#pattern is so underrated

[lightning-on-water]

[kyurochurro]

✨🎸🎶 1990 PAUL!! I love this photo so much I just had to draw it!!

[mothhue]

A hat under waters: Alpine Horizon!

Yayy it's the funky goat chapter ]:)

Link to AHUW masterpost

[borgialucrezia]

that euphoric feeling when you bring something new to the table (whether it's a criminally underrated character, ship, etc.) and continuously write meta and create content for it and after a while, your mutuals start posting about it as well and tell you that you’re the reason they began to like that character/ship <3

[soullessjack]

oh my god like. the stark contrast between mob’s inner self — saying that everyone around him held him back, everyone was afraid of him, everyone treated him differently, everyone only saw him as something to use and that he was never accepted by anyone at any point; that he would never be accepted for who he really internally feels he is — vs all of mob’s friends and family repeatedly saying “we aren’t scared of you because we know you and we love you, this is just a part of you that we can live with and accept,”— not to mention reigen fully admitting that he was using mob and apologizing for it, as well as telling mob that the only person who really needs to accept mob is himself..? It’s just. It’s so good man

[pumpkinhcad]

HAMMY'S POSTING. Y'know, between the possessed Happy Fella in SM4, Spectra telling him about monsters being able to be ghosts and zombies without going through the entire DYING process, and the Boos bullying him, I think my Pump is not really a fan of ghosts lmao. They're getting on his nerves.

[jemmo]

I may have had to rip out 30 rows on the body and sleeves after blocking bc they were too long and re-do all the ribbing, but it was worth it bc she cute

[t-u-i-t-c]

losing it over tsurugi having stinger make lucky his new jacket and how it matches tsurugi's

[spearxwind]

I think it's sad that most people always think of bottlenoses as the "classic dolphin" since its the one that's always used for shows, and always think of dolphins as just straight grey when in reality there's so many varieties with so many different amazing patterns

Look at the common dolphin! They have a gorgeous X pattern and even some dull yellow/gold!!

Hourglass dolphins have gorgeous white streaks

Spinner dolphins have really pretty banding as well, AND they have a really sleek cute silhouette!

The atlantic spotted dolphin!!! Theyre spotted!!!!!!

and the pantropical spotted too!!

Dusky dolphins have a gorgeous airbrush look going on like straight out of a 2000s fantasy illustration

Striped dolphins sure have stripes!! How cool!!

And these I've shown you aren't even all of them at all, there are so many of them:

There's so so so many different types of dolphins people dont know about this isnt even all of them and some are SO gorgeous and underrated because people just dont know they exist so I'm here to fix that

[ottoline-otter]

i've decided i'm gonna challenge myself to make a crochet ottoline otter doll

[itaipava]

— forms of non-sexual intimacy with f1 boys.

˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS

kind of intimacy where you guys do things together that lead to inside jokes and private memories; a beautiful feeling of closeness that comes from working in unison. sometimes it's so subtle and unexpected, it's like the two of you lose your way going somewhere the two of you have never been and one is responsible for the driving and the other for the navigation. maybe a bit of a fight here and there, but both  still working together to reach your destination and knowing you’re never really lost as long as the other is around.

˒ ⌕ GEORSE RUSSELL

kind of intimacy where actions speak louder than words. making - or at least trying - each other's lives a little easier, a little lighter, a little smoother, a little prettier, and a little more bearable. having breakfast ready so you don't forget it when you're in a hurry. wash and dry dishes together after dinner. leaving little love notes in your things to make you smile. the little things he would do only for those he is really close to.

˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ

his favorite form of intimacy is where the two of you give each other undivided and unique attention when you're together; being as busy as he is and having a lot to think about, there's something so beautiful and comforting about focusing on just one person: you. that means ignoring notifications and anything that bothers him aside when he's with you. leaving certain places earlier to spend more time with you. looking adoringly into each other's eyes at random moments where you can swear there are only the two of you in the world.

˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC

distracted physical touches, usually out of habit. when you are watching tv; he reaches out and strokes your hair, plays with your earlobes, or nudges you gently with his foot. and even when you are in public or with other people, he finds himself playing with your hands, your fingers, tracing patterns on your palm or the back of your hand with his thumb, all while casually conversing with another person.

˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON

bathing together; the form of intimacy in which you fully discover yourself and can appreciate every physical aspect while sharing a genuine and loving atmosphere. him gently washing your body with care and delicacy, as if he had all the time in the world to discover every little universe hidden in your body; he leaves soft kisses on your shoulder and neck as he washes your hair, which makes you smile because together with the little ripples of hot water they tickle your skin. being totally comfortable in each other's presence is what he's always wanted for the two of you since the beginning, and seeing your love growing every day makes his heart race with happiness in his chest.

˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI

the form of intimacy that grows on common interests and activities. for him, there's nothing quite like coming together because of a mutual love for a particular tv show, or during an animated monopoly game or mobile games, or an underrated book. thinking about each other whenever see or hear about it. simple but precious memories resulting from losing sleep because you were too excited at that show or playing together all night.

˒ ⌕ LIAM LAWSON

the kind of intimacy that only grows and flourishes with time, the true meaning of “making life” together. the kind where the two of you help each other grow in every aspect of life; supporting and rooting for each other's victory but also being there and taking care of each other in defeats. it's when you start to know each other's thoughts, times and patterns as if there is an invisible bond that grows each day between the two of you; like it always connects the two of you even when you're not physically together. it's the form of intimacy where you only know and understand each other on a very deep level.

˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN

a kind of pure, genuine intimacy that encourages each other; listen to each other's dreams, fears, stories and secrets without judgment and show that no matter what, you will be there for each other. always cheering and supporting each other's hobbies, which always makes your heart warm to remember that someone is genuinely rooting for you and that even if you fail, that person will not give up on you.

[neverthatsirius-jo]

jo!!!!! hey hey hey congrats on 200 that is soooo amazing!!! also i am in love w ur celebration it is so creative!!!!

could i request james potter with evading eye contact / friends to lovers, and my song was 'staying down low' by angie mcmahon (an underrated aussie artist who grew up near me!) everything else is up to u to work ur magic!! <3

thank u and congrats again!!! <333

| STAYING DOWN LOW ⊹₊⟡⋆

“In which you’ve been ignoring James for a few days but he’s dead set on getting you out of the sad haven you’ve made of your apartment.”

pairing: james potter x fem!reader

genre: hurt/comfort

w/c: 2.4k

tags: muggle au, friends to lovers, mentions of depression, reader is falling into a depressive episode again, mentions of not eating (because of depression but there are no mentions of an ed)

jo’s note: for the precious gia!! <3333 i hope you like what i concocted, i had a good time writing it in a not so good time. sort of therapeutic this writing fics thing. also, i don’t??? hate??? this??? fic??? which might be a first for me and the fic being so self-indulgent may have played a part in this. but anyway, the lovers part of the friends to lovers isn’t really here so i'm totally up to do a second part maybe in the future?? if you, gia, want it or anyone else (will probably do it just for myself anyway heh).

Seven knocks in a familiar rhythmic pattern on the door and you don’t need to see out the peephole to know who it is. Usually you would open it without thinking twice about it but today you’re not sure you want to. There are clothes scattered across the floor, dishes from the last couple of days in the kitchen sink, and you can’t remember when was the last time you vacuumed even superficially. You would rather the sight that was your living stay between it and yourself.

And that’s not even talking about your state, which, now that you think about it, could be worse. You had actually managed to get out of bed to take a shower today. Though if you were to be frank, you’d only done it to make up for the hour you were ashamed to admit you had woken up at. That way at least you could at least say you had crossed something off the mental list of things you imagine a functional human being doesn’t have to think twice to do, but for some reason seem damn near impossible to you. 

“I can hear you’re in there!” He calls out from the hall when you accidentally knock out a stack of books with your foot from the sofa when doubling over to reach the remote. “Open up.”

You throw your head back, as you consider leaving him out there for your next-door neighbour to deal with: a grumpy eighty-year old lady who, in her own words, ‘has seen too much shit to have to keep dealing with it at this point of life’.

It’s only a matter of time if he keeps shouting outside your door at nine PM before she comes out to kick him out with a sweeper.

“James, go away before Mrs Thomas kindly sees you out.”

You hear the sound of James messing with the lock. Which is weird, because he doesn’t have a key so you assume he’s trying to jam it, unsuccessfully. 

At least you hope unsuccessfully, otherwise you would be worried about who else could open your door if James does.

“You!” Mrs Thomas yells. You swear you can see the stack of glasses in front of you tremble, cartoon-style.

“Fuck!” You jump from the sofa, throwing the three blankets you had on you behind you, which suddenly you recognize as a bad idea, given the only thing you’ve had to eat today was a few pieces of cereal deep at the bottom of the box from the last time you had gone out to run errands. 

“Mrs Thomas! It’s me!” You hear three bangs against what you hope is the wall and not James’ head in the three seconds it takes you to overcome the dizziness. “You know me!”

“Only thing I know is this is not your flat!”

“It is my friend’s flat!” 

“So why are you trying to break in?!”

“I’m not trying to b—”

You fling open the door and you grab James who was leaning against it by the elbow so he doesn’t crash into you. “Mrs Thomas, it’s alright—”

“This disrespectful young man was trying to break into your home! I don’t know if to rob you, or even murder—”

“Alright, Mrs Thomas—That’s a bit—” You interrupt her passionate monologue when you see her swing her new weapon of choice. A bright yellow umbrella apparently.

“You never know these days!”

James flinches when she absent-mindedly swings the umbrella too close to his leg for comfort.

“I was just taking a nap, I didn’t hear him knocking,” you explain. 

You make yourself small under her scrutinizing gaze. “At this hour?”

“Okay, let’s go inside now.” James leads you inside by your waist, eager to get out of Mrs Thomas' sight and her umbrella.

After the door closes under your neighbours’ gaze, you turn around to shake your head at him, self-consciously trying to flatten the mess that your hair is.

“What the hell, James?”

You walk past him, clenching and unclenching your hands, crunching imaginary peanut shells between them. You’re not mad. You’re embarrassed; but you’d rather he think of the first option.

“Can you blame me?”

“Trying to break into my house?” You hiss out, in fear that Mrs Thomas is listening from outside.

“You didn’t answer your phone, what did you want me to do?”

“Do I break into your house when you don’t answer a text?”

The way he looks at you projects all his worries directly onto you and you wish you hadn’t said what you did. He doesn’t dare speak them out loud, maybe out of respect for you but it stings just the same as if he had because you know he’s right.

“I wanted to be left alone for a while,” you mutter, with the demeanor of a puppy whose owner just yelled at them for gnawing on the carpet.

“I know, and that’s exactly the problem.” 

He laughs but it lacks any of his usual light, matching your living room whose only light source comes from a streetlamp down on your street.

“That I needed some personal space?”

“Last time you needed ‘personal space’ you didn’t come out of this apartment for months. I didn’t hear from you for months. You…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, he seems just as uncomfortable to talk about your last depressive episode as you are to be confronted with it. 

“James, it’s not like that.” You give him half a smile like he’s being the equivalent of a mother asking you to take your jacket when there’s twenty five degrees celsius outside. He’s silly for worrying. 

He gestures in circles to his surroundings. “Well, this is taking me back to a time I’d rather not go back to.”

Your cheeks burn. “You don’t need to worry about that, I—”

“I do worry. I do worry,” his words come out harsher than his intention means them to but you know it’s out of frustration and not personal in a way that matters, “You’re my friend and I worry.”

He’s now prancing around the room, picking up books and random objects and placing them in random spaces. He gets more than half of them surprisingly where they belong, product of the time he spends at your apartment.

“And I appreciate that—”

“You can stay for a bit at my place. You can bring a bag now and we can come for more of your stuff later.” 

“James.”

“Basic stuff. Pyjamas, toothbrush, a couple changes of clothes…” 

“James.”

“I have the pullout couch so that won’t be a problem.”

“James!”

The change in your tone wakes him up from his brainstorming and he stops on his feet.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m fine.”

“Alright, then. I’ll stay here.” He slumps down on the couch. There’s not an ounce of humour in his face.

“You’re not babysitting me.”

“You can always kick me out, but I’ll set up camp outside your door, maybe bring a sleeping bag and I don’t think Mrs Thomas will be a big fan of that so unless you want me arrested… I’m giving you options.”

“I’m an adult.”

“Good for you.”

“So you can go home, drink some tea to calm yourself and we can meet up another day.”

He makes a popping sound with his lips while he shakes his head. His feet are now on your coffee table and he expects you to take that as his answer.

“Get your feet off of there.” You strut over to his side and try to kick them off with your knee. 

He sticks the tip of his tongue in a childish gesture. It gets a laugh out of you and his eyes brighten up as he looks up to see it for himself.

“It’s raining outside, your shoes must be disgusting.”

When he doesn’t budge, you resort to the much more drastic solution of trying to kick him off. 

“I’ve been doing a lot of leg days at the gym. Watch out.” He pulls up the hem of his joggers to show you his calves.

“You look like a chicken.”

“Okay, ouch.” He pokes at his leg with two of your fingers to prove something. “Me, personally, I’ve never seen a chicken with these bad boys.”

“Don’t ever refer to your legs like that again.” You squint your eyes, cringing.

“Don’t ever call me a chicken again and I’ll think about it.”

“Fair, deal.” You sigh.

You slump down on the couch next to him, kicking off your slippers which end up on top of one of the many piles of clothing.

“You’ve eaten today?” he asks, his tone taking a sweeter tone. 

He’s now a man approaching a stray, holding out his hand to earn its trust, ready to jerk it right back in case it decides to bite.

You twiddle with your thumbs. “Yup.” You’re not up for biting, but lying has gotten you quite far before.

“What did you eat?”

You swallow the ‘What is this? An interrogation?’ down and look at the coffee table for an answer. “Ordered some pizza.” You point to the empty greasy box next to his feet. 

He sits up and goes to grab it, when you snatch it immediately.

“It’s okay, I’ll throw it.”

“I wanna see where it’s from.” He knows your habits too well and you know that's not the reason. 

“Alessandro’s.”

You go to get up, slower this time having learnt your lesson earlier, but he grabs your arm and snatches the box from you before you can go throw it in the kitchen bin, and with it the incriminating receipt atop that dates the purchase to a few days ago. 

You fight back, kicking him lightly, nervously laughing your way through it to pretend you’re just playing. He doesn’t laugh until he starts tickling you to make you release the grip you have on the box. He gets it for a second but you lounge at him, sitting on top of his thighs. He grabs your wrists and it is almost tangible the way the air changes around you. 

The fight is over. Neither of you move. 

“Just tell me,” he whispers, his voice as soft as his eyes. He’d rather hear the truth from you, even if he already knows it.

He holds you tighter when you go to move away from him.

“You already know, James.” You smile sadly.

“That’s okay.” He pats the side of your thighs. “Come on.”

He sets you aside on the couch and gets up himself to go to the kitchen. You try to follow him but he holds up a hand without even turning around. 

“Stay there. I got it.”

And you stay. For about two minutes before staring at the ceiling stops being entertaining and your feet take you to his side as if by on their own.

“Hey.” He smiles sideways, stirring the contents of a can of tomato sauce you always had in the pantry in case of emergencies.

“You’re depleting my food supply in case of a zombie apocalypse,” you joke, sinking your chin into his shoulder to look at his cooking, hands intertwined behind your back.

“Don’t worry.” He reaches back to play with your hair; you close your eyes. “I’ll restock.”

You open your mouth to say something but he beats you to it.

“I’m making some for myself too. Hope you don’t mind.” He throws the last sentence nonchalantly, but the truth is he knows you’d rather not eat alone. 

He knows you too well. It’s eerie, or so Sirius is used to saying with a grimace to go along with it, like a child who sticks out their tongue when people kiss in movies.

“Pass me the pasta?” He asks, nodding in its direction.

You reluctantly peel away from him to help and hand him the box. You laugh at the spring-shaped illustration of the pasta.

“I love these. They’re my favourite.”

“I know that.” He turns to look at you, all cocky.

There are quite a few beats of silence, but not the uncomfortable kind. Never with James.

He coughs; he wants to say something. “You know, if you want to talk to me I’m here.”

“I don’t.” For the first time tonight, your answer it’s not defensive, or filled with anger. It just is.

You’re not closed off to talking. Tonight just isn’t the night and James understands.

“Pass me the strainer.”

He finishes serving two plates. One for you because you need it, and one for him which he will push through after having already had dinner.

“I’m letting you pick the film for the second time in a row,” he hisses, skipping to the couch to set down the hot bowl of pasta that’s burning his hands.

“How chivalrous.”

You put your favourite film on, and this time he doesn’t tease about the number of times you have made him watch it with you. You can see his smile tremble with the effort not to.

“Twentieth,” you remind him.

“Thank you.” He taps your bowl with two of his knuckles to remind you of the food, eyes already glued to the screen.

You eat in silence, contrary to your usual movie nights where you can’t seem to shut up and stop making up commentary out of thin air, only the film for ambience and the occasional deep inhale from James before shoving the fork in his mouth.

“You don’t have to eat if you’ve had dinner, James. It’s fine,” you laugh.

He looks at you like you just told him there’s a pink elephant in your bathroom. “I haven’t had dinner. I’m ravenous. Starving. Famished.”

You roll your eyes. “Have it your way.”

The film ends and in part so does the heaviness in your heart.

“We’re going shopping tomorrow. I need a new pair of jeans; my legs are getting too big with all this gym,” he states once he finishes his plate and wipes some sauce off his lip. “And we can’t have you depriving the world of seeing that beautiful face.” He flicks your chin with the napkin, getting some sauce on your face.

“Ugh, I hate you.” You throw your head back, leaning it against the sofa.

“I’m okay with that. You’ll learn to love me in due time,” he says. “Everyone does.”

He smiles. It’s contagious and he traces the reflection of his smile on your lips with his finger; a treasure to be committed to memory.

thank you for reading, reblogs and replies are appreciated <3

back to masterlist

[itgirldraco]

do you have any fic recs?

yes!! so many!! please check the tags for each!

all time favorites:

way down we go: an absolute classic. werewolf harry, chronically ill utterly miserable draco, post-war in small town america. enemies to lovers slowburn with protective harry and hopelessly gay draco.

in hopes that you may drown: SO much of my art is based on this author's harry and draco. such a lovely fic. post-war, draco raising delphi and absolutely perfecting the stressed yoga mom vibe. harry is instantly smitten.

in our blood: about haunted houses, parenthood and growing to care for each other. I love this one.

you'll still find stone: arranged marriage. draco expects the worst and harry is an absolute sweetheart. angst but so heartwarming. (mind the tags!!)

ANYTHING by corvetteclaire! their blood link and in the mirror series are severely underrated and genuinely took my breath away. some of my favorite writing and plots.

inside grey eyes: so so beautiful. quite dark and yet exceptionally hopeful. all about draco's recovery from a nightmare situation and harry's unending support. (mind the tags!!)

anything by tessa crowley!! an absolute gem in the fandom with an impressive variety of works.

the mirror of ecidyrue series: perfection.

in your arms, rests my world: “You make me feel safe, Potter. You keep me safe.” yeah..yeah. (mind the tags!!)

anything by toxik_angel tbh..one of my favorites is infairitance even though it’s incomplete; fairy draco is a game changer

oxytocin: angst, angst, angst, and so much cuddling. slowburn in the best way possible.

Soup-pocalypse and The Great Curry Cataclysm: i read this some time ago but i remember adoring it.

Diffraction Patterns (I Don't Know How to Forget You): another incredible old read .

everything by beloved @rockingrobin69 !! this is one my favorites ever i never stop thinking about it

fluff/humor:

manlet: PLEASE read this one! so so cute and adorable and hilarious ft sweet giant harry and tiny angry draco and wickedly funny narcissa. will definitely open your eyes to small draco.

screw you: extremely funny and extremely hot.

like a star across my sky: SUCH a good fic! feels like a romcom.

title of their sex tape: as funny as it sounds.

flirt: really sweet. disaster flirty draco and awkward yet charmed harry.

married to a brute (ongoing): genius and hilarious

smut:

it beats me black and blue: absolute perfection. no notes.

let me roll it: so delicious. clueless mess draco and grumpy harry who hates everyone except draco.

his little something: size difference excellence

scenes of surrender: a combination of smut, love, recovery and caretaking

a perfect fit: hung harry and size queen draco

come up for air: veela draco

fawning for you: harry is completely obsessed with draco's videos. very cute, muggle setting.

burning the ground: creature fic

ongoing/other faves:

one elephant at a time (ongoing): i recommend this fic to EVERYONE. genuinely incredible. think yellow wallpaper, jane eyre, crush by richard siken, and the author mentions being inspired by my dark vanessa as well. so essentially a modern romance with a dark gothic backstory. every single sentence in this fic stands out to me. every characterization, every conversation, is just so honest and genuine. also!! draco has a cat called lady di!! and he loves to wear earrings! (mind the tags!!)

within the hollow crown: more of pre-drarry tbh. such an interesting plot!! harry grudgingly cares for an increasingly spiraling draco who is except under close and constant watch by the dark lord-every second of his sixth year. currently has an ongoing sequel.

imperfection (ongoing): another fic by robin! and another of my all time favorites, so so lovingly written and so tragic and lovely and heartbreaking. really digs into draco's psych and his manic mindset and constant spiral BUT there is light at the end of the tunnel and so much love surrounding him even though it's hard for him to see it. (mind the tags!!)

saviour series (ongoing): wouldn't necessarily call this drarry? more of a stockholm syndrome gothic novel type of fic but i recommend it all the same. the writing is truly extraordinary and the pacing is incredible. will leave you breathless. part one is complete. (mind the tags!!)

perspective series (ongoing): the original books with alpha harry, omega draco in gryffindor, and an adorable friendship dynamic between the golden trio and draco. really sweet, and super interesting. no romance as of yet but there are little moments.

tales of the potters: very interesting take on the arranged marriage trope! i recommend all of this author's works; they have a gorgeous way with words and their work really brings harry and draco to life.

the veiled boy (ongoing): one of the most intriguing recent fics i've read. really delves into character dynamics in such a realistic and refreshing way and draco is so endearing in it. every chapter has gorgeous illustrations.

never in extremity: reread this one recently. equal parts heartbreaking and heartwarming. (mind the tags!!)

[rosierin]

i used to love him | suna rintarou

synopsis; (y/n) talks about her feelings towards suna, from childhood to current day.

suna's pov here

this fic is part of the off-season quartet™ series! for more, click here :)

I used to love him.

Not in a way you plan for. It just sort of… happened.

It was cute, honestly. Innocent. Simple. The kind of thing people call puppy love. At least, that’s how I’ve always seen it. Loving him came as easily as breathing, or blinking. It was quiet but constant—something that made the world feel a little brighter. Something worth waking up for. A little secret joy that sat behind everything else, like music playing faintly in the background of a really good day.

I think it started when we were around ten, in elementary school.

We were kids who got along without even trying. The ones who sat in the corner at birthday parties, trading sweets instead of dancing. The kind that didn't need to fit into larger friend groups. We were happy so long as we had each other, perfectly content as just a little duo.

Rin didn’t talk much—still doesn’t, actually.

He was my opposite in every way.

Quiet. Aloof. A little standoffish. I’m pretty sure people called him “the weird kid,” which—yeah, he kind of was. He never really made the effort to make friends. Usually ate alone during lunch. Would rather work solo than in group projects.

I don’t really know why I approached him first… I guess I must’ve found him mysterious or something. Like maybe he was just pretending not to care, and I wanted to see if I could crack it.

I still remember our first proper conversation.

We were sitting next to each other during lunch, and I noticed Pokémon Platinum poking out of his backpack. I’m pretty sure I went into a full-on tangent that day, rambling about how Sinnoh was my favourite region and which Pokémon were criminally underrated.

I always laugh when I think about it. He must’ve been like, “Who the hell is this nutcase and why is she all up in my face?”

But I mean—he couldn't have been that bothered since he sat through the whole thing. Nodded along. Never looked away. Even at the time, I remember being weirdly struck by how good he was at eye contact.

He couldn’t have been that shy, then, I thought.

And clearly he wasn’t as anti-social as everyone said, because after that? We were inseparable. I’m not sure how it happened—though I’m almost certain I planned it—but before long I was going to his house nearly every weekend. We’d play DS together. Have sleepovers. We'd even share a bed.

He wasn’t chatty like me. But that never bothered me. I was more than happy to do enough talking for the both of us. I think even as a kid, I liked his silence. It meant I could ramble about whatever I wanted without worrying if I was being too much.

Rin never made me feel like I was too much.

Never told me to be quiet. Never told me to go away.

And somehow, despite being nothing like me, Rin quickly became my favourite person.

I remember sitting by the school gates before class, tracing patterns into my shoelaces while I waited for him.

Even if he was late.

Especially if he was late.

Even when he was sick, I’d wait for at least an hour, just in case he'd show up. (I sound kinda crazy now that I say it out loud.)

I always gave him the green highlighter. I think I told him it didn’t suit me. Told him it matched his eyes. (It did. I've always like his pretty eyes.)

Everyone called us a duo. Not in a weird way—more like we just made sense together. Wherever one of us went, people expected the other.

And honestly? I liked that.

I liked when teachers asked, “Where’s (y/n)?” or “Where’s Rin?” whenever one of us was missing.

I liked being his other half. Loved being his person.

And maybe that’s where it all started.

In the little things. The small, unnoticed spaces where love begins to grow—before you even have the words for it.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

I think I really knew when we were around thirteen, in middle school.

I started getting nervous around him—even though I never had before. And for the stupidest reasons, too.

My hands got all fidgety and clammy when we talked. My words jumbled. I noticed how close we sat. I noticed the way our hands brushed when we walked side by side. The way his arm felt warm when it pressed against mine during class. I noticed how much I noticed.

Rin's always been big on eye contact when he talks. It’s something I love now. But at thirteen? It was terrifying. I used to look away when he held my gaze too long, like I was going to combust or something.

It was that kind of crush. The teen rom-com kind. The hair-twirling, feet-kicking, doodling-his-name-in-your-notebook kinda love. Sweet, harmless, a little naïve.

I remember doing some pretty cringe stuff. Like trying to mould myself into his exact type.

If he complimented another girl’s outfit, you better believe I’d show up the next week wearing something eerily similar. Oh—he liked a certain perfume? I ordered it off Amazon that same night.

There was even this one time he mentioned he liked the “sporty girl” archetype in anime. And after that, I wore a ponytail. Every single day. No exceptions. Sometimes I’d even throw on a dad cap on weekends, just to really play the part.

It was embarrassing, honestly. And so painfully obvious. (Even though thirteen-year-old me probably thought I was being subtle.)

And yet, Rin never said a thing. Nothing changed. He never pulled away... but he never leaned closer, either.

I’m almost certain he knew. He had to know. I guess he just didn’t see me that way. Which was totally fine, for the record. No pressure. So I kept smiling. Kept laughing at his jokes. Kept pretending I wasn’t in love with him.

And for the most part? That was fine by me.

I was content loving him quietly. Just appreciating his company. Daydreaming in secret. Hoping, a little—but mostly just accepting whatever it was we had going on.

And eventually… it started to fade.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

We started high school at fifteen. Same school, of course.

Choosing a high school was, at the time, the most stressful decision of my life. I genuinely thought if I made the wrong choice, I’d ruin everything. Like, full meltdown. I cried twice and made it everyone's problem.

(Spoiler alert: it wasn’t that deep.)

I considered just staying local. The town school was fine. Definitely the safer and easier option. But then Rin got scouted by Inarizaki’s volleyball coach, and that was it for me. End of story. Because going to a different school than Rin?

No way. That was... unequivocally, out of the question.

Going to a different school than him wasn’t just unappealing—it was impossible. I’d told him back in middle school that I’d follow him wherever he went, and I meant it. (I don’t think he believed me at the time, but he should’ve known better.)

My parents weren’t too fussed about it. In fact, when I mentioned Rin was going too, they were relieved and said something like, “ Well if Rin’s there, we know you’ll be fine.” Which… fair enough. They trusted him almost as much as I did.

Still, moving to a new region, staying in dorms, living away from home for the first time? It was a lot. I was excited, but also terrified. Everything was new and unfamiliar—new teachers, new routines, new slang I had to Google in secret.

But Rin was still Rin.

Still my person. Still the one I sat next to during orientation. Still the one I went to when I got homesick.

We weren’t just fine. We were solid.

We had different classes, sure. Different schedules at times. But it didn’t matter. We still ate lunch together. Walked back to the dorms together. Watched anime on his laptop together. Nothing between us had really changed. And that alone made everything else feel manageable.

It wasn’t long before I started watching him play.

Volleyball had always looked good on him. His movements were sharp, calculated and effortless. Watching him on the court made me feel oddly proud, even though I had nothing to do with it.

Eventually, I asked to meet the team. I always saw them after practice so I figured, why not? He agreed, of course. Told me they were all "pretty cool".

That’s when I met the Miya twins.

And honestly? My first impression? Pretty 50/50.

I'll let you guess which twin was my favourite.

(Spoiler alert: it wasn't Atsumu.)

Atsumu was loud, cocky, and honestly a little insufferable. He was your typical jock. A frat boy in the making. At least that's what my initial thoughts were. I'd later realize he's far too much of a softie for that kind of debaucherous lifestyle and actually cares about his education.

Osamu, on the other hand, was far easier to talk to. Calmer. Less... in your face. He still teased and was competitive like his brother, but he was a lot more grounded and mature. He actually listened when people spoke. He was a little more serious. A little more thoughtful.

He reminded me of Rin in some ways—same sense of humour, similar "vibe"—but I could tell he was just as hot-blooded than his twin, just better at hiding it.

I liked him straight away.

But Rin? Rin was still the one I looked for.

Still the one I cheered for during practice.

Still the one who made everything feel like home.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

By the time we were sixteen, something shifted.

It didn't hit me all at once. Nothing like that. No sudden realisation. It was... more of a slow build.

I think it started when I stopped waiting for him after class. Not because I didn’t want to—but because he stopped expecting me to, I think. We were older now, and maybe I just didn’t know how to ask if he still wanted me there. I think a small part of me was afraid he'd find be overbearing.

So… I found new people to walk with. I sat with the twins more often. Got to know them more. I found out Osamu was a massive foodie and a true sweetheart, and that Atsumu was actually just a massive poser—a big, fat jerk, yes, but one with a big heart for those in his circle. A circle I had somehow managed to weave myself into.

I was starting to learn how to hold my own in a school that didn’t revolve around Rin.

And it wasn’t about replacing him. Oh no—definitely not that.

He was still my safe place. Still the person who knew me best.

But I was starting to feel like… maybe I could be my own person too. I’d always been more of a social butterfly, but ever since I met Rin, my circle had mostly revolved around him. So making new friends felt really nice—refreshing, even.

I got close to the Miya twins pretty fast—faster than Rin did, actually. They were impossible to ignore. Loud, chaotic, but strangely grounding in their own way. Osamu was calm and dependable, with a wicked sense of humour once you earned it. We had our own inside jokes now—mostly at his brother’s expense.

Speaking of the latter—

Things got... strange between us. Well—not strange. But at some point, our bickering didn’t feel like bickering anymore. It felt like something suspiciously close to flirting. He started it, of course.

He was so not my type. Funnily enough, if I had to pick one of the two, it’d be Osamu. So imagine my confusion when I started to realize I had feelings for Atsumu.

I think it’s because he challenged me. Pushed my buttons. Pulled things out of me I didn’t know were there. He made me raise my voice. Made me dig my heels in. Made me fight for my space in a way that was oddly exhilarating.

We were fire and fire. Burned too bright on some days, but we always came back.

He was never quiet like Rin. Never still. Never easy.

But with Atsumu, I didn’t feel like I had to wait.

And maybe that was easier than reaching for someone who never reached back.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

We were seventeen when I realized I wasn’t in love with Rin anymore.

And it didn’t break me. It didn't make me feel particularly sad.

It just… passed. Quietly. Like something I’d outgrown. Like a sweater that didn’t quite fit the same, no matter how much you used to love it.

I still loved him, of course. I don’t think that part ever changed. But it wasn’t the breathless, giddy, daydreamy kind of love anymore. My love had settled into something softer. Like nostalgia. Like home.

Or at least… that’s what I told myself.

We were eighteen when the four of us moved in together. It felt like a natural next step—me, the twins, and Rin. Like starting a new chapter of a story we were all co-writing.

And then came New Year’s Eve.

Rin's house was quiet. The twins were back in Hyōgo. His parents were out. We were alone in his room, lights off, movie forgotten, fireworks going off in the distance like the climax of some cheesy shōjo anime.

And then… he kissed me.

No warning. No build-up. Just—one second we were sitting side by side, and the next, his mouth was on mine.

And I froze. Not because I didn’t want it. Just… because I didn’t understand it.

Because for one awful, beautiful second, it felt like everything came rushing back. Like my feelings had been waiting. Like they’d never really gone away at all.

I kissed him back. I kissed him like I’d always wanted to.

My hands in his hair. Chest pressed to his. His breath in my mouth.

And then his hands slid to my waist. He climbed on top of me. And I let him. I let him kiss me harder. Let him touch me. Let myself get swept up in it—drunk on him. On the weight of his body. The way he whispered my name. The way he called me beautiful like I was truly his to admire.

I think I was panting his name by then. I think I forgot how to think.

And somewhere in the middle of all of that—that’s when the confusion hit.

Because I didn’t know what I was feeling. Didn’t know what he was feeling.

What made him do it? Why now?

Surely not love. He’d never hinted at anything like that before. He’d never looked at me like that. Never touched me like someone who’d been waiting.

So was it lust?

And if it was… That stung. More than I thought it would.

I didn’t feel it that night, though. Not right away. That hurt only came later—once the adrenaline wore off. Once I was lying awake and remembering every second. Every sigh. Every touch.

But in the moment?

I was too busy getting lost in him. Too busy writhing beneath him. Too busy hoping—just for a second—that maybe I was wrong. Maybe it did mean something.

And then I panicked.

Because it was too fast. Too much. Too not us.

And I knew—deep in my gut—that this couldn’t be the way our story played out.

I didn’t want to be a one-night thing for him.

Didn��t want to ruin what we had just because my heart got caught in the crossfire of something he didn’t mean.

So I pulled away.

Didn’t say a word. Just let the moment pass.

And we never talked about it again.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

I thought maybe he regretted it.

Or maybe he just didn’t care.

Or maybe I’d imagined the whole thing meant more than it did.

It didn't help that he never brought it up. Not once. Still, he never looked at me any differently. But he never asked if I was okay, either.

And yeah… maybe that hurt a little.

Was it embarrassment? Was I a mistake? Was it just lust, some throwaway moment he didn’t want to acknowledge?

I didn’t know. Still don’t.

So I let it go. Buried it deep. Filed it away in that part of my brain labeled: “Don’t think about this unless you want to overthink yourself into insanity.”

I decided to move forward. I started laughing more. Smiling wider. Let myself lean into other people.

I grew closer to Atsumu—not to replace something I lost, but because he was there. Steady in his own chaotic, big-hearted way.

He made me laugh. Gave me hell. Challenged me. Made me feel seen. With him, I never had to guess. Never had to read between the lines or sit with questions I wasn’t brave enough to ask.

(Or at least, that’s what I thought at the time. But that’s a whole other can of worms.)

Sometimes—just sometimes—that night still comes back to me.

His hands. His breath. The way he said my name like it meant something.

And I still don’t know how to feel about it.

It’s probably nothing.

It’s all in the past.

And there's nothing weird about it.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

We were nineteen when I started realizing how little I thought about Rin in that way anymore. Like—actually, this time.

Not because I didn’t care. I still care—very much so. I guess I just... stopped expecting anything to happen entirely.

He was still Rin. Still steady. Still there. Still my best friend who I deeply cherish and always will.

But whatever we used to be—whatever I used to feel—it's settled into something quieter. Something softer and easier to carry.

He never brought up that kiss. Not once. Never looked at me differently. Never made it weird. Just… carried on like it hadn’t meant anything. Like we were the same as we’d always been.

And eventually, I guess I believed him and moved on.

Even now, nothing’s really changed.

We’re almost done with college. On the cusp of whatever comes next.

Atsumu and I aren’t a thing. Not really. But there’s something there. A flicker, maybe. Or a fire I’m still figuring out.

I’m happy, though.

No, really—I am!

I’ve got three best friends. A home that feels like mine. Days that make me laugh until my stomach hurts.

Rin’s still a major part of my world. Still close, in that comfortable, familiar way. Still easy to be around. Still my best friend that I'd do anything for.

It’s rare—but sometimes, I wonder if he still thinks about that kiss.

Even rarer—but sometimes, I wonder if I should’ve let it happen.

I wonder if I ever really fell out of love with him… or if I just learned how to live without hoping.

But most days?

Most days, I don’t wonder at all.

Most days, I’m okay.

And that’s more than enough.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

He’s looking at me now.

I smile—out of habit, mostly. But it’s real.

He smiles back, like always.

And for a second, something in my chest stirs. Something old. Something that used to ache.

But it doesn’t hurt anymore. It’s just… there. A quiet flicker of something that once mattered a little more than it does now.

I blink, and it’s gone.

Whatever it was—it’s not ours anymore.

Maybe it never really was.

And maybe I’m okay with that.

I’ve got my little home. My little family. A life that’s messy and chaotic and warm in all the right ways.

I’ve got the twins and their bickering. I’ve got Rin and his quiet, grounding presence.

I’ve got love, just… not the kind I used to dream about.

And honestly?

That feels more than enough.

[saintshadow]

Astrology Observations pt. I

6th house synastry / mom or child being a Virgo somewhere in the personal planets & the way it is a frequent pattern of emotionally incestuous dynamics or some form of emotional grooming is involved with the mother. Whether it be Conscious or unconscious. Mother's either suffer from Narcissism, BPD, or have some form of substantial trauma and utilize the child like a crutch unintentionally. Ofc this won't apply to everyone but...it's a pretty substantial pattern I've noticed

Jupiter conjunct mercury & Pisces / Sag Mercury people will literally talk just to talk, yappers fr. Also can be a bit stubborn sometimes about what they believe in, very much the type of person who can be very defensive of their beliefs at times. Alice in wonderland vibes LOL.

Taurus usually holds longer grudges than Scorpio, I've noted it's often because Taurus tend to have a more entitled attitude.

Moon - square/conj Uranus people 🤝 constant anxiety

On a another note 🪄✨

Mercury in the 6th house natives are instant manifestors same goes for mercury in Virgo

I've noticed it with Pisces and sag mercury too

Very powerful words very powerful minds

People with mercury in 6th house I've noticed have an uncanny ability to alter their environment off the strength of their thoughts and words it's like they just constantly spark their thoughts into reality and have the capability to intuitively know what needs to be done in order to follow through on their desires and manifestations

The definition of sitting pretty & waiting for their manifestations to blossom in their favor

On the other hand

Gemini is underrated in its ability to really understand & empathize w/ others

People are so used to the stigma of Gemini being very two faced and disloyal but mature Geminis are some of the most loyal people you'll meet

That applies to any air sign

If they truly fuck with you you're locked in

I think the biggest issue with Gemini is that they tend to feel trapped in social obligation & struggle with people pleasing so they end up basically doing really passive manipulative shit to disengage themselves from situations but also can't help but stir the pot

HOWEVER, let's be honest 😭 Gemini usually stirs the pot when it's some shit that's questionable occuring that really should be acknowledged and reflected upon

I've noticed a lot of mature Geminis also just genuinely do NOT like people and don't want to be around them they really enjoy their solitude & peace 🤷🏻‍♀️

[mihii-i]

Could I have a fluff-smut Arlecchino x fem reader one-shot? Something with aftercare/mostly aftercare

Aftercare is so underrated in smutshots :(

water of affection.

Pairings: arlecchino x fem!reader

CW: nsfw, female reader, afab reader, fluff, fingering, praise. sesbian lex, squirting, mention of arlecchino’s real name GIRLS KISSING WOAH, guys this art of arle is making me crawl on the ceiling again, have yall SEEN that art of her with her hair down oh my f, wlw stuffs yippee, this turned out good, not proofread.

A/N: i agree we absolutely need more aftercare cause a lack of that doesn’t make the boombayah feel like emotional yk- also school is starting tomorrow so if I end up being dead yk why 🕯️

Quiet moans drawled out of your feverish lips as you squirmed against Arlecchino’s fingers parting your cunt. Her hand was snaked between your waist as she buried herself knuckles deep within you, only pushing further to feel your velvety walls tighten against her digits. Filthy sounds of Arlecchino’s fingers pumping inside you echoed through the room, only serving to add more eroticism to the already heated moment, and heightening your arousal as her sharp nails raked along your sweet spot so sinfully.

Your breaths were ragged and uneven as beads of sweat dribbled down your flushed skin. Each quick movement of her fingers curling up, and her knuckles dragging along your pussy only drove you further over the edge as your gasps heightened in pitch with her skillfull motions. Arlecchino was the only woman who could ever make you feel this good. No matter what.

Not only that, she was the only one who could spiral you into madness, with both her presence and her performance in bed. No matter what you were doing, whenever you were in Arlecchino’s presence, you always felt warm and fuzzy inside, knowing for a fact that you’d cherish her with all you have for as long as you live. Whether it was her fucking you into the sheets with intense passion and fervor, or just her sitting beside you in comforting silence, you knew for a fact that your heart beat for her, and her only.

Her fingers parted your cunt as you let out a sharp whine in response, falling back to press your spine flush against her chest as your sweat adorned bodies stuck to each other with a thick fog of heat circling the two of you in the moment. You felt a piling knot of anticipation build up in your lower abdomen at her consistent movements, bucking your hips forward as your glassy eyes flickered over to her thighs hugged around your waist.

Body situated between her legs, you continued to grind your hips further into her hand as Arlecchino’s lips trailed a pattern of gentle kisses along your arched shoulder, free hand digging into your tense thighs to hold your squirming self.

“A-Arle- I’m gonna..” you babbled in a whiny voice, the stimulation driving you insane as her fingers scissored inside your leaking cunt. She simply nodded against your body pressed to her front, her fingers curling to massage that one soft spot buried inside your pussy. The sensations clouded your mind with an intense wash of ecstasy, making you detach from the present in pure pleasure as your juices coated her fingers, breathing shallow and throaty upon coming down from your high.

Taking a moment to catch your breath, your head draped low to collect some of your spent energy from the roughly passionate moment with your girlfriend. You let out a high pitched gasp of surprise when the warmth of her skin circled your waist, drawing you in against her chest once more. Arlecchino hugged you against her chest, arms fastened around you like a vice as she buried her face into your hair to take in your sweet scent.

“Are you alright, dear?” She questioned, her cold gaze fixated on you with an added softness, as if she was purely focused on your comfort and safety in her arms. Snaking your hand behind to rest upon her nape, you lightly pushed the back of her neck to gesture her to lean down further onto you, which she did. You simply smiled, giving a worn out nod as Arlecchino gently ran her thumb up and down your hunched up shoulders, nails lightly dragging up and down against your still sensitive skin.

As you rested within your lover’s shielding grasp comfortably, the exchange lacked words, yet harbored a sense of solace between the two of you. The sudden movement of Arlecchino shuffling away from you to stand up almost made you grumble out in annoyance, flashing a glare at her to signal that you wanted her to hold you once more. She only grasped a pillow to situate behind your head, her naked body still on full display so casually as you were flustered enough to turn the other direction while gripping the pillow.

“I’ll start you a bath, (Name). Just hold on.”

You only responded with a small nod, beginning to get comfortable against the cotton enveloping the sides of your head as your girlfriend headed into the bathroom. Rushes of water muffled through the bathroom door before your bed, inciting a sort of tranquility within you as you thought back on how much you truly cared for the Fatui harbinger.

It’s as if you were trapped in an endless void, vision blackened as nothingness enveloped your sights. Yet Arlecchino parted a brightened path for you to step on, a faint light in her unfeeling gaze that guided you out of the shackles of a dark void. Every gesture of hers, whether it was minuscule or grand, surged a fluffy feeling through your heart. Her thoughtful actions, along with the way she loved you with all her heart, caused a strong affection for her to seep into the shell of your beating heart.

The swishes of running water finally ceased, or rather slowed down significantly, making you slowly sit up as to not strain your already tightened muscles anymore. Arlecchino parted the door to reveal herself to you, stepping toward the foot of the bed as the silk covers drooping off the side brushed her ankles. You attempted to sit up, only for you to blink with a hint of embarrassment.

“Arle. I can’t move..” you admitted, averting your eyes as you knew she probably found that hilarious. She only let out a hum of laughter, before instantly reaching under your limp body and curling her arms around your waist, pulling you against her chest once more.

“Better?”

You simply nodded.

Arlecchino firmly kept you hoisted up in her arms as she pushed the door open once more, allowing you to take in the sight of the tub filled with warm water. The soft smell of rose petals lingering in the air tickled your nostrils. The presence of the scent coursed a calm and cozy feeling throughout you, only heightening your comfort further as Arlecchino set you down to sink in the tub.

Warm ripples of water outlined your sunken body below your shoulders, the rippling originating from your body’s location to disperse across the clear water of the tub and disappearing as it reached a scattered rose petal floating in the water. Arlecchino slowly situated herself down into the tub, closing her eyes as she sat in front of you in a comfortable position.

She beckoned you to come closer, arms extended to gesture you into her embrace. You couldn’t refuse such a charming woman, and practically threw yourself into her arms, making her stumble back against the swift splash of water. Arlecchino only gave a rare smile, hugging you against her chest as you two remained soaking in the serenity of the bathtub.

Her gentle kisses scattered across your back and rolled over to your front, soft lips tracing every reddened mark decorating your precious body to soothe any possible ache piling up in your muscles. You only let out a quiet sigh of contentment, relaxing against Arlecchino’s loving touch across your skin.

“You’re so gorgeous, (Name).”

“Mm..you really think so?”

“I know so.”

Your heart nearly soared from those three words alone, head tilting to the side as the hickeys adorning your neck exposed to the cold air. A rose petal slowly floated toward your chest, Arlecchino’s body looming over you as she held you close casting a faint shadow along the outlines of the petal. The rose of your relationship with Arlecchino would never die. No matter how much water you deprive the romantic flower, your love for her would always persist, finding a way to take in the so called water of affection.

“And I know you’re the one I’d love forever, Peruere.”

A/N: wait this fic kinda ate hold on

I was rlly into it when I wrote it so yay it turned out good imo I’m proud of this one :)

I DONT WANNA GO TO SCHOOL LET ME SLEEP.