#But recently I’ve been struggling trying to get started on it

[skellseerwriting]

:0

- 🍙 anon

:>

[circusclownproductions]

UR GINGER???

im sorry ophelia, but idk if we can be friends anymore </3 im gingerphobic

/J /J

Oh boy /lh/nm

[exopelagic]

just take this

[fastandcarlos]

On The Mend : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri

summary: with your lack of presence in the paddock, fans are starting to worry, little do they know that you happen to be a little broken back at home

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 849,183 others

oscarpiastri: another successful week of racing, super proud of the whole team to get the car all the way to P2 this weekend 🏆🏎️

35,058 comments

username1: congratulations oscar, such an awesome drive!!

username2: just a shame that yn wasn’t there to see it once again 🙄

landonorris: so proud of you osc 😭😭😭

username3: surely they can’t still be together, she hasn’t shown her face in weeks…

charles_leclerc: mum is very proud that the two of us were on the podium btw

oscarpiastri: @/charles_leclerc it was all thanks to her pep talk ofc

username4: we’ll still support you osc even if yn won’t

mclaren: the whole team is so proud of you, congratulations oscar!

username5: enjoy the celebrations, I’m sure the team will be there for you at least 🥲

danielricciardo: congrats brother, always nice to see you repping for down under

username6: either something must be seriously wrong or yn really just doesn’t care anymore 😭

maxverstappen1: hell of a drive from you, great to see you back where you belong!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

ynusername posted two private stories

replies

georgerussell63: thanks for reminding everyone I got a penalty yn 😂😂

oscarpiastri: make sure you’re resting, you don’t need to worry about the race sweetheart!!

ynusername: I’ve never missed a race of yours 😩

danielricciardo: why tf are you in hospital and why didn’t you tell me immediately so that I could help!!

nicolepiastri: sending you lots of love sweetheart, sorry we can’t be there to help you 💕

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

oscarpiastri: I promise to sneak you in loads of snacks as soon as I’m there 💞

lilymhe: I miss you so much, hope you’re recovering well girlie

landonorris: he’s on the first flight outta here straight back to you 🧡

carmenmmundt: sending you all the healing vibes in the world ❤️

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by charles_leclerc, logansargeant and 812,948 others

oscarpiastri: wish me luck on the flight, some weird passenger keeps looking over their shoulder at me 👀

36,950 comments

username7: that poor pilot having to drive these two home lmao

danielricciardo: now you get to experience my struggle before you came along 😭

oscarpiastri: @/danielricciardo idk how you ever did it 🤦🏻

username8: at least oscar has lando to celebrate with even though others have abandoned him

alex_albon: why else do you think we offered to take you home on our plane instead?! 😂

username9: i wonder if he's going home to yn being there or not

charles_leclerc: you're incredibly brave volunteering to travel home with him 👏🏻

username10: yn should be there with him, i really hope that they're okay

username11: what would we do without these two in our lives!?

maxverstappen1: we tried to talk you out of it but you didn't listen 🤷🏻

username 12: i love how all the boys are exposing lando as a terrible travel partner hahah

landonorris: stop trying to make it sound like we're not bffs osc 💔

oscarpiastri: @/landonorris that's because we're definitely not best friends

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, alex_albon and 793,722 others

oscarpiastri: seeing as some people want to make it their business, we thought we’d share why yn hasn’t been around recently. a couple of weeks ago she had a nasty fall at home which resulted in a broken leg. yesterday I finally got to bring her home and begin helping her with recovery…just call me doctor piastri from now on 🧑🏻‍⚕️💞

57,492 comments

username13: i hope all you losers who thought they broke up are proud of yourselves 🙄

landonorris: you guys know where i am if you need anything!!

georgerussel63: we love you yn, make sure you get plenty of rest ❤️❤️❤️

username14: sending you so much love yn, get plenty of rest

ynusername: apologies in advance for the lack of sleep you're about to get because of me 😂

oscarpiastri: @/ynusername as long as you're healing idc 🥹

username15: can't believe some of you were so stupid to ever think they'd actually break up

alex_albon: glad to see you're back at home where you belong yn

danielricciardo: do i even want to ask how she managed to break her leg??

oscarpiastri: @/danielricciardo if I told you I don't think you'd believe me 😂

username16: poor oscar looks exhausted having to drive and take care of yn too

charles_leclerc: pls tell me I get to sign the cast ✍️

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc i'll save a spot just for you

username17: please make sure you take care of yourself yn and ignore what everyone has to say

carmenmmundt: sending you so many healing vibes yn, we miss you at the paddock

username18: during a time when they need privacy and instead they've been hounded by nosey idiots 🤦🏻

maxverstappen1: can't wait to see all the doctor piastri content from you! 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by georgerussell63, carlossainz55 and 682,058 others

oscarpiastri: the only way to get her out of the house atm is to bribe her with coffee ☕️

63,957 comments

username19: it's adorable how much oscar cares about her 🥰

lilymhe: tell her im omw with coffee as we speak to get her out again!

username20: it's so good to see yn back up on her feet and moving around again 🤩

alex_albon: i actually forgot what yn looked like stood upright for a moment

username21: why does it feel like oscar is one of those partners who is constantly checking on her making sure she's doing her exercises and following every single bit of advice

maxverstappen1: yn's injury is really making you look like the doting boyfriend rn ❤️

danielricciardo: if yn ever gets bored of being entertained on a walk by you, you know where i am!

username22: i bet yn can't wait for race weekend again to get rid of the nagging doctor 😂

landonorris: wish you looked after me as well as you look after yn

oscarpiastri: @/landonorris just a shame that we're not dating then really huh?!

username23: anyone else noticed how many drivers have been round this week to take yn out and make sure she's staying active too

username24: @/username23 i think she might just be the most popular wag on the grid

ynusername: i hate you but i love you at the same time these days 💞

oscarpiastri: @/ynusername if the doctor says you keep moving, it's my job to make you move 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, carmenmmundt and 59,491 others

ynusername: I always knew oscar was secretly boyfriend coded but damn having him look after me is making me fancy him all over again 🔥

12,056 comments

username25: i think i might've just fallen in love with him all over again too 😍

alexandrasaintmleux: make the most of all of the attention you're getting girl

ynusername: @/alexandrasaintmleux oh I am, he doesn't let me lift a finger 😘

username26: soft, doctor boyfriend oscar might just be my new favourite thing

charles_leclerc: if i see many more of these posts from you i might just need a sick bucket 🤮

username27: yn you really are the luckiest having this guy in your life

carlossainz55: i always knew he was a softie deep down 🥺

oscarpiastri: you know i'd do anything as long as it meant getting you better again

ynusername: @/oscarpiastri you're an angel in disguise i swear

username28: i'd break my leg too if it meant oscar piastri was there to look after me 😂

username29: it melts my heart to see how caring oscar has been over the past few weeks

danielricciardo: even i found myself getting a bit excited when i saw these photos yn

username30: everyone needs an oscar piastri in their life

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

ynusername posted two stories

replies

landonorris: you're ruining oscar's image with every post you share these days 😂

oscarpiastri: there's nowhere else that I'd rather be

ynusername: we'll pretend you didn't complain that it wasn't race weekend first thing this morning shall we???

carmenmmundt: hope it's good news, lemme know how you get on!!

alex_albon: praying for you and hoping that it's the beginning of the end now 💕

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

danielricciardo: thinking of you guys, tell the doctor if he doesn't give you good news i'll break his leg 💞

ynusername: something tells me you might find a few challenges in doing that hahah

georgerussell63: you're so strong yn, just remember we love you

charles_leclerc: the whole family is hoping for good news for you and oscar ❤️

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 70,238 others

ynusername: the moment i've waited for for so long, back in my second home of the garage and back supporting my love during race weekend

14,592 comments

username31: make sure you keep taking care of yourself yn!! 💕

oscarpiastri: cannot begin to tell you how happy i am to have you back with me again ☺️

ynusername: @/oscarpiastri the best feeling in the world being able to cheer you on again

danielricciardo: ik just how much this means to you, welcome back to us yn

username32: it's so good to see you right back where you belong again

username33: it feels like you've never been away, I'm so happy for you guys 🥹

charles_leclerc: on the mend at last, i hope you know just how many people can't wait to welcome you back this weekend

username34: we love our favourite #81 fan 🧡

iamrebeccad: i am hurrying over to that mclaren garage as fast as i possibly can rn ‼️

username35: so happy to see you back on your feet and back with our favourite duo again

username36: this is the content we've been waiting for, it's so good to see you back

landonorris: as much as i hate having to share oscar again, it's a joy to have you back 🙃

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[yoongjoong]

.. hmm

[pucksandpower]

Bleached

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: Charles’ beard has been looking a bit ginger-ish lately … what better place to talk about it than on a podcast?

Warnings: allusion to 18+ themes

“Okay, I have to ask,” the podcaster leans forward, elbows resting on the small round table between them, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. His voice is friendly, but there’s that unmistakable gleam in his eye that says he’s about to drop something that’ll make the interview go viral. “There’s been some ... speculation. About your, uh, change in appearance recently.”

Charles shifts in his seat, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. He’s relaxed, casual in a gray hoodie and jeans, but there’s a slight tension in the way he holds himself, like he’s been waiting for this question to come up. “Speculation? About what?” His tone is playful, teasing almost, though he knows exactly where this is going.

The podcaster chuckles, scratching his beard as he gathers the right words. “Well, I mean … the ginger beard thing. I’ve had a lot of listeners ask about it. A lot of comments, too. They’re all curious. You know, Charles, your beard’s been, uh, dark for as long as we’ve known you, and now …” he gestures towards Charles’ face, where the once dark brown stubble has turned into a mix of auburn and light copper. It’s subtle, but definitely noticeable. “What’s going on there?”

Charles laughs, but there’s a hint of sheepishness in it. He rubs his jaw, as if the act itself will somehow explain the change. “Ah, well,” he begins, and his eyes flicker to the side, as if contemplating whether he should actually say what he’s about to. “It’s kind of funny, actually.”

“Oh, I’m all ears,” the podcaster says, leaning in even more, his grin widening. “I love a good story.”

Charles glances down for a moment, his fingers tracing the outline of the cup of coffee in front of him, before looking back up. “Okay, so … how do I say this?” He pauses, clearly trying to find the right words, and then he laughs again, softer this time, like he’s laughing at himself. “It’s actually because of Y/N.”

The podcaster raises an eyebrow, leaning back slightly in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Charles nods, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “It’s … her. I mean, not directly, obviously, but … you know, her ... uh, how do I say this without it sounding ... weird?”

“Hey, man, this is a safe space. You can say whatever you want,” the podcaster says, trying to suppress his amusement. “You’ve got my full attention.”

Charles laughs again, a bit more openly this time. “Okay, well, let’s just say it’s ... the result of certain ... activities between us.” He’s clearly embarrassed but trying to make light of it. “You know, when you, uh, go down on someone, and … yeah.”

The podcaster’s eyes widen in realization, and he bursts out laughing, almost doubling over in his chair. “Wait, wait, wait,” he says between gasps for breath. “You’re telling me … your beard is turning ginger because of … her?”

Charles laughs too, but there’s a hint of a blush on his cheeks. “Yeah, I know, it sounds ridiculous. But, uh, yeah. Apparently, her ... uh, juices are, um, acidic? And they’ve been ... bleaching my beard a bit.”

The podcaster is in stitches, shaking his head in disbelief. “Oh my God, that’s ... I don’t even know what to say. That’s amazing.”

“It’s funny, right?” Charles says, his grin widening as he watches the podcaster struggle to contain his laughter. “I didn’t even notice at first, but then it started getting more obvious, and she was like, ‘Uh, Charles, what’s going on with your beard?’”

The podcaster wipes tears from his eyes, still chuckling. “And what did you say? I mean, how do you even have that conversation?”

Charles shrugs, still smiling. “Well, we just laughed about it. I mean, what else can you do? It’s not like it’s a bad thing. It’s just ... one of those weird, funny things that happens when you’re in a relationship.”

“So, she wasn’t freaked out or anything?”

“No, no, she wasn’t freaked out,” Charles says, shaking his head. “She thought it was hilarious. I mean, we both did. It’s just ... it’s one of those things that makes us, you know, us.”

“Man, that’s ... that’s awesome,” the podcaster says, finally calming down a bit. “You know, I’ve heard of some wild stories on this show, but that ... that’s definitely up there.”

“Yeah, it’s not something you hear about every day,” Charles admits with a laugh.

The podcaster leans in again, his expression still one of amusement but with a hint of curiosity now. “Okay, but seriously ... have you looked into this? Like, the science behind it? I mean, can that really happen?”

Charles nods, his expression turning a bit more serious now. “Yeah, I did actually. It turns out that it’s possible. I mean, the pH of ... you know, down there ... can be slightly acidic, and that can have an effect on hair color, especially if there’s prolonged contact. I’m no scientist, but that’s the gist of it from what I’ve read.”

“Wow,” the podcaster says, clearly impressed. “That’s ... honestly, I didn’t even know that could happen.”

“Yeah, neither did I,” Charles says, grinning. “But here we are.”

The podcaster laughs again, shaking his head in disbelief. “Man, I’ve got to say ... Y/N is one lucky girl. And you ... you must be very enthusiastic about, uh, certain activities.”

Charles laughs, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Well, I mean, when you’re with someone you care about ... you want to make them happy, right?”

“Of course, of course,” the podcaster says, nodding in agreement. “But still ... that’s some dedication, man.”

“Hey, if it makes her happy, I’m happy,” Charles says with a shrug, but there’s a genuine warmth in his voice that makes it clear he means it.

The podcaster smiles, clearly touched by the sentiment. “That’s sweet, Charles. Really sweet. I think a lot of people are going to appreciate hearing that.”

“Yeah, well, I hope so,” Charles says, his smile softening. “I mean, relationships are about give and take, right? You have to be willing to do things for each other, even if it’s something small. It’s those little things that make it special.”

The podcaster nods, his expression turning a bit more serious now as he listens to Charles. “You’re right about that. It’s the little things that count.”

“Exactly,” Charles agrees. “And, you know, if that means I have to deal with a bit of a color change in my beard, well, that’s a small price to pay.”

“Definitely,” the podcaster says with a smile. “So, what’s next for you guys? Any big plans?”

Charles leans back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Honestly, we’re just taking things one day at a time. We’re happy, and that’s what matters. We’re both busy with our careers, but we make time for each other, and that’s important. We’re just ... enjoying being together.”

“That’s great to hear,” the podcaster says, nodding approvingly. “It sounds like you’ve got a good thing going.”

“We do,” Charles says with a smile. “She’s amazing, and I’m lucky to have her.”

The podcaster smiles, clearly touched by the sincerity in Charles’ voice. “Well, I wish you both the best. You seem like a great couple.”

“Thank you,” Charles says, his smile widening. “That means a lot.”

The podcaster grins, clearly pleased with how the interview has gone. “And, uh, just to wrap things up ... any advice for other guys out there? You know, in case they start noticing their beards changing color?”

Charles laughs, shaking his head. “I’d say ... just go with it. Embrace it. It’s a sign that you’re doing something right.”

“Great advice,” the podcaster says with a chuckle. “Well, thanks for sharing that with us, Charles. This has definitely been one of the more ... interesting interviews I’ve done.”

“Happy to be of service,” Charles says with a grin. “Thanks for having me.”

The podcaster smiles, clearly satisfied with the conversation. “Anytime, man. Anytime.”

[fanby-fckry]

In light of recent events, I gotta say it:

Stop abbreviating Hazbin Hotel as HH

I’ve been trying to make this post for about a year, always struggling to find the right words and having the results get lost in my drafts, but with fascism and antisemitism running rampant, I’m posting this no matter how imperfect.

“HH” is a nazi dog whistle, and has been for way longer than Hazbin has existed. It will always call to mind “heil hitler” before any fandom meaning.

Please, just say “hazbin” if you want to shorten it. Or use “hazho” or “haho” if you wanna shave off a few more letters.

This needs to stop. I’m going to start blocking over this.

[xetlynn]

Can I ask for claggor x a piltover reader? She was raised in piltover and is very smart but was never ignorant to the condition of zaun and always tried her best to advocate and help the suffering people. I can imagine she would have a strong sense of guilt for loving claggor because she doesn't really understand the struggles he went through but will always try to help. <33 thank youuuu

Of course, I think I made this a little more dramatic than I meant to😭 but I hope this is good!

Arcane Imagines- Claggor

Mysterious

[arcane] [main page]

Prompt: In which reader is from Piltover and makes a friend in Zaun. Feeling guilty for liking him since she doesn't understand his struggles.

My feet achingly moved seemingly before me. My back hurt as I carried a box full of stuff from Piltover to give to a friend in the undercity.

When I was younger I was so fascinated by the people of Zaun. About the difficulties they’ve been through. My mother was always bitter about them. Going on tangents about how the people from the undercity should be more grateful since everything is better now. And whenever she does that I have to remind her of their struggles to get to this wonderful position they’ve been creating for themselves. Supporting them only pisses her off further than before. She asks what about Piltover’s struggles which is never the point of my argument. 

We’re privileged enough to never know what it’s like going without food, running water and a roof being over our heads. Most of Zaun could or still to this day can not say the same. It’s something I’ve written about in school essays, joining groups to learn more about the undercity. 

As a younger teen I snuck into Zaun, wanting to understand them better, know them rather than read about their history. Hear it from the people themselves. I won’t truly ever know their struggles but I still wish to help them. Advocate for their history and their growth as a community. Help them be one with Piltover eventually without there being discourse of if they deserve it. 

Everyone deserves happiness, love, and a life without ridiculous danger. They deserve peace as much as the next person.

I was reckless when going to Zaun. Sneaking out of my house as a teen and somehow to the undercity without being caught will forever blow my mind. The reason I kept doing it though was after I sat down in this bar. It’s called The Last Drop. I just needed a place to rest after walking for miles. 

Talking with the people there. Not really a scene a young teenager should be in but I didn’t care. I just wanted to listen to their stories. And they always enjoyed having me around. Seeing me as a niece of some sort.  Hearing the first one made me want to hear more. Hence why I kept coming back. And more recently there's a new reason.

I met a new friend. His name I still don’t know. He never properly introduced himself to me. Not by his birth given name but by the first letter. He wanted me to guess. 

It’s been 3 months and he has yet to tell me what it is. Or in his words I didn't guess good enough.

I guess his father was the owner, Vander is his name. I’ve met him a few times but I never sat up at the actual bar. Just in a corner keeping to myself before I went to adventure out into Zaun after hearing random stories.

When I met C he had started working more hours at the bar to help out since it was getting busier and busier after some time with people from the Uppercity decided the place was a hit. I guess he worked earlier shifts so that’s why we never crossed paths when I first started going there. 

C and I hit it off slowly in the beginning.  

It was a rough start since we both had different upcomings. I didn’t know what it was like to have to get my hands dirty and work for things I want or need. I’ve always just… had it. 

Talking about C’s childhood and things he went through as I had nothing bad to say except for the fact that my mother is a witch of a woman. It made me realize how weird I am for being so interested in others' lives. It made me realize I don’t have a life of my own. I want to fix people who don’t need to be fixed. They’re perfect the way they are, no matter what they went through. They don’t need me to stick up for them. I also figured out that I’m falling for a friend, who again… I don’t know the name of and we will never share a similar story. He deserves someone who understands the same livelihood he knows. Someone who can appreciate things more than I ever could.

“[Name]!” A voice shouts, shaking me from my thoughts. “C!” I grin, shimmying the box in my hands. “Is this everything?” He takes it from me with furrowed eyebrows, looking it over. “Mhm, every single thing you asked for.” I place my hands on the back of my hips, stretching to crack my back. Letting out a small sigh of relief afterwards. 

“You alright?” He asks with a chuckle, leading me into his apartment that he and his brother share. “Yeah, I definitely got my exercise in for the day.” I half-heartedly joke, shutting the door behind us and he places the box down on the counter. “What is the food for, exactly?”

When he first requested the stuff from me, he told me it was for an experiment. Not really saying much after that. A few foods and then things you can really only get in Topside. 

“To eat.” He grabs an apple and bites into it. My shoulders fall, not expecting that answer. For some reason I thought it was going to be something cooler. “Oh.” I let out a breathy laugh. “I was hungry when I was putting in that request.” He rubs his stomach sadly. 

I shake my head with a smile. “It’s okay. So can I know what this project is now?” I hop up on the barstool in his kitchen. “It’s a secret.” He says briefly, putting the food away in his counters. I frown. “Dang, keeping another thing from me, C?” I tilt my head. 

“Gotta keep you on your toes, by being a mysterious, interesting man. Don’t want you getting sick of me.” He quipped, now giving me his full attention after placing the box on the ground. I glanced down at it then back to him. “I’ll always find you interesting. Maybe even more if you just tell me your name.” I pout.

Have I mentioned that I don’t know his name? No? Yeah, don’t know it. 

“Soon.” He reaches over and messes up my hair. I smack his hand away. Attempting to fix what he did. “I hope so.” I cross my arms. 

“I wish you could guess it. You didn’t even try hard enough.” He exclaims, my jaw drops at his words. “I can’t think of anything else! It has to be some sort of crazy unique name!” I utter, throwing my hands in the air. He lets out a belly laugh, “It’s not super unique.” He shrugs his shoulders. 

“Whatever.” I roll my eyes, jokingly annoyed. “I told you my name.” I murmur. “That’s because you’re not mysterious like me.” He purses out his lips, doing a little peace sign. “I know almost everything else about you. You are not mysterious.” I point a finger at his chest. “Really? What’s my favorite color?” 

“You tell people it’s blue but it’s actually yellow. Like dandelion yellow.” I raise my brows, making a face that expresses that he should try me. “Okay, pssh, lucky guess. Favorite food?” 

“Halibut, but only when it’s fried because you’re weird.” I tease, his eyes seem to widen at my words. “See, not so mysterious, huh?” I cross my arms. “Two things. That’s all you answered.” He walks away over to the living room. Plopping down on the couch. I stand up, rushing over to him. Bouncing on the cushion beside him. My hands holding his shoulder as I shake him. “Then ask more questions. I have the answers~” I sang out, leaning back. 

“Fine, how old am I?” He raises a brow. I put a finger on my chin, pretending like I was thinking. “21.” I simply say. “Okay, I never told you that. How’d you get that?” He scrunches his nose in confusement. I laugh. “Honestly I truly guessed that time. I’m 21 and I always figured we were the same age.” I snicker. 

“Wow, okay. Next question, how many siblings do I have?” I think back to conversations we’ve had or the time I bumped into his brother Mylo. He always talks about a girl named Powder. I want to say there’s one more though. I just can’t remember…

“... three?” I estimate. “Or two.” I perk up my posture. “Hm, it’s three. You really do listen.” He hums out. “Yeah, it’s Mylo, Powder and I’m sorry but I don’t think I ever got the last one’s name.” I press my lips together, trying to rack it in my head. “Violet. She passed away when we were younger.” He sighs, I look at him through my eyelashes not wanting to make full eye contact as my heart drops.. 

“I’m sorry.” I whisper. “It’s alright, [Name]. You didn’t know.” He gives me a smile. It goes silent between the both of us. “Um… can I ask how? If not I totally understand. I don’t want to push that topic.” I shake my hands at the thought of forcing him to say something he wasn’t comfortable with.

“We were doing a stupid thing in Piltover. Sneaking into someone’s house. Just trying to get a few things for our dad. Extra money in his pocket. Something exploded. The impact unfortunately killed Vi.” He seems spaced out as he tells the story. I reach out and grab his hand.

I remember when that incident happened. It was all anyone talked about for a while. An undercity child passes away in an explosion after breaking into a scientist’s home. My mom… was an ass about the situation. 

“Any more questions?” I make an effort to switch the conversation so he doesn’t get upset due to my questioning of his sister's death like the dumb idiot that I am.

He looks down at my hand that was on top of his. “Claggor.” He suddenly says. I scrunch my eyebrows together. “Claggor?” I question, was that something I had to answer? “My name.” He mutters out. 

My mouth goes into the shape of an 'o.' Claggor... An interesting name for an interesting man like him.

“Hm… cute. It fits you.” I squeeze his hand before letting go. I didn’t even notice the dusty rose color across his cheeks. He mutters out a small thanks before we continue the conversation of me knowing certain things about him.

The entire time I think back to his sister, my chest aching. They were only kids trying to help their father. Not knowing that one of them wasn’t going to make it back home. How devastating. 

“You okay, [Name]?” He sits up, turning his body to face me. I fake a smile, waving him off. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Just thinking. Sorry.” How am I supposed to be his friend if I carry guilt that has nothing to do with me? How can I like him and not be able to understand him? It’s idiotic looking. It makes me look selfish, turning other people's problems into my own. “Thinking about?” 

“Your name. How I never guessed it.” I force out a chuckle that sounds like a high pitched animal making me wince in embarrassment afterwards. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks me again. 

“I’m fine, Claggor.” His name rolls off my tongue easily. Like it was meant to be said from my lips.

“I remembered I have somewhere I need to be. My mom will kill me if I’m late. See you later?” I ask him, blinking tears away as I abruptly get up. “Um, yeah. Tomorrow?” He gets up with me, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ah, I can’t. Family thing.” I lied. “Oh, maybe the next night? Mylo wants me to go to this party where his crush is djing. I do not want to go.” He laughs, walking me to his front door. My stomach flips, not knowing how to respond. “Maybe, I’ll let you know the day of.” I swallow down the lump in my throat. “Okay, okay. I don’t mean to cling. I just like spending time with you.” He smiles softly. I avoid eye contact. “Me too, Claggor.” I whisper before pulling him into an embrace. 

He lets out a small yelp of surprise before his hands slowly snake around my waist. “You’re a good friend, [Name].” He mumbles into my shoulder. Tears begin to threaten my eyes once again. “You’re a better one.” I pat his back before letting go. “See you.” I curtly wave before leaving. 

Man, I’m an idiot. 

It’s the day of the party, I haven’t left my bed since I came home after leaving Claggor’s house. My head racing with a million thoughts about how selfish and ridiculous I am. Cringing at all the conversations I’ve had with my friends about the Undercity. How incredibly obnoxious it always sounded. 

How strange I look just being this upset about everything. I wonder if Claggor thought the same about me. How strange it was that a girl was so wrapped up into his struggles. I would never want to tell him that either because I’m overthinking. I know I am. 

He’s my friend. He would tell me if I was being over the top.

Right? 

Right.

Stop it brain. 

A knock at my door echoes in my room. “Yes?” I call out, not bothering to get up. The door creaks open. “[Name] there’s someone here to see you.” A house worker tells me. I sit up, tilting my head confused on who would be here. “Um, tell them I’ll be right down.” I say, climbing out of bed. “Yes, ma’am.”

I grab my robe from my vanity, throwing it on over my pajamas. I slip my feet into my house slippers. I look like a mess but I don't care. It’s probably just a school mate to ask about some homework we have. 

I exit my room, heading down the stairs. I see Claggor and my body freezes in place. Staring down at him. Shit. I look like a mess! And that is not a school mate. 

He was looking around my home before his eyes locked with mine. His face erupts into a smile. “Just wake up or something?” He teases and my face flushes in response. “Uh- yeah, slept in.” I awkwardly chuckle, walking towards him. “How’d you know my address?” I asked him. “Also, why are you here?” 

“Well, first I bumped into one of your friends I met before. She told me you lived here. Second ouch, I can just leave if you want me to.” He points to the front door and I roll my eyes. “Sorry, sorry. I was just wondering, I was gonna come to you.” I cross my arms, and when I do his eyes flicker down to what I’m wearing.

Suddenly I’m extremely aware of how I look. My hair a mess, face puffy, and wearing a fancy robe with slippers. Weird combination. 

“I felt like when you left yesterday it was a bit… off? You seemed like you were about to cry so I thought I’d come here and maybe talk to you about that.” He fidgets with his hands, I observe his demeanor. He seemed extremely anxious. “Oh, I told you I was fine. Might’ve had something in my eye.” I shrug lying straight out of my teeth. 

“You know how I said you are not mysterious like me?” He asks. “Vaguely.” I smile but not understanding why he’s saying that. “It’s because you aren’t a mystery at all. Maybe I’m not either since you seem to know quite a bit about me. Anyways, not the point.” He lets out a heavy breath. “You don’t hide your emotions well. You’re an open book just by looking at you.” He chuckles and I tense up, feeling a little offended. He notices and sighs.

“What I mean is, when I first met you I knew you were a very empathetic person. Your emotions are what drives you to be who you are. I really enjoy that about you. I never thought someone could cry over a bug they killed until I met you.” He laughs at the memory of when we were hanging out one day at the bar and a bug was on the floor by my foot. I stomped on it and immediately felt bad. Thinking about the fact that it could’ve had a family. 

“You care so deeply for people you’ve never met. Wanting them to succeed even if it means you are risking your own happiness to do so.” He says softer than all his other words. “I hope you know that you have never upset me by asking your questions.” His eyes find mine and I open my mouth to say something but nothing comes out. He read me like a book. He practically studied me. I don’t even know how to respond. 

“I know that’s why you got upset. My sister passing away. I don’t mind that you asked. It happened as unfortunate as it is. You didn’t know and you wanted to. Because you care.” He places a hand on my shoulder. I look down at his arm then back to his face. “Please don’t feel bad for caring.” 

My eyes begin to water and I pull him into a hug. “I don’t deserve your friendship.” I mumble into his chest. “I think you do.” He disagrees. 

“I like you, Claggor.” I told him. “Like a lot. I care for you more than anyone else I’ve ever met. I’m scared that I can’t be what you need. I want to be. Everything and more.” I confess, pulling away from him. “Did you know that? Was I not hiding that emotion well either?” I try to uplift the mood. 

“I didn’t have a clue actually.” He grins. “I like you as well. Like a lot. You are everything I need and more. I promise you that.” He pulls me back into his arms, looking down at me as I look up at him. 

He closes the distance between us, his lips landing on mine. It was a short, soft kiss but it was something I never felt before. Shivers sent down my spine. I flutter my eyelids open, both of us smiling ear to ear like giddy little kids. Taking in the moment for a few seconds.

“Does that mean you’re going to join me at this party that I’m soooo excited about?” He sarcastically asks and I giggle in response. “I guess so. I definitely need to clean myself up first though.” I motion to my hot mess of a state that I’m in. “I think you look beautiful in this. Don’t even need to worry about changing.” He jokes and I lightly hit his arm. 

“What a liar.” I fold my arms. “Hm, maybe a little. Want me to come back to pick you up?” 

“You could hang out in my room while I get ready. Maybe choose my outfit?” I propose and his eyes light up. “Yeah, let’s go.” He happily responds. 

[greeniegaes]

Thinking about Omega SQQ again sigh

Okay. So warning this is a male lactation AU so if you don’t like that don’t read, nothing explicit happens tho, just a guy and his pups

I imagine when he first goes into his body everything feels like he’s in haywire, constantly on edge and ready for a fight. Once he’s gotten the hang of things he uses his cultivation to try and simmer down his hormones.

Only to realize it was his cultivation preventing hormones that was making him feel like shit all the time.

So eventually he sighs and stops doing that. The first few days are bad, cramps and sickness and a general feeling of wanting to claw everyone’s eyes out. He gets through that though.

Then his breasts start to come in.

He knew PIDW has its weirder parts of omegaverse so he knew that this would happen. At first he starts binding his chest but that hurts SO SO SO much that he collapses on like the third day (he was also doing it improperly because it’s him, yk) and gets stuffed into Qian Cao

MQF: I was not aware shixiong was an omega

SQQ: I’ve only recently decided to stop holding myself back

MQF: it is recommended that you form a small pack of your disciples to help with your instincts and… that *waving at SQQs chest.*

SQQ: *screams internally.* Okay :)

At this point after like a week of just draining himself and going insane he finally gives up. LBH has already started living in the bamboo hut so he’s kinda the best option so he sits the boy down.

SQQ: Binghe, I hope you know this isn’t going to change anything but

LBH, thinking: oh my god no please don’t kick me out

SQQ: since this master has allowed his omega side back out he’s been struggling with his urges about thinking of his disciples like pups. If it’s not an offense to your character can I take some of it out on you

LBH, internally: YES YES YES PLEASE OH GOD YES I NEED IT

LBH, externally: If that would please shizun then sure :]

So they start a twice daily thing of in the morning and night LBH goes into SQQs room and his nest and gets feed. Apparently milk is hella good for the skin and shit because after a few weeks he starts to look flawless somehow.

And SQQ really wants to see his other kids- DISCIPLES flourish like that. He extends the offer to a close few and some look like they going to cry at the honor of their teacher wanting to take care of them.

LBH is still the main drinker and always wants to huff when he has to share, but he does it none the less. His Shizun gets really cute during feeding sessions, purring and chirping at them, fixing their hair and playing with it, scratching their scalp, the whole nine yards.

So LBH repays it by feeding SQQ more, which also makes him have more milk in turn. He huffs and complains at his body’s need to produce so much, his chest wayyy too heavy in the middle of the day to be comfortable, leaking and wasting everything.

He ignored that though, even if LBH and his other pups- disciples offer to help him.

Eventually after the Abyss his body is still making big amounts of milk because that’s what it was used to. Most of the time he just gets it out himself and pours it into the grass, often now also starting his other feedings.

Everything starts to get to him and he’s decided that staying on the mountain is no good. So he sneaks out, by himself, in search of something to heal his heart.

All the peak lords and disciples are going crazy, nobody can find him and nobody knows where he could’ve gone. Eventually while LQG is talking to a random villager out in a border town of their territory he sees SQQ again, arms filled with two pudgy babies and looking ever so pleased.

SQQ: Oh! Hi Shidi

SQQ internally: OH FUCK I FORGOT ABOUT THE SECT

LQG: where have you been???

SQQ: sorry sorry babies are hard work I didn’t want to travel alone with them

LQG, wanting to have an aneurysm but can’t: let me just help you home

On one hand the entire sect is so relieved that SQQ didn’t die of heartbreak over losing his favorite pup or get kidnapped. On the other hand SQQ??? Where’d you’d acquire those babies?? They aren’t yours, it’s only been 6 months!!

Anyways after SQQ is safely back in the sect he doesn’t see a point in leaving. I mean! Look! Look at his pups! So cute and round! One of them has little dimples!

The other peak lords carefully go to see what was going on, YQY opening the door to the bamboo house after being told to come in and all of them are just smacked with happy omega pheromones, SQQ gently cradling them both in his arms as he rocks in a chair.

At that point all of the peak lords decide that yk, maybe it doesn’t matter how the children were acquired. They were well feed and cared for and obviously SQQ was happy again.

(He got the children from a working in the WRP, she had wanted babies and all her sisters were supportive but then she realized she didn’t like being a parent but you also can’t morally just… dispose of a child. SQQ visited there once in his depression stoop and stayed for a few days after falling in love with the kiddos. Then he just went on an adventure with his babies and got distracted by the cool world building.)

[crescenthistory]

heyy, i’ve never done this before so sorry if i’m doing it wrong. can i request a barty crouch jr x fem! reader where the reader’s mom said something really mean to her and the reader’s hands start shaking cause she’s nervous and there’s no way to really stop it and then like barty comforting her or trying to make it stop. sorry ik it’s like a lot 😭 but thank you :)

hi my lovely nonnie<33 you're not doing it wrong at all, this was perfect! i am sending you the biggest hug 🫂

wc: 1.6k

cw: fem!reader, anxiety attack/averted panic attack, fluffy hurt/comfort, implied abusive mother, established relationship, physical affection, minor pyromaniac!barty

It was a terrible idea to open the letter in the Great Hall.

You knew that, truly you did. Yet somehow you seemed to forget between every letter just how awful they would always be, somehow assuming, hoping that this one would not be as bad as the last.

It wasn’t as bad as the last – no, your mother’s most recent letter to you, sealed in a scarlet red that burned through your retinas, far outdid the others. The letter itself was not even mortifyingly long, it was barely half a page, but each word cut through you as if the edges of the letters were knives sharpened against your heart.

The worst words seemed to be illuminated by neon lights, screaming off the page at a volume that surely the entire table, if not the entire hall, would be able to see. Your pain served on a silver platter beside the dinner feast you had been bestowed this Saturday evening.

You should be prepared for this by now, you told yourself. She should not be able to get to you.

Your best wishes and efforts were neglected, and she still got to you – every time.

You had entirely zoned out of any and all conversation when the owl discreetly dropped your letter off. The light parchment was clutched between your fingers in your lap as you disappeared into a bubble where only two people existed, one of which was not even present; only her words.

All sound and light around you drifted off into the abyss as your mind spiralled backwards through memory after memory, and the further away you seemed to go, the less control you had of your body. Your hands could not, would not let go of the paper, even when they began to shake. It was a terrible tremor, one that threatened to take over your whole body, spreading through your nerves like poison until it would eventually reach your voice and strip you of the ability to talk back to the shadows.

As your elbows began to shake, you had half a panicked mind to think about how you must surely be bumping into the students you were sitting beside, having entirely forgotten who you were sat with today yet being deeply terrified of angering them.

Before you managed to beat yourself up for failing to keep your elbows in, the person to your right suddenly scooted away, pushed out of your periphery. 

In their place, came Barty. He straddled the bench, his whole body facing you. “Hey, hey,” he murmured, so quietly you could barely hear through the inferno inside. You were still trembling while clutching the parchment, eyes burning a hole through it. 

Barty scooted closer to you, body almost flush against yours as he dipped his head down to catch your eye. A couple of his acid green strands fell in his face as he did so, a distracting stimulus. 

In an act that felt heroic despite its mundaneness, he put both of his hands above yours, bringing them back down into your lap. He did not seem to mind at all that the letter got crumpled beneath both of you; he just engulfed your hands with his scratched up ones, squeezing.

“Hey, dragă, look at me, would you? Hm?” His voice was painfully gentle in a way you know almost none others had heard. A gift and a blessing.

You felt rude as you struggled to reward him with his own gift, your eyes glued on where the letter had been, your shoulders beginning to shake as your tremor spread. The heavy weight of his hands helped ground you, if only a little, and you found your body aching to lean sideways into his body.

Slowly, your mind was catching up. Barty had abandoned Evan and Regulus on the opposite side of the table, probably when he felt your foot slide away from where it rested beside his under the table in favour of tucking beneath your seat as panic began to seize you. Now he was here, and you were sure that meant eyes were on you – but at least he was here.

“Don’t mind her,” Barty urged quietly. He squeezed your hands intermittently to help bring you back down into your body. “Don’t mind her one bit love, she has no fucking clue what she’s talking about.”

You’re vaguely aware that he’s not cursing your mother out the way he would on better days, being mindful of your fragility in the moment. The realisation that he knew that this was a reaction brought forth by your mother simply from the state you were in both warmed and pained you.

“It’s alri–” you began, voice unsteady.

Barty kissed your cheek stubbornly, whispering against your skin. “It’s not. Fuck her, and anything she says. But you’re alright, dragă.”

With stuttering movements, you turned your head sideways to look at him. The tears that had been brimming in your lash line were slowly drying out as you could see every golden speck in his green eyes. 

You let go of the letter that you had been clutching in despair. All crumpled up, it tumbled out of your lap to land on the floor beneath the Slytherin table. The tremble of your hands wasn’t eased in the slightest, but now you could turn your palms upwards and intertwine your fingers properly with Barty’s. He wasted no time crushing your hands to his, almost painfully so, a delicious press that helped soothe the stutters away, locking your limbs in place.

You let out a breath. Barty swallowed its remnants on your lips as he leaned in to capture your lips in a fierce kiss, body now flush against your side. He brought your tangled hands up to his chest, making you feel the beat of his heart.

“You’re good, baby,” he murmured, pressing small, sweet kisses around your face. Giving you as much stimuli as possible to tether you from floating away into your own mind. “You’re so good, I’ve got you.”

You closed your eyes, trying to memorialise his touch in your mind and use it to replace each treacherous word tumbling through you. At last, it felt like you could breathe a bit easier. The tremor that had been spreading throughout your body was slowly retreating.

“I shouldn’t have opened it,” you murmured. “I don’t know why I try.”

“Because you are painfully, awfully kind.” Barty pressed your hands harder against his chest, in stark contrast to how softly he kissed your closed eyelids. “I don’t know why you bother, but that’s the magic of you.”

“I don’t know if I want to anymore.” It slipped out past your lips before you could think. Barty retreated to look at you with his head tilted sideways, waiting for your eyes to open and meet his.

When they did, he whispered. “Then don’t. That would be an act of kindness towards yourself.”

As if you had been granted permission, you slumped your body sideways, leaning your weight against his chest. He moved to hold both of your hands with one of his in favour of wrapping an arm around your waist, holding you close to him. The tremor was almost completely gone now, leaving you weary. You were also increasingly feeling like there were a thousand eyes on you and had an instinct to hide – though you could at least hear your friends around you chattering away like normal, giving you space.

“Okay?” Barty asked, lips moving against the shell of your ear.

You nodded. “Yeah. I think so.”

You were about to thank him for being sweet, maybe give him another kiss. Before you could, though, Barty swiftly moved to scoop up the discarded letter with his boot and grabbed it with his free arm around you. 

“Wonderful!” he declared. The next thing you knew, he tossed the letter into the air beside the bench and cast a quick incendio, making the whole thing burst into flames before smouldering to ashes.

Maybe the eyes on you earlier had been imagined, but this time they most surely were not. A small scream sounded from the Hufflepuff table adjacent to yours along with a general gasp from most in the vicinity. Regulus’ eye roll was silent, but you knew in your heart that if you turned your head, you would see it. Barty just cackled at the reactions, his hand already having retreated to hold you close.

“Mr. Crouch!” The unmistakable sound of a frustrated Professor McGonagall sounded from across the Great Hall.

Barty looked downwards at where you were all but trying to hide in his arms. He flashed you a grin, but you could see the lingering concern and love in his eyes. “Ready to dart, my love?”

“I think we have to.” You weren’t even able to sound upset with him.

“Good. I’ve got an owl I want to send and a girl I want to spoil silly.”

Despite your still slightly unstable legs and though you would stop him from sending that owl, your face was finally blessed with a smile as you let Barty drag you out of the Great Hall with his hand in yours.

[lieslab]

Do you feel ashamed when you hear my name?

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Jeongin X gn reader

Summary: Your best friend opens up about his unhealthy relationship with his girlfriend.

Genre: Reverse comfort/hurt

Word Count: 1.8k

Sexual violence resources

Trigger warning: Sexual assault and bullying.

A/N: The next time someone says something cruel about Jeongin, I'll be putting an alligator in their house. Anyway, I combined two different requests together because they both followed a similar outline with only a few differences. I made sure I touched on everything in each request, so both requestees should have what they asked for <3

_ _ _

“Jeongin?” You glanced over, checking on your best friend. “Hello? Earth to Jeongin, are you alive over there?” You leaned across the table and tapped his side of the table. 

A straw stuck in his mouth. Half-distracted, he chewed on it absent-mindedly. The movement of your hand and faint table taps brought him back. He looked up with a frown. “Huh?” 

You stared at his face, wondering if something else tugged his thoughts away from the conversation. He came over, so the two of you could catch up. You went on a walk, bought yourselves coffee at a cafe, and you came back to your place. He’d been quiet ever since. 

It wasn’t like him to avoid your gaze so much. He avoided your gaze and kept getting lost in his thoughts. It wasn’t the usual playful Jeongin you knew. He didn’t tease you yet, not like he usually did. In fact, he hadn’t said much of anything since he arrived. Most of the talking, it came from you and on your end. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Mhm.” 

You studied his eyes again, silently willing him to look at you, but he didn’t. He didn’t look at you. He glanced at the wooden surface of your round table. His fingers moved the straw in his cup and he took another sip of his americano. 

“You know you can talk to me if something is wrong, right?” 

“Yeah, I know.” 

You waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. You tried to ignore it and finish your story, but you struggled. The way his eyes avoided yours, it looked like a shame of some sort. Shame of what? You didn’t know. 

The two of you always got along pretty well. The occasional arguments, you could smooth them over with ease. Whatever it was, this was different. Something silent punctured his heart and you thought he’d bring it up, but he never did. 

After a few more minutes, you called his name again. This time, he’d been listening. He glanced up, briefly meant your eyes, and went back to the table’s worn surface. “Jeongin, what’s going on with you?” You put down your own drink and shifted closer. “You’re worrying me.” 

“I’m not trying to. I’m sorry. I’ve had a lot on my mind recently, that’s all.” 

You believed him to some degree, but the way he spoke, he distanced himself from you. He shut down your conversation before it got started. He didn’t give you anything to work with and as much as you hated it, you couldn’t bring yourself to cross his boundaries, so you changed the subject instead. 

“How’s your girlfriend?” 

The corners of his mouth deepened. His shoulders slumped and he tightened his grip around the cup’s condensation. “She’s okay, I guess.” 

“You guess?” You echoed. 

He shook his head, causing strands of his brunette hair to shake. “I don’t know. We’re together, but…” 

“But something happened between the two of you?” 

“Well, no. I mean yes, but no. Not really. I just…” He trailed off, gripping the back of his neck. “I don’t know. I don’t know what’s going on between us. It’s um…” 

You reached out, placing your hand over his. “You know I’d never judge you for whatever is going on.” You patted the back of his hand, hoping to cause a smile. “You can talk to me, I don’t bite.” 

“I really liked her at first. She’s pretty and she was sweet, but as the days keep rolling by, things have changed between us. She’s a lot more grabby with wandering hands and I understand wanting to be close.” 

Your eyebrow raised. 

He went on. “It’s only been a few weeks and she tries to talk me into moving further along in our relationship than I want to go. You know how I wanted to be a priest, right? I was raised Catholic and everything.” 

You nodded. 

“I just don’t feel like I’m ready for the next steps yet. I don’t know if I want to wait until marriage until we’re more intimate, but it’s barely been a month. It feels so fast and I don’t like that. I’ve tried to explain that, but she keeps grabbing my arms and slipping a hand beneath my shirt.” 

Your eyes widened, but he didn’t notice. Shame brushed along his stomach. His stomach knotted and twisted. Coffee crept up the back of his throat, but he forced himself to swallow it. 

“And maybe it’s my fault for not making my boundaries more known. I keep tugging away and pushing her hand away, hoping she’ll get the hint. It seems like she never does. She gets upset and then she makes these little comments and they make me feel awful.” 

“What kind of comments?” 

“Comments about the rest of my group and me. The rest of the guys, they’re always known for things. Chan is our leader. Minho is known for his dancing and threatening aura. Changbin is silly and playful. It just goes on and on.” 

“What does she say about you?” 

“She doesn’t think I’m special. I’m the youngest, but that doesn’t-” He paused to gesture. “That doesn’t bring much of anything to the table, does it? I’m just the youngest of the group. I’m not romantic like Hyunjin. I’m not poetic with my songwriting like Han. Felix is the sunshine, Seungmin is witty and always teases everyone, and me? I’m just-” 

He blinked rapidly, trying not to tear up. “I’m just me. I’m Jeongin. The youngest. I’m not much of anything according to her. She thinks I should focus on bettering myself, so I can be more admirable.” 

Your blood boiled with anger and then your heart burst. Not only did your best friend admit he was sexually assaulted, but then the added comments. He sniffled and wiped his eyes with his palms. 

“I’m sorry, it’s stupid, really. She’s right, I should be better. I should tell her how I feel and stop avoiding things. She says things and knows how to twist her words, making me feel awful.” 

“You’re allowed to feel awful after being sexually assaulted and insulted, Jeongin.” 

His head shook, “I wouldn’t call it that.” 

“But that’s what it is. If she’s going beneath your shirt without your consent, when you’re clearly uncomfortable. If she’s feeling you up and you’re trying to avoid her touch, that’s an example of sexual assault.” 

His bottom lip trembled. You pushed yourself up from your chair, letting your drink on your side of the table. Glassy eyes met yours and quickly looked away. He stood up as well, trying to spin around, so you wouldn’t see his free falling tears. 

“Come here and please let me hug you. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but you really look like you could use a-” 

He jerked around and nearly caused you to hit the ground. You stumbled back from the force of his arms around you. Your waist came into contact with the table behind you, helping you stay upright. His arms wrapped around your torso tight and yours fell over his shoulders. 

You pulled him closer, letting his head fall beneath your chin. “I can’t believe she thinks you’re not special. You’re you. Yes, you might be the youngest, but you are special. I’ve considered you to be the most playful of the group.” 

“You taunt and tease sometimes. You bring youthful energy and that’s a high compliment. Sure, maybe the guys see you as a younger brother, but that doesn’t mean you’re not grown. As much as Chan keeps them in line, I think sometimes you speak up and keep the guys in line and responsible, too. Plus, in my opinion, you have the best voice.” 

He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, basking in the scent of you. The baby powder scent of his own shampoo tickled your nose. “Do you mean it? Because the way she talks, she makes it sound like I’m not worthy of the group.” 

“If Chan’s the heart, I think you’re the veins pumping all the energy. Giving energy to each organ, making sure the heart continues to beat regularly. I don’t think you give yourself the credit you deserve, Innie.” 

Warm tears soaked your shirt, but you didn’t care. It wasn’t everyday that Jeongin became this vulnerable with you. He wasn’t always so open. This vulnerability, you admired it. 

“I know you didn’t ask for my opinion, but I think you should break up with her. This isn’t healthy for you. You shouldn’t be in my arms being cheered up because her words are making you feel horrible. I don’t say it to be a horrible person, I say it because I love you.” 

“Love shouldn’t make you feel like this. Real love won’t shrink your heart, it’ll make it grow and swell so much, you think it’ll kill you from being so overjoyed. Love is a powerful thing and it has the power to make, or break you. It sounds like she’s lusting over you and not loving you.” 

He pulled away, trying to collect himself. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry for putting all of this on you.” He reached up, trying to wipe his eyes. 

“Don’t be sorry. I love you, you dork. I love your maturity and your radiant youthful glow. Have you seen a photo from when you were seventeen? Because it looks like you haven’t aged. It’s scary.” 

You reached out with two fingers, playfully trying to press them against his pulse. He yelped and whacked your hand away. “Hey! What are you-” 

“Oh, you won’t let me feel your pulse? Do you even have a heart?” You gasped and jerked back. “Oh my god, are you a vampire? Ah!” You squealed and rushed past the table and into the living room. “Don’t bite me!” 

“Why would I be a vampire?” 

“You won’t let me touch your pulse!” 

He started to follow your trail, chasing after you. “That doesn’t mean I-” 

A pillow weakly fell at his feet and you shrieked. “Stay back! Stay back! I’m warning you! May the power of Christ compel you!” Your fingers crossed over one another in a small cross. “Don’t make me get out a bible.” 

“Good grief,” he rolled his eyes. His eyes met yours. You stayed in defense, keeping up your cross. He stared at you for a moment before a grin spread across his face. “I vant to suck your vlood! Mwah-hahahahaha!” 

You screamed louder at the Romanian accent and rushed into your hallway. He called after you with a laugh and hurried after your silhouette. Your heart thudded against your chest. 

Maybe one day, you’d work up the courage to admit the crush you had on him, but right now, you had to outrun an immortal blood-sucking vampire and that was far more important than a silly little crush would ever be.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lia-linny @seungnishi @stellasays45 @emilyywhyy @rockstarkkami @flightlessackerman @inlovewithstraykids @velvetmoonlght @chrizrizz @ari-hwanggg @m-325 @justcallmewhatyoulike

Masterlist

Taglist and inbox rules

Ko-fi

[suni-writings]

Running out of time.

jude bellingham x fem!reader

When two people who didn't know how to love met at the perfect timing to ruin each other.

part 2 | part 3

wc: 2.3k

(content warning: angst, troubled relationships, situationship)

“I can't do this anymore.”

The words escaped her lips before even she could fully process them. It was almost a whisper — a sign of utter defeat, of how much she had struggled and how much she could not take another second of being with him. There was no amount of affection that could mend what the situation had done to her, no amount of luck that could change their fate and, most definitely, no amount of effort he could have shown at that moment that would make her change her mind. It was too late for anything.

If he had listened to her attempts of communication, if he did not dismiss her feelings, if he took her more seriously… A series of ifs that only involved things he could have done.

She had tried to stay with him as long as she could, even if she felt, from the start, that she was doomed from the second her heart beat a little faster at the thought of him. After all, who would hate themselves enough to fall for Jude Bellingham, knowing his reputation, knowing the amount of women he had around on their knees, knowing him?

She thought she knew him, she really did. At least, better than others. They had met at a strange moment in their lives, where a relationship would never fit. That was never what they wanted.

Jude had recently gotten out of a relationship, whereas she was avoiding any sort of relationship for more than a year. Each one had their motivations, and one thing was clear: no relationship was a rule.

So, she didn’t mean to when she realized she was falling for him. In fact, it was nerve-wrecking — constantly beating herself up and trying to smack some sense into her own head; anything that would bring her back to reality. And like that, without knowing her feelings were reciprocated, she created a distance between them, leaving room only for her anxiety.

As her sorrow eyes met his desperate ones, she remembered. Flashes of how they ended up like that flooding into her head without her permission.

“So,” Jude said once. They were at her place — something they used to do quite often. He didn’t like bringing attention to himself and he wasn’t one to take any woman to his place, considering how the press could be if someone saw.

She didn’t know much about Jude. All she knew was that he was a good kisser, a nice company and someone that would provide her aftercare. She couldn’t ask for much more than that.

But one thing she did know — he was confident. Not that she wasn’t, but he was cocky. And, judging by the way he nervously held his thumb, she knew something wasn’t right.

“So?” She asked, tilting her head, looking at him gently.

“I—” he gulped and let out a nervous chuckle. “Look, don’t get me wrong. I know we said it was only a casual thing, but I’ve always been a man that liked, you know, talking to more than one woman.”

She nodded, furrowing her eyebrows, trying to predict what he was going to say. 

“What I want to say is—” he took a deep breath. “I don’t feel like talking to any other woman but you. I haven’t, actually, since this whole arrangement started. I know it’s only been a month, but—”

She laughed and he raised her eyebrows. She held his hand with an affection she hadn’t shown yet.

“Jude, it’s okay. I haven’t been with anyone else or even did as much as looking at anyone else ever since I’ve been with you,” she reassured him.

“Thank God.” He sighed happily, relieved.

The first and only rule was already broken.

“I can’t do this, you know. Can’t have a relationship. It’s not your fault, I just can’t do this sort of commitment at this point of my life.” Jude said while looking at her. She didn’t know where that came from.

They were peacefully taking a walk on a park close to her place. The cold breeze and the way his words somehow felt like a dagger made her shiver and cross her arms, not looking at him.

“I’ve never—” she tried to say. “We were never—”

What could she say? That they were nothing? That wasn’t the truth.

“I’ve never asked a relationship from you. I don’t even— want a relationship. We had talked about that since the beginning,” she said, furrowing her eyebrows. Did she do something that made him think otherwise?

“Let’s be honest with each other for a second.” He said and stopped her, turning her around to look at him  “This whole thing is running out of our control. I can’t do this. There’s no way I can have a serious relationship, one with actual commitment. I need to stop this before it gets to a point that I’ll hurt you.”

She swallowed. Despite her best efforts to hide how that hurt, maybe she was giving it away.

She didn’t want a relationship. They were in the same page.

But she was never the one to insist. Never the one to run after someone. In fact, her entire life, all she did was running away.

That’s all she knew how to do.

So, she just accepted it.

She sighed when she heard the knock on her door, her face twisted with annoyance. For some reason, Jude decided he wanted to see her and asked her to dress up nicely — something he knew she always did, but maybe he just wanted her to create some expectation and, perhaps, not dislike him as much as she was disliking him at that moment.

When she opened the door, he was standing there with a beautiful bouquet of flowers and in a perfect tuxedo. She would’ve sighed, if it wasn’t for the last conversation they had.

“You think you can buy me flowers and what? Problem solved?” She asked, not bothering to hide how much his presence maddened her.

“No. I know you better than that,” Jude said carefully, knowing he had to think well before speaking if he wanted to still be in her life. “But I can still buy you flowers, right? I know you like peonies. And I also like to think that’s a decent way to greet a woman you’d like to take on a date.”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“On a date?” She asked in disbelief. “I thought dates were too couple-ish for you.” She mocked him.

He sighed deeply.

“I was wrong, alright?” He said and run a hand through his hair. “Well, not that wrong. The situation is getting out of hand and we’re breaking every rule we made up, but you’re right, this isn’t like I’m dating you. Still, I’d love to have you on my life and for things to be… the way they were before I fucked up.”

She sighed, crossing her arms.

“My ex showed up that day and I just got nervous; I think.” He looked down. “I had never liked someone this fast, you know? I don’t know how it happened to us. But when she showed up, everything I was afraid of suddenly came back and I just— almost ruined us. Whatever this is.” He looked at her. “But you're not her, and I like you so, so fucking much. Can I, please, have the honor of a second chance?”

“It’s the only one you’re having.” She said as she grabbed the bouquet. “Nice choice of flowers.”

He opened the sweetest, most genuine smile.

“Things are so much easier when I’m with you. I wish it was always like this. That I could take you everywhere,” Jude said.

They were stargazing in her backyard, laying on the soft grass. His head was on her chest as she caressed his hair. They didn’t need to look at each other and he didn’t need to see her eyes to know how she felt — he could hear her heartbeat. It was more than enough.

He was going through a rough patch; she knew that much. And she didn’t know how to fix it, how to help him — it was out of her reach to do such a thing and he would hate if she even tried. His pride always took a tool on him, used to suffering in silence.

“I know.” She sighed softly. “I like being with you, if that helps. You’re my favorite person to talk to.”

“I hope I am,” he chuckled softly. “That’s why we’re sort of together, right?”

“Right,” she nodded. Things seemed so easier and intimate when they were like that. She felt his soft locks against her fingers and sighed once again. “But only sort of together.” She teased him.

“You’re annoying,” he joked.

“Touché.”

“Why are you so mad at me?!” Bellingham exclaimed, trying to run after her as she made her way out of the nightclub. He tried to reach for her arm and called out her name. “Stop, please.”

She stopped. Why was she still agreeing with anything he told her to do, anyway? Even when she couldn’t think straight, even when she was tipsy from all the alcohol she had consumed. Since when he became such a strong influence in her life that she would just submit to what he said? Why didn’t she leave?

Why didn’t she run away?

She was so good at that.

“I just—��� She looked up, trying to find a way to put her words together and make it make sense. “I hate seeing you surrounded by so many women. And it’s so clear how much you enjoy the attention.”

“I don’t—”

“You literally left me standing to go talk to whoever that woman was.”

“You’re exaggerating and you don’t want to listen to me. Why don’t you just breathe for one second?” He asked her. “Look, I might enjoy the attention, but I wouldn’t leave you standing anywhere. I told you, when this whole thing started, that you’d never have to worry about me hitting on someone in front of you.”

And, to her, it felt like they had taken every step back. He didn’t mean for his words to come out like that, really. He knew what she had gone through in her relationships and how much anxiety she could feel from liking someone. He wanted to reassure her and was managing to do the opposite.

“Yeah, the same way we told each other this would be nothing serious,” she scoffed. “And it really seemed like you were flirting with her. How come when it’s with me, I have to chill and take a deep breathe, but when you’re feeling like that, I have to keep explaining myself?”

He opened up his mouth, but no words left. She knew he’d say she was making a fuss over nothing.

“Good night, Bellingham,” she said before leaving the club, not bothering to look back.

That same day, thousands of pictures of him in the club came out. He wasn’t doing anything, but her heart broke a little bit more from how many women surrounded him.

He didn’t bother to explain.

In fact, he had ignored her for two weeks.

That’s how they ended up here.

“You’re joking, right?” Jude asked, though he knew her enough to know if she was bluffing or not. “I just told you all my problems and— that I need a break from us. I need to focus on other aspects of my life, I can’t afford the luxury of having space for anything romantic.”

She laughed dryly.

“And what am I supposed to do, huh? Shove my feelings right up my ass just because you want me to wait for you? Or even worse, be your friend?” She didn’t mean to sound that aggressive, but the two weeks of no contact were more than enough for her anxiety to overcome every good memory they had and replace them with thoughts that he didn’t even really care.

“I’m not asking to be your friend! Jesus, you’re so complicated!” Jude exclaimed.

“I'm not complicated!” She argued back. “I’m just tired of having to put your feelings on top of mine, of prioritizing you instead of myself. I know where this ends and I won’t submit myself to this. Not to this, not to you, not with you.”

“Please,” he sounded desperate. Pathetically desperate. He held her arm. “Don’t do this to me. Wait for me. I will come back, I swear to God.”

“And put my life on hold because you want me to?” She asked, looking up at him, showing how hurt she was by the whole situation.

“What if I’m losing the love of my life over something I cannot control?” He asked her in a whisper, his brown eyes meeting hers.

It was his last attempt, that was for sure. But he forgot just how good she was at walking away. Maybe it was her fault for always finding some excuse for his attitudes or even for forgiving him, in first place. Maybe she should've walked away when she realized she was catching feelings. Maybe she shouldn’t have allowed him a second chance.

A series of maybes that only involved things she could have done.

But one thing was for sure: she wasn’t going to break herself over anyone ever again. Despite how much she liked him, despite the part of her that was willing to wait — she had been through too much to do that to herself again. She didn’t know if it was worth it, not anymore.

“I’m not the love of your life, Jude.” She said and did what she was the best at: walking away.

[lunacelia]

luigi helps you feel pleasure while your sex drive is low. NSFW + TW for references to depression

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The room is silent. You’re lying on your side, tucked beneath a blanket, the faint glow of the bedside lamp painting soft shadows across the walls. Everything feels quiet now; not empty, but still, in the way that sometimes happens after a long day of holding too much inside.

Luigi is behind you, steady and warm, one arm draped loosely around your waist. His presence is familiar and grounding, the kind of closeness that doesn’t ask anything of you but offers everything.

He already knows about your depression. Your recent episode; how the days have felt heavy and flat, how your spark has dimmed. He hasn’t pressed for explanations or solutions. Just stayed near, patient and steady, carrying you around on those days you struggled to leave your bed, making sure you ate even when you didn’t want to, walking with you quietly when talking felt like too much.

But tonight, there’s something else you need to say. Something you’ve been carrying in silence.

You shift slightly under the covers. Luigi’s hand moves with you, his thumb rubbing soft, slow circles over your side. “Everything okay, baby? You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to,” he asks gently, his voice low in your ear.

You hesitate, heart beating just a little faster. You’ve tried to explain it to yourself, to reason it away. But it’s still there — that quiet ache of guilt every time you turn away from him at night, the silent shame that settles in your chest when you pretend you're just tired.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” you murmur. “But I didn’t know how to put it into words. I also didn’t want to… to have to say it out loud.”

He doesn’t move, doesn’t interrupt. Just waits.

“I know you’ve noticed we haven’t been… intimate recently. We haven’t had sex properly in almost two weeks. And I know you haven’t pushed me. But I want to be honest with you.”

You feel his hand pause on your waist.

“I haven’t felt like myself — physically, not just mentally. My sex drive has been pretty much non-existent. And when we tried the other night, I didn’t say anything, but it hurt. I’ve felt so dry and disconnected. And I was embarrassed. I didn’t want to say it out loud.”

You blink, your throat tightening. “I didn’t want you to think I didn’t want you.”

He exhales softly, and resumes the slow circles by his thumb on your hip. “Hey, baby, look at me.”

His other hand comes to your chin, guiding you to turn your head to face him. Then, you turn your body completely so you’re both face to face, and Luigi begins to stroke your cheek as he speaks. “I’m sorry you didn’t feel comfortable telling me earlier. You should never put yourself through pain just for my pleasure, or feel guilty refusing anything. Talk to me, baby.”

You sigh, trying to avoid eye contact, but he gently guides your face again to look at his. “I just kept thinking it would pass. And when it didn’t, I started blaming myself. Like something’s wrong with me. Well, I mean, of course something’s wrong with me, I have depression.”

“Don’t talk about yourself like that,” Luigi says, firmly but tenderly. “You’re right, there is something wrong, you’re going through a tough time right now. But you can get better, beautiful — I promise. How you feel isn’t your fault. Your body’s doing its best to cope with everything. And I don’t want you to ever feel ashamed for needing time.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead. “I miss having sex with you, yeah, of course I do. But we can be close in other ways. I love cuddling with you just like this, I love when I know you’re feeling safe in this space with me. That’s what matters most. I need you to feel safe, baby, so don’t hide anything from me.”

A tear slips down your cheek. “I didn’t want to feel broken in front of you.”

“You’re not broken,” he whispers. “You’re brave. You’ve been showing up every day, even when it’s hard. That’s strength.”

You look at him completely; his eyes are soft, expression open and calm.

“I’m here for you. Always,” he says. “Whether it’s days when you’re ready for sex or days when you just need to rest. If your body craves anything, I’ll listen. If it doesn’t, I’ll still stay right here. I love all of you — not just the parts that feel easy.”

And in that moment, something loosens inside you, not a fix, but a soft shift. True comfort.

You reach for his hand and thread your fingers together, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck to inhale his scent. “Thank you, Lu. I love you so much.”

“Of course,” Luigi says, kissing your knuckles. “You’re the most important thing in the world to me. And we’ll take this one step at a time, okay? As long as you promise to speak to me about everything, the good parts and the bad. I need to know how you’re feeling so I know how to take care of you in the ways you need.”

You sigh in content against him; the silence for the next few minutes is soft, understanding. After a while, you shift away from his neck slowly, looking up into his eyes. His orbs meet yours immediately, warm and hazel and beautiful.

You hesitate. Then, quietly, “I think… I wanna try something. But gentle. Just to see if I might be able to feel something again, even if it’s hardly anything. I was thinking about asking you earlier, but I kept feeling so weird about it.”

Luigi nods slowly, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Okay, baby. We’ll go slow, just something small. You want me to rub your clit?” He kisses your forehead, then your cheek, then the tip of your nose.

“Yeah, I think that would be a good place to start. I’m too dry for, um… penetration. But it’s nothing to do with you, I promise, Lu.”

“Hey, shh,” he coos, with another kiss to your forehead. “I know. Stop it, sweetheart. You don’t have to explain yourself — I understand. All I want you to do is tell me everything you need, yeah?”

“Thank you,” you whisper. “Uh, there’s lube in the drawer.”

Luigi wordlessly reaches over to the bedside table and takes the small bottle. He uncaps it, before rubbing a little amount of the liquid between his fingers. He gently trails his hand down your stomach, giving you time, his other arm cradling your waist.

“It’s okay, baby,” he whispers, as his hand slips into your panties. He doesn’t do anything for a moment, just rests his hand there, a reminder that he’s with you, not trying to fix you instantly.

Slowly, his slick fingers begin to stroke your clit; small, patient circles that are more about comfort than arousal. You let out a slow breath, your eyes fluttering shut. It doesn’t feel electric or overwhelming like it used to so easily, but it feels tender, reassuring.

His voice, the motion of his fingers, the warmth of his body as you’re curled into him — it all begins to stitch something back together. Just slightly, like sunlight warming something frozen.

You shift slightly, feeling your body open just a little, the soreness and discomfort still there, but not sharp. Just part of the landscape. Luigi keeps his rhythm gentle, eyes between you and your sensitivity, asking without words if everything is okay. You nod, reaching to take his hand, holding it while he touches you so tenderly.

“If we start slowly with touches like this… no matter how little or how much it makes you feel, it’s the start of something, at least. We don’t have to rush anything, baby.”

You nod again, and a tear falls. Not from pain or pleasure, but from being seen. From being loved right in the middle of where it hurts.

After a few moments, Luigi pauses the movement of his fingers momentarily, to shift behind you. He settles against the headboard and gently pulls you to sit between his legs. His arms remain around you, keeping you tucked against his chest like you belong nowhere else. The sheets are loose around your waists, the room quiet beside the rhythm of your breathing.

“I thought this position would be better for you. Just rest your back against my chest, I’ve got you,” he whispers, pressing so many soft kisses to your neck as he continues his soft strokes over your clit. “I can feel you tensing a little. How is this feeling, baby? Tell me.”

“It’s nice,” you sigh contentedly, holding onto his bicep. “It doesn’t feel as good as it should, but it’s better than when I’ve tried by myself recently.”

Luigi smiles against your neck; you feel another quick peck on your skin. “That’s good, but don’t use words like should. This feels like it needs to right now, don’t pit yourself against a standard.”

You nod. “You always know what to say. Thank you for helping me, for talking me through it… You’re so patient.”

“Shh, of course. I just wanna love on you, beautiful girl.” His chin rests against your shoulder, fingers never stopping their soft pattern. “I love you. I’m gonna help you through everything, one step at a time.”

You lean back into him further, eyes half-lidded. “It’s been so weird… not wanting anything. Not feeling anything. You should, I don’t know, jerk off or something, but I know you don’t watch porn…”

Luigi laughs softly against you. “Don’t worry about me. Send me some pretty pictures and maybe I’ll use those.”

You exhale a quiet giggle.

“Seriously, don’t feel guilty. I’m fine.” His arm wraps tighter around your waist. “Just want you to heal.”

You rest, content in the moment, feeling his chest rise and fall. The strokes between your legs continue, steady, light, as if reminding your body it’s still capable of softness, of pleasure. You’re not soaked naturally — that part of you is still adjusting — but the lube helps. So does his touch.

And after a few quiet minutes, something shifts. Nothing dramatic, just a subtle stirring in your lower belly. You press your thighs together slightly, not out of real need, just curiosity.

You tilt your head a little, whispering without turning around. “Lu?”

“Yeah, baby?” His voice is close, lips brushing your ear.

You take a breath, heart a little unsure but hopeful. “Can you try pressing inside? Just one finger. Slow. I don’t know, I’m thinking I could be ready for it.”

He pauses for only a moment, and you feel him smile softly against your shoulder. “Of course. I’ve got you.”

He shifts gently behind you, pulling the blanket down just enough to give himself room to move. His fingers slip away from your clit as he reaches for the lube.

He warms the liquid between his palms before sliding his hand back into your panties, spreading the lube carefully, easing it over your sensitive skin. “Still tender,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you. “You promise you’re okay, baby?”

“Mhm, yeah, I don’t feel too bad right now.” Your eyes flutter closed as he strokes just along your entrance, not pushing, just testing. His other hand keeps rubbing slow circles over your hip, lips pressing lazy kisses to your shoulder.

“You’re doing so well,” he says softly. “Just let me love you, baby girl.”

When he finally begins to ease his middle finger inside, it’s like he’s moving through silk — slow, careful, never past your comfort. The lube helps of course, but more than that, his presence helps. He listens with his whole body, feeling for every flinch, every breath.

“There we go…” he coos, lips brushing the edge of your ear. “Just one finger, yeah? You’re doing amazing. So warm around me already.”

It doesn’t hurt, not with how slow he moves, how he pauses with every millimeter, waiting for your breath to guide him. You grip his thigh where your hand rests, grounding yourself.

Inside, his finger moves slowly, searching for that familiar place — the spot he knows by heart. He doesn’t go straight there. He explores, patiently, waiting for your breath to hitch, your body to lean toward him.

Then, he curls upward.

And there — a gentle pressure. Only gentle, but it’s there. A glimmer of sensation you’d forgotten. You close your eyes, feeling a warmth you hadn’t expected, more emotional than physical at first, the sheer relief of being reminded that pleasure is still possible.

“That’s it,” Luigi murmurs behind you, his voice melting against your ear. “You feel that, baby?”

You nod, your lips parting slightly. “Yeah… I think I do.”

He keeps his finger curled gently, moving in soft pulses, and after a few strokes, returns his thumb to your clit — resuming those gentle, patient circles. The combination is delicate, like a whisper to your nerves.

“There she is,” he says, barely above a breath. “That sweet spot. Your body remembers.”

Silent tears slip down your cheeks again, quiet and freeing. Luigi doesn’t stop holding you. Doesn’t stop murmuring your name like a promise.

“You’re still yours, you know that?” he whispers. “This part of you — all of you. Depression might try to take it, but it can’t have it. I see you. And I’ve got you forever, my girl.”

Your breath hitches a little as the feeling builds — not like before, when arousal hit fast and easy, but a slow climb out of a fog. The dullness you’ve been living in for weeks has lifted just slightly.

Your body involuntarily shifts to meet his hand. Your thighs part a little more. You’re wetter now — still not soaking, but more than before — and you listen to the soft slide of lube mixing with your natural wetness as he moves.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Mhm…” Your voice is a whisper, surprised and relieved. “I’m feeling better.”

There’s a pause. Then you add, almost shyly: “can we try two?”

Luigi stills for a moment, his breath catching — not from lust, but from love. From how much trust you’re offering him right now. He kisses the back of your shoulder. “Yeah. Of course. Let me go slow.”

He eases his finger out, taking a moment to reach for the lube again. The cold of it makes you jump slightly, and he laughs quietly, rubbing your hip. “Sorry, baby. Let me warm it up.”

He slicks his fingers, warming them between his palms, then trails one hand back down your thigh as the other guides his fingers again.

He presses his middle finger in first — smooth, familiar now. Then the second comes gently beside it: his ring finger. He waits; you breathe. He pushes only the tiniest bit at first, and you tense just for a second.

“Hey,” he murmurs near your ear, stilling completely. “You’re okay, shh. Gonna take this so slow for you.”

You exhale, your body relaxing into the slow stretch. It’s not easy — the soreness is still there, alongside that depressive tension that lingers in your muscles, in your skin. But with him behind you, holding you so gently, it’s bearable. More than that, you start to feel real pleasure.

The second finger slides deeper. There’s pressure now, more than before, and a pinch that makes your breath catch. You make a small sound, somewhere between a gasp and a moan.

Luigi’s voice comes right after. “Yeah, I know, baby. It’s a stretch. You’re so tight. So sensitive. But you’re taking me so well. So slow, that’s it…”

You nod, breathing deep. He curls both fingers gently, and this time you feel it deep — the press against your g-spot, more distinct, more layered now. Pain and pleasure tangle together, and for the first time in a long time, it feels like your body is waking up.

You whimper, not from discomfort but from the sheer intensity of sensation after so long without it.

“There you go,” Luigi coos. “That’s it, I can feel you, angel. Feel how your body wants this, even if your mind’s not caught up yet. I’ve got you.”

His thumb returns to your clit, barely brushing now, but every movement adds to the growing fullness inside. The way he rubs over you isn’t fast — it’s rhythmic, grounding, like a pulse. Like a whisper from your own body saying, this is what you need.

Then he pauses — not stopping, but slowing even further — and he kisses your temple. “I’d love to make you come,” he murmurs. “I’d love to feel that from you again. But you don’t owe me that, okay?”

You turn your face just enough to look at him. “I know. I just… I wish I could.”

Luigi shakes his head, brushing your hair back. “Shh. You’re giving me so much already. Letting me in like this, feeling something again. I don’t need anything else, baby, listen to me.”

His fingers are still moving, coaxing now — more confident as your body begins to open. The soreness is still there, but now it lives beside a soothing pleasure. Not heavy, but comforting and warm.

He curls again, more firmly, and your hips shift. You feel pressure that might turn into something, and for the first time in a long time, you want it. Even if your body doesn’t let it come today.

Luigi senses it too. “There she is,” he says softly. “That’s my girl.”

You breathe through it, letting the feelings come in waves. Some are pleasurable, some are emotional. But all of them are yours.

And through it all, Luigi holds you. Kisses you. Keeps rubbing you and curling his fingers like the movements are an act of devotion, not seduction.

Eventually, your body begins to settle again. The tension softens. You don’t come, not today, but you feel good. You feel open, present, alive.

When he finally eases his fingers out, he does it like he’s handling something sacred. He grabs a soft cloth nearby and wordlessly wipes you clean before curling you into his arms again.

You turn toward his chest, pressing your face into him. “Thank you.”

He kisses your forehead. “Always. You’re my baby. Get some sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

tags: @luiluvr @velvet-kissesss @multi-culti-girl @annanotherthingg @palmersluvr @lilbadblueeee @fligniuz @briarloves @daydreamingwithluigi @alleviatcd @mangionesdoll @dracula-reborn @bambimangione @contrarianshitstan-blog @iinfinitelimits @straw8berry @amoungusbartholo @loveauriana

[nats--sw]

Gold chain (pt3) | Leah Williamson

A bit more of Leah while everything around you gets more intense warnings: just fluff and slow burn pt1 - pt4 - my masterlist

Leah's love for tennis skirts had just been solidified. She found herself frozen, her fork suspended midway to her mouth. Your video call had caught her off guard, and the first thing to greet her on the screen was you, your back facing the camera, only in your sports bra and the skirt you wore during your recent match, which had wrapped up just a few hours ago.

"Hellooo?" Leah said, gently placing her fork back onto the table.

"Just a sec!" you called out, still with your back turned to the camera.

Leah watched as you reached into your bag, pulling out a black t-shirt that you slipped on.  Unlike the tight one you wore for tennis, this one was baggy—definitely a guy’s shirt, she thought.

"Did you watch my match?" you asked, now facing the camera on your phone, which sat at the coffee table in the room.

"Yep" Leah replied, flipping her phone’s camera to show the TV tuned to the sports channel.  “Feeling nervous about the quarterfinals?” she asked, sounding both curious and supportive.

"Nah... I don't know who I'll be facing yet though," you said, slipping off your socks. "At least I’ve got two days to rest before the game."

"Yeah, like you’ll actually rest," Leah teased.

"You're probably right," you chuckled knowing she had you figured out. During your first call yesterday, you had explained your intense training routine before matches. "What are you having?" you asked Leah, curiosity evident in your voice as you held your phone again.

"Smiley faces," Leah said, poking a potato and showing it to you through the camera.

"What?" you laughed, not quite sure what she was showing you.

"Potato smiles. Delicious," she said, grinning as she popped the potato into her mouth.

"Ew! Didn't your mum teach you not to talk with your mouth full?" you teased, though you found it amusing to watch Leah goof around. "Do they taste like real potatoes? I've never tried them."

"What are you talking about?" Leah gasped, dramatically dropping her fork onto her plate. "Are you kidding me?"

"Whoa, you sound genuinely offended," you said, struggling to contain your laughter.

"Of course I am! How is it possible you've never tasted these? What did you eat all through your childhood?" she asked, her face completely serious.

"Leah... would you believe me if I told you I didn't try a nugget until I was 16?" you said, your tone turning more serious. "It was when a friend from school invited me over for dinner. My mum was always particular about what I ate." Leah's expression turned to a slight frown as she listened intently. "I always had well-balanced, hearty meals. She just wasn't a fan of processed food," you said, hoping to provide context and prevent any misconceptions about your mother.

"Sounds... kind of sad," Leah said, finishing her last potato. "I should invite you over for smiley faces, shouldn't I?" she asked with a shy smile.

"You could... I'd gladly accept," you replied.

"I'll think about it," Leah said, shaking her head with a playful grin. After a brief pause, her face suddenly lit up. "Oh, I wanted to ask you something."

"What is it?" you asked, intrigued.

"Today, something caught my eye. Well, actually, it's been catching my eye for a while now, but I think I've finally spotted a pattern," Leah explained, narrowing her eyes. "Your chain around your neck... I've seen you tug on it from time to time."

By reflex, your hand went to your neck, and you felt a brief panic when you didn't feel the chain right away, realizing it was hidden beneath your shirt.

"Is it something significant to you?" Leah asked.

"Yes and no. It's kind of silly," you replied, settling into bed and arranging the phone between the pillows. "Sometimes when I'm feeling nervous or a bit anxious, I tug on it to remind myself it's there, but it's not a big deal to me. I started wearing it a few years ago for a silly reason."

You hesitated, thinking you might bore Leah with the details. But seeing her through the screen, now cozy on her couch with a blanket over her legs and a smile on her face, you realized that perhaps this time someone would actually be interested in listening to you.

"I've never been picky," you began to explain. "I never asked my parents for anything special. They always gave me everything I needed, especially when it came to things that could improve my game. But as for gifts, I always felt too embarrassed to ask for certain things." You bit your lip, trying to stay on track with your story. "The thing is, I always wanted a chain. I didn't care much about the material. Everyone at the academy had one, boys and girls. It's a common accessory, after all. I wanted to be like them."

You fell silent, suddenly feeling a bit silly for sharing such trivial details. Leah, however, misinterpreted your silence and blank stare, thinking she had touched on a sensitive subject.

"Did someone special give you the chain you wear?" Leah's gentle voice interrupted your thoughts.

"No," you shook your head, trying to suppress a smile. "I bought it myself. That's why it has my initial on it," you explained, holding the chain up to the camera.

Leah felt conflicted. On one hand, the story ended with a bit of humor, but on the other, there was a hint of sadness. It was the kind of gift typically given by a loved one or partner, and in the end, you had to buy it for yourself… which was a bit sad.

"After I won my first WTA title, I had quite a bit of money, so I went to the first jewelry store I could find and bought it," you explained.

You noticed the puzzled expression on Leah's face; she had gone silent when you expected her to laugh at the end of the story. You smiled nervously, wondering if you were diving too deep into conversations with her.

"Maybe she thinks you're weird," the insecurity echoed in your head.

Just then, a notification popped up on your phone, rescuing you from overthinking.

"Ugh, I've got to go meet Lucas. He wants to work on my serve," you said, standing up quickly with your phone in hand.

"You have a great serve," Leah said without hesitation.

"You're only saying that because you're a fan," you replied, rolling your eyes and trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach that always fluttered when Leah complimented your game.

"Exactly, and I watch every move you make," she said, crossing her arms and wrinkling her nose playfully.

"How adorable," you thought to yourself.

"Tell your coach you don't need any improvement," Leah said.

"He's my coach. I pay him to help me get better," you said as you slipped on your shoes.

"Yeah, whatever," Leah responded with a playful smirk.

"Do you buy the whole love at first sight thing? Ouch!" you winced as your physio applied pressure, stretching your leg into a position that felt tight.

"Take a deep breath," advised your therapist, easing off the pressure. "There you go," she said, gently returning your leg to its natural position.

"It's not something I believe in, in case you're wondering," you said, laying face down on the table and removing your headphones. Conversations during your physio sessions were rare, you typically dozed off, hence the headphones to drown out the noise around you.

"I guess that's not your cup of tea," your physio chuckled softly, now focusing on massaging your calves. "Is she pretty? They say love often comes in through the eyes, especially if it's love at first sight, as you said."

"She's definitely pretty, yeah," you admitted, wincing as your therapist's thumbs applied pressure into your muscles. "Geez, who said these sessions were relaxing?" you muttered, closing your eyes to bear the discomfort. "She's pretty, but it's more than that... I feel like I can talk to her."

"Y/N, you talk with tons of people every day," your therapist reminded you. "Honestly, you never seem to stop talking," she added with a laugh.

"It's different with her. I can talk about anything, even tennis, but there's no pressure... It's like talking to her puts me at ease," you explained.

It was so calming that you had fallen asleep chatting with her the last two nights.

"I shouldn't be catching feelings for someone I'm just getting to know," you sighed.

"Well, actually, it's perfectly normal," your physio reassured you.

You sighed with relief as the tension in your muscles began to ease under her skilled hands. It wasn't a sigh of relief because someone validated your growing feelings for Leah. Definitely not.

"There are times when love hits you fast and hard, you know? When it's intense." the woman explained, now focusing on your back. "And you, my dear, are intense. It wouldn't be surprising if you fell in love just as fast."

"I haven't fallen in love," you protested, attempting to sit up from the table, but your therapist effortlessly kept you pinned down with a swift motion.

"And you're impulsive," she added with a tired sigh, familiar with your reactions. "I'm surprised you haven't declared yourself to her already."

"There is no one," you insisted.

"You've already admitted there's a pretty girl and that you have feelings for her, even if you're not quite sure what those feelings are yet," she teased with a mischievous smile. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to have someone special," she suggested, helping you onto your back on the table. "She could be good for you… here" she said, gently touching your heart. "And here," she continued, touching your temple with her finger.

"What are we watching?" Lia asked, settling down next to Leah on the couch. They had planned a dinner date to catch up, but Lia suspected it was more about Leah avoiding another night of cooking.

"There's a match about to start," Leah replied, quickly grabbing the remote from her friend's hands.

Lia glanced at the screen, which now displayed the stats of two tennis players. "Has Wimbledon started already?"

"No," Leah sighed, rolling her eyes. "There are tournaments throughout the year, not just the Grand Slams," she explained, her focus on the screen.

"Since when are you an expert on this?" Lia asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It's basic knowledge, not all sports revolve around football," Leah defended herself as the players stepped onto the court.

"Is this match a big deal?" 

"It's the quarterfinals," Leah replied.

"How do they win?" Lia inquired further.

"They win by taking two sets." Leah explained, her irritation starting to show.

"And how do they win those sets?" Lia pressed on.

"God, Lia, just watch and you'll figure it out," Leah snapped, feeling her nerves creeping in. She was clearly on edge.

“Why are you so grumpy today?” Lia eyed her suspiciously.

"What's wrong with her? What's she doing?" murmured Leah, leaning back on the couch, her eyes glued to the match on the tv screen.

"Huh?" Lia turned to her.

"She's struggling to reach her shots," Leah pointed out, just as you lost another point. "She had the match in her bag."

It was true. You had started strong, winning the first set 6-1 and even taking a 4-1 lead in the second set. But now, your opponent had fought back, and you found yourself in a 1-6 tiebreaker, unable to secure more than a single point.

"Set point," was announced on the tv, and Leah waved her hand.

You positioned yourself, shifting from side to side, anticipating your opponent's serve. But before you could react, she sent a powerful shot down the line, leaving you with no chance to return it.

"Bloody hell," Leah exclaimed, standing up from the couch.

"Woah, I didn't know you were so into tennis," Lia remarked, intrigued by Leah's intense reaction.

"It just frustrates me when they give away easy points during a match," Leah explained, which was partly true. Your unforced errors had contributed to your opponent's comeback in the set.

Leah let out a long sigh and sank back onto the couch. She couldn't relax until you managed to turn the match around and win the third set tiebreaker 7-4, securing your spot in the semifinals. You had come dangerously close to losing your spot in the semifinals.

Leah couldn't bring herself to try talking to you all day. It had been a dreadful match, one of the worst she had ever seen you play. Despite not knowing you that well, Leah figured you probably needed some space and didn't want to talk to anyone for a while. She had watched you storm off the court after the match, something she had never seen you do before. The heated exchanges with the chair umpire and the tense moments with your coach had been impossible to ignore. 

She had only mustered the courage to send a brief message: 

"Hope you're doing okay." 

But you hadn't responded yet.

So, when she was already tucked up in bed, half asleep, she was surprised to see an incoming video call from you.

"Y/N?" Leah replied, not looking at the screen as she fumbled to switch on her nightstand lamp.

"Shit, I didn't mean to wake you up." you apologized.

"I wasn't quite asleep yet," Leah said, finally turning her attention to the screen. "Are you okay?" she asked, sitting up in bed, noticing your slightly red and puffy eyes.

"Yeah," you lied, settling back on the couch and pulling your blanket up to your neck. "What about you? How was your day?"

"I just watched your match, which was horrible," Leah thought, feeling sorry for you, but instead she replied, "Not much. I just had dinner with some friends."

Leah couldn't help but smile as she saw your features relax at her answer. She knew you had probably anticipated her bringing up the match. You had mentioned how intense your day usually was: tennis talk at breakfast, tennis talk in the afternoon, tennis talk at dinner.

"Nothing too delicious," Leah continued. "Did you have dinner?"

You didn't respond verbally, instead, you shook your head and bit your lip, a sign of your struggle to hold back tears. Leah immediately noticed.

"I was running late and didn't feel like eating alone," you explained. "But my physio brought me a sandwich about half an hour ago. I'm just not hungry."

Leah frowned. She mentally calculated the hours since the match had ended at noon. Considering the disastrous game, you probably hadn't eaten afterward, and your stomach was likely empty except for breakfast.

"You should eat," Leah insisted gently.

"I don't want to eat alone, it's... depressing," you admitted, sinking further into the couch. Leah could barely see your mouth now, the blanket covering you.

"Okay, hold on," Leah said, letting out a sigh as she got out of bed. She placed the phone on her bed and reached for a hoodie. "Come on," she said, picking up her phone again.

You watched through the screen as Leah left her room and headed to her kitchen, leaving the phone on the counter.

"Okay, what kind of sandwich did you get?"

"Huh?"

"I'll eat with you," Leah explained simply, reaching for the bag of bread. "Well?"

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help but smile. It was such a tender gesture, one that softened your heart. Leaning over to the coffee table, you picked up the bag your physio had left there. You hadn't even opened it yet.

"Let me see..." you said, pulling out the sandwich and reading the ingredients on the box. "Tuna, cucumber, mayonnaise, and salad cream."

"Ugh, not my favorite," Leah said, her face visible at the edge of the screen as she looked through her fridge.

"What's your favorite?" you asked, starting to unwrap your sandwich. Suddenly feeling your appetite return.

"I'm a ham and cheese girl. I like to keep it simple," Leah explained, already assembling her own sandwich.

"Sounds boring," you teased with a chuckle. Leah stuck her tongue out at you. "I prefer egg sandwiches. Probably the store didn't have any."

"What else did your physio get you?"

"Uh... a bottle of water and a bottle of juice."

"Orange?" Leah guessed, reaching for a box of orange juice.

"Yes," you confirmed, smiling as you watched Leah return to the couch, settled in just like you with a blanket on her lap. She held up her sandwich to the camera.

"Shall we eat?"

An hour later, you were in bed, with Leah still on the screen, tucked under her own sheets. The time had flown by as Leah passionately tried to convince you why Arsenal was the top club in London.

"Uh, according to Google, the men's team hasn't won a league since 2004," you teased in a mocking tone, enjoying Leah's furrowed brow and her stumbling attempts to defend her team. "And the women's team... maybe I shouldn't say anything," you added innocently, staring up at the ceiling.

"Oi! You're being mean!" Leah protested. "I just won a cup, you know?"

Of course you knew, you had seen the post on Leah’s instagram. 

"Winning a cup isn't quite the same as winning a league," you continued to tease.

"What would you know about it? You only just learned the difference between a cup and a league because I explained it to you," Leah retorted, though she couldn't help but crack a smile. Despite her attempt to feign annoyance, she couldn't shake the sense of relief seeing you in a better mood than an hour ago "You're such a headache sometimes.”

"Sorry," you said between laughs. "Well, I'd better get some sleep. Got an early start tomorrow."

Leah's heart sank at the reminder of your upcoming semifinal match. She knew you had pushed yourself to the limit today, both physically and mentally.

"Thank you," you added, catching Leah off guard.

"Huh?" Leah's brow furrowed in confusion.

"For not bringing that up," you explained, your cheeks tinted with embarrassment. "I really appreciate it... I just needed to talk to someone. And you're easy to talk to."

Leah's heart skipped a beat. 

"It was nothing. You can talk to me anytime, about anything, including that," Leah assured, offering you a warm smile.

You fell silent for a moment, your eyes closed. Leah almost thought you had drifted off to sleep until she heard your voice again.

"I've never won a semifinal match on grass," you confessed. "I hate playing on grass. I can't move like I want to, can't slide, the ball bounces weird... It's a faster game, and I don't like it."

Leah struggled to find the right words to comfort you, though it seemed you weren't seeking comfort. You just needed to vocalize your thoughts.

"Well… get some good rest," you said "Speak to you tomorrow."

"Sleep well," Leah replied softly, just before you disappeared from her screen.

Leah hadn't been able to watch your game; she'd been tied up with a radio interview in the afternoon. Perhaps it was a good thing, sparing her from witnessing what felt like a complete disaster.

You were trailing 1-0 after losing the first set 6-2.

"Y/N, listen up," Lucas's voice echoed in your head as you wiped your face with your towel. He sounded both concerned and frustrated. "You've got to get up to the net. Focus and do it just like we practiced this morning.”

The tension intensified in the second set, now tied at 3-3. Each point intensified, increasing the pressure on your already fatigued body.

Struggling to steady your breath and calm your racing heart, you attempted to regain your composure. Lucas's instructions only seemed to agitate you further. Your serves lacked accuracy and power, the weight of exhaustion settled in your arms and legs.

With your breath hitching, you turned to Lucas "Gotta keep your mouth shut," you muttered to him, before returning to your position on the court.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, trying to shut out your coach's voice which, instead of helping, was only adding to the overwhelming pressure and fear of failure creeping in. 

For a while, you felt completely disconnected from the game, just focusing on getting the ball back over the net and hoping for the best. Your ears felt muffled, you swung at balls in every direction, chasing after them when your legs allowed. It felt like your body was on autopilot.

When you finally regained control, you glanced at the scoreboard. It read 5-4, with the set tied at 30-30. Had you been playing for that long already?

"Just 2 more points and I'm out," you muttered to yourself, accepting the ball from the ball kid who hesitated a moment before returning to her position. Your emotional state must have caught her attention, you could feel tears welling up, but you refused to let them fall now. You couldn't afford to show weakness, not in front of them.

You adjusted your visor lower, not too concerned that it obstructed your view. After all, you were resigned to the inevitable defeat, recovering from this set, let alone the entire match, felt beyond your grasp.

Taking a deep breath, you served. Your opponent effortlessly returned the ball, and when you sent it back, she executed a perfect drop shot with spin. Despite your best efforts, your legs failed to get you to the net before the ball bounced a second time. 

All you could do was shake your head and chuckle at the brilliance of the shot. It was a damn good point.

The next rally was a bit longer. Determined to get at least a point, you decided to take a calculated risk. You placed the ball strategically close to the net, hoping to force your opponent into a difficult position. Yet, she managed to return the ball, forcing you to approach the net. Anticipating her move, you weren't surprised when the ball sailed over your head, landing just inside the line behind you.

And with that, it was over.

"Stay the hell away from me!" you shouted as Lucas and your physio entered the dressing room. You pointed your racket at him. "I don't want to hear a word from you!"

"Y/N, calm down," Lucas said, his brow furrowed in concern.

"I said no! Get out!" Tears streaked down your face, your voice raw with frustration. "You're the reason I lost!" you accused him, venom lacing your words as you vented on your racket, smashing it against the ground. "You told me to charge the net," you seethed, the anger palpable. "And what happens? She pulls off the damn shot of her life!"

Deep down, you knew it wasn't entirely his fault.

Lucas struggled to make out your words through your sobs and the racket's crashing impact. He signaled to your physio to grab your bag of remaining rackets before you decided to destroy another one.

"You need to cool off," your physio interjected, her tone firm.

"I need everyone to leave me the hell alone!" you yelled, throwing the shattered pieces of your racket against the wall in a burst of frustration.

Lucas shook his head and firmly guided you to sit on the bench. "Listen to me," he said,but you shook your head, lost in your thoughts. Frustrated, Lucas removed your visor and tossed it aside to get a clear view of your face, then gently tilted your chin to meet his eyes. "I said listen to me, kiddo."

You met his gaze, holding your breath. He looked visibly upset, his brow furrowed deeper than usual. Taking a moment to study him, you noticed the new wrinkles and more gray hairs, likely a result of the stress you often caused him.

"You played well today," he continued, his voice steady but firm, still holding your gaze. "But she played better. It's not a reflection of your performance, it's not about you playing badly. Can we improve? Absolutely. And we will, I promise you that. But for now, we need to stop."

"What do you mean?" you asked.

"You're drained," your physio chimed in. "Your body can't handle more. Your muscles are exhausted."

"And your mind isn't much better. Since the first game you've been clouded," Lucas added, sighing. "We're heading back to England first thing tomorrow."

"Eastbourne?" you asked. 

Lucas shook his head. "No, you won't be playing in any more tournaments until Wimbledon. I've made it clear, you need to stop," he said firmly, now taking a seat beside you. "We're heading to London. Your psychologist is already there."

You had resisted having a psychologist travel with your team for months, but now circumstances were different.

"You'll see the psychologist tomorrow and then you'll rest for a few days. Your rackets are off-limits," your physio said, your bag slung over her shoulder as she tried to lighten the mood. "Seriously, no tennis, not even for fun," she added quickly, when she saw you about to protest. "We'll focus on light gym sessions, nothing more. These are your days off, you'll do anything but tennis."

You nodded, feeling somewhat scolded, almost like a child.

As the tension eased, the reality of a few days off in London began to sink in.

"Leah," you muttered. 

"Huh? Did you say something?" Lucas turned to you when he heard your voice. You hadn't realized you had spoken aloud.

"What time is our flight?"

[lasirenatarot]

What you need to hear right now.

/general messages, timeless/

🌟PAC READING🌟

Pick a perfume:

NOTE: some messages are quite specific, but might help someone who needs to hear them❤️ so keep that in mind, not everything will resonate for all, it is a general reading after all.

Pile 1:

Poison girl.

Cards that fell; 3 of pentacles, ace of pentacles, 4 of wands reversed. Gift, pleasure seekers cards from an oracle deck.

- I think you might loose a sum of money or you recently have lost some, another case may be that your financial situation might have not been the best recently and you kind of felt helpless? (Idk why im getting that). However, your financial situation has a huge potential for improvement as you may get a present (either an item or a sum of money from someone) which may ease your financial worries. This present may even help you enjoy your life more as you will not have the « weight » of worrying about the near future and how you’re gonna make ends meet.

- Another possible scenario instead of getting a gift may be getting a higher salary than anticipated which can help you make up for the recent times of struggle.

- be focused on whatever you are working on ( studies, job, sports etc.. ) DO NOT loose your focus, this may make you miss a big opportunity if you are not consistent. AND the opposite: if you continue on working, being consistent and putting in the effort you may receive better things/opportunities than you have even imagined. It all depends on you.

- for those who have recently met or have started having hopes of starting a relationship with a romantic interest: this person may not have the intetions of being in a serious relationship with you at this point of time. Be careful and seek your OWN best interest, not theirs.

Pile 2:

Baccarat rouge.

Cards: 10wands, 8wands, 5 wands reversed, judgement reversed.

- Sadly for this pile we are starting a bit negatively; you may have recently experienced a burnout or you are quite overworked due to having too much different stuff to do and take care of. What you need to know at this moment is that not everything is your responsibility: people’s actions, their poor life choices or how they live their life. You might be a person who (not exactly likes, but more of feels the need to help others at the expense of your own mental well being/emotions/mood even. You may simply just be used of being the “problem solver” & emotional trashbin for others) likes helping others, always be there for them and listen when they have struggles, but what you may not see is that by always being there for others u may create in them what I’ve read psychologists call “learned incompetence”. Basically by doing a task for someone (that was not yours to begin with) and letting them vent nonstop u’ve made them incompetent to deal with their own issues bc they may think you will always be there to fix it for them. Main message for this pile; prioritise yourself even if this means cutting ppl off because they drain you emotionally, not every person deserves explanation for how you decide to react to their behavior. Don’t be part of confrontations.

Extra message: beware of people who try to play “saints” in your life, such who have victim complex and always have a problem with everyone.

Everyone gets what they deserve in the end.

- After a tough emotional period your situation may quickly turn to positive and joyful. You may meet new friends.

Good luck🙏🏻

Pile 3:

Lost cherry.

- Very soon you might receive news you’ve been waiting for a long time. May be in a form of email/letter or a friend telling you. You may have felt like you’ve “lost yourself” a bit recently and after receiving these news you will definitely feel more at peace. Some may have been thru a breakup recently, you may finally start feeling better and more like yourself.

- you may meet a potential love interest soon or if you already have someone concrete in mind you communicate with (don’t be delulu having random crushes) you may actually begin a romantic relationship with them ( the energy I get is quite positive).

- you may need to follow “tradition” or already tried methods or consulting with a wise person if you need help with someting. (Or simply a tip)

Pile 4:

Hypnotic poison.

- You may reunite with an old friend soon. (Im particularly getting one you may know from school, but may not applicable for all)

- You may end or will end soon a chapter of your life in order to make space for better things to come.

- You may find understanding/help from someone you have not expected, while at the same time be dissapointed of someone you had trust in and expected to be there for you.

- No matter the circumstances try not to be too cocky and egoistical. You may currently be very motivated for success and have recently gained a lot of confidence due to something in your life. Keep yourself grounded and do not forget where you come from.

That was all from today’s PAC. I apologise for not including the name of the cards which fell for all the piles but I accidentally put them back in the deck and forgot to write them lol..Hope you enjoyed it tho!!

Photos are from pinterest; all credits to their respective owners.

Leave a comment/feedback if it resonated, share and follow for more.

- La Sirena💋

[cntrlnoah]

Photoism

Summary: Rafe’s shy girl wants to take photobooth pictures with him on a date.

Pairing: Rafe x shy!fem!reader

Warning: food mentions, kissing, Rafe being a tease, nicknames (sweet cheeks, princess), Rafe flipping off the camera

A/N: sorry it took so long. got really busy with work. hope you enjoy! (^з^)-☆ idk if all of y’all know photo booths work cause each one of different so I took inspo from the photo booth in my Koreatown and how it works 🤍🤍🤍

Little dates with Rafe are common. Whether it was getting boba from the newest tea shop to something a bizarre as paint ball. Rafe loved surprising you with cute little dates.

Today was no different as he took you out on a trip to Koreatown. He wanted to try the new fried chicken place people were raving about. It was in this food gallery like place. Full of cute decor and soft kpop songs playing on the radio.

On the corner of your eyes you spot a couple leaving the photo booth giggling as they hold a photostrip each. Something in you made you want to do it with Rafe but you were too shy to ask. As you both finish eating the fried chicken, Rafe made mental note on how your eyes lingered back to the photo booth.

As the two of you are nearly about to leave you finally gained the confidence to ask him to take some pictures.

“Hey Rafe…can we take some photo booth pictures be for we go?” you said very timidly. “It’s…just I’ve been eyeing the photobooth recently—” but before you can finish to it ramble explaining why you wanted to Rafe kissed you to shut you up.

“You know you don’t need to explain sweet cheeks. I’ve seen you eyeing that machine for a while. If it makes you happy I’m willing to do so” he says. As he says that your cheeks go red over the nickname and the kiss.

“Come on princess don’t go all shy on me now? We still have pictures to take” he says feigning concern but the smirk plastered on his face gave his real reaction away. As he says this you start to drag him into the photo booth.

Inside the photo booth was a screen which displayed a start button. As you click the button, the screen turns into the styles of photos you can get from 2 2x6 photo strips with 4 frames for $5 or 2 4x6 sheets with 6 frames for $8. You choose the option for $5 and the screen tells you to insert a $5 bill in the slot under the screen to begin. Rafe hands you a $5 bill from his Hermes wallet for you. As the machine takes the bill the screen mirrors the you and Rafe, letting you see what the poses would look like. You guys had 8 takes for poses and 15 seconds to do them.

The first pose you wanted to do was a cute one so you put your hands in the shape of a heart to you cheek, Rafe on the other hand flipped of the camera but before you could react the camera shuttered and you’ve used up one of the frames.

The next pose was you doing the same pose but Rafe this time following in suit.

After that, y’all did peace signs with both of your hands.

Each frame was different from silly to cute and much more.

For the last one, Rafe wanted to do something. He pretended to do another pose but right before the counter reached 0 he grabbed your chin and leaned you in for a big kiss. After pulling away from the kiss your face turned bright red.

“Rafe!” you whined. “What? Don’t tell me you didn’t like it princess. Come on let’s choose the frames before the timer runs out love” he states.

After he said that you both looked at the screen and looked over the poses you want. You choose the peace sign one first. Rafe says, “ we should do this one. I look bad ass.” He points to the one where he flips off the camera. “But it so vulgar”, you said. Rafe chuckles as he heard you say that. “C’mon princess, I’ll let you pick the next one okay?” Rafe says. You nod as you pick the one where you both did the hearts.

The last photo was the one you had struggle with. Do you choose the silly one with both of you sticking out your tongue or the cute one where you both did animal ears? Rafe then butts in, “We should do the last one where we kissed.” You looked at the last one and blush.

“But it’s so unexpected I don’t look ready” you said. Rafe just smirks, “You’re not supposed to look ready. That’s why it’s good. Plus the kiss was pretty nice.” “No it wasn’t” you said blushing like crazy. Rafe looks you up and down, “Don’t lie to me princess. I like it so I’m choosing it” he says clicking on the photo.

After that you got to choose the frame, you went with the pastel pink and blue ombré frame. You both waited for the photos to print and got out of the booth enjoying the rest of the day around town.