#but it DID happen and im not exaggerating about the rest of that

[rexscanonwife]

I love that at this point I'm such a nerd about ppg that I can see a reaction image used on a random post that someone refers to as 'angry blossom' and be like 'that's not blossom, that's a defective knockoff version of blossom that was made in a factory and intentionally low-quality/defective to save on costs by Utonium's rival/ex boyfriend' but that's just me

[featherymainffins]

You know what at this point I feel like maybe I just need to either get institutionalised again or start an internship again because I feel like I am getting nothing.

[malkaviian]

i am having a great time here on life dot com

[23victoria]

slam!

pairings: f1 grid x fem!reader

word count: 4.3k

warnings: cussing, sexual innuendos, manipulation ig, lying in a way, it’s a prank, fluff

authors note: first official fic since my writing slump! i hope it’s okay! and im so so sorry if it’s ass lol, also you can see where i had no inspiration vs. where i did…please ignore that 😭, any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!!

want to be apart of my taglist?! CLICK HERE!

f1 masterlist 1k celebration

Charles

The drive to the mall was filled with easy conversation and laughter. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm orange glow over the city as you and Charles made your way through the bustling streets. Charles had one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on your thigh, a comfortable silence settling between the two of you.

You had planned this trip to Sephora for weeks now, eager to replenish your makeup supplies and maybe splurge on some new products. Charles had tagged along, promising to help you pick out new shades and scents, even though you knew he was more excited about the ice cream shop next door.

As you pulled into the parking lot, you felt a mischievous idea brewing in your mind. You wanted to test Charles' patience and see how he would react to a sudden, nonsensical argument. You knew it was silly, but something about the idea made you giggle internally.

Charles parked the car, and you both unbuckled your seat belts. Just as he was about to open his door, you decided to strike.

"Why do you always do that?" you snapped, turning to him with an exaggerated huff.

Charles froze, his hand still on the door handle. "Do what?" he asked, clearly puzzled by your sudden change in tone.

"You know what you did," you said, crossing your arms and glaring at him.

Charles blinked, completely taken aback. "I honestly have no idea what you're talking about, Y/N. Can you please explain?"

You let out an exasperated sigh, rolling your eyes dramatically. "Every single time we go somewhere, you always do this! It's like you don't even care!"

Charles' brow furrowed, confusion written all over his face. "What did I do? I parked the car! What's wrong with that?"

"Never mind," you said, shaking your head and opening your door. "Just forget it, Charles. I'm going to Sephora."

Before he could respond, you slammed the car door shut with a loud bang, making sure to give it an extra push for emphasis. You could see his bewildered expression through the window as you stormed off toward the mall entrance.

Charles sat in the car for a moment, trying to process what had just happened. His initial confusion slowly turned into a mix of frustration and concern. Had he really done something to upset you? He replayed the last few minutes in his mind, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

With a deep sigh, he got out of the car and locked it, jogging slightly to catch up with you. He found you standing in front of Sephora, arms still crossed and a pout on your lips.

"Y/N, wait," he called out, his voice a mix of irritation and worry. "Can we please talk about this?"

You turned to him, your expression softening just a fraction. "What's there to talk about, Charles? You always do this."

"Do what?" he asked, genuinely perplexed. "I really don't understand."

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a smile. "You always park too close to the other cars. It makes it hard for me to get out."

Charles' eyes widened in realization, and he let out a relieved laugh. "That's what this is about? Y/N, I'm so sorry. I didn't even think about that. I'll be more careful next time, I promise."

You felt a pang of guilt for making him worry, but the sight of his relieved smile made it worth it. You uncrossed your arms and took a step closer to him.

"Okay, fine," you said, your voice softening. "I forgive you. But you better not do it again."

Charles reached out and pulled you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you tightly. "I promise, I won't," he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Now, let's go get your makeup."

You smiled against his chest, feeling the warmth of his embrace. "And ice cream?"

"And ice cream," he agreed, pulling back to look at you with a grin. "Anything for you."

"Charles," you said, lifting your head up from his chest. "I have to confess something."

Charles looked at you with curiosity. "What is it, love?"

You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of guilt and amusement. "I wasn’t really mad at you... it was a joke. I wanted to see how you'd react."

Charles blinked in surprise, then let out a chuckle. "You little troublemaker," he said, wrapping an arm around your waist. "You had me worried there for a moment."

"I'm sorry," you said, standing on your tiptoes to give him a quick kiss. "I didn't mean to mess with your feelings. To make it up to you, how about I spoil you with whatever you want from the ice cream shop?"

Charles grinned, his eyes lighting up. "I think I can forgive you for that. As long as I get to pick the flavors."

"Deal," you said, smiling up at him. "And I'll throw in a foot massage later, too."

"Now you're talking," Charles said, giving you a playful squeeze. "Just don't make a habit of these fake arguments, alright?"

"I promise," you said, kissing him again. "No more fake arguments. Just lots of love and ice cream."

Charles laughed, pulling you close. "That's all I need."

Lewis

The sun was shining brightly as you and Lewis drove to your favorite ice cream shop. The plan was to enjoy a treat and then stroll through the nearby park. Lewis had been looking forward to this all week, a rare weekend off from the rigorous F1 schedule.

As you approached the shop, an idea formed in your mind. You decided to playfully test Lewis with a fake argument, curious to see his reaction.

Lewis parked the car smoothly, and you both unbuckled your seat belts. Just as he reached for the door handle, you pounced.

"Why do you always do that?" you asked, your tone sharp and accusing.

Lewis turned to you, his eyebrows raised in surprise. "Do what, babe?"

"Every time we go somewhere, you always find a way to make it about you," you said, crossing your arms and glaring at him.

Lewis looked genuinely puzzled. "What are you talking about, Y/N? We're getting ice cream. How is this about me?"

You sighed dramatically. "You always pick the spot to park without asking me if it's okay. It's like you don't even care about my opinion."

Lewis blinked, trying to process your sudden outburst. "I… I'm sorry, I didn't realize that bothered you. I just thought it was a good spot."

"Never mind," you said, shaking your head and opening your door. "I'm going inside."

You got out of the car and slammed the door behind you, glancing back to see Lewis sitting in stunned silence. You felt a pang of guilt but continued walking toward the ice cream shop.

Lewis quickly recovered and followed you inside, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. He caught up to you as you reached the counter.

"Y/N, wait," he said softly, touching your arm. "I'm really sorry if I upset you. I didn't mean to."

You turned to him, your annoyance melting away at the sight of his sincere eyes. "It's just… sometimes I feel like you don't consider my opinions."

Lewis nodded, his face serious. "I understand. I promise I'll be more mindful in the future. I never want you to feel like I don't care."

You smiled, feeling a rush of affection for him. "Okay, I forgive you. Now, let's get some ice cream."

Lewis grinned, pulling you into a quick hug. "Thank you. And I'll let you pick the spot next time."

As you ordered your ice cream and found a cozy spot to sit, you couldn't help but feel a bit guilty for starting the argument. But Lewis' genuine concern and quick apology made you appreciate him even more.

After a few bites of your ice cream, you decided it was time to come clean. "Lewis," you began, looking up at him with a sheepish smile.

"Yes, love?" he replied, his eyes filled with curiosity.

"I have a confession to make," you said, feeling a bit nervous. "That argument just now… it was a joke. I was bored and I just wanted to see how you'd react."

Lewis stared at you for a moment, then burst into laughter. "You really had me there, Y/N! I was so worried I did something wrong."

"I'm sorry," you said, reaching out to hold his hand. "I didn't mean to mess with your feelings. To make it up to you, how about I get you that perfume you wanted from Dior?”

Lewis' eyes sparkled with amusement and affection. "You don't have to spoil me, love. But I'll take you up on that offer. And maybe a massage later?"

"Absolutely," you said, leaning in to kiss him softly. "Anything for you."

Max

The drive to the mall was filled with excitement. Max had promised to help you pick out a new pair of sneakers, and you were looking forward to spending the day together. As you approached the mall, you decided to prank Max. Max parked the car, and you both unbuckled your seat belts. As he reached for his phone to check the time, you decided to that’s was your “issue”.

"Why do you always do that?" you asked, your tone sharp and accusing.

Max looked up at you, clearly puzzled. "Do what?"

"You always check your phone right when we arrive somewhere," you said, crossing your arms. "It's like you're more interested in your phone than spending time with me."

Max blinked, taken aback. "I was just checking the time, Y/N. I didn't mean anything by it."

"It feels like you're always distracted," you continued, pretending to be upset. "Like I have to compete for your attention."

Max's expression softened with concern. "I'm sorry if it feels that way. I promise I'm here with you, 100%. I just wanted to make sure we weren't late."

"Never mind," you said, opening your door. "I'm going inside."

You slammed the car door behind you and walked toward the mall entrance, leaving Max sitting there, clearly confused and worried. You glanced back to see him frowning, running a hand through his hair.

Max quickly got out of the car and caught up with you. "Y/N, wait. Did I really do something wrong?"

You turned to him, trying to keep a straight face. "It's just frustrating when it feels like I'm not your priority."

Max sighed deeply, his eyes full of regret. "I'm so sorry. I'll make sure to put my phone away and focus on us. I never want you to feel like you're second to anything."

You felt a wave of guilt but maintained your act. "Okay, fine. Just don't let it happen again."

Max nodded earnestly. "I promise. Let's go find those sneakers."

As you both wandered through the mall, Max was extra attentive, making sure to engage in conversation and keep his phone tucked away. You started to feel bad for starting the fake argument but were also touched by his efforts.

As soon as you neared the sneaker store, you decided it was time to come clean. "Max," you said, looking at him with a small smile.

"Yeah?" he replied, his eyes full of concern.

"I need to tell you something," you said, feeling a bit nervous. "I was just messing with you earlier, I was never mad at you for checking your phone. I just wanted to prank you and see how you'd react."

Max stared at you for a moment before chuckling softly. "I was so worried I did something to upset you. You really had me there, baby."

"I'm sorry," you said, reaching out to hold his hand. "I didn't mean to mess with your feelings. To make it up to you, how about I buy you anything you want from the next store?"

Max's eyes lit up with amusement. "You don't have to, but I won't say no to that offer."

"And I'll bake you your favorite cookies later," you added, leaning in to kiss him softly. "Anything to make it up to you."

Max grinned, pulling you into a hug. "Sounds like a perfect evening to me baby."

Lando

The drive to the electronics store was filled with excitement. Lando had been talking about getting a pc setup and you were looking forward to helping him pick one out. As you pulled into the parking lot, you decided to play a little prank on Lando.

Lando parked the car, and you both unbuckled your seat belts. Just as he was about to step out, you struck.

"Why do you always do that?" you asked, your tone sharp and accusing.

Lando turned to you, genuinely confused. "Do what?"

"You always take forever to decide on things," you said, crossing your arms. "It's like you can't make up your mind about anything."

Lando blinked, clearly taken aback. "I just like to weigh my options. What's wrong with that?"

"It feels like you're wasting time," you said, pretending to be annoyed. "Like you don't care about getting things done quickly."

Lando's expression shifted from confusion to concern. "I'm sorry if it bothers you. I just want to make sure we make the right choice."

"Never mind," you said, opening your door. "I'm going inside."

You slammed the car door behind you and walked toward the store, leaving Lando sitting there, clearly puzzled and a bit hurt. You glanced back to see him frowning, trying to figure out what just happened.

Lando quickly got out of the car and caught up with you. "Y/N, wait, what are you so mad? I don’t understand. Did I really do something wrong?"

You turned to him, trying to keep a straight face. "It's just frustrating when it feels like you can't make a decision."

Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't realize it was an issue. I'll try to be quicker next time, I promise."

You felt a pang of guilt but maintained your act. "Okay, fine. Just don't let it happen again."

Lando nodded earnestly. "I promise. Let's go."

As you both wandered through the store, you decided it was time to come clean. "Lando," you said, looking at him with a small smile.

"Yeah?" he replied, his eyes full of concern.

"I need to tell you something," you said, feeling a bit nervous. "I’m not mad that you take time to weigh out your options. It’s one of the things I love about you! I was just bored and decided to play a prank on you."

Lando stared at you for a moment before bursting out laughing. "Y/N….you had me so worried. I was like “What the fuck?! Why is she mad?!’ I was so worried I did something to upset you, I was about to take you to Marc Jacobs to get you that purse and perfume you wanted."

"I'm sorry," you said, reaching out to hold his hand. "I didn't mean to mess with your feelings. To make it up to you, how about I buy you with anything you want from a store of your choosing?"

Lando's eyes lit up with amusement. "You don't have to, but I won't say no to that offer."

"And I'll give you a special massage later," you added, leaning in to kiss him softly on his neck.

Lando grinned, pulling you into a hug. "How about we go home now for that massage hmm."

"Nope, we have to get our things first! And then we can go home." you said, smiling at him and winking.

Carlos

The drive to the new restaurant you both had been eager to try was filled with excitement. Carlos had been talking about the place for weeks, and you were looking forward to a nice dinner together. As you pulled into the parking lot, you decided to test Carlos's patience with a fake argument.

Carlos parked the car, and you both unbuckled your seat belts. Just as he reached for his wallet, you struck.

"Why do you always do that?" you asked, your tone sharp and accusing.

Carlos turned to you, genuinely puzzled. "Do what?"

"You always insist on paying for everything," you said, crossing your arms. "It's like you don't think I can take care of myself."

Carlos blinked, clearly taken aback. "I just want to treat you. What's wrong with that?"

"It feels like you're undermining my independence," you continued, pretending to be upset. "Like you don't think I can contribute."

Carlos's expression shifted from confusion to mild annoyance. "Y/N, this is ridiculous. I'm just trying to help."

You opened your mouth to continue, but Carlos cut you off. He leaned over, his hand gripping your neck gently but firmly, pulling you close. His eyes bore into yours with a mix of authority and affection.

"I don't want to hear that nonsense," he said, his voice low and commanding. "I pay for everything and will always pay for everything. You're my girl, and I love to spoil you and buy you whatever you want. Complain all you want, but nothing is changing. Anything that has a price on it, I buy it. Not you. End of discussion."

Before you could respond, Carlos pressed his lips against yours in a rough, passionate kiss that left you breathless. When he pulled back, he released your neck and stepped out of the car, leaving you stunned. A moment later, he came around to your side, opened the door, and helped you out, his hand gently guiding you.

You were still silent as you walked towards the restaurant, your mind racing from the intensity of the moment. Finally, you found your voice. "That was hot... really, really hot…and sexy. I think…I wet myself a little bit."

Carlos laughed, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He leaned down and kissed your forehead. "Good to know," he whispered in your ear, his hand giving your ass a playful slap. "Just wait until later, baby. I'll show you more of what you like."

Oscar

The drive to the new amusement park was filled with excitement. Oscar had been talking about going on the latest roller coasters for weeks, and you were looking forward to a fun-filled day together. As you pulled into the parking lot, you decided to play a little prank on Oscar to see how he would react.

Oscar parked the car, and you both unbuckled your seat belts. Just as he reached for his backpack, you struck.

“Why do you always do that?” you asked, your tone sharp and accusing.

Oscar looked up at you, genuinely confused. “Do what?”

“You always decide which rides we go on first,” you said, crossing your arms. “It’s like you don’t think I can pick something fun.”

Oscar blinked, clearly taken aback. “I just thought you liked the same rides as me. What’s wrong with that?”

“It feels like you don’t trust my choices,” you continued, pretending to be upset. “Like my voice doesn't matter.”

Oscar’s expression shifted from confusion to concern. “I didn’t realize you felt that way. I’m sorry if it seemed like I was ignoring your feelings baby.”

“Well, it does,” you said, opening your door. “Maybe you should think about that.”

Oscar quickly got out of the car and came around to your side, gently grabbing your arm to stop you. “Y/N, wait. I really didn’t mean to upset you. Can we talk about this?”

You turned to him, trying to keep a straight face but starting to feel bad about the prank. “Oscar, it’s just frustrating when it feels like you don’t consider my choices.”

Oscar sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I had no idea you felt this way. From now on, we’ll make all the decisions together. I promise.”

You couldn’t keep up the act any longer and burst into laughter. “Oscar, I’m so sorry baby. It was just a prank. I wanted to see how you’d react.”

Oscar stared at you for a moment before chuckling softly. “You really had me there, Y/N. I was so scared that I really messed up.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, reaching out to hold his hand. “I didn’t mean to mess with your feelings. I just wanted to see what you’d do.”

Oscar grinned, pulling you into a hug. “Well, you got me good. But next time, maybe pick a less heart-stopping prank, okay?”

You laughed, feeling relieved that he wasn’t mad. “Deal. Now, let’s go enjoy the carnival?”

Oscar nodded, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Absolutely. And you can choose the first ride.”

“We are definitely doing the Kingda Ka roller coaster first.” you said with a smile on your face.

As you walked towards the entrance of the amusement park, you knew the day was going to be filled with laughter, thrills, and unforgettable moments.

Sebastian

The drive to the new bookstore was filled with excitement. Sebastian had been talking about a new release he was eager to get his hands on, and you were looking forward to spending some quiet time browsing the shelves together. As you pulled into the parking lot, you decided to test his patience with a fake argument.

Seb parked the car, and you both unbuckled your seat belts. Just as he reached for his reusable shopping bag, you struck.

“Why do you always do that?” you asked, your tone sharp and accusing.

Seb looked up at you, genuinely puzzled. “Do what?”

“You always insist on carrying everything,” you said, crossing your arms. “It’s like you don’t think I’m strong enough to help.”

Seb blinked, clearly taken aback. “I just want to make it easier for you. What’s wrong with that?”

“It feels like you don’t think I can handle it,” you continued, pretending to be upset. “Like you don’t trust me to carry my weight.”

Seb’s expression shifted from confusion to mild annoyance. “Y/N, this is ridiculous. I’m just trying to help.”

You opened your mouth to continue, but Seb interrupted you. “Enough, baby. Arguing about this is pointless. I’m going to carry the bags because I want to. And I like taking care of you. Deal with it.”

Before you could respond, Sebastian grabbed your hair gently but firmly and pulled you into a rough kiss. His lips pressed against yours with an intensity that made your heart race. When he finally pulled back, he looked into your eyes with a mixture of authority and affection.

“Understand?” he asked softly.

You nodded, still a bit breathless. “Yes, sir.”

Sebastian smiled and released his hold on your hair, his eyes softening. “Good. Now, let’s go find that book.”

Jenson

The drive to the local farmer’s market was filled with anticipation. Jenson had been excited to pick out fresh ingredients for dinner, and you were looking forward to spending a relaxing afternoon together. As you pulled into the parking lot, you decided to test his patience with a fake argument.

Jenson parked the car, and you both unbuckled your seat belts. Just as he reached for his shopping list, you struck.

“Why do you always do that?” you asked, your tone sharp and accusing.

Jenson looked up at you, genuinely puzzled. “Do what?”

“You always decide what we’re having for dinner and pick out all the ingredients,” you said, crossing your arms. “It’s like you don’t think I can handle it or make a decision.”

Jenson blinked, clearly taken aback. “I just want to make sure we have a great meal. What’s wrong with that?”

“It feels like you don’t trust my cooking skills,” you continued, pretending to be upset. “Like my preferences don’t matter.”

Jenson’s expression shifted from confusion to mild annoyance. “Y/N, this is ridiculous. I’m just trying to make sure tonight’s meal is special.”

You opened your mouth to continue, but Jenson interrupted you. He leaned over, his hand gripping your neck gently but firmly, pulling you close. His eyes bore into yours with a mix of authority and affection.

“I don’t want to hear that nonsense,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “I pick the ingredients and plan the meals because I enjoy doing it for us. Plus, this argument is stupid because you cooked dinner for us two days ago.”

Before you could respond, Jenson pressed his lips against yours in a rough, passionate kiss that left you breathless. When he pulled back, he released your neck and stepped out of the car, leaving you stunned. A moment later, he came around to your side, opened the door, and helped you out, his hand gently guiding you.

As you walked toward the market, you found your voice. “I didn’t expect that reaction. It lowkey turned me on.”

Jenson turned to you with a smirk on his face, “Lowkey?”

“Okay, yes that definitely turned me on.” you said, turning away shyly.

Jenson chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Well, I guess I really know how to handle you then.”

You smiled, feeling butterflies in your stomach. “It was just a prank, but if that’s how you’re going to react, I definitely have to pull some more.”

Jenson laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, you don’t need to, baby. You get me like this just by being yourself.”

You grinned, feeling a warmth spread through you. “Are you sure we need to cook dinner? I’m sure we can just go home now and do something very, very important first. We can order some takeout after.”

Jenson smirked, his eyes darkening with desire. “As much as I would love that, we are cooking this meal. But after we’re done, we will definitely do that something.”

He winked at you, making your heart race with anticipation.

taglist: @ham1lton @ietss @animeandf1lover @nelly187 @heartsfromtaeyong @bloodyymaryyy @nor-4 @zacian117 @mel164 @uhhvictoria @hadidsworld @zabwlky1999 @sya-skies @lillysbigwilly @avengers-assemble123456 @santanasaintmendes @km-23mr @hookhausenschips @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @Ronpho @minekarina @formula1-motogpfa @slagclarens @aleexvqa @yoncesgroove @tellybearryyyy @exotic-iris13 @magixpracticality @eoduuung @eternoangel @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @danieldaviddarren33 @flowerpetalk @xoscar3 @jimcarreyfann42 @demyackerman @oledoledoffen @poppyflower-22 @pear-1206 @revolutionsingingintherain

© 23victoria 2023-24 I all rights reserved. do not republish, steal repost, modify, translate or claim my work as your own

[tofupixel]

Thank you for getting me to finally try pixel art! I‘ve always wanted to get into pixel art but I never knew what to start with and always ended up procrastinating. Your blog and the post you made on learning pixel art were what finally pushed me to give it a go. It was really helpful and I managed this little animation in Libresprite.

I definitely want to improve and your art is like the ultimate goal lol. Do you have any tips or instructions for how to get better or on what to focus on in the future? I‘d appreciate any kind of criticism/input you are willing to give! How do you manage to make such gigantic and beautiful landscapes?

thank you!! and i'm so happy you decided to give it a real go, you're doing great already!! the rendering on the body and the pink shading is really nice.

i can help a little with animation stuff but i'm not an expert, ill write something out about backgrounds at the end

i hope you don't mind but i edited the sprite a little, just to illustrate some stuff

🤺Animation stuff

i added an extra frame near the top of the arc so it slows down. this is called ease or slow in/out and usually happens at the beginning and end of movements. u can do even more slow but this is just a quick version

i also removed the middle frame (where the tail is straight down) to make the swing appear a bit more powerful. this could be the principle of timing in the same video. you can exaggerate smears if you do this, its up to you!! lately i tend to exaggerate stuff a lot, things arent super noticable in motion

i also got a good bit of advice from nickwoz that helped me, basically when you begin to animate, it really puts the rest of the sprite being still into focus. try to think of how you could animate other parts of the body, even subtly. and sometimes if individual pixels stay still they can catch the eye in an unintended way as well, just keep it in mind!!

if you want to learn animation more, you could take a look at duelyst sprites, they have incredible idle and ability animations, i study them a lot

heres one i downloaded a long time ago. i recommend just downloading stuff you like and looking at it!! i have a huge collection of pixel inspo. slowing animations down can really help you understand whats going on. its just a bunch of simple elements put together that makes it look so good.

IF U WANT MORE RESOURCES/ARTISTS I REOCMMEND TO GO AND STUDY LMK!!! IM LIKE A WIKIPEDIA, I AM A BIG FAN of pixel art and love to share

🌿 OK lets talk about landscape stuff

it looks like you have art experience already, but im gonna talk as if youre a complete noob cos it might help some other people who read this!! ur doing great 👍

❓ how to learn: study (and practise a lot)

what i mean by study: draw it, copy it, try to understand it. you can try to change characteristics about it. changing the angle or lighting can help u understand how something works in 3 dimensions.

sometimes it takes time, dont worry, you will figure out your own style through doing studies, its all a process

❓ how to draw landscape details?

study pixel artists and how they do it recommendations: fool, slym, jubilee, deceiver

also please look at real world references!! you got to build that visual library

❓ how to learn composition?

study traditional artists or animation. i did a ton of studies of ghibli backgrounds which i think helped my growth a lot recommendations: arcane, studio ghibli, traditional painters

im gonna break down a piece as well and maybe that will help. this is one from 2022 but its still one of my most popular and its pretty simple too!!

if we remove all the fancy stuff what we have is actually really simple. just a few large, overlapping shapes that all point towards our focal point. it's the brightest area with the most contrast and many edges point into it.

go to pinterest or google and just search "pretty landscape" or "mountains" or something and you can see what i'm doing is nothing special or unique!! break it down into bigger shapes to begin with, its just different areas of material mostly.

and heres how you can make any landscape from any colours. purple sky or mountain? orange grass? ok !! it all works, it doesnt matter. i just blend the colours.

when parts of the landscape are in the distance they become closer to the sky colour as there is more "sky" in between you and it. its called atmospheric perspective. so if the sky was red, the clouds would fade towards red.

OKKK i dont know what else to say so i hope that helps!! honestly 90% of what i do is intuitive and hard for me to really explain, so you dont have to know The Rules, you just kind of pick up stuff as you go.

GL and thanks so much for showing me your art!! please keep going!! 💕💕💕💕

[nevadancitizen]

do you think you could write something where könig and/or ghost (separate) were nearby or watched reader try to participate in a conversation but constantly got ignored or talked over to the point where they just kinda go silent and walk away? they end up comforting the reader and just trying to be a shoulder to cry on while they talk about their frustrations because this is something that always happens to them <\3

it doesn’t have to be too long and you don’t have to worry about getting to this request too quickly!! thank u for reading anyways :3

-> THE SOCIAL WEAK LINK

synopsis: rookies and debriefings are pains in both you and ghost's asses. rich people fail the turing test while interacting with you and könig.

word count: 2.2k (~1.1k each)

characters: ghost, könig, awkward! reader (lol)

notes: (rings dinner bell) hey friend.. this req has been sitting since september.. im so sorry (ಥ﹏ಥ)

-> GHOST:

Debriefings were always boring. Everyone was tired, sweaty, and just wanted a cold shower and a warm bed. But what else encompasses the military so eloquently except unnecessary misery?

And to add to the misery, some rookies had tagged along to the mission. “On-the-job training,” Price had prattled off as he read the mission statement. He had given you and the rest of the 141 an exaggerated look that screamed If these rookies compromise the mission I’m going to tear the Lieutenant Colonel a new one.

The rookies (with callsigns Quest and Cable) were nice enough. They weren’t given the opportunity to burn off their energy on the mission like the 141 – they’d stayed behind as backup while the 141 went in to deal with the bad guys. As a consequence, now they’re in the debriefing room, chattering away like parrots.

Ghost could fall asleep in the chair he was in, if Cable and Quest were a little quieter. He looks at the next spinny chair over, where you’re sitting. You’ve got your knees tucked to your chin and are silently tracing the patterns in the wood table with a fingernail. Every now and again, you glance at the rookies, but ultimately turn your eyes away.

You were always just a bit too awkward to fit in with the rest of the military. Either too quiet or too loud; you rambled too often and your voice cracked when you did. You slipped through the cracks, into the quiet background with Laswell and Shepherd. You’re one of the powerful hands that move the pieces on the chessboard, but not a well-recognized one. Well-recognized within the 141, yes, but not on a wider scale. 

Ghost can tell how you’re feeling by the obvious emotion on your face. It’s yearning – an emotion Ghost knows well.

His eyes sweep the rest of the table. Gaz is fucking around on his phone, probably making a new Pinterest board, while Soap leans over his shoulder and watches him. Price is in another room, talking to someone important. Ghost couldn’t really bring himself to care about who. 

The entire room is bogged down with an unmistakable tiredness that goes right over Quest and Cable’s heads. Really, the only sound in the room is their voices and, intermittently, yours as you try to inject yourself into their conversation. Each attempt is met with pursed lips that barely count as smiles and something along the lines of “Yeah. Anyway…”

Eventually, Price pops in, leaning his head on the doorframe. The brim of his hat crinkles and his nose wrinkles up in disdain. He sighs. “Everyone out. Lieutenant Colonel wants this meeting room for herself. We’ll debrief later.”

Quest and Cable pop up like excited teenagers and head for the door, continuing to talk. “I’m soooo goddamn hungry. Hopefully the mess hall has something good…”

“Hey!” You practically jump from your chair, your eyes on the rookies. “Um, I heard that they just restocked the vending machines? Do you wanna maybe chick – I mean, check – them out with me? They’re just down the hall.”

They both tense, and Quest looks over their shoulder. They smile awkwardly and exchange a look with Cable. “Uh… maybe another time?”

You visibly deflate and rock back on your heels. “Yeah, totally. See you later.”

They both nod tersely and exit. You take a deep breath and let out a long sigh. You sit back in the spinny chair and it wheels backwards from the force.

Gaz shuts his phone off and groans while Soap sucks air through his teeth. 

“Not your best effort,” Gaz says. 

“I know,” you say. 

“Maybe you’re not just compatible with rookies?” Soap tries.

You roll your head back against the back of the chair and stare at the ceiling. “I know.” 

You sink further into the chair, then stand. “Whatever. Let’s clear out. Price will have our heads if we don’t.”

Ghost tails you out the door. You don’t acknowledge him, but you know he’s there (even if his footsteps are extraordinarily light for a man of his stature). 

“Pompous pricks, ay?” Ghost says. 

You stick your hands in your pockets, hiking your shoulders up by your ears. “Wish they were a little more personable. Wish I was a little more personable.”

“Why, you’re plenty personable.” Ghost laughs gruffly at his own joke as he nudges your shoulder with his. 

“Asking to go ‘chick out’ the vending machines is a personable interaction?” You relax your arms and knock your elbow against Ghost’s. 

“I thought it was funny,” Ghost says. “Even if it was just a slip-up.”

You sigh, but keep up with Ghost as he walks. “If it was funny, then why didn’t they laugh?”

Ghost thinks for a second. “Maybe they just don’t have a sense of humor?”

“You don’t have a sense of humor,” you jab.

Ghost scoffs. “Of course I do.”

“Then make me laugh,” you say. “Make me laugh right now.”

Ghost breathes in and exhales slowly through the fabric of his mask. “Well… do you know why the Cold War was called the Cold War?”

“The supernations fought using proxy wars,” you say. “America and the USSR never really went head-to-head.”

Ghost sighs pointedly. “Yes,” he says, “but also because of the icy-BMs.”

“The what?”

“The Cold War?” Ghost repeats. “Icy?”

“ICBM stands for Intercontinental Ballistic Missiles.” You stop midstep, looking at Ghost with a disbelieving smile. “Ghost, don’t tell me you don’t know what ICBM stands for?”

“No, it –” Ghost sighs. “Icy sounds like IC? Icy-BMs?”

You burst out laughing, waving Ghost away like he was some form of stupid. “Ghost, seriously? You don’t – oh my God!”

“I’m not a fucking knob, I know what…” 

Ghost can’t bring himself to correct you as he watches you laugh like that. It’s a bit too loud and there’s a snort in there somewhere, but it rings true and warms Ghost’s heart. He doesn’t mind being seen as dumb for a minute if you’re able to warm his heart with a sound as nice as that. 

-> KöNIG: 

König nearly always hates going undercover. 

More often than not, the higher-ups stick him in some ill-tailored enemy armor and send him in with nothing but a less-than-encouraging slap on the ass. They know he’ll make it out alive.

On this mission, he feels a little more comfortable. It’s more than obvious you’re not. 

You and König are camped out on the edge of a ballroom, sitting together at a small table. You’re dressed in a fancy outfit that just screams decadence, and it fits your role well – the adult child of some rich, cigar-chomping tech baron. König is playing the role of your bodyguard, dressed down from his usual military garb in a plain black suit (with kevlar padding) and a balaclava.

You cross one leg over the other at the knee and look down at your flute of champagne as you swirl it. The bubbles rise to the surface and pop as the pale liquid settles. 

“I hate this,” you say under your breath, just loud enough for König to hear. 

He nods along, but straightens up when a small group of people approach the table. There’s an older woman, a middle-aged man, and a girl, maybe fifteen. 

“Hi, sweetheart!” An older woman croons at you. “You’re Bohumil Silvester’s youngest, right?”

“Oh!” You sit up straighter and put the champagne flute on the table. “Yes, I am. And, um – and who might you be?”

“I’m Laila Matthews.” Laila checks over her shoulder at the people accompanying her. “This is my daughter, Adine, and this is my husband, Keaton.”

“It’s so nice to meet you!” You smile politely, but König can scope out of the corner of his eye that you’re gripping a bit of the fabric of your too-fancy outfit like you’re meaning to rip it off. You spout your fake name to Laila with a cheeky “But you know that already, right, ma’am?”

Laila is utterly delighted with your carefully constructed persona. She throws her head back and laughs, one hand on her chest and the other finding Keaton’s shoulder. “Oh, Lord. Aren’t you just your father’s child?”

You nod and, once again, smile politely while exchanging side-eye glances with König. He’s just as confused as you are. 

As soon as Laila recovers, she’s talking again. She gestures vaguely in König’s direction. “And who is this? Security, for this casual meeting?”

“Uh, yes, ma’am,” you say. “You can never be too careful these days, with all the laws about concealed carry and everything.”

“Well, I’m 57, and I’ve only had security for a few occasions,” Laila says. 

“You’re 57?” You bark, a little too loud. You can feel a few heads turn your way and Laila’s stare turns withering. König’s shoulders shake as he coughs into his fist.

“I mean, um, you’re 57?” You try again, quieter. “Because you don’t look it. Like, at all. Ma’am.”

Laila’s tone is flat when she speaks. “Right.”

“I meant, um, you look younger? Uh, anyway.” You smile nervously, then pick up your champagne flute and take a sip. “I love your family’s outfits! And the, uh, the way they match.”

Keaton leans in and grabs a hold of Laila’s shoulder. He gets up on his toes to whisper something in Laila’s ear. It’s hard to hear over the ambient noise of the ballroom. Laila nods and Keaton continues to whisper.

“Um, Laila? Mrs. Matthews?” You try to get her attention, to no avail. She keeps nodding to Keaton’s words like you’re not even there.

You stand and turn to Adine. “Adine, right? Tell your mother it was nice speaking to her.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Adine nods absently, her eyes somewhere else on the ballroom floor. 

You toss the rest of the champagne in the flute down like it’s a shot and stand from the table. You make eye contact with König and nod towards the French doors that lead towards the balcony. 

People don’t notice as you and König step out. The sky is clear, yet the night is still young enough to be starless. 

“Christ, I hate rich people,” you mutter under your breath. 

König moves and leans his back against the wrought iron of the railing. His eyes sweep across the small area, then he nods. “Yes. That interaction was less than pleasant.”

You lean against the railing next to him. “Why was she even talking to me? And what did she mean, ‘Aren’t you just your father’s child?’ Like, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“I am… not sure,” König says. “Maybe it’s part of rich people code?”

“Yeah, maybe.” You huff out a laugh, then sigh. “I really wasn’t the best pick for this mission.”

“What do you mean?” König asks. “You are perfectly capable of fighting.”

“No, the, like…” you sigh again. “The talking part? I’m not fit for that. Never been a good conversationalist, never will be.”

“You are conversing with me right now, no?” König gestures between you and him. “This is a conversation. You are doing fine.”

“Yes, but…” you trail off. “You saw me. I shouted her age out in front of everyone.”

König hums. “To be fair, it was a bit of a shock.”

You glance up at him and laugh, a pretty smile gracing your features. “Shut up.”

“But it was!” König insists. The fabric of his balaclava puffs out as he laughs. “I had to cough to cover up my laugh. I nearly had to excuse myself.”

“Yeah, sure.” You shove his shoulder half-heartedly as you turn and look out over the railing, at the courtyard. König follows your gaze.

The courtyard is illuminated by ambient lamps. Paths are laid with bricks, with neatly trimmed grass in between each one. Exotic plants from every corner of the globe line the pathways, some of their flowers closed for the night. A fountain is in the middle, with water spouting out of the trumpet of a cherub statue. A few people surround the fountain, talking quietly with drinks in their hands in the low light. 

You lean close to König and point at one of the people – a man in a navy suit. “That’s the target. Mister T. Kilgore.”

“So he is,” König says. He pats under his armpit, checking his sidearm. “We need to get moving. I do not like the way Laila’s husband was talking to her. Suspicious.”

You nod and send König a small smile. “We’re still going with the plan, right? I’m going in and playing drunk?”

“Of course.” König mirrors your smile even though you can’t see it. “Besides, it’ll give you an opportunity to practice your conversation skills.”

You scoff, but you’re still smiling. “Yeah, if I’m planning on interacting with everybody as a drunk idiot for the rest of my life.”

“I’m serious!” König insists. “More likely than not, you’ll never see these people again.”

A beat of silence.

“You’re right.” You knock your elbow against König’s. “Let’s give them a show.”

[str4ngr]

STARTERS [ SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY ]

cw: none, strangers to lovers, first meeting, not beta read, might be military inaccuracies because im not in the military, medic! fem!reader. notes: i've worked so hard [exaggeration] to make this look cute but ik its gonna devolve in 0.5 seconds. this is part one of a series. words: 1,065.

"This won't be easy."

A fair warning, a meager one too, from your new, technically, superior, Kate Laswell. You had accepted her offer as a combat medic, seeing as their next mission was supposed to take months. But those months weren't even this year, they were the next.

This year, it was your mission to become familiar with your crew, have a starter and a taste.

Considering you've dealt with plenty of irritable, ill-mannered patients in the E.D. before, it shouldn't feel so stuffy when you enter the base. You I.D. card was scanned, and you were permitted entry past the intimidating security guard who's eyes nailed you like you were his prey. You might've been.

Heels clacking, you rushed to your new office,

MEDICAL WING

A sign read, in red, right above your head. You wanted to feel like you were walking into a new life, but the stares and exhausted attempts at a smile the veteran nurses tossed you made a breath you didn't realize you were holding leave.

Luckily, offices were assigned, and yours was on the first floor.

Empty and quite sad, you tossed your backpack and purse onto your desk, which didn't even have a chair, and put your hands on your hips. Laswell had told you that they wouldn't be back until evening, it was morning.

It felt like walking into your first job, gingerly taking your steps to the staff lounge where you introduced yourself to the nurses who were lounging. They returned the gesture graciously, luckily understanding of your nerves.

Soon enough, your actual superior came to greet you, smiling and laughing with the rest of the staff as she raved about you. As soon as basic information was given, you were tossed out of your nest, bidding you a good flight. The ED never waits for anyone after all.

⚬

As your first day ended and your night began, you sat in your office, which you finally got a chair for, to sift through paperwork. Boring things never really last for long, and as much as you'd like to one-go your work, it definitely wasn't happening. Especially when your sweet nurses and the other doctors bombarded into your office, playfully asking, more like dragging, you to come with them to the mess hall.

It's impolite to say no, isn't it?

It was fun. It was like being in high school again, smiling and giggling before everyone leans into to whisper, bursting back out into laughter. Oh, and it was juicy. Real juicy, juicier when they mentioned him.

"Ghost?"

You ask, tilting your head as you raise a brow, "What kinda' callsign's that?" There was a strange inkling of familiarity of the name, just right under your nose. The nurse who was telling the story went wide-eyed, grinning at you,

"Oh, honey, he's the one with the skull mask."

The mask. The fucking mask.

Everyone could see it, how you face paled like snow, your head dropping as you gawked at them. They all laughed at your reaction, it was quite comical, though they found it funnier for reasons different than yours, teasing, "I haven't even said the story yet!"

Well, Laswell did. God, were you stupid? He was from Task Force 141! They all, allegedly, saw him in the gym, allegedly lifting double his weight, and allegedly you were blushing at the idea of the number, allegedly. And that was essentially the whole story. The nurse beside you poked as he cooed at you,

"Aw, does the doctor have a crush on her first day?" Laughing as you smacked his arm playfully, a stupid grin on all of your faces. The conversation moves on, talking about the soldiers that got into a fight, and how funny it was when one got a rhinoplasty. It felt like you were half-present, like a fever dream as your thoughts swirled together. Maybe your shift was a little too long.

But you couldn't stop thinking about him, your fork spinning the lukewarm pasta as you blandly laughed with your caffeine-high colleagues. Was he really that fascinating?

You couldn't stop thinking about him, your fork spinning the lukewarm pasta as you blandly laughed with your caffeine-high colleagues. Was he really that fascinating? Your mind ran with every though, you hadn’t even seen him today, and yet here you were imagining him, strong, tall, muscular. And of high status? he sure seemed like the pear most imaginative women would like.

But you can't expect him to be a perfect romance lead, especially the more you listened, seeing as he was quite the topic.

Everyone else seemed to just know him, know him in the sense that he was a figure of admiration. The strongest, the fastest, the most intricate, coolest man on one of the greatest task forces affiliated. They knew every little intricate detail of his service. But you didn’t. You don’t even know what they mean by a ‘skull mask’, was it a full skul? does he do face paint like a 3-year-old? You've never seen him, not that you were reluctant to the chance to.

Maybe you were insane, especially since there was the entire rest of the task force for you to get familiar with too. Well, he was one of them so you should go one by one, right—

"Ya' like to talk, dinnea ya?"

You twitched at the voice, "Scottish," You thought to yourself, "John 'Soap' MacTacvish." Laswell had some comments about him, mostly about his inability to speak understandable English, and his refusal to get a military standard haircut, aka he has a mohawk. But it wasn't just the Scot, the devil answered when his name was called.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley.

It was almost as if he knew who you were the moment your eyes met, like a fuse set off between you. Brown eyes, deep like dark chocolate, and cold like the tundra, and more magnetic than any other man you've ever seen, he stared at you, speaking to his friend,

"Seems like they do, Johnny."

Gravelly and low, almost inaudible if it weren't for your fixated ear, his voice whispered to Soap, his eyes never leaving yours. Soap, or Johnny as Ghost had so endearingly called him, grinned, plopping beside you,

"Aye, yer that new medic Laswell's been talkin' 'bout?"

You blink a couple times before you smile, nodding as you introduce yourself. Soap smiles back, polite yet inked with a bit of his eccentric personality, taking your hand into a firm shake. You smile up at the masked figure,

"You must be Ghost, right?"

He gave a bland grunt, not that you expected much more from a quiet man. Soap grinned, ignoring Ghosts lack of proper manners to introduce himself. With small conversation, they left, almost.

Although he walked away, he never left your mind, and you never left his.

⚬ ☠︎︎ ⚬

i think i'm just gonna set the reader to female bc ik i'm eventually gonna do suggestive bits so it'll be easier in the long run. lmk if you have any ideas for simon. [or the others i wrote about!!] also lmk if i should make a taglist. [part two]

EYES THAT HOLD SECRETS

directory

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hiii 💜 could I request a Daemon x Reader fic? They are in an arranged marriage and it's their wedding night. Reader is quite shy and reserved (she's the total opposite of Daemon) and she is very nervous about having to spend time with him because she knows about his reputation all too well (and also what happened to his first wife, Lady Rhea Royce). So when they're all alone in their chambers she tries to delay the inevitable but he sees right through her. So they start to argue and in the midst of their discussion she tells him she's scared of him. He just chuckles and tells her that he was the one that asked her father for her hand with the approval of his brother, king Viserys. And maybe then some smut? Thank you so much, love!

Mourn Me

Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Summary: You were the daughter and only child of a wealthy Lord and Lady that had met misfortune during their travels. Falling under the ward of your aunt, she was so graciously set on allowing you to marry for love. However, you did not want that, you wanted Daemon Targaryen.

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: fem!reader, smut (dub con, virgin!reader, first time awkwardness, fingering, vaginal penetration, oral [f receiving], praise kink, degradation kink, corruption kink, hair pulling), mentions of death, devious!daemon but you already knew that, fluff maybe, typos, etc.

A/N: folks MDNI im experiencing a crash and burn meaning i cant write anyfin⚰️ so i offer youz dis cos i will just be🧍 lurkin for a while. Anyway idk i had a hard time tryna convince myself that daemon would want an arranged marriage after rhea tbfh so i HAD to convince myself which means i took some liberties SO yeah. also i combined this with another req i have that's pretty similar hope yall like it. Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony @risefallrise @slavyanskiyahui

I recall the day my father's brother died. It was a dreary, solemn day, and I had a vapid look upon my face. I felt for my uncle; indeed, it was quite sad that he passed, but I was not terribly close to him.

My father, I knew, was. This was why when he turned from me from over his shoulder, making it a point not to be inconspicuous, and made exaggerated cries in an attempt to make me laugh, that day truly felt sad to me.

My father cared more about how I felt than how he felt. The thought squeezed my heart.

And as I knelt upon the floor, before casket of my father and my mother, tears streaking my eyes, I realized no one in this world would ever do that for me again.

No one would ever swallow their sorrows in lieu of alleviating mine. Not my friends, not my cousins, not my servants, and especially not one of the men presented to me truly cared for my tears, not that way. I knew the acerb truth. They all wanted me for I was the door to my parents wealth.

I was by myself, on my own, and terribly lonely.

And it was not that the Lord of Fleabottom offered anything inverse to it, but I appreciated the fact his mere presence made the thick sea of avaricious men part.

Daemon Targaryen unabashedly eyes me as he hands a random man his cup and walks over. The moment he did, the lords surrounding me dissipated into thin air.

"I thought you would be better looking up close," he speaks once he is beside me.

I turn to him, eyes widening, "I beg your pardon."

"Well," he looks around, "you have all the lords in a riot," he leans towards me and inhales deeply.

I recoil in mortification when he does.

He pulls back with a smirk, "yet you smell like the rest of the ladies, and appear no fairer than them."

My lips part and my wide eyes blink slowly at his words. The prince does nothing. He does not even seem amused by my reaction, instead, he merely assesses me.

What am I? Cattle?

My face contorts and yet I do not get to chew at him, for he asks me abruptly, "what's gotten them so restless?"

I scoff and heave heavily. A loud fit of giggles from the women across the room snap me out of my angry state. Both Daemon and I turn, finding the women were glancing our way, clearly talking about us. I eye the long haired, uncouth ruffian, deciding it would be better if I simply walked away, rather than unleashing the fury that had been building up in me the whole day.

Daemon watches as I walk off. He raises a brow and purses his lip. He raises his voice, "you're a rude one, aren't you?"

I feel my eye twitch, and out of my dropped jaw comes a sound of annoyance. I clench my jaw tightly and strangle my skirts in my hands. I do not give him the satisfaction of turning back to him and head for the banquet to pour myself a cup of wine.

Regretfully, I am quickly hounded by lords left and right again before I can even finish my cup. It is deeply irritating, and though I mention to them I wanted a moment to drink on my own, none of them relent. All the attention draws back that of the prince's.

Once more, like clockwork, I watch as all the men flee the area upon catching sight of the roguish Targaryen making his way over.

This time, I note his deterring presence in the back of my head as I watch him march over to me. Daemon comes up to my side of the banquet. He is facing the opposite direction I am and pours himself a drink, "how do you find the wine, lady?"

I look at him, gobsmacked by his question. I scan the room, finding that the lords and ladies that were so readily coming at me moments ago, since the moment I arrived, were now finding it hard to even keep my gaze. I blink and turn to the man to my side, finding he was already looking back at me.

Daemon takes a sip of his drink.

"It's quite dry, and I think it's been sweetened with honey."

He chuckles as he draws his cup from his lips, "an astute observation," he turns around and looks out to the crowds, making everyone that was looking flinch and look away, "I heard the fool hosting this gaggle cannot stand the taste of sour wine and had all them sweetened-- stupid fuck."

I knit my brows at that and watch him take another sip, "yet you still drink."

Daemon tilts his head and licks his moistened lips, "better than nothing."

For a moment, we do nothing but stand next to each other and scan the room. During this time, I catch sight of my aunt, looking back at me with a wary and concerned expression. She motions with her head, wordlessly telling me to have my leave and go back to entertaining the lords.

I clench my jaw and sigh.

She meant well. If I there was anyone I could trust anyone, it was her, but she was too eager and persistent in marrying me off, in having it done. Yes, she was doing this for my sake. Yes, she was giving me the choice to marry who I please. But I'm exhausted. I'm worn like chalk on a wall. And, in fact, this was the most peace I've had in weeks. Just me, my thoughts-

I turn to my side and watch the man wince at the drink he still pointedly continues to subject himself to.

-and Daemon Targaryen.

I find myself in an interesting situation it seems.

I give my aunt one last look. Her wide eyes were practically screaming at me, though her lips were tightly pressed together. I look back to the prince. He looks back at me with an idle expression.

"Are you here to insult me further, my prince?"

Daemon knits his brows slightly, "insult you, have I? I merely speak plainly."

I do little to mask how my face contorts.

He lifts his cup to sip some more wine, but then changes his mind. He raises a finger from the hand which held it, "if I actually wanted to insult you, you'd be left in a fit of tears."

I release a small breath, "then consider me honored to have not been insulted by you, your grace."

"You don't sound too much it," Daemon sets his cup down, "methinks you should try again."

When Daemon's lilac eyes lock with mine, I hold his stare and ignore his words. I mutter, "if you are still curious as to why a gander of men are flocking toward me, then--"

"Oh no, Lord Barnaby over there already enlightened me of how handsome your inheritance is," he points then tents his hands in front of him, "in truth, I came here to spectate your championship, but the lecherous fucks have evaded my presence," he purses his lips in false thought, "odd, dont you think?"

I cannot help the faint, airy chuckle that leaves my mouth. I shake my head, "clearly, they are all intimidated by your presence."

"Yet," he looks off, "here you are, tall beside me."

I silently look at him for a moment, taking in the slope of his nose, and the cut of his cheek and jaw. I only turn away when he tilts his head and speaks, "do you know her?"

I turn to where he was looking and find my aunt staring back. She gives me another look and I immediately turn away, "she is my aunt."

He hums, "she too can keep my gaze," he turns to me, "color me impressed by the women of your house."

"She no longer belongs to my house."

He hums again, "and soon you no longer will belong to yours."

It was clear at this point, the prince now lost his interest in me and was about to walk away.

I don't let him.

"The lords have fled because they're intimated by the competition."

Daemon, about to walk off, stops himself before he even does. He looks at me and chuckles. He then eyes my body, "I am not interested in the game."

"I doubt they are interested in the game, your grace," I cross my arms, "they are only interested in my gold coffers."

I catch how his eyes land on my bosoms before landing back to my face. Daemon presses his lips into a line and shrugs, "then I'll leave you to finding the most interesting idiot you'd like to give offer your coffers and cunt to."

And though I cringe at his words and he manages a few steps away, I stop him yet again, "you, my prince."

Daemon stills. He takes a moment before turning back to me.

Once we catch each other's eyes, I speak out for good measure and relax my arms to my sides, "I... would interest you."

He looks at me with a darkened gaze. I could not exactly say what expression it was, but it made my stomach roll. He slowly steps forward, "so you enjoy insults?"

He steps again. "You did not insult me, my prince."

Another step, "didn't I?"

I, myself, step back when he presses closer than where he was a while ago, "n-no."

He hums, taking another step.

"Truly," my back hits the banquet table as Daemon invades my space. I shudder at his scent, warm like furnace fire and sweet like oranges, "rough as you are, you do only speak plainly."

Daemon only stops once there was but a step between us. His head is downturned and his eyes are upturned, "zūgagon hontes," scared bird.

I release a breath and manage the gall to push him away. He looks at my hand when it presses against his chest. He chuckles as he steps back, "you want to interest me, yet insult me yourself by calling me rough."

"I-"

He grabs my hand before I pull it away and drags me forward, "what would a little girl like you know of rough?" My heart is trapped in my throat when his calloused fingers begin to rub against my palms as he speaks, "aōha rāpa ondos emagon dōrī gaomagon rhinka mirre." Your soft hands have never done rough work.

I yank my hand away from him and he thoughtlessly releases me. He tilts his head, "what about me has gotten you interested?"

I rub my hands together and breathe deeply, "... your teeth."

"My teeth?"

I huff through my nose, "not a single person has come to interrupt us. Not even as you've pressed close and grabbed me."

Daemon raises his brows.

"I have been tirelessly pestered left and right with marriage proposals, only now have I known repose," I gulp, straightening up. "If I were to wed you, then my peace would be guaranteed."

He scoffs and rolls his eyes.

"I would only be pestered by you and your concerns, but never would I have to frolic with ladies I do not care for, not engage in pleasantries with lords that make my skin crawl."

He narrows his eyes and presses close to me again. I let him this time.

He does not hesitate and grabs me by the waist, pulling me flush against his chest untill my senses are bombarded by nothing but him. My heart is thundering in my chest.

"You take me a fool to believe that's all you could want from me?"

I let out a shaky breath, "like you, I only speak plainly."

He makes a sound. He lifts his hand and drags his knuckles down my face. My skin pricks with gooseflesh. I cannot help that my hands come up to his chest and push him back again. This time, he does not relent or release.

I begin to panic, "I am the last of my house, its undisputable inheritor. There are no male heirs, no alliances, none other than that which would be borne out of my marriage. I-I would belong to you, wholly. And I-" I squeak when he pushes me into the table, "I would--"

Daemon mutters, "you would never know peace as my bride, foolish girl. There would be not a moment were hankering pricks ceased picking at your being, at your every move. You would bare the weight of the kingdom's qualms on your shoulders," he releases me, "and from that you would never know respite."

I heave as he steps away, eyeing me hotly, still. I swallow a thick knot in my throat, "b-but you would stand in its way."

Daemon's face contorts.

"And from what I know of you, prince Daemon, that is assured. I cannot say that for any other lord I've met."

When he walked away from me that moment, I felt an immense crash of shame and regret wash over me. Truly, I was a fool for thinking one such as the Rogue Prince could ever be persuaded only by words.

And yet an even more immense crash washed up when Daemon Targaryen came to formally ask for my hand. Even now, as he's whisked me off in what I will forever know as our shared chambers in the Red Keep, I was unsure what exactly this emotion was inside me.

Hard as I tried, I could not help my bodily reactions to his touch. I could not mask my shivering or flinching as Daemon undid the ties of my dress from behind.

I could not help the way I shriveled up when he leaned into my shoulder and whispered hotly there something I did not understand.

As my skin pricks, he pushes me toward our bed and I obediently lie on my chest as he brings me down. I feel my heart pounding against the mattress as he rids of my shoes and rakes his fingers up my legs from beneath my skirt. I muffle my whimper.

"I asked if you regret your decision, timid thing."

I shake my head and pipe up, "no."

I feel Daemon's hand on the back of my thigh, hiking up my bum. He mutters, "are you quite certain?"

I let out an almost pained sound, "perhaps we can... do this a-another time."

He throws my skirt over and digs his fingers into my smallclothes, "and why would we do that? That's a terrible idea."

I press my legs as tightly together as I could when he begins to pull my garments down. At some point I begin to wrangle my legs against him. I offer, "we- we have not spoken much!"

He grabs my legs and yanks me toward him to prove a point, "I assure you, you need not speak at all. In fact, I doubt you'll be able to."

I feel my face burn.

Soon enough, he works on my dress again, and the next thing I know, I am lying rigidly on my back in nothing by my shift.

He chuckles softly with the sound of ruffling clothing, "will you not even offer me your assistance, poppet?"

I suck in a breath for courage and turn to him. He was already undoing his breeches, and his chest was already bare. I look to the ceiling, "you're able bodied enough, husband."

Daemon laughs.

I close my eyes when I feel the bed dip. My heart hammers all over again.

"Open your legs."

I clench my jaw and gulp heavily. I drag my feet up and part my legs below my knees, thighs very much clamped shut. He laughs again as I feel his hand bunch my remaining clothes up to my hips. Daemon says, "you'll find I quite enjoy toughing it out."

When his hands press on my knees, I decide not to fight him when he pushes them apart. I feel him maneuver in between my limbs, "good girl."

He wraps my legs around him and comes upon me, sinking down to my neck to plant kisses there. Instinctively, my arms warp around him and my fingers dig into his frim flesh. I whimper manically when he ruts into me.

I did not anticipate that his kisses would trail down my body. By the time he reached my navel and his hands were practically prying my thighs apart, I grab at his hair and tug him up, "what are you doing?!"

My stomach rolls when he looks up at me and states, "you wouldn't survive if I roughed it out before I did this."

I don't get to reply as my words are pulverized into a yelp when I feel his fingers come to my pulsing core, "D-Daemon, what-"

"Shhh," he continues his descent as his fingers work into me, "your body knows what I am doing."

Daemon amuses himself with the sounds he gets from moving his fingers in and out of the wetness before him. "A crying virgin, you are," he notes. He laps at my weeping center. I whine at his burning hot breath when he speaks, "so dripping wet for nothing," he smirks, "so wet for me."

His motions feel deliberately as though he was stretching me out. And for every move he made, my voice and thighs react. He keeps me open with the weight of his arms pressing down on me. The sensation of his mouth and fingers leave me a shaking, whimpering mess.

I grip on his hair for dear life, and yet it does not even occur to me that I could be hurting him. I don't think I care, to be honest.

The only thing I get out of Daemon are a couple of grunts and many hot huffs.

The sound of me being worked on by him is absolutely obscene. And soon enough, my cries exceed that level of obscenity when I crumble into a rubble of throaty breaths and shivering pleasure. The feeling was nothing like I've ever felt before and it was mind breaking.

I tense tightly as croak at the delicious feeling coursing through me. My nails dig into his scalp. My thighs begin to shake.

Once I am out of breath and reeling, Daemon lifts his head and nips at my flesh, making my toes curl, "such an easy prize, aren't you? Barely took a second."

I dare to pry my screwed eyes open as my husband crawls over me and brings my shift up along with him. Helplessly, and rather deliriously, I lift up my hands and let him finally strip me naked. He throws my clothes off to the side and looms over my face, "how was that?"

I look up at him and, even with the haze in my mind, find embarrassment in how... how sloppy his face looked, gleaming under the dim lit room. I find myself unable to move.

He smirks and, sequentially, chuckles, "I told you so," he grabs my thighs, "not even a sound from my doe. Finger fucked silly."

A great many sounds do leave me when I feel a hard intrusion push into my tender folds. My breath catches in my throat and, by my ear, he whispers a string of curses. Daemon begins to slowly rock his hips, easing slowly but deeply into me.

"Daemon," I whine, arms clutching him tightly against me. He pushes my legs to my sides, folding me into such a vulnerable position. It gives him complete access to me d as he moves, he knocks into a nerve that makes my eyes roll back. The sounds that leave me become louder and deeper.

"Mmm, fuck, such a hot, little cunt," he hisses, "so soft," he harshly kneads my flesh, "my tight fuck pillow," he grunts, "hope you don't regret it."

Daemon's mouth finds mine, and the tangy taste all over his tongue and lips make my stomach coil in indescribable ways. My nails helplessly dig into the taunt base of his working spine. He groans into our kiss and moves faster.

I pull away from him, in desperate need for air and feel myself grow wetter and wetter all over, especially between my thighs.

"Tell me. Do you regret this? Would you have rather were talked like you wanted? Shall I pull out and stop fucking my stupid little wife?"

Daemon's hand finds my cheek and his thumb smears the slickness on my parted lips.

Much to both his enjoyment and annoyance, he receives no reply from me, and the only sound that ripples into the room is that of slapping skin and gutteral moans.

He drags the skin on my cheek back with his palm, "gonna need an answer, pretty girl, or else I'll fucking stop."

Hearing that and feeling him slow makes me sentient. I tighten my arms around him and rapidly shake my head as I desperately respond, "no. I don't- don't regret it. Pleasedonstop."

Daemon's ego is stroked and his thrusts pick up the pace.

The rapid shift of him barely being there to being filled to the hilt makes the corner of my eyes prick with water.

I call out his name and he dutifully hums, "mmm, shall I stop?"

"No! Please-"

"And why shouldn't I?" he growls, as if in anger, as if threatening to stop, though, in truth, his motions do not slow at all.

I cannot for the life of me think of a reason, nor can I even think, to be honest. Instead, I latch onto his shoulder, biting, kissing, and muffling my noises.

Daemon leans into me and answers himself, "s'it because I should take care of my things, hmm?" He pants, "you belong to me, don't you?"

"Yes, Dae- yes, yes, ye-"

He drags out a hum, "oh, I'd be so sorry to break my pretty thing, wouldn't I? So sorry to break you," he chuckles lowly, "shall I take care of you, sweetheart?"

I squeak, "mmm, please. Pleassse"

"Such good manners," he sighs, "so well-bred. So willing to be bred."

The second wave of pleasure that comes upon me is far more intense and far more tiring than the first. I practically stop breathing as I convulse around him. I squeeze him so tightly with both my arms, my legs, and my cunt that I possibly empty the air out of his lungs as well.

I call out his name as I shatter beneath him.

Eventually, his persistent movements relent as he, too, quakes, and sequentially lays heavily above me, catching his breath just like I was.

As my pulse thuds, and as I feel his thudding, both against my chest and in my womb, I begin to stroke his back gently, relishing in the feel of him, his hotness, his scent. I think about what he asked, if I regret this. I release a deep breath. Certainly, in this moment, there was not a lick of regret or doubt in me with him.

My eyelids are as heavy as my breathing. If this would be what's it's like to be his wife, to love him, then there would never be an inch of regret in me.

I vaguely feel Daemon kiss my jaw before rolling off.

[regencyrosalie]

Hey there! <3 I really loved the way you write about modern! Anthony and I was wondering on maybe doing something with Benedict?

I was thinking always a modern one, either a xreader or maybe dating! headcanons!

in that case, thanks in anticipation and have a good day/night!!🩷🌸

hi hon ! thank you so much for sending an ask ! im going to structure this like i did for my anthony hc’s, i hope thats okay! im working on a fic rn that’ll be out hopefully soon!

biblically accurate modern!benedict hcs

- benedict WILL draw you

- he will draw quick little silly sketches of you in funny outfits and hats with exaggerated eyes and show them to you while giggling relentlessly

- but he also has an entire sketchbook filled with accurate and detailed drawings/paintings of you. he gets bashful every time you find a new one.

- may or may not have a caffeine addiction

- when you move in with him he moves his little art corner to a different room so you can still sleep while he works

- will get frustrated and come back into the bedroom and watch you sleep until he gets motivated/inspired again

- he loves dogs, specifically small dogs. chihuahuas are probably his favorite but he wont tell anyone.

- his sleep schedule is HORRIBLE, but it evens out when you live together because he wants to fall asleep with you.

- speaking of, i feel like Benedict is a human heater

- which is amazing during the winter

- but when it’s hot it is actually torture because hes trying to fall asleep practically on top of you.

- and youre like PLEASE get the FHUCK off of me and then he pouts and huffs until you make it work or he falls asleep

- benedict is close with every one of his siblings. but especially anthony and eloise.

- has funny uncle vibes

- especially with the younger siblings. he will sneak them candy and also probably money.

- anthony and violet have yet to find out

- i think he probably likes savory foods more than sweets, but will eat anything you make him.

- i feel like hes fully clothed about 50% of the time. the man despises pants i can just feel it in my bones.

- favorite color is red. he likes the versatility.

- cannot sing. but will sing. and will sing loudly. every shower is a concert.

- probably the closest with his mother

- love language is quality time

- this means picnic dates, movie dates, target run dates, going to the grocery store dates

- will make you handwritten cards and paintings for holidays, and puts sticky notes with sappy notes and bad pickup lines on everything you own.

- other than visual art, i think he has a few other hobbies. he likes movies, in fact, he pretty much likes every movie he watches. cant get into shows though, his attention span is not long enough. he also likes puzzles, and will frame them and keep them hoarded in his closet.

- i think a part of him is still grieving his father. violet was in constant agony after he died, and anthony was busy inheriting everything and dealing with the trauma of witnessing it: so benedict was left to pick up the pieces with the rest of the siblings. ie. explain what happened to the younger ones, try to cheer them up, etc.

- for that reason, i don’t think he ever really processed it completely, and he gets weirdly quiet when he thinks about it too long.

- cant be in anthony’s office for more than an hour at a time, because it used to be edmunds, and all he can think of is how he would pester his father all day while he worked.

[pieroulette]

Helloooo. Hope you're doing okay 🫶🏼

I wanted to know if I can request a Yuma one shot where he says something that upset you (he didn't mean it though) and you are giving him a bit of the cold shoulder. But then he's being so cute and extra you cave and just forgive him.

Please and thank you if you choose to do this!!!

snuggly, snaggletooth menace — nakakita yuma

author's note; ngl i enjoyed this lol.. ik this was a few months ago buttt im trying to complete the remaining requests i had! sorta find it fun to write teammies request for others recently ♡

you didn't have to go this far, you thought; sulking inside your room all while burying yourself in the mountains of blankets, comfying and comforting yourself, spam liking each and every post on your feed with rage imbued within your thumb while the other kittenish—sharkish little guy with his snuggle tooth peeking out whenever he smiles was probably out there roaming around looking for snacks.

but who cares right? who cares what he's up to? when he doesn't care what you're up to either anyway?

it just so happens when after throwing on the new pretty dress you bought—you giddily hopped to where he was—currently playing video games all while yelling at his poor teammates for messing up, specifically maki.

okay, maybe it was your fault for interrupting him but all you ask was a three-second attention and what was his opinion on the dress but how can he be so mean? "oh god, not you too (name), the dress suckass. get it?—maki! i told you to not spawn there you motherf—"

so here you are now not bothering to change into your pyjamas, so deep in your thought that you were unaware of the slow creak of the bedroom door, and the boy quietly slipping in through like a kitten on his paws, climbing on top of the bed.

you only realise it by the spot close to you deepening, signifying that he was close. and you didn't care any less to get out of your 'tent'. it was silent for a few moments, fiddling his hands and all before he place his palms on your covered form, "pretty, you okay?"

you weren't supposed to answer but the pet name somehow triggered you, in a bad way, of course. "p-pretty? now i am pretty? why don't you go back to your pretty game, pretty keyboard, or whatever it's called—"

you didn't get to continue your words when you got pushed deep into the bed, yuma's weight on top of yours as he mumbled, "okay, okay, i'm sorry. i know i was too mean—" you didn't have to see his face to know he was pouting, his arms wrapped around your waist as he held you tight. "forgive me please?"

"never— ah!" you let out a yelp when the blankets were pulled off your body, closing your eyes immediately with your hands but even that were yanked away by the boy who's right in front of you, his face leaning a few inches from yours—causing a light blush to dust off your cheeks. "get off!"

you pushed him off causing him to fell off the bed, a few exaggerated "ouch" emitted from him. "so mean."

"not like what you did to me exactly three hours ago, sorry not sorry, it's past the deadline."

"excuse me, there's even a deadline?" his jaw dropped as he rubbed his back, getting on top of the bed again. you ignored him with a glare and a pout, crossing your arms despite how he look so damn cute with his messy hair.

"whyyyy? am i not your little baby shark or baby snuggle tooth anymore?" okay, that's a foul. he shouldn't be doing that, but he's so good at it as he leans closer, placing his elbows on top of your blanket-covered knees, resting his chin on his palms as he pouted—his signature snuggle tooth peeking out.

"you little menace. that's not how you ask for forgiveness??"

"but it won't work if i don't you show my tooth! isn't that your weakness? am i not your weakness?"

"no get out!"

"i'll even give you my tooth if you want!" "i don't want your tooth! that's gross—"

"then what about me?"

"not a little menace like you." you let that out in a rather small voice, though. of course, you two knew better than that despite all the banters and stuff.

"whatever you say," yuma continued with a satisfied smile as his hands pulled off the blankets completely from you—revealing the dress you've wanted so bad to show him earlier. "it's pretty, but you already know you look pretty with anything, yeah?"

a few beats of silence surfaces in the air, but you eventually snorted "horrible pick up line! learn from nicholas or fuma, yeah?"

"they're not even good at it!—"

"well, atleast they're not gold at being a little meanie menace like you!"

"who says? nicho hyung is menace too! you just didn't see it, duh" yuma retorted, "besides, they don't have this—" pointing his index finger towards his tooth peeking from the top corner of his lips, "now, watch me do this. nyah, nyah!" to your huge shock, he imitated a kitten's gesture, forming his hands into a paw as he tried so hard to make you giggle, singing a random kitten song and replacing it with apologetic lyrics.

you were about to burst into laughter but you held it in, but goddamn your stomach were about to explode as the boy won't stop with his kitten agenda.

"oh god— can't you laugh? i'm sacrificing my reputation right here, i can't let see kei hyung or maki sees this or they'll humiliate me for life—" yuma almost look like a draining line sticker drifting off the air, but continued afterwards.

"tch," you scoffed, but you could no longer hold it as you laughed so hard, and oh boy, did he loved the sight in front of him. "you silly menace."

signed and delivered! — sat, 6 jan 2024.

[ferrstappen]

same anon here with the birth of the twins ask i sent earlier lmao i meant born first. which twin was born first, not early. sorry im sleep deprived and english is not englishing at the moment 😭

hello honey! I totally understand you and THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS QUESTION honestly I love mila and Luca. and also to the anon who requested pregnancy bits I'm on it, I just want to do it justice and not rush it :(

Honestly I hadn't put many thought on that, but I've really been thinking about it bc yes, when I saw the question I said Mila 100% is the oldest twin and Luca the youngest, but...

the day the twins were born l MV1

when I picture the labour, everything going smoothly, caesarean being planned months ahead for Max to be 100% available and no one could bother him or put something on the calendar.

Max would beholding your hand and whispering sweet nothings, how brave you were even when you assured him you weren't feeling anything, but he'd be keeping his eye not only on your health but making his presence known; the least he could do was make sure the best nurses, midwives, doctors and medical personnel in general were the best to take care of you and bring the very awaited Verstappen babies to the world. he'd side eye whenever the nurses and midwives made a comment about their lunch or something banal, because the only thing they were allowed to think and speak was his wife laying on the table and being prepared for the babies to be in perfect conditions.

and the only thing they'd said was yes Mr. Verstappen, yes Mrs. Verstappen.

as the time of the procedure approached he'd sit next to you, his head resting next to yours and his both his hands holding your belly, taking deep breaths, trying to communicate the twins they'd be together soon, and taking in the image of your swollen belly for the last time.

of course you'd giggle when he entered the operation room with sterile clothing, but finding comfort in his blue eyes being visible, long and defined lower lashes caressing his skin, his thumb running through your cheeks and forehead, and the strong grip of his hand were the only thing you tried to focus on as you could feel your body being manipulated.

the first scream was loud, but not as loud as you'd imagine, it was received as if the baby was annoyed of being disrupted and having to use his own lungs to breathe.

"a nice cry for this baby boy," the doctor would announce, handing him to the pediatrician to check him before wraping him in a warm towel and placing him on Max's arm, a nurse encouraging him to place the baby next to your face due to the arms being restricted.

you'd cry at the sight of him, heart immediately growing a million times bigger and it wasn't an exaggeration; the way his eyes were squeezed together, hands closed tightly, quiet sounds leaving his lips, everything stopped for you for those seconds.

and Max felt the same, his heart beating a thousand beats per minute when his arms felt the weight of his son, seeing his features, his small nose. but he wasn't relaxed or relieved in any way, knowing your body still had to endure being delivered the baby girl. he was told it was safe to leave the baby next to your face, which he did and went back to keeping an eye on what was going on on the other side of the medical sheet covering from your neck down.

he knew there was a reason why he couldn't feel relief and it wasn't just because he always worried and needed things to be right, and his gut was proven right when baby number two was delivered, but there wasn't a loud scream or annoyed cries, it was silent. a nurse immediately grabbed the baby boy (he still didn't have a name, you had a top 3 list where you'd choose after they were born) from your side, putting him on a crib, at the same time the pediatrics team grabbed the baby girl and placed her on a crib that looked a bit more complicated, more tubes and stuff surrounding it.

"max, what's happening?" you asked your husband, knowing you should've heard your baby girl by now.

"I don't know, but don't worry, schat. they're working on her,"

it was the first time he felt the desperation of being a father: worried, helpless, desperate, so many feelings and none of them were good as he approached where his daughter was being moved around, nurses carefully massaging her feet, multiple warm towels under her, a weird thing being placed on her nostrils.

those were the worst fifty seconds of his life. until he heard the loudest scream he'd ever heard, not even comparable to the one that marked the birth of his brother. it was loud, fierce, almost desperate.

it was his daughter and he instantly knew no one would even think of hurting her, and he also knew his son was a born protector, the first born, he'd able to overcome anything.

martin? levi? lucas? max stared at his son staring at him from his left arm, not so sure.

zoe? sofie? camila? max looked down at his sleeping daughter on his right arm.

maybe he'd have to wait until you woke up from all the medication, you'd probably know.

---------------------

I got carried away im sorry, I hope it still answers your question though :(

[fruitageoforanges]

Hello, I read your aegond fic series recently and wow, it’s kind of crazy how so many small details you added to it actually ended up happening in the show 😭 the little sunfyre boops, theory going around fandom rn that helaena sometimes mends Aegon’s clothing when she’s embroidering. MOST of Aegon’s characterization this season. Even Aegon listening to petitions kind of felt like the scene with Helaena doing the same. And I think you captured the vibes I get from all 3 of them based on the show perfectly. Aemond’s temper and overall pragmatic attitude is so spot on, the scene of him dressing down larys reminded me of him talking to the substitute Lannister hand in your fic.

It’s like my fix it for all the wasted potential of season 2. Im so sad bc i’m loving the actors’ portrayals but i hate so much of what they’re making them do?? So thank you for writing it!! You took everything i liked from the show and made smth very lovely and emotionally cathartic from it

Also would love to hear your thoughts on season 2 bc I think your characterization for the siblings and Alicent is so spot on. Anything you liked or disliked from what they’ve been doing so far?

thank you so much! i’m glad you enjoyed the series, and that it can make up for a bit of the stupidity of s2! as you can probably tell from the way i wrote the yellow dress series, i’m not best pleased with a lot of the writing choices for s2. i’ll go through each of the characters and tell you what i think:

alicent: i’m torn, because while i feel like show!alicent (and show!rhaenyra) does a massive disservice to book!alicent, because the showrunners seem to have got it in their heads that a sympathetic woman is one who is constantly the victim of those around her and that sympathy is more important than making a character interesting, i also think her characterisation in this season is pretty coherent for the way they set her up in s1, and i do enjoy it. ironically what i really enjoy is her and aemond’s relationship falling apart — i saw a very good post talking about the driftmark incident, and how aemond idolises her for her expression of protective fury while she hates that she lost control like that, and him realising she’s never going to stand up for him instead of rhaenyra like that again is an excellent way to fracture their relationship.

helaena: i really like her characterisation! aside from the fact that maelor not existing really diminishes b&c, i think they’ve struck a good balance between showing her being heavily affected but not reducing all of her agency like in the book. the fact that they’re giving her and aegon’s relationship more weight than they did in s1 pleases me greatly.

aegon: i mostly enjoy his characterisation this season — i really enjoyed the second brothel scene as it showed he hasn’t really stopped being a bit of a shit to aemond over the years, and let’s be honest, he’s never going to stop, that’s just how their relationship is. what i don’t like is the ways the showrunners have deliberately exaggerated his incompetence, like him being shut out of the plan for rook’s rest, going into battle drunk and not even knowing high valyrian. i feel like this is partially because the showrunners really want us to know this is the rhaenyra show, and partially what i said above with regards to alicent — because it’s the rhaenyra show, they seem to have it in their head that characters can only be sympathetic if they’re victimised by others to some degree and not directly involved in prosecuting the war. so if they want some degree of sympathy for aegon, they feel like they have to diminish his involvement, and make him a victim of his own team, which leads me on to…

aemond: of all the greens, i’m most annoyed at how aemond has been characterised this season. the writers seem to have decided he’s the character they can make an unequivocal villain even to his own side in order to make alicent and aegon “more sympathetic”. this when they did such a good job in his 13 minutes of screen time in s1 of making him more than the one-dimensional psycho he was in the book. and even in the book, he didn’t betray aegon at rook’s rest!! that was the lazy way out of the aegond relationship — though i might’ve hated it less if it was given any emotional weight. ewan mitchell is wasted on this writing; he does so well with simple facial expressions, but the writers seem to have decided that aside from the first brothel scene, aemond doesn’t get to have emotions. or, you know, a coherent character arc — with aegon’s comments about him being a loyal hound in ep 1, i thought he was being set up to have to choose between his own ambitions and loyalty, or that he might have a scrap of complicated feelings about rook’s rest, but no, the evil switch has been flipped, so bye bye character arc. that said, i love how he’s demolishing the small council at the moment and cackled out loud when he put larys down. get his ass, babygirl. he’s also the only targtower at the moment to be actually focusing on winning the war, so well done my pragmatic wife.

daeron: he exists! at last! stupid to not even mention him in s1, but i’m so fucking excited to meet him and deeply tickled to think of him as a mini-gwayne.

i don’t have too many thoughts about team black other than that the show has done unforgivable things to baela the brave… but i must admit that jace has wormed his way into my heart by being a) the prettiest, most fashionable princess of the season and b) constantly done with rhaenyra’s bullshit. he and aemond need to get together and commiserate over having to deal with their mothers’ nonsense.

[miaunifest]

“find your own seat!”

summary: your best friend steals your unassigned assigned seat before a debriefing. you’re somewhat dramatic, though you’d disagree; but suddenly you’re in his quarters confessing your love at 2 am.

a/n: bc u guys r sleeping on him while im sleeping with him 🤞🏼 i have not written an actual fic in so long bare with me pls…

You left behind “seating charts” and “assigned seats” the moment you graduated highschool - which is exactly why you were making a fuss about a certain Sergeant Kyle “Gaz” Garrick sitting in your seat. It offended you more than it should’ve, really, considering how Kyle spent every waking moment with you and knew how territorial you could get.

This had most likely been the biggest betrayal of your life, and it happened right under your nose. From that stupid, handsomely smug grin Kyle had been wearing since you first chatted in the morning to the way he stared at you innocently, your figure towering over his.

“Do you need something?” He asked, biting back a giggle.

“I do! And I am so glad you asked me,” you sneered (somewhat) playfully.

“You know I’d do anything for you, (Y/N). What do you need?”

“For you to get out of my seat.”

Was it ridiculous that you were upset over this? Yes. Would Soap be making fun of you for getting defensive over a chair later? Without a doubt. Are you a drama queen who lives to cause unnecessary scenes? Absolutely.

A tension sat in the air, bordering on sexual and romantic, while successfully being hostile. Not hostile enough to remove your best friend from your spot, of course. All you could think about while looking at him was about the nerve this man has; does he not know everyone has their own unofficial seats? You sit next to Kyle while Soap sits across from you. Price and Ghost interchanged their seats, not really caring who they were across or next to.

Even with that, one thing was certain - the seat across from Soap was yours. It had been since you first walked into that godforsaken meeting room, Kyle beckoning you to sit next to him, a smile plastering that stupid face of his. That stupid face you wanted so badly to hold and pepper with kisses, listening as he giggled, body undoubtedly getting warmer.

Another thing that was certain happened to be your unmoving gaze, the only thing breaking your trance being a gentle kick to your boot. Back to the point, your seat was stolen - or something along those lines.

“Move.” You demanded while puffing your chest in an attempt to appear bigger, an attempt Kyle found albeit cute.

“Unless Price walks in here with a seating arrangement, I don’t think I will,”

An exasperated sigh left your lips, “find your own seat!”

By some miracle of God (Ghost and Price walked through the door) he moved back to his seat, sparing you another 5 minutes of stress as your meeting began.

“You’re such a drama queen,” Kyle nudged you gently, holding open the door for you.

“Tuh! Not even,” but you were nothing short of it.

“Yes even! You looked like you were ready to beat me half to death with that damn chair,”

“I’m the most rational person on this team!” Your right hand found its way to your heart, resting over it to exaggerate.

“Said nobody ever,” he smiled, earning a shove from you.

Your eyes rolled playfully, thinking about how there’s never a dull day with him around.

That mindset is probably how you found yourself inside of his quarters at 2 am, your heart was beating so fast and irregularly a doctor would’ve mistaken your feelings for a heart murmur. In all honesty, you can’t blame them - he really did make you feel like you had a heart murmur sometimes, as niche as it sounds.

“Why are you awake?” Kyle asked with sleep in his voice. God, it just made you want to bite him so hard like he’s pure jello. Not in a sexual way (though you wouldn’t mind it), call it cuteness aggression. A whole bunch of it. An unhealthy amount, you’d argue.

Suddenly your knees wanted to buckle and you tripped over your own tongue, tumbling on every single word that refused to leave your throat. Only strings of, “uhhh,” and “ummm”s leaving your mouth.

Are you supposed to feel this way around your best friend? Definitely not. Were you going to ignore this feeling? Not for any longer.

“Couldn’t sleep, I was thinking,” you were being honest, truth only ever left your lips - well, most of the time anyway.

“About..?” He dragged out the ‘o’, your breath hitched.

Adrenaline and anxiety were far from new feelings, they’re considerably familiar around Kyle. It wasn’t just tonight those feelings kept you up, for someone who (literally) pushes him around all the time, he plagued your mind. There was something so comforting and scary about what you were going through. Comforted by the fact that it’s your best friend you are very obviously in love with, but scared by that same thought.

Who wouldn’t be scared about losing it all? Completely tarnishing your friendship, one you’d spent so much time building and cherishing. There was everything to lose with only one thing to gain: clarity. Clarity about his feelings, because you’ll be damned, he was so open he could be difficult to read.

You were going to say something you’d regret tonight, if you could get out any cohesive sentences that is.

You. I was thinking about you and that dumb laugh you have and how you always hold the door open for me and you’re the first to notice what’s wrong and the fact you listen to me when it feels like I’m drowning myself out and -

Your reply was only said the first word, of course. Confidence and courage were not your fortes, but if you hoped hard enough one day you’d speak your mind freely.

“You.”

He smiled? You think he did, at least. There wasn’t much, or any light, actually. Was his room always this hot? The sweat forming in your palms tells you otherwise, but the temperature distracts you from whatever words might come out of Kyle’s mouth next.

“I was thinking about you too.”

Your body froze. Algor mortis is what they call it; the second stage of death where your internal body temperature starts dropping beneath the standard, which is 98.7°F. But you weren’t dead, no not even close, you were very much alive and your painfully loud heartbeats contested to that.

You’ve never been so incredibly alert, you could feel your blood rushing all throughout your body, how uneven your breathing was so you started manually inhaling to fix it, and at some point you’d stopped blinking? Your body was on autopilot but it was so .. not, all at once.

That was when you said the thing you knew you’d regret. Those 3 damned words that had you entangled in your thoughts for so long, you failed to notice who was right in front of you. Your eyes didn’t move, observing the floor with an awful intensity.

“I love you.”

Shock? Fear? Happiness? Relief? Actually, whose emotions were you even trying to read? Either way, it was about as clear as heavy fog. Those emotions were only dogpiled onto when you felt a rough, but gentle hand cup your chin to make you look at him. Out of all the ways you’d envisioned your death, suspense was definitely not one of them.

Fortunately, his following sentence eased your nerves as fast as they’d been created.

“…Enough to let me steal your seat in the meeting room?”

[yueisyum]

Can i ask for a short smut for jeno’s bday special🫣

Yes you can 🤗

“Baby? I’m home!” Jeno calls from the front door, flicking his shoes off as fast as possible. The whole way home he was cursing his company for having him work on his birthday. Even if he did have fun filming a “birthday special,” he wanted to spend his day with his favorite person- his girlfriend, the love of his life, you. However, he starts doubting that possibility when he doesn’t hear your sweet voice call back to him.

He doesn’t bother hanging his bag up, instead carelessly dropping it next to his shoes on the floor. “Baby? Y/n?” his voice almost echos in the apartment. Poking his head into the kitchen, it’s almost the same as when he left it. A far part in his mind began believing you’ve forgotten that this his “special day” but when he heard a door swing open, the shower running, and the sound of your wet feet hitting the ground as you speed down the hallway, he allowed his mind to relax.

It all happened so fast, when his eyes finically land on you, he sees you’re wearing one if his shirts, it’s soaking wet, along with your hair- and the rest if your body. Soap sliding down your let’s as you almost wattle up to him. You must’ve struggled out of the shower once you heard him calling for you, and he can’t help but find that absolutely adorable. He takes a note to scold you about running with wet feet later.

“Sorry, I was in the shower” he can’t even begin to explain how he’s feeling right now. His shirt is big on you, (of course) covering your body down to your thighs, except the shirt is soaking and sticking to your body. So he can happily see all of your beautiful curves. He chuckles before responding “Yeah I can see that love, you didn’t have to get out of the shower-“

“-I didn’t see you this morning, so I never got to wish you a happy birthday. And god would kill me if I just sent you a text” you explain, your hands holding yourself due to the cold. Before he has a chance to urge you back into the bathroom, you cut him off. “Happy birthday! I would give you a hug baby, but I’m soaking, you wanna kiss instead ?” You ask, puckering your lips for him. Jeno can only laugh, leaning in to place a peck on the corner of your mouth. “I hope you still had a good day, I bought a cake and everything just in case you had to work all da-”

“Thank you baby, I had a good day, I got to blow out candles and everything” he exaggerates, widening his eyes with a smile. “Wow really? More than one candle? You must of had a blast huh?” You play along, not bothering to hide the smile on your face. “Can I join you in the shower?” He asks.

You take a moment to ponder, making sure to be as dramatic as possible at such a request from your boyfriend. “Like… me and you both in the shower?” You point to yourself then back to him.

He nods, already catching on to your little bit. But he doesn’t mind, actually, he finds it cute. “Yeah..”

“As in like.. both of us.. naked” you continue, this time earning a chuckle from him as he admires you. “Yup, barebacked” he closes his eyes, and nods to emphasize his statement.

Your smirk drops and you deadpan at him. “It was going so well… why did you have to say it like that?” Almost whining, you stomp your wet feet on the wood causing drops of water to fall from your body, Jeno can only giggle in response. His hands find your wet waist. Pulling you into his body, not bothering about his own clothes. The two of you share a moment of silence, admiring his face and his stupid smile while his hands pull you impossibly close. “Is the water hot yet?”

“I wouldn’t have gotten in if it wasn’t.” You give him another smile before your thoughts interrupt the moment. “So… does this count as a birthday gift?” Your hands find his chest, resting them on his bicep. “Depends. You gonna wash me?”

“What are you a baby?”

“Im your baby.”

You give a lighthearted scoff. When he leans in for another kiss you don’t stop him, instead you embrace him, his lips are warm and comforting, and his arms aren’t any different. They unsurprisingly begin to roam your body, his big hands grabbing a hold of any skin he can. And his lips find your jaw.

“So pretty” he mumbles into your neck, exhaling and inhaling your sent. “Jeno?” You call him, but you’ve already lost him, his hands pushing the arch of your back into him. When he teases at your sweet spot, you decide that this isn’t all bad, and your hands find his hair. “So tiny” he groans in responds to the light pull of his hair.

“Jeno?”

“Hm?”

“Aren’t we going to shower?”

“Forget the shower love, let’s go to the bedroom, yeah?”

He finally pulls away from your neck, getting a good look at the mark he knows will become more evident later. “I’m soaking wet jeno” you laugh at his ridiculous suggestion while he licks at his lips, this actions making you squeeze your thighs together.

“I bet you are” before you can even slap him for that stupid joke, his hands slide down below your ass, lifting you up despite the slipperiness of your skin. “The sheets will get soaked, and we’ll have to wash them” you try to argue and he makes his way to the bedroom. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, I’ll wash them” he reply’s simply, as if nothing will get in the way of what he wants right now.

You

“The shower is still running, the water bill-“

“-I’ll go turn it off.” You are dropped into the bed, your body bouncing a couple times before you find your balance. Once you have, jeno has already returned from turning off the water, closing the door to the room behind him.

“-a-are you serious?!” You can’t help but giggle, his eagerness is only making you more horny, you’ll admit it. His hands find the hem of his shirt and he pull the fabric over he head and tossing it to the ground. “What? Im the birthday boy”

Nerd

As jeno climbs onto the bed, he doesn’t fail to find the hem of his your own shirt, while keeping eye contact with you. “Lay back.” You do as he says (of course) leaning back as the shirt is discarded from your skin, leaving you naked under him “Yes sir” you joke, biting your lip. He throws the shirt so it lays along the floor with his own.

“Baby, if you leave that wet for to long it will start to smell, so make sure-“

“-i know, I know love, relax” Jeno’s hands caress your face, placing another kiss on your temple. “I’ll take care of it.” You don’t stop the smile from taking over your features. Jeno leans back, unbuckling his jeans, as he does, you admire his body. His abs, his arms, his hands, and the way he’s looking at you. When he gets his jeans off, he climbs back over you. For some reason, you feel a lot more nervous then you usually would be.

His gaze on you seemed ten times more intimate then usual. “Where do you wanna start?” He questions, absentmindedly squeezing at your thighs, making it harder for you to focus. “It’s your birthday, where do you want to start?”

Jeno takes in your shaky response, the way your chest is rising and fall a bit too quickly and despite just getting out the water, your skin is hot to the touch. There’s no panic in your eyes, but jeno can tell your feeling a bit overwhelmed.

“Relax baby, I’m serious” his tone lowers, soft and caring, And you wonder how on earth you’re supposed to relax when he talks to you like that. “I’m relaxed” you defend, finally allowing your hands to wrap around his head.

Another moment of silence takes over you two, he waits until your breathes are even before leaning in to kiss you again. Slower and softer then before. His hand gently cups your breast, playing with skin in his hand, And you wonder how many times he has to go easy on you because you’re so sensitive-

His fingers have already found your folds, his middle and ring finger lightly play with them, slowly until he’s found your clit. Your breath hitches for just a moment at the feeling of his hands exactly where you need them. “So fucking perfect” he repeats his earlier actions of travelling down your jaw to your neck. Not leaving one area of skin untouched. When he reaches your tits, he takes your nipple into his mouth, causing you to lightly moan. leaning your head back for him. he allows his finger to slip into you, causing a another breathless moan to leave your lips. Jeno’s tongue flicks over your nipple a couple times before he adds another finger. “Are you okay?” He asks lifting his head from your chest. Realizing you’ve been quiet the entire time, you give him a nod. “Of course”

The warm smile you give him is contagious, his body relaxes at the response, sending you the same smile to calm the both of you. “I’m gonna finger you baby, okay? So lift your legs”

You hate that he has to say it so bluntly, but lift your knees nonetheless, spreading your legs for him to adjust between them. “Good girl”

His voice is low, and his gaze finds yours once again- He knows what he’s doing- asshole

But you can’t complain because you know he can see your smile, and his stupid smirk grows in satisfaction. “You like that hm? Me calling you a good girl?”

“Shut up”

His face recoils playfully, “Oo how can I call you a good girl when you’re being so bad?” he begins laughing before he even finishes the sentence, and you only role your eyes while holding back your own laughter. Another kiss settles the mood back into place, and his fingers pick up in speed. They’re long and thicker than your own, reaching places you couldn’t. He continues, hitting just the right spots that make your toes curl, But he stops, just when it starts getting good. This happens about two more times before you whine, lightly slapping at his chest and closing your legs around his arm.

“Baby! Please”

“I know, I just got to prep you-“

“I’m prepped! Promise” you whine.

“So needy” he cocks his head to the side, pocking the inside of his cheek with his tongue. But he’s not really complaining- how could he? His girlfriend is almost begging him to fuck her-

Anyway, jeno pulls away his hand, sucking on both fingers while readjusting himself between you. The sight has you pooling.

Sexy motherfucker

“Alright love, open” he taps you thighs and you open your legs as he situates himself, pulling himself from his boxers. Angry red and twitching, you wonder why he’s been so persistent on taking our time when he’s that hard- His hands warps around his length, giving it a few long strokes. He’s thick, even for his own hands, tapping at your entrance, he allows your hole to swallow him in.

“God- I’ve been thinking about you all day” he shamelessly admits. jeno doesn’t waste a moment, falling to hover over you and continuing to push himself into your hole. Stretching and stuffing you full of his cock.

The feeling was filling and a bit painful, but so satisfying nonetheless. “Wanna know what I wished for when I blew out the candles?”

You adjust yourself to him before responding, shifting your body down and holding into his arms for dear life. “The wish won’t come true if you tell me baby”

He chuckles, causing movement inside of you, and pleasure climbing up your spine. “It already has” his forehead rests on yours with the same stupid smile of his face, it’s only making you more and more giddy. “So cheesy” you breathlessly laugh.

Jeno begins to slowly roll his hips into you, you can feel every vein and curve of him as he does. “I don’t know, I thought that was pretty clever”

“It was cliché”

“So your not flattered?”

“I’m honoured”

His thrusts pick up, setting an easy rhythm. You hum every time you feel a stretch, and he’s right along with you. His right hand finds a strand of hair on your face and gently guide it away from your eyes. “Is this good?”

You can’t help but fall apart around him. “Mhm” you respond, biting at your lip.

“Yeah? It’s good baby?” He coos, allowing a small whine to escape his lips.

“It’s good” you moan, resting your arms on his shoulders. His pace begins to quicken and his hands rests at your hip. His hand occasionally squeezes at the skin, probably earning a couple small love bruises. Every now and then he’ll slow down, making use not to cum too quickly.

Your sweating, panting as you whole body jerks with his movements. Small nothings leave his lips every now and then when he hits the right angle. But once he’s found a place l, he begins to pound into you. Leaning you lost in pleasure, you limbs going limp as he holds you.

“You aren’t close already are you princess?” he teases with a smile, when your body slightly jerks into him.

“No”

Yes you were, only god knows how- but you were. Feeling as if a fire was ignited in your abdomen, you try to stretch you legs out to adjust, only causing his to hit deeper.

“Oh god-“ you whimper, arching off the bed and into him. “It’s okay baby, I got you.” Jeno reassures, lifting your thighs until the touch your stomach. “There we go, this Better?”

“Yes” your try to respond, but it only comes out as a broken whisper. You are fluttering around him, making it harder for him to keep a controlled pace. He’s desperately pumping into you now, once again connecting his lips with yours. “You feel so good” he mumbles before biting at your lip, too much is happening so you take it upon yourself to close your eyes and brace for impact.

“Wanna cum inside you baby, I want to feel you suck me in”

Usually you’d be upset with how lewd he’s talking but his words only guide you closer to you climax. “You gonna let me baby? Since it’s my birthday?”

Even if it wasn’t your probably would’ve said yes, how couldn’t you. But for the plot of course- “I thought I already made your candle wish come true?” He laughs, but it quickly turns into a moan as his hips stutter. “I wished you be good for me all night”

“Is that so?”

“It is”

Your body shudders and he jerks into you. “So tight- please baby” your gut tightens and he’s pulsing.

“Shit, cum inside me jeno”

And with that, his head falls into the crock of your neck, and he releases inside of you. The back of your neck burns as your own climax hits, clawing at his back with his name on your lips.

Both still yourselfs to calm your breathes. You legs fall to your sides and he kisses your temple. “Aren’t you supposed to say happy birthday after sex?” He breaks the silence, pulling away just enough to see your pretty, decked face.

You pretend to think for a moment. “Only in movies…” you begin, lifting your head to give him a kiss, “..but if you say please-“

“Please?”

You giggle again, bitting your lip as he touches your nose to his. “Happy birthday baby”

Another long loving kiss is shared before he pulls out. “Round two in ten minutes?”

The snort you let out was almost comical, “you need a whole ten minutes!? What are you getting too old for multiple rounds?“ you whines when he playfully punches your thigh. “You were the one shaking”

“You were shaking too-“

Note: did not spell check! Also sorry if it seems rushed, I tried to take my time on it!!

Next couple weeks will be the last of my “absent-ness”? - basically I’ll be back on here like normal soon

[hiroshotreplica]

im sorry you probably dont want this in your askbox but i dont really think it makes sense to talk about madness and leafi the same way for a lot of reasons. Idk maybe im just seeing a transgirl getting relentlessly dogpiled because of old screenshots and having an over-empathetic response but fuck man she was 13 when those screenshots were taken. Shes not even 18 right now shes crazy young for her level of play (like literally should be community banned for lying about being 13 for multiple years during splatoon 2 to get around discord community guidelines but thats a tangent). She said in her apology she was trying to fit in with a real shitty group of people she doesn't associate with anymore and fuck man im probably giving herself way too much grace cause i seeing a terrifying exaggeration of something i went through on a public scale but like people are editing HER face onto memes and talking shit about HER and constantly misgendering her when madness is not only an actual adult but has been ACTUALLY DOING THIS SHIT RECENTLY. im not saying the shit she was saying wasnt heinous but fuck man this isnt gonna help her and i dont want the dumass bullshit she said when she was a middle schooler to ruin the rest of her life. sorry for the white girl mental illness blast but there is important context in this ranty anxiety and projection goop

anon asked for a tldr for the situation w/ jackpot as a whole, which included leafi's part in the situation. as the post was about how jackpot as a team has made racist statements. i chose screenshots that put my point clearly, which just so happened to be screenshots with madness and leafi. i'll go more into it here, though

i did not mean to compare her to madness when including screenshots of her old statements. i was compiling the most blatant screenshots from the thread i had originally linked in a prior post. i was going to include other things, but didnt have the time to compile them and was beginning to get stressed about being the source of this info on tumblr.

i was also going to include this video of her saying racist statements in 2024, but i didnt want to include a twitter link for an anon that couldnt access twitter. im realizing i shouldve done so

i do feel bad for her getting involved with a group of people THAT bad if she was truly that ignorant when she was younger, but thats where my sympathy ends. she still acted racist and still associated with clearly racist people even when she was older and more mature. ive learned since making that post that she was born in 2007. 16 is still an age where you should be mature enough to understand that those comments are racist, even with america's shitty public education system glossing over racism.

i definitely see why this can look like people dogpiling on a trans woman though, and the people doing memes and editing her into them in general about this situation are disgusting. i had no idea she was trans and that people were misgendering her. anyone making this situation about her being trans are awful and not people i stand by.

but all of that, including her being skilled despite her age, still doesnt forgive or erase her actions. nothing like that does for the other members of jackpot that have also stated racist things. nothing like that does for any other comp splatoon player that has said anything similar. the apology she put out was needed, but from what ive heard from others, it wasnt the best. she is writing another apology, though, so it couldve just been rushed.

no one has to accept her apology, either. as a white person myself, im not one that should even be one to accept her apology. it wasnt an apology for me, and it isnt one for you, either (if you are white as you say but i might be misreading). people should not be painted in a negative light for not accepting her apology even if it were an amazing one.

the way some people are reacting to this situation is not okay, but she still did awful things that she should be held accountable for. the other guilty members of jackpot are not better than her, but theyve all still said fucked up things. none of them have done anything to prove they arent racist, and theres only more evidence coming out that proves that they have been, so its hard to process at the moment.

could things change? yes, of course, but as of right now, leafi has stated racist things as recent as 2024 and put out a poor apology trying to defend herself. people are handling it poorly and trying to make it about her identity and making memes on it when it is not the right thing to do. these racist claims are being put w/ other racist claims made by other jackpot team members so it was included in my tldr post about the entire situation.

i apologize for poor wording in this, im not the best w/ these kinds of posts

[fullonfandomindulgence]

The Same People (2/5)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Drive folder - AO3

In which Mob has asked out Tsubomi and some other things start happening.

Click for bigger images. Notes and ID below.

notes: im sowwy the art on part 1 is so janky. i mean. jankier than this. i wanted to get it tf out to hold myself accountable for finishing the rest. might redo it eventually but right now onto 3 and 4! i promise there will be more jokes. and more locations than < < trees > >. im tryna let tsubomi be the weirdo i know she is. am i stretching believability how long mob stayed in the park before going back to reigen and dimple?? who cares. uh, lemme know if u like this, or if u have constructive criticism, i could use the feedback

ID: Four black and white comics pages about characters from Mob Psycho 100.

Page 1:

Tsubomi's head and torso are centered in an otherwise empty panel. She is hunched and her body is turned away, but she's looking straight at the reader, head tilted, a rueful smile on.

In the same view, Tsubomi straightens and puts her hands on her hips, leaning her head back. She tilts it to one side and looks down her nose at the reader, brow furrowed, mouth closed and wide.

Tsubomi centers her head, closes her eyes, straightens her arms, and suddenly (motion lines) claps her hands to the sides of her thighs in exaggerated formality.

She quickly (motion lines) bows. "I'm sorry, Mob. I've never thought about you that way."

Page 2:

Tsubomi and Mob are both visible in front of black silhouetted trees, Tsubomi leaning forward coming out of her bow, Mob leaning forward in dismay. Tsubomi looks blankly to one side and thinks, "I mean maybe when I was like, nine." Mob thinks, "But what about when we were nine??"

Over Tsubomi's shoulder, Mob looks cowed. Tsubomi is unhappy but frank, eyelids low, eyebrows high. "We've barely talked in, three years? We're not the same people we were." Mob: "Yeah…" Tsubomi: "I don't know you. I thought…"

An empty panel except for Tsubomi's head and shoulders occupying one side. She looks away, brow folded.

Tsubomi again looks down her nose at Mob, head tilted back and to the side, but this time smiling knowingly, arms spread out. Beside her is a damaged tree, wounded in two places. "I mean you're proud you did it though, right?"

Tsubomi's open hand is in close-up, and behind it Mob looking on. His eyes are empty. He is concerned.

Page 3:

Mob remains concerned and uncertain. "I--even if you don't want to uh, go, out, I'm still sad you're leaving."

Tsubomi sags. We look up at her as she and the trees twist away. "Yeah… I dunno."

Tsubomi's head and shoulders are upside down. She is facing away. Trees form abstract black stripes. The panel border is gone. "It'll be nice to have a change."

Mob's head and shoulders are in front of a bare tree with lots of small branches and twigs. He looks down.

Then a closeup of Mob's eye as he squints. "You waited for me here. Through the whole storm…"

The view zooms out, looking at Mob and Tsubomi from above. The trees are bent, leaves fly through the air, and Tsubomi's hair is blown back. Mob, standing tall, looks at Tsubomi, hunched and looking away.

Page 4:

The view is from underneath Mob and at an odd angle. Leaves ruffle around him. Mob says, concerned, "You must be pretty disappointed that I invited you here just to ask you out like everyone else."

A tiny panel. Mob is a black silhouette facing Tsubomi, who looks up from her head tilted away.

Tsubomi faces the reader, the otherwise empty panel framing her head and upper torso. In sadness her eyebrows are knit, her lower eyelids are up, and her mouth is small. "Yeah."

She shrugs.

Mob is in the same view, facing the reader. He leans to the side. There is a flower on his head. A petal has fallen off and is drifting away.

End ID.