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delulujuls · 5 months

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silent carnival | ln4, op81

i will just leave this here without any particular comment. im glad that the las vegas is over and im even more glad that lando is okay. anyway, please enjoy it as always!

summary: lando crashed and went to the hospital, y/n and oscar coming to the rescue

warnings: nothing i think

pairing: lando norris x fem!mclarendriver x oscar piastri

The prevailing silence in the car was almost deafening, even the radio didn't dare to hum songs. The only audible sound was the quiet engine working at full throttle, ready to reach the destination as quickly as possible.

Y/N and Oscar sat next to each other in the back seat, gazing at the night landscapes illuminated by fiercely glowing neon lights. Neither of them was in the mood for conversation. The atmosphere was truly worse than gloomy.

Las Vegas was way much more than intense. The city pulsated with nightlife, decidedly more than any other place where Formula 1 had the pleasure to visit. That's why the silence that surrounded the McLaren drivers was quite shocking. However, this silence was entirely justified. It emerged when the orange car with number four on it submerged in sparks and concluded its disastrous ride in the barriers. Right then, all of Las Vegas froze; right then, the entire McLaren garage held its breath.

When the taxi parked at the hospital driveway, the pair quickly stepped outside and headed towards the entrance. After talking to the woman in the reception point and facing temporary difficulties finding the right room, they humbly sat on chairs in front of it. They had to wait until the tests were completed and the doctors left the room, allowing them to come in.

Seeing Y/N nervous, Oscar wordlessly embraced her, providing comfort. She closed her eyes and leaned on his shoulder, knowing well that she wouldn't calm down until she saw Lando with her own eyes.

After some time, when two doctors and a nurse left, the couple entered the room. Lando was genuinely surprised to see his friends, but he smiled seeing them.

The girl quickly approached the bed, ready to hug him, but she hesitated and lowered her outstretched arms, not wanting to cause him unnecessary pain. However, Lando pulled himself up a bit, reaching out to her and allowing the embrace. Oscar exchanged a reassuring look with his friend, smiling at him encouragingly. He sat on the bed and also hugged Lando, soothingly patting his back.

"You gave us quite a scare," Y/N murmured, still holding him tightly.

"It looked worse than the actual outcome it brought," he replied.

After some time, she pulled away and sat beside him, scrutinizing him carefully. Fortunately, there were no signs of serious injuries, just a few bruises and bumps.

"Thank goodness you're okay," Oscar said, glancing at him. However, Lando didn't seem overly comforted.

"Maybe I'm fine, but I completely fucked the car. I'd rather something happened to me than—" "Don't even say that," Y/N quickly interrupted him, scolding him with her gaze.

"Our cars have been total crap for a few races now, so I think you did a favor to the factory people," Oscar remarked with a reassuring smile, lifting Lando's spirits a bit, although he still shook his head.

"Total massacre. At least you fought for our honor," Norris said, looking at the aussie.

"Fought is an understatement. Oscar was ready to throw hands," the girl laughed at his comment.

"Maybe it's for the best, considering how much of a disaster the track was. And you just crashed and hopped into the warm and comfy ambulance without giving a fuck—lots of space, delicious, perfectly chilled water, phew," Piastri joked, maintaining a serious demeanor.

Lando chuckled, nodding in agreement. "I'm glad this race is behind us," Norris admitted with a sigh, wincing as he adjusted himself on the bed. "It's just a shame about the outcome."

"It doesn't matter," Y/N said, resting her head on his shoulder. "The most important thing is that you're okay."

"Since I'm fine, you shouldn't waste time here," Lando said, looking at his friends. "This is our last night in Vegas; I'd go for a wild party if I were you."

"Oh c'mon, fuck Vegas," Oscar cut in, shaking his head.

"I can't wait to leave this place," Y/N admitted, taking out her phone "I'll order us some champagne, what do you think? We need to toast to this cursed city."

"I'm a hundred percent in," Oscar nodded.

"I hope no one will be mad at us for a little party here," Y/N said, dialing a number.

"It's an open party, the McLaren house is open to everyone," Oscar added.

And as they said, so they did. Shortly after, three bottles of champagne appeared in the hospital room and each of the trio could swear that the shared evening was better than any party.

At some point, Lando stopped thinking about the past race and the unfortunate crash. His thoughts departed from that incident; he didn't even feel the pain of his bruised body as he held a perfectly chilled bottle of champagne in his hand. He couldn't also contain his smile as his friends danced in the middle of the hospital room, singing a song in his honor. At that moment, Lando was genuinely happy and understood that to feel this way, all he needed was the company of these two, who would do anything for him.

#f1 imagines #f1 one shot #formula 1 #op81 #ln4 #f1 #lando norris #oscar piastri x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris x reader x oscar piastri

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ladybirdswritings · 4 months

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Pride & Prejudice - Coriolanus {Young} Snow x Reader

Summary: Spending more time with the miserable Mr. Snow, against your will, only proves to you exactly why he is a man you have sworn to loathe for all eternity. Steamy Pride & Prejudice retelling with young snow and you! Alternate universe, au!snow <3

Notes: so happy you all loved the first part — so i guess i’m continuing ahaha. as always, thank u for leaving comments and loves as it keeps me motivated! also, feel free to lmk if you’d like to be added to the tag list <3

two

The mist of September’s end and October’s greeting is a thick, heavy blanket in the air. You only scowl at it as you pick up your tiered skirt from where it drags against emerald moss and dirt. A storm is nearby.

You would melt into this very soil if you could. Become one with the lilacs and peonies if it meant you’d never be prevailed upon to marry again by the force of your mother.

Mama is unwell. As always but, with more fervor now. The dance was most successful for Jane. She and Sejanus have been exchanging kind letters with pomegranate stained kisses garnishing the print. Even so, mama is viciously unhappy.

The cherrywood cabinets slam louder when you pass, and her eyes narrow at any mention of the gathering. Perhaps your behavior was a great embarrassment for her. If only you were as divine as Jane.

The house is lively, far too lively for your liking at this settling hour. Sisters here and sisters there. They busy themselves with the grand piano and awful singing. It isn’t long until one of the twins rushes forward with a sealed envelope clasped tightly in hand.

“Mama! It is for Jane!”

You snatch the paper from her palm, worrisome that she will ruin it with how tightly she squeezes. Beyond this, you are most eager to see the development in your own personal romance novel starring your dearest sister. Mama slaps your hand away in turn, tugging it back into a monstrous grasp that nearly shreds it to minuscule little pieces.

You see the breath halt and dwell comfortably in her throat, unwilling to part or falter. This is most important to her, trivial matter as it is.

So long as Jane is happy…

You gaze on at the girl with petal-pink cheeks and bright eyes — her smile is a thing of beauty and joy at the mere idea that Sejanus Plinth could admire her.

“Mama! What does it say!”

Her hands tremble like hummingbirds now, and your frown stitches itself promptly upon your pretty face. Oh no, he is certain to have changed his mind.

At least he was kind and gentleman enough to inform dear Jane by letter.

That joy, excitement and eagerness once swimming within your mother’s eyes has dissipated to sheer horror.

“When did we receive this?” She whispers, a ghastly and terror laced sound.

“This morning!” One of the twins happily offers, twirling her chocolate ringlet tight enough to knot.

Mama cries out a sound of agony, shoving the paper hard against Jane’s chest — enough so that she stumbles. She is a frantic thing, running round your quaint living space like that of a farm animal who has lost its head.

You are fueled by your own confusion, constricting your mind to only wait upon Jane. She shakily reads the crumbled thing — hesitance becoming her. Her eyes shift then; a look of joy, excitement, fear — then dread.

“What is it?” You whisper, watching as mama mutters nonsense and brushes the collection of scattered breadcrumbs from the countertop — eyes wide as the moon aglow at midnight.

“Mr. Plinth and his sister, alongside Mr. Snow and sir Plinth’s dear — rich uncle, have all planned to meet with us this evening. They’ve taken a carriage, and have made arrangements to arrive by sundown.”

Four pairs of eyes, in perfected unison, glance into the grassy plains where the sun has begun to set.

You do not intend to giggle at the irony, perhaps it is a thing fueled by nerves just as your mother. Yet it floats from your sweet lips like a prayer, slender fingers rushing to suffocate it.

It is undeniably numerous, however. How could it be anything but?

The way your dearest blood all melts at the brim for the gaze of three men whom are only important by cold silver is a thing of great mystery to you, something you do not understand. It is not just mama and Jane and the entirety of your own family however. No, it is all of society. You only wonder what it would be like for a woman to reach beyond the horizon line — to be great. To not be forced upon a man of all creatures to be of true importance.

Mama rushes past, so quickly your hair becomes unruly. She presses her palms firmly against your cheeks — your face piecing together like a swift minnow from the nearby fish pond.

“Oh heavens — if you do even the littlest act so to embarrass me, I am certain to die of great illness. My nerves are far too weak, you must behave for me! Be as sweet Jane is. Sir Plinth’s uncle is of the richest gentleman in Newbury, 5,000 a year! You must converse with him, do it for your dearest mother. Oh! And brush that wild hair from your face, girl. He will think you to be a witch — keep guard at the window.”

Her words are a tangled, knotted mess of all the things you despise. Even whilst tucked away into a place where you do not truly listen, you know well she is asking you to be social for gain of a husband.

You frown, grateful when the headless chicken runs off from you again. Your hand fussses with the wisps rested amongst your forehead — and you obey mama’s orders by sauntering to the creaky old chair that faces the fogged front window.

The fog is a veil, a curtain hiding from you only dread. You are grateful for it now, though it does no good for your locks and tresses. Your eyes dart to the torn book beside you — and you consider disobedience as an alternative to this state. You know well what will happen if you stray, so you do not dare it.

It is an awfully timely and punctual arrival — perhaps ten ticks of the grand, tower clock before the stallion’s snouts peek through the fog. Just as the golden halo sets beyond them.

“Mama!”

You call, but she only waves you away with a busy hand as she continues fussing with the knit table mat. You will not bother it again. You shrink, hiding all but curious eyes behind the lace curtain.

Sejanus is grinning, nervously you think. Then the scowling sister, a small, old creature with a sunken gaze — and the miserable one. They approach, you sink further.

“God Sejanus, smile any more for the poor thing and your pockets will start betraying you.” Grace sneers, voice sewn tightly with disgust at the less fortunate situation your family finds themselves in, glancing around at the quaint, pathetic home. It is as if she believes one breath of hers will cause it to collapse to the soil — to her polished feet.

“Please Grace, she is the prettiest girl I have ever seen. Oh, uncle, her eldest sister is very agreeable as well. Don’t you agree, Snow?”

Oh, he’s asked the cold thing who’s far too proud and rich for a humble party. You’re curious.

“Perfectly tolerable, I suppose. But not pretty enough to tempt me.”

Oh…

Your mischievous, sneaky grin melts into that of a hard line — ample with annoyance. How arrogant of him to say. As if his blonde locks and blue eyes make him any different than the handsome officers that pass by now and then. As if he is some prize. You scowl, Grace’s laugh an unpleasant sound.

Four hard knocks and you are quickly up to your feet.

Mama rushes to you immediately, slapping your hand enough so that it stings greatly and fades the color crimson.

“You were meant to watch! Places, take your stance girls!”

It takes beyond the greatest force to drag your feet to stand beside Jane. Mama checks each forced position anxiously before she tugs the door open wide — with a horrible, eager grin.

“Welcome!”

They trail the moss and dirt onto your oak floors, not bothering to wipe it away on the torn cloth you call a carpet. No need, they believe. The house is pathetic already as it stands. No dirt shall make it any less worthy than it already is.

In unison, a curtsy of greeting becomes all of you. Prim and proper and perfect just as mother groomed you all to be. For preparation of husbands.

Good god, the blonde looks even more dreadful now. Cold eyes darting to the old, harmless hound that chews on a racket ball. He winces at the sight of dust and chipped oak wood furniture surrounding. He looks down upon this place as if it is beneath him.

He far from belongs here.

“Sit, please sit! I’ve already prepared us supper!” Mama practically pushes Sejanus with most nervous palms, and his shadows follow suite.

Though you dream of running through the open door and fading into the mist to never be found again — you obey; sauntering into the archway with tired eyes and reluctant feet.

“My lady…”

Oh.

The short man with bushy brows and coal colored, untamed locks pulls your seat back enough so that you may sit upon it. To your dismay, the miserable one takes place in front of you. His eyes are cast downward to the far from fine silverware laid before him.

“Thank you sir.” You whisper, the chair feeling as though it is determined to suffocate you the longer you sit upon it.

“Oh, Jane — everybody, please meet my uncle, Mr. Casca Highbottom of Bristol.”

You only nod at the grinning old man, and mama rushes back like a midnight breeze through the archway — setting plates filled to the brim with but all of the food left for the entire month. Even so, it remains poor to a gazing eye. Though it matters not how little garnishes the porcelain, for when you catch gaze of miserable Snow pushing his few peas around in disgust, you cannot help but narrow your sight.

How can he be so proud? Certainly, if a humble gathering invited you in for a warm meal in this awful mist — you’d be most grateful for even a singular pea on your plate. Let alone twelve.

Grace laughs at the sight of Snow displeased — placing a soft palm against his knee beneath the cherrywood table. He spares her laugh a glance, and his lip twitches in what appears to be an amused smile. They talk lowly to each other, you notice it from where you peer behind your glass. She must be fond of him what with the way she touches him and leans closer with each word he speaks. You cannot possibly imagine why. Perhaps they are just alike. Rich, rude things.

“So — I dare ask if any suitors captured your heart at the party then?” Grace, she speaks to you now. You snort, ready to offer words of disdain and disgust toward the lot of men and their sweaty palms. Your mother’s cold glare silences you.

“No… they did not.” You mutter in quick defeat.

“Hmm, how dreadful…” it is mock sympathy, noticeable to both you and Jane.

Tension thins to a mere string lacing the table together. Silence blanketing even more so than the mist as worn silverware and mama’s embarsssing tangents erupt in painful harmony. You are grateful for Jane who manages to pry her eyes from Sejanus for a single moment so to save you from mama’s disapproving glare at your silence. She is selling you to the short man, it seems. She has been for the entirety of this meal.

“It is not as though gentlemen do not flock to my dear sister…” Jane starts. “It is simply that she is far too preoccupied with her books to notice them. She is an avid reader, adores her novels you see. She possesses great talents because of it!”

You hoped Jane would be so kind as to avert the attention. Yet it remains stable upon you, the available wife — as cattle with clipped ears. You feel as though you are livestock being powdered and pressed for the market. If the short man is buying, you’d rather be butchered.

He is awkward and stout and his jokes are uncomfortable as they are just rude. He is far from a gentleman and all the reason you deny each hand bestowed to you in the first place. For reason of men like him.

“You write?” Snow inquires.

Those cold, devoid eyes are locked upon you — and despite wishing to send him away to never return so you may be free of his arrogance, you only peer up at his gaze through fanned lashes to see them commanding an answer of you. Awaiting one.

“Occasionally, sir.”

His gaze doesn’t falter, nor does the gaze of Mr. Highbottom, even as he presses a boiled potato to his tongue.

“What of?”

What a silly question, you think. What else would a woman of your age and lack quill about?

It baffles you to find him curious. Perhaps he does not wish to seem obviously rude any more so than he simply is — perhaps he is only creating small talk.

“What else, sir? My thoughts and desires, my ideas. Romance — dramatics…”

“Oh but she just despises poetry!” Mama interjects, as if to end the conversation and refocus it upon your eligibility. Even when she speaks, Snow does not spare her a single glance. His eyes, they still rest upon you.

“You do? I thought poetry to be the food of love.”

You dare a snort then, suffocating a fit of laughter with a spoonful of food. You take your time chewing it, only offering more words when you realize that the conversation does not seem to be at its end. No. It cannot be. Not when he looks at you in a such an expectant manner.

“A poet writes of women in the gaze of all men, which I do not believe to be a true show of adoration. Perhaps it is the food of love — if you want to suffocate it. Stone it till it remains no longer.”

His next words come quick, immediately almost. As if he is grasping at the first chance to reply, much to Highbottom’s dismay whom snaps his mouth shut after losing the opportunity. Every eye in attendance is on the both of you.

Do they think you to be an enigma? You wonder…

“What do you recommend then? To encourage affection between two people…”

You do not know why he asks you this, but you can only assume it is because he wishes to embarrass you. Grace’s sharp gaze morphs into that of an amused smirk. Why would he ask the only woman seated what encourages affection when she cannot obtain it on her own?

You are certain then of his intentions. To mock you in front of Plinth’s sister, his uncle. In front of your blood. He does it so subtlety that if you were not bright as you are — you would most certainly miss it. He is a fool, a great fool because miraculously — you can reciprocate.

“Dancing… even if one’s partner is only tolerable.” You almost sneer with a tilt of your head and raise of your sharp brow.

If something truly clicks within him, it is most quickly dissipated. Most tricky to see. Sejanus clears his throat, and Highbottom — rude creature, erupts into a fit of laughter with a mouthful of food. Your mother is nervous, she joins him.

Grace only gasps, and Jane’s soft features are laced with confusion at the thing only you five are lucky enough to understand.

You remain stoic, challenging his eyes and his tense, twitching jaw with proudness.

“Shall I fetch dessert mama?”

Your mother nods through fits of forced laughter, and you take the opportunity to lift upon your feet. The chair scrapes against the creaky panels and nearly topples as you rush into the quaint kitchen and away from him.

It brings you joy knowing that he has nothing further to say.

You are smiling, terribly overflowed with pride as you place canned, sugared peaches upon ten porcelain plates. How proud he must have felt to speak lowly of you, a girl he spared little words to at a party he refrained from dancing at for it was too poor for his liking.

You disliked him then — but a chat with miss Lucy-Gray Baird while passing by in town confirmed all of your prejudice. She claims to have been treated most coldly by him whilst he was courting her. He offered his hand, then fled into midnight when he grew bored of her. Only the next morning.

He is as any other man is. A heartless hound. His behavior in your small home only further proves your prejudice is with more than enough reason.

You take longer than you should selfishly, and when you return — your gaze locks upon Sejanus who is entirely enamored by the sapphire gaze of Jane.

Mama aids you in placing down the plates you juggle. It is a poor dessert, but one that is most delectable.

“Oh well, your daughter is most precious. Funny, too! How uncommon for women.”

“Oh please uncle, we all have our wit. She is just peculiar, I daresay.”

Mama laughs at Grace’s words, and you only offer a polite, tense smile before being seated once again. It is you now that pushes your food around your plate, fading into the mist truly as you remain silent.

They speak of things you care the least bit for — all irrelevant matters to your mind. You are grateful when wine is poured, you nearly inhale it and garner a slap on your hand once again from mama.

You need it to get thought this.

Highbottom and mama speak of you, she tells him lies. How much you wish to be wed, how eager you are to find a lover. All contradictions of Jane’s earlier lick of truth. The rich fool believes her, his eyes cast upon you like poisonous darts. Slowly suffocating you.

Sejanus is preoccupied entirely by Jane — and the miserable one chats lowly with the scowling sister.

“Well, how about some music and dance? Lizzie, off to the piano!”

Your youngest sister lifts — eager to press her hands against the keys. It will be a mediocre melody but one that offers enough sound so to dance. You wish to stay glued to the table as they leave you to the living space — but mama tugs at your braid harshly, you have no choice other than obedience.

Sejanus kindly offers Jane a hand — and you feel as though you will just sink entirely into the floor as Highbottom approaches. Your heel turns you swift as you try and find even a small bit of space in this little home.

A navy vest with a crimson rose tucked into its pocket cages your escape. You never thought to see the day you’d be grateful for the cold blonde who cuts in front. You nearly collide with him.

“Dance with me.” He commands.

How baffling…

You do not notice the tension settled within your features until your brows ease in confusion. Your chin is pointed upwards — enough so that he can be equal to your gaze.

“Are you asking this of me — or ordering sir?”

His jaw ticks once more, but he does not follow up with any more words. The cleared throat of the short man behind you is enough reason to pick the far less uncomfortable poison. You’d rather be fueled by annoyance as opposed to discomfort and dread. One dance is all.

“Fine.” You mutter, sealing your fate and betraying your swear to be far away from the man whom you loathe entirely.

He is a pale thing up close. Birth marks kissing silken skin, soft as the moss kissing your shoes. You are grateful that this dance does not require touch — only the occasional closeness.

You follow him to where Sejanus and Jane stand — his head nearly reaches your ceiling. His palm hovers over yours, eyes downcast on your pretty features. Grace is scowling, again.

Your fingers twitch as Lizzie begins the sonnet, and you follow his lead.

It surprises you greatly, how well he dances. Though his mouth is a hard line, and his eyes are like round lumps of charred coal. He is noiseless.

“Are we to dance in dread and silence, Mr. Snow? I dare comment on this awful weather, now you may follow with a remark about the food. How much you despised it.”

You catch a glimpse of him, a suppressed twitch of his lips. As if the words offended him. Maybe amused him. You step forward and then back, frayed skirt floating against the movement. He follows suite.

“I could comment on how you dance. I am happy to inform you it is more tasteful than how you cook. Please do advise me on what more you want me to say to you.”

You stumble by his words — and his eyes dart to your clumsy feet. They are stable soon enough, circling him like a shark in vicious waters. His words upset you.

“Mama and Jane prepared the meal. I only prepared the peaches; but I do believe that if a family was kind enough to welcome an abrupt attendance with a warm meal — I would not be so complacent about its contents. You see — we are not all so fortunate to have garnered inheritance, Mr. Snow.” A cold melody, but one he would be a fool to ignore. It is all true.

Now it is him that halts. He steps forward, dipping his head low. Your eyes wander to his gloved palm — it clenches then flexes outward; all evidence of his annoyance with your words.

There you both stand, Sejanus and Jane alongside the twins, mama and Highbottom swirling around you. You do not know where Grace lurks.

You both are still, he stands a tower above you. His eyes pour heat into your own, admonishing you — offended with your words. It is as if the room is only filled with the two of you, the lace of connection between you just your anger. Even in your short time being familiar, it is strong.

“Do you imply that my inheritance is all the reason for my success?” He forces through clenched — perfect teeth.

“Perhaps I do sir, miss Baird of Newbury certainly agree—”

The hand that lays against your side is snatched into his own. He squeezes it tight now, eyes wide and swimming with disapproval and frustration. It has been resting at the surface, but bound to crack.

“Oh I’m certain she does. I am sure she told you the many tales of her troubles and woes brought upon by her time spent with me. You won’t speak to her again.”

It is you that steps forward now, so laced with upset that you do not notice your poor and worn shoes are stepping upon his tip toes. Up upon the rich and shined leather. Your chin is pointed upward, your stance tense.

“You command me as if I am wed to you sir, but I am not. You have come here, unannounced and unhappy with your humble plate as if we are all but a quaint inn with poor maids. Just because we gather little and obscure and we do not have pockets as generous and full as yours does not make us beneath you, Mr. Snow.”

The music halts, and your eyes shift quickly to find a concerned Jane gazing on — alongside your horrified mother. How crazed you both must look now. Stepping upon his toes with palms clasped — anger and upset becoming you both.

You release his gloved hand and part your soft lips to dismiss yourself — yet a strike of lightning cracking from above the grayed sky is a gift given, a distraction from beyond. Yet alongside it? A curse.

The horses startle, lifting to their hind legs before running far and fast with the carriage. Grace cries out from where she sulked in the shadows, and Sejanus alongside his uncle run after the wild beasts. Your sisters and mama follow.

“What are we to do!?”

“Grace, please be calm. We will fetch them.”

“We cannot travel in these conditions, boy.”

“You may rest here!”

Dread is a serpent that wraps tight round your throat — making the pounding of your heart halt entirely.

It is all a blur, but by the end of the lively conversation it is decided. They will stay. They will all stay. You bow your head, crossing your arms round the beating at your chest so to protect it.

“Excuse me.” You whisper, so low it is taken with the breeze from the open door before rushing up your dilapidated steps; knowing full well that the hospitality offered by mama, selfish reasoning or not, is the last thing a man like Mr. Snow deserves…

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cepheustarot · 9 days

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How does your crush see the relationship with you?

Attention! This reading is for entertainment purposes only. This tarot reading does not give a 100% guarantee that all the described situations will occur or being ultimate truth. You build your own life and destiny and only you know yourself best.

✧ Masterlist ✧ Paid readings

Pick a pile. Choose one or more pictures. Trust your intuition.

Pile 1: Your crush sees that you can behave distantly with him, cautiously, somewhat closed, do not show your feelings first, are not the initiator of actions and you are one of those who does not or very rarely takes the first steps. Perhaps this is because you have recently met each other and you need time to open up to a person and get used to him, it is also possible that you are closed people yourself who need a lot of time to trust. Your crush understands this and does not rush things between you, acts slowly and carefully, it is important not to alienate you and it is important that you feel comfortable first of all. In general I can say that your crush has plans for you, they are really sincere in their feelings and gradually their feelings only intensify, become stronger towards you. They see you next to them, they see you in their lives, they are already thinking about joint plans because they can be somewhat dreamy natures. They also understand that rushing into a relationship will not lead to anything good, so they take their time, carefully show their feelings so as not to alienate you away and hurt you and not to hurt themselves. They also believe that your relationship may have potential, you can make a good and harmonious couple.

Pile 2: Your crush sees that your relationship is filled with passion, a lot of strong feelings prevail and they have a feeling that you are attracted to each other, you are attracted like a magnet, they want to be with you as long as possible, see you as often as possible and for this they are looking for any opportunity to meet with you, write to you or talk. I can also say that they are the kind of people who give as much as they receive, that is, in a relationship they manifest themselves no less and no more than you, for them it is like an equivalent exchange. If you take the first step, they will meet you halfway and make the next one, if you don't show your fellings, then they will too. I can say that they do not hide their feelings but show them, they can very noticeably hint or speak directly about them, they can show their care and love through actions, touching you, talking about personal things. However, as I can see, an unpleasant situation has occurred between you, which has hurt this person and now they are in great sadness, offended, very worried about it. It is important to show them that you still value your relationship and you care about the person and his feelings and then everything between you will gradually get better.

Pile 3: As I see it your crush does not have strong romantic feelings for you yet, they are rather at the nascent stage, your crush may feel a slight sympathy but nothing more. They can also consciously keep their distance and not cross the line, not talk to romantic and deep themes, because it's too early for them or it's not a priority yet. But in general, they treat you well, they are comfortable and have fun with you, they like your company, they like to discuss and share their thoughts, they like to talk with you for a long time about some topics. I can also say that they are easy-going towards you, i mean if you say that you would like to visit a place or buy something, they will immediately offer you to go with them or buy what you so wanted. And although they keep their distance and try to keep romantic hints to a minimum, they also do not close themselves from this topic, that is, they still allow the opportunity to enter into a relationship with you, they look closely at you as their lover. And here there is a high probability that you will have mutual feelings for each other.

Thank you for reading! I will be glad of any feedback 🖤

#tarot #tarot cards #pick a card #pick a card reading #pick a pile #pick a pile reading #pac #pick a photo #pick a picture

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spotlightlowlife · 3 months

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manipulating the audience hazbin a helluva easy feat

I will stop these titles one day

Anyone notice how Lucifer behaved a chauvinistic dude bro when faced with Adam, made worse that he was in the presence of his daughter.

So did Lucifer cheat on Lilith?

Or was this yet another sugar sugardaddy x sugarbaby power x pov exchange only with the inclusion of the most liberal woman ever?

Adam didn't initiate the gotcha girl and gotcha girl again mockery and gave no impression of caring about this, why was this the only thing Lucifer had to rub in his face? Adam would actually go on to open up about his envy of the sinners not appreciating him for being their ancestor.

Lucifer simply thinks sinners suck and agrees to the exterminations happening.

He is welcome to be smug.

This is just fine.

This franchise has a pattern of this, it gives the impression that this is intentional knowing full well that along as the audience backs the right horse, they can do no wrong, insert anything anywhere and loyalty or silence prevails.

We witness Angeldust, after persistently S harrassing Husk opening up about how he isn't as comfortable or confident about the world he's in. We see for ourselves that as sex positive as he tries to portray, he's nowhere near in control.

We then in a later episode witness Sir Pentious get SA as a gag, made worse that he was inebriated but still managed to do nothing but resist. This same episode Angeldust gets a serious scene standing up to his S predator.

Valentino is the prominent sexual predator of these stories, because Angledust is unhappy.

Elsewhere his royal, prehistoric 'good twin', Ozzie the prince of lust isn't to blame for the sexdolls he puts out of his lover Fizzoroli, the prince of greedy who shows no interest in sex outside of adding it to a checklist of things that sell is to blame, we are abruptly told this and guided to accept it because 'cute ship', even though that ship has moved into not so fun sugardaddy x sugarbaby territory, edging towards that of the awkward transactionship of powerful, bored prince Stolas and reluctant, disadvantaged little imp Blitzø, a predatory setup that's ok because both characters get the positive spotlight and Blitzø benefits and doesn't behave like a textbook victim.

Pentious didn't and did...

Stolas backstory is very significant, there is no sex positivity with his character, he was forced into a betrothal when he was a little child, forced into marriage as a teenager and made to have a child. His elders are to be honoured.

Who else found themselves in this exact same situation? Stella. They have an identical backstory.

Notice how, simply by switching some known characters around, Mammon and Fizz's interactions were a diluted spin on Blitzø and Moxxie? Fizz has a whole life away from Mammon, whose pageants chooses to compete in yearly, joint venture merchandise he promotes and phone calls he takes. He has a lover, a palace to roam around in and a day job. Blitzø works full time with Moxxie, breaks into his home, voyers on Moxxie and his wife, follows them on dates and has screwed their mutual ex for that reason.

Both Mammon and Blitzø push Fizz and Moxxie into work when they don't want to, however we have no evidence of Fizz always being reluctant, on the contrary we once saw him look forward to going to pageant rehearsal. Unlike Fizz however, Moxxie has shown open resistance to doing things in the form of crippling fear, reason and angry argument, it all makes no difference. Mammon commented on Fizz appearing to have gained weight however fat jokes aimed at Moxxie have been plentiful, something Blitzø has partook in.

The tone is that Mammon is the villain because Fizz is sad, Fizz who had not been shown to be another Moxxie previously but when it come time for him to be a victim, he was places into a Blitzø Moxxie relationship which this time around wasn't funny.

The tone alternatively is that Blitzø is eccentric, excusable and a fun lead to follow and Moxxie is the punching bag.

Notice how striker is a "supremisist" for wanting to bring down those at the top but it's perfectly ok for Blitzø to kill nobodies like himself.

elsewhere it's ok for Alastor to do the same to those like him with the reluctan support of Charlie who's goal it is to save these people.

Despite there existing an actual cannibal town, pimps and selling of souls being something she is acutely aware of, we are swayed to take Charlie's side as she sits in a position of power with her select besties at her hotel, that may have hard dr ugs on the premises, doing very little outreach even though we see community among extras, who does deals with literal lesser devils, in a world her dad created, her dad who allows exterminators to deal with who he sees as nuisances but she sees as 'family' and there's no conflict of interests, who do we see as the black and white baddies from day one? The angels.

Those who don't even sit at the top or know how things work to be specific.

Not Vaggie though.

Your favs are allowed to be dbags too, it doesn't make you reprehensible to see this and still like them!

#hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel lucifer #Hazbin hotel Adam #helluva boss stella #helluva boss stolas #helluva boss blitzo #helluva boss mammon #helluva boss criticism #hazbin hotel charlie #long post

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esmedelacroix · 2 months

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Romeo e Giulietta[a mafia love story] pt.1

mafioso!miguel x f!mafioso!reader 🂱

cw: suggestive

first part | miguel masterlist

prev ←→ next

The prevailing belief was that once Antonio Romano was too old, the Romano family's dominion over the Italian Mafia would end. Although he had a daughter, his wife had died during childbirth, so he had no son to take over. His daughter didn't take 'no' for an answer when it came to taking over the Mafia. With extensive training, she finally became the leader of the Mafia after her father's retirement...

—

You're the most powerful woman in all of Italy. Everyone assumed you couldn't be as good of a Mafioso as your father. But, they were so wrong; you are pretty reckless and never have a plan. But your carefree attitude only added more fun to your line of work.

You have a few rules in your familia. Never go out unarmed. Never be transparent about your affiliation. Don't let others read you. Blood is thicker than water. Never trust the O'Haras.

Another rule that could easily be added is: don't ever mention the head of the O'Hara Family Mafia, Miguel O'Hara. You hate each other so much, but anyone would think that, right? Your family feud dates back centuries, it's so old that no one really remembers why you're supposed to hate each other in the first place. But that doesn't matter because you do. Anytime your families have to meet to make a negotiation, you would always get into heated arguments with one another and request privacy.

When you were in private, you would argue even more. Your bodyguards would hear vases and glasses shatter onto the floor. They wondered how fostering so much hate for a single person was possible.

If only they knew what was happening in there...

Miguel would slide everything off the table to place you on it as he trailed wet hot kisses down your neck, leaving marks in areas only the two of you could see. If only they knew how hard you tried to stay quiet when Miguel had your legs spread across the table. You would resort to pulling at tufts of his hair as he feasted between your legs.

No one would ever really know the true nature of the intimate looks you exchanged when no one was looking, and they would most certainly never know that when Miguel claimed to be bringing women home from the club, it was really their biggest competitor in the Italian mafia scene in his room.

But you hate each other so much...

—

You woke up to the sun beaming through the floor-to-ceiling window that gave a beautiful view of the city. You had gotten so used to waking up in Miguel's bed. That morning you had a breakfast with your father that started two hours ago. You had to hurry and sneak out. You slowly got out of bed, trying not to wake him. Your attempts were useless, though, because, in a matter of seconds, you felt his big warm hands wrap around your waist, pulling you back onto the bed with your back flush against his chest.

"Per favore[please], Miguel, I have a hectic morning," she said as she removed his hands from around her waist and got out of bed to change back into her clothes.

His lazy eyes watched you as you walked around the room naked, gathering all your clothes from the night before putting your pants on. He was mesmerized by everything you did, even when you've been together for eight years.

He slowly crept behind you when you were about to put your blouse on and buried his head in the crook of your neck.

"Can you just stay for five more minutes? What are you so busy doing today?" he asked as he rested his head on your shoulder, his voice still raspy; if you had no self-control, you would have folded from his voice alone.

"Well, I'm too busy kicking your ass all day as usual," you replied as you put your earrings on, smiling at him through the mirror. He rolled his eyes playfully, accepting defeat.

"Please, baby, just five minutes," he said lowly in her ear, knowing the effect he had on you. He slowly started to trail kisses down your neck. You leaned into him and hummed in pleasure, tilting your head back into his shoulder to give more access to your neck. You heard your phone buzz snapping you out of the trance he put you in.

"Mio amato[My love], seriously, I have to go, so help me sneak out of here," you said eagerly.

"Yes, ma'am," he sighed as he looked around the hallway to confirm that no one would see you; but he was always armed, just in case.

You successfully snuck to the back door without running into anyone. You draped your arms around the nape of Miguel's neck and kissed him.

"Will I be seeing you at the charity event tonight?" you asked hopefully.

"Of course, sweet stuff; now get out of here," he joked. You rolled your eyes and blew him a kiss. The moment you turned away, he landed a firm smack on your ass, causing you to yelp, turn around and shake your head at him.

"Watch it," she warned playfully before disappearing into the streets.

—

You opened your front door hoping that your father would be off at the range or playing polo with friends despite you missing breakfast plans.

"Giulietta Bianca Romano," you heard your father's stern voice call from the living room couch. you were almost fully up the stairs when he caught you trying to sneak back in. Shit.

. . .

→ next part

taglist: @dei-drei @starrygetou @decentsoupperson

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whateverisbeautiful · 3 months

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♥️ Ranking Richonne

#12: Kiss Of Life (S7E05)

Ooh it’s called the Kiss of Life for a reason. 🤩 No one does passion like Richonne. ❤️‍🔥 This marvelous scene seriously has a hold on me and features my absolute favorite Richonne kiss (thus far 😏). The moment is just so good and mesmerizes me like no other. It's legitimately hypnotic. And that’s why, even tho Rick and Michonne barely speak in this scene, it absolutely makes my top 12. And you know the kiss is good when you have multiple favorite parts of it lol...

First, it’s important to note that it’s not just the kiss that makes me adore and appreciate this scene but how extremely meaningful this exchange is based on where Rick and Michonne are at during this part of the story.

This was one of the hardest and most depressing seasons for them as they wrestled with losing people they loved and then being expected to be Negan’s servants indefinitely.

And during this Negan era, it’s one of the rare times when Rick and Michonne are on notably different pages about how to approach the situation. And while Michonne told Rick she’d try to accept this way of "life," it’s clearly eating away at her to just sit and let Negan torment her family.

It’s eating away at Rick too, but with the love he has for tf, and especially for Michonne and his children, at this stage in the show he really feels like he’d rather suffer like this with them than fight and lose them.

This was such a tough time for them, and yet Rick and Michonne's love so heartily prevails with this special kiss. It's the definition of true love's kiss, if you ask me. 🤩

So first, I always feel for Rick at the top of 7.05 when he’s talking to Carl, who is understandably frustrated and behaving coldly to his dad. All Rick wants is for his family to be okay, and they’re so clearly not okay right now, which you know weighs on him.

And I’m not the only one who feels for him because Michonne is of course also in the room for this Grimes family moment, and she seems to be really empathizing with Rick as well.

So then Rick and Aaron walk out of the room, and Michonne follows and, again, shoutout Aaron for leaving to give Rick and Michonne a private moment lol. Cuz the moment was perfection. 😍 Like for real tens across the board...

Rick and Michonne stand in front of each other, and Rick invites her to join them if she changes her mind. I love that he always wants her with him.

I remember even watching live, I could tell that Michonne wanted to go with him too, cuz magnets don’t part. But she’s of the mindset that she has to try and go out on her own to fight this for the both of them if he’s not ready to fight back yet.

Michonne quietly and compassionately says, "good luck" and even tho Rick is clearly sad and knows this could be a moment of distancing, he still wants to close the gap and at least hug her goodbye, which I appreciate. 🥰

So he goes in for this hug, and whenever I think back to when I first watched this scene live, I just smile because I remember how excited I was that Rick was simply going to hug Michonne and maybe kiss her on the cheek or whatever it looked like he was about to do. But little did I know we were in for something...

Because as he goes in for this cute husband-off-to-work hug, Michonne stops him by gently placing her hand on his face. And I will forever love the choreography of this whole moment.

I love that it’s this moment of Michonne redirecting to let Rick know she wants to send him off right and make it crystal clear to him that even tho they’re going different ways right now, she is not upset with him, disappointed in him, or pulling away from him.

So she warmly takes his face, and then there's this subtle moment where Rick does that signature Rick Grimes head tilt in her hands as he tries to assess what this moment is about.

You can see a heartbreaking split second of Rick seemingly wondering if this is her literally and figuratively pushing him away. And what most pains me is knowing Rick thinks he deserves whatever disappointment or distance Michonne might potentially feel toward him. 😭

His past relationship saw his former wife push him away during a very vulnerable time after he had to kill his best friend for trying to kill him, so it's like he's briefly expecting something like that again.

But one thing that wonderful woman Michonne is always going to do is let Rick know, this is different. 🙌🏽

It's the very thing Rick told Carl the literal morning after he and Michonne first got together - where homeboy didn't even want to wait a few hours before reassuring his son that he and Michonne are gonna be long-term. (which I always am just fully amused by that whole 6.11 scene btw. from rick lowkey forgetting he's talking to his son by emphasizing, "it just happened," carl's reaction to seeing his dad in a tizzy, and judith's 'office' look in the camera. gold 😂. michonne's fam is the cutest, y'all)

And "this is different" has remained an accurate way to describe the elevated love Richonne has with each other.

Because see, now Rick isn't with a love in his life, he's with the love of his life. He's with the one (& only 👑). This is his unequivocal soulmate who will be by his side through any and everything. And I love that Michonne always manages to show Rick that he's met his match in a way he's never experienced before.

So thankfully Rick doesn’t have to ponder what this moment is about for long because Michonne quells any and all of those fears when she proceeds to kiss him with passion in an abundance. It’s utterly perfect. 😍😍😍

No words needed, and she still manages to say everything. I still love you. I still crave you. And I’m still with you was expressed loud and clear. 👏🏽

And Michonne really is such a commendable queen for doing this and making sure no wedge was created between her and her husband. This kiss really made any distance they had prior disappear, and it so beautifully let Rick know he is still cherished and appreciated by his wife.

He needed this moment more than he could probably even express. But of course, without even having to say it, Michonne knew this was needed because she always knows her man. 😊

This moment also feels like something she's been wanting to do since that fateful and scary night in the line-up where there were several times she could've lost him.

Like you know the fact that Rick is still with her and they're still alive, is something she's grateful for and doesn't take for granted. So she needed this moment too. And this kiss lets everyone know that while Negan may have nearly broken their spirits, he can never break their love.

The level of passion in this kiss is great for many reasons, but especially because you know after the lineup Rick and Michonne are now both so much more aware of how quickly things can go fatally wrong and how whenever you leave home and part ways you really could not make it back home to each other. It makes me think about how Glenn left ASZ just to quickly retrieve Daryl, but then he never returned to their home again. 😢

So as Rick prepares to go off on this run with Aaron, he and Michonne really kiss like it could be their last because that's an unfortunate possibility. (even though not too much of a possibility since they're the ones who live, amen. 😌)

And then my absolute favorite part of this kiss is when Rick so clearly gets fully immersed in this moment with Michonne and pulls her closer to him. I freaking LOVE that little gesture of him pulling her into him. 😍 It felt like it was Rick's turn to also let Michonne know - I still love you. I still crave you. I’m still with you.

Rick and Michonne just fit so perfectly together and I love the way they can always get lost in each other. Truly, in that moment for them, it felt like they were the only two in the world and all the other stuff didn’t matter. Their ability to be so present with each other is so special. 🥹

And she was already so close to him but the fact that he pulled her even closer...Magnets. And then whoever pointed out that Michonne kisses his top and bottom lip is a real one because I never noticed it before, but now it’s my other favorite part of this moment. 😋

They were really wild for this whole kiss, y'all. It feels great to be so spoiled. And we're Blessed with a capital B that this ship is literally everything we could dream of. 😌

This kiss is of course steamy and heavenly, but also it is just so powerful. For Rick and Michonne to be going through what they’re going through and feeling so differently about their current circumstances, it is so powerful that they close the gap rather than widen it. That they express authentic love for each other more than opposition.

This moment solidified that Richonne has what it takes to rise above anything and that even when they have entirely different opinions on a subject as big and serious as how to approach fighting for their lives and their people, they will still always be with each other. Wholly, Deeply, & Forever.

Again, I so appreciate that Richonne always chooses each other. And also this kiss was only our second time seeing them kiss like this since their canon ep, and man did they deliver. Like...

I’ve always felt that something so special about Richonne is that they are not like some TV couples who are more interesting in their pre-canon "Will They/Won't They" phase, and then when they finally do get together it doesn’t quite live up to all the steamy passion of their build-up.

With Rick and Michonne it’s a whole different story cuz moments like this kiss let us know that all that steamy passion and build-up was not only matched but topped when they were finally able to express the love they felt romantically.

Also, when they lost Carl the following season, it was this kiss of life in s7 that I’d think about because I believe this is an illustration of what Michonne and Rick ultimately land on even amidst the toughest adversity. They land on love, which has proven true time and time again.

And as always their moments after the kiss are also profoundly passionate as they look into each other's eyes and then do their signature thing of leaning their heads against each other, truly almost as if finding their center with each other.

I love that they stay in this moment awhile, again with no words necessary to communicate how much they love and are with each other.

They are the epitome of soulmates, and the way their love shined through in this quiet moment made that clear.

And then I love that Rick can’t help but express gratitude to Michonne for giving him his entire life with that kiss, so he fittingly says what he always finds a way to say to her, "thank you." The absolute cutest. 😊 You know Rick ain't been kissed like that ever before lol. Michonne has that man forever entranced, and I love to see it.

And the thing is, Rick has a special effect on Michonne too, cuz you can clearly see it in the way she looks at him as well.

In one kiss Michonne and Rick were able to breathe life into each other and quiet all the worry of them being on the rocks. They might still have big differences at this point, but nothing will ever be strong enough to divide them.

(that's why when I hear lines like say, "we are the strongest military on the planet" or "we're the last light of the world," or whatever, my only thought is - and yet you're still no match for Richonne. 💅🏽 Rick and Michonne Grimes prove they're the ones who live and the ones whose love is unstoppable every time. 👌🏽)

So it was a big deal for Richonne to have this moment in 7A. I appreciate that Michonne knew her man needed to be lifted up and reminded just who he is to her, and she did just that like only she can. And as the kiss went on, Rick let her know he felt just as strongly about her.

This important kiss shows that Rick and Michonne’s love is unbreakable, and I treasure this scene as such an undeniably powerful moment between them. I love their love, and I will adore this Kiss of Life for life. 😌

#richonne #top 30 #number 12 #rick x michonne #twd 7.05 #reveling in richonne #twd towl #the ones who live

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zvaigzdelasas · 7 months

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youtube

Regrettably history for some media and politicians start when Israelis are killed. Our people have endured one deadly year after another, we came to the security council month after month warning of the consequences of Israeli impunity and international inaction. Last october, about a year ago, we stated before the security council the Palestinian people will be free one day or another - one way or another. We chose the peaceful way, the one the international community advocates for. Do not let Israel prove us wrong - for our sake and theirs. This is not a time to let Israel double down on its terrible choices; this is a time to tell Israel it needs to change course - that there is a path to peace where neither Palestinians nor Israelis are killed - and it is the one diametrically opposed to the one Israel is embarked on.

Israel keeps saying the blockade and repeated assaults on gaza are to destroy Hamas military capabilities and ensure security - clearly and expectedly its blockade and assaults accomplished neither. The only thing they did accomplish was inflicting terrible suffering on an entire civilian population. It is time for an immediate end to the violence and the bloodshed, and it is time to end this blockade and to open a political horizon. When Israel now tries to justify yet another assault by the same faulty premise, no one should say or do anything to encourage it down this path - we know only too well that the messages about Israel's right to defend itself will be interpreted by Israel as licensed to kill - to pursue on the very path that led us here: 370 and the number is rising by the moment of Palestinians that have been killed already in one day - including children, some barely a few months old - entire families were killed in their sleep. Will this bring security? will this advance peace?

Where is the international protection the Palestinian people is entitled to when the occupying power violates international law and harms those it is obliged to protect? are Palestinians lives worth saving? the Palestinian civilians killed - the Palestinian children killed - in occupied Palestine could have been spared. Isnt` that a moral and legal obligation and a contribution to peace? why nothing is done when those killed are Palestinians? we need to think hard of what logic we want to see prevail here. If this is about vengeance then many Palestinians will feel they have much to avenge. If this is about peace then the way to it is not through further entrenching oppression and occupation but by ending it. You cannot say nothing justifies killing Israelis and then provide justification for killing Palestinians. We are not subhumans. Let me repeat: we are not subhumans. We will never accept a rhetoric that denigrates our humanity and reneges our rights. A rhetoric that ignores the occupation of our land and oppression of our people. There is no right to security that trumps the right of a nation to self-determination. The fulfillment of our right to self-determination is the only path towards shared peace and security. We chose the peaceful path to achieve our rights, but Israel continued using blunt force against Palestinian lives and Palestinian rights. Israel cannot wage a full scale war on a nation - its people, its land, its holy sites - and expect peace in exchange. One needs to address the root causes of the conflict and by doing so we will be addressing its consequences. We have been calling for a different rationale, a different approach - justice not vengeance, freedom not occupation, peace not war. Our calls should be heeded. The alternative is playing out under our very eyes.

Israel has announced dozens of times that it had handled the Palestinian problem by war against our people, or peace with others - since 1948 till a few days ago in the statement of netanyahu in front of the general assembly. Netanyahu held during that speech in these United Nations a map denying the existence of Palestine - a map of aggression and annexation. To all the peacemakers to all those who believe in the un charter and international law: one cannot lose sight of the bigger picture. We need to stand up for the vision enshrined in the resolution of the security council and the general assembly, and to take the necessary measures to ensure compliance with their provisions. We need to uphold international law not abandon it.

Everybody in the room behind me who will be meeting in few minutes agree on the end end game. Israel expects and demands political and military support while advancing goals that are fundamentally at odds with international legitimacy and consensus. Its policies are an assault on our humanity, on international law, on peace, and are a threat for its own people. Can those supporting Israel ignore its colonialist and racist agenda? that would be self-defeating.

A different path is possible - I repeat, a different path is possible - but it cannot ignore the lives and rights of the Palestinian people. It must guarantee them equal measures of freedom and security. You cannot stand for peace if you do not stand up to occupation. Do it because it is the right thing to do - morally, legally, politically, and because it will save lives. Peace will save lives because it is the only way forward. I thank you very much.

#Youtube

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strayflowersstarsandlove · 3 months

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Fire fire (hwanghyunjin)

"I've always liked to play with fire fire". Fire. If it wasn't for the fact that watching Hyunjin dance gave you the ultimate chills, fire would have been a very fitting word to evoke the burning sensation at the pit of your stomach.

Which you weren't sure was due to just the insane amount of passion and talent he was clearly displaying while running through the dance routine he self choreographed... Or the fact that Yeji was dancing with him. And you. Couldn't. Help. The. Jealousy. What a horrible horrible feeling jealousy is.

You hated it with a burning passion, the same passion you could clearly see in their dancing skills. They weren't even performing yet, just rehearsing at the dance studio, and yet their energy was impeccable, the control over their bodies astounding, they exuded talent. The routine was so intense and electric evrytime they locked eyes you felt just how complicit and in synch they were.

You almost felt like an intruder at some point, like you weren't supposed to be watching something so captivating, borderline intimate. You were so immensely proud of your boyfriend and in true, genuine awe of Yeji's skills, but you just couldn't shake the creeping vile thing tugging at your insides.

"Woah! That was awesome!", Hyunjin shouts, panting and sweating abundantly as he lurches forward to grab his water bottle and theatrically falls to the ground from the exhaustion, his arms and legs spreading apart so he's laying on the floor like a starfish. The song they had been playing on loop throughout rehearsals stops and you swallow down the uneasiness in your throat: you clap enthusiastically as Yeji bows and giggles bashfully, her bright ginger hair falling messily out of her high ponytail.

She looks lovely, you think. She is beautiful and fit and knows how to move her body so well. "You did a great job, guys. Well done very well done", you say earnestly, as they both thank you and exchange a quick, friendly goodbye hug, "I sincerely apologise but I really got to blast, I have a schedule in less than 20 minutes. Thank you so much for today", Yeji frets adorably, she bows deeply again and then gathers her stuff as she waves you and Hyunjin goodbye, a foot already out the door.

Hyunjin grabs a clean trowel from a wicker basket in the corner and alternates dabbing down his face and his neck to big swigs of water as he slowly recollects and calms down. He sprawls out on the floor next to you, his chest rising and falling quickly as his hand crawls on your lap for you to take it. You smile weakly at him and slightly play with his fingers, now that you're alone with him and the studio is silent, the sound of your own thoughts begins to grow louder, you really have to concentrate to try not to let them prevail over your mouth.

"Is everything okay?". You avert your eyes from your lap where you've been keeping Hyunjin's hand, even though you had long stopped touching him, so caught up in your head you absent mindedly just left him hanging there, your fingers suspended mid air above his own. You nod slightly, not daring to meet his eyes even though you can feel him looking at you, from the corner of your eyes you see him sucking in his cheeks and pouting as he fixes his eyes on your face in either concentration or brooding.

Hyunjin's not one to push you. He will observe you from afar and wait for you to make the first move if you wish to, but he's not going to initiate anything, this much you know. And there were certain times where you appreciated this observing, conscious side of him. You liked how he knew how to read the signs and gave you ample space and time to simmer down in order to eventually approach him. This being one of the times you're glad he isn't pushing you, though his whole demeanor speaks for itself as he's clearly not happy at how you seem to have shut down completely.

To be fair you two hadn't been very talkative the whole morning even while driving to the studio, you knew he had been working so hard to come up with the choreography for Play With Fire, endless were the days where he left at 6 in the morning and came back home at 1am. You also knew he had been practicing with Yeji for the last few weeks. The slimy seed of jealousy had been growing and growing inside of you for days on end now.

"Okay... I'm gonna go over the routine a couple more times and then we can go. You don't have to sit through this again if you don't want to", Hyunjin says lowly, already walking towards the Bluetooth speaker so he can restart the song. Something about his tone sounds a little condescending but a little meek too, and it makes you tick.

You know he's stressed out and overworked and you know you're not acting your best right now but you can't help but feel a mixture of annoyance and hurt. He had asked you to come see him at practice, you didn't just invite yourself over. You had been hesitant too, at first, mostly cause you thought the dance floor was his sacred place and you weren't supposed to invade his space.

When you eventually found out he was going to practice the whole routine with Yeji you had even insisted you weren't so sure it was right for you to be here, possibly meddling with the chemistry and coordination the performance required of them. "I want to be here, Hyunjin. I wouldn't have come in the first place otherwise", you say softly, but he doesn't hear you.

The music booms through the speakers again and he goes back into full performer mode. Somehow managing to dance just as consistently as earlier, if not with even more decisiveness and impactfulness in his movements. All the while remaining gracious, moving fluidly.

Here's something you always admired about him: he moved like water. The definition of fluidity and grace, an undertone of something very dramatic and intentional in the way he contorted his body, in the way the look on his face always matched the vibe and intensity of the song he was dancing to. His body was the show itself, in a way. And you were hypnotized.

This time he ends the routine by dropping on his knees right in front of you, the last act of his performance where he's supposed to snap to his side and point his arms and fingers to Yeji now happening before you, mere inches away from you, his eyes intense and dark as his breathing is labored and his whole body is tense.

You, on the other hand, are awestruck, your eyes wide and dumbfounded at the unexpected ending: "you are really fucking hot for doing that you know?". Your mouth moves before you can even form any other coherent thought and you slap your hand over your mouth while Hyunjin quite literally falls to the floor in high pitched giggles, hands clapping, knees shaking and all.

The tension finally breaks between you two and you laugh just as loudly, shaking you head in disbelief at the words that just came out of your mouth just like that. You fall on your back and hold your stomach from the cramps while Hyunjin crawls over to you and pecks your lips, "thank you, I really needed that", he exclaims, still giggling a little, he pushes back his newly cut red hair, his hand running through the shortened ends out of habit, he presses his forearm to his forehead, trying to dry some of his sweat.

He looks so hot, you weren't lying. You close your eyes and breath out the last of your laughter, your hand reaching for his, this time playing with his fingers with more intention to it, "I'm sorry for being so sulky, I promise I loved seeing you practice", you confess, "you sat through the same routine for over 4 hours, even if you didn't love it anymore, I would have understood that", he replies, his breathing still uneven and fast, "was there any reason for your being sulky? I thought you were mad at me", he adds after taking a swig if his water.

You open your eyes now, forced with the reality of having to fully confess. You pull yourself up a little and bury your face in your hands, "I feel terrible. I was never mad at you I'm just.....", you sigh and drag your hands down your cheeks in an exasperated manner, "I guess seeing you and Yeji dance like that made me feel... Jealous".

The cat's out of the bag and if for a brief second you felt even the tiniest but if relief in telling him, it's immediately followed by the most unnerving frustration at your own self, shame filling you right up.Hyunjin pries your hands away from your face and looks at you with fond eyes. Which is unexpected to say the least.

"Jagi...", he murmurs softly, cupping your cheek in his palm, "you're jealous of Yeji? For real?", he asks patiently, "It's so stupid I know, you guys are both so talented and so professional and you barely even touch while dancing and Yeji is so so lovely and sweet and I feel like a complete idiot". You didn't even mean to cry but fresh teardrops spill out of your eyes regardless. You feel horrible. On the other hand Hyunjin seems touched, sad for you even.

He gently kisses your tear stained cheeks as he tucks your hair behind your ears so they don't stick to your face, "it's not stupid and you're not an idiot. You just care, a lot. I'm sorry you felt like that, me and Yeji go back years and years. We were trainees together, me and Chan hyung used to hang out with her and Ryujin back in the day. As friends, just as friends. She's like a little sister to me".

You nod slightly, reaching for his hands so you can press soft kisses to his wrists and knuckles, "I'm sorry, please forgive me, I trust you, I really do. I just got too invested with how sexy the performance is", you mumble in between sobs, Hyunjin grins at you and coos, "it's okay y/n, it's okay", he slowly guides you down onto the floor, he hovers above your body and ever so gently distributes his weight on top of you.

He kisses your jaw and your neck, cushiony lips pressing on your throat, his damp hair tickles your chin and your faint sobbing mixes with the soft hiccups of your stifled laughs, "see... that's better, jagi, so much better", he murmurs.His heartbeat quickens against your ribcage, kisses become sloppier and hungrier, hands roam underneath your shirt.

Your limbs become tangled in a matter of few minutes, your pants are off, his breath is hot on you, your fingers knotting his hair. Fire. Chills. Fire again. You're burning up with lust now. Whatever trace of sadness and jealousy leaving your soul with every item of clothing that gets removed from your body.

"Hyunj-Hyune... uh" , you hiss as his teeth sink into an especially tender spot on the side of your neck, "what if-uh what if someone walks in?", you manage to ask, pulling at the last fragment of sanity left in you when Hyunjin rolls his hips into you, "door's locked", he replies hastily as he pulls down both his pants and his boxers at once to then reprise his kisses on your very swollen very red mouth, "the place is rented for another hour and half".

It has most definitely been over an hour and half but nobody has come knocking at the door. You and Hyunjin are still laying on the floor, still tagled, still breathless. The heavenly weight of his body and the feeling of him still inside of you are enough to keep you high and exhilarated long after your climax.

You kiss his cheek repeatedly as he pants, hiding in the crook of your neck. "Thank you", you mumble underneath your breath and Hyunjin lifts his head up just a bit, looking at you confusedly in his hazy, messy, wonderful state, "what are you thanking me for? For making love to you?", you giggle and peck his lips, "everything. Just everything. You certainly know how to love me good, really good". Hyunjin smiles contentedly and readjusts himself right back into you, "no need to thank me. Especially when I'm inside you. There's nothing I won't do for you".

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