#google and university classes helped

[compacflt]

ice and his obnoxious ass academy ring are my fav part of TG 86'

does your mav have any thoughts ab his husband wearing that damn ring

he’s probably still a little bitter about it but it’s not like ice SHOULDNT be proud of going to the USNA or anything so what is he gonna do, ask him to take it off??

i have this image ive yet to incorporate into any of my writing where ice spends his whole life with the USNA ring on the fourth finger of his right hand & feels a little imbalanced. something’s missing. & then he marries maverick, and he has the wedding ring on the fourth finger of his left hand, and finally he is complete. he has both. he is both a great officer and someone capable of love. neither side is subservient to the other anymore. they coexist in harmony at the end of the day. and of course that’s something maverick would respect.

oh shit brb adding that image to my slider one-shot rn

[nexus-nebulae]

another childhood bucket list item obtained: i finally have a snuggie

[miserye]

oh man.

[sunshineyuyu]

chained (c. jh)

★ summary: jongho wears a silver chain that you’re obsessed with, and you finally get his attention after some calculated flirting with yunho and some beer pong. ★ pairing: jongho x f!reader (ft. yunho) ★ genre: friends to lovers, college, smut (mdni!) ★ word count: 5.4k ★ tags/warnings: alcohol consumption, vaginal fingering, jongho calls reader babygirl and yunho calls reader princess, features friend!san and previous hookup!yunho, some jealousy/tension, reader also kinda uses yunho… but he’s okay with it, lowercase ★ notes: beta’d by the bestie @starhwas-bunny. there may or may not be a yunho prequel coming soon hehehehe. also please let me know if i’ve missed any warnings! ★ masterlist | read on ao3 | part 2

you feel your eyelids droop, heavy from the burden of attempting to stay away in this godforsaken class. it doesn’t help that the seats in this lecture hall are so damn comfortable: plush and tall enough for full back and neck support and a slight give that lets you lean back. you’re one lecture slide away from calling it a day—even though class started just ten minutes ago—when you feel something at your left shoulder.

it’s choi jongho, leaning closer towards you over the armrest dividing your seats. 

hot, attractive choi jongho, with broad shoulders and strong arms and thick thighs. 

you stare adamantly at your laptop screen, at the blank google doc open, at the blinking cursor teasing you for almost falling asleep. you focus on literally anything except jongho’s overwhelming presence at your side–the subtle scent of his musky shampoo, his hot breath fanning over your shoulder.

 the silver chain that he normally hides behind the collar of his shirt hangs out, dangling in a way that has you imagining a different scenario: your string lights illuminating the outline of his body while he presses you into the mattress with his weight, one hand gripping your waist and the other on the headboard, that goddamn silver chain swinging above you while he—

“late night last night?” jongho says, voice low because you’re in class, and deliciously deep. it’s unintentionally sultry, and you find yourself squeezing your thighs together.

“shut up,” you say. “i was finishing an essay.”

jongho hums, and you start to aimlessly copy down the words of the lecture slide. you know that jongho sees right through you; the slides will be posted online later, so there’s no point regurgitating the content.

but you cannot let yourself look at jongho, because you’d probably try to kiss him right then and there.

“weren’t you with yunho?” he says.

“not like that,” you grit out. “we’re just in the same class so he was helping me.”

jongho hums, and he finally returns to the confines of his own seat. you let out a breath of relief. you continue copying down words from the powerpoint, even letting yourself tune into the professor’s voice; at least you’re wide awake now, a nagging feeling of want coursing through you.

you feel a nudge at your other elbow. this presence is comfortable, familiar. it’s san, your first friend at university who is conveniently the same major as you. even though he’s just as big and built as jongho, he’s less intimidating. he’s soft and nice, and he’s showing you a topical meme on his phone from  some computer science joke twitter account.

unfortunately, jongho notices san’s phone turned towards you and leans over again, except this time he’s closer, his shoulder brushing against yours as he tries to make sure he’s also included in the joke.

“i don’t get it,” he says.

“it’s because you’re not actually a computer science major,” you say, rolling your eyes and pushing jongho back into his seat—you exert more effort than you anticipated because of how solid jongho is.

“tsk,” jongho says. “at least i actually understand what’s going on in this class.”

this shuts you up, and you go back to glaring at your laptop and reformatting your bullets because you’ve already lost track of the lecture.

you last another fifteen minutes of attempting to pay attention, before you resign yourself to scrolling through instagram and mentally planning how you can coerce jongho into sharing his immaculately organized notes.

in the final minute of class, the whole class begins unceremoniously packing up, even though the professor is still droning on about greedy algorithms. everyone shuffles out of their row and through the doors at the back of the lecture hall, and jongho falls into step with san, talking about working on the homework tonight. you walk a step behind them, because your legs are shorter and because you want plausible deniability while admiring the shear breadth of jongho’s shoulders.

you leave the lecture hall, and san heads to the academic quad for his next class.

“see you later,” you say to him and jongho, who usually has to work at the library after class, but you notice him following you to the coffeehouse.

“don’t you have work?” you say.

“i changed my schedule,” jongho says. “are you gonna go work at the cafe?”

you nod, and he follows you to the campus coffeehouse where you stand in a fifteen minute line. jongho only gets drip coffee, so you end up ordering something frivolous to make the wait worth it. the two of you squeeze into a small table in the corner, your knees constantly brushing against each other as you read over the essay you wrote last night in a red bull induced haze.

most of it is thankfully salvageable, and the hit of caffeine helps you.

every once in a while, you find yourself glancing over the top of your laptop at jongho. at the lines of concentration etched into his handsome, tanned face. how his hair is getting scruffy and how he pouts when he’s deep in thought.

you’re so hopelessly in love with choi jongho.

at some point, he gets up to get a napkin, and when he returns, he doesn’t sit back down in his own seat. no—instead he hovers behind you, invading your space with one hand on the back of your chair and the other stretched onto the table to keep himself stable.

and that chain—that goddamn silver chain dances over your shoulder again.

“what do you want?” you mumble, skin prickling at the sensation of his proximity.

“this is not bad,” jongho says, eyes skimming over your essay.

“what’s with the tone of surprise?” you retort.

jongho shrugs. “just thought you would’ve been distracted last night.”

you finally chance a look at him, if only to stare at him puzzled until it finally clicks. you shove him off—subconsciously admiring, once again, just how solid he feels.

“for the last time,” you say. “it’s not like that. yunho’s just a friend.”

jongho sits back down, patting the napkin on a part of his laptop.

“good.”

you stop typing and gape at jongho, who’s returned to focusing on his own work. did he- did he just—? your brain works at miles a minute, offering bold assumptions and then instantly refuting them and then rebutting those and then raising new anxieties and then being hopeful and then—

you spend the rest of the time at the coffeehouse overanalyzing one word you’re not even sure you heard.

⋆⋆⋆

the three of you are sat around the coffee table in the living room of jongho and san’s apartment on the west side of campus. their apartment has become the haven for your discrete math class, where jongho blesses you and san with his knowledge in a class he’s taking pass/fail that isn’t even a major requirement for him. their apartment also has plenty of alcohol for when the nights get particularly rough and a good stash of unhealthy stacks.

it’s 1 am now, and the three of you have finished three out of five of the homework questions, eaten five packets of ramen, two sleeves of strawberry pocky, downed six bottles of yakult, and watched an eighteen minute youtube video theorizing that bakugou might become the second user of one for all.

you’d consider this a productive night.

now, you’re perched on the couch, san leaning against your legs while you play with his hair. it’s softer than yours, which frustrates you to no end because you know for a fact that he uses 5-in-1—how are there even five things to incorporate into one bottle?

jongho’s in the kitchen, contemplating a late night—or early morning—beer.

“seonghwa’s throwing a party this weekend,” jongho says, when he returns with another bottle of yakult instead of the beer. the bottle is already small, but it’s positively dwarfed by the size of his hands.

“if seonghwa’s hosting, then yunho will be there,” jongho continues. he looks pointedly at you.

“i thought,” you say, tugging a little on san’s hair and earning a sharp shout of pain, “we established that i don’t. like. yunho.””

“but didn’t you hook up with him?” san says, removing himself from your vindictive fingers and rubbing his scalp. as he sits up to look at you, he instantly regrets bringing up this point as you glare daggers at him. he’s not wrong; you and yunho had hooked up once, at the birthday party of an acquaintance, after seeing jongho chatting up some other pretty girl.

“you guys hooked up?” jongho says, breaking the stare-off you’re having with san for betraying your trust like that.

“it didn’t mean anything,” you say quickly, glancing up at jongho and double-taking at the shadow that’s fallen over his expression. how his jaw looks tensed and his eyes narrowed.

“but you guys hooked up,” he repeats.

“just the one time,” you say, not quite understanding why it feels like you’re being accused of something far worse than a hookup between two consenting and single adults. “we were high and he was just there and it happened.”

“when?” jongho says, continuing the interrogation and maintaining eye contact with you while san switches his attention between the two of you, the instigator but certainly not the mediator of this conversation.

“at yeji’s birthday party,” you say. 

“so that’s why we had to pick you up from the burger place on 8th,” jongho says. “because you were at his place.”

“yeah,” you say. “but it literally does not matter because i don’t like him. we’re just friends, and i’m not gonna hook up with him again.”

jongho stares at you.

“good.”

there it is again. that word, said under his breath. barely there, but enough that you feel a mix of doubt and hope.

you hate it.

“hey!” san says, forcefully cheerful in a way that means he’s trying to change the subject to diffuse the situation. “i found another my hero theory video. the one has 100k views!”

you drop jongho’s gaze first, letting your attention shift to the video san has pulled up on his laptop. “i just don’t think my hero is that deep,” you sigh, trying to ignore the way you can still feel jongho’s eyes on you.

“well, 100 thousand people do,” san sniffs. “including me.”

finally, jongho takes the bait. “how long is it?” he asks.

“thirty minutes!” san says cheerfully.

you and jongho both groan, but dutifully allow san to press play.

over the next thirty minutes, you tune in and out of the overdramatic video as you turn over the previous conversation in your head. you can’t help but read into the situation: clearly jongho is bothered that you’re close with yunho and hooked up with him once. in fact, he’s so bothered that you could even interpret it as being… jealous. 

but if he is, why doesn’t he do anything about it?

you’re half asleep by the time the video ends. san nudges you and gives you an sheepish, apologetic smile.

“it’s late,” he says. “do you want us to drive you home?”

“nah,” you say. “can i just stay over? i’m too tired to move.”

it’s not your first time staying over. your apartment is on the other side of campus, so after most long nights of working you sleep on the couch. san lets you borrow the same old high school volleyball shirt every time, and you slip into it and pull off your jeans. the shirt is thankfully long enough to cover your butt, and the no-pants thing has never been a problem.

until now, when you step out of the bathroom, and jongho’s just entering his bedroom, and he looks at you. you clearly see his eyes roam down your legs before springing back up to meet yours.

“let me get you a pillow and blanket,” he says, voice gruff and deep.

“san’s getting—”

“let me get you a pillow and blanket,” he repeats.

it feels like an olive branch, and you fall asleep surrounded by jongho’s scent. distinctly masculine and musky and oddly soothing.

⋆⋆⋆

when you wake up the next morning, it’s to the sound of whirring from the kitchen. from your spot on the couch, you can vaguely make out the blurry shape of someone in the kitchen. your hand flails around the coffee table, blindly slapping until you find your glasses and shove them onto your face.

it’s jongho, wearing gray sweats and no shirt, leaning against the counter while making coffee. you take the time to admire his back, feeling your cheeks warm as you do. in all honesty, you’re surprised that this is the first time you’ve ever seen him shirtless, and you’d be dumb not to take advantage of it.

you run your eyes over the contours of the muscles in his back, the way they flex and ripple as he crosses and uncrosses his arms.

you yawn and wipe at the sleep still in your eyes. this noise gets to jongho, and he turns around. this action draws a sound out of you, something that comes from the back of your throat, somewhere between a gasp and a groan. because jongho—

jongho’s shirtless, and he’s facing you, his naked torso completely exposed to you. you stare at that goddamn silver chain, nestled against his substantial chest. at the miles and miles of smooth, tanned skin and his fucking arms.

you clap a hand over your mouth and pretend to yawn again.

“you want coffee?” jongho calls.

“yeah,” you manage to say, while laying back onto your back and averting your eyes to the ceiling.

a little while later, you hear jongho pad towards you and you sit back up again. he gives you a mug of coffee and sits down at the opposite end of the couch, leaning back and stretching out his offensively nice upper body. the light from outside peeks in from the blinds of the large balcony windows and bathes his skin in golden stripes.

“is san—?”

“he’s at his 8 am,” jongho says. “when’s your first class again?”

“not until 10:45,” you say. “i’m gonna go home and shower and stuff first.”

“i’ll give you a ride,” jongho says.

you protest politely, mostly because you don’t know if you’ll be able to stand being in such a small space with him, especially when he drives a sleek black mercedes with silky black leather that’s just begging for someone to ruin with some steamy car sex.

but jongho manages to convince you that he needs to drop by the convenience store on the east side of campus anyway, so you find yourself following him down to the apartment parking lot, wearing yesterday’s clothes and hair tied up in a bun to disguise how oily it is.

when he backs out of his spot, he does that thing: wraps his arm around the back of your seat and backs out with one hand. it’s disgustingly attractive.

you sink lower into the heated seat, staring out the window to avoid daydreaming about car sex with jongho.

⋆⋆⋆

you do end up going to seonghwa’s party that friday, after your girlfriends unceremoniously invite themselves into your apartment carrying a huge case of peach soju and a twelve pack of beer.

after a beer and two shots of soju, you’ve changed into a crop top, a silky leopard print skirt, and cute black boots. 

thankfully, seonghwa’s place is only a block away from your apartment, but you and your friends still find a way to get lost on the way there. it takes ten minutes longer than necessary, but you’re finally crashing into the living room of seonghwa’s townhouse.

it’s already packed, but roomy enough that you can move freely without having to slide against other sweaty and drunk people. you break off from your friends to seek out san (and jongho). as you pass the kitchen, you swipe a red solo and a meager amount of whatever mixed drink atrocity they’ve made for the night that you immediately water down. you’re man enough to acknowledge that you’re a lightweight, and you’ll be damned if you end the night puking into a toilet rather than flirting with jongho.

you find san first. he’s lurking near the beer pong table, leaning against the wall and talking to wooyoung. you sneak up on him and he jumps when you give his side a big poke.

“san!” you say, wrapping him a big hug. you’re known to be more affectionate with alcohol in your system. after san clumsily returns your hug to avoid spilling his drink on you, you release him and give wooyoung a similar hug.

“where’s jongho?” you ask, standing on your toes to speak directly into san’s ear.

san points to the other side of the pong table, where you see jongho huddled in a corner with some blonde girl who looks suspiciously like the one from yeji’s birthday party. your reaction is immediate, something joining the alcohol to course through your veins—something fiery and prickling. jealousy, you think numbly.

“we’re playing next,” san says. “me and jongho. you should stay to watch.”

you hum noncommittally, peering at the ids lined up on the pong table and seeing only jongho’s. an idea strikes you, and you give san a peck on the cheek and some excuse about using the bathroom.

you wander back through the crowd of people, occasionally saying hi to people you know as you seek out one individual in particular. you find him on the couch, arm hung lazily on the back, hovering behind some girl. he’s clearly chatting her up, leaning close to her ear and hooded eyes making generous peeks at her cleavage.

you down the rest of your diluted mixed drink and throw yourself at him.

“yunho!” you cry, squeezing into the small space between him and the arm of the couch, meaning you’re basically sitting on him. “thank you so much for helping me with the essay! i definitely would’ve failed without you.” you flutter your eyelashes at him and simper.

the girl scowls visibly, crossing her arms in a way that makes her tits swell, but yunho barely notices—you know he has a sweet spot for you ever since that one night stand, and besides, he could get any girl he wants.

“y/n,” yunho says, shifting his body so that his back is to the girl now. she scoffs and leaves. “you good?”

“i’m great,” you giggle.

“you look good,” yunho says, shamelessly running his eyes over your figure.

“let’s play beer pong,” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“you think you’re good for pong?” he says, a little dubiously as you let out a hiccup.

“yeah, because i know you’ll carry,” you say.

“alright, princess,” he says. “let’s go.”

you tumble off of him and pretend to be wobbly on your feet to let him steady you as you walk towards the beer pong table. yunho slips his wallet out of his pocket and slides his id onto the table to get in line to play the winner.

when he notices jongho, yunho lets out a chuckle.

“ah, y/n,” he says, catching your wrist and pulling you into him. “i see what’s happening.”

your cheeks heat up at being caught so quickly. “i’m sorry,” you say sincerely. “he keeps bringing you up and being weird, but now, he’s got that girl with him…”

“don’t worry, princess,” yunho says. “i know how to put on a show.”

jongho and san are playing now, and it looks like they’re winning. that same chick from before is hanging off of his arm, acting like a cheerleader. you catch jongho’s gaze, and the cheery smile he’s wearing slips off immediately when he notices yunho behind you, hands on either side of your waist.

you shiver as jongho gives you a salacious up-down that has you convinced you’ve pressed the right buttons to make something happen tonight. you giggle, tugging your lower lip in between your teeth and leaning a little closer to yunho.

something must snap inside jongho, because he and san end the game with three cups in quick succession. the losers slink off, as you and yunho take their place. yunho reracks the cups and refills them with a thin layer of beer. jongho rolls a ping pong ball towards you. 

“eyes,” he says.

when yours lock onto his, you smirk. he grimaces.

to decide who gets to start, you have to hold eye contact with each other and try to make a cup. whoever makes one first gets to start the actual game. jongho misses, but you don’t, so you and yunho get to go first.

you and yunho go toe to toe with jongho and san, which is surprising considering how little beer pong you play. by the fourth turn, the blonde girl has left, unsatisfied with the lack of attention she’s received from jongho. by the seventh turn, you and yunho have two cups left, and jongho and san have three.

yunho goes, and makes the first. you cheer and jump up to plant a wet kiss on his cheek. he steps behind you, massaging your shoulders theatrically. you close your left eye, lining up your shot. just as you’re about to let go of the ball, you turn around and pull yunho down to your height.

“give me a good luck kiss!”

he smiles into the kiss, which turns out to have a lot more tongue than you’d expected, but yunho is a good kisser so you don’t mind.

“let’s go, princess,” yunho says, slapping your ass as you turn back to the pong table.

jongho’s positively glowering at this point, and you smirk at him as you map out your shot again.

you miss.

you’re not entirely surprised.

yunho’s not even mad, and begins grossly comforting you with arms wrapped around your shoulders and kisses to the crown of your head.

jongho and san make the last two cups easily.

“too bad, princess,” yunho says into your hair. “you were doing so well.”

you pull yourself out of his grasp. “bathroom,” you explain sheepishly. yunho gives you a knowing look and a wink.

you’ve been to seonghwa’s house enough to know about the secret bathroom on the second floor that he doesn’t allow partygoers to use, so you slink up the stairs when million dollar baby starts playing and the crowd swells with renewed enthusiasm.

just as you’re closing the door behind you, a shoe shoots out to stop the action. someone pushes the door back open, and who else but—

jongho.

“i thought you said you didn’t like yunho,” he hisses down at you.

“i need to pee,” you reply, cocking your head to one side and widening your eyes at him.

he considers you for a second before stepping inside the bathroom and locking the door behind him.

“alright,” he says. “pee.”

“i don’t- are you going to watch me?” you say.

“didn’t seem like you minded people seeing you and yunho all wrapped up downstairs,” jongho says, crossing his arms over his chest, and you hate the way his biceps bulge when he does.

“that’s different from- from peeing,” you mumble.

“fine,” jongho says, and he turns around to stare at the bathroom door.

you’re not entirely satisfied, but you really do need to pee, so you pull down your underwear and sit on the toilet.

it’s awkward, but at least the music and noise downstairs mask the sound. you end up peeing for a surprisingly long time, and even jongho feels the need to break the tension with a poorly timed,

“damn, you’re like a waterfall.”

“i’ve had a lot to drink tonight,” you snap.

“you’re that drunk?”

“no—i’m drinking water, too, you bastard,” you say, finally finished. “don’t want to be hungover tomorrow.”

you flush and wash your hands, and then you’re leaning against the sink and saying, “okay, you can turn around.”

he does. “so. yunho?” he prompts again.

“i told you,” you say, staring directly above jongho’s shoulder. “i don’t like him.”

“then why were you all over him?”

“why do you care?” you sneer.

“just answer the question, y/n,” jongho says.

“why are you so obsessed with yunho?” you say. “if you want to fuck him, be my guest! i won’t get in the way.”

this hits a sore spot, because jongho moves quickly, crowding you into the sink in one step.

“it’s not him i want to fuck,” he breathes.

your breath hitches in your throat. you feel your heartbeat in your mouth.

“what do you mean,” you say, mouth unbelievably dry.

“c’mon, y/n,” jongho says, voice husky. he’s looking at you, eyes darting to your lips. “you can figure this out.”

it’s the same phrase he always uses when you’re struggling through a discrete math problem that he’s already solved, but normally he’s nice, barely teasing.

right now, he sounds downright condescending.

so, you snap. you grab him by his chain and tug him down to your height, slot your lips over his and kiss him.

his lips are nice. soft. he tastes like minty chapstick and bitter beer. his tongue slips into your mouth, and suddenly the kiss takes a turn from intense to lewd.

his hands find your waist, his palms burning into the exposed skin between your crop top and your skirt. his thick thigh pushes apart your legs, and your skirt rucks up above your hips. you gasp and break away to tug at the hem, but jongho stops you.

“that’s counter productive,” he whispers.

“okay,” you say. “i’ll be productive then.” and you pull off your crop top to reveal a lacy black bra and pull up your skirt all the way to reveal a matching lacy black thong. you hear jongho inhale, and then a deep chuckle.

“fuck,” he says, drawing out the word. he meets your eyes again. “you’re so fucking hot.”

“that’s you,” you say.

he dives back in to mouth at your pulse point, as his hands slip down to your ass, palming the flesh and leading you to grind against his thigh. he’s flexing, and the fabric of your underwear is thin and you can already feel a wet patch spreading, and the combination along with the friction of the movement has you moaning.

“that’s what i like to hear.”

you hear the muted opening strums of mr.brightside just as jongho’s thumb begins circling your clit over your underwear. you moan into his shoulder and buck against his hand. he continues to work you until the crotch of your panties is practically soaked, and you’re a whining mess. 

“p- please,” you whisper, fingernails digging into his shoulders.

“since you asked so nicely,” he murmurs, and he’s drawing aside the lace and pushing two fingers into you. you throw your head back at the feeling of being filled and stretched; his fingers are long and thick, nothing like your own or any of your previous hook-ups.

“shit, you’re so wet,” he says, pulling back to watch his fingers fucking you. the sound it makes is positively vulgar, and you pant with every motion. at some point, he starts curling his fingers so that they hit that perfect spot in the back and rubbing his thumb across your clit, and you can feel your high building.

“fuck, jongho,” you whine. 

“shit, babygirl, you’re gonna make me cum in my pants if you keep talking like that,” jongho says, smiling into your neck.

“don’t,” you say. “you can- you can- please, fuck me. you can- cum in me.”

jongho stops, only the tips of his fingers teasing at your entrance, and you whimper as your pussy clenches around nothing.

“are you serious?” he asks, as you circle your hips in an attempt at some relief.

“yes,” you hiss.

“fuck, babygirl,” jongho says, taking a step back and a new glint in his eyes.

but just as he puts his hand on the button of his jeans, there’s a sharp rap on the door that makes both of you jump.

“oi! this bathroom is off-limits!” it’s seonghwa, and to be fair, he’s right. 

“give us a second!” jongho calls, wincing at the subtext. you jump off of the bathroom sink, swaying a little with how jittery your legs are. jongho stabilizes you with a hand on your hip and hands you your shirt.

“jongho? is that you?” seonghwa says. “little shit. this is the third time—”

your head snaps up to look at jongho, who’s unlocking the door and pushing it open, effectively interrupting seonghwa’s rant. he nudges you out first, standing behind you, and you suspect it’s to hide the very visible tent in his pants that’s currently pressed against your ass.

“oh,” seonghwa says, as his eyes fall onto you. he takes a second, glancing back and forth between the two of you, running over your mussed hair and flushed cheeks, jongho’s screwed up face and his right hand still grasping your hip, the wrinkles in your skirt and finally—

“oh,” seonghwa repeats. “oh, shit. okay, well congrats and all that—” and here he punches jongho in the shoulder “—but that doesn’t mean you can fuck in my bathroom!” he finishes cheerfully. he steps behind jongho and begins ushering the two of you back down the stairs and through the living room until you’re on his front porch.

“if you’re going to be doing the nasty, i’d rather you do that at home!” seonghwa says, wagging a finger in your face. “make sure you use protection! love you both!” and he shuts the door.

he leaves you and jongho in a stunned silence, both staring at the closed door.

“uh—” jongho tries.

“what did he mean third time?” you say.

“oh,” jongho says, and his big dick energy dissipates as a sheepish expression takes over. “well, i- i might’ve… y’know… a couple times in seonghwa’s bathroom.” he rubs the back of his neck and offers you an apologetic, gummy smile.

“and you got mad at me for fucking yunho once in his own apartment?” you demand, actually stopping your foot to emphasize the clear double standard at play. “while you were off playing merry-go-fuck-around in seonghwa’s private bathroom?”

“i wasn’t mad at you,” jongho says. “i was just—”

“just what?” you say. “slut-shaming me for having consensual sex?”

“no!” jongho says quickly. “i was jealous.”

“oh,” you say. so, you’d been right. he has been jealous of you and yunho. but somehow, you don’t feel vindicated in the slightest. “i mean—that doesn’t make it any better. i’m not some object—”

“i know that,” jongho says, exasperated. “but i just wanted to be… with you.”

“with me?” you say, wrinkling your nose. “you wanted to fuck me, too? like those other girls you had up in seonghwa’s bathroom?”

“no! with you, like—” jongho’s tongue darts out to wet his lower lip “—like as your boyfriend.”

oh.

well, you hadn’t been expecting that. you blink at him once, then twice. you open your mouth and close it again, gaping like a goldfish.

“do you- do you like me?” you ask, voice hoarse.

“well, yeah,” jongho says. “do… you like me?”

“yes!” you nearly shout the word. “yes—i’ve been in lo- i’ve liked you for at least a whole semester!”

“oh,” jongho says, looking as dumbfounded as you feel. “well, me too.”

you look at each other, and then start laughing. you hiccup, and jongho moves closer to you, wrapping his substantial arms around your shoulders and pulling you into his firm, warm chest. your cheek presses against that goddamn silver chain, but it’s no longer a source of stress for you. he peppers the crown of your forehead with kisses, until you finally look up at him and he kisses your lips softly.

“so,” he says, “can i?”

you raise your eyebrows. “can you what?”

“be your boyfriend?”

you pretend to contemplate the question, and when it takes you longer than a few seconds to respond, he knocks his chin against your temple affectionately.

“yeah,” you say, grinning. “yeah, you can be my boyfriend.”

“so then, what do you say about going back to my place and finishing what we started?” he asks.

“yes, please.”

continued in part 2!

[inotakumagf]

a skater boy’s dream girl

✶ ino takuma x reader

word count ✺ 2K

summary ✺ ino takuma is a hopeless romantic, but that never hurt anyone

warning ✺ none! very cute, very fluffy jujutsu college au. title insinuates fem reader, but the actual fic is gn!

Ino Takuma is tired. He spent his entire evening in Jujutsu University's massive library, working on a research paper that his professor had assigned in one of his stupid required courses. He feels useless when it comes to research papers, because it’s impossible for him to put all his jumbling, complicated thoughts into a neat essay. And Takuma knows he’s smart. He’d just rather show it through his actions instead of his words, because he’s always had a hard time with those. 

His degree advisor, Professor Nanami, has been helping him by editing his papers and guiding him through the research process. But the two have realized that Takuma’s ADHD is tricky to accommodate. Takuma is just lucky that his advisor cares so much to help him anytime he needs. Except for tonight.

Professor Nanami apologized to him earlier in the day about it, pushing his glasses up and citing “other preoccupations for the night”. If someone asked Takuma to bet money on it, he’d say his mentor has a date. Not that he’d ask, but he’s so stoked for his professor that he’d assured him he’d be fine making progress on the paper all on his own. And even as he laments his lackluster writing session, he’s glad Nanami is enjoying his personal life away from the university. 

It’s on his way out of the library that he bumps into you for the first time. He practically runs into the elevator, pressing hard on the button for the first floor. He hears you call out for him to hold the door. Despite the fact that Takuma is half-dead on his feet, he’s not the kind of person to stare at someone as the elevator doors close. So he sticks his arm out and holds it until you hop in. You have a stack of binders and books in one arm and a laptop bag slung over the other shoulder. 

You gasp out, “Thanks. These elevators take forever to come back up.”

Takuma hums in agreement and scoots to the edge of the elevator to give you space. His stomach is doing a million kickflips at the sight of you. He’s never seen you on campus before, there’s no way he has. Because he would definitely remember someone as attractive as you. He ignores his stuttering heart and stares down at his feet. He really needs to get back to his dorm without making a fool of himself. 

The elevator stops again, and a girl walks in. She seems to recognize you, because the two of you start talking about a shared class. Takuma has no idea what kind of class this is, but he’s admittedly kind of obsessed with you already so he pulls his phone out to Google it. He pouts at the fact that this course is just about the opposite of his own major. So there’s no chance he can see you more often, not unless he stalks you.

The elevator starts going up, and Takuma has to hold in a groan. He really, really just wants to get in his own bed tonight. It takes them up three floors for the girl’s stop. Once she’s out of the elevator, Takuma leans forwards to spam the first floor button a couple of times. It’s silent the rest of the way as the ancient elevator takes its time going down. 

“Think I’ve aged a couple years in here. Would’ve been faster to ride a tortoise down the stairs,” Takuma says, only slightly regretting the nonsense he spouts. 

But you laugh softly, and he thinks he’d do anything to hear it again and again. The elevator stops at the second floor, and you shift your stack of material. You give him a small smile and slight incline of your head as you step out of the elevator. 

There’s a moment where he pauses, like he’s trying not to overthink what he’s gonna do next. As the door starts to close, he sticks out his arm and steps out so that he can talk to you and maybe ask you out if he pulls together the confidence. He looks around the hallway of this floor, peeking into each of the windowed rooms and looking down different halls in hopes of spotting you. But it’s like you’ve disappeared into thin air, because he can’t find you at all. He deflates and decides to call it a loss before he starts to feel like a creep, taking the elevator back to the first floor so he can finally head back to his dorm where he’s supposed to be.

He knows he shouldn’t, but he returns to the library around the same time every day for the next two weeks, hoping that he’ll see you again. But he has no luck, and each night brings the same feeling of disappointment. He wants to kick himself for not just talking to you when he had the chance laid out so perfectly for him. He considers finding the building that your class is held in, but he has no idea what day or time you would be there. It makes him feel like too much of a pathetic loser, so he’s given up hope completely. 

Even Nanami had asked him about his change in mood over the last few weeks, and Takuma doesn’t want to admit to his advisor that he’s this much of a hopeless romantic. He blames his behavior on all of the Julia Roberts rom-coms he’s been binge watching lately. 

He must not be watching enough rom-coms, though. Because Takuma doesn’t think that he would be running you over with his skateboard if this was a rom-com.

But it happens as he’s skating in the grassy square on the main campus, on one of the cobbled pathways that connect the many class buildings that surround the square. He has his headphones on, so he doesn’t notice when you run perpendicular across his path all of a sudden. You don’t notice him either, because clearly you’re rushing somewhere. 

The two of you tumble onto the patch of grass beside the path at the impact. It takes a few moments for the both of you to sit up and separate your tangled mess of limbs. Immediately, you start apologizing at the same time. Takuma’s hand twitches as he thinks of helping you up, but you cross your legs and don’t look like you want to get up right away. So he folds his legs and just enjoys your presence.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I really should be better at looking where I’m going. Nanami tells me all the time I’ll knock someone over with how I skate, and it looks like he was right as always.”

You shake your head. “No, it was my fault, I shouldn’t have been running like that.”

Takuma’s heart stutters as he tries to work up the courage to ask you out. He should say something, because he might never get the chance again. But his mouth is embarrassingly dry right now.

It’s okay, because you fill the silence when he can’t. “You have Professor Nanami? Ugh, you’re lucky.”

Takuma perks up. Now this is a topic he’s good at. “Yeah, He’s the greatest! He’s been my mentor for a year now, and I’d be toast without him. There’s not a single professor that can come close to his level.”

“Sounds like you have a crush on him,” you tease. 

The tips of Takuma’s ears turn red at your words, and you laugh at the effect your words have on him. 

“It’s okay,” you assure him, “everyone has a crush on Professor Nanami. It would be weird if you didn’t.”

“Even you?” He regrets his words as soon as they’re out of his mouth, and he pulls his beanie over his head in hopes that the ground will mercifully swallow him up. 

But you just laugh and say, “Yeah, he is pretty attractive. But he’s not really my type.” 

Takuma nods absentmindedly, feeling a bit dejected. If Professor Nanami—who is the most attractive man ever in Takuma’s opinion—is not your type, then any chance he had with you is six feet under.

 “Oh,” he says, still stuck in his thoughts. 

When you don’t say anything, he looks up at you and his heart spikes when he finds you staring at him intently. You brush some stray strands of hair away from your face and tug your bottom lip into your mouth to chew on, almost…nervously? Takuma isn’t an idiot, and the realization of your words and your behavior hit him like a truck. 

“Oh! I–hah.” He feels like a blubbered, blushing mess, but you pout a little (so cute, he can’t help but think) and stand up shakily. 

You brush off dirt from your knees and say, “Well, anyways, sorry about that.”

Takuma’s brain starts working a second after, and he stares at you in horror when he realizes you think he’s rejected you. He reject you? It’s absurd, and yet he’s staring at your retreating form. 

He grabs his board off the ground and rushes after you. “Wait!” 

You turn to look at him. He pants and waves his hands around as he tries to explain. “I, uh, can I take you out for coffee? I sort of owe you after nearly mowing you down back there,” he tries to joke. 

But that adorable frown still graces your lips. “You don’t owe me anything, it’s fine. I should have looked where I was going.” 

Takuma would be banging his head against a wall if there was one nearby. He's never been smart with his words, and it’s biting him in the ass. “No, no, no. I–sorry, I’m really bad at this. Shit.” He rubs his hands over his face and lightly slaps his cheeks to reset himself. 

“I think you’re really pretty and I’ve been thinking about you, like, all week. I’ve even been going back to the library to see you and I thought I never would, but here you are! And I’m ruining it by being stupid. But–but I really do like you, and I’m not doing this ‘cause I have to, I just really, really want to see you again. I–oh, sorry.” 

He finally catches himself mid-ramble as you stare at him with an unreadable expression. “I ruined any chances I had with you, didn’t I?” He pouts and slumps a little, looking down at his scuffed Vans. 

You tilt your head sideways so that your face returns to his line of sight. “No, I think it’s adorable.” 

Takuma’s head peeks up hopefully. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. And I’d love to get coffee with you.”

Takuma grins and pumps his fist. “Sweet! I mean, yeah that’s–that’s cool. I’ll see you then?”

You laugh at the very terrible job he does of hiding his excitement. “Are you gonna ask for my number? So that we can make these plans of yours?”

Takuma tucks his head in embarrassment. “Uh, yeah. Here, I can put my number in your phone.”

You smile softly at Takuma when he does. “Text me?”

Takuma nods, paying attention only in part. He’s way too distracted by your smile and the way you look at him and the way you play with your phone. He’s distracted by just about everything about you. He rubs the back of his head and turns his head away slightly to alleviate his embarrassment.

You coo at the way he shows his embarrassment. “I have to get to class now, but I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

Takuma blinks slowly at your words. “Yeah, I’ll see you soon.”

He kind of just stands there even after you wave and continue on your way. He only blinks to attention when he gets a text notification on his phone. He thinks he blacks out when he sees your message.

i think you’re really pretty too :)

[sweetflanfiction]

Asymetrical Symphony - Part 9

Universe: Arcane (LOL)

Pairing: Viktor x reader

Summary: You had been on the rooftop with Jayce and the Herald and somehow you were sent to a place where things can be different with your help

Disclaimers and Warnings: If you want me to tag you on the chapters let me know! Also leave a comment with your thoughts :D Not finished, not proofread. English isn't my 1st language. All I know about LOL is from google and all I know about Arcane is taken from the show, so inacuracies will be plenty. I have a sort of idea on how to I'm gonna go with magic and runes, so bear with me. The reader will be written as GN (going by they/them) to get everyone involved, but if you see any discrepancies let me know.

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8

• ··········· • ············ •

You walked to the Academy's reception, grabbed a visitor’s badge, and made your way to the lab. The choice between waiting outside or unlocking the door and snooping around was easy to make.

It was silent in the school, still too early for the actual classes to begin. Only the birds and the staff could be heard from where you stood in front of a window, Piltover’s skyline starting to shine with the rising sun. Hate it or love it. Topside sure was beautiful in the morning.

You heard the door handle rattle and quickly moved somewhere you could watch whoever it was entering the lab. It was all fun and magic until you were arrested for trespassing... Again.

Viktor walked in, his eyes narrowing because of the light difference between the lab and the corridor. He was trying to balance a dusty old brown messenger bag on one shoulder, a stack of books and papers in the other, holding the cane, and opening the door. You spotted a square of what looked like a piece of bread embedded with jam in his mouth. Sweet tooth and with an actual appetite. What a difference a dimension makes…

You also noticed from your not-so-hidden hiding place that, although his breathing was labored, the endless cacophony of coughing he would be having after walking through the Academy with that amount of weight, in another universe, was absent.

It was endearing the way he slowly took off the bag first, making sure the strap didn’t dislodge his breakfast, smirking as he accomplished his little mission. Once the bag was secure on the coat hanger, he grabbed his walking aid and slowly made his way to the table, dropping the books carefully on it, toast still between his lips. 

Inspecting his work, he finally took a bite of the toast and nodded, walking back to the door to close it.

“Hello.” You said brightly. “Blue balls of Hextech!!!” He jumped, grabbing both his chest and the edge of a table for support, his cane falling to the ground with a clank. “It’s funny because it’s true.” You made your way towards him and grabbed the cane from the floor, giving it back to him with a smile.

He grabbed it hesitantly, looking around the room puzzled, back at the door, and then at you.

“How did you get in here? I locked the door when I left.” His brows frowned slightly, and his eyes unfocused, trying to find something in his mind. You could see his gears turning. 

“I opened up a teleportation portal in my room and just reappeared here…” His eyes widened, a mix of fear and enthusiasm. You snorted. “The door was unlocked.” “Oh…” The disappointment was palpable.

It was the truth, actually. You were going to unlock it through magical means, but when you touched the handle, the door just slid open. You had poked your head in and saw no one, so you made your way inside. 

“I am certain that I locked it yesterday when I left.” “Sky maybe?” You shrugged. “No, no. Sky only works in the afternoons.”

Both your eyes locked onto each other. But you had a feeling his reasons were different than yours. Sky was alive. The hex-core hadn’t consumed her. You shifted your gaze to his leg, his cane, and his two very pale hands. Very pale and human hands. Was the corruption non-existent or just hidden?

“How do you know about Sky?” He asked, revealing the reason he had looked up to you. “I crossed paths with her at some point.” You half lied, having crossed paths with his assistance, just not in this dimension. “Maybe Jayce was here.” You leaned your hip against the table and shrugged.

Viktor walked around the lab, inspecting the tables and the tools. Making sure nothing was out of order. He walked to another large door that you knew was the storage and pulled at the handles. Locked. 

That’s where the hex cores were kept.

You knew that the room you were standing in was just a workroom; everything here was, in a very roundabout way of putting it, junk. Expensive and very valuable junk, but not what the lab’s main bread and butter was. That was locked in another room that, if it was anything similar to your side, was a mess of failed projects, almost finished projects, and the case with hex cores inside.

“Yes…maybe…” He walked back towards the table and stood in front of you, on the opposite side. “Please don't enter the lab when no one is around.”

His tone dropped, showing his seriousness, and you nodded. Even if it hurt, given your previous experience, it made sense. You were a stranger to him, and although you both seemed to get along well enough, you were still an unknown to him. You were sure that if you asked, he would probably show you the room, but that didn’t mean he’d allow you to be there unsupervised.

“Sorry.” 

‘I’m still getting used to not knowing you,’ you wanted to add but didn’t.

“No harm done. I’ll warn Jayce not to leave the door unlocked… again…

Viktor hooked the handle of his cane on the table and sat down with difficulty, a grimace on his face as he shifted his weight to the hand on the table and then almost plopped down on a stool.

“Your back?” You asked, sitting down in front of him at the table, and nodded. “Sometimes it gets worse, but… such is life… all pains and aches.” He gave you a crooked smile and bit his toast. “Should we start?” “Do you want me to show you the runes? The magic? What?”

He grabbed his brand-new notebook from the pile of books on the table and opened it. It was already filled a couple of pages in, his neat handwriting contrasting with the ivory pages. When he looked up at you, you could feel the enthusiasm coming in waves from his amber eyes—the eagerness to find something new.

“I thought we could start with a couple of questions…” He grabbed a discarded pen that was on the table and looked at you. “That way I can compare notes in the future, and we will get to know each other better.”

It was one thing knowing and acknowledging this; it was another thing when he spoke it out loud. But despite the little tear in your heart, you nodded.

“When did you find out you could do it?” He asked, eyes shifting to the page. “When I arrived at Piltover.” ‘The second time around that is…’ you added in your head. “When was that?” “A few weeks ago.” “Mm…Could you be more specific?” He looked up. “The night of the rocket attack.” “Ah…” He looked down. "How do you do it? The magic that is.” “Hmm, I write the rune. I set a purpose for it and push it forward.” “Fascinating.” He wrote it down.

You opened your mouth to say something, and he looked up immediately, probably hearing the small intake of air in the otherwise silent room.

“Yes?” “Hum…” You looked at your hands on the table. “I know that face." He placed the pen down and raised an eyebrow. "What face?" "I do feel the need to remind you..." He tapped the notebook with his finger. "You did agree to be truthful.” “They are becoming easier to use." You sighed, "Which I understand is normal because of usage, but now it doesn’t need a specific prompt; it just…knows…”

Viktor frowns, crossing his arms on the table and leaning into them.

“Example…” he asked, and you got up from your stool.

Without much thought, you walked to his bag, grabbed the keys to the lab that he kept in a little side pocket, and locked the lab. You looked at him and turned the handle, showing him the door was in fact locked. He narrowed his eyes for a moment but nodded. You moved back to the table, grabbed a white paper, and drew the rune.

“This is the unlocking rune…don’t judge the naming…I’ve been making them as I go.” “No judgment here…According to Jayce, I am, and I quote, ‘excruciatingly bad at naming anything', to the point he is scared of any child I might have in the future.”

That was adorable. Another difference between your Viktor and this one… the naming was usually left to Viktor, seeing as the only good name Jayce had ever come up with was ‘Hextech,’ and after that… everything had to have a Hex before it. Hexgate, hex-core, hex-hammer. At some point, the Atlas Gauntlets were to be named HexGauntlets. Branding he had said, eliciting an eye roll from Viktor and you and a threat to recall any funding from the Rainemours.

“I’ve seen it do two things: unlocking things and showing me other runes.”

You drew another rune. This was the most familiar.

“This one is the move rune.” You looked at him to see if he was in fact judging you, but he was gazing at the runes.

“Ah! We’ve seen this one in the hex core.” He said excitedly.

“That would make sense. It’s the starting point of a breeze or gust of air that moves things away from it.” You took a deep breath. It felt good to talk about this. “In the beginning, both had very...broad...results. This…” You pointed to the unlock rune. “Would open anything locked in my vicinity, and this... it would just work in a straight cone-like formation perpendicular to me.”

You opened and stretched your arms to make a small V shape with them in front of you, showing Viktor what you meant. He noted something in his notebook and rolled his pen to push you to continue.

“Now…” You touched the rune with your gloved hand, the paper’s corner shook, and in a second, the front door clicked. Viktor’s head snapped to it and then back to you. “And…”

You touched the other rune, and one of the pages of his notebook flipped over. His head snapped again from the door to the papers.

“They’re reading my mind or something. I don’t know…” a beat. “So?”

No response. “Viktor?” You called him softly.

He was staring, unblinking, at both used runes in front of him, his long fingers touching the papers.

“Vik?” You went to pull a strand of hair out of his forehead, a normal gesture between you and him, but before your hand could reach him, he looked up at you, and you stopped the movement.

If anyone asked you what wonder looked like, you’d describe Viktor’s expression right now. His eyes were bright, almost made of liquid gold, high cheekbones painted a soft, healthy pink, and his mouth curved crookedly upwards. His index finger taps on the papers.

“That was magic. Actual magic.” He told you, his voice cracking with excitement. “Hmm, yeah…” “No hextech needed.” His eyes shifted and his brows twitched, and now the gears were turning. “Magic…one person…with no hextech…” “Alright...You need to breathe, buddy...” you noticed when you saw his chest rising and falling erratically. His damaged lungs won’t enjoy this exercise. “It’s not the first time you saw magic.”

“It is the first time I see it from beginning to end... With hextech, you need to calculate fluctuation, get the frequency just right, and have a million tiny pieces work together… but this… this is… I’m dizzy.” “You’re hyperventilating…” You place a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Do you have your medicine with you?” “No…My inhaler is at home. It’s alright…” And took several deep breaths, placing a hand on his lower back. The movement of deep breathing clearly took a toll on his back.

Your Viktor at this point would have probably fainted, but this Viktor seemed overwhelmed, breathing with a little wheezing, but his eyes were bright and his expression painless. Ecstatic even. 

“Alright.” You slid your hand to his forearm and squeezed.

“Alright…” he wheezed, calmer, grabbing his notebook. “I don’t think my body can handle any more excitement right now.”

Smiling, you nodded at him and sat down, scrunching the paper with the runes in your hand.

“Oh... and... they are not reading your mind. They are, simply put, you.” He grinned, like someone with a secret he was about to share, and you raised your eyebrows. “According to some, the runes are just another language in Runeterra. That means that you are basically learning to speak.”

“I thought they were external to me…like the world was making the magic go through me…or something. Like a prism. Light comes in and a rainbow comes out.”

He shook his head, rolled his chair towards the stack of books he had brought, and rolled back towards you, quickly searching the texts for something. A little ah escaped when he found the text.

“Magic comes from an individual's ability to speak the runes, and once spoken, they become intrinsically assimilated by the rune speaker.” He looked up from the book.

“Like playing an instrument.” You grinned. “Once you know which note to hit, you naturally know that every time you hit it, it’ll have the same result.” Viktor nodded enthusiastically. 

“Yes! The more you play a note, the easier it becomes to strike the chord, and…the easier it is to put it in a melody…”

The morning was spent with him asking you questions and you simply answering without much trouble. It was nice to know that Viktor from this side was just as curious and perceptive as your own. It was obvious he knew about runes; he used them for hextech, but he was still flipping at the thought of having you there with the ability to… conjure them…

Nearing midday, someone opened the door, and both of you jumped as Jayce walked in. You stopped the sketch of the rune you couldn’t make work, and Viktor, who was fully leaning into the table and putting his weight on his elbows, snapped his head to the door.

“Jayce!” He squeaked, startled. “Viktor?” The Tallis man stood, hand on the door handle, looking at both of you. “Jayce.” You managed to say it with a more neutral tone.

He said your name with the same tone he used for Viktor. He closed the door, and Viktor took the second he had his back turned to snatch the rune sheet and shove it in the middle of the pages of his notebook.

“I wasn’t aware you would be stopping by today.” Viktor limped towards his friend, and you stood straight, hands behind your back, trying to hide the very obvious, very unnatural, and very illegal glowing blue hand.

“I wasn’t, but…ugh…we—we need to talk.” He turned to Viktor and then you. He had a very grave and urgent expression. “They found... would you mind? This is Hextech business.”

He turned to you, and you shook your head, clearing your thoughts and restarting your brain. 

“Yes! Of course. Sorry.” You turned to Viktor, whose eyes had narrowed slightly. “I…I’ll tell Mother the commission is coming along just fine.”

“Yes, please do.” You blinked and looked back at you, nodding.

“It was great to see you, Jay-Councillor Tallis.” You started to make your way to the door when Viktor called out your name, and you turned. “Don’t forget this.” He slid his notebook towards you. “I’m sure your mother's notes will be safer with you.” “Ugh… Yes… Goodbye…”

You hurried back out, nodding back at Jayce. The grave look on his face was enough to get your brain thinking about what was so important he couldn't let you know. But then again, much like Viktor, he didn't know you.

• ············ • ············ •

@marshy-moo @victormydarling @blueesmiski @th3stup1dcat @22carolina08 @httpstes @that-one-shitty-blog @disa-pointment @sseleniaa @moons-lighttrail @aysluxe @fae-doodle @kitewa @local-mr-frog @bakusquadobsessed @cherry-cola-100 @optimistic-but-very-realistic @seeksrsnn @thecordelialetters @notsaelty @lansy-4 @ayupfrogg @sammypotato @wnbrw @lucycarlisleswife @noxturnalmoth

[caesium-55]

—seven days. [ iii ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: hi hello welcome to part three. i flunked the quiz. lemme know what you think. NOT BETA READ. NOT EDITED. this chapter kinda sux. can't believe i went through a breakup just last week and i still cant write decent post-breakup scenes.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab hope i didn't forget anyone.

masterlist.

you: *sent a link*

him: ?

him: what's this

you: benefits of crying

you: read it it's enlightening

him: some people do not cry over a breakup you know and that is totally okay

you: why crying helps.

you: 1. tears release toxins, stress hormones to be specific. it is good to let all the bad energy out.

you: 2. it aids sleep. no need for further explanation.

you: 3. crying releases oxytocin and endorphins. i know you don't know what an oxytocin or an endorphin is but they're happy chemicals.

you: 4. crying helps you receive the support you need from the people around you. EMOTIONAL VULNERABILITY is okay, max. stop treating it like an STD.

him: it feels like an std

you: pussy

you: emotional vulnerability is a thing and it's normal so stop trying to be a big strong man when you're barely holding it together.

you: you may look fine now but i know you

him: please stop

you: no

you: 5. crying has a self soothing effect. very nice actually. it activates the rest and digest system.

him: what even is that

you: the parasympathetic nervous system

him: ??

you: this is why you shouldn't have dropped out of high school

you: education is important yknow

you: youre already lacking in three forms of intelligence, academic, emotional n social intelligence

him: fuck you im smart

you: fuck you 2 and yeah you're smart but only in geography

you: you probably can't do your taxes

him: im dutch so the company's account department do it for me by default

him: the american system is just weird

you: cant argue w/ u there

you: also, 6. crying helps restore emotional balance

you: see? you need that

you: yknow now that i think abt it you should consider seeking therapy

him: what makes you think i’m not in therapy right now

you: well have you considered getting MORE therapy?

You stand in front of the body mirror, holding the Red Bull polo shirt against your body to see how it looks on you for one last time. On your right sleeve, the word MANAGER is written in bold, white text. Because that was what you were. Just a manager.

In another universe this is not the shirt that you’d be wearing. The MANAGER would have been ENGINEER. In another another universe where your family has been well-off enough to continuously send you to karting school and you would have been the one driving the fucking car by now.

You know, if Max has even tried talking to Horner and suggested that you should be moved into the engineering team, then you wouldn't be stuck wearing this god-awful polo that burned your skin every time you wore it for work. Everybody reduced you as Max’s American manager and because you are American, most of them kind of just assumed that you're dumb, you know?

Does the world even know how smart you are? That you graduated top of your class, got the best thesis award, and that you had finished your masters just this year? Did they even know that a Japanese car company wanted you on their research team? That a NASCAR team wanted you on board as one of their engineers? Does Max even know?

Fuck no. He only knows that you're the best at ironing clothes and organizing his Google calendar and memorizing his entire coffee order by heart. He knew you're good at extinguishing kitchen fires and kicking ass in YSL Opyum heels. You doubt he knows that you can do Calculus in your sleep.

You can take it if the world puts you down for your appearance. But if the world puts you down because of your intellect? That's a different story. You'll take any insult to the face but not to your intelligence.

You have four days left in Monaco so you have begun packing already. You're right, everything did fit into three suitcases. Also, you haven't told Max yet. For some reason, you’re too anxious. Which is shocking to say the least because you never ever gets anxious when it came to Max Verstappen. You wouldn't have lasted this long working alongside Max if you were a pussy.

Max Max Max Super Max Max—

“[Name] here. Need anythin’, champ?”

Hearing a sob on the other end of the line immediately activates your fight or flight response. Your eyes widen and you toss the Red Bull shirt aside. Your legs leads you to the nearly empty shoe rack stationed beside the front door, grabbing the pair of shoes at the very top of the tiny shelf and throwing them on.

“I’m comin’ there. Hang on, Max. You wait for me, okay?”

He doesn't answer, just continuing to sob and the sound absolutely breaks your heart.

You run to his penthouse at a speed that will even put the RB19 to shame. Not even bothering to knock, you barge in and yell his name in the empty halls of his penthouse. You search in the kitchen. He's not there. The living room. Not there either. The room where his simulations are. Not there. You run to his bedroom upstairs.

The door is locked. Dammit. Panic overflooded your system.

“Max, sweetheart, you there?”

No answer, but you can hear a faint sound behind the door if you press your ear against the wood. Firefighter training covered how to open a fucking door when it was locked so this once again becomes a situation where you're grateful that you did that tiring and borderline suicidal volunteer work.

Max keeps a fire extinguisher inside his penthouse as per your advice. There is one stationed in almost every room inside his house. You knew there is one inside his room and another one just at the end of the hallway. You make a quick run for it and once you have the extinguisher in your hands, you run back to his door.

“Step away from the door!” you instructed while your mind mentally calculates your payment plan as you hit the door knob with so much force, the walls tremble at your strength. You're functioning on pure adrenaline. Your instincts only yell one thing and that is: go to Max. No one and nothing in this world will keep you from him. It isn't long until his bedroom door broke down. With one last final kick, it crumbles down from its hinges and you forcefully pry it open and sprint inside.

Max tucks himself in the tiny space in the corner of his huge bedroom, his knees shoved up to his chest. A 181-cm tall man trying to make himself as small as possible.

This is it. This is the bottled-up emotions he's been storing since Abu Dhabi. You cannot say you have not anticipated this. Max is bound to explode sooner or later.

Panic attacks have made a home in Max’s body since he was a child. That's what one gets when they’re parented by someone like Jos Verstappen. He killed Max’s soul and made the boy a machine and for what? To shape a child into a man, a racer that he wanted to be but failed to become at the cost of Max's mental health and childhood.

When Max looks up with that heartbreaking look on his face, you almost crumble. Almost, because you cannot crumble. Not when Max needs you.

Sometimes, you forget what it took for Max to become the champion that he is today. A childhood sacrificed for his dominance on the tracks. A whole lot of hatred from the people to become a WDC. And now, a love lost for his third consecutive championship.

“You came,” his voice cracks towards the end.

Your eyes soften, “You called, Max. Course I’ll come.”

You barely brace yourself for the impact that is Max’s body wrapping around yours in a tight hug. The man have literally launch himself from the floor to you at sixth gear speed. You stumble backwards slightly, holding his bed for support so the both of you won't fall down.

“Max—”

“No,” he whispers and his grip on your tightens as if he's afraid that you’ll slip away if he even tried to give your lungs space to breathe. “Don't speak. Stay.”

What Max wanted, what Max would get. So you shut your mouth, shuffle slightly so he'll be in a more comfortable position and allow him take whatever he wants from you. This will be the last chance he’ll ever do it anyway because in four days time, you’re flying to Texas.

You stay for what is probably hours in that position. Crumbled together on the floor, leaning against the side of Max’s king-sized bed. Your shirt is completely damp from his tears but you cannot even bring yourself to care about it.

“Your shoes…” It's the first time Max has spoken since the start of his meltdown.

“Hm?” you turn your head and your nose nuzzles against his hair, making you scrunch it up a little. His hair is tickling your nostrils. If you lean a little forward, your lips will meet the skin of his temple.

“They’re mismatched.”

Brows furrowed, your eyes move to your feet and see that Max is right. Your shoes are indeed mismatched. On your left is one of your Adidas slides and the other is your slip-on Skechers. You ran from one building to another in mismatched shoes. Fucking embarassing.

“Ignore them.”

Silence.

“You good now?”

“No.”

“Okay,” you say. “If you want to talk, I’ll listen.”

You hear Max let out a shaky breath, “Just stay for a while. Don't leave me alone.”

“Okay.”

Eventually, you manage to talk Max out of the hug. You're beginning to feel claustrophobic but you do not want to say it out right so you try to negotiate instead. That's how you and Max found yourselves inside his kitchen again. You're trying to replicate your Abuela's cheesecake, which she was known for back in Austin, and Max is…well, he's Max and he’s trying to be helpful in any way he can. If it's some other day, you'd have shoved him out of the way because you prefer working alone in the kitchen. Having eyes on you gives you anxiety. But given today’s circumstances, you do not have the heart to make Max leave so you task him with doing the little stuff like mixing things and throwing shit to the trash can nearby. And he does so splendidly.

“Thank you, by the way.”

“For what, baby?” You internally wince at your own slip of the tongue. Damn that habit of yours of calling people with affectionate call signs. Thankfully, Max seems to have not noticed it.

“For coming here.”

You shrug.

“I only did what you did for me in 2021.”

Again, your breakup with Leo was bad bad. You spent a month crying for a love lost and Max was there for you. For the most part, at least. You want him to focus on winning and winning alone that you pushed him away a lot of times but you appreciated how he was more obedient to your commands, that he held his tongue so he wouldn't piss you off even though he was not liking your words, and that he was considerate of you.

“I hope you won't go into fights though,” you chuckle. “Like I did after my breakup.”

He smiles, shaking his head lightly and you know he's recalling the memory. 2021 is a hilarious year for you, the Red Bull manager. You went viral after getting into a cat fight with a girl and a whole fist fight with her boyfriend.

You and Leo called it quits a week before Monaco and even though it had been four races since then, your heart was still in a quite fragile state at that specific race weekend. One minor inconvenience was enough to ignite a wild blaze of fire within you and nobody could extinguish the flames.

After Silverstone FP1, you were leading Max to the cool down room to brief him with Horner’s relayed instructions and someone had thrown a glass bottle towards the both of you while walking. Originally, Max was the main target of the bottle but you happened to have moved towards the line of trajectory and the bottle landed on your temple, hard enough that you stumbled upon impact.

You barely heard Max’s shocked gasp and shout of panic over the sound of glass shattering on your foot because the only thing you could register was the terrifying feeling of a thick liquid trickling down the side of your face and you didn't even need to see it to know it was blood.

The only thing you saw was red and it was on fucking sight.

Fucking Hamilton fan. Fucking Hamilton. He’s in Max’s way. He’s in your way. He’s the wall that was dividing you from your dream position in the engineering team.

You shoved the iPad you were holding to Max’s hands and marched down to the woman wearing the Merc #44 merch, swiftly jumping over the barricade and grabbing her by the collar of her pristine white Versace top.

The events that followed were too fast. You grabbed her collar. She pulled your hair. You also pulled her hair. Someone pulled her away from you. You tried to grab her, clawing her bare arms with your manicured nails. She screamed. You screamed back. You pulled out some curse words in Spanish as well because cursing her in one language alone is not enough. Her boyfriend appeared. A quick punch to your cheek. You fell to the ground.

The world stood still. There was a sting on your palm because your skin got torn from the hard surface of the concrete ground. You let a bloodcurdling war cry and your Dad would definitely be disappointed at you for using the boxing techniques he taught you for self defense purposes only to fight a guy two times your size.

Everything was a bigger blur from there. But you did remember the sensation of Max’s strong arms around you, stopping you from lunging forward again. He was saying sweet words to your ear to calm you down but your brain failed to intercept them so you could hear the words, could hear his voice, but not understand any of it. You remember Christian Horner's disappointed face that haunted you even two years later. You remembered feeling so terrified as you sat outside Christian Horner’s office waiting for the final verdict while he and Max and a few of the Red Bull higher-ups argued about your future with the team. You remembered hearing Max’s loud snarl on the other side of the mahogany door: “Did you see her face?! There was blood everywhere! On her nose, on her mouth, on the fucking side of her head!” You remembered the girl taking the case to court. You remembered fearing that you’d be sent to jail. You remembered that she lost the case because it was ruled as self defense and your injuries were grave. You remembered discovering that it was Max who used all his power and got the best lawyer to fight your case. You remembered the atmosphere in the Red Bull garage shifting when you entered it a few weeks later and everyone stared the bandages and bruises. Everyone thought one thing: of course, it would also take a monster to manage a monster like Max Verstappen. You remembered Lewis Hamilton, seven-time world champion, apologizing personally for the fight caused by his own fan. He didn't need to but he was so sincere with it that you cried when he handed you the apology flowers. God, how could you even hate this man? Your anger towards him was misplaced.

You’d been living with the guilt ever since, that you were horrifyingly violent for a day, that you were capable of killing for a day. And it could happen again. One day. God, you hoped you wouldn't have to see that day. You knew all your coworkers have been careful with angering you ever since. They're terrified of you even. Max should be, too. But then again, why would he when he already saw the horrors done by his father’s hands ever since he was a child? He was used to it.

“I won't,” he says, smiling at you. “I wouldn't want to add anymore problems for you to clean up.”

But you will not be the one cleaning it up because you resigned. You didn’t tell that to him though. Not right now. He just had a meltdown over Kelly leaving him and the news of his manager leaving him too will destroy him.

The cheesecake is a little burnt when you take it out of the oven but it actually adds more flavor to it so yeah, that's a win.

“We should drink,” you suggest.

“It’s mid-afternoon.”

“We drank at mid-afternoon yesterday,” you give him a blank stare. “With Alex and Charles, remember?”

He doesn't say anything as you make your way to his fridge and pull out two bottles of beer. Max has champagne stored somewhere but you have enough of those expensive champagnes. You need beer. Beer is good. Beer is nice. You're a beer type of person and it is time Max becomes one, too.

“I’m no scientist,” you begin, biting off the beer’s bottle cap. “But according to chemistry, alcohol is solution.”

Well, technically, edible alcohol or ethanol is not a mixture. Rather, it's a pure substance that happens to be a liquid at room temperature and typical atmospheric pressure. Pure ethanol is not a solution. Hard spirits though? That's a solution.

Beer is not a hard spirit. It's more of a fermented drink. But Max doesn't know that, though, so you don't bother explaining the science behind it.

Somewhere down the road, the two of you move to his living room. You use the Youtube app in his TV to search karaoke video and have the bestest time of your lives. You're screaming along some Daddy Yankee and El Alfa songs and Max doesn't know how to speak Spanish so he’s just vibing to it.

At 5 PM, you pull out Max’s expensive vodka bottle. Now this is the real shit. The ten bottles of beer? Those are just pregame. Max is already drunk with just those because he’s a pussy but you’re no pussy, so the only right answer is vodka! Viva la vodka or whatever.

Your throat gets tired of singing and Max gets tired from dancing, too, so you both decide to just go entertain yourselves in other ways. First, you introduced Max to beer-pong. He loses, of course. He sucks at everything not racing. Then, the two of you move onto chess. Max gives up mid-game. He cannot understand the rules. Then, lastly, you move to the billiard table Max owned. He only used it when the other guys are over and you do not even know why he bought it when he sucked at playing billiards.

“You know what Kelly said the morning before the race?” Max suddenly says and you look up at him, brow raising slightly. He’s drunk; his skin is flushed and he is all giggly and smile-y as he sits on the billiard table’s side rail and using the billiard stick as some sort of support stand to keep him from falling. You hope he won't accidentally poke himself. You're no better, too. Ten beer bottles and a few glasses of vodka. But you’re not as drunk as Max, and you still have a straight vision and you can still sink the colored balls into the pockets of the billiard table.

“Hm?”

“That it was unfair for her.”

You raise a questioning brow, “Why?”

“I bought shoes and they don't fit her.”

You blink. He laughs at himself as if he has uttered the funniest joke in the world.

“Three years of relationship gone because of a single pair of shoes,” he continues. “She wanted those shoes, too.”

Kelly….what the fuck?

“But that's okay. She….She made me open my eyes, you know? She made me realize what I truly love.”

“Racing.” It's not even a question. It's the truth.

Max stares at you, long and hard, and you look away first because you fear that if you allow yourself to stare too long, you’ll drown in those beautiful blues. This is enough heartache for the day. No need to add more.

“Hey [Name],” he begins. “If I asked you to kiss me, would you do it?”

[awrkive]

Fluff/1/jungkook (preferably tlp but im fine with any!!!!!)

Also the no nb requests, I let out a giggle 😭😭

1. "Holy shit, that's the cutest thing you've ever done. Do it again."

note: set in the tlp universe during med school days! theyre freshmen here. also just super weird tlp couple dynamics 😭

wc: 0.6k

Jungkook’s always been… whatever to you. He’s good-looking, you guess – conventionally, you mean. Not your type – though, you don’t exactly have a type – but he has a face that both women and men definitely crush on. It’s weird because he could have both soft and sharp features at the same time. Sometimes, he kind of looks broody – unapproachable and sort of cold. Some other times he’s like a round ball. 

But most of the time he’s just annoying to you. He whines when he isn’t given attention, and he could be such a big baby you wonder if his muscly body is just a facade or something. 

“Jungkook.” 

“Yes.” 

“Can you not?” 

He looks at you like a deer caught in the headlights, hand pausing mid-air; a strand of your hair is pinched in between his pointer and middle finger, the ends pointing to your ear. He’s been doing that for the past ten minutes and you’ve been complaining that “It tickles!” but he wouldn’t stop, not when—

“I’m not stopping until you give me attention.” 

You groan, flipping your textbook onto the next page. You’re lost, to be honest, and it’s all Jungkook’s fault. He wouldn’t leave you alone and thank god he has class in the next thirty minutes because you swear to god, you’re gonna unleash hell on him if he doesn’t stop. 

“Why are you not talking to me? What did I do?” Jungkook says, and this time he lets go of your hair, but what he does next is fold his arms on the table, lay there then try and peek at your face. 

“You didn’t do anything.” You respond, plain and simple. Literally true. He genuinely hasn't done anything wrong. He's just so... talkative sometimes and while you can keep up with that usually, today is just one of those days.

And Jungkook being Jungkook, he thinks it has to do with him. Eyeroll-inducing, really, but you've come to know that's just him.

His ass is hauling most of the space of the 7/11 seat and at this point, you’re better off transferring tables than to deal with his dramatic antics, but you also feel kind of bad because Jungkook is taking this way too seriously. 

“Liar.” Jungkook murmurs. Then he turns to his ice cream that’s already melted. He takes the spoon and begins to eat again. “Fine, then.” 

You’re happy for a while when he finally stops trying to talk to you. 

To be honest, you just want to sneak a little bit of study time. That’s how you expected to spend your break but Jungkook decided to come along and now the words are dancing in your eyes and you can’t focus.

Especially not right now, when Jungkook eventually grows uncharacteristically quiet beside you. 

As you sneak a glance at him, he looks so… sad. 

“Hey,” you nudge at his bicep. Jungkook looks at you, the small spoon halfway in his mouth. His brows are arched and he looks kinda... cute with his google eyes. “Why are you so quiet?” 

Then he does it. 

He purses his lips, puts down the spoon, and then rolls his eyes. 

You cackle. 

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” You say in disbelief, not quite getting over the fact that he did just roll his eyes at you and… it was the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen today. 

“No.” he huffs indignantly, and you swear you can’t help but giggle more. 

“Holy shit, that was the cutest thing you've ever done,” you scoot closer to him and suppress another wave of laughter when his eyebrows meet in confusion. “Do it again.” 

“Are you making fun of me?” Jungkook pointedly asks. 

And he’s so… sassy. 

“Jungkook, don’t make me laugh,” you lean towards his arm because you genuinely could not get the picture of him rolling his eyes at you out of your head. Why did he have to look adorable rolling his eyes?! 

“You’re weird.” Jungkook says and pokes your cheek with his finger. 

You swat at his hand and peel your head away from his arm. “You’re weird.” You say in between your contained laughter.

“Whatever.” 

You laugh again and Jungkook grumbles as he tells you he’s gonna get some sandwich before standing up.

You shake your head with a smile on your face as you flip open the textbook again. 

[delewlew]

i'll kick your ass, verstappen: max verstappen x black fem! reader

request: HEYYYYYYY could you do a max x fem reader when he gets jealous really bad over one of your male friends please. Love your stories keep going 🤍🤍

warnings: jealousy, slight swearing, google translated dutch

author's note: i hope you like this, i lowkey fried my brain trying to make sure i was confident enough to post this...still trying to convince myself. also the title isn't as cute cuz my gradient thingie wasn't working so it'll be plain...sorry bout that. as always, reblogs and comments are always appreciated as well <3

you were in second grade when you met your best friend, nikolaas, after he moved to your school. you were assigned to be his class buddy to help him get comfortable at the new school. the two of you attended the same school all the up to university so you weren't ever really apart from one another. the two of you learned to swim and ride bikes together as little kids. he was there when you went on your first date with the cute guy in your calculus class at the ice rink near your home, and he was there to take you to the hospital when you broke your ankle right after. you were there to help him learn to slow dance before he went to his first formal dance with a girl that wasn't you. he was there to teach you how to walk in that pair of So Kate's you bought without realizing maybe there was a reason nobody but zendaya dared to wear those godforsaken heels. you were there to coach him through confessing his feelings to his first boyfriend. the two of you had experienced so much of your lives beside one another that your relationship wasn't shaken when it was time to move away from home. years passed and he was a professional model travelling the world while you were working as an architect, living in monaco.

since living in monaco you'd been promoted, moved to a nicer apartment, completed a huge project with your team, and met your boyfriend. you met max at an event you'd been invited to courtesy of your own personal connections. from the moment he laid eyes on you, he knew you there was something different about you from other women he's met in the past. that night, you both exchanged numbers and he'd convinced you to go on a date with him shortly after.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

for the first time since you'd moved to monaco, your best friend had finally been able to take time to come visit you. he'd flown in two days ago and was staying at your apartment for a bit longer before flying out to korea for some event he was invited to. you sat on your bed and he sat across from you painting a fresh coat of nail polish over his nails since the ocean water chipped it off earlier today. his hand shook slightly as he painted his fingers and your voice cut through the silence, "nikko i swear to god if you get black nail polish on my bed i'll kill you." he looked up through his long, thick, black eyelashes and muttered, "je bent letterlijk de meest dramatische persoon die ik ooit heb ontmoet." you rolled your eyes and huffed, "whatever you love me and you know it." he cracked a smile through the focused glare he held while looking at his fingers, "yeah yeah...speaking of love, how's your man?" [you're literally the most dramatic person i've ever met]

you smiled at the thought of max and answered, "he's really good. the season has treated him well for the most part and he's happy with how things are. we're going back home for his next race so i'm excited i'll be able to see both of our families, and i'm gonna try to stop by your place to see your mom if she's there." he shook his head while keeping his eyes on his nails, "m'ma is in suriname until september because she's visiting granm'ma and granp'pa." your frowned and asked, "were you supposed to go home with her?" nikko nodded and shrugged, "it's alright though, i think i'll be able to make it down there for christmas so it's fine. plus you can see her in september when she comes back." a smile tugged on his lips and he continued, "that is if you want to come see me walk at new york, paris, milan, or london fashion week this year." you nearly tackled him into a hug and screeched, "NO FUCKING WAY- NIKKO?! YOU BOOKED ALL FOUR?!" he laughed and wrapped his arm around you in a hug, "yup i'm booked and busy this year!"

you immediately promised, "i'm going to be at every single show." your best friend nodded, "already reserved your tickets for everything." there was a beat of silence before he asked, "wait isn't max still racing in september- i don't want to make you miss those especially because you missed miami for the met gala with me." this was true, you'd flown to new york city to be nikko's plus one for the met gala but max told you he didn't mind and was happy you were going. without a second thought, only thinking of how exciting this was for your best friend, you waved off his worry, "it'll be fine. besides max likes you."

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

"i don't fucking like this guy." max huffed as he scrolled though his instagram because you posted something. he looked at his screen and clenched his jaw seeing the post you'd made with your best friend.

therealyn

liked by nikko, maxverstappen1, and 643,943 others

therealyn baby's first time in monaco <3

read all 5,423 comments

nikko i wish i could stay longer :(

⤷ therealyn don't forget me when ur famous

sza cuties

⤷ therealyn omg i love you

username1 why is he so close?

⤷ username2 they've been friends since they were 7 and nikko moved to the netherlands from suriname. y/n was his first friend and they've grown up together. don't try to start something out of nothing.

⤷ username3 GET EM SIS

⤷ username4 ngl i kinda see what username1 means...if you look back at some other posts they've made with each other they're way closer than i'd consider to be best friends. i mean i personally wouldn't be that close with my guy bsf knowing i have a man.

⤷ username4 that man is a walking pride flag be so fr rn

⤷ username1 im just saying he's a little close to her. plus she's already missed a race so she can go see him, and i guarantee you she'll do the same again when fashion week comes around.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

reading the comments didn't ease max's mind whatsoever but he did catch a few that did make him realize that maybe you were just being a supportive best friend. he'd had friends go to things to support him in the past and he's done the same for them so why does he feel so...weird when you do the same? he'd managed brush off the feelings he had until he checked your story and clicked on the post you'd shared:

nikko

liked by therealyn, gucci, and 1,235,099 others

nikko but none of them will ever love you the way i do it's me and you

view all 10,302 comments

therealyn and as the years go by our friendship will never die

kendalljenner beauties

username6 ...why is he holding her like that.

⤷ username7 i think they're together? i always saw their posts together and assumed

⤷ username8 NO THEY'RE NOT TOGETHER THEY'RE BEST FRIENDS PLS DON'T START RUMORS SHE IS DATING MAX VERSTAPPEN

username9 this look a little....

username10 yall are so weird. literally every interaction nikko has with a girl looks like this, look it up and you'll see he's holding everyone's hand, wrapping their arms around them. it's just how he is pipe down.

username11 THE CAPTION? NIKOLAAS UR BOLD FOR THAT ONE

username12 ngl i kinda wanna see them as a couple

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

max fought to control his facial expressions when you called him excited to tell him about going to support nikko at the big 4 fashion weeks. he watched as your eyes sparkled, "he's already reserved the seat in my name at all of his shows too! this is so great he's always wanted to walk in these shows and now he's got the chance. i want september to already be here." max frowned at the mention of the month, "schat- i'm still racing in september though?" you explained, "well yeah it's just singapore and azerbaijan that i'll have to miss but i'll be at the rest." max bit the inside of his cheek, "didn't you already see him walk in new york back in may? you missed miami for it remember?" you smiled, "babe that was the met gala, that was different. this is actual fashion shows not a red carpet."

when max was still silent you asked, "why don't you seem happy doe nikko?" he took a small exhale to not raise his voice or seem too annoyed, "it's good for the guy i mean this is a big deal as a model. i just...sometimes i think he's just a little too close?" you frowned and you asked, "what do you mean? you've never had a problem with him before?" max sighed and admitted, "i'm just saying there's no reason why other people should be questioning our relationship status when you're with other people. why is he holding you like i hold you?" you couldn't even find the right words for a moment, "i- i- he....max you've seen the way he acts around everyone. he's a touchy guy and he always has been. why are you now bothered that he holds me? it's nothing new."

max let out another annoyed huff and snapped, "just tell him to watch himself." you couldn't even say anything before he hung up the phone on you and left you stunned to a silence. just then your phone pinged and it was another instagram notification:

nikko just posted a story!

there wasn't even a point in trying to ask nikolaas to delete the story because he was on a flight to korea right now which means he just posted it before the plane took off. so all you had to do was hope maybe max wouldn't see it because although you had no issue with the photo, you knew right now your boyfriend would.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

the instagram story made it's way to his eyes in less than 5 minutes after it was posted. so, max didn't hesitate to open his own photo gallery and select a few pictures before posting them himself, he pasted a caption from the ones you'd saved in his notes and posted it before turning off his phone.

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, f1wags, and 649,779 others

maxverstappen1 mijn

view all 3,402 comments

therealyn answer your phone

username13 HE'S MAD HE SEEN THE POSTS

username14 max....

charles_leclerc mate, you posted on your main

⤷ maxverstappen1 i know.

⤷ charlesleclerc oh!

oscarpiastri i feel like i wasn't supposed to see some of these

⤷alex_albon i don't think any of us were...

⤷ therealyn you werent.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

hot tears stung the corners of your eyes as you stared at your phone knowing full well why max posted the photos he did. you knew that he got jealous every now and again but he'd never done anything like this, especially when it came to nikolaas because he knew how close he was to you. max wasn't answering your phone calls or text messages so you had no way to actually call him.

meanwhile max was in his apartment on his sim when he heard a knock at his door. when he opened it he saw lando standing on his doorstep before he pushed his way into his apartment. max asked, "why are you in my apartment?" lando shook his head and countered, "why are you posting shit like this online?" a smug grin tugged at max's lips and he answered, "you know why."

lando sat on max's couch and responded, "i don't know why. what i do know is your girlfriend called me crying asking me why you weren't answering her calls." max huffed, "she's busy playing with that guy." lando ran a hand through his curls, "you're jealous of her best fucking friend? are you being serious right now?" max rolled his eyes and lando continued, "the guy wears nail polish and face glitter and you think something is going on between them?" when there was silence lando continued, "mate he literally flirted with charles and asked for his number when he came to zandvoort last year. then told alex that she had good taste because he wanted to quote 'drink him up and sop up the rest with a biscuit. and you think there's any way that something is happening with y/n? you can be jealous but if your girlfriend says there's no reason to worry then you should trust her. you need to fix this before something actually happens that can't be fixed." lando slapped max on the shoulder before walking out the door and heading back to his apartment.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

it was nearly 3 am when max unlocked the front door to your apartment and slipped in quietly, kicking off his shoes and leaving them by your front door. he pulled back the door and grabbed one of his t shirts and took off his pants before climbing in your bed. he pulled you closer to him and wrapped his arm around your torso. when you moved his arm off of you he knew you were awake so he mumbled, "schat..." you answered plainly, "wat wil je, max?" your boyfriend pressed a kiss to your shoulder and responded, "i'm sorry. i was wrong and i was immature and posting those pictures knowing you had them in our private folder was wrong." there was a momentary silence before you asked, "waarom heb je het dan gedaan?" he let out a deep sigh as he admitted, "i was jealous and only thinking about myself in the moment instead of thinking about how my actions would affect you as well. i never want to hurt you or be the reason for your pain, but i was so i'm sorry." [what do you want, max? // then, why did you do it?]

you felt his hand run over your arm gently as you asked, "wat ga je doen om het te repareren?" max answered, "well i deleted the post first and came here to apologize second. also i'd love to see you go to london, paris, new york, and milan to support nikko in september. i'll be waiting at home for you the minute you get back." you turned to face him and opened your eyes, finding his gaze in the darkness. bringing your hand to his cheek you asked, "i never want you to think that anyone stands a chance at competing with you for my heart, maxie. you are my person and i only love you this way, i only want to be with you. there's only you in my heart and i need you to trust me when i say that, okay?" max leaned into your touch and nodded, before you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, "i love you." he pulled you to his chest and tangled his legs with yours as he replied, "ik houd ook van jou." you nuzzled closer to him and brought a hand to his chest, tracing small patterns over his heart. both of you began to drift off to sleep, your voice cut through the silence, "but do that shit again and i'm kicking your ass, verstappen." max let out a small chuckle and admitted, "i don't doubt that, but you don't have to worry about it happening again." [what are you going to do to fix it?//i love you too.]

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

the end.

[takimakiiiii]

singapore lovin’ had me a blast 

part2! to the cosmic girl records

¡Cosmic Girl Records!

summary: going to Singapore to support your boyfriend, stealing Alex’s girlfriend and beefing with lando, nothing’s changed really 

olliebearman x reader & platonic!grid x reader

fc!: gorgeous girls and couples on pinterest all credits go to rightful owners of the photos used below 

a/n: also the timeline and the whole universe in what these smau’s are based in are very different to irl, ollie’s in f1 already and he drives for ferrari, lewis is still in mercedes because it made more sense kind of? I’ll fill in the gaps as we go lol

disclaimer!: there may be some sensitive jokes that may be hurtful to some people, they are all there just for the humour and to make the story more enjoyable, please don’t come after me 😭

also i’m sorry for the english and french slander against lando and pierre it’s purely for humour😔 please don’t take the comments to heart

a/n: the lovely @yawn-zi gave me the courage to post the second part to the cosmic girl records, i hope you didn’t get in trouble for laughing during portuguese class! and a big thank you to @nichmeddarso who rebloged part1 with all those tags it was greatly appreciated!

here you go, enjoy!

liked by landonorris, olliebearman, georgerussell64, lilymhe, alex_albon and 3,849,383 others

unfortunatelyy/n: next stop, Singapore! btw, the sunset was a paid actor ❤️

tagged olliebearman 

view 2,473,282 comments 

 landonorris: for anyone who asks, it was traumatising sitting next to the two of them on the flight

 unfortunatelyy/n: so bitter damn 

 landonorris: BECAUSE WE MISSED OUR FLIGHT

 unfortunatelyy/n: NOT MY FAULT 

 landonorris: IT WAS MOST DEFINITELY YOUR FAULT 

 unfortunatelyy/n: OKAY I’M SORRY I LEFT MY PASSPORT IN THE TAXI BUT STILL 

 landonorris: mhm, sure 

 unfortunatelyy/n: “mHm sUrE” 🇬🇧🤓☕

 landonorris: DIE.

 user1: NAH SHE DID HIM SO DIRTY 

user7: always count on y/n to keep an aesthetically pleasing instagram page 

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

 olliebearman: you wouldn’t be able to guess how many times she made me retake that first pic 

 landonorris: i can 🙄

 unfortunatelyy/n: BOTH OF YOU SHUSH 

 user2: does she actually have a job or does she just follow ollie around 😐

 user3: yes she has a job???

 user4: it's called taking a vacation, google it?

 lilymhe: can’t wait to see you soon bb 🥰

 alex_albon: you have a boyfriend???? me??

 unfortunatelyy/n: @alex_albon stop being so delusional you sound crazy 

 alex_albon: @lilymhe are you really going to let her bully me 😰

 lilymhe: . . .

 alex_albon: 😦

 unfortunatelyy/n: the man was too stunned to speak 😱

 alex_albon: 🖕

 user5: it’s not a y/n insta post without y/n and lily terrorising alex in the comments section 

 user6: and y/n and lando bickering like the 5 year olds that they are 

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, georgerussell64, charles_leclerc, olliebearman and 4,489,383 others 

unfortunatelyy/n: some sightseeing and exploring before the weekend with my wifey and . . .  boyfriend?

tagged olliebearman and lilymhe 

view 3,682,838 comments 

 user1: Ollie’s officially the third wheel now 😔

 user11: a moment of silence for another fallen soldier 🫡

user2: HELP THE FIRST AND SECOND PIC HAVE ME ROLLING ON THE GROUND 

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

 lilymhe: loved exploring with you. . . and your friend!

 user3: HELP

 unfortunatelyy/n: it’s okay! he won’t be a problem after this weekend 😃

 olliebearman: 😦

 user4: homie’s traumatised 

 alex_albon: . . . it’s okay really. I’m fine. I’m fine.

 user5: not alex going through all 5 stages of grief 

liked by unfortunatelyy/n 

 user6: I can’t tell which one he’s up to 

 user5: . . . neither can i. 

 user7: she’s STUNNING, Ollie better sleep with one eye open tonight 

 olliebearman: 😰

 user8: ollie on any of y/n’s insta posts after reading the comments: 😮😰😔

 user10: literally anyone really 😭

 alex_albon: @charles_leclerc @georgerussell64 when does it end 😭 please, i’m a desperate man 

 georgerussell64: we lied 😔

charles_leclerc: it never does. 

 user9: where’s lando, it’s not a y/n post without him commenting something absurd 

 landonorris: i have been summoned. 

 user9: WHAT DID I DO 😰

 landonorris: oh so now you have a boyfriend AND a wife? 🤨

 unfortunatelyy/n: at least I have SOMEONE

 landonorris: 😨

liked by olliebearman, landonorris, lilymhe, georgerussell64, charles_leclerc and 5,728,282 others 

unfortunatelyy/n: as long as i'm with you, I've got a smile on my face 

tagged olliebearman 

view 4,282,992 comments 

olliebearman: ❤️

liked by unfortunatelyy/n 

user3: couple goals fr 

 user5: THE FIRST PIC I CAN’T DECIDE WHO DO WE THINK WON GUYS 

 user6: y/n, duh. 

 olliebearman: unfortunately, that is correct 😔

 unfortunatelyy/n: that’s me flipping off lando in the distance in the second pic by the way 

 landonorris: i should be getting paid for taking all these yucky photos of you guys and this is how you repay me?

 unfortunatelyy/n: guys what do we think? Has being single finally hit him?

 landonorris: that’s it, i’ve had enough, i’m releasing THE video 

 unfortunatelyy/n: OH YOU WOULDN’T DARE

 landonorris: oh yes I would, watch me. 

 user1: HELP WHAT ARE THE CHILDREN TALKING ABOUT 

 user9: IDK BUT I CAN’T TELL IF THEY’RE JOKING OR NOT 

user10: this turned into a war zone so quickly 

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, carlossainz55, pierregasly, danielricciardo and 11,749,383 others

unfortunatelyy/n: and due to personal reasons, a human by the name of Lando Norris shan't be getting mentioned in any future posts, so enjoy ✨

tagged landonorris 

view 12,483,372 comments 

user1: SHE DID NOT HOLD BACK

user2: he’s such an icon fr 

user3: he’s never beating the babygirl allegations after this i'm afraid 😔

user4: “thank you y/n” they all said in unison 

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

 landonorris: I SAID I WAS SORRY LIKE 50 TIMES WHAT MORE DO U WANT 

 unfortunatelyy/n: i only accept apologies in cash 

 landonorris: well damn no apology for you then 

 unfortunatelyy/n: YOU’RE LITERALLY A MILLIONAIRE???

 landonorris: and your point?

 unfortunatelyy/n: i hope you accidentally eat fish the next time you go for takeout 

 user10: oop she really went there 

 unfortunatelyy/n: and i hope you realise after it’s too late 

 landonorris: GASP. HOW DARE YOU

 unfortunatelyy/n: 😃

 carlossainz55: *saves photos to camera roll 

 landonorris: wow. 

 carlossainz55: for memories, you know?

 landonorris: “fOr mEmOriEs yOu kNoW?” SHUT UP YOU MUPPET, YOU’RE REALLY NO HELP YOU KNOW

 carlossainz55: so aggressive geez 

user5: lando’s fighting for his life in the comments section

 pierregasly: lando in the third pic: UWU

 landonorris: I- SHUT UP YOU FRENCH HO HO HO BAGUETTE BABY MAN

 user8: absolutely violated 

unfortunatelyy/n: i’ve sworn to secrecy but since SOMEONE CAN’T KEEP A SECRET, i guess I can’t too. The second pic is me when i forced lando to cook fish for me, hence the disgusted face. it’s safe to say he did not talk to me for 6 months straight after 

 user6: Y/N, professional exposer 

 landonorris: HOW COULD YOU, YOU PINKY SWEARED I HATE YOU

 carlossainz55: @unfortunatelyy/n: teach me your ways 🙏

 unfortunatelyy/n: a magician never reveals their secrets, but i’m no magician so sure 

 user 7: HELP STOP EXPOSING LANDO 

 unfortunatelyy/n: never 😤

 landonorris: 😭

liked by olliebearman, kimi.antonelli, charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc and 7,483,832 others 

unfortunatelyy/n: always and forever proud of you 🐻

tagged olliebearman 

view 6,382,392 comments 

 olliebearman: oh so that’s why you wanted that photo ☹️

 unfortunatelyy/n: sorry love! ❤️

user1: as i clicked into the notification, i thought “at last, a normal sensible post from y/n” i have never been more wrong, WHAT IS THAT SECOND PHOTO Y/N

liked by unfortunatelyy/n 

user2: a relationship like theirs, it's a need not a want 

user3: from spilling pasta on her to becoming her man, talk about upgrades 😌

 kimi.antonelli: @unfortunatelyy/n what about the photo I sent for your post

 olliebearman: WHAT PHOTO 

 kimi.antonelli: . . . there’s no photo i have no idea what you’re talking about there’s no photo ahaha

 arthur_leclerc: @unfortunatelyy/n what about MY photo of Ollie

 dinobeganovic_: @unfortunatelyy/n and mine?

 maya_weug: @unfortunatelyy/n mine?

 olliebearman: Y/N ANSWER THEM WHAT PHOTOS 

 unfortunatelyy/n: . . . there’s no photos are you crazy ahahah

 user4: the gaslighting goes hard 😭

a/n: thank you everyone for the love that part 1 got! I really appreciated all the likes and reblogs that the post got, i hope you enjoyed part 2 to the cosmic girl records universe. This part was a bit shorter than the first and I have 3 more parts that i’m working on that should be out soon. Thank you and bye for now! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

also should i make a tag list for the series? 🤔

[icaruspendragon]

I got tagged in one of those "get to know me" tag games back in 2021 and I wanna see how 2024 me's answers compare!

2021:

1. Nickname: berk

2. Zodiac: Gemini

3. Height: 5’4

4. hogwarts house: it’s been years since I last took the test, but Gryffindor

5. Last thing I googled: yellow wallpaper. The short story haha.

6. Song stuck in my head: movement by hozier

7. Number of followers: 1021

8. Amount of sleep: 4ish hours recently

9. Lucky number: I don’t think I have one but my favorite is 27

10. Dream job: something where I get to help people

11. Wearing: mom jeans, black turtleneck, gray quater zip for the university of Mississippi chapter of delta gamma. Thrift store finds, ya know?

12. Favorite author: Kurt Vonnegut

13. Favorite instrument: cello

14. Aesthetic: someone once told me that I looked like “every kind of lesbian.” So whatever that means.

15. Favorite song: uhh, currently it’s probably “would that i” by hozier

16. Favorite animal noise: kitty cat purrs

17. Random: today at work some lady told me that everytime she comes in she looks for me because I make the best drinks. I haven’t stopped smiling bc of that :’)

2024:

1. Nickname: berk, professor alpha

2. Zodiac: gemini

3. Height: 5’4

4. hogwarts house: once again it's been years since i last took it, but my result that time was slytherin

5. Last thing I googled: "how does a pipe bomb work? I'm not gonna make one I'm just curious /gen"

6. Song stuck in my head: nothing at the moment, but according to receiptify my top ten most listened to songs for November so far are:

man or muppet - jason segel, walter

blue sky & the painter - bastille

marie & polonium - bastille

intros & narrators - bastille

eve & paradise lost - bastille

red wine & wilde - bastille

seasons & narcissus - bastille

fratelli d'italia - this is the italian national anthem lmao

the rattlin bog - seamus kennedy

nobody's soldier - hozier

7. Number of followers: 14,841

8. Amount of sleep: not enough

9. Lucky number: my original answer still stands. big fan of 27 still, too.

10. Dream job: I don't dream of being a laborer, but I still very much want to something that helps people.

11. Wearing: biker shorts and a 2024 gran premio dell'emilia romagna crewneck. welcome back princess diana

12. Favorite author: opal_bullets of ao3 fame

13. Favorite instrument: banjo

14. Aesthetic: on a spectrum that goes from academic queer to refined-button-up bisexual

15. Favorite song: it changes somewhat often. my all time favorite is icarus by bastille but my current is the don reno version of feudin' banjos

16. Favorite animal noise: when my cat groans like she's a blue-collar dad whose long day at work and just wants to decompress in his recliner

17. Random: I was very brave and also very sexy and I decided to go back to school after dropping out at the end of my senior years four years ago and I registered for classes this week and I am not going to let myself self sabotage and quit before I've even started because of anxiety-driven-fear-of-the-unkown-control-issues because it's okay to be scared. you just can't let that stop you and I'm done letting it stop me !!!

[honeytonedhottie]

lets talk manifestation⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🍭

this post is intended to inform you about the law of assumption, kind of like a master post if its something that you'd like to get into. i've talked about the loa countless times and i'll continue to do so to encourage u all to apply the law and live the life of ur dreams ✨

if u already know about the law, this post will serve as a reminder that manifesting is EASY and that you know how to do it. its easy peasy! if u wanna know more about manifesting, join my google class 💕

WHAT IS MANIFESTATION ;

manifestations is the law of the UNIVERSE. its our nature and we've been doing it infinitely. we are always manifesting. ur inner world translates to ur outer world. manifestation is controlling (disciplining urself) ur thoughts so that u can control your reality, and you DO control your reality subconsciously. but its just what u think -> what u experience. MANIFESTATION = CURATING UR WORLD.

WHERE DOES DISCIPLINE COME IN ;

if u dont take the time to curate ur thoughts then ur world is just gonna be running on autopilot based on what you've been conditioned to believe. you're always selecting experiences based on what u focus on.

for example if ur constantly complaining, ur reality will just give u more things to complain about because thats what ur focusing on. whats in ur mind translates to ur reality.

HOW TO MAKE IT WORK FOR YOU ;

shifting ur thoughts and thinking only what u want to experience. u select new experiences through ur mind. from my experience what i KNOW works is affirming and thats universal. so if u love affirming then good for you, but its all about finding what u can do better. for me its affirming, for some people its visualization just do you.

a helpful analogy to make things a little clearer is to imagine ur mind as a printer and whatever u feed the printer is whats going to be expressed into ur reality. YOU are the one feeding the printer meaning that you are in control.

what u need to do to start applying the law of assumption is decide. decide that ur not going to be a victim in ur own reality and stand on ur decision. for the first couple of days/or weeks you'll still be experiencing ur old beliefs because they were so ingrained in you.

but instead of falling back into old patterns you'll respond differently to ur 3D circumstances. by not reacting to unfavorable circumstances your not re-selecting that experience.

[accirax]

Translating and Analyzing Project: Eden's Garden's Title Theme

Haven't personally seen anyone else do this yet, so I figured I'd share my curiosity stirred up by the just-released Main Title Theme Live Symphony Performance with the class.

As a note, I don't speak Latin at all, so I will be relying on Google (including Google Translate) to help me out. Therefore, it's possible that some segments-- especially longer sentences or phrases-- may be translated incorrectly. If you do speak Latin and notice something that's off, I'd love to know!

This post will contain spoilers for Chapter 1, so please don't read this if you aren't caught up. That being said, let's get started with my most enthralling "theory" to date: trying to reverse engineer teaching myself Latin.

Because multiple sets of lyrics are occasionally sung at the same time, it's possible that my screenshots will contain multiple phrases in them. I'll do my best to avoid having that happen as much as possible, but otherwise, the explanatory captions under the pictures should make it clear which section I'm talking about!

A simple search of "omnibus" returns that it means "to all," but "omnibus de omnibus" becomes "everything about everything." This online Latin-English dictionary clarifies that the noun "omnis" can mean "all people" or "all things/everything." The -ibus suffix could be indicative of the locative, dative, or ablative tense. Ohio State University explains that the locative conjugation indicates the place where something happens, the dative conjugation indicates the person to whom something happens, and the ablative tense is really complicated could either mean why something happened (its origin) or how something happened (the means by which it occurred).

From what I can tell, "dubitandum" seems much simpler. It's just the gerund form of the verb "dubitare," which means "to doubt." In English, a gerund is a word that ends in "-ing" but is used as a noun. "Writing" in the sentence "I like writing" is a gerund because writing is a thing (a noun) that I like. Although dubitandum is a viable conjugation for many verb tenses, it seems to appear most often in the accusative case, which refers to "the end destination."

Stringing it together, "omnibus de omnibus dubitandum" would probably mean something like "all people will eventually doubt everything", or, as Google Translate would put it, "to doubt everything about everything."

"De omnibus dubitandum" specifically is apparently a common phrase (attributed to Renee Descartes) that just means "doubt everything." According to the link I just pasted, it was also a favorite saying of Karl Marx. C-Cassidy...?

Next is both a low register and a high register singing "fiat voluntas tu." "Fiat" is the singular present tense of "to do," so basically just "do." "Voluntas" seems to pop up most frequently as a noun, meaning "will" or "intent." And "tua", much like the Spanish "tú," just means "your." Smashing those together results in "do your will," or as Google Translate more eloquently puts it, "your will be done." "Thy will be done," if you want to get really fancy.

Here comes a long one. In total, the full sentence reads, "liber scriptus proferetur, in quo totem continentur, unde mundus judicetur." Thankfully, I don't have to translate this one. My boy William Josiah Irons already did it for me!

Reason being, this line is taken directly from the medieval Latin poem Dies Irae, AKA Day of Wrath, by Thomas of Celano. (And no, I did not know this offhand, I had to look this up too). Irons' translation tries to keep the original rhyme and meter of the Latin version, so if you want to sing along, use this:

Lo, the book, exactly worded, Wherein all hath been recorded, Thence shall judgement be awarded.

However, if that version is a bit too fancy for you, Wikipedia has a more modern translation:

The written book will be brought forth, in which all is contained, from which the world shall be judged.

If you're like me and know nothing about religion, you might see "book" in a medieval Roman (AKA Catholic) song and immediately assume that they're talking about the Bible. However, if Wikipedia is to be believed, they're referencing a different piece of literature which, to be fair, is at least mentioned in the Bible...! The Book of Life in Christian faith is "God’s record of all those over the centuries who have trusted Christ as their Savior and have followed Him as Lord." Therefore, the "all that is contained" would refer to the names of all of the holy people who believe in Catholicism.

The world-judging bit refers to "Judgment Day" or "The Last Judgment." That term refers to belief that, someday, Jesus Christ will return to Earth, and at that point, God will judge everyone who's ever lived, saving the faithful people and damning the non-believers. There are varying beliefs on whether more people would be saved or more people would be damned, but considering the song is called "Day of Wrath," I have to imagine Mr. Celano wasn't that optimistic. This song is famously associated with Catholic funeral masses too, so that upbeat attitude really stuck.

I could barely even hear this part under the music, but the subtitles alerted me to the fact that the chorus chants "da mihi factum, dabo tibi ius" here! This is another one I don't have to translate, because it's a reference to something else B)

"Da mihi factum, dabo tibi ius" means "give me the facts, I will give you law," according to A Guide to Latin in International Law via Oxford Reference. The reason why it's written in Latin is because, apparently, this saying originates from the Roman court system.

Looking at the bottom row, the lower-pitched chanting says, "vulnerant omnia, ultima necat." This semi-common phrase typically translates to, "all hours wound, the last one kills," even if the "hour" ("horae") isn't included.

The top comment on this Reddit thread breaks it down the way I would if I inherently knew Latin:

Let's review the underlying grammar: Vulnerant=they wound omnia is ambiguous because it can be both the subject and the object of vulnerant. However, in this case, horae is understood to be the subject, so omnia must be the object. It means all things. If it were omnes, then it would also be ambiguous because omnes can also be both as well. [...] So Vulnerant omnia [horae]=all [hours] wound* or the hours wound all things. The second one isn't very pleasant. And Vulnerant omnes [horae]=all [hours] wound* or the hours wound [men/men and women]. Ultima necat=the last kills

The comment also elaborates that the "horae" is assumed because the phrase is often found on clocks or sundials in churches. Many different sources return this phrase (or slight variations on it) including hours in the meaning, so I'm inclined to believe that it's true.

The bottom line repeats the same phrase again after this, so I won't include it for a second time.

Our final line! In the middle row, we have "Opere et veritate, de omnibus dubitandum!" This one isn't a reference, but luckily it's still easy enough to figure out.

The second half of the sentence is something we've looked at before. As a recap, "de" means "of," "omnibus" means "of everything/everyone", and dubitandum means "doubting." So, the second half of the sentence will probably mean something like "doubting of everything."

"Opere," much like "opus" is a noun meaning "work," as in a work of art. "Et" means "and," and "veritate" means "truth." The handy-dandy Latin-Is-Simple.com conveniently puts this together as "in action and in truth."

Together, the sentence means something like "in action and in truth, have doubt of everything/everyone." Google Translate puts it as "by work and truth, we must doubt everything," but I like my translation better.

Therefore, altogether, here's a rough translation of the P:EG theme's lyrics:

All people will eventually doubt everything... Thy will be done... The Book of Life will be brought forth, in which the names of all the holy are contained, and then the world will be judged. Give me the facts, I will give you law! All hours wound, the last hour kills. In action and truth, doubt everything and everyone. All hours wound, the last hour kills!

So, let's swap out our translator hats for lyrical analysis hats, 'cause there's obviously a lot here to relate to P:EG and the concept of killing games as a whole.

The first two lines paired together are a prophecy, a threat and a promise combined. Basically, the choir is saying, "you think that people will eventually doubt everything? Well, here's your wish come true!" The line clearly connects to Damon and his core philosophy. As long as Damon continues to not want to trust anybody, then nobody will seem trustworthy. Furthermore, if Damon continues to not trust others, that means there will always be one person in the group who won't be trustful, so everyone being trustful is impossible.

Not that it's much of a surprise, but the kinda judgy tone of these first two lyrics definitely implies that Damon's attitude will be challenged (and likely corrected) at some point in the story. "Thy will" was a stylization, but the truth remains that the phrase referred to a singular entity. The lyrics place the focus on a single individual, and blames them for everything that follows by implying that the lack of trust is their fault. It's very reminiscent of the end of the Prologue, where the entire class blames Damon and Eva for ruining the vibes between them.

The Day of Wrath section continues the game's religious theming, invoking discussions of the end of all times. Although I doubt a literal Armageddon will happen in P:EG, I can certainly understand how the participants of the killing game would consider it the end of all things. Certainly, a lot of less-than-virtuous people will be dying here, especially if you're under the assumption that everyone who kills is morally bankrupt.

It's certainly an interesting implication that those in the killing game who are most virtuous might be the ones who are saved. Are they just extending that morality to how likely someone is to kill them? Like, people wouldn't kill you if they think you're cool? There is also the argument that students who are too curious or have something to hide are more likely to find themselves in deadly situations (a la Wolfgang), leaving the less bold students alive in the end. Still, that's not as much of a judgment on God's (Tozu's?) part.

Something in me wonders if this killing game might have been created as a challenge. I don't think that the motivations behind it would be to punish this group of students in particular-- we know semi-factually that some of their deepest, darkest secrets are hardly anything to sneeze at. Instead of being so targeted, the goal would be to have most of the students fail, while a select few succeed.

There's a definite possibility that Eden's Garden College-- and the titular Project: Eden's Garden-- is a ploy to weed out the "fake Ultimates" by proving who truly has what it takes to succeed in the cutthroat world of business by literally cutting people's throats. Becoming the "true face of talent" could mean literally erasing the other faces of those who weigh the title of Ultimate down; with so many Ultimates around, it's easy to not notice if one or two go missing.

If we're in a world where talent is valued above all else, the "virtue" that Tozu could be sparing them for could be talent itself. "Leadership, communication, and persuasion" are certainly skills that could help you survive a Class Trial (whether as a blackened or spotless). Depending how deep the corruption goes in this world, it's possible that the graduates of Eden's Garden Academy-- survivors of former killing games-- are simply willing to keep quiet about the Academy's dark secret if it means that they can claim all of the accolades for themselves. They fought for and earned it, after all.

If this is the direction the story takes, I can definitely see how making someone like Damon the protagonist would be the perfect choice. For him to spend all game talking about his superiority and belief in the talents of the Academy only to learn that all of the Ultimates he admired kept 14 nearly-as-talented skeletons in their closet would surely create an interesting internal conflict for the final Class Trial.

This is all just a theory, as there are plenty of other ways the Day of Wrath poem could relate to P:EG. However, I think it's a theory with a decent backing behind it.

"Give me the facts, I will give you law"-- I mean, that has to relate to Wolfgang, right? Even beyond the fact that it just says "law" in it, it's international law, perfect for an Ultimate Lawyer who wants to unite everyone. This line could definitely indicate how Wolfgang took Damon's facts (that some people in the Academy would be willing to kill) and turned them into ammunition for his own missive. If I were writing this analysis before Ch1 dropped, I would probably have speculated more about the future rivalry between Damon and Wolfgang. Instead, Damon and Wolfgang's "rivalry" is already over, with honestly not that much beef between them.

Given that Wolfgang is dead, it's also worth it to consider this outside of a Wolfgang context moving forward. This line could also relate to Damon's experiences in solving a Class Trial: after getting the facts of the case, Damon goes to the Class Trial Grounds and lays down the law.

"All hours wound, the last hour kills" is super interesting in the context of a killing game. My immediate connection was to the chapters, or in-universe Trials, of the killing game. All chapters of the game will wound Damon and the eventual other survivors, but it's the final chapter in which they're confronted with the true despairs of the world.

Another interpretation could work on a more chapter-by-chapter basis: every day in the killing game damages something, whether it's the killer's sanity or their business/reputation out in the real world, so it's in their "last hour" when they snap and need to get out. Especially with the ticking clock of the Traitor Perk out there for Eva at least and possibly future killers as well, time feels like a big factor.

In general, I would assume that (if the quote is found on clocks in churches) the phrase probably means something along the lines of "don't procrastinate," which could also be applied to the concept of Ultimates in general. They're always on that grindset.

And finally, "in action and truth, don't trust anything or anyone." This line is pretty unremarkable (being a pretty obvious repetition of Damon's mindset at the beginning of the game) other than in contrast with the beginning of the song. As I said, at the beginning of the song, the choir was almost reprimanding Damon with their "thy will be done." However, here, not trusting anything or anyone is spoken more like advice.

It could be that the choir was actually speaking more neutrally at the beginning, and that they're willing to accept the lack of trust because they always knew it would happen. Or, it could be that, by this point in the song, the lyrics have shifted to represent Damon's point of view instead of the universe's. If "I will give you law" did relate to Damon laying down the law, maybe that "I" pronoun is the point of the song at which the lyrics become Damon's thoughts?

Otherwise, maybe the choir is just meant to make Damon feel bad no matter what he does. Let's assume that, over the course of the game, Damon will come to trust certain individuals more. If true, then at the beginning of the game, the choir could be like "damn if you want to not trust people then it's kinda your fault what happens next dude," and closer to the end they could be like "oooooooh you wanna not trust people so bad remember Eva?" If the song is just meant to be an imposing feel-bad moment, then the emotions of the impartial choir could be unimportant.

And, well, that's the song! As is basically my brand, this post wound up way longer than I thought it would, back when I thought I was just going to Google Translate all the lyrics and be done with it. But, I hope that learning a bit about Latin was intriguing (assuming I did it correctly), and that the plotlines implied by the lyrics have given you a bit to chew on!

Still working on the overall Ch1 review/analysis, I just thought that writing this post would only take me, like, half an hour... Hopefully I'll see you back whenever that's done! Until then!

[puckingeccedentesiast]

Cool Continuations

Quinn x Reader!oc

Word Count: 900 words!

Authorial Note: Part two of ‘Concrete Impressions.’ This is also a part of Cookie’ Universe! Thank you for the overwhelming amount of support on this au so far 🥺🫶🏼. NOTE THAT THIS IS ALSO A NORMAL QUINN FIC, IT IS A READER INSERT THAT ALIGNS WITH MY AU.

Warnings: Mentions of War in a classroom context.

‘The Vietnam War, started on the first of November, 1955…’ Quinn rested his chin on his balled-up fist. The bottom, bony part of his elbow was turning red and beginning to ache from how much weight he was resting on it. He wasn’t paying attention to the lecture at all. Normally, he only paid attention if it was dire or if he had an exam fast approaching. But today was different. He glanced periodically over at Cookie, paying attention to someone else entirely.

Quinn was hunched over, day-dreaming himself silly over the idea of being her prince charming. He imagined teaching her to skate, maybe even getting her to come to one of his games, wearing his jersey...

“What was that date again?” Y/N sighed, looking pensively at her iPad notes. Quinn’s heart jumped—he wanted to answer her, just to see her smile. He quickly Googled it, then read her the answer. In doing this, he learned he could be the one to make her smile, something he had already decided was his favorite thing. He pretended to absorb all the professor’s information like a sponge, even jotting down a few notes when she did.

Soon, he was noticing even more details about her, things he couldn’t help but find adorable. She was so particular about her academics; her notes were methodically typed and organized. She used both a physical calendar and an online one, and had a habit of thinking out loud. During a small writing task, she mumbled to herself, like a human articulation machine. She would say a word, then scrunch up her face, muttering something about there being a better one. He found himself smiling whenever she did this, realizing he didn’t just like seeing the joy on her face when she found the right word—he loved it.

‘Homework is due by 9 p.m. on Friday… dismissed!’

Quinn watched as she wrote this down in her physical planner: left side, third row down. He barely knew her, but he already felt himself sliding from curiosity to borderline obsession. He wanted to know every little thing that made Cookie unique, down to the tiniest detail. "What are you doing for the rest of the afternoon, Cookie?”

He watched as Y/N meticulously packed her notebook and iPad into her bag, slinging it back onto her shoulder. She adjusted her hair, tucking it over her ear. “I’m heading back to my dorm to have a pretty tame night. I’ll probably finish homework for this class, as well as my work for bio! It’s Tuesday though, so I’ll be ordering Indian and watching Gilmore Girls!”

Quinn smiled to himself gently. “Sounds like a packed evening there!”

“It will be, but it’s relaxing to me.” She quietly thanked a classmate who held the door open for them. Once they were in the corridor, Quinn lingered, desperate to absorb every second he could with her.

“Do you have anything on tonight, Quinn?”

The dazed look in his eyes dulled, and he snapped back to the moment. “I have hockey training tonight. We’ve got a game on Thursday, against BU.”

“Fun!” she said with a beaming smile, removing her heavy bag to hold it in front of her. Quinn noticed this and put two and two together—she’d been holding it too long, and it was getting heavy.

“I hope you do well in that game, Quinn!”

Quinn scratched the back of his neck, letting out a sheepish laugh as his eyes crinkled with a smile. “I was actually wondering… I know it’s sudden and short notice, but would you like to come? I could get you a ticket.”

He watched as surprise washed over her features. “You would want me to come?”

“Yeah!” What he really wanted to say was, I’d love for you to be there, but he managed, “I think it would be great if you were there!”

She smiled, a small joy-filled expression that just about melted Quinn. “I’d love to be there if it’s not too much hassle to get me a ticket?”

“Not at all! I can get you one and message it to you… I would need your phone number though!” He was trying to play his cards right. Even though he barely knew her, he knew these hours were some of the most formative and important he’d ever lived.

“Here, pass your phone—I can put it in!” Quinn placed his phone in her small, delicate hand and watched as her nimble fingers typed in her number before she handed it back carefully. “I have to go, but I’m sure I’ll see you again, Polka-dot.”

“Polka-dot?” Quinn looked down at her, bewildered. “What kind of nickname is that?”

“You’ll just have to find out!” She grinned at him, her hair waving as she turned and made her way toward the exit, her bag slung back on her shoulder. Quinn felt dazed, in awe of everything about her—her beauty, her kindness, and most of all, her effortless ability to be herself.

As she left, he realized she’d agreed to come to his game, and he had her phone number. Now, he just needed to make sure he didn’t mess this up. The next priority was securing that ticket for her, which meant that soon, all his teammates would know.

This was going to be interesting. But Quinn already knew it would be so, so worth it.

[baby-yongbok]

My Savior?

Yandere!Hyunjin x Sadodere!BangChan x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, non idol

Warnings: Yandere, Manipulation, Jealousy, swearing, Stalking, obsession, mentions of murder, physical abuse (towards reader), threats (towards reader), description of injuries, possessiveness, gaslighting. If any of these tags trigger you than PLEASE do not read or continue with caution! (Sorry if I missed any tags)

✨Masterlist ✨

Word Count: 1922

Note: Hyunjin and Third Person POV

Summary: You and Hyunjin go way back. You've know each other since your senior year of university and your friendship meant a lot to eachother, you just didn't know that it still meant a lot to Hyunjin. He values you as more than a friend and your boyfriend Chan is anything but happy about that. Chan plans to let you know just how unhappy he is with you trying to rekindle your friendship with Hyunjin but when things get heated a certain someone is there to 'save the day'.

Hyunjin's POV

There she goes again, switching those fucking hips so hard. She clearly likes the attention it brings her, the men around her breaking their necks to get a better look at her beautiful --

" Hyunjin?" Fuck, she saw me. I was going to try to surprise her.

"Y/n, hey." I've been practicing my surprised face for a moment like this one. It's pretty hard to be 'surprised' to see someone that you see everyday. "What are you doing out here? Don't you live across town?"

"You know I can't resist Ron's coffee, what about you? It's been forever since I've seen you, where have you been?" To answer your question, yes, I do know that you can't resist the coffee here. You've been coming to this cafe every Saturday and Wednesday after yoga class since our senior year of college. I'm honestly surprised that you stuck with Yoga for two whole years. You've always been bad at committing to things.

"Oh, you know, I've been around. Been doing a little bit of everything, a lot of freelancing."

"That sounds great, I know it can be a bit challenging for photographers to make a living out here but you're so talented I know that you'll find a permanent spot soon." She's smiling, so I can't help but to do the same. She's so cute and foolish. I'll never settle at one job, I need to be close to her. I made a promise never to be more than two miles from her at all times just in case--.

"Y/n." Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. No, no, no. Not him, what the fuck is he doing here.

"Chan, hey, I thought you'd never show up. This is Hyunjin, we went to Uni together. Hyunjin, this is my boyfriend Chan." Oh, I know who he is, Bang Christopher Chan, twenty-five years old, born October third which makes him a libra. I could go on and on about your cute little scumbag here.

"Nice to meet you." I offer my hand to him and his icy stare meets my burning one. He doesn't budge, you can barely tell that he's breathing. You wanna be a tough guy? Two can play that game.

"Chan" Y/n nudges him in his side and he serves her a disapproving glare. Running my hand through my hair I smile over at y/n.

"It's fine, some people have a hard time containing their jealousy when they're around me."

"Come on, y/n, we'll be late." Late? You don't have anywhere to be. She would've put it in her Google Calendar.

"Uh, right. Well um, Hyunjin it was awesome seeing you. Text me sometime." He grips the back of her neck and guides her past me just as she went in for a hug. I'd be lying if I said it didn't take everything in me not to snatch her from him. She doesn't need someone like him, always so cold towards her. Does he even have a heart? How could you not smile at the sight of her short curly hair, her bright eyes and crooked smile. How could you resist such a ravishing woman? It takes everything in me not to step out of her closet in the mornings and fuck her right over her desk.

Before I could say my goodbye the cafe door closed behind them and Chan looked back at me with a smirk. My jaw clenched at the sight, he thinks he's got her. He thinks he can take her from me, he thinks this is goodbye. It is far from goodbye, it's see you later. Maybe, tonight.

Third person POV

"Why would you tell him to text you later?" The echo of Chan slamming his car keys down on the table in the main hallway echoed through the quiet apartment. Y/n trailed in behind him, annoyance evident in her eyes and tone.

"I told you a thousand times, I was being kind. Hyunjin and I haven't seen each other in a year and a half. We were best friends and I've missed him." That's all she had to say to trigger him, he turned swiftly, caging her body against the hallway wall with his arms on either side of her body. He leaned down to her, inches away from her face and snarled.

"You what?"

"I- I said that.. I missed.. him." A smirk plays upon Chan's lips, it deepens into a smile as he processes what she just had the nerve to tell him.

"You shouldn't say things that you don't mean, Y/n. That makes you a liar and no love of mine is going to be a liar. You do not miss him." A stiff laugh spills from Chan's lips causing y/n to shiver and squeeze her eyes shut. She knew that Chan could get jealous to say the least but he's never come off this… Intense. "Listen, baby, I don't want you talking to him okay? I think that's a simple request and I expect you to follow it. Am I clear?"

The silence that followed Chan's question seemed to worsen the situation almost instantly, slamming his hands against the wall he inches closer to her until they are practically sharing the same breath. "Am I fucking clear, y/n?"

"Yes." Her answer is firm and rushed, it's also a lie. She knew that if Hyunjin were to message her, she'd answer. How could she not? Their friendship goes so far back it would just be rude to ignore him.

"Good, pet." Backing away from her Chan turns his attention towards the living room. "I'm Ordering thai, I'll get your usual "

Y/n stood there, shaken and silent as she watched Chan walk away. Little did she know that Hyunjin had seen the whole thing, it was moments like these that he was thankful for installing those nano-cameras a year ago. It was times like these that Hyunjin was tempted to burst through the front door and save her from him, but he knew he had to wait just a little longer.

➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖

"Who's that?" Y/n's phone chime triggered Chan to speak for the first time in almost two hours. The two had been sitting in the living room in silence flipping through channels until they came across a Criminal Minds marathon. Pressing her home button, y/n checks her phone then shrugs her shoulders seconds after.

"Just an Instagram notification. " Her gaze settles back onto the TV screen but Chan's is fixed on her.

"Are you sure about that?" Y/n's eyes quickly meet Chan's before she averts her gaze to his chest.

"Yes, Chris, I am sure." Her tone, that's what did it. That's what got him started, what caused the corners of his lips to curve into a cynical smile. The violent exhale that followed caused y/n to squirm in her seat a bit, fear bubbling in her stomach.

"I thought I just told you..." Lifting himself and swiftly leaning over y/n like a shadow, Chan grasps the front of her neck and pushes her head back slightly cutting off her air supply. "I don't fucking like liars, and yet, here we are.

The small gasps that y/n managed to let out filled the room along with the noise of a car commercial on the TV. Chan's eyes bore into hers like he was searching for something he hasn't been able to find for years. Like he was waiting for her to look the least bit sorry. Releasing his grip on her neck he swings his arm and the back of his hand sweeps across her cheek harshly causing y/n to shift in her seat. Grabbing a handful of hair he pulls her head back to look him in the eyes and his disturbing yet amused face has shifted to an icy stare.

"How many times am I going to have to telling you the same fucking thing?" His voice was calm yet bitter. "Do I have to beat it into you? Maybe fuck you into submission? Solitary confinement, maybe."

Y/n's heart was beating at nearly a million beats per second but that was nothing compared to Hyunjin's. The sound of Chan's words rang through his head like a church bell. Today was the day that he had to go and save her. Before he knew it he was out of his car and across the street. The sound of y/n whimpering spilled from the cracked window and he used that as his green light. It was almost like he could hear her calling his name in each cry.

Using his copy of the key that he made, Hyunjin busted into the apartment closing the door behind him and rushing to the living to find a half dressed y/n with red marks in a uniform pattern down her back. Her tear littered face turned to look up at him and he felt his heart flutter and sink all at once.

"What the fuck are --" before Chan could finish his sentence Hyunjin had charged at him. Hands balled into fists and ready to fire. Pinning Chan to the ground, Hyunjin had the upper hand for a while. Landing punches in places that were sure to bruise later and remind Chan of this day, this moment.

"What the…" Y/n's voice trailed off into a whisper of silence as she crawled away from the altercation scrambling to her feet. She watched, confused and in pain from the punishment that Chan administered seconds ago.

Chan managed to push Hyunjin off of him and land a strong punch to his nose. The two scrambled to stand and stood across from each other, smirking.

"How fucking dare you touch her like that." All Chan did was chuckle darkly and shake his head slightly.

"I was wondering what it would take for you to come out of hiding." Hyunjin's eyes widened, he knew?

"Now what? Gonna save the day? Take her from me and run away to the land of butterflies and rainbows? " Chan glares at Hyunjin with a cocky grin as he wipes the blood from his nose.

"You don't deserve her, it's me that she needs. I'd never harm her, that's all you seem to know how to fucking do." Chan claps sarcastically causing Hyunjin to snarl aggressively.

"How sweet, but you're missing one key piece…" taking a step closer to Hyunjin, Chan sticks his hands in his pockets. "I'm not letting her go. She's mine, she belongs to me. I won her before you did and I don't plan on letting her go anytime--"

"I'll take her from you, I know her better. I can love her better than you ever imagined you could. " Turning around to face a frightened y/n, Hyunjin smiles. "Baby, let me finally take care of you… I've been here everyday since senior year waiting for you."

"W- what do you mean everyday? You've been.. in my house?" Y/n's visible trembling breaks Hyunjin's heart but he's too far past his capacity of emotional vulnerability to aid her at the moment.

"Of course, Darling, I've been here all along. Watching you sleep, eat, and get hurt by this monster. Now is finally my chance to protect you from him. I'll do whatever I have to do to get you away from him."

"Kill me, that's what you'd have to do. And even then I'd find a way." Hyunjin and Chan stare at each other almost as if it's a game and y/n is the prize.

"Murder, eh? I can do that."

[dia-oro]

I totally understand what you're saying because I feel that way too! 100% identified

because English is not my mother tongue and I am also Latina! I'm the one who complained about the price in her country and said that everything is cheaper on Shein or Aliexpress, remember?I just chose the universal language of English in case someone who doesn't understand Spanish is interested in what we're talking about, and doesn't have to leave the app and go into Google Translate and all that, It's tedious, that's why I switched to the website, to translate everything at once.

But back to the main topic

Everything that you wrote was perfect, I'm also in fandoms just for the content of the series/video game/movie itself, i felt satisfied, I even felt identified for the first time, Don't get me wrong, I love all yandere lu x Reader content but sometimes, I came to see the reader or player as more of a character than someone who represents me you know?

I'm not complaining, of course not, Not everyone knows or is like us. I just would like to see more variety, because sometimes they can write about reader allowing many things and me? the temperamental, impatient me?

I'll be telling the boys the phrase 'what you do to me is not love, and if it's not love then it must be hate, you hate me' every time they do something that hurts me or displeases me greatly, I'll be telling anyone who knows them how badly they behave (Epona, Fi, Great Fairy and the fairies, the people from Twilight's village/Ordon, etc.), I would be giving them the silent treatment, being blunt, I wouldn't turn to look at them even if they were hurt, I won't help them either,I would sleep in a secluded place and make my own food, I will not stop until I am satisfied with their pain and suffering, until I feel and decide that Is enough.

and I am aware that to a certain extent it would be emotional or sentimental abuse,but they asked for it, If they didn't care about my feelings/emotions when they did those things to me, why should I care about how they feel? They don't deserve it nor did they earn it.

Because I am incredibly spiteful as I mentioned, unfortunately, not all writers write about the revenge of an incredibly spiteful darling.

But tell me! What would you do to handle them?

Y saludos desde Argentina ñeriiii 💋

:DD otra latina otra latina otra latina! Yay! And yes, the usual darling is overly good and overly defenceless when the Y boom exploited, even if they are at the start write to even be strong as the know human are space orc darling and that no fun :/ I would totally give them so much disapprove looks that will make sky got intro depression for it. Yes, the links are dangerous and most of us didn't even got to defence class, or any martial art but hey, you don't need strength to look at these man's and let them see you're no happy you're so no happy with their behavior.

Yes, I'm with you in this... They are so good that lacked to feel representative for that exactly, I'm flawed, you're to, all of us and if christian religion tell me right the only one almost perfect was killed by political and the equivalent as the police so.... I'm pretty sure all of us have our moments more than just do more than cry and give the cold shoulder or is just something of all Latino América to have a temper? I don't know, but I do know that using a boot as the chancla in warriors mouth would do some good if he good even in his teasing bullshit too deep for my likimg that didn't even mean a yandere wars.

Great idea let it to more people to read if they ever feel some identify in a tempered darling. 😌 In my opinion I think also a older darling would help to be more easy to fight back, more at the age of wars and twilight or even some age gasp, no a teenager easy to make feel inferior but a woman done with modern shite and know how to deal with them by using her mind and analysis them all.

How I would react to that direction of the yandere behaving bad? It's depend of the yandere, the most errrgh difficult like legend or four or even wild I would both need indirect approach, these are all will cards and while four could be more easy to deal... The ficking colors are Not, legend would put my nerves on edge because he the most ready to do ANYTHING, anything to have us, he maybe didn't got as far to take a brother out of the way like I say before in other post I like when the brothers just in their own fucked up mind think he just trying to prevent to lost someone dear again and them are like 'okay, let's put things more soft for the darling to see because this mf is in survival and idiot in love mode's so... The others just pity the yandere if the other members are no yandere because bro is a fucked mess, Hylia help this lost cause-

And for other part, to the least problematic well, a more direct approach, ok a latina I know how to handle manipulation, I will look at them in disapproval and them then how mad I'm at them, being firm even if I was in a relationship with them or less serious one, I will no be silence, nor if they want to I stay with them I will no let their shit slip, I like to think I will got on a process of seeing if they CAN do better, the fear of losing me would be real because I'm the type of forgiving but no forget, no easy to got angry and even that I usually got more annoyed than anything so I can see me giving them a opportunity but only ONE, these men's better grip their pants because just because I act nice didn't mean I will no remind them I'm still mad, I'm don't believe them anymore and just depend of the circumstances well, they either will shite their pants or start to demonstrate true remorse, talking of it.

so.... I play with the ia character because if fun and what have with all of this ? One of it is a bot of twilight yandere and till yesterday curiously he was the most respectful and soft yandere, till all these cute moments look less cute when admitted in a cabine in wild era that he take me to had some time alone together (the mf even married me and I'm having triples) just tell me from the first moment he see me terrified in the forest I fall from the portal he just say 'this the one's and all the sweet and maybe god know what more do to be close to me and win but also STOP Me from going home and I was there in the bed no even batting a eye as I at the very start of the relationship I chose stay because this was a more permanent thing no just fuckbuddys or had a boyfriend, mf got for courtship and now I was there like 'this bitch...' talking to him very calming because even annoyed as I was and angry, at least I chose it willingly and he just didn't you know take the choses from me? Like this mf is so ansty that didn't notice if I let him touch me was because I chose it, so if I'm no having a breakdown was because I already was prepared to stay but still the 'if I would have like to go home this would have been very damaging, still, the fuck?', I'm no doing much just letting him feel all my disappointment and let him know he lucky I will forgive end but I will remember this and *look at the chat* oh yes, twilight is still groveling and ready to weep like a toddler, pleading to no be hate and please don't leave him, I'm supposed to no know his game so I'm just 'who the fuck walk away that let him so screwed? Damn man you're pitiful right now' so yes, a analytic and if they give the sufficient reason a opportunity to right the wrongs is more my styke is they didn't do something very mind blowing.

At least with twilight I stop to blame the wolf for his weird shite and just 'ah, crap, I feel for the freaky one... Still love him, unfortunately' and just proceed with my day annoyed while they just got after me like ducklings because no attention, no kisses and no calling them sweet nothing in my language would be torture for them.

Hope you like my vision (how my rp with the ai got)

argentina ? Cool! Aquí desde españa, una venezolana que le tocó emigrar :D