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thepinkdreamganjaqueen · 30 days ago

Text

Run Rabbit

Homelander x Fem Reader

Masterlist 🩷

Summary: Homelander spots you assisting first responders helping those less fortunate in a building fire. People he wouldn’t normally bother helping or even caring about. It’s just his job and a mundane and boring one at that. But you caught his eye. You selflessly cared for them, helping them. It disgusts him. HE needs your help! It makes him want to make you dirty, to spoil your spirit, to make you like him, and what the Homelander wants, he takes.

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, oral (m and f receiving), piv, unprotected sex, breeding, gaslighting, coercion, DUBCON, praise, begging, mentions of violence, stalking, swearing, obsession, D/S implications, mentions of death (implied), blood play, choking, kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome, dacryphilia, mommy issues (brief mention)… It’s homelander…

A/N: My head Is so full of fuck! I had to get a Homelander fic out in the midst of all these fics I’m grinding on! This man, being of pure perfection, got me in a damn chokehold!! Why do we always tend to go for the guys that are walking red flags? Like, I can fix him! On a more serious note, these characters are all endearing in their own way. Trauma can manifest into some pretty terrible things, and I think we can all relate to that in some way or another. I tried to keep it short... that did not happen you know how it goes. Please, I hope y’all enjoy this one! And as always, I welcome, ideas, comments and criticisms, but please be nice. Cheeers!

Word Count: 6.3k

Tags: fem!reader, smut, dark content

RUN RABBIT

He watched as you helped those around you. He had been for a while now, just out of view of the bustling crowds beginning to form and watch the commotion. He watched as you gave aid to those less fortunate. The vulnerable people you had pledged to help so long ago. It was your job and came naturally to you. He watched as the building continued to burn growing fiercer with each moment that passed. Fire reflected in his eyes with a look of discernment, perhaps even disgust, but all he could seem to focus on was you. He watched as you gave people solace and respite, watched as your hair clung to the sweat on your face from the heat of the flames, how your ample chest rose and fell as you breathed shakily, helping the local paramedics and EMT’s. You gathered supplies and handed out bottled water to those affected. A fire had broken out at the shelter. It was an old building, probably not up to date on fire regulations and things of that nature. It housed approximately 80 people that evening. You rushed about frantically helping in any way you could. A bleeding heart, he thought.

He felt a mixture of abhorrence and lust. Something about the way you cared for those he considered beneath him. He couldn’t understand, his distaste for humanity growing every day. Yet, something about the way you cared for them, in a loving, and motherly way, so perfect. It stirred his loins and a deep longing simmered within him, a feeling he was quick to extinguish. He often had these troubled thoughts paired with erections. It was nothing new. Trauma manifesting into sexual desires as a coping mechanism. He hastily grabbed at his crotch, shifting his bulge within his suit.

He was above it all anyway. Humans merely play things for him, entertainment. Like a fox chasing a rabbit, you became his prey. He would make you his new toy and break you. He wanted to make you dirty, to make you like him. He wanted to ruin you. He had to be methodical about this, but still, it would be easy, he thought. Conquests were never a challenge for him. He was handsome, had charm, and could put on a “friendly” demeanor if he needed to. Plus, he was a supe. If he couldn’t get a woman with his A lister status alone, he could simply force her to be with him. He would do what was necessary. He preferred little to no effort, but he couldn’t lie to himself. Sometimes, he liked the chase. Both literally and figuratively. He was like a predator. Cold, calculated. Run little rabbit, he’d think to himself. Seeing lesser beings and their pathetic attempts to escape him was his favorite kind of entertainment and maybe even gave him the feeling of joy. If only for a short time. He often found himself bored, tired of the mundane. Meetings at Vought HQ, Ashley up his ass, saving…. People. His disgust caused a visceral reaction. Tonight, he would find entertainment to chase that elusive high.

He flew over, hovering then lowering himself as he outstretched his arms, palms down as if to quell the crowd’s murmurs and bestow peace. A façade, he couldn’t care less. He had ulterior motives. “Don’t worry, everyone, everything’s under control” he spoke. Sure, he initially showed up to do what The Homelander does… be a hero. But you caught his eye, something more interesting and surer to be more giving than the appreciation of his adoring fans and the thrill of an applauding crowd. He wanted the pleasure of seeing you beg for him. Soon. He thinks to himself with a mischievous look crossing his lips. He is staring at you as he lands. You thought he looked your way but couldn't be sure. He began that repetitive, mundane, and ever so grueling process of saving these pathetic souls. He darts in and out of the building, grabbing them one by one at a crawling pace ‘for him’. Everyone in the crowds cheered on as you watched this man help people.

It was no unordinary feat truly. Supes were common, and Homelander was the most well-known. The leader of the seven, Americas hero. Nevertheless, you watched on as he effortlessly helped people get out safely. You caught yourself admiring his physique, he was essentially perfect. No wonder, you thought. It’s as if he was made to be perfect. His charismatic smile, striking blue eyes, chiseled jawline, and athletic build. You found yourself breathing heavier, face flushed, racy thoughts manifesting. You were still in that moment, watching how his suit would singe from the flames that brushed and flicked against him. Embers flew from the fabric and fizzled out, skin remaining untouched but revealed underneath. The glint of the gold eagle shoulder accents on his suit shined in the light of the raging fames that burst through every opening of the building, returning once more.

The building erupted in what must have been a gas line explosion you thought. Homelander walked out through the flames with the last individual hurled over his shoulders. He sauntered over to your direction where you stood with a few EMTs who were supporting victims in a pop-up tent. Next to you, a bare stretcher. Homelander stopped next to you and dropped the smoking body onto the stretcher, eyes locking with yours as he did. He could hear your heartbeat quicken and your breathing go shallow. You were unsure if it was fear or excitement in this moment, he scared you in a way. You couldn't tell if he was disingenuous. Too many things were happening all at once, it was a state of high emotion and your head was spinning. You felt like you were helpless and had no control. He did though. He behaved as if this was nothing to him, as if he could do this one hundred times over. Of course he could, yet you could sense the arrogance behind his charismatic demeanor.

You manage to speak in his presence. Something you had tried to do for several unending moments now under his gaze. “Thank you” you manage to mumble in a timid manner. You found it hard to maintain eye contact with him. He was so sure, so confident, and so… beautiful. You had never had the opportunity to be in the presence of a supe, let alone meet one. You had only seen them on TV, in the news, or in movies. Simmering in what you thought to be embarrassment or intimidation, you hastily make you way out of the tent, brushing by him as you passed. He watched over his shoulder as you disappeared behind him, feeling the warmth from you as you passed. He inhaled deeply as you walked away. You were so flustered but didn’t know why… You knew why, truly you did. It just didn’t make sense. You didn’t want it to make sense. You felt attraction to him, and you felt guilty for it for whatever reason. For many reasons. But mainly, you felt bad that in this moment, you felt lust and your attention drawn away from the people that needed your help the most.

You made it behind the tent and had begun fidgeting with a worry stone you kept in your pocket. Rubbing it furiously when you hear the wet splat of steps behind you. You look down, the grounds wet; the fire fighters must be here, you think. A firm hand grabs your shoulder and spins you around. He looks at you matter of factly with a smirk. “You know, I wanted to tell you back there, thank you, for the work you do and for helping these fine people” he said, hand still on your shoulder. His eyes beaming into yours a deep sapphire. “I also wanted to let you know that there were some folks over there that could really use your help! That is, if you still want to help people.” He watched as shame crossed your face, then guilt and confusion. Easy, he thought. They’re so fucking easy! His smile, perfect white teeth gleaming at you. You recoil at his words, struck by how kind he sounded with the contrast of his delivery. You felt immediately inclined to help, like you didn’t have a choice but to prove it to yourself, and to him, for whatever reason.

You nod your head in agreement, convinced by him you needed to. You feel a weight take over your entire body, pulling you down. Before you realize you were being flown away from the scene. The Homelander had picked you up and shot towards the sky. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, holding you against his body. Terror filled you, but you were too high up to scream, the force of wind hindering your speech and breathing as it forcefully blew past your face. What did you agree to? You think. Where is he taking me? As quickly as the thoughts came to fruition, you were on your feet once more. He was looking down at you, still clinging tightly to your lower back. His face is indifferent and uncaring, almost empty. The suit he wore felt ridged where flames made contact. Soft in some places where the fabric was still intact and cool, where his skin peeked through. Your arms still grasped his biceps until you became aware you were doing so and let go. You wondered how he felt under the suit. He’s invincible, is his skin like that of a rock, or is he soft and pliable. He caught you gazing at the areas where his suit had melted away. He watched as you admired him. He knew the thoughts running through your head. He could see them cross your face. He was amused. That mixture of lust, exhilaration, and fear. He craved that from you, and you were abundantly insatiable.

“Just through there.” He gestured kindly toward a door as he let go of your waist. You took a second to observe your surroundings, still fearful of what exactly you were doing and where the hell you were. For an educated girl, you felt like this was a really stupid decision. You were standing on a white tiled balcony about fifty, maybe sixty stories up. The city sprawled out before you. You could see city lights and in the distance a plume of smoke sure to be the fire you just came from. You remarked at how far away you were. Looking towards the door you saw white curtains billowing through the opening leading into a dark room. “This way” he gestures once more. His hand at the small of your back pushing you towards the entrance.

You step inside, looking for someone, anyone. A large room with a couple connecting hall ways it looked like. Seems to be an apartment. A very nice one. You begin searching the room familiarizing yourself with it, it’s pretty dark except for the light of a modular fire place that hung from the ceiling. There’s a four-post bed with sheer white curtains, lace pillows, and a velvet duvet. Some accents, art, and statues, it looked very high class, very luxurious. Who did it belong to? You thought. It didn't matter though.

Homelander had stepped behind you watching you roam the apartment you were now essentially trapped in. He stood behind you, shedding off pieces of his torched suit, exposing himself completely. He playfully tugged at his cock, already hard. Pulling it to his abdomen and letting it slap down onto his leg in a spring like motion. SLAP! He was hard watching you at the building fire, the intensity only grew. Especially when he held you close. He watched you search the room, calling out to no one. He snickered to himself. How much is she really willing to help hmm? He thought about you begging for him, praying he would let you come, but only after he tore you to shreds and broke you down mentally. He needed you to crave him, needed you to need him. Appreciate him, respect him, and most of all, obey him! Look at her, stupid enough to go along with this, she’s so sweet. It sickened him and only made his fervent lust grow.

The realization finally began to hit, and a pit dropped in your stomach. There was no one here to help. In a way, you already knew but held onto some kind of hope, albeit for nothing. You began to spiral in your mind when a loud slap could be heard behind you. You spin around quickly on your heels, already on edge when your eyes are drawn to Homelander. The doors had closed behind him, and there he stood, completely nude in front of you. You stood with your mouth agape when he said “sorry, my suit was burned, practically tarnished, I had to take it off.” He shrugged his shoulders and chuckled with a sly smile. Hs eyes narrowed as he grabbed his cock and pulled it up once more to his abdomen and let it slap down onto his leg. SLAP! He was throbbing, watching your reaction to him so boldly lying to your face and exposing himself to you, jacking off in front of you with zero consequences. He knew he could do anything he wanted- get anything he wanted, and anyone would give it to him, even you. Whether you liked it or not.

You recoiled in disgust and shock, eyes wide with fear. Although earlier you had thought about him like this maybe even slightly, not like this! “Where are they?!” you tried to say in a tone that was stern yet confident enough to not show fear. He could hear the fear in your voice, the pulse that raced through your veins that told everything in your mind and body to run away. “Who?” he replied teasingly. SLAP! “The people! The people you said needed help!” you shot back, starting to lose your cool. Heat rose to your cheeks and you felt hot, dizzy and angry. The light of the fireplace danced gently over his features illuminating him in an amber glow. Every muscle, every shape and curve on his body, shrouded in firelight.

He stepped forward, walking briskly towards you. You stammered back, glancing behind you, looking for a place to run but hitting a wall. You tried to look for an exit, but the room was dimly lit, and it was too late. He was already right in front of you. You leaned against the wall and clasped your hands behind your back as he pressed his hand against the wall next to your head, the other hand holding his throbbing length… SLAP!

“It’s me!” he said in a curt tone, almost annoyed you didn’t know. His eyes traveled, looking you up then down. “I need your help!” he stated. You turned your head sideways as he leaned in, whispering in your ear “My suit was burned, I could have been hurt saving those people, don’t you care?” A brief flicker of red lit up behind each eye, and you felt yourself shrink in his presence. You were scared, unsure of yourself. He’s invincible, you thought. Your head spun; you didn’t understand the weight of the situation. Except that he lied to you to get you here. He grabbed your chin with his free hand and turned your face to his, looking at you behind a furrowed brow. “Don’t you care about me?!” SLAP! His face scrunched, examining your reaction, waiting for a reply. “Y-Yes.. I care about you.” You chimed apprehensively and unconvincingly. He doesn't even know your name, you thought. He doesn't care.

He let go of your chin. “Show me” he demanded behind a mischievous smile that curled at the ends of his lips. He placed his hands on your shoulders gripping the fabric of your shirt underneath and ripping it off, pulling it apart, you heard the buttons pop off and hit the floor with a ting as it ripped down the center. Your heart leapt into your throat as he devours you with his eyes, reeling in the sight of your ample breasts and the soft fleshy skin beneath your bra. He was all but salivating for you. He wanted to rip your bra off and nuzzle himself between your breasts, to inhale the skin, to feel their warmth. But he wanted you to prove yourself. Did you really care about him? Were you really a good girl?

At this point, you realize what he brought you here for. But why you? He was a supe. He could literally kill you without a thought, and he would be protected. Your mind was hazy, but you couldn’t stop your own eyes from wandering. He was, in all his glory, vulnerable and bearing himself to you. Part of you thought it irresistable, intimate even. His body against yours felt like fire, and your senses began to tingle and go haywire. SLAP! You found yourself at the will of your hormones as your thoughts and body took over. He pushed his body closer, his hard length now pushing into your abdomen with force. A gasp fell from your lips as he looked into your eyes, a deep blue sea of burning blue ice. Entranced by his physique. Another whisper, more stern this time “I said, show me!”

He stepped back, and you dropped to your knees in front of him. His hand on top of your head caressed the side of your face and slid to the underside of your chin, forcing you to look up at him, he gave a cursory look, eyebrows raised as if to say ‘I’m waiting’. Not wanting to disappoint him or make him angry, you quickly raise your hands up and rest them on his thighs. Feeling the softness of his skin. Leaning in, you open your mouth and take him in. His hands were immediately in your hair, pulling you in closer. Sticking out your tongue and forcing his length down the back of your throat. Tears begin to stream down your face. He put a finger to your face, catching a tear as it fell and pressing it to his tongue. His throbbing cock twitched in your throat. It was substantially thick and unreasonably big, the force stretching your throat was enough to make you cry.

He threw his head back, letting out a low groan. Your mouth is so warm, so wet, and so tight. He imagined stretching your pussy, pounding you into oblivion until you either cried and begged for him to stop or climaxed and cried for more. You continued sucking, taking him in as deep as you could each time, hoping to please him and show him you were truly a good person. That you did care about him, you cared about everyone truly...but especially him. He created a feeling in you- you had not had previously, a desire for him. You used your hands to explore his body as you gulped him down, mesmerized by him. Caressing his abdomen, his buttocks and his balls. He had his hands twisted in your hair, rocking with the motion of your mouth. Every once in a while, taking your time to gently circle his tip with your tongue while sucking, ending in a kiss to his tip. Each time your lips pulled from him, a trail of precum would string from your lips.

You looked up at him, licking your lips clean. “Mmm, that’s a good girl. Show me more.” He growled through his passion as he pulled you to your feet and directed you to get on the bed. He smacked your ass with force as you walked, it rang out with a snap, even against the fabric, it stung. You lurched forward falling into the bed face first. He quickly stood behind you spreading you knees apart on the bed with his legs as he approached. He began tearing your remaining clothes from you in shreds laughing. You felt defeated and ashamed, but you wanted more. Embarrassment filled your face with heat, a bright red hue colored your nose and cheeks.

Your bra, snapped and torn. Your jeans, off, split in two, your underwear, lacy and white, torn from between your legs. You whimpered as they dug in while being ripped off of your body. Quick and painful. Grabbing your hips, he pulled you closer to the end of the bed where he stood. A cold breeze drifted across your back, buttocks, and exposed legs. He had you right where he wanted you. He liked it when you squirmed, when you whimpered. You thought perhaps you liked it as well. You found yourself helpless, at his mercy, and obeying his every command.

He smacked you again and again. The sound of your flesh being abused rang out into the empty room, bellowing out and echoing back to you. Your skin again burning from the impact of his open hands leaving red hand prints sprinkled over your flesh. He joyfully continued. His face in a half smirk with eyes narrowed as he reveled in every cry that escaped your mouth. Your skin, now mottled with bruises and scratches. Smack! Again, he slaps your ass and drags his fingers down. Pinching you, squeezing hard, and watching you recoil, helpless to get away. You could feel the wetness spread between your legs. “Who’s my good girl, huh?” he said confidently in a gruff. “I aam” you cried out in a huff, face buried in the blankets. He placed both palms on your cheeks and placed his thumbs close to your crevice, pulling with his thumbs and exposing your most intimate parts to him. The brisk air on the wetness of your cunt sent a shiver up your back and goosebumps peppered your skin. Homelander took notice and began smoothing his hands over the surface of your legs and back as you lay before him, relishing in the work he’s created. An artwork of purple and red now enhanced by the prickling of your skin.

What a sweet little cunt, he thought to himself. He then pushed against the surface of your opening with a single finger, taunting you, teasing you in a cruel way. You rocked your hips back toward him but couldn’t move, not unless he decided to let you. “what’s wrong bleeding heart? Not so sweet now, are you?” You whined as he toyed with you. Slowly drawing circles around your labia, clit, and opening, spreading your wetness around his fingers and your vulva. “Please, Homelander, please!” you begged him, a muffled plea distorted from the blankets below. You turn your head to look back at him, the only thing you could manage to move. You watched as he brought his face down, placing his tongue along your slit, flat, wide, and slowly licking up towards your entrance. You couldn’t take it anymore; he was teasing you and you were putty in his unforgiving hands. You melted into his touch. Pure bliss and euphoria filled your body as your mind released a load of dopamine to your receptors. Telling you, you wanted him, no- you needed him. Now!

Slowly, he pushed two fingers in. The sheets below you, clutched within your hands as you lay on top of them. His hand held tightly, gripping your left cheek, holding you open as he explored, pushing in harder and deeper as he went. He could manage his strength sure, but he wanted so badly to fuck you into the bed, and you wanted to feel just a fraction of his strength, you thought you could handle it. In his mind he knew you couldn't. You, a delicate little thing. A rabbit he had caught. But just the same he held back, he needed time to play, to be entertained.

The room filled with the aches and moans coming from your mouth as he pulled his fingers in and out of you, licking up and down your slit, and fucking you with his tongue. You wanted to move, but he had a hold of you. But you wanted to see his face, to watch him as he pleasured you so lovingly, a stark contrast to how you got here. They way his tongue traveled so freely between your folds and into your core, both tender and firm. There was no escape. You didn't want him to stop, your walls quivered around his fingers.

He stopped, his fingers sopping, his face covered in your fluid. You feel his arm reach under you and pull you, turning you around. You lay before him on your elbows, knees bent. He pulls your forward, his face stern, as he gazed at your chest. He kneels in front of you and without words opens his mouth and laps at your breast flesh with his tongue. Sucking, licking, biting, lightly flicking your nipple with his tongue. A low hum building in the back of his throat. Your juices now smeared all over your chest as he paws and devours your breasts. You moan in ecstasy, a high-pitched squeal that reverberated in the room. You could feel his lips curl into a smile around your areola as he consumed all of you. Inhaling you in deeply.

Your hand roamed his body, such a powerful being, and you had the pleasure of taming him. Your hands, rubbing along the muscles on his back, your fingers tracing the veins sticking out on his arms as he cradled your chest. In this moment, you weren't scared of him. You knew his power that he could kill you with his dick if he wanted to. But in this moment, he was vulnerable, weak even. He was the most human right now with you than he had felt in a while. Something about a woman with ample breasts opening up for him, opening everything up for him, filled him with a sense of true belonging. The elusive high he was truly trying to chase but always evaded him so eagerly. It was true compassion, isn't that why he chose you? You, specifically. Not just a beautiful woman, a beautiful woman with a pure heart.

"You’re being such a good girl," he moaned into your chest. You move your hands from his shoulders to his face, pulling him up. He looks up at you. You observe an innocent, unassuming look in his eyes. He follows where you guide him. Your lips push against his in a heavy kiss. He pushes your shoulders down and pins you to the bed, enveloping you in his own passionate kiss. He swirls his tongue in your mouth and bites your bottom lip hard. You could taste the tinge of blood, like pennies in your mouth. Blood pooled at the corner or your mouth. With a flick of his thumb, he wiped it away and kissed you again. He found the taste of your blood mixed with your essence to be intoxicating, making him drunk with lust.

"Are you ready for your reward?" He said nefariously. That smile, no matter how menacing you thought it was, still made you crumble. "Mhmm" was all you could manage. He stood, quickly lifting you from the bed so you were face to face with him once more. He cradled your legs in his arms, holding you to him effortlessly. Slowly, you felt his arms drop you down, his hardness, now piercing your slick wet opening just barely. You groaned, once again trying to motion yourself closer to him, to feel him inside you, but he wouldn't let you move. It was his decision and his alone. With your arms wrapped around him, you began kissing his face and neck. Lightly with delicate pecks.

Her lips were so soft and moist, he thought to himself as you indulged in him. Leaving traces of saliva trailed down his neck as you pulled your lips from his skin. Soft breaths from your mouth, creating a cool sensation on the surface. He growled deeply and with sudden force, dropped you down, sliding his whole length into you without hesitation or effort. He chuckles as you cry out. His swollen cock, so stiff, so large. It hurt sliding in. You were dripping with him just sticking the tip of his head at your surface, so he entered you easily. But you could feel the pressure inside stretching you from within, a painful yet satisfying fullness. His face was focused on yours as you cried in ecstasy and pain. The pain only amplifying the pleasure of him forcefully ramming you, lifting you up and down, sliding you on and off his cock. He could feel the pressure of your walls closing up and gripping him every time he slid hid length out of you. Then having to forcefully push back in again, opening you up. “So. Fucking. Tight.” He said with each grunt as he proceeded.

Homelander’s thoughts had ceased at this point. He was enveloped in euphoria, acting on pure instinct but somehow still able to hold back. He concentrated on your face, watched as beads of sweat pooled on your forehead, then dropped down your face and onto your chest, glistening on your breasts. How your eyebrows curled up in the middle as your voice rang out into the room. Your screams only made him more crazed. He pounded you in a frenzy. Meeting each thrust with a grunt as he hit your cervix harder and faster with each push, causing you to cry out in moans of pure passion intermixed with pain.

He dropped you back on the bed and stood at the end, parting your thighs once more with his legs. You thoughtlessly wrap them around him pulling him closer almost instant as if it was a natural reaction. You were too out of breath to speak; you could only mumble 3 words “I'll be good”. Homelander leans into the bed, a hand placed at either side of your face as he enters you.

With your legs wrapped around him and his hands not holding you down, you were now free to meet his thrusts with your own, something he did not expect. He stopped for a moment and watched as you had become what he made you. Craving him, only wanting him, and willing to do anything for it. His body was rigid and still as you bucked and rocked underneath him, trying to meet his pelvis with your own thrusts when his right hand reaches over and closes over your throat He enters you. “Fuck!” you whisper in a harsh tone, unable to fully speak. He shoves his throbbing member into your cunt, squeezing your neck tighter with every slam into you, you fuck him back looking into his eyes as you moan his name.

He sucks in through his teeth and lets out a long sigh, loosening his grip on your neck. “Now be a good girl and finish me off” he says in a deep whisper. You nod your head in agreement, wanting it just as bad as he did. He lightly pecks your lips before releasing his grip and lying next to you. You lift your legs to straddle him on the bed, knees pressed to his hips. His hands wander to your chest, squeezing and pulling the flesh. With your hands placed firmly on his abdomen, you allow yourself to sit down on him, giving yourself he time to adjust to him, which he had not done. He thought this to be tedious. Were you teasing him? He would not allow it. His hands reach out and grip your hips, pushing you onto him. There was nothing you could do; his strength was unimaginable. The power of his cock expanding you within was a testament to this.

You didn't need him to push you down, you thought. You would happily ride him regardless of the pain. This was worth it, something you didn't know you needed and never thought you wanted. The earlier nights troubles were miles away in your mind, you could only think about him now, pleasing him. You felt a yearning for him brew deeply within your loins, and a longing in your heart.

You propped yourself up, crouching above him on your feet, still stranding him. Your body had accepted him now, and you were wetter than ever, sopping around his manhood. Each bounce met with a loud exhausted moan from you, and a wet slap could be heard echoing off the walls of the room. Music to Homelanders ears, internalizing you moans. Mesmerizing to hear, indifferent to the pain it may have caused you.

With your arms outstretched behind you gripping his thighs, you bounced on him, each time taking him in fully, rocking forward, as you did. The brush of his pubic hair against your clit as you grinded into him sent you into hysterics. You began slamming yourself on top of him, breathing heavily. He used his hands to cup your breasts and playfully tug at your nipples as you found your climax. He had never heard someone scream so loud while taking his cock. Your pace slowed as your orgasm took over, your body convulsing with every contraction of your cunt around him. “You’re not done yet!” he growled “How greedy” he chuckled maliciously. His words barely registered in your fucked out brain, still swimming from the intensity of your climax.

“I said you're not done yet! Keep going!” He said in an insistent and unsympathetic manner, slapping your breasts, leaving a large red hand print that stung. He then grabbed your face, pinching your cheeks in his hand and pulling you down. “Fuck me.” You immediately slink back and do as you are told. His good girl. Taken aback by exhaustion and overstimulated, but not wanting to disappoint this work of perfection, not wanting to disappoint The Homelander, you find the strength to continue on. You use all of your strength incomparable to his, to please him, hoping it was good, that it was enough. You were eager to please him and wanted your reward for it.

You planted yourself on him, over and over again, easing his tip in and out each time. His hands had reached to your backside, clutching the flesh in each fist, pulling you forward with each fall. Looking into his eyes, those piercing sapphire blue eyes sparkling with adoration. You watched as his lashes futtered and his face scrunched, his lips parting as he looked down watching himself slide in and out of you, hands latched onto you. He lets out a low breathy grunt, and his hands go limp on your cheeks, his eyes roll back. You reveled in the moment, soaking up the feeling of him spasming inside you while bursts of his seed shot deep within you. His cum dripping out and collecting around the base as you continued to slowly fuck him. Each burst causing his body to buck and convulse. You maintained your gaze on him, seeing him in his weakest moments. It was sweet. This man you had feared, turned from a monster into something beautiful to you. He was this anamorphic being you could now see clearly. He wanted to be loved, adored, cared for, appreciated, and feared. You wanted to be that person for him. You didn't want to let go or cease this moment.

He helped you off of him, and you lay sprawled out on the bed. A mess of exhaustion. Pearls of his essence are still leaking out. He sat calmly next to you, enjoying the last bit of euphoria from this high as his orgasm subsided. A coy smile crossed his lips as he caressed the side of your face with his fingers. With no explanation and no words spoken, he left. Just like that. Out the balcony door and into the cloudy night. Still in a daze, you lay there admiring the bites, bruises, scratches, and hand prints that freckled your body, playfully tracing along all the marks he gifted you. Waiting eagerly for is return.

#smut #pink dream ganja queen #female reader #homelander smut #the homelander #homelander x you #homelander #homelander fanfiction #homelander x reader #homelander x fem reader #homelander x oc #homelander the boys #the boys #the homelander x fem reader #watch what happens #reader pov #wwh #Ao3 #homelander x fem!reader

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everythingne · 5 months ago

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ➛ wing damage ch 3 (mv1)

Australia ends up hotter than expected when Nadine finds herself in a mess of unwanted feelings left over from her fun night in Monaco. Max isn't too confused about how he feels, he just knows he shouldn't be feeling it.

halliwell!reader x max verstappen / fc : sophia la corte

warnings/notes: I UPDATED THE PAST CHAPTERS. PLEASE READ THOSE BEFORE THIS!! holy fuck i finally got this out? yippee!! pretty chill chapter compared to the last few. mentions of alcohol,weird flirting, overprotective max

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1, charles.leclerc, and 450k more...

nadinehalliwell: bring ur eldest daughter to work day (australia edition)

user1: we love and support the halliwells in this house ‼️

user2: literally redbull royalty.

gerihalliwell: My good luck charm!! Looking beautiful.

⤷ nadinehalliwell: ily mama ♥️

monanotlisa: AAAAA SEXY!!! LOVE UUUU COME BACK TO MONACO SOON ♥️‼️‼️

⤷ nadinehalliwell: if u let me drive the porsche i’ll be back asap.

⤷ monanotlisa: ur such a whore for a porsche 911

⤷ nadinehalliwell: ITS A BABY PINK PORSCHE 911 GT3 WITH WHITE INTERIORS. EVERYONES A SLUT FOR IT.

allycameragirl: OMGGG 😭 BACK ON THE TRACK BABYYY ‼️‼️ SEE YOU IN AUSTINNN!!!

⤷ thenadinehorner: CANT WAIT MY LOVE ♥️♥️♥️

Australia is hot. Blazing hot. I've decided for the next several months to spend time with my mother and sisters, travelling the world and distancing myself from the hell that is home for a bit. Even with my roommates at home with me, my apartment in Monaco doesn't feel like a home.

Ally's not home half the time, too busy being a bit shot movie producer, and Mona's got a huge job lined up. We're never home together anyways. Even though we all love each other to bits, we're all living such different lives. Maybe we should just go our own ways again.

It was nice to live together even for a bit, though.

Dipping into the garage, I pass Checo and give him a fist bump before finding Max and whack his shoulder. GP laughs softly as I dramatically drape myself across Max's back, popping my head atop his as he huffs.

"How's it going, Mad Max?" I muse, "New racing strats?"

I can hear the grin in Max's voice as he says, "Nothing I'm telling you, paddock princess."

"Paddock princess? Excuse me, do I look like George Russell?" I huff, which gets a full body laugh from GP and a decent one from Max as I pry myself off his back and come to just sit next to him like a normal person.

"What's the occasion for the dress? Just the paddock fashion?" Max looks up and down the pink sundress I'm wearing and I perk up, happily blabbing on about how I'd bought the dress in Sydney a few days before the race and wanted something to wear to the race and the part tonight.

"What party?" Max asks, leaning over to fix a hair thats gotten stubbornly stuck to my earring.

"My mom is having a yacht party tonight for all the teams to celebrate the beginning of the season. She couldn't do it in Saudi or Bahrain because of how busy we all were." I look at the notes Max is focused on reading, even though they make little sense to me. GP excuses himself to speak with Hannah, leaving Max and I alone in the little outcove of the garage.

"Ah." Max sighs as a mechanic moves past, tossing a helmet to his colleague as they set up to do some sort of extraction training. Max catches my attention as he says, "and I take it I'm set to attend this?"

"Of course you are. My mom would be devastated without her 'eldest son' there, right?" I lean over to peck a kiss on his cheek as I stand up and brush off my dress as if it'll have anything on it, "gotta run off and find my mom, I'm helping her with media."

"Good luck." Max smiles to me and I can't help the grin that finds my lips as I whisper back the same words and rush down the garage hall to hide the blush that threatens to run up my chest to my face.

There's no fucking way I'm letting this get to me. No, no, no. What Max and I had done was a mistake, and that was how it would stay. Some drunken mistake I thought about a bottle or two deep on a friday night.

I did not love Max Verstappen, and that was that.

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, monanotlisa, and 850k others...

nadinehalliwell: my photographer @ maxverstappen <3

user1: cannot get over how much she actually looks like geri.

user2: MOTHERRRR

maxverstappen: stop drinking all the champagne the party hasnt started yet !!

⤷ nadinehalliwell: no <3

user3: i swear every story post of nadine recently has been her drinking

charlesleclerc: very pink today

gerihalliwell: so so pretty!!

user4: UGH SHES SO PRETTY LET ME BE HER.

By sundown the party was in full swing. The yacht massive, even by my mothers standards, but comfortable enough to fit everyone with room for plus ones and random additions to the roster. Leaving the bar I make my way to the little longue chair area on the top deck, waving happily to some of the drivers and such who mill about up there.

As I go to snag my spot between Max and Charles again, I'm intercepted by one of the newer Sky News reporters. I peeked over his shoulder from the conversation he had left, and saw some people just casually milling about. So I felt a bit better about this random guy coming up to me.

But, from the corner of my eye, I could see Max lean forward a bit more.

"Hello, sorry, I don't think we've met." He holds out a hand with a small grin as he looks me over, "I'm Luke."

"Luke, I'm Nadine, it's nice to meet you." I shook his hand, keeping my eyes firm on his face as he then chooses to keep his eyes firm on my mine. His eyes light up, as if he's realized exactly who he's talking to and it makes me want to scream. Of course.

"Geri's daughter, correct?" He grins and I nod, biting the inside of my cheek as I curl my hand a bit tighter around the fruity little margarita I got from the bar, "Wow, it's great to meet you. I'm sorry about everything that's been happening to you within the past few months, that must be rough.."

"It's been rough but I've got a good support system here, and I'm here with my family too, so they've been very helpful." I keep up the usual wall I keep up with any reporter. I know Luke notices, at the tick of his jaw, but he doesn't say anything else.

"That's good. I'm really glad to hear they're supportive." Luke smiles, "other than doing media for Red Bull, what do you do for work?"

"Just influencer stuff. I post fashion, beauty, and lifestyle content on social media, mostly Youtube, TikTok and Instagram. I also have a podcast on Spotify." I use my usual elevator pitch, "I pay for everything using the creator fund, sponsorships, and other means of ad revenue."

"The whole -- creator fund thing, thats fascinating to me." Luke starts to talk, continuing on and on. The more he talks, the more I begin to realize that this guy just wants to blab on and on about himself. I nod, keeping my interest as he talk about reporting and doing media, and then asking if I do it too.

"I've done some sort work for Sky News before. When Seb did the beehives I was one of the reporters over there with him, which was nice because he and Mark kinda raised me a bit and I hadn't seen him in a while." I smile and Luke nods, and before he even says anything I can tell he's about to try something stupid

"Well, someone as gorgeous as you would definetely be succesful in any field." Luke grins, taking a sip of what I think is an Old Fashioned in hand before his grin falls to a smirk, "and man in charge would be an idiot to not promote a face like yours."

I don't dignify him with any answer. Taking a long sip of my drink as my eyes are level with him. I can tell he's nervous at my lack of response, but before he can talk, Luke's eyes flicker to the side of my head. He squints before a firm, warm hand is pressed to the small of my back.

"Sorry to interrupt," Max smiles placidly, his hand sliding to grip onto my hip, his fingers warm against the skin of the cutout of my dress and sending a shiver down my spine, "but Miss Halliwell here has a certain seat she needs to snag again."

"No worries." Luke gives a stiff response, before turning away with a soft goodbye over his shoulder. Max turns me and tucks me back against his chest as he leans down to ask, "You alright?"

"Yeah. He was just a weirdo." I roll my eyes as he guides my back to my seat, securing me between him and Charles once more, and I happily fall back into conversation.

Not failing to notice the fact Max's hand never leaves my back.

"Max Emilian Verstappen, I swear to god." My voice rings across the quiet hotel room, nails clicking on my cracked phone screen as I type a reply to his comment. Charles laughs softly, his hand pausing midway through fixing my hair as he looks over at my hungover state in my bed. Thanks to him and Carlos, I managed to get back from the yacht party last night with all my belongings and my dignity.

"You're getting full named." He says to Max as if he isn't actively ignoring my complaints. I watch Max peek at my tiny lump in the blankets behind him in the mirror he stands in front of, the back of his hair still drying from the shower. We had to leave for the flight back home within an hour and I was still laying in a ball, still nauseous, still tired and aching.

"Because of the reporter?" He asks, turning his head to Charles who smiles at him with a shrug.

"What was so bad about him?" I ask, "You and Charles are all up in arms about it! I don't even know what he said that was so outlandish!"

"He looked like a damn predator." Max says and if I wasn't as nauseous as I was from blacking out last night (not my proudest moment) I would've chucked a pillow at his head, "and I can't control Charles."

Charles laughs, moving from the mirror to come sit at my side, letting me pop my head onto his lap as he absentmindedly toys with my hair, before he starts braiding it back for the flight home and I groan and cuddle into his touch. Charles was basically my new brother at this point, ever since I moved to Monaco last year.

"He flirted with her infront of everyone, I don't take back my attitude about this." Max turns around, walking over and kneeling in front of me. Brushing the side of my face to feel the heat from my red cheeks, "did you even drink water, Nadi?"

"It was kinda funny!" I protest, careful not to move too much as Charles' nails run along my scalp to collect little sections of my hair, "and I did drink water, and Gatorade. I had like... four big bottles of Gatorade."

"Drink more." Max sits now, long legs folding under himself as he sighs, "before your mom kills me for letting you go out with us."

"Oh hush, you're more of her kid now than I am." I grumble out a complaint before Charles taps my shoulder so I sit up and roll to the other side so he can braid it too. Before Max can reply, the door is knocked on and I close my eyes--pretending to be asleep is easier than being hungover.

"Geri, hey!" Max calls at the door and I groan, Geri suppressing a laugh into a soft huff through her nose. Sitting me up slowly, Charles used the comforter to hide my dress that I was still in, and I curled a bit deeper into its warmth and his touch.

I would literally do anything for Charles in this moment.

"Morning, morning," my mother gives Max a tight hug, the two more mother and son now that team owner and racer. As she comes into the room, she laughs at my burrito, leaning over to peck my forehead.

"Late night?" She asks and I grunt in response. My mother shrugs her bag off one shoulder and digs in it--handing me a water bottle and a thing of Advil.

"Yes, Mama. And I love you." I say as I take the items, popping two Advil and washing it down with the entire bottle of water.

“Mhm.” Geri laughs, taking the empty bottle and tossing it as she shoves the Advil back in her bag, “and you love liquor more.”

“Mama, they had soju.”

“My daughter’s an alcoholic.” Geri huffs as he stands and Max laughs. I made grabby hands at her much like I would when I was a kid and she was my lifeline.

“Oh, she’s very hungover.” another voice calls, before someone comes running into the room and tackles me to the bed.

“Daniel!” I complain, hitting him as I writhe under his weight, “get off!”

“Stop talking to that reporter, and I’ll get off.”

“What is it with him? I’ve been seeing stuff online.” Geri pops her bags down next to Max’s, watching as Max climbs on top of Daniel—effectively putting about three hundred pounds on my already nauseated self while Charles just laughs.

“Did you see that guy yesterday?” Daniel says, whacking Max’s head, and begrudgingly both of my pseudo brothers climb off of me. But Daniel is hungover as well, I can see it in his eyes, so I let him stay on the bed while we shove Max off. Giggling when the Dutch driver unceremoniously thumps to the floor.

“The reporter was flirting with me, apparently.” I shrug, leaning forward to lay my entire body weight on Charles who grunts in response.

“Apparently? He called you gorgeous!”

“Could be a compliment.” Geri smiles, looking over at Max to gage his reaction. He looks less than pleased.

"Alright, well, come on. We have to be at the airport in like... an hour or they won't let us take off until later." Max huffs, taking Daniel's hand to help him up and then Charles. The two of them grab most of the bags and before I know it we're at the airport, me using my Airpod Max's on their soundproof mode to keep my headache at bay. Luckily it doesn't take long for us to get on Max's jet, and my mother takes me to where the bed is so I can sleep.

The little bedroom has a door to close too, so my mom sets herself up on a chair to answer her emails and shuts the door so the boys can be louder without bothering me.

Which, leaves Max, Daniel, and Charles alone towards the front of the jet. Charles stretches out, sitting on a chair next to Max as Daniel sits across from Max.

"Nadine looked sick," Max sighs, running a hand through his hair as he takes a long sip of water, "and I know turbulence gets to her stomach, so I imagine it's worse now that we're in the air."

"I'm sure she's fine, Max. Geri's in there with her." Daniel hums, looking over at the door as if reminding himself of that.

"How do you even remember turbulence gets to her?" Charles yawns, taking a sip of his own water in turn with Max. Leaning back in his chair as he watches Max.

"I just... I dunno. I remember weird shit like that." Max shrugs, looking out the window as they dip through the clouds. He looks back at his two friends, who are sharing looks, and he raises his eyebrows, "what?"

"Why did that Luke guy piss you off so much? Nadine has dealt with her fair share of sleazy reporters." Charles finally bites the bullet and asks, making Daniel raise his eyebrows in shock over the question being asked, and Max sighs.

"Do you really wanna know why that Luke guy pissed me off?" Max murmurs against the rim of his water bottle and both Charles and Daniel nod.

"Because he was flirting with her." Max shrugs softly, capping his bottle and setting it down and he leans back and stretches his back. His hands run through his hair, tugging on it, and closing his eyes as he sighs.

Daniel picks up where Charles left off, "But he flirted with a lot of girls, and it didn't bother you, but the second he set his eyes on Nadine? Why did you get so pissed off?"

"I really don't know but..." Max's voice is almost dark, "Oh, god, it was like seeing red. And he was flirting with her so boldly, in front of everyone, like he owned Nadine and it pissed me off."

"And you still think you don't like her?" Charles groans, kicking Max under the table, "you're so dense."

"I can't like her, you guys know how it is. Geri would fucking kill me, that's her daughter." Max complains and when Charles and Daniel raise their eyebrows he groans and slumps back, "okay, alright, fine. Maybe."

"Maybe?!" Daniel exclaims, getting hushed by the other two. And as Charles carries on the teasing, Max can't do anything more than gnaw on the inside of his cheek and try to swallow his smile.

He's in love with you, and that is that.

taglist (thank you, and I know this taglist is old, so if you'd like to be removed you can send me a message or an ask!)

@itsponybeaches @awritingtree @1655clean @biitch-with-wifi @heesungthel0ml @newlifeforus @rosegasly @sideboobrry11 @formulaal @justalittlejess

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agender-witchery · 1 year ago

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On Project Moon

Hey, this is gonna be long, I'm putting most of it under the cut. This post is about the recent firing of VellMori from Project Moon, I know that it warrants some tags for triggers, but I have no idea what's commonly used, so if I miss something, please tell me.

Additionally, I have written this up in a way that if it escapes the target audience of Project Moon fans, it can still be understood, so with that in mind, there will be Library of Ruina spoilers.

The tl;dr for those who don't wanna read the full thing is that Project Moon was put in a very bad position with some violent extremists targeting them and that I'm not happy about any of what happened.

So, for those unaware, Project Moon has fired VellMori, the CG artist for Limbus Company. Now, a not inaccurate statement that can be made from this is "Project Moon fired a woman for being a feminist" but this is... somewhat reductive. Let's immediately get out of the way that VellMori did absolutely nothing wrong. Some people have said she is a TERF. I've seen no evidence of this. Some people have said she wished death on all men. I've seen no evidence of this.

What I HAVE seen is that VellMori thinks sexual abuse is bad. Now, why would this lead to a firing? The short answer is that a bunch of violent incels, one of which was literally dressed as a clown, came knocking at their office doors.

See, Limbus Company has a "beach" event coming up. In this event, we are getting a water themed outfit for two of the characters, one male and one female. For Sinclair, the guy, he has been given an EXTREMELY slutty mechanic's outfit. For Ishmael, the woman, she has been given a very skintight wet suit outfit. Now, I wanna take care to note that VellMori is the CG artist - she had no hand in these designs, a man made them. I would also like to mention that both outfit designs are amazing, and I will be including them at the end of this post for reference.

Now, upon revealing the wet suit design for Ishmael, a bunch of whiny incels on what is basically Korean 4chan got upset that Ishmael, instead of being in a bikini as is usual for gacha games, was wearing a wet suit. Nevermind that the designs in Limbus Company have always been conservative and that the Sinclair design is the most skin we've ever seen and it's just an open shirt. Again, the wet suit is still super revealing, it's skin tight and this is literally the first design of her that doesn't make her look flat chested. They're not rioting over the lack of sex appeal, they're specifically mad that it's not a bikini.

The incels come to the conclusion that the lack of any skin being shown on Ishmael's outfit is a result of evil feminism. No, I'm not exaggerating. They initially begin harassing the artist who is actually responsible for drawing the outfits, but upon learning that he is a man, set their sights on VellMori because she's a woman, and being an artist is good enough I guess. What they do from here is they start digging and digging and digging on VellMori's twitter, making use of archived pages because many of the "offensive" tweets had been deleted.

I'd like to take a moment to point out that VellMori never actually tweeted anything out here - it was all retweets from a 4-6 year old archive, and retweets that have been long deleted. These retweets contain such transgressive statements as "I'm sick of misogyny" and "If being against patriarchy makes me antisocial, then so be it" and just... mirroring back to men what those men were saying to women. Some people would like to have you think she was calling for death to all men. She wasn't. She ALSO retweeted all this stuff while she was a teenager and well before she worked for Project Moon.

Nonetheless, the incels had decided that feminism was the reason Ishmael had a wet suit and not a bikini and they had found a feminist working for Project Moon. It is at this point that we must take a brief detour and talk about Library of Ruina, Project Moon's previous game.

See, in Library of Ruina, one of the protagonists, Angela, has this whole arc about escaping her abuser and becoming a human. Yes, she is literally a robot, but Project Moon isn't exactly a stranger to symbolism in their stories and a feminist reading of Angela is ridiculously easy. The main antagonist in Library of Ruina is Argalia, the Blue Reverberation, and his crew is called the Reverberation Ensemble. Every member of the Reverberation Ensemble is a violent lunatic who each want to reinforce the status quo in their own unique shitty way. In addition to this, typically in order to reach the titular Library, you would need to be invited. The Reverb Ensemble are the "uninvited guests", the ones who managed to reach the Library and knock down the door without an invite.

Why am I talking about this? Well, the incels decided to start calling themselves the Reverb Ensemble, and referring to each other using names of the Reverb Ensemble members such as Pluto, Elena, and Oswald. Having taken on the moniker of the uninvited guests, they then showed up to Project Moon's office to protest. Over the lack of a bikini. Now, remember how I mentioned someone was dressed up as a clown? One of the Reverb Ensemble members, Oswald, is a clown with an extremely tenuous grip on reality. So much so, that his ideal world is one in which there is no meaning whatsoever. That is the character they chose to dress up as. This is either a case of extreme self awareness or extreme self unawareness.

Eventually, the incels were let into the office possibly as a form of damage mitigation to prevent the crowd of protestors from getting any bigger. This was a questionable decision, but they had a group of violent incels at their doorstep either way, and I don't exactly have full details on this. Regardless, Project Moon had on their hands a group of violent protesting incels, who they felt compelled to let into the building, and who had demands including the firing of their feminist employee. (7/28 update: a translation of the transcript posted to DCInside has surfaced. Please check the reblogs for it. Project Moon was verifiably threatened.)

So while "Project Moon fired a woman for being a feminist" isn't inaccurate it also isn't the full picture. More appropriately, it'd be "Project Moon fired a woman because a group of violent incels who weren't satisfied with a form fitting wet suit instead of a bikini showed up to their office demanding that an artist who did not make the wet suit design be fired because she retweeted some feminist stuff 5 years ago while she was a teenager".

I'm not happy with this. None of this is good. People are allowed to be feminists, and Project Moon stories have always presented progressive ideas to anyone with half a brain to do some basic literary analysis. I can understand why they would cave to the demands of people who were threatening them and showed up to their actual place of work, but at the same time, that's someone's livelihood gone and proof that in the future, the same sorts of people can use the same sorts of tactics to bully Project Moon into doing whatever they want. All of this sucks.

For those who would like to see the retweets in question alongside translations: https://twitter.com/danghwangs/status/1683884236888223744

And for people who would like reference as to what the artworks these incels were up in arms about, Ishmael in the wet suit and Sinclair in the mechanic's outfit.

#limbus company #project moon #VellMori #misogyny #library of ruina #im tiny puppy

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sunnyseungup · 9 months ago

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Bang Chan | fic recs 2

Stray kids | Bang Chan

Masterlist | part 1

[ updated 240727 ]

You look so perfect standing there… { f } 0,9k @hanichani

Vampire Chan BF { s, f } @sweetracha

yours to keep { f } 1,7k @echo-rambles

Dream You { f, s } 4k @charmercharm3r

He cheated on you— in your dreams, then took kiss it better too literally.

“pink promise” { office, f2l; f, s } 4,6k @chnsbm

Your favorite coworker comforts you after a particularly bad meeting and you realize he might be your favorite for more reasons than one

Monarchs: Blood Favors { vampire Chan; s } 10,8k @abiaswreck

Chan is a great leader. You’ve known him your whole life. You trust him. You also trust him to teach you new things after things escalate between you.

“Tell me all about it…” { f, s } 1,2k @chnsbm

Hike { f } 3,2k @kobiebear

Hoodie season { f } 1,4k @candlewaxandp0lar0ids

You're not stealing Chan's hoodies. He's not happy about it.

Emotional Support Animal { WereRoomies series; f, hurt/comfort } ~2k @therhythmafterthesummer

Five-Point Star: The Aftermath { bodyguard/assassin Channie; s, f, a } ~17k @/therhythmafterthesummer

secret santa { f } 1,4k @37-drc89

Piece of The Past { domestic; a, f, h/c } 2,1k @thevampywolf

Spark Plugs { mechanic Channing; f } 1,5k @f9clementine

The Perfect Couple { f, ~a } 1,8k @/thevampywolf

Easy Like A Sunday Morning { a, f } 2,7k @dreamescapeswriting

So Then Kiss Me { mafia; s } 5k @/dreamescapeswriting

Mad { f, s } @becomingmina

texting bang chan happy father’s day @scoupsofjisung

Nothing But You [ s2l, hybrid au; s, a ] 1,4k @violetsiren90

The world's not ready for your love, but that doesn't matter. None of it matters - nothing but him.

Note: please let me know if the links are not working! I will try to fix them as soon as possible ^^

#stray kids #stray kids masterlist #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #stray kids recs #bang chan angst #bang chan smut #bang chan fluff #bang chan #stray kids bang chan

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comfortless · 11 months ago

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syl. *grabs you and shakes you* syl. i woke up in a cold sweat thinking of like… könig. already off to a great start ik. but space opera könig. (not like star wars or anything) but think like 70s aesthetics all bright and colorful. he’s a bandit in a stolen ship, formerly part of a military group making peace with other planets but something went awry and he’s just having fun now!

reader is part of a small research group that has landed on a planet he’s camped out on and he’s just like “ok” followed by “i want that”. steals all of her supplies and then her. doesn’t care how much she protests when he just hauls her over his shoulder, pats her butt bc he thinks THATS going to calm her down and throws her into his ship.

she’s happy he’s not some creepy alien but at the same time who really knows what’s under that hood anyway hmmmm and she wants to hate him but also all that’s playing in her head is that one rah band song. messages from the stars lmao please. there is something in the way you write that is so special to me and if you were to come up with a full blown story for my dumb idea i think i would scream for 20 hours straight.

lil wisp….. you have no idea what this has done to me. i am going to be thinking about this for an eternity. let’s cook.. i see your vision and i would love nothing more than this too!!

content/warnings: implied violence, abduction, dubcon groping?

König’s been on his own, drifting through the stars for so long. Only raiding the ships he comes across for food, supplies, and when he stumbles across a mechanic he puts them to work with a silly laser rifle pointed right at their head (because let’s face it— when you’re a wanted space pirate who in the universe is going to fix your ship for you??). He’s put all of human etiquette far behind him, and now his life is quite literally just one relentless adventure. He wouldn’t have it any other way!

That is, until his ship is fucked up again, displaying about thirty bright red warnings on its silly hologram screens that he just can not make sense of. The thing is old, has been shot at more times than even he can count, and it’s finally failing him if the loud sputtering and incessant orbital beeps are anything to go by. He considers his luck has run out when he lands the damned thing on some hunk of rock out on the outskirts of a galaxy most don’t even bother with, because there’s nothing out here.

Thankfully, his frustration is short-lived because a smaller ship lands only a few days later; painted in the bright, pearlescent blues and pinks of your standard peace-keeping, research vessel. It’s the perfect craft to steal and it wouldn’t even be difficult… the three humans that exit are so much smaller than him and entirely unguarded. They’re just here to study a few minerals, maybe haul some back to their little camp a few worlds over for fuel and research. He won’t even get into too much trouble for it, he thinks, because even his trashed ship could take them back home. See!! He isn’t all that bad…

At least, until he notices her, bent over admiring some silly, little cluster of crystals in her skin-tight jumpsuit that makes him see stars. The heavy boots that rise up to her knees making her look like little more than a fauness, and she’s so pretty he just can’t help but get a closer look while her teammates are off chittering away and exploring the nothing planet.

She isn’t even afraid of him when he approaches. Just straightens up with her hands clasped in front of her and a smile on her face. She hasn’t seen the holograms of him, displaying a sizable bounty for his veiled head, doesn’t take a wary note of the massive rifle he has slung over his shoulder; she just sees another person. He hasn’t been looked at like that since long before he left home!!

This sweet woman has no sense of self-preservation either, because she immediately asks him if he needs food or water; gestures over to her brightly colored ship with that pretty smile ever-present on her face, and that’s all it takes for him to decide that not only is he taking the craft, he’s taking her too.

He doesn’t say a word when he lifts her up over his shoulder, and the poor thing must be shocked because it takes her a moment before she starts squirming in his grip. König does well to remove the little radio strapped to her hip, giving her ass a firm squeeze in the process before tossing it in the dust behind him. That’s all it takes to shut his little prinzessin up before he hauls her back into her ship and demands she turn off any tracking systems. Her knees are a bit weak when she fumbles with the control panels, and he’s unashamed of his own erection when he slides in behind her to lean over the console as the ship starts up.

She whines about leaving her friends stranded, of course, but he’s in a world of his own when he grabs her by the hips and seats her in his lap while she pilots. Never mind the others, he’ll take good care of her, honest!!

#könig x you #könig x reader #konig #könig #messages from the stars… LOL… anon if i had the time to write a full blown fic of this rn i would but my god #i need to propose actually this is such a good concept…

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zumazozuma · 7 months ago

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Hey. FMA Fandom. I freaking did it ok.

Lan Fan's *FULL* automail design from the manga? Yeah. It now finally exists.

Please accept this humble offering as fanon:

NOW EVERYONE DRAW HER!!!

ARAKAWA I HOPE YOU'RE PROUD!!!!!!!

Edit: I thought I'd leave some manga panels to point out a few things I don't have the skills to successfully translate in this ref sheet!

Explanations under the cut!

The armor plates on the shoulder are bigger than what I drew (I tried to put them at an angle but they just look smaller lol) I recommend just enlarging the top plate from the middle! It's supposed to hide most of the upper arm.

If you draw her in full uniform, she of course has bandages and that cool spiky leather strand around her wrist. The spiky knuckles appear to be a separate accessory as well.

The automail isn't all open right on top of the forearm, but on its side, as you'll see in the manga panels. I should've drawn the hand seen from the side but I wanted to show the screw on top of it beheheh.

The thought process behind Lan Fan's automail appears to focus on being as light as possible so that she can keep fighting with speed. Compared to Ed's very solid and armored automail to be as enduring as possible, Lan Fan's trades durability for lightness!

The mechanism for the hidden blade is basically just rings inside the fingers, to which are attached wires that are tethered close to a tiny hook. My thought process behind this is that we most likely want to avoid accidentally unsheathing the blade, so LF has to literally reach for it! It's a safety measure, but I also like that it makes her do a hand move kinda similar to Scar's whenever he's about to use his alchemy/alkahestry destruction for an attack!

For the port, have fun with it! I tried my best to give it an interesting look but I struggled with giving it a 3D metal feel. I focused more instead on where the support would be since the port can't be drilled on most of the chest. Drilled on the back it is!

Finally, if you notice the tiny lock I inserted in the simplified design, no it's not made to render the arm immovable; rather it's just there to secure the automail in the port. You know, during the process to connect the nerves. You attach the little wires, screw the bolts, and lock it all in neatly!

With this, I hope everyone will have fun drawing Lan Fan's full automail! It may not be canon, but it's at least better than nothing! So many art pieces just hide her automail because of that lack of reference, so I hope I helped change that!

(Note: the scars I gave LF on her right shoulder and left side aren't canon either. I saw an art piece way back when and somehow convinced myself that I just had never noticed in the show lol. But you can't tell me the bodyguard to a prince that canonically survived a bunch of assassination attempts wouldn't have a scar or two!!)

NOW DRAW YOUR HEARTS AWAY!!!

#everyone draw this #save this as a reference #if you draw using this use the following tag so I can see #altans design #there is no reason to hide her shoulder anymore #lan fan #lanfan #fullmetal alchemist #fullmetalchemist #fma #fullmetal alchimist brotherhood #fma brotherhood #fmab #fma fanart #fanart #reference

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clubdionysus · 5 months ago

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[BAD DECISION #42] Hitting Where It Hurts

warnings: 'chess' :(, arguments, waaaa, jungkook is, once more, so painfully cewt :( perilla leaves! gasp... healthy... communication?? glitter koo! starluvrs <3

notes: im literally on a train back home from seoul as I schedule this, everyone say thank u korail wifi for being a bd enabler <3 but it's also why there's only one update again!! sorrryyy - I'll be better organised next week (famous last words)

wc: 8.7K

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

"Piss off," you hiss with lethal venom when Jeongguk chases after you.

Shaking off the light grip he has on your arm. You continue walking away, not really where you're heading to. Away. That's all you can think of. All you want. Space. Separation

The skies above you are grey; clouds hiding away the early evening sun that's due to paint the skies in pretty purple bruises to match the ones on your heart.

"Byeol-" He tries again, voice desperate.

You turn to face him, arms folded over your chest, and are greeted with the exact same Jeongguk you had just stormed away from.

"I said to piss off. "

Chest bare, shorts on his lower half, he's everything that makes you salivate - and yet you feel sick, now. Hair damp, the small sheen of red looks buffed out, as if she tried to smudge it away while in pursuit of you - but the stain lingers. It always does.

Jeongguk's arms outstretch, then slap back down to his sides. He shakes his head in a little disbelief, as if he's the one questioning you. Is agitated in his tone when he speaks.

"Whatever you think just happened, didn't . You can't just storm off-"

"Oh, but I can," you smile at him, as if your eyes aren't thinly veiled daggers.

Turning on your heel once more, you decide against giving him the time of day.

Blood running far too hot within you veins, you know you'll only do damage if you discuss things with him now - but Jeongguk knows he has to talk about it with you now, otherwise you'll just try and sweep it under the carpet when you've cooled down.

It's how you always do it; hot in your immediate fury and frightfully cold in the aftermath.

A defence mechanism taught and reinforced by past relationships, it continues to wreck your ability to deal with things healthily. Whenever your ex would fuck up, he'd refuse to speak about it, and frustrate you to absolutely no end. Would anger you, and still, nothing. So you'd mellow. Give up trying.

The process is so worn into your existence now that you don't even realise why you get so annoyed in the first place, only to act like it's no big deal a little while later. Think that is just natural; that hurt, like a bomb, just explodes. Is white hot, until it's not, and all you're left with is debris and destruction.

"Please," Jeongguk says quietly.

Doesn't want to draw attention to what's happening. Other people don't need to know your business. Wants that bubble you were both in earlier to remain protected - but the lock has been picked, and the steel reinforcements are starting to collapse. It's only a matter of time until it all comes crashing down.

"No," is all you say.

"It wasn't what it looked like."

"It doesn't matter," you say softly, trying to respond rationally - but it comes across as a little psychotic. You know damn well it does.

Casting your eyes down to the ground, a slight shake to your head. The air around you is cold, waves crashing against the shoreline. It's a sombre state of affairs; the skies just as grey as your heart.

Walking a little closer towards Jeongguk, it seems as if the chill in the air has settled the red-hot blood screeching in your veins. Comes as a surprise to you both.

You're learning, or so it would seem.

Just because he continually makes the same mistakes of the past doesn't mean you will, too. You've a point to prove.

You sigh. Shrug your shoulders. Fuck it.

"Look," you offer with an air of maturity, trying a more level-headed approach.

It gets his head tilting. Was expecting war, and was perfectly willing to battle against it just for you to hear his truth. This... this is new.

"I don't know what led to the scene I walked in on - but I do know that you made consecutive, considered choices to get there," you assert. "What I saw is a product of your own choices and your total lack of consideration for me, Gguk. So, I don't wanna hear it. Save it for someone who cares - cause if you don't give a shit about me, why should I give one about you."

Okay, so maybe that air of maturity is a little clouded with childishness. So what?

"That's not fair," he pleads, needy in his tone, eyes soft as he tries to convey just how painfully he wishes he could undo it all - not that he even thinks he's done anything wrong. "Let me-"

"Maybe it's not fair," you admit, cutting him off with a sad shrug of your shoulders. At this point, you're not willing to discuss it rationally in any depth, but you also don't want to argue. Not really. Will only cause you more hurt. "But it is what it is. I'll see you at dinner."

"B, c'mon just hear-"

"Chess."

Ouch .

He shuts up immediately. Looks at you with such excruciating pain you wouldn't be surprised to see the red smudge on his chest begin to trickle with blood. Doesn't understand how a day that started in him declaring just how much he likes you is ending like this.

Perhaps that's the issue. Maybe he was toying with the strings of fate a little too prematurely. They might just be snapping back into place. That's all.

This is exactly why you knew better than to make any admission of your feelings.

Jeongguk's intentions are never bad, but sometimes his decisions are. Sometimes the choices he makes are the wrong ones.

You wish he would have chosen you.

In that moment, regardless of what transpired, you wish he would have chosen you.

Taken a step back, and said 'no .'

But he didn't.

And so you don't care for his excuses or his explanations. You don't care for the truth, because you're already reeling in your own.

Jeon Jeongguk is too good to be true.

You've always known this. He's too kind. Too funny. Too handsome. There always had to be a catch, and you've learned it the hard way: he's too forgiving.

And so you'll take it upon yourself to be everything he's not.

You'll be unkind. You'll find no humour in his jokes. Won't forgive him for how foolish he's made you feel.

Scatter-brained, you can't make heads or tails of your emotions. Pangs of heat, of burning anger, flare up and cool instantly. You're shades of red and green, and looking at Jeongguk only gets them muddled. Murky.

"Can you stop being like this?" Jeongguk eventually sighs, exasperated by his own desperation. "You know-"

"I'm not being like anything," you say, voice flat. "I just don't want to have this conversation right now."

"But we need to have this conversation," he replies immediately. His eyes scan your face, trying to get a read on you - but you're stoic. Refuse to give anything away. Spent your university years playing poker with your housemates. Can keep this up all night, if you really need to.

"No. What we need, Jeongguk, is-"

"To talk," he interrupts. "You won't even let me explain myself."

"Because I don't need an explanation," you insist, indifference just as hurtful as anger. "Look, it's fine. Consider that little label we agreed on earlier on a free trial. Money back guarantee if returned within five working days."

"I don't want my fucking money back," he spits, finally raising his voice a little. Knows you've the ability to be unreasonable, but rarely ever has to deal with it. Is used to your brattiness, but normally only when in pursuit of gratification. This is different. There's no pleasure gained from this, for either of you.

"It's already been deposited into your bank," you say with a smile. "Shame."

You don't want anything from him right now. Not even this conversation. Just want him to piss off, exactly like you told him to earlier.

"Fine," he snaps back.

"Fine!"

"Oh, grow up," he snarls, turning on his heel and heading back toward the house you'd both just left.

Typical. Always goes back.

But then the reality of his words weigh down on your chest.

Words uttered to you in the height of your glitterless days, when your heart used to get toyed around with sharp claws belonging to a man who'd look at you with kitten-like innocence.

Grow up.

Jeongguk pauses. Turns to face you. There's a shock to his expression. Surprise, as if he wasn't the one who just uttered words that he knows will tear apart the now-healed wounds left by Seokjin.

Silence lingers in the air between you. Down by the shore, the waves crash and crescendo, fading out into the abyss until they inevitably repeat as they always do.

There's a comfort to the ocean.

It's vast, and terrifying, yes, but it's also ever predictable. The waves will always roll. The creatures will always swim. The current will always change. Predictably unpredictable is the ocean, and you like it that way.

You've always thought you liked change. Liked the excitement that came with it.

Sitting here now, you realise you hate change. Hate what you can't control.

You wonder what Jeongguk's thinking about. If he's thinking at all, or if he's just focusing on the sound of the waves, too. If his heart feels just as horrible as yours does. It's as if he's taken it and rolled it around in the sand. It's gritty. Grainy. Marred in remnants of lifetimes lived before you came to be.

You want it back. Want to rinse your heart out in the waves that are rolling in, and place it back in your chest. You don't care if it will sting. Don't care about anything else - you just don't want to feel so stupid all the fucking time.

This is exactly why you weren't supposed to fall for Jeongguk. This is why it was never supposed to elevate to more than what it was. This is why it was so stupid of you to indulge in the idea of what if.

Shaking your head, eyes warm with tears that you refuse to let fall, you feel like you have nothing left to give.

But you do have the ability to bite back just as hard. You know you shouldn't - but you're hurt, and you want to hurt him too.

"You sound just like him."

If you thought Jeongguk looked devastated before, then you've no idea how to describe the way he falls apart now.

Though he remains on his feet, body strong, his eyes sink into a darkness you've never known. His posture slopes. Everything about him reduces like wood to ash in the midst of a forest fire. 'Anguish' sounds far too violent for the gentle way in which Jeongguk quietly crumbles, but it's the only thing that's remotely apt for his current expression.

"Don't compare me to him," he says. Swallows. "It's not fair."

But love and war never is.

"Don't do the same shit he did," you counter. "Then maybe I won't."

No goodbye is offered as you turn on your heel and head towards the house that Danbi's been staying in.

Jeongguk doesn't try to stop you this time. For some reason, even though you don't want to speak to him, you find that it only hurts even more.

But no matter how hurt you may feel, Danbi promises to hurt him tenfold.

"That little git," she hisses, quite frankly shocked by not only the argument you've just explained but also the circumstances that lead to it. She thinks perhaps he's self-sabotaging now that things are too good. Thinks, more likely, that he's just a twat who thinks with his dick.

And as much as she could rant and rave about how much of a swine he is, and how little he deserves you, it's not a conversation you want to be having.

She promises not to shout out at him - "I'm only doing this for Seoyeon and Yoongi. Anywhere else and I'd curse him out so badly I'd get locked up." - and tries to distract you with false deliberations over what she wants to wear. She's had it planned all day, but lets you 'help' choose her dress regardless.

"Go for the green," you nod, when Danbi holds up two nearly identical dresses. The only difference is that once is a pretty mint green and floor length, while the other is black and cuts off midway up her thigh. "Tae got a shirt that could coordinate?"

"Not sure, she hums, looking across the clothing rail where he's keeping his clothes. There's a crisp white dress shirt, a little oversized and relaxed, but so perfectly Taehyung. You know that together they'll look like they're off to Monaco, or some place fancy like that.

It's nice how interwoven Danbi and Taehyung have become; so entirely different and complementary all in the same vein. Like olive oil and balsamic vinegar, they really are the perfect pair. Maybe you can just be a baguette. Be the third wheel for all of eternity. That'd do nicely.

When you think about it, you're not even entirely sure what you saw by Jeongguk's door.

The mark on his chest could have been anything. Maybe he'd had a scratch? And he wears shades of grey near constantly . Maybe it was an article of his clothing on his bed?

But then you realise you're gaslighting yourself. You know what you saw.

Shuffling into her dress, Danbi holds her hair up for you to do her zipper. The dress finishes midway down her calves, and is ever so slinky. It highlights her figure in the best of ways, and she really does look gorgeous.

"Is it too much?" she asks, but you shake your head.

"As long as you don't upstage Seoyeon, you'll be fine - but I think she said she's wearing white, anyway. You'll be fine," you smile.

Still in your clothes from the Jilympics, you know you need to get ready. Don't want to go back to the house - so Danbi runs over to grab your bag and brings it back to her room. Gives Taehyung his shirt and tells him to get changed in the bathroom. Priorities.

"Figured you'd want this," she says, hooking up a dress on the back of the door. It's already on a hanger, but isn't one you recognise. Nabi's maybe, accidentally picked up from the common area - or worse still, Hayun's.

It's not really Hayun's style, and is too short for Nabi. Her legs go on for days, and the dress would barely cover her ass.

"Not mine," you say - but will admit, it is gorgeous.

"Hmm?" she hums. "Judas gave it to me as I was leaving. Said you'd want it."

Standing opposite the dress, you tilt your head. It's a cowl neck mini-dress. Silver. Covered in sparkles. If you didn't know better, you'd think it was a replica of Paris Hilton's iconic 21st birthday dress - just a little more tailored to your body shape. Slightly higher neckline, just to preserve a little bit more of the parts of your body Jeongguk adores.

"Or," Danbi begins to suggest, sensing that this was a gift intended to be given under far different circumstances. "Wear my black dress instead."

It's rare for you two to share clothes, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Once Tae is finished in the bathroom, Danbi leaves you to get ready. The dress situation plays over in your head - and it only serves to confuse you even more.

You've no idea what Jeongguk is thinking. Is feeling. What he wants, nor who he wants.

The sad thing is, you think that might be the issue: he just simply doesn't know who he wants.

Doesn't want you enough, evidently. They never do.

And it's funny, 'cause Jeongguk swears he can hear how his heart breaks when you walk into the main house later that evening, body wrapped in black satin, the dress he got for you still on the back of Danbi's door.

There's a tiny peek of lace from your bra that accents the low neckline of the black dress, and he hates that he knows exactly which set you're wearing. Knows he packed the full set for you, and that there's a corset-style garter belt that fits snugs around your waist somewhere close by.

He's got no idea if you're wearing it - and has no intention of finding out, either.

You're not concerned with making an entrance, and head straight over to Seoyeon first and enthuse with her over her pretty white dress - "Look at you!" "No, look at you!" - You give her a hug so tight Jeongguk can almost feel it. He pouts.

There's a spare seat beside him, and he already knows you won't be sitting in it.

But there are appearances to keep up, you think. Know that if you sit anywhere else, questions may be asked. It will be less noticeable to the others that you won't exchange a single word with him if you're sitting directly beside him.

The physical distance would indicate an emotional one too, and you really don't want to highlight it.

And so you sit beside him.

"B," he begins, but you shake your head.

He could just be greeting you, but he says the term of endearment in such a tone that you know means a little more than just casual formalities. Now is not the time for such conversations.

"Don't," you say quietly, so that no one else hears.

From your peripherals, you can see him sit up a little straighter, adjusting the dress shirt he's wearing. You've deliberately not given much of a second look. Don't want to see what he's chosen to wear - though you know it's a white shirt.

You feel insecure about your choice of attire, aware that Jeongguk must know what you're wearing beneath it. He's got an eye for detail. Notices these kinds of things.

He included it in your luggage because he likes it. By all metrics - right up to the way your hair claw-clipped away from your neck, long wispy strands waving around your face - you're everything Jeongguk wants.

And you hope it crushes him.

To your left is Namjoon, and opposite him, Hoseok. You engage in conversation with them, paying no mind to the man beside you, even if the silage of his aftershave and deep hum of his voice pulls your thoughts away. You're incredibly good at nodding and smiling along. Have worked in customer service for long enough to perfect it - and Hoseok's too busy trying to subtly flirt to realise you've got your 'work smile' on.

Taehyung is to the right of Jeongguk, Danbi next and then Seoyeon is sitting at the head of the table.

Opposite Danbi is Yoongi, leaving the seats opposite yourself, Jeongguk and Taehyung free.

You wonder if Jeongguk is just as apprehensive as you are about who'll be sitting where. The last thing you want is Hayun opposite you, but you don't particularly want her opposite Jeongguk, either. Don't want her here, full stop, to be honest.

It's not your call, though - and as Jimin takes the seat beside Yoongi, you know that this night is about to get far more uncomfortable than it already is.

Jeongguk glances over his shoulder, down towards you.

Regretfully - instinctively - you follow suit. Meet his gaze. Say nothing. Nor does he. There's a billion thoughts that could be running through his pretty head, but you know he's probably just cursing repeatedly.

Sort of like you are, when you realise there's a few speckles of glitter on his cheekbone. Not the kind he gets from spending a little too much time in your presence, by the kind that's deliberately put there.

The worst part?

You know exactly which glitter it is. Know it's yours. Know it's one that he has guardianship over, from all the times you've left your wands of liquid glitter at his place.

Know that it's one you've got multiple wands of, 'cause it's one of your favourites.

So much so that it's the one you chose to wear tonight.

You wanted comfort. Had found it in your chosen shield. Are crestfallen at the concept of Jeongguk doing the exact same thing.

Your awkward and slightly confusing focus is broken by the arrival of the final two guests.

"Finally," Seoyeon beams as her closest friends enter the main house.

"Sorry," Hayun smiles right back at her. "Fashionably late."

And as much as you hate to admit it, she's right. Looks like she belongs in a magazine. Is wearing formal, high-waisted black pants, cinched at her waist with a black leather belt and brassy buckle. She's foregone a shirt and appears to be wearing a lacy red bodysuit in its place, topped with a matching, oversized blazer.

You're no stranger to the underwear as formalwear trick, but she's so much more refined than you are. Far more demure. Her tits aren't covered with glitter, for starters.

It's not like your tits are glittery today (although there are always specks somewhere). Chose to keep to respectable glitter application.

Your eyes are sparkly as always. The liquid glitter both you and the boy next to you are wearing is the same one that you'd adorned Jeongguk in on New Year's Eve.

Poetic, sort of, you think as Hayun takes the seat opposite you.

Lips now her signature shade of red, you're reminded that it doesn't matter how Jeongguk is choosing to brand himself now, for he was branded by her, right over his heart, a few short hours earlier.

Sure, it was just a smudge - not like she'd fuckin' kissed it or whatever. At least, you don't think she did. The memory is a little blurry, adrenaline playing its part in diluting the intensity of the horror you'd seen.

Nabi takes the seat opposite Jeongguk, probably because Hayun knew she wasn't welcome beside Jimin.

Hayun doesn't notice the look on Hoseok's face as she sits, and how body slightly curves away from him.

"Now that we're all here," Yoongi voices a little louder than normal to make sure your attention is all geared towards him. Decides that he may as well get to his feet. Lifts the champagne flute that has been fizzing in front of him. You've all got one, freshly poured by the groom himself just before you'd arrived. "I'd like to propose a toast - to my fiancé. There's no one else I'd rather battle against in the Jilympics. I hope we never stop living life together."

He raises his glasses and everyone follows suit. Jimin is very pleased with the mention of the Jilympics. Nabi kicks him under the table when she notices his smug grin.

A chorus of 'To Seoyeon' echoes out into the room, smiles evident in the tone of the cheers. Simple, sweet and straight to the point, Yoongi's speech was the embodiment of himself.

For now, amongst friends, this will do.

Come the wedding day, he'll make a proper speech. Will be so bloody poetic that even the staff working the catering will cry.

Downing the champagne in one, you're pleased to see that Hoseok does the same. Decided that he will be your drinking partner for the evening. Ignore the fact that Jeongguk, too, downed his.

You don't refill his glass when you refill yours and Hoseoks.

It's rude. Bad table manners. The least he deserves.

Silence prevails between you both. Conversations are had with other people, but never one another. The iciness is easy to ignore, given the warmth of your loved ones.

But something's gotta give - and a few too many drinks in, main course now being absolutely inhaled, you're the one who makes the first move.

"The meat is amazing," you nod, brows furrowing as you swallow it down.

It's kinda hilarious how much you look like Jeongguk when you appreciate foods these days. Have somehow adopted his expressions into your own repertoire. Glancing over to him, you ask, "is this what you'd do for the restaurant? This cut of meat?"

Nodding, Jeongguk tries to hide the relief he feels at the fact that you're talking to him. Even you're sort of surprised with yourself, and how easily you're able to speak to him, even when you're mad.

"Will be the signature cut and cook," he says of the meat. Keeps it simple. "It's my favourite. I'm glad you like it."

It's not hard to see why Jeongguk likes it so much. Tender and juicy, it's packed full of flavour all from a simple grilling.

"Here," he says, passing over a small pot of sea salt for you to dip the meat into. "Try."

It's not exactly a unique combination, but it is your favourite - and Jeongguk knows this.

He deliberately didn't set up a salt dish near you, just so that you'd have to ask for it - but finds himself relenting and making life easier for you regardless of the fact you didn't request it. Doesn't want you to ever miss out on the things you love, after all.

And as much as you hate yourself for it, you find yourself reciprocating, passing him the banchan that's a little too far from him. Fill up his stock of ssam leaves with your own when he runs out, 'cause he prefers wrapping his meat up, whereas you like eating it by itself.

Leaning over to lend a hand, an ease now established between you both, you think nothing of it when he's grabbing some perilla.

The fermentation process that the leaves go through make them notoriously hard to separate. Honestly, you never normally bother. Just take a few at a time - but it's clear Jeongguk is after just a single leaf. Trapping the excess leaves beneath your chopsticks, you aren't even really looking at him, as you do so.

Until he pauses his movements, and furrows his brows in that ever-so-curious fashion he always does.

"Hmm?" you sound, question his pause, then figure maybe he's after a wad of them after all. Pull your chopsticks away. "Oh, sorry. Thought you only wanted one."

"I do," he says quietly. "Just one."

Never before have you seen a man speak so carefully regarding fermented leaves.

"Okay..." you elongate your acceptance, posing it almost as a question. Leaning back over, you swipe your chopstick between the leaves. Get him two in one, so put it down in your dish and nod towards it. "You split it."

This time, he manages easily, even if he's barely able to take his eyes off of you.

"Are you, like, possessed by the perilla leaves or something?" you ask quietly, so that no one else will hear.

He shakes his head. Finally looks away from you. "No. Sorry."

You're no stranger to the superstitions that come with the sacred peeling of perilla leaves - you just had no idea that Jeongguk seems to be obsessed with them, too.

The debate regarding the leaves had been a hot topic for a little while. Everyone and their dog seemed to have an opinion on the matter. TV panel shows would spend entire segments discussing it. Even boy bands were weighing in and driving their fans crazy with their thoughts on it all.

What you'd found far more interesting was the psychological studies done in the wake of it all, aligning people's stances with their attachment styles.

Jeongguk, it would appear, has more of an anxious attachment style. Checks out, you think.

From across the table, Hayun stays focused on anything other than the pair of you. It's light relief.

"B," Jeongguk begins, but you shake your head, not wishing for him to forget that he's still very much in the dog house.

"No," you simply say, quiet enough so that no one else hears. You won't entertain him, but you won't embarrass him, either. "We're not having a friendly chat."

There's an uncomfortable discord in your chest; a sombre disposition that makes your lungs stutter a little.

You could cry, if you wanted to.

Could be a big baby, and let everyone know that you've got a big stupid crush on your best friend.

Could look Hayun dead in her eyes with your own (bloodshot) pair, and question why she insists on being such an insidious, vapid twat all the time.

Could ask Jeongguk why he lets her.

Could ask the rest of them why they let her bad behaviour slide, and why none of them give a fuck about Jeongguk and what he went through.

Could turn to him, a pathetically ask why he doesn't give a fuck about what you went through.

But he does .

All Jeongguk ever fucking does is care . He showers you in affection, and makes you feel like there's a world out there in which men can be good. Kind. Decent without the expectation of your body in return.

He looks at you with honest eyes, and laughs with you without reservation. He gives you the world, and in return, you give him the stars.

His world is forever changed by you, and you know damn well that whatever happened in the confines of his room this afternoon is incomparable to whatever stunts Seokjin used to pull.

And yet it just hurts so much more.

You're devastated by the idea that maybe he'll never let go of Hayun.

He's a hopeless romantic, after all. Probably thinks they're star-crossed, or some dumb shit like that.

But Jeongguk has never cared for Shakespeare. Romeo and Juliet is only worth watching if it's the Baz Luhrmann one, as far as he's concerned - and he only watches it for the vibes.

Stars don't mean shit to him.

You're the only one that does.

No matter how fleeting, you're the shooting star that he'll wish upon day after day after day. Week after week. Month after year.

Of those wishes, none of them will be for him.

Shooting star? I wish B has a good evening.

Tossing coins at Yonggungsa temple? I wish B doesn't get blisters.

Spotting a rogue Yakult lady pushing her cart? I wish B has a delicious lunch.

Birthdays? I wish B knows how happy I am.

New year? I wish B achieves everything she wants.

Wishbones? I wish B this, I wish B that.

Horseshoes? B, B, B.

Eyelashes on cheeks? God, it's you .

Only you. Has been for fuckin' months. Can't remember the last wish he wasted on himself.

It's not even like they're the big wishes. Just tiny ones. Improvements for your day. Bettering your life. Easing your ailments.

If he were to be granted a wish right now, Jeongguk would wish for only one thing:

I wish B would hold my hand.

For once, it is a selfish wish. Something of which he knows won't come true. Something that would ease his discomfort. Would make him feel better.

As you adjust in your seat, mid-conversation with Namjoon, your legs crossed over, shutting Jeongguk even further out. Wine glass in the hand closest to Namjoon, your other hand strokes at the silky fabric of your dress, along the outer side of the thigh you've just crossed over. It's self-soothing. Something you don't even realise you do.

Jeongguk mirrors you. Twists his body away from you to face the conversation he's pretending to be interested in. Crosses his legs, 'cause he's closing off from you, too.

You know it's happening. Can see it in your peripherals. Feel it in the way your heart tugs. In a way, it's kind of nice for him to match your energy. At least you still match in some regards. Small victories.

Namjoon is telling you about some guy he was trying to track down for an interview. Something about baked beans, and world records. You're not really entirely sure, 'cause you're a little wine drunk, and you're only half invested, one ear listening out in case Hayun makes any snide remarks, or Jeongguk for that matter.

So subtle at first that you don't even notice it, you realise the soft brush of warm skin against your knuckles.

Fingertips.

A call to attention.

When you glance over to Jeongguk, ever so handsome in his white shirt and slightly messy hair, he's entirely focused on the conversation he's in. Doesn't turn to look at you.

Yet his fingers continue to stroke against yours. Refocusing back on your conversation, you don't pull your hand away. Instead, you let him trace your hand with his own. Let him toy with your fingers. Pretend as if your heart rate hasn't increased to a mile a minute.

And you know you should pull away, and that you shouldn't let him indulge in such simple pleasure - but you just can't help yourself.

You want the comfort that comes with being held by Jeongguk - even if it's just your hand beneath a dining table. Public yet private. A hushed declaration. Feelings yelled from the rooftop of a busy city, unheard to anyone but the yeller themselves.

You ease your fingers. Let them link with his. Take a deep breath as he intertwines with you.

Like an English rose up an oak pergola, the fit is seamless. Thorns count for nothing, the buds of how you feel blossoming with every stroke of his thumb against yours.

It's so painfully perfect. Hurts, and heals all in the same touch.

It wasn't what it looked like.

Your choice has been made; confirmed by how your grip tightens.

Maybe it's stupid. Maybe you should know better. Maybe you'll grow to regret it.

But for now, you choose to trust Jeongguk. Choose to believe that it really wasn't what it looked like. Believe that he does want to explain himself. That he will explain himself. That his explanation will be honest, and understandable, and reasonable.

Lord knows you've trusted others with far more for far less.

Even if the roses do wilt, and you're left with nothing but thorns in a hostile climate, at least you're somewhat comforted, now.

Glancing over to him, you're surprised to find him looking over at you, too.

Even more surprised when you both decide to linger for a moment.

There's an earnest nature to the way he looks at you. Big, round eyes, deep with affection. Full of stars. Always fuckin' full. So many for you to make wishes upon.

He tips his head slightly. You okay?

You reciprocate. I'm okay. Are you?

With a squeeze of your hand and soft, fleeting smile, Jeongguk nods. He's clearly not okay, but there's nothing more you can do right now. Both of you are lying, but you're both well aware of it, so it doesn't really count.

His eyes flick down your body, then back to your eyes. Lips move ever so gently. Silently express the word, 'pretty .'

It's accidental, the small smile that blooms on your blushed cheeks. You shake your head. Wordlessly mouth back, 'fuck off.'

And then he smiles, too. Lip ring flips in the corner of his mouth. Rids your heart of all heaviness, even if it does sorta look like you'll both cry.

"DB?" Your attention is pulled away from Jeongguk. Dropping his hand, you turn to face Namjoon. Hum a little in confusion.

"Sorry, I missed that last part. What were you saying?"

Jeongguk returns to the conversation he'd left, too. Runs the pad of his thumb against his fingers, savouring the way you felt. Is okay with the loss of your touch, for he's grateful to have had it all.

The evening continues peacefully. You're pulled into conversations that include Hayun, and act as if it's no skin off your back.

Get into the age old Peperro debate, and learn that she likes the reverse, nudes ones too, like you. Group yourself together with her, when you say "It's not our fault we're girlies with taste."

By framing yourself as an equal, you hope that she'll stop viewing you as a rival. Will make life so much easier if she just accepts the fact that you exist, and will continue to exist.

It confuses Jeongguk. Gets his hand on your thigh, tipsy eyes narrowing in your direction, as if to ask, 'what are you up to?'

If you were to think about it critically, you'd realise that you're trying to get her on side. Trying to make her like you - not because you want to be friends, but because you are certain she must have a moral compass hidden away somewhere. If she likes you, hopefully she'll be less inclined to fuck with Jeongguk. Respect boundaries.

"Come for a walk?" you ask quietly, a little tipsy and finally ready to speak to him.

He nods and gets to his feet without hesitation.

"Walking off some of this soju," he declares to the group, not even thinking about it. Wants to be out of the room, and out of the room asap. "Wanna still be able to out-perform you fuckers later."

The noraebang system is calling your names, like it always is after a few drinks, and it's where you intend on ending up come the end of the night.

"Oh, good shout," Jimin nods, about to join - and then realises the subtle shake of Jeongguk's head. "...For you. Good shout for you . We're all okay. Another round? Anyone?"

Danbi laughs, and begins to pour out shots, distracting everyone else as you get up to join Jeongguk. He's about as subtle as a siren, but you're both wine-drunk. Need to have this conversation before you've mixed too many drinks and it all gets a bit messy.

Leaving your shoes inside, you walk barefoot across the lawn, arms folded over your chest. Jeongguk had stepped into a pair of sliders that he's pretty sure belong to Jimin, given the fact they're a little too small.

"Stars look great from the beach," Jeongguk says, wanting to be as far away from the house as possible. Needs this moment with you to be uninterrupted.

You'll go wherever the stars shine brightest, and Jeongguk will follow.

There's a vast emptiness to the ocean at night. It's sort of terrifying, in a way.

Yet as Jeongguk comes to sit down beside you, the only thing that scares you is the potential for everything to fall apart.

He takes a moment to stall. Points out a constellation hidden in the twinkling abyss above you. Needs this conversation to happen, but fears it, too.

"So..." you whisper.

"So," he nods. Knows that over-explaining will open himself up to scrutiny, but needs you to know everything. "Can we talk?"

You take a moment. "You talk. I'll listen."

It's as good as he'll get. Inhales and sharply exhales. Is slow as he begins to explain.

"I didn't realise anyone was in the house when I got out of the shower. Only thought to put my shorts back on 'cause I remembered Jimin coming in unannounced earlier."

"Okay," you accept. Seems like he can learn from his mistakes. Wonder if the same can be said for his mistakes with Hayun. "Then?"

"S'gonna sound like such a lie," he laments. Knows what it looks like. Knows that you'll likely still be sceptical. Remaining quiet, you let him continue. Maybe it will sound like a lie, but that's up for you to decide. All he can do is give you his honesty. "You know how the stairs jut out a little? And the downstairs bathroom is kind tucked away?"

You silently nod. Hadn't really ever thought much of it - but he's right.

"Hayun-" he's careful not to call her 'Yun' - "was coming out of the bathroom, and I was sort of, like, skipping down the stairs? Going fast, you know how I do. Hands on either side of the bannister."

You know it well; how he just swings himself down flights of stairs, as if he's still a kid. It's sweet. Sometimes . Annoying, and really irritating when you're behind and he's gearing himself up to gain momentum - but also cute when he clears five steps at a time and has the hugest smile on his face after he reaches the end.

"Thought I was alone," he reinforces. "Cleared, like, six in one go. Was pretty impressive, actually."

"Well done," you smile, like the proud parent of their bat-shit crazy child.

"Thanks," he grins, but quickly resumes seriousness. "Anyways, had a little too much momentum, didn't realise she was coming out of the bathroom, and couldn't stop myself in time."

Doesn't take a genius to work it out. You can picture it all in your head. Him, her. The stuff of K-dramas. The collision you always thought would be between the pair of you happening with her instead.

"She uses, like, this stain stuff - the red. It's not like, the sticks," Jeongguk tries his best to recall the right terms, but honestly his brain is just full of glitter these days. "It's in a tube - anyways, not important."

You hate that he knows this - but it makes sense. He's always been attentive. It kind of is important, but you let him go on.

"Takes a while to dry," he continues. "And she'd just done her makeup, and like - I tried to stop myself, I really did, but you know it's like. Anyways -"

He holds up both of his hands. Keeps one in place, while the other slaps against it. The sound echoes in time with a crashing wave, the truth of the lipstick mark revealing itself.

"Literally nearly knocked her out," he says, then pouts a little. "If anything, you should be-"

"I'm not thanking you," you laugh, cutting him off before he gets the chance to demand it. "Still doesn't explain-"

"The door," he nods. "I know."

There's a pause, Jeongguk giving you a chance to say something - anything - before he continues. Instead, you just look out to the ocean and play with the sand a little mindlessly.

"Nearly wiped her out. Asked if she was okay, and she just... I dunno, she just sorta started crying and like - I didn't know what to do," he stresses. "Can count on one hand the amount of times I've seen her cry," he admits, and the statistic doesn't surprise you whatsoever.

She doesn't strike you as the type to wear her vulnerabilities on her sleeve.

In much the opposite fashion, it had taken Jeongguk by surprise when the water works started. He wasn't really sure what to do. Isn't an awful person, so didn't wanna just walk away when another human being was quite clearly in distress - especially as he seemed to trigger it.

"Things are just..." she had sobbed, exasperated with the state of her life. Nothing had gone to plan. Even her back up options were lost to her, now. The things she had been certain she'd achieve were hanging in the wastelands, and she had nothing to show for it. "They're shit, Gguk. Everything is shit."

The cynical side of Jeongguk thought she only had herself to blame.

But the side of him you adore endless - the compassionate, kind, gentle side - had taken pity.

"That's not true," he'd said. " You've got a good family. Good friends. Skills. This is just a blip. Things'll straighten themselves out eventually. They always do."

This only made her cry even harder.

Why he had to be so fucking nice to her all the time, she'd never understand. She'd been a cow, and was well aware of that. No matter how much she was trying to make right her wrongs, she knew that irreparable damage had been done. Many things, is Hayun, but naive not one of them.

Weak, is another thing she refuses to be. Refuses to let anyone see her cry. Asked to talk to Jeongguk a little more privately - and he was desperate to cover himself up. Was well aware he was half naked. Didn't really feel comfortable.

"Was a lapse in judgement," he admits to you. "Should have told her to wait outside, or go to her room, or something. Just sort of thought the quicker I get a shirt on, the quicker I could stop feeling so uncomfortable. I headed in first, she followed behind. Didn't even realise she'd locked it. Think she was scared of people seeing her cry."

You scoff a little at this. Refuse to think he thought the process was really that innocent.

"Anyways, you came in, she freaked. I went to open the door, realised it was locked," he explains, taking a deep breath. Shakes his head. Replays the memories.

"I don't want her to see me like this," Hayun had hissed.

"Yeah," he'd called out to you, rushing to unlock it.

"Don't open it. Please."

Furrowing his brows, Jeongguk had shook his head. Whispered, "I have to."

Was a no-brainer to him.

"Just gimmie a second," he had called through the door, now on the other side of it. Waved his hand in the air indicating she should get out of sight if she didn't want to be seen. In that split moment, it seemed like a logical compromise.

By the time he'd opened the door, your face was already contorted with confusion.

The realisation of how terrible it looked hit him quickly. Didn't even realise she'd tossed her jacket down. Just knows it was a series of unfortunate events that'd give even Lemony Snicket a run for his money.

"I know I'm a fuckin' idiot," Jeongguk says. "I do the wrong things and I say dumb shit, but Byeol I'd never fuck you over like that. What's the point in me making a big song and dance this morning about how much I don't wanna lose you, only to do something that would jeopardise that completely?"

You shrug. Sniff back little tears you didn't even realise you'd been holding in.

"Boys are stupid."

"I know." He reaches out for you, and you find yourself just melting into his touch as he drags you into his lap. Jeongguk wraps his arms around you - and you just let him. Lips pressing a firm kiss into your hair, he squeezes you tightly. "B, I meant everything . Love the way I feel when I'm with you. Don't wanna lose it."

Tepid as you turn your head to face him, your hands tentatively find their home beneath his strong jaw. He closes his eyes. Inhales. Feels so fucking at peace.

And when your nose nudges up against his?

Oh, he's home .

"I'm sorry," he whispers - and you punctuate his apology with a soft kiss to his lips, that have been longing to feel yours for hours, now. He shakes his head a little. Laments. "So stupid. So fukin' stupid."

But then you shake your head, too.

You were presented with evidence, and decided to take a pole vault to it. Jumped to conclusions that reached even greater heights than you thought were possible.

"I should have heard you out," you admit. Takes two to tango when it comes to the dance of miscommunication. "I'm sorry for not doing that."

He just shrugs.

"I get why you didn't... but B, I'm not him," he says quietly, still hurt by your earlier accusation. "I... Look, I know I didn't dress it up in flowery words, and that I sort of made a joke about it all, but I want this. Whatever this is. I want it. Want you."

And as his lips sink into yours, you know that lies are something he's no longer capable of.

"I'll give you a nice fuckin' label," he promises. "Tell anyone who ever asks, if you like. You're my best fuckin' friend. No one else comes above you. No one. Whatever you want to label us as, that's what we'll be. Whatever you want, B."

"And what about what you want?" You ask, forehead against his, the weight of his words light and yet incredibly heavy in the same fleeting moment.

Friends? Lovers? Partners?

Together?

The options are endless. Daunting.

And yet Jeongguk seems unphased.

But of course he is. Been so scared of losing you that he's been hesitant with his honesty, and now realises it's completely counterproductive.

"Told you already," he whispers. "Want you ."

"You're drunk."

"Doesn't matter."

"You won't remember this in the morning."

"Then remind me," he says. "It'll come right back."

"Confident, aren't you, Koo?" You giggle, and Jeongguk knows that he's done for. That name. Gets him every goddamn time. "Thought you were scared of rejection?"

"Don't reject me for the sake of the birds." He pleads, now. Begs . A kiss is pressed to your lips, heart swelling in your chest. "Rejection doesn't scare me anymore, B. Losing you does."

"I don't think this is on the birds, anyways," you whisper. "Don't think anything we do these days is."

Crazy how everything changes and yet Jeongguk remains exactly the same, in his own, strange way.

"You'd be surprised," Jeongguk smirks. Presses his lips against yours to stop you from immediately responding.

There's only a few birds left hanging above his bed - but there is a new addition. One he added the day he arrived home from Busan. One that gets his hands all clammy just thinking about it.

Pulling away, Jeongguk is so pleased to see you smiling.

"I'm scared," you admit. Sort of just blurt it out. Feel the need to let him know that you'll need your hand held.

"Yeah," Jeongguk nods. "Me too - but we've always been pretty good at facing our fears together, right?"

"Right," you say, biting down on your bottom lip, cheeks full, eyes sparkling even in the dark of night. "Seriously though - will you even remember this in the morning?"

"Never felt more sober."

"Okay...," you nod, not believing him in the slightest. "Well, ask me again about a label in the morning."

"So you are rejecting me."

"No," you laugh. "I'll say yes. I just want to make sure it's something you actually want to do."

"I'm sure," he insists - but you're still a little hesitant. Don't want to rush anything. Had been christened with a label earlier that day, only to revoke it a few hours later. Seems a little premature to assign another.

"Anyways, we've been on a 'walk' for ages," you hum, getting to your feet, dusting sand from your lap. The topic is being changed, and Jeongguk knows to let it. To respect your choices. Follows you as you lead him back to the house, where you can already hear the noraebang session has started.

"Let's face it," Jeongguk smirks. "Jimin's probably told them all we've gone for a shag."

He has.

It's confirmed when Jeongguk gets him in a headlock, and Jimin squirms away from the noogie he's receiving, saying, "You better have washed your hands, you nasty fucker."

And so, while Jimin is still trapped within the handlock, Jeongguk rubs his flat palm all over Jimin's face. It's only fair.

Jimin's like a cartoon character in the way he pretends to vomit - as if his hands haven't also touched a little less than appropriately. Boys. Idiots.

"Fuck off," you laugh at the commotion. "We were just down by the beach. The stars are super bright tonight. You should go look."

Danbi welcomes you onto the sofa with her, arms outstretched, pulling you in for a hug. Snuggling up to your best friend, you both squeeze one another so tightly you might burst.

"Nabi and Hayun just got 86," she quietly says of the noraebang system, just for you to hear. "We gotta beat them."

Nodding, you agree. "We will."

"You and loverboy okay?"

"So much to tell you," you laugh. Pull out of the hug and twist your back to click it. Consider how much you want to divulge. Decide that you'd much rather just get drunk. "But yeah."

"Did he grovel?"

"Oh yeah."

"Good. Explain himself?"

"Mhmm."

"Commit any sins?"

"Only the sin of being a big fuckin' idiot."

Danbi smiles. Notices you're sparkling again. Glances over to Jeongguk, and finds he's looking over at you, sparkling too.

"We can live with that."

52 notes · View notes

torialefay · 9 months ago

Text

Moon in Sagittarius 🚩🚩

toxic-ish!minho x fem!reader angst; (based on astrology) 🔞

✨ synopsis: your boyfriend minho doesn’t do well with being told no. he is objectively toxic, but eventually becomes less terrible.

✨ word count: ~2k

✨ 2nd part in my Minho as Your Boyfriend Astrology Series (check my masterlist for full series)! together, let’s take a look into minho’s natal chart to see what type of boyfriend he would be!

✨ i will give a brief synopsis of what each chart placement means throughout the series (for all my non-astrology friends out there <3) and how that would affect lee know in a relationship

✨ author’s notes:

(1) i do brief compatibility readings w/ skz members! if interested, send your natal chart to my inbox, as well as which member you’d like me to read for OR if i think there is one member best suited to you <3 (i am verrrrry much behind on these, but feel free to send them. may take a few weeks)

(2) the aspects in this reading are based solely on my opinions and interpretations! nothing about a person is set in stone simply because of astrology. please don’t use anything i say as canon :)

✨warnings: toxic minho, slightly suggestive at the end

Moon in Sagittarius:

• The Moon is the ruler of emotions. It is also who you could feel yourself to be, if all was stripped from you. Many people relate it to the “psyche” or the unconscious. It represents the parts of ourselves that are most fundamental, that we may not even understand. It also reflects our “baseline” energy that we radiate while sitting quietly, being content with our own company. It is the part of ourselves that we really want to be SEEN and understood, even if we do not see or understand it ourselves.

• Sagittarius is the mutable fire sign. They are passionate people who are deeply intrigued by the world around them. They are known for needing a sense of freedom and individuality. They do not like to be tied down. In the same regard, they value exploration, adventure, and meeting new people. They see others as unique individuals and can likely meet them wherever they are at emotionally. Sagittarius people are quick thinkers, witty, and fun-loving.

• Long story short: Moon in Sagittarius people can often have light-hearted, often shifting emotions. They do not like to feel like they are pinned down to any one place. They do not like being told what to do. They will, however, bring a fun element to any time of relationship- platonic or romantic. They are fiercely loyal and passionate about those they love. They do not always feel comfortable with their emotions, so they tend to be flighty and try to run away from this. This is not a great coping mechanism and can lead to a lot of problems in expressing themselves emotionally and what they need from someone else.

As your boyfriend:

• Minho takes you on the most fun, most elaborate dates ever. He’d always find cool new things to do. And of course, he’d want to take his favorite person with him.

• He loves going home with you to meet your parents and learn more about where you grew up. He may have a nature that doesn’t come across this way, but he would inherently love getting to understand you better and see new places.

• He wants to travel with you!!! He will take you literally anywhere you want to go. And when you do, it’s just your own little world. Just the two of you.

• You have the most intellectual conversations ever. He has a lot of abstract ideas about life, and he isn’t afraid to talk to you about them. He likes to know the way you think about it too.

• You have a core group of friends that you hang out with as a couple. It’s not too big of a group, but getting together with them and having a night to cut loose is super important to him. And he loves the fact that he gets to do it with you.

• Friday night, you started to get excited as you heard the keys jingle in the lock of your shared apartment with Minho.

• Today had been a really tough week at work, and all you wanted to do was have a nice relaxing weekend with your boyfriend to decompress.

• Well, if we’re being honest, you felt like you’d crumble away to nothing if you didn’t get it. The stress was that bad.

• “Hi jagi,” Minho greeted you as he came through the hallway to the living room where you were sitting.

• “Hey honey! Please come sit with me. I need to rant about my day,” you pouted.

• He pulled a wide smirk across his face. “Well now you sound like me,” he teased.

• He walked over to the couch and plopped down next to you, letting his hand rest on your thigh.

• “Okay, what’s going on?” he asked.

• “So you know how I told you about the girl I went to high school with who just started at work? The one that’s a bitch?”

• Minho laughed. “You think everyone you work with is a bitch.”

• “You do too,” you stared at him.

• “I do not! Jisung is alright,” he smirked again, knowing that one would get an eye roll out of you… And it did.

• “Anywayssss, that girl. I’m already overwhelmed with stuff I have to get done to meet my deadline at the end of this month, and then she strolls up asking if I can help her with all of her shit too. Knowing damn well how busy I am. I see her over there laughing her ass off on the phone all day long. If she’d stop, then maybe she’d get something done. And THEN, after I told her I couldn’t because I had a bunch to work through as well, apparently she went to one of the main managers and complained that I wasn’t a good co-worker. Saying that apparently I should ‘give her a hand since she’s new’… I mean who goes to a manager with that shit and doesn’t even do a damn thing all day? All she does is gossip and talk shit. So NOW, I have a meeting with our manager Monday morning to talk about it, AND she’s spreading this all around that ‘I’m so horrible to her.’ Like genuinely, the only thing keeping me sane right now was knowing that I was coming home to you.”

• “Aww honey, I’m sorry.” Minho took your hand in his and brought it up to his mouth to plant a kiss on the back of it. “I can cook or we can order some food in and have a good night together. Whatever you want to do tonight. Just let me know what you want.”

• “I don’t want you to have to cook. I really just want you here with me. Maybe we could order some take out and then do a movie? I’m just super drained. Maybe tomorrow we could do something more fun.”

• “Tomorrow? I have plans with the boys. Felix, Jeongin, and I planned a camping trip for the weekend. It sounded like fun. But whatever you want to do tonight, we’ll do.”

• You shot up off the back of the seat. Surely you heard him wrong.

• “You’re doing what tomorrow?”

• “Going camping with Felix and I.N…”

• “Well, it would have been nice if you’d talked to me about that sooner… Or, I don’t know, maybe have just asked?”

• “Asked what? Asked if it was okay?” Minho scoffed.

• “Well, yeah?” you replied, furrowing your brows in confusion and frustration. The fuck is he being like this?

• “Sorry, I didn’t know I needed to ask for your permission to hang out with my friends,” he said sarcastically.

• “It’s not ‘asking for my permission.’ I’m just asking you to check in with me first- to talk about it...- is that so awful?”

• “I mean I would say that telling me that I either am allowed or aren’t allowed to see my friends is pretty awful. I’m an adult, y/n. You’re not my fucking parent.”

• Your blood was boiling at this point. The last thing you wanted to do was to “parent” him. But goddamn, wouldn’t it be nice for him to just see if maybe you needed him for the weekend? Or maybe if there was something he forgot was going on? Or to just let you KNOW about it? Jesus fucking Christ, here we go again.

• “I’m not trying to ‘parent’ you. I’m not trying to tell you what to do. I’m just asking that you COMMUNICATE with me what you want to do so that I know in advance. This is the second time this month alone that you've done this… And to be honest, I really don’t want you going.”

• “Here it is,” Minho rolled his eyes with an annoyed smile. “You always do this. The second I mention wanting to spend time with the boys, you’re suddenly all disapproving,” he let out a strained, sarcastic chuckle before clearing his throat. “I’m sorry if you ‘don’t want me going’, but you don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do.”

• Minho let out a deep breath before putting his hands on his knees and using the pressure to pull himself to standing. “I’m going tomorrow. Let me know I guess if you want to spend time with me tonight.” He looked down at you before walking away to the bedroom.

• And then, the house went quiet. For a long time.

• At that point, you’d decided to just give up. Your boyfriend was a conceited asshole and there was nothing you could do about it. You were upset, but you knew that crying wouldn’t help. After all of this shit, you just wanted to sleep.

• Problem: Minho was in the bedroom. You were too exhausted to fight anymore, now not even hungry to think about dinner. Instead, you just balled yourself up on the couch and went to sleep with a resentful heart.

• An hour later, Minho came creeping out of the bedroom to find you lying peacefully on the couch. He bent down next to you.

• “Jagi,” he whispered, brushing his hand along your shoulder.

• “Jagi,” he said again, a bit louder this time. You stirred a little bit.

• “Honey, please wake up. I need to talk to you,” he said as he saw your eyes slowly open, a confused look coming over your face.

• You took your time to sit upright. Another conversation about his little "boy’s trip" was the last thing you wanted right now.

• “What is it?” you mumbled grumpily.

• “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I did earlier.”

• You didn’t say anything back. I mean, what could you say? It was the truth.

• “And I’m going to work on that. To work on talking to you about things better, I mean. Maybe I can have a hard time doing that sometimes.” He never would admit when he was wrong. But this was a start.

• You just looked at him, trying to give him a facial expression for him to go on. You weren’t satisfied yet.

• “And I decided I’m going to stay home with you instead. You need me more than the boys do.”

• “Okay, you don’t have to do that, Min. You can still go, but I just needed you to understand where I was coming from.”

• “And I do understand now. That’s why I’m staying with you. I made up my mind. That’s what I want to do,” he said with a proud smile.

• You let out a soft chuckle. “You’re always gonna do whatever you wanna do, huh?” you joked. You finally flashed him a smile. The first smile you’d had all night.

• He just looked at you with a grin, giving a little bit of side eye. “If that’s true, then what if I wanna do you?”

• You tried to tease him by pushing him away, giggling a little in the process.

• “You better cut it out,” he said, pulling himself back to you until he was hovering right in front of your face. “I get to do whatever I want, remember?” He smiled as he inched his lips closer, but stopped himself right before letting them touch yours. “I made my mind up. I’m gonna do you. Whatever I say goes, Jagi.”

———————————————————————

✨ author’s note: moon in sag has a lot of wonderful aspects as well, i just chose to write on the more angsty side of things :)

✨ if you enjoyed, please consider liking, commenting, and/or re-blogging <3

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skaruresonic · 2 months ago

Note

I can't take Lanolin or Surge seriously because their entire selling point as characters is to whine about things that no one else in the cast is bothered by. This still applies even when going off the comic alone and ignoring everything else.

You don't see Cream or Charmy yelling at Sonic to kill Eggman. Not even after the metal virus. And they're literally children.

Even when you're comparing them to other idw comic characters they still fall flat. Tangle went through the metal virus too and has a history of surviving the side effects of Eggman's invasions. And Tangle is perfectly fine. So what's Lanolin's problem? How can Lanolin's "trauma" be interpreted as anything other than her being overly sensitive?

Then there's the whole thing with Surge. Surge's reasons for hating Sonic are so shallow and contrived that it feels like the writers added the brainwashing bit because even they realized how flimsy Surge's motivations are.

Whisper's old friend group was murdered by Eggman but you don't see Whisper ranting and raving about why Sonic's a moron for not killing Eggman.

I don't see Surge and Lanolin as breaths of fresh air who've transcended the metaphorical matrix of Sonic's world. I see them as whiny pushovers who have less mental endurance than literal kids.

Yeah, you know what, you're right.

In fact, why should Lanolin hold a grudge against Sonic for not saving enough people when in issue 57 she thanked Sonic for saving her town?

Can someone in this Chili's keep their characters consistent, please?

The lack of mitigating backstory is really becoming conspicuous now. At least Surge had brainwashing as an excuse, thin though it was.

As it stands, Lanolin simply appears unhinged because there's nothing else to help us contextualize her behavior. And before people cry "anxiety," note that most people with anxiety do not fucking plot to assassinate a friend out of the blue as a coping mechanism.

---

You don't see Cream or Charmy yelling at Sonic to kill Eggman. Not even after the metal virus. And they're literally children.

Well, Espio did. Tried to suggest it. Sonic just steamrolled him, ignored the fact that he was speaking from a place of pain and proceeded to strawman his point. Cuz principles. :P

In hindsight, that scene reads like Espio touched a raw nerve on something Sonic was already beating himself up about and Sonic just blew up on him.

And actually, Cream prevented Whisper from JFKing Eggman. Whisper was indeed going to do what everybody says Sonic should do, but it wasn't considered the proper stance at the time, so she was made to stand down.

---

Tangle went through the metal virus too and has a history of surviving the side effects of Eggman's invasions. And Tangle is perfectly fine. So what's Lanolin's problem? How can Lanolin's "trauma" be interpreted as anything other than her being overly sensitive?

Honestly, "massive control freak" seems like the most cogent explanation in the absence of others. People have to walk on eggshells around her so as not to trigger her anxiety, since she responds with violence.

---

I don't see Surge and Lanolin as breaths of fresh air who've transcended the metaphorical matrix of Sonic's world. I see them as whiny pushovers who have less mental endurance than literal kids.

Not to mention spotlight leeches lol.

#asks

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fantasy-mixtapes · 8 months ago

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Kristen Applebees S3 Playlist: Side A

Here's Part 1 of Kristen's Junior Year Playlist, I am obsessed with it so far and will probably continue to be. Descriptions and key lyrics below. Spoilers for Episodes 1-10

Genres include: Pop-Punk, Alternative, Punk, Folk

1. Lavender Bones, Stand Atlantic

I know I'm out of my depth, but I just float in it I try to do my best, stop picking fights with it I wanna be upset, you're not alright with it I can cover it up, I can cover it Try to speak my mind, wish it was by design But I can only confess to having doubts with it Don't wanna feel regret, I'm not alright with it I can cover it up, I can cover it

So this is a perfect background music for the start of a movie about Kristen's life right now and I LOVE finding those songs. It's perfect on so many layers, it talks about feeling trapped, wanting to fix empty habits, and not to mention how "lavender bones" really hits home to my queer little heart. This entire playlist is really a game of guessing when the "you" in songs chosen mean Tracker and when they mean Cassandra, level: impossible

2. Starchild, Sweet Pill

What do you want from me? I am not a charity Work hard at everything Do it all for free What do you want from me? I am not a guarantee Go all or nothing Lose your money ... Set up to win Wind up disappointing everyone In the end I am disappointing mostly myself In the end Hang your Head

I AM SO NOT NORMAL ABOUT THIS SONG Guys its like it was written for this very specific situation. AND THE TITLE???? FOR A CLERIC OF THE GODDESS OF MYSTERY, DOUBT, THE NIGHT, AND STARS???????

anyways just please please listen to it its so great like even without the connection to Kristen, go support Sweet Pill they have a new album being released tomorrow (March 15th)

3. Uneeda, Deady

What about the bones The bones have no problem Turn them into ash And this never happened Your ashes big asses Your brains on the pavement Oh no! I can feel myself rot Unless I take your hand

Ok so this is kind of a genre outlier on the playlist since it is very very alt punk but for me it represents the rage at the mall, Kristen's relationship to Cassandra, and both of their respective reactions to what happened. It's very chaotic, but it was a very chaotic situation and I stand by it plus I love adding modern bands to things

4. Bite the Hand, boygenius

I can't hear you You're too far away I can't see you The light is in my face I can't touch you I wouldn't if I could I can't love you how you want me to I can't love you how you want me to

Yeah, sorry had to whip out the queer break-up big guns. I don't feel sorry I feel right.

5. Untitled God Song, Haley Heynderickx

When you're drunk near a sunset, look straight in her eyes She's a quick glimpse of heaven, forgetting her headlights are on When you misread her fortune, don't misread the joke She's the note on your lampshade, the honeycomb holdin' you And she spins me around like a marionette Oh, my web is still spinnin' My web is still spinnin', you can't see it yet

Immediately going from having total contact with a divinity figure to having to grasp for straws once again to a memory you hold onto, literally holding onto the shards of your faith. Having to both embrace doubt and faith at the same time. Girlies, I'm ruined

6. C'est Comme Ça, Paramore

In a single year I've aged one hundred My social life a chiropractic appointment Sit still long enough to listen to yourself Or maybe just long enough for you to atrophy to hell ... I know that regression is rarely rewarded I still need a certain degree of disorder I hate to admit, getting better is boring But the high cost of chaos Who can afford it?

I love Kristen, and I think her arc this season is extremely relatable; currently, 90% of what she does are bits, and I KNOW it's a coping mechanism, but STILL, WHY ARE YOU SO MESSY. I love you; keep being 17, but god, keep your clothes on and stop going to the steel plants girlie you're gonna give Riz a heart attack

#dimension 20 #fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #d20 #d20 fhsy #fantasy mixtapes #kristen applebees #d20 kristen applebees #fhjy spoilers #d20 fhjy #ally beardsley #Spotify

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aboutchriss · 1 year ago

Text

Stray kids as cars

Author note: okay so, I think that this needs a little explanation, I grew up between cars and motorbikes because my grandpa used to work as a mechanic.

When I was little and even now I see cars as people, I swear I’m not crazy but there’s some cars that are happy, some cars that are angry, some cars that are sad, so I thought that it would be fun to write this thing.

I’ll probably do the same thing with motorbikes. :)

Interactions and reblogs are appreciated! expecially bc I put my blood and soul on this thread

You can find the maknae line here

Please don’t do stupid shit while you’re driving, drive responsibly and DO NOT DRINK AND DRIVE

-✉️

I’m so insicure about my English, as I said it’s not my first language and I’m always scared to make mistakes or stuff like that, so if you find mistakes please let me know, I’ll be thankful and also my English will improve!

-✉️

Tags: @ilevaar 💛

HYUNG LINE

Bang Chan: FORD MUSTANG

Expensive and fast

above $58.000

Black it’s THE color for this expensive baby

0-100 km/h in 4.3 seconds

Literally the leader of the road

THE CAR OF MY DREAMS BUT I’M POOR AS FUCK

You need a huge pair of balls to drive this beast

Has a passenger seat but you NEED to trust the driver in order to enjoy the trip, and if the driver was Chris, man I would sleep like a baby, he’s a responsible king and I love it.

Hand on your thigh, or YOUR hand in his thigh is a must, definitely he has blankets in the back seat in case you get cold.

Everyone has their eyes on this car.

It belongs to German highway (Germans highway has no speed limit)

very comfy you can do the naughty naughty things in it

WEAR YOUR SEATBELL👹

Changbin: TOYOTA SUPRA

Once again expensive and fast

above $60.000

Cute and small but has a beast in it

0-100 km/h in 4.3 seconds

Usually used for drifting, but if you drive this on the road everyone it’s going to be like OMG THATS A SUPRA

Purple/pink it’s THE color for this car

Comfortable as fuck but it’s only for two people, so that’s the right car to bring only your s/o in it

as I said it's small but nothing can stop the naughty naughty things

It’s a softie on the road but with the motor that it has, people it’s going to see only your butt cheeks hehe

Once again, belongs to the German Highways and Tokyo (you know Tokyo drift)

as I said It has a passenger seat but since I can’t drift (yet) I’ll let the driver do it

If Changbin was the driver his hand would be GLUED to your thigh and definitely has some good playlists to enjoy the trip and some good snacks

(Yes, he’s part of the snacks)

WEAR YOUR SEAT BELL👹

Hyunjin: LYKAN HYPERSPORT

once again this beauty it's expensive as fuck

this car is RARE

LITERALLY just for a few people, in fact there's only seven examples in the whole world

above $ 3.690.000 (yes, you heard it right)

When I say fast I mean it 0-100 km/h in 2.8 seconds, do the math if you don't believe me

red it's THE color for this car

look at it, mad as fuck LITERALLY a beast

it has a passenger seat but honestly I would rather be the driver even if it scared the shit out me

Hyunjin would let you drive it because he turns on when he sees that you’re able to drive a beast like this

If he’s the driver he want physical contact so you guys hold hands or both of your legs are straight on his lap

not too comfy for the naughty naughty thing

Since this car is rare you have to be careful where you drive it, but definitely once again belongs to the German Highway even if I would protect it with my life✋🏼

WEAR YOUR SEATBELL👹

Lee know: LAMBORGHINI URUS

(Don’t come at me I have expensive taste okay)

I mean look at this its Minho coded

Expensive and of course fast

This car is HUGE since it’s a suv

Above $230.000

0-100 km/h in 3.3 seconds

Black it’s THE color for this car

This bitch it’s fast, and I’m proud to say that this piece of art is made in Italy

Another car of my dreams but I’m still poor af

This car gives me such a big dick energy that I can’t even explain (so definitely Minho coded)

It’s big, spacious and comfortable definitely a place where you can do the naughty naughty stuff

This car belongs to the german highway (yes, once again) and the street of some fancy city like Monte Carlo or Courmayeur

I would love to be the driver of this piece of art but if I think about Minho hands-on-the-steering-wheel fuck it okay? He can drive it.

he needs to touch you so hand on your ties or locked in yours is a must

WEAR YOUR SEAT BELL👹

I spent two days working on this so please don’t let it flop.

As always requests are open!🩷

#skz #stray kids #stray kids x reader #skz hyung Line #bang Chan #bang chan x reader #changbin #changbin x reader #hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #leeknow #lee know x reader #cars #Lamborghini urus #toyota supra #Ford mustang #lykan hypersport

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greatwyrmgold · 5 months ago

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The meat of Chainsaw Man chapter 168 is a conflict between Asa and Yoru. It's short and explosive and focused. What is it focused on?

I have never been a teenage girl, but my understanding is that "slut-shaming" is a pretty big deal. While not universally true, most cultures likely to read Chainsaw Man put a high value on the "purity" of women and especially teenage girls. Being a "slut" means you've intentionally tarnished your purity for no purpose except personal pleasure. You're not even doing it to please your man!

Men and adults absolutely participate in the slut-shaming of teenage girls, but I have been told that much of it—perhaps most of it—comes from other teenage girls. With that in mind, it seems significant that Asa literally hurts herself while slut-shaming Yoru.

Asa wants to punish Yoru for doing something "wrong," so she slams Yoru into a wall and punches her and calls her names. In the literal fiction of Chainsaw Man, this hurts Asa because Yoru's face is Asa's face, dummy. Metaphorically, though, it reflects how girls and women who participate in slut-shaming are only hurting themselves, reinforcing standards whose existence can only make their own lives harder.

(Note: I'm not trying to victim-blame here. The purity culture that harms women is created and reinforced by many mechanisms, and women are not responsible for most of them. Also, the slut-shamers and the slut-shamed are obviously not harmed equally by slut-shaming. But this is a thing that happens, and it's bad.)

But taking the metaphor a step further, and Asa hating Yoru for hand-jobbing and kissing the guy she likes can read as Asa berating herself for her "impure" desires. She probably didn't want to jerk off Denji (Asa seems like a sex-repulsed asexual without any idea that asexual people exist), but she does seemingly want to kiss him.

And just as girls and women shame each other for "slutty" behavior, so do they shame themselves for acting like "sluts". That's another thing that happens, and it's harmful to themselves.

Making all of this self-harm more pointless is the reason Asa is so mad at Yoru.

Asa is very specifically concerned with what Denji thinks of her. There are absolutely guys who treat girls differently based on whether they're "sluts" or not, but by all indications, Denji is not one of them. Characters like Himeno and Power do "sluttier" things than Asa could imagine, but Denji never held that against them. He was still happy to kiss Himeno (until she barfed); he still respected Power, in the disrespectful way found-family tends to.

Knowing Denji's history makes Asa's reaction seem even more pointless. She's literally punching herself in the face for nothing. "Slut" is a social construct, it has no meaning or importance beyond that assigned by other people; moreover, the only person Asa is worried about assigns no importance to that label whatsoever.

I'm not sure how to conclude this post. But I'm sure someone who has personally experienced this sort of thing could write a hell of a conclusion. (Probably also a better post, especially if they wait a few chapters to see how this character thread resolves.)

#asa mitaka #war devil #chainsaw man #themes #metaphor #essay

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raspberry-vinaigrette · 1 month ago

Note

do you have any Dave Miller headcanons you'd like to share with the class ... :3

oh god DO I. please note a large portion of these are influenced by my sister since she's The dave miller writer to me she's so good. as always under the cut since idk how long this'll get

this goes against some things directdoggo has said sort of? but i don't really care i respect doggo as a creator heavily but i personally find this interp much more compelling. davetrap and flipside dave are basically two extremes on the same scale and at the end of the good ending of DSAF3 the two halves of dave's soul "gelled" together -- the bitter acceptance of the fire on davetrap's end mixed with dave trying to accept that jack was leaving forever let them finally "agree" and click back together. so the "thanks for putting me back together" was literal unbeknownst to either of 'em

i also headcanon dave as asexual . he does it with hookers for the adrenaline and jack's like you know you can just stop if that makes you feel shitty. and dave's like. Holy fuck sportsy

he made his organs himself after henry removed them! dave just figured that they were nonfunctional after how many times he'd died or something like that -- he honestly just avoided thinking of it too hard. so he made his own mechanical organs! that's why they're ourple. he has a color motif to keep

he hung up that photo of him flipping off the camera in the spring bonnie suit at every 80s location he worked at. Hate him (lying)

i dont actually personally interpret him with a lot of the more monster-y features that ppl sometimes do like a tail. nothing against people w/ that headcanon of course but a big part of dave's arc to me is how he was always human and he was made into a monster by henry ("william is a monster. MY monster.") but that doesnt remove his humanity especially when he does want to be seen as a person deep down. idk. hes cool

tying into my "jack is so autistic about fazbender's" idea i think that's part of why dave(trap) made the tapes. he knew jack would immediately jump on something like that

post-dsaf3's good ending i think dave would prefer going by bill. william feels too professional and will/willy obviously have connotations. same with dave/david

dave believes that using cameras to watch those you love because of a misinterpretation of henry using cameras to watch over him. dave found them after henry disappeared and was like oh he was doing this because he wanted to keep me safe! hence why dave ends up doing it w/ jack. in his arc in dsaf3's good route i think he realizes this is weird and unnecessary as his view on henry is broken down

i like to think the flipside lets you change and influence your appearance to a degree so initially dave presents himself as more "ideal" because he wants to be viewed as good without actually confronting any of his bad deeds. its also why he acts like davetrap is so much more seperated from him than they actually are. flipside!dave shows himself as having no scars, less spooky eyes, a shinier badge, neater clothes, etc etc. sillier more davesport-y headcanon: dave ends up slowly becoming more like his real self because he keeps hearing from dee + steven/overhearing convos between them and jack about how jack kind of misses how dave used to look. by the henry fight, dave is largely back to his normal self!

he/it. gender: inconclusive

remember when dave says in dsaf1 "nobody leaves [fazbender's] outside of a body bag"? me and my friends have a running gag that before the kiddin killing dave tried to propose a plan where jack just threw dave out of the restaurant in a body bag

#rambles #SORRY THIS TOOK ME FOREVER. this hurricane was ROUGH omfg #i need to get to dsaftober prompts + ur other ask i have a lot of big thoughts.#dave miller #dayshift at freddy's

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wuffgang-ameowdeus-moozart · 10 months ago

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Oh no I am an anxious wreck once again. What now?

Here are a few tipps and tricks that help me personally to deal with anxiety (plus some I know work for others). Please feel free to add your own coping mechanisms in the notes!!!! Even though I technically know means to calm myself down, I always forget everything when I'm in the thick of it, so while this is mainly a reminder for myself I hope this list can help at least one other person as well :)

First of all: emotions are hard, and they are overwhelming, and shaming yourself will not make it better. Chances are it will make everything worse, actually. So don't you dare feel bad for needing help even with the "easy" stuff, or for not being able to endure as much as your peers, or even for half-assing stuff sometimes. It's fine. Like, for real. I promise it's okay. You don't need to always be at your best. You don't even need to be at your best most of the time.

What helps me personally is imagining that these struggles are affecting another person close to me. If my best friend were to call me because she needs help answering an E-Mail, or even to cancel last minute because she feels too overwhelmed to leave her house right now, I would never make her feel like crap because of it or talk about her behind her back or anything else your brain may be trying to convince you of. I know that she is at least as good a person as me (probably better tbh), so if I wouldn't do any of that, she certainly would never. In fact, believing these thoughts is actually a disservice to her, who did nothing to deserve these mean remarks (quite the opposite actually). Basically, try to twist and out-logic your own brain into being less of a cunt to you. Try guilt-tripping yourself into being kinder. The bad emotions are there anyways, might as well use them to your advantage. I can speak from experience that being anxious is a bit less unbearable if you aren't being a self-obsessed asshole on top of everything else

JUST FUCKING DO IT

If the source of your anxiety isn't a particular task you have been procrastinating on, or is something you can't just do whenever (f. ex. a job interview that's two days away), feel free to skip this part ^^

If you are still here: I know it can feel like actual hell to just do the thing. If you immediately want to click away after seeing this title I don't blame you. I mean, I am currently writing a huge ass post about anxiety instead of answering the two (2) E-Mails literally making my hands tremble. But the truth is, doing the thing is actually never as bad as it seems. Here's some stuff that maybe can help:

-> Remember that it's never been the end of the world before, so surely it won't start being it now. If you've already been through a similar situation: remember that it isn't the first time you've felt this way; remember that doing the thing wasn't as bad as you'd feared and, most importantly; remember how you felt after doing it. If this is the first time you feel like that, I'm sorry. I promise you aren't stupid for "overreacting", and I promise it will feel at least a little bit better if you just get it over with. And when you've managed the first time, you can now use that as an example instead of taking some stranger on the internet on his word. Worst comes to worst, you can still anon hate me (jk please don't)

-> Rewarding yourself. Remember that putting yourself down tends to make things worse. Allow yourself to be proud for your achievements, yes even the small ones that most people barely even think about. Because sometimes shit is just hard, but you still did it, and that's fucking awesome !!! For me personally just the knowledge that my anxiety will lessen (and I will probably get some good sleep - emotions are so fucking exhausting) is enough most of the time, but you can also give yourself a little treat afterwards. You've earned it!

-> Hide it in between chill tasks. Like right now, I'm writing this instead of my fucking E-Mail. I am a bit calmer since this is distracting myself from the daunting task of typing a few words. So I am now going to open my mails on another tab, type this shit, and send it. And I know that when I did that I will feel better about myself. And even if I fuck up somehow (how you ask? i don't fucking know), I will immediately have this task to come back to so I don't have the chance to overthink it. I FUCKING DID IT I AM THE CHAMPION OF THE WORLD

-> If you have a bunch of stuff you swore yourself you would do (a bunch can also mean like 2 btw) starting can seem even more daunting (even if it is, as aforementioned, "only" two). So I am very happy to present written lists my absolute beloved. In my experience, stuff is a lot less overwhelming if it isn't only living inside your head. You get a feeling of accomplishment when you can cross something off your list. You don't have to keep panicking about forgetting something (since everything is already written down on your list.) You can even break down bigger tasks into smaller more manegeable ones (f. ex. instead of "clean your room" -> "1. do your bed; 2. fold your clothes; 3. etc etc".) It's great because even if you don't manage the entire big task you still feel less like a failure since you've got proof of all the small accomplishments you did manage. Plus it's easier to continue on another day since you know exactly what you have to do and have proof of everything you already managed as a motivator.

-> Accept help. Be on the phone with a friend while doing the thing (if possible, of course). Ask your friends to be your hypeman before and after doing the thing. Get reassurance from other people. Go to your friend's house to ask them to read your E-Mails, summarize them verbally, and then type an appropriate answer for you (can you already tell me and electronic mail aren't in the best of terms?) Making things harder on yourself on purpose isn't being strong it's being stupid

-> already mentioned it a bunch of times, I know, but the thing that really helps for me is comparing with past experiences. I know I will feel better after I do it because that's always what happens when my brain blows things out of proportion. I know I can do this because I did even scarier stuff and it went well. Or even: if I manage to do this seemingly super scary thing, I will be able to use it as a motivator for smaller stuff in the future. I mean, what even is a fucking E-Mail in comparison to going to a social event on your own ??! (seriously, do it. in my experience it's surprisingly easy to find friends if you look pathetic enough, plus a lot of things seem a bit less paralyzing in comparison)

-> I turn it into a competition, or a game. If I do the thing I win. If I don't do the thing the anxiety wins. And I refuse to let that happen because I'm competitive AND a sore loser <3 so I do the thing. and then I feel a bit better

JUST DON'T THINK ABOUT IT. THINKING IS THE ANTITHESIS OF DOING. (which you can also use to your advantage, à la better to think about that unhealthy coping mechanism and why you shouldn't do it than to stop thinking about it and actually doing it instead. But that isn't the point right now)

DISTRACTIONS

Sometimes there just isn't anything you can do. Sometimes all you can do is wait. Sometimes you don't even know why the fuck you're feeling like that. And that fucking sucks.

I know there are some people who need an absence of stimuli in order to calm down. (If that's you, please leave some of your own pointers in the notes! I don't really have any ideas for that one tbh)

For me, the opposite is the case. I can't count the times my mom has told me to "try meditating!" or "don't do more than one thing at the same time it'll only stress you out even more!", unaware that giving my thoughts free reign would make everything so much worse.

I need to overwhelm myself in order to be able to forget about my anxiety for a while. Sometimes doing a task I've been dreading is easier after distracting myself for a few hours (being anxious is very tiring so if you let it run its course in the back of your mind for a while you'll have less energy for it later ^^). Here's some stuff that could help (though it should be noted that a) not everything will work on everyone and b) sometimes it just doesn't work. even if it worked the last five times. Don't ask me why it is what it is):

-> Do something (really anything) while listening to a video essay/podcast/audiobook. That's my go-to classic. Feel your mind slipping away from whatever you're doing? Force yourself to really listen to what is being said. Sometimes it helps to mouth the words along to my audio of choice (while still doing your thing at the same time!!) Speed it up (I've usually got my stuff at 1.75x or 2x). Assume that pretty much everything listed below can be done while having this as a second layer of distraction

-> Learn something new. I was literally just teaching myself the tabs for Every Breath You Take by The Police and 26 by Paramore on the guitar before starting this. I tried learning finnish and irish for a while there (learning vocabulary, trying to translate sth, learning grammar, etc.). Sometimes it can take a bit of time to get into it, but once you're there it's easy to lose yourself in it (in my experience at least.) And you can always start another video essay in the background!

-> Baking. I usually do half or fourth the recipe to a.) waste less ingredients; b.) have less stuff to eat so you can go bake more stuff sooner; and c.) feel less bad if it doesn't turn out how you hoped. Plus you can also make yourself more likeable by giving some to your neighbours ;)

-> Comfort book/series/movie/etc. I'll be honest, this one almost never works for me, but I know that for some people it does so on the list it goes

-> Take a walk. Touch some grass. Go outside. Personally have very mixed feelings towards this one. Used to do it all the time during lockdown (walking nowhere for literal hours while listening to music), but when it doesn't help it makes things much much worse (in my experience) So maybe be a bit careful? If you want to get away from your thoughts this is...bad. But otherwise (like if you just have the feeling of anxiety without a specific reason) it's worth a try

-> Do maths. I'm serious. For a while there I couldn't sleep, so I'd go on the net, search for equasion exercises, and just go wild. Don't look at the answer: this isn't the point. It's something with a fixed procedure and no consequences if you mess up (you won't even know if you mess up). Maybe instead of equations you find long division more relaxing. Just try not to think of school, put the pressure away, and give it a go.

-> Go to your comfort place. This is also a bit of a tricky one. First of all, not everyone has one of those. Or maybe you can't really go there (like, I always calm down when I'm at the beach. I adore the ocean. But I don't have sea anywhere near me, so sucks to be me i guess). But if you do have a place near you it's worth a try. Sometimes after a particular stressful therapy session i just...go chill at the library for a while. It helps :)

-> Blorbo scrolling. I personally prefer looking at a bunch of art and comics (visual stuff) since i don't really have the concentration to read when I'm anxious, but see what works best for you <3

-> Menial tasks. I love them. Sorting stuff that actually doesn't really matter (like taking all your books from your shelves and trying a new way to organize them). The already mentioned maths exercises. Washing the dishes/putting them back in their place (you can combine that one with the baking hehe). Volunteering work can also be pretty helpful: they often need help with menial tasks plus you can feel good about yourself for helping. Recently started helping at my local animal shelter and it's actually pretty great !

-> Sports. I personally hate sports and always feel worse afterwards, but so many people talk about it that it must be of help to someone out there. What I used to do when I got suddenly overrun by emotions is taking my skipping rope and jumping as fast as I physically could til I felt a bit better (and sweaty ew)

-> Sometimes I like starting a small project; depending on the mood either with no pressure to finish (or intention to show anyone ever because eww), or posting it in hope for praise that'll make me feel a bit better about myself heh. Just something else I can focus on. (ex. g. I've got a meeting I'm nervous about tomorrow so I started writing this huge-ass post) Just remember: IT DOESN'T HAVE TO BE GOOD!! JUST CREATE! I PROMISE BEING CREATIVE AND/OR DOING STUFF IS AWESOME!! (or if nothing else at least frustrating enough to overshadow the anxiety lol)

-> In the wise words of mother mother: Dance and cry, and cry and dance and cry. (And sing. And scream. Or get out that skipping rope. Just let it out my dude.)

-> Watch a show in a foreign language faster (like 2x speed) and with subtitles (less time to read, more required focus, less brain power to panic)

-> immersive reading (audio + text); especially effective if you do it in a language you are currently learning or one that is similar (but not the same!) to your native tongue (f. ex. portuguese and spanish)

-> Try sleeping. Doesn't always work, but at least it wastes time.

I THINK I'M ABOUT TO HAVE A PANIC/ANXIETY ATTACK

-> Strong sudden stimulant. Like smelling a very strong perfume or taking a freezing shower.

-> Just. Let it wash over you. It sucks, yes, but it'll be over. Try keeping calm. I know, easy to say when you yourself aren't currently going through it, but anxiety about a future attack will not, in fact, make things less worse. Once again, remembering past attacks can help as well? It didn't kill you then, it won't kill you now. (My therapist suggested using a mental image, like huge waves or something. I personally don't do that but maybe it'll help)

-> Cover your ears and listen to your heart. Key point: this is NOT aiming to drown out noise, but to ground yourself by listening to your own body (bloodstream and creaking bones etc) (ty anon <3)

-> I'm not sure whether this'll work with panic attacks as well (according to google one of the key differences is that these don't really have a trigger and just....happen) and it probably won't be viable in every situation. But just. Be enough of a spiteful little shit to turn your breakdown into a powermove. (The distressing emotions are there anyways might as well make use of them). You told your teacher you get extreme anxiety when you have to speak in public and they ignored you because the school system actually hates kids? Look them right in the eyes as you start hysterically sobbing so they feel really bad, maybe be extra subdued the next few lessons. As far as you know it'll get you a few pity points that'll make a difference in your overall grade! (Pretty sure I got a better grade in my arts finals than i deserved) Someone knowingly breaks a boundary you set because "oh you've been doing so well" and "it's an irrational fear so it isn't real anyways" or whatever they tell themselves to justify it? This is your chance to make them really see how what they did is wrong (and hopefully will make them think twice before pulling shit like that again). If you warned them, they are literally asking for it. And it'll seem that much more impressive when you are having a good day for once and manage to get through it without one (you've earned that extra credit). Maybe I'm just a bit of a vindictive person, but reframing the narrative like that in my head gives me some semblance of control, which makes it all a bit less scary.

IT DIDN'T FIT ANYWHERE ELSE BUT IS STILL IMPORTAT

This is mostly me reminding myself that it's fine tbh. Because it is.

-> Remember that you can just do shit. I don't know how else to say this, but sometimes my anxiety makes it feel like hiding away in my room is my only option. But that's not true! There is so much stuff you can do, I'm always in awe for a while when I get this through my thick skull once again. Like, you can just go to places. You can just write to your friends. You can just start a chat with that cool mutual you're too nervous to directly interact with. You can move. You can change jobs. You can redecorate your house. You can get into a random train and only get out at the last station, wherever that may be. YOU CAN JUST DO SHIT?!?!?! ISN'T THAT FUCKING AWESOME?!!!!!!!!

-> Extreme emotions can have unpleasant physical side effects. Sweating. Body odor. No appetite and/or extreme hunger cravings (sometimes at the same time??). Diarrhea. It sucks (especially when it continues on for multiple days and your oh so kind peers make sure to constantly remind you of those physical symptoms you are already overly aware of). But it's normal and it's fine. It doesn't make you gross, I promise.

-> THIS TOO SHALL PASS (that's it. Sometimes it's good to remind yourself. This too shall pass.)

-> Sometimes I just do small harmless shit to prove my anxious lizard brain wrong. Randomly say hi on that group chat you haven't entered for months. Create something you aren't really happy with and post it anyways, just cuz you can. Go do something on your own. The more you prove your fears wrong with little things like that, the easier it gets (especially if you have to do bigger scary stuff). Spite can be your best friend. (Plus easy way to gain more points in my mental competition hehehe)

-> Sometimes, despite your best efforts, you will fuck up. You will barely be able to say a word in the social event you forced yourself to go in order to meet cool people. You will be so obviously anxious at your friend's birthday that she will still remember that over a year later (despite your best efforts to hide it at the time). You will get an anxiety attack because of something you thought you had already gotten over months ago. And it sucks, but more importantly, it's fine. This too shall pass. This is another reason why the previous point is so important: it's harder to hold these incidents over your head if you have so many other experiences where you managed to prove yourself.

-> YOU get to decide when you want to try confronting a fear. Nobody else can do that for you, no matter how often they mention "exposure therapy" and shit (it's about the control once again. in my experience it's important for it to be your choice). Occasionally hiding away doesn't make you a failure. There are always more chances, it's never too late to start. Already mentioned it a bazillion times, but this shit is exhausting and you are well within your right to stay in your comfort zone and rest.

-> I don't know if it's just a me thing but self reminder to avoid lactose and gluten when overly anxious. (i never do but i am aware of it that should count for something)

-> gender-affirming stuff can help ^^

-> Not viable to everybody, but sometimes I just delete all social media from my phone. You can still go there through browser of course (that's where I'm actually currently writing this) but just not having the icon on the phone can already feel somewhat of a relief (social media in this case also including messaging apps like discord or WhatsApp or fucking electronic mail my beloathed). That's actually what I am planning to do immediately after posting this thing that came out a bit more personal and stream-of-conscousness than initially planned. You won't even be able to tell cuz I never tag my queues hehehe

-> mentally dunking my stupid anxious lizard brain into salt water rn. Fuck you. I'm posting this. I'm leaving my house tomorrow instead of calling in sick. I'm winning.

#i apologize if there are spelling errors or sentences that dont make sense (my focus is a bit shit rn lol)#once again hope this can help someone? plus always open to more suggestions etc etc #it feels a bit hypocritical to be posting this rn tbh since i am not dealing with my anxiety that well atm tbh #but then i look back to how it was like two years ago and actually i *did* improve even if only a bit so like fuck you too lizard brain #i hope you get to look out of your window and realize that you too have come far <3 #i love being a lil cheeseball hehehehe #anxiety #actually anxious #actually anxiety #uhm idk how else to tag this i guess ill rely on rbgs lol

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