now holding the hat in a firm grip on the back of your head gently.

“nothing stopping ya’ cowgirl, i sure ain’t.” and with those final words, all you have to do is lean towards him maybe an inch to place your soft lips to his. and you do just that. his hand flexes around both the hat and the back of your head, pushing you into him more.

the kiss is gentle, but it hints at so much more. you can feel his smile without having to see it. he has to stifle it from its full extent just so he can keep kissing you. with a slight tilt of his head he has you sighing into his open mouth, giving him more reason to trace your bottom lip with his tongue. the motion has a barely audible whimper escaping you, but he hears it all too well.

“gonna kill me, sweetheart.” he pulls back too soon for your liking, resting his forehead on the top of yours. his chest heaves with desire and your breaths thread into his.

“i hope not, would have to find another hot cowboy to give me free riding lessons.” you giggle, pressing a sweet kiss to his chin. “and i don’t think they would be able to make me feel like this.”

“wouldn’t want that, would we?” his stare is intense, but only gentle. it holds a promise.

in that moment he forgets everything and everyone else in the world. every duty, every dumb hook up. all he knows in that moment is you.

#rhett abbott #send a letter #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott fluff #rhett abbott smut #outer range #outer range fanfiction #lewis pullman #bob floyd #top gun #fluff #fan fic #blurb

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velvetvexations · 3 days

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I think one of the main reasons I dislike Fantasy High Junior Year is because of the way it was marketed. Like, there's an entire video explaining how Kristen is gonna go through this major character arc and ditch some of her more wacky antics as she realizes that the chaos she creates isn't cute anymore... and then there's absolutely no payoff. Instead, Kristen is at her quirkiest and most chaotic and other than a few dressing downs from some NPCs that she completely ignores nothing happens.

Like, I've never had a problem with Kristen's disaster personality. I think they handled it just fine in the first two seasons so that she never became too annoying or unlikeable. But it's just dialed up to 11 in Season 3. To the point where its genuinely not funny. And if chaos isn't cute, that'd make sense. It'd be on purpose, so everything can come crumbling down Fabian style and she'd have to become a better person. But that doesn't happen. So you're left sitting through all this garbage with the promise of a payoff that doesn't exist, which just leaves you bitter at the end.

It's especially frustrating when a few characters try to lead her in that direction. Like, Riz is working his ass off to get Kristen the presidency, something she only really wants as an ego boost, with no real platform or plans she can think of. He's the one joining all the clubs. He's the one making all the plans. Hell, he's the one making sure they're all doing well in their classes. And it gets to the point where his mom flat out tells Kristen that Riz would make a better president than her.

In any other story, that would immediately que the audience in to how Kristen's arc is gonna get resolved. With her abandoning the presidency and giving it to Riz, apologizing for making him do so much work for her and rewarding him for his effort. This followed up by deciding to be better for Cassandra, another person she mistreated and took for granted.

But she doesn't. Instead, she just makes Riz her vice president at the end and pushes all the work onto him AGAIN, to the point where it undoes the only character development he got all season (him shifting back to coffee from tea the moment Kristen makes him VP). And it certainly doesn't help that its the middle class white girl making her poor minority friend do everything for her.

Like, why market it as Kristen getting serious when that doesn't happen? Why act like she has some arc when she doesn't? It only makes the audience bitter when they went in expecting serious consequences and got nothing.

The marketing was very weird. Not only was there the false advertising with Baron's second form, which really hurts me to say as someone who sees Dropout as a bastion of ethics-based capitalism, but something just didn't sit right with me about the hype blimey got when it happened. Like, yes, it was funny, but like...ultimately I was like, alright? It wasn't anything actually important? It was specifically something Brennan was once again pushing really hard for them to succeed at because it was something they had to pass to continue to the next leg of the story?

Back when the Second Place episode of Game Changer came out, I saw someone complain about Dropout going back to the Brennan monologue well. I was like, hey, I love that shit, if you don't like the premise of a show don't watch it, right?

But here the commercialization of the cast's quirks and specific styles might have, I think, crossed a line, because of just how underwhelming blimey was compared to how it was built up. Like, Ally's quirky insane rolls drive Brennan crazy, haha, okay. The Brennan monologue well is, IMO, far from dry, but D20's hysterical theatrics in situations like that is getting stale, or at least that's how it felt this season.

#Dimension 20 #fhjy

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wayfayrr · 3 days

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I just remembered how sometimes I yell at Link when he does something that annoys me, like if I’m trying to walk across a really skinny plank but he accidentally walks off/falls off, or when I’m trying to run from an enemy but he starts climbing a tree instead. I’ll just be like “Link no! Get off the stupid tree omg ur gonna die!” Or “Link! Stop falling off the platform! I just wanna get to the top already!” Would he be mad at me for yelling at him? Sad? …..?

Then there’s an unrelated issue that isn’t his fault that my controller sometimes drifts, so he’s walked off cliffs before bc it was drifting slightly forward and I didn’t notice. The most annoying one on my controller is when the motion control stops working and I’m trying to aim my bow and arrow but it freezes so I have to quickly manually flick the analog stick so it works again but by then I might’ve already gotten hit. Is he mad at me for these problems?

Oooooooh! Then there’s the whole having to scroll thru the whole menu options when u wanna attach something to ur arrow. Ugh that takes forever! Like I wanted a bomb flower but now I want a keese eyeball and that’s all the way at the other end of the menu! Is he frustrated w that? (Ik technically it’s “paused” when I do that but let’s say he’s still conscious when I’m doing that it’s just everything around him is frozen in time. So like he’s just crouching there waiting for me to finally attach an eyeball lol).

Or what about the sages?? I love them all so much but trying to find them (and the right one when u have all of them) and activate their ability is sometimes annoying. I’ll want Sidon’s shield for a second but instead Tulin does his gust. Or when I’m just trying to pick something up he’ll blow it away lol. What does Tears think of that?

Sorry this got so long. I understand I had like 4 ideas in this ask, they all just came into my mind at once lol.

I think he'd get a bit upset over you yelling at him, he gets that you're worried that he'll get hurt but it's not always his fault? sometimes sure but it's just starting to hurt his feelings more than anything. when you're playing he's just a puppet in your hands and as much as he loves you he's still 'a person'. if you struggle to even put him anywhere near that position soon then well, it's not like you can yell at him again for it right? he doesn't want to upset you after all.

I don't think that he'd ever blame you for console defects like that, hell he could even be behind a good number of them, it's not your fault the game is buggy. The only time he could ever be bothered by it is is you close out of the game because its so buggy, if the game is getting to the point where it's bordering on unplayable he still can't blame you but it'll get under his skin so much more. is he not good enough for you? is his game not good enough for you to work through the glitches? don't be surprised if you can't exit the game or turn off your switch for a bit :3 surely nothing has gotten corrupted or broken beyond repair right? No he hasn't sabotaged it himself, how could he - why would he?

The menu is honestly pretty sucky at times for throwing items and sticking them to your arrows, besides from reshuffling it to get what you need to be closer to where you start scrolling from. I think tears is most likely to get irritated at the games own design for that, because it'd be so much easier for him to just grab what you needed from his pad to fuse it onto one of his arrows but he just can't, he's stuck having to abide by the rules of the game, watching you struggle with the admittedly awful UI Nintendo cursed him with. If he wasn't so stressed about you resetting him - or worse reporting your 'faulty' copy of the game. he'd take his own steps to make it better for you - maybe he'll even do it earlier if you carry on struggling like this. He just needs to get more confident about it <3

the sages probably mess with him so much, he wants you ALONE and now he's constantly got these guys running around him?? he's gotta interact with them to try and get his abilities (lwk this could make him more jealous of wild who gets to have you one on one all of the time) And most of the sages abilities are optional anyway so I mean, maybe you won't notice if he simply disables them right? he won't delete them outright so if you miss them you can use them but if you don't reactivate them? maybe he could.... so then it'll be just you and him, just link.

#so um #just monika doesn't work as well with link #something something syllables #shame :(#🐰 anon #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #moss✦answers #link x reader #yandere link #linked universe #yandere lu tears #yandere lu x reader #self aware au #self aware loz

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ironunderstands · 1 day

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I saw your post about Jade and wanted to share my thoughts on why, I too believe that, trying to justify or excuse whatever she's doing because she's a woman is ridiculous.

I've seen so, so many people going on about how women (fictional or real) are absolute saints who can do no wrong and every awful thing they do is excusable. Why? Because they're women. They've had it rough unlike men.

Let me tell you why this infuriates me so much.

It's because they're downplaying the hardships any man (again, fictional or real) has to face in favor of rooting for their girlboss or queen.

People are trying to say Jade is a hero because she "rescued" Aventurine while Dr Ratio is a POS because he talked down on Aventurine (even though it turns out to be an act, people still say it's "too late" for apologies and that he isn't sincere).

Now, I don't know anything about Jade. Yet. But saying she's some kind of hero or savior feels very wrong. It's like people are acting as if Aventurine needed her or else, he wouldn't be alive which is NOT TRUE.

Aventurine isn't some helpless damsel in need of a knight in shining armor. The man saved himself without anyone else's help.

Apologies for sounding rude but I know damn well if Aventurine and Jade's genders were swapped, Jade would get cancelled on every platform on the planet in seconds.

So yeah. That's my rant. Sorry for taking up your time and listening to me being annoying.

I understand where this is coming from, and I do think that yeah, people excuse a female character’s actions because she’s a woman. However, the reverse also happens way more, where women get demonized for stuff that barely even matters, which only results in the thing you’re talking about occurring more as a form of pushback, and thus results in character’s like Jade who are horrible people getting that ignored by her fans.

Also yeah, people’s tendency to damsel Aventurine is extremely annoying, considering he only has managed to survive so far due to his own efforts, and attributing his success to Jade is stupid.

Lastly, I do think you are correct that if their genders were swapped, people would hate Jade even more than they already do now, I think the “such pretty eyes” comment would not go over so well if it was an older man to a younger woman.

So I do get the frustration

#honkai star rail #hsr #jade hsr #jade honkai star rail #aventurine #aventurine hsr

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gossip-girl-of-middleearth · 2 years

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Feeling very angry tonight and that anger is naturally manifesting through fictional characters so now just laying here thinking about how Jaskier’s first gift to Geralt was fixing his reputation solely by taking away his dreaded nickname of “Butcher of Blaviken” and replacing it with “White Wolf” yet he was left so fucking heartbroken and fairly pissed off at Geralt for leaving him that his petty ass took away his biggest gift to Geralt and got everyone to know him as the “Butcher” again through Burn Butcher Burn out of spiteful retaliation

#like holy fuck I thought asking for a friendship necklace back off of my ex bestie when I was a kid was petty #Jaskier did in fact single handedly create cancel culture send tweet #I’ve been doing a lot of research on the history of real bards today #and just #the influence music alone has over nations #it could paint kings as either tyrants or heroes #Jaskier could’ve started a witch hunt against geralt in retaliation if he really wanted to through music and lyrics alone #he had the platform to say anything he wanted #Jesus if he had an ounce of villainy in him taking away the gift of removing Butcher from Geralt’s resume would’ve just been a warning shot #like he could’ve said anything in his songs and people would’ve been swayed to his side #that’s power right there man #the shit music can do to people #astounding #don’t think Geralt is appreciating that Jaskier didn’t go through a villain era lmao #never piss off a poet #just look at Taylor Swift hot damn #the bard truely do giveth and taketh away lmao #Joey Batey #geraskier #the Witcher #Jaskier #Witcher #geralt

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tomwambsgans · 1 year

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i'm just gonna say it. on the app that could reasonably be called Misinformation: The Website, where you have no good reason to believe almost anything that anyone says, where people are known to play genuine fucked up long cons where they go so far as to fake a disability, or stage scenes of verbal/emotional abuse with their partners, or make some other incredibly serious claim only to eventually come out and admit that they lied or faked it to be *interesting* or whatever... i think it's wise to take the anecdote of a single random person with a grain of salt

#if it was in any other format on any other website yknow #but it's just not even framed like an 'i'm coming out to talk about this' type video #tiktok is genuinely a platform of ANY attention being good attention to the point that 'always believe victims'. as awful as it seems #has to stop applying. because ppl fr make the most heinouse lies on there and are PROVEN to have lied #like there simply has to be a layer of suspicion here cmon. i'm worried and anxious too but i'm not gonna take one video as FACT #i'm frankly shocked that the masses are doing just that rather than just saying 'wtf i hope this isn't true'#if there's some other stuff beyond the one video that i just haven't seen yeah please send it to me i guess #but if it really is just the one video i really don't understand why this is happening #ntm how vague the story even is?#its literally 'he wanted to have sex and i said no and i heard he had sex with someone from my hs'#no names no reciepts no anything except proof that they did meet #theres plausible deniability of her even corroborating the story that anything happened to anyone else #bc she didnt even say that she heard FROM the other girl herself or anything #literally all this is rn is a story from someone who wanted to say that nick isnt babygirl #like sorry but im gonna need to hear a bit more before i do anytbing drastic

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julesnichols · 2 months

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One day (when I've slept enough to both remember enough to make all of my points and be coherent) I'll explain what I meant when I joked about Sophie being worse

#about me #bc i do have Thoughts. and also i did Not mean that negatively lmfao #i love women who are worse! she is not even the worst character i've stanned #arguably that award goes to melanie cavill #but it's not Negative and it sure as hell does NOT mean that i think that nate isn't also deeply deeply flawed #or that she corrupted him somehow #enabled him sometimes? yeah. but he was already either Like That or on the path to being Like That #but like i said that meme works both ways and that's why they work #i will also elaborate on what i mean by that when i'm not so exhausted #she's his compass. she didn't intend to make him worse nor did she #she made him better. he made her better. they balance each other as much as they clash with one another #anyways all of my reasoning for why i felt like i could say she's worse for that meme #do not even have to do with nate lmfao #when i make this post tho i will be Open to civil debate for people to share their povs of why they don't think the same way #that's kinda the other reason why i'll make it though #bc i did Not spend enough time on that meme to be more than mildly irritated by some of the commentary #but i also don't want it totally derailed when i think it's def smth that could be an interesting discussion to be had #and i'll gladly host that discussion when i'm not dying of sleep deprivation #i just wanna give it its own platform y'know?#i don't want it to get lost on a silly little meme #but anyways it's also like #his influence did make her better and hers made him somewhat better too #but in his case her influence more like. balanced him. than anything else #bc he got worse and worse and it had Nothing to do with her #but she was still the one yanking him back from the edge of no return #and i suppose in a way that does inherently make her better #but again when i made that meme and said she was worse i was not even thinking in terms of her actual relationship to nate #as what made her worse lmfao #more along the lines of the collateral damage mostly done by charlotte prentice #and specifically to william and astrid

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keithbutgay · 2 months

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So I don't know if anyone has been keeping up on this case, but I tried looking for posts on it and I've only found transphobic rants and comments. So just... spreading awareness.

There is an ongoing case in Australia currently (the hearing has concluded but the ruling has not been announced) where Roxy Tickle, a trans woman, is suing the Giggle for Girls app and its founder for $100,000, plus another $100,000. Giggle for Girls is a platform exclusively for women, and Roxy was banned from the app after joining.

The app already has a lot of problematic features on it. For example, any new user is required to submit a selfie-- a photo which is then analyzed by ai to determine whether or not the user is a woman. For Roxy, the ai wasn't the issue, however-- in fact, she used the app for several months with no problem. Instead, the owner of the app manually and purposefully overrode the ai, revoking Roxy's access to the app, because she saw her profile. She then refused to reinstate her account and blocked her.

The founder of the app, Sall Grover, has knowingly and persistently misgendered Roxy dozens of times in interviews, articles and posts. I have a chrome extension that shows if a website is queerphobic or not, and when I look up Roxy's name there are only two results not in red.

As well as this, the additional $100,000 dollars Roxy is suing for? That's because of an online campaign waged against her by Grover, who has a large platform on Twitter. Katherine Deves, who had been representing Giggle in court tried to get the case thrown out. And Grover quite literally called in evolutionary biologist Colin Wright to advocate for her case. He's giving evidence for the trial.

There is a fundraiser to "reclaim sex based rights and protections for all women and girls" created specifically for this case. It has raised over $500,000, and that number is still growing.

Anyways. I don't know if I was just the last one to know about this, but the fact that I even found out about this case was because of a post a terf made scares me.

If anyone else has any more information, please add onto this post! And if I missed anything, or said anything wrong, please correct me.

Thank you for taking this time out of your day.

If you want to read more about the case, I would check out these articles:

#this is not my normal kind of post but it needed to be said #11:11 make a wish #roxy tickle #roxanne tickle #tickle v giggle #transphobia #tw transphobia #court case

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irishskeptic · 2 months

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I know a lot of people picture Thalia Grace as tall because she’s the daughter of Zeus, but her being short is far too much funnier to me.

Give me Thalia being a tiny, electric ball of rage.

Give me Thalia wearing 4 inch platform boots… just to be 5’5.

Give me Thalia doing a quadruple take at how big Annabeth had gotten after she came out of the tree.

Give me Percy using her head as an armrest one day, and getting zapped all the way across camp.

Give me Thalia being a whole foot shorter than her little brother Jason. (He wouldn’t say anything about it, he’s a sweetheart)

It’s in my head now, and I’m spreading it as much as I can.

Tagging @florenceisstrange, @starlightshadowsworld, and @ishouldsleepbut, I want to hear your thoughts on this.

#thalia grace #jason grace #annabeth chase #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackon and the olympians #heroes of olympus #pjo #pjo fandom #hoo #hoo fandom #riordanverse #misc skeptic thoughts

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wearenotjustnumbers2 · 6 months

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"I want to go back to feeling my hand. I wanna hold my hand"

This child Ibrahim Dahouk, from gaza strip, had his arm amputated in Israeli bombardment. He's crying, saying that he wants his hand back. Ibrahim says that the doctors told him he'd be able to if he could get outside of gaza for medical attention as soon as possible, he asks for anyone to put an end to the bombing so he could get proper treatment.

Translation:

"-Why are you crying?

I want to go back to holding my hand. I want to feel my hand.

My two cousins have been killed and I got injured. Please stop the war, that's what we want. We want to go back to our homes, we want to go back to live and to walk like before. They don't care about anything, they don't care about us. For the rest of my life I only want to feel my hand again, please. The doctor told me if you want your hand to grow back you have to get treatment abroad, immediately."

Then the man goes into explaining ibrahim's situation. Please if anybody knows how to help get Ibrahim the medical treatment for prosthetic limbs do everything you can, before he loses the remaining parts of his hand, share this on all platforms. And most importantly keep demanding a ceasefire. This has to stop.

#palestine #gaza #israel #important #current events #free palestine #ethnic cleansing #free gaza #gaza strip #gaza under attack #gaza under genocide #israel apartheid #israel is a terrorist state #israel is an apartheid state #we are not numbers #usa #america #signal boost #video

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hbmmaster · 3 months

Text

edit: disabled reblogs because this timeline is missing some important events. see the notes for corrections

so okay my current best understanding of what happened here is

a trans woman is the victim of mass harassment

she attempts to report the harassment to tumblr and tumblr does nothing

she posts about her frustration with tumblr staff in a way that directly provokes the ceo of automattic (but not in a way that's actually a credible threat or a bannable offense)

[speculation! this is not confirmed] the ceo is so offended that someone who dares to use the platform he owns would joke about him suffering looney tunes violence that he wants to ban her for this, but since she hasn't done anything wrong he can't do that. but since he's the ceo he can do whatever he wants so he goes through her account(s) showing stuff he doesn't like to the moderation team until he eventually stumbles upon something that actually does technically violate the community guidelines

the trans woman's blog is, for reasons that haven't been officially stated, superbanned in a way that had been previously used when a bunch of black activists were accused of being russian bots. every image she's ever posted is "removed for violating community guidelines" including images that in no way violate community guidelines

tumblr users notice that these innocent images have been removed and make the reasonable assumption that the reason it says these images were removed for violating community guidelines is that something in these images violated community guidelines. people are, understandably, appalled by the implication that a trans woman posting completely normal selfies would be a bannable offense

the ceo, in a move that literally any PR person ever would advise against, personally singles out the woman who was banned, giving explanations of why exactly she was banned that members of tumblr staff would go on to clarify were not the actual reasons. he is technically on vacation while this is happening so nobody is physically there to tell him this is a bad move

miscellaneous other users who posted about this situation are banned for unstated reasons

after getting some backlash to this, the ceo doubles down and digs himself deeper, even following the banned user to another website to harass her

some trans members of tumblr staff release an official statement condemning their ceo's actions, saying in particular that the reasons he gave for why the user had been banned were not the actual reasons, but without specifying why she actually was banned

#hbmmaster

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leviathanspain · 6 months

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Hey could you write a Finnick odair / reader where snow forces them to pretend to date like he did with katniss and peeta? The whole convince him and get married as a distraction thing? Thanks :)

the pretender

finnick odair x reader

synopsis: being reaped from the victor’s pool changed your life in more ways than you imagined

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you were his favorite girl.

girl. you were a girl when you had been reaped, a girl when your feet stepped off the platform, more shocked that you didn’t immediately blow up into bits. a girl when you had committed your first kill. you remembered the sound of your knife slicing into human flesh for the first time. the ringing in your ears had become permanent after you had been too close to the explosion that had killed half of the tributes. an explosion that you had accidentally caused.

your rebellious spirit was fun at first, for the capital to laugh and delight in, until you stopped using the scripts that they had written for you, and tried to destroy the idea of the girl in their minds.

snow subdued you, tried to barter your family’s life with cooperation. unbeknownst to him, you hadn’t seen your family in years since they had abandoned you, for fighting against your father’s abuse.

“kill them. do whatever you want to them. just leave me alone.” your own words haunted you since the day snow had presented evidence of their murders. you didn’t dare flinch in his presence, holding a strong facade that you didn’t care, that they were beneath you.

as he left, irritated at your refusal to comply, letting ideas stir in his head with what to do with you, you broke down. tears shed as you realized that they were gone because of you, because you couldn’t let your anger go.

but snow liked you, he must’ve had a reason to keep you around for so long, and until just a few days ago, you hadn’t known why.

you breathed deeply as you heard your name called. it was deja vu, and suddenly you were back to the thirteen year old girl, who was so emaciated and starved that when her name was called, she believed she was hallucinating.

you looked crudely into the screen, not offering any smiles or sign of pride that you had been reaped, all over again.

“y/n l/n.” hearing your full name made you turn around immediately. you were slightly blinded by his blonde hair and pearly white smile.

“finnick odair.” you realized who the man was, quicker than you’d admit. the last time you had seen him was at a ridiculous capital party that snow had forced you to attend. finnick had been leaned against a wall, with two capital sluts hanging onto his shoulders, whispering in his ears simultaneously.

he smiled, not surprised that you didn’t say anything else besides his name. you had that tendency about you, to shoot down any attempt at conversation. even going as far to avoid it all together. “i’m glad you haven’t tried to run away, not after i had caught you eyes and you dashed off at that party. how long ago was that? three,” his speech hung onto the words, “four?”

“five months. it’s been five months, finnick.” you remembered his gaze, and remembered how your feet made you run at the sight. you had heard stories about finnick, and you weren’t exactly planning on ever talking to him.

“that’s right.” he smiled, “i hope you’ve been well since then. it was nice seeing you in something other than a bloody shirt.” his gaze suddenly seemed very far away, as if he was remembering exactly what you wore that night.

you shrugged, deciding to change topics, “everyone else is polishing their weapons,” you heard a guttural war cry, and saw another tribute lunge at a partner, “and methods.” finnick turned to the source of the cry and laughed slightly, “oh yeah? what’s your choice of weapon, again?”

“knives. anything long and sharp.” you always had an affinity for knives. it was second nature to you, an art of your district. your mind drifted away slightly to the array of knives that you had collected during your games. every tribute that you had slaughtered had a knife, and you collected them as a token. by the end, you had 23 knives, all representing a kill.

it had been upsetting when you went on your victory tour, to see the look on their family’s faces, but you had blurred out their emotions, and at the height of your submission to snow, had given out the same apathetic speech to every district.

finnick watched as your mind drifted back to reality. wherever you had gone for the better half of a minute, was a place finnick spent every waking moment, running away from.

he grabbed your shoulder, squeezing it slightly as he looked into your eyes, whispering your name, “hey, hey.” you focused on his eyes, gaze shifting to his mouth as they shaped the syllables of your name. you swallowed thickly, “im sorry-i…” you pulled away, his hand falling free of your shoulder. finnick watched as you exited the training room, your hands balled up into fists as you disappeared through the doorway.

“absolutely not.” you had spent your childhood under the thumb of one man, and you had barely made it out from under snow’s. this was only another way to get you under it once more.

finnick had his head bowed, having listened to snow’s pitch to make the two of you a couple. he needed something to distract the capital citizens from peeta and katniss, who everyone knew, was just a thorn in snow’s side.

“my dear, i really don’t think you have a choice in the matter.” snow’s eyes narrowed at you and you sighed, “what else is there left for you to do? im already being marched to my death, again, just speed the process up. poison me like you do the rest.” you took a good jab at one of the many secrets you had obtained, living in his cage.

snow laughed, “i would’ve done that a long time ago, y/n.”

just as you were beginning to argue again, finnick looked up, eyes catching yours. he held your gaze for a minute, blinking his wet eyes at you. there was something that was telling you that this wasn’t just about you.

finnick.

oh how could you forget finnick.

there was something clearly at stake for him too, otherwise why had he remained silent this entire time?

compliance was something he had to get used to, also under snow’s control.

“okay, fine.” you felt yourself swallow bile, “i’ll do it.” you looked at finnick, your future husband, and the reason why you were even agreeing.

“why did you do it?” his voice cracked, a raw noise as he looked over at you. you had been silent the whole time since leaving the meeting with snow. you shuddered with the strong winds, having been sat out on the stoop of the building, housing all the reaped former victors.

you looked at finnick, having caught his gaze, holding it for a moment, “my entire life i’ve been selfish, and i guess i realized that it isn’t always about putting myself first.” you knew the stories, heard the rumors. snow had barely played with the idea, making you like finnick, but you had always refused. there was nothing left for him to leverage, and so it never went anywhere.

but this, pairing the two of you was nothing short of cruel. finnick who has everything to lose, with you, who he probably didn’t expect to agree.

finnick hitched a breath, understanding what you weren’t saying. “thank you.” he breathed, “and im sorry.”

you stood up suddenly, nodding as you turned towards the entrance, “just-“ you cut yourself off, waving a hand as you continued inside.

he made the announcement. finnick had decided that with the pull he has on the capital, that he would be the one to do it. especially since he was so beloved, the attention from it was to challenge katniss and peeta’s.

you had agreed to play the part, and now you had to act like it.

there was loud cheering and applause from the crowd, and you were pushed out onto the stage, more cheers erupting as finnick stood up to meet you halfway. you kissed his cheek, grabbing his hand tightly as you two fluttered across the stage.

caesar flickerman was already standing there with a bright, capitol smile. “this is your lovely bride. we hear the honeymoon is the arena?” he looked at finnick who tipped his head back for a laugh, but didn’t answer outright.

you gave a soft laugh, “we just loved each other so much, we couldn’t wait.”

caesar looked at you, as if remembering who you were exactly, “wow.” he seemed truly amazed, perhaps even shocked.

finnick noticed the heaviness in the interview and turned his head at caesar, trying to keep the attention on the union rather than the individuals.

he grabbed your hand suddenly, clutching it tightly. as he held it for the rest of the interview, you staring at the faces in the crowd, more love struck than you, you wondered if he was trying to comfort you or himself.

“finnick.” you looked around behind you, only seeing peeta in front of you. the first few days in the arena had been a blur. you had stuck by close with finnick, who made it his mission to stay close to katniss. there was something he wasn’t telling you, but you didn’t once doubt him.

“finnick?” you whipped your head around and couldn’t find him. you were always in front of him, so he could remain in his eye line at all times. except you had failed to make sure he was in yours.

your ears started ringing as the panic set in. you scanned the trees and couldn’t find any sign of him or katniss, realizing this as peeta shared your same panicked look. your throat felt tight as you screamed his name, “finnick!” peeta suddenly took off, feet blazing towards more greenery. you had no choice but to follow, knowing finnick would’ve had you stick with peeta.

as you barely caught up to peeta, you saw him hit the floor as you ran up. whatever he had bounced off of was holding katniss and finnick back.

you looked at finnick, unable to catch his eyes as he looked up frantically. there was something you were missing, there were just bir-

“jabberjays.” peeta groaned out, “they can’t hear us, but they hear our screams.” he swallowed thickly, resting near the force field. katniss was knelt down at the edge, eyes tightly shut. you stared at finnick, at a loss for words. the panic in his face looked so real, you wondered who he was hearing.

you tore your eyes away, watching him suffer was not something you had signed up for. you felt defeated, unable to do anything as you and peeta sat like sitting ducks, waiting this torture out.

you hadn’t talked to him since the jabberjays. peeta had comforted katniss, in any way she’d let him. but they were different, you and finnick were different.

yes, you were married, he was your husband. but the issue was, you hadn’t much time to even begin to share intimate details, let alone have a good conversation. this was what snow wanted, an empty marriage to stir up all the attention.

except you knew your performance was failing. the audience could see right through you.

“hey.” finnick had snuck up on you. you had stayed a few feet away from him and the others, unsure how to handle it all. but it seems like finnick was trying to make it work. but it should be the other way around.

“finnick.” you breathed a sigh of relief unintentionally, hoping he didn’t catch on, you watched as he sat down on the sand beside you. he grabbed your hand, and for a moment you thought it to be genuine, until he raised an eyebrow.

right.

“i’m so sorry.” your voice hitched, and finnick steadied his gaze, “seeing you like that-“ you faked a choked sob, “i just couldn’t do it. i couldn’t look at you and see-“ you cut yourself off, throwing your head in your hands.

snow had to be happy that you were selling yourself off to protect finnick. but beside that heart to heart you had with him in the beginning, you had nothing else to go off of.

“i heard you.” finnick’s voice cracked, “you were screaming, these terrible, horrible screams.” he shook his head, as if he were hearing them all over again, making you realize that he was telling the truth. “and it wouldn’t stop.” he breathed. his breathing got harder and you found yourself kissing him to make him stop. finnick panted into the kiss, as if you had grounded him. you pulled back, catching his eye as you looked away.

your hand that he had been holding gripped his harder. you looked out into the water, watching as it’s dangerous waters moved, unsure on how you would survive this.

with or without him.

#finnick odair fluff #finnick x you #finnick odair oneshots #finnick odair angst #finnick x reader #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair smut #thg finnick #thg #thg angst #thg x reader #finnick imagine #hunger games finnick #finnick odair #finnick x y/n #finnick odair x you #thg imagine #thg smut #thg fanfiction

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