#and I really like this concept like I feel like it would feel cheap and flat if Chris was actually supernaturally right all the time

[triglycercule]

Murder trio

i actually cried seeing this in my inbox i will not lie. like actually fucking cried tears of joy /srs absolutely no words can express just how absolutely thralled i am that you drew this. i'm actually ACTUALLY so so overjoyed and flattered and so happy that someone could manage to encapsulate just how much i love the jk!trio and just how silly they are and how you put your own spin on this and made them just as cute and silly and amazing as i've always wanted to see I'M ACTUALLY CRYING THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR DRAWING THE JK!MTT 😭😭😭

im so sorry for the late answer i have literally had no time to draw but TYSM FOR THIS I DREW MORE JK AU 4 YOU TO THANK YOU❤️❤️💜💜💙💙 ‼️‼️

they just got out of an extreme gaming session at the boardwalk arcade and now the suns setting and killer wants to get ice cream before it sets so they can watch the sunset but as usual she's a bit too excited for horror and dust to keep up and dust is absolutely dying (she gets ZERO excercise and killer is FAST) and horror just wants to take her time and also spare dust from killer's wrathful running speed. its ok though they manage to eat the icecream while watching the sunset even while slowed down (the vibes in this one are immaculate this is what jk fashion au stands for. silly fluffy important friendship bonding memories. i love. it's not full effort because i wanted to get this done quickly so i wouldnt respond late but im UNFORTUNATELY busy and now its been a day,,,,, I STILL LOVE THE ART YOU SENT ME THANM YKJ SO MUCH)

[orcelito]

But. Yeah. i finished reading trigun maximum.

this manga ripped me apart limb from limb, then put me back together again. never have i felt a catharsis this deep before. a manga that made me cry seven times, as opposed to the previous record holders of two times each.

it really is something special. and i love it so, so, SO much.

[daydreamerdrew]

Human Target: Final Cut (2002)

[eyivibyemi]

✧ I won’t really write descriptions for these, but see original post tags for explanation/commentary on the song snippet ✧

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Do you think it's weird that I was fine with Roxas finding out he was Sora's Nobody in Kingdom Hearts, but Adrien not being what we thought he was triggered my ick factor a lot? Do you think it's because we learned that about Roxas before we had a lot of time to get attached to him?

I was initially going to say that I can't answer this because I've only played Kingdom Hearts 1, so my knowledge of the later games is pretty limited. Then I remembered that my little brother is both obsessed with those games and the Mycroft to my Sherlock*, so I gave him a call and got the expert opinion (and a reminder that I need to play the Kingdom Hearts games so that my brother can talk about them with someone who understands story telling because those games apparently make a lot of... interesting choices.)

Here is the sum of my brother's analysis:

The two properties handled the concept of personhood and artificial beings in such wildly different ways that it would never even occur to him to compare them (though it was an interesting question once posed). A good portion of the later Kingdom Hearts games revolve around asking what a person even is. Should they try to make the Nobodies into people? Do the Nobodies even need to change to be people or are they people already? What makes Roxas different from other Nobodies? These questions start being asked very early on and, for all the story's flaws, you can tell that the writers are aware that they're dealing with a serious topic and that they're trying to do it justice.

Meanwhile, Miraculous introduces artificial beings who don't have true free will and then... completely ignores all of the ethical implications of that plot point. Emilie and Gabriel are good parents. The fact that the heroes have been killing off sentimonsters isn't concerning. Gabriel's commands are just a minor inconvenience to Adrienette and not anything that needs to be explored in a deeper way. He's still totally redeemable and it's fine that Adrien never learned the truth while his father was alive so that he could decide what that meant for their relationship on his own terms.

Given all of that, it's really not shocking that Kingdom Hearts makes you feel invested while Miraculous repulses you because the Miraculous introduced human sentimonsters for cheap shock value to the point where I firmly believe that it was a retcon. Meanwhile Kingdom Hearts planned major elements of the plot around the concept and set it up right from the start of the second game. If Miraculous had done the same kind of thing, then I doubt that most salters would be deeply upset by the concept. They still might dislike it, but it would be seen more as a matter of taste than as a true flaw.

*For those who don't know, Mycroft Holmes is Sherlock Holmes' older brother. Sherlock openly admits that Mycroft is the smarter and more observant of the two siblings. The same can be said of my sibling when it comes to story telling. Everything I can do, he can do just as well or even better. He's never seen miraculous, but knows the major plot beats from a mix of cultural osmosis and reading the occasional fanfic when an author he likes crosses fandoms. He is highly amused that no one he follows does anything save for fix-it type stuff and says it tells him everything he needs to know about canon's writing quality, an assessment I fully agree with.

[muntitled]

𝙄𝙍𝙍𝙀𝙋𝙇𝘼𝘾𝙀𝘼𝘽𝙇𝙀

Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

Summary: Toji is intent on ruining every other man for you

Warnings: Language, Toxic Relationship, fwb, Age Gap, Minor Gaslighting, Jealousy, Slight Angst, Coercion, Manipulation, Manhandling, Possessiveness, PDA, Threats, Smut (+18) Minors DNI, DUB/CON, Grinding, Forced Orgasm, Rough Sex, Toji Filming You, Video Sex?, Humiliation Kink, Exhibition Kink, Massive Degradation Kink, Neediness, Mutual Masturbation, Humping, Spitting, Breeding Kink, Daddy Kink, DDLG, Massive Praise Kink, Threats, Slight CNC, Extreme Humiliation, Forced Breeding

A/N: Please proceed with caution, I beg

Perhaps your first mistake is assuming you could open his message, glance over it with hooded, glossy eyes, and swipe out, with the blatant intention of ignoring him.

Toji is rarely someone who fancies wasting time. He types like the old man he is, with messages devoid of emoji's or textual abbreviations.

He had simply and succinctly written:

I miss your face.

His message is unambiguous with the expectation that you are now supposed to drop every commitment you might harbour on this thunderous Thursday night to accommodate him and his nighttime hard-on that probably hit him in a slump of boredom.

It irritated you to imagine how secondary you always seem to be in his mind's eye. It pissed you off to think that his words when he fucked you, his blatant degrdation, may hold a sliver of truth. Perhaps you really were just a sex toy he only makes use of when he wishes for a break from the rest of the world and its obligations. That piercing thought that he used you accommodate all his kinks, while he continuously failed to claim you amongst his associates... it broke you. It left you feeling cheap and ragged and worthless and-

another message peaks over your home screen:

I know you're seeing this. Tell him to fuck off.

"Everything okay?" Your head snaps up from your phone, immediately meeting the eyes of the man you had just kissed under the awning of your Townhouse patio. His warm eyes which had stayed warm throughout the duration of your date are now hooded in concern.

"Everything's perfectly fine," You attempt to reassure your coworker who had just taken you on a fantastic date. There is an inflection in your voice which you quickly attempt to clear, "Just a message from one of my students-"

You're interrupted by another incoming notification which you instinctively check.

I miss your cunt. Need to see you touch yourself.

Swiping out of that particular message had been significantly more difficult, and it took all your willpower to ignore the slew of notifications.

"My kids tend to send messages outside office hours too," your date soldiers on, bending his tall frame hoping to draw your attention once again. "It's like they don't understand the concept of school time and downtime. Teachers have lives too,"

Your eyes narrow infinitesimally at the strain in his voice when he says, "I like seeing you in academic work mode, though. It's hot." You immediately notice his words as a veneer to mask the irritation at having your date interrupted by your notifications. All that hangs between you two now is the rites of passage one is expected to complete at the end of every date.

'Ask me up' his eyes practically pleaded, as you noticed him send tiny glances at your front door, 'Ask me up and let's get this over with',

And perhaps, maybe you would have invited him up. Lord knows your own arousal had been building with the steady stream of Toji's messages, one more quick glance revealed the final message:

Do you honestly imagine yourself calling that puny little thing, Daddy?

A shuddering breath leaves your throat as a million questions bombard a million other statements racing through your mind. Questions of how the fuck Toji knew you were on a date were overshadowed by the realization that you are going to sleep with this stranger tonight. You are going to find a new anchor and a brand new distraction.

"Would you like to stay for a drink-" You asked, or would have asked, had it not been for the sheer shock at having your own door open behind you. You spin around, utterly speechless as you and your date both watch Toji answer your door.

"She doesn't drink," He says, leaning his bare, muscled shoulder against your doorframe, the rest of him is clad in his sweatpants, the drawstring left lazily to hang, "So finding any beverage alcoholic enough for her to negate the fact that you're not going to make her cum, will be quite the feat." Your coworker bristles at Toji's remark, but you're corralled into silence. It is as if your brain can not comprehend what your eyes are seeing in front of you. Your voice is dwindling as you attempt to ask,

"Where did you… How the hell did you get my keys?" But Toji disregards you as easily as he has been doing for the duration of your relationship. Arousal be damned, all you allow yourself to feel in this very moment is red, white, and hot, anger.

It is so easy for him to look past you, so easy for him to pretend you're not there when his cock isn't forcing you to take his cum. The anger pulsates through you, straining your tear ducts. If it weren't for his sudden, inexplicable movements you probably would have cursed him out with tears streaking your face.

With his eyes still on your date, Toji pulls your limp body against him. He dips his head to splay a calloused kiss at the side of your head before letting his hands drift over the curvy outlines of your body. He rubs you soothingly, in a way he knows would get you into a compliant, likely sated state as he pushes your head onto his bare chest.

"You're still standing here?" His head tilts as he stares down your date; a scarred lip curling at the end. "Would you like to watch?" By this point, you're so deep into detangling your own conflicting emotions that you're not even sure who Toji is speaking to. What you are aware of is his bulge rubbing against you from behind. His grip on your hips are concrete as he looks at the now utterly angered man, "I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to," Toji's lips graze your ear, "She does enjoy putting on a show,"

You're utterly horrified that his words and raucous display have your colleague lumbering away from your doorstep and racing to his car, never looking back.

"That is an utter shame. I think he would've liked to see how needy you get when you wanna cum-" But you've finally gained enough sensibility to push him away from you. Your heart is beating loud in your ear as you push past him and into your living room.

"Where is it,"

"My dick? It's in my pants and it wants your attention-"

"Your shirt!" Your voice thunders up into the rafters of your living room's ceiling, likely in vicious combat with the thunder groaning outside. "You're going to get your shirt and you're going to leave my house and you will then proceed to leave my fucking life!" You're pushing over cushions and decorative pillows as you search frantically for Toji's shirt, "Give me my fucking house keys and leave me the fuck alone, Toji, I'm serious!"

In the tempest of your movements, frizzy hair wild from your outburst and your manic movements, you are utterly seething to find him directly behind you. His head, dipping into the nape of your neck, deposits a row of kisses as he pushes himself up against you.

"I really need to fuck you." He says, completely reducing your earlier words into nothingness, "I need to hear you make those needy little whimpers of yours and I need you to call me Daddy, okay? I need you to tell Daddy you want him to make you a Mommy," He is utterly delirious as he fists your breasts over your buttoned shirt and thrust his hips into your backside. He is deluded by his own fantasies, guided by his own arousal with little to no thought for your own feelings. You hated that his desires flowed parallel to yours. You hated that you wanted exactly what he wanted. You hated that your panties were already steadily getting soaked at just the thought of him needing you so much he started humping lazily into your ass. "Daddy needs you to take care of him, hm? Can you do that, pretty girl?"

Your voice is barely above a whisper when you speak, afraid that it might bleed into a horrendous moan, "When have you ever taken care of me, Toji? You fucking humiliated me-" He spins you around until your chest is facing him. You fight to evade the sight of his cock straining against his grey sweatpants as you stare blankly up at him.

"You like it," Toji says, bringing a hand up to cup the side of your cheek, "And I like that you like it." And perhaps, maybe a sick, emotionally damaged part of you did enjoy it when he made you suffer a little. His words bring revelation, as you think back to seconds ago, how him touching you - disrespecting you in front of your coworker brought on a heightened state of arousal.

"Make yourself cum." He commands as he hurriedly undoes the buttons of your blouse. You quickly notice that his patience has finally cracked, and a vexed scowl now dances on Toji's face as he discards your blouse on the floor, "No more questions. Make yourself fucking cum-" He growls, as he forces you down onto your couch with a hand gripping your scalp and another, pulling a wayward pillow in front of you.

"Make yourself cum because when I touch you, your pleasure is going to be the least of my fucking concerns."

You eye the pillow with slight trepidation while Toji eyes you from above. His hand is still firmly placed on top of your head, lightly craning it backwards to see every emotion running through your face.

"Keep the skirt on," He orders, and watches with hungry eyes as you slowly take off your underwear and mount the cushion in front of you.

"Give me your phone," he is already grabbing at your device, fumbling for the camera.

"Toji, please-"

"It's Toji, now!?" He asks, laughing breathlessly as he presses record and pushes the camera into your face, "Who the fuck is Toji to you?"

Your eyes snap shut, hoping to get away from the invading insectile lense or fresh coat of arousal betweenyour thighs. Your mind is utterly fried by the stimulation you're getting from every output. Your hips have started languidly moving against the pillow, feeling pathetically satiated by the friction against your soaked little clit,

"Look at you- Fuck!" Toji removes his hand on your head to lightly paw at the bulge so deliriously close to your face, "Look at what a fucking slut you are! Do your little work friends know how stupid you get when you're on the verge of cumming-"

"Toji-"

"I said who the fuck is Toji to you!?" The sheer and utter cruelty in his tone has you humping the pillow faster, while you clumsily raise a hand to paw at your breasts. Unable to keep his composure any longer, Toji's hand descends into his sweatpants as he begins to stroke his aching dick in unison with your hips. You watch with hooded, fucked out eyes. Your pillowy lips pull in between your teeth as a pornographic moan bubbles from within your chest.

You decide to give in. "P-Please Daddy, Please fuck me- I fucking need you to cum inside me- p-please-" You're unable to stop, feeling your wetness spread along the pillow, as you watch him stroke intently, "Fuck me- I need you to fuck me, fuck me please, Daddy-" You're utterly breathless, repeating your words like a wanton, desperate whore, "Please… Daddy," you continue to whisper, "Daddy,"

"Fuck-you look so fucking sexy, baby," He doesn't know whether to look at the video of your hips moving greedily against the pillow, or to watch the real thing: your hips making a web of sticky trails of arousal on the couch.

"Apologise to Daddy, like a good girl," He really wants to fuck you but his own pride, the curse of his averous stands in his way, "Tell Daddy you're sorry for being a foolish little whore. Tell him you'll never ignore a message from him ever again-" your shoulders flinch at the sound of your phone being discarded on the floor but still, your hips are unrelenting as you say, "I'm sorry, Daddy, I'm so sorry." Drool drips from the side of your mouth, falling along your exposed breasts, which Toji squeezes recklessly. "Never! I'll never ignore another message from you ever, ever, ever," you're operating on autopilot, as you watch him release his cock from inside his sweatpants, his fingers prod and twist at your nipple.

"I miss your mouth," He utters drunkenly as he bends down, "Kiss me," And you obey as you rise to meet his lips. The soft roughness of Toji's lips only has your hips humping desperately against the pillow once more, his tongue forcing its way inside until you're both kissing with lewdity and ferocity. "Fucking slut-" he says, pulling back to push you backwards,

"My horny humping girl is so ready for Daddy to fuck her isn't she?" You're completely flooded with anticipation, it flows through your arteries, alerting every part of your brain. You feel as though you're about to taste euphoria as Toji roughly pulls your hips to the edge of the couch, lifting it to meet his cock which he hurriedly slams into you.

He fucks you, hard and rough and as needy as you feel- hovering above you so every stroke has his pelvis pushing against your clit as you fucks you into your own couch.

"You thought you could just fucking get away from me, hm?" There's a heavy condescending tone in his voice, one that has you arching your back with your lips pulled between your teeth. You're striving to get away from his harsh thrusts because the pleasure is way too much . It's all bubbling inside you, threatening to spill out everywhere and anywhere.

"I fucking told you, didn't I!?" Droplets of water fall from his hair as he watches you so intensely. You think you might cum on the spot, "Daddy fucking told you that you can't ever say no to him- you can't ever tell him to stop- Stop fucking moving!" But your movements have him more turned on than you'd initially thought, allowing him to use the advantage of his brawn, to lock you down with his iron grip at your hips. You're trapped on the couch underneath him, as he continues to fuck you like you don't exist,

"If you keep moving like that- fuck! If you keeping fucking trying to get away Daddy will have no choice but to cum inside you," Your legs tingle with the nearness of your euphoria, it only expands as he brings his lips directly onto of yours as he mutters, "Daddy's going to cum inside you, okay? Maybe that's what you need to realise you can't talk to other men? Maybe getting you fucking pregant will make sure you'll stop being a fucking slut-"

His cock is shallow and relentless inside your soaked, gummy walls, it pushes against everything it can find and is utterly relentless on that one sensitive bundle of nerves that only he seems to be able to find.

"Are you going to cum!?" He asks, "Because I'm so fucking close baby- I want you to cum with Daddy, okay? Be a good girl for once in your fucking life-"

"FUCK-" You're a screaming, wet mess as you cum so violently, it disrupts the flow of your entire body, "Thats it… Gonna get you pregnant- oh fuck-" he exclaims, his white hot seed exploding inside of you, prolonging the overwhelming sensation of your own orgasm. It completely takes over your mind - feeling so completely full of him. Toji's hips lightly shudder as he attempts to milk as much of himself up inside of you, before pulling away. He is utterly mesmerised by the sticky, white cum oozing out of your puffy vagina. He watches, transfixed, as he brings his fingers up to slide as much of his cum inside you but it all comes sliding back.

"What are you," You're barely able to find your voice, "What are you doi-"

But he already has you upside down. His muscles flex he holds you carefully by your hips, with your head grazing the carpet. You recognize the movement as a relic of the old wives' tale. The second his cum is swimming inside you, you need to lay upside down to help it along.

No scientific evidence that this guarantees any sort of pregnancy, of course, but Toji strikes you as the superstitious type.

"Making sure the job's done." He says, "You think I was kidding about getting you pregnant?"

I can explain...

[russellsppttemplates]

Never letting you go (Max Verstappen)

There was nothing stopping you and Max now

Note: english is not my first language. This is the first Max big piece to sort of introduce their arc, let me know what you think! ✨️

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions Jos forbidding Max and reader of dating, curse words

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"What do you mean you're going to the Grand Prix?", you quirked your brow as your friend Cara sipped her coffee, "I thought you said you'd never be caught dead one of those", you chuckled.

"Matthew's company got a bunch of passes because they got a deal with one of the sponsors - I think? - I don't know much about it, all I know is that he brought three home because he thought you'd like to join us", she offered.

You never hid how much you enjoyed watching Formula One, even if watching it, especially in the last couple of years, often brought emotionally heavy memories back.

"That's nice, count me in! What type of passes are they?", you questioned, taking a bite from the cake on your plate.

"I don't know, he was talking all about them and I must admit I zoned out", she admitted, "but he said they were really good! He was very surprised at what the passes had, but his boss is very cheap so I don't know how great they actually are considering the possible comparison", she smiled as you nodded, "count me in, though. It's been a while since I stepped foot on one of them", you recalled.

The last race you attended was when Max was in Formula Three still. The paddock was so big and crowded with so many people, you doubted you'd bump into him. It wouldn't do you any good, would it?

"How did you get hospitality passes?", you gasped as Matthew handed you the lanyard, "they've invested a lot of money so I guess the sponsors didn't mind loosening the belt", he shrugged, putting his own around his neck after scanning it.

"Thank you for this, by the way", you flashed him a smile, "no worries, Y/N, the only way I could convince her to come was if you joined us, and I don't mind actually spending the weekend with someone who also knows a little about the sport", he chuckled as Cara laced her arms with her fiancé, "I'm glad he has you to talk to as well, there's only so much feigned interest I can muster up", she rolled her eyes.

Scuderia Alpha Tauri had been Toro Rosso, but despite the name change, as soon as you walked in, some faces were still familiar from the pictures you got sent from Max on gia first season with them.

"Why did you get interested in Formula One anyway?", Matthew asked you while you sipped on a latte, "I always loved the idea of the cars going very very fast, and then when I actually had the knowledge to understand how they worked, they really intrigued me", you offered, "I also had a friend who was very into it, so he also escalated my interest in it".

"He didn't pull you enough to work on motor sport though?", Matt wondered.

"I didn't enjoy the competitiveness of all of it", you admitted, "it's very strict, and if you want to be successful, it takes the good things away - your family, your friends", you opened your heart to him, thankfully noticing it and sorting the heartfelt confession seemingly about a job, "they travel a lot and they're really competitive that is, I'd never be able to do that for a job", you smiled, hoping you saved yourself from further questions.

"That's why you did mechanical engineering, then?", he asked, "for the most part, yes", you replied, "Oh, they're starting free practice", you smiled, looking over to the track from the balcony seats.

Sophie walked into the RedBull hospitality, looking for her family. Because it was Monaco, they felt safe enough to bring the Lio and Luka to the paddock, knowing they would be close to home in case things didn't go well as planned.

"Grandma!", the oldest boy called her from his spot on his father's lap, his brother sleeping on his mother's chest.

"Hey, my dears", she greeted, "You won't believe who I found on my way here", Sophie began, "I'm surprised Max didn't tell me he invited Y/N. It's a shame she isn't here with us, though", she commented.

The first indicator of surprise should be the way the blond woman looked at her mother, "what do you mean Y/N is here?", she whisper-yelled.

"I just saw her in the Alpha Tauri hospitality, I was walking with Helmut and he was headed there, that's when I noticed her. Max didn't tell you?", she quirked an eyebrow just as her son sat down next to them.

"What didn't I tell who?", Max spoke, setting his plate of food down on the table.

"Why didn't you tell us you invited Y/N for this weekend?", Victoria was the first to scold him, hitting his arm in a sisterly manner, "and in Alpha Tauri of all places? I'm sure they would've bent the rules a little and give you a pass so she could be a RedBull guest!".

Max thought he heard incorrectly. Y/N, his Y/N was in the paddock, in the sister team of the one he now drove for.

"I, I didn't offer her anything", Max said, his brother in-law looking at him weirdly as well, "I don't know how or why she is here, but I had nothing to do with it. We haven't spoken in a while", he mumbled. A while, three years, same thing, he supposes.

"Well, I just saw her. You should go say hi, I'm sure she would love to but she can't exactly find you where she is, it has to be the other way around", Sophie offered.

"What makes you believe she would?", Max questioned, both himself and his mother and sister.

"Because the way you never forgot her, she never forgot you", Victoria sterned, "don't you think she deserves your attention? She was in it for the long run, Max, and maybe she has moved on, maybe even has someone", the thought alone made Max loose his cool, "but she was your friend, the person you trusted most in the world and you let her slip".

"Don't sugar coat it, please", Max sarcastically replied.

"It's true, Max, and you know it", Sophie said, sensing her son didn't want to talk about the topic, but not allowing him to leave the table without a piece of her mind as well.

Max needed to put on his suit again, ready for qualifying, walking along the corridor until he found his door.

"Hey, before you go", Victoria called her brother as he was about to go into his driver's room, "Lio is really fussy, so we're just going back to your place, I'm sorry", she said.

"It's fine, whatever you feel the most comfortable with", he said, waving at his nephews and brother in-law.

"We will be supporting you from home, then", she said, kissing his cheek, "And Max? I know you're not used to it, but follow your heart", she smiled.

"Can I do that now?", he softly bit back, smiling and blushing at his words.

"What's stopping you?", Victoria said as she walked back to her family.

"Who is that?", Jos asked as Max asked him if he could invite you over for dinner before the season began.

The conversations with Toro Rosso were getting serious and the opportunity for a seat in Formula One was right there, up for him to grab if he worked enough.

"She's my friend, you know Y/N", Max tried to reason with his father.

"For this to work, Max, I think you need to distance yourself from home", Jos advised, ignoring his mention of you and carrying on with his lecture, "I'm talking no parties, no trips to come and see friends and family - I really think those are just getting in the way between you and the career you deserve".

The statement was clear, and Max knew better than to question it.

"I've spoken to your mother - she wasn't the biggest fan -, but you really need to focus on this", Jos reiterated, "no friends, much less girlfriends", he chuckled.

The dinner ended up being just Jos, Max and Victoria, the thought of having you there quickly erased in his head.

When Max met up with you before he left for the season, he was antsy. Just a week before, you had stolen innocent kisses from eachother's lips and revelled in the feeling of being in eachother's embrace without a care in the world. And it felt good, so good, like the piece that was missing in Max's life finally completed the puzzle.

"Hey", you greeted, kissing the corner of his lips and allowing him to pull you down to sit on the sofa.

"I spoke to my dad, I'm leaving in a few days", Max said, "there's some testing they want me to do still", he mumbled, lacing your fingers in his.

"And where do we end up?", you asked the million euro question. Truthfully, you entertained the thought. Even though being away from Max for most of the year would be a challenge, the love you felt for him was too big, too great for you to forgo that challenge. You were his and he would be yours.

"It's not going to work, Y/N. I need to focus on racing", he stated blankly despite how much it hurt him to utter those words out to you as the conversation with his father resonated with him.

"Max your focus is getting a Formula One seat", his father sterned, "do you know how hard it is? How much effort and work you have to put in? There can't be any distractions!"

"But Y/N isn't a distraction!", Max reasoned. If anything, you were the one keeping him humble and with both feet on the ground at all times. You cared for him, not because of his racing, who he was or who he could become, but because you loved eachother.

You'd never do anything to ruin his career, Max thought as he worked up the courage to tell you all of it. He couldn't get distracted, not now. He couldn't afford making mistakes because he had a girlfriend back at home waiting on him.

Your understanding, however, wasn't aligned with his expectations. He hoped you'd fight, at least, but you swalled your tears and nodded, "okay, Max. I hope you get your seat, you deserve it so much, I know it will happen".

Max put in on pole, leaving you to smile and snap a picture of the moment, wondering if you'd have the courage to send it to him.

"So, does this mean it's over?", Cara asked, "Because I could do with going home, actually", she nudged.

"Let's go, then!", you smiled, putting your phone in your bag and looking for the way out, ending up following the other guests into the paddock.

"Y/N, dear!", you heard someone call your name, and on cue, you looked for the voice despite the fact that it wad unlikely someone recognised you there.

Sophie didn't age, you thought, as you looked at the source of the voice that called you.

"I'm not going to hold you up, guys, you can go!", you smiled, waving at Matthew and Cara once you assured them you would be fine.

"I'm sorry, Sophie - they're my friends, and he was the one who got the passes from his office", you apologised for leaving her to wait a little for you.

"It's alright, dear. It's been so long since I've seen you", she nudged, "I'm sure Max would love to see you, too!", she jumped straight in.

"Would he, though?", you squinted your eyes.

"He would, Y/N", Sophie said earnestly, "I saw you this morning - at Alpha Tauri -, and he knows you're here", she smiled, "I'm assuming you're watching the race, too. Pay him a visit, okay?", she rubbed your shoulder and left a kiss on your cheek, "He's also my ride home, so I need to go look for him! Bye, Y/N!".

Race day meant rush everywhere, so you got to the paddock just in time before everyone rushed inside, finding the perfect spot to watch the race.

"I need to take this call, one second", you said to Cara, recognising Max's contact on your phone.

"Y/N, hi! I didn't think you'd pick up actually", you could hear the nervousness on his voice, "thanks for the picture, by the way, it was very... nice".

"It's no problem really, I thought it would be a good memory to keep", you smiled, "are you ready for the race? Or do you want me to give you a pep talk?", you chuckled. Back in the day, whenever he didn't feel too confident about a race, you had the power to help him out his head in the right place and bring his winning mentality to light.

"I'm fine, actually", he smiled, "I- I was wondering if you'd like to meet up later", he gulped, "I'd like to talk to you, but it's difficult until the race finishes, and then debriefs and media and all that".

"Sure, text me when you're done then", you stated boldly, "have a good race Max, you know I'm supporting you".

"Even if you're with Alpha Tauri?", he joked.

"I never stopped supporting you, it's not going to be a guest pass that's going to change it", you said as he bid you goodbye, ending the call and finding your friends.

When Max won, you clapped unashamedly as everyone else seemed to join you in your excitement, and after the race celebrations were done with, you waited patiently for the text to get to your phone.

"So you're staying back?", Cara asked, "I am, I'm meeting a friend", you explained. At her curious stare, you furthered, "do you remember the guy I told you about when you tried to set up that double date?", she nodded, "yes, the guy you were friends with, and when you both wanted to take a step forward, he had this big shot as his dream career and his father wouldn't allow him to date anyone", she said as she realized, "my goodness, he's here? Y/N, go for it!", she encouraged, "I know you still have feelings for him, who knows? Maybe this is your chance to reconnect", she rubbed your shoulder.

After you bid goodbye to Cara and Matthew, a text go through to your phone.

From: Max

Mum is waiting for you at the door :)

Approaching the hospitality, you quickly spotted Sophie, "c'mon in, dear! Max wanted me to get you myself, he was afraid no one would ler you in", she chuckled, guiding you through until you were in their dining area.

"Y/N!", Max beamed, setting down the crayons he was drawing with at the table with Luka and walking up to you.

"Hey everyone!", you waved at Victoria, putting a pin the two little boys' curious stares as they looked at you so you could hug Max.

"Congratulations, Max, I knew you could do it", you whispered into his skin, his arms hugging you so tightly against him.

"Thank you, Y/N", he spoke, "I missed you so much, I missed this so much", he squeezed you one more time before allowing you to greet the rest of his family.

"This is Tom, and that's Lio and Luka", Victoria said after she hugged you tighlty, "say hi, guys!", she encouraged as the two little copies of Max waved back at you.

"We're going to head home, it was great seeing you, Y/N!", Sophie announced, "I'm sure we'll see eachother a lot more from now on", Victoria complimented, helping her husband pack up the kids' belongings and toys so they could retire to Max's apartment.

"I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner sometime this week", he jumped straight forward, "I'm having dinner with the team today and then the rest of the grid want to go to the club, so I wouldn't be able to spend that much time with you, and I want to be able to just focus on you", he smiled.

"That's fine by me, I appreciate the thought", you smiled as he led you to one of the tables, asking one of the caffé staff for something to drink for the two of you.

“Listen, I think, I think we found each again for a reason", he began boldly, not sure if this was the way to go after not having spoken to you in a couple of years. Still, it wasn't a lie.

"Define found, considering we've been iving in the same city for nearly a year", you smiled, "although you don't spend much time here anyway, so I guess that's a nice enough excuse", you teased, your foot tapping his shin playfully under the table.

"So, Monaco, hm?", Max started, "I didn't expect you to live here out of all places", he nudged, wanting to know more about your move but afraid he was stepping in vulnerable territory.

"I did it because of my earnings for sure. I've got to save as much as I can on tax on the fortune I make as a female engineer", you sternly said as he looked the most surprised you'd ever seen him, "I'm joking - not all of us move to Monaco so our million euro salaries have better taxes", you teased.

"Why did you do it, then?", he asked, smiling at how familiar it all seemed. Just like old times, he thought.

"The company I work for was the one that needed the tax benefits", you clicked your tongue, "and they wanted people to move here. Only one of my colleagues moved here with her whole family, as they expected, so they ended up calling the ones that weren't attached to anything or anyone in particular, and I was one of them", you shrugged your shoulders, "I moved to a new country with a different language, the only people I knew were my work colleagues, so I had no one to complain about them to, but I make it work - at least I like to think I do", you smiled.

Not attached to anyone, he recalled, humming at your response, "it's not such a bad place to live, right? Granted I don't spend much time year, but still enough to appreciate it", Max spoke.

"How about you, Mr World Champion", you nudged, "how does it feel?".

"Obviously it's great, and everything that I worked for", he added, knowing the underlying topic in the conversation, "I get to drive fast cars and I travel the world, there's not much left for it to be the complete dream", he said, gingerly touching your fingers over the table and accepting your hold when you laced them together.

Conversation was flowing easily until one of the employees told Max that he would have to go and get ready for the dinner, meaning you would have to part ways.

"Does Tuesday work for you? I'm not sure how well I'll be tomorrow", he chuckled, "yes, that's fine by me, just text me the address and the time", you smiled, getting up and kissing his cheek, "have a good time, Max, but be careful with the alcohol, I'd hate to have to pick you up again", you reminded him of the time he got way too drunk and he insisted he would only go home if you came to pick him up.

.

Dinner was great and Max invited you back to his place, hoping you'd be able to talk properly about the elephant in the room in a more private and comfortable place.

"You're struggling there, aren't you? Even with your itty bitty small hands?", Max teased as your pinky just about stretched enough for you to not lose everything by dumping the contents of your bag on the sidewalk.

As you and Max left the restaurant, you fiddled with your wallet in your bag, hoping to keep the card the waiter gave you safe for the next time you wanted to visit the place.

"I do not have itty bitty small hands!", you argued, shaking your bag a little to make sure everything was safely in place.

"We need to have the same starting line - like", you rearranged them so your wrists would be touching. Still, it didn't make much of a difference on your end. It looked like it even highlighted a few more differences, "yours is much bigger, I give up", you giggled.

"See?", Max said as he held your hand out against his, "these are the size of fairy hands! Tinkerbell probably has bigger hands than yours!", he exclaimed as you noticed how much bigger his hand was compared to yours. His fingers were a little bit thicker than yours and his palm covered all of your hand almost completely.

Now or never, Max thought as he laced your fingers in his once you let your arms drop and rest by your side. His thumb rubbed your skin and warmed you up, "was this your plan all along?", you wondered, feeling the bravery around you two and choosing to act on it.

"Lacing my hand in yours or proving to you that my biggest mistake was letting you go all of those years ago?", Max stated as he looked deeply into your eyes.

"We should talk about this inside", you bit your lip, allowing him to guide you through the apartment complex he lived in.

His living room was decorated in classy tones, probably with the help of him mother and sister, as you sat down on the sofa and face eachother.

"I know I apologised at the time, but I'm still sorry, Y/N", Max said, "at the time it was the dream and I didn't have much room for my own decisions. Still, I should've fought", he concluded.

"You didn't blatantly acknowledge it and decided we couldn't be together, Max", you conforted despite the hurt you felt at the time, "it hurt, - like a bitch actually -, but not because you were following your dream. I never wanted to pull you back and get in the way of your achievements", you gulped, "but I would be lying if I said I wouldn't like to give this a go, to give us a chance", you smiled.

"I know I have crazy schedules - I am barely here during the season -, but you were always the one I thought about. When I first raced in F1, when I got my first podium, my first win, my bad races - I wanted you there", he admitted, blue eyes looking into yours, "I can't promise that it will be easy, but I'll never risk you or our relationship, that's non negotiable", he stated.

Moving closer to him, you cupped his cheek with your palm, the slight stubble tickling your skin, "I'm in, Max", you smiled, taking the plunge and kissing his mouth, lips moving in sync as his hands pulled you into his lap.

The blissful moment was interrupted by a meow, Jimmy and Sassy walking into the living room, "Oh, guys", Max held you close to him as the cats sniffled you, "this is Jimmy and Sassy, my cats, took then long enough to leave the guest bedroom", he smiled as you tried to pet them, "cute, they seem nice enough - for cats anyway".

[magewritesstories]

[ SPENCER REID ] IT'S BASIC MATH, REALLY

cw. my continuation of unit chief!spencer reid x gen z!agent, in this installation you try to explain girl math to him [fluff.] wc. 601 (it's a small blurb)

SPENCER REID KNOWS MATH; HE HAS A PHD IN IT TO PROVE SO. But somehow you've managed to stump him (which happens more often than the genius would like to admit) with the concept of what you call 'girl math.'

It started when you walked into the small crowded bar near the Quantico building where the team had decided to meet up after a particularly satisfying arrest.

You strutted into the room in a pair of gorgeous, expensive-looking shoes, and of course, Penelope had to comment on it.

"Oh my God, Y/N," the blonde practically squealed as she pulled you into a hug, "You look even more gorgeous than usual—I love, love, love those shoes!"

You let out a soft laugh as you joined the rest of the team at the table with a quick greeting. "Thanks, Pen, they were actually pretty cheap," you reply, "I got 'em at Bloomingdales."

"Really?" JJ asked, joining in on the conversation, "Were they having a sale?"

"Nope, but they were only $156," you answer.

Spencer raised his brows in surprise, "You think $156 is a cheap price for one pair of shoes?"

"Mhm," you hum as you take a drink that Luke hands you, "It's girl math."

"Come again?"

"Girl math," you clarify, standing closer to him so that he can hear you over the loud music.

Spencer leans towards you instinctively, genuinely curious about whatever 'girl math' was.

"So, basically, these shoes cost $156, right?" you say as he nods along, "But they're comfortable and cute, plus they go with like four different outfits, which means I'll be wearing them a lot. In the coming month, I'll probably wear them, like, 10 maybe 15 times. Which means that they actually only cost me around 10 to 15 dollars—you know, if you divide 156 by the amount of times I wear them."

"But you don't pay for the shoes in installments," Spencer replied in confusion, "And your shoes aren't a car, the amount you walk in them doesn't depreciate their value like mileage would a car."

You shrug as you take another swig of your drink. "But this way, I make myself feel better about spending $156 on shoes," you reply with a grin.

"So it's a form of consolation?" he replied with a small grin playing on his lips.

You roll your eyes as you give him a soft shove, "Shut up, Dr. Reid."

Spencer lets out a laugh at your playful eye roll.

"Well, either way, you do look nice in them," he said.

"You sayin' I don't usually look nice?" you teased, leaning even closer to him.

The close proximity suddenly made him realize the rest of the team had magically vanished from the table.

(Luke and Penelope had managed to drag JJ and Emily to the dance floor, while Matt, Tara, and Rossi were making conversation with the bartender.)

"Silence, really, doc?" you continued, feigning a hurt expression, "I'm hurt."

"I—I—What, no!" Spencer quickly replied, turning back to you, "That's not what I—what I mean was you look nicer than usual—not that you don't usually look nice or anything—"

You laughed, throwing your head back just a little, as you stopped him from digging himself an even deeper grave. "Calm down, Spence, I was joking."

You put down the now empty glass and grabbed his arm. "C'mon, you need to loosen up, let's dance."

Spencer let you drag him to the dance floor, where he pointedly ignored JJ and Emily's surprised faces as well as Luke and Penelope's eyebrow wiggles.

He was never going to hear the end of this.

[cardboardheartss]

Tyla D1 Chart Analysis

Tyla is a Bharani Nakshatra; so she is a Venus girlie, which is why when people always mention Tyla they always mention her visuals. Tyla also has a Shatabhisha Ascendant and Uranus, and Purva Bhadra Venus, all sideral Aquarius placements.

This makes her COMPLETELY unique and easily makes her stand out really well in social/group settings; but in this context, it's her in the music industry and her concepts/promotion techniques.

The placements in her chart truly do resonate with Tyla because she was truly born to be in the public eye! Her beauty, talent, hard work, and dedication!! She is killing it!!

Now with her Bharani Nakshatra, which is the same as NEWJEANS as well, these two artists truly are breakthrough artists who both had a delay in their careers but they finally got their chance to shine and surprisingly love each other as well!!

Tyla has a Bharani Rahu, Moon, and Aswini Mars! She is passionate about her singing and dancing! We all have seen her dances and her energy on stage… I mean just look at her!

Another thing I would like to point out is how all her dances are quite fast-paced and require a certain amount of energy to actually do… along with hard practice because you also have to focus on footwork and strengthen lower body movement.

Here in South Africa, we always say “The aim is not to sweat.”

When we dance, we tend to just enjoy the music, feel the beat, and just go with the flow! hence why when you come across a video of South African kids dancing or TikTok trends, people barely sweat! We just have fun and relax!!

Here are links to some videos :

For Tyla, she is one of the few figures we have representing South Africa as a whole, in a completely positive light! She is constantly praised by us for raising our flag up high.

This was all possible thanks to one specific placement in her chart that stands out which is her Rohini (Taurus) Part of Fortune (PoF) in the 4H, in astrology the 4H represents home, native land/roots and Tyla basically promotes our country every single day lol.

Her placement lands right directly on South Africa’s 11H Rohini Stellium too! This emphasizes her being unapologetically proudly South African and sharing it with the world!

And surprisingly enough… Tyla has no negative hard aspects with her Saturn placements.

Tyla has her Purva Phalguni Jupiter (Leo), this could mean that she has luck in terms of building partnerships and getting brand deals too! Many brand deals would like to work with Tyla but it seems she is very picky in terms of her choices as well!

What made me giggle is the aspect of Jupiter square PoF because South Africans were begging Tyla to avoid advertising products that are already expensive or just any South African product because they knew that the companies will increase their prices.

mind you those go-slo crisps you see are usually R5, and that is REALLY cheap here, mainly when you buy them from a corner store. Surprisingly after the music video for ‘Jump’ dropped, this well known store, in the screenshot is the one store that high to high-middle class citizens shop. This company NEVER sells “corner store” products in their stores lol!

Tyla has a 9H Vishakha Ketu (Libra), and Ketu in Vedic astrology represents detachment I would like to point out that Tyla once mentioned that she had no interest in going to university, but she would have only gone there to study engineering because it brings in a lot of money lol! I can’t find the interview now but I will get it soon!!

OHHH! Another thing I would like to mention is that Ketu also represents the body and Rahu represents the head. Tyla is obsessed with wearing tiger prints! and Vishakas representative animal is a TIGER! Her name branding always has a tiger claw too!!

Aswini/Bharani placements are also known to have scars/markings and I, an Aswini ascendant, have a teardrop-shaped birthmark right beneath the corner of my eye! And Tyla has a Rahu In Bharani and she does her own DIY scar on her eyebrow too!

Tyla has a Anuradha MC and a Jyeshtha Pluto (Scorpio) in her 10H since Scorpio is ruled by Mars, and her Mars is in her 3H, I would not be suprised to see if she would suddenly release a new album with a completely different sound and concept. Since MC is how we’re seen by the public, i do not know if anyone has noticed this but Tyla has a really alluring energy/aura and this placement will also attract a lot of jealousy… so i hope shes careful!!

She has a Purva Ashadha Mercury and Chiron (Sagittarius), her Mercury placement in the 11H makes so much sense because she is spoken a lot about on International social media. She is literally popular, hence why I am doing this post because she got majority votes lol! Tyla is also known for her South African accent too and she does not shy away from speaking that way too!

Chiron being there could mean she could’ve experienced issues with past friendships or connections, and with Sagittarius being there could also mean she could not enjoy life overseas and would rather stay in South Africa instead. Another issue that could come along are hate comments, i am going to need troll accounts to log off and stop causing people in the public eye mental distress.

Finally, Tyla has a Shravana Sun and Neptune in her 12H, and 12H in vedic represents foriegn lands so Tyla has to accept that she may have to relocate overseas for good! This placement also makes Tyla a really calculated women who really knows her ways to navigate around this world too!Tyla could also be a homebody and enjoy relaxing and recharing her energy too! These placements could mean she also has an interest in the occult/tarot and would also excel a lot in that too!!

Overall, Tyla is ONE LUCKY GIRL! A literal 10/10 too! Wishing her thee best of luck and may she continue to make us, South Africa proud and continue raising our flag up high!

South Africa To The World! 🇿🇦

If you made it this far! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it and learned something new about my country lol!😉🫂

[iluvprettygirls]

My Studying Plans; As an Accounting Major!

Before Class

Read the book before lectures: It helps you understand what the teacher is talking about, and how they connect the ideas together.

Look over your homework & notes for references and reminders.

Organize your backpack! Noting better than a clean and organized backpack to set the mood for the day!

Set a Daily Goal! What do you want to achieve today in each class? What concepts do you want to be more knowledgeable about today?

Arrive Early! It gives you extra time to prepare your materials and you’re more likely to stay engaged.

During Class

Always go! You will miss a concept, and getting a classmate's notes isn’t the same.

Stay fully focused! A proper professor wants you to pass, and your time is all that they want.

A tip for focusing is to pretend that you really care about what the professor is talking about! Pretend it's about your favorite subject.

Ask questions during class! No one will judge you too hard, I promise. It will help you close the gap in between ideas and concepts that you are confused about.

Get a notebook for notes! (Funny statement I know!) I mean get you a notebook that you don't mind writing sloppily in, cause you might have to write fast. My old classmate used to sloppily write in her notebook, and then during study hall she would make it more organized and visually appealing (she was later the salutatorian!)

Ask questions right after class! Usually this is the time where you ask the smaller questions that can be answered in a short amount of time, the teacher doesn’t mind answering these I promise.

After Class

Finding a place to study! Notice what stimulates you to study, is it the food court? A study room? Personally I like to study around other people, and being alone makes me go on my phone.

Visit teachers during office hours! Not only will this give you clarifications, but this will also help you in the long run with developing relationships with your teachers! If they know you, they are likely to give you project extensions, bumped grades, etc.

“It’s harder to fail the students I’ve come to know.”

Schedule! All of the subjects that I will study today and the next day, make it a simple little checklist!

Studying Method

30/15 Method! A method where you study for 30 minutes followed by a 15 minute break! Continue the intervals until study time is over.

Drink water or Matcha! This is a rule for myself, matcha boosts my mood and always makes me feel more productive, so I’ll stay engaged!

When playing music- make sure that it isn’t too loud so that you can think! Make a playlist full of calming instrumentals so that you can stay off your device! Get a cheap pair of pretty headphones.

Strict No Procrastination! Ban your phone from the study area, you will get distracted (you can look during the 15 mins)

Study at most 3 objectives in a studying session!

Study from general topics to specific topics!

Use studying sites! Sites that turn topics into a game work best for me (ex. Kahoot, Quizlet)

Use your hands! Write on a whiteboard or a notebook which gives you a better chance of remembering than typing.

After Studying!

Enjoy yourself! Have a light snack, go for a walk, a small 7 minute stretch, and visit the campus gym! Anything to reward your behavior pretty girl!

@iluvprettygirls

[quasi-normalcy]

Which Star Trek series should you start with?

The Original Series: Advantages: + The one that started it all + Has some sophisticated and socially conscious science fiction that has held up exceptionally well + The lead characters all have really good chemistry and fun to see play off of one another + It's what most people probably think of when you say Star Trek (together with TNG) Disadvantages: - It can feel very dated and kind of sexist, particularly in its treatment of women - The sci-fi and social commentary may have held up, but damn it, the special effects really haven't - When TOS is bad, it's really, really bad.

The Animated Series: Advantages: + Basically just more TOS. Disadvantages: - Basically just more TOS, but substituting extremely cheap animation for bad special effects

The Next Generation: Advantages: + Probably the most popular one at this point + The crew is full of interesting characters and they're fun to spend time with + Just really smart people solving Space Mysteries + Socialist space utopia + Geordi-And-Data! + Lots of cool sci-fi concepts and social commentary + It's what most people probably think of when you say Star Trek (together with TOS) Disadvantages: - Although not in the same way as TOS, it can feel dated at times, particularly in terms of its treatment of women and it's near complete refusal to acknowledge queerness - Without wanting to bias viewer opinion, the first season is widely considered to be pretty bad - The series makes no bones about the fact that the socialist space utopia is better than every other society that has ever existed and will reiterate this point over and over again

Deep Space Nine: Advantages: + The most popular Trek series on Tumblr + Has a complete story arc, as well as arcs for all of its characters, including the extremely minor ones + Plain, simple, Garak. The humble tailor. + Garashir, if you're into that + Seriously has a really sophisticated treatment of things like post-colonial politics, anthropology, worldbuilding, and the horrors of warfare + Just the characters in general + Is the only Star Trek prior to the 2010s to even look meaningfully at queer representation Disadvantages: - Has an absolutely massive inferiority complex with respect to TNG and this drives a few poor writing decisions that seemingly exist just to poke the Socialist Space Utopia in its eye - Introduces a space religion and then just slowly turns it into Christianity with the numbers filed off - Seems to think that sexual harassment is just a quirky eccentricity - There's no women in its writers' room, and frankly it shows

Voyager: Advantages: + Probably the clearest instance of found family in space + Lots of really good episodes + Lots of fun new characters + Strong female role models + "Set a course...for home." Disadvantages: - Continuity? I never knew her! - Probably about 90% of Trek's reputation for technobabble comes from this one series - Even less queerness than TNG. - Only like...3 characters actually get arcs. - The first few seasons lean very hard into bullshit fake "Native American" spiritualism with one of the characters - How do these guys have warp drive but can't find any water?

Enterprise: Advantages: + Chronologically the first series + 90% less technobabble + The only series to plausibly frame our heroes as astronauts...on some kind of...star trek. + Still has probably the best production values of any series + Makes alien cultures of the week feel somehow richer and deeper than other series + Faith of the Heart is good, fuck you. Disadvantages: - Oh my god, the decon scenes - Seriously, if you've ever wondered what a "sexy" series written by a 14 year old boy who's only ever seen a bit of scrambled softcore porn on late-night cable would be like, this is the show for you - Somehow feels more sexist and racist than the show from the '60s - Seriously, the POC characters mostly exist to fill seats on the bridge; the women constantly have to undress themselves - Hellooooo, Bush II-era political analogies - Scott Bakula is a good actor but you wouldn't know it from this series - In season 3, they add a tambourine beat to Faith of the Heart and ruin it

Discovery: Advantages: + Noticed the lack of queer characters in the first 50 years of Star Trek canon and decided to make up for lost time + Seriously, the "Bury Your Gays" tally for this series is like...negative two + Just incredible representation in general + Some really good science fiction plots, particularly in later series + Some really fun, memorable characters + It's still running, so it has an active fandom on Tumblr Disadvantages: - Makes Elon Musk out to be one of the great visionary geniuses of history - Not really representative of Star Trek as a whole - The series swerves wildly in tone because of constant, behind-the-scenes churn in the writers' room - Offputtingly grimdark first season - Let's be honest, none of the season-long arcs have actually had satisfying conclusions - Half the cast feels like it's just there for exposition and to be killed for cheap drama

Picard: Advantages: + Has the best dramatic acting of any Star Trek series by a fair margin + Has the best musical score of any Star Trek series + Introduces a whole crew of fascinating new characters + Introduces all kinds of fascinating transhumanist concepts + AGNES. JURATI. Disadvantages: - You know all of those fascinating new characters that I mentioned? Yeah, it unceremoniously gets rid of all of them to bring back the old TNG gang. - You know that all of those fascinating transhumanist concepts that I mentioned? Yeah, it gets rid of those too so that to give us some generic action - Oh my god, someone teach the set designers to operate a fucking light switch - Grimdark - Nossssstalgia - Each season is basically unrelated to every other season - Depends so heavily on TNG that its final season is basically unwatchable if you haven't already seen a 30-year-old TV series

Lower Decks: Advantages: + It has probably the most efficient storytelling that I've ever seen; seriously, it's incredible how much it can fit into a half hour episode + It has a bunch of delightful, archetypical characters you get to know and love + You like hanging out with these people + The ship is kind of crap and you will learn to love it that way. + Basically a sitcom version of TNG. + Has a big fandom on Tumblr Disadvantages: - The art style is pretty Rick & Morty-ish - It takes most of its first season to really strike a good balance between being a sitcom and being a Star Trek series - The main character, Mariner, is kind of unlikable for the first season or so (she gets better) - Lots of callbacks to other series (though always either incidental or clearly explained) - Given that it's the first Star Trek sitcom, the comedy is honestly kinda the weakest part? Subjective I know.

Prodigy: Advantages: + Absolutely gorgeous to look at; the most visually stunning Star Trek by quite a ways + Lots of fun new characters on a cool ship + Gives you clear on-boarding notes to the Star Trek franchise if you're watching it for the first time + Can be watched on its own, but also works as a direct sequel to Voyager and a prequel to Picard (making both of them retoractively better, in fact) + Kind of like the Clone Wars or Rebels of the Star Trek universe, I guess? + Found family in space! The next generation! + Soon to be running on Netflix, so if you already have a Netflix subscription, you don't need to pay for another service + Written for a younger audience. Not necessarily an advantage, but nice if you happen to like family friendly animation or YA. Disadvantages: - *sigh* You basically need to pirate it. Thanks, Paramount. - Has a second season that we may or may not ever actually get to see even through piracy. Thanks, Paramount. - Isn't airing on the same streaming service as all of the other ones. Thanks, Paramount

Strange New Worlds: Advantages: + Basically what the original series would be if it were released today, rather than 57 years ago; all of the cool, socially consciousness sci-fi adventure, none of the weird 60s sexism + Fun, awesome characters you get to like spending time with right away + Incredible visuals + Nifty sci-fi concepts, mostly without the 90s-style technobabble Disadvantages: - A huge cast with only ten episodes a season, so many of them feel underdeveloped - Unfortunately, a bunch of its characters are younger versions of the characters from The Original Series, and they hog most of the spotlight; and the characters whose futures aren't locked in stone are kind of treated as disposable - In general, it needs to spend less time being a prequel, and more time being its own thing - "What if Starfleet ran into the Xenomorphs from Alien?" "Well, they'd probably kill them." "Okay, let's spend several episodes on this."

[miserycanary]

MISSION: LOVE KILL  ᡣ𐭩 [trailer]

pairings: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & fem!reader

synopsis: the trailer to my very first full-length series set in a soulmate AU. 

pairings: (applies to future parts) angst, smut, fluff, mutual pining, misunderstandings, rivals to lovers to rivals, featuring Ghost's inability to communicate, graphic mentions of violence, might hint to sexual violence, BARELY PUT TOGETHER, torture, one bed trope, i-will-wait-for-you trope, loving-you-is-like-breathing trope, slowburn (unless I get bored and rush this), poor poor attempt in crack, will add more as we go on

The subtle searing pain on the back of his neck is enough reason for Ghost to hate the idea of soulmates existing. It wasn’t just the fact that he has lived up to his 30s feeling like a fire wasp is buzzing under his skin, it was that the government fully developed their system with pairs in mind. You mean to tell him that he has to have found his partner—who’s probably cities or even continents away—just so that he could fucking own property? Utter fucking bullshit, he calls it. 

‘Nutjobs! The lot of them’

It was also the fact he had to watch his mum’s so-called soulmate almost beat them up to death each day. How could someone whose single purpose in life is to torment them be his mother’s soulmate? Fate either has a weird take on the concept of love and the whole shenanigan or it’s fucking wicked. Either way, the S-word has left a bad taste in his mouth—and memory. He would rather die, not having property—or anything really—to his name if it means that he wouldn’t comply to the fucking standards of pairs. 

Or so he thought because, once again, life is fucking wicked like that. 

When he first broke the news that he would be retiring from the army, he expected his future days ahead full of smooth-sailing lounging. Maybe a cup of tea in hand or even some biscuits if he was feeling fancy. Imagine his shocked face when he inquired with a real-estate agent to finally have something to call home, no longer needing to stay by some cheap hotel with what his little pay could afford, that he cannot fucking do that! 

“Yeah, this would be good. Really nice stuff here,” Ghost gruffs. “Yeah? Well, let’s get started then. Um, here are the paperworks that you need to fill out. Uhh, you just need to input your government code and your partner’s. It is policy that you bring your pair in with you when it comes to legal documents, but I’m sure that we could make an exception for our veteran here,” the agent smiles; one that Ghost did not reciprocate. “I ain’t got a missus with me. Haven’t found them yet.” 

It was a simple explanation, not wanting to dwell too much on his reasons. Before he could even take the papers in his hand, the man retracts. Confusion etched on Ghost’s face while pity is on the man’s. “Oh, I am really sorry but you are legally required to have a partner before you could own property—or anything for that matter.” Ghost looked this agent for a good few minutes, anticipating the ‘sike’ that he desperately wishes to hear but only dead silence echoes. “Surely you could, say, make an except for a veteran?” he nervously chuckles out, trying to weasel his way into a fucking home. Nothing. Dead fucking silence that’s heavy with pity. Ghost loathes it.

Without even saying a word, he turns his back and starts walking towards the car he rented today, because you can’t even own a car in this government! He should have flagged it as weird when the lady in the car shop insists that he should rent first before buying something. So, now he sits in the dingy bar that Soap has dragged him into after he informed the force that he would not be settling anytime soon. After explaining his circumstance, he expected them to react like he did before, but no. They all replied like they knew this. Even saying stuff like, “you didn’t know?” Of course he didn’t! It wasn’t like Ghost was invested in property or anything for that matter while he was serving. All he cared about was surviving each day, and that is it. 

“Aye, cheer up, lad. Life ain’ that bad. Ya’ just gotta get them lassie, and all yer problems would go away,” the Scot on his right drunkenly offers advice—a shit one at that. Did he really think Ghost hasn’t stepped foot on every land they got deployed with heavy hopes that he’ll find whoever he needs to find there? He fucking hates it here. He should have not retired this early if he knew this would happen. Now he needs to go around the world and search for the lassie whose presence—or her lack thereof—is the root of all his problems. 

If finding a needle in a haystack is hard, imagine finding a lady that’s probably moving countries as he speaks with Soap. “Yeah, like that’s fucking easy,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes before lifting his mask just enough to down his shot of whiskey. The fiery burn of the alcohol down his throat is nothing compared to the one on his neck. He would rather have it cut at this point than to go on about this miserable lifetime any longer.

“Should I just cut and peel it off?” he mumbles to no one in particular; probably to Fate if that shit is listening. Seeing that no one else in the rundown bar is really paying attention to him, Soap takes the honour in replying to him instead. “According tae what I’ve seen, jobby pain is hee haw compared tae th' pain ye will feel in yer heart. Doctors say that th' pain goes tae th' heart instead while tripling”. Unprompted, Ghost curses like a fucking sailor. Saying stuff that will probably get him on the government's watchlist if he wasn’t part of the military serving this goddamn country. He risks his life daily and this is what he gets? Ungrateful bastards.

With a slam of the glass on the mahogany table, he stands up with a new profound determination. “Fuck it, I’m finding that missus if it’s the last thing that I do”. “Eyy, that’s the spirit, matie,” Soap drunkenly encourages him, which should have been the first red flag on this idea. Any idea supported by Soap is an immediate botch.

Well, what could go wrong? He’s retired anyway. 

Turns out, many could go wrong. Well, here’s to the fucking shit-show of his life.

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: please give this love!!

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open!

⟢ taglist is open!! @hotvinimon

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

[rahuratna]

Nanami Kento: Relationship Headcanons (now a fic), Part 8

Contents: relationship, establishing feelings, angst, first arguments.

Warning: MDNI!! Content warnings will be given for the relevant chapters. But before that ... the angst.

Your assurances that you had enjoyed what had happened in your office sparked something new between the two of you. Every time Kento saw you, his fingers were seeking out yours. His hand was always on your waist or lower back, sometimes unconsciously. You were beginning to learn just how much he was a man of restraint, how he reigned in so many of his natural instincts on a daily basis. He seemed to be wearing the armour that the world demanded of him, but as time passed, that same emotional apparel was shed, bit by bit, when he was in your presence.

The concept was so foreign to him, that Kento seemed to be surprised by how he had no control over those aspects of his personality that you brought to the surface.

For instance, on the evening that you had your first argument with him.

He had returned from a mission, covered head to toe in the foulest combination of sludge and rancid water, his suit ruined beyond repair and various bruises already blooming on his skin.

It had been a solo mission and several higher grade spirits had been present. Although not badly injured, Kento was exhausted, sore and in a foul mood over the lack of detail in his prior briefing. Showered, dressed in a mismatched set of clothes borrowed from Gojo, purplish discoloration spreading up from his collar, he paced your office.

"Is it too much to ask that they simply confirm mission parameters? That they provide us with updated blueprints? That we get back-up in case of emergencies? Oh, don't get me wrong. I've always known how little our lives mean, how they spend us like cheap currency, but this... this is just shoddy and lax and poorly planned - "

You brewed him tea as he ranted, a certain heaviness, a razor edge that dug into some deep part of you, furrowing your brow as you glanced back at him. He was right, of course. The rarely seen higher-ups often used their sorcerers like pawns in chess games, sometimes losing sight of the value of human life from their rarefied strata.

You waited for the tea to reach just the right temperature, choosing your words carefully. In a pause in his speech, you asked the question you already knew the answer to.

"Do you really think it's a coincidence?"

He stopped, facing the far wall.

"Why do you mean?"

"Do you think I don't know what happened on Takuma's mission?"

Takuma Ino, a young sorcerer, going so far as to deny himself a grade one sorcerer class unless his recommendation came from Kento, had been the victim of similar incompetence just last week. Kento turned to you now, and his expression was carefully blank in a way that made you want to grab his shoulders and shake him.

"Ah. You know about that?"

"Of course I know. You called an intervention. You were angry, and you made them look incompetent. This is retaliation for that, Kento, however you look at it. They can't interfere to the extent where your life may be in danger, but look at what they did."

His body was now rigid, his mouth set in a tense, stubborn line.

"And what did you expect me to do? Sit back and let them get away with placing young sorcerers in danger?"

The teaspoon clattered into the saucer as you spun around to face him fully.

"What? Why would I ever question your need to do that?"

"Well, it certainly sounded like a criticism."

"That's because it was a criticism. But not of your intention, Kento. Are you being wilfully obtuse?"

"Then what did you expect me to do?"

"Handle it better. Are you telling me you don't know how their egos would have been affected? That's you didn't know how that could have backfired?"

"Am I now to be responsible for the failings of others? Am I suppose to pander to these ... these ..."

It was testament to his rage that he couldn't even come up with adequate words that would convey his disgust for these people. You closed your eyes and passed a hand over your brow.

"No. I don't expect you to do that. Never. But Kento, sometimes your temper does get the better of you. You do make rash decisions, especially if it's on matters that are ... very personal to you."

You knew, of course. Once he'd mentioned the name Haibara, you'd looked through the records. The crisp, clinical phrases on the yellowing pages of the autopsy report spoke volumes on what had been omitted.

The range of emotions that crossed his face surprised you, almost making you wish you could take the words back. But it had been the truth. He looked taken aback, the surprise chased shortly by anger, and then a flash of something deeply pained, a small twist of the knife.

"If that's how you feel, then - "

"Don't finish that sentence, Kento."

Your voice is quiet, firm, and he actually pauses.

"Because I haven't finished what I was going to say. Please listen. You took that decision, and I understand your anger. I understand it completely. But you did it with no sense of self-preservation whatsoever. Do you think I don't know how little you think of yourself when others are in danger?"

You took a steadying breath, willing your voice to remain even, to reign in the emotion that threatened to roughen the edges of what you had to say to him.

"You had every right to stand up for Takuma. But in future, if you want to do things like that, at your own expense, run it by me first. Because it seems like I'm the only one who has your best interests in mind. You certainly don't."

"My best interests? I - "

He seemed at a loss in terms of how to respond to this. His jaw worked in furious frustration, but then he stopped, strode to the door and flung it open, his heavy footsteps carrying him away from the office, away from you.

You released a breath you had been holding and clutched the edge of the table, a horrible vice closing around your throat. You had always hated confrontation, and this was no exception. But this time, you hadn't been able to help yourself. It was as if something tenacious, something steel-clad and oblivious to your fear had risen to the surface. You couldn't have let him go without hearing what you really thought, even if you wanted to.

And now, you were left to face the consequences. Sinking into your chair, you let your head drop wearily into your palms.

Is this what caring for someone meant? Was this the bereft ache that you were supposed to feel when he was angry, when he was hurt, when he was gone? How had you gone through your whole adult life and still found yourself so ill-equipped to deal with the feelings he left scattered around you? Feelings that you now gathered up and hoarded in a protective layer around yourself, clinging so desperately to the idea that what you said hadn't been wrong.

Had it?

Someone was approaching the office and you straightened hurriedly, taking a deep breath, attempting some form of composure before you had to face your professional demands.

Kento strode back in, as precipitously as he had left, this time closing the door behind him and locking it. You stared at him, dumbfounded, steeling yourself for what he had to say. He regarded you in silence, and you took him in, fully this time.

His eyes were slightly red-rimmed, raw looking. The ugly abrasions stood out more starkly against his skin. His hair was completely out of its usual style, falling softly around his cheeks. Those same cheeks that you had traced with such tenderness now seemed so shadowed, so gaunt. His plain grey work shirt, the spare he'd kept at the Tech, clashed with the black trackpants that Gojo had provided, lending his dignified bearing a distinct pathos. There was a tender, bruised quality to the set of his mouth, a vulnerability in his glance that you had never seen before.

You realised, then, that in his own way, he was letting you see it, all of it.

Wordlessly you held your arms out to him and he came forward, almost child-like in his direct approach. He got down on one knee and his head drooped slowly into your lap, a heavy sigh escaping him as your embrace enclosed his shoulders. You held him tightly against your chest, feeling the solidity and power in his frame, wondering how long it had been since anyone had leant him their strength.

Time passed, your time at work. You thought of your employers, sitting in comfort while this man fought with every silent breath for some semblance of justice, for something good in this world. You breathed in the warm scent of his scalp and held him tighter as shadows lengthened in the room. If your time and livelihood were also currency to them, then let it be spent like this.

He apologizes for his outburst, of course, and this time there is a wariness there, as if he is aware of just how much he has shown and cannot believe that you will actually accept it. He avoids coming to your office, stating that he distracted you from your work enough with the issues he brings and wanted to keep your meetings strictly outside of work, or in the break room, where your interaction would be one of forced professionalism.

If he had been any other kind of man, you might have found it frustrating. There was something else here, though, some subtle message (maybe one that even he was unaware of), an indication that something needed to be proven. You were determined to rise to the occasion.

And so, you made your plans.

You called him one evening, on a Thursday. You had not seen him at work. You decide to forgo messaging, because you missed his voice. He picked up almost immediately, speaking your name, his tone slightly surprised, but warm.

"Kento, I need to know something."

"Yes, dear?"

"Are you busy this Sunday?"

"No. I was going to ask you to spend the day with me."

"Well, I'm asking you now."

"To spend the day together?"

"Yes."

He pauses and a soft chuckle reaches your ear.

"Does it make a difference who asks?"

"Yes, it does. For this Sunday."

"And why is that?"

"Because I've made plans for us."

"You have?"

"Absolutely. You can't always be the one planning our dates."

"I see nothing wrong with that. But, pardon my curiosity, where are we going?"

"It's a surprise, Kento."

"Oh no."

"What do you mean 'oh no'?"

"Nothing at all."

"Explain."

"A slip of the tongue, my darling."

"A slip of the tongue, my foot."

"And a most delightful foot it is."

"Stop slithering your way out of things."

"I take offense to that word."

"Anyway, I'll give you a hint. Since I'm an exceptionally kind person."

"I'm eager to hear it."

You clear your throat.

"Dress for the outdoors."

"Are you sure about that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, when you say that to me, I imagine tough trousers, hiking boots, a walking stick ... "

"Oh no. None of that."

"Ah. So you mean outdoors, but your kind of outdoors."

"My kind?"

"Lazing in the sunshine and eating grapes."

You let out an incredulous laugh.

"You're awfully cheeky today, aren't you?"

His voice immediately takes on a lower, smoky tone.

"Am I going to be punished for that?"

Oh no, you don't, sir.

"Yes. I'll punish you. With a large quantity of grapes."

There is a short silence.

"Hmm."

"Aren't you going to ask me what I'm going to do with those grapes?"

"Maybe I'll wait for Sunday, after all."

Sunday comes and you feel both excited and a sense of nervous anticipation. You've never planned a date to this extent before. You've hired a car from the Tech for the day, one of the company cars that are always available for employees. You're aware that you might just be abusing the privilege, but you've never used this particular perk before and you're feeling slightly rebellious.

You've picked the perfect spot for a picnic, in a private piece of land owned by an old family friend. You'd spent many childhood days there when times were better and your mother had still been with you. The land was now cared for by a third party, but you were one of the people who still had access, and you could imagine the place clearly in your mind's eye.

Food, of course, played an important role in this. You'd thought out the menu well in advance and purchased all the ingredients you'd needed the previous day. You were going to prepare his special sandwich, of course, along with a green salad with fresh corn and avocado, onigiri with various fillings, croquettes, marinaded artichokes with parmesan, some of those store-bought honey cakes, coffee jelly, along with a small tribute to your mother's simple favourite, sandwiches with mature cheddar, cucumber and the mint chutney she had taught you the recipe for. Champagne and bottled water would be carried carefully along in the hamper, along with glasses, cutlery and plates.

You'd made sure that you'd woken up early and prepared everything that needed to be made fresh. When it was time, you sent Kento a short message, telling him that you'd fetch him from outside his apartment, and headed there. It had been a while since you had driven, but the muscle memory was there, the steering fluid under your fingers, and you'd re-adjusted in no time. You felt somewhat proud, and confident that today would go off without a hitch.

Kento was waiting on the street corner, and the sight of him momentarily stole the breath from your lungs. The collar of his white shirt showed above a simple, plaid sweater, light colored jeans emphasizing his long legs, rugged brown shoes and his customary watch, glinting from beneath his sleeve, completing the ensemble. There was no sign of the dark glasses and his hair was not slicked back, lending him a relaxed and casual air. As you drew closer, you could see the remaining yellowish traces of bruising against the side of his neck.

His eyes travelled over to the car, and when he spotted you behind the wheel, they softened and creased at the corners, with a warmth that you still couldn't believe was directed at you. He climbed into the passenger seat and your fingers met his, naturally.

"Good morning, handsome."

He coughed and shifted in his seat, still not accustomed to your teasing, but heartfelt compliments.

"Good - well, hello."

His warm grasp was now trailing along your arm, belying the awkwardness of his words, and you laughed.

"Shall we?"

You shifted gear and set the car in motion. Soon, you were out of the city limits, the clear autumn air crisp and warm enough for you both to let down the windows at intervals, taking in the breeze. Kento's hair caught the morning sunlight, the shorter strands at the nape of his neck suddenly, tenderly visible. You want to run your fingers over them, but you knew you'd get a scolding for not paying attention to the road.

He spoke, not taking his eyes off the scenery.

"The other day. In your office."

"Kento. I told you that everything's fine between us."

"I know it is, but there's still something I want to say to you."

"Go ahead."

The effort with which he forms the next words tells you how difficult it is for him to express thoughts like this.

"When you ... held me, I felt ... different. Like something had changed in my life, so profoundly. I felt as if ... a heaviness I had been carrying for so long had lifted a little. When I went home that day, I ... I remembered my friend. I let myself think of him. Of happy times. I've never really been able to do that before."

You're smiling softly and his fingers are tracing the shape of your arm again.

"That's good, right?"

"I think so. For me, that is. But I need to know ... "

"You need to know if those same burdens are not being passed to me, correct?"

He looks at you, and from this angle, you can see something of the wonder in his gaze. You laugh.

"It's already pretty obvious when you're with Yuuji. All that darkness you want to keep away from him. From all the students. I know, Kento. I know the kind of world we live in. I know that you can't protect everyone forever. Those burdens are not yours to give, or take away. At some point, you have to trust that ... it is enough."

"That what is enough?"

Love. That's what you want to say to him. That love is enough to carry you through the worst of what the world has to offer. But you don't. This time and place isn't right. Instead, you turned your eyes briefly to the sun shining through the trees ahead.

"Today is a beautiful day, isn't it?"

"It is."

@tsukimefuku @g-kleran @actuallysaiyan @kentocalls

[txttletale]

can you elaborate on the reasons ? what criticisms do you disagree with?

criticisms i disagree with:

"they character assassinated jane" amiguita there was no character to assisnate.

"they character assassinated dirk" dirk is at his most interesting and likeable ever and is just about the only redeeming thing about these

"they were just written to spite the fans" if true tht would have been Epic, and Based. but they very obviously werent

"its too violent and sexual for cheap shock humour" did you. read homestuck, the web comic? what were you Expecting... also like it or not the sexual content isnt just random or gratuitous it is obviously trying to be a conclusion to the whoel coming-of-age theme of homestuck as a work.

"so-and-so is out of character" homestuck characters are malleable little dolls that can be rearranged to suit the narrative at a whim. this is true about all fictional characters ofc but it is like explicitly textually metaphysically true in homestuck

my criticisms:

the heavy-handed political messaging is fucking tedious and awful and so profoundly of its time in a bad way. its clearly a reaction to trump but it doesnt have anything interesting to say about him or fascism or racism or anything, really, except, um. Cheeto in the white house?. the whole Evil Jane plot is too stupid and contrived for the sake of the satire to take seriously but also its awful satire written by liberals who think fascism as invented in 2016 by the orange man

god can we fucking talk about how fucking embarassing the obama shit is. jesus fucking christ. for a start it's a callback to a running jhoke in homestuck that is straight up just super racist. and they decide to pivot from the joke being 'its funny that theres a black president', which is good, but they pivot it to 'obama seems so heroic and magical now that we're stuck with the Orange Man', which, admittedly, is better than Being Racist, but also sucks shit. he killed people amiguitas.

'post-canon' is cheap bullshit. like, the work makes a big deal about tryng to talk about What Canon Is, without ever acknowledging the concept of, like, IP law. claiming to just be a non-canon continuation like any other when it's made by people with the Official Exclusive Legal Rights just feels hollow and detooths any liberatory/deconstructive potential there. unironically my opinion of it would go up like tenfold if it had been actually published in AO3 instead of just joking about it.

in general i think that all of the attempt to deconstruct fiction or storytelling is rooted in a really weird and flawed model of storytelling. a lot of it seems to be taking an extremely long route to writing something bad on purpose and then saying 'see, if you wrote something like this, it would be bad'. Okay. i like deconstructive collapsing narrative shit in e.g. if on a winter's night a traveller because i think calvino has trenchant and interesting insights about literature and storytelling. i do think hussie also has those but they essentially dropped and explored all of them in homestuck and the epilogues just seem like an attempt to connect ohomstuck's disparate and contradictory approaches to Narrative into one overarching schemata and then crtiique that schemata, which i think is a doomed project that results in little of interest to me.

[lunarmango]

Flickering Lights

Demon Alastor x Human reader fic? ON IT. I'm so siked to make this a series and I hope who reads this enjoys this as much as I do. I wanna get into writing. (I don't write, I draw) and I was thinking of making a longer fic, the details were so hard to piece together. I really enjoy the concept of demon Al with human reader. So here we go!

Word Count: 2k

TW: None for now? Pretty mild stuff haha.

Chapter One: Moving in

New Orleans, Louisiana

1946

Where wandering spirits were said to roam, walk and explore more frequently, being an area where people would find it easier to communicate with them, or so you were told. You were convinced it's utter nonsense to be completely honest. The whole notion of spirits was so far fetched you just couldn't bring yourself to even fathom them. Though not opposed to being proved wrong.

It's been years, saving for a house. Your apartment was small, cheap and far too crowded with furniture and items you just can't let go of. From a suffocating apartment to a house. You were practically buzzing from excitement. Like, literally almost shaking.

A new chapter in your life.

When you walked in, you suck air through your teeth in anticipation, the cool air hitting your teeth invigorating you, fingers fumbling with the old metallic keys that jingled in response, finally able to slot the correct one in the door and push open the dark wood hastily, the hinges swinging and the door practically flying.

You winced at the loud thud when it slammed on the white painted brick wall. Taking a few deep breaths, you decided it was best if you didn't wreck your new house on the first day. You think you would actually cry if you did, and you were not willing to test that theory. Checking the wall where the door hit with a small grimace of anticipation, you close the door behind you, relieved to see the wall is fine, your face relaxing again as you take yet another deep breath through your nose.

House tour!

Kicking off your shoes at the entrance, you begin wandering from room to room, you take in the spacious kitchen and living room. Though it lacked a certain homey touch. But you were aware why. There was no furniture after all. You had a vision for the house. Just had to wait 3 days before you could make it happen and the furniture would arrive. You had big plans, that did not pair well with your lack of patience. You already had multiple shitty sketches of how you roughly wanted each room to look. The furniture is all you need, it'll arrive soon enough. Hopefully.

You're going to need to find a way to pass the time.

First things first, you still haven't explored the upstairs! Running your hand gingerly along the wooden railing as you hop upstairs, the hard floor creaking occasionally under your feet every few steps, you take a sharp left and step into the master bedroom. It was massive. You feel a grin etch at your face as you peek your head inside. You're definitely getting a king sized bed. With a nod you left the room, confident you were going to be a pro napper at least a month within getting your new bed.

You open the door to the bathroom. Spacious enough, room for a decent sized tub and shower. Although you never really saw the point in baths if you wanted to get clean. You step out and look into the spare bedroom. Maybe a potential study? That or the attic. You always were sure that the environment can heavily affect the quality of ones work.

Was such a big house going to make you feel small? Possibly alone? You scoffed to yourself. Who cares when you have such a house?! Expensive too. Ho ho you were going to have fun "subtly" showing off this house to your friends.

With a quick, dismissive peek to the spare room you turn on your heels, going up the stairs to the attic with cautious steps, the worn wooden panels making such loud noises in retaliation to your steps that you were afraid that they would give in. Your hand gently opens the rattly metallic doorknob and open the door, squinting only to see a small switch on the side of the door. You flick it on and hear the buzz of a weak warm light turning on above you, fully illuminating the room the best the small warm light can.

First thoughts? Dusty. Very Dusty. Every box, book and the long desk and chair at the end of the room practically black and gray from the abundance of dust. A sigh escaping your lips, realising just how long you were going to be cleaning for, a task you were not mentally prepared for yet. Making your way to the desk, you approached a large wooden desk, most of the surface blocked by a large panel with knobs, switches, dials and little doodads that slide up and down. The sliding doodads having small, mini light bulbs at the top of each. You look at the corners and edges of the panel, looking for an on switch or something.

Nothing.

It was probably unplugged?

Nevertheless, as foreign as the panel seemed to you, a surge of determination drives through you to figure it out. It seemed expensive. Whoever used this probably cared deeply for it, the text of the brand faded, showing the love and use the panel had been provided with. If it was so well used, you had to figure out just why it was loved so much.

To begin, you had to figure out just what it is. Turning it on seemed like the obvious option.

Crouching under the table to look to where the cables lead, you notice a microphone on the floor. Wrapping your hand just above the flat base of the microphone, feeling the coolness of the metal and the sandy texture of the dust between your skin and the metal, you try to lift it. You were suprised to find your hand faltering slightly at the sheer weight of the microphone, dropping forward onto your knees to provide a better position to pick it up in, using both hands to stand up and set it in front of the panel with more ease. It wasn't that heavy. But you didn't want to drop it. Wasn't this supposed to have headphones...?

Once more, you go down on all fours, looking under the desk, when no sign of somewhere to turn on the panel or headphones appears, you circle round to the back of the desk, finding a wire and an unplugged plug. With a small huff that caused far too much dust to fly in the air, triggering a cough from you. Slotting the plug in the panel above you hums to life and flickers on once more. A small hushed yes emerges from you as you slowly stand up, brushing the dust from your knees, then your hands.

You walk back in front of the desk, flipping some random switches for the hell of it, satisfying metallic clicks and clanks as a result of your tampering. Then proceeding to tap the microphone, you blow on it to rid it of the pesky dust, stepping back to let the dust fall.

You took a moment to appreciate just how expensive this radio setup must have been, so big and complicated it made your mind whirl just trying to decipher what each control did. You brush away some more of the dust from the panel, running your finger between the buttons, trying to look for labels, or some sort of guidance, only to find them worn out, white writing so etched and scratched at on the metallic reddish-brown surface that it was unreadable. A soft smile tugging at your lips in realisation of just how loved this equipment really was.

You’ve seen the basics of what a radio setup should look like, without having to remember the separate into bitty details of the control. Panels, a microphone. Where were the headphones? You look below the desk, bending at an uncomfortable angle to the shelves situated under the left of the desk.

Nothing.

Not like you could broadcast anything even if you wanted to. Why do they use the headphones? To listen to the sound of their own voice? How proud and snobby must one be to love their voice that much? An audible scoff from you. You know you wouldn’t be able to put up with anyone of the sort.

Using both hands, stabilising the microphone properly, you pick it up, with a smart smirk, looking at the empty wall you begin speaking to your imaginary viewers, mocking the accent radio people had to use to the best of your ability. “Hello my dear viewers! Welcome back to my boring ass show, talking about shit that probably serves as background noise” A snicker escapes your lips as your smirks stretches wider in amusement, gently putting the microphone back down.

Eager to make your made up show more believable, you move away from the desk, eyes scanning the worn wooden panels of the floor. Remembering you looking earlier you let out a hefty sigh. Were you really going to spend hard earned money for a few minutes of make-believe mucking about like a child?

Oh definitely.

Lost in thought, still staring at the floor, chuckling in thought a distinct noise snaps you out of the haze of your mind.

Click

You look over your shoulder to the direction of the noise, the desk, trying to place the exact location.

Another click

It was from the panel? You turn back to the panel, looking down on the panel as the clicks increase in frequency, switches being flicked, dials turned. A particular pattern caught your eye being the fact that during the abundance of alterations to the controls of the panel, no knob or slide was altered twice, almost if it was altering itself the clicking now a steady rhythm. What a ridiculous idea, as clueless as you were about the technology you were almost certain it wasn’t that advanced.

The clicks slowly come to a stop, one last slider slowly going upwards to a certain line before it stops completely.

“Eager to hear my voice?” You mutter under your breath, a dial slowly turning, one of your eyebrows quirking up in response. Spirits and ghosts don’t exist.

There’s always a what if.

What if they do exist?

What if you’re the first to fully realise this?

What if you’re living a ghost story?

After all, things moving on their own in the dusty attic of an old house was never a good sign.

Yeah no who were you kidding.

But just to make sure.

You bend at the waist, your lips as inch away from the crosshatched metal of the top of the microphone.

“Can you hear me?” You say in a teasing low purr, holding back a laugh in your lungs, helping to alleviate the tension you’re beginning to feel rising up in you, pressing in on the sides of your head. Jokes always help. Well. Not always. However you can’t exactly help it either.

A flicker of the small light bulbs, emitting a warm light above the sliding controls. You couldn’t help but still be sceptical. Your voice now has a newfound edge, the whole situation making you uncomfortable.

“You- can?”

Another flicker from the same small light bulbs.

A nervous laugh rumbling from your chest.

You had to figure this out, because you wouldn’t put going insane past you. Maybe a break from the attic would be good. Probably buy some headphones. As unsettling as the panel is, having the set incomplete irks you unnecessarily, and it was an enigma you couldn’t help but feel determined to figure out.

[prodbyton]

Pervy wonbin at a party and he fucks you

actually writing a wonbin fic with almost the same concept as this…

but imagine wonbin who’s secretly been eyeing you for a few months. you two had a class together in university, and you had sat next to him first day of the semester when there were no more seats taken. he was quiet around you, and you just assumed he was shy.

he wasn’t usually this quiet, but you made him nervous. the way your perfume was so strong and it was all he could smell for the hour and a half class, and even after you had left the room the scent of you would linger in his nose. he would go to his room, look up your instagram handle and jerk off to your highlights each time.

so when he saw you at this party, in clothes that you didn’t wear in class, he knew he had to have you. the skirt you wore was so short, and he was praying that he could get close enough to you to get you to bend over in front of him. and the top that hugged your tits perfectly, he just wanted to put his hands on them, and his mouth.

after a few shots, you were starting to feel the liquor. everyone in the party had moved to a different area to play beer pong, but you opted on being a moral support for your friends. a warm hand grazed your waist and a soft excuse me left the mystery persons lips as they tried to move next to you. before you could retaliate to the unwanted touching, you realized who the person was.

“wonbin?” you look up confused, not expecting to see the boy at a party like this. he was so quiet next to you in class you wouldn’t think that he’d hang around people this wild.

“y/n!” his voice was almost slurred, and you could tell the both of you definitely had a couple drinks in your systems.

“what are you doing at a party like this?”

“oh yknow… im friends with the host. i’ve never seen you at one of his parties before, what brings you here?” he eyes you, and you suddenly feel shy under his gaze. he didn’t have that soft look to him right now like he usually had. it was dark, and you didn’t know if you liked it.

“free alcohol, hot guys, the usual college party!” you laugh, and he nods along with you before you turn back to watch the game of beer pong in front of you.

getting to the bottom of your cup of vodka redbull, you try to push your way through the crowd of people to get to the kitchen. little did you know, that wonbin was following close behind you. once you were in the kitchen, you finally noticed the long haired boy behind you. truthfully he was checking you out the entire time, the way you walked with so much confidence really entertained him. of course when you turned to see him, he looked away as if he wasn’t even there.

“didn’t know you were following me,” your voice was soft while you looked up at him, and he still had that dark look in his eyes.

“well yeah, wanted to make sure you didn’t get lost. also… we have the good alcohol stored downstairs if you want that instead of this cheap vodka,” his voice lingered and your eyes lit up.

“wait, really?”

“for a pretty girl like you, of course. but i want something in return…”

thats how you ended up in the basement bathroom getting fucked by wonbin.

propped up on the sink counter, holding yourself up by your hands behind you, while he he has a hand on your waist and one around the back of your neck. you moan out, his cock bullying into your cunt with no sign of slowing down. his grip on your waist so tight you’re sure theres going to be a bruise when he lets you go.

his hoodie discarded somewhere on the bathroom floor, leaving him in just a white tank and his pants pooling at his ankles. he had your shirt lifted up so your tits would be on display for him, along with your skirt flipped up and tights ripped so he could see your dripping pussy while he fucked you.

“wonbin… fuck” you cry, one of your hands going to rest where his was on your waist. he swats it away, and you bring it back to its original position of holding you up.

his hand around the back of your neck prevented you from looking anywhere else that wasn’t at him, so your eyes switched from looking at his face to how his cock disappeared inside of you. it was honestly disgusting how lewd this was… fucking this boy you’ve never even had a complete conversation. the sounds of your pussy squelching and skin slapping filling the room, almost as loud as his groans and your whimpers.

“feels good, pretty girl?” his voice was like honey, but you felt like you wouldn’t be able to speak so you just give him a nod. he didn’t like that though, hand around your neck traveling to your face to hold you by your jaw. “words. need words”

his hand around your waist sliding down to pinch your clit with his thumb and index finger. “feels good! feels so good wonbin” voice hoarse, you look at the boy through your teary eyelashes. he lets out a chuckle in satisfaction, picking up his already impossibly fast pace while looking you in the eye.

“good girl, gonna fill this pretty pussy up” still holding you by your face, he leans in to put his mouth on yours. it was wet and sloppy, no real rhythm just teeth clashing and tongue’s colliding. other fingers swirl around your clit making it hard for you to kiss him back.

“gonna cum, wonbin” you moan into his mouth, biting his lip after the words slip out. his fingers add more pressure to your clit, making you lightheaded.

“go ahead and cum, pretty girl. make a mess all over my cock” his words were enough to make you reach your peak, the string in your core finally snapping as your orgasm hits. hands that rested behind you move to pull wonbin closer to you, now chest to chest as you shake under his body.

his own orgasm hits him, your cunt squeezing him so tight to where he could barely move, pumping his seed deep into you with a loud whimper.

the two of you stayed connected for a few minutes, before he pulled out and grabbed some toilet paper to clean you up. you try your best to make yourself look presentable before you go back upstairs, lipstick smudged and mascara running only slightly. thank the universe for waterproof mascara… you think.

“i’ll go get that vodka now,” wonbin is quick to put himself back in his pants and get his hoodie on, slipping out of the bathroom.

can u tell i got carried away with this one? it wasn’t too pervy but i hope you still liked it !!