#i don't really stand by these designs as much as i would have i feel like this is way younger sidiego

[random2908]

I mean... OP is from Australia, I think? As are some of the other commenters? This isn't entirely about the US.

In America, the degree to which this is unadorned truth versus exaggeration depends what you're buying. I expect a sweatshirt to last at least five years of daily wear; however, I don't wash them unless they are visibly dirty or it's been, like, several months. I expect a t-shirt to last about 5 years in rotation where I might wear it once every 2 weeks and wash it regularly. My winter jacket was purchased 16 or 17 years ago (from a random store at the mall) and my fall jacket was purchased 8 years ago (from Kohl's, a mid-range department store), and although my winter jacket doesn't fit all that well anymore, neither jacket is nearing the end of its lifetime. I generally keep 2-4 pairs of jeans in rotation, washing them about monthly, and expect them to last about 3 years. My dad bought me two bed sets from Target (cheap department store) 20 years ago, and for a long time I just alternated between them; the fitted sheet on one of them tore after about 7 years and the other lasted 19 years. (Admittedly, I'm apparently really gentle with all of my possessions, because my electronics, furniture, etc also seem to last relatively long.)

So yeah, some stuff lasts. However.

My jeans that wear through in 3 years, first of all, would wear through in a couple months if I treated them like a child would--I know this with some certainty because I do occasionally tear them at work. Whereas when I was a child in the 80s/90s, my jeans lasted 1-2 years of running around and falling down. And some people have jeans from the 1970s that are still wearable. So yeah, my jeans don't wear out in a season, but they do last at most 1/2 as long, probably a lot less than that, compared to jeans of decades ago. And you can feel that the fabric is much thinner.

I remember in 1998, on a road trip, my mom bought me a t-shirt from a t-shirt stand, for $5, and the material felt completely different. Much softer, much thinner, than any of my other t-shirts. (I was 15, so I'd had a lot of time to learn what a t-shirt should feel like.) But it still said 100% cotton--it wasn't a different material, just a worse construction. These days, it's the other way around: I have exactly one t-shirt with the texture of the ones of my childhood, and all the rest feel like that one cheap shirt. And all but that one t-shirt has ripped on my belt buckle no matter how well I file down any sharp edges, because the shirts are so thin and flimsy. Sure, I usually wear these shirts for about 5-6 years until the holes are bad enough that they aren't presentable. The design has usually all the way worn off by then. But I was still wearing t-shirts from middle school when I was in grad school, and some of them had almost no degradation of the design (luckily when I was in middle school oversize t-shirts were in, so they fit properly when I was a young adult). Also, the t-shirts from my childhood, when they finally wore out when I was an adult, it was because the seams ripped. The t-shirts from my adulthood, when they wear out, it's because holes tear in the fabric itself.

So far I've been mostly talking about all-cotton clothing, except for the sweatshirts, and sometimes the jeans, which are a mix. The synthetic stuff falls apart a lot quicker. I have a dress that I've worn twice, that I washed once (careful of the instructions on the tag) and it's already pilling. Pilling means significant fabric loss, which means its days are number until it's ready to tear.

So yeah, a lot of generic clothing does last longer than people are saying--but some doesn't. And even so, the failure still happens a lot faster than it used to, and the failure points are in different places than they used to be.

I'm so pissed right now. I know that fabric has been declining in quality for a while but I just bought new pajamas from kmart and they are literally see through. Not just through one layer of fabric either; I can see through the leg, that is, through 2 layers of fabric. These aren't clothes. I am not exaggerating when I say that I have strained soup through cheesecloth thicker than these pants. These are men's flannel pajamas, the kind people wear in winter, and they are made if shittier thinner fabric than even the most bargain bin bullshit halloween costumes. This "flannel" feels like plastic and is thinner than a chux wipe. Why is this even for sale.

[saintverse]

my relatively old sidiego ice age fanart

[starflungwaddledee]

which ocs in the fandom do you find the most interesting? also, which ocs do you think have the most aesthetically pleasing designs? finally, which ocs have you only heard of but would like to know more about?

ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh nooooooo ha haaa noooo i can't possibly answer this because it would be soooo unfair to have favourites wouldn't it's comet knight by @kittenvirus

[liquidstar]

I'm working on my next oc set rn (as always) and this one is going to be the first, like, trinary guild to have more than 8 characters on account of twins sharing a spot lol

[neverendingford]

.

[nonasuch]

Miss Universe National Costume 2024, Part 2!

Splitting this off into a new post so I'm not clogging up everyone's dash quite as much.

Miss Malta is some sort of environmental protection Sailor Scout. I think the giant bow would look better on the back of the skirt but otherwise this is solid.

It has just come to my attention that I skipped over Miss Albania and several other A/B countries, back at the beginning. I sincerely apologize! She went to all this trouble putting together a Fifth Element cruise ship passenger costume, and I nearly missed it.

Miss Armenia, in what even I have to admit would be a legit Princess Leia fit.

Miss Bahrain, adding some green to her Gold And Vaguely Historical look, along with what is either a comically large prop chalice or an upside-down lamp.

Miss Bangladesh appears to believe that adding two plush tigers from the toy store around the corner from the pageant venue will conceal the fact that she is just wearing a tiger-print evening dress. Miss Bangladesh is incorrect.

Miss Belgium. Girl. No.

Miss Belize let the seventh-grade art class do her whole costume, which was a bold choice.

Okay, I think that's everyone I missed! Back to alphabetical order. And I should have to rely less on shitty screenshots, now. Some countries were benefiting from the low resolution, tbh.

Kind of feel like Miss Maldives had a luggage mishap and she's just wearing the outfit she packed for a slightly dressy dinner.

Miss Martinique's costume would honestly have looked better in the shitty screencap version. The construction is... bad. It's bad.

Feel like we're in a little bit of slump here. Miss Mauritius did not stick enough butterfly appliqués to her gown to conceal that it is, in fact, just a regular evening gown.

Slump officially over! We are so back. Everyone say thank you, Miss Mexico.

I would like this better if it had just committed to the giant skirt and not felt the need to make it a Sexy Miniskirt look. Sorry, Miss Moldova.

Miss Mongolia wanted to stand out from all the other gold armor on stage, so she decided to a) wear cooler armor and b) bring a bow and arrow instead of a sword. Great work, Miss Mongolia.

Starting to feel like I'm picking on the smaller countries that probably don't have a huge pageant culture or the budget for really elaborate costumes, but on the other hand Miss Montenegro's costume is super low-effort AND the fabrics look cheap, so what am I supposed to do?

Okay, this looks like a pretty standard Miss Universe Sexy Bird, yes? Well, THIS is how Miss Myanmar entered the stage:

She had to fight her way out of that thing! God only knows what the visibility was like in there.

I think the hat is doing most of the heavy lifting to keep Miss Namibia's costume from being Just An Evening Dress, sadly.

Oh, yikes. It's more obvious in motion but Miss Nepal's bodice looks like it's made of craft foam and it fits real weird. The rest of it looks a little like she got together with Miss Cyprus and a pile of tablecloths for a sewing bee last night, I'm sorry to say.

Miss Netherlands has chosen a Tribute to Delft. I think if I were in charge of this costume I would do a much fuller skirt that falls from the waist, instead of the weird trumpet-skirt-with-hoop we've got here. And, obviously, I would make the windmill on the bodice actually spin.

It looks like she's having some issues keeping the wings and peplum in place, but I really like Miss New Zealand's costume from a design perspective. It at least slightly resembles the bird it's supposed to be (New Zealand fantail) and I think the feather pattern is meant to be in a Maori art style.

Miss Nicaragua is a Sexy Cathedral, which I think might be a Miss Universe first and is definitely a big old step closer to drag.

Okay, pausing here to get the next batch ready.

[sebscore]

ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?

pairings: f1 grid x driver!reader (she/her pronouns)

warnings: angst. angst. angst. swearing. like a lot of swearing. i cannot write crashes/contact for the life of me. argument. lando and reader are assholes in this. 

author's note: dont even ask me why i wrote this, i got inspired and needed it out of my system. lol. 

masterlist

''Retire the car. Too much damage. Sorry, Y/N.'' Marco informed her over the radio, sounding frustrated and apologetic over her already finished race. 

The driver took a deep breath before answering. ''Too bad, it was going well. Thanks, guys.'' 

Her race had in fact been going well. She'd made a great start going from P4 to P2, and had managed to keep up with the Red Bull of Max. They weren't even halfway in the race or Lando tried overtaking her, causing contact, causing her to run off in the gravel with too much trouble on the car to continue. 

In her opinion, it had been reckless. The McLaren driver knew exactly she would end up being forced off the track by the overtake, and that her race would most likely be over because of it. 

As she trudged back to the garage, helmet in hand, she could barely contain her frustration. The team greeted her with sympathetic looks, but she didn't stop to talk to anyone. She headed straight for her driver's room, needing a moment to cool off before she could face the media. 

Her hands trembled with anger as she peeled off her gloves, tossing them onto a nearby chair. The season hadn't been going how she had hoped or even expected it to go. Last year she had been the vice World Champion, the undisputed second-best driver on the grid, the only one to essentially have been able to challenge Max's dominance. Now, she got lucky to even end up in the top five of a race. Her team's design of the car hadn't been meeting the expectations the engineers had set, and upgrades weren't helping in the way they had hoped. 

That is why this race weekend had been a great boost for the team's morale and confidence. Qualifying had gone really well, and for a moment they were able to fight for the win even. But the papaya car of No. 4 had shoved their hopes down the drain. 

Minutes later, there was a knock on the door. She turned to see Marco standing there, looking concerned. ''You okay?'' 

''Have I ever been okay,'' she remarked, a sarcastic chuckle leaving her lips. ''I'm just pissed, that's all. I had high hopes for today.'' 

''We all did,'' he smiled sadly. ''The stewards reviewed the incident, but he, uh, didn't get a penalty.'' He said softly, almost as if he was afraid of her reaction.

The young woman let out a bitter laugh. ''Of course he didn't, why would he?'' Her hands covered her face, briefly wiping off the sweat that had formed. 

Marco took a step closer, his expression a mix of empathy and disappointment. ''You drove brilliantly out there. Everyone saw it. The team saw it. It's just... racing politics sometimes.'' 

She dropped her hands, meeting his eyes with a mixture of anger and resignation. ''It's always like that, though. It's always the same drivers suffering the consequences of others, and they don't get shit for it. It is fucking annoying.'' 

Her engineer nodded, understanding everything she was saying. ''I know, we all know. But we keep fighting. We keep pushing. This season isn't over yet.'' 

''Yeah, true.'' She sighed. 

Marco gave her a reassuring smile. ''We'll be ready for the next race. We're all in this together, okay? We're all behind you.'' 

She nodded, feeling a small measure of comfort in his words. ''Thanks, I appreciate it.'' They shared a quick embrace, before he left to join the team again. Meanwhile she got herself ready to go to the media pen. As much as she wanted to hide away, she knew it was part of the job. 

Since she had an early exit, there wasn't much activity inside the area, though there were a bunch of reporters waiting for her. 

''Y/N, tough race today. Can you tell us what happened from your perspective?'' The reporter asked after briefly greeting her. 

''Yeah, it was, uh, challenging, I guess,'' she plastered a smile on her face. ''We had a great start, moving up to P2 and keeping pace with Max. Then, yeah, the contact with Lando. The car had a bunch of damage, and we decided to just retire the car.'' 

''Do you think it was a fair move by him?'' He followed up. 

She paused, weighing her response. ''Racing is always intense, especially at this level. I don't think it was the right move to make, but the stewards saw it as a racing incident.  I'll respect their decision, but it doesn't make it any less frustrating.'' 

''You and Lando are good friends, and have been racing against each other since your karting days. Will you talk to him afterwards or just forget about it?'' 

They had expected a question like this, so the media-trained answer came out very quickly. ''It was deemed a racing incident, so there is not much to say further about it.'' 

''How do you and your team plan to bounce back from this setback?'' The reporter for Sky Sports changed the topic. 

''We'll regroup and come back stronger,'' she answered, injecting as much determination into her voice as she could muster. ''This season has been tough, but my team and I are committed to pushing forward. We learn from every race, and today is no different.'' 

''That's great, thank you, Y/N.'' They wrapped up the interview, and she moved onto a new one. 

Once she had spoken to everyone she needed to speak to, she finally had a moment to herself. She knew the words she had just spoken were the right ones, but they did little to soothe the turmoil inside her. 

It didn't help that Lando managed to take the lead, and eventually get his first win. As she watched the remainder of the race from the sidelines, her emotions were all over the place. On the one hand, she was proud of her friend for finally making his dream come true. However, it had come at the expense of her race. She had pushed so hard this season, and to see her friend and rival celebrate his triumph while she stood there with nothing but frustration was almost unbearable. 

The cheers from the McLaren garage echoed in her ears. They celebrated wildly, the joy of his long-awaited victory palpable even from a distance. He was swarmed by his team as they shouted his name. 

The podium ceremony was even worse. As Lando stood on the top step, the British national anthem playing in the background, she couldn't help but replay the moment that had ended her race. She could see the excitement in his eyes, the genuine happiness that came with achieving a lifelong dream. But all she could think about was the contact, the gravel trap, and the wrecked potential of what could have been her race. 

Under any other circumstance, she would have been there for him. She would have run to the ceremony herself, just like he had done for her when she got her first win in F1 and made history as the first woman to do so. But it just stung too deep. 

''Lando, there was an incident with Y/N that resulted in her retiring from the race. Can you tell us what happened there?'' The Dutch reporter asked the race winner. 

Lando's expression shifted slightly, the euphoria dimming just a bit. ''Uh, yeah. I saw a gap and went for it. It was a tight move, and unfortunately, it led to some contact. But that's racing, you know.'' 

''Have you spoken to her yet?'' 

''Not yet,'' he admitted. ''But I don't think there is much to talk about.'' He chuckled, quickly glancing sideways, but his laugh seemed forced.

''She told Sky Sports that she didn't think you made the right move there.'' The journalist said, instigating a headline for them to be able to use. 

Lando frowned at his words, but recovered. ''Well, that's her opinion. It was just racing for me.'' 

''So you don't regret making the move?'' The reporter pressed on. 

The Brit took a deep breath before answering. ''I regret that it ended her race. But as a racer, you have to take chances. It's a fine line, you know.''

The older man in front of him nodded at his response, knowing they had gotten a glimpse of the tension that was present between the fan-favorite duo. ''Thank you, Lando. Congratulations again.'' 

''Thank you.'' 

With that, the interview wrapped up, and Lando moved onto the next reporter. As he walked away, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease. He didn't think he had done anything wrong, so why was everyone talking to him as if he had done something wrong? 

Y/N was struggling to unwind. The events of the day played over and over in her mind, each replay more frustrating than the last. She tried to distract herself by either watching some TikToks or TV, but nothing could drown out her thoughts. The texts from her friends, family and team certainly didn't help. It was a nice gesture, but she didn't want to think about the race anymore and the messages weren't helping. Finally, she decided to call it a night and climbed into bed, hoping sleep would offer some respite. 

Just as she was starting to drift off, another knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. It was unusual for someone to bother her this late, especially when she was winding down in her hotel room.

She frowned and got out of bed, opening the door to find Lando standing there, wearing his signature grin, acting nonchalant as ever. ''You wanna come celebrate with us? We rented a club.'' 

Y/N frowned at him, confused over his casual behavior. ''No.'' She scoffed, offended by the mere thought. 

It was now Lando's turn to frown at his friend. ''Why?'' 

She crossed her arms, incredulous at his obliviousness. ''Why? Are you taking the fucking piss out of me or something.'' 

His grin faltered slightly, but he tried to maintain his composure. ''If this is about the racing incident then you're being ridiculous.'' 

Her eyes widened in disbelief, her frustration boiling over. ''I am being ridiculous? You were ridiculous with that move you pulled!'' She retorted, raising her voice. ''You ran me off the track knowing how hard this season has fucking been for me. You know how much I needed a good result today and you ruined it for me!'' 

''Y/N, I get that you're upset, but it's racing. These things are bound to happen. I saw a gap and I went for it. The stewards didn't even penalize me, so clearly, it wasn't as bad as you're making it out to be.'' He was restraining from rolling his eyes, she could tell. 

She scoffed, shaking her head. ''Oh, so now you're agreeing with the stewards? Now that it is benefitting you? And there was no fucking gap, you were just being selfish. You knew what you were doing, and you didn't care how it would affect me.'' 

Lando's face hardened, his patience wearing thin. ''I didn't do it on purpose to screw you over, where the fuck are you getting that from? I saw an opportunity, and I took it. That's what we do out there. You know that better than anyone." 

''If that opportunity was ruining my fucking race, then yeah, you really took the opportunity, Norris.'' She rolled her eyes, voice tinged with sarcasm. 

He took a step closer, his frustration now matching hers. ''I'm sorry that you didn't get the result you wanted today, I really am. But I am not going to apologize for racing and doing my job, Y/N.'' 

She simply glared at him, disappointed in how he was acting towards her. They'd never really had an argument before, at least not one where they couldn't see each other's point. They'd been frustrated with each other before, but it was always in reason. 

''If anything, I should be angry with you- not the other way.'' Lando suddenly said. 

''Why's that?'' She sneered, almost in disbelief that he would have a valid reason. 

''Because you didn't even have the fucking guts to congratulate me,'' he snapped back, ''when you won Silverstone, I was literally one of the first people to hug you and congratulate you for your win. I stood next to your fucking parents, Y/N! And today you didn't even bother doing anything.'' 

Her mouth fell open, a mix of shock and anger flooding her veins. ''You are unbelievable… You ruined my fucking race, Lando! How am I supposed to stand there and cheer for you when you cost me everything today?'' 

He rolled his eyes while throwing up his hands. ''This isn't just about today. You're just jealous because my season has been going so much better than yours. You can't fucking stand that for one time I'm doing actually better than you.'' 

''Jealous… of you?'' The words came out like laughter, slightly hurting the McLaren driver's ego. ''You think I can't be happy for you because I'm not doing as well? That's so low, Lando.'' 

''Ever since the start of the season you've been so moody and distant, and now you can't even say or even fucking text me a congratulations for my first win. You're so pissed that I got a win before you this season, you can't even hide it.'' He shot back. 

''Oh, give me a break. Like you wouldn't act the same if you were getting all these shit results. Maybe I didn't congratulate you because I was too busy trying to scrape gravel out of my fucking tires.'' She remarked, throwing in the sarcastic comment. 

Lando looked unimpressed by her remark. ''You're just mad cause I'm outshining you. You can't fucking stand that I'm getting all the attention.'' 

''Outshining me? Are you hearing yourself?'' She mocked him, laughing bitterly. ''You get one win and you're acting like you're a fucking World Champion already. You've been riding Max's dick these last years hoping some of his success will rub off on you. Newsflash Norris, everyone is just fucking laughing at you.'' 

His face turned red, either embarrassment or anger. ''At least I'm not constantly whining about my car and blaming everyone else for my problems. Maybe if you spent more time focusing on your driving and less on complaining, you'd have more to celebrate.'' 

''You're a fucking spoiled brat who can't stand some competition. You think everything should be handed to you on a silver platter.'' She retorted. 

''And you're a fucking baby who throws a temper tantrum everytime you don't get what you want. It's time to fucking grow up, Y/N!'' He shouted, his voice rising with each word. 

She took a step closer to him. ''You should spend less time trying to prove yourself to people who don't give a shit about you, and more time trying to be a decent fucking human being. I'm ashamed to call you one of my best friends.'' 

That last sentence had clearly hit a nerve or several nerves. He shook his head, taking a few steps back. ''Fuck you, Y/N. Enjoy your pity party.'' Lando turned and walked away, joining his friends who were waiting in the lobby. 

She watched him go, her chest heaving with a mix of anger and heartbreak. She could feel the pulse of her racing heart, the adrenaline from their argument making her feel jittery and unsteady. 

A lump formed in her throat as she replayed the last few minutes in her mind. She cringed internally at the words she had fired at Lando, while also trying to ignore the sting from his own harsh words. She wondered how they would be able to come back from this. They had never been in a situation like this before, and she knew that she would never want to be in this situation again. 

The young woman knew that she had let her emotions get the best of her. She had always prided herself on being fair and understanding, but now she felt ashamed of herself. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of another door opening. George peeked out, concern etched on his face. ''Y/N, you okay?'' 

She shook her head, not wanting to deal with anyone else. ''Mind your business, Russell.'' She retreated back into her room, not before slamming the door behind her. 

As she leaned against the closed door, the weight of the evening pressed down on her. The room felt too small, her emotions too big. She slid down to the floor, pulling her knees to her chest, and let the tears she had been holding back finally fall.

Even when she finally got up, even when she tucked herself in again for the final time, and even when she tossed and turned the entire night, the same question lingered in her mind. 

Are they still friends? 

The question haunted her, gnawing at her thoughts every time she closed her eyes. She replayed the argument over and over, dissecting every word, every expression. The hurt in his eyes, the anger in his voice- it all felt so raw and irreversible. 

As the hours dragged on, sleep remained elusive. The darkness of the room mirrored the uncertainty in her heart. She knew they both needed time to cool off, to reflect, but the thought of facing Lando again filled her with dread.

The first light of dawn began to seep through the curtains, and she felt no more at ease than she had the night before. 

Are they still friends? 

story ideas are always welcome, but remember that it can take a while for me to get to it! :)

[yueebby]

all mine — gojo satoru

synopsis. It’s the exchange event and gojo doesn’t like how that kyoto boy is looking at you. 

contents.  fluff, jealous!gojo, minor male oc, loosely based on that one jujutsu scroll, satoru is really insufferable and problematic but in his defense he is lovesick

gojo satoru is seething. he knows that you’re good looking, but he doesn’t need the entire world to know that either. if it were up to him, your beauty would be for his eyes only. 

especially not that kyoto third year who has been eyeing you since your arrival.

it was sickening, really. and to add salt to the wound, you have been oblivious to it all. one moment, gojo has his arms draped around your shoulders, and in the blink of an eye, you were being whisked away by that third year.

“please don’t do what i think you're trying to do,” shoko’s unamused voice breaks his train of thought. her knowing gaze made gojo chuckle.

“who, me? why do you assume i’m plotting something?” gojo feigns innocence, hoping his friend couldn’t sense the vicious wave of cursed energy that was leaking out of him. 

shoko doesn’t bother telling him that his usual sky blue eyes were darker, clouded with annoyance or whatever angsty emotion he was dealing with. suguru snorts at his best friend’s silent torment.

“he’s kinda cute,” shoko places a hand on her hip while she observes you conversing with the brown haired third year from kyoto. he was probably a clan kid, judging by his traditional kimono design for a uniform. “you think [name]’s into him?” she eggs gojo on with a smirk on her lips. 

suguru bumps his shoulder against hers as a silent warning.

it takes a moment for satoru to process shoko’s conclusion, the realization evident on his face as his eyes slowly widened. 

“like hell she is.” satoru’s fist clench and he thinks that he will explode if you keep entertaining that stupid kyoto boy. why waste your time with a weakling, when satoru, who was much worthier of your attention was standing just a couple of meters away in the same courtyard? satoru glares at you from above his glasses, hoping you can feel just an ounce of the anger he feels. 

you don’t. 

he thinks he dies a little bit on the inside. in fact, he thinks you’re purposefully messing with his mind with the way you playfully smack the kyoto boy��s shoulder with the same soft hand that gojo has dreamed of holding since his first year. 

“stop being dramatic and let's warm up. we have team battles today.” annoyance is evident in suguru’s voice. yaga had warned the duo that if either of them acted up during the exchange event, the consequences would be dire.

“dramatic?” he scoffs, his glare not wavering. “she has the audacity to look beautiful in the presence of other men. she’s doing this on purpose.” his arms are crossed now.

exasperated looks are exchanged by his two friends.

screw whatever yaga said. without wasting another moment, satoru forced his way in your direction, ignoring suguru's attempt to stop him. shoko, however, held suguru back. "don't," she said, her eyes fixed on gojo. "i want to see what this idiot will do."

suguru sighed, acknowledging that gojo deserved whatever was coming his way.

you realize that perhaps you are too lenient with gojo satoru. you have forgiven every stunt he has pulled, but the look on his face right now as he approaches you with a wide grin makes you sense that might end now.

“wifey!” he closes the space between you. you furrow your eyebrows at the unfamiliar pet name. “how could you leave me for some kyoto scum?” 

you choke on air at his blatant insult to the boy in front of you. 

“ah, i apologize, i couldn’t help myself but steal her when i saw her. i’m ishikawa daisuke–”

“what a bold statement to say to her husband!” gojo doesn’t spare ishikawa a second glance, choosing to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. too shocked to move, you let gojo relish in the intimate action. 

you’re equally as surprised as ishikawa at satoru’s declaration, a strangled noise escaping from your mouth. the idea of gojo as your husband… it was enough to make your brain short circuit. where did he even get the idea from?

ishikawa’s eyes are blown wide, any semblance of self confidence thrown out of the window,  “i-i apologize for the misunderstanding. i wasn’t aware you were already married so young.” he stutters, bowing deeply to gojo who is smirking with a hand on his hip. 

“damn right we are. i knew i had to tie the knot with this beauty the moment i met her.” satoru proudly exclaims, his gaze softening when it returns on you. the initial shock is starting to wear off and you are shooting gojo your harshest glare. satoru’s antics seem to never end.

“isn’t my wifey the cutest?” he coos down at you, tapping your nose with a single finger. you are tempted to bite it off. 

“gojo satoru, you are the most insufferable man that i know,” you point at his chest angrily. “the most delusional too.” you mutter.

 he places a pained hand to his chest,  “you know other men? you’re killing me sweetheart.”

ishikawa coughs awkwardly, reminding you of his presence. you give him your best sympathetic look.

satoru, annoyed that your attention is off of him once again narrowed his eyes at the brown haired boy, “shouldn’t you be practicing with the rest of the kyoto weaklings? i recommend you to do so if you don’t want to be killed on the battlefield today.” satoru’s voice is an octave lower. 

“satoru!” you’re startled by his indirect threat, quick to defend your senior who looked like he was moments away from pissing his pants. 

“i-if you will excuse me.” ishikawa bows deeply once again before scurrying away without another word. you watch him hopelessly. the moment ishikawa is gone, satoru’s intimidating aura is replaced with a pout as he crosses his arms bitterly. 

“if you wanted my attention you could’ve just asked.” satoru exhales forcefully with a hmph. his arms are still crossed and if it weren’t for the fact that he had acted utterly out of line, you would almost go as far as calling him cute. 

“excuse me?”

“you were trying to get my attention,” he points out. “you don’t have to y’know.” my eyes are always on you. the words die on his lips.

a scoff leaves your mouth, disbelief is evident on your face, “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“you do!”

“are you jealous or something?” the idea that the great gojo satoru was sick with envy amused a cruel part inside of you.

“who? me? what could that country bumpkin have that i don’t?” he sounds almost offended at your accusation. 

“he’s nice.”

“i can be nice!" satoru whines. there is desperation in his eyes. "i bought a can of tuna for that stray cat the other week, remember?”

“yeah, but he’s nice to people. he’s also polite and-”

“alright i get it! you don’t have to keep talking about him.” satoru's eyebrows furrow in sync with the way his bottom lip slightly juts out. “i just didn’t like how he looked at you.”

“and how did he look at me?” 

satoru grumbles. was it not obvious enough? “his gaze was devouring you like you were his or something. honestly, what a loser. he’ll have to get in line.”

frustration laces your words as you challenge him, “you can’t just march around scaring off all of the guys that i talk to. i want you to admit that you were jealous."

satoru's jaw drops.

"you can't be serious." he protests, cerulean eyes widening. "i'm starting to think you like torturing me." you smile at his comment. you were indeed doing this on purpose.

"oh but i am completely serious," you reply with faux innocence, eyes blinking at him. “satoru.” you enunciate each syllable of his name, dealing the finishing blow.

he folds. you were being so unfair.

"i was jealous." he confesses petulantly. your grin widens as he admits his jealousy. the victory, however, is short-lived as satoru seizes the opportunity to sneak in another flirty comment. “it’s not my fault my dream girl happens to be everyone else’s.”

a groan escapes your lips, and you take your hand, lightly flicking his forehead. satoru accepts the physical contact happily.

"when will you give this bit up?" you retort, raising an eyebrow. 

“when i finally put a ring on that finger,” satoru winks. you regard his words with skepticism, oblivious to the fact that he was dead set on it.  gojo satoru was going to make you his, or at least die trying.

remember spring days masterlist

extra notes:

prior to the exchange event, utahime actually warned ishikawa that you were off limits. she didn’t elaborate why.

poor ishikawa seemed to be the target of most of satoru’s attacks during the team battle.

tokyo won the event by an overwhelming amount.

“i deserve victory kisses for carrying tokyo to victory, right [name]?” satoru had teased you on the way home.

you pretend to think about it, “hmm i think suguru’s curses were quite helpful. he’s the one that deserves the kisses.”

satoru had never moved faster in his entire life to cover your mouth with the palm of his hand and whisk you away from his best friend who had joined in your joke.

[mybelovedvi]

nsfw. tattooist!vi x f!reader. cw: pwp, dom!vi, fingering (r!receiving), secondhand embarrassment, masochism, dacryphilia if you squint, squirting, unprofessional conduct, bad hygiene practices. wc: 1.7k

the bell on top of the door jingles with your entrance. the parlour smells like a mix of cedarwood, vanilla and antiseptics- just what you'd expect from an antique-looking tattoo studio. the guy at the front desk looks up and smiles.

"hey there, name's ekko. got an appointment today?"

"hi! no i haven't, just saw a 'walk-ins welcome' sign outside. is that okay?" you give a small grin, a little jittery from your impulsive decision.

"that's absolutely fine. take a seat and fill this out f'me." he nods before ducking up some stairs. heavy rock plays softly over the speakers and you begin going through the few pages of personal and medical info.

after a couple minutes, you hear footsteps heading your way. you stand with the clipboard and see a woman with dark pink hair, about 5"8, in cargos and a tank walking towards you.

"hey doll, i'm vi. i'll be tattooing you today."

hell, is it just you or is it getting hotter in here?

"hey, thanks for squeezing me in. here, i've filled out the forms," you extend the clipboard to vi and she gives it a once-over.

"did you have a design in mind?" she queries.

"no... i kind of came in here impulsively, wanted to try something new, y'know?" you shy away from her gaze and fiddle with your fingers. her eyes are fixated on you, every movement of your body.

"you're alright, cherry. why don't you come on back and we'll figure something out together?"

you nod but question the nickname. "cherry?"

"you've got a cherry charm on your bag, your phone too. i'm assuming you like 'em?" vi says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. you look down and back up at her, giggling a little.

"oh, yeah, they're my favourite."

"good to know. c'mon, follow me,"

you follow vi up the stairs, to a smaller studio than the one below. seems like this is her private workplace, nothing in the room but the bed, a swivel chair, a trolley with some equipment, a couch, and a shelf displaying artworks and vinyls.

"why don't you look through this book and see if there's anything you like? i'm happy to draw somethin' up for you too," vi says, manspreading on the couch and giving the space next to her a pat. you sit and and flip through the book. her works are intricate, displaying a variety of art styles in both colour and black-and-white. your eyes are caught by a beautiful design, a little larger than what you wanted for your first tattoo, but beautiful and unique nonetheless.

"i love this one, i'd like to get this tatted if that's okay?" you turn the large folder towards vi, only to find her eyes already trained on your face.

"mhm, that's one of my favourites, let me print it out for you. where did you want it?" vi stands and heads over to her trolley.

"i'm not sure... this will be my first tattoo, so where does it hurt the least?" you question.

"your first? damn, usually i'd recommend something a bit smaller, but you can handle it, right?" vi smirks at you whilst tapping on her ipad. "as for placement, i'd say your arms would hurt the least. upper back if you're feeling adventurous. or... your outer hips." she trails off a little.

"hm, okay. i think the design might be too big for my arms, and i don't really want it on my back. let's go with my hips?" as you're busy considering the placement of your tattoo and how much pain you might (will) be in, you fail to notice the tips of vi's ears turning pink.

"sure thing, cherry. i'm ready when you are." vi's got the design printed out, a few sheets of paper of different sizes in her hand. you look at her, all thoughts gone for a second as you wait for further instructions. she looks back at you, wondering why you're not taking off your shorts so she can stick the stencil on you.

"um...?"

vi lets out a breathy laugh. "i know i should probably take you out to dinner before i ask this, but mind pulling your shorts down? so i can put the stencil on?"

your face flushes red as you realise that's what you were supposed to do, but also is she flirting with you? or is that how she is with all her clients?

"oh sorry! here, sorry!" you scramble to take your shorts off, not giving vi a second to turn around to give you some privacy. as you stand in the middle of her little studio, only in your baby tee and lace panties, both your faces grow redder- you because of embarrassment, and her because she didn't expect you to take your shorts off.

"sorry! okay, you can put the stencil on now, sorry,"

"stop apologising cherry, nothin' to be sorry for," vi shakes her head and laughs again, before kneeling before you and getting everything in order. she looks up.

"left or right, doll?"

"uhm! right, please..." you trip over your own words a little as you try to look anywhere but her light blue eyes through her lashes.

"alright, let's see..." with a gloved hand, she rubs cream over your hips, the coolness nearly sending a shiver through your legs. she sticks the stencil on smoothly and pats it down. "have a look in the mirror. you happy with that?" you turn towards the floor length mirror leaning against the opposite wall.

"it's perfect, thank you." you smile.

"amazing. let's get you on the bed and get started, yeah?" vi steps away to get a new pair of gloves as you lie down sideways "ready, cherry?" you nod. she's positioned against your lower back, but can you see her in the mirror getting her equipment ready.

"'let me know if it's too much, alright?" she applies more cream to the stenciled area before tattooing the first line through your flesh.

half and hour later, you're beginning to wish you'd gone with a smaller design. vi's not even halfway done and your thighs are already shaking a little with the pain, tears threatening to spill onto the pillow your head rests on.

"how're we doing, doll?" vi asks as she continues, right hand tracing the stenciled lines, her left gripping the flesh around your arched back. what's adding to the pain of the needles is vi changing her grip on you every few minutes, making heat pull around your core. each time her hands move closer to your clothed pussy, it sends a shudder through your whole body.

"yup, good!" you lie a little too enthusiastically. in the mirror, vi raises a brow and lifts the gun off your skin.

"you sure? i can see you're shakin' a little,"

"yup, no i'm good. please keep going," your almost-pleading voice nearly sucks all the air out of vi's lungs. she shakes her head in an attempt to concentrate on her work, and not on the way you're shaking, ass unconsciously pushing back into her chest; not your doe watery eyes and quivering lips in the mirror.

"if you're sure," vi resumes and you shake even harder. tears finally roll down your face, pooling near your ears, staining the pillow. the uncontrollable twitch in your thighs intensify and you attempt to get away from the needle by scootching back or wiggling your hips, making vi graze her forearm too close to your cunt in the process.

"you're gonna have to stop doing that, princess," vi grits, the nickname almost makes you gasp, the pain in your hips and the pressure in your core becoming too much.

"sorr- mmgh!" your slick spills out, soaking through your panties and coating your inner thighs. this doesn't go unnoticed by vi, who audibly sucks in a breath, turns off the gun and sets it aside.

"'m- 'm sorry vi," you whine in your aroused daze, still flush against her chest.

"doll..." vi pauses. "you're fine. let me clean you up, yeah?"

"wh- what?" you shift to look at her with widened teary eyes.

"i said, let me clean you up."

shivering, you feel a gloved hand inch up your inner thighs and stop at your soaked panties.

"tell me princess, what's got you so worked up?" her finger drags up and down your clothed slit, sending jolts of electricity through your flesh. you feel more of your juices seep out, and you know vi can feel it too.

"are you nervous?" she pulls your panties to the side, exposing you to the cold air.

"is it me?" vi pinches your clit. your back arches with a high-pitched whimper.

"or... do you just like writhing in pain?" without warning, two fingers dip inside you causing you to scootch up the bed and thighs clamp down on her hand.

"i wouldn't do that if i were you," vi whispers in your ear. her strong fingers dip in and out of you wildly, coming all the way out before slamming into you again. you wail and mewl as fat drops of tears stream down your face, babbling nonsense into the tear-stained pillow.

"y'look so pretty crying f'me, baby," with her free hand, vi grips your chin with an almost bruising force and lift your head to the direction of the mirror. "look at you, lookin' so fucked out when we just started."

she lets go and your upper body falls limp on the bed as she continues her assault on your pussy, fingers hitting that gummy spot over and over as you chant her name amongst a string of curses.

"fuck, fuck- vi! shit-" you throw your head back with a moan. feeling like your whole body is on fire, your core tightens.

"you can take another, can't you, doll?" vi purrs as she flips you on your back, her hot breath against your collarbone.

"wha-" the addition of a third finger nearly sends you screaming into oblivion. her thumb circles your clit whilst her other hand presses on your lower belly, making your thighs quiver and your lower back arch off the bed. everything is foggy, your eyes clouded with tears, your head filled with nothing but vi, vi, vi-

"too much! it's, mmf- too much vi!" you cry. it feels too good, you know you're going to come at any second, the rope in your stomach threatening to snap as you look up at the gorgeous woman hovering over you, panting and groaning as if she was fucking herself.

"shh, i know you can take it, cherry. you enjoying yourself?" vi asks, and when you respond with nothing but moans and incoherent blabbering, she slaps the side of your hip- the freshly tattooed side.

you come hard. with a scream, your eyes roll and your back comes completely off the bed. you're squirming, writhing, shaking in vi's hold as her fingers continue pumping in and out of you, fucking you through your orgasm. when you come down, she doesn't stop. not when you're full on sobbing, trying to push her hands away, clawing at her forearms, drawing blood and leaving crescent-shaped indents on her fair skin. a foreign feeling builds inside your bladder, and you scramble to free yourself from vi's grasp.

"shit! vi- ah! g'na, 'm g'na pee!"

"shh, just let it go princess," vi hushes and you become undone once again, her watching as your head is thrown back, milky cum leaking and clear liquids gushing out from your pussy, coating your thighs, her forearms and the bed.

"fuck, that's so hot," vi pull her fingers out of you, who's still a quivering and panting mess beneath her. you watch as she slurps up every last drop of your juices before she takes off her nitrile gloves with a snap! and drops it into the trash.

“you reckon you can keep going, princess?”

[malt-rants-and-stuff]

Something else that I saw another person say but

-> ignores the intent and immigrant-coding historically done with the superfam in favor of telling a queer story that doesn't make sense given the basis of kons actual (not TV-showified) character

like, I have Many thoughts about kon and his gender that I could go on about but as a queer trans person of color from an immigrant family I can say this would not have been a good choice to go with. even while ignoring the clear lack of understanding for kon's characterization its just so obvious she did not put in the work to see what his character even was to begin with and instead just invented her own yj show/newer comics-oc mix character with the name "Conner", who in this version would have been Constance, and called it a day.

To be clear I would love to see a prominent trans girl hero in current comics I think that would be wonderful. But. the way this would have gone down? The destruction of a character already so mischaracterized in mainstream circles, who I love so much, and the ignorace towards what the impact of this could have been? That's not good representation, that's just a narrative mess.

Magdalene Visaggio’s rejected proposal for Kon

[reshinless]

how about alhaitham fucking you on the couch, telling you to hush up in case kaveh comes home?

he asked you to come over to help decide on final designs for a few of his upcoming projects. but suddenly, the honest urge to have just taken you right then and there on the couch-

you didn't have to wear a skirt that short . . shit did you really wanna tease him like this? nasty girl.

he threw his head back as he worked himself inside your hole, erection only worsening, pants getting tighter and you were laid out in front of him on the couch.

"such a dirty slut. you didn't even wear panties? are you asking me to punish you? you could've just said so, brat." his digits scissored your hole, stretching your drooling cunt nice and wide before you take his dick.

he lands a rough kiss to your lips, crashing his own—chapped and hungry for your taste. the sound of his belt unbuckling never was unfamiliar, only turning you on more as you watched his phallus rise, taking a gulp nervously as you could already feel his tip teasing your entrance.

it's been almost 2 hours, and he kept going at it, your sticky hole felt warm, all the same. each time only adding more substance inside when you arch you back so your lover can hit that spot you just love so much so good.

"hnngh . . ! 'haitham annhh- fffuck I love y'r dick- nnhh-!" your loud whines he could only degrade for now, for wanting him to bend you over and fuck you over a dining table in public? of course he had to teach you first you couldn't have everything you want.

all of a sudden before the final brick of pleasure was about to be placed, alhaitham suddenly pulls out. "wha- haithammmm! please?" the tone of your voice made him and his cock eager to thrust inside you and make you all pretty n' sticky.. but he had to resist such a sight.

"been suuuch a damn good-looking brat today, you can't have it I'm afraid. what if someone else had seen this instead of me.. would you have wanted that, baby?" his tone filled with a pinch of sass, and the rest of his personality.

but who wouldn't be just a little.. possessive of you when you look so easy to just devour everything from your ears till your toes.

he shushed your cries, and pleads to make him cum inside. you know that he can't do that just yet, not until your wedding day. hmm, he definitely had to propose soon.

fat tears slowly start to run down your cheeks as alhaitham leaned in close, the previous mating press-like position you were put it now had one of your legs over his shoulder.

he started to kiss your tears away, he hated to see you cry, shit don't pull this trump card right now..

he starts to match his pace as to how a chef would cook their meals. fast, and efficient. he made no second wasted, performing small, hushed and hurried thrusts into you. a finger over your mouth to keep you down. he could hear a key jingle at the door of the home—it was his roommate kaveh.

but fuck was he so close to cumming too. he could see it through your velvety tongue that lolled out each time he grinded his angry, red tip against you g-spot.

before he knew it, he already pulled out to release, getting a few drops of his cum on your chest, over to your face. and damn would he be glad to lick it all off your body—but the door opens.

"i'm ho- OH WHAT THE FUCK—" the blond drops his things on the floor, mehrak quickly swiping them up onto its head as kaveh stands in shock.

[nationalanthcm]

Gold rush | Robb Stark

𝜗𝜚 "what must it be like to grow up that beautiful? with your hair falling into place like dominoes"

summary: robb loves spending his time simply admiring his wife. he just loves her so much, he can't help it. and now that she's pregnant with their firstborn...he wishes he could spend every second of his days with her

pairing: robb stark x pregnant!wife!reader

genre: fluff

side notes: english is not my native language, so i apologise in advance for any grammatical/spelling mistakes. if you find any error, feel free to correct me as long as you keep it respectful of course. this is my ever first piece of writing, so don't expect it to be a masterpiece lmao

"i see me padding 'cross your wooden floors, with my eagles t-shirt hanging from the door" 𝜗𝜚

The bright afternoon sunlight entered the room through the windows, bathing her in a soft, incandescent glow, making her almost like an angel designed by the Gods themselves. Robb has been standing there for quite a while, leaning against the doorway, simply staring at her as she read on the bed the two of them share.

This is something he often does, he usually finds himself admiring his wife from afar, simply staring at her as he wonders how she could be so beautiful, not only on the outside, but on the inside as well, and how he could've gotten so lucky that her heart chose to love him back.

Robb had known the woman that would eventually become his wife since he was young, he was about twelve when his eyes first laid on her. She had been padding around Winterfell, just outside the castle walls, her hands holding some sort of flower bouquet. It looked messy, and so did she, her dress was dirty with mud and her hair was a bit tangled, but he had been captivated by her nonetheless. He remembers that day as if it was yesterday, he remembers the way her cheeks got tinted with the lightest shade of pink when he spoke to her...he remembers it all as if it had been just yesterday. They both cherish that day a lot and often look back to it, as it was the day where their story started.

His wife's gentle voice snaps Robb out of his thoughts and his eyes refocus on her shape. She's staring at him, her book placed beside her, one of her hands pressed on the tiny bump in her belly. Robb can't help but smile at the sight. Gods, she really is beautiful. How could she be this beautiful? Robb really believes he could spend the rest of his day standing there, simply admiring the way she looks, even more so now that, on her belly, rests their firstborn, Robb's future heir. He also remembers the day she told him the news very clearly. He had been over the moon to find out they were expecting a baby.

"Forgive me, my love, I didn't notice you. How long have you been standing there? Not for too long, I hope." She says, sounding a little apologetic.

Robb's already walking up to the bed, settling down beside her, his body facing hers. Now that she's noticed him, he doesn't have to stand so far away, he can enjoy her presence from up close. He loves these moments before dinner, where he can relax after a long day of duties, simply enjoying the company of the woman he loves.

"Don't worry, beautiful, it hasn't been long and I was enjoying the sight of you as always." He answers, his tone equally soft, one of his large hands going to rest on top of her belly.

The girl only laughs quietly at his words, her head coming to rest on Robb's shoulder. She's aware of how much he likes to simply stare at her. She lost count of how many times she found her husband entranced by the sight of her, quietly watching her in the privacy of their chambers.

"How are you today? Has the little one been bothering you much?" Robb asks her after a beat of silence.

His wife can only smile at that, tilting her head to look up at him. She finds it endearing how he worries so much for her well being. She's only three months along in the pregnancy, the babe doesn't even move yet, but Robb always asks about her comfort, wanting to make sure she's as well as possible. They've both always been like that...always checking in on each other, making sure the other was okay, even back when they were younger and only shared a sweet, innocent friendship.

"I'm alright, my love, nothing's been too uncomfortable for now. I think it's far too early for that...my baby bump is barely even showing." She reassures, looking down at her belly.

Her baby bump is in fact barely noticeable, but it's there. Robb loves it, he loves to see the way her body is slowly changing, adapting to the small life that's growing inside. He didn't think it possible, but Robb finds himself loving her even more, because now she's not only his wife, but also the mother of his child.

"That's good, our little one is well behaved, doesn't make his mother suffer." Robb says jokingly, laughing quietly at his own joke. "Do you think it's a boy or a girl?"

Robb knows it's still too early to know that for certain the gender of the babe, but he finds himself wondering about that often and he's sure his wife does too. The maester says they'll be able to find out the gender soon enough.

"I don't know, I honestly have no idea. My mother says that some women have some sort of instinct but...I have no idea. I'm hoping it's a girl, though."

"A girl?" Robb wonders. When he wonders about it, Robb finds himself secretly wishing for a boy, but he'd also be fine with the babe being a little girl, of course. He just wants the pregnancy to go smoothly and for the babe to be healthy.

"Yes, just think about it...I'd be able to dress her up in the prettiest gowns, braid her hair..." His wife rambles, her voice filled with affection.

Robb can picture her words clearly in his mind. It's an endearing thought...to picture his wife tending to their young daughter. That thought alone almost makes him change his mind fully and solely wish for a girl.

"...I'd also be fine with a boy, of course...though I suppose he'd spend more time with you, training with swords and all..." She continues.

That brings a smile to Robb's face. He'd love that, to have a son to spend time with, to train him and teach him everything his own father taught him.

"What about you? Boy or girl?" His wife asks him, now staring up at him again.

"I'm fine with either of the two, but I've been hoping it's a boy."

She hums in acknowledgment to his words, her body resting against his. A comfortable silence falls upon the two of them and she picks up her book. Reading has always been her favourite thing to do, according to her own words. Robb goes back to doing one of his favourite things as well. He admires her quietly, watching the way her brows furrow in concentration. Once again, he finds himself thanking the Gods for sending him such a blessing. He has a beautiful, gentle wife and a child on the way...life couldn't be sweeter.

[obj4soul]

Women's clothing sucks. And I now firmly believe that one of the reason women are more obsessed about their weight is because of clothing. Growing up I mostly wore mens/boys clothing and I never had to think about size, waist, etc. The clothes won't hug my thighs in the sense that would make me conscious of them while moving. If the waist was too big id grab a belt. Plus the design of pants and tshirts was pretty standard.

Now during my late teens, early twenties i started going towards more women's clothing. Because i felt I had to look more feminine. And HOLY SHIT. It sucked. BAD. First the material. Its so bad and thin and cost more than guys clothes. No standard Tshirt fit, everything has a different shoulder to chest ratio. The pants are either too tight, hug your ass and thighs too much or are too baggy to be comfortable. And the waist. Holy shit. Ive been underweight till I was 23 (medical reasons). And I didnt have a lot of problem with the waist thing then (see where this is going) but the moment I kicked my illness and gained weight and got into normal weight range, dude the waist thing became a big issue. FIRST of all. For guys the waist end at waist, the hip bone area. Not for women. Most clothes go above the hip bones, some even over the belly button. If the thing feels right standing up, youll suffocate sitting down. And even if its elastic waistband, its sitting on your stomach, it does not have a bone to support it and it feels uncomfortable. (Maybe I have some sensory issue, I don't know about yall but I dont like being conscious of clothes sticking to my body). And now to the main point. I never had any issue with waist being uncomfortable when I was underweight or when I wear boys pants (really pants made for boys get more humanly consideration than women) and the moment i got into normal range, the womens pants saying they are my waist size fit pretty snug and tight around my waist, ass and thighs. But still till this day I never face this issue with my boys pants. Today while trying on some pants that my mom gifted me that said their waist was a size bigger than mine I found then uncomfortable and started thinking should I lose some weight? And that fucking blew my mind because I am already thin and in a pretty normal range of BMI. Those clothes feel comfortable as long as you are underweight. That is insane. Seriously. Ladies if this the case with you all. Or maybe some of you. Ditch the women's section. If you are short like me, go for the boys section or else mens. These fucking clothing sizes and designs are not made thinking of your comfort in mind. Now im gonna go to the store and exchange the pants for some boys khaki pants.

I think this is just one face of how the system is designed to make you feel uncomfortable and doubt yourself. You see how much waist room guys get? We are the same species after all. What the fuck. Do you make different size clothing for male and female cats or monkeys? No fucking other species have such a wide difference in body shape than what humans are told we have.

[rose-maidenn]

Astro observations 1

Tropical + Sidereal

Tropical

If you have mercury sextile venus as a women your voice gives you an upper hand in your career , example Sofia Vergara being famous for her acting as well as her unique voice , lana del rey for her vocal range , Rihanna , Kim Kardashian memes lol .

If as a man you have mercury sextile venus it shows up as an upper hand in your thoughts and creativity , often times men with this placement are very soft spoken and understanding , in a dark way they could be manipulative as well . They mostly create a world of wonders for themselves and have distinct contributions towards art or way of life . Eg : Walt Disney , Ewan Mcgregor in big fish

Scorpio men give high school bad boy vibes , their upper body might be larger then their lower body , fellas don't skip leg day

Wanna start content creation or wanna be a singer , check your moon sign , a popstar might become popular based on the emphasis on either vocal range, lyricism, performance (credits to the instagram reel i watched lol i lost the link ) eg : scorpio women embody the performer persona most strongly , for example: Beyonce , Miley Cyrus , Lady gaga etc (vedic - Vishakha)

Cancer sun women mostly embody the trashy girl aesthetic.

Though widely considered meek , the cancer sun embodies a badass feministic yet kind vibe to them eg : Princess Diana , Selena Gomez , MIA, Frida Kahlo , often turn out to be revolutionaries and make changes in their own fields .

Pluto in the 5th is an amazing placement for fashion designers or in the field of marketing in the field , eg: Coco chanel , Miuccia Prada , Donatella Versace etc . 5th is the house of creativity and pluto being in it bring something out of the ordinary to make the person famous.

Pluto in 5th might also suffer from a turbulent childhood often with home relocation or absent parents

Mercury in 9th might be forced to grow up earlier , these people embody wisdom beyond years, often time resulting in void eg : Drew Barrymore, Mila Kunis lying about her age to get roles , Brooke shields .

Mercury in 9th is also a good placement for writers, eg : Sylvia plath , Agatha Christie, Emily Bronte .

Sidereal

Purva Bhadrapada women are very activist and stand for what they believe in , they make really good points in an debate👏

Punarvasu sun will give you fuller lips . Mostly downturned

Gemini men often have a wild chemistry with Sagittarius men 😭😂 the gemini man either admires the Sagittarius or hates them , like a frenemy vibe .

Libra men have the rake energy they flirt with everyone but they also make you feel like you're the only girl 😭 tf

Moon conjunct Saturn is said to give a bad relationship with mother but I have observed that if it is in the 12 th house it actually gives a good relationship, as there's more understanding .

As a jupiterian myself I won't advise to dye your hair blonde if you have prominent jupiter ,it makes me even more delusional. I would recommend brown for grounding and inviting creativity in your life .

Idk mars dom men are too good to me I like them so much, I've seen that in other cases as well so I will say jup dom 🤝 mars dom.

Rahu doms are underdogs yall , mostly people underestimate them until one day they put all their energy into something and prove themselves .

Uttara Ashadha girls act as they're stupid but they're observing so much , they might have really captivating eyes , puppy eyes if I say .

If two people have asc-moon synastry , they love each other and loathe each other because of their similarities , their is also a tendency of copying the others gestures or fashion .

Ketu doms push people away and then say they're lonely , it takes a lot to understand the inner rich world of ketu doms , which I think venus doms get to a degree.

Rohini people have a certain liking towards the metal of gold , and it will bring you auspiciousness if you buy them gold.

That's all for today hope yall enjoyed , I think you can read both observations interchangeably hehe I tried a new format hope yall like it . Dm me if you want to book a chart reading or an astrology reading 🫶

Thank you for reading

[adrienneleclerc]

And writing this I’m thinking, what if Charles is dating a reader who’s a HUGE F1 fan and is so expressive when she’s watching from the garage but like Rebecca kinda side eyes her and make her feel self conscious about how she acts, thinking to herself “am I being annoying? Loud?” Yes? No?

and the can she decide she dgaf because she's excited and showing her support to the person she loves?

That was always going to be the plan! Like home girl from the States, she’s Latina, we’re expressive! Even my mother who can’t stand soccer will be excited when it’s the World Cup! When it comes to Formula 1, personally, I am just as bad as the tifosi.

Not Your Average WAG

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Y/N was not your average WAG, she does not go to the paddock in cute designer outfits, she walks into the paddock repping Ferrari. While fans LOVE her because she is just like them, a certain WAG does not.

Warning: Spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: No hate to Rebecca, I don't really have a set opinion on her like I don't know her. But she’s going to be a major BITCH like kinda classist as most stereotypical Europeans are. Also…I MADE IT TO 1K FOLLOWERS! But this is probably not my best work so do with that as you will.

Y/N and Charles were in Y/N’s Monaco apartment, Y/N was by the kitchen counter, eating some ice cream, while Charles was watching a movie on her couch and eating popcorn. Though Y/N and Charles have been dating for a year, Y/N has never been to a race, despite her being a big fan. She is the creative director of a fashion magazine so she doesn’t have much days off and ends up watching the race on the TV she has in her office until…

“Charles, muñeco, guess what.” Y/N said, sitting next to Charles on the couch, Charles paused the movie and turned to face Y/N.

“What happened, Mon coeur?” Charles asked, Y/N took the popcorn bowl and placed it on the coffee table.

“My boss gave me the okay to work remotely so I’m able to go to the Hungarian Grand Prix with you.” Y/N said.

“Really? That’s great! Finally, you’ll get to see me in action.” Charles said, pulling Y/N onto his lap.

“I can’t wait! I’m gonna be like Luigi in Cars, I have the Ferrari shirt you gave me, your hat, I have some things from Etsy that I could totally wear like the Forza Ferrari friendship bracelet. Oh, I’m so excited!” Y/N hugged Charles and he giggled at his cuddly girlfriend. When Y/N stopped hugging him, Charles just stared at her with that dopey smile on his face. “What?” Y/N asked.

“Nothing, you’re just so cute.” Charles said, kissing Y/N’s cose, making her scrunch her nose. “We’re going to Hungary tomorrow, you might wanna pack now.” Charles taps her thigh.

“Help me pack?” Y/N asked and Charles nodded, both getting up to go to her room to pick out the clothes she’ll wear this race weekend. “Wait, you sure I’ll be able to stay in your hotel and everything? I mean i am going last minute.”

“Oh Mon coeur, ma belle, belle petite amie, I was hoping your boss would give you the okay to work remotely so I already booked everything for us. So yes, you will be staying with me at a 5 star hotel in Budapest, beautiful view and everything.” Charles kissed Y/N “So I’m thinking we could go out every night, you’ve only been to New York and Monaco, so we are going sightseeing in Hungary.” Charles said, going into Y/N’s closet and start picking out what he would like to see his girlfriend wearing. Charles placed everything on her bed.

Y/N observed the outfits Charles picked out. “Wow, Charles, love the outfits, but you are such a guy, the yellow sundress?”

“You look so cute in it, though! Come on, mon coeur, you look amazing in these outfits and this way, I get to show up how beautiful my girlfriend is.” Charles said, kissing Y/N.

“Alright, it’s fine. I’ll just wear your hoodie on the plane with my jeans.” Y/N said.

“And you’ll still be the prettiest girl on that plane ever.” Charles said.

“Thank you.” Y/N said.

They landed in Budapest and Charles drove them to their hotel. Y/N was in awe of everything since she has never been to another European country before. When they got into their hotel room, Charles told Y/N to change into one of her cute outfits because they were going to meet Carlos and Rebecca at the hotel restaurant. Y/N came out with the first outfit.

“How do I look?” Y/N asked

“You look beautiful, Mon coeur.” Charles said, stepping closer to kiss her and twirled her around. “You ready to meet them?”

“Yes, what, should I do my hair? I think it’s messy from the plane ride,” Y/N said

“Mon coeur, don’t panic, it looks fine, but if you want to do your hair, may I suggest a half up half down ponytail with the white bow?” Charles asked.

“Muñeco, why do you like it when I wear bows?” Y/N asked.

“Because it makes you look so cute.” Charles kissed her.

“Fine, I’ll do it.” Y/N did her hair and the two walked down to the restaurant. Carlos was the first one to stand up from the table to say hello to Charles and Y/N.

“Carlos, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.” Charles introduced them, Carlos and Y/N greeted each other with a kiss on the cheek.

“So nice to meet you, Charles talks about you constantly.” Carlos says and Charles blushes. “But here’s our table. Rebecca, this is Charles’s girlfriend, Y/N.”

“It’s so nice to meet you.” Y/N said.

“Nice to meet you too.” Rebecca said with a tight smile. “So Y/N, have you ever been to Budapest?

“No, this is my first time. I’ve only been to (the state your from or New York), (where your parents are from), and Monaco, obviously.” Y/N laughed off but she saw Rebecca make a face so she took a sip of water that was on the table. Don’t know why she’s judging when her name is literally a character from Full House.

“So Y/N, Charles tells me your a fan.” Carlos said and Y/N immediately became more comfortable, which Charles noticed immediately.

“Yes, I’m a huge fan. Ive always been a fan of Sebastian Vettel so when he went to Ferrari, I obviously went with him. But when he left, I stayed a Ferrari fan for you and Charles and damn, being a Ferrari fan is not easy.” Y/N said causing Charles and Carlos to laugh because it’s true, Rebecca didn’t react.

“You must be pretty excited to experience your race.” Carlos said.

“Oh, this is your first race?” Rebecca asked. “That’s a surprise considering you’re such a huge F1 fan.” She emphasized the word huge.

Lunch continued and when they finished, Charles and Y/N went to their hotel room.

“I think that went well.” Charles said.

“Are you kidding? Rebecca hates me.” Y/N said.

“She doesn’t hate you, she seemed very interested in getting to know you, asking you all those questions.” Charles said,

“Muñeco, i know you’re not a girl but don’t be such a guy, you didn’t see the faces she was making when I would talk. It’s like she hated to hear me talk.” Y/N said

“Well, Mon coeur, you two are going to spending a lot of time together this weekend.” Charles said.

“Well I know that but like what do we talk about? Because it became pretty clear I can’t talk about F1.” Y/N said.

“You’ll figure it out, bébé.” Charles said, kissing her.

The next 2 days were difficult for Y/N to say the least. On media day, she walked into the paddock with Charles, wearing a CL16 Ferrari jersey, black shorts, platform vans, and a CL16 Ferrari hat with pins she bought from Etsy.

“You look great.” Charles said, kissing her. “I’m going to the MainStage for some questions, you can walk around, try to get along with Rebecca.” Charles said.

“Okay, have fun.” Y/N said. She then starts walking around, she spotted Kika, who she has met on double dates with charles and Pierre, she was wearing a sundress. Kika then spotted Y/N.

“Y/N! Hey, I can’t believe you’re here, oh my gosh, you look so cute.” Kika said, hugging her, kissing her cheek.

“Me? You look amazing, I mean obviously, you’re an off duty model.” Y/N said laughing, Kika giggled as well.

“I gotta go with Pierre but I’ll call you.” Kika left and Y/N saw Rebecca wearing navy pants with a matching vest. She saw Y/N decked out in Ferrari and smiled

“Wow, if I didn’t know you, I’d think you were a crazed fan.” Rebecca said. Y/N didn’t react but kept walking around, hoping to run into Lily.

The rest of media day and Friday, Y/N tries to make conversation with Rebecca, she doesn’t really cooperate, Y/N gave up talking to her. It was now the qualifying session, Y/N and Rebecca were watching in the hospitality. Y/N saw that there were 3 minutes left in Q1 and Charles was a driver at risk.

“No no no no no no, come on, Charles.” Y/N was lowkey stressing but then Charles made it to 3rd in the last minute. “Yes!! Let’s go!” Y/N cheered, standing up from the couch. The rest of the quali sessions were like that, Y/N stressing whenever Carlos or Charles were drivers at risk and in the bottom 5. Y/N was beyond happy when Ferrari made 3 and 4, however, she noticed Rebecca side eyeing her whenever she was cheering, she tried to tone it down a little but she was happy for Charles because after Monaco, he wasn’t doing that well.

When Charles finished the interviews after quali, he entered the hospitality and sat next to Y/N on the couch.

“What did you think?” Charles asked.

“I’m so proud of you, you did so well.” Y/N said, hugging him.

“Let’s go to the hotel, change, and we’ll go out to eat?” Charles asked.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Y/N said. They went to the car, the ride was pretty quiet until.. “Am I annoying?”

“What do you mean ‘annoying’, Mon ange?” Charles asked.

“Exactly what I’m asking, am I annoying? Are there days where I’m talking and you’re thinking ‘will she ever shut the fuck up?’ or not, muñeco?” Y/N asked.

“Never, Mon coeur, I never thought you were annoying. Why are you asking? Did something happen with Rebecca again?” Charles asked.

“I’m telling you, she doesn’t like me. She keeps making faces when I’m cheering. Like sorry for being excited that my boyfriend moved up from being a driver at risk, I like F1, I was practically raised with the sport, and she even judged me for wearing your merch.” Y/N said pouting, Charles felt bad, her first race weekend should have been a great experience.

“Don’t pay mind to her, Mon coeur. Tomorrow is the race, I hope to place on the podium, and hopefully I’ll get to see you in Ferrari merch.” Charles said.

“Yeah.” Y/N said.

It was race day! Sadly, instead of wearing her Ferrari merch, she wore the fifth outfit to try to fit it with Rebecca. Charles saw her doing her hair, kinda disappointed that she wasn’t wearing Ferrari.

“I thought that outfit was for dinner.” Charles said.

“Well this way we could go to dinner right after the race.” Y/N said, Charles still looked at her. “I know what you’re thinking, muñeco.”

“You don’t have to change, you know.” Charles said. “You won’t really see her much next season. If you’re coming to more races, I mean.”

“I know, but I just wanna see if she’ll treat me a little better.” Y/N said, however, Rebecca stayed the same. Both were in the hospitality watching the race, Y/N was pacing because, surprise surprise, Charles had engine trouble.

“Y/N, stop pacing, geez.” Rebecca said and Y/N stopped and looked at her.

“I have had it with you. I don’t know what your problem is with me, but I am done with your judge faces. You don’t want to hear me or someone else talk about the race or express excitement when my boyfriend or someone else’s favorite driver is doing well, then don’t come to races.” Y/N expressed. Rebecca looked shocked.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” Rebecca said.

“Good, now hopefully Charles will move up from P7 to podium at least.” Y/N said. She expressed emotion as she usually does and not a single reaction from Rebecca, so much better than before. Charles got P2, Y/N went to the podium celebration, and once Charles got down from the podium, he kissed Y/N, champagne flavored kisses, of course. “So proud of you, muñeco.”

“Yeah? You watched everything?” Charles asked.

“Of course, your best race yet.” Y/N said, they kissed again and went to the drivers room.

The End

Hope y’all liked it! So I’m thinking for Just An Inchident, which if you don’t know, will be an F1 Band AU

I won’t be using Y/N BUT you’ll get your own nickname so you could read for either members of the band (Carlos, Charles, Lando, Lewis, and George/Max). Comment which nickname should be for which band member and that nickname would be strictly used by them ONLY

[temis-de-leon]

He has a nightmare where he rejected you

Characters: Levi and Satan (x gn!reader, separately)

Part 1 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5

Main Masterlist

A/N: not very satisfied with this one, but I don't want to get stuck in writer's block forever. I will revisit this in the future to improve it, but, until then, I hope you enjoy it <3

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Leviathan – He didn’t think he deserved you

Companionship from him was hard to earn; not due to pickiness, but rather fear.

Would you make fun of him when you discovered the things he liked? Would you call him a pathetic, sad excuse of a demon?

He wasn’t embarrassed about his passions, mind you; in fact, he was quite proud of them, but he knew an otaku like him wasn’t considered as attractive or interesting as others with more… normie preferences.

Take Asmo, who knew how to talk to people and profited from his appearance; or Beel, who knew how to keep his muscles; or Lucifer, whose presence was enough to call for everyone’s attention.

He couldn’t hold a candle to them, as much as the knowledge pained him, and he was sure you thought the same.

How else would you feel? You, a human suddenly lost in the Devildom with no way of surviving but proving your wit and your strength. You, who fought with tooth and nails to stand your ground and still acted with kindness towards him, paying attention to his rants, asking out of pure curiosity, keeping track of the passwords…

Falling for you came immediately after you became his best friend, but Levi couldn’t lie to himself.

There wasn’t a way in hell, heaven or earth where a possible reciprocation wasn’t fuelled by pity, no matter how much you tried to convince him otherwise.

He closed the door of his room again, keeping everyone out, hoping that if he couldn’t see your lovesick gaze anymore, then you’d find someone fitter and more deserving.

The thought pained him to no end, but really.

Levi couldn’t lie to himself.

His chest hurt, no wonder. The shape of his clothes was imprinted on his skin, sternum and ribs aching with each breath after hours of sleeping on the edge of the bathtub. He thought he’d also twisted his wrist for a moment, but the pain just came from the weight of his torso resting on top of it for who knows how long.

Levi slowly blinked as he started to wake up, a pool of drool drying next to where his head had previously been and his mouth completely dry in return, the taste of something stale and unsavoury covering his tongue.

There was a water bottle on one of the glass tables, his headphones and a half-full glass of soda, but his DDD was on the floor with his jacket. He saw a blanket there too and your scent reached him like a siren’s song.

Groaning at the rigidness of his muscles, quickly embarrassed once more of his unfit body, he pushed himself out of the bathtub and tried not to trip on the clutter around the room. Most things were his, obviously, but he also found some of your clothes and even a pair of shoes and your backpack, covered in custom pins he’d carefully designed just for you.

The image of his door closing and leaving you out of his life resurfaced in his brain. What else could it have been if not a nightmare? While he was perfectly aware you were way out of his league, Levi was also conscious about his sin and about how weak he was under its power. There was no way he would’ve survived seeing you with someone else, let alone after confessing your love to him.

Noticing your absence with a sudden wave of nausea, he wondered for a horrible second if he’d talked during his sleep and woken you up with nonsense and rejection, but there was no way you would’ve left him for that, right? You would’ve woken him up instead, offering words of comfort and reasoning.

Him knowing that fact was the main evidence of how ridiculous the nightmare was.

How could he ever forget dating you, if just for a few seconds after waking up in pure stupor? As though your mere presence in his life didn’t change him; could he ever fool himself into thinking he could go on without the chance of being with you? His dream self may have been idiotic enough to believe so, but he knew better.

Levi would never let you go.

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Satan – He didn’t realise how deep he’d fallen

He wouldn’t describe himself as superficial.

Feeling wasn’t a foreign experience; hell, he was doomed to feel, but there was so much he could understand about emotions.

Why did there have to be so many layers?

Asmo fawned over himself, rejoicing in who he was, yet he couldn’t bring himself to show how deep his mind and heart could reach.

Diavolo, so prepared for political business, yet so unsure at matters of the heart, abandoned and lonely.

You, so obviously afraid of your new surroundings, yet unwilling to bend your knee and show weakness.

Himself, falling for you slowly without either of you realising. He cared for you with what he knew was fondness, respect and appreciation. After all, given everything you’d done for him and his family, there was no other way he could look at you.

You confessed to him one day out of the blue, hope in your eyes, and his heart skipped a bit; but what if that flutter wasn’t enough? What if he was reaching too far, anticipating a chapter that would never be written?

Over time, the warmth in his chest turned bitter and electric, not stimulating anymore, but painful.

Yet, he smiled at you.

How confusing.

What a stupid mistake he had made.

You weren’t with him when he opened his eyes, which only fuelled the anger his dream had caused. Frustration at the cycle, always returning to the comfort of his sin, and fear upon your absence.

The swaying towers of books covered the window and cast shadows where they weren’t supposed to be, taunting him with the presence of someone else just as he was coming to terms with the lack of your company. His stretched arm, searching for your touch, slowly returned to him and pulled him deeper under the covers.

He still felt the goodnight kiss you had given him hours ago lingering on his lips, but it wasn’t that what helped settle his uncontrolled mind.

No.

Satan didn’t need reflection to know how much his soul yearned for yours. Although intimidated by the intensity of it, he wasn’t afraid to show just how much he loved you. Also, he would be caught dead before rejecting an idea due to a lack of perspective. Exploring your relationship had been his favourite subject by far, after all.

He knew that, had his rejection been real, his dreams would’ve been filled with the never-ending hope in your eyes and his willingness for more instead.

What he had with you in what he knew was the undeniable reality, was what he would always want in any other.

He may not understand the strength of your love and all that came in between, but wasn’t that what made it all that exciting?

.

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Taglist: @ilovecandys2010 @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion