#i like it. pls reblog it if you also like it. it is on my ao3 at theebonhawk

[misswynters]

Brothel

Sevika x afab!reader / wc: ?

warnings: 18+, BITING (thanks to ep. 3), smut with no plot, dom! sevika, fingering, sub! reader

[note | pls don’t just like, but also reblog & give me feedback. i don’t want to get shadowbanned <3

let me know if you would like to be tagged in my writings

The dim, warm glow of the brothel's lanterns cast a haze over the room, filling the space with a sense of secrecy and allure. It was here, in a secluded corner draped with plush cushions, that you found yourself in Sevika's strong embrace. Her presence was magnetic, her intensity drawing you in with every touch, every stolen glance. This was unfamiliar territory for someone from Piltover, yet with Sevika, it just felt right.

She watched you with a smirk, her eyes dark and calculating, her gloved metal hand tracing a line down your arm with an almost possessive air. "You Piltover types don't usually end up here," she teased, her voice low and gravelly.

"What's the matter? Too good for this side of the bridge?" Your breath hitched as her lips found the curve of your neck, sharp and demanding, leaving a trail of warmth across your skin. You felt yourself leaning into her, yielding to the strength of her body pressed against yours. Sevika's hands roamed confidently, as if claiming every inch of your body with each touch.

Somehow, she knew just how to ignite every nerve, her fingers tracing lines that left you breathless. Her lips brushed against your neck, and you couldn't hold back the quiet moan that slipped from your lips. Her hands tightened on your hips, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. "That's it," she murmured, her voice a rough whisper. "I knew you'd like it."

As her mouth moved lower, she grinned against your skin, savoring every reaction. The pleasure was intense, building like a fire within you, and when her teeth grazed your collarbone, you couldn't help but let your own teeth sink into her shoulder in response, a desperate attempt to steady yourself against the overwhelming sensation. Sevika's body tensed slightly, and instead of pulling away, she let out a low, satisfied growl.

"Not as innocent as you look, are you?" she murmured, clearly enjoying the way you clung to her, marking her with your bite. She shifted slightly, pulling you even closer. "You're just full of surprises," she chuckled, her hand sliding up to cup your face, guiding you to look into her eyes. The intensity in her gaze was undeniable, dark and filled with a hunger that sent a thrill through you.

"Go on," she urged, her voice low and filled with anticipation. "If that's what you need... don't hold back."

You opened your mouth to retort, but the words died as her mouth brushed along your jaw, trailing down to the sensitive skin of your neck. The sensation was intense, each touch unraveling your carefully constructed composure. Her gloved metal hand slid up to cradle the back of your neck, grounding you against her as she pressed her lips to the hollow of your throat, lingering long enough to make you shiver.

A low chuckle escaped her as she felt you tremble. "There it is... just let go. Don't fight it." Her voice was a rumbling whisper against your skin, full of knowing confidence. She bit gently at your collarbone, and a strangled gasp escaped you. Without thinking, you clutched her shoulders, sinking your teeth yet again, into her as a means of grounding yourself. Desperately trying to find anything to hold onto in the face of the overwhelming pleasure she’s giving you.

To your surprise, Sevika let out a low, appreciative growl, her eyes flashing with a thrill you hadn't expected. "Now that's more like it," she purred, her smirk growing as she pulled back just enough to look at you. Her gaze was predatory, dark with a mixture of approval and challenge. "Not so prim after all, are you?"

You felt heat rise to your face, but she didn't give you a chance to reply, her hand sliding down your back, pressing you closer against her. "Good. I want you to feel every second of this," she whispered, her voice low and intense.

"So don't hold back on me. Let me hear you."

Her hand slid down to your thigh, guiding it up over her hip with a firm yet gentle touch. She held you steady, her eyes never leaving yours as her fingers traced firm, reassuring circles against your skin. "I'm right here," she murmured. "Just relax... let me take care of you." Her voice was a steady anchor, pulling you deeper into the moment, every word laced with that commanding edge that made your pulse race.

The sensations were intense, overwhelming, and every time you felt yourself losing control, her hand would tighten, guiding you back, her voice a steady whisper against your ear. "That's it... just like that," she murmured, encouraging you with a gentleness that was almost surprising. "Don't be afraid to take what you want."

Sevika's gaze held a gleam of dark intent as her metal fingers traced over your hips, the coolness of the metal sending a shiver up your spine. Her smirk deepened as she watched your reaction, clearly enjoying the way you arched instinctively under her touch.

She was meticulous, taking her time, each movement deliberate as she let her hand linger, mapping out every inch of your skin with the smooth, unyielding surface.

"Relax," she murmured, her voice low and commanding as she slid her hand lower, the metal a striking contrast against the warmth of your skin. "You wanted something different, didn't you?" Her lips were close to your ear, her breath hot as her fingers pressed just a little harder, testing the limits of your comfort. She worked in slow, steady circles against your clit, applying just enough pressure to make your heart race.

Her other hand remained warm and grounding on your thigh, keeping you still as she let her metal fingers explore, her touch both soothing and electrifying. Each motion sent sparks through you, the contrast between warmth and coolness, softness and hardness, blending into a sensation that had you on edge. You tried to stifle a gasp, but Sevika noticed, her smirk deepening.

"Oh, don't hold back now," she drawled, her voice laced with a teasing edge. "I want to hear you."

Sevika's touch was almost too much, the metal fingers moving inside you reaching deeper, each steady motion making you shudder. She watched every reaction, her gaze sharp, her focus never wavering. You felt yourself losing control, every movement of her fingers inside you driving you closer to the edge. Each slow, deliberate touch made you tremble, your breath hitching as you tried to stifle the sounds escaping you.

"Sevika... I.." you gasped, struggling to find words as the intensity built. Her fingers moved with calculated precision, unrelenting, and as you continued to reach your climax, you instinctively tried to pull back. But Sevika's hand tightened on your thigh, holding you firmly in place, her gaze narrowing as she watched you squirm beneath her.

"Oh no, you're not going anywhere," she murmured, a smug grin on her lips as she took in the effect she had on you. "I told you, I want you to feel every second of this."

Sevika's fingers worked expertly, her movements rhythmic and deliberate, each motion coaxing out more of the heat building inside you. The room was filled with the unmistakable, wet sounds of her fingers moving inside your folds. The wetness coated her metal fingers, glistening in the dim light as they slid in and out with ease. The noises growing louder with every movement, that it surely can be heard from outside the room. Luckily everyone knew better than to interrupt when sevika has business with you.

She noticed, a grin spreading across her lips as she looked down, clearly proud of the effect she had on you. "You hear that?" she murmured, her voice thick with satisfaction. "That's all you, making such a mess for me." You whimpered, your face flushed as you tried to turn away, but she guided your chin back with her free hand, forcing you to meet her intense gaze.

"Don't hide from me. I want to see every reaction," she ordered, her voice both commanding and gentle. Her fingers continued their steady rhythm, now slick with your arousal, each movement creating an unmistakable wet, squelching sound that filled the small room. The sensations were almost too much, and as her fingers pressed against your clit, you instinctively tried to pull back, feeling the heat of pleasure growing almost too intense. But Sevika's other hand pressed firmly on your upper thigh, keeping you anchored to her, her grip strong and unyielding. "Don't even think about it," she growled softly, amusement coloring her tone.

"You're going to stay right here and take it." Her gaze flicked down to where her long slender fingers were inside. Her smirk only grew as she watched the way her hand gleamed, coated in your arousal.

"So damn wet... all for me," she muttered, almost to herself, as if fascinated. As the pleasure intensified, you couldn't hold back the noises slipping from your lips, and Sevika noticed, lifting her hand toward your mouth. "Bite down if you have to," she commanded gently, her voice low and almost possessive. You hesitated but felt another wave of sensation, so you did as she instructed, biting down gently on her rough palm, your muffled moans blending with the wet, rhythmic sounds her fingers created. You were so lost in the pleasure of her fingers that you count control yourself, slobbering over her hand. And she liked it.

"Good girl," Sevika murmured, her words filled with approval as she felt you tense and writhe beneath her. The pace of her fingers quickened, each movement slick and unrelenting, the wetness intensifying as she continued, her fingers gliding in and out effortlessly. She leaned in closer, her breath hot against your skin as she whispered, "Let go for me. Don't hold back."

The pressure built to a breaking point, her fingers working in relentless rhythm, the wet sounds a constant reminder of just how thoroughly she had unraveled you. When the release finally overtook you, it hit like a wave, and Sevika didn't stop, her fingers coaxing out every last shudder, her smirk widening as she felt the intensity of your reaction.

"There it is," she murmured, her tone filled with satisfaction as her fingers slowed, wet and glistening from the pleasure she had pulled from you. She leaned close, brushing a gentle kiss to your cheek as you caught your breath, her eyes filled with pride. "You did good."

taglist: @untitled-locket @cestlaprincesa @ohboi @themostlesbianever

banners: @cafekitsune

[kentoxo]

friction | reader (f) x crush!nanami pt.9

pairing: reader (f) x crush!nanami

synopsis: [AU] you have always had a crush on nanami. since the day you were hired as his personal assistant, you've been right at his side combating numbers and making money within the finance department for the company you two worked for. but, things take a turn when nanami catches wind of your feelings, and rejects you. little did he know the weight of his mistake.

warnings: angst, heartbreak, sexual tension, jealousy (future smut)

a/n: prepare urself. next chapter may or may not be crazy. once again (the usual) spam of thank yous. all of your kind words both in replies and reblogs makes my heart sing. to those who said they want to be part of the taglist-- i reopened it! i might have missed those who recently asked to be on it so pls reply to this chapter so i can get you :( so sorry for my lack of meticulousness.

all parts: pt.1, pt.2, pt.3, pt.4, pt.5, pt.6, pt.7, pt.8,

December | Tokyo, Japan | Saturday

You had to call out the following Thursday and Friday. 

The cold you manifested was wreaking havoc on your body, the constant shivering now straining your muscles and bones. You couldn’t even find comfort in your bed, as you’d sneeze and cough, or dash to the bathroom during the waves of nausea. You were grateful to not have gotten frostbite, but damn this cold bites! 

It was nice to have some space away from work, and Nanami. You deduced that this cold was inevitable, as the stress that loomed over since your confession (and second rejection). But this wasn’t fun either, as you could barely make yourself a cup of coffee while also having to answer Haibara every few minutes, who wanted to make sure you were doing well. It was bittersweet to say the least. 

As you cuddle your heating pad meant for your tummy, you begin to scroll carelessly on your phone. Although it was your day off, and you were sick, you often liked to check your work emails. You like to be extra prepared for Monday, as those were the days when you have bigger workloads to tackle. As you scrolled, you stumbled upon an email directly from Takada shacho. Before you could open it however, there was a gentle knocking at your door. 

“Coming…” you say weakly, quickly finding a mask on your bedside table. Comforting the straps around your ears, you make a slow walk towards your door. You get on your tiptoes to look through the peephole, only to back away in shock and slight embarrassment. “N-Nanami kacho? What are you… doing here?” You proceed to cough. 

“I came to check on you,” Nanami hums from behind the door. “I know you’ve been sick due to my shortcomings. I wanted to see how you were faring.” 

“A-ah, I see,” you stammer nervously. You were hoping not to see him until Monday, but luck still remains anywhere but your side. “You could have just called me as well…” 

“I felt… that it would be best to come in person,” Nanami begins shyly. The sound of plastic shuffling joins. “I, um, also brought some things to treat you. If it’s okay with you, may I please come in?” 

You go a bit pale, “um… I don’t really want to get you sick. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to come in and–” 

“I don’t care. I’d like to see you, and make sure you are well.” Nanami interrupts you with a stern tone. His words sounded non-negotiable, and you didn’t want to [fuck around and] find out if you refused his entry. Reluctantly, you unlocked your door and slowly opened it, revealing the tall man before you. 

His hair was once again messy, lazily pulled back with his fingers. He was covered in snow,  of course, but had gloves on to protect himself from potential frostbite. You look down at his two large bags he got from 7-Eleven. You move out of his way and let him place the bags down. He closes the door behind him, and begins to untie his scarf from around his neck. As he did, you offered your hands out to take it from him. 

“Let me,” you offer in a hoarse voice. 

Nanami looks down at you, “you’re sick. Thank you, but I can hang it myself. Please feel free to go back to bed.” 

“A-ah, but you’re my guest,” you insisted through weak coughs. “My mom would reprimand me if she saw the way I was hosting you right now. I haven’t even boiled tea…” 

Nanami, now just in a sweatshirt and his joggers, quickly puts on his slippers and offers his hand to you. You look up at him confused. “Come and sit down,” he coos, taking your hand and guiding you towards your living room. He gently allows you to take a seat on the couch, which is quite the relief considering you were exasperating just from answering the door. 

Through small coughs, you watch as Nanami brings his bags to the kitchen, and begins to unpack them. He silently takes out a few vegetables and cartons of broth. A pool of pill bottles also leave the bag, along with other cold suppressants. “Can I,” you start hesitantly, your index fingers looping around one another, “can I offer you a cup of coffee?” 

“No,” Nanami shot you down quickly, “I’d rather you rest than concern yourself with me. Though, the offer in your condition is very touching.” 

Your cold now felt like a fever, as your cheeks went completely hot. You looked crazy, your hair and makeup undone. Your pajamas were ornate with little ducks, and you don’t even have tea prepared. And here was this effortless, handsome man in your house, with a pot in his hands and his eyes navigating your tiny kitchen. It was an honor to see him outside of his work clothes, as it still made your heart run. 

“Are there any vegetables you don’t like?” Nanami asks gently. 

You sit up promptly, staring distantly towards the pot that was now full of water and preparing to boil. “I’m not a big fan of daikon in my soup,” you reply awkwardly. “A bit too strong for me.” 

Nanami looks over at you and gives you a small smile, “I would have never expected that you didn’t like daikon, Y/N.” 

“In soup, I’m not a fan,” you quickly mend the confusion, “soups are meant to be calming, not crazy.” 

“Daikon makes soup crazy?” Nanami continues, amused by your detest. 

“It’s a bit much,” You exclaim weakly. “Just me personally, I can’t deal with all that sass.” 

“Sass?” Nanami finally lets out a chuckle, “what a way to describe a vegetable you don’t like.” As he cleans the vegetables he provided, he couldn’t help but continue to smile. “So this is what you’re like outside of work,” he whispers to himself. But your ears catch his words quickly. 

You feel your cheeks burn from shyness. But as you stared at the back of Nanami’s head, you remembered all the tears you’ve shed these last 2 weeks. Your heart still hurts, even while sharing a warm conversation like this. He was still the man who you confessed to, and broke your heart twice. You look distant towards your window, seeing the snow slowly fall over the city. 

“You don’t have to cook for me, Nanami kacho,” you say quietly, “you have done enough, so thank you. I can do the rest from here.” 

Nanami purposely ignores you as he begins to chop a carrot. “What do I have to do in order to stop you from calling me kacho?” Your neck snaps back to look at him, noticing Nanami’s seriousness from his side profile. 

You drop your hands to grip the end of the couch, squeezing it to calm you down. “You’ve made it very clear what kind of relationship we have. It’s inappropriate otherwise, so from your perspective, I should proceed with calling you kacho.”

“Y/N, please.” 

“Please what?” A bit of attitude left the tip of your tongue. You jump in fear. Just because you were hurt doesn’t change the fact that Nanami is still your boss. The man that signs off your hours. ”Ah, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to use that kind of tone. I just… think it’s best that we revert back to honorifics.” 

“I disagree,” Nanami hums from the kitchen. He begins to look through your spice pantry (which you were surprised he knew where to find it) and pulls out your pepper. “How spicy would you like your soup?” 

“You told me that you are my boss, and I am your assistant,” you repeated his words from the night before. “You want comradery but don’t see me as anything beyond your colleague.” You tighten your grip on your couch. “And...not so spicy, for the soup.” 

You were sick. Having to bring this conversation up once more was making you even sicker. 

“Y/N, I misspoke,” Nanami says firmly, closing the pot with a lid to allow the soup to simmer. He grabs a glass from your cupboard and goes over to pour water from the pitcher. Pouring the water generously, he makes his way over to you with a few of the pills he purchased. “Here, I have a few supplements you can take now. The painkillers will be for after you eat.” 

“I know how to take care of myself,” you murmur. Nanami takes a seat next to you, pouring the pills into one hand while carefully handing you the water in the other. Lowering your mask, you swallow the pills like morsels, and follow it with sips of water. “Feel free to go after this. Thank you for setting up the soup, I can take it from here.”

Nanami eyes your face, making you blush even more. You were thankful that you were sick, as the hue on your cheeks can be explained by your current health. Putting the cup down, you quickly busy yourself once more by taking the decorative blanket on the couch and covering yourself with it. As you did, a finger appears before your face. You halt, watching as Nanami begins to drag some sort of salve on your lips. His middle finger gently drags the petroleum-like substance against your bottom lip, before swiping the rest against your top lip. 

You could explode right then and there. Your nausea wave was a bit more intense, but more so from the intensity of Nanami’s gaze, and his touch against your chapped lips. Your heart was beating hard, and you couldn’t move. Like yesterday, you were frozen. His touch, despite his muscular stature, was gentle, soft. It felt like butter. 

“S-sorry,” Nanami immediately pulled his hand away. He quickly looks away from you, hints of pink at the edge of his cheekbones. “I overstepped. I’m very, very sorry Y/N.” 

“It’s fine,” you quickly spew, “just… wash your hands before you touch anything else or yourself. I would hate for you to get sick because of me.” 

“A-ah, right,” he concurs, quickly jogging to the kitchen to wash his hands. Drying his hands with a towel, he once again joins you on the couch. “I will admit, I didn’t just come here to care for you. I wanted us to… discuss more about our conversation the other night.” 

Here he goes. Opening a wound that is long but healed. “What else is there to talk about?” You say, coughing a bit to clear your throat. You felt light headed from how congested you are, especially since talking so much. And now, Nanami was forcing you to engage in a conversation that led to your feelings being hurt more. “We both expressed our feelings to one another, and came to the conclusion that our relationship should strictly stay as a coworker dynamic.” 

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, actually,” Nanami begins quietly. His eyes keep at your coffee table, with fingers weaving together slowly. He looks pensive, like he’s looking for the right words to say. But even within those thoughts, he was uneasy. “Hold on.” In a moment, he pulls off his sweatshirt, revealing himself in a black, skin tight shirt. This would be the first time you truly saw his physique, seeing as the shirt hugs into the dents and divots of his pecs and abs. The short sleeves give temptation to his muscular arms. His torso was enough to make any woman submissive. 

You look away, but still hold your ground, “if that is the case, then I’d like to apologize again for my feelings towards you. I’m working on letting them go so they no longer pose as a nuisance or discomfort for you. And if need be, I understand if you’d rather distant our work relationship, or transfer me back to Sales.” 

This is when Nanami faces you again, “Y/N, look at me.” 

His tone wasn’t aggressive nor strict, but you felt submissive to his request. You slowly turn, your eyes finding their way to his own. Hazel eyes bore into yours, and you noticed his bottom lip snug between his teeth. 

“That night when you confessed to me, I didn’t quite understand what it all meant for me,” Nanami begins quietly. He tightens his hold on his hands. “I’ve never really known what to do when people confess to me. But I was so used to not reciprocating those feelings that rejecting them was as easy as breathing.”

“You’re a little too good at it,” you let out, your heart jolting from the memory of the rejection. 

“And for that I apologize,” Nanami quickly spews, “not only for hurting your feelings, but for lying to you.” 

“Lying to me?” You felt your forehead going hot. “About what?” 

“About my feelings towards you,” Nanami’s tone hinted at a dash of embarrassment, “Admittedly, not even I knew I was lying to you until I finally gave it some thought.” 

You could only stare at him, trying to find some sense in his face. But as you stared at him, you noticed a break of conviction in his hazel eyes. His usual professional demeanor was absent, leaving you with a Nanami you’ve never met before. His confidence wavers, and before you was a red-faced, shy man. 

“Kento,” you begin, causing him to jump from his first name leaving your tongue. “I’d feel worse if you’re feigning liking me for the sake of making up with me. I told you, it is my fault for liking you.” 

“If you’re taking fault for that,” Nanami begins, his eyes diverting away from you, “then it is also your fault for making me like you back.” 

Huh? You felt hot, cold, and dizzy. His words were nauseating, and you were confident you were green in the face. Your hands and arms shake with nerves, goosebumps ornate all over your body. Before you could even utter another word, you feel yourself going faint. 

“Y/N?” Your name sounded distant. Before you knew it, your eyes flutter shut, pitch black surrounding you. 

Taglist:

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@v1x3n @s-witch-bitch @furgusonn @watyousayin @thechaoticarchivist

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@dusty-dweller @wifenanami @bokuatsubro @ayesayman @starry-eyed--dreamer

[vettelsvee]

YOU'RE NOT HANNA, AND NEVER WILL BE HER | Sebastian Vettel

history series main masterlist | requests/ask me anything!

red bull sebastian vettel x reader, nico rosberg x reader

word count: 6588

summary: 2010 german gp post race party has many things in store for seb and y/n, who finally do what they both been willing to do for a long time even they're dating hanna prater and nico rosberg

warnings: everything related to gender-based violence (main trigger warning to physical and mental abuse) from nico to y/n (reminder that everything you read on my blog is fiction), curse words, "cheating", mentions of suicide and cancer

a/n: i'm quite scared and happy at the same time to be posting this fic because it's one of my favourite parts ever on history series, but still has me so worried you might not like it because of all the topics (and because history series was originally posted on wattpad and not many people liked it but don't let anyone know that pls). anyways, let me know your thoughts on this one and request anything you might like if you want pls! i'll probably be posting tomorrow another part since my town is currently on high risk alert of floods and we've been told not to leave home. let me remind you that comments and reblogs are truly appreciated! thank you so much <3

© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

2010 Hockenheim   German Grand Prix  

You paused for a moment in front of the bathroom mirror as Valentina finished your makeup. You leaned forward to get a better look, but the your woman followed your movements with perfect synchronization and, surprisingly, without messing it all up.

Your own reflection was completely unrecognizable to you. In front of you stood a beautiful, self-assured Y/N, looking like someone who possibly had a life that, while not perfect, seemed enviable.

You feared that a simple layer of makeup could make you feel completely different from reality. It was as if all your problems had suddenly vanished, and instead had in front of you a superwoman admired by everyone, not a twenty-something whose life was falling apart.

Valentina Martínez, the girl standing beside you with whom you’d had the opportunity to become closer, was one of the Mercedes catering managers and, also, exactly the complete opposite of you. Valentina had a beauty that everyone could admire and a confidence that many, including yourself, would love to have. She could lift others' spirits with just a smile and a few words that, while not wise, were good enough to make sense.

The Argentine radiated the kind of magic you felt you lacked.

So, when Valentina’s gaze fell on yours as you continued to admire how beautiful you felt.

“Come on, Y/N!” Valentina shouted, stepping away from you and starting to bounce on her feet. “I know this isn’t your thing, but I swear you look incredibly hot.”

“Valentina…”

“None of that,” she interrupted, “you need a bit more confidence. I don’t know how you don’t have it with Nico already. He’s totally worth it!”

As Valentina’s smile grew wider, you sighed and lowered your head. You thanked her as calmly as you could for trying to transfer some of her positivity, though you knew it was somewhat of a show Valentina put on for everyone and wasn’t doing anything particularly special for you.

That was what you liked least about her: Valentina was so well-liked and appreciated by everyone that, somehow, she always played the same role, regardless of who she was with.

“I don’t know why I’m going to a party I definitely don’t want to go to,” you confessed with honesty.

Today’s race had been quite tough, and although the strategies were solid, they didn’t seem to deliver the expected results when Seb only managed to get bronze in his home race. That’s why all you wanted to do at that moment was order a good room-service dinner and eat it under the bed sheets while watching some low-budget TV show before trying to get some sleep.

"You know that stepping out of our comfort zone is the best thing," Valentina said, moving closer to you and gently taking your hands. "Besides, you're doing this for Nico," she insisted. "Remember: he's your boyfriend, and it's your duty to make him happy."

You smiled shyly even though, deep down, you shivered a bit at the tone Valentina seemed to be using with you. It was as if she wanted those last words, it's your duty to make him happy, to penetrate your mind and stay there. You tried to ignore it, as it was probably your own insecurities taking over. And, in some way, you knew Valentina wasn’t wrong. She was aware that you needed to stop being so perfectionistic and rigid, and maybe start letting yourself go a little bit more.

"You're right, yeah," you finally said. "Thanks for everything."

Without saying anything else, you left Valentina’s room to head back to your own, just a couple of doors away, not without first gathering the clothes you had been wearing earlier while your friend continued getting ready.

As you took out your room card from the small purse hanging from your shoulder and swiped it to enter, you started feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. However, the moment Nico Rosberg, your boyfriend, came out to greet you and looked you up and down, hands on his hips, all of it disappeared.

"Are you seriously going out dressed like that?" he asked, completely incredulous, pointing at your dress. "You look like a slut."

You were speechless, though part of you wanted to say everything she was feeling. Once again, fear caused you to shrink back, cautious about your actions and the possible consequences. The tone he had used on you was filled with anger and, above all, disappointment. You knew that nothing good would come from answering, so instead you held back everything you wanted to say to him.

“Nico, it's just a dress…” you tried to explain as calmly as possible, not really knowing how to make him see reason without losing your composure.

He stepped closer, and his eyes filled you with nothing but fear. You could swear that, in his fury, the bluish hue of his eyes had turned an orange-red, like fire; his pupils, fully dilated, were what sent you into internal panic.

“I don’t give a damn fuck if it’s just a dress,” he mocked you. “I don’t want you going out like that. You know there’ll be consequences.”

Be careful how you act with me, he had told you one day when you said you weren't in the mood to go out to have dinner. Since then, though you had realized many things he did to you, you’d also started to act with caution and rationality, knowing that blows could come at any moment.

You’d even considered that there was a remote possibility that you might be the one to end things, especially every time you recalled every single insult he used to hurl at you whenever you misbehaved, which had only increased in frequency in recent weeks, following your father’s death and your trip with Seb to your hometown for the funeral.

But, most especially, when the Red Bull Racing driver stayed a few days with you because he was absolutely worried about your mental health getting worse.

A lump formed in you throat as a few tears began to fall freely down your face, ruining the makeup your friend had taken so much time to apply and had turned out so well.

“If you don’t change your clothes right now and put on something that makes you look like a decent person…” He threatened, moving closer with his hand raised. “Think carefully, Y/N: I don’t want to go crazy, but I think you're forcing me to.”

You couldn’t let fear paralyze you at least, not now, as you felt his hand inching closer to your body. Another physical mark that would eventually fade, but another one that would leave a psychological one permanently.

"Please, Nico, don’t do this…” you begged, completely desperate by this point, but trying not to show it. “You said you loved me just the way I am and…”

“I just can’t believe you’re so stubborn! Don’t you get that I don’t want you going out dressed like some desperate girl who clearly wants to fuck with everyone?!” he yelled, filled with rage.

You backed up as much as you could until your back hit one of the surrounding walls. You had encountered this version of Nico before: no matter how hard you tried to reason with him, he would manipulate you until you ended up thinking it was entirely your own fault.

“Please, Nico, don’t shout. I don’t want anyone to hear us…”

“They’ll hear us if that’s what you deserve for wanting to embarrass me,” he shouted again, even more furious.

You knew the tension had reached its peak and that, from there, things would only worsen. 

Nico kept yelling at you. With your eyes squeezed shut and your hands pressed over your ears, waited for the familiar sensation of one of his limbs landing on any part of your body he fancied at that moment.

“Oh, so now you have the nerve to ignore me?”

When you heard him clearly again and saw his hand raise, you somehow found the courage to turn away and quickly slip into the bathroom, forgetting to lock the door in your haste.

“Open up right now!” he screamed.

While he pounded on the door, his yelling relentless, you leaned against the farthest wall, as if he might burst in at any moment. 

It wouldn’t be the first time it had happened. 

You gasped for air in a place where there seemed to be none, your hand instinctively clutching your chest as if to shield your heart, which felt like it might burst out at any moment. You had learned to live with anxiety and panic, and both emotions had reached a point where they didn’t control each other but had fused, learning to coexist together with you.

“Nico… I’ll change my clothes,” you said, still crying, your voice choking. “I’m sorry, really,” you lied, trying to sound as convincingly as you could. “But please… don’t hurt me.”

Not again.

Your whispers seemed to have reached him because his pounding and labored breathing quieted. You hoped that the situation had calmed, and it seemed like it had.

He didn’t answer immediately, instead giving you enough time to remove the ruined makeup from your face and apply just a little mascara. A few minutes passed, enough time for you to relax and consider the possible outcomes of what might happen next, before he coldly demanded that you open the door.

You emerged and collided with his chest. Forcing yourself to look up at him, all you could see was contempt.

“Once again, you’ve disappointed me,” he stated without a hint of hesitation. “No wonder why lots of shit happens to you and people treat you so poorly. I was wrong to judge Vettel: he was right to treat you that way, and he should’ve done even more to you.”

All you could do was lower your gaze and head toward your suitcase on the floor, trying to pick something that would be ok with Rosberg’s dress code while reminding yourself that Seb did things quite bad, but he seemed to be truly sorry and apologized many times to you. The beautiful red dress, strapless and embellished across the chest, falling just above your knees, had to be replaced by another dress of the same color, but one that reached your ankles, with a much higher neckline and looser fit, so as not to highlight your nearly nonexistent curves.

“Happy now?” you asked, with as much disdain as you dared, even knowing he might match your face to her outfit.

“If you behaved like a responsible adult, yes,” he muttered as he opened the door and took your hand forcefully. “Sometimes I forget you’re only twenty-two and you have a lot to learn about life.”

Did he really know more about life than you did after all you had to go through?

That thought lingered in your mind throughout the journey, from their floor’s hallway to where the party was held, including the elevator ride where they encountered Mark Webber and a journalist from Sky Sports Germany, Eloise Schimdt. During the conversation between the four of them, though you remained silent, you had to pretend that everything was fine, even as your insides felt like they were shattering further.

As they entered the venue, the music, louder than she liked, started to throb in your ears. Your eyes opened wide to adjust to the dim lights from the spotlights, and, as you always did when in a public place with Nico, you began scanning the scene in detail.

There were more people than the space could comfortably hold. The dance floor was packed with people moving energetically, glasses in hand with the sole mission of keeping the alcohol from spilling. The bar was just as crowded, and in the center, across from shelves stocked with every type of liquor imaginable, she spotted Kimi, Fernando and Jenson with their respective partners, chatting animatedly.

But your eyes didn’t seem to waste any time and ended up settling on the guy standing a bit farther away from the others.

Sebastian was leaning back against the bar, tapping his left hand on it to match the rhythm of the song playing. In his other hand he held a glass of what she assumed was, possibly, a Jägerbomb, his favorite drink and, to him, a must-have for parties like this. He was wearing a white t-shirt and jeans with those Geox trainers he always wore, and his hair was completely tousled.

In that moment, you felt utterly captivated by him, and you were sure you would have dared to talk to him if his eyes hadn’t been fixed on Hanna. The blonde girl was a few steps in front of him, dancing seductively without caring where she was or who might be watching her.

You couldn’t help but wish, at that moment, to be her.

You shook off those conflicting thoughts as soon as Nico grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you, snapping you out of your trance, to head toward the bar.

"Give me a Martini," he said abruptly to the bartender, "and some water for her. She’s a bit dizzy," he lied to stop you from drinking, as he often did every time you went out.

"A Jägerbomb if you can, please," you ended up telling the guy behind the bar with your best smile.

You completely ignored the words and looks Nico was giving you. Instead, you just flashed your best smile at the bartender, who kept looking at you with concern, along with the rest of the people who weren’t too intoxicated yet and had overheard your boyfriend’s words.

"I can’t believe you’re drinking again… Can’t you control yourself or what?" he snapped.

He pulled you aggressively close, and you tried you best to ignore his words, spoken in a threatening tone directly into your ear, while you took your drink from the bar, along with his, and offered it to him.

Surrounded by people, you felt a bit safer than usual. He wouldn’t be able to hurt you, at least not physically, in front of everyone here… His reputation would be ruined, and Nico Rosberg was too proud to allow that.

So you didn’t stay silent.

"Nico, leave me alone for a few hours, please," you replied, ignoring his comments. "I’m here to enjoy the party you were so insistent on coming to, not to get scolded for wanting to have fun with you."

"Damn it, Y/N!" he expressed in frustration. "Do you always have to ruin everything or what?"

You just lifted your glass to avoid spilling your drink and walked towards the dance floor, leaving Rosberg behind, hurling insults you decided to ignore.

As soon as you found yourself among the crowd, greeting familiar faces with a friendly smile, you let yourself get carried away by the rhythm of the music. Tonight your shyness seemed nonexistent, and you could only thank the alcohol for giving you the confidence you had lost. You started to lose track of time as you danced, and though you didn’t know how, each move helped free you from the intrusive thoughts of loneliness and worthlessness, of feeling like nothing more than a mere object, which had crowded your mind at a dizzying speed.

You knew that mixing liquor with the energy drink that funded your lifestyle was only a temporary fix and that, once the effects wore off, your life would return to the completely chaotic state you had come to deserve.

Suddenly, the music stopped, as did the bodies moving on the dance floor. A spotlight focused on the stage, where Seb stood, microphone in hand and swaying. There was no doubt that he was drunk.

His swaying body made it clear that he had no idea what he was doing and that, at some point, he would end up regretting something.

"Sorry, sorry!" he said into the microphone. "But I feel like making a little pause in this party we’ve got going tonight because I want to sing a song to someone I care about a lot."

You began to feel terrible as Vettel gestured to the DJ for the music he wanted. A few seconds later, the first chords of Just the Way You Are by Bruno Mars was the only sound echoing in the room.

"Babe, this song is for you, and I want you to know how much you mean to me!"

You could see Hanna smiling broadly and shrugging. You wanted to leave to cry again at the beautiful scene unfolding in front of you, of which you definitely weren’t the main character.

Was it too soon to say that the boy you were in love with dedicating a song to his girlfriend hurt worse than any blow your current boyfriend had ever given you?

Yes, it was clear. Possibly, the alcohol had already taken too strong a hold, and you could no longer control what you said or thought.

You know I'd never ask you to change  

If perfect's what you're searching for  

Then just stay the same  

So don't even bother asking if you look okay

You felt confused and didn’t know what to do, but Sebastian’s voice, trembling and making his English accent sound more German than usual, had you completely captivated.

So did Prater's reaction when the German shifted his gaze from her to you.

“This is for you,” he said, sweeping his gaze across the crowd. “I know you know who you are, and I want you to know it’s all for you, and that you deserve the absolute best.”

When I see your face  

There is not a thing that I would change  

'Cause you're amazing  

Just the way you are  

And when you smile  

The whole world stops and stares for a while  

'Cause, girl, you're amazing  

Just the way you are

You noticed Hanna moving to your side, visibly confused and clearly uncomfortable with what was happening.

“Y/N…”

She couldn’t say anything else, nor could you to her. As much as you wished to be Hanna, you couldn’t help feeling sorry for her at the strong possibility that her boyfriend was confessing his feelings to another girl right in front of her.

Or, at least, that’s what the alcohol led you to believe.

“I want you to know that, from the first moment I saw you, you’ve been in my heart,” Seb admitted, his words drawn out, uncaring about the reactions of those around them, especially his girlfriend’s or yours. “Right now, I can’t have what I want most, but I want you to know that being with you is the only wish I’ve made, and the one I’ll keep making on my birthday, until we can finally be together.”

That was the last straw. As quickly as she could, trying in vain to hold back tears and avoid drawing attention, Hanna left, thoroughly embarrassed, muttering something you couldn’t catch. Seb's voice still echoed in your ears, but you tried to ignore it because you couldn’t believe what had just happened.

Lost in thoughts, you moved as far away as you could, trying not to stumble. Then, you made your way to the bar to order another drink, as if that might somehow make you forget what had just happened.

Just before you could exchange words with the bartender who had already served you so many drinks that night, you felt someone take your wrist, though this time much more gently. You knew it wouldn’t be Nico; when you turned around and saw Seb, however, you were even more surprised.

Your eyes met, and butterflies began to flutter in your stomach. Once again, you felt at home and safe, though deep down, you were only afraid.

Without saying a word, he took your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours.

In that moment, you felt everything fade away. You let yourself go, unafraid of who might be watching or what might happen next. Your arms wrapped around his neck, and his hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss… your first kiss. 

Slowly, calmly, and, as you felt, full of affection, you stayed that way until you both needed air.

You felt that you had both been waiting for this moment for so long and, in a way, you deserved it, turning a simple gesture of affection into something unique and special, caring little about your partners or your sobriety.

Seb pulled back, his hands still resting on you, and your gazes shared in complicity about what had just happened. You knew he was happy but confused, just as you were. You didn’t know what to say, and knowing he didn’t either, you simply gave him a shy smile to let him know everything was okay, that he could do that a thousand times more from now on.

“Y/N…”

“What is it, Seb?”

You wanted him to tell you he loved you, that he’d left Hanna, and that he wanted you to be his new girlfriend, the love of his life.

But, instead, Seb looked at you and left you, once again, speechless:

“You’re not Hanna… and never will be her...”

After he said that, you felt nothing but your breath slipping away and the sensation of fainting.

You wanted to tell him everything you felt at that moment, but his words had hit you so hard that they only increased your confusion and pain.

All you could do was stare at him, likely making a fool of yourself with the amount of tears clouding your vision. Silence took over, and when you finally found the strength to speak, trying to hide the pain you knew your voice would show, he turned away without even saying goodbye.

"How the hell could you do that, Y/N?! You have no shame! You humiliated me in front of everyone. Kissing Sebastian like you don't care about your boyfriend... now I see what you're really up to."

You didn't have time to say anything or leave because Rosberg came running towards you, grabbing your arm with a force you'd never seen in him. It hurt, and your scream, which was more of a complaint from the pain than a surprise, was a way of expressing how much you were hurting, not just from the tight grip, but also from the shake he'd just given you.

"Nico, please, calm down..." you tried to calm him, not wanting to embarrass yourself. Some people were already looking at you, and you wished Earth would swallow you up. "It was just..."

"Don't play innocent!" he shouted too loudly. "You thought I wouldn't find out?! I saw you kissing that piece of shit who only wants to fuck you until he's bored of you," he said, referring to Seb. "Now everyone here knows what you really are: a whore! And I'm glad, Y/N… You have no idea how glad I am."

The music suddenly stopped blasting, but your boyfriend's anger didn’t.

"Nico... I love you, really," you tried to speak. "It was just a moment of weakness..."

The moment of weakness was exactly what you were feeling now, making him believe you were truly in love with him when, in fact, you were only staying in the relationship because you were afraid your reputation wouldn’t make it out alive. 

"You say you love me? Don't make me laugh! If you really loved me, you wouldn’t act like this."

You wanted to tell him that you thought the same about him, but you held back, paralyzed again by the fear that your mind was processing all the bad things that could happen.

"Nico, come on. You don’t have to act like this. We can talk about this civilly."

As you saw Edward, Vettel’s personal trainer, appear, and pull Nico a bit away from you, a little peace returned to your body. You gave him a grateful look, to which he just answered by nodding.

"You don’t have to get involved, Eddie!" your boyfriend shouted. "Stay out of our fucking business!"

"You know you don’t have to treat her like this," he said seriously.

"She’s a whore, can't you see it?" Nico spat, pointing at you. "Disgusting little girl..."

"Nico, I understand you're angry," Patterson spoke again, after the German’s words, "but neither of you is in a state to talk about this, and this is not the right place," he said, referring to the curious looks around them.

You could only constantly whisper for them not to fight anymore, while deep down you prayed to take you away from all of this and bring you back to the hotel.

"I don’t care what you say," Eddie started. "I'm taking Y/N. I don’t think being here is the best thing for her."

After saying that, he stood behind you and guided you, putting his hand on your back, toward his car. At that moment, your desperation was so great that you didn’t even think about whether he was in any condition to drive.

The way back to the hotel, less than ten minutes away, felt eternal.You hadn’t drunk much because you didn’t like it, but not being used to it was enough for a couple of curves and a badly taken roundabout to make you gag and feel like vomiting.

Slowly, the shock began to set in, and you started to act on autopilot mode, following the directions of the man accompanying you, except when he told you it would be best for you to sleep in his room that night.

You didn’t know why, but that set off alarms in your confused brain. The last thing you wanted was to add fuel to the fire by sleeping with another man who wasn’t your boyfriend just to protect you.

"Thanks for everything, Eddie, really, but I think it would be best if I went back to my room to sort things out with Nico."

The Brit didn’t seem to agree with you.

"Y/N, I know it’s hard, but I don’t think it’s best for you to share space with him tonight," he was honest.

"I just want to talk to him and try to put an end to this," you insisted, still knowing you weren't right.

"And I understand you, really, but right now everything is too fresh, and the best thing is for you to rest and let the drunkenness wear off," he said, placing one of your arms over his shoulders. "Come on, I’ll take you to my room."

You decided not to argue anymore because it would be in vain, so you let yourself be guided while he lectured you about how you shouldn’t be intimidated by Nico and how you deserved someone better than him after what had happened at the club that night.

"Edward, Y/N. Good night, guys."

You lifted your gaze and saw another Brit. Jenson was standing in front of you, coming out of the elevator you were about to take. You were greatly surprised that he wasn’t with his girlfriend, but didn’t want to get involved; your alcohol-soaked self, however, wanted to gossip.

"Where are you two going?" he asked, crossing his arms and blocking the elevator doors so they couldn’t pass.

"I’m... taking Y/N to my room," Eddie revealed, stammering a bit for no clear reason. "She’s had a rough time, and it’s best that she doesn’t see Nico’s face tonight."

"And you think the best thing is that you take her to your room?"

Button’s features went from relaxed to a kind of aggression you had never seen in him. It’s not like you had spent much time or had many conversations together, but you knew the situation you were now involved in wasn’t what you had thought it was.

Edward Patterson stayed completely silent.

"Do you want me to call someone to be with you?" Jenson asked you directly, giving you no other option. "Y/N," he insisted again, "who do you want me to call to stay with you tonight?"

"Britta… please," you said as best as you could despite your discomfort.

To your surprise, while Jenson dialed the phone number of the woman you now considered your friend, Eddie let go of you and reluctantly pushed the driver, still leaning against the elevator frame, to leave. He didn’t even take the time to say goodbye to you, something that seemed to upset Button quite a bit.

"Hello, is this Britta?" Jenson began, speaking into the phone. "Great, yes. It’s Jenson. I’m with Y/N, and she asked if you could help her," he started explaining. "I don’t know much about what happened, except that she’s not feeling well and needs help from someone she really trusts," he clarified.

After exchanging a few more words, Jenson led you back to the lobby, where Britta appeared just a few minutes later in a bathrobe, espadrilles, and her hair tied up in a completely unusual way. You had never seen Roeske like that, and all you could do was laugh.

"Come on, let’s go already," Britta said, linking her arm with yours as if you were two old ladies heading to bingo. "This is how I want to see you: laughing, not crying."

When Britta opened the door to her room, you immediately ran and threw yourself onto the bed. Your whole body hurt, and you weren’t sure if it was from the emotions of the night or because the alcohol was hitting its peak.

Whatever it was, you knew perfectly well that lying completely still, face up, and counting the total number of tiles on the ceiling, pointing at them one by one with one eye closed and your tongue sticking out was what was making your hostess laugh.

"Come on, Y/N, get up," Britta asked gently. "Do you mind if I help you get changed? It’s time to put on your pajamas."

You nodded as you sat up and moved to the foot of the bed.

Next, Britta unzipped the dress, and you noticed how she averted her gaze to give you some privacy while offering a nightgown.

"Right now, I’d love for Seb to be the one undressing me to fuck me. God... how I’d love Seb to make me scream now..."

Had you said that out loud?

"What did you just say?"

Britta’s muffled shout and the tone in which she asked, while turning her back without caring whether you had already put the garment on, making you realize that yes, you had said that out loud.

Your first time being drunk was going to be, definitely, a night to remember. Now, you just felt like saying those kinds of things, and you didn’t care at all about having a boyfriend… if he could even be called that.

"Oh…" you said, stretching the last syllable. "Didn’t you know it?"

"Know what?"

By the tone of voice, it seemed Britta thought it was related to the sudden thing you had said.

"Seb and I kissed," you told her, starting to laugh like a lovesick teen.

"This is the alcohol on you, I’m sure of it," Britta said, running to get a wet towel and starting to wipe it across your face. "You mean you and Nico kissed," she tried to correct you. "Seb is dating Hanna, and you’re dating Nico, remember?"

You started shaking your head constantly, about to collapse to the floor. A laugh started escaping you as you couldn’t control it.

"No, no, no, no," you denied while also wagging your finger. "Seb and I kissed. Nico’s an asshole."

"Y/N, you really should go to sleep, you’re not..."

"Of course I’m fine!" you said enthusiastically, getting up from the bed and standing in front of Britta.

The truth was that you only felt fine because of the effect alcohol was having on you. If it wasn’t for that, you would be crawling on the floor crying because you knew you had reached a point where you couldn’t pretend your life was perfect anymore.

"Do you really not believe me when I say that not only did Seb kiss me, but it was the best kiss of my life?"

You knew you were putting Britta in a tough spot, especially considering that the woman was probably closer friends with Hanna than with you.

"And Hanna?" Britta demanded to know. "Was she there, or had she left?"

"Oh, she was there?" you tried to pretend the best you could, using expressions that clearly showed otherwise. "I didn’t know..."

Before you could continue speaking, Britta ran to grab her phone and started making calls. You sat back down, crossing your legs and swaying while watching the blonde desperately cursing in German, since none of the contacts she called were answering.

It was possible that Seb and Hanna were busy, probably having sex. Your drunk self only wished she was in Hanna’s place.

"The only ones who tell the truth are kids and drunks, you know?"

Britta stared at you after those words. It seemed like you needed to say that phrase to make her believe you.

"Are you serious...?" Britta asked.

"What, Britta?" you insisted, urging her to speak.

"Did you really kiss Sebastian?"

You nodded.

"Yes," you confirmed. "Well, I mean, he was the one who took my face and kissed me," you corrected yourself. "Do I owe anyone something, like he owes Hanna?"

You were getting a bit defensive, and you knew it was making Britta nervous.

"Yes! You owe Nico, your boyfriend," Britta replied, giving you a harsh dose of reality.

"I don’t want Nico," you confessed. "At least, not in the way I think I should. He... I don’t know, Britta. I think he’s what I deserve. I try to understand why, but I know that his insults and those things he says to me make me a better person somehow."

You could see Britta go pale. Also, you were starting to feel worse; after all, it was the first time you had opened up about your feelings to someone since the journal Seb gifted you for your birthday last didn’t count as a personal therapist.

Britta usually had words for everything, but that day, you seemed to have left her speechless.

"Y/N..." Britta began, carefully choosing her words. "You’re a good person. You’re just scared."

"Maybe," you replied, trying not to make it a big deal. "And you, are you scared?"

"Of course. Everyone’s afraid of something."

"I’m afraid of being alone," you admitted, lowering your head because you were starting to cry again for the umpteenth time that day. "And I’m afraid of losing Nico. I know no one will ever love me, not better or worse, than he does."

Britta didn’t know what to say, and you felt bad for having to be in her room, drunk, sad, while your “friend” was putting up with you, possibly mediating between her client and her client’s partner.

That’s why you made a move to leave. Fortunately, Britta wouldn’t let you.

"Sit down, Y/N, and let it all out," Britta demanded.

And that’s exactly what you did. You told Britta everything, not just about what had happened since you started dating your current boyfriend, but about your entire life. Living with a mentally sick mother after her accident, her subsequent suicide, their move to Barcelona. Her father’s cancer and how it had worsened in less than two years. All the things Rosberg had said and done to you, even forcing you to do certain stuff you were clearly uncomfortable with.

You cried like you never had before when you told Britta about your first time, reluctantly, on a luxury yacht in Monaco’s seas, and how it gave you nightmares almost every night to the point where she was scared to fall asleep.

You could tell that Britta was truly worried when you started biting your lower lip, and a little tic appeared in your right eye.

"Have you talked to anyone about this?"

"Do you know I’m not Hanna, and I’ll never be her?"

You were fully aware that you had just avoided answering a crucial question, but you didn’t care at all. You were tired of talking about your burdens and your current life; from now on, you would focus entirely on your future and try to solve and finish once and for all all the problems that made your life a mess.

"But what are you saying, Y/N?" Britta asked, desperate.

"That’s exactly what I would have liked to ask Seb, but he left and Nico messed things up," you revealed, stretching your arms out and pointing to the marks, now red, that were the same shape and size as Mercedes’ driver’s fingers. "Great, yeah," you said ironically.

"But..."

"Do you think if I’m not Hanna, and I’ll never be her, I might have a chance to date Seb?"

Your question left Britta speechless again, unable to find the words. As Britta struggled to speak, you started playing with your fingers. Giving up, you laid on the bed, your back to Britta, clutching a pillow with the clear intention of falling asleep.

"Why are you telling me this?" Britta asked in a whisper, almost with... pity.

"Because I want Seb," you revealed, letting out a sob because, at last, you had been able to confront and reveal your confusing feelings for a guy who didn’t love you, and never would. "I’m in love with Seb, and it hurts knowing he’ll never love me back, and I know I’ll have to move on sooner or later."

Britta was about to speak, but you took the words from her before she could.

"Before you say anything else, take advantage of me and ask me anything you want: I’m a bit drunk because I’m not used to drinking."

You could tell Britta sighed, likely having lost all patience with you.

"You know... you know that Seb...?"

But then Britta stopped talking. You stood there for a while, staring at the red curtains that covered the window, waiting for the woman to continue. When she didn’t, you turned around:

"You know exactly what about Seb, Britta?" you asked, adjusting yourself on the bed, still hugging the pillow.

"Seb and you need to talk," Britta told you, leaving you speechless. "And when you do that, I’m convinced that you’re going to live the life you both deserve."

"But..."

Britta started to lie you down on the bed again, tucking you in under the linen sheets. Your yawns became more frequent, and after she kissed your forehead just like her mother used to do before your life was destroyed, your eyelids grew heavy.

"I know you won’t remember this tomorrow," Britta’s voice flooded your ears as you curled up into yourself. "But, to Seb, it’s more than obvious that you’re not Hanna and you’ll never be… And that’s exactly why that stupid, but incredible guy, has fallen truly, madly, deeply, in love with you."

You couldn’t tell if Britta’s words were already a dream, or if Morpheus was pulling you into his arms. 

"The day you stop doubting your worth, the world will be at your feet, Y/N. Sebastian has been telling me that and his closest people since you two spent the night together the day before his maiden win in Monza."

[octonerd]

[I can take it and put it inside of me] [if your hands need to break more than trinkets in your room ] [you can lean on my arm as you break my heart]

RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT!!!! I will only draw them beating the snot outta each other and nothing else will suffice. pls let tumblr not me flop with this <3 I always enjoy reading the silly tags ppl add to my art I wish I could like reblogs...

speed paint for those who want it! i also have silly commentary at a couple of points

[loseractivities]

"stu was with me last night" girl be for real ik he was getting pegged by u thinking about billy and u thinking about sidney😭😭😭🤦‍♂️🤦‍♂️💯

[againstme]

hello my fellow autistics. i’m asking you a question and giving you two options only sorry but i’m curious if this is just a me experience or just not liking my ex lmao:

i personally thought i would be all about smooching and making out but like. lips are slimy. and i never know what i’m doing sowwwy. 🫣 also my ex used to bite my lips, very hard. what the fuck was up with that

[necrotic-nephilim]

this is not a ship post, but something that frustrates me a lot in fanon concerning Jason Todd that attempts to soften Jason's return to Gotham for the sake of found family domesticity or easy hurt/comfort or just sliding him into the Batfam sooner, is they all seem to fundamentally misunderstand Jason.

because there seem to be a lot of fandom popular concepts of Jason coming home much sooner and just not having his whole Under The Red Hood arc. which in theory is fine and i can see the want to simplify canon to make room for your lighthearted more fluff-leaning concepts. but in everyone without fail, the way they address the clown-shaped elephant in the room is by having some throwaway line that "oh Jason quietly kills the Joker and moves on".

when the Joker being dead or alive is not the *point*. if by some chance accident, the Joker had died prior to Jason's return, whether by ridiculous freak accident, getting whacked by a fellow villain, hell even someone actually doing so to avenge Jason, it *would not* satiate Jason's anger. because Jason's end goal in UtRH is not to simply kill the Joker: it is to make *Bruce* kill the Joker. Jason's anger is directed to the idea that to Jason, if Bruce truly loved Jason, he would've killed the Joker. that is love, for Jason. compromising your personal values for love and not letting someone go unavenged. when Jason was Robin, almost every angry or misguided thing he did was born of love. he wanted to kill/hurt Two-Face because he believed Dent killed his father. he was so angry at Felipe because an innocent woman was dead due to that man's actions. he wanted to save his mother in a situation he knew he shouldn't be in because he loved her. his anger, his violence, it is driven by love and feelings of righting wrongs. that is how he thinks wrongs *should* be righted. that is how you avenge and *love* someone.

because so long as Jason's return to Gotham doesn't end in Bruce killing the Joker (which, it never will bc Bruce is Bruce), Jason will never forgive Bruce. you cannot wave away the layers of hurt and complicated trauma by killing Joker offscreen. because Jason will still be angry that Bruce didn't avenge him. in his eyes, that means Bruce did not love him enough. he was not truly loved by Bruce the way he loved Bruce. bc Bruce was Jason's whole *world*. prior to being taken in, Dick and Tim, they had support systems. they had loved ones. they knew what stability and healthy family love looked like. Jason *didn't*. and that's not to say that Catherine Todd did not love him with her whole heart and thus he loved her, but it certainly wasn't a stable and safe support system for Jason to grow up in. Bruce was Jason's first real sense of a stable, healthy life. and so of course Jason poured everything into Bruce and loved Bruce so devoutly. Bruce was his world. like he says, if it had been Bruce, Jason would've stopped at nothing.

so his betrayal is rooted in that he was not avenged, not that Joker is alive. so long as the Joker does not die by Bruce's hands, it will never be enough for Jason. (in this era, at least.) notably, this is also why i don't think it would change a thing if Jason knew the whole "oh Bruce wanted to kill the Joker but Superman stopped him" tidbit that fanon has really latched onto as a way to pacify Jason's anger toward Bruce. Jason knowing that wouldn't change a thing, in my opinion. because Jason knows Bruce. and a tenant of Bruce's character is that he grapples with murder *every day*. the whole point is how *easy* it would be for him. he is a human weapon, trained by killers, trained to be deadly. he is the greatest strategist to exist. he knows he could kill someone and get away with it. *no* trace, no proof, nothing. and he knows he *wants* to. wants to kill the Joker, Joe Chill, anyone who's hurt him that viscerally.

but he *doesn't*. that's the point. Bruce wakes up every day with that question on his mind, and every day the answer is the same. Bruce's morality is not a decision he made in an alleyway when his parents died, it's a decision he continues to make every day and he *must* continue to make in order to remain who he is. Jason is quite familiar with the fact that Bruce grapples with this daily. i do not think it surprised nor fazed Jason to know that Bruce did *consider* killing the Joker. that he wanted to. maybe even planned to. but a consideration, a want, a plan, is just a thought. it's nothing substantial, and substance is everything to Jason. at the end of the day, Bruce didn't. he was talked down by *Clark* of all people with an excuse of diplomatic immunity, as if Jason and Bruce don't both know that Bruce could've *easily* found a way to make it look like an accident or some other loophole. because he's Batman. there's always a loophole. he always finds a way when he actually intends to. but he never actually intended to kill the Joker. so he didn't. and Jason would know that there was never an intent. it's an interesting piece of fodder to add to the nuance of Jason and Bruce, but honestly, i think it'd make Jason angrier to have that excuse thrown in his face. as if Bruce hasn't beaten Clark half a dozen times by now. it's a flimsy nonsense excuse that Jason would rip to shreds.

so while yes, i understand the wish for easy lighthearted fanfic that doesn't have to deal with the nuances of canon, i think that Jason's character will always be so deeply robbed and altered if you try to fix his thirst for vengeance with an off-page killing of Joker at Jason's hands. it was never the point. the point was that -in his own eyes- he wasn't loved enough for Bruce to make an acception. he realized that not even his *death* would come before Bruce's Mission. Jason truly believed that Bruce loved him and held him as the most important thing in the world, and now he has proof that Bruce didn't. because the Mission mattered more.

i'm not saying i have a solution to this conundrum if you're attempting to solve it for fanfic/fanon, nor am i even saying it's a bad thing it exists. i just think it becoming overwhelmingly common has led to misunderstandings surrounding Jason's motivations and feelings about this arc and it's an unsatisfying solution that only seeks to pacify Jason's rage and his trauma responses for the sake of found family-ification.

[neolxzr]

i knew you'd come back (i never had any doubt)

[penwrythe]

What's stopping the possibility of a ceasefire is pretty simple. Hamas is holding 239 Israeli civilians hostage including children and the elderly. What's happening in Palestine is a travesty and horrendous. But Israel can't initiate a ceasefire from the position they're in, so we need to be agitating for Hamas to release the hostages and call for a ceasefire instead.

NO GENOCIDE IS JUSTIFIABLE

HOW DOES THE KILLING OF INNOCENT PEOPLE ON THIS EXTREME LEVEL FORCE HAMAS TO RETURN HOSTAGES??

ISRAEL'S BOMBARDMENT AND INDISCRIMINATE SHOOTING IN GAZA THREATEN EVERYONE THERE INCLUDING DOCTORS JOURNALISTS CHILDREN ENTIRE FAMILIES AND THE HOSTAGES

EVERYONE IS TARGETED

YOU HAVE HOSPITALS BOMBED HOW ANY OF THIS IS JUSTIFIED

@sarroora @fairuzfan @palipunk @wearenotjustnumbers2

You know more about this than I do.

[misswynters]

Strapped up

Sevika x afab!reader / wc: ?

WARNINGS: 18+, smut again, riding, sevika with hexcore strap (i delivered), dom! sevika & switch!reader, BITING, rough rex, mating press, teasing, misspellings?

similar writings | Brothel

also on ao3 (not yet, under doorkiluv)

a/n: sipping on my ginger tea while i wait for yalls reactions, also pls give me feedback (and don’t only just like but also reblog and comment 🫶🏼)

You thought life couldn’t get any better. Standing in the same room with sevika, with whom you shared a special relationship with. You didn’t exactly know what kind of bond you guys had, but it was one filled with pleasure and love. Which brings you back to the current moment on had, sevika leaning against her bed frame. She looked amazing as always with her powerful build as a warm glow soften the edges of her place, which stood at the heart of Zaun. Her eyes followed you, a faint smirk on her lips as she watched you approach, her usual guarded expression giving way to something more inviting, almost hungry.

"Come here," she commanded softly, her voice smooth and warm, a note of challenge woven into her words. As you climbed onto her lap, Sevika's hands settled on your waist, her fingers strong and grounding as she held you close. The slight hum of her hextech prosthetic reminded you of the power she wielded over you. You couldn't help but shiver under her touch as her gaze slowly roamed over you.

As you settled, she adjusted the strap on her hexcore, its soft glow flickering against her skin as she tilted her head, a lazy grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. She looked up at you, her eyes flickering with amusement and something deeper, a silent confidence that made you feel like she knew every reaction she could pull from you before you did. You braced yourself, anticipation thrumming through your veins as her hands tightened on your hips. The strap was long, thick and had glowy blueish veins. Just by looking at it barely inches away made you feel wild, wondering how it the world it would fit.

Sevika guided you down onto her with a firm grip, setting the pace. She filled you slowly, letting you feel every inch of her as she watched your face. The sensation was overwhelming, and you couldn't hold back a moan as you sank down. You could feel the subtle hum of her strap resonate within you. Sevika's smirk widened at your reaction, a faint chuckle escaping her as she took in every flicker of response. "Good," she murmured, her voice low and approving, fingers pressing into your hips to draw you down harder, setting a steady, demanding rhythm. "That's what I like to see... you taking all of it."

Her words made your face flush, and her hands held you tight, grounding you against her hips as she gazed down towards you. The wet, squelching sounds that your folds made filled the room, mingling with your soft moans as she urged you to keep going. Every time you tried to pull back, Sevika's grip would tighten, her gaze holding you in place. “Not so fast," she whispered, a hint of a smirk pulling at her lips. "I'm not done with you yet, we are just starting."

The intensity of her hold and the firmness of her voice left you breathless, and each time you moved, she met your rhythm with an unwavering strength, amplifying the sensations that were already overwhelming. The roughness of her hands against your hips alongside the hum of the hextech strap as she bounced you on her cock, left you trembling as you tried to keep up with her.

"Look at you," Sevika murmured, her voice a mixture of admiration and amusement as she took in your flushed cheeks and parted lips. Her eyes traced over you slowly, savoring every detail as she adjusted her grip. She placed her hands around your waist as she laced her fingers together, guiding you to a deeper angle that made you gasp. "You're something else, aren't you? Never thought you'd be able to handle all of me."

With a firm grip on your waist, Sevika shifted beneath you, her strength effortlessly flipping you over so that you were now pinned beneath her. You felt a thrill at the way she moved confidently. She loomed over you, her eyes gleaming with that familiar intensity, a mixture of dominance and affection in her gaze as she took in your flushed expression.

"You trust me, don't you?" she murmured, her voice a low, tantalizing whisper as her hands found your thighs, pushing them up toward your chest. Her grip was steady, but there was an undeniable gentleness in the way she held you, ensuring you were comfortable even as she positioned you to her liking. You barely managed a nod, but that was enough for her. With a satisfied smirk, Sevika leaned forward, planting a brief, possessive kiss on your lips before she pulled back, her gaze flicking down to where your bodies met. Her strap glowed against your wet folds as she slid it between them, you were so wet that it was completely coated with your arousal.

She shifted her hips, the intensity start to build as she pushed in deeply, her pace starting slow and measured, as if she was trying to savor each thrust. But soon enough, she picked up speed, finding a pace that left you gasping, your hands clutching onto her thick biceps as she began to push into you with a force that sent shivers through you. The bed creaked beneath you, the sound punctuating each movement. However you hardly noticed, too lost in the sensation as she pushed you closer to the edge with each rapid thrust.

As Sevika held your legs pressed up to your chest, driving into you with that unrelenting rhythm, you felt yourself unraveling under her touch. The wet, slick noises filled the room, each thrust punctuated by the steady creaking of the bed. The overwhelming sensations left you clinging to her shoulders, your voice breaking into desperate, pleading gasps. "Sevika, please," you whispered, nearly breathless, your hands gripping her broad shoulders, digging in with every surge of pleasure. "Don't stop... please, just like that... harder."

A wicked smirk crossed her face as she caught the raw desperation in your voice. "So needy," she murmured, her tone thick with satisfaction. "Look at you, begging for more. You want me to ruin you, don't you?" Sevika's hands tightened on your thighs, spreading your thighs further open as she drove into you with powerful thrusts. Her gaze never leaving your face as she took in every reaction, every shiver and gasp.

You nodded, too caught up to feel anything but the sheer need flooding through you. "Yes... please," you gasped, almost incoherent as she picked up the pace, pushing deeper and harder. Your thighs shook under her iron grip, pinned against your chest, each thrust sending a surge of sensation that left you on the edge of surrender.

Driven by the intensity, you instinctively leaned forward and bit down on her shoulder, desperate to ground yourself through the torrent of pleasure. Sevika froze for a heartbeat, her breath catching, and then she let out a deep, approving growl, her gaze dark and delighted as she felt the imprint of your teeth. "Oh, you like it rough, huh?" she murmured, her voice a husky whisper as she gazed down at you. "Good. Hold on tight, then."

Instead of slowing, she surged forward, her pace turning rapid, unyielding, her thrusts deep and forceful, spurred on by the way you clung to her. "Bite me all you want," she encouraged, her voice sultry, almost daring. "I want to hear how much you need this."

"Sevika, please-don't stop," you begged, your voice breaking into soft cries as the bed protested under her relentless rhythm, creaking with each thrust that left you gasping. "I... I need more, please... harder."

She chuckled, her fingers gripping your thighs even tighter, pressing them to your chest as she drove into you with renewed fervor, clearly enjoying every sound that escaped your lips. "Oh, you're not getting off easy," she taunted, her voice rough with pleasure. "I'm not stopping until you're completely spent... until you're begging for mercy."

Each thrust sent shockwaves through your body, drawing helpless cries from your lips that only seemed to spur her on. Her gaze flicked down between you, and a wicked grin crept onto her face as she noticed the slick, glistening mess where you were connected, a white ring forming with each deep push. "Look at this," she murmured, her voice thick with pride. "Look at the mess you're making for me."

Her words sent a shiver through you, heightening the need coursing through your veins, and you clung to her even tighter, breathless, pleading. "Please, Sevika... I can't... I can't take much more."

"There you go," she whispered, her voice a mixture of praise and satisfaction as she watched you unravel beneath her. "Taking my cock so well... just like I knew you would." Her words sent a thrill through you, and you felt yourself clench around her, your breath hitching as she continued to move with unyielding precision. Her pace only grew, each thrust bringing a fresh wave of pleasure that left you breathless, your body arching up into her as you felt the pressure building to an overwhelming peak. She noticed, of course-she noticed everything-and her smirk widened as she leaned down, her mouth brushing against your ear as she murmured, "Relax."

The way she spoke, commanding yet tender, was enough to send you over the edge. You felt yourself shudder beneath her, your release leaving a mess between you both, soaking the sheets and intensifying the slick sounds with each movement. Sevika slowed only slightly, savoring the way you trembled beneath her, her gaze filled with a rare softness as she held you close, letting the softness of the moment sink in.

As the aftermath of the moment settled over you both, Sevika shifted back just enough to look down, a smirk slowly curling at the corners of her mouth. She took in the scene beneath her the sheets soaked and rumpled, your flushed face, and the way your body still trembled slightly from the intensity of it all.

"What a mess," she murmured, a teasing glint in her eyes as she caressed her thumb along your thigh, feeling the warmth that lingered there. "Didn't know you had it in you." Her tone was low, playful, and laced with that familiar, effortless confidence. "You really couldn't hold back, could you?"

"Maybe... maybe I wouldn't have made such a mess if you hadn't been so relentless," you shot back, meeting her gaze with a playful glint of your own, though the flush on your cheeks betrayed just how affected you still were. "Besides... I think you enjoyed it just as much."

Sevika let out a low, approving chuckle, her fingers still lazily tracing over your thigh. "Oh, I enjoyed every second," she replied, leaning down until her lips brushed against the shell of your ear.

"And don't think I didn't notice how you were clinging to me, begging for more." You bit your lip, her words making your heart race again. "You're the one who kept pushing me. I... I could barely keep up," you admitted, voice soft yet tinged with playful defiance. "You make it impossible to resist."

Sevika's smirk deepened, her thumb stroking along your jawline as she took in every detail of your expression. “Good," she teased. "I want you like this-completely undone, messy, all because of me."

You shivered under her gaze, but you found yourself smiling, a bit of daring creeping into your voice. "Then maybe... next time, you should try to keep up with me."

Her brows lifted, clearly intrigued by the challenge, and her smirk softened into something warmer, more intimate. "Oh, I'm looking forward to it."

to be continued…

taglist: @i02elss @diffusebread @tsukiroe @iamastar @angel4youu @fict1onallyobsessed @blckbny @littlyamadeus @sum0y @girln1ghtm4re @kissyslut @jayden-prentiss @poppyluvsworld @averysmallfox @cacston @indigospinels @bakugous-titties @yer-boiiii @sevikitty @marinayadayada @urnewghostfriend @sincerely-forest @thefulcrumfiles @srtctra @themostlesbianever @ittiwdwysylm @xxblairslairxx @invadergir45 @wokensiren @thesevi0lentdelights @fizzyypopp @k2-p @idk2anym @lucidtobio @mvistl @vampthrobbb @theresascove @trulycarini @her-gayness @savethegoddamturtles @isabelly7801 @atinytrashcan @abbyssgf @maneskinwh0re @lovebbpotato @morphids @missevillyn @sevyscoven @elsbunny

banner: @cafekitsune

[sweetgaleria]

Help a college student graduate by answering a survey!!

Hey!! Are you over 18 and in the miraculous fandom? Then this is for you!!

Hi everyone, this is my last semester of uni, and one of my final projects to be able to graduate is to write a scientific paper. I'm writing an article about adult fans of children's animation, specifically Miraculous Ladybug. My goal is to understand what makes adults (like us) want to join fandoms centered around shows aimed primarily at children, and to do that I'd love to hear directly from the source! The survey takes around 10 minutes to answer, it's 100% anonymous and it would help me immensely!

>>Click here for the survey<<

I need at least 30 people to answer, but honestly the more the merrier! I've also made a little thank you gif at the end, so if you see it let me know! If you have any questions feel free to send me an ask, as well!

Please reblog so it can reach more people! Thank you so much!

[spaciebabie]

"but spacie, i have no followers why should i reblog things" let me answer this question using myself, a person who has been using tumblr for almost a decade now, as an example. pre 2022 the most followers i ever had was like 125. most of them were dead blogs. killed in the porn ban or just people who had left for whatever reason. out of the people left who were still active, i had like 3 people at the most interact with my blog on a monthly basis. for years b4 this, i had ZERO FOLLOWERS but upon making my blog i saw all the other ppl who had been using this website longer than me talking abt how important it was ta reblog shit, and throughout all these years on tumblr, even when i had no followers i reblogged things. b/c i understood that it was integral ta the way this site functions.

now mind you, just b/c i had no followers didn't mean ppl wouldn't stop by and reblog things from my blog. every couple months id have a new person find me and reblog something. maybe they'd reblog a lot of stuff! the point is that id go months without any interaction at times and i STILL reblogged things because i knew people could find me and see something they liked on here. eventually people who frequently checked my blog ta see what i would reblog followed me!! im sure there’s ppl who dont follow me that ta this day who still reblog the stuff on here!! the point is that it genuinely doesnt matter how many followers you have. sure, it certainly helps, but ppl can still find and interact with the things on your blog without you having thousands or even hundreds of followers. so PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE reblog things.

[s0ft-karina]

🔆 🔆 🔆

[hella1975]

it’s so cool that you’re going backpacking I’ve always wanted to do that! do you have any pictures or tips for ppl who want to go?

giving an early twenties gap year girlie a free pass to talk about when she backpacked europe is a DANGEROUS thing yes i will gladly talk in detail at length about it thank you so much. hold my hand. you're not going anywhere. stop struggling.

my europe trip!!!

so we did 11 cities in 9 countries in 28 days (france, belgium, germany, netherlands, czech, slovenia, hungary, austria, italy) staying at least one night in all of them except germany because THAT COUNTRY WANTS ME DEAD. here are some tips for people wanting to do something similar:

the official interrail pass is a LIFESAVER we literally paid ~£240 for a global 7 day pass and it meant we got over a dozen trains that individually would have all been £100+ like you save a STUPID amount of money

you don't have to book all your accom in advance. we booked for the first 2 weeks which was good bc we were still finding our feet and it made it less stressful, but for the last 2 weeks we would book accom literally as we got the train to the place in question and it made it much more flexible bc if we liked a place we'd just stay there another night

hostelworld is a really good app for this, very affordable while still being legit

BUY YOUR OWN PADLOCK! a lot of hostels have lockers to put your things in but will charge extra for a padlock to keep it secure

imo seat reservations on trains are generally a waste of money. take this tip w a pinch of salt bc i travelled in the non-tourist season, but we always managed to get seats on trains no matter how busy it was and booking seat reservations (the single time we did it) led to us wasting about 15 euros each to sit in different carriages, and then we were delayed and missed the 2nd train so didn't even get our booked seats AT ALL and we decided from then on to just firm it and not reserve any and honestly we were totally fine

look into the public transport of the specific place you're in beforehand. it is 100% better to utilise the public transport over getting taxis or walking everywhere but a lot of people get intimidated and waste the fact that most european countries have amazing public transport. the only thing i will say is to just check how people get tickets, if it's tap-on tap-off (a majority are), if it's paper tickets then where to validate them etc etc

if you're a female or female presenting solo traveller then at all times of year this is a VERY COMMON THING and is generally very safe. every hostel offers female only dorms and a lot of other travellers are very chatty, so it's easy to make friends or at least make sure people Know You're There. i had a couple instances of being the only girl in a 12 bed mixed dorm which made me very very antsy, but i was travelling with a man and i always made an effort to seek out any other girls in a hostel and ensure we all checked on each other

don't leave anything out in a hostel unless you're okay with losing it 😭 i thought i'd be okay bc im so paranoid i refused to leave ANYTHING out when i wasn't in the room and some fucker STILL took my goddamn sliders of all things

portable chargers, making sure you have the right adapter, charging your phone at any opportunity etc etc. the last thing you want is a dead phone. it's my mantra when travelling ANYWHERE that as long as i still had my passport and my phone then everything else could work itself out and that's coming from someone whose CARD GOT SHREDDED IN VIENNA AND GENERALLY HAS CARTOONISHLY ROTTEN LUCK WHEN ABROAD. ALWAYS be vigilant about these two things

do the tourist things! go to the famous sights! i mean this so seriously! but also try find little hole in the wall spots too! my highlights of the trip are very traditional things like the colosseum and the eiffel tower and lake bled etc etc we even did a couple big bus tours that were really fun but then i also have the time we went drinking w locals in zaandam and wound up dancing in this really random bar we never would have found otherwise or the restaurant we found in paris hidden behind a whole other building where they sat strangers on the same table and we got a 3 course meal and a bottle of wine for 20 euros like try get a good mix of Known Sights and Hidden Gems

skincare products will be a godsend after one 11 hour train journey too many fr keep some moisturiser on you at all times 😭

on that note also, you'll figure this out as you go but try pack your bag tactically bc there's nothing worse than being 5 hours deep into a train ride and realising you Desperately Want something that you know is right at the bottom of your massive fuck off backpack

i know i said i swear by hostelworld but SOMETIMES hostels work out more expensive than some shitty hotel or an airbnb so make sure to check ALL accomodation options. our last stop of the trip was 4 nights in rome and it wound up being significantly cheaper for us to stay in a 2* hotel right in the middle of the city than it was to get any of the hostels that would have put us on the outskirts

final tip is if this is truly something you want to do then START PLANNING!!! backpacking is a super affordable way of seeing a lot of beautiful countries in one go. it really didn't take me as long as i thought it would to save for this and i'd say if you're being really disciplined you can do the whole thing (the WHOLE thing like travel, accom and spending) for just £1k. i also think staying in hostels and getting trains and lugging a big bag around is actually much more rewarding than doing it a fancy way. like it forces you to interact with the country you're in and that doesn't always happen if you just get fancy hotels. go go go!

here are some of my fav pics!!! tho i am not good at taking pics so bear with also 10 pic limit so ill reblog with more bc i took hundreds

paris:

brussels:

köln:

prague:

[deathianartworks]

Eva <3

[starlyte-writes]

Okay, I have a theoretical dsmp story idea in my head but idk if it's too far out there/confusing/complicated so I'm curious what do y'all think:

Basic concept (which it's hard to explain but hear me out) is that all of the characters of the dsmp are transported to a massive arena by XD. Each of them wakes up in a separate room, and when they do, they find they're not alone but are accompanied by a stranger who seems to vaguely/strongly recognize them. It's revealed that XD has selected one person from Earth that closest matches the personality of each dsmp member to become a team that will compete in a series of challenges broadcasted to the whole world.

To put it even more simply: each character is paired with a dsmp nerd that matches their energy whether they like it or not and I have an excuse to make a crazy Hunger Games-esque competition while simultaneously analyzing what makes every dsmp character unique.

Does this sound cool or do I sound absolutely insane (pls feel free to ask me questions or throw out suggestions this is a very rough idea as of rn)