#and i was like……………..*speechless*

[beesandwasps]

The speechless animals live entirely in the world that is. It is sometimes said that some of the animals have a “language” with which they send signals to one another about the world that is. That’s nonsense. That we can uncritically accept such nonsense is testimony to the power of grammar. “Animals send signals” is a satisfying appearance of the basic structure of our language, and it harmonizes sweetly with our concomitant idea that the world is a place where most of what happens can be understood as the act of an agent who is doing something. The animals are not agents committing acts. When a zebra out on the edge of the herd sniffs a lion in the tall grass, he does not say to himself in any fashion, “I had better tell the others.” (Nor would you, for that matter.) He simply does what is appropriate for a successful zebra to do under those circumstances. His startled neighbors, startled by what he does whether they sniff lion or not, do likewise. That’s part of how they got to be grown-up zebras in the first place. The zebras who are slow to startle have a way of dropping out of the herd early in life. In a moment, the whole herd is in flight, but it cannot be properly said that a zebra has sent a message. It would be more accurate to say that the zebras have caught something from one another.

Human beings, too, catch things from one another, and usually with no use of language at all. We can imagine the hominid and speechless precursors of man wandering not far from the zebras. What need could they possibly have had to call the lion by a name? Just as surely as the zebras, they must have reacted appropriately to a whiff of lion. If they hadn’t, they wouldn’t have been around long enough to provide a future for all of us. What need, for that matter, would they have had to name the food they were eating or seeking, the food of the world of experience? Would they have had to be “told” to feed the young? To sleep at night? No animals need names for such things, because they do not have to “tell” of them. Such things, in their seasons, are just there. Language is for telling, not for naming. Nobody needs to be told that he is getting wet in the rain or that he is eating a banana.

Think what happens when you encounter an unexpected snake, the usual kind. There is no word in your head, no language at all, in the instant of automatic recoil. Then you say, if only in your head; “Oh, a snake.” The word “snake” makes you feel better, because it opens the gates for many other words. It occurs to you, because you have the words in which it occurs to you, that most snakes found in Manhasset are harmless and unaggressive and that you’re not really in danger. You have transformed a creature in the world of sense experience into a whole system of related ideas in a world that is not the world of sense experience. That little chill was real, and, for a moment, it remains, but you are not in flight. You are in another world, the world where snakes are made of discourse, not blood and bones and teeth. Your language gives you access to that world.

The Jiukiukwe are also afraid of snakes, and they have better reasons than we. The swamps are full of them, and none of them is harmless. Members of the tribe sometimes die of snakebite, and little children out looking for dead fish have occasionally been swallowed by anacondas. In the company of an anaconda, any forest animal is afraid, just like any Jiukiukwe. The difference, though, is that the Jiukiukwe have a language so that they don’t have to wait to be afraid until they actually find themselves in the company of the anaconda. They can be afraid ahead of time. In language they remember the anaconda of the past and take thought for the anaconda of the future. Those big snakes are not around to inspire fear; they are in other worlds. Language evokes them.

The Jiukiukwe use a part of the word for anaconda to describe those places where the snakes have been seen in the past. With the appropriate verb ending, of course, the same word is used to shoo children away from things. This is actually a form of technology, or, at least, social engineering, since it makes the children anxious and more than ordinarily observant when they are in places that carry that name. In spite of the obvious fact that there aren’t always anacondas to be found in those places, the language behaves as though there were. Some world other than the world of experience is projected by the use of an adjective. When we can project such an alternative world, we can also find, sometimes, a way of bringing it home and thus changing the world of immediate experience.

—Richard Mitchell, Less Than Words Can Say

[gigiohvanna]

flirt protocol ! — c k

summary — you, hr’s primary nightmare, counteract all of lex luthor‘s bitterness with excessive infatuation for superman, though you may swoon for clark kent just a bit harder

diva!fem!reader , warning by itself ! more

monthly visits to perry’s office were routine for you, but hows that your fault, really? if lex luthor was bitterness refined into steel, then you were its counterweight; shamelessly flirty, too infatuated to take seriously, except you were serious, and everyone was aware of it.

you once told perry that if the city was ever on fire, you’d be looking for a red and blue streak in the sky before a neon green exit sign. but it wasn’t superman that got your stomach twisted, not really. though he was an exciting fantasy.

in contrary, it was clark who had you all breathless and smitten.

the chief storms out of his office, evidently stressed. you’re supposed to be editing, however, clark’s adorably geeky manner of pushing his thick rimmed glasses upwards as he read seemed much more appealing.

“where’s that damn headline? i need olsen’s photos, i need kent’s copy, and you —” he levels a weathered, ink-stained finger directly at you, voice rising into that gravelly shout that usually precedes a fireable offense, “— need to stop treating the bullpen like a strip club.”

you pause, blinking once, then you frown, theatrically offended, “excuse you, i’ve been shockingly tame today.”

jimmy doesn’t even glance up from his camera, adjusting a lens calmly, „you purred at clark.”

a gasp leaves your glossy lips, manicured fingernails to chest, mock-scandal radiating off you like your expensive perfume. “it was a low whisper of admiration,” you tilt your head, eyes glittering, “very subtle, deeply respectful.”

behind her ridiculously sugar filled coffee mug, lois exhales, not blinking. “you called him midwestern daddy ten minutes ago.” she speaks exhaustedly, victim to your menacing ways for too long.

the silence that follows is loud, though clark’s chair creaked slightly.

said journalist stiffens, shoulders drawing up. he doesn’t look at you but you can see the pink hue spread across the tip of his ears, glasses blurring faintly at the edges. clark’s mouth opens, speechless. there’s something preciously boyish in the way his hand fiddles nervously.

you watch the motion like it’s a ticking clock, like if you stare long enough, maybe you’ll unravel the rhythm of his thoughts.

he exhales through his nose, steadying himself. there’s a flush creeping down his throat now, staining the collar of his deliciously fitting suit, and it hits you with quiet satisfaction how undone he looks from nothing but your affection.

you lean back in your chair, unbothered, heels-clad feet crossed sensually. your coworkers snicker knowingly, observing the tension.

“you’re going to cause a workplace incident.” lois speaks smugly.

“if he files a complaint, it better be formatted in ap style,” you reply sweetly.

behind his glasses, clark shoots you a look. quick. pink around the edges. it lands and disappears almost instantly, like he regrets it the second it leaves him. but not before you see it, just the flicker of something too sharp to be harmless.

you’ve built your whole career off catching what people don’t say.

clark shifts awkwardly, so him. “i—” his voice is hoarse, chest-deep, then quieter, “i have a meeting.”

a beat passed, everyone waiting for his next reaction. soon enough, it came. “with perry.” he stands too fast for the size of his body, chair scraping loudly against the floor, like it’s also trying to flee with him.

“you know,” jimmy murmurs, fiddling with his camera settings again, “one day you’re gonna push him too far and he’s actually gonna ridiculously fall to his knees right by your feet.”

you shrug, unapologetic. “i’m counting on it.”

you don’t see him again for an hour, not that you’re counting.

you definitely are.

but only because he fled like a man personally threatened by the concept of being admired for too long, and perhaps you’d leaned back in your chair after he left, a little smug, though you shouldn’t have.

because now you’re trapped in a mandatory safety meeting.

and he’s back but not exactly clark.

superman. glowing on the screen at the front of the bullpen like a gift you didn’t deserve but would never return. voice calm, steady in a heroic authority.

and you’ve never been good at behaving.

your fantasy personified speaks serene and unbothered in a pre-recorded safety hazard video, „remain calm and exit through the designated stairwells. do not —”

“— run unless you’re running toward me, babe.” you mumble, seemingly hypnotized.

perry slams his pen down like it personally offended him. “for the love of god, l/n, can we get through one meeting without this torture?”

lois snorts, jimmy full-body winces into his sleeve, someone two rows over mutters your name like a prayer and a warning.

you just sip your iced coffee, eyes still glued to the screen. “respectfully,” you start, calm as ever, “i’m a better listener when the instructions come from a man built like justice and righteousness.”

superman, onscreen, pulls a lever to activate a mock sprinkler system. expression stern, focused and dangerously, to you, competent.

“look at those forearms, suddenly, i care deeply about protocol.”

clark, three chairs down, doesn’t look up. doesn’t speak.

but his neck is pink, flushed in that telltale way, knuckles white and spine rigid, shoulders drawn back with that exacting control he thinks makes him unreadable, yet you see it; the way he sits too still, as if he relaxes even an inch, you’ll catch him thinking something unforgivable.

lois leans toward you without looking away from the screen. “so what happens if the safety video’s starring clark instead?”

you glance at her casually. “then i’d evacuate straight into cardiac arrest.” a beat passed, “he is the emergency.”

clark’s breath hitches subtly, but you catch it with the proximity of your bodies.

you smile delightfully.

[softjeekies]

Waiting After The Rain - 12

Pairing: ot8!stray kids x pregnant omega!reader

Synopsis: An omega pregnant and alone after being kicked out by their alpha stumbles upon a pack willing to take them in and care for both the omega and their pup as if they were their own, because now they are.

Genre: strangers to lovers, angsty but lots of fluff to even it out.

Warnings: a/b/o, violence, past abuse physical and verbal, past sexual abuse(mentions of past non-con), mentions of past violence, trauma, self esteem issues, pregnancy, aftermath of abuse, panic attacks, anxiety, pack dynamics, angst but it will be okay, polyamory, cursing, not beta read

A/N: once again thank you for all the love, please enjoy this chapter <3

previous chapter // next chapter(coming soon)

The layout of the upstairs of the pack house, or should you say mansion, is purposeful. Chan’s room is the first room you see, he’ll be the first to hear any intruders and be able to get to them first as well. Then Seungmin, Changbin, and Hyunjin are next, in that order, before you’re met with a bathroom. Lee Know and Han are next to each other so of course Felix’s and your rooms follow after Han’s, keeping all the omegas close together. There’s one more empty room before you find Jeongin’s room, The way the upstairs walls wrap around in a rectangle makes it align perfectly so Chan and Jeongin are closest to the staircase leading to the downstairs, fully able to protect their pack. The layout is comforting, and nobody is ever too far from one another. Everything and everyone has a place, though you all often floated in and out of each other’s rooms. Hence, some doors switched between closed and open as the day went on but the empty guest room next to yours always had a closed door. The room wasn’t really in use; there was no need to have the door open, so it was strange that today it was cracked open. They say curiosity killed the cat, or in this case the wolf. One peak is all you wanted, just to make sure there was nothing to be alarmed of but the sight inside sure did kill you, with love. Inside the empty room sat Hyunjin paintbrush in hand in front of a massive mural. Hyunjin has shown you many of his art projects but never anything this massive. The spike in your milky scent causes the beta to turn around shocked at your presence but he melts once he sees you, smiling at you and ushering you into the room to join him. When you walk in you get a better look at the mural. It's a meadow of gorgeous flowers, realistic-looking dewdrops rest on each one, The sky above them is bright but the sight of the rainbow lets you know this scene is after the rain. It’s so gorgeous you’re speechless.

“Do you like it?” Hyunjin looks at you hopefully, prepared for rejection but he wants nothing more than for you to love it. He sets his paintbrush down and stands up to meet you, seeing the painting from your view.

“Hyunjin, you are the most talented person I have ever met. This is beautiful. What’s it for?”

“I know you said you weren’t sure if you wanted a nursery, and don’t think this is me forcing you to have one that’s still completely up to you but when inspiration strikes I’m not one to deny it so I’ve been working on this for the past two weeks. I was going to do a big reveal but this is fine.” You both lock eyes for a moment, and everything stills. The moment is warm, it’s safe, leaving you feeling all gooey inside. You hesitate for a moment before using your tippy toes to connect your lips to his. Hyunjin doesn’t let the shock keep him from doing what he has to do, he immediately uses his hands to steady you and leans into the kiss meeting you at your level. It’s not a long or extremely passionate kiss but there were fireworks, you both could feel them. Once you pull away, realization smacks you in the face, you just kissed one of them for the first time.

“Did you mean to do that? Should I have stopped you?”

“I think I meant it, I just shocked myself. Why? Was it too much?” The beta wraps his arms around your chest resting his head in the crook of your neck.

“No, god, that was amazing. The guys are gonna be so jealous. I’m so happy you trusted me like that,” He nuzzles deeper into your neck placing a sweet kiss to your scent gland. “You are too cute.”

“Maybe a nursery would be a good idea, I wouldn’t want this beautiful painting to go to waste, they deserve to see it.” Hyunjin can’t help but feel honored, he absolutely would have accepted if you didn’t want the nursery and his work would only be used later on down the line when the pup got old enough for their own room but he loves this outcome. He can’t help but think about how far you’ve come, and how much farther you’ll go together. The quiet moment is interrupted by a blonde omega bursting through the door.

“I couldn’t help but hear something about a nursery… I happen to have multiple shopping sites pulled up with the cutest baby stuff known to man, sweetheart you wouldn’t want to join me and Jisung in a little browsing session would you?” Those god damn puppy dog eyes. You look up at Hyunjin for permission to leave your moment together and he happily ushers you towards his Aussie omega, giving you both a kiss on your foreheads.

Jisung lies against the headboard of Felix’s bed with you sitting between his legs, your back to his chest unable to keep his hands off your bump. The omegas have always been clingy, respectful but the second they got your permission to do something they never stopped. So ever since they all made it clear they would be the fathers of your pup these two couldn’t stay away from you, fussing over you and of course lots of cuddles. Felix sits in front of you two with his laptop showing you various baby items he’s been looking at for the past month.

“Felix we don’t even know the gender yet it's a little early to get most of this stuff.” It’s lighthearted, and you can’t help but giggle at his excitement.

“You’re literally going to find out the gender tomorrow. We are right on time if you ask me! Plus I don’t really think gender matters when it comes to color and clothes, our baby will look cute in everything!” You let out a contented sigh allowing Felix to show you more stuff bouncing opinions back and forth between the three of you.

“Why do you guys do this?” The blonde omega looks up, his face filled with concern. You can feel Jisung tense behind you.

“I just think it’s fun, why? If we overstepped, we can stop.” He goes to close his laptop when you stop him.

“No, neither of you overstepped. It's just, out of all of the pack you two fuss the most and you both are really sweet and want to be involved in pointless stuff like this, I just don’t understand what the motive is I guess.”

“Baby, first off none of this is pointless. It’s our baby, every little moment is special! There is nothing I’d rather do than pick out cute decorations and baby clothes with you.” You hear Han protest from behind you before Felix speaks again.

”We’re your omegas as much as you are ours, When it comes to pregnancy we will always feel very attached to it and whichever omega is carrying. You’re carrying our pup, our first pup at that, this behavior, it’s in our nature.” He speaks calmly, giving you a moment to process what he said.

“Oh! I didn’t know.” It’s hard not to feel embarrassed every time the pack has to teach you something. They’ve been nothing but patient but seeing how easily all this comes to them, it hurts, Your omega’s ego is a little bruised.

“It’s okay, you couldn’t have known. If we ever overstep please let us know but try to be open with us, we love you and want to care for both of you.” You feel yourself physically melt into Jisung’s embrace while a gentle purr erupts from your chest.

“Think of omegas as a top-secret group, we know each other in ways the alphas and betas could never understand. Plus we’re way cooler!” Han explains.

“So I can trust you guys with anything right?”

“Yes of course!”

“I kissed Hyunjin.” You smile innocently and a light blush creeps up on your cheeks but neither omega can focus on that, this is huge.

“WHAT?” They speak in unison and you giggle at their cute reactions.

“Before you walked in on us, Felix, he was showing me the mural and I just kissed him, it was a spur of the moment thing.” Han places his head on your shoulder with a smirk.

“Does this mean I get kisses too?” He leans his head in a way to make sure he can see the blush getting brighter.

“Jisung! Don’t worry about him, you don’t have to kiss any of us.” You purr at his consideration, It feels nice to be in control of this stuff.

“I don’t see why not.” You giggle and turn around to place a sweet kiss on the omega’s lip. They are just as soft as Hyunjin's, just a little wetter, still perfect. When you pull away he has a love-struck look on his face, eyes half lidded with a big smile.

“You taste so good. Felix, you have to taste her!” Felix does speak, but he just stares at your pupils dilated from a mix of the display of affection between his omegas and the recent developments in your relationship. He’s letting you take the lead, he doesn’t protest when you move forward kneeling in front of him. You wait a moment, giving him a chance to push you away, before you lean in for a kiss. The longest one yet. He takes hold of your waist, he would say he’s steadying you on the bed but really he’s grounding himself, reminding himself this is real. When you finally separate you’re met with what you think might be the biggest smile you have ever seen.

“You’re right, she is delicious.” You crawl back in between Jisung’s legs resting your head on his chest in embarrassment. You couldn’t tell if it was butterflies or the baby moving around in your belly, but it felt good.

“So are kisses like a thing we do now? Do you plan to kiss the others?” It’s a good question, but you hadn’t really thought about it. You hadn’t really accepted their courting effort yet so in the eyes of culture, you weren’t even mates yet. It doesn’t bother you much but something gnaws at your brain.

“Well, I’m not sure. It sounds terrible but I’m still a little scared of the alphas you know? It’s irrational but I can’t help but think maybe kissing them would be the start of things going south. Like it’d be real, if I become their mate they have control over me.”

“Baby your fear isn’t irrational because you’ve lived that experience, it’s happened before but I can assure you it won’t happen again, not with them, or any of us for that matter,” Jisung speaks while pushing out his sweet chocolate scent to ease your nerves.

“Hannie is right. Is there anything we can do to help ease you into this? Maybe one of us can be there for it, at least the first one. Oh! I can set up a little movie date, us three and one of the alphas, so it’s still special and as natural as possible. You can decide when and how to kiss the alpha and we will be there just in case you need us though I’m sure you’ll be too busy with alpha kisses to even notice us. They are kind of addictive.” Felix is so hopeful that it pulls on your heartstrings. You’ve spent the days since the agreement thinking about your future with the pack. These guys would be the fathers of your pup, as hard as that is to believe. You have to put in the work to allow yourself to love them, though with the way your omega yearns for them you’re certain you’ve already fallen for them hard.

“Tonight?” Your voice wobbles in nervousness.

“I’m sure we could make it work tonight, and I bet it would help ease your nerves leading up to such an important doctor’s appointment tomorrow! Is there an alpha you’d like us to bring for you?” You can’t help the giggle that escapes your mouth seeing Felix’s little eyebrow wiggle waiting to see if you’re eager to kiss any alpha in particular. You think for a moment. Chan is pack alpha and as sweet as he is that scares you, he won’t admit it but he has a level of power none of the other alphas have so you don’t think he’d be a good fit for this experiment. Minho is extremely sweet and caring but not always the most approachable for you, no fault of his own, he just has this aura about him, so probably not him. Changbin is a big strong baby, but a baby nonetheless, he’s a great candidate but his sheer strength makes him a little intimidating at times. Jeongin. Jeongin Jeongin Jeongin, a timid sweetheart who’s so eager to please and serve his pack. Being the baby alpha of the pack makes him a liability and he knows that, so he works really hard to keep his wolf under control around you at all times and you can tell. Out of all the alphas you’ve probably had the most experience with him, he’s perfect for this!

“Jeongin.” You whisper, unsure of your own answer.

“Gosh, I should have known! Of course, I’ll ask Jeongin to join us for a movie after dinner tonight!” What the hell did he mean by that?

And ask him, he did. After dinner, as the pack disperses into their own nightly routines and activities Felix leaves you on the couch with Jisung so he can go find Jeongin. Gentle knocks on the young alpha’s door lead to him opening the door half-dressed, clearly getting ready for bed.

“Why hello to you too, hot stuff!” Felix giggles, placing a kiss on the alpha’s lips, causing the younger to blush.

“Baaaabe I was getting dressed for bed. What do you need? Not that you need an excuse to come see me cutie.” He turns around to finish putting on his shirt and hoodie. His awkward flirty demeanor makes the omega giggle.

“Well, the omegas are going to watch this cheesy movie we’ve been wanting to see, trying to get Y/N’s mind off her appointment tomorrow. I just thought maybe a sweet strong alpha could accompany us.” Jeongin turns around to see Felix’s cute pout, eyes begging him to say yes. Saying no to the omegas is sacrilegious in their house, Felix knew he’d say yes but he enjoyed making the alphas squirm.

“Anything for my babies.” The omega squeals and drags the alpha downstairs, immediately taking a seat next to Jisung so he would be forced to sit next to you, though it’s all him when he decides to sit on the opposite side of you away from the other omegas. The couch is huge, typically when the pack sits here cuddles are involved so on instinct he left the two omegas alone assuming they’d cuddle together, not wanting to leave you out of it by joining them without you. He’s not expecting cuddles but he sits closer and leaves himself open for you to join him. He can’t tell if you notice or not but you do. You so desperately want to melt into the alpha’s lap but your anxiety tells you no.

Jisung sets up the movie as you look between the TV and the alpha, unsure how to initiate things. As if he could read your mind, the alpha wordlessly holds out his arm allowing you to curl into his side. Pulling a blanket over you both and placing his hand over your bump, he purrs in contentment. You spend most of the movie stealing glances at the alpha as he pretends not to notice so he can steal glances at you as well. After a particularly cute scene in the movie, you feel a surge of confidence, looking up at Jeongin for long enough that he looks at you as well. His smile warms you up, easing your nerves just long enough for you to take his lips into a kiss. The firework feeling was there again instantly but the sight behind your closed eyelids sends you gasping and pushing away from the alpha. You saw him, the alpha who had ruined your life, who you were now tethered to by the pup growing inside of you. The whine that leaves Jeongin’s chest snaps you out of causing your own whine to emerge. This alerts the omegas too, Felix immediately crawls towards you placing a gentle hand on your back.

“What happened sweetheart?”

“I’m sorry! Fuck! My brain is so stupid, the kiss was perfect but then I saw him and I freaked out. I can’t believe I ruined our first kiss. I ruined the whole plan.” Tears well up in your eyes and it breaks their hearts. You don’t even have to explain, they know who “him” is just by your current state. They all wished they could wash him away from your memories forever, so you’d never hurt again. Against better judgment Jeongin takes the risk and leans forward taking your hand in his trying his best to ground you, reminding you he’s still here. You flinch but almost immediately melt at his touch.

“You planned to kiss me?” The alpha’s eyes grow wide, shocked at your confession.

“Yes! It was Felix’s idea. I kissed Hyunjin this morning, and then the omegas and I just really wanted to get myself comfortable kissing alphas as well, so I can be your mate. I thought I was safe with you.”

“You are! I mean you are safe with me, always. We can try again whenever you’re ready! There’s no rush, we have forever.” The last part is said softer than the rest, his wet and earthy scent fills the living room clearly keen on the idea of forever with you.

“Really? You’re not mad at me?” You look up at the alpha between wet lashes, and a sense of hope fills your chest. The young alpha pulls you into his chest softly, letting you listen to his heart beat, little do you know it beats for you. He holds you there for a moment before responding.

“I could never be mad at you for stuff like this baby. I’m honored you trusted me to take this step and I wish I could have made you feel safe enough to not have those kinds of flashbacks. But we will work on that, we will try as many times as you need to, like I said we have forever.”

Yeah… forever sounds nice.

[eriwithpetalsandletters]

Scream Queen Meets Formula Dream

Hollywood’s Scream Queen and Queen of Tears and Ferrari’s fastest fanboy collide in a viral tale of mutual obsession, water bottle thirst, and a love story no one saw coming—but everyone’s watching unfold.

Disclaimer: This is a fictional story created purely for entertainment and imaginative purposes.

She was known for her screams and tears.

In the eerie glow of cinemas across the globe, audiences clutched their armrests as Y/N L/N emerged from shadows. Whether sobbing through grief-soaked drama or fleeing from unspeakable horrors, she was magnetic. Hollywood had coined her titles—Scream Queen and Queen of Tears—the former for the way her eyes widened just before the scream and her iconic scream, the latter for the way they shimmered with sorrow too real to fake.

But outside the camera’s gaze, Y/N was something else entirely.

Her birthday wasn’t spent at glittering galas, but in soft hospital halls. Oncology wards, pediatric wings—places most celebrities might fear touching—were her sanctuaries. Not for the photo ops, but for quiet connection. And the public never knew until the recipients themselves posted tearful thanks online, showing her hand-written notes, books she donated, or even videos of her singing lullabies to children who hadn’t laughed in weeks.

Despite the stardom, she’d found anchors in life’s small rituals. One of those was Cozy Brews Café, nestled between a flower shop and a bookstore, tucked beneath the whispering canopy of Los Angeles rain trees. She came often—always the same table in the corner, always almond milk cappuccino, always wrapped in her well-worn grey towel she draped over her lap like an old friend.

That afternoon had started like any other. She was scribbling notes in her journal—possibly for a role, possibly for herself—when she noticed them.

Two teens. Fans, clearly. But they didn’t barge in. They stood under the café’s tiny awning, backs pressed against the brick wall, stealing glances through the fogged-up window. Y/N could tell they were trying not to impose.

The drizzle turned to a downpour.

She acted on instinct. Rushing to the door, she waved them in, her brows drawn with concern. "Hey, come in—sit down, you’re soaked!" she called softly, ushering them to the booth beside hers.

Without hesitation, she pulled the towel from her lap and wrapped it gently around one of their shoulders, her fingers brushing away the raindrops clinging to their arms. The other teen tried to protest, but she tutted with quiet amusement. “You’ll catch a cold, you know? That horror movie I just finished—way less tragic than someone getting pneumonia.”

The café owner chuckled from behind the counter. “She’s nicer than the locals,” he grinned, pouring hot cocoa without being asked.

The teens were speechless, each gripping a handmade bracelet and a painting of her character from “Cicada’s Whisper”. She beamed when she saw them, gasped, even. “You made this? I’m wearing it next interview, and I'm hanging that painting in my room” she declared with absolute sincerity. And she would. She always did.

Ferrari’s fanboy

Across the Atlantic, in the press zone of the Hungarian Grand Prix, Charles Leclerc was once again spiraling into Y/N mode.

He’d just finished P6—not terrible, not stellar. The pit stop had been a disaster. Reporters swarmed around him, microphones outstretched.

“So Charles,” one asked, “another unfortunate delay in the pits. What went wrong?”

He blinked, shook his head dramatically, and let out a sigh. “I swear, I’d rather watch one of Y/N L/N’s horror films than go through that again.”

Laughter trickled from the crowd. One reporter raised a brow. “She’s your favorite actress, right?”

“Yes—she’s a cinematic experience,” Charles corrected, grinning like he’d just stepped out of a romcom. “Her movie ‘Night Harvest’? I couldn’t sleep after. And when she cried in ‘November Ashes’? I was in tears in Monaco, in public. Ferrari can break my heart, but not like Y/N does.”

His PR agent sighed loudly.

“She’s really all I talk about,” Charles added sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Is it weird I know her birthday? Wait—don’t print that.”

But they did.

The Sip Heard 'Round the world

The rain hadn't let up all week.

Y/N’s apartment windows were streaked with drizzle, soft jazz played in the background, and she sat nestled in the corner of her couch in an oversized hoodie and pajama pants—bare-faced and radiant in the way that felt like a balm for her fans.

She’d clicked “Go Live” with no fanfare, just a simple smile and a sleepy wave.

“Hey loves,” she murmured. “I’m exhausted… it’s been raining and my soul feels like a soggy tissue.”

The chat lit up immediately:

“Queen of relatability” “Rain has NO business affecting Y/N L/N like this” “You look like a cozy angel and I’m obsessed”

She chuckled, tucking her hair behind her ears. “I’ve been drinking chamomile like it’s a lifeline. Might actually turn into a tea bag by midnight.”

Then someone in the chat typed:

“Watch this.”

A link appeared.

She clicked.

And everything changed.

It was a close-up video—no context, no warning—of Charles Leclerc, legendary F1 driver, chiseled like a Renaissance sculpture with a jawline sharp enough to slice time, tilting his head slightly and sipping water from a glass bottle. No labels, just lighting that looked like God whispered, “Let there be thirst traps.” As he finished the sip, he gave the camera a devilish little smile—half-innocent, half-“I’ve ruined lives.”

Y/N didn’t breathe.

The video played again.

Then again.

And again.

Stillness.

And then, chaos.

She flopped onto her side like a Victorian woman overcome by the scandal of ankles. Her face was flushed, her limbs noodles.

“IS HE… IS HE REAL?” she whispered, barely audible. “Where has he BEEN all my life? Has life robbed me of meeting him?!”

The chat went feral:

“CALL 911 SHE’S MALFUNCTIONING” “NOT Y/N LOSING FUNCTION OVER CHARLES” “This is better than every horror movie you’ve done combined, girl WHAT”

She staggered upright, pacing around the room like she was trying to walk off a spiritual possession. Her hands gripped the wall. Her forehead gently met drywall.

“That’s a handsome man. Handsome man drinking water from a glass bottle.” She turned dramatically to the camera. “I want to be the glass bottle.”

The chat was no longer a chat. It was a riot.

Then, like a woman possessed by chaotic Cupid himself, she re-entered frame, eyes wide, voice trembling.

“Why did he DRINK like that?? Why was the camera that close??”

She stared at the screen like it held the secrets of the cosmos. “I’ve been emotionally kidnapped by a water bottle moment,” she whispered reverently. “I FELT THAT SIP IN MY SPINE.”

And then—because her fans never rest—someone dropped an edit. She clicked the link.

Charles Leclerc. Slow motion. Dramatic music. He winked.

He winked.

Y/N screamed. Audibly. She threw a throw pillow across the room, clutched her heart, and bolted off-screen.

The live feed was still running.

The fans watched in real time as she returned, phone in hand, aggressively Googling.

“Charles Leclerc age—Charles Leclerc height—IS CHARLES LECLERC MARRIED?!”

She dropped to her knees like gravity had finally won.

“He can’t be married,” she gasped, eyes wide with theatrical panic. “WHAT ABOUT ME?!”

Her fans were screaming in the chat. The suspense was unbearable.

She grabbed her phone, typing like her life depended on it. “Charles Leclerc relationship status…”

Silence.

Then: Single.

She blinked. Giggled. Let out a victorious scream.

“YES, THANK GOD!”

She threw a pillow. The blanket flew off the couch. “There’s a chance,” she whispered, breathless. “That man sipped water and stole my soul—and now the universe says I still have time.”

She completely forgot about the live.

The chat was complete anarchy:

“SHE’S NOT EVEN LOOKING AT US ANYMORE” “Ma’am we are LIVE please come back to Earth” “This is peak cinema. No horror role can top this performance”

It didn’t take long.

Clips of her meltdown flooded TikTok, Twitter, Instagram stories. The quote “I want to be the glass bottle” was printed on t-shirts within 48 hours. Fans even made a remix of her chanting “handsome man drinking water” layered over trap beats.

Her publicist begged her to take the live down.

She refused.

“That was real,” she said. “If anyone asks, tell them Charles Leclerc water-bottle-sipped his way into my nervous system. I will never be the same.”

And somewhere, hours later, Charles was tagged in the viral clip.

He watched, blinking.

Then, he smiled.

From the corner of his Monaco apartment, with the same glass bottle in hand.

Emotionally Kidnapped: Engagement Speedrun

It was the day after the water bottle incident, and Y/N was back online.

Same couch. Same hoodie. Same dramatic energy. Different goal.

She blinked at the screen with the determination of someone halfway through a rom-com plot twist. “Okay. I need Charles Leclerc facts. I’m studying. It’s research. For emotional preparation.”

Fans flooded the chat.

“He speaks French, Italian, English—probably fluent in seduction too” “He plays piano… LIKE A HEARTBREAKER” “Compilation of him talking about you. Open it. I dare you.”

She clicked.

And there it was: a fan-made video, complete with soft transitions and sparkling overlays. Charles in interviews, casually declaring, “Y/N L/N? I’ve seen every film. She’s phenomenal.” “I’m a huge fan… she’s mesmerizing.” “I’d be starstruck if I ever met her.”

Y/N went rigid.

Then launched off the couch.

She placed both palms against the wall like she was bracing for an earthquake. “I’ve been spiritually jump-scared,” she whispered, voice hoarse.

The chat was losing oxygen.

“HE’S BEEN A FAN ALL THIS TIME??” “THIS IS A LOVE STORY WRITTEN BY DESTINY” “CALL THE VATICAN—THIS IS DIVINE INTERVENTION”

She turned slowly to the camera, eyes wild, breath shallow. “I’m going to tell my parents I’m getting married. Wish me luck, I have Asian parents.”

Right on cue, the door opened.

Her parents were home.

Without warning, she flung off her blanket like a dramatic cape, bolted upright and bellowed:

“MAMA! PAPA! I’M GETTING MARRIED TO A MONEGASQUE MAN! YOU CANNOT STOP ME!”

Her mother responded from the hallway, unfazed: “Did Charles message you?”

“No,” Y/N replied solemnly. “But he spiritually winked at me through a fan edit.”

The live exploded into historical chaos. Screenshots. Memes. Edits. Someone made a wedding invite.

Y/N & Charles: Bound by Glass Bottles and Destiny

When Ferrari extended an invitation to Y/N L/N—Hollywood’s reigning scream queen—to attend the Monaco Grand Prix as a special guest, Drive to Survive producers knew they’d struck gold. Not only was she a global icon, but the world was still reeling from her now-iconic water bottle meltdown. The cameras were rolling the moment she stepped into the paddock.

She looked unreal—sharp yet soft, in cream-colored tailored trousers and a crimson blouse that swayed like drama incarnate. The sun hit her just right, as if Monaco itself was debuting her to the motorsport elite. And then, from across the paddock, walked Charles Leclerc.

He was in his race suit, zipped halfway, fireproof undershirt clinging to him in ways the internet would analyze for days. His walk slowed when he spotted her, lips tilting into that signature crooked smile.

“Welcome to Monaco,” he said smoothly. “Ferrari looks better with you in it.”

The media swarmed almost instantly—paparazzi, journalists, even curious crew members with phones held high. She hesitated, feet shuffling in the crowd.

Then, gently, Charles leaned closer and asked, “Can I touch you? Just to help you through.”

She nodded, breath caught mid-chest.

Without hesitation, he placed one arm around her shoulders. Not possessive, just secure. Protective. His other hand guided her forward, helping weave through the chaos with careful precision.

DTS caught it all—her surprised smile, his small glances to make sure she was okay, the way she slightly leaned in without realizing. The segment would be titled "The Escort Heard Round the Grid."

Inside the garage, away from the clamor, Charles gave her a quiet tour. He explained the pit procedures, pointed out tire compounds, and jokingly warned her that “none of this is as complicated as trying to act next to you.”

“You’re intimidating,” he murmured, stepping closer between two tool carts. “Not because of your fame… but your kindness. Your talent. Your heart.”

Her lungs promptly quit.

She turned, walked three steps to the nearest concrete wall, and did what she did best: leaned against it with both hands like she was physically restraining her soul.

“Get yourself together,” she muttered, half out loud, half to the universe. “Don’t kiss him or you’ll embarrass yourself.”

Charles, one step behind, heard everything.

He laughed softly. “I wouldn’t mind.”

Her system short-circuited. Again.

Later, when her nerves finally rebooted, they sat side by side on a soft leather couch inside Ferrari’s hospitality suite. The chatter around them faded—engineers, staff, fans all swirling beyond their bubble.

They talked. About Monaco. About movies. About favorite songs and superstition. He asked if she still got scared during horror shoots. She told him she scared herself, once.

Then, as casually as flipping a page, Charles turned to her and said, “You know, I’ve watched every single one of your films.”

She smiled, flattered, until he added: “I know exactly how you scream.”

She choked on her drink.

“I—um—please never say that again. My brain is dirty.”

He smirked. The kind of smirk that lingered in the air long after he looked away.

The DTS episode ended with a quick montage—her walking the paddock, him beside her, their quiet couch conversation filmed from afar. No narration, just visuals.

But fans caught it.

The soft touches. The shared glances. The lingering goodbye.

And in the final frame, barely visible, her phone screen lit up with a text:

Charles : Dinner tonight? I promise not to mention your screaming.

Charles: Or I can make you scream instead for a different reason

Y/N: Yeah

Y/N: I MEAN YES TO DINNER

Charles: You're adorable. I'll pick you up, ma princesse du chaos.

They’re not official. Not yet.

But everyone knows.

They’re very much on track.

[tk421-afk]

Absolutely stunned, gobsmacked and flabbergasted.

This perfectly describes my mother.

I…..don’t know what to do with this information but hopefully finally having an understanding for why she is acting like she is will help me help her?

This too:

In February, after voting for whom she did and for “why,” she hired an “illegal immigrant” to remodel her bathroom…. He was “one of the good ones,” was her justification and also the changes being made were meant to get rid of “bad illegals,” (no definition) and criminals.

I was utterly as speechless as I was after reading this. She expected me to be happy that she was giving one of the “good ones,” a job and money so he would be able to become “legal.”

The Shirley Exception

[rainrot4me]

I’m curious could we get a what makes jack flustered? I don’t think that guy can get flustered.

Jack doesn’t fluster from teasing. He’s not the type to blush when you flirt or giggle if you get too close. You could kiss his neck, and he’d probably just hum and pull you closer. He’s composed. Almost unnervingly so.

But flustered? It happens. Rarely. Quietly. And deeply.

๑ Genuine, undiluted affection.

You want to fluster Jack? Don’t be sexy. Be sweet. Be soft. Look at him like he’s precious—like he’s human. Hold his face and kiss his cheeks and just exist with him. He doesn’t know how to handle that.

“You know you’re allowed to be loved, right?”

“…I dissect people for a living, hun.”

“Doesn’t mean your heart doesn’t deserve to be held.”

He’ll go dead silent. You’ll notice the way his breath catches. His body stiffens for just a second—not in fear, but in sheer emotional disorientation. Because you just cracked a piece of him open that he’s kept sealed for years.

He doesn’t blush, but the air around him gets heavier. He’ll pull his hood lower. Turn his face away. Maybe even leave the room—not angrily, but urgently.

He just needs a second.

๑ Touching his face—gently.

Jack’s face is a source of discomfort, insecurity, even shame. You want to rattle him?

Touch it. Carefully. Slowly. Reverently. Run your fingers along the edge of his jaw. Press your palm to his cheek, even when he’s crying that nasty black tar.

Tell him, “You’re not as scary as you think.”

He won’t know what to do with himself. He might grab your wrist, not to stop you—just to settle himself. His body might tremble, the smallest, briefest shake. It’s not fear. It’s vulnerability.

He’s been feared. He’s been worshipped. But this? Being touched with love? It undoes him.

๑ Calling him pet names he’s not prepared for.

“Darling” —no reaction.

“Sweetheart” —maybe a twitch.

But “my love”? Or “handsome”?

That gets him. Something about being claimed. Like he’s yours. Like he belongs. He won’t say anything. But he’ll pause. Slowly turn his head toward you. And you’ll feel it—the tension, the heat, the internal spiral.

“…You shouldn’t call me that.” But his voice will be quieter. Rougher. And he’ll remember it for days.

๑ Innocent domestic things.

You handing him a warm drink. You fixing the collar of his hoodie. You saying, “Come sit by me.”

Nothing suggestive. Just kindness. He doesn’t fluster outwardly—but you’ll see the signs: Hands flexing. Voice tighter than usual. Standing a little too still. Mask tilted downward, like he’s hiding.

He’ll never admit it, but you stun him when you treat him like he deserves peace.

๑ And finally, seeing him without his mask.

If you saw his full face, no mask, no shadows—and didn’t flinch. If you said, “You’re beautiful.”

He’d be speechless. Fully and completely undone. He might leave the room just to breathe. Or worse—stay, because he wants to believe you.

And that want? That’s what flusters him the most.

꩜ .ᐟ

[sadmusicprincess]

better boyfriend - nishimura riki

┃- ni-ki notices how bad your boyfriend (his best friend) treats you and he decides he could be better for you than your current boyfriend ever could

��� tw ꒱ : p in v (protected !!), cheating (not encouraging) cursing, drinking, readers bf SUCKS, name calling, praise, getting caught

enjoy !! wc: 3,627

a/n: sorry i took so long to get this out, i kept getting side tracked

your boyfriend dragged you to a random party after starting an argument with you about what you were wearing, of course, he made you cry right after you finished your makeup.

fortunately, it didn't smear or anything and you were able to fix some mess ups. now you were in one of your boyfriends friends house, surrounded by people who were either drunk, high or both.

you decided to go grab a drink so you could at least relax a little after the argument. right when you sat down on the couch, your boyfriend walked over. once he sat down, you slowly moved away, still angry at him for earlier.

"what are you moving away for? do not cause a scene" your boyfriend said, with his hand resting a little too tightly on your thigh.

"i'm not, you didn't even apologize earlier" you muttered back.

"why would i apologize for my girlfriend dressing like a slut?" your boyfriend said as he turned his whole body to face you.

honestly, your boyfriend has always been a little possessive but calling you a slut? that was way too far.

you abruptly stood up, rushing to some random guys bedroom. you sat on the bed, trying to stop tears from falling. suddenly, someone walked in the room, you quickly looked up just to see ni-ki.

"you good?" ni-ki said as he closed the door, slowly making his way to join you on the bed. you hesitated to answer, but ended up telling ni-ki how your boyfriend has been treating you.

"he just wasn't anything like this when we first met." you said, "want a hug?" ni-ki asked. you nod before leaning into his arms as he squeezes you tightly.

"i'd never treat you like that" ni-ki whispers quietly, but loud enough for you to hear. "what?" you said, leaning your head up to look at him.

"i don't even know why you are still with that asshole baby" ni-ki said as he took your hands. you stand there, mouth slightly opened.

ni-kis hands trailed to your lower back as he pulled you closer. "ni-ki- this is wrong" you say as he leans closer to your lips. "i could be such a better boyfriend than him" ni-ki says as he rubs his hands up and down your back.

you don't have a second thought before you crash your lips onto his. ni-ki turns you around and lays you down on the bed, climbing on top of you.

he reached for the hem of your shirt before pulling away from the kiss, you nodded before sitting up letting him pull off your shirt. “you’re so perfect” ni-ki said before he pulled his own clothes off.

he leaned over, searching through the drawers looking for a condom, quickly rolling it on, before slowly thrusting.

you reach up for his shoulder for stability, holding on as ni-ki got rougher. you covered your mouth to stop people from hearing. you weren’t sure if ni-ki really locked the door. he grabbed your arm, pinning it next to you as he sped up his thrusts.

“nah let him here how good im making you feel, lord knows he couldn’t make you feel like this” ni-ki said. that’s when you let all types of moans flood out.

right when ni-ki finished, your boyfriend walked in. ni-ki on top of you. he suddenly stopped before smirking and beginning at a fast pace again. “should’ve treated her better” ni-ki said laughing at your boyfriends shocked face. “gonna make you cum right in front of him baby” ni-ki leaned down, whispering in your ear.

the last moan you had let out was loud. your boyfriend eventually walked out, speechless at the scene unfolding in front of him.

ni-ki collapsed next to you. “now that’s he’s gone, can i take his place?” ni-ki said turning to you, moving your hair out of your face.

you nod, smiling before ni-ki pulled you into his arms, letting you two catch your breath for a second.

[ruebossanova]

hiiii, would you be down to write something smutty about older milf billie and a reader that babysits her kids and is a nervous wreck around billie… maybe g!p reader please!

permission - billie eilish

milf!billie x babysitter!reader

word count: 917

warnings: breeding, riding, virgin!reader, slight overstim

˚₊‧꒰ა . ——— ˗ˏˋ ✮ ˎˊ˗ ——— ˖ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

“you’re always so good with them,” she murmurs, leaning in the doorway with a glass of wine in hand.

you nod quickly, adjusting the strap on your backpack. “thank you, miss eil— i mean, billie. sorry.”

she smirks. “you get nervous every time i say your name, baby.”

you look down, heart racing. “i’m just—i wanna be respectful.”

her voice dips lower. “you always are.”

you don’t know where to look — her neckline, her lips, her legs in those tight black jeans. she knows. she sees it all.

“sit for a second,” she says. “you’ve been on your feet all night.”

you do. and she sits beside you on the couch — closer than she ever has before.

billie crosses her legs slowly, the silk robe she’s wearing sliding higher up her thighs.

“so,” she hums, “how long you been looking at me like that?”

you freeze. “like what?”

“like you’re afraid to breathe too loud around me.”

your cheeks burn. “i didn’t—i’m not—”

she leans in, voice like velvet. “baby. it’s okay. i think it’s cute.”

you stare at the floor, shifting in your seat. she notices. her gaze drops.

“you hard for me right now?”

you nearly choke. “no— i mean— i—”

she laughs softly. “you poor thing.”

you start to get up, panic rising.

billie grabs your wrist. gently. “sit down, sweetheart.”

your knees buckle again. you sit.

“i’m not mad,” she murmurs. “but you need to be honest with me.”

you nod slowly. “okay.”

“you want me?”

your throat is dry. “yes.”

her smile turns wicked. “and you’ve been good all night. haven’t even touched yourself once.”

your breath catches. “i didn’t want to be disrespectful…”

“you think it’d be disrespectful to come in my house thinking about me?”

“…yes.”

“then maybe i should make you do it while i’m watching.”

she pulls you forward by the front of your shirt.

“take your pants off.”

you hesitate for a split second, eyes wide.

“do it, baby.”

your hands fumble as you undo your belt and slide your pants down, exposing the hard length between your legs.

billie hums. “fuck, that’s cute.”

she pats her thigh. “sit.”

you settle into her lap, your cock resting hot and flushed against your stomach.

she wraps a hand around it immediately, slow strokes from base to tip.

“so sensitive. bet you haven’t even been touched like this before.”

you shudder. “i haven’t.”

“mm. lucky me.”

billie’s thumb drags over the tip of your cock, gathering the precum and smearing it down.

you whimper into her shoulder.

“so fucking big,” she whispers, pressing lazy kisses to your throat. “but you’re shaking like a virgin.”

you gasp. “i am.”

she goes still. then grins.

“you’re kidding.”

you shake your head.

she strokes you a little faster. “fuck. gonna take such good care of you.”

your hips twitch. “mama—i’m close—”

“you don’t get to cum yet.”

her grip tightens. “not until you’re inside me.”

she pushes you onto your back and straddles you, still wearing her robe, untied and open.

you’re speechless, eyes locked on her bare chest, her curves, her slow confidence.

she lines herself up and sinks down onto you with a hiss.

“oh my god,” she breathes. “baby—”

you arch off the couch, a sound breaking from your throat.

“tight little thing,” she pants, rolling her hips. “you feel that? that’s my pussy taking your first time.”

you’re nearly crying. “feels so good—mama—please—”

she leans over you, nails dragging down your stomach.

“not done yet, toy.”

billie starts to move — slow, grinding strokes that leave you clinging to the cushions.

“can’t even form a sentence, can you?” she whispers.

“i—mama—please—”

“shh. let me fuck you, baby.”

you’re so deep inside her, every motion sending sparks through your whole body.

she’s moaning softly now, breath hot against your ear.

“such a perfect cock. made for me.”

you grab her waist helplessly, trying to keep up.

“don’t you dare cum without me,” she growls.

you nod, jaw slack.

“good girl.”

you’re so close you can’t think. billie feels it.

“gonna cum inside me, baby?”

“i—i need to—”

she rides harder. faster.

“fill me up, sweet girl. i want it. wanna feel you lose it inside my pussy.”

you cry out, body jerking as you spill into her with a broken moan, hands trembling, legs shaking.

she slows down, kissing your jaw as you whimper beneath her.

“fuck, baby. you did so good for me.”

you breathe her name, eyes glazed.

she kisses you deeply.

“welcome to your new addiction.”

you’re still hard. still inside her.

“you thought we were done?” she whispers, hips rocking again.

“i can’t—mama—”

“yes you can. you’re young. you’ve got more to give me.”

you groan, gripping her hips.

“look at you,” she purrs. “already hard again. such a good little toy.”

she starts bouncing in your lap, breasts swaying, mouth open with pleasure.

“this cock’s mine now,” she gasps. “you cum when i say.”

you nod, tears slipping down your cheek.

“that’s it, sweet thing. cry for me.”

when it’s over, you’re wrecked. soaked in sweat, twitching, panting.

billie pulls you close, hand stroking your hair.

“you okay, baby?”

you nod, face in her chest. “yeah. i’m just—wow.”

she laughs, soft and sweet.

“you did so good. made mama proud.”

you nuzzle into her. “can i come back next week?”

she smirks. “only if you promise to fuck me like that again.”

you swallow. “yes, ma’am.”

“good girl.”

and just like that — you’re hers now.

˚₊‧꒰ა . ——— ˗ˏˋ ✮ ˎˊ˗ ——— ˖ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

tags; @bxllxebxtch @st0nerlesb0 @dousleepanymore @mxmsuki @billiescation @angellvk @bilswifee @ilomilobabyy @hopingforgoodblogs @emi-inspace @peytonneilish

[hugewoman]

@lostandfem I don’t want to stick my nose in where it’s unwanted or treat your confessional like something that’s open for public discourse, and please feel free not to respond if it’s too much or too painful, but I strongly believe that you deserve to be told now by another adult that hearing you say that you lost 100 pounds in less than a year as a prepubescent child and no grown ups or doctors helped you has me honestly livid on your behalf.

You could have been dying. Did anyone even do any tests or evaluations? Sorry, that’s none of my business, I’m just speechless tbh

You didn’t deserve to be medically neglected like that, not as a child or as a teen or even as a young adult. I’m so sorry none of the adults in your life protected or stood up for you and demanded better. No matter what else may have been going on in their lives, your parents or guardians or whoever was supposed to be looking out for you should have done better.

My own mom, love her though I do, projected her eating disorder onto me, and I suffered for it. I remember being forced to try fad diets with my mom at a similar age in the early 2000s, and I probably only ever lost a handful of pounds if that, but it was still stressful and awkward and embarrassing, and I remember feeling so hungry just constantly. And it changed me and the way I thought about my own body. I remember going from being a chunky bigger kid who was mostly happy to feeling laser focused at all times on how enormously fat I was and how the other kids my age were all smaller than me. (I hadn’t yet made the connection that I had started school later and was always nearly a full year older than all of my classmates, even the boys. I was just always huge and didn’t know why)

Kids need to be told their bodies are normal and healthy and natural, not encouraged to starve themselves or change to fit an impossible fantasy. It’s cruel and it ruins people’s self esteem and confidence and self image.

MUTILATE UNTIL IT’S YOURS

[kumasakka]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❝ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐄 ? ❞

　wherein he finally muster up his courage and confidence to tell you that he likes you or his secret slips somehow and he confessed you by accident !

featuring. surebrec rudo , nijiku zanka , enjin !

content. 3.2k wc , up to 1.0k words per drabble / oneshot , fluff , romance , slight crack (?) , rudo being a sweetheart , zanka being little stupid , enjin being a teasing asshole , s/o being shy and speechless lol , spoiler - free , safe for minors , this was a request , part one.

author’s note. nah I don’t like this at all and I totally failed at zanka’s and enjin’s part. even though zanka is my absolute favourite, I got the feeling that I just cannot write about him as sad as that sounds..

SUREBREC RUDO.

　"WELCOME!" your voice rang in the bakery as soon as you heard the bells.

Immediately after, you stood up from your crouching position to greet the customer properly — yet you weren't allowed to greet them normally, hitting your head against the counter.

"Ouch!" you winced and held your head while facing the customer, "ah! Rudo, good morning."

"Good morning... [name]." he blinked a few times before his awkward expression converted into a worried one. "A-Are you okay..?"

"Mhm! I just hit my head, it's all good. Happens to the best." your lips curled into a grin, still rubbing the forming bruise on the back of your head.

The positivity was literally radiating from you, an aura surrounding your figure as you beamed at him despite the pain. Yet it's not that bad that you have to act overdramatic and all.

"Are you sure?" he suddenly turned into a robot, ears heating up in sheer embarrassment beside his crush.

"Don't worry too much!" you chuckled and placed your hands on the counter, "the usual?"

"Y-Yeah..." he answered, voice lacking a hint of interest in sweets.

For once in his life, he didn't care enough about the pastries because here is someone, he cares much more about. He has to keep up his image though and wants you to think he cares about you.

Although, what troubles him terribly is his lack of knowledge. He does not know how to act next to someone he really likes or how to get closer to them. His mind just turns blank.

Worst of all, whenever he wants to engage himself into a conversation with you, his throat feels all dry and his thoughts empty and then you have to lead the talk somehow with your amazing social skills.

"Rudo, you seem frustrated." you noted, eyes occasionally glancing up to the boy while your hands worked quick to pack the things up.

"I-I do..?" his eyes widened slightly, feeling surprise and disbelief at the same time.

How did you notice? Was it that obvious? But a sudden burst of overwhelming joy flattered in his stomach — well because, you noticed. It's not like you two spent much time together.

It's been only a few weeks since you two met and conversed yet it seemed like you already picked up with his behaviour and special traits. Are you an observant person?

"Clearly." you confirmed and a frown replaced your smile, "what's weighing down your heart?"

"I err..." he trailed off, mind going empty again.

The possible answers he could use disappearing into thin air — making him freeze on the spot. His lips parted slightly yet no sound left his lips, nothing was even trying to escape his lips.

He shuts them again, eyes frantically searching for something to look at. Everything but you. But you didn't let him as you furrowed your eyebrows, adding more emotions to your frown.

"Rudo." you called out, this time his name wasn't spoken like a sweet addiction. "Don't even think about finding an excuse."

"[name], I wasn't..!" he immediately denied and couldn't help but face you again, "I wasn't... trying to find an excuse."

"Okay." you accepted with another complaint or question, lips curling into a smile again, "then it's fine. I don't want to force you to answer."

"I-I didn't feel pressured at all." a small part of him did. "It's just—"

"No need to tell me." you assured him

and slid the bag towards his direction, the same sweet smile on your lips.

The boy blinked a few times, his cheeks painted in a rosy red before he slowly placed the bag of coins on top of the counter. "I really... like you." he confessed shyly, now his whole face heating up.

You could even see the steam coming out of his head, leaving a cute trail in the air — amidst the savoury scent of the bakery. And to be honest, you can't even laugh or say something, you can't brush it off as if he joking.

Because you know he was being genuine, his vulnerability and feelings on display.

With that being said, you could only shut your eyes and open them again. "You like me?" you gaped and asked again to make sure you heard right, your cheeks heating up.

"Ido." he confirmed very quickly, almost inaudible.

"Like... me." you repeated, eyes lighting up at the confession. "You mean the like or the like like?"

"Err..." he trailed off and dropped his gaze to the ground, his eyes telling you how embarrassed he felt. "The like like, I guess..."

"I like you too." if it wasn't instantly, it was something that. You didn't hesitate to return his feelings and held tightly onto the counter.

His head slowly lifted again, eyes widened and his ears red like his ears — gaping like a fish would. "Ahhh..." he breathed out speechlessly and blinked, whole face slowly turning into a tomato.

The moment he met your determined gaze, he couldn't help but cover his face and — dash out? The bells rang in the bakery again as he abruptly left the room, leaving you in slight confusion.

"Rudo, you forgot your sweets..!" you called out, voice trying to reach out for him.

Suddenly — the door opened again as he slowly walked in, his gloved hand still covering his under face. "I— Uh, Sorry for leaving so fast... E-Excuse me. Please..?" he stuttered and was about to leave the store again.

"Pastries!" you immediately called after him, forcing him to turn back and take the bag.

"How u-uncool." he blushed heavily.

"See you..." a smile crossed your face, holding onto his hand as your cheeks turned red. "See you tomorrow, yes?"

"I— Yeah sure... S-See you tomorrow..." he walked out again, now slower and more robotically.

"Ahhh..." when he left, you leaned over the counter and took a moment to regain your composure — not able to process what just happened. "I feel so embarrassed..."

NIJIKU ZANKA.

　"GOOD morning..!" your booming voice echoed in the halls of the Headquarters.

Without hesitating any further, you pushed the double doors, which lead into the Cleaner's dining room. Your lips curling into the most motivated and cheerful smile ever.

"[name], good morning!" Riyo returned your greeting and flashed the everlasting grin. "How unusual! It seems like you got sleep this night."

"Oh err yeah..." you sheepishly rubbed the back of your head and chuckled, "I think I was just straight up dead after that mission."

"Must've been tiring, huh? Here! Eat, eat and regain your energy!" she ushered you to, hands on your shoulders as she pushed you to the food.

"I will." you dragged yourself with the help of Riyo to the breakfast.

"Maybe you should drink tea too! Or coffee? Whatever keeps you awake." she grinned and forced you to sit down on a random table.

Random table. Which table you would like to know? Somewhere in front of Nijiku Zanka, the guy who absolutely hates your guts. No, he already despises you to the core probably.

"Erm thank you." you said one last time before Riyo disappeared into the crowd of cleaners.

Stiffly turning your attention back to the male sitting in front of you, you couldn't help but let out a broken laugh. "Ha ha ha... Good morning to you too, Zanka." your voice sounded robotic and kind of forced.

"Oh. Mornin'." in a swift movement, he met your eyes for barely a second and averted them again — now piercing his food with his gaze.

At some point you're sure that he doesn't even need a knife. He can simply cut through the meat with his glare. Or frown, you can't make it out since he always wears this stoic expression on his face.

The dry reply scratched like fork against porcelain plate in your ears. You awkwardly sank your head to your own plate and slowly began to eat your food, just like him.

In complete silence.

Speaking honestly, the silence hurt. Like — it hurt in your ears. As if someone screaming right into your ears. And worst of all, you could even hear your own heart pounding.

"Semiu needs both of us for a task." he spoke up, immediately coming to the point.

Zanka lied. He totally was lying. Semiu only needed him for the task and mentioned it would be good for you to join, which wasn't necessarily though. Yet it got over his head and he wanted you to join so badly.

"Oh... Really?" you questioned to make sure that you heard him.

Perhaps this is a trap. Yes, this must be one. He might get you off the picture by killing you and making it look like an accident, which totally wasn't an accident. And everyone's going to believe him!

Yet the idea quickly hopped off your mind again. It was ridiculous, not to mention. Zanka is a professional cleaner who doesn't let his emotions and own judgements come into the way.

He can be objective and look at the important things, ignoring his thoughts throughout the course. So he would never try to harm you and say it was an accident, right?

"Today, in a few hours. In front of Semiu's office." he informed you, keeping his speech brief.

You slowly looked up from your plate and stared at the male in front of you. It was a short moment before he met your gaze. You flinched in surprise, eyes wandering over to the wall.

Oh shit, he caught you staring.

How embarrassing. Your cheeks heated up, painted in a rosy red as sweat formed on your forehead. He felt your glance. That guy can feel stares. Especially yours it seems.

"Something wrong?"

"No..! Nothing." you immediately replied, eyes blinking and flickering over to him from time to time.

"Really?"

"Yes. Really." you let out an awkward chuckle and tried to smile at him, covering your own surprise.

"Yer lying." he figured easily, his eyes roaming around your face.

"I totally am." you admitted and closed your eyes for a second, "is my facade that bad?"

He hummed and averted eye contact again, not touching fork and knife. "Why the long face?" he questioned quietly, surprising you slightly. The clear hint of concern in his voice.

"Because... Well— Uh." you tripped over your own words, not knowing how to respond.

Can you possibly tell him that you're afraid of him? Yes, you can. Isn't it rather rude? To ask someone if they hated you. Maybe you have to carry the words in another way.

"Do you hate me?" you blurted out and not even a second later, you facepalmed.

The straightforwardness killed you on the spot, there was no ill intentions laced in your words though. So you hoped he wouldn't misunderstand your silly and rude question.

"I—" he trailed off, the shock vivid on his face. "What... did ya say?"

"SORRY!" you apologised in a booming voice, pulling in some stares from the others.

"N-No... What did ya say?" he cracked a smile, it was a rather a nervous what-should-I-do smile.

"Nevermind."

"No, not nevermind."

"Do you... hate me?" you nervously tapped your feet against the ground.

"No!" he immediately denied, his shock converting into a blank face.

Oh — he couldn't help himself. "Sorry." he apologised curtly and coughed, trying his best to hide his embarrassment. "...actually I would love to know, why ya think that?"

"Because..." you covered your face, "I don't know. You act like you couldn't even stand me... Like that one time when I trained Rudo and you took him back without hesitation. Or when we sparred. You won and immediately left? Err I don't know. It seemed like you hate me."

"Is that so..?" he blinked and turned his head away. "To clarify a few things, I don't hate ya. No never... Quite the opposite even."

"Quite the opposite?" you gaped, cheeks heating up.

"No wait, I didn't—" he shuts his mouth again before he creates another misunderstanding.

Oh no — he will not create another one.

"I like ya." he confessed. "I would never think about hatin' ya."

"You like me?" you shut your mouth again.

"I'm not repeatin' myself fer ya."

"You like me..."

"Stop, ya look like an idiot right now..."

"Zanka LIKES me!?"

"STOP SHOUTIN'!"

ENJIN.

　ONE month is over already. Today thirty days ago, you made a bet with the one and only Enjin and won it with your price being able to confiscate his cigarettes and lighter.

Perhaps he cheated and actually did smoke a few times in secret. That is, if he seriously couldn't live without it and that would also make him lose the title »a man of his word«.

But you know you can count on Enjin and put your full faith into him, since well — he was a man of his word of course. He did good, surviving a month without smoking. Definitely better for his health.

And now that the time limit is over, you can finally give the things to its rightful owner. You could only hear his lungs screaming multiple »thank you«'s for the break they got.

"Here you go!" you greeted the blond-haired man, placing the box of cigarettes and a lighter on the table.

"Lovely greeting." he chuckled and eyed at his own belongings, now sitting nicely on the table.

"Good morning, sorry." you smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of your neck, "or good afternoon."

"Well good afternoon." his gaze lingering on the table. "Got a morning task again?"

"Nope, I was away with Riyo. I promised her to hang out because I've been busy the last couple of days." you sat down in front of him and placed one leg over the other, a relieved sigh leaving your lips.

"So you went out without me?" he feigned hurt while his eyes were laced with amusement.

"Of course we did. No male creatures are allowed on our girl's trip!" you played, going along his acting. "Hey wait, don't talk as if you aren't going out all day and night by yourself while causing trouble."

"Cause trouble?" he gasped in disbelief as if your arrow pierced straight through his heart. "I would never think about causing trouble."

"Yeah sure." you rolled your eyes. "Don't be a baby, yes? You always disappear without a trace."

"Miss me or what?" he joked.

"I do." your lips curled into a smile.

His eyes widened slightly just like the excited grin Were you being serious or sarcastic? He hard no sarcasm in though and your smile seemed genuine. "Naw, aren't you being a sweetheart?"

"Stop with those cheesy pet names." you shook your head frantically, feeling a little embarrassed by that.

"You're making me want to call you more pet names now." he teased with the typical smirk, he always wears.

"Please don't, Enjin." you sweat dropped.

"But it's fun to see you like this!"

"What a tease." you shook your head, "go do something instead of teasing me."

"Like what?"

"Err— You can smoke a round." you blurted out, now staring at the package of cigarettes before realising what you said.

"Aren't you the one who wants me to stop?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Woops, didn't mean to. It just slipped because I was staring at it the whole time." you covered your mouth in surprise, "no wait. I mean there's so much you can do. Don't smoke."

"Hmm, really?" he mused quietly, which was unlike him, "wanna play a round black jack?"

"Oh black jack?" you blinked. "So you can lose again?"

"Lose? Excuse you?" he grinned. "I'm going to win this round."

"Sure, yes." you smiled as he got a pack of cards from out of nowhere and began to shuffle them throughly.

"Don't believe me?" he handed you out two cards and himself also a pair.

"I do." you lied and took a glimpse of hidden card, then drawing another card, "hit."

"Hit?" he repeated and shook his head, "stand?"

"You got a good hand it seems." you mused and gazed at your own cards.

Should you risk it?

"Is there something you want if you win? That is, if you actually win." you questioned while still contemplating if you should draw another card and risk it.

If you counted the numbers together, the sum would be seventeen. Far away from twenty-one — you would never win with this hand. Not if he's being this confident with his current hand.

"Yeah, I got there a little request." he admitted, "from last time even."

"Hit." you risked it, curiosity getting the better of you — your eyes lit up. "Blackjack. I won!"

"Are you sure?" he chuckled and finally revealed his two cards.

An ace and a ten, the best combo you could get in the game. "Why didn't you say so...?" your expression converted into a blank one, not even looking at your own three cards.

"I just wanted to see that cute gleam in your eyes." he smiled.

"Being an asshole right now, I see." you tutted.

"Now now... There is no rule to immediately inform the other player if you got a blackjack. You do it to not cause any misunderstandings."

"Shut up..." you grumbled, "so? What do you want?"

"Oh, I want a kiss."

Silence took over. You blinked slowly but surely, figuring that you did hear right about his demand. He wants what? Hesitantly, your eyes roamed over his face, trying to make out any hint of irony.

"You... want what?" you asked.

"A kiss." he pointed at his own lips and then on his cheek, the smile turning into a smirk. "What now, are you too shy? Come on, don't be a baby about it. It's just a kiss on the cheek."

"It's just a kiss, he said." you felt the sweat forming on your skin, the sheer embarrassment catching up with you as your cheeks heated up.

"It's only fair. I won the game and now I get to claim my prize."

"Uh... Yeah..." you trailed off, suddenly feeling too shy to even move an inch.

"Frozen on spot."

He lifted himself from the seat and walked the two steps towards you, looking down at you while you gazed up to him. And then — he leaned in, close to your face that you could feel his breath hitting your skin.

"A-Ah..." you stuttered in surprise at the closeness.

"Come on. Give me my well deserved prize." he whispered.

"Okay..." you hesitated, still not able to believe what was happening.

But you pushed your own confusion away and planted a sweet kiss against his cheek while your own cheeks were red as hell. "Errr... Here." you trailed off awkwardly.

"You're so cute."

"What?" you blinked, the confusion still vivid on your face.

"It's one of the things I love about you." he even emphasised the word.

"Y-You— What?" you gulped and panicked slightly.

His lips curled into a sly yet innocent smile. Was that even possible? Or maybe it was his innocent smile paired with yellow, sly eyes.

"You heard me right."

© 2025 kumasakka — do not plagiarize , copy , modify , translate our work !

[aymmichurros]

the fact that these two people have been dating for apparently 4 years seems odd.... but fitting

[malenio]

blue collar!husband!toji came home injured

MDNI 18+

“Love you, ma.”

A frown crosses your face after receiving the message from your husband, Toji. A sudden I love you after he absolutely made your blood boil this morning? This man had the audacity to leave his dirty clothes on the floor again instead of the laundry basket. Weird.

Unless he’s staring death in the face or something— then maybe, maybe it makes sense.

You scoff silently and type back, “Yeah, I know. Don’t forget to buy everything on the list I gave you. Love you too.”

You head to the living room after getting the last load of laundry done, sitting cross-legged on the floor with piles of clean clothes waiting to be folded. You stretch. Time to get this over with.

Two hours later— a backache, a cup of cold coffee that turned lukewarm, and White Chicks playing on TV— you’re finally done. Groaning, you stand up after sitting for too long and stack the folded clothes into the basket for the first trip upstairs.

You’re on your second trip when the front door creaks open, followed by soft grunts and heavy footsteps.

Toji.

Your eyes light up, and you hurry downstairs to greet him—only to stop dead in your tracks.

He's standing in the doorway, groceries scattered around his feet, and a patch of gauze taped over his cheek. A medical one. You know it too well. Toji only gets that patch when he’s been properly hurt.

“What the fuck, baby?” Your panicked voice snaps his attention to you.

He frowns. “What the fuck what?”

“That!” you shout, pointing at his cheek.

He touches the patch absentmindedly and scoffs. “Oh, this? Just a damn scratch. Got it at work.”

You palm your face, speechless. Striding over to him, you cradle his face in your hands, inspecting the wound.

“It’s not a fucking scratch. It’s a goddamn open wound, Toji!”

He swats your hands away gently, rolling his eyes as he scoops you up in one arm and the groceries in the other. “Open wound, scratch— same thing. Don’t make a fuss, I’m still alive.”

He carries you into the kitchen and sets you down on the counter next to the bags, caging you between his arms. Then, he leans down and inhales the scent at your neck— his home.

You sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck, your fingers working at the tight muscles on his shoulders.

“Is that why you texted me I love you?” you whisper.

He hums against your skin, his tongue already tasting the curve of your neck. One hand parts your thighs while the other grips your hip, pulling you closer until you can feel the outline of his bulge pressing between your legs.

You whimper, your grip on his neck tightening,“Toji. Not the fucking time to fuck. You just had a near-death experience.”

He shuts you up with a kiss— rough, desperate, hungry.

“I know, ma,” he murmurs against your lips, voice hoarse. “But I’m alive, right? Still intact. Big ol’ muscles. Still handsome and hot in your arms right now, ready to pound my sexy wife.”

You hit his chest lightly, pouting, “Stop scaring me. You always do this! Doing something out of your routine and coming back with new injuries.”

He exhales, hands still, “At least I’m in your arms, baby. Don’t make me feel like this… it’s killing me.”

“It’s killing me too when you do this,” you choke out, voice cracking as you sob into his chest.

His eyes widen in panic. He hugs you tightly. “Hey, hey, come on now.” He tries to laugh, but it comes out shaky. “I’m sorry. I won’t do that again.”

This time, he knows he fucked up. Usually, you’d scold him and let it go. But this time? It’s different. A deep wound slashes across his face, and it ended with a hospital visit— one you honestly wish you didn’t have to know about. He didn’t stay hydrated on-site, started getting a headache, and didn’t even realise the grinder blade had shattered— until it broke through his safety shield. It knocked him out cold, and his cheeks took the worst of it.

No.

He can’t ever let you go through this again. Can’t let the woman who is his home, his reason for breathing, cry like this in his arms. Not for something he could’ve prevented.

He runs his hand down your back, comforting you. His voice softens, “I’m really sorry. I promise. Please trust me, ma. It was an accident.”

“I can’t stop accidents from happening to you. I just want you to take care of yourself.” You sniff. “Have you even eaten?”

He chuckles, kissing your damp eyelashes. “Yeah. I had something earlier. Just a sandwich though. Mind to make me dinner, wife?” With a clumsy flick, he pushed your hair aside, and when your glossy eyes met, his softened almost—instantly.

You finally laugh through the tears, “You never ask me to, but fine. What do you want for dinner, husband?”

You run your hands along his chest.

He grins, dark heat flashing in his eyes as his hands move to your ass. “How about Mrs. Fushiguro instead? I can make your whole damn night full of my cum. No need for food.”

Your eyes go wide. “That’s disgusting, Toji…” but your stomach fluttered.

Right. As if he doesn’t do that every night without fail — to the point you’re changing the sheets daily.

He snorts. “Whatever that means. Legs up.”

You roll your eyes but lift your legs onto his shoulders anyway. Toji kisses down your thigh, slow and deliberate, then pulls your panties off with his teeth. His eyes burn with a primal hunger as he catches a whiff of your arousal, nose twitching involuntarily.

“No foreplay,” he states flatly — more like a demand.

He unbuckles his belt, and his length springs free, already leaking.

You swallow hard as he nudges your entrance with the tip.

“Already wet for me, ma.”

“A…ah, Toji…”

“Shush. Almost halfway in. God, you’re so tight for me.” He throws his head back as he bottoms out, groaning.

You reach for something solid to hold onto as the thrusts grow rough. He hooks your arms around his neck, thrusting without warning.

“Toji… slow down. It’s too much,” you gasp, moaning, dragging your nails across his back.

He doesn’t flinch.

“You’re gonna take it. Just moan and spread wider.”

You shut your eyes, surrendering, tilting your head to the side so he can lick your neck. You can only moan and obey, spreading just how he wants, while he slams into you like a feral animal.

Haa… it’s gonna be a long night.

۶ৎ - @girlinaquietspace @miffyliebe @itzmeme

𖹭.ᐟ hi! I'm finally free from exam so I'm going to update when I'm free. also, I'm so sorry for those who wait for k!ller!jason

:(( I'm currently working on so it should be done by this week and thank you so much for 1k likes!!! Didn't even expect them to blow up (⁠｡⁠•́⁠︿⁠•̀⁠｡⁠) thank you so much once again 🥺🤍 let me know if you want to be in anything in my blogs even though it's nothing special lolll

[onlyywwon]

THIS IS OURS - BND

⟡ ( 星星 ) … “got drunk in this dawn. i want to promise eternity. pulling you into my arms. i hope this night never ends. i need somebody, no, i only need you, come on. sing 'i love you' everyday.” ‘ 宝贵的 ’ ♡ 

╰ a/n: i'm baaackk !! this is my first bnd work, and one i've started a while ago. was listening to so let's go see the stars (one of their best songs like) and started brainstorming little scenarios in my head, and boom ! this came :D hope you guys enjoy this as much as i did writing it. content warnings/genre and pairings will be listed below for each of the members ! i haven't proof read yet! i'm sleep asf it's almost 7 am crying.

' PARK SUNGHO '

pairing: bf!sungho + fem!reader genre: fluff, slice of life, established relationship, mentions of walking in rain without an umbrella, holding hands, wholesome cuteness.

class had just ended, and all you could think was of was collapsing into bed finally, finally getting some sleep. well to be fair,  you had mentally checked out two hours ago when your boring lecture started. but now, walking out throw the main exit of your university, you tugged your bag closer by its strap and let the quiet relief of the end of the day seep into your bones.

it had lightly rained just moments before, the kind of summer rain where it feels like a daydream, witnessing raindrops drizzle down, glistening in the light from the sun that never hid behind the clouds all the time it poured. you watched it as you drowned out your professor’s words earlier during class.

the pavement shimmered beneath your shoes, the sleek puddles reflecting streaks of burning orange and soft lavender that spilled out from the sunset sky. the air was fresh and smelt of petrichor, a gentle breeze carrying it. you pulled your jacket closer to your body just as a familiar voice called out to you. you’d recognize that voice anywhere as your boyfriend’s.

sungho jogged up beside you, a small grin stretched across his face. his hair was slightly damp, the lingering tiny droplets on his brown locks shining when it caught light. he reached out and laced his fingers with yours, drawing you close to him, “hi pretty.”

“did you run all the way from the music department in the rain yeppi?” you giggled, your unoccupied hand reaching out to ruffle his hair, the droplets flying off, some flicking onto your face.

he just shrugged, his broad shoulders looking more broad at the action, as his lips jutted out, “maybe i did, maybe i didn’t.” he just tugged you closer, turning around and walking down the road, hand-in-hand, beside each other.

“i thought you fell asleep in there,” he teased, bumping your shoulders playfully. you winced dramatically, empty hand reaching out to hold your shoulder, pouting, “oww! using your broad shoulders to knock your girlfriend over? how not very gentleman of you.”

you looked so cute offended, lips pouting, cheeks puffed, the warm orange glow of the setting sun made you look so irresistible that sungho had to lean in to press a kiss to your cheek, rendering you speechless mid complain about his ‘assault’ on you.

your gaze returned to the pavement ahead of you as you mumbled with flushed cheeks, “i almost did, but then i remembered someone saying we were going to get ice cream later after class, so i stayed up to not look unpresentable.”

“oh, must be someone very cute that offered it to you, huh?” he said squeezing your hand as his lips quirked up in a cheeky grin. “also, you don’t look unpresentable, you look pretty all the time. even with your hair all mussed up!”, he said reaching out to ruffle your hair this time.

you rolled your eyes, as you playfully swatted his hands away, fixing your hair, but couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face by the second. the two of you walked past the campus, voices quiet, talking about everything and nothing. how he had to put up with jaehyun’s constant teasing, about how taesan almost tripped over a stone on his way to the basketball court cause he was not looking ahead while walking, and all the silly little shenanigans he endured during the day.

and you told him about yours — the awfully boring lectures, your random craving for chocolate milk, how beautiful it looked outside the window earlier when it was raining, how you remembered his promise of getting you ice cream, everything, 

the city around you glowed in that way it only does after it has rained — puddles puddled up on the wet concrete, shining when it caught light, reflecting everything, like the buildings in which it formed in front of, the beautiful orange-lavender ombre of the sky in all its afterglow, the sun bidding good bye as it slipped past the horizon quietly.

the two of you stood amidst it all, walking home — not knowing that the true home lied in each other’s comfort when they were together. the two of you walked home slowly, as if you two had nowhere else to be.

you forgot all about passing out on the warm bed back at home, booking a ticket to dreamland and hitting snooze. all your worries and the coiled tension in your muscles, slipped out and relaxed itself everytime sungho rubbed mindless circles onto the back of your laced hands.

and honestly, you didn’t want to go back home anytime soon — not without him by your side at least.

' LEE RIWOO '

pairing: bf!riwoo + fem!reader genre: fluff, established relationship, mentions of food, cutie riwoo

it started out simple, the two of you were craving something sweet, going on about desserts in your chats with him, when riwoo asked you to get ready to go out. and who were you to say no to him?

what followed was three hours of wandering down bustling streets, neon sign blinking in every direction, and ducking into little cafes with a mission on your mind — find that one spot, just for the two of you.

“this is the last one,” he said, as the two of you reached a tucked away spot, near the end of the street. the cafe in front of you had a retro vibe to it, vintage albums displayed by the window, lit up by golden string lights, ivy crawling up the walls and tangling around the neon sign.

riwoo held the door open for you, as you entered, him right on your tail and the whole place was way more immersive than on the outside. the tables and chairs were warm wood toned, and so were the accent walls. a jazz playlist was on in the background, soft chatters in the distance floating around. when you found out you could occupy a secluded private booth just for the two of you, riwoo’s hand tugged you towards the hallway near the back of the cafe.

both of you reached stood before the door, before opening it, revealing a cozy little room, two wooden chairs tucked away into the table, looking out at a garden at the back, lit up with more golden fairy lights and so much plants. the two of you sat close, knees bumping under the table, giving your orders to the waiter that knocked and entered right after.

riwoo ordered donuts and you got hot cocoa. the conversation faded into talks about the day, and tomorrow and then the future and so on, amidst the soft glances and knees brushing under the table as his hands grazed yours above the table. you giggled, reaching over to wipe the frosting from his lips, while he just melted into your touch.

the saxophone in the background drifted slowly, the tune changing, and with it the atmosphere in the the little room got a bit charged.

he stood up first, holding a hand out to you with a shy little smile, that reached up to his eyes, when you slipped your hands into his. the two of you moved to the center of the spacious room, eyes never leaving the others. his hands found purchase on your waist, hesitant, yet warm, while yours settled on his shoulders, and the two of you began to sway to the slow rhythm of the song. 

no one watched. no one needed to. this was your little moment. 

the beat continued to flow, and you don’t know when your flushed cheeks came to rest on his chest, where you could hear the calm rhythm of his heart.

“this feels like a scene from a youth movie,” you whispered, drunk in the moment. you felt the low hum in his chest as he agreed, pressing a kiss to your temple.

' MYUNG JAEHYUN '

pairing: bf!jaehyun + fem!reader genre: fluff, established relationship, slice of life, coming of age-ish, comfort, implied exhaustion, implied football captain!jaehyun (raaahh!) and yearbook editor reader

you had been waiting for this — for him, for the longest of times, and you’re sure he has been too, considering the unhealthy amount of messages he’d send in between his breaks during football practice before either taesan had to pull him back by his ears (lovingly) or the coach did it himself (not so lovingly).

the school board’s surprise camping trip had been the first time in weeks your schedules aligned, you being busy with the yearly school magazine shoots. the two of you shared a knowing glance then in the school auditorium when the trip was announced and right now. you hadn’t even unpacked properly, before you caught his eyes from across the campfire, and he gave you that little smile — only meant for you, the one that made your stomach flip. you already knew that the two of you were thinking the same thing.

so later in the night, when everyone fell asleep after getting sugar high from the amount of smores they had, which was already quite late in the night, and the quiet of the night settled in with the scent of the pine surrounding you and smoke from the slowly dying campfire, you quietly slipped out of your sleeping bag. sneakers in hand, you tiptoed into the back of the camp area.

you spotted jaehyun leaning against a pine tree, already waiting for you. when he caught sight of you, he pushed himself off the bark and ran to you, engulfing you in a hug, arms secured around your waist. “hey,” he whispered, head nuzzled into your hair, breathing you in. he pulled back, brushing the hair out of your eyes, his hoodie sleeves engulfing his hands, “i already brought the blanket.”

“you remembered,” your lips curved upwards, eyes shining up at him.

“you said you wanted to watch the sunrise with me,” he replied softly, the reply coming out automated, as he seemed to get lost in your eyes.

the two of you walked in silence, save for the crickets humming in the distance, the forest alive with quiet life as moonlight filtered through the trees, hands already laced.

when the clearing came to view, it left you both breathless. tucked away at the edge of the hill, scattered stars blinking above, swimming in the fading royal blue and soft pink sky, the late night city lights shining below as your eyes trained in on the faint lights of cars moving on the highway.

while you admired the view, behind you, jaehyun spread the blanket out on the gravel, and opened his arms wordlessly when you turned around for him. you didn’t hesitate, immediately sitting down between his legs, back leaning against his chest as his arms wrapped around you, his chin perched atop your shoulder.

the night air was chilly, but his body was warm against yours. your hands brushed against his that sat on your waist, before settling there, above his. neither of you spoke for a while, basking in the other’s warmth and the moment itself after weeks of hectic schedules.

time passed, and the two of you could spot the crown of the sun just peeking at the horizon, clouds huddled around it like bodyguards to a celebrity. the blue has completely lessened now, the skies bleeding orange and pink as the sun climbed higher and higher, revealing itself from beyond the horizon, the warms streaks of sunlight providing more warmth to your huddled figures.

jaehyun presses a kiss to the top of your head, his heart warm with overflowing affection.

“sunsets don’t mean a thing without you.”

' HAN DONGMIN '

pairing: bf!taesan + fem!reader genre: fluff, established relationship, sleeplessness, comfort, warm love, mild emotional fatigue

it was one of those nights where sleep just wouldn’t come. and you were not alone, your boyfriend taesan laid beside you, tossing and turning, pulling the blanket up and shoving it back done with his feet. no matter what, you two couldn’t even get a wink of sleep, even after two hours had passed by after the two of you called it a night.

you felt the shift of the bed, as taesan sat up, turning towards you, “love, you still awake?” you just hummed in response, staring back at the ceiling, hoping sleep would just come to take the two of you to dreamland. 

the pair of you stayed still for a while, listening to the sound of the trees swaying softly outside, before he stood up.

you blinked, “where’re you going?”

“i have an idea,” he mumbled, hands brushing through his hair. “come with me.”

you followed him, barefoot and sleepy, as he pulled the big blanket off of the bed, and walked towards the balcony, unlocking it and sliding it open. you watched as he laid the blanket out on the balcony floor, and came back in to collect a few pillows off the bed, before padding back to the balcony, you on his trail.

it was quiet outside, except for the rustle of leaves, and the nocturnal activities buzzing outside. he organized the pillows for the two of you, and crawled onto it, patting the space beside him. “c’mere, love.”

you propped yourself next to him, on your back, pulling the other blanket over your bodies. he didn’t say much when you reached for his hand under the covers, but silently laced your fingers together. “look,” he whispered after a minute, eyes fixed above. the sky was a deep navy, stars distributed everywhere, you could make off a few constellations with your eyes tracing the tiny dots.

“it’s so beautiful,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper. his head turned to you, a soft smile grazing his features. you shifted closer, placing your head on his shoulder, while his hand let go of yours to settle on your waist. “i hope this night never ends,” he breathes out, his hold on you tightening, pulling you more to him.

“let’s do this forever then, for eternity,” you mumbled, eyes fluttering close.

' KIM DONGHYUN '

pairing: bf!leehan + fem!reader genre: fluff, established relationship, implied exhaustion, academic stress, sneaking out at night, kinda implied that the reader has strict parents

your eyes were starting to blur, the sleepy haze settling in your vision. it was past midnight, your textbook was opened up in front of you, half completed assignments sprawled onto your desk in all directions. the only light in the room, save for the sliver of moonlight streaming in, came from your desk lamp casting a soft glow on the papers — and your tired face.

you were in the middle of re-reading a paragraph for the third time, forgetting to understand it the past two times as you read it mindlessly, nothing registering in your fading consciousness. that was when you heard it — or you thought you did, unless your mind was playing tricks on you.

tap. you blinked, did you hear that or were your ears playing a trick on you? you shook your head, rubbing your eyes, and sitting up properly so that you could think straight.

tap. tap. tap. 

okay now you were sure you weren’t hearing things in your delirious state.

you walked towards your window from where you heard the noise, confusion and fear creeping in as you pulled back your curtain, half expecting nothing or slenderman.

but to your surprise, you spotted your very boyfriend, standing there beneath your window, hood up, hands in its pockets. his eyes met yours instantly, and he smiled softly.

you quietly unlocked the window just enough, the cold air hitting you, causing you to shiver, before you regained your composure and whisper-shouted at him, “are you crazy?! someone’s gonna see you!”

he shrugged like it off like it was nothing, walking closer, his tone unwavering as he answered loud enough for only you to hear, “then come down here.”

“what?”

“come on, hurry up!” hesitantly, you tugged your jacket draped on your chair, shoving your hands in it, while you slowly pulled the door open, tiptoeing down the stairs, slipping in your slippers, exiting out the front door.

you trudged over to him, and he turned to you, earnest and calm. “i was walking by and saw your light on, so i had a hunch you were still up studying. i, uh.. thought that maybe you forgot what the stars look like,” he said rubbing the back of his neck, waiting for your response.

you wouldn’t lie, your chest ached at the thought of it. of course he’d notice something like this. the way you’ve been drowning yourself with way too many assignments, the way your shoulders would slump the moment you entered through the front door after a long day and he walked you back home, the way the light in your room is still switched on, even in ungodly hours. he took note of it all.

“you didn’t have to do this,” you whispered, a little breathless.

“i wanted to,” he countered, his tone soft, yet firm.

and then he nodded towards the empty road, “come on, i’ll show you my favorite spot.” the two of you walked side by side, shoulders brushing, and fingers grazing, before he took your hand and pulled it into his hoodie pocket, thumb brushing over it to provide warmth. you walked until you reached the end of the street — a small hill past fences, where the grass overgrew, and little wildflowers stuck out.

for some reason, the sky looked even larger from here. and the stars were everywhere. beside the waning moon, that looked beautiful tonight, they stood, shining like gems studded onto a sleek canvas of skies.

after a while, you heard him murmur, “you don’t have to keep pushing so hard all the time, y’know?”

you turned your head at that, “what do you mean?”

he stared back at you, gaze unwavering, “that you forget you’re a person. like how the moon and the stars watch over us, i will always watch over you. take your mind off of things when it gets hectic.”

you felt all your words get stuck in your throat, slightly tearing up at his words, before resolving a slow nod instead.

neither of you said another word. just stood there, hands laced in his hoodie pockets, staring ahead at the twinkling sky.

' KIM WOONHAK '

pairing: crush!woonhak + fem!reader (ft. eunchae, jihoon, gunwook and riki) genre: fluff, slice of life, reader and woonhak are oblivious, mutual pining, public confession (kinda??)

the balloon in your hand slipped from your fingers for the third time in the last few minutes. “okay, that’s it,” eunchae groaned from beside you, shooting a glare at the stubborn tape that refused to hold anything up. “if this one pops, i’m going home.” tonight was the university music festival, and all the students were huddled in the spacious auditorium, arranging chairs, hanging up decorations and banners, and checking the sound system and more.

you and eunchae were on balloon duty, blowing them up and sticking them to the walls. you laughed under your breath at eunchae’s comment, even though your hands were trembling slightly. not from the balloons, but the boy standing a few feet away.

kim woonhak.

you could see him shuffle backstage with jihoon, as he adjusted the mic setup meanwhile the latter stood on a ladder, fixing the position of the speaker. you could hear him before you even saw him — whining about the heat, the wires, the assignments he had to complete by tonight, everything really. 

and you liked it, you liked him. you liked loud, dramatic, whiny and the bright as sunshine woonhak.

“y/n, hurry up,” eunchae nudged your side, bringing you back from your thoughts, “you can stare at him later.” “i wasn’t-”

“you were,” she said smugly, as you handed her a pink balloon, grumbling, and cheeks burning.

the two of you continued with the task at hand, almost done, before your class president, gunwook waved the both of you off. “the two of you have done enough, it’s okay, i’ll do the rest,” he smiled, before turning around and taping the balloons to the wall himself.

eunchae dragged you to the edge of the stage, plopping down on the polished wood, elbows propped on her knees, as she complained about her cheeks hurting from all the balloons she blew. you agreed to her sentiments, your arms aching after all that work, covering your ears when you heard high pitched frequencies screech through the space, courtesy to the two boys that were still making some final adjustments to the sound system backstage.

you groaned, as eunchae muttered something about compensation for broken eardrums, leading you to chuckle at her words. 

“you do realise i can see you stealing glances at her, right?”

you blinked. that was jihoon’s voice, laced with a teasing tone.

everyone stopped what they were doing, focusing on the origin of the sound. 

“i did not!” 

that was the unmistakable voice of woonhak, his tone whiny and defensive.

huh? what’s going on? “oh come on, just admit it. you like her — no, you’re head over heels in love with her, aren’t you?”

“wait, what?”, you could see eunchae’s mouth form an ‘o’ shape as you froze beside her.

woonhak likes someone?

“okay fine! maybe i am, so what?! what do you want me to do, go over and say — ‘hey, y/n, i know this may sound a bit weird and sudden, but i like you’?”

wait- y/n? that’s you — wait what?

“like? you have had a big fat crush on her for like how long? three years, maybe even four? that has to be love at some point.”

you felt your breath catch as your heart worked hard to pump enough oxygen to keep you upright. you stared at the floor, heart thudding so loud, you barely heard eunchae whisper, “holy shit.”

you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. you slowly turned around to peek at eunchae whose eyes were wide in surprise, before a cheeky grin spread across her features. your head perked up at the sound of nishimura riki, a dance major, who shouted from across the stage, before jogging his way backstage.

“hey, so, umm, quick news flash — the mics were on.. and so were the speakers. and well now..”

you heard a snicker and a gasp, and then footsteps. 

a distressed woonhak walks back into everyone’s view from the backstage, peeking his flushed face from behind the curtains in embarrassment of confessing in public unknowingly. his eyes inspected the room of stunned students staring back at him, before they land on you. you quickly ducked your head, now focusing on the wood pattern the floors of the auditorium adorned.

you heard footsteps approaching you, and you knew who it was, but you kept your head down, refusing to meet his gaze in disbelief. you saw his pair of sneakers occupy the spot on the polished floor you were staring at, and you took a deep breath, before lifting your head up to meet his gaze.

“...hi,” he mumbled, shy eyes, and red ears, his hands nervously fidgeting with the hem of his jacket.

“that wasn’t.. how i planned to say that. at all.” you blinked, surprise taking over your features at the thought of woonhak’s planned confession, which you may never get to see.

“i was building up to it, until.. this happened,” he murmured, gesturing to the speakers, that were now turned off. “i swear, i didn’t know that it was on!” he exclaimed, frustration lacing his tone, and his lips drawn into a pout.

you swallowed the nervousness bubbling in your throat, “so you meant it?”

he nodded again, a sheepish smile on his lips, “every word.”

there was a pause, and you felt butterflies twirling in your stomach. “i guess i’ll see you later at the festival tonight then,” you murmured, gaze on your thumb that was brushing the seam of your pants, before raising your head to meet his gaze again — shy, but more steady this time. woonhak froze, his eyes widening just a little. and then he blinked — and a flustered, dopey smile bloomed, wide and impossibly bright. “yeah, tonight.” he breathed out, almost like he couldn’t believe it. and then he said it again, firmer this time, nodding to himself, “okay, cool. tonight i’ll see you then.”

you smiled, heart melting at the sight of him so giddy, before turning around to leave with eunchae, who definitely had lots to say.

behind you, he was still standing in the same spot, his hand covering his mouth, like he had to physically stop himself from grinning too hard and jumping up and down in front of the now dispersing student body.

riki and jihoon just stood there behind him on the side, smirking and sharing a mischievous look at each other, before bumping their fists together quietly, “pound it.”

taglist: @emisluvr @wonbyyou @hoonlubbylubr

© onlyywwon 2025. all rights reserved.please do not copy, translate, or publish my works on any other sites.

[argumate]

Douthat was constantly owning Thiel in this interview by the simple expedient of asking obvious questions that he was utterly unprepared to answer, and when you're getting owned by Douthat you really need to rethink your life choices because he's very much a fool in his own way, even if he doesn't put his foot in his mouth quite as much as Thiel.

the most obvious clanger was when Douthat asks if Thiel believes the human race should endure, and Thiel -- who had spoken wistfully of personal immortality shortly before -- had nothing to say for a solid ten seconds! like "yes I am against human extinction" or "actually I think transhumanism will render this question moot" was simply beyond him.

but a more pointed question was when Douthat observed that Thiel wants a cure for alzheimers, so he elects a populist who promptly defunds Harvard as he doesn't like it, will this help cure any diseases? and again he has nothing to say besides vague mutterings on how his support for political candidates is "schizophrenic" and the results are "toxic".

you could say the man is a fool but it might just be he is a shrewd operator who wants to be the good guy but simply cannot successfully reconcile his actions with any concept of virtue, leaving him incoherent and speechless.

[j0hnpr1c3sm1ssus]

Simon Riley x Reader

Title: The Morning After

Synopsis: the morning after he stays the night.

Warnings: nothing special, just a fluffy piece.

Prev. --- Next.

Taglist: @fertilise-me , @msjaeger @may-machin

AN: I was gonna add smut to the end but some people aren't interested I'd imagine, so it's cut off to the next, plot nonrelevant, part!

Waking up with Simon's nose pressed firmly against your neck was not what you expected.

He sleeps like a baby, clutching your shirt, clinging to you, afraid you'll leave. And you don't recognise it as that but it so clearly is.

You nudge him awake after a good 20 minutes of just... Waiting. He stirs with a gruff sound, looking up.

"Wot?" He asks, half asleep, "'M comfy."

You chuckle, "I needa shower."

"can I watch?" He mumbles into your neck, causing your entire face and ears to burn with embarrassment, whether or not it's visible.

"Erm.." you look down, "..sure? If you fit in my tub, that is."

"I'll fit," he says matter of factly, reaching up to stroke your hair.

"You're sure? You're sort of..." Your words trail off where he can only assume the word "massive" or "humongous" would be.

He chuckles, a soft sound, "I'll fit."

So this 6'1" behemoth of a man is following you to your bathroom down the hall. He looks in at all your shampoos and conditioners and soaps, already knowing your routine by heart.

When you actually strip infront of him, all bets are off. He's hard as shit, just staring at how perfect your tits are. When he strips, his boxers coming off, cock springing out and literally recoiling slightly, you're speechless.

Why is he massive?

[gayofthefae]

I AGREE!!!!

He has shipped two ships avidly. And they are M!leven and St0bin. 🤦

He didn't clock romance he's just heteronormative. In fact half the time he PROMPTS it, which is NOT the same as noticing something that's THERE.

Also in his book the sheer of times from what I've seen that Dustin is like "Mike just heavily implied he feels the same way about El and Will. He probably meant how they both live in the same house" "Mike and El aren't speaking. Probably because they're just so in love they're speechless"

He gives this mf so many excuses.

Like I love him but that boy is STR8

Dustin Henderson they can never make me believe you could ever clock a queer person without it being said straight to your face you’re a stobin shipper in the year of our lord 1986 for fucks sake.