#now you just lead me to question everything

[astonmartinii]

wherever the roots may lead you | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x antonelli!reader

when one takes an ancestry test they don’t usually expect to find out that their half brother is now racing in formula one…

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by yourbff, user1 and 1,578 others

yourusername: the whole office decided to do an ancestry test - WHY IS MY HALF BROTHER KIMI ANTONELLI???

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user1: girl i follow you for your pasta recipes why am i expected to know who this man is

user2: he’s a formula one driver?

user3: he’s A BABY

user4: the way this did not answer a single question

yourbff: bro you’re italian, there’s probably hundreds of kimi antonellis

yourusername: no one asked you to be logical about this

yourbff: let’s just not claim a random 18-year-old without verifying it

yourusername: well in the short five minutes i’ve known of his existence i have googled him and all the dates line up

youbff: not to support this delusion but you two do look freakishly similar

user5: i fear my kimi stanship has led me to dark places

user6: for real why is this girl yapping

user7: idk how i got here but they do look like they could be related …

user8: if they are it’s still probably not the weirdest thing to happen in f1 this week

user9: someone needs to study the sport and as to why it’s so fucking weird

olliebearman: who are you and why have you stolen kimi’s face

yourusername: excuse me?

olliebearman: you are excused

yourusername: what?

olliebearman: you are claiming to be related to kimi but i happen to know everything ever about him sooooooooo where have you been all this time?

yourusername: well i kind of just found out about this so i don’t have an answer for you right now?

olliebearman: i’ve got my eye on you weirdo

yourusername: okay?

kimiantonelli: wait!!! ollie how did you even find this post it’s got like 2k likes?

yourusername: omg read?

olliebearman: well it just came up on my explore page?

yourusername: no the fuck it didn’t

olliebearman: EXCUSE ME MISS, KEEP YOUR BEAK OUT OF BEARNELLI BUSINESS

yourusername: you’re doing your business in my comment section?

user10: i swear these fools are meant to be at media day

user11: nothing stops for bearnelli chaos clearly

estebanocon: @olliebearman yo? we were meant to be filming like 20 minutes ago?

olliebearman: oh? i was busy

yourusername: busy getting on my nerves

olliebearman: WHO ARE YOU?

yourusername: you’re on MY INSTAGRAM PAGE

olliebearman: i am a child WATCH HOW YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT A CHILD

olliebearman: @charles_leclerc dad stop her now

charles_leclerc: why are you pinging me during the press conference

olliebearman: this is important !!!!

charles_leclerc: @yourusername oh hi

yourusername: hello ???

kimiantonelli

liked by olliebearman, charles_leclerc and 590,300 others

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kimiantonelli: i thought getting points on my debut would be the craziest part of my week but turns out i have a half sister i never knew about ??? watch your back paddock i don’t think you can handle TWO antonellis

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user12: wait so that trainwreck the other day was REAL?

user13: smile and wave girl i have no clue what’s going on

user14: we need a weekly episode of drive to survive at this point omg

yourusername: we haven’t even met yet

yourusername: i am very excited to

kimiantonelli: OF COURSE WE SHOULD BE EXCITED

kimiantonelli: i knew you were out there i could feel you in my waters

yourusername: i’m not sure you have waters? like anatomically?

kimiantonelli: well i knew you existed before your post so explain that atheist

yourusername: i’m just going to let you have this one i think…

kimiantonelli: that is VERY wise

user15: i am losing my mind over the fact that these kids are talking for the first time in instagram comments

user16: i honestly wouldn’t expect anything less from this crop of rookies

jackdoohan: please do not lump me in with this nonsense

kimiantonelli: so our family love is nonsense to you

yourusername: jack!!!! after everything …. i can’t believe this!

jackdoohan: we’ve never spoken before?

yourusername: well in my familial research i watched the rookie round table and you ranked highly to me… but i see

jackdoohan: wOAH PAUSE

jackdoohan: my apologies

kimiantonelli: they all come crawling back …

user17: what is actually happening?

user18: so like has anyone stalked this girl? who even is she?

olliebearman: y/n y/ln is a 26-year-old marketing manager who lives in london. she runs a pasta-themed instagram account to apparently page homage to her ‘italian heritage’. she has no kids and no boyfriend or girlfriend. by most accounts she doesn’t have many friends or hobbies or money?

kimiantonelli: that’s like… kinda hot?

yourusername: you do you i guess

yourusername: also like that’s such a rude write up on me ???

olliebearman: so you don’t think i’m hot

kimiantonelli: that’s SO rude y/n

yourusername: you’re EIGHTEEN??? and also have this weird tension with my brother… idk i’m not a therapist?

olliebearman: i’ll call my dad again

yourusername: oh the one from the other post? please! i think he’s the best thing i found on my f1 stalkfest

charles_leclerc: well well well, i’m charles

olliebearman: NO?

kimiantonelli: ollie you gotta let her have something!

olliebearman: but if she falls for his dorky charms that might make us incestuous ???

kimiantonelli: i don’t know what that word means

olliebearman: my dad, dating your sister?

kimiantonelli: @charles_leclerc you have to disown ollie now

charles_leclerc: okay, if i do that does that mean i can take y/n on a date

yourusername: DO IT NOW PLEASE

yourusername: woah! i mean, i’ll have to check my calendar

yourbff: she’s free, the lanky one was right, she doesn’t have many friends.

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, kimiantonelli and 1,209,457 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: lost a son and won a date. congrats on the promotion oscar!

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user19: we are moving so fucking fast

user20: well it’s on theme…

user21: well we need to go from rb19 to that fucking aston martin

yourusername: as far as first dates go … well i didn’t think we’d be babysitting a 23-year-old

charles_leclerc: he’s fragile right now

yourusername: and he needed his emotional support not-boyfriend there as well?

yourusername: and that emotional support not-boyfriend needed to bring his friend who brought his maybe-boyfriend who brought his ‘surrogate brother’ which is MY BROTHER?

charles_leclerc: i’m sorry?

yourusername: i’m starting to think attachment issues and homosexual tension is just part of the job description to work in formula one

alexalbon: i don’t think you’re wrong on that

charles_leclerc: honestly i did plan for just a romantic dinner but things came up!

oscarpiastri: well i’m kind of sorry for crashing your date but as previously stated i was in a crisis…

yourusername: you did cry… but i thought that was just to get charles to get you dessert?

oscarpiastri: you can’t prove that…

oscarpiastri: ALSO why are you just coming for me when the others crashed and without a good reason like me?

yourusername: true ….

landonorris: i was taken by oscar !!!!! not my fault

yourusername: you made me move from my seat across from charles because you didn’t ‘like the lighting’?

landonorris: well that was very kind of you

charles_leclerc: you basically sat on her until she moved

landonorris: well maybe you should have stood up for your date!

georgerussell63: considering how badly lando is digging his grave, i’ll just say sorry and that i wasn’t completely aware it was a date

yourusername: how was it not very obvious? we were at a CANDLE LIT DINNER WITH A TWO PERSON TABLE YOU DRAGGED OVER A TABLE TO SIT WITH US

alexalbon: in our defence we were only going to escort kimi there but the curiosity got too much…

yourusername: are you just attaching to kimi because i’m not going to get annoyed at him

alexalbon: …….. um no?

kimiantonelli: y/n he brought me dessert and a funky little drink - MARRY HIM

yourusername: that’s a little fast buddy

charles_leclerc: so you wouldn’t marry me?

yourusername: take me on another date, just me, and we’ll see

user22: she’s stronger than me i would’ve proposed right here right now

user23: nothing more 2025 than an instagram comment proposal

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, olliebearman and 23,091 others

tagged: kimiantonelli & charles_leclerc

yourusername: so who was going to tell me this f1 shit was this crazy?

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user24: actually thinking about it, this girl must be having such intense emotional whiplash

user25: legit because what do you mean like last week she didn’t know what f1 was but now she’s related to the best rated rookie and dating (?) charles leclerc

user26: when will these situations happen upon me

charles_leclerc: did i win you over this weekend?

yourusername: maybe?

charles_leclerc: maybe?

yourusername: okay, yeah

yourusername: but you could’ve let kimi through :/

charles_leclerc: that’s kinda not the game of the game

yourusername: but he’s my brother ?

charles_leclerc: you make a compelling point…

charles_leclerc: but, amor, i wouldn’t let my own brother overtake me

yourusername: i see…

yourusername: it was worth a try sorry kimi

kimiantonelli: fear not we can try again when he’s more in love with you

yourusername: for everyone’s information: i do genuinely like charles, this ^^ is a joke !!!!!!! i understand the sanctity of formula one and that no one would genuinely let another through based on such a situation

kimiantonelli: okay miss PR AND MARKETING

yourusername: oh buddy you should see my DMs, that was necessary

charles_leclerc: what ???

yourusername: babe your fans are great but like a good 5% of them are like genuinely insane, like 51/50 level

charles_leclerc: oh yeah… i’m sorry

yourusername: oh no worries i’d be just that crazy for you

charles_leclerc: you aren’t?

yourusername: i don’t need to be, i have you don’t i?

charles_leclerc: oh hehehehhehehehe, you do

user27: WRITE THAT DOWN WRITE THAT DOWN

user28: i’m scared of her, but i need to be her

user29: you can’t be that good at making pasta and have rizz and date charles leclerc

user30: i fear y/n might actually be sniped, she’s a triple threat

oscarpiastri: do you see why i needed emotional support?

yourusername: well yes i get that now

yourusername: but please refrain from crashing dates in the future unless you have let us know promptly

oscarpiastri: i knew i’d get you on side, the leclerc family love me

oscarpiastri: @kimiantonelli watch out, i might overtake you next

kimiantonelli: i will slash your tyres, y/n will bail me out

yourusername: will i?

kimiantonelli: so you don’t love me?

olliebearman: I TOLD YOU SHE WAS NO GOOD

yourusername: first of all, ollie - i thought i’d managed to get you on side with my offering of pasta. second, i love you the most on the grid kimi, i just do not have the disposable cash of a formula one driver

kimiantonelli: fine, you make a point

kimiantonelli: @charles_leclerc looks like it’s down to you now.

kimiantonelli: and you’d do anything for my sister, right?

charles_leclerc: ugh why are the rookies so crafty these days

yourusername: hmmmm?

charles_leclerc: YES I WOULD, FOR YOU

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, kimiantonelli and 1,894,500 others

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charles_leclerc: follow wherever the roots may take you, because sometimes it might lead you to the best thing ever

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user31: i mean meeting your girlfriend through her doing an ancestry test to find out she’s related to your coworker is one hell of a meet cute i’ll give them that

user32: ‘wherever the roots may take you’ okay mr leclerc when did we become a poet

user33: let’s add it to the words of wisdom

user34: the ferrari garage WISHES they could be him

kimiantonelli: well, i am pleasantly surprised with how this all unfolded, you’re definitely the best choice on the grid

yourusername: awwwww kimi thanks !!!

charles_leclerc: thanks?

olliebearman: CHARLES IS THE BEST CHOICE ON THE GRID ????

kimiantonelli: you want to date my sister? i thought you liked another antonelli?

olliebearman: oh!

olliebearman: yes!

olliebearman: … another antonelli for sure

charles_leclerc: @yourusername do i say anything

yourusername: no i want to watch ollie suffer after he’s done nothing but come for me

charles_leclerc: okay, amor

user35: this is how all men should be

user36: AGREE WITH EVERYTHING I SAY

user37: so like… where do we find them because i fear there’s only two ferrari drivers and many of us

yourusername: well i am certainly glad i followed mine

charles_leclerc: led you right to me

yourusername: wouldn’t want to be anywhere else

charles_leclerc: hehehehehehe i guess i have that effect on people

yourusername: PEOPLE?

charles_leclerc: just you xxxxx

yourusername: that’s what i thought

charles_leclerc: speaking of you… when can you come to another race?

yourusername: i’m very sorry to say babe but i do have a job

charles_leclerc: NOOOOOOOOOOO

yourusername: i know :( i don’t dream of labour

charles_leclerc: what do you dream of?

yourusername: there’s this really sexy monegasque formula one driver who has an amazing accent and the cutest little dog. he’s super determined and sounds even sexier when he’s angry on the radio or celebrating a win. you might know him?

charles_leclerc: i might…

yourusername: well you should BACK OFF because he’s MINE

charles_leclerc: yes, yes he is

user38: so like … how do we get her on drive to survive

yourusername: oh you know netflix have been calling my phone

user39: LETS GOOOOOOO

yourusername: don’t celebrate too soon, because you won’t like me when i delete all the cute footage of charles, that’s for my eyes only

user40: i would want you dead, but also real

lewishamilton: ummmmm so when can you come back @yourusername he’s being pathetic again

yourusername: he’s always pathetic that’s what i love about him

lewishamilton: but it’s particularly bad now, he’s carrying a picture of you and leo (it’s VERY badly photoshopped)

charles_leclerc: hey! joris was busy i had to make it myself

yourusername: that’s cute bby don’t listen to him

charles_leclerc: yeah leave me alone lewis

lewishamilton: what the hell, sure

fin.

note: if you couldn't tell i'm a big kimi stan LMAO

[giuli4nna]

BEEN AWAY

hamzah wants to take his time with you when he finally gets the chance. requested by this ask

a/n: thank you to all 329 of you who voted on my poll ! this one ended up winning, it’s kind of long but i hope you enjoy (: i’ll eventually post the others xoxo

“slow down,” hamzah chuckles, shaking his head in amusement as he pries your fingers away from his body.

your hands were itching to touch him all night. you wanted to pounce on him the very instant you two arrived back to your apartment, but he insisted on holding back.

you were bubbling with anticipation to see him after several months of being apart. long distance was taking a toll on your emotional state; your separation lead to countless nights of missed calls and makeup texts — apologies for being too busy to respond that day. it was frustrating, but you two always manage to push through.

not to mention, it was even more frustrating for your sexual desires.

you could only send each other so many scandalous photos and videos as a distraction before you were left lonely and desperate for the feeling of real intimacy with your boyfriend.

but — of course, it wasn’t all about sex. you were overjoyed with the fact that he sacrificed time out of his break from youtube to come and visit you.

when you opened the door to see him standing proudly outside your apartment building’s entrance; leaning against his car, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand, it was really tempting to just make him to cancel your dinner reservations and spend the whole evening in bed with him instead.

after showering you in kisses and compliments he treated you to a lengthy date at your favorite restaurant. of course you loved getting to spend time with him in person after being apart for so long.

except — hamzah really dragged it out.

“hamzah,” you’d groaned. “we’ve talked about everything possible and we finished dessert. don’t you think it’s time to go back home?”

“oh, c’mon. i’m just enjoying the first date we’ve had in months. now — this is important, if you were ice cream, what flavor would you be?” he smiled, adding on another silly question to the prolonged conversation.

even when the both of you were finally stumbling in through your door, he wasn’t quick to give in.

it was frustrating, to say the least. you’re not some sort of sex-crazed freak, but you’re on the verge of acting like one.

you had spent the last few months pining over him, and now that he’s within your reach, your top priority is to memorize every inch of him as fast as possible — for fear that you might forget all your favorite details of his body the second that he needs to return to toronto.

you barely get the door shut before you’re on him. your hands are in his hair, your lips are crashing onto his. you’re messy, frantic.

and of course, he slows you down. his hands settle on your waist, grounding you, his lips stilling against yours.

“mmh, slow down.” he softly protests. he meets your gaze, his eyes filled with love and adoration. on the other hand, yours are shrouded in desire and lust.

“m’sorry. just missed you,” you mumble, your tone slightly guilty.

“i know,” he says gently. “let’s just go slow, okay? we have plenty of time.”

you huff. “hamzah, seriously?”

a smirk tugs at hamzah’s lips, but his eyes are soft, soaking you in like he’s memorizing you all over again. “yes, seriously. just let me take care of you.” he says, his voice dropping to an entrancingly low tone.

you practically squirm under his gaze. “why are you messin’ with me?” you ask, sounding a little bit more pathetic than you intended.

“m’not tryin’ to,” he murmurs presses a lingering kiss to your jaw, then your neck, his lips soft and slow as if he’s committing each inch of your skin to memory. “just wanna make sure i feel you. really feel you.”

he always does this. he makes everything feel like more than just desperation, more than just a fleeting moment of heat. he’s trying to make up for every second spent apart.

your breath stutters as his lips trace a slow path down your neck, enough to make you shiver. you grab fistfuls of his shirt, trying to pull him closer, but he stays steady, his control unwavering.

“you’re not being fair,” you breathe out, basically pouting at this point.

he laughs, soft and warm against your skin. “you’re not either,” he says, his hands roaming lazily up and down your sides, feeling the fabric of your dress. “you’re tryin’ to rush me. that’s not very fair.”

“but i’m only rushing ‘cause i missed you.”

“and i missed you,” he dips his head lower, lips pressing just above your collarbone as he speaks with a frustratingly unbothered tone. “that’s why i want to take my time with you.”

“hamzah, you’re so f— ah!”

whatever annoyed phrase you were about to throw at him is instantly forgotten as hamzah sweeps you off your feet, literally. in one swift movement, he’s picked you up bridal style and started carrying you toward your bedroom.

“what was that?” he taunts with a grin, nudging the door open with his foot and practically tossing you down onto your bed.

“nothin’,” you mutter, your cheeks flushing in slight embarrassment as your eagerness rises once more. you wonder if he’s finally going to do something, anything.

you watch him, waiting for him to move first. to shove you back, to climb on top of you, to finally let go of all his patience and take what’s his.

he doesn’t.

instead, he stands between your legs, his hands coming to rest on your thighs, warm and steady. his thumbs move in slow, lazy circles, like he has all the time in the world.

he doesn’t seem to notice how loud your body is internally screaming with need for him right now.

you exhale sharply, tilting your head back with a groan. “i think you’re killing me.”

hamzah laughs, quiet and deep. “you’ll be just fine.”

his fingers trace up, dragging along the hem of your dress, and you suck in a breath as he pushes it up — inch by inch, nothing hurried, nothing rushed.

every movement is deliberate, like he’s unwrapping something precious. and in his eyes, he is. you’re the most precious thing in his life.

you lift your arms, letting him undress you, your skin prickling at the loss of warmth. he’s quickly touching you again — his palms glide over your bare shoulders, down your arms, and across your ribs, like he’s learning your body all over again.

he leans in, finally, brushing his lips against your temple, then your cheek, then the corner of your mouth. it’s soft, barely there.

“more,” you whisper.

hamzah’s lips hover over yours, close, but not close enough. “not yet.”

your hands slide up his chest, gripping at his shirt. “why?”

he smirks, kissing your jaw instead. “because i love watching you like this,” he says, quiet and teasing. “all desperate.”

your fingers tighten around the fabric of his shirt, frustration curling in your stomach like a flow of lava.

he hums in amusement, his lips trailing lower, his fingers slipping under the thin straps of your bra. he toys with the fabric but never pushes further.

your breath catches in your throat when his mouth finally moves lower, leaving a warm path over your chest and your stomach. his hands ground you, steadying you against the mattress as you arch instinctively toward him.

just when you think he’s about to break, about to finally give in, he slows down again. his lips press soft kisses along the inside of your thigh, his fingers tracing idle patterns against your skin.

you whimper, tugging at his shirt in frustration. “hamzah, please.”

his grip on your hips tightens at the sound of your voice, and you don’t miss the way his breath stutters — like he’s just as affected by all this restraint as you are. his willpower is just now beginning to fade. yours is long gone.

“say that again,” he murmurs, his voice thick.

you swallow hard, meeting his gaze. his eyes are dark and burning with something you can’t quite put your finger on. your fingers reach down to cup his face, your thumb brushing over his lower lip.

“please?” you whisper again, softer this time.

something snaps.

with one fluid motion, he tugs his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere behind him, his hands quickly returning to your skin.

there’s no hesitation anymore, no patience. his lips crash on yours with pure heat and hunger, his body pressing flush against yours.

his hands roam, no longer teasing, no longer holding back. his fingers trace every curve, every dip of your body. it’s suddenly urgent, dripping with the kind of hunger that’s been building since the second you two walked through the door.

you gasp against his lips as he presses you further into the mattress, his weight settling over you in a way that makes you feel impossibly small beneath him. his hands slide beneath your thighs, spreading you, positioning you.

you can feel the way his control is slipping between his fingers like sand. you can feel it in the way his body moves against yours.

“hamzah,” you breathe, your voice breaking around the sound of his name.

he groans, low and rough, like hearing you say his name just like that is his undoing. his forehead presses against yours, his breath is warm and uneven as he rolls his hips against you, slowly and purposefully.

you moan, your fingers clawing at his back, pulling him closer. “i need—”

“i know,” he cuts in, voice thick with want. his lips brush against your cheek, then your jaw, his hands gripping your thighs tighter. “i’ve got you, baby.”

eventually, somewhere between messy kisses and frantic touches, your clothes have been shed along with his and hamzah’s body is now hovering over yours on the bed, heat radiating between the two of you.

you’re so deeply lost in him that any frustration has long since evaporated. all that remains is the intoxicating pulse of anticipation as he aligns himself with your entrance and finally — finally, he shifts, pushing forward, sinking his cock into you in one smooth, perfect motion.

your breath stutters, your body arching into him as he fills the space between you completely. a deep, guttural sound rumbles from his chest as he stills for a second, his grip on your hip tightening dangerously.

he exhales sharply, pressing his forehead to yours. “you feel…” he trails off, shaking his head like he can’t even find the words.

instead of trying to complete his thought, he tilts your chin up, capturing your lips in a slow, devastating kiss as he finally starts to move. he presses deeper, slower, letting you — no, making you feel every inch of him. he groans at the sensation of your nails in his back, his body tensing up as if he’s barely holding himself together.

“hamzah,” you whine, your voice shaky and overwhelmed.

he shudders, his hands flexing against your waist before sliding upwards, cradling your face between his palms.

“look at me,” he murmurs.

the second your gazes lock, something in you shatters. your body? your mind? your soul, maybe?

there’s a melting pot of drastically different emotions swirling behind his eyes, you can’t even begin to describe the way it makes you feel.

“you’re everything,” he whispers, his voice rough, like he’s speaking the words without even thinking. “you know that, right?”

you nod, unable to speak, not with the way length is dragging in and out of you too slowly. he tilts your chin up, ghosting his lips over yours so softly it makes your stomach twist.

“say it,” he demands in a murmur against your mouth. he’s trying to break you, you think.

you fingers slide into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. “i know.” your voice is barely above a whisper.

“there’s my girl. so good for me, aren’t you?” he says with a small smirk, knowing the effect his words have on you. “can’t believe i spent so long without you.”

his lips crashing onto yours, raw and consuming, like he’s trying to pull you into him completely.

“hamzah — more,” you choke out breathlessly against his lips, your mind melting at the slow pace he’s set.

he chuckles lowly, but doesn’t protest this time. he knows he’s got you ruined already.

his hands slide beneath your thighs, shifting you just enough to deepen the angle, and when he moves again, it’s harder, needier. he’s finally pouring himself into you fully, dropping the ‘let’s take our time’ façade.

your chest heaves as desperate moans and choked whimpers escape your throat, the way he’s now snapping his hips into you — it makes your lose all remaining composure.

your head tilts back against the pillow, overwhelmed, and hamzah’s right there with you. “that’s it,” he breathes, voice shaking. “y’sound so pretty.. god, i love you,”

he drives into you harder, deeper, his pace growing erratic. the pure hunger in his eyes matches the frenzy building between your legs, a gnawing need that has you gasping with each stroke.

“mmh.. love y— love you too..” you force out, lips trembling.

“uh-huh..” hamzah breathes, his voice rough, practically growling as he watches you fall apart beneath him. “oh — fuck, baby, you’re taking me so well,”

you whine at his words, and you can feel the heat building in your stomach, the pressure mounting with each thrust. you’re almost there, your abdomen tenses as the pressure in your tummy builds.

“please.. harder, hamzah,” you beg, barely able to form the words as your body quakes beneath him.

his lips curl into a dark smirk. he drives into you with twice the effort, setting a punishing new pace.

a low growl vibrates in his chest, pleasure surging through both of you, turning your minds to mush. the way he’s moving, the way he fills you — each thrust is making it harder to think, harder to breathe.

“fuck,” you choke out, your voice cracking with need as you meet his pace. his strokes are relentless now, the pressure building at an unbearable pace. you can barely hold on, the sound of your frantic breaths and his skin slapping against yours filling the room.

hamzah watches your face, your lips parted in a silent plea, your chest rising and falling in desperation. he only moves faster, harder, like he’s chasing something just beyond reach. “c’mon,” he grunts. “get there for me, baby.”

you can feel every inch of him, the way he fills you completely, his every move making your body tremble, your senses on fire.

your legs tremble as you reach the edge, the world around you blurring. “hamzah, i — m’there, feels so..” you gasp, desperate for release, your voice raw with need.

he nods erratically, his hips stuttering as his sanity slips along with yours. “yeah, give it to me,” he moans, his voice rough yet on the verge of being whiny. “finish f’me, be the good girl that you are.”

with a final, deep thrust, everything breaks. your body convulses, and the pleasure washes over you in waves, almost too much to handle. your moans spill out breathlessly along other broken, incomplete sentences as you shudder beneath him, lost in the intensity of the moment.

hamzah closely follows you over the edge, his body shaking as he finally releases, spilling into you with a low, guttural growl. his body collapses on top of yours, both of you trying to catch your breath, the room now filled with nothing but the sound of your rapid breathing and the faint hum of your heartbeat in the aftermath.

for a long time, neither of you speak. there’s really nothing else to be said. your breathing falls in sync.

the heat between you is still buzzing, alive. his fingers trace lazy patterns along your hip, his lips brushing against your temple. his small, absentminded gestures feel just as intimate as everything else that just happened.

“you okay?” he eventually murmurs, voice still thick with exhaustion.

you nod weakly, your fingers threading through his hair, nails dragging gently along his scalp. “mhmm.”

he smirks, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your shoulder before finally shifting, rolling onto his side but keeping you close, tangled up in him. “told you, going slow would be worth it.”

you scoff and roll your eyes, but there’s no real bite to it. he just grins in response, knowing he’s right.

and he is right, he really is. it wouldn’t have been the same if he didn’t make you wait. after not seeing each other for so long, rushing — despite how badly you wanted to — wouldn’t have been nearly as romantic or special.

you huff, tucking yourself closer against his chest. hamzah’s arms tighten around you instinctively, like holding you is second nature, no matter how long you spend without each other.

xoxo giulia

[baniisharur0tte]

Thin Walls ☆

you and Suguru Geto are roommates!!! but long nights lead to wandering eyes... ;)

word count: 4.1k <3

content: SMUT!!!! 18+!!!! Creep!Geto perving on u, mention of: hair pulling, P->V, oral (F!Receiving). mild breath play (M!Self-Inflicted)

authors note: i've been working on a longer fic for geto but i couldn't allow him to continue being neglected on my blog!!!! i love my baby girl cult leader <3333

(inspired by this song)

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

you and geto have been roommates for a few months now. you both moved to the other side of the city around the same time, and your mutual friend suggested you to each other when they heard about your respective roommate hunts.

it was nice, you were both tidy quiet people. you cooked for each other, helped each other with chores, you both left the bathroom neat after showers, and you each had a cat that got along well.

but the walls were thin.

a little over a month after you moved in together, the last of your respective unpacking completed, suguru was in the living room quietly watching tv before bed. his long frame sprawled out across the couch, a soft black long sleeve and grey sweatpants hanging off his lean muscular body. you called it an early night after your shower, a loose tee shirt and fuzzy shorts on as you stepped out of the bathroom.

"i'm headed in for the night, i'll see you tomorrow! would you be able to feed the cats dinner?"

"of course, yeah. sleep well!" he replied smiling slightly, shifting in his seat giving you a quick glance up and down.

not long after you shut the door behind you, he quickly put together why you were in such a hurry to get under the covers.

through the thin walls of your apartment, he heard your small hushed whimpers and moans as you pleasured yourself.

his spine stiffened as he sat up, unsure if he was hearing correctly.

she's not....

his cock hardening in his pants at the sound, he searched around the couch for the remote to turn down the volume.

a curiosity he had nurtured was raring it's head, and he was too weak to ignore it.

the first day here he noticed how thin the walls were, you had been in your bedroom on the phone, sitting amongst the clutter, trash bags scrawled with clothes and winter blankets on the front, brown cardboard boxes stacked in all corners of the room.

sorting through some nick nacks, you spoke to your friend about the moving process.

'"...and one of the movers chipped the corner off my dresser. it's brand new! i only got it a few months ago. ugh. but it's fine, everything is in one piece.... geto? yeah he's really nice, we got coffee and breakfast a few times before we signed the lease, he's great.... i mean, he just looks like a guy. you can meet him when you come over after the house is settled, but he's got long black hair and he's tall.... oh my god why would you ask me that???..... i never thought about it.. no!!!... i mean, i guess.... okay fine, yes, he's very hot. is that what you wanted to hear???... no you cannot sleep with my roommate, gross!!!! i have to go, i have to make lunch soon and unpack enough to sleep here tonight.... yeah, i'll talk to you tomorrow. bye!"

with a huff you tossed your phone over your shoulder and onto your bed, muttering to yourself ..is he hot... god, what kind of question is that?..

from the kitchen, suguru was unpacking his cookware and dishes and neatly organizing them in the cupboards. hearing your conversation, he smiled to himself and laughed.

you aren't alone in that.

his friends had been asking him about you, curious about his new roommate. "what's her name?" "what does she look like?" "is she hot?" "does she have hot friends?"

as annoying as it was, he couldn't pretend he wasn't attracted to you. when you first met at the diner to discuss potential living arrangements, the first thing he notices was your smile. bright and warm, you were inviting off the bat.

next was your eyes. the way you looked up at him as he stood over you approaching the table to greet you, they widened as you drank in his height. he found it endearing if not enticing to see your shock at his build.

the curve of your neck, the dip of your collarbones, the way your hair fell around your face.

you were gorgeous.

and it got so much worse as the weeks passed, the happenstance of intimacy you develop as you live with someone only continued to unfurl your beauty to him.

wet hair as you leave the bathroom after a shower, baggy pajamas ghosting around your frame in the morning, the passing interactions as you left the house to go out with your friends, tight shirts and sparkly earrings catching his eye as you put on your shoes and cheerfully say goodbye before leaving.

and the walls were so painfully thin.

considering the rent price, he found it particularly annoying. unsure if you had noticed, he was very careful to keep himself quiet as he touched himself, hiding in the bathroom with the shower running or waiting until you turned on your tv to fall asleep at night. the drone of a comforting show drowning out whatever huffs and soft groans escaped his lips as he pumped his cock, closing himself away in his room.

thoughts of you often crossed his mind as he pleasured himself, curiosity getting the better of him every time.

a mix between guilt and indignation swirled inside him every now and then. it was incredibly inappropriate to indulge in such lewd fantasies given the nature of your relationship, but he's allowed to think whatever he wants. the mind is a safe haven to explore all possibilities, why should he feel bad for having an interest in you?

at least that's what he told himself to wave away the sharp sting of guilt as he slowly tipped off the edge into an unsightly indulgence.

a night like any other would play to the tune of that aching lust in his chest.

on any night under your shared roof, he would find himself relaxing on the couch beside you, watching Your Show together. the gentle swish of your legs as you reposition on the couch, or the wind of you plopping yourself down next to him after getting up for a snack, wafting your perfume around him.

utterly intoxicating, stirring his stomach.

when you would scurry off to bed, he would follow your lead shortly after. tying up his hair in the mirror, an innocuous flush on his face, almost imperceptible to anyone but himself as he stares back into the mirror. as he pulls his hair up, his hands run excessively over his neck and shoulders, pulling his hair a bit too hard as he puts it up. a silent scream tearing inside him, subconsciously circling the thought of you running your hands along his skin. your hands gathering his hair, pulling it hard as he pleases you, painting artwork with his tongue. every blink brings forth a flashing image of your flushed sweaty face under him, scratching his back, snaking your hands into his hair and pulling tight, a tangled mess of limbs and heartbeats.

his low eyes stare back at him, his pulse hot in his neck. splashing cold water on himself, washing his face trying to chase away the tension he feels.

leaning into the counter brushing his teeth, the air soft and minty around him, a sparkling rainbow of bubbles.

padding into his room, he would strip of his clothes to change into loose pajama pants. the act of undressing would dance around his chest, the haunt of your fingers hooking under his shirt to strip him bare and take him hungrily. like a ravenous animal, gouging chunks out of a rich cake and licking the frosting off your fingers.

his cock stiff and begging for attention as he stood naked in the looming darkness of his room, a palpable solitude in the air.

across from him a mirror stood, he turned without thinking to meet his own gaze. his taut, towering frame in the glow of the moonlight spilling over him through the gaps in the curtains, he wondered to himself.

how would you look pressed against me in my mirror?

is there anything inside you begging to feel my skin?

can you hear what i'm thinking? would you like it if you could?

sighing and slipping into his pajama pants, he crawls into bed. already groping himself feverishly, he palmed his cock around through his pants.

rolling your name around in his mind, curious how it would taste saying it in the heat and throws of pleasure.

as if you were a spectre passing through the walls, he was flooded with broken bits and pieces of fantasies of you spurred on by the casual passings of every day life.

watching you stand at the kitchen counter cutting fruit, curious about what a fistful of your hair would feel like in his hand as he bent you over the cold granite, hunching down with you pressing his chest to your back and his cock to your ass as he whispered filthy things in your ear. i want to fucking tear you apart.

the words i'm gonna go take a shower, do you need the bathroom? were more than enough for him at times. conjuring thoughts about you lathering your body in suds, your face tipped up to the water, the gentle curve of your neck exposed, curious about what it would feel like to have the hot water hit his back as he pinned you to the wall, dropping to his knees to eat your pussy, your slick wet skin under his fingers as he dug his nails into the plush of your thighs and the fat of your ass.

once, he even caught sight of you quickly scurrying from the bathroom to your bedroom, clearly having forgotten a towel. he pretended not to notice as to not embarrass you, appearing deeply enthralled in the book he was reading on the couch, a cool air around him as he lounged effortlessly on the arm of the couch. careful not to tip his head up as his eyes followed you to your room, your arm clutching your breasts as you hurried quickly just across the hall to hide in your room to dry off and change clothes.

but for how cool his demeanor remained, the hot buzz of lust ran down the back of his neck. though it was only for a moment, he learned so much about the curve of your waist, the heave of your chest, the valley your spine leaves down your back. such curiosity he has for you, the deep yearn to learn more about you crashed into him hard as laid in his bed stroking himself though his clothes. he hooked his cock over the edge of his pants, spitting into his hand and coating himself in his own slick.

dragging long strokes over his twitching cock, his hand flies up to his face to quiet himself. dragging his palm from his forehead down the side of his face to bite his knuckle, the weight of his own heavy hands spurred him on. to be touched even by himself was enough to warrant a hitched groan tripping in his throat, muffled by his hand.

his long fingers made to be wielded by an artist wrapped tight around himself as he wracked with pleasure, that curiosity lighting a brutal fever under his skin.

your wet pussy dripping down his chin, soft lips on his neck as your tongue drags stripes up and down his skin, biting his ear and moaning his name. how would i sound in your mouth?

his name spilling from your lips as if it were a crying plea to a god he's never known, he would give you everything his body could offer to bring you pleasure. anything you asked for, anything you could need he would do to make you cum. questions and answers, movement and understanding, reacting in tandem with each other.

information, information.

he needed it, he craved it.

anything he could get from you to learn about what would make you cry tears of pleasure for him, he would dedicate himself to it.

his pace quickening, careful to keep his shuddering breaths low and shallow as to not arouse suspicion through the ever-exposing framework of your shared home.

the thought of watching his cock disappear inside you, your pussy swelling around him, accommodating his length so generously sent a chill down his spine, his back clinging to the silky sheets as sweat condenses on his skin.

your body swallowing him so greedily, milking his cock for cum like a feral animal desperate to take all of him. he would give you everything he had until he was drained and spent, pumping you deeply with his cum just as he hoped you would beg him for.

hissing and panting, his legs tensing and shaking as he approached his orgasm, the vile fantasy of him fucking you into his mattress pouring into his mind. the roll of his hips hitting everything you need, your body sucking him in as you clench around him, cumming down the length of his cock leaving a creamy ring of your cum at his base, matting down his dark happy trail.

he choked back a deep guttural groan as he came onto his stomach, holding his breath to ensure his silence as he offered up his pleasure in your name.

his head swimming from the lack of oxygen and the crushing wave of dense ecstasy washing over him, he laid still for a few minutes, his chest heaving as he came down from his high.

but all the stolen glances and hushed stimulation didn't alleviate his tension.

on a night like tonight, when his curiosity couldn't be helped, searching for the tv remote in the couch to get a better ear for the sound of your secluded pleasure, he was quickly worked into a frenzy inside. finding the remote and quickly turning the tv down to near-mute, he slowly approached the hallway hosting your bedrooms.

the door shut tight, something uncommon for you. that should've been his first clue.

your cat liked to wander in and out throughout the night, a shut door like this would warrant incessant yowling and indignant complaints from her until you dragged yourself out of bed to let her in.

leaning against the corner, your door just over his shoulder, the sound grew clearer.

the muffled moans and panting coming from behind the flimsy, feeble door poured into his ears. his cock pressing angrily against the fabric of his pants, he tipped his head back against the wall and shut his eyes. drinking in the utter music you made.

it was better than he even imagined.

he thought about all the ways you could be pleasing yourself. on your back, on your stomach, riding your pillow, a vibrator perhaps, or maybe just your fingers or your palm. maybe you were plunging a thick dildo into your aching pussy, fucking yourself imagining it was his cock pushing a bulge out in your stomach.

how he craved to know what you looked like pleasuring yourself.

the fresh idea of you being completely unaware as he watched you through a crack in your door was exhilarating. it was better than if you were willing to do it in front of him. maybe it was the corrupt and vile nature of perversely spying on his friend as she made herself cum for him over and over again.

or perhaps it was because there was no audience for you to perform for, no need to make sure you looked pretty as you brought yourself up to your high. the rawness and vulnerability of an act under no one's gaze was the most authentic pleasure you could receive.

imagine all i could learn about her if i could only see..

he squeezed his cock though his pants, weighing the risk of touching himself now or holding onto the memory of your voice dripping from the doorframe.

with a small 'aah!' falling from your lips, he made his choice.

there's no way i can wait.

he quickly and quietly unbuckled his belt and shuffled his pants down slightly, his hard cock springing free nearly hitting him in the stomach.

he spit into his hand and began quietly and furiously fucking his fist around his cock, holding his breath and quietly and shallowly releasing it as to absolutely ensure he was silent.

he slowly crept around the corner, the side of his face pressed into the doorframe, mere inches from your door as he pleasured himself with you.

what we're doing in there?

will you show me?

would you leave your door open for me someday?

he was quickly approaching his orgasm, the rush of adrenaline from doing something so disgusting and hearing your siren's voice were guaranteeing he wouldn't last long. his pace quickened and so did his breath, shallow quiet pants escaped him between staggered bouts of holding his breath. his head swimming and fuzzy, he heard you quietly call out his name.

"hmm... suguru~" you mewled quietly to yourself, your moaning and panting becoming faster, obvious you were close yourself.

his eyes widened and his other hand flew up from the doorframe to his mouth, clamping it shut as he growled quietly to himself.

there is no fucking way she just said my name.

overwhelmed by the notion that you were touching yourself to the thought of him, he was about to cum as he heard you quietly call out for him again, breathy cries indicating you were cumming all alone in the heat of your bed.

he came in his hand, trying desperately to catch it all before any spilled onto the ground, his knees slightly buckling and heaving shaky quiet pants into his palm as he experienced your cries for him, an utter exorcism ripping him apart.

he quickly backed away from your door, running to the bathroom to clean up the mess you made of him.

that night, as he laid in bed tossing and turning- ruminating over everything he heard from you, he decided he was going to force your hand. if you wanted him so badly, he was going to make it impossible to deny yourself indulging in him.

for the next few weeks, he essentially stopped wearing shirts altogether. the only time you saw him fully dressed was around the evening, often wearing a loose sweater or a baggy tee shirt- but the mornings were no longer safe for someone with such wandering eyes like yourself. shirtless with no underwear and loose pants hanging low on his pointed hips, his hair cascading over his shoulders, casually walking out of the bathroom in a towel loosely hanging from his hips, stopping in the entry of the living room to make an insignificant comment about how we are running out of hand soap, can you remind me tomorrow at the store? an obvious excuse on his end for you to run your eyes up and down his body, his hair dripping water down his chest and taut stomach, shiny soft skin and rippling muscles in his arms. the veins on the back of his slender hands drawing your eye down to wear he loosely held his towel, a tuft of black just barely peaking over the top, his long cock gently leaving an impression against the plush fabric.

he left very little to your imagination, torturing you for weeks.

watching your wide eyes pour over him that first morning as you stepped out into the kitchen, rubbing your eyes and yawning as you were met with the sight of his toned back as he cooked you both breakfast was much more satisfying than the meal you shared that morning.

his long lean frame towering over the stove, music softly playing from radio in the living room as he shuffled scrambled eggs around in the pan in front of him, his long glossy hair curtaining down his back, his slender waist and loose pants flowing around him.

you were immediately just as flushed and hot in the face now as you were when you touched yourself last night before bed.

"good morning. sleep well last night?" he said coolly, looking over his shoulder at you smiling. his eyes were low and hid a darkness behind them.

you stammer out a feeble "yeah, i did. you?" still reeling from the sight you found in the kitchen.

"i did, yes. although i admit not as well as i would've liked. i should've gone to bed early like you, i had trouble falling asleep for a bit. you want tea? i'm making some in a minute."

heat waves over your face as he acknowledges how early you scurried off to bed. he always noticed the little things about you, making you a bit self-conscious in moments like this.

you sat and ate breakfast together on the couch as he continued to neglect putting on anything even resembling a shirt.

for those few weeks, he spent his time at the house preying on your helpless inability to tear your eyes off him. standing just a little too close sometimes, his cologne would waft around you as you were enthralled in his presence.

and then he'd step away as if it was nothing. he would take note of the small movement you made almost as if to follow him, stopping yourself.

his hand would linger on yours for just a moment too long as you passed him clean cups to put away, doing the dishes together.

and then his touch would leave you as if he didn't notice. he would take note of how your breath would hitch in your throat as his fingers brushed yours.

he began undressing on his way to the bathroom to shower rather than behind the privacy of a closed door. hooking his fingers under the hem of his shirt, stretching his long arms carefully up over his head to relish in the feeling of your eyes on him as he walked down the hall to the bathroom. every now and then, he would glance over his shoulder to soak in your reaction. a visible hum around you as you stared like a deer in headlights. once, he tossed a cool smile at you as if he were an aloof cat, unaware of what he was doing. as soon as the door shut, you ran flustered and red to your room to pleasure yourself for the entire duration you heard the shower running.

but unaware he was not, and these calculated efforts were paying off in tenfold for him.

your early bedtime became a routine in the household, with the added side effect of the cats now begging him exclusively for dinner.

shortly after you would hurriedly shut the door behind you, he would abandon his book or his movie and slink around the corner to drink in the noises you made as you touched yourself to the thought of him. unable to be as quiet as you once were, a feverish infection of the mind possessing you forcing you to cry out with wavering control. he would go from presenting the affectation of boredom or as if he was ill-attentive to your habits- to a ravenous creep lurking around your bedroom door at the click of the latch.

as if he were a vampire stalking his prey in a frenzied bloodlust, he would lean his face on the same spot on the doorframe every night learning the way you sounded when you pleased yourself. some nights he would milk his cock in time with you, others he would stand still, silently drinking in every noise you made. he quickly picked up on your cues, understanding what pleasure meant to you. he would relish in fantasies fueled by his depraved habit- bending you over the couch as he worked his length into your eager, drooling pussy. digging his fingers into your thighs pushing them into his face as you shook and clenched around his tongue. resting his hand over your stomach as he rolled his hips, feeling his cock bulge against the wall of your stomach. fucking you slow and deep, watching your eyes intently. endless possibilities, so many ways he could make you cum for him in the secret of night, behind the locked doors of your home. his nasty habit of nightstalking devolved into an anxiously anticipated ritual he would wait for from the moment he woke up every day. like clockwork he could time when you would cum based on how you sounded, how much you said his name, the pitch and lilt in your breathy voice reaching out to him from under the door.

until one night, the door was cracked.

your was voice ringing out to him clearer than ever before, a curious discovery. a newfound feeling of nerves stirred in his stomach. he slowly rounded the corner to find he could see a sliver of your figure writhing in your bed, your chest heaving and the blankets carelessly discarded in a heap on the floor beside the bed.

running your hand through your hair, down your body, over your chest and thighs as the other drew quick circles over your clit. he watched you in awe, utterly entranced.

wide eyes and a cold chill running its blade down his back, he was practically shaking with anticipation. already pumping his cock in his hand, his eyebrows knitted together and his jaw slack as he silently watched you whisper his name to yourself.

your voice growing louder with every pant, you cried out for him again. he was breaking down under the weight of your lust for him, a burden he wished more than anything to relieve you of. consumed with desire to get closer, he was frenzied trying to come up with anything that could get him inside. you called out for him once more, a desperate 'suguru, please~' making his eyes roll back and a small grunt to get stuck in his chest.

his mind whirring, he came up with something particularly perverse.

if she's calling for me, why wouldnt i come running?

he rounded back down the hall into the looming darkness of the living room, hiking his pants back up and painfully shoving his hard cock into them. smoothing his shirt down, his heart pounding, he turned back towards your door.

he slowly pushed it open with the tips of his fingers, unfurling the sight of your flushed face and heaving chest for him to admire- your eyes shut tightly as you rolled your nipple between your fingers. your body rocking against your hand, the steady roll of your hips hypnotizing him. the thick tension and heavy heat in the room was reaching the point of snapping at any moment.

with the creak of your door, his voice poured into the room in a low sultry purr, "you called for me, you need some help?"

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

(authors note#2- if heaven exists it's in a dark room behind a locked door with suguru geto. when i die, take me to him.)

[powderpinkprincess]

Irresponsible [Lando Norris x reader]

description: Lando has an irrational fear of a cab driver kidnapping you once- Or something like that.

Lando usually didn’t mind when you went out without him. You had your own group of friends in Monaco, and as long as your best friend, Sasha was there, Lando didn’t worry much. He really liked her because she was nice and responsible even when she drank, keeping you away from trouble.

What he did mind, however, was you taking a cab home alone. It didn’t matter how safe Monaco was or how many times you had done it before - just the thought of you, possibly even drunk, sitting in the back of a stranger’s car made his stomach twist. What if the driver wasn’t who they seemed? What if something happened, and he wasn’t there? Lando knew it was probably just in his head, but that didn’t make it any easier. It was the one thing he hated about your nights out - waiting for that text saying you were home safe, hoping that nothing had gone wrong.

At least now that Lando finally had a whole week at home, he didn’t have to worry about that, and he could just pick you up himself. Besides training, he still had tons of work to do on his laptop, so he was busy, but he was available.

He didn’t mute his phone when he went to sleep as he usually did, so you could reach him whenever you wanted. However, when you left you noticed how exhausted he looked, so you didn’t want to bother him. At 2 a.m. you were more than ready to leave, and that was when you noticed your credit card was almost empty. You had two credit cards, one to use in your day-to-day life and another one for clubbing.

You didn’t want to wake Lando, but eventually you had to. He was fast asleep when his phone rang. He picked it up half asleep when he saw your number come up. Sitting up, he wiped his eyes and yawned. “Hey babe, is everything okay?”

 “Uhm, hi, sorry to wake you up,” you started.

 “No, no,” he said, slowly coming to his senses. “It's okay,” he added with a yawn. “What is it, love?”

 “Could you maybe send some money to my blue card?” you sighed. Lando knew exactly what you meant as he used the same method when going out. If the card got lost or stolen, it was a much better situation when it was not the majority of your money disappearing.

Lando stifled a sigh as he turned the light on. “Why, did you forget to transfer money again?” he asked while he opened the bank app on his phone. Lando was a bit annoyed at you for being careless with your stuff again, but he sent some money to you anyway.

 “I’m sorry,” you replied, noticing the tone of his voice immediately.

 “Don’t apologize, just try to pay attention the next time.” He suppressed another yawn. “Are you guys going to stay out?”

 “No, I was just about to call a cab,” you explained.

He was silent for a minute, then you could hear the soft ruffling of the sheets as he moved. “Why didn’t you call me before? I would have come to pick you up.”

 “Cause you needed rest,” you mumbled. You knew he didn’t like it when you took a cab, so you expected the question.

 “Well, I'm up now, so I don't think it matters anyway,” Lando said with a hint of sarcasm. “I would have come to pick you up at any time for you, love, you know that,” he added, trying to sound sincere. He didn't want to pick a fight now that he was awake, but it was a bit of a sensitive spot for him. Lando didn't like that you would just jump into a car with a stranger. He worried about your safety more than you realised.

 “I know,” you sighed.

There was a brief silence on the line. Lando knew you were being considerate by not calling him earlier, yet he couldn't help but feel a bit frustrated. He wanted to voice that but held back, knowing it would lead to a pointless argument. “Where are you, anyway?” he asked instead.

  “At Aurora. We're still inside at the smoking area cause it's quiet and warm here,” you added. “Why?”

 “Just wondering. Aurora is on the other side of the city, and at this time of night I'd rather not send you in a random cab,” Lando replied, his concern growing. “Are the girls with you?”

 “Yes, they are. But you really don't need to come,” you pushed.

Lando knew you were trying to not bother him, but he also knew that this was pointless to argue about. Besides, he would be restless if he just stayed home now that he was up. “I'm coming,” he said with a finality in his voice.

 “Baby…” you sighed.

Lando was already getting up and putting on some clothes. “Stop protesting, Y/N. Half of the cab drivers barely even speak English here,” he retorted. “You’ve been drinking, you’re wearing that small dress, and you’re- You’re not going to call a cab. Just stay inside. I’ll be there soon.”

For a moment, you didn’t know how to reply. You could hear the frustration in his voice, but it somehow warmed your heart. “I love you,” you spoke eventually.

 “Love you, too. See you at the club,” he added before he ended the call.

He didn’t know how to explain what he felt. It was just that- So many things in his life could be taken away within a second. And he barely had anything stable to hold onto, considering how much he had to travel. He knew what people and social media were capable of, and he was just so afraid of you getting hurt. You’ve been dating over three years now, so his followers knew who you were, and he was also aware that people didn’t always have good intentions.

Twenty minutes later he was parked outside the club. He called you, so you quickly grabbed your belongings, hugged the girls goodbye, and then hurried to his car. You sat in and closed the door behind yourself.

Lando winced at the sound. “Hey, careful.”

He had taught you not to smack the door of his car, but apparently you were too drunk to notice or remember.

 “Oh, sorry,” you bit on your lip when you realized what you had done.

You checked your phone to see the time, and that was when you saw the notification of your bank application. You frowned and checked your account. Lando sent you money despite that he decided to pick you up, but you only expected an amount that would cover a cab ride. You huffed when you saw the numbers.

 “Baby, I wanted to call a cab for a ride home, not to buy the driver with the car,” you glanced at your boyfriend, who had just started the engine.

 “Consider it as a precaution,” he replied, his eyes never leaving the road as he started driving. He was still a little frustrated. “Better safe than sorry. And you know I don’t like you being in cabs with strangers at night.”

 “I know, but this is extensive. Did you think I’d have to pay a ransom for myself or what?” you sighed. “You know I have my own money, right? Just not on this card.”

 “I know,” he said, with a hint of annoyance in his voice. “But sometimes you can be irresponsible when it comes to money, like leaving your card behind or not checking your balance,” he said, recalling past incidents.

You just hummed. That was right.

 “Besides, this most likely wouldn’t be enough for a ransom,” he added.

 “I was just joking,” you mumbled. He wasn’t in a funny mood tonight.

 “I know,” Lando sighed. He stepped on the break at a red light and looked at you. “Y/N, I don’t even know how to approach this anymore. I’m not saying that I would pick you up because I’m trying to be nice. I’m saying it because I’d much rather pick you up by myself than wait until some creep kidnaps you. I know, you’re a strong, independent woman, but can’t you just let me have it my way for once?”

Your eyes widened slightly at his words. “No one is going to kidnap me.”

 “Y/N,” he pressed. “Please. Seriously.”

You couldn’t force back a small smile. Even though he could annoy you to death by being overprotective sometimes, he was still very cute.

 “Okay,” you replied, shrugging your shoulders. Meanwhile, the light has turned green again.

 “Okay?” he glanced at you again quickly before looking back at the road.

 “Yeah. Okay.”

His shoulders visibly relaxed and he sent you a small smile back. Oh, how you loved him.

[kunareads]

if i believe you | chapter four

draw me after you

clan head!satoru x reader

prev / next series masterlist / full masterlist

wc: 3.4k

content: i ended up splitting this chapter because i think this amount of fluff needs room to breathe (and reader deserves good things and happy feelings). please enjoy because next chapter will not be nearly as happy and soft as this!

INTERACT HERE FOR TAGLIST!

18+ please <3

your garden feels wild in the evening. leaves spill over a stone pathway as vines climb the trellises, threading through gaps like they want to swallow them whole.

you’re in the grass, legs folded beneath you, hands resting in your lap. satoru found you out here not too long ago and sat across from you, his back pressed against the trunk of a tree, limbs sprawled out and occupying as much space as possible.

“what’s your favorite time of day?” he asks, breaking the quiet.

you glance at him, hesitant, but his expression is expectant. “late at night.”

he quirks a brow in amusement. “didn’t take you for a troublemaker.”

you shake your head lightly. “i just like when everything’s quiet.”

there’s a pause, and then he says, “your turn,” with a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “i asked you a question, now you get to ask me one.”

you hesitate. you certainly have questions, but you’re not sure they fit in this conversation. so you go with the safest one you can find.

“your favorite time of day?”

“sunrise.”

that surprises you. “why?”

he shrugs, still playing with the earth. “feels like i have the whole world to myself.”

you try to picture him that way—alone at dawn, the world still sleeping. maybe it suits him. an hour or two at peace before anyone can demand anything of him.

“i think we’re opposites, then,” you say. “you like the start of things, i like the end.”

his expression softens. “guess that just means we have the whole day covered.”

you smile at that, and the conversation drifts from there. favorite snacks. the worst places you’ve slept. things you could live without forever, and the things you never want to lose.

you don’t know when it happens, but you stop measuring your words. the hesitation is still there, but it’s smaller.

“what’s something you’ve always wanted to try?” he asks.

“travel. i’ve never been anywhere.”

his brows furrow. “not even once?”

“never.”

he hums, thoughtful. “well, we have to change that.”

you glance at him, trying to gauge if he’s joking. but he’s watching you with that same softness, the words hovering like he’s offered you an invitation you’re not sure you can reach for.

“maybe.” your voice is quieter now. “what about you?” you ask.

“scuba diving.”

the response is so immediate and so unexpected that you can’t help but smile. “you don’t seem like a scuba diver.”

he grins, feigning offense. “i can’t be adventurous?”

“i think you might be enough trouble on land.”

his laugh spills out, rich and unrestrained, making your own smile widen.

the conversation shifts again, like neither of you want to linger on anything that requires too much thought. you find yourself telling him about your family. descriptions come slowly, like you’re not even sure what you’re trying to say.

your father, strict but steadfast. a leader in the only way he knew how. discipline over affection, standards over kindness. his love was earned.

your mother, obedient and devoted. loving in the way she was taught to be. her affection was careful, measured—delivered only when you met expectations and rationed to avoid spoiling you.

their approval was the closest thing to love you’ve ever really felt, and you became very good at earning it. good at keeping yourself small and quiet, at doing what you were told, at following rules so well they’d never have to doubt you.

you don’t realize how much you’re saying until you realize how much satoru is listening. it’s almost unnerving, the way he just lets you speak without steering the conversation where he wants it to go. like he’s content to let you lead, to study your words.

“i miss it, sometimes,” you admit quietly. the words feel like they’ll shatter if you say them too loud.

he doesn’t respond right away, but you can feel his attention locked onto you.

“and the parts you don’t miss?”

you go silent.

you’ve never considered it before. never even thought to split your memories into good and bad, wanted and unwanted. you don’t have an answer because you’ve never looked for one.

satoru doesn’t press. he just watches, waiting to see if you’ll find the words or if you still need time to understand it.

“i don’t think i could’ve survived in your house.” he shifts, stretching his arms behind his head. “i used to get in trouble all the time.”

“not surprising,” you reply.

he grins. “i would skip classes with my friends. sneak off, cause way too much destruction on missions—oh, and pissing off the old guys in charge. that was my specialty.”

“sounds irresponsible.”

“that was the point.”

you think he sounds kind of sad. the way he talks about it, all reckless charm and nostalgia, feels unfinished—like he’s trying not to remember something he didn’t mean to miss.

you unfold your legs, stretching them out in front of you. the air is cooling now, and you listen to the sound of the trees, let it fill the silence where words go. satoru’s gaze slides over you, something almost careful in the way he’s watching. like he’s trying to take you in without crowding you.

you swallow. “do you… miss them? your friends?”

the question feels fragile. out of place. he considers you for a moment, and you can’t tell if you’ve overstepped. but he lifts his brows like you’ve just asked him something fascinating. he’s not smiling, but he’s not frowning either.

“yeah. sometimes.” the answer is casual, but there’s rawness there. “one of them still works at the school. maybe you can meet her sometime.”

it’s quiet for a while. he shifts, his leg resting near yours. “what about you?” he asks. “what’s something you miss?”

he’s watching you now, and there’s something in his eyes that makes you feel like the truth is the only acceptable answer.

“i—” your sentence falters as you sort through the increasingly tangled mess in your head. “i miss… feeling sure of myself.”

it feels wrong when you say it. wrong but true, scraping against something raw, bleeding from some unidentified wound.

“i always knew what was expected of me,” you continue. “i knew what i was supposed to be. even if it wasn’t… easy, it made sense.”

“and now?” it’s quiet, not demanding. an invitation to admit something you’ve been trying not to acknowledge. it makes you want to keep talking.

“now…” you draw in a slow breath. “now i don’t know if i’m doing anything right.”

he’s silent for a moment. not because he doesn’t care, but because the admission hits something in him that he can’t understand.

it feels wrong to him that you’re questioning yourself at all. like you’ve been taught to doubt yourself so deeply that the smallest gesture of ease feels like rebellion. it makes him want to fix it, somehow.

“i think you’re doing fine,” he says eventually. the words are so casual, but they leave a warmth in your chest. “more than fine, actually.”

it’s not the kind of reassurance you’re used to. you glance at him, something small and shy curling in your chest. it’s not a compliment, not really. it’s just the way he says it. like a simple, sudden truth.

the coolness of the night settles in as the sky darkens. you feel more aware of the ground beneath you, the roughness of the grass, the warmth that radiates off of satoru.

“what was your favorite part of being a kid?” he asks, his voice lightening again, a lifeline out of the heaviness.

it feels safe, easier than his other questions. your fingers trace absent shapes against your lap, the motion soothing. “being outside. my mother kept a garden, and i would help her sometimes. picking herbs, planting new seeds.”

“your mother taught you to garden?” he asks.

“sort of.” you pause, the memory slipping free. “she taught me to do things properly. but i liked the parts where she wasn’t paying attention. when i could just do everything how i wanted.” it feels like too much, like you’re giving away something intimate. you look away, eyes falling to the tangled mess of greenery. “it was different, the way she did things. her garden was perfect.”

satoru follows your gaze, picking a dandelion near your foot. “and this?” he gestures to the wilderness surrounding you. “this is you doing things how you want?”

“i think so.”

his smile is soft. “good.”

something relaxes in your chest. “what about you?” you ask, trying to pull the attention away from yourself. “what was your favorite part of being a kid?”

he pauses. “getting away with murder. figuratively. mostly.”

you snort before you can stop yourself. the sound bubbles out of you like a hiccup, breaking the quiet in a way that feels almost obscene.

his laugh follows yours, pleased and unrestrained, proud of himself for bringing that out of you. “what? it was fun.”

“i’m sure.” you can’t keep the amusement of your voice. something about him, so shameless and unapologetic, makes your own hesitation feel ridiculous. he grins, and for a moment, there’s nothing between you but the hum of the garden.

but then he says, “you do that a lot,” almost to himself. you wonder if he meant to say it out loud.

“do what?” you ask, already feeling your shoulders stiffen.

“wait before you speak.” his fingers play idly with the dandelion he picked earlier. “like you’re checking to see if you’re allowed to answer.”

the words don’t hit particularly hard, but they find something tender. something you didn’t know was there until he pressed against it. “i…” you stop. inhale. “i didn’t realize i was doing that.”

“lemme guess.” his voice is low, playful, but not fully. “a lady doesn’t interrupt?”

your lips press together, your gaze falling to your hands. the truth feels too obvious. of course he’s right. he usually is, and maybe you’re starting to think it’s a little irritating.

“it’s polite,” you say finally, the words small. brittle.

“yeah?” his voice is soft, the usual teasing smoothed out. “bet i’d give your mother a heart attack.”

the laugh escapes before you can swallow it down. you’re not sure what it says about you, that you’re laughing at something like this. maybe that’s why it feels like something worth hiding, but you can’t.

and satoru’s grin is immediate. broad and satisfied, like he’s won something. like he’s going to keep winning.

he’s proud of himself for making you laugh, you realize. and that’s… comforting? confusing?

you shake your head, but you don’t correct him. because maybe she would hate him. and for the first time ever, you don’t care. it sits in your chest, unfamiliar, like something you shouldn’t touch but reach for anyway.

+++

satoru is the one who suggested snacks, but not because he was hungry. he just wasn’t ready for the closeness to end.

the air outside had felt light, easy. something about you letting your guard down, even a little, made him want to keep the moment going. so he led you inside, playing it off with a careless grin and a lazy stretch of his arms.

“wait here,” he’d said, flashing you a smile before wandering off toward the kitchen. “be back in a second.”

the fact that you didn’t immediately make some polite excuse to leave didn’t go unnoticed. so he gathered whatever snacks he could find, anticipation growing in his chest. he felt like a teenager with a crush.

now, he finds you in the small sitting area off the main hall—a cozy, quiet space that feels far removed from the rest of the house. a low table with cushions around it, the soft glow of lanterns painting the room in amber.

you look less guarded than usual, like something from before still hasn’t settled back into place. it’s something he’d like to see more of.

“i think the staff have been moving things around to mess with me,” he says as he slides down next to you, a tray of fruit and cookies in one hand. “they can’t outsmart me though.”

he’s rewarded with the faintest twitch of your lips.

he sets the tray in front of you and leans back, watching you reach for a piece of fruit with more hesitance than he’d like.

he’s talking just to keep you there, rambling about the kitchen staff and their obsession with organizing things to the point of madness. you respond, sometimes with words, sometimes with a hum of acknowledgement. but you’re not withdrawing.

he bites into a cookie he doesn’t even want, pretending not to notice the way you move, the way your gaze keeps flickering toward him. it’s only when he shifts to make himself more comfortable that his fingers brush yours on the cushions. a light touch, nothing worth noticing—except that you both do.

the words between you taper off until the quiet feels charged. he notices the way you look at him, how your gaze lingers a little too long before you look away, then back again. like you’re searching for something you can’t quite find.

you’re closer now than you were a moment ago. he’s sure of it.

“didn’t think you’d actually wait for me,” he says. it’s meant to sound playful, but it comes out too soft.

you blink, the faintest hint of confusion flitting across your expression. “you told me to.”

“yeah, but—” he pauses, his finger tracing a line over yours on the cushion. “you could’ve just said you were tired and called it a night.”

your eyes lower, like you’re deciding what to say to that. or if you’re supposed to say anything at all.

“maybe i wasn’t ready to say goodnight.”

the words are so quiet he almost thinks he imagined them. but the way you say it, soft and uncertain, makes something in his chest unwind. his gaze fixes on you now with something he’s not sure he wants to name. something that feels tender and reckless and good.

you’re looking at him like you’re waiting for him to do something. maybe you don’t even realize it, but he certainly does.

he leans in, just enough to see if you’ll flinch, if you’ll draw back into the shell you’ve been living in since your wedding. but you don’t. if anything—if his eyes don’t deceive him—you shift a little closer.

“you know,” his voice comes out lower than he intended. “you’re really bad at pretending you’re not looking at me.”

your face immediately heats up. you don’t deny it. he grins, but it feels more like an admission than a joke. “it’s okay. i’m looking at you, too.”

there’s something so simple about the statement. so stupidly honest. it’s like he’s daring himself to say what he’s been circling around for days.

“you gonna let me kiss you, angel?”

it’s only half-serious. satoru expects you to tense up, to blink at him with that same guarded look you always have when he teases you.

but you’re looking at him without a hint of protest.

“yeah?” he whispers.

you nod. just barely, but it’s enough. he leans in before his stomach can do another somersault.

it’s nothing. a brush of his mouth against yours, enough to test the waters, to feel the warmth of your lips before he pulls back to gauge your reaction. your eyes are wide, but your shoulders are relaxed, your breathing steady, even if it’s a little too careful.

he lingers there, trying to make sense of what you’re feeling—and what he’s feeling. he’s more intentional about this than he’s ever been about anything.

but there’s nothing in your expression that tells him you’re afraid, so he leans in again.

it’s deeper this time. still careful, but not hesitant. his lips press more firmly against yours, his head tilting slightly to see how much you’re willing to give. to see if you’ll give him more.

his hand moves on instinct, fingers lifting to cradle your jaw. the touch is gentle, the pressure light, like he’s scared you’ll break if he moves too quickly.

you don’t break. you let him kiss you, mirroring his movements as best you can. like you’re learning what it feels like to want something. realization settles.

this isn’t pressure. it’s not something you have to endure. it’s something you’re allowed to explore.

he pulls back, but only just. he’s close enough to see the way your lips part, like you’re trying to find the right words and coming up empty. you’re looking at him like you’re not sure what happened.

and then your hand moves.

it feels like a second-guess even as you’re doing it, your hand as shaky as your breath. your fingers brush against his jaw and settle on his cheek, the contact so light that it’s almost not there.

he looks at you with fascination, his gaze dropping to your mouth. and then, slowly, your thumb traces over his bottom lip. just once—more curious than anything.

something inside him stutters. for once, you’re asking him for something.

you’re the one who leans in this time.

your mouth presses against his, clumsy but sure. you kiss him with the kind of caution that makes him want to ruin you, just to see what you’d look like with that gentleness stripped away.

but he stays soft, pliant. lets you take what you want, even if you’re not sure what that is.

without meaning to, you notice things. the way his hand feels against your face, the small, idle circles he traces over your skin, the slight part of his lips. he’s careful and patient and it makes you want to thank him. your chest feels tight, your heartbeat skipping. you’re not sure what you’re supposed to feel right now, but you know you don’t want this to end.

the feel of your mouth against his is something satoru knows he won’t be able to forget. he’s already dreading the fact that he doesn’t know when you’ll let him do this again.

he deepens the kiss, just slightly. not aggressive, not demanding. it’s just… more. his fingers move up from your jaw and into your hair, the touch soothing you.

you realize with startling clarity that you want him. that you want him to keep kissing you. and it knocks the air out of you, because wanting something isn’t something you should to do. want feels like an admission of need.

when he breaks the kiss, his lips don’t go far. they trail to the corner of your mouth, tracing a path over your cheek, then lower, grazing along the line of your jaw.

it’s… too much. but not how you’d expected. not in a way that feels wrong, not in a way that hurts. it’s warm, real, and your chest feels like it’s going to collapse.

it’s not until his lips brush against the spot just beneath your jaw, where your pulse flutters a little too fast, that you gasp. it’s small, but it feels raw and unfamiliar. like something stolen from a part of you that you weren’t ready to acknowledge.

he feels it before you do. the way your shoulders go rigid, as if your own reaction is something you need to hide.

then you pull away.

he doesn’t chase you. just watches as you blink, like you’re trying to wake yourself up from a dream you didn’t mean to fall into. your eyes are wide, your breathing shallow, but you’re not scared. you’re just… startled.

he’s bracing for your apology, for you to retreat into reservation. he’s about to say something—anything to break the tension that’s suddenly wrapped itself around you—when you smile.

small at first, a hint of warmth, something shy. then wider, brighter. like you’re trying to convince yourself that this is real and not imagined. it feels like something he’s not supposed to see.

“okay?” he asks.

you shake your head, exhaling like you can’t believe yourself. “that was nice.”

he watches you a moment longer, his lips twitching. the way you’re looking at him makes him feel like he’s finally done something important.

“yeah?”

you nod, hugging your knees. your cheeks are flushed, your hands trembling slightly. but you look happy.

he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. and then he grins, something easy and genuine spilling across his face. “guess i did something right, then.”

you laugh, and the sound is real.

[friendlynaborhooddisapointment]

trying to write a oneshot where billy gets a phone (his neighbour in the condemned building he squats in gives it to him after she gets a new one) and then ends up starting a tictok account as Captain Marvel. he starts it cuz a tictok abt him got viral so he makes one to repy to it but then gets attached to the app a little (cuz he's like 12) and just continues to make them.

but suddenly i forgot about all tictok trends i could have him do . the only ones i remember are the "pass the phone to someone who" (gonna have him pass it to batman and then batman shits on him for filming a tictok in the watchtower) and the smash or pass cake. WHAT OTHER TRENDS CAN I HAVE THIS GUY DOOOO PLEASEEEEE.

things i want him to do with this acc:

when he sees ppl in shitty situations (abusive), he comments on them being like want me to beat them up for you? (? something along those lines)

dueting dance tictoks and failing really badly

making a video abt all the stray animals he visits (damian becomes an avid follower and fan after this one) and it becomes a series

an info dumb video about tigers

suspiciously helpful life hack videos that are sometimes borderline illegal

maybe a video where he goes around and interviews homeless people with stuff like hey whats ur favorite food? and supper mundane questions- want this to lead to a whole bunch of videos of Cap picking fights with people on the internet over the dignity and rights of homeless people

has a series of 'rate this parking lot' type videos but of different roof tops

Superman pissed him off so he starts a collection of interrupting and finishing Superman's fights for him (oh sorry was this your fight? rip ig u dont have to worry abt him now, see you later!) what did superman do? bro idk ill figure it out

a video taking abt the best websites to download music from for his mp3 player since a comment asks abt it when it shows up in a video (it becomes v obvious that he is broke as fuck in this video and thats all the comments focus on)

billy dueting with fanart and fan edits freaking out being like wow these r so cool!!! (he ignores all the gooner stuff eyes close do not see)

doing tictok dances with some of the homeless of facwet

ends up making a video on resources in facwet for homeless people (since some people ask for it) but they are all kinda unofficial or just survival tips, and also him dunking on some of the official ones that are kinda shady (weirdly personal advice for someone who is probably not homeless? is the vibe)

makes a video complaining abt how because of how popular it has become to pay with everything by card most people dont carry around change anymore, and because of that homeless people get a lot less money then they used too

videos where random citizens call out to him and ask questions or ask him to do random stuff (most of them start off with him about to do a video on something else then derails)

some of the JL ask to do join him on some of the tictoks so a few collabs wth them.

'how many times can i film batman without him noticing me' it gets to 2 because batman was to busy to tell him to stop both times. it ends with batman lecturing him on filming in the tower again

thats all i got for him to do. idk if i will actually write this so feel free to steal it to make your own fanfic (actually please do i hate writing). but i think it would be funny for this perceived adult to make half brainrot type content that feels weirdly natural. also the weird little hints he accidentally leaves abt his civilian life that is very concerning to everyone. no one can tell if he's a million years old or born yesterday lol.

also Captain Marvel and Superman beef pre identity reveal means everything to me. ALSO THE CAPTAIN CHILLING WITH THE HOMELESS AND BEING ACAB MEANS EVERYTHING TO ME and thats like half the reason why i want this to exist.

[aquaaquila]

If said conversation with the love of her life would end up in him having a mental breakdown that could lead to akumatization then he might as well wait for better timing than less of a year from the death of his abuser. It's literally not about her, it's about Adrien's happiness and well-being, and telling him the truth would absolutely destroy him.

Marinette herself is already used to fixing the mistakes of others and making things right, but there's no right way to handle Gabriel. After all, if you tell the truth, you doom pretty much everybody because everybody would face the consequences of Gabriel's actions but Gabriel. The lie isn't here the correct and most moral option but with how this show works, it's literally the only option as any other leads to an even bigger disaster.

While I agree Alya should be more than a black best friend, it's really too late to make such complaints now. That's the basis of her character and her role. Whenever she did act outside of it, people either didn't like it or it was also disastrous. In the end, Marinette is the main character so of course everything revolves around her even if it shouldn't always be like that. Alya was upset with Marinette but she's also ride or die BFF and that's incredible of her, however, Adrien is her bestie too hence she wouldn't be able to lie to him in the long run like that as well as it goes against her own ideals, but once again she AGREED to this.

Oh boo hoo, a teenage girl who is clearly not equipped to deal with such issues like abuse makes a wrong call, how selfish of her 🙄. Not like she feels responsible for everything that happened and tried her best to do the damage control as she thought it would be okay while having virtually nobody properly help her out on this. Marinette literally shouldn't be the one to make such a call and yet she's still forced by everyone to do so anyway. She's literally not acting out of selfish malice, she literally just has no idea how to handle this issue but still tries the best option possible, even though all options she's given are shit.

Like how vile you are as a person to still go around and blame Marinette for the way she's written? You say you hate how the writers made the show an abuse apologist show, and yet you hold Marinette accountable, though arguably she's one of the bigger victims of said abuse in question. Of course, what the writers did was bad, I'm not denying that, I'm not denying they indeed made it an abuse apologism, but Marinette is not the one to blame here.

Lying to your boyfriend about his abuser is bad, but somehow breaking down a harsh truth that everyone knows would utterly destroy him is somehow better. Adrien might as well off himself after learning all the horrible stuff, or you know, turn into a villain maybe even worse than Chat Blanc for all Marinette knows.

My whole point is not about Marinette NOT BEING WRONG, my whole point is that Marinette is not to blame for everything wrong happening. Any option Marinette would take, she would be in the wrong. I bet that if she did come clean right away, people would hate her for "ruining Adrien's life" because obviously once he learned the truth there would never be any real normalcy for him, something he already expressed he craves.

Like, tell me moral justice warrior how do you expect the conversation to go without it ending up in a disaster. The conversation about Gabriel being good was already disastrous as it was.

Said man emotionally manipulated 200 people and plenty of them also didn't know him personally. And it's not like she doesn't have any personal connections to him either, he is her father-in-law. She doesn't need to like him to have a connection with him. He still made HER responsible for his actions so whether Marinette likes it or not, she's still screwed by him.

Marinette's stalking is a completely different issue here so don't change the subject. Nobody approves of Marinette's stalking and you know it so don't turn this thing around. Pretending to be akumatized was pathetic but ultimately harmless. Sublime literally didn't feel threatened by it or take it even seriously. And it's not like Marinette did episode didn't admit to making a mistake and taking full accountability for it. Like seriously stop expecting Marinette to be perfect and not make mistakes, this girl is a wreck and she has every right to be a wreck after 6 seasons of this BS.

"Sneak" is generous considering both Nathalie and Adrien let her in willingly. And I'm sorry but what the fuck was she supposed to do with the Amok. The Akuma was inside, was she supposed to let Adrien be in that giant trophy forever, and for his grandparents to be supervillains forever? She literally didn't want to break the rings but once again, no choice or control for that matter.

And even if Adrien knew about the Amok, the situation would still unfold. Besides, are you really this shortsighted to not take into consideration that Adrien absolutely would have an existential crisis over him being a sentimonster? Like do you actually care about what's best for Adrien or are you just trying to hate on Marinette? Because last time I checked, Kagami, Felix, Nathalie, and Alix also know everything and yet they do nothing.

Marinette literally does everything in her power so her boyfriend can in fact make decisions for himself, but the truth won't suddenly make Adrien able to make decisions for himself. More than anything the truth in question might as well motivate him further to actually not take control over his life because as far as he's aware: he's not a real person, merely a magical being without its own true will, his father designed everything so Adrien would be his trophy, his girlfriend lost and got screwed over because of it and did everything she could on her own when she shouldn't have been on her own, everyone in his family went along with the lies, so please tell me, how can Adrien somehow be liberated by knowing all this? Like "I'm so free because I know my entire life is shit, hurray!".

Maybe Marinette should actually have a support system to help with her issues. Maybe ADRIEN should have a support system to help with his issues that isn't just his girlfriend. Maybe the kids shouldn't be in charge of such big secrets.

Marinette is not a terrible person for making wrong calls, the wrong calls she regrets and would rather not do. The universe literally forced Marinette to Gaslight, Gatekeep, and Girlboss, starting with Tikki, then Fu, then Bunnyx, then Nathalie, and the entire universe for that matter. But nooooo, let's blame a teen girl for everything, how progressive. The miraculous fandom would rather engage in sexism and misogyny than hold the actual abusers accountable

Honestly, in my opinion, Marinette saying she doesn't trust Chat Noir for THIS reason did nothing but VALIDATE Alya in her anger.

Cause all that Marinette actually says to Alya here is that Marinette doesn't want Chat Noir to know because she thinks it's way too likely that Chat wouldn't stand for that lie either and not knowing who the boy underneath Chat's mask is would leave Marinette helpless if Chat were to flip her off and just decide to tell Adrien the truth as civilian behind her back.

Like, that's literally all Marinette said to Alya here. Even if she probably didn't even realize it, it nothing but VALIDATED Alya in her opinion that telling Adrien is the right thing to do because now she being told by Marinette that Chat would side with her, ALYA, and not Ladybug if he knew.

So from Alya's perspective, it's Marinette vs both of her partners who she deliberately keeps in the dark BECAUSE she suspects they wouldn't agree with her.

Which is ironic cause Alya started this conversations asking if this is a Ladybug and Chat Noir vs Rena Rouge situation, only to find out it's Chat Noir and Rena Rouge vs Ladybug.

[livinghalfway]

Younger Years Pt. 8

Masterlist

Summary: Damian gets temp de-aged to 6yrs old; cue him asking where his twin is. This is how everyone finds out about Danny's existence. Word Count: 1817

“I can’t believe you stopped me from running after Danyal, Father! I pray that you do not regret that decision later on for that could have been our one chance to get Danyal!” Damian growled out as he marched into the manor. 

Bruce gave a great sigh as he followed his youngest inside, “Damian, I know you think that you saw Danyal, but we need to confirm what actually happened." 

"You saw what happened! You saw Danyal!" 

"I saw you attempting to chase after another boy." Bruce is worried for his son. It just seems very coincidental that Damian would see his brother, in the building dedicated to said brother, after telling the family about his existence. "And I think you believe you saw Danyal in that boy." 

"Did you see his face?" Damian demands from his father. 

"No." 

"Then what you think is irrelevant to me." He states as he makes his way towards the cave. With or without his father's help Damian will be finding the boy he saw today. That was Danyal, he knows it.

That thought is painful though because that means his brother purposely didn't want to seek him out after all these years. Damian supposes he can't really blame Danyal for that though, not after what their last moments together were. He just needs one chance to try and explain things. 

Upon entering the cave he sees Steph and Cass training with one another on the mats, and Tim already occupying the computer. 

"Drake, pull up all the security cameras for the planetarium building based around the two o'clock showing; outside and inside cameras!" Damian commands as he comes to stand by Tim's side. 

Tim, despite his clear annoyance at being interrupted, does as requested and asks, "Want to share with the class what I'm supposed to be looking for?" 

"Be a detective and use your eyes, Drake. You'll see it." Damian himself is watching the screen like a hawk as he waits for Danyal to show himself on any of the cameras. His brother was luckily wearing a bright red hat so identifying him in the crowd should be easy. He finds the hat before his brother though. Pointing to the screen he says, "Follow his path." 

"Oof, what did this kid do to make you want to hunt him down?" Steph, who is also now also with them along with Cass, asks amused as she too tracks the boy on screen. 

"Not him. He's going to lead me to Danyal though." The silence that follows after is deafening as all eyes snap to him. The security feed was even paused which means Damian couldn't just ignore everyone's reaction. "We are losing valuable time to find him! Continue the video, Drake!"

Instead of doing as he says Damian watches as Tim looks towards Bruce for direction on what he should do. At this he sends a glare towards his father, daring him to say anything that doesn't comply with what he wants right now. 

Damian understands that what he's asking for here is concerning his family; claiming that he saw his twin. Now is not the time to be questioning him though, Danyal could already be gone by the time he finished explaining everything. He just needs them to see his brother for themselves on the security tape. 

"Press play, Tim." Bruce says with a slight defeated tone to his voice. With that the video finally continues, all of them once again zoning in on the individual in the red hat. Watching as he talks with a goth girl, both of them pointing as they approach the planetarium, another figure. 

… a blur? 

Red hat and Goth girl come to stand on either side of the blurry figure, standing in front of the dedication plaque, before the figure grabs onto the other two as they all rush inside. Switching from the outside to the inside cameras they continue to follow the trio. 

The third person has to be Danyal, but why is the camera distorting his image? Before Damian can voice this himself though Steph is already speaking, "Is the blurry guy supposed to be Danyal? Why can we not see him clearly?" 

"That's what I'm trying to figure out." Tim ponders as he continues to analyze the feed. "I'm sending a copy of this to Babs, she'll want to know how and why the cameras aren't picking him up. Regardless of if this is Danyal or not." 

"It is Danyal!" Damian insists, not liking that Tim was doubting him. 

"We'll see." 

Before he can snap back at Tim a gentle hand grips his shoulder. Looking up he sees Cass looking at him with a semi-serious face. "That is Danyal?"

"Yes." He replies instantly, because he knows that who he saw today is his brother; scars don't lie. 

Cass's face smooths as a soft smile grows, "We'll bring brother home." It felt good to have the most competent member of this family on his side. 

Speeding through the tape they finally reach the end of the show where it was announced that Damian and Bruce would be answering some questions. In that moment they all watch as the blurry figure, Danyal, takes the red hat and throws it on his own head while lowering himself in his seat; hiding. 

Pretty soon the interview comes to an end, Damian and his father were quick to make their way out of the building — he had to get out, his answers were far more emotional than he originally wanted — as Alfred was only moments away with the car. 

Danyal on the other hand stayed in his seat until after a minute or so before jumping up, and running towards the door. Leaving his companions behind. 

Switching the camera again it shows Bruce talking on the phone with Damian standing a good few feet away from him. The next thing to happen is the doors flying open, and Danyal's blurry form heading straight towards Damian. He'd almost think his brother ran into him on purpose if it wasn't for the fact that, even with the blur, Danyal is clearly looking behind himself as he moves forward. 

Their first meeting after so many years had been nothing, but a mistake on Danyal's part. He obviously never planned to run into him, to let Damian know that he was even alive, Damian thinks as he watches his brother break away and sprint down the street. All of this could have been solved already if his father hadn't stopped him from doing so. 

Even without having to demand it, Tim continues to track his brother through the cameras until eventually the trail comes to an end with all of them looking at the entrance of a dark alley.

“Drake, is there any way he could have left that alley without the camera’s seeing him?” Damian asks as he mentally plans out the fastest route to the alley his twin hid in. He wishes that he could see Danyal, but the angle of the camera makes that impossible. 

“Not unless the kid can turn invisible.” 

"Then he is currently in the alley now, and I'm going to him." Damian plainly states before rushing to get his Robin suit on. He's getting his brother back now. 

He would have already been halfway dressed by now if his father hadn't stopped him, "I'm going with you then. We still don't know if that is actually Danyal, chum. Somehow his presence is interfering with the cameras, and we can't assume that this whole thing isn't some kind of trap." 

"Think what you will Father, either way we will be going at once!" That is all he has left to say on the matter, and steps past the hand blocking him. 

He hears Bruce sigh before speaking to the others around the computer, "Tim, watch the cameras and let us know if anything changes. You two be prepared on stand-by for backup." 

It doesn't take long after that before both Batman and Robin are racing down the streets in the Batmobile towards the alley. His heart pounding in his chest the closer they get; this reunion can only end badly in his mind. The best he can hope for right now is that Danyal will hear him out. 

They're about half way there when suddenly the car's comms are crackling to life by Tim's frantic voice, "A van stopped in front of the alley with four armed individuals in white suits. Two are entering while the others appear to be guarding the exit. Orphan and Spoiler are heading in that direction now."  

Robin feels the car accelerate at those words as Batman barks back, "Anything identifiers for who they are?"

"G.I.W. is written on the side of the van. I'm running it through the system now for any hits. It should only- bright white light flash from inside the alley! Some type of fight has probably started." 

“ETA ten minutes. Update on the situation as needed.” 

Ten minutes. 

Ten minutes before he reaches Danyal, and saves him from whoever dared attack his brother. He can only hope that he's not too late to do so. 

Nine

Eight

Seven

“Movement from the alley, three individuals exiting. They … they have Danyal, he's currently incapacitated and being loaded in the van. You’re going to need to step on it, these guys aren’t waiting around any longer!" 

Batman visibly tightens his hands on the steering wheel, knowing that he’s not going to be able to make it there in time to stop them from leaving, as he growls out, “Keep track of them.” 

“I’ll do my best, but they’re on a direct path towards Crime Alley. If they truly enter it I’m going to lose them.” 

“Hm, Robin and I will continue our pursuit. Orphan and Spoiler, you two investigate the alley for anything left behind.” 

“On it, B.” Spoiler states. 

In the end there was no way for them to catch up in time before the van disappeared into Crime Alley. Every camera in the surrounding area was going to be heavily monitored from this point forward for when the van eventually went out again though. 

When Orphan and Spoiler returned to the cave the only thing they had was a red cap that contained two different hair samples. One belonged to the boy they saw in the security feed, whose identity was later confirmed to be Tucker Foley, The other showed DNA matching Bruce as the father and Damian as a twin; no signs of cloning found anywhere no matter how hard they searched for it. 

With Tucker Foley’s identity found it wasn’t hard to link Samantha Manson to the goth girl that was with him. That is when they found a boy resembling Damian that was said to be the third in this trio of friends. 

They found Daniel Fenton. 

[ldydeath]

Feels Like I'll Die Without You Part 3 | Kwon Ji-yong (G-Dragon)

Summary: You and Jiyong have to deal with the consequences of your actions.  Word count: 1.5k Warnings: unplanned pregnancy, angst, unrequited love Author’s Note: sorry friends, I don’t think we’re going to see happiness for a bit. This  is the third installment in this series, you can read previous chapters here. 

It had been weeks since Jiyong’s album release. Weeks since your life had completely derailed. When you’d left South Korea no pictures from the party had been posted yet, not really. Not that it mattered, you weren’t in any. By the time you’d gotten home that had changed. Not only had they been posted, you'd been in a lot of them. Harmless at first but there were two that incriminated you. One of you and Jiyong talking, him whispering in your ear and you looking like you could ravish him then and there. The other was him leading you to the bathroom, your hand in his. 

Your boyfriend had them pulled up on his phone, bags packed when you’d gotten home. You didn’t really have to explain anything, he knew and he wasn’t willing to forgive and forget. It was fair, you wouldn’t have forgiven him either. And now as if the world hadn’t frowned on you enough, you were sick. 

You laid in bed, scrolling your phone, wishing you could take back the events of the previous month. You didn’t have feelings for Jiyong, you don’t even know why you’d done it. The thrill of doing something for you, maybe? He was still Jiyong, you’d loved him once and maybe those feelings were just too strong to ignore when you were with him. You couldn’t be with him, though. There was no reality in which that worked out for either of you. 

Your phone rang, Jiyong’s name filling the screen and against your better judgement you answered.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” You leaned back on your bed, hoping you didn’t look as sick as you felt. 

“Just wanted to make sure you got home ok.” He paused, studying your face. “You’re sick.” It wasn’t a question. Of course he could tell you weren’t your best. 

“I’ve been home for almost a month, Ji. And yes. I’ve got the flu or something. I’ll be fine.” 

“Mhm. You could’ve at least texted and told me you made it in.” 

“Sorry I was a little busy being dumped when I got back.” You sighed. “Look, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.” 

The phone went black and Jiyong winced. There was a small part of him that thought you’d stay in Korea, get back together with him, and live happily ever after. That apparently wasn’t happening. You’d been home and single this whole time and hadn’t reached out. Maybe he should move in. No, he knew he should. But he couldn’t. 

There was nothing but silence for another week. Jiyong’s finger hovering over your name to call you at least twenty times, but he knew he shouldn’t. You’d call him when you were ready. Or at least that’s what he hoped. 

You sat in shock, staring at the test in your hand. Staring back at you were two pink lines, and a bunch of other tests that read similarly. You were pregnant. Fuck. One stupid decision had quite literally changed your life forever. And of course the father was Jiyong. Of course it was.  With a sigh, you picked up your phone and sent a text to Jiyong. You knew there was a better way to tell him this news, but you didn’t have the brain power to handle that right now. 

Tour rehearsals were in full force, with the tour starting in a little over a week, Jiyong had dedicated all his free time to make sure everything was perfect for his fans.. It helped to not think about you. As he was doing another fitting his phone buzzed, a smile spreading across his face when he saw your name appear on the screen. He opened the text quickly and almost dropped the phone.

I’m pregnant, yes it’s yours. 

“I gotta go.” He grabbed his security team and all but ran out of the studio. He didn’t even think as he called in the first class tickets, well aware that they only had the clothes on their backs. He’d figure it out when they got to you. He just needed to get to you. Eighteen hours later he was outside your house realizing the time. It was the middle of the night, but he didn’t care. He rang the bell hoping your stupid boyfriend hadn’t come to his senses and taken you back. He wasn’t ready to come face to face with another guy tonight. 

“What are you doing here?” You blinked as you took in the sight of him and his security team. 

“I got your text.” 

“That doesn’t answer my question.” You sighed as you stepped aside to let them in. “You shouldn’t be here.” 

“You’re really pregnant?” Jiyong walked over to you, unsure of what to do with his hands and letting them fall to his side.

“Yes.” You shifted, aware of your audience and folded your arms tightly across your chest. 

“I’ll move here. Whatever it takes. I have to be in their life.”  Your eyes locked in his as he spoke and you shook your head. 

“Your life is in Korea, and your tour starts there in a few days.”

“You’ve been keeping tabs on me.” He smirked. 

“Jiyong.”

“Right, sorry. Not the time.” He shook his head. “I mean it though, I’ll move here. I can find a place during my breaks and we can figure this out. You know I’ve always wanted a family and now we can finally have it, together.” 

“Jiyong, we’re not going to be together. Your life is in Korea, mine is here. We can co-parent when the baby is old enough to travel that distance.” 

This isn’t how it was supposed to be. Jiyong had wished for a wife and a baby his whole life and now that he was finally having a baby he was being told he couldn’t be in their life. That despite everything you still didn’t want him. His heart was shattering in his chest. This was supposed to be the happiest day of his life, not his worst nightmare.

“We can figure it out later. Just let me be here for you. This is half my fault.” He was pleading. Your expression softened and you moved to place your hand in his arm. 

“We will figure it out, I promise you that. But you shouldn’t be here. You guys are welcome to stay here tonight but you need to go home.” 

Jiyong nodded, avoiding your face and signaled for his team to take the guest rooms before moving to the couch. You watched as he moved the cushions around and removed his hat before laying down. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Going to sleep.” Jiyong shrugged, folding his arms over his chest. 

“You’re not sleeping on the couch, come on.” You held out a hand for him, helping him off the couch.

It probably wasn’t the best idea, leading him to your room but the selfish side of you needed him close. You still weren’t feeling great and well, this news was going to change both of your lives forever. The least he could do was hold you while you tried to come to peace with that. 

You both slipped into bed and Jiyong moved to hold you against him. He knew this wouldn’t amount to anything, he couldn’t make you love him no matter how hard he tried to impress you. He’d spend the rest of his life trying to show you he wasn’t that guy you’d broken up with all those years ago anymore. 

You scooted into him, laying your head on his chest, instantly hating how much you two still fit together. You couldn’t think like this, not now. You two hadn’t worked back then, there was no reason to believe you’d work out now. You just needed to shut your brain off. You closed your eyes and let sleep take you away as you held onto the comfort of Jiyong. 

Morning came too quickly, Jiyong was sure he hadn’t slept at all. He’d watched you all night, not wanting to move while you slept. He didn’t know when he���d get another night like this, maybe never, and he wanted to hold onto for as long as possible. You had been right though, he needed to get back home and with flights booked there was no reason for him to stay. Unless of course you asked him too. 

He slid out from under your grip, placing a pillow where his body had been. You stirred but didn’t wake up, thankfully. He leaned down placing a kiss on your head and let out a sigh as he watched you sleep for a minute longer. 

“I love you.” He whispered before walking out of the room. 

It was easier this way, to leave while you were asleep. He didn’t know if he’d be able to fly back to Korea if you’d been awake. But if this is what you wanted, he was going to respect it no matter how hard it was. If all he got out of this life was the opportunity to co-parent with you, that was just going to have to be enough.

tag list: @wcnderlnds @alosss-blog @sooyasya @dprvivi @infinetlyforgotten @mirahyun @loveesiren @tulentiy @sherrayyyyy @gdinthehouseee

[mr-tony-stark]

Tony raises an eyebrow as Bucky said he’s used to leaving and not mentioning it again.  Now of course - that could be a reference to back when he was younger and the Winter Soldier had never happened.  Tony could see that being true for two men back then, just trying to get what they needed in a world where that wasn’t accepted, but for some reason, it felt like Bucky was talking about now.  Which if true a few little puzzle pieces to this man was coming together.  A guy who had been through what Bucky had been through, hadn’t quite come to terms with his sexuality, and was touch starved and feeling angry, inadequate, and unlovable could definitely do the self-destructive thing of hitting up gay bars and just going at it with a stranger and fuck the consequences.  Tony would know.  Tony had been there.

But it did make him wonder if maybe they should have both been using protection now?  Tony had gone into this thinking that Bucky might be - while not a virgin, not fucking random strangers without knowing their sexual history either.

Another thing to add to the list of questions along with another trip to the infirmary to get tested he supposed.

“Yeah,” he said.  “Been there.  Didn’t know if that felt appropriate for now.  If it had stopped with just me fucking you, I would probably have just talked a little longer and then shooed you out so I could get back to work.  But well, that was before I nearly got shoved right down into subspace.”

He watched as Bucky went to get some water.  “I think it’s the only way,” he said.  “Because otherwise we’re just going to keep overthinking about what the other person is thinking.  Just say it.  You know?  It’s weird.  Weird is better than hostile for no reason.”

He leads him up to the bedroom and laughs at Bucky’s awe.  “Well, yeah.  I paid for everything,” he said.  He laughed again, heading into his walk in as he took off his watch. “Stop overthinking it, Frosty Fruit, just get in the bed.” 

He took off his watch, shoes, and pants and switched his shirt for a darker black tank to try and cut the light from the arc.  The room darkened as he made his way back to the bed and despite the darker tank, the blue light from his arc glowed through it.

He got in next to Bucky.  “Hey,” he said.  “If you can’t sleep, or you wake up before me, you don’t have to just lie here waiting for me.  You can use the shower, go down and raid the fridge.  Shit, if you’re really feeling awkward, just head out.  Leave a note or tell FRIDAY what’s up if you’re worrying about offending me.  I will still want to get a drink with you so we can talk this out.  Honestly, if i wake up before you, I’m probably getting out of bed.  My ADHD won’t let me just lie here waiting for you.”

Bucky doesn’t think he’s ever heard Tony say so much to him. This entire day, this is the most they’ve ever spoken even if you took out the sex, and now this, this was much more personal than anything Tony had told him before. So he listens, he really listens so that he can try to understand where Tony’s at right now and what’s going on in his head. And he keeps going, sure it seems a little rambley but it also makes sense.

He rests a hand on Tony’s shoulder, squeezing lightly when Tony says that he’s not going to mind if he needs space, “I want to, genuinely I haven’t slept right since I came out of cryo in Wakanda and came back here,” he admits, letting hand drop as the doors open, “And you’re right, this is all..weird, absolutely not what I expected and i’m guessing you didn’t either. But I’m fuckin’ wiped and I know I would rather fall asleep with the person who did that than try and sleep alone,” he agrees.

This was a whole different experience in general for him , and he finds himself nodding, “I’m used to the whole getting dressed and never mentioning it again,” he admits as they step out of the elevator, glancing around. He liked how the penthouse was laid out, it was open and the view of the city was beautiful. But he focused on Tony again as he points out the bar and everything, going to grab a few bottles of water before coming back to Tony so they could walk to the bedroom together.

“It’s funny, when you first offered, I was worried that it wasn’t something you wanted and now you were worried that it wasn’t something I wanted to do. But embracing the weird sounds like the best idea, at least if we want this to work. And I don’t mean I expect something…just if we want this to work so that we don’t sort of hate each other anymore,” he explains, looking around the bedroom as they get in, “Jesus, you really have the best floor out of all of us” he teases, grinning as he adds, “which is only fair given it’s your tower.”

He hesitates to get closer to the bed but it’s not out of nervousness, “which side do you prefer?” He asks, wanting to know before he accidentally chose the wrong one.

[evermarch]

Hi. Do you think Peeta realised by the end of Catching Fire how much Katniss loved him or did he only realise this later?

hi anon! that’s a question i’ve been thinking about a lot actually since this recent ask. i think peeta strongly suspected that she had feelings for him. i just think he also believed she had feelings for gale. which, in many ways, she did. or, at least, she believed she did, and expressed it in a way that was very easy for someone who’s not katniss to believe she did.

as we know, in the first book, peeta believes katniss is falling for him in the arena. yes, she’s laying it on thick (and by thick i mean mildly flirting, but they both understand that that’s practically sex for her). yet, there are many genuine moments between them, like her cleaning/treating him and the goat story. most importantly, she risks near-certain death to go to the feast when she simply doesn’t have to in order to live. yes, she plays up the whole “district 12 would hate me” thing, but the katniss of a few chapters ago would never have let the potential of being a pariah keep her from returning to prim. peeta knows that. and she seals that knowledge with a kiss unlike any that came before.

so peeta (reasonably) believes katniss has feelings for him. because she does. even if she can’t figure it out for herself at the moment because she’s (excusably) an absolute wreck. but once he learns that she’s been acting for the cameras, there’s no way for him to know what’s real or not real. he can’t puzzle out why she did what she did. because he is still (appropriately) hurt, angry, and also an absolute wreck.

except that, when the dust settles, he starts to realize that she does care about him. she is not indifferent. because she risked her chance to return to the sister she volunteered for in order to save his life. over the six months of silence between them, peeta observes katniss with prim, which reinforces that prim is the most important thing in katniss’ life. so the fact that katniss has risked that for a boy she’d only properly met two weeks ago? sure, there’s that whole owing business she keeps talking about, but there is no world in which that take precedence over the promise she made to prim after the reaping. even if she doesn’t know it.

which leads to the victory tour. it’s here that peeta learns that katniss has real, romantic feelings for him. the nights on the train are the most intimate moments katniss experiences with anyone over the course of the books. it’s where peeta and katniss realize the depth of their bond from the uniquely horrible experience they faced. yes, haymitch understands to some degree. other victors might, too. but how each victor survives the realization that they never truly leave the arena is an experience they face alone. except the star-crossed lovers from district 12. they are in this together.

but after the victory tour, upon learning of snow’s visit and seeing the tension in the districts, peeta is confronted head-on with the reality that an “arena” designed like a giant wedding cake is just as dangerous as the one he just escaped. because now he knows that their actions have ramifications for the rest of panem, but especially district 12. he watches whatever feelings she may have for him become just another weapon in the gamemakers’ arsenal. just another part of the arena. so he knows that whatever they may have had will never be real. because it’s not by choice.

enter gale. gale, to katniss, represents her old life. to peeta, however, gale represents freedom. he is unaware of the tension between katniss and gale. he doesn’t see the cracks forming between them over their relationship and ideologies. he definitely doesn’t see that the biggest crack is shaped like a dandelion. gale, hypothetically, can offer katniss everything peeta can’t. namely, choice. the choice to run away into the woods. to get married. to have children. that’s all confirmed when, after gale’s whipping, she tells peeta she wants to start a rebellion. it’s the only way she’ll ever have any freedom of choice.

thread electrifies the fence, and katniss’ wings are clipped by injury. as peeta carries her up and down the stairs each day, he realizes that her feelings for him exist inside containment. the dome of the arena. the bed on the train. the gates of snow’s mansion. the fence surrounding district 12. the walls of her house. he has no idea whether katniss’ feelings would survive the destruction of those borders. but he believes it doesn’t matter. because mockingjays can’t survive in a cage. they’re meant to fly free. so there’s no way her feelings for him have anything on what she feels for the freedom she has been denied. and gale, of course, is the manifestation of that. when he’s not stuck 12 hours a day in the mines.

the quell is announced. peeta knows he and katniss are going back into containment. he’s not stupid. he knows they’re not escaping this time. but nothing in the world would stop him from trying to make sure she does. which, of course, means that under no circumstances will he be coming back from their newest cage. so he holds onto the belief that, when he dies, in that moment, she will love him. or, at least, have feelings for him. that belief which allows him to put up a wall, to sacrifice his last three months with her for her own good. because she deserves to feel freedom one more time before they are caged. just in case it motivates her to seek out the feeling again.

on the morning effie chooses who returns to the cage, katniss is forced inside. but peeta steps in willingly. because it’s his only chance to help her fly free again. so he has no qualms about taking her love when it’s offered. it feels the same whether they’re observed or not. because inside the cage, it’s hard to remember what exists beyond the cage. inside the cage is uncomplicated by the reality and cost of liberation. so he asks to freeze this moment in time, to contain it, and live in it forever. he’s not surprised when she allows it.

but he doesn’t live in that moment forever, because there’s still a chance his bird will be free. and there’s only one card he can play to convince her to leave him behind. he pulls out the locket to remind her of freedom. only, it doesn’t work. she insists she couldn’t be free without him. that she needs him. but he knows she doesn’t. she’d spent her whole life before him free. but he only found liberation in love. and that only exists for him inside this cage. but she’s not like him. love still waits for her in freedom. to deny her that would be to confine her just as much as the force field.

except…when she kisses him, it tastes like freedom. real freedom, like the freedom of a future. like the last time, in the cave. and, well, he really wants it to be real. so he lets it be. because if he’s going to die here, then he’ll never know anyway if her love for him would survive freedom from the cage. because containment was always going to be his final reality. all he can do now is hold onto his one wish that it won’t be hers.

so yes, by the end of catching fire, peeta knew katniss loved him. he may even have known she loved him a lot. but he didn’t know that she’d chosen him. and he had no reason to believe she would. because he didn’t believe that she needed him. because no one ever had before.

[aspd-culture]

Hi! Hope it’s ok to ask this, I’m a person with aspd’s exception they are also my partner whom I love dearly I wanted to know from you all if there’s any advice you all have or anything. They’re genuinely the best person I know and it took a lot of trust to get to where we are now and it was worth every second I care for them a lot and I want to be the best boyfriend I can to them

(Due to the amount of links and to avoid formatting issues, I'm going to keep this post in plain text only. I apologize for the length of it, and the length of all the posts I'll be linking here)

Hi, it's definitely okay to ask and I really appreciate you coming to someone with ASPD because damn the google searches for this suck. I've got a couple posts on this that go into better detail than I could in one post, so I'm gonna put some links in here and if you need any clarification or have any other questions, feel free as always to ask them./gen

Links & more advice below the cut:

Firstly, one of my posts where I've described what an Exception is (always a good idea to know this so that you're aware of what that means from our side):

How to support a pwASPD:

Urges/possible replacement behaviors:

What "Transactional Relationships" Means for pwASPD (useful to understand how to avoid making someone with ASPD feel unsafe around you:

This one is short but it's something I personally wish more Exceptions realized (how high a value it means we put on you). I don't show you this in any way to put pressure on you but instead to help remind you in the moments where it might not feel like the pwASPD in your life cares (because sometimes it just doesn't come across properly) that they very, very much do:

Tips for dealing with ASPD symptoms from the side of the prosocial person:

Things that can cause ASPD Flares:

And that is probably already a novella's worth of information. But some specific advice I don't know if I've gone into before:

Do yourself and the person in question two huge favors in this and learn about flat affect if they experience that & try to learn to be comfortable with it, and get used to checking in with both of your emotions vs making assumptions on them. That goes both ways, because low/no empathy is a big part of most people's ASPD so they will very likely struggle to notice your emotions, and also because pwASPD have an emotional state that is VERY much misread by prosocial empathy. A lot of pwASPD (and no prosocial I've ever met) have this true neutral emotional state that is kind of the default, and I and many other pwASPD have learned the hard way that this true neutral (not content, just not feeling any emotion at all) reads to empathy as livid. Like truly pissed the hell off. This leads to something that can cause extreme friction between a prosocial and someone with ASPD: this persistent "I feel like you're mad at me" or "I can tell something is wrong" when in fact we are not feeling anything at the moment. Ask this enough times in a row though, or try to tell us what we're feeling, and suddenly the majority of us would sure be feeling VERY ticked off. I'm not saying don't ask at all - like I said open communication of emotions is huge between a prosocial and a pwASPD - but if they say they aren't mad but your empathy (if you have typical empathy) is certain they are, believe them at face value. On the low chance they're lying (most of us won't hesitate to tell you that you've ticked us off), it's probably because it is not something they feel able to discuss at the moment, and because most of us have low/no empathy, we don't expect you to guess how we're feeling anyways. If we don't tell you, we usually get that you don't know and won't like pin that on you in the way prosocials might.

Also, obviously pwASPD are not all the same so the biggest thing is to communicate in general. Don't assume everything I've said in these posts are universal because with a personality disorder, the spectrum of symptoms is wide - that's just kind of how it is when you're dealing with a disorder that affects every aspect of someone's life, actions, emotions, and thoughts.

[aerindrs]

✦𓏲 INTRO TO MY VAMPIRE DRS ܀

Desired Reality 1

this is a shared dr with my bsf rin ( @garrdenwonie ). we're shifting to the 1800s where me and rin are both vampires.

the story starts in 1828 in a small town called transylvania, where vampires and humans used to live peacefully among eachother. the leader of the vampires, Dracula himself riseded in his castle on the hill, with his family. he and his wife had two daughters Mavis and Maeve.

i am Maeve and this is my story.

i was born on a chilly december night in 1710.

throughout my childhood me and my sister would play in the castle yards, sometimes going to the village to see what life looked like among the humans.

we never attacked them.

my parents were strick about not drinking human blood. we stuck to animal blood and it sufficed us just well.

on a random sunny day in the year 1828, Mavis and i went down to the market and that's where i met her.

a little girl maybe around the age of 10-12 hiding behind her mothers skirt. she looked at me, clad in all black with an umbrella as if it was raining but the sun was all the way up, her eyes were curious.

i watched her as she left with her mother, still looking at me and i know she will remember me like i still remember her. because it was only a week after that, when i saw her again.

that night everything changed. something in the peaceful town had flipped.

they attacked on a snowy midnight, the castle was set on fire and my mother had rushed me to the kitchen and pushed me out the back door. her last words were “Maeve— run, now”, before the kitchen blew up.

i did as i was told i ran and ran, horror struck. confused so confused. what happened? why did it turn out like this?

as i was running towards the forest away from the village, i saw her. in a white night gown, awaken from the chaos she stood there in the snow, her look of confusion matched mine but something in me clicked.

i was angry, hungry and i was no human. my primarial instincts took over and i lunged on her biting her.

but when i looked at her face and her weak hands trying to push me away, only then did i realise what i had done. shocked from my own act, i left her blood soaked body and ran to the woods.

i don't know how long i ran, maybe days and nights but soon my body grew tired from hunger and i lay on the ground, my back to the tree and slept. vampires did not sleep, but i was hungry and tired and at that moment i thought i would die from starvation. i blacked out and was only awoken from the sound of his footsteps.

i forced my eyes open, weak but alert. a man stood before me, silhouetted against the snow.

he was tall, broad-shouldered, his dark coat billowing slightly in the wind. but what struck me wasn’t his beauty—though he was beautiful, his sharp features almost ethereal. it was his eyes.

golden eyes that were quite similar to my crimson ones.

a vampire.

he looked at me, then at the blood on my lips, and he understood.

without hesitation, he extended a hand.

“come,” he said. his voice was smooth, steady, as if we weren’t two hunted creatures in the middle of nowhere. “it’s not safe here.”

i didn’t question him. i simply took his hand and followed.

we hadn’t walked far before the sound of boots crunching against the snow sent panic racing up my spine. hunters.

one of them approached us, gripping his sword. “you there. what’s your business out here?” i tensed, but the man beside me—Solon, as he later introduced himself—smiled easily. “we’re a married couple,” he said smoothly. “out for a walk.” the hunter eyed him warily, then turned to me. i forced my face into a soft, harmless expression, trying to look like nothing more than a young wife following her husband.

the hunter hesitated, then nodded. “go home. it’s dangerous out here.” we didn’t wait for him to change his mind. we kept walking, our steps measured, controlled—until we found an inn at the edge of town.

Solon pulled me inside, leading me to a dimly lit room. he turned to leave. i grabbed his sleeve. “you’re leaving?” i whispered. he raised a brow. “i just helped you escape. i have nothing else to do with you.” he walked out, shutting the door behind him.

that night, i lay awake, staring at the ceiling, my mind spinning. i had nowhere to go. nothing left. unless…

the next morning, i found Solon in the inn’s bar, casually sipping tea like he was a normal human. a lawyer, he had said. well-respected in town. untouchable.

i sat across from him. he barely looked up but he spoke to me nonetheless.

“i thought you were supposed to leave,” he muttered.

i met his gaze. “i can’t.”

silence.

then—

“can we do that?” i asked.

Solon frowned. “do what?”

i inhaled sharply. “say we’re married. pretend to be a couple so i can stay with you.”

his fingers tightened around his cup. he stared at me like i had lost my mind.

i waited, if i had a heart it would be pounding.

then he slowly set his newspaper down.

Solon didn’t answer that day.

but the next morning, there was a knock at my door. i opened it to find him leaning against the frame, arms crossed.

“you’ll need a new name,” he said flatly. “and I’ll need to fix your birth certificates. we might need my friend’s help for that.”

i smiled at him. a real smile, for the first time in days.

“of course,” i said, stepping aside to let him in. “husband.”

he clicked his tongue, annoyed as i let out a chuckle. this was going to be fun.

unbeknownst to me, the little girl i had left behind in the snow was alive.

in my daydreams that lead to nightmares, i always saw her weak lifeless body. her voice echoed in my ears asking me to stop, to leave and let her live.

and she did. because in the year 1878 Rhea would walk into Midnight Manor, with her husband Jakah, not as a human child i had seen before, but as a full grown vampire.

the Midnight Manor was built in the year 1830, two years after i met Solon or Sunghoon Park—his human name—and i took the name Marie Park, his wife.

in the dim glow of the inn’s candlelight, i spent my nights laying out our grand scheme to Sunghoon.

each evening, after he returned from work—his coat dusted with city air, his pale hands adjusting his cuffs with meticulous grace—i’d bombard him with ideas.

he humored me at first, leaning against the wooden walls, his expression unreadable, but over time, he began to listen more closely. “we'll live in the outskirts of a small town,” i told him one night, my voice thick with determination. “a house of our own, hidden yet welcoming. to the world, we'll be a newlywed couple—strange, gothic, but normal enough to be ignored. we'll stand by our doors, greeting neighbors like any mundane couple would.”

Sunghoon had only chuckled, that infuriatingly slow smirk creeping onto his lips. “and you think we'd pass as normal?” he mused, tilting his head. i ignored his sarcasm and continued.

i painted the picture of our life with words—our quiet, eerie existence, the slow way we’d lull humans into thinking we were nothing but an oddity rather than a threat. Sunghoon never interrupted, only throwing in the occasional dry remark just to watch me fluster. but in the end, he agreed.

one day, he told me a friend would be visiting. the next evening, Heeseung arrived.

tall, lean, pale as death, yet grinning like the devil himself. he introduced himself as Sunghoon’s cousin to the humans but bowed his head to me in acknowledgment of what we truly were.

another vampire. another shadow lurking in the night.

he owned land on the outskirts of the city, a hidden place away from prying eyes. "we’ll build your little haunted dream together," Heeseung said, smirking as he spread his arms. and so we began.

the land was silent, untouched by time, the trees frozen in eerie stillness. she soil was soft beneath our feet, welcoming our presence.

the first few weeks were grueling—Sunghoon and Heeseung handled the labor while i designed our home. ehat started as a modest two-story house soon grew.

and then something strange happened. the house began to change on its own.

at first, it was subtle. a hallway that seemed longer than the night before. a door that hadn't been there yesterday but led to a fully furnished room. then, it became undeniable—each guest we took in caused the house to expand. a new room would form. the library would stretch, its shelves multiplying.

the Midnight Manor was alive, breathing with us, molding itself to our needs. it became our home.

the house was fascinating. not only did it expand to it’s liking, it also teleported. one morning we would wake up in the rural areas of england, and another morning it would be in the bustling streets of paris.

when danger lurked nearby, the manor worked by itself. Heeseung would tell us we should run, but the manor was faster. changing locations when the hunters were near sight. so all they could see was barren land and nothing else.

Midnight Manor was a solace. a place monsters like us could come and rest and then leave if and when they want to.

the manor would find them. appearing only when one is in need. of a place called home.

and so it appeared in front of Rhea and Jakah. lost vampires who had been running ever since they were turned.

Rhea would tell me later—when i had her in my arms like an old friend and no longer the monster she knew of—that she was saved by her parents when i turned her. they had kept her hidden under their roof until she was 18 and had sold her to the Yangs.

the Yangs were a prestigious family of vampire hunters. i knew them very well. the elderly man had once come to my father, Dracula to form a contract. a peace treaty they had said. but we were fools.

Rhea had been sold to marry their youngest son, Jakah. but unlike his family, Jakah had a secret weird infatuation with vampires. he had found out Rhea’s secrets and wanted to be bitten too.

curiosity took the best of him and Rhea had turned him into a vampire. they could no longer stay with the Yangs and decided to flee. both of them going by the names Rin and Jungwon to hide among humans.

it took them 50 years to find the manor. to come to me. fate was cruel to us all, but we were no longer kids. time had taught us and were going to make full use of it.

notes : the day we shift is the day rin arrives at the manor. the rest of enhypen is involved, but they come slowly one by one as years go by so we will be experiencing it all together.

• my s/o is sunghoon but also jino/jake who is a vampire hunter who comes to the manor in the 1900s. he's the only human i bite after rhea in more than hundred years.

• my backstory is heavily inspired by hotel transylvania and dw my dad and sister are alive i meet them later on. i also stole the zing idea from here, basically the glow/flash in vampires eyes when they meet their soulmates.

• when we've shifted i'll make a master list and seperate my drs and post the story times too.

Desired Reality 2

this is another dr with @garrdenwonie but it's in the year 2022 and we are both actors. the backstory for this dr is the first dr with many added plots between the years like in the 1900s.

every fifty years, we followed the same tradition. all the residents of the Midnight Manor—Heli, Solon, Maeve, Shion, Rhea, Jakah, Jaan, Jino, Noa, and the supernatural beings who had joined us over time (such as Aespa, IVE, &Team)—would switch identities. we changed our names, created new backgrounds, and blended into human society once more.

this tradition started after the 1920s, years after Noa made his decision to turn into a vampire at 18. by then, we had spent centuries hiding, and honestly? we were tired of it. we weren’t bloodthirsty monsters lurking in the shadows, waiting for the next hunt. we just wanted to experience the world as it changed around us.

it all started on a dull afternoon when Rin (Rhea) and i ventured into town. that’s when we first heard rumors—whispers about a city that never slept, where night was alive. a place where a prestigious academy ran night classes. the concept intrigued us. a school operating on our natural schedule? we had to see it for ourselves.

when we arrived at Decilis Academy, we were met with a shocking discovery. the academy was a sanctuary for supernatural beings, run by a vampire civilization hidden within human society. the headmistress explained it’s system: it’s job was to erase our past lives, forging new identities, birth certificates, and histories so that we could start fresh without suspicion. it was the perfect way for us to integrate while keeping the supernatural world hidden.

the offer was too good to refuse. we all enrolled, eager to experience this new way of life.

after decades of trying new identities, careers, and hobbies, we finally settled on something that excited us.

in 1970, we decided to form a band. Heli became Ethan, Jakah was Johnny, Jaan was James, Rhea took on the name Ruby, and i went by Maya Claire. we were high school dropouts turned underground musicians.

we never expected it, but our music took off. our fanbase exploded, and within a few years, we were internationally recognized artists. it was thrilling—sold-out concerts, screaming fans, the adrenaline of performing on stage.

but after ten years, the vampire system intervened. they warned us that staying in the public eye for too long was dangerous. the longer we remained famous, the harder it would be to erase our identities again. they ordered us to retire and lay low.

it was bittersweet. we had loved every moment of it, but we understood the risks. so, we disappeared from the industry, fading into legend.

after years of retirement, the Midnight Manor took us to London, where we stumbled upon something even more fascinating than Decilis Academy—the land of witches and wizards.

we learned about Hogwarts, a school strikingly similar to Decilis. it had its own secret government—the Ministry of Magic—which functioned almost like our own vampire system.

through Professor Dumbledore, we were invited to enroll as students in 1995 to better understand their kind. even though we weren’t human wizards, we still possessed our own innate magic—abilities that didn’t rely on wands, but rather on our existence as supernatural beings.

for three years, we lived among wizards, learning about their world and hiding our own. it was another chapter of discovery, another life we immersed ourselves in.

by 2000, we had once again faded into the background, vanishing from Hogwarts records like ghosts.

as always, we found new ways to entertain ourselves.

in 2016, after Rhea reinvented herself again, she began her acting career in South Korea. watching her thrive in this new industry, i decided to follow suit, adopting the name Marie Claire.

to explain our eerily similar appearances, the vampire system created a backstory: Maya Claire was my “grandmother”, and i was her lookalike granddaughter.

my first major acting role came in Narnia, which brought me international recognition. from there, i starred in:

To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before

XO, Kitty

these projects gained me popularity in South Korea, eventually leading to my first K-drama—alongside Rin (Rhea)—where we played Lee Hyerin and Eun Marin in Twinkling Watermelon (2022-2023).

it was a surreal experience. the story, about four kids traveling back in time to change their parents’ lives, resonated with audiences. the drama was a huge success, and working with well-known actors was something i had only imagined before.

after that, Rin and i continued working together in Alchemy of Souls as Naksu and Mu-deok, and in Family By Choice as Juwon and Dal.

i also took on roles in:

Stranger Things Season 4 as 003

Squid Game Season 2 as Semi

Bridgerton Season 4 as Sophie

these roles cemented my career, and both Rin and i received multiple awards.

despite all our adventures, the Midnight Manor remained our sanctuary.

from the outside, it appeared to be a simple apartment, blending in with human society. but on the inside, it was still the same grand estate i had envisioned centuries ago when Solon and i first dreamed of a safe place for us all.

no matter how much the world changed, we remained the same.

we had learned how to live among humans, hidden yet civilized.

we had made careers, memories, and legends.

through it all, Solon and i stood strong together. our endless bickering had softened over time with Jino joining us. the centuries shaped us, yet we remained each other’s constant.

and above all—we had become a family.

notes : this dr was scripted because we wanted to experience filming our twinkling watermelon dr. so we will be shifting around 2022 when it was filmed.

• we will be making a tiktok post about all the shows/movies/kdramas we're both filming (my tiktok is aerindrs and rins is ltsredsreality)

• we scripted lots of precaution type things for this dr like people easily forgetting or not noticing that we don't age. then vampires can be seen in mirrors, pictures, films and all that like we aren't typical vampires.

• overall this dr is for fun and we will be experiancing the ‘backstory’ for this when we shift to the first dr and have reached the years.

Masterlist

[parkercore-69]

why.

I cannot explain my reasonings but only hope you can spare me your trust in them

[tlgtw]

Man that DLC's final boss has got me feeling kinda fucked. I'm kinda depressed about it now that I'm done. Everything else is, was, so good. But I do not like that plot development. I honestly think it is bad. Why did they choose not to foreshadow this in literally any way? Why did Miquella attempt to resurrect Godwyn at all in the first place, then? Practice? Was this really what was originally planned? There's no actual evidence to the contrary so you gotta assume it must've been.

So yeowch...

[light-wrath-paradise]

When I start having a panic attack about visiting my family I know it's time to go to sleep immediately no ifs no buts