#pretty quirky and cool right?

[clowndensation]

like it really is enough to make someone feel crazy. you have a character who wants to be seen and respected and valued as a person with her own thoughts and feelings and ideas, but she can't be any of those things, because she's not a person, she's a woman. and women exist to serve, not to live.

and so the only way to receive the acknowledgment and respect of her peers is to chase after a power she doesn't understand, enjoy, or necessarily even want, because at least if she suffers on the throne, she's suffering as a person, not as a mother to a son, a wife to a husband, or a daughter to a father.

like the entire show is a series of events featuring two women who aren't happy, attempting to win a game that doesn't care about them, in the vain hope that one day when they open their mouths, people will actually listen and care for what they have to say. and after all that grasping and pain and suffering and humiliation, it doesn't even work. because they're women.

[stars-inthe-sky]

G & M for the fandom ask meme! 💜

G - Have you ever had an OTP? If so, do you remember your first one? Who was in it?

Ever so many! Early entrants before I knew fandom was a thing would probably have included Jo/Friedrich (Little Women), Han/Leia (Star Wars), and Alanna of Trebond/Liam Ironarm (Tortall books), although I came around on George pretty handily by the time I finished Lioness Rampant. Ron/Hermione was the first pairing I ever read fic for, though!

M - Name a character that you’d like to have for a friend.

Amy Santiago

[cece693]

UNKILLABLE

pairing: michael myers x male reader synopsis: You were unique—not in the quirky sense because that was just cringe—but you were unkillable. Ask the boogeyman himself if you don't believe it. After multiple attempts at ending your life, you came back and continued 'haunting' his ass. You found the whole situation amusing and not so secretly flirted with the boogeyman himself.

He’s stabbed you. Shot you. Set you on fire once, just to see if your scream would be real this time. It wasn’t. You just laughed—sprawled in the ashes, face blackened with soot, and gave him a wink through scorched lashes.

“Still no dice, Mikey. Getting warmer, though.”

Michael Myers doesn’t speak. Everyone knows that. But if he did, you’re pretty sure by now, he’d be screaming. You’ve been following him for years—immortal, untouchable, and, according to Laurie Strode, “insane in an entirely new way.” But how could you not be intrigued? The man was death itself: silent, brutal, unyielding.

And you were the one thing he couldn’t end.

That pissed him off. You could tell.

Tonight was no different.

He slammed you against a blood-slicked wall in an abandoned farmhouse, the glint of his butcher knife flashing in the broken moonlight. You didn’t resist. You never did. His hand gripped your throat like a vice. You smiled.

“Hey, gorgeous.”

He drove the blade straight into your chest—your sternum cracked like dry wood, lungs collapsing. You coughed, giggled, then licked the corner of your mouth.

“God, you’re strong. That almost felt like something.”

He yanked the knife free. Blood painted your shirt. You kept smiling and reached up—slow, languid—and brushed your fingers along his coverall sleeve. He didn’t flinch. He never flinched. But you felt it: a shift in tension, a pause that stretched into something curious.

You leaned closer and pressed a kiss to the cool rubber cheek of his mask. It didn’t feel like much—but the act did. “I think you like me,” you whispered into his silence.

The next second, you were on the floor, knife back in your gut, boot pressing on your neck. “Okay, okay, mixed signals. I get it.” You grinned through your teeth. “But you know what’s funny, Michael?”

He didn’t respond. Of course not. “I’m the only one who doesn’t scream when you come near. I don’t run. And no matter what you do, I’m still here.”

Your body convulsed once. He waited. You went limp. And then—pop—your eyes opened. “Boo.” You stood up with a dramatic groan, plucked the knife from your ribs with a squelch, and handed it back hilt-first. “Here. You dropped this.”

His fingers curled around it.

You leaned in again, your lips brushing the edge of the mask near where his ear would be. “You’re obsessed with killing. I’m obsessed with you. That makes us soulmates, right?”

Michael raised the blade and hesitated. You didn’t. You touched his chest this time, palm flat. Right over his heart.

It was beating.

Slow.

Steady.

And just a little too fast.

You smirked. “Admit it, Mikey. You’ve tried to kill me every way you can think of, and I still make it back in time for dessert. Maybe deep down, you like having someone you can’t break.”

No response. Just breathing. Slow, audible. Heavy through the mask. Then—his gloved hand snapped out. But it didn’t wrap around your throat this time. It curled behind your neck.

And pulled you forward.

Your lips grazed the cold cheek of his mask again—closer, firmer. Almost a kiss.

Almost.

Then he shoved you away, turned, and vanished into the dark like he always did. But you were laughing. You wiped blood off your chin, face split in a grin as wide as a crescent moon. “See you soon, sweetheart.”

[vibelladonna]

✑ 𝓁𝓊𝓈𝒸𝒾𝑜𝓊𝓈 𝜗𝜚 𝓉𝓀𝒶𝓉𝒷 𝓂𝑒𝓃

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: The TKATB men are so into people of all sizes, and honestly, it’s kinda refreshing to think about how each of them would be low-key obsessed with their partner’s body, but in a way that totally fits their vibe. Like, I can so see it—each of them having their own quirky, unique way of being all about it...

But in their weird, lovable ways ! !

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's intentions. 

Honestly, it’s just too cute how they’d love and appreciate their partner no matter what! But ngl, I was a little nervous writing and posting this because, like, I kinda have body issues myself, and this is such a touchy topic. I honestly have no idea how my dearest readers are gonna feel about it, so just consider this your warning!

[ 𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ]

✑ 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒

Crow’s the type to compare you to the stars and gods before you even get a chance to complain.

You shuffled around your room, digging through your clothes for something cute but effortless.

You and Crowe didn’t need a reason to go out—any excuse to be together worked. Tonight, it was just a quiet evening under the stars, the kind of night that made the world feel a little more intimate, where it was just the two of you, no pressure.

Truth be told, the date was more of an excuse to hang out, but with Crowe around, even the simplest plans felt like an adventure—whether it was a quiet walk in the park or something a little more exciting.

Crowe leaned against the doorframe, arms casually crossed, his eyes following every movement you made as you sifted through your wardrobe. He had this look on his face—a quiet admiration, the kind that made your pulse quicken and your cheeks flush, even after all this time. Like there was something about the way he looked at you, like you were the most captivating thing in the room, and it made everything inside you feel just a little bit lighter.

"Hey," Crowe’s voice broke through your thoughts, smooth and warm, the kind that made your heart skip a beat. "You look absolutely stunning today."

You glanced over your shoulder, raising an eyebrow with an amused grin. "Crowe, I’ve been wearing this all day. Are you seriously still going to compliment me like I’m some cover model?"

His smile widened, that mischievous gleam never leaving his deep blue eyes. "Well, if you were in a magazine, it’d be the one everyone’s been dying to read. Trust me, dearest, you always look like a million bucks."

You laughed, rolling your eyes. 

It was ridiculous how easy it was for him to get under your skin in the best way possible. "You’re soooo impossible, you know that?"

Crowe just shrugged, a playful grin tugging at his lips. "Impossible? Maybe. But you love it."

He pushed off from the doorframe and strolled into the room, his presence filling the space with ease. His gaze never left you as he leaned against the dresser, arms folding casually.

 You noticed how he was always so effortlessly cool—never rushing, never anxious, just... there. 

So certain of himself, yet always so attuned to you.

"Seriously though, for me,” You started, voice lowering just a little, that familiar warmth in it, “Personally for me, I can’t get over how you move. Like... the way your hips sway when you walk? The whole room might as well stop for a moment. You know that, right?" You joked. No, you not because you swear Crowe can be a damn model himself if he wanted to, he’s simply so pretty to look at, fuck.

A laugh bubbled up in his chest, though he tried to hide it with a dismissive wave. "Oh, stop it. Who’s gonna believe you? You’re trying to take my charmer side anyway. You’d have anyone eating out of the palm of your hand if you tried hard enough."

Crowe’s eyes softened, and there was a flicker of something deeper in his gaze. It only lasted for a second, but it was enough to make you pause. He took a step closer, his fingers brushing against your arm as he gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The touch lingered just a beat longer than necessary, and your breath caught in your throat.

"Maybe," he said quietly, his voice more sincere than you expected, "maybe they’re all just intimidated by how amazing you are. But you don’t need to worry about that. I’ve got your back. Always."

The words hit you harder than you anticipated. 

For someone who didn’t ask for help, Crowe had a way of offering it without hesitation. You couldn’t help but feel a little lighter in his presence like all the weight you carried was a little easier to bear when he was around.

"Why do you never ask for help, Crowe?" you blurted out, the question slipping before you could stop it. "You do everything for everyone else, but when it comes to you… it’s like you don’t want anyone to see you need anything."

Crowe let out a soft chuckle, his usual teasing smile curling up at the corners of his lips. "What can I say? I’m your knight in shining armor. I’m here to protect you, not the other way around."

You shook your head, affection flooding your chest despite his teasing. "You're not just a knight, Crowe. You’re my savior," you whispered, meeting his gaze with a look that felt a little too intense. "But that doesn’t mean you have to carry everything on your own."

He leaned in just slightly, his playful grin slipping into something more tender. "I know, I know. I just don’t want to burden you with my stuff. Besides..." He stepped closer, the air between you two thick with that warm energy he always carried. "I don’t mind being the one to take care of you. Who wouldn’t want to look after the most amazing person in the room?"

You blinked up at him, about to respond, but his gaze shifted. "Hey," he said, his tone suddenly more serious. "What's going on? You’ve been quiet for a bit."

You sighed, shrugging. 

"I dunno, just… I’ve been feeling off. About my body, I guess."

Crowe’s brow furrowed, instantly on alert. "What? What’s wrong with your body?" His voice had this sharp concern in it that only made your stomach flip, though you tried to push it away.

"Just... not feeling my best," you muttered, clearly frustrated.

The second the words left your mouth, Crowe’s eyes lit up with pure determination. He took a step back, scanning you like you were the most captivating thing he’d ever seen, his gaze never leaving you.

"Okay, hold on," he said, taking a dramatic breath like he was about to drop the most epic revelation of the century. "Do you hear yourself? You—" He paused, eyes sparkling as if he were about to tell you a secret that would change your life. 

"You’re like... a celestial being of pure power and grace. Honestly, I’m pretty sure Anubis would be jealous. Or like... every celestial god ever, really. You’re out here walking into a room and making time stop, love.”

He flung his arms out dramatically as though trying to capture your essence in the air. "The way you move? It's like you're in an art gallery, and the world is your canvas. Like, are you sure you’re not secretly a god in disguise? 'Cause I'm starting to believe it."

You blinked at him, struggling not to burst out laughing, a rush of warmth in your chest. 

"Crowe, you are so over the top."

He sighed dramatically, shaking his head as though you were the one being ridiculous. "And you’re really gonna argue with me on this? Have you even seen how perfectly you fit in my arms? I’m the lucky one here. I get to hold you.” He said.

“You’re the definition of perfection. There’s no one like you."

Crowe’s voice was low, almost hypnotic, as his hand brushed across your side, his fingers tracing along your waist in a way that made your skin prickle.

You gave him a soft smile, but inside, you were fighting the urge to blush, to get all sentimental. Instead, you turned back to your closet, trying to keep things casual.

"Well, if you're gonna keep looking at me like that, I’m never gonna finish getting dressed," you said, trying to sound unbothered. "We’ve got a date night to get to, remember?"

Crowe chuckled, stepping closer, his hand lingering on your arm before sliding down to your hip. "Right, right. How could I forget? The stars, your company... it’s literally the best combination."

You turned to face him, giving him a pointed look. 

“Keep it in your pants, Crowe.”

His smile? Immediate. Unrepentant.

That look in his eye practically screamed ‘I heard what you said and I’m choosing violence anyway.’ He leaned against the doorframe like he was posing for a fantasy romance cover, smirking with the confidence of a man who absolutely should not be trusted near you.

“Oh, I’d gladly take you down under the stars,” he said, voice smooth as silk and twice as dangerous. “You and me, the moonlight, a blanket, zero regrets. It would be perfect.”

You deadpanned. And then you launched the nearest pillow at his smug face with all the grace of divine judgment. Sins begone.

Of course, because he was Crowe, he dodged it with annoying precision, laughing like you’d just confessed your undying love rather than threatened him with soft furniture.

“Seriously?” you muttered. “You were literally raised by etiquette textbooks. How are you still this—this?”

He waggled his eyebrows. “Sinful? Irresistible? Blessed by the stars and burdened with unholy charm?”

“Unholy something,” you mumbled.

Crowe placed a hand over his heart like you’d just stabbed him—dramatically, of course. “You wound me. I’m simply a man in awe of a goddess.”

You sighed, dragging a hand down your face. “You’re so extra.”

He leaned in slightly, voice dropping just enough to be dangerous again. “Yeah, but you love it.”

You groaned like your soul was trying to leave your body, and he took that as a yes, the audacity radiating off him like heat off asphalt. With a wink and a mock salute, he opened the door—pausing dramatically in the doorway, because of course he did.

“Now, please hurry. We’re getting you out there like the celestial deity you are.”

And just like that, your infuriating, charming disaster of a man disappeared down the hallway, probably to go flirt with the moon or compose love sonnets in your name.

You couldn’t even be mad. He really did have a loving heart… buried somewhere underneath the twenty layers of dramatic flair, star metaphors, and relentless flirtation.

Ugh, Crowe knows how to work his charm with those words.

I’ll never forget my first love, I missed writing him.

✑ 𝓈𝑜𝓁

Sol’s the type who can see every curve of you effortlessly.

Sol stood back, his brush poised in the air as he looked at the canvas in front of him, deep in thought. 

The faint hum of the radio playing some emo-ass music added an artistic charm to the atmosphere. He was always so serious about his art, and you loved how passionate he could get when he was working on something.

"Hey," he finally spoke, his voice soft but filled with curiosity, "I need your help with something... and it’s a little out of the ordinary."

You looked up, a bit confused. "What do you need help with?"

He hesitated for a moment, eyes flickering between you and the canvas. "I want to paint you," he said, gesturing toward the canvas with a flick of his brush. "But not just any regular painting... I want to cover your body in paint. Think of it like... a living piece of art."

You blinked, trying to process what he meant. "Wait, like... actually painting my body? You want me to stand still while you paint me?"

Sol gave a shy, almost embarrassed smile, his green streaks shifting slightly as he adjusted his half-up-half-down hair. "Yeah, I know it’s a bit unconventional, but... I think it’ll be beautiful. The way the paint will move with your body... it’ll be like... history in motion." He hesitated again, as if second-guessing himself. "If you’re comfortable with it, of course."

You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the quiet passion for his art, and how much he valued your trust in him. You took a deep breath, trying to hold back the nervousness creeping up your spine. "Okay, Sol, let’s do it. Just... no weird historical poses, all right?"

He chuckled softly, his crimson-red eyes lighting up. "I promise, no Renaissance art poses... unless you want me to," he teased, giving you a playful wink.

You laughed, the tension in your shoulders easing. "All right, all right, I’ll trust you with this. But you better make me look like a masterpiece."

Sol moved around you, his movements fluid and focused, as he carefully applied the paint to your skin. The quiet hum of classical music filled the room, but his presence—his calm, steady presence—was what made everything feel still and serene. 

You stood there, wrapped in a moment that felt intimate in a way you hadn't anticipated. It wasn’t just about the painting; it was about the way he made you feel: seen, appreciated, cherished.

But as you stood there, exposed and vulnerable in front of him, a nagging thought crept into your mind.

What if you’re not good enough?

You shifted uncomfortably, your thoughts turning inward as Sol’s brush strokes continued. 

What if your body isn’t the kind of art he deserves to paint? 

You began to pick apart every little imperfection, feeling the weight of your insecurities pressing in.

Sol paused, sensing the change in your energy. He tilted his head slightly, studying you with those intense, almost ethereal eyes—one orange, one color—and then gently placed his brush down. He took a slow step closer, his gaze never leaving you. His hand, warm and soft, found its way to your waist, the touch small but grounding.

"Hey," he said, his voice thoughtful, a slight warmth in it that only seemed to intensify the affection he always had for you. "I can tell what you're thinking. But listen to me, all right?" He took a breath, his expression softening even more. 

"You’re... beautiful, in ways that can’t be captured by any brush or canvas. Not even the greatest painters could do justice to how... real you are."

His hand slid up your side, just a simple, reassuring gesture, but the warmth of it wrapped around you like a blanket. You opened your mouth to protest, but he shook his head gently, his fingers brushing your skin in a way that made you stop.

"You remind me of something... a quote from one of my favorite writers," Sol murmured, his voice just above a whisper. "Edgar Allan Poe once wrote, 'Beauty of whatever kind, in its supreme development, invariably excites the sensitive soul to tears.'"

You met his gaze, a flicker of confusion in your eyes.

Sol’s lips curled into a small smile, and his hand cupped your chin gently, guiding your face up to meet his gaze fully. 

"He meant that real beauty isn’t just about what you see, but how it makes you feel. How it moves you. And you, in your own way, are the kind of beauty that excites the soul—makes it feel something deep."

The quiet sincerity in Sol’s voice caught you off guard, his usual playful demeanor nowhere to be found. It wasn’t the loud, dramatic show of affection you’d expect from him—it was deeper, more subtle. So much deeper, in fact, that it almost took your breath away.

Sol was always ready with a quip or some teasing remark, his sense of humor a shield against vulnerability. But in this moment, he didn’t need humor. He didn’t need to hide behind sarcasm or wit. His love, his admiration, was felt in the smallest gestures: the way his fingers brushed the side of your waist, the way he leaned just a little bit closer during moments of silence, and the way his eyes never seemed to stray from you when you were together.

“You’re perfect just the way you are,” he whispered, his voice warm, and surprisingly serious. His hand traced the curve of your waist slowly as if memorizing the feel of you under his touch. "Nothing about you needs to change, not a thing."

You blinked, caught off guard by the weight of his words. 

There was no teasing, no lighthearted comment to follow. 

Just a simple truth that settled in your chest, easing the tension you didn’t even know was there.

"You don’t need to be anything else," Sol added softly, his voice so low it was almost a murmur. 

"You already are such a wonderful masterpiece."

You stood there, stunned for a moment. His fingers lingered on you like a quiet promise, and your insecurities—the ones that had been gnawing at you all day—seemed to melt away. 

There was no need for you to hide or change. 

In his eyes, you were enough. Perfect.

As he took a step back, his eyes moved over you again, but this time, it wasn’t the eyes of an artist, studying a piece of work. No, this time it was the look of someone who had already decided you were beautiful, flaws and all. Every curve, every imperfection was part of something that made you real, something that made you whole.

He gave you a smile—soft, almost proud. 

“You’re more beautiful than any painting I could ever create,” he said, his words coated in genuine admiration, the kind that made your chest swell with something almost too tender to describe.

“And I’m lucky I get to call you mine.”

Your heart warmed at the sentiment, but then, the mischievous glint returned to his gaze. Just as quickly as the vulnerability appeared, it was replaced with his usual cocky swagger. But the words still lingered, melting the tension in your chest.

You took a step back, shifting your body slowly, deliberately. 

A wicked grin spread across your face as you rolled your hips, just enough to send him a signal—something that would make him squirm.

“Lucky, huh?” you purred, voice smooth and teasing, your movements slow as you turned your back to him, knowing full well he was watching. You exaggerated the sway of your hips, pushing your body against him just enough for him to feel it. The way his breath hitched told you everything you needed to know.

His face turned crimson almost instantly, and you could see the telltale signs of him trying to play it cool like he hadn’t just been put on the spot.

“Careful there,” you teased, stepping closer again, your body brushing against his with purpose. 

“You might just find out how lucky you really are.”

Sol’s jaw clenched, eyes widening as he tried to regain his composure. But it was obvious. You had him flustered. The cocky grin faltered just slightly as he cleared his throat, a sheepish laugh slipping past his lips.

“I—uh—I'm always lucky, right?” he said, his voice faltering for a second before he cleared his throat again, cheeks still flushed. “You’re just, you know... distracting.”

You turned back to face him with a playful, knowing smile, eyes flickering over him. “Distracting?” You raised an eyebrow, lips curling into something more mischievous. “I’m not that distracting.”

“Y-You are,” he sputtered, his face burning brighter as he tried to backpedal, but his words were slipping out in a tangled mess. “I’m just trying to say—I mean, you’re—uh, distractingly... perfect. Happy?”

You could see the way Sol was trying to keep it together, his usual cocky demeanor slowly unraveling under the weight of your teasing. His face was flushed, and his breath was a little shallow—oh, you had him right where you wanted him. 

You couldn’t help but let a small, satisfied grin slip across your face as you brushed a finger down his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your touch.

“Happy, but I think you’re still a little... flustered,” you whispered, your voice low and teasing, barely above a breath.

Sol’s lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, he just stood there, cheeks flaming red, clearly at a loss for how to keep his cool. His usual confident swagger had disappeared, leaving him with nothing but his flushed skin and that almost desperate look in his eyes.

“Shut up,” he muttered, his voice gruff, though it didn’t quite match the tenderness he was clearly trying to hide. That smile—just the slightest tug at the corner of his lips—gave him away.

“I think you’re enjoying this a little too much,” he added, his words soft but full of warmth, like he couldn’t quite decide whether to laugh or pull you closer.

“Well,” you purred, leaning in so your lips were almost touching the shell of his ear, your voice barely a whisper. “Maybe I’ll stop distracting you... if you can keep your cool next time.”

Sol’s throat tightened as he struggled to form a coherent response, his eyes still fixed on you with that heated, almost predatory intensity. He cleared his throat, his hands finding the back of his neck in a desperate attempt to regain some control. 

“No promises,” he muttered, his voice slightly strained, clearly trying to hold it together. “But, uh... you’re lucky I don’t mind a little distraction... with you.”

You smirked at his struggle to hide his arousal, stepping back just enough to give him a little space. But not too much. You wanted him to feel it, feel how much you had him on the edge.

“Mmm, I think I’ve got you figured out,” you said with a sly grin, letting your words settle in the air between you two.

Sol let out a soft laugh, but it didn’t sound as confident as before. “Yeah, you do,” he said, still a little flustered, his cocky edge barely hanging on. “And if you keep this up, you might just make me say something... really cheesy.”

Your eyes sparkled with mischief as you took a step back, your body deliberately moving in a way that made his eyes follow your every movement. He didn’t even try to hide the way his gaze lingered on you, the heat of his stare nearly tangible.

“Maybe I’ll make you,” you teased, your voice dripping with mock sweetness. “We’ll see how much you can handle.”

And just as he took a breath to respond, you pounced.

In a flash, you had him pinned beneath you, his back hitting the ground with a soft thud as you straddled him with confidence. His breath hitched, a surprised gasp escaping his lips, but you didn’t give him time to adjust. 

You leaned in close, your lips brushing the shell of his ear as you whispered, “Now, tell me, Sol... can you finish your artwork now? Or will I be too much of a distraction?”

Sol’s eyes widened, a mix of frustration and desire flickering in his gaze as you pressed your body into his, feeling every inch of him tense beneath you. His hands hovered just at your sides, like he was trying so hard to keep them from pulling you closer—yet, you could feel the unspoken tension in his every muscle.

“I—I’m trying to focus,” he stammered, his voice lower now, almost a growl, but the way his hips shifted told you everything. “But you’re making it... really hard to concentrate.”

You smiled, leaning down to brush your lips across his jawline, just soft enough to send a shiver down his spine. “You’ll deal with it later, Sol,” you teased, the promise of something far more tantalizing hanging between your words. 

“Finish your art. And then, we’ll see what happens next.”

You could feel his restraint crumbling beneath you, and for the first time in a while, you saw Sol’s usual cockiness falter completely. It was a thrilling, heady sensation—watching him lose control, and knowing you were the one who had done it.

Who would've thought the artist would paint you like this, huh?

See? I’m not always mean when it comes to writing Sol. I’ll admit, he’s a cutie—though, we still have some unfinished business.

✑ 𝑔𝑒𝑜

Geo’s the type whose sharp eyes catch everything.

You and Geo were on one of your usual thrift store trips, strolling down the quiet strip just a few blocks from your place. The sun was starting to dip, casting a soft golden hue over the old, eclectic shops.

Geo, however, was clearly not thrilled. He was practically dragged here, grumbling under his breath as you walked past the piles of secondhand clothes and dusty shelves.

“God, this place is a hellhole,” he muttered, his nose wrinkling as he glanced around with disgust. “It’s like someone’s idea of a landfill masquerading as a boutique.”

You rolled your eyes, pretending you didn’t hear him complain every single time. “Come on, Geo. You might actually find something cool.”

He shot you a look, his arms crossed like he was waiting for an excuse to leave. “Cool? Cool? This place is so fucking dirty. The air smells like regret and broken dreams. It’s a maze of filth,” he scoffed, making a show of wiping his hands like he'd just touched something radioactive.

You smirked, unfazed. “Well, you’ll survive. I’m taking you to one of the nicer ones today, alright? You’ve got no excuse.”

Geo shot you a side-eye, clearly unimpressed. “Expensive thrift stores are still thrift stores. Don’t try to trick me into thinking they’re anything special.”

You shrugged. “Hey, it’s cleaner. And you can’t argue with the fact that you always end up paying for everything. So really, what’s the harm?”

He groaned, clearly not thrilled with the idea, but you knew how this would go. As much as he hated it, Geo was a sucker for your little adventures. You’d pick out a few things, he’d end up covering the bill, and you’d both walk out with something—him reluctantly admitting it wasn’t all bad, though he’d never say it out loud.

“Fine,” Geo grumbled, his gaze sliding across the racks with disdain. “But if I end up covered in dust and smelling like something dead, I’m blaming you.”

You grinned, knowing exactly how it would play out. 

Even if he hated it, Geo would never let you pay. As smug as he was, he always made sure you didn’t spend a dime—something about “his pride,” or whatever.

It was so classic Geo.

The soft jingling of a store’s bell announced your arrival at yet another quaint little shop, and as usual, Geo wasted no time diving into the racks. You followed behind, casually scanning the shelves for anything that caught your eye.

Geo, however, was on a mission. “Don’t even think about it,” he muttered, his eyes flickering over to the fast food stand on the corner of the street as you passed by.

“I wasn’t going to,” you shot back, rolling your eyes.

“Good.” He gave you that look—the one that screamed, I know better. The guy was an archer, after all—his entire lifestyle revolved around staying in top shape. Hell, he probably had a personal trainer on speed dial.

“Stay away from that junk,” he added, nodding toward the fast food stand, his tone like he was advising you on life or death decisions. “It’s just gonna sit on your hips.”

You shot him a teasing glance, the corner of your lips lifting. “Not everyone’s obsessed with being ‘perfect,’ you know?”

Geo huffed, a dramatic eye roll matching yours. “I’m just saying, you’ve got a good thing going,” he said, flicking his hand at your body like he was some sort of health guru. “Don’t ruin it with greasy fries and burgers.”

You smirked, crossing your arms. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were the authority on perfection. Should I start taking notes on your diet and workout routine?”

Geo shrugged, before looking at a rack of clothes, “I mean,” he said nonchalantly, “if you want to look like me, sure.”

“You’re so humble,” you shot back sarcastically, you shook your head, amused at how seriously he took it all.

After a few more minutes of browsing, you spotted a cute outfit in the corner and grabbed it, excited to try it on. You made your way to the fitting rooms, with Geo trailing behind. He stayed near the entrance, leaning against the wall like he couldn’t care less about what you were doing. But you knew better—he was always paying attention. Even when he tried to act bored, his eyes still flickered around, making sure everything was in place. 

It was one of the things that made Geo so undeniably… Geo.

Once inside the fitting room, you stared at yourself in the mirror, a familiar wave of self-doubt creeping up on you. The outfit fit fine—better than fine, really—but something about it didn’t feel right. You pulled at the fabric, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, but your eyes kept drifting to the parts of yourself you didn’t quite love. The parts you wished you could change. 

The outfit? It was cute. 

You just… weren’t sure you were. Maybe you do eat too much fast food, you thought, your fingers lightly brushing your stomach as your insecurities whispered in the back of your mind.

As you stared at your reflection, lost in your own head, the soft scrape of the curtain being pushed aside snapped you out of it. You turned quickly, heart skipping a beat, expecting an employee. But no—it was just Geo, tall and unimpressed, his sharp eyes flicking over the cramped fitting room like it offended him. He stood there like he owned the place, his arms crossed, with his usual air of perpetual irritation.

“What the hell are you doing in here?” you snapped, defensive and flustered.

Geo didn’t even flinch. His tone was dry, like he was bored of the question already. “You’re taking forever. And... you sounded upset. Figured I’d come in before you started crying and ruined the outfit.”

You rolled your eyes. “Geo, you can’t just barge in—”

“I just did.”

He stepped inside fully, letting the curtain fall behind him. The air in the small space changed the second he did. It was suddenly warmer. Closer. He scanned you from head to toe, but not in a crude way—he was calculating, studying, like he was mapping out your insecurities before you could say them aloud.

You crossed your arms over your chest instinctively.

“You look fine,” he said, blunt as ever. “Better than fine, actually. But you're standing there like you're about to throw up.”

You looked away. “It’s just— I don’t feel…”

Geo exhaled through his nose, annoyed, stepping in until he was right in front of you. He reached out, uninvited but unthreatening, and adjusted the strap of your top, letting his knuckles brush your shoulder. The touch was light, almost imperceptible. But it grounded you. He always knew how to do that—make a mess feel stable without saying much at all.

“Shut up,” he said gently, though the edge in his voice never softened. “You're fine. You always are.”

But that wasn’t enough. Not today. 

You pulled away, sinking onto the small bench in the corner, your face twisting with something hurt and frustrated.

“You’re always such an asshole,” you muttered, arms crossing tightly. “I should’ve taken Crowe with me on this thifting trip. At least he wouldn’t make me feel like garbage.”

That stopped him.

Geo stared at you. Not in anger. Not even in annoyance. Just… still. Then, quietly, he crouched down in front of you, folding his long limbs with unnatural grace, eyes level with yours. It was startling. Geo never lowered himself. Never came down to anyone’s level. 

He didn’t believe in it. And yet—here he was. 

Sitting in front of you like he was trying to offer you something raw.

“You want me to say sorry,” he said, more a statement than a question.

And you… nodded. Slowly. Hesitantly. Because yeah, it did hurt. You didn’t care what most people thought of your body. But him? He could wound you without even trying.

He sighed again, but not in exasperation. In surrender. “Fine,” he said suddenly, voice barely above a murmur, “we can have fast food.”

You blinked, stunned. That was so not the point—but before you could respond, his hand lifted.

His fingers—rough, calloused from years of archery and too many fights—skimmed lightly along the side of your neck. A breath caught in your throat. He traced the curve of your collarbone, like he was memorizing it all over again. Deliberate. Gentle. And then he touched the chain you wore—the one he gave you.

The pad of his thumb ran along the charm resting just above your heart, as if to remind you: he chose this for you. A twin to the one hidden beneath the collar of his hoodie, always worn, never shown. Just like his affection.

“You like where we go,” he said, voice low and steady, “You like the way I treat you when we’re out. I know you do.”

Your breath hitched, eyes wide, lips parting—but he was already closing the space between you.

“You like,” he continued, leaning forward, “that I know what makes you feel safe…”

And then his face—his sharp, pretty face—pressed into the curve of your shoulder blade. Not your shoulder. Not your collar. But the space right between—intimate, vulnerable. The tip of his nose grazed your skin, breath warm as it spilled across your back.

“I know what makes you feel good,” he whispered, the words shaped more from instinct than desire, “what makes you feel wanted… even when I don’t know how to want people the way everyone else does.”

You felt the shift before you saw it—his body bracketing yours, hand pressed to the wall beside your head. 

Not caging. Not crowding. Protecting.

Always that careful restraint, like he was made of sharp edges but would never dare cut you.

“I’ll say sorry,” he murmured, voice rough silk, his lips so close now they practically breathed against your skin, “a thousand times if that’s what it takes. For making you think I see you as anything less. I don’t.”

He pulled back just far enough to meet your eyes, and when he did—God. Geo didn’t just look at you. He studied you. 

His expression stayed unreadable, that same carved stone stoicism—but his gaze roamed, reverent and scorching, memorizing the parts of you he’d always admired but rarely said aloud.

“You don’t get it,” he said, voice lower now, almost reverent. 

“I see everything.”

His eyes flicked downward. Not in a crude way—no. It was hungrier than that and deeper. A slow drag of attention across the slope of your shoulders, the curve of your chest, the way your waist dipped into your hips. Every place your body softened, or pressed tight against your clothes, or creased when you moved—he drank it in like he owned the knowledge of you.

“Doesn’t matter what you're wearing. You could be in a hoodie three sizes too big or nothing at all, and I’d still be trying to memorize the way it fits around you.”

His hand ghosted along your side, not quite touching, but it made your skin light up anyway.

“I’ll let you hit me, if that’ll help,” he said, and this time his voice cracked, just a little. “I’ll get on my knees. I’ll beg.”

You could feel it—his tension. 

The weight of it in the way his jaw clenched, like it killed him to say that but he meant it.

“Whatever you need,” he said again, eyes flicking to your lips. “You can wear anything. I’ll still admire you for it. Every damn time. And I’ll keep buying you old and used shit if it makes you feel good.”

His head tilted, eyes narrowing, locking onto yours with that signature deadpan focus—cold, but not cruel. Just… impossibly precise. As if the rest of the world had blurred, and only you remained in focus.

“…But don’t pretend like you want anyone else but me,” he added, voice dipping. Something raw coiled underneath the words. 

Possessive. Territorial. “Especially that charmer.” That last word landed like an arrow—clean, direct, and deliberate. It struck where it was meant to, buried deep.

“That’s the only thing I won’t apologize for.”

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Your lips parted slightly, but nothing came out. Your face was burning, heat creeping down your neck, blooming across your chest. And your heart—God, your heart was a mess of stuttering beats and heavy thuds, too loud, too much.

Still, you held his gaze. Those sharp, hunter’s eyes—focused, unflinching. An archer’s eyes. The kind that made you feel bare and known and hunted all at once.

Okay… maybe you did feel a bit better.

Because Geo never missed his mark, certainly not with you.

Blushing at this part… didn’t think it would land that hard—damn.

✑ 𝒽𝓎𝓊𝑔𝑜

Hyugo’s the type who always had a way of touching you.

The textbooks were open, sure. Highlighters are scattered across the coffee table. There were even half-finished online flashcards pulled up on your phone.

But the studying?

Yeah, that died the moment Hyugo showed up with that lazy grin and a bag of snacks he definitely wasn’t supposed to bring near the couch.

“You know,” you said, nudging him with your knee as he flopped beside you, “we’re supposed to be reviewing the chapter on cognitive development, not watching cat videos on your phone.”

He didn’t even flinch. “I’m multitasking,” Hyugo said, one hand holding up his phone as a kitten somersaulted across the screen, the other casually reaching into the bag of chips. “Besides, you said we were studying. I already finished that unit last night.”

You blinked at him. “You what?”

“Yep,” he popped the ‘p’ smugly. “Got bored. Knocked it out at like, 2AM.”

“You—? Hyugo, we have a test today. You’re supposed to be panicking with me, not acting like it’s optional.”

He finally set his phone down, turning to you with that annoyingly bright, cheerful face of his—the one that screamed, I’m way too charming to ever suffer consequences. “Why would I panic? I’ve got you. Worst case, I cheat off your paper.”

You shoved his shoulder, and he laughed, leaning his head back against the couch like he hadn’t just confessed to academic fraud. 

“You’re such a menace.”

“Yeah, but I’m your menace.” He grinned sideways at you, hair slightly messed up from how he’d flopped into the cushions. “Besides, don’t act like you don’t like having me around when you’re stressed. I make good noise-cancelling background static.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“I know.” He winked. “That’s why you let me distract you instead of forcing me to open a textbook.”

“Because I know you’ll ace it anyway.” You paused, sighing. “Seriously though, how do you always finish everything without looking like you try?”

Hyugo shrugged, eyes twinkling. “Magic. Or maybe I just hyperfixate until it’s done and forget to eat in the process. Who’s to say?”

You just stared at him for a beat, then leaned over to steal a chip from his bag. “I hope you fail the extra credit.”

“I won’t,” he said smugly, popping another chip into his mouth, “but thanks for the emotional support, babe.”

You rolled your eyes, frustration building as you tried to explain Piaget’s stages of development for the third time. You were so close to getting your point across, but then—there it was. That subtle shift in the air. Hyugo. You didn’t even need to look up to know what was happening. He was moving again. Not loudly, not jarringly, just that soft, insistent motion of his body sliding closer to yours.

Before you could even finish your sentence, his legs stretched out across the couch, and his head was nestled in your lap like it was his damn birthright.

“…Hyugo,” you warned, voice flat, trying to keep some semblance of focus while a textbook balanced precariously on your knees, the edge just missing the top of his head.

He didn’t even acknowledge you at first. 

“Shh,” he hummed, his eyes already closed, the tips of his lashes grazing the tops of his cheeks, his expression soft and relaxed. "I study better like this."

“No, you don’t,” you muttered, shaking your head in disbelief. 

"You don’t even study."

“I observe,” he replied nonchalantly, voice thick with that lazy calm he always had when he was too comfortable. “And absorb. Osmosis.”

You sighed heavily, rolling your eyes so far back you thought they might stay there. 

But still—despite everything, you didn’t push him off. Not yet.

Your hand, as if on its own, drifted to his hair. It was a habit by now. His hair was always so warm, so soft, and you hated how comforting it felt between your fingers. He smelled like faint citrus and clean laundry, a scent that reminded you of sunlight on a lazy afternoon, wrapped up in hoodie form. It was ridiculous how nice he smelled.

And then, it happened.

Slowly, carefully, with the kind of audacity only Hyugo could get away with, he turned just enough to press his face into your stomach. His arms slid around your waist, pulling you in like you were a pillow he had no intention of letting go. 

He just… settled there. 

His body was warm and secure against you, like he’d staked his claim and expected you to accept it.

It was so casual, so effortless, that you almost didn’t know how to react. But your body knew. It tensed instantly like you had no control over how it responded to his touch. He was too close. Too present. The heat of him spreading across your skin made your breath catch, and your spine went rigid, all the while you were desperately trying to keep your composure.

The book you’d been holding slipped off your knees, tumbling onto the floor with a quiet thud. You didn’t even have the mental space to care. Instead, all you could focus on was the weight of his head against your stomach, the feel of his arms around you like some kind of anchor. His presence was all-consuming, and somehow you could never quite get used to it.

You didn’t understand why Hyugo was always touching you. You didn’t mind it, not in the way you should’ve. It wasn’t that it annoyed you—hell, there were times it felt like you didn’t mind it at all.

But why? Why did he always need to be so close? 

You weren’t even sure why you didn’t push him off when you knew you should. Was he really that confident? Did he not see how ridiculous it was for someone like him to be so affectionate with someone like you?

You looked down at him, his face pressed against your stomach like it was the most natural thing in the world, like he could do this forever if you’d let him.

But how could anyone, especially him, be into someone like you? 

Someone who was all sharp edges and curves and things that made you uncomfortable in your skin? How could he adore you the way he did when you didn’t even understand how to adore yourself?

And yet… you couldn’t help it. 

The warmth of his body against yours, his gentle breath on your skin, it was like a constant reassurance. His affection, so soft, so unrelenting, was like a force you couldn’t escape.

Hyugo’s voice broke the silence then, soft and rumbling as if he sensed your thoughts and wanted to ground you in the present.

“You’re so quiet when I do this,” he muttered, his arms tightening around you just a little more. “

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, huh?” He added.

You swallowed hard, unsure how to explain. You didn’t know if you could even put it into words. “I—don’t get it,” you said, your voice almost a whisper. “Why are you always so close? I’m… I’m not like others, Hyugo.”

He pressed his face deeper onto your stomach, his eyes steady, warm, and intense. His gaze softened, that familiar tenderness you couldn’t seem to escape.

“Hyugo—” You pushed at his shoulder gently, a warning, a tremble in your voice you didn’t mean to let out. “Don’t. Stop”

He stopped moving. If anything, he just held you tighter.

“Stop it,” you whispered again, more to yourself than him, hating how your voice cracked. “That’s not fair.”

“Why?” His voice was muffled against your shirt, soft and steady. “Because I love you too much?”

You tried to pull back again, your hands moving to his shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie. The movement was instinctive—trying to push him off, just a little space between you. But, damn it, he didn’t budge. Hyugo, always so damn stubborn, always so strong. Why was this short shit so damn solid?

His hand, warm and steady, slid down to the side of your hip, his touch slow, intentional, like he was tracing the outline of your body in the way only he could. Every inch of your skin, every curve, every line, he made it feel like it was meant to be touched.

You bit your lip, trying not to show how his closeness was making your heart pound. You weren’t sure why you still hesitated. But his warmth against your stomach was undeniable—something in the way he pressed his face into you felt different, familiar, like he belonged there.

"You don’t get to say that when you do this," you whispered, your voice small against the growing pressure of his presence. 

"Not when I’m like this."

Hyugo shifted, his hand resting at your waist as if he could hold you there forever. "Like what?" he asked, voice low and curious, his gaze never leaving yours.

You didn’t answer, because, honestly, you couldn’t. 

He knew what you meant. Hyugo always knew.

His breath hitched, and then there was the softest exhale like he was absorbing every moment, every inch of you beneath his touch. He always paid attention. So much attention.

"You think I haven’t noticed?" His voice was barely a whisper now, but it sent a shiver through your body. "You get quiet every time I touch you here," he murmured, his hand grazing your side, just enough to remind you of how it felt to be seen. "Like I’m not supposed to. Like I’ll notice something you don’t want me to see."

You tried to look away, but his eyes, those baby blue, soft eyes, never let you escape. You swallowed hard, heart thumping in your chest. He was so close, and everything about him made it impossible to hide how he was slowly unraveling you, piece by piece.

His fingers brushed your curves again, gently, as if exploring, and in that touch was a world of affection that you couldn’t deny. 

“I love the way you feel,” he added, his voice tinged with something deeper than casual flirtation. "The way you’re built, the way your body speaks without saying a word. You have strength in every inch of you. And, that’s what gets to me. You don’t have to hide any part of you from me.”

Your stomach clenched, and this time it wasn’t with discomfort but with something that felt like relief—a soft weight that you didn’t realize you’d been carrying until now. 

He wasn’t judging. He was worshipping. 

Every curve of your body, every part of you he touched, he made it feel like you were a masterpiece in his eyes.

You didn’t say anything. How could you? 

His words were making you feel too seen, too cared for, too cherished. 

You never imagined this kind of affection would feel so overwhelming, so soft. His affection wrapped around you like a blanket.

"I’m not leaving," he murmured again, as his hands pulled you closer, wrapping around you like a shield, as if to say, I’ve got you. "You can hate it. You can push me away. But I’m staying. I won’t let you shrink back into yourself."

Your hands trembled against his chest, and his gaze softened even further if that was even possible.

“You don’t get to apologize for parts of you I already love,” he said, his voice a little hoarse now, each word carrying weight, like a promise. "I will cling to you like a damn leech because I want you to see yourself the way I see you. I want you to feel it. Feel the love I’m giving you until it seeps into your bones. Until your body feels the love, too."

His hand moved again, caressing the curve of your hip in slow, soft and slow strokes, as though he had all the time in the world to make you feel the warmth of his touch. There was a tenderness there that made you breathless, like he was trying to imprint that love into your very skin.

“You’re perfect, you know that?” he murmured softly, his genuine words making your heart flutter. “Don’t let anyone—especially yourself—tell you otherwise.”The way he said it, so casually, but with such an unwavering certainty, made your throat tighten. 

You didn’t know how to process it, how to take in all the love he was offering.

It was too much. But in the best way.

His fingertips traced the line of your waist, a careful, intentional touch that sent a shiver through you. His body pressed so close to yours that you could feel the heat of his own skin, and that heat felt like a balm for every insecurity you’d ever harbored.

“Your body,” he continued, his voice soft but firm, “is a reflection of your strength, of your warmth.”

It was impossible to ignore the way those words resonated deep within you. He wasn’t just talking about your curves or the way your body felt beneath his hands. 

He was talking about your spirit, your strength, the way you carried yourself in a world that often tried to tell you you weren’t enough.

You felt a flush creeping up your neck, a heat that had nothing to do with his touch and everything to do with the way his words were making you feel. The tightness in your chest only seemed to grow, a mixture of vulnerability and something else—something more powerful that you weren’t quite ready to admit.

“And I’ll be here,” he added, his voice softening even further, “always, loving you for every inch of it."

His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, and you couldn’t help but close your eyes for a moment, trying to absorb everything he was giving you. The way he saw you, the way he adored every inch of you, it hit you deeper than you ever expected. 

It made your heartache in the best way—this raw, aching love that you couldn’t escape, even if you wanted to.

And still, he didn’t let you go. 

Hyugo’s arms remained wrapped around you, strong and secure, holding you close as though he never wanted to let you slip away. 

It was like he was trying to make sure you never forgot how beautiful you were, how worthy of love you were. You couldn’t help but marvel at the way he held you like you were his teddy bear, his safe place. A person with a baby face like his, always so soft and warm, but with a heart that could hold the weight of your world. 

He had a way of making you feel safe, cherished—like you were the most important thing in his life, and nothing would ever change that.

His presence was like sunlight, his affection the warmth you never knew you needed. And in that moment, as he held you there, you realized something: 

Hyugo needed you, because, after all, you were his happiness.

I may have a few favorites when it comes to writing Geo and Hyugo…

[evaalovett]

Percy jackson x fem!reader

sypnosis: surprising percy with a gift

Percy was always a little different, but that was part of why you loved him. Being the son of Poseidon meant that he was always connected to the ocean, always off talking to creatures beneath the waves in ways that most people couldn’t even begin to understand. For him, it was normal. For you? Well, it was a little quirky—but that was part of his charm.

You’d been browsing the internet one day, feeling a little curious, and stumbled upon a page selling marine animal plushies and these bracelets that supposedly allowed you to know your animal’s name, history, and track their movements in the ocean. You knew Percy didn’t really need the bracelet—he could just dive into the ocean and talk to the animals himself—but you couldn’t help it. The idea of getting him something cute, something thoughtful, made you smile. And, hey, the plushie was adorable, so why not?

So, you bought it. The plushie was soft and adorable, a little shark, and the bracelet, which sparkled in a way that almost mirrored the ocean’s surface, arrived not long after.

You placed the package in Percy’s cabin while he was off training, intending to surprise him later. You’d taken a nap, curling up with the blanket and quickly falling into a peaceful sleep, the thoughts of the surprise gift a warm thought in your mind.

Then, you woke up to soft, rapid kisses being planted all over your face, Percy’s excited voice filling the air.

“I can’t believe it! This is so cute, I love you so much!” he murmured between kisses, his face lighting up with that joyful, infectious grin. He was practically on top of you, his hands holding the gift tightly. He was practically vibrating with excitement, like a kid on Christmas morning.

You could barely register the warmth in your chest before you laughed softly, reaching up to brush the hair out of his face. “I’m glad you like it,” you said, feeling that familiar flutter in your stomach. The way he was so happy, so enthusiastic, made you adore him even more.

Percy pulled back just slightly, still clutching the plushie and bracelet in his hands, and his face lit up with a grin. His excitement was practically bubbling over, and he couldn’t help but share what he’d just discovered.

“I was looking at the link, and—” he started, his voice full of wonder. “This little guy’s name is Gary. It’s a silky shark, though I’ve never seen one around before…” Percy trailed off, a small frown forming as he thought about it. “But hey, I’ve talked to a lot of sharks before, so I’m sure we’ll cross paths soon enough. Silky sharks are pretty cool, right? I’ve never met one personally, but it’s a real species, and I think he’s pretty rare.” Percy looked thoughtful for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly as he added, “Maybe someday I’ll meet him, or at least find one like him. I mean, there are so many sharks out there…”

He gently ran his fingers over the plushie’s fin, clearly intrigued by the idea of a shark he’d never encountered. “It’s kinda wild that it’s an actual shark species. Silky sharks are known to be really fast swimmers, but not much is known about them.”

He gently brushed his thumb over the plushie’s fin, his excitement still very much palpable. “Maybe one day, I can introduce him to you. I’m sure he’d be super chill with you.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the way his eyes glowed when he spoke about the ocean, the way his mind immediately dove into the endless possibilities. “Maybe you’ll meet Gary one day,” you teased, giving him a playful nudge. “And I’m sure he’ll be just as cool as you think he is.”

Percy’s grin widened as he leaned down to kiss you quickly, his lips soft against yours. “I really love you, you know that, right?” he murmured, still holding the plushie. “You just… get me, and this—this is perfect.”

[willowsnook]

Concerned (LN)

lando norris x neighbor!reader

Another late night working and you were exhausted. You’d been on PTO the week before, so now you were playing catch-up and drowning. Trudging back to you apartment, you rounded the corner and ran right into someone else.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” your neighbor said at the same time you started to apologize. You had met him a couple of times, but he was gone a lot, so it was a pretty standard friendly neighbor relationship.

“You look horrible.” The words slipped from your lips before you could stop them, and a small, amused smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. His face was haggard, dark circles under his eyes and a weary expression that spoke of sleepless nights. The lines on his forehead deepened as he tried to hide his fatigue, but you couldn't help but notice how drained he looked.

“I’ve had trouble sleeping,” he admitted, and you tilted your head, looking for more, but he didn’t say anything else.

“Okay, come on,” you said, heading towards your apartment. With a moment's hesitation, he followed behind you into your apartment. The first thing that caught his eye was the unique decor - the walls adorned with scattered pieces of art, each telling its own story. The colors and textures clashed and complemented each other in a chaotic symphony, creating an atmosphere that felt both whimsical and intimate. He couldn't help but feel drawn in, wanting to explore every inch of this quirky space that was a reflection of you.

You sat him down on a barstool in the kitchen before opening a cabinet filled with various powders and ingredients. He watched as you contemplated a bit before picking a couple down and placing them on the counter. Filling the kettle and putting it on the stove, you turned back to him and tried to figure him out.

“You have a lot of ingredients for tea,” he said, not knowing what to say.

“Yeah, I read this book earlier this year about a woman who owned a tea shop and then became fixated on making perfect tea,” you said and he smiled. He felt himself starting to relax around you, appreciative that you hadn’t pushed on why he looked so tired even though he knew you probably had a good idea.

The comfortable silence lasted a couple of more minutes before being interrupted by the high scream of the kettle, and you carefully poured it into a cup that would turn it into your favorite tea invention.

“Let it cool for a couple of minutes,” you told him, and he nodded, picked it up, and moved to the couch. You unpacked your bag from work, looking up occasionally to see him sipping and staring out of your grand windows. Deciding he was probably fine by himself, you went to take a shower and change into your pajamas.

As you emerged from the bedroom 20 minutes later, you spotted the familiar mug sitting on the coffee table, and him sprawled out, fast asleep on the couch. A small smile tugged at your lips as you quietly made your way over to him, careful not to wake him. The soft light filtering through the window cast a gentle glow on his sleeping face. You reached for a nearby blanket and draped it over his body, making sure he was warm and comfortable before retreating back to your room.

The next morning you slept in a little later before coming back out into the kitchen. Lando was still snoring softly on the couch and you kept quiet as you made coffee and pulled out eggs for breakfast. You heard him stir and looked over your shoulder to see him sitting up, yawning. He slipped off the couch and made his way towards you.

“I owe you one,” he said and you waved him off. “You are my favorite neighbor.”

“What an honor,” you joked and he smiled.

“What can I do to repay you?”

You stood thinking for a second before smirking, “Well I’d love it if you could get me Carlos’ autograph; he’s my favorite driver.”

He scrunched his eyebrows together disapprovingly, causing deep lines to form on his forehead. You couldn't help but let out a small laugh at his reaction before turning back to the skillet of sizzling eggs.

“I’m going to head out now, but again, thank you for last night. I really needed it,” he said, and you turned, surprising him as you hugged him. His embrace was tight but not suffocating, and his arms felt strong and sturdy around you. When he pulled back, you could feel the weight of his exhaustion in the way his body slumped slightly.

“You need to take care of yourself,” you said.

“It’s hard,” he replied and you pulled back to see his sad eyes looking back at you. Giving him one last smile, he left you to make breakfast, retreating back to his own place.

———————————————————————

The rest of your weekend went by quickly and you enjoyed the relaxation of not having to think about work. Sunday afternoon, you were deep cleaning your apartment, casually paying attention to the football games you had in the background. After scrubbing your kitchen, you took a break, pulling out your phone and scrolling through Twitter.

Now, you weren’t a big F1 fan; you just tuned in every once in a while mainly because you thought it was cool that you knew a driver, but you’d see tweets on your timeline every once in a while. One caught your attention, and you opened the thread to see some account commenting on a recent stream that Lando had been on with his friends. You watched the video of his friends making fun of him for eating expired food and giggled as they ragged on him.

Thinking back to the other night, you started to actually be concerned about him eating expired food. First of all, it was gross as fuck. Secondly, it could easily make him sick. Having an idea, you grabbed your keys before heading off to the grocery store.

A couple of hours later you were outside Lando’s door, having just knocked on it. He was surprised to see you standing there when he swung open the door.

“I have something for you,” you said, and his eyes flickered down to the bag in your hand before letting you in. Setting it down on the counter, you began pulling out all the Tupperware filled with several different things.

“This should last you until you have to leave again to race,” you said nonchalantly, turning to look at you. He looked at you wide-eyed, taking in what you did for him.

“You made me food?” He asked slowly and you nodded.

“I heard that you were eating expired food, which is disgusting,” you said, and a small smile crossed his face. “That could also kill you, and it would be really irritating to have a bunch of police and noise here to deal with it.”

“Mmmhmm,” he said smirking. “So you did it because you didn’t want to be inconvenienced if I poisoned myself?”

“Exactly,” you told him. “If you were my favorite driver, I would say I was doing it because I care about you and want to make sure you are okay.”

“But I’m not your favorite,” he said and you nodded. “Correct.”

He smiled to himself as you bid him goodbye before heading back.

Later that night he hopped on to stream with Max who instantly asked him what he had for dinner.

“A burrito bowl,” he replied and Max perked up.

“Did you order it?” He asked and Lando shook his head.

“No, my neighbor heard that I was eating expired food so she made me a bunch of meal prepped things to last a couple of weeks.”

“Was it your hot neighbor?” Max asked with a smirk and Lando blushed.

“Yes,” he mumbled.

“Just so everyone in the chat knows, Lando has been simping over one of his neighbors for almost a year now, and instead of just talking to her like a normal person, he just stalks her on social media and turns into a lovesick school boy anytime he sees her.”

“That’s not true,” he complained and Max laughed.

"Remember when you saw her at the little coffee shop by your place? She chatted with you for what, five minutes? You couldn't stop talking about it for weeks," he teased, savoring the memory of his friend's flustered excitement.

“Shut up mate,” Lando muttered with a slight grin. Little did he know that you had been tuned into the stream, listening to all of this.

pt 2

[unformula1]

promises - 1 (ln4)

part 2 || you and lando used to be best friends, but you two drifted apart. (1464 words) a/n: im back ! should i make a part 2?? || masterlist

You and Lando used to be friends. Best friends, one might say. The two of you were inseparable. Every Friday night, without fail, both of you would meet up at the playground near the central district of your hometown. The playground would usually be empty, with most children staying in with their parents. This gave you and Lando the whole playground, all to yourselves.

It was perfect to make the purest memories. Just two kids, pure innocence and naivety, and a friendship which felt like forever. You’d talk about which toy cars were the better ones, he’d always say the orange ones. You two would laugh about the silliest things, and promise each other to be friends forever. 

You two grew up together, went through the teenage years with each other, there in the highs and lows. Every Friday night became every night. You two would see each other daily, at the same playground. As both of you matured, so did your conversations, you two started talking about your love lives, your future.

Both of you sat on the ground, leaning against the wooden base of the slide which both of you used to ride together.

~~~

“I mean… It seems pretty cool.” You tell him.

“It is.” Lando confirms, “I’ve been doing it since I was a small kid, just zooming around.”

You chuckle as Lando mimics driving a go-kart.

“You see yourself driving them forever?” You ask, shifting closer to him.

“Hell yeah.” He replies confidently, not a single ounce of doubt in his voice.

“Alright then.” You smile, “Go for it.”

“You’ll be there right?” He asks you.

“I will. You’ll remember me right?”

“Yes.”

~~~

Both of you made promises, whether they were the shallowest things or the deepest feelings. He never left you alone, you never made fun of him for the quirky things he liked. He stood by you when the worst was brought upon you, when you cried about some stupid boy not liking you back, when you lost your only ticket to your dream university.

~~~

You sat on the floor of his room, wiping away the dried up tears on your face. You’ve never felt this vulnerable to anyone. He lays down next to you and props himself up onto his elbow, looking at you. You glance back at him as he fiddles with his hair. 

“Are you gonna keep staring at me?” You ask, letting out a soft chuckle as you continue to wipe off your tears.

“Sorry.” He replies, laughing a little, “They don’t deserve you anyway.” 

He sits up and shrugs.

“You could do better.” He deadpans.

Your lips curve up ever so slightly.

“Well-” You sigh, “I guess I’ll stay here forever.”

Both of you laugh again.

“So will I.”

~~~

But he didn’t. Lando Norris left the town in pursuit of greater things.

“You’re leaving?” The realisation hits you.

He sheepishly nods.

Your emotions are all jumbled up into one big mess, everything just engulfing your heart as tears start falling.

“Oh-” Lando says before hugging you tightly.

You hug him back, your tears staining his sweater.

“C’mon now… don’t get all teary on me.” Lando says, clearing stifling down sobbing sounds.

You can’t let out any words.

~~~

It finally came a few months later. You stood in the airport, face to face with Lando. You felt the overwhelming feeling of nostalgia, letting all the memories from the youngest ages of childhood flow through your head as you closed your eyes, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes.

He looks at you with his stupid little grin, his eyes getting watery as he purses his lips, taking in deep breaths. 

You run up to him and hug him, for what might be the last time ever. It’s a tight hug, one surrounded by years of friendships and years of memories all building up. He sobs on your shoulder, jerking slightly each sob as you grip tightly to him, never wanting to let go.

But you have to. Both of you take a step back. Lando takes out a necklace for you.

“For you.” He says, “I have a matching one.”

You sob violently and take the necklace, immediately putting it around your neck and holding onto it with a deathly grip.

He reaches out for your hand. Both of you hold hands for a few seconds, he closes his eyes once again as the tears traced his cheekbone and clung onto his jaw, trickling down slowly.

“We’ll stay in contact.” He says softly in between heavy sobs as he pulls you in one last time, patting you on the back.

“We better.” You crack a joke which makes him giggle. He nods more and pats your shoulder.

The moment has to come to an end eventually, with a heavy heart he takes a step back. He looks you in the eyes one last time and you stare at his brown-blue glistening eyes which sparkled.

You’ll miss those.

You’ll miss him.

You’ll miss all of this.

As he enters the boarding gates, he looks back at you again, smiling slightly at you as he waves slightly. You look back at him, wishing you could be there with him, flying somewhere same. Something wants you to run up to him and hold on tight to him but you stay put, waving goodbye to him. 

He holds up the necklace and smiles at you, you smile back at him, choking through the tears which suffocate your lungs as the sting in your throat resurfaces. You hold the necklace up to him too and for the last time, he nods at you, turning around and slowly disappearing from your view.

You stand there. 

What do you do now?

What are the weekly nights reserved for now?

Will you ever see Lando again?

———

The nights felt empty and missing a piece, because they were. You missed sitting with him in the cool breeze of the evening or in the dim lights of the nearby stores, talking about things that you would never tell anyone else. You missed all of it, every single angry, sad, happy, nostalgic moment. It was hard to change your entire life, you called him and texted him every single waking minute of your life and he did so too. However, it never felt the same. Sometimes you’d wake up in the middle of the night just to imagine he was there with you again and your tears would involuntarily come trickling down again. 

Eventually, you got used to it, like you do.

The years past much quicker than you imagined. You watched Lando grow from a young karter to Formula 1 driver. Sometimes you catch yourself watching his races and other times you see his face in the billboards across town.

You don’t know if he remembers you but both of you practically lost contact after you two stopped texting a few years back. It was rough. Both of you made each other the world, you made him your world. Absolutely nothing was going to stand in your way, but time took its path, and fate drew its sword. It was something that you could never change no matter how hard you tried. Even with empty days and sleepless nights just pretending and wishing and hoping that something would happen. It wouldn’t. 

So you had come to peace with it, he was just another passing chapter in your life, meeting once and never again, ingrained in the stone of life.

You were proud of him, for making it this far. You really were. Nothing would ever make you wish anything but the best for him; after all, he was the biggest boy in your life at one point, and nothing would change that. You were incredibly happy for him, for how much effort he’d put into this, he deserved everything. You even watched him win his first race in Miami.

You shed a tear or two. The memories of everything flooding back into your head, just remembering Lando as a young kid saying to you he’d take over the world. He did. You were proud.

But you weren’t there.

Were the promises you made all empty? Just passing in the moment to be carried by the wind and never to be seen or heard ever again?

You sat on the couch watching him take the top step of the podium, holding up the trophy as the sunlight serenaded his face. The familiar sparkle of his eyes stood out to you, it was like when he left. This time his tears were happy ones. 

Your tears were bittersweet.

A few hours pass and a chime from your phone gets you off your couch and reaching for your phone.

You got an Instagram DM, from landonorris.

[sweetcherriexs]

oops;b.e.

heavy breaths fell from billie’s lips as she walked under stage after her latest show, a couple pieces of her bhlosh confetti stuck in her hair and her skin covered in a thin layer of sweat as she smiles at the staff and everyone under there. eventually, her eyes locked with yours, and her smile increased tenfold as she approached you, being careful not to step suspiciously close.

"hey.." she breathed softly, fingers twitching at her sides in desire to touch you, hold you.

"hey, bils." you smiled back at her, leaning against a rack of boxes. "you did so good up there"

billie’s eyes brightened up, her bottom lip between her teeth as her cheeks flushed the slightest bit. "thanks" she mumble, almost bashfully before she felt hands on her shoulders.

"come on, guys. let's get changed" one of her band members said with a smile, dragging her to get changed.

—

a while later, late in the night, you approached billie’s hotel room door, knocking gently with a hint of nervousness in your movements. when the door opened, it revealed billie in just her silly pajamas and hotelroom slippers. she quickly pulled you inside, shutting the door behind you before pushing you against it, hands gripping your shirt as her lips pressed to yours.

"missed you" she murmured into your mouth, eyes closed as she continued to kiss you desperately, her hands all over your clothed body and she pressed hers against it, the two bodies fitting against each other like puzzle pieces. she pulled away from the kiss, putting her forehead against yours as she breathed softly.

"missed you too" you mumbled, your hands planted on the front of her torso as you bit your lip.

soon billie pulled back and took your hand, leading you further into the hotel room "wow, yours is... much bigger" you chuckled, looking around the room in awe.

"what? you guys' rooms aren't like this?" billie asked with furrowed brows. she watched you shake your head and frowned more. "oh... I can..–" you put a finger to her lips, smiling at her adoringly.

"sh, just relax for a second, okay? I'm here, we're alone, let's enjoy it"

she nodded, letting out a sigh. "you're right, yeah" a smile quickly replaced the frown on her face and she looked at you. "so... what were you plans? since you decided to come here, hm?"

you rolled your eyes at the mischievous glint in hers. "nothing like that." you shook your head "just... some alone time. with my girlfriend" you mumbled, fidgeting with the strings of her batman pajama pants.

billie’s expression softened as she watched you, taking your hand in hers gently. "okay, baby. let's relax together" she pulled your hand up to her lips, pressing a kiss to it then dropping it and wrapping her arm around you. "come on" she mumbled softly, leading you towards the queen bed in the room, helping you onto it and laying down with you. she pulled you into her, letting your head fall to her chest and her hand tangled in your hair.

"God, I'm so tired" she mumbled with a yawn, stretching one arm out above her. you hummed in response, hand on her stomach and rubbing it softly.

"your pj's are so silly, baby" you said, voice laced with amusement as you held in a laugh.

billie smiled, looking down at your hand on her stomach, tracing the batman signs on her pajama shirt. "hey, I think they're very quirky" she said with a false offensive scoff and you laughed.

"yes, so cool and quirky" the both of you laughed for a bit before it got quiet again and you turned your head to look at her.

her eyes met yours and you felt your heartbeat increase in your ribcage as you stared into them. "I love you" you murmured, tracing her features with your eyes. everything about her was so mesmerizingly beautiful, it was all making it hard for you to breathe properly.

a smile bloomed on billies face, her hand that was still tangled in your hair, massaging your scalp gently. "I love you too, pretty girl" she said with softness, the love in her eyes evident as she looked at you for a long beat before she leaned down to kiss the crown of your yeah. "let's get some sleep, my love" she murmured.

you nodded, closing your eyes and getting comfortable in her arms "wake me up early so I can sneak out" you mumbled and she responded with a small hum before the both of you drifted off to sleep.

—

the next morning, you were awoken by a gentle touch to your shoulder. you opened your eyes, looking up to see billie hovering over you with a smile. "good morning, weirdo" she grinned and leaned down, pressing a small kiss to the tip of your nose before letting you sit up.

"mm, morning" you mumbled mid-yawn.

"I ordered room service so we can eat before you sneak out" she tells you as she gets up. "so hurry up and go do your adorable morning routine. don't change though" she said with a smirk, licking her lips.

you rolled your eyes as you got up, walking to the bathroom. you didn't know why, but ever since billie found out your morning routine, she's been calling it cute or adorable. there was nothing out of the ordinary about it, and you couldn't seem to wrap your head around it.

a couple of minutes (lots of minutes) later, you emerged from the bathroom and saw billie out on the balcony, the food from the room service already on the table outside. a smile formed on your lips at the sight of your girlfriend, just leaning against the railings with a mug of tea in her hands, basking in the early morning sun.

you soon joined her outside, shutting the sliding door behind you. "heeey" you greeted her with a smile.

"mm, baby" she turned around and smiled at you, putting her mug down and engulfing you in a big hug, wrapping her arms around you and pulling you to her chest "gosh" she breathed out as she took in your scent. "i love mornings like this" she sighed softly, cradling you in her arms.

"me too" you whispered, leaning into her embrace.

then, she pulled back, hands on your waist as she looked into your eyes. "I love you more though" she said, and even though it was corny as hell, it still made your smile widen and your heart beat faster. she was about to lean in, waiting to finally get her long awaited morning kiss before out of the corner of your eye you saw something move in the bush across the street from your hotel room balcony and you pushed her away as discreetly as possible, smiling as you sat down to the table and begin preparing yourself some breakfast.

"paps" you mumbled under your breath as billie stood there, confusion and hurt written all over her face before it changed to annoyance at your words and she sat down across from you.

"fucking hell" she mumbled angrily "do you think they got anything?" she asked with a sigh, and though she tried to hide it, you could see the anxiety in her eyes.

"I didn't see a flash so, probably no. it's too early to get a good angle from down there without a flash"

billie nodded, letting out a relieved breath and smiled at you, picking up a grape from the fruit bowl. "oops, almost got us caught"

you laughed at her cheeky expression, loving how she could go from angry and anxious to humorous and cheeky all in one minute.

"yeah, bils, be more careful" you added playfully.

part 2 coming soon...

[puari-vol]

The Perfect Pet

cw: Hypnosis, Pet play

I was on my way home from work when I got the strangest text:

Tiff

Hey slut could you run by the laundromat and pick up my clothes?  should be in the third machine from the door.

You

Uh sorry I think you have the wrong number

It was a pretty embarrassing thing to accidentally text a stranger, I couldn't help but think that whoever this had been meant for must be in a pretty quirky relationship. I reminded myself not to be so judgemental, then I got another text

Tiff

Whoops forgot to do the thing lol Slumber party time

“I’m a good girl, I’m a good slut” I muttered to myself, my body suddenly felt very heavy. My arms fell to my sides and my eyes fluttered for just a moment. Then everything felt normal again. I lifted the phone and quickly reread the text conversation

Tiff 

Are you there, slut?

You

I’m here! Sorry about that Miss Tiffany,  You want your laundry right? I can be there in fifteen minutes

Tiff

good slut no rush lol key is under the doormat

I hurried over to the laundromat anyway, it just felt so good to obey. And if I was a good enough girl, then maybe she’d even use my mouth today. I grabbed the clothes and made my way to Miss Tiffany’s apartment. Once inside I took a moment to reminisce…there had been a slumber party here a few weeks ago, my fourth one I think? It was hard to tell them apart. Then I quickly texted Miss Tiffany back.

You

Delivered! Do you want me to fold them and put them away?

Tiff

Sure lol if you wanna 

I got to work, the rest of Miss Tiffany’s clothes were also unfolded and scattered around her room. So I cleaned up all of those too.

You

All done Miss Tiffany!

I waited a few seconds…then a few more…I bit my lip, anticipation building...until suddenly

Tiff

Good girl

I let out a soft moan and my legs felt weak. I basked in it for just a moment. Then I was already texting again

You

Is there anything else I can do for you Miss?

I felt a little disappointed when she replied:

Tiff

Na can’t think of anything, ur good

Feeling disheartened, I got ready to leave. Only for my phone to buzz again, sending my hopes soaring

Tiff

Actually, you gonna be busy for the next hour or so?

You

No Miss!

Tiff

Cool, why don’t you wait for me Just get comfy on the couch and press your button for me slut

You

Yes Miss!

I sat down, and raised my index finger in front of my face. I let my eyes focus on it, then I tapped myself on the-

…

…

…

…

*Tap*

I was lying down on the couch now. When I opened my eyes all I could see was Miss Tiffany’s beautiful pussy. My mouth fell open and she lowered herself onto me. She road my face while I did everything I could to pleasure her, after all if I did good enough she might-

“Good Girl”

My hips thrust into the air while I moaned into her, it was so much better hearing it out loud. She continued to pepper in ‘good girl’s' between her pants and gasps, and I got so fuzzy that all I could think about was the taste of her. Finally she was finished using my mouth. She got off me and slid me onto the floor, where I went to work dutifully massaging her feet. She stuck a toe in my mouth and I sucked it happily.

“That was great, you’re getting better at that slut. Such a good girl”

Her foot in my face stifled my moan, and she giggled at me. I noticed it was my phone she was scrolling through while I worked. 

“Looks like you got a few other orders while you were out. But you’ve been a good slut today already, want me to tell them to get someone else?”

I shook my head as much as I could with her foot in my mouth

“Of course you don’t, such a good little slut” 

She glanced back down at my phone and read to me

“Well, it looks like Mina wants you to do her homework, Alice wants her dick sucked, and Kelsey just sent a picture of a maid dress and told you to come over. You got a busy day ahead of you slut”

She pulled her foot out of my mouth and let me stand up, she handed my phone back to me with a smile, I went to put it in my pocket, then realized I wasn’t wearing any clothes. I quickly got dressed and made my plan. I could go see Alice first, then I should probably pick up Mina’s homework before going to Kelsey’s cause the maid thing was gonna take all day. It made me so happy knowing I was going to be such a good girl for them all.  

--

I wasn’t sure what else to do, Mina’s homework was done, and I was all out of maid tasks. Kelsey was fast asleep, she had spent most of the day surprise groping me while I worked on cleaning her dorm room, and apparently that had really worn her out because she didn’t look like she was waking anytime soon. I had been hoping for one more ‘Good Girl’ to finish off the day, but it was fine. I was a good slut, I was happy just to be used. I got dressed and headed for home. Another task came in over my phone. But rather than eagerly accept I found myself texting that this slut was tired and done for the day. I received a ‘good girl’ in reply which left me dizzy. But during the walk home, I found the day's activities began to fade from my mind. I had gotten off work, hung out with some friends…and now I was going home. I was standing outside my front door when I got one last text.

Mistress

Hey there cutie :) Did you have fun today?

Another wrong number? In the same day? I texted back to clear up the misunderstanding.

You

Yes Mistress

I stared at my phone, and tried to figure out why I had just typed that, and also why this stranger was named ‘Mistress’ in my phone. But before I could even begin to feel confused there was another text

Mistress

That’s good to hear I’ve been keeping an eye on you, and I think I’ve decided to make you mine Doesn’t that sound lovely pet?

You

Yes Mistress

I stared dumbly at my own thumbs as they typed out and sent the message for a second time. I received one last text, then everything went fuzzy.

The next thing I knew, I was standing somewhere else. I was in front of a completely different door, with my arm raised as though I had just finished knocking. Before I could spend any more time figuring out where I was, the door opened and a dazzlingly beautiful woman was standing inside. She smiled at me, I recognized the smile.

“Perfect timing sweetie” 

From behind her another girl walked out of the apartment. She had a vacant expression on her face, and didn’t even glance at me as she walked down the hallway towards the exit. The woman gestured for me to enter

“You’re up next, come on in” 

I did and she shut the door behind me

"Honestly I decided I was going to keep you from the moment we first met, breaking you mind was just so much fun"

"Um...thank you"

I couldn't really understand what this lady was talking about, but before I could think about it more I was distracted by the sight of another young woman who was curled up in a pet bed in the corner of the room. She was naked aside from a leather collar around her neck. I stared at her wide eyed while the woman took a seat on the couch. She laughed when she saw me looking

“Jealous?”

I tore my eyes away, my face turning red. I looked at the woman. There was something so familiar about her but I couldn’t quite place it. She laughed at me

“You are just adorable all confused like this, take a seat”

She patted the couch next to her, and I obeyed. Good Girls obeyed…something was swimming up to the surface of my mind Good Girls obeyed…

“Mistress?” 

I heard myself ask, it was like I was listening to myself from underwater. She smiled at me 

“Why don’t we get you all comfy pet”

She took me by the shoulders and pulled me down, she adjusted me until I was lying on her lap looking up at her. Somehow she seemed even more gorgeous looking down on me like this. There was a voice in my head that was still confused, still wondering why all of this was happening. But that little voice got quieter and quieter as I stared into Mistress's eyes while she gently stroked my hair.

“So do you remember why I called you here?”

I was suddenly broken free from my stupor as I struggled to process the question.

“Uhh, I’m uh…I’m…uhh”

She giggled and placed a quieting finger over my lips

“You don’t need to worry about it pet, you don’t need to worry about anything anymore” 

I sighed, that seemed so nice. She gave me another loving smile as I relaxed into her.

"Now pay attention pet, there's one last thing you have to learn about the button that turns off your brain. You know it can be pressed and you can be turned on and off, you know it can be held down and you can have new instructions installed. but did you know you can be reset completely?"

I just stared up at her, not fully comprehending

"It's true! I can just erase everything and start from scratch. and its going to feel so so good, you'll probably just cum the moment I do it. Then everything in your mind will be gone forever, doesn't that sound good pet?"

The words simply fell out of my mouth

"Yes Mistress"

"Good Girl, would you like to say goodbye?"

"...to who Mistress?"

"You silly"

She leaned down and kissed me on the forehead. My eyes rolled back and my mouth fell open as I gasped and moaned, pleasure I had never felt before wracked my body as my mind went blank.

…

“And now that everything in your mind is gone, I’m going to fill it back up. Your time as a slut did so good training you into my perfectly obedient little toy. But you aren’t a Slumber Party Slut anymore, you’re just Mine. You belong to me, and as far as you know, you always have. There is nothing else, there has never been anything else. You live here with me, and you do as you are told, because you are my perfect pet, my very good girl. All you need to know is that I am your everything. and Awake”  

Mistress snapped her fingers and gently pushed the pet off her lap

“Pets don’t wear clothes”

Mistress said, and the pet started stripping while Mistress left the room. When the pet was naked she fell to her knees. without Mistress in the room there was nothing for the pet to do, nothing to even think. The moment Mistress returned, She consumed all of the pets attention. Looking for a sign, waiting for a signal. Mistress smiled at Her pet and approached, She was holding a collar in her hand. She put a finger under the pets chin and tilted her head up, then tightened the collar around the pets neck. Without a word She clipped a lead to the collar, turned around and walked away. The pet followed behind on her hands and knees, the pet enjoyed the pressure on her neck as Mistress gently pulled her. 

“The leash is gonna stay on for a while, new pets are so very dependent, and I wouldn’t want you to wander too far”

She stopped in front of a computer desk, leaned down and clipped the other end of the leash to a hook set up beneath the desk. With another gentle tug She dragged the pet underneath, then pulled up a chair and sat down. Mistress rested her feet on the pet and went to work on something. The pet curled up and started getting comfortable in her new home…no…this had always been her home.

[chlorinecake]

「 𓍯𓂃 I KISSED HER FOREHEAD AND NOW SHE'S 𝒢IVING ME CRYSTALS ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 」

𝐢𝐞. super Y2K crush scenarios with 𝐍𝑒𝕨 𝐉𝚎𝐚𝕟s

── ✰⋆⁺ 𓊆ྀི . . path to bookshelf ◍ 𓊇ྀི 🔮 虹 . . . 𝔸ᶰĎ 𝒴𝐨𝕌 ?. . .

❖︎ pa𝓲ring .ᐟ 뉴진스 x female!reader

❖ g𝓮nre .ᐟ fluff, comfort, wlw, friends to lovers

❖ 𝒘𝗈𝗋𝖽 count .ᐟ 𝟏,𝟎𝟒𝟏 total ✩ ✩ ✩

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐉𝐈 ── ❝ You smell pretty today... ❞

“You too!” You blurted out, right before realizing you'd gotten your words mixed up, “Wait- I meant to say you look pretty, but... I guess I mean both? Gosh, does that even make sense?”

A tiny smile spread across Minji's features at your adorable timidness, her boot-clad feet taking a few steps towards you before pulling you close, gracing your frame with a tender hug, “It makes perfect sense, weirdo… thanks...”

Her voice was calm and soothing as usual, despite the way it made butterflies swarm in the spot where your heart should be. You couldn't really explain it, but something about Minji's energy always had a way of making you look and feel like a lovesick geek by time you got a proper sentence out—

“So,” she began again, breaking from the embrace and looking you straight in the eye, her hands resting at your shoulders, “when were you gonna tell me about this little crush you have on me?”

Your eyes widened like you had seen a ghost, a nervous chuckle slipping past your lips as she tilted her head at you, just as you muttered a distracting, “Right after I told you which Victoria's Secret fragrance I'm wearing?”

𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐈 𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐌 ── ❝ Crystals? As a gesture?... ❞

“Pfft, of course!” Hanni replied matter-of-factly, “just like how you gave me coins for that gum-ball machine we passed earlier… but who's keeping track of all that stuff anyways?”

“You, apparently...,” you said as a gentle laugh escaped your lips at her quirky reply, “but touché, Hanni Pham... what should I do with these?”

“Hmmm,” she hummed, cupping your right palm in her own as the colorful stones glittered beneath the mall’s sunroof, “you can put them under your pillow at night!... o-or maybe even stash them in your purse so you can think about me wherever you go!”

“As if I'd need a crystal’s assistant with that,” you teased, ruffling her hair slightly with your free hand. “These are cool, though,” you went on, heart warming at both the feeling of your hand in hers and at the unique gift, “very sweet of you...”

“Eh, I tryyyy,” she replied smugly, right before blowing a tiny pink bubble with the gum she chewed, only to spit the leftover candy into a napkin and ask, “wanna close your eyes and guess what flavor you taste on me?...”

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐇 ── ❝ I like your sweater… ❞

“Oh, this old thing?” Danielle asked with her warm Australian accent, taking the colorful sweater’s hem in her fingers to examine it's loose threads, “My nana knit this for me like... forever ago...”

“Well it's cool to see she was a step ahead of fashion trends back then,” you smiled, letting your hand brush over the soft yarn of her sleeve... That's when a certain question arose in your head:

“Random, but by chance, are you any good with using chopsticks?” You asked, wanting to keep the conversation going.

“Oh, for sure! I’m basically a pro at it,” she boasted, flipping her curly locks in a cartoonish manner.

“Sweet! I have two coupons for two different places. One for a craft store, and another for a sushi bar… only thing is that they both expire tomorrow,” You went on, hoping that she'd catch your drift without you having to state any specifics...

“Oh? Well it'd be a total bummer to let them go to waste,” she shrugged, hooking her arm in yours before tugging you along with her, “we better get going quick before they run out of sashimi… or yellow yarn…”

𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍 ── ❝ Can I come in please...? ❞

You heard a gentle voice call from behind your bedroom door, face buried into the largest pillow you could find given the sob-fest you had earlier…

“The door’s unlocked,” you sniffled, turning over on your bed to face her as she peaked from behind the door, her bright smile not even fading at the sight of you.

“I brought some heartwarming treats and DVD’s!” She began, voice just as pleasant as it always was. Haerin made her way to sit beside you on the bed, opening one of your favorite candy bars and handing it to you.

“How’d y’know I was upset?” You asked before taking a bite of the candy, chuckling a bit at the way she watched you so intently while doing so.

“I didn’t,” she went on plainly, “… I already wanted to surprise you today and just got lucky that it ended up being at a time where you needed it most…”

“Awww,” you pouted, dropping the candy bar to pull her into a hug, “you’re literally the best friend I could ask for, Haerin… thank you for coming to see me…”

“Of course,” she whispered, mind lingering on the word friend for a moment, even though she was certain you meant something a little more than that…

“So,” she began again, breaking from the contact and reaching for the TV remote, “Wanna rewatch Mean Girls or Clueless first?”

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐘𝐄𝐈𝐍 ── ❝ Can I touch your hair? ❞

You asked the question for one reason: You were bored out of your mind from waiting at the bus stop, and playing with Hyein’s hair seemed like a fun way to pass the time…

“Oh, sure!” She chirped, immediately straightening her posture on the park bench as you scooted closer to where she sat, taking her wavy locks into your grasp.

Hyein’s round eyes wandered to the sparkly pink Juicy Couture purse you wore over your shoulder, compelling her to ask, “What’s in the bag?”

“Oh- just some barrette’s and hair clips I got from Claire’s yesterday,” you replied, pausing to click open your purse and show her the different kinds, “Thought you might be interested in some extra bling, so…”

“You know me far too well then, ____,” she smiled, scanning each package with her eyes before suggesting that you decide which hair-clip style she would wear, and vice versa.

You let out a simple “Okay” at her offer, reaching for the pack of silver shooting stars for her hair while she held the pack of butterfly clips beside your face, a satisfied look spreading across her features.

“These are gonna look gorgeous on you,” Hyein smiled, right before opening the pack of butterflies clips and popping a few different colored ones in her palm, “This is too fun already, hehe… I can decorate your hair first, right?…”

ʚ 𝐀𝒰𝐓ᕼ𝕆𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝕆T𝐸: I decided to explore the wlw genre for a change, and I have no one other than @jwanniie to thank for inspiring me to experiment on my platform in such a way through her works... I've always wanted to write for my fav GG's just like how I write for my fav BG's, but simply never found the courage to until now ~ Hopefully you guys enjoyed what I came up with! ɞ

❖ 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ( 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 💌 ) @squoxle @nikisvanillaccola @wonbinisbabygurl @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @addictedtohobi @ot7sevenlvr -> if GG content isn’t your thing, pls lmk and I’ll refrain from tagging you in such posts moving forward :3

[hometoursandotherstuff]

If there's one thing I love, it's a quirky little house that's priced right. This 1900 house in Louisville, KY is a real gem. 2bds, 1ba, 1,407sqft, $274,900.

As soon as you walk in, you can tell that an artist lives here. I hope a new owner doesn't come in and take away all this character.

Here's a weird little area. Love the brick wall.

Very cool room. This looks like it was an exterior wall at some point. What an interesting home.

It has a large kitchen with an industrial sink. I wonder if it was once a restaurant. And, look at the vintage stove. Love that antique cabinet next to the stove.

What a jewel this stove is- look at the handles.

That's some big sink.

Cute corner for the table.

The bath looks pretty roomy.

Large primary bedroom looks like it was a sunporch.

Hallway with shelving.

The 2nd bedroom.

Here's a nice laundry room with space for storage.

In the back there's a nice patio and garden.

The yard is pretty spacious. 3,920.4sqft lot.

Side of the house has a path to the backyard.

Adorable property.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/912-Franklin-St-Louisville-KY-40206/73662301_zpid/

[venusincleo]

aligned.

chapter one. the way.

Warnings: MDNI • Explicit • Terry Richmond x Black!OC, Self!Insert, a lil fluff, just introductions. 

Summary: Right place, right time. When Cleo meets Terry, the rugged pretty boy, at the club on a celebratory night, it seems like the first in a string of divinely twisted moments. But will fate be enough to move their love along, or will they have to weather some storms before their happy ending?

Word Count: 1.3k❣

A/N: Hiiiiii! Long time no... read? lmaoooo but i hope you enjoy this first part of aligned. 🤭

• • •

It had gotten to the point where she just didn’t care anymore. She didn’t look over her shoulder to see if some fine man just so happened to be watching her, or peer across the room to stake her claim over a stranger. It was no use. She was always the last to get picked for anything good; the last of her family and the last of her friends. Of no fault to them of course.

It may have been her quirky way of saying things, her very singular interests, or how serious she could get about the things that mattered to her. That always seemed to intimidate people; her intensity.

But at this point in her life, Cleo had begun to pull her energy back inwards, and focus on herself for once.

She honed in on what her style was, her favorite nail shape and color, how she loved to wear her hair. She focused solely on the things that brought her joy; that benefited her and no one else.

Cleo was so effective, she even figured out how she wanted to use her purpose, and began on the path she dreamed of. It was as if she suddenly found herself living by her mother’s words: the mark of a woman is her signature. So that’s what she found. Her signature scent, her signature look, her signature way.

It wasn’t her intention to lure him in, or anyone for that matter. But when you live in your own world, and love it? You’re bound to have a few tourists.

Terry’s eyes scaled the live club, carefully moving from the bottom level to the top to scope out anything unusual. It was apart of his routine: every hour on the hour make sure everything was secure on the property, and keep a keen ear out for any distrubances. But as the Head of Luxe Nightclub security, he found that he’d seen more inch long skirts, pasties for shirts, and aching feet than any actual fights. It was a perk.

Easy work from now on was the goal, a way to still do some good without the fear of constantly being on the frontlines. He had subordinates for that.

As he rounded the club, examining the partiers and human mannequins alike, he made his way back to the front, where the hour just hit 11:00 p.m.

Three girls shuffled into the door from the cool spring air, all of their brown skin was glistening to perfection, dresses seemingly tailored to their exact sizes, and hair befitting to all of them. The guard that was stationed at the door quickly ran the handheld metal detector over all of their frames, and as Terry made sure to keep watch of anything he may have missed, his eyes met the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

She was like the median of the group; not the skinniest nor the thickest, but fine as hell. Her hair consisted of dark locs that fell just past her shoulders, her deep brown skin was covered in a few tattoos along her arms, and her little black dress clung to her most promising assets.

Though he didn’t want to stare, he found his eyes stuck on her, noticing her d-cup breasts that sat under her low plunge neckline. And then there were those eyes. Almond shaped yet big, and sort of doe-like. Even though she looked like she belonged, her eyes stood out; as if she was the most innocent girl in the room.

Those very eyes flickered up, catching his gaze as she got past the entryway of the club.

Cleo blinked in his direction, taking in the sight of him. His eyes seemed…green? And…blue? Teal maybe? She didn’t fully know, but they were gorgeous, feline even and starkly juxtaposing the serious scowl on his face. But judging from the vest and stealthily holstered gun, she figured he had to look that way.

Had to look menacing just in case someone wanted to try something while he was on the clock. Had to watch her for a full minute as she walked past to find her and her friends’ section.

Throughout the night, she completely forgot about the tall man. She drank, and danced, then drank again. Soon, she could feel the bass of the hip-hop songs playing in her body, and she let the liquor take away any inhibitions she had around gettin up on the small table within their section. As Saweetie’s voice blared through the speakers, Cleo swayed happily, prompting her friends to cheer her on.

Mrs. Make it Happen, doing numbers got em pissed!

She pointed her forefingers at herself as she sang along, and all of her friends jammed right with her. The whole club erupted in different voices singing the lyrics, and she smiled at the atmosphere.

Arch yo back, toot it up, damn I’m cute as fuck!

As Cleo followed the instructions of the line, her friends screamed even louder, glad that she was finally letting loose.

Terry could hear the happy screams across the room, his ears perking up at the sound. He had finally gotten himself to stop staring over at the goddess of a woman that he saw walk in, and now everything in her direction was pulling him back in.

Allowing himself to glance over, he saw a figure higher than all the rest, and on a double take, his brows furrowed as he realized who it was. Her. Dancing on the table with all of her friends egging her on.

Though he loved the sight of her twerking her ass to this melodic rap tune, he couldn’t be caught letting a liability slip under his radar. He walked slow, wanting to let her have her moment, but as he watched on, her other friend got on the table as well, and then another girl from one of the other sections nearby. Gotdamnit. Terry sped up his steps, and as he walked up on the table, he looked up at the woman in awe.

“Excuse me, I’m gonna need y’all to get off this table.” His deep voice projected in the loud room, and even though everyone heard him, only Cleo looked down. Her body didn’t stop moving, she swayed to the end of the song as the DJ mixed it with something else, but she couldn’t help but smile at the man who seemed determined to get her down.

A ghost of a smile met Terry’s face as he reached his hand up, and she put her hand in his, instantly feeling his warmth as she stepped down carefully. Finally at the height that her heels afforded her, Cleo looked up at the tall man, curious about his continued eye contact.

“You gotta be careful, these tables ain’t meant to handle all’a that.” He flirted absentmindedly, giving her a quick look down her body and back up to her eyes.

“Mmh, are you?” Cleo retorted, Hennessy and sass lacing her words.

“Hell yeah.” When the short woman’s smile grew, Terry realized his mistake. Shit. He really didn’t mean to say that outloud. But as her eyes lowered and her smile faltered just a little, he didn’t feel an ounce of regret in his body.

“I’m Cleo.” She replies, following suit and looking him up and down. A scoffed chuckle from the man’s lips made her smile grow yet again, and he rests his hands in the straps of his bulletproof vest.

“Terry.”

• • •

I do not condone any translations, replications or plagiarisms of my original work. Please do not repost as your own. Reblogs and comments/notes welcome. ♥︎

• • •

༓TAGLIST༓

@motheroffae @nayaesworld @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @mymindisneverhere

*I just tagged a couple people but if you want to be removed or added, let me know in the comments.♡*

[mamayura]

Okay but what's crazy is that the episode does subtly reveal that Adrien did keep it a secret from Marinette that he's more than silent jogging buddies with Sublime

In the beginning, Marinette says that when she asked Adrien if he and Sublime talk when they go running he always says "no". This is factually correct as we find out in the end through Sublime:

But there is obviously something not adding up here. Sublime literally says "Outside of running, of course Adrien and I talk". They just arent talking in any of their morning runs because Sublime in particular is doing it as serious training. So no talking because that would impact their breathing, but outside of that? Well, yeah, duh.

And that makes sense

Adrien and Sublime are in the same ancient Greek class, of course they would talk. I'm gonna go with the assumption that this is why Sublime started running by his side, because they vaguely knew each other from Greek class and when they crossed each others running paths one morning they were familiar enough to just run together in silence

Look, I- I dont know how to put this more elegantly, so I'll rip off the bandaid. The vibes I'm getting from this episode are that Adrien was more than cool with not talking anyway because he deliberately keep his friendship with Sublime a secret from Marinette because he knew Marinette would be weird about it and that made him uncomfortable.

He knows his girlfriend and she's peanut-butter-and-jealous.

And the thing is, as much as this certainly is a complicated topic with a lot of factors to consider for both sides, the way the episode had Marinette go about all this...

... the episode proved him RIGHT. He was right to be too uncomfortable with letting Marinette know about being friends with Sublime. She merely found out that they were running together in silence and proceeded to not only keep watching them each morning and taking photos, Marinette even proceeded to stalk the hell out Sublime:

No, this isnt normal. This isnt a "quirky girlfriend" thing to do, or "funny haha". Its one of the reason why Adrien didnt feel comfortable letting her know.

And, I mean, yeah. I can't blame him for it, can I? :I

Later on, Sublime is very quick to piece together that the girl hiding behind them is Adrien's girlfriend. Not the thing I would immediately go with, unless of course Adrien did already vaguely mention having a girlfriend to Sublime at one point. Then yes, her coming to this conclusion after Marinette followed her all day makes a lot more sense. Even if those are not.. nice implications. The episode does go on playing it straight at first that Marinette is the weird and a bit alarming girlfriend.

Look, you can pretty this up if you like, but for me, Adrien is clearly a solid bit uncomfortable and very apologetic here to Sublime because of Marinette's behavior. Sublime too is being nice about it to a degree you shouldnt take for granted. She would have had been perfectly justified in saying something else entirely. Adrien is trying to be a good boyfriend about this, but Marinette is out here proving him right in having struggled with wanting her to know about Sublime. Marinette has been following her around all day, Sublime noticed, and Adrien is doing good faith damage control here by telling Sublime that Marinette has good intentions and only wants to be her friend.

Something, though, that the episode clarified 3 times wasnt really the case:

It is so weird that at the core of the problem for both sides of Adrinette WAS Marinette being peanut-butter-and-jealous.

Marinette did NOT try to befriend Sublime out of some pure-hearted desire to know her. She did so because she feared that Adrien could end up not loving her anymore if she doesnt gain some control over the Sublime situation real quick

And Adrien DID keep his friendship with Sublime a secret from Marinette because, well, was he wrong?

And thats the thing. The episode just DROPS this in favor of saying that Marinette only had these pure-hearted intentions to know her when that isnt true. The episode proved Adrien alarmingly RIGHT in his gut feeling to keep Sublime a secret from Marinette, they just-

They just didnt let him know about any of it as if that makes it any less true. I would understand it if this episode had been entirely about tackling this issue for good. Adrien not being wrong for feeling uncomfortable with letting Marinette know about any new female friends and then Adrien gets proven right, but the situation is saved by Marinette's secondary desire of befriending Sublime.

Sure, not the plot of my choice, but I would GET IT because it would actually cover the given problem. Here it is... they didnt do it. Adrien was proven right, Marinette did everything wrong to Sublime that was possible and ended up breaking her prosthetic and ruined the sponsorship with a combo of Marinette's and Ladybug's harmful inconsideration.

Marinette did exactly what Adrien was afraid of... and they just DON'T resolve the initial Adrinette core of this issue. It's still ongoing. Marinette didnt even get to react in the end to finding out that Adrien did keep her in the dark about talking to Sublime:

I guess for now the explanation for that will be that Adrinette switched positions in this for once and now it's Marinette who isnt questioning it enough that Adrien only said the truth to her going by the technicality of "She only ask him if they talk while running".

Obviously, this is not how it works. He kept her in the dark. And whether he was right to doing so or not isnt important for the feeling I'm getting that this is just the beginning of a streak of similar problems like this. The postponed resolution to this will happen at a later point, and knowing Miraculous, they'll do it after it escalates to hell.

We already saw it in "Illustrhater" and the synopsis for "Werepapas" for example also sounds like Marinette will not stop here being a questionable girlfriend

I just dont understand why they would keep on DOING that?

[enorsstuff]

Literaly everyones design in the new hazbin pride merch is SO much better than their original designs..

Rant below👇

Vaggies is too formal and doesnt really fit the exorcist/hotel manager thing shes got going on but its still very pretty. Also I LOVE what they did with her hair its so cute! (I love her sm i wish she was an actual character sigh..)

Angels fluff is full on display and not watered down FINALLY, hes got a cute heart motif and looks classy(?) but at the same time casual, and OH MY GOD, THE HAT, its such a little detail but i love it so much, why you ask? Angel doesn't have much in his design in what era he died, and i remember reading somewhere that hes up to date with fashion, so i understand his design may have been hard to make since how can you convey that a character is from the 1940's while also making them fashionable to todays standards? The hat!! Idk if its just me but thats the perfect solution! I dont know what its called but his specific type of hat is one that was very popular during the 1940's-1950's so whenever i see it, it immediately makes me think of that era (but this might be just me..)

Charlie just looks a more profesional and gives off a hotel vibe, like I'd see someone working at a hotel I'd expect tyat kind of casual yet profesional outfit and not her original suit (especially not one with a bow-tie). I also prefer how her hair a lot more just like with vaggie! The little bow she has is also very cute and fits her character! (tbh I always struggled to draw her hair like in the show so im really impressed by the animators for pulling it off❤️)

And oh my GOD?? HUSK?? HE LOOKS GORGEOUSSSS, hes absolutely KILLING IT MY KING!!! I love his hat maybe it could have been some type of hat popularly wore in the 1970's but it really suits his vibe and character so it gets a pass and thank god tgey gave him a shirt, im not slut shaming.. but come on.. cover them up😞 they also gave him shoes which im very glad for.. (i mean all they changed from the pilots design is giving him some pants and suspenders was a shirt and some shoes really less important to his design than random dots on his wings and stuff?)

When I saw lucifers design I was in SHAMBLES IM TELLING YOU.. why.. WHY is his design so majestic??!!! and most importantly WHY WASNT IT LIKE THAT IN THE SHOW? his design here is almost perfect.. his hat has the snake with the apple forming a freaky hellish halo and also a snake eating itself (which is a symbol of eternity and progressively repeating cycles which probably is meant to symbolize how hes stuck in hell/his punishment fir eternity and how he creates ducks over and over to cope with his failed(?) marriage, his distant relationship with his daughter and how he'll never be able to create in heaven or go back there ever again)(i might be reading to much into this but anyway..) his outfit is really fancy and over the top something you'd expect from royalty the only negative thing i can say about his design is the lack of shoulder pads to hint at his ringleader role.

Sir pentious's design is just really cute and fits his era a lot better (it doesnt look exactly like how men in 1880's wore their suits but if he simply unbuttoned his suit it would)(WE WERE RIGHT THERE!!!/ref)

I cant see a lot in cherri's outfit since shes turned around but it still looks really neat and has some explosions/bombs patterns so thats pretty cool!

Alastor also looks a lot better, his suit is actually pretty simmilar to those in the 1920's and I LOVE the weird thing hes got going on with his bow! The biggest issue i had with vivzies indulgence in bows is she NEVER made them intresting! Imagine if lucifers bow looked like a little apple, if angels bow looked like arachnis's bow, if charlies bow was a lot rounder and bigger to show of her quirky and silly personality! Theres so much potential! But as always.. its all wasted.. im also a sucker for the back of suits to have a pattern so i like that! (I just wish it wasnt voodoo symbols...)

Nifty's outfit is really cute the stripped skirt and fur fits her a lot! (The fur could belong to someone/Valentino to hint at her crazy hordering side) I wouldnt say its better than the original since it has no maid motif which is a big part of her "character" but it would be cool if it was mixed with the original design! Just her regual outfit with the stripped skirt and fur.

The Vees (as much as i dont like how theyre written) look SOOO MUCH BETTER, Velvette actually looks like a fashionista, vox looks like a man from around the 1950's-1960's and a bussinesman and Valentino doesnt look like hes wearung a stereotypical halloween pimp costume LMAO. All jokes aside they(again) just like the rest of the cast look SO much better (liking the design DOESNT equal endorsing the characters actions, cough cough velantino cough cough)(i dont have a lot to say about the vees i dont really care for them)

Rant over! Leave NOW!!!!/j

[tortillamastersblog]

➶ The Bet | Kate Bishop ➴

Pairing: Kate Bishop x reader

Warnings: angst

Summary: Being known as the quiet and reserved student, you mind your own business and stay out of people’s way.

Kate Bishop is the exact opposite. Outgoing, bubbly, and loud, she’s the definition of a popular girl, so it comes as a surprise when she asks you out on a random Thursday afternoon.

Next Part | Masterlist

_______________________________________________

“Hey!”

An unfamiliar voice next to me makes me flinch before looking up from my notebook.

Standing right there, with sparkling eyes and a dopey grin on her face is Kate Bishop.

“Uh. . . Hi.” I cringe at my own awkwardness and look around to make sure no one is watching us.

What could Kate Bishop–popular, quirky, beloved-by-all Kate Bishop–possibly want from me? A nobody with only one friend and a knack for origami.

Seemingly unbothered by my hesitation, Kate plops down in the chair across the table. She smiles and puts her bag down, but she doesn’t take off her coat.

“Can I help you?” I ask politely, pulling my study material closer to my side of the table.

“Yes, actually.” She smirks and whispers conspiratorially, “You’re the only one who can help me.”

My eyebrows shoot up and I lean back in my chair. “Excuse me?”

Mistaking my surprise for offense, Kate’s eyes widen and she backtracks immediately. “No, wait—! That came out wrong.”

I cross my arms over my chest and bite the inside of my cheek to hide my growing smile.

We share some classes and have been in a couple of group projects before, but other than that we’ve never interacted. Have I noticed she’s cute? Yes. Is she charming? Definitely. Do I have a crush on her? Totally! No, absolutely not, but the way she’s all flustered and stumbling over her words at the moment is pretty endearing.

“I- I-“ she stutters and fidgets with her fingers, her cool and carefree demeanor replaced by nervousness. “Wow, this is not how I— You know what? I’m just going to go. . . Yep!”

She goes to stand up, red-faced and embarrassed, but I stop her. “No, hey. It’s okay. . . What do you want?”

“I—“ Blue eyes filled with uncertainty dart over my face. “I actually wanted to ask you something.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?” I ask, no longer hiding my smile.

Kate sighs and smiles tentatively as well. She takes another moment to gather her thoughts before saying, “As you may or may not know, we share a couple of classes and—“

I snort in amusement. “Yeah, I know”

“Right, and— Well, I kind of. . . like you—“

My eyes widen and heat crawls up the back of my neck. That is the last thing I ever expected to come out of her mouth, but here we are, I guess.

Kate is too busy fidgeting with her fingers to notice my delighted surprise and goes on talking.

“—but until now I’ve been too scared to talk to you, never mind ask you out and— Oh God, I’m rambling again. . .”

My smile softens and a warm tingling feeling settles into the pit of my stomach.

“Anyway.” She huffs and meets my gaze hesitantly. “I was wondering if you’d ever consider doing something with me. Well, not doing—“

“Kate.” I chuckle, interrupting her before she starts rambling again.

“Yeah?” She bites her bottom lip and furrows her eyebrows.

“Are you trying to ask me out?” She goes to say something, but I beat her to it. “Because if you are. . . my answer is yes.“

Her eyes widen and her jaw slackens. “Really?”

I smile sheepishly and scratch the back of my neck. “Really. I. . . kind of like you, too.”

Kate laughs in relief and jumps to her feet. “It’s settled then.” Her grin is so bright it’s almost blinding. “You and I are going on a date. How about tomorrow? After class? We could go to this cute coffee shop around the corner.”

Giddiness surges through me and I can’t help but nod eagerly. It’s been ages since I’ve been on a date, not only because my ex broke my heart a year ago and it’s taken me this long to get over it, but also because I’ve been too scared to get hurt again.

With Kate though, I’m not scared. She seems sweet and sincere, and I can’t wait to see where things go between us.

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” she says, grinning as she slings her bag over her shoulder.

“Yeah, see you.” I wave awkwardly and watch her leave the library with a dazed smile.

“So, you’re telling me you saw someone getting attacked by a crow in a park, and you did nothing?.” Kate laughs and I chuckle softly, taking another sip of my coffee.

“Well, yeah?! I didn’t want to be its next victim! Besides, that lady was fine once the crow left her alone.“ I try to reason, having just told Kate of the time I came across a crow attacking a woman during my run through a nearby park.

“I get that, but. . .you could have at least called for help!” She laughs even more incredulously and nudges me playfully.

“You expect me to call the cops on a crow?” I nudge her back.

“Well, no. . .” She smiles sheepishly and takes a sip of her own coffee.

I snort playfully. “Exactly.”

The cafe is quite busy, but Kate and I managed to secure a spot on the couch in the corner by the front window. It allows for the perfect view of the cafe’s interior and the street outside where people are rushing by wrapped in scarves and hats to ward off the autumn breeze.

“Hey, uh— I got you something,” I say after a moment of comfortable silence.

Kate sets down her coffee and sinks back into the couch with raised eyebrows. “Yeah?”

I nod and quickly look away to hide the redness creeping into my cheeks. I grab my bag from the floor and open it, rummaging around in it until I find what I’m looking for.

Either she’s going to like it, or she’ll hate it and think I’m a total nerd. . .

I swallow harshly and square my shoulders before holding out my hand. Sitting on my palm is a small origami rose head that I folded in class earlier.

I wasn’t actually planning on giving it to her, but then I thought Why not?

Eyebrows furrowing, Kate glances at me before taking it and inspecting it carefully.

She doesn’t say anything at first and I get the horrible impression that I shouldn’t have given it to her after all, but then she looks back up and asks, “You made this?”

I nod and bury my hands in my lap, trying to ignore the way my palm still tingles where her fingers brushed against it.

Adoration flickers over Kate’s face, and for a moment I’m filled with relief, but then something like regret shines in her eyes.

I frown and go to take back the rose, but Kate closes her hand around it and holds it against her chest.

“You know. . . all my life the people I love have always bought me everything I could ever dream of. A new car, a new bow, an apartment—everything.“

She meets my eyes and smiles sadly, her next words making my heart hurt for her. “But none of them ever put the thought and effort into giving me something that actually matters. Something that actually means something. Don’t get me wrong, I’m thankful for everything I have, but. . . You made this for me and I—“

I frown at the way her voice falters. “It’s nothing, Kate. It’s just a piece of paper that I—“

“No.” Her hand on my knee makes my brain short circuit for a second. “It’s not. Not to me, at least.”

I look at her, seeing the emotional turmoil in her eyes and smile shyly. “Okay. . . If you say so. I’m glad you like it.”

_______________________________________________

This will probably be a three-parter. Hope you guys liked it! :)

[genderqueerdykes]

I am entirely in the closet again about being a trans man because all of this "debate" about how we're all evil abusive liars who manipulated and deceived our way into the community to steal resources and oppress everyone. I hate it here.

the community is genuinely hostile towards trans men right now, so i can't blame you at all. like it's literally just everywhere. it's normal. it's literally seen as funny and cool and quirky to treat trans men like shit. to say that we're oppressing trans women by coming out and being men and being ourselves. to imply that we're all predators, that we all transition to gain male privilege, that all we're doing is transitioning to hurt women. to say that we're betraying women

it's disgusting. it's such a horrible way to look at other people. it's so deeply paranoid and untrusting. the fact that the most common rhetoric in the queer community right know is a cat hiss knee jerk reaction upon seeing masculinity and/or manhood is just ridiculous. there are so many ways to be a queer man why are we behaving like this?

kicking trans men and mascs doesn't help trans women any better. they're not "taking up limited resources". a bunch of new trans women aren't going to just spawn because those few transmascs stopped coming to groups and utilizing resources. men need those things too, whether or not people wanna accept it. trans men don't get paid as much as cis men. we still receive womens' wages in most places even if we pass. we don't have extra money or any extra resources by virtue of being men. we're usually pretty broke because nobody wants to hire an ftm tranny

it's not cool for people to proudly say they're scared of someone who isn't hurting them, but then publicly behead those people for saying they're uncomfortable with being stigmatized. stigmatizing trans manhood isn't going to accomplish anything. there's still going to be trans men. trying to talk us out of transitioning and being men won't always work. why are people even doing this to begin with?

i hope you're able to feel at peace with yourself sometime soon. you don't deserve to have to go back into the closet, but i completely understand why. even i've considered it because it's exhausting and people use it as a tool to abuse me and treat me like i'm a dumbass and just not listen to me. it's exhausting how badly people treat us and just don't give a fuck and think it's funny