#I’m reality nobody probably cares

[awfcrusso]

I’ve just come to the conclusion of what my dream date is.

Has to happen when it’s dark so means it can maybe turn into a #sleepoverrrr

Includes films lots of films but what films?SCOBBY DOOBY DOO. Every scooby doo film or well however many we can watch. Has to include the live actions but most importantly scooby doo 2 monsters unleashed as it’s the best film ever made

We have lots of drinks can be alcohol but I don’t like alcohol so lots of fizzy pop and water coz I love water. And then snacks cant forget snacks.

Where will it be watched? In my luxurious bed under my heavenly soft humongous fluffy blanket with lots of pillows coz I love pillows. And my cat may turn up because my bedroom is also her bedroom we share. I’d say cuddle but I hate being touched so none of that

That is all

[paarksunghoon]

Sunghoon trying to stay sane and respectful but your love for mini skirts and barely there tops are testing his patience day by day. He's not a horn dog but God when you press against him, so soft, so pretty and oh so naive..do you not notice your entire cleavage hanging out for his eyes to drink in, or the skirt riding up your luscious thighs as you rant about your day?

as someone who wears mini skirts all the time…nbgngngn. i’m also pretty high but reading this really put a number on me so sorry for typos lol

***

Sunghoon is a skirt chaser.

He’s always loved seeing girls wearing them since it made their legs look longer. It didn’t matter much to him—short girls or tall girls—he loved seeing ass peeking out from under the skirt and how they’d always tug at the hem to pull it down. Sunghoon doesn’t date much either (although that definitely wasn’t because nobody wanted him like that either; he wasn’t looking for that type of commitment).

He loved the kind of skirts that paired well for going out. Sure, the solid color staples pieces were cute. But the way silk touches the skin and how hips sway in these fabrics was enough to make his mouth salivate.

When you started wearing them, Sunghoon became perplexed.

You, his best friend since twelve, seemed to have ditched jeans and long dresses for short skirts and baby tees. In the past few months, he’s seen you switch up your wardrobe to the point where he was sure you had more than enough mini skirts to last you a lifetime. They came in all colors and styles, one for every color underneath the rainbow and then some. His friends all noticed this too, eyes following your ass every time you walked in front of them. That made him mad.

The thing is, you have an amazing ass and your tits always sit so pretty. He tries not to stare and gawk at you every time you wear these kinds of clothes. You keep it fairly tame when you’re in broad daylight and push the boundaries on a night out. You don’t seem to care that his friends stare at you every time you try to cover yourself up from a gust of wind or when you bend down. Sunghoon has probably seen your panties too many times.

He really doesn’t understand why all of these feelings are bubbling up. He’s seen you in bikinis and didn’t react like this. Sunghoon is confused but that doesn’t stop his dick from getting hard every time he pictures your outfits when he’s in the safety of his bedroom.

His favorite way to get off is by pushing his back against the bed frame and spreading his legs, holding his fist in a circle and he pumps himself up and down. Sunghoon pictures you riding him in one of your infamous mini skirts, looking up at the ceiling and imagining what you’d look like on top of him. He thinks about how he’d look down and the dirty affair would be covered by the fabric, as if thinking about fucking your best friend wasn’t weird.

Sunghoon is pulled back to reality when you squeeze his bicep in lieu of a greeting.

“Do you have our tickets?”

He nearly jumps out of his skin. “Jesus, Y/N. You need to warn a guy before you creep up on them.”

“All I did was touch your arm!” His cheeks feel hot as you laugh. “Were you in deep thought, or something?”

His eyes flicker to the shortest skirt he’s ever seen you wear but scoffs, playing it off. “Nah. You’re as quiet as a mouse.”

“Well this mouse wants to go inside.”

You don’t wait for him to answer you. Sunghoon feels you tug him by the hand towards the security line in front of the concert venue. You’ve been a bit more physical with him lately, tugging on his arm and sifting your fingers through his hair whenever he’d lay his head on top of yours. He only ever means to for a brief second in the way friends do, but he hesitates to pull away once you tug at his roots.

The artist is a band you two discovered a few years back and he was in charge of buying the concert tickets for the both of you. Sunghoon sees the fruit of his labor pay off when you’re both standing inside after you both pass through security. The venue is crowded and small, but you’re sure everybody is too high out of their minds to notice people bumping into them anyway.

As the two of you walk closer towards the middle, it starts to get tighter. Sunghoon moves you in front of him and puts his hands on your waist to guide you and doesn’t mind that your arms are resting on top of his.

You don’t move away from him once you’ve joined others either. He noticed that you’re a bit shorter than everyone else around you. “Do you want to get on my shoulders during your favorite songs?”

“No, that’s okay. I want to dance.”

He looks down at your skirt. “Mhm, let me know if you change your mind.

The two of you wait until the show begins and you’re talking to him about how excited you are for tonight but all he can think about is how he could cop a feel if he really wanted to. The skirt you’re wearing provides him easy access to touch you but he refuses to act on his urges, often flexing his fingers to calm himself down.

Halfway through the show and everyone is having a great time. You’ve danced for an hour straight and feel your legs wobbling after jumping and screaming the lyrics to Sunghoon. He’s a bit taken aback when you rest your back against his chest but tries not to think too much into it.

But you stay like that for a while and he can feel the fabric of your skirt. He toys with it absentmindedly as he nods his head to the melody until he feels your legs tensing against him. When he looks down, your thighs are squished together.

Fuck. He wonders if you’re horny.

Sunghoon hooks his chin over your shoulder and peeks down below to where his hands graze the hem of your mini skirts. When you don’t motion for him to move away, he grunts when his hands start to disappear and moans directly in your ear when his fingers touch your panties. It’s only then does he realize how wet you are.

His other arm is secured over your waist and you grip onto him at the sudden contact across your blooming core. He swipes his index and middle fingers back and forth to gauge just how wet you’ve become, smearing it all over your panties. It brings a gasp out of you and he pushes his lap against your ass.

It’s too much and he’s too hard. Neither of you are paying much attention to the show anymore, too wrapped up in your own little world to focus on anything else. Sunghoon nearly moans out loud when he realizes you’re allowing him to hump you from behind.

“Are you trying to ruin this friendship?”

Sunghoon feels you nod against him and the two of you head out of the venue and into his car. He tries to keep it in his pants on the ten minute drive back to his apartment. You don’t fuss when Sunghoon shoves his hand between your legs and keeps rubbing over your pussy as he drives, one hand on the wheel while he plays with you. Your best friend bites his lip and tenses when arousal gushes out of you.

“Recline and open your legs wider, baby.” You do as he says and he pats your clit twice. “Good girl, listening to me like that.” He switches his ministrations and brings his thumb to rub over your clit in back and forth motions. “Need to make sure you stay wet.”

And stay wet you do. You’re wet all the way home where he locks the two of you in his place until he’s dropping to his knees and pushing your chest against the wall. Sunghoon puts his face between your legs and licks up the arousal clinging to your panties while spreading your cheeks apart with his big hands, squeezing when you yelp.

He pulls the pathetic fabric aside and sticks his tongue into you, prying yourself open for his viewing. His warmth breath fans over your core and it has you pushing back against his face until his tongue licks you up in repeated motions.

Sunghoon doesn’t really care that he’s too horny for foreplay and neither do you, apparently, because when you hear sunghoon unzip his pants and take them off, you’re taking your panties off and taking your shoes off too. He grabs himself and aligns his tip with your hole before pushing all of himself inside.

You’re so wet. It’s so hot. He fucks you like he’s got enough stamina to last a lifetime and your tits bounce against the walls at the pace he’s set. He pulls back far enough that he nearly slips out every time but without fail, Sunghoon will make sure his dick stays wet the entire time you’re with him.

He pulls you back onto the couch with his cock still lodged inside of you, manhandling your body until he’s got you on his lap and your feet are placed by his knees. Sunghoon pushes his hips upwards and fucks you like this, balls slapping your clit with every thrust. He moans when you moan, the emptiness of his apartment filled up by erotic noises that only spur on his orgasm.

Your release triggers his. When he feels your cum seeping down onto the base, Sunghoon shoots his thick ropes into you but doesn’t stop thrusting. Albeit lazier and more random, he keeps his frantic pace and lets you dig your fingers into him while you wonder how your best friend made you cum so fast.

“Fuck!” you moan when Sunghoon pulls out just to push himself back in once he’s made your body lay in front of him.

“You’re so fucking sexy in these things.” He acknowledges the skirt by flipping the fabric with his fingers. Sunghoon doesn’t give you enough time to reply but you’re too busy moaning to care about the consequences anyway. “Wear them more often and I’ll fuck you like this every time.”

Since when is your best friend so good at dirty talk?!

***

comments and reblogs are appreciated! xx

[yumeboshi]

𝜗𝜚。．．❛ #02. XXX!

𐙚 topic。．hcs of random things that turn on hsr men

．。𝜗𝜚 cw。suggestive content, i wrote this with no brain, MINORS DNI

．。𝜗𝜚 a/n。aven, sunday, and blade. I wanna write for my bootyhill but i need to study him more to get a grip of him lol

#AྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིVENTURINE ⇢ rebuking his argument in a fight

。i js know he would go crazy when you do this 。he’d find people who just agree with him as boring. To him it may look even insincere 。but you? countering his smartly crafted arguments with irresistible logic with your pretty brain, glaring at him as you do with those adorable eyes? 。this man would go from being mad to being horny. tbh he would have probably already been horny in the argument 。nobody can be more masochistic than he is

“ARE YOU STUPID?” You glare at your boyfriend who looks nonchalant as he idly examines the coin between his fingers. “Fucking look at me. Do you know what happens when you join forces with them? You’re just risking the IPC and it will eventually lead to your unfortunate befall.”

You continue barreling on furiously with concrete points. Every time you prove him wrong, his eyes dance and he tries his hardest to bite back the grin that plays at his lips as you rant on. You are so perfect, he thinks- he is nonetheless impressed at you, your wondrous little brain. Something snaps inside of him when he sees you focused on derailing his points, your lips moving quickly to spit out syllables. He feels a loud moan caught in his throat.

“I get it, I’m sorry, princess, I won’t do it.” he suddenly surrenders and you eye him suspiciously as he advances, hands sneaking up to your back. “Let’s talk this out in bed, ‘m gonna apologize to you there.” He says softly, giving you lovely kisses along your neck but the way his fingers dig into your skin lets you know he’s not going to wait any longer.

And you will be confused as hell, because although you did win the argument, you feel like you just lost something else, a hidden little game he never taught you the rules to.

#SྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིUNDAY ⇢ whipped cream on your lips

。hear me out… i have a gut feeling he likes it a little too much 。ik it’s totally random but he will go nuts when he sees you bite down a particularly creamy cake that promptly smears its remains over your mouth- he tries to think of something more dignified, but he just can’t. His poor brain keeps returning to the most vulgar visuals of you. 。he will always point out whatever you had near your mouth when you two eat, because he’s such a clean freak, but anything with cream, specifically white whipped cream, he will be unable to comment on it and fall weirdly silent to he point you are confused why you not hear his scolding to wipe your mouth. 。he’ll just watch you eat dessert with a smile on your face as you savor the taste innocently. Unfortunately his brain is not, and he will start to feel his cock struggle under the fabric. 。”you have cream over your mouth, sweetheart. should i clean it for you?” he’ll sound restrained, like he’s being choked but his expression doesn’t waver. 。and after he found out his new obsession, he will literally only buy you huge whipped cream cakes for dessert.

“THE CAKE HERE IS SO GOOD.” You savor the taste happily and dig into the whipped cream cake and eat without much care. “Where’s it from?”

Sunday is too busy staring at you to register that. The creamy ring around your pink lips. It bothers him in a bad way. It’s making him feel like he is out of breath. His wings flicker wildly like a cooling fan, trying to blow off the heat that suddenly started to build inside his stomach like a raging primal flame that’s trapped by his own conscience.

You tap his shoulder gently and he snaps back to reality and tries to stare at your eyes instead, yes, lovely eyes, he thinks- your words phase in and out as he gulps, darting his eyes back to the cake.

“…the brand? The cake brand?” You ask again, frowning at his silence.

“Ah, yes, sorry, sweetheart. I was thinking of something else for a moment.” He breathlessly apologizes, the words spilling out a little too quickly like an excuse that makes your frown deepen in confusion— he closes his eyes and opens them again so the heat will ebb away. But his plans are obliterated when you take a portion of the cake and eat it, all while looking at him in the eye with curious doe eyes.

That’s when he can’t restrain himself anymore. He suddenly seizes your chin with his gloved hand, making you squeal in surprise when he practically devours your lips, licking up the cream residue around them roughly before shoving it inside your mouth with his tongue. The sweet cream melts when it gets to your mouth, mixing with his saliva that dips down your chin to make messy thick lines.

“It was from a shop at Golden Hour. I hope you like the taste,” he’d say as if he didn’t just feast on your mouth like a starved beast. “Me personally, i think it’s a tad too sweet.”

#BྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིLADE ⇢ treating his wounds

。it’s ironic because Blade doesn’t want to be healed at all 。but how could he refuse you you’re frantically at his door with an emergency kit, worry written all over you- you are like a cute puppy that keeps following him around. 。he lets you do it reluctantly at first, grumbling about it inwardly 。but when you lift up his shirt with no hesitation to put gauze to soak in the blood, his muscles tense visibly, when your touch ghosts over his skin like tiny little lilies blooming in their wake. 。what have you done to him? He feels nothing but tension and something he didn’t want to register, something a little too pleasant to him. 。and at some point he will actually look forward to having his would treated by you. He still likes pain, but he likes your touch drifting over his bruised skin like an innocent butterfly way more.

“DOES IT HURT?” You softly pat the ointment around another fresh scar on his broad chest. It pains you to see that most of the scars are near his heart. You sigh like a worried mother. “You worry me.”

“I enjoy it,” he grunts in response, but his brain ran a quick recap. Enjoy what? The pain? Or your smooth touch?

“Stay still,” you say, and he does, as you carefully squeeze in another ointment into an ugly looking scar. His eyes never leave you the whole time, his muscles tense at the pain but otherwise he’s relaxed. His intimidating stare makes you scared a little, considering this mysterious man didn’t speak his mind often.

“I think that’s it,” you say, quickly trying to lower Blade’s shirt back- but the man grabs your wrist mid-action. You jump, confused. His eyes are unreadable but he states, “You’re not done.”

you frown in puzzlement. “I double-checked, im pretty sure I didn’t miss a spot.”

He lifts his shirt up and with his bandaged finger, cuts open the scar you just treated for him, making it ooze another layer of fresh blood around the dried wound. His lips form a rare smirk as he looks at your wide-eyed stare.

“There, you have a new wound to work on.”

He will do that until you are out of ointment, and the next day he will come visit you first this time with another set of fresh scars.

[covid-safer-hotties]

To My Unmasked Friend in the Fifth Year of COVID - By: Anna Holmes - Published Aug 17, 2024

I’m going to be honest with you, because I love you, and you deserve nothing but honesty. I’m going to try really hard not to be angry while I do it, but it’s probably going to slip out every now and again. But I need you to hear me out, all right?

By now, we’ve talked about my reality. My personal struggle with long COVID, the isolation I live in, why I am so angry all the time.

But let’s talk about you. You just went to a big convention overseas. You got on a plane, got a little gussied up, talked shop with some insiders, geeked out over awards and merch, ate, drank, were merry, left with your social cup and your heart full.

You’re a good person. We wouldn’t be friends otherwise! You’d never dream of tripping a person with a red and white cane, using the r-word, excluding a disabled person from an event because of something they can’t help.

You might even acknowledge that the COVID response from governments and organizations has been ableist and inadequate.

But you didn’t wear a mask.

For whatever reason — you wanted to show off your makeup, it makes you itchy, you believed the messaging that COVID is endemic (what does that actually mean?), you just don’t think about it anymore — you made a choice that actively excludes people like me from participating not only in an event like a convention, but society at large. And yes, it is a choice. Every time you step out into the world without a mask on your face, you have made a decision that your very good reason, whatever it is, supersedes the right of disabled and at-risk people to exist safely in your orbit.

Well, hold on, you say. It’s not any one individual’s fault, it’s the inadequate public health messaging. Isn’t that what you’ve been saying?

And I have. In the past, I have talked about how it is unconscionable that health authorities have thrown their hands up and rescinded guidance that would have saved hundreds of thousands of lives and prolonged a pandemic that, to hear them tell it, has been bested. It hasn’t. Worst of all, the financial motivation that we all know is driving this premature victory lap isn’t even being fulfilled. Long COVID and other post-COVID complications are costing the global economy one trillion a year. Meanwhile, article after article handwrings about nobody wanting to work anymore, about the sagging college application scene, about declines in military enlistment, and the strain on our healthcare systems.

All of this is very much the fault of our leaders, who have decided the political ramifications of “normalcy” are more important than the health and lives of the 400 million people living with long COVID across the globe, the immunocompromised folks who are increasingly being shut out of every conceivable public space, and the disabled community which has been screaming into the wind about our marginalization since before the virus even hit US soil.

But I want to be very clear. You are helping them do this.

The reality is that we have been living in this deeply flawed landscape of “personal choice”, and you’ve made yours. You’ve opted not to look into how densely clustered cases are. You’ve stopped listening to your friends who have informed themselves. You’ve given yourself permission to put COVID on the back burner. You’ve earned it, right? Four and a half years of trauma?

COVID doesn’t care if you’re tired of being scared or careful or considerate. COVID is not something you can personally overcome by being smart or virtuous or brave. It is a virus which only seeks to infect and replicate, and it is getting very good at those things. While you’ve looked away, my community has been scrambling to avoid variants that skirt immunity and don’t show up on rapid tests until day five-seven. The constant battle has changed since you were last in it. It’s not sufficient anymore to get your shots and test before a big event. You could well be asymptomatic and infectious, or have symptoms and convinced yourself it can’t be COVID because that second line hasn’t popped up.

You have come to the conclusion sometime between 2022 and now that you just have to decide what level of risk you’re comfortable with and live with it. The problem with that is scale. It’s you and everybody else doing that, and a lot of people have decided they are comfortable with a high level of risk. Despite what you’ve been told, you’re not just making that decision for yourself. You are making it for every person you come in contact with.

Think back to the early tense days of 2020. We were told to select a “bubble.” Those people would be our social lifelines, and through those, we could control our exposure.

My bubble is quite small. It includes my husband, my sister, and two friends I see relatively frequently.

My husband goes to work via the bus, and to the grocery store. Every person he comes in contact with there has the potential to infect him, and then he has the potential to pass it along to me. He mitigates this by wearing a well-fitted respirator at all times.

My sister goes to work at a busy public place. She masks when public facing and takes it off in the back office. She goes to restaurants, bars, concerts, hangs out with friends and her own partner unmasked. About 75% of her interactions have the heightened potential to infect her, which she might then bring into my house when she visits me.

My friends do not mask anywhere except my house when asked. They attend concerts, shows, cons, bars.

Obviously, I am in control of whether I wear a mask around these people. And as we approach one million new cases a day, I will be around everyone but my husband. But science is clear: reciprocal masking is more effective at infection control than a single person masking — especially when that single person is trying to protect themselves, not others.

This is settled science. We’ve known this since 2020. It says clearly that the choice you make is not personal- it has implications for everyone you come in contact with.

And being clear — if I could, I’d make everyone wear a mask for their own health. I don’t want people suffering with what I have. But you’ve been told this lie that you can take your risks for yourself, so you feel comfortable going out without a mask. You’ve been told this lie that it’s possible to completely recover from a COVID infection, so you assume that even if you do catch it, that’s what’ll happen to you, despite evidence showing that every body is indelibly changed by an infection, and that risk only grows with each subsequent infection.

And the greatest lie of all — that only the sick or elderly have anything to fear from COVID — has given you unfounded confidence in your own “good” genes or immune system or fitness. You can get long COVID even if you’re in peak form — in fact, may even be more likely to be hit hard.

So you have decided, individually and collectively, that only the sick or elderly should have to take precautions, and you freewheel through life, only to get surprised and dismayed when you bump into COVID in the wild. It’s back, people declare every summer or winter, as though it ever left.

But I want you to really think about the implications of your choice. Besides yourself. Because let’s be honest here, that’s who you’ve been thinking about, right? Your risk. Your comfort. Never mind your bubble, never mind the bubble of everyone you come into contact with, never mind the people like me who are literally hiding from people like you.

You’re not masking at the doctor’s office. You’re not masking at the airport. You’re not masking at the giant superspreader you just attended, and you’re not masking in the bars and restaurants where we know the virus flourishes. And then you’re bringing that exposure back to your family and friends. Back to the grocery store, where you run across people like my husband, shopping for someone who is unsafe to leave the house, or your elderly neighbors, or an immunocompromised employee.

You’re a good person, or you like to think of yourself that way. That’s why when you’re asked to mask, you dismiss it out of hand — because that changed behavior implies that you’ve been doing something wrong.

And my friend, I’m telling this because I love you: you have been. You might have been doing that on faulty information, but be honest with yourself and with me — you’ve heard me begging people to take this seriously. You’ve seen the information I’ve been sharing. You have had the opportunity to seek out the correct information all along, and you have chosen not to.

It isn’t too late to change your view of the risk you’re imposing on the people around you. It’s not too late to push public health to become more effective. It’s not too late to act in solidarity and be the inclusive person you think you are. It’s not too late to take care of yourself.

Ultimately, that’s what I have been screaming myself hoarse about. I don’t want you to end up with what I have. I don’t want you to inadvertently impose that on someone else. And yes, I’ve been angry, because you’ve been advertising your absolute lack of concern with group shots of your naked faces on social media. It doesn’t seem to bother you that I am stuck at home like it’s 2020, except for doctors’ appointments that I literally have to risk my life to go to. You’ve told yourself that it’s not your problem, because only the sick and elderly have to take precautions.

You know better. You can do better. For your community, yourself, and me, do better.

Please. I love you.

Anna

PS. If you’re feeling upset and embarrassed right now, the best thing you can do is take action. Get yourself good masks (the surgicals and cloth ones don’t cut it anymore), donate to mask blocs so others can access good masks, write to your representatives and the President, comment on upcoming CDC guidance, schedule yourself a booster, and talk to your loved ones about doing better, too. The only way we get out of this is with community care. So care.

[erithacusrou]

Wahhhh I finally got my shit sorted into a little planner setup on Trello and I’m so pleased 😤 I can now see at a glance my events, chores, and tasks for each day and for the next week. It’s not very customizable and I can’t see a whole week at once, but I’ll make it work. Thinking ahead and estimating how long a task will take are weaknesses of mine, so hopefully I can keep this up for more than just a week. I don’t have a lot of time for art just because I’m so behind on chores, but I’m trying to squeeze it in where I can >n>

My brain has been stressing about this for weeks because it’s what my brain decided to hyperfocus on for the new year, and though I’m not entirely happy with Trello, it’s better than continuing to fester on not finding a perfect solution for my need to see my whole day at a glance. If I could integrate my calendar app with my habits app, my reminders app, my journaling app, my notes app, and my chores app, i could have avoided all this, but I am unfortunately not an app prodigy 😞 I just want one app for everything!! Argh.

[bahablastplz]

All in | Chapter 13

pairing: Lee Felix x f!reader (mafia au)

summary: You didn't know what you were getting yourself into when you started dating Yang Jungwon, notorious mafia boss. Your life gets flipped upside down when you're found beaten and bloody by SKZ, the rival mafia group, and you're quickly integrated into their lives. What will happen when you try to leave your old life behind and start anew?

chapter summary: you notice a familiar pattern of how things tend to go in your life.

warnings: please see series masterlist for all warnings.

series masterlist ~~ series taglist ~~ main masterlist

Felix isn’t there when you wake up. 

You aren’t exactly surprised but you can’t say it doesn’t sting a little bit. You were hoping to wake up in his arms, staring dreamily at his inhuman delicate features before you had to face reality. 

He did, however, leave you a note. 

‘Dear sunshine,

Thank you for last night. I’m sorry I had early morning business to attend to. I would keep you in my arms all day if I could. You are my everything.

LF.’ 

You suppose that makes things a little better. With a stretch, you get out of bed and take a shower. Your body feels surprisingly good, only a little sore from yesterday’s activities but overall pretty content. Your heartbeat flutters in your chest. In just the past 24 hours, you have gotten a chance to see your sister and explain yourself as well as get with the man that has been tempting you with his tantalizing sex appeal for weeks. Life is pretty good. 

Things around the house are surprisingly domestic. You see yourself fitting in a little bit too comfortably. You watch more reality TV and romcoms than you probably should. You train with Changbin and Felix, and sometimes Jisung will take you outside to practice shooting in the makeshift-range. You sit and read in Hyunjin’s room while he paints, sitting in comfortable silence. You help Jeongin sort through his closet and try to deny when he wants to give you hand-me-down jewelry much more expensive than you’re worth. You deny Bang Chan’s proposal for another date, feigning sickness under his careful eye. 

You and Felix sneak touches when nobody is watching. Some nights he sneaks into your room after dark, when you’re on the verge of sleep. You only register the scent he leaves behind on your pillow and careful kisses pressed to your forehead when he leaves before dawn, silent as a whisper. Other nights he pounds you into the mattress hard enough to make you forget your own name, drawing countless orgasms out of you until your body is spent. He knows your body as well as his own. 

Today, you play uno. 

You aren’t mad when Jisung comes barreling down the hall with alcohol in hand, fist rapping against the door and pleading at you with large eyes to come and play. You can’t deny, wouldn’t want to even if you could. 

You, Felix, Jisung, Changbin, Minho and Jeongin play the most chaotic game of uno you have ever played. Hyunjin and Chan are in his office, discussing matters far too dreary for you to want to comprehend. You wouldn’t want Chan to play anyway, as you think he would make the activity far too tense for all; you do find yourself missing Hyunjin’s presence, though. You’re not sure where Seungmin is, as he didn’t answer his door when you knocked. You sway back and forth lightly, alcohol drumming through your veins. Though you didn’t have much to drink, you can feel the buzz that makes it slightly easier to smile, especially when Jeongin picks up twelve cards. 

Minho targets Changbin, constantly skipping his turn which makes him groan louder and louder each time. A series of giggles escape your throat and you find that you’re truly, pleasantly enjoying yourself. 

Until shit hits the fan, of course, like it always does. 

You can tell something is wrong before anybody confirms. A tick of silence that sits unnaturally at the table before you hear the screaming.  

“Where is she!?” you hear a strangled cry. 

You find out after the fact: Nobody has ever seen Kim Seungmin lose his composure quite like he had on this night. He had always been stoic, reserved, calculating. Not one to allow himself to become overrun by emotions. This is not something that you would have inferred after seeing him in the state of disarray that he arrived in. 

In fact, it reminded you of the way you looked on the day that you arrived. 

Bruises, tears, blood. Seungmin is the whole trifecta when he limps into the kitchen soon after slamming the front door behind him hard enough to shatter the glass. You jump in your seat. The alcohol that once caused a warm, pleasurable feeling now causes you to feel nervous, unalert. You could throw it up in an instant now that it sits uneasy in your stomach, threatening to burn your esophagus.

“Seungmin?” It’s Jeongin that speaks up, standing slowly with his hands raised as if ready to calm a wild animal. Chan and Hyunjin have now joined in on the rapid development. 

“You,”  he stares, a pointed gaze in his eyes as he looks you up and down. “This is all your fault.” Everybody else is in various stages of standing and grabbing various objects, probably to stop the blood that pours out of his leg. You can’t bring yourself to stand; in fact, you’re the only one remaining seated, rooted in place at the table and frozen to the point that you can’t bring yourself to speak. The words are on the tip of your tongue, tears on the brink of falling when all you want to do is ask, ‘what have I done?’ It feels undeserving, selfish for you to cry when Seungmin is standing there, tears pouring out of his eyes as a heavy sob racks over his body. 

You realize then the nature of his injury. Seungmin has been shot, the fabric of his pants rolled up on one side to expose the skin on his calf. It’s deep, a mixed and irritated red/purple color that’s unsettling to look at, and suddenly it’s as if you’re back in that warehouse with Jungwon, trying not to stare at the wound that sat right between his eyes killing him dead. This scene is almost more gruesome, Seungmin’s own hands soaked in the substance as if he tried to put a stop to the bleeding with just his hands. The blood is everywhere, on his face as he makes to wipe away his tears, smeared on the wall that he leans against, all over the floors trailing to the kitchen. 

You do throw up this time, unabashedly. You make it to the trash can at least and you vaguely recognize a hand on your back rubbing small circles to comfort you. It’s Lee Know that holds back your hair as you retch a second time, overwhelmed by the sounds of shouting and pushing and things falling over as Seungmin goes on a rampage. 

“Heeseung shot me and it’s your fault!” you hear him cry. “I wish you never came to live with us.” Your blood runs cold as you slump to the ground, watching as Seungmin gets dragged away in order to get medical attention. 

“Heeseung…” his name escapes your lips. You want to make some sort of argument that he’s the one who’s keeping you here, that he’s the reason you’re still in this house… but that’s not true. It’s Chan. Realistically you could be halfway across the world by now with your sister and Lee Heeseung probably would never find you.

The room has since cleared out but its remnants serve as a reminder of what has just happened. You recognize Felix looping his hands under your arms, helping you up and walking with you to your room. You try not to look at the blood on your way out. 

You sway back and forth outside of your door, trying to ground yourself. Felix’s worried expression does nothing to help, though his gentle hand on your shoulder is more than welcome. 

“Felix–” 

“Seungmin used to play baseball,” he tells you, staring up at the ceiling. “He would’ve gone pro, too. When he was a senior in college he tore his ACL. It was pretty nasty, the way he described it. When things started going downhill, he found Chan. Or, rather, Chan found him. After he joined SKZ, Chan promised to pay for his surgery to repair it. It’s been years but I think he’s always been hanging onto that promise.” 

You hug Felix tight as the tears flow out of your eyes, sobbing vehemently into his arms. His hand comes to stroke the back of your head, to comfort you. 

“It’s my fault,” you whisper. “He’s right.” 

“These things happen,” Felix says as he tries to console you. “It’s part of the job description and Seungmin knew that. He’s upset but his anger is displaced. It’s not you, it’s Chan he’s really upset with. He knew that surgery was just Chan’s way of trying to get him to stay, a bargaining chip.” 

You pull Felix into your room at that moment after looking both ways, noticing that nobody is occupying the hallway. 

You practically shove him against the wall just so you can rest your head against his shoulder. 

“Felix, there’s something seriously messed up going on in this house,” you sigh. 

He doesn’t respond at first. You notice the sad, faraway gaze in his eyes and you choose to kiss it away, pushing your lips against him in a way that is soft but heavy, heavy in all that lies beneath it and what is left unspoken. His lips are pillowy against yours and you can feel every breath he takes, every soft inhale against your lips. 

The two of you walk backwards until you’re in the bathroom, your back pressed against the countertop. He lifts you up effortlessly, never removing his lips from yours. He lifts your shirt over your head, discarding his own at some point in the process. You realize his plan as he turns the faucet, turning on the shower before checking the water to make sure it’s warm. 

Gentle caresses, as if his fingertips are trying to memorize the exact way your skin feels against them. He traces every curve, presses chaste kisses against your neck before helping you up. You finish undressing and allow him to guide you into the shower. 

The warm water against your skin feels amazing, immediately washing away any traces of the scene you just witnessed. Felix falls to his knees before you and you watch as rivulets of water stream down his face. He pushes you until you lean against the shower wall for support and he grabs your leg, hooking it around his head until he has access to the thing he had been looking for. 

When Felix eats you out this time it’s gentle, exploring, and he coaxes an orgasm out of your body like it’s his second nature. His tongue against your clit, his fingers crooked inside you, you find it easy to fall apart for him. 

He stands, pressing a kiss against your head. He scrubs your body for you, washes your hair, kisses every inch of exposed skin until you’re a giggling mess. Even when the laughs turn to cries, he wipes each tear away, drying your body off with a towel and helping you get into bed. 

You realize that without him, with all the time that has passed and trauma that has racked through your body, you wouldn’t have made it this far. That you wouldn’t be this alright with the circumstances you’ve been presented with. In just a few weeks he has helped you to become stronger, to realize that you are worthy of being loved and capable of laughing even when all things go to shit. You realize at this moment that you love him. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

taglist: @shuporanporang ; @purp13st4r ; @eurydiceofterabithia ; @heartsbyandra ; @thicccurls ;

@rylea08 ; @the-sweetest-rose ; @oddracha ; @kapelover ; @goldenmellow ;

@zerefdragn33l ; @uhh-awkward-rightt ; @astudyoftimeywimeystuff ; @kaleigh-2002 ; @thatonexcgirl ;

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@1810cl ;

[luckykiwiii101]

Tough Love, Oops, I meant Tough *Hate

(There’s nothing comforting or kind for you to read in this post, and i’m going to be very harsh, if you can’t handle that, then don’t read.)

Hey Pathetic Upper East Sider.

Here are some fun facts about you! ->

- You’re the reason you don’t have what you want. You blame your circumstances…when in reality it’s actually all your fault and only your fault.

You’re pathetic.

- You aren’t persisting because you’re too lazy to pick a new story and fulfill yourself with it. Talk about self harm, but mentally.

Pathetic

- You’re going to continue to stay miserable because you find comfort in it.

Pathetic

- Ignore all the bloggers that tell you that you can manifest anything you want. Plot twist. You can’t. Because you won’t persist.

Pathetic

- You clearly don’t love yourself. At least not enough.

Pathetic

- You have no aura. Infact, you are an insult to aura itself. Aura runs from you. At full speed.

Pathetic

- You can’t even do something that requires not even moving a muscle.

Pathetic

- The audacity. Of you. Burning in hell. When you’re not even dead yet.

Pathetic

- The devil himself would be kinder to you, than you are to yourself.

Pathetic

- I always wondered how much self hate it took to destroy your own life, but looking at you…now I know.

Pathetic

- You’re not even living, you’re surviving.

Pathetic

- When your life goes downhill, how does it feel knowing even you wouldn’t have the will to save yourself..?

Pathetic

- No one will be there for you, because nobody understands that you have the power to change your own life. They’d never understand. No one is here for you. No one understands you. No one.

Pathetic

- Way harsh but suicide doesn’t seem any worse from this.

Pathetic

- You’re the reason you’re going to end up crying tomorrow. You’re the reason your pillow is drenched at night. You’re the reason.

Pathetic

- You’re never going to be happy. And it’s all your fault.

Pathetic

- You’re the villain that the audience actually wants to get rid of.

Pathetic

- No one on this app cares about you.

Pathetic

(Do I sound harsh enough yet? Well maybe because you let the truth be harsh).

- Again, it’s all your fault.

Pathetic

- People younger than you are out there living their dream lives.

Pathetic

- Let go of all that hope for the future. The future’s got nothing for you apart from eternal misery. I would say you have nothing but misery is far from nothing.

Pathetic

- Delete your vision boards, they’ll never be your reality. Now they’ll only make you miserable. What sane person stares at things they know they can never have?

Pathetic

- If you really had it in you, you would’ve done it by now. Or at least tried.

Pathetic

- The fact that you think this is all difficult.

Pathetic

- The audacity you have to feel bad for yourself. Don’t cry at the fact that your life is miserable. Cry at the fact that it’s all your fault.

Pathetic

- You’re powerless. With power comes persistence. And you’ll do anything but persist.

Pathetic

- You’re not going to persist today, you’re not going to persist tomorrow, you’re not going to persist next week..

Pathetic

- Tomorrow you’re going to wake up, with nothing you want. And your lack of care for yourself is the reason why you’re going to live like that forever. Enjoy your 9-5. If you can even get one..

Pathetic

- The fact that you think i’m kidding.

Pathetic

- The fact that right now you’re telling yourself “maybe i should persist” when you told yourself that months ago…and here you are. Same old same old…

Pathetic

- It’ll reach 2026 and you still won’t have anything you want.

Pathetic

- Remember all that excitement you felt reading those success stories?…funny how it’ll never be you…

Pathetic

- The fact that the only reason you probably saw this is because of the #loasuccess tag, when you can’t even relate..

Pathetic

- You’re never going to have what you want. You gave up ages ago when you decided to not persist. I think it’s time you truly accept it. You’re never going to have what you want. Read that again.

Pathetic

- You don’t have tomorrow to redeem yourself because you’re never going to stay consistent with yourself and persist. You’ve already tried that before.

Pathetic

- You’re hopeless.

Pathetic

- The fact that all this is to you, is just words on a screen, and not your actual reality.

Pathetic

- And the worst of them all…you’re going to read this, feel bad, and just keep scrolling. As usual.

Pathetic.

Happy miserable scrolling, as your miserable little finger scrolls from this post, and your miserable little eyes skim the words of the next, as your miserable little child self watches you crush their dreams, and take away everything. everything. everything.

You are actually just…pathetic. It’s pitiful. I know.

P.S. Did I forget to mention? You’re pathetic.

- gossip girl

[cannibalsclass]

BEHIND THE BOOKSHELVES

librarian!billie x student!oc

Authors note: i decided to split this into two parts because i’ve been so busy and can’t write the second part to save my life. i promise y’all it’ll be out before monday trustttt. anyways this look ass but whatever smh

Warnings: not proof read

clara was extremely obsessed with reading. it was absolutely hands down her favorite hobby ever. if she was bored, she’d read. sad? read. stressed out? read. 

something about escaping her reality through these stories made her feel something. so when she went to her new college in LA she immediately caught the librarians eye. 

billie had only been working at the school for two years now but wouldn’t be able to tell you one students name off the top of her head. that was before clara came along.

clara would come into the library everyday, sometimes even multiple times. clara was also really recognizable. while most college students would walk around campus in big baggy shirts and grey sweats, clara really made a statement. 

each day she would get dressed up in the cutest sweaters and short mini skirts with her same pair of doc martens. she looked like she belonged in the library.

billie genuinely never payed attention to anyone who came and went. no one ever cared to talk to billie, even ask for help finding a book. people would just come in and get her to scan their novels and walk out without saying a word. not clara though. 

“hi, sorry can you help me?” the girl asked. billie looked up from her desk. immediately locking eyes with the girl. billie furrowed her eyebrows, no one ever talked to her. “yeah of course.” billie replied with a smile on her face. “uhm i’m new here, a freshman actually, and i was wondering if you could help me find the romance section?” clara asked politely. 

her brown honey eyes only had innocence in them. she batted her eyelashes at billie like a little puppy. billie smiled and got up from her chair. “yeah, it’s right over here.” she began to guide her. 

clara followed behind. her skirt swaying back and forth as she walked. “its kind of hidden in the back for some reason. the people who made the layout in here must of been some bitter person since it’s so hidden. no one even comes back here most of the time because nobody even knows it exist.” billie explains with a chuckle. “wow really?” clara asked, interest filling her tone. billie looked back at here. “yeah.. well.. here you go. if you ever need anything let me know.” billie reminded her. clara flashed her one last smile and went to serching. she definitely kept the words if you ever need anything let me know in mind. 

almost everyday she would come into the library and ask billie a question. any other time billie would probably have gotten aggravated. but with clara she never minded. 

clara came in today. immediately greeting billie with a heart warming smile. that smile lighting up billie’s entire day. “hi bils!” clara spoke. the nickname immediately making billie’s face go red. she loved how friendly clara was. its like they had know each other their whole lives. clara went back on to the romance section leaving billie back at her desk alone. 

clara soon came over with a book in her hand. she rested her arms on billie’s desk, sliding the book to her. “hey billie can you tell me what this book is about? the description is pretty vague…” clara asked. billie happily obliged. 

billie was also a huge reader herself so most of the time if someone brought up a book she knew it. 

she took the book and read the cover. she immediately knew what book this was. “its kind of a generic enemies to lovers book. its a lesbian book too, if you know, your into that. its basically just a story where these two girls are forced to be camp counselors together who hate each other but then fall in love.” billie explains. clara nods. “sounds good enough.” billie took the book and scanned it. “i’ll see you again tomorrow bils.” clara said. a little seduction in her tone. it made billie shiver a little. 

clara knew what she was doing. she was extremely interested in billie. everything about her made her feel all kind of things. the way she dressed, like, a librarian but way hotter. the way billie’s glasses fit on her and made her already pretty blue eyes even more pretty. how billie would help her. something about it just made her want her more. so everything clara was doing she was very much aware of.

clara came in the next day. she wore a button down top that fit her in all the right places. her cleavage on full display. she also wore one of those cute little mini skirts that basically had her ass on display. she walked in the library confidently. her little sex mafia book in hand. she immediately made eyes with billie. her iconic smile flashing to billie, and billie flashing it back. 

clara began to walk up to her desk. “hi billieee.” clara said, dragging the e out. “there’s my favorite girl.” billie said while closing her book. the words my favorite girl lighting clara’s face up. clara sat her previous book on the counter and began to walk back to the romance section. 

clara looked through the books until she found something that caught her eye. the description got straight to the point. explaining how sexual the book was. it was a book about a mafia boss and his wife. the book was extremely explicit. a smirk creeping across clara’s face.

clara walked over with the book in her hand. she rested her arms on billie’s desk, her boobs basically on full display for the older girl. sliding the book to her, she said, “hey billie can you tell me if this book is good or not?” clara asked.

billie nodded, taking the book from her. she looked at the cover and immediately knew what it was. her cheeks flushed red. 

“its uhm, its basically this book about some mafia boss and his wife who go on these mission. the plots pretty boring if you ask me. it’s mainly just lots and lots of sex. while reading it i tended to got distracted on whatever was actually going on because the sex was so much.” billie explained. an evil grin began to plaster across clara’s face. a face that billie had never seen on her before. 

“perfect.” is all she said. billie’s eyebrows furrowed. clara didn’t look like the type of person to be interested in a book like this. but billie pushed away her questions and scanned the book for her. “thank you.” clara said. a little seduction in her tone. it made billie shiver a little. 

clara went back to her door. she wasn’t actually interested in the book if she was being honest. this was all part of her plan. 

she waiting till it was late at night. she was in her skimpy victoria secret pajamas. the same pajamas that you could see her nipples through. it was currently 8:50. ten minutes before the library closed. she wanted to give billie one more visit. 

she began to walk back down to the library. her book in hand. she walked in and the room was completely empty. billie couldn’t even been seen in sight. a confused expression filled clara’s face. she began to look around the room. she got onto the fiction section when she saw billie. her back was facing clara’s. she was putting up some books. clara walked up behind her and tapped her shoulder. billie swung around. a terrified look on her face. billie immediately grabbed her chest.

“holy shit clara, shit, you scared me oh my god.” she said while trying to calm her down. all clara could do is smile at her. “i’m sorry.. i didn’t mean to startle you..” billie sighed. “its uhm, its fine. w-what are you doing here so late?” billie asked. 

clara took her book from behind her back. “my book… its too boring.” she explained. billie chuckled. “yeah i told you..” clara cut her off. “no. not boring like you said. it was too.. soft for me. too vanilla. could you help me find a more interesting one bils?” clara asked her. she made that same innocent look. only this time billie knew she was faking. billie was utterly confused as to what was going on but she decided to play along. “uh, sure i guess..” billie began to lead her back to the romance section again. 

as they went to the back they both started looking at books together. that’s when clara pulled out one. one she had already read, but billie didn’t have to know that. “can you tell me what this one is about?” clara asked. billie took the book from her hands. billie hadn’t read this one yet. 

she turned the book around and looked at the description. “uhh it says it’s about a teacher and student affair.” billie says. clara began to get closer to billie. “well isn’t that interesting?” clara’s said tilting her head. billie began to get hot. “uhm, yeah i guess so..” billie couldn’t hold eye contact. “doesn’t the thought of doing something with someone you shouldn’t be just turn you on? i mean come on, anyone would agree with that, right?” clara asked. lust filled her voice. the way she delivered that sentence gave billie goosebumps. clara began to get closer to billie. their chest touching. billie could feel clara’s hard nipples. billie gulped. 

clara chuckled. “bils you look hot.. you should take your jacket off. your face is getting red to..” clara said with a mocking tone. billie didn’t know what was happening at this point. her head was mush. she couldn’t think properly. “clara, stop.” billie demanded. clara looked at her confused. “stop what? am i not allowed to be concerned for you bils?” clara asked, this time running her fingers on billie’s arms. billie couldn’t take this anymore. 

billie took clara by the arms and pinned her against the book shelf. a little gasp escaping clara’s mouth. “what are you trying to get out of this, hm? prancing around here like a little slut.” billie spoke. her voice was rough. clara wasn’t expecting this whatsoever but she was complaining. billie began to rap her fingers around clara’s neck. “so tell me. what is it that you want?” this was a completely new tone for clara. if she thought she was hot before, this completely changed everything. 

“please, billie. i need you.” clara spoke out pathetically. thats all billie needed in order to flip clara over.

TAGLIST (dm,inbox,or comment to be added!) : @muchloveforhacker @chrissv4mp @mseilishmwah @chrissfawn @dev-sturns @kise-mo @devynscomet

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 424: Detroit Tears

Previously on BnHA: You know what, fandom is way too heated about this still so we’re just going to leave that be that for now and not get involved. I have some conflicted feelings about it, but this is not the place or time. This is a happy post.

Today on BnHA: Oh right, Horikoshi still owns the rights to my soul. And I’ve just been reminded of why I willingly signed them over to him so freely.

Quick heads up that this isn’t going to be my usual style of chapter reaction post, in that it’s really just going to be a ton of rambling about That One Scene. Partly because I’m only halfway caught up with stuff, but mostly because tbh, this is the only thing that matters to me right at this moment.

Also this is your friendly neighborhood spoiler warning that I’m posting about a chapter which hasn’t officially been released yet! So proceed at your own discretion. This reaction is based on @pikahlua’s excellent spoiler translation writeup here. I’ve officially lost all of my fucks about spoilers and it’s extremely liberating.

I’m glad that Kacchan’s arm isn’t just magically better and that he’s never going to be 100% again. and also that the doctor mentions him needing to rest his heart as well. because I did feel like there needed to be at least a few lasting consequences from him LITERALLY DYING AND UNDERGOING OPEN-HEART SURGERY IN THE MIDDLE OF THE BATTLEFIELD. but I’m also glad they established that it wasn’t career-ending or anything. he’ll probably have some chronic pain and occasionally aggravate his old injuries while fighting, all of which is great for angst purposes. but it was good to see him being calmly accepting of that while also being determined to put the work in to rehab it as much as possible.

also enjoyed the doctor summing up Kacchan’s highly improbable main character resurrection and subsequent antics as basically being some wild bullshit that nobody can explain. lampshaded the shit out of it. “I don’t really understand” lol. nobody understands. in truth it’s that his secondary quirk is bending reality to his will in order to kick ass.

moving on to the main event now! so Kacchan and Izuku’s reunion was obviously the highlight of this chapter and of my life, probably. I’m not gonna sit here and pretend like it wasn’t. y’all know how it is.

what really made this scene for me was Kacchan being more upset at Izuku’s loss than Izuku himself. all those callbacks and all that guilt. that careful selection of flashback panels. the fact that Kacchan’s past bullying of the quirkless Izuku wasn’t glossed over or forgotten, and in fact is the emotional core that fuels Kacchan’s reaction here. Horikoshi didn't have to cut that deep, but he knows what he's about.

and then the crying. I need to write a lot of words about this right the fuck now. first off, having Kacchan just flat out sob while Izuku for once is the calm one (at least until All Might goes in for the emotional kill later on), is such a beautiful reversal and really shows how far they’ve come. even better is that none of it was even remotely out of character. I’m always appreciative when an author can produce top tier emotional hurt/comfort like this and have it feel earned and authentic rather than forced. well done.

also, “Na--cchan!!” fuck yeah Izuku. we’ll never let him live this down. (but also, him later trying to reconcile his forever-tough image of Kacchan with the crying, hiccupping version standing in front of him, by blaming it on Kacchan’s weakened physical state... oh, Izuku.)

also the fact that Kacchan so easily reverts to this smol crying boy even after defeating the world’s greatest evil pretty much activated every protective instinct that I have. he’s seventeen. he’s practically a man now. he’s objectively one of the strongest and toughest people in the entire world. and yet his eyes still go so wide and his face is still so young and Horikoshi still draws him so tiny and vulnerable whenever he’s like this. goddamn gets me EVERY single time. let’s be real, it’s been this way ever since the “you looked like you needed saving” scene back in the literal first chapter. just, omg. he’s still just a kid and he’s too small to contain all these feelings SOMEONE HELP HIM.

anyway so NEEDLESS TO SAY, Kacchan full on mourning in between sobs because he wanted to keep being rivals with Izuku cut me to my core. I cried too, goddammit. because in Katsuki’s mind it’s like. he wasted a dozen years of potential friendship by being a giant asshole. and they were only able to start getting things back on track less than a year ago. and that was probably the best year of both of their lives. and that rivalry meant so much to both of them. pursuing their dreams together as equals. and he wanted it to continue!! he missed out on so much, and it was his own damn fault, and now it’s all being taken away again maybe!!

and I think it’s especially devastating to Katsuki because he was trying so hard to make up for how he treated Izuku, and then this comes along and now he’s worried it was all for nothing. he’s scared that Izuku will maybe have to quit being a hero. (we know that won’t happen, obviously, but Katsuki is living this and not just reading it. he’s never met narrator!Deku and doesn’t have the benefit of all that foreshadowing and stuff.) but even more than that, I think he’s scared that it will undo all of their progress toward mending their relationship. not because Katsuki thinks any less of Izuku now, quirk or no quirk; but because of how Izuku might feel about being quirkless again, and because of the memories it might bring flooding back to the surface. I don’t think Katsuki fully believes that Izuku has forgiven him. so that’s a major fear potentially rearing its ugly head once more now.

and of course, he’s also just sad and upset on Izuku’s behalf, because he knows Izuku is sad about it too, even if he’ll never show it and will just downplay it because of his selfless nature. it’s a major loss, and one deserving of tears being shed, even if Izuku won’t shed any of his.

so yeah. it’s a lot. in Katsuki’s mind it’s the potential loss of a partner (if Izuku quits heroics), and a friend (if Izuku does cool toward Katsuki as a result of being quirkless again), and a dream (of them reaching the highest heights together), and his friend’s dream. so it makes perfect sense that all of that would overwhelm him. all of this is stuff that’s broken him down on past occasions as well.

so anyway it’s going be very cathartic when all those fears prove to be unfounded (because they better be unfounded lol). but in the meantime it’s a very moving reminder of how much he really does care and how far the both of them have come.

also Horikoshi really couldn’t resist giving Nobu one last chance to destroy everyone when this scene rolls up in the anime. that’s so reckless of him. there will be no survivors.

All Might telling both of them they’d become the greatest heroes was also the perfect chef’s kiss moment on top of everything else. we already knew it, of course. but it was good to hear him say it. and they needed him to say it. they needed and deserved to hear it.

and I really love that the qualities he specifically praised them for were the same things that each of them had struggled with the most in their respective journeys. he tells Izuku, who had such a difficult time learning how to tell the world “I am here!!”, that he inspires everyone and has become everyone’s hero. and he reminds Katsuki, who struggled with learning how to save people, and has especially struggled with his guilt over what happened to All Might at Kamino, that he saved All Might’s life and is the reason he’s able to still be there with them. both of them just really needed to hear that acknowledgement and encouragement, and it was such a powerful passing of the torch moment. All Might gets so much shit from the fandom, but he really is a phenomenal mentor when he’s in the zone, and I’ll die on that hill.

also a nice touch keeping the focus of those panels on the two boys and their reactions. even though I would have liked to see All Might’s face when he thanked them at the end, it definitely felt deliberate. this is their moment. their soft little tearful smiles afterwards punted my heart off a cliff and then picked it up and held it gently.

lastly, let it be known that I’m still convinced Katsuki has OFA (All Might vestige explanation when??), and it’s not lost on me that that would be a mighty convenient way for Izuku to potentially still go on a-quirkin’ in the end, if that’s how Horikoshi wants to play it. I'm just saying.

also before I forget, just a quick shoutout to Horikoshi for FINALLY showing all three members of the Bakufam in a scene together in which they finally managed to not be completely dysfunctional lol. my deepest darkest BnHA secret is that Mitsuki is secretly super high up on my list of favorite characters. and she was great in this chapter, and I love how she was just “WHAT THE FUCK” aghast at Katsuki using his main character powers to continuously ignore his injuries. and then she and Masaru kind of silently agreeing to step outside the room and let the boys and All Might have their moment. while still secretly listening in. because you know they were. good for them.

lastly for reals, I just want you all to remember that as great as this chapter was, the one thing that it was STILL missing which we have STILL not gotten is a HUG. we demand HUGS. I’m not leaving this manga till I get a bkdk hug goddammit. I will stay here all night if I have to.

[heph]

TLDR: Got any drawing exercises to recommend?

I’m in loooove with the way you use lines, shapes and colors/shading to show form in your art. The way you draw bodies shows a lot of understanding of the shapes that go into them, and that’s something I often personally struggle with. I’m familiar with the shapes of a face, but when it comes to connecting them to the shapes of the body and so on, I get frustrated that it’s jumbled instead of cohesive.

I was wondering, when you’re looking to practice, whether that’s anatomy, line-making, still life shapes or whatever, do you have any exercises you’ve done and would be willing to share? I’ve been trying to crawl out of the no-art-depression-hole for a bit and want to start with things that don’t take much willpower but help me improve

I might be the worst person to ask this! My relationship with art is not typical and I do not practice mindfully! (I just draw whatever I want and that's my practice, y'know?

Anyways, here's my progress of how I learnt to draw :3

Step 1 is proportions - breaking up the human body into manageable blocks and pieces. And step 2 is learning the muscles that build up the body, and from there you can simplify as needed... Or do that thing anime art kids do and skip directly to the simplified bit! (You probably shouldn't do that but if it's a hobby who cares!)

For specific tutorials, I find that proko is probably the best mix of entertaining/educational content you can find, but aside from that I watch a lot of speedpaints.

As a sort of get rich quick scheme, I think the absolute easiest way to get stupidly good at art is studying perspective - but you at least need a basic understanding of proportions and anatomy before you can draw someone in a funky perspective.

Everything in life is in perspective, and every piece of work you will ever make will have perspective in it. Perspective is sort of like an all-encompassing thing in our reality that you don't realise is there, and maybe even not realise is missing in your work (just that something feels... Wrong) AND LIKE NOBODY EVER TALKS ABOUT IT! WHAT THE FLIP!!!

I don't really have a specific source for learning perspective, because I've been on-and-off trying to wrap my head around it for a few years (I'm still awful at it but I'm getting there...!) here's a video!

I do think that drawing with progression in mind might help, but I think with art (as a hobby) the most important thing is probably love for a special guy and joy of creation. You have to love what you're drawing and the simple act of creating, or it just won't work out. If you're in a depression hole maybe just try creating for the sake of it, and don't give yourself too many expectations :)

[whyanne4]

Memories

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Verstappen! Reader

Part: 1/2

Category: angst

Summary: After months of sneaking around with your brothers biggest rival, Charles, you to end your relationship in order to protect both yourself and him from the medias praying eyes.

Right person, wrong situation. Loosely based on Conan Gray’s song: Memories. and Illicit affairs by Taylor Swift.

Masterlist

“Charles stop, we can't do this anymore.” You said as you felt the brunette slip his arms around your waist and kiss your neck gently. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine.

“Why not Y/N?” He whined into your neck.

“Charles I’m serious, stop. What if Max finds out?” You asked as you untangle yourself from his embrace.

“I don’t care.” Charles said defiantly, stepping back a bit.

​​"Well, I do. Max is my brother, and if he finds out about us, it'll ruin everything," you declared, stepping away and plopping down on the couch in his driver's room and in your mind all you could think of was all of the time you’d spent with Charles on that very same couch. How he’d kissed you and told you you were the most beautiful girl in the world.

You had met Charles through Max, your older brother and fellow F1 driver. The two of them were fierce rivals on the track. And you knew that if Max ever found out about your secret relationship with Charles, it would not only strain their relationship but also create chaos in the F1 media.

Last season, when you started attending more races and spending time with Max's team, you and Charles had found yourselves drawn to each other. It was effortless, like two pieces of a puzzle fitting perfectly together. You had tried to resist the temptation, knowing the potential consequences, but love has a way of breaking down walls.

The months that followed were filled with stolen glances, secret rendezvous, and stolen kisses. Every moment with Charles felt like a dream, and you knew that what you shared was special and rare. Everything was perfect. He was perfect, he still is but the fear of Max's reaction and the media scrutiny always lurked in the back of your mind. 

You both had agreed to keep your relationship a secret, knowing that the repercussions of being discovered would be severe. But as time passed, it became harder to hide your feelings for each other. The thrill of the forbidden love mixed with the danger of being caught was intoxicating, but you knew it couldn't go on forever.

You know that it would be terrible for Charless image if the media found out. You were 4 years younger than him and you know that the people on twitter would be having a field day if your relationship ever got out.

So you never told anyone. Not Max, not your friends, nobody. Your relationship was a well kept secret. Sneaking out to see him at his apartment in Monaco or in his drivers room. Secret vacations to foreign countries. Hotel rooms under fake names. Think of anything forbidden and the two of you’ve done it. During those months of sneaking around both you and Charles fell hard for one another.

Those months were probably the best months of your life. He was the perfect guy for you and you hope that you were the perfect girl for him. The love you shared was something out of a fairytale and you knew that it was one for the ages. The kind of love only a few lucky ones get to experience during their lifetime.

But the reality of your situation was inescapable. You knew getting involved with him was a bad idea so you’d broken everything off three months ago. You knew it was the right decision. Trying to maintain your secret relationship would only lead to heartbreak and trouble.

Yet, the heart wants what it wants, and when you saw each other again for the first time since the split at this weekend's Grand Prix, he pulled you into his driver’s room like so many times before. You tried to resist, but your connection was too strong to ignore. One thing led to another and suddenly you were being pushed against a wall with his lips on yours before you came to your senses. Which leds to where you are right now:

“Y/N please listen to me.” Charles begged as he followed you and sat down on the couch beside you. You looked into his gorgeous emerald green eyes like you had a million times before.

“Charles, please don’t.” You tried with him but he wouldn’t let you finish.

“No! I don’t want to stop loving you. You are the one for me and I don’t want to spend my life with anyone else.” He confessed wholeheartedly. You felt the tears start to form in your eyes.

"Charles, please, we can't keep doing this," you said, tears forming in your eyes. "I love you, but we're only hurting ourselves by continuing like this. You knew getting into this that it wouldn’t last. However much I want to, we can never be.” You reasoned with him.

“I don’t care. Y/N you are the love of my life. We can make it work. We don’t have to tell anyone if that's what you want. Or we can tell everyone. Whatever you want.” He pleaded with you. “Or if you don’t want that I can quit F1 and we can run away together. We can get a secret house together in the countryside of France and start a family together or something, anything. I would give you everything I have in a heartbeat. Please just don’t give up on this Y/N. Don’t give up on us.” He started crying quietly and so did you. 

“Charles, you know that wouldn’t work. Our families would find out eventually and so would the media. You will be bashed for dating me and your relationship with Max will be ruined.” You pleaded with him.

“I don't care. Y/N, you are the love of my life. We can make it work. We don't have to tell anyone if that's what you want. We can keep it a secret until the time is right,” he pleaded, holding her hand in his.

“Charles, it's not just about the secrecy. It's about our families, Max's feelings, and the media. It's about everything. As much as I love you, I can't put everyone else through that,” she said, her voice filled with sadness.

“So, you think what we had was nothing?” he was rightfully upset, but you didn’t know what else to tell him, he clearly wouldn’t go down without a fight.

“Please, Charles. This is hard enough as it is. Don’t make it harder than it already is okay. I know that one day you’ll find an amazing girl who will steal your heart and whom you will love 10 times more than me.” You put your hand on his cheek and felt his tears hit your thumb.

“That’s not possible, baby. I don’t want anyone else. We can make it work, please, you’re the one for me. I know it. I’ll never love anyone as much as I love you.” Charles pleaded.

“I love you too, Charles, so much.” You confessed to him. Even if you knew it wouldn’t help the situation at all. You felt the need to let him know that the feelings were not one sided. You loved this man with all your heart and if the circumstances were different, if you his rivals younger sister and if he wasn’t an F1 driver with the whole world watching his every move: You would probably get married, have a couple of kids and then grow old together. You would have the whole white picket-fence dream. But instead you were trapped in this situation and all you could do was try to let him go even if it was hard. 

“See, you love me too. Y/N, I promise that things will work out.” He took your hand in his and caressed your palm gently with his thumb. His touch felt so familiar and you just wanted to let all your walls down and let him love you, let yourself love him. But you knew you couldn’t.

“Charles, as much as I want that, it’s just make-believe. It will never work out the way we want to and everyone will be hurt in the end, honey.” You felt the nickname slip from your lips before you could stop it. It was what you called him all throughout your secret rendezvous and the simple word held so much meaning for both of you.

“I know that, baby. I just don’t want to let you go. You’re my favorite person in the whole world. I don’t know how I will ever move on from you.”  He seemed to finally give in and as much as it broke your heart you felt relief that he understood and didn’t argue more with you.

“I know it’s hard, honey. Which is why we can’t keep going back to each other from now on, okay? We can’t find an end to something that we keep beginning over and over again. From now on, I can’t be your friend or your lover, Charles. As much as it kills me inside I can’t hold you back from falling in love with somebody else.” You knew your words were harsh but you really needed to put an end to this here and now.

“I understand.” He put both of his hands on your cheeks and met your gaze. Both of your eyes were red from crying and held so many emotions and so much love for one another. “You’ll always be my person, no matter what happens or who I meet. If you ever change your mind I’ll be there for you with open arms no matter what. You’ll always have a piece of my heart Y/N. Please take care of it.”

“I will, I promise.” You vowed to him, your voice cracking as you tried to speak through your tears. “If things were different..” You tried to explain.

“Shh… Don’t worry about it, baby. You don’t have to explain.” He cut you off. “I’m not mad at you, I could never be mad at you.” 

Silence followed as both of you gazed into each other's eyes, trying to savor your last moments together as a couple before all you had left were the memories of better times.

“Can I kiss you one last time?” He asked quietly as if he was afraid of shattering the moment.

“Yes.” Was all you could say before his lips met yours in one final, heart shattering kiss. Your tears mixed as they ran down both of your cheeks. His hands were still on your cheeks and you felt him pushing your face closer to his. You pulled away for air and he did the same. 

“I’ll always love you, Charles.” You finally broke the silence.

“I’ll always love you too.” He said and you felt his soft hands leave your tear stained cheeks for the last time before he kissed your forehead and let go of you. You exited his driver’s room, heartbroken with only the memories of him left.

[2knightt]

5 things dallas winston hated about you.

—even when you were on his last goddamn nerve, you were still everything to him. is he still everything to you? after all he’s put you through?

-> in no way is this me changing my style nor should this be taken seriously…i’m just bored. and sad. and bored. and i miss my boyfriend. posted on queue!! i’m probably either studying, working on asks + event, or sleeping. either one.

(I.your snarky remarks.)

“did nobody ever teach you how to properly play uno of all games?”

you asked, a chuckle in your voice as you held your one card in hand. dallas glared at you from across your table, holding 12 cards. this was the 5th game you two played. he was never one to accept defeat easily.

“this game is just fuckin’ stupid. n’ you’re a dirty lil’ cheater.” he grumbled, staring down at his all red cards, eyes shifting back to the green 3 that you had placed down. dallas wanted to say more not-so-nice words, but knowing you fully, you’d say something even worse back. he hated that about you. you always said that it was apart of your charm, he always disagreed.

“why would i ever need to cheat when you can’t seem to count?” you snapped back, brows furrowed. you referenced the fact that dallas tried to pick up only 4 when he had to pick up 6, thinking he was slick.

dallas just huffed, picking up another card from the pile before mumbling a small, ‘go.’ there was a tug at the corners of your mouth, causing you to grin a little too hard as you placed down the winning card. for the 5th time in a row. dallas threw his cards down, clicking his tongue in annoyance. he leaned back into the chair, his head turned away from you as his arms hung off the chair.

“stop bein’ a baby and help me clean this up.”

“no. it’s your house.”

“and you’re the one who’s bumming around in it. clean up with me before i let you walk those streets. again.”

(II.how important your looks were to you.)

you stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, fingers running through your hair as you starred at yourself in the window of a convenience store.

“are you serious, y/n?” he asked, pockets in hand. he stopped walking when you did. he said it was so nobody hit on you. in reality, he liked it better when he had his eyes on you 24/7. he likes knowing you were safe. even for a second.

“yes, dallas. i am.” you replied with an eye roll. you grabbed your pink lip gloss, re-applying it for the 4th time today. sure, you were willing to admit it slowed you down—your focus on your looks. but were you gonna change? no! if someone doesn’t like it, who cares?

once you were done, you continued walking, leaving dallas to rush to catch up. he walked beside you after speed walking behind you for a few seconds. your lips shined under the hot tulsa sun, eyes glowing along with them. dally couldn’t help but wrap an arm around your waist.

he grew more and more aware of the men around. he held you closer, even when they paid no mind to neither you or him. he felt almost threatened for a moment.

“are you even listening?”

you chimed in, breaking his train of thought. dallas nodded, head empty. he didn’t hear a single thing you said. was he going to admit it? no. he didn’t want these other guys to know about how terrible of a boyfriend he was.

you just hummed, walking to your house in silence. any insults, compliments, comments, or cries would fall to deaf ears as of now.

(III.how you were blindly loyal.)

“i cannot believe you right now.”

“i jus’ said she was pretty. god forbid.”

he muttered as he entered your car, sitting in the passenger seat. dallas knew it’d be a terrible idea to try and make you jealous. boundaries, you’d shout. boundaries!

“i’ve told you how many times on how uncomfortable that makes me.”

“m’sorry, doll. i…i know. it was the alcohol.”

dallas lied right through his teeth. in all honesty—he’d been hoping it’d make you want to show him off. he was stupid for ever thinking you’d so something like that.

your silence scared him. you usually would’ve spat something back at him without a single thought. a sigh left your lips as you started the car, finally speaking up.

“i know.”

you muttered quietly. goddamn, maybe loyalty was gonna be the death of you. he didn’t mind much, though. at least you knew where home was. with him…right? right, y/n? he wanted to ask over and over again. dallas wanted the reassurance. he needed the support.

for what? he didn’t know. he just wanted to make sure you still felt the same way he does.

(IV.the way you fought.)

“she got you good, y/n.”

“oh, shut up, dal.”

you muttered, washing your bloodied and bruised hands under the faucet. you stood there, spacing out, letting the water run off your hands. dallas tapped you on your shoulder, snapping you out of it.

he handed you a clean shirt, a couple of bandaids in the other. you ushered him out of your bathroom, closing the door to put the clean shirt on. ‘she got you good.’ what does that even mean? was there seriously no, ‘are you okay?’ you wondered to yourself as you opened the door.

dallas sat you down on the toilet, brushing the fresh blood that slowly streamed down your cheeks with his thumb as he placed bandaids all over your face. he kissed every single one after doing so.

he wanted to make sure you still knew he likes you. that dallas winston liked you a whole lot.

“you’ll be alright, doll.” he comforted, patting your head. he thought back to your several other fights. you fought strategically and with honour. something he’d never do. but, recently, you’d been fighting just for the fun of it.

when you fought before—he felt a little angry. he didn’t like seeing you fight, but he didn’t like knowing you were good at it. knowing you were at the same level as he was at something he took pride in hurt him. dallas was frustrated at you and himself.

maybe his bad habits were rubbing off on you. a way to remember him, as dallas thought about it. he said he’d talk to you later about it. he never did.

(V.how quickly you were able to move on. faster than he ever could.)

you realized you needed better. dallas didn’t treat you like he used to. why? you didn’t know. you tried to be the best girlfriend he’d ever have, so why did he have to ruin it? was it your fault?

you kept on asking yourself questions like this when the reality of it all sunk in. that same day, you left dallas winston.

he felt his world crumble before him. this whole, self-sabotaging thing that pony warned him about was catching up to him. dallas felt hatred for you. well, at least he wanted to. he wanted to feel angry. hatred for you.

he couldn’t no matter how hard he tried. even when he watched you move onto another guy. from afar, he’d see you giggle and flirt with him. like how you used to do with him.

even when you’re with someone else, you’re still everything ti dallas. would you ever forgive him if he said sorry? would sorry even fix the way he treated you?

[thatsdemko]

strange realities - c.sainz

part 3: pining series

pinning series masterlist

warnings: anxious thoughts

a/n: hiiii thank you so so so much for all the love on the past two parts!!! xx we’ve got 6 more parts together of this ride 😁😁

yourusername

liked by yukitsunoda0511, scuderiaferrari, f1, and 4,579 others.

yourusername: Baku dump fting some nonferrari fan favorites 😁

tagged: carlossainz55, yukitsunoda0511, lewishamilton, & oscarpiastri.

456 comments

babyyuki: that one fan was right she always does include Carlos in her dumps…

lewishamilton: ☺️❤️

Charles_leclerc: no pictures of me?

yourusername: … oops😬 won’t happen again!

russellgeorge: I told y’all! she always adds Carlos!

ln4455: yeah maybe because she’s Ferrari’s intern media personnel?? I don’t think it’s that deep 🙄

Ferrariredflag: people making something out of nothing! thank u for the content once again 🫡

—

EARLIER IN BAKU

the sun was beaming hot, and the winds were just as cruel as yesterday. stepping out of the team car, you thank the driver before closing the door simultaneously as the one that arrives after yours. Carlos sainz.

“hola, amor.” his smile is awfully bright for the early morning as he approaches you, hand gesturing for you to lead the way to check into the paddock.

“you’re in a good mood this morning, ready for the race?” you ask scanning in your ID. you step into the paddock, Carlos following behind you; the fans begin to approach and your job starts.

you walk beside him, moving out of the way when fans want pictures, or when reporters shove their microphones into his face. he just smiles, answers the questions, and is careful not to step on your feet.

“I swear I can’t go anywhere.” he grumbles, fake smile plastered on his face as he shoots the camera for a thumbs up and a little wave. you attempted to move away in time, but you got trampled in the mix of fans, and your body was pushed back beside his.

“you’re too famous for me now.” you wink, elbow nudging his arm, he caught the words you said despite the fans yelling in his ears. it made him chuckle, “so now I’m out of your league?” he asks, turning to you.

“you were never in my league to begin with, sainz.”

—

the newspaper falls into your lap, it was hot off the press and pages were spilling onto the ground when you notice yourself and Carlos on the front cover, “whatever you have with sainz, it must stay professional.” is all you heard before they left. leaving you alone with the words and the pictures to take in.

not even an hour had gone by from the arrival. the white dress you had arrived in was stored in a cubby in the Ferrari motorhome, one you were now too afraid to step into. the mess was probably just unfolding in there, or nobody even dared to read the gossip. but whoever came in, clearly had enough time before the race to care. enough time to make taking pictures for the team harder than it needed to be.

“you ready for the race?” you ask snapping a few pictures of Charles before he got in the car. a hopeful smile forms on his lips as he nods to your question, “no pictures of Carlos?” he points to his teammate, who’s listening to last minute preparations from his team. he catches your eyes on him, those big brown eyes grow intense on yours, he sends a wink in your direction that instantly makes you turn away, despite the butterflies and temptations to turn back.

it can’t be like this. everyone’s watching, cameramen are everywhere. they could catch this, is all you could think. any friendly intimate moment was now to be paired as one of you falling in love with the other. why did it change so fast? two minutes ago you were his work friend, now you were someone the media claimed to be an interest in his eyes.

“just wave to the fans for me, Charles. please.”

—

“p3! oh congrats!” you wrap your arms around Charles, pulling him into your body for a quick hug before he finds Arthur and Lorenzo, sporting identical smiles to his.

it’s not a second later when carlos pulls in from p5. he’s not pleased, but he’s not overall in a bad mood. he climbs out the car, and pats and helmet taps are used in his congratulations. instead of the typical hug you always give both of the drivers, you try to stick with a high five, but he ignores it and embraces you like normal. like there wasn’t an article looming over your head.

“you did great, Carlos. we’ll get ‘em in miami.” you pull from the hug, looking into those sad big brown eyes, the only thing you can see under his helmet, “you did what you could, now vamos! we have media.”

he nods in agreement to your words, and finds Fred who gives the driver his words of encouragement, before he switches out from his helmet to a cap and trails behind you to the media pen.

the attention of cameramen and interviewers shift from the drivers that are currently standing around when you two walk in. he tries to stand out of the way, practicing his fake smile that only grows a real one out of you before he steps up to speak.

“Carlos, congrats on p5, what are your plans for Miami?”

“to have fun. maybe catch some rays in the sun?” he looks over at you in approval, but you only shake your head knowing Fred wouldn’t allow that much free time for him. there was always something the drivers could be doing instead of relaxing.

“what about you, y/n? will you be there with Carlos?” the camera shifts, microphone moves into your face, and suddenly you can’t breathe. caught so off guard, it’s like all of the air has escaped your lungs. your mouth is full of saliva as you try to find words, but nothing comes.

Carlos notices you had frozen. the cameraman’s smile widens, he caught you like a deer in headlights, and Carlos wasn’t having it. he didn’t like that cheeky grin, it made him step in, “she’ll be with the team, yes. she follows me everywhere, so there’s a good chance she’ll be with me.”

his hand gently presses against your lower back. it’s cool against your shirt, not having noticed your whole body had begun to heat up under the pressure of the camera. you can’t believe he does this all of the time, you see why it’s such a pain now having frozen in time.

you step aside further, allowing him to finish while you try to find your breath, or any air in your lungs. life seemed to have become too real in time, like the article wasn’t just a dream and people really were believing something was there.

“you ready to go, amor?”

“please, let’s get out of here.”

tags: @arian-directioner @alilstressyandlotdepressy @ak0ma @ruebennett89 @mochimommy2002 @flyingmushroomss @icarus-nex @solo-pitstop-vibes @xjval @chimchimjiminie16 @bookophiliac @tifosirussell @celestialpierre @moonvr @laneyspaulding19 @myescapefromthislife @formula1mount @moonyschocolate13 @bbubbllejisoo @summerslike11 @imperfectophelia @bhiees @cattt-tharsis @willowpains @chelsey01 @rqlstefanny @shinrjj @aldene-styles @roseamongthorns13 @imsorare @lucyysthings @aldene-styles @keonminshea @jspitwall

[artist-issues]

Reminder that making Loki and Sylvie romantic was not a huge mistake. It was very smart and very in-character.

Not because they love themselves. That’s just a very clever writer’s play on the Loki-Trope-words.

Because she’s the most not-him person that there is. He wants to be the center of attention. She wants to live a quiet life left alone. He wants to take thrones and rule. She wants to topple thrones and rulers. He wants to tyrannize and enslave. She wants to set whole realities free. He sets traps to defeat his most hated foes. She just runs up and stabs them. He never shuts up. She’s stoic and quiet.

To people who believe it’s weird or gross because “they share DNA” or “they’re siblings…” Yeah. They share the same DNA, clearly—just like the Alligator Loki! 🙄 And they share parents, clearly—oh, except they don’t, because Loki’s parents were the kind of people to hide his true origins from him, and Sylvie’s parents were as different from that as you can get. They don’t share DNA, they aren’t the same gender, they don’t share memories or a similar history, and they don’t even share a name. They’re not like the same person, and they’re not like siblings.

The places where they’re similar? Like Sylvie’s chip on her shoulder against those who’ve wronged her? They’re all the places Loki has grown out of, or is in the process of growing out of when he meets Sylvie—and she’s been hellbent on avenging herself against those who’ve wronged her for her whole life.

He’s in love with her because of the—say it with me—“Idea of Potential” that she represents.

It’s just like how Ariel is in love with Eric, even before she gets to know him, because all she needs to know is that his character traits match up with everything she’s always hoped humans could be like. All Loki needs to know about Sylvie is that her character traits match up with everything he’s always wished he could be:

Confident instead of pretending to be confident; heroic instead of pretending to be heroic; secure in who he is regardless of what people think of him; able to focus on something bigger than himself; etc. Loki’s never been able to be those things and even convinced himself he’s proud of pretending—but Sylvie genuinely is all those things.

And Sylvie? Since she was stolen from her home and family she has made no connections, had nobody care about her, and focused only on her mission. If she ever had dreams outside of that, it probably revolved around the idea of freedom. Then in comes this guy who not only expresses care for her, but is the type of guy who doesn’t let anybody tell him what he is or what to do—he can relate to her feelings of hurt, and eventually, tries to help her grow beyond them, too.

They both represent something that the other person has always wanted to do or be, and they both challenge each other, and they both have this big existential hole in their hearts of “nobody wants me or likes me” to relate to each other with.

How is this a mistake? It’s literally the smartest way they’ve ever had Loki make a connection with someone outside his adopted family. (Mobius is cool and all but he’s a Thor-stand-in for this Loki, who’s been ripped out of Thor’s timeline.)

I’m going to stop beating the dead horse, but basically, if you think Loki and Sylvie as a romantic couple is weird, try and look at it the way it actually is, instead of superimposing “female love interest bad” or catchy Internet memes like “Loki Show Approves Incest” over everything 🙄

[nnight-dances]

SOME GUY!

pairings: mark lee x f!reader genre: fluff, angst, heated moments tropes: close friends to lovers?, mark avoids u because he's stupid, taeyong as your perfect ex who's still in love w u, u kiss mark's face to shut him up. warnings: mint ice-cream slander, mark is some guy, skinship, college frat party, not proofread.

author's note: haha guess who's in their mark phase hhhhh... sorry he's just such an interesting guy i could write him all day long. either way!!! more mark appreciation, less depression <3

—

at the end of the day, mark really was just some guy.

that’s what he thought to himself everytime he sat down to really consider the reality of all things. he doesn’t mean to get all self-deprecating and emo like that, but it was just a neutral truth thing that kinda hurts the first time you realize it but then it’s just the obvious thing in your daily life. but of course, if he ever did tell someone that he always felt like some guy among a bunch of cool guys, regardless of their gender, he would have to sit through one of those ultimately useless and pitiful speeches about how talented he really was.

— “you know what? you’re right!”

mark’s thoughts zap off their route when he hears you agree with his remark a few seconds ago. honestly, he hadn’t been completely sure if you’d heard him because of the lack of reaction you’d given him. but when you suddenly chuckle and agree with him, mark chokes over the stream of dr pepper in his throat.

he coughs desperately, “wait, what?”

your smile widens, “you’re just some guy. that’s like the perfect description of you.”

under normal circumstances, mark thinnks he would’ve been offended by how certain you sound. but the way you say it? it’s not like you’re trying to be mean or condescending… more like you’re just saying the truth. the neutral truth thing…

“i can’t believe you,” mark mutters, face splitting in a laugh, “i can’t believe you’re agreeing with me!” you look slightly confused but continue, “don’t tell me you’re hurt? you were the one who brought it up!”

mark shakes his head, controlling his laughter, still slightly losing his mind. “you’re really something, bro. i just didn’t expect you to actually be honest.” he laughs again, taking a sip of his drink again, becoming aware that he was being too loud for a bookstore. thankfully though, on a brief glance around, nobody seemed to care.

you fiddle with the zipper of your pencil pouch in thought. then, a shrug as you look back at mark, “hmm, isn’t that funny. i’m some thing, you’re some guy.”

mark falls into another fit of laughter before he knows it, disbelieving more than anything over your badly disguised shamelessness. you hold in a laugh as you land the last punch to his gut, “the perfect pair, isn’t it?” — the punch that sends him right into an oblivion of a world where nothing except you makes sense.

(ok perhaps, mark was being a tad dramatic. you know what he means though: he’s smitten.)

—

if someone were to kidnap you for the purposes of interrogating your honesty behind your claims that you thought mark was some guy, you’d probably get shot in the head instead, because there was no way you were letting anyone in on the information that you did not actually consider mark some guy.

maybe, a little, yes, but at this point, the phrase ‘some guy’ needs some more definiton. some guy as in boring and bland and dry and overdone? absolutely not. if that was what mark was, you wouldn’t have been committing every last one of your wednesday evenings, aka the only free evenings you ever get, to sitting in a crowded bookstore to pretend to do homework with him. you never did homework with mark around.

mark was the kind of some guy that was just being himself. yeah, that’s all you got. mark was mark. good explanation.

“bro? y/n, you good?”

you blink, finding mark swaying in front of you. you were currently sat on a bench near the building where your next class was.

“uhh, sorry,” you take off your headphones to look up at mark, “what are you doing on this part of campus?”

mark shrugs with a playful smile, “why can’t i be here?”

“because you literally don’t take any classes in the econ department?”

he shrugs again, “what if i’ve changed my ways? we’re still young and free, y/n, think a little outside the box, won’t you?”

“you’re taking econ? how- how did you-?”

“oh, look at that,” mark cuts you off, holding up his phone in front of your face. the time reads 11:05 am. “it’s time for our class. let’s go.” you’re busy processing his words (our class???) when he pulls you by the arm and toward the hall behind you.

and that’s the story of how you go from knowing absolutely nobody in your econ class, to sitting next mark in the extremely damp and cramped chairs of your econ class which means your arm is constantly touching his which you, for some reason, don’t hate. probably because the chilly fall wind coming through the window next to mark always makes you glad for the warmth.

mark, on the other hand, smiles a small smile whenever you shuffle closer because even though, the guy (doyoung is his name?) in front of him is always asking him to close the window, he would rather not.

—

“you’re kidding? ice-cream? in this fucking weather?” you question mark, coughing a fake cough to make your point.

“what are you, a coward?”

when you give mark an unimpressed look, he breaks a laugh, grabbing hold of you by your elbow. cheekily, he says, “please. for me?”

you frown, feeling your resolve crumble under his stupid gaze, “i hate you,” you say but let mark pull you after him into the tiny corner shop.

the two of you huddle over the menu of the ice-cream shop, and you exclaim quietly, “oh! i’ve been wanting to try their raspberry choco flavor for a while!” mark looks between you and menu, “ah, really? that sounds kinda good.”

then, he shifts to look at the girl behind the counter, “uhh, we’ll have one mint chocolate and one raspberry choco, please.” you gasp at mark’s choice, “m-mint chocolate?! mark. i think i might break up with you.”

mark is too busy reddening at your joke that hits too close to home to notice the worker chuckling at you. she processes your orders and mark has time to recover.

when he looks back at you, you’re still grimacing. “i didn’t think you could get any worse.”

“are you sure you should be saying that to someone who’s treating you to icecream?”

“huh?” your eyes widen and then you smile, “ahhh, i see. i wasn’t aware you were bribing me into have a favorable opinion of you.” before mark can retort though, you continue with a smirk, “i’m not complaining though.”

your smirk both flusters and scares mark because it’s evidence you’re upto no good in your head but before he can air his suspicion, you’re reaching out for the two cones of icecream that the girl is handing out.

“you guys are really cute together,” the worker remarks shyly, giving you a thumbs up of approval.

mark chokes on the first bite of his mint choco icecream. you look at mark and he expects you to shut down the worker swiftly, but then you reach for his hand, pulling him closer with a bashful smile and say, “thanks, that’s really sweet of you.”

“uh-?” you cut mark’s question off by pulling him out of the store after you.

when you’re outside, you burst into laughter at the perplexed look on mark’s look, looking absolutely adorable next to his already melting green blob of an abomination.

—

the next morning, mark is still suffering through it, unable to come to terms with your actions yesterday. they were honestly not out of character for you. you were always one to do shit just because you knew it would get a reaction out of someone else. like, that time you didn’t tell mark he had spinach in his teeth the whole time he was speaking in econ and only told him at the end. yeah, sure, but surely that was different from you pretending that you and mark were together. right?

mark’s pulled out of his thoughts when his phone buzzes next to his pillow. he stirs to his side, opening his phone only to find a text from you.

y/n: fuck u

mark’s heart skips a beat, no matter the fact that you’re swearing at him the first thing in the morning.

mark: what did i do now…

y/n: it’s ur fault

mark: ???

y/n: i’m fuckin sick

“oh, fuck,” mark swears, sitting up with a frown, fingers quickly shooting a flurry of concerned texts back.

mark: oh shit really?

mark: im so sorry

mark: how bad is it?

y/n: it’s just a cold, dw not that bad

mark: what does that mean?

you, however, don’t bother to elaborate any more on your condition, going silent.

he groans, guilt settling in the slouch of his shoulder as he stares at his screen for a solid 10 minutes before giving up on your response. as he gets ready for the day, at the top of mark’s to do list is to visit your dorm room with medicine and snacks.

but by the time 3 pm rolls around, mark finds himself constantly distracted by classes and homeowork. he looks at the time and sighs. you hadn’t managed to get back to him. but considering how he hadn’t seen you in econ or lunch, your cold was more than ‘not bad’.

sitting outside the library to collect his thoughts, he spots chaewon, your roommate. the two of you had run into mark on a grocery shopping errand and mark had had a decent enough conversation to make him run up to chaewon.

“oh!” chaewon is surprised at first when mark blocks her way with a quick hey. “oh hey, mark!”

“um,” mark looks at the take-out box in her hands, “um, is that for y/n?”

“oh, yeah. did you hear? she woke up this morning with a fever.”

“a fever?”

“yeah, it was pretty high too. i had to force her to stay in bed or i think she would’ve just gone to class like the dumbass she is.”

mark frowns, “oh, no. has she eaten all day?”

chaewon hums in thought, “she told me she was fine for breakfast. i’m not sure if she had lunch though so i was just going to take some pizza and salad in case she’s been starving.”

mark’s frown deepens as she adds, “oh i better hurry though! i have to get back here in time for my dance practice.”

“ah…” he scratches his head, “uhh, if you’re busy, i wouldn’t mind dropping it off to y/n.”

chaewon raises an eyebrow, “wait, really? you’d do that?”

“um, yeah. it’s my fault she got sick anyway. i made her eat icecream last night.”

she laughs, “a little icecream wouldn’t have done that. but sure! it’d be a great help, if you did that. thanks, mark.”

mark hadn’t thought this through, he realizes when he reaches the door that reads y/n on the door, right next to chaewon. he takes a deep breath, clearing his throat, before knocking on the door. “y/n?” his voice breaks mid-sentence and he wants to hide in a hole somewhere, but you’re quick to throw your door open.

your hair is up in a bun which bobs in rhythm with your head, when you find mark outside your room, “mark? what the fuck are you doing here?”

“you weren’t responding to my texts,” he mumbles, and then holds up chaewon’s takeout box in one hand and in the other, the bag of medicine and snacks he’d packed. “i come bearing gifts though.”

you cough hoarsely into your elbow, pulling at the hem of your green hoodie as you consider mark in front of you. “you could’ve told me you were coming,” you sound… shy? mark thinks as he follows into your room after you gesture him to enter.

he looks at your bed and chuckles at the mess that is your bed. then, he smiles as he looks at the eccentric yet coherent collage of pictures and letters on your wall. “this is so you,” he comments and places the food and medicine on your table.

you pout, “a room that looks like all hell broke lose… is me? wow, thanks, mark.”

mark wants to refute your comment, he does, but then he gets distracted by how the way you say his name in your hoarse inside voice and he coughs a little. “i got you medicine though?” he sounds squeaky to his own ears.

you smile though at that, looking inside the bag he’s kept. “ahhh, ramen! i knew i could count on you, mark lee.”

mark almost wants to beg you to stop saying his name so much. but instead he shoots you a thumbs up, “how are you holding up?”

you nod in thought, still unpacking everything mark bought, “hmm, i’m alive. you should’ve seen me in the morning though i felt like something was trying to crawl out my skin.”

you laugh at the imagery, pausing when you catch the guilty look on mark. you already know he’s about to apologize when he opens his mouth. you hold up a finger threateningly, “i know i said that in the morning, but it’s not actually your fault. i always get sick like this every time fall rolls around.”

“no, for real though, i did force you to come eat icecream with me, didn’t i? i’m sorry.”

“ugh, mark, trust me, i wouldn’t have eaten the icecream if i really didn’t want to,” you say, too kindly for your usual snarkiness as if you can sense how genuine mark’s apology was, “for real, my body’s just weird like that.”

when mark remains silent for another minute, you groan, “i know! you can repay me. stay and we can watch a movie or something. all the sleeping’s making me feel gross. plus, i couldn’t eat all this food myself.”

and that’s how mark finds himself settled next to you on your bed, blanket covering half his body, watching gilmore girls (your fall preference of entertainment, it seems). the first half hour went by fine, with one of you commenting ocassionally at something the characters did, but then you shifted closer to mark with a cough.

he was shocked at first but then he wonders if the medicine you’d taken before were starting to take effect. (he’d questioned how wise it was for you to be taking them before watching something, but he also didn’t want to make your condition worse.)

“you good, y/n?” he mumbles under his breath when he feels your head come to rest against his shoulder. he sounds surprisingly calm for the turmoil that is bursting within his veins at the contact.

you hum in acknowledgement, sniffing a little, “yeah, just a little sleepy.”

“oh, you should probably rest then,” mark reaches for the spacebar to pause the episode but your cold hand pulls his finger away. except you don’t let go of his finger, instead seeming to crave warmth, you’re suddenly holding his hand, icy fingertips coming to rest against the back of his palm.

mark’s hearbeat is in his ears by now but he lets you hold his hand as you protest, “mm, don’t wanna sleep. just keep watching.”

you don’t sound promising but he doesn’t argue, letting you having the final say in this situation.

five minutes later though, you stir against mark’s side, arm now in his lap and… yeah, you’re falling asleep.

mark freezes at the realization when he sees your eyelashes fluttering shut. oh god. oh no… this wasn’t good for his well-being. or his obsession with you. or anything.

he clears his throat, hating himself, “um, y/n?”

you don’t respond except for a short grunt that indicates you don’t intend to wake up. he doesn’t have the heart to move you but also, this wasn’t right, was it?

there wasn’t anything wrong with it per se, except of course the fact that it did not help mark’s big fat ugly crush on you or the fact that he spent the whole day thinking about how you were sick and it was his fault.

you move slightly in your sleep, suddenly seeming to come to. your eyes open a little, “mark?” your voice is dangerously low.

“yeah?” mark can hear the nerves in his voice.

you’re pulling him now, without a warning, onto your bed. “you’re warm. stay.”

mark’s eyes widen when you turn to hug him around the waist.

fuck. fuck. fuck. FUCK. this was… THIS IS…. UTREJKLSGIURKEJU?????YGSAELRIAY

mark brain malfunctions for a good minute before he remembers how to think. first, he thinks he has to leave or you’ll hate him forever. but when he tries to budge, you groan an annoyed groan making him scared to leave..

??? what is one supposed to do in these circumstances?

he stills, deciding it was better if he let you doze off comfortably. he slowly places an arm around your shoulder, patting a reassuring back rub into your skin. you nuzzle closer into him, clueless of the way mark is short-circuiting.

before he knows it though, mark finds himself dozing off, chin pressed up against the bone of your shoulder. the sleep isn’t chaotic like his thoughts usually are, but it’s a peaceful sleep, the kind that you only get when you share a bed with someone.

—

ever since that eventful… nap, mark has found himself growing closer to you, in all senses of the phrase. you’d seemed to start trusting mark more, your bookstore evenings turning into whole days spent in each other’s company. sometimes you’d be at each other’s room, more often yours, but otherwise, you’d end up in some new corner of campus, giggling over half-completed essays and collectively complaining about econ.

you’d also grown closer… physically. something about spending a sick evening in someone’s arms, you’d like to say. whatever the reason was, one way or another, you’d find a way to be next to each other.

you’d made a habit of holding mark’s hand, especially on colder days when your fingers lost all feeling till you pressed them into the knuckles of mark’s warm ones. other times, mark’s hand would be on your shoulder or back, casually doodling into your skin, a lazy smile on his face while you dramatically narrate some event from your life.

mark could tell something was different, though he dared not investigate what it was, too afraid to mess up what he had right now.

but then, he does the stupid thing of asking you the question.

it’s on a late night hangout in your room when chaewon’s out for the weekend to visit home, and y’all are sprawled on your bed, exhausted from a movie marathon.

something about the dim lights and the way you lean against his shoulder, makes him speak. “do you like someone right now?”

for a good while, mark thinks he mustn’t have asked the question out loud because of how quiet you are. but then, “what about you?”

“not fair! i asked you first,” mark complains with a chuckle. you shrug, “not telling if you don’t.”

he rolls his eyes, “two can play this game, y’know. i’m not giving.”

“ugh, fine. i’ll tell you about my ex for now.”

mark’s ear perks up at the mention and he waits for you to continue.

“ah, this is so embarassing to talk about. but.. last semester i was with taeyong.”

“wait. lee taeyong?”

“mhm-hm. you know him? he was a good guy, but i don’t know, something felt off. we broke up right before new year’s eve so that was fun.”

mark falls silent as he recalls everything he can about lee taeyong. so far he has: perfect face and killer charm. oh yeah, wasn’t he a student athlete?

“you dated an athelete?” mark can’t help but ask.

“see! i know you’d make fun,” you whine, hiding your face in your hands.

“no- no, i’m not making fun. that’s insane. taeyong is, like, famous.”

you groan, “and you’re listing all the reasons i broke up with him.”

mark isn’t sure what he can do with this information so he releases a strained chuckle, suddenly ready to head back to his room. he can’t be too obvious though, so he waits a bit.

“what about you?” you ask him, poking his arm. “any embarassing boyfriends?”

mark laughs despite it all, “i wish. i was in a silly little relationship but it was so long ago that i hardly remember.” with that, he sits up, a little abruptly.

you frown as he clears his throat, “um, anyway, i should get back soon. i’ve got to sleep.”

“the fuck?” you question, “it’s like 11 pm?”

“well, yeah, i have an early morning tomorrow.”

“on a sunday?”

“yeah, uhm, i forgot to tell you about this new job i have. anyways, i should really sleep soon. i’ll see you later, yeah?”

and just like that, mark leaves your room, with you gaping at how fast he’d made his exit, not even bothering to make real excuses. new job? halfway through the semester? yeah, sure. you feel your mood dampening at mark’s sudden cold shoulder, wondering if you’d upset him. but no matter how many times you thought about it, you weren’t sure what had made him act like that.

mark, on the other hand, can’t get the conversation out of his head, even as he walks to the library at 8 am on a sunday, ready to finish all traces of homework in existence. it doesn’t matter though because sitting in the silence of the study room, his mind repeats your words.

he was a good guy, but i don’t know, something felt off.

boy, did mark feel stupid as shit. for everything? for thinking you were into him. somewhere along the way, your hands on his had him confused. for a minute there, he had stopped thinking about how he was actually just some guy. some guy who you chose to hang out with now and then, some guy who was your friend. mark was nowhere close to being taeyong, and even taeyong didn’t cut it for you. really, though, he couldn’t blame you. you really did deserve the best anyone could imagine.

a text from you interrupts his self-loathing spiralling.

y/n: heyoo!! u alive?

y/n: u left kinda abruptly last night. is everything ok?

mark clenches his fist as if to obliterate the hopeful smile that threatens his face. he thinks of how he might respond: sorry cant talk i’ve to make sure i’m not in love with u before i see u again or maybe: sorry i’m just trying not to cry in broad daylight bc i love u too much hjbykyvkvyf

“fuck! sorry!” a voice pulls mark back from his head. he looks up to see who’s broken into his study room… only to see lee taeyong standing there in confusion. of course this happens to mark.

“uhh, can i help you?” mark barely controls the snap that tries to escape him at the sight of taeyong.

“um, sorry,” taeyong looks down at his phone then back at mark, “i could’ve sworn i booked this room for the next hour…”

mark frowns, certain he’d booked this room for the next two hours. usually, he would’ve just told taeyong he’s booked it wrong, but instead he just says, “oh? i guess you can take this room then. i’ll go somewhere else.”

mark starts packing up but the other boy protests quickly, “no, no! it’s okay. i- um, i’d feel bad if you did that. what if… what if we shared? it’ll be nice to have someone else in the room, no?” taeyong smiles brightly at mark and the latter wants his eyes to stop working already.

call it the law of inertia, but something in mark doesn’t let him just leave the room, almost intrigued by how this might turn out. “alright, then.”

taeyong, as much as mark hates to admit it, is really nice. he hadn’t ever heard anything to refute that, but sitting silently in a room with someone really tells you all you need to know about someone. either way, the study sessions somehow seems to provide mark some sense of peace.

or so he thinks.

what he doesn’t expect is that two hours later, as the two of them are packing up to empty the room for the next occupant, for the next occupant to be… you. yes, of course, that’s gonna happen in this story.

for a moment, mark doesn’t find it particularly shocking to see you but when he notices the stiff look you share with taeyong, he realizes what’s happening.

you’d just entered the room with a knock when you’d noticed who was inside. your eyes travel between mark and taeyong, your mind unable to make sense of this.

your first thought is… is this why mark was weird last night? because he was close to taeyong and got offended by your remarks?

that would be the easy alternate, wouldn’t it? but even you can tell there’s a dryness in the way mark looks at the two of you, a look that unsettles you. of course, the sight of taeyong also unsettles you.

he speaks up before you, “y/n?”

you awkwardly wave at the two of them, “hi mark. hey taeyong. didn’t expect to see the two of you together.”

you look at mark pointedly but he’s not giving you much to work with. he just laughs as taeyong rushes to explain, “ah, i made a mistake in booking this room at the same time as mark, and he was kind enough to let me stay.”

marks want to leave right now. because of the way taeyong’s eyes are sparkling at the sight of you, hands nervously fidgeting. but he decides against it, when he sees you uneasy you seem, tight grip around the strap of your tote bag.

“what are you doing here?” mark asks and a part of you is relieved that he’s talking to you.

“um, homework. i didn’t really know what else to do ever since my friend started ghosting me.”

mark flinches at your attack, but persists in looking as indifferent as he can. “sorry about that, i got caught up finishing this essay.”

taeyong awkwardly coughs, “um, i should probably leave now. i have practice to get to.”

mark is quick to follow after taeyong, scared to death of being alone in a room with you. he doesn’t know what to do with himself around you anymore. “uhh, yeah, i’ll leave you to do homework, then! see ya!”

and just like that, it’s a repeat of last night. mark’s back receding except this time you watch him wave at you with a half-hearted smile as he leaves. you barely manage to close the door behind you before you feel yourself tear up.

this is stupid, you realize through tears, to be crying over something like this. but something like this? it meant a lot to you. you sit where mark sat minutes ago, the same disappointment in your eyes and a similar weight in your heart.

mark is not having the time of his life either though, as he walks out the library with taeyong, who starts asking questions about you as soon as he can.

“so you’re friends with y/n?” mark simply nods at that, having seen this coming.

“that’s cool. she’s really cool, isn’t she?”

“yeah, i suppose. she’s fun.”

“how close are you to her?”

mark laughs dismissively, “haha, i feel like i’ve done something wrong. calm down, bro.”

taeyong flushes at that, rubbing his neck, “oh, sorry. i didn’t mean to interrogate you like that. it’s just… you probably know about us, right?”

that words leaves taeyong’s mouth and buries itself deep into mark’s heart. us.

taeyong continues, “it’s just that i really miss her, man. i don’t think i’ve had as much fun with anyone else since her. or maybe, it’s just because i’m always comparing everyone to her.”

mark really doesn’t know what to say, feeling himself stuck in a similar situation. “hmm, it’ll get better.”

“i hope you’re right,” taeyong says, cheerfully patting mark’s back, “well, i have to go that way. see you around, bro. take care of her.”

take care of her? marks smiles remorsefully as he watches taeyong leave. and he wonders what was going on in your mind when you broke up with someone that perfect? what went on in your head when you befriended mark, just some guy?

—

on saturday, it’s been a whole week since you’ve talked to mark. you’d actually stayed up all night yesterday hoping he’d have a change of heart on friday night, and he’d text you with a can we talk? or come knocking on your door with an apologetic smile with some silly excuse. and you would’ve accepted it all because you were not familar with a mark-less existence. the past week was.. not good for you.

but on saturday night, you decide it’s enough. or rather, chaewon decides it’s enough when she sees you ready to spend the night in bed.

“y/n, i’m sorry but i can’t respect your stupid decisions anymore,” she bursts into the room with a concerned look.

you frown, “ouch? you just called me stupid.”

“because that’s what you’re being. i don’t care if you’re going through it, i’m not letting you woe over some guy on the weekend.”

you grimace at the phrase some guy, remembering your conversation with mark. “hey! i’m talking to you, miss,” chaewon’s hands pull off your bed. “let’s go out tonight. i don’t care.”

“chaewon…” you complain, voice low.

“y/n, my dear friend, stop giving up on life because mark lee is ghosting you. if i know anything about the two of you, y’all will be back to cuddling each other next week.”

you want to say you’re afraid that’s not gonna happen but chaewon is moving too fast for you. she throws a dress at you and then, a coat. “wear those and come to yunjin’s room. we’re pre-gaming.”

an hour later, you’re not feeling so bad after all. you’d forgotten how fun getting wasted really was. you giggle hopelessly when yunjin cracks another “slayyy~” at chaewon’s empty glass. as sakura pours her another shot, you nudge her with your own empty cup.

your roommate frowns a little, “you sure you’re not going too fast?”

you roll your eyes, “chaewon! you’re the one who wanted to slut me out tonight. how am i gonna do that sober?” that makes everyone double up in laughter and you down the vodka with a triumphant sigh.

another hour later, you’re really feeling yourself. the pre-game finally ended with all of you walking to the frat that was throwing tonight. the first step you take into the crowded room has you regretting your decision, but your worries go to waste once you’re hearing the music blast through your veins.

you stay within chaewon’s group for most of the night. the girls are fun, yunjin being one of the best people you’ve partied with. it’s halfway through a doja cat song when you feel your bladder getting full from all the beer. you groan at all the effort it’s gonna take to go upstairs to where the bathroom was, but you could use a break.

you quickly tell chaewon you’ll be back, pointing in the direction of the bathroom and reassure her you’re fine when she asks to come with. the world is definitely spinning as you go up the stairs but you do make it to the top without falling over.

but as soon as you reach for the door of the bathroom, you lose balance as the person inside emerges. “fuck,” you groan, falling over into the person ahead, “’m sorry,” you mumble, supporting yourself against the sink.

you’re ready to push whoever it is out of the bathroom when you heard a familar voice. “y/n?”

you look up and actually gasp when you see mark in front of you. “mark?!” you sound incredulous but honestly, you’re just ecstatic. “i miss you,” you say your thoughts shamelessly.

mark reddens or so your vision tells you. “y/n, are you drunk?”

you frown and shake your head, about to explain yourself when a loud voice outside tells you to hurry up with your business, the door still open. mark shouts a, “find somewhere else, buddy!” and shuts the door, locking it behind him.

your drunk brain isn’t doing well with the concept of you in a locked room with mark. “are you drunk, mark?”

mark laughs at your question, “a little, yeah.”

“okay, good, then can you just-” you lose your balance again and mark steadies you instantly, warm hand on your elbow. you lose your train of thoughts at the feel of him, looking into his eyes wordlessly.

you think you stay there for a minute like that, the two of you just catching up on all the looks you’ve missed out on in the last week.

“why are you mad at me?” you ask the question that’s been bugging you for ages. wanting mark to understand how hurt you’ve been, you pull at the sleeve of shirt, “i’ve been so sad. why are you avoiding me?”

mark takes your hand in his, “no! it’s not like that. i’m… not mad at you.”

“really?” you question him through a pout, “really?”

he doesn’t know what to do when pinned with that gaze of yours in that moment. and then his eyes land up on your lips, your little pout.

he knew the alcohol was a bad idea because now he can’t think straight, knowing he has to explain everything to you or he might lose it all. but somehow, instead of words, he feels another ugre crawl up his skin.

just as you open your mouth to speak, you feel mark’s lips on yours, stealing the breath from your lungs. you gasp into his mouth, and he pulls away just as soon as he leaned in. he drops your hand, falling to his knees.

it takes you a moment to re-orient yourself after the taste of mark in your mouth, but you hear mark sniffle and instantly join him on the ground, hands on his face.

“are you crying?”

mark tries to stop himself but he can’t. “i’m sorry, y/n. i’m so sorry.”

“hey,” you find yourself sobering up. how could you not when mark lee is in front of you, tears staining his ever-smiling face? “hey, mark, look at me.” he wipes at his face shakily, looking up at you through a fresh flood of tears.

“i’m sorry,” his voice breaks, “i’ve been acting so selfish with you. i shouldn’t have avoided you. i shouldn’t have kissed you. i’m.. it’s all because…” he trails off conveniently at the part of his sentence you most need to hear.

your fingers trail down to his chin, bringing his face back up, “it’s all because of what, mark? talk to me, baby.”

something in mark uncoils when you coo at him lovingly like that, his name as breathy as the nickname you suddenly throw at him. his lip quivers but his words are clear as day, “fuck, i’m into you, y/n. i know i’m just some guy really but i think i like you. i- like romantically, i’m dying to be with you.” he sighs when you don’t say anything, stunned into silence.

your hand stays put on his face though which mark thinks of as a good sign. gingerly, he takes your hand, gaze pointed at your interlocked fingers. “i know it’s awkward because you’re not into me like that. it’s all good, i understand.”

“mark, you’re drunk,” you finally mumble out, hand twitching in disbelief. “you’re just saying things.”

mark stiffens, “w-what? no! i’m serious, y/n. i’m not even that drunk anymore. how could i be, when you’re right here?” but then, he stirs, hands leaving yours, “oh, but if you’d rather forget that this happened—”

it’s a replay of five minutes ago, except this time your lips come crashing into mark’s, with so much force that you topple him over. he takes you with him, hand finding purchase at your waist as he pulls you on top of him, his back hitting the door of the bathroom.

your kiss is fierce, almost angry because you did not deserve to be kept in the dark about mark’s feelings. you push closer to him, making him groan into your lips at the intensity. you pull away then, hand at mark’s chest, “i hate you for avoiding me like that, mark. i can’t believe you.”

mark tries to explain himself but you’re kissing him again, swallowing his words whole, unforgiving in the way your hands grip his arms. again, you pull away, “what did you think? that i’d stop talking to you because you like me? you’re so stupid sometimes, mark.”

“i don’t—”

“no, you don’t understand. do you see me right now?” mark nods, eyes trailing at your disheveled state. mark couldn’t forget this sight if he wanted to: your hair wet with sweat, panting in between mark’s legs, lips a breath away.

“do i look like i hate you?”

“i mean, you do look annoyed,” mark remarks and you slap his arm with a snarl.

“that’s because you’re being unfair. what about my feelings for you, huh?” you challenge with a glare. “what about how much i suffered just because you decided to not show up to the bookstore? all because you came to some stupid conclusion by yourself?”

“wait,” mark starts, but you’re not letting him talk.

“no, listen, if i could, i’d seriously slap you. because i’m that down bad for you, mark! i’ve been thinking about doing this with you ever since you fell asleep in my bed that day. so fuck you, for hurting me like that.”

you’re breathless, eyes still trained on mark with that look of betrayal mixed with desire. you can’t help yourself though, mark looks absolutely breath-taking in front of you, mouth ajar in shock, lips red from your relentless kisses.

mark takes too long to process your words just then, long enough that you’re coming down from your high, embarassment flooding your veins. you go cold, standing up with a grunt. “i’m just gonna go back,” you mutter in disappointment, leaving before you can see mark’s response.

he’s coming back to his senses now, realizing that maybe you were right about how stupid he’d been. “fuck,” he breathes out, regaining his footing as he chases after you.

this chase proves to be difficult, given that the party only seems to have gotten more crowded since mark left. he struggles through the throngs of people, shouldering through, when he spots a silhouette of you in his peripheral vision. you were outside, apparently talking to another taller figure.

mark follows your shadow to the door, quickly making his way out. his breath hitches when he finds taeyong next to you. his arm is around your shoulder and you’re speaking to him in a low voice.

“y/n,” mark calls out, not hesitating to break taeyong’s hold on you, replacing it with his own embrace. he pulls you close. your eyes are teary and you sniff when you see mark, “what-”

“i’m sorry, can we talk?” he mumbles into your side, still aware of taeyong’s presence.

“oh, hey, mark. i was just,” taeyong moves to stand in front of the two of you, “taking care of y/n. she looked sick.”

“i’m fine, taeyong,” you reassure him, pressing yourself into mark’s side. “i’ll let mark walk me home. good night.” mark is impressed at how easily you dismiss taeyong, pulling mark after you.

“what do you want?”

mark stops you from walking, pulling you into a hug instead. “you’re right, i’m really stupid. let me ask you this instead: would you let me be your boyfriend?”

you release a soft laugh against his neck at his question, arms still for a moment for dramatic effect. then, you wrap yourself around him, kissing your answer into his ear, “of course, you idiot.”

—

[nangel]

Paparazzi, prologue

✍︎ word count | 2038 words

✈︎ missing out on parts? | series

Madeleine -spoken madlen- Daniela Sinclair was the IT girl, the it girl. at least everyone called her an it girl. Everyone either wanted to be her or with her. Everyone knew her and everyone would recognise her. Nobody would ever mess with her.

It was about 7 a.m and the sun was shining through the window of mine and my best friend Olga’s bedroom.

“You’re up already?” my mom asked grinning. “Yeah…” i said already sitting on the bed since I was already up. “I’m surprised you’re already up…usually you are such a…late riser” my mom said sitting to me on the bed. “Yeah…I had a bad headache in the middle of the night probably from night-out with Maureen and Annabelle” i said running my hand through my chocolate brown hair to move it to the side. “Yeah you guys were kinda tipsy” she said grinning. “Yeah we fucked up” i said laughing a little. “A good way to celebrate your last day here” she said laughing. “Oh had to remind me on that huh?” i asked and my mom laughed. “By the way your suitcase is in the bathroom…just in case you look for it” she said grinning while walking to the door. “Yeah I’m gonna pack later” i said rubbing my eyes and my mom nodded. “Good, I’ll bring you breakfast” my mom, Lorelai said grinning from ear to ear with me giving her a nod before standing up walking to the balcony door to open it and let some fresh air get in.

My mom’s name was Lorelai, Lorelai Fischer, before she married my dad Oliver Sinclair. I always liked to compare my mom to Lorelai Gilmore because they had the same name and my mom is basically living, laughing and loving her and she raised me quite the same way, sometimes it even surprises me that she didn’t give me the name-Rory-. My mom went to fashion school when she was younger and studied fashion, she also worked a little bit as a model which was quite a bonus for me. Today she is still doing fashion and clothes and is quite successful with her boutique. My dad has his own business and in working for his own company but mostly at home tho he sometimes is in his office. Me for my part…I always dreamed of becoming a model one day but that dream never really became reality UNTIL I saw this….

“Mom…I have everything” i said annoyed. “I think you forgot your headphones you know those big ones” she said handing me my totebag. “Mom! I put them into the suitcase” i said annoyed. “Yeah misses Sinclair…we’re gonna take good care of her as always” Ashley promised smirking. “Oh I hope so” she said laughing. “Mama we need to go” i said a little rushed. “Alright girls…call me when you’re in Berlin” my mom said smiling as I hugged her a last time before me and Annabelle went to our flight.

I was glad that we finally were back in our apartment and the first thing I did was taking a nap cause I had a huge headache.

“Fuck” i cursed as I ran up the stairs to get as fast as possible into university. Olga, Annabelle and Maureen running right behind us. “We’re gonna be so fucking late” i said as we ran up those stairs

It was our first year well…it’s going to an end, we are right on the end of May. For starters - we were running late because we all slept way too long so we had a hard time catching psychology class. In the end we made it into class without any complications.

“Hey Dani…” someone whispered while I took notes of Miss Diaz tutoring, I looked over just to see Christopher looking over at me leaning right over his desk which was in the same row. “What?” i asked with a smile. “You’ve got a pen?” he asked grinning which made me shake my head before I gave him a pen. “There you go” i said throwing it over to him. “You’re the best” he said smirking. “I know, Ares” i said playfully.

Why ares? Because he looked almost exactly like Ares out of the movie never have I ever and I liked to remind him of that.

After class we were sitting outside talking to our friends. University was way better than high school and all that shit, people were smarter, mostly more mature and there was less fakeness and drama, well…there was a lot of drama but I didn’t really care. I was fucking popular, well me and my best friend’s were, we were the upper-east-side of Berlin or the Plastics as Ares liked to call us because Mean Girls was my favourite movie since I was six years old. Which brings me back to Ares. Ares was a typical playboy and had with that name a lot of girls, for the record A LOT girls but me and him are friends since we started University Besides all the other people I got along with -seniors, sophomores and freshmen- there were only four people I dearly trusted.

“What the fuck” i whispered as I held a letter in my hand, why it was special to the 10 other letters and magazines? Because it was sent from my model agency. “Holy shit” i whispered as I immediately walked up to the seventh floor, the last one where me and Olga lived. I immediately ripped it open and read through it. I couldn’t believe my eyes, i had sent some portfolios to fashion companies all around the world cause I wanted to go international. It was an offer to walk and work for Chanel, besides that it was my favourite brand it was a letter about how they liked my portfolio and that they want to work with me, at the end of the letter stood written a little surprise, my star by Carolin, my manager. Of course I immediately gave her a call where she told me that she had the contract in her office and I should come by at time to sign it so I could immediately get into it. Tho it was my dream there were some consequences I had to face for example I needed to be ready to travel around and be available all time practically and work in other towns for longer, also there were things about my health and body depending the job.

I called Maureen and Annabelle while sitting in the subway They were happy for me and everything and wanted me to sign those papers immediately which made me happy too but on the other side kinda sad too. I decided to put it to the side for a moment to walk into the grocery store to get the groceries. “You want to cook what? Tarte Tatin? Are you insane?” i asked Olga over the phone. “Whatever…I’ll get it, have fun” i said throwing my phone into my tote bag grabbing two different types of dessert apples thinking about which one I should get.

“I’d take those…they are way better for Tarte Tatin” a deep voice with an french accent said to me. “Huh?” i asked surprised turning to him. “The apples…I couldn’t help but hear the conversation and I know Tarte Tatin and I also saw you so I thought you maybe needed some help” he said with a friendly but still deep voice. “Oh right…well thank you…I was struggling a little” i said chuckling a little. “No problem…it’s a good dish by the way” he said smiling while I grabbed six of those apples. “Yeah right…I like it too but I stopped cooking it” i said smiling. “I’m sorry for overhearing the conversation” he said with a smile that made me shaky my head with a chuckle. “Oh don’t worry…it’s fine” i said smiling at him. He looked at me for some seconds before shaking his head and speaking up. “I’m Charles by the way” he said holding out his hand which made me chuckle. “I’m Madeleine, nice to meet you” i said smiling, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you too” he said as we let go again. “I need to go now but thanks for your help” i said with a charming smile. “You’re welcome” he shouted back with me walking to the cash register.

“Kinda sweet actually” Mauren said smiling while we sat in a bar. “I don’t know…he was just…being nice, that’s all” i said casually. “He was flirting” she said. “No he wasn’t, niceness is not flirting” i said smiling. “Why didn’t you ask for his number?” she asked smirking. “Oh god, Riri…stop it, he’s just a stranger” i said laughing. “Oh god…you’re so boring” she said as we drank our drinks.

It was after uni on a Friday and we were all laying outdoor pool and tanning. The guy Olga was out last night was trying to impress her which annoyed her. “God he’s so annoying” she said annoyed. “Why did you even bring him with you?” maureen asked clearly annoyed. “After last night when I wanted to go home he just wrapped hus arm around me and asked what we are going to do tomorrow and I actually wanted to leave, just leave but he didn’t let me so I gave up and told him about today and he asked me if he could come with us” Olga explained. “And you couldn’t have said no sorry I’m with my girls today or by the way I don’t want you to be in my life from now on?” Maureen asked and I laughed. “Nooo” Olga said frustrated. “I don’t know how long I can take this” Maureen groaned. “Oh god…it’s so stupid” i said and laughed. “Right” Olga said annoyed turning her head to the side. “Let’s just put him to the side for some hours” Maureen said and I just smirked. From afar we saw Annabelle walk up to us in more than just a happy mood. “What happened to her?” i asked immediately into the round and Maureen shrugged her shoulder while Olga was narrowing her eyes. “Girls. Girls. Girls!” Annabelle shouted excited. “What?” we asked monotonous. “I got the hottest shit for us” she said sitting down on the grass next to my towel as I sat up. “Sorry but I don’t get it” i said confused. “I bought us tickets for the formula one race in hold on tight…Monaco!” she said extremely excited and happy. “No way” Olga said sitting up taking off her sunglasses. “Holy shit” Maureen shouted excited. “Oh my god…how did you get those?” i asked her smiling. “I ordered the last four and since we all kinda are into formula one…or the drivers I thought what a great thing if we four would go there. So…are you coming with me” she asked smirking excited. “I’d love to” I said smiling. I can’t believe this…it’s gonna be great” Maureen said excited. “Yeah I can’t wait to see the drivers” Olga said smirking. “Really guys?” she asked excited. “Yeah” I said and she hugged us. “It’s gonna be so great” she said grinning from ear to ear. “I’m kinda really looking forward to see everything of f1 and those things it’s all over tiktok” i said excited. “I’m looking forward to get to know the drivers” Olga said smirking and we laughed. “Those are great new, Belle…I’m sooo excited” Maureen said grinning. “It’s gonna be the hottest shit” Annabelle said smirking and we felt terribly excited.

I wasn’t really into cars or races neither Formula one but my friends were into it especially Annabelle and Maureen so Olga and I got really bombed with their content and now that we are having this chance I’m pretty excited to see all of that and to have a lot of fun with my girls, I just know it’s gonna be a great time.

“Let’s fucking do this, girls” i said excited.

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