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[celestialtarot11]

Moon in the 12h in combination with esoteric astrology

Hi friends! I really hope you enjoy this deep dive into understanding the 12th house a bit more and the moon placement. I compare both traditional & esoteric astrology—which is the reading of the soul. Do enjoy, leave feedback & comments to help this blog! Also because I’m curious to hear your thoughts always. I am only doing research and sharing it!

The moon in esoteric astrology is regarded as the past, our visceral self, aka “the soul.” Known in traditional astrology the moon holds powerful ties to our past, ancestors and trauma. The moon is so much more than our everyday emotions. So how does this play into natives with the 12th house?

That is why it is important to understand the moon in an esoteric sense, alongside traditional astrology. The moon is regarded as “vulcan,” another term. The moon describes the kind of life we had in a previous life, imprinting on our current one. With this being the case, it represents our ego as well in a lot of ways.

Our ties to our past (both in our previous life, and past also meaning current trauma in this lifetime) can control us. If you choose to believe your past life is imprinting on your current, you can understand how the need to heal from the sabotage we did to ourselves is part of the “ego.” Ego in this sense has barely much to do with pride—its our visceral trauma responses.

And you can also understand how our current trauma in this lifetime can result in the need to protect ourselves and hide behind narratives and perspectives that do not help us (the ego).

Having moon in the 12th house can point to a previous lifetime, or your past trauma(if you don’t believe in past lives) where you experienced isolation and loneliness in the face of trauma. It’s the loneliness that contributes to trauma in the first place—whereas if you had a community it would’ve been managed completely different.

Moon in the 12th house can point to addiction to self sabotage, self harm, toxicity in relationships. Tolerating more than needed, ex: abuse. The native can feel alive in these hurtful conditions because it’s the one thing that makes them feel. But this can spiral unhealthily really fast.

When the native first approaches healing or peace—they can deem it as “boring,” because their nervous system has never been in this state before.

To get a closer look, in esoteric astrology, the NN can describe what kind of consciousness is playing out over your lifetimes or if you prefer it: this lifetime. What you are meant to learn, know, and evolve into with the wisdom you gather about yourself.

The SN in esoteric astrology describes our “past lifetime” “previous life” that is imprinting on our current. Or if you prefer it: your trauma currently needing healing.

For example a NN in Taurus, SN in Scorpio native: their trauma/past lifetime could have included multiple losses, and grief. Losing a parent due to abandonment, experiencing separation of the parents or being neglected. Or all of it. It’s very likely the native experienced eating issues as a way to have control over their life, i.e. hurting themselves brings a sense of “control,” even though it is considered unhealthy.

SN in Scorpio could have also made the native experience exclusion in their community. Their peers could have disliked them from a young age, and the native struggled to find their community. Once again—replaying that loneliness they experienced.

NN in Taurus teaches the native that part of their peace comes from going within and validating their emotions from what they experienced. To experience control by releasing control over external factors. To not just survive off of physical means, but to create an emotionally stable environment to thrive.

The moon is also considered a death stage esoterically, meaning this isn’t about fertility, nor is it about ripening seeds, or manifesting. This is about ending cycles of addiction, pain and suffering.

The only thing coming next after the moon, systemically is the earth where the healing begins, metaphorically speaking. Where the native feels stability internally to begin planting seeds and maintaining them.

If I were to tie this into 12h moon placements—it’s that you need to plant your seeds. You need to materialize your hopes and dreams and not victimize yourself through past patterns. You need to do more than survive, and allow yourself to thrive. To become so safe enough that you root yourself in new communities and feel worthy enough to explore earth. And that means starting with yourself.

I suppose that’s why a lot of 12th house moons have a “scorpionic” vibe. It’s because they carry the moons death energy, aka the “vulcan.” The moon esoterically is death after all, and so many natives have experienced constant endings and beginnings with this placement. They have seen so many dimensions to life—too much for it to be simple.

The 12th house itself

In esoteric astrology, the 12th house is regarded as the “bondage” to the “ego.” If you really our earlier explanation, the ego is our trauma and formed response to keep us safe.

This house rules over ignorance of our trauma, the inability to receive help, only feeding into the loop of self sabotage.

In traditional astrology views the 12th house as “hidden,” or “secretive.” Esoteric astrology acknowledges it differently—they see it as a vessel into the underworld. A gateway. A vast network of telepathy within the natives community.

They acknowledge this as not necessarily hidden, but the native taking a deep dive into mass consciousness that exists in front our eyes.

Therefore, it’s not really a secret if you pay attention.

Then, the native is able to access that “hidden knowledge,” and turn it into public knowledge. Although many of the times this is considered taboo knowledge since the native can know things other people consider, “heavy,” “dark,” or “disturbing.” Even though, the native knows having critical complex thoughts is necessary.

It is necessary to think critically, according to the native given their complex life experiences. The native actually has a lot of “hidden” resources at their disposal in this lifetime and can use it to their will. Manifestation, universal laws, spiritual insight, etc whatever you call it.

Some may fixate on the 12th house as the ego driven house—again, fear, trauma and loss. Whilst this is absolutely true of the natives, esoteric astrology adds another meaning. It also means resurrection of the soul of the native. The purest form and light. Alchemy of the ego.

Hope ya’ll enjoyed! I really appreciate ya’ll being here and taking the time to read. Your feedback is appreciated.

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[thereblob]

Huh, I got a "Create a new community" post on my dashboard. But that's all it will let me do. I can't seem to skip it to just ... look at what communities already exist.

[mellotronmkll]

I need to stop having one weird reaction with someone and then letting the anxiety decide in my head that the friendship is doomed because I ruined it like it's my absolute worst trait and I just have to move past it but it's hard

[hummingbird-games]

this sounds extremely fatalistic and especially insane to say during BHM from yours truly, but I'm spiraling and looking at data and the state of the world (& my country specifically) and the stories I want to tell and the people who stories are centered and...

I don't think I ever want to charge money for my games. ever. they'll be free for the unforeseen future because I'm not tanking my health further by stressing out over what hateful, racist, insane players think. I'm already catching strays from trying to have f!MC protagonists??? can you unpack why that makes you wanna lash out and be nasty?? but preferably with someone else that's not me.

people talk such a big game about diversity and being inclusive and listening to Black voices and then turn around do the exact opposite. every single time.

ugh, I have a queued post going up...tomorrow?? that's a reblog from last year, but a warning: I was a very different person with a very different well of energy when I wrote it and when I scheduled that reblog.

[httpsserene]

𝐦𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐩𝐚 - 𝐥𝐧. 𝟒 (& 𝐨𝐩. 𝟖𝟏)

summary: you and lando are blessed with a beautiful baby boy. content warning: fluff, humor, slightly suggestive at times, and mainly crack/shitpost energy. reader owns & works in her bakery in monaco. images used are not mine. pairing: lando norris x fem!black!reader (& platonic oscar pastry) genre: smau & written fic combination (it's a longgg one)

author's notes: y'all i'm warning you i took it too far this time. it's long aslllll. but it might be the best thing i've ever offered to f1 tumblr in my entire career.

grab a snack, drink, and tuck yourself into a comfortable position xxx

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imessage • preseason 2023

That’s how you find yourself outside of the MTC in the mid-morning two days later. You’re mildly…exhausted, after commandeering the kitchen in Lando’s Silverstone flat to make a sickening amount of banana bread to feed all of McLaren. After tipping your Uber to the MTC double what the ride costs (for allowing you to stuff his car with a hundred pounds of your decadent treat and helping you unload them into the lobby), you’re greeted with warm welcomes and hungry eyes from the staff. Eager to eat, they’re quick to find you a couple of carts to help you move all the banana bread to the communal area. You’re walking backward to make sure none of your sliced loaves fall, smiling with all the workers as they follow you through the building. Setting up shop, you hand out your sliced banana bread, chatting and catching up with everyone as they sing praises over your sweet treat. Word travels around the MTC quickly when it comes to you bringing baked goods and it comes as no surprise to you when you see a perplexed and overwhelmed Oscar Piastri join the line. You’re bursting with excitement and anticipation by the time he’s picking up his slice.

“Thank you for the banana bread,” Oscar expresses softly, his smile boxy.

“Oh, of course,” you dismiss his gratitude lightly, struggling to keep your cuteness aggression at bay, “I’ve been doing this for the factory since Lando joined–and I figured it would be a good welcoming gift for you!”

“Wait–are you Lando’s girlfriend?” Oscar chokes on his bite of bread.

You rush forward to pat his back, ordering for someone to get him a glass of water; you would hate to be responsible for the death of Mclaren’s rookie driver. When his airways are cleared, you exchange proper greetings and you are quick to make sure Lando has been treating him well. 

“Honestly, I should’ve known it was you” Oscar chuckles, “Lando cannot stop talking about you. Zak had to establish a rule that only allowed him to mention you two times an hour.”

“That must have been rough for him,” you snort dryly, “the rule was five times an hour last year. Anyways, Oscar–who do you main on Mario Kart? This could make or break our friendship.”

You find yourself enamored with Oscar as the conversation goes on. He stands and keeps you company as you continue to hand out banana bread. It’s mostly you doing the talking; Oscar’s quiet, a man of few words but he listens well. He has a sarcastic sense of humor that is similar to Lando’s yet completely different: Lando’s jokes are loud, Oscar’s are hushed. He’s humble, shy even, flustering when you lightly tease him. You’re well past having Oscar as your friend—you’re convinced that he’s achieved little brother or son status.

“Banana Bread!” Zak shouts as he walks up to the two of you, Lando at his side, “Please tell me this is your homemade version?”

“I would never settle for store-bought banana bread,” you gasp dramatically, “It’s homemade as always, Zak. This time I did my grandmother’s recipe instead of my own.”

The CEO practically jumps with glee and rushes to grab a couple of slices–he’s only had this version of the dessert once, and swore it changed his life. Lando walks to you, pressing a kiss to your temple before nodding at Oscar.

“What do you think, love, “Lando hums to you softly, “Did he pass the test?”

You blink up at him and whisper, “I invited him over for dinner tonight—do you think we can use one of the printers here to print out adoption forms?”

bahrain • 2023

After qualifying, it felt like you and Zak were the only people in the garage who remained optimistic for race day. Lando was less than pleased with placing 11th; he parroted words of positivity and hope for improvement but in the privacy of your hotel room he crumbled. He buried his face in your neck muffling just how low his expectations for this season are. You tried to convince him it was too early in the season—the first race weekend—to make that decision but, he was too in his feelings to see reason. 

Oscar was disappointed in himself for placing 18th. When he took off his helmet after returning to the garage, you could see the doubt in his skills lingering through his eyes. You pulled him to sit with you as you continued to wait for the second session to begin and gently reassured him that this wasn’t an accurate representation of his skills; Formula One is a massive change from Formula Two. Oscar nodded at your reassurance but you could tell he was still freshly in shock at his “terrible” performance so your logical advice wasn’t believed. 

On race day, however, you found your positivity dip as well. Oscar DNF’d on lap 13 and rage filled the spot that optimism used to inhabit. The Australian was handling his retirement better than you were; he brushed off everybody’s apologies and went straight to reviewing his data and watching Lando’s race—you, however, wanted to snap at any of his mechanics that walked by. It wasn’t like Lando’s race was any better if you could call what he was doing a race. Slow pit stops, six pit stops at that, the fast lap gamble failure, finishing last, and being two laps down from the race leader…Zak took one glance at you and quickly made himself scarce.

You rode back with both of the boys to the hotel and nearly cried for them with how down the mood was. On the walk to your rooms, Oscar attempted to exchange goodbyes with you and Lando before you cut him off.

“Uh-uh, nope,” you shook your head, “I pre-ordered dinner for us. Come eat?”

Oscar stuttered, “O-oh? I don’t want to intrude–”

“Oscar Jack Piastri,” both he and Lando winced at the sound of his full name, “I’m not going to let either one of you go to bed on an empty stomach. You’re going to eat dinner with me and Lan and you’re going to drink several glasses of water so I can make sure you’re properly rehydrated. Understood?”

“I would love to have dinner with you guys,” Oscar blinked at you in fear, “Also, how do you know my middle name?”

You laughed as you unlocked the door, holding it open for both of the boys as you walked in, “I had a wonderful conversation with your mother, of course.”

“When did you meet my mom?!”

australia • 2023

You were on the edge of losing your voice as you screamed and cheered with Nicole Piastri and Adam Norris for both of the McLaren boys and their double points finishes. The two drivers finishing in the midfield felt like the team had figured something out for Oscar’s home race (if you ignored how almost half of the drivers retired their cars). The Piastri’s invited everyone to a local restaurant to celebrate Oscar’s first points in Formula One, but before you and Lando headed out, the two of you nearly lost your minds.

The two of you forced him to pose with his car and take several pictures with it, strongly suggesting that he smiles big and wide for the camera. Fernando and Lewis walked by and burst into laughter, claiming that you and Lando were treating Oscar like a child. So, obviously, the two of you committed to the bit. You guys cooed and called Oscar’s name, clapping and jumping to pretend like he was a toddler whose attention needed to be grabbed to have him look at the camera. The rookie cringed in embarrassment, cheeks burning red as he tried to convince you guys to stop making a fuss over him.

Lando gasped, sickened at Oscar’s words, “Oscar! How could you say such a thing to your mother and me? We only want to celebrate our boy!”

You nodded furiously in agreement, nearly breaking character at the dumbfounded look that rose to the Australian’s face.

“What the fuck,” Oscar blurted out, yet he continued to smile for your camera.

“Oh my god!” You said appalled, “Lando did you teach our son that foul language?! I told you not to curse in front of the baby!”

instagram • bakewithyn • april 6th • melbourne ⚑

liked by, oscarpiastri, landonorris, mclaren, markwebber, and 413,257 others

bakewithyn: happy birthday oscar 🥳 there’s no birthday gift like scoring your FIRST EVER POINTS in f1 at your HOME race but !!! i’m super happyyy you enjoyed the 🐨 cookies i made for you (lando helped ig 😐) 🤗🤗🤗

tagged oscarpiastri

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📌 yninstagram ps! these are limited edition cookies at my bakery for oscar piastri day!!! first come first serve until sell out! all proceeds go to the australian koala foundation as it was oscar’s personal request 😇

➥ user charitable king shit fr 👑

➥ user FUCK i wish i was rich enough to visit/live in monaco

➥ user don't worry, they're nearly sold out already and the bakery opened three hours ago !!!!

nicolepiastri these were so tasty! i wish i had your baking skills

➥ yninstagram tysm mama piastri !!! i'm blushing

➥ user mama piastri???? im crying

user the koala photo with the bow 😩

➥user what r u talking about?? i only see a picture of oscar with a bow?

➥ user fr i only see oscar 😵‍💫

user "lando helped ig" what did he do? look pretty the entire time you baked LMAO

➥ landonorris actually i was allowed to put the ingredients in the bowls AND preheat the oven too 😤

➥ landonorris and i always look pretty wtf

➥ user omg...yn gave him the toddler tasks 💀💀💀

oscarpiastri the cookies were so good! they nearly tasted better than my first points felt

➥ yninstagram omg high praise from the man himself 🤯

➥ oscarpiastri had to fight my sisters to make sure they didn't only leave me with crumbs

➥ user oh i understand that eldest sibling battle

➥ user my little sisters bite i think they have rabies

➥ user oh what a shame. euthanasia is an option 🤗

miami • 2023

The energy after Miami was rightfully terrible. The car is shit; Lando lost a position from where he qualified to make him P17 and Oscar maintained his P19. It’s hot, and humid, and everyone in the garage is miserable. McLaren is a family. When the boys don’t do good, everybody understands and feels their pain. Nobody likes seeing the boys with frowns on their lips and sadness in their eyes, but it’s becoming a usual appearance during this season. So to turn those frowns upside down, you went on a hunt for some cold treats. You got Lando a frozen lemonade and Oscar an ice cream sandwich—it’s a safe choice, you hadn’t necessarily thought about asking him what kind of ice cream he prefers. 

You found Oscar staring at the wall, eyes focused forward but his mind somewhere else. You tapped him gently on the shoulder, offering him a small smile when he looked at you. He tried to offer you a smile of his own but couldn’t manage to hold it for more than a couple seconds. You presented the ice cream sandwich to him and he looked at you in surprise, as if he couldn’t believe you would give it to him.

“F-for,” his voice cracks awkwardly, “For me?”

You hummed, ruffling his hair and taking a seat on the couch next to him, “No, for the King of England. Yes–for you Oscar.”

He thanked you shyly and quickly began to unwrap the packaging, munching away happily. You took a second to text Lando your location and inform him of the frozen lemonade waiting for him, and when you turned to look back at Oscar—the kid was a mess. He wasn’t even a quarter of the way through the dessert sandwich and you’re convinced he managed to spill more of it than he ingested. The ice cream was painted across the lower half of his face and dripping down his hands–you caught a drop of it with a napkin before it fell and stained his shirt.

“Jesus, Oscar!” you scolded him, “I look away for two seconds and you make a mess!”

Oscar shrugged at you, feigning innocence, but you saw the staple redness of embarrassment begin to tint his chubby cheeks. You snapped your fingers in remembrance before you moved to rifle through your purse, Oscar staring at you with wide eyes as he continued to snack away. You exclaimed in delight, showing off a pair of wet wipes you remembered to bring with you. Oscar accepted the offered wipes and you watched carefully to make sure he removed all the smudges of ice cream from his hands and face.

“Hi, lovely girl,” Lando approached you, throwing himself onto the sofa next to you. He gave you a soft kiss on the lips and temple before grabbing his now lemonade slushy and taking a look at Oscar.

“Woah, mate,” Lando teased, “Did you lose in a fight against the ice cream sandwich?”

Oscar rolled his eyes and ignored Lando as he finished cleaning up. Once he was done, you gathered all of the dirty wipes on the table to be thrown away. You and Lando both watched Oscar as he ate the rest of his snack in fear of another mess occurring—and, then you had a bright idea. Leaning forward, you took a dry napkin and tucked it into the collar of his McLaren polo, creating a makeshift bib. 

“Lando, remind me to get our son ice cream in a cup from now on!”

twitter • may 14th

instagram • landonorris • may 23rd • monte carlo ⚑

liked by, bakewithyn, charlesleclerc, fernandoalonso, and 502,113 others

landonorris: does it still count as a date night if your boy and his best friend are building legos in the next room🤨

tagged bakewithyn, oscarpiastri, logansargeant

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user "your boy" WTF DOES THAT MEAN ‼️‼️‼️

user they're building legos before the race weekend starts 🤧

user has oscar been staying with lando since last week?

➥ user i thought he was just sleeping over for one night 🧐

adamnorris does this make me a grandfather?

➥ user what the hell is happening

➥ landonorris um? surprise haha 😀

bakewithyn it's a great date night! it's comforting knowing ozzy's in the next room over

➥ bakewithyn i have separation anxiety :)

➥ landonorris me too omg this was my best idea ever

➥ user this is like a reverse 13th reason- it's like my 1st reason i'm glad to be alive

➥ user ozzy 🫠

landonorris logan and osc just went silent. chat, should i be worried?

➥ user i'll bet my life savings that one of them has a lego shoved up their nose 😬

➥ user when kids go quiet it's never good !!!!

qatar • 2023

You cried an embarrassing amount of times this weekend. Your son won his first sprint race in his Formula One career, and his father—your boyfriend—was up there on the podium with him to celebrate. It seems like you have to make another special dessert for your bakery to celebrate both of your boys, but you can worry about brainstorming ideas when you stop crying into Andrea Stella’s shoulder in the middle of the pit lane. You’re sure that your face will be posted all over Twitter in a couple of hours.

A part of you wished that Lando had won the sprint race, just as he probably wanted the same thing. But, as both of you made eye contact with each other over Oscar’s head, the Australian rambling endlessly as he hugged his trophy on your hotel room floor, both of you knew that there was no better outcome this weekend than Oscar getting a taste of victory. Lando’s win will come in due time. A P2, P3 finish on Sunday was just the proof everyone needed of McLaren’s improvement and the threat they may pose to Red Bull next year. 

são paulo • 2023

You had the Grand Prix playing on your phone as you did some prep work for the bakery. The race ended and you couldn’t help but feel happy, yet relieved for the race to be over for different reasons. Lando had a wonderful drive today, and Oscar had the opposite; you were just glad it wasn’t a DNF for him.

You had only just begun wiping down the counters when the sound of the post-race show is interrupted by the ringtone you have set for Oscar. You paused quickly, scooping your phone up to answer.

“Hi, Ozzy,” you cooed gently, “How are you feeling? Sorry about your race buddy, that was unfortunate.”

“It happens, I guess. I feel like shit, mostly. Like I let the team down.”

“No way, Oscar! You’re not letting anybody down. Your race result today wasn’t the result of your skills, it was the result of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was a racing incident. If anybody tells you differently, let me know. I’ll rip their vocal cords out.”

Oscar’s laugh crackled through the receiver. “Yes, mum. I’ll let you know. I really want some of your chocolate chip cookies, they’re the perfect bad race remedy.”

“Well, I’m flying out in a few hours to meet you guys in Brazil so I can celebrate Lando’s—sorry, excuse me—your father’s birthday with him. I think there may be some time for me in my schedule to make some cookies with you.”

“Really? We should make some for Lando too! Wait, before you leave, I left his birthday gift—”

“—In our apartment, I remember! I already packed it in my luggage, I wouldn’t forget.”

“You’re the best, seriously.”

“Mhm, I know. Also, we should share some of these cookies with Charles too, his radio message made me cry.”

“Okay, he can have one cookie.”

“Oscar Jack,” you said dryly.

“Yes, sharing is caring or whatever. He can have like...two.”

instagram • bakewithyn • november 13th • las vegas ⚑

liked by, mclaren, landonorris, f1, oscarpiastri and 353,764 others

bakewithyn: happy birthday to lando norris. he's a pretty cool guy, a great dad, and the perfect boyfriend. love you lots, baby, and i'll love you forever xxx

tagged landonorris

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user wait is this a pregnancy announcement 😨

user this is giving engagement reveal

charlesleclerc bro. if i didn't know you guys i would think your caption was serious 😣

➥ bakewithyn get pranked LOL XD

➥ user oh i feel like i just got catfished

➥ user wait so lando didn't propose nor did he put a baby in her 😒

➥ user I WANTED A BABY NORRIS

➥ user oscar exists? he's literally their child

oscarpiastri no fr i thought i was about to learn i had a sibling otw from this post

➥ bakewithyn ozzy we would've told you???

➥ landonorris you literally bought the card for me

➥ oscarpiastri a boy can hope for a younger sibling can he not :(

➥ bakewithyn so close 😚 no you can't! hope that helps xo

➥ landonorris sorry osc, it's your mum's decision 🤷‍♂️

➥ user does this mean lando wants an actual kid

mclaren admin was terrified ngl 😅

➥ mclaren i thought you really posted an engagement and pregnancy reveal without letting me know 😭

➥ landonorris sorry admin, i'll keep you in the loop in the future

➥ user landoyn engagement soon??????

twitter • november 18th • las vegas ⚑

twitter • preseason 2024

miami • 2024

Lando had you pinned to the wall in his driver's room, with his hands tangled in your curls and his mouth devouring yours. Your moans are muffled into his lips as you grind against his thigh. You tried to multitask, struggling to pull his driver’s suit down. Lando lifted you slightly, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist and neither of you cared to pull away at the sound of your foot hitting his P1 trophy and knocking it over. One of his hands fell from your hair to grasp at the smooth brown skin of your neck, his palm acting as a warm weighted choker on your throat and you broke away from the kiss to moan. 

“Fuck, Lando—get naked,” you whined desperately, “we don’t have much time for you to tease me right now!”

Lando laughed as he moved to press kisses along your jawline and behind your ear. You felt his lips part on your skin, his breath ghosting over you causing goosebumps to rise, but it’s not his voice you hear.

“Lando, they need us for pictures—OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK,” yelped Oscar, the sound of his hand smacking over his eyes reverberating around the room.

You shrieked in surprise, pushing your boyfriend away from you as you speedily readjusted your clothes. Lando positioned himself in front of you, his back facing you allowing you a little more privacy as he speedily fixed his suit around his waist.

“Learn how to knock, kid,” Lando huffed, no shame found in his words, “You interrupted my winning celebration.”

You screamed in dismay, slapping the back of Lando’s head and Oscar began to stumble out of the room, bumping into the doorframe as he still covered his eyes.

“Yeah, knock in the future, I understand,” Oscar sounds like he’s about to cry, “I feel like I just saw my mum and dad having sex!”

instagram • bakewithyn • may 12th • mama's house ⚑

liked by oscarpiastri, alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris, and 551,012 others

bakewithyn: LOOK AT MY SON 🥺🥺 PRIDE IS NOT THE WORD IM LOOKING FOR 🗣️🗣️🔊🔊 (happy mother's day to all the beautiful mamas x)

tagged oscarpiastri

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oscarpiastri did dad get you anything 🙃

➥ user 👀👀👀

➥ landonorris well i would've if SOMEBODY told me we were celebrating this year 🤬🤬🤬🤬

➥ oscarpiastri i didn't know i *had* to tell you

➥ user wowwwww lando

➥ user shameful honestly 😕

markwebber happy milf day

➥ markwebber *mother's day sorry typo

➥ bakewithyn what the fuck ☠️☠️☠️

➥ user that was not a typo mark

➥ user sir u are not slick LMAO

➥ bakewithyn i mean...oscar wouldn't mind a step dad, his fatther didn't get me anything today :(

➥ landonorris AYO BABY PLEASE 🧎‍♂️

oscarpiastri you know what would be an even better mother's day gift? getting a puppy 🤭

➥ bakewithyn we are not getting a puppy ozzy.

➥ landonorris should've clued me in osc i might've convinced her for you

➥ oscarpiastri :[

monaco • 2024

You’re about to crash THE FUCK out. At first, it was a little half-joke. Oscar’s home race in Australia, his 1/16th home race in China, and his 3/16th home race in Italy. You originally thought his tweet about “searching for his Monegasque roots” was cute, but you didn’t expect Charles Marc Herve Perceval (Demon Spawn) Leclerc to step into your playing field.

Who the hell does he think he is? Offering to adopt your son? And, Oscar is going along with it? And, the Miami Grand Prix account making a “Certificate of Adoption?” You started to like Miami after Lando won there; and now they’ve betrayed you. Every fan jumped on the bandwagon, thinking that this was the most adorable thing to happen. Like Oscar hasn’t been your child the minute he stepped foot into the MTC in Silverstone. Like he didn’t give you a Mother’s Day present? The Monegasques have some nerve; you were close with Charles and Alex but, now they’ve encroached on your and Lando’s territory. You’re committing several murders today. 

You laughed hysterically when Oscar joined Lando and you for lunch, mentioning that Charles and Alex invited him to eat with the rest of the Leclercs at family dinner after qualifying. You agreed to let him but not without making sure Charles and Alex are qualified for the job. Lando also cornered you in the kitchen and persuaded you to allow Oscar to go; swaying you with the idea of a real date night. You never realized just how much time you guys spend with your son. When’s the last time you guys had a break from being “mum and dad?" It was an appealing offer, but you were serious about clarifying expectations to the thieving couple.

twitter • may 25th • monaco

instagram • bakewithyn • may 25th • date night ⚑

liked by charlesleclerc, landonorris, nicolepiastri and 236,978 others

bakewithyn: a little night off from parenting was needed x

tagged landonorris

view comments

user okay mamiiiii

user all parents deserve to relax !!!

oscarpiastri do you even miss me ☹️

➥ user damn he goin through it

➥ charlesleclerc i literally just got him to smile and now he's crying again 😒

➥ landonorris your mum and i love you lots osc

➥ oscarpiastri :]

alexandrasaintmleux take full advantage of having no children in the house 😈😈😈

➥ charlesleclerc leo will keep him distracted for as longggg as possible 😏

➥ user lando only needs about three minutes 🥱

➥ user wow that's a really long time fr

oscarpiastri mama y papa

➥ user mama y papa

➥ user mama y papa

➥ user mama y papa

instagram • landonorris • june 16th • daddy's home ⚑

liked by oscarpiastri, angryginge, bakewithyn and 436,812 others

landonorris: father's day done right. my child and his mother made a cake for me, family photo slide two, and my son slide three. what more can a man want.

tagged bakewithyn and oscarpiastri

view comments

user this man never misses a chance to call himself daddy

user too fucking funny 🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️

bakewithyn happy father's day, daddy xxx

➥ user OHMYGOD 😖🤢🤮

➥ user on my internet⁉️⁉️⁉️

➥ landonorris even happier now x

user this new wave of parents concerns me...

oscarpiastri the cake was good wasn't it???

➥ landonorris it was perfect, seriously

➥ oscarpiastri i know you both said there's no way we'd get a puppy but hear me out i've thought of something better

➥ oscarpiastri working on giving me a younger sibling :]

➥ user YES BABY NORRIS ‼️‼️‼️

➥ landonorris @/bakewithyn ?

➥ bakewithyn ask me again in a couple of years

© httpsserene2024

[sleepy-grav3]

Amity Park hates the Justice League but loves Red Hood and sometimes other heroes

A/n: I got this random idea so here it is. Oh, and this is good reveal AU ok?

-------

Due to the Justice League mocking them and ignoring their villain problems that were also publicly interdimensional problems, everyone hates the JL. It got worst with the GIW coming in, who blatantly went against the meta-laws (which included aliens, demons and so much more that weren't human from the beginning). They started to think the Justice League supported them.

In the Infinite Realms, however, there's a revenant that many adored and others respected. He did not hold back against criminals. Criminals that would rape, kill, traffic, sell drugs, and more to people. He especially didn't like when they brought kids into this. He'd avenge people the way they should've been: by promising that their abuser/killer/whatever wouldn't be able to do it again. And in the place they lived in, the only way for that to be possible was by major injury, heavy social outcasting, and/or death. Most prefer the 3rd.

And after how long the Amitians dealt with the attacks which eventually came to a slow once or twice a week type thing, they started opening their minds to the idea of coexistence. Well, further than they had. So when people started to cross over and start making their small haunts in their side of the veil, the Amitian's began to become aware of the popular hero Red Hood. He was part of the undead community, which was trustworthy in everyone's books.

So Amity Park started making merch. Most of it was for Team Phantom, but there was plenty for Red Hood as well. There were other heroes on the side, like for Superboy 1 (who they renamed to Supernova due to their hatred for Superman for 2 reasons, the obvious and that he rejected a mirror-born), and Raven (the half demon).

And with this coexistence, Team Phantom had noticed the positive feedback about killing in the name of vengeance. So they went on the offensive, and after a good year of that, the GIW lost funding for producing no results and just taking up resources. The acts were still there, but nobody enacted them in Amity, and nobody actually knew or believed them outside of the haunted city.

Then the Justice League find out about the hero group there due to tracking merchandise after they started to sell outside of the city. Superman was the guy everyone liked, so he was sent over. He immediately got thrown out and was now questioning who the heck Supernova was and when he rejected him.

Flash? Outcast. Everyone ignored and walked away from him. they had the police, who never did anything or even had to anymore, kick him out.

Green Lanter? Oh the poor guy. He had his ring taken away and thrown out of the city somehow. It took hours to find it.

Wonder Woman, they had to be ok with her. Not at first, but once Phantom had a talk with her and people learned that they were cousins through Clockwork (Kronos) and Pandora, they were ok. ish. Tolerated was the best word and she got the info back to the league.

The batfamily took a trip there, dragging Red Hood along somehow. And right when Red Hood was noticed, a crowd began to form as everyone practically worshipped him. There were many victims he had avenged and an Ancient (Lady Gotham) came and gave him the gifts she couldn't without scaring the guy.

At one point, the poor guy even cried.

[thef1diary]

Baby Jr | One

— Friendly Banter

Series summary: The teasing, fleeting touches became much more on the night Carlos won, the sexual tension between you two reached a breaking point. Perhaps it was that night, or the many nights that followed, but you were pregnant with his child, putting you in a difficult situation.

Series Masterlist

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work.

pairing: carlos sainz x reader

Warnings: allusions to smut but no actual smut yet

wc: 2.9k

Note: here it is, the first chapter of many more to come. lemme know what you think, feedback is always appreciated.

You had caught the eye of a certain Ferrari driver from the moment you joined the team. He always looked at you in fascination, having the urge to find a way to figure you out but that's all it was for the longest time. Until it wasn't.

Carlos Sainz vividly remembers the first time he set his eyes on you. He was on his way to leave the headquarters in Maranello while you were on your way inside. Carlos' gaze was watchful, almost heavy with judgment as you hurried in through the doors with more items in your arms than you should've been able to carry.

He almost stopped you to ask who you were, but he noticed the badge clipped onto your jeans, media personnel. You had already passed him before he could read your name, and shook his head knowing that your name was the more important detail compared to your role.

You hadn't noticed him that day, but he noticed you.

He didn't see you again until the new season came around, having almost forgotten about your brief encounter at the end of the previous year. He had to do a double take once he saw you setting up the cameras for some content he was supposed to record along with his teammate.

It was a simple video that required the drivers to answer a few questions sent in by their fans, something that should've been easy since they've done it before. But he couldn't focus on anything but you. Given that you were the ones asking the questions, reading them off the short stack of cards you had in your hand, he wasn't outed for being distracted.

Knowing the drivers still had a busy day ahead of them, you began packing up the items once the video was filmed. Keeping your eyes locked on the task, you expected the drivers to be led away by their PR managers, so you were surely startled once you heard a voice acknowledging you.

Carlos stayed back, and roaming your gaze for a split second behind him, Charles had left. You knew who he was of course, after all you followed the sport for many years before you were given the opportunity to work for one of the teams.

"I don't think we properly met, I'm Carlos." He extended his hand out and you gladly accepted, shaking it while introducing yourself. You found it sweet that despite being one of the two faces of the team, he still introduced himself like you didn't know who he was.

As a junior media employee who was still relatively new to the team, you were informed in advance that you would rarely be interacting with the drivers.

So it wasn't surprising that while working in the same team, you rarely saw Carlos in person. Working under Silvia—the head of communications—you would usually be the one tasked to edit the challenge videos, creating enough content from various footage to keep the fans engaged. The few times you did see him in person was to conduct media challenges that the team planned every once in a while to give the fans a chance to know the drivers underneath their helmets.

As the season went on, you found that you were indeed given the wrong information; you did in fact meet the drivers again and again. You were given many opportunities to travel with the team, and it would've been absurd if you denied those opportunities—not that you had a choice since you were needed at almost every race.

You were glad to experience the thrill of Formula 1 from the front row seats, able to watch all the sessions in the weekend itself but also be a part of the journey with the drivers that not many people get to see.

It was inevitable to befriend many people along the way, especially with their welcoming nature despite some news outlets suggesting otherwise. Formula 1 could be considered as one giant family that obviously had issues every once in a while but no one outside of the sport could relate to them like each other. Especially since it was described like a traveling circus by a few drivers.

While you had befriended many other employees whether it was within your team or others, you also spoke to the other eighteen drivers often.

But no other driver invaded your thoughts like Carlos did.

You didn't know if you were overthinking it all, but you believed that Carlos was a tad bit too friendly compared to Charles or even any other driver for that matter.

Whether it was a compliment that left you a blushing mess, a lingering look that followed you until you left the room, or even a small graze of his fingers against your back while crossing your path, you couldn't think of anyone but him lately.

You heard a Monégasque accent calling your name and you slowed your pace, allowing him to catch up to you as you greeted without needing to look to see who it was, "Charles"

"Here, it's still hot," he was holding two disposable cups of coffee in his hands, extending one towards you.

You gestured to your own hands, carrying one too many things again.

He sighed, "I still don't know how you do that." He stopped walking as he neared a surface to put down the cups. "Here, give it to me," he spoke but didn't let you make a decision as he grabbed the various folders, a clipboard, and a tablet from your hands. You were still holding on to a tripod and a camera but he freed up one of your hands so you could hold the cup.

"I will have to let you know, that tablet you're holding, is very valuable to the team," you stated, mainly in a joking manner because you knew he wouldn't do anything to it.

"Oh is it now? What's on it?" Charles asked once you resumed walking, this time sipping on your coffee before answering his question. "First, perfect," you hummed, gesturing towards the cup. "Second, it has all the schedules for meetings, interviews, and everything that you or Carlos could possibly need a reminder for during the weekend."

He gasped, almost offended, "I do not need reminders for anything during the weekend, not like Carlos does."

Despite how it may seem, your role didn't entail being a driver's assistant. In fact your job was to manage a few social media accounts and create content that included the drivers as much as possible but every now and then you also helped the company keep the public images of the drivers reputable.

Lately, Carlos had been finding reasons to talk to you, and most of that time would be spent reviewing his schedule multiple times throughout the day.

"He can be a little forgetful sometimes," you commented but Charles shook his head.

"A little? He needed you to remind him what time the race was."

You grimaced, knowing Charles was correct. "Well, you're his teammate so you know him better than I do."

"Yeah, I guess I'll ask him, thanks for the coffee," Charles stated as you two entered a meeting room. There were still fifteen minutes before it started, but you preferred to use that time so you could prepare yourself for all the notetaking it usually required. Since you were still a fairly new employee, you wanted to absorb all the information like a sponge.

Confused, you responded back, "you're the one who got the coffee."

He placed the items he was holding on the table, then noticing the time on his watch, a brief gasp overtaking his expression. "Thanks for the company then, I'll see you later," he playfully winked like he always did before leaving the room.

Moments later, a knock distracts you from reviewing the previous notes and stats from the last meeting. Thinking it was Charles, you ask, "did you forget somet- oh, Carlos."

"Are you busy?" He asks as he leans his forearms on the back of a chair. Shaking your head you respond, "not really, what's up?"

"I forget how crazy the crowds can get outside, so can I stay here for a few minutes?" You smile, "of course you can, come sit." He rolled a chair out and sighed in relief after finally getting off his feet.

Carlos closed his eyes for a moment relishing in the moments of silence in his hectic life. It didn't last long as you hummed a random tune which you usually did while working. It was so faint but since it was completely silent otherwise, Carlos' ears perked up as he heard it.

Instead of looking for the moments of silence he thought he needed earlier to even do a simple task as breathing, Carlos leaned forward with his usual watchful gaze focused on you. "Are you planning on more ways for us to make a fool out of ourselves?" He asked.

You chuckled, "I would never do that." Carlos gave you a look that indicated he didn't believe you.

"The last challenge was planned by you, no?" He countered and when you sheepishly smiled, he knew he was correct.

"You know, Charles is right," you spoke after a few moments of silence.

"How so?" He leaned back, stretching his arms above his head for a moment that almost caused you to lose track of your thoughts. You've gotten better at keeping yourself calm and collected around Carlos lately, but you still took a little moment to appreciate how his muscles flexed in the full sleeved shirt he wore.

"There's a team debrief happening in about five minutes where you're needed, and it's a bit of a walk so I'm wondering if you're gonna reach in time." To confirm your words, he glanced at his watch, raising his eyebrows when he realized you were spot on.

"You know my schedule so well now," he couldn't help but comment, chuckling as he did so.

"Only because you forget it," you retaliated.

"Maybe I do that on purpose," he stood up, once again stretching to the point where the hem of his shirt raised a bit, revealing a sliver of skin that your gaze immediately shifted to. While you might've gotten better, you still needed a bit more practice every now and then. Carlos chuckled when you didn't have a response right away, knowing you were distracted but he didn't feel the need to expose you just yet.

As he pulled his shirt down, your eyes snapped to his, finally coming up with a response "and almost get me fired for making you late?"

He shrugged, "maybe." You knew he would never do such a thing that would jeopardize your job, so you shrugged off his comment.

"Go now, Sainz" you urged, waving your hand to emphasize your point.

"I'm going, I'm going, relax, cariño." You could hear his laugh as he left the room, and you didn't focus on the papers in front of you until his footsteps had faded away.

It was just friendly banter, you reminded yourself even after hearing the nickname he gave you. Sometimes your conversations were borderline flirtatious, but it was still fine. Until it wasn't.

As the year progressed further, you were no longer just an employee with a career in motorsport; you were a member of the team that celebrated each high while consoling and sticking together during the lows.

While your job wasn't directly connected to the race, nor could you help in changing the outcome like the mechanics and engineers could, you helped uplift the mood in the room on multiple occasions.

Which is why when Carlos stood on the top step of the podium, claiming his first place trophy that would eventually become a part of a larger collection, you felt like you won.

The spray of champagne reached the crowd of his team waiting below the podium. A laugh bubbled up your throat as Carlos tried to aim the spill of the drink in the team principal's mouth standing on the floor a few feet away from you.

A proud smile grew on your face as you watched the drivers and a representative from your team that collected the constructors trophy gathered together on the top step to take a photo.

The celebrations continued in the team garage, since both drivers made it on the podium. The energy buzzing through each member was noticeable, knowing that this win would be celebrated until the next. After the team photo was taken, the champagne popped once again.

A few people were able to get away from becoming soaked, others were being targeted. Charles managed to slip away, but Carlos couldn't. He happily accepted the spray, soaking his race suit further after the podium.

His eyes however, darted across the crowd and landed on you. Standing just out of reach of the champagne shenanigans but still close enough to celebrate, Carlos decided to pull you even closer.

Grabbing the bottle from the nearest person, he covered the top and shook it. Releasing his thumb, he let the fizzy drink spray out, directing it at you this time. "Carlos!" You shrieked, but laughing nonetheless.

Once satisfied, he took a sip from the bottle, his gaze fixed on you as yours moved down to his neck, watching his Adam's apple bob while he swallowed. Passing the bottle to you, you moistened your lips before tipping it up and sipping the cool champagne.

His attention was diverted as Charles had found another bottle of champagne, deciding to drench his teammate even further after the celebrations began to die down. You smiled as Carlos tried to run away, dodging the alcohol, but it quickly dropped once he used you as a shield.

"Oh, no, no, no," you held your hand out at Charles who smiled mischievously, stopping in his tracks right in front of you.

"You are a part of the team," he commented, and you almost ignored his words as you felt Carlos' hands rest on your waist from behind, feeling his breath on your neck.

The heat of your thoughts was ruined when Charles decided to rain champagne down on you, cooling you off instantly. "Charles," you groaned, knowing that it would be an excruciatingly long process to wash all the champagne out of your hair, especially if it began to dry soon.

The team began to disperse, rightfully so as everyone wanted to change out of their champagne soaked clothes, you included. Trying to wring out as much liquid as you could, you muttered a curse under your breath. This was the first time you ever experienced a win like today.

Speaking of, the winner of the race was standing off to the side, shirtless. Carlos had removed his fireproof top but still had his race suit zipped down to his waist and placed a cap on his head backwards to keep his hair out of his face.

You parted your lips and watched his back muscles flex as he moved around, then hastily looked away as he turned. You kept wringing your shirt as he moved past you, and despite the fact that there was enough space for him to pass you without touching you, his fingertips brushed over your back, down to your waist. He lingered on your hip for too long, but he didn't say anything, only smiled when you inhaled deeply.

You had returned to your hotel room and immediately rushed towards the shower. The champagne from earlier had dried, creating an unpleasant sensation as a layer of tackiness remained behind. Washing away all the sweat and champagne, you sighed in relief, standing underneath the shower for a few extra minutes to release all the soreness in your muscles.

You still felt the buzzing excitement of the day running through your veins as you dried and dressed yourself, but you were also exhausted, ready to climb into bed and drift away into the safety of your dreams.

That plan was interrupted as you heard a knock on the door. Pulling your shirt over your body, you peeked through the peephole, smiling when you saw him standing on the other side.

"Oh hello, don't tell me you forgot your room number," you greeted Carlos as you opened the door.

Wetting his lips with his tongue, he was transfixed by the sight of your hair, still wet from your shower, dripping down to your shirt beginning to cling to your body.

"I think I did, tell me you don't remember it either," his voice dropped an octave, and his stare was no longer calculating, but rather enticingly seductive.

"And why would I do that?" You almost whispered, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from him.

He stepped forward, leaning one arm on the doorframe while his gaze glanced over you to briefly look inside the room. "I'm sure yours is big enough for two people."

The corner of your lip turned up at his words, knowing it was just a ploy to let him in. The realization that he desired you just as much as you had grown to want him dawned on you as you stared at him standing in front of you.

Trapping your lip between your teeth for a moment, instantly attracting Carlos' gaze towards them, you nodded.

"Let's check," you stepped back, pulling him inside by the collar of his shirt.

——

Taglist is open!! Lmk if you wanna be added or removed <3

@xoscar03 @pierregazly @rowena-ravenclaws-diadem @lilymurphy03 @gay-hoes-blog @ilovethefruits @lewlew44 @luvvtrent @hc-dutch @fwhore1 @khaylin27 @lillyssh-tposts @thatgirlmj @ladyoflynx @tcfanmania @customsbyjcg-blog @sltwins @nonstopbookworm @glitterquadricorn @charizznorizz @mrs-bunny @moonliightbabes @likedbygaslyy @booksandflowrs @teamnovalak @formula1mount @gaviymarcsbride @gotthemilk-69 @bwormie @llando4norris @ellesssssxzxz @arian-directioner @lou-bean28 @depressedgiftedburnout @halleest @amberpanda99 @borapsycho @cosmoscoffeee @mycenterfold @67-angelofthelordme-67 @sugarvibez @mehrmonga @aadu2173 @bokutos-babyowl @teenwolf01 @presidentdangdang @mrswolffs-blog @khaylin27 @amyfelix14 @seasonswinter @amalialeclerc @amandadesantasworld @ystrolllll @xisab @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @pedrohoe04 @yagirlhayes @teamnovalak @jadaaasworld @mmack23 @shimmermotorsport

[stonebutchery]

it's kind of baffling to me that entire sub-groups of queer folks endured a decade of being singled out and targeted for being asexual, aromantic, bisexual, pansexual, nonbinary, polyamorous, etc. and i have yet to see any substantial apologies from people who were directly responsible for causing genuine harm. i find it completely bizarre that there are so many people who want to sweep their past contributions to widespread lateral aggression toward specific queer groups under the rug like it didn't happen so they can wash their hands of it... there are people who are irreversibly traumatized because of this. there are people who took their lives because of it.

i'm wording the post like despite the fact that exclusionism targeting these groups (and more) continues to persist partly because it was a really frighteningly common trend to harass people just because they were ace, aro, bi, pan, nonbinary, poly, etc... and it's crazy to me that many of the people who were affected by this massive multi-pronged public online bullying campaign against the 'unacceptable types of queers' are the ones still receiving messages like "my url got put on an aphobe blocklist in 2016 because apparently a post i made making fun of asexuals got some teenage asexuals harassed and i still distrust asexuals to this day because of that" ...are you fucking kidding me?

we will never achieve any kind of unity as a queer community while we are insisting upon ignoring the hurt that lateral aggression has caused, and acting like the burden lies on the shoulders of the people who were harmed to forgive the people who harmed them and 'just move on', many of whom are not sorry for what they did! or they don't consider what they did to be wrong! how is that not deeply disturbing and troubling to more of you?

03/06/2024 edit: i’m putting a complete moratorium on this post because i am really sick and tired of having my point not only completely misconstrued and distorted entirely but also weaponized against transfems (particularly in replies i have decided to delete about how “ugh yes, exclusionism, and now transfems are bullying transmascs”) i find that really sickening and i’m demanding that it stop, and i can make it stop by turning off reblogs. so i have.

my objective in writing this post was never to request an apology from people who have been laterally-aggressive exclusionists in the past. i don’t think we’ll ever get more than a handful of apologies from those people, anyway. my point was that it was pretty terrifying to witness and experience a lot of lateral aggression that transferred from the real, in-person world to the deeply online spaces back into the real, in-person world in a really fucked up feedback loop and being a young queer person during this time and having that shape me, snd shape the experiences of my queer friends who have been traumatized by it.

however, it is absolutely unacceptable to me that the issue of transmisogyny is so blatantly overlooked by our entire community. for decades, transfems have experienced oppression and exclusion from transmisogyny-exempt women and queers. their exclusion from political queer liberation movements has caused many of the major schisms within our community we are still having arguments about to this day. if you want collective queer liberation, you must uplift transfems. there is no other option. you don’t get to write off all transfems just because one person who happened to be transfem was mean to you online or something.

i have answered and responded to way too many conspiracy-brained transmisogynist reactionaries to allow this post to keep fucking snowballing with people writing paragraphs in the tags about “transmisandry” or “transandrophobia.” please get your heads out of your asses.

this absolutely is the transmisogyny website, as always, and the place where all basic textual comprehension skills go to die, apparently.

[ickie]

♡ … TIO \ MV1 & CL16  …

pairing … max verstappen x reader x charles leclerc summary … you, max, n charles all get freaky... it really is just porn w no plot i cannot lie ... 1500+ words warnings … nsfw !!!!! pls only read if you're 18+. oral (m recieving), light spanking, dom/sub undertones, max gets off on others people pleasure hehe notes … this shit is so far from being proofread i am so sorry y'all... i feel like this is some of the worst smut i've ever written lowkey but it's okay, i just wanted to put out something that wasn't the story of us related ! as always, feedback is greatly appreciated & fill out this form to be added to my taglist ! much love <3

your hips swayed against the body behind you, sweat beading along your hairline as you moved to the beat of the song. head tilting onto the shoulder behind you, you placed a chaste kiss to charles’ jawline, grinning as his hands gripped your hips tighter, pulling you more firmly against him. your eyes shut as you let him move your body, a wide smile taking over your features as you got lost in the pull that charles seemed to have on you.

as your eyes opened, they met ones with a piercing shade of blue holding something in them that you couldn’t quite read. “he’s looking, charlie.” you giggled, hoping the brunette was able to hear you over the sound of the music.

charles’ head tilted up, making eye contact with his rival turned friend, one of his eyebrows quirking up as they stared each other down. you watched the exchange, feeling the adrenaline begin to pool in the pit of your stomach. max stood up at the bar, swiftly moving himself between the sea of bodies that separated him from you and charles.

“hi, maxie…” you grinned as he finally made his way to the two of you, his expression remaining unreadable. “i missed you.” you hummed, your arms making their way over his shoulders as you pulled him closer, sandwiching yourself between the two males.

“is that so?” he wasn’t looking at you, his eyes locked on charles as they seemed to communicate without even speaking.

you hummed, pushing up on your tiptoes so you could place a kiss to the corner of his mouth, giggling as you finally got his attention on you. max moved out of your grasp while charles pulled away from you, causing a pout to take over your glossed lips. “i think it’s time to leave,” the monegasque said, one of his hands finding its way to the small of your back to push you along.

“i don’t want to-” you started, eyebrows furrowing before you saw the look the two were giving you, knowing that the three of you leaving wasn’t up for debate. you huffed before crossing your arms over your chest, eyes rolling as you moved with the two of them.

the car ride to charles’s apartment was tense, you have been delegated to the back seat as the two men sat in the front, barely acting like they knew you were there. but the moment the three of you were alone, it was a completely different scene.

before charles had even been able to shut the door, max pushed you up against the wall in the foyer, plush lips finding their home in your mouth. kissing max was addicting, the way he took the lead with one of his hands threaded in your hair to keep you where he wanted you – he kissed like it was the last thing he was going to do, and it kept you craving more. his free hand trailed to your ass, kneading the flesh in his hand as you gasped into the kiss. max pulled away, nipping at your bottom lip as he did.

your eyes met the dark green of charles’, clearly not having any complaints about watching the show that you and max had just happily put on for him. “bedroom?” it was a simple question, but you quickly obliged. you didn’t miss the way charles pulled max in for a quick kiss, causing you cheeks to heat up even more than they already were.

inside the bedroom, charles couldn’t keep his hands off of you. “let’s get this dress of, mon ange.” he hummed as he kissed down your neck, deft fingers pulling at the zipper of your dress. max helped push it down your shoulders, the fabric pooling at your feet.

you grinned as the two men looked at your naked body, trying to suppress a giggle at the fact that you hadn’t been wearing any undergarments at all. “mon ange…” charles groaned, his head tilting back.

“dirty, dirty girl.” max shook his head, pushing you towards the bed while your cheeks flamed with heat.

with where you were on the bed, you got a prime seat watching the way charles and max worked together. their lips were entangled in a deep kiss, max’s hands working the buttons of charles’ shirt while charles palmed max through his jeans. you bit at your bottom lip, not wanting to interrupt what the two of them had going on.

the two parted so they could rid themselves of the rest of their clothes before beginning their descent on you. max pulled you towards the end of the bed, causing you to let out a little squeal. “on your hands and knees, schatz.” you followed the command with no pushback, your head towards to foot of the bed.

charles stepped in front of you, his hand working slowly over his dick before he tapped the tip against your lips. your lip parted, your eyes on his as he pushed his way into your mouth. at the same time, max moved onto the bed behind you before he landed a hard smack against one of your ass cheeks, causing you to jerk into charles’ dick.

a groan came from charles, his hand threading into your hair. he wasn’t pushing you, but the pressure of his hand was a nice presence to have. one of max’s fingers trailed down from the curve of your ass to your pussy, barely letting his finger ghost over your entrance before he came down on your clit, rubbing circles on the bundle of nerves.

you moaned onto charles causing him to buck forward, you pulled away with a gasp, tears pooling in your eyes as you looked up at him. “you’re doing so well for us, mon ange… always such a good girl, aren’t you?” one of his hands caressed your jaw before he stepped away, causing you to whine at the loss of contact.

you felt the bed dip, your head turning behind you to look. charles was slotting himself behind you, two of his fingers spreading along your pussy. he groaned at the wetness that was gathered there, lifting his fingers up towards max who willingly took them in his mouth, sucking all of your wetness off of charles’ fingers. “always taste so good…” the dutchman groaned, one of his hands resting against the curve of your ass.

charles grabbed at your hips, pulling you towards the head of the bed so there was room for max to sit in front of you. “please, charlie… need you so bad,” you whined as he ran the tip of his dick along your folds, before he slowly pushed in.

your head hung between your shoulders, moaning at the stretch of him finally entering you. he moved slowly, letting you adjust the size of him before he fully bottomed out. a gasp passed your lips as you felt his hands grab at your stomach, pushing your body up so your back was to his chest – baring your front for max. the blonde’s lips were on yours almost instantly, charles’ fingers tweaking at your nipples while you and max continued to make out. he was breathing in all the moans and gasps you were letting out before he trailed the kisses down to your neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive flesh. you were almost positive you were going to have marks by the morning.

you took one of your shaking hands, spitting into your palm before you took max in your hand working your palm over the tip of his dick and then beginning to move your hand with the speed of charles’ thrusts. “i want you to feel good, too…” you gasped; your head knocking back against charles’ shoulder.

max groaned into the curve where your shoulder and neck met, his hips meeting your hand as your eyes screwed shut. “’m close, i’m going to-” your words were cut short by the feeling of fingers pressing circles over your clit, the feeling of tightness erupting in your belly as you let out a gasp, body trembling with the force of your orgasm.

charles quickly pulled out, as you felt the warmth of his cum spread across your lower back and ass while max came across your chest. since charles was no longer holding you up, you slumped forward against max, your head resting against his shoulder as you took in a couple of deep breaths, body still shaking with the aftereffects of your orgasm.

you could faintly feel charles move, hearing the ensuite light turning on and the sound of a sink running. he came back with a wet rag, wiping it along your back before him and max moved you to lay on your back. max wiped at your chest, pressing a light kiss to your lips as your eyes fluttered shut.

“you did so good for us, liefje.” max murmured, moving your body so your head was resting against a pillow.

“max… if you don’t come and cuddle me right now,” you grumbled, smiling as you felt his body slot itself behind you.

charles came back into the room – when he left, you weren’t quite too sure – with a couple glasses of water before mumbling something about hating being the little spoon. a quiet giggle came from you before he entered the bed, your arm wrapping itself around his middle and pulling him closer. as you pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, you mumbled a quiet i love you, before doing the same with max – his kiss being put to his knuckles.

[neil-gaiman]

hey mr gaiman. i saw that this post got revisited and wanted to address it.

i submitted this ask over a year ago on my old account and it was one of the stupidest things i ever did. it was my first tumblr account. id only been really online for a few weeks. i was 13. i was just coming back to school after a global pandemic.

ive been a fan of good omens for years and a fan of yours for longer. i was brought up reading odd and the frost giants and fortunately the milk, and as i got older i fell in love with your norse mythology book, good omens, snow glass apples, the sleeper and the spindle, and more.

i was excited to see one of my favorite authors on tumblr and tried to come up with the most bold and interesting ask i could think of.

i was rude and misinformed and it was a stupid choice of me to send it in with no thought.

but i got feedback. some in the form of kind suggestions. quite a few in the form of death threats and people telling me to kill myself.

while those specific messages were rude and hateful, the point got across. i educated myself to the best of my abilities, and eventually came back online.

not only did i misuse the term queerbaiting but i also implied that you were not an amazing supporter of the queer community. that’s absolutely incorrect. you’ve done so much for us with activism, representation, and overall kindness.

i wanted to address this ask that got so much attention because despite moving accounts i still feel guilt and shame every time i see it, or even when i interact with any of your posts at all. i need to actually address it.

also, i wanted a proper apology to be made. by no means am i now a saint. but im trying to be more thoughtful about thinking before i speak.

whether or not you decide to make a public response to this, i think ill find some peace knowing you’ve received this. ive needed closure on this for a long time.

im overjoyed and thrilled that season two is so close. thank you for tolerating the dumb questions of pretentious kids and thank you for helping to create a world where we can grow to be better than we were.

First of all, and most importantly, I'm really sorry that people were mean to you. That's awful. And nobody should ever have to deal with death threats or online threats and attacks, let alone a thirteen year old.

And secondly, you do not owe me an apology. I figure I have a Tumblr account, people ask things. Mostly they'll get nice replies, occasionally (normally when I'm being asked the same thing over and over) the replies will be terser. There has to be a certain amount of rough and tumble though, and occasionally I'll grab an ask that represents all of the asks I've had on that subject, and try and reply to all of them. That's what happened to you. I was getting tired of being accused of Queerbaiting for the occasional answer about a Season that was not yet released and about which nobody knew anything. And I needed to tell everyone who was doing this that they had to stop now. You had the misfortune to be the representative of all of the other people.

If you are not making mistakes you are not human and you are not learning anything.

(I wish there was tone of voice on the internet.)

And I think you are growing and learning and will make a fantastic adult.

I really hope you enjoy Season 2 when it drops.

[hhie]

i love you im sorry💡

idol!haechan x dancer!reader

genre : exes to lovers , bff to lovers (kinda)

idol au , fluff & angst

warning : alcohol, profanity, nsfw , lots of insensitive/mean jokes , age gap (4 years), haechan is a little obsessed with her, ~ more to be added

pls note that / characters actions and behaviour are not associated to them in real life / pictures are from pinterest/ this is purely fictional !!!

synopsis : 2 years ago , you and your best friend fell in love with one another. Only for him to leave you and cut you off with no explanation. What if , 2 years later, you decided to take a big step into your career, thinking that it is the best decision you’ve made in your life.

Unaware of what’s going to happen … you should be fine right?

from me: hello! this is my first ever smau and au i hope you are as excited as i am. I can’t wait to share with you my work!! pls feel free to let me know if l need any improvements. Feedbacks are appreciated, i will try my best to commit to this and finish it up without abandoning it. So please be patient with me , love you guys!

taglist OPEN! - @junviadinho @injunnie-lemon @sunghoonsgfreal @nessaassen02 @dudekiss3r @munstvrs @sthwaaberry @nmlee @ourbeautifulaffair @chenlesfeetpic @jaeminnanaaa17 @roseangelxfuma @fullsunahceah @taeeflwrr @chan-yeoldelling @anglswon @yyangj3lly @thegracerammy

(dm/ comment to be added)

status | ongoing ~ est 35 chapters

updates: every weekend (or spontaneously …)

MASTERLIST

haechan & bros | y/n’s community

1. that’s just the way life goes

2. approval !!!

3. am i nervous or am i just excited

4. WHAT??

5. step up your game

6. he’s trying

7. awkward…

8. drunk af

9. am i dreaming rn??

10. baby steps

11. HOW DID THEY FIND ME?

12. dinner AGAIN

13. a lil tipsy

14. complicated

15. fucked up ALOT

16. love therapist or something

17. uhoh

18. first round

extras : 🎥

PAST | PRESENT | LIVING WITH YOU

[safetypinxtales]

Together with you | Azriel

(Lonely with you pt. 2)

summary: heart break sucks. Missing your friend sucks even more. It is mind-blowing what a little open communication can do.

words: 4.1k

warnings: angst with happy ending, terrible communication at parts (sorry), mention of alcohol consumption, fluff, just general misery, neutrally described reader/no reader description, no use of y/n, dumb idiots in love

notes: so this got a lot more angsty than first anticipated, but here it is! Not sure how I feel about it, I like some parts, not so sure about others - feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!

part 1

Cold. Your bed was freezing cold. And empty. 

Like lying on a frozen slab of stone, utterly alone and undeniably pathetic. Just as alone and pathetic as yesterday, when you woke up on the couch in the living room. No Azriel in sight. Like he wasn’t the one to practically beg you not to leave him alone, and then he went and did that exact thing to you. 

It was humiliating. You were humiliated.

And that was why you had avoided him like he was contagious for all of yesterday, burying yourself in paperwork or hiding away in the library. But your plan was far from foolproof, you’d barely made it through yesterday without seeing him, so today had to be different. If being close to you was so shameful he had to sneak away before you had a chance to wake, you would simply remove yourself from the situation and spare yourself some Gods damned dignity. 

You had already written to Mor, your excuse of needing to get away from the happily mated couple for a few nights only a half lie. You were in desperate need of a good night’s rest, however that was not the most pressing issue at hand. But there was no need for her to know that. Yet. She would find out eventually, she always did, and you would be stupid to expect otherwise. 

Two hours past sunrise should mean that the Valkyrie training would be full and well underway, and thus it would be safe for you to make your escape. You got the things you’d need and made your way up the stairs to one of the smaller balconies overlooking the training ring. You knew you really shouldn’t, because what good would it do? But you had to. Just a quick glance. Quietly you moved towards the railing, scanning the people below. 

There he was, a thing of graceful, terrifying beauty. He seemed to be demonstrating a movement with a training sword for some of the priestesses. He moved with such fluidity, wielding the sword in his hand as if it was an extension of himself. He was like death on swift feet. A fallen angel, a dark prince. 

He was beautiful.

You must have accidentally made a sound, because his head shot up and his eyes zeroed in on you. Oh Gods. The intensity in his gaze, and the increasing pressure in your chest was too much. He didn’t want you. 

You staggered back, one little step and you had winnowed yourself down to the city streets. This was good, you needed to get away. He left you alone. He drew back first. You knew all of this, so why did it hurt such an unreasonable amount?

You rubbed your chest in hopes of getting rid of the tightness that seemed to have moved in there since yesterday morning, and then you set course towards the one stop you had to make before getting to Mor’s. 

-

It had been three days since you arrived at Mor’s apartment with a paper bag filled with the sweetest, sugar-powdered pastries your favourite bakery had to offer. It had taken you both approximately 20 minutes to devour them all, after which you no longer had anything to distract your friend from digging up the truth behind your visit. 

You were in love with someone who did not harbour the same feelings towards you. And you desperately needed to get away from him, to save what remained of your heart. 

You had cried, drank some wine, and then cried a little more. You went back to the bakery for more pastries the next day, and the cycle repeated. 

The crisp, early-spring wind was a menace today as you were on your, now daily, pastry run. You were trying to stop your hair from whipping around like a being possessed, cursing up a storm, when you heard him call your name. 

You froze to the spot, like his voice was some primal command. That insufferable tightness in your chest was as present as ever as you forced yourself to put on your brave face and turned towards him. 

There he was, jogging towards you, his brow furrowed. 

“Hey,” Azriel breathed as he came to a stop in front of you. His shadows swirled out in your direction, but retracted before they had a chance to reach you. 

“Hi,” you mumbled back, suddenly finding the cobbled street very interesting. 

He cleared his throat and took a step closer. You took one backwards. The cobblestone looks different here than in the alley by the bakery. 

“I haven’t seen you in a while… you haven’t been home – at the House, I mean,”  he coughed lightly. I wonder if it was made with, like, a different technique? Or maybe the stones are just differently shaped or something?

“Yeah, no, I’ve been staying with Mor for a bit.” It’s definitely mossier on the smaller streets, maybe that’s why? It just shifts the perspecti–

“Angel, please look at me.” 

You didn’t want to, Gods you didn’t want to. But alas, you seemed to have no power when it came to Azriel. 

Any other day, the worry swimming in those hazel eyes would have melted your heart. Today, it just hurt. “Did I do something? Is that why you… haven’t been around?” 

You scoff, “No, you didn’t do anything, Azriel. It’s fine.”

“It’s obviously not fine! I haven’t seen you in days, and now you can barely look at me?” He exclaimed, exasperation clear in his voice. “Look, I’m sorry if I overstepped, or made you uncomfortable – but I miss my friend,” his hands twitched where they rested at his sides, shadows swirling around him with unease.

“Oh, please,” his brows furrowed further at the dry laugh that escaped you, “Are you being serious, Az? I fell asleep in your arms, after you pleaded with me to stay with you – and then I woke up alone.” His face fell. “How do you think that feels? I mean, you must know how I feel about you!” You cursed yourself for the way your voice quivered, and that damned burning feeling behind your eyes that you were so sick of.

“What– no, I didn’t– what do you–,” he stuttered. He actually stuttered. The spymaster of the Night court couldn’t even come up with an excuse for being an ass.

“Save it. I get it – you were lonely, we’ve all been there,” you muttered, wrapping your arms around yourself, “I have to go.”

You turned back in the direction of Mor’s apartment, pastries be damned. You just had to get away.

Azriel had other plans though. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, the cool wisps of shadows snaking up your forearm. You couldn’t help the way you recoiled from his touch, how it seemed to ignite every nerve in your arm. 

“Wait–,”

“NO!” A sob wracked your body. “No, just leave me alone, Az. Can’t you tell that you’re hurting me?” His face twisted in time with your words, and tears pricked your eyes. “Being around you hurts!” 

His shadows were whipping violently around him, but he was as still as death itself.  Something like dread and confusion were clouding his eyes.

He called after you as you walked away. But he didn’t stop you, nor did he try to follow you. And you didn’t dare look over your shoulder, too scared you might run back and give him the rest of your heart, shattered as it may be. No, instead you carried the shards in your hands, tears rolling down your cheeks, one after the other. 

You weren’t sure how you were ever going to be okay. 

-

The bedroom door creaked open, and you pulled the duvet further over your head.

“Hey sleepyhead,” Mor said in a sing-song voice. You weren’t sleeping.

“I’m not asleep,” you muttered, huffing loudly at the giggle that escaped her.

“Yeah, well, calling you a crybaby would be insensitive so I went for the next best thing.” 

Her comment made the corners of your lips twitch, and you silently cursed her for always knowing how to cheer you up. You had gotten quite comfortable in your misery.

You pulled the covers down and looked over at where she stood. Your chest grew uncomfortably tight when you saw what was in her hands. 

“Another one?” You asked and rolled over to face the window. You had forgotten how stubborn he was. Competitive bastard. 

“Yes, and they just seem to get bigger and bigger. I like the daffodils in this one though, very spring-esque. The other ones didn’t have any daffodils,” she mused as she walked in and headed towards the far end of the room, most likely towards the dresser. It was the only surface area not currently taken up by a bouquet.

This was the sixth bouquet he’d sent. In three days. He had turned Mor’s guest room into a damn flower shop. Just being in a ten feet proximity of this room would have sent Cassian into a sneezing frenzy.

“Remember that time in Elain’s garden, when you told me daffodils were your mom’s favourite flower? That she called you her little daffodil when she carried you in her womb? They are very beautiful – just like you. 

“Yours, Azriel.” Mor read the note before carefully putting it back with the flowers. 

Every set of flowers had come with its own handwritten note. He had apologised in the first one, the rest told you he missed you, recalling memories of moments you’d shared. Each one ended with a heartfelt compliment, one that brought tears to your eyes every time, without fail.

Mor let out a slight sigh. “I am fully on your side here, and I don’t want to pressure you into anything, but… are you sure you don’t want to talk to him? I know you’re hurt, and you have every right to be, but… he’s a good male and he likes you – a lot.” 

She’s right. You figured that out two days ago. But your pride was wounded, and your trust had been betrayed, and it stung. 

However, somewhere along when the initial pain had started to diminish it had slowly but surely gotten replaced by the agony of missing him. Now you didn’t know what part of the pain came from what, you only knew that it hurt. 

But Gods, you really did miss him – more and more by the minute. You missed him in your bones; your best friend, your partner in crime, the male you loved. 

“Alright, you don’t have to say anything. I have to visit Rhysand to go over some work though, and I won’t be home until late tonight, probably. There is food and tea in the kitchen, or you can go down to the pub downstairs and ask them to make you something. Just… make sure to go there earlier in the evening to avoid drunken idiots, okay?” You rolled over to look at your friend, who once again proved herself to be way better than you deserved. You nodded. 

“Thank you,” you whispered and her lips curved upwards in a soft smile.

“Of course, take care of yourself,” she said, that warm smile still intact as she made her way out of the room, closing the door behind her. 

After dragging out your stay in bed a few more minutes, the thought of a warm cup of tea became too enticing to ignore. Chucking on a thick sweater you dragged your feet out of the bedroom.

Once in the kitchen, you put the kettle on the stove and went in search of some tea. Where was the one Mor made you yesterday? The one that felt like drinking a warm, spiced hug – you needed that one right now. You found it in one of the cupboards just in time for the water to start boiling. So you made your cup of tea, drizzled in a little bit of honey, and walked out to the living room. You had just put your tea down and made your way over to the wall of bookshelves to pick out a new story to escape into when there was a knock on the door.

The way your entire body froze, yet seemed to come alive at the same time, signalled you knew who it was. How your body and soul could possibly know it was Azriel on the other side of that door, you weren’t sure. But alas, as you crossed the living room towards the entryway and tugged the front door open, there he was. 

He looked tired. His eyes seemed uncharacteristically old, his skin dull and the bags under his eyes were undeniable. Despite this he still managed to look as breath-taking as always. 

Those tired eyes met yours, and you swore you felt time stop. He was here. Your Azriel. 

Except he wasn’t yours, was he? A truth that only stung worse when your name fell from his lips. But seeing him here, like this… you could live with never having him, you thought. As long as he was in your life, if only as a friend.

That’s why you breathed out a “hi,”, and opened the door wider, a silent invitation to step inside. His shoulders sagged in relief as he stepped over the threshold.

“Hey,” Azriel whispered on a shaky breath, as you closed the door behind him. You stood in silence for a minute, neither of you apparently knowing what to say.

Azriel was the first to break the silence, “so, uh– did you get the…”. Bouquets is what he didn’t say, but he didn’t have to.

“Yeah, yeah I did,” you mumbled, never really meeting his eyes. “Pretty.”

“Yeah? Okay,” you could see him nodding out of the corner of your eye. “Good.”

You raised your gaze to meet his, and your heart clenched. You just wanted things back to the way they were, you wanted your friend back. Because standing here in front of him, not knowing what to say was awful. So you did the only thing you could think of…

“I miss you.” Your voice wavered more than you’d ever care to admit, but there it was – the truth. 

Azriel’s shoulders visibly shuddered at your confession. “Oh, angel,” it was your time to shudder. “I’ve missed you too, so much. I’m so sorry,” his eyes glazed over as he continued, “but please believe me when I say that I did not know – about how you felt. And maybe that makes me stupid, and blind, and oblivious–”

“No,” you interrupted him, “you’re not any of those things, Az.” His deprecating words wounded you so deeply, a heavy sadness filling your chest. 

“I should have known. I never would have– I wouldn’t have been such a coward if I knew.” You swore you heard the remnants of your heart crack. 

“Azzy…” You stepped towards him and reached up to cradle his face in your hands. His own hands flew up to your wrist and you prepared for him to reject your touch. 

Only he didn’t. 

Instead he gently held your hands in place and leaned into your touch in a manner so tender your breath hitched in your throat. His thumbs swiped across the backs of your wrists.

“I’m sorry, I got all up in my head and I–,” you didn’t let him finish.

“It’s okay Azriel, I forgive you.” His posture straightened a little as you continued, “I’m sorry too.” 

You felt a tear roll down your cheek, and before you could even register it happening, Azriel had pulled you into a hug. He wrapped an arm around your waist, his other hand coming up to cradle the back of your head as he held you against his chest. He was so warm, and comfortable, and safe, and one tear became two, became three. All the while, Azriel held you, wings enveloping you in a cocoon as he whispered sweet nothings into your hair. 

After what felt like hours, but was merely just minutes, Azriel dropped his wings from around you and as you felt his arms ease their hold on you, you took half a step back. His hand that had cradled the back of your head now cupped your cheek, the other came to rest on your hip.

You dried your tears, ungracefully wiping snot from your nose, and you once again lifted your head in search of those hazel eyes you had grown so in love with. And as your gazes locked – that’s when you felt it.

Like the snap of a bowstring, dead center in the middle of your chest, that glowing, golden thread locked into place – forever connecting your soul with the male across from you. 

The impact was so intense you staggered back, knocking into the end table behind you. Your hand flew up to your chest, fingers clutching the fabric of your sweater as you tried to make sense of what just happened. 

Azriel is your mate.

Does he know? Does he even want you? A thousand thoughts swarmed your head, but they were all overpowered by one: mate. He was your mate. 

Azriel stood, one arm still partially outstretched, eyes wide and brow furrowed. Something like bewilderment filled you to an overwhelming degree, and it took you a moment to realise that the feelings did not belong to you. They were all Azriel, unable to keep his emotions from bleeding across the bond to you. 

“You’re my–,” you stuttered.

“Yes,” he breathed in response.

“I– I’m your–”

“Yes,”

“You knew?” His eyes shuttered at your question.

“Yes,”

You had to sit down. 

You wobbled over to the couch and dropped down. You didn’t even realise he’d followed you until you felt the seat dip beside you. 

He seemed to realise words were not something currently in your possession, and took it upon himself to start to explain.

“You were sleeping, had been for probably an hour at least, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. I have–,” he swallowed and his whole body shook as he professed his next words. “I have been in love with you since the moment I saw you. When Rhysand introduced you to everyone and you were trying to sneak glances at all of us, thinking you were being discreet. You weren’t – quite the opposite actually.” You turned your head to look at him. One of those rare smiles decorated his face as he recalled the memory. “I think everyone noticed, but no one said anything. They were all probably as smitten by you as I was. Not only were you so adorable, you were the most divine female I had ever seen. Your eyes shone so brightly, and you radiated such calmness, such security – like every problem that had ever been wasn’t so bad after all. Like everything was always going to be fine, as long as you were around. You looked heavenly. Like an angel.” He whispered the last part and as his eyes met yours you sucked in a breath at the emotion swimming in them. 

Angel. His dedicated pet name for you. What he had been calling you, and only you, since that very first day. Not only were you the only person with that specific pet name – you were the only one of Azriel’s friend to even have a pet name, you realised. Sure, he referred to Rhysand and Cassian as his brothers. But you were his angel. 

“You love me?” You croaked, fresh tears filling your eyes.

“Yes, I do.” You hiccupped, face twisting as your chest filled to the brim with so many emotions you could not possibly name them all. He took your hands in his, and gave them a light squeeze as he continued, “When we were on that couch I was just… watching you. Holding you. Realising how perfectly you fit in my arms, when you moved. You snuggled deeper into my chest, like being close to me was an instinctual need, and then you sighed, and you smiled in your sleep – and I couldn’t breathe,” he took a deep breath, “that’s when the bond snapped.” You wanted to reach out and smooth out that crease between his eyebrows. Instead you just moved closer to him, pressed yourself into his side, and when he looked down at you, you gave it your best at pushing some of that endless love you held for him down that glittering bond. 

A sharp exhale left his parted lips and he gave your still entwined hands another squeeze. When he looked at you his cheeks were tinged with pink, the tips of his ears flushed. 

He loved you. 

He was your mate and he loved you.

“I was so shocked. Why would it snap now and not earlier?” He shook his head, his eyes not once leaving yours. “Then I started to… doubt myself,” his brows furrowed deeper, “what if you didn’t want me? I didn’t even know if you knew. Knew and… and decided you didn’t want to be with me. The Gods know I don’t deserve you.” 

You couldn’t help the broken whimper that escaped you as you listened to this wonderful male voice how lowly he thought of himself. 

“Don’t say that Azriel,” you croaked, your voice thick from crying. “I love you so much. I look at you and my heart fills to a point where I genuinely think it might burst,” you coughed out an attempt at a laugh. “You are a good male, and I could not imagine a greater honour than the Mother choosing you as my mate.”

A single tear rolled down Azriel’s cheek at your confession. You untangled your hands from his, instead crawling into his lap. This wonderful male, and he was all yours. The love that filled your chest felt so secure, so safe. Like the warmth of the morning sun. Like the smell of freshly baked bread, and early morning bird song. It felt like the beginning of something great. 

You raked your hands through his hair, and as you leaned in to kiss that lone tear away from his jaw, you watched his eyes shutter closed. 

“I love you,” you whispered against his lips, your forehead coming to rest against his, “my mate.” 

His hands found your hips and gripped them tightly, and the touch was more than welcomed. If it was up to you to decide, he would never let you go – forever in each other’s embrace. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered once more, breath hot against your lips. “I shouldn’t have–… please don’t leave me again.”

“Never,” you promised, and then, like waves crashing ashore, you leaned in that last bit and pressed your lips to his. 

His entire body shook beneath you as he reciprocated the kiss, moulding his lips to yours and you couldn’t help but notice how incredibly right it felt. Like coming home. And as your lips moved together that glowing thread became a wild, real, physical thing between you. His hands gripped you tighter, like you were his lifeline. Pulling you impossibly closer, as if you were the air he needed to breathe. His tongue swiped over your bottom lip and your lips parted, letting your tongues meet in the most delicious of ways. 

The kiss was claiming, overpowering and you could not help the whine that escaped you as his fingers dug into your sides. A primal growl rattled deep in his throat, alighting every nerve in your body. 

This.

You wanted to stay right here, just like this, forever. 

-

You didn’t know how long you actually did stay like that – the two of you seemed to, again, be able to defy the concept of time together. But you were now laying on the couch, Azriel’s heart drumming a steady beat in your ear, a warm, overwhelming comfort overtaking your body. 

Slowly, you started to feel yourself drifting off to sleep, and with your head on his chest, his arms around you, the opening and closing of the front door and Mor’s voice that followed, felt so very far away. You almost didn’t apprehend what she said as her voice moved in closer.

“You better not leave her this time,” she ordered, and the rumble of Azriel’s voice, how very safe it made you feel, lulled you deeper and deeper into unconsciousness. 

Your body was impossibly heavy, the words he mumbled into your hair the last thing you registered before sleep claimed you.

“I won't,” he pressed a kiss to your head, “never again.”

tags: @hnyclover @justdreamstars @historygeekqueen @sharknutz @icey--stars @mel-wcst @alysena2 @lewsnumerounofan

[bbyquokka]

slow

– in which it's yn's & jisung's first time together. jisung gets a little too in to it!

pairing | han jisung x fem reader

genre | friends to lovers, fluff, smut – 18+ is strongly advised!

cw | established relationship , small mention of anxiety , jisung & reader are not inexperienced, its their first time being intimate together , masturbation (m) , dirty thoughts , orgasm denial , pet names , love bites , biting , grinding , jisung is rough at the start , safe word used , breast & nipple play , oral sex (m & f rec) , protected sex (p in v) , aftercare

words | 7.6k ~ ( 7,630 )

notes | it's been a while.. i still dont feel 100% on this site rn but i wanted to post a lil something! also, this was requested a hella long time ago! don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. curious as to what is next? here is my wips list! i hope you all enjoy! ‹3

m.list — you can also read it on my ao3

dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

you never thought you could ever be so in love with a human being, yet here you are, smitten by none other than han jisung.

you’ve read and watched about love, soulmates, marriage, sex, all that type of stuff in movies and books. you never believed in the soulmate's thing or the ‘red string of fate’. you simply thought it was a gimmick to hook the audience into whatever media consumption they were consuming.

but alas, here you are. as you look at your lover and soak in every single precious detail of him, you slowly understand the meaning of soulmate's. your heart thumps every time you hear him speak, stomach fluttering every time you watch him fill his cheeks up with food like a squirrel.

you met jisung by chance. you both were attending a beginners painting course at your local community center. it was a chance for you to step out of your comfort zone and meet new people, possibly make new friends too.

you were nervous to begin with and possibly overwhelmed too. new faces, sounds and smells. you were overstimulated and the raging feeling of anxiety activated your fight-or-flight mode.

luckily for you, jisung noticed and instantly calmed you down. he spoke to you in a gentle and soft manner. he made corny jokes to help relax you and ease your mind. you only just met him and yet, you felt instantly connected to him – like you've known him your whole life.

he mentioned that the teacher, who's name you learnt was hyunjin, was a very good friend of his and that you didn't have anything to worry about. you explained that you're a terrible artist and know nothing at all to which jisung replied “me too! let's be terrible together, yeah?” 

that day was the most fun you've had in a long time. the anxiety you felt disappeared as soon as jisung approached you. you both created god awful paintings but they left you in tears of laughter and by the end of the session, you were sure you developed a six pack due to how sore your stomach muscles were hurting from laughing too much.

you could say that you both acted like two high schoolers goofing around in class. hyunjin did tell you and jisung off but he was just happy that his friend was able to find someone just like him.

you and jisung exchanged contact details. calling and texting each other 24/7. it started off small and sweet, telling each other about your day, telling one another to eat well and stay hydrated. sending pictures of things you both think the other would like.

you didn't realise or consider that your feelings for jisung were slowly becoming a lot more than ‘just friends.’ you couldn't explain it at the time. you couldn't understand why you felt so giddy every time you saw his name pop up on your phone screen. you didn't understand why you wanted to scream and shout every time he sent you a comfy selfie. you didn't understand why your heart raced and why you felt the urge to spend every single second of every hour with him and when he wasn't calling or texting you, that you felt sad and empty.

you simply put it down to the fact that you've never had a close friend before, especially of the opposite sex. you mistook your feelings for love as that of excitement and joy.

however, it wasn't until you saw a picture of him with someone else on a night out, did you finally understand.

the jealousy you felt that night turned you bitter and cold. it turned you into something that you didn't recognise within yourself. you did act a little distant towards him the next day and poor jisung didn't have a clue as to why.

one thing about jisung that you've learnt since knowing him, is that he is very good at getting you to talk about things you don't want to.

“do you think the reason you feel like this could be related to something much more? something you haven't quite figured out yet.”

as soon as jisung sent those messages to you, did you reflect and come to terms that you have fallen in love with your best friend. once that was evident, you had a whole new problem.

what if jisung doesn't feel the same as you? what if it affects the friendship between you both?

with so many questions rushing in your mind, you unintentionally ghosted jisung and he noticed.

he noticed the dry messages. the one liners. he noticed that you didn't seem all too interested anymore. yeah, it filled him up with anxiety because he wondered if he'd done anything or said anything to upset you.

instead of letting his mind run away with negative thoughts, he made the bold decision to go to your apartment and talk it out.

it was a day you'd never forget. it was a day that started off angsty and slowly turned into something magical.

you talked with each other and you confessed through your tears. you sobbed and sobbed, worry shaking your entire existence. jisung hugged you tight, his scent calmed your nerves. once calm, did he too also confess and that was the beginning of something you both cherish to this day.

you both agreed to start of slow. neither of you are inexperienced however, going from being ‘just friends’ to boyfriend girlfriend is a whole new feeling.

you're seeing each other in a new light, learning new things about one another. everything is so different, everything feels different. it feels like your relationship with jisung is starting all over again. what you thought you knew about him, turns out to be completely different.

you went on many dates and outings. you held hands multiple times and cuddled a lot. you both even exchanged sweet pecks on the cheeks before kissing each other. however, you both never did anything intimate with one another.

not because you weren't ready or inexperienced, it's a simple matter of the timing doesn't feel right. you (and jisung) both want to be with each other more, spend more time with one another and learn about each other before taking that massive (and vulnerable) step in the relationship.

not one of you pestered or pressured the other about it. it's as if you both silently just knew. at first you were a little anxious about not having sex with him right away and jisung felt the same, however, as time went on and you both started to find comfort in each other as well as understand one another via social/physical cues, did the anxieties slowly disappear.

that's not to say that you don't feel some kind of lust for him. jisung is exactly the same, thinking and feeling like you. some days he wishes he could just ravish you. when you look that extra gorgeous or do something cute that makes his heart skip, he wishes he could just drag you back to his place and indulge in you.

there have been many times that he's masturbated over you. date nights he would find himself going home, straight to his bedroom and his fist around his throbbing cock. his mind plagued with dirty thoughts of you, imagining you in your date attire.

some nights he wants to ruin you. his hand funnelling for his phone as his other is wrapped around his cock and squeezing tightly to deny himself of his orgasm. it hurts and the longer he waits, the more it hurts him but it makes his toes curl and body shakes with excitement.

he doesn't know how long he can go on like this. he knows patience is a virtue but just everything about you is driving him insane. the more time goes on, the more he becomes impatient. the more it builds and builds until it feels like he is suffocating with an intense amount of lust.

luckily for him, he won't have to wait that long.

“thank you for tonight, sungie.” you smile as you stand on the doorstep of your home. jisung hums softly, his hands in his suit pants pockets.

“my pleasure. i hope you enjoyed the meal.”

“i enjoy your company more than anything.” you feel your cheeks heat up slowly. the tips of jisung's ears slowly turn red at your cute confession.

“i – ahm – i shall bid you goodnight then, darling.” as he turns on his heels, he is abruptly stopped by you grabbing his wrist. he looks up at you, a look of confusion on his face, his brows furrowed together.

“what’s the mat–”

“stay the night.” you blurt out in one sentence. 

his heart stops beating for a second. your cheeks pink as the grip on his wrist is tight. heat rushes down south and his mouth becomes dry. 

“darling, what are you trying to say? do you know what will happen if i stay the night?” he takes your hand gently from his wrist, intertwining his fingers with yours as he walks close to you. 

you become fixated on him and your senses become heightened. your throat becomes dry as jisung holds your hand whilst his other wraps around your waist, pulling you flush against his body.

you become hyper aware of the situation; of him! you swallow thickly, jisung's plump lips curled up at the corners in a smirk as they glisten from his saliva. 

“you are aware, correct?” he whispers. his voice is husk and his breath fans against your lips. you nod slowly, unable to speak. you worry that jisung would be able to hear your racing heartbeat. his cologne tickling your nostrils and intoxicating you. 

you've never been this close to him before. you can see every single detail of his skin up close and personal. his grip on your waist tightens ever so slightly as he shakily lets out a slow breath.

he brings the back of your hand to his lips, pressing them against your skin as he peers up at you through his lashes. you feel warmth flooding your body, butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“god you're so beautiful.” he mumbles before kissing each of your fingers individually. “do you want to, darling?”

“i–” you stumble over your words.

“tell me. let me hear your pretty voice.” his hand escapes your waist to be pressed against your flush cheek. you instantly lean into his palm, feeling yourself be swayed by his charms.

“i-i want you, ji.” you whisper as your eyes flutter close. with a small huff, you feel jisung leaning closer to you and within a second, his soft lips are against yours in a slow and rhythmic kiss.

it's different. it feels different. it's not a simple peck or a good night kiss. it's a kiss that is filled with built up fiery passion. jisung has finally been given the go ahead and he can feel it all overflowing and seeping out.

he grips your hand, eyes fluttering closed as his brows scrunch together. you tilt your head to the side a little, lips locking and caressing one another. he presses his body against yours, your back hitting your door which causes jisung to snake his arms around your back and hold you firmly in his arms.

your own arms wrap around his neck, keeping him close to you as possible. the way jisung is kissing you is making you feel lightheaded and deprived of oxygen – but you don't want to escape from his grasp.

the cold night air fans against your hot cheeks, failing to bring down your body temperature. you feel the tip of his tongue glide along your bottom lip, silently pleading for permission. you grant it by parting your lips and letting your own tongue caress with his.

your body fills with tingles of excitement, your abdomen fluttering. jisung's suit pants are starting to feel a little tight. he can feel himself slowly melt into you, his mind turning foggy. he's waited all this time to taste you and now he finally has you, he doesn't want to escape and let you go.

“taste so sweet.” he mumbles for a split second to allow some air to resume into his lungs. you don't have a chance to reply because his lips are instantly back on yours, tongue caressing and colliding with yours. melting at the touch.

your heart thumps against your chest so loudly, you can hear it in your ears. your body trembles with excitement but also another feeling that you can't quite put your finger on.

you hear jisung fumbling behind you, his hand coming into contact with the cold door handle. with his lips still locked onto you, he opens the door and slowly pushes you inside. once inside, he kicks the door closed with his foot as you both stumble whilst taking off your shoes.

you're the first to pull away from his lips much to his dismay. you look at the man that stands before you and notice that he looks and feels different. he no longer feels soft and gentle. his eyes are hazy but darkened with hunger and lust. his cheeks are pink and lips swollen and glistening with saliva. you see his chest rising up and down with every breath and his neat hair now dishevelled.

“where?” his words dripped with a hint of impatience. you swallow a little and chew your lip gently.

“we can go to my room?” you press your lips together in a thin line. you're suddenly aware that jisung is in your home, in your space and it's making you nervous as hell! jisung notices you trembling a little so he places one hand on your shoulder whilst the other is used to lift your chin up gently so you're looking at him.

“are you sure?” his voice is now soft and gentle, the same softness you've grown accustomed too. “we don't ha–”

“i want to!” you blurt out causing jisung to widen his eyes slightly before chuckling to himself. “just give me a few seconds. i need to go to the restroom.”

he gives you a gentle smile and nods. as you go to the restroom, you tell jisung the directions to your bedroom in case he wants to sit and wait and whilst he does, he takes his time looking around your place.

he makes a mental note how it's just like you. how every piece of decoration resembles you in one way or another. he walks to your bedroom, cautiously sitting on your bed as he waits for you.

as he waits, he suddenly becomes hyper aware of where he is. he can smell you. the same lavender scent that emits from your clothing is now tickling his nostrils. his lips part as he lets out small, shaky puffs of air.

“fuck.. this is bad.” he mumbles as he unbuttons the first few buttons of his dress shirt. his body temperature skyrocketing, skin glistening in sweat as your scent continues to hug him deliciously.

meanwhile, you're in the restroom giving yourself a pep-talk. the coolness of the ceramic sink feels soothing against your hot palms.

you're nervous. you've never been this nervous before. it feels like you could throw up. you want to run and hide but the desire you have for him is too strong. you want him and he wants you, it's just because it's all new that you feel like this.

however, you can't shake that hungry look from jisung's eyes away from your mind. he looked like an animal, ready to pounce on you at any second. 

you take a few deep breaths in and slowly release before fixing your hair. “you got this yn.” you mumble to your reflection before walking out of the restroom into the bedroom.

jisung looks up at you and gives you a grin. his legs are spread, hair pushed back with the buttons of his dress shirt still open, giving you a glimpse of his honey smooth skin you've been dying to caress.

he pats his inner thigh, silently beckoning you forward. like a puppet on a string, you feel yourself being pulled towards him. you stand between his legs, his hands on your waist gently as he strokes it with his thumb.

you glance at him, soaking in how beautiful and flush he looks. he tilts his head to the side, his bangs covering his eyes and his lips curl into a smirk as he sees your eyes flicker from his face to his crotch.

“like what you see?” 

your eyes widen and you feel heat rush to your cheeks. your brain melts and your ability to speak fails. words lodged in your throat and all you can muster is broken sentences.

jisung laughs at your flustered state, pulling you onto his lap. he pulls you flush on his crotch, chest to chest. his arms wrapping around your back and holding you close and he nuzzles into the crook of your neck.

the tips of his hair tickle your cheeks. hot, shaky breaths fanning against your skin as you feel your clothing being bundled up into jisung's hands.

“fuck, i’m in trouble. you’re too cute.” you giggle, your fingers caressing his soft hair. the tips of your fingers rake against his scalp and jisung closes his eyes slowly. his lips brush against the skin of your neck before being pressed against it. 

he starts off slow and gentle at first, peppering and sucking gently. but that soon fades.

you feel his teeth graze against your skin and your breath hitches in your throat. you bite your bottom lip gently before whimpering a little as his teeth dig into your neck. you squeeze your eyes shut, enduring the stinging sensation as you hold your breath. 

his kissing and sucking quickly becomes rough and painful. you grip onto jisung as his hands trail down your back to hold your waist. he grips onto you, moving your hips back and forth on his crotch.

when he pulls away from your neck, do you realise exactly what is happening and why you feel so anxious.

this isn't your first time but with how rough jisung is being is making you feel scared. the kind, gentle man you're so accustomed to is nowhere to be seen. his eyes are darkened, half-lidded. kiss bitten and swollen lips glistening in saliva.

his jaw clenches as he grips onto you forcefully. his mind has fogged over and he is purely chasing his own high. his body is being driven by the intense lust and hunger that had been building for months.

he's a different person and it's scaring you.

“h-hey. why don't we take i–” your attempt at trying to calm him down and bring him back to you cut short due to jisung throwing you onto the bed.

your back is hit with the bouncy mattress, the springs squeaking from impact. you watch jisung kneel between your legs, hands fumbling with the rest of the buttons of his shirt before it's quickly discarded to the side leaving him in nothing but his dress pants.

you wish you could enjoy the beautiful sight before you but you simply can't. you've seen jisung's body numerous times via gym or thirst selfies, seeing it in the flesh and glistening in a thin layer of sweat is a different experience and you so wish you could enjoy it.

“ji–” your eyes widen as he leans down and kisses you. it's not the same as before, it's rough. all teeth and tongues with no coordination. you start to panic, palms becoming sweaty and your heart beating against your chest.

this isn't how you imagined your first time to be with jisung. this isn’t what you wanted. you want your passionate, gentle and loving jisung back.

“v-volcano!” you sob. as if a switch has suddenly been switched inside of him, he is fast to get off you. his eyes widen in pure shock at the sight before him. you chew your bottom lip gently, unable to stop a few tears from trickling down your cheeks.

“oh my god. oh no. yn, oh fuck. i’m so sorry!” he reaches down shakily and presses his palm against your cheek. you lean in as you sniffle.

“it’s ok.” you whisper.

“no!” his sudden loud tone of voice makes you jump a little. “it’s not ok. i lost myself in the moment and i made you cry. fuck, i’m an idiot..”

“hey, it's ok.”

“it's not ok yn. i didn't mean to scare you. i've been wanting you for so long that when i finally got you, i lost sight of everything and in the process hurt and scared you.” his voice cracking and shaking. his brown, boba eyes filling with tears.

you sit up and kiss his cheek gently. your lips are met with the salty flavour of his tears. he wraps his arms around you tightly, pulling you into his chest as he sobs.

“i’m sorry. i’m so fucking sorry. this wasn't how i planned this. fuck i’m so stupid!” he babbles. you hush him softly, stroking his hair slowly. you make a mental note of how he currently reminds you of a lost child, babbling and crying till their red in the face and snotty.

“i’m ok jisung. it did scare me. i saw a side to you that i’ve never seen before and it frightened me but you stopped when i used the safe word and that counts for something.”

“really?” he mumbles against your neck which is currently wet with tears.

“really. it'd be different if you carried on but you didn't. don't beat yourself up about this. this is our first time together.” you pull away slowly, cupping his cheeks. “we’re still learning about one another, darling. intimacy is a big big step in a relationship. it's probably one where we're at our most vulnerable.”

jisung simply nods and looks down, chin into chest as his lips turn into a pout. a few stray tears falling down his cheeks as he sniffles.

he really is like a child you say to yourself mentally before giggling.

“i'm sorry.” he whispers before looking up at you. “can we start all over again?”

you smile softly at him and nod. he leans on, tilting his head to the side and eyes slowly closing as your lips meet again. he is slow, tender and so gentle with you. it sparks butterflies in your stomach and for you to melt and relax into him.

he gently pushes you down so you're resting on your back, the kiss not being broken once. you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close to you. his fingers dance along your jawline and down your neck, trailing down to your breasts when he gently cups them through the fabric of your clothing.

your breath hitches a little in your throat. he gently massages your breast, kneading it in the palm of his hand. you gasp a little and groan, your legs parting a little bit more to allow more space for jisung to situate himself in.

his hand slowly trails up your stomach from under your clothing. his soft fingers dance along your skin like delicate pixie feet. it leaves a trail of heat and butterflies behind making you longing for more.

jisung licks your lips slowly and is pleased to feel them slowly part. the two wet muscles meet in the middle when they collide, hug and caress. his delicate fingers reach to your breast where he presses his palm on the flesh and wraps his fingers around it gently.

he squeezes your breast a few times, kneading and rolling it slowly. he swallows every gasp and soft moan that falls past your lips.

“god.” he mumbles as he pulls away to bury his face into the crook of your neck. “you sound so beautiful.” 

“i do?” 

“mhm.” jisung's fingers brush over your hardened nipple, causing you to moan softly in shock at the sudden sensation and sensitivity. “see? i might become addicted.”

you flush at his words, your stomach fluttering and heartbeat skipping beats. you worry with how close jisung is to you, that he'd be able to hear and feel how erratic your heart is.

he presses his lips against your neck, kissing it tenderly and giving gentle sucks. his fingers work on your breast whilst you're unsure on what to do with your own. jisung notices this.

“it’s ok. you can touch me.” he chuckles against your neck. you flush red with embarrassment.

“i-i know! i just don't know where..”

“you can caress me. hold me. tangle your fingers in my hair. whatever feels natural, yn.” he pulls away from your neck to kneel up. his hand is off your breast as he takes your hand gently by the wrist. he brings your hand to his lips, eyes on you as he kisses your fingers delicately. “i won't break.”

you watch him kiss your fingers before kissing the back of your hand. then, he takes your wrist gently, guiding it to his cheek. he presses your palm against his flush skin as he leans in, his own hand pressed against the back of yours to keep your hand there.

“it’s ok to touch me, yn. touch me as much as you like. i've been dying for your touch so please, indulge in me. be greedy.” he whispers. 

you can't help the onslaught of butterflies fluttering in your stomach. it feels like they're travelling throughout your whole body, hugging your veins, nerves and tips of your fingers and toes. your breathing becomes shallow and jisung becomes the only thing you see.

everything turns blurry and time passes by slowly as you look at the man that is smitten for you. this love you feel from him, the love that's radiating and seeping from his pores is more than you thought.

it's suffocating but it's good. you want to drown in his love, drown in his warmth. you want to be entangled with him and have him be the only person you think and feel. 

you've noticed it for a while. noticed how hot he makes you feel. how his touch makes your skin burn. how his kisses linger on your skin. your lips automatically turned up in a smile whenever you see his name pop up on your screen. you're always thinking of him and you miss him when he isn't with you. you want to lock him up and never share him with anyone else because you'll get jealous. you want him by your side for eternity.

he is your life, your soul. your present and your future.

“i love you.” 

jisung looks at you, his eyes slowly widening. you haven't registered what you've just said, feeling like you're in a haze.

“say that again.” 

“huh?” you blink, coming back to reality.

“do you mean it? like, truly?” 

“mean what?”

“you said… you said you love me.” your eyes widen as you open and close your mouth like a goldfish, words stuck in your throat.

“i… i…uhm..”

“because–” he cups your cheeks gently. his eyes sparkling and wet as they fill with tears. “because i love you too. so fucking much.” 

your own eyes fill with tears as you watch tears trickle down jisung's cheeks. you laugh softly, stroking them away with your thumb.

“yes. i mean it, ji. i love you.”

“fuck.” he sobs before kissing you sweetly. you laugh in the kiss before kissing his tears away.

“yn.” he mumbles. you hum as a response. “i’m really fuckin' hard.. it hurts..” you press your lips together and glance down.

true to his word you can see a bulge in his suit pants. the fabric hugs him nicely, giving you a brief idea of his size and girth. he looks thick and long.

“please yn.. please do something. i can't bear it no more.” his voice is husk and dripping with lust. it tickles your ears and makes you shake with adrenaline.

you reach down and unbutton his pants, pulling the zip down. it gives him a small sense of relief but it's not enough. he lets out a small sigh before raising up a little on his knees to allow you to pull his pants down.

you do so with shaky hands, pulling them down to his thighs. jisung watches you stare at his crotch, watching you soak in all the information you have right in front of you.

his grey boxer shorts hugging his lower half tightly, the material stretching a little due to his bulge. it hugs him, feeling too snug to be comfortable. a wet patch where his tip is resting turning the fabric a darker grey.

“baby.. you're embarrassing me.” you look up to see jisung looking to the side, his bottom lip being chewed and his cheeks pink.

“sorry! it's just..” you trail off. jisung laughs softly and cups your cheeks.

“it’s ok. i understand.” he kisses your forehead gently. his muscles twitch and jerk as he feels your fingers come into contact with his sides.

you hook your fingers under the waistband of his shorts and slowly pull them down. you both hold your breath, time feeling like it's slowed down. you reveal his happy trail, his neatly trimmed hair until finally, his penis bounces free from its restraints.

jisung sighs heavily in relief, his eyes closing. you, on the other hand, stare at him with your mouth wide open. your hands have now bundled up the fabric of his shorts as you swallow and lick your lips.

you knew he was packing, that was evident in the way you could see it in jeans, pants and even his underwear – but you didn't think he'd be this big.

“holy. you're big.” you say without giving it a second thought. jisung stutters and covers his face with his hands, peering at you through the gap of his fingers.

“not sure if that's a compliment or not but, thank you.” 

“it's a compliment.” you whisper before leaning down.

his hips buck and muscles twitch. you haven't done anything but your breath fanning against his hot skin makes him throb and anticipate. you lick your lips and use the tip of your tongue to lick his tip.

“f-fuck.” he instantly moans. your actions are miniscule but it feels so much more than what it is. maybe it's because he's wanted this for so long or maybe it's because you both confessed and said i love you that makes it feel the way it does.

you press your tongue flat against his tip. your taste buds are met with a salty flavour from his pre-cum. you wrap one hand around the base of his penis as you slowly start to become more confident. you stroke him slowly, rotating your wrist a few times as you wrap your lips around his tip.

he feels hot – so so hot. jisung feels like his skin is burning. he feels like he is drowning in molten lava. he pants as he watches you, his eyes half-lidded and his teeth chewing on his bottom lip.

“hot.” he pants. he reaches down to bury his fingers in your hair. “ahh, fuck..” his head tilts to the side as you bob your head in time with your hand, giving his penis equal stimulation from both your hand and mouth.

you flatten your tongue to stoke the underside of him. you can feel the bumps from his veins against your palm. you hollow out your cheeks and breath through your nose the best you can. the corners of your mouth start to stretch and sting due to them splitting slightly. your mouth becomes accumulated with saliva which makes it easier for you to take more of him.

“a-ah.. fuck, yes. that's it. god, your mouth is so warm and feels so good.”

his praises and soft moans hug your ears. the deep octa waves of his voice send shivers down your spine and encourage you to be more brave. your eyes flutter shut as you focus all your attention on pleasuring jisung. 

he slowly unravels right before you. a thin sheen of sweat soaking his body as his penis throbs and twitches. he gently tugs on your hair, his hips bucking several times. soft whimpers and moans leave his swollen and parted lips as he slowly becomes dizzy with heat and lust.

jisung reaches down and gently pushes you away from him. you look up at him with a confused expression, eyebrows furrowed together. he strokes your saliva coated lips with his thumb before speaking.

“you're going to make me cum and i don't want to cum just get.” 

you laugh softly but it's quick to become muffled and swallowed by jisung kissing your lips slowly and passionately. you only pull away from a brief second to allow him to undress you.

once stripped of your clothing, you're left in your underwear. just like you did, jisung is currently staring at your body. his mouth agape and eyes filling with love and admiration as he soaks in every single detail of your body.

you become aware of his eyes and feel somewhat violated by his piercing gaze. you cross your arms across your breasts and stomach, feeling embarrassed and vulnerable.

“hey, don't do that.” he whispers softly to you as he gently pries away your arms.

“but it's embarrassing.” you mumble.

“but you're so gorgeous, yn.” you remain silent. you don't know how to respond. he's always showered you with compliments and love, forever telling you how beautiful and pretty you are but it feels different this time and it's making you feel embarrassed and shy.

your thoughts are disrupted by the feeling of jisung kissing your stomach. you watch him, tangling your fingers in his hair. he reaches up and hooks a finger underneath your bra strap as if he's silently asking.

you nod slowly. he grins, showing his teeth and gums. he takes off your bra and discards it with the rest of the clothing. his head dips low and you close your eyes, whimpering as you feel his lips peppering kissing on your breasts.

“so pretty.” he mumbles between each kiss. your hard nipple is caught between his teeth, lips sucking and tongue licking the sensitive nub.

you chew your bottom lip to suppress the moans that are building in the back of your throat. you tremble a little and let out a small pant. jisung notices and releases your nipple to kiss your neck softly and slowly.

“don't hold back your voice. let me hear your pretty moans.”

tingles are being left behind from where jisung has kissed your skin. heat pools in the pit of your stomach and much to jisung's delight, you let go of the moan that had been building in the back of your throat.

“see. told you your moans sound pretty.” his hot breath fanning against your hard nipple before his tongue swipes over it slowly. it gets covered in saliva and slowly becomes sore and sensitive.

the tips of your fingers and toes feel tingly. you feel restless and needy. you want him to hurry up and touch you but at the same time, you want to indulge and embrace the sweet yet tender moment.

he moves from your breast and kisses between them, kissing, sucking and licking your stomach whilst his hair tickles your skin. he stops just above the waistband of your underwear, eyes flicking up to meet your hungry gaze.

you nod and give him the go ahead. he licks his lips and slowly pulls down your underwear, discarding them on the floor. you swallow, feeling nervous and embarrassed now that you're on full display for jisung to see.

he shuffles between your legs, kissing your inner thigh slowly as well as sucking it. he squeezes your soft flesh as he looks at you and keeps eye contact with you. you bite your bottom lip, loving this new side to him. your once innocent looking skin now tainted with purple love bites and goosebumps.

using the tip of his middle finger, he trails it up and down your inner thigh slowly. he looks at your pussy, humming softly as the sight of your soaked folds and swollen clit.

“all this for me?” he whispers as he drags his middle finger to your entrance and gently scoops some of your slick onto it. you nod slowly, unable to speak with how embarrassed you feel. “cute.” he mumbles before licking his finger clean.

he leans down and in, pressing his tongue flat against your neglected bud. your muscles twitch and you gasp as electric like tingles shoot up and down your spine. jisung hums at your reaction, swiping his tongue along your clit.

“j-jisun.. aah!” your eyes flutter close as you press your head onto the pillows. the tip of jisung's tongue is now swirling around your bud, fingers teasing your entrance slowly. he gently sucks on your clit before kitten licking it and moaning softly.

he hooks his arms under your legs, pulling you flush against his face. his tongue slips down to your entrance where he laps at your slick, moaning at the taste and rutting against the mattress. he huffs occasionally, hot breathes fanning against your entrance.

“so good.” he mumbles. you go to reply but a moan replaces your words due to jisung slowly pushing his tongue into your entrance. your warmth encapsulates his tongue, fingers digging into the skin of your thighs. he pushes and pulls his tongue in and out whilst his nimble fingers work on stimulating your clit.

“mhm, fuck. ji don't stop, please.” you moan as you reach down and grab his hair on your hands. you gently tug as your back arches a little. jisung feels your walls flutter on his tongue, your muscles twitching with the stimulation.

your folds get coated in slick and saliva along with jisung's lips and chin. he pulls away for a brief second to catch his breath before resuming back to the task at hand. jisung is thrusting into the mattress, the roughness of the sheets rubbing against his length that's being pressed against his stomach and coating it in his pre-cum.

you feel that all too familiar heat and knot in the pit of your stomach. you gasp and moan, tugging at his hair by the roots. your eyes flutter open and you look up at him as he pulls away, your lips forming a pout.

“i want to carry on, believe me baby but–” he kneels up and between your legs. he looks down and bites his lip. you follow his gaze and press your lips together in a thin line from how hard he is. “it’s painful. i need to be inside of you.”

“o-oh.” you blush. “then, hurry up because i want you.” 

“do you have any protection?” you nod and point to the side drawer by your bed. jisung reaches over you and you take this opportunity to lean up and kiss his neck. jisung grunts and shivers, his lips parting slightly as you gently bite and lick his skin.

“baby.. you're not helping.” 

“shh, just focus on getting a condom.” you purr. jisung's hands fumble around, struggling to open the drawer. when he does, he is met several packs of condoms, lube and some toys.

“i see you're fully stocked up.” he says with a smirk, grabbing a condom and closing the drawer. you feel heat rising to your cheeks.

“there for a friend.” you mumble, averting his gaze. jisung laughs as he opens the condom.

“riiiight, a friend.” 

“shut up.” you whine. “it's better to be prepared.”

“oh i know. that's what i love about you, baby.” you watch him roll the rubber on his length and hold your waist, pulling you closer to him. “ready?”

“i’m ready.”

jisung nods and holds the base of his penis. he guides it to your entrance, rubbing his tip against it and between your folds before slowly pushing in. you both hiss for different reasons.

for him, the warmth and tightness is delicious. you feel so comfy and hot that the heat is spreading throughout his entire body and replacing the blood in his veins with molten lava. he feels his cheeks becoming hot, his palms sweaty and brain feeling like it's melting.

for you, the pain from the stretch burns. you know it'll subside once you get used to him but his thickness is currently the issue. he is being careful and content, going ever so slow for you. he has a little under half his length in and you already feel full.

“it’s not all of it but you're still so tight so we shall go from here.” jisung manages to say through his laboured breaths. he gives you a few minutes to adjust, his hands gripping onto you as he painfully waits.

you give him a nod that tells him it's ok. he starts of slowly, the burn still there but pleasure is soon quick to override it. you reach down and hold onto his wrists as he slowly picks up the tempo. 

his head tilts to the side and his lips part slightly. soft moans and grunts leave his lips. you hold onto him, your body rocking with each thrust of his hips.

“aah fuck. you feel even better than i imagined.” he pants.

“y-you too. please go a little faster and harder.” jisung nods and starts to thrust harder and faster. your back arches as pleasure hugs your body tightly, making you feel like you're suffocating. moans being lodged in your throat.

jisung leans over you, resting on his forearms that are beside your head. the new position allows him to push a little bit of his length deeper inside you but his hips slow down. his movements are long, slow and sensual. 

the ridges of his cock rub your gummy walls, reaching places that have never been touched before. jisung leans down, burying his head into the crook of your neck as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“this feels too good.” his voice is hoarse and low due to his throat being dry from panting. his hair sticks to his skin, the tips coated in sweat as his body glistens.

“it does. you're so deep, ji. please don't stop.” you whisper in his ear, moaning a few times.

“fuck.. you sound so fucking pretty moaning my name. is it even possible to become even more addicted to you?” he kisses your neck slowly and gently. 

your gummy walls tighten around him. both of you reaching your peaks. denying yourselves from previous orgasms meant that it's been building and building up to this point.

“i can't..” you stutter, nail digging into his back.

“me too.. i think i’m at my limit.” you whimper and nod as a response. a few more thrusts and you both orgasm together. your walls flutter around him whilst he twitches and empties into the condom.

you both pant heavily, exhaustion settling in. jisung's arms shake a little, threatening to give up and collapse on top of you. using the remaining strength he has, he pushes himself up and pulls out slowly, taking off the condom, tying and discarding it.

you spread out on the bed, eyes slowly closing. jisung laughs and kisses your forehead gently. he rushes to the bathroom, running a warm bubble bath for you both.

he gently scoops you up in his arms, placing you in the tub before settling behind you. after washing yourselves, you both take a few minutes to relax. you lean into his chest, listening and feeling his steady heartbeat.

“i’m sorry about before..” he mumbles as he strokes your hair slowly. “i became too excited and lost myself in the moment.”

“it’s ok. all's forgiven.” you grin, looking up at him. your grin falters as you look at him. his head dipped low, chin tucked into his chest. his boba eyes glistening as he chews his bottom lip. “hey, it's ok.” 

you spin around to face him in the tub, kneeling uncomfortable in the small tub. you cup his damp cheeks gently, water droplets falling from the tips of his hair. he looks at you and pouts softly.

“but i sca–” you press your lips against his to silence him. his eyes widen a little but he is quick to kiss back.

“i said it's ok. you stopped and you snapped out of it pretty quickly. don't beat yourself up about it, baby. besides–” you push his hair back gently “i enjoyed my first time with you.”

“me too.” his cheeks flush pink, whether from him feeling shy or the humidity of the bathroom. “i’d love to do it with you again.”

“the feelings mutual.” you giggle before kissing his forehead. “now c’mon, let's get to bed. it's been a long night and i’m exhausted.”

jisung agrees and gets out of the tub with you. you both dry yourselves off and get ready for bed. jisung suddenly scoops you up in his arms which causes you to squeal and laugh. he walks to the bed, gently placing you down.

you snuggle into the duvet, watching jisung get in beside you. he faces you, holding your hand gently.

“i love you, yn. i love you so much.” he plays with your fingers as he whispers those sweet and delicate words to you. your heart flutters and skips beats, time freezing for nth time.

“i love you too, ji. forever and always.” 

[celestialtarot11]

Astrology Observations 🧎‍♂️‼️

Hi friends! Today we’re just doing a general post for the astrological signs 🤭✨ Please enjoy and share! Your feedback is always appreciated.

Earth sign energy is heavy and dark, not negative, but they are very connected to their roots, ancestors and past lives. They carry lots of baggage from the past to heal in this lifetime, and thus may feel they lived through many timelines and cycles. They can feel similarly to Scorpio that experienced tons of transformations.

Libra moons can be indecisive in relationships, not because they have a bad sign placement but because they care a lot about people’s feelings. Sometimes too much to their detriment. They’d rather keep the peace than to rock the boat, but that’s what causes tension. Libra moons just need more confidence and security in their choices, and focus on themselves 🧘

Cancer Venus from a young age experienced misunderstandings from the people around them. Cancer venus wants a close community and people who understand their emotions, but in an emotionally unavailable society they can feel neglected and lonely. Its why cancer venus develops walls to protect their heart. They still care, but it takes them a long time to open up.

Virgos remember little details of everyone and hope they can do the same for them. They essentially give what they need and Virgos need attention and someone who creates quality time.

Gemini venus crave communication and mental stimulation in their connections. They love to learn and interact with people. Gemini Venus can also experience lots of isolation or periods of alone time because they aren’t finding the right people to connect to. They’d rather be alone than to have surface level interaction and filler conversations.

Leo + Aquarius pairing in a chart can indicate the native is truly unique and unforgettable. They strive so much to be themselves that it inspires others to do so. Some may even idolize the native, and others can get jealous because the native has qualities they wish they had. The native basically inspires others to get a personality 💅🏻

Mercury 8h can be so funny. We can get picky about what personal info to leave in the outside world. Even the idea of leaving behind our birthday info can irk us 😭 why? I think being in the spotlight or being perceived can be difficult for us.

Adding onto that, mercury 8h can channel spirits, occult knowledge, spirit guides, etc. when they tap in, they TAP in. They did not come to play 😍 All they need is a good meditation sesh and they’re good to go 🧘 all powered up.

Jupiter 8h can go through so many endings and terrible situations and still somehow come out stronger and better. They take their healing and growth seriously, and I think Jupiter 8h people have big hearts, so they always reconnect with that energy which is what carries them 😤

Cancer + Leo in a chart makes someone mystical, ethereal, private, yet somehow well known. There will always be an aspect to these natives to hide to protect themselves, and yet their Leo side will try to guide them out their comfort zone.

Aries rising females always knew who they were since birth 🤭 they could’ve photographed a lot, dressed up a lot, and it’s iconic. Since birth they knew! Aries rising females can be human rights activists too, because they have strong opinions, perspectives and believe in empowerment. Aries rising females may also be into modeling, because since a young age they were surrounded by cameras and people who thought they were beautiful ❤️

Aquarius rising children always look upset in their pictures or they have that thousand mild yard stare 😭 help #me

Sagittarius rising children always had that mischievous look on their face in every picture, or they looked incredibly angry. They had no issue letting their true selves out 😤

Pisces women tend to move far from their home town or childhood home. Lots of them have dreams of living far away from their roots. I think its to discover who they are and rebuild themselves after going through a lot. They physically need to disconnect from toxic environments to heal.

Gemini sun women are like teachers in many ways. Especially when they’ve healed a lot. They can be a teacher to the siblings around them or people. Many turn out to be motivational speakers because they have so much wisdom to share.

Thank ya’ll so much for reading 💗☮️ feel free to like comment and reblog to support the blog 🧘✨ Have a great one!

Paid Readings ✨

[phyrestartr]

Divine Favour | Sukuna x Kitsune!Reader (Pt.2) NSFW

W/C: 3.2k #NSFW, THEY FUCKIN', bottom!reader, top!sukuna, mild yuuji/reader, yuuji and gang are v early 20s, heian sukuna, male reader, typical kitsune shapeshifting, canon typical violence, morally grey reader, sukuna ignores feelings through the force of sheer willpower, unhealthy relationships, power imbalance, dubcon elements, blood as lube (SORRY), Sukuna unhinged horknee, ABO elements

A/N: I wanted to make this include more parts, but I am so flabbergasted and in awe of the response to this fic that I feel the need to feed y'all feral creatures LMAO. JKJK but 👀 Thank you for all the feedback and support! It really gives me the motivation to continue writing and to interact with the JJK community. I'm having a lot of fun!

tags: @kamote-kuneho @kamote-kuneho @nyanwko @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @3zae-zae3 @chibiduck @kiiyoooo @lukaijah

“What the fuck is this?” Sukuna drawled, an intense fury simmering through his being. His gaze couldn't tear free from you, not even to size up the blindfolded weirdo watching him intently. 

He shattered the coffin, freeing you from the makeshift cursed bath some freak had forced you into. He smoothed damp hair from your sickly face and searched for sparks of life somewhere in the cold stillness that'd overtaken you. And there was something. He found it, a little glimmer of vitality in the smallest, shakiest inhale. 

“Good,” he praised, brushing your hair back more and more to get a better look at your face. You looked like the frail little thing he saved all those decades ago.

“You know,” Gojo interrupted, but Sukuna paid him no mind, “If I didn't know any better, I'd think you actually cared about that kitsune.” 

“Then you don't know what this is,” Sukuna decided blandly. “Figures.” Kenjaku kept him off the record, huh? Guess that's a bonus.

“Oh? Do you wanna enlighten me before Yuuji comes back?” Gojo smiled, as if he really expected Sukuna to play nice and be honest with him. “Come on, come on, it's your chance to be vulnerable~” 

“Tch. Pretty damn sure the fox'll be the one to tell you.” His hand smoothed over your stomach and rubbed slow, gentle circles against your skin as reverse technique sought to bring you all back to him. “He yaps about as much as your insufferable ass does. Granted, he talks a lot nicer.” 

“Wow, rude.” Gojo sighed and clapped twice as if clapping on a light. “Okay! I've had enough bullying. Yuuji–” 

“Brat, don't you fucking dare–” 

Yuuji inhaled sharply. He blinked owlishly at your calmed expression, your eyes now closed and breathing now steadied thanks to Sukuna's aid. 

Aid. That wasn't something the king did. 

“Sensei,” Yuuji managed, voice quivering under the weight of memories’ emotion. “Can you fix this?”

Somehow, you were stuck in the throes of flirtation with the malevolent king of curses. 

“It may be courtship,” Uraume guessed, soft smile brightening their cold exterior. 

(They'd been smiling more recently, actually, ever since you completed that overcoat and presented it to them. Nary a day went by when they did not don the sentimental garb.)

But you weren't so sure; the event of courtship was serious business across all lucid creatures. Animals and creatures of primal existence sought out partners with favorable genes and strong constitution, whereas humans and the like yearned for merit or love in their coupling. You didn't quite grasp the way humans thought. Not yet. 

Well, save for flirting. You decided it was a sort of pre-courtship where nothing became serious and nothing was on the line, but frivolous touches and haughty words of praise ran rampant when those concerned crossed paths. 

Much like today.

(Much like the days before and after.)

You walked along the stone-paved path most mornings, lost in thoughts and mumbling to yourself bits and pieces of poems. Most were unfinished, but in their own time, verses would find one another and complete the incomplete. 

A groggy yawn hummed from the palace entrance. And moments later, Ryoumen Sukuna fell into step with you, grumbling and mumbling complaints about the nippy Spring morning while he tucked his arms away into his sleeves. 

He followed you, idly looking around the expansive space you'd helped curate and maintain when you weren't busying yourself with the girls or decorating clothing. The gardens weren't a mess before, not at all, but now they had a certain taste–trees and flowers were planted with specificity, stones were moved, paths reworked. You took the outside over completely. The king didn't mind. 

“Sukuna-sama,” you said, voice melting in kind with the morning frost. “I'll need to leave for a short while.” 

Sukuna quirked a brow and looked at you. You gazed upon the large, thick koi flashing their beautiful scales and ornate patterns of orange and white as they swam and followed you. Tch. How come even the fish were drawn to you? 

“And how do you think you'll accomplish that?” Sukuna tossed a rock into the koi pond, making the fish scatter. “Getting away from me isn't something you can do.”

You huffed and looked at him. “I understand. I simply seek your permission.” 

“Denied.”

“Ah.” You deadpanned. “Why?”

“You're mine; I decide where you go, how you breathe, if you eat. Or are you forgetting that?” 

You sighed and let your ears droop sadly with your tails. “Surely you jest.” 

“Are you laughing?”

You whined like a sad, sad street pup before cozying up to him, slipping your hands up his stomach and chest like you were supposed to. “Please?” 

“No.” 

You chittered and pressed your face against him, but didn't protest and complain much more. 

Sukuna’s thoughts whirled. The show was amusing, sure, but you didn't do anything without reason, especially when it had to do with breaking character and acting out like this out of–

Oh? 

Sukuna leaned down and sniffed you, searching for the intriguing coil of flowery citrus he nearly missed on the warming breeze. It was so, so faint, but decadent and alluring in a way that made the master of toxins cautious–most poisons tasted sweet, after all. 

You pulled your head back, shrinking down the slightest bit with your ears flattened against your skull. Your eyes, wide as a full moon, stared up at him, expectant. The touch of your hands on him never left, though.

“Brassavola nadosa.” Sukuna tilted his head. “You smell like it.” 

You blinked curiously, relaxing. “Is that so?” 

We don't have that orchid in the garden. Sukuna hummed and lifted a lock of your hair, catching another weak waft of the flower's faint scent. 

It's coming from him, then. Hm. 

“Tell me again why you want to leave the palace?” Sukuna asked on a hunch.

And that hunch doubled down when you fidgeted with the cloth of his haori and looked aside. 

“I wish to bear children," you admitted, shy and quiet. "To try, at the very least. Perhaps find a mate, too.” 

Children. You wanted children. After everything those sorcerers put you through for who knows how many years, you still wanted to mother a runt of your own. And you were willing to run off into the wild to, what, let some random man knock you up? Fill you with seed of unknown origin, unknown value, unknown potential?

Sukuna's ego flared. He leaned down to you, tilting your chin up to make you look him in the eyes regardless how small you felt in that moment. He deserved to witness you. You deserved to witness him. 

“You're not leaving,” he breathed, and he swore he could hear your heart break. “If you want a brat, you'll get a brat–only if you stay here 'n give up on those shitty thoughts of finding a sire out there.”

Your eyes scanned his face, tracing over serious lines and honest creases. Clearly, you searched for an answer–

“How?” 

–one that Sukuna didn’t have. Or maybe he did. Perhaps he just couldn't find the words for it. 

He scoffed and ruffled up your hair, unable to answer you. “You're not leaving. Not unless I say so.” 

The first time he let you go, he left scars. 

He found you in your chambers come early evening. Your tails swished and flicked as you sat amidst a nest of his robes and the missing linens from his chambers while you futzed over the embroidery of another haori, this time adorning the plain thing with the darkest scarlet one could find. Sukuna could already guess why. 

Your being burns as wildfires do. Lively. Emphatically. Devouring more and more so long as the earth lets you. Yet where you do not lay ruin, you grant warmth and light in a divine way. Wildfires are not such horrible things if one stays a respectable ways away. 

Your poetic nonsense irritated him to no end, but he fell enamored all the same; you spoke to honor him with every utterance of his name. You didn't try to kiss his feet nor did you bask him in compliments–you only spoke into existence that which hummed through your mind, unprovoked. It just so happened to be everything Sukuna liked to hear. 

So when he found you secluded away, beckoning so sweetly with intoxicating scents of citrus and gardenia, what choice did he have but to lay claim, to give you the brat you so sorely yearned for?  

You sensed him. Your gaze flicked to him, stoic and unmoved as ever, as the energy in the room built into suffocating silence, something like tectonic plates caught in deadlock, holding their disastrous energy, waiting for the right moment to devastate the world with a single, cataclysmic shift.

And of course, it was the impatient predator that moved first, setting a catastrophe into motion. 

The hours blurred together. 

Every minute of the chase was thrilling, invigorating, surprising–you were filled with tricks and traps, never slowing down for a second to think or doubt as the beast of a sorcerer pursued you through his palace, through the city below, and now into the looming forest in the mountains. 

Admittedly, he'd gotten carried away. He lost himself in the rush of it all, the adrenaline and pure, destructive desire pushed his self-control into unraveling just the slightest bit; honest attacks tore through space and time, hoping to maim and cripple you if they were to hit. And, honestly, the way you avoided his attempts to strike you down enthralled him as much as it enraged him–he was seconds away from unleashing his domain until a less-than-satisfying ripple of cursed energy tore across your thigh and put you down.

It was then, walking up to you, to his prey, that Sukuna remembered you weren't a sorcerer. Most would be able to stand and walk it off, maybe even heal with reverse technique, but you could only grasp at your weeping wound and grimace. Because you were not a sorcerer, you were a kitsune: a trickster, a creature full of mischief and void of cursed energy. 

Yokai. Not a human. Not a curse. Not like the rest of the boring souls wandering his earth. 

Sukuna pinned you the second you tried to make a break for it. Fangs and claws gnashed and tore into him while his hands strained to keep you down and rip those damn clothes free from your burning skin. 

Mating's never a pretty thing when it comes to nature. Humans like you made it something more.

Sukuna clasped a hand over your mouth and forced his weight onto you, ripping reedy yowls from your core as you twisted and turned, primal mind urging you to run, run, run, don't make this easy, make him prove his worth–

Rip.

Ribbons of what were once your robes fluttered to the ground, useless and unsalvageable. They were plain black, so unlike what you usually wore. You wouldn't miss them. 

“Make this as difficult as you want, pet,” Sukuna whispered as he loomed over you. His hand slid from your mouth to your throat when you stilled.  

“You know how this ends.” 

His pants were pulled down while another hand wiped slippery blood against your pliant entrance–and that was the only warning you got before he pushed into you. 

Where you should have screamed, you instead sighed. Your back arched off the ground like a work of art. Two hands gave up on holding you down in favour of gripping your waist and hips, pulling you closer to him, forcing you flush against his body. 

He noticed it then: a litany of old scars and discoloured marks shining against your skin. Marks left by those who did not deserve to taste such a delicacy. 

Unsightly.

Blood painted the grass. Cleaves and slashes ate away at those tainted scars, painting over the ugliness left hidden for too long–now, his marks would decorate you. Now, those hidden scars would mean something. They’d mean everything. 

Yet Sukuna's selfish maiming wasn't fitting the bill, and your antsy-ness was proof of it. You tried for the last time to pull from him, but his grip tightened around your throat. You gazed at him, then, eyes so wide and hungry, eager to fight or fuck–whichever came first. 

He braced over you and nearly winced as he dragged out of your suffocating heat. A sharp snap back inside loosened you, the glide of blood and slick aiding him. 

“I'll take you the way you need it,” he drawled as he built the pace quickly, already feeling his own obsession and excitement reverberating through his body, filling every fibre of muscle with electricity.

“Then,” he growled, leaning closer to your face. “I'll fuck you the way you want it.”

“More,” you sighed, digging your nails into the pillow you had your face buried in while the beast fucked you from behind. Sukuna groaned in compliance and lanced into your guts deeper, harder, faster than before–you were the only one that could handle the brutal way he let loose, and he was more than willing to indulge in that privilege. 

The hands all over you rose to the occasion, too; one had your tails fisted in his ruthless grasp, rudely holding you still and pulling you back against his hips; another rested on the curve of your ass, only moving to give a sharp slap or to knead your soft, perfect skin; the last two held your hips in a crushing force, his calloused fingers digging into your plush sides and sharp hip bones like you might disappear at any second. 

A sharp, sweet whine signaled the beginning of the end, as did the restless fidgeting and shifting in the king's grasp. Seeing you, a poised, powerful, mischievous being, come undone beneath him came to be one of Sukuna’s favourite sights, especially knowing it could only be because of him--only him. 

He leaned over you, his heavy chest pressing into your back as one hand released your waist in favour of fisting in your hair and tugging your head back and out of the futon you so desperately clung to. 

“Ah-ah,” he scolded breathily. “No hiding.” It was a familiar sentiment, one he had no problem reminding you of now and again. You had a horrible habit of trying to vanish when overwhelmed, after all. 

“Terrible beast,” you snapped back, scoffing indignantly when the deep bassy laugh of the man rolled through your body. “Horrible.” 

“You love it,” Sukuna growled back, grinning through every word. 

Something about it clearly struck a chord with you, judging by how fast you choked on your voice and came undone, legs trembling and body tightening around the too-big intrusion. The king groaned and bit at your neck, licking whatever blood beaded at the surface in between rushed, hushed words of praise for you and your efforts–most, if they heard the things he said, would call it out of character for the beast. Most didn't get to see beyond his raw power and crippling cruelty, however. 

Sukuna grunted and spilled inside you, pulling you back by your hair, hips and tail to ensure he forced every bit of his offerings deep into your core. Your body rocked and twitched against his, accepting all he had to offer you at the end of yet another coupling, before he let go of your locks and let you collapse face-first into the futon. 

He pulled out slowly, watching as every inch slipped from your abused hole before popping free and uncorking a dribble of whiteness from inside. He tutted and scooped it up with two fingers before stuffing it back in. 

“Oi, oi, are you even trying to keep it in?” He teased, smirking as you huffed. 

“You've exhausted me. I have no energy to attempt the impossible,” you lamented, nuzzling your nose further into the soft sheets smelling of cedar and fresh blooms–something so uniquely Sukuna. 

Your king sighed and gave your ass a firm few pats. “Guess I'll have to spoil you even more.” He settled onto his back and easily pulled you onto him, yanking you up to straddle his waist right where that second mouth laid open and eager to taste you. 

“This is uncouth,” you sighed. But you rocked back against the thick, heavy tongue pressing into your pliant heat, licking deep into you with a mind and hunger of its own. 

“Seems couth enough for you,” he commented, watching you ride his centre with rapt attention. “Little harlot's getting off on this, hey? Such a needy little brat.” 

His hands smoothed up and down your legs and sides as you shamelessly chased a second high. Your hands clasped over his as he took you into his hand and stroked you back to ample stiffness, the soreness of too many rounds of fucking making you far too sensitive to touch. 

“S-Sukuna-sama,” you stammered. “I can't–”

Sukuna's head tilted with a pleased smirk. “Ho? I thought you wanted to bear children? Are my offerings not enough for you?” 

You scrunched your face up into something of a prissy glare, but the shine clinging to your lashes and the shuddering of your body against his betrayed your crumbling demeanor. Of course, he was impressed with how his fox was fairing considering everything he put you through. 

He maneuvered you onto your back, grinning as you growled and weakly struggled against him. You looked perfect–stomach swollen, hair fanned out behind you, eyes teary but unable to tear away from the creature that’d tormented you for hours upon hours with no desire to give you a break. 

“Greedy god,” Sukuna lamented. One hand came to rest on your bruised neck again, fitting around so perfectly. “Nothing’s ever fucking good enough for you.” 

“You are.” 

That gave Sukuna pause. He stared down at you, all eyes looking over you with rapt attention as he tried to think. Tried to understand. Tried to parse those words and uncover what exactly you tried to convey. 

But it didn't click. 

“Tch. You're lucky I'm a generous god,” he scolded, releasing you from your torment in favour of collapsing down beside you for some much-needed rest. Not only did your beautiful body wear him out (not that he'd admit it), but your whimsical words wore his sanity thin. The worst part was you didn't even intend to damage him so. 

“I am truly honoured to merely be in your presence,” Your voice, light and dreamy as petals fluttering, laughed, and Sukuna's soul did something odd. 

He stared at the ceiling as you shuffled beside him, quickly returning to his side, donned in one of his haori and determined to make a comfortable nest of blankets and clothes around you both for the rest of the night–ah, morning? Huh. What an ordeal. 

You curled up next to him, shoving your back firmly against his side the way you often did when resting as a fox, and Sukuna huffed. 

“Turn to me,” he commanded, and you obeyed. 

He, too, turned to face you to envelope your lithe form with invincible arms and divine protection. Your soft purrs rolled through him, settling his wild spirit into a lazy tempo of an early morning stroll through a garden filled with one sort of white orchid: 

Brassavola nadosa. “Lady of the Night.” Your calling card. Your divine essence.

"Brassavola nodosa (Lady of the Night) is a medium-sized epiphytic or lithophytic orchid species boasting extremely fragrant flowers throughout the year. The blossoms, 4 in. across (10 cm), emit a citrus fragrance at night. Each flower features long, slender, pale green or creamy-white sepals and petals and a large, heart-shaped lip sometimes adorned with purple or dark red spotting." - gardenia.net

[trans-axolotl]

ID: Intersex activist Max Beck standing in front of the American Academy of Pediatrics with a sign that says Silence=Death.

On October 26th, 1996, the first ever protest for intersex liberation in America took place when activists from Hermaphrodites With Attitude took to the streets to protest the American Academy of Pediatrics. Later memorialized as intersex awareness day, this important action was a milestone for the American intersex movement. Max Beck, one of the intersex activists from HWA, documented the entire protest and later published their recollection in the Intersex Awakening Issue of the Chrysalis Journal. The full piece is pasted under the cut.  

"But we’re here today to say we’re back, we’re no longer lost, and we’d like to offer some feedback. We’re here to say that the treatment paradigm for “managing” intersexuals is in desperate, urgent need of re-examination. We’re back to say that early surgical intervention leads to more than “just” physical scars and sexual dysfunction. We’re back to say that the lack of education and counseling for intersexuals, our families and the community at large does not lead to a blissful, healthy, well-adjusted ignorance. Rather, it too often leads to a life-threatening shroud of silence, secrecy, and self-hatred. 

I’m here representing over one hundred fifty intersexals throughout North America. One hundred fifty intersexuals are saying: Please! Listen! You doctors, you pediatric endocrinologists and urologists treating intersexuals, you nurses interacting with intersexuals and their families, listen to us! We understand intersexuality, not because we have studied the medical literature — although many of us have — not because we have performed surgeries, but because we have been grappling with intersexuality every day of our lives. We’re here to say that those who would have us believe that intersexuality is rare, cloud the issue by breaking us and separating us into narrow etiological categories which have little meaning in terms of our actual, lived experience. 

We’re here so that other intersexuals can find us — for many of us, finding others like ourselves has been a lifealtering, even life-saving, experience. We’re here to reach parents before their intersex child is born. We’re here to elicit the help of other sympathetic professionals. We can take a stand as openly intersex adults without being crushed by shame! And we did!" 

Hermaphrodites With Attitude Take to the Streets: By Max Beck, 1997

In late October of 1996, Hermaphrodites with Attitude took to the streets, in the first public demonstration by intersexuals in modern history. On a glorious fall day, the like of which you can only find in New England, under a crackling, cloudless sky, twenty-odd protesters joined forces to picket the Annual Meeting of the American Academy of Pediatricians in Boston. Deeply aware of the historical and personal significance of the action, and — correctly — surmising that a notebook diary would not be practical on such a whirlwind, windy week-end, I took a small hand-held tape recorder with me. What follows are excerpts from the resulting transcript.

October 24, 1996 2:45 PM, Atlanta’s Hartsfield International Airport

The trip has only just begun and I am already exhausted. Hot. Starving. Fifteen minutes until take-off. Every businessman boarding the plane looks like a pediatric endocrinologist, Boston-bound. Silly thought, testimony to what? My anxiety? My fear? My giddy anticipation? If these bespectacled, suit-and-tie sporting men were pediatricians, would they be flying coach on Continental, with a layover in Newark? I’m headed for Boston, for the Annual Meeting of the American Academy of Pediatricians (AAP). Tens of thousands of pediatricians. I’m not a pediatrician, though, nor am I a nurse; in fact, I barely managed to complete my B.A. I’m a manager of a technical laboratory. We don’t work with children, and the AAP certainly didn't invite me, so why am I going?

With the plane taxiing toward take-off, this is a lousy time to reassess. I’m going. I’m going because I am intersexed. I’m going because the doctors and nurses who treated me as an infant and a child and an adolescent, and those who continue to treat intersexed infants and children today, consider me “lost to follow-up.” I was lost— that’s part of the problem. Now, I’m back.

9:02 PM: Boston’s North End

I’m comfortably ensconced in Alice’s warehouse condo in Boston’s North End, a renovated warehouse with a view of the city skyline, ceilings easily twenty feet high, exposed beams and brick, gorgeous tile floor. As I speak, my hostess is preparing an absolutely phenomenal meal. The aroma of roasted peppers permeates the entire space. Tomorrow, the work begins; my project this evening is to unwind and enjoy this wonderful meal. Easier said than done. I’m feeling excited, enervated, I feel very alive, something I don’t feel very often, I feel very present and aware. It could be my exhaustion, it could be the Chardonnay. But I think, rather, that the excitement is anticipation about what we are about to do. Being here, finally being prepared to raise a voice, to be heard, to be seen, a vocal, out, proud hermaphrodite who is standing up to say, “Let’s rethink this, this isn’t working, we’ve been hurt, stop what you’re doing, listen to us!” I’m really looking forward to meeting Morgan at the airport in the morning; it’s always amazing to make eye contact with someone else who has been there.

October 25, 7:38 AM Boston Commons

En route to my encounter with the AAP, walking the approximately two miles from my hostess’ domicile to the Marriott Hotel at Copley Square, I pause in the Boston Commons to enjoy a park bench, to sip my Starbuck’s decaf, and to watch a group of senior citizens performing Japanese swordsmanship on top of the hill beneath a monument to some forgotten general. The city is cool this morning, but clear, and it promises to be a beautiful weekend. That’s good: we won’t be rained out. I’ve got a stack of about ninety ISNA brochures in the bag at my side, crammed in the inside pocket of my leather jacket. If I want these pamphlets to get inside, I’ve got to get to the site of the Nurses’ Panel at the Marriott before they close the doors. Then it’s back out to the airport, to pick up Morgan. My feet are already killing me.

October 26, 9:15 AM: North End

Morgan and I are sitting at our hostess’ breakfast table, pulling our thoughts together. In a few minutes, we’ll have to leave to pick up Riki at the airport. The logistics of pulling together an action are mind-boggling. There’s no describing the thrill, though, of all that work, all those phone calls, all those miles. Riding a clattering subway on a Saturday morning, seated beside another living, breathing, laughing, swearing intersexual, hugging near-strangers at unfamiliar airports, then riding back, together, defiant, determined, organized, to the heart of so much of our pain, so much of our anger, so much of our need. We gathered in front of the huge Hynes Auditorium, pamphlets and leaflets in hand, and met the AAP attendees as they left the convention center for lunch. The next hour-and-a-half was a blur, as we positioned ourselves in strategic locations before the Hynes, held signs and “Hermaphrodites with Attitude” banner aloft, distributed our literature, engaged AAP members and passers-by in conversation and debate, spoke to microphones, to cameras. In all that time, I recorded only one fragment of a breathless sentence. 

Saturday, 12:20 PM Outside the Hynes

We’ve got all the exits covered, and it’s an incredible, incredibly empowering experience. I remember the words I spoke to the TV camera, if only because I had scribbled a rough outline on the airplane, pirating mightily from Cheryl’s press release. And because the moment was so salient, so real. Me, Max, bespectacled, with blisters on my feet and chapped lips, speaking out to untold numbers of invisible viewers (and a few bewildered pediatricians behind me.)

"When an intersex child is born, parents and caregivers are faced with what seems to be a terrible dilemma: here is an infant who does not fit what our society deems normal. Immediate medical intervention seems indicated, in order to spare the parents and the child the inevitable stigmatization associated with being different. Yet the infant is not facing a medical emergency; intersexuality is rarely if ever life-threatening. Rather, the psychosocial crisis of the parents and caregivers is medicalized. 

Intersexuality is assumed to be a birth defect which can be corrected, outgrown and forgotten. The experiences of members of the intersex support groups indicate that intersexuality cannot be fixed; an intersex infant grows up to be an intersex adult. This hasn’t been explored, because intersex patients are almost invariably “lost to follow-up.” The abstract of a talk that will be given at this very conference by a doctor who treats intersex infants concedes that “the psychological issues surrounding genital reconstruction are inadequately understood.”

Part of the problem is that we were lost to follow-up, and there were reasons for that. But we’re here today to say we’re back, we’re no longer lost, and we’d like to offer some feedback. We’re here to say that the treatment paradigm for “managing” intersexuals is in desperate, urgent need of re-examination. We’re back to say that early surgical intervention leads to more than “just” physical scars and sexual dysfunction. We’re back to say that the lack of education and counseling for intersexuals, our families and the community at large does not lead to a blissful, healthy, well-adjusted ignorance. Rather, it too often leads to a life-threatening shroud of silence, secrecy, and self-hatred. I’m here representing over one hundred fifty intersexals throughout North America.

One hundred fifty intersexuals are saying: Please! Listen! You doctors, you pediatric endocrinologists and urologists treating intersexuals, you nurses interacting with intersexuals and their families, listen to us! We understand intersexuality, not because we have studied the medical literature — although many of us have — not because we have performed surgeries, but because we have been grappling with intersexuality every day of our lives. We’re here to say that those who would have us believe that intersexuality is rare, cloud the issue by breaking us and separating us into narrow etiological categories which have little meaning in terms of our actual, lived experience. We’re here so that other intersexuals can find us — for many of us, finding others like ourselves has been a lifealtering, even life-saving, experience. We’re here to reach parents before their intersex child is born. We’re here to elicit the help of other sympathetic professionals. We can take a stand as openly intersex adults without being crushed by shame! And we did!

7:20 PM: Boston’s North End

Goddess, this is so sweet, so liberating! I was so reluctant a week ago, having my Jesus-in-Gethsemane experience, reluctant to accept — not an onus or responsibility but — to accept who I am. And here’s where the hard work really begins. I’m exhausted when I think of the road before us. But then, it’s nothing like the road behind us. 

Max Beck, 1997.