#does this make sense? I hope this makes sense

[harmoonix]

S T A R G I R L

ʀᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ ᴀꜱᴛʀᴏʟᴏɢʏ ᴏʙꜱᴇʀᴠᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ

🧊 Those who are ruled by Jupiter or have Jupiter as a dominant planet have it easier in life since Jupiter grants luck, happiness, prosperity. This depends also if you have good aspects to Jupiter

🧊 if you are favored by Mars (Having Mars in a good sign like Aries, Scorpio, Capricorn) there is a chance to have less fights/arguments/drama in your life, depends on the aspects of your mars

🧊 Saturn ruled natives have dark aura, dark does not equal bad, is just darkness, their beauty relise in the dark, is always secretive and mysterious

🧊 Lilith aspecting the ascendant can be prone to attract toxic people, some people can also think that you can be 'toxic' or 'bad' with these placements

🧊 Mars can feel more lazy when is around an earth sign/house or degree, it moves more slowly than usual

🧊 Pluto/Moon or Neptune in the 9H can be attracted by occult, magic, withcraft, tarot, etc. These placements are also called 'bewitched' in this house

🧊 I find natives with Pluto or Saturn in the 11H to be very secretive around their friends and social circles, like nobody knows them truly

🧊 If Pluto is in the 10H and badly aspected can indicate 'power - hungry' doing anything to obtain what they want which is not good in most cases

🧊 Jupiter aspecting your ascendant can bless your appearance and looks, something about you is beautifully written in the stars

🧊 I know people who have lots of Virgo Placements that would like to work in fields where they can help others, like a therapist, a doctor, etc

🧊 If you have no aspects or empty North Node, it can indicate that your life is not that much impacted by things, like going flawlessly with your life

🧊 If you have Lilith aspecting the Sun, you can end up being blamed for things you never did, Lilith usually takes the bad part of the sun which represents the ego and turns it against others

🧊 I know by a fact that air and water placements can get influenced by the weather, it can influence their mood the most

🧊 Neptune/Chrion/Sun in the 12H/1H can make the native to be moody in a sense of getting into a depressed state easily than others

🧊 People with their Moons in Sagittarius or Pisces may like to sugarcoat others, in a way to be more 'indulgent' to others and to keep their hopes high both being ruled by Jupiter

🧊 I don't usually talk about synastry but looking at the Venus in a couple synastry chart can show how your partner gives/offers love to you

🧊 Venus in Sagittarius, Gemini, Aquarius can have the best luck in finding partners who will give them freedom in a relationship, since your Venus can show 'lovely' things your spouse can do for you

🧊 Saturn conjucting Lilith is one of the most painful placements to have in a chart. Everything that Saturn touches it becomes strict. It can strict yourself from your sexual energy

🧊 Lilith in your 4H can talk about breaking bad things from your family, like habits, addictions, trauma

🧊 I deeply wanna talk about Scorpio and Cancer Lilith because both of these have issues with their emotions, feeling safe/secure comforted, lacking love from parents or partners, both signs struggle in these areas and these are not easy signs to have Lilith in, especially if you have a traumatic history

🧊 Uranus and Moon in the 6H are planets which pay a lot of attention to their mental health, they always prioritize it

🧊 Libra Moon/Venus/Eros/Juno will feel dissatisfied in life if they don't have a sensual/romantic connection with their partners

🧊 a Scorpio moon/8h moon will value intimacy a lot in their relationships, beside being important, is also a healthy way to express themselves

🧊 Saturn in Virgo or in the 6h, or at 6° 18° may struggle with organization, finding an order in their lives, can be chaotic and the person may find peace in a chaotic environment with this placement

🧊 Saturn in the 12H/Pisces/ at 12° 24° makes a native to be confused, about their life, their career, job, family, relationship. Is like you live in a fog and you can't see the things you have around so these things can confuse you

🧊 Mars is a cruel planet, is not a sweet candy and will not stay to sugarcoat nobody in life, Mars will put action in your life

🧊 Sun harshly aspecting the Neptune can indicate 'hiding' yourself from the world, you can be anxious around others, not wanna be seen

🧊 Your 4H can talk about your home and the way you take care of it, having harsh aspects to your 4H ruler can indicate having a hard time to take care of your house

🧊 Scorpio Venus can be invested in their partners sexual life, your partner may not give the same energy back to you while you may crave it

🧊 Earth Signs in the 12H may deal with their subconscious more harshly, they can constantly judging themselves and being critical which is a pain for your subconscious. Give yourself a break from all the negative things

🧊 Jupiter and Venus aspects match so good if you're looking for a partner or a relationship, you can be blessed with a good marriage as well

🧊 I heard that a good time to look for a relationship is when you have your Jupiter Return or that most people find their love during one

🧊 Saturn in the 8H/Scoprio or at 8° 20° can struggle with their sexuality, in a way that they may feel shameful to be sexual or to be more opened about these topics

🧊 Capricorn Risings usually have better years with the time, you can actually observe that the next year can be better than the last one

🧊 Chiron in the 7H have the power to heal their partners and their relationships/marriage

🧊 Every time Mars has a transit in your 10H you may feel like people have something against you or that you may feel everyone around you is angry on something

🧊 The sad thing that comes with a Venus in the 6h/10h in a relationship may be that either you or your spouse may overwork and you will not have that much time to spend with each other, someone will always be more focused on work

🧊 'All night you gave me mad love' is an Aries Mars/Venus/Eros/Juno melody line, it fits with the Aries behavior

🧊 Pluto conjunct Lilith can make the native sexually powerful, your sexual energy is everything!

🧊 Aquarius Risings have an inner magic that not all the people can see, you need to be close to them in order to see their energy

🧊Aries/Scorpio/Mars/Pluto/Capricorn/Saturn in the 3H wont hold back from calling peolpe out, talking dirty, cussing, malefics are more in anger in the house of communication

🧊Earth Suns are so classic, so sophisticated, their fashion style is extremely beautiful, you should wear more gold to be in more earthy energy

🧊 I do not trust any uranus dominat/aquarius placements natives who are racist, sexist, homophobic, you know all these against the human right. (Usually i dont stand any people who are like this)... Like Uranus and Aquarius stand for being humanitarian and you are against it? JAIL and GOODBYE

🧊If you are Saturn dominant make sure to wear more black or dark colors because thats how saturn feels more appreciated by you, can bring you more benefits

Have a blessed day for everyone reading my astrology observations 💙💙💙

Harm💙💙nix

[godsfavdarling]

waiting for the day to end

my masterlist

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader summary: You and Spencer come back to his apartment, and your boyfriend’s drunken state brings old wounds to the surface. words: 2,3k warnings: angst, panic attack, drunk Spencer, mentions reader's ex-bf who was an alcoholic, no y/n a/n: I'm imagining later seasons Spence but I am not gonna yuck anybody's yum!

You smoothly place the keys in the lock of his apartment and quickly turn them twice to unlock the door. The dark room abruptly brightens when you flick the light switch on.

Spencer, who has been leaning against the wall near you, stumbles into the room right behind you.

The door slams shut behind him, the thud reverberating through the room.

You flinch, spinning around at the jarring sound.

“Sorry,” Spencer mumbles, a bit unsteady.

He throws himself onto the armchair with a heavy sigh, his head lolling back as he closes his eyes.

You murmur under your breath, “I’ll get you some water,” and head toward the kitchen, your heels clacking against the floor. 

In the quiet, you take a few deep breaths to steady yourself before filling two glasses of water. 

When you bring them back, you hand one to Spencer, urging him to drink. He gulps it down immediately, nearly draining the glass in one go.

You’ve never really seen him like this.

Spencer rarely—almost never—drinks. But tonight, it’s obvious just how far gone he is. He’s coherent enough to hold himself up, and his words still make sense, but you can tell he isn’t fully present. 

He was already fading hours ago, just an hour into dinner at Rossi's when his team had convinced him to relax and celebrate Garcia’s birthday with a few drinks.

Now, he’s staring off into space, eyes glassy, a faint smile still lingering from whatever joke had last drifted through his mind. You swallow, feeling the anxiety tug at you.

You felt it early on. But you tried to ignore it.

Spencer was different. 

He was responsible and careful. He liked being sober and in control. He was someone who avoided excess.

He was not a drunk. 

You knew all this and tried to stay rational. 

After his third drink, though, all that rationality flew out the window. With the last gulp of his third drink, you decided to excuse yourself, claiming you weren't feeling well, and spent most of the evening outside. The poker game was so intense that no one really questioned you or bothered to check on you.

You had thought, knowing Spencer’s sharp observation skills, that he would come find you shortly and ask what was wrong. He always did. He could always tell when something was off and always wanted to know. But tonight, he didn’t.

You waited, each minute stretching longer than the last, hoping he’d realize and come find you, that he’d be his usual self. But as the laughter and clinking glasses carried on from inside, you realized he was somewhere you couldn’t reach him tonight.

As you watched him now, slouched in the armchair with you far away from him sitting on the edge of the couch, your heart ached. 

This wasn’t the Spencer you knew. He was lost in his thoughts, barely acknowledging your presence. You handed him your glass of water, and he took it with a mumbled "thanks", sipping it more slowly this time.

“Spencer, are you okay?” you finally asked, unable to keep the concern out of your voice.

He looked up at you, his eyes a bit clearer but still distant. “Yeah, just... tired,” he replied, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

You nodded, but the anxiety still sat inside you.

Stop!

Spencer is not him! 

He is nothing like him!

You keep staring at him, fidgeting with your fingers and the hem of your black velvet dress, feeling helpless as you try to guess what he wants. 

Is he going to stay here for a while? Does he need more water? Is he going to shower, or maybe just head to bed?

Finally, Spencer glances up, his gaze focusing on you as if for the first time tonight. His brows knit together as he notices the anxious look in your eyes. 

"What’s wrong?" he asks, his voice soft but tinged with confusion.

You swallow, feeling a rush of emotions you’ve been holding back all evening. He’s looking at you now, really looking, like he usually does, but something about his unsteady, drunken state makes you hesitate. 

He’s here, yet somehow not fully here, and you’re not sure how to answer.

You force a smile, shrugging as if it’s nothing, but your heart pounds. "Just… tired, I guess."

Spencer’s gaze doesn’t waver, and you know he sees through your answer, even in his state. 

Now he sees. 

He’s silent, watching you with a slight frown like he’s trying to piece together a puzzle. The quiet stretches between you, heavy and thick.

You glance away, twisting the hem of your dress tighter. 

"Maybe you should get some rest," you say, your voice barely more than a whisper. You try to keep the tremor out, but it’s there. A lot of it.

He’s never seen you like this—not this vulnerable, this close to tears. You’ve not been dating that long. A lot of things are still unknown, unsaid, unshared and the toxic, drunk but highly functioning, unpredictable boyfriends have not yet come out in any conversation.

"I’ll be fine," Spencer mutters, rubbing his face with one hand as he sinks further into the chair.

His words are gentle, but they’re not the reassurance you’re aching for. 

You wish he’d tell you he’d never do this again, that he understands why this is hard for you. But he doesn’t. He just looks at you, distant and hazy.

A lump forms in your throat as the silence presses down on you. You stand up, needing some distance, and force a tight smile. "I’ll let you get some sleep. I’ll go… take a walk or something."

As you turn to leave, Spencer reaches out, his fingers brushing your arm. "Hey," he murmurs, his voice soft but unsteady. "It’s like 2 AM. You’re not going anywhere alone."

You stop, frozen, a tightness forming in your chest. You want to say it’s fine, that you just need space, but the words feel like they’re stuck in your throat. Instead, he continues, unaware of how badly his presence is affecting you right now.

“Let’s take a walk together. It’ll help,” he offers, his voice tinged with concern, though still a little slurred.

You turn sharply, frustration and something darker bubbling up in your chest. “No!” you snap, louder than you intended, the word echoing in the quiet room. You instantly regret it, but the hurt is too raw, too overwhelming. You try to swallow the sudden surge of emotion, but it’s too much.

You finally realize that his hand in on your arm, and the realization hits like a cold wave. You feel an intense rush of discomfort. You don’t want him near you right now. 

The feeling of his fingers on your skin, even though they’re meant to comfort, feels wrong.

You can’t breathe. You can’t handle his touch, not like this, not after everything that’s happened. You jerk away, backing up, your heart hammering.

Without a word, you turn and storm toward the bathroom. You lock the door behind you and lean against it for a second, trying to steady your breath. 

The walls feel like they’re closing in, the anger and fear swirling inside you until you can hardly tell the difference between the two.

It’s not his fault, you think, taking a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside your chest.

He’s just drunk, he’ll be sober soon, but... why does it still feel so wrong?

You press your hands to your face, feeling the tears already starting to form.

I’m not that person anymore. I’m not going to let this take me back. I can’t let it.

Your thoughts race, but you force yourself to focus, turning the shower on. The sound of the water helps. 

You quickly but clumsily step out of the dress and underwear, leaving them in a heap on the tiles. 

You step under the hot spray, closing your eyes, letting the warmth soothe the tension in your muscles.

Just wash it off, just wash it off, you tell yourself as if the water could cleanse more than just your skin.

You’re lost in the sensation of the water for long minutes when there’s a gentle knock on the bathroom door. 

You freeze. Your heart skipping a beat.

“Hey… uh… I really need to pee,” Spencer calls out, his voice even softer than before.

You swallow, fighting the panic rising in your throat, and quickly shut off the water. You wrap a towel around your body and open the door just enough for you to slip past him. Without a word, you go into the bedroom and gracelessly put on one of the shirts you left in his drawer.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow everything will be fine, you think, climbing into bed, curling up under the covers. 

You just want this day to end. You need it to end.

Then it hits you—you’re in his bed.

You stand up and then sit again on the edge.

You should go home. You should be in your own bed. You want to get up, gather your things, get dressed, and leave, but you're paralyzed. You're overwhelmed. You can’t breathe. You can’t move.

Then Spencer walks into the room, his gaze landing on you. As if he can read the turmoil in your mind, he says softly, "It's late. Stay here tonight. Take the bed. I’ll take the couch."

You don’t say anything, unable to find the words.

He pauses, watching you for a moment, before quietly pulling his pajamas from the closet and heading into the bathroom.

You just need to sleep. You’ll sleep it off, and when you wake up, things will make sense again. Maybe Spencer will apologize. 

Apologize for what?

He didn’t do anything wrong.

He’ll be sober. Everything will go back to normal.

But sleep doesn’t come. The bed feels cold, and the silence in the room is suffocating. You can’t shake the thoughts in your head.

What if he doesn’t remember?

What if he won’t leave it and you’ll have to explain and he’ll be angry?

Why are you angry?

Why are you upset?

Just as you're about to give up on sleep altogether, you hear the soft creak of the door opening. Spencer slips into the room quietly, his footsteps hesitant. He walks to the bed, sitting down beside you without saying anything at first.

"Are you asleep?" he asks quietly, his voice gentle, almost too careful. You feel his gaze on you, even though you’re facing the window, your back to him.

You don’t answer at first. You don’t want to talk to him right now. You don’t want to explain why everything feels broken. You don’t want him to ask.

But you can feel him there, his presence. 

Finally, he speaks again, his voice low but steady. “Please... can we talk? I don't wanna go to bed with you upset and angry.”

You don’t move, staring into the dark. You wish you could say the right thing. You wish you could fix it, but all you feel is a dull ache in your chest, and the thought that maybe nothing will ever be the same again.

Spencer’s hand reaches out, his fingers trembling slightly as he hesitates for a moment before gently moving toward you. "Hey, I—" His voice cracks, and you can hear the sorrow in it, the regret, the helplessness.

But as his arms come closer, something inside you recoils. You can’t have him near you right now. Not like this. Not when everything feels so wrong.

You flinch, turning away from him instinctively, the words coming out before you even have a chance to stop them. “Please don’t touch me.”

The words hang between you like a heavyweight. 

Spencer freezes, his hand hovering in mid-air, and for a second, everything is still. You can hear his breathing — shallow, uneven — as if he’s trying to understand, trying to process what just happened.

You don’t want him to feel hurt, but you can’t help it. You feel exposed, vulnerable, like a raw nerve, and his touch, even if it's meant to comfort, feels suffocating.

“Okay,” Spencer finally says, his voice small, resigned. He pulls his hand back slowly, as though giving you space to breathe. 

You don’t look at him. You can’t. 

“I’m sorry,” he adds, his voice distant now, like he’s trying to find his footing again. “I just... I’m not sure what happened. I know hurt you. I don’t know how but I’m sorry.”

The silence lingers, thick and uncomfortable, wrapping itself around both of you. Spencer hesitates for a long moment, unsure of what to do or say next. You can feel his eyes on you, but you don’t lift yours. 

Finally, he clears his throat softly.

“I’ll... I’ll sleep on the couch tonight,” he says, his voice gentle and careful like he’s trying not to disturb the fragile air between you.

“It’s okay. If you want to talk... or anything... just come and tell me. I’ll be here.”

You don’t say anything. You still don’t look at him. But you can hear the sincerity in his voice, the aching honesty of it.

If only his words, his willingness to be there even when you’ve pushed him away could make things better.

But you don’t answer him, because you don’t have the strength to. You don’t know what to say.

Spencer sighs quietly, almost like a final surrender, and then you hear his footsteps moving away from you.

The door opens and closes softly behind him, and you’re left alone in the silence of the room once more.

Spencer’s words echo in your mind, but they don’t bring comfort. Not yet. 

[qussymagnet]

Yes!!!! Starting with a statement that you can actually believe is so powerful.

Fun fact, I used to be suicidal. I didn't want to live. And it made sense, I was in a terribly abusive situation, and having no frame of reference otherwise, life seemed pointless and hollow. There really didn't seem to be any chance for it to get better.

I waited until I was home alone. I took a knife and put it to my wrist. I pressed it in a little, not breaking skin but feeling the pinch of the metal. It terrified me. I couldn't act. I was too scared that it would hurt, and too considerate about the idea of someone - even someone terrible - needing to find me that way. So, I stood there by myself for a while staring out of the sink window at my bleak life, just thinking.

First, I thought about how cowardly I felt for not being able to even kill myself. Which, yes, I recognize is not a healthy thought lol. But, eventually I thought, Well... if I want to kill myself, it certainly can't get worse, right? Maybe I should stick around and see if something cool happens. I could always kill myself later if it turns out I was wrong.

And yes, thinking to yourself, I could always kill myself later is not in any way a positive thought lol, but it was something. It was a step away from I want to end my life right now. It was a willingness to hope and just wait and see what happened. It was, yes, leaving the door open. And leaving the door open meant that I was alive long enough to have things happen that made me happy to be alive.

At first it was small things, like an especially pretty soft rain, a sunrise, or seeing a cute animal. Then, it was other things, like pursuing an art degree, making friends, falling in love. Then, it became things like, learning boundaries, separating myself from abusive people, going to trauma therapy, and learning to respect my needs.

The road was messy and painful. These things are not easy to unlearn. And the demon called suicide ideation does still occasionally lurk outside my window when I'm having an especially bad time. But, finally, I loved myself. I cherish my life and the people in it. And I want to stick around as long as possible.

Please, start with what you can honestly believe in. You don't have to perform positivity for anyone. But, keep the door open. Tomorrow may show you something better than today.

one of the best ways i’ve found to combat that inherent depressive pessimism without veering into toxic positivity territory is simply the phrase “i’m open to the possibility”

this particularly works with anything negative i’ve forecasted. “i woke up feeling like shit today, so my day is gonna suck” isn’t a particularly helpful thought, but “it’s a great day to be alive!!!!!” feels hollow and insincere when i have a pounding headache & am running on three hours of sleep

instead i’ll tell myself, “i really don’t feel good right now, but i’m open to the possibility that coffee and breakfast might perk me up a bit.” or “i’m in a lot of pain today, but i’m open to the possibility that my workday might still have fun parts despite that”

sometimes, when your impulse is to slam the door on anything good, but you’re not exactly up to going out & hunting it down yourself, leaving the door open just a crack makes all the difference

[darkbluekies]

In the hands of a madman 2024 ver

Doctor!yandere oc x reader

Summary: a doctor is very peculiar about his favorite patient, and senses a threat once they disobey him.

Warnings: yandere, poison, murder, cuff restraints

Word count: 2.4k

You gag.

“Yes, yes, I know”, he coos, grimacing and removes the wooden stick out of your mouth. “I’m sorry.”

You're left with a bitter taste in your mouth. Why does he always stick that thing as far down your throat as humanly possible? You thank heavens that it’s not one of the needles extracting blood from your arm, although you’re sure that’s what’s waiting tomorrow.

“Still nothing?” you ask cautiously. 

He meets your eyes and you know immediately. You sigh heavily. Your heart sinks to your stomach. 

Every three months, he’s doing all sorts of tests to see if you’re getting better — or what’s what he’s saying. Every three months, Dr Kry has to check every vital sign on you to make sure that his sickness isn’t getting out of his control. But you don’t like them. They hurt. Badly.

“Will I ever get to go home? I want to.” 

Dr Kry sighs and sits down on his rolling stool, coming over to your bed.

“I know you do, but you that’s not possible”, he says apologetically. “You know that too.”

“Yeah, because you keep reminding me”, you mutter. 

“That’s better than giving you false hope, isn’t it? Wouldn’t that drive you insane?”

It would, but you don’t say it out loud. Doesn’t need to.

“I want to go home!” you say again, louder this time. 

“Saying it louder won’t make you better or me change my mind”, Dr Kry says. 

You sigh and press your palms to your eyes, trying to press the tears back into your eyes before they escape. You’ve been here for too long by now. You’ve been isolated for so incredibly long. ALl you want is to go home. You know no one, talk to no one beside him. The proper, sophisticated man who’s stiffer than a stick. Dr Kry sighs and moves closer. 

“I know that you’re disappointed”, he says and puts his large hand on your shoulder. “But this is for the best. “I don’t want you to get worse.”

“I hate these fucking tests! They hurt.”

“I know.”

He glances towards the white air purifier on the shelf beside the bed. The poisoned air purifier. He’s always making sure it’s not too much, not too little. Just the exact amount to keep you where he wants you — weak and vulnerable, dependent on him. 

“I know it’s hard”, he says encouragingly. “I know that you’re in pain, but you’re doing so good. You can always call for me if you need me, okay? I’m available all day and night for you.”

You press forward a smile, but can’t help but feel a wave of sadness wash over you. Why did this happen to you? Where did you go wrong to end up here? How could a sore throat get you bed bound in a hospital room? If only you knew. 

“Let’s get you tucked in again”, Dr Kry says and helps you lie down in bed. “You shouldn’t be putting to much pressure on your body.”

He pushes up your pillows, having you lie in a 45-degree angle. It helps you breathe at night. He always tucks the blanket close to your body, as if you were a butterfly in a cocoon. He gives you a small smile before standing up. 

“Please don’t go”, you whisper. “I don’t want to be left here.”

The man looks at you, studies you carefully before nodding and sitting back down. He wipes your lonely tear with his finger. He looks at his wet finger, thinking. 

“I feel helpless”, you admit. “I don’t think I’ll ever get well again.”

Little do you know that’s exactly what he wants. 

“It’s okay, Y/N”, he says. “I will take care of you. I will stay with you until you’re well again.”

He has to force back a smile. 

“I don’t want to do these anymore”, you say monotonously. 

“I know you don’t, but you have to”, Dr Kry says apologetically and moves closer to the bed on his rolling stool. “They’re important.”

“They hurt …”

“I know, but you’re doing so good, okay? I’m so proud of you.”

You give him a small, painful smile. 

“I’ll sit here until you fall asleep, don’t worry”, he says. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You close your eyes slowly. He fades out. 

He takes blood tests the following day. Needles, pain.

“Now, you need to take a nap”, he says and tucks you in. 

The daily afternoon nap. You hate it, but he insists. While you sleep, he’s out taking care of other patients that are not you. He hates it, hates wasting his time and skill on people that aren’t you. Those patients are one time patients that are there for surgeries, consultations or checkups. No long term patients that have to stay in the hospital. Everyone gets to leave after he meets them. Everyone but you. You stay. 

You keep your eyes closed until Dr Kry leaves the room. Quickly, you sit up and get out of bed. After all these fucking tests, you’re deserving of something else than the tasteless cardboard Dr Kry gets you. Just one brownie. Something that has sugar. And maybe some coffee for caffeine too. 

Quietly, you sneak out into the corridor. There’s something about these sterile passageways that makes the hair on your back stand on its end. Is it the dehumanized area or the fact that you’re never allowed here? Is it nerves or excitement? Whatever it is, you decide to speed up your steps and hurry towards the elevators before anyone sees you. They’ll tell him. Just as the doors are about to close, someone stops the doors. A boy dressed in a similar hospital gown as yourself forces his way into the elevator. He gives you a rushed, apologetic smile. 

“Sorry”, he says sheepishly. “I am in a hurry.”

“What happened to you?” you ask and smile halfly. 

“I escaped from the therapist. A real pain in my ass.”

You can’t help but giggle. The young man licks his lips and runs a hand through his hair. 

“Have you met her?” he asks. “The therapist?”

“No”, you say. 

You haven’t met anyone but your stiff and proper doctor. 

“Don’t”, the young man advices you and leans his back against the wall. “She’s mental. I honestly think she should be the one getting interrogated — not me.” He looks at you, eyes narrowing. “I haven’t seen you before.”

“Do you meet others?” you ask. 

“In the lounge. Have you been there?”

You shake your head and lower your eyes. 

“Did you just arrive?” the man asks. 

You shake your head again. 

“How long have you been here?”

“A while.”

The elevator stops and the doors open at your floor. 

“Are you going to the cafeteria?” the man asks. 

“Yes”, you reply. 

“I’m coming with you. Maybe you can help me blend in.”

“Okay.”

The boy seems frantic, but happy. Running on adrenaline and excitement. Together, you walk through the hospital to the cafeteria and realize that you don’t have any money. Your shoulders fall. Did you come here for nothing? 

“Aren’t you going to order something?” the young man asks. 

“I don’t know”, you reply quietly. 

Before you have the time to come up with a lie why you can’t order anything, you recognise something in the corner of your eye. A blonde man dressed in a white robe. You feel your blood run cold. 

“What do we have here?” Dr Kry asks and you have a hard time reading his tone or facial expressions. “What do you think you are doing out of bed?”

He walks over to you and grabs your shoulder. You flinch. His grip is … tight. Painful. 

“You’re supposed to rest”, Dr Kry says shortly.

He looks at the young man. His eyes seem to go right through him. 

“Where are you supposed to be?” he asks. 

He doesn’t answer. Dr Kry gives him a cold gaze before grabbing your upper arm in a tight grip. He doesn’t say anything as he starts to pull you with him. His steps are quick, steady. Angry. 

“Doctor …”, you try.

He doesn’t answer. Dr Kry pushes you into the elevator and presses the button. He doesn't let go of your arm.

“Doctor, I’m sorry”, you say. 

He still doesn’t answer. You barely dare to look at him. There’s something about his face that scares you. It's stoic, unreadable. But he oozes anger. Like a dark cloud.

The elevator stops, the doors open. His tight grip remains as he drags you back into your room.

“Lay down”, he instructs shortly.

You do, too scared to disobey. Dr Kry walks past you, to the drawers by your bed. He rips out two leather bands that look like belts for dolls. Before you're aware of what he's doing, he's strapped one of your wrists to the bed railing.

“Wait, doctor-”, you blurt out.

“Be quiet.”

He locks your other wrist to the other railing. You tug at the restraints, and find them secure.

“Are they too tight?” Dr Kry asks, still with that short tone that sends icy needles down your spine.

“Doctor, what are you-?”

“Answer the question. Do they hurt?”

“No.”

“Good.”

He turns to his desk, ignoring you.

“Doctor, I'm sorry”, you say.

“You broke my trust”, he says without giving you any attention. “It's important, for your healing, that you do not deceive me. I need to be able to trust that you do as I say. How many times have you done this?”

“Only this time, I promise.”

He doesn't answer. You feel how your eyes fill with tears. Your body is in such a vulnerable state that your body betrays you. You didn't want to upset him, didn't want to put your own health at risk by doing this. 

“I'm sorry, doctor”, you sniffle. “I didn't mean to break your trust.”

He sighs and turns his head to look at you. His blue eyes soften and he rises from his chair, coming over to your bed. He can't stay mad at you, not when you're clearly dumb. You don't understand, he can't be mad at you for not understanding. He should — and is — mad at himself for not foreseeing these situations and making sure you don't do it.

“You know that I only want what's best for you, don't you?” he asks and wipes your tears with his hand.

“Yes”, you reply.

“In that case, I want you to never repeat this mistake. Mistakes are forgivable, but they should be minimized, do you understand that?”

“Yes. Do you forgive me?”

He has to force back a smile. You're so unbelievably cute.

“Yes, I do forgive you”, he says. 

“Can you take off the restraints?”

“No. I might forgive you, but I need you to know what happens once mistakes occur. This is the consequences that follow. If I can't trust you to be where I want you to be, I need to take precautions to make sure you are.”

You lower your gaze.

“Who was that, by the way?” he asks. “That young … man. Why did you speak to him?”

“I don't know, he took the same elevator as me.”

“I don't want you to speak with him again. If he's the one they're looking for, I don't want you getting influenced by his reckless ideas.”

“I don't get to speak to anyone, anyways.”

“And that's how it should be. We don't know why you're sick, and you shouldn't contaminate someone else.”

“What about you, then? You can get sick too.”

“I'm ready to take that risk.”

He's too nice, you think. All he wants is to take care of you and you put his selfless risks to hell when you decide to disobey him. How horrible of you.

“Now, you need to take that nap for real”, he says. “I will sit by my desk. If you need something you can just let me know.”

He walks back to his desk and sits down, starting to file some paperwork. You tug at the restraints. You're not going anywhere.

When you’ve fallen asleep, Dr Kry makes his way through the hospital. They’ve captured that young man and put him back into his room … and Dr Kry wants a talk with him. He opens the door quietly. The young lays in bed, sleeping. Dr Kry circles around him, taking a good look at him. Did you find him cute? Hot? Did you like talking to him? Did you think that he was better than him? Did you enjoy those ten minutes with him more than these months with Kry? Do you want to meet with him again? He glares at the sleeping man. Dr Kry walks over to the supply closet, an identical to the one in your room, and takes out one of the spare pillows. Silently, he walks over to the bed, lifts the pillow and presses it over the young man’s face. He widen his eyes, pulled out of his slumber. He screams against the pillow, his voice getting muffled in the fabric. 

“Normally, I’d make this easy for you”, Dr Kry grunts as the man starts to fight against him. “Out of pity, but you don’t deserve that mercy.”

He screams in confusion, fear. Dr Kry can make out words. What. No. Help. Stop.

“Just give in and give yourself that mercy”, Dr Kry continues. “If you continue to fight against me, you’ll be in more pain.”

The man cries. Dr Kry breaks out into a smile. 

“You’re going to die either way, you can choose to end it quicker.”

The young man doesn’t seem to get the memo. He continues to fight, cry, plead. He drinks it all in. The horror, the helplessness. The dear in headlight. He has seen the light in people’s eyes disappear multiple times during his job as a doctor. To see the moment someone becomes just a piece of flesh. He has never enjoyed it as much as now. The man stops moving. Dr Kry removes the pillow and takes a step back, looking at the lifeless body. He breathes out. Finally, he can calm down. 

And now, all he needs to do is to make sure he can not be traced back. 

He finds you sleeping soundly as he comes back to your room, wrists still locked to the sides of the bed. You make his heart ache. He sits down beside you, brushing his fingertips over your cheek. 

I control your life, my little one. You’re going to say with me and I’ll take every repercussion to make sure you don’t disappear. 

[pieofdeath]

wild that we got the dsmp download. but like. also. how much are we going to be able to see? does that make sense.

we can't visit lmanburg. or new lmanburg. exile's exploded but the tower is there. michael is missing. we can go to erets museum but its not the same. so much of the server is lost just by the nature of it. we can experience the after and we watched the during but. we only get the end of the story. ough. i hope this makes sense.

[arminsumi]

... hubby!Gojo with a huge breeding kink who just obsesses over you when you're ovulating and can't think about anything else but fucking a baby into your hips.

+ warnings; mdni, breeding kink, some dumbification

+ an; I literally had this idea in my drafts for a year... 😳

Maybe he's got a freaky sixth sense, maybe it's just because he's got heightened senses, or maybe there's some scientific studies to back it up; but Gojo can smell when you're ovulating. And it turns him on — of course it does. He has a bigger breeding kink than you do.

"Oh, you're ovulating." he notes after sniffing your skin... and you do a double take like he's insane. Because he is insane — you married a madman.

He pays closer attention to your cycle than you do, reminding you to mark down when you get your period, and coddling you in the days leading up to ovulation.

"Satoru, it's just an estimation." you tell him, but he's got a glow in his eyes when he sees your period tracker app telling him that today's your most fertile day — if he cums in you today, it's basically guaranteed.

He researches positions that help conception, bends and pushes you into them, and fucks you deep with his thick cock, going harder on your poor hole than he normally does — grunting more than he normally does, throbbing more than he normally does... like it just awakens something primal in him, and now he's obsessively fucking you like he has no other purpose but to breed his sweet little wife.

"Nn! Satoruuu!" you whine and paw at his torso, your walls overwhelmed by the pressure of his cock splitting you open.

"Yes babyyy?" he coos, giving you a crooked, blissed-out smile as he tilts his head.

There's sweat dripping off his abs, his pink nipples are hard, his biceps are twitching, and he's running one hand through his dampened white hair as he stills inside you for a moment.

"'s too deep!" you moan lewdly, a bit of drool escaping the corner of your mouth.

"...aw, I know I'm just too big for ya, huh?" he coos cockily; hearing you tell him that he's 'too big' never gets old.

He's so determined to give you his baby that he tries everything to increase the chances; staying inside you for 5 minutes after shooting his load in, having you rest with a pillow under your back so your hips are raised — "Gotta help my lil' guys swim." he acts like an idiot about it, but sweetly so. Nothing excites him more than the idea of being a dad, except the idea of fathering your children.

After sex, when the two of you are cleaning up, Satoru feels over and massages your tummy with a small smile on his face. He's lost in thought, hair all messy and face tired like he's run a marathon, hopeful that this time he got you pregnant.

He'll pamper you like his queen, humming and going to the ends of the earth to get you anything you ask for. He really fawns over you when you're ovulating, and lays on the compliments thick while snuggling your neck and creeping his fingers up your thighs — pretty soon he'll sink them inside and stretch you out on them, preparing you for what he cutely calls "baby making" but is actually sweaty, nasty, kinky sex — there's a definite difference in the cute, snuggly sex and the literal breeding sessions no matter how much he plays it off.

"Satoru... my legs are still weak after this morning, give me a break, will you?"

"Aw come on, this is an innocent request... and if babymaking happens, it happens..." he mutters the last part under his breath.

"You're crazy."

But you know you're gonna fall for it after you take one look at his rock-hard, juicy pink, dummy big cock and those breeder balls.

He just beams victoriously when you hop over to him like a little bunny.

Satoru's pushes into you as deep as your pussy allows him, and then some more just to pressure your deepest spot, pinning your wrists down and whispering sultrily into your ear about how well you take him, how beautiful you look, how good it feels to fuck your fertile pussy knowing that he'll most definitely get you pregnant because his cum is perfect; thick and sticky and gooey and pungent, perfect just like he is — the cocky bastard.

When his creampies makes you cum, A-spot pressured with his pulsing tip, he grins so wide that you scold him about it.

"Stop grinning like a psychopath." you pant.

He just looks up at you, face hardly an inch away, and asks a dumb, smiley "D'you feel pregnant?" ... as if it happens so fast.

"Gee, I don't know, we should go again just to make sure — that was a joke, that was a joke! Nn! Satoru!" too late, he's flipping you over and slowly filling you up again.

And oh god Satoru loves sliding back in for round twos. The smell of sex and cum wafting up and hitting his nose just makes him plunge back into your cum-filled little hole with only one thing in mind and that is breeding you 'till you're stuffed to the max.

"Come on, y' gonna be a good wifey for me and get knocked up?" he rasps against your ear, thrusting his cock up into your sensitive spots until his creampies turn into whipped cream, frothed up and milky-white and smeared on your pussy lips.

Like the nasty boy he is (and always has been, even before marriage), Satoru forces your head down and makes you watch him fuck his dummy big cock into you.

"Yeah, watch that cock fill you up... look at all my cum leaking out..." he tuts, "... don't be so wasteful, baby... oh well, 'm gonna fuck it back into you anyways. Come on, let me in deeper — aw, what's wrong?" he coos when you claw at his meaty bicep.

"'toruuu, so deep! Y-you're so fucking deep, I can't think..."

His heart pangs when he hears you complain about being too stuffed, "Oh baby you don't need to think, just lay there and let me put a baby in your sweet pussy — gonna fuck you so dumb, the only name you'll remember is mine."

Of course, he has to get a creampie in every day. Sometimes even a few times a day. Sometimes even at 4 AM, and you swat him for being a horny idiot — but it takes five minutes to give in because you can hear the need in his voice when he whines "Please?" and starts humping against you, "I've got so much cum for you." he tells you and though it sounds so sweet in his soft, bedroom voice it's hard to take him as an innocent man, because his thick boner is grinding hard and hot between your plush lips.

You can bet you'll probably only get to sleep when the birds are chirping, 'cause your hubby's balls are too heavy and full of cum and he needs to drain himself inside you — oh, and you can also bet that afterwards he will be sleeping like a princess, clinging to you with his face snuggled into your tummy.

[irithind]

Ok, I don't wanna get into fights, so just gonna answer that and we leave it at that. If you insist on continuing, I'll just block you, no hard feelings.

I am from a country formerly occupied. And communism does make sense. HOWEVER, with the way people are currently, only on a small scale. Like a family, or, as a synonym, a "commune". I don't know any families that don't live in what is essentially communism, sharing stuff. And that works coz of the emotional connection, but also coz in a small group, everybody can check each other. When it expands to a size of a country, there is no way for everybody to make sure everybody else is following the rules, and we need only one bad egg to break the system and lead into a dictatorship. I truly do hope humans are able to achieve a state where we can work together without the need of keeping each other in check, but I am not very optimistic on that. At least not in my lifetime.

So I personally believe small communities should take at least parts of the ideology and incorporate them into a way od living, but we need to be wary of trying to implement it at a national level.

to be fair i dont know much about communism but i dont remember ever heard of something like that being part of their beliefs if im being honest with you

[bontentrio]

ATEEZ GETTING OUT OF THE FRIENDZONE

san x gn reader + mingi x gn reader (separated)

part 2 to ateez stuck in the friendzone! read that part so this makes sense

tw: slow burn + veeery dramatic + angst + fluff

a/n: both have the slowestttt slow burns in history of friends to lovers omg my heart did kinda break a little while writing them lol so keep in mind that both are VERY dramatic. maybe even cliche but honestly i just wrote what i, personally, enjoy reading. i’m just a girl in love with love 🥹

masterlist

SAN

san found himself attempting to hide his smile while you told him about your awful date from a few days ago. you were laying down with your head on his lap as san casually untangled strands of your hair, while you rambled on and on about the misfortunes he secretly thought were fortunes in disguise.

“who talks about their mother on the first date? like the whole time i mean, of course it’s okay to mention one or two things following the context of the conversation” you said, moving your hands dramatically to prove your point “but the whole time? i tried to switch the topic of the conversation towards work and can you believe he told me about what his mother does for a living before telling me what HE does for HIS?”

san couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh. you were so cute and he was so happy and relieved that the date had failed.

“he should go to therapy” he said, in between giggles. “right?! sigmund freud would have been thrilled to have him as a patient” you exclaimed, laughing too.

after a few moments of cracking jokes and laughing about the situation, you turned your head to face san. “so what about you?” you asked. he looked down at you, smile on his face still. “what about me?”

“have you gone on dates lately?” you asked. he threw his head back, shaking it slightly “with what time? i’m too busy with schedules” he answered, half lying. it’s true that he’s very busy with his idol duties, but he always managed to make time for you. he knows he could easily use up that time to go on dates, but for obvious reasons that you still were ignorant to, he didn’t. to you, he was just an introvert.

“but are you not interested in anyone?” you pushed, lifting your head and sitting up to face him properly. san chose to avoid your eyes, not trusting himself to keep his own secret. instead, he looked to the city on his right, suddenly finding the building architectures more interesting. he noticed that the air in the terrace got warmer too, and the concrete platform you were sitting on got harder. or was he the one that got warmer and stiffer? “no, i don’t think so” he lied, but you knew him enough to see through it. “liar, you’re blushing”

“well it is an intimate question” he answered, attempting to smile in order to play it off. you shook your head no “you blushed and your left eye twitched a bit. that was definitely a lie and as your best friend i want to know!” you exclaimed, grabbing his hands. if only you knew the effect you had on him.

when he came back from tour, he was determined to confess. but now that the perfect opportunity arose, he couldn’t open his mouth. questions and different negative scenarios plagued his mind, convincing him that maybe it was a bad idea. he much rather work on moving on than lose you as a friend.

“are they that special to you?” you asked, in a much quieter tone of voice, noticing his silence. he nodded, staring at your eyes, hoping you could notice the love they held whenever he looked at you. but despite his desperation, you didn’t. “they are very lucky then, you genuinely are amazing in every aspect sannie”. you continued, going back to your original place with your head on his lap, but still holding his hands. he kept staring at you, if only you knew.

“thank you” san managed to say.

———

“how fast can you come over to help me with something?” you asked san on the phone, as he exited the practice room. it was like the stars aligned, because he had just finished for the day. “i can come over right now, are you okay?” he asked, worried something may be wrong despite you sounding relatively okay. “i can’t pick an outfit and- shit my aunt his calling me, invite yourself in when you arrive, i’m in my room and you already know the lock number of the door” you said, before hanging up.

outfit for what?

———

so that’s how san found himself sitting on your bed on a friday night, numerous pieces of clothing scattered all over without care. he scrolled through some unread messages while he waited for you to try on a different outfit for your new date. yes, new date. as if his heart haven’t just healed from last time.

“i matched with someone on this app and they immediately invited me on a date so now i’m having a fashion crisis” you had explained to him as soon as he entered your room. why was it so hard for you to realize that your dates have been failing for a reason?

you appeared once again, now wearing an outfit that honestly took san’s breath away as soon as his eyes landed on your figure. it was nothing too extravagant, actually, it was rather simple, but it was enough to make san’s head spiral. specially when you twirled around to show the outfit from the back, since your shirt had an open back.

“so? what do we think?” you asked, eyes filled with hope.

san was conflicted: he was 100% sure he has never seen anyone look more beautiful, more dashing, more perfect. but, it wasn’t for him. he didn’t want anyone else to look at you like that, they would never come remotely close to the way he feels about you.

“san-?” you started to ask after a few seconds of silence, but got interrupted by him: “don’t go on that date”

you looked at him confused, as he stared back with the same surprised face. that really had slipped from his lips before he realized what he was saying. you fucked up big time san, he thought to himself.

“why? do i really look that bad?” you asked, turning around to face the mirror in order to examine your body and face. he noticed the way your eyes dimmed, as you carefully traced your eyes over your figure, finding little imperfections that made your face turn into a sad frown. san felt his own heart shatter at the sight, and before he knew, he stood up and quickly hugged you from behind, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

“sannie?” you asked, startled by his sudden action and making you momentarily forget about the insecurities that started flooding your mind. you looked at him through the mirror: even if he was leaning down on you, he was still much wider, making you feel very small in his arms. unconsciously, you lifted your hand and patted his hair. san lifted his head, looking at you through the mirror as well, and your eyes interlocked.

“you’re perfect y/n” he whispered. “i’m sorry if i gave you the wrong idea, you look beautiful and your date is very lucky”. he was trying to be supportive, but traces of sadness and desperation were evident in his face. enough for you to notice. you turned around, and the same hand that was patting his head went down to his cheek, holding him in place to look at you.

“what’s wrong san?” you asked, softly. your thumb traced comforting circles on his cheek, and you could feel his arms tighten around you as he closed his eyes.

“go on that date” he whispered in a shaky voice, before adding “you look beautiful”.

you stared at him confused for a few moments, not really knowing what to say. then, he kissed your forehead and, with the little bit of strenght he had left in him, unwrapped his arms, stepping back. he grabbed his jacket and went to the door, but not before shooting you another sad look and saying “like i said, your date is very lucky”.

he left, heart in his hands, slowly breaking with each step.

you cancelled the date.

———

san couldn’t sleep that night, he kept tossing and turning as his mind wandered about what you were doing with your date. were you still having dinner? no, probably not since it’s like 2 am. maybe it went so well that you invited them over for coffee at your place, something that will probably lead to something else. something he didn’t even want to imagine, since it wasn’t him committing those sins.

maybe it was time to move on, after all. he wants you to be happy, truly, so if your happiness doesn’t include him, then he should at least be supportive. and in order to do that from the bottom of his heart, he should move-

*knock knock knock* he heard, coming from the door. he decided to ignore it, thinking that it was probably mingi, so he turned around and closed his eyes, pretending he was asleep.

“maybe he’s asleep, i should come back tomorrow but thank you soenghwa” he heard you say from behind the door. he never got out of bed faster, as he sprinted to the door and opened it widely.

there you stood, now dressed in a familiar oversized shirt and baggy pants. completely different from the outfit he last saw you on, but to him you still looked beautiful. you looked at him with wide eyes, as seonghwa smirked next to you.

“i’ll leave you alone” he said, before he made his way to his room and shut the door behind him.

you stood there awkwardly, avoiding his eyes. you came here with a question, but now that you had san right in front of you, thoughts were scattered all over your mind and you couldn’t say a word.

“come in” he said, sensing your internal dilemma. you nodded in response, as you entered and made your way to his unmade bed.

“did i wake you up?” you asked. san shut the door and shook his head “actually i couldn’t sleep”

“me neither” you said in a low voice.

“how was your date?” he asked, unsure of what to say. he sat next to you on the bed, looking at you while trying to decipher your expression. you turned your head to san’s bedside table, finding the small plushie you once gifted him randomly. you smiled. “i cancelled it”

“what? why?!” he asked, with surprised wide eyes. you turned back to him. “i suddenly didn’t want to go, that’s it really. so while i was tidying up my room i found this shirt” you said, fiddling with the ends of the shirt that looked a little too big on you “the one you once lent me after we got stuck in the rain that one time. i told you i would wash it and give it back, but i didn’t. why didn’t i give it back to you?”

san stared at you in silence.

“so i realized it still had your perfume, and before i knew it, i had put it on. then i started thinking about you, about us. you’re my best friend, you know? but as i was laying down on my bed, i was thinking: what if you were not? what if my dates always failed for a reason?” you continued, as your fingers reached for his. “what if the reason they always failed was because i always searched you in them? so again, before i realized i was standing in front of your apartment, but with one question in my mind”

san could feel his heart beat increase and his breath shorten.

“what will happen to us and our friendship if i told you how i feel? how i think i always felt even if i didn’t know it?” you asked, looking at him scared.

“you’re dumb” he said, loud enough for only you to hear. that didn’t surprise you, what did was the way he immediately let go of your hand in order to hug you close, bringing you closer to his body. “what will happen? how would i feel? y/n you’re dumb because that’s how i’ve been feeling for a long time now” he said, hands leaving your waist and craddling your face. san stared at you, and now you realized that his eyes looked different: they held love in them. something you always searched on random people in dating apps, yet were never able to find. instead, it has been right in front of you this whole time.

“i love you” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. finally, he thought. he finally said the words he has been keeping locked deeply inside him for years. you smiled, as your nose touched his. “i love you too, i’m sorry i just realized”

maybe it was time to give you the silver necklace he bought you on tour, since now the timing was right.

MINGI

mingi missed you, a lot. he hadn’t heard from you since you stormed out of his house a week and a half ago. he had left you a couple of texts apologizing, and even attempted calling you, but to no avail. you had disappeared, and he didn’t blame you, he was stupid enough to let you go. in fact, that’s the thing he regretted the most about the fight: not chasing after you.

so he did what he knew best: he took his misery and transformed it into work, to be precise, he wrote three songs, all about his feelings, the situation in itself and you.

three different scenarios that made him hear yunho’s voice calling him dramatic in his mind. to be honest, he knew he was being a little dramatic about the situation. he knew that you probably just needed time to cool down, and that if his apology was good enough you would forgive him in a heart beat, because, in the end, he knew you loved him. maybe not in the way he wished for, but you loved him nonetheless.

mingi stared at the ceiling in silence, wondering what were you doing while he layed on his bed feeling miserable. did you miss him too? were you also thinking about him? he was certain of one thing only: he wanted to see you. it didn’t matter to him if you opened the door or not, he needed to at least hear your voice through the door.

he checked the time: 11:47 pm, almost midnight. fuck it, he thought. he stood up and quickly got dressed in a speed record time, tied up his shoes and grabbed his keys and song notebook in the process. by 11:55 pm he was already closing the door of his car.

as mingi started driving, questions also started flooding his mind: will you hate him if he suddenly showed up? what if you had invited someone over? shouldn’t he have discussed this with one of his friends first just in case?

questions, questions, questions.

no answers.

soon enough, he found himself standing in front of your apartment door. he could easily ring the door bell, knock on the door or simply use the spare key you gave him once for emergencies. yet, he was unable to do any, frozen in place as he mentally debated on what to do.

mingi decided to do something odd, something he would have probably laughed at if he saw it in one of the movies you usually forced him to watch with you: he took out his pen and notebook, ripped off one of the pages and wrote on it. then, he slid it under the door and left.

“i’ll tell you everything -m”

———

you have always been a hopeless romantic, mingi knew that perfectly well. you believed in happy endings, and that love and friendship can win over everything. so why hasn’t he heard from you still? did you not get the note? should he leave another one? no, that would be too pushy, it was only two days ago.

questions, questions, questions.

still no answers.

mingi was sulking again, and honestly it started to worry seonghwa and san, who watched as he walked back to his room right after dinner, without saying a word during the whole night. honestly, he was just too lost in his thoughts. their pair exchanged a look, before following him.

“mingi, hold up, everything okay? you’re more… distracted than usual” seonghwa said, carefully choosing his words. mingi hummed in response, nodding as he stopped in his tracks. “yeah, there’s just a lot in my head” he answered, not looking at his friends. “let us hear it then” san said, patting his back and leading them towards the living room.

the trio sat down on the sofa they had bought a few months ago, the one you had scolded them about because it seemed very expensive and too hard to clean. they had all laughed, but soon enough realized you were right when mingi spilled a bit of sauce on it. the stain was still there.

“so? what’s wrong?” seonghwa asked once they all got comfortable. mingi sighed, looking down before he started spilling everything that had happened, from two weeks ago until now. he noticed the eldest nodding along the story, but neither of them said anything until he finished.

“when exactly did you leave this note?” san asked, fidgeting with his bracelet. “two days ago” mingi answered. san’s eyes went wide, as he muttered a small fuck before he sprinted towards the kitchen. seonghwa and mingi exchanged a look, both equally confused at their friend’s actions. after a few moments and very weird sounds that came from the kitchen, san appeared again, with a crumbled up yellow post it in his hand. he handed it to mingi.

“the hell is this? it has food stains san, gross” mingi said with a disgusted face as he barely touched the paper. “open it, i found it this morning” san said, sitting down next to him again. mingi gave his friends a strange look, before carefully opening the crumbled up piece of paper. as he read, his eyes widened in surprise.

“what time is it?!” he exclaimed. “9 pm” seonghwa answered, checking the time in his phone. mingi muttered a small fuck, before putting his shoes on, and grabbing his bag.

“i’ll be back in a while” he said, before shutting the door behind him.

seonghwa looked at san, confused. “what the hell did the paper say?” he asked. san picked it up from the floor and showed it to him:

“8 pm, our special place”.

the hand writing was yours.

———

mingi was almost sure he broke one or two speeding laws on his way to the park where he hoped you were still waiting at. he cursed san for not telling him sooner, even if he knew it wasn’t really his fault to begin with. the park wasn’t far from his apartment though, just a short 10 minute drive. as cliche as it sounds, it was the park were you both met.

at that time, around 6 years ago or so, his mind revolved around perfection, hard work, pressure, debut. so he would succumb to overwhelming feelings pretty often, that forced him to need some time alone. that’s how he found a park nearby, and specifically, one peculiar tree that caught his attention for some reason. he used to sit down under it, notebook on his lap and pen between his fingers, as he scribbled down some random thoughts that plagued his mind during hard moments. he didn’t really plan to turn his words into songs yet, it was just his way to deal with stress. he used to find these little moments very special: it was like he was reconnecting with his inner, truer self, and not the mean facade he wore in front of his soon to be members. yeah, some of them irked him, like that wooyoung guy, but he didn’t mean to be that rude all the time. so, to escape the constant pressure kq fellaz was facing in between the company walls, he found solace in a park, but specifically, he found solace under that tree.

he could remember the day he met you like it was yesterday. he remembers all the stress he was feeling, debut date coming closer and closer. everyone was on edge, from the members to the staff. he had also recently come back from morocco after successfully shooting his first music video! but he couldn’t deny it: as much as he was excited, he was already feeling a little tired. he needed some alone time, just himself with his thoughts. so he found himself walking towards his favorite spot in the park.

only to find you there, sitting down under the tree. his tree to be precise. and you were writing on a pink notebook with a fluffy pen. mingi felt like he was looking at a reflection of himself, but instead of being comforted by it, he felt annoyed. it was HIS tree after all!

“excuse me, this is my spot” he said, coming into your field of vision. you looked up to him, pausing your hand and taking an earphone off. “excuse me?”

“this is my spot” he reiterated, making you chuckle slightly. “the tree you mean? does it have your name or something?” you asked, finding the situation hilarious. he rolled his eyes in annoyance, why did nothing go his way?! “listen, i had a shitty day and i need to sit there for a while, so can you leave?”

“no, i got here first. plus there are tons of other trees here, it’s a park after all” you said, putting your earphone back on and turning your gaze to your notebook. he stayed still in his place in front of you, making you huff in annoyance at his persistence. “look dude, i am not going to move. you can either sit on the opposite side or leave, i don’t care but stop bothering me” you continued.

mingi really really reaaaally needed to be at his safe place, too overwhelmed to funcion rationally, so he rolled his eyes and sat on the opposite side of the tree.

that’s how the story started: at opposite sides of the tree. soon enough it got replaced by sitting nearby, and eventually next to each other. some times you would even bring snacks to share in silence, as you both wrote down your thoughts on your respective notebooks. once he debuted, he broke the silence for the first time, urging you to listen to his song. after that, you started talking more, about music, shows, your respective jobs and life in itself. the safe place you both found under the tree, was also found in each other, quickly realizing you often shared the same thoughts and views about the world.

the story started under a tree, and he hoped it wouldn’t end there too. he needed you to be there, because he wasn’t ready to lose not only his best friend, but also his safe place. even the tree would become stained from the pain. and he would have nothing left, just questions, questions, and more questions about different what ifs.

you weren’t there.

but mingi wasn’t about to give up anytime soon. he started running towards the direction of your apartment, forgetting that he had parked the car on the opposite direction. his legs were aching, and he felt like he was a bit out of breath, despite all the idol training he has been enduring for six years. but he kept running.

until he spot you in the distance.

“y/n!” he yelled. he saw you stop in your tracks and turn around to his direction, confused at the sudden call of your name. once you spotted him running towards you, you sprinted to him.

his body collapsed against yours, as he hugged you tightly, like you would disappear if he let you go. mingi hid his face in the crook of your neck as you wrapped your arms around his back. you could hear his quick heart beat from how close he held you, and you were sure he could hear yours too.

after a while, mingi lifted his head from your neck, and looked at you. “why are you crying?” he asked, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. “i thought you wouldn’t come, why are you crying mingi?” you asked, repeating his own actions, but on his cheeks. he giggled, he didn’t even realize he was crying. “i thought i lost you” he said, truthfully.

the park was dark, the only lights came from street lights. so, for outsiders, you probably looked like a random couple having a dramatic moment. definitely not mingi from idol group ateez and his best friend y/n reconciliating.

“i’m sorry” he whispered, locking his eyes with yours. they still held tears, that threatened to spill depending on your answer. you shook your head “no, i’m sorry mings, i shouldn’t have walked away like that. plus i didn't even give you a chance to explain”.

“i’m sorry for not showing you the songs, for not chasing you, and for being too much of a coward to not face you directly” he apologized. you hugged him again, shushing him. “i shouldn’t have pressured you to show me, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do”

mingi looked at you again, and bit his lip. “can i still show you though?”

“it’s not necessary, mingi, it’s fine real-“ you started saying before he interrupted you, taking your hand and leading you towards the same old place from before. “i want to” he said, determined.

you let him whisk you away.

———

back at the peculiar tree that was iluminated enough by a street lamp a few meters away, he sat you down at your usual spot. he sat down beside you, as he pulled out his notebook from his bag. mingi gave it to you.

“mingi, this really isn’t necessary-“ you started saying once again. “please” he interrupted, with pleading eyes. so you took his notebook and opened it on the first page. you already read that song, it was the first one he ever wrote a long while back. “read the last ones”

you turned the pages, until you found them. mingi looked at you nervously, starting to feel fidgety at the thought of you realizing his deepest secret, the only one he hid from you. he just hoped you wouldn’t hate him. he scanned your face, puffy eyes filling with tears once again as realization hit you. you turned your gaze back to him with wide, surprised eyes.

“mingi- what? wait, hold on” you stammered, as tears fell from your eyes. you quickly set his notebook aside to grab your own bag, taking out your new pink notebook, your diary. you handed it to him, saying: “open it on august 5th”

he stared at you confused, and slightly unsure too, since you’ve always been pretty secretive about what you wrote there. he found the page and read:

“august 5th.

so i realized something, that i’m almost too afraid to write even here. i’m scared that if i admit it, i’ll have to face a sad reality. i think i’m in love with my best friend, isn’t that stupid? that’s how i feel, at least. i haven’t seen him in a while because of his work, and i feel like i’m slowly losing my mind. why do i only feel complete when he’s with me? scratch that, why am i even writing this?

anyways, i’ll probably die with the secret”

“now turn to september 16th” you said, avoiding his eyes.

“september 16th.

i’m in love with my best friend. i love mingi. how insane is that? and how stupid? he is my best friend, for god’s sake. but i can’t help the way i feel, specially when he’s so annoyingly observant. like for example, the other day he noticed my pen was dying, so today he surprised me with a new fluffy pink pen. i hate him for making my heart swell at such gestures. specially because i know I KNOW that’s what best friends do.

anyways i’m not gonna use his pen because i decided i’m going to preserve it forever”

“and now, tun to november 10th” you muttered. mingi realized it was yesterday’s date.

“november 10th.

i still love him. and i fucked up. but i’m still in love with him”

he closed your notebook, turning towards you. he found you with your face on your knees, as you hugged your legs, too embarrassed to face him, despite now knowing his feelings. he loves you too, with the same devotion, with the same desperation and intensity. mingi loves you, his best friend.

“look at me, y/n” he whispered. you slowly lifted your head, hesitantly looking at him. the way you both looked at each other held more intimacy than ever. mingi slowly reached for you, bringing your face closer to his. his hold was shaky, almost unsure, this was a whole new territory. he took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

“i love you” he admitted.

too many questions, that finally got an answer.

“i love you too” you whispered.

taglist: @yoongles2025 @reallychaoticwoo

(to be added please let me know)

[piastrisun]

unexpected confession.

pairings: lando norris + fem reader.

summary: as the elevator stalls, so does your composure. lando’s sudden, earnest words turn the trapped moment into a delicate dance between panic and possibility.

genre: fluff.⠀word count: 1k.⠀ warning: none.

notes: lando’s birthday!!! a bit short but i hope y’all like it. <3 no use of y/n or any names at all.

you and lando are standing in the elevator, the air uncomfortably still, and the space around you both feels too small. the elevator’s hum seems louder now, echoing in the confined space. the flickering light above does little to calm the rising tension between you two, as your body instinctively shifts to press against the corner.

you’ve never thought much about how close you are to each other—how every small movement feels amplified in this moment. it's as if your very proximity makes the silence heavier. your mind races, trying to distract itself from the fact that you're alone in an elevator, stuck for what feels like forever. it should be mundane, but with lando here, everything suddenly feels too intense.

and then, he breaks the stillness, his voice barely above a whisper but loud enough to shake you out of your thoughts. "i don’t want to die without telling you this."

your heart skips a beat, and a chill runs down your spine. the sudden panic floods you, and you whip your head to face him, your eyes wide, your breath catching in your throat. “what?! what are you talking about? are we—are we dying?”

his face goes pale as he stammers, looking more flustered than you've ever seen him. his hands hover over the elevator buttons as though he can fix the situation with the press of a few keys. “no! no, of course not… well, i mean, i don’t think so. but listen, it’s important.” he avoids your gaze, the nervous energy practically crackling between you.

you let out a shaky, almost panicked laugh, trying to control the rapid beat of your heart. “lando, this is not the time for dramatic confessions! you’re freaking me out!”

he shifts awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as his eyes dart around the elevator. you can tell he’s struggling to keep it together, his body stiff with the weight of whatever he's about to say. “i love you. i always have. and i’m sorry for not saying it sooner.”

you freeze, your body going rigid. the words land with such weight that you can’t process them fast enough. your jaw falls open, and your mouth feels dry as you blink a few times, as if trying to clear the fog in your brain. "wait, what? you love me? you’ve… always loved me?" you can’t quite wrap your mind around it, your voice coming out in a whisper, disbelief taking over. your hands tremble, and your heart is pounding so hard you swear he can hear it. "are you—are you serious right now? do you think we’re going to die in this elevator?"

“no! no, i don’t think we’re dying! i mean, not right now.” lando sighs dramatically, dropping his shoulders in exasperation as he leans back against the elevator wall, seemingly giving up on fixing anything. “but… look, i just needed to say it, okay? i didn’t want to leave with it unsaid. so, if we do die, well… at least you know.”

his words hang in the air like a strange confession, one that doesn't quite make sense given the circumstances. but even then, a knot of warmth stirs in your chest, a strange mix of emotions you’re not ready to confront.

you step back, crossing your arms tightly over your chest as if trying to shield yourself from what’s happening. you narrow your eyes at him, your lips curling into a teasing frown. “so, this is your plan? we get stuck in an elevator for five minutes and suddenly you’ve decided to unload your feelings?”

he groans, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. he slumps against the wall, letting out a breath like he's trying to deflate from the awkwardness. “this wasn’t exactly the moment i planned, okay? but i’ve been holding it in for years, and if you do kill me with that glare, at least i’ll go knowing i said it.”

you bite back a smile, your eyes narrowing in mock judgment. you raise an eyebrow as you lean toward him. “glare? i’m just trying to process this. you’ve have fancied me all this time, and you never said anything?”

his shoulders tense, and he rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze as if searching for some way to escape. “i wasn’t sure if you felt the same. i thought maybe you’d think i was, i don’t know, creepy or something.” his voice cracks slightly, a nervous chuckle escaping him. he looks down at his shoes, his embarrassment clear. “but now here we are. stuck in this tiny box together, one awkward cough away from the end of our lives…”

you can’t help but laugh, the sound light and a little shaky as you step forward, your lips curling into a playful smirk. “well, lucky for you, i don’t think you’re creepy. and maybe… just maybe… i’ve had a few feelings too.”

his eyes widen, his mouth slightly agape, disbelief written all over his face. his voice falters for a moment, but it’s full of hope. “wait, what?!”

you laugh softly, the playful edge to your voice not masking the sudden warmth in your chest. "you think i’m just going to throw myself at you after you drop that bomb? i’m not that easy, lando."

his eyes light up, his expression shifting from surprise to sheer delight. he takes a step closer, his grin impossibly wide as he leans in, his voice filled with teasing excitement. “oh, really? because if we do get stuck here a little longer, i can think of a few ways to pass the time…” his gaze flickers down to your lips before meeting your eyes again, mischievous and full of playful challenge.

you roll your eyes dramatically, trying to maintain some semblance of control over your emotions, but the smile you can’t hide betrays you. "you’re unbelievable."

lando shrugs, his grin growing even wider as he leans back, arms crossing in mock defense. his eyes dance with a mix of humor and genuine affection. "i do try."

©⠀piastrisun original work. please don’t translate, claim or repost any of my writing, 24’.

[louisferrignojr]

i have all sorts of criticisms for 911 as a show overall, for the 8x06 bucktommy storyline specifically, and for tim minear as a writer and showrunner. all valid criticisms and things I'm allowed to do as a queer viewer, because it relates to the writing choices, regardless whether they are influenced by external factors such as actor availability, budgets, or network demands and restrictions.

but you won't see me turning on oliver stark like a fucking rabid delusional buddie shipper.

using my logic and basic knowledge about the world of television, i can't put any blame on him for this shitfest. you won't see me coming up with ridiculous theories that he hates lou (#1 buddie talking point since the beginning) or that he got tim to write the episode this way (he's just a bloody actor ffs), that he hasn't done enough to champion the ship (you want him to be a bucktommy warrior?), because guess what?

say he promoted the relationship on his personal instagram, say he hyped it up more in interviews, say he interacted with shippers online or showcased more bucktommy fanworks... and the pair broke up in 8x06? because he doesn't write the show? you could then argue oliver engaged in queerbaiting, because the show did not deliver the queer content he promoted.

and isn't that what he was accused of anyway, before he deleted his twitter? doesn't it make sense that he might want to be careful about this?

and given the harassment he's had to endure from buddie shippers, i find it perfectly acceptable to answer buddie questions diplomatically because we know what those people are fucking capable of. it makes sense to me that he doesn't want to anger them.

at the end of the day, i'm not defending him. i've said before i'm deeply disappointed with his comments in the TVline interview and the way he doubled down in that instagram post. he has lost my respect and i no longer think he's a good ally to bisexual people specifically, because when you are playing a bisexual character, you have the bare minimum obligation to listen when real bisexual people are telling you that you fucked up. yes, i would like to see him acknowledge his wrongdoing and show that he understands the issue and why the things he said were biphobic. no matter how badly he fucked up, he should be allowed to reflect and make amends... because he's a human being and that's what the weewoo show is about. redemption arcs and second chances all around, folks.

but - he's literally just an actor and a celebrity. i expect nothing. i'm not holding out hope. i spare him no mind. i don't hate him and i'm not angry with him because i never idolised him. because i don't know him beyond the persona he shows the world. no one does. we can infer things based on what we see and hear, but there's really no way to know how much of that is his authentic self.

anyway. just my two cents 🫶

[eightbitpale]

Op your tags are so interesting. Because i think that they lend themselves well to a conversation about a tension that i see demonstrated over and over in conversations about Padme - is she written like a character, or is she written like a symbol? And it’s so hard to divorce the two, because both in universe and within the narrative itself she’s positioned as this paragon of idealism, in a way that almost makes her more of a structural feature of the story more than an actual character. Its like, of course she loses the will to live and dies in the end! if she survived then the tragedy wouldn’t be complete. She IS idealism and hope, so of course she dies when hope does.

But from a watsonian perspective, I think people often find her death is unsatisfying within the specific context of the movie because it’s just not foreshadowed properly. She’s propped up as a paragon of truth and justice in order to make her eventual death symbolically significant, but the exact mechanism of her death - profound, personal psychological pain, which is indicative of a nuanced internal struggle - is actually undermined by a characterisation that intentionally flattens her into a moral paragon. When she dies, we understand academically that it makes sense, but despite that it still sort of feels… left of field for her character, who until mustafar has given no real indication of suicidal, nihilistic tendencies.

it is interesting that for all the talk of “fixing” padme and making her “more than a weeping wife”, the idea of padme choosing to die while pregnant remains this huge taboo. post after post about freeing her from sexist writing, and ppl still can’t imagine a padme separate from her children. her ultimate purpose remains motherhood. padme refusing motherhood/being unhappy in motherhood is taken as a total impossibility. it has to be sith life force draining, it has to be the force choke, it has to be bad space gynecologists (??). it can’t be that a mom lost the will to live despite her babies. that doesn’t happen!!

[bi-bi-buckleys]

Also, sorry, I’m hung up on this: didn’t Maddie and Chimney break up twice??? Once after the whole Doug thing because they didn’t think they were ready and then late decided they were (who does that sound like??) and then once after Jee was born where Maddie walked away and then Chimney went after her and they decided to break up and then got back together??

It’s just like, imagine if they hadn’t decided to fix things, even the first time? What if people told them to move on and not live in the past? And what if they had listened.

Also, Chimney called Karen and told her that Hen was dead because he knew they were both sad over their breakup! He didn’t tell them to jump back into the pond! He was friends with both Hen and Karen, and he’s friends with both Tommy and Buck! It would make sense for him to want them to work out!

This rant is all to say it feels very out of character for Madney, and I really just hope there’s a reason for it. That it’s being done to push Buck into deciding to make his own decisions.

[blackknight-kai]

Hello! I've been reading your works and I absolutely love it 💖💖 you're actually the first few people who got me into this fandom, and for that I'm eternally grateful ☺

As for the ask, is it ok if I ask general yan HCS of both monkeys? Maybe with fem reader? NSFW is fine. Thanks so much and have a good day! ❤

OOoOOooOOkay! So Ima give this my best shot! Keep in mind I do more ‘soft’ yandere mainly because I do like me a bit of romance with my darker stuff. I WILL add some darker things at the end though!! (I don’t delve into yan often so bare with me 🫶🫂 I’m learning)

Keep in mind before proceeding this isnt your typical HC everyone :)! It’s going to have some Non Con/stalking/whatever comes to my mind. I went with whatever direction my brain was going so I hope this came out okay!

Warning: Yandere ideas

Destined One

At first you didnt notice anything different about him compared to anyone else outside of the obvious physical traits and some personality traits. He’s reserved, quiet, and focused entirely on his goals. His determination and strength is something that awes you to this day. Something you do notice about him though is that hes observant. Always taking note of his surroundings and using his senses to keep himself aware of what going on. When you first started traveling with him he seemed to almost…ignore you a bit. As though you weren’t really a scratch on his so called journey and mission. But over time you start to notice him staring at you and watching you. It’s a little intense but you just chalk it up to him being him, maybe he’s curious about his companion finally?

- [ ] He hadnt really thought much of you when you first joined him. It honestly took him a bit of time to realize he’d grown a bit….attached to you. His eyes always following your every move and his ears always listening for you. Your scent? He has that memorized.

- [ ] DO is going to start off subtle about his attentions towards you. He’s not going to be rash, unless something pushes him to it.

- [ ] He’s ALWAYS watching you. Always knows where you are and what youre doing.

- [ ] His feelings for you go from zero to almost 100 - although he’s silent about it at first. You’re going to notice him staring or even sometimes getting things you needed for you before you even knew you needed it.

- [ ] DO doesnt do things in half measures. He’s focused. Which means once he’s turned his attentions on you, ALL of him is focused on you.

- [ ] DO knows it’s wrong, but cant stop himself from doing some of the more…inappropriate things with you. Such as watching you while you bathe or change.

- [ ] *Non Con - He’s going to end up touching you while you sleep. Be it an accident at first (yeah right) or he just doesn’t stop his urge to do so. But he’s going touch you because you’re too inviting to him. He won’t go so far as full on sex, but you will be caressed and eventually as he gains confidence you’ll find marks you’re not sure where they came from. He’s going to decide the very first night his hands slip under your clothes that you are his.

- [ ] No one else will EVER see you or touch you like he had. Ever.

- [ ] He’s going to be hyper attentive to you, lulling you into this sense of “Aw he cares for me and takes care of me”. While YES he does, it’s also to further his own goal in regards to you. The foods he brings? Not every time, but sometimes might have a little something in them that makes you a little…sleepy. Pliant. So he can run his hands under your clothes or leave little marks on you without you making a fuss. Your body will NOT be afraid of his touch, he’s going to make sure of it. Sex is still something he’s reserving for…claiming you fully. For now, he’s going to take his time getting your body just used to his hands and the way he makes you feel with them or his tail.

- [ ] He’s going to manhandle you, sit you where he wants you and if you fuss he’s stubborn and won’t budge about it, using his strength to hold you where he put you, to the point you let him have his way because it’s not worth arguing over.

- [ ] You dont realize it but he’s also been scenting the hell out of you, your clothes, and even your bed furs. To you, it just smells like a combination of you, the forest, and of him - which you dont think anything of because he carries stuff for you a lot.

- [ ] But him scenting that stuff? It’s a very loud claim especially since it’s not just him rubbing his face or neck on the items….no he’s rubbing those materials around his cock and balls. Getting his musk all over it.

- [ ] On you, he will be a bit more subtle with his scenting. Wrapping a tail around you or brushing his hand through your hair or against you as he walks by. But sometimes DO shoves his hand down his pants, coating his hand or even tail in his musk and then rubs it on you. You are HIS.

- [ ] He’s jealous as all hell too and will make it known by how he behaves towards others in regards to you. Does NOT like anyone even looking at you, it makes him want to carry you off to some makeshift nest and KEEP you there, to prevent wandering eyes.

- [ ] Speaking of, as soon as his journey ends thats exactly what he wants to do. If he doesnt have a place in mind he’s definitely going to make sure he finds one. It will be the nest for the two of you. He will make sure he gets you everything you need so you wont need to go out.

- [ ] Before that though, he’s going to do everything in his power to make sure you know that you’re his and he’s going to make sure you dont want anyone else.

- [ ] When his journey is over, immediately youre thrown over his shoulder. He’s carting you off to your permanent home, away from any dangers or the possibility of someone stealing you away from him.

- [ ] Here is where he’s a bit more…demanding and forceful. See, by this point he knows your body wants him, he’s smelled and felt how wet you get for his touch and he’s seen your eyes on him. You’ve been slowly pulled into his orbit once he has you in his chosen space he’s going to have all of you.

- [ ] He’s not going to just strip you and shove himself in, no. He still wants to make sure your body is willing. So he’s going to be more bold and more obvious about his touches.

- [ ] Bathing alone? Not anymore. Changing alone? Nope. Unless he’s gone doing something like gathering food or a quick patrol, your body is for his eyes. He will let you have some modesty but he’s going to slip his hands under your clothes when he pleases and feel your soft warm skin.

- [ ] You’re going to be awake when his tail or fingers forcefully slip between your legs, he’s going to pull orgasms out of you until your awake conscious learns to relax for his touch like your sleeping body and conscious do.

- [ ] You wont be allowed to leave, he will make sure a clone is around you at all times if he cant be and when youre sleeping he’s wrapped around you, his limbs like vices.

- [ ] Your skin will be marked with his bites and some claw marks, not deep enough to truly harm but enough to remind you of him when he’s out of sight.

- [ ] He will slowly get you addicted to his taste as well, slipping a pre or cum coated finger into your mouth as you orgasm so your brain learns that his taste means pleasure.

- [ ] When he takes you he’s going to be gentle but firm, he wants you to feel good but also wont let you resist him. He’s CLAIMING you now. His fangs will bite into you, this time with the purpose to scar his claim on you.

- [ ] After this, he’s going to make sure youre always ready for him, is not above using a clone to keep you spread open and wet for him via cock warming or a prefucking. You will be molded to the shape of his cock.

- [ ] He’s also going to slip inside you when you sleep, waking you as he ruts into you or touches your body.

- [ ] Your body WILL know that his touch means pleasure, but if you resist he’s going to make sure you remember your place. He will be rougher with you. Wanting you to submit.

- [ ] He will always pamper you after, cuddling you and cleaning you. But his cum will remain inside you until he’s ready to help you wash it out.

- [ ] He’s going to make sure you are so reliant on him, his touch, his presence, and all he does for you that you wont remember that his possessiveness isnt normal, that he’d stolen you away without asking and that he continues to lay his claim on you.

- [ ] No, youre lulled into a sense of belonging with him….youre his to care for, protect, and take.

- [ ] All in all and in general, Destined One is a quiet but firm yandere lover. Only when you really push back/push his dominance does he get too harsh with you. Depending on WHEN he finds you will depend on how quickly he steals you away. But he’s going to take care of you, you are HIS mate and mates are to be cared for, protected. He knows it’s not exactly normal to keep you the way he does, but something in him wont allow for you to even have the possibility to consider someone else. He’s going to show you that HE is the best for you. That HE knows the best for you. He may be jealous and possessive but he wont harm you so much so that you would be repulsed by his touch. No, he wants you pliant and giving in when he reaches for you, relaxing in his embrace or even seeking his touch out. If you take your pleasure with out him, he’s not going to let you sleep, it will get to the point you will end up passing out and he will keep going. He’s going to take you again when you wake. Your pleasure is for him to take and give.

Wukong:

Wukong is…very friendly to you. He also is a very good, if sometimes annoying, traveling companion or protector. So you really don’t notice anything out of the ordinary with him in the beginning. By the time you do it’s honestly too late for you. He’s lulled you into his intricate web and there’s no escape from him. Because he’s had his eyes on you and what Wukong wants, Wukong gets. He also knows there is no one else better than him for you.

- [ ] He knows almost immediately after meeting you that he wants you. It’s not a normal ‘want’ either. It’s the kind of greed he that claws at him from the inside desperate to get out and get a hold of you.

- [ ] Wukong will temper SOME of his more…greedy tendencies down. At first. But he has a way about him that is very demanding and commanding. Being the King and powerful being he is.

- [ ] He has a way of making you feel comfortable around him, as though you belong by his side. He’s going to make sure you see HIM as your protector and someone to go to for help or anything you need.

- [ ] Wukong will be outright flirtatious with you, but he wont be overtly forceful with his touches right away. He wants to get you warmed up to him and used to his ‘casual’ touches. Something he does NOT do for others but you dont need to know that.

- [ ] He definitely disguises himself when you go bathing, be it a fish in the water or a bug flying about. He wants his eyes on you at all times. Yes, this means he may brush against you often while in his forms of trickery.

- [ ] Would absolutely disguise himself as a woman in a bathhouse if you went to one and offer to help you bathe. (He will fish for compliments about himself if you mention him traveling with you)

- [ ] Wukong is going to be manipulative in a way you dont even realize. He’s mouthy and cunning so he’s going to use his words to steer you in whatever direction he wants things to go in.

- [ ] He’s also very opinionated and stubborn, sometimes using that to his advantage to get you to submit to him with some kind of benefit after, be it something he gets for you or he’s just all around more pleasant. He’s subtle about it all at first.

- [ ] Everything will be orchestrated to his needs/wants even if it LOOKS like it’s yours, because in his mind he knows what’s best FOR you.

- [ ] You’re going to wear clothes he finds for you (will probably take your preferences into consideration because he wants you happy but will definitely get things that suit his taste too), you will periodically have to share his clothes (because he dirty’s yours on purpose or ruins them).

- [ ] He wants you to rely on him for most things, getting you food to cook, personal effects/items, etc. Essentially hes going to be a sugar daddy LMFAO but in a way that he’s not necessarily giving you money, he just gets the thing for you while you wait for him because he wants you getting used to HIM taking care of you.

- [ ] *Non Con - Wukong will definitely slip things at times into your food or drink, wanting to make you think your having lovely dreams about him but in reality he has you in his lap, your legs spread wide open, one over each of his knees as he’s caressing your body or filling your hole with his tail or fingers. The wet sounds filling the air while youre out of it. Come morning there wont be a trace on you - besides the ever present lingering scent of his on your skin thanks to how touchy he is in general. Through this he explores your body, getting it needy for his touch.

- [ ] He’s also going to cum on you while you sleep or will rub his precum on the inside of your panties so when you wear them you dont even realize what he’s done as its mixed with your natural discharge of fluids that end up on your underwear throughout the day. But HIS precum and scent is pressed directly against your pussy all day.

- [ ] Depending on the situation - he may steal you away right away or he might wait and bide his time, getting you to be relaxed with him before he takes you away for himself.

- [ ] Either way, once he has you to himself he’s going to get more intense. He may not penetrate you right away but he’s going to make you crave him, until you finally beg him to bully his cock into your hole.

- [ ] He’s going to press against you all the time, rubbing his body on yours, striping you and bringing you to the edge of pleasure with his fingers, mouth, or tail until UH OH, you didnt beg him to claim you. Oops….cant orgasm because you clearly dont need him like you should. But that doesnt mean HE cant cum. So he’s going to do so and rub it into your skin or cuming against your mouth as he holds it open. Wukong wants to cum in your pussy but he holds back, instead cleaning his cock off with your panties and making you wear them all day. Showing ownership over you.

- [ ] As mentioned before, hes mouthy. He’s going to be good at using his words and voice to pick at things and make you question things. Including calling you out on your body’s reactions to him. He finds it amusing when you try to hide it. He’s going to dig into those things about you and make you squirm - get you worked up as he whispers filthy things to you. Things you might not even have thought about but now you are.

- [ ] All you’re going to know is him, what he can give you and what he does for you. He’s made sure of it. So by the time you finally beg him to stuff you full, finally fully submitting to him and giving up your stubborn pride, he’s not going to hesitate. He’s going to press you down, ass up face pressed to the floor or bed with his hand on the back of your neck as he holds you down. His cock is going to enter you in one thrust and he will be nice for just a moment to let you spasm around his shape. Wukong will coo at you and the second you even slightly relax hes going to pull back and thrust in hard. The way he takes you that first time is total dominance, you will know who you belong to and where you belong. His finger prints will be bruised into your skin and his bite mark on you as he fully claims you as HIS MATE.

- [ ] He’s going to take care of you after though dont worry, he will be gentle and kiss your body. But he’s going to make you orgasm no matter how sore or overstimulated you are - this second round will be softer. The part of him that loves you and wants to pamper you taking over.

- [ ] Wukong wont have any issue playing with you in front of his monkeys (adult ones), so if there’s a meeting going on expect his tail to wander where it shouldn’t, slipping inside you. Or he will have a clone who’s bullied his way between your legs under the table. He might even have you sit on his cock, keeping still as he deals with whatever monkey business is going on. No one will ever see an intimate part of you, he wants to keep that for himself. But they will hear you screaming his name and they will see his marks on you.

- [ ] Over all Wukong as a yandere is much more vocally and mentally manipulative. He is also raw power and strength not used to being denied. If youre too stubborn or push back he’s going to show you who is boss and why HIS way is best. He wont ever truly harm you, but youre going to know punishment / consequences for your actions if you displease him. You’re his mate, so he’s going to take care of you but it’s going to be in the way he deems best. If you fully give yourself over to him he will pamper the absolute fuck out of you while also probably pushing your boundaries here and there. Because he LIKES showing his ownership of you. Wukong wont mind you taking your own pleasure but for every orgasm you have (essentially taking them from him) he’s going to have some form of punishment lined out for you. Your body is going to know the feel of him and him alone, or him and his clones because he has zero problem with pushing you to your limits with his clones, wanting to see you cock drunk on him.

General Both:

- [ ] Regularly walks around with your juices on his chin or on the fur surrounding his cock.

- [ ] Good at after care but doesn’t hold back when he wants something

- [ ] Loves seeing his marks on your skin and presses against them regularly with his fingers to watch you squirm and remember how you got the marks.

- [ ] Not above using all the tricks in the book to get you.

- [ ] Will happily chase you down if you run - into predator/prey stuff.

- [ ] Sensitive to your returned (given willingly) affection.

Extra dark -

these are harsher so skip if you don’t like: Doing a “both” here because it’s easier. These are in general terms so different AUs/situations apply

- [ ] Very jealous & possessive. If someone shows interest in you…they aren’t gonna live long.

- [ ] Will manipulate the things around you without you knowing to get what he wants which is YOU. Be it people or events etc - will make himself look like a good option/only option you have. (If he has to clone into someone or kill someone / make them look bad he will do it)

- [ ] He thinks he knows what’s best for you so whatever he needs to do he will and you will learn that too.

- [ ] Will kill someone you may have been interested in/with/might be married off too.

- [ ] Will assert his dominance by fucking you/making you scream for him in front of someone who had eyes on you/dating you/married to you/getting married to you while a clone of his holds them captive- will kill them after he’s done showing the person who you belong to.

- [ ] Will have you cock warm him while he’s doing important things (WK kingly duties etc). Doesn’t care if others are in the room but they better not LOOK at you. That’s the rule.

- [ ] Will use you until he’s done - especially if you fight him. But he’s going to make sure you crave him and his touch/pleasure.

- [ ] Rough with you, you will have his marks on your body at all times be it scratch’s or bites and bruises. (Might make a special mark - maybe his initials)

- [ ] Going to keep you open and wet for him for when he needs you. Loves you cock drunk and mindless. Uses you as stress relief too after a hard day/fight

- [ ] Would absolutely baby trap you.

- [ ] If he wanted to really play with you, he’d capture you, fuck you, and release you with his cum still filling you (he’s going to be near by don’t worry). He will do this many times until all you can dream about is him/his touch. (Yes he could just keep you but he wants to mentally mess with you - make you crave the pleasure he forces on you)

- [ ] In that same category- will spike your food/drink and will fuck you into his shape. You’ll wake thinking you had some erotic dream but in reality he had genuinely claimed you.

- [ ] Will stalk the fuck out of you, you’ll catch him out of the corner of your eye because he WANTS you to. Wants to smell your fear a little because it excites him.

- [ ] Will make you walk around with his cum on your skin/In you - you WILL smell like his.

- [ ] Will get you anything you need but takes his payment from your body/pleasure. (Publicly too)

- [ ] You will wear the things he picks for you, some for his eyes only. Be it body jewelry or sexy items. When you’re in public you wear his favorite colors on you or the things he adorns you with.

- [ ] Fighting him is useless and only eggs him on - push him too much though and he WILL assert his power over you. You won’t be moving anywhere and will feel his ‘punishment’

- [ ] Mentally/emotionally will make it so you are so far gone on him and dependent on him you don’t even consider escaping anymore.

- [ ] Because while he’s dominant and forceful he adds enough sweetness to keep you addicted to him. Yes, he will take care of you and your basic needs and even provide good after care. You are his mate at the end of the day.

- [ ] You sleep with him every night - snug against his body. (If he hasn’t stolen you away he’s definitely sneaking into your bed)

- [ ] Regularly uses his clones not only to monitor you but to keep you ready for him. Might play punishment games if you cum while being touched by a clone.

- [ ] If someone tries to help you escape you’re going to be given their head as a trophy.

- [ ] If someone tries to take you from him, he’s going to level mountains.

- [ ] Might test you to see if you will try to escape….punishments as consequences.

- [ ] Will protect you with everything he has and any children you give him.

- [ ] Depending on the situation is suspicious if you returning affection - but if he sees it’s genuine he’s going to be smug as fuck and also very vulnerable about it but won’t show that.

[revelboo]

AAAH!! I wasn't expecting you to actually do a story for Rumble 😭 I squealed when I saw it on my timeline 💙 thank you so much and every blessing upon ye, I hope your crops are flourishing, skin is clear etc. etc.

🤣 18+ content 🌶️

Alcohol Eyes Pt 2

IDW Rumble x Reader

• Almost groaning when the little human leans back to put some space between them, his servos flex against soft skin, wanting to pull you back to him. Wanting more as he drops his head against the crook of your neck, mouth finding and chasing the quick beat of your pulse. Hearing that husky laugh of yours that runs electric through him to wind him tight as his palms slide over your soft body. Why had he been so against coming here? He loves it here, loves the noise and press of bodies. Especially yours as he does drag you back to him. “Maybe we can make this a private party?” You ask and he’s not entirely sure what you mean by that, but he’s hoping his guess is right.

• Your stranger’s mouth is on your neck, his lips branding heat over your skin, feeling the barest slip of teeth threatening to nip sending need shivering through you. Forget taking him home as your blood heats. You want this. Pulling away makes him make a low noise that’s almost a growl of protest as you grip his hand and tug him along with you. Half your attention on keeping an eye out for your ex to avoid a fight as you lead your new friend toward the back storage room. You’d worked in the club right out of high school and knew no one ever bothered to lock that door, and you thank every deity you can think of when you find it still unlocked now. It’s darker in here the one bulb hanging from a bare socket doing little to chase away the shadows as you turn to lock the door behind you both.

• Reaching as soon as the lock clicks, Rumble pulls you back into him, servos sliding over you. Venting roughly against your throat, as you reach back to loop an arm around his neck. “Slow down, I’m not going anywhere,” you say, reaching back your other hand to run warm fingers over his thigh. “You want to take off the costume?”

• “No,” he growls, his own hand sliding down your belly, exploring with hesitant touches along the waist band of your jeans. “No.” The word is more insistent, almost desperate when you catch his wrist, like he thinks you’re about to stop him. Shuddering against your back when you guide his hand down the front of your clothes, showing him where you need him.

• Venting raggedly, he cups slick, warm flesh and finds your core to slip a servo inside, feeling the way your heat grips him. “That’s good,” you whisper, leaning your upper body across a container, thighs spreading to give him more access to stroke deeper, his spike aching to be freed. Pulling his hand free to try and figure out how to undo your coverings has you laughing again, the sound stroking over him. “No chill at all, huh?” Shifting to undo that little button and push your pants down. No, he doesn’t have any chill or restraint, wanting this. Needing it as he nudges you back down on your front over the container, freeing his spike to grip himself and slide his length against your slickness. “Wait, my purse. I think I have some-“ you’re saying as he finds you and buries himself inside that wet, welcoming heat that fists his spike, hearing you moan. “Never mind.”

• So much for condoms, but as he rocks his hips, that thick length stroking slowly inside you, there’s no worrying about anything beyond him moving. “Frag, you’re tight,” he snarls, that rough accent you can’t quite place right in your ear as his big hands tighten on your hips to the point you know there’ll be bruising, but he’s still not moving, so you do, rocking as much as you can with your hips up.

• You move against him, pushing yourself back and then he’s thrusting into that wet heat despite wanting to savor the feel of you wrapped around him, that sense of connection he’d been sure he’d never have because of his size, because of his modifications. You’re so small under him as he ruts against you, using his grip on your hips to pull you back to meet the urgent drive of his hips. Hearing the wet sounds of your body taking him and your low, needy sounds that are only for him, because this? It’s his. You’re his.

• He’s not holding back, hips slapping against you, moving hard and deliciously fast. And he is growling, hands flexing on your hips as his frantic thrusts drive you to that peak, then over as he drapes himself against your back with a deep drive of his hips, his mouth against the back of your shoulder, his hips moving in sharp, shallow thrusts as he releases and you tighten on the thick length of him inside you, milking him. “Rumble,” he groans against your skin, hips still moving in shallow, lazy thrusts and you can feel his excess on your inner thigh.

• You lay your cheek on your outstretched arm, head turning to look back at him from the corner of your eye. Smiling when he hesitantly reaches to slide sweat slick hair back from your temple, the intimate gesture stealing your breath for a moment. “Hi, Rumble,” you murmur, laughing softly when he presses himself tighter against you, sheathing himself deep and savoring it as his spark twists with a hunger that’s new and consuming. He’d never really paid much attention to organics before aside from Starscream’s and they were more like a particularly helpless sibling needing protecting. Nothing like this.

• He hasn’t taken off any of his costume except what he’d needed to free himself to fuck you. It’s weird, but not a deal breaker. Not with the lazy way your thighs are trembling or how he’d felt, still feels, inside you. “Can we go again?” He asks so earnestly, so hopefully, and you rock yourself against him in answer. Because while you’d only wanted a quickie to thank him, you’re wondering, praying, he’s single. Because the almost reverent way his big hands slide against your skin, the press of his mouth against your spine in a hungry kiss? This guy’s going to ruin you.

Previous

[zarathelonewolf]

Some people need to write in this absence of courage though, and purely because of it, and purely FOR it.

Not to say that I don't get your point: it is a good point and I would like to see more hopeful dark stories, stories similar to what you prefer. I would prefer them too, ideally.

However sometimes people really do not have the courage to "want something better, to know that it was wrong"... Because to THEM (and I say this as someone who is similar to them to an extent, though I fight everyday to be hopeful) it does not seem like an act of courage, it seems like an act of insolence.

Why insolence? Because of a lot of things.

"How dare you (general you, not you, OP) want something better? The result of what was done for you is a negative thing that pushes you to do negative things, how dare you think that you should want something better?"

This is the insolence I speak of. The insolence they think they are culpable of. Sometimes people really do need to show the trauma "bare". They need to write out the negative voice. It's what they know and they feel isolated because people keep telling them it'll get better but they are not there yet, so they want to show their frustration. They may want to reject the idea of not taking up space, alternatively, when they show their trauma: so they show it in a gritty manner and without solution to spite the people that tell them they should just keep it all in unless they have healed, or unless they have the intention of doing so.

It may not be hopeful dark art, that's true. But that's not what dark stories HAVE TO be in order to be "good art", either. They don't want to fix something. They just want to show it. They are "vent art".

And it is needed. By people that don't have the "courage" yet, that maybe won't ever have that courage. They need to see something other than their mind crumble... something other than their body, something other than their voice, something other than their memory while it's crumbling. They need to see a story that crumbles without getting back up. That way they feel less alone, perhaps. They feel that the suffering is real and that it does not need healing to be considered suffering. Especially when others interact with the story and cry alongside them while in a similar situation.

A weird broken sort of solace so to speak.

Is it nice? No, not really. But in certain moments of people's lives it's what they need. In a twisted sense, for some people, all they will ever want to experience. It's not just insolence after all. For certain people, darkness itself is the refuge, because the world outside is too bright and a lot people want to be rid of their dark thoughts and want the victims themselves to be rid of the dark thoughts and find a solution for them, whereas these victims just CAN'T, they can't manage yet and they feel inadequate so they produce something that makes them feel like they matter for something.

Something dark and gritty and hopeless.

Art isn't good due to the fact that it expresses correct values. Art is good because it makes you feel, or merely because you feel drawn to interacting with it. Same goes for dark art. It is good dark art when it makes you feel dark stuff, whether or not it heads towards a good or bad ending.

I say this as someone who is hopeless about herself and himself and hopeful for others. Weird right? But it's how I exist. People's comfort sometimes makes me feel even lonelier. I would prefer silence and reading dark content AND hurt/comfort most of the time.

I come from a place of being pressured into healing. I want to heal on my own now, I don't trust therapists for shit. I will find my hope but not now. And dark content with hopelessness, vent art done purely for the vent and not for the healing helps me immensely because I feel my resistance to healing seen without someone telling me that I can heal because I know I CAN, I just don't want to because people have all sorts of expectations about how my healing should be, but while people can object to my healing not really being healing, they can hardly disagree that the dark stuff I write isn't dark. At least in my experience.

People have differing types of sensitivity, and not all people who are lovers love themselves. Love doesn't have to be total, not all people experience it like that. Sensitivity does not have to make you like dark hopeless stories, but it does not mean you are sensitive only if you prefer hopeful stories OR when you reject completely dark stories. People can be "lovers" and sensitive in all three of cases. So I agree about being frustrated for people saying "you're not sensitive enough" because that's not true, your sensitivity simply differs from theirs.

Vent art can be self care just as much as hopeful art. And dark content does not have to be vent art, it can also just want to make people witness gross stuff because they enjoy gross stuff being depicted for the sake of it (to make an example: people with certain laraphilias that cannot be explored safely in real life).

I am merely playing devil's advocate, with the devil being something I love: my only chance at venting without feeling pressured into a reaction. So I will concede this exposition may seem personal, almost too personal, and angry, but I tend to be passionate about the things I love.

I hope I didn't anger people with my response to this. But then again, I should take up space more often...

too much to say in a post but i re-read (partly skimmed) my manuscript of my book from a year and a half ago and it's so fucking good and also feels like a hemisphere of my brain has been returned to me. like oh yeah. my creative self. the fullness of my being. i missed you

i need to fucking talk about it but it's intimidating

[rnnsdrms]

f1 drivers and popular romance tropes: charles leclerc !!

DEAREST READER. hello there! while waiting for the two-week break to end, i needed a little f1 headcanon/scenario to heal me from the famine. anyway, here’s for the leclerc fans out there! it’s funny that i’m posting his first when i actually finished oscar’s first 😂 i hope you’ll enjoy~ for more drivers, you can see my masterlist at the end of the post !

CONTENT WARNINGS. no warnings. just a heads-up that i am an 18+ blog and i prefer only adults visit my profile page. if you’re a minor, you can still read this work since it’s sfw. so, i hope everyone out there is being honest with themselves. oh, probably my fucked up english grammar because why do i care it’s pure vibes !

WORD COUNT. 998 words (ugh, so close to 1k) !

I debated with this idea, but after some time, I decided that mutual pining suits Charles Leclerc better. There is so much potential for slow-burn and comedy. It’s the kind of story where there’s already an established sense of familiarity between you and Charles, one that has existed for as long as either of you can remember. But it has never crossed into anything as intimate as being ‘lovers’. Sure, both your groups of friends always comment about how the two of you argue like a married couple and suggest you should just make it official already, but you and Charles dodge these accusations as swiftly as an F1 driver dodging a collision course.

While you and Charles may eye-roll or stick your tongue out at the sight of each other, both of you secretly wish for something more. Yet, neither dares to make a move, fearing the loss of the bond binding you and him. The platonic relationship between you and him feels comfortable, and disrupting that would seem like the foolish move of the century. So, to preserve it, you’re quick to ignore your feelings, and he does the same. As a result, pent-up, endearing emotions often spill out in the form of silly banter and subtle jealousy. The sneaky glances across the room and the lame lies told when either of you got caught staring seem endless. This routine is no different to playing a song on repeat: it’s the only thing that you’re both fixated on, apparently. At this point, provoking each other just to see what kind of reaction the other can elicit can be considered a love language. You think he’s just being annoying as usual, while he thinks you’re unbearably nosy–and it doesn’t help that he has heard of the ‘you want to kiss me so bad’ meme and he has used it against you every single time you are about to start an argument with him.

Charles Leclerc, despite being a multiple Grand Prix winner and has earned himself many titles–The Prince of Ferrari, The King of Monza, The Sun of Maranello, The Predestined–he still can’t officially call himself ‘your boyfriend’. It’s pathetic and it pisses him off. Currently one of the best drivers on the F1 grid, he has placed himself among legendary rivals, and yet, he can’t seem to place himself on the same bed as yours. Although his fame attracts the attention of high-profile celebrities and influencers, Charles has his thoughts and eyes only on you, even when he is currently surrounded by them. You, on the other hand, love to torture yourself by watching him sitting and talking with glamorous models–or just pretty women in general. He says it’s an occupational hazard, but the way you see it–or rather, feel it–it is more of an emotional hazard to you. But you’re not just going to sit around and drink your sorrows away. No. You’re going to greet and chat with his driver friends … but him.

His eyes narrow dangerously whenever he sees you hanging out with another man, even with his fellow F1 driver friends. But he starts losing his cool when he sees one of them initiate physical contact with you. While you’re giving them your best smile and laughter, Charles is already plotting how to commit a massacre on the next circuit. When you notice that he’s beginning to space out, you decide to approach him, incoming snide remarks already up your sleeve to torment Ferrari’s golden boy.

‘So,’ you start, taking the long-awaited empty seat beside him, ‘is she going to be your next in-chi-dent? Or just another pit stop?’

‘What? I’m the most charming guy in the room. I can’t help if all the ladies want a piece of me.’

‘Oh, please.’ You roll your eyes, ‘you’re about as charming as a stalled-out engine on a race day.’ You add, taking a sip of your drink.

A grin spreads across Charles’ thin lips as he leans closer to you–his chin barely above your shoulder. ‘Is that so? Funny, because I thought I’m just like Ferrari–impossible to resist.’

You try to repress the blush that is beginning to creep up your cheeks by staring at him dead in the eyes. ‘Well, since you are a Ferrari, then I guess I’m the safety car. Always having to slow you down when you get too full of yourself.’

The slight shock on Charles’ face gives you immense satisfaction, and you don’t try to hide it. But he is also quick to gain composure.

‘Or maybe, you’re just the chequered flag I’ve been racing toward all along ...’ He said, but his words seem to trail off in the wind.

It catches you off guard, and you stare at him with a questioning look, only to see Charles’ green eyes gazing at you tenderly. Oh, you hate it so much when he looks at you like that.

‘Nice try.’ You quickly cover your raging emotions with a smirk. ‘But you’re still stuck in the pits.’

• ───────────────────────────•

[ SONGS FOR THIS TROPE: Taylor Swift – Dress ✦ Sabrina Carpenter – Nonsense ✦ Arctic Monkeys – I Wanna Be Yours ✦ Gracie Abrams – Feels Like ✦ Lana Del Rey – Say Yes To Heaven ✦ Ariana Grande — goodnight n go ]

• ───────────────────────────•

˗ˏˋ MASTERLIST ˎˊ˗ ˗ˏˋ KO-FI ˎˊ˗

RNNSDRMS™. SUPPORT WRITERS BY REBLOGGING THEIR WORK. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, TRANSLATE, OR POST MY WORKS ON ANY SITE. I WILL POST MY POSTS ON OTHER SOCIAL MEDIA SITES MYSELF AND THAT’S ALL YOU GET.