#FUCK SOULMATES IF I DON'T HAVE WHAT THEY HAVE

[phoebeegreen3]

Capri Persson (F1) ⸺ 02. I DON'T WANNA TALK

🏎 SUMMARY: What if the best driver of recent years isn't actually him? What if the best driver is actually hiding something else? Would he still be the best? Or just a simple fraud? 📓 GENRE: secret identity / rivals to lovers / he felt first, she felt harder / soulmates / slow burn 📧 WORD COUNT: 2118 📬 PARTS: book one (two parts) / CP9, book two (one part) 🏁TAGLIST: @heyyurl @dreadity @moonchouus @wierdflowerpower @anunstablefangirl @deaddumblbumble @a-bbles (let me know in the comments if you want to be part) 🏆 CAPRIPERSSON.MASTERLIST

Saudi Arabian GP, Middle East. March, 2023

“Shit,” I muttered. “Shit, shit, shit,” I repeated and ran to grab my bag from a couch in the motorhome. I frantically rummaged through my backpack, pulling everything out, looking for what I needed. I opened the smallest pockets and searched, entering a full-blown crisis. This shouldn’t be happening to me. Why couldn’t I just be regular?

I hurried to look for something in the bathroom, but there was no sign of tampons or pads either. I couldn’t just use toilet paper, and my pants were already stained. How could I expect the bathroom to be stocked with basic women’s products if it was supposed to be used by a man? Who would even think that a woman from the team might need pads? Right?

“Fuck!” I screamed through clenched teeth, frustrated, glancing at the clock on my phone. I was running late for Saturday’s qualifying. Jean was in a meeting, and I wasn’t going to call Franz about this. I had to fix it on my own.

I looked at my pants once more in the mirror and checked every surface I had leaned against to make sure I hadn’t stained anything else. At a glance, I didn't see any mess, so that was good — meanwhile, I still had a red stain on my butt. I had started putting on my uniform when I noticed, and I hated that feeling. I hadn’t brought any pads because, clearly, I must have a sign on my forehead that says "idiot." How was that even possible?

I thought about my options. The nearest bathroom was in the paddock, among all the spectators, across the alley. But I didn’t trust that it would have pads available either. Of course, this could only happen to me, and right when I was most in a rush.

I hadn’t brought any jacket either, so I grabbed a notebook I found in the motorhome and ran toward the paddock alley. I was desperate. I couldn’t be late for qualifying over something like this — I couldn’t allow it.

Holding the notebook behind me, covering my backside, I almost ran across the large dining hall we all shared and hurried into the bathrooms, grateful that no one was there since qualifying was about to begin. But to my disappointment, the women’s bathroom didn’t have any pad or tampon dispensers. I wanted to die right there. Toilet paper just wouldn’t be enough — I couldn’t race like that.

“Oh,” I heard someone murmur behind me in a pitying tone, and I realized I hadn’t kept the notebook covering the stain on my pants. When I turned around, it was a girl with chocolate-colored hair and tanned skin. Her hair was long and beautiful, and the way she stood showed a certain elegance, clearly reflected in her outfit.

“Sorry,” I apologized as if I had done something wrong. The girl looked back at me after turning away. I didn’t know what to do, and somehow, I felt extremely embarrassed.

“You don’t have to apologize. It happens to all of us,” she smiled kindly, but I was starting to feel the cramps in my body. “I don’t know if I should ask, but... do you need help? Do you have pads or tampons? These places don’t even bother to have good hand soap.”

“You would save my life if you did,” I confessed, lowering my gaze and holding onto the sink.

“No need to say it twice,” she smiled and placed her bag on the sink, approaching me and searching inside it. “My name’s Carmen. Yours?”

“America,” I answered.

“Beautiful name. I can totally picture having a daughter named America,” she smiled as she searched. “America Russell-Mundt,” she murmured very quietly with a playful smile. I frowned.

“Russell?” I asked, and she looked up.

“Pads or tampons?”

“Whatever you have.”

“I’ll give you both, just in case. Take them,” she offered, and I slipped into one of the stalls. “Do you want me to see if I can find you another pair of pants or something?” she asked from outside, and I thought about it for a second.

“Would you do that for me?”

“Oh, honey. Don’t even doubt it. I’ll be back as soon as I can, alright? It’ll be quick.”

And so it was. Carmen showed up just as fast as I was beating myself up over the situation and passed a pair of black Mercedes track pants under the stall door.

“Hope you’re not a Red Bull fan,” she laughed, and I smiled, taking them. So she was Carmen Mundt. Jean had a bit of an obsession with Carmen’s style, although I always ended up dressing like a French philosophy student.

I changed as quickly as I could and came out to wash my hands. Carmen was still there.

“Better?” she asked.

“Way better. I don’t know how to thank you, if you hadn’t walked in, I probably would’ve stayed there forever. I didn’t even bring my phone from the desperation,” I shook my head, frustrated.

“Don’t worry, Am. This happens to all of us; you don’t have to be embarrassed. Plus, those pants look fantastic on you. I think I should give you more merch.”

“Oh no, don’t even try,” I laughed. “Mercedes is having a bit of an underwhelming season.”

“Are you a fan or do you work here?” she asked, half-curious and half-amused.

“Kind of both,” I dried my hands and glanced at the wall clock in the bathroom. “Well, Carmen, I should go. I don’t know how to thank you enough for what you did for me.”

“Don’t mention it. We’re women — that’s what we do.”

“I’ll make sure to send you something to thank you, don’t doubt it,” I squeezed her hand before leaving. “Bye!” I waved and ran back to my motorhome to change and head to qualifying.

*** *** ***

“You have no idea what happened to me today,” I told Jean as we left the motorhome.

“I leave you alone for two seconds, and you get your period? What kind of attention-seeking technique is that?” she joked, and I couldn’t help laughing as I proceeded to tell her about Carmen.

“You told her your name was America?” Jean frowned, questioning exactly what I had just told her.

“Yes. What’s wrong with that? Technically, I didn’t lie. And for your information, the Russell-Mundt heiress could have my middle name.”

“Ridiculous,” Jean rolled her eyes playfully as we walked toward the press area to deliver the statement about the quals — by the way, I got P3.

“How did your meeting go?” I asked her.

“Well, Am…” she bit her lip, thinking about how to word what had happened minutes before qualifying started. “It’s obvious Nyck’s not doing too well, but the team still has faith.”

“They have faith?” I frowned, puzzled. “Jean, it’s barely been three races.”

“I know, but you know who’s in charge here. Christian wants upgrades for De Vries as soon as possible. He can’t blame the car because you’re doing fine. But all Nyck has done is finish among the last two since preseason. Horner and Franz are discussing it.”

In a way, they were right. Nyck had been eliminated in the first GP and hadn’t made it past Q1 today, same as the previous race. The car was fine, so obviously, the problem was the driver, meaning the whole garage would be pressuring him tomorrow to at least finish fifteenth.

“I hope they don’t kick him out,” I sighed. “It would be the second teammate change in less than four months.”

“Do you miss him?” Jean asked out of nowhere after a silence, and I turned to look at her.

“What?”

“Sorry. Franz should be asking you this, but he sent me instead,” she explained as we entered the press office hallways. “Do you miss Pierre?”

“We didn’t even talk, Jean. What kind of question is that? Are you working for ESPN now?”

“I should be. They don’t pay me extra for this nonsense,” she joked. “But seriously, we never talked about it. After everything that happened, you never talk to anyone…”

“He was a good teammate, okay? But just another teammate. I’ll have hundreds throughout my career. I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” I answered firmly.

“You don’t want to talk about Pierre, or you don’t want to talk because it brings...?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. Period,” I said, picking up the pace. “I don’t want to bring it up. I don’t want to dwell on it. I can’t stay stuck on that ending. I. Don’t. Want. To. Talk. About. It. Alright?” I snapped, and the topic came crashing into me even though I didn’t want it to.

In the middle of the hallway, without even noticing, we bumped into someone, and I turned around, annoyed — without realizing it was the very topic I didn’t want to talk about.

Maybe I did miss Pierre a little. Or rather, I missed the idea that one day, I’d be brave enough to tell him the truth because he was my teammate. Racing is an incredibly lonely place — very few people truly understand what it feels like. Exactly 20 people. And the closest to you is your teammate, no matter the competition. They’re the ones you should rely on. You can have friends outside the team, but there are contracts preventing you from sharing information — so your best ally is your teammate. As much as your worst enemy.

Since the beginning, I had the idea Pierre would be the first to know. I grew attached to the idealized version of the situation, carrying it with me for a long time. Maybe one day I would ask him to follow me to the motorhome after a race and take off my helmet in front of him. It was significant because he was my teammate, and sometimes seeing him isolated or awkwardly joining other people’s conversations broke my heart. But when Franz told me he was leaving the team for this season like it was nothing to me, it actually felt strange. We hadn’t even talked about it. Nothing. But I couldn’t deny he had been an incredible teammate despite everything on track.

It was strange because I hadn’t realized how much it would affect me until now. I hadn’t given it importance because I had a tie to break with Max — and suddenly, I found myself in a moment when I needed someone who truly understood, not someone who pretended to. That’s when you realize you need your teammate. I even thought about calling him, but it was absurd. Three years as teammates, and I was going to call him now that everything was over? What would be the point? We weren’t close — there was no reason to stay in touch. And then you realize just how lonely you really are — in a hotel room, rubbing ice from the bucket you asked for along with vodka over the area that hurts after crashing at the final corner, losing your whole season, while watching the news about the new world champion.

That’s why I didn’t want to bring it up now. But I kept crashing into the problem over and over again — and there it was again.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“And you drive like this?” I muttered grumpily, turning my back to him. I could feel Max’s gaze lingering on me, confused. Jean said nothing, and the people with him kept talking.

With the memory of his eyes spinning around in my head, I glanced at him once more — and stupidly panicked when we made eye contact.

How could I be scared to look at him when I had just beaten him at the first race of the season?

Probably because I had engraved his victorious stare in my mind all winter as the most torturous reminder of what it meant to lose.

“What just happened?” Jean whispered as we turned the corner.

“You just summoned the topic I didn’t want to talk about. That’s what happened,” I huffed, hundreds of memories breathing down my neck, hunting me like predators.

“Maybe you should do something about it,” she said as if it were that easy, and I looked her straight in the eyes, making it clear she had no idea what she was talking about.

“You’re literally traumatized, Capri,” she whispered very quietly. “You need to talk about it.”

“I need to drop this off at the office, bring Carmen something to thank her, then get to the hotel, take off these ridiculous pants with the rival’s logo and name, and get to training after changing my tampon. That’s what I need. So if you don’t mind, I’m too rushed and bleeding out to keep talking about this.”

PREVIOUS: 01.BACK ON TRACK

NEXT: 03.ABOUT THE TEAM

[rayssion]

Solangelo fic idea because I love them,

Soulmate au wherein once you're claimed the mark of your soulmate appears as a tattoo on your body, it might be the same place as your soulmate, it might be different. If your soulmate is a mortal then only a letter 'M' appears.

Everyone is so worked up because Will never showed his mark, some of them speculated his soulmate is a mortal, some of them argued that it could be unrequited love like his soulmate might be Annabeth but she found her soulmate so he's destined to be alone. No one knows for sure, except for his sister Kayla.

The helm of darkness? Geez who could it be? The only child of Hades out there is Nico di Angelo. Will is 100% sure that the boy despise his guts, also he heard from Kayla that the boy already has a crush, and he's not sure if the concept applies on roman demigods, but didn't Hazel have a soulmate already?

Will never shows his mark, he felt devastated especially that the son of Hades is quite distanced.

Nico tries to operate between his pitiful crush on Percy, Jason who's urging him to let go and find himself another person, and his own mark.

The little sun tattooed on the side of his torso.

Funny thing, everyone thinks his soulmate is a mortal.

[astradyke]

can't tell what i miss more, terrible influence tour summer/autumn or amazingphil channel. surely there will be nothing of an emotional nature happening in the tags of this post at all

[nitpick7]

SPOKEPICC KISS (YURI EDITION)

unfortunately i have Disease That Puts Minecraft Guys In Your Brain And You Can't Get Them Out. so i spent all day and also much of last night writing this. um spoke and mapicc but they're girls and they kiss. uu soulmates au but that isn't super relevant. takes place during invis mafia infiltration... yay yippee

words: 878

~ i don't have a fancy divider but other people use those so this is my low budget divider ~

Spoke, Mapicc, and Leo are sneaking around Mafia City at night, scouting out the area or something. Really, they were just bored and Spoke wanted something to do so she dragged her team out against their will. And really, though the others don't know this yet, Spoke just wanted an excuse to be alone with Mapicc. So, first chance she gets, she grabs Mapicc's hand (okay, fumbles around until she grabs Mapicc's hand instead of the gold chestplate she's holding, but who's checking?) and drags her into an alleyway.

"Wh- Spoke?" Mapicc asks, voice hushed. "What?"

Spoke holds up a finger to shh her before remembering that Mapicc can't see her hands, then shakes her head instead. Mapicc nods, and Spoke tightens her grip on her hand and leads her around some random shrubbery until they are appropriately out of sight and earshot from any potential onlookers.

"Hi," Spoke says, not quite a whisper but still carefully quiet. "It's been a while since we had time to talk."

Spoke can hear Mapicc's eyeroll through the invis. "We talk all the time, Spoke. Like, through comms directly in front of Ash. Constantly."

"Yeah, but Leo's always there, and I love that guy but he's not you," Spoke pouts. She reaches for Mapicc's other hand and finds it after a couple seconds of fumbling. "I want to talk to just you. And we can't even write since we have to be invis all the time..."

Mapicc is quiet for a second, and Spoke shuts up too so she can listen to Mapicc's breathing. Remember that she's there. "And what do you need me alone for?" She whispers.

Spoke can feel her face flush, and for once she's grateful for the invis keeping her girlfriend from seeing her face. "Honestly, I kind of just want to kiss you. Um, a lot, probably."

Mapicc tilts her head at Spoke and says, teasing, "Well, we can do that right now."

"Mapicc, I can't even see you-"

"Oh, shut up." She lets go of Spoke's hands and cups her own around Spoke's face. "I know where your lips are."

And with genuinely impressive accuracy, Mapicc's lips meet Spoke's.

Spoke is, justifiably, shocked for about half a second before the sensation of the kiss overpowers anything else and all she can do is melt into it. She closes her eyes and wraps her arms around Mapicc's body, and has just enough presence of mind to notice that their armor makes it slightly uncomfortable for her to be holding Mapicc this closely. Not that she cares - she hasn't gotten to kiss her soulmate in far too long and will not be letting anything interrupt this moment.

Mapicc moves her hands to the back of Spoke's neck, getting them all tangled up in her hair. Spoke's hands find the hood of Mapicc's sweatshirt and she holds on like it's an anchor, keeping her right there with her soulmate and nothing else exists anymore. It's just the two of them, finally just the two of them, in each other's arms.

Spoke really could not ask for anything else.

After a minute, Mapicc takes her mouth off of Spoke's, but she doesn't break away just yet; instead just moving a few inches to the right and kissing down the side of Spoke's neck. She stays on one spot for a while, and Spoke is sure she'll have the most atrocious hickey, but it's not like anyone will be able to see it. It's just for them.

Mapicc does pull away, eventually, and Spoke can't stop herself from letting out a little whine in protest as Mapicc's hands detangle themselves from her hair. "Spoke," She whispers, giggling, "Look at me."

So Spoke opens her eyes, and their invis has worn off and she's finally looking down at Mapicc. She smiles, and Mapicc smiles back, and she's so cute and Spoke wishes she could spend all night right here, looking at her.

Mapicc tucks a curl of Spoke's hair behind her ear. "I messed your hair up," She comments.

"I don't care," Spoke says. "You can do it again. If you want."

Mapicc laughs. She tilts her head to get a better look at Spoke's neck, like she's examining her work. "I really did a number on you there."

The blush already creeping across Spoke's face only grows deeper at that. "You did. I like it," She blurts.

"Oh, you are so down bad for me, it's embarrassing."

Spoke huffs. "Well, I have to make up for the months of not knowing you're my soulmate somehow." She can see Mapicc's eyes tracing patterns across her face and knows she's finding constellations in Spoke's freckles again. "And don't act like you aren't down bad for me either, stupid. I see what you're doing."

Mapicc's eyes dart away like she's embarrassed, as though Spoke hasn't caught her doing this a thousand times already. "Shut up, I don't know what you're talking about." Spoke snickers. "We should probably go find Leo again anyways. And resplash invis."

Reluctantly, Spoke takes an invis potion out of her inventory. "Okay." She grabs Mapicc's hand while she can still see it, plants another quick kiss on her cheek, and splashes the potion on the ground. "See you later!"

[possamble]

realizing im kind of a weirdo about laios and marcille

[thefriendoforatioisdead]

I know I've said before that I cried, but I was exaggerating for dramatic effects because I'm a liar

BUT TODAY...OH I AM SOBBING RIGHT NOW ! THE TEARS ARE ROLLING ON MY CHEEKS ! I AM SNIFFLING ! I'M EXPERIENCING CHEST PAIN ! WHAT THE HECK REVERSE 4 YOU ? THIS SO HEART SHATTERING I'M DYING ! THE MOST EMOTIONAL WORST BREAK UP EVER !

[citriarchive]

you ever just see one (1) post about how characters in AUs will likely be ooc by way of how their backstory is affected by the change in universe and proceed to wonder what the effect of a world where there is an expectation that once you're drawn to your soulmate you Will fall in love with would have on a character whose defining arc is trying to find some semblance of self-worth (<- frothing at the mouth)

i'm gonna put this under a cut bc it's like. mildly heavy character stuff to do with self-worth. not too bad but just in case.

like you'd think it'd be good for him, right. because ny way of having a soulmate he is inherently worthy of being loved by at least one person. but then you remember that he has this Feeling of just. Being Bad. this inherent shame attached to...Being™ thanks to The Horrors. and he has to exist to someone. which raises two problems:

being perceived at all and

(more importantly) the question of even if he does meet his soulmate, even if they do fall in love, is that their soulmate choosing to love him with his flaws? or is it them forcing themselves to resist being poisoned by this nonexistent (but very existent to him) Bad that resides in him? putting up with him? just barely tolerating his existence?

like i genuinely think he might've been excited to have a soulmate when he was younger. and then he got older and things happened and he realized how much inherent terror there is in the concept of being bound to someone who could see him the same way he sees himself.

and i think that makes The Choice to Love™ really important to him. or even more so, the choice to BE loved. the choice to trust nithral's decision, because he trusts nithral. the choice to just. let go and let someone care about him and realize that it's not causing some kind of irreparable damage. in fact, quite the opposite, it seems!

honestly without the context of soulmate AU this sounds like an analysis of their canon relationship and i find that very funny but anyway yeah i'm uhhh EXTREMELY grrrawrawrawr rn. scuttling along my walls screaming at the top of my lungs like a Creature. thank you for listening to my TED talk

[hollersparrow]

alrighty, to begin, here's one of my all-time favorite fics and one that i will happily re-read at any time.

as much as i dislike jk rowling and think she's a shitty person who can suck on a naked mole rat, i have been in the harry potter fandom since before i knew what a fandom was. so finding a work that was exquisitely written, had fun ships, and i like better than the original works in a lot of ways? EXCELLENT.

and that fic is called 'survival is a talent' and is written by ao3 author ShanaStoryteller (i could go off on this author also bc they are hands-down one of the best authors i have ever read works of and they have RANGE. but i will definitely be going off on a rant on some of their other works at some point, so i'll leave it here for now).

long story short, it's a relatively well known fic in the hp fandom (as in if you sort the works in ao3 by hits, it's #5 on the list FOR EVERY FIC WRITTEN). it's a rewrite of canon with a splash of soulmate au. honestly the soulmate au plays a bigger part in the beginning to set the plot off and then becomes somewhat of a background mention once everything is in motion. if you're looking for drarry, found family, a massive middle finger to canon, exquisite writing and pacing, as well as just...various twists, and you haven't already read this fic, please do so at your soonest convenience.

i literally recommend this fic to everyone i know, regardless of whether they're involved in any fandoms or not.

[novelconcepts]

Hi! I love the way you write Taivan, just out of curiosity, do you ever imagine them in a no break up universe? What are your headcanons about Taivan post willderness together?

Thank you! Tbh, I don't usually visualize a no-break-up universe for them, because their relationship has soooo many dark corners in which trauma can hide. They don't communicate. Like, famously, do not talk to each other about the problems they're having. That, on top of eeeeverything else the crash brings, can't end well--or, at least, can't be one smooth, continuous ride.

In the event that they ever did stay together for the entire run of the show, I feel like it would be...savage. They'd sharpen each other's edges. Bring out the worst in one another, even as they formed an unassailable wall against the world. I don't think they'd have kids. I don't think they'd be the gay Kennedys. I think they'd be hard, intense, passionate, and ultimately kind of terrifying. Since both of them used the years apart to build a life looking firmly at the past (Taissa fulfilling ambitions she probably outgrew in the woods, Van quite literally living inside a shrine to nostalgia), it's hard to imagine them building a gentle future together in their late 20s-early 30s. I certainly don't think either of them would ever get bored, but I don't think it would be healthy, either.

I think after the wilderness, they do stay together a while. I think it's passionate and intense, a roller coaster of a relationship. I think they break up and get back together a lot. I suspect there's a lot of sex and not a lot of conversation about anything real. Until canon corrects me, my estimation is that they continue on their on-again, off-again thing through Shauna's wedding in 2001. I suspect they split up soon after that--possibly because Tai's so obsessed with her future, possibly because the weight of their combined trauma cracks something in them. Taissa says she's flushed a fifteen-year-marriage down the drain, so I assume she sleeps with a ton of women, and then launches herself at Simone, marrying her by 2006. And Van...just...seems like she's done letting people in. This screams of two people needing very different things (or, at least, convincing themselves they do), so I am rabid for any post-rescue scenes with them together. I really, really want to see (re: am terrified to see) how sad that might have gotten. I think they don't know how not to protect each other. I think they don't know how to not give in to the gravity between them. And I think, ultimately, they never learned how to melt down the knife they made of themselves in the woods. Their love was literally shaped by a violent near-death experince. What choice do they have, but to draw blood?

[sherlock-is-ace]

.

[runandhideguys]

sometimes the crux of the anti vs pro debate for me is "I'm not anti censorship or a pro shipper I just think you're both stupid"

[minbon]

🐰 JJK Fics 🐰

a.k.a. the fics that introduced me to a whole new obsession.

or in other words... i thought i was never into jjk, but these fics proved me wrong 😩😩😩

°°°°°°•

One Night Stand by @buryhny (ceo!jk, a,f,s, pregnancy, slowburn) ["wanna go upstairs?"]

Sweet & Spicy by @ktownshizzle (fluff, idol!au, strangers to ?) [“Are you also on the menu?”] (this is a drabble to K's T&C)

Play pretend ! by @frmisnow (smut, angst , fwb) ["Fuck, I think I like you"]

Just a Veil by @jjungkookislife (430 words BUT the angst in here???) ["You would never be Jungkook’s bride."]

Navigating Tides by @jjungkookislife (exes to lovers, a, f, s) [“Let’s make up for lost time.”]

RUN [ I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII] by @neonlights92 (arranged marriage, gang au) [“I suppose I should welcome you to the family, ...Mrs Jeon.”]

Colour Me In by @taegularities (fwb, fake dating, college!au; f, a, s) ["I need you to be my boyfriend. Please.”]

Ruin you (ft. kth) by @taegularities (established relationship, fwb; f, a, s) [“Do you really want that so bad?”]

Mature by @jiminrings (angst, fluff, f2l) ["What I'm not okay with is that you didn't even give me the chance.” ]

fifth wish by @jiminrings (a,f, unrequited love (at first)) [“For us to never see each other again.” ]

how long will we fall by @jiminrings (soulmate au, unrequited love (at first), a, f) [“What happens if your soulmate doesn’t want you?” ]

Chasing Cars by @oddinary4bts (brother's best friend, s, a, f) [“You fucking touch her, you’re dead.”]

tolerate it by @back2bluesidex (angst, breakup) [Yes. Yes you are not her. ]

Poison by @back2bluesidex (s, a, unrequited love) [“I pick my poison and it’s you.” ]

and they were roommates (ft. kth) by @hoseok666 (college au, sloooooowburn) [“Hi, new roommate!”]

WINE Series by @hoseoksluna (smut) [“If I were to have a glass of wine with you.. Then, there would be no party to go to.”]

Little Juice (WINE drabble) by @hoseoksluna (smuuuuut) [“You must be thirsty after all that dancing”]

Mutual help by @personasintro (fakedating au, slow burn, a, s, f) ["Can you pretend to be my girlfriend?" ]

Pour up (ft. kth) by @jungkxook (smuuuut) ["Pour up, baby girl.”]

Maid for you (ft kth) by @forgottenpasta (smuuuut, dvp) ["Will you let me clean you up, doll?”]

Just Friends by @kinktae (bf2l , s, f, a) ["You just love to run your mouth, don't you, baby girl?"]

Clandestine by @junghelioseok (f,s, brother's bestfriend) [“I knew you were into me.”]

••••••°

H A P P Y R E A D I N G (~°○°~)

[pollyna]

Me&E, every couple of years: we're going to do a matching tattoo!

Always me&E: *talk about it for months and months, choosing the tattoo artist, the place we want it, and when we're going to do it!*

Always ma&E: *do actually nothing for no reason*

Rinse. Repeat.

[suiana]

forgotten! god reader and lone worshipper! yandere...

so basically you're a god who's on the verge of disappearing! but... but!!! you have a worshipper who prevents you from dying. tragic, i know.

"you again? get lost mortal."

"my beloved god! i have come with offerings!"

"I don't care, begone."

"i shall leave them by your altar!"

you're sick of it.

you're sick of him.

to be honest, you're just sick of it all.

what does this human even want from you? you no lobger have the prestige and power like you used to have. you're a mere shell of your former self, a tragic caricature of your past glory.

"mortal i wish to die. just get lost and worship someone else."

"oh no that won't do at all, do you wish for me to provide more offerings?"

"what? no, i don't even want your offerings. stop giving them to me."

"oh dear, have i upset you? that's why you don't want my gifts, my beloved god?"

"no bruh, I don't NEED live humans as offerings 💀💀💀 who the hell do you think i am."

he's... a little bit more than devoted. obsessed would be the right word. yeah, he's obsessed. no doubt about it.

he probably needs to be in a... what do humans call it? a mental hospital? yeah, he needs to be admitted to one immediately. you're sure of it there's no other reason why he'd be so eager to worship you-some no name god that's fallen from grace.

"mortal, why do you like me so much?"

"do i need a reason to? ☺️☺️☺️"

yet he surpriese you every time.

every. damn. time.

looking at you like you've hung the stars in the sky, doing the most just for an opportunity to have your attention, fuck, he's pretty much done it all.

why? just why? why does he like you so much? you don't... even...

you just want to die, damnit.

"because we're fated to be. that's why I'm devoted to you."

"um... mortal and gods can't be soulmates, you know that right?"

yeah, that didn't stop him either. you're pretty sue he's ill in the head. if anything, you think it made him more obsessed.

like, you might be a god but you're pretty disturbed yourself. and that's saying something considering you've pretty much seen it all.

"I won't let you die, you can't."

"sure buddy..."

"i mean it."

[ohnoitstbskyen]

asking sincerely. do you see a romance between jayce and viktor? do you think they ended up being something romantic at the end?

With apologies I am going to only half talk about the thing you are asking me, since I have something else on my mind and you happened to hit the button that makes me vomit it into words.

Coming at this from an aromantic perspective, I obviously don't experience the state of absurd obsessive delusion that you bizarre romantic freaks fetishize so feverishly*, but I am often annoyed by the idea that friendship and romance are either opposites or mutually exclusive. From my perspective, the boundary between the two is at best thin, and more realistically not actually a boundary at all except by cultural construction.

*i am taking an excessively hostile, crass tone for my own amusement i do not mean this seriously please be normal at me, weird allo freaks

I won't get into my full feelings about the end of Arcane, but it seems perfectly plain to me that the script, the imagery and the animation presents Jayce and Viktor as two halves of a whole, not opposing forces but alike to yin and yang: opposites which each contain the other. And at the climax of the show, the greatest peril to life and peace in the narrative is resolved by these two men literally joining their bodies and souls together, and going into eternity holding one another for comfort and strength. They are quite literally soulmates, quite literally the most important people in one another's lives.

I don't think that that kind of intimate emotional connection between men must necessarily be either romantic or sexual - I am aromantic, and plenty of ace people exist, and there is nothing in our natures excluding us from intense connections of love with other people of any gender.

I also think it is willfully ignorant (and genuinely homophobic) to act as though these deep connections are mutually exclusive with sex and romance. As though if Viktor and Jayce fucked nasty and made out sloppy style, suddenly their intimacy is less pure or valid, or tainted somehow.

"If these two men who are emotionally close to one another also fuck or get romantically involved, then friendship is dead, murdered on the floor by a dick-shaped knife; vile sexuality corrupts and debases the true, pure and virtuous love of ✨friendship✨" <- This shit is homophobic at a baseline, queerphobic in general, and frankly as an aromantic man I find it pretty fucking insulting as well.

What, are my friendships with other men just inherently more pure and divine, more meaningful and true than a gay man's can ever be, because I will never suffer the vile temptation of adding romance to my affection? Is that how I should think of myself? And is an aroace man more pure than me still, the only source of TRUE male friendship that a man can ever experience, free from the pustulant corruption of sexuality and romantic desire?

You get this pathetic defensiveness (especially from men, but other genders aren't immune) wherein sex and sexuality and romance between men is perceived as a threat to men's right and ability to experience deep connection to each other. But the emotional castration of men comes not from people imagining sex and romance as a component of our relationships - it comes from people who insist that our emotional lives must be ruled by strict binaries. Sex and romance, OR ELSE friendship. Deep romantic connection OR ELSE deep platonic connection. Pick one and do not dare to imagine both, nor act as though the boundary between them is something that we built by cultural fiat, and which can be dismantled just the same.

And yes, yes, yes, I know there are cultural forces literally illuminati-style conspiring to systemically erase the entire existence of explicitly romantic, sexual male love from media, and I know that homophobic puritanism is on the rise and there are material concerns and a real necessity for explicit representation in fiction, yes I know. Everything is more complicated than a tumblr post can cover, I am not trying to Solve Rainbow Capitalism™ over here, I am trying to express frustration as an aromantic man that this stupid fucking binary keeps getting culturally reinforced by both my enemies and my well-meaning allies, when I think the binary is what's fucking killing us in the first place.

So anyway. My position is that Viktor and Jayce can be entirely aromantic no-homo friends, and they can fuck nasty in the throes of mutual need and obsession, and I refuse to entertain the idea that there is an irresolvable contradiction between those things. Each of those can contain the other, or become the other given time and circumstance.

What the imagery, storytelling and script of Arcane makes clear is that Viktor and Jayce love each other more than life itself. To say that that love must be shoved into the box of either "platonic" or "romantic" is to miss out on almost everything that is beautiful about love. It can be both and neither! It can be a secret third, ninth or fifteenth thing that they haven't invented a tag for on Ao3 yet.

They are giving each other whatever the spiritual mind-ghost equivalent of sloppy backshots are on the ethereal plain forever, they are the most romantic lovers in the cosmos, and they are also the most chaste and platonic life-partner friends you have ever seen, effortlessly intimate and unashamedly tender. They are men who love one another, in every way that love matters.

You can pick whichever interpretation brings you joy, and resonates with what your heart needs, the text of the show is eminently and explicity open to it, and anyone who says otherwise either failed to pay attention, or refused to pay attention on purpose.

[the-faceless-bride]

More Ideas for KNY (demon slayer) different characters ♡ (SOME NSFW CONTENT FOR SANEMI AND MUZAN AND MENTIONS OF GORE IN SANEMI AND LIGHT NSFW IN GYOMEI)

<- Part 1

Imagine being dangerously in love.

Imagine being a demon, obsessed with the brash, and blood thirst Wind Hashira. the first time ever being in battle with him is what leads you down a path of want and lust for the cruel hashira.

Imagine going out of your way to always be where he is, always catching his attention and being attacked by him. He believes you're mocking him, following him just to show off that he hasn't been able to kill you. But that isn't true at all. When you fight, you never actively try and gut him, only blocking your neck and leaving the rest of your limbs exposed to be lashed in this masochism tango.

Imagine struggling to hide your enjoyment and ecstacy each time his sword ripped, teard, and scar your body. He had to have known how me made you feel. He must. The darkness of your cheeks must've been a giveaway. Right? His eyes bewitching you in how intense he glares into your soul. It sets a fire under your cold skin, a burning desire.

Imagine one time when you and Sanemi are fighting. Other slayers show up. But they don't instantly jump into the fight. 1. from looking at the fight, you hadn't landed a single strike and seemed to be a greater deal slower than the hashira, and 2. Tanjiro made an odd comment. "Huh, it's like she's avoiding striking him on purpose."

Imagine how Shinobu decided the fight was long enough and tried to sneak in and end the fight. Only for a switch to set off and catch her off guard and spin at the speed of light, leaving a large gash across her body from her left founder to her hip. And Sanemi instantly tried to help her. Only to be stopped by your own weapon pressed so close to his neck that even swallowing made his Adamsapple scrape against a sharp blade. "Don't you dare. Your attention is meant for me. Are you seriously letting her attempt to get between us work?" And that made Sanemi pause... "us? Wha-" -- "don't play dumb darling. We're soulmates, Sanemi~" you whisper to him. "What the fuck."

Imagine how now you make him feel so conflicted, how he hates you for what you are but loves you for how you make him feel... in his home in his spare time as the sun rises, his windows covered and locked tight as he has you on your knees, leaning forward and his chest pressed to your back. Your head locked between his bicep as his other hand held his sword under you. It nicks you each time he thrusts. If he pushed you forward anymore, his blade would surely cut your chest and stomach open. "I HATE YOU, YOU FILTHY DEMON. I DONT WANT YOU. CURSE YOU FOR DEMONIC TEMPTATION." You softy cry at the harsh words from your love, "I don't care if you don't want me... I'm yours right now..."

Sanemi Shinazugawa × Demon reader Trope: Yandere Lovesick/I hate you so much I love you.

Imagine being with Muzan his entire life... your family were servants to his family. And from a young age, you were assigned to be Muzans personal maid or companion as you were too young to really do any work than cleaning up his room. But since you can remember, you've always been with Muzan.

Imagine being the one he confides with most. His fears, his wishes, and despite his coldness. His shouldering eyes seemed to be less scorching when it came to you. His one and only friend. Even if you didn't have much of a choice in the companionship. It was you who sat in on his doctor's visits about his deteriorating health. When he got the news of how it would be a miracle for him to even make it to his mid 20s...

Imagine how one night after a particularly scary coughing fit, he simply places his head to your mid section as you blush his hair and pull it back into a braid. He softy thanks you as he tilts his head to look up at you, "Of course, I'm always happy to take care of you." But that isn't want he wants. He wanted to take care of you. Not you to him. And without thinking, he pulls you down to him.

Imagine His heat is pounding in his chest. You lay across him as his long and slim fingers tease you between your legs. You try and stay quiet, your face twisted with pleasure and guilt. You felt like you were taking advantage of the sick man who would never find love or feel the love of another in such a romantic and intimate way. You thought maybe that this was him just grasping for a moment where he didn't feel so useless being bedridden. But it was so much more. If this was the last thing he did, pleasing the only one who he cared for most. The one he wished he could've married... he would be happy to die. This surely isn't good for his heart, but he couldn't care less. You hovering yourself above him. As he tried weakly to pull you in to rest your whole weight. This was how he wanted to spend his last days, weeks, and months. However long he had left. He wanted it to be with you.

Imagine as days go by, and he feels more and more guilty. He starts to feel as though you let him do these things because you feel obligated as his personal maid to do so. Nights in the dark ask he fingers you, giving and receiving oral pleasure. But you still won't give him everything. You refuse to fully lay with him. Sometimes, he feels like it's because you don't really love him. Not like he does you. Or maybe you find him... pathetic... he can't actually make love to you. You'd be doing all the work. He doesn't want that, and it seems you don't either... eventually, his thoughts become too much, and he decides to let you go...

Imagine you were relieved of all your maid duties, not just to Muzan but to the family as a whole. You were heartbroken. And the heartbreak only worsened at the news of Muzan and his families and your families deaths. You'd cried more times than you'd ever had before in your life. And you were so very confused when you'd found a Man who looked exactly like Muzan sitting in your bed a few nights later. "Hello dear. I'm home." He invented to truly give you what you wanted, and he was eager to give it too you.

Muzan Kibutsuji × reader Trope: Unrequited/reunited love/soulmates

Imagine being Master Kagaya's faithful slayer, you'd always admired him. You and your Master had created a strong bond. Stronger than others. Moments like this reminded you that you were special. You sat on your knees as you just like you had the first time. Your head pressed to his chest and he dragged his fingers over your head.

Imagine trying not to tear up as you remember the first time you'd kneeled for him. You'd been reckless and impatient leading to a fellow slayer getting extremely hurt. You kneeled before him as you sat in the room alone waiting for him to speak. Doing your best to not make any noise as you silently cry. You'd failed him. Your beloved Master. But he didn't yell. He didn't make you feel like you were a problem. He merely hummed before knealing with you, one hand on atop your head and the other cupping your cheek feeling the wet stream of tears and wiped it away. "It's alright. You didn't mean for this to happen. I know you didn't. I know you're a good girl." And your breath hitched. He noticed. And from then on he gave you positive affrimations which encouraged you to do better. For him.

Imagine how as you sat there listening to his words letting yourself flow away and melt into your master. He thought it was innocent. He was simply your master helping you, if it wasn't him maybe you'd find these soft words from Gyomei or maybe even Kyojuro... but he was wrong. So wrong. It was him. Only him. You'd put yourself on the line so much more than you should've. All to hear those soft praises. His wife must not like you... you do take up more and more of his time as days go on...

Imagine how he softly calls to you. Late that night, he'd heard your footsteps. He sat with you talking. About anything that day. Soft and short conversations. Quiet but not uncomfortable. "You're my favorite you know." He sighed, before he let out a small chuckle "don't tell the others." You know he was teasing. But your heart told you other wise.

Imagine being hurt. In battle you were hurt. But even in your pain you still made your way to your master... your beautiful Kagaya... the married man, the family man, that you had fallen in love with. "My dear, you still come and see me while you're in such pain?" He seemed shocked. But you aren't sure why, you'd walk on hot coles and crawled on your hands and belly to kneel for him. You'd do anything for your master. And you could only hope as his favorite... you wouldn't let him down. Finally you lifted your head from his chest, pulling his hands from your hands, leaving a kiss to his knuckles. One day. One day you'll have him.

Kagaya Ubuyashiki × Slayer reader Trope: unrequited love/lovesick/slow burn

Special Part two of Forbidden love with Gyomei × demon

Imagine how the rest of the slayers flock around Gyomei, asking him so many questions. And he couldn't even answer them all. Too consumed by his disbelief that the person he'd fallen in love with so deeply, had turned out to be a demon.

Imagine how he layed in bed lonely and... missing you. He began to long of your cold touch, your voice, your laugh that was so contagious to him. He missed you. He'd fallen for you. Demon or not. He laid in his bed trying and failing to get even a wink of sleep. But just as he had almost fallen asleep he was awoken by a sound. 'Tap tap' was the sound, 'tap tap' on his window. "Gyomei... my love..."

Imagine how he practically leaped from his bed. Demon or not you had carved yourself a spot in his heart. Slamming open the window and pulling you inside, his hands instantly feeling over your cheeks, your nose, your neck. Kissing the knuckles of your cold hands.

Imagine being the one that made Gyomei for a moment stay from his faiths. Gyomei devoted his life to his beliefs, that includes waiting. Waited all his life for the one. Saving himself and waiting. But you both were in a unique circumstances... so from that point on Gyomei promised himself to you. You would stay with him in his home and he would always come back to you. That night he would kiss you, love you, lay you under him while he whispered for you to be his.