#I feel destined to see people in this way but to always be seen as lesser or something to be settled for

[antianakin]

I don't really buy into the popular idea that Anakin somehow would've been saved by being asked to look after Jedi children, that it somehow would've magically taught him how to let go in a way he couldn't have learned in canon.

For one, you say that Anakin wanted someone to love him unconditionally and have their lives revolve around him. That's only partly true. Yes, he wants someone whose life revolves around him, but he specifically wants someone who will DEFINE themselves by their relationship to him. He wants someone who will do whatever he asks when he asks it of them, he wants someone whose first and only real priority is HIM, he wants someone who will give him whatever he wants whenever he wants it. This is why he likes Palpatine so much, it's why he gets upset whenever Padme tries to tell him no. You might notice, too, that this is an INCREDIBLY unhealthy dynamic to have with ANYONE and not something that should be encouraged to have.

The other issue with this is that no Jedi children are going to be taught to have their lives revolve around their creche master. The whole POINT behind the Jedi taking in younger children and toddlers rather than older kids is that it allows them to instill their values and teachings a lot earlier, BEFORE they'd learn to become too connected to one guardian (or one SET of guardians). Jedi children are unlikely to be encouraged to see their crechemaster the same way that other children see their parents. The Jedi tend to raise children COMMUNALLY, so their younglings likely have many different people raising them from the start. They're unlikely to have one person who just becomes a de facto parent for like 10-12 kids until they reach padawan age and then they just pass them off to the next person who becomes a new de facto parent. The Jedi would be taught that the whole Order are their family, that they can rely on ANYONE among the Jedi for aid and guidance and comfort. Anakin would not be handed a small group of kids that are just now "his" for like a decade or something. I don't buy that that's how Jedi would ever work (I DO buy that that could be how Mandos work, though).

So EVEN IF we go with the idea that somehow raising a child will fulfill the part of Anakin that wants someone whose life revolves around him, he won't get that from Jedi children, who are literally being taught not to let their lives revolve around one person from the moment they're given to the Order.

For two, this completely ignores that one of Anakin's biggest motivations is that he wants to be seen as a HERO, he wants fame and glory, he wants to do grand deeds like coming back to Tatooine to free all the slaves. As you might imagine, taking care of children isn't exactly going to seem like it fulfills that desire to someone like Anakin. It just isn't. THIS desire is what keeps Anakin from just LEAVING the Jedi in order to go be with Padme. If he just gets to be Padme's trophy wife, he can't go off to play the hero. He wants the fame and glory that he believes comes with being a Jedi, he wants the adoration that he thinks he can only get as a Jedi. If he didn't care about that, he'd have just left it the moment Padme agreed to be with him (or earlier, honestly). This desire is ALSO why he's peaks during the war, it's why he's so much happier and more comfortable during wartime than any other Jedi is. During the war, the Jedi are reduced to just going out and fighting "the bad guys" and protecting "the good guys." It allows Anakin to really settle into this feeling that he's being the big grand hero he's always believed he was destined for. The other Jedi tend to see this as really really far from what being a Jedi is all ABOUT, but Anakin DOESN'T because this is what he's always wanted being a Jedi to look like. This is why, when Tarkin claims the Jedi are being too soft during battles, it's Ahsoka and Obi-Wan who push back on that idea while Anakin actually agrees with it.

For three, there is NO INDICATION that Anakin never spent time around Jedi younglings ever. In fact, there's the OPPOSITE indication in canon, that Anakin already DOES spend enough time around the younglings for them to recognize him immediately and know him by name. There's thousands of Jedi, it wouldn't have been shocking if that one little youngling in the Council chambers didn't know who Anakin was when he walked in and just recognized that he was wearing Jedi clothing. But he doesn't. He addresses Anakin BY NAME. As I mentioned earlier, the Jedi appear to raise their children communally, so it would make a lot of sense that Anakin likely DID have to spend some time with the younglings every so often. Ahsoka herself is put in charge of a group of younglings going to Ilum to get their first kyber crystal when she's only 15ish years old, despite being a padawan who is assigned to a front lines battalion in the middle of a galactic civil war. You can make a REALLY easy assumption that at bare minimum, Anakin has probably had to take at least one group of younglings to Ilum by himself. But it's much more likely that he's had to do far more than that and interact with them somewhat regularly.

For four, there's actually canonical proof that handing Anakin responsibility of a child would never have saved him. Because Anakin is canonically handed responsibility of a child and it doesn't save him. Granted the child is like 14 years old when he is given responsibility of her, but it still involves having someone who looks up to him, someone whose future depends upon him, and someone he has to learn how to let go of eventually. And look what happens when she decides to walk away from the Order, look how well he reacts to that. Look at what happens to her when Padme's life is threatened and Anakin decides to throw everything away for a chance at power. Being given responsibility of a child didn't help him, it didn't save him, it didn't allow him to learn how to let go of ANYTHING.

For five, this completely ignores that the one thing that truly fucks up Anakin is proximity to Palpatine. If your argument is that Anakin should've spent MORE TIME sitting on Coruscant rather than going out in the galaxy, then this just makes him EVEN MORE vulnerable to Palpatine than he is in canon because now he's even more available. Palpatine can pop over to see him, he can ask Anakin to come talk to him and chances are pretty good that Anakin's around. The ONLY real way to "save" Anakin from going dark is to somehow completely remove Palpatine from the equation. The reason Anakin falls has NOTHING TO DO with whether he gets to take care of kids or not, it has nothing to do with how the Jedi taught him their values, or WHO taught Anakin the Jedi's values. There is nothing the Jedi could've truly changed about their culture or their approach to training Anakin that would've saved him. The assumption that they could've just moves the blame from Palpatine and Anakin to the Jedi themselves instead of recognizing the Jedi as the victims of Palpatine and Anakin's choices.

And finally, you've kind-of missed the entire argument being made in this post about Anakin. The argument isn't "Anakin would've been better off as a different kind of Jedi" but "Anakin SHOULDN'T HAVE BEEN A JEDI AT ALL." Now, if we set aside the problem of Palpatine entirely, the best environment for Anakin to grow up in likely would've been one that was more akin to a traditional family structure, preferably a set of parents who didn't already have children so he didn't have to feel like he needed to compete for affection. I DO think that Anakin could've learned a lot from the Jedi if Palpatine's influence were removed, but I also think that what he learned from them would ultimately help him to recognize that he didn't WANT to be a Jedi and that this life didn't truly make him happy. I think the Jedi's way of life was already perfectly set to help him overcome a lot of his traumas from childhood and lead a healthier life, but he was never going to make a good Jedi, no matter what kind of Jedi he tried to be, because the kinds of things Anakin generally wants AREN'T the kinds of things that the Jedi lifestyle allows for.

The whole metaphor with the kudzu and the goats is that Anakin DOES NOT BELONG IN THE JEDI ORDER, and he needs to be REMOVED from that environment in order to be somewhere where he doesn't harm others just by existing. It isn't the ENVIRONMENT'S fault that Anakin doesn't fit into it, and changing the environment itself doesn't change the fact that Anakin is a harmful presence in it. The kudzu also cannot be changed to be something that DOES fit into the environment without harm, it will ALWAYS be harmful, there's nothing to introduce into the environment that magically changes the kudzu into a non-harmful non-native plant. It's always going to be invasive and harmful until it's completely removed.

Anakin Skywalker was an invasive species in the Jedi. He was introduced to the environment by Qui-Gon and the Jedi tried everything they could to co-exist with him but Anakin just didn't want to co-exist, he wanted to take over, he wanted to be the BEST. And when the Jedi couldn't give him what he wanted, he destroyed them to make room for his own selfish desires.

Luke might be a non-native species on Tatooine, but his father was a an invasive species in every environment he inhabited and a parasite in every relationship he was in, so I think Luke's doing just fine quite honestly.

[akicine]

Hi hello I hope you're well I hope your requests are open if not please ignore this but can I ask blade with a lover from when he was yingxing who he lost a long time ago and they reunite and the spark is still there just some cute fluff and abit of angst

IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I SWEAR TO GOD MY WIFI IS SO SHITTY , EVERYTIME I REFRESHED , IT DIDNT SAVEEE SO I HAD TO RESTART 4 TIMES.

The same , yet different (Blade x Reader)

You thought you’d never see him again.

After all these years , you’d never tried to dream that he would come back.

And yet, here he is , right in front of your eyes , looking at you with a cold stare , and talking to you with curt responses.

When you had first gotten a note , claiming that you could meet your lover once again , you thought it was just a scam , seeing that you haven’t met him in centuries and have long given up on the hope of seeing him again.

However that one small part of you , clung on to the hope that you would meet him again.

So when you arrived at the destination given , you thought you were hallucinating, seeing the stellaron hunter Kafka , and …

And-

Yingxing.

But then you realized , he wasn’t Yingxing.

He was blade.

Just like how you were questioning his existence and how he’s here , he was questioning his feelings about you.

He doesn’t know why , but whenever he thinks of you , he feels a soft pang in his heart , almost as if he was mourning the loss of something , but forgot what it was.

You know that face , you’ve seen it for the past couple of centuries , yet he was different from what he used to be.

Snow White hair , now a dark indigo , with ends as red as wine.

Those eyes that used to hold the pride and life of a blacksmith, now dead and holds the regrets and pain of centuries.

Even then , he’s still Yingxing to you.

Your lover , who had stayed with you for years , even when he was a short life species , you had loved him , cared for him when he got injured, and laughed with him.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you finally realized that he had come back to you .

He doesn’t know why it bothers him so much , he doesn’t care to remember people from his past life , but whenever it comes to you , he feels the urge to gently wipe away your tears , as if it’s some familiar thing he always did , and comfort you.

With great ‘reluctance’ he gently pulls you into his arms and rubs your lower back , getting into a comforting rhythm as he tries to comfort you.

He presses his chapped lips together , trying to figure out a way to make you feel better , but then he hears a sound of pure joy and looks down to see you smile .

He hasn’t seen anything better than it.

He gently cups your face , something he hasn’t done in centuries , and tilts it up a bit more before smiling.

He hasn’t done that in centuries.

You gently grasp his hand , one that’s so familiar to you , and squeeze it , relishing the fact that he’s truly here with you.

He takes the time to slowly reacquaint himself with your features , memorizing your features , wishing that the Mara wouldn’t wipe his memory away.

He hasn’t felt the call of Mara once in this time span

He gently kisses your forehead .

He may not be Yingxing , but he’ll still love you like him.

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Finding Refuge.

Chapter Three

Surviving a Zombie Apocalypse with Terry Richmond

I feel the darkness inside me like a creature curled up in my chest, breathing smoke and fire. It is always there. It weighs on me. It's not contained by anything but my own skin. Sometimes it sleeps. Sometimes it doesn't…

“How much longer?”

Terry paused within the dark and narrow underground tunnel. The luminance levels inside the tunnel are much lower than outside, making it difficult for his eyes to adjust.

“Nearly there…” Rae’s voice echoed.

Terry released a frustrated sigh before continuing along behind her.

“So, you sure you haven’t seen Mike around here at all?” Terry pestered.

“I’m certain. You sure you don’t have a picture?” Rae asked.

“Nothing. He took all his things. Including his ID…”

After what felt like an eternity, they finally reached their destination.

Terry’s hazel eyes took in the area filled with helpless people. They’d created an environment beneath the streets of Woodsbury to remain safe. Tents were pitched, canned goods and other food items were pilled high within a corner. Mothers coddled their children. It was a refuge.

“This way…”

Rae startled Terry by grabbing his hand to lead him along. His breath hitched and he dropped his hard gaze to stare down at their connected hands. The difference in size he took notice of. They stopped in front of an area with supplies and Rae crouched down to search. Terry could feel eyes burning holes into the back of his head. He looked around, taking note of the few who were curious about him. None of which looked pleased.

“Let me see your arm…Terry?”

He focused his attention back onto Rae.

“Your arm. Can I see it?”

She was holding up some gauze and saline.

Terry curled his arm, exposing the bloody abrasion. Rae went to work cleaning him off with saline. Terry didn’t take his eyes off of her for one second. Rae peeked up at him through her lashes with a sheepish smile.

“You from ‘round here?” Terry asked with steadfast eyes.

“No…I’m from Atlanta. Spent most of my youth in Decatur…”

“Hm…”

Terry staked out the area again with cautious eyes. He took note of people whispering and eyeing him down with curiosity. He didn’t like it. Hated it, actually.

“You?”

Terry brought his eyes that appeared golden down at her face.

“North Carolina.”

“Far way from home.”

“No choice.”

Rae applied some antibiotic ointment to his wound and wrapped him nice and tight with tube gauze. Terry admired her work and how professional it was.

“‘Ppreciate you. Were you a nurse?”

“No. My mother was.”

Terry’s eyes fluttered with interest. He quickly tamed those thoughts and created space between them.

“Thanks for patching me up, I’ll be on my way.”

The footsteps of someone approaching from behind put Terry on guard and he turned quickly to face them.

“Rae, who is this?”

An older woman with coarse, salt and pepper hair pulled back from her face approached them cautiously with a whisper. She had a kind face, but the stress lines on her forehead and the corners of her mouth told him that she worried often. Her dark brown eyes fell towards Terry, eyeing him up and down.

“Mildred…this is Terry.”

Mildred glanced over her shoulder.

“Where did you come from?” Mildred questioned sternly.

Terry took his time responding. He stared into Mildred’s eyes with an unwavering determination. He could feel Rae’s eyes on him, silently telling him to say something.

“He’s an outsider,” Mildred spoke with a low tone through clenched teeth, “The others will return, Rae. They’ll get violent—”

“Who are the others?” Terry asked, more so towards Rae.

“We consider them to be our watchers and hunters. They scout the area for potential threats and they gather supplies and food…”

“Like the one that tried to kill me?”

Mildred cut her eyes to Terry’s wounded forearm wrapped in bandages. She slowly shook her head before her face morphed into anger.

“Rae…what have you done? He could have been infected by the walkers!”

Others began to notice them. They started hovering closer, accusatory eyes glued to Terry. Terry placed one hand on his hip, ready to discharge his gun immediately if anyone so much as tried him. He had a shotgun and a crossbow too.

“He wasn’t infected,” Rae stepped closer to Mildred, “He’s here to find his cousin. That’s all. He came all this way to find him. I’m just trying to help. Isn’t that what we do? Help those in need of shelter?”

Mildred shook her head and pursed her lips in disapproval, “Through inspection FIRST. You know this. Do you not remember what happened the last time? You can’t be so ignorant, Rae. This is dangerous.”

Rae was ready to protest, but Terry placed his imposing frame in front of Mildred, staring down at the woman with an intense expression on his face. He was tired, frustrated, angry. He didn’t have time for this. Mike was his priority.

“I’m not here to cause problems. Rae offered to help me, so I came along. If your so called protectors keep a close eye on what the fuck is going on around here, then they should know about my cousin. His walkie was found by Rae. Somebody knows something, and I’m gon’ get to the bottom of it. Even if that means violence.”

Mildred’s eyelids fluttered as she looked Terry in the eyes.

“You get me?” Terry looked back at Rae, “Thank you for helping me. But I think it’s best I do this on my own. Too many innocent people here…”

Terry’s hazel eyes scanned the underground refugees with remorse. Women, children, elderly. He could feel their pain. He could sense their sadness and worry. He wondered if Mike had found this place while passing through. Did the protectors feel threatened? Did they cast him out and left him unguarded? The more his mind whirled, the more rage consumed him.

They were living in a post–apocalyptic world filled with zombies. You’d think that would bring people together to fight back against evil. No. Silly of him to think so.

“I’ll be on my way,” Terry gave Rae one final look before bowing his head, “Be safe out here.”

“Terry, wait—”

“Let him go, Rae. He can’t stay,” Mildred gripped Rae’s wrist firm, “It’s for the best.”

Rae turned and scowled at Mildred, “Let go of me.”

“If you leave, you can’t come back.” Mildred spoke with malice laced in her voice.

“Good. I’d rather leave then stay here surrounded by a bunch of people that would rather hurt someone than help them—”

“ENOUGH!”

Mildred’s grip on Rae’s hand tightened. Panicked, Rae went into fight mode, prying Mildred’s fingers from her tiny wrist. Others rushed over, trying their best to get between them.

“She’s going to sabotage what we’ve done! Don’t let her leave!”

Mildred’s nails sank painfully into Rae’s wrist. Rae pulled and pulled, knocking Mildred over. Arms laced around Rae’s body to bind her, and she began kicking and screaming. Distant cries from children filled the air as they witnessed the brewing chaos.

“Get off of me! LET ME GO! Get your hands OFF OF ME!”

Pop! Pop!

Frightened screams filled the air. Everyone went still after ducking for safety. Rae followed the sound of a gun and her wide eyes fell on Terry. He had a pistol in his left hand, aimed towards the stone roof of the tunnel. Debris and tiny pebbles fell from its place around him, staining his shirt with dust. Mothers held their children in protective embraces while others coward away. Terry’s no nonsense approach with sharp eyes took in the faces of those around him before his gaze locked in on Rae.

“Get away from her.” Terry spoke with an even yet threatening voice.

Rae wiggled her way out of whoever was holding her back and stared down at the scratches on her wrist that Mildred was responsible for. She glared at the older woman that stared back at her with a guilty expression.

“Rae, you okay?”

Terry lowered his weapon.

“…yeah.”

She looks around her before brushing past them to grab as much as she could.

“You won’t make it out of here alive, Rae.”

Rae paused, turning her attention to Mildred and the others who stood behind her, silently defending the woman Rae once felt safe with.

“Watch me.”

Rae made a beeline for her things and as she packed what she could, Terry stood watch with his gun at the ready. He didn’t take his eyes off of anyone. Rae took long strides towards Terry with a backpack and a carryon. She paused, giving everyone in that tunnel one final look. Her eyes shined with tears as she locked eyes with the children she helped tend to.

“Rae. Are you coming or not?”

She looked Terry in the eyes. He stared back unblinking.

“I am.”

——

Leaves and branches crunched beneath their feet as they made their way through the woods of Sedonia. Terry Richmond silently watched beyond the overgrown trees, keeping an eye out for any threats. A gently breeze swept through Rae’s braids as the sun began to set. Darkness was fast approaching. Rustling in the distance stilled his footsteps. Rae collided with Terry’s broad frame. He put out a large hand, touching her arm to stop her from moving. Rae’s heart skipped a beat when she’d heard a noise.

She glanced up at the back of Terry’s head. Her eyes descended to his arm and she stopped at his hand that had a tight squeeze on his crossbow. He looked down on her and pressed a finger to his lips for her to remain calm and silent. He steadied himself so that his movements wouldn’t create noise and began fixing his crossbow to strike. Rae watched with keen interest, wondering to herself what exactly Terry had seen.

His bow rose, the stock of the crossbow pressed against his shoulder. He adjusted the spring with his thick, skillful fingers before bringing one hazel eye to the scope. Finger on the trigger, he pressed down, the arrow releasing and whizzing through the trees.

Arrkkkkkkkk!

Rae’s breath hitched.

Terry slowly lowered his crossbow, jaw clenching and chest rapidly moving.

Rae could hardly see what Terry was looking at, but from the sound of his target, it was definitely a zombie. He wordlessly grabbed her hand and they quickly weaved through the trees. Rae’s chest burned as she sucked in air, feet pushing against the earth to keep up with Terry’s long legs. She was afraid to fall. Afraid to trip and slow them down.

Terry Richmond reminded her of a soldier. Everything about him. Physically and mentally tough. Proficient. Her grip tightened on his hand, afraid that if his hold on her slipped, he’d disappear and she’d be left alone to die. Despite being apart of the refuge within the tunnels, she’d always known that the protectors of their group weren’t to be trusted. Her suspicions were correct when she’d witnessed what they’d done to a friend of hers.

They fed him to the zombies.

All because he didn’t agree with their policies.

Rae knew that if she stood up for herself, she’d end up like them. Food for the flesh eating monsters. Terry’s entrance into her world gave her a beacon of hope.

“MOVE!”

Terry’s booming voice alerted Rae to the severity of their situation. Gunshots sounded off in the distance, drawing in closer and closer. Rae tried her best to focus in front of her, but the fear of a bullet piercing her back weighed heavy on her conscious.

“I’m trying!”

Her bags were heavy, her thighs burned, and she was in need of her inhaler.

“I ca–can hardly breathe!”

They were fast approaching a warehouse surrounded by a tall chain link fence. Rae’s vision blurred and her throat constricted as she tried her best to breathe in and out. She was going to collapse at this rate.

Pop! Pop! BANG! BANG!

Wood splintered from a bullet that zipped past her head as they ran. Shaky breaths escaped her and just then her foot caught on a root. Rae toppled over, almost bringing Terry to the ground with her if it wasn’t for his controlled balance. Her eyes were spooked as she looked up at Terry. He remained calm, which shocked her despite the threats of the protesters looming closer and the zombies.

“C’mon, I got you. Push up! Quickly!”

Pop! POW!

Terry ducked down and he reached over Rae’s smaller frame to uproot the branch that had trapped her foot. Dirt sprinkled her face as she kicked herself free. With one strong arm, Terry lifted Rae to her feet and without another pause he dragged her along.

“We have to climb! Can you climb?!”

They halted their efforts before the chain link fence. Terry yanked Rae’s bags from her body and strong arm tossed them over the tall fence like he was a Shot Put Thrower. It landed in a heap on the other side. He quickly removed his crossbow and shot gun, leaving a handgun in the waistband of his jeans. They went over the fence, colliding loudly with the ground.

With little time left, Terry urged Rae to climb. She’d climbed the fence before, but the thought of being minutes away from death had her clumsy. Terry stood behind her and with force he placed his hands on her butt, hiking her up the fence as she climbed.

“GO! Don’t stop, Rae! UGH!”

Her fingers pricked the sharp edges of the fence, drawing blood. As the wind picked up, the knowledge of the zombies making their way towards them petrified her. She made it to the top of the fence, swinging one leg over, her jeans ripping from the fence. As she made her way down to safety, she stared ahead, eyes wide as she watched them sprint towards them. Terry climbed with precision and speed.

“Terry!”

He flung himself over and dropped down, falling to his side. Rae joined him, helping him up to his feet.

“They’re coming…they…”

Rae clutched her chest. Terry grabbed their things and threw Rae over his shoulder. He ran for his life, sprinting through the dry grass towards the abandoned warehouse. Gunfire erupted and right before the made it inside, Terry lost his footing as a bullet pierced his shoulder blade.

“AH!”

He dropped to one knee. Rae tugged on his shirt, bringing him further inside as Terry pushed with his feet. He stood and watched as the protectors crowded the fence with their guns pointed at them. Terry released a huff, peeking at them through a broken window. Rae rummaged through her bag and grabbed hold of her inhaler. She wrapped her lips around it and pushed, her lungs filling with the medicine. Instantly, she felt relief.

Exhaling, she rose to her feet. Her eyes fell to the blood stain on the back of his shirt and the hole where the bullet had entered. Thankfully, she’d brought some medical supplies with her. She also has experience in treating wounds. Something she had to teach herself. Just in case she ended up in a situation such as this.

“You’re bleeding out…”

Terry glanced down at her over his shoulder, sweat trickling down his face and neck.

“I’ll handle it. Right now…we need to find a way out of here. Fast.”

Rae studied the old, abandoned industrial building they were inside of. A factory that had been shut down for many years. Long shadows gave an eerie feeling. The building had been waiting for demolition. It gave her a grunge vibe. A floating crane was suspended high above them, creaking from the old chains and iron beams keeping it steady.

“I found Mike’s walkie in this area, along the outer perimeter…”

Terry flexed his back. Pain decorated his face but he remained stoic throughout. He turned his face away to spit before licking his lush lips that were covered with an overgrown mustache.

“So…he must have been hiding here…I bet your protectors knew about it…”

Terry crouched down to grab his shotgun, looping it over his head to rest across his back.

“I guess they don’t plan to climb. Figured since we’re inside, they can keep us trapped.”

Terry retrieved his crossbow. Rae grabbed her bags and silently followed Terry as he walked further into the warehouse. Their movements echoed, broken glass cracking beneath their feet. Darkness blanketed them, and Rae wondered if Terry planned to stay for the evening.

“There’s a back exit. Look.”

Terry pointed to an exposed backway where automatic doors used to be long ago. Pure black stared back at her. She opened her backpack to retrieve a flashlight. Tapping it against her hand, it ignited. Terry looked down at her as she handed it to him.

“You need to keep behind me at all times. We have to keep moving…”

“Okay. Just…don’t get us killed.”

Terry elevated a brow at her but didn’t respond.

As they walked, Rae grabbed Terry’s hand. He cut his eyes at her before tightening his hold. Their fingers interlocked, the roughness of his palm against hers warm and steady. They made it out, flashlight quickly scanning the clearing. The fence stopped at a certain point because of a hill. Any one of them could be waiting to jump out at them. Even a zombie could be there, reaching out their decaying arms.

“Let’s go!”

Terry dashed and Rae was behind him at the same speed

Pop! Pop!

Terry yelled for Rae to duck when a few men came out of hiding. Terry got down on one knee and with his handgun he aimed, firing rounds at them at a speed they weren’t prepared for. Rae watched as each of their bodies fell beneath the moonlight.

“Almost there,” Terry helped Rae up and they continued running. She stepped over a dead body, glancing down into the face of someone she’d recognized. He was just a kid. His dead eyes scared her, causing her to look away.

They made it to the hill, and when they got there, Terry raised his gun again, the bullet entering a zombies chest but it didn’t subdue it. More filtered from the trees, dragging their undead bodies towards the scent of the three lifeless men Terry had killed.

——

Rae had done the unexpected.

Terry could feel himself being tugged on. Rae had pulled the shotgun from him and aimed it at the zombies that were showing themselves. She cocked the gun and blasted off chunks of their withered, grotesque bodies. Terry finished off the ones that weren’t completely dead with precise headshots.

The odor of their flesh permeated the air around them along with the smell of gunpowder. Terry watched as Rae’s arms shook from the shock of it all. He approached her, hands on her arms, guiding the shotgun down. He wrenched it from her grasp and flung it over him again. Rae was trying to process things, body rigid.

“Rae…it’s okay.”

Terry rubbed her back to calm her down. She slowly turned to face him. Her doe eyes blinked up at him as tears rolled down her cheeks.

“I–I thought I was going to die…”

“…I wasn’t going to let that happen.”

They stared at each other for a beat longer. Terry was the first to break eye contact. Those were eyes to get swept away in. Now was not the time to feel anything. He wasn’t there for Rae. Or so he thought. Mike was his main priority.

“It’s late. We need to find a place to lay low until the morning.”

Terry’s stomach rumbled. He hadn’t eaten in hours.

“Somewhere concealed.”

Terry looked at Rae. She pondered his words.

“…there’s a watchtower…not far from here…but there may be protectors there.”

“Good,” Terry squared his shoulders, “Then I can get some answers.”

Terry started walking, Rae on his heels.

“They usually have the place surrounded. It’s a death trap.”

Terry chuckled, “if you haven’t noticed by now, everywhere’s a death trap.” He laughed sarcastically.

“The one that watches from the tower has a rifle. They could shoot us down before we even get to them.”

Terry climbed the dirt hill with a sense of urgency.

“And I have the skills to evade them.”

Terry turned, reaching out his hands. Rae stepped closer and Terry lifted her up and over a stone that was too high up for her to climb over. He sat her down and Rae took that moment to stare up at the giant before her.

“You were a soldier?”

“A Marine veteran.”

“Oh…that explains things.”

Terry tilted his head at Rae.

“Lead the way to the tower. You know this area better than I do.”

Rae looked from left to right with uncertainty.

“Rae, you gotta have more faith in me. We didn’t make it all this way for you to act like I ain’t capable.”

“Fair,” she released a sigh, “It’s this way.”

“Go head,” Terry motioned for her to step in front of him.

Rae accepted the flashlight and began walking westward. Terry had his crossbow aimed at the trees surrounding them. He would stop Rae every few steps, aiming the light at the surrounding area to see if any zombies were nearby. They were probably flooding the warehouse by now with those three dead bodies scattered.

After thirty minutes, a watch tower standing tall on beams with a staircase was up ahead.

Rae and Terry hid behind a tree. From their view, they couldn’t make out anyone on the steps, but there was someone within the tower. The constant movement of a light similar to that of a lighthouse moved around and aimed low.

“This will make it easy for us. We have to stay away from the light.”

Rae turned off her flashlight and Terry took the lead again.

“Gimme your hand.”

Hand in hand, they crouched as they moved. When the light made its way toward them, Terry would pick up speed, sprinting in the opposite direction. The light circled back and Terry charged forward until they were safely out of sight.

“It’s a long way up,” Terry studies the distance, “I want you to stay behind me at all times. Here,” Terry removed his shot gun, handing it to Rae, “Use this if you have to. You know how to handle that thing better than me.”

The teasing look in his eyes and the glimmer of a smile beneath his mustache and scruffy facial hair gave him a youthful look. Rae gave him a small smile that disappeared just as fast when he’d turned his back on her and started making his way up.

They climbed and climbed, Rae periodically turning to make sure she wasn’t being followed. Nearly at the top, Terry slowed his ascent, pausing to look down at Rae.

“Stay here.” He mouthed.

Rae nodded her head and held her place, afraid to look out over the railing because of her fear of heights. The darkness didn’t help make things easier. One false move and she could fall to her death. Rae shut her eyes tight and took calming breaths with the shotgun pressed firm against her chest.

Terry Richmond took measured steps up the last flight of stairs. Finally, he tiptoed forward until he was staring at the back of a man about his height but with a slimmer build. He wore a gray beanie with a heavy–duty utility jacket and dark brown cargos. His feet were covered in dirty Timberland boots. He had a rifle perched next to him while his left hand aimed the flashlight around and his right hand held a pair of binoculars over his eyes.

Terry slowly raised his handgun, aiming it at the back of his head. Too bad he miscalculated things. Another man was hiding in the shadows. He pushed the door shut and pounced, putting Terry in a headlock. The Watcher turned on his heels, dropping the binoculars and aiming the flashlight at a struggling Terry’s face.

“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?”

The Watcher appeared to be a biracial male with a clean shaven face. His beady eyes stared daggers at Terry.

“Answer the question, asshole!” The man holding Terry hostage spoke.

Terry writhed before pushing backwards, the man colliding with the door. Terry’s elbow flew into his chest and he gripped the arm around his neck, using all his brunt strength to twist his arm in the opposite direction. The man shouted in pain so loud he could probably be heard from a distance. Free, Terry planted his fist against The Watchers nose, sending him flailing backwards against the railing.

“Come here!”

Terry put up his fist and started throwing blows, jabbing the burly man that grabbed him in the throat and then hooking him in the stomach. He bent over and Terry sent his knee into his face, cracking his front teeth.

The door flew open and Rae entered with the shotgun raised. She aimed it at the man against the railing, watching as he raised his hands.

“I thought I told you to wait for my signal?” Terry chastised Rae.

She ignored him, too focused on the man before her staring down the barrel of the shotgun.

“Don’t move!” She ordered.

“Rae?”

The Watcher squinted his eyes with a mixture of confusion and betrayal.

Terry was busy with his handgun pointed down at the man that tried to subdue him. He was rolling around on the floor of the tower, clutching onto his arm that was sure to be splintered. Terry glanced over and looked between Rae and The Watcher.

“What are you doing?” He questioned.

Rae hesitated to speak. She gave Terry a weary look.

“I’m leaving the refuge, Billy”

“Leaving? Where the fuck do you expect to go?”

Billy’s eyes landed on Terry with a glare.

“Him? He’s an outsider.”

Terry took slow steps toward Billy.

“Does the name Mike sound familiar to you?”

Billy sized Terry up with a curl of his lip.

“Answer the question.” Terry commanded with his hazel eyes threatening.

“How does he look?” Billy respond with frustration.

“About six feet, slim, black, hair similar to mine. He had on a grey shirt with long sleeves and black pants. Carried a camouflage backpack…”

Billy tried to picture Mike in his mind. His eyes scanned the floor. His eyes widened with recognition.

“…light voice? Goatee?”

Terry froze.

“…yeah. Where did you see him.”

Billy looked between Rae and Terry. Terry turned his attention to Rae. Her expression was hard to read. She could feel his eyes on her, and when she looked at him, he got a sense that she knew more than what she claimed. Terry’s stomach muscles tightened.

Agitated, Terry pointed his gun at Billy with a firm grip.

“Enough of this shit! Where the fuck is Mike?!!!”

“Why the fuck should I tell you anything!” Billy shouted.

Terry charged, hemming Billy up against a pole. Rae lowered the shotgun, watching Terry slam Billy repeatedly against the pole.

“TALK! I swear to god…”

Terry’s lips pulled back into a snarl as he dragged Billy over towards the railing. He tilted his upper body over the railing, one hand around his neck so tight Billy was turning purple in the face.

“IF I FINDO OUT YOU DID SOMETHING TO MY COUSIN! I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!”

Rae jumped at the sound of Terry’s voice.

It scared her. Billy was choking on whatever breaths he had left.

“Terry! Let him up!” Rae pleaded.

Terry looked back at her.

“You know something. Don’t you?”

“I don’t know anything!” Rae shouted.

“BULLSHIT!”

Terry pressed the barrel of the gun against Billy’s temple. Billy shut his eyes, mouthing something that Terry couldn’t discern.

“I’m gon’ ask it one more time before I throw you off this bitch,” Terry clenched his jaw, “Where. Is. Mike.”

“Left for dead! Left for dead! Shit! That’s all I know! We caught him and left him for the walkers! That’s all I know!”

Terry flipped his gun around and placed it in his pants. He yoked Billy up and dragged him to the floor. He repeatedly punched him in the face, blood splattering his shirt and the sound of cartilage and bone crushing.

“Terry! Okay! Okay!”

Rae tried to pull him away but Terry was too strong. She fell back on her butt.

Billy was losing consciousness. Terry gave him one final blow, knocking Billy out cold. His fist dripped with blood and his knuckles were bruised and cut. Terry’s heavy breathing was the only sound. Rae turned her head to look at the other man on the floor.

Terry faced her, a distant look in his eyes as he approached the other man. Rae knew him as Duke. She didn’t interact with him much. Terry crouched down, staring Duke in the eye.

“Think you can tell me where you left my cousin to die, motherfucker?”

Duke’s sweaty face held no emotion as he parted his bloody lips to speak.

“We shot him in the leg and left him on the tracks. Don’t know nothing else. We just assumed he was dead.”

Terry held a slight frown, laugh lines in the corners of his mouth pronounced. He blinked slowly at Duke for a few more seconds before standing to his feet at a slow pace. Rae followed his movements, breath caught in her throat.

“So, you thought it was okay to drag an innocent man to his death and leave him instead of helping him?”

Terry stood over Duke, and Rae watched as his boot pressed against Duke’s throat. Duke began to squirm, veins protruding from his forehead as he fought against the pressure Terry applied. Rae covered her mouth with her hands, unable to look away as the life was sucked from Duke’s body. His eyes bulged and then suddenly he went limp. Terry’s boot remained for ten seconds longer, ensuring that he was dead.

@theereina @bombshellbre95 @planetblaque @trippyscotch @megamindsecretlair @thesweetestdrug @theblulife @blackerthings @deja-r @kanafunee @kaylabuggggg06 @skyesthebomb @blyffe @gwenda-fav @beenathembo @dremmmm @novaniskye @melaninhawtie @urfavblackbimbo @avoidthings @rose-bliss @xo-goldengirl @kinginwithbreezy-blog @mysecertdiaryofableedingheart @sirenmouths @kokokonako @creartivefairy @soulfulbeauty19 @therealmrsrhodes @hrlzy @nayaesworld @playgurlxoxo @gg-trini @brattyfics @flydotty @writingsbytee @shiania @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @kismet83 @aristasworld @sl33p-deprived-princess @erynnnn @itssbrie @melaninangel @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @sweettea-and-honeybutter

[mrfoox]

If I ever get to feel desired mutually I may perish ♥

[ahqkas]

♯ THE TASTE OF HEAVEN . . . sugar daddy ! batboys x fem ! reader

BRUCE WAYNE

bruce wayne doesn’t need to flaunt his wealth because he is the wealth. he doesn’t call himself your sugar daddy—it’s just implied in every action, every gift, and every moment he spends with you. whether it’s a sleek black card handed to you with no spending limit or a private plane waiting to take you to an exotic destination, bruce makes luxury feel effortless

you can forget off-the-rack anything. bruce ensures you have custom clothing, jewelry, and even furniture. he’ll casually remark, “i had the designer make a few changes for you,” as though commissioning bespoke items for you is just another tuesday

his gifts are never tacky or gaudy—this man has impeccable taste, and everything he gives you reflects that. think diamond necklaces that catch the light just right, limited-edition handbags, or handwritten invitations to exclusive events where you’re his arm candy

you’re the arm candy !!! bruce’s automatic date to every high-profile gala, charity ball, and exclusive event. he wouldn’t even think of bringing anyone else. he makes it clear you’re not just an accessory, you’re the highlight of his night

you have a tab at nearly every high-end establishment in gotham. whether you’re shopping for couture or just stopping by your favorite café, bruce ensures you’re treated like royalty. everyone knows exactly who’s footing the bill

bruce isn’t the type to throw money at you just because—he always wants to make sure it’s something meaningful or useful to you. if you mention wanting to start a business or learn a new skill, he’ll quietly arrange everything you need, from connections to resources

while his gifts are extravagant, his affection shows in quieter ways too. when you’re stressed, he whisks you away for a weekend spa retreat. if you’re cold, he’ll drape his expensive coat over your shoulders without hesitation. every gesture, big or small, is about making your life as comfortable as possible

people know bruce is your sugar daddy, but they’re far too intimidated to say anything. the whispered assumptions only make him smirk. he doesn’t care what anyone thinks—if anything, he enjoys the power it gives him to make it abundantly clear that you’re his

despite the sugar daddy thing between you, bruce’s affection runs far deeper. he doesn’t just give you gifts—he gives you his time, his attention, and his unwavering loyalty. the material luxuries are just an extension of the way he sees you: as someone deserving of nothing but the best

he’ll sometimes joke about the arrangement with a mischievous smile. “you’re lucky i’m rich,” he’ll say, handing you keys to a new car or sliding over a box containing some ridiculously rare jewelry. but his tone is warm, his teasing more affectionate than condescending

DICK GRAYSON

unlike bruce, dick doesn’t shy away from the term “sugar daddy.” in fact, he might jokingly call himself that from time to time, especially when handing you an absurdly expensive gift

( dick ‘what’s the point of having all this money if i can’t spoil my girl?’ grayson )

while he spoils you endlessly, he does it in a way that feels personal and heartfelt. every gift, trip, or gesture reflects how well he knows you. if you casually mention a dream vacation destination or a favorite designer, you can bet it’ll show up in your life sooner rather than later

he is the kind of sugar daddy who makes spoiling you fun. he’ll turn shopping trips into mini-games, daring you to try on the most extravagant pieces in the store just so he can gush over how amazing you look. “if you don’t let me buy that dress, i’ll be personally offended,” he’d tease, but you know he’s serious

dick loves being seen with you. whether it’s walking hand in hand down the streets of blüdhaven or pulling up to a gala with you in tow, he thrives on showing the world just how proud he is to have you by his side. and yes, he does things like carrying your shopping bags with zero shame, flashing that charming grin at anyone who stares

doesn’t wait for a special occasion to surprise you. whether it’s a bouquet of your favorite flowers, a new gadget you’ve been eyeing, or tickets to a concert you love, he’s constantly finding ways to brighten your day

with dick, every vacation feels like a scene from a romance movie. he books private villas, sunset yacht rides, and five-star experiences, all while making it feel like the most casual, natural thing in the world. “i just thought we could use a break,” he’d say, as if flying you out to the maldives was as simple as grabbing coffee

he’s always finding ways to make you laugh, even about the relationship itself. if someone gives you a side-eye for carrying a designer purse, he’ll lean over and whisper, “they’re just jealous, babe. can you blame them?” his lighthearted attitude makes the relationship feel easy and natural

with his good looks and high-profile status, the press is obsessed with you two. headlines like “blüdhaven’s golden boy and his stunning girlfriend” are a constant, but dick takes it in stride, often laughing at the exaggerations

“you deserve the world,” he’d say, his blue eyes sparkling. “let me give it to you.”

JASON TODD

jason didn’t immediately step into the role of “sugar daddy.” in fact, he hesitated because he didn’t want his wealth to define your relationship. but as time passed and he saw how much joy he could bring you by easing your stress, he leaned into it—but only his way

for jason, being your sugar daddy isn’t about flashy displays or media attention—it’s about making sure you’re secure and comfortable in a way no one else could provide. he loves knowing you don’t have to worry about rent, bills, or any other mundane stressors. “if i can fix it, i’m going to,” he says simply, brushing off your thanks like it’s no big deal

he might not shower you with gifts constantly, but when he does, it’s jaw-dropping: a rare first-edition book he remembered you mentioned once, a custom leather jacket, or even a dream vacation to a quiet, secluded spot where you can both relax away from the chaos of gotham

jason is practical when it comes to what he provides. he’ll upgrade your phone, stock your fridge with your favorite snacks, and even surprise you with a car when he notices yours struggling. “i’m not about to let you drive around in that death trap,” he grumbles as he tosses you the keys

and while he’s not the type to parade you through expensive stores, jason shows his affection in quieter, more personal ways. he might take you on a motorcycle ride to a hidden gotham rooftop, where he surprises you with your favorite takeout and a designer bag “he happened to pick up”

despite his tough exterior, he has a serious soft spot for you. if you so much as hint at wanting something, he’s already making plans to get it. he’ll pretend it’s no big deal, but his little smirk always gives him away

jason sometimes pretends to be annoyed by how much he spoils you, but it’s all in good fun. “you’re turning me into one of those rich guys,” he’ll grumble, handing you a sleek gift box. but the way his lips twitch into a smile when you beam at him says otherwise

you’ll come home to find an envelope with tickets to your favorite band’s concert or a designer coat hanging in your closet because he noticed the weather getting colder. “what? you think i didn’t notice you shivering last week?”

he doesn’t like the idea of anyone else stepping in to provide for you. if someone so much as jokes about taking you out or buying you a drink, he’s quick to step in, slinging an arm around your shoulders and shooting them a glare. “she’s taken. move along.”

he makes sure you feel safe, cared for, and endlessly spoiled in his own rough-edged, loving way <3

ADDITIONAL NOTE! if you like my work , please consider reblogging and / or commenting . thank you if you do 🤍

[salemlunaa]

VOID STATE EXPLAINED: HOW TO GET THE LIFE YOU DREAM OF ᥫ᭡

A TELL-ALL GUIDE TO THE METHOD EVERYONE IS TALKING ABOUT

so in my asks i have alot of people going “sai, you always go on and on and on and on about the void and different problems people may have, but you never explain what it is and how to get there”And to be honest with you, most of my posts were meant to be that way because i knew of other blogs explaining the void and my blog was just meant to be follow up posts for those who already knew about the void. Although, now i feel more confident and equipped to explain the void in its entirety.

so strap in for this long ass post because this is a gonna be THE guide (if you can’t tell i’m very excited for this post)

i just wanna say that this post is an inspiration and a remix of all those that have inspired me

1. What is the void?

so as you can see yourself and life right now is you in the physical plane (the notorious 3D) you are experiencing the world as *your name* *your lastname*, and your experience is confined by the way that you initially came into the world, being y/n y/ln . The void, originally known as the “I AM” state is when you leave that experience behind, you leave the physical world behind and become nothing and everything at the exact same time. And doing so you can create and destroy absolutely anything in your experience = your reality which is why people call their destination after the void their “dr”=“desired reality”.

2. Why the void?

This method is seen as very effective and efficient once you know how to do it right because it’s a “method” in which your subconscious mind is in full control, which means you can do absolutely anything and that’s not some conspiracy or belief, it is a fact that when entering this subconscious-based meditation state that you can do absolutely anything, which is why i said that you have the power to create and destroy anything in the physical plane, altering your experience. You can change your genetics, your family and friends, your wealth, gender, where you live and much more. You can also redesign things, like a country for you to live in, your age, your s/o’s age, your memories and just your life in general. Just one trip to the void and all that you dream of is yours.

The void doesn’t have to be pitch black you can design it anyway you like, i see alot of people in my dms and asks, saying that the pitch black scares them, but your void can look anyway you want.

personally i’m not scared but i just wanted my void to look cute so i added pink stars to the pitch black

3. How do i get to the void?

There are many ways to get into the void, you can follow a guided many meditation, you can listen to subliminals or waves, you can simply affirm, you can visualise, or you can simply do none of these and go into the void with just the intent, KNOWING that it’s apart of you. You don’t need any method to tap into the void, all you need is yourself and the intent, knowing it’s apart of you and not some magical fairyland. You can enter at anytime of day, because you’re a god and don’t need to be confined to “time”. “Time” is a malleable concept and i’ll be dammed if you guys waste your days because you only believe that you can tap in at night.

4. Problems people have with the void

3 things: wavering, laziness and putting the void on a damn pedestal

a lot of you guys fail to enter the void simply because you try to enter. all the things i have said about the void make it almost impossible to believe, a golden ticket to your dream life with one trip to the void. And because of the fact that we have been conditioned to believe that we have to work for everything we have, this just seems to good to be true. and you see the void as some magical place when it’s YOU, the void is YOU, why do you think you affirm “I Am”? well it’s because the void is literally the state of you being everything but nothing, it is not a place it is a state, hence the void STATE, the “I Am” STATE. it’s a meditative state and that’s it.

When you enter the "I AM" state, why do you affirm phrases like "I am, I am pure consciousness, I am the void, I am unattached to any reality, I am faceless and formless"? It's because these affirmations align you with your divine essence, your true God Self. However, this practice is often short-lived. You enter this state briefly, and when you don't experience any immediate changes or wake up in the same shitty reality, you begin to doubt. You think, "Why hasn't it worked? I must be doing something wrong. I'll try again tonight." This is what wavering looks like. You declare yourself to be in the "I AM" state, but when it doesn’t immediately manifest, you believe it hasn't worked and attempt to re-enter it repeatedly. This endless cycle of trying can confuse your subconscious mind. Instead of truly embodying the state, you're constantly oscillating, creating inconsistency and doubt.

STOP TRYING AND START BEING, OR YOU WILL GET NOWHERE

the void is the easiest thing ever and it is owed to you, because it is you

you can literally enter right now and have every single thing you’ve ever wanted, with just a meditation state, the void isn’t the one with the power it’s you. The void is inside of you and it is lifeless, the only time it gains any power is when YOU step into the equation. As i once said, the void is your bitch not the other way around.

5. Unhealthy relationships

Although the void is one of the best methods i know, i would hate for anyone to accumulate an unhealthy, toxic relationship with the void. The void is as easy as breathing, i know, but it can be alot for some of us to wrap our heads around due to the way we have been conditioned to think (which hurts my heart more than you know). I see people spend months and years trying to get into the void going through an emotionally taxing experience with it. Although i tell people it doesn’t matter how much time you’ve “wasted” and not to let that discourage you because you could really enter now if you put your mind to it (no pun intended) , if you know that it has been eating you up trying for the void going around a constant cycle, please take a break or use other methods.

now with that i say go, go and redesign yourself, deconstruct yourself and create the new you, start from scratch and make your dream self, go to the void and get your dream life.

don’t try, just be 🌊💋

i really hope you loved this as much as i do, now go get your dream life -salem ᥫ᭡

[prael]

Day 2: Covered

IVE An Yujin x male reader smut

words: 6,374 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist

They said you could have been special; you would argue that you are.

Destined for greatness. A bright future. Whichever other way they wanted to express it.

The thing is, not everyone is cut out for the centre stage, and that's okay. You still get to do what you love, surrounded by people who share the same passion and work just as hard. Sometimes in life, you are the backup dancer in someone else's story. Sometimes, you literally are the backup dancer.

Yujin however, Yujin is the star. The one the world adores. The one that everyone around her seems to orbit.

You're just another face in her gravitational pull. You're on the stages and you're in the videos but no one remembers your name. There's probably an edit on Weverse somewhere with a sticker on your face. It's fine though. You've long made your peace with it.

You refuse to let that take away from the fact you spend so much time with An fucking Yujin. You've seen her in every single state, every emotion. She likes her 5 am coffee black and her mid-day one with ice. Yujin loves it when you massage her shoulders after practice and hates it when you play the same song twice in a row. However, the thing she loves above all else (and this can never go public) is having you on your knees—serving her like the queen you know her to be.

That's her secret. It's one you bear—one you're fine with keeping.

The final shoot is tomorrow, and today's practice is over but you know better than to follow everyone else out of the studio. You wait and you linger, and when the room clears out and you're sure everyone has left, you kneel and you wait. Sure enough, she notices and a smile creeps onto her face.

You don't bother to look up. Instead, you stay kneeling, waiting, knowing she's going to make her way over to you.

She does.

You hear her soft footsteps approaching and see the shadow fall over you as she stands there, looking down at you. You look up, slowly, eyes trailing up the length of her legs, over the expanse of her bare thighs and then just as you reach her hips, her fingers slip into your hair. She tightens her grip and yanks your head back so she can stare directly into your eyes.

"Did I say you could look at my legs?"

You gulp, feeling the tug on your hair and the way it makes your scalp burn. Your throat is dry, mouth parted and eyes wide. "No," you respond.

"Then what are you looking at?"

"I'm sorry," you quickly apologise, your hands clenching into fists and relaxing again as she tugs harder, her grip unrelenting.

"Sorry isn't good enough," she scoffs. "Why do I always have to teach you a lesson?"

You open your mouth to speak but the words die in your throat when she shoves you to the ground and kicks her leg out, planting her foot on your chest.

"Take off my shoes, don't talk."

You rush to comply, untying the laces of her sneaker before slipping it off. Yujin switches foot and you obediently repeat the action, putting the shoe beside the first one. You know that you can't allow your eyes to linger, but her bare legs are right over you and it takes all your self-control to look away.

"Socks," Yujin mutters.

You take a deep breath, knowing exactly what she wants you to do. You're slow to reach out, placing a hand on her ankle. She lets you, allowing you to gently lift her leg and slide her sock off, dropping it to the ground beside her. Your hand slides higher, caressing the soft skin of her calf, tracing the contours of her muscles. You're almost distracted until Yujin clears her throat, glaring down at you.

You nod, sliding the second sock off her foot and letting that join the first. You don't know where to look, her skin is right in front of you, begging to be kissed. Her eyes are boring into you, demanding all your attention.

"I don't know if you deserve it," she hums, lifting her foot. She drags her toes over your chest, the ball of her foot pressing down just beneath your collarbone.

"Deserve what?"

"To taste me," she laughs. "Don't think I didn't notice how distracted you were today. Don't think I didn't notice you staring at me."

"I wasn't—"

"Don't lie," she interrupts. "It's a bad habit."

You're so hopelessly disarmed. Lying underneath her on the hardwood floor of the studio with your body burning. She's so beautiful, and it's not fair. It's not fair how the universe created someone who can ruin you so easily and look so effortless doing it.

"You're lucky it's recording today tomorrow. You know what that means."

Like any other day before a big something, Yujin has a need for a release. It's a tradition at this point. The days leading up to something are so full of stress and excitement that it all gets too much and the only way for her to relieve herself is to use you.

You nod. You know exactly what it means.

She lowers her foot, and you feel her toes brush against the crotch of your shorts. You suck in a breath as she rubs up and down the fabric, pressing into you. She's watching your reaction, watching the way you bite your lip and clench your fists.

"You've been bad today. Distracted. Not focusing. Do you think you deserve this?"

"No," you shake your head.

"I don't think you do either." She removes her foot, stepping back.

It's torture. You clench your eyes as hard as your fists, desperate not to act out of turn.

"But you know what I want," she continues as you dare to open your eyes and look up. She's staring at you, hands on her hips. "You know what to do to get back on my good side."

You nod. Of course, you know. It's not the first time you've found yourself on the floor beneath her. You sit up on your knees and shuffle forwards. Her shorts are black and loose. Your fingers slip into the waistband and you tug them down slowly, sliding them over the curve of her ass, past the smooth, glowing skin of her thighs and down to her ankles.

You take a breath. You're so desperate. So hungry. She's wearing the laced panties you like. The ones you bought for her and left in her bag. They hug her so tightly that she seems to be straining against them. Her ass looks perfect, her thighs thick and inviting and her cunt...you can see the outline of her folds. The thin material barely covers her. She knows how much it affects you.

"You're staring again," she huffs, pushing her hand into your hair once more and tugging roughly.

"I can't help it," you whimper.

Her fingers twist and you feel the burn in your scalp once more as you wince in pain. Yujin's hand moves from your hair, dragging down the length of your neck and around to the front of your throat. Her hand squeezes gently, thumb and index finger digging in just below your jaw.

"You can. You will."

You gasp, her grip is tight and you can't breathe, your eyes watering with the pain and the pleasure that it brings. She leans forward, her breath hot against the shell of your ear, her grip tight. You're trembling, shaking with the effort of holding back.

"Beg me," she whispers.

"Let me taste you. Let me kiss you. Please, please let me—"

Her grip on your neck tightens, cutting you off. Your words dissolve into a whimpering mess and your eyes roll back in their sockets as your body melts into her. Her touch, her words, her everything has such an effect on you that it takes you to another world. The only thing that exists is the two of you.

"Pathetic," she scoffs, her lips brushing your ear. "You'll do anything, won't you?"

"Yes," you moan, and you mean it.

"Good," she says as she pushes you away and you collapse back against the ground. "Now make me feel good, will you? I'm sick of waiting."

Yujin steps over you, her legs on either side of you and she pulls the laced underwear to the side, lowering herself down until she's hovering just over your mouth.

She looks ethereal like this, the lights shining down on her. The goddess of your dreams, the star of your story.

"Please, let me—" You don't even need to finish your sentence, Yujin sinks down, pressing her pussy onto your lips and you open your mouth to lick at her. A mouth full of pussy, the taste of her arousal hitting your tongue. She grinds down, the soft skin of her thighs pressing in on either side of your face, trapping you. You lick again, tongue flat against her, licking up from her entrance and over her clit. She grunts and her hips buck forward, grinding her pussy down harder on your lips.

"More," she pants.

And you give it to her. Your tongue laps at her, teasing her clit. Her hips roll and you feel the slickness between her legs growing and it's all over you, coating your face as you desperately reach for her thighs. She slaps your hand away.

"Did I say you can touch?"

You struggle to shake your head between her legs.

"So keep them down."

Your hands go back to your side and she groans in approval, grinding harder and faster, using you like she knows she can. This is so Yujin, to use you like she's nothing but a toy for her to play with. You don't care, you'll do whatever she wants.

You're lost in the moment, your tongue licking, tasting and teasing as you desperately try and find the rhythm she's moving in. Her thighs tighten around your head, trapping you there. You cut shapes across her clit with your tongue and you feel the shuddering of her legs as she whines. She loves it when you write her name with your tongue. The letters spelling out An Yujin.

It's all it takes for you to be consumed by her. She's in your system and all you want to do is make her feel good.

Even the powerful, composed, elegant, Yujin has to succumb in some form to the pleasure. She's been riding you with so much poise and posture. Her back is slightly arched, so above you is just the beautiful expanse of her upper body—clung to by a sweat-soaked white shirt. She's running her hand across her chest, her fingers twisting a nipple as she works herself into a frenzy on you. Her head rolls, her hand moves to the base of her neck and she moans.

She basks in the light shining down on her, and it's a sight to behold. The way it glistens on her skin. The sweat runs down her chest. Her hair, her face. The way she looks when she's so completely in the moment.

"Fuck—" she gasps and her thighs tense around your head.

You're trapped and you're struggling. Your face is covered in slick and your mouth is filled with her taste. You feel like you're suffocating and all you can think is that this is how you want to die, with Yujin all over you. Yet you know there's more to come. She starts to crumble. The poise fades and she leans forward, slamming the palm of her hand against the floor.

She hunches as she rides harder. She's fucking down onto your face. Grinding her pussy on your lips and your chin, chasing the ecstasy that she needs. She's so close you can feel it in the way she trembles. You hear it in her moaning, her whines. She's there. Right there, on the cusp. 

And how you wish you could take hold of her. Grip her juicy ass in your hands and push your mouth against her cunt and fuck her with your tongue. You'd do it. You would. Your hands twitch at the thought. Your fingers curl into the floor instead. There will be no marks on Yujin's perfect skin from your fingers right now. You keep them clenched and do as you're told.

"Fuck—" She grunts, her thighs trembling. You can't move and you can barely breathe. All you can do is lick at her and let her ride you like a toy.

It's enough. Yujin cries out and her back arches, her head falling backwards. She comes and it's the most glorious sight, watching her body tense as her thighs tremble, clenching around your face. She grinds, rubbing against your tongue as she draws it out. It's messy and loud. She's panting, her chest heaving and she moans, rocking her hips and gasping.

It's like the tension washes out of her body and she sinks down, relaxing against you. She sits on your chest, looking down at you, a satisfied smirk on her face. You try to smile back but all you can manage is a dopey grin as you struggle to catch your breath. She's beautiful like this. Her eyes shine bright, the light behind them twinkling. Her skin glows and she looks like a work of art. A masterpiece.

"You did well," she praises, reaching out to touch your face, stroking her fingers across your cheeks, "you always do well for me, don't you?"

You nod. "I'd do anything for you," you say, and you mean it.

"I know you will." She shifts her hips, her thighs clamping down around your face again, restricting your air. Yujin laughs. "You'd let me suffocate you if I told you to."

And you would. You really would.

"But, I still have use for you," she tells you as she dismounts. Yujin relaxes on the floor next to you, her head propped up on her elbow.

You take a breath and roll over to look at her, still gasping for air. She smiles, reaching out and cupping your face with her hand, thumbing the wetness of her from your cheeks. You're a mess, covered in her, and her eyes tell you how much she loves that sight. How much she enjoys the power of having you like that.

Yujin leans over, her lips grazing over yours. The kiss is so light it makes you shiver. A complete contrast to what you've just experienced. She walks this balance so perfectly. The rough and the gentle, the affection and the torment. She's the best at both and she plays with them like an instrument.

"Do you like me?" Yujin blinks innocent eyes and it's a trap that you fall right into.

"Yes. You know that I do. I like you a lot."

Yujin grins. "Do you like my body?" She shuffles closer, looking down at you a little more. "Do you want to fuck me?"

You gulp, your mouth watering as your eyes wander over the curves of her figure, the way her nipples press against her shirt, the way the hem of it has risen, exposing her midriff and how she plays with the lace of her panties on her hip. You're so hard that you're aching and she knows that. You want her, you need her, you'd give anything to feel her.

"Yujin," you whimper. "Please."

"Do you deserve to fuck me? After being so bad today?"

"I can make up for it. I'll do anything—"

"I bet you would," she hums. Her hand reaches out, sliding over your shorts, her fingers grazing over the obvious bulge. "You want it that badly?"

You nod and you're desperate.

"You want to be inside me?"

"Please, Yujin," you whimper.

She grins, tugging at the waist of your shorts and slipping her fingers under the waist. "You want to grab my ass while I ride you like the toy that you are? Do you want me to bounce on your dick, hm? The one that belongs to me?"

You bite your lip as you nod fervently, watching the way her eyes shine and the corners of her lips twist. Yujin lets out a soft laugh at your desperation.

"Then worship me." She pulls her hand away from your crotch and places it on her hip to pose. "Show me how much you like my body."

Yujin rolls onto her back, throws her hands above her head and bends a knee as her other leg stretches out. She looks so perfect, so inviting. So you climb to your knees, looking over her as she relaxes. There's a natural arch to her body between her shoulders and her ass that leaves a sliver of light between the small of her back and the floor. She's an art piece. Like a statue carved from stone, sculpted and designed to be admired. A creation so beautiful and elegant.

And you're on your knees for her, kissing up her outstretched leg. Your hand traces over her thigh. You're slow, taking your time. The skin beneath your lips is so soft, so smooth, so delicate. You don't deserve her. Your lips press into the path your hand paves up her body. Gentle kisses of appreciation on the thigh you adore so much.

"Yujin—" you breathe the words hot onto her skin. A lick, to taste the sweat from her body, a kiss, to mark the spot. A honey-laced laugh rings in the air. "You're so beautiful," you murmur.

Your mouth presses against her hip, tongue trailing over her skin. Your fingers lip up under her tight-fitted shirt. She's so warm. Her body feels like it's burning and her breaths are heavy.

She looks down the length of her body to watch you as your hand slides up, pushing her shirt with it. Your lips graze over your stomach, tongue teasing and tracing over the defined lines. You're in awe of her. She's perfect, and she knows it, but you still want her to know that she's appreciated. That she's worshipped, admired, adored, lusted for, and wanted.

"I know I am," she laughs, "but tell me more."

"An Yujin," you breathe the name into her skin as you kiss your way to her chest, your hand sliding further up her body until the palm of your hand rests on the softness of her breast. "No one is like you," you whisper as you squeeze the mound in your hand, feeling her body beneath you, feeling the way it moves when your hand does. "You're so flawless."

She moans softly when your fingers pinch her nipple. "Keep going," Yujin hums.

"You're stunning," you continue, looking up at her face as you kiss across her chest to the other breast, your hand still fondling. Your mouth hovers over her nipple and your eyes flicker up to meet hers as you lick over it. She gasps and you lick again, teasing and flicking over it. "You're the most decadent, alluring thing I have ever laid eyes on."

"I'm your fantasy?" Her hands move to the top of your head, her fingers twisting into the strands of your hair as you lick, sucking her into your mouth again, teasing her with the flat of your tongue. You suck and she lets out a sharp hiss of a moan.

"My fantasy," you breathe the words against her chest. "You're my dream."

Her hips lift, pushing against you and the growing ache of your erection. The friction, the heat, the feeling of her—it's so good. She grinds, rolling her hips and rubbing against your cock, smirking at the way you whine, your eyes fluttering.

"You want to cum," she taunts. "Don't you?"

"Yujin," you moan her name again as her fingers twist tighter in your hair. Your hips roll down to meet the grind of her body and your mouth finds the crook of her neck. You inhale the scent of her. You're surrounded by Yujin. It's dizzying. She's everywhere. The smell of her, the taste of her on your tongue and lips, the feeling of her skin on your hands, under your body, the sight of her, the sound of her voice. Everything is Yujin, and you can't think of a better world to live in. "I want you," you tell her. "I want to be inside you, I need you."

"I know what you need," she hums. Yujin's hands tug on your shirt and you sit back and pull it off. Her palms press against your chest, pushing you to lie back on the floor. You watch her and the grace with which she moves, kneeling over your waist as she peels her own shirt over her head and tosses it to the side.

Your eyes are all over her body. Yujin's hands run over the softness of her skin, and she cups her tits in her hands, rolling her thumbs over her nipples, her eyes locked on yours as you watch. Her body is a wonderland. There's no part of it that you haven't seen. No inch of her skin you haven't touched or tasted. You know every crevice of it, every mark and blemish, every imperfection. You know them all and you love them. They're the most perfect imperfections you've ever seen.

She knows the power that her body has over you, the control it gives her. Yujin knows how to wield that weapon, how to make it into the sharpest sword, and how to cut you with it.

"Fuck me," you plead, the words escaping your lips in desperation. "Yujin, please."

"You beg so beautifully for me," she smiles, her fingers sliding under the waistband of your shorts. "Lift your hips."

And you obey, lifting them from the floor. Yujin's fingers tug at the fabric, pulling them down your thighs. She smiles at the sight of you, hard and leaking. Yujin's hands slide over your bare thighs. You're exposed, and the feeling of the cool air hitting your skin sends a chill up your spine. Her palms slide up until she wraps one around the base of your cock and her touch sends a shiver through your body. Yujin strokes up, slowly, twisting her hand on the upstroke. Your hips buck at her touch and she grins at the way your cock twitches, the precum leaking across the back of her hand as she reaches the top.

"You're so needy," she says as her hand glides back down. Your eyes are wide, watching every move she makes as if your life depended on it. "I like it," she tells you.

"I'd do anything—"

"I know you would," Yujin laughs, cutting you off. She shuffles forward on her knees until her thighs press on either side of your waist, caging you between her. The way she towers over you, with that look in her eyes that says you belong to her. "You're my toy, aren't you?"

"I'm your toy."

"That's right." Her hand squeezes tighter around the base of your cock as she lifts her hips, hovering just over you. You don't know how long she's going to keep you waiting, you never do. It could be seconds, it could be minutes. She has a sadistic streak that you've never understood and it's always a game of how desperate can she make you before giving in to your begging. "And who does this belong to?" she asks.

"You. Yujin. It belongs to you," you breathe the words, your fingers curling into the palms of your hands.

"That's right, it belongs to me. This cock," she strokes up again. "It's mine. Isn't it?" Yujin's fingers trace up, circling your tip.

"It's yours," you whimper. The desperation has you whining.

"It is," she laughs, and it's a sound that makes your stomach twist into knots. She squeezes you and lifts her hips just a little, enough for you to feel the heat of her body. You feel her thighs squeeze against you as she grinds her pussy on the underside of your cock, dragging the length of you through her folds and over her clit.

Instinct dictates that you bring your hand to her hip, but you know you can't just take hold of her, not unless she's given the go-ahead. You clench your hands tighter, biting your lip to hold in your frustration, your desperation.

Yujin's hips rock against you again, grinding down and using your cock to get herself off. You can feel the slickness between her legs. You can hear the wet sound it makes. She's using you, and she's loving every second. It's the sound you know too well. She's getting herself off. The feeling of her is intoxicating, and your cock is throbbing, twitching as it slides against her pussy, hitting her clit. The moans from Yujin's lips tell you exactly what it's doing to her. How much she loves the way it makes her feel.

You can't touch. You can't take control. All you can do is lie back, your head tipped back against the floor as your fingers grip in vain at the floor, struggling to keep them from reaching out for her. Yujin's body moves like silk in the wind, and you know she's so close. The sound of her, the feeling of her. She's riding the edge, grinding down, the tip of your cock catching on her entrance as she teases you with every move.

"Yujin—" you beg her name as your head falls to the side, eyes clenched closed.

"What?" Her voice is thick with lust and you feel her hand on your chin, gripping your jaw, her nails biting into your cheeks. She turns your face and forces your eyes open to watch the way she moves. "You want to be inside me?"

You can only nod in reply, feeling her fingers tighten around you, squeezing. She grins, leaning over and you feel the breath of her laughter on your neck. Her lips brush your skin. Her teeth nip, biting down on your shoulder, making you wince. Yujin's hips roll forward, and the tip of your cock catches on her entrance. She holds there for a moment, a silent torment of anticipation as your mind swirls and your stomach flips. And then you feel the heat, her warmth as she slowly pushes herself onto your cock. You watch with a hitched breath, your heart hammering in your chest. You feel her. She feels you.

The breath you'd held rushes out, a gasping moan, the feeling of being enveloped by her body. The tight warmth as Yujin sinks all the way down. Her pussy grips your length, squeezing tight and you can feel the way it flutters, the way it grips, the way it clenches around you. Your eyes meet hers, and you can see how much she enjoys having this effect on you. How she loves the way you react, the sounds she forces you to make, the way you squirm and gasp beneath her. She owns you. Completely. Utterly. Irrevocably.

Her hands press down on your chest, and she starts to move, rolling her hips, circling, lifting up just enough that she can feel you slide in and out of her. You can feel it all, you're aware of every movement she makes. How she grinds her clit against your body on the downstroke, the way her hips tilt to find the right spot, the way she moans when she hits the perfect angle. The way she moves when she finds the right pace, the perfect rhythm. It's everything and all at once.

"You feel so good inside me," Yujin purrs. She leans back, placing a hand on the top of your thigh. Her body is open to you. She's exposed. The panties she still wears are pulled to the side, her breasts bouncing with every move of her body, her stomach tightening, the soft skin pulled taut as her abs clench. She's a sight, a beauty to behold and a treasure to worship.

"Yujin, please," you breathe the word into the space between the two of you. It's not enough, you need to touch. You have to. But you're trapped and she's in charge. "Let me touch you."

"No." It's simple, the way she says it. It's like she's not even thinking about the effect she's having on you like she doesn't even realise what she's doing to your sanity. She rides you like a toy, her hips moving, grinding down, her thighs squeezing and relaxing as she works. You can only whine, lying back against the ground. You watch as she takes what she needs from you, her hand slipping down her stomach and to her clit, circling quickly as her moans fill the room. "This is my cock," she breathes, "and I'll do what I like with it."

"Yes," you hiss as your hips push upwards, your hands balled into fists at your sides. You're so hard it hurts. It aches and it throbs, and all you can do is lie back, trapped beneath Yujin and her powerful thighs. "Yujin—" you breathe, but the words stick in your throat.

Her eyes are dark, the lust-filled pools staring down at you as you lie back, completely helpless and at her mercy. Your cock twitches and she gasps, her hand on her clit, rubbing furiously, chasing her release. She's getting closer and closer with each passing second and it shows in her face. Her brow creasing, lips parted and eyes fluttering.

She's fucking herself on your dick. Yujin is using you to get herself off and you love every second of it. The feeling of her walls gripping you tight, squeezing, her body clenching around you. The way her thighs tense and shake as she moves. Her moans, her gasps. Her eyes are on you, watching you watch her.

Yujin gasps and her body shudders, her pace quickening, her fingers circling faster, rubbing frantically at her clit as she chases her orgasm. You know how close she is, and all you can do is watch her face as she gets closer and closer. Her body is shaking, trembling as the wave builds inside her. Her moans get louder, and more intense. Her fingers work harder, and you feel her tightening, the walls of her pussy squeezing down, and then she cries out, her head tipping back, her body arching, her chest pushing out as she rides the waves of her orgasm.

It's beautiful. The way her body reacts to it all, the way she looks when she comes undone. Yujin moans your name and it sends shivers up and down your spine. She looks ethereal like this. A deity to be admired. A queen on her throne.

She's beautiful. She's breathtaking. She's Yujin.

When the waves stop crashing, Yujin collapses onto you, her body limp and spent. The warmth of her body pressed against you feels like heaven and your cock is still inside her, pulsing, aching, begging for its own release.

"I don't know if I should let you cum," Yujin pants in a whisper, her face pressed against your shoulder, the hot breath on your skin sending shivers down your spine. "Could just leave you here like this. All hard and frustrated. Aching. You'd probably go home and get yourself off thinking about me."

She's right. Of course, she's right. You would.

"Or maybe you can show me just how much you appreciate me," she breathes, pushing herself up, hands on either side of your head. "Would you like that?"

"Anything," you tell her. Your hands twitch, desperate to reach up to her. "You know I would."

"I know." She smirks and sits up. Her hips lift until you feel your cock slipping out of her, her wetness dripping onto you. Yujin's fingers trace over the mess she's left, smearing it on her fingertips before bringing it to your lips. You know what she wants. She doesn't even need to ask.

Your mouth opens and she pushes her fingers between your parted lips, letting you lick them clean. You suck her fingers and her eyes watch you, a glint of something dangerous shining. She pulls them out slowly, dragging the tips over your bottom lip. "Good," Yujin breathes the word as she climbs off of you and turns around.

The curve of her ass is a beautiful thing to see. It's soft, smooth, plump. She catches a glance at you staring, a smirk tugging on her lips. She plants her hand against her ass (a harsh reminder that feeling it yourself requires her permission) and squeezes the flesh before letting out a laugh. It's all a game to her.

"You're going to show me, by cumming for me. Cumming on me." She settles back onto the floor, gracefully lying back into a pose. "You have two minutes. Two minutes to show me how much you love my body." She runs a hand from her chest all the way to her hips and you watch, entranced by every movement she makes. Yujin laughs again. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

The words kick you into action and you scramble to your knees and shuffle towards her. She laughs at the sweet, sweet honey sound that makes you melt. Your hand wraps around the base of your cock, the wetness from Yujin's pussy coating it, slick and smooth as you slowly stroke your length. You stare at her, watching the way her chest rises and falls with each breath, the way her fingers trace up and down the skin of her thigh, the way her tongue darts out to wet her lips.

It's intoxicating. You're drunk on Yujin, high off of her beauty, and you're addicted. There's no going back. You're hers, completely. Your fist tightens around your length and your strokes quicken. The feeling of it is so good and your cock is still throbbing from being trapped inside her. You can feel the lingering heat of her body on your skin. The scent of her, the taste, the sound. It's everywhere. Surrounding you. Enveloping you. Engulfing you. Consuming you.

"Two minutes," she hums the reminder, her fingers sliding between her thighs. Yujin's fingers slide over the panties she still wears. "Two minutes to make yourself cum for me. To make a mess of my body."

"Yujin," you whimper her name like it's a prayer. The sound of her voice, the sight of her body. The knowledge of what you've done, of what you've experienced. You've been inside her. You've had the taste of her on your tongue, the sound of her in your ears. Her pussy is still dripping and her thighs glistening. You're still so hard that you're aching, and all you can do is stroke yourself. All you can do is pump your hand and feel your fingers glide up and down your shaft.

Your eyes flicker from the smooth, warm, inviting skin of her chest to her pussy and back. You've tasted her. You've felt her. You've felt the way she grips and clenches, the way she feels. The sound of her when she cums.

"I don't know if you can do it. I don't know if you can cum." Yujin teases and she knows how to play you. "One minute."

"Yujin," you moan her name again and again as you feel it building. The pressure. The heat. Your cock twitches in your hand as you stroke. The sensation of the wet heat, the friction, the knowledge that Yujin is beneath you, but you're hers to command, to control. It's too much and it's everything. You feel it in your core, a twisting, coiling, winding tension that's threatening to snap.

"Do you want to cum on me?" Her voice breaks through the fog. "Do you want to mark my body with your cum? Make a mess of me?"

She throws her hands above her head, stretching out her body and presenting herself for your load. "Thirty seconds," Yujin warns, the hint of danger on the tip of her tongue.

"Yujin—" You can only whisper her name as you stroke. Hard and fast, gripping and twisting. You're so close. Right there, standing on the precipice.

"That's it. Be a good boy for me," she praises. "Show me how much you adore me."

"I—I—" Your words die in your throat, a gasping, breathless moan. You're cumming, the tension snaps and it's all too much. The pleasure rushes over you like a wave. You're drowning in it. You're suffocating. Your hips stutter, thrusting into your fist, pumping your length as you feel the hot spurts of your cum painting over Yujin's perfect, beautiful skin. The first spurt splashes across her breasts, the second spattering across her stomach and chest. Her laughter fills the room. She loves this, seeing the way she's ruined you.

Your body shakes, your hand slowing as the final drops fall from your cock to the expanse of Yujin's body. Your mind swims as you struggle to breathe. Your head spins and your vision is blurry. She's laughing, her fingers swiping through the cum, rubbing it into her skin. Her hands roam all over her body and you're entranced. Your body feels like jelly as you collapse, slumped onto your side on the floor beside her.

"Good boy," Yujin purrs, her hand sliding over her stomach and down between her legs, rubbing at her clit with your cum. She's smearing it everywhere, all over her pussy, her fingers slipping between her folds and then back to her clit. It runs over her chest, dripping down the side of her tit. Her breath hitches and you watch, mesmerised by her. "Such a good boy."

"Yujin," her name falls from your lips as if you've lost all other words, the way a prayer is uttered, reverently and devotedly. "I—"

She laughs again. It's light and playful. "I know. I'm the best, right? You're so lucky."

"Yes." It's the only thing you can think of to say. You are lucky. So unbelievably lucky.

[amaranthineghost]

THE MIGHTY HAS FALLEN (BUT YOU'LL RISE AGAIN, LOVE) ( max verstappen. )

max verstappen x reader

after a tough race cut short, max pushes away any person around him, but not her. never her. she always picks up the pieces to put him back together.

authors note: I love max. I know he's not the self-deprecating typa guy, but in this, he is, OKAY. charles is after this <333

HE WAS A BOMB. the fuse getting shorter and shorter every minute that his patience was tested. everything around him seemed to irritate him more and more as he tried to keep himself from exploding, for pr's sake.

he just wanted to avoid the media all together, for obvious reasons, but he was contractually obligated to give his words to the journalists under the media tent. putting him under a microscope and asking questions that had an undertone of scrutiny in hopes of catching him break. he was close, but he wouldn’t.

it hadn’t even been a fault of his own, he rarely made those anymore. the car had caught fire, but not due to a mistake he had made, and even if it had been, he wouldn't have admitted it anyways. still he felt the guilt of his lack of performance, beating himself up after every question asked about his car and what had happened.

it was just stupid. the questions were stupid. the car was stupid. this whole race was stupid.

the pressure to perform, even in the best car on the grid, was high. despite his seat being secured for plenty of years to come, he still had expectations to meet and records to break.

it was obvious to everyone that max was hard on himself every time he didn't perform his best, his girlfriend especially noticing when she’d find him in his very luxurious driver's room sulking at even the slightest of a mistake made by him.

it didn't happen often, but when it did, she'd been there for him. he knew that.

he wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and never be seen again because world champions don't make stupid mistakes.

even if this hadn't been a mistake he made, he should've known. even if there was no possible way he could’ve, he should've.

he was raised to believe that he was only deserving if he had been first, that he was destined to fail after every second place or worse finish.

so it wasn't surprising when he thought he didn't deserve her. in comparison, or more like his eyes, she was simply perfect.

and she understood him, which not many people could because he wouldn't let anyone pick apart his brain like she did.

he locked his thoughts and feelings in the dark that shrouded his mind from early childhood trauma. he promised he would never let anyone see.

but he was never great at keeping such promises because it hadn't taken much for her to pick the lock to his brain. even though he wasn't ready to spill every detail of his upbringing to her, he trusted her.

and he didn't get to do that all too often.

the media had been brutal—he knew they would be—and yet it still crushed his mentality and faith in himself.

with his race suit around his waist despite having time to change beforehand, he walked through the paddock in shame at the early retirement.

it wasn't like this determined the outcome of his career because the next race, he'd be back on top. he didn't feel so sure of it though because all his thoughts were on this failure. what if he failed the next race?

what if he failed the whole season? what if he fails her?

unlikely, the people know, but he had so much confidence which had so easily crumbled when it got a little too hot. he wasn't sure of himself anymore.

anyone could see the turmoil bubbling underneath his skin, harsh waves crashing in the ocean of his blue eyes as he pushed past anyone and everyone.

the walk through the paddock was short, considering the red bull motorhome was the first of ten. max hastily entered through the automatic doors, skipping steps as he was eager to hide out in his driver's room.

he felt the eyes of the staff follow him down the hall until he disappeared quickly around the corner. he didn't want to be seen by anyone.

the door to his driver's room closed as fast as it was opened, but much louder. she heard the slam of the door echo down the hallway.

she didn't flinch, she just calmly greeted staff with smiles and left a bag of sweets on the table for them. she always brought something for the team, to celebrate every victory and despite this not being one, they still deserved it for working hard.

since she had gotten there not too long after him, she lingered around the lobby. she didn't want to be waiting around for him to show up and have him brush her off because he wasn't in the right headspace.

he would never mean to dismiss her, and she knew to give him at least a little time to himself to think and process things. she couldn't give him too much time though because she didn't want his self-deprecating thoughts to eat away at his confidence.

from what she analyzed from the staff and their demeanor, he'd probably caught them off guard when he slammed his door.

she wouldn't apologize for his behavior because she would make him do it when he cooled down.

so she hung around and made small talk with the sparse staff around to allow max a few minutes to himself before excusing herself down the hall.

she had a bomb to defuse after all.

the clack of her heels on the hard floors bounced off the walls, but she walked quietly enough so max didn't hear her coming. he knew she would though. he knew she would find him with his head in his hands, barely covered in sweat because he didn't race for more than three laps.

his face was still flush with disappointment though. he didn't want her to see him like this even though she was with him during his last disappointing race, but even though his singaporean grand prix finish wasn't great, at least he hadn't been out of the race.

max hadn't DNF’d in two years because he was simply just that good, and he still is. he just didn't feel like it.

his hands pressed so hard against his eyes, the blood vessels in them would have popped if he pushed any harder. he had taken off his red bull hat, he felt he didn't deserve the number one right now. it was thrown lazily onto the makeshift bed in his driver's room.

the room was practically silent, every so often interrupted by a deep sigh of disappointment that escaped his lips. he had sat there for a good couple or minutes, sulking.

when she reached his door, she held the bouquet of flowers she always got for him close to her body with one arm while she raised the other to knock. her hand only slightly hesitated before her fist made contact with the door and a few seconds later, she tried entering. it was locked, which was usual whenever he was brooding.

at first, when max heard the knock, he thought of all the people last on his list that he would want to see right now, but on the bottom of the list was the person he wanted to avoid the most right now.

his dad.

their relationship was rocky. he never supported max at any place unless it was on the very top of the podium, and even then max thought he looked unpleasant.

“go away,” was all max could mutter through his hands as his heart started to pick up the pace.

she sighed, shaking her head with a smile pulling at her lips, “max.” it was all she needed to say.

part of him didn't want to let her in, he didn't want her to see him like this, but he knew she was just as stubborn as him, if not more. he knew she would stand there all day if he didn't open the door to let her in.

and he would always let her in.

she heard the low creak of the sofa she could imagine him sitting on, but not his footsteps while he made his way to the door. she only knew he heard her when the lock clicked and the door slowly opened inwards to reveal the red-faced max verstappen.

she stood staring at him, her head tilted as she studied his face. he didn't move, he just watched her eyes dart around his appearance, and he felt himself getting hot under his fireproofs.

“are you going to let me in, verstappen?” she teased, a sly smile on her lips as she watched her boyfriend roll his eyes.

he scoffed, stepping aside, “don't call me that.”

“what?” she acted innocent, stepping into his driver's room with the fresh flowers, seeing the already prepped vase, “don't call you by your name?”

“you know what I mean.” though he tried to keep a straight face and act like he was still mad, he couldn't keep a smile from creeping onto his lips. she just had that effect.

she heard the door close and lock again as she took the wrapping off and placed the flowers in the vase. she shrugged at his words, her back still towards him, but she knew he had sat back down.

“you didn't have to get those,” he mumbled, “didn't win.”

she sighed, crumbling the wrapping in her hand and throwing it away before walking to where he sat. she stood in front of him as he looked up at her.

even with heels, he was still much taller than her and even though he was sitting, he reached barely below her chin.

she spread her arms to offer a hug to him, which he gratefully took, his arms snaking around the low of her hips. pressed against her chest, her arms wrapped around his head, running her fingers through his hair.

she felt him sigh against her skin, his eyes closing as they stayed like that for minutes without speaking. she felt him caress the bare skin of her thigh with his thumb.

when they finally pulled apart, his hands still laid firmly on her hips, his hair disheveled from the hug. she ran her hands through it to fix it and he only watched as she did so.

when she finally finished after only ten seconds because guy hair is a lot less complicated than women’s hair, he finally spoke up, “why are you dressed so uncomfortably?”

she was slightly taken aback, seeing as he was just moping about his race not even ten minutes ago and now commenting on her appearance. he only assumed she was uncomfortable, but unfortunately his assumption was correct.

“what do you mean?” she looked down at her attire, which isn't so different from the other wags that she hung out with.

his hand snuck around the back of her thigh and pulled up her leg, “I thought I told you to stop wearing heels, you always complain about them.”

“i’m fine,” she said, about to cross her arms, but her balance said otherwise so she settled them on his shoulders for support.

he gave her an incredulous look because every time she wore heels, without fail, she would complain less than an hour into wherever they were that she wanted to sit.

“okay, i admit i can't wait to get these things off,” she let out a deep breath, putting a hand on her hip, “but I'm supposed to be taking care of you.”

she said in his response to take the heels off her feet for her, a simple gesture really, but this was about him.

“do you want to talk about it?” she massaged his shoulders as he threw her heels to the other side of the small sofa.

“nothing to talk about,” he shrugged, “maybe I don't deserve being first.”

she pushed his head to look up at her, shaking her head, “you just don't realize how much you deserve, max. you're a world champion, a three-time one,” she reassured him, “you've won countless races, and you still have the entire season ahead of you. I know you want to, but you can't let one bad race define your season.”

“I know, you're right.” he bit the inside of his cheek as he thought deeply, “but I have to prove myself.”

“you've already done that plenty of times,” she shook his shoulders in emphasis, “besides you'll still lead the championship, unless charles gets p1, but you'll get it right back if that's the case.”

she was right. she always was, he never doubted her. he would never doubt her because she would never lie to him. she always backed up her answers by building up his ego and confidence back up so he was ready to fight it out on the track next race.

whether it took a couple of minutes or hours to bring his mood back up, she'd take her time in making him feel like the champion he was again.

she would take his phone from him, he didn't need to see the articles being written or the missing phone calls from his dad.

all he needed was her and she would always be there.

—

taglist (found here): @slut4lrh @taylorslovesswifties13 @sbella13 @kaa212 @nhlfs

proofread by @foreveralbon <333

[autolenaphilia]

Edit: as hoshi9zoe pointed out, the original version of this post needlessly berated other transfems like Jennifer Coates, for which I do apologize, and I have toned it down in this edited version. The original version survives in reblogs.

Some months ago, I was searching through this transandrobro blog to see if they posted a callout of me, and i found this reblog, which I couldn't really write about for months, because what do I even write. I recently wayback machined it for posterity, and I guess this is my attempt to write a post about it.

It's saint-dyke himself, the coiner of transandrophobia, saying that the infamous (at least for me) article "I am a transwoman. I'm in the closet. I'm not coming out" is what made him coin the fucking word. It's literally bolded and underlined: "Reading this article is what made me coin “transandrophobia”.

The reason I put off writing this post is that reading that article makes me feel like i'm drinking poison. And it is poison, make no mistake, it's internalized transmisogyny brainworms dripping out of the writer's brain and onto the page.

It's a justification for why the author, known by pseudonym Jennifer Coates, doesn't want to transition, despite knowing she is a trans woman. And it's the exact kind of internalized transmisogyny that keeps trans women in repression and not transitioning. "I'm not going to pass, i'm forever going to be an ugly freak who will at best be humored by other women, the closet is uncomfortable but at least it's safe"

It's the same exact bullshit a lot of represssed trans women tell themselves because it's what society tells us about trans women, that we are freakish parodies of women, that we will never pass, and if we don't pass we have failed and are ugly freaks. It's all to scare us into staying in the closet and make others hate and fear us. Transmisogyny permeates our society, and the majority, maybe all transfems will absorb and internalize some of it.

Coates says that it all is just applicable to her, but again so many transfems believe this shit before transitioning and realizing it's a pack of lies. If this bullshit was in any way valid, a lot of trans women shouldn't transition, because before we actually transition many of us believe it word for word. And "it's only true for me" is how we justify it to ourselves. We tend to be way harsher on ourselves than others. This kind of self-hating transfem tends to think: "Other trans women are beautiful graceful goddesses, earthly manifestations of the divine feminine, always destined to be women, while I'm an ugly forever male ogre who just has a fetish."

It's all bullshit, it's poison, it's internalized transmisogyny.

And the rest of the article is bullshit too. It is not some insightful mediation on gender as some people say, it's the author confusing and mixing up actual transmisogyny with an imagined problem of misandry. She does this because she has gone full repression mode, and decided she has no other choice to live as a man, so her dysphoria and experiences of transmisogyny are actually men's problems.

It's a bad article, excusable because as Coatas points out, it's "essentially a diary entry." that was meant to be a way to "vent frustration" and she "did not intend for anyone else to actually read it." It is clearly not the product of a healthy mind.

I hope the author sometime in the past seven years eventually did transition, and that for whatever reason she didn't want to publicly repudiate her own article. Maybe she lost access to the medium account so she can't delete it.

Far worse than the article itself is the response to it. I've seen it passed around as some insightful commentary on gender by the "feminists are too mean to men, misandry is real" crowd. I have argued against this before. And other people have made insightful comments about it.

And learning that saint-dyke claiming that he was inspired to coin the word "transandrophobia" because of this article is the cherry on top of this shitcake of transmisogyny. For my thoughts on "transandrophobia" theory and how transmisogynistic it is, see here.

Of course, Saint-dyke absolutely could be bullshitting here. Claiming that Coates's article is what inspired him to coin the word might be a lie to claim that transandrophobia theory is not transmisogynistic because it came from listening to trans women.

This is why "listen to trans women" doesn't work. Because TME people will always choose a trans woman who confirms their prejudices. Blair White has made an entire career out of this. And Coates article is popular because it says that misandry is real and trans women's issues are partly caused by it, misgendering herself and other trans women.

And it's popular for another reason. Coates has thoroughly internalized transmisogyny, and thus her article presents a trans woman that is exactly as transmisogynistic patriarchal society wants her to be. She is suffering, but ultimately accepts her assigned role. She truly believes that her biological sex dooms her to forever be male. She literally "manages her dysphoria by means other than transition" as conversion therapy advocates want us to do. She never makes an social claim on womanhood by actually transitioning, so she doesn't invade the sacred women's spaces. Yet she performs the role of woman perfectly by serving men, by defending them from supposed feminist misandry. And she fulfils the ritualistic role that the rhetorical figure of "trans women" sometimes serves in progressive spaces, of giving a blessing to TME people's pre-existing views and actions, all while actual flesh-and-blood trans women are destroyed by those same deeply transmisogynistic spaces. This time it's a blessing for the same "misandry is real" soft-MRA bullshit that has infested the online left and created the transandrophobia crowd.

That is why this article and the positive response makes me sick, makes me feel like i'm drinking poison. This is what its fans want trans women to be like. I'm acutely aware this kind of self-denial is exactly what transmisogyny wants from me and tried to indoctrinate me into doing it. And I want none of it. I want to live, I want to be a woman.

[solxamber]

Burn Wild — Leona Kingscholar x reader

Always so close, yet so far away. Leona pushes it down—he keeps pushing and pushing, until one day, he lets it break.

(it's a happy ending, i swear)

Leona Kingscholar has always known his place in the world. From the moment he learned to walk, to stand tall under the endless, unforgiving sun of the Sunset Savanna, he has been acutely aware of how people see him. They don’t need to say a word—he feels it in the heavy silence that follows him into a room, in the guarded glances cast his way.

Most are terrified of what he represents: the second prince, a shadow of the royal bloodline, someone who could inherit a kingdom but never will.

Others fear him for his strength, the quiet, coiled power beneath his lazy exterior, or for his sharp tongue that cuts deeper than any blade, cleaving through pretense and weakness alike.

“Lazy,” they whisper behind his back, as if the word can sum up the depth of his disdain for this farcical game of status and power. “Unmotivated,” they say, because they can’t understand why someone with the world laid at his feet doesn’t fight harder to claim the throne, to claw his way up and tear it from his brother’s grasp.

They’ll never understand. They’ve never felt the weight of a crown that will never be theirs, the hollowness of a title that means nothing but second best. Let them carry that burden for just a day, and see how long they last.

He could laugh at how little they know.

If he could trade this title, this empty prestige, for even a sliver of genuine acknowledgment, he would. To be seen—not as a prince, not as some spare destined to live in the shadow of his older brother—but as Leona, the man. The individual.

The soul that yearns for more than the scraps of attention thrown his way, like bones to a dog. But life, he knows, isn’t fair. It wasn’t made to be. And for someone like him, it never will be.

So he doesn’t hope for fairness. He doesn’t look for understanding. Instead, he pushes it all inward, presses it deep into the corners of his heart where no one can touch it.

When people try to get close, when they think they can soften his edges or pry into the depths of his guarded soul, he meets them with sharp words and a glare that freezes them in place.

They’ll never know how much easier it is to be feared than to be seen, how much safer it feels to keep everyone at arm’s length.

He is second in line, but he’ll never be second to anyone. He’ll make sure of that. He’ll keep himself locked away, out of reach, untouchable.

If they can’t see past the crown, past the sharpness in his words or the laziness they accuse him of, then they don’t deserve to know him. Let them think he’s content in the shadows, in his naps and biting remarks, in the mask he wears so well.

There’s no use wishing for something different. He’ll never be number one, and that’s a truth he’s long since swallowed. But even so, a part of him, buried deep where even he rarely dares to look, still longs for more.

For a world where he isn’t just the spare, where he isn’t second to anyone. A world where someone might see him—not the prince, not the title—but just him.

But that world doesn’t exist, and it never will. So he keeps it all buried, locks it all behind a wall of indifference, letting the bitterness settle in his bones. Maybe, in the end, it’s enough to live in a world that has no place for him.

At least that way, no one can ever mistake him for someone else’s second choice.

Leona doesn’t actually nap. He just lies there, eyes half-lidded, watching the sky or the flicker of light on the walls. Sleep doesn’t always come; it’s not that he needs it.

No, it’s the weight of disinterest, the apathy that’s soaked deep into his marrow, making it seem pointless to do anything else. Why bother? When every glance cast in his direction is the same hollow reverence for a title, a prince without a crown.

When no one bothers to look past that thin veil, why should he try to show them anything more?

There’s a strange kind of comfort in that inertia, a quiet understanding that nothing will change. People like things easy, predictable.

They would rather see the lazy, unmotivated prince who naps through life than ask why. It’s easier for them, and maybe even for him.

But then, there are those like Ruggie. Leona likes people like him. At least Ruggie’s honest. The kid wants what he wants, makes no illusions about it. There's a rawness to his hustle, the clarity of someone who doesn’t pretend to care about who Leona is beyond his utility.

But you? He never bothered to learn your name, never even gave you a second thought. You would be like the others, surely. Just another face in the crowd. Another person who would pretend to care, only to be drawn by the allure of who he was supposed to be.

So when he overhears your voice one lazy afternoon, chatting with Ruggie like it’s the most natural thing in the world, he almost doesn’t bother to look. Almost. Boredom, though, is a dangerous thing, so he tilts his head just slightly, his gaze barely cracking open to take you in.

There you are, talking, smiling with Ruggie like you’ve never had a care in the world. He watches the way you casually hand over your lunch, like it’s the most effortless gesture. Not out of obligation, not for any hidden motive. Just... because.

It grates on him. That smile of yours, that careless generosity. It makes something bitter stir in his chest, gnawing at the edges of his quiet disdain.

You have no idea, do you? That simple act, that thoughtless kindness—it’s not going to change anything.

It won’t make the world any softer for you, won’t stop it from grinding you down until you feel as jaded as he does.

He closes his eyes, shutting you out, trying to shake off the irritation curling around his ribs. Maybe that’s the thing that gets under his skin the most—that privilege of yours, of someone who hasn’t been broken yet.

Of course, life never lets Leona catch a break. He’s dealt with enough by now to know that any moment of quiet is always followed by something—someone—determined to disturb his carefully cultivated indifference.

This time, it’s you. Paired with him for some group project. The usual routine would be simple: the others would either be too intimidated to approach him, or they’d accept a bribe, a few coins to make it easier on both sides. But you? No, you seem hellbent on dragging him into this.

He still remembers the first time you approached him after class, all bright-eyed and earnest, asking for his number like you had no idea who he was. No idea what kind of reputation he held.

He stared you down, letting his eyes narrow into the glare he knows works every time—cold, dismissive, enough to make anyone with half a brain turn and scurry away. But you didn’t.

You tilted your head, smiled at him, as if the weight of his stare didn’t bother you in the slightest. That moment felt like a spark catching in the dark, a flicker of something unfamiliar in his chest.

But Leona, who has long since mastered the art of burying unwanted feelings, shoved it down without a second thought. That’s how it’s always been. If something gets too close, too real, he locks it away, deep beneath layers of practiced indifference. He’s never let anyone chip away at that wall, and he’s not about to start now.

Yet, you’re relentless. No matter where he goes to escape, you somehow find him. He’s sure Ruggie’s been eating like a king for weeks, considering how often you bribe him for information.

You show up in the strangest places, dragging your backpack along, always with that same smile. And, slowly, Leona starts to let you in—not that he’d ever admit it. Not out loud, not even to himself. But for the first time, he lets someone work with him, just to get you off his back.

But there’s something else too. Leona struggles with control. His whole life has been shaped by what’s been taken from him, what’s been denied. Every opportunity to exert control, to hold power, he seizes it, because it’s the one thing that can’t be stripped away.

So when he gruffly barks orders at you, expecting a flash of resistance, a bite back, he waits. And again, there’s that smile. That stupid, persistent smile. You don’t challenge him; instead, you calmly suggest changes, as if negotiating with a lion was just another part of your day.

And for the first time, Leona feels that flicker in his chest burning a little brighter. He doesn’t like it. It’s unfamiliar, and everything unfamiliar is dangerous. That’s the mistake he made before—letting himself believe that anything good could come from letting his guard down. He locks it down again, hard, throwing the key to the furthest corner of his mind.

He won’t make that mistake again. He’s too old, too wise for that now. But the flame, small and stubborn, remains.

Leona Kingscholar knows exactly what he's capable of. Spelldrive isn’t just a game for him—it’s an arena where his talent roars, where his strength becomes undeniable. He knows he's good. Better than most, and yet… not better than him.

Malleus Draconia—towering, unbeatable, and utterly maddening in his ease. The prince of the fae seems to glide through every match, effortless, as if strength itself bends to his will.

And it gnaws at Leona, festers in a corner of his mind that he tries to forget. Malleus has everything Leona could want—power, status, recognition. And the worst part? It’s never enough for Leona to just be good, not when he knows that the world will never see him as anything other than second best.

Another match, another loss to Diasomnia. Another bitter reminder that no matter how hard he fights, talent doesn’t always win. It’s routine now, this pattern of disappointment, of watching the scoreboard flash their defeat while pretending it doesn’t matter.

His teammates look to him with expectation, but Leona only feels the dull weight of inevitability. It’s almost boring how predictable it all feels.

So he does what he always does—retreats to a corner, far from the chaos and the murmurs of his dorm. If the world insists on making him second, he’s learned how to disappear from it.

Leona stretches out, the familiar lethargy settling in like an old friend. His mind tells him to sleep, to let the world fade for a while, but it’s not sleep that drives him here.

It’s the apathy, the exhaustion that sinks deeper than bone. It’s the bitter taste of realizing that no matter how sharp his claws, no matter how strong he is, there’s always someone stronger.

He doesn’t expect anyone to follow him. But the soft rustle of footsteps makes his ear twitch, and he cracks an eye open, irritation already curling in his gut. It’s you. And for a brief moment, he waits for that stupid smile—the one you’ve been plastering across his path ever since you barged into his life. But today, there’s no grin, no lighthearted quip. You look at him with something else. Concern.

Leona stiffens. He knows the look of pity well enough to recognize it, but this isn’t pity. No, this is something far more dangerous—concern. For him. You sit beside him in silence, no words, just the quiet presence of someone who isn’t there to challenge or undermine, but simply to be there. And then you hand him a bottle of electrolyte water, no fanfare, no explanation. Just a gesture, simple and clear.

It feels like a sudden shift in the air. Like a trap laid bare, exposing parts of him he thought he’d buried beneath layers of resentment and indifference. Leona feels naked under your gaze, like you can see past the layers of arrogance and self-assurance, straight into the parts of him he doesn’t let anyone see.

He can’t decide if he wants to snap at you, tell you to leave him the hell alone, or if he wants to let himself drown in the unfamiliar warmth of your presence.

He knows you’re friends with them—Diasomnia, Malleus, all of them. You’re in their orbit, always close enough to the winning side. You could be anywhere right now, basking in the afterglow of another victory, but you’re not.

You’re here. Sitting beside him, looking at him as though he isn’t second. As though he’s worth more than what everyone else sees.

So he asks you, with a low growl edging his words, why the hell you’re here. And your answer is so simple it almost infuriates him. You wanted to be here with him. No pretense, no hidden motives. Just that.

Leona should push you away, should throw up every wall and bury whatever strange warmth is trying to flicker to life in his chest. But instead, he does what he’s good at—he pretends none of it matters.

He settles down again, using you as a pillow, as if this were nothing more than another nap, another way to escape.

But when your fingers brush through his hair, slow and gentle, something inside him stirs. The flames he’s kept buried for so long, the ones he’s always tried to suffocate, flicker just a little brighter. For the first time in a long time, Leona lets them. Just this once. Just for a moment.

Leona doesn’t waste his time on other people’s messes. Why should he? If someone gets tangled up in their own poor decisions, they ought to figure it out themselves. No one ever held his hand, no one pulled him from the darkness when it crept too close.

So he’s learned to stay indifferent, aloof—disconnected from the endless chaos that surrounds him.

So when he sees you in the middle of a heated argument, your back up against the metaphorical wall, three people towering over you, he tries—he really tries—to let it slide. It’s none of his business.

You can figure it out. Why wouldn’t you? You’re always smiling like the world bends for you anyway, always so… relentless. But there’s something about the way those three loom over you, the sharp glint in their eyes, that makes it hard for him to settle back into the lazy apathy that clings to him. He closes his eyes, feigning disinterest, willing himself to ignore the situation.

But then, he hears something that makes his ears twitch, something that slices through his indifference like a blade. You're defending him.

Defending him as though it’s second nature to you, like it’s not even a question. He strains to hear the words, letting them wash over him like a foreign melody—merits he didn’t even know he possessed, traits you speak of like they’re so obvious, like you’ve been holding them in your heart all this time.

It’s the strangest thing. The tension in the air thickens, the argument escalating, voices growing sharper. And before he can even think about why he’s doing it, Leona Kingscholar stands.

He pushes off from his nap spot, his movements slow but deliberate, each step carrying the weight of something he doesn’t quite want to acknowledge yet.

When he gets close, the three people glance at him, and his glare alone is enough to send them scattering, as if the storm that rumbles within him could tear them apart with just a look.

And then there’s you. Standing there, looking at him with that same damn smile, as if the danger you were just in doesn’t bother you at all.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" His voice is low, rough, the edges of frustration still clinging to it. He grabs your wrist, dragging you to a secluded corner, out of the public eye, his grip firm but not harsh.

You blink up at him, unbothered by the ferocity in his eyes, and answer with a simple shrug. "I was just telling the truth."

"It doesn't matter if it's the truth," he snaps, the words leaving him more sharply than he intended. "You could’ve gotten hurt, idiot. You don’t need to get involved in something like that. Especially for someone like me."

For a moment, he expects you to falter, to back down like everyone else always does when they realize the danger. But you don’t.

You stand your ground, and that damn stubbornness that seems to be the core of your being lights up in your eyes. "Leona, I’m not gonna stand there and listen to them trash you. You’re more than they’ll ever understand, and I won’t pretend otherwise. I’m not afraid of them, or anyone."

He stares at you, something twisting deep inside his chest. In the middle of this argument, he realizes something he’s never let himself believe before: you chose him. Not out of fear, not out of obligation, but because you genuinely see something in him worth defending. You chose him, even when it meant putting yourself at risk.

Before he can stop himself, before his mind can catch up to what his heart is screaming, he pulls you close, crashing his lips against yours. The world seems to tilt, everything else fading as your hands reach up, steady and sure, pulling him closer. You kiss him back without hesitation, and when you finally break apart, you press your face into his neck, shy but somehow still so sure.

When you whisper softly, your breath warm against his skin, “I chose you, Leona,” the words settle into him like a promise. His chest tightens, the flame that’s been smoldering for so long finally breaking free, burning brighter and wilder than he ever thought possible.

He lets it. He lets the fire consume him, for once not pushing it down, not pretending it doesn’t exist. Because for the first time in his life, Leona Kingscholar is someone’s first choice.

And he lets the flames burn wild.

I'm not even kidding I made myself tear up while writing this because he's so special to me.

Masterlist

[starkwlkr]

day in the life of a monaco mama | baby leclerc

inspired by the day in the life of a nyc mom tiktoks :) ruby and théo are aged up a bit here.

Y/n had the bright idea of posting more content to her tiktok account. She had a couple of videos, but that was pretty much it. She would get many comments telling her to post more so she thought of an idea. She had seen those day in my life videos everywhere so she filmed one with Ruby and Mathéo.

“Hi everyone, welcome to a day in my life in Monaco!” The video starts off with Y/n making herself some coffee for her and Charles then cuts to her waking the kids up so they can get ready. Today, Charles is leaving for the Dutch Grand Prix so I got his coffee ready while he helped the kids get ready for the day.”

Y/n filmed Charles giving the kids several kisses and hugs then gave her a kiss and hug before Joris arrived and together they were on their way to the plane. “We try to take the kids to a couple of races, but they recently said they prefer to stay home, hang out with their friends or stay with their grandmère, which doesn’t upset Charles at all.” The voiceover said.

“So after we get ready and eat some breakfast, the kids and I go for a walk to the gardens then we come back to their grandmère’s house and we hang out for a bit.” Y/n filmed the kids waving hello to a couple of people on their walk. Then the video showed Pascale greeting the kids and hugging Y/n.

“When it was time to leave, Mathéo wanted to stay because his grandmère was going to visit some family and he wanted to tag along so him and Pascale left and it turned into a mommy daughter day.” Y/n showed several clips of Ruby running around them posing for the camera.

Then the video cuts to them walking around Monaco. “We stopped for lunch at Ruby’s favorite place called Bella Vita and it’s close to a little playground so if you’re ever in Monaco and with your kids, i would recommend coming here. Ruby loves it.” Y/n filmed Ruby eating a piece of of pizza. The little girl saw the camera then smiled and put up a thumbs up.

“After lunch, we walked around, then Ruby wanted to go to see her papa’s car that’s with the rest of Prince Albert’s collection. Whenever we have time, she always requests to go see it.”

They walked to the museum that held Prince Albert’s collection. Y/n filmed the cars. At one point the video showed Y/n posing in front of Charles’ Ferrari car that won in Spa and Monza. The clip was courtesy of Ruby since she wanted to film her maman at least once.

The video then cut to a couple looking at Charles’ Ferrari that were standing next to Ruby, who was taking a picture with her camera that Charles bought her. The man noticed Ruby and wondered if she knew the history of the car.

“That car won—”

“Monza and Spa. I know, that’s my papa’s car.” She replied to her walked back to her maman.

The woman tried to hold in her laugh, but she couldn’t. The couple watch Ruby wave goodbye to them as her and Y/n walked away to their next destination.

“On our way to the oceanographic museum, we ran into some Ferrari fans that wanted to give Ruby and i some friendship bracelets and coincidentally, Ruby had some on her as well so we traded. Thanks for the bracelets, Amanda and Jade!” The clip showed two girls trading bracelets with Ruby.

“Ruby is going through her ocean phase at the moment. She loves telling Charles and i facts about the ocean at all times and I mean at all times. This girl will sit you down and tell you facts as if her life depended on it.” Y/n filmed Ruby admiring the pretty fish then pointing to her favorite one.

Then the video cut to Ruby trying to pronounce anemone because she was trying to tell her mom a fact about the clown fish. “The anemoney . . anu. . anomoon. . .” She stumbled over her words.

“Anemone.” Y/n clarified, but Ruby still messed up. “That’s okay, you’ll pronounce it right next time.”

“I hope so. I don’t want the clown fish to feel sad because I can’t say it right.” Ruby said sadly.

The video then shows Ruby talking with kids her own age. She, of course, made new friends and even invited them to sleepover at her house. Y/n and the other moms laughed, but did promise a sleepover some other time.

“Finally, we went back home to Pascale’s and had dinner where the kids FaceTimes Charles. Our days aren’t always like this, but I always want to fill our days with something to do.”

The TikTok ended up gaining millions of views, likes, shares and comments. Most of them coming from F1 fans, but she didn’t mind.

COMMENTS

pierresgaszlys I NEED MOREEE

f1elle ruby making friends 🥹

sebsbees imagine trading friendship bracelets with ruby leclerc

cruelsummerstan mathéo choosing to stay with his grandma awww 😭

charlesleclerc miss you!!

danielricciardosupremacy oh to live in monaco and trade bracelets with ruby leclerc 😭🥲

[heavenangelly]

I feel like people are constantly trying to find ways to make the law seem fake. Telling people you’re being delusional, that it’s just a placebo effect, that it’s not real, that it can’t happen, etc. Is it so hard to believe that there is a power within you that can make your life marvellous? That can make you free? That anything you ever desire, can become true instantly? That you’d never have to struggle again? Doesn’t it sound amazing? Because it’s way better than believing any of those limiting beliefs. You have a way OUT with the law. Why do you want to believe otherwise?

All that you’ll ever have to do to “get” your desire is to be the person that already has it / is it. Since you are now that person, it is an assumption. And since the law is literally called, the LAW of ASSUMPTION, that’s all you’ll ever have to do. It’s so fucking simple. And the LAW will never change. It’s been around since humans (possible animals) existed. The only difference is that humans have now become aware. That people (Neville, Abdullah, Edward, bloggers, etc) have started preaching and showing people the truth of life and the power you hold within you.

STOP trying to find ways to prove to yourself that the law is fake. What you seek, you shall find. And in your seeking, you manifest what you’re seeking, so you’ve already lost.

You are always manifesting. Throughout your whole life you have manifested things, consciously or unconsciously (excluding trauma and things you didn’t know about). You have always been a master manifester. You have always chosen to believe/assume things. And it has ALWAYS been reflected. The law never fails.

Actually PRACTICE (consciously) the law and you will see what I mean. Go on your journey and explore your unlimited power. Understand who you are, how to manifest, and why the 3d doesn’t matter. Then, you will be destined to succeed.

And please, stop letting other peoples beliefs become your own. They’re irrelevant and do not matter in your world. You create; so only YOU matter. Become confident in who you are and what you believe in and these measly, insecure, desperate people will fade away. Become confident in the law by applying it. You are God. Wake up.

Another note is, is that none of these bloggers gaf about TikTok’s or some random npc’s beliefs because they have practiced the law and have SEEN their world MELT before their eyes to accommodate them. They know it, they’ve seen it, they believe it. They have no reason to doubt. None of us would lie for shits and giggles.

Do not let the world sway you from your power.

Xoxo,

Heavenangelly.

[st4rtar0t]

Random facts about your future spouse

DM for personal readings.

PLEASE COMMENT IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO SEE MORE OF THESE POSTS.

PICTURE 1

They may be a bit reckless with their money. If they like something they will definitely get it no matter what.

They have a magnetic aura, they may be interested in spirituality or philosophy.

You guys may have one or two photos together unknowingly, or you have seen them in a photograph.

They can be a great manipulator if they want to, i see that they are really great with their words.

You guys will meet in a destined way. At the right place at the right time.

They may have a resting bitch face or they may appear mean when they are not smiling. i see that a lot of people misunderstand them.

They have a great sense of boundary, they will never let others disrespect them and the people they love.

They love talking on the call. i see that you guys will talk on calls a lot.

I see that when they get comfortable with someone they talk a lot and no stop.

They are also very clear with their moves, they do exactly what they say.

Picture 2

They absolutely love receiving and giving kisses. It includes both soft pecks on lips and long passionate kisses.

They may have a "TRY ME" kind of attitude, they can be really sassy at times.

Green and red could be their favourite colours or these may be really significant.

I see that you guys mirror each other a lot that even you may get surprised.

However I also see that they have a lot of ego and self respect, but it wont come between your relationship.

They sleep a lot, or they may be sleep deprived because of working overtime. they may have racoon eyes because of lack of sleep.

They are so sweet and kind, they are really emotionally mature. They try to understand every emotion they feel.

They may love skating or you guys may go on a skating date in the initial stages of the relationship.

They may have a sun tattoo or they may wear a sun locket, nonetheless the sun seems to be really significant.

one of you may wear blue on the first date.

Picture 3

I see that you guys will be the ideal couple, people may try to copy the things you two do. some people may get jealous so your future spouse may try to keep the relationship private at first.

They always carry a pair of glasses with them everywhere they go, these may be perception.

You guys may have a professional relation at first, like you may meet them in a work setting.

They love joking around with you, i see that you guys will have a lot of inside jokes. goofy talks and cheesy smiles.

They will be giving you a lot of handmade gifts, it is one of their love languages.

They are really smart. They are always gathering information over their latest interest.

I see that they may have had a playboy kind of period? like i see that they used to be in a lot of relationships.

On a side note, they have done a lot of healing and are always evolving.

They tend to go silent when they are upset over something? but they are always ready to talk things out but they wont be the first one to do it.

They may be an air sign or they air dominant'

[hoshifighting]

      minghao + telepathic sex

— you give a try to the soulmate meditation, finding minghao inside the meditation, the barista that you meet everyday before work.

WARNINGS: +18, smut, spiritual setting, another dimension experience, mentions of aura (minghao's aura), destinity, soulmates plot, fingering, doubled sensations, mentions of fluids (oil, cum/precum).

[my spiritualist ass needed to write something like this]

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

you’re sitting on your bed, lights off, laptop open, the screen way too bright in the dark room. your friend’s words still echoing in your head, “just try it, y/n. i swear, it’ll change your life.” and you rolled your eyes so hard when she said it, the thought of meditating to a youtube video making you scoff. but now, after a brutal day at work, your head spinning with numbers, deadlines, and your boss breathing down your neck, you figured what the hell. couldn’t be worse than staring at the ceiling and drowning in your thoughts all night, right?

so, here you are, headphones on, listening to this soft, whispery voice telling you to breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth. you do it, even though it feels a bit stupid. the voice is saying something about connecting with your inner self or some other woo-woo shit, and you kind of tune it out, focusing more on the slow inhale, exhale.

but then, something shifts. like, for real. your body feels lighter, like you're floating, and your limbs start tingling. your brain’s screaming okay, this is weird, stop, but your body’s already in, pulled deeper into whatever this trance is. it’s like you blink, and suddenly, you're not in your room anymore. everything is... different.

it’s not dark, not light, just this weird in-between, and there’s this warm glow in front of you. the air smells different too, fresh and kind of sweet, like those damn essential oils your friend swears by. it feels real, but not? you glance down at yourself, and yep, still you. but your feet are moving like you’re not the one telling them to, dragging you closer to this light.

and then you see him.

at first, it’s just a silhouette. a tall, lean figure surrounded by this soft, white aura. your heart does that thing where it skips a beat—because, like, wtf is happening—but you keep moving. something about him pulls you in, despite the knot twisting in your gut.

as you get closer, you can see him more clearly. his hair’s a soft, burnt orange, strands almost glowing like they’re lit from within. the kind of hair you’d probably spend hours trying to replicate at the salon, but never really get right. and his face... god, his face. sharp, but soft in all the right places. it’s minghao. minghao? of all people? the dude you’ve seen in the cafeteria, that does your ''the usual'' everyday before work?

you freeze. not because you’re scared—well, maybe a little—but more because what the actual hell. is this meditation or did you fall asleep and end up in some kind of fever dream?

“you good?” his voice cuts through the fog, smooth, with that laid-back vibe he always carries. he’s looking right at you now, dark eyes catching yours, like he’s not even fazed by the fact that you just appeared out of nowhere.

you blink. “uh... what is this?”

he laughs, low and lazy, like you’re the one who’s being weird. “soulmate meditation, right?”

you feel your face heat up. oh, fuck no. “don’t tell me you watch those too.”

you stand there, still not quite sure if you’re dreaming or if this is actually happening, when minghao steps even closer. his energy is calm but intense at the same time, and it’s making your body buzz, like the air between you is charged with something you don’t understand. you can feel your feet getting heavier, like the ground itself is trying to pull you down, almost glitching beneath you.

minghao shrugs, the motion casual, like none of this is a big deal. “i don’t need to,” he says softly, not looking at you but feeling everything. his fingers brush against yours, and it’s such a light touch, but it sends sparks up your arm. “you can feel it, can’t you?”

you don’t answer, too caught up in the dimension. it’s like your body knows more than your brain does, and suddenly, you’re aware of every sensation, every beat of your heart, every breath.

“don’t freak out,” he murmurs, his hand sliding into yours fully now. “it’s just the energy here. you’re fine.”

yeah, right, you think. totally fine. but the way his hand fits around yours, it’s like he’s grounding you, keeping you from slipping through the cracks in reality.

“relax,” he whispers, his thumb stroking your palm lightly. “relax your shoulders, your jaw... even your eyebrows. you’re holding everything so tight.”

his touch is steady, calming, and without even realizing it, your shoulders start to drop, your jaw unclenches, and the tension in your forehead eases.

you huff, rolling your eyes, but you do it anyway, letting out a long breath. “i didn’t even know i was that tense.”

minghao chuckles, the sound easy, and you can feel it in your chest. “i could tell. your body’s giving you away.”

you shoot him a glare, but there’s no bite to it, not really.

but he’s right. you’re so damn tense, always are. work, life, all of it piles up until your body’s like a coiled spring, and he noticed on the cafeteria, he did, and here, same thing, and you don’t even notice it anymore. but here, with him, it’s like all of that just melts away. you don’t even know how it’s possible, but you feel... lighter. freer.

he tilts his head, eyes locking with yours, and there’s something in the way he’s looking at you that makes your stomach flip. “you know,” he starts, his voice dropping to a soft murmur, “there’s a better way to relax... here too”

your breath catches in your throat, he’s not just talking about meditation anymore—no, there’s a shift in the air, something heavier tugging at your sacral chackra.

“oh yeah?” you ask, your voice coming out a little breathless, even though you try to play it cool. “and what’s that?”

minghao’s smile is slow, he leans in, close enough that his breath brushes your skin, his body lightweight, moving like an angel. “you’ll feel it. just... let go.”

you don’t even have time to respond before his lips are on yours, soft and dense, and everything around you dissolves. the world, this dimension, the ground beneath your feet—it all fades until there’s nothing but him, his mouth, his hands, the heat radiating from his body.

and it’s not just a kiss. no, it’s like every sensation is magnified, doubled, like your nerves are on fire. his hand slides up your arm, leaving a trail of warmth, and when his fingers dig into your waist, you gasp into his mouth, clutching at his shoulders because suddenly, you’re not sure if your legs are going to hold you up.

he pulls back just enough to murmur against your lips, “see? just like that. relax.”

your brain’s spinning, but your body’s already giving in, sinking into the feeling of his touch, the heat building between you. you’ve never felt anything like this—like your body is hypersensitive.

minghao’s hands are everywhere now, sliding down your sides, gripping your hips, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. you’re pressed against him, and the way his body feels, hard and warm against yours, only makes the tension inside you snap, releasing in waves of need.

his mouth moves to your neck, lips trailing down, sucking lightly, and your head falls back, a soft moan slipping out before you can stop it. it’s like every touch is amplified, like your body is more in tune with his than it’s ever been with anyone else.

“you’re doing good,” he murmurs against your skin, voice low and breathy. “just let go.”

and you do. fuck, you do. your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as his mouth works its way down your throat. the heat between your legs is building, and it’s so intense, like nothing you’ve felt before. everything’s heightened—the way his fingers dig into your skin, the way his breath feels against your neck, the way his body presses against yours.

his hands slide lower, gripping your ass and pulling you flush against him. you can feel him hard against your thigh, and a low groan escapes him as he grinds against you. making you call for him.

he cuts you off with another kiss, this one rougher, more desperate, and you can feel the need radiating off of him in spirals. it’s like the air between you is droning, the energy from before now crackling with something more carnal, mundane, something that’s pulling you both under.

“you want this?” he asks, his eyes dark and filled with warmth as he pulls back just enough to look at you.

you don’t even hesitate. “yes.”

everything’s blurred, time slipping away as the two of you become a mess of tangled limbs, moans, and desperate touches. and fuck, it feels good.

you don’t even remember how it happened—one second, you were both tangled in each other, grinding and gasping like it was the only thing keeping you alive, and then, somehow, without even realizing, you were both naked—were you naked form the very beginning?

skin against skin, slick and slippery with something that felt almost like oil, but thicker, warmer, making your bodies glide against each other with every touch. you couldn’t even focus, too caught up in the way minghao’s mouth latched onto your nipple, sucking slow, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud.

his teeth grazed lightly over your nipple, and you gasped, back arching up, pressing yourself harder against his mouth. your hand was wrapped around his cock, your fingers curling around the thick, bulbous head, and the way he twitched in your grip made your own heat pool between your legs, soaking your thighs in a way that felt obscene.

he moved lower, trailing kisses down your stomach. you could feel every inch of him, the warmth of his breath, the slickness of your own sweat mixing with whatever was coating your bodies, making each touch feel like it was magnified, like it was burning into your skin.

“this... feels insane,” you whispered, your voice trembling, not just from the pleasure but from vibrations. every sound, every moan, every gasp echoed in the strange, otherworldly space you were in, bouncing off the walls—or maybe it was just the ground? you weren’t sure anymore. the whole place felt like it was vibrating, like your moans were traveling through the very air, rippling through the dimensions and coming back to you in curls. it was dizzying, overwhelming, and it made the heat between your legs pulse harder.

his fingers slid down between your thighs, finding your clit with a kind of confidence that made your head spin, like he belonged his, like he knew everything. his touch was light at first, just barely grazing the swollen bud, but still made you shake like he’d shocked you. your hips bucked instinctively, chasing the friction, and minghao’s breath hitched, a soft chuckle escaping him as his fingers pressed down a little harder.

“relax,” he whispered, guiding your hips down, his other hand gripping your waist, “you’re so tense. just let me do it.”

his fingers circled your clit in slow, teasing motions, not enough to send you over the edge but enough to make you ache, the need building inside of you until it felt like you were going to burst. every flick of his fingers made your whole body shudder, the sound of your slick echoing in the space around you, loud and obscene, like the wet slap of your skin against his was the only thing that mattered.

“fuck, minghao,” you moaned, your voice coming out in a broken gasp, the sound vibrating through the air, making everything feel more intense. the ground beneath you seemed to pulse with the rhythm of your bodies, every sound amplified, the wetness of your slick mixing with his groans, creating this heated, filthy symphony of pleasure.

“good girl,” he muttered, voice low and rough, fingers sliding lower to tease at your entrance before plunging inside. you cried out, the feeling so intense it almost knocked the breath from your lungs. his fingers stretched you, curling just right, finding that spot inside of you that made your legs tremble.

the sensation was heightened, doubled somehow, like you could feel every single ridge of his fingers inside of you, the way they twisted and stroked, pulling moans from your lips like he was playing an instrument. “just like that,” he breathed, his voice guiding you, his other hand sliding up to cup your breast, thumb brushing over your other nipple. “relax into it. let go.”

you did. you let go of everything—the stress, the tension, the worries. it all melted away under the touch of his hands, the press of his body against yours, the sound of your wet skin slapping together. he was moving faster now, his fingers thrusting inside of you with a steady rhythm, and you could feel your orgasm building, that tight coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter.

“minghao—i’m close, i-i can feel it, oh my god!” you gasped, your hips moving on their own, grinding against his hand, desperate for release.

he smirked, leaning down to press his lips to your ear. “come for me. let it all go.”

coil snapped, and your orgasm ripped through you, so intense that you screamed, the sound echoing in the space around you, bouncing back at you like a thousand voices crying out in unison.

your whole body shook, and you could feel minghao’s fingers still working inside of you, drawing out every last bit of your orgasm, coaxing it from you until you were a quivering body.

the sounds of your slick, of his hand sliding against your skin, filled the space, amplified by whatever dimension you were in. it was all so wet, so filthy, and yet it felt like everything you needed, everything you’d been holding in for so long.

when it was over, you collapsed back against the ground—if it was ground at all—your body boneless, your mind hazy with the aura of your orgasm. minghao pulled his fingers out of you slowly, carefully, and you could feel the wetness dripping down your thighs, soaking into whatever surface you were on.

he laid down beside you, pulling you close, and you could feel his warmth, his steady breathing, his presence grounding you again. your body felt heavy, but not in a bad way—it was the kind of heaviness that comes with complete release, with finally letting go of everything.

“how do you feel?” minghao asked softly, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your skin.

you smiled, eyes already drooping closed, exhaustion pulling you under. “better. so much better.”

he chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, making your view blur a little. “good. now sleep.”

and you did, falling into a deep, dreamless slumber, your body completely relaxed, every bit of tension gone. all that was left was minghao’s warmth, his soft breathing, and the sound of your own heartbeat slowing as you drifted off into the most peaceful sleep you’d ever had.

— // next morning // —

you stumble into the cafeteria, still buzzing from whatever the hell last night was. it’s like you can’t shake the feeling, like it’s clinging to your skin, still there in the way your body feels light but also charged with something—missing something? your head’s all over the place, replaying those moments from the trance, that other dimension—or whatever the hell you wanna call it. but you need coffee, you’re exhausted, barely slept after the... experience, and you’re kinda hoping a caffeine hit will bring you back to reality.

and that’s when you see him. minghao. standing right at the counter like he always does, casual as anything. except something inside you twists the second your eyes land on him. it’s like your body knows before your brain does, the way your stomach flips, the way your breath catches. no. no way. he can’t know, right? you try to shake the thought, telling yourself it was just a dream or something. maybe your imagination is screwing with you, making you see connections that aren’t there.

but then he glances up, meeting your eyes for a split second before he looks back down at the coffee machine. “the usual?” he asks before you even have a chance to say anything, like he already knew.

your heart skips a beat, but you try to play it cool. “yeah... thanks,” you mutter, hoping your voice doesn’t sound as shaky as it feels.

while you’re waiting, you can’t help but sneak glances at him. he’s just standing there, doing his thing, but every now and then, his eyes flicker up to you, just for a second, like he’s watching you too. and it’s making you paranoid, like he knows. like he was there. but that’s impossible, right?

the coffee’s ready in no time, and you step up to grab it. your hand curls around the cup, but just as you’re about to lift it, minghao’s hand comes down too, his fingers brushing over yours. the touch makes you freeze, way too similar to the way his fingers had felt last night, the way he had— okay okay, calm down.

“you look well-rested,” he says, voice low, hardly audible over the hum of the cafeteria. his thumb strokes the back of your hand, subtly. “i hope it helped... relaxing like that.”

your heart slams in your chest, and for a second, you freeze. you can’t even speak, your mind going blank as his words hit you. he knows. there’s no way he doesn’t know. the way he said it, the look in his eyes—it’s like he’s toying with you, like he’s waiting for you to admit it.

your mouth opens, but nothing comes out. your eyes are wide, staring at him in shock, and minghao’s smirk widens just a little, like he’s enjoying the way you’re reacting.

then, without breaking eye contact, he adds, “are you gonna meet me again?” minghao asks, his voice dropping even lower, his lips quirking into a knowing smirk. “there… or maybe here?” he points to the counter, as if meanings, real life.

you can feel the heat creeping up your neck, your mind still spinning from everything. he knows. he fucking knows. and the way he’s looking at you right now, there’s no mistaking it.

you swallow hard, trying to compose yourself, but all you can manage is a small nod. minghao just chuckles softly, his fingers giving yours a little squeeze before he finally lets go of the cup. “good. i’ll see you soon then.”

[wolvietxt]

💭 thinking about…

𝗅𝗈𝗀𝖺𝗇 𝗁𝗈𝗐𝗅𝖾𝗍𝗍 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗉 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝖿𝖿𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇!

pairing : logan howlett x fem!reader warnings : hurt / comfort, crying reader, awkward logan, age gap, mentions of jean + scott, perspective shifts, sunshine x grumpy, implied mutant!reader wc : 1.4k

it’s late afternoon, and the sky is streaked with shades of orange and pink. you’re sitting on a bench in the park, your usual radiant energy noticeably dimmed. your cheeks and nose are flushed, and your soft sniffles seem to almost echo around. the gentle rustling of leaves and distant chatter of passersby fills the air, but you seem to be lost in your own thoughts.

you’ve had a silly little crush on logan for a long time. it’s so stupid really. it started when you moved into xavier’s school for gifted youngsters as a teacher. you were only a few years older than some of the students, so to be in such a position felt like an honour. logan showed you around right at the start. he wasn’t the kindest, nor the most talkative, but he was by far your favourite. the vanilla - pine - woody musk that emanated off of him had you starry eyed from the beginning. you could tell very quickly that logan wasn’t an extroverted person, but he still cared for the people around him. you saw it in the small gestures like how he restocked cans of storm’s favourite soda and how he made sure that charles always woke up to a mug of tea. how you craved the same kind of attention from him.

but he’s so much older than you, and you suspect he still only has eyes for jean grey, even though she’s been gone a long time. in desperation, you’ve even attempted to emulate her, getting quieter around logan and trying to seem calmer in general. it didn’t work. in fact it did the opposite, he seems even more distanced from you. you’ve invited him round for beers or to watch a new movie you heard him talking to scott about, but he declined all of your offers time and time again. the next day, you overheard him ask scott if he wanted to come round and watch the same movie at his place. god, you’ve never felt so humiliated in your life. he must have a problem with you, but you could never put your finger on why.

you seem to have tried everything - bright smiles, thoughtful gestures, and endless attempts to joke around with him. you’d always believed that if you just kept at it, eventually, logan would see how much you cared for him. but lately, it feels as if you’d been trying too hard, pushing too much, and getting nowhere. your heart feels heavy, burdened with the unspoken fear that maybe you’re just annoying him. 

tears begin to well up in your eyes as you recall all the times he’s brushed you off or grumbled at your attempts to get close. you knows he’s not one for affection, but you can’t help wondering if he might never return your feelings. you’re probably just being stupid, thinking that you could melt his cold exterior. a single tear escapes, tracing a path down your cheek. you quickly wipe it away, hoping no one would notice.

but he doesn’t hate you. he couldn’t hate such a sweet thing like you. he’s noticed how you seem overly affectionate in general, but more reserved with him. so has scott. scott seemed to think it was because you had a crush on him and were trying to impress him. 

“c’mon logan! you must’ve seen the way she looks at you!” “i have no idea what you’re talking about summers.”

he’d mentioned it over beers back when the thought hadn’t even occurred to logan. a woman like you could never like a man like him. he was always under the impression that it was a one-sided crush, that he was forever destined to be alone. you were fully aware of the things he’d done in his couple hundred years of life. you were much too good for him :( too cheerful and smiley for a grumpy old man. 

logan spots you from a distance, your usually happy presence now strangely subdued. he’s used to you being the one to approach him, always with a smile and some kind of cheerful comment. but today, you seem… small. vulnerable, even :(

he’s about to walk away, dismissing it as another one of those feelings he doesn’t want to deal with, but something stops him. maybe it’s the way your shoulders are hunched, or the way you keep wiping at your face. are you crying? the thought unsettles him more than he’d like to admit. he doesn’t do well with emotions - especially not other people’s. but for some strange reason, the idea of you being upset tugs at something deep within him.

steeling himself, he walks over and sits beside you, keeping a respectful distance. you don't notice him at first, too lost in your own thoughts.

“what’s wrong?” he asks, his voice gruff but not unkind. it’s a simple question, but it takes all his willpower to ask it.

you startle at his voice, quickly wiping your eyes. “nothing. i’m fine,” you say, forcing a watery smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. how embarrassing. he already hates you and now he has to see you cry too? you feel terrible for him, and for yourself. 

logan frowns. he’s not very good at this, but even he can tell that something’s off. “doesn’t look like nothing,” he mutters, trying to soften his usual harsh tone.

you glance up at him, surprised by the concern in his voice. it’s rare for him to ask you anything, let alone how you’re feeling. for a moment, you consider telling him everything. but then you hesitate. what if he’s just being silly? what if he doesn’t really care? as if he can see into your mind, he softly places a hand on your shoulder and whispers, “there is nothing you could say that would make me stop caring.”

you felt the burning of your waterline filling up again as soon as the words left the tip of his tongue. 

“it’s so stupid,” you finally admit, your voice trembling slightly. “i just… i feel like I’m always the one trying, you know? like i’m annoying everyone all the time. and maybe i am. i don’t wanna be a bother, but sometimes… sometimes it feels like nobody cares at all.”

you look away, embarrassed by your own vulnerability. the silence between you two  is heavy, and you wonder if you’ve made everything even worse by opening up to him.

logan feels like he’s been punched in the gut. even with his limited emotional range, he can assume you’re mostly talking about him. everybody else is quick to reciprocate your attention. everyday he feels like you’re curled up with someone new. he wishes it could be him. he’s never been good with words, especially not the ones that matter, but he never in a million years meant to contribute to you feeling like this. he’s spent so long building walls around himself that he didn’t realise how much they’ve been hurting you.

“y/n…” he starts, his voice rough with emotion. “i’m not… very good at this. at any of this. i’ve been alone for a very long time, and i guess… i don’t know how to show you that i care. but i do. much more than you know.”

he hesitates, searching for the right words. “you’re not a bother. you never have been, not to me, not to anyone. i just… it’s hard for me to open up. but that doesn’t mean i don’t… that i don’t appreciate you. i do. a lot.”

it’s not the most perfect confession, but it’s honest. he hopes it’s enough.

you turn to him, your eyes wide with surprise. you can see the sincerity in his expression, the awkwardness of a man trying to navigate unfamiliar territory. it’s more than you would ever expect to hear from him, and your heart swells with an unknown feeling.

you reach out, gently placing your hand on top of his. “thank you,” you whisper, your voice full of warmth. “that means more to me than you know.”

logan stiffens at the contact but doesn’t pull away. instead, he squeezes your hand awkwardly, a silent promise that he’s going to try. it’s a small gesture, but to you, it’s everything.

[uyuforu]

Composite Observations II

It's been a while since I made some Composite posts! So I have decided to make some more. This one will be based on mine with my FS, I really like it not gonna lie haha. This post can also be taken as Davison or Progressed Composite observations! Also had some Sugar Sugar Rune pictures for this post and used to love this manga when I was young! Also funny thing but I realized Chocolat and Pierre (both main characters of the story) are the same sun signs as me and my FS ;-; One of the first manga I read and watched. I listened to the opening OST while writing this post lmao, i'm so nostalgic. This observation is only for romantic composite!!

All pictures are from Pinterest.

Other posts you could like:

જ⁀➴ Composite Observation I

જ⁀➴ Synastry & Composite with In-Laws I

જ⁀➴ Lunar Return Observations II

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✮⋆˙ Libra/ 7°/ 19° Rising means the couple will look good together. They look very much in love, and like the it-couple. They are very romantic towards each other too. Couple also look into each other since the start, it was romance since the every first moment. Couple could be very much into PDA.

✮⋆˙ Taurus/ 2°/ 14°/ 26° Rising will also have that it-couple vibe since it's also a sign ruled by Venus. Couple look like they care about they appearance when they are together, but mostly like they care about each other. Couple could also be into PDA. Could also love to shop together and to eat outside.

✮⋆˙ Taurus Sun makes the couple trust each other a lot, and wanting something long term. Couple is very romantic and sensual with each other, like to flirt a lot. They can love to buy each other gifts, and could also love to spend time with each other.

✮⋆˙ 7H Sun makes the couple care the most about each other, they can become the most important person in each other's life very fast. They can also feel like they found the one for them. They could have always seen each other in a serious relationship.

✮⋆˙ North Node conjunct Rising could mean their meeting was destined and they are meant to be in each other's life.

✮⋆˙ 1H Ruler in 2H can mean people view you as a couple who has money, you could look good and always presentable. You could see yourself that way too, and you could also think you look like an it-couple.

✮⋆˙ Aries DSC can be a sign of marrying fast, or things going fast between you two when you get together.

✮⋆˙ Juno 1H could be a sign of love at first sight, or finding each other very attractive physically. It can also be falling in love very fast with each other.

✮⋆˙ Venus conjunct Pluto is a sign of a very passionate relationship. The couple could want to have some steamy times all the times and being physically close to each other could be a need at some point. Love is intense but slightly toxic at some point.

✮⋆˙ Venus 2H is a sign of long term love, this couple can grow long term and stronger with time in this house. This placement can suggest the couple can make money together and work together. They can love to know what the other one loves and their tastes. They wanna know everything of the other one. Love languages can be gifts giving, physical touches and quality time.

✮⋆˙ 2H Ruler in 2H means money will take a big place in this relationship! The couple could gain a lot of money after marriage or while being together. They could also love to buy each other gifts.

✮⋆˙ Pluto 2H means the way the couples look at possessions and money will change once they meet and even get together. It can also means their money status can change when being together. Perhaps they can gain more while being together.

✮⋆˙ Mars 3H makes the couple have real conversations and find each other's mind very stimulating. A lot of flirting too.

✮⋆˙ Venus conjunct Mars could mean the couple love to show their love in their most intimates moment, and it can also mean to be very compatible in the heated moments. Very passionate love.

✮⋆˙ Mars conjunct Pluto could make the relationship vert intense, and more physically. The physical attraction is over the roof.

✮⋆˙ Sagittarius Venus means the couple could love to teach the other one some new things, couple could love to learn new things together. Couple could be from two different cultures and love to learn from each other. Couples could be very spontaneous too.

✮⋆˙ Sagittarius Mars means they can be more curious when being together, and more open minded too. The couple could be more optimistic when being together too. Like to hear the other's point of view too.

✮⋆˙ Scorpio Juno makes their relationship very possessive and obsessive over each other. They can often stalk the other person online and think of them all the time. Very intense and passionate but also very obsessive and slightly toxic.

✮⋆˙ Neptune 3H is a sign of giving each other love letters, wiring beautiful love declarations and perhaps even being each other's muse.

✮⋆˙ 3H Ruler in 4H could mean the way they communicate could be very soft, and very nice, they don't usually scream at each other. They are very nice to each other. They could speak about family and children often. The idea of having a family could be often discussed.

✮⋆˙ Jupiter 4H makes the couple happy to be together, they will feel more happy and lucky once they move in together and create their family. Both feel like they will be able to bloom in this relationship. A huge sign of long term love.

✮⋆˙ 6H Ruler in 3H means one of the challenge of this relationships is to communicate, perhaps communication can be hard sometimes and it can create some problems. Their lesson is to communicate properly to make their relationship work.

✮⋆˙ 8H Ruler in 2H could mean this couple will own a lot of possession and gain a lot of money together. They could also be very private about their possession, not the type to show off.

✮⋆˙ 9H Ruler in 7H could mean this couple will often travel together, during their marriage and traveling, going on adventures are something they will always do and love to do together.

✮⋆˙ 10H Ruler in 7H means this couple's has high chance to get married. Since there is a 7H stellium, this could mean this couple could be meant to indeed get married. This couple could also work together.

✮⋆˙ 11H Ruler in 7H could mean this couple is best friend as the same time to be lovers.

✮⋆˙ North Node Libra makes the couple's purpose to understand how to have a healthy and balanced relationship. The ying and yang energies need to be balanced and perhaps both people need to tune into their own energy. This can also be a sign of being destined to be in a romantic relationship, none of them will be able to just stay friends (Libra is ruled by Venus).

✮⋆˙ North Node 12H isn't a sign of "meant to break up". Please stop associating the 12H as a bad house. It's indeed a house of endings, but not only, and those endings are good. NN Composite in the 12H to me means more of ending illusions about yourself. The relationship will have a true wake up call and perhaps more on the spiritual side, a deep spiritual awakening.

In my case, I indeed have NN Libra 12H, this can be interpreted as the relationship ending bad cycles in our life in order for us to step into our divine masculine and divine feminine energies. It's very spiritual like.

✮⋆˙ North Node conjunct Chiron is a sign of healing because if the relationship. The couple's destiny is to help each of them heal through their relationship.

And yeah it also has Chiron in that 12H too, I'll talk about it more later, but it's clear that the spiritual awakening.

✮⋆˙ Uranus 4H means the couple will probably change the idea they had of "home" when they meet or even get together.

When I met my FS, I felt so at home with him that he is what I consider home now. The idea I also had of home & family changed when I met him.

✮⋆˙ Jupiter conjunct Uranus is a sign of having an exciting life together, the relationship can also be very spiritual and this aspect can be a sign of a spiritual awakening indeed.

✮⋆˙ 4H Ruler in 4H is a sign of having a long term relationship. It can also be a sign of wanting to live together and have a family together.

✮⋆˙ 5H Ruler in 4H is a sign this couple will want children together, the ruler being Jupiter can create more chances to have some. This is also a sign of living together being fun.

✮⋆˙ 5H Ruler in 3H could mean this couple could laugh and joke a lot together. Talking is fun, they could have a lot of inside joke together. They could also like to sing together, and express their passion to each other. Serenading could be a thing. Talking about having children too.

✮⋆˙ Saturn 6H is a sign that the couple's routine can make it hard for them to build a relationship or to find time to spend together. Their work and busy schedule can create a true obstacle, yet this will be a challenge the couple will need to face and be careful with.

The challenge here will be to organize a good schedule that will enable the couple to still find time for them in this very busy life!

✮⋆˙ Sun conjunct Mercury means the couple is very intellectual and love to exchange ideas, having conversations is not something the couple lack, and if both partner have strong Mercury or Air signs in their own chart, this will be very pleasing for them.

✮⋆˙ Sun conjunct Moon means a divine union, more if it's in the 7H! It can also be a sign of soulmates or high level soulmates in some cases.

✮⋆˙ Leo MC could make this couple famous, or just well known. This couple is a show off couple, and they could be very expressive towards each other. The kind of couple to be huge on PDA.

✮⋆˙ Part of Fortune 10H is a sign of the couple having more chance to work and build something together. Fame as a couple is possible.

✮⋆˙ POF Leo is another fame sign for the couple! Shining and being seen for sure.

✮⋆˙ Taurus Mercury means the couple is very nice, romantic and soft when they interact with each other, and they may not be aggressive even if they argue. Can often use a sensual and charming voice when they talk to each other.

✮⋆˙ Mercury 7H means the couple can flirt a lot and be very romantic. They can think of dating each other right when they first talk, thinking they could totally be in a relationship together.

✮⋆˙ Taurus Moon means the couple thinks this relationship can be long term and they can often feel romantic feelings for each other. They will wanna make anything out of a date together.

✮⋆˙ Moon 7H will make the couple feel like the company of the other person is what they crave the most, they will want to spend only time together, and it's a sign of deep love and commitment.

✮⋆˙ 7H Ruler in 3H could mean this couple is very romantic to each other and may express it a lot to each other. They can make a lot of love declaration to each other.

✮⋆˙ Boda 7H is another big sign of marrying each other. The wedding will be veryyyyy romantic.

✮⋆˙ Taurus Boda makes the wedding of the couple very beautiful and romantic too, the aesthetic will be beautiful.

✮⋆˙ Boda conjunct Mercury is a sign a proposal will most likely happen in their relationship. The couple can also talk a lot about marriage together, and also the wedding they want.

✮⋆˙ 7H Stellium means the couple can't feel like they don't want to do anything without the other one. They feel like their life without each other is meaningless. It creates a very strong bond and they may want to be with each other until the end. They are two who make one. Even if both people are independent, they will not want to be away from each other.

✮⋆˙ Groom 7H could mean groom is very romantic, and he could be in love with briede. He could want to cuddle a lot and do romantic things for briede the most. Groom will probably talk a lot about marriage and wedding matters. Groom conjunct Mercury, another big sign a proposal is indeed a possibility, and Groom could feel like proposing very fast to Briede.

✮⋆˙ Briede 5H could mean briede is romantic too but could want to do more dates, she could be the one making the dates fun more than romantic. Briede will talk a lot about the relationship and children.

✮⋆˙ Groom Taurus will make groom probably have a lot of money, and groom can possibly also be good looking. Groom will care of his appearance and is a flirty person too. Groom could also want to pay in most of dates and will want to buy a lot of things for briede.

✮⋆˙ Briede Pisces means briede will be soft, emotional, has a big empathy, and perhaps too nice. She can also be quite shy, in her world, but very imaginative. Briede will be very romantic and perhaps will do a lot of love declarations for groom. Briede will want to take care of groom too. Briede may be more spiritual than groom.

✮⋆˙ 9H Ruler being Mercury could be a sign this couple speaks many different languages or just are a foreign couple who speaks two different languages.

✮⋆˙ Chiron Libra can mean the couple had some traumas related to love, relationships and will heal those in this relationship.

✮⋆˙ Chiron 12H means this relationship is very spiritual and indeed the two of them will heal the other's wounds. Yet, there can be time of self-sabotage in the relationship because of those wounds.

Thank you for reading!

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