#Asks prompts

[lestappenforever]

Hiiii, I don’t know if you’re still doing the lestappen prompts but how about the second one?

2. “Please?” “Those eyes won’t work on me this time.”

Ask, and you shall receive, my sweet. ❤️

---

2. "Please?" "Those eyes won't work on me this time."

"Please?" Charles asks again, looking up at Max from beneath those ridiculously long, full eyelashes.

His green eyes are shining in the gleam of the fluorescent lights above their heads.

"No," Max says, looking away from Charles and glaring at the man standing next to him instead.

He knew this had been a bad idea. Had known it the second Charles spotted the sign of the animal shelter. Had known it the moment Charles had convinced him to go inside, 'just to have a look, Max, I promise'. Felt it in his gut as Charles had spotted the three-legged shiba inu puppy with the big, brown eyes and gasped. Started regretting every life decision that had lead him to this point as the shelter worker had opened the door to let Charles into the pen.

The puppy had climbed into Charles' lap the instant the Monégasque had sat down on the floor, and now there were two pairs of puppy eyes looking up at him.

Only one set of them belongs to an actual puppy.

"Please?"

"Those eyes won't work on me this time," Max tells him with a huff, crossing his arms across his chest.

"But Max, look at him," Charles insists, as if that's the issue here. As if Max hasn't seen the puppy and isn't aware of how cute he is.

Max is aware, thank you very much.

"Charles, we can't adopt a puppy. The cats would hate it. The puppy would hate it," he points out.

The shelter worker decides to pipe up at that.

"Actually, this one has lived with cats before and he loved it."

Max glares at him again, and the man promptly stops talking.

"Max, please."

"No."

Charles sticks his bottom lip out in a pout. He looks ridiculous and Max kind of hates him.

"Pretty please?"

"We're not getting the damn puppy, Charles. End of story."

It's the end of the discussion, and Max feels confident that he's managed to get through to Charles this time.

Until Charles' bottom lip fucking wobbles, and Max is desperately trying to understand how this has become his life.

---

Charles names him Emilian, and Jimmy and Sassy fucking adore him.

Because yeah, they end up getting the damn puppy.

[evanpeterswifeyyy]

when you get this, list 5 songs you like to listen to, publish. then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers<3

Yaaayy!!! Jackie!!! ☺️☺️🖤

1. Red Wine Supernova - Chappell Roan

2. The Subway - Chappell Roan

3. I Know It’s Over - The Smiths

4. How Soon Is Now - The Smiths

5. Something Lacking - Capcom Sound Team

[justenoughlight]

Hyperfixation/SpIn asks

🤩- What's your current most prominent hyperfixation?

😍- What's your favorite/most prominent special interest?

🤨- What's your weirdest/strangest hyperfixation/SpIn?

🤯- Tell us one of your favorite facts about your hyperfixations/SpIns

🫂- Which hyperfixation/SpIn(s) do you wish you had more people with the same interest to talk to about it?

🪶- What's your most niche interest/hyperfixation, and can you tell us about it?

⚠️- What's the hyperfixation or SpIn that you can't talk about because it makes people concerned or put off?

📕- What's the hyperfixation or SpIn that you could write a whole essay about in less than three hours without even thinking about what to write?

🥰- What's your favorite hyperfixation or SpIn you've ever had?

😑- What's your least favorite hyperfixation or SpIn you've ever had?

⏳- What's the longest hyperfixation you've ever had? (How long did it last before fading?)

⏱️- What's the shortest hyperfixation you've ever had?

———

Optional: askers can include: 🍄- Feel free to infodump in your answer!; 🪐- No preference either way; ❌- please don't infodump when responding to this ask

[lazylittledragon]

at the friday panel andrew wincott said raphael and astarion should go on holiday together and i can’t stop thinking about it

[cityandking]

oc asks: not-so-nice edition

alone: How does your OC deal with loneliness? Have they ever been completely alone before? How do they act when there's no one around to see them?

betrayal: Has your OC ever been betrayed by someone they thought they could trust? Has your OC ever betrayed someone who trusted them?

bound: Has your OC ever been imprisoned or captured? What happened? How did they get out? Did the experience leave any scars?

break: What would cause your OC to break down completely? What do they look like when that happens? Has anyone ever seen them at their lowest?

desire: What's one thing your OC wants more than anything in the world? Are they open with that desire? Why or why not? What would they do to fulfill it?

failure: What's your OC's greatest failure? Have they been able to move past it? Does anyone else know about it?

fear: What is your OC's greatest fear? What do they do when confronted with it? Are they open with their fear, or do they hide it away?

future: What's the worst possible future for your OC? Are they taking steps to avoid that outcome? Are they even aware it's a possibility?

ghost: Who or what haunts your OC? What happened? How do they live with their ghosts?

guilt: What is your OC guilty about? How do they handle their guilt? Do they try to avoid guilt, or do they accept it?

hate: What does your OC hate? Why? How do they act towards the object of their hatred?

heartbreak: Have they ever had a relationship that ended badly? Experienced some other kind of heartbreak? What happened?

hide: What does your OC hide? Why do they hide it?

hunt: Who or what is your OC hunted by? A person, a feeling, a past mistake? Is your OC able to let their guard down, or are they constantly alert?

mask: Does your OC wear a mask, literally or figuratively? What goes on beneath it? Is there anyone in their life who gets to see who they are under the mask?

midnight: What keeps your OC up at night? Do they have nightmares? Fears? Anxieties? What do they do in the small hours of the morning when they should be sleeping?

mistake: What's the worst mistake your OC ever made? What led to them making it? Have they been able to fix it? How have they moved on?

monster: Is your OC monstrous in any way? Is there something that makes them monstrous? Are they aware of their own monstrosity? Do they accept it or reject it?

nightmare: What does your OC have nightmares about? How do they deal with their nightmares? Do they tell people, or keep it to themself?

pain: What's the worst pain your OC has ever felt? Do they have a high pain tolerance?

secret: What's one secret your OC never wants anyone to know about them?

skin: How comfortable is your OC in their skin? Do they grapple with anything that lives inside them—a beast, a curse, a failure, a monster? How do they face the smallest, weakest, most horrible version of themself? Are they able to acknowledge it at all?

torture: Has your OC ever been tortured? Would your OC ever torture someone else?

wound: How does your OC handle being wounded? Are their wounds mostly physical? Mental? Emotional? What's the worst wound your OC has ever experienced?

[plumbum-art]

Hello so i hope this isn't to much of a bother I saw your post and can you do a doodle just with aziraphale or crowley I'm fine with either holding a kitten I hope this isn't to vague I just like the idea of either of them holding a kitten cause I like kittens and I like good omens sorry if this is awkward I'm not the best at typing stuff out but either way I'm hoping your doing well and have a amazing day or night :)

thank you so much for your request! i got carried away a bit though lol

[unboundprompts]

body language descriptions please?

(eg: she cocked her head)

thank you 💗💗💗

Body Language Descriptions

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

Anxiety/Nervousness

She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, her fingers tugging nervously at the fabric as she struggled to find the right words.

They bit their lower lip.

He looked away, unable to meet her gaze, a clear indication of his guilt.

She absentmindedly rubbed her neck.

He chewed his nails, a nervous habit that he couldn't seem to quit.

They rubbed their hands together nervously.

He tightened his jaw.

She felt beads of sweat forming on her brow, betraying her calm facade as her heart raced.

Frustration/Impatience

Their fists clenched at their sides.

He tapped his fingers rhythmically against the table, a clear sign of impatience as he waited for her to finish.

He rolled his eyes, the gesture full of exasperation as he dismissed her words.

She let out a heavy sigh, the sound heavy with resignation as she faced the inevitable.

He threw his hands up in defeat.

Curiosity

He leaned forward in his chair, eager to hear more, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

She raised an eyebrow, her expression skeptical as she questioned his intentions.

She tilted her head slightly.

He watched intently, his eyes wide with wonder as he took in every detail of her story.

Confidence/Assertiveness

He stood tall with his shoulders back, projecting confidence even in the face of uncertainty.

They sat on the edge of their seat.

She gestured wildly, her hands moving animatedly as she tried to express her excitement.

He stood with his hands on his hips, exuding an air of authority and control over the situation.

They held their chin up high, projecting self-assurance even in the face of adversity.

Defensiveness/Resignation

He crossed his arms over his chest, a defensive posture that spoke volumes about his discomfort.

He braced himself against the wall, a protective stance.

She folded her hands in her lap, a sign of restraint as she fought the urge to speak.

They shrank back slightly, their shoulders hunching as if trying to make themselves smaller in the face of criticism.

He held his breath momentarily, steeling himself for the inevitable conflict he sensed was coming.

She covered her face with her hands, overwhelmed by the situation as she tried to block out the world.

Thoughtfulness/Concentration

She furrowed her brow in concentration, her mind clearly racing as she tried to solve the problem at hand.

She nodded slowly, processing the information, her expression thoughtful and contemplative.

He stared blankly into space, lost in thought as he processed what had just been revealed.

He drummed his fingers on the table, the rhythmic sound a sign of his deep contemplation.

She tapped her foot lightly, her mind racing.

Eagerness/Excitement

He paced back and forth, his restless energy manifesting in the constant movement as he considered his options.

She bent forward, her elbows resting on her knees, a sign of intimacy and engagement in the conversation.

She swayed slightly from side to side, a subconscious display of her nervous energy as she waited for the verdict.

He bounced on his toes, his excitement palpable.

She jumped up and down, a spontaneous display of her joy that couldn’t be contained.

[mischievous-thunder]

The morning after Althea had to spend yet another sleepless night because of the two freaks:

Meanwhile Logan:

P.S. Neither of the two idiots was drunk.

[wickcipher]

Botanically speaking, yeah cucumbers are fruits huh

[puppetmaster13u]

You know what I need more of? The Batkids completely fucking with the Justice League and their rogues and coming up with stories for their existence.

Like I am talking about the creation of demigods sort of stories, like Loki sort of stories.

Duke has convinced all of Gotham that he's the Bat Signal brought to life and that's why he's never seen at night and why the signal literally doesn't work during the day. He's waiting giddily for the story to spread outside of the city.

The batkids have convinced half the League that Nightwing is quite literally Batman's lovechild with Justice. Hey, Constantine had a one night stand with the manifestation of a city and they've dealt with gods before, so surely it's not that surprising? Right???

I need more of the Batkids being little shits, of Alfred the-greatest-enabler Pennyworth backing them up and Bat(the-biggest-troll)man to never confirm the stories, but he doesn't deny them either.

[lestappenforever]

Omg after watching the Charles post race interviews from the Hungarian GP I feel like I need 8 and 37 for established lestappen 😭

Bestie, the way my heart has fucking shattered over and over again for Charles this weekend. The sadness in his eyes after the race is just devastating. 😭

8. and 37. for established Lestappen coming right up! ❤️

You're also getting a bonus 19. "Can I play with your hair?" and 20. "C'mere sweetheart."

---

8. "Relax. I've got you.", 37. "Oh, baby... c'mere...", 19. "Can I play with your hair?", and 20. "C'mere, sweetheart."

The Hungarian Grand Prix adds another crushing blow to Charles' never-ending list of crushing blows in 2023.

Qualifying P5 wasn't ideal, but it could have been worse. A lot worse. Charles went into the Sunday hopeful — confident — he could overtake Zhou early, and then set his sights on Lando and Oscar. And he did.

But everything went to shit after that.

The absolute low point of the day — and there were quite a few to choose from, including the ridiculously slow pit stop — was Xavi telling him they'd discuss the race strategy at the end of the race.

The race strategy for this race. When they were smack dab in the fucking middle of it, and Charles had ideas that could take him to a higher position if the team would just fucking listen to him.

He wants to laugh when Xavi tells him good job at the end of the race.

A P7 finish after a P5 start is not a good result. But he supposes that his engineer thinks so just sums up their season altogether.

When he's roped in for his post-race interviews, Charles feels frustrated and sad and tired. He's just so fucking tired of everything.

He's tired of every race feeling like a fucking struggle with a car that can't seem to perform the way Charles needs it to. He's tired of having a team around him that won't listen to a word he says, and seem to have made it their life's mission to screw him over with their strategy one way or another, every single race. He's tired of feeling like with every passing week, another team outperforms them and passes them in the overall standings.

But most of all, he's tired of feeling like he's not enough. That nothing he does will ever be enough. Even though he knows, deep down, that he's not at fault for the way this terrible season is turning out.

Because Charles will never not blame himself. It's in his blood, his genes, his very soul.

Once he finishes his media duties, Charles retreats to his driver's room and is fully intent on staying there until the paddock is as close to empty as possible.

He doesn't even have the energy to change out of his racesuit, only unzipping it and pushing the top half down to expose his fireproofs. Then, he just sits on the floor with his head in his hands.

He doesn't cry, though. There have been so many tears already this season that Charles doesn't think he has any left at this point.

Charles convinces himself that's a good thing.

As he sits on the floor of his driver's room, staring ahead without seeing anything, Charles feels nothing.

---

"You need to see this," Lando tells Max as they wait to be called in for their post-race press conference, handing his phone over.

Max takes it with a frown, looking down at the screen as Lando taps the screen to start the video.

Charles' face stares back at him, and the Monégasque looks so fucking tired, so fucking sad, that it makes Max feel sick. His eyes are shining with tears Max knows won't spill. He watches the way Charles wipes at his face, touches his mouth, licks his lips, rubs at the back of his neck, looks away from the interviewer and the camera as he talks about the race.

It's every tell-tale sign of the chaos going on in Charles' mind — in his heart.

He's doubting himself, blaming himself, trying his damnedest to find a way to shift the fault of the race to himself as opposed to where the blame truly lies: With the team.

It's infuriating, and Max kind of wishes Lando hadn't shown him this now, before the press conference. Because now Max needs to pretend like he isn't thinking about Charles as he sits with Lando and Checo on that couch, answering questions about his own race.

Max sighs as the interview finishes, and he hands Lando his phone back just as a woman comes out to collect them.

Behind him, Checo pats his shoulder in sympathy.

"Do you think he's okay?" the Mexican asks quietly, low enough for only Max to hear him.

And Max sighs again, shaking his head. "Would you be?"

Checo doesn't answer, but that's answer enough.

---

When Max lets himself into Charles' driver's room after the press conference, the Monégasque is still sitting on the floor, staring blankly ahead.

Max shuts the door behind him and goes to sit next to him on the floor. He waits.

When a full minute passes and Charles doesn't speak, Max reaches out to take one of Charles' hands from where it's danglig limply between his bent knees, lacing their fingers together.

The contact makes something dislodge in Charles, and the numbness that's been holding him together disappears, replaced by every heartbreaking emotion he's been trying so hard to ignore. His shoulders begin to shake as the tears Charles was sure he was all out of well up in his eyes and spill down his cheeks.

Max sees it right away, because of course he does.

"Oh baby... C'mere," he says without missing a beat, letting go of Charles' hand in favor of curling his arm around Charles' shoulders and pulling him against his chest.

"C'mere, sweetheart."

Charles goes willingly, turning slightly on the floor so he can press his face into Max's chest, tears wetting the fabric of Max's fireproofs. He curls a hand in the fabric by his face, holding on for dear life, as Max's other arm wraps around him, too, holding him close.

And he cries. Flat-out sobs against Max, his heart breaking over and over again in his chest as the sheer hopelessness of the situation washes over him for what feels like the millionth time this season.

Max kisses his head, again and again, as Charles trembles violently against him.

"Relax," Max whispers into his hair, tightening his hold around the Ferrari driver. "I've got you."

It's said like a promise, and Charles knows he means it like one.

It takes Charles a long time to get his bearings enough to make his voice work, but eventually, he manages a whisper.

"Can I play with your hair?"

Max is already pushing the orange cap off his head before Charles can finish the sentence.

"Of course you can," he murmurs, as he wraps his arm back around Charles.

Charles lets go of Max's fireproof shirt to reach up, tangling his fingers in the blond strands and toying with them. It’s an act he always finds to be incredibly soothing, and it helps calm his racing mind.

The fact that Max fucking loves it too is a nice bonus, as the Red Bull driver lets out a pleased hum.

It won't make it all better. Won't make the pain stop or make the devastation of it all go away.

But amidst what is shaping out to be a truly horrible year for Charles, Max is the only constant he knows he will never have to worry about. Because Max loves Charles more than he loves anything else, and Charles loves Max just the same.

It won't fix anything. But it will make it bearable.

And at the end of the day, that's all that matters.

[evanpeterswifeyyy]

21 <3

“21: What you love most about yourself”

My eyes.

I have hazel eyes, but they do this cool thing where they reflect certain light differently, so sometimes my eyes are brown, hazel, green or auburn. ❣️

[soursoppi]

redheads in ribbons, gotta be my favourite gender

[sunniepoo]

plsplspls more mean and icky stepbro!rafe x innocent/pure!reader 🙏 i lovee the way u write him 💕💕

maybe something like stebro!rafe teaching r how to kiss n get herself off n all that orr maybe sleepy sex <3

౨ৎ 🍓｡˚🍰♡ ˚₊‧ ︎

“ngh-uh” you pant, body restless as your fingers sloppily slip in and out of your dripping cunt. you’ve never felt like this, never felt so desperate; so unexplainably horny

you hadn’t expected the whine that left your mouth to come at the high volume that it did, but you were just so frustrated; your fingers weren’t hitting that one spot you craved them to. when all your friends said they did this , you expected it would be easy, not like this

all your thoughts were interrupted as a harsh knock on the door followed by the booming voice of rafe caused you to scramble, finding a spare top and shorts to chuck on before answering

“jesuuus christ open the door already” the older blonde shouts, pounding the door aggressively

you rush and open the door slightly to reveal the frame of a shirtless, messy haired rafe - you could see the slight pop of the veins in his arms and most importantly the bulge in his pants. “what’s taking you so long” you couldn’t miss the slight smirk and teasing tone coating his voice “hm?” he questions again

“uh-j-just” the natural panic was evident in your eyes as they widened and your eyebrow raised like a deer caught in headlights “ just tired”

you couldn’t help the groan that comes out as he enters your room. “raaafe” your whine to stop him falls on deaf ears as he sits on your bed. “please leave” you huff out, just desperate to get back to working your pussy away and get the release you’ve been dying for; he was ruining everything

“c’mon sit” the older cameron pats of his lap, calling you over as if you were his little puppy “raafe please go” you would’ve typically never gave this much attitude to the brooding male, him acknowledging your presence was a once in a lifetime thing

“don’t make me repeat myself” despite his menacing tone his gaze was enchanting, you’ve never understood how someone so beautiful could be so cruel at times.

with a couple of huffs and puffs you find yourself making your way over to the tall blond, making yourself home at one of his legs as the large surface of his palm guided you onto him.you had to bite back the whimper that threatened to leave your mouth as your clit rubbed against the front of his leg

it was confusing to say the least - why was he being so nice? but you were just a girl and it was so so so tempting to just lean back into the chest of the older cameron , letting his warmth fill you

you could feel his warm breath fall up on your shoulders, tingling the bottom of your ears “w-what are you doing here” you finally breathe out, finding it impossibly hard to not just rub against his leg

“just wanted to let you know that our rooms are right next to each other” he whispers, it was so oddly sensual and it couldn’t help but make your poor little pussy clench and pulse around nothing. it made your head tumble you shouldn’t feel this way about him; not your new big brother

“i already know tha-” you start but are interrupted by the boy beneath you, eyes looking at you intently while his fingers dance along your waist

“and the walls aren’t as thick as you think, so you know i hear everything”

oh!

you were speechless - quite literally, you opened your mouth to say something and nothing but a small squeak came out and before you know it tears were welling up and your eyes as you were starting to breakdown

“hey hey hey” he rushes to speak, rubbing a what was meant to be soothing arm across the sides of you but only causes you to hide in shame “don’t stress… i came here to tell you that i can y’know help” his fingers making their way down to your thighs, sliding up to cup your pussy “just some lessons”

“what” you didn’t expect your words to come out so harshly, as you look at him with wide curious eyes - could he really?

and that’s how you found yourself legs spread open, with rafe cameron fingers rubbing on your sensitive little clit, one finger slipping into your cunt reaching oh so deep. they had turned less into lesson but more into your older stepbrother straight up fingering you in your bed

“oooooh” you moan out, his finger knuckle deep in your needy little pussy hitting places you couldn’t even imagine “feels so ngh- good” he couldn’t help but stick another finger into your wet cunt watching your head go to complete bliss as it clenches desperately around the length of his fingers while he gently pistons them in and out

“could make you feel like this all the time” he breathes out, his own hard on grinding against the plump of your ass “little sluts like you love it”

the coarse whine that left your mouth signalled your upset as you looked at him wide eyed with your lips pouting. the breathy laugh that leaves him is followed by a soft kiss to the tops of your head “s’kay you’re my little slut”

“i-i ngh- don’t think” you could barely make out words as his fingers speed up to an impossibly fast pace, the coil in your stomach was starting to loosen and oh it felt so good! “w-we should do this agai-” the moan that left your mouth was almost pornographic, heaving loudly as his thumb goes to harshly rub on your clit

“hm and why is that” he teases increasing his pace and pressure, hitting all the right spots - this was so so wrong

“you’re family; you’re my stepbrother” you felt yourself finally get closer, like that ache was finally going to be cured- he must’ve had magic in his fingers with the way he was making you feel

and just as that coil in your stomach was about to unfold, he stops and even with your grinding against him and the endless whimpers he doesn’t continue

“why did you stop?” the question comes out a lot more pathetic than you expected, “well you said it, we shouldn’t be doing this, so i guess i’ll just g-” despite his words he makes no efforts to leave but that doesn’t stop your from whining and holding him tightly

“no no no…. i didn’t mean it” you admit, voice all weak and needy - all you want-no needed was him to fuck you with his fingers all messy and mean, there was no point in trying to hide it

“that’s my girl” the soft kiss is a stark contrast to the rough and nasty pistoning of his fingers, messing up your poor cunt but bringing you closer to your high

“yes yes yes” you thanked god that no one was home tonight as the loud moan left your mouth as your cunt clenched tightly around his fingers, your high washing over you - leaving you putty in his arms

maybe rafe wasn’t so mean after all

౨ৎ 🍓｡˚🍰♡ ˚₊‧ ︎

[urfriendlywriter]

How to write angst ?

@urfriendlywriter | req by @everynowandthenihaveacrisis @aidyaiden :)

know your character. from their deepest fears to what they cherish the most. know your deepest fear, ask yourself how you will react and feel at that moment. "oh shit, if this happened to me I'll lose my mind" what's that type of scenario for you? write it. :)

decide on the type of angst you are going for!

major, minor, physical, emotional, paranormal, spiritual, verbal, abusive, quarrel, misunderstanding, etc.

and then, decide on--what reaction you can take out of your character by doing what to them.

are they gonna be, held at a gunpoint to give something up? or have their soul wrecked by whom they thought were close to them? or is it going be horror, or etctec, decide on it.

moving on to actually writing it-

Tip 1 - Use sensory details.

her eyes brimmed with tears

his chest heaved

pain clawed at his heart, as his face twisted with hurt

his scream pierced my heart

her lips quivered

she dug her nails into her palms (to distract herself, to stop it from shaking, etc)

show what is happening to ur MC, instead of telling it.

Tip 2 - how to actually write it.

If they're panicking, make them notice too many things at once, show every detail that they're seeing, feeling, from touch, to that burning sensation on their eyes, the blood on the ground, that dryness of their throat, the buzzing in their head and their parted lips unable to trust their own sight, and--and, boom! have them register that they're really really in trouble. and that they've to act fast.

use short, very minimal type of writing for this. make it long, but not long enough that it feels like it's being dragged.

the readers should hold themselves back from skimming the page out of curiousity, they should be in their toes to find out what happens next.

what does your MC do in times of panic? do they chant calm down to themselves, do they get angry, or start crying.. or?? what makes your character genuinely feel an emotion so hard that they'll burst?

there's always something, someone that'll always give them love and easily can be that something or someone to take it away. yk.

Tip 3 - crying.

what is close to your character that u can deprive them of? will it make them cry? beg for it?

what will make ur character cry so hard, that their scream fills everyone's ear, stays in their minds like ghosts and always haunts them?

make a character who never cries, burst out with tears.

while writing crying, focus on the 5 senses, one after the other.

focus it on their breath, make them run out of breath, gasp for air, feel like they're being choked, cry so scrutinizingly. it shud punch the reader's gut.

have them replay what had just happened over and over again in their head

best books and writing styles (for angst) to analyse and learn from (in my opinion);

3rd book in the AGGTM series (yk it hit hard like a truck. it got me depressed in bed the entire time lmao)

Five Survive by Holly Jackson. The moments of red outside of the truck, and moments leading to it.

there's this book called " Warm by @untalentedwriter127 " in wattpad. the author served angst for breakfast, lunch anddd dinner.

and if there's more angsty ones, drop em in the comments! :)

Hope this helps, tag me when yall write a masterpiece! ;)

[plumbum-art]

Forehead kisses pretty pls 🥺