#it's not even that i hate all of her designs. I quite like a few of them

[just-a-little-anxious]

remember when Vivziepop was talking about mammon before his design was fully out and she was like "he's not gonna be like the other characters. He's gonna be ugly. he's gonna look different."

and then mammon looked like every other helluva boss character with the only difference being that he was fat, except he didn't even look fat. He just looked like an inflated balloon.

[dioll]

moonstruck ── park sunghoon

성훈 ・ reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ enemies to lovers fluff ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ physical touch kisses‎ profanity ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ wc ・ 915 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ enhypen ── click

leaning against the wall, whilst your friends are conversing with the boys they’ve just met.

you sigh out of boredom. why’d you even join them? you hate parties anyway.

“hey, are you good?” one of your friends ask, due to your quietness throughout the night.

“mhm, i’m just gonna use the restroom.” well, that’s a lie. you need to catch a breather after suffocating in a mansion full of people.

“should i come with you?” she asks, whilst she settles the half-empty glass on the island.

“it’s okay, you enjoy. i’ll be back.” you reply.

“alright then, be safe. message us if something happens.” she says in a stern voice, before returning to her conversation.

smiling at her, as you make your way up the spiral staircase, lights illuminating each step.

second floor, there’s some random people here, you continue up.

ah the third floor, not a single person in sight. perfect. some peace until your friends drag you back down.

the mansion is quite huge, why was everyone crowded on the first floor? whatever, that’s none of your concerns. you’re at peace now.

the roof is high, and adorned with an elegant design.

your pace is slow, just strolling down the long, broad hallway. you see a huge balcony with a full view of the moonlit sky. beautiful.

you stare down, looking at all the cars driving in and out of the driveway, watching each person enter the mansion. was it weird? probably, but it’s not like you had any ill intentions.

your thoughts are distracted when you see a familiar individual enter the yard, making their way to the entrance of the mansion. park sunghoon, the imbecile that interferes with you at any given chance. it’s as if he’s asking for a punch in the throat. he does everything to piss you off.

but he is undeniably attractive.

his eyes lock with yours, a shit-eating smirk that can be seen from the third floor of a mansion. oh lord, peace is not an option tonight.

your eyes remain stuck on eachother. you’ve never been the one to lose an eye-contact battle. unfortunately for him, jake startles him, resulting in him breaking eye contact.

cute, wait what?

a few minutes go by, your friends are probably looking for you, as you’re about to turn around, you see sunghoon walking to you.

sigh p2. what does he want now?

you pull out your phone

f/n : where are you? are you okay??

you : all good, i’m upstairs, just catching up with a friend

f/n : thank god, okay be safe

“didn’t know that your phone is more interesting than me..i’m a bit hurt” he says, as he stares at the sky.

“nice.” you reply, with no care whatsoever.

“you know.. i’m starting to think that you actually hate me, is there a problem between us?” he asks with a serious tone.

“ask yourself that, you’re always the one to start arguments. do you expect me to kiss your cheek everytime you piss me off?” you scoff at him.

“honestly, i’d love that.” he says as he stares at you, whilst he tilts his head.

“excuse me?” you take a step back.

“you know that i only like to trouble you because you’re absolutely adorable, when you’re worked up. i like you a lot, y/n. you’re super funny and your personality is attractive.. just like your looks.” he confesses, taking a step towards you.

“cute, but i have a boyfriend.”

lie #2. you hate boys.

“mhm, you’re cuter but i know you don’t have a boyfriend. you hate boys.” he says, as he bends down to your height, trying to read your expression.

“and what makes you think that i’ll accept you? are you a girl?” you reply, waiting for an answer.

“i’m a man, i could be your man.”

well that definitely caught you off guard. the red tint on your skin does not go unnoticed by sunghoon. you can feel all your pride exiting your body as he chuckles at your state.

“you’re even cuter when you’re flustered, i’ll keep doing this until you’re mine.” he says, caging you against the balcony.

shit, how do you get out of this? at this rate, you’ll explode because of him.

your gazes are stuck on one another. you’re at a loss of words. you’re not ready for him to tease you about this for the rest of your life.

as you ponder of ways to get back at him, he tilts his head again.

him and those head tilts, drives you insane.

you’re about to say something but your lips land against his cheek instead. what. did. you. do. why do you always act on your impulsive thoughts?

the hue of his face turns to the deepest shade of red, as he’s processing what happened.

to him, this is probably a dream come true.

you smirk at him, knowing that you won this time.

“what’s wrong, park? moonstruck?” you tease him, as he continues to trap you with his arms.

“moonstruck indeed.” were his last words before he pressed his lips against yours.

your arms wrapping around him, whilst his hands are firm on your waist. he whispers praises and compliments between kisses, completely melting you.

“you know, my friends would be so confused if they saw us together.” you giggle as your hands rest around his neck.

“true, but it’s just the two of us.” he says before diving into your lips again.

♡ ・ @flwrstqr @moknu @onlyjjong @jlheon @lcvclywon @jlheon @amouriu @jjunae @hyeinism @nishislcve @mioons @jongocat @bywons @jakesangel @wonsdoll @isoobie @sainns @suneng

[asidian]

One thing I haven't seen talked about is Crystal's character arc, and specifically the way the timing of it interacts with Charles' arc. They stumble over each other in the worst possible way en route to their respective character growth, and from a narrative perspective, it's absolutely genius.

I'm going to preface all this by saying: none of this is a criticism of Crystal. Part of what makes her such a dynamic, refreshing character is that you don't get to see women in fiction written the way she's been written. You don't get to see women with her flaws that aren't throw-away mean girls or villains. You especially don't get to see women with her traits who learn and grow and become better people. So yeah, I'm going to talk about Crystal's character flaws. No, this isn't Crystal hate. We love our girl in this house. Okay? Okay. Let's start.

Crystal's character arc, at its heart, is all about her learning to be a better person because she has good influences that love and support her for the first time.

When the show starts, Crystal is not a nice person. She's abrasive in a way that's specifically designed to push people away. She's used to getting her own way, and it shows. She's used to having no meaningful connections with anyone, and it shows. She's breathtakingly selfish, in the very literal sense of the definition. She is focused on her self. Her problems are front and center to her; everything is about what she needs, and what she wants, and how she's struggling.

Jenny calls her out very early on. In episode one, Crystal is complaining about the boys, and Jenny, for all her cynicism, strikes right at the heart of the problem. She tells Crystal, "Everybody is always thinking about themselves, all the time." People only care about their own problems. And she says, correctly, that that's what Crystal is doing, too.

This moment is a revelation for Crystal. For the first time, she considers what her behavior looks like from another person's perspective. As she says, she gets mad at herself over it, and that awareness allows her to do something selfless for the first time in the series. She takes a step back and insists that instead of focusing on her problems, they go to help a little girl. It's a big moment for her.

But importantly, she's not done growing as a character here. She's only just getting started.

On my first watch through, I didn't realize how often, over the next few episodes, Crystal redirects things to her problems during conversation, but it's quite a lot. She's still focused on herself – selfish, in that most literal definition of the word. The issues most important to her are her issues. She's starting to learn to think about other people, but she's not there yet. The process is still underway.

Which brings us to Charles.

Charles' arc is a different sort of self-reflection. He's terrified that he's a bad person the way his father was and the way the boys that killed him were.

During the course of the show, he gets systematically stripped of his confidence and made to feel helpless, and just like Crystal needs outside influences to help her reach a more stable place, Charles does, too. He desperately needs reassurance that he isn't everything he's afraid he is.

But my goodness, the timing in their arcs is such a trainwreck when you put them together, and it is brilliant.

Let's start with the Devlin House.

Crystal has some amazing character growth here. She displays genuine concern about Charles, makes an attempt at comforting him, and learns to work with Edwin even though she still doesn't particularly like him at this point.

Charles, meanwhile, is beginning to fall apart. He's just had the worst night of his afterlife. He's been viscerally reminded of how helpless he is. He couldn't stop the Devlins from being killed over and over, just like he couldn't stop his own father's abuse. He messed up his attempted rescue so badly that he was completely out of commission until the case was finished. He managed to help not one single thing. He made no impact at all. He couldn't help those girls any more than he was able to help himself, while he was still alive.

So they get back to the butcher shop, and what do we see? Monty immediately coopts Edwin. Niko doesn't know what's happened because she wasn't there and Charles has been all fake smiles with her. And Crystal goes off with Niko, leaving Charles to flounder on his own in the wake of everything. She's still learning how to support other people. She isn't there yet, and it's extremely on display in this moment.

Then we get the lighthouse episode, and they both get put through the wringer here. Crystal gets her hopes and expectations jerked around by the Night Nurse in the very worst way, and Charles gets hit with a whole pile full of trauma. All that helplessness wells to the forefront again. Combined with being forced to relive some of his worst memories and the desperation to keep Edwin safe from hell, Charles lets himself act on his anger for once.

And what does he get in the aftermath? Horror.

Everyone who cares about him is horrified by what he's done. Edwin goes so far as to call it extreme. They don't know the half of it, of course; they haven't seen what the Night Nurse just put him through. But in this moment Charles is at his absolute lowest, and all he sees is confirmation that he's exactly as terrible as he thinks he is.

That's why Charles shrugs off Edwin's attempt at comfort, here. When he needed to be able to do something to protect Edwin and also himself – when he needed to believe that he could be better than what his father always was – all he sees is the confirmation from the people he cares about most that when push came to shove, he really is a bad guy.

Then comes the aftermath. And this moment is such a brilliant, awful clash of both of their character arcs. It is so delightfully messy.

Because Charles starts to open up to Crystal here. He starts to lay himself bare, the way he ends up doing with Edwin in episode 5. He's on the verge of admitting something that he's been worried about for literal decades. He tells her, "I've been angry for such a long time."

And what does Crystal do? She's still in the midst of her own character growth. She's still struggling to support other people. She's still learning how to. In a lot of ways, though she's made progress already, she's still that selfish girl that Jenny called out in the very first episode.

And she shows it here it with the absolute worst possible timing. No sooner has Charles started to talk about what's bothering him than she cuts in with her own problems. She's tired of riddles and spirits and demons and not knowing who she is. And the look on Charles' face. The moment when he visibly sets aside his own problems, because Crystal doesn't need any more disasters on her plate? It's heartbreaking. You can actually track the subtle change in his expression there. The actor does a phenomenal job.

And then comes the kiss. And what spurs it? Crystal saying she needs something real.

This moment isn't about light-hearted attraction, the way the earlier flirting is. It's Charles setting aside what he needs – comfort and reassurance and a moment to talk through the things that have been tearing him apart – to give her what she says she wants. He can't even feel it. And Crystal isn't far enough along in her character growth here to realize how selfish she's being. Like Jenny said way back in episode one, she's only thinking about herself.

And then comes the absolute unmitigated disaster of episode 5.

Straight out the gate, Charles leans in for a kiss. From his perspective, they have something together; there's affection there. Charles "I think I'd miss kissing" Rowland, who has been starved for meaningful physical contact for thirty years, is not in a hurry to give this up.

But Crystal is fresh out of a nightmare where she conflates Charles with her abusive ex. She withdraws; she calls what they had a distraction. She cuts it off almost as soon as it's started, so focused on her own worries here that she misses how damn fake Charles' smile is, to cover up that he's coming to pieces.

To be clear, she's absolutely not in the wrong here. It is 1000% her prerogative not to jump into a relationship again while she's still struggling to work through what happened with David. But the arc of her narrative is still early enough that she does it all without so much as the awareness that her focus on her own issues has hurt Charles terribly.

And then the episode really kicks off, and both of them are in shambles in very different ways.

Crystal is projecting her issues with David onto Charles. She has a lot of history, and David seems as though he's exactly the right sort of toxic to leave lasting a lasting impact. But Charles hasn't done anything to deserve her assumptions, and he takes the brunt of her temper here and throughout the episode.

Charles is desperately projecting onto the dead jocks. He very badly wants them to be good guys, because he sees himself in them and he needs himself to be a good guy. He snipes back at Crystal for the very first time in this episode, and he does it in the worst way possible, accidentally prodding her where it will do the most damage.

They're both hurting. They both say some truly painful things to one another.

She does not need to hear that she has unsorted hangups about David still plaguing her while she's unable to move past them. He desperately does not need anyone to tell him that he has rage issues while he's still struggling to think of himself as a decent person.

They apologize, in the end. They start to move past it.

But it's telling that Charles doesn't try to open up to Crystal again. He goes to Edwin instead, even though Edwin is the one who called his actions regarding the Night Nurse extreme. He gets the reassurance he needs so badly; he gets the connection he was looking for with Crystal from Edwin, instead. (I have a lot of thoughts on why Charles initially tries to open up to Crystal so quickly, but it is very much an aside, and this is already extremely long, so it will have to wait for another write-up.)

But the important thing here is, Edwin is the one to offer Charles what he needs to overcome the self-doubt eating him alive. Edwin provides the physical affection Charles was seeking in the form of that long-overdue hug. Edwin is the one who's able to reaffirm for him that he's not just a good guy, he's the best person Edwin knows.

And for all intents and purposes, Charles' major character arc ends here.

Charles has a few last little moments to go on the path to rebuilding his own self-image, after this, but for the most part his concerns have been resolved. He saves Crystal in episode 6 and Edwin in episode 7, proving to himself that he's able to make a difference in the face of overwhelming odds. He's not helpless, no matter what the Night Nurse told him; he can be a force for good in the world. By the end of the series, his crisis of self-doubt seems to have been largely overcome.

But it's the conversation with Edwin at the end of episode 5 that really allows him to work through his most pressing issues. Edwin is there to help support him when he stumbles. Edwin provides him the comfort he was looking for while Crystal was too worried about her own problems to notice how badly he needed the help.

Crystal, meanwhile, still has a ways to go after episode 5. The last three episodes are where she does her most important character growth.

In episode 6, she learns some hard lessons about keeping secrets and letting people help and appreciate you even when you can't offer them anything in return. And Charles, importantly, is there for her every step of the way. He consistently offers her physical and emotional support. He models for her, in a very real way, what it looks like to have someone prop you up when you need the help.

And in turn, Crystal steps in to save the boys. She's the big damn hero at the end of this episode.

The breakthrough continues into episode 7. She's so intent on helping to get Edwin out of hell that she literally goes to face her own demons, not for herself for once – not for her own purposes or needs or wants – but because she wants to help someone else.

And episode 8, at long last, brings her to the culmination of her character arc.

Crystal is at her absolute lowest here. Her family, the people who were supposed to love her unconditionally, didn't even realize she was gone. Her precious memories, that she's spent the entire series trying to regain, have showed her that she's not the person she hoped she would be. She's overwhelmed enough that she means to flee, to cut herself off from her new friends entirely.

Then the boys get kidnapped. And just like that, she makes up her mind.

For the first time since the start of the series, she sets aside her most important issues in order to let what other people need take precedence. She disregards all of her own personal concerns and focuses instead on others. She's finally stepped out of those selfish impulses that Jenny calls her out on, all the way back in the first episode. She's finally learned how to support other people when they need it.

Crystal has finally figured out how to be there for others, despite having troubles of her own.

It's a lovely arc, and it's beautifully done.

Charles' is just as touching.

And god damn, but it was a brilliant narrative choice to have their character arcs line up in exactly the wrong way.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Can you do Conrad with ‘’Is that my shirt?’’

This was the only gif I could find with this shirt...

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

It had been thirty minutes since you, Taylor, and Belly settled in front of the TV, yet the three of you couldn't come to a unanimous decision on which movie to watch. Well, truth be told, the indecision was mainly between you and Taylor. Belly was happily munching on popcorn, seemingly unfazed by the movie debate.

‘’Mamma Mia,’’ Taylor exclaimed, advocating for the musical movie choice once again.

However, you were quite tired of musicals and Taylor's less-than-perfect singing renditions, especially after enduring La La Land the night before. 

You shook your head. ‘’No, let’s watch 10 Things I hate about you.’’ 

It was one of your favorite movies. You weren’t a huge fan of rom-coms, but the romance was not too cheesy and the soundtrack was immaculate. Kat’s character was also iconic. You’ll never get tired of watching it.

But Taylor persisted, insisting that Mamma Mia would be a perfect summer movie. She looked to Belly for support and the look on Belly’s face told you you were about to lose this debate.

‘’I haven’t watched Mamma Mia in a long time…’’ 

Feeling somewhat defeated, you let out a sigh, realizing you were outvoted. ‘’Mamma Mia it is then,’’ you reluctantly agreed.

Taylor happily set up the movie, grinning and singing along to all of the songs. 

You were half way through it when the front door opened and the boys returned from their party, making a lot of noises as always. 

‘’Seriously, can you guys keep it down? We're trying to watch a movie here,’’ Taylor scolded them, clearly irritated by their untimely return.

‘’What movie?’’ Steven asked, making his way into the living room, seemingly eager to pester Taylor further.

‘’Oh, is that Mamma Mia?’’ Jeremiah’s face lit up, going off and belting one of the songs as he poured himself a glass of milk in the kitchen. 

You couldn't help but laugh at Jeremiah's enthusiasm. He truly was the life of the party. 

‘’It’s girls only, get out,’’ Taylor asserted, determined to keep their movie time uninterrupted.

‘’I want to watch it too,’’ Steven and Jeremiah protested, plopping themselves on the couch next to Belly and attempting to snatch the popcorn bowl from her.

‘’Absolutely not,’’ Belly retorted, holding onto the popcorn tightly, not willing to share.

Steven's attempt to mockingly tease her was met with a sharp comeback from Taylor. ‘’Did you grow tits while you were at the party, Steven?’’ 

Everyone burst into laughter at Taylor’s witty remark, even Conrad who just entered the living room, walking over to the other end of the couch where you were sitting. 

He sat on the length of the chaise, stroking your bare legs as he leaned in for a quick kiss. 

‘’Did you have fun with the boys?’’ you asked, your attention no longer on the movie.

Conrad shrugged. Being the designated driver sucked…and so did that party. No wonder they came home so early. He would have prefered to stay here and hang out with you, but you had already made plans with the girls. 

You stretched and laid your legs over his lap, settling comfortably into the couch. Conrad shook his head, but didn’t say anything. He liked the weight of your legs over his, the casual intimacy of it. 

Your attention was brought back to your friends when Jeremiah and Taylor began dueting ‘Lay all your love on me’ as if they were part of the movie. Taylor still couldn’t sing, but Jeremiah wasn’t too bad. You smiled at them, amused by their antics, and Conrad smiled back at you, his eyes full of affection as his fingers traced gentle patterns on your skin. 

A few scenes later, his attention was drawn to the navy Cousins rowing shirt you were wearing, and he raised an amused eyebrow. ‘’Is that my shirt?’’ he inquired with a grin, realizing it belonged to him.

You hummed. It was slightly oversized on you, but incredibly comfortable. ‘’We went swimming and I wanted something comfortable to wear after.’’ And it smelled like him. ‘’I hope you don’t mind.’’ 

Conrad shook his head. ‘’It looks good on you.’’

—

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[cupids-chamber]

— THE CONCUBINE GAME !! | chapter one . . . The first chapter, where you'll be able to catch a climpse of the inner dynamics between the emperor's y/n's secretary and their personal guard, a small entry and brief taste of what's to come, while learning a bit more about our beloved emperor and their staff . . .

— Themes ; Harem / historical au , Twisted wonderland , multiple characters x reader , royalty au , includes rsa + yuuka/yuuken. ♡

The wind was howling, the pitter patter sound of rain could be heard throughout the grand walls of the palace. The sound of heels clicking urgently on the wooden floors, echoing through the empty halls, as Yuuken rushed his way through to the emperor's chambers. It was late, yet he’d been overworked all week preparing the palace for the arrival of certain selected members of the Royal Harem, some were particularly demanding with the way they wanted things sorted out and Yuuken prided himself on never failing to impress. 

He banged on the door rather aggressively, “Your majesty, I have certain design plans I need you to finalize before Prince Leona’s arrival, and the first few concubines enter the palace, we don’t have much time!”, he yelled out trying to get the emperor’s attention, it was already late into the night and the palace staff were working overtime meeting every demand that they were given. 

Yuuken flinched feeling something touch his shoulder, and right before he could move back and attack, he heard an all too familiar voice—”Don’t bother trying to get their attention, Y/n’s at a meeting”—Yuuka spoke, a small grin on her face while she watched Yuuken try and collect himself, “This late?”, he asked confused, “also please try and address them by proper titles in public”; Yuuka shrugged in response, pausing for a moment before she spoke up once more, “I’d like to keep things the way it is, and you should probably take a break because they’re not coming out of the room at all, it’s something about politics . . . I wasn’t really paying attention”. 

Yuuken sighed, slumping his shoulders as he leaned onto the door of the Emperor's chamber, “I-i . .  just want everything to be perfect, everything’s been so . . hectic for their majes—y/n and I just really want to provide some stability, you know?”, he said softly, letting his exhaustion take over for a moment and Yuuka’s expression softened, “Hey—you’re doing great, there's a reason y/n gave you full creative liberty”, she ruffled his hair giving him a genuine smile, “don’t push yourself too hard alright? None of us are expecting you to be perfect, not even y/n . .” she finished, as Yuuken closed his eyes and whispered a small, “I know . . .”

Setting: Meeting room Location: The west wing. Time: 11:36pm 

You fiddle with your fingers, trying to shift the jewelry that you were covered in, in an attempt to feel more comfortable with the weight that the jewels provided, holding you down . . , as another argument ensues between the nobles, these past few days have felt like a choir, in fact most of the months since you ascended have felt terrible, nothings been exciting—from inheriting an empire doomed to fail, to trying to pick up the scraps of what was left of your fathers reckless decisions and fixing it into something at least palatable, the pressure of everything has left you in a bottomless pit, you needed freedom a refreshing start—something you lost—when you inherited the throne . . . 

“—Ah, your majesty?”, one of the nobles spoke up, and you bit your lip, how you hated that title, the moment you inherited this role, your friendships haven’t quite been the same, everyone who you’ve trusted in the past, have now become just another subject, trust is no longer something you earn, as loyalty and trust is to be expected when the crown is on your head.

Setting: Inner Cold Palace Garden Location: Rundown Gazebo Time: 12:46am 

"—and they never thanked me'', Yuuken hiccuped out, words slurring due to his alcohol intake, he waved the half finished bottle of some form of expensive imported wine in his hands, swinging it around dramatically; Yuuka chuckled, taking a sip from her glass as she looked around at the scenery of the garden—it used to be much prettier and well taken care of, way back before the previous emperor—y/n’s father—went haywire. . . 

"Hey Yuuken, remember when we used to play together here?" she asked without thinking, meeting his eyes for a brief moment all the while Yuuken took another big gulp from his wine bottle . . and then he spoke, "Yeah—you and y/n pushed me into the lake, I still hate the water", he slurred over his words slightly and Yuuka chuckled in response, if only things could've stayed as simple, but now Y/n didn't even have the time to maintain the garden where they're friendship once first blossomed, Yuuka sighed, leaning her head down on the table—which had seen better days— . .  the same could be said about their relationship with y/n themselves . . 

Masterlist | Introductions (being reworked) | Next chapter

♡. Synposis ; After many months of persuading, the emperor, Y/N L/N had finally agreed to take in a select few concubines and consorts—not an official partner.. but concubines. This caused an uproar in court; however the emperor promised to choose an official partner; amongst the crowd of concubines and consorts.. Who will the emperor choose?

— taglist ♡ (open) : . . tumblr is not letting me mention over 5 people per post, and the staff won't do anything about it, so I recommend just joining my server and picking out the new chapter ping role as it makes things easier for me.

© cupids-chamber, do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation.

[sizzleissues]

Its May.

Okay so this is in the same AU I had last year its just changed and evolved while also being the exact same. Except now I have 15,000 words of it written, like 7,000 words of planning and lore and hours upon hours of research that I will be pointedly ignoring. Will be posting more stuff this month about the AU and my hopes and dreams for it

Also slight art improvement check? I’ll put their original mermaid designs below the cut.

It’s Marinette as a mermaid and … its not Adrien or Chat Noir but a third worse thing (Catwalker but in the purest manifestation of it being a curse and not who he wants to be) I will be making designs for mer!Ladybug, and mer!Adrien as its own thing later on.

Okay if you want to indulge me look below the cut

Old mermaid designs first. I am going to be talking about my design thoughts, thoughts and ramblings about this AU and what I’ve been up to. You have been warned

As you can see, some things have changed but neither design I hated, I just wanted to go further with it.

My brain is quite specific about mermaids and how I want them to generally look. I wanted to distinguish biological merfolk from transformed humans by having them being anatomically different. So Adrien has a vertical tail instead which is also way faster underwater. His transformation is quite distressing for him and very chaotic. Of course when he accepts it he’s not so raggedy.

Marinette similarly avoids her life as a mermaid by becoming human and I wanted her mermaid design to hint toward her fascination with humans. She wears a top she fashioned from human fabric she found in a sunken merchant vessel. In general all other merfolk either forgo clothes or wear things fashioned from materials available to them. There’s deep fear of humans and human things so even though human clothes are available to them (off dead bodies but…. Whatever) they choose to difference themselves as much as possible. The same taboos don’t exist for them and their bodies are already adapted from the temperature of their environment. Adrien has stray bits of netting and seaweed on him because he’s not exactly the best at controlling his speed and often crash’s through fishing nets and patches of seaweed resulting in stuff being caught on him.

A lot of their designs are still being worked but I’ve definitely pushed them the right direction!

On to the AU. You might have seem me cryptically talk about something I’m writing the past few weeks. This is because it’s been in my brain since last May and been on and off writing it since then. I decided I’d talk about it once May came back around but and then when I finished writing it, start posting sneak peaks and more spoilery art until it was fully edited and I felt confident in it to post with an aim for it to finish posting once May rolled around again. Oh god.

It’s set in the late 1700s in a fictional version of France that’s actually fragmented over a bunch of islands. I have done more fashion research than I ever thought I’d do and in the end we will still be taking creative license but know I do know what they actually wore! I ALSO did a butt tonne of research about sailing ships and turns out they are super complicated and now I know too much and yet too little still about them. It should be super fun and action packed if I can manage. Have some really good scenes already in my head I know you’ll love. We’re already three ships battle deep and I’ve only written four chapters. (It chills out for a bit after that)

This is entirely self-indulgent by the way. I’m writing this for me, you guys are just a bonus. I literally don’t care as long as it satiates my rabid need for the fic that only lives in my brain at the moment. Saying that, I do want to put my best foot forward.

The next thing I will be posting for this is their human forms and more blabblerings about that. For I am insane and all.

[jacevelaryonswife]

Supermassive Black Hole

A duo project changes some perceptions about your classmate

pairing: Michael Gavey x fem!reader

warnings: smut, period tipical misoginy (2006 guys), loss of virginity, english is not my first language.

word count: 3,297

ewanverse masterlist

When a firm knock came from the door, a name automatically entered your mind.

Gavey.

Michael Gavey.

You imagined that he would come to your meeting eventually, you actually longed to, although you didn't admit it. That idiot deserved to be put in his proper place — which was necessarily below you.

It had all started when a duo project was designated by draw earlier that day, and for both luck and bad luck your partner was the awkward genius, and difficult to deal with Michael Gavey.

There was no shortage of adjectives to be used for the unstable dirty blonde, which was truly fascinating. He intrigued you with his sharp intellect and his eccentric personality to the same extent that he repelled you with his peculiar and almost aggressive way. He was quite a figure, although you didn't allow yourself to think much about it.

It was also not a mystery that he was a true Norman No Mates, which wasn’t difficult to understand since his social skills were disastrous. The memory of him screaming at Oliver Quick in O Week never left your mind, especially the sudden change of attitude when he lowered his head and responded to the sum that Felix's pet (as your friends called him) made. You watched the whole situation closely, with a lot of curiosity, since your tables were close.

After that, whenever he entered an environment, you wondered what he would do next. You never knew what to expect from Gavey.

He started fervent debates during classes, demonstrating unparalleled intelligence and self-confidence, in addition to a slight arrogance that made him look strangely hot. Obviously a dispute of nervous male egos originated from these discussions, which made you watch with veiled fun and irritation while remaining silent. You admired the way his brain worked for math, but you didn't understand how he could be so bad at dealing with other people.

Because of this, you chose to keep a considerable distance from the horizon of events that involved Michael and his complexity, and for a long time this worked perfectly well. Until that damn moment.

Feeling humiliated by the way that insolent worm acted when trying to take responsibility for the whole activity for yourself, as if you were incompetent and incapable, you immediately confronted him about such behavior when he went to your meeting at the end of the class while you collected your material.

"Excuse me?" You asked.

"I'll finish this by Saturday, no need to worry," he repeated condescendingly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Do you think I won't participate? Or did you just choose to pretend that I don't exist?" You asked with your eyebrows furrowed, posture becoming more imposing.

He remained silent for a short moment, seeming to analyze the situation (or the best answer to it, you couldn't tell). He wasn't used to being so reluctant to say what he thought, so it was a surprise to see him using time to devise something.

"I don't like working in group, I thought it would be faster if I did everything," he looked down quickly, running away from your gaze.

"I also don't like working with other people and I didn't even think about excluding you," you replied.

“Of course you don't.” There it was. The veiled arrogance that you so hated, present in most of your classmates.

Few were your STEM classmates, since your class was mostly composed of resentful boys who did not know how to deal with a woman without seeing her as a less intelligent object. Luckily not everyone was like that and you managed to put together a really cool group.

When all you did was send a cold and angry look, Michael cleared his throat and tried to speak again, but you cut him off impatiently. "When you're less asshole look for me again, I think you have my Myspace."

Who did that little shit think it was to treat you like that? 'Of course you don't' He was so fucking pretentious! And that's because he almost couldn't keep eye contact for a long time.

Pathetic.

That skinny nerd tormented your thoughts for the rest of the afternoon and served as gossip between your friends. Predictable. The way he acted was not very different from what you imagined about his annoying self-sufficiency. And even so, there he was, stopping in front of your door (more nerdy than ever) with his laptop and notebook in hand, wearing a blue button striped shirt, black belt and cream pants. He had a terrible taste in clothes, although they totally reflected his personality, he was curious.

“I'd like to apologize for my behavior earlier, it wasn't cool,” he started as soon as you leaned carelessly against the door.

Interesting.

You considered it for a moment, looking at him before turning his back and clearing the way for him to enter your space. "It wasn't that hard, was it?" You pulled a chair for him and threw yourself dramatically on the bed before sitting down to face him, already well established and looking closely at your figure. "So... I assume you've already thought about the structure of the project."

Of course he had thought.

He opened the laptop and exposed his idea while showing some calculations in his notebook, and you made an effort to pay attention to what was said and what was sketched. Obviously his idea was good, great actually, incredibly structured and cohesive with what the professor wanted. But you also had some ideas and would like them to be taken into account, telling you what you had planned. Surprisingly, he showed to consider your suggestions, even praising them — you knew they were good, but not that his ego allowed you to visualize this. You suggested a division of parts that would be meticulously checked in a future meeting.

"As you have already started, I thought about staying with the second part, what do you think?" You asked.

"It's okay, I intend to finish tomorrow maybe, I'll forward some references by email to you."

“Sure.” It was all very bureaucratic and direct. You sneaked up to look at his laptop screen before looking at what he was typing. "I have some of these books here, but I'll look for the others."

And without realizing it, you got into a big problem.

The freshness that radiated from him flooded your senses gradually, looking too long at his neck and jaw...

He had such beautiful features and aquiline dirty blonde hair that it looked so soft. And those hands... those long fingers... no, no, no and no. You (your body) couldn't be heating up to Michael Gavey.

But it's been a while since some fun... and you were at a suggestive time of the month. Maybe... just maybe... It wasn't a bad idea. As you returned to sitting on the bed, specifically next to where his chair was, you analyzed him as he typed the references in the email. He was not bad looking, no, quite the opposite in fact.

He was handsome, really handsome. And you wanted him. You wanted Michael Gavey.

You wanted to fuck him.

Fuck that attitude.

But how? How would you approach that nervous nerd?

Your mind struggled to develop an effective approach. You didn't want to waste time, not with the heat that spread high between your legs. You just waited for him to send the damn email and close the laptop. "Do you want anything to drink?"

“I'm good. I think we ended up here, I'll try to finish my part quickly," he looked at the notebook that was on the pillow, which you anticipated to pick up and deliver it, standing up in a false farewell.

"Sure," and as soon as Michael got up with the notebook and laptop, you held his arms, gently removing the objects while placing them on your study table. "But I don't think you should go now," you used without a more seductive tone while holding his shoulders.

"What are you doing?" He asked still, tense, looking directly into your eyes.

“Are you dating someone?” You asked softly, getting closer, leaning your breasts against his chest.

"No, I'm not," he answered the obvious, but you wanted to hear the obvious with all the lyrics.

Stretching a short distance from his lips, you asked: "So can I kiss you?"

That same look seen earlier was present again, as if his mind worked hard to find a solution to the problem presented. His mouth opened minimally when he took a deep breath, this time his gaze fell on your lips. "Why do you want to kiss me?"

"Because I fucking want it."

And then you collided your lips with his in a demanding kiss that took a long time to be reciprocated, but when it was... oh boy. Michael held your waist and tried to keep up with your rhythm. He wasn’t so experienced, but his lips were soft and pleasant against yours, kissing you with so much enthusiasm that it made you dizzy.

It made you both dizzy.

He couldn't believe was happening — and that it was happening to you. You... gorgeous, sexy and intelligent. You with a nice and phenomenal ass, who he believed would never look at him twice. You, who kissed him on the tongue and moved his hands to your chest and ass and smoothed the back of his neck and massaged his shoulder. He'd never been kissed like that before. Had never touched a girl like that.

What the fuck was going on?

With the deepening of the kiss you felt a hardness to press against your belly, inhibiting a conscious smile while Michael struggled between apologizing or pretending that it was not happening. Fortunately, you didn't intend to let that be ignored. Your hand slid from the nape of his neck until it reached the increasing bulge, gently squeezing over his pants, making him moan against your lips. You squeezed again before breaking the kiss.

"I don’t wanna just kiss tonight."

Fuck. He couldn't believe what was going on.

He felt that he would cum right there if your hand kept rubbing his cock.

"Are you sure?" He asked uncertainty, still not convinced that you really wanted him that way. It was so fucking sudden, one minute he was collecting his things to leave and the next he was kissing you.

"All the certainty in the world, and you?" You sang against his lips.

"I-" that would be fucking embarrassing, you would laugh at him, "I want to but- I never-"

Oh. It wasn’t different from what you expected.

"It's okay, seriously, there's no reason to worry about it."

“... are you fucking me or something?” He asked weakly, looking at your beautiful face with lust, seriousness and insecurity. You've never seen him so vulnerable.

"Of course not, I want you Michael, I want that, but if you feel you're not comfortable we don't n-"

"I want that."

“Are you sure?”

“I'm fucking sure.”

He felt a chain of confidence run through his body and leaned over to kiss you. You wasted no time unbuttoning his shirt, groping his newly exposed soft torso. Michael almost sighed when receiving your soft touch, pulling the blouse out of your body and coming across exposed and already hardened breasts.

Fuck.

He almost moaned. They were the first tits he saw in person, it was more than exciting. He held them immediately, massaging, squeezing, experiencing...

"Not like that," you held his hands gently.

"Sorry, I never-"

“It's okay.”

Your hands landed on the belt and unbuttoned it, continuing to unbutton the pants that were urgently removed by him while you discarded your own and hovered only in panties, watching him get rid of the shoes as well. Michael had little time to get used to your half-naked figure, since with a mischievous smile, you slowly lowered your panties and left it accumulated on the floor. He felt his neck and face burn and cock pulse with your vision, contemplating for too long.

You touched him over his black underwear, feeling him hard and big, making him moan.

"I won't last long if you keep fucking touching me like that," he took a deep breath, closing his eyes.

"So why haven't you taken that off yet?" You shook his head, teasing him, watching him almost tear off his underwear and show off his cock in all splendor. He was packing, bigger than you expected, all pink, beautiful and anxious. “You have such a nice body,” you kissed him lazily, anticipation thrumming through you.

Michael felt himself in the clouds with your body pressed to his without any layer of fabric, but a big wave of anxiety hit him when you walked away to get a condom before gently guiding him to bed. “Relax, let me take control,” no foreplay would be necessary when you were already wet enough to receive it. "Take a deep breath and calm down, it's quite intense, try to be distracted by something else," you adjusted the condom to its length and saw it almost shake. That boy wouldn't last a minute.

He followed your instructions and concentrated as much as possible not to cum fast, holding firmly on your hips but nothing prepared him for your wet and hot folds.

Fuck, not even the best handjobs compare to your tight pussy going down on his cock. He moaned loudly when you rested against his groin, staring at where your bodies connected.

You bit your lips and closed your eyes, feeling deliciously full. He was bigger than average and had a delicious thickness that you would love to squeeze on your walls just to see him have a spasm, but I knew it would be too much for the beginning.

"When you want me to move, just say it."

Oh no, no! He was sure he would end up there even if you moved. "Don't move yet," he replied quickly, "Fuck," he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

It was terribly satisfying to see him all vulnerable and red, without the usual arrogance and weirdness, and even better to have him inside you (albeit for a short time presumably). He thought about all the things he heard about sex all his life in those long seconds, filtering out what seemed more credible and useful. Think of something less sexy. It was fucking hard.

“Move.”

“Enjoy baby,” you slid gently up, resting your hands on his chest as you started an experimental and slow rhythm. “Mmm.”

So damn good.

Your juices made the movements easy and smooth, leaving him breathless whenever he was balls deep. The friction generated by the constancy of the movements made you two moan and the tightness on your waist increased. He was a fucking vision with disheveled hair, half-open mouth and crooked glasses, all docile while he was fucked dumb. The feeling of power over such an intelligent man was as exciting as sex, causing a presumptuous smile on your lips when you leaned over to kiss his milky neck, rubbing your body against his.

“Are you enjoying it?” You purred against his skin, kissing him superficially on the lips.

He was in the fucking clouds. And you knew that. Little shit.

He wrapped your body to move his hips against yours. He couldn't hold it anymore, he needed to cum. "I won't last long."

“It's okay, baby.”

Your tits jumped when you started riding it hard at a terrifying pace. He closed his eyes and felt his balls weigh every time you sat on his cock, holding your waist, your tits, your ass, everything you could while you allowed it.

"Fuck- I'm-" he moaned loudly and released his load on the condom, feeling a mind-blowing pleasure that paralyzed his senses and one pulled into a supermassive black hole. A thin layer of sweat covered his body, illuminating the reddish tone that covered it.

So beautiful.

Coming out of the top, you lay comfortably next to him, supporting a part of your peso on his chest while watching him struggling to stabilize his breathing. He still couldn't believe that it had finally happened, and especially with a girl like you.

“Are you here?” You asked after a while with a fun smile, although warm between his legs. He didn't know if he was, but he replied with a panting 'yes'. "Well, because we're not done yet."

What?

“What?” He asked.

“Sex is a two-way street baby, and I haven't come yet,” you purred softly against his ear, biting the lobe.

"I don't know when I'm going to get hard again," he confessed. Well, his brain was working again.

"You don't have these long fingers for nothing, Michael, and if you want it again you'll fuck me with them."

As much as he was affected by a sudden one, his sharp senses were awakened in the implication of a next time. He faithfully believed that hard work would lead him to maximum success in his life, he could not imagine otherwise in this situation. "How should I do that?"

You purred, taking his right hand and guiding it to your wet center. "Always start here if you want to make a girl cum," you circled your bud with his fingers, enjoying the delicious feeling, showing him the place before going down to your entrance. "Start with one finger, then add another."

He followed your instructions firmly, sticking a long finger and pumping slowly. "Not so slow," you bit your lower lip, somewhat impatiently waiting for the development of a slow orgasm. You needed to cum hard. Taking his hand, you held your middle finger and attached it to your index finger. “Faster.”

And although inexperienced and a little strong sometimes, his fingers felt fucking good on your walls, reaching the sweet point that made your feet's fingers curl. “Keep going, mm.”

"Can I kiss you?"

“Yes.”

Michael collided his lips on yours in a kiss full of tongue and teeth, staying on top while he fucked you with his fingers. He was hypnotized by the sounds you were making, by the warmth of your body, by the taste of your mouth...

“I'm close!”

You couldn't believe that that sleeky nerd of all people was giving you such pleasure.

Michael got up abruptly and used the hand that held his weight to circle your clitoris, making your eyes close with the construction of an abrasive orgasm. He pumped faster, watching your body squirm and your back arch.

“Michael- I'm gonna-" your whole body trembled when the coil burst and a hot pleasure flooded your senses, holding the sheets and closing your legs with the strong spasms.

It was the hottest thing he'd ever seen in his life. And he did that. He made you cum. Michael was still very stunned with everything that happened, watching your figure before being pulled to lie next to you. You rested your head on his chest with a satisfied and tired smile, giving light kisses on his skin, relaxed with the post-orgasm fog.

“Did you like it?” You asked to break the ice.

"You've already asked better questions," he joked with a hoarse laugh, "Of course I fucking liked it."

“Mmm, I like to make sure,” you replied, facing his beautiful blue eyes behind the slightly blurred lenses.

Having your body so close (and with everything that happened) Michael felt his cock contract and a new electric current run through his body. "So there's going to be a next time?"

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taglists

general: @succnfuccubus @fan-goddess @kravitzwhore @partypoison00

ewanverse: @aemonds-fire @partypoison00 @schniiipsel @fan-goddess @arcielee

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thank you smm @solisarium for the help with this ❤️

[putellasawfc]

hii.. i just read ur “mapi as a girlfriend is the type to” fic which i absolutely adore, could write something to do with reader actually letting mapi tattoo her please 💗

just something short & sweet whilst i get back into the hang of writing again! if anyone wants a pt2 where mapi actually does the tattoo let me know :)

-

“how many of these did you do?” you breathed, in a state of awe as you admired the countless amount of doodles in mapi’s notebook.

the defender stood beside you, peering over your t-shirt clad shoulder with a bashful smile on her face, very out of character for the usually boastful footballer. “i’ve had a lot of free time since my injury, mi amor.”

you couldn’t argue with that. but the huge assortment of drawings were quite overwhelming, you didn’t know where to start. each page you turned there was a new array of tattoo designs to discover: different flowers, quotes, animals - even a double page reserved for your favourite food and drinks, which mapi seemed to perk up at, pointing out the milkshake she had drawn, stating it was her best.

“baby, i don’t know if i can choose. there’s so many.” you told her, wincing at the sheer amount of pages you had yet to flick through.

your girlfriend remained silent for a few seconds and you risked taking a glance in her direction, expecting to see her pouting back at you. instead, however, you were met with a grinning maría león, something you had come to dread seeing over the years.

“oh no. i’m scared to ask.”

she scoffed at that, gently pushing you with a faux offended look. “you act as if i’m about to suggest something illegal.”

“i wouldn’t be surprised.” you deadpanned.

“that was one time- anyways!” the tattooed woman pushed back the stray hairs that had fallen loose from the messy bun she had thrown her hair up into earlier and gestured to the book. “why don’t i just decide for you?”

you glanced between her and the book, your bottom lip slotting between your teeth as you mulled over mapi’s question, knowing your next decision could put an end to you ever wearing a bikini again. “i don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“come on! don’t you trust me? you know i would never put something you don’t like on your body permanently, mi amor.” she tugged at one of your arms that were crossed against your chest, her tone coming out whiny.

you paused at that, knowing she had a point. if she had gone to all this effort, to draw out well over one hundred different tattoo ideas whilst she waited for you to finally allow her to put tattoo pen to skin, she wouldn’t ruin it by giving you something you’d hate to look at in the mirror.

as if she could sense your hard resolve slowly melting away, she pressed a swift peck to your temple and brought you closer to her with an arm around your shoulder. “i know you better than you know yourself. let me surprise you, i promise you’ll love it.”

you huffed out a breath, your shoulders sagging with defeat which alerted mapi of your agreement without you even having to say anything. before you could even blink, she started jumping up and down on the spot, clapping her hands together in excitement and you couldn’t fight off the smile at her utter glee, you really needed to learn how to say no to her.

“oh my god i’m gonna give you the best tattoo ever sweetheart! even better than any of mine, you’re going to be obsessed with it! you’re the best, you don’t know how hap-“

“mapi, darling, breathe!” you couldn’t help but laugh at her overexcitement, slightly worrying that you might have to make her sit down for a few minutes before she started with the tattoo.

“lo siento, lo siento. i just can’t believe this is finally happening, i was starting to think you were never going to let me tattoo you.”

and again, you were going to have to learn how to start saying no to your girlfriend (and stick with it).

[saturnsbabyboii]

🫧My experience being friends with the Moon signs 🫧

-Please remember that this is not a reflection of everyone with said placement. The behaviors of a single asshole aren't that of the many (sometimes). Also, I don't/didn't have friends with all Moons. Some would have one person or no specific person, and rather so, I'll be giving general observations.

🫧Taurus Moon🫧

Friend #1: Kind, loving, generous, thoughtful, quiet, slow, and internalizes everything. She is one of my closest friends ever. She is practically the father figure of the group, helping everyone out, protecting them, advocating, giving advice, and making sure that they're set and good. Picky with her friends, many of them are people she has known since childhood, and most are her cousins with very few that aren't related to her. Tech and cyber expert. A big animal and nature lover. She loves her space and peace, she is slow to return texts, hates calls, and has the social battery of a sloth. Good singing voice. Loves video games, and is OBSESSED with whatever she has an interest in. Overall, her emotions are well-regulated, however, as an Earth Moon she rationalizes herself and stays pretty chill, even when she needs to pipe up.

Friend #2: Obsessive, jealous, sensual, persistent, indulgent yet very frugal, and stubborn af. A big-time foodie, he does have quite the appetite. Good singing voice too. Always at the clearance section of 'Bath and Body Works'. Thrifty. Got to have three of the same body spray. Candle queen. Trust issues with a very paranoid outlook on things. A bit greedy. Always asking people to buy them things. Very sexual. Cares for his younger sisters and loves his family and friends.

Friend #3: Big-time nerd. Memes are his only talking reference. Great singing voice and can imitate voices very well. Shy extrovert. Loves animations and even studied to be an animator and designer. Hugger. Big animal lover (he legit has what seems like a zoo of pets at home).

Friend #4: Obsessed with history (especially medieval history). All about death and our relationship with mortality. A literal cat. Isn't afraid to get her hands dirty. Goes all in on a subject of interest. Has the same appearance and sense of style as always.

I find Taurus Moons to be very comforting and a joy to be around. They defiantly bring a sense of stability to the relationship, mainly because they're predictable. Not in the "boring" sense but rather that they're people of clear and simple emotions no matter how grand they're in expression, it's pretty clear what they feel, how they feel, and why; Basically, there's no catch or an underbelly to their emotions. Other qualities I have found was that they're pretty aloof, they hate to be intimate with people they barely know, and they actually like fast-paced relationships (only if they really like you), they love to dress simply but chic, and they do have a well known "thing". They always got that "thing" you associate with them and they have it for comfort, like a kid with a blanket or a toy. They also love animals, pastels, the color brown, and karaoke. Hates confrontation and always second guesses their gut feeling. They're also very stubborn and in general, find it much harder to break out of habitual cycles of disconnecting and detachment when shit gets real.

🫧Gemini Moon🫧

Friend #1: Very smart. Great writer and lyricist. Talented musician and singer. Loves people. A bit timid about being in the spotlight. Loves to connect with others over interests, especially art and social issues. Great dresser. Romantic. Bends too fast. Dislikes confrontation but would stand up for a loved one. Bad judge of character (always attracts cheaters and assholes).

Friend #2: Certified L.A.B (lying ass bitch). Says shit for the sake of saying shit. Fake trauma bonding. Leeches off of people. Toxic. Abusive. Always with abusers. Manipulative and hateful. Been around the block. Would do anything for validation. Makes up stories about others to play the role of the victim. (Very likely she has a cluster B personality disorder and no Gemini Moon would claim her.)

I think I have experienced two extremes of this moon, with one being highly and continuously evolving and the other being consistently trash. I am fond of the energy that Gemini has on the moon. There's this innocence that they possess at the core, and it could be the purest and most genuine thing or the biggest fabrication in history. Nonetheless, I do love to be around them and the energy they bring to a relationship. It is always lively, fresh, and new, they'll always come up with something to do with you, and always find a way to spend time and be close to you. They definitely give mixed signals since they tend to be a bit playful, especially in their platonic relationships, and they are very touchy. They're bold and outspoken generally about how they feel. They're less guarded and more likely to share and talk about their problems and their opinions. In contrast, they would rather die than open up about their deep true emotions.

🫧Cancer Moon🫧

Talking about their ex was their favorite pastime. Never misses an important function. Celebrations and social events were considered important. The person that would want to go somewhere but then gets upset because things did not go how they imagined they would. Ruminates on past events and feelings. Vents a lot but also gives you the space to do so. Strong stan on temporary emotions and circumstances. Feels how she feels and doesn't care how others perceive her for it, or what they think about it. Low key ferocious (I live for it though). The only person I know that isn't afraid to publicly voice their boundaries when crossed.

I don't think I met another Cancer Moon besides this person, and we became friends only because we were together in similar classes at uni. Overall, I would say from what I have observed, her relationships with her friends were always great and seemed pretty solid. Romantically though, sis was very challenged, and I don't think it was totally her date's fault. She is an acquired taste and she knows what she wants. Seems very hung up on the idea of meeting expectations and fighting an imaginary clock to get THE perfect life. Good luck with that.

🫧Leo Moon🫧

Creative. Self-motivated. A visionary. The definition of an untamable person. Careful of who they keep company. Lives for an adventure. All about self-expressing, being authentic, and breaking the system. Great philosophical talker. Has true parental instincts. Very comfortable with themselves. Sexual. Great body-mind attunement. Good at mirroring others.

I have heard/read a lot of shit spewing about this placement, but I have to say that I do love to meet them. They're a breath of fresh air. Although I get how they can give an impression of a know it all "I am better than you" life dula, I never detect malice in their approach and usually they're more than respectful if you talk to them about it. They carry the weight of life with such ease, and I envy their perseverance. They definitely love to live life to the fullest. They have their select few friends that they have for a lifetime and like to keep it that way.

🫧Virgo Moon🫧

Never been friends with a Virgo Moon, although not for lack of trying but they themselves are quite apprehensive of bonds with people. They're close to their family and the friends they have they got to know them through school, work, or because they had no other option than to be around you. A molded chaos, and an organized mess. Life runs much faster for them and there's never enough time to finish anything. Despite their tendency to give everything a sense of debilitating urgency, they aren't hypochondriacs. Being strong and well functioning is important to them, as such they take good care of their bodies and surroundings. Oddly spiritual with a devolution to routine rituals. Their emotions are well hidden, they have the hardest exterior to crack. However, they're avid about mental health and wellness. I have also noticed that they tend to lash out, uncharacteristic of them, when they're overwhelmed or feel cornered.

🫧Libra Moon🫧

Friend #1: Very sweet. Bad Bitch™. Always looks good. Best dancer I know. Craves love and relationships. Attracts drama. They are very close to their family. Heavily underestimated. "Legally Blond" but Elle is a Latina that studies medicine. Loves astrology. Takes care of their friendships. Always on the go. Meeting new people all the time.

Friend #2: Pushover. Non-confrontational yet very aggressive. Easily frustrated. Closed minded to different interests. A bit extreme and abrasive. HATES astrology. LOVES the show 'Friends'. Self-critical. Insecure.

A placement that perfectly embodies Libra. Heavenly body and presence. Indecisive as hell. Always stuck in bad relationships. Head is always in the clouds. Romanticizing everything. Walking like they're being filmed. I would say there is an emphasis on companionship and finding "the one" throughout their lives, plus drama is second nature. They might be used to drama so much so that they lose sense of their boundaries and self, in turn making them vulnerable to manipulation and abuse. Their "all about me" era is like no other and is a true turning point in their lives. They seem to thrive when are surrounded by masculinity and masculine people, or overall very competitive and cut-throat environment. They use being underestimated to their advantage.

🫧Scorpio Moon🫧

"Me, myself and I". Paranoid as hell. Big spender. Artistic. Good at portrait sketching. Dresses well. Loves drama. Is the drama. Tone deaf. Low-key ungrateful. An immense sense of self-importance. Passive aggressive. PETTY. Mature exterior with very childish interests. Hypercritical of everything, including themselves.

"Jesus take the wheel" was made as a phrase for dealing with a Scorpio Moon. I get the fragility and being highly emotional and sensitive, that I read about. However, I mostly find them to be disagreeable and pensive. You never know what is the truth, so I assume everything is a lie, and if it's the truth then there must be a catch. They would wake up and the day already sucks. They love to surround themselves with expensive things. It's uncomfortable to be around a placement that seems to believe their own projections and preconceived notions of others rather than getting to know people, or maybe just mind their own business. I would say though that having a Scorpio Moon is probably unpleasant, but I have seen worse happen to other placements with "favorable" moons. And of course, I am talking about the ones that I have met and not every single Scorpio Moon out there.

🫧Sagittarius Moon🫧

Friend #1: Life of the party (actually the life of life). Loves to laugh. Comfortable with everyone. Always hype. Smokes like a chimney. Either brave or stupid. Hype. Frequent dealings with older guys. No chills. Loves to play with friends. Car hangouts over going into places. Funny on the outside, sad on the inside.

Friend #2: Very smart. Tarot mogul. Always a good time. Great convorsaitonlist. A softie. Very sensitive. Expressive.

Friend #3: Would cut a bitch. A true ride or die. A person you want to be on her good side. An unofficial dominatrix. Sweet but feisty. Loves her cat. Always lit. Would do anything for her friends. A good bullshit detector.

A favorite of mine, it is very hard not to like a Sag moon. They're so caring of others and are always making sure that you're good and having a good time. They're the type of person to trust if you're in a bar or a club. I would say that there is a very sad side to them under all that happiness. They're always anxious, which is probably why they don't sleep or eat very well. They also get a lot of migraines. If they open up then they really really really trust you (which is important to them since they can vibe and hang out with anyone but barely trust). They usually have a much calmer Earth sun best friend. I would say that they act much older than their when young but then seem to stay stuck on childish cycles of defensiveness and escapism as they get older.

🫧Capricorn Moon🫧

Friend #1: Artistic and crafty. Resilient. Capable of being very sweet and stern. Good with money, planning, and organizing. Maticolus. Conscious and realistic about their growth and development. Loves animals. Loves to be active in nature. A strong believer in karma.

Friend #2: A true powerhouse. Wonderwoman. My mentor and only real-life role model. An established businesswoman. Rags to riches. Despite having a physical disability she can drive, open pickle jars, do lifts and push up, plus she is a fashion designer that can sew. All of that with one arm. A fighter through and through.

Never had the privilege of being friends with many Capricorn Moons but I have known quite a few and some are very close friends of my family. A rough start in life. They really do take time to peak, however, the glow-up is real. Least spiritual Moon sign. Not egotistical or cold as I read so often. Quite warm and welcoming actually. They might be borderline Darwinists when it comes to the importance of human life and mortality. Believers of hard work and initiative. Lovers and fighters. Silent passion. When young, their relationship with their mother can be described as codependent, and their relationship with their father is strained with a sense of animosity. However, with time the roles seem to slowly reverse. Regardless, their family defenatliy takes precedence throughout their lives. They value respect more than anything else.

🫧Aquarius Moon🫧

Friend #1: Devoted to volunteer work and other people. The "fixer" type. Wants to be needed. Self-help books are all they read. Their interests and style are influenced by the people they're hanging out with. Accidentally (or maybe not) trauma bond with others. Desires to be a leader. Emotions focused. Worries about their reputation a lot. No luck with love. And also in friendship. Many friends, very few that are close, and only one has been consistent so far. Loves to have hangouts with large groups.

Friend #2: Music is their soul. Hippie. Loves acting. "center of attention". Dress based on aesthetics. TikTok addict. Interested in astrology and spirituality. Cold. Performative.

Friend #3: Know-it-all. Bad at expressing themself. No filter. Self-centered. Radical thinking. "Everyone is stupid". Loves to stand out. Learned how to finish a Rubix cube just to show it off. Having low grades is a "red flag" to him. Has a strong desire to be loved, yet none to give it back.

Friend #4: All about the drama and lights. Emotionally explosive at times. Hiding behind a facade. Loves to meet different people. Business savvy. Guarded but would give you their heart once they let it down. Displays emotions as anger when in reality they're scared. Superficial connections to others are more prevalent.

Generally, these people are dynamic and quite sociable. They're people focused in the best and worst ways possible. There is a constant desire to change surroundings (and at times help others change and grow) but they themselves tend to be relatively rigid at the core. Impressionistic (even though they would probably deny it). Self-image is usually not the reality (this could manifest in being overconfident or self-critical). They love to work with their hands a lot and do much better when working with others in comparison to working alone. They are altruistic but aren't attentive to others' desires; as a result, they believe they know better about everything and "what is best" depending on the situation. Imitates emotions rather than naturally expressing them.

🫧Pisces Moon🫧

Another very close friend of mine. Hard to read. Intelligent. People smart. Their friends are family. Uncomfortable with expressing their emotions, yet a good listener. Extroverted introvert. Loves to go out and meet people. Likes to club, going to parties, playing video games, and trying out new things. Loyal. Tough shell, soft heart. Doesn't give a flying fuck about what strangers think of them. Trophy hunter. A very realistic and pragmatic view of the world. Melancholic. They are perceived as troubled when they're just quiet. Low-key altruistic.

This Moon sign is not as bubbly as I have heard about it. They're hard to pinpoint as they usually come off as either Aquarius or Scorpio Moons. They tend to go through much more emotional turmoil, especially as children. They have a floaty feel to them. They feel a lot but nothing at once. They are usually witnesses to harm done to others and suffer losses related to other people rather be it themselves directly, which contributes to a sense of isolation from their peers. They do definitely grow into brave people that face life despite all the baggage they seem to drag around. By far the moon sign that takes the longest to open up honestly and completely, although they do experience spats of anxiety from time to time. Also FOOOOODDDD. They love food and everything that brings them comfort. Vices.

🫧Aries Moon🫧

Very emotional yet not expressive. Dedicated and strong-willed (she is a pediatrician). Hung up on "the one that got away". A true badass. So pretty yet so sad. Her dogs are her babies. Always choosing violence. Femme fatal that drives a Jeep Wrangler.

Emotions that cut deeper than a sword. They seem to compensate for emotional and inner needs with material things and career achievements. Very intimidating when you meet them at first, as they appear put together and quite the expert in their field. They spiral downwards if life doesn't go their way. Personally, I think this moon sign is the most emotionally rigid. Not for their lack of desire to change but rather that they get stuck on what their heart desire and can't seem to see or want anything other than that thing or person that they can't get. They also seem hellbent on trying to control what we can't control, such as the past, other people, and unforeseen misfortune. Highly upkeep on their exterior. Needs some form of vice to process emotions, usually it's smoking and drinking. They tend to be their parents favorite.

[aristaspark]

The reasons why I think Stella and Bloom's friendship is amazing and is not something we often see

Or why Fate is trash

One aspect of Winx club I always loved growing up was the friendship between the girls. They all love each other, despite their very different personnalities and having some rough times.

While I could write an essay about almost every duo in Winx club, I do think that Stella and Bloom are the most interesting to analyze.

Even though they are part of a friend group, the show doesn't try to hide the fact that Stella and Bloom are each other best friend, they even say so themselves.

This friendship is truly groundbreaking when we think about it, for one simple reason: Bloom and Stella's archetypes usually hates each other when depicted together in media.

Hear me out.

Stella is the girly girl, the mean girl, the popular girl with a big mouth who can appear shallow. Plus, she's blond. She bases a big portion of her self-worth in her apperance. Basically, she's the Regina George of Winx Club.

Bloom, she's not like the other girls. There's nothing wrong with her, she's attractive and a sweetheart, yet she attracts attention for being different (in the show there are a few reasons for this, first she's from Earth and she's also the keeper of the Dragon Flame, making her a god-like existence in the story). She has messy hair, dresses in jeans, doesn't really care about her apperance... She's a fish out of water type of character, the character everyone can and wants to relate to. She's the Cady of Winx Club.

These two were designed to hate each other.

Taking into account Stella's nature, we expect her to hate Bloom out of sheer jealousy. Bloom doesn't try and gets all the attention, she's the new girl who turns out to be the one girl more powerful than her, she's also a princess. We could say that everything Stella can do, Bloom can do better.

And yet...

Stella would kill a bitch for Bloom. Never in the show does she display any sort of ill feelings toward Bloom, on the contrary, she spends her time trying to get her to be more confident in herself and her abilities. She's sweet with her and does her best to uplift her. I can say with confidence that Stella is the one person in the show who loves Bloom the most (tied with Daphne), like Sky doesn't hold A CANDLE to her.

When Bloom leaves on missions by herself she's worried sick, she's always clinging to her, teasing her, looking out for her. She's always the one there for Bloom when things get hard (when the Trix steal her powers, when Sky gets engaged to Diaspro, when she thinks of her family...)

And Bloom, she just loves Stella. She's the reason her dream became reality (it was her meeting with her which caused her to learn her true nature), and Stella took her under her wing to make it easier for her to fit into this new world. She saw from the beggining that Stella was willing to lie for her, to fight for her and she couldn't help but love her, even if she had a big mouth and quite the personnality. Stella brought lightness and laughter into her world, she was her anchor.

For real, just look at her reaction when Stella throws herself from the cliff in season two. She spends the episodes after that obsessing over finding and saving Stella.

These two can't live without each other even though one is the 'your typical mean girl' and the other is 'not like the other girls'.

Heck, everytime the villains freaking spy on the Winx these two are all over each other.

I think the heart of their friendship is their first meeting. Stella was what Bloom had dreamed of all her life: she was a real fairy, the living personnification of her dreams. She's the one who made her dream a reality. As for Stella, she was saved by a human who risked her life and stood up for her even though she didn't stand any chance and didn't know her. Bloom was just lucky she turned out to be a fairy. Bloom then took her to her house and took care of her, without expecting anything in return, which caused them to bond instantly.

That relationship was freaking transgressive for the time, and Fate's writers deserve jail for what they did to their friendship. Bloom and Stella fighting over a boy and Stella turning into the typical insecure and jealous mean girl? Hell no.

Look at these queens 🥹

[lewisvinga]

ultraviolence | carlos sainz x fem! reader

summary; carlos and y/n always find themselves going back to the same toxic relationship. no matter how hard they try, it just always felt like a kiss.

warnings; toxic relationships, yelling/arguing

notes; i know carlos would probs never act like this but it’s for the plot guys 😞

word count; 700

taglist; @namgification

‘born to die’ series masterlist.

f1 masterlist !

“Get the fuck out of here. I don’t want to see you. Vete! [go]”

“Fine! I don’t ever wanna see your bitch ass ever again!”

Y/n’s best friend sighs as Y/n tells her about her last argument with Carlos from the week before. One week being broken up was a record for them. They never lasted more than 4 days. “But that was the end of us. Actually. I’m done with him.” Y/n quickly says after noticing her friends sigh

“Y/n, all it takes is for him to show up at your doorstep with a designer bag or fancy jewelry in hand, begging for your forgiveness.”

“I know but this time I won’t fall for it!”

Just a couple hours after Y/n’s best friend left, someone suddenly knocked on her door. Y/n quickly ran over to the door, thinking it was the Uber Eats delivery driver but her smile fell once she opened her door. “What are you doing here?”

“Mi amor,” Carlos says in a desperate tone with a Van Cleef & Arpels in hand and a large bouquet of red roses in the other. Y/n feels her heart stop for a split second. Her heart took over as she stepped to the side, leaving room for him to enter. "Perdóname, mi amor. [forgive me, my love] I can't live without you. Please."

"Carlos..." Y/n mumbles as he takes a step closer to her. "I thought we were over. For good.'

"I can't live without you, mi amor. I'm sorry, I'll change."

She lets out a deep sigh, clearly conflicted about whether she should forgive him or not. She could hear her friend in the back of her mind and was quick to ignore her mind to instead respond with what her heart yearned for. "Fine. I forgive you."

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

"You're crazy! I can't stand you." Y/n huffs, slamming the door to his Ferrari shut. Just a few weeks later, they were out clubbing with a few of the other drivers. Carlos had 2 girls all over him and was seemingly flirting with them. However, Y/n was dancing too close to Lando for Carlos' liking, especially since her dress was too short.

Carlos saw her with Lando and dragged her out of the club by her wrist, clearly upset. "You were grinding on him? I could tell you were making him hard!" The Spaniard groans in frustration, unlocking the door to his place.

"You were flirting with other girls! Why can’t I have fun either?”

“Because you’re mine. I don’t want to see you with other guys.”

“But I have to see you openly flirt with other girls?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“No!” Y/n exclaims, her voice becoming louder. She only danced with Lando to get back at Carlos. She didn’t even like the Brit in that way. She just hated seeing that stupid smile the Spaniard had when flirting with girls in skimpy outfits. “I’m sick of you. Acting like it’s fine if girls grind all over you too but God forbid I dance with a friend-“

“Shut the fuck up, Y/n.”

“Shut the fuck up, y/n!” She mimicked in a high-pitched voice. Her face morphed into disgust, heading off into their shared room. “Grow some balls, own up to yourself, then you shut the fuck up!”

“Come back here, Y/n.”

“Fuck off!”

“Quit acting like a bitch!”

Both of their voices were quickly getting louder and louder until they were yelling. They paid no mind to their poor neighbors who would have to hear their screaming matches for hours once again. How could one live like that? Consistently arguing with your partner for hours and hours.

The toxicity was addicting to the both of them. Carlos was like a drug for Y/n. She couldn’t get enough. Even if they always got into arguments over stupid things or doing things to purposely mess with the others just to end in a screaming match, she was addicted.

Carlos loved the screaming matches. He loved having someone that matches his fierceness. He couldn’t help but love the way she’s always screaming at him, in a good and a bad way. Her rage was something beautiful to him. He loves how all it takes is a gift and flowers for her to be back.

For y/n, his toxicity felt like a kiss. With his ultraviolence, the possessive and toxic glint in his brown eyes, it was enough to capture her. She just wanted all of his ultraviolence.

[heartsforvin]

FIRST SLEEPOVER

thank you 🪼 nonnie for the request !! i hope you like it <3

pairing: vinnie hacker x shy!fem!reader

warnings: cussing, use of pet names, pure fluff otherwise <3

summary: it’s your first time spending the night at vinnie’s place

you were a very shy and closed off person. you loved your time alone and always had some trouble making new friends due to how shy you really were.

when you first met vinnie, it took you awhile to open up to him, to let you see the real you.

you never really cared that much for the dating scene. sure you had your moments where all of your friends were dating and you were left third wheeling, but it never bothered you too much.

so when vinnie showed up into your life out of the blue, you didn’t know how to act.

the two of you have only been together a little over four months, so the relationship was still quite new.

when you first met vinnie, it took you a bit to actually warm up to him and let yourself trust him.

you were also aware of his profession, which made you bit nervous, but he had reassured you saying it was all going to be fine.

meeting his friends and family was difficult for you, seeing as they were brand new people who you had never met.

“they’re gonna love you, you’ll be okay.” he told you reassuringly with a kiss to your head.

meeting his friends and family had gone well, and he was right, you were completely okay.

now, here you were with vinnie in his apartment watching a movie on the couch.

you were sat a few inches away from him, hera in the middle of you two. you saw vinnie looking at you through the corner of your eye, making you turn to face him.

“what?” you ask with a small laugh as you look at vinnie.

he shrugs, smiling at you as he holds his arm out. “come here.” he motions for you to sit by him.

you give him a weak smile. even if it has been four months, you still get those nerves, it was normal. your shyness played a role too, which you hated.

slowly, you move to lay by vinnie, putting your head on his chest but body still being stiff.

vinnie knew not to take it personally, that you were still getting used to things. “it’s alright sweetheart,” he reassured, rubbing your back. “just relax.”

you did, finally easing into him and enjoying the movie together. hours later, vinnie asked if you wanted to stay over since it was getting late, you were hesitant at first, but soon agreed.

he had ordered a pizza for you both and gave you one of his shirts for you to wear. once the food got to his place the two of you ate and relaxed the rest of the night.

once the end of the night came you were a bit hesitant to sleep in the bed with vinnie. this was your guys’ first sleepover, there was reason to be a bit nervous.

“you all ready for bed, princess?” vinnie came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, head on your shoulder as you finished brushing your teeth.

you nod your head once you finish up. vinnie smiles and takes your hand, leading you to his room.

“hera usually comes in here in the middle of the night, so if you feel moment, it’s probably just her.” vinnie notifies, making you smile.

he lets you pick which side of the bed you want when he has his designated spot.

you get into the bed and curl up in the blankets as vinnie gets in too.

“comfy?” vinnie asks as he pulls you against him, you hum with a smile.

the two of you soon fall asleep for the night, not in each others arms, but close enough, and vinnie will take it.

⋆.ೃ࿔*

the next morning vinnie wakes up to him being practically on top of you, his arms wrapped around you.

he peppers kisses across your face, watching as you still lay asleep. once you finally do wake up, you feel vinnie’s lips on your skin and scrunch your face.

“g’morning, pretty,” vinnie says as he kisses your cheek. “are you blushing?”

you put your hands over your face with a giggle. “stop it.” you groan.

vinnie smiles as he pulls your hands away. “it’s cute,” he says. “you’re cute.”

your cheeks heat up again at the compliment and you laugh, thanking him.

“you’re adorable when you’re asleep you know? you were all up on me last night, it was co cute, the way you clung to me.”

pushing your head in the pillow you groan at his teasing. “vinnie stop.”

he laughs and pulls you up to face him. he kisses your forehead. “sleep well?”

you nod. “i was nervous at first, which you could probably tell,” you laugh. “but yeah, i slept well and had a fun time with you.”

he rubs your arm reassuringly with a smile. “good. hopefully this won’t be the last sleepover you have, because i plan to have many more with you.”

you smile. “i hope so too, it was fun, really. i know my shyness kind of gets in the way, but i do like spending time with you, really.” you reply.

vinnie kisses your head again and pulls you with him to get up out of bed.

he didn’t know what he had planned yet for the day, as long as it was spent with you, it didn’t matter what he did.

hiii i’m feeling A LOT better and finally got this out !! thank you 🪼 nonnie again for the request, i hope you liked it <33

tags: @cosmicanakin , @anqeliclust , @42angelgirl , @sturnioloshacker , @khackerr , @visualbutterflysworld , @leqonsluv3r , @kriissy4gov , @kayleighh , @bernelflo , @jpg3 , @khxna , @slvthrs , @0strawberrysorbet0 , @skye-44 , @laylasbunbunny , @defnotayonna , @supabhad , @miilzzy , @eddieslut69 , @hallecarey1 , @violet0182 , @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom

[heliads]

there's things i want to say to you

No one on this earth can get under your skin quite like Lando Norris. It would take something insane for you to be able to move past that. Maybe realizing that Lando's crazy for you would do the trick.

masterlistT

You have one mission for this particular race weekend, one mission alone, and that is to not mess up. On the track, off the track. Don’t fuck it up. This isn’t unusual by any means– flying around corners and down straights at such tumultuous speeds typically means you aren’t angling to make any mistakes anyway, but this weekend in particular needs to be perfect.

Everyone’s on edge right now, not just you. This is the time of year when contracts start expiring, when what had seemed like a decent season might end up being your last. It’s all on the wire, and at last it’s occurring to you, and everyone else for that matter, that their entire career is up to whatever they do on the track.

You’ve already sat down with your PR manager several times to discuss how you should handle this weekend, as well as the next few weekends until you can get a contract renewal locked in. You have no reason to doubt your current team, you’ve been delivering the results as asked, but there’s always the small voice in the back of your head wondering if you haven’t been picking up on the warning signs. You’ve heard of drivers getting blindsided before. Why couldn’t it happen to you?

So yes, although you’ve been just fine since your last contract signing, drivers have been let go for smaller offenses. That’s why you need to be damn near perfect this weekend. If you get through this latest race with no mistakes and some good points, you’ll be just fine. Once you’ve signed to your team again, you can relax. Up until that time, though, your behavior needs to be as proper as you can make it.

You’ve been managing such a task pretty well this whole weekend. Thursday you were nervous but in control all throughout the interviews, Friday landed you some good practices, and you did well enough in Saturday’s qualifying that you have nothing to lose sleep over yet, at least. You just need to get through today, and then luck will be on your side even more than before.

The race will start in less than an hour; you’re wandering the grid in the throngs of other drivers and team principles and spectators. At some point soon, you’ll have to head over to listen to the usual bungling of the host country’s national anthem, but until then, you’re putting on a good face. Your PR manager is flashing you discreet thumbs up whenever you see her. Life is good.

You weave around the various cars, not so close that you’ll be accused of spying but just close enough that you could, you know, if you wanted to. No one minds getting a better idea of their opponents’ sidepod designs anyway. Above all else, you keep an eye out for camera crews; Martin Brundle’s here somewhere, interviewing some poor sap, and you’d like to keep out of his way lest he turn to questioning you instead. The guy’s got a knack for getting under anyone’s skin, you don’t much feel like an interrogation today.

In fact, you can see him right now, eagerly thrusting his microphone towards some hapless driver. You see the papaya cap first, then hear the grating voice, and– well, maybe you’ll drift a little closer than before, because watching Lando Norris get picked to pieces by Martin won’t be the worst start to your race morning after all.

In single-seater racing, everyone is your enemy. At the end of the day, it’s you versus all nineteen other drivers on the grid. This means that you should have no particular arch rival, but if you were going to hate someone more than anyone else like that, it would be Lando by a long shot.

He’s just infuriating, that’s all. It’s like racing with a kid, he never learned to grow up, and every time you have to talk to him, you walk away wishing you could throttle him. Lando annoys you to death, and worst of all, he’s quite aware of it and proud of it, too. Usually, you go out of your way to avoid being near him, but you can make out the displeased look on his face from here, and if Martin Brundle is tearing him to shreds, well, you’d like to hear that more than anything.

You casually adjust course so you’ll be passing behind Lando. It looks like nothing at all, just you trying to navigate the packed grid, but you can hear every word of the conversation happening between Martin and Lando now.

You can’t help but smile as you hear Martin questioning Lando.  “McLaren hasn’t had as good of a weekend so far as they’d like, I think,” Martin is saying, “What’s your strategy to turn that bit of bad luck around?”

Lando’s grin is frozen on his face like plastic. “Uh, we’ll definitely be gunning for whoever’s in front of us with everything we’ve got. Best strategy is to just go for it.”

Martin nods. You’re close enough now that you’re about to walk straight behind Lando, close enough that you swear Martin sees you just before he asks, “Anyone in particular that you’ll be going for?”

“Yeah,” Lando says, scratching his head absentmindedly, “Y/N L/N.”

Perfect timing. The cameraman quickly pans his camera between Lando’s deliverance of this answer to you, right over his shoulder like a devil. The worst part is that you genuinely don’t even think Lando knew you were there or planned it like that. He just likes throwing you under the bus for fun.

Martin chuckles– this must be the best thing for him all morning, really, drama like this gets him talked about like nothing else– and addresses his next question to you. “So, Y/N, what do you think about that?”

Lando turns around, evidently startled, but you just plaster on a smile. “He can try his best, but I won’t be letting anyone through today,” you tell Martin, and leave as soon as you can.

You can sense the cameras following you no matter how far away you go. Damn. And, as you walk further towards a group of your race engineers, you remember the most important part of your PR manager’s advice for this weekend:  avoiding trouble, not just putting on a good face. That hasn’t worked out so well for you now. You do very well in that race, but what the Internet focuses on the most in the days to come isn’t your result but endless gifs of your irritated face in the background of Lando’s interview when he says he’ll be targeting you.

It’s not the greatest, to say the least. So much for playing it cool before a contract is signed. Oh, PR’s going to have a holiday over this one. You’d almost be surprised with the speed at which they suggest a media activity to wipe the slate clean, except for the fact that they’ve probably been counting on you messing something up this weekend so they had to have backup plans. Always nice to be trusted, isn’t it?

The event actually isn’t that bad. They’ve gotten a good amount of you together for some manner of charity work/awareness raising/well intentioned propaganda nonsense. They love putting F1 drivers together on a program outside race week, like it’s some kind of proof they can point to when the press conferences seem more awkward than usual. See, they hang out all the time! Of course they like each other!

(They do not like each other. Not at all. Some do, but. Most are not some. You are not some.) 

Today, drivers will be in pairs, volunteering with children so motorsport can accrue a younger fanbase. Normally, you love events like this, the kids get so excited to talk to an actual live Formula One driver as if they’re typically just in display cases or something. Things will go wrong, fun times will be had, and your PR manager will ease off for a day or two provided that you do a good job. Not the worst thing in the world.

Usually, the organizers of such image-boosting nonsense at least try to put friends together. Quick camera cuts and a good deal of B-roll can only do so much to cover up the missed jokes, the cruel laughs. You’re with your teammate more often than not, a unified front, or else with one of the drivers you’re closer to. It’s easier that way. The smiles come more quickly.

That’s what you expect when you show up. Instead, you glance at the email telling you the place and the name and the time, and you see that you’ll be stationed with– no, no please– Lando. Lando Norris. Lando, the one boy you can’t stand more than anyone.

They know that. Of course they do. It is physically impossible to avoid that fact. As if you haven’t seen the YouTube compilations of terrible moments between the two of you, the Instagram posts with the hateful stares, the TikToks with captivating audios of every time you’ve slighted each other in the paddock or during interviews. You’re a bitch, he’s an ass, and neither of you get to be the good one coming out of those fights, but more often than not, it’s him.

There’s nothing you can do about it now. Causing a kerfuffle will only turn the organizers against you, and you refuse to show weakness in the face of British children, drivers or otherwise, so you keep your smile fake and your mouth shut. This is a good cause. You can hold your tongue for a few hours. The kids will, at least, appreciate it. Hopefully.

Lando’s already at your assigned station when you get there. He’s spinning aimlessly in one of the chairs they’ve given him, and you have to fight to hide your laugh at his rotation speed.

“Trying to train for G-Force, are you? I’m almost impressed with your dedication to the sport, Norris.”

Lando looks up with a start when you speak, and he hurriedly puts his feet down to stop his frenzied spinning. “You’re impressed with me? Glad to hear it.”

You roll your eyes, taking a seat on the chair next to him. “Oh, always. Do you know who put the two of us together on this activity? I want to have words with them.”

Lando snorts. “Not me, definitely. Whoever it is, they’re probably in witness protection at the moment. You look like you’re going to murder someone.”

“It might be you,” you tell him.

He groans. “Come off it. What have I even done to you? Can we not go without fighting for, like, five minutes?”

You scoff. “You’re the one who went after me on live television not three days ago.”

“Oh, you mean the interview with Brundle? That was so not my fault. He tries to trick you into going after other drivers, you know that.” Lando argues.

You arch a brow. “So he specifically tricked you into naming me as your first target? I didn’t know he operated at that level of mental warfare.”

Lando has the grace to look somewhat ashamed. “No. Uh. That may have been me.”

Thankfully, you’re interrupted by one of the event organizers coming in to tell you that the kids are arriving shortly. They pour in soon enough, about dozen children all thrilled to death about the fact that they actually get to talk to you and Lando. You’re soon distracted by the flood of questions directed towards you, ranging from kids wanting to know which drivers you’re best friends with to what superhero is your favorite.

You answer each question with equal solemnity, and before long you’re laughing with ease. You’re meant to be doing crafts and questions, so you help the kids make plastic beaded bracelets while you talk about the different colors of the flags and tyres. All in a day’s work.

Surprisingly, the fact that you have to do all of this with Lando right there beside you isn’t the worst thing in the world. He seems content to just watch you have fun with the kids with this weird, quiet smile on his face, and when everyone’s making their crafts, he’s bent over a project of his own, one that he refuses to let you so much as peek at.

At last, Lando straightens up and presents the finished product with a flourish. “It’s for you,” he says proudly, “Consider it a peace offering.”

You stare at it. He’s made a bracelet for you, complete with the same brightly colored beads that the other kids are using. Except, in the center, he’s spelled out a message—

You frown at him, confused. “This just says ‘driver.’”

“You are one,” Lando points out helpfully. 

There is a fight to not roll your eyes, and you are on the losing side. “Incredible.”

“I also made it in your team colors,” he says. He’s smiling at it. At you. Fondly.

It’s not an expression you usually associate with him, but you’re smiling too, aren’t you? You can’t seem to stop. It’s just— you’re here with him, and instead of fighting, he’s gone to the trouble of making you this. Your colors, your message. Fuck. 

You slip it onto your wrist before you can stop yourself. “Thank you.”

Lando’s grin broadens. “Does this mean I’m forgiven?”

You let out a frustrated huff. “You’ve ruined the moment. Stop having an agenda.”

“You’re still smiling despite my agenda,” Lando mentions. 

He’s unreal. It’s not as bad as before, though. Not that you’d tell him that much. 

Just in case he actually has ruined the brief moment of peace, Lando raises his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, then,” he says, “I’ll be better. Name one thing I can do to make this easier on you and I’ll get it done in a heartbeat.”

He’s expecting you to tell him there’s nothing he can do to improve himself in your eyes. It’ll make him seem like the bigger person and he’ll have the upper hand, then. Instead, you tilt your head to the side, considering him, and then at last point your finger at the offense on his chin.

“Shave the half-beard,” you say, “Please. It’s an eyesore.”

“Will that get you to stop complaining?” He asks, mouth twisting up in an amused grin. 

“Nothing can,” you argue back, “I thought you knew that.”

If anything, Lando only seems more pleased by your response. “I’m starting to learn.”

He’s stubbornly unwilling to argue with you. It would be infuriating, but for some reason, it still makes you smile thinking about it hours after you get back home, rubbing your thumb over the beads on the bracelet he strung for you. 

And, when you see him at the paddock for the next race, he’s fucking clean shaven. Not a whisper of a beard in sight. He spots you looking and winks. What the hell. 

It makes no sense. None at all. He doesn’t say a thing about it, and if he won’t, then you can’t either, because you’re not entirely sure that this isn’t just all in your head. Maybe he felt like shaving anyway. Maybe a girlfriend put him up to it or something. This prompts a frantic research session, and after perusing many F1 WAGs Instagram accounts, you’re certain that Lando isn’t dating anyone at the moment. This isn’t important information, of course. You’re just, you know, curious.

You keep the bracelet on. Tucked under a sleeve, always, no one needs to know and least of all Lando, but it stays on. You’re not entirely sure why. Luxury brands have offered you diamonds, but Lando made this for you, and for some reason, that makes it far more valuable in your opinion than anything else. It’s silly, but it’s yours. That’s all.

No one has picked up on the war waging in your head. Your PR manager mentioned once that she was glad you and Lando weren’t actively fighting anymore, and it took you a few moments before you realized she was right. Not only have you stopped sniping at each other in interviews, but a couple races now, he’s actually approached you in the paddock to talk, and what’s more, you’ve let him.

It’s stupid, and unreasonable, and definitely not something you should be devoting so much of your life to thinking about, but now that the seed has been planted in your head, it’s kind of impossible to ignore. Lando gets you water on hot weekends. He helps you avoid Martin Brundle when the commentator is out doing his grid walks. You seek him out to talk through race results. You laugh at each other’s misfortune, but it doesn’t sting like it did before.

He’s insufferable. You love him. 

You love him. 

It’s the first time you’ve admitted as much to yourself. You have a feeling that it won’t be the last. There is much more to you, to him, than just the fighting, so much more that you want to explore and express and linger over, but—

But Lando doesn’t want that, does he? Lando is a spoiled brat, a young Prince Charming who is very used to getting what he wants and not at all acquainted with people contradicting that. It’s why the two of you clashed for the first time. If he had wanted you in any sense of the word other than as an enemy, he would have done something about it at the start.

Even now, the two of you have been drunk in clubs before, have walked back to hotels alone in the middle of the night. If Lando wanted something from you, something more, he could have taken it. He hasn’t, so the awful truth you must admit to yourself if this:  he doesn’t want it at all. He’s studiously neutral, but nothing more than that.

It’s starting to gnaw away at you. Lando isn’t the only one who likes getting what he wants. Now that you’ve stopped hating each other, he’s closer to you than he ever has been, but yet it still isn’t enough. You can stand right next to him, can even lean against his shoulder, but it all means nothing.

It’s infuriating. It makes you act up, act out. Your shared friends on the grid invite you out to some gala, and you go because you know Lando will be there, and you leave early because you want him to follow you out. He does, and you two argue the whole way back, because if you can’t have him as you want, maybe you should push him away. It’ll certainly make things easier.

The two of you are squabbling in the back of the taxi about something unnecessary. Probably something he said and you escalated, if not the other way around. At last, you can’t take the weight of his disapproval anymore, and you ask the driver to let you out. It’s close enough to your hotel that you can walk, anyway. Lando can stay in the car and go back to his place. Problem solved.

It is, at least, until he chases you out of the car as well. He’s saying something about how you need to get back in the car, something about an approaching storm. You look up at the darkening sky and realize what he’s talking about. You had half thought that the distant thunder had been in your own head instead of across the city, but storm clouds are descending upon you now.

Lando shakes his head exasperatedly, hurrying you towards the door of the hotel. It really isn’t that far, but he still threatens to carry you there at least twice. His temper only grows more taut when he starts seeing lightning in the distance. It isn’t even raining here yet, but he doesn’t relax until you’re both through the door and out of harm’s way.

You, on the other hand, only freeze up when the roof is at last over your head. It occurs to you, not three steps into the shelter of the lobby, that your wrist is bare. Underneath your jacket, you reach over to scratch absentmindedly just beneath your other palm, but instead of hitting plastic beads, they touch only blank skin. You freeze in place, gaze swinging wildly to your forearm, but it’s true, the bracelet is gone. You don’t remember it coming off, but it’s gone now.

A frantic search of your pockets reveals nothing; as if they’re deep enough to hold anything, anyway, least of all this all-important thing. The bracelet was on your wrist when you left the cab, so it must have been lost while you were outside. It wouldn’t have been that long ago now. You could still find it.

Lando groans in irritation when you immediately make for the doors once more. “Y/N, come on–”

You’re ignoring him, though. Lando’s going to think the worst of you anyway, and you want your bracelet more than you want his incensed remarks about how it’s such a bad idea to stay out in this weather. The storm is hurriedly dawning upon you, and the trees lining the walkways shake as if with fright or chill, but that doesn’t stop you from retracing your steps, silently praying that you’ll find the one thing you cannot bear to lose. You can buy an awful lot back, misplacing jackets or other jewelry isn’t that big of a deal, but that bracelet– well, Lando only made one of those, and it was yours.

You didn’t walk that far when you were out here, all things considered, so you’re able to pinpoint the possible bracelet locations quickly. Either here, behind the flowering tree, or there, along the stone walkway—

Lando has followed you out, raising his arm over his face to protect from the spattering of raindrops now starting to fall from the sky. “Y/N, come on, I’m serious, we have to go in.”

You hold up a finger, still looking only at the ground. “Just give me a second.”

Lando heaves another tremendous sigh. “What are you even doing?”

“Trying to find something I lost.” You have to raise your voice to be heard over a clap of thunder which, although isn’t necessarily nearby, still makes Lando flinch as if the ominous sound came from overhead. 

“It isn’t worth it,” he says, “we can find it later, I promise. Just get inside, will you?”

“No!” You shout back.

Lando casts a frantic look up at the approaching storm, then rushes over to stand in front of you, blocking you from moving any further. “Y/N, please. What could possibly be important enough to stay out here? You’re going to get struck by lightning.”

You try to escape past him, but Lando stays firm, refusing to budge until you tell him what the matter is. At last, you give in. “Fine. It’s your bracelet, the one you made me. You made it for me, I’m not losing it. You may not like me, not like– Not like I like you, but at least I can have that. That’s what I want.”

Lando’s face goes blank. Whatever he was expecting to hear, it wasn’t that. The naked surprise in his expression makes your stomach twist with shame, and you turn away, headed back to your search once more. Lando was caught off guard by your answer, so he isn’t able to stop you.

You hurry away from him. You don’t know what he’s thinking, or, hell, why he even made you the bracelet in the first place. Maybe it was for a specific reason, but it was probably just supposed to be a joke, something to be used against you, but you kept it anyway. You kept it, and you treasured it like gold.

You run further into the storm, away from him. The rain starts to fall even more than before. Maybe it’s okay, though. If the storm carries you away, if it drowns you in the flood, at least you won’t have to face him again. You look from side to side, searching for any pocket of plastic colors, but nothing, nothing.

Nothing, and then Lando’s voice, faint because of the storm, but still there somehow. Still there, despite everything you’ve said to him.

“I wanted you,” he calls back, shouting to be heard over the ever quickening wind. “I wanted you, but you hated me, and I thought it was better if we were enemies than nothing. At last then I could still talk to you.”

You feel as if you’ve been struck by lightning. The shock of it freezes you in place, even as the rain pounds down in sheets around you, chilling you through skin to bone and blood. It is only now, once your frenzy has been replaced by sheer immobilizing surprise, that you stand still long enough to spot the bracelet at last, tucked inside the cup of a stone on the walkway.

You reach out to pick it up, but your hand meets someone else’s before your fingers can close around the beads. When you look up, it’s him, it’s Lando, just as soaked from the rain as you, but here. Still here. Still here, for you.

He slides the bracelet over your wrist, then leans closer, just enough that you can feel the reverberations of his whispered hurry as he whispers it to you before urging you back towards the hotel once more. He’s pulled off his jacket and holds it above the two of you to protect from the wind and rain. It forces you to run so close to him that you can feel the heat radiating between the slim space from his ribs to yours. 

You feel it still, even after you make it past the threshold of the hotel and stand there, shivering, just behind the glass doors. You can see the storm wild outside– so crazy to think that you’d just been out there, with the wind tearing at the trees and the rain so devastating– but in here, it’s calm, completely still.

Lando remains just a breath away, slowly lowering his dripping jacket away from your head. “It’s you,” he repeats, “It’s always been you.”

After all of that, all of those revelations and discoveries, he still has it in himself to surprise you. The kiss is unexpected, but not unwelcome, and warms you head to toe despite the cold of the rain still pressed deep within your bones. It’s welcoming, inviting, and it tells you that despite everything, every fight, every reason not to stay– it will only get better from here.

f1 taglist: @j-brielmalfoy, @juphey

[sh1-n0bu]

can i request something?? can you do modern relationship with scara??

✿ 𝒊𝒕’𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝑰 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖! ✿

characters: modern!scaramouche x nb!reader

warnings: modern au!!!, fluff, crack, my poor attempt at humor, scara has a bad relationship with his moms, written with high school au in mind, scara being bad at feelings, headcannon format, raiden shogun goes as raiden shino since shogun is a title rather than a name and all…

notes: when that one song u used to religiously listen to when u were younger and cringier suddenly comes rushing back in for a fic idea

oh dear gods, where do we even begin with this one?

tsundere to the max and we all know, his moms knows it, you know it, the entire school knows it, even the online friends he plays games with knows it

which explains on how you knew that scaramouche had a crush on you the moment he started showing small signs of it. waaaaayyyy before he even understood his own emotions and feelings and came to terms with it

safe to say, he is super easy to read. like, a motherfuckin open book that’s full of illustrations made for kids. at least, that’s how it feels to you anyways

has a bad relationship with both of his mothers and his older sister but at least he tolerates his older sister better than his mothers, which is a good thing. at least he has someone to turn to when something goes wrong

him, his mom ei and his older sister are carbon copies of each other alongside his aunt. the first time you went over to scara’s place to prepare for an upcoming exam, you almost got whiplash from just how many similar purple people were there

like… low-key concerning with how you easily mistook his mom ei with his aunt or his older sister with his mom ei

safe to say you made a fool out of yourself for the first few meetings with his family

his other mom, miko, is very… eccentric to say the least. teasing, sly, quick-witted, charming and charismatic. you and scara joke around that miko was a fox or a demon in her former life

his older sister, shino, is quite the sweetheart one the other hand. quiet, reserved, socially awkward and friendly if you go over how her normal face looks so emotionless and dead. reminds you of a soldier or a puppet with how shino is so willing to fulfill ei’s wishes or words to the T

his aunt, baal, is an absolute sweetheart. the ultimate sweetheart actually. such a sweet woman she is with her soft words, warm smiles and motherly affections. she offered you a hand-made cookie when you were about to leave simply because you were scara’s friend!

yes, you cried to the amount of kindness and scara made fun of you for it

you would never peg someone as mean, introverted and arrogant as scaramouche to be friends with the popular, soccer kid from school did ya’? well you are wrong because scara and childe are best friends!!! as childe claims

the ginger-head made a bet with scaramouche saying that you two’s friendship won’t last. cue scaramouche and his over competitive ass coming over and latching himself to you to make sure that your friendship would last

AKA childe’s plan to make scaramouche realize his feelings and come to terms with it has officially started!

likes to occasionally play video games such as wuthering waves, minecraft, resident evil, silent hill etc etc. hates first person shooter games cuz it’s so not his style and he hates the annoying boys that he comes across during the game

will never say it nor mention it but sometimes he plays those ‘using not a single part of your brain’ type of games like playing as dentists or doctors. hell, he even likes to play dress up games from time to time. he just loves the aesthetics and the different designs of the clothes, itches that inner aesthetic lover part of him. but he will NEVER mention it or be caught playing it. scaramouche would rather die

something tells me that his music taste would be more leaning into electronic or scene music. odetari, 6arelyhuman, kets4eki — you name it. sometimes, enjoys those gentle and soothing sounding anime openings too

he has sanrio plushies. more specifically, hello kitty ones

had an obsession with the cute white cat growing up and he never grew out of it

the moment he first found out that you like plushies or pink things or sanrio related things, he knew he gotta gift you anonymous sanrio gifts on your birthday or on special occasions. it was his early stages of courting you

was absolutely appalled when he was found out because whaddaYA MEAN HE LIKES SOFT AND THOSE STUPID PLUSHIES AND SANRIO RELATED THINGS?! NUH-UH, YOU MUST’VE SAW A DIFFERENT PURPLE HAIRED, BOWL HAIRCUT HAVING GUY CUZ SCARAMOUCHE WOULD NEVER LIKE THOSE STUPID THINGS!!!

he aint fooling anyone

takes his relationship slow since he has some big trust issues yet also attachment issues. pick a struggle tbh

had a panic attack after he officially, finally, after years of crushing on you, like literally acting like your boyfriend years later when he asked you out on a date because woohoo!! he asked you for a date \(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/ but also shit, what type of a first date would you like ლಠ益ಠ)ლლಠ益ಠ)ლ

yeah, he had to do something he hated the most. ask his moms and sister for advice

after a lot of talk, discussions, secretly stalking your social profiles or you in general to see what you would like, scaramouche decided to take you out for an arcade date

you two had fun, he was glad you had fun, played bunch of different games together and even managed to win a cute matching plushies and keychains!! kuromi for him and melody for you. he was so glad that you liked it but he won’t say it out loud

walked you home after your first date, to your front door and bid you good night and “hope you had fun tonight, idiot” chu!! on your cheek before making a mad dash back home

the type of boyfriend who would lovingly bully you

“why the fuck are you wearing that? it’s making your stupid face look cuter than normal”

“who in their right mind would choose the green one? yellow looks better on you. no, the soft pastel one, not the bright one you idiot”

“you wanna die? who said i was ever gonna stop loving you after you turn into a roach? i’m gonna keep you in a special glass case until you change back dumbass”

yeah… just say you love them already, scara

your contact name on his phone is literally my idiot٩(╬ʘ益ʘ╬)۶

would lovingly call you names as he leaves soft kisses on your face

“you’re a fucking idiot but it’s fine, you’re my idiot”

[distantdarlings]

BIRTHDAY ANXIETY // m. riddle

RATING: R / 3.3K WORDS

Mattheo Riddle x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* After a particularly difficult day dealing with the constant attention that comes with your birthday, Mattheo helps you to slow down a bit. (Smut, Fluff)

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! Oral - f!receiving, praise, Dom!Mattheo, mentions of anxiety, language, fem reader, not proofread (lmk if I missed any)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

HER - Chase Atlantic

- - -

“Yes, thank you again—you really are too sweet,” you laughed, your throat starting to burn beneath the constant thanking. Your fingers nervously tightened around the small bag in your hands. You wished they would just let you disappear into the common room.

“Have a good rest of your birthday, friend!”

“Thank you,” you smiled, “I’m going to head back to my dorms, okay?” And with a few more waves and some nervous smiles, you found yourself through the common room door. You took a deep inhale, letting it fill every corner of your lungs before letting it out slowly. The intent of it was to calm you, but you reckoned it just made you more nervous.

You felt guilty for thinking it, but sometimes you just wished you didn’t have a birthday. The constant bombardment of attention you hadn’t even asked for in the first place, coupled with the existential panic, knowing that you only got one shot at life and your time was dwindling, made you really upset. Birthdays freaked you out—you couldn’t lie.

You were grateful for the people in your life who cared enough to take a bit of time out of their day to wish you a happy birthday or to grab you a small gift, but you often wished they wouldn’t. That sounded shitty, but you couldn’t help it. If you truly wanted anything on your birthday, it was to be left completely and utterly alone with your spooky, aging thoughts.

The present in your hands had been given to you by Pansy during second period. As soon as she had given it to you, everyone else had to wish you a happy birthday, and thus, all of the attention was brought on to you. It was miserable—like you were suffocating. Consistent self-imposed guilt trips led you to believe you were a terrible person for thinking these things, but you always came back to one thought. That you couldn’t help the way your brain was, the way it functioned. Sometimes, it felt as though your brain was powered by anxiety. It was exhausting.

You power-walked back to the girls’ dormitories and nearly escaped into your room with no more wishes of happy birthday. Thankfully, there was no one else in the dorm room. The peace and quiet bade you welcome to collapse onto your bed, thankful that the day was over. Curiosity led you to finally open the gift from Pansy. It was concealed in a shiny green gift bag with a sparkly, translucent ribbon tied over the handles. It was quite…Pansy, if you’d ever seen something so like her. You smiled a bit at the sweet girl who—despite your constant hopes that she would—never forgot any kind of gift.

You set it between your outstretched legs and pulled the ribbon loose, letting the handles fall open. Inside was a neatly folded knit sweater with a lovely design over the sleeves. Upon further inspection, you noticed that a winding silver snake was added to the sleeves. You supposed it was meant to represent your house. Your stomach flipped in elation. Oh, it was just perfect. What a beautiful, thoughtful gift. You instantly felt ashamed of being so dismissive earlier when she had given you the bag. Hopefully, she knew that you weren’t being rude on purpose; you just hated the attention. Ugh. You felt awful.

You set the sweater at the edge of the bed with the intention of washing it and wearing it the next day. For now, though, you just wanted to rest and maybe pity yourself a bit. Fuck, you were pathetic. You groaned and tossed yourself back against your bed, hoping to fall asleep and just forget all of the events of the day.

A rhythmic knock came upon the door suddenly. Your eyes popped back open. Suppressing a groan, you invited the person in. You hoped it was just a roommate wanting to pass through, but your luck suggested it was another birthday wisher. Be grateful, be grateful, be grateful.

The door pushed open and in walked your boyfriend. A wave of relief washed over you at the sight. His dark curls fell over his eyes as he quirked his eyebrows, a slight smirk popping over his lips. You swore you’d never tire of his smiles.

“Hey, birthday girl,” he said. You groaned and rolled your eyes, your head falling back in disappointment.

“Well, that didn’t seem very exciting,” he chuckled, crossing the floor.

“I swear that’s all I’ve heard today,” you sighed, scootching over so he could take the space next to you. He slid in beside you, one leg crossing over the other. “I just wish I could skip my birthday.”

“I know, darling,” he smiled. “They mean well, though. Don’t you wish people a happy birthday when it’s theirs?”

“That’s a good point,” you shrug, eyes fixated on your hands. You didn’t want to seem ungrateful, it just seemed hard to be totally comfortable with the spotlight on you all day long. Mattheo understood that aspect of you; he always had. That was one of the many reasons you adored him.

“I’m sorry you’ve had a rough day,” he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Can I help you relax?”

You give a small nod and allow him to gently roll you over onto your stomach. With steady breaths and slow movements, Mattheo slips his uniform jacket off, loosens his tie, and removes his shoes. He settled himself over top of the backs of your thighs, applying a small amount of pressure but never bearing his full weight. Ever the gentleman. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted him rolling the sleeves of his uniform shirt up to his elbows. Merlin, you always loved it when he did that. It always showed off his muscular, darkened forearms so perfectly. It just made him look so authoritative and perfect. It placed a small blush in your stomach.

“Let me take your shirt off, darling,” he whispered, his mouth suddenly against your ear. You jumped slightly at the sudden close proximity before nodding at his request. He backed up for a moment to allow you to lean up onto your knees. You begin to pull each button out of its sleeve before his arms wrap around your body. His fingers replace yours in separating the halves of your shirt. His breath is warm and heavy against your bare skin. It elicits shocking chills down the lengths of your arms.

At the sight of the chills lacing your arms, he presses two slow kisses to the side of your neck where it meets your shoulder. You fight the urge to lean your head to one side to allow him more access to you, but you don’t want to seem too needy. He would give you a massage; let him give you one. It didn’t have to be about sex, you scolded yourself.

Once he was done with the buttons, he ever so slowly slid the material off your shoulders and down your arms, being sure to trace his fingertips along your flesh. Whether that was by mistake or not, it twisted a knot in your stomach. Any slight touch would have you begging on your knees, and he knew it. He smirked to himself, hearing your pulse increase. If there was anything that would do him in, it was hearing and seeing the effect he had on you.

“Lay down,” he commanded quietly. You immediately laid back down, your head turning to rest against your pillow. You always listened so well, it made him want you even more. Gradually, he could feel himself becoming more and more needy for you. But he had implied a massage, and he would give one.

Once you were comfortable, he pressed his hands into your back. With expert fingers, he kneaded every knot he could find out of your back. Every time he hit an especially sore area, your lips would part, and a pitiful whine would slip between them. And every time, his pants would continue to get tighter and tighter. The last few times he’d pressed his fingers into your muscles, he’d had to suppress a groan at the sounds coming from you. He wanted nothing more than to be the one making you make those sounds, but for a different reason.

His fingers moved their way down to your lower spine, working each area of tightness loose, ensuring that every ounce of stress was pulled from your body. He wanted to make you feel better in any way he could. His one duty at the moment was to heal you.

“That feels good, baby?” he whispered.

“Yes, Matty,” you groaned. He imagined what this interaction might sound like to any passersby outside, and the thought nearly tipped him over. He was so intent on giving you a massage and nothing else that he’d hardly noticed his hands finally reaching the waistband of your skirt. He rolled his fingers just above it, watching as your spine continued to arch against his hands. His core was painfully hard, the pressure nearly too much to handle. His eyes clenched shut as he bit his lip, trying to gain control over himself. The things you did to him were fucking sinful. And you hadn’t even done anything. You were dangerous.

“I’m going to move down to your legs, sweetheart,” he spoke, waiting for the little nod you did each time. You were perfect.

He moved his hands up and over your ass before hitting the backs of your thickened thighs. As he began to massage his hands over them, he glanced up against the hem of your skirt as the curve of your ass drew it up over itself. The fabric was not long enough to completely stretch over you and stopped just above the start of your thighs. He could just barely make out a pair of laced black bottoms placed taut over your core. Your increasingly wettened core. Shining slick spread over the tiny gap where your thighs met. The fabric of your bottoms was soaked. A devilish smirk slipped over his lips as he realized you wanted him just as badly as he wanted you.

With this newfound knowledge, he intended to tease you a little bit. He wanted to let you know how much he truly cared for you, and he wanted to take his time about it.

Slowly, he worked his fingers ever closer to the tops of your thighs where they met together. With each shift forward, he could see your shoulder clench slightly. Your want was growing darker and darker, and he knew it well. Once he was just an inch away from your core, he lingered there, making sure to get every possible bit of stress out. A quick glance up bore him the visual of your lips parted, your eyebrows furrowed, your fingers tightly gripping the sheets.

“Darling?”

“Mm-hmm?” you whined, your voice cracking a bit. You didn’t change your position in the slightest.

“Get on your knees,” he commanded darkly. You whimpered at the change in his tone, quickly propping your body up. You pushed your ass into the air, keeping your elbows and face planted firmly into the pillows. Finally, he’d taken a bit of initiative to do something for you. You were beginning to worry he genuinely only wanted to give you a massage. Perhaps you should have been a bit clearer in your signals.

Once in position, he wasted no time in flipping your skirt over your hips, letting it fall against your back. You shivered at the sensation, feeling the cool air meet your drenched core with an icy kiss. His warm breath expanded across your flesh, combatting the chill.

“So obedient,” he whispered, a small groan coming from his lips as he massaged the sides of your hips. You sighed at his words, clenching the pillowcases as tightly as you could. You were a few moments away from begging for him.

His thumbs finally curved over your ass, slowly caressing the exposed flesh and eventually coming to trace the line of your bottoms as he curved down to your core. You could barely contain any of the noises seeping from your lips as his fingers drew closer to you. You needed him to touch you so badly.

“Matty, please,” you moaned.

“Please, what?” he teased. A single thumb came down to swipe over your core, his flesh dragging against the wet material covering you. An audible shudder went through your body at the sensation.

“More.”

“Of what, darling? I need you to use your words. Can you do that for me?” he asked, his voice teasing and mean.

“Please touch me,” you whined, arching your back toward him. A small chuckle left his lips before he pressed his thumb to you through your bottoms. The sensation pushed a jolt through your body, causing you to buck your hips against him shamelessly. Despite your desperate movements, his stayed exactly the same. Even pressure, moving in tight circles over you, had you panting. Your consistent begging was not lost on his ears as he began to move his fingers faster, never weakening. He’d do this for the rest of eternity if he could continue to hear your beautiful sounds.

“Please, baby, more,” you groaned into the pillows.

“So greedy…,” he drew the words out as he pulled his fingers away from you, much to your dismay, and began to press slow, open-mouthed kisses down your bare back. As his lips curved over the clasp of your bra, his fingers matched their position. He unclipped the material, letting it fall to either side of you.

Once removed, he replaced your bra with his own hands, massaging your breasts slowly, letting the sensation sink in. You gasped as his remarkably hard core brushed against yours. Surely, that had to be frustrating. Why didn’t he just get on with it already? Why must he always tease?

He released your breasts and traced his fingers down your sides, learning every curve and dip. He watched pridefully as you shuddered against his touch, your body so painfully reactive to him.

Once his fingers reached your hips, he hooked them beneath the waistband of your bottoms and slowly, agonizingly, pulled them down to your knees. Then you were completely bare and exposed to him, every part of you catching the cool air. You moaned slightly at the feeling.

There was but a moment of nothing before he clasped his lips around your core, inducing a strong moan from you. He couldn’t help it; he could barely hold himself back as it was, let alone refuse a taste of you. A taste that he had become so accustomed to in the last while. He was sure that the smell and taste of you would revive him from the dead.

He licked and sucked and kissed, spelling out every bit of his passion, fucking his tongue into you. What he did to your body was sinful. Even the slightest of skims of his flesh on yours had you clutching the sheets. It was pathetic, really. You half-cringed at yourself each time a loud moan poured from you, but Mattheo drew closer and closer to his orgasm each time he heard the beautiful noises. The two of you could not have more different opinions on them.

His hands gripped you tightly in place while his mouth showed no mercy—per usual. With each second, you were growing closer to your end. It felt as though Mattheo wanted you to finish all over his face, the way he was feasting on you like a starved man. The sounds that came from his lips and throat as he pleasured himself against your soaked cunt had you clenching around nothing. Surely, he didn’t mean for you to come this way, did he?

“Fuck, baby,” he moaned against you, the vibrations rattling against you. “Cum on my tongue. I want to taste you.”

Fuck, maybe he did want you to come this way. The thought of him purposefully working you toward your end specifically to taste your arousal was nearly enough to send you over the edge.

“Don’t stop, baby,” you whined, your fingers tightening into his hair, scraping his scalp. “Matty, please!”

“Keep saying my name, sweetheart,” he groaned.

With each second you drew closer to your finish, your thighs tightened around his head and your core gushed more and more against his lips. His flesh was raw and painted with you, but he couldn’t care less. All he wanted was for you to come against his face with your fingers in his hair and his name on your tongue. He wanted the whole of Slytherin house to know who you belonged to.

“Baby,” you breathed, your voice becoming high-pitched and pitiful. “M-Matty, I’m gonna c—”

“Cum,” he commanded, his mouth placing one last languorous suck against your core. Your back arched off of the mattress, Mattheo’s name printed on your lips, and passing from every exit. The product of your arousal spilled from you and onto his tongue, which he accepted graciously.

Once you’d finally relaxed and come down off of your high, Mattheo leaned forward and, with complete eye contact, brushed the remnants of your finish off of his chin and licked it off of his fingers.

“Precious material,” he whispered. A tired giggle erupted from you at his words. When he collapsed down next to you and wrapped his arms around you, you thought you’d found the last comfortable place on earth.

In Mattheo’s arms, nobody could get to you, not even the purest of well-wishers. After the entirety of your evening was spent with Mattheo fucking you like only he could, you still found yourself slipping back into a guilty mindset. A sigh left you.

“Still upset?” he whispered against your hair, lips brushing your forehead.

“I just feel guilty,” you said, “I don't want any of these people thinking I’m not grateful. I love gifts, it’s just…”

“Well,” he started. “It’s a good thing you like gifts.”

He leant himself up and reached down over the side of the bed. You pushed yourself to a sitting position to watch as he dug through the pockets of his jacket. In a few seconds, he’d produced a small box, wrapped in green paper, much like Pansy’s. A flush grew on your cheeks.

“Mattheo,” you breathed. You took the gift into your hands. “What on Earth is this?”

“Darling, despite how much you hate the attention, it’s still your birthday,” he chuckled, urging you to open it.

With a small breath, you slipped the top of the gift box up and noticed a small tag on the inside with your name written in Mattheo’s quick scrawl. Beneath the tag, was a small bundle of tissue paper. You felt your pulse increasing by the minute.

With shaking fingers, you unraveled the small amount of tissue paper to reveal an almost complete replica of Mattheo’s ring with a slight feminine touch to it. You gasped, tears pooling.

“Merlin, how much was this?” you asked without thinking. Panic set in at the thought of him spending any amount of money on you. Then you realized it was rude to ask about cost. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“Baby, it’s okay,” he laughed. “No material costs could ever outweigh you.” You watched as he pulled it from your hands and gently slid it on your finger.

“There, now everyone will properly know that you’re mine,” he said, smirking.

“I thought you liked to mark me up for that,” you teased. A streak of pride pooled in your stomach as his eyes darkened significantly at your words. You knew that, without a doubt, there was no way you were getting out of this with just one round.

*Tag List: @lilymurphy03 @mypolicemanharryyy @angelfrombeneth @clairesjointshurt @bunbunbl0gs @acornacreacure @niktwazny303 (if you would like to be added to the tag list, please comment on this post, send me a dm, or message in my inbox. Thanks!)

[normal-enderman]

I tend to care about taking a more realistic approach to Riptide in terms of resource management ect, so here's some random thoughts about clothes.

(minor spoilers up to episode #87)

Space management is important on a ship, so pirates tend to stick the essential clothing pieces, and change and wash them less than the average land-dweller.

Pirates don't smell great. This is just something you have to accept.

(except Gillion. Gillion smells of fish and salt and seaweed and the ocean, and never smells sweaty because he doesn't sweat in the human sense, he's just always moist)

Pre episode #87:

Chip has one shirt and one pair of trousers. When he needs to wash them, he will just walk around shirtless or in his underpants depending on what item is being washed. even for a pirate, this is a bit excessive.

he has like three pairs of underpants and he washes them concerningly infrequently

Jay has a change of clothes - she has a spare shirt and trousers, 2 bras that she alternates between, and several pairs of underpants. This is closer to the regular amount of clothes you would expect a pirate to have

After Chip lost his shirt in Allport, he borrowed Jay's spare one since I refuse to imagine him shirtless for the entire Feywild arc. My boy would be cold! :(

Jay is overall the most well-groomed due to her Navy upbringing. However, this isn't something she enjoys - more like something that she feels obligated to do. She finds washing her clothes a pain, and doesn't mind not smelling great or being dirty. As a kid she always hated washing and wearing uncomfortable clothes. As she spends more time on the pirate ship, she becomes less well-put-together and starts to drift more towards a Chip-level of cleanliness - though she promises herself she will never stoop quite as low as him. It's a matter of pride.

She does pick up his habit of walking around shirtless or in her underpants when she can't be bothered to get dressed / it's too hot / whatever. It's a pirate ship, social norms don't matter. Everyone on the ship is family and no-one cares.

She stops wearing bras when they are not on land for the same reason. However, when they come to land, she does make a concerted effort to make herself look socially acceptable and conform to standard norms regarding dress, since she knows this will get them a better reception with the land-dwellers they interact with.

Gillion's was raised to be well-groomed, but didn't have a chance to pack a change of clothes when he was kicked out of the Undersea. His clothes are stiff and encrusted with salt from all the time he spends in the water. There isn't as much of a need to wash items of clothing in the Undersea, as they are in water the whole time, and stains don't show up in the underwater gloom unless they're extremely obvious. Chip and Jay teach him how laundry works easily enough, and Gillion employs a similar strategy to Chip. However, he washes his clothes less frequently than they do as they are always being resubmerged in water anyway.

Post episode #87:

They finally get Gillion a change of clothes. He has an alternate shirt and trousers.

Since they have a bigger ship by this point, the crew has space for a few more fun/luxury items of clothing that aren't for everyday wear. Only a few - ie one special shirt - but it's still nice to have.

(Gillion has an emo band T-shirt) (yes they have emo bands in the fantasy world of Mana) (come on we all know at this point that the world doesn't conform to a consistent time period)

Jay realises she hates her current clothes because the starched sleeveless shirts she has been wearing, though they have become far less starched after a year of heavy use and improper wear, are very scratchy on her skin. She buys two softer woolen sleeveless shirts instead (ie the ribbed design a lot of the fanart of her features). She gives the old shirts to Chip

Chip buys the coat, which keeps his shoulders warm, and so he often prefers to go shirtless to show off his tattoos. However, he will wear Jay's old shirts when his tits get too cold.