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mellowinfluencermiracle · 2 days

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Hello I am a huge fan of this fanfic your doing, but can I please request, the grid watching a spicy scene of her show? Or her in a body suit type like the picture below? I think Carlos reaction would be funny

Of couse! I had so much fun writing this! My request are OPEN and feedback is always welcome. -XoXo

The unexpected red-flag

The conference room fell into stunned silence as the rain drummed relentlessly against the windows. The TV murmured in the background, its volume turned low, but it was the soft, melodic voice of Amira Sainz that cut through the quiet.

News had spread like wildfire: Baby!Sainz, the beloved sister of Carlos, would grace the third season of the renowned Netflix series “Narcos”. The drivers, usually a rowdy bunch, now sat in hushed anticipation. For Carlos, this was more than just excitement; it was a lifeline. His sister’s return to the family was long overdue, and the chance to witness her artistic brilliance on screen made his heart swell.

Yet, their busy lives as racers left little room for leisure. Days blurred into nights, filled with data analysis and the adrenaline rush of the track. But fate intervened during the red flag at Spa, where the heavens unleashed torrents of rain. The perfect opportunity arose: why not start watching “Narcos” during this unexpected break?

Surprisingly, it was Yuki who suggested it. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he proposed the idea, met with a chorus of enthusiastic “yeah’s” and “omg, yes!” from the other drivers. Carlos and Oscar, absent at the moment, would soon join the impromptu viewing party.

And so, they embarked on their journey into the world of drug cartels, corruption, and intrigue. They skipped scenes where Amira wasn’t present, eager to witness her talent firsthand. But little did they know that the next scene would unravel secrets and twists they never anticipated.

Let's just say Amira Sainz looked good with and without clothes. Throughout her spicy scene, the drivers were so silent. They all looked at her dreamily on the TV when she kissed the guy and started taking of her clothes and-

"¡Eh, estúpidos idiotas! ¿Qué demonios estáis haciendo? ¡¿Por qué demonios estáis viendo a mi hermana desvestirse?!" questioned an angry Carlos. As soon as he saw his little sister on the TV he went into full overprotective big brother mode.

Instantly, Logan shot back, “It’s not what it looks like,” while Fernando chimed in with a soothing “Hermano, you have to calm down.” Meanwhile, Lance attempted diplomacy: “Carlos Boy, we can talk like adults.”

The other drivers rallied, attempting to quell the hot-blooded Spanish driver. But amidst the chaos, Oscar slipped away, drawn by curiosity. He cornered Lando, who was practically bursting with excitement.

“I can’t believe I missed this. How was it?” Oscar leaned in, eager for details.

Lando’s eyes sparkled. “Oscar, you should have heard her speak Spanish. And her hair—oh, her hair falls down her back like—” His words were cut short.

“LANDO NORRIS! STOP TALKING ABOUT MY SISTER, YOU CREEP!” Carlos’s voice thundered across the room, drowning out the rain and the TV.

From the commentator box outside, a muffled sound reached their ears—a high-pitched scream. Lando Norris, usually unflappable on the track, had met his match in Carlos’s protective fury.

#carlos sainz x sister!reader #charles leclerc x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #alex albon x reader #george russell x reader #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #daniel riccardo x reader #lance stroll x reader #pierre gasly x reader #yuki tsunoda x reader #baby!sainz!sister

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holylulusworld · 12 hours

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Snookums

Summary: Bucky is sad.

Pairing: Biker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: a little angst, fluff, misunderstandings

A/N: A short drabble.

He’s angry. At the world. At himself. At the fact that you decided to celebrate your birthday with your family and without him.

Bucky paces back and forth. He wonders why you decided that he’s not the kind if man you can introduce to your family.

“Fuck,” he curses and stops in his tracks. He looks at all the picture frames of you and Bucky on the fireplace mantel. “She thinks I’m not good enough. I knew she would realize that she could do better.”

He sighs again and shakes his head. Bucky got you all the nice gifts. He bought scented candles and your favorite flowers. Now you told him that you will go for lunch with your family.

Bucky looks at the newest picture frame you placed on the fireplace mantel. You are sitting on his bike, smirking as he stands behind you, his arms wrapped around your middle. He grabs the frame, staring at the picture again.

He walks toward the couch, the picture frame in his hands. “Doll…” Bucky presses the frame to his heart and sniffs. He knew it was only a matter of time before you’d leave him.

Lost in self-doubts he doesn’t recognize you walk inside his living room.

“There you are,” you place one hand on your heart and sigh, relieved. “Fuck, you scared the shit out of me, Bucky.”

“Doll?” He looks up to meet your eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh-I came here because you didn’t come to the restaurant. I feared you had an accident or something. We waited for you at the restaurant for over an hour.”

“Restaurant?” He slowly gets up from the couch. “But…you wanted to eat with your family. I wasn’t invited.”

“What?” You wrinkle your forehead. “Bucky, I told you about the restaurant and when we will meet. Why didn’t you come?”

“You didn’t invite me,” he sniffs. “I can’t crash a party.”

“Bucky,” your features soften seeing the doubts in his eyes. “You are my boyfriend. There is no need to invite you.”

He looks hurt at your words. “I get it…”

“No, you don’t get it, snookums,” you step toward your boyfriend to grab his hand. “You are always invited because you are my boyfriend. If I say I want to have lunch with my family, this includes you, Bucky.”

“Oh…OH,” he looks at your hand holding his. “I didn’t know.”

“Well, now you know,” you grin at Bucky. “My snookums is always invited.”

Bucky feels his heart flutter. It’s the first time he doubted your feelings for him, and he feared he’d lost you. “What do we do now? Your parents will believe I’m unreliable.”

“I told them that you got sick,” you smile up at Bucky. “We can have dinner with them next week. I want to spend the day with my man.”

“Yeah?” He mirrors your smile.

“Yeah…”

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #biker!bucky barnes #biker!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader #biker au #bucky barnes x y/n #Snookums #biker!bucky x you

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demidokuriya · 2 days

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I recently heard that there is a theory going viral on Twitter that the enemy the heroes are having to fight now is not an AFO, but a parasite that is the progenitor of Quirks.

I can’t say that I believe in this theory, but I really like it, and if it were confirmed after a while, I would not be surprised. At the same time, I did pick up one interesting point from this theory, and that is the fact that, according to the author, the emergence of quirks is due to the fact that the corpse of AFO and Yoichi's mother was eaten by rats, the rats became carriers of the "disease", and then they spread her “disease” throughout the world.

Honestly, this makes so much sense that I'm surprised I didn't figure it out sooner. Horikoshi actually explained to us how the quirks came about, but we didn't notice it. Additionally, Horikoshi hinted at the origin of quirks back in the Overhaul arc, but that was so long ago that many simply couldn't remember it.

Apart from this, I would also like to remember Nezu. His name comes from the Japanese word nezumi, which means "rat". We don't know much about Nezu other than that he was once experimented on. His age is unknown.

I would like to note that ordinary rats do not live very long, only 2-3 years, but Nezu is clearly a long-liver. He was already the principal of U.A. when All Might and AFO fought and he knew about OFA for some reason before that battle.

I'm guessing that he was also the principal of U.A. when All Might was a student, although that was 40 years ago. I wouldn't be surprised if Nezu was one of the rats that spread the "disease" throughout the world, or is one of the descendants of those rats.

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emmitaaa4 · 14 hours

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“A woman is not written in braille, you don’t have to touch her to know her.”

I'm tearing up. The comment below is how Azriel would speak of Elain when xyz happens and he lets his heart pour out (and I have the evidence of course).

She doesn’t like change and loves to love the world around her.

“Beautiful.” / “After all of this, the world needs more gardens.”

“In celebrating the traditions, even through the presents, we honor those who fought for its very existence, for the peace this city now has.”

She loves so hard she hurts herself at times and doesn't let me pick up the pieces, even though I always do it anyway.

So Elain silently cried, the tears so unending that I wondered if it was some sign of her heart bleeding out. Some sliver of hope that had shattered today--that love would trump even a mating bond.

(...)

Azriel carried Elain down, my sister silent and unresponsive in his arms. (...) Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm (...) and led my sister toward the back doors into the garden, sunlight bathing them.

"What if" - I jerked my chin toward the window, to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden. “That is what she needs?

“I didn’t hear you.” Azriel stepped forward. “But you heard something else."

“Azriel’s hazel eyes churned as he studied my sister, her too-thin body.”

“I can help her,” said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose.

“A seer,” he said, more to himself than us. “The Cauldron made you a seer.” / It made sense, I supposed, that Azriel alone had listened to her. / Elain blinked and blinked, eyes clearing again. As if the understanding had freed her from whatever murky realm she’d been in.

“What about Elain?” / “I’m getting her back” “Are you hurt?” She shook her head, devouring the sight of him as if not quite believing it. “You came for me.”

Azriel still cradling Elain to his chest. (...) Rhys lunged for Azriel, taking Elain from him and gently setting my sister down. Azriel rasped, swaying on his feet, “We need Helion to get these chains off her.”

He gently took her hand and pressed the hilt of the legendary blade into it. “It will serve you well.” (...) I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife.

Az said nothing. No, he just moved toward her. “Sit. I’ll take care of it.”

“Wait,” Azriel said, nothing but command in his voice. (...) Azriel didn’t let go. “Wait until everyone is seated before eating.”

“I’d feel bad for the mice,” Azriel muttered. (...) earning a grateful smile from Elain. (...) the light that returned to Elain’s eyes.

“Because of the shit with Elain?” Azriel stilled. “What happened to Elain?” (...) A fight with Nesta. don’t bring it up,” he warned when Azriel’s eyes darkened. Cassian surveyed the shadows gathered around Az. “You all right?” His brother nodded. “Fine.” But shadows still swarmed him. Cassian knew it was a lie, but didn’t push it. Az would speak when he was ready”

Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike.

“We won’t allow any harm to come to Elain. Rhys warded her this morning, and we have eyes on her at all times.” “Eyes can be blinded,” Nesta said. “Not the ones under my command,” Azriel said with a soft menace. Nesta met his stare, knowing he was the only one aside from Feyre who could truly understand her hesitation.

She’s stubborn like a mule but as delicate as a flower, always sad but never beaten.

“It’s already ended badly. Now it’s just a matter of how we meet the consequences.”

“Why wouldn’t I be all right?” she asked, a smile lighting up her face. I’d seen those same smiles before, on my own damn face. / Elain, it seemed, was as sleepless as me.

“Shall I tend to my little garden forever? You can’t have it both ways. You cannot resent my decision to live a small, quiet life, while refusing to let me do anything greater.”

I love the way she understand what I'm trying to say without needing to hear me say it, when I can't seem to formulate anything at all.

Elain looked up at Azriel, their eyes meeting, his hand still lingering on the hilt of the blade.

Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them. Elain’s breath caught slightly.

He left the rest unspoken. (…) Elain's large brown eyes flickered, well aware of all that. Just as he knew she was well aware of why Azriel so rarely came to family dinners these days.

"Yes," Elain breathed, like she read the decision.

She's probably the best thing that's happened to me.

“It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. since you rub your temples so often.” (...) Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed. I’d never heard such a sound, deep and joyous. Elain smiled again, ducking her head. Azriel mastered himself enough to say, “Thank you.” I’d never seen his hazel eyes so bright, the hues of green amid the brown and gray like veins of emerald. “This will be invaluable.”

It was three by the time the others went to bed. Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room.

Azriel stood in the doorway, monitoring them. As if he’d heard Elain’s sharp laugh and wondered what had caused it.

Shadows darkened his eyes, full of enough pain that (...) she understood why he stood near the doorway, why he wouldn’t go near the fire. His secret to tell, never hers.

There she was. The faelights gilded Elain’s unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn.

A headache powder he kept on his nightstand at the HoW. Not to use, but just to look at. Which he'd done every night he'd slept there. Or attempted to sleep there.

He chuckled, unable to suppress the impulse. (...) Elain's mouth twitched into a smile (...) He offered a smile back.

His head went quiet.

There is lust. There is tension. But there is also so much more.

#my loves #wrote this with lana playing im not okay #elriel #elain archeron #azriel #pro elain #pro azriel #acowar #acofas #acosf

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coatedinhoney · 3 days

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City Girls

Months have passed and the twins are finally living out their dreams in the bustling city of SanMy. Determined to make it big and leave their respective marks on the world the girls worked hard to get an apartment in the Arts District. Will their coming-of-age story unfold like their wildest dreams?

Beginning | Next

Transcript and Generation Goals Under The Cut

Transcript

Amaya: I still can’t believe we live here now.

Kenya: Surreal huh?

Amaya: Like you said the world is our oyster.

Kenya: They ain’t ready for us twin.

Generation Goals

Kenya Reyes (Heir)

Traits - Self Assured, Green Fiend, High Confidence, Idea Person & Muse

Aspirations - Musical Genius - Completed - Creative Genius

Goals To Complete

1. Max Singing Skill

2. Max Two Instrument Skills

3. “Date” Three Sims Whilst A Teen

4. Graduate Highschool

5. Max Music Production Skill

6. Get Signed

7. Move To San Myshuno

7. Fall In Love With Your Boss

8. Move To Del Sol Valley

9. Adopt A Pet

10. Gain Fame

11. Have One or Two Kids

12. Accept A Job Offer

13. Catch Your Partner Cheating

14. Have A Messy Separation

15. Fall In Love For The Second Time

16. Max Job

17. Have More Kids

18. Complete Aspiration

Amaya Reyes

Traits - Outgoing, Goofball, High Self Esteem, Pack (Aspiration Trait), Alluring

Aspirations - Soulmate - Completed - Playtime Captian

Goals To Compete

1. Have A Boyfriend and go on dates

2. Graduate Highschool

3. Attend University Off Campus

4. Enjoy University Life

5. Max Writing Skill

6. Break Up With Boyfriend

7. Graduate University

8. Join The Writer Career

9. Become A Journalist

10. Fall In Love and Get Married

11. Publish A Book

12. Have Children

13. Retire

#this marks the start of generation 6 #the sims 4 #sims 4 simblr #ts4 simblr #sims 4 #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 legacy #ts4 edit #sims 4 story #ts4 legacy #ts4 #ts4cc #ts4 gameplay #the sims community #ts4 screenshots #ts4 city living #kenyareyes #amayareyes

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petrapalerno · 6 hours

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Submitting to the Alien Barbarian #12

Alien x fem reader, a dom/sub erotic short.

TW/CW: rough consensual sex, primal play, knotting, breeding, aliens, dominance/submission, blood play, spanking, pregnancy, overstimulation, anal play, gagging, violence and murder.

MASTER POST

The entrance to the hunting cave is nearly invisible. Golden vines twine over the leather door flap, nearly obscuring it from view.

Sweat drips off your brow. The humidity of the jungle is so different from the dusty deserts of this planet. You find it hard to believe these two eco systems exist so close to each other.

Drohako removes the saddle bag from Graysi and sets them near the rocky wall of the cave.

Pushing through the saffron colored brush, you notice the sweat on your arms mingling with the blood of the fallen alien attacker.

You took someone’s life, extinguishing it in a single act. A full fucking grown Volkroth warrior.

And he fucking deserved it.

You think about your life before, how you wouldn’t be able to do what you had just done.

But things are different now. You love an alien barbarian, you’re carrying his child, and you’ve run away from what little civilization exists on this planet.

You should feel worse about murdering someone, shouldn’t you?

Drohako’s hand caresses along the messy skin of your arm.

“Your first kill?” He questions, although you can tell that he already knows the answer when you nod. “You are strong, you protected your family—wear his blood with honor.”

Our family.

You push your way through the overgrowth on the door and into the cave.

As the leather flap snaps free from the grasping vines, dirt sprays and you cough, your lungs assaulted by the dust.

The hunting cave is even more primitive than you expected. Unlike where you’ve fled from, there are no comforts. No furs line the sleeping space, the fire pit is tiny, and a thick layer of dust coats everything.

“You don’t get to do much hunting, do you?” You ask with a sarcastic smile.

“Hunting seasons are short, especially in spawning years,” he shrugs, pushing past you.

Drohako removes the incubation pod from his satchel as if it was the most fragile thing in the world. His thick fingers struggling to hold the tech just barely bigger than a gallon of milk.

“Hard to think you were ever that small,” you sigh as you flop down and pat your slightly swollen belly. “I feel like I can’t even feel him in there, you know?”

A panicked look flashes across his purple face.

“I mean, he’s in there, but I thought it would feel different—like a parasite.” Your alien frowns, and you get that your choice of words has you sounding less than enthused.

“What I mean is, it doesn’t feel wrong—it feels natural, like it was meant to be.”

When you look back up at my mate’s face, you can see his gaze soften.

“It’s fate,” He tells you. “Come, the pod needs a blood sample to activate.”

He reaches his scarred hand out to you, pulling you to standing. When he taps a button along the incubation pod’s side, a robotic arm pops out.

“It’s strange Volkroth’s births are so high tech, aren’t it? Because, well,” You gesture broadly to your surroundings. The primitive cave isn’t really where you would expect the Volkroth to live after seeing this little space age orb of white metal and glass.

“We choose to live in the ways of our ancestors—but we’ve adapted to breed without female Volkroth, and it’s mostly thanks to this tech,” He keepings talking even after the little robot arm pokes your finger with a quickly appearing needle.

“Ouch!” you yelp, as Drohako grabs your hand to prevent it from recoiling from the machine.

“Still, it’ll be over in a second,” he mutters as he watches the collection tube meet the small droplet of blood welling on your fingertip. With a whoosh, the machine sucks the sanguine fluid away.

As the blood enters the pod, it glows with an orange light. The intensity pulsing like a heartbeat.

“Done. That wasn’t so bad, now was it my tiny warrior?” His face is filled with pride as he stares down at your still blood covered body.

“Well, no, but—“ he interrupts your words by sucking your finger into his mouth, his rough tongue licking the needle’s wound.

“I promise you pleasure earlier,” he growls as my finger drops from his lips. The sound of his voice is making your pussy quickly slicker, as if on his command.

When you feel his hand go lower, skirting the hem of your wrap. You grab his wrist.

“Stop.”

Maybe you’re still full of adrenaline from the attack, or maybe this feeling has always been under the surface–but you want to be in control for the first time in your life.

“Mate?” His body is frozen, maybe shocked by your command.

“I think I’d like to call the shots this time,” you whisper to your barbarian.

“That’s new,” Drohako cocks an eyebrow. The muscles of his body relax slightly, but his eyes bored into you with a new intensity. “So, what do you want?”

“I want you to listen, but don’t worry–you’ll enjoy yourself if you do. Will you be a good boy for me?”

His pupils dilate and he looks like he can taste colors as he looks at you with hooded eyes.

“If that’s what my mates wants, a good boy is what she’ll get.”

“I need something comfortable to lie down on,” you say with an unpracticed coolness that surprises you both.

Drohako swiftly steps past you, pushing the leather flap out of his way, as he grabs the saddle bags from outside. Once back indoors, he kicks some dead leaves and twigs away, clearing a spot on the dirt floor.

He looks at you with a pleased smile as he unrolls a few of the thick yellow furs from your former home.

“This will do.” You shrug off your makeshift clothing, already feeling one hundred percent better than before. There’s something so natural about wearing nothing at all around Drohako that makes your heart sing.

His gaze on your naked body is that of a predator’s, hungry and all-consuming. You lay down slowly, deliberately, spreading your legs so he can take in the view.

He inhales sharply and pushes the heel of his hand down over his loincloth, onto his quickly hardening bulge.

“Who said you could touch yourself?” You drawl as my finger traces up your slick lips. “I don’t think I gave you permission.”

“I thought this was supposed to be fun,” He scowls, clenching his fists at his side. You don’t let the fact that he’s still listening to you go unnoticed.

“It will be, because the anticipation is part of the pleasure.”

Whatever’s possessed you to be so bold, you love it. Could it be that letting yourself be used like you’ve always wanted has you finding some new confidence? Have you found my power through being submissive?

You rub small circles over your clit. The blood of the fallen male mixing with your own slick–Drohako’s breath catches as he watches you work.

“I want you to want me, to feel every pang of desire.”

You twist your nipple with your free hand, not even attempting to stifle the moan that falls from your lips.

“Can I touch you, if I can’t touch myself?” His voice is needier than you’ve ever heard it before.

“Are you uncomfortable? Does my having the control cause you this agony?” You ask him, dipping your fingers into my opening—thrusting deep. “Don’t you wish it was your cock plunging inside me?”

“Is torture your idea of fun? Does our Volkroth babe fill steel your heart as a barbarian?” Despite his suffering, he smiles. His eyes hold a menacing glint.

“Seeing you squirm is fucking delicious, a reward all in itself.” You pick up your pace, throbbing need ebbs through your core. “Ask me for what you want,” you moan.

Drohako licks his lips, stepping closer.

“I want to taste you,” he growls.

“Then crawl and beg me for the honor. Prove to me you want it.”

Drohako, the mighty alien warrior that he is, drops to his knees with a thud. He rakes his nails over the dirt floor, pushing his glorious ass high. Each scrape of his fingers over the ground sends shivers up my spine.

When he finally reaches you, he presses his lips against your trembling skin, worshipping every inch of you with fervent kisses. You moan in ecstasy as he continues to worship at the altar of your pleasure. His tongue laps up your honey, teetering you on the edge of bliss.

You're both consumed by our primal desires, oblivious to the world around you, fueled by an insatiable hunger for each other’s bodies.

“Make me come, mate,” you hiss as you buck your hips, threading your fingers through his coarse hair and wrapping around his horns.

Drohako probes his fingers into you, spreading you wide with his hands alone. When he sucks on your clit, your core pulses sharply and you shatter.

Your legs attempt the snap shut over his ears, but he pushes them open. His tongue is unrelenting.

“Stop!” your voice is hoarse as you yell.

Despite his history of loving your overstimulation, he does. With just one word from you, he immediately ceases his ministrations. He’s under your command, afterall.

“You’ve done such a good job, you deserve a reward—”

“Serving you, mate, is enough.” He pulls himself until his strong jaw rests on your stomach. His face glistens with your juices.

He brings his hand to either side of your hips, kissing the small swell on your stomach. He stares adoringly at the pooch, and the promise that lies within.

#monster fucker #monster romance #monster smut #monster lover #smut #terato #monsterfuqqer #aliens #alien romance #alien #Petra palerno #STTABshort #i love aliens #monster fuqqer #alien x human #alien x reader

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zzoguri · 3 days

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persist and resist (but still, fail) ➵ lee juyeon

lee juyeon x reader

all it takes is one phone call for you to realize what you could’ve had with juyeon

genre/warnings ➵ angst, almost lovers, long-distance but not-in-a-relationship, unspoken words/hidden signals, a lot of wondering of what could’ve been

word count ➵ 730 words

inspired by ➵ “the 1” by taylor swift, that one skype call in “past lives”

a/n ➵ very reminiscent of my upcoming jichang fic entitled “finger trapped (ripped to its seams)” but its taking a bit to pump out (and i'm very much in my feelings as we speak...) so bear with me and enjoy this drabble for now :33 do reblog and leave feedback!!

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist

it’s quiet uptown. as you smell the winter air, frozen kisses graze your cheeks. sounds of cars have been replaced with the buzzing of lamposts and flakes have taken raindrops’ role. on the snow-piled balcony, you hear the wood crackle behind you.

yet, warmth is stored in the voice on the other line.

“so, what’s it like there?” the rasp that accompanies juyeon’s words remind you of the time zone difference between you two. while it may be crack of dawn in korea, night has fallen at where you stand.

“you’ve asked that question how many times in this call.” a giggle leaves you. “you’re making me think that you never listen.”

a soft hum leaves him. “you know that’s not true.” your fingers grip on the blanket draped on your shoulders. “what are you up to?”

“damn, not even letting me answer the thousand questions you seem to have for me.”

“sorry,” he chuckles, “just never hear from you.”

for a moment, all you can do is sniffle.

“it’s quiet here. everyone’s off to see their families.” your hand reaches out to rail, writing the characters of his name on the snow, as you bask in the stillness of the town. “i like it like this.”

“like it like what?”

“when it’s not busy. it’s only during the winter time when you’ll barely hear a horn or chatter.” a smile makes its way to your lips. “kind of like when we’d sneak into school during the summer time.”

heat waves would do its best to tie you down then, draining you of any energy to enjoy the wonders of summer, but you and juyeon were drawn to adventures. while there would be trips to the mart to grab the familiar taste of chocolate popsicles or the playground you’ve bruised your knees at, the school seemed to call on your names. the empty hallways whispered the narratives of students who came before you two—you were certain that yours and juyeon’s story would be told, as well.

“god, i can’t believe we had so much time to waste then,” juyeon admits over the memory. only a hum leaves you. “i miss it.”

a beat passes.

“yeah, me too.” the whisper barely leaves you.

there’s a life in korea that you’ve lost—the quiet exchange of laughter during classes, the smell of fresh kkwabaegi fresh from the fryer, and the nights spent stargazing.

but in the life you have now—in the stillness of your room during midnights, the rush hours of your commute, the conservations you have with the locals—you can’t help but wonder, wonder, wonder.

would you be in a 9-to-5 job at a corporate workplace or performing at sold-out venues? would you wake up early in the morning to bake or would you sleep in the comfort of your own bed? or would you go back to school and dive into the niche topics you’ve always wanted to explore?

but would you live alone in a different part of korea or travel around the world with him? would you wake up to the smell of freshly-cooked pancakes or microwaved fried rice from the night before? or would he latch to your body that’s reached the highest degrees, or would you make him soup during flu season? (he’s always had a weak immune system. did that change?)

there’s a life in korea that you long for—and there’s a person that you’ve lost. if things were only different, maybe you’d have him for many orbits around the sun.

did he ever think of a life you two could’ve had?

“hey, i have to go,” you say.

“oh,” juyeon’s tone is laced with disappointment, “okay.”

for a moment, not a word is exchanged between you two.

“talk soon?” his question takes you by surprise.

you would’ve loved to agree—yes! i’ll make sure to come visit—but you only smile to yourself with held back tears.

“bye, juyeon.”

that was enough of an answer for him. “okay. bye.”

the call drops. the warmth that your phone held has disappeared. while it makes sense to retreat back into your flat, bask in the heat emitting from the fireplace and read the words of sylvia plath, you remain standing on the snow-piled balcony.

it didn’t matter what you two could’ve had. it didn’t matter if he wondered the same things.

but it could’ve been him—that’s all you know.

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#works of moni #deoboyznet #kflixnet #bjnet #k-labels #the boyz #the boyz x reader #lee juyeon x reader #lee juyeon imagines #lee juyeon angst #the boyz angst #the boyz imagines

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buttersteps · 2 years

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#women’s rights #can’t believe this is the world we live in now #activism #feminism #roe vs wade #roe versus wade #roe v wade #supreme court #scotus #politics #human rights #reproductive rights #american politics #america #healthcare #gun control #feminist #*posts

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nuttersincorporated · 5 months

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The Narrator wanted to found Omelas and the Contrarian would choose to walk away

There is a short story by Ursula K. Le Guin called ‘The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas’. You can read it here or listen to it here.

The basic summery is that Omelas is a wonderful city. People are happy, kind and intelligent. The arts and science are celebrated and people can pursue their passions. There are no kings, police or army because they aren’t needed.

However, for all this to work, one child is locked in a basement. They are frightened, abused and underfed. Everyone knows that the child is there and they all accept it. The child must suffer so that everyone else can be happy.

If the child leaves the basement or is ever shown any kindness at all, then the good fortune and happiness of everyone in Omelas ends. Omelas would become like any other city. Instead of one child suffering and everyone else being happy, most of the population would suffer so that – like in the real world – 1% of people could have their every whim satisfied.

Everyone in Omelas knows that the child is there. A lot of them go to see the child but even those that don’t know the child suffers for them to be happy.

Sometimes, someone in Omelas will go quiet for a few days before they leave Omelas forever. Where they go to no one knows, it is a place even less imaginable than Omelas.

Anyway, the point of all this is that the Narrator is trying to turn the universe into Omelas. One person has to suffer so that everyone else can be happy. Unlike the child in the original story, the Princess wouldn’t even have to suffer for very long. She would die and then everyone else would be saved.

I think the Contrarian would be one of the people that walk away from Omelas. He thinks everything is all fun and games and enjoys annoy people. However, the moment he realises that his actions have actual consequences and that the Princess is being hurt by them, he stops and wants to help.

I think, if he was in Omelas, since he couldn’t save the child, he would choose to leave rather than be part of the reason the child has to suffer. For the same reason, if he had to slay the Princess to ensure everyone else’s happiness or save her a damn everyone else, I think he’d choose to leave. Even if he can’t save her, he wouldn’t want to be one of the people she had to suffer for.

#slay the princess #slay the princess spoilers #spoilers #stp contrarian #stp narrator #The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas #Ursula K. Le Guin #It's a very good short story about the problems of Utilataranisum #The greatest good for the greatest number #Would you walk away?#We live in a world where almost all of us ARE the child suffering so that a few can benefit #But if things were reversed would you opt out and walk away so that you weren’t part of the reason someone had to suffer?#YOU can’t save the child but if everyone walks away then the child doesn’t have to suffer #Obviously that wouldn’t work in the world of Slat the Princess because only the Long Quiet gets to make the choice #But still #Unrelated but I always wondered if the child in the original story was real #The story repeatedly asks you to believe in Omelas #Before mentioning the child #Then asks if NOW you believe #Can outsiders only believe in Omelas if they think someone is suffering?

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