#it causes me a lot of unnecessary stress

[i-pray-emo-now]

Just remembered, when I was in tenth grade, I met a woman who was weirdly offended when in a conversation I mentioned I have never had papaya outside of the tiny pieces of dehydrated papaya I had in trail mix as a treat occasionally when I was younger and she was upset, not because I had "missed out" or anything, but because she deemed dehydrated fruit somehow insulting to fruit?? And then insisted on the importance of eating fresh papaya like I had somehow committed a crime by not eating it regularly and enjoying it. I tried to politely defend dehydrated fruit, because a) its just less liquid. It's still good food, you don't have to be rude about a very old food preservation process, b) some kids only get fruit that way majority of the time, and c) why does it matter if I've had papaya fresh or otherwise? Countless people in history went their whole lives not even knowing about papayas. It is fine to disagree but you don't have to be disrespectful because of it. After trying to explain any of these, she tried to justify herself by telling me, "Papayas are like apples but different."

That did not justify anything, Ms Jennifer. Now kindly step out of my way I just wanted to be polite by saying hello and acknowledging your existence, and then to get back to my class. I did not need to be yelled at about made up papaya-eating requirements in the basement reject-classes hall of the school. Why.

[elysiansparadise]

Hi Elysian! Can you share with me what placements indicate preference or tendency for isolation/ being by themselves regardless of it being a good or bad thing?

Thankyou so much!

Hello love! Of course I can. 

Preference/tendency for isolation

Although I considered many things into account for this particular topic, I focused mostly in three factors: the Moon, Saturn and 12th house. The Moon shows comfort and needs that we have, Saturn can give us independent overtones and, together with the 12th house, it usually speaks to us about isolation.

🖤Stellium in the 12th house. This house is par excellence the house of solitude and isolation. People with a stellium in this house often prefer to do things alone and spend their time on their own. Their isolation usually occurs for various reasons, from the search for deeper and more meaningful things, their need to recharge after a lot of contact with others, their sensitivity to their environments and even their rich internal world, in which they feel comfortable and safe.

🖤People with a Stellium in the 1st house have a high focus on self-discovery and everything related to knowing themselves better. They are highly independent people who rely on themselves in many areas of their life, which makes them reject the idea of ​​becoming too attached to others or depending on them.

🖤When someone has a Stellium in the 8th house, they usually have a strong need for privacy. They are people with a strong tendency toward introspection and who prefer to be on their own when they go through profound changes or when there is internal tension within them. They experience intense emotions and changes through their lives, which may cause them to withdraw from the external world to focus on their healing, growth, or reconstruction.

🖤Saturn in the 7th, 8th or 12th house shows us people with strong introverted tendencies and people who, in general, since they are children, face long periods of loneliness, either due to preference or because of experiences our of their control. They are people who have a tense relationship with loneliness, because although they seek it to feel safe as it is something familiar to them, there is also the fear of always being alone.

🖤Moon in the 1st or 6th house have a strong need for "me-time" either because their activities are rather calm and/or do not require others to do them, or simply because they genuinely enjoy the idea of ​​isolating themselves to take care of themselves by pampering themselves. They enjoy spending time with themselves, watching their favorite show, doing their hobbies or resting from the stress of everyday life.

🖤Moon in the 8th house or 12th house. They are people with deep emotions who would rather be alone than spend their time and energy on people who genuinely don't care about them or really know them. They look for emotional connections that are deep, that feel meaningful, which makes them selective about who they want to spend their time with.

🖤People with Virgo Moon tend to be very analytical about their emotions, so they need moments of solitude to reflect, organize their thoughts and regain emotional balance. Some of them may have been judged for their emotions or way of expressing themselves, which leads them to find security in solitude.

🖤Moon in Sagittarius. Contrary to what is said, I have seen that they are people with a strong need for introspection. They like their independence and choose to do activities that reconnect with themselves or hobbies that allow them to be on their own. These people also prioritize their pursuit of happiness, which makes them reject spending time with people who only bring negative things into their lives [criticism, toxicity or unnecessary tension].

🖤Those with Saturn in water signs are natives who usually choose to be on their own, often as a defense mechanism so as not to get hurt or betrayed. Likewise, they require time alone when it comes to managing their emotions, healing or dealing with their daily tensions. 

🖤Aries placements. I have seen it in many people around me with stelliums in Aries or with Aries in the big three. They are people who don't mind spending time with themselves and usually prefer it to save themselves the headaches or inconvenience of having to interact with people who have traits that bother them. They are individualistic and independent people and have no problem with being on their own and managing their things privately.

🖤Aquarius placements. They are people who know how to be with others but at the end of the day they need to be on their own, either to release stress or just to be able to carry out their plans or do what they want. Loneliness does not bother them and they need a lot of time alone to feel happy. I have seen this mostly in Aquarius Moons, Mercuries and Risings. 

🖤Pisces placements. They are people who can easily become overwhelmed when they are with others for a long time, which leads them to feel better when they isolate themselves. They recharge their batteries, introspect or simply rest. There is a strong need to know themselves at a deeper level, which they can get to do during their time with themselves.

🖤Chiron in air signs [Gemini, Libra or Aquarius] are common placements for people who are introverted and prefer to be alone rather than opening up to meet people. This tendency comes from the feeling of not having been heard or understood by people, so as a defense mechanism some of them usually choose to isolate themselves.

🖤Ruler of the 1st house in the 12th house or vice versa shows us natives who seek solitude, from getting to know themselves better or exploring themselves, to recharging their batteries. They are people who throughout their lives experience periods of loneliness and learn to find comfort in this. They can use their loneliness as a way to be themselves without fear or shame.

🖤Ruler of the 4th house in the 12th house or vice versa can be a great indicator as well, since the 4th house also gives us a clue about what gives us comfort or what we feel emotionally safe with, that its ruler falls in the 12th house. It speaks of the possibility of finding peace or emotional well-being in solitude. Natives with this overlay can feel safe when they are on their own.

🖤Ruler of the 7th house in the 12th house or vice versa shows us people who feel that they do not fit in with anyone and, in order not to drain their energy, to not be hurt or to avoid disappointment, they usually choose to be on their own. They are people who feel that it is better to be alone than in bad company. 

🖤Ruler of the 11th house in the 12th house of vice versa indicates a person who prefers solitude or very small circles of friends. They are people who find happiness in their solitude, because they can do their hobbies and dedicate more time to themselves. They don't like trying to fit in where they know they aren't comfortable in the first place.

🖤Any air house [3rd, 7th or 11th] ruler in the 8th house or vice versa. These people are very protective of themselves and are very focused on knowing themselves very well, spending a lot of time with themselves. They don't like wasting time with people they genuinely don't want to be with or people who aren't what they want.

[lowkeyrobin]

Hawk x sensitive!reader where even after he becomes all "tough" and "badass" he's still gentle with reader. I just need fluff and everything is so sickly sweet like I want my teeth to rot.

- ♠️

(again i forgot which one it was)

YES OMG ☹️☹️☹️☹️ ; I'm screaming and crying were gonna fight wtf ; thank u for requesting some cobra kai stuff love u bae ; also sorry ab this cause I had no idea what to do here

HAWK MOSKOWITZ ; the one i love

summary ; while hawk is off becoming mean and badass, he's still nice to you, knowing you're kind of sensitive, and he doesn't want to lose his s/o

warnings ; language, talk of physical violence

track ; dedicated to the one i love, the mamas & the papas

word count ; 849

masterlist

Eli, these past few months, had changed. A lot. You didn't know whether you liked it or not either. He wasn't even Eli anymore, he was Hawk.

He'd taken on karate, got a new haircut, and completely changed his demeanor and personality. You couldn't lie, he looked cool, especially while showing off his moves, but what wasn't cool was him getting into unnecessary drama.

You'd seen some things online, though you tend not to stick around for any of it. You were caught up by Eli himself, considering you did online school. The bullying from Sam LaRusso and her friends had gotten too bad long ago, forcing you to hide away for the rest of your high school career.

You considered this transition good for Eli, as he was turning a new page in his story. He was able to defend himself, he was confident, and he wasn't being bullied anymore. But, at the same time, he was unrecognizable.

It wasn't in a bad way, not yet, at least. But this "Hawk" guy, wasn't your boyfriend, Eli. You fell into the arms of Eli Moskowitz, not Hawk.

Thankfully, he knew how to retain his relationship. Thank God his standards didn't raise, nor did his ego, as he changed.

You were slightly sensitive, you'd say, kind of emotional, mentally thin, maybe.

You had a bad day, though. That's all that mattered in this second.

You were trying to deep clean your room because it was nasty, and you were already mad. Nothing was working how you wanted it to. Your grades were dropping because you were becoming depressed and unmotivated, and you just wanted to see your boyfriend again. But of course, he'd been busy with karate and working out.

You yell out of pure frustration as you throw a pillow across the room toward your door before crashing onto your bed.

"Ow"

You quickly look up to see Eli standing in your doorway, having been hit by that pillow.

"Fuck, sorry" You mumble, proceeding to hide your face in another pillow that lays on your bed.

He slowly and cautiously steps in your room, picking up the thrown cushion. "What's wrong?"

"...Bad day"

He frowns, "What's wrong?"

You look up at him, spiky hair immediately catching your attention. "Can you wash out the gel before talking to me? You're intimidating looking like a badass"

He chuckles with a nod, "Yeah, I'll be right back"

You couldn't stand the mohawk. It intimidated you, like you were gonna be the next victim of his karate moves. He understood as you'd been honest about it long ago, and would often wash out his hair in the sink and use a towel to then dry his hair.

Now, his roots were dark brown, while the midsection to ends were bright blue. You'd helped him dye it, the reasoning why the bathroom sink was just barely stained with blue in the bowl.

He re-enters the room, his hair now damp, but un-styled. He sits on the bed beside you, allowing you to sit in silence with a pillow pressed against your face.

You slowly pull it away, looking up at him. You flop your back onto your mattress, staring at the ceiling.

"What's up?" He asks, his eyes gazing upon your tired and stressed expression.

You shrug, sitting up. "I hate online school, I have essentially no friends or hobbies, my proctors are shoving thirty assignments on me while I'm depressed and I need to do a million fucking other things-"

He quickly pulls you into a hug, silencing you. You accept his hug, arms draped around his shoulders as you rest your head on one of his shoulders. He does the same for you, his arms slung around your torso instead.

You groan, hiding your face from the light.

He lightly rubs your back, just trying to show you some comfort.

He speaks up after a solid minute of silence, letting you calm yourself down. "Do you want to get into karate? Or at least meet my friends? A lot of them would really like to meet you"

You shrug, unsure.

"It's okay if you don't want to"

You shrug again, your words mumbled from between his shoulder. "What if they don't like me cause I'm not like them?"

He smiles, a light chuckle escaping his lips. "Trust me, they're not gonna make fun of you or not like you in any way unless you give them a reason. And that in itself is pretty much impossible"

You nod, "Thanks"

"Is there any way I can help with your school stuff? What needs done? What can I do for you?"

"Calm down, Eli. I'll be fine. It's just when there's a lot on my mind, I stress out for no reason I guess. Like, I know everything'll be okay but... I dunno" You shrug, pulling away from his arms. "But thank you"

He nods, laying down on the bed beside you. "You tired? I am"

You nod with a smile, pulling him close to cuddle with him.

"Agh- your grip is insane!"

"Sorry"

[xxblairexxss]

A fresh start

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x singlemom!reader

Theme : Angst, fluff

Word count : 4.2k

Part 2

Requested!

In which Charles had a crush on the new member of the team without knowing he was already a good friend of her toddler.

It gets a little heavy near the end so heads up! Not proofread!

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"There seems to be a problem with the downforce. It kind of eats the tyre quite a lot."

Charles felt a touch on his hip while he was too busy listening to the engineers. Looking down, he saw a small kid patting on his leg, while the other hand seemed to be offering him something. "Hey, are you giving this to me?" He asked, pulling the headset from his ear as he crouched down.

"Yeah! My mom always gives me candy whenever I am stressed with my homework. You can—oh." The little kid fumbled with the wrapping paper that was securely wrapped around the lollipop. "I can’t take the plastic off for you. Sorry…"

"Oh, it’s okay. Let me help you." Charles twiddled with the wrapper as it went loose before he pulled it off. "There! Oh, for me? Are you sure?"

"No stress! Bye bye!" The toddler waved and sprinted off, leaving Charles with the strawberry lollipop in his hand.

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"Any idea who she is?" Charles nudged Joris and tipped his chin towards the girl who was across the room.

"She’s part of the communication executive." Joris took a quick glance and went back to his phone.

"I have never seen her before." His eyes were latched on the girl, seeing the way she talked with her hands, nodding and smiling at whatever the other girl was talking about.

"She just joined the team."

"What’s her name?" Charles nudged Joris again, causing him to heave a sigh and stand up.

"Y/N!" Joris called out.

"Joris! What the fuck?" Charles slapped his friend’s leg and looked away. The phone in his hand seemed to be looking much more interesting, though it wasn’t even turned on. While his fingers were dancing and tapping on any random buttons on his phone, his ears were listening to the conversation—well, more like listening to her voice. It was weird how he had never seen her before, but Joris seemed to be getting along with her very well.

"That was Y/N." Joris gave a smile, stealing a peep from Charles’s phone, and laughed when he saw it was on camera, capturing Charles’s face from an angle below. "Nice picture, by the way. Is that why you couldn’t stop looking at it when she was here?"

"Very unnecessary, Joris. You could have just told me her name." He threw his cap on and stood up to leave the room.

"I thought you wanted to get to know her." Joris exclaimed, seeing his best friend walking away.

"I can figure that one myself!"

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"Charlie!"

"Hey, Adam! Give me a five!" He bent down as the little one hopped and touched their hands together. This has been his fourth time seeing him, and every single time, his visit would get longer and longer. The first time he met the kid, he just dropped by to give him candy and walked away. This time, he came by with candy and shared a few little jokes and games.

"Do you always wander around the paddock alone? Your dad never gets mad." He ripped the top off the candy and handed it to the kid.

"No, mommy won’t be mad if I just stay around the red garage. Oh! Sour!" His face scrunched up, making the driver cackle.

"Oh? You’re with your mom? Dang, this is sour." He made a face and shivered as the sourness hit.

"Yeah, I’m with mommy! Daddy is…" He looked down, his bottom lips jutting out. Charles knew right away it wasn’t something light if this was the reaction coming from a 4-year-old kid, so he cut the topic short.

"You don’t have anything sweet in there? I’m not a fan of sour candy."

Adam patted his pockets and shook his head. "No more candy! I stole that from mommy. Shh, she didn’t know." He put his pointy finger on his lips and giggled.

"Your secret is safe with me, buddy. I have to go. See you around, Adam!" Charles stood up and gave the little one a pat on the head before he went to get Andrea for his short meeting before the press conference.

"This will be your..." 

Charles was slapped with what felt like a brick when it was just a file of papers, but the sting was unexpected, causing him to lean back as he covered one side of his face with his hand.

"Oh! I’m so sorry! Are you okay? Did I just slap you?"

Chuckling, he shook his head and pressed his palm on his eyes—the ones that just got slapped on. "No, no. Well, yes, I’m okay. Are you–"  Her beauty from up close astounded him, erasing all vocabularies in his head as he went blank. "You are beautiful," he muttered.

"Sorry?"

"Oh? Oh, nothing. Y/N, right?" He offered a handshake with the widest grin. "I’m Charles."

"Everyone knows who you are, Charles." You laughed, accepting the handshake. "How do you know my name? I never properly introduced myself."

"Oh, Joris told me." He answered, his eyes still on her, making him look like a fool without realising it.

"Do you have anything else to say? Because I need to." She pointed the other way. "I need to head there."

He pulled himself back to his senses and stepped aside. "Oh, sorry about that. I’m not going to hold you any longer."

"Sorry about that. Good luck in the qualifying round!"

"Oh, wait! Is this yours?" He crouched down and took the sour candies on his feet. The same one he got from the kid

"Oh, yeah! Must have slipped off my hand. Thank you!"

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"Mommy, look!"

You took the paper that he handed to you and cackled at the drawing. "What is this, sweetheart?"

"Guess, mommy! Look, I drew the moustache too." He pointed at the little lines, wearing the proudest smile.

"A moustache? Is that a cat?"

"Yes! Like the one we used to have!" He started collecting all of his marker pens and coloured pencils, placing them in his small pencil case as he saw you start packing your stuff. "Are we going back already?"

"Yeah, mommy’s all done with my work, so we can head back early. Should we go on a little date and get ice cream?" Shutting down your laptop, you placed them in the case when Adam seemed to be rushing to go somewhere with his little backpack. "Where are you going?"

"Mommy, wait! I haven’t met Charlie!"

"What even is Charlie?" You muttered, picking up the missing marker pens he had missed for rushing.

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"Hey, munchkin! I was waiting for you." Charles grinned and offered his hand for a high five. "Where have you been?"

"Oh! I’m going back already. Wait!" He sneaked his little hand into his pocket and frowned when he couldn’t find the thing he was looking for. Charles then saw him pull his arms off his small backpack and sneak his little hand inside the small compartment. "This is for you!"

"You are going home? Why?" Taking the small Mars bar from the little one, he kept it in his hand as he helped him put on his backpack again.

"Mommy’s done with her work early today, so I’m going out on a date!"

Charles grabbed his little arm before he could sprint away. "You? You are going out on a date? Wait, with who?"

"Adam!"

The driver’s facial expression went blank as he heard the voice. The little arm in his hand slipped off as he saw the little one run and hug the legs of the woman he has been dying to talk to over the past couple of months.

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"Mommy!"

You ruffled his hair as he crashed into you. "Have you met your Charlie?" Bending down, you squeezed his chubby cheeks as you took his hand in yours.

"Yes! That’s Charlie!" He exclaimed, pointing at someone.

You saw Charles still crouching down with a Mars bar in his hand. He was already looking at you as you laid your eyes on him. He looked surprised and stunned, as he didn’t seem to catch the smile you gave.

"He's—he’s yours? Adam, is your kid?" He queried, taking steps closer.

"Yeah, he’s my son. Wait–" Looking down, you cupped his little cheek. "Adam, Charlie, is Charles? Is this the friend you have been giving your candy away to?"

"Yes!" he squealed.

You thought he had been making friends with a cat or any other person, but not with an actual driver, because who would have thought he would have the most time in the world to be friends with a 4-year-old kid? "I’m so sorry if he had been bothering you. I truly had no idea about that.”

"It’s okay, Y/N. I got free candies." He showed the Mars bar he had in his hand, making you chuckle.

"I am going out on a date with mommy. Do you want to come?"

His words became a mumble as you quickly covered his mouth. "Charlie is busy, Adam." Tilting your head back and facing the driver, you asked the little one to wave before walking away. "I’ll get going now. Say bye, Adam."

"Bye, Charlie!"

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"What’s with that smile?" Joris peeked his head to look at the little kid, who kept looking back every now and then to wave his little hand at the driver.

"Nothing." Charles ripped off the Mars bar in his hand and took a bite of it, cocking his brow at Joris, who seemed to have more questions. "What?"

"Nothing." He mimicked Charles’s expression and moved away before he could get hit in the head.

"You didn’t tell me she had a kid." Charles blurted.

"I thought you wanted to figure it out yourself. Why? Does it change anything?"

"What do you mean?" He queried, taking another bite from the chocolate bar.

"Does it change your little crush on her now that you know she has a kid?"

"No, not at all. I like her even more now." He chuckled and did a double take on his friend. "Wait, how do you know I have a crush on her?"

"Because you aren’t being too discreet about it. I bet Adam knew it too. Give me that." Joris snatched the chocolate bar from the driver’s hand and took the last bite. "You shouldn’t eat too much sweet for your diet, you know."

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"Adam, I need your help." The sound of music in the room was cut off when the driver finally spoke what had been in his head for weeks. Charles was lying down on the couch in his driver room with his little friend, while the little one was too busy colouring the dinosaur from his book.

"More candy?" He asked, switching to a different colour pencil from his case.

"No, not candy. I wanted to ask your mom on a date." He put his phone away and sat up, looking at the little one full of anticipation.

"No."

"Wait, what? Why?" Charles stood up and took a seat by Adam’s side. He casually started participating in the colouring activity as he took a blue pencil and started filling in the tail section of the dinosaur. "I thought we were friends?"

"Mommy only goes on a date with me."

"She might want to go on a date with me." He assured him, helping him change to a different coloured pencil.

"I don’t want mommy to cry again, so, no. I need to go now!" He stood up and packed his colourful stuff inside his little backpack with the help of the driver.

"I won’t make her cry, Adam." Charles handed him his colouring book as the toddler stood up to leave.

"That’s what Daddy used to say too. Bye bye, Charlie!"

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"Charlie hurt?" 

"Yes, sweetheart. He crashed today, so you shouldn’t bug him, okay? Just stay here." You pinched his little cheek before handing him his iPad. "Not too long. Turn it off when mommy says so, alright?"

Adam did listen to you and stayed in the break room while you sorted out a few things before race day tomorrow. There wasn’t any meeting until the next hour, so you got to do your work while listening to your kid watch Coco ten times this weekend.

Until you heard a knock on the door,

"Hi. Uhm, I’m looking for Adam." Your eyes widened as the driver peeked his head inside the room.

"Charlie!" He put his iPad to the side and hopped off the couch to run straight into Charles’s arms.

"Why didn’t you come to see me?"

"Mommy said I shouldn’t bug you. Are you okay?" You chuckled when he cupped the driver’s cheeks with his small hands.

"Yeah, I’m okay. Wait, actually, not really."

To that, Adam gasped and covered his mouth with his hands. "Oh, no! You need candy?"

"Come here." Charles pulled your son to the end of the room, so you were no longer able to eavesdrop on the conversation.

You saw those two start whispering something, giggling, and laughing while you were left out. "Bye Charlie!" He waved as the driver trod, leaving the break room.

"Bye, munchkin. See you, Y/N. You look beautiful in a ponytail, by the way."

You were taken back by the sudden compliment, and your hand went to stroke your hair now that he mentioned it. "But I always have my hair tied?"

"Yeah, that’s what I meant." He gave a wink before walking away, leaving you and your toddler, who seemed to find the whole situation funny.

"What did he tell you?" You tried to pry into their business, acting casual by going back to your work.

"It’s a secret!" He winked, which looked more like a face scrunch as he went back on his iPad, making you frown in confusion.

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"Go! Open the door!"

"I can’t. Give me a second."

"Why?"

"I’m nervous, buddy."

"I’ll open it for you!"

"No, no!"

You were staying in the break room, playing with your phone while your little one stayed outside, watching an army of people in the paddock celebrate the drivers on the podium. He had promised to stay just outside the room so you wouldn’t have to worry about him being in the crowd, but minutes later, you kept hearing whispers right outside the door. You weren’t sure who the owner of the other one was, but you were so sure one of them belonged to your son.

"Mommy?" 

"The door is not locked, love. Just come in." You replied and went back to your phone, expecting him to walk in, but he didn’t.

"Go, Charlie!”

"Is there anything wrong?" Placing the phone away, you pushed the door open and saw that your toddler kept on pushing the driver towards your door. "Charles? Do you need anything?"

"Y/N. Actually–"

"Charlie wants to ask you out on a date!" Adam cut in.

The words made you flabbergasted. That was impossible. Why would he ask you out on a date when every woman he met on a daily basis dressed up way better and had better body shape than you?

And they were single. While you were a divorcee, you even had a kid.

"Stop joking around, Adam. Leave Charlie alone, okay?" Adam hid behind the driver as you tried to grab his arm, giggling while hugging Charles’s legs.

"Would you go out on a date with me?"

You gave a dry smile and shook your head right away. "Sorry, Charles. I have a kid, remember? Who’s going to take care of him if I—“

"Joris will play with me! Right, Charlie?" He pulled on the Ferrari’s shirt, chuckling as he felt Charles’s hand on his neck.

"Joris agreed to take care of Adam for one night. They are best friends." Charles assured.

"I can’t, Charles. I’m so sorry."

He followed you inside while Adam stayed outside to find Joris. "But why?" You ignored him. "Y/N, why?"

"I should be asking you that. Why me? I don’t get it. I have a kid, Charles." You took your phone and started taking your laptop bag.

"And what’s wrong with that?"

"Nothing’s wrong, but you have all those hot girls ready for you to ask them out. I am way out of your league, Charles." 

He held your arm to stop you from walking out of the room. "I got Adam’s permission, and I promised him that I was going to take you out. Please give me a chance."

"How did you get his permission?"

You saw him awkwardly smile as he scratched the back of his neck. "He promised me his permission if I ended up in the top 5 this weekend."

Laughing, you rolled your eyes at how ridiculous the deal was.

"Is that a yes?" He tilted his head, having a little faith in how the tension in the room seemed to die down.

"Fine. Just one date."

To that, he bit his lips and threw up a fist. "Yes! You’ll be in Maranello next weekend, yeah? I’ll pick up."

"Sure, I’ll send you the address."

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

"Be nice to Joris, alright?"

"Mommy looks very pretty!" He placed both of his palms on your cheeks and gave you a kiss before hugging you by the neck. "Have fun with Charlie! Let me know if he makes you cry, and I’ll." He showed you his little fist. "I’ll hit him!"

Giggling, you kiss him back on his cheek. "I thought you said he was nice."

"Yeah, Charlie is very nice. That’s why I let him take mommy out on a date." He ran towards the main door as Joris helped put his sneakers on. "Bye mommy!"

Back then, when he was born, you always worried if you were able to raise him all on your own. If you could take on both responsibilities as his mother and father figure at a young age, You were grateful enough, as he had grown up to be a very gentle and cheerful kid, despite what he had witnessed occasionally whenever your ex-husband paid a visit. He was never a good dad. He never wanted to be one. Adam barely called him dad. He never knew what it felt like to have a dad, but he would always reassure you that he was glad enough to have the perfect mom. Though you tried to keep your marriage problems between you and your ex-husband, Adam was smart enough to figure out what his dad was like. Whenever your ex-husband came by, you would always get bruises on your body. Maybe that was why your little one grew up to be very protective of you, despite his age.

Charles had told you he was a few minutes away, so you weren’t expecting to see your former spouse when you opened the door.

"Where are you going?" He pushed the door and walked inside as if he had any right to do so.

"It’s none of your business. Please leave."

"It’s my house. Where’s Adam? And why are you all dressed up?" He scanned you up and down, smirking as if you looked humorous.

"Leave, please."

"Come on, baby. I haven’t seen you for months. I have missed you."

You pressed your lips into a thin line, feeling the tears well up in your eyes. Whenever you were home, he would always come by to ask for sex. He would beat you up if you ever resisted any of his attempts, but you would rather get beaten than be in the same bed with him again. You were just glad Adam wasn’t here to witness it all again. "Leave me alone!" You yelled, pushing him off from pinning your body against the wall.

"You fucking bitc—who’s that?" His hand, which was about to hit you in the face, came to an abrupt stop when the doorbell rang.

"It’s no one." The doorbell rang again.

"Go and open the door. It’s fucking annoying." He pushed you on your head, making you jerk forward towards the door.

You wiped on your tears that rolled down your cheeks before twisting the lock as you were greeted by Charles, with his dimples that went shallow as soon as he saw you.

"Y/N? Are you crying?"

You let out a sob and tilted your face away from the tears that rolled down your cheeks again. "I’m sorry, I can’t make it today."

"What’s wrong? Did something happen?" He gently tilted your face and felt his stomach drop when he saw your broken expression. "What happened, Y/N?"

"I–" You sobbed again.

"She wants you to leave, kid."

Charles pushed the door wider as he walked in and stood in front of you. "Who are you?"

"I’m her husband."

You felt his hand on your arm as he pulled you closer; his gaze was still locked on the older guy.

Charles let out a chuckle, seeing how absurd this whole situation was. "So, you are the ex-husband. Well, I don’t think it was me who wasn’t supposed to be in here."

"Kid, this is my house, and that bitch that you are touching is mine." He snarled.

"Don’t call me that. And she’s not yours." Charles furrowed at the man, feeling your hand gripping his arm.

"Ah, so she’s yours now? Did you claim her yet?"

"She’s not mine. She’s no one's possession because she’s not a fucking item. You should leave." His teeth were clenched as his gaze pierced the man. "Leave before I call the cops on you."

"I’ll get going first, baby. See you when this motherfucker is gone, yeah?" You flinched when you felt his cold skin on your cheek.

"Don’t fucking touch her." Charles yanked his hand away and locked the door after the older man was gone, leaving you and him alone.

"Did he hurt you?" Charles cupped on your face, heaving a sigh of relief when there wasn’t anything serious as you shook your head at his question.

Charles wanted to ask a lot of questions, but you were still shaken up by the whole thing, so he grabbed you by your hand as both of you settled down on the couch.

"You can leave, Charles. I’m sorry for ruining your night."

"It wasn’t your fault, Y/N. And who said the date was ruined? Adam told me you love pizza, so are you up for a pizza night?" He found himself grinning when he saw that little smile on your beautiful face.

It was supposed to be a romantic dinner date; instead, you were sitting on the couch with a box of pizza while watching a Disney movie. Charles had to pick out the pineapple on every slice of pizza and vocally judged you on your preference because there was no way he could eat a pizza with a pineapple together.

But it was a very fun night. It was enough to make you completely forget what had happened earlier, but enough to not make the day all about that.

"Y/N, can I ask something?" He picked out another pineapple, trying so hard not to make a disgusted face, which made you laugh.

"Is this about what happened?" You confirmed.

"Yeah, but if you don’t feel comfortable answering, then it’s fine." Charles took a bite of his now pineapple-free pizza.

"No, it’s okay. You can ask." You collected the pineapple he picked off and ate it on its own.

"How long?"

"How long has it been since he did that? It was on and off. If he got a new girlfriend, he would stop coming by for a couple of months." You saw the look he had on you, and it made you feel sad at how bad your life has turned out to be.

"You didn’t report to the police?"

"I did, but I never got any further updates. I even tried to move away, but he always managed to find me back. Which is why I’m always happy whenever I have to travel for work. That way, he won’t be able to ruin my life, and Adam could live his life as a child without having to worry about me." You looked away as you started to clean up the empty box as an excuse so you wouldn’t have to look at his face any longer or you would be crying again.

"I’ll see what I can do. It’s about time for the authority to take action about this. I promise I’ll help you."

"Thank you, Charles. I owe you a lot. I really don’t know how to pay you back." You beamed and dipped your hand in the small box.

"You still owe me a proper date?"

"Fine, make it the second date. Do you want candy?" You handed him one as you popped one in your mouth.

"Ah!" Charles blurted it out, making you jump. "How could I miss this?" He took the sour candy and burst out laughing. It was the same candy that he had been getting from Adam way before he found out he was related to you. "Adam had been stealing your sour candies all this time to share them with me."

"Really?" You laughed along, connecting the dots as to why your candy seemed to be way less than it should have been.

"Guess I love sour candies now." He threw one into his mouth and shivered at the sourness.

✧.* general tag list! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @love4lando @shinrjj @ietss @leclerc13 @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @xcinnamongirl @boiohboii @formula1mount @judespoision

If your usernames were crossed, meaning I can’t tag you! Let me know if you would like to be removed or to be added to the tag list! Or if I missed anyone!

[freakingholland]

freakingholland's batboys headcanons part 1

A/N: Hi cuties! After posting some dc comics related imagines over the last couple of years I've decided to finally post a list of my own headcanons for batboys! Just a disclaimer - these are based on multiple dc related media (comics, shows, fan-made content) as well as just my imagination. I do not mean any harm with these! Also if you agree/disagree with these let me know in the comments/asks/rbs because I'm super intrested in what you guys think and your own fanons! Stay whelmed xx questions/ideas here! - rules here my AO3 archive is here If you enjoyed my work: Ko-fi.com/freakingholland masterlist

Dick Grayson (25-29ish yo)

Wears contacts all the time when he’s out. His sight used to be perfect up until puberty. Only wears prescription glasses when he knows he’ll spend the entire day wearing sunglasses – has prescription on them (he does have an emergency pair of regular glasses though).

Has a deep set of dimples. More visible when he’s a dehydrated raisin of a human being. He has a special bottle for just water to force himself to drink more.

Is left handed. His siblings bother him for that matter when he accidentally elbows somebody while eating.

Is “silently” addicted to energy drinks. Has tried to switch to other beverages but ultimately always goes back to energy drinks.

Sings in the shower, has a genuinely good singing voice. Pretends to be shy when people suggest doing karaoke.

Has chronic wrist pain due to a bad fracture.

Is a minimalist. Hates clutter and frequently gets rid of things like clothes, unnecessary gadgets, kitchen utensils etc.

Loves rock climbing and bouldering.

Has pockmarks on his cheeks. Had tried different products to make them fade away, but gave up and accepted his fate.

Uses a lot of post-it notes around his apartment.

Jason Todd (22-24ish yo)

Jason is the only one with brown eyes. You cannot convince me otherwise. Don’t try to.

He’s the best cook out of all the guys. Finds it very therapeutic. Genuinely enjoys making meals especially if others can stop by for dinner or pick up his food. (always makes me think of those pics of him and Dick in the kitchen in Gotham Knights!)

Has type 1 diabetes, uses a pump. (As mentioned here!)

Has a private library stamp for his book collection because any time someone visits him, somebody borrows (steals) books from him.

Plays the violin, self-taught as an adult. It’s his “safe” hobby that convinces his neighbours that he’s just a regular guy.

Has a full arm tattoo sleeve, it’s his way of dealing with body dysmorphia and body image issues. His tattoos include book references, fav movie characters and different symbols for all of the siblings (not their super hero stuff though, for safety reasons).

Has reading glasses. (As mentioned here!)

Hates arugula, loves Italian cuisine. He is not afraid of carbs (his glucose monitor states otherwise) and makes noodles often.

Has wavy hair but doesn’t use proper products for his texture.

Has veryyy straight teeth naturally. Others are jealous.

Tim Drake (20-21ish yo)

Journals. Even when he’s severely sleep deprived. It’s his way of dealing with heavy stuff, but also his archive in case he goes missing.

Has a nintendo switch. Doesn’t really use it but he knows that Damian steals it that’s why he keeps it instead of selling it.

Has a proper skin care routine. It includes dying his hair dark every 4 weeks cause he has gray hairs due to stress.

Uses ktape regularly. Struggles with chronic back pain and uses a foam roller.

Is vegan. Doesn’t try to convince other peeps to switch to veganism knowing that they are barely capable of making food for themselves. Will make an exception and eat meat if it’s a meal prepared by somebody close to him.

Is a huge music fan, listens to music often. Mostly metal, but also pop, rap. Doesn’t really discriminate music genres.

Loves playing board games. Is the type to bring board games to social meetings of sorts in case people want to play.

Has a very pleasant, contagious laugh. Rarely laughs out loud, but those who know his laugh try hard to make him laugh for that matter.

Has really sparse facial hair. Would like to grow out a stache or beard but cannot.

Blushes very easily. Doesn’t like it. Despises cold temperatures for that matter.

[etherealily]

𝙴𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃𝙴𝙴𝙽 // 𝙉𝙁𝙅!

Nate Jacobs + Fem!reader. Warnings : Dark. SFW, but discretion advised. Drugs.

I don't know if this is milder or darker than the previous parts, but I do know that it is LONG.

Part 1 : Whiplash

Part 2 : 9 Lives

Part 3 : Blessed

Part 4 : Shards

Part 6 : Sin

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Desc. : You're fun and you're wild, but you don't know the half of the shit that you put me through

═════════════════════ 🧿 ════════════════════

TUESDAY, LIBRARY, 4 PM.

"We need to talk."

Suddenly, Carl Jung had never been more interesting, your eyes unable to rip away from the words on the paper in front of them, ignoring Nate as much as possible.

Your shoulder suddenly jerked, and a soft whisper followed. "Hey. We need to talk."

Frowning, your eyes darted between the two Jacobs brothers, the looks on their faces not strict, but the most infuriatingly stoic gazes mankind had ever known.

"You had quite a weekend, right? Anything crazy happen?"

The real question Aaron was asking was whether you were going to talk about it.

"Nope, just lots of psych homework."

"See, this is why I'm telling you to drop Psych. Unnecessary stress.", remarked Nate, his fingers rapping on the table in an almost musical pattern. Almost, because music is art, and there was nothing artistic about the false smile he was giving you.

"I'll keep that in mind."

"How are the rest of classes going?" Small talk?

"Great. Chem is pissing me off, though."

"Eh, well, only nerds are good at Chem, and I don't fuck with nerds. So you're lucky."

Oh, thanks, man. Such an honour.

"Are you good at Chem?"

"I pass."

"Where'd you get time to study? What with all the vapes and parties and quote-unquote 'dozens of bitches'?"

He let out a breathy laugh. "I got good work-life balance.", he replied, leaning on his arms closer to you. His head tilted and you knew something psychotic was about to happen. Well, it was Nate. You knew something psychotic was about to happen the second he walked in.

"I'll bet."

He smiled at that. "Are you my friend, Y/N? Are we friends?"

"I don't think so."

"Good. We're on the same page.", he hissed, moving in closer, glaring at you with the same eyes that had been acting as a dam to his true emotions two nights ago. "You can't tell anyone." His fingers deftly twirled your hair around before tucking it behind your ear.

"About?"

"Saturday."

"How you threw a lamp at me?"

"What you heard about my Dad. What he wanted to... what he said. What you learnt about our family."

"I won't."

"No, seriously, Y/N, don't fucking play with me right now. You'll regret it if you do."

"I'm not playing around, either. I'm not going to tell anyone."

"Good.", sniped Aaron. "'Cause we'll fucking ruin your life if you do."

"Aaron.", whispered Nate, shaking his head. "She already said she wouldn't."

"And you trust her?! She walked in with this polite girl attitude and then when shit got tough, she yelled at you with Mom just a room away. And you told me she wanted to fuck Da-"

"Aaron, shut the FUCK up, okay? She said she isn't going to, so she won't." The glares were back on you, an unwelcome blanket in the heat of tension.

"Yeah, we wouldn't want to have to say stuff about you , too."

"Aaron, I said fuckin' drop it."

"No, she gotta know what's at stake, or she's going to take this shit lightly."

You could almost see the vein pop in Nate's head.

"Nate, what... what stuff?"

"It's nothing. Just... we needed incentive.", he muttered, shrugging.

"What incentive?"

"You're buddy-buddy with a drug dealer, Y/N.", he continued, although, to his credit, it seemed with a little reluctance. "And he has access to a lot of shit, right? Who knows if he's ever slipped something into your drink and... y'know."

"What the FUCK? What the FUCK, NATE?"

His idea of incentive was making you a rape victim?!

Being shushed by the librarian solidified your thirst for homicide.

"I mean, you fucked Shane voluntarily, so you're already a fuckin' whore.", he declared, shrugging again as if he was just stating that the sky would be lit up by fireworks on the Fourth of July. "Maybe he just thought it would be easier, without all the playing-hard-to-get-shit. You're close enough that he trusts you to watch over his store."

"You can't FUCKING be serious! FEZCO WOULD NEVER FUCKING-"

"How sad, you're in denial.", tutted Aaron, pouting. "How would you know? He could have used shit stronger than Rohypnol, ya know? Shit that could knock you out cold for hours, and maybe he even called a couple of his trapper buddies-"

Aaron shut up quite quickly when your knuckles met his jaw, but started cussing you out when Nate pulled you off of him. "We're just saying, Y/N, you don't tell anyone the truth of that night, we won't tell them the lies about Fezco."

You pointed your finger at Nate's chest, hoping to god that that would distract him from the rage-induced tears pooling in your eyes.

"You're a fucking coward, Jacobs. With a pervert dad. A fucking coward who can't admit that he has no idea what the fuck he's doing."

"Big words coming from a girl that was raped by her dealer."

OH, someone needs to euthanize this motherfucker.

FUCK. NATE. JACOBS.

TUESDAY, 9PM

Nate had no fucking clue why he was doing this.

He was just drunk, he supposed. Drunk and horny. Average teenage experience.

But it's like.. he could've done anything. ANYTHING else. He could've actually gone to the party, picked up some girl, screwed her into the bed.

But no.

He sat there, scrolling through the fucking SlutPages. For who?Shane's sister, maybe, because of the inexplicable hatred he'd been feeling for him for about a month that he couldn't really think of a reason for? You would think, wouldn't you?

He looked for you.

There was no way you were a virgin. But he should've known there was also no way you were a slut. Or at least, that you were smart enough not to end up there.

He almost fucking threw the phone onto the wall. Fuck.

And you'd blocked him. That was the problem. He couldn't even text you. And he didn't have your fucking phone number, Jesus fucking Christ, he should've gotten it! Relying on something as flimsy as social fucking media was stupid. Idiot.

Wait. Social media.

He quickly slid his chair over to his computer, his hands moving with a pace and mind of their own.

No fucking way would he admit this, but his brother... had some good ideas, once in a while.

When he was fourteen, he'd been wide-eyed, watching through the crack through a door as his older brother -17 at the time- created an account, some random username, some girly bullshit, and then gone Incognito, finding a picture to add.

And then he watched as his brother spent hours poring through pictures of girls - at the time, Nate's seniors- and then suddenly sigh.

"You know, you breathe like fucking Darth Vader?" "What's that?", he'd asked, ignoring that comment and padding over to sit next to him. "This account? I'll tell you, but it- it's like... private brother shit, ok?"

"Shit". What a novel word that was at the time.

"Okay." "Spit-swear it, runt."

He spit-swore. A thing he never fucking did again.

"You can use it. Whenever you're down bad for a chick but you're blocked." "Why would a chick I'm down bad for block me?" "You're so obviously fourteen."

And god fucking damnit, was he.

Not that he was down bad for you. But all he'd say is if this wasn't love, it was pretty fucking close. Why you enthralled him, no clue. You were so easy to rile up, but hard to push too far. You always seemed to be limitless.

He logged in.

Good, the loser, Crestin, posted a story.

Good, you were there in the background.

Great, you were hot.

Bad, you were drinking. Tequila. Wasn't that you and Nate's thing?

Of course, he wouldn't presume to have taken your tequila-V-Card, but he most definitely would have assumed that you'd associate tequila with him. With that night. He'd assumed you'd stay away from it, metaphorically forsaking him in the process.

But no.

Shane's tequila was non-traumatic, and apparently delicious. Ugh.

This simply would not do.

TUESDAY, SHANE'S PARTY, 11PM

"No, NO, GET the FUCK away from me!", you warned, pointing a finger at him. You should've taken his advice and learnt to shoot. "I'm warning you, Jacobs!"

Shane's party was meant to be the one place you could be to avoid Nate, seeing as the host was some sort of Nate-repellent, but NO, you'd just apparently underestimated Nate Jacobs once again.

And here he was, his hand gripping your wrist - just like the rope you wanted to grip his neck - and glaring down at you as if you'd just killed his entire family but he was mildly turned on by it.

"Y/N, just fucking listen! Just- stop causing a scene! Fuckin' LISTEN!", he ordered, grabbing your shoulder with one palm and pointing at you with the other hand, to stop you from writhing away from him.

"You can't just do what you did last week and then expec-"

He kissed you. What did he think this was, fucking Disney Channel?

"NO! NO!", you shouted, shoving him away and secretly hoping for a car to hit him as he stumbled back.

No such luck.

It really was the world according to Nate, wasn't it?

"You know it's okay, right? It's alright."

"What?"

"It's okay to want me.", he informed you, as if he was telling you it was okay to sing in the shower.

Everyone does it. It's like, a thing, relax.

"It's okay.", he continued, "People want what's bad for them all the time.", he murmured, his thumb tracing your lip like he was tracing out a line he wanted so desperately to cross. "It's human nature."

"You think I'm bad for you?"

He took a deep breath, as if he was about to tell you you were terminal. "I think you're good for my soul. Like a baptism without the water." His thumb moved further into your mouth, just barely grazing your teeth.

"Even you have no clue what that meant, admit it."

"It's called effect, Y/N. Drama. Intrigue. Doesn't have to make sense."

You stared up at him, waiting for elaboration, and that earned a huff from him as he looked around at the other people in the front yard - doing lines, making out, throwing up - before turning back to you. "No, honey, I don't think you're bad for me. In fact, I think you're unnecessarily good for me."

"Unnecessarily?"

"As in, I don't need your energy."

"Then why are you so insistent on being around it? 'Cause you want to fuck me?"

"No! Jesus. It's in the name, Y/N. GOOD luck charm. You help me do GOOD in my games. You're good energy."

"What's next? You gonna tell me my birthstone?"

"Oh, shut up.", he chuckled, shaking his head as he moved your jaw from side-to-side in what seemed to be a playful gesture, but at this point, could very well have been him trying to ascertain which cheek to shoot into or something. "You got your licks in. We good?"

"Good? No. NO. We're not good! You threatened someone I love, so no fuckin' way are we good!"

"I know, I know. Aaron wanted me to-"

"BULLSHIT!"

He sighed, as if you were his deranged relative who was climbing up some telephone pole.

"YOU just can't handle the fact that I saw you almost fucking cry! I caught you weak, and that's a power shift, and you don't FUCKING like it, do you?!"

His jaw ticked for a moment, but he managed to let out a mix between a scoff and a chuckle. And then, as if what you said wasn't quite literally exactly what he was feeling, he asked, "Are you done?"

"NO, I'm not fucking done! I still haven't got to the part where you threatened to accuse him of rape, which is a fucking terrible thing to joke about in the first pla-"

"Look, man, I don't have time for this shit, okay? I'm not hurting Fezco! I came here so I could tell you something."

"My GOD, Nate, you made your point! I won't tell anyone!", you groaned, snatching a drink from some already-tipsy guy's hand and downing it.

"That's totally hygienic.", he remarked, eyes finally tearing away from you as you both watched the drunkard stumble over a girl who was getting rid of her lunch and breakfast in the bushes.

"I got new incentive.", he murmured, his forehead against yours, and his thumb rubbing your cheek as if it owned land there.

"What, now you're going make Shane out to be a rapist, too?"

Not a bad idea, actually. The corners of his mouth curled down, and he scanned your face as if he were actually thinking about it, eliciting a tsk from you.

He hid a chortle as he continued. "I'm offering you a deal. You were right, back at the bleachers about the control thing."

He was about to ask you to sell your soul, you could fucking feel it.

"So... you get to control me. For however long you need. Like, a month, a week, whatever. Just don't tell anyone about my family."

Whoa. Plot twist. You did not expect him to sell his soul.

"Oh, yeah, I'm sure. So if I asked you to show up to school naked?"

"Yes, I'd show up to school naked for you. But it's funny seeing me naked is your first instinct."

His trust issues were suddenly working out in your favour- he was essentially offering himself up as collateral.

"If I ask you to announce a formal apology to me on a bullhorn before your game?"

"I just want you to leave my family alone, Y/N."

So that's where Nate Jacobs' humanity began. At his family. Noted.

"I promise. I'll do anything." The urge to say 'then die' was strong, but not invincible.

You wracked your brain looking for something you could make this psychopath do that would not cause him immense pleasure.

"Ah, see? Being the one in control isn't all it's cracked up to be. Too much power, and you don't even know what to do with it.", he taunted, pouting as he closed his eyes, pressing his forehead harder against yours. "Think. What is it you want from me?"

What the fuck did you want him to do?

"Do you want an apology? No, 'cause I've already given you plenty and you don't want meaningless things, do you?" His lips lightly touched yours and you could swear he smirked when you flinched on reflex.

But no. That wasn't what you wanted. He was spot-on.

"You want... do you want money? I'm a trust fund baby, essentially, right? My father basically owns the town. Sure, I could hook you up. Royal Enfield, BMW. Or, if you want, Chanel? But that won't cost me anything, at least not emotionally, yeah? So no. That's not it, either."

Why did you suddenly feel like your thoughts were transferring into his head?

"You want me? You want to cut me up, just like I forced you to watch me do to myself? You want to hold a gun to my throat like I did to you? No, because I'd low-key like it."

Yes, he would. So no, you didn't want it.

"C'mon, think. I'm at your mercy, I'm all yours. There's definitely one thing you want and you're just too much of a pussy to say it."

Why were you letting him do this? Why did you just accept that it was the world according to Nate?

"You wanna know what I think, huh? Huh? I'll tell you what I think.", he murmured. "I think you want me to care."

That got your attention. "Care?"

"I think you actually want me to give a shit about you, so you can justify to yourself why you keep lettin' this happen, don'tcha?", he asked, thumb rubbing your jawline. "You want me to stop acting like this whole thing between us is a game. You want me to acknowledge what I'm doing to you."

You hated this. You hated when men were right - it was ridiculous. And you absolutely despised when Nate was right, because it was dangerous.

"Look, I just want you out of my life, Nate.", you lied.

That had come out way too fast. That was the easiest thing he could do. That was the kindest thing you could have ordered him to do. That was mercy.

So why was he acting like you'd just asked him to jump into a fire?

"That's it?"

He didn't buy it. And neither did you. Because yes, you'd technically be very reasonable to want him out of your life. But no, the danger, the unnecessarily sexy amount of mortal peril you'd be in every second that you were around him- it was your fucked up version of heroin.

"I don't think you understand just what you're asking. You're going to miss me."

You scoffed and he shrugged, in a gesture that only seemed pitiful, as though he were allowing you to believe that for the time being.

'Denial isn't just a river in Egypt, baby', you could almost hear him snark.

"What if I miss you?"

You shrugged, downing another shot - one you'd stolen from a drunk girl this time. "I dunno. Just don't."

"You'll still come to games? Fist-bump me?"

"Still come to games? I guess, maybe? I'll high-five you, or something."

"I'll think it over." Wait, wasn't he the one who was making an offer?

═════════════════════ 🧿 ════════════════════

He found you almost fifteen minutes later, probably after mulling it over with a drink.

"I accept your terms. I'll go out of your life, starting Monday. However, I've got a little som'n som'n to show you.".

An AK-47? An atom-bomb? A grave he dug specially for you?

"It's a surprise. Only an hour. That's all I'm asking."

Only your sanity. That's all he was asking.

You'd promised yourself you'd never take anything from Nate Jacobs again, and you'd stuck to it.

I mean.

That was until he'd offered you molly.

Molly made you happy.

Molly made you forget stuff, like college apps, the loss of your internship and the fact that you'd basically been lying to your family the entirety of last week about the scar on your forehead.

But how he'd found that out was a question for the ages. And he seemed to know exactly what molly did to you.

And you best believe he was milking it.

"I want to get a tattoo."

"Okay...?"

"Correction : I want us to get a tattoo.", he whispered, before tsk-ing at your derisive snort. "C'mon, you get to draw whatever you want on me and I'll get it tattooed, I promise!"

"Tattoos are permanent, Nate."

"And you know what? So am I. In your life. In your head. On your lips.", he reminded, grinning mischievously, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth.

You barely fought against him - the ecstasy sprinting through your blood vessels - and you found yourself lying back on the grass, his hands bracketing your hair.

"Just fucking draw something on me, Y/N. Come on. And I'll draw something on you. Yeah? Sound good?", he asked, his hand creeping up your shirt with surprising reverence.

He chuckled breathily against your lips, shaking his head as he rolled off you, lying next to you.

"I'll draw something nice and meaningful. And you get to, as well. Nothing cheesy, though. Like a fucking arrow-heart or an anchor or some shit."

"How about a star?"

"What, a star is not cheesy? That's the cheesiest thing ever. That's the pussy tattoo.", he muttered, before looking up at your eyes, sighing magnanimously. "What kind of star?"

"The ones that are hard to draw. With all the lines."

"Really, Y/N? I give you the chance to mark my body up and you want the hardest thing to draw from second grade?"

"Where'd you want it?"

"Where will you be willing to touch me?"

That was a million dollar question. Willing is a very subjective term.

"Neck. Under my ear."

You nodded, taking the pen he'd brought and gently tracing out a couple stars under his neck. He played with some of your hair that had fallen in front of his face, with terrifying dedication, as you did so. "Yeah. Done. You actually getting this tattooed?"

"Now you.", he ordered, grabbing your wrist, not answering the question. Red flag number eleven thousand. The pen lid in his mouth and a focused furrow to his brow, he began drawing.

"Infinity symbol.", he informed you, before you could even ask.

"Why?"

"I dunno. It's meaningful. 'To infinity and beyond'. Favourite Disney Movie, right?"

"That is not my favourite-"

"Yeah, well, it's mine. Buzz Lightyear is like, my hero.", he muttered, rubbing his thumb over the drawing and then kissing it softly, all while looking at you.

"Really? You seem like a Big Hero 6 guy to me."

He laughed deeper. "You always take me so seriously."

"Fuuuck, I know I'm not supposed to say this..."

He lolled his head over to you. "You could tell me you're Ted Bundy reincarnate and I'd still smash."

You decided to ignore that comment. "I'm not supposed to say this, but... but I get why Rue did it. Like Jesus fucking Christ."

He nodded in understanding, looking at the tiny packet that still had a couple pills in it. "She was just too weak to limit herself. But we got no limits. You got infinity on your wrist."

"Look, Nate, I can't tattoo that shit. My family would kill themselves."

"Same."

"Then why did you-"

"We're gonna do something that could go either way. It could either freak you out or turn you on. On the off chance that it's both, then we're more similar than you realize.", he slurred, lazily brushing hair behind your ear. "'Kay?"

"What are we gonna do?", you asked, trying your hardest to pull away, but the ecstasy made you genuinely defenceless against human touch. And it didn't help that Nate was holding your arms tightly down on the ground, as if he were trying to plant roots.

"We're going to carve the tattoos."

He said it so conspiratorially. As though this was your secret to surviving the zombie apocalypse. And his fucking eyes. Glowing like fireworks. Glowing like a child finally being told he could get what he wanted for Christmas.

"WHAT?!"

He licked his lips with an almost roll of his eyes as he looked up at you, because you were so clearly overreacting, right? Slitting your own skin in the shape of an infinity on it was a perfectly normal teenage activity. Of course. Drinking, smoking, fucking, slicing.

"I'll do it. I'm experienced, as you know.", he scoffed, his lips at your shoulder now. "We only have about fifteen minutes left of your curfew, Y/N, please. Please? Play nice."

The molly was clouding your senses, clearly. You could tell because a) you were still having this conversation and b) you didn't even question how he knew what time your curfew was, and c) you hadn't punched him yet.

"Think about it, it's less permanent than a tattoo, baby, please."

And then he placed another one of those little pink pills on your tongue, pressing down and forcing you to swallow.

MONDAY.

The scream came too late to your liking.

You'd tried to scream faster, but everything had come rushing back to you. The fever dream was not a dream. It's always relieving when terrible 'realities' end up only being dreams. It's a different kind of terror when you realize that the nightmare was real.

The number eighteen was etched on your wrist like a pathetic mark, like... like a brand.

You couldn't even begin to figure out just what the fuck that was supposed to be. Eighteen? How was that meaningful? The year it becomes legal to have sex? Freedom, maybe? Joy?

He wanted this aneurysm in your head. He'd placed it there.

FUCK !

FRIDAY.

"What? What is it you want?!"

He frowned, his face softening out of genuine confusion, making him look almost comically harmless in the harsh stadium lighting. "You said you'd still fist-bump me."

"What does 18 mean?"

He shrugged, holding out his fist. You rolled your eyes, bumping it with your own. And then, after telling yourself you were imagining the ghost of a smirk on his lips, you froze. Because he'd turned, running off to the middle of the field. You saw his back.

His jersey. 18. FUCK. He blew you a kiss about two seconds before the ball was passed to him. 18. FUCK.

"Did you just fist-bump Nate?"

"Yeah."

"Why?", asked Maddy, scoffing softly.

"He was talking to me about the project and then he said he had to go, so I wished him luck and... I guess I fist-bumped him."

"Oh, yeah, ew, the project. How's that going?"

"I scrapped it."

"Why?", she questioned, after shaking her pom-poms and screaming out some over-enthusiastic cheer.

"I don't fucking like him. At all. He's a DICK."

"What? No way. I had no idea.", she muttered sardonically, slinging an arm around your shoulder. "But was it, like, really bad?"

You nodded.

"After the game, you wanna do molly?"

"No." The reply was almost immediate.

"You don't wanna do molly? Don't bullshit me. Shut up. You're doing it with me."

You'd have hugged Maddy for knowing you so well if you weren't so focused on the big, blue, number 18 running on the field, matching the big, red one staying still on your wrist.

FRIDAY, 9PM

Staying over at Maddy's was an offer you shouldn't have declined, because it was getting genuinely infuriating how Nate found out things.

You were still extremely lacking in sobriety when he'd crawled into your bed that night, covering your mouth to make sure you didn't scream. How? Million dollar question.

"You want me to tell you a secret?"

"A secret? Wait, not some bullshit about my lips that you came up with?"

"I listened to Queen."

You sat up. "WHAT?"

He chuckled, sitting up as well and tilting his head while resting it on his knees. "What? Elvis, too. I even watched Blue Hawaii. I low-key liked it. Why? Would it have changed your mind?"

You frowned for a moment, before shaking your head. "Still would've been nice to know."

"Okay, how about you just kiss me now, Rue 2.0?", he asked, tracing out the number eighteen on your wrist before looking up at you through slightly furrowed brows. That was a challenge, of sorts, that gaze.

"You have something to ask me." Didn't take a genius to figure it out. Insinuation was painted all over his face. He had an accusation and he needed you to defend it.

"When Shane fucked you, where'd he come?"

You frowned, staring at him for a moment. "Yo, I- what? Where is this coming from?"

"At practice he was saying he fucked you."

"He's a dickwad, of course he did."

"It doesn't bother you that he's spreading that shit?"

"If I paid attention to every rumour some butthurt, fragile-ego jock spread about me, I wouldn't have time to fucking study."

"Your reputation's gone, though. That's fine for you?"

You sucked on your teeth for a moment before exhaling. "You're here to find out if I'm easy?"

He looked at you for a moment, his expression unreadable.

"If I did this, Y/N, would you stop me?", he asked, shifting to his knees at the foot of the bed. "Hm? If I just...", he trailed off, kissing up your knee to your thigh.

"Nate. Stop."

"That's not stopping me.", he murmured, gripping your back and yanking you closer.

You kicked him away, grimacing. "Get out."

He gazed up at you, and for a moment there, it seemed like he was rooting for you, for the rumours to just be cruel rumours and not true.

"Get OUT!"

"You can't let me kiss you and then just... it doesn't work like that."

The world looked glittery and he looked godly kneeling down there.

His tongue licked slowly up your inner thigh. "C'mon. Take it off. It's just me."

"Get out."

He rolled his eyes, yanking your shorts down himself. "I fucking...", he murmured, voice muffled against your skin. "Love you."

"You don't fucking love me!" You were struggling but it was fruitless.

"I could."

"Get out, I'm not bullshitting."

"C'mon.", he murmured, reaching up to unhook your bra before pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. "C'mon."

"No! Get off!" His hand held you down.

"Just let me-", he muttered, his fingers finally removing your underwear as he pressed a chaste kiss higher up your thigh. Your breath hitched and his smirk widened, albeit, with a bit of disappointment. "There we go."

Kicking him away, you finally snapped. Maybe it was the molly. Maybe it was his tongue. Maybe it was the fact that he'd somehow found out that molly made you make extremely bad decisions. Maybe it was the fact that he knew you wanted nothing more than to fuck him that night.

"GET THE FUCK OUT, NATE! YOU SAID YOU'D LEAVE ME ALONE MONDAY, IT'S FRIDAY! GET THE FUCK OUT, PLEASE!" He took every kick and every punch like a total champ, you'd give him that.

The disappointment left, and he smiled, softly, caringly, like a mother hanging up her child's drawing on the fridge, as he wiped your tears away.

Standing up, he grabbed your hair, staring into your eyes so deeply you were half-wondering if they'd changed colour, before patting your shoulder. "I'm proud of you."

Proud for disproving a rumour?

You watched his shadow on your wall as it climbed down the window behind you.

Look, one thing could be said. Nate Jacobs was a man of his word. He did not speak to you. He did not text you. He did not acknowledge you.

You'd blocked him online and he'd blocked you in real life.

However, his other account still kept tabs on you.

Average social media interaction.

Shane Crestin ended up in the ER later that night.

Average Nate Jacobs interaction.

[emotionalsupport-ljh]

Breaking and Entering

You don't want Jihoon to worry.

Fluff (a miniscule amount of angst) - woozi x fem!reader

A hell of a lot of words for a sick fic :D Described as "princess treatment" by my friends 😌

AO3 link

Word Count: 3.1k

////////////////////////////////////

Before you even open your eyes, you feel a scratch in your throat that burns like hell. You reach for the water on your nightstand and take large gulps trying to soothe the pain. As your eyes open, they droop heavily and take a moment to adjust to the early morning sunlight that makes its way past your curtains. A chill suddenly attacks the uncovered parts of your body. You duck back under your comforter only to have an oppressive heat come in waves that cause sweat to cling to your forehead. On top of all that, you can’t breathe out of your left nostril. You’re terribly sick.

As you lament in your miserable state, a notification brightens your phone and you have to shut your eyes. You blink them trying to get used to the light, but all it does is give you a headache. You brave through the pain to turn your brightness down and check the notification. It’s a text from your boyfriend, Jihoon.

Jiji: good morning babe~ 😘

You: Good morning!

Jiji: what are ur plans for today? work?

You: No

You pause for a moment before continuing your response. You wonder if it’s a good idea to tell him that you aren’t feeling well today. On one hand, he might want to know that kind of stuff so that he can take care of you. On the other hand, it could cause some unnecessary stress in his already stressful life. Also, with his busy schedule, he probably wouldn’t be able to do much. You decide ultimately that this illness would probably be over quickly, and you don’t want to make Jihoon worry about nothing a little cough medicine and tea would fix.

You: I'm going to take the day off to relax and be lazy lol 😏

Jiji: that sounds nice

i wish i could do the same 😮‍💨

You: Busy schedule today?

Jiji: yup 🙃 but im excited for our date later this week

You: Me too!

Jiji: i have to go to work

text me later

You: Will do! I love you 🩷

Jiji: love u too~🖤

Putting your phone down and taking the chance to move from your bed to at least retrieve some relief in the form of medicine or warm tea, you feel your muscles ache in a way that makes you never want to move again. For now, you stare at the ceiling with the resolve to get over this silly little cold. You fall asleep soon after and stay asleep for many, many hours.

When you finally awaken again, the chill in your bones still hasn't subsided, no matter how many layers of sheet and blanket cover you. You have to force your eyes to open against the deeper sunlight now pouring through the cracks in your curtains. You power through the discomfort to get them to adjust to the brightness. Again, you reach a hand out for your phone and see that it is afternoon and that you have some missed texts from your boyfriend.

Jiji: hey~

wuts up

Jiji: taking an afternoon nap huh

text me when u see this

The messages were all sent about 45 minutes ago. You feel a little bad about lying, but it only strengthens your resolve to get better and put the whole lie behind you. You text back like normal, hoping that he has the time to read and respond even for just a few minutes.

You: Sorry! I fell asleep watching anime

It doesn’t take too long for a reply to pop-up. You had been dating Jihoon for months now, but you still got butterflies every time he texted you. Even now, aching all over and dripping from your face, he makes you feel a warmth you swore would make you even healthier than you were before.

Jiji: oh rub it in my face 🙄 lol

dont get too far without me

You: I would never!! 😫

How’s it been today? You're not too stressed, right?

Jiji: eh

im coping lol

nothing im not used to

You: Don’t push yourself too hard ok? 🥺

You're doing such a great job!!!!!!

Jiji: thx lol

i gotta go. love u~ 🖤

You: I love you too 🩷

You decide to try to come up with the ultimate healing game plan for the rest of the day. You plot out your meals and activities to maximize the time you can spend getting better. Or at least you try to as you come to realize that sleeping an extra 4 and a half hours without getting out of bed means that you’ve yet to relieve yourself. This kickstarts your game plan as you rush to the bathroom.

You power through the aches in your body to finally brush your teeth and put your hair in a manageable bun for the day. You put on your sweats and some socks to keep warm and make your way to the kitchen where you heat up some soup and make a mug of herbal tea. You take medicine and take it easy all day. The change in scenery from your bedroom to the living room not only motivates your mind to change, but also it motivates your body to move. You swear you already feel better.

Unfortunately, the next two days look the same, and you do not, in fact, feel any better. Even with minimal movement throughout the days, you still manage to leave a mess of dirty dishes, clothes, and tissues strewn about the apartment. You are miserable and finally starting to come to terms with it. The delusion of your ability to heal quickly and on your own was finally starting to dissipate. You thought seeing a doctor was a waste of time, but you start to see the necessity of an appointment the more time you spend with a scratch in your throat and a headache hammering your skull.

The worst part, however, is not the pain, nor is it the constant sweating or the need to breathe through your mouth. No, the worst part is that today is Jihoon’s one day off; you are supposed to be ready to go on a date.

It's a little late in the morning when you wake up. You thrash in your bed frustrated that you are still sick and very tired. When you check your phone, there are no new messages. It isn't unusual for Jihoon to sleep in on his days off. You dread having to tell him the truth that you had been sick all week and couldn’t go out tonight. You could anticipate his response: a string of crying emojis and then a laugh where he says he’s just kidding and he’s fine as long as you get better. He wouldn’t really be okay with it, but he would say he is. He would be really disappointed; he isn’t very good at showing his true emotions, but you know he feels them so deeply. You don’t want to cause him any undue stress or heartbreak. At this point, it unfortunately is inevitable.

You grab your phone and hover over Jihoon’s contact, trying to muster the courage to send your good-morning-text and your confession followed by a long apology and promises to make it all up to him one day. You don’t expect your phone to ring, brandishing a very familiar sweet smiling selfie with the name “Jiji” underneath. You are startled then you take a deep breath, clear your throat, and answer.

“Good morning, my baby,” a sleep-rasped voice calls out from the other side.

“Good morning,” you try to answer in a normal voice, doing your best to hide your congestion.

“You sound different. What’s up?” Jihoon caught on immediately.

You whine a little over the phone, only prolonging the inevitable. There’s only silence from the other side. “I’m sick,” you say, then blurt out, “I’ve been sick for the past three days. I really, really tried to get better, honestly. I’m so sorry, Jiji. I can’t go out tonight.”

Your heart beats quickly in your chest, maybe from the nerves of finally coming clean, maybe from the extra exertion on your sick body. The five seconds it takes for Jihoon to respond feel like five hours. All he says is, “Oh. Okay.” After that, he hangs up the phone, leaving you stunned and with a horrible pit in your stomach.

You’re in shock. The kind of shock people feel after breaking a limb or recovering from a disaster. It pushes every other feeling out of your body. You do your morning routine in a fugue state. When you sit back in your bed, it all hits you at once. Tears stream down your face almost unconsciously, and you lay down with your face in your pillow. Eventually, you fall asleep again, too tired from the illness to continue to cry or feel anything.

Jihoon makes up his mind quickly. After abruptly hanging up the phone, he immediately gets up and goes through his own routine faster than ever, even taking 30 minutes off of his normal workout just to have more time for his own plan. After coming home, he does something a little out of character. He goes to the kitchen to cook something that isn’t chicken breast and white rice.

This surprises his roommates. Soonyoung tries to help him with the big pot of what was so far just stock and vegetables. He gets distracted easily, and it takes him a long time to cut up an onion. Jeonghan takes a picture of Jihoon and sends it in the group chat asking if this is normal behavior for Woozis. Seungkwan tries to taste it before the dish is ready and whines when his hand is met with a smack from a wooden spoon.

“This isn’t for any of you. Leave it alone,” Jihoon says in a stern voice.

“Wait, what? Then who is it for?” Soonyoung raises an eyebrow at him.

“Y/N, my girlfriend. She’s sick.”

The mood in the apartment changes. Now, Jeonghan is texting more furiously in the group chat about how Jihoon cares so much about his poor, sick girlfriend. Seungkwan now insists on tasting the dish the whole way through the cooking process to make sure it’s suitable for such refined tastes as his and yours. Soonyoung calls his mom and asks what the best thing is to cure illnesses. It becomes a whole big thing that has Jihoon a little bit annoyed but also grateful his friends care about you almost as much as he cares about you.

Jihoon’s morning and the better part of his afternoon off of work are then filled with surprise visits from Mingyu, Jun, and Seokmin who bring an array of dishes that could feed you for a month and Minghao who brings a special tea blend that he uses when he's feeling sick. Vernon sends a playlist of chill music for you to listen to while you recover, and Wonwoo writes a list of movies he recommends you watch to rest. Chan makes a special delivery of his grandma's famous kimchi, which has the rest of the boys groaning that they don't get any this time. Joshua sends the best essential oil wax melts so you can indulge in some aromatherapy. Finally, Seungcheol makes sure that Jihoon tells you that he can send anything in the world to your house using his card whether it be medicine or a treat from your favorite bakery or even a new designer pajama set to make sure you are at maximum comfort levels.

As he makes his way over to your apartment, Jihoon feels silly carrying a bunch of bags filled with various gifts from everyone on top of the soup he made that seems to pale in comparison. He curses Jeonghan under his breath for telling everyone his plan to bring you supplies, effectively making him the delivery boy because he is the only person who has the passcode to your apartment. He tries to call you on his way over, now adding his phone to the pile he was juggling. It rings a few times and then goes to voicemail. He tries again and meets the same outcome. He assumes that you’re resting; being sick for multiple days sounds exhausting which is why he is so willing to bring over everything he (and the others) could possibly think of to make you feel better.

Jihoon reaches your front door and knocks loud enough that you would be able to hear it from your room, but soft enough that you wouldn’t wake up if you were resting. He waits a beat before just typing the code and letting himself inside. He makes his way to the kitchen and sets down the various bags on the countertops. Only once his arms are empty does he realize the state of the apartment. He slowly takes in the dirty dishes and various random stuff left on the floor. The trashcan is full, and tea bags litter the countertops. There are tissue boxes everywhere, each one full of used tissues.

He walks slowly to your room and, opening the door, he almost couldn’t make out your sleeping shape on the bed. You’re curled up into a ball under many layers of blankets on one side, and on the other was a pile of clothing. There’s more clothing on the floor. Jihoon goes back to the kitchen and takes a deep breath. He meticulously puts all the food everyone prepared into the fridge, rolls up his sleeves, and decides to start there. He makes a list in his head of all the things he could realistically do in the few hours you would be asleep.

The next moment, Jihoon is elbow deep in soapy water scrubbing dishes and wiping countertops. He finds all the cleaning instruments and proceeds to sweep and vacuum. He fills a trash bag with tissues, tissue boxes, and food containers. He gently tiptoes around your room, gathering up the clothes from the floor, which he assumes are dirty, and putting them in the wash. The clothes on the bed, which he checks are clean, are now folded and put in a hamper for later sorting. He even has time to reheat his soup and make a pretty plating of it paired with some rice and a cup of some of Minghao’s herbal tea.

You awaken when you hear dishes clanking in the kitchen. Someone is in your home. You freeze until the noise stops and begin to get up from your bed. With your legs swung over the side of the bed, ready to stand and possibly defend yourself, the door opens slowly and in walks Jihoon with a tray of dishes.

He looks surprised, then flashes a big smile, then says, “Good, you’re awake. It’s time to eat.”

All you can do is stare at him in disbelief as he sets a tray of soup and rice and tea on your lap. He sits cross-legged in the empty space beside you and scrolls through his phone as if it's the most normal thing in the world.

“W…what’s all this?” you stutter out, utterly confused.

“Lunch,” Jihoon answers nonchalantly.

Looking at him beside you, you realize that there is indeed empty space on your bed for him to sit where there was once a pile of clothes. Tears appear behind your eyes when you look around at the spotless floor of your bedroom. You look at your boyfriend as one tear falls.

“Did you…”

“Yeah, it was a real mess in here.” He turns to look at you and uses his thumb to wipe the one tear from your cheek. “Start eating. I bet you haven’t eaten all day. How are you supposed to get better if you don’t eat?”

He was right. You take a spoonful of broth and bring it to your lips. It tastes wonderful. Alternating between tea and soup and rice, you feel fuller, and the heat from the meal eases your throat just a little more. Jihoon looks at you and sees how happy you look to be having a meal that wasn’t microwaved from a package. You are already almost done with the meal after only a few minutes.

“See, you were hungry, huh?” He teasingly shakes his head.

You lightly push your boyfriend's arm. You make a face, suddenly feeling awkward to be around him. “I thought you were mad at me.”

“What? Why? Because you lied to me for days and didn’t let me take care of you? Or because you canceled our date on the day of because you assumed I cared that we went out somewhere?” he starts sarcastically, “I actually hadn’t thought about it all day.”

“I’m serious, Jiji!” you try to whine but end in a cough. He’s laughing at you as you get a little frustrated.

“I’m seriously not mad. I wish you would’ve told me, but being mad won’t fix anything.” His smile is soft, and he’s looking at you with love in his eyes.

“I’m really sorry. I just didn’t want to worry you. I didn’t know it would last this long. Honestly, I don’t know what I have, and you probably shouldn't be sitting so close to me right now.” You weakly try to push Jihoon away, but he sits like a rock, not budging at all.

“I’m fine,” he chuckles, “The plague couldn’t even keep me away from you.” He leans to kiss your forehead.

All your muscles relax as the last few bites on your plate disappear. Jihoon takes the empty tray in one hand and uses the other to guide you to your feet with him. He wordlessly walks you both out of the room. You see that not only is the entire apartment clean, but there are small gifts left out on the coffee table.

“What is all this?” you ask your boyfriend as take a seat on the couch, waiting for him to put the empty plates and bowls from the tray in the sink.

He takes a seat next to you and rubs the back of his neck with one hand and avoids eye contact when he answers, “The guys heard you weren’t feeling great, so, of course, they had to help out, too.” He goes through and shows you the wax melts, medicine, and self-care products. He also tells you about your new stock of homemade meals from the best cooks in the group. You get really excited about the kimchi from Chan’s grandma. He sends you Vernon’s playlist and Wonwoo’s recommendations. He even shows you the text Seungcheol sent him about using his card for whatever you might need.

Everything is perfect for the rest of the evening that was supposed to be a fancy, romantic date night. It turns out that watching movies and listening to music while snuggling and talking is the best medicine for illness and the most romantic date you have ever been on.

[rorysbrainrot]

Headcanons for Mattheo Riddle

• Mattheo would have alright grades, not good nor bad, but when he really starts to enjoy a class that he actually goes to, he’ll automatically become one of the best students.

• Physical touch is absolutely his love language due to not getting it as a kid, he also does a lot of gift giving.

• Heavy smoker, often stressed because of his father always putting pressure on him.

• He doesn’t like Harry Potter, just cause the way he grew up around deatheaters, but not like mortal enemies with him or anything, just bullying when he feels like it.

• He rarely gets crushes, but when he does he will very quickly act on it.

• Slytherin Beater.

• I think that he would always try his best to please his mother. (Bellatrix) y’know?

• He usually crushes on Hufflepuffs, since he thinks they’re cute.

• Buys random unnecessary shit, just for fun.

• Actually does get into a lot of fights, if he sees you look at his friends, him or partner wrong he’ll fight you.

• Loves dogs sm.

• Wears converse religiously.

• Doesn’t talk about his family much.

• He had to get the dark mark when he was quite young. Like around 11 or 12 to prove his loyalty to his dad.

• Favorite dessert is ice-cream, chooses it over everything.

• Sucker for American accents. (Any region.)

——————x——————x——————x——————x——————x

Mattheo Riddle as a boyfriend

• Calls his partner love, princess/prince. When he gets whiny or needy he’ll let the occasional babe or honey slip out.

• After dating for a month or two or whenever he gets attached he’ll randomly show up to your dorm with a bunch of his clothes, sweatshirts, t-shirts etc’.

• Gets needy when he’s away from you to long. (Literally just like an hour.)

•Horny 24/7. I mean he’s a teenage boy.

• Once he gets attached will wait a little bit to be reasonable, but will mentally confess his love for you.

• Won’t let anyone talk bad about you.

• Runs warm, so if you ever try to get away from him while cuddling he will whine/complain about it for the next day.

• Will buy you anything you want.

• Needs to know where you are 24/7.

• If you join any not required classes, he’ll join them as well just to have more time with you.

• The sweetest boy. (When he wants to be, he’s also incredibly sassy.)

——————x——————x——————x——————x——————x

His Red Flags 🚩

• Will manipulate you to get you to stay with him.

• Doesn’t like it when you talk to other boys (or girls) that he doesn’t know.

• A literal death eater.

• Absolutely crazy.

• Gets into fights tons.

•Alcoholic.

• Would not let you leave him, not even for a break.

• Bipolar along with a bunch of other mental issues, he also refuses to take medicine for.

• Loves you sm, but sometimes doesn’t always show it.

• There’s a lot more, he is just a walking red flag ngl.

——————x——————x——————x——————x——————x

-First headcanons i’ve done. How did I do? Let me know if you want headcanons for anyone else! :)-

[lovelyghst]

is there a kink for saying “i love you” a lot during sex cause if so kyle garrick 100% has it. he’s so fucking soft and i’m obsessed.

i can just imagine him coming home to his cozy apartment after a longgg day, to his sweet girlfriend who’s never seemed to let him down. recruits defying orders, drills lasting hours longer than originally intended, mounds of unnecessary stress added to his job; it all become obsolete when he lays eyes on you. when you greet him with a huge bear hug and so many kisses at the door, he can practically feel his muscles melt. there’s barely enough time for him to set down his duffle bag and take off his boots before he’s walking you backwards into your shared bedroom, embracing your head in his hands and nearly suffocating you with the return of affection.

he can’t take his time undressing you like he normally does, not when you’re both so eager to feel each other for the first time in so fucking long (like three days). he can’t pay mind to the mess you’re making by peeling his jacket and shirt from his torso and throwing them haphazardly so you can shamelessly cop a feel of his muscles. and he can’t possibly remove his lips from yours as you lay back on your bed and shimmy out of your pants with his help, your sugary giggles reminding him he hasn’t even said a single word since he walked in.

“missed you, love,” he mumbles whilst moving to lean over you, a hand planted beside your shoulder as the other cups your cheek, and now it’s your chance to return the endearment. you repeat his words with a smile and pull him in for yet another kiss, miles different from the previous ones though still equally as desperate.

“missed waking up beside you, feeling your body pressed up against mine… can’t sleep for shit whenever i’m away from you.”

he makes quick but sensual work with kissing down your body, from your neck to the fat of your hip. wet lips leaving their marks along the way, until his impatient fingers slip beneath the band of your panties and pull them down your gorgeous, goosebump-clad thighs.

“missed these pretty tits… ‘nd this perfect, little cunt, fuck…” he breathes. “missed how good my sweetheart tastes, all f’me.”

his murmured words seem foggy, damn-near jumbled as he comes onto you strong. hot tongue lapping at your seam, licking your clit in upward motions like a dirty dog with impeccable manners. you gasp and claw at the nape of his neck, squeeze your thighs and allow your noises to fall freely. you’re so sensitive and he’s already overstimming you despite having just started. he’s been apart from you for long enough; he’s clearly not wasting any more time. “so fuckin’ sweet.”

and he can’t rip himself from that dazed headspace ‘til you’re a panting mess, arching your back into his space. until he gets to feel you finish on his tongue hard, and ride out your high with a selfish grip on his skull, begging for more you know you can’t take.

crawling up your body as you fight to ground yourself through starry vision and a heaving chest, capturing little, vulnerable you in a kiss.

he shushes you through the stretch of his cock, cooing your winces away with quick and chaste kisses plastered everywhere from the corner of your lips to your temple. pausing there for a moment to remind you of how well you’re doing, get you finely adjusted and calmed down a bit before he’s rolling over to his back and bringing you with him, a surprised yelp being pushed from your lungs.

you land on his chest, hands planting themselves on his shoulders to catch you mere inches from his stupidly handsome face. your visual scolding only turns him on more, cocky look never depleting as he wraps his meaty arms around your waist and pulls you oh, so close.

“love you, princess.” he can’t stop tugging you in for more kisses, so much so you’re unable to reciprocate the words. “go ahead ‘nd make up for lost time, yeah? show me how much you missed this, us.”

with that, you try your best to sit up straight as you begin rocking your hips against him. lifting them a bit the more you go on, getting used to the feeling of his thick cock stretching your soft walls out. knocking at the deepest parts of you your fingers could never reach while he’s away, ensuring you go slow to keep it from turning painful.

“that’s it, there ya go, baby. a beautiful sight you are, eh?”

you nod along with whatever he says, getting yourself drunk on him as his big hands paw at your waist. not missing a beat as he pulls you closer, tongue and lips pressing against the center of your chest before spanning out and praising your hard nipples individually.

“you’re doing so good for me, sweetheart. so fuckin’ proud’ve you… fuck, i love you so much,” he can’t help but pant.

“l-love you, too,” your voice trembles, thoughts overwhelmed by the amount of bodily contact and stimulation he gives you. he’d hate to admit how his heart flutters every time he hears you say those words. “love your cock… i love it, kyle— i want more—” you choke.

begging for more despite being fully sheathed on his cock, perched on his lap with full control? christ, he knows what you want instead.

“i know baby, i know what you want. just make me come like this first, ‘n then i’ll fuck you real nice after.” his promises do well enough to spur you on to keep going, turning your little pout into a grin.

you nearly fall to shambles when one of his hands slides down from your ribcage and falls to where the two of you meet. his thumb reaching your sensitive clit whilst the rest of his fingers and palm presses up against your lower tummy, applying pressure.

“love my pretty girl… this perfect pussy wrapped ‘round my cock.” his other hand rubs up and down your back until he’s forced to drag it back to your hip and aid your movements when you begin slowing, due to both the added pleasure as well as the stinging in your thighs.

he refuses to relent in chasing his high, and neither does his thumb on your clit to push you overboard. giving him all those telltale signs, every nerve in your body responding to finally being back with your beloved partner, and he brashly seeks it out. “y’gonna come, baby?”

you don’t have the lungs nor will to tell him before it’s happening, and you’re squeezing down on his cock with a loud moan as your brain and body goes numb atop him. he wraps both arms tightly around your waist to catch you when you fall into his neck and shoulder, lifting you on and off his cock like a pliant toy to guide you past your extensive orgasm as well as aid his own impending one.

“shit— princess, ‘m gonna come…” he warns you, and your body responds with constricting down on him impossibly tighter.

you feel so good around him, so fucking perfect, and he just…

“i love you. i love you, i love you, i love you—” he murmurs right up against your temple, holding your hips down as he finishes deep inside you. a low, broken moan contrasting your complacent hums at the feeling of his hot cum warming your tummy, pulling him in tight with your arms wrapped around his neck so securely.

taking a minute to breathe and recollect, revel in being back with the one you care so much for. peppering kisses all over his cheekbone as you repeat his lovely mantra.

you’re left exhausted as he cards his fingers through the roots of your hair and he holds your head close, rough and deadly hands gentle for once. he eventually mumbles, “did so good for me, love. you tired?”

you nod against his shoulder with a sleepy hum, and he chuckles faintly. maneuvering you to look him in the eyes, sharing a kiss once more before he’s slipping a hand up your spine and flipping you over to tenderly lay you on your back with spread legs.

sitting upright to fist his soaked cock that’s still just as hard, right in front of your drooling pussy leaking his pearly cum. his jaw would be at his sternum in admiration if it weren’t for his trained self-control.

he takes a moment to smile down at his pretty mess, admiring that confused look in your hazy eyes. “i made you a promise, didn’t i?”

[mysteryshoptls]

R Jamil Viper - Tsumsitter Voice Lines

Tsumsitter Jamil does not have a vignette.

Summon Line: The situation is just as it seems. I, too, have been tasked to look after this tsum that looks like me... Honestly, I don't have the time for this.

Groooovy!!: It came with an influx of unnecessary work, but… I guess having the tsums here wasn't all bad.

Home: Behave yourself, tsum.

Home Idle 1: Earlier, the tsum was studying the ingredients in the kitchen with fervent concentration. I can see the intensity in its gaze... Does it know how to cook...!?

Home Idle 2: The fact that this tsum isn't causing issues, despite being a tsum, is actually causing me to feel even more stressed. Hey, little guy... You're not scheming anything, right?

Home Idle 3: What's wrong, why are you trembling so pathetically...? Wait, do you hate bugs too? Hey, stop it! Don't push me! No using me as a shield!

Home Idle - Login: Since these tsums are already here, there's nothing I can do but grin and bear it. But if it's truly similar to me, it won't be a problem-child... Right?

Home Tap 1: The tsum Malleus-senpai is looking after holds the same sort of dignified aura. I'm curious how it will be hailed in Diasomnia.

Home Tap 2: Ruggie's tsum saw some food and leaped at it instantly. It doesn't even have a mouth, and it's still obsessed with eating...

Home Tap 3: According to Silver, this tsum is a lot more prudent when compared to the others. I see, so that's how it comes off.

Home Tap 4: Tsum, now that I take a closer look, I see that you have a hair clip with a feather on it. Amazing how there's yet another similarity between us.

Home Tap 5: ...Try not to rouse the tsum too much. We know nothing about this creature, and they do say that the more amiable something is, the scarier it is when provoked.

Requested by @farfalla049.

[lillysilvermoon]

What your Future Spouse will admire about you?

Pile 1

Your reading is SO BEAUTIFUL Pile 1, really😭😭

First of all: you have a very feminine energy (high priestess) which is like kryptonite for man🤣😁. You see, the hight priestess have a profound connection with God/Goddess. She believes everyone has their own inner guidance to lead them to their true potential. And you do this! You trust your intuition, follow your heart and your instincts and this makes your s.p just go crazy, I feel like he is very logical and he admires your away of leadership, in your own away (doesn't matter if you realize this or not) you are a leader, you inspire people without even realizing it. With you, he feels healed, you just bring so much peace, calmness and joy to him. And talking about joy: you have a childlike personality, you inner child is very happy and free, you know when it's time to be silly (happy dance) and he admires this in you, you bring his child side and makes he feels comfortable to play and just be silly with you. I feel like my heart will explode of joy right now so I think that's how he feels with you, and this makes he admire you a lot because at the same time you are a very elegant, femine and wise, very responsible you ALSO are fun to be with, you know how to play and you have this magic to him. (He loves you so very much I just can't 😭💗).

And you are confident, I feel you have the mindset of "what is mine will find me" so if something goes wrong you just drive to overcome the obstacle in a positive way. When you have a goals, you work with very fierce energy to bring them to fruition (but the thing is: you do all fo this in a very feminine, gentle and fun way, and he just admires you incredible for this).

Signs: jupiters placements, Gemini, cancer and aries and number's 6,9,5 and 8 (I think cancer's placements are important because cancer's symbol looks like a 69 and you had this two numbers. Cam also be dates or months), books, library, education, parks, lakes and flowers. (And music!!!!!! Omg I think it's important to youu or them, maybe he'll communicate his feelings by songs)

P.S: I was going to pile two but I just heard this: you help them to heal his inner child in some way, and this is something very very important to them and by extension to y'all relationship.

P.S²: I was again going to Pile two- but here it is: he admires you for that because, I feel like this problem with his inner child maybe has affected in a negative way his others relationships and you, somehow, handle this really easy, you don't even realize actually (and I just saw he looking to any place in particular think about this and feeling genuinely happy)

Blonde and redhead for some feel here.

Pile 2

Finally I'm here, hello pile 2♡ let's get into your reading shall we?

Calmness. You are so calm, even in the worst situations, you maintain a sense of peace (or try your best to!). I see here that you have multiple interests and you try to balance all of them and other areas of your life, but you don't stress yourself with this. It's like, if doesn't work it's fine, cause you are adaptable and flexible (and he REALLY admires this because I feel like your future Spouse has a tiny-bit-tittie problem with control (wink nod) and you are kind of the opposite lmao, he see you having all this interests and priorities but... it's not a obligation like "omg I HAVE to do ALL" no. You want to do all, but it's okay if don't work some days, he admires you organization and the way you management your time and schedule. I feel your s.p like calm and stable people, he doesn't like unnecessary drama in his life and you just have this flow, if something doesn't work you just be flexible and this is important too: you think before make decisions! 100% not reactive, you think and go inwards before choosing anything. And you have a introspective side that he just loves too much.

I feel like you are someone who brings them peace love and very good advices when needed (after all no one likes be with someone who just complains, fight for every minimal thing, always need to be right to feel "respected" etc, he admires the peace bring with you.) I feel he deals with a lot of stress in his work place and when he sees you... it's too good, like a oasis.

Signs: poems, tea, wind place, scorpio, leo, sagittarius, venus, Saturn, Uranus and Neptune placements are important, numbers 7, 11 and 12 (can be days, months or house in astrology; 7 represents love and commercial partnerships and our relation with public, 11 it's ruled by Saturn and Uranus (definitely a lot of air sign) and talks about flow, strong thinking and important of expansion and 12 it's the house of our unconscious, fears, dreams and spirituality)

Pile 3

I feel like you give a lot of importance to material possessions, you don't act like "Oh money isn't important blablabla" you know money is important, you work to have a good life, to you things like good education, good house in a great neighborhood, travel to have fun but to also acquire culture and knowledge, good clothes with quality. This are important too you (is giving me old money mindset vibes and if you don't know about it, and I'm NOT talking about the "old money" from Tiktok - I highly recommend the "The Old Money Book: Living better while spending less" to you, it's very short has 158 pages) but you don't live FOR money, the money is your servant not your master!

He admires how you always seem to have a behavior like "this is only temporary and shall pass soon" when something bad or uncomfortable happens, and he really admires this. You have a very outgoing personality, full of energy and optimism (and you have some kind of sex appeal but in a elegant way), you are not afraid to work to have the things you desire, your energy is very positive and uplifting (I feel like your future Spouse enjoys SO MUCH talk to you, he loves to see you so determined to get the things you want and he has this feeling that you two will evolve and grow together.

Also: you are a generous soul, with money and with your time, love and affection and wisdom. Maybe you are into some charity, you are very loving and loyal and this... big turn on to them, I think it's honestly the thing he admires most about you, your personality, your values. You like a rare jewel to them.

Signs: VERY strong water placements, pisces, scorpio and cancer, moon, sun and Mars placements (makes so much sense because mars rules goals) numbers 6, 5, 4 and 8 (can be days, months or house. 6 its concrete and practical knowledge, it's also associated to cleanse, maintenance, work capacity and routine service's (again: makes so much sense, you guys value quality and take care of what you have so last longer, don't have need to buy new things), 5 it's you creative side, what gives you pleasure, 4 it's what we have most profound in us and 8 transition of life and things, ending of cycles).

Hope y'all like this reading, it's my first reading related to love and I'm so happy, I had so much fun doing this and hope you guys too. See you in the next reading.

Xoxo

- Lia

[illubean]

Omg the zoldyck!reader hcs were so cute!! If there aren't too many requests rn can you do something where reader went to the hunter exam to keep illumi from fucking w/ Killua too much? i.e reader knows pin guy is illumi but won't tell Killua because they don't wanna get murked and is also secretly communicating w/ illumi.

Killua's Defense

Characters: Killua Zoldyck, Illumi Zoldyck Type: Oneshot, Gn!reader, Zoldyck!reader

HAHA SORRY THIS ONE TOOK SO LONG IT TOOK A LOT OF THOUGHT

Warnings: Illumi being a poopie head

Being a descendant of a well known family of assassins meant a lot of things. It meant you were destined to continue the family business, get payed by random people without questioning their motifs but also a lot of times it required you to travel. Your family got requests and offers from all over, meaning easy access to round trips is very beneficial.

Which is why you along with your twin brother decided to take the exam. He was much more serious about the whole assassin thing than you though. To him, the family and his job was what made up his entire life and in his mind there was no room for anything else. You, however, thought there was more to life and fully supported the idea of having hobbies and making friends.

Since he was so serious, Illumi decided to alter his appearance for the duration of the exam. You honestly didn't see much of a point in this, especially considering there were very few if not zero people who knew the faces and identities of the Zoldyck family. But whatever, it's his life.

Illumi's little disguised proved somewhat useful though, because your baby brother Killua happened to be there. You loved all your siblings dearly, but Killua always had a closer bond with you than anyone else. You were the only one who ever bothered playing with him while he was growing up, which naturally caused him to favor you over the rest of the family. You couldn't have been more proud of him when you found out he had run away from home. You fully supported him in taking control of his own life, hoping he'll end up finding something that really would make him happy.

Eventually, you parted ways with Illumi because his weird clown friend showed up. You kept in contact with him via cellphone, but knew you probably wouldn't use it very often.

When Killua first spotted you, he had no idea how to feel. You were his favorite sibling and he trusted that you wouldn't force him to do anything, but he still had his suspicions.

"What are you doing here? You're not here to take me back are you!?"

"No, Killua, I'm not. I just need a hunter license for a job."

He let out a sigh of relief before looking around and asking you another question.

"Illumi isn't here, is he?"

You felt bad for lying to him but at the same time it was probably best for him not to know. If he did, he would just be under unnecessary stress and it would cause an argument between you and your twin that you rather not have.

The next time you met up with Illumi was on Zevil Island. The two of you had allready collected the badges you needed and he was talking to freaky clown dude. You payed him no mind because you rather not interact with that guy.

"I take it you've seen Killua around," you stated.

"Yes, I have. And I intend to bring him back home after the exam is over."

"Stop meddling in his life Illumi. He's old enough to think for himself and if he decides he doesn't want to be at home then-"

"That's not how father raised us, Y/n. It is our job to serve our family and carry on it's legacy," he says, cutting you off while beginning to dig.

"I'm going to sleep until the deadline," he then turns to his friend. "Best of luck."

And with that, he buried himself underground. You huffed in annoyance and clenched your fist before yelling at the pile of dirt before you.

"Dad didn't raise us to be control freak manipulators either!! You- you...you gopher!!"

Your brother's jester friend chuckled at you, causing you to shoot him a glare before storming off.

As the final phase of the exam rolled around, things weren't looking too good. Killua's next opponent just had to be Illumi. didn't it? You watched with an unsettling feeling at the bottom of your stomach. Your poor baby brother stood there trembling as Illumi spoke.

"You're not cut out to be a hunter. You were born for one purpose; to be an assassin."

At this you took a step foreword.

"That's enough Illumi. Mom only wanted you to check on him, this is too far."

He ignored you as he continued his speech.

"You're a puppet of darkness, devoid of passion. There is nothing you desire, nor is there anything you wish for. As one who lives in the shadows the only pleasure you're capable of is derived from causing death. Because that's how dad and I raised you."

You grit your teeth at this before taking another step towards the ring, getting stopped by a man and reminded of the rules. If you stepped on to the ring you would be disqualified.

Before you could start screaming your head off at your deranged twin, Killua began to stand up for himself. You couldn't be prouder of him for finding out what he wanted from life.

Then Illumi starts to tear Killua down again. Some tall guy with glasses begins to yell words of encouragement at Killua. After Illumi's threat to kill Gon, you stood protectively in front of the door along with 3 of the other contestants.

"Oh what a pain. I need to acquire a hunters license right now so I can do my job. But if I kill them, I'll fail, and Kil will pass automatically. Oh no, the same thing will happen if I kill gon! Hm.....wait! I'll pass the exam then kill Gon!"

"You know you could've kept that monologue to yourself, right?" You sassed. "Even if you do pass and go after Gon, I won't let you."

"Poor, little Y/n. You've always been so soft. Your emotions is what makes you weak."

"Shut up! You're supposed to have our family's best interest in mind, right? Then let Killua go out and make friends! It's his job to decide what he wants."

The black haired man simply chooses to ignore you and continues to threaten Gon's life. And to antagonize Killua. Everything you and glasses guy were yelling from the sidelines went in one ear and out through the other as Killua gave in to the pressure of Illumi's aura and forfeit the match.

"Haha, I lied Kil. I was never going to kill Gon. That was only a test to see what your made of, and now I know for certain. You are simply not qualified to make friends. Not that you need any."

As both of them left the ring you could tell something was off with your younger brother. You glared at Illumi, your face saying 'I'll deal with you later' but he payed no mind. Right when the next match was about to begin, Killua walked up and killed the old man without uttering a single word and left the facility.

He was now disqualified.

Imagine your surprise when you saw Gon march in and demand that Illumi apologize to Killua. And how you were even more surprised that he not only managed to flip a grown man, but also break his arm.

As you watched the little green boy confront your brother and listened to the blonde one along with the glasses guy try to reason with Netero, you were happy he was able to find such good friends. Gon was a good kid with pure intentions, and the other two were willing to publicly defend him.

After the whole orientation thing, Gon and Co. approached Illumi to ask about where Killua might be as you stood off to the side. As they left you followed them, waiting until Illumi was out of earshot to call for Gon's attention.

"Huh?"

"If you want to get to Kukuroo mountain there's a tour bus that takes you to the outside of our property. You'll need to pass through our testing gates to reach the estate or else our 900 pound guard dog will kill you."

"Oh, thanks a lot! But why are you helping us?"

"Because Killua could really use friends like you guys. You're a good kid and I trust that you'll make him happy. I would lead you there myself but I have my other brother to deal with, good luck."

You stormed back towards Illumi and slapped him in the back of the head. He let it happen of course, considering he could hear your angry footsteps from a mile away. No matter how angry you were at him, there wasn't much you could do. Fighting him would be useless, considering you're both at about the same strength and skill level and verbally berating him doesn't have any affect. But you chose to do the 2nd one anyways.

"What the hell is wrong with you? You know, this is why you're Killua's least favorite. All you do is try to boss him around and control his life. Seriously, do you have anything better to do?"

"Kil is the next in line to be the head of our family, I'm just making sure that he will be able to do so without any distractions."

"Newsflash Illumi: he's 12. You're 24. If anything, you should be next so why don't you go find a wife or something. And how come you're allowed to have your fruity party clown friend but Killua can't have any? Seriously, I much prefer the boy over that creep."

Illumi stopped walking and turned towards you.

"Hisoka is an acquaintance. Not a friend."

"Yeah, yeah whatever. Defend your jester boyfriend," you say, rolling your eyes. You stepped closer to the man before you and looked him in the eyes as you spoke once more.

"Let Killua have this. If you decide to go after him, trust me you will be dealt with."

[hylianane]

God okay I cant screenshot prev rn but do read it also, making this post taught me that the Usopp fans might just be completely unparalleled when it comes to their analysis of their boy.

I wish Zosopp had more canon scenes together cause just honestly Zoro’s stance in Water 7 had my head spinning with all the different ways a direct heart to heart between the two of them could go down. Cause I think. Zoro has more unshaking faith in Usopp, his skill and his bravery, than Usopp could ever even fathom. But I think. It deeply upsets him when Usopp doesn’t grant him and the crew (and particularly himself) that same faith in return. And it’s a mix of hurt feelings and pride, and this stern sort of anger at the unfairness of it. And it’s juicy. I wanna eat it.

[catzz089]

“Omg could you imagine how terrifying it would be if your just having fun matting with your friends then suddenly an F1 driver pulled up??”

No, I couldn’t. I’m shit at imagining.

I Like writing though

“Charles, please. We are going to be late if you don’t hurry up.” Max called through the door to their bedroom.

“I’m almost done!” Charles screamed back, still rifling through something in their bedroom, causing an overflow of mess that Max would somehow be coerced into cleaning up.

Max sighed, how come this happens every single time Max tries to plan something nice for them both, he really just needs to let Charles stick with the planning.

Charles slammed the bedroom door open, waltzing up to him and spinning, throwing his arms out,

“How do I look?”

What idiot stares at Max with the most gorgeous looking face known in history, and a perfectky accentuating outfit and then has the gall to ask how he looks?

Well, aside from Max’s idiot bug that’s a conversation for another time.

“Gorgeous, get in the car.”

He sighed dramatically, “it’s like you don’t even love me anymore, baby.”

“That’s because I don’t,” Max deadpanned, “Now please get going, we are cutting it way too close right now.”

Charles grabbed his hand, and began walking outside, “We’ll be fine mom cœur, you’ve left us ages of time, stop stressing.” He brought their hands up, planting a delicate kiss on Max’s hand.

Max pouted, “you can’t just kiss me and expect me to forgive you for taking literal hours ti get ready.”

“Yes, I can. Now hop in.”

“Wait I thought I was driving?”

Charles opened the passenger door, forcing him down inside.

“Nope,” he said, popping the p, “you thought wrong. You’ve done too much, let me drive.” He began doing the belt on Max’s seat.

Which was entirely unnecessary.

But quite sweet.

Not that Max would ever admit it, Charles would get far too big a head.

Charles jumped into the drivers seat, resting a hand on Max’s thigh and high-tailing the car out of their, knocking over their own bin as he did.

“Seriously? If your going to destroy property, at least make it someone else’s, I don’t want to deal with that.”

“Then pay someone to deal with it, I’m pretty sure you have the money for that.”

Max sighed, leaning back in his seat and gripping onto the car door, it probably wouldn’t save his life but security was security when you’re in a car with Charles Leclerc.

By the time they reached the track, they very much were late, only by 10 minutes or so, but still.

Late.

Max grabbed at Charles’ hand, running off to the changing rooms and dragging him behind.

“Max! Come on,” he whined, “Slow down, I haven’t gone for a run this entire off season, I’m going to get a stitch.”

“Your not that unfit, Schat, I want to get in the track, hurry up!”

“Maxie,” he complained, again, “we are on the track like every weekend, why are you so desperate to go back, it’s our holiday.”

Max just huffed, shoving on his race suit- Redbull, obviously, he’s not wearing some rental- and dashing down to the karts.

Charles groaned, running after him.

There was already an array of kids, all around 6-14 years old already down there and driving.

Charles had the pleasure of watching first hand as their jaws dropped, and nothing but pure terror filled their eyes.

His oblivious little boyfriend however, was far too focused on finding one of the remaining karts with the best tires and bagging that for himself to notice the kids trying to escape the track.

It’s not like they were even going to be racing strangers, just eachother.

Yeah, sure, they may just happen to be driving in the exact same track at the exact same track, but neither of them would ever dare to cause an accident.

Hopefully.

When the started their karts, Max bolted it into the track, making some poor 10 year old serve his car out of the way to maintain a good distance away, Charles screamed an apology behind him and followed in quick pursuit.

Their two hour session lasted a lot like that.

Charles ramming his kart into Max, subsequently banging into another kid

Max screaming in delight at overtaking Charles, scaring the child in front, making her flinch so badly she binned it into the wall.

Charles realising that the kart he thought was Max’s, was in fact a slightly older kid, so yelling “I beat you!” Into his face as he crossed the start line a millimetre in front was NOT the flex he thought it was.

In Charles’ defence, Max was arguably far worse than him, deliberately falling behind Charles to beat into him one too many times that he too, forgot the difference between a monegasque F1 driver, and a teenager, swerving his car into hers, knocking them both out of the track.

It was the most fun either of them had felt in a long while.

Neither of them were allowed back.

[opashoo]

Do you have any advice on how not to get so overwhelmed when it comes to conlanging? I get overwhelmed way too fast with the information I read on the conlang subreddit David j Petersons book I have or YouTubers I just get burned out.

I start out on my phonological sounds and sometimes I add a new sound or get rid of a few I find unnecessary phonotactics is where I end up getting stuck/frustrated and stoping completely. I don’t know why but my brain just cannot compute when it comes to phonotactics no matter how many videos I watch of people explaining it or looking through Wikipedia just doesn’t register in my brain. I’m assuming this is happening because I’m autistic which is even more frustrating I’m so slow when it comes to learning or I end up comparing myself to others for understanding/learning things faster than me. I get motivated to make a language and then I get overwhelmed it’s just a repeat cycle to the point where I just want to give up. I’m not even sure if it’s possible for me to make a conlang at this point. And then I stumble across something I never heard before from someone else said and I stress about that too and I constantly worry I’m going to make a conlang I spent so much time on only for someone to point out that it’s a reflex and I need to scrap the whole thing and start all over :(

So I have two big pieces of advice that have helped enormously with this sort of thing and they are to work small (the big picture will come together) and to know your goals. It's gonna be a lot so I'm putting it past a readmore. I also talk a bit about my own project, but it's all the way at the bottom.

First, focus on one thing at a time and take small steps. As your familiarity with your own work grows, the bigger picture will start to come together, just focus on one thing at a time.

If there's a linguistic phenomenon or grammatical construction or concept or something that you want to explore but you don't understand it entirely, then just focus on that for a while. I like to make toy languages, really, really small and simple conlangs with extremely simply words and sounds that are meant to focus specifically on one or two concepts at a time. I don't worry about anything else but those concepts; no phonotactics, no worrying about how pretty or ugly the language sounds, I don't worry about naturalism or sound changes, I don't focus on any of these things unless those things are what I'm making the toy language to explore.

My current project, Yongasabi, has a consonantal root system inspired by Arabic, but understanding the concept in a satisfactory manner where I felt confident including it in a project that I plan on publishing took actual years. I made three separate toylangs, one of which I revised and overhauled three times before eventually using that as a basis for Yongasabi. I needed that time and work to focus on absolutely nothing but sound changes and how a system like this evolves in natural languages. While I was playing around with sound changes in one toy language, in another toy language I was also trying to figure out how a system of derivation like this could into systems of nouns, adjectives and verbs. I did not focus on anything else with those toy language but those core concepts because to do any more would be overwhelming and confusing.

It's the same when you're working on a more complete language project, you build it little by little. Focus on one aspect at a time, one concept at a time. As you become more familiar with your own work and you use and apply it, you will start to see the things that work and the things that don't, and you'll be able to make decisions accordingly. It'll happen over time, but you have to avoid stressing about the whole thing.

And if there's something causing you trouble that's stopping you from making the language, there's no one stopping you from avoiding it until you're ready. I never actually properly wrote down Yongasabi's sound inventory, assimilations, and allophones until the grammar document was at 204 pages because I hate working on that stuff. :huntershruggy: That's usually the first thing a lot of people like to work on for some reason, but I hate it and I just went by instinct for 204 pages and five months. If I let that stop me, I never would have made any progress. There were some things I had to go back and update because of it, and that took extra time, but extra work with progress is better than no work and no progress.

Second, understand your goals.

A piece of advice I got from David Peterson's videos and several other conlanging youtubers is to know why you're making your language and what your endgoal is. As long as you understand what your goal is, you can prioritize and decide what steps you need to take to get there. You need to understand what you want or else you'll never be able to work towards it, and you reduce the chances that you'll be happy with it.

For example, I've known some conlangers whose goal is to make some kind of secret, diegetically constructed language for a fictional setting, or maybe a secret language to use with their friends, but they get caught up on rules of naturalism and worry about naturalistic development. You don't need naturalism if the point of your language is that it didn't develop naturally. That's just a waste of your time.

Conversely, I've known some naturalistic conlangers who feel obligated to add every new concept they come across with the idea that "Well if it evolved in a real world language, then it must have some use to real speakers and thus belongs in this language" but they miss the point that a natural language doesn't need to contain every naturally developed phenomenon. In the end they're left with something bloated, hugely redundant, and incredibly disappointing to them.

I've also met conlangers whose goal is to make a naturalistic conlang for a fictional setting only to be hugely dissatisfied when they follow the rules of naturalistic development and it makes a language that doesn't sound the way they want, or it doesn't evoke the feeling they want, or they find that their progress is unnecessarily bogged down by learning rules they find boring, because they don't actually want a naturalistic language, they want an artlang that services their story.

In all of these cases, the authors of these conlangs didn't understand their goals. They did work they didn't like to make end products they were dissatisfied with because they failed to meet their real goals. These goals can shift over time, but in the end that's fine as long as it makes you happy. You need to be making your conlang for you and your purposes! You say that you've gotten stuck on phonotactics and that's stopped you before, but Yongasabi doesn't even have phonotactics outside of literally one single rule, and it's that there can never be more than two consonants in a cluster. I hate working with phonotactics too, so I made my language in a way that let me minimize that work. It doesn't interfere with my goal so I'm totally fine with that.

I know this is a lot but it really does boil down to those two points: work small so that you don't get overwhelmed, and know your goals so you can set your priorities. My goals with Yongasabi were:

Make a language that allows me to explore this fictional culture I made for the slugcats of Rain World

Derive sounds from Mongolian, Korean and Filipino (And a little bit of Vietnamese)

Explore grammatical concepts that I find cool from these languages and others (My main focus was converbs and agglutination in tandem with a consonantal root system, but in general there's a lot of Chinese, Japanese, and Korean in the grammar)

Make sure I like the sound of the language

My main guiding forces were:

Have a rough basis in naturalistic sound changes, but if it leads to sounds or situations I don't like, change it; the readers won't notice because they don't see the development process

If something starts to feel weird or stops fitting in with the rest of the language, don't be afraid to change it or get rid of it entirely because that in a way reflects organic change in the language (and extra work for progress is better than no work for no progress)

If there's an opportunity for the culture to express itself in the language, take it

If you want to judge how well I've realized those goals, you can check it out here (I'm making this post free to reblog unlike the last one because the link is hidden under all this text and 1st edition release is super close anyway I am so excited).

Anyway, good luck! I hope my advice helps!

[ilikekidsshows]

I've recently come across a post or two about Chloé damnation again and it included the points "Chloé dismisses and disrespects Chat Noir because he's subserviant to Ladybug and therefore she treats him as weak and as badly as Sabrina"

Which got me thinking about how BADLY this looks when you don't just ignore Marinettes shit treatment of Chat Noir, degrading him as her punching bag pet and eternal scapegoat unworthy of effort and anything else so she mustn't make the tiniest compromise.

Like, if you actually wanna go that route that Chloe looked up to Ladybug and treats Chat Noir like Sabrina, then you can't just skip the step where Marinette's treatment of Chat Noir would obviously validate Chloe in her treatment of Sabrina since Marinette has herself be 24/7 and openly be celebrated and rewarded for treating Chat like a pet to take her moods out on.

Between Queen Banana and Penalteam, there is no way Chloé HASN'T picked up on that from Ladybug. Queen Banana makes a joke out of Ladybug taking her sweet time after Chloé threatened to have Chat Noir beaten into a pile of meat, and in Penalteam Marinette uncaringly leaves Chat Noir behind to be publicly tormented and humiliated by Chloe, just so Marinette can get an unnecessary whole team and play soccer instead of defeating the akuma because her EGO was on the line

In Penalteam, Chat is the one person Marinette never once helps despite knowing he's the one who NEEDS her because he TOLD her he doesn't know how to play soccer. Chloé was on screen fully aware that she can continue bullying Chat Noir however she pleases, Ladybug won't intervene.

These two episodes made that CANON. Chloe learned from Ladybug that Chat Noir is a pet who can be tormented and humiliated however chloe pleases, Ladybug won't do anything because that's how a great leader and hero behaves.

Of course that doesn't give Chloe a free pass from doing so or treating Sabrina like that, but people sure are cherry picking how Chloe having looked up to Ladybug affected her when it comes to Marinette's morally bankrupt scapegoating of Chat Noir.

There is an obvious connection here that people don't wanna acknowledge, but sure wanna play that card anyway.

---

And that's just one example of how the people listing Chloé’s sins should really be more careful, because Marinette has done at least half the same stuff as Chloé, and some of it worse. I know part of the time Marinette has good intentions, but one, that's only part of the time, and two, I’ve said repeatedly that Marinette’s good intentions should not take precedence over the harm she causes.

You can take this approach with a lot of villains, actually, where, if you start listing things that make them a bad person, you’ll end up with a list that’s at least 50% stuff Marinette has also done. It’s not that uncommon for the villains to reflect aspects of the hero, for there to be purposeful parallels between them that show how the villains aren’t pure evil or the hero purely good. But, like, Miraculous seems to do this accidentally, because these similarities don’t get acknowledged by anyone in universe, and the only times they do get pointed out, it’s to show Marinette as being equally good or better based on the arbitrary value of her being Marinette while the other character isn’t.

For example, the only time the show really draws attention to the similarities between Marinette and Gabriel, it’s to prop up her fashion designing skills, how much she reminds people of a younger Gabriel. Yet, when she’s doing the exact same things, devaluing Adrien’s emotions, shutting down his concerns and attempts to reach out and, as of season 6, actively making him miserable through her neglect, no one bats an eye and we’re just supposed to overlook it because she’s stressed and “has good intentions” and didn't mean to do it. Like, what do her good intentions matter when she’s doing the same things to her hero partner and boyfriend as his abusive dad?

I could make a whole list of how Marinette has done a lot of the same stuff as all the most reviled, "evil" characters in the series, but that would take a while, and I have other things going on than writing a dossier of all the things people insisting Marinette is morally superior to Chloé, Lila and Gabriel should keep out of the discussion.