#i may or may not be accepting constructive criticism at this time

[ineloquent-tumbling]

I have finally gotten around to reading the second arc of the Mistborn series, and my main takeaway so far is thus:

Lady Steris Harms is an autistic queen and deserves the world.

[wtfaniii]

Req for a Hwang In-ho os with kind off parenting scenarios like what if by mistake a toddler was brought to the games and he ends up in the caretaker roll (and yes he gives off daddy vibes ya know !)

God I loved this one, I feel like him would be great protector.

¿What if...? a little girl entered the games

little girl x Hwang In-ho father figure

Summary: Your eleven-year-old self is taken to an island believing you'll be a little entertainment.

Warning: In-ho may not be that attached to the original character ¡this man will be a big hug bear here!

Note: I do my best to answer the rest of the requests, thanks for your support!! And if I make a mistake I accept constructive criticism!

You lived alone on the street, you didn't know anything about your parents and every day was a struggle until one day you saw a man in a suit playing Ddakji with another person, when you saw that he gave money as a reward if you beat him quickly went to him.

At first he ignored you and walked away with you right behind him but you were so persistent that after walking a few blocks he finally turned to with a raised eyebrow.

You played with him and won every time, received money and a card to continue playing for more money.

You didn't owe anything, he knew that, but he thought he was doing you a favor by opening the doors to the slaughterhouse, maybe it would be better than you continuing to sleep in a box and eat leftover food.

"She's going to die anyway, I'm just making her suffering shorter" thought the salesman.

What he didn't know is that a certain man would take a liking to you as soon as he saw you.

You played "green light, red light" and managed to get through without a scratch, you were scared but Gi-hun made sure to keep you safe during this game.

—¡They are bastards! ¡They brought a little girl for the love of God! —456 screamed to the sky as the ceiling loomed over their heads, the other player 390 covered your eyes so you wouldn't see all the carnage they left behind in the first round.

Meanwhile... The Front Man's firm footsteps echoed through the hallways as he made his way to the control booth, when he arrived, he spoke in a voice that chilled the blood of his employees.

—¿Who let her in?

He knew the salesman, he knew the heartless idiot had no empathy for even a puppy but the fact that these guards had dressed you up and put you in that arena gave him a headache.

When he was given the number of the one who allowed you to get into the first game, he personally took it upon himself to put a bullet in him head.

He thought about getting you out immediately but considering the fact that he would also be infiltrating there and how after that massacre you were playing and talking non-stop with 390 and 456 as if nothing had happened, he let you continue but this time under his personal supervision.

It was quite easy for him to infiltrate and join Gi-hun, keeping his enemy close would be very useful but he also kept his eyes on you.

—Eat this too —In-ho handed you his can of food when he saw how quickly you had finished the rice, sausage and egg.

—No thanks —The smile you gave him almost made his hard heart beat—You should eat too, but if you insist so much you can give me the sausages.

You finished with a smile, to which he returned the gesture and gave you part of his portion.

During the night he took care of covering you with the blanket so that you wouldn't be cold and of laying you in bed next to him in case you had a nightmare, but to his surprise and that of your new friends, you slept all night without interruptions.

When it was time to go to the next game, In-ho kept you by his side so that you would be on his team with Gi-hun.

His team made it to the end so he wasn't worried if they lost, if they did neither you nor he would have died and there would be no witnesses.

He would break just a few of the rules to stay you alive.

Every time some players were eliminated, you covered your ears and closed your eyes tightly, something that moved him so much that he also distracted you by talking to you every time the guards removed the bodies to prevent you from seeing all that show of death and blood.

After the second vote Jung-bae was sorry for choosing the circle so he apologized to you and Jun-hee.

—It's okay, as long as we're together ¡we'll win! —You said with a beaming smile as Young-il ruffled your hair in excitement.

The day seemed long in there, but you didn't get bored with Young-il. He told you some children's stories and played with you.

However, when you were playing with the empty milk carton you accidentally hit the back of player 100.

—Oops, sorry sir —You said politely, reaching out to grab the little box from the floor, but before you could do so, he stepped on it hard, stepping on two of your fingers of the hand in the process.

Your cry of pain caught In-ho's immediate attention, he cut off the conversation he was having with Gi-hun and went to you.

—¡¿How is it possible that you are still alive?! ¡You are just a little brat!

In-ho effortlessly picked you and hug against his chest.

With just one look he silenced the man, it wasn't a warning, it was a threat, that man had hurt you and he would make sure him paid the consequences, not now, but he would definitely suffer.

—I told you not to stray too far from me —He said as he walked back to his place with the others.

You just nodded still with tears in your eyes and hugging him by the neck, he left you on the bed and took your hand to analyze the damage.

—You didn't hurt yourself much, you'll be better after pouring cold water on yourself in the bath —He said trying to calm you down, he dried the tears from your cheeks and kissed your forehead, it was an act he did on impulse and it even surprised himself a little.

"You'll be a great father" Gi-hun told him when you were sleeping, which was strange, the last time he heard that was when his wife talked to him about starting a family, he silently thanked but deep down he felt different, as if you had been able to reach the light inside him, a light he had considered extinct.

During the third game he stayed close to you, every time it was time to team up and run into a room he made sure to hold your hand.

Until the time came to form a team of four, there were many in his group so you and he separated, the counter reached zero and In-ho managed to get you two into a room and close it.

—But we're missing two —You said somewhat nervously and scared while the shots rang out from outside.

—Listen to me —In-ho knelt in front of you and held your shoulders —I need you to keep this a secret,

He gave a quick glance to the camera in the corner, they weren't going to kill them even if they cheated but now he needed no one else to find out about this.

—But it's cheating... —You murmured, confused and still a little scared.

—Promise me you won't say anything about this, not to Gi-hun or the others.

You nodded silently, you didn't say anything and that, without knowing it, would cost the lives of some of your friends.

That same night, there was a rebellion organized by 456.

You wanted to go with them, believing yourself strong enough to help them, but Young-il opposed it.

—I'm not going to let you come with us—He said firmly as he took you by the hand and led you back to the rest of the players —It's dangerous, you will stay with them until we return.

He left you in the hands of 149, 222 and 007, the older woman was the one who had the most empathy for you so In-ho knew you would be fine until his guards came for you.

[...]

After returning to his place as Front man, he sent a group of guards to control the rest of the players in the room and get you out of there.

"Player 398, you must come with us" when you heard that and saw the guards coming towards you, you hugged 149, you were scared, after all you were a girl and didn't know what was happening.

Geum-ja also held you tightly to prevent you from being taken away but it was useless, In-ho was surprised by how you won the affection of her, Jun-hee, Hyun-ju and Myung-gi to the point that they were able to stand up to his soldiers.

As were led through the colorful hallways you bit the hand of one of the pink guards and kicked the other to escape, you had spent entire short life on the streets so escaping was one of your skills, the first thing you did was call some of your friends, including Young-il.

But there came a time when you started to cry, believing that they were dead and you sat on the ground, you remained there scared and worried until once again two guards found you, this time accompanied by a man dressed in grey and a black mask.

When you looked up, he could see your watery eyes and red nose, which made his affection for you grow and not caring about his own rules about secret identity, he took off his mask and crouched down to be at your level.

He didn't know what to say to you, how to handle this situation in which you were so confused and overwhelmed, so when you hugged him he just returned the gesture and got up from the floor with you.

—It's okay, you're going to be fine —He whispered to you calmly while caressing your hair.

In-ho didn't know anything about being a father, he hadn't thought about being one since his wife died but he would do everything possible to take care of you from now on, for a few seconds he thought about sending you with Jun-ho and his mother but he preferred not to, besides, you didn't want to leave him alone for even a second.

He would teach you how to use weapons and defend yourself, he would also try to get you to accompany him everywhere or remain under surveillance, you quickly became a weakness so the safer you are the safer he will be too.

He didn't explain everything to you in detail, much less what role he had in these games, he believed that you wouldn't forgive him so the less you know the better for you, but you weren't stupid, the life you had before meeting him made you analyze things better than many others.

You knew that whatever his job was, it wasn't good but you didn't judge him or talk to him.

To you, he was like your father and that would make you defend him tooth and nail from anyone who wanted to hurt him.

In case Gi-hun ends the games, Jun-ho would probably take responsibility for you and let you visit In-ho in prison, (when you're older, you'll probably help him escape and move to another continent).

But if not, you will probably be given the front man position when you grow up because you are trained enough by this man, you will be calculating and probably a younger, female version of him.

N/A: Ok, I hope this is what you expected and thanks for this idea!

I honestly think In-ho wouldn't canonically take responsibility for a child, maybe he would protect sometimes like 222, but I don't think he would care afterwards, that man is beyond help 😭

[theangeltopaz]

“TEDDY BEAR.”

SYNOPSIS. You finally decide to take Whitney on a proper date. Of course, as all things with Whitney do, it evolves into something more. WC. 4.9k

CONTENT. SubBot!Whitney, DomTop!Reader, amab reader, implied taller reader, pre-established relationship, smoking, soft sex, dacryphilia, praise (char. receiving), Whitney has tongue and nipple piercings, unprotected sex, anal, fingering, spit as lube, oral (char. receiving), overstimulation, cum eating, exhibitionism? (yall do it with the window open, but i was picturing it as a screened window that just led to a backyard so)

AUTHOR’S NOTE. This was definitely an excuse to write sub Whit. I fucking love a Whitney that’s a loser for his boyfriend, if you couldn’t tell. Might be ooc Whit. Partially inspired by @hellsslibrary ‘s headcanons. Please be merciful if this is bad, as I’ve never written smut and I haven’t written fanfic in a while. Also I’m acearo and a virgin, so we’ll see how this goes. I may end up writing a hard dom reader in the future, but for now take soft dom reader. I wrote the majority of this whilst listening to Mitski. Constructive criticism and tips are very much accepted and appreciated!

If you choose to click ‘Keep Reading’, you are consenting to reading smut.

Yeah, this date was probably the smartest idea you’ve had in a while. Or Sydney had. 

Because now you were cuddling a soft Whitney after sex.

Pretty nice, ain’t it?

       Let’s go back to when this started. You were in the library with Sydney, absentmindedly picking up books and admiring the cover or reading the synopsis. “Syd, do you know of any good date spots? I feel like Whit and I haven’t gone on a proper date in a while.”

       Sydney probably wasn’t the best person to ask this, considering the fact that you’re pretty sure he’s never been on a date. But you guys were close friends, so who else were you supposed to ask?

       “I mean, if I were to go on a date, we would probably go for a walk near the temple-“ he started.

       “No temple.” 

       “Fine. No temple. Uhm, you could go to the park-“

       “We have been to the park. Many times.”

       “Right, I forgot about that,” he said, recalling some of the tales of your… escapades with Whitney in the park. “Uhm, the arcade?”

       “…We have an arcade?”

       “Yeah…?”

       “Okay, thanks so so much Syd.  You’re a lifesaver,” you said, beginning to walk away. You then realized something and turned back around. “Where exactly is the arcade?”

       He laughed a little. “I’ll send you the address.”

       Your shoes squeaked against the hallway tile as you walked. Entering the cafeteria, you took in the many lunch tables. “Where the fuck is Whitney?” you mumbled to yourself. Which was reasonable, considering the fact that you saw Whitney’s friends, the ones you so despised, but not Whitney himself. You needed to talk to him about that date idea Syd had given you yesterday. Now that you thought about it, you didn’t see him in math class either. Sometimes you feel like pulling a Kylar and putting a tracker on Whitney. Once again, reasonable considering you never seemed to know where he was. Maybe he was skipping school, but wouldn’t his friends be with him? You got out your phone to text the blonde. Strange. You had one unread message from him, sent this morning.

       “There you are, slut,” someone said, grabbing your wrist. You slipped your phone into your pocket and let the person lead you. Of course, you knew immediately who that someone was, considering their voice and choice of a vulgar nickname.

       “Hello to you, too, Whitney,” you responded. You didn’t question where he was dragging you, much to his surprise. Instead, you decided to inquire about something else. “Where have you been?”

       “Don’t worry about that,” he grumbled. Did you always look this pretty? Why did you always worry about him?

       “Where are we going?”

       “Shut up, slut.” Nevermind. You asked too many questions.

       “Okay, fine.”

       Whitney pushed you into the bathroom and locked the door. It’s clear that his actions are fueled by lust. He pressed you against the wall with his own body. He’s been thinking about this, about you since this morning. “Did you not see what I texted you?” he asked, seething with both anger and desire.

       “No? I actually try to pay attention in class,” you said, rolling your eyes. Whitney often found himself hating that you actually tried in school, because that’s more time you spend in the library and less with him.

       “Whatever, slut,” Whitney said, then he pulled you down and pressed his lips to yours. Finally, he got what he was waiting for. The kiss was rough, deep, desperate. You wrapped an arm around his waist, whilst your other hand traced up and down his spine. You were always so gentle and rough at the same time. He wasn’t usually this needy for you, but sometimes Whitney’s mind got the better of him.

       The blonde continued pressing up against you and you continued kissing him. One of your hands trailed from Whitney’s back to his jaw. You tilted his head up to make this a little easier for yourself. In turn, the kiss grew more forceful. Your hand on his jaw moved behind his head, gripping on his hair roughly. He groaned in response to your treatment. Fuck, why did you always do this to him?

       You bit down not-so-gently on his bottom lip. The oh-so-scary Whitney let out a goddamn low whine and opened his mouth. You pushed your tongue into his mouth, forcing his jaw to open wider. His own tongue slid into your mouth, the cold metal of his tongue piercing brushing over your tongue. The blonde could taste something saccharine on your tongue, a taste that was so distinctly you. Whitney could feel himself losing any train of thought. He hated that you always knew how to make his head feel fuzzy and his body feel warm. He started leaning on you, relying on you for support.

       You broke the kiss, only to ask,“Was this what that text was about?” You were seriously choosing now of all times to start talking to him? “Hurry up, slut,” Whitney muttered as he grabbed onto your hair, making you moan. You pulled the blonde’s head back by his hair and latched onto his jaw. You made your way down his jaw and neck, sucking hard, just how he liked it. He was sure his neck would be purple tomorrow, if not just later. You licked over a certain spot, your teeth grazing over it. He whined again (how did you always know how to make him whine?) and just as you were about to bite down…

       The bell rang. You rolled your eyes, obviously annoyed, and pulled back.

       “Keep going, slut,” Whitney grumbled, looking up at you and glaring. Since when did you stop because of the bell? It wouldn’t be the first time you both had gotten in trouble for skipping class to fuck.

       “I’d rather not get detention, considering the fact that we have plans after school,” you responded. Plans?

       “The fuck do you mean we ‘have plans’?”

       “I’m taking you on an actual date, for once. To the arcade.”

       “…Why?”

       “When was the last time we went on an actual date?“

       “…Fine.” Whitney hated to admit it, but you had a point. It had been a while since your last date. And, he could use this as an excuse to get you to come home with him and finish where you left off…

       “Okay, baby. Love you.” You always insisted on being so affectionate, not that he minded.

       “Shut up, slut,” Whitney muttered, “Love you too.” He could feel a hint of red in his cheeks. His body was betraying him at the worst possible moment right now.

       You laughed. Fuck, your smile was gorgeous. Did your voice always sound that good? Maybe he was going insane. “See you after class, Whit,” you said, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead and walking away. He let you leave. He couldn’t help but look forward to tonight.

       Jesus fucking Christ, Whitney hated it here. As soon as the final bell rang, he was out of class. He could see you chatting with Sydney as you walked out of the doors. Little did he know that you were really just trying to keep your eye out for a certain blonde that you so adored. 

       Sydney wished you goodbye as he started walking away, probably to the temple. You were still looking for Whitney.

       “Hey slut.” You seemed caught off guard by the sudden appearance of the person you were looking for. You intertwined your hand with his. “Hey, Whit.” You pressed a kiss to his forehead for the second time today. Whitney could pretend he hated how soft you were with him, but you could always make him melt. Sure , he liked when you were rough too, but with your gentle kisses and your reverent way of touching him and the pleasant nights you spent together… God, his thoughts were trailing again. He could feel himself turning red.

       “What are you thinking about, Whit? You’re blushing a lot,” you said smugly, pulling Whitney out of his thoughts. Fuck you and his perceptiveness. You were unfairly good at reading him.

       “Shut up, slut. Are we going or not?” the blonde said, attempting to change the subject. Anything to get you to stop talking about him. Otherwise, Whitney might end up begging on his knees for you to fuck him. And he did not beg.

       “Okay, okay.” Whitney watched you take out your phone. Your background was a photo you took of you and him, back when you had first started dating. You had managed to get him to begrudgingly do a hand heart with you and you were so proud of that moment that you made it your wallpaper. As much as Whitney didn’t want to admit it, he liked that photo.

       You opened your messages with Sydney and plugged the address that he gave you into your maps. He felt you tug his hand and you both started walking in the direction of the arcade.

       “It really has been forever since we went on an actual date,” you said, sounding rather excited. Whitney could tell that even if you sounded eager, you were just trying to occupy the silence. If he was being honest, and as much as he did like your voice, he was content to just admire you, to trace your features with his eyes, and to think about everything you could do to him… Fuck, his thoughts were trailing again.

       “Yeah, it has,” Whitney said in response, sounding completely out of it. Probably because he was.

       “You feeling okay? You’ve been zoning out a lot.” You sounded concerned. You were always worrying about him, caring for him. God, even in the bedroom, you were so… sweet. He was blushing again. You really had made your way into his heart. You had the first day you both met.

       “I’m feeling fine, M/N.”

       “Hm, you didn’t call me ‘slut’ for once.”

       Whitney smiled a little. “Don’t think too much of it, slut.”

       You smiled in turn and said. “You’re so pretty when you smile genuinely.”

       The arcade was a short walk from the school, probably to attract students who just got off. You don’t know how you didn’t know about it. Your steps transitioned from loud to almost silent as you went from the dull sidewalk to the colorful carpet of the arcade. There were people everywhere and screens flashing with various game titles. It was filled with the buzz of laughter and noise from various machines. You looked at Whitney, meeting his eyes. “Where do you want to start?”

       “Hm…” He smirked and dragged you to one of those two-person shooter games. “Here.”

       “Alright!” 

       You both sat down in the seats provided for the game and you slid some money in the machine. While the beginning cutscene played and you watched, Whitney was staring at you. He knew you liked these sorts of games and he liked how focused you got during them. The light from the screen highlighted your facial features and the grin on your face. 

       As the actual game started, you immediately delved right in and started shooting the black tar monsters. Whitney snapped out his trance and started playing too. You both easily passed through the first few rounds of the game. There were points where you had to revive each other, but you both were having fun. When you both had finally died without being able to revive, you had accumulated a ton of tickets. 

       Whitney wasn’t focused on that, though. The look of joy and determination on your face was his entertainment right now. He loved how you looked when you were focused. After the game, you looked at Whitney with an emotion in your eyes that could only be called adoration. “You lead the way, Whit.”

       By the time you both were done, you'd played almost every game in the arcade. Right now, Whitney was watching you as you concentrated on a claw machine. You were trying to line up the claw perfectly to win Whitney a teddy bear. Of course, you knew of his collection of plushies, so you were determined to win this for him.

       Whitney, of course, was more preoccupied with looking at you. For the millionth time today, he thought about your face now and compared it to the way you acted in the bedroom. He loved when you focused solely upon him, when you fixated upon pleasuring him. The way your eyes and hands and mouth ran over him… You were probably the best lover he’d ever known, with the way you treated him. He was far from ready to admit that, though.

       Your laugh brought the blonde out of his thoughts. Whitney watched as you bent down—he hardly resisted the urge to slap your ass—and excitedly grabbed the teddy bear you had been trying so hard to get for him. You handed it to him triumphantly, saying,“For you, baby.” You pressed a kiss to his forehead, then his nose, then to his mouth. He, shockingly, let you get through all three before (lightly) shoving you off him.

       “Thanks, slut,” he muttered. He was blushing and clutching onto the teddy bear tightly.

       “So, what are you thinking we do with the tickets?” you said, grinning at his flustered expression.

       You ended up buying another plushie for Whitney and some candy with the tickets you both collected. He was laying his head in your lap as you sat in Whit’s bed and passed back and forth a cigarette. Whitney was holding onto the teddy bear you won him. The sun was starting to set outside and casted a golden glow on the room, making it look like the confession scene of an 80s romcom. The first wisps of the cool night air passed through the open window.

       Whitney could feel you gently trace the line of his jaw as he breathed in smoke from his cigarette. He tilted his head toward your touch. You were looking at him with that look in your eyes again, the one he had seen many times before. That look of pure love. You were the only one to ever look at him that way. As much as Whitney loved your affection, he didn’t know how he deserved it.

       The blonde breathed the smoke out, and clumsily sat up in your lap whilst still holding the bear. He straddled your lap, each of his legs bordering your hips. The golden rays of sunlight hit your features perfectly and reflected in your eyes, which met his. Although the room was silent, a thousand words were spoken in that moment.

       Whitney brought the cigarette to your lips. You closed your eyes and breathed in deeply as you continued to trace his face. Whitney pulled the cigarette away from your face as you exhaled. The smoke framed your head like a halo. It was almost ironic, because, in Whitney’s eyes, you were simultaneously so close and so far from being an angel. You were compassionate and affectionate, but you could be downright sinful with your gentle hands and honeyed kisses.

       Whitney inhaled from the cigarette again. This time, before exhaling, he connected your lips. He breathed the smoke into your mouth. You pulled back and breathed out.

       Whitney extinguished the cigarette, before reconnecting your lips. You kissed him back with a certain reverence. Earlier, your kisses were quick and rough. Now, they were sensual and tender. 

       You cradled his face in one hand, whilst the other rested on his hip. Whitney leaned into the gentle caress of your hand as he continued kissing you slowly.

       You broke the kiss with a soft smile. “Relax your jaw for me, yeah?” you had asked in that fucking enticing tone of yours that always compelled him to listen.

       After he nodded, you kissed Whitney again, and he did as you asked of him. You pushed your tongue past his soft lips and traced the inside of his mouth with it. Whitney let out a soft groan as he sucked on your tongue. You tasted like the tobacco of the cigarette you had just smoked.

       You pulled back from his lips, causing the blonde to let out a soft whine. “It’s alright, Whit,” you whispered reassuringly, as you started pressing soft kisses to his neck that was already littered with bruises from earlier. Whitney tilted his head up so you could have better access. Your mouth caressed his skin continuously, occasionally nibbling or licking him a little. Your persistence caused the blonde to let out soft moans of pleasure, which got a little louder when you bit down a little harder.

       Your hands moved to the buttons of Whit’s shirt. You asked, once again in that soft tone of yours,“Do you want to go further?”

       Whitney nodded his head, muttering a soft ‘yes.’ His brain was a little too fuzzy to focus on words right now. He still held on to the teddy bear you won him, fidgeting with its fur as you unbuttoned his shirt.

       As soon as you undid the last button, you slipped the shirt off him. “You’re always so pretty, Whit.” Whitney blushed at your shameless admiration of his body. You looked at him like an angel fallen to earth.

       You flipped your positions, making Whitney lie down on the bed with you over him. His body hit the mattress with a silent ‘umph’. You resumed pressing kisses to his body, this time to his torso. Your mouth ran over his collarbone, before moving down to his chest. 

       Your tongue flicked over the cold metal piercing in one of his nipples, whilst your hand came up to play with the other one. He moaned and shivered at the just feeling of your touch, the sensation going straight to his dick. Fuck, his head was spinning and you had hardly don’t anything.

       Whitney arched his back up into your stimulation of his chest. You switched, sucking on the other bud whilst you rolled the one you were sucking on between your index finger and thumb. “More…!” Whitney moaned. He was pretty sure you knew his body better than he did, as you knew how to pleasure every sensitive spot that made him so vocal.

       After you were sure you had given each of his tits equal attention, you pulled off. Whitney tried to seem angry at you, but he just ended up whining instead.

       “Mm, it’s okay, Whit. I’m gonna take care of you.” Whitney looked up at you, meeting your eyes. You looked at him softly, like he meant the world to you.

       You slipped off your shirt, throwing it somewhere behind you. Whitney traced a hand over your torso, the other still clutching the bear, as you made him spread his legs a bit wider. He let out a low moan when you gripped his thighs and slipped one of your legs against his crotch.

       Your hands moved to the waistband of his pants, and your fingers traced the line where skin met fabric. “Hurry up, slut…” he muttered, but there was no malice behind it.

       “Alright,” you whispered against the skin of his neck, causing him to shudder against you. “You’re planning on holding onto the bear?”

       Whitney silently nodded his head, too embarrassed to admit it out loud.

       “Okay, baby.” You unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, slipping them off his legs. You thumbed at the edge of his boxers and cupped his dick through it, causing Whit to whine. Why were you choosing now of all times to be unfair? You laughed a little at his whine, biting down gently on the junction between his neck and shoulder whilst massaging his tip through his boxers. “Agh- please…” Whitney moaned. He then blushed, realizing he was practically begging for your affection. He attempted to hid his face in the bear his was still holding.

       “Patience, Whit,” you said, but proceeded to contradict yourself and gave him what he wished for anyway. You slipped your fingers under the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down all the way. His dick slapped against his stomach, already dripping pearlescent precum.

       “You never fail to take my breath away, baby.” You and your dulcet words often left Whitney desperate and wanting. With the way you looked at him, one could have sworn the blonde had hung the stars by hand. 

       You slipped off the rest of your own clothing as quickly as you could, revealing your own hard cock. Once completely stripped, you caressed both of Whitney’s thighs and brought his legs to wrap around your waist. Your gentle touch had him feel like he was floating.

       Your fingers traced up Whitney’s dick, collecting beads of precum that had dripped down. “P-please! need you…” he moaned, clutching on tightly to the teddy bear. Whitney’s usual facade slipped only a little when he was with you normally, but during sex, you stripped him down with your persistent hands and unwavering gaze.

       “I know, Whit, I’ve got you.” You brought your fingers, which were lightly coated in Whitney’s own fluids, to his mouth. He parted his lips, allowing you to push two of your fingers in. The blonde whimpered at his own salty taste and the inherent intimacy of consuming his precum from your fingers. He sucked on them, swirling his tongue as you scissored the digits in his mouth. He looked at you wordlessly, but you knew him well enough to tell he was begging for more.

       You pushed a third finger in his mouth, thrusting in and out. Once you determined that your fingers were wet enough, you removed them from Whitney’s lips. You brought the digits back down to his pelvis, grazing his flushed tip teasingly, before bringing them to his ass.

       “Please…” Whitney muttered. He looked up at you with desperation in his gaze in an attempt to get you to conform to his whims.

       “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” you whispered. Two of your fingers breached the tight ring of muscles, aided by Whitney’s saliva, and began to stretch him out. You thrusted the digits in and out him, scissoring occasionally.

       This contributed to the loss of Whitney’s already slipping control, as he was already having trouble forming coherent thoughts. He attempted to bite back a moan when he felt you slip a third finger in him.

       “Taking it so well, hm? I wanna hear you. You’ve been so good for me so far, you’ll get something better soon, Whit,” you said, your voice a bit gruff with arousal. You continued thrusting your fingers into Whitney, drawing more moans and whines from him.

       Deeming him stretched out enough, you pulled your fingers out of Whitney. He whined at the sudden emptiness and clenched around nothing.

       “What did I say, Whitney? You’ll get something better soon.” You used any remaining liquid on your fingers to slick up your own dick, before lining your tip up. You tilted his hips up a bit for better access and pushed the tip in.

       Whitney keened. You groaned, saying,“Fuck, you’re still tight. Relax for me, okay? Don’t want this to hurt.” He listened to you, relaxing his muscles a bit. Although he was still a little tense, Whitney was loose enough that you could push in deeper.

       You grabbed onto his hips, tightly enough to bruise, as you finally bottomed out, causing both Whitney and yourself to moan. The blonde’s breathing was labored, and sweat was beading on his brow. You filled him up so well. He clutched the bear tightly to his chest in an attempt to ground himself. “God, you feel so good Whit. So pretty for me. I’m gonna move now, okay?” 

       Whitney nodded in response, already struggling to form words. He gasped as you began to pull out of him and thrusted right back in. You began with a slow pace, much to Whitney’s disappointment.

       As you continued at that slow pace, Whitney’s desperation brought him to tears. He felt so close to cumming, yet so far. “Please…” he sobbed, finally breaking completely down,“Need more…” He held on tightly to the teddy bear, staining it with his tears.

       Seeing Whitney cry only led to more arousal on your part. “Fuck, Whit, you look so good, taking me so well. I’ve got you.” He whined at your praise. 

       You started to pound into him faster, finally doing what Whitney wanted you to. When you began to thrust into his prostate head on, he practically screamed and came without warning. His neediness surely contributed to his quick orgasm too. You groaned at the feeling of him clenching around you. The white liquid coated his stomach, some of it (unfortunately) getting on the bear. 

       However, when you went even faster—fueled by the lust seeing him cry brought you—Whitney started wailing more. One of his hands still held the teddy bear for comfort, whilst the other dug into the skin of your neck.

       Your extreme pace has Whitney seeing stars. His dick started leaking again when he wasn’t even fully recovered from his last orgasm. “T-too much!” he cried out in overstimulation, tears still slipping from his eyes. 

       “Hm, baby? Do you want me to stop?” You slowed down, sounding concerned. Fuck, you cared so much, it only made him want to cry more.

       “N-no, please, keep going…”

       “Mk, you’ve done so good so far. Just let me know if it gets to be too much.” You resumed your fast pace, the sound of skin slapping echoing through the room, although you made sure to go a little bit slower now. 

       Whitney’s face was completely flushed with crystalline tears dripping down. Your praise only increased the rush of blood throughout his body. He was panting and sweating and he couldn’t speak beyond small phrases or words. 

       Your own hips began to stutter, and you could feel a familiar tightening in your abdomen. “Fuck, Whit, I’m gonna cum.” 

       Whitney hardly processed your groaned words, too lost in his own head. As soon as he felt the warmth of your cum fill him up, he moaned something along the lines of ‘cumming!’ and came for the second time that night. He still held on tightly to the bear.

       You pulled out, much to Whitney’s disappointment. He whined at the sudden emptiness he felt.

       “Hey, I’ve got you. I’m gonna do one more thing and then we can take a bath, okay? Are you alright with that?” 

       Seeing him nod, you lowered your body closer to the mattress, aligning your face with his ass. You pushed his legs up to his and licked a stripe over his hole. You could taste your own salty cum leaking from him.

       Whitney moaned at the feeling of your tongue. Sure, you had eaten him out before, but this was different. He was already really sensitive.

       Your tongue dipped inside Whit, licking up the cum dripping out of him. He whined as your nails dug into his upper thighs, and you continued eating him out like a man starved. You’ve managed to make him hard again with merely a few deep strokes of your tongue. 

       You pressed your own dick against the mattress in an attempt to get yourself off whilst your tongue repeatedly fucked into him. Your hands moved, one now kneading his ass whilst you used the other to get yourself off. 

       Whitney struggled to form a coherent thought. The pleasure you gave him only led to further loss of any sense he might have. All he could was moan and sob your name.

       It didn’t take long for Whitney to orgasm a third time, too fucked out to warn you. Cum spurted from his spent dick, as you licked into him deeply one last time. 

       You pulled off of the blonde and jerked yourself off. After cumming on your hand, you brought it to his mouth for him to clean, which he did obediently.

       “You did so good, baby,” you said, then pressed a chaste kiss to his bruised lips. “Can I clean you now?”

       Once you had Whitney’s nodded approval, you got off the bed and went into his bathroom. You came back with a wet towel, which you used to clean his body.

       You used the rag to wipe down the blonde’s face, which was stained with tears in cum. You cleaned off the parts of the bear that had bits of cum on it. You then cleaned the rest: the lower half of his torso, his thighs, and inside of him.

       Once you finished cleaning him, you cleaned yourself. Whitney watched through glazed eyes as you re-entered the bathroom. You came back and crawled in bed beside him, pulling the covers over you both. You’d decided you’d wait until tomorrow to clean the bedsheets, instead opting to relax with your boyfriend.

       The sun had long set by now, the room only illuminated by serene moonlight. The brisk night breeze floated in through the open window, only blocked by a screen. Your arms were wrapped around Whitney’s waist. He gently dozed against you, small snores escaping him. Whitney could surely be rough and arrogant, but at times like these, he was just as soft as the teddy bear he was still holding.

[yingdu-lover]

"I am not an accessory...I want freedom!" : Li Haolin's critique of the comphet media expectations, toxic entertainment industry and deconstruction of 'heroism' in To Be Bero X episode 2

Disclaimer : There are two more episodes left, and things will go haywire beyond our expectations; interpretations will change. However, I do believe that the core message should not change; the vision Li Haolin has, and I hope people who have watched his previous works recognize this. Li Haolin did say that the core theme remains the same in all To Be Hero works. May I have the pleasure of reminding you that Link Click was previously named 'To Be Hero: Photo'? Yeah. That being said, I should start my yapping.

Note : If you are a Link Clicker and have gone through all the stages of emotional peculiarities when Yingdu was airing, you may have noticed, with a critical lens, that Yingdu was very vocal about the nuances and politics of the entertainment industry. The recurring dialectic between (heteropatriarchal) capitalist consumerism and subversive counter-narratives really makes me happy; it affirms that Li Haolin is a political artist.

TBHX had a massive worldwide release; of course, it is aimed at an international audience, but I am sure that releasing TBHX a short period after Yingdu's completion was something Li Haolin did purposefully. Probably, it was a deliberate nod to avid Link Click fans to keep thinking intertextually. I took that as a sign.

Link Click and To Be Hero : Photo

(If you wish to skip this section, you can, but you won't be able to understand much when I actually start talking about To Be Hero X. I will draw ample comparisons with these discussions.)

Link Click, especially Yingdu, really deconstructs the concept and construction of 'Hero' and their identity. To quote Li Haolin: Tbhx is not your usual superhero story. It is fundamentally deconstructing the typical popular narratives.

To summarise, Link Click has/shows/raises questions about

1. explicit references to the concept of 'Hero'

2. how heteronormative masculinist capitalism forges the figure of 'Hero'

3. the question of agency : The dichotomy between public and private

4. narrative identity : hero, villain or is it a blur?

5. the 'soft' power of artistic hierarchy : genre and gender

6. the politics of ordinariness in popular culture (the communist propaganda :D)

[Of course, a lot of introductory yapping is about Link Click! It's important! So I am not stopping]

1. explicit references to the concept of 'Hero'

Starting with the 'Hero' (Hero with a capital H) theme, I think the first time we were introduced to Power Rangers-type heroes in Link Click was in the Doudou episode. Oh my God, this was the only episode that really stressed me out. Anyway, the Doudou story hits so hard because it is painfully realistic; it weaves simple yet endearing love with guilt, escapism, patience, helplessness, brutal honesty, and the acceptance of vulnerability, creating an alternative form of 'heroism' that is both funny and poignant at the same time. It is truly one of the most powerful episodes in the entire season 1.

Season 2's 'hero' discourse is more nuanced, so I'll discuss it while addressing the fifth point. It continues in Yingdu.

Ah, Yingdu. Cheng Xiaoshi's studio was called 'Hero Photo Studio' (ah) before Lu Guang moved in (actually- no, 'Hero' was replaced with 'Time' after they returned from Yingdu and Cheng Xiaoshi kept the promise he made with his maa)

Cheng Xiaoshi exclaiming : am I a hero in a freaking donghua-?! (ah.)

And those lines from The Eye full version :

No matter how hard we looked in the lost and found We never could shine the moonlight underground To the point where we got sick of pretending like we are saviors Till we learn to carry on

Heroes and their savior complex: What is a hero if he does not save people? Useless, right? Heroes are built on narratives. There needs to be a villain to blame, victims to be saved, and most importantly, people to identify the hero as a hero and give the final verdict. What happens when even one parameter is missing?

It's quite amazing how Lu Guang is highlighting his fragility. He does pretend, and he has to be adamant and quite delulu in order to continue his task, or he will collapse.

The interesting thing is that there is an utterance of 'we' rather than 'I.' So, is Cheng Xiaoshi cognizant of this? Something is amiss. It beautifully haunts. It's not just a recollection of the past or their shared suffering and understanding of the world, but rather a sense of final submission on Lu Guang's part.

2. how heteronormative masculinist capitalism forges the figure of 'Hero'

'Heroism' is a fundamentally masculinist construction. Even the term 'virtue,' which has taken on a moral connotation in modern vocabulary, is actually associated with virility/vir (the Latin word for 'man'). Historically, justice, reason, and virtue—the three most basic tenets of heroism—were reserved for (and believed to be possessed only by) exclusively able-bodied men. Women are bestial, devoid of reason, driven by excessive passion, and therefore can never be eligible for the role of a 'Hero.' Even in recent years, the trend is that a female character has to renounce some (or all) parts of her femininity to access aggressive masculinity. Moreover, she can almost never exist without being a shadow to her male counterpart(s). In short, humanist 'Heroism' is predominantly masculine. Female characters must follow a norm to be considered a 'Hero'; they can't topple a system. The fixed binary positions of hero/heroine are heteronormative constructs. Ever wondered why, when a 'heroine' saves a 'Hero' (let's assume both are able-bodied, of equal caliber), it's considered very 'subversive'? It should just be another story of saving people, right? But...It is the normative story that sells. It sells, and that's what matters to capitalism. An alternative story of heroism will remain alternative and special (you know those companies that hire disabled people, queer people, and Black people as a form of tokenism? Then they sack them first without any legible reason or notice). A cluster of 'heroes' will never be able to compete with the 'Hero' (hero with a capital H).

Now, what kind of 'hero' is Qiao Ling?

Honestly speaking, she has been saving Shiguang's ass since the beginning of season 1. Whether it is financial help, legal help, paying hospital bills, paying their bail, or confronting difficult opponents, Qiao Ling hardly backs down. She takes risks; she is overprotective of Shiguang, but since her 'heroism' is so subtle and there is a lack of an audience to identify her as a hero, her 'heroism' goes unnoticed for the most part.

3. the question of agency : The dichotomy between public and private

I discussed a hell lot about it in my analysis of Xia Fei's character before. A few excerpts-

He (Xia Fei) is smart enough to know he is being exploited (and tbh the theme of surveillance and making him the 'morbid' object of gaze, I say morbid because in the last scene of his pv, it's a dead shot, his eyes look so dead, the camera's battery is dead. But yk what remains? his face card. The like button continually popping with likes made me very uncomfortable.

and

Also Xia Fei's story talks about another important theme of the donghua; photo! How photos taken in private spheres are meant to preserve memories of the loved ones, loved encounters. How you capture someone you love in that still image, alive with the emotion you associate with them, giving it an afterlife. The photo becomes the literal and metaphorical medium through which Lu Guang can rewrite history. Forget-me-not, remembrance. It empowers him.

-

On the contrary, for Xia Fei, it is the panopticon seizing his life and rendering it absurd. The emotive power and affect for lu guang changes into viscous institutionalised power politics for Xia Fei. Brilliant! 😭

Xia Fei is surrounded by cameras and it's the play of fate that it continues even to his private life (while befriending Shiguang)

The most perfect focus Wandering between gazes

-

Wherever there's a good position, I'll offer a smile To the lights, I lend this beautiful body To stand in the center

-

No need to guess, this complete disguise The crowd will eventually forget this mask It doesn't matter if the great fire extinguishes the truth Who will it be, perfectly concealed The stolen gaze Yeah, I know I gotta run Yeah, fake a smile in calm

It's a public performance and an elaborate enterprise of concealing the truth; the more you can hide yourself and present what the viewers want, the more success comes to your plate. But very dangerously, when the mask starts to replace your real face, you don't even process it in the beginning, but when it's realized, it's actually too late.

4. narrative identity : hero, villain or is it a blur?

Let alone heroes, villains, or contradictions, all of us are a cluster of fragmented or gap narratives trying to make sense of each other's existence. The reason we resonate with others is that some of our own narratives click with theirs. Our narratives have gaps, and we fill those gaps with what we want to believe. The way we perceive others, forge relationships with others, or even ourselves fills in the gaps in the storytelling. That's how we become complex human beings. Objectively, we are on a perpetual stage of liminality, but to make it easier for our subjectivity, we appropriate narratives according to our ease and taste.

A few months ago, I would easily lose my calm over the 'Is Lu Guang evil?' debate. Now, I feel that it is actually important. Lu Guang himself doesn't identify as a 'Hero.' The problematization of Lu Guang's stance as a 'Hero' is important. Remember the fable-esque story of the forest fire that began featuring in S2 and continued in Yingdu? Who was the culprit? Who was the hero? We may NEVER know. When you are searching for the absolute truth, after a point in time, you realize that absolute truth has no practical value. If you have watched Akira Kurosawa's Rashomon (I strongly recommend this movie; please watch it), you know how people choose a narrative for their own convenience and continue their lives with it, however contradictory they might be from each other. This is what really happens in our daily lives. The problem arises when one narrative is weaponized by a certain group and preached as the grand narrative, and the people who believe in alternative narratives become victims of persecution.

The similar story follows in creating the figures of a 'Hero' or a 'villain.' Until now, Xia Fei and Lu Guang's characters have subverted those horizons of expectations the most in the Link Click universe.

5. the 'soft' power of artistic hierarchy : genre and gender

First, I would like to mention a few lines from Virginia Woolf's A Room of One's Own

Speaking crudely, football and sport are 'important'; the worship of fashion, the buying of clothes 'trivial'. And these values are inevitably transferred from life to fiction. This is an important book, the critic assumes, because it deals with war. This is an insignificant book because it deals with the feelings of women in a drawing room.

Sadly, there will be even a tiny residual of internalized misogyny even when we grow up. It's hard to deal with and that's why it's very important to point out. Romance and shipping is for feminine minds, therefore 'trivial' as a genre. War narratives and heroic battles talk about 'serious' topics, therefore it has an actual 'plot.'

Firstly,

the notion of heroism is inextricably linked with patriotism. In modern-day popular narratives, we may not see the blatant nationalism, but there always remains an echo of 'sacrificing for our own people.' Who are these people? Heroism can't exist if there is no distinction between 'us' and the 'other.' Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori. (Very rough translation: It is one's sweet duty to die for his fatherland/country.)

Heroic narratives are war narratives. If you change the perspective, your hero becomes a villain. We always like to see ourselves at the end of suffering as people who have been wronged; injustice has been thwarted against us, and it's our hero's duty to save us.

I know this is more relevant to tbhx, but if you look closely, Link Click implicitly builds upon this: the hierarchy of gendered genres.

Also, Lu Guang's commentary on art, fiction, and philosophy was much more than just shits and giggles. He equates Shakespeare with donghua and manhua; all of these are forms of popular art with different modes of presenting philosophy. Donning a mask and playing a character from Shakespeare's play and cosplaying as a donghua or manhua character are not that different. Lu Guang questions the hierarchy of high culture and low culture. He writes his diary in Latin and Mandarin; he is undoubtedly a fierce scholar. He respects alternative belief systems such as Tarot cards, traditional Chinese medicine; indigenous or pagan forms of knowledge that are often looked down upon by modern Western scientific disciplines (I will write a separate post on this). The crux of my discussion is that Lu Guang continuously identifies the various forms of hierarchy in social beliefs and art and questions their validity. It's a form of soft power that no one bats an eye at, but many do not realize that it shapes how they process information. It is very much linked to the gendered hierarchy, as misogyny and the exclusion of women are very pervasive. And this brings to our last point : the question of power.

6. the politics of ordinariness in popular culture (the communist propaganda :D)

Lmao. Did I say communist propaganda? wth sure.

I will start my combined discussion from here.

Heroes are these big, big people with big, big superpowers-very flashy, very cute, and very demure. Can ordinary people afford to be a hero? It's not a new question, but I can't remember anyone who has dealt with this topic the way Li Haolin has.

I have talked about this before. This genre reflects Li Haolin's vision in his various works. Take, for example, an episode from To Be Hero: Leaf, where little children are playing on the midnight streets, where all the adults have gone for a factory strike. There is a HUGE focus on ordinary people. The reason I remember Eisenstein's Battleship Potemkin's Odessa Steps sequence is not because it was a government-funded Russian film to preach communism, but because it showed how to decentralize your focus from grand narratives in artistic representation (for example: navy mutiny and soldiers fighting) and strike the audience with alternative, lesser important narratives (normal people suffering from the war). Digressing from the crime-suspense plot and delving deep into Emma's experience, weaving the Shiguang story with hers in 'Keep in Mind' was not truly a necessity plot-wise, but Haolin felt compelled to do so. To the person who mentioned in their post: 'link click' centers around two young boys who are struggling to pay their debt. I will forever be indebted to you. It's all there, but we need to identify it.

Now that I have discussed all of that, let's dive back into To Be Hero X. Just a list so that I don't forget things,

1. Moon and her plight : Idol culture and how relationship rumours affect female idols' public reputation

2. how corporate dehumanizes people

3. Private queer lives and politics in entertainment industry: Wreck and Nice's relationship as a twofold critique on the audience.

So, Moon.

Can you imagine how disturbing it is to be romantically associated with a person just because you signed a contract with a company? For three years, her main identity was someone's girlfriend, whom she didn't even love. She used to be a travel vlogger, a woman who constantly travels and archives different experiences. If you are into the earliest feminist discourses, women traveling is a frequent topic. From Mary Wollstonecraft to Virginia Woolf - everybody acknowledges that. From THAT, she became someone's girlfriend. The sheer humiliation. The most heartbreaking part is that it is the people's expectations which curbed her teleportation powers; it can only open to Nice's side. Moon can't leave Nice. But is Nice bound to her? I don't think there were any suggestions like that.

If you have already guessed it, then congratulations! You are right; Moon's experience as a female idol is actually a microcosmic representation of how women are treated in a heteropatriarchal society.

When they were hatching the plan to 'free' Moon, Lin Ling said :

'Since Nice is a perfect husband, you can't say no to his proposal.'

Of course! If a man is handsome, virtuous, a respectable 'Hero', and the people love to see the heroine as the Hero's partner, how dare the heroine refuse this proposal? The Moon's consent does not matter. It would be a narrative so audacious and absurd that it would not sell. Champagne problems, ha?

And that woman who constantly speaks corporate said: "We have locked them in the same room for a whole month without any other engagement. Of course, they will grow feelings for each other." Ah, fuck-ass logic. Before you jump on me saying, 'But oh, what about the propinquity effect?' and shit, it is a very heteronormative notion to assume that a man and a woman will always develop romantic feelings for each other. Many people (me, I am the many people) headcanon that Moon is queer, aro-ace, and a strong independent woman—I second all of these, but my point is Moon doesn't need a thesis paper on her sexual preference or romantic orientation to reject Nice or Nice's substitute. Again, Lin Ling is Nice's substitute! Imagine the horror: you are shipped with a man you don't love, and people want you to marry him. Then the fucking company doesn't even have the basic courtesy to inform you that that man died, and now you are playing the same game with a substitute! It's a double violation of Moon's dignity. So, Moon is just a mindless idk animal? You throw a man assigned to be her husband or his decoy WITHOUT her consent and EXPECT her to fall in love with him? I mean, Moon would eventually know about Lin Ling's identity...wha-what was the point of excluding her from the discussion and keeping her in the dark? If it was just work, then why wasn't she consulted before the step was taken? She is the central figure, and she has no say in any of the mayhem unfolding.

Moon could be a sorted woman totally comfortable with her heterosexuality and still say no to Nice, even if he is the last surviving man on Earth. She just doesn't like him; it's that simple. That should be the end of the debate. However, people are not ready to accept that. The audience of the 'To Be Hero X' world and the real audience of 'To Be Hero X' donghua both should question themselves: is it okay to still enforce a relationship between them when the woman clearly expresses her sheer irritation at this fake relationship?

And that staged marriage plot! A perfect woman can either be a wife or a dead wife. Part of the reason Lin Ling cries while holding Moon during Moon's 'death' scene is that Moon has to metaphorically and literally die and withdraw herself from the narrative in order to chase the freedom she deserves. She can't exist with her individuality and agency in this world; capitalism and heteronormativity will not allow that.

Also, Moon's mock attempt at suicide is not funny. If I remember correctly, Li Haolin said in the Link Click art book interview that Liu Siwen and his girlfriend's story was something he actually took from a real-life story from a newspaper. Contrary to the happy ending in episode 5.5, the girl actually ended her life.

Another thing I want to mention is Moon from Lin Ling's perspective. In that interview, Lin Ling said

: Moon is not my girlfriend, she is my goddess.

It is not a typical 'romantic' declaration. Lin Ling acknowledges his position and accepts the fact that he will never be able to reach an equal position with Xiao Yueqing. That's why Yueqing is an inspiration to be admired from afar. And do you know why he accepts this? Because he respects Xiao Yueqing. During their one month together, Lin Ling realized that she never loved Nice to begin with. Lin Ling was the person she learned to be a bit softer. "Lin Ling is a much better name," she said. There is no possibility of assuming a relationship (which, honestly, most men don't even pay heed to. If I love you, I will be eligible to be with you, I will make you fall for me, and then how will you be able to say no to me? This is the general logic. Annoy, cross boundaries, violate personal space, and then coerce the woman into falling in love with you because YOUR love is so pure, omg) when the other party doesn't reciprocate. Lin Ling can still love her, but the love will not be actualized. I think Lin Ling was really upset when he learned that Yuqqing was forced to be in a fake relationship with Nice. He didn't want to hurt her more. The idol-fan relationship was fine, but in my opinion, Lin Ling did see her as more than an idol. His simple efforts to make things better for Xiao Yueqing without the illogical hope that 'if I do this, she will fall in love with me' make their relationship very humane. There might be a desire to be with her, but it never becomes the determining motive. I think Lin Ling would say this to Xiao Yueqing: Ti voglio bene. The literal translation of this Italian phrase is 'I want good for you,' which feels more impactful to me than its allegedly more intense romantic cousin.

Whatever the nature of the feelings Lin Ling had for Xiao Yueqing, if more people had this kind of feeling for others in our world, the world would be a much better place than it is today.

I love Li Haolin for how he tries to liberate heterosexual relationships from heteronormative constraints. In a sense, he introduces a splash of queerness into those relationships. Haolin's hetero couples are couples not merely because they share the same room as a boy and a girl. He portrays heterosocial relationships in a beautiful way. There is room to explore and form different kinds of human bonding. If things were normal, maybe Moon would form a really good friendship with Lin Ling. I feel that Lin Ling is the best interpreter of Moon as a human in tbhx.

2. how corporate dehumanizes people

Moon clearly has a more marginalized space in the dynamic, but how does one process power and position thrown towards them without their full control? Nice's character makes us ponder over this. Power and privilege come with a price. For Moon, she still had room to be subversive because things were clearly not working in her favor. What excuse does Nice have in this regard? It's much more complex. His death was so comical and absurd that until a new character is introduced in the second episode, we don't even feel that a real person has died. THAT is the power of perspective and storytelling. Lin Ling didn't quite process what he saw and perhaps didn't feel the need to bother. And Moon... yes, Moon had her reasons and irritation towards Nice, but it was really appalling to see that she did not even feel a little sad about Nice's death. How bitter must her workplace be? How much does capitalism isolate people to the point where fellow sufferers do not even bat an eye at each other? I am not blaming Moon, but I am asking you to consider the horrifying simplicity in this admission: so what if he died? You arranged for another one? Well, I felt chills. Imagine, one day you die, and then, very unfortunately, you didn't actually die and return to see a clone of yourself performing better than you probably could have done. Corporate not only dehumanizes people but makes people dehumanize each other and that's how it thrives.

Next, I would ask you to remember or re-read the third discussion; the question of agency : The dichotomy between public and private. Just replace Xia Fei with Nice. Heck, listen to Xia Fei's character song and if that doesn't make you remember Nice-

fake a smile in calm

3. Private queer lives and politics in the entertainment industry: Wreck and Nice's relationship as a twofold critique on the audience.

*sighs*.

I thought Haolin would just tease us with a iykyk rivals-enemies to lovers trope between a hero and a villain. Like, people who want to ship, ship. I really didn't expect him to pick shiguang, reverse the colour scheme and maintain the trauma and go : did you like my doomed yaoi?! 😃 man-

Haolin's obsession with widows needs to be studied. He pulled the similar string thrice in Yingdu and it's just the second episode in tbhx. Chill, man.

Back to analysis...what should I say? Let's assume you are Wreck.

you look at him like this. You wanted to be a hero with Nice together. So, for Wreck, to be a hero really meant to be with Nice.

Then one day, a script shattered everything. He became a hero, you became his villain, a literal stepping stone for him, so that his trust value increases.

The flashback suggests that Nice would frequently visit Wreck's house, probably the only place he could call 'home.' Nice would let his imperfect but real, unguarded self liberate in front of him.

And then suddenly, one day, he calls Moon his 'goddess.' You text him, call him, and send letters, but he doesn't reply. You shared a private life beyond the gaze of the camera and the prompt of scripts with him, and the company doesn't feel the need to inform you of his death. You reached there for the much-awaited encounter because nothing makes sense to you. The moment he speaks, a world shatters in your heart; he doesn't seem like your Nice. Still, you urge him to speak, almost pleadingly, because nothing makes sense and you hold onto that one tiny belief that things are still okay; maybe it's just a play. Then the illusion breaks. You can't tolerate it anymore and implore the imposter to speak the truth. He says that Nice committed suicide. He died.

People will remember Moon as an individual and someone who had an emotional dynamic with Lin Ling. But Wreck makes us mourn for the original Nice who died.

I don't know if Wreck knew that Nice was capable of doing something like that. He had already begun to cry, and when he heard the truth, he didn't even say things like, 'It can't be possible,' or 'How can it be possible?' Probably, it was more than possible, and that's why he was so tortured and disturbed. Wreck fell to his death with a smile, thinking that perhaps he might finally be able to be together with Nice peacefully.

Now, after everything, people will come and say: 'Ah, they were best friends.' Sure, they were. And that doesn't sit mutually exclusive to being lovers. What I feel is that it is a very conscious narrative within the narrative that Haolin deliberately put forth to unfold the compulsory heterosexuality and queer erasure in the viewership. Fans in the tbhx world forgot Wreck and didn't bother to understand what made him a villain. If tbhx donghua fans do the same after knowing the other perspectives, it's really... just, um, disappointing. You are proving Haolin's point, and you are the type of fans being criticized in the show. If Wreck were a female villain, my god.

I mean, yeah, I am kind of tired of 'proving' that they were lovers. It's the basic lack of media literacy.

I HAVE YAPPED TOO MUCH HELLO

did moon really survive? we don't know. did nice really die? we don't know. did wreck really die? i don't know. did LIN LING REALLY survive? I DON'T KNOW.

But I don't think those will totally topple these reflections.

Special note :

hello, today is this head emptu's birthday. please give him blessings and pray that he does not bite through the longevity noodles. He has a wife at home. and a sister. please. He has a family.

[voice-of-the-sexyman]

🏆 VOICE OF THE SEXYMAN CHAMPIONSHIP INFORMATION POST🏆

[Hi! This Tournament is run by Mod Mai (me is @/hello-universe-lovers) and Mod Ian (he is @ianosaur03 ). Here you may submit your Voice into a tournament of SIXTEEN to find out who is the best Sexyman!] - Mod Mai

DISCLAIMER:

🏁 While we intend to run this tournament as legitimately and professionally as possible, it's worth saying that obviously, this is for FUN and is not meant to taken seriously nor as a definitive way of saying one Voice is better than the other. I just wanna do the Stupid Tumblr Sexyman polls with Voices.

🏁 It's also obvious, but we are not associated with BlackTabbyGames and the title is only for bragging rights and for show. Nothing more, nothing less.

RULES:

Submission:

🔍 From 28/4/2025 to 12/5/2025, we will take Submission of the themed Voice designs from various artists across Tumblr. With the tournament starting on 12/5/2025 or the following day(s).

🔍 Only Voices submitted through the Google Form are accepted. Although reblogging is appreciated to spread the message.

🔍 There are SIXTEEN (16) spots open on the tournament bracket. If we fill all of the spots before the 2 weeks are over, then I will make a post telling its closed. But the tournament will still start on the 12/5/2025.

Tournament:

⛓️ The Tournament will be a vote. 2 Voices are pitted against each other, and the one with the higher vote move onto the next round. Very simple.

⛓️ Each round will last for a week to give people time to vote, make propaganda, reblog, what have you...

⛓️ The Winner will receive the title of "Voice of the Sexyman" for life, because I don't plan on doing repeats.

⛓️ HOWEVER, I do intend to do this for at least a couple, if not all, of the Voices. So if you miss this one, don't worry. There's 11 crowns after all ~♡

⛓️ you can find the Google form RIIIIGHT HERE

Etiquette:

❤️ As stated, this is not serious and should not be taken as such. While me and Ian will intend to run this professionally, that does not mean you can harass or spam people to either vote or participate.

❤️ Please respect both the mods. The purpose of this tournament is to be fun and give people a chance to show off their artworks.

❤️ Please do not attack others for their aforementioned choices. People can choose to vote, participate, both or neither.

❤️ WE HAVE NEVER DONE SOMETHING LIKE THIS BEFORE! if there are any problems at all with the votes, the Google form or if you have questions, please send an ask and one of us will get back to you soon. Constructive criticism very appreciative.

❤️ with that said, fanart, reblogs and "propaganda" art is appreciated. Just be mindful and respectful when you send it via reblogs, or posts.

❤️ This will be updated as time goes on, should clarification or new rules be added.

Tags:

These are what you should look for if you wanna find content for the tournament.

✅️ [#voice of the sexyman championship #voice of the sexyman]: general tag of all things tournament related.if you want your piece mentioned and reblogged, use this. (Note: I will not reblog anything posted in-between tournaments)

✅️ [#Voice of the sexy (voice)]: if you wanna look up stuff for a specific voice/tournament (example: #Voice of the sexy Cold)

✅️ [#sexyman propaganda]: for fanart promoting a specific Voice. Or all of them, if you're a masochist/jk

✅️ [#half time shenanigans]: for art and stuff thats not necessarily propaganda but uses the tourney setting for some bullshit/aff.

✅️ [#tournament announcements]: for announcements and updates about the tourney, such as delays, winners, or requests.

✅️ [#Tournament voting]: for if you want to skip the fluff and get to the voting stage.

✅️ [#Mod talk #mod mai #mod ian]: tags to indicate who made the post.

NOTE: If your post are not being rebloged, tag the blog specifically. Usually there is such a big backlog that things can slip through the cracks.

👉PUTTING THE FORM AGAIN HERE IN CASE YOU MISSES IT 👈

[I think that's everything I need to say for now. I hope everyone has fun and I look forward to see all of your submission. Have a great day and I hope you have fun.

Oh and may the Smartest of Hearts wins/j

-Mod Mai]

[lollygaggingloser]

Varian and Hugo after another argument. Post-VAT7K

Varian, sighing: You would think, after being together for so long, we would have nothing left to fight about.

Hugo: I suppose it's one of my many talents.

Varian: Being an ass?

Hugo, frowning: Letting you know when you're wrong about something.

Varian: ME??? YOU'RE the one who- wait wait wait ✋️ no. I'm not letting you bait me back into arguing. I don't have the energy or time for it now.

Varian takes a seat at his desk and starts trying to get back to work. Unluckily for him, Hugo doesn't let the silence last long.

Hugo: so...you don't have the energy for me now?

Varian, looking up: I didn't say that. I said I don't have the energy for arguing. It's tiresome. We can still talk to eachother with civility, can we not? We can be peaceful one day without an argument, right?

Hugo: ...I suppose. Do we really argue too much?

Varian shrugs, looking back down at his desk as he writes more notes. Hugo pouts at Varian's dismissal, but doesn't stop talking.

Hugo: I like it when we argue.

Varian: You like me yelling at you?

Hugo: No...well, maybe, but- I like that we can speak freely, even when it's about something we disagree on. With Don-

There's a slight pause from Hugo, who decides to cover his hesitation with busying himself by putting away lab materials.

Hugo: Before I met you, if I didn't like something, I was taught to keep it to myself. With you, there's none of that. We can talk or yell or whatever and solve the issue. I mean, really? Fuck civility if all it does is make us tiptoe around the problem. We're too smart for that. I thought you'd understand-

Varian: I do understand, Hugo.

Varian moves away from his desk and walks up to him. He sees Hugo get a bit nervous and look away from him. Up close he can see Hugo's concerned expression. It must have really ate at him to hear Varian be so exhausted at their antics. This silly blond may act tough and speak up when provoked, but that didn't mean he didn't care about upsetting Varian.

Varian: And you're right, we shouldn't "tip toe" around our issues. But we're hitting up a deadline soon and we can't spend another hour pointing fingers at eachother. So, let's call a truce.

Hugo: A truce?

Varian: A temporary one, which shall dissolve after our experiment and report is complete. No "your wrong, I'm right", no yelling, no blaming, and any oppositions must be laid out in constructive criticism. Deal?

Hugo: Can I roll my eyes?

Varian: You can, but only one time.

Hugo: 5

Varian: 3

Hugo: I accept the truce.

Hugo offers out his hand and they shake on it. The two smile at each other and Varian tenderly takes Hugo's hand into both of his.

Varian: You know, arguing or not, I love you, right?

Hugo: Even when I'm being an ass?

Varian, jokingly: Oh, especially then. That's when I must love you the hardest.

[thesensteawitch]

Something Is About To Be Revealed To You 🕊️

Pick A Pile Reading

Hey, lovely humans!

This is a collective reading so take what resonates and leave what doesn't.

To book a personal tarot reading with me either you can DM me or directly book from the link mentioned below:

Booking Form • Rate Card

Pile 1

Oh, you don't know how powerful you are! Soon you'll realize that your intuition has always been right about what path you must walk on. You don't know how successful you can be. Despite having a chaotic thought pattern, you have the strength to unravel the knots that bind you to a limited construct. Life will show you why it was necessary for you to walk away from certain connections. Currently you're healing a shadow of yours, but you're about to come out of it. You'll rise above the challenges and will realize it was no one but you who decided your life to unfold the way it did. You may feel that you're a restless rat, always distracted. But all this confusion is leading you to the truth. Your path is messy, confusing, and pretty lonesome, but you are very, very close to a breakthrough. This breakthrough is changing you from within and outside. Your intuition is telling you that something better is coming, but it's not here yet, right? Trust it while you're on your way to a better and more deserving reality. The only advice coming from the source for you is to stay focused on your goal. Don't change your plans just because you haven't seen the results yet. If you keep changing your plans, you'll only bring more delays and confusion. If you're wearing something in beige, white, black, or red, then this reading is definitely for you! Angel number 222. Ending this at 2:22 (You're on the right path!)

Pile 2

Soon you're being revealed to a whole new world. You seem so bored with where you are currently. Something unexpected can come in the form of a new idea or money that is going to make you feel more confident to start a new journey. You want to create something, but you lack direction or an outlet. You're soon receiving a call from the divine to do something extraordinary. You don't need to look for this blessing. It will naturally come to you within 3-4 days. Don't lose hope. And if you're wondering why this new idea and resources are coming to you, then the reason for it is your past karmas. It's a reward from the source. For a very few of you, I also feel that someone's going to reveal their feelings for you. This person has been waiting for the right moment to make a move. They are going to take a leap of faith toward you as you mean the world to them. And all of this is not happening randomly. As I said, it's a reward for your own actions. You've been waiting to see the difference in the outside world for the difference you have made within you. A lot of you have given so much time into loving and taking care of yourself that it is going to be reflected in your surroundings as well. Someone sees you as spiritual, grounded, and friendly. Also, as you begin this new project with the idea/resource/offer that you're about to receive, you'll be surprised to see how talented you are. Don't be so hopeless. I know a lot hasn't worked out in the past but this time if you choose to accept this blessing your whole world will change. Love finds you; you don't find it. Strength finds you; you don't find it. Wisdom finds you; you don't find it. You just need to keep your channel empty to receive from the divine. 444 is your angel number. If you're wearing something in brown, blue, orange, or yellow, then this reading is definitely for you.

Pile 3

You are on your way to understanding the divine. You're doing this by being less self critical and more accepting of your shadows. You're no longer afraid of the darkness because you know that to embrace light, one must accept the dark too. Currently you're choosing to live in solitude to receive the message from the source. Some of you are receiving messages through songs. Whatever you're seeking currently is intense. And what you seek is seeking you. So what's about to be revealed to you is exactly what you're trying to understand. This pile doesn't feel that God is too far to reach out to, but you wonder what makes your shadow feel that way. You're not suppressing anymore. You're embracing all of you! So beautiful and serene, pile 3. I also feel that a lot of you are wishing to find a divine love where both choose to heal together without being codependent. The song, ‘Dandelions,' can be significant. The deep reflection that you're in is bringing you closer to union. This union of Shiva & Shakti is happening within you first. What divine love feels like will soon be revealed to you. It feels like you're choosing to dive into your darkness and find the diamond. You're doing something only few dare to do. I am also getting the vibes of Mula and Ardra nakshatras. Deep and intense transformations bring wisdom to you. You're evolving, and the truth shall soon be revealed to you. Keep going and do the right thing while you traverse through this narrow path. If you're wearing something in grey or purple, then this reading is definitely for you.

[physalian]

“How do I know if my story needs work or if I’m just being hard on myself?”

As I sit here accepting the fact that at 70k words into Eternal Night’s sequel while waiting for my editor for Eternal Night itself, that I have made an error in my plot.

Disclaimer: This is not universal and the writing experience is incredibly diverse. Figuring this out also takes some time and building up your self-confidence as an author so you can learn to separate “this is awful (when it’s not)” and “this is ok (but it can be better)” and “this isn’t working (but it is salvageable).”

—

When I wrote my first novel (unpublished, sadly), years ago, I would receive feedback all over the chapters and physically have to open other windows to block off parts of the screen on my laptop to slow-drip the feedback because I couldn’t handle constructive criticism all at once. I had my betas color-code their commentary so I could see before I read any of it that it wasn’t all negative. It took me thrice as long as it does today to get through a beta’s feedback because I got so nervous and anxious about what they would say.

The main thing I learned was this: They’re usually right, when it’s not just being mean (and even then, it’s rarely flat out mean), and that whatever criticisms they have of my characters and plot choices is not criticism of myself.

It did take time.

But now I can get feedback from betas and even when I hear “I’d DNF this shit right now unless you delete this,” I take a step back, examine if this one little detail is really that important, and fix it. No emotional turmoil and panic attack needed. I can also hear “I didn’t like it” without heartbreak. Can’t please everyone.

The only time I freak out is when I'm told "this won't need massive edits" followed up by, in the manuscript, "I'd DNF this shit right now". Which happened. And did not, in fact, require a massive rewrite to fix.

So.

What might be some issues with your story and why it “isn’t working”.

1. Your protagonist is not active enough in the story

You’ve picked your protagonist, but it’s every other character that has more to do, more to say, more choices to make, and they’re just along for the ride, yet you are now anchored to this character’s story because they’re the protagonist. You can either swap focus characters, or rework your story to give them more agency. Figure out why this character, above any other, is your hero.

2. Your pacing is too slow

Even if you have a “lazy river” style story where the vibes and marinating in the world is more important than a breakneck plot, slow pacing isn’t just “how fast the story moves” it’s “how clearly is the story told,” meaning if you divert the story to a side quest, or spend too long on something that sure is fluffy or romantic or funny, but it adds nothing to the characters because it’s redundant, doesn’t advance the plot, doesn’t give us more about the world that actually matters to the themes, then you may have lost focus of the story and should consider deleting it, or editing important elements into the scenes so they can pull double-duty and serve a more active purpose.

3. You’ve lost the main argument of your narrative

Sometimes even the best of outlines and the clearest plans derail. Characters don’t cooperate and while we see where it goes, we end up getting hung up on how this one really cool scene or argument or one-liner just has to be in the story, without realizing that doing so sacrifices what you set out to accomplish. Personally I think sticking to your outline with biblical determination doesn’t allow for new ideas during the writing process, but if you find yourself down the line of “how did we get here, this isn’t what I wanted” you can always save the scenes in another document to reuse later, in this WIP or another in the future.

4. You’re spending too long on one element

Even if the thing started out really cool, whether it’s a rich fantasy pit stop for your characters or a conversation two characters must have, sometimes scenes and ideas extend long past their prime. You might have characters stuck in one location for 2 or 3 chapters longer than necessary trying to make it perfect or stuff in all these details or make it overcomplicated, when the rest of the story sits impatiently on the sidelines for them to move on. Figure out the most important reasons for this element to exist, take a step back, and whittle away until the fat is cut.

5. You’ve given a side character too much screentime

New characters are fun and exciting! But they can take over the story when they’re not meant to, robbing agency from your core characters to leave them sitting with nothing to do while the new guy handles everything. You might end up having to drag your core characters along behind them, tossing them lines of dialogue and side tasks to do because you ran out of plot to delegate with one character hogging it all (which is the issue I ran into with the above mentioned WIP). Not talking about a new villain or a new love interest, I mean a supporting character who is supposed to support the main characters.

—

As for figuring out the difference between “this is awful and I’m a bad writer” and “this element isn’t working” try pretending the book was written by somebody else and you’re giving them constructive criticism.

If you can come up with a reason for why it’s not working that doesn’t insult the writer, it’s probably the latter. As in, “This element isn’t working… because it’s gone on too long and the conversation has become cyclical and tiring.” Not “this element isn’t working because it’s bad.”

Why is it bad?

“This conversation is awkward because…. There’s not enough movement between characters and the dialogue is really stiff.”

“This fight scene is bad because….I don’t have enough dynamic action, enough juicy verbs, or full use of the stage I’ve set.”

“This romantic scene is bad because…. It’s taking place at the wrong time in the story. I want to keep it, but this character isn’t ready for it yet, and the vibe is all wrong now because they’re out-of-character.”

“This argument is bad because…. It didn’t have proper build-up and the sudden shouting match is not reflective of their characters. They’re too angry, and it got out of hand quickly. Or I’m not conveying the root of their aggression.”

—

There aren’t very many bad ideas, just bad execution. “Only rational people can think they’re crazy. Crazy people think they’re sane,” applies to writing, too.

I just read a fanfic recently where, for every fight scene, I could tell action was not the writer’s strong suit. They leaned really heavily on a crutch of specific injuries for their characters, the same unusual spot getting hit over and over again, and fights that dragged on for too long being unintentionally stagnant. The rest of the fic was great, though, and while the fights weren’t the best, I understood that the author was trying, and I kept reading for the good stuff. One day they will be better.

In my experience beta reading, it’s the cocky authors who send me an unedited manuscript and tell me to be kind (because they can’t take criticism), that they know it’s perfect they just want an outside opinion (they don’t want the truth, they want what will make them feel good), that they know it’s going to make them a lot of money and everyone will love it (they haven’t dedicated proper time and effort into researching marketing, target audiences, or current trends)—these are the truly bad authors. Not just bad at writing, but bad at taking feedback, are bullies when you point out flaws in their story, and cheap, too.

The best story I have received to date was where the author didn’t preempt with a self-deprecating deluge of “it’s probably terrible you know but here it is anyway” or “this is perfect and I’m super confident you’re going to love it”.

It was something like, “This is my first book and I know it has flaws and I’m nervous but I had a lot of fun doing it”.

And yeah, it needed work, but the bones of something great were there. So give yourself some credit, yeah?

[elysiansparadise]

Hi! I'd like to know more about Mars square Saturn in synastry if you're up to it. Thank you.

How to deal with Mars-Saturn square in synastry?

The square between Mars-Saturn can cause differences when it comes to taking action. One may be more action-oriented, while the other tends to think too much before doing something. Their approach when implementing an idea can be very different, creating irritability or frustration depending on the occasion. One party may constantly feel 'held back' by the other. 

As for practical approaches, I can mention the following:

🤍Accept your differences: Through acceptance, complementation can come. You two are a team and having different approaches can make them an excellent one, mixing the ability to act of one and the ability to plan of the other can lead to not only achieving success, but to being a very strong and lasting couple in the long term. Understanding that differences are not necessarily a bad thing and keeping an open mind by recognizing the good side of these traits in the other can help you create a healthy and supportive environment.

🤍Identify friction and come to agreements: Talk about situations where you feel like you are clashing with the other [for example, money, responsibilities, time together]. This step creates a foundation of mutual understanding and allows you to anticipate future problems. To avoid recurring frustrations, it is essential that the couple work on conscious agreements about how to act in situations of conflict or making important decisions.

🤍Honest and constructive conversations: Don't be afraid to tell your partner how you feel or if you see it as optimal for both of you to make changes. It is important that both seek the well-being of the other without this meaning demotivating them or offering destructive criticism, you can disagree without harming the other person. Tact is a crucial part, but it requires honesty for it to be positive and useful. You need to talk about your feelings, needs, preferences and dislikes.

Some aspects in astrology that can help with this are the following:

🩶Aspects between Mars/Uranus and Moon not only create a happy, positive and comfortable environment in this couple, but both can help each other get out of their comfort zone by reassuring the other that they will be there to make the process smooth and positive for the other. There is a strong camaraderie between them and they work together to ensure that the relationship progresses and does not feel tense.

🩶The aspects between Mercury-Saturn can give you tact to say things. You can help each other through advice to shape or give more structure to your partner's ideas [in the case of Saturn person], or provide greater productivity and guide to action [in case of Mars person]. Constructive criticism, support and ease of sharing your projects, ideas or ways of thinking with your partner without feeling attacked.

🩶The harmonious aspects between Mars-Venus greatly favor sexual and romantic compatibility, and of course, a pleasant and comfortable coexistence for both. Promotes complementarity, the ability to connect in a calm, patient and loving way with your partner and seek to move forward and grow from love and affection.

🩶When we find harmonious aspects between Mars and Jupiter, it not only creates great sexual chemistry and makes it easier to maintain a lively and positive coexistence, but it also favors the resolution of conflicts. This couple seeks to find ways so that both benefit from the decisions they make together, they seek justice and what is right for both of them. Likewise, these aspects create this ease to see a future together in which things look brighter.

🩶When Jupiter is making a conjunction, trine or sextile with Saturn gives the couple that willingness to work on the relationship, the maturity to solve issues calmly and in a practical and beneficial way for both. Likewise, making this couple last over time. The commitment they feel with each other does not feel limiting, since both can guide each other and grow together.

🩶The harmonious aspects between Uranus and Saturn reinforce commitment without the relationship becoming suffocating, since the spark of the unexpected is maintained and refreshes the dynamic. This can be key to alleviating any feelings of stagnation. It is a mix of fluidity with stability, which can provide a supportive and long-term oriented environment.

🩶Your Mars falling in the 6th, 9th or 10th house: With these Mars overlays, the Mars person can help your partner feel more motivated, energetic and able to achieve things. Both will have an energizing effect on the other. Mars in the 6th or 10th does the task of 'shaping' the other's ideas very well, giving them realistic and more achievable perspectives without demotivating the other, support and a way to act and achieve things in the long term. And Mars falling in the 9th house can bring new perspectives and encouragement to your partner.

🩶Mercury falling in the other's 1st, 3rd, or 4th house can be of great help, since any of the previous mentioned helps them connect very easily. Not only in terms of getting to know them well, but also creating a strong intellectual connection in which they feel that they are in tune with what someone else really thinks or believes. The conversations are fluid and they feel that they can be open with each other without being judged.

🩶Honorable mention to: If you and/or your partner have mutable Moon, Mars or Mercury. Pluto-Jupiter trine or sextile. Sun-Mars harmonious aspects.

[itsphoenix0724]

Promises Pt 2 (Rhysand x Reader)

Summary: You don't argue with your husband often, and never anything as serious as this. However, some things may be too hard to come back from. But, you can certainly try.

Part 1

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2k

A/N: Hi loves! Thank you for all the love on Promises! I'm so so happy everyone liked it, and I got a lot of really positive feedback and interactions! Here is the awaited part 2! I hope you all enjoy where I've decided to take it and the ending! As always constructive criticism is welcome!

You found Mor when you arrived at Athelwood. You had reached out to her mind to mind and she came right away. You spent an hour crying collapsed in her arms cursing the world, the mother, the cauldron, and your husband.

You didn’t leave your bed for another two weeks.

Mor tried to convince you to eat, but you rejected the offer every time. All you did was stare grimly between the gap in the curtains. 

Mate. One word, four letters. Who knew such a small word could rip your heart to shreds?  

You couldn’t stop replaying your argument with Rhys over and over. “She is my mate and I don’t know what to do.” and “It's just more complicated” rattled against the walls of your brain like a twisted symphony. You could only shut your eyes and turn away from the dying sun to try to drown out the noise. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The Night Court was in absolute shambles. It had only been a few weeks, but Rhys quickly realized how greatly the absence of his queen was felt across the entire territory.

After his return from Amarantha’s rule, you had shouldered the majority of the workload to give him time to recover. Theoretically, it made sense. He was out of practice and you had been ruling the court for 49 years by yourself. However, he was just now realizing how out of practice he was.

Rhys had never been a particularly good diplomat.

He was a good leader and a fantastic battle strategist, but he needed more patience for paperwork and meetings.

You always did say he could win a war before he understood the workings of city planning.

Now, there was a pile of letters on his desk asking him when the services the Queen had usually provided were going to resume.

He didn’t realize how much you did daily. How much improvement you made over almost 50 years of ruling by yourself.

You had established a grief counseling service for the war, there was a refugee center you helped run for Illyrian women who needed shelter, and you and Cassian even made biweekly visits to almost all of the Illyrian Camps to ensure they were upholding the new laws about wing clipping. You were even fielding talks with Keir in the Court of Nightmares.

You always did hate the way Rhys chose to handle that.

It was the way his father had taught him and his grandfather had taught his father, and even though you hated Keir, you hated seeing the rest of the court punished.

You had established an exchange program of sorts. Apparently, you had allowed a select few merchants to come to Velaris almost monthly to sell their goods, and you had a group of 20 children that would come attend schools in the City of Starlight. The work kept piling up, he had so many letters marked urgent on his desk that he was starting to go cross-eyed.

The only thing that he could think of was that he failed you. He failed his court, and there was nothing but deep unsettling loneliness clawing its way through his ribcage and straight into his heart. The only thing he had been trying to do was reach you. He had been trying to talk to you through your mind but he was met with cool obsidian walls banning him from entry. 

Then, there was the matter of the unanswered mating bond pulling in his chest. 

He never wanted Feyre. At least not in the same way he wanted you.

He never intended to accept the bond, but he wanted to help her. She had brought him back to his family. To his Queen. He refused to let her waste away in Spring. He thought he could use the mating bond as an excuse to get her away from Tamlin, and once she was settled he could break it off and set her free.

He had made the stupid mistake of not being honest with you in the first place.

He didn’t want you to scent the mating bond and get the wrong idea, so he stayed away for the week until he could finalize his plan.

Instead, he made the mistake of not telling you and it seemed like he was having an affair.

It had been a fair assumption to make, given his piss-poor excuse for an explanation, but the thought of being with another person made him sick to his stomach. Running his fingers over the band of your ring he knew he had to fix this. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You distantly felt Mor sit down on the bed. A soft caring hand brushes through your hair as she calls your name softly. You turn, and blink up at her with weary eyes.

She sends you a sad tight-lipped smile before telling you why she disturbed your hibernation. 

“We need your help.” She says it so softly you almost don’t hear her, “Please. The Court is running itself into the ground. Your people need you,” she pauses again like she doesn’t know if she should say what comes next. “Rhys needs you.” You bury your head back into the pillow and allow yourself to relish in the darkness a minute longer. 

“Winnow us to the House, and then give me an hour.” Mor’s face lights up with a blazing victory as she reaches out to grab your hands, and then deposits you in the Oueen Suite at the house of wind.

You flinch at the bright light and want nothing more than to crawl back into bed and wallow in the crushing sadness. 

But you are Queen of the Night Court, and you made an oath to your people before anything else.

You refuse to let them be punished for the mistakes of their stupid High Lord.

The House had run you a bath, and you sink into the boiling water trying to scrub away the remains of the previous two weeks. Once you’re done you sit down at the vanity in your room and go through the motions. You brush your hair, apply some makeup, and put on all the pieces of jewelry that mean the most to you like armor.

It feels like you’re suiting up for battle to go see your husband. The floor-length black slip you chose might as well have been made of steel.    

You do your best to pointedly ignore your bare ring finger. 

You stare at the crown you never quite thought you were worthy of. Of course, the cauldron would make Feyre Rhys’s Mate. She was the curse-breaker and Rhys was the most powerful High Lord in history. 

What were you?

You push the negative thoughts away and rest the crown on your head. You need to focus on your people. They were the important factor here. You stand up and find Mor in the hall, She looks over you with immense approval before winnowing you down to Velaris.

You walk around the city before you face Rhys at the townhouse.

You visit your favorite bakery, you visit all of your charities, and you walk along the Sidra greeting the townspeople as you pass. It fills you with renewed vigor as they greet you with their warm smiles. It makes you feel like you deserve to be here. 

This is your city, nothing can take you from it. 

The door to the townhouse opens for you, and the first thing you smell is the stench of old wine. You wander through the house and find that Rhys hasn’t moved any of the things you made in the kitchen before you left. You found Rhys leaning over his desk. He must be out of it because he doesn’t hear your approach.

He looks tense, the muscles in his back are as taught as a bowstring. His hair looks run-through and ragged even from behind, and you bet if he turned around there would be dark purple half-moons under his eyes.

You clear your throat and Rhy’s head shoots around to look at you. You’re expecting anger, regret, and maybe even resentment to reflect in his eyes. The only thing you see looking back at you is palpable remorse. He pushes back from his desk so hard that his chair knocks over. He rushes over to you and looks like he’s going to wrap you in his arms, but he drops them at the last second. Rhy is staring at you like he doesn’t believe you’re real and his violet eyes have taken on a glassy tint. 

“Hi,” you mumble carefully, not quite sure if you’ll spook him into triggering another argument. You not knowing how to act around your husband is an unpleasant foreign feeling. Rhys clears his throat and lets out a teary sort of laugh

“Hello my darling,” he tries to smile and fiddles with his hands in a way that is so uncharacteristically like Rhysand it makes your heart lurch for him in your chest. “I’m assuming there’s a lot you want to talk to me about.” You nod and Rhys casts his eyes downward before he nods at you in encouragement. 

“Do you want a divorce?”  It’s the first thing you blurt out, but you’re not sure if you want to know the answer. You have to know, you need to know before you can continue on further. If Rhysand was going to rip out your heart again you’d rather him just get it over with already. Instead, he looks up at you with the most alarmed look on his face you’ve ever seen, and he reaches out to grab your hands in his.

He opens his mouth and then closes it again before he drops to his knees before you. 

“No love, I do not want a divorce. I never want to be separated from you ever again,” He presses kisses into your knuckles “Please, let me explain myself.” He looks up at you in permission and you give a subtle tip of your head. “I never wanted Feyre. Ever. I only needed the mating bond to help save her. I was always going to reject the bond after she was safe.” You hesitate, and he can see the trepidation in your eyes. “Please believe me,” Silver lined the bottom of his violet eyes

“But why,” your voice cracked, and the sobs you’ve held in through you’re entire time apart came rushing out of your chest like hot lava. “The cauldron gave you a mate that matches your power. I’m just me. I’m nothing.” Rhys rises from his knees and holds your face in his hands.

Claiming and steady so he can soothe your sobs. 

“Damn the cauldron. I love you to the end of this earth, and the next earth beyond it. I made mistakes, and I handled this situation completely the wrong way. I am so sorry Darling. I am lost without you, when you’re not here I am missing half my heart. Please, come home.” Another sob bubbles up from your throat and your husband pulls you against him, rubbing soothing circles into your back and apologies into the crook of your neck. Once you both calmed down he pulls back from you and offers you your ring. The sight almost makes another sob bubble in your throat. “Well? Could you forgive me?” 

You nod and Rhy’s whole body almost sags in relief at your words as he slips the sapphire back onto your finger. It’s like a void in your soul has been filled.

You and Rhys certainly still have a lot to talk about and a lot to work on, but you know you’ll do it together.

Just like you always have. 

“So, I heard the Court is falling to pieces without me?” You look back at Rhys’s desk in question and he sends you a guilty look in return. He scoops you up in his arms, despite your shout of protest, and starts walking you toward your shared bedroom. 

“Love you don’t even know how lost I am without you, but we can get to that after I’m done thoroughly apologizing to my Queen.” His voice sends a shiver of dark promise down your spine, and you have the settled feeling in your stomach that everything will turn out just fine.

[naamahdarling]

What are the elevator game and Three Kings?

They're modern folklore/urban legend ritual games games akin to Bloody Mary, spread by creepypasta memes across the internet for thrills and chills. (I actually love creepypasta. There's some excellent horror in the genre. Ted the Caver and Candle Cove are both super cool, those aren't hard to find.)

The Elevator Game supposedly originates in Japan or South Korea, and involves getting into an elevator and pressing the buttons in a certain sequence in order to reach a surreal otherworld, with dire consequences should they fail to follow all the rules. It doesn't have a goal or reward, just the appeal of accessing a creepy alternate reality. It's a fairly popular bit of modern folklore and I enjoy it for its modern yet classic feel and its specificity. This is a game that it is actually feasible to play, unlike a lot of other modern creepypasta ritual games, which can be very complicated.

The Three Kings Ritual is another creepypasta ritual game, and it's a fucking banger. I HIGHLY recommend you read it in full.

It has a great name, great symbolism, a creepy as shit setup, and a genuine chance, I think, at getting something fucked up to happen (in the sense that you could very easily experience some trippy visual distortion and possibly some auditory stuff as well from the white noise of the fan).

It genuinely put my hairs up the first time with these bits (the bolded and italicized bits are of particular note):

Place one chair in the center of the room. ....Place the other two chairs exactly to the left and right, facing your throne. The distance between your throne and that of your queen and fool should be about the length of your arm to each side, more or less. Place the two large mirrors on the queen and fool chairs left and right of you, facing you (and each other). Try your best to have them stand at a 90 degree angle (or else you may get more or less than three kings). If you sit on your throne facing straight ahead (north), you should be able to perceive your own reflection in each of the two mirrors without actually having to turn your head nor your eyes to do so. If you see your own reflection in the corner of your eye, just barely there, then you've done it right.

So you can see how this would lend itself to seeing things. Mirrors are already creepy. With a small light in a dark room, it gets worse. This isn't about a demon or vengeful spirit, just...presences, which is much creepier to me because on some level it feels more plausible.

Look straight ahead, at the darkness. Not at the candle, not at the mirrors, just straight ahead. Eagle-eyed readers surely noticed I didn't say during setup which chair was queen and which chair was fool. That's because it's your job to find out. And from their point of view, you are either their queen or their fool, too. Hence three kings.

Fucking hell.

Again the goal is nebulous. The original text leaves so many things unanswered. Are we to converse with these entities, to ask questions? What the actual fuck happens if you get the angle wrong and get more than two spirits?

All I know is that I am curious. This is absolutely my favorite ritual game.

[solarsturniolo]

you say you can’t watch the trips anymore bc nick is too rude but ignore the fact that for months on end matt was rude but everyone js said “oh that’s his mattitude” that’s pretty weird to me man idk

Matt has also gotten very rude. i’m not dismissing that at all. But nick’s piss poor attitude has been consistent for about a year now and i’m over it 😀 He can’t take any constructive criticism, he makes fun of and talks shit about his fan base CONSTANTLY, he never stops complaining, and quite frankly i find it so unattractive when people are like that. Matt has an attitude and he’s been getting worse recently as well.

Like they keep saying, they’re twenty one years old. they need to grow up and fucking act like it. Their behavior on the internet would be excusable for like 15-17 year olds, but they are adults. They can legally drink, they can vote, they can be drafted in the military. It’s about time someone (Laura) does their job and hires them a PR person because clearly they have ZERO training.

My life may be crazy now, what with all of the going out and going to frat parties and stuff that’s happening, but i am so much happier now that im not stuck in this Sturniolo Slum.

When Nick finally figures out that the world doesn’t revolve around him, and that he’s not always 100% right, then maybe i’ll give them a second chance. But i don’t see that happening anytime within the near future, because his ego is bigger than his fucking mouth. And this has absolutely NOTHING to do with his sexuality, before the sturniolo police decide to put me on blast. I’m a girl and i love pussy, but i still treat people with respect and decency, and i can accept and acknowledge when im wrong about something.

[weirdsht]

Disillusioned 3 . Abandoned, Adopted (2) - Cale/Reader

tags: abuse as the norm, reader sees nothing wrong with what they've experienced

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are open and welcome

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Sigh

“I was gonna reveal him later while we’re talking but might as well.”

Cale casually stated as he handed _____ a towel. It sounded as if he was describing the menu for lunch. As if he didn't let out an exasperated sigh before speaking. Contrary to his nonchalant voice and demeanour, Cale is actually a bit worried. He is worried at the high possibility of the healer not being able to compose themself at the sight of a dragon.

“I am the great Raon Miru and my great self is now 4 years old!”

“Hello Raon Miru-nim, it’s nice to meet such a great and mighty existence.”

_____ bowed respectfully at the cute dragon that Cale is currently drying with a towel. The bow only lasted two seconds before the healer grabbed a new and unused towel.

“You dried Hong but didn’t dry yourself On.”

Their gaze asked On if it was okay to dry them to which the silver kitten nodded before moving closer to _____.

Cale finds this development unexpected, but good unexpected. In fact, he likes it so much. He likes _____’s calmness despite the visible surprise in their eyes.

Some minutes and towels later the two can finally get to the main topic of today’s conversation.

“Your adoptive family has proclaimed you dead, what is your plan now?”

“Uhm, honestly young master Cale-nim-”

“Just Cale is fine, even if that shitty family of yours proclaimed you dead you are still a noble. We are still equal in status.”

“Huh? Uh uhm, okay…”

_____ was flabbergasted as this was the first time someone said they were a noble. Well, not that they have much reference as most of their conversations are with their adoptive family, but it was still shocking to the healer.

“Then Cale-ssi..? No? Uhm, Cale-sunbae[1]..? I have no concrete plan. I knew that someday I was gonna be thrown away when I was deemed useless. I just didn’t expect my usefulness to end this early.”

The healer was hesitant in their new way to address the young master. However, Cale looked more relaxed being called sunbae so _____ deemed it okay to call him as such.

“Then you just have to find a new place that will see you as useful right? I think this is the perfect place for that.”

_____ looked at Cale in disbelief. They may not know much information about… well almost everything, but they have also heard about the rumours of Cale being trash.

Whether that was real or Cale was faking it didn’t matter. 

The point still stands that someone who made a name for themself as trash would not need someone like _____. Not with all the burdens and hard work that comes with them as a package. Not only that but the young master seems to have some sort of power that lets him have full vitality at all times.

So why would such a person take in _____ who is only good at healing others?

“Cale-sunbae taking someone in like me is bound to cause trouble. I am aware that taking me in means hiding me as I cannot reveal myself right now. I am also aware that requires a lot of effort to do.”

“Don’t worry about that, I’m not the son of a rich noble for nothing. All you have to think of is whether you’ll accept my offer and what you want to do. Do you want to take revenge?”

The black dragon that’s lying down on Cale’s bed with the kittens perked its head up at the mention of revenge. He may not know what _____’s story is but he feels a kinship with them at the known fact that the human his human is talking to also had a hard life before meeting Cale.

“Revenge? Oh no that has never crossed my mind. Why would I when they provided for me? It’s not like they did anything wrong?”

“THAT’S NOT TRUE LITTLE _____!!! This great and mighty being that has lived for 4 years could tell what they did was not right!!”

Everyone else in the room got a whiplash while the black dragon was enraged. Cale was confused at how such a thing could be considered normal.

“In any case, if you don’t want to make them pay it’s fine. If you ever change your mind just tell me.”

Cale Henituse is now responsible for this person, and that responsibility includes supporting them in their endeavours. 

So Cale lets it be… at least for now.

Tap

A silver kitten taps Cale’s arm using her paw. It was nighttime, and the children averaging seven years old were already lying in bed with Cale. The other two children are already asleep, leaving only the redhead and the silver kitten awake.

“What is it? Can’t sleep?”

“No that’s not it. About _____…”

The half-asleep Cale woke up at the mention of the newest addition to their group. Cale is pretty sure the healer is harmless but if the children say otherwise then further evaluation is due.

“Well, they’ve been adjusting well here in Harris Village and get along with everyone.”

Cale agrees with On’s evaluation. It has been a few days since came back to Harris Village and _____ has been doing well so far. Actually, they’ve been thriving as everyone seems to like them. 

They’re shy and don't speak unless someone else initiates the conversation. However, they are respectful and helpful to everyone. Because of that, they get along well with Cale’s people.

If that’s the case then why does On’s face say that there seems to be a problem?

“There’s something weird about their body- no I think it’s their ability. We don’t know how it exactly works right?”

On had been the closest to _____ during these past few days along with the other two children. Partly because the three have taken it upon themselves to observe the healer more, and partly because their mere presence comforts the children.

The healer doesn’t smile or laugh but everyone can tell that they truly enjoy themselves whenever they are out playing or exploring with the kids and Mary.

Even though they can’t see a physical smile on the healer’s face, them being happy still lifts everyone’s moods. 

Even Cale’s

He may try to deny it, but On has caught him a couple of times already.

Speaking of the man, he is just currently petting On’s fur while waiting for her to tell him more.

“At first I thought it was just their old wounds. They were hurt pretty badly so it wouldn’t be surprising if it takes a long time to heal since they can’t heal themself. But the wounds seem to be changing places.

I’m not so sure about that one because they wear long sleeves so it's hard to see, but I also noticed that their mood seems to drastically falter when they heal someone. More than any healer I’ve seen during our travels. It’s almost as if they seem to be in pain.”

It was true, it’s hard to see any part of _____’s body because they wear a hooded robe like Mary. The healer even went as far as covering everything but their eyes with cloth[2]. This was because they didn’t want to bother Raon with a disguise.

“We can’t be sure yet about the wounds but the other things might just be because they aren’t in optimal condition yet. They have always had a weak body. For now, I’ll them to lessen their use of their healing powers.”

With that On’s mind was put to ease and she finally fell asleep.

However, another person’s mind is not at ease.

Cale who was supposed to be slacking off felt a sense of worry. Experience from reading so many fantasy novels gave him an inkling as to how _____’s ability might work.

But nothing is confirmed yet so he set his worries aside for now and resorted to observing.

While they were in Harris Village nothing seemed out of place. Well, honestly how could there be when everything is so peaceful? The only things they were healing were minor scratches and wounds that mostly stemmed from accidents or training.

When they got to the main territory though…

To be precise it was during the festival when they were looking for hidden experts in the territory. _____ noticed the scratches and wounds on Lily’s body from training and wanted to heal them.

Of course, they didn’t say anything but at this point, Cale knows them well enough to see what they want.

So Cale told the healer to go ahead and heal Lily, and replenish her energy while they were at it too.

They did and Cale didn’t see anything unusual. But then again it’s not like Lily was badly injured. The worst thing she got was this long scratch-like wound from her forearm to below her elbow. Therefore Cale that would be the end of it and he’d have to find another chance to see if his suspicions were correct.

“Healer-nim are you okay? That scratch looks pretty fresh.”

Hans’ voice made Cale turn around to see what he was talking about.

All of them are currently roaming around the night market. _____ in particular was looking at a stall that sells hand-made stuffed toys. It ranges from fluffy teddy bears to cute crocheted dolls. 

When Cale turned to see what was going on, he did so in a way that looked as if he was just looking around the market and not listening to their conversation. He could see the healer midway to reaching a red teddy bear that was holding some kind of silver shield. 

Is it just him or does that toy oddly look like him?

Anyways ignoring the cute but oddly designed teddy bear, Cale could see that the healer’s sleeves rolled down because the placement of the teddy bear was pretty high. Because of that, their arm could be seen, and that arm was full of scars.

“Ah yes, Hans-ssi- I mean Hans. I got this earlier but it doesn’t hurt.”

“I see, but it would still be better to put some bandages over it.”

“Yes, I’ll make sure to do that when we get home.”

The scars kind of look like Lily’s scratches but one could argue that it was from _____’s wounds a few weeks ago.

However, there was no denying that a big scratch looked just like Lily’s wound from earlier.

Sure it looks better than what Lily had but Cale knows it’s the same thing.

But accusations are just accusations, Cale still doesn’t have solid proof. It could be that it wasn’t actually Lily’s wound and they just got injured earlier as there were a lot of people.

Cale also doesn’t think he should suddenly just bring it up. He doesn’t want to cause unwarranted worry and panic when he and On are still speculating things.

So he lets it go for now.

He continued strolling at the night market to look for hidden experts and buy whatever the kids wanted.

And if that shopping haul included that one red teddy bear with a shield that’s current in Raon’s spacial dimension so they could give it later to _____ even though they didn’t ask for it?

Let’s just go with Cale’s reasoning that the kids persuaded him to buy it.

[1] was gonna use -ssi at first but the rules for using ssi confuse the more I read about it. I didn't want to use Cale-nim because it's Choi Han's signature. Anyways just think of their relationship as like a sunbae and hoobae at work since reader is working for Cale now.

[2] kinda like alberu's appearance when he went to the jungle as a dark elf.

[animehideout]

Hiiii could you please add INTP for your MBTI series? 🩷🩷🩷

Your MBTI, Your Relationship With JJK Characters Part 6

INTP + ESFP

Check out Part 5 here

check out part 7 here

a/n: Thank you Anon, @tojiiismyhusband @system753 @venus-xxoo for requesting INTP. Also thank you @suchasecretiveninja for reading 🫶🏻💕 I hope you enjoy these headcanons.

INTP:

Gojo Satoru = Fiancé

As an introvert who relies on the power of mind, I think you'll be fine having a loud extrovert as your partner; Gojo Satoru. INTP appreciates an open-minded partner who is willing to engage with them in intellectual conversations, challenges and debates, and Gojo is the one. INTP has a unique sense of humor that couldn't be understood by everyone, so with Gojo being witty, he'll find no problem in matching your vibe and continuing with your jokes even in serious situations, making the relationship even more enjoyable. Gojo is egocentric, so your wittiness would humble him everytime. INTPs prioritize logic, but also crave emotional connection which is the case for Satoru, he's so affectionate with you, and willing to satisfy your emotional needs. A balance between intellectual discussion and emotional support. Also both of you value independency so none of you feels restricted in the relationship. Let's not forget that Gojo is an ENTP so you're basically his introverted version.

Megumi Fushiguro = Friend

INTP values friendships that align with intellectual curiosity, and with Megumi being an intellectual himself with smart ideas, you'd totally become hooked. You would engage in deep existential conversations, debate and explore abstract concepts, while at the same time you respect each other solitude and independence without forcing your opinions on each other. Megumi is an honest person and honesty is something that INTP values. You are a fan of constructive criticism and feedback, you accepted it as long as it makes you grow mentally. Despite being logical most of the time you still have warm emotions which is the heart of your friendship.

Toji Fushiguro = Has a crush on you

INTPs are determined despite being a huge procrastinators. Toji likes how logical and rational you are and how you neglect your feelings when taking decisions and life choices. Despite being an introvert you engage well in conversations in public making you look like as if you are an extrovert. You are good at making your voice and ideas heard and understood. Toji appreciates your self-confidence even though you hide a lot of anxiety inside of you. He is also charmed by your mockery for situations that others may find scary, but you manage to find a humor in them, even though your humor serves as a coping mechanism. All these qualities made Toji drawn to you.

Ryomen Sukuna = Love hate relationship

Sukuna loves you but hates you at the same time. Despite him seeing humans as inferiors, he can't help the attraction he has for your badass side. He is attracted to your analytical thinking and overly logical mindset. As the king of curses, he sees human emotions as a weakness and burden so seeing a human who actually relies on their mind and neglect feelings intrigued him. Your unique and controversial thinking is also another hook for his interest. Your witty side completely swept him off his feet, you're kind of similar in this. Having a mocking and quirky kind of humor is kinda relatable for him. But at the same time he hates your resistance. INTPs worship independence and freedom, they completely oppose submission to someone else and don't accept forced rules. Let's not forget that Sukuna is an extrovert so extroverts that want to forcefully dominate introverts for perceiving them as shy individuals who are unable to defend themselves is a type that INTPs can't stand and that's how the tension / hate between you too was born.

ESFP:

Aoi Todo = Boyfriend

ESFP is a lively and affectionate partner you, totally match Todo energy. Your presence keeps him recharged, your energy and enthusiasm are infectious. Despite him being strong both physically and mentally he still needs your affection to function properly. INTP infuses excitement and passion in the relationship. Given that both of you and Todo are extroverts you thrive on social interactions and enjoy spending time together doing fun and spontaneous activities. You also have similar love languages. Both of you are also sensors so you have an awareness of each other's discomfort which brings a huge understanding between the two of you.

Geto Suguru = Rival

One thing that was able to make you consider Geto as your enemy; lack of emotions and empathy. ESFPs are highly emotional individuals they are expressive and very sympathetic towards others. Geto's ruthless side clashes with your nature, effortlessly creating a hurdle. His behaviors choices and mindset go against your principals and values leading to a significant conflict. You can connect with trustworthy people but with him there's no connection, you believe that empathetic individuals can't be trusted as they only care about their own desires without taking into account other people's well-being. On the other hand, Geto sees you as weakling and a burden on society for simply being an emotionally oriented.

Kamo Noritoshi = Source of comfort.

As someone who has dealt with a lot, lacking the families' warmth in his life, he always find himself indirectly dependent on you for some comfort. ESFP excels at expressing empathy through both words and actions Despite Noritoshi skills at hiding his emotions, you as a sensor you can sense his troubled spirit and provide for him a safe space by acknowledging and understanding his feelings without judgment and serve as a listener when he's ready to open up. Aside from comfort you also radiate a contagious positive energy that can break through the toughest walls. It makes ESFPs happy knowing that they had a positive impact on people around them.

Thank you for reading, remember this piece of writing is just for fun, also IMO so it's not necessarily accurate ✨

[mithrilhearts]

Fanfic is supposed to be fun first and foremost.

The amount of disrespect I have seen lately regarding creators is both shocking and disgusting, especially when coming from other creators, and I honestly can't stay quiet about it any longer.

Maybe I'm looking at a lot of this very closely considering I've recently taken an indefinite break from one part of creating I once really enjoyed due to such disregard for my time and effort (rip gif making), but to see such careless comments and treatment for fic authors too??? BY OTHER FIC AUTHORS???

Isn't the world already cruel enough? We should be inviting in positivity and appreciation for the works of others. To celebrate the victories and accomplishments around something that is already nerve wrecking enough as it is. We should not be cultivating a circle where tearing authors apart is acceptable, regardless of if you liked a story or not.

Would you want it done to your works???

Fandom spaces should be fun. Fanfic is a free thing, typically done in what little free time we writers have, and shared with other people for the sake of having FUN. We are not professionals. This is not our full time job. We are not paid for it. Yet to treat fanfic like a professional literary circle is just...wrong. Criticism (constructive only, and when asked for it) is fine, and if you want to shit talk in your DMs to someone else, go for it, but to outright tear someone apart for their FREE fanfic that they wrote to HAVE FUN and ENJOY the fandom with other people in a public space for all eyes (including the author themselves) to see?

Gross.

We are all from different walks of life, and have different experiences that impact why we may or may not go about fic a certain way. Some of us don't speak English as our first language, and some don't go about having a beta reader, or are on a time crunch for an event, etc. You don't know someone's life, and have zero right to talk down another creator because they don't meet your small narrow-minded criteria of what is “good”. What's “bad” and “tear apart” worthy to you, may be a gem of a story to someone else.

There is no room for “if you hated xyz's work, come talk about it with us!”, and if this is something you feel is welcome in any community, fandom, social setting....DO BETTER.

 And do not interact with me.

[f1daydreamers]

𝐌𝐲 𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐞 [𝐎𝐏𝟖𝟏]

gif credits: @u-u-piastri81

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Fem!Reader

Summary: Oscar is a visitor at your first art exhibition – not exactly his scene – but it's one that he contributed to financially to help you out, an upcoming artist he's taken a bit of a liking to.

Warnings: criticism but not always constructive, fluff, Reader and Oscar being cute, this man in a suit (audience may faint from the gifs), angst, maybe Oscar is a little out of character but I just upped his rizz by a solid 20% because I love him but he's way too shy to do any of this methinks :)

A/N: I know nothing about this profession icl but I got major black tie and exclusive event vibes from the gifs so this is what came out of it. I did a ton of research to make sure it wasn't too unrealistic but experience beats knowledge so if you guys read any things that need some correction, lmk!

Yeah, I never expected this to be so long but once I got to writing, I couldn't stop so hey, enjoy!

Word Count: 4.6k words (17 mins reading time avg)

…

Safe to say, this wasn’t Oscar’s scene.

Standing among collectors, art enthusiasts, curators, and industry professionals meant feeling a little out of place was a tad understated.

But he wanted to be here tonight. Of course, being invited is one thing but accepting the invitation comes with a whole new world of formalities he hadn’t prepared for.

You hadn’t noticed him yet, busy greeting and socialising with what looked like a few critics and journalists.

The notebooks in their hands were a dead giveaway but your hand drumming on your leg was another. You were anxious.

Oscar took a sip of his drink, the one he was offered when he received an entry pass coming through the venues' doors. He knew how much this evening meant to you, both in the months of planning and the dreams that preceded it.

Initially, the idea seemed farfetched, but as you dove straight into creating the collection, photographing it, staying up late to create statements that wholly captured the essence of your creative process, the once exciting prospect of submitting it to a gallery felt somewhat dissatisfying.

In a few conversations with Oscar, you’d shared your aspirations of seeing your portfolio bask in the limelight. However, the reality of organising a self-funded exhibition in a rented space would blow your budget out of the water.

You don’t know at what point but he’d made the decision to donate a significant sum of money to your artist fund, covering a major portion of the exhibition's expenses.

It helped you realise all those curious questions about possible venues, dates, and basic costs weren’t just to fuel his enthusiasm, but to sincerely offer his support.

You were grateful beyond what words could describe, and the least you could do was ask him to be here today.

You were nervous partially because you had critics and community leaders alike wandering around the space, conversing about your work you’d spent years dedicating blood, sweat and tears to.

But you were also nervous because he was here tonight.

Even if you’d drawn a squiggly line on a blank canvas, Oscar would marvel at it like it was the most beautiful thing on this planet, but tonight was when he was finally seeing your work in all its completion.

He brought your vision to life and the last thing you wanted to do was make him think his investment was a waste.

Last you’d checked, you hadn’t seen his brown wavy hair anywhere around the venue, his innocent smile playing on your mind even when you were entranced in conversation with fellow artists.

You stepped in front of a painting no one else currently seemed to be trained on, focusing on inhaling and exhaling your breaths, fidgeting with your fingers by your sides.

Tonight, was the most important day of your career by a mile.

“Excuse me.” Someone spoke up behind you and you inhaled a deep breath before whisking around to greet them. But your eyes grew soft, and your smile grew amicably at the man glancing downwards back at you.

“Do you know where I could find the host of the evening?” He asked, his smile mirroring yours, fiddling with the stem of his wine glass.

"Oscar," you breathed out, and the F1 driver had to force himself to disregard the palpable sense of relief that accompanied the utterance of his name.

The way it effortlessly rolled off your tongue, it left him wanting to hear you say it repeatedly.

“You made it.” He nodded his head, “I did.” Initially, he had doubts about attending, but considering the venue was conveniently located close to his hotel near Silverstone and his flight to Budapest wasn't until Monday evening, he managed to find the time to come.

You drew in a breath, "you look good." Your compliment was genuine, whenever you'd met up with Oscar or came across photos on Instagram, he was either in racing gear or in casual outfits. To see him in a suit was different. A good different.

"Thanks. Pretty sure I should be counting my breaths though." You chuckle as he looks down at himself, the shirt was a little smaller than he would've liked.

A testament to how life in Formula 1 was like and that his neck size had grown exponentially.

"Each one could be your last," you joked, adding on and he nodded.

"Exactly." His laugh culminated into a final chuckle, melting into a warm smile.

When you looked away, seeing the waiters you'd hired tonight refilling cups as people wandered around, Oscar took the opportunity to let his eyes drag over your figure.

"You look beautiful," his compliment drew a smile from you.

You briefly cast your gaze downward before lifting it to his chest then finally up to his eyes. "Thank you, Oscar."

He responded only with a curt nod; his eyes trained on your face before he tore them away to have a look around him.

"How's it going?"

You hummed, thinking about your answer. "It's okay. There's a few paintings that are getting lots of attention, others a little less."

"Did you expect that?" He asked and you reasoned, you knew when you began this collection that people would naturally gravitate more towards some pieces anyway, that's the advice you were given everywhere you went.

"Yeah, I'd be lying if I said I didn't." Oscar took a sip of some liquid courage before pointing at the painting you'd just been standing in front of with the rim of his glass.

"I like this one." You turned as he took steps towards it, his shoulder grazing yours. "This is the last one." You mentioned as he skimmed over the statements planted on the wall next to the artwork.

"I think it's an elderly couple, and the mirrors all around them are portals into a specific memory of their relationship." He said undisputedly. You look up at him, your mouth parting slightly in surprise.

"Yeah, how did you figure that out so quickly?"

"It's almost like you were brainstorming ideas to me on call a few months ago." You scoff, rolling your eyes but ultimately impressed by his memory.

He hadn't spoken much during that phone call, so you'd assumed he wasn't paying much attention to your endless rambles.

"I never realised you were actually listening." You softly said and Oscar turned his head to look at you.

"Every word." He reassured, and a warm feeling encompassed your chest at his affirmation.

His gaze traced over the painting once more. While he had never hesitated to express his belief in your talent, seeing your artwork displayed in such a way stirred a whirlwind of emotions inside of him.

He was proud of you and excited for you, knowing that you had undertaken this journey for your own sake, garnering an array of artistic admirers. It's no mean feat to organise an event like this, take a risk so early on in your career.

"I don't know how I'll ever be able to repay you." You snap him out of his thoughts, turning your body towards him, standing a few feet away.

Oscar mimicked your movements, turning so he was facing you, and placed his now empty glass on a bar tray that a waiter had extended to him, refusing a refill.

"Why do you think you need to repay me? Remember, it was a donation." He said matter-of-factly. You let out a sigh.

Despite his repeated assurances that he expected nothing in return, you couldn't shake off the feeling of indebtedness that lingered in your thoughts.

You found yourself dwelling on the late-night conversations, wondering if your eagerness to discuss your plans had inadvertently conveyed desperation.

Your gaze drops and without hesitation, he reaches his hand out and gently slots it into yours, his thumb caressing over your skin in a soothing gesture. Your heart skips a beat or two, the warmth of his hand was relieving.

"This is the best way you can repay me. Living the dream." He smiles and you nod, finally lifting your eyes to meet his. His voice was a calming anchor amid your thoughts.

"I'll never forget how you made it possible though," a small smile graced your lips, and he let out a chuckle.

"Yeah, you never miss a chance to mention it," he quipped, his eyes dancing with amusement. You playfully rolled your eyes, a good-natured sigh escaping you as you did.

Oscar's hand retreated to his side, and a subtle longing for his touch flickered within you. Nevertheless, you mask it with a smile that grew as you exchanged a couple more jokes.

...

He courteously held the door ajar, giving a nod to a man entering the bathroom who appeared to appreciate the gesture. Letting the door close behind him, Oscar took out his phone to check the time.

Absentmindedly, he began scrolling through his notifications: a mix of sports updates, a message from his mum, one from Mark. Yet, none seemed particularly urgent.

Just as he was about to tap on one of the notifications, his attention was drawn upward to the sound of your voice.

You were engaged in conversation with a man, his journal held in his hands, and sunglasses perched atop his head. Oscar's gaze briefly went back to his phone screen; he made no overt effort to eavesdrop.

Despite this, fragments of your conversation found their way to his ears anyway.

"I must say, your work is quite disappointing. The lack of technical skill is evident in every piece." Oscar's eyebrows furrow as he observes openly, a marked departure from his earlier disinterested demeanour.

You clear your throat as you try to collect yourself, bringing your fingers up to your mouth to hide your quivering lip.

You had previously cautioned yourself that not everyone will like your work, but experiencing such candid criticism directly was far more destructive than you could have expected.

"Um, okay. What sort of things did you not like about it?" You asked, trying to find some sort of valuable insight from such a respected critic in your community.

"The colours are garish and clash horribly. It's clear that you have no understanding of colour theory or composition." You nod, gathering some form of strength to just take his words on the chin but you were failing rather miserably. Your stomach was sinking, and your eyes were watering slowly.

"It's a shame that your efforts have resulted in such subpar creations." Your jaw tightens and as you scramble for the right words to respond with in your mind, a hand presses into your lower back from behind.

"Excuse me. I want to purchase a piece, but I can't seem to find your sales assistant." The accent is unmistakable, and you muster a smile as you turn to face him.

"I'll help you." Your voice is unsteady, your emotions deflated.

"Thank you," Oscar responds, though his gaze carries a hint of concern. He moves to follow you but before he can do so, the critic extends his hand to grasp his arm, waiting until he's certain you're out of earshot.

"Coming from a collector, don't bother." He smirks, his conviction clear. Yet, the F1 driver's face remains impassive.

"Sorry, I don't remember asking you. Now, if you don't mind." He looks down at the grip on his arm, his fist clenching by his side. The critic seems taken aback at the blank expression looking back at him, devoid of any gratefulness.

He swallows before loosening his grip.

Oscar rounds the pillar just as you press down on the handle to the fire door exit at the distant end.

He contemplates whether he should grant you some space, but he wonders if doing so will only make matters worse.

Pausing briefly, he contemplates his choices before deciding to make his way toward the fire exit anyway. His hand firmly grasps the handle, and he proceeds to push open the door.

With your back turned towards him, you're unaware of his presence. Your palms are pressed against your face as a means of stifling your sniffles hence the closing of the door registers faintly, the sound hardly penetrating your thoughts.

It's only when the crunching of gravel beneath someone's shoes reaches your ears that you realise you're no longer alone. But oddly, you know there's only one person who it could be.

The combination of embarrassment, distress, and sheer exhaustion was what left you feeling so overwhelmingly emotional.

Aware that you don't want Oscar to witness you in this state, you quickly swipe at your cheeks, hastily erasing any traces of tears from your face.

You whisk around, smiling up at him and nodding your head. "I'm good Os. It's not always going to be a perfect score, right?" His heart swells at the nickname you called him, very few people did so, but hearing it from you felt special in a way.

"He's a dick," the F1 driver bluntly responds, his tone carrying a hint of anger.

You chuckle softly, but the sigh that follows is slightly shaky. A wave of heaviness crashes over you again as the critic's hurtful words echo in your mind, your stomach sinking in response.

Oscar picks up on the shift of emotion and his eyes soften at your teary and lowering expression.

Without a word, he opens his arms and pulls you into an embrace. You don't resist; instead, you bury your face in his shoulder, your shoulders trembling as silent tears escape your eyes.

His arms encircle you tightly, offering a comforting refuge as your emotions spill over again.

His chest rises and falls with each steady breath, the rhythm providing you with some comfort despite how irritated you're getting at yourself for letting one conversation bother you this much.

As he holds you, his chest aches both for your vulnerability and the anger he feels towards the critic who provoked it. You reluctantly pull away after a minute or so, a mixture of gratitude and sadness in your eyes.

But in the moment, you can't help but feel that the money he donated for the exhibition might have gone to waste, that your efforts fell short.

Disappointing your clients is business but disappointing him felt personal, he was the reason you even had a chance to do this, and it'd turned out horribly.

"I let you down," you say quietly, and Oscar's eyebrows knit together as he studies your expression.

"How? Every piece I love, Y/N." He responds, placing his hand on your forearm, his touch warm. It sends a flurry of goosebumps over your skin which you're sure he would've picked up on considering his attention to detail.

He positions his index finger under your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes which you do. Your legs suddenly feel like they're incapable of keeping you upright, your face warming under his gaze.

"You didn't let me down." He whispers.

Oscar's concern remains palpable as his hand doesn't fall back to his side. His eyes hold a depth of emotion, the colours in his eyes becoming more distinct.

The connection that you can sense increases, and it's as if the unspoken understanding between you becomes more profound in that moment.

His cologne surrounds you but it's his gaze that flickers to your lips, a fleeting but unmistakable gesture. You realise that he's leaning in closer and there's a fraction of a second when it feels like the world around you fades.

The possibility of his lips meeting yours feels tantalisingly close.

But just as the moment deepens, you're both interrupted by one of the assistants, their voice breaking through the charged atmosphere.

"Sorry," the assistant interjects, sounding somewhat hurried. "There're a few clients waiting to speak with you Y/N."

Oscar slowly pulls back; he tucks in his bottom lip between his teeth and his expression shifts from one of intimacy to one of polite neutrality.

He offers you a subtle smile, the connection lingering between you even as the assistant's words redirect your attention.

"Of course," you reply, your voice steady despite quite the hurricane of emotions storming inside of you. You look to the assistant, ready to face the responsibilities of the exhibition once again. As you move away, you steal a glance at him, his gaze locked onto you for a moment longer before he nods.

That damned connection between you and Oscar remains, but now only punctuated by unspoken possibilities.

...

"Thank you, ma'am." you say with a warm smile as the elderly woman clasps your hand, offering kind words about your artwork while draping her shawl over her shoulders.

Once she'd left, you looked around to see if there was anyone else remaining in the space. Oscar had left a while ago considering he was on a flight tomorrow to Budapest.

Though a tinge of disappointment lingered within you, you understood and bid him goodnight.

You wrapped up a little later than you would've liked, a couple of your pieces had sold so you had to coordinate transport for them.

For the remaining few, you'd wrapped them up, gathered the papers for each one before loading them into the van to have them delivered back to your studio.

Oscar eventually made it back to the space he'd rented on Airbnb, staying in a hotel for a week definitely wasn't something he was fond of doing, a neatly packaged box of takeout planted on the small table.

He threw the crumpled paper bag into the bin and settled onto the couch, his phone in hand. He opened Instagram, scrolling through his feed to pass the time it'd take for him to get sleepy.

As he tapped through the stories, your profile picture caught his eye. He felt a smile tug at his lips as he watched it whole. The familiar scenes of the exhibition unfolded before him – videos capturing the venue, the artwork.

His gaze lingered on the art as if he hadn't been there tonight, his mind wandering into the world you had created. It wasn't just the work itself that interested him; it was the glimpse they offered into your mind, your perspective, and the emotions you poured into your work.

The admiration he felt for your creativity was intertwined with the growing fondness he was developing for you as a person.

Once you'd reached home, you dropped on to the couch with a sigh of relief that the day was done.

So, when your phone started vibrating besides you, you groaned and brought it up to your ear, not bothering to take a look at the caller ID.

"Y/N," you closed your eyes and waited for the other person to respond. They stuttered first before speaking up, "should I - should I reply with my name, or do we just get into the conversation?"

You lightly gasped, chuckling and straightening up on the couch. "Oscar, sorry. I'm still in work mode I think." You rubbed your forehead and the F1 driver poked through his food with a fork on the other end.

"No harm done. You back from the venue?" He asked and you stretched your legs out in front of you, fiddling with the hem of your dress.

"Yeah, only just. Perfect timing, Piastri." He smiled at your response, "I pride myself in that."

"I'm sure you do." You joked teasingly and fell back on the couch again. The similar onset of warmth and goosebumps from earlier bubbled up again inside of you.

"I thought you would've knocked out by now." Oscar hums, swallowing his food as he traps his phone between his ear and shoulder, throwing the now empty box on to the coffee table in front of him.

"Yeah well, I needed to eat. Luckily for me, there was a long queue at every takeaway place tonight." He retorted sarcastically and you scoffed, "typical London."

He agreed wordlessly before shifting his body horizontally, propping his head up on the armrest, his legs splaying over the leather sofa.

"What did you end up getting?" He made a humming sound as he reached for the receipt he'd tossed carelessly aside, bringing it up to eye level.

"Caribbean chicken curry." He said slowly, squinting to read the half-printed letters. Your stomach rumbling beneath you helped you remember that you too hadn't eaten for majority of the day. Your last meal was breakfast with a few snacks you always have on hand.

"Sounds good. I'd kill for some chicken curry right now." You mumble and Oscar's head turns to look up at the clock hung on the wall above the television.

"How 'bout I bring some?" He asks nonchalantly and your heart skips, you stutter in your response, glancing at the digital clock blinking at you from the corner table.

"You'd do that?" You say, a little more high-pitched than you would've preferred.

He smiles, refraining to say something corny. "Yeah, well I mean it's not my bedtime for another hour so..." He trails off thus leaving you to make the decision.

You don't even care about the food anymore, your stomach is doing somersaults from the mere thought of seeing him twice in one day.

"Only if it's alright with you. If you need to sleep, please sleep." You insist and there's a pause, you could swear you hear keys jangling on the other end of the phone before Oscar confirms.

"I'll be there in a bit."

...

You're changed into some slightly more flattering pyjamas than your regular animated giraffe ones when you hear a knock on your door. Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you walk the length of the hallway and reach for the doorknob.

Giving it a couple of moments, you open the door to find Oscar standing there, a warm smile on his face that mirrors your own feelings.

He's holding a paper bag up and you smile, "my saviour. Come in."

He slides past you, toeing his trainers off and pushing them up to the wall so they weren't in the direct pathway, allowing you to lead him into the living room.

He places the bag on to your wooden dining table and you sigh in delight, the smell of the food faintly wafting out of it.

"How much do I owe you?" He shakes his head, letting you take the box out of the bag.

"Only your eternal gratitude," he replies, his lips curving into a smile as he takes in the sight of your light expression, your eyes lit with appreciation.

"You already have that." You chuckle.

Eventually, you begin eating, all the while holding a conversation. With each passing minute, a subtle worry creeps in - that he might decide to leave soon. Not that you're against him getting his rest, but your own enjoyment of his company is growing stronger by the second.

The idea of the evening ending prematurely becomes less and less appealing. The warmth of his presence, the humour in his words, the hesitance you initially felt about him leaving transformed into a silent plea for him to stay, at least a little longer.

"I'm going to go up and use the bathroom, head over to the couch, make yourself comfortable." You insist and Oscar nods. His feelings he was aware of when he reached back to his place had tripled since he'd got here.

His leg had been bouncing the entire duration he'd been talking, he was nervous but albeit not understandably. He'd visited your place a few times now, he'd known you for nearly a year.

Nothing about the fluttery sensation in his belly, the excitement prior to seeing you, the attraction, the thoughtfulness, made any sense to him.

But at the same time, they made perfect sense. He likes you. A whole lot.

Realising he was getting a bit warm, he pulled the hoodie over his neck to reveal just a plain white tee underneath.

Tossing it on to the dining room chair he was previously sat on, he plops on to the couch, bringing the calf of his right leg up to rest on the knee of his left, his arm outstretching on the back of the couch.

You eventually return, having brushed your teeth since the aftertaste of the curry wasn’t a very pleasant one in your mouth.

“Do you piss for that long?" Oscar asks curiously, locking his phone and sliding it on to the table.

You scoff and feign offence as you sit next to him just a few inches away. "I don't actually, even if I did, what's it to you?" You tease and he shrugs, his lower arm draping off the couch casually, his fingertips brushing close to your shoulder.

"I was bored," he admits, his explanation falling a bit flat.

You raise an eyebrow, a mockingly sympathetic expression on your face. "Poor Oscar, suffering from boredom in my humble abode. My heart aches for you." He smirks, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he shakes his head at your antics.

His eyes sparkle with amusement, "Well, I must say your empathy is truly heartwarming."

"That's just me, a paragon of compassion," you quip, a mischievous glint in your eyes. His proximity has your heart racing, and you're acutely aware of the playful tension that's building between you.

He tilts his head, his gaze holding yours as he leans in slightly. "You know, I was half expecting you to beg for my forgiveness."

You roll your eyes, your gaze locked on to his, you didn't mean for them to glance down to his lips, but it didn't skip past his notice either.

Your heart was hammering in your chest and the silence that followed afterwards definitely gave Oscar enough time to be able to pick up on it.

"Please forgive me Oscar, please?" You reduce your words to a whisper and he smiles, refusing to waste another second and he instantly ducks his head to catch your lips in a fervent kiss.

His actions catch you off guard, the sensation electrifying and sending a jolt of surprise through your system.

Your thoughts scatter as the world seems to narrow down to the point of contact between your lips. The kiss is eager and filled with a mixture of longing and curiosity, as if both of you have been dancing around this moment for far too long.

Your heart continues racing, and time feels suspended as his touch sends shivers up and down your spine.

The sudden intimacy of it all is exhilarating, and you find yourself responding without hesitation, your fingers instinctively finding their way to his arm, your body moving a fraction closer to his.

A soft moan escapes you, and Oscar slides his hand beneath your top, pressing his palm against your waist. A squeeze of your skin hints at you to move back slightly, creating the room needed for him to push you down on to your back.

Your lips detach for a moment as he positions himself over you, lowering his head seconds later to press them together again.

His face was level with yours when he eventually pulled away to catch his breath, and let you catch yours, his arm propping him up besides your head.

"Isn't it your bedtime?" He chuckles softly, his fingers toying with a few strands of your hair.

"I'll just have to use the plane's naptime feature." You laugh, bringing your hand up to push his hair out of his eyes.

His gaze flickers across your face, capturing the traces of your faint smile lines and the tiny beauty mark adorning your skin.

He leans in, planting a tender kiss on the mole. Meanwhile, your fingertips journey to the nape of his neck, exploring the contours of his hair.

He grins boyishly when he picks his head up again. "I think I could stay here forever," he admits, his voice a soft confession.

You playfully raise an eyebrow. "Oh really? What if the plane's naptime feature gets jealous?"

He chuckles, a low, melodious sound. "Well, I guess it'll just have to deal with a bit of competition," he remarks before his lips find yours once again.

...

Masterlist