#and some that are just their anxieties talking

[greengoblinswifey]

Boss’ Obsession—Player 001/Hwang In Ho x Fem!Reader

summary— Young-il’s obsession with you reaches its peak and he takes you in the bathroom in the middle of the night. Based on this request.

warnings— praise kink, Somnophilia, Voyeurism, male masturbation?, oral(f!receiving), choking, mirror play, unprotected sex, creampie.

The poorly lit quarters was silent except for the soft snores and occasional murmurs of the others. The toll the games took was felt even in sleep, but Young-il’s mind was far from the anxiety of the competition. His dark eyes remained locked on you, his body leaning against the cold wall as you lay a few feet away, curled on your side, breathing softly.

He couldn’t stop himself, he never could. Since the moment he first saw you, you’d been a constant pull, something he couldn’t explain but didn’t bother questioning. You were his obsession. And now, in the quiet of the night, his infatuation consumed him.

A low moan rumbled in his chest as he shifted against the wall, his hand drifting lower. His palm pressed against his hard cock through his pants, seeking some relief as his eyes remained glued to you. He moved slowly, his teeth digging into his bottom lip to muffle any sound. The way your lips parted in sleep, the outline of your body under the thin blanket—it was too much.

But before he could finish, he clenched his jaw and stopped himself. Not like this. Not without you.

Getting up, he crossed the space quietly, crouching beside you. His fingers brushed your shoulder, a gentle nudge. “Wake up,” he whispered, his voice husky and low, “Come with me.”

“Young-il?” you murmured, voice heavy with sleep.

“Shh,” he said, helping you up. “We need to talk. Just come.”

Though confusion flickered across your face, you nodded, trusting him. He guided you toward the huge door, the guards barely sparing a glance as he led you out. You were so confused but your groggy state prevented you from even questioning it.

Once in the bathroom, he locked the door behind you both, the sound of the latch clicking echoing in the small space. You turned to him, still half-asleep but now more aware of something in his gaze.

“What’s going on?” you asked, your voice soft.

“You,” he said simply, stepping closer. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Fuck, not even for a second.”

Your breath hitched as he crowded into your space, his hands finding your waist.

“Young-il.”

“I mean it,” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours, “You’re all I see. All I want.”

You tilted your head, your lips brushing his, and that was all it took. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you flat against him as his lips claimed yours. The kiss was fierce, needy, a testament to the obsession he had with you.

His hands roamed, finding the hem of your shirt and sliding beneath to grope your tits. You gasped against his lips, your fingers threading through his dark hair as he pressed you against the sink.

“You’re mine,” he rasped, his lips trailing down your neck. “Say it.”

“I— I’m yours,” you whispered, your nails digging into his shoulders as his kisses grew rougher, more desperate.

“Good girl,” he murmured, lifting you onto the edge of the sink as the room filled with nothing but the sound of your labored breaths.

Young-il’s hands trembled slightly as they gripped your waist. He had every intention of taking his time with you, savoring every moment, but the way you looked at him, slightly innocent, yet full of that same unrelenting desire he felt, had him weak.

His lips crashed against yours again, his control slipping. “I wanted to be patient,” he murmured between kisses, his voice rough and low. “I really did. But I can’t, not tonight.”

You barely had a moment to respond before his hands were on the waistband of your pants, tugging them down with one swift motion. The sound of fabric tearing filled the small space as he discarded your underwear with little care. Your breath hitched, both in surprise and need.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he muttered, his dark eyes devouring every inch of you. He sank to his knees, his hands sliding up your thighs as he pushed them apart. His touch was firm, possessive, and it sent a shiver up your spine.

“Young-il,” you whispered, your fingers finding their way into his hair.

“I’m going to make you feel so good. You won’t think about anything else but me.” he said, looking up at you.

Before you could respond, his mouth was on you, his tongue moving with purpose and precision. The pleasure was overwhelming, his lips and tongue working as if he was starving and you were the only thing that could satisfy his primal hunger. You bit down on your lip, trying desperately to keep quiet, but it was impossible. A soft moan escaped, and his eyes flicked up to meet yours, full of satisfaction and determination.

“That’s it,” he murmured against your pussy. “Don’t hold those moans. I want to hear you.”

Your hands tightened in his hair as he ravished your wetness, his pace relentless. The heat building inside you was unbearable, your breaths coming faster and more uneven. His grip on your thighs tightened, his thumb caressing your clit as his tongue slipped inside your hole.

“You taste so good,” he said between licks, his voice laced with desire. “You’re so perfect, all mine.”

The praise sent you over the edge. With a sharp gasp, your body tensed, and then the wave of release hit you, leaving you trembling, breathless and creaming.

Young-il didn’t stop until you were shuddering against his tongue, completely worn out. When he finally stood, his lips were swollen, and his smirk was self-satisfied. “Told you,” he said, brushing a strand of your curls from your face. “You’d forget everything but me.”

“Cocky much?” you said as you let out a shaky laugh, still catching your breath.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Only when it comes to you angel.”

You were still swooning from the intensity of how he ate you out but his hands on your hips told you he wasn’t finished. “I can’t wait anymore,” he murmured. His lips crashed onto yours as his fingers worked quickly, freeing his thick cock from his pants. Your eyes widened as he positioned himself between your legs, his size making your breath hitch.

“Y-you’re—” you started, but he smirked, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips.

“You’ll take my cock, won’t you?” he whispered, his tone teasing. “I’ll take care of you, I promise angel.”

Your nod was all the answer he needed. His hands gripped your thighs, positioning you onto the counter as he guided himself into your dripping pussy. The stretch was burning, almost overwhelming, and your fingers clawed at his shoulders.

“God, you’re so tight,” he groaned, pausing to let you adjust. “You feel so so good, better than I ever imagined.”

The pace he set was anything but slow. He thrusted into you with a raw, desperate need, his lips tracing your jawline before finding your neck. His praises spilled out in rough whispers, his hands keeping you steady as his cock slammed into you.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. “You’re taking me so well. Just like that baby. Your pussy was made for me, wasn’t it?”

Your hands gripped the edge of the counter as waves of pleasure coursed through you. He tilted your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his. “Cum for me,” he commanded, “I want to feel your pussy drench my cock.”

With a cry, you gave in, your pussy quivering against his cock. His name spilled from your lips as he buried his face in your neck, kissing you to ground you in the moment. Though, he wasn’t finished.

“Oh no angel,” he said with a smirk, pulling back slightly to look at you, “We’re not done yet.”

Before you could catch your breath, he turned you around, pressing your front against the mirror. Your reflection stared back at you, fucked out and dazed, as he positioned himself to take you from behind.

“You look so good like this,” he whispered, his hand sliding up to rest lightly around your throat. His lips found the sensitive spot below your ear, trailing kisses down your neck as he started slamming into you.

Your fingers clutched the sink for support as his pace quickened, the roughness of it all leaving you breathless. “You’re doing so well,” he murmured. “So perfect for me. Look at yourself, see how good you’re taking my cock.”

The combination of his words, his hand around your throat, his cock slamming into you making your ass recoil, and your reflection in the mirror was too much. Your body tensed as you neared your end again, and he sensed it.

“Cum on my cock,” he urged, his hand tightening around your neck. “Come on angel, I’ve got you. Cum, now.”

And you obeyed. Your orgasm hit you harder this time, leaving you gasping as he followed right behind, moaning your name like a prayer, his cum filling you to the brim.

Young-il pressed a kiss to your shoulder before gently pulling you back against his chest. “That’s my good girl,” he whispered.

As he cleaned you up with surprising tenderness, you blinked at him, still dazed. “How—how did the guards even let us in here?” you asked, voice tired.

“Don’t worry about that angel.” His grin was smug, but his touch was soft as he helped you straighten your clothes.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the confusion and questions swirling your mind as he led you out of the bathroom, his hand warm and protective around yours, your legs wobbly.

[yavieriel]

This does not have to be a cry of desperation. You do not have to accept the 24/7 deluge of information from for-profit news agencies that want your attention. You do not have to accept despair as the only valid response to the state of the world.

Drastically restricting your news intake is one of the best things you can do for your mental health. Block out a specific amount of time that you are willing to spend on current news, say one hour a week, and mute, block, unsubscribe, etc. from any news sources that you would see passively. During that one hour a week, actively seek out news from trustworthy sources. The rest of the week, if you see something, block it.

During that hour of engagement with the news, when you see something upsetting ask yourself, can I do something concrete and finite that will meaningfully impact this situation?

Not “can I raise awareness of X” or “should I reblog content about X”. Those are not concrete or finite and 99% of the time they're really just shouting into the void pointless.

Concrete and finite means things like:

Donate to a reputable charity

Vote for a specific candidate

Volunteer with a reputable non-profit

Write to my government representatives

You may need to do some research to find out what your options are.

If you cannot find anything to do about a problem that fits these constraints, then put it in the mental box of "not my circus, not my man-eating tigers" and accept that this problem is not yours to solve.

If there is some act you could take that passes the test of 1) concrete action 2) finite 3) meaningful impact

Then ask “Do I have the resources to do this without causing myself harm?”

If yes: Do the thing. Put it on your to-do list, check it off, be at peace with yourself. You have done a Good Thing. Reward yourself in some small way.

If no: Do not harm yourself, physically, emotionally, or mentally. Be kind to yourself and acknowledge that right now you are not in a place to tackle this particular problem. That is not a failure on your part. It may be a limitation imposed by an illness and/or disability, or the fact that you are yourself a victim in some way, or simply the fact that you're not wealthy. None of these things are your fault.

Ask yourself if there are things that you can work on instead that would help you develop the resources you need to help others at some point in the future. Focus on improving your own well-being. Learn to put your own oxygen mask on first. Stop setting yourself on fire to keep others warm. Talk to a therapist about creating healthy boundaries.

Whatever choices you make, let go of the fear, the anxiety, the despair, the panic.

Your negative feelings are not improving anyone else's life. Your suffering in and of itself is not benefiting anyone through some metaphysical balance sheet of suffering. Your unhappiness is not changing the world for the better. All it is doing is keeping you paralyzed and exhausted so that you cannot do anything positive.

The only people benefiting from your despair are the ones who want you beaten down and hopeless. Don't let them control you.

And for the other 167 hours a week, ignore the news. Do the things on your to-do list, take care of your home, spend time with your loved ones, work on your hobbies. Plant that pear tree and watch the pears ripen. Get to know a local sheep farmer and go watch the sheep and learn to card and spin their wool. Talk to your neighbors. Be kind.

[pomefioredove]

omg i LOVE the concept of cookies as asks so can i have a sugar cookie, #8, with chocolate drizzle and marshmallows thank yeww 🙏

t-t-total idia victory!

order #8, sugar with chocolate drizzle and marshmallows

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ internet connection

tropes: ex (mutuals) to lovers, roommate au characters: idia additional info: romantic, gender neutral reader, reader is yuu

It was the closest experience to dating Idia had ever gotten, and likely the only experience he'd ever get again.

Three months.

Three perfect, blissful months.

That's 13.0357 weeks, 91.2501 days, 2,190 hours of chats, voice calls, and texts with someone he had almost considered his.

He was raising his confidence stats to ask them out when they sent him a message, which would be their last:

"router busted. sry. will get it fixed soon"

That was weeks ago.

Idia couldn't blame them. They were going to get tired of him eventually, and ghosting him, sucky as it was, was still the easiest way to let him down.

Then, at least, he could pretend that they were telling the truth.

"Come on, Idy! This is your chance! You'll never get over them if you never meet anyone else!"

Ortho's cheery, hopeful words twist Idia's stomach with guilt. He knows that. Of course he knows that.

He buries himself deeper into his blankets. "I don't want anyone else,"

"It's only for a few weeks. Maybe you'll make friends!"

Unlikely. Idia doesn't have the social XP for that. Who would want to be friends with him, anyway?

He can't even keep Magicord mutuals.

Then again, he has no other choice.

The Prefect had asked to stay somewhere with a high-speed internet connection while post-S.T.Y.X. Ramshackle was being repaired, and Ortho had volunteered Idia.

And his room.

Ugh. Why can't anything go right for once?

Idia hides under his covers like a small child, drowning the sound of the door and voices in PreMo.

He honestly doesn't know a lot about you. He doesn't get out much, and even if he did, you've always got those OP normie friends around you.

He knows you don't talk much. He's actually never heard you talk at all.

Whatever.

Idia only emerges from his blankets when his ears are ringing from the music and his body is sore from stillness.

He takes off his headphones and reads the room.

There's Ortho, projecting a beam of light on the wall, and there's Grim, chasing it, and there's you.

You seem a little out of place, awkwardly sitting on the floor when there are chairs and tables, your bags still at your sides, unpacked.

Something about you makes him feel at ease. Weird.

"Oh- Idy!" Ortho chimes. Idia jumps, and then everyone is looking at him. Crap.

"We were wondering when you'd come out! The Prefect has a question for you!"

You give Ortho a panicked look, as if to say you most certainly did not have a question for him. Idia has his own suspicions.

"About the Wi-Fi," Ortho chimes. "They really need to get online."

Idia narrows his eyes. His brother can handle something as simple as that.

"...O-okay," he mumbles. "I guess."

He reluctantly gets out of bed and sits beside you. At least with an objective, he isn't so nervous. You hand him your phone, some sad secondhand thing, and he puts in the password for you.

"Lemme know if it's slow. I've been working on upgrading the router, and it's been a little laggy," he hands your phone to you.

"Shouldn't be a problem, though."

You take it. "I can't complain, I don't have a router at all right now,"

Idia's face turns red.

His eyes go wide.

He can't place it, at first. What's that weird feeling? What is it about you-

You notice his expression. "Uh... did I say something?"

And when you speak again, just like that, Idia jumps to his feet.

"IT-IT'S YOU!"

"You?" Grim asks.

"You?" Ortho echoes.

"Me?"

Idia feels like he's losing his mind, his anxiety cracking and breaking away, shock taking its place.

"Y-yes, you! I know that voice! Don't you- you recognize mine too, don't you?!"

Your eyes widen.

"Oh... no... no way,"

"I-I can't believe this!" he says, suddenly grinning. "You weren't lying about the router, it must've got totally busted when S.T.Y.X- oh, crap. IT'S ALL MY FAULT!"

"Idy..." Ortho warns. "Your heart rate is-"

"I know! I know, I just- I can't believe it- you, of all people,"

He sits again, shaking. It takes you a moment to catch up.

"I... I wasn't lying," you mumble. "I've been trying to get a decent internet connection since we got back, but..."

"This is the guy?" Grim mumbles to you. He is ignored.

Idia feels lightheaded. This isn't real. This isn't happening. This is some weird dream.

He can't seem to stop grinning, anyway.

"Will you go out with me?!" he asks, without thinking at all. But not even the sinking feeling in his stomach is enough to ground him.

You stare back, your own eyes wide.

And then, in your familiar voice, in your familiar easing presence: "I'd like that,"

[peachiejeongin]

A Lesson in Lust | Felix

Synopsis: You have been with Felix for a while now, and you feel like you are finally ready to advance in the relationship; however, you need some help learning the ropes, and Felix is more than happy to be your instructor.

Pairing: Felix x fem!reader

Genre: non-idol au, established relationship, smut

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content (18+ Recommended), inexperienced!reader, sub!reader, soft-dom!Felix, pet names (good girl, pretty girl, sweetheart, etc), oral (m!receiving), praise, light marking, protected penetrative sex, riding, aftercare

WC: 3.8k

Notice: I may or may not have awoken on Christmas Eve with this in mind, and it may or may not be inspired by a dream I had. I have also been told I need to write more Felix stories to which I am happy to do so! Of course, it is a cliche in a sense, but nevertheless, my loves, I hope you all enjoy the fiction!

Divider By: @strangergraphics

Smut under the cut!

The glow of the bedside lamp cast a golden warmth over the room, its light flickering softly as the evening settled itself into darkness. You were curled up against Felix, your head resting on his chest and the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing comforting in its steadiness. His hand was absentmindedly tracing circles along your arm, his tocuh featherlight as if he could not help but show affection in the smallest of gestures.

You had been silent for some time, your thoughts chasing each other around in circles, each once tangling with the next. Yet, they all centered around one specific aspect:

Sex.

You and Felix had been discussing the topic as of recent, setting boundaries and getting a feel for what the other was and was not into; however, the topic of actually consumating the act was a completely different story on your end.

You had never actually done this sort of thing before; sure, you had given and received oral from previous partners, albeit in an extremely poor manner. But you had never gone fully in, nor did you even feel like you knew what you were doing from the little experience you did have.

Thus, you had asked Felix if you could wait for a little bit, just to make sure you had enough confidence in yourself in order to delve into the act. Felix, ever assuring and compassionate, understood immediately and agreed to hold off for you.

Now, as you lay beside your boyfriend, you felt ready; although, your mind was still racing with anxiety.

It was not that you did not know what you wanted; if anything, it was the certainty that made your heart race. Saying it out loud, however, felt monumental, like stepping off of a cliff and hoping he would be there to catch you.

"What's on your mind, sweetheart?" His voice broke the quiet, gentle and curious. His fingers paused briefly against your arm before continuing their soothing gestures. You bit your lip, the words forming but catching in your throat.

"It's...it's kind of hard to talk about," you admitted, shifting to prop yourself up slightly. The nervous flutter in your stomach grew when he turned to face you fully, his expression open and patient, giving you all of the space you needed.

"That's alright," he responded, his voice steady and soft. "We don't have to talk about anything until you are ready."

Drawing in a shaky breath, you reached for his hand, lacing your fingers together for courage.

"I think I am," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. "Ready, y'know, to um...go further with us. With you."

Felix's brows lifted slightly in surprise, but his reaction was far from startled or rushed. Instead, a smile, warm and understanding, spread across his face. He sat up a little more, adjusting to meet your eyes, his hand giving yours a reassuring squeeze.

"Are you sure?" he asked gently, his tone free of judgement or expectation. "I mean, really sure? I don't want you to feel like you have to rush into anything because of me."

"No, it's not that," you corrected quickly, your cheeks heating up at his concern. "I want to. I really want to. I've just never done this before, and I'm scared I'll mess it up, or I won't know what to do."

Felix's smile softened, and he shifted closer, his free hand coming up to gently cup your cheek.

"Hey, there is no such thing as messing this up," he murmured, his thumb brushing lightly along your skin. "This isn't about being perfect or knowing all the steps at once. It's about figuring it out at your pace. Plus, you have nothing to worry about. I'll teach you everything, okay?"

You felt your chest ache in the best way possible at his words, the weight of your nervousness easing just a little as you leaned into his touch.

"Okay," you mumbled, giving a small nod to punctuate the word. You leaned in closer to Felix, resting your hands on his shoulders before encapsulating the boy in a tender, loving kiss. The action lingered for a little before he pulled away, a sparkle present in his eyes.

"How would you like to begin, my love?" he questioned softly, his face only mere centimeters away from yours. You subconsciously slid your hands down his chest, stopping when they perched lightly on his stomach; the action sent mild sparks through Felix's body, causing him to hold back a groan that had bubbled up in his chest.

"Well," you started, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "We could always get rid of this thing." You tugged on the material for emphasis. Felix chuckled, shaking his head as his eyes scanned your every movement.

"Go for it, Darling," he affirmed, holding his hands above his head. You took in a deep breath, hooking your fingers under his loose, white t-shirt and slowly but surely pulling it over Felix's head. You discarded it somewhere on the bedroom floor; 'a task for later,' you presumed.

Right now, all you were focused on was the marvelous sight in front of you. You had seen Felix shirtless dozens of times, but this instance felt different, more intimate, a shared moment between two lovers as they progressed their relationship.

Still, you could not deny his beauty—defined abs etched onto a golden body and strong arm muscles that carressed you with every care in the world molded into them.

Once his shirt was discarded, Felix’s attention snapped back to you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. His hands, warm and steady, cupped your face as he pulled you into another kiss, this one searing with passion and an unspoken hunger. The kiss deepened swiftly, his lips moving against yours with a rhythm that felt both natural and electric. His hands slipped to your waist, guiding you effortlessly into his lap until your thighs settled on either side of him.

You could not suppress the gasp that escaped as his tongue brushed teasingly against yours, a bold exploration that made your heart stutter. Felix chuckled against your lips, the sound low and affectionate, his amusement laced with a confidence that only made you melt further. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his lips slightly swollen, his gaze holding an unspoken reverence that made your breath hitch.

"You're so precious," he muttered against your lips, his hands softly rubbing up and down your back and your waist. Your arms wrapped around his neck, fiddling with the long dark strands of hair that fell down to his shoulders.

"Can we," you uttered, breaking the kiss you look at Felix longingly, "like...um..." You felt a meek feeling overtake you, a mix of the intense intimacy of the moment and the words catching in your throat.

"Hm?" Felix hummed, his voice deep yet calming. "Take your time baby."

"Can we do something I kind of know how to do?" you inquired, your voice shy and quiet. "Just so I could get back into the swing of things?" Felix's expression morphed into one of shock; his eyes widened, and he tilted his head in your direction, urging you to go further.

"Like what, baby?"

You simply responded to Felix's question with a sly smirk, moving away from his embrace and repositioning yourself to lay in between his legs. Your fingers moved towards the drawstrings of his sweatpants, untying them and keenly observing his body's responses. He let out a generous groan, unable to remove his dark gaze from you, anticipating your every move.

"I see," Felix commented, his voice falling into a hush as you grabbed the waistband of his sweats, his words faltering into shivering moans as you pulled them down along with his boxers.

The sight before you stole your breath, exceeding every expectation and flooding your senses with wonder. Felix was breathtaking, his lean, toned frame stretched out before you like a masterpiece crafted by the divine. His arousal was undeniable—longer and more prominent than you had experienced before. The flushed, swollen tip of his cock glistened with beads of pre-cum, evidence of just how much your presence, your touch, unraveled him; the simple act of your fingers working at the drawstring of his sweats had reduced him to this trembling state.

"Woah," you mumbled, your eyes blown out and fixated on the wonderous view.

"Like what you see?" Felix asked, a blend of teasing and adoration in his tone.

"Mhm," you hummed, absentmindedly taking his length into both of your shaky yet pliable hands; Felix let out a sharp, erotic hiss at the motion, causing you to slowly let go of him.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, your manner panicked. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"No, no, baby!" Felix sat up slightly, resting a comforting hand on your upper back. "That felt good. It's what you're supposed to do."

"Oh, okay..." Your voice trailed off as you reluctantly retook hold of Felix's dick, your hands gripping lightly at the base.

"There you go," Felix breathed out. "Just relax for me, okay? Take your time and go at your pace. Don't worry about me, sweetheart."

"But I wanna make you feel good," you protested quietly.

"You will, no matter what you do," Felix reassured. "I already feel amazing, and I'm just looking at you, Pretty Girl."

Felix’s words were a spark, igniting a rush of confidence that coursed through your veins like a wildfire. The tension in your shoulders began to melt away as you leaned into the moment, your gaze lifting to meet his. Through hooded eyes, you stole a glance at him, the soft curve of his smile steadying your resolve. Though your nerves still hummed beneath the surface, you let them propel you forward, taking a breath and finally beginning.

Your pace was slow, deliberate as you got to work. While one hand kept hold of Felix's cock, the other moved to tantalize his tip; your pointer finger swirled around the head and over the slit, coating Felix in his own arousal. You ran the finger down his shaft, tracing each and every prominent vein as if you were committing the image to memory.

"Fuck, baby," Felix groaned. "Keep going for me, Beautiful. Use that pretty mouth. Go slow for me."

You obliged his commands, leisurely wrapping your lips around his glistening tip and pulling him little by little into your mouth. You glanced up at him partially for approval and partially to watch his reactions.

"Yes, baby girl, just like that," Felix moaned out, moving one of his hands to lightly tug at your hair.

You took your time with Felix, sinking lower onto his shaft with a newfound desire to please him. You went about halfway down on his cock before moving back up again, continuing the motion for a few moments and eliciting sincere, hearty noises from Felix.

"You're doing so, so well, baby. I want you to use your tongue and your hands," Felix guided you with care, his instructions precise yet tender, his eyes never leaving yours. The way he spoke made your chest tighten, every syllable laced with a trust that both thrilled and reassured you. "Can you do that for me?"

"Mhm," you hummed around his tip, shooting a fiery blast of sparks through his body. Your hands moved first, stroking the half of Felix's length in which you could not reach with your mouth. As your hands worked him up, your tongue began to move in perfect rhythm; it swirled over his tip and down to other, more sensitive areas, wetting him completely as you took him in your mouth.

"You learn quickly, my love," Felix remarked, trying to sound teasing but being given away by the broken composure of his whines, the mix of sensations overwhelming his senses. "You feel so fucking good, baby."

As you suck and stroke Felix at a slightly quicker pace, he moans out into the tinted darkness of your bedroom, praying that the neighbors cannot hear how loud he is being. Your mouth is making him feel things he has never felt before, and he swears up and down you do not need him as a teacher with how well you are performing. His moans are mixed between pleasure and content.

"I've never felt this good before," Felix admits, punctuating his words with a brief giggle to keep the mood lighthearted. "My goodness, baby girl."

His praises have you unconsciously rubbing your thighs together, desperate for any sort of friction that could relieve the throbbing ache between your legs.

"You okay?" you purr around his length, sending a jolting wave throughout his body and resulting in a high-pitched, wanton moan.

"Y-yeah." Felix is more than okay; he is in a state of absolute awe that he had otherwise thought impossible. Watching you, here in this moment, in combination with knowing that he is the one that gets to have you like this hazed his mind with arousal.

His brain was increduously foggy, so much so that he does not realize when you speed up once more, bobbing your head up and down until he is teetering on the fine line of release. The sensation overtakes him suddenly, and his hands flee from your hair to grip at whatever slick material of the mattress they could grab.

He is so lost in his arousal that he absentmindedly bucks his hips up into your mouth, his prolonged thrust causing you to gag around his cock.

"Shit, baby," Felix whined, guilt overtaking him. " 'M sorry. Just felt so good, I-"

Felix is cut off by you, removing your gentle grasp around his length; before he can question why you did so, he watches as your mouth goes down to where your hands once were.

"Holy fuck!" Felix exclaims; his hips are now stuttering lightly, and his moans are coming out in higher pitches, to which you inferred both as tell-tale signs that he is close. His eyes roll back into his head, and his pleas only make you more feverish in drawing out his orgasm.

With one final, blaring groan of your name, Felix's thighs shake on either side of you as he releases thick, white ropes of cum onto your tongue. His climax is adorned by breathy groans; he swore he was on fire, melting under your precise touch.

After helping ride out his high, you release him with a wet pop!, swallowing every drop of his cum. He groans once more, with swears and other obscenities escaping from his mouth through heavy breaths.

You climbed over top of him, priding yourself in the adorable scenery; Felix's cheeks were flushed a deep shade of pink, his hands were moving up to cover his face, and his chest was heaving up and down heavily as he calms himself down from the heels of his high.

"You alright, Lixie?" you question, moving his hands away from his face and tucking a stray strand of his black, disheveled hair out of his eyes.

"I'm amazing," he responded, his voice hoarse and laced with arousal. "You did so fucking well, sweetheart." He sat up now, maneuvering you back into your straddling position as he wrapped you into a tight embrace, burying his head in the crook of your neck.

"I tried," you giggled out, feeling the rumble of Felix's chest as he laughed.

"You succeeded."

He pulled away from the hug first, his hands absently wandering down to the fabric of your hoodie, now lightly stained with evidence of the night's events. His hands slipped under the material, feeling warm against your skin as he lifted your hoodie up slightly.

"Can I?" he asked, ensuring he had your full consent before going any further. You nodded, desperate to be rid of the clothes that were making your already flushed body hotter than need be. Thus, Felix hurriedly tugged the article over your head and discarded it on the floor with the other stray items of clothing.

"Wow," he mumbled, taking in the very sight of you, from the top of your chest to the bottom of your stomach. Without thinking, his head delves into the skin just above your collarbones, kissing and sucking light marks into your skin. The small attentive action had you lightly tilting your head back, bracing onto Felix's shoulders for support. He pulled away gently, smirking at your blown-out state.

"You trust me?" Felix asks, his hands sliding up your waist.

"Always," you breathed out.

"I want you to ride me."

The words hit you like a jolt of lightning, leaving you frozen in place. Your lips parted instinctively, but no sound escaped as your heart began to pound erratically, each beat a vivid reminder of the anxiety coursing through you. Felix’s eyes flicked to your tense posture, the weight of your unease visible in the rigid set of your shoulders. Without a word, his warm hands found their way to you, kneading the taut muscles with gentle precision.

"You don't have to, baby," he followed up, his tone gentle and reassuring. "Tonight is all about you and what you're comfortable with."

"No, I want to," you quickly dismissed. "It's just, I don't know if I'll be good at it. What if I don't finish, or I finish and you don't, or-" Felix cut your inherent rambles off with a soft, soothing kiss, pulling away to look at you with pure love in his eyes.

"That's why you have me," Felix answered, his deep, Australian accent grounding you back into reality. "Like I said earlier, I already feel absolutely ecstatic, more so now that you...did what you did." Felix's words made you release a stifled laugh that you were unaware you were holding in. The sincerity of his tone, of his words gave you an unusual sense of confidence; with the rush of adrenaline, you reached down, hooking your thumbs under the elastic of your sleep shorts and your underwear, and sliding both off in one swift motion.

Felix brought you closer to him, relishing in the sight of you, completely bare before him. His eyes were wide, and his tongue subconsciously darted out as he analyzed every detail of you. He lightly took hold of your waist in order to demonstrate how to ride him.

"All you gotta do," he explained, "is bounce up and down on me." To accentuate his words, he lifted you up and down, simulating the real experience. "You can grip as hard as you need to on me for support, and if you get tired, just let me know, okay?"

"Okay," you agreed, nervousness still slightly prominent in your tone. Before beginning anything, he reached into the bedside dresser drawer, pulling out a condom and rolling it onto his cock. Once he was protected, you consciously lined Felix's tip up with your entrance, getting verbal confirmation that he was ready before you did anything.

Once you were both prepared, you lowered yourself onto him, gasping at the painful yet pleasureful stretch you felt; you felt full, for lack of a better term. Of course, you knew how large Felix was, but feeling it was entirely different. Meanwhile, Felix groaned, possibly the loudest he had all night, but his noises turned into incoherant mush from the way you felt.

You stilled for a moment, allowing your body the time it needed to adjust to his size while your hands steadied on his shoulders. Once you did start moving, it was at moderate, steady speed. You mirrored the actions Felix had taught you, lifting yourself off of his dick and lowering yourself back down over and over again until you gained a rhythm to your bounce.

"Oh my God, you're so fucking tight, baby," Felix managed to grunt. "You- Oh my God- Holy shit!" A plethora of swears made their way out of Felix's mouth as he whimpered about how amazing you felt.

You moaned softly in response to his praises, quickening your motions as Felix's head fell back onto the pillows. The intensity of chasing your own high caused you to whimper, in addition to the desire you had to please and be good for Felix. The bedroom filled with sensual noises as you both became blind sighted by pleasure.

"Keep going, baby," Felix whined. "J-Just like that. Doing so well for me."

His grip around your waist tightened as he let out more slurred whimpers and groans. His body was burning, and you noticed every visible muscle, from his arms down to his abs, clenching up. The intense euphoria of it all overtook his entire being, so much so that the man could barely see straight.

"I'm so fucking close, Lixie," you groaned, burying your face in the crook of your neck while somehow managing to keep up your pace.

"Hold out a little longer for me, baby," he stumbled, feeling a knot beginning to tighten in his stomach for the second time that night. You, in response, growled into his shoulder, nipping and sucking at the skin as a way to calm yourself down. Felix's legs began to tremble once more, and his grasp around your waist limpened, his high approaching.

"Please, baby," you whined, unable to hold yourself back for much longer as you found yourself at the peaks of your climax.

"Let go, sweetheart," Felix commanded, feeling his orgasm sneaking up on him. With that, your breathing became heavier and you swore momentarily that you saw stars as you let yourself go. You released every bit of the pent-up arousal around Felix's cock.

It did not take long for him to follow, letting out a roaring groan as he was brought to his second finish of the night. He finished into the condom, rocking out a few more thrusts to calm you both down before pulling out and discarding the rubber.

You fell beside of him, breathless and messy as you called to him.

"C'mere, baby," Felix gestured for you to snuggle with him; he held you tight as if letting go would cause him to lose you for forever.

"Did I do good?" you asked, oblivious to every emotion Felix had experienced all at once.

"You did so fucking well, sweetheart," he praised, running his fingers soothingly through your hair. "Are you alright?"

"Mhm," you muttered in response, almost dozing off in his arms.

"Mm-mm," Felix tsked, lifting you up out of his embrace. "Gotta get you cleaned up, baby."

After taking a hot bath together and changing into comfortable pajamas, you snuggled into Felix's side as a movie play half-forgotten in the background.

"Thank you, by the way," you said out of the blue, "for teaching me all of the sex stuff." Your wording had Felix in giggles as he held you tighter.

"Any time, my dear."

The air was silent momentarily, you absentmindedly fiddling with the drawstrings of Felix's hoodie.

"You think we could have another lesson soon?"

Taglist: @velvetmoonlght, @amararosesblog (If you would like to be added to the taglist, please let me know!)

[gothicfied]

Nam-gyu / Player 124 Headcanons

Pairing: Nam-gyu / Player 124 x fem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of death/dying, gunshots, drug use/heroin use (typical squid game stuff), other than that it's just fluff, not proof read (english isn't my first language)

જ⁀➴ Walking down these strangely colorful stairs, with the equally strange backgroud music being the only thing that filled the silence between all the surviving players, made you feel like throwing up. You just witnessed people literally die right in front of you, shot for the smallest movement. If it wasn't for the adrenalin pumping throughout your body, you sure as hell wouldn't have survived either.

Suddenly, you felt a hand on your shoulder, making you jolt. "Woah," Player 124, according to his jacket, stopped in his tracks when you did, too, holding up his hands in a defensive manner, "sorry. Didn't mean to startle you." While you just looked at him annoyed, a grin started to form on his lips: "What? Just wanted to know if you're okay. You scared or something?"

જ⁀➴ From then on Nam-gyu refused to leave you alone, constantly teasing you about your, very valid, fear and distress. No insults, no nothing made him stop - no - the purple haired junkie egged him on. After some time you just started to ignore him, or at least tried to. For whatever reason, Nam-gyu was very touchy with everybody, but especially you. He dragged, grabbed and shook you by your shoulders like a ragdoll when talking to you, sometimes weirdly rubbing over your back in an almost comforting way.

જ⁀➴ He'd purposefully walk past your bed to hush a quick "Good night." before lights out, often times observing you in the golden light of the piggy bank that was the only dim light source at night. Seeing you struggle to find some rest made him chuckle to himself, knowing that he had the same problem, too.

જ⁀➴ Before the first voting, he'd grab you by your arm, trying to charm you into voting in favor of the games. It was almost like he was able to sense that you wanted to quit, but it should've been blatantly obvious. Only someone with a death wish would want to continue this. Maybe he had one, after all. Once, you noticed from afar how he was nagging Thanos to give him one of those colored pills, drugs, pushing the sleeve of his right arm up to reveal the inside of his elbow. From your distance, you couldn't quite make out what he was showing him, but you assumed it were heroin marks. Well, now you kinda felt bad for him.

જ⁀➴ You weren't quite sure what to think of him. Nam-gyu would often bite around his fingernails, tug his sleeves over his hands, since this place was deathly cold sometimes, and stress over many things you also stressed about. Noticing you two weren't all that different after all, you warmed up to the idea of interacting with him.

જ⁀➴ Obviously, it couldn't all go the way you wanted it to. Not being affiliated with anyone around here proved itself to be a much greater problem during the mingle.

As soon as the spinning platform everyone tried to balance themselves on stopped along the music, the female announced the number: "Ten!". Immediately players started to scramble and hurry to find themselves a group, a group of men almost running you over. Fear, stress, anxiety, dread - You felt all of it at once. The clock was ticking down and all you could is stand there and look around you, already accepting your fate. But, apparently, the universe said no: A hand quickly grabbed you by your arm, forcefully pulling you with them. You were slammed against the wall of one of the small rooms as the door shut behind you, the timer reaching zero almost directly after. "What the fuck were you thinking? Seriously? Why did you just stand there?" it was Nam-gyu who was yelling at you, keeping you pinned against the wall by your shoulders. "Do you wanna get yourself killed?" You stared up at him, with a kind of offended expression, and he just stared back. In fact, all other eight players were staring at you two. Noticing the deafening silence, Nam-gyu turned his head around to Thanos, who just raised an eyebrow. "What? We need more people to vote 'O' anyway."

જ⁀➴ You felt like you owed him something now. Picking away at some of the kimbap you couldn't bring your to eat anymore, you scanned the dorm area for Nam-gyu. He was surprisingly alone for a moment, Thanos being off to bother someone else with whatever problem he came up with now.

Hesitantly, you took quick steps towards Nam-gyu's bed, coming to a halt right in front of it. He saved your life, the least you could do was give him some of your food that was being handed out to you players pretty sparsely. Feeling your presence behind him, he tucked a few strands of his hair behind his ears, not even needing to turn around to know it was you. "What is it?" Perhaps he was a bit embarrassed because of that moment after all. You sat down next to him on the, pretty uncomfortable mattress, handing him the rest of your food you wrapped back up in the aluminum foil. Just a quick moment of eye contact was enough for him to understand that you were really grateful for what he did back there.

જ⁀➴ If the guards wouldn't let you use the bathroom, claiming this late at night no one would be able to, Nam-gyu would be the one to come over to the door, hammering against the glass and demand that they let you in. "Come on, she's a woman," he'd exclaim, "have some decency." And when the door finally opened, you'd give him a smile. An actual, honest one.

જ⁀➴ It's as if Nam-gyu lived for that. Your smile, your small acts of gratefulness after he saved your life. You've grown on him - he'd even understand it if you'd continue to vote against resuming the games. Thinking about you being able to live your life to the fullest made him happy, even if he didn't understand that feeling quite yet.

[living-in-a-box]

Prefacing this with: I do dislike everything about that post. The guy sounds soulless and it is pretty obvious he is obsessed about wealth. Sadly, he did not seem to take away any life lessons from his experience. I am not trying to somehow excuse his tone-deaf take. Just wanted to point out something I noticed that might apply to other people who are simply well-off financially but earn a relatively modest income, yet speak the same way.

Adding to the part about UBI - it might also be that money is not so much as a "metric of personal achievement" for a person, but this is just a way for them to express participating in their hobby. I have noticed people rarely call anything they do for their primary income source as a hobby.

I think YouTubers are a great example of this. Even YouTubers who are passive when it comes to making money on the platform and instead create content they love and it just so happened they got a large following that allows them to make it their primary income source - do not call YouTube their hobby, but their job. Even if they happen to love what they do, they still consider YouTube to be their job and not a hobby.

In addition, it is also noteworthy that even if someone is doing what they love by working for oneself that also means doing a lot of things that are not part of what one might enjoy (marketing, accounting, answering emails, talking with clients, etc.), so it does not make sense to quantify the action of doing that labour as "getting back to doing what I love/ my hobby". Which I think leads to people quantifying it through the end result instead.

The feeling of always needing to make more money might also be related to people having experienced some form of poverty in their childhood.

I am mostly writing this because I know people who say such things. Who feel bad that they took a (much needed) vacation because now they feel they have not been working enough. Even if they know that they have savings, that their monthly income will still be enough to cover their mortgage, bills, groceries, pets, hobbies and similar expenses - they still feel a certain anxiety that "this is not enough". Not because they are money hungry goblins, but because of various experiences that shaped their relationship with money.

Despite every moment of life being indescribably precious and a wondrous mystery, I will spend it caring about dividends and how many rental properties I have.

[faithshouseofchaos]

Is it possible, if you’re comfortable with it, to request a reader with a service dog where some fans kinda mean about her needing it and her boyfriend stands up for her and offers some much needed comfort? For Max or whoever you feel like doing it for?

Bailey the dog||Max verstappen x fem!autistic!reader

Summary — after some negative comments about Max’s girlfriend and her service dog max puts his foot and put an end to it.

Word count-1027

Being with Max Verstappen was a dream, but it came with its challenges. The Formula One world champion lived his life under a microscope, and by extension, so did you. Dating him had brought you joy beyond measure, but it also opened you up to the scrutiny of millions of fans, most of whom didn’t know you beyond the curated snapshots of your life they saw online.

You tried not to let it bother you—most of the time, you could shrug off the judgmental comments and cruel assumptions. But sometimes, the weight of it all became too much.

Bailey, your golden retriever and service dog, had been with you for years. She was more than just a dog; she was your lifeline. Whether it was helping you manage your anxiety or providing physical assistance on tough days, Bailey was always by your side. Max had accepted her instantly, treating her like family from the very beginning.

But not everyone was so kind.The latest storm of negativity had started after you attended a recent Formula 1 event with Max. The cameras had captured you and Bailey by his side as you walked through the paddock together, and while most fans were supportive, a loud minority had taken it upon themselves to criticize you.

“She’s so desperate for attention. Why bring that dog everywhere?”

“She looks fine to me. What does she even need a service dog for?”

“Max could do so much better. She’s embarrassing him.”

The comments spiraled from there, turning into an avalanche of baseless accusations and unwarranted cruelty. You’d tried to avoid reading them, but curiosity—or maybe a self-destructive streak—got the better of you. By the time you closed your phone, the words felt like they were etched into your skin, impossible to forget.

You spent the rest of the day on the couch, Bailey’s head resting on your lap as if she could sense your distress. You stroked her soft fur absentmindedly, the repetitive motion soothing your frayed nerves.

When Max came home from the gym, he immediately noticed something was wrong.

“Hey, liefje,” he greeted, dropping his gym bag by the door. His usual smile faltered when he saw the look on your face. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” you lied, forcing a weak smile. “Just tired.”

Max’s brows furrowed, and he crossed the room in a few quick strides. Sitting down beside you, he gently tilted your chin up so you had no choice but to look at him.

“Don’t do that,” he said softly. “Don’t pretend. Talk to me.”

Tears pricked your eyes as you hesitated. You didn’t want to burden him with your insecurities, but Max’s concerned gaze broke down your walls.

“It’s the fans,” you admitted finally, your voice trembling. “They’re saying horrible things about me. About Bailey. They think I’m using her for attention or that I don’t really need her. And they’re saying I’m embarrassing you.”

Max’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening as he listened. “Who’s saying that?”

“Just… people online,” you said, shrugging weakly. “It’s stupid. I shouldn’t let it get to me, but…”

“It’s not stupid,” Max said firmly. He pulled you into his arms, holding you close as you broke down against his chest. His hand stroked your hair, his voice a low, soothing murmur. “It’s not stupid at all. People don’t understand, and instead of trying to, they judge. It’s cruel, and it’s wrong. But you are not embarrassing me. Not ever.”

His words were a balm to your wounded heart, but the pain lingered. “I just wish they’d stop,” you whispered.

“They will,” Max said, his tone carrying a determination that made you pull back to look at him.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m going to say something,” he replied, grabbing his phone.

“Max, you don’t have to—”

“Yes, I do,” he interrupted, his blue eyes blazing with conviction. “I’m not going to sit by and let people talk about you like that. You’re my girlfriend. You’re the strongest person I know, and Bailey is amazing. They need to know that.”

Before you could protest, Max opened Instagram and began typing. You watched as his fingers flew across the screen, his expression resolute.

A few minutes later, he showed you the post.

The photo was one of you and Bailey at the paddock, smiling at each other while Max stood beside you, his arm draped protectively around your shoulders. The caption read:

“This is Y/n and her service dog, Bailey. Bailey isn’t just a dog; she’s a trained professional who helps my girlfriend manage things you don’t see. If you think you have the right to judge her for needing Bailey, think again. Kindness is free. Maybe try using it. And to the majority of you who support us—thank you. Your love doesn’t go unnoticed.”

He hit “Post” before you could say anything, setting his phone aside and pulling you back into his arms.

“Max, you didn’t have to do that,” you said, your voice thick with emotion.

“Yes, I did,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Because I love you. And no one has the right to make you feel like you’re anything less than incredible.”

The post went viral within hours. Fans flooded the comments with messages of support, sharing their own experiences with service dogs and calling out the cruelty of the original comments. Some even apologized, admitting they hadn’t understood before.

As you scrolled through the responses later that evening, tears filled your eyes again—this time from gratitude.

“You didn’t just stand up for me,” you said, looking at Max. “You stood up for everyone who’s ever needed someone like Bailey. Thank you.”

Max smiled, pulling you closer. “You deserve the world, liefje. And I’ll do everything I can to give it to you.”

Bailey barked softly, wagging her tail as if to agree. Max chuckled, ruffling her fur. “Looks like Bailey’s on my side.”

“She always is,” you said with a laugh, feeling lighter than you had in days.

With Max’s arms around you and Bailey by your side, you felt stronger than ever. No amount of negativity could take that away

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Just Take It | Jeon Jungkook | Part Eight

Summary: Jungkook's feelings for you have grown immensely and he can't hold himself back from being honest anymore. Pairing: Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) Word Count: 2.6K~ (I know it's short but it was at a good stopping point and I couldn't figure out how to continue it without a big time skip/harsh break so yeah enjoy this mini chapter 😅) Warnings: No warnings just fluff a/n: Another almost four months and I only have a little bit for you 😔 I'm still trying to figure out how I want to go about finishing this story (yes it's close to the end) so please bear with me 😪 but either way I hope you enjoy!

Ever since I told him last month that I didn't want to be friends anymore and by default telling him that I wanted to be with him things have been different.

We've settled into a new routine with the tension between us no longer burning to the point I shy away but something that feel natural, domestic even. 

I guess you could say that's pretty obvious from the fact that we're living together but his subtle touches are welcomed and expected.

Things as simple as his hand on my lower back as he passes by or his arms wrapped around me from behind with his chin propped up on my shoulder or even a kiss on the forehead are all things that we've settled into and it makes me feel loved. 

Love is still a scary word for me to think about or even say aloud but it's something I feel towards him, deeply, hopelessly, painfully.

At times I remember that things could suddenly change without warning. That he could toss me out as soon as he gets fed up with waiting like Jared did. That he cou-. 

"Ow!" I cry out when he pinches my side, "What was that for?" I whine, the spot he abused  already sore. "I've been calling your name for five minutes and you didn't respond so..." he chuckles and I hum, not having the energy to scold him further. 

He wraps his arms around my waist and props his chin on my shoulder just like I had been thinking about while spacing out, leaving me relaxing into him, the feeling of being in his arms taking away some of the anxiety that had started to build. 

"You okay?" he asks, placing a kiss on my cheek to which I hum again, nodding along with it. "You sure, because you've been stirring your coffee for the past seven minutes" he says, my hand stilling once he points it out. 

I take a drink of the completely cold beverage and sigh in defeat, realizing that his words are true. 

"I wanted it cold anyways" I mumble and turn to walk over to the freezer to add some ice, Jungkook letting go but still staying close. 

"Something's wrong" he says after observing me for another second or two, very used to reading my body language. "Nothing's wrong I'm just...tired" I reply and the truth is I am. 

"My internship has been kicking my ass and I don't know, I guess it's all starting to catch up to me" I relent and he takes a turn humming, knowing I'm not telling him the whole truth. 

"You know you can tell me anything right?" he says, coming closer and cradling my face in his hands, granting him a sad smile in return. 

"I know, but I promise I'm fine. It's just been a long week that's all" he studies my features for a while and decides to take my word for it, seeing that I'm not ready to talk about it. He nods his head a tiny bit before leaning in and giving me a soft kiss on my lips, one that lasts but a moment before pulling away.

"You wanna watch something tonight?" he asks and I smile as my answer, making him chuckle. "I'll make the snacks if you wanna go choose" he offers and I nod, my face still cradled in his hands so he gives me one last kiss before letting go and leaving our source of entertainment up to me.

~~~~

As the movie we've already watched and fallen in love with plays Jungkook notices my absence even though I'm cuddled up next to him, my reactions being minimal to nonexistent.

The parts we always laugh at are met with the sounds of his enjoyment and not mine so he pauses it and waits for me to notice which I don't for a while leaving him even more worried. 

"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours Bunny? Did I do something wrong?" he asks and I sit up, needing him to know that he hasn't. "No, no you've been wonderful, better than I deserve honestly" I say, mumbling the last part but of course he hears it loud and clear.

"I'm good to you because I love you and you do deserve it, that's all" he admits so freely that I almost don't catch it. "You...what?" I ask, almost too scared to breathe. "I love you" he says with a crooked smile, clearly enjoying my practically speechless state.

I sit there for a minute, stunned into silence, not having expected that at all but he just laughs. "What? You didn't think I loved you?" he asks, brushing a stray strand of hair off of my face, letting his fingers trail down my neck before withdrawing his hand.

"No...I mean maybe? Isn't it a little too early for I love you's?" I ask, tentative to say it after I had been burned by...

"I don't think so. I mean it might be forward but I've loved you for a long time and I've cared about you even longer. You're someone that has been a constant in my life for many many years and the fact that you've given me permission to hold you, kiss you...well it's something that I don't think I can hold back anymore" he confesses, making me feel as though my heart might explode. 

"I-" "You don't have to say anything. Take your time and only say it if you truly mean it Darling. I don't want to rush you into anything you're not ready for" he says, chancing caressing my face again and rubbing his thumb along my bottom lip. 

"Come here" he says and pulls me in, having me straddle him not for anything sexual but just for the need to hold me close. 

I burry my face in his neck and he rubs my back, knowing that I feel vulnerable since although he's not rushing me, I know he'll be waiting for an answer. 

"I'm scared" I mumble against his skin and he hums, understanding the situation honestly more than I wish he did. He witnessed the ups and downs of the relationship between Jared and I and sat on the sidelines, knowing he could treat me better but caring about me too much to take away my right to make my own decisions and choose who I love even if it wasn't him. 

"Take your time Bun. You know I'll always be here for you, no matter how long it takes" he reassures me of what I knew, making me nod and wrap around him even tighter, taking his words as genuine but still terrified that this could all slip away at any moment. 

~~~~

A week goes by and I still haven't said it and it's killing me.

When he says goodbye he says it, whenever we've been intimate he says it, he even says it randomly just to try to make me smile but my mind won't truly let it sink in until I say it back.

"Baby?" he asks, knocking on my partially ajar door, seeing that I've been taking a little while longer to get out of bed this morning. 

I hum and let him come in, trying to assess the state I'm in before saying anything else as he comes and sits down on my side of the bed, looking down at me and placing his hand on my waist. I'm still laying down, not having made an effort to get up just yet which I know worries him as well but he doesn't push me too hard. 

"You not feeling well?" he asks, now going to check my temperature with the back of his hand but not noticing a fever of any sort making his theory very short lived. "No, just tired" I say quietly, not having spoken a word since I woke up, my voice still raspy which I can tell he enjoys but doesn't comment on this time.

"You want me to make you something? It's already lunch time and you haven't eaten all day huh?" he asks, knowing the answer but still allowing me the chance to reply. "Yeah maybe something simple like a sandwich?" I request and he nods.

"Want me to get it from that sandwich place we love?" he suggests, rubbing small circles on my waist but I shake my head. "No I'm craving one of your sandwiches" I say making him smile, knowing one of his favorite forms of praise is compliments on his cooking. 

"Okay Bun, the usual?" he asks, knowing exactly what I want but asking just in case I'm feeling like something a little different today but I nod my head in approval making him lean down and place a kiss on my forehead before asking if I want him to bring it up here to which I decline. 

"I need to get out of bed at some point" I say and he shrugs, "You're allowed to have a lazy day every once in a while if you'd like. I could even come join you later on?" he proposes making me smile, in favor of his suggestion. 

"Can we take a nap after lunch?" I ask and he smirks a bit, testing the waters to see what I'm actually asking for. "Just a regular nap this time" I roll my eyes leaving him sighing dramatically before leaving, telling me he'll call me down when it's ready.

Once he's gone the doubt that has been plaguing my mind comes circling back.

'What if he's just saying that to take pity on me? What if he's saying it to rush me into something I'm not ready for? What if-' I groan, cutting off the spiral that I send myself down every time I'm alone and throw the blankets off before going into my bathroom and throwing cold water on my face, glaring at myself in the mirror, daring me to keep acting like this.

He loves me. He loves...me. Why am I so torn up about this? People say it all the time so it's not like it's the end of the world. It's just that...well next time I say it I want to mean it. The next time I say it I want it to be real. 

I want to say it to the man that I'll promise to say it to forevermore. 

Call me a hopeless romantic all you want but if I'm going to trust someone with my heart again I don't want to regret it...

~~~~

"Here you go Bunny" he says and places my sandwich in front of me. "I love you" I mumble, softer than I've ever said anything before but it makes his movements stutter. 

"What was that Darling?" he asks, sitting down in the seat next to me at the table. "I um...I said 'Thank you'" I chicken out and although he wants to call me out on it he doesn't.

"You're welcome baby" he says, his smile a little brighter when he realizes that I'm trying, that I want to say it too but I just don't have the confidence yet. 

"Anything for you" he finishes and caresses my cheek before getting up and grabbing his plate along with our drinks. 

"You sure you're feeling alright?" he asks, my silence through lunch palpable since whenever he tries to start up a conversation I give him small short answers that make his efforts die in his throat. 

"I've just been feeling a little funky that's all" I say and he hums, contemplating his next words which surprise me. "I'm sorry" he says, defeated and honestly quite vulnerable. "Why are you apologizing?" I ask, not thinking that he would have done anything that would require something like that. 

"I knew you weren't ready and I rushed things but I wanted to be able to say what I felt for you because it was eating me alive. Having to cut off my sentences and not being able to speak my mind fully, holding you as close to my heart as possible but not being able to tell you that you had it in the palm of your hand already I just...I couldn't do it anymore" he says, his whole demeanor shifted into an almost sorrowful state that I can't hold it back anymore.

I can't keep hurting him like this when all I want to do is scream it for all to hear, even if the thought terrifies me.

"I love you" I say making his head pop up from it's dropped state, then feeling guilty and looking at his lap again as a result. "You don't have to say it just because I did. I just wanted to apologize because I know that that's was why you've been feeling so off lately" he says but I shake my head. 

"The thought of giving my heart to someone again scares the shit out of me. After...well after going through all of that the thought of opening myself up again was not something I wanted to do. I will admit I sought you out out of lust at first but as our friendship and eventual relationship began to grow I realized that I cared about you a whole lot more that I should" I say, me now with my head turned down, not being able to keep the intense eye contact he's giving me, hanging on every word. 

"I didn't know if you were doing these things for me because you felt sorry or because you truly cared. I know now that doubting your motives was honestly my own self doubt getting the best of me. You've done nothing but love and care for me since the beginning and I haven't let myself fully process the fact that I'm..." I cut myself off and take a deep breath.

"The fact that I'm falling in love with you" and although he said those words first the admission alone has me feeling as though he hadn't, as if he would change his mind now that I reciprocated his confession but he does anything but that, further confirming his true intentions for me as he pulls me closer. 

He doesn't pull me in with a carnal passion in mind, he doesn't even pull me in for a kiss, he pulls me in and holds me close, telling me wordlessly that he's proud of me. That he's proud of me for taking that step, for trusting him with my heart, my mind, soul, fully consumed by him without abandon.

"Thank you" he whispers, his face being buried in my hair making me laugh at the ticklish feeling. "Don't make it weird" I say and poke his side making him flinch and hold me tighter. "How can I not? The woman I love loves me back" he chuckles and when I try to pull back he squeezes me tighter. 

"Just let me have my moment" he huffs making me sigh and return his crushing embrace. "I love you" he says making me burry my face into his neck, mumbling it against his skin in return. 

"Nah nah nah, say it like you mean it" he says, pushing me back just enough so he can look at me. "But I do mean it!" I roll my eyes, playing into his pouty act. "Come on, say it!" he says, pushing me back and forth, making me sway. 

"I already said it, why do you need to hear it again?" I chuckle when his pout gets deeper. "Okay fine" I give in making his brows raise at my quick defeat. "I love you" I whisper in his ear and then run away, his hold on me having loosened from pure shock of my honesty, knowing now that I truly truly mean it. 

"Get back here!" he scolds once he's come back down to earth, the surprise replaced with determination, his intentions being to not let me go til sunrise.  

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[iamstillovingyou]

Under the cherry blossom

Kang Dae-ho x reader fluff, comfort Summary: Realizing how important Dae-ho has been to you throughout the games and providing comfort to each other Warnings: PTSD, panic attack, anxiety etc. spoilers for squid game s2

hey guys, this is my first ever try at writing something on here, so please be kind! I can't stop thinking about Dae-ho from Squid Game and my daydreams gave me this idea, so I thought it might be good to write about it. I incorporated some of the events from s2 as well as the ending, inserting reader as part of the group with Dae-ho. I used 'you' throughout the whole fic. Hope you enjoy it! Word count: 1k As the lights went out and everyone retired to their beds with just a few voices chattering away or snoring around the hall, your anxiety started spiking up. You had tried to keep your cool during the games, but one harrowing experience after another left you disturbed. Thinking about the most recent game 'Mingle' left your mind in a whirl. You were wondering how you managed to survive every single round of it. The fact that you were a part of a group of people who became your friends and protectors definitely helped you stay alive so long. But, one particular person you kept thinking of was Dae-ho, who kept close to you throughout the whole game. As soon as they'd announce the number, Dae-ho would grab your hand and run for your lives, hoping to secure the number of people and a room. In the last round, as you were considering the possibility of the number two being announced, you felt a tight grip on arm and turned back to look Dae-ho in the eyes. He gave you a nod of reassurance. You held on to him for dear life. Now that you were alive for the ordeal of the next game, your mind focused on Dae-ho. Ever since you joined their group, he was always looking out for you, making sure you're okay and making little jokes to ensure you keep your mind off the horrifying reality that any of you might not be there the next day. You had got used to him and found his presence soothing and his concern for you during the last game intrigued you.

You started worrying about the next game and felt an oncoming panic attack. You had to talk to someone. You turned your head to the right, to the bed where Dae-ho was sleeping. Hesitatingly, you whispered into the darkness: 'Dae-ho', not hoping for answer. After just a second you heard a quiet 'Yes?' 'Dae-ho, are you sleeping?' Then followed silence. You had almost started regretting calling out his name, especially as you didn't like asking for help. But your thoughts were interrupted by Dae-ho shuffling from his bed and kneeling next to yours. 'Are you okay? Is something wrong?' You tried to make out his face in the faint light, his eyes only two dots shining. 'Dae-ho, I'm scared' you blurted out. You had been scared since the beginning, but managed to keep fear at bay. Now it overwhelmed you completely. Dae-ho kept his voice low 'I know. This place is a nightmare, but we are strong, right?, he said as he took your hand in his, 'We've made it so far, we just have to stick together, okay?'. As he said this he sat down on the side of your bed, taking your hand in his. You sat up, feeling the warmth of his hand. You nodded, but tears started swelling in your eyes. 'Dae-ho, what if we do not make it out of here?' you asked as a hot tear rolled down your cheek, you trying to hold in the sobs bubbling in your throat. 'Remember the bridge you were telling me about? With the cherry blossoms and the pond? How magical it is in the springtime?' You nodded. 'Well, picture it. Imagine us there, walking over it on a sunny day, the breeze blowing the petals softly around us. We're safe and happy. You'll take me there when we get out of here, right?', he flashed his charming smile, wiping away the tear from your cheek. You let out a quiet chuckle, trying not to burst out crying. You had told him about your hometown and how you loved that spot in the springtime and how you longed to see it again. He had listened. 'I promise' you whispered as he kissed your hand. 'Now try to get some sleep, we need to be ready for whatever is coming tomorrow', he said and retreated to his bed.

The next day brought its own challenges. Gi-hun's knowledge of the system had helped your group stay alive thus far. His next proposal was to organize an attack on the guards and their leader. You knew it was a great risk and tried to hide your concern for Dae-ho who was determined to be a part of it. He kept glancing at you as they were making the plan. He knew the danger he was exposing himself to, but he was ready to do anything to make sure you two to walk out of there alive. Before they headed out the door, you ran up to him. 'Dae-ho!' He turned to look at you with his soft gaze, his lips thinning into a line. You took a deep breath. 'I'll be waiting for you", you said and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

... All you could hear were shots being fired. You had just managed to calm yourself a bit, when you saw Dae-ho entering through the door, your face lighting up at the relief. He was back. You ran up to him, smiling on the verge of tears. He looked terrified and went straight to the dead guards on the floor fumbling around in their pockets taking the ammo. You tried talking to him but he wasn't responding, focused on collecting all the charges. You noticed what he was doing and helped him, piling them up in a bundle in the green hoodie. 'Stay here' he said and ran out the door. Confused, you went back to the beds, praying everything was going to turn out alright. Several minutes later, you saw Dae-ho reentering and hiding himself away in one of the beds, holding his palms over his ears, visibly shaking. A second later, player 120 came after him, you could see them talking about something. You ran up to them and found out what had happened. As you put your arms around Dae-ho and he laid his head against your chest, new guards entered and started shooting at the ceiling. 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry', he kept repeating. You held him tightly, bracing yourself for whatever was coming next. 'Remember the cherry blossoms, we're safe and happy'.

[bluem1lls]

hi hi ! i saw your post about wanting some se-mi requests and i was wondering on how se-mi would react to having a s/o that tends to zone out / dissociates during the games whenever they're parted from se-mi / can't stay near her because it causes their separation anxiety </3 like it's a way for the reader to feel less anxious or stressed and the reader seems to lighten up whenever they're near se-mi or notices she's alive , sorry if that's alot ! 😭

✧₊⁺ we'll go home (together)

se-mi x fem!reader

✦ synopsis: as you try to survive the games with your girlfriend, you can't help but to dissociate when she's not nearby. lucky for you, she never wants to leave your side.

content: just a short fluff, reader usually zones out when she's not with se-mi

authors note: thank you for the request! it's rlly short because i'm writing this at my office bye i have dedication!!!!!! but i hope u like it!

✧₊⁺ first of all, your girlfriend would never leave you alone. like ever. i think she would die if that happened.

✧₊⁺ but there's this one situation in mingle where you guys were running along with min-su as a group of three and in the rush, someone pushed her.

✧₊⁺ when you saw her on the ground you almost choke yourself. what if she dies? what if that hurted her head? what if she can't move to run with a group? what if-

✧₊⁺ as you start to hyperventilate you try and run to your gilfriend, failing as min-su pushes you into a room with another guy and closes the door.

✧₊⁺ "hey, i saw her. she got up and ran with another group. she's okay" he said, touching your shoulder.

✧₊⁺ you won't believe him until you see her.

✧₊⁺ you start to dissociate. you can see min-su talking but you can't hear him. your mind filled with thoughts. 'i hope she's okay. she better be okay'.

✧₊⁺ tears start falling from your eyes because what kind of girlfriend are you? leaving her there? it was an accident but-

✧₊⁺ the doors unlock. you run outside as you stare everywhere.

✧₊⁺ she's not here. she's not here. she died. min-su lied-

✧₊⁺ you feel soft arms wrapping you, she deposits a kiss to your temple.

"i'm here baby" she says as you hug her back, your tears going down your cheeks.

"i'm-m so so sorry i'm so sorry...i tried but-" i sobbed against her, her hand caressing my hair to try and calm me.

"sh sh, baby i know. i told min-su to pull you away. i'm here okay? i'm never leaving you"

you believe her. she better not.

✧₊⁺ you're just so used to her, you kinda forgot how it is when she's not there.

✧₊⁺ like the first time you two sleep together, she wakes up first, smiling as she sees you all comfy. she kisses your entire face. when she's done, she gets up, heading to talk with the guys until you wake up. she thinks you'll wake up and follow her, after all you know that when she's not with you, she's with her friends.

until she thinks it's been a little too much time. she starts to worry, going back to your bed.

she finds you there, staring at a blank point on the wall.

"baby?"

you lift your head, she's back!

your face lightens up, a soft smile appearing.

"i missed you" you say as she smirks, getting closer to you. your face in her hands, softly kissing your lips.

"good morning princess, what's wrong? i was waiting until you wake up but i got worried. it's been a while." she frowned.

"i thought you.. left or something" i mumble as her face scans my features. a hint of worry through her eyes.

"baby, what?-" she says, shocking her head no. "no princess i'd never leave you, wherever i go, you come with"

i nod as she kisses my lips again and again.

"i love you"

"i love you princess"

✧₊⁺ of course, when the fourth game comes and it's an individual one, you're shaking.

✧₊⁺ she's too, she just doesn't want you to see it, or it'll make you more nervous.

✧₊⁺ "it's okay baby, this is our last game and then we vote to leave okay? its the last time you're gonna be appart from me. i swear" she says, hugging me as i return it, squeezing her.

it's hard to focus when you're not with her, but you try to get past it. after all, if your girlfriend comes out and you don't, she'll be heartbroken. you don't want that.

✧₊⁺ finally, you made it through. as you're out of the room, you sit there waiting for her.

of course she comes a few minutes later with a smug smirk. she's so cocky.

as she sees you, her face lightens up.

and as you see her, you get up to run to her arms.

✧₊⁺ she kisses you with a soft chuckle.

"what did i said? together. i bet you did so good, my pretty girl" she says smiling.

✧₊⁺ you think you might melt right there and then. you nod, never leaving her arms.

"can we go home now?" you say as she nods.

"let's vote and go home".

[the-crooked-library]

Human vs Vampire Violence in Nosferatu

I've talked about this in the tags of another post already but i can't stop thinking about this so here it goes:

The majority of Ellen's suffering is due to mundane and socially acceptable forms of violence (e.g. medical) and that is not an accident. The script intends this. It is the primary underlying theme of Nosferatu (2024), it is the undercurrent to all her motivations, and the film wants the viewers to be aware of this, at least on some level.

Over the course of the story, Ellen Hutter is forcibly isolated by her father, dismissed and infantilized by her husband, drugged and tied to her bed by a doctor and her husband's friends, pierced through the arm by another doctor just to demonstrate that her soul "isn't there," insulted and kicked out from the Hardings' house (while still having psychic fits nightly), left to care for her sick husband alone without any support, never listened to - and all these things are excused!..

There's always some sort of justification, and it's usually either misogynistic or medical or both.

Her father isolated her because her psychic abilities frightened him, because she was too abnormal, and he thought that she wasn't fit to be around other people. Thomas dismissed her nightmares and ignored her emotional needs because he thought her anxieties were childish, that she prioritized the wrong things in life (love over financial advancement), and that she was incapable of good judgement; it's also the reason he is unaware that she doesn't like cut flowers, or that Harding hates her (even though she is very well aware of that, she evidently didn't feel like she could tell her husband). Similarly, Dr. Sievers believed that he had to do what he did, because Ellen was mad and had to be controlled. Harding, naturally, let him do it, and then did worse, and justified it all with “logic” and family values.

The point is that every single character harms Ellen on some level, despite what they might consider best intentions; and I think that a significant drive behind some of the more vitriolic online responses to this film is that many people are uncomfortable with that aspect of the story. Nosferatu demands that the viewer confront a fundamental truth of human imperfection - that someone who looks soft and Normal is, in fact, capable of causing pain regardless; and that invites a deeper sort of self-reflection. Perhaps, even accountability.

Our recently-resurgent purity culture shares this discomfort with Ellen's societal setting. For Thomas, for Sievers, for Harding, for us, it is much easier to blame harm and sin on a Monster From Somewhere Else, and pretend that a witch-hunt would entirely eradicate the problem.

However, the film demonstrates the inherent falseness behind this assumption. Even if Ellen had not followed Orlok into death, she would not have suddenly become happy with her human life - because his destruction would not have changed how she is perceived. She would have continued to endure far more insidious, systemic, violent abuse as a disabled, arguably queer wife and woman.

This is why the sensuality of her death/wedding is so crucial to the presentation of the film.

in Orlok, she embraces her own perceived "darkness," the aspects of her that her society believes are harmful and grotesque - her lack of deference to her husband (he terrorizes Thomas), her queerness (he drains Anna and destroys Harding's family), her psychic disability (he kisses Ellen's heart and drinks from her, reverent and tender). it is a scene steeped in both terror and ecstasy. She is joining Orlok in sin and in death - a twisted version of his proposed eternity; and in doing so, she is ascended.

It is incredibly poignant that, when her power over him is actually shown, it is far more emotional and commonplace than could be expected. There are no torches or stakes, no physical explicit battle; Ellen's unique, magnificent, holy power is merely the ability to ask for "more!.. More!" - and be granted that wish without question. Here, in a monster's embrace, she is valued more than a promotion, or propriety, or even Orlok's own life.

All that to say - Ellen's personal journey through the film does not culminate in a straightforward battle of "victim vs abuser." Despite what a cursory overview might imply, the Final Struggle is a minor aspect; instead, the overwhelming majority of her story revolves around a build-up to a Final Choice. Similar to I Saw The TV Glow, or NBC's Hannibal, or a multitude of other narratives, it explores the balance between the horror of transformation and the horror of staying the same. A monster might grant the first one if you ask, and it will feel like dying - but society's already forced you into the second.

All there is left to do is make damn sure it kills you.

[bewaryofpity]

we all know quinn looks like he’s in a constant state of anxiety so it’s definitely not unlikely that his small, dainty hands have a slight constant tremor too. and you love teasing him about it.

maybe he’s unsure about physical touch in public because he doesn’t really like it and doesn’t want to draw attention to himself, or yourself too, and he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. and you think maybe that’s why his hand shakes a bit when he sneakily interlocks your pinkies together, or the tremble when he puts his hand on the small of your back to lead you through the crowd.

you think it’s cute how nervous he gets, despite being in front of the cameras and talking to reporters more often than not, or the fact that he’s a captain and so he can’t avoid human interactions as much as he would like.

and in the beginning you thought it was all related to being socially shy, not really a fan of talking to strangers and being asked for pictures. but months into your relationship you realize that his hands tremble regardless of the environment he’s in.

you noticed in the mornings when he’d kindly prepare your coffee before he had to leave for practice and he placed your cup in front of you a bit wobbly, but you know a cup of coffee doesn’t weigh that much.

or when he was helping you cook by chopping some vegetables and when you turned around to reach for the salt jar, your eyes glanced at the way his hands were shaking just slightly while scooping the chopped vegetables off the chopping board and into a bowl. maybe his hands were cold or maybe he was nervous for the start of the season the next night, so you left him be.

but then you caught on and you started to take a peek at his hands every change you’d get. like now, both of you sitting on the couch, a random movie you chose as background noise while you read your books and simply enjoying each other’s presence. you take your gaze off the page you’re reading to look at quinn, and you catch a glimpse of his hand turning the page, and it’s obviously shaking just barely.

it’s minimal but you notice, and a smile creeps on your lips. so you do what you do best and drop your book on the coffee table before taking his out of his hands and placing it on top of yours. he’s confused and even more so when you take the blanket off his lap, a what are you doing on his lips.

you reach towards him, steading yourself with your hands on his shoulders before completely plopping down on his lap, his brows furrowing at your sudden change of mood. he’s not really complaining though.

he puts his hands on your hips and you smile, leaning down to place a small peck on the corner of his lips and you keep kissing around his face — left cheek, nose, temple, forehead, right cheek. he’s beaming and you keep kissing him, his hands caressing your hips underneath your hoodie.

and when you start pecking his face more rapidly he begs you to stop, laughing at you, but you don’t, how could you when he’s looking all cute and his hands are still shaking against your skin.

quinn brings one hand to your cheek, parting away from your ever loving lips and you can’t miss the way his fingertips are brushing you before cupping your cheek. this is your opportunity to tease him.

“do i make you nervous, quinny?”

“what?” he’s blushing, your question catching him off guard. “no, why d’you ask?”

“your hands are always shaking.”

he doesn’t even know what to say because yes, his hands do shake, but it’s not because you make him nervous. you do sometimes, because you’re beautiful and you make his heart beat probably too fast in his chest. but his hands? that’s simply because he’s perpetually anxious and no matter what he does, the trembling doesn’t go away.

“yeah.” he says softly.

“so i do make you nervous.” you tease brushing your nose against his. and he groans, trying to hide his face in your shoulder so you wouldn’t tease him more about the growing blush on his cheeks, but you know him like the back of your hand so the natural thing to do is laugh.

“sometimes, but it’s a good nervous.” you can barely hear him, his lips hovering on your skin while he speaks before planting a light kiss on your shoulder.

you run a hand through his hair and you try really hard to suppress the laugh bubbling in your chest because quinn is purring like a cat, but his hands on your hips are still trembling, fingertips brushing at your delicate skin.

a/n: meg said that quinn looks like he has a hand tremor and i had the smallest idea for a blurb @star2fishmeg @capquinn convinced me to write in full :)

[sandyca5tle]

Was having a semi-serious conversation with some friends, and accidentally found myself quoting RWBY in a way that actually helped the discussion at hand, which got me thinking, there's a good few lines in RWBY that are just generally good things for life, so i decided to write a post about it 'cause fuck it. Some'll have commentary some are self explanitary enough. "I'm not any one thing, I'm somewhat of a lot of things" - this was the one that actually sparked this, was talking about identity with a friend, and found this quote very applicable - you don't always have to neatly fit in a box, you can be somewhat several things at once, if that's what fits for you. "Well that embaressment, that desire to go back and tell yourself not to be so stupid, that just proves you're not the same person you used to be. And you're not done growing yet" "You don't have to look cool all the time"

"Of course you are [a real girl]. You think just because you've got nuts and bots instead of squishy guts makes you any less real than me?" - This is less a general life lesson, but more of a 'just because someone is different to you, doesn't make them/their experiences any less real'. And obviously there's the trans angle on this, not being a 'real girl' is an anxiety many trans girls have struggled with, or is something people throw at us to put us down. But just 'cause we're built a little different than cis girls, doesn't make us any less girls "Pyrrha thought that, if there was even the smallest chance of helping someone, that it was a chance worth taking" "I'd be lying if I said that it didn't hurt, that I didn't think about them everyday since I lost them. That I didn't wish I had spent more time with them. If it had been me instead, I know they would have kept fighting too, no matter how dangerous it was, so that's what I choose to do. To keep moving forwards." - Mostly putting this here 'cause it's always nice to have a talk like this regarding grief/loss, and yeah, i just think this is nice and fairly honestly reflection of how a lotta people feel when they lose someone, coupled with the adivce to keep moving forwards. "I'm not asking you to stop. Just please, get some rest, not just for you, but for the people you care about," - I like this one 'cause a) self care is important bitches! Burning yourself out isn't gonna help whatever you're trying to do and b) hurting yourself like that is also gonna hurt those who care for you, 'cause no one wants to see those they care for suffer. So remember to take a break from time to time. "You think you're being selfless, but you're not. Yeah that chameleon friend of yours got me pretty good, but I'd do it all again if it meant protecting you... and I promise Yang would say the same. You can make your own choices sure, but you don't get to make ours. When your friends fight for you, it's because we want to, so stop pushing us out. That hurts more than anything the bad guys could ever do to us," - Obviously the parts about fighting can be taken a little more metaphorically for everyday life, but I like this quote 'cause yeah, the people who are there for you *want* to be there for you, so deciding that you're a burden on them and hiding away/pushing them away is gonna hurt them because they *want to be there for you* - don't decide something for other people. "My losses, my failures, those, more than anything, are what have shaped me into who I am; showed me how I need to grow. If there's something I'm missing it's not because I've lost it, it's 'cause I haven't found it yet" - I just think this is a beautiful line. We've all wished at moments to undo the mistakes we've made, however those mistakes made us the people we are now. And yeah, I love the idea that something you're missing is not because you lost it, it's because you haven't found it yet. "One small kindness, in one small moment, lead to such a marvelous transformation, just like one act of dishonesty caused an unfortunate change" - Reminder that even small actions can mean a lot to others "What happens if I chose me?" "Then maybe, that girl is enough,"

But yeah, all of this to say I love RWBY, it has so many amazing and emotional moments and yeah, if you haven't given it a watch I would highly reccommend (and if you've heard bad things, i'd maybe give it a watch yourself first, a lotta people like to hate on the show in bad faith). But yeah, love RWBY and love all the wonderful moments and messages within it

[dittolicous]

zosan fic idea with a dash of pudding love:

not long post-series, Sanji is working on setting up his own restaurant on the All Blue, with the idea that once everything is built and set up he'll leave it under Zeff's management while Sanji continues to travel as a Strawhat - he's still in his prime, not ready to settle down yet, and wants to be with his nakama! so the crew hangs around while he works and/or helps (Franky is the main shipwright for the new restaurant, Robin's helping scout or interview cooks/employees, Nami's helping set the accounting up, etc.).

enter: Pudding - she spent so long under big mom's control, but is finally free to choose how she wants to live... so when she hears Sanji's looking for cooks, she jumps at the opportunity! its a chance to find herself, completely outside of her family's domain, where she isnt shackled by her past! but its also because she knows Sanji is completely genuine and would never hold anything against her... he makes her feel safe. even if he doesn't stay, its ok. like living under the protection of an emperor, she knows shes safe in his restaurant.

and sue her, she knows she doesn't stand a chance with him (the Strawhat's will ALWAYS come first), but she can crush on her own private time!

Sanji is of course surprised at her wanting to work at his restaurant, and after some short deliberation, decides to hire her. she is an absolutely fabulous and skilled chocolatier in her own right, one of the best (something he does know first hand), and look, he's not Zeff - he doesn't need to kick everyone to run his ship, so there's no issue there XD

the other Strawhats are a little shocked or skeptical, but they trust his judgement... however this doesn't stop Nami from moaning to the others about her concerns and Puddings behavior back at WCI.

this makes Zoro, protective nakama and jealous Sanji lover in denial that he is, is every bit the grouchy guard dog around Pudding. he can clearly see she has a thing for the cook, but he doesn’t trust her worth a damn... so he hangs around like to moss that he is, constantly watching her to make sure theres no funny business

what he doesn't expect is for her and the cook to hit it off like old friends. theyre constantly together talking about.... cook things, working on the restaurant, with the other chefs, nailing down a menu plan, hell, she even seems to be getting along with Zeff! yet that old bastard gives Zoro stink-eyes all the damn time (you bleed out on a guys poarch ONE TIME-)!

it drives him up the fucking wall. his only reprieve is that eventually everything will be set up and they'll leave the restaurant and Pudding behind to continue their adventures.

except, slowly, doubt and anxiety starts to build up

what if the cook changes his mind? what if his new found friendship with his former bride reignites something? what if he realizes just how well suited Pudding is for him and decides to marry her for real?!

what if he decides to stay?!

and it actually terrifies Zoro a little. hes not ready to part from him! he thought he had more time to pine silently and bother the cook to his hearts content! thought they would have a thousand more adventures together before the idea of separating would even grace their minds!

he miiiight be panicing a little (and likely making the witch's life harder with his bitching)

eventually it all comes to a head when Sanji finally picks up on the building tensions/Zoro's dislike for Pudding, which leads to them fighting and a very impromptu, accidental confession from Zoro. and likely a fair amount of property damage. oops. sorry Franky.

once Sanji finishes blue-screening and his brain reboots to this new world where holy fuck Zoro LIKE-LIKES him?! hes able to give his own confession in return and clears up Zoro’s concerns - yes, he likes Pudding but not like that, you idiot, and that in reality, he was actually working closely with her because he was going to make her acting head chef alongside Zeff while Sanji was away! afterall, the old geezer is, well, an old geezer! he could use a young hand to help get everyone in line, and Pudding is no push over! she can give just as good as she can take, while staying cool under pressure. all of which, he could have told Zoro if the idiot had just ASKED.

Zoro is too busy riding the high of reciprocated feelings to care about everything else

bonus: Pudding could see how badly Zoro was pining for Sanji, she's connecting the dots, and purposefully acts flirty with Sanji - not to actually get with him, but to make Zoro jealous enough to actually make a damn move already.

mission: success (it wins her many brownie points with Nami)

[bemusedlybespectacled]

Just for some recommendations:

Tamora Pierce books, at least the Emelan ones, have the concept of a "mind healer" which does exactly that, though it's unclear if it's something like talk therapy or if it's reaching in your brain and moving stuff around with magic. Her books are aimed at teens, so it's not really delved into that deeply, it's just acknowledged as an option (some of her characters have PTSD and need to be told to go to therapy, basically)

Alexandra Rowland/@ariaste's book A Taste Of Gold And Iron is set in a fictional society where talk therapy is a religious ritual called "unburdening," though there are gaps in their understanding of mental health (like, there's no word for or cultural concept of "anxiety attack"). That book does have explicit scenes showing how it works. Honestly 10/10 worldbuilding for both that and everything else (y'all have no idea how hype I get about fictional politics) Note that THAT book is for adults, JSYK.

i don't understand why more fantasy worlds don't have therapists. i mean, they have the fantasy equivalent of a doctor, which is a healer. so why not a therapist?

there's so much potential to integrate it with the fantasy elements too.

you could do exposure therapy, for example, with the help of illusions. imagine someone is deathly afraid of dragons because of a childhood incident, but they really want to overcome this phobia.

the therapist could conjure up illusions, working from a small abstract dragon to a big realistic one, and help the client progressively become more relaxed around the illusion dragon before they meet a real one.

or imagine a character is grieving a dead loved one, and they never got closure from this person. maybe they wanted to tell this person something and never got the chance to. or maybe the person is not dead, but it's best to sever that tie instead of trying to talk to them again.

in this scenario, the therapist could shapeshift into the person the client wants to talk to, and give the client a bit of closure.

mind reading could be practiced with the client's consent, so that the therapist could tap into blocked memories or an incident that the client is too traumatized to talk about.

there's just so much untapped potential and it's driving me crazy. maybe some stories have done this, but none that i've seen so far. and i want more people to recognize this potential so that we can have more therapists in our favorite tragic fantasy shows.

[milkbobatyun]

des fleurs pour vous — some flowers for you

pairing: neuvillette x reader

genre: fluff

summary: with a little bit of help, maybe neuvillette can win your heart

word count: 812

a/n: first post of the new year! hope everything goes well for everyone this year :D just an fyi that i might be posting less this year cus i'm in my final year of school ( ˶°ㅁ°) !! (it's gone by so fast oml) and i need to prepare for the exams ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ )

neuvillette who doesn’t understand why he feels so nervous when he sees you. to this ancient dragon of old, he cannot fathom the reason why his mouth dries up and his palms become sweaty. every time he catches sight of you, the corners of his mouth twitch up involuntarily. butterflies brew a storm in his stomach as his heart dances erratically in his chest.

neuvillette who confides in the melusines about the foreign illness that has befallen him. in front of neuvillette, the melusines assure him, promising to do their best to cure him of this sickness that leaves his face burning and his ears flushed with red.

the moment his intimidating figure leaves the room, the melusines are huddling with their heads close together, whispering and brainstorming ideas.

“monseiur neuvillette has fallen in love!” menthe gasps dramatically, her tiny paws covering. the other melusines fawn over the notion, covering their mouths with their little paws, swooning over the fantasies their imagination has created. they’re overjoyed that the impartial iudex has found his other half, but without their help, this romance was heading nowhere.

after countless brainstorms and head whacks later, the melusines have a fool-proof plan. operation fleurs, they called it.

neuvillette who begins to think that he is losing his mind or getting too old for the job when he finds leaflets of local florist shops hidden between the legal files. when he’s pulling out books to consult, torn pages of various romance novels fall out, all citing love confessions, with one book on his desk even being swapped to “how to confess your love 101”.

neuvillette who after much coaxing from the melusines, decides to sit down at his desk, face impassive as he struggles to write a letter to convey his feelings. the melusines are ready to slam their heads on the table as they painfully watch the chief justice, who can hand down sanctions and orders without a moment of hesitation, is now terrified as he hopelessly stares at the blank pages, praying to the archons that he can express his feelings properly.

neuvillette who writes you such a formal letter stating that he wishes to meet you, that when you received it, you feared for the worst. as you stand beside the fontaine of lucine, anxiety gnaws at your stomach. did you do something wrong? were you about to lose your lawyer license? such thoughts chased each other in your mind, a silent mantra of your worst nightmares.

neuvillette who is so nervous about talking to you that he’s secretly mapping out 476 different escape routes and praying to the hydro archon that maybe today, at this exact moment, furina needs him for an urgent meeting.

your stomach drops when you see what could be described as neuvillette marching towards you, face set and stern, his arms held behind his back. somewhere in the back of your mind, your humour tries to throw light on the moment, silently commenting on how he looks like an old man eith his stance.

neuvillette, whose throat has dried up in fear and from the nerves that he has to awkwardly cough, but you’re so wound up by what is going on and end up jumping to conclusions, so you immediately begin bowing profusely and muttering apologies for some phantom mistake that you made.

neuvillette who gets so flustered he doesn't know what to respond and is reassuring you that you’re not in trouble. the melusines, who are very well hidden behind some bushes, are about to resort violence after hearing the both of you apologise to each other for the 500th time that day.

the melusines end up so frustrated with neuvillette’s lack of courage that they pop out from behind the bush and expose him to the whole of fontaine (there was only two other people there at the time)

a loud shout pierces through the tranquil barble of the fountain. 

“OH MY ARCHONS, HES SO STUPIDLY IN LOVE WITH YOU HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO FUNCTION WHEN HE SEES YOU!”

the outburst from the usually softly spoken and quiet melusines leaves the two of you in stunned silence. your face is one of confusion as you point to yourself, as though trying to confirm what your ears heard. 

when you look from the melusines to neuvillette to double check, scarlet red has coated his ears, warmth exploding over his face. hiding his face behind in embarrassment, neuvillette clears his throat before unveiling the bouquet of flowers he had hidden behind his back.

“well, it seems we started off with the wrong impressions, i sincerely wish that you forgive me for this. human emotion is…so difficult to grasp, but i believe this human tradition of giving flowers is meant to express… love? thus, i do hope that you may present me with the chance to court you?”

∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳)  © curated with love by milkbobayun 2025 / づ ♡