#note none of these problems are specific to the us

[orcinus-veterinarius]

In the past month, I’ve seen:

A “community cat” with a fractured jaw, respiratory distress, and massive hemorrhaging after being hit by a car

A kitten with one fractured leg, one severely lacerated, and another degloved (skin removed) with torn ligaments after being found in the street

A young cat unresponsive with an uncontrollably high fever due to a tick-borne disease

A beautiful, well-loved kitten who stopped breathing due to a suspected brain bleed and was unable to be revived while preparing for surgery to repair a shattered pelvis after being hit by a car

Again, all these happened in the past month. And these are just the really bad ones I can think of off the top of my head.

All these cats, except one, are now dead.

But yeah, free-roaming is good for cats. They know how to take care of themselves.

[pedgito]

𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 | Harry Castillo x reader

↝ masterlist | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi

summary | Five years of being his assistant and five years of failed attempts at finding love with your help, but maybe the obvious answer has been there the entire time. Alternatively, you fucked your boss? Uh-oh.

author's note | harry...randy...who knows. i'll change it if needed but given the name tag, this is what i'm sticking with for now. skip the lecture about not writing until the movie is out, this isn't hurting anyone so don't bother me about it, xo. the horny demons always win. i listened to this song i repeat while i wrote, felt fitting.

content warning | 18+ MDNI, power imbalance (boss/assistant), work wife/work husband type beat, mentions of failed dating, being superficial, mentions of sugar daddy things, expensive gifts, reader is a godly assistant with a will stronger than mine, he smokes, they drink, sex while inebriated, he's down so bad, also oral!, tense morning after, open-ended

word count — 4.5k

You knew him better than anyone.

From his breakfast order down to his specific choice of underwear, like you weren’t making the weekly purchases and filling up his rarely used fridge in the apartment that was way out your price range, arranging his schedule down to the minute, booking his flights, packing his bag.

Really, Harry should just marry you.

…it was more of a joke, but you’ve teased him about it once or twice.

He called you his work wife anyways, but in reality, you were just his assistant.

He did trust you with his life, though.

More importantly, his love life.

“Kim flaked,” he tells you over coffee, perched at his kitchen island as you typed away on your laptop, looking up briefly with eyes that begged for him to explain, he does and makes a show about, mimicking a more feminine voice as he relays the message she gave him, “same song and dance—you’re great and fun but I can’t do anything serious right now,”

“Were you nice?” you ask curiously.

Harry rolls his eyes at that, like it was a stupid question to ask. But, eventually he nods.

“Did you ask questions?” you continue, fingers folding over the screen of your laptop to close it.

“Plenty, she works in finance, loves the color blue, wants to travel,” he could go on and on, throwing his hands up in defeat before they slump to his side, “maybe I should try out a real matchmaker—not that you’re bad at it—”

“You think I’m bad at it,” you smile knowingly, “don’t you?”

“No,” you’re unconvinced, “besides—you’re my assistant, I never meant for that type of responsibility to fall on you, you know?”

“I’m doing both of us a favor,” you remind him, “I think…it just takes time.”

And fortunately, all you had was time.

It felt pointless for Harry to spend a chunk of cash to have someone pair him up with the supposed love of his life, though you knew that money wasn’t a problem, you felt a weird responsibility to protect him, unsure how quickly someone would take advantage of his kindness.

“There’s a gala,” you tell him offhandedly, “next week. I already cleared your schedule for it. I think…maybe you should just peruse this time.”

“Peruse?” he chuckles, eyes creasing in amusement, his crow’s feet deepening with the emotion, “You’re a control freak, you sure about that?”

“That’s just mean,” you retort, “you’re paying me anyways—if you didn’t like it you’d fire me.”

He knew you were right, sipping quietly at his coffee in response.

He was frustrating, predictable, and painfully superficial. 

Every date was an exercise in appearances—perfectly tailored suits, dinner at the most exclusive places, charm turned up to eleven. And yet, none of it ever stuck. He was overcompensating and you weren’t sure why.

He was a good guy, down to his core, and in the five years you had worked with him there was never a moment you thought he didn’t deserve love, he was perfect. Too perfect.

That was the problem.

“You know, you’re like prime age to be a sugar daddy,” you tease him, knowing how he felt about the topic, “there’s plenty of apps that I can—”

“You’re relentless,” he grumbles, “if you ever did that, I’m firing you on the spot.”

“You wouldn’t,” it was a gentle challenge, smirk flashing across your face as he returned it with fondness, “without me you would crash and burn, Mr. Castillo.”

And he knows it.

–

The gala is a bust.

So, as a bandaid to his wounded ego, you order takeout and keep him company in his big, lavish apartment—it wasn’t the first time, it wouldn’t be the last.

You knew what the issue was, but there was a sinking feeling in your stomach that told you he wouldn’t receive the information well.

It was after every failed date, every expensive dinner.

They saw him at the surface, the charming man with an easy, warm smile.

You saw the man who kicked his shoes off and stripped himself of his suit jacket the second he walked through the door, who couldn’t resist a late-night binge of his newest streaming obsession, someone who insisted on stirring his coffee counterclockwise because it made it taste better, a man would text you pictures of squirrels in the park that he would feed on his way home.

It wasn’t that you were pining over him. You just knew him better than anyone.

“Why are you so dead set on marriage?” you ask him over dinner, turned toward him on the couch as he reaches for the remote to pause the show on screen.

He’s had this conversation before, but he’s never asked you any questions on the matter.

“What’s your opinion on it?” he’s avoiding, clearly, but you’ll bite.

“I don’t date, I’m not interested, signing a piece of paper isn’t going to signify my feelings toward someone if it came down to that,” you admit, “I’m not cynical, marriage is fine, but this stuff takes time,”

“Well, I’m not getting any younger,” Harry gripes, arms reaching over the back of the couch as he mirrors your position.

“Oh, please,” you scoff, “you’re forty-nine.”

“Almost fifty,” he corrects, “I’m ancient.”

“O-kay,” you sigh, “do you want honesty?”

“I’d hope you were being honest with me all the time.”

“No,” you laugh softly, “like…brutal fucking honesty?”

He’s silent, but attentive. 

“You keep choosing women who treat you like they’re next getaway vacation and you fall for it every time,” his forehead creases at the words, looking hurt by your words, “I see your bank payments every month, the activity—”

“It’s not like money is an issue,” he defends, causing you to sigh dramatically and fall back against the arm of the couch in faux distress.

“This is impossible,” you groan, staring up at the ceiling before you feel his hand circle around your wrist, tugging gently,

“Okay, I’m listening,” Harry says softly, pulling you upright, “I’m sorry—I am.”

“You want it to work so bad,” you tell him, “I see it—every time you approach someone you put on that smile and it works, but you’re giving so much and yeah, maybe some of them like that, but I’m sure a few would just enjoy a nice dinner here, or something simple. I think you forget to realize that someone can just be interested in you, for you, not for what you are or have,”

It’s profound, the way his face softens at your words, his touch still lingering around your wrist.

You’ve never even considered or entertained the idea that you might find Harry attractive or even attainable—for one, you had signed a contract that agreed to a professional work relationship, as a benefit for both of you, not that he ever had any intention to begin with.

You’ve been with him for so long, it feels, a fresh and young mind to help keep him active and busy, constantly refreshing ideas and helping him not feel like he was stuck, and you were damn good at taking care of him when he’s often tended to neglect himself.

The only thing you know is that he’s never looked at you like that.

Like you could see straight through him, all his flaws on display.

But, that was because you knew all of them.

You knew everything about him, even the worse bits.

His bad habits, his self-inflicting ones, everything that he refused to bring to the surface.

Harry’s fingers still lingered around your wrist, the weight of your words sinking in. 

But then, just like he always did, he broke the tension with a huff of laughter and frowns as he brushed you off.

“You just think I’m a sucker, don’t you?”

You shook your head with a faint smile, returning your arm to your lap.

“No—I think you like to see the good in people. So much good that you’re willing to ignore red flags.”

“Jeez,” he chuckled, clutching his stomach like you had physically wounded him, “that hurt.”

You shrugged and reached for the remote to resume the picture on screen, “You’ll survive.”

–

It was your day off—Sunday, the one day.

“Have you seen my cufflinks laying around?” he asked over the video call, “Shit—my tie, too. I can’t find it anywhere. I thought you said you laid it out for me.”

“No, I said I had it hung up and for you to lay it out before you showered,” you correct him, laying tiredly on your couch as you watched him search around frantically, hair damp and his bare shoulders on display, only catching the briefest glimpses of the towel around his waist as he turned the camera around, “Waitwait—go back!”

“There’s no fucking way you saw it,” Harry argues, “I’ve been looking for the last ten minutes—”

“In the pocket of your suit, the tie is there,” you tell him, “and given that you probably tossed the suit on the bed like you always do, the cufflinks are probably somewhere hiding under the blanket,”

He tosses you against the mattress, your screen succumbing to darkness as you wait, some shifting of the sheets before you hear him make a sound before he appears again, cufflinks pinched between his fingers and a look of defeat on his face.

“What would you do without me?” you ask with a cocky grin, finger hovering over the end call button as he shakes his head.

“What was this for again?” Harry asks curiously, laying you down upright as you caught a glimpse of his bare chest as he shrugged the crisp, white button down over his shoulders.

“It’s a charity auction, your favorite,” you chirp, “and you’re flying solo, so—don’t do anything stupid or…crass,”

“If I paid you double a day of work would you go?” Harry asks after a long pause, glancing down at the screen, “Triple?”

“Triple?!” you gawk, “see—you’re insane, this is what I’m talking about,”

He chuckles despite your response, “You’re good at keeping the sharks away,”

There were particular hawking businessmen who made it their mission to hunt Harry down at events and keep him occupied, eager to do business, whatever it may be—you were the unspoken master of redirection, as much as he refused to admit it.

“Can we grab dinner on the way?” 

“Burgers?” Harry asks, perking up slightly.

It was a constant go-to for you and him.

You nod through the screen, “Don’t even bother with the tie either, I’ll do it.”

–

“I can’t believe you roped me into this on my day off,” you whisper at his side, earning a half-smirk from him.

The charity auction was as lavish as you’d expected.

Crystal chandeliers, gold accents, and far too much champagne and hors d'oeuvres. 

Harry’s hand found the small of your back the moment you arrived, steering you through a sea of designer gowns and tuxedos, feeling uncomfortable in the tight dress and stilettos that you only wore on rare occasions, biting at your heels.

“You’ll survive,” he grins, grabbing you both a glass of champagne and pressing it into your waiting fingers, “I’m gonna…peruse, alright?”

“Don’t say it—that just makes you sound like a creep,” your face scrunches up in disgust as you sip at the alcohol, “just go—go, I’ll…handle everything else.”

The evening passed in a blur of small talk and polite smiles, but somewhere between the endless speeches and bidding wars, you found yourself on the balcony, the cool night air a welcome relief in the stuffy ballroom.

You smell him before you see him, the thick and rich scent of his cologne so familiar you swear you could find him on that alone, turning over your shoulder to see him closing the door quietly, cigarette pack tucked in his palm as he approached with a neutral expression.

“You okay?” you ask, leaning against the railing of the balcony.

Harry sighed, rubbing the back of his neck and then plucking a single cigarette from the box, “Honestly? I’m just tired of it.”

“The auctions? Charity?” you inquire, a small smile tugging at your face.

“All of it.” He looked at you, his gaze lingering as he lit the tobacco, “The events, the dates, searching for—I don’t even fucking know at this point,”

“The offer stands…” you say jokingly, though he knows exactly where this is heading.

“If I wanted a sugar baby I’d find one.”

Your eyes roam over his figure as he puffs at the cigarette, pulling a deep laugh from his chest before you’re pushing him away playfully.

“Let’s go,” he tells you with a deep sigh, stubbing out the end of the cigarette and tucking it away for later, tossing his arm over your shoulder as he readied to guide you through the crowd, always protective in spaces like this, another thing that was special to him.

–

The ride home is quiet, like it always is, both of you sitting in the backseat with the partition up, watching as he looked through his phone with a scowl, occasional typing and sending a message.

Eventually, he looks at you.

“Thank you,” He says with a soft tone, “I know this isn’t your favorite thing to do.”

You tilted your head into the headrest and smiled, crossing one thigh over the other as you worked at your heels to remove them, “Oh, it wasn’t that bad—the free alcohol is always a plus.”

He chuckled at that, silently helping you remove your shoes with a soft squeeze to your foot.

That was normal—but, it forces you to pause.

His natural instinct to help, to touch, to comfort you.

Your brow furrows at the gesture before you shake it away, blaming it on the buzz of alcohol in your system, watching as he continues the gesture with the other foot.

“Having you there makes it bearable, is all,” he explains, looking up at you briefly as he undid the tie around your ankle, “you…calm me, I guess.”

You swallowed. Hard.

The warmth of his words lingering in your chest, in his touch against your ankle, “You’d do the same for me.”

And he would—if you ever needed anything, anything, Harry was there.

“Yeah,” he agreed quietly, “without question.”

The sincerity caught you off guard. 

You turned to study him, the familiar slope of his nose, the line of his jaw. There was something about the way he looked tonight—tired, maybe, but softer. 

And he keeps looking at you, checking.

The car moved smoothly through the dimly lit streets, the city blurring past in streaks of gold and blues and reds. The hum of the engine was steady, the faint sound of music barely audible from the front, through the glass, the back lit up dimly by the trim of lights on the roof and door.

Harry leaned back, one hand moved against the seat, his other hand dragging slowly over his thigh—restless. 

Instinctually, without thinking, you reached for his hand.

It wasn’t purposeful. Just a simple act of absentmindedness.

You’ve done it a hundred times before. 

Tugged at his sleeves to fix his cufflinks, brushed lint from his lapel or pants, adjusted the collar of his shirts. Constantly fixed his hair, touching him wasn’t new.

His skin was warm. Not hot, not cold.

You felt the slight twitch of his hand, like he was debating whether to move. Instead, his fingers shifted, just a fraction, enough that the edge of his thumbnail brushed over the inside of your wrist.

The contact was thoughtless, nothing.

But, in the same moment, it felt like everything.

The way his eyes watched the movement, roamed your body like they had before but with a different implication, his eyes half-lidded and relaxed, wondering how much alcohol he had consumed himself—this wasn’t friendly.

And it definitely wasn’t professional.

Harry’s gaze was on you now, your face, as you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his hand.

Then his thumb moved. 

Up. 

Barely. 

A soft drag along your pulse.

It was half a decade of avoidance, defeat in his heart and mind, and fear in your own.

Broken, by the car rolling to a stop outside of Harry’s apartment building.

“We’re here, Mr. Castillo,” the voice of the driver came from the front, a nod of acknowledgement as his hand slipped from yours.

“Oh, hold on,” you were scooting aside to let him out, readied for the next stop as he cocks his head toward the building, “I’ve got something for you—I’ll drive you home, don’t worry,”

“Harry,” you stress, looking down at his hand that waves you toward him, extending out for you to grab, insistently as his fingers wiggle in wait.

Turns out, he wasn’t totally lying.

That something was accompanied by a seven thousand dollar bottle of Leroz Aux Brulees—you knew that because you had purchased it during his trip to France, the supposed city of love.

“I’m going to murder you,” you tell him as he places the bottle on the counter and keeps the closed case of mystery at his side, “hide your body, flee country—I hate surprises, you know that.”

“I think you’ll like this one,” he grins, popping the cork on the bottle and pouring two hefty glasses, eyeing the deep red as it glugged into the glass.

“You know, if you wanted company you could have just asked,” you tell him, “I get it, you’re lonely,”

He knows you’re only teasing but it stings nonetheless, both of you taking a long and heavy sip as his fingers swirl over the velvet casing before he’s pushing it over quickly, tapping it with his fingers, “Open it,” he encourages, eyeing you over the rim.

You place your glass down and pry it open slowly, carefully, like you were deconstructing a bomb, but as the piece inside comes into view you find yourself at a loss for words or thoughts.

Your eyes are wide, staring up at him with parted lips that tingled from the lingering alcohol, knowing you should have cut yourself off at one glass of champagne and refused to come inside, that you should have just went home and enjoyed what little bit of the day you had left to yourself.

Now, you were looking back at a necklace so delicate you were afraid to stare at it too long, embedded with a cluster of diamonds and nearly two years of your rent if you were doing the math correctly in your mind.

Always about the numbers, Harry constantly teased.

“I saw how you looked at it the other day,” he admits, “and I owe you a hell of a lot more, but it…I’m trying to say thank you for…being you,”

“I’m not taking that,” you refuse with a laugh of disbelief, sliding back over to him gently, downing the rest of your wine in one go to forget how fast your heart was beating in your chest.

“You are,” Harry insists, “consider it a bonus—Christmas is in a couple months, too.”

“You know…this is exactly that kind of stuff a sugar da—”

Harry makes a noise, shaking his head.

You bite your lip in thought, ignoring his subtle annoyance at your comment.

It was fucking beautiful, really.

You sigh, using one finger to turn the case back toward you, examining it closely.

Quietly, Harry presses his glass into the counter and rounds the edge toward you, his chest at your shoulder as he reaches for the jewelry, working carefully at the clasp before he’s motioning for you to relax your shoulders.

It wasn’t the stillness of the moment, but his touch, again.

He’s methodical in the way he touches you, dragging his hand around your neck as he fits the necklace into place, his fingertips pressing against the column of your throat in a way that tickles slightly, shifting uncomfortably until you hear the faint click and he breathes behind you, hands resting at your shoulders.

You’re not sure why he hasn’t moved, but you find yourself turning to speak.

“I’m just going to call an uber,” you tell him, “probably shouldn’t drive since we’ve both been drinking,”

“Yeah,” he agrees, but it sounds hollow, his eyes not following you as you move.

You hop from the chair and bend down to grab your shoes, but his hand is curling around your bicep and pulling you up and he’s staring again, the charge of his touch sending a jolt through your body as freeze,

“Come here,” he beckons, too natural.

And you listen.

He’s soft, every part of him. Skin, clothes, hair, lips.

He’s kissing you gently, like you might break, but you can tell he wants more.

Needs more.

“Are you going to regret this tomorrow?” you find yourself asking as he parts from you, licking at his lips as you both take a breath, letting the moment settle.

He shakes his head, “Are you?”

“Maybe,” you answer honestly, “maybe…not—fuck, I don’t know,”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” he promises, but you knew that was a lie.

Still, you nod in understanding.

–

He’s so tender with his touch, slipping you out of the dress in the dim light of his room.

Even softer as he guides you to your back and spreads himself on his belly between your legs, fingers interlocked with his at your hips as he buries his nose between your folds, his tongue splitting your cunt open in a sharp gasp that has you throwing your head back. His lips traced a slow, deliberate path down your body, igniting sparks along every inch of your skin. 

He kissed along the curve of your thighs, teasing, tasting, until the tension was unbearable and with each flick of his tongue, each gentle suck, it pulled you deeper into a haze of heady desire. 

This was reckless, dangerous, but neither of you found the moment to pause and think.

You wonder if things had been building to this for a while—if it was always supposed to happen this way or if he was acting off of greed; lust and companionship, even if just for a night.

You know you can ask him to stop at any point and he would, but even as his tongue brings you to your first orgasm of the night and he’s guiding you to your stomach, reaching blindly into his bedside table for a foil wrapping the crinkles loudly in the silence, you want this.

It was embarrassing how badly you wanted this.

He fucks you slow, too. 

It was torturous, his chest flat against your back as he palms his cock and feeds it into you.

You don’t talk, neither does he.

But, his low moans and stuttering breaths speak for him.

If you could see him, you’d know how furrowed his brow would be, a hand sliding over the curve of your ass until he can reach your thigh, beckoning for you to raise it without speaking.

You oblige, the angle of his thrusts changing on a dime.

“I can’t believe you’re real sometimes,” he admits like he’s confessing a sin.

“Please,” you plead—please stop talking, please keep going, please fuck me.

You couldn’t decide.

You feel him nod where his forehead is pressed between your shoulder blades as his fist curls into the sheet beside your head.

“Another, gimme another,” he pleads, the fingers on his other hand curling under your neck to life your chin, not expecting to meet his eyes as he leans over you.

The expression on his face so raw it makes you flutter around him, his lips parting in a deep, guttural groan, “I know you can,” he nods hurriedly.

And damn, does the praise work.

Your whimper breaks him, breathing out shakily as you locked eyes when he comes, slow and forceful thrusts until you’re nothing but an exhausted pile of tangled limbs.

“Greedy girl,” he comments through the haze, a weak giggle bubbling from your chest.

He pulls out slowly, a low grunt as he does so.

You’re not sure when you fall asleep, but you wake to a startling amount of weight over your stomach, an arm splayed possessively, the faint outline of a ring as you drag your hand over the limb.

It’s only as your eyes pry open that reality hits you, stumbling out of bed quickly.

No…nononono, where the fuck were your clothes? Jesus.

You stumble around half awake, searching for the silk dress on the floor, feeling accomplished when you find it and hastily redressing yourself as Harry stirs in bed, encouraging you to hurry, to slip out before he can say anything.

Your shoes are already on and you’re reaching for the doorknob when the voice comes, the weight of the necklace that still remained on your neck, two empty glasses of wine on the counter, a night of hasty choices and urgency laid out like a crime scene as his voice rings out from behind you, pleading.

“Don’t—don’t go,” Harry begs, “You don’t have to go,”

So much of this was wrong—it complicated everything.

Your life, your job, your relationship with him.

He can see you slipping, fingers inching toward the knob as he approaches you in a hurry, barefoot and shirtless, the kind of scene you shouldn’t be comforted with, like this was all normal to the both of you.

You’ve seen him like this a thousand times, but not when he’s looking at you so vulnerable, heart tore open and stapled to his chest, beating against your own as his hands splayed out over your cheeks.

“I don’t regret it,” he assures you again, “so please—stay, okay?”

“What changed?” you ask, voice trembling, “Five years, Harry. Five.”

“I’ve been running in circles this entire time,” he admits, “you know it—I know it.”

You had been there the entire time, learning every part of him without judgement, cataloging his flaws and skills, learning how he ticked and what motivated him. You had never quite settled on the ideal person to fit in his life as his partner, it surely wasn’t you.

It couldn’t be you.

“Please, don’t go,” Harry echoed once more.

The sick, cruel joke of it all was that this was your job. 

You had nowhere to go. If it was any other morning, you would just be arriving, leaving his breakfast in the kitchen and starting your day.

You nod solemnly, “Of course, Mr. Castillo.”

It was painstaking, forcing the mask back on.

But, you couldn’t deal with this now.

Or ever, even.

Harry looks at you with a confused sadness, thumbs rubbing at your cheekbones before his hands fall to his side.

You’d figure this out, you always did.

[sunrizef1]

Baby Blue

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x fem!reader

Warnings: Slight cursing, not edited

Word count: 3.8k (this was supposed to be short 😭)

Summary: Logan had just misspoke, shouldnt have been a huge problem, right? Wait, what do you mean he said he had a daughter? And is that his girlfriend?

Authors Note: Surpise, not a whiv chapter but instead, an uncharacteristically sweet fic.

Logan had fucked up. Royally. And he knew that, which is why, the second the words had left his mouth, he was grimacing, gaze quickly switching over to Oscar who was sat a few yards away with wide eyes.

It was the United States Grand Prix. Austin, Texas. Logan had been put on the media panel that day since he was the only American present and had the most connection to Austin, Daniel Ricciardo not included.

By pure luck or maybe by sheer will, Logan had been sat next to Oscar, both grateful to have a friend next to them. Fortunately, on Oscar’s other side was Max, a driver who’d always been respectful toward the American. Lewis completed the quartet, another driver that Logan wouldn’t have to worry about in terms of kindness.

When the panel started, almost none of the questions were for him. He’d expected that, he wasn’t exactly having an overwhelming season. Especially compared to the joys and successes of the Red Bull world champion or the unexpected high-placing finishes of the Aussie next to him. And his woes were nothing to write home about when placed next to the declining team performances from the 7-time world champion and future Ferrari driver.

So, as he had expected, most of the questions were asked to his left.

But he’d been put on the panel for a reason, and eventually an America-related question did arise, signaling that maybe he would be of use today.

“Good morning,” the reporter calls out toward Logan and he smiles with a nod toward the darkness where the reporters are all sat.

“Morning.”

“How’s it feel to be back racing in America? You have any family or special guests in the garage this weekend, giving you that extra boost?”

Oscar nudges his knee with his own, causing Logan to let out a small laugh as he glances over. He actually did have some special guests in the garage, not just his own family, who’d come from Miami for this, but also, you, his Fiancée. And his 4-year-old daughter, of course.

Your entire family lived in Texas. So whenever you werent following Logan around the world, you landed back home in Texas, the family home being the best place for your daughter to grow up. It helped that your parents loved her more than the world, constant presents being rained down on the little girl every time you’d bring her. He hadn’t seen you in about two months, not having had a time to come back to America since summer. So having you in his garage for the first time in a while was all that much more of a motivator for him.

He raises the microphone to his lips to say a paraphrased version of that, your relationship not being a very public one yet. Logan wanted to get the wedding done before he paraded you around, not wanting to add the stress of the public on your already existing stress from wedding planning and taking care of your daughter.

“It’s always great to get back home, you know? Uh, got to stay with some family out here for a few days, got some good southern food in me, which was great,” Logan laughs lightly, watching as the reporters grin widens, “And it always feels different when you’ve got important people in the garage, cheering you on. People who don’t usually get to make it, so that’s really nice.”

The reporter nods as Logan puts his mic down, but she raises hers to further the questioning, “Anyone specific? A lot of people were curious about a few different people in your garage.”

Logan nods, your family was pretty well known, especially in Texas. You weren’t famous or anything, but you’d grown up like Logan and when people have that type of money, their names get spoken pretty often.

“Yeah, some close family and friends. You’re probably asking about the l/n’s and I, um, knew them growing up so it’s really nice to see them out here supporting me,” Logan pauses slightly. The internet was pretty sure he had a girlfriend, not that he’d confirmed anything. It wasn’t hard to figure out though, as he almost never shut up about you. But it wouldn’t hurt if he mentioned having a girlfriend, right? Everyone already knew that anyway, it couldn’t do too much damage, “My girlfriend’s here, as well. Really happy to have her here, she hasn’t been to a race in a while.”

Oscar snorts, making Logan glare at the Aussie. Oscar knew you were more than his girlfriend, having been present at the engagement. He also knew Logan was leaving out a key family member in his list, a certain baby being completely unmentioned.

“Well it’s always nice to have your family, right?” The reporter nods with a kind smile, jotting something down on her notebook.

Logan nods with a matching smile, eyes shining as he thinks about you and your family in the garage, “Yeah, and I mean, my daughter-“

Logan pauses, stomach dropping as he takes in the slip-up. He glances over to Oscar whose eyes are wide with shock, mouth dropped open slightly. Max leans forward to lock eyes with the American from Oscars other side, eyebrows furrowed. Lewis looks his way as well, but his expression is soft as he takes in the younger man’s evident embarrassment.

Logan had fucked up.

His cheeks are bright red as all the eyes in the room stare at him, questioning looks on their faces. Logan laughs slightly, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks back out toward the reporter who’s now wearing an incredulous smile, “Shit.”

This breaks some of the shock in the room, laughs ringing out from in front of him. Logan shakes his head with another embarrassed laugh, “My girlfriends gonna be so mad at me.”

Logan drops the mic next to him, reaching his hands up to shield his face in order to avoid some of the embarrassment. Oscar, still laughing, reaches over to pat him on the back, his free hand stifling the laugh threatening to escape his throat.

Luckily for Logan, they run out of time before the questions can get back to him and the surprise child he just revealed he had. He’s quick to rush out of the room, only pausing to allow Oscar to catch up before he’s gone again, practically running to Williams.

He can hear Oscar struggling to keep up behind him, shocked laughs occasionally echoing out as he runs.

“Logan- Come on, slow down man!” Oscars calling out toward the blond, Logan continuing at his fast pace. He only slows when he makes it to hospitality, Oscar slamming on his brakes in order to avoid crashing into the taller mans back.

Logans eyes scan the room in search of you, Oscar reaching a tired arm up to rest agaisnt the distressed Americans shoulder.

Oscars groaning as Logan walks off, apparently having caught sight of your family.

“Hi, Mrs. L/N,” Logan says shyly as he walks up to your mom, a sheepish smile painted on his flushed face. Your mom turns toward him with a smile but after taking in his guilty demeanor, she looks at him suspiciously.

“You’ve known me for 18 years and you’ve never called me Mrs L/N,” your mom looks your fiancé up and down, eyes narrowing as she catches sight of an equally nervous Oscar, “What did you do, Logan? And why did you drag Oscar into it?”

Logan laughs nervously, glancing back at Oscar who ducks his head, looking away from the interaction, “Do you, maybe, know where y/n is? It’s important.”

Your mom pauses, suspicion still rolling of her in waves. But, sensing Logan’s urgency, she nods, “She’s in your room with Nat.”

Logan can’t help the smile that shows at the mention of your daughter’s name, sighing slightly with relief, “Thank you, I need to go talk to her.”

Your mom just nods, watching as Logan starts to walk quickly away, moving toward you in his room. Oscar moves to follow but your mom is calling him back before he can take a step, “Stay here, Oscar. Let him go, you’re going to tell me about the season. Either that or you’ll be the one to tell me what Logan did.”

Oscar, having had plenty of conversations with your mother while growing up, sighs, accepting his fate, “It’s been good.”

Logan, though, has made it to his room, opening the door quietly as he reaches it. He smiles once he looks inside, being met with you dancing around with your daughter, music playing from your phone on the table. As the door opens, your daughter looks over, a grin breaking out on her little face as she practically lights up, “Daddy!”

Logan grins as your daughter jumps up, sprinting over to jump into her dad’s embrace, giggling as he lifts her up into the air, clutching her gently to his chest, “Hi, baby. You having fun with mama?”

Your daughter nods, smiling brightly as she turns to look back at you, “Yeah! Me and mama went to see the cars and they let me sit in it! I wanna be a driver like you, dad.”

Logan grins, looking over to where you’re stood, a small smile on your face as you watch the interaction. When you catch Logan’s gaze on you, you speak up, “They let her sit in your car. They told her about how her daddy races every weekend and she decided that that’s what she wanted to do. She said you’re the coolest person she knows, now.”

Logan laughs, warmth filling his heart as you recap your daughter’s words, “Just don’t tell her Oscar races, too. Can’t have her thinking he’s cooler than me.”

You daughter looks up at the statement, confusion crossing her face, “Uncle Os drives fast too?”

Logan hums, nodding as he sways, your daughter resting her head on his chest, “Yeah, he does. He’s not as cool as me, though.”

You daughter hums, “I think he’s pretty cool.”

You laugh, moving toward the father-daughter pair, a serious look crossing your face, “He is, baby. Do you want to go see him so I can talk to daddy?”

Logan grimaces but lets go as your daughter nods, letting you set her down. She wraps her small hand around one of your fingers, swaying happily at the idea of seeing her Australian uncle.

You push the door open to go find Oscar but when you look up, you see Oscar’s already stood there. He looks exhausted and Logan knows that a conversation with your mom was no doubt the reason why.

“Uncle Ozzy!” Your daughter’s small voice calls from below you, causing a bright grin to burst onto Oscar’s face as he picks her up, the small girls hands immediately moving to push against his face. Oscar laughs, moving an arm to support the small girls weight as she pushes his face around.

You smile at the pair, laughing as your daughter grasps Oscars hair in her small fists and pulls gently, just watching as his head rolls around, “Can you watch her? I have to talk to Logan.”

Oscar smirks, glancing over your shoulder to see Logan standing sheepishly, “Someones in trouble.”

You hum, small smile on your lips, “Can you just hang with her for a minute?”

“Yeah, I can,” Oscar says, smiling down at your daughter in his arms, “Anything for my favourite American.”

You hear Logan mumble “rude” under his breath, warranting a snort from you as you watch Oscar walk away, no doubt about to parade your daughter around to anyone who'd listen.

You turn back around, coming face-to-face with Logans grimacing form, “Saw the panel.”

Logan winces, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck, “Yeah?”

You hum, stepping across the room to reach your fiance, “Mhm, I did.”

“Im sorry,” Logan sighs, looking anywhere but at you.

You can't help the small laugh that escapes you at his clear distress. Logans head snaps up, confusion crossing his face at your apparent glee, “What?”

“Im not mad, Lo,” you laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck. He stares at you, a puzzled look stuck on his previously fear-stricken face.

“You’re not?”

You smile up at him, shaking your head, “I mean, it's not how I would’ve wanted to announce it but I don’t mind too much.”

“Really?” You giggle when you catch the relief on his face, his shoulders dropping dramatically.

“Mhm,” you tangle one of your hands in the hair at the nape of his neck, his head tilting slightly back into your touch, “It was nice to be private for a while during the engagement. We didn’t have concrete wedding plans and Nat was so young. But the weddings basically planned and Nats old enough to handle herself in public, I think it’s a really good time, actually. Do you want to say something official?”

“I will, but until then I’d be happy to not have to hide you guys,” Logan grins, a hand reaching up to grasp the side of your face. You blush as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“That sounds lovely,” you say, untangling yourself from his hold, “But, for now, I think you have interviews to attend to.”

“Yeah, yeah, I do,” Logan replies, but his gaze is still locked on you, love filling his eyes, “I’ll see you in a minute, I love you.”

“Love you too, Lo. Go do your interviews,” Your soft smile shines, lighting up your face.

Logan nods, moving to exit the small room, stopping to send you another grin. You laugh, pushing him out of the room, the door sliding closed behind him.

He moves on practical auto-pilot, feet carrying him to the media pen, thoughts of his family stuck on his mind. He reaches the pen quickly, spotting a group of about 8 drivers all huddled together in a chat. He thinks about walking the other direction but Max spots him first, gesturing for the younger driver to walk over. Logan agrees reluctantly, making his way to his fellow drivers.

“Logan!” Max calls, a smile on his face as he greets the Williams driver warmly.

Logan nods, smiling at Max politely, “Hey, Max.”

Max grins, throwing an arm around the blond driver, “How are you doing?”

Logan hums with a small smirk, knowing exactly what Max was eluding to, “I’m great, actually. Thanks for asking, Max.”

Max tilts his head with a wide smile, raising an eyebrow, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I mean, you know how my morning went.”

Max seems to catch that Logan’s allowing him to publicly address the situation in front of the other drivers, turning his attention to the slightly confused drivers around them, “How’d the Mrs feel about it?”

“She was fine with it,” Logan smiles, “Honestly kinda happy to be open about it.”

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” Lando says from across the small circle, a confused look occupying his face.

Logan shakes his head lightly, arms crossed across his chest, “Fiancée, actually. Been engaged for like a year now.”

This sends a wave of shock around the group, Daniel being the only one to pipe up, a huge smile on his face, “I know what this is about!”

George turns to the VCARB driver, a questioning look laying beneath his dramatic sunglasses, “What are you talking about?”

Before Daniel can explain, a high-pitched voice yells out from behind Logan.

“Daddy!”

Several drivers turn, being met with the sight of a small girl sprinting her way toward the group, a smiley Oscar trailing along behind her. The girl giggled as she approaches her father, skipping along happily as she gets near him. Logan leans down, opening his arms to let her walk into his grasp. She wraps her arms around his neck and Logan holds her tightly as Oscar stops behind him.

“Hey baby,” Logan says to his daughter as he looks down at her, “Have a good time with uncle Osc?”

The small girl nods excitedly, grinning as she looks back over to the man she’d spent the past 15 minutes with, “Ozzy took me to the orange garage, um, papaya I think actually, and I got to sit in another car!”

Logan hums, running a hand through the girls hair, trying his best to swipe it back into place, “Yeah?”

“Uh huh, it was really fun!”

Logan smiles, turning back to thank Oscar for looking after the girl. He turns back around, catching the gaze of about 8 different F1 drivers, all with varying levels of shock painted on their faces, “I don't know if you guys saw, but, um, I accidently revealed i had a daughter this morning and, um, this is her?”

Max is the first to laugh, having already been through his shock about the young girl currently attached to her father. Logans face heats as the drivers stare, Nat burrowing her head in her fathers neck as she tries to discreetly glance at the men around her without having to make any eye contact.

“Congrats, man,” Daniel grins, moving over to clap the younger driver on the back. Logan chuckles slightly as your daughter finally moves her head away from him, her curiosity at the Aussie overtaking her shyness.

The honey badger smiles at her, nodding his head. She smiles gently, reaching a small fist out toward the man. Daniels eyes widen at the gesture, eyes glancing between the girl and her outstretched arm before he reaches his own hand up to fist-bump hers. She nods with a satisfied smile, turning back toward Logans neck.

“He’s kinda cool, I think,” She mumbles and Logan smiles glancing over to see if Daniel has heard her words. Based on the increased grin on his face, Logan figures he had.

The rest of the drivers take their turns congratulating Logan on his fatherhood and introducing themselves to the small girl, her favourites being Daniel, Max, George and Alex, who she’d already met in the Williams garage over the past few months.

Eventually, all the socializing caused her to fall asleep against her father's chest, her tired eyes slowly drifting closed. Logan sways slightly, trying his best to soothe her in her slumber.

Once she's fallen asleep, he turns to Oscar, "Do you know where y/n is?"

Oscar nods, "I think she'd fallen asleep when I went to drop Nat back off. Didn't want to wake her so I just brought her over here."

Logan nods, glancing over to see the other drivers getting pulled into interviews. He didn't want to wake you, knowing how little sleep you'd been getting lately with all the wedding planning and your daughter. Anyone else in your family would be too hard to find on such short notice.

So, when his pr officer calls him over to do interviews, he holds Nat a little bit tighter, hoping the interviews don't wake her.

He smiles at the shocked interviewer as she hands him a microphone which he holds in his free hand, trying his best to support your daughter with one arm.

"Morning," Logan nods, voice low.

The interviewer nods slightly, shaking herself out of her shock so she can ask the American some questions.

"Good morning!" Logan thanks his lucky stars as the woman catches his drift and tries her hardest to stay cheerful while keeping her voice relatively quiet, "I had a couple questions about the panel from this morning but it seems you've answered them yourself before I could even ask."

Logan laughs, glancing down at his girl before bringing the microphone to his lips, "Yeah, my girlfriend was asleep and I didn't want to wake her so this girl is joining us today."

The interviewer smiles warmly, "Before this I saw she was hanging out with some of the other drivers?"

"Yeah, yeah, she was. She, uh, had a good time getting to meet some of the grid. But, you know, all the socializing tired her out."

The woman in front of him nods again, glancing over his shoulder at who Logan knew to be Max, getting asked questions across the pen, "How'd they react?"

"I think they were pretty surprised, you know? I don't think a lot of them saw the panel from this morning and even then, I didn't really give much of an explanation. Don't think Max even believed me until Oscar brought her over," Logan laughs, grinning lovingly at the girl starting to stir in his arms.

"Hi baby," Logan says gently, watching as the little girl rubs at her eyes, trying to pull the tiredness from them.

"Hi Dad, where'd Ozzy go?"

Logan glances over his shoulder, looking for the Australian in question. He eventually sees him, turning his body so Nat can see him as well,

"Uncle Osc is just over there, angel."

The girls nods, a frown still on her face from having to wake up, “What about Maxy?”

Logan grins, happy that his daughter was already comfortable with his fellow drivers, even going as far to seek Max out. Logan turns straight around, pointing behind them at the Red Bull driver, "He's there. And Danny's next to him."

The girl nods, a satisfied look on her face as she spots her new friends. Logan turns back to the interviewer, the grin not leaving his face.

Max, meanwhile, is in the middle of an interview when he notice the interviewer looking over his shoulder. Max looks at the man in front of him with a confused look, the man quick to explain.

"Think the newest addition to the paddock is looking for you, Max."

Max looks over his shoulder to see a small girl, chin resting on her dad's shoulder as she stares back at Max. When he turns to see her, she grins, moving a small hand to wave excitedly at the driver before moving to tug at her father's hair, looking for his attention.

Max grins, waving back as Logan looks over, indulging the girl. She laughs happily, getting even more excited as she spots Daniel beside him.

"Maxy! Danny!" Max looks beside him and sees that Daniel hasn't noticed your daughters yelling and he quickly leans to the side, poking the Aussie. Daniel turns to the side to see what Max wants but is instead met with Max pointing vaguely across the pen. Daniel glances over and grins when he sees Logan and his daughter, the smaller of the two waving hurriedly at the pair of drivers.

Daniel waves back, a grin practically splitting his face. The interviewer sends him a questioning glance and he laughs lightly, "Seems we've got a new cheerleader, then."

The interviewer laughs, quickly returning to the questions. Max, after waving bye to your daughter, turns back as well.

Your daughter, now properly noticed by her new favorite drivers, turns back around, letting Logan get back to his questions. She wraps her arms around his neck gently, smiling in satisfaction as she leans up to tell him something.

"I like your friends, dad."

Logan smiles warmly, happy to see her getting along with his coworkers, "I'm glad, baby."

———————————————

@casperlikej @evie-119

[magicalmanhattanproject]

Okay, so with Quackity Studios tweeting about adding new people and the need for tolerance and patience with people who don't speak English, let's just take a second and have a chat about what that's gonna look like.

First: you will hear things or read things on the translator that hurt or offend you.

This is inevitable. Do not immediately post about it. What you need tolerance for is hearing things that hurt or offend you and what you need patience for is figuring out of malicious intent was present or if this is a hill worth dying on right now.

As an example, we're pretty sure at this point that Korean is gonna be the next language added. The second person pronoun in Korean sounds a lot like the n-word in English. The n-word in English, if you're not aware, is like the single most offensive slur we have. It's not something that you want to hear unexpectedly. But also, if we get Koreans, they're gonna be using the word for "you" and English speakers are gonna have to be able to tolerate that.

On the other side of things, Korean has a complex system of honorifics and addressing someone without an honorific would be considered very forward and intimate at least if not very rude. None of the QSMP languages have honorifics though and only French really retains formality* so no one else is going to address them with honorifics unless they specifically explain it to people and walk them through it. That will probably be weird and uncomfortable for them and they're going to have to be able to tolerate that.

*Spanish and Portuguese do technically have formal vs informal but it's disappearing quickly in both of them.

These natural cultural clashes and pain points are going to be harder to overcome since we also know that at least some of these creators won't speak English at all so they can't just switch to English to helpfully explain things to us easily in a way we understand. We're going to have to deal.

So here's the thing: just because there can be cultural miscommunications and mistranslations, that doesn't mean that people can't also be assholes. How do you distinguish between the two?

Step One: Assume good faith. Assume that everyone in a given encounter is trying to communicate respectfully and compassionately and that a failure to do so can be overcome

Step Two: Don't get involved. Especially not in Twitch Chat. Two or more people trying to communicate through a language barrier does not get easier when they're also trying to wrangle hostile viewers.

Step Three: Are you sure you heard what you thought you heard or saw what you thought you saw? Did the translator fuck up? Is it a word that just coincidentally happens to sound like another word? If this is the case, the streamers can ask for clarification or use another tool and get it cleared up. Keep watching and see if they do.

Step Four: If they did say what you thought they said, are the streamers handling it? We had a thing a while back where Bad called some friends, including Bagi and Etoiles, uncultured because they didn't get a reference he was making and Etoiles was like "bro I'm French" and Bad apologized. That should have been the end of it, but I had to see people arguing about it for weeks. The problem was solved in 10 seconds.

Step Five: If the person is doubling down, are you sure this is something you can fix by yelling about it on Twitter or Tumblr? Would it be better to let people who actually know them talk to them behind the scenes? Pierre made a few missteps in the beginning of the server, Quackity said they had a chat, Pierre hasn't misstepped since. It's just easier to sort things out in private, one on one conversation than yelling at someone in public.

In short: it's fine to take note of behavior in case patterns start to emerge in it, but yelling on social media about how so and so is the worst person possible is not constructive.

[bunny-1111]

Wooooo Theo requests are opennnnnn

Could we have some jealous Theo pls?

Ofc you can... jealous Theo, here we go.

Word count: 1.8k

warning: swearing, aggressive behaviour, sexual innuendo

unread or edited

likes, comments and reblogs highly appreciated <3

...

It was unusual for you to intentionally piss Theo off, yes, you loved to tease him from time to time, but Theodore Nott has always been a hot-headed assassin if you push him far enough.

That brings you to today, more specifically, one hour and three minutes ago, when Professor Snape entrusted your class to choose partners for an upcoming assignment.

Of course, as usual, you had made your way to Theo to get started. To your complete surprise, your teddy was already settled and started with none other than Daphne Greengrass.

The problem with Greengrass was that she and Theodore were both house Prefects together, and their corridor patrol had already been a tense conversation topic during your last argument.

She kept him from you. Yes, it was mandatory, but respecting your girlfriend's boundaries should also be compulsory, you recall stating. He kissed your forehead and muttered something about you being overdramatic.

So you suck your teeth and tap him on the shoulder, his body turning to you with such imperturbable composure that it was almost as if you were interrupting.

"Work together?" you smiled, your lips too tight

His hand had gestured back to Daphne. "I can't, Greengrass bet you to it, darling", he explained, letting out an almost nervous chuckle.

You took a moment to scan the scene; we're playing this game, sure, game on.

"Really?" You questioned, your voice a little higher than usual, only to be met with a nod, so you smiled once more before leaving him with a quick peck on his cheek.

That brings you to now, watching them from a distance, the quill in your hand threatening to snap from the grip you held.

"Oh, come on, working with me can't be that bad, can it?" Lorenzo joked, gently insinuating to let go of your death grip before ink exploded everywhere

"No Enzo, it's not, just plotting for murder" you sigh, nudging your head in Theo's direction

"don't go all dark on us common folk, kid" he laughed

"Oh, I'm not. The rest of you are safe... for now," you joke back

"But seriously, Enz" you continue, throwing your hand in their direction.

"Yeah, well, I'd say bring it up tonight, but your boy's got patrol tonight too. He told us he can't come for a late-night fly, you see," rambled Enzo, now joining your stare towards Theo and Daphne.

"He does?" you beam

"He does." Enzo states

You nod as your face reflects a plan coming into your mind, a taste of his own medicine

"Oh no, I don't like that look." warns Enzo

"I don't know what you're referring to?" you practically sing

"What's more, I don't like that tone in you're the voice," he says, moving slightly away from you.

"Have I ever told you how much I appreciate our friendship, Enz?" You almost pout

"Nope, no, don't start this", he complains

"How about for two hundred galleons?" you pry

"Ok, what're we doing" he smiles.

By the time dinner rolled around, you had made an undeniable choice not to sit next to Theodore. Instead, you nestled between Blaise and Lorenzo, moving in closer to Enzo than comfortable. Laughing a little too loud at his jokes, holding eye contact for a second too long.

You observed Theo's demeanour across from you. His fork clattered against his plate, his appetite visibly waning. Across the table, his dark eyes narrowed, flicking between you and Lorenzo.

It was working, and you would finish with a bang.

When Lorenzo reached out of his pocket a small piece of parchment and passed it into your hand without shame. Taking the paper you open it, smile and nod his way.

By instinct, Theodore's hand shot over the table to examine the note for himself, but you were a step ahead, moving it just out of his reach, before shoving it in your own pocket.

"Passing notes to your best friend, girl, huh, Enz?" Theos tone ice cold

"For our assignment in Snape's class, ain't that right?" Enzo smiled playfully, knocking his shoulder into your own

"Right, Snapes class" you reply

"ah shit, I slept in this morning. Who'd I get paired up with?" complained Mattheo

"Don't stress, Riddle. We get to pick; it's whoever you'd like," you explain, your eyes not leaving a now agitated Theo.

By the end of dinner, you’d had enough fun—almost. As you stood to leave, Theo caught your arm.

“Come by tonight?” His voice was low, almost hesitant.

You smiled,  sharp. “I can’t, things to do. You’ve got patrol, remember? Have fun.” turning on your heels, leaving him strained.

Theodore almost constantly got his way, but this, this had to be dealt with; what the fuck was your problem and what the fuck were you up to.

Late into the night, Theodore walked cooly through the dungeons, Daphne beside him; as they walked, Daphne rambled on about Merlin knows, but Theodore didn't hear a word. He heard quick, shuffled footsteps around the corner; assuming it was some trouble-making third years, he quickened his pace.

As he approaches closer, he finally spots a shadow, as he squints his eyes he thinks he can make the shape out to be a girl

"Hey, stop right there!" he calls out, his voice echoing back in the quite of the night

Turning around you prepare to shrug your shoulders or run, depending on his reaction

"Alright, caught me fair and square, Officer Nott," you say mockingly holding your hands up

"Baby? The fuck are you doing, do you know what time it is?" he rushes brows furrowed, hand reaching for your face, he almost feels the need to examine you for injury, you're never out this late.

"I'm just fine, you won't write me up for this, will you," you grin taking a step away from him "Hi Daphne," you say as she comes around the corner

Before Theodore could reply or get an answer from you loud footsteps are heard again, this time not coming from you

"Are you with someone" he spills out, his voice sharp, accusatory

Opening your mouth to answer, before you could get a word out Lorenzo appears from the corner behind you

"You ready?" Enzo calls out to you then turns to Theo. "Hey mate, patrol kicking your ass or what?" he laughs walking to your side

"No, but I'll be kicking your ass if you don't explain to me why the fuck you're meeting my girlfriend at half past one in the morning?" Theo practically growled

"We're going to the astronomy tower, if you'll excuse us" you explain brows raised, attempting to walk off with Enzo, before Lornezo and yourself could walk all but four steps, Theos extending his rough hand to Enzos chest, halting any movenmt

"I don't think so, Daphne if you wouldn't mind walking Mr Berkshire here to his dorm, make sure he gets to bed" Theo demands, stalking closer. "I'll handle trouble of here myself" His eyes darkening as his hand finds your back immediately ushering you away before Daphne can even agree.

Theodore took you down a long hallway, out of sight before pressing you against a wall "The fuck kind of game are you playing with me, you think this shits gonna slide with me?" he mumbles as his hand slides up the wall behind you

"I was just seeing a friend, we were gonna work on Snapes project" you protest

"Yeah not on my fucking watch you're not" his voice now raised

"We're trying to sleep here!" A portrait from above calls out

"See don't want to upset the paintings now do we, I'll be going" you smile foot in front of the other, before you feel a pull forcing you back in your place, Theodore fingers gripping you by the loop of your jeans

"you got a real knack for pissing me off, y'know that," he says, his lips inches away from yours, his voice low

"feelings mutual, Nott" you mutter

Before you can protest anymore, his lips come crashing down onto yours, heavy, rough, possessive. You try to wrap your arms around him only to be met with his hands tight-gripped on each side of your hips, like he is trying to anchor himself. He was literally putting you in your place as his lips left yours too quickly

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath ragged.

"Let me make something clear, try to get it through your thick, fucking, skull", he spat, his finger gently digging into your temple

"I'm not spending tonight with Greengrass by choice alright, I know why your doing this shit, you have nothing to worry about, don't give me a damn reason to question you" he rants

"I-" you interject

"No, I'm talking." he interrupts

"I don't share whats mine, you're mine" he continues his tone so sharp, it wasn't up for question, all you could do was nod

"So now you're gonna say sorry, Theodore and then we're gonna go to my dorm, so when you get to Snapes class tomorrow, you'll be limping" he orders

"I'm sorry" you say almost too quickly hoping the two words would be enough to get you to his dorm as soon as possible

"Good girl, I'm sorry too, for not making things with Daphne clearer, we belong to each other you and me" he says as his hand rubs up and down your arm

You nod once again in agreement

"Now what the fuck to do about Enzo" he laughs, cracking his knuckles as if to prepare

"No! I paid him to do this, I knew you'd be on shift, I knew you'd catch us" you ramble out

The confession makes Theo stop dead in his tracks

"You what?"

"I didn't know what else to do" you admit

"How much did he take?" he almost smiles

"300" you mutter

"that cheap git" he spits out

"Alright" he mutters picking you up throwing you over his shoulder

"Hey!" you yelp out

"Shut it!" a portrait from above called out

Ignoring the crowd above completely, Theo picks up his pace. "So this time, you can't run away", he says, tightening his grip on your thigh.

Let's just say the next morning in Snape's class, partners were swapped very quickly, Theodore insisting Lorenzo and Daphne were stationed on the opposite side of class; coincidence? Highly unlikely.

woohoo jealous teddy put me in my place next

[kaciebello]

hey!!! Could you do a social media au of pictures y/n posted to get my crushes attention - specifically for Mattheo - using Sydney Melman as the face claim? It would also help funny if some of the other Slytherin boys like swiped up and though it was meant for them but really it was for Mattheo. Thanks lovie

Pictures I posted... Reader edition

Slytherin boys texts genre: crack warning: none note: Since you asked so nicely. Also, I had to google who Sydney is, that face card is lethal Navigation Masterlist

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Taglist

@klimovatereza-blog , @lafrone ,@enfppuff , @rafegfs , @frogtape , @lovelyygirl8 , @catiwinky, @leeleecats , @ghostgardn , @reverse-soe , @ultramarinetovelvet @jazz-berry , @justatadbonkers , @partnerincrime0 , @schaebickel , @deluluassapocalypse , @adreamingpendulum, @imobsessedwitholiviarodrigo, @happydragonfrog , @harvey-malfoy , @helendeath , @caffeine-addict-slug , @mrvlfanman , @pink-heartz , @feistyfox47 , @nickspotatoesalad , @elltheawkward , @myunperfektstorys , @wnbweasley, @shespeaksinsongs , @africancracker , @broadwaybaby123, @stardustsymphony , @romantasyreader28, @chelawrites , @catching-fire-in-the-wind , @hecate-frenchfries

I had some problems with the tags, so if your name is purple I am so sorry

[herecirmsims]

Daddy's Girl

Happy birthday to @simmireen! She didn't ask for anything but I decided to become a problem and make her something anyway because she deserves... low quality poses?... wait that's not right, she deserves the world but I did the best I could. 🥲🤣 Some adult and infant poses inspired by the way baby Aimee has been helping Phil after his car accident in her story!!

Irene should need no introduction but she's been giving us FREE romantic poses for a long time now, and she's also maintaining the TS4-Poses archive which is INVALUABLE for us storytellers, so please show her some love today and every day ❤️

Note: I made these with the base game Simplicit-Ease armchair, and the poses may clip with others because unfortunately none of them have standard widths/arm heights. However! Once in game I realised that the baby is hidden by this chair once they're teleported in, so if you use it you will need to go into first person mode (select infant in the UI menu and hit shit+tab) in order to select and pose them. 🥲

Extra note: I don't often mention the CC in my promo pics because it would be a LOT, and I'm very WCIF-friendly so people can always ask for something specific... but I do want to acknowledge that @xandezsims are doing the lord's work by recolouring the PlazaSim's jerkin that Prince Malik is wearing here 🙏🙏 I use this outfit ALL the time and it's so nice to have different swatches for it!!

You will need: - Pose Player - Teleport Any Sim - Simplicit-Ease chair (or other armchair)

TOU: you may adjust for personal use to avoid clipping etc., but please do not reupload/paywall/claim as your own.

I’d love to see them used! You can tag me on Bluesky, Instagram, or Tumblr. I repost. ❤️

Download here (always free!): SFS | Patreon

You can easily browse more of my posepacks using my Ko-Fi gallery, or by browsing my collections on Patreon. Want to commission me and help support my work? Details here! Want to leave a suggestion for poses you'd like to see? Form here!

@ts4-poses @alwaysfreecc

[mysticalserenity-tarot]

🧸♡ what they like about you♡🧸 (Pick a pile)

{How to pick a pile? First, take a deep breath with your eyes closed to clear your mind. When you open your eyes, don't hesitate – pick the image that immediately grabs your attention or stirs up a memory. Remember, you can pick more than one pile if you feel called to. If none of the images stand out for you, it means there's no message for you at this time. You can always come back to it later.}

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡ ⋆⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡

Pile 1, Pile 2, Pile 3 (from left to right)

Hello, and a huge thank you to everyone for your incredible support! I'm so glad that my first Pac has been so well-received.

In this collective pick a pile reading, we'll delve into what your specific person likes and appreciates about you. You can consider this the continuation of my first Pac, if you prefer. Let's see where your energy takes us.

Disclaimer: This is a collective reading I picked up on multiple energies, so please only take what resonates and leave the rest. When something resonates you usually feel a light energy and in your heart you can feel it's your message, and the pic that attracts you is a clearly sign.

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡ ⋆⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡ ⋆

🧸PILE 1🧸

2 of Pentacles, the Hierophant, Page of Swords. (top: 4 of Pentacles)

Hi Pile 1, and welcome to your reading. Let's dive in!

This is a delightful and quircky energy. As multiple cards representing the number 2 kept coming out. Your person seems to want me to know that they love how you balance your light energy with your dark energy underlining the importance of this aspect in their mind, and they feel a connection because they share similar traits - from you previous reading, I sensed this affinity. This is either my spiritually inclined collective or those who resonate with a sense of inner peace and balance. If you've chosen this pile, bravo! You've made the right choice! [ it's okay if you're new, welcome <3 ]

I sense that many of you are in your prime years, and your person appreciates your vibrant youthful energy. Regardless of your age, they believe you'll fill a void and complete them, like a "missing puzzle piece", as I just heard. Many of you have a deep love for reading and acquiring knowledge, which may or may not be associated with formal education. I sense that you might prefer solitude, perhaps engrossed in your favorite book, while your classmates or colleagues (if in a work setting) are gathered discussing different things. Therefore, your person finds captivating the way you immerse yourself in your activities amidst the 'chaos' surrounding you. Some even observe and admire you from afar, potentially without your awareness. Your person finds you inspiring and loves how you handle problems with patience and diplomacy, without letting anger and stress take over. They also appreciate your thirst for knowledge and how you're curious about diverse topics. Your person values how secure you are in yourself and how you stand by your values and beliefs.

Overall, they are drawn to your mysterious yet serene, and intellectual nature, making you almost like an enigma to them. 🧙‍♂️✨

Thank you for allowing me to read your energy, Pile 1.

Note: -If you enjoyed this and my other readings, and you'd like to support me further, you can do so on my ko-fi, I'd greatly appreciate it. It's not mandatory.

-For further guidance or a personalized reading, feel free to book a reading through my Tumblr DM or email [dvinecrystl@gmail.com]. I'm here to help you navigate life's challenges and find clarity. We can decide the price together.

🧸PILE 2🧸

The Star, 9 of Swords, the Tower. (top: Ace of Swords)

Hi Pile 2, and welcome to your reading. Let's dive in!

Ah, Pile 2, based on the energy of the cards, your person has clear ideas about what they appreciate about you.

You possess strong manifesting skills and when you are certain about what you desire, you make it happen, I'm hearing the song "I Want It, I Got It" by Ariana Grande in my mind. For you, I have two cards confirming your innate manifesting power. You may have powerful water placements or inner planetary influences in your water houses (if you're not into astrology and don't know what i'm talking about, please feel free to ask). Some strong air energy is also sensed, whether it pertains to you or your person - one of you has great communication skills even. Your person finds it remarkable that you can create positive outcomes in adverse situations, emerging even stronger after initial doubts or negative emotions. This is not only temporary but a trait your person admires in you.

The energy here feels mature, likely older regardless of your age (old souls, perhaps?), indicating that some of you actually laugh in the face of adversity due to an innate ability to rise above struggles. Your determination draws your person's admiration; they struggle while you have clear goals and pursue them despite what others may think. You may receive sudden insights or instincts, unaware of their source, which are hints from the divine. Your person loves your strong will and determination, which they lack and need. This is one of the reasons they're attracted to you. I'm also sensing some popular individuals here, possibly on social media. Your determination, strength, and success have garnered success, with many followers and admirers, including your person. However, for those not yet successful, if you stick to your path and mindset, you'll reach your goals. Best of luck, my dears! 🍀🧿

Thank you for allowing me to read your energy, Pile 2.

Note: -If you enjoyed this and my other readings, and you'd like to support me further, you can do so on my ko-fi, I'd greatly appreciate it. It's not mandatory.

-For further guidance or a personalized reading, feel free to book a reading through my Tumblr DM or email [dvinecrystl@gmail.com]. I'm here to help you navigate life's challenges and find clarity. We can decide the price together.

🧸PILE 3🧸

Queen of Wands, The Sun, the Lovers. (top: Knight of Cups)

Hi Pile 3, and welcome to your reading. Let's dive in!

Wow, your cards are amazing, Pile 3! This person is head over heels in love with you, and the question is, what do they like about you? As I look at the cards as a whole, I'm feeling an intense passion surrounding you. They're burning with desire for you - sparks or flames, especially the color red may be significant (and for some a sign that is your pile!. Some of you may have worked or are working on your Root Chakra, which fuels this intense passion. I'm not supposed to do a spicy reading here but I'm feeling really hot lol. It's important to not a strong presence of two Major Arcana cards in a positive and powerful sequence, underlining this passionate hidden desire. Your person admires your overall positivity and passion for life, or specific interests. You may be a hopeless romantic, and they find this endearing. They perceive you as a powerful and passionate leader who remains unfazed by gossip about them and actually enjoys the attention.

It's intriguing that the Knight of Cups appeared on top of the deck in my previous pick up pile and has come up again here. You and your person may both be dreamy and romantic souls. In summary, your person appreciates your positivity, harmony, and artistic nature. You might be a creative individual, perhaps making unique art or being an enthusiast of it. They are fascinated by you and have vivid fantasies, like going to an art museum together.

I'm seeing blue stars on a blue neon ceiling in a potential art museum setting, which could be significant for some of you - and also the color blue. Now, very specific, maybe someone here has created a drawing or work with stars or blue stars on a blue background and shared it with their person and they're reminding me of it, or you or them work in a planetary museum? Take it how it resonates. Anyway, how cute! 💙

Thank you for allowing me to read your energy, Pile 3.

Note: -If you enjoyed this and my other readings, and you'd like to support me further, you can do so on my ko-fi, I'd greatly appreciate it. It's not mandatory.

-For further guidance or a personalized reading, feel free to book a reading through my Tumblr DM or email [dvinecrystl@gmail.com]. I'm here to help you navigate life's challenges and find clarity. We can decide the pricetogether.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ANY LIKE/REBLOG/COMMENT IS APPRECIATED, ALSO IF YOU LET ME KNOW IF IT RESONATED.

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK.

ALWAYS THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR EACH ONE OF YOU'S SUPPORT, I'M GRATEFUL 🤗🤍

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Please note that I used AI language bot to help improve grammar and spelling in my readings, as English is not my first language. However, the interpretations and insights provided in my readings are all my work, based on my intuition and the cards' symbolism.

Disclaimer: Tarot readings are for entertainment purposes only and are not meant to predict or dictate your future. The cards provide insights and guidance, but the ultimate power of choice lies with you.

[miumura]

━━━ NERD JAKE . . .

| nerd!jake headcanons >< |

pairing nerd!jake x gn!reader genre fluff

warnings none? word count 0.8k+ ( 844 words )

💬 — NERD JAKE BRAINROT the voices have spoken to me and told me to write this. guys you don’t understand how much i live for nerd!jake works … like i don’t know but they are just probably a guilty pleasure of mines 🤓 so you knowww i also had to do something about it !! enjoy <3

NERD JAKE who apologized a million times after bumping into you in the hallway, hurried to pick up your books instead of his scattered papers.

NERD JAKE who became rather flustered when you crouched down to help him, picking up his papers with an apology and a small "thank you” when he gave back the textbooks you dropped.

NERD JAKE who often takes a few glances at your work, purposefully lets you see his so you can correct your answers or ask him for help with anything specific.

NERD JAKE who easily tenses up when your arms touch, breathing sharply as you peek over his shoulder to compare his work with yours, his face turning a shade of pink as he tries to maintain his focus.

NERD JAKE who wears the biggest grin on his face while talking about topics he finds interesting, often uses hand movements to emphasize his words.

NERD JAKE who immediately turns off his phone after sending you a text message, gets overwhelmed with thoughts of whether he came off weirdly or said the wrong things, already considering unsending it.

NERD JAKE who always answers your text messages within the same minute, smiles to himself as you both talk about random things, often leading to late-night conversations.

NERD JAKE who offers to tutor you in the classes you're struggling with, is motivated mainly by the chance to spend more time with you — but also being able to help you too, of course.

NERD JAKE who loves your compliments and praises, is motivated to work even harder to impress you with his knowledge.

NERD JAKE who talks about how smart you are whenever he sees you frustrated with a problem, but often ends up rambling about how great he thinks you are, sometimes leading to his own embarrassment.

NERD JAKE who lets you sleep on his shoulder while he finishes the rest of your assignments.

NERD JAKE who always looks at you when the teacher explains there’s pair work, hoping you’d want to be his partner too.

NERD JAKE who listens to you attentively, making sure to remember to jot down your likes and dislikes later.

NERD JAKE who has a soft spot for you, unable to refuse anything you ask of him, even if it might get him into trouble.

NERD JAKE who keeps all the little notes you two passed around in class in a special box, often revisiting and rereading them whenever he misses you.

NERD JAKE who tries to focus on his studies, but his mind keeps drifting back to you, causing him to eventually plant his head on his desk, scattered with papers.

NERD JAKE who masks the things he does for you as friendly gestures to avoid feeling overwhelmed by the thought of potentially liking you, convincing himself it’s just being a good friend while his heart says otherwise.

NERD JAKE who can’t help but feel slightly jealous when you hang out with someone else, knows he can’t do anything about it and is left pouting.

NERD JAKE who comes up with random excuses whenever you ask to meet up, knows how much he wants to but can't let his feelings grow, especially after seeing you with another guy.

NERD JAKE who focuses on just admiring you from afar, doesn't want to take up too much of your time from your friends at school.

NERD JAKE who leaves an empty classroom with his face a red mess after you confront him about being distant and confess your feelings for him, his heart racing as he tries to process everything.

NERD JAKE who goes home and lies in bed thinking about the incident, replays the moment over and over in his mind before covering his head with his pillow and screaming into it in frustration and embarrassment.

NERD JAKE who stutters while trying to ask you out on a date, nervously fiddling his fingers as he waits for your answer.

NERD JAKE who spends so much time going through his closet trying to find the perfect outfit for the date, heavily debates whether he should wear one of his flannels.

NERD JAKE who gives himself pep talks, practicing to avoid fumbling his words and preparing enough conversation topics to ensure the date won't be awkward.

NERD JAKE who arrives at your house with a bouquet of flowers, complimenting your appearance with a gaze filled with admiration and nervous excitement.

NERD JAKE who spontaneously makes up jokes just to hear your laughter, cherishing the moments when he can bring a smile to your face.

NERD JAKE who completely loses his composure after you kiss him on the cheek, visibly flustered as he touches his face, wondering if he's actually dreaming.

NERD JAKE who walks you home, staying until he sees you safely enter your house before he heads off, a smile lingering on his face.

NERD JAKE who gathers all his courage to ask if he could be your boyfriend, his heart pounding with anticipation as he waits for your response, having poured his feelings into a website created just for this moment.

NERD JAKE who has been captivated by you since the moment you bumped into him, his thoughts fixated on you from the start.

💭 — should i make more works like these because these are lowkey fun to write 👀

enhypen perm taglist is open ; comment or send an ask !

ENHA PERM TAGLIST (1) — @flwoie @ixomiyu @haruavrse @shinsou-rii @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @ml8dy @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @hyeosi @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie @jwnghyuns @kpoplover718 @jiawji @rikizm @haknom @yeokii @wvnkoi @whoschr @teddywonss @shinunoga-iie-wa @isoobie @skzenhalove @misokei @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @miercerise @litttlestars @enhapocketz

[thealtoduck]

Being the Son of Calliope, headcanons…

PJO x Male Reader (No romantic pairing)

Warnings: None…

Summary: You’re the son of the goddesss of epic poetry and eloquence and One of the Nine Muses…

(A/n: I know I was meant to work on other stuff but I got distracted.)

(Song is unrelated to the story but it felt Muses coded so…)

——

You were the only half-blood at camp related to one of the Muses, specifically Calliope, the Goddesss of Epic Poetry and Eloquence.

When you had gotten to camp you used to stay in Cabin 11, even though you’d been claimed, there was no cabin for you. So you ended up bunking with Travis Stoll.

But after the war with the titans and Percy’s demands to Zeus to the gods, a cabin dedicated to the Nine Muses had been built.

You being made the counsler… not that there were any other options…

The cabin was great tho, it was decorated with statues and carvings of the muses and their symbols. There were paintings hung of their famous demigods too such as Orpheus, Hyacinthus and Linus

The cabin had a big book case with novels, plays, comedies, tradgedies, poetry. A soundproof dance studio, a soundproof music room with a bunch of instruments, a sky window to study the stars.

Basically everything associated with the Muses.

——

If you had a nickel for everytime someone had tried to pick you by saying ”you were their muse” or that ”you had inspired” the poem, song or novel they wrote… you’d be richer than Hades.

You were particullarly popular amongst the Apollo cabin who seemed to think you were some kind of key to overcome creative blocks. Will Solace, their counselor, needed to keep them in check since they all seemed interested in you in one way or the other.

Athena’s and Hephaestus’s cabins were also drawn to you for your creativety.

——

You would however end up being paired with the Apollo cabin to lead the campfire sing-alongs, you usually end up with a solo song telling the dramatic story of some greek hero.

Imagine something like ”The Gosphel Truth” from ”Hercules”, with the Apollo cabin acting as you back up singers.

——

As for your powers, you were far from the strongest of demigods, but you were by no means weak.

You had a natrual talent for the arts, singing, dancing, poetry, instruments, etc…

As the son of the goddess of Eloquence you could cast minor short lasting curses on people that would effect their speaking, that could for example cause them to only speak in rhymes and limericks or make them unable to finish long sentences before drifting off.

Your swordfighting style would be noted by the other campers to be quite different, while they fought normally with their swords, Percy described your style more as a ”VERY deadly and sharp dance”.

Being related to the muses you also had an aura that could induce inspiration and creativity in someone (so maybe the Apollo cabin was on to something with their interest in you).

Though that power worked both ways as you could also curse someone with creative block.

——

Unlike most demigods, you’re mother showed up quite often to advice you whenever you had a problem… and she didn’t come alone.

Let’s say you’re in your cabin and you’re sad after having an argument with a friend.

Well… then all the 9 statues of the Muses in the cabin come to life and start singing a pop-soul number about why friendship is important and you should make up with your friend.

It’s was quite terrifying the first few times it happened but you get used to it after a while.

Being one of the Muse’s son is pretty much like being all of their son.

(A/n 2: Sorry, this is shorter than i usually write and is more so a collection of small headcanons for a Son of Calliope!Reader than a full on fic.)

[languid-bones]

Murderbot 3D Print Part 3 - FILES!!!

It's what many of you have been waiting for! THE 3D FILES!

The price??? It's free!

That's a lie, the price is actually that you send me pictures of the results so I can have the joy of seeing what you all make. (I mean it, this is a threat)

Based on comments so far, it seems like this will be the first dive into 3D printing and figure painting for some people so I'll go through some of my approach to give you an idea of how I got to this result.

This is actually my first time sculpting, printing and then painting something to completion, so I am not experienced and you can totally do it too. As you may see from my blog I am primarily a digital artist and I occasionally do gouache and ink work, I have literally never painted or sculpted a figure before. (This counts as foreshadowing if you run into any problems with my files lmao)

Sculpting:

I sculpted the model in Nomad Sculpt on my Ipad and tidied things up in blender. I am still a massive beginner with sculpting so I incorporated pieces from some other freely available models to assist me (these are credited in the listing with the model). You don't have to worry about this part!

Printing:

I printed this on my MARS ELEGOO 2 printer. The settings I used for my print are included on the model listing; with these settings the model took about 7.5 hours to print.

The Files

I have uploaded 3 different file formats, a .stl, a .chitubox and a .ctb. An stl is the basic 3D model on its own, it can be opened in most 3D software if you are looking to edit it and it can be imported into any slicing software (slicing is the process of cutting any model into layers for the printer). If you use this file you will have to add the supports to the model yourself (supports are very important in preventing catastrophic print failure).

The .chitubox and .ctb files are specifically from the slicing program I use which is chitubox. The .chitubox program is for the model with the supports for printing attached and the .ctb file is the sliced file that is ready for the printer. VERY IMPORTANT TO NOTE is that these two files are sized and prepared based on my 3D printer dimensions. If you want to use these files, I recommend checking either files in chitubox (and have it set up for the model printer you will be using) and checking the size before going ahead with printing. If the size is too big for your printer you will have to resize the model and add the supports again but you can use the files I have supplied as reference.

I specifically used Chitubox 64 for this as Chitubox basic hates me and won't slice the model so it is solid inside. Printing something solid is easier to print than printing it hollow and trying to cure the resin trapped inside/drain the model (uncured resin is nasty nasty and will also generate gas that builds up pressure and will crack your print).

I recommend using either the basic stl for printing or starting with the .chitubox file and setting up the slicing settings by yourself. The ctb is a good reference for how things should look but probably not the best starting point to guarantee a successful print. If you add supports yourself, I recommend looking up some youtube videos on how to properly support a model, and what parts of a model need the most support and avoiding visible marks on your models from supports.

Post-Printing

Its important to clean and cure your print properly after its done, but if you are getting it done at the library or somewhere else you may not have to worry about this.

To remove the supports I used a heat gun to warm and soften the resin supports and little clippers my friends use for gundam to cut them as flush to the model as possible.

The next thing you want to do is sanding, sand down the marks from the supports, any lines or imperfections from the printing. Resin is relatively soft so this is not hard. I personally bought some cheap sandpaper that went from 400-1000 grit, glued it to icecream sticks, disposable knives and some flat toothpick things and used that to get into small crevices. Sand with wet paper to prevent resin dust going everywhere.

Painting

After sanding I sprayed the model with a primer, I specifically used Mr. Finishing Surfacer 1500 in white. This was my choice simply because its what my local gundam store had and I chose white because I didn't want to use a darker base coat that I had to lighten for the armor (simply put most of the model is white and white is a pain in the ass to paint opaquely)

After this I went in with my standard run-of-the-mill acrylic paints. The key to getting a smooth finish with no brush marks and lumps is to thin/smooth out the paint a little with water and build up the colour in layers.

I painted my base colours (white for the armor, black for the shoes and visor and a dark grey for the suit underneath the armor). To get a cool beaten-up effect I laid some light blue into areas on the armor where shadows would fall, after that I dabbed panel line accent colour which gets into the crevices and lines of the print and accents them (you can also just use really watered down black paint for this, I was lucky to borrow supplies from a warhammer 40k friend). I also covered parts of the armor with it and rubbed it off for a grimy effect and then dabbed some brown paint in for extra colour variation. I then came in and dry-brushed some lighter colours on the dark areas and fixed up the white where I wanted it brighter.

Then finally I coated the whole thing in a matte varnish to protect it and it was done!! My own Murderbot completed!!

Hopefully if you haven't done something like this before, this helps you get started There are dozens and dozens of great tutorials out there for more info or if you want to take your design in a different direction to mine.

Most importantly?? Have fun!!

If you have any issues or questions feel free to message me and we can work on it together!

[cherryblooom]

2XL — OP81 [ part 2 ]

Summary: You are a young artist who gained a lot of popularity at the ripped age of 14 due to your talent and unusual style. Your body is considered "voluminous" so, in public, you only use 2XL clothing, to protect yourself from people on the internet and feel more comfortable while performing. You have managed to keep your personal life outside the spotlight but when Oscar finally made it to the glamorous lifestyle of motorsports, everything changed.

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Reader

navigation series masterlist

Fic warning: best friends to lovers, kinda slow burn, slut shaming, weird people on the internet, people commenting about a minor's body, panic attack, body image, reader battles with her self-esteem, self-image, and self-love, Oscar is obsessed with his girlfriend and her body (not in a creepy way) and is not afraid of showing it, I hate Karly and will too lol

Faceclaim: Billie Eilish

Note: Oscar is a year older than the reader. SMAU mixed with narrative. Reader doesn't have that much access to social media right now as they are mostly controlled by their management. Some K-pop artist will show up 'cause why not? lol

You knew you were tearing apart your suitcase, crumpling everything in your path, even a dark blue dress your mother bought in hopes you would wear, but you threw it on the floor without any concern. That dress was the least of your problems now.

“Please, please, come on… there must be another one. Where is it?” At that moment, you were almost on the verge of a panic attack, and not being able to control it anymore, you felt the tears start to come.

You had your manager on your heels, people on social media looking for the tiniest detail to take you down, a whole crew ready to film the entire event to interview you afterwards, and on top of that you were on day two of your period, in pain that you could only describe as hell itself – could it get any worse? Oh, of course it can be worse. You’re a teenager, which means your body is constantly changing. You had to be on stage in about 30 minutes and you had no underwear, or to be more specific, all the bras you had in your suitcase didn’t fit. It’s not a secret that your breasts were one of your most striking attributes (and you try to hide them as much as you can) and you swore that they were getting bigger every day. With each passing day, you began to hate your body. The bras you have now were too small for you and even if you tried to put them on, all you could feel was the underwires digging into your sensitive bust and you couldn’t even think about walking or jumping.

''Yn, what are you doing on the floor?'' Karly, your manager for 2 years, entered the room. ''And you're not even ready! Come on, it's almost 7:00 p.m. and the show is about to start.''

''I can't. I-I don't know what happened, but none of my bras fit and they're so uncomfortable. I'm on my period and I think my breasts have grown and…''

''And what do you want me to do? Honey, I don't have another bra you can wear, at least not in your size. But why did you pack them if you knew they wouldn't fit?''

''I didn't pack them! I was going to, and you told me we didn't have time, and you'd bring me my suitcase later, and now none of them fit.''

''Look, how about you try wearing one and practice here?'' your manager said, and you heard an edge to her voice. She was upset, and it only made you feel smaller, like this was all your fault.

“I tried! I tried wearing one but it doesn’t work. I can’t even breathe without the wires digging into my bust and it just hurts,” you cried. You were upset and frustrated. This day should have been special because of the big show that awaited you outside, but it was turning into a nightmare.

''Oh my god. Yn, what do you want me to do? What can I do? Should I go out and tell your fans and the filming crew that we need to cancel the show because your bra doesn't fit you? You wouldn't want that, would you?'' she said, and you felt like crying more. She knelt down in front of you and held your hands as she rubbed her thumb against your skin. ''Honey, I know it's not easy, but we can't turn back now and even if we could, we'd have to tell everyone the reason for the cancellation and you wouldn't want that, right? Imagine the headlines'' You shook your head. No, you didn't want that. You don't want to disappoint your fans and give the media another reason to hate you and tear you apart.

—That’s what I thought. I know it’s hard, but just try, okay? I’ll have to double-check something with the film crew. Stay here and I’ll come get you when it’s time for you to go on stage.'' That was the last thing she said before leaving you alone.

You tried again with a black bra, the largest one in the suitcase, and began to practice one of your songs, but with each breath the wires sank even further.

"Fuck, damn it!"

Officially, you were panicking. There were about 25 minutes left, and you had no idea what the hell to do, at this point you couldn't even breathe, you were starting to choke, and your vision was blurry from tears.

The first thing Oscar heard when the call connected was your crying on the other end of the line and his heart broke into pieces. He didn't like hearing you like that.

''Honey, I need you to take a deep breath. Just close your eyes and breathe. Don't worry about anything but breathing.''

''I c-can't. I can't breathe and my chest hurts, and Karly is coming for me in 20 minutes and…''

''I know it's difficult, but honey, I need you to close your eyes and breathe. I don't want you to think about anything but breathing. I'll be there for you very soon, I promise.''

''No, no, please don't hang up, please…''

''No, my love, I will never do that. I want you to put your head between your knees, take a deep breath, and I need you to hold it for 3 seconds before you let it go, okay? Can you do that for me, pumpkin?

There were a few moments of silence where Oscar was worried, but when he heard you take deep breaths as he had instructed and your crying faded, he calmed down. It wasn't very common for you to have panic attacks, but that means it must be something very serious for you to have one.

''That's it. You're doing great, babygirl. Are your hands still shaking?''

''N-no''

''Perfect. I'm so proud of you, doll, you did amazing. Now please, tell me what happened?'' Oscar asked and after answering him, he couldn't help but feel the rage forming in his chest. He never liked Karly and, if it was up to him, she would have been fired months ago. ''Oh, baby, that's horrible and no, it's not your fault and you're not throwing a tantrum. You shouldn't go on stage if you're not feeling well and Karly is the one who should take care of things like that, but she didn't. It's not your fault. Don't worry, I'll fix it, okay? I promise.''

''But, how-...?''

''Just to trust me. My mom will be there with you in about 5 minutes, okay? And I'll arrive before you have to go on stage. Leave that to me. You trust me?''

''I do, I trust you''

dailyop81 just posted

liked by dailyoscarpiastri, ynfan4 and 2,768 others.

dailyop81 Oscar was seen today leaving a Victoria Secret's store afer he went to a Dior one, all of this before attending YN LN's concert. For whom do you think these gifts are for?

view ll 1,783 comments

DailyMusic just posted

twicetgram just posted

liked by ynusername, oscarpiastri, dailyyn, bts.bighitofficial and 250,876 others

twicetagram so proud of you girlyy! @ ynusername

view all 230,848 comments

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

Radio Check: Part 2! I'm really excited how this story is turning out; I hope you guys are loving it as much I am.

For the news, I tried to make it like a real blog, let me know if you like it or if you would like me to keep doing it that way!

Tagged list: @xivilivix @multifan-idk @newlifeforus @diorbrxtz @vroomvroomcircuit

If you want to be tagged, just let me know and reblog if you liked it!

[neos127]

sim jaeyun x fem!reader | you’re the spider-man…?

genre. spider-man!jake, fluff + established relationship cw. none! notes. my entry for my own event! decided to reimagine that scene between ned and peter from spider-man homecoming!

you and jake had spent hours building a lego empire state building. it was jake’s gift to you, knowing how much you enjoyed legos. he had saved up his allowance, keeping it a secret until your birthday came around. you felt bad at first, knowing how much the set was. but jake was sweet as ever and assured you that he didn’t mind. he had been saving up for your gift specifically.

he couldn’t help you finish building it, explaining how he had to attend his internship after school. you were a bit disappointed at first but then decided to go to his apartment with the finished product and wait for him to return. his aunt loved you, allowing you to wait in his room only after she invited you to stay for dinner.

you sat on jake’s bed, the large lego structure sitting in your lap when his window suddenly opened. you tensed up, your blood running cold as someone climbed in and softly closed the window. the first thing you noticed was how their feet didn’t touch the ground, the person was crawling along jake’s ceiling.

and the second thing— the person was spider-man. fucking spider-man was crawling along your boyfriend’s ceiling and you weren’t sure how to react.

spider-man didn’t seem to notice your sitting figure on the bed as he softly closed his bedroom door, shutting his room away from the prying eyes of his aunt. once spider-man thought the coast was clear, he hung down from the ceiling before slipping his mask off.

as soon as he turned around, you gasped— the lego structure tumbling to the ground when you stood up. you didn’t even bat an eye, too busy trying to process the fact that you had been lied to for months.

“are you okay?” jake’s aunt asked from outside the door.

“um-yeah! i’m fine, just tripped.” you replied, your heart beating extremely fast as you waited for her to walk off. as soon as the sound of her footsteps got lighter, you finally felt as if you could breathe.

“jake…jake— oh my gosh.” you could barley talk, tripping over your own words as you began to pace back and forth in his room. jake looked just as panicked as you did, his chest rising up and down rapidly and his eyes wide.

“i’m uh, i’m not spider-man.” jake made up some lame excuse. he began to quickly take off his suit, as if he were trying to hide it despite you witnessing him in all his glory already.

“you were on the ceiling!” you practically yelled, disbelief in your tone.

“no i wasn…what are you doing in my room?” jake growled, feeling a bit overwhelmed now that his girlfriend knew his secret identity.

“don’t you dare try to gaslight me right now, jaeyun. what the fuck is your problem? how dare you keep this from me?” you hissed, lightly shoving his bare chest when he tried to get closer to you.

“y/n— i’m really sorry.” he sighed, quickly pulling on an oversized sweater he had lying on the floor. you let out a low whine before sitting back on his bed, once again ignoring the mess of legos on the small rug.

jake sat down next to you, keeping a reasonable distance since he could see how upset you were at him.

“why didn’t you tell me?” you asked after about a minute, finally turning to look at jake. the boy sighed, running a hand through his hair as he carefully thought of what to say.

“i just…i was scared, alright? one day i was bitten by a spider and then the next i was handed these crazy powers that i didn’t know how to handle. and when i became spider-man, it just brought along a whole bunch of people who wanted to hurt me and anyone close to me. if they tried to use you to get to me, i’d never forgive myself. i wanted to keep you safe because i love you, even if i seemed like a shitty boyfriend.” jake explained, looking away from your intense gaze. despite the initial anxiety he felt, explaining his thought process to you felt as if a wet blanket had been lifted off his shoulders.

“jake, i just wish you would’ve talked to me. i get that you wanted to keep me safe, but i hate the fact that you had to go through this alone.” you replied, a small frown on your face.

“i know. im so sorry, y/n. i wanted you to know, there were times where i almost did tell you. i hope you’re not too mad at me.” jake said, his head hanging low as he waited for a response. you let out a deep sigh before moving closer to jake and pulling his body into yours. the boy immediately melted into your touch.

“i’m not mad at you. i was only disappointed but i understand now. i love you, jake, and this doesn’t change anything. it will take me a while to process the fact that my boyfriend is a legit superhero but…i guess it’s kind of cool.” you explained, moving your hand up to jake’s hair to play with it. the boy sighed against your chest, a small smile breaking out onto his face.

“thanks for understanding, y/n. i love you a lot.” jake lifted his head from your body, looking you in the eyes. his face, expressive as ever, showed sincerity. he was grateful to have you and even though you knowing his secret made him a bit nervous, jake felt relieved that a big part of his life didn’t have to be so hidden anymore.

“i love you too— and please remember how much you love me before you see the mess on the floor.” you replied quickly, your words coming out rushed. jake’s head whipped towards the carpet, a gasp leaving his mouth as he observed the small pieces all over his carpet.

“y/n! what did you do?”

taglist; @boyfhee @junityy @aenify @iilwji @catzisb1og @greentulip @starantulas @jakesangel @heeblurs

— i love writing spider-man!jake !!

[poorly-written-fiction]

talking in your sleep || logan howlett x reader

part 2 for anyone interested

A/N: hello i threw something together very quickly inspired by "talking in your sleep" by the romantics! also reader is gender neutral (i'm pretty sure i was good to not use any gendered language??? one mention of they/them pronouns) no use of Y/N or any specific descriptions of you, the reader, aside from logan being taller than you. unrelated to this fic, but "replay" is continuing and i am already working on my next long fic after it is done! next chapter of "replay" goes live tomorrow.

summary: you make it a point to not interact with logan, but he finds an interesting excuse to talk to you.

notes: somewhat suggestive themes, proceed with caution

No one could understand what your problem was with Logan. He’d walk into a room, and if you weren’t immediately turning on your heels and leaving, you suddenly became a brick wall. You would watch him, tracking his every move. He’d notice you watching him, and you’d roll your eyes and turn away. Everyone knew he wasn’t easy to get along with, but the way that you would change the moment he was in the same vicinity, it seemed like he had murdered your family. Your friends would ask “have you talked to him?” and you’d reply with a very short, sharp “no.” Everyone at the mansion was stumped, what was it about Logan that bugged you? Scott had asked Jean if she would get into your head and check, to which she’d reply, “And risk them treating me the same way? Absolutely not.” They didn’t dare to ask Charles if he would do the same. He wouldn’t, simply out of respect for your privacy. It was a mystery to everyone, but it didn’t bother anyone more than Logan himself. He would never admit it, but he was genuinely concerned that he had hurt you in some way and wasn’t aware of it. He even knew he was a dick, even on a good day, but he had no real reason to dislike you directly. You iced him out first, and he gave up trying to fix anything after you would constantly shut him down. The closest he could get to you was that his bedroom was right next to yours.

Your sleep schedules were drastically different, you often fell asleep before he did. Based on how closely he could hear your breathing when you slept, he could only imagine that your bed and his shared a wall. He didn’t actively listen to you, but he couldn’t help that he had heightened senses. He could hear you turning over in your sleep, occasionally groaning or mumbling. He had learned pretty early that you tended to talk in your sleep. Never anything super coherent or interesting. Usually only a few words, or a sentence that didn’t make any sense. Occasionally he’d hear you say something funny and he’d chuckle to himself. He silently wished he could have a real conversation with you. He had heard that you were easy to talk to. What had he done to make you push him away? 

One night, Logan was sitting in his bed, reading a book and sipping on some whiskey. He didn’t always spend his evenings like this, but occasionally he would indulge himself in some peace. Stop thinking about the world and all of its problems, and let himself enjoy life’s simple pleasures. He was working his way through “And Then There Were None” by Agatha Christie when he heard you stirring in your sleep. He paid the sound no mind until he heard something familiar.

“Logan…”

He perked up immediately, setting his book and glass down on his bedside table. He sat in complete silence, his breathing slow and quiet waiting to see if he could hear it again.

“I want you, Logan…”

He practically jumped out of his bed. What were you dreaming about? Him, obviously, but what was going through that head of yours? He was dying to know. He hoped that you thought better of him in your sleep. There was the sound of shifting and rolling over in your bed, and then the stillness and quiet again. Your breathing still sounded like you were asleep, otherwise, he would have gone and knocked on your door. He thought about it for a moment, confronting you at your bedroom door tomorrow morning.

The idea became reality. Logan could hear you going about your morning routine, and he did the same, taking extra care to make himself look a little nicer than usual. He wanted answers out of you, and he wanted to look good doing it. He heard you walking towards your bedroom door, and he practically ran into the hallway, leaning over your doorway as you were walking out. You gasped immediately when you saw him towering over you.

“Good morning, how did you sleep?” You were at a loss for words, completely taken aback by the situation. Logan smiled, “Did you have any nice dreams?” With those words, heat was rushing from your chest and rising into your neck and face. He had you caught.

[jaggedamethyst]

when matt murdock has allergies…

pairing: matt murdock x reader (not gender specific in this one)

content: matt has allergies and has to tackle every day life without his senses. one shot, angst (i guess)

notes: this is my first official post (omg?) it may not be great, but i hope to get better as i post more. this one is a bit dramatic but i mostly read angst to feel something so it had to be done. 💋 also i have sinus issues and cannot function so he’s a direct representation of me ty. 🥹

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Matt has allergies. He figured that on top of balancing his firm, relationships, and his night time activities, that telling people he had the occasional sniffle was just juvenile.

Trivial, meaningless, and stupid. Whatever negative adjective he could muster up wasn’t enough to describe how pointless it felt to explain himself to everyone he came in contact with.

Having become reliant on other senses to become his sight, the “occasional sniffle” was anything short of minor. As mucus filled his sinuses and blocked his ears—sound became substantially more quiet. Distance was hard to measure. The inevitable fatigue he felt increased all sensations Matt felt—skewing his perception of the everyday item. Usually perfectly tempered coffee now left blisters on his tongue. His soft bed sheets feeling like sandpaper. His nose constantly swollen and red with the many smells of New York streets. His respiratory problems became eras of overcompensation—using one sense here, another there, and none working.

He was always willing to put in the work, to compensate, until it came to you. An immediate wave of defeat washed over him when he couldn’t sense you.

You with an amazing smile he loved to illicit.

You with a laugh so sweet he could almost taste the hint of saccharine.

You with the soft skin, riddled with divots and creases he’d long committed to memory.

When Matt couldn’t sense you, couldn’t compensate and make you smile, hear you laugh, or feel your skin…he wasn’t himself. It seemed counterintuitive to give up, when in all other areas he’d worked so hard to keep up. But with you, the current came. Tides of disappointment and anger continued to sink him further.

When you eventually arrived to his apartment, Matt remained motionless. You both knew that was unlike himself.

It was easy to let your empathy wash over you, to let the tears come knowing someone you love is suffering. But to let that feeling grasp you was to drown, and what good is that to someone already fighting the tides?

You quickly sprang into action, looking for the medication you knew worked best for him. He didn’t take it yet, you knew. Matt was in self destruct mode.

As you softly approached the couch, hand outstretched, his lack of reaction struck you. To Matt, the cushion beside him dipped, the filling scratching at his ear drums like the incessant rats that ran the street. Your hands, enveloping his cheeks with an otherwise soothing touch, felt like two ice packs—endlessly cold from the harsh weather outside.

The chill traveled to his own hands. Then, a slight sensation he could only assume was an affirming squeeze. The frost of your hands subsequently moving up to his mouth, giving him something. He couldn’t care enough to resist if he wanted.

Matt let the idea of you be his Moon—controlling his ocean of emotion and pulling the tides back slightly. Hearing you continue to mumble to him was a tranquility that saved him time and time again.

Matthew couldn’t hear you, but he knew that everything would be alright. The bliss of rest quickly approach and with it, a prayer to God that he would be reunited with his love again.

[hvnlygrl]

Hey girl! I wanted to send in a Rafe request for the angst prompt #7: accidentally/drunkenly confessing feelings and yes it’s for the celebration! But it’s Rafe that confesses his feelings for the reader even though she’s a pogue but he’s always had a soft spot for her🤍

⌞ DRUNKEN CONFESSION ⌝

જ⁀➴ pairing | rafe cameron x pogue!fem!reader

જ⁀➴ word count | 0.7k

જ⁀➴ synopsis | rafe gets drunk and starts spilling the beans on his love for you.

જ⁀➴ notes | hi babe! i love this sm he would be such a doofus honestly.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

you watched rafe down shot after shot, part of you feeling a little concerned for his well being for the rest of the night, and the other part of you just wanting to focus on your friends and mind your business.

but rafe was your friend too, you reminded yourself. you’d grown a soft spot for the kook after a party one night, one very similar to this one, in fact. jj loved to tease you and say that the feelings you harbored were much more than platonic, and you constantly denied his statement. but you knew he was right.

you also knew, however, that rafe cameron would never be caught dead dating a pogue. so any and all thoughts and feelings that were more than platonic for rafe got locked away to protect your own well being. the last thing you needed was the boys getting on your ass for being in love with a kook, or for topper and kelce to antagonize you for being a nasty pogue that nobody, especially rafe, would ever love.

and yet here you were, stuffing him into the passenger seat of your car because he’d had far too many to drink.

“how you feelin’ buddy?” you hum softly, your voice sounding like music to rafe’s ears. “let me know if you wanna throw up, okay?”

he just groaned in response, your words nearly triggering his gag response. “drive slow,” he keeps his eyes closed tightly as he takes deep breaths.

“you got it,” you huff through a laugh, driving as safely and steadily as you could while you brought him back to your house. you knew ward would flip his shit if rafe got brought home by a pogue while drunk like that and you wanted to protect him from that shitshow as much as possible.

by the time you got him to your house, he sighed desperately as he crawled into your bed, trashcan ready by his side. “y/n?” he called out, eyes trying to steady themselves to look at you.

“what’s up?” you call back with a sweet smile on your face, having absolutely no problem taking care of him in this vulnerable state. honestly, you felt honored that he trusted and asked for you specifically.

“i love you,” his voice is shaky and you almost don’t hear him with how quietly he says it.

you’re sure he doesn’t mean it in the way you want him too, so you brush him off with a soft laugh and allow your hand to rub his back soothingly. “love you too, rafe.”

“no,” he groans as he rolls to face you better, “i love you. like i know i shouldn’t cause you’re a pogue or whatever the fuck, but i love you and i can't stop thinking about you when i'm not with you. i want us to be more than this.”

you blink at him in shock, your face clad in an expression he’s unable to read that nearly sends him face first into the trashcan. he’s almost positive he ruined everything.

“are you being serious right now, rafe?”

“yes, i’m sick of walking on eggshells, i just-“ he sighs deeply, “i can't even look at other girls anymore because none of them are you.”

“i love you too, rafe,” you could cry at the confession, eyes watering and hands trembling, “i have for a while now. i just didn’t think you would feel the same way.”

“you really couldn’t tell?” he raises a brow at you.

“i guess i was in denial,” you shrug with a breathy laugh. “what do we do now?”

“well, i guess now i ask you to be my girlfriend,” rafe smiles at you, his cheeks flushed and his eyes glossy from the alcohol.

“you sure you don’t wanna wait until you’re not drunk anymore?”

“i won’t regret it, i promise,” he holds a pinky out to you, gesturing for you to hook yours with his.

you do, and he brings it up to his lips, kissing it gently.

“y/n l/n, will you be my girlfriend?”

“rafe cameron, i absolutely will.”

he sits up slowly as to not upset his stomach, and kisses you gently, one hand cupping the side of your face as the other one steadies him. he pulls away just enough to whisper, “thank you for taking care of me.”

“i always will,” you peck his lips before checking the time. “you hungry ? some places are still open, i could run and grab you something.”

“god, you’re an angel, woman.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

hvnlygrl 2025 ©️