#no one is allowed to say something bad about the art or i will cry this is a threat

[wannabemasterofwindintraining]

can I get a lullabyshipping .... a beau and hannah....... looks at you like a starving victorian orphan

Please sir can i have sum moah

[pa-pa-plasma]

one of the things that will always destroy me is people believing that good story = darker/more mature/more sexual. this belief has ruined so many stories that could have been amazing & has prevented almost everyone from enjoying other really good stories simply because the age range it's aimed at is one they believe can't have complex themes, characters, plot, etc etc. they don't believe they can be moved by something a publisher or studio decided is for kids & so write it off without even thinking about it. biggest curse of being a writer who actually loves stories & telling them is that literally no one else cares in the most pessimistic, higher-than-thou, capitalism brainrot way you can imagine. & it's all automatic. because that's just what you're taught.

[hamletthedane]

I was meeting a client at a famous museum’s lounge for lunch (fancy, I know) and had an hour to kill afterwards so I joined the first random docent tour I could find. The woman who took us around was a great-grandmother from the Bronx “back when that was nothing to brag about” and she was doing a talk on alternative mediums within art.

What I thought that meant: telling us about unique sculpture materials and paint mixtures.

What that actually meant: an 84yo woman gingerly holding a beautifully beaded and embroidered dress (apparently from Ukraine and at least 200 years old) and, with tears in her eyes, showing how each individual thread was spun by hand and weaved into place on a cottage floor loom, with bright blue silk embroidery thread and hand-blown beads intricately piercing the work of other labor for days upon days, as the labor of a dozen talented people came together to make something so beautiful for a village girl’s wedding day.

What it also meant: in 1948, a young girl lived in a cramped tenement-like third floor apartment in Manhattan, with a father who had just joined them after not having been allowed to escape through Poland with his pregnant wife nine years earlier. She sits in her father’s lap and watches with wide, quiet eyes as her mother’s deft hands fly across fabric with bright blue silk thread (echoing hands from over a century years earlier). Thread that her mother had salvaged from white embroidery scraps at the tailor’s shop where she worked and spent the last few days carefully dying in the kitchen sink and drying on the roof.

The dress is in the traditional Hungarian fashion and is folded across her mother’s lap: her mother doesn’t had a pattern, but she doesn’t need one to make her daughter’s dress for the fifth grade dance. The dress would end up differing significantly from the pure white, petticoated first communion dresses worn by her daughter’s majority-Catholic classmates, but the young girl would love it all the more for its uniqueness and bright blue thread.

And now, that same young girl (and maybe also the villager from 19th century Ukraine) stands in front of us, trying not to clutch the old fabric too hard as her voice shakes with the emotion of all the love and humanity that is poured into the labor of art. The village girl and the girl in the Bronx were very different people: different centuries, different religions, different ages, and different continents. But the love in the stitches and beads on their dresses was the same. And she tells us that when we look at the labor of art, we don’t just see the work to create that piece - we see the labor of our own creations and the creations of others for us, and the value in something so seemingly frivolous.

But, maybe more importantly, she says that we only admire this piece in a museum because it happened to survive the love of the wearer and those who owned it afterwards, but there have been quite literally billions of small, quiet works of art in billions of small, quiet homes all over the world, for millennia. That your grandmother’s quilt is used as a picnic blanket just as Van Gogh’s works hung in his poor friends’ hallways. That your father’s hand-painted model plane sets are displayed in your parents’ livingroom as Grecian vases are displayed in museums. That your older sister’s engineering drawings in a steady, fine-lined hand are akin to Da Vinci’s scribbles of flying machines.

I don’t think there’s any dramatic conclusions to be drawn from these thoughts - they’ve been echoed by thousands of other people across the centuries. However, if you ever feel bad for spending all of your time sewing, knitting, drawing, building lego sets, or whatever else - especially if you feel like you have to somehow monetize or show off your work online to justify your labor - please know that there’s an 84yo museum docent in the Bronx who would cry simply at the thought of you spending so much effort to quietly create something that’s beautiful to you.

[inkskinned]

you found out today that a phrase you have used before was coined by an abusive man. this felt like getting your teeth taken out. it made you sick and sad and tired, but not surprised.

bad people tell you to be careful when you talk badly of bad men, that it could "ruin" a life. you had your life ruined by a bad man, not that it ever matters to them. your real life having real consequences is not valued as highly as the potential of his future.

this has always been a frustrating little mathematics problem for you. you've missed school and had to call out sick at work and had panic attacks that lasted for weeks. it stole sleep and food and friends from you. you cried in public, fucked your relationships up. and the whole time: your present has never mattered so much as the great what if! of his future. like - one life (your life) is already ruined, should we really ruin two?

so you live with the consequences and he doesn't, and that's just like, something you need therapy for. you once discussed this with one of your friends over coffee. she chewed the wooden stirrer, looked off into the distance. "once i became a victim, everything that happens to me afterward is automatically less interesting in the eyes of the general public. it is always about him. he changed my identity. to survivor. to statistic. meanwhile this whole time - i am a person."

you learned in college that three out of five of your favorite artists and authors were actually abusive assholes. these days, you are no longer surprised. oh, is that what was happening behind closed doors? of course it was, he was a "genius," and she was just a girl. you are talking about him in art history, so obviously his career was absolutely ruined, for eternity. that's what happens, right? they strike your name from the record and refuse to remember you? nobody really knows her name, but hey. that's what you get for being close to celebrity.

you got into an argument about it, which was a bad argument, because it made you cry. he said what, you want us to just ignore all the things this man did because he made a few women uncomfortable? and you'd balled your fists up and choked on it. later, in bed, you agonized over the response you'd been trying to articulate but never found the right moment to deploy: you are ignoring what any person could do if they weren't being fucking abused. maybe her talents far exceeded his and she was just never allowed to fucking use them. maybe we only see genius in white men because they purposefully fucking squash and silence any other people with talent.

but you'd cried about it instead of saying that, because you are the cost. you are the talent and potential that he took. you used to be brave and smart and clever and unafraid. like a lich, he stole years of your life.

quiet on set made you sad and sick and tired, but not surprised. unfortunately, one of the things he said was true: an entire network of people allowed it to continue. this is not news to you, because you have seen entire networks of people make the same fucking excuses when the same thing or-worse happened to you. and your particular story isn't even in hollywood. it was just a guy. it was still difficult getting people to stand up for you.

you and your friend wait in line for your coffee. like a standup joke, one man turns to the other and says "can't wait for every bitch to come crawling out of the woodwork complaining about harassment. it's another metoo." and you think - oh, that's the network. your boss tucks her hair back and whispers that while your skirt is cute, you're giving the boys the wrong idea. that's the network. when you'd told your "friend" about what happened, she'd said oh you must have misunderstood, that would never happen. and that's the network.

you woke up this morning panting, because years later you still have panic attacks. oh, it's not a network, actually, it's a web. and you, little moth: are you still surprised you're caught in it?

[etherealkissed88]

how i manifest when i feel anxious •°. *࿐

i decide i have what i want…

when i feel anxiety -> i let it pass while knowing its only a human reaction

◦ since i am beyond just a human (i am limitless imagination/self), i know any anxiety is below me and it has nothing to do with my limitless self. i have exactly what i decided i have, regardless of any anxiety.

know anxiety usually comes from a fear of failure

◦ so, i cannot limit myself based on what i see or what i negatively assume my future will look like bc i am always beyond the 3d, no matter what feelings/anxiety my human self experiences.

◦ i become indifferent/i dont care about what i see or what i assume i will see because i know everything comes together in the 3d once i change self/know its done. fact: everything always comes together and works out in the end. being indifferent to the 3d = being indifferent to emotions, anxiety and everything that doesnt serve you.

dont fight it, dont avoid it, tackle it head on

◦ acknowledge you are experiencing anxiety bc you are. yes it can feel like shit but it doesnt have to affect who you are being (whatever version of self you are embodying). again, i can choose to be indifferent to this anxiety. you dont have to be scared of the anxiety. it is a natural human response. cry if you need to, let it all out. dont try to suppress it bc that will only come to bite you back in the ass, believe me.

◦ take care of your mental health in whatever ways necessary. when i used to experience anxiety, i used to take walks in the park, clear my head, meditate, express myself and my emotions through art and journaling, etc. remember nothing you do (or feel) in the 3d has to affect who you are being/your state.

"how can i still have anxiety yet still be a desired version of me?"

anxiety has no affect on anything unless you allow it to change your identity. you are the one with power, the anxiety is only an experience, similar to breathing in oxygen and using our sense of touch; its all neutral. when you start surrendering to the anxiety, you are creating and accepting negative stories that you create based on the feeling of anxiety. allowing that anxious feeling to change your state/identity is surrendering to something you view as more "powerful" than you. stop transforming that anxiety into a state that you embody based on the false, negative stories u imagine.

remember a 3d experience or anxious feelings doesnt have to influence who you are being. an example: a model who knows (fulfilled) that she is graceful and beautiful can have anxiety about doing her catwalk. the anxiety is normal, she can experience the symptoms of anxiety (shortness of breath, dry mouth, shaking) but her core identity/state is still a graceful model. the anxiety is only a temporary feeling. usually when we experience these feelings, they occupy all of our attention in that moment which is why it seems so scary but in reality, its not that big a deal. know that anxiety is just a feeling. you are safe. you can still experience shitty feelings while knowing you are a bad bitch!

you dont always identify with everything you experience. for example, a lot of people experience good things and still identify as people who are unworthy of good things. so its really up to you to choose what to identify with.

i know my only job is knowing its done

◦ if i just decided its done, as the operant power, as i say goes, therefore its done. so my job is done. anxiety is part of the 3d, not my limitless self, imagination. so i can be indifferent and experience it without identifying with it, the same way people manifest what they desire while experiencing their shitty circumstances daily (because they do not identify with those shitty experiences).

◦ ive heard/experienced situations where we know its done yet we cried and felt like shit, and what we wanted still manifested into the 3d. bc anxiety is only a feeling. do not allow your feelings to take hold of your state, but if it does, its never the end of the world... just get back in the state. 3d shit/anxiety doesnt have to intervene with who you are being/what you identify with.

kisses, jani ☆

[empty-vessel-of-a-person]

How I Envision "Intimate Time" with the LaDS Boys be like.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Zayne

The Sensual Partner.

I feel like Zayne is a very sensitive and emotionally attached person so being able to connect with him through mind and soul is the best way to get him stimulated.

I never see him as the one who will inflict pain in his partner in any way. He is to gentle for that.

He will always tends to your needs first before his own. We have seen this on Hidden Motive. He did lose control of himself and become "intense" as M/C describe him. But in the end, even if he is clearly still in need, he asks M/C if what he is allowed to do.

He is the type to enjoy the goosebumps forming in your skin whenever he touch or kisses you.

He always listen to you. No plea or request will make it pass his ears and he would always deliver what you ask

He would always whisper his thank you (Zayne's Translation: I Love You) (F.U. Astra!!!!) when you both finish.

Sylus

The Intense Partner

This guy is rough. We all know that. The manhandling and almost stalker-ish behavior he have when it comes to you is all the proof we need.

He also is the type of partner who will make you experience different and new type of high.

He is confident and know what will make your body tremble for him.

He is also type of partner to takes pleasure from your pleasure. Don't get me wrong, all the boys are like this. But unlike Zayne, who takes pleasure from your equal needs for each other, Sylus on the other hand, take it from your pleasure alone. The more happy you are the more satisfied he gets.

He is the type of partner, who will leave marks on you on visible area of your skin.

He is also a type of partner to whisper "lewd" things to your ears and not be ashamed of it.

But no matter how rough he is, he will always cuddle you after you both finish.

Xavier

The Wolf in Sheep's Clothing.

We can all agree that the soft-spoken Xavier is a predator in bed. To say I am shocked on his No Restraint card is an understatement. That sweet thigh-nuzzling to unexpectedly throwing you to bed is shocking yet so hot.

Xavier longs for you and that's why I think he jumps to every opportunity to touch you and go so feral about it.

He is the king of roleplay. I bet with the right coaxing, he will do whatever you want or be whatever you like him to be. We have seen this in several occasion and the most recent is on Mystic Adventures in Misty Invasion Event.

I bet that he is a very passionate lover and will definitely takes his time on getting you prepared and worship your body especially your legs.

Since Xavier doesn't talk much, he most likely show his affection by cuddling and touching. Teasing you with his soft feather like touches that leaves you breathless.

Rafayel

The Pure Partner

He is so pure hearted I could cry. Somebody pointed this out and my big shoutout to you because I can't remember where I read it. We have to remember that Rafayel is a Lemurian. What maybe something that is normal for us in the art of intimacy, may something new for him and this made him unsure or shy about being intimate.

I feel like it will be your duty to give him in the art of intimacy. We know how much he can blush and even that kiss on tub gives me a feeling that he really wants it to happen but is unsure how to do it.

I feel bad for him that we've been so intense with him during the Misty Invasion event. If my understanding is correct, he is quite sad because of his old friend. That guy must be important for him and although we are oblivious of his significance to Rafayel, we should have been more sensitive.

And speaking of sensitive, I feel like Raf is a hyper-sensitive one. Every touch we give, every emotion we pour on him magnifies 10 fold if not a thousands.

He really wants us for him to wait 800 years and during that time, i bet he's not been with anyone and then suddenly we are going feral on him (well who can't be? hehehe)

But imagine this, you taking the lead for him and guiding him to what makes you both reach that pleasure. Slowly slides your hands from his shoulders, torso, and pelvis while whispering to him "you're doing great" and he will moan for you.

Full disclosure: I am a Zayne Girlie but Rafayel's bedroom voice can make me sweat. He knows how to use his voice (A true merman!!!!) to lure you in. (Kudos to his wonderful duber!!!!)

And lastly and the most important thing that I love about Rafayel, is how he is always available and ready for you no matter how unsure he is.

[suguru-getos]

just some over-affectionate yan!sato blabbering

yandere satoru hasn't really snapped at you, he just doesn't. always playful, always an embodiment. waking you up with peppers of kisses, making sure you have your favorite breakfast, making sure you relax around him. he even indulges in your silly little hobbies, all for the sake of making his baby comfortable. if you like painting, he is going to buy you all the colors there are, premium quality canvas boards and everything you'd ever need to bring your imaginations into reality. digital art? then you have an ipad with procreate and a pencil, anything and everything you need.

he doesn't say it but he is extremely observant, he even notices things like your skincare before you were kidnapped, and goes out of his way to upgrade it if needed. he can be a little pesky at times. what if his baby is using the wrong skin-care? probably going to fly you to the skin and beauty land 'korea' to have your skin checked, and then buy you the 'recommended' skincare.

same with aesthetics, you like wearing a certain type of fits, you have them littered in your closet room. he prefers changing styles and wouldn't mind upgrading/donating your wardrobe when you're also bored with the same ol' things.

your room is a mixture of everything you are, and trinkets of satoru in it. you are really not allowed to sleep in your room though. it's your space, just your happy corner. it doesn't have a bed. it has plush couches that are better than most beds, neon-light which speaks of your name and scented candles, perfect desks with the perfect desk mats. you just need to sleep with satoru.

he gets specifically testy when you really don't want to give him company at times. why? hasn't he done enough? most people would kill to be in your place. that's when you can see the cracks in his carefully calibrated persona he harbors for you.

he is usually very mellow, clingy and would be so playful you often forget how strong he is. "baby- but i want cuddles!" satoru whined, pulling you close to him while you squirmed when you weren't in the mood. satoru hasn't really pushed himself sexually, but he treats you like a pet in other stances. meaning - if not huggable why so cute? so you can't really escape from him during those times.

if you really, really try hard. his laughter, soft eyes, all of it drops. the usual high-pitched excitement too... "i will count to three. if you don't really come to me, there would be consequences." you haven't really checked on what the consequences are because that sets you straight instantly.

satoru HATES when you fear him, some part of him snaps so hard at that he ends up scaring you more. this happens when he's pissed about something and you flinch/wince at his tone. he hasn't done anything to make you scared... yet? though sometimes the way he comes home... reeking of dead curses, reeking of torment and torture. you automatically end up fearing him.

there was one time you took things too far, taking his leniency too far and going out without asking him. he hasn't locked the doors like a barbarian and you're making him question if he should... that's when he took you to one of his missions. shaking, quivering as you cling to him while the curse in front of you begged for death, for being exorcised while satoru made sure it healed and then continued his torture. blaming it on you as you sobbed, anxiety and palpitations all over you. "see, this is what i do... when you don't behave. you cause pain from me to others." he just wants you to know he is/can be fucked up.

would eventually feel extremely bad when you throw up from the gore and anxiety and finish the job, bringing you home and forcing you in his arms, crying with you at how bad it makes him feel to see you like this. how he would kill himself than making you cry, though a part of him is grateful that you wouldn't really go against him for a long, long while.

whenever any action done by him fucks you up, satoru takes responsibility of undoing it. even if sometimes he needs to make sure you stay with him, no matter the consequences... he would try his best to make up for it. always pestering, always kissing you, praising you for being so good to him even if you're not, behaving like an ideal boyfriend to the point where even you start suspecting if the problem is you.

he loves so sickeningly hard you end up deluded enough to consider yourself the 'toxic' one. :3

[yanderefarm]

yandere omega cultist introduction

more bad art. more disjointed thoughts. i hope i don't contradict myself when i write his part 2.

cw;; religion, omegaverse, yandere tendencies, nsft

Nephite is a very devoted and proud follower of Happy Homes. he loves his church, he loves his pastor, he loves his god.

he's always so happy to prepare the sacrament and take care of the youngest members of the church. absolutely anything he can do to help makes him happy.

his father is a very strict and rigid in his beliefs kind of man. his beliefs aligned nicely with the founder's so he and his wife joined when they had just gotten married. all their children have been raised in the cult and they don't know about anything outside of the compound.

Nephite's family along with a few others are technically considered lowest in the church hierarchy because they entered the church after marriage. they don't get treated poorly it just means they're in charge of providing food for the compound.

the coming of age omegas were promised that if they brought new alphas to the cult they would raise in rank with their new families.

Nephite was especially looked at favourably for this due to being a "dominant" omega. he was promised that his new family would be able to rise to the level of elder right under the founder's own family.

his family was more excited about the new power than he was, he just wanted to serve the church.

after meeting you the promise that elders were allowed to go into the city made the raise in rank more appealing to him.

he wants to go to all of your favorite places. he wants to go to the movies and eat popcorn. he wants to play games at the arcade. he wants to try sweets at the cafe. he's never wanted to go to the outside world before he met you.

the church never teaches that the outside world is some ominous and dangerous threat. just that impure omegas have convinced people to disrupt the natural order. if you showed any member of the cult omega/omega couples they would combust.

thats why Nephite has to save you. he has to pull you away from the wickedness of the outside world before you become ruined. if you told him you'd been in alpha/alpha relationships he would combust.

honestly if you tell him about your dating history or experiences he'll combust. he knows it's wrong for an omega to be angry and aggressive but he can't help himself. the idea of any impure hands touching you sends him spiraling.

he could easily be convinced someone else in the cult wants you for themselves. especially if his pastor says so.

he trusts anything his pastor tells him even if it was utterly ridiculous. he was the kind of kid who believed in santa until adulthood. he would believe you if you said the sky was red.

you're the only one who overrides the pastor's words. if the pastor tells him to leave you because you don't love him he wouldn't believe it.

honestly if you started saying you don't love him he could probably justify to himself why you're lying. lying is a sin but its ok he forgives you.

he loves wearing dresses. at first it might seem like a religious thing but the other male omegas in the community usually only wear dresses to church. he wears them all year round.

if you buy him a sundress he'll be so happy he'll wear it every chance he gets. he flaunts it to all his friends how his alpha got him something pretty.

buy him anything and the whole commune will know about it baring few exceptions. you bought him a new bible? he takes it with him everywhere. you bought him some jewelry? its always on to show off at a moments notice. you gave him a cool rock? its his lucky rock and has to go everywhere with him.

he adores pet names. call him anything even if it doesn't sound that cute and he's thrilled. he calls you husband and alpha and dearest until he can't talk anymore.

if you call him wife he'll probably start crying. he likes husband too but he was taught all omegas are wives so he'll probably be confused at first if you call him that.

nsfw

his dad was in charge of making his account and monitoring his messages so unfortunately for you if you ever sent something dirty. the pastor probably also saw it. sorry.

Nephite definitely smells like blackberries and honey. its sweet and warm and permeates through everything he owns.

he has a breeding kink. major breeding kink. after your first night together its like he's constantly in heat (his actual heats are so much worse). he knows it's a bit naughty but he won't be satisfied until he's pregnant.

he'll be understanding if not a bit sad if you don't want to have kids but still tell him you're gonna get him pregnant every night anyway.

one of the few things he wouldn't go around letting everyone know you gifted him is lingerie and toys.

you'll need to explain toys to him a little bit but he understands lingerie. he loves lingerie. if you buy him some he'll wear it under his dresses all the time. it feels a bit naughty but he doesn't mind.

definitely secretly has a corruption kink. he's devoted his whole life to being a pure innocent soul so when his husband who he's equally devoted to starts making him be naughty he gets such a thrill.

he'll cry and beg you to not turn him into a pervert but he's just talk. nothing makes him squirt harder than being told he's dirty.

and he is a squirter. you have to work him to it but the moment your knot pops inside of him its over for him.

the cult doesn't believe in modern medicine like heat suppressants or birth control so everyone in the compound uses natural remedies for everything. except that doesn't work for dominant omegas. most modern heat suppressants don't. Nephite's first heat was absolutely brutal for him and he was stuck in bed for two weeks before they finally let him see a doctor in the city. that's when he learned about his status and he was put on some of the strongest heat suppressants. it works but it did make him feel weaker sometimes.

luckily now he's married so he threw all that out. he doesn't let you take any rut inhibitors either. when it's time for either of you he just politely tells the pastor that he'll be gone for the next two weeks. they don't always last that long but he likes to get extra cuddles in while the last of it fades.

its during his first heat with you that you mark him. its a weird marriage ritual the cult has where the pastor distributed heat inducers into Nephite. the elders of the cult along with the pastor watched you guys. it really ramped up the creepy cult vibes. but Nephite was happy.

he knows you can't mark him more than once but he always wants you to bite him again. he likes if you leave any marks on him. claw his hips, bite his neck, leave hickeys on his chest. he doesn't care how hard it is to cover up he'll be happy.

loves to steal your clothes. he'll remake his nest about once a week and give you back your clothes so you can add your scent again. and the ones that dont pass the nest test he wears to bed until they lose their smell.

he'll welcome you home like "do you want dinner, a bath, or me?" and if you don't say him he'll pout all through dinner.

[amirasainz]

hey! do you think you could write something where charles starts dating baby sainz after alex, and for a change she really doesn’t like baby sainz, or even a random oc ex gf of charlie and he gets annoyed whenever anyone says anything bad about baby sainz, and just wants her to himself? Thank you! ❤️

Ok so first things first. This is just a fic and not supposed to be hate towards Alexandra.

Now please enjoy reading and don't hesitate to send requests.

-XoXo

The better Girlfriend

The breakup between Charles Leclerc and Alexandra Saint Mleux was far from friendly. Their relationship had been plagued by cheating rumors, and the truth eventually came to light. Alexandra, a 21-year-old art history student, had kissed another guy during a girls’ night out. When this news reached Charles, their relationship came to an end

But Alexandra’s behavior during their relationship had already caused friction. She openly expressed disdain for Charles’s job in Formula 1, even going so far as to claim it wasn’t a real sport on live TV. Her rudeness toward fans and unreasonable demands put her in an unfavorable light. Charles endured his worst F1 season while they were together, and the media and fans didn’t hesitate to express their disapproval of her.

When Charles finally broke up with Alexandra, he received overwhelming support from the F1 paddock. His fellow drivers rallied around him during this difficult time:

Lando played games with him to keep his spirits up.

Pierre offered a sympathetic shoulder to cry on.

Max made sure Charles ate proper meals.

Carlos helped him navigate the PR drama.

And his “Grid Dads”—Sebastian, Lewis and Fernando offered invaluable advice.

In the midst of the drama, Charles found solace in the camaraderie of his fellow racers, proving that the racing world extends beyond the track and into the bonds of friendship and support

But there was one person, that helped him the most. Amira Sainz, the unsung hero in Charles’s life. While others lent their support, it was Amira who stood by him, often without uttering a single word. During Charles’s tumultuous relationship with Alexandra, Amira remained an enigma—a girl he wasn’t allowed to befriend due to Alexandra’s jealousy. But now, free from those constraints, their paths converged.

From strangers to friends, and then lovers—their connection felt destined. The media dubbed them the “it-couple,” and fans followed their story with respectful fascination. Initially, Carlos wasn’t thrilled, but time softened his heart. With Amira, Charles discovered a happiness he’d never known before—a beautiful girl who became his world.

And Charles reciprocated her love in every possible way. Each morning, breakfast in bed; after races, flowers to brighten her day. He listened to her fears and troubles, making her feel cherished and protected. But Amira wasn’t just a passive recipient; she left post-it notes in his luggage, their apartment, and even his car. She comforted him after bad races, helping him navigate his emotions. Together, they shared a dog—a symbol of their bond.

Their love wasn’t hidden; they proudly displayed it online. Fans embraced them as the “it-couple,” and Charles and Amira reveled in their shared journey. In a world of engines and speed, their love story unfolded.

Alexandra, Charles Leclerc’s ex girlfriend, stumbled upon one of their date posts. What she saw ignited a fire within her—a seething rage that drove her to spend the next five hours stalking the couple and dissecting their relationship. But Alexandra’s fury didn’t stop there; oh no, she took it a step further. In a desperate attempt to reclaim her own narrative, she created not one, not two, but seventeen fake “Alexandra and Charles forever” accounts on Instagram.

The internet, however, is a merciless place. Within minutes, eagle-eyed users ridiculed her fabricated accounts, exposing the charade for what it was. Alexandra’s attempt to rewrite history crumbled under the weight of public scrutiny. Perhaps it was a desperate cry for attention or a futile bid to regain control, but either way, the digital world had spoken: “Fake news!”

And so, as the engines cooled down and the F1 tracks took a breather during the summer break, Alexandra found herself caught in a whirlwind of her own making. Meanwhile, Charles and his new love interest, Amira Sainz, continued their blissful journey, oblivious to the storm brewing behind the screens

The pitlane buzzed with anticipation as Alexandra, fueled by anger and resentment, strode toward the Ferrari garage. Her eyes blazed with determination, and the photographers snapped away, capturing her every move. Lando and Max exchanged shocked glances—what was she doing here?

The Ferrari team, despite Carlos impending departure, held a special place in their hearts for the Sainz siblings. Their camaraderie and dedication had left an indelible mark. But now, Alexandra—the wicked witch, as some whispered—had infiltrated their sanctuary.

As she stepped into the garage, the once-happy atmosphere vanished. The air crackled with tension. Alexandra’s gaze swept over the familiar red cars, the tools, the mechanics—all part of the world that had embraced Charles and Amira. She clenched her fists, vowing to tear apart the relationship that had blossomed in this very space.

If it was the last thing she ever did.

And so, the pitlane witnessed a battle of emotions—a collision of love and hate, fueled by jealousy and wounded pride. The engines roared, but the real drama unfolded in the hearts of those who watched.

She looked around at the quiet garage and immediately spottet Charles and his plaything. The tensions were high as she strutted towards them. "Charles" she tried to say in a seductive voice. When she went to hug him and kiss his cheek, he stepped away. "Alexandra, what are you doing here?" he questioned sternly. "What? Can't I see my favorite athlete" she harshly asked. "Does the stupid bitch not allow you to talk to other women?" She turned to Amira. "No wonder she doesn't, I mean look at her. I truly don't see what you see in her. She dresses like a slut. I'm sure she also sucks your dick like one and-"

“Enough!” Charles’s voice boomed, cutting through the tension. “Don’t you DARE disrespect my girlfriend. You destroyed our relationship. You used me.”He stepped closer to her, eyes blazing with anger. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll never step a foot in the paddock.” With that, he turned away, leaving Alexandra standing humiliated in the middle of the room.

The air crackled with the aftermath of his words—a collision of emotions, hurt, and the finality of a chapter closing.

[spookieloverslittlemind]

How protective are they…

includes: Michael Myers, Pinhead, Brahms Heelshire, Art the Clown, Sun and Moon (fnaf), Marta (Outlast 2)

a/n: it’s grey and rainy outside yk what that means

Michael

Is this a joke. Michael will literally kill anyone who breathes your air if you ask him to. In fact, at the start of your relationship you had to set a boundary by telling him not to kill every person you encounter, unless you give him the clear (given those kills aren’t his own random kills, he allows you to set a rule of “don’t just kill everyone”). This stems from him walking out your front door, following the mail man one time. Michael is the epitome of the “me and my bitch don’t argue she tell me shut up and I do” trope when it comes to you except his version of shutting-up is putting down the knife. That said, you’ve got plenty of time to stop Michael because he’s only ever walking after someone, so there’s not much danger of him accidentally killing the wrong person. When, however, you do give him the green light to commit murder in the first degree…Michael’s all over it like a bad rash. You’ve never seen him walk with more purpose than when you’ve sighed and said “fine” to him killing someone. Once, you made the mistake of telling Michael he was allowed to threaten but not kill - you were very specific - man who’d been bothering you at work. At first, you thought the guy was just off sick for a couple of days out of pure fear from his encounter with Mike. Then you started seeing the missing person posters. You had one of them on the dining room table when Michael next came to visit and he just tilted his head with the closest expression he can pull to resemble 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 behind the black eye holes of his mask.

Pinhead

Is this a joke. Pinhead can and will summon a portal to any circle of Hell of his choosing to forcibly grab any mf that tries you in any capacity via chains and drag them to eternal suffering. He doesn’t even have to be there to witness the crime before he’s playing judge, jury and executioner that omniscient bastard. He’s very calm and collected about his protectiveness unless someone actually hurts you, in which case he personally handles their eternal torture. Pinhead doesn’t have much of a concept for politeness but the first time he felt the energy of a cashier being less than friendly to you he summoned a portal and you had to rush home to explain that any poor soul working in customer services suffers enough and should not be sent to Hell for being less than happy working in a different kind of Hell for minimum wage. Thankfully, Pinhead brought them back and erased their memory (and injuries) so that trauma never really happened and he learned a valuable lesson that day x

Brahms

Is this a joke. Brahms will not hesitate to kill anyone that sets foot in the house unless you give him a full briefing on, like, your sister coming to visit or something. He’s more lenient with women coming over because he likes watching you smile as you talk to them from where he resides behind the walls but men? Hahahaha. You’re funny. Real funny. You should try standup. ‘Cause you know who’s standing up whenever a man’s voice is heard. And you know who’s killing them with his bare hands. It’s rare anyone has the opportunity to upset you because you’re trapped in Brahms’ mansion, but he’s the kind to track down the exact piece of paper that gave you a paper cut and tear it to shreds. Burn it. Eat it. So it’s fair to say Brahms is very, very protective. It’s a good thing he’s not allowed out, really.

Art

Is this a joke. Like everything about him, Art’s protective nature is…unique, but he’s definitely got it. He’ll watch someone upset you until it makes you cry and then flay a man, type beat. If anyone physically hurts you then yeah, they’re dead, but apart from that he likes to test how far someone will go to upset you before he steps in to act their punishment. Surprisingly, Art’s a lot more laidback than others on this list when it comes to not wanting to kill every person you come in contact with; he’s more prone to jealousy, really, because if he sees someone else making you laugh anywhere close to the amount he makes you laugh, he will want to gut them. And he probably will when you’re out of the room. And he’ll dispose of the body before you get back and mime something about “oh 😱 they had to go ☹️👉🏻 suddenly 🤭” and then you never hear from that person again, for reasons Art pretends he doesn’t know.

Sun and Moon

Is this a joke. Sun is incapable of withholding Moon if you get even mildly disrespected in any given circumstance they’re so protective of you, just hearing about you being upset is enough to get Moon appearing. Sun’s the type to remind you that you are safe and he (and Moon) will never let anyone or anything hurt you. Moon’s the type to shout at and throw toys that have hurt you or tripped you up in the Daycare. Sun is very good at comforting you and cheering you up after the fact, but it’s Moon who handles the punishment. He’s been known to leave the Daycare out of working hours to hunt down “naughty” people, and because you’ll feel guilty about it he deliberately doesn’t tell you the things he does, except to say “they will not upset you again…🌚”

Is this a joke. This servant to God has dedicated her life to cleansing the world of heretics and you think she won’t disembowel every soul that blasphemes in the presence of God’s purest gift to her? She may not have a sense of humour but you, my friend, are hilarious. Marta doesn’t understand petty offences of someone being unkind to you, unless you explain it to her, but as soon as she comprehends the fact you are even remotely unsettled by someone’s presence…God has whispered that person’s fate in her ear, and she won’t hesitate to bring it forth. Marta is not someone you can reason with, so people very quickly accept that to harm you, your spirit or your purity in any conceivable way, is to sign their own death warrant. You can’t stop her, either, because unfortunately when you say “they hurt my feelings”, God sends her a telepathic message that’s the equivalent of “🫵🏻👁️👁️👉🏻🔪”

[novantinuum]

Fandom: Steven Universe Rating: Gen Words: 2.8K~ Summary: Not too long after making peace with Homeworld and sparking the start of Era 3, Steven wakes up one morning to discover some... notable changes about himself.

AKA: The one where Steven finally hits his growth-spurt. All at once. Because of course the half-Gem kid could never experience such a human thing like puberty in a "normal" way.

[Part 1 of 2]

Just a few seconds later, knuckles rap against the door in answer to his perturbed cry. 

“Yo Steve-o, that you in there?” Amethyst calls. 

“Y-yeah?” he stammers. His brows threading inwards, he delicately runs his fingers over the ridge upon his throat, very much thrown off by the distinctly lower tenor of the sound coming from his own mouth. He swallows hard, pushing himself to speak again. Come on Steven, he berates himself, think of something lighthearted. This doesn’t have to be a bad thing. No need to completely freak out over this yet. “Who else would I be? It’s not like the whole town uses this bathroom…”

“I mean, I do sometimes. For fun.”

“Okay, fair point, but—”

“Dude, what’s wrong with your voice? Are you like, sick or somethin’?“

“No, it’s just—” 

He squeezes his eyes shut, blocking out all the nebulous, spinning distractions of his mind and the world beyond. Deep breath. It’s okay. Tons of things about his form may be entirely different right now, but like… he seems fine. Right?? Nothing about his body feels tangibly wrong like it did when he willfully stretched himself out on his 14th birthday, or when he changed all his fingers into cats, or when he lost all control of his aging and morphed into an anciently old man and almost died, it’s just… 

New.

New and wholly unfamiliar.

So what now? How can he bravely move forward with all this? What does he need to know? 

“Have, uh… have you ever shapeshifted by accident in your sleep?”

“Not that I‘m aware of,” she says, and he can practically hear the shrug in her tone. “Shapeshifting is a conscious thing you do. It’s a choice, y’know? It doesn’t just happen.”

A good long moment passes as he drinks this information in. He runs his hand through the short curls at the back of his neck as he stands there in the pair of too-small banana yellow pajamas he fit in just fine last night, musing.

“Huh… I guess that makes things pretty simple, then.”

“What d’ya’—”

“Amethyst, I think I’m finally older,” he says, still absolutely mystified by this prospect as he gawks at himself in the mirror. 

She gives a fond laugh. “Ch’a, right? You get older everyday, bud. Wild.”

“No, I mean I’m actually, physically older! Look!”

Steven whirls around and swings the bathroom door wide open to show her. Amethyst’s jaw drops.

“Whoa—! Dude!”

Chuckling nervously, he steps a few feet out, wriggling his bare toes against the wood floor. “I know, right?”

“What the heck, you weren’t kidding!” Before he can even move to say anything else, she spins on her heels and cups her mouth with her hands, hollering towards the temple door. “HEY, PEARL! GARNET! You gotta get out here and see this!”

His brows shoot towards his hairline, his heart hammering in his chest all the while at the thought of all the dumb show-and-tell he’s gonna have to deal with now. “Aww, come on, did you really have to—”

“Amethyst!” Pearl cries, scrambling through the still opening gap in the doorway with Garnet striding mere steps behind. She summons her spear from her gem and swings it to fighting stance with an artful flourish. “What happened? Where’s the threat? What do you need us for??”

Steven darts towards them, hands held up in a placating plea.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! There’s no danger! We’re fine. I just—”

“Oh, my stars—!” she gasps, allowing her spear to dissipate in a glittery flicker of light. “You’ve grown!”

“Nice look, Steven,” Garnet nods, a supportive smile gracing her lips.

“And you’re sure this is real this time? You’re not—?”

“No, no, I’m not stretching myself out, I promise. I just woke up like this.”

“B-but—” Pearl taps her fingers against her chin, appearing thoroughly puzzled— “I thought humans were supposed to age gradually, not all at once.”

Steven’s shoulders slump. “Well… that’s what I assumed too, but—”

“Come, sit with me,” Garnet says, walking around the warp pad to enter the living room. She sets herself down on the couch, patting the cushion in open invitation.

With a heavy, far too weary for his age sigh, Steven shoves his hands in the pockets of his too-small banana pajamas and plods his way over. The rest of the Gems follow suit. He settles himself right next to Garnet, with Pearl perched opposite to her and Amethyst happily lounging on the floor, leaning on the coffee table with her elbows. 

“Steven’s aging hasn’t aligned with the norms of humanity for a very long time,” she observes, a glint of morning sun that’s beaming through the window catching on the edge on the edge of her star shaped visor. Then, turning to him: “I’m curious why you think this is.”

He hums, considering all the chaotic happenings of the past few years. Despite the rare query she poses, he gets the sense that… in her vast wisdom… she already knows the answer. Or at least, a small sum of it. It should be noted that her future vision— as far-reaching as it otherwise is with the vast possibilities of existence— can’t ever touch any knowledge that she won’t be conscious for or present to receive, let alone retroactively scry into the past.

(And honestly? Thank goodness for that.)

“I’m not sure,” he says, a half-lie.

He can think of one reason he might’ve started aging again. Though, it’s not something he’s ready to talk to the Gems about yet. It’s… far too delicate a topic to risk bringing up so soon after the start of peaceful Era 3. But after spending a whole childhood being constantly compared to and mistaken as various versions of his mom… let’s just say, having his gem torn from his body and getting to see it reform into a version of himself (and not her) was simultaneously the worst and the best thing that could’ve ever happened to him. While undeniably traumatic, this experience served as the ultimate proof that he doesn’t have to waste another second of his existence chewing away at some burgeoning identity crisis, that he can live his life however he wants. As Steven. Not as Rose, or Pink Diamond, just… Steven.

He’s not exactly sure how all this mental weirdness translates into him staying stuck looking like a little kid for like… six or so years, but after he returned home from his latest escapade on Homeworld, he could sense that— despite all the messed up stuff he and Connie went through— his spirit was lighter, somehow.

So maybe, he thinks, he simply had to peel away at all the damaged layers of his identity to ready himself to move on to the next stage of his life. Maybe he had to stare death in the eye and pass through the heart of the storm in spite of all these hardships before he could piece the foundational truths of his story back together and learn to finally live again.

To start shifting his hopeful gaze towards the dawn of their bright, sunny future…

“I mean, I always kinda thought he stopped aging because we never did,” Amethyst says then, laying her cheek on the table. “Like, it happened around the time you moved in with us, yeah?”

He purses his lips, scanning his memory. “Uh… I think so? It might have been a year before. Two, even. But I was definitely hanging out with y’all a lot by then.”

She leans over and playfully slugs him in the arm.

“See, there you go! You always wanted to be just like us when you were a kid, so much that you even wore that same ol’ star shirt every day to match ours, ha! You must’ve wanted to be a Gem so badly that you subconsciously stopped becoming older at all.”

“That’s actually a pretty solid theory, Amethyst,” Pearl chimes in. “Good thinking!”

“We have seen you shift your form in response to your perception of others around you,” Garnet says with a nod. “This has caused you to temporarily age and shapeshift in the past, but for you to age in a stable way now, your perception of self must have stabilized, too. I’m very happy for you, Steven.”

She tousles his mess of curls with her gold ringed hand, a welcome little offering of affection that he eagerly leans into.

And then, out of nowhere, Amethyst starts cackling.

“Dude,” she blurts out between her peels of laughter, nudging his foot with her elbow, “I just realized— Greg’s gonna totally lose his shit when he sees this…”

Pearl’s expression scrunches inwards with prickly displeasure. “Language!” 

“What, it’s true!”

He waves Amethyst’s comment off. “Pshhh, my dad’s seen way weirder,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Like, did I ever tell y’guys how the cat fingers incident ended?”

“No!” the quartz exclaims with intensive fervor, and leans forward in anticipation. “Gimme the juicy deets, m’man!”

Garnet adjusts her visor then, her features falling into a dutiful line. “Speaking of Greg… story time can wait until later. Steven— if you want to see your father this morning, you need to head over there now… or there’s a good chance he’ll fall back asleep until one and you’ll miss your window.”

Amethyst’s lips fall into a pout as she slumps back against the foot of the couch, her arms crossed. “Awww, phooey. Spoil sport.”

He swallows a grimace as he internalizes Garnet’s prediction. Yeah, that sounds about right. That’s become a bad habit for his old man lately, staying up super late and then sleeping in almost half the day on weekends. Ever since he received that ten million dollar residues check it’s nothing that can hinder his financials anymore, thank goodness, but then again…

“Yeah… I should probably go make sure he wakes up,” he mutters, pushing his tired body off his seat. “I’ll need his help finding new clothes, anyways.”

The second he’s up and moving again, Amethyst darts around him and snatches his spot with such swift and viscous drive that one might believe this ploy were her sole quest and purpose in life. She stretches out against the seat back with a big, dramatic yawn, crossing her arms behind her head as she speaks. 

“It’s too bad you can’t just… I dunno… summon whatever clothes you want out of light, like us. That’s like the biggest bummer of humanity, if you ask me.”

“And when do you ever experiment with your outfit enough to have a strong opinion about this?” Pearl prods, crossing her arms. “It took you almost a decade to fix that asymmetrical shoulder strap.”

“Well, P… I like to think of myself as a Gem who would experiment with my outfit. One day. If I’m ever really, really bored. Consider it an Era 3 aspiration.”

Steven rocks back and forth on his heels, absentmindedly fiddling with the fraying bottom hem of his pajama top.

“Okay, uh… well, I’m gonna dress to leave now, so—”

“Yeah, see ‘ya.”

“Send a text if you need anything!” Pearl says with a casual wave.

“And don’t forget…” Garnet begins, the ellipses in her tone practically visible with the naked eye.

He pauses in his dutiful march to the stairs— (a somewhat unsteady march… as it turns out, shooting up about a foot and a half in height overnight tends to impact one’s sense of balance for the worst, go figure)— turning back to intercept whatever life advice or future vision she’s prepared for him this time. 

She grins, flashing him a quick heart with her hands instead. “We love you!”

~~

Steven trudges across the hot sands to his dad’s car wash sans his favorite flip flops, trying his very darnedest to wipe away the developing grimace on his face all the while. 

A small segment of him felt overjoyed when he first saw his reflection this morning, eager to look his age and finally grow up alongside his human friends. But after struggling to find anything that fits him even halfway right in his wardrobe, his good mood has rapidly spoiled. There’s a decent few reasons for this.

Reason number one: his old sandals are at least two sizes too small. His heels stick out over the end now, and the plastic thong digs into his toes something terrible. He literally can’t wear them without giving himself blisters. Ergo, his bare feet right now. 

Reason number two: none of his jeans sit right around the waist anymore, plus they make him look like he’s waiting for a flood. (Though thankfully, he found a stretchy blue skirt buried in one of his drawers that will do the trick for now.) 

And perhaps worst of all… reason number three: with his newly increased height, every single one of his treasured star shirts have been turned into ill-fitting crop tops, putting his gem on full display. He’s not against the concept of a crop top, but it sure ain’t a look he’s passionate about for everyday wear. It just feels… too exposing. Like, what about winter?? He can’t bear his whole midriff in winter, he’d freeze, and like… get hypothermia, or something. And not only that, but the longer he’s awake this morning the more an inescapable, thrumming ache starts to settle within the deepest core of his body, like even his bones themselves— the stubborn things— dare to object to this abrupt growth spurt.

Just… ugh. What an annoying hassle all these changes bring.  

“Stupid shirt,” he grouses, tugging at the too-tight collar, “stupid sandals, stupid Gem puberty! Why, oh why can’t I ever go through human stuff normally?”

His bare foot catches upon a sizable stone hidden amongst the beach. On any other day he would’ve successfully broken his fall, stumbling forwards a few awkward steps before regaining his balance and continuing on his way. But with his body now so different, and his center of gravity entirely off from what he’s used to, he head plants straight into the ground.

Wow, he thinks, spitting sand out of his mouth and pushing himself back to his feet. How elegant. Truly the shining paragon of coordination and grace.

Thank goodness no one was watching. Next time he’ll just have to remember to float.

He arrives at his dad’s van with no further incident. The rear doors are— following Garnet’s prediction- cracked open. Dad’s awake, at least for now.

“Daaaaaaaad,” he hollers, cupping his hands around his mouth to project. “A really, really weird thing happened, and I kinda need your help!”

A few spare seconds pass, seconds filled with the rustles of shifting blankets, the sound of a book being shut closed, and his dad’s low murmurs. The doors swing wide, though not as wide as Dad’s eyes when they wander around their bright, sunny surroundings and eventually land square on him and his new look.

“Wh— Steven, holy smokes! Look at you!”

With an awkward chuckle, he scratches away at an itch at the nape of his neck. “Heh heh, I know, right?”

“You’re almost as tall as your old man! When did this happen? How did this happen?”

“Some point last night, I guess,” he shrugs. “I just woke up like this. But Dad—” he clings onto his arm with mounting desperation— “I need your help to find some new shirts. Don’t you have like… whole boxes of your old tour merch stashed away somewhere? I don’t wanna have to get rid of my star, I just— I just need a bigger size, or something.”

“Hmmm…” Dad muses, scratching at the scruff of his beard. “Well, maybe, but…”

“But what?”

“But if any of it’s still around, then it’s probably in Amethyst’s room. All of the stuff from the storage unit ended up with her, remember?”

“Oh…” he says, brows furrowed, not quite able to parse this fact within his memory yet. And then… 

Ugh. That’s right.

Two New Years’ ago. The huge mess of crates and mattresses and long forgotten belongings. All that ridiculous Little Butler nonsense. Amethyst’s fight with Dad.

“Oh,” he mumbles, crossing his arms. “Right. Well, then let’s go find it!”

“R- right now?”

“Yeah, why not? I need new clothes, and you could see if there’s any old junk in there you might want to keep!”

With that, he grabs his dad’s hand and yanks him along, spirit filled with renewed purpose and vigor.

“And you’re sure you need my help for this?” Dad asks, lagging a step or two behind him as they march back across the beach together. “The Gems, they… well, they don’t usually want me going into the temple—”

“Oh, Amethyst will be fine,” he says with a wave of his palm. “She never cares when I go in there to check out her trash piles. ‘Sides, I need your help to find the right box! I have no idea what your old band stuff was stashed in.”

His dad flashes a tight smile, the sort he always serves up when he’s nervous, but also too timid to tell him that he’s nervous.

“Well… if you think she’ll allow it…” he relents, and picks up his pace to match his.

~~

[End Part 1... more to be shared later.]

[sea-of-dust]

Phantom theif boys x GN! Reader

Dating headcannons!

N: Adding comfort headcannons to knock two asks in one stone, they got changed to just comforting headcannons mostly. Ur not escaping pastel*pallette with this.

He's ready to fully wake up as soon as he hears your voice downstairs or just your footsteps. Morgana is not a fan of suddenly feeling his leg pulled out of bed.

Super ready to tease you. The guys smiling hard before he responds with something stupid. "I dare you" trying to hold off his chucking, he places his hand ontop of yours and spins you, stopping when you face him. "Are you a cheeseburger?" "no"

Let's you brush his hair, in fact you should. Curls are hard, ya know. His wrist can use a break, plus you're the one brushing it he sees it as a win. Ignoring the times you decided to give him pigtails

He can be super romantic at times, especially the most random, "I'm sorry I took so long, your beauty distracted me" he smirked twiddling a bit of his hair, you sigh, after a pause beginning to chuckle "I don't like you" "you love me" kissing your cheek he goes behind the counter "anything you wanna eat?"

He's always gonna be there to comfort you. Holding you close as you cry into his chest over something that had been bothering you, hearing you out while he cooks or staying by your side while you rant. "And then she was like," Oh well you need to go to extra help TO HELL WITH THAT!" You rub your temple "sorry she's just been getting on my nerves" "have you tried dropping or switching classes?" "She would reject the request everytime" you'd wonder why she suddenly accepted the following day. Maybe she finally thought you were just bad at chemistry

Will tell you he's a phantom theif trying to rizz you up. "So like we use these things called personas to fight these shadows" "woah, that's cool, Ryuji." You didn't believe him, but you let him cook, he's trying his best

Embodiment of the YIPPE sound. He loves seeing you. Could be walking to class, and he'd stop midway. "Yo!" "Hey Ryuji" great now he's gonna repeat that 3 more times a day, won't even start a conversation, sometimes, just likes hearing you say hi to him

He's super cuddly when sleepy. "Where are you going" "I told you I'm going home" "nooo" he wraps his arms around your waist "you aren't allowed to leave" trying to slip out he tightens his grip. You had to call your parents to tell them you had no choice but to stay longer

He'd get so excited when anything sport related comes along. "I wanna watch the track team compete this weekend. You should come" "do you need me to bring snacks?" "You bring them every time, though! I'll bring them this time" He'd get super hyped up about someone from the school taking the lead he almost fell off the bleachers at times.

He would buy you snacks, and you two would talk about it on a bench. "He's so annoyingggg" "I know, right!" "Like he can't shut up everything's quiet and this mf 'I HAVE A BUISNESS' shut up" "like at the end of the day he's still an incel" "EXACTLY" you two would end up ranting with eatchother so much you end up calming eatchother down, this would also translate into you just being too sad to even make funny comments. "He's just so draining, kinda makes me wish someone just told him to be quiet" "for real I almost cried at his voice" "it's too squeaky right" "totally" laying your head on his lap you look up at him just thinking. "You're staring into my soul here." he strokes your hair with a nervous expression "good" In the end, he still comforts you the same way

"Oh, it's you" turned to "it's you.." REAL quick, as soon as you started dating, he got shy

He's gonna ask you to help him with art. "Y/n do you mind posing?" "With what?" "These live lobsters I found" ".... no thank you" "but!" "I'm gonna buy you those little wooden dolls just for that" "you're better than any piece of wood!" It turns more into a praise sesson he forgets about the lobsters he's basically keeping as pets at this point

You tried to teach him how to cook, or atlesst follow the recipe. "OK so we have the custard" you grab his hand, holding it up. "Don't use that we need it for later." "My Appologies" "it's alright it's your first time making this" He's fine the first time but gets way better with practice. He'd make you jealous with how nice he'd make his food look

Tried pick up lines they were good, but the execution could use work. "Y/n! Do you have a map? " "For what?" He pauses, looking down as if thinking for the next line "because i can't help but get lost in your eyes" you smirk, watching him get more bashful than you from his own line. "Are you a painting?" You cup his face making him look at you "because I can't take my eyes off you"

He isn't very good in this field...but he has spirit! You'd sigh while watching him paint after a few eye rolls, vacant stares,leaning on him. He's gonna sense it even if you don't do all that. "Is there something on your mind?" You look down to his paints before answering "a friend of mine moved away, and I found out recently she used to steal stuff from others" crossing your arms you continue "I kinda get why some of my stuff went missing now but just to think" "that does seem rather unfortunate" "she's lucky the stuff she took was all under 10 bucks or I would have asked the phantom theives to do something" he pauses his brush for a secound before continuing on "via the website?" "Yea! They'll probably handle her if it genuinely gets outta hand" he smiles as he puts down his paint and brush. "How about we go for a walk for you to let out some steam?" "sounds great"

"I'm alone. Would you like to join me?" "Do you realize how that sounds?" "Do you realize how dirty your mind is?"

He'll be resistant to cuddling at first but then slowly realize he likes it. Won't ask for it tho but he will be a little peeved when they aren't given. Subconsciously learn the way he stares at your arms, how he grips his own, and the way he tries to get a bit closer to you, you've learned the secrets to a touch starved akechi

Would be a bit annoyed when you bring up another dude. "And then Ryuji was shaking the vending machine and the guard thought we were trying to steal snacks" "I see" "I ended up getting em though" "mhm" "you're so aggressively disinterested" "yes I am" You pause before letting the smirk take over your face "so then akechi rubbed my face and asked for a kiss" "I should" he stops typing to press his lips softly on your cheek.

He'd take you everywhere with him. Not a choice, it's only when he's at his job that he's away from you, everywhere else? Same class right next to you. Eating lunch with you, would ask you to play darts with him after school. He'd wonder why you'd look so tired when you two finally got home after school, atleast he helps with homework.

"Akechi" you move hair from his face. "What is it?" You continue touching his face as he watches as your hands move around his face. "Is there something on your mind" "is it that obvious" you pull your hand away, but he takes his into yours. There's a short pause before you decide to speak again. "A person close to me stopped coming to school after an argument we had. I'm pretty worried" "you didn't try contacting them?" "I have, but I think they'll just get more annoyed" you sigh "I just don't know what to do" "let them have their momment they'll contact you when they feel like it, in the meantime" he covers you in the blanket he shared with you momments ago "you could stay here until it leaves your mind"

"So what is skibbity toilet?" "Zen no"

He'd always order for you at places, unless you changed your order he'd get you everytime. "You gotta stop doing that" "Why you jealous I know you better than you know yourself?" "Yes"

He tries to ask you for advice on Akane. "She got upset she couldn't play and eat" "did you try making it a tea party" he scoffs, giggling a bit at the suggestion. "I'm serious. Do you have any tiny tea cups?"

He's definitely touch starved when he gets home. Barely awake, he'd cling onto you, mumbling into your ear. He's fallen asleep for a few seconds on your shoulder. "Let's get you to bed, Zen." "it's comfortable here though." "it'll be more comfortable in bed." "ugghhhhh"

He's gentle when it comes to you, especially when you get home more upset than usual. "So how was work" in a slightly annoyed tone you respond "draining they tried to give me unpaid overtime again" you sigh "hmm" without much words he lays down with you hugging you "do you want anything?" "Sleep" he smiles fondly "this house will be so quiet it's like it was haunted" The next day, do expect most of your chores to be done already, as well as breakfast. It was made with love, not with skill

[amymbona]

Can you write something about Patrick with a girl who talks a lot?

You could talk his ears off and still be listening, fucking reading your lips if he has to. Headphones go off when you speak. And you speak a lot. You're aware, right, you have a little rambling problem. But you just have a lot to say about every single topic!

In class, you always talk the most, constantly raising your hand and contributing when the professors allows you. You choose different topics and make the longest presentations just so you could tell everyone all that you've managed to remember. And, what's best you keep Patrick interested. He's genuinely been putting a lot more effort into learning and preparing for classes, especially when he's in your presence. Even when you're talking about a difficult topic, about something you don't understand, you keep brainstorming out loud. Every single math equation you solve, you keep mumbling under your breath.

"Alright, both sides are divisible by two so we can do that, mhm, then five-x goes onto the other side. No, no, no, the other way. Three-y goes there. Yup. Now five x minus two x. Oh! We can divide that by three, mhm."

And Patrick is listening. He's fucking sitting there on your bed, eyes glued to the glasses that keep sliding down youe nose, watching as you lick your lips and nod, encouraging yourself that you're doing it the right way. And, fuck, you look fucking stunning sitting there in your little shorts and working on your stupid math problems.

There's never a silent moment with you. You're a bubbly extrovert, making sure that no meeting leaves the two of you in awkward silence. You always find a topic to talk about, even if it's just the weather, and sometimes Patrick gets annoyed that you're paying so much attention to everything around you, always finding topics to talk about that you kinda forget he's here, next to you.

"Do you ever shut up?"

He doesn't mean it in a bad way, not even considering talking rudely to you. But the sentence slips past his lips before he could stop it.

"What?" your head snaps towards Patrick, lips parting in confusion. Did you hear him right?

But apparently, there's no going back for Patrick. Not now. "You talk a lot."

Oh. Your mouth closes slowly and eventually, after a few seconds of processing his words, you nod, gazing down at your lap. "Yeah, um, I guess, yeah. I guess I do. Sorry."

Fuck. You look like you're about to cry right now. Like you're about to shatter into pieces because now, at this moment, you realise how much you've really been talking. Not just around Patrick, but around everyone else too. You always talk, pulling all the attention to yourself and the things you see, that you don't give anyone else a chance to speak their mind.

Patrick shifts closer, his thigh pressing into yours. He absolutely didn't mean that. He never wanted to see you cry.

"No, no, no, listen," he begins, panicking at the glossy sight of your eyes. Fuck, he's really messed up this time. "I meant it like... You talk about everything. Everything around you. But never about me."

About him? And why would you possibly have to talk about Patrick?

"About you?" you mutter, gaze nervously raising to settle on his freckled face. "You... You want me to talk about you?"

"Yes," he nods.

"But why? I mean... We talk about you, don't we? About tennis, about Art... There's a lot of stuff we mention, isn't it?" you keep murmuring bashfully, once again prolonging your speech despite trying to hold back.

Patrick shakes his head and takes one of your hands in his. "That's not me, that's different topics."

"Then what is you, Patrick?" you wonder.

"I'm me, Y/N. I don't want to talk about the weather or some random shit. I want to talk about me, about you. About us."

"Us?" you gulp, eyes flicking between his own. Apparently, his words are still not settling in your brain in the right way.

"You're so stupid sometimes," Patrick sighs, balling both of your hands into little fists and resting his shoulder on your knuckles. For how much you talk, your mind seems so empty all of a sudden.

"What do you mean, Patrick? I'm sorry, I just don't really understand you, like, we've never talked about this before. I thought we like talking together? We're on the same wavelength and we-"

You're roughly shut up by Patrick grasping your face in his hands and pressing his lips against yours, effectively interrupting your speech. He's desperate, really, and don't know what else to do to just shut your mouth for a while.

And after a moment, his lips begin moving slowly, parting and ghosting over yours in a gentle kiss. His hold on your head loosens and fingers slide over your cheeks which have surely heated up at the sudden gesture. That's definitely not what you expected to happen.

It takes a while for Patrick to pull away, a thin trail of saliva hanging from your lips as he does so, leaving you completely flabbergasted. He chuckles at your flustered expression, running over your lips with his thumb.

"Sorry. I just had to shut you up somehow."

[uselesslexbian]

the tortured poets department sentence starters.

i was supposed to be sent away, but they forgot to come and get me.

i love you, it's ruining my life.

my husband is cheating. i wanna kill him.

thought of calling you, but you won't pick up.

who's gonna hold you like me?

who's gonna know you, if not me?

sometimes i wonder if you're gonna screw this up with me.

everyone we know understands why it's meant to be. 'cause we're crazy.

who else is gonna know me?

i should've known it was a matter of time.

we could've played for keeps this time.

once i fix me, he's gonna miss me.

he told me i'm better off, but i'm not.

fuck it if i can't have him.

i might just die, it would make no difference.

fuck it if i can't have us.

'cause fuck it, i was in love.

i stopped trying to make him laugh.

how much sad did you think i had in me?

you say i abandoned the ship, but i was going down with it.

just how low did you think i'd go before i'd self-implode?

you swore you love me, but where were the clues?

i'm just mad as hell 'cause i loved this place.

i forget if this was ever fun.

no, i'm not coming to my sense.

i know he's crazy, but he's the one i want.

i'd rather burn my whole life down than listen to one more second of all this bitching and moaning.

i'll tell you something about my good name - it's mine alone to disgrace.

you ain't gotta pray for me.

no, you can't come to the wedding.

it's gonna be alright, i did my time.

i will never lose my baby again.

ain't no way i'm gonna screw up now that i know what's at stake.

they said i was a cheat. i guess it must be true.

yes, i'm haunted, but i'm feeling just fine.

tell me i'm dispicable, say it's unforgivable.

am i allowed to cry?

i keep recalling things we never did.

someone told me there's no such thing as bad thoughts.

if it's make-believe, why does it feel like a vow we'll both uphold somehow?

they're gonna crucify me anyway.

what if the way you hold me is actually what's holy?

you don't get to tell me about "sad."

if you wanted me dead, you should've just said.

who's afraid of little old me?

at all costs, keep your good name.

you don't get to tell me you feel bad.

so tell me everything is not about me, but what if it is?

say they didn't do it to hurt me, but what if they did?

i'm always drunk on my own tears, isn't that what they all said?

i'm fearsome, and i'm wretched, and i'm wrong.

you caged me, and then you called me crazy.

i am what i am 'cause you trained me.

i can fix him. no really, i can.

come close, i'll show you heaven.

trust me, i can handle me a dangerous man.

you said i'm the love of your life.

well, you took me to hell, too.

what we thought was for all time was momentary.

are they second-hand embarrassed that i can't get out of bed 'cause something counterfeit's dead?

you're the loss of my life.

i can handle my shit.

he said he'd love me all his life, but that life was too short.

i can do it with a broken heart.

i'm so obsessed with him, but he avoids me like the plague.

i cry a lot, but i am so productive. it's an art.

you know you're good when you can even do it with a broken heart.

i'm sure i can pass this test.

they said, "babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it" and i did.

'cause i'm miserable! and nobody even knows!

was any of it true?

who the fuck was that guy?

they just ghosted you. now you know what it feels like.

i don't even want you back.

you didn't measure up in any measure of a man.

were you sent by someone who wanted me dead?

'cause it wasn't sexy once it wasn't forbidden.

i would've died for your sins. instead i just died inside.

i'll forget you, but i'll never forgive.

i haven't come around in so long, but i'm making a comeback to where i belong.

this town is fake, but you're the real thing.

the crown is stained, but you're the real queen.

you're the new god we're worshipping.

it's hell on earth to be heavenly.

[abyssalzones]

hey anon! I debated most of this morning what the best way to respond to your ask would be because I'm not going to lie to you it almost made me cry. hopefully a drawing is okay. I wasn't sure whether it was my place to share what you've sent but I did want to answer you properly, and it ended up getting kind of long... so I'll put that under the cut here (sa mention)

First of all you definitely have nothing to apologize for, a major element of my analysis (and what had made me so nervous to post it to begin with) was that it came from a very personal place, and I knew if I posted it I was going to be opening up a lot of doors. good or bad I honestly had no idea but I really hadn't anticipated such an overwhelmingly positive response, and I especially hadn't imagined so many people to share their own experiences with abuse and how what I wrote meant something in relation to that. it makes me extremely glad I bit the bullet and allowed myself to be a little vulnerable about something I enjoy.

there's something almost uniquely weird about being a victim and seeing yourself in a story but not knowing how to express that. it feels like one of those things you can't really say without crossing an extreme line, and any parallels you might be able to draw are therefore Reaching, biased by your own experiences. I've struggled with this a lot as someone who uses art not only as an outlet but a voice for my experiences- and what experiences I think deserve to not only be treated with respect but honesty. there's a lot to be said about the alienation of the victim from the rest of society when sexual assault is so overwhelmingly common in our world, and how difficult it can be to find truthful and respectful depictions of these experiences in... anything, pretty much.

I have no idea if that's what they were trying to do specifically, from a textual angle. but I do think it's possible, and am confident that they at least drew on the subject (both in the instance of Bill coercing Ford to drink and the scene later where Ford is paralyzed), which was honestly what led me to write the analysis in the first place. That "he's kinda like me" moment you describe is something I'd had for a long time but had never been able to say confidently without feeling like I was reading between the lines. But I think you're right. and I think there is a real reason why such a story could speak to people in that way, could be so important for the process of recovery... we can't always conceptualize what happens to us from our own perspective, y'know? we're trapped in our own minds for the most part. so I think fiction works excellently as a way to work through these things and see our worst struggles in someone else- and to come to vitally important realizations of our own.

anyway, all that to say I'm so glad what I wrote helped you come to that realization. hearing that makes me feel like I've done something not only to help myself find some closure, but for others to as well :] healing is always, always possible and I sincerely hope you find your happiness as Ford has, and as I've found mine.

[bunniehunn]

Happy birthday to me!!

Well, happy EARLY birthday! I’m turning 16 on the 13th of November, and to celebrate that, I’m doing a DTIYS!!!!!! Yuubeni is just perpetually 17 lol. This is my first time doing something like this so… 🥲

I just want to say, I’m super grateful to all the amazing people in the twst community and Tumblr who have made my short time here so amazing since the start! I’m forever indebted to yall for being so kind and welcoming. I’m so happy I can celebrate my birthday this year with you guys!!!!!!!!! Love yall <33

More info about the event and some context from Yuubeni (my yuusona) under the cut!

🦋: A surprise party just for me?!

🦋: I got a mysterious text to, quote, “wear something nice and come over to the botanical gardens” it totally freaked me out, the contact wasn’t even named.

🦋: I’m glad I bought this dress a while ago. I saw it while I was off campus one time and HAD to buy it. It was pretty expensive though, and I did have to buy some cheaper dinners to be able to feed Grim, though. Heh, consequences…

🦋: I screamed way too loud when everyone surprised me. I think I startled a lot of people... I could see Idia’s soul practically jump out of his body!

🦋: You know, I don’t really like birthday parties. I don’t like all the attention being on me, it gets me all stressed out. I always dreaded birthdays back in my own world but, here… I guess it’s not so bad with all my friends.

🦋: W-what? I-I’m not crying, this cake is just… r-really… good…

★彡

Now for info!

So, you all know the gist of a DTIYS. As long as you keep the outfit Yuubeni’s in, and the setting (the NRC botanical gardens), you can go crazy with poses, camera angles, throw in canon or oc characters if you like! You can send birthday wishes or oc interactions, fics if you want, whatever media, but only your main DTIYS art piece will count.

There will be three winners, first place will get a fully colored piece, second place a shaded single color sketch, and third just a silly unshaded doodle. My art is available everywhere on my page if you want to take a look. All three winners are two characters max. I’ll do oc + canon, canon + canon, and oc + oc (ships included) as long as it’s all twst related.

Entries will be open from November 1st to November 16th, so you’ve got a while! After that, I’ll be working on the pieces, but my schedule isn’t rigid.

RULES.

NO NSFW. Both me and Yuubeni are minors.

No suggestive content, no weird remarks. Yuubeni’s personality and looks are based off of me, and I really would prefer if no one made any weird comments.

No romantic material regarding Yuubeni in the entries.

Adults are allowed to participate.

For the winners, I won’t draw nsfw, suggestive or gory content. Keep it pg, please.

Everyone is allowed to participate, mutuals and followers alike.

Tag me when you submit your entry! —> @bunniehunn and use the tag #BotanicalBday

Reblogs are STRONGLY encouraged! I want this to reach a lot of people! <3

Here’s a (messy) sketch of her full outfit!

HI MOOTS! @cheerleaderman @gimmeurmoneyagh @theolivetree123 @skibidibabygirl

@beneathsakurashade @moonyasnow @fell-e @screamintoad @amatsuchan-eiliniel

@babyghoul138 @h0neybane @boopshoops @the-rini-rush

@skriblee-ksk @angelwishezz @amai-sakura-chan @mirioho @buttholesparkles

@taruruchi @scint1llat3

/NF

tell me if you don’t want to be tagged 😊