#impulse why i'm crying

[sprinklesharkie]

GET ROTATED

[larsgoingtomars]

I- I just seen a meme and

Damn it reminded me of my parents/very neg

It was a scene from a TV show

"You don't know because you don't THINK. YOU NEVER THINK."

Isk what its from but thags been said to me

[lordplavis]

I feel like if there were just a tiny bit more pressure it would break the already over strained damm holding back the madness and depravity safely held back in the deep dark corners of my mind and unleash a flood of post containing unprecedented levels of thirst horniness and various other expression of different mortal sins onto this site that would tarnish not only my reputation beyond repair but would probably also turn my blog and it's near vicinity into something that would turn you into a pillar of salt if you looked back at it.

Anyways thanks for reading.

Here have a Puppy : 🐕

[noxtivagus]

REMEMBER that one cutscene in shadowbringers w. ykyk those two blondes 🥹

[crimsonbubble]

no bc just imagine how sexually frustrated miguel would be after chasing you around like cat and mouse… the breeding has entered the chat

cw. nsfw, afab!reader, breeding kink, creampies, hair pulling, degradation, overstimulation, a bit of manhandling, improper use of webs *not proofread, just pure horny

[I want him so bad why can't he be real 😔😔😔]

MINORS DNI!!

he's getting tired of this, but your pretty eyes and soft lips draw in him each time he swore that he wouldn't fall for your games. as tired as he is, he always lets you get away with it.

letting you get away with it a little too easily. though now he's stopped his chasing, trying to keep himself occupied to stop himself from playing into your games. he can feel your eyes on him, burning into his back as he continues working through anomaly reports.

as you tried to sneak up on him, you felt something spread across your chest, wrapping around your arms. with a sharp tug, miguel pulled you into him. you collided with his chest, a hand holding his webs and a hand on your lower back. you struggled against the webs, only making him spread more around you.

miguel quickly tugged your mask off, a smirk playing on his lips as he saw the shock written on your face. "not so tough now, huh?" you struggled against the webs again, trying to pull yourself away from him. "don't try and run from me now, you earned this."

miguel let out a grunt, pushing you up against his desk. he pressed a heavy hand to your back, webbing your wrists together. with little to no care, his talons rip through the crotch of your spider suit. the cloth is torn to shreds on the platform. "you've been nothing but a pain in the ass,"

miguel takes in the sight of you bound in crimson webs and bent over his desk. "a real thorn in my side." you try to peer over your shoulder only for miguel to press your head down to his desk. "we're not done til I say we're done." he disengages his suit with a flash, grinding his throbbing cock through your folds.

"you're lucky I'm even letting you have my cock." he says this yet he's just as needy for you as you are for him. the back and forth, the pushing and pulling, the cat and mouse games; he loves them but sometimes all he really wants is to web you up and fuck you til your legs give out.

and that is exactly what he's going to do. miguel lets his own fantasies and desires lead him, letting himself act on his impulses. miguel bottomed out in one sharp thrust, your walls convulsing and tightening around him as he fucked you. each thrust was heavier than the last, hips hips knocking you up further onto his desk.

with the hand pushing your face into his desk, he's tangling his fingers into your hair, pulling your head back as he rocked his hips into yours. you can't get words out because of how rough his pace is. miguel set a hand on your hip, using it to pull your ass back on his dick.

every thrust in and pull back forced his cock deeper, stretching your walls to accommodate his size. you're practically seeing stars shoot across your vision, mouth hanging open with each moan and cry that leaves you breathier than the last. with how easily miguel is leading you to orgasm, you know that you're not getting out of this for a while.

"only the first and you're already this fuckin' messy, huh?" the condescending tone makes your pussy flutter, as miguel tracks a finger over your pulsing clit. he rubs circles against the throbbing bud as you tumble head first into another orgasm. "m-miggy-" the words are caught in your throat, being passed by lewd cries and heavy moans.

your slick is gushing around his cock, and the wet noises of skin on skin finally make it to your ringing ears. miguel pushes your head against his desk again, grunting as he speeds through his release. it's a flood of warmth as miguel keeps his pace, groaning as much cum spills out of you. "fuck, look at you. such a messy little thing."

you can't tell up from down as miguel guides you to another orgasm. you're trying to alleviate the heavy plows of his hips by raising to your toes, but it only motivates miguel to go even harder, as if he's trying to knock the sense out of you. your eyes are blurring with tears, the stinging of the overstimulation starting to bite.

in a feeble attempt at pushing miguel away, he pins your wrists against your back. he uses it as more leverage to pull you back on his cock, letting another heavy load paint your walls white. "it's okay, take it just like that." the moans he's letting out are deep and guttural, a noise you would've missed if you weren't being drowned in his mere presence.

you're struggling against the webs again, the tingle of the overstimulation reaching new heights. miguels superhuman nature granted him increased stamina and endurance, making it easy for him to ride out his second high while you're crashing through your third. "c'mon now, is that all you got?"

you outwardly whine at his words, pushing your hips back to meet him halfway. miguel leans down, his chest to your back as he kisses up your neck. his fangs pushed against your skin, lightly grazing it with a featherlike pressure. it's as if he's teasing the idea that he could sink his teeth in. he very much could but he wants you to feel everything that he's doing to you.

he's got you trapped, and he doesn't intend on letting you go any time soon.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Heart V

Mapi León x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader

Summary: You're sick

Ingrid knew there would be health issues throughout your life. She knew that routine doctor's appointments would happen every year for you. She knew that the medication you took lowered your immune system.

She knew that at some point, you'd get sick.

She didn't realise it would be this quickly.

You woke with the sniffles which turned into a sore throat and then a headache and a bad tummy. It all spiralled from there.

It started on the weekend.

Saturday was spent going to a check up. Sunday was game day but on the drive home, you threw up all over yourself.

Monday was a day off and it was clear that you had no hope of getting better quickly. You were sniffly and tearful and it was an all-around bad time for everyone.

They take it in shifts with you. Ingrid stays with you for one half of the night. Mapi takes the rest of it.

There's twenty minute powernaps fitted in between it all when they can manage but most of their time is spent up with you as you struggle to find sleep.

"Mapi!" Ingrid calls," Come on, we've got to get to the car!"

She paces the length of the apartment with you in her arms. Your nose is all stuffy and you've woken up with the worst case of blocked ears of your life.

It's clear your ears are giving you the most grief. You whine and huff and desperately pull at them as if it will dislodge the build up in them.

Mapi's getting changed from her evening shift with you and Ingrid can do nothing but pace and pat your back in the hope of settling you back down.

It's been another bad night. You slept in short half an hour bursts in between crying, puking and crying some more.

Mapi skids into the room, still in her socks as she throws things into your bag, stocking up on medicine and water and your favourite toys. She hops around the room as she forces her shoes onto her feet before practically sprinting out of the door.

You make it to training just on time despite your awful wails the entire journey.

Patri and Pina both wince as Ingrid walks in with your sobbing form.

"What's wrong with her?"

"She's sick," Ingrid says plainly," Badly. The doctor said it's the flu."

As if to prove her point, you burst into a violent coughing fit and Mapi is instantly trying to soothe your throat with water as soon as it's over.

"Did you give her medicine?"

Ingrid angrily drops her bag into her cubby. "Oh, wow, Patri! What a revolutionary concept?! Giving medicine to my sick toddler! Why didn't we think of that?!" She snaps.

Ingrid sighs deeply as she looks at herself in the mirror.

"Sorry," She says after a long breadth of silence," I'm tired. I didn't mean to shout."

"No," Patri says quickly," You've clearly got a lot on your plate. I hope the little one feels better soon."

There's a respite briefly during training when you decide the hot Barcelona sun is perfect for napping in and you sleep under a tree nearby, wrapped up in a blanket despite the warm weather.

Mapi learnt very quickly not to fight you when you said you were cold despite the fever ravaging your body. All she can do is hope that the extra warmth breaks your fever so you can feel better when you wake up.

She's kind of happy with the outcome of your nap.

You've sweated out your fever which is good but you still feel bad. Your nose is still stuffy and you keep rubbing at your ears to unblock them.

The worst part of this now is that you've got clingier than ever before. You latch onto Mapi as soon as you see her and refuse to let go.

She's kind of glad all they're doing now is general fitness stuff because there's no way she could do anything technical with you still attached.

It's pushing it doing fitness stuff too but Mapi had come prepared.

It was an impulse purchase when you first fell sick and Ingrid had laughed until she cried when it arrived. Mapi was not dissuaded and she brought out her purchase, ignoring the snickering from Patri and Pina behind her.

With you still clingy and wanting nothing more than to crawl into Mami's skin, you let her manipulate your limbs into the toddler carrier.

She straps you in and then straps it to her chest.

She stands and has to find her balance quickly before triumphantly turning around to show everyone her solution.

They all laugh but Mapi doesn't care, not with the way you relax so easily against her and not when you fall into another fitful sleep.

[asidian]

Alright. It is time. Buckle up.

Why you should be watching Dead Boy Detectives: the targeted-specifically-at my-readers edition.

Meet the leads, our two ghost boys:

Edwin Payne: Fussy, repressed intellectual type from the Edwardian era. Exceedingly gay for his partner and best friend. Tortured in hell for seventy years on a technicality because he was ritually sacrificed as a prank gone wrong. Endearingly awful at people and dealing with emotions or his own wants.

Charles Rowland: Impulsive, people-pleasing wildcard from the 80s. Heart eyes 24/7 at his best friend but has zero self-awareness. Badly abused by his asshole of a father. Beaten to death because he saved a kid from bullies. Endearingly awful at sorting his own emotions or talking about his problems.

Some highlights:

/slaps hood you can fit so much trauma in these two

Both leads get sobbing breakdowns that happen on screen. The actors are incredible at crying

Both leads get much-needed hugs

The absolute devotion between the two of them. The shared history that lives in their dialogue and how they work together like people who have been each other's Most Important Person for literal decades

I mean, I'm talking in-canon Orpheus and Eurydice reference level of devotion here

The protective way Charles puts himself physically between Edwin and damn near every threat in the show

They're just fun together. Their interactions and banter and how they work as a team is a delight

Their shared plot arc literally involves them learning to talk to each other and communicate more so that they can be there for one another about their respective issues

The symbolism. God. They are metaphorically and literally one another's light in the darkness

But what about stuff that isn't the main duo? Just wait, there's more:

This show is unabashedly, unapologetically queer. It's there in the text and the subtext. The whole show lives and breathes it

So many good, complex, well-written female characters. The Bechdel test gets blown straight out of the water in episode one and they never look back. Headstrong amnesiac psychic learning to be a better person! Quirky meta commentary matchmaker! Cynical lesbian butcher! Delightfully sadistic witch! They are all amazing.

[audience voice] But I'm here for the hurt/comfort. How can I whump ghosts? Worry not, my friends. Canon has you covered. Not only are there ways, there are ways that happen on-screen. The hurt/comfort and rescue are also on-screen. Yes, it is amazing

Absolute chaos, really cool supernatural cases and creatures, a surprising amount of humor, charming writing, and a cast that absolutely nails it on the acting and chemistry

There is an extremely suggestive trickster type who is also the king of cats. He's a cat in human form. He hits on Edwin nonstop. Charles gets blisteringly jealous

All of the leads have well-thought-through, fully developed, emotional character arcs. They're all messy and flawed and sometimes lash out in their pain, but at turns can be incredibly supportive and kind and loyal

A character who is a crow who is also a boy, who is tortured by his witch/creator and also is crushing hard on one of the leads

There are so many incredible details in the setting, costume choices, prop decisions, etc. that you only catch after you know what it's laying the groundwork for. The level of care that went into this show is phenomenal

It's only eight episodes. The time investment barrier to entry could not possibly be lower

Anyway, tl;dr, if any of this sounds appealing to you, you should give this show a watch.

Dead Boy Detectives is well worth your time. It's easily my favorite show in years.

[burntoutdaydreamer]

To Write Better Antagonists, Have Them Embody the Protagonist's Struggles

(Spoilers for The Devil Wears Prada, Avatar the Last Airbender, Kung Fu Panda 2, and The Hunger Games triology).

Writing antagonists and villains can be hard, especially if you don't know how to do so.

I think a lot of writers' first impulse is to start off with a placeholder antagonist, only to find that this character ends up falling flat. They finish their story only for readers to find the antagonist is not scary or threatening at all.

Often the default reaction to this is to focus on making the antagonist meaner, badder, or scarier in whatever way they can- or alternatively they introduce a Tragic Backstory to make them seem broken and sympathetic. Often, this ends up having the exact opposite effect. Instead of a compelling and genuinely terrifying villain, the writer ends up with a Big Bad Edge Lord who the reader just straight up does not care about, or actively rolls their eyes at (I'm looking at you, Marvel).

What makes an antagonist or villain intimidating is not the sheer power they hold, but the personal or existential threat they pose to the protagonist. Meaning, their strength as a character comes from how they tie into the themes of the story.

To show what I mean, here's four examples of the thematic roles an antagonist can serve:

1. A Dark Reflection of the Protagonist

The Devil Wears Prada

Miranda Priestly is initially presented as a terrible boss- which she is- but as the movie goes on, we get to see her in a new light. We see her as an bonafide expert in her field, and a professional woman who���s incredible at what she does. We even begin to see her personal struggles behind the scenes, where it’s clear her success has come at a huge personal cost. Her marriages fall apart, she spends every waking moment working, and because she’s a woman in the corporate world, people are constantly trying to tear her down.

The climax of the movie, and the moment that leaves the viewer most disturbed, does not feature Miranda abusing Andy worse than ever before, but praising her. Specifically, she praises her by saying “I see a great deal of myself in you.” Here, we realize that, like Miranda, Andy has put her job and her career before everything else that she cares about, and has been slowly sacrificing everything about herself just to keep it. While Andy's actions are still a far cry from Miranda's sadistic and abusive managerial style, it's similar enough to recognize that if she continues down her path, she will likely end up turning into Miranda.

In the movie's resolution, Andy does not defeat Miranda by impressing her or proving her wrong (she already did that around the half way mark). Instead, she rejects the values and ideals that her toxic workplace has been forcing on her, and chooses to leave it all behind.

2. An Obstacle to the Protagonist's Ideals

Avatar: The Last Airbender

Fire Lord Ozai is a Big Bad Baddie without much depth or redemptive qualities. Normally this makes for a bad antagonist (and it's probably the reason Ozai has very little screen time compared to his children), but in Avatar: The Last Airbender, it works.

Why?

Because his very existence is a threat to Aang's values of nonviolence and forgiveness.

Fire Lord Ozai cannot be reasoned with. He plans to conquer and burn down the world, and for most of the story, it seems that the only way to stop him is to kill him, which goes against everything Aang stands for. Whether or not Aang could beat the Fire Lord was never really in question, at least for any adults watching the show. The real tension of the final season came from whether Aang could defeat the Fire Lord without sacrificing the ideals he inherited from the nomads; i.e. whether he could fulfill the role of the Avatar while remaining true to himself and his culture.

In the end, he manages to find a way: he defeats the Fire Lord not by killing him, but by stripping him of his powers.

3. A Symbol of the Protagonist's Inner Struggle

Kung Fu Panda 2

Kung Fu Panda 2 is about Po's quest for inner peace, and the villain, Lord Shen, symbolizes everything that's standing in his way.

Po and Lord Shen have very different stories that share one thing in common: they both cannot let go of the past. Lord Shen is obsessed with proving his parents wrong and getting vengeance by conquering all of China. Po is struggling to come to terms with the fact that he is adopted and is desperate to figure out who he is and why he ended up left in a box of radishes as a baby.

Lord Shen symbolizes Po's inner struggle in two main ways: one, he was the source of the tragedy that separated him from his parents, and two, he reinforces Po's negative assumptions about himself. When Po realizes that Lord Shen knows about his past and confronts him, Lord Shen immediately tells Po exactly what he's afraid of hearing: that his parents abandoned him because they didn't love him. Po and the Furious Five struggle to beat Shen not because he's powerful, but because Po can't let go of the past, and this causes him to repeatedly freeze up in battle, which Shen uses to his advantage.

Po overcomes Shen when he does the one thing Shen is incapable of: he lets go of the past and finds inner peace. Po comes to terms with his tragic past and recognizes that it does not define him, while Shen holds on to his obsession of defying his fate, which ultimately leads to his downfall.

4. A Representative of a Harsh Reality or a Bigger System

The Hunger Games

We don't really see President Snow do all that much on his own. Most of the direct conflict that Katniss faces is not against him, but against his underlings and the larger Capitol government. The few interactions we see between her and President Snow are mainly the two of them talking, and this is where we see the kind of threat he poses.

President Snow never lies to Katniss, not even once, and this is the true genius behind his character. He doesn't have to lie to or deceive Katniss, because the truth is enough to keep her complicit.

Katniss knows that fighting Snow and the Capital will lead to total war and destruction- the kind where there are survivors, but no winners. Snow tells her to imagine thousands upon thousands of her people dead, and that's exactly what happens. The entirety of District 12 gets bombed to ashes, Peeta gets brainwashed and turned into a human weapon, and her sister Prim, the very person she set out to protect at the beginning of the story, dies just before the Capitol's surrender. The districts won, but at a devastating cost.

Even after President Snow is captured and put up for execution, he continues to hurt Katniss by telling her the truth. He tells her that the bombs that killed her sister Prim were not sent by him, but by the people on her side. He brings to her attention that the rebellion she's been fighting for might just implement a regime just as oppressive and brutal as the one they overthrew and he's right.

In the end, Katniss is not the one to kill President Snow. She passes up her one chance to kill him to take down President Coin instead.

[joonsytip]

Only for Love || Mingyu [Teaser]

Pairings: Mingyu x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Husband!Mingyu, Cold Wife!Reader, Arranged Marriage au, Contract Marriage au, Divorce au

Synopsis: When an accidental discovery has your perception of happy married life crumbling down, you do what you think is the best for everyone involved. Naturally, your opinion of the best doesn't cater to your husband's. So what happens when things spiral out due to unforeseen events?

Warnings: Reader is cold but also shy, Mingyu is gullible and impulsive, lack of communication, misunderstanding, miscommunication, reader is objectified once, hurt, crying, profanities, mentions of divorce, sexual intimacy, mentions of pregnancy, rest will be specified under the part when published

Main story out now checkout here!

[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]

"Let's get divorced."

When Mingyu came home late at night to see you awake and waiting for him, there was an uncanny feeling that settled within.

Your hands are crossed, face void of any expression. If not for your next words, Mingyu would think he's hallucinating.

"We can decide on the terms and clauses, all as per your convenience.", you stress, "I do not expect any trouble from your side."

Mingyu finally registers everything you have said till now and everything hits him all at once.

"W-What are you talking about? Why do you want a divorce all of a sudden?"

Your monotonous tone rather asks him another question, "We have been married for over two years, nearing it's third anniversary. Do you want to be tied in this marriage?"

Though Mingyu thinks he doesn't know you well enough but he knows you enough to catch the wind of your words.

His gaze turns towards his office room and his suspicion confirms to be correct when he sees the door opened ajar.

"Why did you enter my office? I had clearly warned you about not doing so.", he says in a strict voice.

"That doesn't answer my question.", you say getting up, "Anyways it doesn't matter anymore, I want you to move out of our shared bedroom right now and shift to the guest room. I'll get a lawyer, you get one too and proceed with the divorce."

As you turn back, you feel your husband's hand wrap around yours.

"How are you so calm? Why are you not asking me anything? Do I really mean nothing to you?", you hear a string of questions falling out of his lips, "We are married for almost three years now and your cool headedness after, I'm assuming, knowing everything makes me aware of the fact that I really don't know you."

You jerk your hand out of his grip and turn back to look at him, "And how is that my fault? Maybe you've never tried to know me.", your voice drops another octave, "You can stop with the doting husband act, now that I know the truth."

Mingyu doesn't miss the way your eyes show vulnerability for a moment. Your words strike a chord within him.

"I'll sleep in the guest room.", Mingyu says in defeat, "And we're gonna talk it out tomorrow morning.", he sounds sincere when he says, "I'm sorry. I hope you'll give me a chance to explain everything."

But little does he know, you've already closed the room for any diversions, that you've decided to part ways with the person who has betrayed your trust.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip.

[coff33andb00ks]

Until You - Part Two

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

charles leclerc x female pop singer!reader x oscar piastri f1 smau with intermittent scenes fc: none it's a mix of taylor swift, sabrina carpenter, and random pinterest ladies. {voice claim is adele}

Summary: he drives vroom vrooms, she sings soulful tunes. there's no way in hell this is gonna work, right? Warnings: language, implied smut (18+ only), oscar is a simp, lando is a horrible wingman, reader is a fangirl

Y/n set her phone aside and laughed as Leo jumped over onto her, headbutting her chin then licking it while she rubbed him. Charles stretched out, gently pulling the dog from her face.

"He's a bit insane," he apologized, rolling his eyes when Leo immediately scampered back to tuck his head under her chin.

"If he keeps loving on me like this I might smuggle him out," she teased, smiling as Charles laughed.

"You'd steal my dog?" he asked, clicking his tongue. Leo's ears perked up and y/n gasped as she was abandoned. Charles cooed at the puppy, cuddling him close.

"Not steal. Borrow." Reaching over, she smoothed her hand over the pup's back, not really surprised when he suddenly flopped onto his side, yawning with a squeak.

"You can babysit?" Charles offered, looking up at her with a smile.

"Hm… I don't know. What's the pay rate?" Watching as Leo nestled his head against Charles' shoulder, eyes drooping.

"My undying thanks, Leo's devotion… Paddock passes?" He leaned his head back. "A kiss?"

She blushed, thinking of the unexpected but very welcome kiss they'd shared on a dark street while walking Leo. The sweetness and tenderness had been sorely needed. Sighing, though, she shook her head. "I don't even get a Ferrari? I'll pass."

His chuckle was, like his company had been all evening, warm and soothing. "You don't have one already?"

"If I'm in New York or London my assistant arranges for a driver. And it's pointless having one in LA. I have a Mercedes but I rarely… Actually, I don't. That was his." She shrugged, impulsively scooping Leo up and settling him against her chest. He squirmed a little then relaxed and she sighed, knowing Charles understood her need for puppy snuggles.

The room was silent for a moment, Charles shifting so was next to her. "Why did you cry for yourself at the show, chérie?"

"I was stupid," she whispered. "I fell for everything he said. When I met him the first time people told me he was bad news but I just thought they were jealous, and when I told him he said they were crazy. And I believed it. By the time I realized they were right it was too late."

"That doesn't make you stupid. You were young when you met, yes?" he asked gently.

"Twenty-one."

"Exactly. So you weren't stupid, chérie. You were naïve."

"Perfect prey for a guy like him," she sighed. "I thought I was living my childhood dream because not only was I a singer, I was dating my childhood crush."

"He was your crush?" Charles made a face.

"I was like ten when his stupid Baby song came out," she defended.

"Ah, we were all stupid at that age." He nodded.

"I just…" She sighed, pressing her face into Leo's fur for a few seconds. When she lifted her head she stared straight ahead. "I feel like he played a colossal joke on me. He said all the right things at first and when he showed his true side I was too in love to want to give up on us."

Charles's hand slid over hers. He sat up, his expression concerned. "Did he…"

"Not physically," she murmured, answering the question he asked with his eyes. "He wounded with words. When I got excited about a new song I was working on he always downplayed it, you know? I got the opportunity to perform Your Song this year at the Grammy's—"

"It was beautiful," he said. "You said you would play it all the time as a child."

"And he—" She blinked in surprise. "You remember that?"

"It was during the lockdowns, no? The video of you playing and singing it at home went viral. I watched it a lot while I was learning piano."

"Wait." She laughed, shocked. "You watched me while you taught yourself piano?"

"Because I saw the video and you said you were self taught." His smile was almost bashful. "It was one of the first pieces I learned to play."

"But you've never played it publicly."

He shrugged. "It belongs to you."

"It belongs to Elton, I just borrowed it." She looked across the room, through the doorway where she could just see his grand piano. "Will you play for me?"

Charles protested weakly. "Chérie, I'm still not as good as you—"

"Please?" she murmured.

He sighed, looking at her for a moment. Then, sighing again, he nodded. She smiled, gently transferring Leo to the sofa and getting to her feet. Charles led her through to the piano, and she looked around the room, taking in the décor and noting that he had recording equipment in the corner.

"It won't disturb the neighbors will it?" she asked, joining him on the piano bench.

"No, they never complain when I play." He lifted the cover and let out a breath. "I feel like I am back in school doing reviews."

She giggled. "I promise not to grade you harshly."

He ran his fingers lightly over the keys, and as soon as he began to play she felt him relax. She couldn't help but hum along softly. He glanced at her, smiling, and she drew in a breath when he gave her a nod. "I am playing, you should sing," he said, tipping his head. "Please."

"The last verse," she agreed, turning on the bench so she faced him. Waiting for his nod, she admired his side profile and the focus with which he played, already aware that music was a passion of his. She began to sing, watching him, blinking and then finding him looking at her as she sang the line I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue and oh, they were both blue and green and she scooted back a little when she felt herself starting to fall into them. When his playing softened she softened her voice, watching his eyes light with something akin to admiration.

"Oh… I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind… That I put down in words… How wonderful… Life is… While you're in the world…"

She wasn't sure if he leaned in or if she did, or if they did it at the same time. But the music seemed to echo around them as their lips met, stealing her breath and drawing her closer to him. It seemed so natural to be kissing him again, and when he stopped playing abruptly and his hands cradled her cheeks she finally let herself touch him, tentatively resting her hand on the side of his neck.

"Y/n," he moaned, breaking the kiss and resting his forehead against hers.

"We shouldn't," she whispered.

"I know," he agreed.

His breath caressed her lips and she shivered. "People will talk."

"Do you care?" he whispered.

"No, but…" She stared into his eyes, both hands sliding to cup the back of his neck. "Please just… I can't let myself fall for you, Charles. I can't get played again."

"I don't play," he murmured, tracing her cheek with his knuckles.

"How can I know that you're not full of tricks and unkept promises?" she asked, pulling away. His fingers trailed down to her chin and she felt a twinge of regret when she heard his sigh.

"You can't ever know, can you?" He lightly plinked the piano keys.

"I guess not." Pulling one foot up onto the bench, she rested her chin on her knee. She watched his hand move over the keys, unintentionally humming. "Play that again?"

He did, shifting to give her room when she reached to add a few chords.

"Take a bow… To the crowd… The joke's on me," she sang gently.

Charles hummed, nodding as they played through it again. And, apparently realizing what she was doing, he stood and left the room, coming back a moment later with her phone and his iPad. "Do you need pen and paper?"

"No, my phone's good, thank you."

He sat next to her, and when he shifted she realized Leo was tucked in the pocket of his hoodie. "Would you prefer I leave?"

She shook her head, opening her phone's camera and starting a video. "I need your input and help."

He scoffed at that, bending to place Leo in the soft dog bed beneath the piano. "You're the professional, mon couer."

"See, you say things like my heart and say you don't play," she teased, actually laughing when he bumped her shoulder with his.

"It's how I speak, amour."

"I'll believe that when you talk to Max or Lewis and call them your heart," she snorted.

"You have a point," he conceded with a sigh. "But I do not play."

"Only the piano, right?" she asked, ending the video and starting a new one.

"Only the piano, yes." He leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. "Shall I play for you, mon couer?"

"Please? While I work on lyrics."

He kept calling her the professional but his input was better than from some who'd been in the industry for decades. And she knew it was because music for him wasn't a career, it was an outlet. He played and composed with emotion, not with a care for how much money it would make him.

"Again?" he asked an hour later.

Taking a sip of the tea he'd brewed for them, she nodded. "I think we've got it, Charles."

"Will you record it?" He took his place in front of the piano while she stretched.

"Yeah, video's going," she told him.

"I mean to publish."

"Oh. I guess? My manager can handle the rights and crediting and royalties for you."

He shrugged. "I don't need the royalties, mon couer."

"Would you record it with me?" she asked once they'd played through the entire song fully.

"You would want me?" He sounded surprised and she turned to him, ending the video and immediately emailing it to herself.

"Of course. It's your song too. Your melody. I'd love to be in the studio with you." Thinking of how busy he would be for the rest of the season, she locked her phone. "I'm sure we can find a studio nearby for us to use before I leave."

He chuckled. "You find one, amour, and I will be there."

"Thank you," she whispered, hugging him. His arms wound around her and she closed her eyes, letting herself enjoy the warmth and gentleness of his embrace. They both began to pull away at the same time, both freezing when his cheek brushed hers.

She was well aware it could be a big mistake, that she had once again fallen for the right words, and she would be left alone and cold once more. But she turned her head slightly, barely brushing his lips with hers. His arms tightened as he caught her in a gentle kiss and it felt different and she couldn't begin to explain how. Last time there had been the element of danger, the excitement and the butterflies and fireworks. But Charles…

He guided her to her feet, somehow keeping his lips on hers. He didn't pull her with him from the room, his hands at her waist keeping her steady.

It was warmth and safety. Exciting, yes, but calming at the same time. He wasn't an ice cold energy drink that would leave her buzzing and her heart racing. He was a cup of hot tea on a cold winter's day. His gentle touch soothed her even as it aroused her. When he sat on the foot of his bed she hesitated only a second before straddling his thighs, kneeling over him.

"Do you want music, chérie?" he whispered, leaning back slightly.

"Don't need it," she promised, shivering as his hands slipped under the shirt he'd loaned her, his fingers caressing and leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"Candles?" He grunted and chuckled when she lightly shoved his shoulders. Lying back, he stared up at her, humming through a sigh while one hand left her skin, reaching to stroke the curve of her jaw. "He didn't deserve you."

"Is this where I say 'no one does'?" she murmured, leaning over him. "Or do I say maybe you do?"

"Don't blow up my ego," he whispered, sitting up to meet her in another kiss.

YN laughed while she signed the CD, nodding when one of the mechanics asked if she would sign something for his niece. Ynbff was already on it, pulling a copy of the CD from her bag and YN signed it for him, handing it over with a smile then spending a few moments to take pictures. They then decided to walk along, mainly so yn could work off some of her nervous energy.

Pete stayed close as they walked along in front of the garages. YN walked slowly, breathing in the scent of the sea mixed with the aroma of fuel and rubber. Taking a few photos, she couldn't keep the smile from her face as drivers walked up to introduce themselves. As they neared the McLaren garage she snapped a photo of the car, stopping long enough to post it to her story.

ynyln has added to their story

"YN," Ellie hissed.

She jerked her head up, eyes widening at the sight of Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri standing with her assistant. "Shit, sorry," she mumbled, stepping forward. "Hi."

"Found your way to us at last?" Lando teased, an easy grin on his face once the introductions had been made.

"Wild horses couldn't keep me away."

Oscar snorted, grinning. "Heh, nice one."

"Thanks." Smiling up at him, she missed the knowing look on Lando's face as he looked between them.

"Oh this is mint – Catch ya later yeah? Media," he said, moving to shake YN's hand then turning to ynbff. "You said you wanted a drink, right? Follow me – you don't mind right YN? Perfect."

YN blinked as he easily swept her friend away, leaving her alone with Oscar. And Pete, but he was chatting with a couple of the mechanics. Turning to smile at her favorite driver, she cleared her throat. "You're doing great this season so far," she said.

"You think so?"

"Well yeah. You're already ahead in points as opposed to last year at this time. I know you've had a couple less than stellar races this season, but you're consistently top five and you had fasted laps a few weeks ago at Miami. You'll get a podium soon I know, and you're definitely good enough to get your first win." Realizing she was starting one of her rambles, she felt her cheeks grow warm and pressed her lips together. "I'm not biased, honestly. Just because you're my favorite driver—"

"I'm your favorite driver?" he asked softly.

She was sure she imagined the hint of wonder in his voice. "Well… Yeah."

He grinned and she was momentarily dazzled. "I'm honored."

"You're young and passionate, and more importantly, you're good. I've seen people brush you off because you don't have an outlandish personality but I think it's a benefit to you. If you steadily cry for attention people won't be surprised when you earn it."

As she talked she moved, and she didn't realize they were walking together until they reached the barrier. He leaned against it, continuing to tell her about his late night drive of the circuit as soon as he'd arrived in Monaco.

mclaren

liked by charles_leclrec, ybffn, oscarpiastri, landonorris, and others mclaren: We think we've discovered ynyln's favorite driver 👀 What are you talking about, oscarpiastri??      scuderiaferrari: please return our guest 😤               mclaren: no 😌      landonorris: you mean I'm not the favorite??????      user5: stop this is so cute!!      user9: her face tho. same, yn, same      user4: the way he's smiling omg

ynyln

liked by mclaren, ybffn, oscarpiastri, landonorris, and others ynyln: it was completely accidental that I found myself near the McLaren garage, and this lovely guy from Australia was kind enough to tell me how I got lost then escorted me back to Ferrari. Undying thanks to oscarpiastri, otherwise I'd still be wandering the streets of Monaco. (Ferrari's jokingly(?) threatened to lock me in hospitality for the rest of the weekend)      mclaren: blink twice if you need rescuing      oscarpiastri: always happy to help out 😊 (liked by author)               user4: oh no he has no rizz 😩      user5: ugh this is so flipping cute      user2: he's blushing!!!! AGH

ynyln

liked by charles_leclrec, mclaren, oscarpiastri, landonorris, and others ynyln: an amazing day. I'm in awe at all the work and dedication that goes into the vroom vrooms. Thank you so much scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, f1! (Now to crash because I'm waking up at 5am)      scuderiaferrari: ❤️❤️❤️      charles_leclerc: it is already an honor. This week is going to be incredible!               ynyln: c'est déjà incroyable               user2: oop               user3: "an honor" sir she stayed at ur house last night      oscarpiastri: 5am?? Do you hate yourself?               ynyln: sometimes but this is for TOP SECRET RECORDING               oscarpiastri: Is it top secret because it's top secret or because you're doing it so early?               oscarpiastri: also please don't hate yourself               ynyln: it's a human weakness I'm afraid. And it's top secret because I haven't told the label I'm working on new songs already. But I promise to work on my self esteem               oscarpiastri: I can't wait to hear them.               ynyln: if I don't pass out I'll drop by mclaren's garage and give you an early access listen               oscarpiastri: you can pass out at our garage (liked by author)               user4: maybe he does have rizz      mclaren: we can kick lando out of his room if you need a nap tomorrow, YN (liked by author and oscarpiastri)               landonorris: no??               mclaren: changing the access code now               ynyln: I watched the hub tour, can I take oscar's room? (liked by oscarpiastri)               mclaren: done               oscarpiastri: wait      user8: hey scuderiaferrari, mclaren's tryna steal your girl               scuderiaferrari: she'll have extra security tomorrow

"OSCAR!"

Oscar jerked, nearly hitting his head on the underside of the shelf, as Lando burst into his room. "Jesus Christ, mate," he groaned, backing out and turning to look at his teammate. "What?"

"Are you fixing the room up for YN?" Lando waggled his eyebrows as he looked around.

"Oh fuck off," he muttered, going back to plug in his laptop. "How are you this energetic so early?"

"Early?" Lando scoffed, flopping onto the couch. "It's almost noon. We've got the thing in forty-five minutes—"

"And you have nothing better to do than annoy me?" Oscar asked, kicking Lando's feet off the couch before sitting down to open his laptop.

"No? But also I'm here to offer my services."

With a heavy sigh, Oscar closed his laptop and set it aside. "What are you talking about?"

"You and YN."

Oscar just stared at him. "There's no and."

Lando waved one hand. "I saw the pictures, mate. Did you see the pictures?"

"Pretty sure I did? What the fuck are you talking about?"

Sitting up, Lando whipped out his phone and opened his photo album. "One perk to being so nice is the social media admin sends me any pics I ask him to." Swiping through, he pulled up one and turned his phone so Oscar could see. "Exhibit A."

It was the same photo posted to the official mclaren account. The one of he and YN chatting at the barricade. "It's two people talking."

"That's not the point – It's the looking," Lando pushed the phone closer to him. "Until I saw this I didn't really understand the heart eyes for days meme but now? Osc, mate, she's into you."

He let out a humorless chuckle. "And you call me a muppet. No she's not."

"What were you talking about that had her smiling like that?" Lando swiped to another photo.

"I dunno." About home. Not a house, but the feeling of belonging. And how important music was in destroying barriers of language and lifestyles. He could have talked to her for hours, could have listened to her talk about what she used to escape her demons for days. "I think music."

"And here?"

Oscar kept his face blank, as though he wasn't staring at himself blushing and giggling over what YN had said.

"I know you care but sometimes your whole attitude is literally 'I don't give a fuck about this' in interviews and I gotta say: same."

"Ah… Media I think." He cleared his throat and got to his feet.

"Mate, it's alright to like her."

No it wasn't. "It's not like that."

"Right so you telling her the view from the dog's head is enchanting was just small talk?"

Lando was not going to let this go. "She saw my video of my hike and asked about it."

"And?" Lando threw up his hands when Oscar just looked at him. "That was your cue to say oh it's lovely, why don't we go together one morning!"

"Er… No, I'd never say something like that." Oscar shook his head. Not to mention she was tangled up with Charles...

"That's the problem—" Lando cut off when the door opened. One of the PR team popped her head in.

"Hi Oscar, you've got a visitor. She said you're expecting her so I'll bring her up?"

"Uh… Sure?" Oscar winced as his voice cracked on the word, dragging his hands over his face as the door clicked shut.

"Who's coming to see you?" Lando asked suspiciously, helping himself to one of the drinks from the fridge.

"I don't have a clue," he sighed.

"Maybe it's YN. She promised to drop by so you can hear her new music right?"

"Are you constantly reading comments?" Oscar muttered. "Yeah she did but I doubt she'd come straight—" He gulped when there was a knock at the door.

"Oh this is gonna be great," Lando giggled, taking a sip of his energy drink as he went to open the door. "Well hello! We were just talking about you."

It was her, because of course it was, she wasn't the type to make even the vaguest of promises then not fulfill them, and she was in his private room, smiling and bubbly as she greeted him and Lando, and—

Lando. Fuck's sake it would take an act of god to get him to leave the room now.

"All good I hope," YN said with a little laugh.

"Only the best," Lando promised. "Osc can't shut up about you."

"Shut up," Oscar groaned, drowned out by YN's giggle.

"I think it's so cute that you call him Osc. My assistant – ybffn? She calls him Pastry Boy."

Lando's eyes went wide, and Oscar groaned again when his friend burst into high-pitched laughter. "No but it fits! He does love a good pastry!"

YN swiveled her eyes to him and he felt his stomach twist. "Do you?"

"Oh god, yeah. My trainer hates it because I can't say no to a good pastry." He rubbed the back of his neck, wondering why his palms felt sweaty.

"Yeah I'm with you there. We went incognito in Paris just so I could buy and eat every pastry I wanted." She sighed happily at the memory.

"You can still go incognito?" he asked, surprised.

"Sometimes. Luckily no one knew which hotel I was staying at so we were able to sneak out without being noticed. And Pete was with us. When he's in jeans and a hoodie nobody pays attention to him. Plus it was raining so I was able to keep my hood up."

"What's your favorite pastry?" Lando asked casually.

"That's like asking a mother which child is her favorite…" YN scrunched her face and sighed. "Pain au chcocolate."

"Perfect choice, that's the best," Oscar said with a nod.

"Isn't it? I love pastry and chocolate, it's—"

"The best of both worlds," he finished with her.

"Yes!" She grinned and the twist in his stomach loosened, unleashing a swarm of butterflies.

"Oh this is so beautiful," Lando murmured, yelping when Oscar elbowed him in the ribs.

"Did you get to the studio?" he asked her.

"Yes." She practically glowed, shrugging off her backpack. Motioning for her to sit, he stumbled when Lando pushed him towards the couch. "I got two tracks down and a couple rough demos—" She pulled out a tablet, shoving her backpack to her other side as Oscar sat next to her.

Lando huffed and took the chair. "Oh!" he blurted, his expression innocent. "Did you want me to leave? I don't wanna ruin a private listening party."

"No it's fine." She flashed him a smile then turned her attention to the tablet. "The first one is just a demo. I'm not that great on guitar and it was last minute, so…"

Oscar listened as she rambled on about how she'd been inspired for the one and the second was a last minute burst she'd cranked out with just herself and the guitar. "Anyways," she said with a small shrug, handing the tablet to Oscar. "Just hit play."

He did, and was met with a strumming guitar. Then her voice, and he marveled at her ability to sing so beautifully so early in the morning. He glanced at her, saw she'd pulled her knees up and was nodding her head to the beat. I was enchanted to meet you. Please don't be in love with someone else. Please don't have somebody waiting on you...

ynyln has posted to their story

[caption: got lost at the mclaren hub oops]

YN smiled as she posted the story and locked her phone, picking up her cup to finish her coffee. She'd been hanging out with them for nearly two hours. Well, with Oscar. Lando had been in and out, giggling and giving Oscar knowing looks. "I should really get going."

Lando nodded, smiling. "Glad you liked the transition. If you ever want…"

Laughing, she patted his shoulder. "As soon as I'm ready to do a remix album I'll call you."

"Perfect." He nudged Oscar and tipped his head.

Confused, because she could tell Lando was trying to silently tell his friend something, she got her backpack and picked up her paddock pass. "I can see—"

"I'll walk you out," Oscar blurted, already on his feet.

"Thanks." Waving goodbye to Lando, she headed out of the room, smiling her thanks when Oscar opened the door for her.

"He's a bit mental, but he's alright," he said as they walked along to the stairs.

"Lando? My grandma would say he's hyper." YN headed down the stairs, stopping at the bottom to loop her pass over her neck.

"She'd be right," he chuckled.

She felt him tugging on her backpack and glanced over her shoulder to see him zipping the front compartments.

"Don't want you losing anything," he said. His cheeks tinged pink and she almost giggled.

"Thanks. Did you get a hike in this morning?" she asked once they were walking across the hub towards the exit.

"No, I did work in the gym. Did – Oh right you were at the studio."

"I'm gonna try to go tomorrow," she said. She wondered if Charles would want to join her.

"Do…" He cleared his throat, stopping just before they got to the doors.

"Hm?" She turned to face him.

"Would you, um…" His cheeks darkened and he ran a hand through his hair. "Christ, I'm bad at this."

Realizing what he was trying to say, she gave him a soft smile. "Do you want to come with me on the hike in the morning?"

He nearly sagged with relief. "I-if you want company, yeah."

"I'd love to." Taking out her phone, she unlocked it and handed it to him so he could give her his number. "I'll text you so you'll have me – What time did you want to head out?"

"Whenever you'd like. I don't have anything until afternoon." He handed her phone back with a smile.

Making sure to save him, she sent him a quick text - 👋🏻 – and leaned to kiss his cheek. "Text me later and we can make plans."

"Yeah, alright," he agreed.

"I'll see you in the morning, Oscar. Thanks for everything," she said, rolling her eyes when Pete appeared at her side. Exchanging farewells with Oscar, she held onto her phone as she left, glancing back to see Oscar watching her through the window. Used to Pete's surly silence, she didn't talk on the way back to the Ferrari hospitality center, unconsciously chewing on her lip as she thought over the day.

Taglist:

@lichterfee | @formulaal | @a-beaverhausen | @dullypully |

[devilfic]

❝late-bloomer❞

plot: you've never been kissed before. on a completely unrelated note, what if your best friend offered to be your first? pairing: tasm!peter parker x gn!reader. cw: post-tasm 2, gwen stacy mention, angst, self-deprecating thoughts about being undesirable and insecurity in love, best friends to wouldn't you like to know, eventual fluff, attempts at andrew garfield accurate rambling, he definitely talks you through it I mean who said that. words: 4.3k.

a/n: entirely self-indulgent because I wrote this after crying over being a late-bloomer for an hour ahahaha

Peter is reading something for research when you suck in a breath and finally ask, "What was your first kiss like?"

You hear his voice die in his throat. The small whispering of test results and calculations fall short, but you don't dare to look back. You're hunched forward so he won't see the way your eyes burn and brim with tears unshed because if he did, he'd ask about it and then you'd really start crying. Instead, you busy yourself with your phone, idly scrolling as if your question was pure curiosity alone.

You watch his ankles uncross, hear him sit up and then lean against the headboard again, fumbling for your train of thought, "Uh... sticky, 'cause I was six," Peter laughs, "You should know. You're the one who kissed me."

No matter how many times he tells you this, you can't remember the day you'd been so bold as to plant one right on Peter Parker's lips. You felt like you'd remember that, but you'd been such an impulsive child back them. Bolder. Thicker-skinned.

But Peter remembers, and so does Aunt May who swears up and down that she'd caught it on camera ("If only I could find that damned photo album"). You're the only one who doesn't. It's like it never happened, "No, God... no. I mean like your first real kiss."

"Like with tongue?" You hear the humor in his voice and even your sullen mood doesn't stop you from smacking his knee. "I dunno what you're talking about. That kiss was real to me."

"I'm serious, Pete."

He hums. You're so, so tempted to look back and see what he's thinking, but it would give you away too easily. "It was... it was a kiss. I mean, Gwen- you know. You know. I was crazy about her. I didn't think I just... kissed her."

"How did it feel? Do you know?"

"I felt like I needed to do it. I felt like if I didn't, I'd throw up. Not actually, just... like I'd explode with all the feelings I had for her."

Your finger hovers over a tweet. In your wondering about that feeling of almost nearly exploding, you try to picture that rooftop kiss that Peter had relayed to you between classes, with hushed whispers and childish laughter. It was windy, and I was breathless, he'd said, and I wanted to lay myself bare. And I just... pulled her in. Shot a web and swept her up and kissed her. I think I've lost my mind. You remembered pressing your back against the school lockers to cool yourself as you imagined the scene, the steps it took for you to settle the uneasy churn in the pit of your chest. The euphoria and panic upon realizing that your Peter was growing up.

You felt overwhelmed just imagining it. You barely hear Peter ask why you want to know. "No reason. Was just curious."

You think that Peter accepts that as good enough reason because the room is silent again. You keep scrolling, keep taking subtle deep breaths to keep the tears at bay. You see a picture of a couple on your timeline and scroll faster.

A few minutes of peace pass before Peter broaches the subject again, "What about you?"

"Hm?"

"I don't think you've ever told me about your first kiss."

Your shoulders tense. No good effort hides the strain in your voice, "I haven't?"

A beat passes. You glance over your shoulder and see Peter staring right at you, his lips upturned in a small, resting smile, but his eyes are inquiring. He's trying to read you. Perhaps he's just noticed the heavy cloud hanging overhead. "Nope." He pops the "P". He's waiting.

You could lie. You could say it was Flash Thompson who stole it, mention that field trip to the zoo in middle school when he'd sneaked next to you at the peacock exhibit and pestered you about you and Peter. Peter wouldn't question Flash about it. Even if they'd made amends, any conversation about him would send him over the edge with memories of his childhood bully and how much he pitied you for having your first kiss with him. And all of you were far too old now; Flash Thompson had gone to another state to play football the minute he got his diploma. It'd be so inconsequential, such an easy lie.

But the longer it takes you to deliberate on it, the worse it makes you look. You should've offered up an answer easily, jovially, unbothered. It should be inconsequential. Anything more and Peter would call your bluff because he knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes.

At some point, you feel the brush of a lone finger at the base of your spine and it startles you. Peter's slipped his finger under your shirt, stroking along the middle of your back, "I won't laugh. If that's what you're thinking." He says softly.

Of course Peter wouldn't laugh at you. As much as your relationship was teasing, he knew where you were tender.

But it wasn't laughing you worried about.

"I know." You say, in lieu of a real answer. You fear you've given yourself away.

Now there are two fingers stroking your skin, "You don't... you don't have to tell me, if you don't want to," but you can hear the discomfort in his voice when he says it, like the thought that it's something you don't want to tell him concerns him, "it's up to you."

Just lie. Your breath shudders and immediately you regret it. There's no way he hadn't heard that.

Before you can recover, you're feeling the heat of his entire hand on your back now as it slips further up, as he sits up in bed beside you and rests his chin on your shoulder. The closeness of his breath makes you feel claustrophobic all of a sudden, "Hey, hey. I'm sorry. Did I push? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

You struggle to shake your head, but now your eyes are burning again and you don't think you can stop the tears this time, "You didn't." You insist.

"You're crying, bub," he laughs (not mockingly, never mockingly, never when you cry) and reaches a thumb up to brush away the first warm tear, "what's wrong?"

There's a million things you could say. I've never been kissed before, I don't know what it feels like to be longed for like that, I want to be longed for like that, why haven't I been longed for like that? But it all feels so heavy. Peter picks his chin up to kiss your shoulder and that really does it, "It never happened."

Peter's lips still against your skin. Their warmth slowly peels away, though you feel his breath ghost over the curve of your bone, "What hasn't?"

"A kiss. A first kiss, Peter. I've never had one."

"That's..." Peter sounds almost shocked, disbelieving. He never picks up that thought.

You turn your head away and toss your phone onto the bed, no longer interested in pretending you could distract yourself with anything else. You try to shrug your shoulder out from underneath Peter's mouth but he's quick, the hand at your back locking around you and you can't escape him even though you want to, even though you need to get away from his sweet smile and lovely heartbeat that thuds a little faster against your side.

It was already so much to tell him you hadn't had your first kiss yet, to admit to your best friend who—despite popular Midtown High opinion—has always been so irresistible to lovers, that you haven't gone as far as something so... simple. Something teenagers running your old stomping grounds have probably experienced ten times over by now. You don't think you can handle his pity too, "Peter, please."

"There's nothing wrong with that. Nothing at all. Everyone moves at their own pace."

You hiss through your teeth. You don't mean to, but the spite overwhelms you like red hot heat for a minute, "It's easy to say that when you've done it already."

You catch Peter's eye and immediately regret it. His untamed brows are drawn together, expression more analyzing than pitying. Even though you're brimming with feelings, he seems as if he's trying to wade through them, search for the gnarled root at the center of it all.

Then, and he says this so carefully that the meaning takes a moment to catch up with you, "There's nothing wrong with you."

It's the sincerity that does it. You shove his hand off of you, jerk away from him in a scramble to stand, but Peter is fast and lithe and he's always been two steps ahead of you even before the bite. He's up on his feet before even you are, coming to stand in your way when you go to grab for your bag, "Peter, move."

"Look, can we... can we talk about this?"

"I really don't want to. Move."

"Why are you shutting me out?"

"Because I want to go home. Move."

"Is it because of what I said?"

"Yes!" You blurt, growing frustrated the longer he blocks your path, "yes. Because I'm sick of being told there's nothing wrong with me when clearly..." Your voice tapers off, afraid to give him the reason he needs to worry about you, "Please. I'm just tired. It'll go away on its own, it always does, I just can't be here right now."

The standoff between you two lingers, feels like you might have to fight him just to escape. It takes everything in you just to keep eye contact with him and not burst into tears.

Peter clearly doesn't want to let you go. You can see that genius brain of his running every possible scenario in his mind in which he convinces you to stay, cry it out, leave happier than you came. None of them come soon enough. You brush past him when he realizes he's got nothing, and even the hand that grabs for you is halfhearted, shrugged off with little force.

"I'll see you later, Pete."

You let his front door shut on its own.

It hasn't been great.

What typically took a few hours to shake off had settled over you like a dark cloud ever since you'd stormed out of Peter's place. Even though you texted him like everything was fine (and dodged any phone calls so he wouldn't hear the truth with those freakishly good best friend senses of his), you had yet to see him again. Had yet to let yourself be seen.

You told yourself that it was just you missing Peter, and you believed that to be true, but you also believed that when he looked you in the eye and told you "there's nothing wrong with you", you hadn't been prepared for the nakedness of it all. He'd dug deep, right to the source. That kind of thing was hard to move past.

So you avoided him. If he came by your place, you pretended you weren't home. If he showed up at your work to take you to coffee, you lied and told him you had plans with a coworker. It had been several days now and you felt more and more cowardly by the minute.

It was Peter. Of all people, it was Peter. Your best friend. You could tell him anything (most things, some kept a little closer to the heart). You should be able to.

And it was silly. Being embarrassed about not kissing anyone. Plenty of people were in the same boat as you and they didn't ice their best friend out about it.

Ugh, now you were just making yourself feel worse.

You'd had enough. You'd end this pity party today. As you make your way through your apartment door, you promise yourself that after you've showered, after you've made yourself a filling dinner, after you've settled into bed, you'd call Peter and ask him to meet for pizza this weekend. You'd talk like civil adults who understand that life isn't a race. You'd share your couch, laugh about the whole thing, and maybe, just maybe, the hollowness in your chest that longed for someone's desire to fill it would finally-

He's sitting in your kitchen.

Legs dangling off the island, mask rolled up to his nose, and a spoon clattering out of his mouth and into a bowl of ice cream. Your front door shuts gently behind you.

You stare at each other for a few seconds. Then you glance through your bedroom door, cracked open just enough for you to see the breeze rustling your curtains. You turn back to Peter, who's cleaning off his bottom lip of raspberry sorbet. "Did you climb through the window? You have a key."

Peter sets the bowl down beside him, shrugs, "You weren't returning my calls."

Your shoulders sag and you drop your things to the floor, "Peter-"

"No, no," you watch him slide off the countertop and bounce over to you, and the nearness you aren't prepared for makes you back away an inch or two, "No Peter. I'm not Peter. I'm Spider-Man. See?" He gestures to the suit.

You reach your hand up and pinch his exposed cheek, then narrowly avoid his teeth before he tries to nip you, "I'm not in the mood. I said I'd call you later, I'm just... busy."

"Busy avoiding your best friend."

You can feel him trail after you as you walk away, beginning to undress. He catches your coat when you throw it toward the couch and hangs it up all neat on a hook. He kicks your shoes to a wall and tugs your belt from your fingertips once you've undone it. Then, unexpectedly, he hooks said belt around your waist and yanks you back to face him.

The momentum throws you fully into his chest but he's sturdy, unmoving as you grip his shoulders and give him the most hostile look you can muster. You attempt to wiggle out of the trap but he pulls the belt tighter, forcing you closer, and then you start to panic as the space between you both disappears, "I haven't been avoiding you, I just needed space." You quickly explain.

"And I get that," he admits, "but you scared me. I've never seen you like that before. Not with me. Not ever."

Of course he hadn't. It was why you kept all of this a secret in the first place. Because you knew he'd worry, and you knew that there would be nothing he could do to fix it. Not like he usually could.

"It was a... brief lapse in self-esteem. That's all. You're making it into a bigger deal than it should be."

"It's not a big deal?"

"No! That's what I keep trying to tell you."

"So it doesn't matter at all."

"Correct."

"Right."

"It's just an arbitrary milestone that means nothing." You grip the leather of your belt but you're nothing against his superhuman strength. Pleading with your eyes, you do your best not to slip back into that vulnerable place all over again. Peter made you feel safe to do that. Way too safe to do that. "I promise. I'm not avoiding you."

You get sick of staring into the whites of his mask and so you grab the edge of it and pull it up to his hairline, little tufts of curls poking out as his face is fully revealed to you. You stare into those sharp, probing eyes of his, forcing yourself to stand the test of Peter Parker's perception.

Suddenly, you're released.

You stumble back a bit, the belt clanking against the floor, as Peter throws his arms up in defeat, "Alright, alright. I get it. I should've let you breathe the other night. I was just worried, is all."

You smile, "And I appreciate that."

Peter quickly glances at you and then away, making an exaggerated show of kicking imaginary dust off the floor. "First kisses really mean nothing then, huh?"

"Zilch. Nada."

"So... doesn't matter when it is, who it is..."

You watch him carefully, "If this is about when we were six-"

"No, no, I know that didn't count. You don't even remember it," his face contorts in a wince, "I was just thinking. Something."

Your eyes narrow, "Uh-huh."

"Well, I mean, is that why? Because you don't remember it? Or... is it because it was me?"

"The kiss?" Peter blows a raspberry, looking more bashful by the second, and nods without looking at you. "It's... it's because we were six. And we didn't know what we were doing. I was just mimicking what we saw. We didn't know anything."

"And now we do."

"Yeah. What are you getting at, Pete?"

He sits on the back of your couch and kicks his feet out in front of him. "If all that matters is that we both know what we're doing, and a first kiss is just a meaningless milestone to you, then I thought that maybe we could give it another go. You know. So when a real kiss comes along that actually means something, you'll have an idea of how it's supposed to go."

You're six years old again.

You and Peter Parker are sitting in the dirt, mouths covered in sticky ice cream that the summer sun melted right up. You're both talking about Flash Thompson's trip to Florida and the hilarious sunburn he came back with when you spot an elderly couple across the park, pressing their mouths together over and over.

You're looking over at Peter and asking about it, sure it couldn't possibly feel good, and he's telling you that when Uncle Ben kisses May good morning in the kitchen he always looks away because it's gross.

And you're thinking... you start thinking something.

You're thinking it would be funny—that Peter would hate you for it, but you're just so curious—and you're pressing your lips to his so quickly that he doesn't get a chance to pull back before you're giggling in the grass. And May's voice flutters in the background, a shrill and delighted, "I caught that!" that makes you both turn tail and run toward the swings.

Peter's still staring at you, waiting.

Part of you feels like it's pity. Like he doesn't want you to feel bad about yourself. Like he doesn't know how else to fix it, because he has to fix it. He has to fix everything. He has to be your hero.

But the other part? A restless and selfish part wants to take it; it's curious.

You take a step forward, the two of you watching each other, waiting to see if the other might back out at the last second. He stays exactly where he is, legs parting slowly, and the silent invitation makes you feel hot under the collar.

When you're standing between them, you feel his knees bump your legs on either side, his hands planted firmly into the couch cushions. You notice the grip he has on them, "Are you sure?" You pause.

Peter tilts his head in that strange, spider-like way. As if he cannot fathom why would you ask such a thing, "Of course. I'm the one who offered."

Your hands shake as they consider where to put themselves, and you get about halfway to his shoulders before he takes them and places them on either side of his face, mumbling something about how it might help you feel more in control, quell your nerves a bit.

Peter's cheeks feel so warm in your hands, and you can feel each swallow he makes the longer you take in his expression. "Should... I move in first? Or..."

He laughs, short and high-pitched, "I guess I can go first."

You know you're supposed to close your eyes, but as he comes in close, you can't help but keep them lidded, taking in every twitch of his mouth as he inclines his neck, shuts his eyes, and kisses you.

Your brain reacts a half-second after his lips touch yours. You've probably stopped breathing, and you have to force your lips to unstiffen so that you could actually feel him. His lips are a little wet—he'd been rolling his bottom lip between his teeth since he'd sat down—and they taste faintly of raspberry. They're not cold though, and the feeling isn't unpleasant.

You don't know how to react to it, don't know if you should move or not, and so instead you curl your fingers into the silk of his nape and wait for the pounding in your chest to stop.

You feel him mouth at your bottom lip just once, and then pull back. "How'd that feel?"

You recall the sensations that went through your brain (all that it can recall anyway, when Peter's looking at you like that), "Slimy...?"

Peter's face falls, and then he bursts into laughter, shakes with the force of it, and drops his head on your shoulder. "There's got to be a better word than that."

"I don't know! I was just thinking about the feeling."

"I don't want to know what it felt like, I want to know how it made you feel. Did you like it? Hate it?"

"I don't know. I'm- I'm nervous."

"Hey, that's okay," his hand rubs your hip, warming the skin there, and you find yourself leaning into it for comfort, "everyone is their first time."

Peter is so, so gentle. Your heart feels like it might give out, but a little less now that it's over and he's not looking at you in disgust. You don't know what you expected, but... this was better. By far. That part of you that felt selfish takes over again, "Can we try again?"

His eyes widen a bit, but he's immediately nodding, "Okay. Yeah. Okay. We can try as- as many times as you want."

You nearly choke on your spit. "Can we?" Your voice comes out a meek whisper.

Peter nods. He brings his legs in so that he's sitting properly now. "Of course. You wanna move me? I can sit somewhere else. Or you can sit if you want."

"No, I like you here," you say, feeling your stomach tighten when his thighs lock against your legs, "um. Is there anything I can work on? How did I feel?"

"Warm. Soft. Just try to loosen up, alright?"

You force yourself to release the tension in your body and move in first this time. Images of rom-com kisses flood your brain, how you memorized their rhythms and the placement of their mouths. You try your best to mimic it, make it feel as good as it seemed to look, when you feel one of Peter's hands slip behind your head and angle you away just a hair, "You're tensing up," he warns, making you pause, "it doesn't have to be perfect. It's just you and me. Breathe for me, okay? Turn your brain off."

You feel your stomach flip a bit, and nod along mindlessly. You try again.

This time, it feels a little different. Not wet or stiff, even if it is still awkward. It almost overwhelms you when, as you're mouthing at Peter's lip, he returns the favor, but you keep your brain empty. You can't focus on the details because it won't feel right. You can't focus on the way it looks because it won't feel right.

So you focus on Peter. You focus on the hand on your hip drawing you closer and the hand on your neck rubbing circles into the knot there. You focus on the feeling of his suit under your pinkies. You focus on the small hum he makes when, with quite a bit of building up to it, you pass your tongue over his.

Almost as soon as you do it, you pull back. Peter is flushed and it makes the beauty marks on his skin stand out more. His eyelashes flutter, a half-smile on his lips that are kissed red. By you.

You open your mouth to ask but he beats you to it, "I think you've got it now... yeah. Definitely." You're so relieved you sigh, sagging away from him, but he catches your hands before they can can leave his face completely and holds them in his lap. You don't dare move them. "How about you? Did you like it?"

You nod, speechless.

Peter laughs and squeezes your hands in his, "Okay, good. Good. I love you, you know? I know it doesn't... replace what you're looking for, but you're wonderful. You're insane and funny and stunning and there's nothing wrong... you know? You're perfect. Take it from your loser best friend who had to get bit by a radioactive spider to get to first base."

You snort, "I mean, if that's all it takes..."

Peter shakes his head and stands, but his hand remains on your neck as you follow his eyes to his full height, "So, we good? No more ignoring me?" You bite your lip, nodding your head. Peter smiles. "Good, cause I'm starving and I need you to split a pizza with me."

"You just polished off a tub of ice cream and you're still hungry?"

"I'm a growing spider, honey. And I missed you." Without warning, the hand on your hip hooks around your back and hoists you into his body, throwing you off balance once more, "I'll swing us there and cover cheese sticks too. Sound good?"

You know you don't have much room to argue when he's being so generous. And not when he's beaming at you, so genuinely relieved to have you back that it would knock you off your feet if he wasn't holding you up.

He was right; this wouldn't replace what you were looking for, but it gets pretty damn close. Closer than you expected, actually. But it's just the adrenaline. This didn't change anything.

Did it? You stare up at Peter.

"We can try as many times as you want."

You might have a very different problem than you started with.

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes

[hoshifighting]

heyy i hope you’re having a great day/night ✨

i was wondering if u could do an ot13 reaction to the reader having a tattoo on their booty cheek that represents them

ex: 🍒 for scoups and 🍊 for seungkwan

thank you and take care 🫶🏾

Seventeen's reaction, when you get a tattoo on your booty cheek, representing them.

Seungcheol

 when seungcheol sees the small cherry tattoo on your ass, he smirks, eyes darkening. "a cherry, huh? just for me?" he murmurs, tracing the ink with his fingertips. the possessiveness in his gaze is unmistakable. he grabs your hips, pulling you close, and whispers in your ear, "now, i have to make sure everyone knows who this belongs to." his touch turns rougher, spanking your ass lightly, "you're gonna remember this every time you see that tattoo."

Seungkwan

 upon seeing the cherry tattoo on your ass, seungkwan blinks in surprise, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "oh, really? you went and inked my favorite fruit right there?" he chuckles, his eyes gleaming with delight. "and only for my eyes, huh? how flattering." his touch is mischievous and teasing, fingers running lightly over the tattoo, "can't wait to show you just how happy this little tangerine makes me."

Jeonghan 

when jeonghan sees the delicate angel wings on your ass, a symbol of him, he chuckles softly, tracing the lines with his fingers. "you really did this for me?" he asks, his voice amused. "guess i'll have to reward my angel properly," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your skin. he makes sure you feel every moment of his appreciation for the tattoo.

Joshua

 joshua's eyes widen slightly at the sight of the small cross (or deer, idk) tattoo on your ass. "oh my god! y/n what is it?" he asks, his gentle demeanor doesn't stop him from gripping your hips tightly, pulling you against him. "interesting choice of placement," he purrs, his fingers tracing a slow path around the inked design. "and just for me, huh? how flattering." he whispers, his breath hot against your skin.

Jun

 jun's reaction is immediate and intense when he sees the cat tattoo. "a cat? for me?" he says, he chuckles, maybe not believing. he wastes no time, his hands rough as they caress your skin. "you're gonna regret teasing me like this," he growls, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses and bites over the tattoo.

Hoshi

 gets, really turned on, and you know why. hoshi's eyes light up with mischief when he spots the small tiger tattoo. "a tiger for your tiger, huh?" he teases, he grips your ass, squeezing it firmly, but also with care with the tattoo. "i'm gonna make you roar tonight," he promises, chuckling. (he would also accidentally end up talking about it in a circle of friends when he was drunk. – he could even cry, depending on the alcohol level in his blood.)

Wonwoo

 wonwoo for a moment can't believe you did that, he even thinks it's a fake tattoo, as he runs his fingers over the tattooed skin. "you're crazy..." "you really are something," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your skin. – now loves every position where he can see the tattoo on your ass.

Mingyu

 his reaction is a mix of surprise and arousal when he notices the tattoo. "you got this tattoo just for me?" he chuckles, but the playful tone quickly shifts as his eyes darken. "you’re so naughty," he says. he leans in, biting the skin around the tattoo lightly, making you gasp. "i'll have to show you how much i appreciate it," he whispers, his hands sliding over your body, making sure you know exactly how much the tattoo turns him on.

Woozi

 woozi's eyes widen when he sees the musical note tattoo. "you didn't..." he asks mouth opened, with flushed cheeks. his hands are delicate, pulling you against him. "guess i'll have to play you like my favorite instrument," he whispers, kissing your neck.

Minghao

 "now, i know you're a bit impulsive, y/n," minghao whispers, his words half-teasing, half-admonishing. "but a tattoo, really? you do realize it stays on your skin forever, don't you? and just for me?" the slight scold is tempered by his shy giggling, a sign that any faux exasperation is just for show. he touches the tattoo, his touch soft and tender. "it does look beautiful though, and knowing it's a mark just for me...well, it's cute."

Seokmin

 as seokmin takes in the tattoo, his eyes grow wide with surprise and excitement. he gasps dramatically, his mouth forming an exaggerated "o" shape. "oh my goodness! it's so cute!" he exclaims. he playfully reaches out to touch the tattoo, giggling uncontrollably, his touch delicate and playful. "i can't believe you actually got this cute cherry! it's the most adorable thing ever!" he jumps up and down, unable to contain his joy and enthusiasm.

Vernon

 he reaches out, tentatively touching the ink, gently pressing his fingers against your skin to see if it's real. you wince slightly, the sensation of his touch registering on your skin. his eyes widen in surprise and disbelief as he realizes the tattoo is indeed real, and that you have marked yourself with it for him. "oh my gosh…you actually did it," he whispers in disbelief.

Chan

 as you and chan enter the bathroom, because 'you needed to show him something'. you lower your pants, revealing the tattoo on your ass. chan's eyes widen, and he inhales sharply, before he can respond, he bites his knuckles, a quiet gesture of shock. he quickly turns away, allowing himself a moment to process the sight before him. 

[ch3rriiii-bunn]

Time of the month

I mean this in no slander way, but the clones may know about sex and etc, but they definitely are dumb ass hell to a period lmfao. They are clones after not really like the other demons too lmfao

Warnings: fem!reader, fluff & smut, periods, oral (reader receiving), hunger impulses, humor

Aizetsu

Aizetsu could tell someone wasn't right with you for the past few days. He explained that a demon is able to sense the hormone changes in a human, but he couldn't really make out what it is. When Aizetsu smelled blood from you, he almost panicked. "Y/n, where are you hurt?" He asked, holding your face looking around your neck and chest.

You giggled. "I'm not hurt. Why are you assuming that?" You asked "I smell blood from you" Aizetsu says almost crying and looking around your body "don't hide your pain from me it makes me sad when you do" Aizetsu kept checking until he squats down to your lower half and smelled where the blood was coming from.

You took a step back a bit nervously. "Aizetsu... I'm just on my period. Do you not know what that means?" You asked, and he just shook his head, no in response. From that day, you had to explain to Aizetsu what a period is and how it's very common for women to have one and anyone with a uterus, and he was able to understand.

You couldn't stop Aizetsu hunger when your period came. "Y/n, I'm so hungry. Please let me eat, I need to. I can't resist it anymore. " Aizetsu begs you every time, drool falling from his chin from his hunger. Aizetsu goes down on you, having his tongue lap up at the blood flowing out of you having his fill. Most of the time, Aizetsu does it to satisfy his hunger but will get carried away and end up over stimulating you.

"A-Aizetsu you said you were done" you mewl and your back arches when you feel him suck on your clit. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" he moans on your pussy "forgive me" he said between licks not stopping until he's tasting your cum mixed with your blood.

Aizetsu takes notice that when you're on your period, you get more emotional and clingy to him. "Y/n, I have to go see "that man." I promise I'll come back," he said, but you just held his hand tighter. "Don't leave Aizetsu. I'll miss you, " you said and began crying, but that only made Aizetsu cry and even harder at that. "Your poor thing. You can't live with out my for more than a second, can you? " he said.

"What the fuck!? I just don't want my boyfriend leaving me" you sob "so you can live without me!?" Aizetsu asked only making him sob harder having you both because an emotional mess.

Sekido

The first time Sekido realized what a period was after you explained it to him, he literally called it stupid. He couldn't understand how the uterus could cause a person so much pain all because they aren't pregnant each month. "If it's because you're not pregnant, why don't I just get you pregnant, you fool?" He said, being very serious, and you tried not to laugh since it wouldn't really change anything.

Sekido would get mad when your period could affect your whole body. "What do you mean I can't lay my head on your chest!? You said it was just your stomach hurting you," Sekido said, sounding confused but somehow angry as well.

"Sekido, when I get my period, a lot of things happen to my body, including my boobs... they are really tender and sore right now, " you explained, but that only angered Sekido even more. "Please don't be mad," you say with tears instantly coming out of your eyes. "Why are you crying!?" He raised his voice. "Don't yell at me either!" You sob in your hands, having Sekido stand there dumb founded and feeling somewhat bad for making you cry.

Sekido had to take many months to understand you on your period and when not to say certain things. Even so, he couldn't hide his hunger when you're around on your period. "Stop squirming. The more you do, the less blood that comes out and I'm fucking hungry" he said, holding your legs open but reminds himself you are in pain and sure to have his hand on your stomach, rubbing it and giving your clit attention with his tounge to give you pleasure.

Sekido doesn't get carried away with getting his fill but there will be those days where he'll want to fuck you on your period and that's the softest sex you'll ever get from him.

Karaku

"A period? Do I get one? My dick does have a hole, so maybe i can have one..." He'll ask seriously after you explained to him why you bleed every month from your vagina. Karaku couldn't believe this was something you could do all because you weren't pregnant, and surprisingly, he made sure to take a mental note of how he should help you when this time comes around.

Karaku did realize how needy you'd get for him on your period. He'd use this opportunity to get his fill, lapping up the blood from your pussy but take his sweet time but making sure to pleasure you in the process, moaning from how good you tasted both for his hunger and your arousal.

"You're still in pain, aren't you?" Karaku rubs your stomach and gives it soft kisses. "Don't worry. I'll make the pain go away," he smirks. Karaku is able to go up to many rounds with you, that's just the stamina of a demon but he has to realize on a normal day you can only do so many but on months like this? Oh he loves how you can take his cock for more then an hour.

Karaku notices how you're much more needy for words of affirmation during this month. "y/n, you're beautiful. I love you. " he'll hold your face, squish your cheeks together, and even pet your head. "Are you still in pain?" he'll say, rubbing your back and sometimes giving you butt rubs as you lay on his chest. "It'll end soon. You'll be fine"

Urogi

"Wow! Are these pads? Look how easily they break!" He said, ripping up at least 3 of your pads with his sharp talons. You screamed at him so loud that day, saying you need them to the point where Urogi doesn't dare mess with them again.

Urogi makes fun of you for being in your period. He'll often compare you to Sekido with how angry you get. "Am I bothering you? Why aren't you talking to me? Hello, hello hello" Urogi said, knowing he's being annoying and even using his talon to poke you in a painful way to annoying you "fuck off! Stop that you annoying bird!" You yell "ok ms.sekido, " Urogi said.

You'd never have a problem with Urogi going down on you when it's that month for you since it was normal for a demon to have hunger impulses when they smell blood from a human but you never wanted to give Urogi the satisfaction of how good his tounge felt.

You can tell when Urogi has had his fill but will want to keep playing with you. You'll turn your head with a pout, not looking at his big yellow eyes staring at you. "What? Don't wanna look at me? Is it because I'm a mess with your blood" he mocks you and presses his tounge flat on your clit.

"So much more sensitive then usual" Urogi grabs your thighs spreading them open keeps licking at your clit and feel your legs trembling in his grip. "Oh? Does it feel good? Your legs are shaking, " he said "C'mon tell me how good it feels, " he stops, looking up at you, waiting for an answer

"Fuck... it feels good, keep going" you grab his hair pushing his head closer to your thobbing clit. "Don't worry, I'll have you cumming on my tounge in no time~"

[chrisrin]

Hey Chris? So my friends and I were geeking out over the Hotguy Zine (personally almost made me cry, poor Impulse) and someone noticed that there were faint images on Smoke Screen's computer screens.

So someone else shifted the image to black and white as well as shifted the contrast so we could see the images and...

Gotta say I was very delighted to see this! < is an avid OP fan

But now I'm wondering why is he reading One Piece and is there any sort of meaning behind the wiki pages he has open (I think I see the wiki pages for Brooke and I think Thriller Bark and Pandaman?) not to mention that the manga panel that is front and center is the "Dreams will never die" scene from the Jaya arc?

Or was it just your brainworms being like "yeah let's put random stuff from my tabs in there to fill in space, it's fiiiine!" sorta thing lol

CONGRATULATIONS!!! YOU ARE THE FIRST ONE TO NOTICE THE ONE PIECE (OR AT LEAST THE FIRST ONE TO NOTICE AND TELL ME ABOUT IT)

if you also look, there is a few one piece references scattered around the comic itself (and impulse's room is. filled with one piece stuff LOOOL)

as funny as it is the idea that these all had intended meanings, i DID just ask the contributor server for random wiki pages to put up there. i finished these pages after taking a 36 day break because i was binging every single chapter of one piece so it infected the chapter as i continued working on it because it's all i was thinking about.

this is the note i left for what i think was the 2nd or 3rd check-in.

so <3 yeah <3 thank you for noticing it, i was wondering if/when someone would eventually point it out! me and all the other one piece fans in the hgcz contributor discord are deeply delighted.

[hai7ani]

dark red / haitani rindou

prequel

There's an itching silence in the air begging to be broken. Wants you to speak. Wants him to speak. Wants you both to talk.

You only stare at each other.

This winter was going to be a rough one, you immediately thought 一 after waking up in the hospital with no memories of how you got there, why you ended up in that state, and why you don't remember anything.

Your mother was there when you woke up 一 held your hand when you were crying in your sleep about God-knows-what, mumbling something that sounded so incoherent to her, but she swore has never seen you cry like this in front of her since you were a child.

She had seemed a little different to you. A little older, chubbier, with more wrinkles around her eyes and the grey in her hair much more prominent than yesterday.

Yesterday?

"What day is it today?" You remember asking her as soon as you'd gained consciousness and felt her wipe your tears away with a soft towel. You heard the weather forecast talking about possible snowfall later that evening.

You see the smile on your mother's face drop.

It was still summer yesterday.

She looks sad. In agony, even.

There is no way.

"It's the 2nd of December, my love." She says very, very softly. "Christmas is coming soon."

And she cries.

It was really cold out today. It wasn't snowing when you left the house. You'd expected and looked forward to be home dry and cozy still after running errands for Ma. You wanted to continue watching your movie before she'd knocked on your door and made you put on your jacket to buy something for her at the store.

And then it decides to snow all around just when a bomb gets dropped on you while you least expect it.

You're angry.

You're filled with fury. You were raging when you'd dropped everything on your mind and dragged the poor guy home with you out of impulse. He said he loved you before. That makes you both each other's exes 一 you've dated him, he's dated you.

You loved each other, and you don't remember a single thing about it at all.

Like what the hell do you mean you still love me? We've broken up. There's no way, Rindou 一 or whatever his name is.

You don't trust this man one bit.

Which is why you'd dragged him along with you, plastic bag full of groceries now in his hands after he'd snatched it right out of yours. It was swinging around as you stomped, making this huge noise around the area and he wanted to laugh so bad. "Honey, please." You remember hearing him plead behind you, trying to coax you into calming down and listening to him, but he still follows behind you nonetheless 一 letting you pull him along while he watches out for cars and bikes and also apologising on your behalf to other pedestrians when you step into their space as a means to hurry home.

(He has never been one to apologise, only nodding or bowing his head a little as a gesture, but that has changed ever since he met you.)

"Don't call me that. I don't trust you at all. Who knows if you might be lying to me, you kidnapper. I'm going to report you to the police. You're going to jail." You spat.

He sighed, and then he realised the path you were both taking.

Back to your house.

You just said you didn't trust him, so why are you dragging him back to your house?

You'd thought of it too seconds into walking and you'd come to a conclusion that you don't really know why either.

Maybe it's because you really didn't trust him just like you said, so you want to drag him to your mother and make him look her in the eyes and say that he loves you 一 he still loves you 一 just to prove he isn't lying. You want to hear it from your mom 一 she has been the only person you can trust ever since leaving the hospital with an empty heart and a blank mind.

A tug at your hand pulls you out of your head.

"Honey..." He's back at it again. "You're gonna hurt your hand like this." He notes at the way you are grabbing onto his hand and pulling harshly. And you know it too 一 you are going to strain your muscle if you don't let go soon, but you just can't help it.

Just another turn and you'll arrive.

"Hushhhh. I'm going to expose you for the liar you are, Rindou-kun. Just you wait." You frown.

Perhaps you are feeling this way because you are guilty. Guilty for not remembering him 一 guilty for not being able to remember the man who has loved you with all his heart despite that it has only been 2 years.

Yet a part of you suspects there is another reason as to why you are so angry at him. There is an unknowing itch in your heart that you just can't seem to figure out what it is.

You keep calling him a liar. You keep saying you can't trust him.

Was it true?

"Mom," you swing the front door open and kick off your boots. "Mama." You yell for her. Rindou huffs behind of you and place both bags down on the floor after entering your cozy home, and he immediately spots the flowery dark blue blanket on the kotatsu your mother is sitting on.

"Yes, baby? You're back." She had been knitting while watching TV, and she looks back at you expectantly, probably expecting something surprising after hearing your rushed voice calling out for her.

And then she sees him behind of you.

"Madam."

Haitani Rindou, the man who she believed to be her daughter's endgame. Live in flesh, and he's so out of breath just as you are.

"Rindou...!" She gasps, and then she rushes up to him to pull him into a hug, her mission to finish knitting her blanket long forgotten as she busies herself with him. "Goodness, I swear! You've gotten buffer now! How have you been? And why are you both together... again?!"

You think you want to faint.

The silence is menacing 一 mocking you for being so hot-headed, mocking him for being such a coward.

Your mother had taken the liberty to finish her knitting upstairs in her room to give you both space to talk in the living room, where you're snuggled in the same blanket she had been warming up in earlier.

He stares at it for such a long time before helping you to cover your shoulder, making sure you're warm after all the activity out there in the cold earlier.

It warms him enough to know that your mother still uses the blanket he got for her despite knowing he isn't part of your family anymore.

He sits behind you in silence, legs sprawled out on the floor with his coat draped over his lap.

You turn your head to him a little. From the corner of your eyes you see him rubbing his palms together before blowing onto them. It didn't feel right to leave him out there while you're in here all warm and cozy (and a bit ready to fall asleep).

"Come here," you open up the blanket to him and look at him expectantly. He shakes his head, "it's alright. You're cold."

"You're cold." You open it up further and turn your body towards him fully.

"I'm fine, honey."

"...Just come here, would you?" You raise your voice and frown, annoyed that he isn't listening to you.

He stuns for a moment when he thinks you sound a little too familiar, before cracking a smile and crawling into the blanket with you.

"Was that so hard? You're so stubborn as always..." He listens as you mumble and nag and tuck him in before finally succumbing to the warmth (and the closeness).

The two of you sit like that for a few minutes in another wave of silence while watching your cat toss and turn on the floor in front of you.

There isn't much to describe the situation you're in with him. It may seem boring to the ordinary people who have no idea what you're both going through 一 just two exes sitting next to each other for warmth, a little too close together for exes, but still considered fine nonetheless.

But you don't consider it fine. It is not boring at all. Your heart hurts at the same time it feels fulfilled. There is so much running through your head that you don't feel like thinking anymore. You feel like you have found what you have been searching for all this while. You think it is him.

You want him.

Yet he feels so foreign.

But you never want to feel so lonely again.

"Rin." You turn to him and you look him in the eyes.

You can tell there is a lot of hurt and pain hidden inside those violets when he closes the gap between the two of you and bumps your forehead together.

And then it occurs to you that you'd called him 'Rin'. It'd just escaped your mouth with no hesitation at all. It felt so normal to call him that.

"Yes, honey?" He whispers to you.

You suppress a smile itching to form on your lips. "Have you always been this cheesy? Honey?" You let it form anyway when he smirks.

"Nah... But you always liked it when I called you that." He pulls away from you and reaches a hand up to comb through your hair 一 flattened out a few flyaways and fixed your hairline a little.

And while he is busying himself with you, the turtleneck that he is wearing has been looking a little suspicious to you, you realise. You haven't been able to tear your eyes away from the collar. There is a burning urge in you to pull it down and see what happens when you do.

So you do just that.

You reach a hand up, dip your pointer into the collar while feeling up the soft black cashmere against your skin, and you pull.

He lets you, surprisingly. Perhaps there really is nothing to be suspicious about it 一 it is true that your radar has been a little off since losing your memories. Perhaps you just felt like being a tease. Maybe you have always done this to him in the past when you were both still dating.

You haven't asked him why yet.

"Why did we ever break up?" You ask him softly.

You feel his Adam's apple bob when his neck is exposed to the air 一 to your eyes.

There is a fine-lined box, rectangular and long, tattooed onto his neck. Parts of it are filled up with a really dark black ink and it moves as he swallows.

You try rubbing it off and he coughs when you press too hard on his throat.

You remember seeing this symbol the night after you'd woken up and was still in recovery in the hospital. Shown as the headline news as the reporter speaks about recent gang activity going berserk.

"The largest crime syndicate of Japan is found to be directly involved in recent gang activities happening around Tokyo. The organisation who has been engaging in criminal acts on the low is now on the loose publicly for causing two car accidents on the Tokyo Expressway which has killed two lives and the third victim hospitalised in a comatose state, a result from two members of the syndicate fleeing from the police on said expressway after a raid in their warehouse located in Azabu. Both instigators are still on the loose for murder and drug trafficking, though authorities have managed to identify one member of the gang during the raid who is suspected to be of high authority. Testimony from eye-witnesses have stated that the man has bright pink hair with diamond-shaped scars on both sides of his mouth, often spotted with a traditional katana."

"Oh."

You slump.

"Honey."

You kept saying he was a liar.

"Listen to me."

You kept saying you can't trust him.

So it is true.

"...Too late, Haitani."

You feel a little something press against your forehead. It's hard and it hurts you when it presses even harder.

The both of you have been so engrossed in each other, with you focusing on your memories and remembering being lied to, and him finding out if there is any way, any at all, to not make you leave him again-

"Told'cha to hide her before I kill her."

-Too engrossed to notice that a man has entered your home, and is currently holding a gun to your head as he stands behind Rindou with a hand tucked into his pocket.

Bright pink hair, diamond-shaped scars on both sides of his mouth.

"Bye-bye, pretty girl." He mocks in a sickening grin.

byeeeee

[tarjapearce]

what if miguel and reader have a fight? and they're trying to keep the fight away from gabi and ben but they end up seeing some of it and get upset 😟🫶🏻

Oh god. *Trauma unlocked* 🫠🫠

Bit of angst and little longer than I intended

Make up here ❤️ ~

Gabi noticed how silent you and Miguel were. Her eyes noticed how your hand flinched ever softly from his, only for him to retract his hand and grip the wheel tightly. It had been like this ever since the soccer practice was over. Had something happened?

------

She didn't know. But the quietness didn't set up good on her chest.

"Papa? Are you okay?"

Miguel's eyes watched her from the mirror and nodded.

"Of course, Solecito."

"What happened to your hand?"

"I got injured" He nodded softly and maneuvered the lever.

"Oh..." That's all she managed to utter. You on the other hand were looking absentminded through the window as you were fetching Benjamin from Peter's home.

-------

Ride back home was quiet, you took Benjamin and took him to his crib, he was a year now. Rebellious and black curls perched on his little head, bounced as he was put to sleep. Miguel was unpacking and you had decided to just get ready to sleep.

The fight had surely surprised you, not that you were scared of Miguel, it was just a behavior you rarely, if not ever, that you saw in him.

Gabriela took a bath, not really wanting to dinner, after all she had been treated with a Happy Meal at McDonald's.

You took a shower and changed, Miguel entering the room.

"So... I'm getting a silent treatment now?"

His voice calm, a stark contrast as how he was hours ago.

"No. Just..." You sighed, "Didn't actually expect you to hit that man."

"He was harassing you. Someone had to stop him."

"But hit him?" He sighed. "I know you, and that is really out of your character. Is... something wrong?"

"No." He spoke as he removed his t shirt

"I know work has been hard for you, and the kids, the house renovations, it can be stressful-"

"Ya estuvo, sí? Déjalo ." (Knock it off. Just leave it.) His tone firm, your lips remained shut as tears welled up in your eyes. You just nodded but your eyes drifted to Gabriela. Your heart wrenched at her expression. Fear, concern and sadness. She rushed to her room, leaving you both behind.

Miguel's head hung and he rubbed his face, realizing how the tension between you two was affecting everyone around.

"I'll get it." You mumbled and left the room. Following Gabriela, you knocked on her door and she buried herself further in the sheets.

"Mi amor?" She remained laid down, her back facing you, your steps guided you to her bed and sat next to her. She looked at you with wet eyes. It caused you to almost cry on your own.

"Is Papa okay?" she turned to face you, and you couldn't help but caress her hair.

"I... I don't know, mi amor."

"Are you angry at him?"

You shook your head and cradled her head softly.

"No mi amor. I'm not. I'm just concerned about him."

"I don't like when you fight." Another stab in your heart.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, mi amor. Sometimes stress is too much for adults and... we don't really mean things that we say, or the things we do out of impulse."

"Victor said that Papa had hit his uncle. Is that true?" Her eyes looked at you, searching for honesty.

"He... did. But his uncle did something really bad."

"What did he do?"

"He... touched me without my consent. And Papa got angry."

"Are you okay, Mama?"

"Yes, solecito. Your dad protected me from that man."

"Then why you flinched from Papa?"

You weren't expecting such comment

"Are you scared of dad?"

"No, cariño. I know he would never hurt me or any of us. But I also know that fighting isn't the way to solve problems. And it worries me cause... he never fights or id violent."

"Is something bothering him?"

"I don't know. He won't talk about it. But it's fine. Maybe he needs some space." Gabriela frowned but sighed.

"Im really sorry you had to see that, cariño. Whatever is happening, it's not your fault okay? This is between Papa and I. Understand?"

She nodded and hugged you.

"Don't fight, ok?"

You nodded as you did your best to hold it together.

"We'll try, mi amor."

Miguel heard from outside the door, uncomfortableness setting on his head. He just needed to find a way to make it up to you and his kids.