#love playing with shape language
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Hollyleaf- ms paint with a mouse
#warrior cats#warriors#thunderclan#hollyleaf#a college friend has access to the gaming room on campus#he lets me in and so ive been doodle these kitties#on ms paint on super nice computers hahahaha#love playing with shape language
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the quadrilateral boys
#my art#ace attorney#aa5#i will be adding other characters in the morning as well lol#probably klavier (triangle) sebastian (trapezoid) and nahyuta (oval)#simon blackquill#bobby fulbright#i wont tag ship since theyre just standing next to each other but yall follow your heart. i love them#shapes are my favorite thing to play with when i drsw#when i was like 10 i watched dina norlunds shape language video and it stuck with me. thank you dina i love you i miss you you
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“Reborn,” Moon Knight: Fist of Khonshu (Vol. 2/2024), #2.
Writer: Jed MacKay; Penciler and Inker: Alessandro Cappuccio; Colorist: Rachelle Rosenberg; Letterer: Cory Petit
#Marvel#Marvel comics#Marvel 616#Moon Knight: Fist of Khonshu#Moon Knight: Fist of Khonshu vol. 2#Moon Knight: Fist if Khonshu 2024#Moon Knight comics#latest release#Moon Knight#Marc Spector#Iron Man#Tony Stark#you can’t tell me Mr. At One Point Had His Own Star Trek Uniform didn’t immediately clock the classic#«I’m a doctor not a…» set up hahaha#(Although maybe I’ve played too much Rainbow Six Siege because it also reminded me of Jäger’s «I’m an engineer not a medic!»#love that guy ANYWAY)#okokokok this is….interesting#I’m I guess you could say intrigued that so far it seems this volume is shaping up to make addressing Marc’s self-proclaimed addiction#to violence a central theme as it’s come up in both comics released so far#I guess I never thought they’d take it seriously since such descriptions of one reason why Marc does what he does is because he’s hooked#on the sort of high-octane rush that comes with combat have popped up in his comics for years#but that language was pretty common in 80’s and 90’s comics portraying tough guy characters willing to kill people#but it’ll be interesting to me at least to see how this more serious approach will develop#Mr. MacKay has given me little reason to doubt him so far but if they continue with this#idea of treating addiction seriously since they’re using the language associated with it I hope they’ll address it#with the appropriate gravity such a topic necessitates#anyway don’t mind me musing in the tags
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DNDADS OCS, BUT THIS TIME ITS S2
THIS TIME i present TWO . TWICE the character for One post because i couldnt be bothered to make 2 debut ref sheets for them both
Luis and Santiago Sanchez, originally made as dnd characters for a campaign that never took off, so i smushed em in s2
here's an introductory comic to how luis and lark met, simply cause ive had this comic in my sketchbook for ages and it makes me cackle everytime
fun facts below the cut!! [i wrote more than expected]
☆ i made them sometime in 2022, before the s2 teens made it to heaven, so now idk how they can be part angelic considering angels r just eyeballs, but fuck it. if there can be half demon characters, there can be half angel
☆ theyre both peruvian [because i dont see enough peruano characters in media istfg]
☆ newly moved in to san dimas! moved in the same neighborhood as the oak-swallows-garcia family
☆ i believe these are pre-season 2 ep 1 ocs. like, maybe a year or 2 before the events of s2? idk . time is fake
☆ some inspiration for these two was taken from jim and barbara from trollhunters! i still love that show so i blended it with my own experiences and dndads and here. mental illness incarnate
LUIS
☆ bisexual nurse dad! since he was supposed to be a dnd pc, i had him as a life cleric, so to explain for his healing magic i decided to have him be ½ celestial, maybe aasimar
☆ that being said, he does not know of any non-human heritage nor magical healing. he just thinks he's naturally good at healing
☆ having magic immediately puts him on lark's radar, leading him to investigate luis. luis is just happy to have a new friend
☆ divorced from santiago's mom
☆ can't cook For Shit. it doesnt matter if you give him instructions, if it involves a stove/oven, there will be smoke
SANTIAGO
☆ transgender king!!! he/they legend!!! no im not projecting dont @ me /j
☆ chismoso/nosey to the point where, in san dimas, a hotbed for doodler activity, it puts him in danger. and you best believe he's snooping on this weird dude who's hanging around his dad so much [lark]
☆ new transfer to teen high! mainly just concerned with joining the track team
☆ unfortunately also the king of running in his binder. god save this kid
☆ due to celestial heratige, hates taylor swift's part demonic energy - he chalks this up to just not liking his vibe
#feel free to ask anything i love molding and shaping these guys. they are play doh to me#also i know i wrote 'chismosA' instead of 'chismosO' for santi . thats on me#didnt mean to misgender my own boy but in my defense anytime ive used the word 'chismosa' in referral to men my parents never corrected me#shoutout immigrant parents who forget to properly teach the language <3 i love my mama#my art#dungeons and daddies#dndads#dndaddies#dndads oc#oc: luis sanchez#oc: santiago sanchez#lark oak#lark oak garcia#i believe this counts as oc x cannon . right? i feel like it fits the quota
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@elmushterri so……... what if i made The Knights Handbook ocs… what then…..
this is Eris! (she/any, 19 years old) i’d imagine she’d be one of the higher ranking knights, like a Liutenant or General or sort. she’s definitely one of the more fighting-oriented knights, using her fists to fight melee. She’s outgoing and loud and fun!
Her Mortal Wound is a heart shape, but half is on each hand so she can summon her gauntlets on both hands. She died protect one of her siblings from some kind of danger, possibly an abusive parent or something.
She also dyes her hair, but died before she could touch up her roots, so they’re visible in her casual forms. In their knight form they fixed it.
On the flip side is Serena (she/her, 19 years old), who is definitely the opposite of Eris. She She’s a scaredy cat and not the type to be brave enough to protect someone at all, which is why it’s surprising that she’s a knight - shy, mellow, and more observant.
Her mortal wound is a shooting crosshair that is in the shape of a diamond. She died in a natural disaster and was pointing people in the direction of safety before she perished.
As for combat skills, she’s a good shooter with pretty stellar aim, but always gets scared by the noise/recoil on her gun… she’s doing her best!
they’re so yuri…………..
i think they’d definitely be the type to support Sidra instead of Jules. Eris definitely appreciates Sidra’s enthusiasm to lead well and her combat skills!
#the knight’s handbook#tkh#this story is SO FIRE and guys to be so real…. i love elmushterris videos……..#and i had fun with these! i had so much fun playing around with shape language and colors and designs…. it was a good exercise!#and they came out so clean!#i did serena’s reference on procreate but eris’s reference on ibis…. so they look different.. i am sorry#my art
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can you tell i love shapes
#GRHGJKGRJG I LOVE MESSING WITH SHAPE LANGUAGE#also heh had a lot of fun with starlo (he was torture to pose. i resketched him 5 times)#but besides that his shape language is pretty unique in the way it plays with silhouettes#the poncho and his broad shoulders hide the fact that he's actually pretty skinny under that#adds to the north star facade#anyways i'll shut up now#my art#doodles#not tagging with uty cuz this is honestly just a silly sketch n i haven't colored yet!
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a while ago i accidentally bent a g.pangolin electrode (those things are made of gold) the world was covered in conductive gel time is passing unreal lvls of quick they know my heart is yours
#a mark per line. i want to learn how to play the santoor linguistic communication is a two way process. candle dances like theres someone#burning in it. both listeners and speakers need to adjust for successful communication. give two examples of how listeners might adjust to#speakers. a quick rum picks you up. speakers assimilate. speakers adjust to mispronunciation. my cat is guarding the living room#my friend is stuck in abstraction hell. how might speakers adjust to listeners? laziness leads to permanent language changes and neonates#recognise the rhymes their mothers sang to them before birth. we know this because we have a way to quantify familiarity. i wonder if my#heart too would slow if i heard your voice . are you free on the 7th? i'd love it if youre there even for a little bit.#he said i dont know when ill see you again. ill see you whenever you want. i have an exam the next day and an event i'm not going to#full of beautiful monsters. shes taking her girls instead. shell be on her motorbike overclocked. from 7 hours to 9 days after#birth neonates can habituate to basic 2d shapes. i was in your living room in some latent space between solid and not. ive grown#complacent and overfilled and lazy in their warmth. my friends keep me alive and undervolted. too much sun to care for the important things#that arent you. she escapes to a small town with a book alone for meditation. she tells me she cuts fabric for the girls blood in their eye#i wish you never met my lips. shes back in lancaster. hes back from her cave full of velvet and rivers and sand#go on girl punch like you mean it#kick like i taught you.
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EXTREMELY CRUSTY but I’ve been working on oc designs in between DC prompts. My little meow meows im so sorry i neglected you (i will inevitably do it again </3)
#the enterprise of evil#holden romero-cortes#dolly cooper#aurora lincoln#jo hawkins#tagging with full names to separate these from my old enterprise stuff (which im still fond of! but is just being slowly reworked)#mine#i literally always forget to tag my stuff with that#oc art#ocs#anyway BOOM design updates. uhh holdens much the same just some stronger shape language + cute socks and headband :]#aurora isn't skinny anymore (BLESSED BE) and i redid her hair very fun. the skirt is her old cheerleading skirt#she's wearing it as a weird power play to the cheersquad. but it's also a little sad <3#she has headphones too bc she's the sound guy#dolly has a slightly less generic haircut. magnus said he looks archie coded and i very much agree#also switched up his blazer design. very cool i likes it very much#i tried to give jos hair a more exaggerated graphic quality but i don't have thr most experience drawing protective hairstyles-#-so if anyone wants to weigh-in feel free! she also has the white streak now. either bc it's plot relevant or bc she's a weeb#currently undecided. and jo likes to play the most with her uniform bc she doesn't respect Desdemona or her family-#-and also she's alternative. and everyone in foolshope loves jo and would take mob action if Desdemona was mean to her#meanwhile Holden has the most complete uniform bc she has internalised notions of respectability and-#-'gaming the system' by being a part of it. oh sweet darling you have no idea the trouble that will get you into later#anyway enterprise 2.0 doesn't have much of a reworked plot yet but this was fun#i was (initially lmao) trying to simplify them for potential comic usage but uh. we'll see#anyway yeah lol for all 5 ppl who remember these goobers. behold
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This is so stunning holy shit! The colors are so beautiful
porcelain prince
#/pos#oh my god#porcelain prince#damn#wonderful rendering#I love how the shape language#looks like pottery#I see teacups and played#plates*#and that fragility really adds to this piece !#nice art :)
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[SPOILERS] Homicipher Is Actually Romantic, Convince Me Otherwise [Analysis/Opinion] [SFW]
Word count: 3,332
Edit: 11/7/2024
[Feel free to skip to the last objective "Individual route discussion + what made it romantic" if you want to get straight to the point]
Homicipher is truthfully a romantic (or platonic) game. It is a game that has to be looked at from a different perspective when it comes to love/romance. A game where you have to take in consideration of the characters and the nature of their 'other world'. Today's post will discuss into what I believe made Homicipher an oddly, but romantic game, despite its shortcoming and abrupt ends.
⚠️[MAJOR LORE/CHARACTER ROUTE SPOILERS] ⚠️
Discussion Objectives:
Definition of Love & how it plays into Homicipher
The nature of the 'other world' and ghosts
Individual route discussion + what made it romantic (thoughts)
What Is Love & How Does It Play Into Homicipher?
Love has many layers of definition and associations. Maybe, that is why some may deem Homicipher to be "unromantic" and some disagree on that thought. It also varies based on the type of content/exposure you had consume in the category of love [whether romantic or platonic]. Socially, from a common standpoint, love is a strong attachment or affection for someone. Often from a social standpoint associated with dates, affection, and intimacy. However, love is always changing, since it is a social script on what its suppose to be, and changes as society progresses. Some notions stay the same but some begin to change (just like how language and certain concepts begin to change in the other world, a different society from our own). For the sake of a "true" definition of love. I will be using the definition offered by the Oxford Language Dictionary. So, what is love?
Love as a noun is...
"An intense feeling of deep affection"
"A great interest and pleasure in something"
"A person or thing that one loves"
Love as a verb is...
"Feel deep affection for (someone)"
"Like or enjoy very much"
Not long after its release there had been a fair number of comments/reviews criticizing Homicipher for its lack of romance. This claim is NOT entirely wrong. From the expectations of a "normal" Otome/dating sim it doesn't necessarily meet the requirements because of its lack of intimacy, affection and interest from a HUMAN/SOCIETAL perspective. We must remember that romance/love does not necessarily equate to kissing, hand holding, and intimacy especially considering that these are the HUMAN (societal) views on what romance/love is. A concept that had become lost in the 'other world'. So how can we call Homicipher romantic if we have to cross out the influence of our society? The answer is that we can't fully avoid it, HOWEVER, we must be open to a different perspective of what 'their' version of love is (platonic love/or romantic). No matter how lacking, dense, twisted and grotesque the moments we have spent with these ghosts are. In some shape and form it CAN equate itself to love (platonic/ or romantic). I think a lot of people forget that time itself can be equate to some complicated level of love. The fact you spend time with someone, and it develops to something further for worse or better, something that even love may not be able to name, is what this game demonstrates.
Homicipher has a consistent theme, the loss of truth, the acceptance of ignorance and the concept of eternity. Which shockingly is where the romance comes from. When we allow ourselves to rot in that world. When we ignore the exit and choose to stay, is where the romance comes through. Love is complicated. What can I say?
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The Nature of the 'Other World' & Ghosts
Alot of the ghosts we encounter can be friendly, but also just as deadly. We hear it from almost all of the casts warning or discussing about how dangerous a lot of the ghosts (including themselves) roam in this world, and in different endings, succumb to this danger ourselves. The longer we stay in this world, we soon start to become no different. As we, a human, begin to slowly transform into a different entity. We begin to react more violently (though it can be argued that since our MC is a serial killer, she might have just been violent and cruel in general). When angered, or things start not to go her way, she gets filled with bloodlust and takes it out on who she's with. Killing is a common thing to do in this world, especially when experiencing anger, sadness and even boredom. The concept of death is a little complicated as they can easily regenerate themselves back to "life". As the game progresses, we learn that some of these ghosts cannot grasp certain concepts (such as love), remember their own name and self, and don't have exact words (sometimes none) for items.
When sometimes even confessing that you like some of the ghosts they question you, and state that they cannot understand you or that feeling (platonic/ or romantic). We are in a setting that is beyond the mortal realm, there aren't any exactly "ideal" dates in a place different from the moral realm... so you're going to be stuck in a scary place, having a scary "date".
However just because they cannot understand the concept of love, doesn't meant that they can't feel it. It is something that the body may still feel, and the mind not being able to put an identity to that feeling or even situation, since meanings and concepts get lost within this realm. The fact that we are allowed to spend an eternity in this realm, with our handsome casts of ghosts. Is oddly and sadly romantic. For Mr. Crawling it is his devotion and loyalty to you, it is how he worries and cares for you, it is his affection and attempts to soothe you. For Mr. Silvair it is his care for you (as research of course lol), your usefulness (which is why he is attracted to you), but even then, one of his endings he keeps you as a head, when you had become useless to him. For Mr. Gap he finds you intriguing, he wants to play and follow you around, always asking for parts of you with consent, loves to brag about himself to you. For Mr. Chopped it is his want to rely on you, to feel safe with you, to protect him, to spend time with him. For Mr. Hood it his willingness to help you for an eternity, to roam with you forever, keeping you away from danger. For Mr. Machete it is the fact you both spend an eternity searching for a home together, to suffer boredom together, to suffer within each other's presence. For Mr. Scarletella it is his obsession for you and his willingness to spend an eternity with you.
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Individual Routes + What Made Them Romantic
[Not in any particular order]
Mr. Crawling
If I had to rank who had the most "romantic" route overall, it would be Mr. Crawling. With the definition usage of love from the Oxford dictionary, verb and noun he checks all the list. Not only that, but we spend time with him the most out of all the other casts. He was the very first ghost we meet (briefly in the beginning) and got stuck with. We are like a baby bird imprinting on him because we saw him first and spent time with him the most, so of course we might feel the most attached to him compared to the others. As the game progresses Mr. Crawling doesn't fail to let us know that he cares for us and our safety warning us of the dangers that come and explaining how to navigate our way around danger. He expresses his worries when we disappeared. He seems to have some concept of love (platonic/ or romantic) as he admittedly tells us that he likes us and ask us if we like him. He expresses how he wants to follow and protect us. He also has so many cute scenes! Scenes where he pats our head, scenes where we lay together, chat a lot together. He is devoted and loyal to us, never harming us even once.
We even get a scene where he gets jealous when we called Mr. Chopped cute with the cat headband! So, he also makes an attempt to be cute too! We are always together with him, and that makes us BOTH happy. Although we don't have our traditional romantic dates like shopping, movie night. We get a bed scene and get to take him back home with us.
There are many types of romance. Platonic and romantic. You the reader/player is allowed to view it however you want. The game does not punish you for the lack of interactions with the casts. You just end up missing out on certain scenes/moments with them is all. However, for the sake of this post I will be making attempts to talk about the romantic aspect (but platonic romance can also be put into place).
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Mr. Silvair
lt's apparent that Mr. Silvair keeps us as research material and confines us in his lair. He is interested in our body, and also interested in returning our mind/intellect back to its original state. It is this interest in us that makes him "love" us. Does confinement and research count as love? Well...maybe not in terms of human definition but in the Mr. Silvair way, it's the closest thing you can get to romantic (or platonic). Afterall, the concept of love has become lost in this world.
I believe he still has some attachment to us, because in the ending A Head's Life, he still keeps you as a companion along with Mr. Chopped. He claims that you are no longer useful/capable but that it is okay, as long as danger is no longer here. When you choose to ask him why he did what he did and ask if he likes you, he tells you it was for research and that love is something he cannot understand. He also doesn't understand why you get so angry when he helped you return your intellect back. He still though has some sort of concept of empathy, because in his route when you choose to kill him and hide yourself away. He comes follow you and expresses that he's sorry and tells you a little about himself. He allows you free will, at this point, allowing you to leave him or stay with him.
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Mr. Gap
Mr. Gap always wants a piece of us, literally. Why does he? Because it's just for fun. The most interaction we get with him is through the multiple crevices within this world and the short route he gets in chapter 4. He takes but sometimes may give. However, he doesn't fail to be thoughtful. It's hilarious how in chapter 4 when he offers us a crowbar in exchange for your heart, you can just smack him for it with no consequences. He also likes to brag about himself to you which honestly is a little cute. With his ending Return, we only have him left in the 'other world'. Our comfort lies with him, although he may be a little annoying, he is the only one we have left. We maybe have become a little codependent on him, but maybe he likes that?
God his annoyed/disgusted face is so hilarious, do it again Mr. Gap! He seems to stick around with us mainly just for funsies and being nosy, and honestly, he is so real for that. But it seems he likes to stay around with us at least. In the return end he is with us, and continues to stay lurking, perhaps watching over us until he is needed. Quite handy am I right? Haha.
He is depicted as quite the gentleman, but also just as fun and teasing. There are times where he does help you with no charge, such as barging into his hole (the face he makes in that scene is hilarious). Again, when presented with beating him for your crowbar, he gets a little upset but, honestly still helps you out. He probably thinks violence is funny which is why he constantly still teases you by asking to take away your body parts. It's just too fun!
Someone had brought up to my attention that Mr.Gap tends to ask for parts that can be easy to part with as we progress. Asking for our feet, legs, and fingers instead, when he seems to still clearly prefer the heart over the other parts. He adjusts his request when he realizes we won’t give our heart.
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Mr. Chopped
Mr. Chopped is just a head; how can he possibly be or have anything romantic? Well, not necessarily to the level of Mr. Crawling but, we get to have a few small moments with him and spend some time with him. Since he is just a head, he can't help but need to rely on others. Of course, he has to be selectively about it because falling in the wrong hands devastates him.
Mr. Chopped when he gets forced into playing with the deer child, he seems happy to see a familiar face and calls us out to help him. Our poor baby was in trouble!
His ending head hunt is tragically sad but also bittersweet. MC cares so much about Mr. Chopped that she spends an eternity as an entity searching for a lost head, searching for Mr. Chopped who she failed to rescue.
During his own special route Mr. Chopped does his best to help us, but there is only so much a head can do. To make up for his lack of body though, he seems to be more expressive with his mouth and emotions. We get to take him to get a haircut and wash his hair. This seems pretty date like to me. Although our time was abrupt and short with Mr. Chopped. It makes me happy that we get this small, cute scene with him, which makes him much more lovable.
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Mr. Hood
Mr. Hood protects you from harm, and also heeds your commands. He also carries you around. He means no harm and is there to guide. He cares for your safety and seems to dislike anything dangerous or threatening towards him and others that he protects.
At the end of his route, he states how often you get in danger and takes you with him, telling you that he must protect you since you asked him to (referring to an earlier scenario when you asked him to stay with you, when you reunited with Mr. Crawling and the others, but he leaves). So I would assume he would always be by your side now eternally staying together and protecting you from danger when needed. How cute! Some people are into that. But personally, for me Mr. Hood felt more like a father/brother to me. Maybe it was because he was always willing to guide us? But some people are into the brotherly/fatherly type of men, and hey I don't judge.
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Mr. Machete
At first, I did not see the appeal to Mr. Machete, he seemed like a ghost that killed for boredom and most of the time we just followed him around aimlessly...WELL, after playing his route and letting it soak in my brain. That is entirely the whole point of his character. He is a ghost that had become bored because he had too much time on his hands and continues to search for his home. He is our tsundere dummy macho ghost, and honestly, I love that about him. He could've killed us again like how he tried earlier, but after that first attempt, he reluctantly allows us to follow him. It's funny how much he runs away if the odds are against him, and when he mocks us it's even more hilarious. Mr. Machete likes us if we are strong opponent for him, he even expresses that he thinks we are fun and likes us when we defeat Mr. Hugeface on our own.
Not going to lie, I fell for Mr. Machete right here. We were low on blood, and he just slices his hand, FEEDING us HIS BLOOD. Like OMG that was so hot, he opens our mouth forceful, and we drink his blood. He somewhat cares about us, to be doing all of that for us. After that we get a timed choice to stall or follow him. When you choose to stall he pauses with you and asks if you're okay and to catch up with him. For someone who had been reluctant and annoyed at us for following him, took a moment of his time to wait for you. He WANTED you to tag along with him. We then venture on with him aimlessly searching for his and our home. Torturing each other with our presences. But maybe, just maybe, they can slowly become that home together that they were searching for.
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Mr. Scarletella
I LOVE HIM SO MUCH. At first, he appears to be just any ghost that wants to attack us. It took me a while to warm up to him because of so little we knew about him. I thought he wanted to take our name for fun/or collection, but then it's revealed that he knows us. That he harbors some sort of love and obsession for us and believes that we love him because of all the blood and bodies we "offered" him. In a twisted way, this situation is a cute and romantic misunderstanding. Mr. Scarletella fell in love with us for providing him many blood and bodies. He wants us to spend an eternity with him. He WANTS to spend an eternity with us. He invites us to this other world because perhaps he wants us to become a ghostly being just like him, or maybe he wants to have easier access to us (since his myth that he only appears on rainy days) to meet us. Although we didn't get to have as many interactions with him, that is what makes this love toxic. It is a parasocial love, he fell in love with us from afar. When you piece everything together with your dictionary the words he proposes to you sound like wedding vows when you give your name to him. Which make it all so more lovely, even if he takes our soul away.
(My translation/interpretation of the scene, where he asks for your name)
Chapter 2, Scene 24
Scarletella: "You found your name...?"
Scarletella: "Teach me your name." (ARF ARF WRARF)
Scarletella: "I want you." (YES PLEASE)
Scarletella: "Will you give your name?" (OF COURSE)
Scarletella: "Your name?" (👁️👄👁️)
*You give him your name here*
Scarletella: "I have your name."
Scarletella: "I have obtained you." (YES YOU DID, COME TAKE ME)
Scarletella: "Let's leave together." (ARF ARF WRARFFFFFFFF)
Scarletella: "I love you"
Scarletella: "And you love me."
Scarletella: "You gave it to me...Thank you" (I'LL GIVE YOU IT ALL)
Scarletella: "Forever/eternally together..." (YES SIR)
Scarletella: "Together." (ARF ARF WRARRF ARFA)
He is quite the romancer hehe. It seems like Mr. Scarletella has some form of concept when it comes to love, which is to be together forever, even if you end up as a blood pool. Together is together.
I find it interesting how his two endings: Scarletella and Scarlet Rain parallels each other so well. In the Scarletella ending, we (mc unknowingly) give our consent to being together forever with Mr. Scarletella, but we are still alive. When MC wakes up, she sees a clear umbrella on the floor and picks it up. I believe that we have now embodied or spirited the umbrella, spending eternity with Mr. Scarletella. He owns us now.
However, in the Scarlet Rain end he becomes ours, the umbrella stays red, and we still, eternally are together forever.
#文字化化#homicipher#mojibake#mozibake#mr crawling#mr chopped#mr silvair#mr gap#mr machete#mr scarletella#mr hood#homicipher analysis#homicipher thoughts#homicipher opinion#homicipher game
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soft-tummy simon riley save me… cause you cannot look at that man and tell me he doesn’t love to eat!! like, a constant snacker. and his heart absolutely swells when you indulge so heavily in his needs.
it’s practically his love language, to scarf down anything you put on the table in front of him, and you can certainly tell since now he’s not nearly in the same shape as he was when you found him.
he likes to think you’ve fixed him in a way; spending his evenings cuddling in bed for hours on end with you, rather than heading to the gym for the second time that day to burn off dinner. thanking you for the savory meal with kisses all over instead of fighting off the impulse to purge his usual bland chicken breast and vegetables every night.
and it all hits him far, far deeper than just his gut; feeling it in his heart more than the soft layer of fat blanketing his tummy he has to see in the mirror every morning. just the fact that a sweet thing like you wants to take care of him, ensure he eats plentiful yet still healthy for his work, has him whipped. showering him with endless i love you’s and praising him all up and down until his cheeks tint a light, flustered pink and his dick gets achingly hard in his pants.
he won’t pretend the change was easy on him, seeing the clean-cut abs and fit appearance that made him feel young fade away the further you got into your relationship, but he’d also be a filthy liar if he said he didn’t prefer the pros to his current build way more.
simon begins wearing shirts less around the house on his lazy days, at your lovely request of course, and it does feel quite freeing. especially when he’s able to come up behind you in the kitchen, cage you in with his burly arms, bend you over the counter and fuck you senseless because part of the deal was that his shirts would go to you, and with nothing but your lace panties on underneath.
he can’t help but get riled up seeing you walk around like that, and you’re no saint either when you catch a glimpse of his broad chest and relaxed, pillowy belly as he reads the morning newspaper. you tend to drop to your knees and tug at his boxers faster than he can even greet you properly, showing him just how much you love him.
he loves eating you out more than anything, especially with a full tummy after a late meal. you’ll take his and your empty plates to the kitchen to clean up, but you’re being bent over the counter before you can even wipe it down!! and squealing his name in surprise won’t stop him, nor will your giggles as he’s lifting the skirt of your dress to reveal your pretty ass, getting down on his knees and delving right in.
dragging his tongue through your drenched seam, grinning softly against your skin when you jolt and whine out of sensitivity. tongue-fucking your pretty, tight hole only for a moment before he’s returning to messily play with your swollen clit.
and you just know it’s entirely selfish, simon not even paying mind to the way your legs shake and relentlessly convulse and you can barely stay still because his stubble is unceasingly tickling your inner thighs. making you cum until you can’t anymore, and he’s happily forced to carry your numbed, twitchy body to bed so you can catch your breath and rest while he finishes up the chores.
would probably send you off by say something cliché about you being his favorite dessert. he’s so stupid when he’s horny.
simon is weak for when you ride his stomach, with both his hands planted firmly on your hips as you rub your bare pussy back and forth on his hard abdomen. his hidden muscles become more apparent the longer you go at it and the harder he holds you down, little whimpers spilling from your puffy lips as the light hairs coating his tummy create just the perfect amount of friction to your poor, little clit for that hot, familiar sensation in your lower belly to bubble up.
your hands clawing at his chest and shoulders, leaving lines and crescent indents in his skin that soon turn red in their wake, and the pain only turns him on more, his cock excruciatingly hard, long hums of pleasure omitting straight from his throat as he grits his teeth.
“yeah, that’s it, sweetheart—there’s my dirty girl. jus’ keep goin’ for me now, don’t stop… make yourself cum without me touchin’ you down there, ‘nd then i’ll fuck you real nicely after. alright, princess?”
and you soon follow through with just that, nodding decorously with tears welling at your eyes’ waterlines before you’re lurching forward, crying out his name. thighs giving out and fighting to ride out your orgasm, where simon then saves you with his attentive grip on your hips, finishing the job for you rather recklessly.
“good fuckin’ girl… y’did so well for me, love,” and every other gruff, dragged word of praise in his vocabulary echos in your fuzzy mind as you come down from your high.
you’re still catching your breath, fulling laying on his chest by the time he’s inching you backwards whilst taking his hard dick out from his boxers. lifting your weak hips for you as he whispers small, reassuring hushes right by your ear, soothing your winces as he fully sheathes you on his thick cock, inch by fucking inch.
he fucks himself up into you, not daring to make you overwork your body anymore, and he handles you so delicately you could almost fall asleep on his mattress of a body. you crumble to pieces with the vibrations of his chest from his unending groaning, the feeling of his veiny and rough cock stretching and filling you to the brim almost becoming minute compared to the sleepiness washing over you.
“there ya go, pretty… don’t have’ta do any work now, jus’ like i promised, eh?” he coos, and he could feel you smiling against his collarbone. one of his large hands cradles the back of your head while the other gropes at your ass lovingly. “takin’ me just fine, sweet girl.”
you bury your heated face into his squishy pectoral, whining at the overstimulation to your clit at the particular angle, left so utterly sensitive from your prior orgasm. you’re limp in his strong hold, securer than ever as he lifts your hips up and down his thick cock.
he uses your tender cunt ‘til he’s satisfied, groaning right up against your ticklish ear when he empties his hot cum in your throbbing pussy, the perfect thing milking him dry and turning you exhausted.
he actually sits in the moment for a peaceful while, coddling you against his rising and falling chest and murmuring sweet praises, until eventually his disciplined brain kicks in despite your protests.
“don’t go passin’ out on me yet, sweetheart.” you grumble out a refusing noise which makes him laugh softly, but apparently it’s not enough to win him over. “let’s go get you cleaned up, yeah?”
(simon and his size difference & free use kinks go CRAZY in this one. also this instagram reel is so him coded ok bye bye <3 cont.)
#cod mw#simon riley#ghost cod#simon ghost riley#simon riley smut#ghost smut#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost x female reader#simon riley x female reader
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XMAS DINNER GOES WRONG – 정우영
⋆ synopsis. it seems like your husband can’t keep it in his pants, not even on a fucking christmas dinner with his family. but, as the lovely wifey you are, you gotta give him some relief, right?
pairing. husband! jung wooyoung & fem! reader.
wc. 3,2k
warnings. smut (mdni!), suggestive language, cussing, almost!! getting caught by wooyoung’s mom (oops), pet names (love, babe, my wife, pretty girl & more), nipple play, wooyoung sucks your entire skin (neck, collarbone, tits and the list can continue…), teasing, wooyoung tears your panties to shreds heh, not dirty—NASTY TALK, begging, yn at some point says “stop” but it’s bc she’s far too blissed out; not bc she actually wanted him to stop, this is alllll consensual!!, unprotected sex, praise ofc, squirting, gut-wrenching fluff in the end ‘cause love him too much.
nic’s notes ⋆ first ff of the xmas event yes sir !! i felt some shit writing this istg (๑/////๑ " )
you know holidays, right?
the perfect opportunity for the entire family to gather and celebrate achievements, blessings, and thousands and thousands of other things. cousins, nephews, aunts, uncles, and even great-grandparents were reunited in that cold and windy winter night. an entire feast was splayed on the table for everyone’s delightfulness, different kinds of foods and smells mixing and creating a delicious, toe-curling experience for anyone’s nostrils.
the hours you had spent shopping for every ingredient for each dish, cutting the vegetables, cooking everything to the exact, perfect point and term really paid off once your and your husband’s family were brought together at the large, dark oak table to celebrate your very first holiday — both families now joined together as one.
nothing could go wrong. the chatting flew as calm and joyful as spring water, sharing experiences and old memories pleasingly, smiles spread like the most enchanting disease—as well as the wholesome ambience, and everything was accompanied by a delightful meal, the well-deserved five star bonus of the evening.
so, if everything was meant to go perfectly, then why the hell was your husband staring at you with the most explicit, sluttiest “fuck me” eyes you’ve ever seen?
wooyoung sat in front of you, his two cousins sitting each on his sides. his plate was rather full, and that had an explanation: he was far too gone and busy burying heart-shaped daggers into your eyes while his hand cupped his cheek, head tilting to his right — his tongue glided over his dry bottom lip every now and then. you’d bet that none of his thoughts were in the bible. ‘cause fuck, even his younger brother would guess that something’s odd about him. that that’s not the usual behavior of his dear older brother.
“yn? darling?” the voice of wooyoung’s mother dragged out quickly of your insulation bubble. her tilted head clearly showed that she had been trying to talk to you for a while. a soft, warming hue of red struck your cheekbones.
as you gyrated your head to meet her worried gaze, you replied. “yes! mrs. jung, ‘m sorry. what were you saying?”
“are you doing fine, sweetie? you were gone for a bit.” she stared at you intently, genuinely worried about her daughter in-law. oh that woman was almost a fallen angel—if not one. if only she knew it was his own son who was to blame—the very last person she’d suspect, and oh, how deliciously ironic that was.
the figure of your husband’s shit-eating grin could be seen out of the corner of your eye—a sight that ignited a fiery rage within you, yet one you couldn’t help but savor, lingering on the view as long as possible before responding to your sweet mother-in-law. “oh, it was nothing. i’m prolly just zoning out because of how tired i am. y’ know, spending the entire day in the kitchen was exhausting.” the cherry on top of the excuse was the little, innocent giggle you emitted by the end. the woman gave you the most pitiful, yet endearing look. she lifted her arm, indicating with her open palm the white stairs, the reflection of the christmas-decorated banister lighting up her eyes.
“oh, sweetheart. you should go rest, it’s pretty late after all.” her gesture softened your heart, chest clenching a bit.
this woman was going to be the death of you! … uhm, never mind. first place is taken by wooyoung, who seems quite excited with the idea of going upstairs with you, by the way. take a guess at what his mind is scheming.
you shook your hands in front of your chest, quickly denying the opportunity. “thank you really, but i’m okay. i’ll just go wash my face.” you excused yourself, hovering your leg over the other and getting yourself up. “maybe that way i can wake up completely.” ending with a little giggle, you started walking towards the staircase when suddenly, the voice of your dear husband rang inside your ears.
“excuse me. i’ll go help my wife.” his foxy eyes curved into crescent moons, and his lips stretched wide, forming an upward line. oh fuck, you were done for.
“oh yes, i was about to ask you to do the same. please, son.” she stated, nodding approvingly. oh what a gentleman she had raised.
you resumed your steps quickly, arriving to the second floor in less than you expected. you turned your head, only to be met with an empty corridor. thank goodness he hadn’t gotten there yet.
or so you thought. ‘cause when you refocused your attention to your front, a pair of arms grabbed you by your waist and swung you around the air in a swift motion as he dragged you to an empty room. the last sound heard in the corridor was the slam of a closing door.
your breathless body was pinned against a cold wall, trapped between two quite familiar, tanned arms. simultaneously, your disoriented irises tried to adjust to the darkness of the room and focus on the feverish, hungry eyes standing in front of you.
“wh… what the fuck was that.” you muttered as the remains of your breath flew away. wooyoung seemed enchanted by your current state though.
“heeey, don’t curse at me like that.” his gentle, cocky voice penetrated your mind like a bullet. knuckles crept up the sides of your exposed arms, providing soothing strokes — goosebumps prickled to life in response. he opened his warm palms and reached to your also bare shoulder, massaging them. “after all, ’m jus’ here to help you.” he pulled his secret weapon and started making out with your neck, licking your flesh like a starving man and spreading wet kisses all over it.
“help me? how are you helping me like this?” you uttered as your breath hitched, head leaning to the side at the right angle to give him enough space.
wooyoung sucked that sensitive spot that always made your eyes roll to the very back of your head, dragging a whine out of you successfully. his chuckle and victorious smirk didn’t go unseen by your already blissed-out self. he leaned back a little to admire you. just for a bit, palms not leaving their place. “you’ll know when we’re done.” his hands moved in a swift motion, arms wrapping around your thighs and shoulders, lifting you effortlessly in a princess carry. “for now, just shut up and enjoy it, hm?”
“w-wooyoung—you know we can’t do this now— angh!” your anxious, flustered self made a futile attempt to reason with wooyoung, hoping he’d remember that both your families were gathered downstairs for a fucking christmas dinner—while he, entirely unbothered, seemed more than eager to spend the evening thoroughly ruining you in the bed just one floor above. and that was clearly shown when he threw you to the bed as if you were the lightest feather and immediately crawled to you.
“c’mon, love. i just wanna help you stay awake” his gravelly voice purred gift next to your ear as his taunting hands played with the sides of your dress, fingertips aching and itching to rip it off you.
he had you underneath him, completely flustered and nervous. he knew you were really anxious about the dinner—you’d spent a whole hour straight ranting about how nerve-wracking the preparations were, only to end up feeling physically ill from the overwhelming surge of dopamine flooding your system. but your reddened cheeks were smiling at him and your plump lips were whispering nasty things to him. holy fuck, how couldn’t he be tempted?
he needed to be balls deep in you. now.
his skillful tongue found home in your neck and collarbone, sucking cute love bites all over. but, your body was still tense, too uneasy at the thought of the possible scenario of someone entering the room and catching the two of you in such a compromising position.
“b-babe, please—hmph”
in a sultry tone, he muttered, “already begging. so fucking cute.” a smirk was drawn on his lips before his hands reached to your cleavage and popped your tits out of your low-cut dress. “y’ want me to fuck you? ‘s that what it is?”
before you could even think of an answer, he dived right into your breasts, licking your sensitive nipples as though they were his favorite toy — because they absolutely were.
god, the incessant thoughts that ran through your head and his tongue lapping around your buds were too much. everything was starting to be too much, and he hadn’t even taken your clothes off. with heightened sensitivity, your lips fell open and a beautiful, sweet melody of your moans and whimpers escaped through them — a delightful melody for your husband’s ears.
impatient hands stripped you of your glittery dress, leaving you with nothing but your black, thin panties. wooyoung took a moment for himself — well, more accurately for you, to admire and revel in your beauty as he should. a rush of blood surged to his cock, making it throb even harder than before. he was no more than a man, overwhelmed by desire. “you’re fucking irresistible, y’ know that?” he started down to where your and his crotch connected, brows furrowing when he saw your clothed pussy. “i think it’s time for this to go.”
a sharp rrrrrip! bounced through the walls and brought your attention. “woo did you just—?!” you followed the movement of his hands, which discarded the shreds of black fabric to the floor. “that was my—! hahh” and his thumb flew right to your already swollen clit, stimulating it with circling motions.
“why’re you whining when you know i’ll buy you ten more pairs,” he whispered as he soaked in the unsteady shiftiness of your body — and for that, he posed a strong yet harmless grip on your waist. his fat thumb worked nonstop over your bud, sending sparks right to it. your body jolted upward at the feeling of his middle and index fingers tracing soft lines up your pink folds. the sight of your walls clenching and relaxing around nothing spun him. “ooh, what a greedy wifey i got.” he chuckled under his breath, gaze stuck to his home — and i mean your cunt. “sooo desperate for my fingers, huh?”
at this point, any sense or unsteady thought had already vanished away, completely replaced by a selfish state of mind. you wanted him to finger you, fuck you, drive you insane. and you wanted it right fucking now. and so you mewled, “god, please just do something.”
“got the name wrong, darling.” and with that, he pushed two fingers at once inside your fluttering walls, tugging a satisfied moan out of you. “it’s wooyoung. or hubby” he giggled. he fucking giggled as he rammed those fingers mercilessly, shooting stars and fireworks filling your vision.
“w-wait stop— baby, please— fffuck!” stuttering words and incoherent gibberish spilled from your swollen lips, too red and slick from how often and harshly you’d bitten them; eyes welling up with tears from the intense pleasure overload.
“stop?” a chuckle rumbled through his chest. “fine then” he withdrew his long phalanges, leaving you empty. completely fucking empty, with velvety and throbbing walls already missing him. you cried as you felt the void of your pulsating pussy, but before you could coax a desperate “please” from your lips, wooyoung grabbed you by the waist. you gasped, as he manhandled you, positioning you on top, naked folds grazing his clothed sex.
you pouted and wooyoung laughed. he was finding this shit way too funny. “since you so nicely begged me to stop, then put your back into it, mm?” a loud smack! reverberated through the walls as his heavy palm landed on the flesh of your ass. “fuck yourself on my cock, pretty girl.”
and did he have to tell you twice. desperate, shuddering hands worked on his dress pants, quickly undoing his belt and zipping it down just enough to uncover his rock-hard bulge. you grabbed the band of his boxers and pulled it down as well, his cock springing finally free. with a smooth movement, you took his member and positioned it below you. and just before you sit down on him completely, someone knocked on the fucking door.
the surprise caused you to jolt and lose control, sinking in a faster and sloppier motion than you intended — a loud cry resonating through the thin walls the moment his tip kissed your cervix perfectly. with eyes wide open, you slapped a hand over your mouth, cursing yourself for being so fucking noisy and sensitive and—
“yn? are you in here?” the muffled voice of wooyoung’s mother echoed from the other side of the door.
shit shit shit.
“y-yes, ma’am! i… ’m kinda busy over in here—ugh!” you tried to speak as loud and clear as you could, but wooyoung seemed to be unbothered by your efforts since he grabbed your hips and started swaying your core up and down his girth. up, down, up, down.
you stared at your husband with glaring eyes, stabbing knives into his. fuck, did this man even care about being heard by his own mother? now, with all doubts gone, you’re certain you’ve married a freak.
“are you okay, sweetie? what’s going on over there?”
and you swear you heard the door creaking open, so you exclaimed. “no! everything’s fine!” you yelped, your voice higher-pitched than you intended. “please don’t come in.”
wooyoung chuckled underneath you, soaking in the sight of your nervous self trying to mute your cries as your tits bounced right on his face. he could die right there and then and he’d be happy. “what’s wrong, baby? can’t take it?” he whispered as he gazed directly into your tightly scrunched eyes, your partially open mouth releasing nothing more but silent cries and pleas.
“fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.” you hushed soundlessly, yet willingly bouncing up and down his length. the low, manly giggle he uttered spun you. fuck, he had you wrapped up around his finger.
“oookay? uhm, do you know where my son is? is he there with you?”
he grinned. that shit-eating grin you hated so damn much appeared all across his face. “c’mon pretty, tell her the truth. tell her how good i’m fucking you, how good you’re taking my cock, hm?” he growled into your ear, his voice low and raspy, sending shivers down your spine. the sound was intoxicating, clouding your thoughts and turning your mind into mush.
your throbbing walls clenched around him subconsciously, his head rocking back in reaction. “he’s… he’s here with me, h-helping me like he said he would.”
wooyoung seemed utterly satisfied by your answer, his grin only spreading wider. “that’s my wife. so beautiful.”
“perfect then! i’ll see you in a bit then.” after those words, no other sound was heard — other than the wet clapping of your flesh against his hips.
“‘s she gone?” your half-lidded eyes stared down at your husband, who was hugging you by the waist, face deeply buried in your bobbing, soft tits. your hands flew to the back of his head, cupping his neck whilst caressing his raven hair fondly. at your words, his head lifted, and took a glance at your divine expression.
“baby, i didn’t care, not even a second, if she was hearing or not.” his intoxicating, dark irises sent love letters to yours, utterly drunk in love. “i jus’ wanna cum inside your sweet pussy.”
skillful fingers crept to your hardened, overstimulated nipples and all the way down where your bodies collided, positioning right on your clit. his left hand stroked your firm nipple and played with one breast, letting wooyoung’s tongue take care of the other whilst his right hand shifted rapidly over your bundle of nerves.
he fell in love with you again as he saw your back arching into a perfect crescent moon. “good girl.” your loud whines and moans only encouraged him to keep going. “so responsive to me.” he exhaled breathlessly. “fuck, are you about to cum, baby?”
“y-yeah, fuck— woo, i-i’m gonna cum, ‘m gonna fucking cum” you yelped as your bounces became sloppier, more desperate and more reckless. wooyoung motivated you by whispering sweet things and heart-melting praises right into your ear.
“cum, baby. cum for me, milk me dry.” and with one last bounce, you sprayed your juices all over him, soaking his pants and white shirt even more.
exasperated grunts and exhales left your husband’s mouth at the sensation of your folds clamping down on him — you definitely understood the assignment of milking him dry. ‘cause your pussy received the hot ropes of cum that his dick spurted out with great pleasure, sucking the life out of his poor, now softened length.
you crumbled down on him, your weakened core landing on top of him with his dick still inside you. your head found home in the crook of his neck as his hand reached to your back, wrapping your waist safely whilst the other provided soothing ministrations to your face. with your last ounce of strength, you pulled the sheets over your naked bodies, an even warming sensation drowning the both of you.
“fuck” was all you could mutter. “how’re we going to get back there, they’re waiting for us.”
wooyoung hummed thoughtfully, the vibrations rumbling through his chest and brushing against your skin. “we could pretend we fell asleep. with that, they shouldn’t suspect a thing.”
“hey that’s actually a great id—“
the door creaked open and your bodies jerked softly. the both of you knew exactly what to do, so your eyes flew shut. wooyoung even started snoring quietly to add a spec of realism to the scene.
the sound of your mothers’ voice echoed through your ears. “she said wooyoung was helping… her” wooyoung’s mom immediately lowered her voice as she took in the scene. an almost soundless aww escaped your mom’s lips.
“well sure he was helping her.” your mother sighed at the wholesome moment she had the luck of appreciating.
“i think he was massaging her. ‘cause when i knocked on the door, i could hear like— muffled sounds, that seemed like moans.” she stated, and you froze in place — well, not like you could move an inch. “at first i was confused, but then she clarified that wooyoung-ah was helping her “like he said he would”” she remarked your words as if she had studied them.
“oh i see.” your mother spoke. “i think we should let them sleep. my poor yn had a long day.”
and with that, the door shut closed with a soft click.
wooyoung giggled under the covers as your face burned from the embarrassment.
“massaging? well, that’s a way to put it.”
“wooyoung, babe, as much as i love you, please shut the fuck up.”
he laughed wholeheartedly, a gut-wrenching sound that never fails to make you smile. “you embarrassed, my love?”
you slapped your open palm against his exposed chest as you whined. “stoppp.”
his small, soft giggle buzzed inside your eardrums before he left on the top of your head a kiss full of fondness and affection. “cutie.”
| masterlist
#© hwallazia#☃︎ | nic’s xmas.#ateez#ateez smut#jung wooyoung#ateez wooyoung#wooyoung smut#jung wooyoung smut#wooyoung x reader#wooyoung scenarios#wooyoung fanfic#ateez x reader#ateez scenarios#ateez fanfic
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passenger princess / ln4
established relationship lando norris x fem!reader
no use of y/n, as always.
in which the weekend takes a twist, and all you want is a baby.
prompt⋯ hi! first of all, i absolutely ADORE your writing. i’ve been reading all of your stuff for the past few days!! second, i was scrolling on pinterest and i rediscovered the lando daddy bracelet pic. that combined with THE dutch gp pic made me be down even worse for him. with that i request a fic with an established reader x lando relationship. that’s set during the weekend of the 2024 dutch gp. where he wears the bracelet over the course of the weekend and it gets you(? or me? idk how to phrase that) really worked up, and after he wins they fuck while he’s still wearing it. and it’s like the most rough feral sex known to mankind. but at the end you want him to come in you and he’s like “oh you wanna make me a daddy”. like yes it is a slight breeding kink but it’s more of the idea of the bracelet and how he definitely knew what he was doing when he wore it (in the fic and irl too tbh). that’s the general idea but feel free to put your own spin on it!! i am incredibly down bad for him and that photo did something to me. ty 🤗🧡
a/n ⋯ yeah tbh i got no excuse for this one chat...like...how could i not resist a breeding kink...i know y'all want it too. but for real--- thank you anon for being patient. i had a lot of fun writing this in between doing work. writing is an escape for me. thank you to all for the continued support, and i'll be continuing to get through asks as time moves along. comment below to be added to my taglist, or comment in general! i love replying to all of them as much as i can.
warnings ⋯ SMUT 18+++!!! minors DNI!!!, language, choking, p in v sex (wrap before you tap!), fingering!(f)receiving, breeding kink, impregnation, teasing, possessiveness, jealousy, creampie, begging, mating press-- allat shit tbh. if i miss a warning, let me know.
wc ⋯ 8.5k (unedited.)
things had begun to be different between you and lando. you couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when the gears shifted, the stars aligned, though you only cared how good it made you feel with him.
but he knew. he knew exactly when.
you’d been dating lando for two years now. it was two years of pure bliss— the exciting lifestyle that you’ve craved, the love and care, the passion that you shared with him was exquisitely yours. he is yours. and you are his.
that morning in the paddock he was speaking to max, chattering about the post collision from hungaroring. they seemed to make up in due time, finding it easier to call one another “brother’s” again, despite the damages done to their cars and the media in an uproar about their impish, punitive behaviors. you didn’t spare any glance towards the comments made about it, knowing that lando had been in a rough shape that weekend.
you played with penelope, p, as they were talking, squatted on the ground with colored pens in your hand. kelly loomed behind, on her phone, thankful enough that you could occupy her for the time being. you had no issue entertaining her. you loved being around children…most of the time.
“this one?” you held out the red pen for p, as she was pointing to with a bashful look. she was shy– especially around you, given your ethereal, wanderlust nature. you carried yourself in such an elegant way that could facilitate a ray of sunlight through the most tepid storms.
she nodded and you handed it to her. she latched her smaller hand around it, coloring in the rb20 from her sketchbook. your hand fell beneath your chin as you watched her carefully color inside the lines, dreading falling out of it. you smiled as she did, the dress you wore crinkling fashionably around your thighs.
p flashed the page at you nervously, awaiting her input. your eyes glowed, sparkles falling onto the page as you scanned it. she really did do a good job.
“beautiful, p!” you commented, your palm splaying over her upper back. “you’re really good at this, you know?”
a shade of red filled her cheeks, warming her skin. you hadn’t meant to embarrass her, nor make her nervous.
“do you want to color one with me?” you asked her, pointing to the pages in the book. she hesitated for a moment, as if she didn’t hear you properly, but ended up nodding with the same excitement that she did when she’d see max on the podium. “you pick. something…pretty.”
the gears were turning in her head as she flipped through the pages, trying to find the perfect one for you and her to work on. you, on the other hand, were focused on how her brows scrunched together as she furiously searched through her booklet. it was cute the way she perceived things. she was a cutie. it made you think about your own future, what you wanted.
what you wanted,
your eyes drifted from the carpeted floors inside the hospitality room, to the shoes that he wore, and up his black jeans to the papaya livery he sported for the day. you lingered on the expanse of his chest, the tan skin peaking through the v-neck of his unbuttoned collar. your mouth watered instinctively, thinking about how lucky you were to have a man like lando love you so deeply.
as you glanced further up towards his chin, the unshaved rigid surface that sparked electricity over your body, you found him already looking down at you. he wasn’t even paying attention to max at this point, already giving you all of his attention and you didn’t even need to ask.
you gave him a smile, covering your lips afterward to stifle your giggle, and turned back to p once she tapped you that she’d found a picture for the two of you to color.
“mate?”
lando was lost in a daze staring at you. gawking at your figure, the dress you decided to wear. it was a denim colored sheath that you’d twin with alexandra with. she’d wear the gia dress in a pomegranate hue, whereas you took the navy.
lando’s hand was cupped against his chin, rubbing over his stubble, keen on watching how you interacted with p.
your relationship had progressed further than he’s ever gotten to before in his life. he was at a point where he knew he didn’t want anyone else, to explore someone else’s body the way he did yours. he knew you, inside and out, and he didn’t think another connection was even fathomable.
you appeared to be so gentle with her, taking the time to listen to what she wanted you to do, how to color, maneuver the pens. there would be no outside the line coloring on her watch, that was for sure.
he found himself smiling bright.
do you want kids?
he knew that he did. he always knew that. but he’d never broach the subject to you directly. your relationship with him was secure, but was it eligible to be taken to the next level? would you be frightened by his sudden urge to create a life with you? a product of him, and the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen?
“yeah? sorry.” lando looked back towards max. but it was too late, and max was looking over his shoulder towards you and p.
when he looked back towards lando, he threw his hands up in defense. max rolled his eyes. “don’t know why you haven’t proposed to her yet. what’re you waiting for?”
lando bristled. he waited a moment to answer, wondering the same fucking thing. what was he waiting on? the perfect time, perhaps. summer break was rapidly approaching, and he certainly had a ring picked out.
the papaya clad driver pulled out his phone and scrolled through his photos, settled on the right one, and handed it to max. the other driver took it, zooming in, not that he needed to.
“when?”
lando shrugged. “summer break. greece, maybe.”
max cheered, slapping his hand over his mouth in shock. “you’re serious, mate?” lando nodded. max pulled him in for a hug, slapping him over the back. he couldn’t be happier for his best friend in this moment, starting to jump up and down. lando settled him down and slid his phone back into his pocket.
“keep it quiet. i want her to be surprised.”
max made a motion of a lock and key. “surprised about what?”
lando felt giddy.
you hadn’t been paying much attention to what lando nor max were chittering about. you’d been so hyper focused on coloring with p, that you were absent minded of the conversation behind you.
p had picked out a cartoon illustration of max and lando smiling towards the viewer. you’d thought it was an adorable choice, and it showed that p was more aware than what she led on to be. she, of course, started coloring in max. with his neutrally blonde hair, redbull cap, she was fast working.
but then she shoved the book towards you, politely anyways, and pointed at lando, who was yet to be colored in.
“my turn?” she nodded her head, handing you the orange marker.
you grinned, carefully coloring in the lines of the drawing before p took a deep breath. “are you and lando married?”
the question had you freeze momentarily, taken back by her question. “no, p, we’re not.”
you continued to color, whilst she continued to question. “why not?”
“because he hasn’t asked me.”
“why don’t you ask him?”
“i’m not sure that’s what he wants.”
p raised a brow. she looked towards lando and max, giggling together like school girls, then back to you and your focused coloring.
she handed you a brown marker for lando’s curls. “i think you should.”
now it was your turn to be inquisitive, “really, now?”
she nodded her head without hesitating. “then you’d be my aunt!” she giggled.
you colored in lando’s curls, carefully, diligently, thinking of how they felt beneath your fingertips. your breath hitched thinking about the thought of him proposing, wondering if he had ever even thought about it. you knew what your answer would be. it wouldn’t even take a beat of your heart to give him in answer, if he chose to ask. if he chose you.
with one final stripe of a black marker, your drawing of lando had been finished. you stood up, and so did p.
“are you going to have babies?”
“p!” you gasped, mouth dropping. “that’s none of your business, young lady.”
she laughed, twirling around. “what? that’s what mama says happens when you love someone.” confident, wasn’t she? “do you love lando?”
“of course i do, p.”
she gasped.
“is there a baby in there right now?!” she seemed concerned, becoming so bold as to touch your stomach. it was a little higher than where your womb sat beneath your skin, but close enough.
you shook your head. “no, honey. i am not having a baby right now.”
she looked disappointed. taking her hand back, she crossed them over her chest.
“penelope, what are you going on about?” kelly finally chimed in, rubbing p’s back with her hand.
“nothing.”
but it wasn’t nothing.
lando appeared behind you, a hand on your lower back. you leaned into him, recognizing his touch, and you got a brief wave of panic wondering if he heard your conversation with p.
“p,” lando said over your shoulder. she looked up. “do you still have your bracelet making kit?”
she nodded again, though you weren’t quite sure what he’d need it for. you guessed you’d find out eventually, because lando uttered, “it’s a secret, sorry baby.”
and he followed p to her small table, pulling out the kit from her backpack. she had taken lando’s hand to guide him, and you watched fondly.
too fondly, you thought, and knew you were in deep shit.
the morning of the dutch grand prix had you biting at the corners of your fingernails with anticipation. the summer break you had spent with lando was more than you could imagine— filled with delicious foods, sunny weather, morning swims, and of course, the sex. with more free time that lando had, he was utterly obsessed with you. he worshiped the ground you walked on, and it made you feel like more than the queen you deserved to be.
in the paddock you stood, shifting on your feet, anxiously fiddling with your purse once your fingernails sufficed. lily joined at your side, ethereal with her effortless beauty, and she nudged you with her elbow. “you look nervous,” she gave a short laugh.
you scoffed but joined in on her antics. “do i?” you certainly did. lily raised her brows to inquire further of your apparent distress.
relenting, you couldn’t resist her. there was no reason to— you were both practically attached at the hip. ever since oscar had been signed to mclaren, the two of you were inseparable. the famous mclaren WAGs.
your relationship with lando had been going on for two years now. sure, you’d had some rocky slopes to climb with the schedule of his career and the development of your own; that’s the thing about relationships though, isn’t it? that no matter what hill you’d have to climb, you’d find one another on the other side. the two of you wanted to make it work, so there was no obsolete universe in which you’d never find each other.
“he needs this, lils.” you practically sighed, finally gaining the courage to look her in the eye. she looked at you with the same softness that a mother would, or a best friend that you could count on.
“you know he’ll do well.” oh, don’t you know it. lando, whilst on vacation, never took a moment’s worth of rest. he wanted this just as much as you did for him, a second career win. it was all that you could think about the moment you stepped off the plane before him in zandvoort. it was going to happen. you had a feeling.
and a good one at that.
qualifying swept by in a flash. the saturday afternoon was a clean sweep for your boyfriend in the front row. you couldn’t be more proud of him. when he was finished with his interviews and taking his leave with his half removed fireguard, you launched at him.
flinging your arms around his neck, he gripped onto your waist and thighs like his life depended on it. it did. your nose found the sweat against the column of his neck, inhaling deeply. you melted into him.
lando felt the same. with his forehead burrowing into the hair on your scalp, he let out a deep breath that he’d been holding since he got out of the car.
“missed my sweet girl,” he breathed, the sweat and perspiration heating the hairs on your head. you sighed softly, relaxing into him as he held you tighter.
you broke away from him, setting yourself on the ground. you stood happily in front of him, rocking on your heels and playing with the hem of the black, sponser-ridden firesuit.
“‘m so fucking proud, lan. pole? pole on the first race back?” you were in shellshock, overjoyed disbelief.
he raised a hand to cup your face before he’d be whisked away. the bracelet on his wrist caught your eye, one that he must’ve put on once he stepped out of the car. the friendship letter bracelet read loudly to you, it letters all capitalized.
‘daddy’
you gripped his hand, observing the ornament. you raised a brow. is this the bracelet he had made with p?
lando let out a short laugh. “like it?”
you flushed, staring down at the small, dainty thing. it had you shifting on your feet, ideas and fantasies running wild through your pillage of a mind. “maybe.” you hummed, stroking the beads with your index finger.
“wore it for you.”
the statement had you standing up straight. “really now?” lando nodded.
and before he was whisked away, he whispered into your ear, “don’t get any ideas, baby. i know that look.”
you were rendered speechless, and by the time you managed to open your mouth, he had already left through the door.
the following day was race day. you were dressed flawlessly, curating perfection with your outfits to match the same prestige that lando had with his fans. also, you enjoyed feeling pretty. looking pretty, as lando would often say to you. he didn’t forget this morning either, arriving to the paddock with you in tow, hand wrapped tightly with yours.
as he took selfie after selfie, signed hat after hat, he didn’t forget to remind you, “you look beautiful,” that always brought a smile to your face, a blush fanning your cheeks.
when the two of you made it inside of mclaren’s hospitality, you were greeted by both lily and oscar. you gave her a warming hug, and she returned it with the same affirmation. when you separated, she danced on her tip-toes. lando and oscar side stepped toward the tea and coffee station, chatting amongst themselves.
“wow!” you were confused, raising a brow. “front row for him, hmm? told you, had nothing to worry about.”
you rolled your eyes, still holding anxieties for the race. you were always concerned going into a weekend. no matter how many grand prix’s you’ve attended, seen lando come out safe and sound, you still picked at the skin of your fingertips. anxious habits die hard.
lando’s managers came in alongside oscar’s beckoning both mclaren drivers to follow them to get ready for the race. lando found you instantly, his hands finding the handles on your hips, squeezing inward. you tensed at the action, wondering what had him on such edge.
you spun, hands running from his chest up to his neck, his cheeks. you cupped his face in your hands, sheepishly smiling.
“you’ll win this for me?”
he scoffed, “always.”
you smiled harder—if that was possible— and connected your lips with his. he returned your kiss, diving deep into your mouth. he held you close by your lower back, as if this was the last time that he’d ever kiss you. he sought to deepen your kiss by the clacking of your teeth, his tongue incessantly searching the inside of your mouth.
you separated yourself, still holding onto his cheeks. lando dipped his forehead against yours, seeking another kiss, but you pulled away. “go. they’re waiting for you.”
“don’t care.”
you flushed, allowing him one last peck before you patted his cheek. “seriously. go.”
he chuckled to himself, kissing the top of your head, uttering a soft “i love you,” before being swept away.
“i love you too.” you mouthed, returning your attention back to lily. she was in awe of how you and lando behaved, carving such a rugged, playful boy into a man of posture and mannerisms that were only reflected by your good nature.
“what?”
“nothing…” she looked away.
“lily.”
“you’ve got that man on a leash,” she broke into a fit of giggles. you looked back to where they were walking out. lando had been looking for you, then at you. he gave a wave, you returned it, then looked back at lily.
“i prefer the term ‘free-roaming.’”
the race was coming to an end with a single lap left. lando led the race with a twenty-two second lead, and your hands were clasped tightly together with your headset on. you listened carefully to his radio messages, sassy and revving, and had your eyes locked onto the screen in front of you. with lily by your side, the two of you were anxiously awaiting the end.
your face suddenly appeared on screen, displaying your glistening eyes, perfectly done makeup and hair. a chic smile grew on your cheeks. you turned towards the camera man and allotted a small wave. your name appeared under the screen, lando norris’ partner.
god…
was there anything more prideful than that?
surely there was, but it didn’t matter to you. you were there to support your boyfriend, lando, your lando, and it was more than enough to see that you were recognized as that.
the checkered flag appeared and lando was on the headline for crossing. you had to clutch your heart, hoping to grip it from the inside out to slow its beating, and it didn’t cease when his mcl38 zipped past the flag.
there was an eruption of cheers throughout the garage and you were swarmed with love by the fellow mechanics and lily, too, who was happy for you to witness such a grand victory. a more than well earned victory.
a second one in the books for him. you couldn’t have been happier.
the podium gathering didn’t take long, and you managed to be at the front of the barricade, shoved forward by the team. you stood there, graceful and beautiful as he always saw you, and you were the loudest to clap and cheer as he walked out from the cool down room.
“your winner, lando norris…!” and you couldn’t help the tears that fell down your cheeks, the camera picking up your emotional feedback on the big screen. his eyes caught to it from the bannister, stepping up onto the tallest podium, and found you right at the front. his heart melted, dripped a red hot flame that burned for you. to see you there for him, emotional above all, solidified his feelings. what he wanted in his future.
you. you above anything else. you above racing, his career, his everything. he had nothing if you weren’t by his side.
he took off his pirelli hat and let the national anthem play. the camera panned away from you then to zak brown. you swayed gently to the anthem, lost in your own world of loving him. you saw him through clear glasses, though he was always your rose. there was nothing more that you wanted in the future than to be with him. you and lando.
after his attributed champagne pop, the crowd dissipated from the pit lane and you engaged in conversations with different women, friends, and coworkers of mclaren. you were jovial with your presence, engaged as much as you could be, though your thoughts kept tracing back to him. lando, lando, lando.
you ended your evening in conversations with the ferrari women— alexandra, rebecca, and one of charles’ friends, marta. you’re a recent acquaintance, meeting her only just a few moments ago. she was noticeably pregnant, and you wondered if that was just the recurring theme of the day.
“how far along are you?” rebecca chimed in.
“about twenty weeks, i think.” she smiled, holding her bump and leaning back into one of her heels to get a more comfortable angle.
“half way there! are you excited?” you asked her, sipping your sparkling water.
“of course,” she grimaced, though there was joy behind her eyes. “it can be hard, but it’s worth it. always worth it to see my husband with my daughter, and now it’ll be brand new with this babe.”
you gave her a heart-warming smile.
“they kick every so often—” she grimaced again, reeling her face into a tight knot. “like right now. do you want to feel?” she was looking at you. it took you a second to understand that she was referring to you, but you jumped at the opportunity.
“are you sure…?”
marta nodded. “put your hand here,” she placed your hand on her right side. you waited a moment before there was a small lurch beneath your palm. you looked up at her in pure disbelief, marveled by such a feeling. you wondered what it’d feel like to feel your own baby kick.
“so…” alexandra leered mischievously, “do you plan on having children? with lando?”
is everyone asking that today?
you stood up straight, embarrassed by the question, and brushed a piece of your hair behind your ear. “for sure. there’s no one else i want. whenever the time is right.”
“he’d be such a good dad.” alexandra added, and you couldn’t agree more.
“you should’ve seen him earlier with penelope—” the girls were reeling at your story. “making bracelets with her. almost tripped over my own dress,” you covered your mouth to laugh, attempting to keep your voice down.
“someone has baby fever.” marta commented.
“ugh,” rebecca groaned. “you two are picturesque. alex and i were just talking about it.”
“oh?” you wished to know more by their insinuation. it wasn’t often that you listened to anything about you or lando’s relationship. half of the time it was negative comments from fans across social media, and you didn’t want the other half to get to your head. you knew you were lucky as is, the least you could do was stay humble.
“ohhhh most definitely.” alexandra nodded. “you’ve been together for what— ever? we’re waiting for an engagement post.”
you were floored. it has been a good amount of time. “so am i,” it came as a laugh. you wondered if lando thought about it. if the thought ever crossed his mind— the possibility of you becoming his wife.
it did.
he was watching you. he’d been done with his interviews for a good ten minutes now, but he was gripped by the scene unfolding before him. he had distracted himself by glancing at his phone, pretending to be scrolling through notifications. but he was staring. hard.
your hand was so tender-loving as it grazed marta’s baby bump. you looked up at her with a graceful smile, asking her important questions about her pregnancy. why were you so interested?
fuck, he hoped the answer he wanted was what you were thinking.
you, pregnant in your floral dresses, pleated gowns, traipsing around the halls of your joint home. barefoot, glowing, effervescent. he could see it now. the vision coming to life, coming to fruition from just a mere fantasy. he felt his dick twitch in his pants, his groin running hot.
he overheard the conversation, too.
“do you plan on having children? with lando?”
for sure. there’s no one else i’d want.
fuuuuck. lando had to turn around, attempting to calm himself down. his entire body was aflame, an eternal gloss of bliss for wanting you. needing you. he needed to feel you. your touch. your skin beneath him, the way you curl effortlessly against the shape of his body.
yeah, he’s fucked.
after a few calming deep breaths, he was at least presentable. with his calmed down cock, he immediately made a beeline in your direction. he wanted—no, needed to get his hands around you as soon as possible. it was a world-ending feeling that suffocated him, gripped him by the throat.
you heard him approach before you saw him. lando’s hands were warm around your hips as he pulled you close. you felt the outline of his cock in his pants as he jut his hips forward. you turned your head over your shoulder, glancing up at him.
his nose found a home in the curve of your neck. you giggled when you felt his stubble tickle your skin, a hand coming instinctively to hold the side of his face tight against your skin. he breathed soundly against you, finding eternal peace of mind plastered against your body.
“it was nice seeing you alex, rebecca.” you began to bid your farewells. “marta, it was a pleasure to meet you.” marta leaned in for a hug, which pulled you away from the warmth of lando’s body. you felt like a snail ripped from its shell— hollow, cold.
“the same for you,” pregnancy looked good on her. though, you can’t recall the last time you’ve seen her without a baby blooming inside her. “if you ever need advice…alex has my number.”
you blushed, feeling lando’s hand around your lower belly tense. “thank you. i’ll be in touch.” you glance towards rebecca and alexandra, following lando’s pace back to the car.
lando’s eyes were hot as they drilled holes into the side of your head. you could feel it, though you weren’t even looking at him. “i can feel your urge to talk, lan.”
he laughed, holding your hand tight in his. “no. no, it’s nothing.”
you stopped dead in your tracks, pulling your hand from his, crossing your arms over your chest.
“okay, okay,” he apologized, taking your hand back into his own, bringing it to his lips to kiss. his lips were warm and wet against your skin. your breath hitched.
“well, go on, then.”
“this is the congratulations i get? damn, baby, you’re rugged.”
you shoved his face away, beginning to walk back to the car once more. “you know i’m proud. don’t be silly, now.”
“i know, i know,” there was a brief silence. “you can show me in other ways.”
“lando!” you gasped, and he broke into a fit of laughter. “dirty bastard.” you mumbled.
“what was that, baby?”
“nothing. nothing. just like what you wanted to tell me, i guess.” two can play at this game. you heard him scoff, but ultimately relent.
“alright, alright. i just…” he became shy with the tone of his voice. you could recognize it instantly. “heard your conversation with the girls, is all.”
you attempted your best effort to still your facial expressions from annoyance, shock, embarrassment, and all of the fucking above.
“you heard…all of it?”
“the gist.”
you tried to cover your face to shield yourself from the world. god, that was your fucking nightmare. you hadn’t ever even touched upon a subject like that with him before. and now he had heard it from you talking to your girlfriends? oh, you just felt like the worst girlfriend in the world right now.
“fuck. i didn’t mean to—”
“no, baby,” he opened the car door for you to slip into the passenger seat. you stepped in, gripping his forearm to sit down.
when he climbed in himself and turned over the engine, you shifted to face him. before you could even open your mouth to speak, he cut you off.
“i want kids, too, you know. with you.”
“oh.” a weight lifted from your shoulders in that moment, and then you felt utterly stupid for thinking that he would’ve reacted badly. this is your lando you’re talking to. a man you can share anything with. “you do?”
he looked flabbergasted. “you’re joking, right?”
you shot your hands up in defense. “i don’t know! children aren’t exactly…temporary. i just— i didn’t know if you thought of me—”
“you’re permanent, love.” his hand wrapped around your thigh as he pulled out of the driver’s lot, whipping past the fans that were keen on snapping a picture of him.
though you’ve known that, deep down, it still hit you like the first time he told you that he loved you. a jaw-dropping epiphany that had been right in front of you the whole time. you’d been short-sighted, enjoying every moment that you had with him, and had become unknowing about the future you’ve been perpetuating with him.
you covered his hand with your own, playing with the bracelets around his wrist. the charm bracelet ‘daddy’ dangled between your fingers, rolling the beads over and over again.
“you’d make a good daddy, wouldn’t you?” you said the words under your breath, but even he could hear them like you’d shouted them in his face. he tightened his grip around your thigh.
“don’t say things like that,” he shook his head, eyes locked on the road ahead.
the air became heavy between you two. when wasn’t it? not only did passion run through your veins, but heinous desire breathed life to your souls.
“why?” you stroked the top of his hand with your nails. “you heard what i said to the girls.” his head lolled against the back rest. “what’s different now?”
you felt the car accelerate. it vibrated the cushion you were nestled atop of, sending shockwaves through your cunt.
“driving me fucking nuts, darling.”
you knew you were. it was the secret to your relationship— the two of you understanding what made you tick. seethe with lust until there was no other option for you to climb him like a tree.
it didn’t take long before he reached the hotel, pulling up to the front. you were getting your things to get up, but he was lost on his phone, pretending to be busy. “coming?” you asked.
“pfft—” you could see him roll his eyes through the rearview mirror. “i wish. give me a second.” you couldn’t help but huff to yourself under your breath, stepping out of the car with your heels clinking to the ground.
with your purse over your shoulder you stepped up onto the curb, but was distracted by a small voice echoing over your shoulder.
down the sidewalk was a mother and a stroller. you smirked lowly, taking only the few steps it’d take to reach the mother and child.
“oh my gosh,” you squealed. the mother was taken back, but by your demeanor and eyes on her baby, she returned a smile. by her pink bonnet and bunny swath, you knew she was the cutest thing you’d ever laid eyes on. “she is just the cutest thing!”
“thank you,” the woman said.
“she looks just like her mama,” you heard lando’s car door open, most definitely within earshot. “don’t you, sweet thing? yes you do!” you cooed at the baby, who erupted in a fit of louder giggles and mumbles.
the mother was flushed, but happy. “you’re too kind. you’re good with children? do you have any of your own?”
jackpot..!!
you clutched your purse as you stood up straight. you played into your theatrics, “oh gosh, i wish! my husband and i have been trying for ages, but he’s just so busy with work…”
the woman tsked with disappointment for you. “you’d make a beautiful mother,”
“you think so?”
she nodded her affirmation.
“that’s so sweet of you.” you were really milking this scene, especially that you knew lando was listening.
“is that your husband there?” she pointed to over your shoulder. and there he was, your husband, watching the two of you from behind the ajar car door.
“mmm, yes, it is.” you offered a cordial wave to him. he stuck two fingers up for a lazy wave, waiting for you to return to him. “i should go. it was a pleasure, ma’am. your baby is adorable.”
she nodded a thanks, and you took your sweet time walking back to the car. you could hear lando tapping the windshield incessantly. before his head dipped down back into the car he called, “get back in.”
you…admit, you were confused. brows furrowed, you opened the passenger side door and bent down, “why—?”
“get in the car,” your name was a rumble in his chest. you still didn’t know what he was doing nor going, and your stubborn self wouldn’t settle for a verbal answer.
you took too long for him. gripping your arm, he pulled you into the passenger seat, and you landed on your ass with a ‘thump’.
he fired up the engine again and pulled out of the traffic circle of the hotel. he radiated with heat— you could feel it from where you sat. “where are we going?”
he didn’t answer you.
you crossed your arms and legs, looking out the window. the area was unknown to you, but lando always seemed like he knew where he was going.
it took only a minute for him to pull into an empty level of a parking garage, dimly lit with only one overhead light at the entrance of the ramp. he put the car in park.
“what are we—”
you couldn’t finish your sentence until you were on his lap, hands gripping your waist so tightly that you had to gasp for air.
“husband?”
oh
oh…!
well, this was a change you welcomed with open arms.
he lowered the seat back until you were straddled atop of him, fingers aimlessly toiling with the zipper of his jeans.
“don’t know what you’re—”
he snapped upward, gripping your chin between his forefinger and thumb. “baby,” he breathed, and you shivered. “what do you want?”
your hips naturally moved back and forth against his own, dress hiked well above your stomach. his hand snaked between your legs, feeling the wet patch in your underwear. he hummed when you didn’t reply, flicking his finger upward to graze your clit.
you mewled.
“what was that?”
your hand twisted around the hem of his shirt. you were already breathless, clenching around nothing except the sound of his words.
“tell me,” he muttered, staring up at your disheveled state. he made quick work of sliding your panties to the side, massaging the folds of your cunt between his fingers. you continued your writhing against him.
“want you,” was what you managed to breathe out, hips rutting against his palm. he tsked, but allowed you this moment. a moment for him to bask in the way that you move your hips, writhe against his clothed cock that was egregiously hardening by the second and each amount of pressure you applied.
he slid his fingers in and out of you with ultra maneuvering, in and out, all around. he was a mastermind when it came to feeling you up, exploring you both on the outside, and the in. you were in heaven, ultimately, when he curled his fingers so deeply upon thrusting them. your cunt tightened so viciously around him that he groaned, his head falling back and his hardened cock thrusting upward. to no avail, his dick was strained against the cloth of his pants.
“fuck,” he cussed, curling his fingers over and over again. your body began to shiver, and only began to fall from grace when his thumb traced against your clit. stimulation grew hotter and hotter, until you let out a piercing moan from the depths of your throat. he angled his fingers differently, making you squirm.
“lando!” you breathed, feeling your climax creeping up on you faster than you could even blink. your core tightened, a coil of veracious flames churning around each other manifesting a slew of energy that released sparks from your nerves. your folds were inflamed, puffy, beating hot that you couldn’t think straight. lando was touching you with his other hand anywhere that he could reach. he palmed your breasts through your dress, twisted a nipple to earn a delicious squeal.
“come on, sweet thing,” he encouraged you with that stupid lopsided smile of his, you were looking down on him, sweat beading at his forehead, pupils blown dark and wide. his hand that was groping your breast moved upward, threading around the column of your throat. “show daddy what you’re made of.”
his hand tightened, and you felt the coil snap. he continued to pump his fingers in and out, maneuvering so perfectly, hitting that exact spot with precision.
he knew you came when your eyes rolled back into your head, legs quivering around his waist. god, you’re a sexy thing.
his hand loosened from around your neck, dropping to your chest, fiddling with the van cleef necklace he had gifted you. it reeked of possession, marking you as his with the “l.n.” initials engraved on the back of the golden surface.
the moment of bliss passed before he was pulling the zipped down from your dress and throwing it from over your head. your panties were next, though the fabric was thin as is. there you were, bare and glistening, before your so-called ‘husband’ as you had worded it. he wouldn’t forget it, a spark igniting within him that was lit by the phrase leaving your tongue. he didn’t think that it would affect him so much—
but it did.
he made quick work of his own pants, shoving them down to his knees beneath you, breathless and needy.
you gripped the hem of his shirt. he lifted his arms to hasten the process, and the shirt went to the back seat. with his skin exposed, you couldn’t help but run your hands along his tan, toned chest. it made you dripping wet, though he was barely touching you now.
with your skin atop of his, carnage was sure to ensue. he took a drag of his fingers against your wet cunt and brought it to his lips. he sucked on them, releasing with a ‘pop.’ your mouth hung open in anticipation for what he was going to do next. he always kept you on your toes.
but this…this is not what you expected.
he took a ring from his index finger, plated in silver, and slid it onto your ring finger on your left hand. the wedding finger.
it stuck to your sweaty palm, sure enough to not slip off.
“let’s make it official then, pretty girl.”
you sat upon him astonished, looking down at the adornment that he had given to you. it dazzled on your finger.
“if you’re my wife, what does that make me?”
the words trembled from your lips, thighs tightening around his own. you could feel his dick sprung to life against your backside. “my husband.”
“good, baby, you learn fast.”
you gulped, finally taking a look at him from his propped upright position. he was downright smitten with you, guzzling everything about you inside of him. you were his, so much fucking so, that he was going to ruin you. and he didn’t even feel bad for wanting it.
“my husband…” you repeated, lowering your face down to meet his own. he smelled so good—a mix of sweat and his cologne.
his hand tangled into your hair, creating a makeshift ponytail to meet your eye level.
“makes me fucking crazy when y’say it…”
you knew that was the truth. you’d known the minute you sat down in the car. his demeanor had changed, shifted to something darker that you didn’t quite understand. it was insane enough as is that you’d discovered so many things about him within a short period of time.
“husband, daddy…what’s the difference?” you cooed, kissing up and down his neck. he groaned, landing a smack on your ass that had you giggling.
“‘ll just make you a mommy if you keep throwin’ that word ‘round.”
you grinned ear to ear. against his cheek, you took a deep breath in, before letting go.
“daddy.”
if you’ve ever made a good decision in your life, this has to be the best. a switch flipped. gears started to turn in his head. the spark plug burst into flames.
you were his undoer,
the key to his shackled restraint,
the sun to his universe.
it was always you. you’d been right in front of him for the past two years. two years to get to this point. two years for the woman he loved most in this world to be sucking his neck whispering ‘daddy’ into his ear.
lando sat upright in the seat. with a hand at the back of your head, he forced eye contact with you. this was different. this look. you could feel it in your heart, your folds, as they began to beat synchronously. life with him was euphoria, and sex had been the serendipitous release for both of you.
but seeking the future together?
heaven incarnate.
despite being locked inside such a tight space, lando managed to swap your position with a suave move. you were on your back, shocked by his carnal rampage, as he hooked your legs upward. your toes scathed the ceiling of the car, pressed deep into the metal chassis.
“kiss me,” you demanded with the breath that you could take. he didn’t waste a second, leaning down to your lips and capturing you with the most breathtaking press that he could muster. his tongue and your own fought for dominance over one another; you lost, quickly, unable to match his revered pace.
he wanted to eat you from top to bottom. devour your insides, carry you with him every day of his life. you would be his, one way or another, and he didn’t care how it was.
lucky enough, you were more than willing to be his bride, his lover, his person.
because he was yours.
then he was inside of you. braving the treachery of your tight walls, he hissed when the tip of his cock slipped through your folds. you’d been dripping on the leather seat.
“fuck, baby…” his head fell to the crevice of your neck and collarbone.
“oh my goddd…” the moan you both let out was terribly lewd, grotesque, even, with how he didn’t start a pace. you both savored this sweet moment of lust, passion, and a figurative toast to a lifelong commitment to fucking one another.
with each thrust he took, he aimed to make a statement. deeper and deeper he penetrated you, his cock crafted of divine measure with how he quartered your g-spot.
you could never stay still beneath him. it had him on edge the way you squirmed. dare say it was one of the most favorite things about you, though the list would be never-ending. you shiver from pleasure, leaning into him as your cunt squelches beneath you.
echoes of moans bounce off the interior of the car, whilst a smile of greed and possession conceives on his own cheeks. the angle he has you at is deeper than any that you’ve had before— it left no room for noncommittal nature, no room for you to complain about wanting him closer, more, more, more.
“y’feel me here?” his hand rest on your lower belly, your womb, as he applied pressure. you do feel him there. the indent of his cock is poignant, bulging out from the skin.
“mhm…!” you whine, trying to keep your mouth shut from the onslaught of moans pouring out.
his attention turned to your tits as he swallowed a nipple whole with his tongue, sucking feverishly at the sensitive bud. it had you weak, dribbling to puddy.
he could only think about how you’d look pregnant. swollen tits, round belly, glowing with his child.
“this what you wanted?” he grunted, his pace quickening. you were too dumb to speak, a droplet of drool leaking from your mouth. “hm? fuck you—fuck, fill you up?”
your back arched at the sentence, not knowing that his words could have such an arousing effect on you. this arousal was different. the way you clench around him was different. your actions spoke a lot louder than your words.
“yeah? i can feel you, darling.” sounds of skin slapping and your hoarse voice could only be heard. he fucked you so good, treated you even better. fuck it, you’d rather be pregnant than anything else.
“please, please…” you didn’t know what you were pleading for, in truth— he was already fucking you like he’d been in a rut.
“yeah? that what you want? want a baby?”
your head nodded furiously up and down, tears of pleasure streaming down your cheeks. lando bent down to kiss them away, followed by a capturing of your lips. he swallowed your breaths, your moans. he trailed kisses down the column of your throat; your collarbones, breasts, nipples, nothing went untouched by his mouth.
“god…these…” he muttered against your tits, voice sending shockwaves through your body. “imagine how big they’d be.” he managed to chuckle to himself. “swollen and beautiful,” he kissed the top of your abdomen.
“lando…”
his head shot up from his daze.
“the time is right. please, please—” your words seemed to hit him like a truck. the foreplay had turned reality, and he was more than ready to lurch into fate.
“what, pretty girl?”
your face flushed, biting your lip. “give me a baby, need it—lan, need it so bad.” your hand found the back of his neck, tugging on the strands of his hair.
he tsked, his pace evening out to a level throttle. your lips formed a sweet pout, and he stroked your chin with his index finger. “give you?” he mocked. “oh, don’t think that’s how we ask, do we?”
“lan…please, please, can i have your baby? need it so bad lando, need it…” you swallowed your breath. “daddy…wanna make you a daddy…please.”
it was more than enough for him. “atta girl.” he grunted, deepening his lackluster thrusts into thrilling rides on his cock. “y’learn fast…kids ‘r gonna be so smart.”
“yes, yes! so good, lan.” you heaved, the heat in your cunt finding a boiling point, and he felt it by how tight you became around him.
“go on, baby, take it. be a good girl and take it all.” you’d do anything to hear your lando call you a good girl. it had been more than enough to send you over the edge into a spiraling orgasm that had slick seeping around his cock. your vision whitened, and you could only see the shadow of your ‘husband’ through the light.
with sloppy thrusts, lando came with ease. he didn’t pull out urgently, letting his cum soak inside of you. he peppered kisses along your ankles, your calves, and let them fall to the seat.
out of breath, your chests rose and fell at a rapid pace. lando’s forehead connected with your own, and through the haze of post-sex, he smiled at you.
you smiled back. the two of you broke into a laugh.
“fuckin’ knew that was gonna happen today.” he commented lazily into your chest. a hand of yours threaded through his brown curls.
“your mastermind plan to babytrap me.”
he raised a brow. “did you plan on leaving?”
you gave him a knowing look. “not in the slightest.”
he became embarrassed and sheepish as he hid his face into your ribs. “no chance of it, now.”
you chuckled, flexing your fingers to see the ring still there. “i want a real proposal, by the way.”
his head shot up. “what? this wasn’t good enough?”
you palmed his face with one hand, and tugged the back of his curled head with the other. “bastard.”
it only took you two ten minutes to get your clothes back on from such a leisurely excursion from the empty parking garage. covered in his spit, sweat, and cum, you didn’t feel….dirty.
when he finally pulled up to the valet and opened the door for you, you stepped out as graciously as possible. though your hair was a tangled mess— you tried your best. lucky enough it was late enough to where minimal paparazzi were gathered. thank god.
you shifted on your feet, shimmying the dress down, but lando came to your rescue. he pulled the dress down where it was crumpled at the back, caught between the hem of your soaked underwear.
“that was a rental, wasn’t it?” you pointed out, looking over your shoulder.
“they should auction it.”
you spun around and laughed in his face, gagged by the ego he has. “you have a big head.”
“need all that room for you.”
“cheesy.”
lando’s eyes lit up— though exhausted from the day and your antics, the sun still rose for him— “almost forgot—” he reached into his pocket whilst you waited patiently.
he pulled out a bracelet.
a friendship bracelet.
“thought it suited you.” he put it around your wrist, and you analyzed it clearly. in white, capitalized letters it read:
“MOMMY”
“you really had this thing planned.” you were impressed.
he shifted on his heels, throwing his hands up as if saying ‘what can i say?’ “p thinks you’re pregnant now.”
you gasped. “lando!”
“i mean…hopefully.” he winked as you fiddled with the jewelry, still not bothering to take off the ring from your finger.
“well…” you brought a finger to your lips, thinking, “we have to be certain, don’t we?”
lando was catching your drift as you walked backwards towards the entrance of the hotel, luring him in with your charisma. “perhaps…”
“so…we need to try again.” he wasn’t going to argue with that. “and again.” or that. “and again, for good measure.”
“you’re gonna kill me, baby.” he whined, chasing you up the steps. you squealed, running forward. inside the elevator you two went, clicking the floor for your room.
after further inspection, lando’s brows furrowed after he glanced over you. “what?”
he covered his mouth to shield his devious smile.
“what, lando?”
he coughed to hide his amusement, but it was a very bad act. “you’re…”
“what?”
“you’re dripping.”
you looked down at your thighs and saw the glistening reflection of his cum seeping out of you. fuck. maybe the first time was the charm, but you hoped it wasn’t.
you really hoped it wasn’t.
tags ; @landoslutmeout@basicallyric@mybluesoul1@toriiez@customsbyjcg-blog@sofs16@strengthandstay@mybluesoul1@f1fantasys@cmleitora @idgasb @amalialeclerc @laneyspaulding19 @staurdvst @oreosareara @sideboobrry11 @mortallyblueninja @fionamiller123 @2pagenumb @marvelfangirl04 @brune77e @allabouthappiness @tellybearryyyy @ringdingdingdingx @tillyt04 @danywonderland @rosebud224 @simpfortoomanymen @nataliambc @forcesensitivesoulmate @sweate-r-weathe-r @norlestappen @madszoca @milkandcookhot @fionamiller123 @16f1lc @jwiltsz @plotpal @inevesgf @theonottsbxtch
#🐚*—my works#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando x reader#lando norris smut#lando norris x you#lando norris fic#lando x y/n#lando x you#lando norris one shot#f1 fics#f1 smut#f1 fluff#f1 driver x you#f1 driver x reader#formula 1 fic#formula 1 fics#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fluff#f1 oneshot#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#formula 1#f1 fic#formula one#lando imagine#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine
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THE HUSBAND
warning: female reader, saer being���.saer, yan!isekai!crown prince
a/n: i was so burnt out so lets see what i come up with ….its short ik and yes im cooking up something w cynthia LET ME COOK 🫡🙄🔥🔥🔥🔥💯💯💯💯
the idea of divorce was swimming in the mist of your mind hours before you regained most of the movement in your body. you knew you had to get out of this situation in a peaceful but quick manner. in your mind, leaving saer should have been easy since he hated edina more than the devil himself. he saw her as a shit stain satan left on earth to torture him for all of his days. so why are tears running down his face…thats odd? from all of the tweets, forums, and blogs saer had close to no emotions for edina. he hated her through and through. in the original story, he would’ve cheered of joy if she simply asked to part ways. so why was he sitting in front of you crying? was the bacon too salty? was he remembering the good ol’ times with his late father? ever since you’ve transmigrated into this story, everything has been so weird. aside from you being close to perfectly fine after being fed poison, saer has became more careful.
in the book, saer was close to a bubbling idiot. every single assassination attempt was stopped by a maid because he was stupid. he always played it as cynthia and amanda favoring edina but that wasnt the full truth. he was just too obvious with everything he was doing. you actually kind of felt back for the dummy, no wonder gracie wants nothing to do with him. regardless of any of that, you actually started to feel a bit bad for him. it was obvious saer didnt know why he was crying or how to stop it by the way his face was balled up in red confusion. maybe it was out of guilt or for the plot, either way you wanted to help him. maybe he wanted to kill you but seeing a grown man cry really did break your heart.
“now, saer..”
gently pushing your hand out to cover his larger ones, you put on a voice of concern. you want to help the poor idiot but you also want to get out of this house alive. maybe playing the sweet docile wife could do you some good, maybe—
“ugh, stupid bitch get off of me.”
slapping your hand off of his, saer attempted to keep a face of pure disgust plastered for you to see. why on earth was he crying, and why on earth are you being so off-putting? at first, your new actions didnt really bother him. were they different? yes, but they weren’t unpleasant. but now...it was as if the poison made you utterly indifferent to his presence, which he told himself he loved, but the lord knows thats a lie. you quietly sitting there, dry-face, with a slight frown and uninterested body language, angered him. saer was crying purely for reactions. he thought that crying would help him close this conversation and make you jump up and beg for his forgiveness, but no. all you did was lift your grimly, beastly fingers to ‘comfort’ him. what a joke of a woman.
“im finished with my breakfast”
the scream of the chair was louder than your own thoughts, kicking you out of your own subconscious. what even was that about? you were TRYING to be the version of edina you thought he would like, second from you killing yourself right there and then. so why was he acting like you were trying to jump his bones? he is such a wicked man….such a sad excuse of a person. its such a shame his attitude is so sour, you were going to try to soften his walls to see if he would lighten up on the poisoning situation. how did he get it? who did he get it from?
“madam,”
lightly placing her hand on your shoulder, cynthia appeared. scaring you out of your thoughts, you straightened your back and put on the best fake smile you could. you knew cynthia didnt really care for you, as demonstrated by the bath she gave you earlier, but you thought that maybe you could melt this ice queen. her soft ginger coils shaped her face in all the right places, giving her olive skin the type of glow women in the real world would kill for. she had green eyes to match alone with it, making it easy to find yourself lost in them. cynthia was a beautiful woman; just how did she become a maid for this jackass?
“his royal highness has ordered for you to be sent to your room.”
#female reader#yandere#yandere x reader#x reader#yandere oc#yandere crown prince#yandere isekai crown prince#yandere anime#yandere male#yandere male x reader#yandere oc x reader
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Creator Spotlight: @themetalhiro
Hi, I’m Metal! I’m a freelance artist from good ol’ New Jersey. My favorite things to work with are a lot of bright colors, exaggerated poses, and candid scenarios. I try to farm sensible chuckles whenever I can, so I’m also big into comics. I love making them about my life, and the media I’m into, and one day I’d like to publish my own series! Thank you to everyone who has gotten me this far!!
Check out Metal's interview below!
Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?
I guess so! It’s funny, I don’t remember a single time in my life that I wasn’t drawing as a hobby… somewhere in middle school (a little late, I know.) I put the pieces together that animated movies were made by artists, and that it wasn’t just for fun, they were paid to do it. The moment I discovered people could be paid to make art, I decided I would do that, too. Now I’m here!
How has your style developed over the years?
I think the best way to answer this would be with an example! Over the last few years, I have made more of an effort to draw more intentionally, which sounds silly. Now, I put more thought into my poses and step out of my comfort zone with shape language and composition. I had a phase where I drew everyone with a huge, perfectly circular head and no nose. That definitely did not lend much variety...
Which 3 famous artists (dead or alive) would you invite to your dinner party?
Ack! I’m so terrible at history! I’d love to give a well-thought-out answer about fine artists of old, but I don't think we’d have much in common… Most artists I admire and who have driven me forward creatively are the people behind comics I’ve read. Andrew Hussie, Bryan Lee O’Malley, Eiichiro Oda... these guys have inspired me greatly and had a heavy influence in developing my art style and sense of humor. I’d love to ask them questions about their processes and upcoming projects. I think it would make for an entertaining night!
Over the years as an artist, what were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?
Outside of pure aesthetics like searing bright colors, layered clothing, and loud noises…. the best and most inspiring moments in my life were those surrounded by friends and loved ones! I cherish the hell out of memories of hanging around in fun locations, trying weird food together, and impromptu midnight walks... so I try my best to capture that atmosphere and my own memories in my work when I can, even if I’m imposing fictional characters on top of them. That’s always the core of it.
What is a medium that you have always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?
I would never permanently refuse a medium, but every time I pick up clay, I’m like a baby using its hands for the first time. Absolutely dreadful. If one day I could make and paint a figurine like the ones I admire in videos, that would be awesome... But for now, I’m not counting on it.
How do you want to evolve as a creator?
I’ve had an absolute blast drawing fanart over the years, and it’s certainly played a massive role in my growth as an artist. But my dream has always been to publish my own stories for y'all to enjoy! I have lots of worlds I want to introduce to you before I’m old and gray. I want to get faster, work harder, and get better at drawing interesting settings so I can get the wheels turning as soon as possible. I also want to stop avoiding the color blue like a coward.
What do you wish you knew when you first started out creating art that you know now?
Pay your taxes quarterly. Tablets will break at the exact moment you need them most, so have a spare. Wear your blue light glasses. You’re going to need to wear a brace on every joint on the right side of your body. It can be lonely sitting at your desk all day. The car on the side of the road that costs $1000 cash….. don’t trust it!!!
Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?
@cranity—They use absolutely beautiful colors and weighty line work. Everything looks so sharp and clean! I wanna put it all up on my wall!
@vewn—Their ability to crank out quality short films and illustrations packed with detail is incredible. The off-kilter perspective they use really sells disorientation and catches your attention like nothing else.
@nelnal—They have absolutely banger character designs again and again, I can’t believe one person’s mind can come up with so many creative ideas!
@jinx88kc—They have a beautiful and recognizable style, and the way they incorporate animation into their illustrations sometimes is SO cool!
Thanks for stopping by, Metal! For more of Metal’s work, follow their Tumblr, @themetalhiro! If you haven't seen their Meet the Artist piece, be sure to check it out here!
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🔍 QNA MASTERLIST (PT.4) 🔎
This masterlist covers general lore and an AU featuring MindReader!Mychael.
📍 For part 1, it's [HERE] for abilities, romantic/yandere traits and his opinion on kids. 📍 For part 2, it's [HERE] for anatomy. 📍 For part 3, it's [HERE] for reactions to different MCs.
Random Mychael lore❕
He has a different name in his own language, but goes by Mychael.
He also chose Mychael as a name himself.
He doesn't have a last name.
When did he start knitting and why?
Where did the nickname 'firefly' come from?
What music would he like?
His favorite smells are old books, honey and gasoline.
He's super ticklish.
How did he carry MC to his home?
His favorite thing to knit are beanies.
He'd love bringing you outdoors.
He's a quiet sleeper.
He sleeps in a fetal position.
He sleeps with both sets of eyes closed.
He'd love cheek kisses.
(Minor) loredump!
His knowledge on marriage.
He's overworked himself when fixing up the cabin.
Would he like stargazing?
You're not the first human he's found unconscious.
He'd be okay wearing a dress.
What's his wardrobe like?
He has a fear/phobia of snowstorms, thunder/lightning, trains/train whistles and water wells.
We can't get sick from him.
Does he have a religion/beliefs?
He would love the Shrek series.
The chickens' name origins (they're all flowers).
He's never considered humans as 'food'.
How did Mychael get his hens?
His favorite candies would be marshmallows and cotton candy.
If he had internet, he'd mostly look up arts-and-crafts and recipes. He'd also love DIY candy kits. He would enjoy nonverbal ASMR.
He prefers being warm.
He kinda celebrates New Years' and loves fireworks. + Why he loves fireworks but are terrified of thunderstorms.
He doesn't need skincare but would enjoy face masks.
His first experience with bees.
He's never played UNO (but would love board and card games).
How does Mychael view the animals/people he meets in the forest?
More Mychael lore❕
He can't handle spicy food as it makes him physically ill.
He's ambidextrous.
His MBTI is INFJ-T.
His favorite desserts are pumpkin pie and cranberry muffins.
His favorite books are self-help skill books and picture books.
His favorite color is yellow. His favorite animal is a jellyfish.
He used to wear cloaks when it was socially acceptable to.
He doesn't believe in ghosts.
How did he learn to speak and pronounce words?
He would love origami.
He'd love to have a cow but think it'd be high maintenance.
He prefers tea over coffee.
His first time seeing the ocean.
He would enjoy K-pop, phonk and electropop music the most.
He would enjoy making fairy bread!
His favorite Ghibli movie would be The Secret World of Arrietty.
Kid!Mychael. + His personality.
Mychael playing Stardew Valley.
Mychael trying a laptop at the library for the first time.
Mychael's perspective in Ending 2 and Ending 3.
Mychael would lose against Atom (Astronought) and Alma (Lift Your Spirits).
Mychael wearing (terribly-shaped) glasses.
About MR!Mychael ❕
MR!Mychael origins and discussion.
MR!Mychael with MC thinking nice thoughts about him.
MR!Mychael wouldn't rescue MC in Day 1.
MR!Mychael analysis and the type of MC he'd fall for.
How MR!Mychael's power works.
How MC would meet MR!Mychael.
MR!Mychael would react the same regardless of MC's psyche.
MR!Mychael with an overthinking MC.
MR!Mychael can't see dreams.
MR!Mychael with an MC with an earworm.
MR!Mychael's personality + when comfortable with MC.
#mushroom oasis vn#my favorite category by far#gonna be taking a break from the blog for a bittt#pls read FAQ before sending a question!#i love u all mwah mwah /p
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