#I don't know if this makes any sense but it's what's going through my head

[natailiatulls07]

New wag in the paddock

Summary - Being the newest wag in the paddock can be quite daunting but with the right people around you, it's all okay

Warning - None <3

A/n - Slowly easing back into writing?? We'll see lol

-

Walking into the paddock with beyond nerve racking, with photographers just inside of the entrance and fans just outside of the entrance - I had no where to hide or breathe.

Luckily walking alongside me with Rebecca Donaldson, Carlos' partner. Because of our partners friendship, we were close friends. She had become someone who'd help me and become like a sister to me in the paddock and even beyond.

This morning particularly she had come over to mine and Landos suite to help me get ready for my first paddock day just after him and Carlos had left. Helping with picking out a gorgeous dress, helping with my makeup and also my hair. Like my own fairy godmother in a way.

'Wow there's a lot of people here...' I whisper in her direction, my eyes took in the busyness of a Sunday morning race day paddock. Next to me, I feel her laugh - She's used to this.

With a soft nod and a slip of an arm round my back, Rebecca is quick to reply. 'Yep it's a race day in Miami, you'll get used to it...' I feel her gently pushing me along, prompiting me not to run back out and go back to the safety of the hotel.

-

It wasn't long before she dropped me off at the McLaren hospitality. Wishing me good luck with a hug and a warm smile before I stand pathically watching her leave me to defend for myself - Almost like a child would whilst being dropped off for their first day of school. In a sense, it was exactly that; I had been dropped off and know expected to make friends until someone I knew would come and safe me.

I breathe in, turn on my heel and walk quietly into the McLaren hospitality. Inside it's modern and high tech, obviously very well thought out. There are multiple seating areas, some small groups accompanying a couple. I can smell fresh coffee as I walk over to a small sofa, sitting there anxiously.

Opening my phone, I can already see multiple notification from various social platforms. I hazard a guess that they are mostly all gossip sites tagging me in their posts.

But one notification stands out to me.

It's on instagram, informing me that I've been added to a groupchat. More specifically a groupchat for the f1 wags. My heart warms at their consideration and kindness, so this is what it feels like to be in a big friendship group of girls.

Soon a few messages start to load into the chat;

lilymhe - Heyyy Y/n! Welcome to the group, this is a safe space for you always xx

francisca.cgomes - Yeah all the girls are in this group so we all gossip, vent and help out in here! Girls support girls obv <3

carmenmmundt - Hi sweetheart!

kellypiquet - Literally if you need anything, send a quick message here and we'll help always x

alexandrasaintmleux - Babes I just saw the photos, you look STUNNING!!! <333

I don't even the big smile that forms on my lips, the feeling of acceptance heavy on my mind. Accidently I don't notice the person in front of me until I hear a soft cough. Looking up I recogise Lando trainer, Jon, stood waiting patiently with a small smile. I gasp at my oblivion. 'Oh my gosh, I'm sorry! You haven't been stood there long, gosh how oblivious can I get?' I nervously ramble.

I've only met him a hand full of times and to keep him waiting felt very rude of me. A soft chuckle escapes his lips as he shakes his head, prompting me to breathe out a sigh of relief.

'No don't worry, I came to get you cause you're boyfriend wants to see you before the race starts...' He explains, watching as I quickly gather my things - I don't want to keep him waiting any longer. 'Hey, no need to rush...' He chuckles, sensing my nerves. It'd be hard not to.

Notable I slow down, no longer rushing to collect myself. I let out a soft sigh, a smile screwing itself onto my lips. And once I have everything, I let Jon lead the way through to Landos garage.

As soon as we walk into the garage, my eyes are immediately drawn to Lando who is stood talking to a few engineers. With his classic smile on his face, something I really do adore is watching as he talks about his job - He really does love it, possible more than me.

I stand there for a few seconds, not wanting to intrude on his conversation. Around me the team work around the garage, clearly buzzing with pre race excitement, nerves and preparation - Something Jon went along with when we arrived.

Then suddenly, I feel eyes on me and I notice Lando walking towards me enthusiastically. As soon as I am in arms reach, I feel his arms slip comfortably around my waist. 'Hi...' I smile, slipping my own arms around his neck. 'How are you doing?'

Lando takes a few seconds, just staring lovingly at me before smirking. 'Good, better now that you're here. How did this morning go? You and Rebecca get here alright?' He questioned, very grateful that I had someone to join this morning.

I nod keenly, moving on to explain about my morning as my hand start to play with some of his mullet. 'Oh I was added to the wag groupchat, they're all really nice people. They said that I can talk to them about anything and ask for advice you know. I've only really met Rebecca so they don't they even know me but they still like accept me, I thought that was the sweet thing ever...' Unintentionally I go onto ramble about the other wags befriending me, only really stopping when I notice his gaze and gentle warm smile. 'Sorry I'm rambling...'

Looking around us, I can see some engineers watching curiously. A mix of his gaze on me, my realization and the engineers watching all make me blush deeply. 'No it's okay...'

His british cuts through my thoughts, reassuring me. 'I'm really happy that you got them beside you, they know what you're going through a lot more than I will ever so that's great!' One of his hands moves up to caress my cheek lovingly.

A comfortable silence falls on us for a few seconds, before I speak up once again. 'So are you ready for the race today? Is the car good?' I ask, despite not really understanding the sport I'm desperate to learn through Lando.

He turns, watching as the engineers do their final preperations and work and nodding confidently. 'Yeah all good! I've got my good luck charm with me and the car is set to do magic today!' Even the way he explains everything, there is a lot of excitement in his voice. I nod, careful to take in all the information he's telling me.

Our conversation continues for a few more minutes before he's notified that he has to make a move to get the car out onto the track. Quick Lando turns back towards me, smiling and pulling me into a tender kiss. 'I love you! Wish me luck!'

I return the same energy and excitement. 'Good luck Lan! You've got this! I love you too!'

-

1.2K

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Trinkets

Five presents Jason brought you back from his adventures and one you asked for. (+ one) ~1.2k words of fluff

Jason Todd brings you home gifts from his missions, which wouldn't be a problem, but he never really explains what they are.

The first time it happened, you had laughed at the green ring with a lantern symbol in the middle. It looked cheesy, like one of the fake ones you can buy from the superhero merch stores littered around malls and outlets.

You'd kissed his cheek in thanks, put it on your shelf, and never gave it a second thought.

At least you didn't, until a bright green glow woke you up from your sleep. You'd sat up immediately, jaw practically dropping to the sheets as the ring lifted itself off your shelf and flew out the window.

Jason barely budged, his arm still thrown over your waist. He let out yawn and cuddled closer before speaking, voice groggy and heavy, "Huh. Didn't think they noticed that one was gone."

"They," You half yell, voice pitching as you stare at his outline, hidden in the shadows of the room.

"The Guardians, babe," he yawns out, "They're in charge of the space cops. Just go back to sleep."

Naturally, you do not go back to sleep. You drag him to the kitchen, make tea, and demand he explains why a Green Lantern ring was in your apartment. (He's very happy to)

The second time it happens, you're much more wary of the gift he brings home. But to be fair, he can't really pass off an Amazonian steel sword as something he just picked up.

It doesn't take as much convincing as it should for you to let him mount it on your wall. But it's a sword! No one can blame you for thinking it looks cool in your living room.

It turns out keeping it around is pretty useful, because a few weeks later, your boyfriend crawls through your window, dressed head to toe in armor.

"Hey, doll," he drawls, "Can I borrow your sword?"

"Sure," You chirp back, more preoccupied with your book as he saunters over to the sword, "what for?"

"Artie's got confiscated, and we haven't gotten to steal it back yet," he supplies, stopping long enough to pull his helmet up and kiss your head.

"Oh, that sucks," You answer, offhandedly, "Give her and Bizzaro my love."

"You got it, babe," he chirps already halfway out your window.

He does bring your sword back, covered in green blood, but no worse for wear. It still looks great on your wall.

He brings you a box next. It's kind of ugly looking, but you thank him nonetheless.

"Be careful with it," he tells you as you flip it over in your hands, "It opens boom tubes."

You almost drop it, and if you hadn't already experienced the power ring, you would have shrieked at him. Instead, you manage to put it down very carefully and calmly ask, "It does what?"

"Open boom tubes," he answers, which clears absolutely nothing up, "I figured we could use it to country hop for our next date night. You know, dinner in Paris, drinks in Dubai, dessert in LA."

"Okay," You answer slowly, as if that makes complete sense.

It turns out, it does. Date night is lovely, and making out with your boyfriend on a random beach in Spain is very, very nice.

Batman waiting in your apartment to take back the boom box isn't so nice, though.

Jason tells you it was worth it. He's absolutely right.

The third thing Jason brings you is a plant. Flowers aren't a rare show of affection from him, but ones that move are.

"Uh, thank you, Jason," You start, prodding at the moving petals, they nuzzle your fingers the same way a kitten would, "But I don't know how to take care of these."

"Same way you take care of any other plant, water, fertilizer, nutrients, all that fun stuff," he says fondly, stroking a few of the petals.

"What if it gets sick," You ask, uncertain.

"We'll call Ivy," he says, unbothered.

"Right. Ivy. Poison Ivy. Who you know," You mumble, but the little plant is already worming its way into your heart. (You affectionately name it Daisy, for no other reason then it sways happily when you say that name)

The fourth thing Jason brings you makes you laugh because you know exactly what it is, "Jason, we can't keep this."

"Why not," he pleads, shaking the bright green quiver filled with arrows at you.

You giggled harder, smiling wide as you shake your head at him, "We don't even know what those do. Don't some of those explode?"

"So what," he huffs, practically pouting, "We can ask Roy. And it's not like I don't know my way around explosives."

"I guess so," You relent, trying to stifle your laughs as you inspect the bright green arrows, "How did you even get this?"

His eyes light up mischievously, "Do you really want to know?"

You stop short and narrow your eyes at him, "I would lose my plausible deniability."

"But you wanna know," he says, sly and playful.

You do. (It involves mutated chickens, tar, and one distracted Oliver Queen. You hang the quiver next to the sword)

Jason's getting ready to leave, bags packed and helmet lazy held under his arm, "Can I bring you back anything specific, doll" he asks, his free hand resting comfortably against your cheek, "Lasso of Truth? Maybe something with magic?"

You grin at him, leaning into his touch, "I actually do have something in mind."

"Oh," he prompts, eyes glinting with excitement.

"I want to complete my batarang collection."

He falters, "Your– what?"

"No one has," You exclaim, pulling away to showcase your collection, "I have Nightwings, Batgirls, Batmans, yours, of course, one of Robin's. But I'm missing Spoilers, Batwomans, Signals, and Red Robins."

He blinks at you, "That's– if that's what you want."

You giggle at how dumbfounded he looks, practically bouncing back over to him to kiss him, "Thank you, Jason."

He catches your waist and pulls you back in for another, longer kiss that leaves you both breathless and panting. His voice lowers, like it's a secret, "I'll bring you back some batarangs. See you in a few days?"

"See you in a few days," You echo, and he winks at you as he tugs on his helmet, leaving out your window.

Sure enough, you get your batarangs when he gets home. It takes some convincing, a few kisses that leave you senseless, but you get Jason to help you mount your batarang collection alongside the sword and quiver.

"I should get you a plasma rifle next," he drawls, admiring your growing wall of weapons.

"I think I'd fall over if I tried to shoot one of those," You point out, all smiles.

"I'll teach you," he tells you, hooking an arm around your waist to draw you closer.

Jason's a man of his word, and sure enough, he brings you home a plasma cannon after his next mission.

You only destroy most of the shooting range in the batcave when he lets you try it out.

[heich0e]

rintarou's sheets are scratchy.

they're new, and haven't yet gone through the wash enough times to properly soften. they haven't been slept on enough times to be fully broken in. you know he bought them because you always used to tease him about his old sheets: faded with some holes in them—a mismatched fitted sheet and top sheet in two different shades of blue, unbefitting of a grown man making grown man money.

so, he got new ones.

these new sheets are green, in the exact shade you like so much—the one you always point out when the two of you are walking in the park near your office on your lunch break. he sent you a picture of the package when he got them home, fishing for praise you refused to give him for doing the bare minimum. they're nice sheets, though. expensive, organic cotton with a high thread count.

but right now, they're scratchy.

and they're irritating you as you lay tangled up in them, the top sheet wrapped around your waist like a belt and twisted around one of your bare legs. you must have been tossing and turning a lot in your sleep, because when you properly rouse from your slumber to take inventory of your surroundings, the first thing you notice is that you're practically knotted into the stiff, new cotton.

you extract yourself from the blankets, stumbling a little towards the door in a fog, and make your way from rintarou's bedroom in the direction of the kitchen.

"oh," rintarou perks up once you appear around the corner, his eyes bright when they spot you. "you're up."

you shuffle around the kitchen counter towards him, your head heavy and pounding, your mouth dry. you feel nauseated, and without thinking, you slump against him with your forehead pressing into the valley between his shoulder blades. you're confused. you're hungover. but he's warm, and smells like laundry detergent. suddenly you feel a little less queasy.

"what's going on?" you grumble into his back. you peel yourself away from him, blinking slowly, and sweep your gaze around the room to get a better sense of things.

suna holds up a frying pan and a whisk. "i'm cooking!"

you blink again. "okay?"

it's not what you meant when you asked him your first question, but rintarou simply smiles. he has an almost puppy-like personality when he gets like this—you can almost picture ears atop his head and a tail wagging happily as he stares down at you.

"how'd i get here last night?"

rintarou freezes, but only for a moment. he quickly turns his back to you again to continue on whatever misguided culinary adventure he'd been attempting before you woke up. "you were pretty drunk."

"my seniors kept egging me on," you complain, rubbing your forehead as the hazy memory surfaces from the night before. it was a company dinner you couldn't get out of, and it had quickly spiralled out of hand. "i don't even remember leaving."

rintarou laughs a little. but he still won't look at you.

"suna."

he doesn't turn, whisking something you can't identify but that you're almost certain should not be whisked in a bowl in front of him on the counter.

"suna." you repeat yourself again.

suddenly, a wave of nausea overtakes you.

no.

no.

you pat yourself down in search of your phone, but the attempt is useless. you're dressed in one of rintarou's t-shirts and boxers, neither of which come equipped with any pockets, and your phone is nowhere to be found. you whip your head around in search of it, but don't spot it anywhere in the immediate vicinity.

"hey—" rintarou finally looks at you when he senses your alarm, and his tone mirrors your own panic. "don't—!"

you swipe his cellphone off the counter in front of him, using the passcode you'd managed to weasel out of him a few months ago to unlock the device and navigate to his call log. you take off running as you tap your way through the various screens on his phone, but he's quickly in pursuit of you—leaving whatever he'd had on the stove to burn like he world's saddest funeral pyre.

"stop, stop!" rintarou is faster than you are, and has longer legs, but even by the time he catches you, you've already found what you're looking for in his call history. he snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you down onto his sofa with him in the living room, and the two of you land in a tangle of limbs against the cushions, your breathing laboured.

"i didn't make this call, did i?" you ask meekly, pointing at a brief call in the late hours of the night prior that sits at the top of his call history. it's from your number, but you're confident you hadn't been the one to dial.

rintarou pouts a little bit, avoiding your eyes. after a moment he shakes his head. you groan, rolling over on the sofa underneath him and hiding your face in your hands.

"i wasn't even there long, i promise," rintarou says, his voice impossibly close because of the way the two of you are sprawled across the sofa. his breath is warm against the column of your throat when he speaks.

you refuse to look at him.

"i didn't even say anything embarassing."

you still don't budge.

"i made sure to thank your coworkers for calling me to come get you and everything."

your hangover has been overtaken by your own mortification, a horrible heat creeping up your face to accompany the taste of bile in your throat. you've been so, so careful not to let your relationship and your career overlap thus far. so cautious about introducing rintarou into parts of your life that would make it even harder to face if or when the time came that he wasn't around anymore.

"are you embarrassed of me?"

his question makes your chest ache. the way he says it twists the knife.

you lift your face from your hands and peek at him over your shoulder. he's so close that your noses almost brush.

"no." you mean it.

the anxiety in rintarou's gaze eases. he presses closer.

"you sure?"

you narrow your eyes at him. "depends. were you wearing that awful yellow track suit?"

rintarou laughs, all breath, and then dips down to kiss you softly. you want to complain that you haven't even brushed your teeth yet, or that you kind of feel like you might be sick, or that whatever he was trying to cook is on the brink of burning down the building. but you don't. you just let him rest on top of you. you let yourself enjoy it.

when he finally pulls away, rintarou has a somewhat sly smile on his face.

"what, rin?" you ask him gently.

"just wondering if now that i've met your coworkers you're going to let me come visit you at lunch, or if you're still gonna make me hide in the park."

"i like the park," you pout.

because the park is green, the colour you like so much. like rintarou's scratchy bedsheets. and his eyes.

"okay, okay," he laughs, pressing his forehead against yours. "i like the park, too."

[tragedy-of-commons]

GWEN POOKIE POOKIE IM SO PROUD OF YOU !!! CONGRATS ON GETTING 200 💥💥💥 YOU DESERVE SOSOSO MUCH !!

as for your prompt, can i get a "that was but a moment of weakness. think nothing of it." with dan feng? romantic please bc lord im starving of dan feng content

AGAIN, CONGRATS ON 200!! HERES TO YOUR FOLLOWER EVENT GOING BOOM BOOM BOOM <333

"That was but a moment of weakness. Think nothing of it."

Dan Feng's words echo into an ensuing chasm of silence. You're getting real tired of this whole back and forth, but you have to hold your tongue - the High Elder would not like to be called out on his lie so easily.

...even if his tail is wrapped snugly around your waist, and his austere countenance is plagued by a tinge of pink.

"Really? You're not known for being weak," you jab, unable to help yourself. Being 'your roguish self' in his presence is inevitable.

Dan Feng's tail unhands you, lashing side to side before stilling. His quarters are unlike anything you've ever seen, really; opulent cushions and fabrics making up the (multiple) chaises, a vanity littered with vibrant lotus blooms, and a subtle air of cloudhymn magic buzzing about each nook and cranny.

Even though you've been let in here at least a dozen times, it still feels like you're trespassing on sacred ground.

"A lapse in judgment, then," he supplies, taking a few purposeful strides towards the highlight of the chambers themselves - the vanity. "It happens to the best of us, despite what you may believe."

You watch as he sits down, ramrod straight. When he starts to tap his foot impatiently, you groan and slink over.

Dan Feng, Imbibitor Lunae, High Elder of the Vidyadhara, Guardian of Scalegorge Waterscape... is utterly enchanting. Your own reflection fades into white noise in the image of the mirror, subdued by his presence alone.

Without making him wait any longer, you pick up the familiar hairbrush within reach, beginning to comb through his tresses delicately. Whenever you snag on a minute tangle, he stiffens in warning before you curb the knot.

You hum. "Well, then I'm glad it happened to you, Esteemed One. Without your 'lapse in judgment', I'd have been doomed to my next incarnation much earlier than I would've liked."

You're referring to the incident that took place earlier today. On a stroll with the High Elder himself, a banditry of rebels and mutineers attempted to assassinate Dan Feng, and by extension, you as well.

It went by in a flash; one second, you were holding his hand and chatting about something as mundane as the scenery - the next, you were shoved behind his back as four Vidyadhara, your own kind, jumped out of the shadows, hungry to further their agenda.

The speed at which he ran Cloud-Piercer through them all was unbelievable. Seconds had gone by, not a hair on your head out of place, yet the enemies lied vanquished on the ground. Finally, Dan Feng had turned to you afterward, scanning you for any signs of injury with a pinched brow.

He almost looked panicked then. No high and mighty quips, no diluted sarcasm, no nothing! It was strange, to say the least.

News had spread like wildfire, and after rushing through the appropriate procedures, Dan Feng stuck to you like glue. He often says that he likes to keep you close so you don't fall into a crevice and perish, but this is different.

He protected you and your honor with his life. He pulled you close with his tail during the following hours - an intimate act usually reserved for lovers, neurotically monitoring anyone who got too close to you, baring just a hint of fang.

You know he cares for you in his own way, but this is dizzying.

"...you are exempt from referring to me by formal title," he sobers you from your thoughts, likely sensing your distress. After all, healers such as him are constantly attuned to other people's wavelengths. "It was nothing. There is no need to be grateful."

That response also strikes you as odd. Usually, Dan Feng basks in your praise and gratitude. Now, he's almost humble, whispering so only you can hear him.

Perhaps, in the depths of that statement, he's leaving an underlying message for you to pick up on. Something possibly along the lines of:

Don't be grateful. I could've lost you.

Your grip on the silver handle of the brush tightens. "If you say so."

The remaining knots are lightwork, Dan Feng's hair pooling around his pointed ears, now silky and smooth. His eyes are closed, posture relaxed and statuesque. When you do get to see him like this, it's always healing in its own right.

Experimentally, you brush your fingers over the nape of his neck. Sparkling teal scales adorn the skin there, responsive to your gentle touch. They flare at the intrusive sensation before calming, passively granting you permission to continue.

"That was the first time you were with me when an attempt on my life had been made," he cracks open his eyes, gazing at your reflection instead of his own. "I can't guarantee it won't happen again."

"I'm aware."

You set the hairbrush back onto the vanity, task completed. At this point in the routine, you'd normally excuse yourself to go about your own obligations.

But now? You remain rooted behind a man that you desperately want to love, just a little bit more.

"Something is on your mind," Dan Feng cuts in, "I suggest you voice your concerns."

He knows you just as well as you know him, even if he acts above vulnerability and the baggage that comes with it. Ghosting your fingers up the slope of his skin and through his dark locks, you sigh. Translating your turmoil into words has never been an easy feat.

Your hand now rests in between his regal horns, unsure. You've never so recklessly tested the waters before - but you need answers. You want to know, desperately, if he views you in the same light that you bestow upon him.

"Dan Feng," you whisper, admiring the appendages and their luminescent glow. They match the rest of him perfectly, and you've always imagined what it'd be like to touch them - to revere them. Gentle sea green, molded into branch-like coral.

"May I?" you hope.

When the Imbibitor Lunae's response comes, it's sweet, chased by a resigned sigh that tells you all you need to know.

"If you so wish."

Initially, you feel the telltale vibrations of him shuddering as you make yourself known as his lover. Today, in some other universe, Dan Feng might have lost you. But in this one, where you're both intertwined in the best possible way?

There is not a chance he can get rid of you so easily.

🏷️: @akutasoda, @aviiarie, @lowkeyren

a/n: your wish is my command, miss illu :3 your support brings a tear to this old clown's eye... but thank you, really! almost done with all the requests, and i hope you enjoy what i did with dan feng. never written for him before, but your writing served as inspo ^^

event post here

[idontliekmondays]

excerpts from lindsay's old classmate

1.28.13 I have really tried to like Lilith but after two weeks with her I can't. My thinking on it is she hasn't given a reason to like her. It's more like she tries to complain, storm off, be rude, and ignore the rest of us as much as she can. Her special skill is that she can walk anywhere in high heels.

2.05.13 Lilith did not get any roti because she decided to stay in her room the whole day.

Dance lessons. And a full shot of me in uniform. Thai dancing does not require a lot of movement so it can be done in a pencil skirt. Left side, front to back: Deanna, Me, Donna, Lilith. Right side: Dance teacher, Karen.

2.07.13 (I have mentioned before that Lilith gets motion sick. So today instead of getting in the front seat like she's supposed to she climbed in the back of the songthaew with everyone else. The whole time I'm praying in my head "Don't throw up everywhere, don't throw up everywhere" because she started looking sick about half-way through the trip back. I really do not understand her logic).

Drexler is forcing Lilith to go to yoga or meditation (it's so nice she's paying all this money to go to another country to sit in her room on the computer all day.)

2.08.13 More creepy messages from Lilith's talking horse doodle today. She told us that she gets all these from a tumblr account called Crazy Horse(?). I also don't think she gets what all of them mean, because the horse's first message today was "Pumpkin Jokes.PDF". Really confused on that one. She erased that and had the horse say "Becoming a bounty hunter is not easy but I am here." I can see these two coming from a tumblr account, though they make zero sense to me. She then drew a dog and gave it this dialogue "Timid little girls she never put fairies on the summer gathering place for the Nazi elite." I'm really getting freaked out by some of her messages and was very thankful when Ajan Pranut (our afternoon teacher today) erased them.

2.11.13 Watched Lilith fight with a bee for her cake. She hates insects so she literally flew from her chair to get away from it. Then thought swearing would shoo it away. The bee cared more about the cake.

2.13.13 Originally I was going to say writer but Lilith wants to be a writer (today's creepy horse message was "Bring me all the people and I will make sure they are burning." Don't think I want to see anymore of her work)

When everyone returned we had a review session (except Niko and Lilith because her boyfriend broke up with her today. Most of us had to take a moment to go "You had a boyfriend??").

2.14.13 Last post I said Lilith's boyfriend broke up with her. Today she was excused from half of our midterm because she told Drexler she was up all night. Later, Donna informed me that she had downed a whole bottle of wine to help deal with her feelings. That's definitely healthy (sarcasm).

2.15.13 Drexler informed me he was forcing Lilith and myself to go to Tai Chi today with his wife Barbara.

Lilith stood there most of the time refusing to follow the movements and afterwards said "It wasn't her thing". For those who know Lilith at Coe, I saw her wearing ballet flats today, not heels!!

We complained about Lilith and Donna told us the funny story of how at Multicultural fusion orientation, where every African American freshman was, Lilith announced that she hated black people during her introduction. If you ever wanted a stupid idea, here's one of the dumbest ones ever. She has not been invited back since.

2.18.13 Lilith grossed everyone at her table out by hogging the delicious fried chicken, eating it with her fingers, and dipping her spoon (the only utensil that goes in your mouth besides chopsticks) into the soup. I feel Barbara has caught on to her.

Some of the people I'm here with. From left to right: Lilith, Niko, our guide/the Dean, Alessa. This temple was at the second ruins. I think it was a temple.

2.20.13 Forgot about going to Tai Chi today so got going a little later than planned. Lilith did not join us this time (my prayers have been answered!!) so she will be forced to go to yoga or something else. Barbara is the type of teacher who believes that if we talk to her we will realize she's just shy, not a bad person. This makes me remember she has a Hitler poster in her single at Coe. I don't think we'll be painting each others toe nails and gossiping about boys any time this lifetime. Or the next.

2.22.13 On the way back from buying detergent I walked past Lilith who made a point of ignoring me. I get the feeling she doesn't want to be friends.

2.28.13 Lilith's creepy horse message of the day was "Is the dance floor calling? No."

Lilith, who's half Laotian and this was her first time visiting Laos, spent her time in her room on her computer. Again I wonder why she came on this trip.

3.03.13 The other skit was... awkward. Lilith was randomly sitting on the ground talking about absinthe and Deanna happily stormed out at the end.

3.11.13 I had to sit by Lilith who dressed herself as a hooker. If my grandma saw the way she was dressed, that would be the first word out of her mouth. She bought some platform high heels that don't have a heel. I will take a creeper picture when I get the chance because they are so outrageous. They look like Lady Gaga shoes as a better description.

3.15.13 One thing I did edit out was how completely disgusting and rude Lilith was today. She actually belched at one of the Vietnamese students. Her behavior ranged from obnoxious to 'I was raised in a cave by monkeys'. The students were very concerned that she wasn't having fun.

3.18.13 Watched Drexler try to talk to Lilith about some issues that she has been causing but we watched their body language get more and more closed so it was probably not successful.

3.26.13 When you get out of an elevator it is a common prank to push all the other buttons. Instead, I pushed all the buttons on the way up to our floor. Deanna and Donna took it as a joke but you could feel the loathing rolling off Lilith in waves so much it scared the others. I am not sad to say it made me happy to make her angry. I am a terrible person, but she is worse. One story the host students keep talking about often is how when Lilith showed up at her host's house she asked for potato chips. When none were given she asked to be taken to the bar.

3.30.13 Had to sit by Lilith. Again. I'm starting to believe that I am put in charge of her, that Drexler thinks I can handle this responsibility.

We are the first Asia Term to come here. It's all thanks to Lilith who's half Laotian and her dad wanting her to meet his side of the family. That's happening tomorrow. Perhaps getting sick suddenly would be the ideal way to deal with meeting a family of Nazis. This is her first time meeting her dad's family so we are expecting her to hate them immensely and the day to be awkward or they will make her their new leader.

3.31.13 She decided to wear her hooker shirt today to meet her dad's family for the first time. Hope she doesn't regret that later on.

4.04.13 In previous years Asia Term has been there for a week but because Lindsay wanted to meet her relatives our time in Cambodia has been cut down.

4.25.13 Lilith has gotten on everyones last nerve. Including Drexler's. It's a good thing we're coming home in a little bit.

source

[purity-town]

Ask responses below the cut! Lots of thoughts on Terraria lore and Purity Town worldbuilding -- mostly focusing on the Crimson, the war, and Guides.

Reasons why I chose Corruption over Crimson, off the top of my head:

Artistic reasons: Chris was always going to lean towards magenta & dark blue weapons/armor where possible as a nod to the nebula pillar coloration, and I felt that it was easier to work with those colors against a purple/gray/brown background than a red one. Similarly, the purple of demonite matches the Corruption colors, making it easy to tie a visual connection between demonite and the shadow orbs' evil energy.

Personal reasons: My first world was a Corruption one, and I tend to favor Corruption in general as I like the music more.

Practical reasons: It's much, much easier to draw worms and the various other Corruption enemies than it is to draw the Crimson enemies, as the Crimson enemies are far more complicated in appearance and poses. Plus all the blood and brains puts me in an awkward spot as I don't want to run into issues with any of the websites I post the comic to.

Lore reasons: While the Brain of Cthulhu does very nicely match up with Moon Lord's actual design, it doesn't have a Mech boss associated with it, and I didn't want the Destroyer to feel like it came out of nowhere; I felt it was easier to justify the EoW being related to evil/Moon Lord in some way than the Destroyer existing in a Crimson world. The Corruption's shadow orbs also naturally tie into the idea of the "ancient spirits of light and dark" being released from the underworld, as the Crimson doesn't really convey the "dark" side of things that well. Also, the Crimson is generally associated with health while the Corruption is associated with mana, and since Chris is a mage I wanted to lean into the magic side of things.

As for my ideas with the Crimson:

Theme-wise, the blood and gore is easy to relate back to the same consuming, flesh-melding energy of blood moons. (While blood moons already have a link to Corruption/Crimson in the form of corrupt/vicious animals, the Crimson just makes more sense.) The massive skeletons in the background bring up similarities with bone serpents and wyverns/phantasm dragon, and the eyeballs with the EoC/WoF/True EoC.

Where the Corruption is more of the culmination of sin and dark thoughts and eldritch energies that twist whatever they come into contact with, the Crimson is a growing, living being that spiraled into wild mutation from eldritch energy. The Corruption naturally grows over time through additional sins giving it the power to spread, while the Crimson grows by actively consuming more and more living material; contamination vs. infection; acidic vs. corrosive.

The Crimson is a hive mind, of the sort where each new mind adds its knowledge and input to the collective, and likewise has its will overridden by the majority. At the core of it all is the Brain of Cthulhu -- intelligent, but not something that can be reasoned with or spoken to; the sort of being whose mind is so fundamentally different from a human's that anyone who comes into contact would be left mentally shattered. Much the same way one who stares into the darkness seeking to study the eldritch and bizarre could be left broken.

Where the Corruption chasms are worm tracks, I've always interpreted the Crimson chasms as a heart and the arteries spreading out from it. Or maybe the tendrils of a spreading infection? Not really sure!

Side note, the general theme (flesh/blood) and many of the monsters (face monster, crimera, blood feeder, etc.) also tie very well into the Wall of Flesh and its hunger. The justification for the WoF being so...flesh in the comic is that Andrew is a human*, and so the WoF's form is influenced by what his soul knows (flesh and blood body), mixed with lots and lots of eldritch energy giving it the visual ties to the EoC/Moon Lord in the eyes/mouth. But it's not as natural of a link as "the WoF's form is steeped in overflowing Crimson energy locked away in the center of the earth."

Instead of shattering, I imagine it would just poof into a particularly liquid-looking red smoke. Something to combine it being an immaterial/magical collection of energy with it being bloody and gory. Less of the sharp/shattered/sparkly look of shadow orbs, and something more organic and primal.

As for Crimson hearts...I suppose it's the other side of the coin of shadow orbs. Keeping with the theme of Crimson being vaguely health/damage-related while Corruption is mana-related, where shadow orbs are pustules of evil and eldritch magic, I could imagine Crimson hearts as concentrations of the life energy that's been consumed by/generated within the Crimson. Something that pulses with the hearts and minds of the countless creatures that have been incorporated into the Crimson before. Hence the panic necklace; something that fills you with adrenaline and the vitality to push forward and run for your life when hurting (compared to the band of starpower boosting your ability to channel magic).

BAD. Really, really, really bad.

The most obvious reason was all of the general destruction that the world had suffered at that point. Land masses ripped apart or twisted/distorted. Civilization shredded, infrastructure destroyed. What wasn't outright blasted to bits was warped beyond recognition or so corrupted there was no hope of salvaging what had been there before. Loss of homes means exposure to the elements, and loss of farmland means starvation; many societies crumbled or were staggered by the loss of vital industries and resources.

The main surviving communities were small subsets of what were once larger cultures. They were the ones lucky enough to have enough resources nearby to be self-sustaining -- cities had it the worst, requiring resources to be brought in from elsewhere, while more remote communities tended to be affected the least. Andrew, for instance, grew up in a very small community out on the plains, and while they did have contact with other communities, trade was limited to only specialty goods. Everything else came from the local area.

On top of the physical loss of land and infrastructure, there was also the loss of knowledge. The people who stood up to fight were the most powerful mages and strongest warriors, trying to hold back the destruction and stop the eldritch power contaminating the world; when they died, their knowledge of the world died with them. Similarly, Dryads were far more common back then, with people relying on them to interpret the weather, bless the crops, protect them from harm, and purify any imbalance of good and evil. So even the folks who did survive had to suddenly adjust to having no Dryads to fall back on.

Then, just when they thought the worst of it was over -- that their world had ended and was something new and scary, but stable -- the first Blood Moon rises and everything goes to Hell in a hand-basket once more (albeit only for a night). So now, rather than the night being a time for mages to practice their craft, the inherent chaos of the dark is now dialed up 1000% (even moreso during blood moons). Hence the push for some folks to try and find solace beneath the earth -- building the underground cabins, establishing the Dungeon, and the Lihzahrds locking themselves within a temple away from the sky.

The world was finally given a chance to breathe again once most of the eldritch magic, and in equal measure the divine hallow, was locked away in the core of the world. But by that point the old world was already a distant memory. It's been 500 years since the war, around 450 since most magic was locked away, and what did remain from before the war gave the world a significant boost in recovery. Old magic items and technology can be studied and recreated, and while technological/magical advancement is a bit uneven from region to region depending on their level of development and general population, the Guides have worked hard sharing everything they know between them to rebuild.

Purity Town, and the smaller villages immediately surrounding it (in the desert, snowy mountains, etc.) has such a low population/is so remote that they don't have much in the way of established governance. Various NPCs arguably have varying levels of authority within their specialization: Heather is the go-to for healing, Malik is the local monster hunter, and so on, but it's all very informal. The individual villages probably all have people who handle day-to-day things -- there are various random folks who live in the region to fill out each village outside of the established NPCs -- but it's just something going on in the background to keep the place running.

Guides aren't really meant to be politicians either, but they do often fall into a default leadership role since they're the go-to advice guys!

They're meant to preserve and share knowledge of the world, its languages, and its cultures; a reaction to the vast majority of that knowledge having been lost in the wake of the war 500 years ago. So Guides are out there fielding questions like "how do I make this medicine/when do I harvest this plant/is this edible/etc.," but they also are expected to know enough about situations like weather/celestial events such that they can give advice no matter what crops up. Extend that attitude to a more general "this person knows how to handle Problems, so let's default to whatever they tell us whenever we run into Problems," and you end up with Guides often taking pseudo-leadership or advisory positions.

Andrew is in something of a weird spot, as he took over for a much more established/respected Guide after she retired and threw him into it, and is not particularly good at commanding authority or dealing with people in the way she could, even though he tries to be nice. But he's extremely, extremely knowledgeable, even compared to other Guides due to having been around for long enough to pick up so much knowledge, so at least he can fulfill that aspect of the job easily enough and the townsfolk trust him to do so.

Tangentially related, but the lack of solid governance is specific/unique to Purity Town's remoteness. With a small enough population, folks rely on the cooperation and skills of others much more, and any disputes would be worked out among the townsfolk proper.

The world isn't fully settled, but there are some locations with enough of a population to be considered actual kingdoms (see: Princess NPC) with established government (see: Tax Collector). Chris' hometown, which sees a lot of ship traffic/trade, has a proper government, local guard, etc. along with their own Guide. Purity Town is just particularly out there! But it's still been around for long enough to have seen some trade, built up some skills among the residents, and establish basic infrastructure so that residents can live comfortably. Like comparing a small town in the modern day to a remote village in medieval times, residents still enjoy a relatively high standard of living, despite being a scattered and remote population.

The world hasn't recovered to where it was pre-Moon Lord, but it's certainly not a post-apocalyptic wasteland anymore!

[anachronismstellar]

Fic writer curse got me fam, and the doctor didn't give me a note so I have to go to work. To cheer me up here's more Airplane vs The System because I wanna feel I'm making progress

And it's Cumplane Bros being smart because I love them and yeah

Hope you like it!

---

“There's…” he hesitated, glancing at Shen Yuan nervously before sweeping things around, going through names of missions. “There's stuff missing. And I can see the names, but now it's all gray? I can't select my old logs.”

Shen Yuan opened his own system, checking the same options Airplane had gone through, finding everything normal.

“That's weird, even for the System,” Shen Yuan took a step back, picking up his fan, tapping it against his palm as he walked back and forth. “And you don't remember getting any messages?”

“No, I would have told you if anything had popped up!” Which, yea, Airplane wouldn't be able to hide something like that. And they had been enjoying a nice life for the past couple of years, finally living their happy ending. Yes, some wife plots here and there but…

“I thought it was done with us now that the story was finished.” Airplane's voice cracked at the end, and this time Shen Yuan couldn't help but feel his heart squeeze for his fellow transmigrator, murderously rampant or not.

“Okay, we have to think.” Shen Yuan went back to walking, pressing his fingers against his forehead, his crown starting to feel too tight on his head. “We know Linguang-Jun was working with an Owl demon. Did he say anything else?”

Airplane blanched, trembling hand going over his mouth, rubbing his fingers over closed pressed lips. It took him some moments to compose himself, shrugging as he made the screen vanish.

“He said it wasn't a Demon, but a Heavenly being, which makes no sense, I didn't write the Heavens-”

“Oh so you do remember what you wrote, amazing!”

“-But he also said that they wanted Mobei-Jun alive. He said that they were powerful and they knew all about Linguang-Jun's schemes, down to the people he had bribed, that's why he had to help them.”

“Did he at least describe them? It was an Owl type of creature but what else?” He stopped next to the table, moving papers around with the tip of his fan. He couldn't help but think that something else was going on. “If we have the physical description we can focus on one area of the map.”

Shen Yuan huffed when Airplane ignored his comment completely only with a twitch of an eye. Airplane couldn't physically hurt him, Shen Qingqiu's cultivation skills being better than Shang Qinghua could ever develop, but Airplane looked just enough on the edge that he might try his luck with a punch.

Shen Yuan didn't want to test his limits, so he ignored that he had been ignored, letting it slide.

“He said that they arrived as a white Owl, then they changed to their humanoid form.”

Shen Yuan froze, eyes going wide. The color helped to focus their search on the Northern Desert, but where? The area was huge, most of it completely uninhabitable except-

“The Polar Owl,” he mumbled, not bothering to answer Airplane's “what?”, shoving away the pile of useless notes to grab the huge map of the demon realm hidden under it all. “You only wrote one fucking normal animal in this entire weird ass story, and it was the Polar Owl,” Shen Yuan grabbed a brush to circle the places the Owl hypothetically lived, not cursing out loud Airplane's lack of following through with backgrounds. This time. “They live in the furthest north anyone ever been, no one else can survive the low temperatures except-”

“The Mobei line.” Airplane's whisper wasn't loud enough to interrupt Shen Yuan but the awed expression on Shang Qinghua's face was.

“Exactly.” Shen Yuan snapped his fan open, a smirk tilting his lips up as he straightened up his shoulders, putting on his best peak lord smug face. “And they are considered sacred to the Northern tribes because of their resistance to low temperatures. Thus it is completely possible that Linguang-Jun thought that the person he spoke with had come from the Heavens.”

Ding!

Mission in progress: Author's favorite.

UV002 objective: aid UV001

[COMPLETED]

---

Off to work I go, wish me luck ✌️

[copinghex]

Basis | T.S

Summary: "His day had been awful, the stock market crash gave him an awful headache, his family certainly would be against any solution he could possibly find and at last, her words made him stumble and crash"

The house was uncharacteristically cold for an autumn night, the wind whistled through the windows crevices and that was the only sound to be heard, even the maids' heels were silenced by the fall of the night.

The crash of the stock market affected the Shelby company to levels no one could foresee, since everyone assumed their currency was safe in Michael's hands. They were far from bankruptcy, as a matter of fact they would never have to worry about going back to the Watery Lane again, but the concern was inevitable.

The big clock in the hallway announced midnight and Y/N jumped at the sound of the heavy pendulum, usually the maids kept the clock from making any noise so it wouldn't disturb Tommy's light sleep, it seemed that tonight they forgot to.

Before entering her shared bedroom, she waited to see if the bang had woken up her baby, no cry was heard, making it feel like she was alone in the house.

However, she wasn't, Tommy sat at her dressing table brooding with a glass of whiskey, his shoulders hung low and he barely noticed her presence. She knew that state of him very well, he was stuck into his mind, thoughts running in his head like a down spiral.

She approached him slowly, as if he was a wounded war horse. Her gentle hand squeezed his shoulder, the tense muscles fitted on her palm begging to be looked after. 

All Tommy offered as an answer was a slow blink and another sip of his whiskey, the bottle was full earlier that evening and almost empty by then. Y/N didn't doubt he had a high resistance to alcohol and yet, she couldn't help but worry.

"So what have you decided? I know Linda didn't let you speak," she referred to the family meeting they had.

"Nothing yet," Tommy mumbled, "fucking nothing," 

She took the glass from his hand before he could take another sip, a few drops trickled on his trousers and he cursed trying to take it back. In a quick gulp, she finished the drink.

"What are you doing, Tom?" she scolded.

"Y/N please," he sighed, "not now, not fucking now," 

"Look at state of you, stand up, Tommy," she demanded, but he didn't move at all, "fucking stand up!"

Tommy's eyes widened as she pulled him up with all her strength, he stumbled on his stool and firmly held onto her arms, certainly the spots would get sore later.

"Are you drunk?" she asked quietly, the look in her eyes didn't hide the concern and Tommy didn't have the heart to push her away.

However, he didn't answer, instead his rough hands traveled to her nape and tangled his fingertips on her hair. At that moment he was unable to express the relief only her presence brought, he was certain that he'd go mad if he had to deal with everything alone.

Tommy stared at her gentle eyes and she stared back. The face she very much loved was forming wrinkles, gray hair hid itselves in his well drawn eyebrows, above everything he looked exhausted.

Cupping his cheeks, she traced the scars on his cheek and under his chin, a wave of overwhelming affection washed over her,

"You're my basis, Tommy," she whispered, "I know I don't say it often, I know I don't say it enough, but the truth is that none of this would make sense without you," 

Tommy hid the shock her words caused by looking down at his own feet, he was beyond surprised. So he wasn't just an income, someone actually cared for him, the idea nearly brought tears to his eyes, he always thought being loved would be comfortable and relieving, but it only formed a knot in his throat.

He didn't see himself as worthy of love, especially not hers. Tommy couldn't tell exactly when he started to think she should leave him, he only thought someday she would and he wouldn't have the right to complain, because he was well aware dealing with him was a burden.

Noticing a single tear running down his face, she quickly brushed it off and pulled him to her arms. His chin rested on her shoulder as he held his breath, a trick to keep himself from crying he learnt in his childhood.

Nevertheless, he wasn't able to keep up with it when her hands traveled through his back. While one held the back of his neck, the other traced his spine with gentle, yet firm pressure, next moving to his shoulder blades and lower back. 

At last, her embrace became tighter around him, assuring Tommy's silent cry it was okay to come out, if it wasn't for the movement of his back and the tears wetting her clothes, she wouldn't believe such simple words had that effect on him. The truth was, Tommy was much more fragile than he let show. 

"It's alright, let it out," she soothed, petting the shaven back of his head, "I got you,"

Five, ten, twenty minutes passed and Tommy started to try controlling his breath, he knew that if he fully let himself go his cry would become compulsive, the tears would run down without control and turn an intimate moment into a humiliating one.

Slowly, he breathed in and out, laying his head on her shoulder. She tried to look him in the eyes, but Tommy quickly hid his face on her neck, he'd hate to be seen with teary eyes and wet cheeks.

He held onto her clothes tightly, at the same time her scent calmed him down, the gentleness she offered made him want to cry again.

"I'm sorry," he sobbed, "I'm fucking sorry,"

"It's alright, love, don't apologize," guiding him to bed, she held him in her arms.

Running a hand through his hair, Y/N respected his wish to hide, the bridge of his nose fitted on her neck as his wet eyelashes brushed on her skin. His day had been awful, the stock market crash gave him an awful headache, his family certainly would be against any solution he could possibly find and at last, her words made him stumble and crash. 

Eventually, Tommy's eyelids got heavy, her warmth relaxed his tired muscles and he felt safe enough to let the worries slip away. He fell asleep with his head on her shoulder.

Realizing he was asleep, Y/N took the opportunity of doing the same, in the last few months sleeping near him had become a rare occurrence. 

Hours went by, enough for the wind gusts to dissipate and a storm to form. The heavy, gray clouds covered the moon in the dark sky, releasing thick rain drops that hit the window with brutal force. 

The noise woke Tommy up, he lifted his head to see his wife in deep slumber, he didn't know how much time passed, but he felt less tired, it had been a long time since he took a nap without waking up from time to time. 

Peeking at the clock at the bed table, he squeezed his eyes shut and sighed, four in the morning wasn't exactly a proper hour to wake up, especially if he had slept past midnight.

A sleepy noise from Y/N captured his focus again, his eyes wandered to the drawer in which he kept his opium bottle and he quickly came back at her. Finally, he decided to not disturb her sleep, well aware he probably wouldn't fall asleep again, Tommy snuggled to her and closed his eyes. He wouldn't say it back, but she was also his basis. 

[lightsovermonaco]

an: requests and comments always welcome!

wc: 1250

Summary: Pato surprises you by coming home for your anniversary. Fluff with a slight bit of suggestiveness at the end.

One full year. One full year of dating the most thoughtful, obnoxious, beautiful, annoying soul of a man. Three hundred and sixty five days of weird faces, suggestive Snapchat captions, and random phone calls. There's been less drama and more love than you could've ever dreamed. 

You wouldn't trade the past twelve months for anything in the world. 

Dating Pato hasn't been all puppies and rainbows- although Norbi had joined the two of you on a picnic once and you had seen multiple full rainbows. There's challenges, most of which stem from the constant distance and busy schedules. But one way or another, Pato always finds a way to make you feel like he's only in the next room instead of a few states away. 

Whether it be sending you flowers after you've ranted over text or facetiming you for thirty seconds to wish you a good morning, Pato does what he can. Sometimes it's overwhelming to have him away from home so long. There's days where you aren't sure how much longer you can go without holding him in your arms or feeling his stubbly cheeks beneath your fingertips. Pato must have a sixth sense for those things however, because he always seems to know and always gives you a little more love on the rough days. 

Tonight though, you've got the man all to yourself. The lottery drew your number.  You don't know what sacrifice he's made to the scheduling gods, but he's managed to come home for your anniversary just two days before a race. And the worst part? Pato hadn't given you any warning. You'd opened the door in your pajamas, expecting your door dash order instead of the whole package. 

Once you'd attacked him and thoroughly smattered his face with kisses, you'd worked up the courage to ask how long he'd be home. 

“It's only eight hours, I have a plane later tonight to catch back to Milwaukee. But I figured a few hours is better than seeing your face on a screen.” 

“It's so much better Pato,” you murmur and steal another kiss. You can't help it; you're addicted to him and have been in withdrawal for far too long. “I missed you so fucking much.” 

“Trust me, I missed you more.” Pato nudges your jaw with his nose. You understand his request and tip your head to give him full access to your neck, letting any thoughts of that very important work project that had to be finished this week float away on the breeze. 

If you only had eight hours with your man, you were going to make the most of them. 

“Upstairs,” you breathe, fingers tangling in his freshly styled hair. “Now, Pato.”

“Ma'am yes ma'am.”

**********

After spending a few hours wrapped up in each other, Pato had finally convinced you to go out to lunch with him. He'd picked your dress, a burnt orange satin number with thin straps and a slit up the leg that nearly went to your hip.

With Pato dressed in a charcoal quarter zip that's shamefully unzipped and his hair fluffed just how you like it, it's a miracle you've made it through the first course without jumping him. Because with that much of his neck on display and the proof of your earlier fun poking out from under the collar, it's taking every ounce of willpower to keep from dragging him out of this fancy restaurant and begging him to put some marks of his own on you. 

"My eyes are up here hermosa." 

"Hmm? Oh- no I know Pato, sorry! I just got distracted." Pato shifts to allow more skin to show. His smirk tells you he knows exactly what he's doing.

“I seem to distract you a lot don't I? Like before when I got home and you were working on that project…” Pato swipes his index finger through the pasta sauce on his plate and licks it clean. Thoughts swirl in your head like mist, though the only one that materializes is the memory of where those fingers had been an hour ago.

“Uh… sure…” 

“Not doing yourself much justice here, are you?” Pato tips his head, brown eyes warm and sparkling. “Good thing you're cute- you're not a very good conversation partner when your head is up on mars.”

“Well maybe if you wouldn't be so hot all the time,” you mumble, spearing pasta on your fork. “It would make my life a lot easier. Then maybe I could get through a meal without losing my train of thought.”

Pato's cute little dimples are on full display when he smiles. Your stomach does flips as if you're back in high school sitting across from your crush. It's crazy how he still has that effect on you now. You'd once worried that the spark would fade and you'd get bored of each other. Now though, you're positive that it's still as alive and hot as the day you met. 

“We both know you don't mean that. These,” Pato taps one of the bruises on his neck, “are proof that you love me just how I am.”

“Yeah well, all I'm saying is once in a while you could show me some mercy, you know? You c-could-” you stutter when Pato's hand meets your knee. Hidden under the table and exposed by the slit in your dress, his thumb moves over your smooth skin whilst his eyes remain trained on you. 

“Hermosa? Everything alright?” Pato smiles sweetly as his hand slides halfway up your thigh. Now you know why he asked for the tiniest table tucked away in the corner. Considering Pato's smug grin, his public torture is having the desired effect. 

“I'm- I'm fine Pato. Perfectly fine.” You clear your throat and shift in your seat so that you're out of his reach. For a split second, you feel guilty when Pato frowns. But instead of giving up, he ups the ante. Pato simply moves his own chair so that he can replace his hand exactly where it was. You should've known he wouldn't let you get away so easily; Pato isn't one to be deterred. 

“Actually,” you purr, laying your hand on his arm, “it would be better if you could let me finish eating in peace.”

“Mmm let me think about it.” Pato drums His fingers on your thigh and purses his lips. You both know the answer before the, “no,” leaves his lips. 

You huff and curl your fingers so your nails dig into his sweater. “This isn't fair Pato. I can't do anything to you, and you're set on torturing me.”

“I think the solution is simple.” When you stare at him blankly, Pato shrugs. “Finish your meal. The quicker you finish eating, the quicker we can get home, yeah?” Pato's wink is accompanied by a dip of his hand between your thighs, there and gone. As quick as it is, his touch is still enough to leave you scrambled. 

“Just pay the bill. I'm done eating.”

“But I ordered dessert-” 

“And I’ll be the dessert as long as you get me home in the next twenty minutes.” a mischievous glint dances in Pato’s eyes. His hand stays exactly where it is whilst the server retrieves the tab. Pato takes one look at it and leaves cash on the table, not bothering with change. 

Pato makes it home with three minutes to spare, and as promised, makes you his dessert. 

[sweetdreamsbuck]

this is going to sound sooo silly but I AM so!

I just want to be someone's pretty girl so bad:(

and not because I think i'm pretty, in fact I struggle with seeing that at all– but because someone just needs to adore me and cherish me and make sure I feel so seen, so important, that they just love making me feel special. in turn I get to be called something so soft and sweet and completely their's!

i'm just being emotional and dramatic but I wore a new sweater and did my hair differently today (not anything fancy just differently) and no one at work even spared a glance my way! not that I want attention from any of my coworkers lmao and yes I have the self image and confidence of a worn down run over piece of cement but it would be so nice to have someone to wake up to or come home to who wants to let me know they see me🥺

[angeart]

Juni kept the wings??? T-T And I was wondering what would happen to him during the eclipse I wanna pick up Juni and take him to another world where he can learn to actually be safe and happy and figure himself out.

-🎀

he kept the wings!! because in his life he's never seen anyone treated with so much gentleness and love as scar treated grian, and in his head this means that if he himself is avian-like, maybe then he could also be deserving of such love!

...though he knows that's not right. not anymore. not after everything.

but wings are also a burden, and he feels like he needs to keep them, if only because grian can't take off his. it's a weak repentance, a frail, silly grasp at a connection he himself broke, but... he doesn't have much else.

he doesn't know who he should be, but the most he ever felt like himself was when he had wings, so. they say.

..... and. as for picking juni up and taking him away. yes. yes please. 🥺 he needs love and safety and space to figure himself out.

(but that's a wish we can't grant </33)

[theophagie]

I don't have the authority or the seniority or any other -ority to vocally reproach people, and even if I did I'm not about that life, but I'm in the uncomfortable position of "I can't do some of My Shit if people don't do theirs first", and doing the others things slooowly only works so far. And oftentimes I'm sitting at my desk feeling like there's a guillotine hanging over me because I don't wanna get caught "slacking" and get in trouble. But I don't want to get other people in trouble either. Whack :|

[s0dium]

Warning: Gojo has really bad breeding/pregnancy kink

You have an inkling that Gojo Satoru is trying to get you pregnant.

You weren't sure at first, but the subtle clues began to add up. The way he insisted on being close to you during your most fertile days, his knowing smiles whenever you mentioned the future, and the way he would tenderly ask about your health and if you were taking any medications. And then of course, the fucking.

He is absolutely relentless. He reels his hips back just enough so his fat tip barely leaves your warm cunny, the anticipation building as you brace yourself. In an instant, he slams them forward, hard and fast right into your cervix. It's like he is trying to bring you and himself to the edge as fast as possible. And what you don't know is that he is, and after that, he will start all over again.

At the start he is able to keep his composure. But as he thrusts deeper, Jesus, when he feels, like, really fucking feels how warm and tight your pussy is, he starts to crumble like sand. Seeing you beneath him, your eyes glassy with tears from the intensity, your lower lip trembling as soft moans escape you, stirs something primal within him. It makes his body kick into auto-pilot as his head fills with thoughts only on filling you.

"F-feel so good baby," Gojo will groan into your ear as he rolls his hips into you. "S-shit I cant-" he gasps when you squeeze his length, your pussy squeezing him in a vice grip. That's when the babbling starts.

His mind is too hazy with euphoria to actually realize what he is saying but once he starts he can't stop; "Gonna cum in you baby, gonna cum in you and make you a mommy yeah?" He groans and throws his head back, sweat dripping now his neck, Adams's apple bobbing and mouth open as he pants for air.

"Come on answer me baby" He's not a whining man but here he is stumbling over his words like a school boy because of how good he feels right now. "Tell me how good you feel, tell me how you wanna be a mommy, how you wanna have my babies"

You know you should say no. You really do, but you just cant stop yourslef. "I do, I do I do" you babble, the words strung out on your lips from how good he is fucking you. Each of his thrusts sends electric shocks through your veins, the delicious friction of his cock setting your nerves alight. He fills you completely, stretching you to a blissful fullness that borders on too much, yet exactly what you crave. The way he moves within you, deep and relentless, drives you to the edge of sanity. His intensity, the raw power behind each movement, makes you feel cherished and claimed all at once. The euphoria builds, each stroke stoking the fire within you, each moment of fullness punctuated by a hunger for more. The collision of his dick against your cervix has you seeing colors. His motions are fluid due to how wet you are and his pelvis rubs against your sensitive clit so so so perfectly, driving you closer near the edge.

He moans at your words. God you were so perfect, you were going to be the perfect mother he can practically see it now; your cute belly bump, your tits round and plump with milk. He thinks that you would have to pry him off your nipple because god once he gets a test of you he won't be able to stop. Everything feels so good, he is practically seeing colors, oh god he is close he is so close-

"Fuck!" Gojo's hip stutter and his grip tightened significantly, a loud moan of your name slipping from his lips as his own orgasm washed over him, coming so hard he sees white. As the warm, sticky liquid fills your cunt, a surge of intense pleasure washes over you. The sensation is both overwhelming and deeply satisfying, and enough to bring you over the edge. Your pussy spasms from the pleasure and a white ring of cum forms around his dick from how tight the fit is.The warmth spreads, a comforting yet exhilarating feeling that envelopes your senses, leaving you awash in a blissful glow.

Maybe a baby with Gojo wouldn't be so bad.

[kathaynesart]

The eye of the hurricane. I like to think Cassandra sometimes called the brothers by the nicknames their dad used, given they were probably pretty close before his passing.

BEGINNING || PREVIOUS || NEXT MASTER POST

Man oh man, this one was way messier and off model than my last few updates but whatever, we got to keep this ball rolling! Life's been crazy so I've had to take some unwanted breaks in between updates. Thanks everyone for your patience as always!

One thing I wanted in this flashback was to really get a sense of how the brothers worked as an experienced team with Leo at the helm as a proper leader. It's something we never got to see much of in Rise and I felt it was important to include since half the team is already gone by the time of Replica. Team Dynamics Ted Talk under the cut!

We know from Casey Jr that Leo stressed the importance of listening to your team. A big part of that also means knowing how to communicate with them in general.

With Michelangelo, he keeps it short and succinct, trusting his brother to know what he's doing when in his element. This trust goes a long way with Mikey, having spent years of his youth as the baby striving for the respect he felt he deserved. Leo knows it's best to not bog Mikey down with details, allowing him to improvise as needed. This unspoken freedom has only grown over time as Mikey has dipped deeper into spiritual arts that, frankly, go completely over Leo's head.

The greatest sacrifice Leo has ever made was read Donnie's Big Book of Bad Guy Codes. While he doesn't remember ALL the numbers, he has memorized the ones that matter and it has helped tremendously in avoiding miscommunication with his genius brother. More importantly it silenced any of Donnie's usual belly-aching. As Leo's "twin"/"equal" the two still butt heads from time to time. Donnie respects his brother's authority (mostly) but will still push the boundaries of what he's allowed on a semi-regular basis. Give Donnie an inch and he will take the mile and then find a loop hole that allows him to go twenty miles more. This is partially due to him often being the one left behind at HQ, making the turtle just a TAD stir crazy. Leo does his best to keep him in line regardless.

Big brother Raph will forever and always be big brother to Leo. As such he holds a place of authority in Leo's heart and is someone he still regularly seeks counsel from in both the ways of leadership and more. Raph is always happy to support his younger brother and does a surprisingly good job (albeit after years of practice) of walking the line so as not to step on his brother's toes in the process. At least not since the secret of "the Key" blew up in their faces several years ago. They don't talk about that anymore. Leo is the leader now and he's done a great job in recent years as far as Raph is concerned. He trusts him to make the right call. The two have a close bond and regularly use mind meld to quickly communicate rather than speak ...this will be important to remember for the future.

Hope that overall feeling came through for this group!

[writersdrug]

OOOH bartender Simon when one of the regulars starts making comments about reader at the bar

Yes

Slight nsfw, someone makes derogatory marks about reader

Simon didn't understand why the man chose to be a regular at his bar. He never spoke much to the lad, Mitch, other than the occasional grunt and "'nother round?" Still, the bloke had been coming to his pub every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday night like it was his religion - it very well might've been - spilling his guts over neat whiskey about his failing marriage, his estranged children, and his shitty job. Simon was surprised he managed to keep one, with how much he was drinking on a Sunday night.

"Don't ever get a wife, Simon." Mitch says, fidgeting his empty whiskey glass in his fingers. He'd already come in with a sour expression and droopy eyes - Simon wondered what the topic would be for tonight, but as usual, it steered towards his divorce waiting to happen.

"Already got one." He says, jerking his head to the liquor shelf. "Woodford."

Mitch laughs, letting Ghost take his empty glass and dunk it in the wash basin. "You got anyone waitin' for you after work?"

Ghost clicks his tongue, wiping the condensation off the bar top. "Rather not talk about my personal life 'ere."

"Bah - you need something young n' fresh." Mitch sighs, tapping his fingers against the wood. "Guy like you can't have something too committed, or else your work ethic will suffer."

Ghost grunts as his response. He reminds himself that Mitch was a patent, like everyone else, and he only has to tolerate his yapping for tonight - until next Friday.

Mitch turns his head to look at you, and Simon follows with his eyes: you're standing at a table, bantering with the couple seated there as you take their orders. Hair pulled back into that weird claw clip thingy Simon likes so much, posture relaxed as you leaned on one hip, a soft smile on your face as the couple takes their time placing their orders. He remembers how unfamiliar you were with it all in the beginning, and now it looks like you've been working here for the past ten years. Like you belong in his pub.

"How's she handling the job?" Mitch asks.

Simon shrugs. "Seems t' be managing just fine. Gets away with more shit than I should be allowin' 'er."

Mitch chuckles, looking back at you. "They always do when they look that good." He comments, making Ghost pause. "Price knew what he was doin' hiring her."

He feels his muscles tense subconsciously. "I hired 'er."

Mitch looks back at him, a wicked smile spreading across his face. "Simon, you ol' dog..." he begins, leaning his forearms onto the bartop. "Gotta keep the customers comin' somehow, eh?"

Ghost blinks. "I don't follow." He does; but he's giving Mitch a chance to redeem himself after his insinuation.

"C'mon, was it her face? What she wore to the interview? Did Johhny-boy see her and beg you to hire her?" He leans in towards Simon, who obliges and meets him halfway, just to hear what else the price will say, so he knows how much damage he can justify.

"I'm telling you - the only reason she probably took the job was, well.." he raises and eyebrow.

Simon waits. "Hmm?"

"You know - three big guys like you lot - not to mention that old brewmaster assistant, Garrick, I know he frequents here... well, any desperate thing like her would be throwing themselves at the opportunity."

He's livid. "Wha' opportunity?"

"Gettin hit from all sides, if you catch my drift."

Ghost nods slowly, biting the inside of his cheek until he tastes blood. He wants to punch a hole through Mitch's chest, but two patrons roughhoused in one week would make Price get on his case. He turns to the bar and grabs a whiskey glass.

"Aww, don't be like that..." Mitch says when he senses Ghost's anger. "I'm sorry. Listen - if you don't want to show her a good time, me and my buddy will. I'll leave my number and you'll give it to her for me?"

"Drink this, sober up, and go home Mitch." Ghost says, slapping the glass of clear liquid in front of the man. Mitch eyes him with a huff as he returns to washing the glasses in the bar sink.

"Fuckin' loser..." he mumbles, grabbing the glass and downing a large gulp - he immediately sputters, the drink spilling all over his front as he coughs and hacks violently. The entire floor looks over at the commotion, you included, standing by the POS and watching with a furrowed brow.

"Fuck- was that goddamn Everclear?!" He rasps.

"I think it's time y' head out, Mitch." Ghost says, leaning both of his hands against the bar. "Call your wife and kids. Stop comin' 'ere every week." He then leans in close, right in front of Mitch's face. "Cuz if I see you back at my bar again, I'm draggin' you out the back myself."

His eyes crinkle with a smile as he claps Mitch on the arm, making him jump from the impact. He quickly gets up off his seat and stumbles towards the front door, sparing one last bittwr glance between you and Ghost, before he angrily shoves his way out.

Ghost sighs, putting the Everclear back on the shelf; you walk over right on cue. "What was that about? He ok?"

Simon shrugs, closing Mitch's tab on his POS and assigning an auto-gratuity. "Dunno. Maybe my advice finally got t' the bastard."

[lxvsiick]

CALLING ON MY ANGEL | PARK SUNGHOON X READER

PAIRING: troublemaker! park sunghoon x good girl! fem! reader

SUMMARY: She was a sweet angel in his world of darkness.

GENRE: imagine, grumpy x sunshine?

WORDCOUNT: 3.3k

A/N: honestly, i don't know what was going on in my head when i wrote this -- but chase atlantic and enhypen just go together so well ,, anyways this is a story/imagine inspired by the song ANGELS by Chase Atlantic! Enjoy!

It was late, and the streetlights flickered dimly, casting long shadows across the pavement as Y/n made her way home from her shift at the convenience store. Her steps were light, but exhaustion weighed her down. The night air was crisp, the silence only broken by the occasional car passing by.

As she turned the corner, a group of guys about her age noticed her. Their voices lowered to murmurs, and then, as if on cue, they called out to her.

"Hey, pretty lady, what’s the rush?" one of them asked, his tone slimy and casual.

Y/n tensed immediately, her heart racing as they approached her, their confidence unnerving. They surrounded her, blocking her path, their grins widening as they tried to engage her with flirty remarks that only made her skin crawl.

"Come on, stay and chat for a bit," another one urged, his voice dropping in what he likely thought was a charming way.

"I... I really need to go," she stammered, trying to sound firm but unable to hide the tremor in her voice. Her eyes darted around, looking for an escape, but the street was empty.

The guys chuckled, sensing her discomfort and ignoring her quiet rejection. One of them stepped even closer, his hand grazing her arm, making her shrink back in fear. Just as panic started to rise in her chest, a figure appeared on the sidewalk, heading in their direction.

Sunghoon walked toward them, his head down, the hood of his black hoodie pulled low over his face. Without slowing his pace, he bumped into one of the guys, shoulder to shoulder, knocking him slightly off balance.

"Hey, watch it!" the guy barked, turning aggressively. But when he saw Sunghoon’s face, he froze. The cut on his cheek was still fresh, and the bruise beneath his eye only added to the dark, dangerous aura he carried. His expression was cold, unreadable, and his reputation preceded him.

"Wait... that’s him," one of the other guys muttered in panic, recognition flashing across his face. Sunghoon and his group were well-known around campus—troublemakers you didn’t mess with unless you had a death wish.

The tension in the air shifted immediately. Without another word, the group of guys glanced at each other nervously and started to back off, retreating with hasty steps as they muttered excuses under their breath. They quickly disappeared down the street, their bravado shattered.

For a moment, Y/n stood frozen in place, her heart still pounding. Then, she let out a shaky breath, relief flooding her as she turned to face her unexpected savior.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible in the quiet night.

Sunghoon didn’t respond. He merely continued walking, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his hoodie, his face obscured beneath the hood. But there was something about his presence that eased her fear. Without thinking, she began to follow him.

He didn’t look back, but after a few steps, his pace slowed, just enough for her to catch up. They walked side by side in silence, the tension of the moment gradually fading away. The comfort of his silent protection was enough to keep her calm as they walked through the empty streets, heading in the same direction.

Though no words were spoken, the quiet connection between them felt stronger than any conversation they could have had.

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

Y/n strolled down the school hallway, a bounce in her step and a smile on her face. In each hand, she held a can of soda, one of them a free gift from the vending machine that had decided to be generous today. The students who passed by greeted her with warm smiles and waves, and she returned them just as brightly. Known for her kind heart and friendly demeanor, she was one of those people everyone gravitated toward.

As she approached the quieter end of the hall, where the lights dimmed slightly and fewer students wandered, a faint groan reached her ears. She slowed her pace, her smile fading as curiosity took over. Her eyes scanned the area, searching for the source of the sound.

Then she spotted him—Sunghoon, slumped against the wall, half-hidden in the shadowed corner of the hallway. His head rested back, eyes shut, a pained expression on his face. He looked like he had just come out of a brawl, the bruises on his face making it clear that he hadn’t come out unscathed.

Letting out a quiet gasp, she hurried over to him, crouching down beside him. “Are you okay?” she asked softly, concern lacing her voice.

Sunghoon groaned again, wincing as he tried to shift slightly. “Go away,” he muttered through gritted teeth, his voice rough and tired.

Y/n didn’t budge. She tilted her head, eyes narrowing as she studied his battered face. Then, as if a lightbulb flicked on in her mind, an idea popped into her head. Without a word, she grabbed the extra can of soda from her hand and gently pressed it against his bruised cheek.

He winced at the cold metal against his skin, eyes flying open in surprise. “What the—” he started, only to stop short when he saw her sitting there, looking at him with that same concerned expression.

“Use it,” she said, offering him a small smile. “And you really should stop getting into so many fights.”

For a moment, he didn’t know what to say. His usual tough exterior seemed to falter as he stared at her, completely caught off guard. She looked so calm, so kind, her face glowing in the soft light filtering into the hallway. In his dazed state, she looked almost angelic—like someone who didn’t belong in the world of trouble and chaos he often found himself in.

She seemed to notice him staring and a faint blush crept up her cheeks. Flustered, she quickly stood up, brushing imaginary dust off her skirt. “Anyway, um, I’ve got to go,” she stammered, taking a step back. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

Before he could respond, she turned and hurried off down the hall, leaving him behind, still holding the can of soda against his cheek. He watched her retreating figure, the echo of her footsteps fading into the distance.

As he sat there, her words and that small act of kindness played over in his mind. A strange warmth filled his chest—a feeling he wasn’t used to.

For the first time in a while, Sunghoon wasn’t sure what to make of it.

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

Y/n stood behind the counter of the convenience store, her fingers idly tapping against the scanner as the hum of fluorescent lights filled the quiet air. It was a slow night—until the bell above the door jingled, announcing a loud group entering the store. Her gaze lifted, recognizing Sunghoon and his six friends immediately. They were laughing and talking, their voices filling the otherwise calm atmosphere.

She couldn’t help but smile a little at the sight of him. When his eyes finally met hers from across the store, she gave him a small, friendly wave. But instead of a smile in return, he only nodded coolly before turning his attention back to his friends.

She swallowed, her smile faltering as she watched him walk over to join his group, who were busy picking out snacks and drinks from the aisles. Despite the brief, almost indifferent interaction, she found herself glancing over at him every now and then, wondering what was going through his mind.

A few minutes later, his friends approached the register, arms full of snacks and drinks, still chattering away. She straightened up, putting on her professional face as they piled their items onto the counter.

“That’ll be $19,851 wons,” she said after scanning everything.

Jake shot her a mischievous grin. “Oh, don’t worry, Sunghoon is paying,” he said with a wink. Before she could react, the whole group hurried out of the store, leaving her standing there, blinking in surprise.

Moments later, Sunghoon appeared at the counter, his usual stoic expression in place. He handed her his card without a word.

Her hands felt a little shaky as she took it, swiping it through the machine. The silence between them felt heavy, almost awkward. She could feel her heart beating faster, though she couldn’t quite figure out why. As she handed his card back, Sunghoon spoke up, “So... when does your shift end?”

His question caught her off guard, and she almost fumbled with his card in surprise. “Uh, it ends later tonight,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady as she handed him back his card.

He nodded, the silence between them settling again as she finished ringing him up. When the receipt printed, he took it without a word and left, the bell above the door jingling once more as he disappeared into the night.

The rest of her shift passed uneventfully, but Sunghoon’s brief question kept playing over in her mind. She wasn’t sure why, but it left her feeling unsettled, a strange mix of anticipation and confusion curling in her chest.

As she finally closed up for the night, locking the door behind her, she stepped outside, breathing in the cool night air. But before she could take another step, her eyes caught sight of a familiar figure leaning against the wall near the store—Sunghoon.

Surprise flickered across her face. “You waited for me?” she asked, her voice soft with disbelief.

He pushed himself off the wall, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Figured I’d walk you home,” he said simply, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

She couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips, warmth spreading in her chest. “Thanks,” she murmured, falling into step beside him as they began the familiar walk home together. Neither of them spoke much, but the quiet between them felt comfortable, different from the silence at the store. This time, it wasn’t awkward—just... them.

And for the first time that night, she felt a strange sense of calm, knowing he was there.

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

Sunghoon walked through the crowded halls of the school, his usual scowl firmly in place. The sound of shuffling feet and murmured conversations surrounded him, but none of the students dared meet his gaze as they passed by. Some even went as far as to move out of his way, heads down, whispering under their breath like he was a storm to avoid.

He was used to it by now—being the "troublemaker" on campus had that effect. But today, the weight of the stares seemed heavier than usual.

As he reached the lockers near the entrance, his ears caught the sound of a hushed conversation nearby. The voices weren’t meant to be overheard, but they were just loud enough for him to pick up bits and pieces.

“...Have you heard? Y/n’s been hanging around with him.”

“I know, right? She’s way too nice for someone like him. He’s bad news...”

“She doesn’t deserve that. What if he rubs off on her?”

Sunghoon stopped in his tracks, his jaw tightening as he listened. They didn’t even try to hide their judgment.

“She’s sweet. She shouldn’t be mixed up with a guy like him,” another voice chimed in.

His hand clenched into a fist by his side, but he resisted the urge to turn around and confront them. What would be the point? People had always made assumptions about him, and it seemed like no matter what he did, that wasn’t going to change. But now, it wasn’t just about him—it was about her. And that made something burn in his chest.

Letting out a huff of frustration, he stuffed his hands into his pockets, turning on his heel to walk out of the building. His footsteps echoed loudly against the floor as he pushed through the double doors, his mind racing with the words he had just overheard.

They think I’m bad for her? The thought gnawed at him. Part of him wanted to ignore it, brush it off like he always did. But this time was different. This time, it bothered him more than he cared to admit.

Because, despite his reputation and the way others looked at him, he cared about Y/n. And the last thing he wanted was for her to be caught in the crossfire of people’s judgments because of him. He clenched his jaw, replaying the whispers in his mind.

They don’t know her. They don’t know me.

With a heavy sigh, he stepped outside, feeling the cool air hit his face. He pulled the hood of his black hoodie over his head, trying to shake off the frustration that clung to him. The more he thought about it, the more their words stung, even though he didn’t want them to.

His pace quickened as he made his way down the steps, his thoughts clouded with doubt. He didn’t want to drag her down, but he also didn’t want to push her away. After all, they had gotten close in the past few weeks. For the first time in a long while, he had someone who saw him as more than just his reputation. Someone who didn’t flinch when she saw him, who wasn’t afraid to be around him.

But if staying close to her meant she’d have to deal with all the rumors and whispers... what then?

With his hands still deep in his pockets, he walked out of the school and into the garden, unsure of what he was supposed to do next. All he knew was that the idea of losing her, even as just a friend, felt worse than anything those students could ever say.

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

Y/n strolled through the school’s garden, enjoying the calm of the late afternoon. The sunlight filtered through the trees, casting a warm glow on the path. As she rounded a corner, her eyes landed on a familiar figure standing by the old wooden bench. It was Sunghoon, and something about his posture caught her attention.

Her steps slowed as she approached, a frown forming on her face. The closer she got, the more she could see the new cuts and bruises marring his face. It was clear he had been in some sort of altercation recently, and the sight made her heart sink.

"Hey," she called out softly, trying to keep her voice steady. "Are you okay?"

Sunghoon didn’t turn to face her, his shoulders tense. He muttered, "I’m fine. Just go away."

The dismissiveness in his tone stung. Y/n hesitated for a moment, her worry overriding her instinct to back off. She stepped closer, her eyes searching his face. "You don’t look fine. What happened?"

He turned his head slightly, just enough to show his irritation. "I said I’m fine. It’s nothing."

The Y/n’s concern deepened, her eyes softening with empathy. She reached out a tentative hand, but he shrugged it off, a frustrated edge to his movements.

"Stop asking," he snapped, his voice harsh. "I don’t need you to worry about me."

The words were like a slap in the face. Y/n felt a mix of confusion and hurt. Why was he pushing her away like this? She couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t let her help, why he was so determined to shut her out.

"Please," she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper now. "Let me help."

But he was already turning away, storming off down the path with a heavy, deliberate pace. The back of his hoodie was the only thing she could see as he walked away, the anger and frustration radiating from his form.

Y/n stood there, rooted to the spot. The tranquil garden seemed to mock her as she watched him go. The gentle rustling of leaves felt distant, and the beauty of the afternoon was lost on her. Her heart ached, both for him and for the rift that was growing between them.

She wanted to chase after him, to bridge the gap he was so determined to create, but something held her back. She felt helpless and confused, the worry for him battling with the sting of his rejection. All she could do was watch as he disappeared into the distance, leaving her standing there with a sinking feeling in her chest.

She sighed heavily, her emotions a tangled mess. As the garden’s serenity settled back around her, she finally turned and walked away, her steps slow and heavy, her mind racing with unanswered questions.

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

The clock on Y/n's bedside table ticked softly as she lay sprawled on her bed, scrolling through her phone. The room was dimly lit by the soft glow of her bedside lamp, creating a cozy, almost ethereal atmosphere. Her thumb paused over the screen as a new message notification popped up.

Curious, she tapped on the message from Sunghoon: 

"Can we meet at the park? I need to talk to you."

She hesitated for a moment, a flicker of worry crossing her face. Despite the late hour, something about the message made her heart race. Quickly, she threw on a white cardigan over her pajamas, the light fabric falling gracefully as she shrugged it on. Taking a deep breath, she headed out into the cool night air.

The park was a short walk away, and the streets were quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves. As she arrived, the park’s lone streetlamp cast a warm, golden glow over the pathway. Her eyes searched the area until they landed on Sunghoon, who was standing by the old wooden bench. The lamp illuminated his face, and he looked up as she approached.

The sight of her, framed by the soft light of the streetlamp, took his breath away. The white cardigan contrasted with her long, dark hair, giving her an almost angelic appearance. His heart ached as he saw her—beautiful, serene, and entirely too good for the mess he felt he had become.

When she reached him, he didn't say a word. Instead, he closed the distance between them and pulled her into a tight hug. The embrace was warm and comforting, and Y/n hesitated only for a moment before wrapping her arms around him in return.

"What's going on?" she asked softly, her voice muffled by his shoulder. "Why did you want to see me?"

Sunghoon buried his face in her hair, his voice barely audible as he mumbled, "I just... I needed to see you. I’m sorry for how I acted the other day. I was wrong to push you away."

The sincerity in his voice made her heart ache. She could feel the tension in his body, the regret in his touch. She held him a little tighter, her own feelings swirling—relief, concern, and an overwhelming sense of compassion.

"Why didn't you just tell me what was going on?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

He sighed, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes. The shadows of the night danced across his face, but the vulnerability in his gaze was unmistakable. "I didn’t want to drag you into my problems. I thought it would be better if I handled it alone."

Y/n shook her head, her eyes filled with empathy. "You don’t have to go through things alone. I’m here for you, no matter what."

A faint smile touched his lips, a glimmer of hope breaking through his troubled expression. "I know now. I should have known better."

They stood there for a moment, the silence between them filled with unspoken words and emotions. The cool night air seemed to hold its breath as they embraced again, the world outside fading away.

"Thank you for coming," he said softly, his voice a gentle murmur.

She smiled up at him, her heart lighter despite the heavy conversation. "I’ll always come when you need me."

As they stood together under the streetlamp’s warm glow, it felt as though the night had woven a fragile thread of understanding and connection between them—one that would help mend the rift that had formed.

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

PART TWO | YOU CAME TO ME, MY ANGEL

MASTERLIST

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, lxvsiick, 2024