#AND I actually captured his vibe this time!

[f1daydreamer]

His True Love

Warnings: Fluff, angst, and Lando being the ultimate simp.

Word count: ~2,500

Summary: Fans speculate endlessly about Lando’s relationship with Magui Corceiro, but they’re way off the mark. He’s actually dating Magui’s cousin—Amélia—a private and shy soul. After months of keeping their relationship under wraps, Lando decides her birthday is the perfect time to introduce her to the world.

---

The light from Lando’s phone illuminated his face as he scrolled through Instagram, his jaw tightening at the captions and comments under yet another photo of Magui Corceiro with his group of friends.

User4: It’s so obvious they’re together.

User3: Lando and Magui? I ship it!

User7: Power couple energy!

He sighed, tossing his phone onto the bed. It was the same thing over and over. Fans had latched onto the idea of him and Magui being together simply because she appeared in group photos and videos.

Amélia’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. “You okay?”

He turned to see her standing in the doorway, her soft hazel eyes meeting his. She was wearing one of his oversized hoodies, her golden-brown waves spilling over her shoulders, and her presence alone eased the tension in his chest.

“It’s just the fans,” he admitted, motioning for her to join him.

She padded over, sitting cross-legged beside him. “Still think you’re with Magui?”

He nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah. It’s annoying.”

Amélia gave him a small smile, her shy demeanor never wavering. “Well, they don’t know about me. It’s not their fault.”

“But it’s frustrating,” he said, reaching out to take her hand. “I don’t want people thinking I’m with her when I have you.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she ducked her head. “I don’t mind staying out of the spotlight, Lando. It’s not worth the attention—or the drama.”

He frowned. While he understood her preference for privacy, he hated that their relationship was invisible to the world. She was the best part of his life, and he wanted people to know.

---

As weeks passed, the speculation grew worse. Every time Magui was seen with his friends, social media erupted with theories.

User9: Magui is so lucky.

User5: When will Lando finally confirm her?

User1: They’re literally perfect together.

It didn’t help that Amélia was nowhere to be found in his public life. She didn’t appear at races, avoided social media, and steered clear of situations where cameras might catch her.

One evening, as they curled up on the couch, Lando couldn’t keep his thoughts to himself any longer.

“I think I want to post about us,” he said, his voice steady but tentative.

Amélia blinked up at him, her expression soft but surprised. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he said firmly. “It’s your birthday soon, and I want to celebrate you—properly. Not just between us but with everyone.”

Her brows furrowed slightly. “Lando… your fans can be brutal. I don’t want you to deal with that.”

“They’ll love you,” he said, cupping her face in his hands. “And even if they don’t, I don’t care. You mean everything to me, Amélia. I want the world to know how lucky I am.”

Her heart fluttered at his words, and though she was still nervous, she trusted him. “Okay,” she whispered.

His face lit up with a grin, and he pulled her into his arms. “Best decision ever.”

---

The day of her birthday, Lando posted a carousel of photos on Instagram. Each one captured a special moment between them—moments that had remained hidden from the world until now.

Lando Norris: Happy birthday to my everything. You’re the kindest, most beautiful, and incredible person I’ve ever known. Thank you for making me the luckiest guy in the world. Love you forever, Amélia. 🧡

Within minutes, his post went viral. Fans flooded the comments, their reactions a chaotic mix of shock, curiosity, and adoration.

---

Fans’ Reactions:

User21: WHO IS SHE?!

User11: Wait… this isn’t Magui?

User76: She’s stunning omg.

User44:I KNEW IT. Lando wasn’t dating Magui. They didn’t have the vibe.

User54: She looks so sweet and shy. I love her already.

User27:Protect Amélia at all costs.

Amélia scrolled through the comments with wide eyes, her nerves easing as she realized the overwhelming positivity.

She turned to Lando, who was lounging beside her with a triumphant smirk on his face.

“See? I told you they’d love you,” he said, clearly pleased with himself.

“Not all of them,” she replied, though her tone was light.

“They don’t matter,” he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “What matters is that now everyone knows you’re mine.”

She laughed softly, leaning into his embrace. “I guess they do.”

He pressed a kiss to her temple, his voice full of affection. “Happy birthday, love.”

---

Note

Hey, friends! So, this is my first time writing a one-shot, and wow, coming up with a plot? Easy-peasy. Actually writing it? A struggle and a half. But it was so much fun bringing this to life! Hope you enjoyed some Lando fluff with a side of angst—because who doesn’t love a man being a total simp? Thanks for reading! 💛

[pyrepostings]

You can full tag it as medical trauma, that is the direction I took writing the prompt. Though, the main body of the prompt is a little more generalized than what I'm planning for Kevin My Dear OC. /gen info

You used an upward inflection in his general direction so I'm going to go on about him now.

I'd say Kevin in this specific storyline doesn't really have full medical trauma, it's more surface level brands/tattoos and the only full procedure is the medical insertion of the tracker, but the focus on that is more the tracker and not really the medical trauma side of getting it inserted.

For Kevin in this one, it's more about how many times he's knocked out while in captivity. In his canon, he's drugged to unconsciousness twice (the first being the Inciting Incident and done by a close friend to capture for Enhanced Interrogation Purposes, and the second was also to capture but under more cut and dry circumstances)

In this specific au though, there's a higher focus on the pet whump type arc he has, and in this Alex has more control over him as an actual captive vs the more domestic violence vibes in canon. One of the things Alex does with this heightened level of power is drug Kevin into a compliant (or sometimes ~☆needy☆~) state regularly, and sometimes into complete unconsciousness. I'm also imagining it takes more and more effort to wake up every time he's put under, worse dizzy spells, worse headaches, might throw chills in there idk. Point here is that every time he's put under, it is inherently a worse and worse situation for him.

This works because it works on both the trauma he has in canon and also the liberal use of it in squidgames on the players (they even insert a chip behind their ears). There's also the dragon au, which this could be considered an au of considering the dynamics, and in that Alex has a spell to knock Kevin out whenever he wants, and he does regularly especially near the end of the captivity.

So uhh, I guess what I'm trying to say is, by "and things Done to them" I wrote it suggesting medical trauma, but had an oc regularly assaulted while they were at the most possible defenseless (unconscious) in mind, and reading it either way is totally valid.

Whumpee who needs a surgery but they have Trauma about being knocked out and things Done to them.

Do they get the surgery while paralyzed and numb, but awake? Is caretaker there to still walk them through what's happening to them?

Do they agree to go under full anesthesia but only if caretaker is there both when they go under and wake up, and very specific instructions about how they want to be treated during the process?

"Fine, just, can you be there when I'm waking up? And please don't judge me if I react poorly to you, I- I don't always know where I am when I'm coming out of it."

"Let me hold the gas to my own face. Don't touch me until I'm out. Make sure I'm dressed the same by the time I'm coming up. Do what you have to do while I'm out, I don't want to hear details about it unless I ask, just get it done."

[orphicmusings]

LOVELOVELOOOVE ur viktor writing . He’s soo boyfriend and i think u capture his character so so well <33 was wondering if you’d consider writing something abt reader experiencing academic burnout (or similar) and him comforting them / convincing them to take a break n rest? :3 if u don’t feel like writing it then no worries !! Take care of urself <33

(kinda apart of my viktor & humanities reader au —)

if there was anyone who would be in the library until it closed, it would be you and viktor. though on opposite sides, in different sections. you always acknowledge each other with a friendly hello if you cross paths, but otherwise you leave him to his studying and he leaves you.

that is, until he sees you slumped against the literary fiction aisle, your eyes closed, head resting on an almost empty shelf. you had an open book held loosely in your hands, your place likely long gone. highlighters and pencils were scattered about your crossed legs, where you sat next to a laptop bag, a notebook and an empty coffee cup. so much for it. he sighed and gently approached you, laying a delicate hand on your shoulder.

“hey.” he tried to keep his voice soft as not to startle you. “i don’t think your neck will be very happy with you.”

you blinked awake, stifling a gasp as your vision adjusted to the dim light of the library, this angle blocking one of the overhead yellow lights, creating a warm halo around the tawny locks of your interruption, making him look more like a savior. oh, no. it’s hot library guy. your cheeks flushed immediately when you realized who was seeing you in this pathetic state. “i…” you cleared your throat, stretching your arms. “thank you.”

“of course.” he chuckled warmly and it made your heart skip a beat. “i…don’t want to state the obvious, but you do know this is not normal, yes?”

your cheeks flushed even more as you let out a sigh. yes, you knew pushing yourself until your brain can’t take it anymore isn’t normal. but how else were you gonna make it through all these tests? “i see you slumped over your books in here, too.” you offered as a hoarse counter.

he tilted his head with a raise of his brow, considering your point. “i don’t fall asleep on the floor.”

you groaned, covering your face in embarrassment. “just…forget you saw me like this.”

“oh, why would i do that?” he chuckled again. “it is quite amusing. proof that caffeine cannot fix everything.” he pointed to your coffee cup. at your tired glare, he relented. “i’m just kidding with you. i’m viktor.” he offered his hand to you. you sighed and took it, pulling you to your feet and introducing yourself. “it is nice to put a name to a face i see so often. now, even though we just met, i feel compelled to walk you home.”

you would have refused, but the sun already went down and you weren’t nearly alert enough to walk home alone. “that…would be nice, thank you.” you smiled thinly, feeling heat flood your face again.

he waited for you to gather your things and hooked his arm in yours. you idly chatted about your majors as you walked to your dorm buildings. for someone majoring in engineering physics, he actually did seem to be interested in your english pursuit. “you know what my favorite book is?” he asked. “a lot of people would assume it is some kind of scientific landmark, a theoretical curiosity, and i wouldn’t deny it.” he chuckled lightly. “but considering this is your area of expertise, i’ll tell you.”

you smiled. “what is it?”

“emma.” he returned the smile. “by jane austen. classic.”

“oh my god.” you giggled. “i wouldn’t expect that from you. but now that you mention it…” you tilted your head. “you do give off knightley vibes.”

pink dusted his cheeks. “that…is a very appreciated compliment.” he returned your energy again, giggling himself. god, you wanted to make him laugh all the time. he dropped you off at your dorm and assured you he was fine to walk back on his own, as his building was right across from yours.

“am i gonna see you at the library tomorrow night?” you asked.

he turned and smiled. “perhaps.”

[papasbaseball]

Back during Christmas, I made an effort to track down the scent that Jeff wears. I'll be honest, there are not many clues, but I collected them regardless. I kept a tally of each cologne that was (seriously) mentioned and recommended as a possibility. From what I've seen, no one has thought to ask him or could identify it (someone said that he smells like platinum and sandalwood, but I could not find this interview being referenced). Regardless, I came up with a list of 5, each having been mentioned twice somewhere.

M7 by Yves Saint Laurent

Noir Extreme by Tom Ford

Himalaya by Creed

Egoiste Plantinum by Chanel

Black Afgano by Nasomatto

Out of these 5, I noted the frequency of scent notes within them to see what fragrance fans were trying to capture about his aura. Here they are in occurrence order, descending:

aromatic & woody - 5

amber & fresh spicy - 4

powdery & balsamic - 3

oud & citrus & musky & warm spicy & green -2

earthy & sweet & vanilla & white floral & animalic & lavender & herbal & smoky & cannabis & tobacco - 1

This is all good and useful, but nothing beats the actual taste test (or in this case, the scent test). I was able to acquire 4 samples through Scent Decant, minus the Egoiste Platinum, and they finally arrived today. As of right now, here are my rankings based on vibes alone:

Black Afgano by Nasomatto - This one shoots through you with such a level of spice that it's quite shocking. In a way, it reminds me of the late 80s through the 90s and it's kind of hard to explain unless you lived through it. It is almost in the same vibe as the infamous Jeff Goldblum purr and I can definitely understand why people recommended this one.

Himalaya by Creed - It's a strong enough scent. Smells like rather stereotypical cologne, but at least it smells. It would not be shocking if someone found out that this is what he wears.

Noir Extreme by Tom Ford - Originally I had this tied with M7 and then about the 3rd or 4th time smelling it I picked up on a sweet note. It's pretty weak compared to Himalaya and Black Afgano, but if he were a subtle cologne wearer, I think he might pick this one over the M7 because while they both smell like standard men's colognes this one has the unique quality of the sweet note that makes me think he would choose it because it's different.

M7 by Yves Saint Laurent - Like I said above, just a standard cologne. Not much to write home about for right now.

So far I haven't tested any of these on skin, so that might change their ranking, but I hope to do that over the next handful of days so that I can get a good idea of how they wear and develop. I also need to see about getting ahold of the Egoiste Platinum so that I can add it to the list.

To Be Continued

[leviiackrman]

ROB YOUNG - uncharted [sketch]

more art || pinterest board || commissions

[noxcheshire]

I don’t know much about the DC world I’m gonna be honest, aside from osmosis, ao3, and the various movies of Batman I happen to catch and can’t even really remember, I know nothing about the lore of ANYTHING.

HOWEVER.

From what I can tell, the only way for someone to get ‘Pit Madness’ the way that Jason does is by being dunked into Lazarus Water, thus the green flashing eyes.

So what if, angsty cracky route, is that the Batfam believe that the Fenton parents had used their second youngest as an experiment of sorts to confirm if Lazarus Water can be harnessed. Because obviously, Danny Fenton had been a normal A-Grade student, and now, has since deteriorated — possibly due — to Pit Madness.

One way this can feed into that self made conclusion is the way students, neighbors, even teachers mention how the Fenton parent’s are very one-minded when it came to their work. Because while Jack and Maddie were an overexcitable set of parents who loved their children, they are still text book examples of neglect.

So maybe the Batfam assume that the only way Danny could get his parents attention was to go around the stuff that they were interested in? And it went too far, causing him to die (very true) and come back a little worse than Jason.

And when they see the way the obvious Danny Phantom/Fenton and the way the parents react to his more Lazarus touched form in comparison to his human one, it further cements that idea into the Batfam. The Fenton parents do not care for the human half of Danny, only the Lazarus touched him. Maybe they even believe that Danny in his own way is suicidal due to the fact the Fenton’s give far more — violent, yes, but — attention to Phantom.

Danny for his part is just chugging some ecto slushie in the background that his dad accidentally invented when trying to make ice cream.

The cracky part of this is of course the absolute 180 difference in the pov for each side.

Batfam spiraling over this poor neglected child, while Danny is just chilling with his family.

Jack and Maddie for their part, like frogs boiling in warm water, had slowly gotten used to Danny’s ghost vibes and physical changes. In fact, they’ve gotten so used to it all by ACCIDENT, that Danny could literally just change part way like he does in Phantom form and the two would still believe it was just Danny being Danny.

It isn’t until he puts on his hazmat hero costume do they see Phantom. It’s like that “Perry the Platypus?!” situation.

Garage Sale

Well, when the Fentons decided to have a garage sale Danny didn't expect many to be interested. His parents were looking for a way to get money quickly to build more stuff, and he jokingly suggested they could sell some inventions, they took it seriously (Jazz made sure to remove all the lethal inventions, she tried with the ones that might be risky but then they wouldn't sell anything).

Danny knew his parents were strange yes, but he wasn't sure that justified millionaires in his backyard. Millionaires, he'd like to clarify, had never set foot in Amity Park before. He raised an eyebrow at the sight of Bruce Wayne and his sons checking out the appliances. None of them seemed to be interested in the "ghosts" but they hadn't backed down from taking some things either.

So yes, Danny was suspicious. Of course he had made sure the inventions in the sale were safe (although unlike Jazz, he simply decided to make them safe, a few modifications here and there), but the fact that they looked genuinely interested made him uneasy.

Were the Waynes interested in hunting ghosts?

He decided to try something, he crossed eyes with one of them and let his green eyes show before looking away, the boy looked alarmed. He approached him and asked, but Danny feigned ignorance, commenting that all the inventions were green and maybe he had been confused by the reflection (to be fair, most of his parents' inventions were green because of the ecto).

For his part, Bruce had received an alert from Justice League Dark, it seemed they had detected a strange energy, similar to magic, so the bats set out to investigate. They didn't expect to find a garage sale in a house in the middle of nowhere (Amity Park wasn't even marked on the fucking map). Nor did they expect advanced technology or mad scientists.

Bruce decided to pretend he had stumbled into town as "Brucie Wayne" and buy a few things. He shuddered to see that many inventions worked with Lazarus water. Jason, who had strangely agreed to come along, was also upset about the son of the scientists.

Bruce questioned whether he had found a family of villains in the making.

[forlix]

𝘀𝘂𝗯𝘁𝗲𝘅𝘁・l.f.

— in which you forget that your hot housemate follows you on twitter.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・1.1k 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・roommate!felix x gn!streamer!reader 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲𝘀・fluff, flirting, kind of an smau, implied friends to lovers, humor if u count jeongin being a piece of shit

𝗮/𝗻・saw this tweet the other day and it was so painfully lix coded that i knew i had to write something asap. contains a tiny bit of gaming jargon but is hopefully comprehensible. ENJOY ♡

y/n ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ @ y/nxx

if someone brings you fresh cut fruit to your table when you're gaming, they either like LIKE you or it's your mom

11:23 A.M.・Oct. 2023・220.2K Views

bokkie 🐣 liked your post.

“My tweet?”

You read aloud the newest text in your chatroom, and your face brightens when you remember the one in question.

“Oh, about the fruit—no, it’s so true though. And I love my mom, don't get me wrong, but I have an inkling she did it to guilt trip me." You change your posture and adopt your best motherly tone of voice. "‘This is your tenth consecutive hour wasting your young adulthood in front of that damn screen. I am now going to hand deliver apple slices straight to your mouth.’ That kind of vibe, y'know?"

A slew of messages follows your anecdote, but it is a comment from one of your moderators that catches your eye first:

je0ng1n: what about the other option tho 👀

You groan at the sight of his username. “Man, why are you always here? Don't you have a job?"

je0ng1n: i’m on break je0ng1n: taking a dump je0ng1n: ungrateful bitch

You brandish a middle finger to the camera. “Hope the dump sucks."

je0ng1n: HEY je0ng1n: don’t even joke about that :(

An involuntary cackle precedes your next words. “If you’re actually wondering, though, the only person who’s brought me fruit while I’m playing video games is indeed my mother. Heartbreaking, I know.”

At this, the steady flow of messages morphs into a gallery of depressed cat emoticons; your audience never fails to impress you with their way with words.

“But if someone other than your disappointed parent is bringing you fruit,” you go on, “they might as well get on one knee in the process, honestly. That's such an adorable, loving thing to do.”

Suddenly, the words MATCH FOUND splash across your monitor, and you move your cursor to accept the game invite—only to be met with a pop-up window and a familiar error sound that grates on your ears like screeching tires.

You know how this story ends: the lights in your mouse go dark, and you look on in dejected silence.

je0ng1n: LMFAOOOOO je0ng1n: bro’s mouse definitely just exploded again

“You guessed it," you sigh. “Hang tight for a sec, guys."

Half an hour ago, you could’ve sworn you heard sneakers being kicked off, a set of keys falling against plastic. Now, you pull one side of your headphones off and roll your chair a few feet backward, calling through your half-open door: “Lix, are you home?”

You pick up on a soft clunk that sounds like metal hitting wood—the cutting board, maybe?—and then your housemate's low, accented answer bounces off the walls of your shared hallway.

“Yeah, you alright?”

“The mouse,” you say helplessly.

“Ah.” It’s not the first time you’ve summoned him for this. “Be right there.”

A few seconds later, you remember to tack on a hurried disclaimer: “I’m live, by the way!”

“I know.”

This brings a bashful smile to your face, though the expression quickly turns to one of pure dismay when you return to your desk and witness the disastrous state of your chat.

Felix has become a regular guest on your stream by now, always popping in to show you a TikTok or ask for your opinion on a new pair of jeans or simply give your camera an awkward wave—but he may as well own your channel with how completely and unequivocally he has captured the hearts of your viewers. They’re convinced he’s the sexiest person to ever grace the earth, with his chiseled features and coffee-colored eyes; with a grin that could set entire estates on fire and a voice that could scrape the nadir of the Grand Canyon.

Do you agree? Absolutely.

Do you have any intention of voicing this sentiment, so long as you’re splitting rent with him? Absolutely the hell not.

Another of Jeongin’s messages—GET ME HIS NUMBER OR I GET VIOLENT—inspires you to minimize the stream window before Felix gets here. It’s for the best.

A few moments later, the door opens, and the air shifts inside your room. A hand comes to rest on the top of your head; a familiar silhouette appears in your periphery. There is a fond grin plastered across your face and a bright greeting sitting readily on the tip of your tongue.

But then, Felix places a plate of freshly cut fruit in the empty space to the left of your keyboard—here, he hums, the sound falling against the shell of your ear like a drop of melted chocolate. And the gears of your brain grind to a complete stop.

There is no further acknowledgment; no supplementary explanation for what he's just done. He simply picks up your mouse and gets to work.

The words of your tweet swim dizzyingly before your eyes, not unlike those halos of stars and birds that revolve around disoriented cartoon characters. And you’re suddenly, achingly aware of your roommate's arm nudging against yours as he tinkers away; of the aromas of vanilla and laundry detergent that always come with his proximity; of the heat that’s risen to your face, and the plethora of questions that have surfaced to your mind.

A soft huff of laughter follows a gentle utterance of your name, and you snap out of your trance. Felix’s eyes are glinting with amusement when you meet them.

“It’s been recalibrated,” he says, handing back your mouse. “Just give it a few minutes.”

Your fingertips brush over his palm when you accept the object, and even this blink of contact has your heart performing an elaborate hopscotch routine across the plane of your chest.

It’s either your mom, or…

“Thank you,” you mumble, finally retrieving your larynx from the bottom of the Atlantic.

“Anytime,” Felix returns, and you know he means it. “You need a duo, by the way?"

“Yes, please.”

He gives you a warm smile at this, and there’s a hint of something else—something new—in the curve of his lips. “Give me two.” And he’s gone as quickly as he'd come.

You will never know how Felix slips his phone out of his pocket the second he emerges from your room, his pulse hounding his ears as he turns a nervous gaze upon his screen.

There is now a supersonic blur of messages saturating your chatroom, a colorful cacophony of moving emotes and capital letters, but he is focused wholly on the person in front of the camera and how you slowly lift a hand to your mouth, deathly silent despite your every viewer demanding your comment on the matter, your sanguine cheeks visible even through the gaps of your fingers.

That is all he needs to know.

Felix sinks into the leather of his gaming chair and bends to power on his computer. Only after a deep breath blows past his lips does his smile start to stretch into a grin, every bit as embarrassed as it is relieved.

je0ng1n: no way je0ng1n: no fucking way je0ng1n: my heart fluttered je0ng1n: wtf je0ng1n: how’d you pull HIM??

y/nxx has removed je0ng1n as a moderator of this channel.

𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other works here. thanks so much for the support ♡

© 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘅 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.

[sixofsol]

the crows as tarot cards in the major arcana

FINALLY DONE with the first part of this project… the plan is to maybe make a whole deck with different characters from different fandoms, we’ll see !! here’s my long explanation on why i choose what cards!

for all the crows i choose cards from the major arcana, which as the name suggests, often represent major events in life. most of the inspirations come from the rider-waite deck, however i’ve also taken inspo from other decks ! also pay attention to the directions the characters are facing - left usually represents the past, right the future, and facing front means the present

0 - the fool - jesper

the major arcana is sometimes described as the fool’s journey, we see this with the fool being card 0, instead of card 1. the fool goes through every challenge the major arcana has for him, and grows in the meantime. the fool represents innocence, freedom, adventure, travel, carlessness and the start of a journey. for jesper this feels very fitting especially looking through a pre canon lens, i sort of imagined this being his journey to ketterdam. the flowers on his coat are inspired by the rider-waite deck, where the fool holds a white rose, which symbolize youth and innocence.for all the crows i choose cards from the major arcana, which as the name suggests, often represent major events in life. most of the inspirations come from the rider-waite deck, however i’ve also taken inspo from other decks !

9 - the hermit - wylan

the hermit symbolizes soul searching and solitude. much like the fool for jesper, this feels like a pre canon card for wylan. the hermit can mean withdrawing inwards to recover and heal after a hard time. solitude in search for enlightenment. the lantern is also taken from the rider-waite deck, and to me the star in the lantern, much like the actual star card, represents healing.

11 - justice - inej

the justice card means… justice. consequences, truth and honesty are also words associated with the card. i tried many different ways of making the sword and scales interact, and thought this was a nice way. this to me is post canon inej, sankta of the seas out hunting slavers inej ! her yielding the sword with both hands also to me means that she holds justice in her hands, and she will bring it.

12 - the hanged man - matthias

before anyone gets mad at me… hear me out ! the hanged man represents being in a situation which you are not happy with, and that you want to change. you have the ability to change it as well, if you can dare to let go of the old situation, and see things with new eyes. this to me captures matthias arc very neatly, as much of his development is learning to see the world from a different perspective.

13 - death - nina

apart from death itself, the death card represents more rebirth, endings and beginnings, and letting go. traumatic transformations, which i think also captures nina’s whole arc. she is constantly being reborn, the world around her constantly changing. both pre and post parem, and i wanted the lines around the heart, black and red, represent different parts of her powers. as well as the icy fjerdan terrain behind her, being the first of the many sudden transformations she went through.

18 - the moon - kaz

the moon card generally means “everything is not as it seems”. it’s a card of deception and illusion, both to the outside world, but also when it comes to burying things within ourselves. the moon is closely tied to water, which matched the vibe i wanted to go for. fun fact, in numerology in tarot you count the numbers combined, so 1+8 for 18, meaning both wylan and kaz’ cards are number 9, which is why i wanted similar vibes for them

[mindmelter]

A Body Stealer Tale: A Capture To Remember

When I arrived in Italy, I found out my camera was broken from the travel. Frustrated, I wandered through Italy until I found a small, dusty shop tucked between old buildings. Inside, an elderly shopkeeper offered me an old camera model, calling it "special." I was desperate, so I bought it, not realizing just how “special” this camera would actually be.

I’d only been in Italy for a day when I spotted him—an absolute Adonis. I was just wandering through the cobbled streets of the old town, camera in hand, getting lost in the architecture and the vibes, taking photos of every old building I saw. Suddenly, there he was: this hot Italian guy walking alone past me. I couldn’t resist. I knew it was a little risky, but I raised my new camera to grab a quick shot of him without him noticing.

I mean, I would never see him again after that, so I should as well capture the moment to remember.

But then, the moment I pressed the shutter, there was a flash of bright light. It wasn’t from my camera. It was like a white ball of light bursting out from the man's back and zipping straight into my camera, vanishing without a trace.

And before I could even gasp, his whole body crumpled like a pile of clothes, totally hollowed out. I blinked, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. I mean, there was this whole empty Italian guy lying there on the street—skin, hair, face, everything—but no bones, no organs, nothing inside. Just a bodysuit.

I just stood there, completely dumbfounded, staring at the bodysuit that had been a whole man only seconds before. Luckily, there was no one on the street but me, which honestly was a miracle. My heart was racing, but curiosity got the better of me. I glanced around, making sure I was alone, and slowly crouched down, reaching out to touch the hollowed man's face. It was surreal, it felt smooth, soft, and very real, I mean... it was real. As I caressed his stubble beard and admired his slack empty face, I noticed an opening on his nape. Curious, I pulled his sagging head by the hair and noticed a small opening on his back, it was the exact place where the ball of light had come out of him.

An idea popped into my head—completely insane, but somehow, I knew I had to do it. Before I could second-guess myself, I slipped off my shoes and started undressing right there on the sidewalk. Yeah, risky, but I wasn’t gonna let this opportunity slip away.

One leg at a time, I stepped into the suit's open hole, pulling his muscular calves and thighs over my own legs. The fabric—no, the *skin*—wrapped around me like a second layer. I could feel his muscles molding to my shape as I slid my arms into his and finally tugged his handsome face over mine like a mask.

Then… something amazing happened. I could feel the strength of his body taking over, the weight of his muscles filling me up, the opening in his back closing, and even his face settling into place over mine. I wasn’t just wearing him—I *was* him.

I glanced down and saw those fit pecs, those ripped abs, and a big flaccid cock that now belonged to me. The guy was very hung, I thought.

I couldn't help but give my new cock a few strokes. I chuckled at the thought of someone walking and seeing this stud jerking off naked on the street.

But I wasn't in the mood to spend my new hot body in an Italian jail, so I grabbed the man's jeans from the ground and pulled them back up. His wallet fell out of his pocket, so I grabbed it and looked for his ID.

"Luca Moretti, 23 years old," It said.

Well, I guess that's my new name for now, I thought as I put a shirt on.

I grabbed the camera from the ground and looked at the lens, my eyes squinted as I tried to look inside for any sign of life, "Hello? Do you hear me?" I waited for a response and chuckled at how ridiculous I looked talking to a camera. I was about to put it inside my backpack when I heard a distant voice in my head. It was a male voice, and it was screaming in Italian.

"Che cazzo sta succedendo? Non sento più nulla… posso solo vedere attraverso questa maledetta lente! Ma cosa mi è successo? Sono intrappolato qui dentro? Non può essere vero… Aiuto! Qualcuno mi tiri fuori da qui, vi prego!"

I couldn't understand what he was saying—I don't speak Italian! I gazed into the lens, letting a look of gentle compassion soften my new features.

"I'm sorry man, I can't understand what you're saying. But it looks like that's your new home now. Your body is mine and It's going to be so fun being you, I hope you don't have a girlfriend because I'm really going to put this ass to use. But don't worry though, I will make sure you get some company soon."

I put the camera inside my backpack and casually walked away as if I’d always been him. I’d never felt this confident in my life, and proof of that was the huge bulge I proudly displayed in my jeans. This is going to be one unforgettable trip.

Next time, I won't be taking photos of old buildings, but of hot men whose bodies I want to capture.

[onlyangel4]

skinny dipping. mv1. smau.

max verstappen x ex!girlfriend reader

in which max and reader dated up until they were nineteen, when max ended the relationship so he could focus on his career but a chance encounter sees them reconnecting.

faceclaim: olivia cooke

y/ninsta posted a story

written: canceled plans means retail therapy and this is the fit of choice. i look insane.

maxverstappensightings posted a story

written: max was spotted walking around a shopping centre in belgium

y/ninsta posted a story tagging y/bff and belladubois

written: as usual the girls arrive first

y/ninsta posted a story tagging marcuslambert, liammaes, lucaslambert and maxverstappen

written: and the boys have finally made it.

maxverstappen posted a story

written: a day for reconnecting with old friends

y/ninsta posted a story marcuslambert, liammaes, lucasdukes and maxverstappen

written: the boys

y/ninsta posted a story tagging y/bff and belladubois

written: the girlies

f1wags

liked by user1, user2, user3 and 45,293 others

f1wags: max verstappen spotted in belgium with y/n y/ln. those that do not know who y/n is, she was max's first ever girlfriend and she was about during his early days of f1 with a group of his friends that got nicknamed "max's cheerleader" but one random day they just dissapeared and it came out that max had pulled away from them to focus on racing. but four months ago they started posting each other again max has been coming back to belgium a lot more in between races.

view all 2,192 comments

user1: i can't believe we are getting max and y/n content in 2024 that is actually insane

user2: omg my fav couple could be back for good

user3: every time i have seen pictures of them together they both look really happy

maxverstappen posted a story tagging y/ninsta

written: she got so excited because her glasses match my drink

y/ninsta posted a story

written: last day of 26

marcuslambert posted a story tagging, maxverstappen, y/bff and y/ninsta

written: happy birthday to my fav chaotic mess y/ninsta

belladubois posted a story tagging liammaes, maxverstappen and y/ninsta

written: happy birthday to my fav third wheel turned double date partner

liammaes posted a story tagging belladubois and y/ninsta

written: omg it is y/n day

lucasdukes posted a story tagging y/ninsta, y/bff and maxverstappen

written: i tried looking for a normal picture of y/n and this was all i found

maxverstappen posted a story tagging y/ninsta

written: celebrating my favourite person

maxverstappen posted a story

written: someone is happy with the birthday desert that the restaurant provided

y/bff posted a story

written: why tf is she holding it like that, mY pReCIoUs

maxverstappen posted a story

written: safe to say y/n loves cake

maxverstappen

liked by y/ninsta, belladubois, marcuslambert and 1,392,384 others

tagged: y/ninsta

maxverstappen: happy birthday my love

view all 59,293 comments

y/ninsta: i love you so much but those pictures are questionable

maxverstappen: they really capture your vibe

belladubois: love you both, can't wait for all the double dates to come

maxverstappen: thank you bells

y/bff: she is still mine

maxverstappen: don't worry she made that very clear

liammaes: did y/n have to teach you what a hard launch is

maxverstappen: no

marcuslambert: y/ninsta is he lying

y/ninsta: he is definitely lying

lucasdukes: so happy for you both

maxverstappen: thanks man

user4: i can't believe in the 2024 we have max y/n again and all six of max's cheerleaders commenting on his instagram

user5: i am so happy that you guys are actually together

user6: i can't believe he posted this at ten minutes to midnight on her birthday

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[animeyanderelover]

Yay, your recs are open! Hope you're doing great and your health is good :)

This one is pretty dark, so ignore this if smth!

If you know about Tomie, could you do some jjk characters of your choice with a darling with similar powers? Like, she can't die fully, always returns no matter how cruel was her death, and for some reason all non-sorcerers are going crazy after being in contact with her for a some time – and, maybe, at some point even a yandere starts feeling a strange need to cause harm to her. Bonus points if she gives femme fatale vibes, but actually is much sweeter and kinder person than she may look.

Thanks, and have a great day!

I hope you don't mind that I made the darling in here the curse of obsession because this would fit the theme very nicely and would crank the Yandere scale to an incredibly creepy level. I know a bit about her since my best friend is a huge fan of Junji Ito works and she especially adores Tomie and Uzumaki.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, manipulation, isolation, abduction, death of s/o, murder, mentions of cannibalism, nudity, mentions of dub-con, sexual themes, starvation

The curse of eternal obsession

Okkotsu Yuta

💍​Walking through the streets of Tokyo, no human would suspect you to be the cursed being that you are. Instead there is an aura of allure and mystery around you, something that seems to draw them to you like a moth to a flame. Bound to be consumed by the fire. Yet Yuta seems to bring a quick end to your life when he senses your eerie cursed energy. There are no words spared as he attacks you, your calm and beautiful face chilling as he exorcises you as if you have lived through death already multiple times before. Your face is something that seems to be stuck in his mind as it is the thing he sees as soon as he closes his eyes. It agitates him, disturbs him but he tries to calm himself by reminding himself that he has already killed you. Until he meets you again in the middle of the fight as you sit on the ground, surrounded by the blood of two men who have stabbed each other to death. When your eyes meet his own, there is the same serene look on your face as Rika brutally assaults you and Yuta watches how she tears you apart, a lump in his throat.

💍​You should be dead. He watched how Rika murdered you. He even murdered you one time himself. Yet only a few days later you stand in front of him again, greeting him politely before you walk away, your hair swaying in the wind. Yuta can only watch you with a racing heart whilst you disappear in the crowd. A few days later he receives word that a group of friends were found all dead. The police suspects that all of them strangled and beat each other to death in violent ways that are rare to find and his mind immediately suspects you to be the culprit. Whenever you appear it only takes a few days before news about violent deaths and gruesome suicides appear on the news as your mere presence seems to drive non-sorcerers to madness yet he has seen with his own eyes that you seem to possess an immortality unlike anything he has ever seen. To protect the public from your cursed energy, he captures you the next time he finds you.

💍​Yet when he tracks you down he is witness to a violent crime that would have made the average person empty their stomach. Even Yuta can't help the creeping feeling of horror as he watches a woman dismembering you with a saw before she cuts her own neck with the saw until she dies of blood loss. There is a strange sense of fury flowing through his veins as he collects every part of you, his heart clenching when he picks up your head with dull and lifeless eyes yet to his great disturbance even dismembered and dead, you still possess an attractiveness that he shouldn't feel about a violated corpse. He locks all of the parts away from you instantly and stays away from the room you are in to clear his mind and get away from the cursed energy you still seem to produce even in your temporary death. He can't get a wink of sleep that night as his heart never stops pounding nor does he seem to get your face out of his mind. When he gathers the courage the next morning to peek inside the room, his heart tumbles when he sees that you have regenerated and sit there completely naked, the sight of your body sending sparks of arousal through his body before he hurries up to give you something to wear.

💍​He keeps you there, locked inside the basement and stays as far away from you as possible. He has never encountered a curse such as you that has affected him as greatly as you do and he has to fight constantly against the temptation to see you as he finds himself standing in front of the door separating you from him multiple times a day, his nails digging into his palms as he bites his lips until he can taste blood. Even when he is not seeing you, Yuta can still sense the cursed energy of yours that is wrapping itself around his body like a snake and as weeks pass by, he finds himself falling asleep to horrifying fantasies about you that have him waking up drenched in sweat and with a raging boner that only throws him down into a spiral of disgust, shame and insanity. Until one day after roughly three weeks your cursed energy disappears. He should feel relieved about it yet his heart drops with such intense anxiety that has him nearly ripping out the door leading to your room. As soon as he sees your thin and dead body laying on the ground, he feels something shattering as he suddenly bursts out in tears. He starved you to death.

💍​He carries your light and thin body to his own bed and lays you down before he waits. He sits there and waits for hours in agony until your cursed energy picks up strength again and your body regains its healthy and otherwordly beauty. As soon as your eyes flutter open, Yuta's face is the first thing you sees. His heart starts beating with excitement as he tells you that he will prepare something to eat for you before he rushes to the kitchen. It is only after he has prepared the food and serves it to you that he realises what he is doing and for a short moment he feels a spark of hot wrath that you have reduced him to this yet when you open your mouth and he hears your voice for the first time, his anger melts away. It is a soft and sweet sound that echoes in his mind long after you have told him your gratitude for the food. An infatuated smile appears on his face as he watches you eat the food before he asks you if you would like to take a bath. The following days you suddenly get a lot more freedom, although you are still kept within the house but that isn't solely because you are a threat to non-sorcerers anymore. It is also because Yuta feels a possessive yearning to see you whenever he wants.

💍​You are unlike any curse he has ever seen. Not only are you beautiful and gorgeous but you are also soft-spoken, kind and even somewhat shy. You help him with the household as you insist on showing your gratitude by preparing him meals and washing his clothes to the point where Yuta feels like you are his housewife and that image has his heart racing and his body reacting. You insist on sleeping on the couch when Yuta offers you to share a bed with him as you don't want to breach his private space and you reject it until he snaps at you with a frightening look on his face and a tight grip on your arms that could break bones. He instantly withdraws his hands when he regains his sanity and apologises hastily to you with tears in his eyes. He clings to your warm body at night, taking deep whiffs of your scent. Everything about you drives him crazy, the feeling of your skin against his electrical. There is a constant arousal keeping him half-hard at night as temptation grows stronger until he starts dry-humping against your thigh or ass, praying that you are asleep. Until you one night run your fingers soothingly through his hair whilst he is humping, causing him to let out a choked moan as he cums.

💍​Yuta spends weeks on cloud nine as he fully indulges in everything. He treats you like his precious wife as he buys you cute dresses and even gifts you a ring which he insists for you to wear. You never deny him anything as you allow his touchy behavior as he holds your hands, kisses you and eventually even has sex with you and this fuels Yuta's delusion that you feel the same as he does. It is almost sickening how sweet he acts with you. All until one day he crosses paths with an acquaintance who knew someone who came in contact with you and when Yuta finds out that they know about your existance, he suddenly feels a feeling of paranoia about your safety as he suddenly sees this non-sorcerer as a threat to you. He feels the urge to call out Rika but decides to pry for information for now. They open up to him, perhaps because they just want to tell someone who shows interest as no one has believed them so far and the story that they tell him shatters his pretty delusion. They tell him how their dead ex-lover left them for you, abducted you and apparently even had sex with you and how they called them moments before they jumped from a building to tell them in tears that they ended up killing you.

💍​Yuta lets Rika kill that person within the same day as a wrath has suddenly festered inside of him. At first he believes that they are lying because you only love him and you would never allow another person to touch you the same way he touches you. You love him. But when he sees their corpse, a realisation slowly settles in. You are a curse. A curse that has always driven people mad and Yuta is no exception. He's just killed an innocent non-sorcerer. And it's your fault. Disgust, pain and wrath cause him to spiral down violently as he all but storms back to his house to murder you and take revenge on you for deceiving and using him. When he arrives home, he finds you asleep on the couch and for a moment his eyes just take in your beauty as you lay there so innocently before his gaze zooms in on your neck. In the next moment he is choking you, his body on top of yours. Your eyes fly open as you start whining and choking whilst he is watching you with a dark glint in his eyes, taking in with joy your suffering form. Then your eyes meet his own though. No shock, ne fear, no guilt. Instead all he sees inside those orbs is acceptance and pity. You are pitying him.

💍​It is this look in your eyes that throws him off as he lets go and stumbles away from you, staring at you with shock and agitation. Why are you giving him this look?! You don't say anything as you instead just give him a sweet smile that tears his heart open. What kind of monster are you to deceive him even now? You know how much he adores that smile of yours. He's on the verge of crying as he pulls out his katana to dismember you but then he suddenly freezes. His wrath dies down as he stares at the katana in his hands and his eyes widen as he drops it and sinks down on his knees as he suddenly becomes aware of his own horrifying thoughts he just had. He just looks at you for a few minutes before he suddenly bursts out in tears when he seems to realise something. That you never had any choice but allow people to do what they want to do with you. Your own curse brings you as much misery as everyone around you and your immortality forces you to endure it over and over again. You are a victim. He crawls back on top of you and apologises to you whilst his hot tears fall on your face, promises you in between sweet kisses on your neck that he will never harm you again.

Gojo Satoru

🩵​There you are, walking through the streets together with a man following you with infatuated eagerness as he constantly points at stores and offers to blow all of his money on you yet you only shake your head politely. Your cursed energy isn't oppressing nor is it filling the entire area but Satoru can sense how potent it is as he happens to be in the same area as you. He's currently there to buy something for his students when he senses you and blue eyes instantly race over the crowd to detect the source of it. An exceptionally beautiful man himself, even he can't deny your sheer beauty as he finally finds you. He watches as you point to a store selling candy and the man who is accompanying you eagerly nods his head before he rushes to buy you something. You seem to observe him for a while before you turn your head in an inhuman way and your own glowing eyes meet Satoru's as you have recognised his presence as well and want to let him know about it. Your cursed energy spikes and Satoru wonders if he will have to use his Domain Expansion if you decide to attack but you don't seem to plan on doing so as you crack your head back and wait with folded hands for the man to return.

🩵​Something about you is off though, majorly off, so Gojo decides to follow you. You have clearly seduced the man who seems to be on all four for you and Satoru doesn't blame him. You are beautiful and gorgeous as even your cursed energy is tempting but that won't stop Gojo from exorcising you. He is even bold enough to approach you when your victim leaves you alone for a moment to murmur in your ear that you appear quite calm despite the fact that you know that he is following you. You only glance at him briefly and Satoru almost drowns in those enchanting eyes of yours before a loud yelling interrupts him. So lost was he in your gaze that he didn't even notice the man returning. If looks could kill, Gojo would have died thrice now as he can quite literally see the man shaking with rage and for a few seconds Gojo is convinced that he will come for his throat before the man just grabs your hand violently and drags you away. Blue eyes narrow as Satoru waits for a while before he decides to trail after you again. He suddenly has a bad feeling about this and eventually he finds out the apartment where the man apparently lives. He's already standing in front of the door when the commotion suddenly starts.

🩵​Loud screams and wails belonging to the man are heard, crying out your name before they are followed by screams of pain and the shattering of a window. That's when Gojo breaks the door open and the scene he sees inside is not pretty. Shards of a broken vase are stuck in your neck and even your now deformed face and the shattered window is painted with red blood from the now dead man who must have hit his head against it until it broke and he died. Yet Gojo can still sense the cursed energy from you, can almost feel it crawling towards his own body. He watches your bloody form alarmed, something warning him that something truly isn't right with even though he can't figure out what it is. When he notices your fingers twitching and your body twisting, he acts quicker than he can even react as he kills you and senses your cursed energy vanishing completely. A few days later he decides to visit the graveyard of the man as he has for some reason not been able to forget about you. When he senses a familiar cursed energy though, he feels his muscles tensing as this shouldn't be possible. Yet there you are, kneeling in front of the graveyard.

🩵​He is instantly behind you, throwing a shadow over you as his hands linger over your head as if considering to rip it off yet he doesn't as his eyes narrow in confusion and wariness. You are supposed to be dead. Why are you still alive? You lean your head back to look at him and only greet him politely before you arrange the flowers you have brought with you on the man's grave before standing up again and leaving. The white-haired man stops you though as he grabs your arm so tightly that your bone might break as he asks you how you are still alive. You cascade your gaze very shortly down to the ground, seemingly reminiscing about something, before you meet his intense gaze. He could swear that you almost look a bit sad as you merely tell him that you are eternal. You hold his gaze for too long until he feels threatened to get lost in those eyes again which causes him to let go of you. Blue eyes are glued to your form as you walk gracefully away, his eyes roaming over the shape of your body until he can't sense you anymore. Only then does he feel the urge to follow you die down a bit.

🩵​He is almost ashamed of his own lack of self-control when he senses your energy a few weeks later again and the urge to see you again just takes over him. Truth is, he has been thinking about you a lot ever since. Your mysterious words have stuck with him as he has been trying to figure out what you meant and your hypnotising gaze has been following him in his sleep. He is shocked to find you though. Half-naked and with deep cuts littering your skin as you are held down by the neck as the man above you traces a long knife down the curves of your body. Briefly he is reminded of your deformed face and bloody body when he met you for the first time and suddenly rage starts to cloud his vision. A hot wave of jealousy falls over him for the way the man touches you so closely and ire takes hold of him for it looks like he is about ro rape you. Gojo knocks him instantly out, perhaps a bit too strong as blood starts seeping from his head. He quickly offers you the jacket he is wearing to cover your bare upper body with before he grabs your wrist and tells you that you'll come with him. You beg him to call an ambulance for the man before you come with him and Satoru is surprised to hear those words.

🩵​He almost doesn't want the man to receive help but then he snaps out of it and gives you his phone to call the ambulance. It is strange that a curse wants to help a human, especially since that human looked like he was about to sexually force himself on you and kill you at the same time. You are indeed very strange and he finds himself looking at you the entire time out of curiosity and since your beauty is very outstanding. He should kill you but he has already tried this and somehow you just appeared again so he has a feeling that it wouldn't work even if he would try again. He doesn't want to kill you for some reason though. Instead he brings you to his home and tells you that he wants to keep you in here until he has figured out what you are and what to do to you. You give him a silent nod before you ask him if there is anything you can do whilst he keeps you here and this is not what Gojo expected to hear. You really are a peculiar curse. He monitors you very closely the following days as you walk around the house to memorise the interior and every room and whe he realises that you seem to have a love for books, he ends up buying you entire shelves worth of them. The giddy grin you give him has his heart pounding.

🩵​You are well-read and seem to have existed for quite a long time already as far as Satoru can tell from the knowledge you share with him. As much joy as it gives him to see you happy, he starts feeling jealous that you spend so much time reading books. He wants attention, more attention than you already give him. It just isn't enough. It escalates very quickly when you one day ask him to wait until you have finished this book. Only a few pages are left yet somehow those words make Satoru snap as he snatches the book out of your hands and rips it apart. Blue eyes ablaze with agitation yet also a familiar look to you as he bends down so that he is on eye height with you. Hands grab your own harshly, squeezing them as he tells you in a low voice that he despises if you ignore him. You look into his gorgeous eyes, seemingly unfaced from the way he glowers at you before you carefully free one of your hands and reach tentavively out to touch his face. His Infinity is already deactivated, allowing you to touch his face. He lets out a satisfied hum as one of his hands grabs your one touching his cheeks, blue eyes gleaming as he looks at you.

🩵​His Infinity around you is mostly deactivated as he encourages you to touch him as much as he is already touching you. Your touches are warm and addictive and he seemingly can't get enough of them. Often you find yourself trapped beneath him, his arms wrapped around your waist and his head on your chest. You sometimes asks him what he plans to do with you as he is a sorcerer and you are a curse yet he always shuts you up, mostly by kissing you to silence all of your sounds. He does know that technically he should find a way to exorcise you or to at least seal you away yet his whole body is filled with rage when he considers it. He has to keep you a secret from other sorcerers under all means necessary. Not only because of their demands but also because he fears that they would desire you too for your beauty and gentle nature. He notices that you never seem to protest or stop him whenever he becomes very touchy and as sick as that is, Satoru finds himself abusing this. Within a short time he is able to fully indulge in his desires as your nude body is pressed against his own, teasing you here and there as he claims you for himself. He has never seen someone more beautiful than you.

🩵​Satoru is almost drunk on you and every word and gesture you do as he is convinced that he would kill anyone who would try to take you away from him. Yet the willingness of yours to let him do whatever he wants with you soon turns into a festering jealousy as he starts wondering if you allowed all the people before him to do everything to you as well. He shouldn't care considering that your curse seems to make people naturally obsessed with you and that he isn't the first and most likely not the last one yet he has already fallen under your spell. His heart threatens to burst as he realises that he will fade whilst you will continue. He won't let anyone else have you after him! You are assaulted by him whilst you are changing clothes, a desperate look in those blue eyes as he begs you to tell him how he can murder you as he tells you about his wish to kill you when his time comes so that no one else will be able to have you after him. When you confess to him that you don't know how you can die, you see the anger and madness flaring up in his eyes as if he is about to attempt to murder you again then and there before he manages to regain his self-control and tells you in a sweet tone that he'll find a way.

[nxtaliaistyping]

Oh god, being a maid employed at the Addams family mansion.

Authors note: I love posting the most shameless, self indulgent shit.

18+ smut, bisexual fem reader, threesomes, switch vibes all around

Going feral, you're a young woman who goes for the maid position, being part time means you can still study at college while earning some extra cash. The vibe of the family doesn't put you off, in fact it actually draws you in, which captures the attention of the lord and lady of the house.

Both of them are so in love, always having their hands on each-other as you're interviewed, as they explain to you how they aren't exactly a normal family. And both of them don't miss the way the other's eyes will trace to the image of your thighs peaking out from under your skirt.

After you leave, they can't help but fuck right there on the table, whispering promises to seduce you, to have you under them soon enough.

It starts with your uniform, which you suppose does fit with the old fashioned vibe of the family, however the traditional maid outfit is quite...short. So short in fact that when you bend over to dust, your panties nearly gave poor Uncle Fester a fright as he came in.

Sneaking glances at you as you clean, no matter what you do you have both Morticia and Gomez’s attention. Their eyes are trained on you as you clean their house and cook meals for their children.

“She’s so flawless, so sweet and innocent.”

“Oh Gomez, isn’t she just?”

You could cut the sexual tension with a knife whenever it was just you and them, usually they’d schedule you to be in whenever the rest of the family was out. And the whole time they’d take any excuse to be near you, to gently touch your arm while you speak, to brush your hair out of your eyes as they praise you for the good work you do, how happy they are to have such a devoted maid.

Any of you could crumble first (my money is on Gomez), but when that happens, there’s no stopping the couple from showing you all the earthly pleasures they can. And my god they're a kinky couple.

Their favorite thing to do is to have you in the middle of them both, greedy hands running over every inch of your skin. One of their hands always ends up between your thighs, circling your clit while your other partner's hand would be groping your tits, pinching at your sensitive nipples to make you cry out and whimper for them.

All the while they'll compliment you heavily, praising every inch of you.

"Such a good girl for us, and a gorgeous one too."

"oh tesoro, she's right. You're gorgeous, and all ours."

Or they'd take it in turns. One night, Gomez has you and his wife on your knees for him, kissing eachother over his cock before he fucks you both. Another night, Morticia has you both bound as she tortures you two so deliciously that by the end, you and Gomez are slurring your words. And one glorious night they hand the reigns completely to you, allowing you to be in control.

After a while, the three of you would settle into a routine. You'd come and clean and do their laundry, and in return they'd make you cum at least three times. Most likely they'll up your pay too, telling you how such a gorgeous hardworking girl shouldn't have to worry about finances.

Reaching up to grab something, only to feel Morticia's hands grope under your dress. Bending over slightly and feeling Gomez's bulge pressed firmly against your ass.

Just being their little pet, so eager to serve them in every way <3

[vacayisland]

LAST BUT NOT LEAST

Floyd x Motherly! Reader

Species and gender your choice- I’m just seeing reader is sweet, calm, mature. Calls everyone baby- always helpful. Maybe Floyd and reader are already dating? And reader calls Floyd the most embarrassing nicknames(sugarplum), number one fan-maybe some mortica vibes? Idk! You have fun with this one

@!; oh, Oh... Floyd / Motherly! Reader

"Summary"! Floyd loves you for many reasons, too many to count on his fingers or toes; too many to remember in one sitting when he's asked that simply question 'what do you love above them?'; too many to make a list of that won't expand pages and pages. Yet, he knows what he loves the most about you; you complete him in the best ways possible. "Tags"! say it with me... fluff, fluff, FLUFF!!, not proof read either :(

@!; Floyd knew you before he got captured by Veneer and Velvet. He knew you from his travels around the world in an attempt to find himself after the group broke up. He actually found you in Lonesome Flats, despite not being a country troll (or maybe you were), leaning against the window inside a western building. You had been talking to Delta with such a bright smile, Floyd couldn't help but slow down his walk to stare at it; noticing to dimples on your cheeks, the way your eyes lit up as you spoke, and the passion in your voice. It was intoxicating. It drew him in. So hesitantly, he kept his distance but kept near your little building. He didn't mean to ease drop, yet he overheard your conversation: "So, anyone catch ya' eye yet, sweetheart?" Delta's country twang was more noticeable every time she decided to tease you about this subject. You knew she only wanted to see a reaction out of you. Though you couldn't help but smile at her, wafting off the scent of a plum pie you had just finished. "No, not yet, Ma'am." Your voice was soft, a subtle hum to it that Floyd had caught. It made him choke up a bit, though he tried not to focus on that feeling. "Aw, come on, pickin's ain't that slim." Delta chuckled as she crossed her arms, grinning back at you. "And I know many fine Trolls who wouldn't waste takin' you out for dinner... and maybe some wilder ones who would take ya to a rodeo show."

And she winked, causing you to shake your head as you maintained your smile and composure. Despite being teased, Floyd could only describe you as calm and relaxed. Your shoulders weren't stiffened and you didn't crinkle your nose at anything Delta said; it was like her words didn't effect you, yet you were listening intently and responding to her accordingly. "Oh, yes Ma'am. I know that." As you softly laughed at Delta's attempted, you tested the pie's temperature and deemed it cool enough to cut. You took your knife and began to slice the pie into 12 even pieces. "Then let me set ya' up with someone!- Thank you, darlin'." You handed Delta a slice of pie as she spoke, knowing plum was her favorite. Quickly, you searched for a fork and then handed that to her too. She continued, "A pretty gal such as yourself shouldn't have to be kept waitin', though you do deserve your perfect someone." Oh, so you were a baker? Floyd noted that to himself, noticing that the pie that Delta was munching on as you spoke seemed to have some personal touches. Such as some honey baked into the plums, the crust being a little more golden than pies in the Pop Troll village, as well as some sugar that had crystalized at the top. It looked delicious... and it made his stomach growl. Floyd didn't think his stomach actually growled, he didn't catch it. Thus he was both startled and confused when you turned your attention over to him, your soft eyes matching the soft nature you carried yourself. "Are ya' hungry?" Floyd covered his stomach with his arm, a bit self conscious as you called him out. But he didn't feel called out; in an odd way he felt seen. Delta soon turned her attention over to Floyd while taking a bite of the pie. She held up the plate with a grin, "Come on, don't be shy, bumpkin'! Our Miss (Y/N) is the best baker in town and you won't find talent like this; She's like a needle in a hay stack, she is." "Oh, um.. okay." Floyd walked over to the window, noticing how your grin grew slightly larger and your eyes seemed to catch this sparkle in them. You grabbed him a plate, a slice of pie, and a fork almost instantly and placed it on your window ceil for him. "Here ya' go!" Service with a smile. Yet Floyd patted his pockets, and even dug around in them, for something to give you in exchange for the generous slice of pie. He fell short, "Oh- um, I don't have anything-" "Oh don't worry about payment, sugarplum!" Your words caught Floyd off guard, his round eyes shot up to meet yours. "Baking is just a hobby, I don't ask for anything in return; well, other than friends with full bellies and big grins. Seeing people enjoying my baking is enough payment for me." Floyd had kind of believed in love at first sight; but he didn't realize it actually could happen.

@!; Sometime after Floyd first meeting you and before he got captured, Floyd had confessed his feelings to you. Confessed that he had loved you since he saw you that first day when you gave him a plum pie. Confessed that he adored everything about you; he adored your laugh and your smile; he adored the way you worried about him, but not in an overpowering way, the way you always were there for him, the way that he could come back to you at the end of the day and you will be waiting with open arms. He adored the way you mothered him a little. Not in the way a mother would actually mother their children, yet in the way you were so caring and compassionate, while being sensible and calm made his heart beat out of his chest. You were perfect in every way, shape, and form. He loved you so much it hurt him more to imagine what you were going through when he had gotten captured by Velvet and Veneer. It was complete anguish to think about you sitting on the couch by the door in the little home you two made, waiting for him to only go on days without anything to report. It choked him up to think he could be the reason you were hurting at this moment. But he just hoped you could wait a little longer, hold out a little more, (you always had managed to, though it burns him to think to ask this of you) for him; and he will take everything just to be able to return back home to you again at the end of the day. One day. one day. Until that day, please.. please hold out. Please don't cry like he is.

@!; The day that Floyd was rescued by his brothers, and Poppy and Viva, after the initial shock wore off his first and only thought was you. It filled his head and he couldn't ignored the thoughts that piled up because everything in his body was screaming for you. For your touch and comfort and he couldn't help but blurt out, "We need to go to Lonesome Flats. Now!" Which got a lot of weird looks from his brothers; mainly Clay, Spruce, and JD looking around wondering what and where 'Lonesome Flats' was while Branch was just plain confused, maybe even a little hurt. Floyd didn't mean to hurt Branch, or any of his brothers by this request, but he needed to make sure you knew he was okay. "The country troll region?" Poppy questioned as she walked over to Branch's side. She tilted her head to the side, "Why do you need to go there?" "Yeah! Why do you need to go there? We just got you back, Floyd." Branch seemed stand-offish by this request, crossing his arms and scrunching his nose a little. Floyd understood where Branch was coming from, he did almost just die in front of all his brothers, but surely they would understand? "Please, just trust me. I.. I need to get back there." Floyd pleaded with his brothers, "I'll explain everything there or on the way. We just- we need to go now! The sooner the better.." And despite everyone's confusion, and unsureness about this all, it was a family road trip to Lonesome Flats. Where, when they finally arrived, Floyd rushed out of the van towards your little bakery. He slowed a bit seeing the window shut and your door not propped open. His eyes widened when he read the sign attached: Closed. But it was your usual opening time, what.. where were you? "There ya' are!" Floyd wiped around hearing Delta's voice. He didn't catch her unfriendly tone at first, though registered it as soon as he caught her face. Still, that didn't stop him, "Delta! Where is (Y/N)?" "More important, where have you been? You've been gone longer than our grazin' cattle, and they returned a month ago!" Delta crossed her arms and let out a huff of annoyance. "You've got your poor-" Though Delta didn't make it far before Floyd saw an all too familiar person out of the corner of his eye. You always managed to steal his attention, and his brothers were even more confused upon seeing Floyd rush over to you; despite stumbling a little bit on his starting sprint due to the lack of energy he has. "Floyd!" Branch called after his brother, just wanting him to be careful. Yet he froze upon feeling Poppy's hand on his shoulder, hearing a small 'aww' escape her lips as she watched Floyd literally jump into your arms. You had noticed him as he ran towards you, and despite carrying a bucket of fresh milk, you dropped it quickly to catch him. Which, was a good idea, since you didn't expect him to cause you to stumble a little. Even so, you laughed as Floyd hid his face in your shoulder feeling your arms tightly hug him. Your hugs were always warm, best described as momma bear hugs. Floyd had missed them and you. He had missed your warmth and your laugh.

"Oh Sugarplum, what happened?" And he missed your gentle nature and calm tone, despite everything he probably put you through after he left. You were gentle as you placed your hands on his shoulders and backed him up a little, so you were looking at each other eye to eye. Floyd couldn't even get a word out before you noticed everything different about him, "Oh my dear.. you look tired! Skinner, and your hair-! Oh my lord, what in the Trollstice happened to your hair, Sugarplum?!" Floyd now had his back facing you, as you had spun him around. Oh, Floyd could just melt at this moment, feeling your hands run through his hair as you took in all the whites that now mingled with the hot pink. He knew you were more used to his darker roots, and not like these whites were natural but he thought they suited him a little more now. Though, just as Floyd was about to answer you, he caught sight of his brothers and the plus ones. And at that moment, wide wide, he knew he had a lot of explaining to do to his brothers...

@!; It wasn't like Floyd was embarrassed of you, far from it, yet when you had him up and about dancing to Brozone.. it caused his cheeks to flush; from both embarrassment and lovingly. It had been a few months after he introduced you to the family, and he was glad his brothers had taken to you like he did and accepted you into the family. Branch was a little on the nose, but he came around.

Now, after a Brozone featured show, the both of you were dancing like crazy people to an old Brozone soundtrack in Poppy's pod. Poppy was trying to get Branch to dance with her while Clay was trying not to give into Viva's silliness.

Bruce was sitting on some chairs with JD, chatting and making fun of the younger brothers; as it was their bug brother duty to.

"Are you tired yet, sugarplum?" JD snickered as he called over to Floyd and you, his hand cupped to the side of his mouth to allow his voice to carry over the record player. Floyd grumbled a little at his brother's antics and tried to chuckle it off, maybe even shoot something back.

Yet he didn't even have to!- "What's wrong with me calling him Sugarplum, John?" Oh. Poppy paused in her pursuit and glanced over to JD with pressed lips and wide eyes, a silent question of what did he just do?

Clay and Branch both seemed to stop as well, Viva being soon to follow. Since meeting, you had never called anyone by their name. It had always been some cute nickname, such as baby or love or princess. Something motherly that made people's hearts warm upon hearing the nickname roll off your tongue with such affection and ease.

Even Floyd has barely ever heard you call anyone by their first name, that was unless they were in trouble. He decided to turn down the record player a little, just so you didn't have to talk over the music.

"Nothing!-" JD put up his hands at once, "It's just-"

"Just what? You wanna tease my darlin' for my decision in calling him sugarplum? Aren't you supposed to be the eldest brother?" You kept Floyd's hands in yours as you cocked an eyebrow up at JD, your eyes narrowing in his direction. Bruce had turned away, silently drinking his milkshake.

"No of course not-" JD started again, though didn't get far before you flashed a bright smile at him.

"Phew! For a second you have me worried there, dumplin'. Thought you were really striking that low!" And JD stared at you and your sudden switch of mood, wondering if he was seeing things or if he wasn't going insane. Either or, you gave Floyd a kiss on the forehead and turned your attention back to him.

"You still have the energy to dance with me, Sugarplum?"

And Floyd swore he fell deeper in love with you, if that was even possible at this point. "With you? Always."

.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D

[httpsserene]

𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝟏 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥

𝘂𝗽𝗹𝗼𝗮𝗱 𝟴: 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗶𝘀 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 | 𝗽𝘂𝘀𝘀𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: if lando achieved a podium at silverstone, you promised you’d give him anything he wants. he thinks about it the whole race weekend, and when the two of you are celebrating his second-place finish, he tells you that he wants to take care of you. you’re disbelieving–he takes care of you every waking hour. lando, on the other hand, said that with his chest. and he’ll prove it to you. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. explicit. not beta read. service top lando. shy/self-conscious!reader. mention of multiple orgasms. mention of vaginal sex. face-riding/sitting. lando is a munch & simp. 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 1k words. 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴:  lando norris x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: drabble. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: lotus flower bomb • wale ft. miguel

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: different type of smut? idk testing out the vibes with this one—yes, this man has one goal this fic and it’s all about you. which i guess is why it edges more into general worship? and not exclusively pussy worship. made myself mad writing this because no man like this exists, me thinks. have fun shawty mamas :)

do you want to be added to my general taglist? send me an ask!

cross-posted on my ao3, htppsss

to see what kinktober uploads have already been completed or to see what's coming next check my f1 kinktober masterlist ! for all of my works see my general masterlist!

lando pulls your body completely against his, chest to chest as you straddle his lap. he tenderly holds the nape of your neck, using his large hand to coax your head backwards. he leans forward to kiss you but pauses at the last second, and smiles at your body language. as soon as his hand gently tangled into your hair, your eyes fluttered shut and your lips pursed in anticipation for a kiss. instead of pressing your lips together like expected, lando kisses you softly on the forehead. you open your eyes halfway in question, and lando beats you to speaking.

“let me,” lando murmurs, his warm eyes gazing at you lovingly, “you said you’d give me anything i want—so, let me take it.”

he watches the astonished look in your eyes fade into a bashful avoidance of eye contact. he pets at your scalp gently, charmed at how you still shy away when you deem his devotion too intense. lando doesn’t understand why you don’t believe that he actually wants to take care of you, why he wants to love you thoroughly. his brain sings in satisfaction every time he makes you satisfied. you’re his soulmate; you’ve become each other’s rock, he’s not sure if he’d manage to withstand the extreme pressure of his life without you. so, of course when you offer yourself to him in exchange for his home race podium finish, he’s going to take advantage of that—and provide you with pleasure, solely. 

lando allows you to hide, but continues to press sweet kisses around your face. he drags his lips from your forehead, to your cheeks, to your brow bone, to your eyelids, to your nose, reveling in the heat that rises to your brown skin at his attention. he kisses you properly when he feels the tension coiled within your muscles dissipate. the slick sound of your lips meeting rings in the brit’s ears, and he moans into your mouth when he feels your manicured nails dig into his shoulders. lando captures your bottom lip between his teeth and nips teasingly; he wants your lips even plumper than they already are, he wants them to swell from his passionate onslaught. when his tongue sneaks past the seam of your lips as they part around a moan, his kisses deepen. his free hand cups your ass and drags you closer to him—there should be no space between your bodies. he’s become lost under the weight of his own kisses and swallows down every keening moan, whimper, and whine that you breathe into his mouth. he wouldn’t mind if this is as far as he took it tonight, sharing kisses like these quiets his urge to move along. you, however, care little for lando’s content; you begin to circle your hips down onto him in tight, almost unnoticeable grinds. he breaks the kiss to sigh shakily, and fulfills the question he knows you’re not going to vocalize.

“pretty girl,” lando hums at the sight of your already disheveled appearance, you look fucked out. “hmm, you want more, love? yeah, you do—c’mere and ride my face, pretty.” lando chuckles at the way you freeze at his request, and how you choke on your own breath. you’ve been bare on top of him the whole time and unconsciously started searching for more friction from his boxer-clad erection, and you clam up at the idea of grinding on his tongue—like he’s never eaten you out before.

lando doesn’t allow you any time to protest and shrugs off the shirt he’s wearing, tossing it to some random spot on the floor. he relaxes back, lying flat and rests both of his hands on your hips. he watches how your pupils blow, irises shrinking away at your arousal—he’s not going to interrupt you, and gives you ample time to bask in the sight of his toned torso. a handful of seconds pass before your eyes flick upwards to meet his own, and he sees how you automatically hide away from his stare. there’s no need to attempt to hide from him, he knows your intricacies forward and back. lando dismisses your behavior, and bodily lifts you to hover over his mouth. 

he pretends to miss your scandalized cry of his name at the sudden manhandling, and sucks marks into your inner thigh, slowly moving closer and closer to your core. lando presses a final kiss where your navel meets your cunt, and pauses to stare up at you, waiting for your permission. for the first time tonight, you hold eye-contact with him and softly whisper for him to continue, and lando smiles tenderly at the first hint of confidence that leaks into your tone.

building a strong neck is good for his day job, but lando especially appreciates his strengthened neck for this activity alone—he can feast on you without a single complaint concerning cramping or exhaustion. he messily brandishes his tongue through your lips, his moan of delight at your taste vibrating through your most sensitive area. his tongue forms tight circles and flicks against your clit, and he pauses randomly to slurp lewdly against your entrance to make sure he’s not missing any of your essence. lando whimpers depravedly when he feels your hips start to press down on his mouth, rocking against his tongue to direct him where you want—and his eyes flutter shut in pleasure. 

lando will make you come once like this and the resulting dopamine spike will cause your shyness to evaporate. you’ll start riding his face like he wants you to, leading to another orgasm. his goatee will be soaked with your arousal and lando will not care. then, he’ll make you cum once more from his fingers alone—you’ve always had a thing for his hands—and depending on how sensitive you are, lando might make you spray your release all over the fresh bed sheets. he’ll allow himself to fuck you slowly to another orgasm, that coasts over your body smoothly. and when he deems that he’s satisfied his desire of taking care of you, he’s going to paint your thighs white with his release. of course, his pleasure comes second to yours. he has the whole night to worship you, and he doesn’t see his devotion for you faltering any time soon.

taglist: @lorarri @soph1644 @jaydensluv @fanboyluvr @nissaimmortal @redgonerogue @hollie911 @saintwrld@buendiabebeta@butterfly-lover@lana-d3l-rey@dylan1721 @spicybagel14 @dhhdhsiavdhaj@miahgonzalez16@jjaekin @dkbj14 @f1lover55 @f1lov3r @mindless-rock@biancathecool@barnestatic@sweetpiccolo-blog@my-ylenia @zaynzierulez@reblog-princess-blog @lovingaphroditesworld @katekipshidze @darleneslane @inloveallthetime

© httpsserene 2023

[mediumgayitalian]

Nico really fucking hates capture the flag.

Well, not always. Last week was fun. Last week was the annual Everyone Against The Stolls (to atone for their crimes), and Nico got to chase Connor around at top speeds, cackling, committing his shrieking and begs for mercy to memory. That was nice. That almost made him forgive the fucker for digging a trench under Nico’s unwelcome mat for him to fall into at seven thirty in the godsdamn morning.

But tonight’s game is boring.

He’s been standing, alone, at the base of the flag for the past forty bajillion hours. He’d raised a few dozens skeletons to spar with at first, since animating them to fight himself isn’t technically against the rules, but that got dull fast. (It isn’t much fun sparring with a partner who doesn’t have a brain. He already has to do that enough with Percy when he comes to visit camp.) He’d climbed the various trees around the clearing, or at least he tried until he got reamed by the dryads for climbing on a manner that was too annoying (?), and tried his hands at a few summoning spells. Nothing held his interest long.

And now he’s just standing, doing nothing, and he’s not allowed to leave. He has to stay in this stupid spot on the off chance that someone comes stumbling over to fight him for the flag.

“You’re our best swordsman, she said,” he says mockingly, beaming the nastiest vibes he can manage in Piper’s vague direction. “We need you on our defensive line, she said. Nyeh nyeh nyeh.”

His checks his watch. He groans. He looks critically over the grass, looking for a softer patch, and when he locates it he throws himself dramatically upon it, groaning louder.

“This sucks!” he yells, to no one.

“Will you shut up!” shouts back the dryad he pissed off earlier. “For the love of photosynthesis! Fuck!”

He bites his tongue hard to hold back laughter. (If he can avoid getting his entire cabin overgrown with prickle bushes again, that’d be great.) “Sorry,” he calls, trying with everything he has to sound contrite. Convincing his father to fight the Titan War was easier, actually. Acting is not his calling.

“Hmph!”

At least listening to see if she’ll come out and yell at him again provides something to ease his boredom. Yes, he’s going to regret bothering her, but in his defense, solo guarding is cruel and unusual punishment. He’d rather sit by an outlet with a fork and see if he can poke and let go fast enough to avoid dying. That at least would be interesting.

A rustling of leaves recaptures his attention, and he pauses.

“Holly?”

When no one answers, which is odd because she’s taken every opportunity in the last hour to either insult him or pelt him with stones, he lifts his head.

“You’re not going to scare me, dude. I had my fear glands surgically removed to become a better soldier.”

Not true. Obviously. But a fun bonus of being the camp weirdo is that no one doubts anything he says. He’s working on convincing everyone younger than him that he needs weekly tributes of chocolate delivered to his door every Friday or the dead are going to take over the world. So far, it’s working.

“Look, Holly, I’m sorry about the zombie, okay, I promise it didn’t mean to sneeze part of its brain on you —”

The rustling sounds again, only this time Nico can see that it’s not Holly’s tree, and in fact she is nowhere to be found. Alarmed, he jumps to his feet, shifting so he’s balanced on the balls of his feet, poised to attack. Is Piper’s plan failing? Has someone actually managed to make it all the way over here without getting (gently, probably, although they lost the last game and Piper gets cranky without dessert) maimed?

The rustling sounds for a third time. This time, an armoured someone stumbles out of the underbrush, tripping over their own foot and nearly landing flat on their face.

Nico has his sword at their throat in a millisecond.

“Wo-oah, Morbius. That’s probably my least favourite sword you could stab in me.”

Nico goes bright red. “I have never wanted to stab you more than right this second.”

Will, chest plate skewed to the right, quiver completely empty, and black paint smeared under his eyes, snickers. He puts a finger on the tip of Nico’s sword and pushes it away from his neck.

“The opportunity was right there, babe. I couldn’t not.”

“You really, really could. In fact at all times, you should remember these words of wisdom: shut up.”

“…Damn. Inspiring.”

Nico rolls his eyes, but the effect is somewhat lessened by the smile on his face and the obvious pleasure in his expression. He’s even feeling merciful enough to accept Will’s kiss, although his sword keeps a good amount of distance between them. (Will’s on the blue team, after all. It would be unprofessional to be fraternizing with the enemy.

…Well, too much, anyway.)

“What’re you doing here? You’re supposed to be with the other archers, sitting in trees and causing havoc.”

Will shrugs, grinning lazily. “I quit. This game is senselessly violent and I’m Against It On Principle. I’m a pacifist, you know.”

“Uh huh.” Nico raises an eyebrow. “I assume this doesn’t count you choking Cecil out in a headlock, this morning.”

Will opens his mouth. Nothing comes out. He closes it again.

“Cecil is my mortal enemy,” he grudges after a moment. “He doesn’t count.”

“‘Course not. Not like you cried for two hours when he went to visit his mom last weekend or anything.”

“Will you — stop saying I cried. I barely teared up, okay. Barely.”

Nico can’t quite force down the stupid grin that pulls across his face, matching Will’s, nor can he resist grabbing the leather straps of his boyfriend’s armour and hauling him close.

“You better not be here to distract me,” he mumbles, leaning close and pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw, the corner of his mouth. Will hums, settling his hands on Nico’s hips.

“Nope. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Drama queen.”

“Excuse — I am the least dramatic, I’ll have you know. I’m a pinnacle of solemnity. I am a shining beacon of stoicism. I am — mmfh,” He trails off. “Okay, doing this now, mhm.”

Nico smiles triumphantly into the kiss. Will, he has found, is very easy to shut up, despite his long-running nickname of Motormouth. It’s almost like he has an off button that can be accessed only by Nico sticking his tongue in his mouth. Nico is doing his civic duty, honestly. He should be compensated for his service.

(‘Course, doesn’t hurt that Will smells, like, really good, all the time, and his lips are soft as hell and he is actually quite the kisser, in fact. That is definitely a fun bonus.)

He smooths his hands over Will’s shoulders, travelling up the sides of his neck and settling in his hair. Will keens, slightly, when he wraps a finger around a frizzy golden curl and tugs, slightly, when he scratches his nails along his scalp. The rush of power at the feeling makes Nico dizzy, and his sword clatters to the ground as he busies himself with more interesting — and important — things.

Like pulling more of those sounds from his boyfriend’s throat. Or making his knees buckle, again, like he did the other night — gods, that was good, it made Will flush scarlet and Nico feel like he was fuckin’ floating, to have Will so needy and touchy and totally at his mercy —

“Free line to the flag! Go go go go!”

Nico startles, whirling towards the sudden cacophony of noises. To his horror, what looks like half the camp, helmets shining with plumes of blue, comes pouring into the clearing, weapons raised, voices mixing in one long, victorious shout. He lunges for his sword, but before he can grab it, two strong arms tighten around his torso, pinning his hands to his side.

Immediately, he knows he’s been set up.

“Oh, you — fucker!”

He feels the curve of Will’s grin against his neck. “First shower privileges for a whole month, baby.” He noses along his jaw, pressing an apologetic kiss to his cheek. “Couldn’t resist.”

Nico struggles, aghast, watching the once-red flag shimmer in Lou Ellen's hold to a bright, shining blue. “I am breaking up with you, you traitor, you Iago, you vixen — ”

Will snorts. He ducks down and pecks Nico on the lips, again, and again, and then shifts to his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, his temples, his forehead, and all over his face, making louder and louder mwah sounds until Nico is laughing, punching his shoulder and shoving him away.

“Okay! Okay. Let me go, you villainous toad. We will discuss how much you’ll have to grovel for my forgiveness after Piper finishes yelling at me for getting distracted.”

Will presses one last kiss to his nose, smiling cheekily before stepping away, heading towards his boasting team. “Enjoy that lecture! Love you!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Nico rolls his eyes, resting his aching cheek in his hand. “Love you too, asshole.”

[mandalhoerian]

Shai! Shai! I've thought of another scenario for Leon😊 Altho being a new fan I've come to the conclusion that Leon is the type to believe he's not good enough for his partner, he believes they could do better then him. So imagine a Leon who has finally accepted he has feelings for you and works up the courage to confess only for you to turn the tables on him and say you dont feel good enough for him. I imagine he would be in disbelief? How would he react to his crush telling him "You're too good for me Leon."?

too good for me | leon kennedy x reader

pairing: leon kennedy x reader (unspecified gender) genre: fluff, miscommunication, the "endeared badass x normal person scared shitless of the endeared badass" trope. no spice, unfortunately. only good vibes and leon being head over heels smitten. enjoy! word count: 2.7K? It's short! notes: hi sarah! i am SO SORRY this has taken forever. you requested this one month ago! its been so hectic lately, i've been having health problems that required regular hospital visits and tests upon tests, but now that my surgery (yeah i know... yikes) is authorized i'm only waiting for them to call me for the date and have all the time in the world to get my rest and write. i'm also working on your other (wink wink) request! thank you so much for being patient with me. hope this is what you had in mind! i also added my touch and ideas to it lmao. happy reading!!

🌀 read on ao3!

“You’re too good for me,” is the hesitant, small answer you give him while avoiding eye contact and playing with your fingers in front of your office’s shared coffee maker Leon had made countless paperwork excuses to be able to simply stop by — to his question, that is, about why you wouldn’t go on a simple date with him. 

You puff out an awkward laugh to smooth things over as humorous but it’s forced and not at all sincere. 

It’s taken Leon a whole inner journey (Spain. Mostly the simultaneous trauma and catharsis of Spain) to get over himself to recognize what his heart truly wanted but was too pussy to look at before, yet here you two are. The lone angel in his life telling the failure Leon is that he’s too good? For you?

He simply stares, dumbly standing there, piping hot coffee that’s actually incompatible with his taste buds he insists he must do a detour to get from here simply because you often do, stiff and awkward in his hold, thinking he heard you wrong because he hasn’t gotten a good night’s rest — rest, not sleep — in forever since he came back from Spain. 

He’s been forcing himself to come to work just for a glimpse of you and your pretty face to recharge his battery, heal his soul a bit, let you be all that occupies his mind despite being laid off after that outrageous mission that resulted in the president’s unwanted favor and nightmares upon nightmares with only anxious yet soothing thoughts of you as the best bad out of the worst he’s had to face— and what is it that you said again?  

“You’re joking right?” Leon says, pride not knowing if it should be broken or not because he’s not sure to take this as a rejection, and it isn’t his intention for it to sound that harsh. He’s not some asshole who can’t take no for an answer, it’s your reasoning that has him downright jamming like a gun.

Leon has to remind himself to switch off work mode because now you look mousey as if he has a paw on your tail, shoulders pulled into yourself.  “Sorry!” He feels so bad, heart expanding within his ribcage and it aches, fuck, he just wanted to ask you out and all he’s doing is scaring you. “I’m sorry, you were kidding. I didn’t get it— I’m kinda slow and you sound flat sometimes, of course you weren’t serious, I’m—”

“No, I was serious.” His eyebrows furrow at yet another self-degradation from you. “It’s you who has to be kidding. What do you mean too good for you?”

You are at a loss of words, mouth opening but nothing coming out, and finally look him in the eye and all Leon wants to do is lean down and capture your mouth, he’s heavily distracted by you licking your lips and swallowing, the sighting of the tip of your pink tongue makes his shirt suddenly suffocating and tight. 

“I mean,” you begin tentatively, unaware of what’s going on in his head, vaguely gesturing to Leon. “Well… You’re you, I mean… And I’m. Me. Look at you and look at me. Why would you even…?”

“Hey,” Leon sets his mug on the counter, closing his eyes and pinching the insides with his thumb and pointer. The implications alone sent a zapping headache through his skull that he knows he has to rest to be able to unpack, especially when he’s finally decided on seriously pursuing you in spite of himself. Leon can’t let this remain unaddressed, for your sake and his sanity. “How about I wait for you after work today and we talk about this somewhere else?” He’s squinting. “In detail.”

“We don’t really need to—”

“We do.” Leon wants you to see he’s serious about this — about you. “Because I see something here that I want to pursue and we can’t have any misunderstandings. Would appreciate it if you at least give me the chance to clear the air.”

“P-pursue?” You swallow and Leon’s mind wanders again. “Clear the air you say…”

He breathes in. “Can you give me your phone?”

You slap it into his palm almost immediately, the speed with which you obey him without asking him any questions surprises him. He wants to scold if you’re willing to hand over your mobile to any guy who asks, but supposes it’s not his place — is frustrated this is what it takes to get him annoyed, as well. He isn’t some young adult. Weirdly, you make him feel like one.  

He’s punching his own number in, despite the conflicting feelings, finally feeling like this is getting somewhere and he’s doing it when you start talking again, nervous. “You can uh, clear the air… right here… without taking me to a secondary location…” 

His eyes flick up to yours in confusion and you look to the right immediately, and back to him. To the right. Back to him. It’s somehow comedic, because why do you look like you’re cornered by some bad guy? 

You really look like you want to be anywhere else than here, Leon’s fucking this up and he doesn’t even know what he’s doing wrong. Was he going too fast? Should he have told you his number and let you save it instead? 

You’re mumbling, nervousness clear as day for reasons he can’t fathom, he hears you, but he doesn’t really understand. 

“What? What's wrong?" Leon asks, his voice laced with genuine concern. He takes a step closer, wanting to bridge the gap between you and alleviate whatever discomfort you were experiencing. "You seem... uneasy. Did I do something wrong?"

Your eyes meet his briefly, then quickly shift away again, as if you are struggling to find the right words. 

Leon's heart sinks. His intention wasn’t to make you feel nervous or pressured, especially when he is genuinely trying to connect with you — then, in a brilliant moment of heart-stopping realization, the fact that you might just not be interested slaps him in the face and he’s…

Well. Wouldn’t that be the reality? 

Leon is… He isn’t exactly the ideal man. Not with what he does, and how his life is. He’s aware of that. Have been running from forming connections because of what he knows will end up happening because of that. He can’t get attached and keep losing people — can’t keep getting hurt in the vicious cycle to prevent everyone from getting hurt. It’s been the bane of his existence ever since STRATCOM plucked him off straight from Raccoon City. Even if you work in the same field as him, just different offices, who is to say it will work out anyway? 

He’s getting ahead of himself. You might not like him at all in the first place. Jesus. 

Maybe you see him for what he is. Maybe you think he’s not  —- the effort’s not worth it, and you wouldn’t exactly be wrong in thinking so. You could be wanting something else in life that he only has the desire to give you, and not the promise. He wouldn’t blame you, hell, who would blame someone for being their own person with their thoughts, wishes, wants and goals in life? 

You’re too good for me, really, is his line. It has been right from the beginning, his excuse in running away from his undeniable, frightening attraction to you.

"No, it's not you," you finally managed to articulate, prompting Leon to release the breath he was holding, your voice shaky, playing with your fingers. "I just... I feel a bit overwhelmed. This is all happening so fast, and I never expected..."

Leon nods, his expression softening as he realizes the weight of the situation. He hasn’t fully considered how his sudden confession and determination to pursue you might have caught you off guard. He has been so focused on his own feelings that he hasn’t taken into account your own thoughts and emotions.

"I understand," he replies, voice gentle and reassuring. "I didn't mean to overwhelm you. I just... I couldn't keep my feelings to myself anymore. But please know that I don't expect an immediate answer or any commitment from you. I just… Well. I just wanted to tell you. See where this goes. Or, maybe, if that’s not the case… Get rejected for good so I can move on, you know?"

You laugh a little and it’s genuine — you have no idea how it turns Leon’s heart into putty right where it hangs between two lungs. “Do you really mean all of that?”

“Of course,” he says, offended the tiniest bit. “Why do you think I would joke about something like this?”

“It’s not about you joking, really…” You’re uncomfortable again, hesitating to tell him something. 

“Hey, you can tell me.”

“Can you promise you won’t get mad?”

“What am I, your father?” He snorts. “Come on, tell me.” 

You brace yourself for it and he doesn’t understand why until you say it. “You, um… You’re kinda scary.”

He blinks. “Sorry?”

“Sorry!” You raise your hands up in panic. “I don’t really mean it like that, not to insult you or anything, it’s actually admirable, I’m just saying! Discipline, work ethic, unmatched field performance! You’re very… Very, uh… Intimidating, yeah, that’s the word…? I mean, like… You, uh, you’re famous, you know, we all know your work, you’re very hard working, working hard, very hard work — uh, um… So it’s…”

“I scare you?” Leon swears he felt his eyes get bigger the faster you kept on vomiting words. “You think I would hurt you?” 

“No!” You reject strongly, waving a nervous hand at him. Silence befalls later, which you follow awkwardly with a silent, guilty. “Maybe,” after clearing your throat. 

 He had always strived to be a protector, but he hadn't realized that his image and reputation — what it had become after Spain — could have such an effect on someone he cares about. 

"I never meant to scare you," he says softly, his voice filled with genuine remorse, he puts the coffee mug on the counter and leans his hip on it, shoulders sagging a bit as he crosses his arms. The thought of you only feeling intimidation about him leaves a bitter taste worse than the coffee does. "I guess... I've always been so focused on work, on the dangers just around the corner — I’m aware how it might affect my relationships in the long run so I never attempted to form any at all, but I never realized how it might affect how people see me in the first place. I never wanted to make you, of all people, feel this way. I could never hurt you. Never."

“I didn’t want to imply you’re a guy who’d intentionally hurt someone—”

“Don’t worry about it,” he sighs, ruffling his hair to get rid of the awkwardness. “So I’ve just been bugging you this whole time, huh? Jesus. I’m so sorry.”

“No! No, don’t say that, you’re amazing! You’re like a hero around here…”

“Around here doesn’t mean shit,” he replies curtly, and regrets cursing like that in front of you immediately. It’s unbecoming of him — and doesn’t help his image in your eyes at all. He’s getting frustrated. His tone lowers into a softer, more disappointed, heartfelt one. “I only care about how you think of me.” 

“Well, you’re amazing,” you say again, bashfully this time, and it prompts him to look at you. There’s something shy about you now that has him standing taller in anticipation, wondering if it’s him reading this wrong or not. “It’s pretty well-known if you didn’t know.”

“I don’t know,” he prods, idiot heart fluttering at the way you’re flustered. “What do you think? Besides intimidating, I mean. Not reporting on the local gossip this time, if you don’t mind.”

“You seem like a nice guy,” you settle. The middle ground. “I’ve seen you with the president’s daughter.”

Leon's expression softens at your words, a mixture of relief and gratitude washing over him. He takes a deep breath, trying to let go of the tension that had built up within him. The mention brings a slight smile to his face, memories of Ashley flooding his mind, a fondness evident in his eyes. "Ah, Ashley. Yeah, that was quite the adventure. Though what can you be other than a nice guy when your mission is the president’s daughter?"

“I know a couple people who’d treat her like a package to be delivered. You prioritized her wellbeing more than anything.”

“What else was I supposed to prioritize?”

“You know what I mean. Emotional wellbeing. I’ve read your initial report and her statement. You cared about her.” A smile tugs at your lips, he can tell you’re a bit more comfortable now. "Especially during what you’ve been through. It's impressive how you handle yourself in those situations."

He shrugs modestly, a hint of pride shining in his eyes. You respect him. "I guess you could say it comes with the job. But it's not all action and danger, you know. There's more to me than just being a government agent."

Your curiosity piques, and you tilt your head, prompting him to continue. "Tell me more. What's Leon Kennedy like outside of work and missions?"

It catches him off guard that you want to know more and take the first step. You could have just rejected him. His heart picks up, chest expanding in excitement, he’s glad for the opportunity to share a glimpse of his life beyond the chaos of his work — he’s normally not eager to share pieces of his life like this, but… He’d give it to you on a silver platter, whether it'd lure you in or not. That’s how Leon knows he wants this with you so bad. “I wanna lie to woo you but… Would it be too unattractive to tell I really don’t have a life outside of work? I’m still trying to find some balance in my life. The upper echelon guys are pretty ruthless and demanding. I guess it means I can say I’m into traveling?”

“Is this the cool guy way of saying you’re an introvert these days?”

The unexpectedness of it is what gets him to throw his head back to laugh, and he catches you staring, scrambling to rub his face to get rid of it and regain some composure. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Pretty much.”

“Well,” you gesture at him, there’s a vague pink hue dusting your cheeks. “What are you into, then?”

God, he can’t stop, “Other than you?” from escaping his dumb mouth. He shouldn’t have said it. It’s too corny. So uncalled for. Your mouth hangs open and he wishes he could rewind the tape to take it back and choose some other option. “Say… What about we continue this discussion after work? I know a good coffee place. Let me make it up to you for invading your lunch time. I’ll tell you all about me, what do you say?”

You look at the clock on the wall, he knows you didn’t get to have anything because he decided to turn up and serenade you with unwanted attention, it’s two birds with one stone for him if you decide to accept — he wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t see a perfect moment to seize the chance. 

“Coffee sounds perfect,” you nod, with no pressure from him, and it lifts a great weight off his shoulders. “Would it be okay if I eat something too?”

Why are you so adorable? You don’t know that you own the power to get Leon to have your superiors let you go for the day, but he can’t get too excited right now. “Say the word and it becomes a dinner date.”

It gets you flustered again, you don’t know where to put your hands, and he’s so happy about it. “It’s a weekday… That’d be a bit exhausting…”

“Okay. Coffee date it is.”

He’s noticing you like the cheeky confidence, and it makes sense, considering the intensity had you intimidated. “Thank you,” you say. “I’d like that.”

“Believe me,” Leon can’t stop the grin from overtaking his expression. “My pleasure. You’re honestly too good for me.”

There’s the sudden urge to kiss you when vulnerability and shyness lights up your whole face, but he’ll take it slow. He has to take it slow. For himself.