#i'm tired but genuinely optimistic

[neverendingford]

.

[iniquitousyearning]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S RIDDLEMAS

dec 10th. tom riddle — oral sex, experienced!tom.

RIDDLEMAS MASTERLIST. I 2024

summary: your ex couldn’t make you orgasm, so you were certain you were broken. tom shows you just how wrong you are.

warnings: 18+, SMUTTT MDNI, tom riddle can eat me aliv—sorry who tf said that?, tom riddle is such a realist; he sees a problem and he finds a solution, tom is a munch, praise kink, oral f!receiving, experienced tom, hufflepuff!reader.

Months pass, and your project remains the only thing Tom ever prioritizes when it's you asking.

Progress is slow—slow because you're usually far too busy talking to actually focus—yet, he always stays. He listens, even when the things you say should bore him, even when they mean nothing at all. He sits there—giving you hardly the barest scraps of himself in return as you fill the space between you with everything that crosses your mind.

Things he'd never waste a second hearing from anyone else.

And tonight, to no-one's surprise, you're doing it again—rambling on about nothing and everything all at once. You've got this way of talking—weaving tangents into something almost poetic, and usually, he lets it fade into the background as he works. You're saying something about the differences between the seasons, or maybe it's just some other kind of sentimental nonsense—at this point, he's not entirely sure.

It's easy to tune out. He tells himself he's not really listening.

Until—

"Actually, I guess I should clarify that—it's all hypothetical. I don't date," he doesn't know what you said before this, but he's certainly intrigued by it now. "And really, it has nothing to do with like, self esteem or anything, I'm just broken. Best to save someone the trouble."

That stops him cold. It's not so much the declaration that you don't date—he could have guessed that himself—but more so the way you've just called yourself broken.

It's not a word he's ever heard you use before.

"What do you mean, broken?" He asks, the question coming out far more blunt than he probably intended.

It just seems so out of character for you—you've always been an optimist, far too annoyingly positive to speak of anything this way. He blinks when you freeze, and blinks again when a moment of self consciousness seems to pass over your face—and he notes how that's a first for you, too.

"Broken...as in, uh, not normal," your eyes flit down to your lap, tracing the wood beneath where you're seated on the floor in his dorm. "My ex made that very clear in his assessment of me."

The mention of an ex is something he'd been anticipating—you're in your twenties, after all—but it's the idea that your ex is the source of you calling yourself broken, that he can't quite swallow.

"You're 'broken' because of one ex?" He says, and he can't stop how derisive and skeptical his voice sounds. He doesn't care to try. "I'm not following."

"I'm what you'd call, damaged goods, I think," you murmur, and there's an almost self-deprecating smirk on your face. He can't help but think how he's never seen that look on you, either. "I've got a slew of unhealthy baggage that comes along with me. You know, childhood traumas, abandonment issues, daddy issues—"

He snorts at that—daddy issues—and your head snaps up, smirk deepening despite yourself.

"Don't snort at my daddy issues," you huff, and there's a familiar annoyance in your voice that puts him at ease. "They're valid and real."

"I'm not denying their validity," he counters, his own smirk beginning to surface. "But daddy issues? Come on. You're not some tired cliché ripped out of a teenage romance novel. I refuse to accept your declaration of brokenness until you give me factual reasoning."

You laugh at that—alive and genuine—and for a moment, he's reminded of why he even tolerates you in his space at all.

"Fine," you cross your arms over your chest. "What do you want to know then?"

He makes a low, contemplative sound at that—because there's a million questions that come to mind with the words damaged goods—and after a moment, he settles on the one that falls out first.

"What is it, precisely, that makes you broken?"

You sigh, a bit theatrically—he knows you're just putting on a show and he wants to laugh at you for it—but he reigns that in, for now, while you figure out how you're going to respond to that.

The truth is, you don't know how to tell him the real reason you're broken—the part that has nothing to do with the laundry list of emotional baggage you could rattle off with ease. It's something...different.

Something more physical.

"I don't know, okay?" You're getting defensive. You're not sure why but you are. "Just—forget I said anything. We have this assignment to—"

"You dodging the question tells me it's more than just psychological," he cuts you off, leaning back into the couch. The way he's looking at you makes it clear—there's no way he's letting this go. "You getting defensive tells me you're embarrassed by it."

You sigh again, leaning back on your palms to mirror his body language, though it doesn't feel half as natural on you as it does on him.

"And you, being an insufferable arse, is telling me I never should have mentioned it in the first place."

His smirk at that makes you want to glare at him.

"Stop dodging," he says. "You brought it up. You don't get to take it back."

It's a challenge—the gleam in his eyes is practically screaming so. You're not sure why the sight of it makes something low in your stomach clench, and you're even less sure of why you want to tell him something like this—something you haven't told anyone else—not friends, certainly not family.

Whatever the reasoning, you can feel yourself relent.

"Maybe," you pause, the look on his face makes you second guess yourself. "...maybe I don't want to tell you because I'm afraid you'll look at me differently." You glance down at your lap, fingers twitching against the yellow pleats of your skirt before finally meeting his eyes again. "And I kind of like the way you look at me now."

Something like curiosity passes over his expression at that—but it's quickly hidden by the type of skepticism that tells you he still doesn't believe you're being serious.

"You're overthinking it," he replies, unmoving. "Whatever it is you think you're going to tell me, I'm not going to look at you differently. You're still you—no filter, unabashedly verbal—"

"Too verbal. Too positive, too loud," you finish his sentence for him—because you know that's how he thinks of you. "Too annoyingly optimistic. Far too hufflepuff for your cold snake skin. I know."

"Exactly," he says, tongue running over his bottom lip in attempt to quell his smirk. "So I reiterate. There's nothing you could tell me that would change that."

"Fine," you relent, giving in begrudgingly because you know there's no other option. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

He just lifts a hand at that, as if to say; whatever you think it is, I can handle it. The action makes you suck a breath into your lungs, trapping it there.

"You're right," you say after a long exhale. "I have a slew of psychological bullshit that would take the span of a year for me to fully go over in one sitting—but, I'm fine with it. That's...that's not the thing that made me call myself broken."

He says nothing, just makes a motion with his eyes for you to keep going.

"It's, uhm...physical." You whisper, and your brain is moving too much and too fast and you're not even completely sure how to say it without sounding insane. "And...I don't know, I just...I can't orgasm. No matter what. I just can't—it's frustrating and embarrassing and it's the reason my ex ended things."

There's a silence that follows, and he knows if it were anyone else, they'd probably find a way to comfort you. Reassure you. Tom, however, isn't anyone else—

"You're joking," he says, and his tone is incredulous again.

A self-depreciating laugh leaves your lips involuntarily, the sound of it making you almost want to cringe.

"Would it be less embarrassing if I was?"

He's still just watching you, dissecting your words as if waiting for you to crack a smile and confess this was all some stupid joke—and the vulnerability of it aches like a stab to the gut.

"This is the reason you think you're broken?" Is what he goes with when he finally realizes you're being serious. "Because you haven’t orgasmed?"

The bluntness of it makes you flush, makes you wish you could sink into the floor. "I know it's not normal, okay—"

"It's not an abnormality, either," he asserts, with casualty. "You might just have a disconnect."

You blink, caught off guard—not just by his choice of words, but by how matter-of-fact he sounds, like this isn't the mortifying confession it feels like.

"A disconnect?"

"A disconnect," he repeats, looking you over, something clinical slipping into his eyes. "Between mind and body. And considering how loud your thoughts are—"

"Hey—" you snap, suddenly feeling a bit indignant, but he just continues on.

"—it's not surprising that you can't get out of your own head."

You open your mouth to argue, to tell him he's not a therapist, so what the hell does he know? But the certainty in his expression makes you pause. He doesn't look patronizing or condescending, just...assured. Like he knows exactly what he's talking about.

You hesitate, lips parting, a protest forming on your tongue. Before you can say anything, though, he raises a hand to stop you.

"Come here," he says, standing up from the couch.

You blink, trying to decipher what the hell he's implying—because if anything, the last thing that's going to make you less paranoid about intimacy is proximity.

"What?"

He just looks at you, making a motion with two fingers, beckoning you to stand.

"Don't ask questions. Just come here."

It's an order, and it makes your spine tingle in a way that's definitely not comfortable—but you get up from the floor, and move closer to him anyway, closing the distance between you with only a few steps until you're close enough to him that you can practically feel the heat that seems to come off him in waves.

It's weird—he's suddenly too much all at once—you're so much more aware of him being in front of you than you think you've ever been before and it does not help that he's just looking at you—as if studying you—blinking only once as he raises those same two fingers to your neck, resting them against the pulse point at your throat.

Your entire body tenses. His touch is far more gentle than you ever imagined it being, something disarming that makes your pulse beat faster against his fingers as a result—and because this is Tom, with all his smug and certainty—he gives you a look that tells you he can feel it before he slides his fingers up to rest on your forehead.

You scowl at the motion, but he clicks his tongue, the sound as condescending as it is amused.

"I told you, you're an overthinker." He murmurs, eyes dipping to your lips. "Too much noise."

You want to refute that—mostly because you're not overthinking, you can't be—he's just so unequivocally overwhelming—

"I'm not—"

You start, but he moves his fingers from your forehead and places them against your lips—

"Quiet." He scolds, and that makes something low in your stomach clench. "Your body knows what to do. You're just letting your thoughts get in the way."

You long to protest again, just for the sake of defiance—but then his fingers are against your collarbone, and that motion in your stomach becomes a bit more of a squirm—

"Your body is trying to tell you something," he whispers, watching each little hitch in your breath. "But you're too busy talking over it to hear what it's saying."

You realize—with a sort of horror that's laced with something a little more uncomfortable—that he's right. Your body is trying to say something. It's communicating through the unsteady force of your breaths, through the clench of your fists against your skirt—

Of course, he notices. He's noticing far too much.

"Relax," he murmurs, and now he's trailing those same two fingers in an unhurried path down your shoulder. You suddenly regret every decision that led to you wearing a T-shirt. "I'm not going to bite you."

Something about the way he says it makes you wish he wasn't quite so convincing—the familiar banter you long for gone with the sharp exhale that comes out of your mouth as his fingers encircle your wrist—

"Your pulse is racing," he says casually, far too casually for how much effort it's taking you not to scream. "Does that seem broken to you?"

Gods—you want to respond—you really, really do��� but your thoughts flatline when you realize his touch has shifted. He's no longer just holding your wrist; he's guiding your hands to rest against his chest, and—

"There you go," he whispers, and the tone of it tells you he knows exactly what it is he's doing to you. "See? Your body's doing exactly what it's meant to do. You—" his fingers trail up your arms, and his voice gets lower. "—are not broken."

You swallow hard, acutely aware of your hands on his chest and the way your palms are clammy against the fabric of his shirt. He's shifting you now, deliberately crowding you, and it's only when you feel the edge of the couch press against the back of your calves that you realize—perhaps a second too late—exactly what it is he's doing.

You stumble back onto the leather, and he follows—crushing his lips to yours.

You gasp, startled, because despite everything you truly hadn't seen this coming. The kiss is messy, clumsy, and his hand finds the nape of your neck, tugging at your hair with just enough force to make it sting. And inevitably, when you gasp again, he takes it as an invitation to work his tongue into your mouth, other hand slipping under your shirt—trailing up your stomach.

You're trembling now, and he makes a low sound at the realization. Your brain is racing to catch up, and the irony of this isn't lost on you—he'd just claimed you weren't broken, but he might as well be destroying you himself.

He parts from your lips only to trail his own across your jaw—

"You're shaking," he murmurs with a smirk against your throat—as if he's taking immense pleasure in the fact—you hate how smug it makes him sound. "Do you want me to stop?"

You want to tell him he's being a bastard, but then his lips press to that spot on your neck—the one that makes your breath hitch and your pulse stutter—and you find yourself whimpering at the sensation.

"No," you breathe, and you'd be embarrassed by the pleading tone in your voice if you weren't so lost in the moment. "Don't stop."

He makes another low, satisfied noise at that.

"Good," he whispers. "No thinking. Just feel."

You swallow—throat dry. It's unfair how easily he's dismantling you with nothing but his mouth and hands. Unfair how he's leaving you breathless and unraveling while somehow making you feel seen in a way you can't explain, even with your eyes shut.

"Tom," you find yourself whimpering, and you aren't even sure what you're asking for—you just know you want more as his lips trail lower—as his fingers work to tug down your skirt. "Gods."

"Shh. Feel me," he murmurs, almost possessively, his lips brushing lower, grazing over your stomach, then your pelvis. "Let your body do the talking."

You've got your hands tangled in his hair before you even know what you're doing, and you hate the fact that you're pretty sure you'd melt into a puddle if he weren't holding you together.

"I feel you," you whimper as he kisses lower. "You're all I feel."

He makes another low sound at that, and you just know it's the response of ‘yeah, that’s right’—but then he's between your legs, panties shifted out of the way, and the first sweep of his tongue against your clit makes all coherent thought shift to static.

"Oh! God," you gasp, the word barely escaping before dissolving into a whimper when he does something with his tongue that makes your vision blur. "Tom—oh, fuck."

He just makes that smug, satisfied noise against you again before his tongue swirls over your clit and you find yourself almost cursing whatever deity made him so good at this, because it's not fair how quickly he reduced you to a whimpering, shaking mess beneath him and—

"Don't stop," you find yourself babbling, digging your nails into his scalp and knowing you look like a goddamn wreck as he makes a meal out of you—tongue lapping up your slick and swirling your clit before sealing his lips around it and forcing your back off the leather beneath it. "Please, don't stop, please—"

It's all you can manage to say. Your thighs are shaking now, and you're sure he's got you dripping all over his face with how soaked you are. He knows you're falling apart and he just keeps going— your brain ceasing function in favour of just focusing on how fucking close you are—how close you are to something you've never felt before in your life—and you're not even sure what you're begging for anymore but it's incoherent and loud—

"I need—" you whimper, your hands tightening in his hair, pulling just enough to make him groan against you. You don't know what you're asking for, but you know he has it. "I need—I need—“

"Let go," he murmurs against you, the roughness in it vibrating up into your belly. "I dare you."

There's still a little bit of you functioning on autopilot, just enough to tell you that when he murmurs those words—vibrations rattling up your cunt and into your chest—you're completely done for.

It’s merely a few seconds later that your high reaches its peak and he just keeps lapping as you shake apart beneath him with an intensity you've never felt before in your life—orgasm shredding you apart at the seams. Your thighs clamp around his face, your eyes squeezed shut, ears ringing so loud you barely register his low, muttered praises: "good girl," "so good," "there you go."

You’re fairly positive your legs will never be able to support you again when you finally come back down, feeling entirely like jelly as he pulls back, tongue flicking over his lips to clean off whatever's left of you.

And without thinking, you grab him and pull him up, crashing your lips against his in a messy, desperate kiss. He tastes like you, like him, like something you can't quite describe—and it makes everything feel intense and unbearably real all at once.

He gives you a moment, as if letting you recover, just languidly kissing you back—and you have to be honest with yourself and admit that this kind of makes you want to scream.

"A disconnect," he smirks against your mouth, the tone still smug. You manage a weak smack to his shoulder, though it does nothing to wipe the satisfaction off his face. "Still sure you're broken?"

You hate that he's right. Hate that he's managed to pull a reaction from you that you didn't think was possible. But as you sit there, shaky and spent, you know you can't deny the truth: no, you're not broken.

"Not broken." You whisper back. "You will be though, if you don't stop smirking at me like that."

[winterchestnut]

Pardon the SOBBING.

Someone on love and deepspace twitter mentioned that "Caleb is for the only child daughters," but they also included eldest daughters.

Caleb is for the ones that grew up with no one to rely on, who grew up and matured too fast, and ALONE.

As a guy who had lots of half-siblings (one of my parents decided to have too many kids *bombastic side eye*) and never grew up with any of them, BUT I was considered the most mature out of my cousins and subsequently had to take care of them when my older teenage cousins and the adults decided to fuck around and abandon us, that hit hard. Like

"Wdym, Caleb is openly giving me someone to rely on? Who's practically BEGGING me to call him when I need something or someone?¿?¿¿ When it's my turn to ask for help after years of "I dunno, you figure it out." Now, it's my turn to be sheltered and taken care of by someone who has been in love and obsessed with me since we were kids?¿¿?" Bc, I Am Tired. Like, "Sorry, mom and dad I'm not the perfect Asian child that wanted to become a doctor."

This bitch even notices when we have a little booboo on our finger. From a photograph.

I know I'm laughing and joking around with Caleb's whole lowkey yandere🤪theme, but I wish someone irl were this forward and caring for me.

And one more thing, someone responded to me that they like to immerse themself into MC and that they feel like they can "be themselves" with Caleb (bc MC very much has her own personality and she acts slightly different with each LI), compared to with the other LI's where they felt like they need to be more badass, more clever, more snarky. And I felt that. I like Rafayel, but I'm genuinely not an optimistic person who can keep up with him. I like Sylus, but sometimes I don't want to "handle it" and be MORE than who I am now. I like Zayne and Xavier, but I wholly understand that I am a toxic person and they don't deserve to take the brunt of my mental health.

Edit: I have to mention it, or else people will get the wrong idea, apparently. It's blatantly obvious each love interest supports and loves MC no matter what–that should be an unspoken law in LaDS. What I didn't say is "Sylus Never supports or helps MC."

[yanmuffins]

asks 2.

context.

here are some more asks i'm replying to in a bulk about phineas and ferb reader!!

my favorite part in dc. vs vampires is when reader comes together with damian and damian to build a silly machine that un-vampifies people in like half a day so they can defeat the vampire king. it is canon.

@amethystjellyfish

perry really is reader's number #1 stan. they're his family, reader's had him since he was a small platypus baby!

he does his best to keep reader safe, which is why he doesn't like the batfam much. he keeps it professional on the rare occasions they go on missions together, but that's it. he hates how dismissive of reader they are in the beginning, and he hates them later on when they star showering them with attention because they found out about their inventions.

not tired, anon! i love seeing people enjoy my concepts and interact with them!! ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

and i'm sure this has happened. more than once, actually. the power of coincidence is strong with reader. the life-saving laser beam comes from a situation involving reader's latest machine they built and tested with the help of jon.

unfortunately, one of his lasers richochets on the machine during testing, not only causing it to save batfamily's life, caught in a dangerous situation in a completely different location, but also destroys the machine so there's nothing to link it to reader.

ah, well. they'll just have to keep looking.

reader, seeing them run past her: oh! there's perry :)

i love how we have established tim is terrified of this platypus. nevermind the other pets in the manor, it's the platypus with its googly eyes that drives him insane. they don't get it, he got up to drink water at 3 a.m. and the thing was just there, looking at him. menacingly.

jason would though. meanwhile, perry is wishing he could just go back to metropolis. he didn't have to deal with reader's siblings in metropolis. he doesn't get enough hazard pay for this.

hm... good question!

i like to think that, much like with phineas and ferb, luck is on reader's side most of the time, so i don't see reader getting injured by their own inventions.

but, let's suppose they do: it's a nice sunday afternoon, the batfam has decided to gather around the living room and hang out, watch a movie, lots of popcorn and soda. they don't have to think about criminals or fighting, tim and damian are bickering, jason is around, peace reigns the manor.

until they hear an explosion. they run to the garage only to find reader on the floor, unconscious, bleeding, and an assortment of destroyed metal components to a machine they can't decipher. damian doesn't even feel good about reader finally being busted.

later, when reader is back home, awake and out of risk but with a bandage around their head and their leg in a cast, they're in for the biggest (and probably first) scolding of their entire lives. reader tries to play it off. it wasn't that big of a deal, they're fine, aren't they? and they're genuinely optimistic about it. but the entire family is talking over each other at first, until bruce signals for everyone to shut up and leave the room. he has a very serious talk with reader, and makes it very clear they're not to come near a toolbox ever again.

but he understands. it's partly his fault for not being attentive. he won't make that mistake again.

ofc reader is really upset. dick comes next, then stephanie, then cass, then duke, then barbara and they all try to convince reader in a much more amiable tone that hey, it's fine. who needs to do all that whacky stuff to have fun? just hang out with us. they can get another hobby, and this time they can make it a family thing! how's that sound? not fun? don't be like that... they're sure reader will come around.

tim is pretty much the only one who congratulates them for being awesome pulling all those stunts, one per day, it's impressive. but now it's time to step back a bit. who knows? try being careful and bruce will let you work with a welding tool again. one day. maybe.

damian and jason's reactions are more similar to bruce's. in other circumstances, damian is on reader's side and helps them sneak around to continue their shenanigans, but in the case of reader getting hurt he just wants them to not do that. any of that. ever again. and jason has to hold himself back not to snap and ask them what the hell were they thinking?! they could have died! he ends up just telling them to quit it. they're just a kid who shouldn't be messing around with that sort of stuff.

anon, i wouldn't go as far as say he'd use venom against them, but he's bit batfam before. as stated, he does not dig their vibe at all!

anon, that's a great idea! though i think p&f! reader is much too motivated by the creative process and experience that their inventions bring more than just willing them to come to life.

they have the power to create whatever they want, but what's the fun of it? what about hte process? the building? the friends they make along the way? the memories? i think reader would find the ring awesome at first, but the novelty would wear of in less than a week.

anon...

because i dig the idea of reader being friends with dipper and mabel. reader talks about their crazy inventions, and loves hearing about all the cryptids they came across during vacation.

reader invites the twins to the manor, they share their most recent summer memories. reader talks about that one time they built and drove a massive monster truck with their brother damian, but jason only comes into the room in time to hear about dipper and mable talk about the weirdmaggedon. he has several question marks around his head. aren't those kids a a little too old to be making shit up? or maybe... no, there's no way. or is there? no... he would have heard about this... but weirder things have happened. but what if...

@randomlyappearingartist

you are so right. to be honest, i don't even think the batfam would even know of his existence, since he's pretty much a very minor villain acting in metropolis. after perry joins the league, or in the rare occasion of dr. doof teaming up with another minor gotham villian like condiment man, is when they get to know he exists.

and since perry seems to have him under control, they don't even acknowledge the guy.

i love love love this sm!

they assume it's just flash mobs. it's got to be. flash mobs with really weird themes, like an entire musical number dedicated to the squirrels in damian's pants. that was strange. bruce patrolling in the middle of the night and this new crime lord just burst into a song with a band and hired back dancers, because it's apparently a new trend a minor villain in metropolis started.

and what about that one time dick took damian (and reader) to the library and some guy just started singing about how he doesn't have rhythm? and damian just started playing a trumpet? and reader started singing? i mean, it was a bop and he started dancing, but it was weird anyway.

but now i'm thinking of damian and reader singing the "summer" song together (he sings the "it's noticeably warmer" and that's it) though! wholesome.

@lazyandannoyng

not annoying at all! you're good ⸜(˙꒳���˙ )

i have this little idea in my head that reader doesn't take the wayne name when find out bruce is their dad and move to gotham, and bruce is pretty secretive about this new kid of his for purely privacy and safety reasons. so when reader does their networking, it's often not obvious they're a wayne. not sure if this will make it into the fic, but it really resonates with this concept!

it's also funny to think that a lot of people don't even know reader and the waynes are related. even if they do know reader is related to the batfam, nobody really talks about them by name (just "your sibling"), and all of those little details like never asking about where the gloves came from (because why would he) or the misunderstandings where one party means one thing and the other assumes it's another (dick has many siblings! too many!) just end up helping reader not get caught. and i just think that's neat.

[cowboyschumi]

MUSE

Summary: Oscar is known for being bad at padel, which is why he tries other hobbies, like photography. Now, he clearly needs something to take photos of.

Author's note: Oscar trying to play paddel 🤏

I'm a huge fan of taking inspiration from songs, so you can listen to this. Don't forget to enjoy the reading and show some love. <3

Warnings: None ig.

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COWBOYSCHUMI | 2025 All rights reserved. Do not copy, translate, or upload on other platforms.

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Oscar had to be grateful for being that good of a driver. Man, he was really bad at other sports. Everyone pointed it out and made fun of him, some people even pitied him or found it cute. He even tried golfing, but that racket was his last straw. He was a bit frustrated, but Oscar wasn’t the type to get frustrated and give up. He just accepted the fact that he wasn’t gifted enough.

His Instagram was— for his luck because he wasn't a media guy— managed by a social media professional, who made him posts and even took charge of taking pictures. Yes, none of his dumps, captions, or stories were posted by his own hands, which was crazy. He wanted some sort of control over that, after all, he had a voice and a platform. Not taking advantage of that would be a shame, besides there was no fun and genuine part if he wasn't the one behind his Instagram. So he decided to take it more seriously, it made his brain hurt in the most untolerable ways but he started to post more, engage with his fans.

Instagram dumps are such a religious thing for some people, he wasn't in that group until now. Having a picture perfect Instagram would let people have more connection with the places, his interests— perceive him differently and not some boring and flat boy with not much to say.

Like any driver, he had a stylist, a PR team, and other fancy stuff—which he didn’t like much because the main focus was on him, physically. His content was different now; it was full of sunsets, yachts, cars, and food pictures. He had to thank his team for lending him a professional camera—it made the quality ten times better.

"It's a lost cause." Oscar spoke as he carelessly dried his hair with a towel.

You vividly remember the first time he stepped into one of your classes—the typical shy kid who barely spoke. Other drivers came along with him, doing most of the talking, but they weren’t consistent in attending. For them, padel was just a way to kill time. Oscar, on the other hand, wanted to know everything about it—from the size of the court to executing the perfect shot with his racket. A few weeks after his first class, he started booking lessons on his own, demanding more focus and dedication.

He came around twice a week, and seeing him so often, you quickly grew close. So it wasn’t surprising to find him frequently emerging from the showers at the padel club. You had even learned to tolerate his wannabe tennis grunts when he hit the ball. At this point, you had already seen the worst of him.

"You’re just being hard on yourself. Not everything has to be perfect."

Like in any common locker room, there was a bench where people placed their clothes after showering. You sat there as you two talked.

No matter how comfortable you were around Oscar, you respected him, so you made a point of not looking at his shirtless torso.

"Don't give me a pity speech. I’ve heard enough of that." He really did sound tired of hearing it. But it was true—no one should be too hard on themselves for not meeting their highest expectations. Striving for perfection in everything wasn’t normal. Oscar’s mindset was too rigid, and being optimistic felt like an impossible task for him.

"Webber told me you started… photography? He even sounded worried about what you might do with that." Chuckles and laughter echoed through the warm changing room.

"Yeah, I mean, it’s pretty great. Still got a lot to work on," he admitted sincerely, making that classic uncertain face he always did when he wasn’t sure about something. His facial expressions were always amusing. "I got bored of photographing the plants on my balcony at home. Took some photos of Lando, and Hattie doesn’t even want the lens near her."

Laughter filled the room again—it felt like a comedy show at this point. But when it faded, you exchanged a tense glance, as if communicating telepathically. A mischievous smirk lit up his face.

"No." Your answer was immediate and firm, anticipating what was coming.

"I haven’t even said anything!" He raised his hands in mock innocence, his guilty smile still in place. Oh, you knew him too well.

"I won’t. I’m not photogenic."

"Please, just one time."

Oscar always swore on one-time things. But when something felt good, you tended to repeat it. He knew exactly how to take advantage of your kindness, always asking for harmless favors—because, in the end, you never said no to him.

————————————————————————

And there you were, in his Monaco apartment, on a morning when rain was pouring outside. Oscar always pointed out the differences between his current lifestyle and the one he had in Australia, the daily longing for home. That small place in Europe had its charm, and he wouldn’t complain, but he missed the wide-open spaces, the warmer weather, and even his mom’s cooking. Now he lived on the highest floor of the busiest avenue, in a cramped apartment so small that he barely had space to walk around.

"I brought donuts and coffee," You announced while cleaning your boots on the entrance mat.

"Cool, thank you. Would you mind sitting by the window? The light is majestic." His attention was focused on his camera, probably adjusting some tricky settings.

"Already bossing around?" Unbelievable. The kid already thought he was a professional photographer, giving orders and having the worst attitude.

You had a big trench coat on, surprisingly still soaked after the unstoppable rain. And it kept coming—people still struggling with their umbrellas, cars almost floating down the street. That’s what you could see from how high his apartment was.

The brown-eyed boy placed his face behind his huge, intimidating camera, yet somehow, you didn’t feel intimidated by it—after all, he was the one taking the photos. But then, an unexpected expression of discontent crossed his face, confusing you. Your brows furrowed instantly, maybe you weren’t pretty enough to be photographed. You relaxed your body, stopped posing—that was it. At least you tried.

"Take it off." Oscar’s index finger pointed at my jacket, his face continued hidden behind the camera. The view was limited, but his expression remained unreadable—no emotion, all seriousness. Clueless.

"It's freezing cold outside, you're insane." Despite your protest, you did as he told you—just like always, hating yourself for it. Your body leaned against the nearly immense open window, the breeze sneaked through with ease, making your skin shiver. Your face card wasn’t your main attribute, maybe your toned padel body was. Still, you couldn’t quite grasp why he chose you, considering all the contacts and friends he had. Favors were an unbreakable thing between you two, but, of course, you never owed him a thing.

A few more adjustments, and his camera was down again, poker face still tattooed all over him. With slow, measured steps, he walked closer until he stood right in front of you. His mannerisms were always soft and gentle, like he had been written by a woman. Not exactly naive, but delicate enough to make you feel safe and comfortable in his presence.

Oscar set your coat aside, draping it over his vintage couch. His whole place had that aesthetic. You especially loved the Abu Dhabi carpet that stretched across the floor, its deep reddish tones were delightful. His eyes couldn’t help but dart down your slim silhouette. Your white sleeveless shirt, drenched from the rain, clung to your curves, turning entirely translucent against your skin.

Finally, your eyes connected, and you desperately searched for answers, whether in his gaze or through words. The driver was entirely focused on his task, calculating angles, observing the natural lighting, and analyzing your body. Over-analyzing your body.

You knew that look—the one men gave when they stared too long, leaving a disgusting feeling. But Oscar wasn’t like that. Yes, he was staring, but with such admiration and adoration that, for once, you didn’t mind. For the first time in a long time, you felt pretty. Feminine. Reaching that level of femininity wasn’t easy. Padel and sports had always shaped your image, conditioning you to appear tough, stereotypically masculine. But under his gaze, all of that melted away.

You broke eye contact as the staring became too overwhelming for your liking, exceeding your daily dose of attention. You couldn’t just escape him because he was there, and you were working, or something like that. Your breathing hitched, and you involuntarily let out a low gasp at the feeling of his fingers brushing against your skin. His touch was cold, just like your body. The only warmth came from the fire igniting in your cheeks. His fingers hooked around one of your white straps, which had fallen out of place.

God, you wished you could say a word, anything, but you were petrified.

“You look gorgeous.”

“You just say that hoping I’d say yes to another photoshoot. Your guinea pig.” The back-and-forth banter and sarcastic flirting didn’t end, but now you were playing silly enough to avoid any heartfelt compliment. You didn’t like those types of things because you never knew how to react, especially when they came from him. His contagious laughter filled the room and your world turned upside down.

Something always lingered between you two, and it was the expectedly obvious, taking into account the amount of time you spent together—padel mornings or sometimes afternoons, dinner nights if class ended late, and when he actually managed to wake up to his multiple alarms, cycling together. But it was casual because you never knew what could cross a man's mind; spending a whole day together could mean nothing to them, maybe he even saw you in a sisterly way. So you tried to chill, not giving it much importance—because, again, a compliment could mean nothing.

His free hand found its way to your nape, resting his palm there, barely cradling it. You had no choice but to regain eye contact; he had you cornered with his gaze—physically, too. Any cold once brought by the winter weather had vanished. Your skin was hot, almost burning. Oscar's gaze didn’t reflect frenzy or desire; he looked lost, even stunned.

“Let me kiss you, please.” He murmured hopelessly, his words caressing and sweetening your ears in the most shivering way.

“Oscar, professionally is not the best to-” It was just a matter of seconds before he silenced you in the most cliché way possible. His kisses mirrored his personality—timid and shy, as if he were afraid to go too far. Yet, at the same time, they were sweet and innocent, like a first kiss, completely inexperienced.

Something that you clearly weren't used to.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him even more close, letting each other feel how you teetered, how you edged by just a kiss. Your consent gave him more confidence, turning the encounter into something deeper, sloppier. His lips parted against yours with more urgency, the hesitation melting away as the two of you let each other get lost in the moment. His breath was uneven, intoxicatingly mixing with yours. The kiss grew needier, desperate, and hungry. The sound of your teeth crashing messily together was secondary as his tongue brushed against your lips, savoring, tasting, before he dared to explore further. The slick warmth, the breathy sounds between kisses, the way his body pressed against yours—it was thrilling in the best way.

“I never really liked padel that much, nor was I good at it. There was no chance of improving. But you know why I kept coming back.” Oscar's smile emerged in the middle of the kiss, his tone playful, hinting that he knew he’d been doing something wrong just for the fun of it. Paying for extra classes just to see your face more than once a week? Genius move.

“Oh, I'm so gonna kill you.” You warned him, still in disbelief, that he’d been such a fool, especially since you would’ve said yes to any date prior if he’d only had the courage. There was no need for this extreme and unnecessary padel. But, still, seeing him struggle was part of your routine—and you enjoyed it. Not wanting to hear any lame excuses, you pulled him in, deciding to stay glued to his lips for a very long time

[a-d-nox]

pac/pap: message from your future spouse/partner

take what resonates leave what doesn't - nothing is 100% for you because these aren't personalized so please no angry comments or dms about what i am saying not being a good fit for you or that you "don't claim" just keep scrolling if that is the case. be kind, self reflect, and have fun.

last pac/pap: what energy should you bring with you into the new year?

return to the masterlist of pap/pac posts

paid reading options: astrology menu & cartomancy menu

enjoy my work? help me continue creating by tipping on ko-fi or paypal. your support keeps the magic alive!

pile 1

their physicality: emo style, pale, dark hair, tired looking, vitiligo, multicolored hair, highlighted hair, heterochromia, attractive, cute, stylish, possible smoker, and/or nice voice

their personality: impulsive, spontaneous, foreign, traveler, commitment issues, wanderer, needs space/freedom, adventurer, flirty, mesmerizing, agile, easily jealous, charming, irritable, scatter-brained, high-energy, easily distracted, and/or indecisive

where you are likely to meet: outdoors, at an art gallery, decor/antique shop, flower shop, alternative medicine shop, card section of a store, when buying beauty products, somewhere you are meant to dress up, art class, at a metaphysical shop, psych office, at night, the movie theater, night club, new york, naval academy, on a boat/cruise, at the beach, yachting, and/or somewhere coastal

now maybe this person doesn't have the best track record with previous lovers. in fact, it might be a bit chaotic to you when first hear about it. maybe when you meet them they will be freshly out of a recent breakup. they might be the type of person to remains friends with exes. those exes might even be actively involved in their life. that likely stems from their fear of commitment or their fear of being alone. currently, they are still learning that letting endings happen leads to new space for "bigger and better things" and people (like you).

to them, you are like the only star on the darkest night. they will only have eyes for you because you will be their muse. they adore you. you are so incredible in their eyes. they will see you as someone who is immensely strong, faithful, and optimistic. they find you to be a breath of fresh air - when they are with you, they feel like they can dream. they see all the possibilities of what could be and what they could become to transform into someone worthy of you.

they have some great qualities but ranking highest is their urge to control the chaos in your life for you. they are protective - they don't like to see you overwhelmed or hurt by the world around you, so they willfully step in the path of chaos to protect you. when you are overwhelmed, they are the first to volunteer to take care of anything for you. especially, when it involves them, they want to stay with you at all costs, so they will do whatever it takes to appease you and make you comfortable. they also are very wary and do not believe everything at face value, which, in my opinion, is a good quality. they don't take "i'm fine" as it is; they need to know that you are seriously fine. they don't do insta-love either which is good because, in my experience, those are the connections where the relationship is quick to fizzle out. they search for honesty and truth in all things but even more so with a romantic partner. and you? you are as genuine as they come. one last quality i want to mention before moving on is their stability and reliability. when this person makes up their mind, their mind is unchangeable. when they commit there is no out - they are all in. they are someone very stabilizing, driven, and generous when they decide that you are the one for them. they will no doubt make you their partner in crime. they will want you with them to explore the world and to spoil.

i feel like there will be noticeable tension in your pre-relationship that will bring you guys together. it will make you both feel destabilized and make you wonder if you are doing the right thing. you might feel like you are being vulnerable unnecessarily and that the relationship will amount to nothing but that won't be the case. challenges are momentary and are meant to bring you back to where you are meant to be.

the connection will bring happiness and intense emotions, especially, because you are both willing to confront each other with honest feelings and fears. you are both assertive and focused on your goals to make a future together.

song: "i wanna be yours" by arctic monkeys

pile 2

their physicality: distinctive features, angular features, black/dark hair, chiseled look, strong chin, emotional, seductive, attractive, pale, curvaceous, and/or darker skin tone (olive, easily tans, etc).

their personality: talkative, articulate, dextrous, gossiper, eloquent, influential, spiritual, soulmate, deep, independent, constantly in motion, diplomatic, and/or mediator.

where you are likely to meet: via a friend, someone sets you guys up, at the doctor's office, therapist office, walking a dog, at the veterinarian's, doing charity, while out to eat, at a bar, at the bank, making a donation, a romantic place, and/or at the cardiologist

i sense that they have a good reputation when it comes to love. they are notably nurturing, reliable, sensual, and dependable in a partnership. they go into a connection wanting to build a strong and lasting relationship.

they love that you are always trying to improve yourself. in the past, you may have been codependent on other and you might have relied on others to make you feel happy, but when you meet them, your efforts to do the opposite will be noticeable to them. you won't have unrealistic expectations for them, in fact, when you communicate with them regarding your expectations in the connection, they will find them very doable and will respect you for being upfront with them.

this person has rather unique qualities that makes them an attractive partner. for one they are aware that their emotions and thoughts sometime cloud them from seeing the reality of a situation. they can acknowledge their stress without taking it out on you and those around them. they like to manage their mental health so they can lead a productive life, they aren't afraid of making changes to better accommodate their situation. it is important to them to implement healthy coping strategies such as journalling. journalling and talk therapy likely made them the eloquent individual they are when they meet you. another attractive quality is their humble natural - they aren't haughty people who believe they are better than those around them. in fact, they aren't afraid of questioning themselves and their abilities - they realize that they are not the only one with answers and abilities. they don't do anything impulsively, they think carefully about everything before they actually do anything. lastly, they aren't afraid to admit they need space to take care of themselves - they aren't the type of person who allow others into their space just so they can lash out at them. they are very caring even when they feel depleted. they look within to nourish themselves, so you never have to fear that they will drain your well to refill their own.

you both will be brought together after you both feel more stabilized (emotionally, mentally, monetarily, etc) and are willing to commit. while careful planning isn't the sexiest thing in a connection, the sense of stability you will find with one another after such a long time of waiting to find each other will be well worth it.

this was a match made in the heavens, in my opinion. it was simply meant to be - this is the most important connection of your lifetime and they are your soulmate without a doubt. you both will love and respect each other all your lives. when you lead with love, what else could you expect.

song: "helena" by my chemical romance

pile 3

their physicality: physically fit, bodybuilder, good looking, in shape, attractive, dark/black hair, and/or darker skin tone (olive, tan, etc).

their personality: depressive, unhappy, down, lower self-esteem, pessimist, sickly, talkative, dextrous, gossip, mediator, loyal, devoted, friends first, humble, persistent, trustworthy, dependable, and/or friendly.

where you are likely to meet: somewhere with illegal activity, IT, technology shop, via a plumber, jewelry shop, at an amusement park, on the road, in a courthouse, at a political rally, at a voting booth, a highway, at an art class, at a metaphysical shop, a psych office, at night, at the movie theater, at a night club, and new york.

i sense that they aren't overly experienced with relationships, mainly because they have been working on themselves. they have been looking for someone to build a strong relationship with. someone who matches their enthusiasm, passion, and/or intensity.

they love that you can wait for things they you really desire - you have very good restraint. you aren't afraid of adjusting and refocusing your plans and goals to fit where you are right now. you aren't easily frustrated by a lack of progress - slow and steady wins the race for you, and they adore that you have that level of determination, patience, and passion.

your partner will have some astounding traits that are kinds blowing to me as i read these cards. for one, i sense that this person is very healthy - they don't have any exes waiting in the winds for them and hoping they will come back. their exes know they just won't be back. when they are done, everyone knows that they are indeed done. change is natural and normal to them - they have no problems letting go of things and people that don't help them grow or serve them in the long run. they like things and people that have purpose and are driven. they will do whatever it takes to go into this next chapter in life with you. this person tends to focus on the past however. sometimes it is difficult for them to see the possibilities of what could be as they fear that only bad things surround them and their circumstances. but they do not wait for the world around them to change; they begin the change within. they go through it - they have been through it. they know pain and struggle which has taught them how to be gentle, caring, and how to be content. they know how to find peace and how to be grateful for what they have gained. all of this is to your benefit.

prosperity and generosity are what bring you together. that and, of course, maturity - maybe this is someone you knew earlier and life, and now you are getting a second chance with them. by being forward and clear about your intentions this connection will continue to blossom and grow.

i feel like you will be better off and happier when you keep the relationship private - there are people on both side of your relationship that are gossips and manipulation.

song: "puppet" by tyler, the creator

[etheries1015]

MC lives just as lonely as Malleus does, and he thinks to himself...perhaps they could be lonely together?

Loneliness was not something you were unaccustomed to, and perhaps your hopes got a little too high coming to NRC. Although you had Grim Ace and Deuce on the occasion, the majority of students pretended as if you did not exist. This was fine, you said. It isn't different than before. You were used to not particularly having many friends, keeping to yourself, and guarding your heart from the world. You could not be open as you had dreamed of being, for every time you had shown your true nature, being turned away from had become the norm in your life.

But loneliness can fester and turn into self-loathing, tears sprinkling down your cheeks as you sat on the little broken bench in front of Ramshackle, staring out into the dark emptiness of the worn-down garden that hadn't been tended to for quite some time. You could truly sympathize with the garden- perhaps a few people came here and there to tend to the flowers, yet eventually everyone leaves, desolate and alone the floral slowly wither away into nothing. Much as yourself, growing thorns around your battered heart, for being alone is better than being betrayed by the lies of those who claim to care.

However you convince yourself to continue on, choking down those ugly emotions by painting a smile and playing one big game of pretend- for nobody likes to hear the woes of a person known to be an optimist and the face of a proper prefect; their world or otherwise.

Malleus, however, knew that face all too well. He knew from the moment he first met you in the front gates of your run-down dorms, although you spoke to him like any other student, he could see you and him were alike; surrounded by fake smiles and false pretenses of friendship for their benefit or enjoyment. He understood the differences between realness and a front, a mask he noticed you often put on in front of everyone else. Yet with him... you were very much real, and honest, despite sheltering the deepness of your personality in the depths of your heart you hadn't made it a point to lie to the prince as you had gotten to become close to him. He desperately found himself wanting to know you- pulling apart the layers, he wanted to learn more about who you were, about the things you liked, how you felt, how to see the world, to finally rid himself of his loneliness by inviting another to share his burdens; and he was terrified of it all the same.

Malleus grew up understanding his duties and knowing the facade he had to put on in front of everyone else- he knew he had to be the perfect prince, a leader, the face of a country, and the spokesperson of his people. Yet around you...he was free to talk about anything and everything under the sun and moon without judgment, without fear of tainting his name, without the shackles of princehood holding him down. He had people fear him, running away at the simple sight of his horns, and avoiding him as if Malleus were the plague himself. He knew he was destined to be truly alone- that was, until he found someone to be himself around. Although you were often by your lonesome and kept to yourself, you had always found a way to lift his spirits, smiling at him with genuine interest rather than the plastic he was sick of staring at.

That is why he was utterly shocked when he found you staring at the garden, tears pooling down your cheeks with that same look he had been all that familiar with. He had quietly sat next to you on the bench, noticing your melancholic gaze not leaving the garden although you now had company beside you. Together you sat in the silence of understanding, until you had taken a shaky breath and choked out a feeble cry of help.

"I'm tired of being lonely," Was all you said. Malleus felt his hand creep over to yours, gently grasping it and squeezing it with a slight tremble.

"You do not have to be," He said, turning his emerald eyes to stare into your own, "I...am here now." You pursed your lips and nodded slightly, leaning your body against the tall Faes strong build. There was not much to say, not much to do, yet in contrast it seemed as if the puzzle had simple put itself together in one aura of familiarity and assimilation without verbal articulation .

Silence reigned once more...two solitary souls finding comfort in one another's presence.

...For however long it'll last.

[gavisuntiedboot]

We Can't Be Friends (but I'd like to just pretend)

Pedri x Stylist! Reader

Part 2

Warnings: None

Word count: 4.3K

A/N: Back with part 2! I'm warning y'all now - it's going to suck until it doesn't. Please bear with me. Also, I have included the links to both the shirts being sold for Gaza and the direct donation link. Please check them out! And if you can't donate yourself, I donate $1 for every watermelon comment under this post! So please make sure to share at the very least.

~~~

Being scolded was the worst feeling in the world. Well, actually, sleeping with a famous client and then having him immediately chase your coworker was the worst feeling in the world. But boy was this meeting with Katerina a close second.

“There needs to be a case study on this kid.” She muttered under hear breath as she moved sticky notes around the December calendar. She darted her eyes around her current configuration, before turning sour and looking up at you. The dark circles under her eyes had darkened a shade since you had seen her the previous week, and a twinge of guilt played against your sternum for contributing to her fatigue.

“Let’s go over some basic rules, my dear. First and foremost, you cannot block your client’s number.”

“But I-“ You began to protest, but your boss lifted one finger, silencing you instantly.

“I do not care. I do not care if he is a dick. I do not care if he is going to make my stylists kill each other. Honestly, that might be a blessing.  I do not care if he is the father to a litter of bastard children running barefoot around your home. You work for SDF. You work for Pedro Gonzalez. He will have access to your phone, your email, your address, hell your underwear size if he asks. Understood?”

You bit back the urge to protest, just nodding silently. She breathed in deeply before continuing.

“Second, you will not share his information with the other girls in the office. That includes his photoshoot timing, the PR being sent to him– anything. I’m tired of having to file reports to Milan about my girls fighting.”

The command was followed by another nod, this one more genuine. You had no intention of getting within 100 meters of either Tania or Sylvia, who were still not speaking but had also telepathically decided that you were a common enemy. You had been stepped on a suspicious number of times while collecting their pins from the floor, and you always caught them whispering to the other girls in the office about “la naranja podrida”. Didn’t take a detective to put those pieces together.

You were still in a state of agitation regarding the whole ordeal. In your fit of anger, you had done the mental calculations of how long it took Pedri to text another girl. He had left just as the sun was rising, so about 5:30 am. Google maps said you lived 25 minutes from the stadium, but he would have gone home first, because that’s where the damned boots and more damned note would have been. That brings us to 6 am to account for wherever the gremlin lives. By all your most optimistic estimates, he had waited at most a hour between leaving your bed and texting your coworker.

“Hey Silvia” was the text heard around the world. After the report (and a few hair samples) was filed away, a company-wide letter from HQ was sent out reminding employees of professional boundaries with clients. The giddiness and satisfaction that had come from a harmless prank had dissolved, leaving a queasy feeling in its wake. Day damn one. You lasted 4 hours before you crumpled like a convenience store receipt over a boy at work. Ignoring every caution sign, you dove head first into a pool of prospective romance - and promptly hit the concrete.

The worst part was that you couldn’t tell anyone. Bryce had responded to your gushing sonnets in the worst possible manner: with logic. You had brushed aside every one of her very appropriate questions, looking through your rose-tinted lenses at your life. You had gone as far as to tell her she was being a bad friend for trying to find any possible negative in this situation, causing her to pull back.

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt, that’s all.”

The words of her static-garbled voice memo never left your head. There you were, only a few hours later, stomach turned and heart shredded, completely and utterly hurt. And you weren’t ready to face the sting of “I told you so” that was waiting for you, so you just… never said anything else. When she asked about Pedri, you responded formally with his upcoming campaign schedule. Lucky for you that she was too busy with her own life to keep pestering.

The upside to the current tragedy in your life was that you were working in fashion. It was hard to cry when you spent hours upon hours looking at some of the most beautiful clothes in the world, getting full creative freedom to bring your visions to life. Not impossible, because there were definitely a couple of wet spots on the Margiela from yesterday, but harder. Barca Femini had been in and out of the office for fittings, and it was a relief to be able to work with something other than khaki trousers and blazers. There were seemingly hundreds of hangers carrying vintage sports pieces, colorful jackets, and silky skirts. It sparked little moments of happiness, knowing that you were so good at playing dress-up that now you were getting paid for it.

It had been a week since your unfortunate altercation, and though the evening (and unfortunate following morning) had never left you, it had seeped from the front of your mind to the base of your skull, a dull throb that could be ignored during the course of the day. That was, of course, until you received an email from Adidas.

~

"Okay, Pedri, I hate to be the one to break this to you, but this means you're blocked."

There was a snigger that floated through the lunch room that, had he been able to pinpoint the source, Pedri would have promptly quieted with a slap to the head. But it whizzed around like a gnat between some of the younger players.

"How could I be blocked, Fermin?" The question was met with a raised eyebrow from Fermin, who was mentally cursing his college education.

"Maybe it has something to do with you sleeping with her and then disappearing?" Gavi offered up that brilliant hypothesis between bites of grilled chicken.

"No, it couldn't be. She's American - they don't take sex so seriously. Besides, we just met! What was I supposed to do? Propose?"

Pedri resisted the urge to shrink back from the judgmental stares he was receiving. He was used to being questioned by Gavi, who believed in the "stare at her intensely until she falls for me and confesses" method of romance. But now that he had roped in Fermin (the most tech-savvy of the squad), he couldn't handle the intensity of the silent disapproval.

In all honesty, Pedri was tired of the emotional rollercoaster that had plagued the entire day. The previous night had been incredible. He wasn't quite sure what to expect when La Naranja stepped through her front door, but she surely exceeded expectations. Pedri believed he was happy in his normal routine: DM an Instagram model, engage in the little cat-and-mouse game where she pretended she wouldn't bend to his every will, and go back to her place for a decently fun time. But there was something about the way you walked, so coy and bashfully, looking up at him through delicate lashes with wide eyes, that warmed the most primal part of his being. His heart quickened at the sudden desire to chase, to capture, to consume. He wanted to protect this pretty little thing from the sharp eyes and sharper teeth of his friends. He was ready to savor everything you offered.

Over the course of the evening, the feeling gnawing at the inside of his chest became harder to ignore. The soft grip you maintained on his bicep to keep him close, the warmth of your fingertips searing his skin. He wanted to bark at Ferran to never look your way again. To sink his teeth into your neck, have you cry out his name so every man would know to never come near you again. Your hand, so delicate and soft in his own, maintained a firm grip as he dragged you out of the club, and a firmer grip on his hair once he was finally able to kiss you senseless. He felt like a wild animal unleashed in bed with, unable to slow or take pause. You were so hypnotizingly innocent, and he was going to destroy that.

The warmth in his chest remained till the following morning. As he kissed your cheek and whispered his goodbyes, he allowed himself to imagine what kind of arrangement the two of you could have. He was more than eager to feel the caress of your soft lips again. Maybe you would be open to picking up his late night calls, spending long, tedious days together talking and fucking and laughing at nothing in particular. He thought about the flush in your cheeks that would arise whenever he came into work, dropping subtle hints about your activities in the days before. He could really make you a permanent part of his rotation with little difficulty, facilitated further by the fact that you had been assigned as his personal stylist. Filthy as it may sound, he contemplated not showering upon his return home. He would have to later in the day following practice, but until he could secure a second audience with you in a bedroom, he wanted to savor the scent a little longer.

His front doorstep was littered with packages once again, about half from Adidas and the other from Springfield. He was not a designer by any means, but he appreciated that he was at least sent the collections that were meant to be his. Fer was sipping on a coffee when Pedri walked in, and expertly avoided ay questions of where he had been the previous night. He was a concerned older brother, but he was also a guest. He instead asked to see the piles of PR that his younger brother had hauled through the door.

"I don't understand why they bother sending you all this stuff. Why wouldn't they just send it to the styling team."

"Because I actually have to play in the boots, hermano." Pedri said, lifting the lid off his newest pair. He was excited for another Adidas campaign, or any campaign really that would bring him closer to you once again. Oh how he wished he could have captured the way you looked in that dress forever, immortalized it in an oil painting and hung it on his wall (right beside the ripped remains of the dress, which he so desperately wanted to destroy). His daydream had been broken by a crisp white envelope contrasted against the bright orange of the boots. There was a feminine wave of scent in the air, and the heart pumping in his ears drowned out the sounds of his brother’s whistles and taunts. Had you done this? Had you been planning ahead to send him a note had he neglected to ask you out while at the office?

He tensed his forearms to disguise a slight tremble, ripping open the envelope and scanning the page only to find-

“Ay dios mío. Silvia.” He allowed his head to thud against the counter, Fer’s tittering laugh clear as a bell now.

“Is she the scary one or the weird one?” His brother asked, prying the crumpled letter from Pedri’s dejected form.

“Both are fitting adjectives. She’s the shorter one with the silver hair. She kind of looks like our Tia Marisol?”

Another tittering of laugher, and this time Pedri joined in with a cracked smile of his own.

“She wants to tell you how much she admires you, how much you make her … quiver? Ew.” Fer squinted at the note further.

“Listen to this line. Ehem: ‘I am ready to serve you, worship you, give you my body and soul because I love you.”

Pedri groaned so loudly he was sure the neighbors heard. Honestly, what were these girls thinking?? That he would start blushing and giggling at the mention that they would sleep with him? That was the least most girls would do. It turned his stomach, constantly fearing that he would be trapped with a child.

“Let me text this girl. I have to go in next week and I don’t want her bent over a table spread and waiting when I arrive.”

He typed in the number on the note, drafting a long text before deleting everything but the “Hey Silvia” at the top.

“It’s too forceful to say ‘hey I don’t want to fuck you’ right off the bat, no?”

He hit send, reluctantly heading off to shower away his escapades before he went into training, waiting for a reply before he asked not to receive any more erotic letters from his stylists. Oh how he wished she hadn’t.

~

“So run us through it one more time.” Gavi said, Ferran deciding to stifle his groan. The last thing he needed was to enrage Gavi further, as he suspected it would result in him finally getting the punch that was coming to him. Ansu and Fermin were nodding along vigorously, eager to hear all about Pedri’s first experience having feelings.

“We went out, we fucked-“

“Pedri!”

He rolled his eyes at the indignation from the boys. Kids these days.

“Okay. We went out, we had a magical lovemaking experience, and then I had to come to training. I texted her about her being my stylist to ya know break the ice. And I found myself in deep shit and promptly blocked on like everything.”

“I think your first mistake,” said Fermin, “was not texting her about last night. Why would you start with her working for you?"

Pedri dragged his hand down his face in frustration.

"What was I supposed to say? Good morning linda, great pussy last night?"

Gavi stood promptly with his hands up, leaving the room.

"I don't want to hear about another girl's vagina."

"Yes," Ferran muttered, "God forbid he cheat on his crush by listening to a story."

"Whatever happened to 'Hey, I had fun last night'? Is that not a normal thing to say?" Ansu asked, as shaken as Gavi but remaining planted by his desire to be in the loop.

"I think my agent is texting SDF to get her to unblock me. Not super easy to talk to my stylist if I have to do so through messenger pigeon. Where did Gavi go?"

Pedri followed his friend out of the locker room, watching as Gavi stared dejectedly at the Doctora’s office.

“Are you done moping?” Pedri asked, clapping him on the shoulder.

“No. She might lose her job and we play her stupid boyfriend’s team tomorrow. I just want to keep her safe from that asshole.”

For a minute, something sparked in Pedri’s chest. Was that jealousy? He had never before felt that there was something missing in his life, content with being surrounded by friends and family and teammates. But there was something about watching Gavi pine, listening to the way he spoke of this girl, and it caused him an ache. He was in awe of this foreign spectacle: loving someone so deeply, so intensely, that it led to begging for crumbs of their time and attention. He almost wished to be in the Doctora's position, always having someone waiting around the corner for him.

"I have a styling meeting today. Do you want to come and keep me company?"

~

"Naranja, the bastard is here."

You didn't even lift your head when Maria informed you of the arrival of your client. You had worn all black to mourn the death of your self esteem, prepared to ass-kiss as much as needed to preserve your job. Unfortunately, it was difficult to push down the burning rage in the pit of your stomach when you had to kiss the ass of the man who has hurt you so intensely.

Pedri strolled into the room clad in the ugliest jeans known to man, his doe-eyed teammate (Gavin?) trailing behind him. At least the littler one knew how to dress. He was in baggy jeans and an Amie Paris t-shirt, clean sneakers in the same shade of blue as his top. Pedri, on the other hand, was an abomination. His black hoodie was far too baggy on his frame, making him look somewhat inflated. It was made worse by the tight and ribbed denim hugging the (admittedly stunning) legs that ended suddenly in some chunky clompers.

"Good morning, Naranja."

God. Even the sound of his voice was like swallowing razor blades. You wished that you could hear the lilt in his speech without remembering the soft whispers against the column of your throat, guiding you to ecstasy at his command. The way that he encouraged you, coaxed the gentle sighs and high moans with just an ask.

"Let me hear you, pretty girl."

And who were you to deny? But now, looking at his soft eyes and confident stance, you wish you had resisted. Pretended you didn't speak Spanish that first godforsaken day in this office.

"Good morning Pedro."

A stifled laugh and wide eyes from the boy behind Pedri (God what was his name? Gustavo?). Pedri's shoulders had dropped significantly, his thick brows coming together in confusion.

"No one calls me Pedro. Not even my mother."

"Well, maybe it's a good time for you to learn what disappointment feels like. Especially since you're so comfortable giving it out to others. Do you have your boots?"

You could tell Pedri was lost for words, and it caused you a mild spark of satisfaction. You had spent the last week boiling silently, unable to unleash all the rage simmering in your chest. He nodded silently, pulling the box out of his bag.

"Great. Gabriel, there is a coffee shop on the second floor if you want to grab a drink while I'm fitting Pedro. I'm sure you've seen him naked plenty of times but-"

"No, no, I'll go. Would you like anything?"

After shaking your head, he exited the room, and you began frantically grabbing different sweat pants and shirts for Pedri to put on.

"His name is Gavi by the way." Pedri said to break the silence, and you turned so he could strip off his shirt.

"Come on, Naranja. Don't pretend you haven't see it already." He smiled somewhat earnestly, softer than he did at the other girls. You were a gentle thing, and he wanted to be gentle with you.

"How many other girls in this office have seen it as well, Pedro?" You asked with as much venom as you could muster, turning to face him and eyes locking as he unzipped his jeans.

"You think that sleeping with me is a company welcome gift, Naranja?"

"That's not my name."

"And Pedro isn't mine. But if you want to poke at me, I'll poke at you right back."

He was now in only his boxers and his socks, and it took everything within you not to glance downwards, a reminder of the sight from one week and one night ago. He took a defiant step forward, the heat radiating off his body.

"You know, Pedro," You began, steadying your voice. "Texting my coworker mere minutes after leaving my bed is a sin on it's own."

"Wait, what? Hold on-"

"But in those mere hours of bliss, I googled you. Looked at your name on Twitter. Saw who you were. And you're just another slimy athlete that uses girls and throws them away."

Your face broke when you heard him laugh loudly at the revelation. It made you angry, expecting him to feel ashamed of his behavior.

"I despise miscommunication, Naranja. So don't go jumping to conclusions and acting foolish. Your coworker sent me a letter essentially begging to fuck me, but I suspect you knew that already. Hell, you might have even been the one to switch the names around."

Your cheeks grew warmer, and a part of your brain registered that Gavi was now lingering in the doorway.

"But beyond that, linda, is that I was texting her to say I wasn't interested." He began dressing, joggers defining his legs in a way acid-washed denim never could. "But I don't like being judged based on rumors on Twitter. I want to be your friend-"

"Again with that word!" The outrage was finally seeping from you, and now that the lid had come off there was no containing it.

"How am I meant to be your friend, Pedro? You hit on me, you sleep with me, and then you moved on to the next girl. How am I supposed to be your friend after everything you've put me through?"

"What did you expect of me exactly?" He shoved his shirt over his head, a sweet bit of relief in a tense situation. "I like you, Naranja. More than a lot of other girls I've met. And I want to keep seeing you," he let his eyes burn a path down your body, "as a little more than a friend. If that's something you're into."

You took a step back, hand over your chest in shock. Did this man just ask you to be a friend with benefits, mere minutes after you asserted your disgust for his very being.

"You must think so highly of yourself." You couldn't raise your voice out of fear of it cracking. Just how much had you deluded yourself into thinking you found something special?

"I don't actually," there was a tone of laughter in his voice, "quite the opposite actually." There was suddenly not enough air between you. You simultaneously wished someone would interrupt you and that the moment would last forever.

"You're a sweet girl, Naranja. Too sweet for someone like me. I know who I am and what I want, and a girlfriend is not on that list currently."

"So what? I'm good enough for you to fuck and not to date?" You asked, the question heavy between the two of you. He remained silent, lips unmoving, the wheels turning behind deep chocolate eyes.

"I like you enough not to want to hurt you, Naranja. So, what do you say? Friends?"

"Go fuck yourself, Pedro."

~

The high pitched noise of the camera going off repeatedly was starting to get to your head. You leaned against the wall, rubbing at your temples to try and stave off the impending migraine. You opened your eyes briefly to see Gavi also leaning against the wall, gnawing on his lip and staring at his phone. Propelled by boredom, you shifted slowly along the wall to peak at what he was doing, desperate for any form of entertainment.

Thank God for the lack of Gavi's vertical blessing. A quick peek revealed that he wasn't actually typing any words, only rereading text from a contact that was saved as...

"Holy shit are you fucking your doctor?" You asked, probably a little louder than appropriate.

His eyes went wide as frying pans and he began to go visibly red. He started babbling out denials, explaining that the two of them were just friends.

"I mean she has a boyfriend and even if she didn't she would never go for me because she's so much older than me and cooler than me and she's way out of my league but all I want to do is keep her safe and make her happy and-"

His brain finally caught up to the words he was letting loose, and he abruptly suspended his word vomit.

"Does she know that you like her?" You asked, back against the wall, shoulder to shoulder with Gavi.

"God, I hope not. I don't want to do anything to make her life harder than it already is."

"Maybe telling her how you feel will make it easier. Maybe she feels the same."

"Yeah," he sighed deeply, looking wistfully at his phone again, "That's what Pedri keeps telling me."

The disgust was evident on your features. "I wouldn't really take Pedri's relationship advice."

"Now now, turning my best friend against me because you want me is a little extreme, Naranja." The voice behind you was too much to bear.

"Someone needs to give your best friend advice on how to not transform into a heartless user."

"Ironic. I remember one of us chanting 'use me, use me, use me' just last week." The response died in your mouth as Pedri's publicist approached. Where did this guy get off? Even if you believed his bullshit excuse about not wanting to fuck Silvia, the teen drama explanation as to why he doesn't "do" relationships compensated plenty.

"Alright you crazy kids! Ready to go shopping?" You spun around so quickly that you almost smacked Gavi with your hair.

"I beg your pardon? I am a stylist, not a personal shopper. I get pieces sent to me."

That was the truth. You weren't in charge or brand relations, and the purchasing department was an impenetrable fortress. Each week, a soulless intern wheeled a rack into the room, and you worked with what you were given. You had several ideas for how you could modernize some of these stuffy athletes, but that wasn't your place. Not yet anyways.

"Yes, of course. But we are redoing Pedri's wardrobe entirely. We have received communication from the team that his tunnel outfits are - what was the official wording? Oh yes, 'a detriment to the team's public image and an offense to the eyes of culers globally'. Springfield have also asked us to film some content during the journey."

"I don't think this is really part of Naranja's job description."

Of course Pedri was the one undermining you. Of course it was his voice speaking out only to call you incapable. You forced on your biggest smile, turning to face the agent directly.

"Oh, there's no issue at all. It would be an honor to makeover Spain's worst looking footballer."

~~~

Okay end of part 2!! I have decided that I want to post more frequent, smaller parts for this story rather than giant updates every three months. Please let me know what you think in the comments and in my ask box, and potentially where you want this dynamic to go! Thanks cutes xoxo gavisuntiedboot <3

(also if you would like to be on the taglist for this story, pls lmk!!)

Taglist:

@girlidekanymore

[brightlotusmoon]

Everything is getting worse and I got really upset when I fully read what Project 2025 is. It makes me not want to be happy or celebrate anything. How do you stay positive when everything keeps getting worse?

It's a very personal and powerful force of will that keeps me positive. I'm honestly not sure how to describe it. I've built it up over a couple of decades but that's because it wasn't until recently that I had the terms to communicate and understand.

It's about waking up every single day telling myself to stay optimistic, even if it feels nihilistic, it's about finding something that makes me laugh really really hard, something I love and enjoy all the time, like a cartoon show. I follow certain political blogs that remain rational and sympathetic. I'll remind myself a lot to not let myself slide into the event horizon of despair.

It's very tiring but very rewarding, because if I can ease the tension I can feel more motivated and positive that maybe things will be okay. But I also curate my life experiences as much as I can.

We must celebrate little victories, we must find ways to be happy in the small hours, until that hope starts to turn into armor. I genuinely don't know how to transfer my experiences but I can at least talk about them. It really does help.

[fruity-mond]

I genuinely cannot tell you if I'm happy with this or not. I DONT THINK I CAN FINISH THIS 😭 at least I made it half way. First time trying something like this actually

Amber and Kaeya's relationship with each other is so underutilized I swear.

Amber is optimistic to a FAULT. She takes words at face value (that one time Collei lied in the webtoon and everyone caught on EXCEPT Amber)

On the other hand is Kaeya, who's so suspicious about everything that he borders on cynicism. He completely grew hostile towards Collei and the HINT of her being a threat.

They're both fighting for the same goal but with completely different approach. Both deeply flawed in their own way.

Kaeya being the one breaking Amber's rose tinted glasses feels right, in an unfortunate way. Kaeya reminds Amber of the worst the world has had to offer, not because he's a bad person, but because of the lengths he has to go to. She knows, on some level, that Kaeya's justified in his methods, she just doesn't like that he is. He's a harsh reminder of what people have to do when put in those kind of situations.

I do believe they care for each other, it's just that they disavow each other's methods. Either because it's naive and inefficient, possibly risking the entire goal, or because of how cold and reckless it is, borderline cruel.

Genshin PLEASE PLEASE EXPAND YOUR CHARACTERS IM TIRED OF THIS. THE WEBTOON CANNOT BE ALL WE HAVE FOR KAEYA AND AMBER. I CAN ONLY LIVE OFF THE WEBTOON AND KAEYA'S HANGOUT EVENT FOR SO LONG ���💔

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Lord Husband (Chapter 13)

A/N: i'm sorry yall, i feel like my posting is getting slower and slower. I know this a short one too but i've been so stressed with uni

WORD COUNT: 862 words

Series masterlist

Both Safia and Rose are waiting for you when you get back from your supper.

“Gods, i’m nearly ready for bed. I’m so tired.” You groan as you walk into the room but both of the girls can see clearly that you walk as if you’re much lighter than you have been for the past few weeks.

“Yes, princess. Your ride was very long today. You entirely skipped lunch.” Safia muses, fetching yours and her own needlework. She hands you yours before sitting on a settee across from the armchair you rest on.

“I suppose I did.” You murmur as you make yourself comfortable, not yet looking at the needlework.

“Your meal with Lord Stark seemed to perk you up.” Rose comments and Safia shoots her a pointed look for her impertinence. She always was the more bold one of the two. 

“I look happier because he said we should have my brothers over for a visit, not because I shared a meal with him.” You say sharply.

“That is wonderful news, princess!” Safia states politely but her joy is clearly genuine as well. She’s loved nothing more than playing with little Aegon and Viserys since her brother died.

“Yes, very wonderful.” Rose adds. It isn’t that she is unhappy with the news, she just senses that it isn’t the only reason you’ve come back to your chambers with such a smile on your face.

Rose is higher born than Safia and you can tell in these moments. She is much less frightened to speak her mind than the lowborn girl is even if she is only the daughter of a second born son whose house is nothing close to prominent. You’ve always liked that about her; Rose doesn’t let her station define her and that’s one of the reasons she’s your closest friend.

“You have other thoughts on your mind, Rose. Speak them.”

“I wouldn’t want to overstep, princess.” She replies. The girl may be bold but she isn’t stupid. She knows how easy it is to hit a nerve when speaking of your relationship, or lack thereof, with Cregan.

“You’ve never had that problem before.” You point out and Safia smiles at the comment, looking back down at her needlepoint right away.

“I just sensed that you were getting along better with your husband. It pleases me to see you smile once in a while. It used to grace your face so often back in Dragonstone, and even in Kingslanding. Now, it seems as though you haven’t smiled for weeks.” it's a sad notion but you aren’t regretful of your coldness.

“I am the last woman in this world to sit down and take the hand they’ve been given by an unfair dealer.” You muse. The anger all feels justified, thinking of yourself as an avenging angel. “If I am compliant in my own misery then every other woman will follow suit... They’ll have no choice. I’m the second most powerful woman in the world and I had no choice.” You say solemnly.

“Change is coming, princess.” Safia starts. “It is just… slow.”

“Look at your mother. Westeros had not seen a queen rule in her own right before her.” Rose says.

“At this rate, our children won’t even see a fair world.” You reply.

“But the later generations will benefit.” Safia says optimistically. “Prince Jacaerys will see that it is continued.”

“Yes… Jacaerys.” You murmur bitterly. “Is it so wrong that I want to benefit from it? More could be done.”

The girls ignore the slight against your mother and Rose speaks again, “It could take… unfathomable amounts of violence to accomplish such a thing.”

“Who cares for the lives of men who are unfaithful to their ruler?”

“And those men’s children, wives, families, are innocent but if you kill the head of their house, they would never forget it. They might not directly call for vengeance but most would resent a radical ruler. People of status rarely care for radicality. It diminishes their power.”

“Death would extinguish it.” You murmur. The girls know you aren’t truly serious but such laxness in reference to violence discomforts them. “Jacaerys will continue our mother’s progressions but that doesn’t make him any less of a man. He can’t truly understand.”

“I am sure Lady Baela will be of aid to him in that.” Safia adds thoughtfully.

But it could’ve been you aiding him. Though, the people would never chant your name the way they chant his.

“She will make a good queen one day.”

“Perhaps one day your brother will take you on as an advisor.” Rose suggests. She sees how badly you want control.

“If I’m not too busy tending to Stark’s children.” You scoff.

“They will be your children too, princess. I am sure you will love them as any mother loves their child.” Safia says kindly.

You ponder on her words for a moment, wondering if a mothers love if truly unconditional. Is there something inherent in childbirth that will make you fall in love with the babe that tears itself from your womb?

You’re not sure if you’ll ever love the children Cregan puts in your belly.

“Perhaps.” 

Comment to be added to taglist

[just-a-ghost00]

Fall energy check and advice from spirit

Group 1

Energy check | The Explorer, The Revolutionary, The Creator, Play

These are very intense energies but I feel like they bring a lot of positivity into your life currently. You may be going through a very busy time right now, especially creative wise. There may be a lot of projects going on, whether that's on a personal or a professional / educational level. You may be going through a lot of changes as well. Though this may be tiring for you, your mindset towards this phase of your life is pretty optimistic and playful. I feel like you are enjoying your time and excited about what the Universe has in store for you. You may be getting a lot of opportunities, invitations from friends and family, unexpected offers also. You're in a very proactive energy which allows you to influence others and provoke change around you. People around you may be more receptive to your energy and willing to give credit to your ideas and plans. You may also feel a bit more rebellious, adventurous, confident. You may be starting new hobbies, traveling, picking up new habits in your routine and so on. You're also in a very sensual energy. So on a romantic level, that may transpire as you being more playful with your partner and exploring your connection a bit more. If you're single, you may be more receptive to being flirted with and may even initiate contact with people. Overall I get a very good vibe coming from this group, especially if you have a lot of fire sign energy in your chart. I'm also picking up on someone being more free spirited and laid back, allowing themselves to do things they wouldn't usually do. Letting go of the need to control and be open to surprises.

Advice from spirit

Astrophyllite - Unlock your highest potential : this card encourages you to make bold decisions and get out of your comfort zone. Your proactive and assertive attitude is being highlighted here by your spiritual team. If you keep going like this, you will be on the right track and manifesting what is meant for you.

Chrysocolla - Be your own mama : this card highlights communication and the issues that relate to it. It reminds you of the need to be gentle with yourself, especially when it comes to the things you may say about yourself in conversations, the perception you have of yourself. You're also encouraged to support yourself by being confident about your own decisions. You may use positive affirmations daily to remind yourself of all the good there is in you. If you're in a situation where something or someone is making you feel small, don't be afraid to step up and express your genuine opinion and feelings.

Emerald - Point your heart towards grace : this card highlights love in all shapes and forms, especially self love. You're encouraged to remind yourself that you are deserving of love and capable of love. It is important that you bask in this loving energy and that you radiate love around you. Express self love through aesthetics, the way you dress, what you eat and communicate. Receive love through the comforting words and actions of others. Surround yourself with loving things and people.

Remember that you are doing a good job <3 You can be proud of yourself and I love you to the moon and back <3

Group 2

Energy check | Shadow, The Wildling, The Warrior, Play

This energy feels a bit more conflicting and challenging than group 1's. Though, your energies may be linked, as you both have the same card as the back of the deck (Play). You are in an energy of working on your past trauma, healing your inner fears and overcoming whatever has been holding you back. You may feel a bit tense, guarded around people in general. You may be in a bit of a mischievous, rebellious energy where everything feels like a competition or a provocation of some sort. You may feel triggered by people around you for no reason, especially if you feel like people are making fun of you or their intentions may not be as innocent as they portray. You may find yourself in a lot of debates or arguments with people. There's also a need for clarity and honest communication here. It's like you think that everyone around you has ulterior motives or that the good things in your life may hide something darker. I feel like this comes from past experience that has hurt you and left you feeling used and abused. You are in an energy of wanting to fight for yourself and what you believing, protecting your energy and accomplishments. You may be a bit closed off and trying to isolate yourself a lot more than usual to avoid any trouble. I feel like you are seeking tranquility and space to make your own mind about certain things and people. You may be in an inner turmoil about something or someone, needing space to decide on the best course of action.

Advice from spirit

Lepidolite - Enter your chill zone : you are encouraged to set boundaries and keep yourself away from conflicts, especially if those are matters that do not concern you directly. Practice mediation if that is something you are into. Do not let the energies of others rub on you.

Barite - Get answers to your biggest questions : here spirit reminds you that you don't have to say yes to everything. Let go of your tendency to people please and instead, ask yourself what would please you. Also, if you are feeling like something is your life is missing or not right, you are encourage to investigate further about that feeling.

Jasper - Strengthen your foundation : find and pracice activities that help you ground yourself. Restore your balance through breath work, any kind of physical activity, gardening or spending time in nature in general. Get back to your roots, literally and metaphorically.

Group 3

Energy check | The Wildling, The Warrior, Ascension, Self love

If you felt attracted to group 2 you may want to check their reading as well. Two of your cards are similar to group 2's spread for this section. Here I feel like you energies are a bit challenging but compared to group 2 this brings about a lot of positive change and growth in your life. You may even purposefully put yourself in challenging situations as you know these will help you become a better person. You are in an energy of learning, figuring out what is best for you, changing certain habits or beliefs. This feels like a spiritual reset. You may be trying to seek answers to certain issues you've been faced with. Also, you may be faced with a lot of decision making that will help you progress on your journey. For this group, I feel like most of you are going through a spiritual awakening. The challenging energies that you may be going through are balanced by the intervention of your spirit team as well as certain people around you. You may be connecting with people that help you question your perceptions and interpretations, but who also remind you of what is essential to you. People that help you bring the focus back on yourself and regain your balance so that you can overcome whatever challenge coming your way. You may be receiving a lot of downloads, encouraging messages from people around you. You may be feeling like things in your life are taking a turn and starting to reflect the reality you've always dreamed of. You are going out of a stressful and difficult time of your life.

Advice from spirit

Chrysoprase - Grow from your heart out : you are encouraged to forgive yourself and others for the challenging times you went through. You are reminded that you are a human being with needs, desires and dreams that should be respected and heard. That love exists and that you are worthy of it. You are encouraged to keep believing in yourself, in humanity, in love.

Tourmalined quartz - Restore your perfect light : cut out of your life anything or anyone that makes you feel unworthy, that belittles you or hurts you. Cleanse your energy, your mindset, your space.

[battlemaiden13]

So I'm curious, what would a relationship with the yandere house skeletons look like? Just one on one, not poly. Just some headcanons would be good

Yandere headcanons

Sans

He’s a bit of a recluse, preferring to be held up in his room with his surveillance gear and experiments then socializing. He spends a large majority of his time in his room and has created a nice comfy little nest of pillows for you to come chill with him

The whole place has nice lo-fi, chill, gaming, vibes to it which is exactly how your relationship with Sans feels if you don’t do anything to seriously piss him off. He’s pretty hard to get angry anyway as he will give you basically anything you want if you just ask for it. 

He showers you in gifts and sometimes you can see the hints of regret behind his eyelights as he talks to you, almost as if he knows what he did was wrong but he has yet to apologize for it. 

Papyrus

It’s a lot like dating regular Papyrus if you ignore the fact that you can’t leave the house without him and the odd comments and smells he sometimes gives off. If you think about it optimistically he’s just a lot more clingy than regular Papyrus. 

When he first got interested in you he practically moved into your room with you which was a blessing and a curse. It kept the other skeletons away but it also meant opening up to the skeleton a lot sooner than you were probably prepared for.

He’s actually very considerate once you get to know him. He makes sure that you don’t see anything unpleasant and will always check in on how you're doing. He even lets you out of the house as long as someone is accompanying you.

Red

He gives you the most space out of all the skeletons. Once he has you he doesn’t want to scare you off. He knows he can be a bit much and when he doesn’t know how to react he turns to anger and he never wants to be angry at you. As such you don’t see him as often as the others. 

He takes what you say to him to heart and will almost always do what you ask. You don’t like the smell of blood? He makes sure he washes it all off him before he sees you. You hate his crude humor? He tones it way down whenever he's with you. Any small thing you say he takes to heart and obviously puts in the effort. 

The others know how much Red adores you because he genuinely laughs and smiles whenever he is with you. That’s not something he does with anyone else, not even his brother. 

Edge

Although he looks like one of the scarier yanderes he actually has the best manners and is strict about upholding them. He always seemed courteous to you even before you started dating. 

He may occasionally poison you during one of your tea times, which you have almost daily. You quickly figured out this is him just trying to share his interests with you and he never gives you a lethal dose of anything or anything he doesn’t have an antidote to. 

You have a very civil relationship on the outside but he treats you like a goddess. He worships the very ground you walk on and would do anything to please you. 

Blue

Being in a relationship with Blue terrifies everyone else. You are literally the only one he listens to and can get him to stop. Everyone starts coming to you to help with Blue and it gets tiring quickly. 

Blue breaks in front of you. He will have full on emotional stalls and cry quietly in your arms as he admits he hates being the way he is and that you are his everything. He would burn the world for you and everyone knows it. 

The two of you have a lot of fun together. Blue likes trying things in an attempt to spike his dopamine and he wants you along for the ride so he can feel more. After every day he still feels like you are the thing that makes him the happiest. 

(Blood) Orange

It’s basically identical to dating a regular orange. You might not even be aware that Blood is a yandere and if you are he still masks quite a lot because that it what he’s had to do to survive up to this point

The main point of difference is Blood’s jealousy. Orange will show when he’s jealous, he doesn’t hide it but Blood will. He’s very good at hiding it. He still gets just as jealous as Orange but will hide it and ‘deal’ with the problem later. 

Honestly just a lot of fun to hang out with, very chill and doesn’t seem to let things bother him but he is there when it really matters which he has proven time and time again. 

Berry

He acts completely differently with you than he does with anyone else. With you he is a small, whiny, puppy who just wants attention. With everyone else he’s cold and calculating. It's hard to tell that it’s the same monster. 

The way he looks at you is just filled with pure love and adoration. He spoils you rotten and will do whatever you ask short of you leaving him. He practically moved into your room when you started dating and he doesn’t want to leave. He’s pretty clingy. 

He’s not as jealous of his brother. In fact he doesn’t seem to be jealous of anyone. When the two of you are dating he’s confident that you love him and won’t have eyes for anyone else. It means he’s pretty relaxed when you talk to the others, he just wants to be close to you. 

Syrup

Syrup is always a yandere so not much if anything really chances in the house of yandere. The main difference is he doesn’t like letting you out of his sight and will be much more open with his clinginess. Always draping himself over your shoulders or holding your hands. 

He idolizes you but you are also the reason his brain stops walking. Which is a real problem since he relies on his smarts almost exclusively. He ends up embarrassing himself around you a large majority of the time. 

Syrup quickly figures out your love language and uses this to his advantage in winning you over. He still has his stalking tendencies and will have a shrine to you, he’s just less panicked about it if you find it. 

[anonymouscheeses]

more obvious shit I wanted to point out but it's more than last time uhhh pt.2 (spoilers for dad beat dad and maybe welcome to heaven. Maybe?)

I love that Charlie just randomly goes into demon form sometimes like here ehhehehe. Also can I just say I love Charlie so much?? She is my favorite and I love her especially in this episode because it feels like the same optimistic Charlie but she was just put in a bad situation. I relate to her a bit TOO much, almost down to every detail like wow. You'll understand later once I get there. But just wow...

LOOK AT THIS FUNNY LITTLE MAN. SPOODER DUST <3 also. Live [image] reaction. Someone make that into a reaction image 🙏🙏

HONEY!!! NEW MEME TEMPLATE JUST DROPPED. (Aka the one guy going crazy trying to explain the stuff on the board iykyk)

OMG... THAT CANT BE CHARLIE... NOT CHARLIE'S EMO PHASE PLEASE BAHAHAHHAHAHA (also love that Lucifer has kept it all these years, if Charlie knew I think she'd be extremely embarrassed. Vaggie would love it probably xd)

HE IS SO GOOFY I CANT- I LOVE HIM SO MUCH ALREADY!!! NEED.

Broskie got character development and is NICE?!? I LOVE THAT SMMM YALL.... LOOK AT HIM!! I am very delusional yes, but I will take this over ass development(cough. Vaggie's "story" in ep 3. Cough).

Imagine this. *holds your hand carefully to help you calm down while talking to your father you haven't really wanted to talk to.* lesbian type stuff ngl 🤯 (relatable)

Angel looking at the gays while being a gay too. HE'S BEING SO KIND TO CHARLIE UGGHH I CANTTT!!(POS) NODDING HIS HEAD, SMILING TO HER, ALSO TRYING TO HELP CALM HER DOWN. I MAY BE ASS AT SOCIAL CUES BUT I NOTICED THIS ONE!! YAA

*SHE IS STILL HOLDING HER HAND. CHARLIE'S ALSO SWINGING IT AROUND NERVOUSLY. I can never get tired of them and will make art soon just you wait.*

COMMANDER VAGGIE! I love that she acts like this is a camp full of tiny kids and honestly? That's not too far off. Sir pentious is at the ready! (glad he's here more often in the episode, thought he would just get sidelined after his first episode but gladly no!) Angel is just surprised. Husk spilled his drink, ON WHITE FUR NO LESS! Niffty of course is on the floor face first. Charlie is just happy to be there yippee!

What is this?? I have no idea what the hell it is at all. Bro is just peepin- it doesn't look like Alastor, even in demon form. And... I can't think of anyone else who could be this. Anyone have ideas or maybe it's foreshadowing? Maybe it was revealed in the 6th episode I don't know I haven't watched it yet. (I am a freak. I don't binge I give myself a day to watch a single episode. Most of the time uhhh.)

WE LOVE A SHORT KING. I LOVE THAT. I LOVE HIM. THE EVERYTHING. HE IS EVERYTHING. LET ME STRANGLE HIM PLEASE. (Lillith and Lucifer's dynamic is 100% Gomez and Morticia but a little more silly short man)

"OH WOW! AN OLDER MAN WHO GIVES ME FATHERLY CARE!" *STARTS TO FUCKING CRY*

I FEEL YOU CHARLIE WAAAGHHH

Oh and there goes the silly guy again! Atp I'm thinking it may be the gal some people been talking about that they've been hinting since the pilot. I forgot her name but she's said to be the big bad of season 1 or probably 2. Not sure if that's what it's trying to imply but here's my little no-thought idea

Lucifer, no...

LUCIFER NO!! THIS IS SUCH AN ADORABLE RESPONSE TO CHARLIE DATING A WOMAN. (ADOPT ME)

AND THEN THE HUG! I GET IM LOOKING TOO MUCH INTO THIS ONE SILLY SCENE BUT I JUST LOVE IT SO MUCH AND WANT THIS SO BAD IN MY LIFE.

Niffty really said, "Yes, I do the cleaning."

Get yourself a taller king who is a short king but compared to you is a tall king

Say what you will, but I genuinely want more dad Alastor, someone make an au before I do plsss and @ me 🙏🙏

alright.. now this is where it starts to be relatable and hurt my heart... yayy.... needing any sort of parent figure that actually cares about you than the actual parent who is rarely there? WOWZA! SAME CHARLIE <3 <3 (SO FAR VERY ACCURATE FROM SOMEONE THAT IS IN THE SAME SITUATION)

Alastor is letting her off kindly, atleast in his way. He may be pissed off she brought a shark gang to the hotel and put it on fire, but they were still close friends. With anyone else he would absolutely either murder them or have severely traumatized the person. She's the exception, although I don't think he'd let it off the hook so easily if there were a next time.

A father-daughter embrace! :,)

(This is gonna be messy asf) He wants to know who she is as a person. He always has, and that's definitely obvious, but from a person inside this, they may not know themselves what the other is thinking. To Charlie it was like he never cared and just wanted an excuse to not see her again, acting like he was truly busy as in the start where he made the rubber duck that breathed fire. Sure. But Charlie saw it as him finding ways to not interact with her again. The only times they talk was when it was related to business stuff or other things of the sort. Let me just say this song... is by far my favorite, including the episode. Sure, it's got problems it's own, but this extremely accurate portrayal of what my own situation with one of my parents just stole my entire soul. Yeah I got a bit of tears about to come out, BUT NOPE! NOT TODAY! I don't ever cry during shows or movies so if I ever get teary-eyed, YOU DID SOMETHING. THAT SOMETHING BEING GOOD. This episode was emotional and connected with me on a deep level that I dont think any film has ever done to me, which is weird because I've been actively trying to find one, any one that does. Then to find it in an indie company from a creator who has achieved the dreams that I myself want to one day? That's fucking amazing.

FORESHADOWING! FROESHADOWING! FORESHADOWING! VAGGIE EX-ANGEL THEORY MUST BE CANON AND IF ITS NOT I WILL TEAR MYSELF LIMB FROM LIMB WITH A CROWBAR. LETS GO TO HEAVENNN!!! TOMORROW! BECAUSE THE DAY I PUBLISH THIS WILL BE TOMORROW(FOR YOU TODAY) BUT TOMORROW FOR YOU ILL POST THE NEXT WHAT I CAUGHT SHENANIGANS AGAIN! SEE YA!

[jazjelspen]

leaving on wild charted waters [pt.2]

(what if our mc just got tired of Night Raven College and it's inhabitants?)

(what if our mc meets a boy of red hair and blue eyes to show them the way around RSA?)

(also please read the small authors notes at the bottom if you make it that far T-T)

it's been a good short hours on the ship and this whole time you've been chatting up a storm with your new friend Rielle, and during this time you've both actually warmed up and learned a handful about each other! 

you learned about each other's basic favorite things like colors, food, subjects, and even in music! Conversations seemed to flow smoothly like water between you two and you even learned how enchanting and magical his singing voice sounds, it almost had you entranced.

your new friend and you were now having a moment of silence while taking in the sounds of the water splashing against the ship until the boy spoke.

"if you don't mind me asking-- and I don't mean to pry! just that.." Rielle spoke while he nodded his head forward towards the direction of your cast holding your broken arm."is the reason why you're wounded related to your experience in Night Raven?... you don't have to answer if you don't want to I'm just genuinely curious." he gave you a comforting smile and his eyes were right on you, listening intently.

you gave a half-hearted and sheepish smile as you looked away and quickly started reminiscing about the events these past few months had in store for you in your head before you started to speak.

"well... in a way yes. I don't want to point any fingers--" you did want to point fingers, in fact you had many people to point fingers to. you sighed as you lightly shook your head in disappointment whilst facing the ship's floor "there were people who should've just done their job." your face started to form in a bit of a scowl "then maybe, just maybe... I wouldn't be in this state."

the young man formed an 'o' with his lips as he understood what you're trying to say.

"hmm..I see.. I'm very sorry _____, I promise that with my friends and I you'll never get a scratch on you while you're with us! and if it makes you feel any better, our staff too is always responsible and capable of finding a solution for any problem you're facing!" Rielle tried his best to sound optimistic and uplifting with the brightest smile on his face to get your frown turn upside down! and to also make you feel a little more confident in yourself as to give you more hope that your situation will turn around.

his very short speech made your head turn towards him and as he intended, you smiled warmly back with a new spark of optimism rising in your chest.

"thank you Rielle, that's... very kind of you." you spoke "I'm sure that while I'm with you, I'll at least have less than half of the injuries I have now."

he chuckled softly before responding to your comment "i'm sure you'll have few to none."

there was a moment where you two just looked at each other, both smiling and chuckling with the cold yet fresh sea breeze hitting both of your faces and the last few shines of the setting sun hitting both of your faces so perfectly. when you both calmed down you could feel this feeling of optimism rise up in your system even further.

this guy, his school-- you had a really good feeling about this change.

as well as a terrible feeling but about NRC.

but you didn't want to think much of it, not right now at least.

 on Rielle's side he genuinely feels and understands your predicament, having to adapt into a strange new world that works differently than your own home does... he gets the feeling of being a total fish out of water. so because of this he feels he has this kind of connection with you because of this small detail you both have in common.

but in a really random way you also couldn't help but notice how ethereal the shade of blue was in his eyes.

you were about to ask a question but were rudely interrupted when the sailors of the ship were yelling from up above and hanging on the ropes beside the sails, announcing that the ship is now slowly arriving towards the school.

the news made you automatically want to stand up and get a good look of the school. to then have your eyes finally meet the shape of a large white castle as the focal point with the peaks of each of it's towers glistening while still being overshadowed by the shining and setting sun behind. the scene was breathlessly magical with the special touch of this entire moment being the mixed splashes of orange, deep purple, and yellow of the sky blending in with the glistening waters of the calm ocean.

Rielle slowly stood up beside you while facing the school as well "amazing isn't it? seeing the academy shining against the sunset is one of my favorite things to see here." he said before he took in a big inhale of the ocean air to then exhale, taking in the scene and all it's beauty.

"you're damn right it's amazing." you chuckled at your comment before Rielle quickly joined in too in a shared chuckling fit. For the rest of your time on the ship you two decided to just calmly enjoy the view until the ship reached ashore.

Let's speed up to now reaching and stopping on the shore.

A gangplank was set down for you and any other residents to hop off the ship. Rielle and you slowly yet excitedly walked off at the exit to finally walk down to RSA-- that was until Rielle stopped you before you could step a foot on the large plank.

"Here, let me help you out my friend." Rielle then offered a helping hand by extending his elbow out, asking you to link your uninjured arm around his as a way to help and avoid slipping but also because he's just a gentleman at heart.

you gave him a smile and a small 'thank you' as you accepted his offer while linking both of your arms together with him(or only hold onto his arm with your hand, whichever you feel comfy with)and carefully walked off the ship with him at your side. when you two find yourselves on the shore at the edge of the sea you could feel a bit of nervousness now in your system since to you it seems like you're in a whole new world. Rielle noticed this and in another attempt to cheer you up he gently tugged at your arm that you linked with him to have you look at him, to give you a reassuring smile.

"You'll be just fine _____, I'll show you where you need to go if you'd like. just know I'll be right here with you."

His words started to sink in as you gave him a hesitant nod but a strong statement,

"Let's do this."

Meanwhile... at Night Raven College..

well... I'll save all the NRC chaos in the next post, it deserves it's own chapter ;)

(will include descriptive yet somewhat short reactions of only house leaders unless there is demand for other characters)

(also if you're confused why I had a ship travel you to RSA instead of just going through the forest and through the town I completely forgot that the isle of sages housed both NRC and RSA 💀💀but im already this far in so pretend it makes sense please T-T)

[meowssmer]

why are leaks becoming so popular. i don't want to see you take something sacred to the creator and spill it out like fucking garbage. i'm tired and i have a job. i don't have the time to keep up with every single little thing and i don't feel like i should. what if the leaks are fake? what if the published product is nothing like the leaks? can you sincerely be mad when you've literally taken everything they worked so hard on and just shat it out in the lowest possible quality on twitter?

so what if i just want to enjoy dandadan once a week as it releases? so what if i want to read the full chapter of jjk once it's officially out? so what if i don't want to know about the story leaks of fields of mistria and just play it as the updates come? can i not fucking enjoy something as it is anymore? these creators have been hit with a modern beast (that is leakers) and have no idea how the fuck to deal with them. i'm not saying leaks have never existed, but never have they been publicly shared and renowned like this EVER.

and before anyone gets in here complaining "you can block certain tags and accounts so you don't see them"— be so fucking honest with me— can you really? when people tag leaks as spoilers and rarely ever fucking tag spoilers, and no matter who i block accounts from all over the world will keep reposting the same shitty leaks all over my page, do you sincerely believe in your strangely optimistic view that you can avoid leaks??? the only way i can enjoy these new shows, games, books, etc. is by literally blocking the main tag for all of them and i don't want to do that. i love seeing the fan art, theories, analyses, fan fiction, whatever comes out. genuinely, why do i have to do this just to enjoy something?