#that conveys a very different message than i want it to

[hurtcomforted]

i have no idea what this movie is but he looks like such a mess (affectionate) in every photo i see from it

CHRIS EVANS on the set of "Materialists"

[snekdood]

i feel like this guy rn about "heart shaped box"

[kurzler]

in my opinion, many modern greek retellings/stories inspired by greek mythology don't fail because they're inaccurate. they fail because they have nothing new to say.

i don't mind changes to the original myths, as long as they make sense and they have a narrative purpose! i understand that making changes is sometimes necessary to convey a certain narrative, especially to modern audiences.

is epic the musical mythologically accurate? hell no! but the changes serve to tell a specific story and to convey a certain message. also, epic the musical is self aware about its "inaccuracies". and the music just bangs.

is hadestown accurate? no! does it make the change that I always dread, removing the kidnapping from the hades/persephone myth? yeah. but hadestown is barely about them, and it uses greek mythology as a "narrative frame" to tell a certain story. it has a point. it has a message.

what are stories like lore olympus trying to say? what is the messagge of the hundredth persephone/hades retelling? what are we supposed to take from them? "don't listen to your mother she's a bitch"? "mothers are irrational and you should forsake her for a man"? very feminist.

why are we still doing the medusa "feminist" retellings? it's BEEN done. too many times. and they're ALL the same. it's a worse crime than being bad: they are boring.

i'm tired of retellings that are just "what if this very famous story was THE OPPOSITE and the protagonist was an ASSHOLE the whole time and the villain was MISUNDERSTOOD and the real VICTIM" okay but why. why would that be the case. what's the point of the story you want to tell. or do you just want to use shock value.

of course, i dislike retellings that are so different from the myth that they go AGAINST the spirit/message of the original, because in that case what's even the point of retelling the myth? just tell an original story. but i would take stabbed poseidon and capitalist hades any day over the same basic story of medusa being a girlboss or demeter being bad because of... reasons?

tl;dr: stop being unoriginal and tell a good story. or at least an entertaining one. i beg you

[fishnapple]

What new skill should you learn

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost Book a reading with me - KO-FI (→ personal reading)

CARNELIAN

The most prominent one that I get is public speaking skills. Your usual way of speaking might not get you enough attention when you are in front of a crowd or talking to a large audience, even online one. May be your voice is too soft or sounds quite young or bubbly, or you don't like to share too much about yourself, your opinions. It can make you seem more approachable, but in situations that you need to assert yourself, to be taken seriously, then it can become a disadvantage. And when you are in those situations, you might over compensate by being defensive or rigid, trying to assert yourself more than necessary.

You need to develop a firmer tone, and the words you say, your body language should also convey a sense of authority. But it's not a battle for power and domination, you just need to make yourself more visible, to make your energy more solid and grounded. This will help you in situations that require exchanging ideas in a large group, delivering your message to many people, rallying, persuading, teaching, or simply telling a story.

Research more about social skills in a group setting, observe the people that you feel are popular or well respected, observe their body language, their posture, their tones in different kinds of conversations, their choices of words, their silence, etc. This may sound mechanical but if you treat this skill just like math or painting, instead of thinking that social skill is something innate, you will see that with appropriate observations and enough practice, you can achieve a certain level of proficiency. This will open more opportunities for you and raise your confidence.

CLEAR QUARTZ

The stone of Pluto, South node and North node, all are "standing up", they are trying to make a statement (each side of the crystal is very narrow, it can fall over with just a gust of wind, I normally couldn't replicate the same position). The theme is about changing the old and embracing a new mindset. I think it has to do with how you take care of your appearance, your style.

Right now, you seem to be staying in the safe zone when it comes to styling yourself, making yourself more beautiful. This might be due to restrictions in early childhood, traditional values, what society deems appropriate or trendy. You might not want to focus too much on appearance because it seems superficial or vain, or takes too much of your time and energy.

But doing so will rope you the chance to express yourself more truthfully. Beautify yourself not because of how you will be perceived, but because it's a way to show love for yourself. You look into a mirror, you feel happy, you want to compliment yourself, you feel that silly stray strand of hair is adorable, not thinking about how will everyone say, how you are not like someone.

So the advice for you here is to be more adventurous in styling, expand your knowledge about fashion and styling, explore yourself more , give yourself the freedom to experiment more, to rebel more. Creating a unique image, a "public persona" is not just for some celebrities, everyone can benefit from that. Because behind that seemingly surface action, is the journey of discovering your deeper self. As within so without.

The theme of transformation is also applied to learning new languages. The languages should be totally different from your mother tongue, giving you more chance to connect with people from various parts of the world.

OBSIDIAN

The phrase "navigating the world" appeared in my mind. I got several meanings from this. One is in the literal sense as driving a vehicle, going around, navigating the roads, so learning to drive a new kind of vehicle might be the skill you should learn, or even learn to swim or row a boat. There are lots of movements, travelling and moving around. You should be more active in the physical sense. But this is not really about exercise or going to the gym, it's about moving your body, being in various places, experiencing different things. Your life in this period needs lots of expansion and movements. You might feel that you don't have enough resources or energy to go on trips, or you're simply someone who doesn't like travelling. But it will make your life stagnant. Travelling might not seem like a skill, but it is, all the planning, packing, preparation and the ability to adapt to the new place, all or these take skills.

Another one is navigating the complicated social construct. Maybe you feel it's hard to connect to people, there might be walls and the feeling of solitude and not fitting in, that there is something fundamentally different about you. The people that you managed to get closer to (it's likely that they approached you first) will stay close to you for a long time, you have no trouble maintaining a connection. The trouble lies in initiating or forming the connection. There might be an ego here that doesn't want to show their vulnerable side. Silly jokes and banters might seem childish to you. But learning to have fun in a social setting is much more rewarding than you think. Allow yourself to be a child, learn how to tell a story. Debating skills might also be worthwhile for you to learn, learn how to state your opinions clearly and defend your stance.

This group is strangely hard to read, I feel a certain resistance. You might feel that your personality isn't suitable for these kinds of things or you think it would take too much effort and work. You also don't want to imitate what other people are doing. Another reason might be that you haven't figured out what you like to do yet. But that's okay, everything takes time, trials and errors are normal, don't give up on the first try.

TIGER'S EYE

This one is an anti-consumerism movement. You might want to learn how to mend and sew clothes. And not just learn for yourself, but later will you spread the awareness to everyone, or even open workshops related to this.

Running after trends, constantly being bombarded by ads about shiny things that we don't actually need. Basic clothes with good quality cost too much while trendy ones don't last for more than a year. Maybe it's time for you to take matters in your own hands. Learning how to sew clothes might take time and effort, and sometimes, the cost is not small either. But you will be more free to explore styles that you like, create things that you're actually comfortable in. Not many people can proudly display their achievements like someone who makes their own clothes. This is also a great activity to relieve stress and help you practice being patient, especially if you're someone who is quick to get irritated or not very meticulous. It can soften your energy more and make it more focused.

Another way to practice is martial art or self-defense. You have lots of energy that needs to be channelled into various activities, those that keep your body busy.

You might also want to research more about the traditional spiritual and occult practices of your culture, or some traditional crafts in your family, learning about the legacy of our ancestors. There will be surprising knowledge hidden in them that you didn't notice before. You could feel resistant or disagree with many traditional teachings but don't disregard them completely. We can always learn something new from the old and the new always contain the old.

LABRADORITE

This is something that you feel out of your depth and uncomfortable doing, or something that you like but want to keep it a secret, for fear of judgement or obstruction.

I heard dancing and singing. But there's a feeling of gatekeeping. Some people consider these kinds of activities only for those who are gifted and have the resources to pursue them. These skills are put on a pedestal that stops people from approaching them in a more casual way.

Why should you learn these skills? It's to let your inner child be free and out into the open. It's also a way to learn how to control your body, discipline it so it can flow freely, it helps you connect more with your sensuality. Our body is an instrument of life, capable of many miracles, you won't know it unless you let it interact and move with the world around it.

There are various genres for you to explore, but I see traditional instruments or movements combined with modern ones.

Nurturing life such as gardening is another skill you should learn. It helps you be more in sync with nature, you will need to observe the natural cycle of life, to care for each individual and to form a bond with them. If you don't have the space or resources for gardening, maybe try to study more about nature, subjects about biology and chemistry, the ecosystem of forests, oceans, deserts etc. You will be more appreciative of the nature world.

CITRINE

Your energy right now seems to be rigid and doesn't flow properly. There's stress about your health, it's hard to relax, you don't feel comfortable in your body. Maybe you've been too busy lately, your mind is overloaded and your movement is restricted. So you need to learn something that can help you destress, loosen up the hard restrictions around you, and connect more with a softer, more gentle energy. You could call it your feminine energy, regardless of your gender. The feminine energy is within all of us, in your case, it's more hidden. Your loving, more nurturing side could be considered as weaknesses by the people around you. Or, on the contrary, those traits are expected of you forcefully, to the point that your own interpretation of them are buried deep within, you haven't had a chance to actually understand and connect with it.

I think meditation or any form of practice that can quiet the mind and put you in the flow will be good for you. Making art could be one form of it, yoga, intuitive dancing, Qigong, roller skating. Slow, mindful movements or wild, frantic ones just like a child running around, all the while maintaining your balance. You can temporarily forget about yourself, your worries, your responsibilities for a while with these kinds of activities.

Learning to play an instrument can also achieve the same kind of effects. A flute or a lyre.

You should be around children more, learn how to take care of them, how to teach them. Working, being with children can have a totally different energy and requires a different set of skills. I think you would make a great teacher because you have a very protective energy that children would feel safe around you. And in turn, they help you soften up and bring out your compassionate side more.

[jamminvroomvroom]

everything.

ln x fem!reader

in which you’re his best friend until you’re something more

hi! here you go lmao. probs the fluffiest thing i’ve ever written and i am obsessed with the concept! thank you for being here and baring with me - i loved writing this one and i’d love to hear what you think! huge shoutout to my girlies @mcmuppet and @lavenderlando ily both!

songs that set the mood: pink and white by frank ocean, daylight by harry styles, angel by finneas, enchanted by taylor swift, hate to be lame by lizzy mcalpine

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, language, friends to lovers brain rot, slight corruption kink, readers first time, qatar angst

6.4k words

“do you wanna talk about it?” you whispered softly, your hand resting on lando’s sagged shoulder.

your eyes were fixed on the third place plaque on his table in front of you, his very much fixed on the floor.

“no.” his reply was short and sweet, his tone conveying exactly how deflated he was.

you’d only flown in to qatar this morning, the october sun hitting you hard as you walked into the paddock, drastically different to the london climate you’d grown accustomed to. lando had all but begged you to come, your evening before spent on the phone, and you knew that he needed a friend, otherwise he never would have asked you to fly halfway around the world.

friends. that’s what you were.

you’d hugged him tight and told him that the weekend had to get better, and then his teammate put it on pole and got his first win. so, yeah, maybe it wasn’t going to get better and not even the podium could cheer him up.

his radio messages had hurt your heart, your chest aching as he self deprecated in the cockpit. he owned his mistakes, sure, but he’d taken it a step too far and you knew you had a job to do. you’d do anything, quite literally anything, to cheer him up.

you’d always found a way to be there for eachother, your friendship spanning five long years after you’d knocked a coffee over a guy you quickly recognised as the new mclaren driver. both nineteen and awkward as hell, you’d um-ed and er-ed and danced around one another in the busy pret in central london, chucking tissues at him, attempting to mop up the frothy mess all over his white sweatshirt.

eventually you’d just burst into laughter, lando immediately following suit. your cheeks were hurting from smiling at the curly haired stranger, intrigued by the very way his faced moved when he laughed, and he’d looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky, not like someone that had just destroyed a brand new hoodie.

and just like that, a connection was born.

you’d gotten used to having a friend for only half the year, but he never let you feel the distance. paddock passes often fell through your letter box and you could usually be located in the background of his streams when he was home long enough to do them, the amount of times you’d been wrongfully accused of being his girlfriend a list as long as your arm. even in those moments of awkwardness, friendship prevailed and you both managed to crack up together about the conspiracy that you were more than friends.

and what an intriguing conspiracy it was.

“we should get you back to the hotel, you need to get some rest.” you told him, standing from the sofa and offering him your hand.

lando grabbed it, squeezing, his own special way of telling you he was grateful for your presence, and let you pull him up. as he tried to walk towards the door, you stopped him, hands on his shoulders. you wanted to shake him, tell him how fucking great he was. you didn’t think he’d appreciate that after an intense session in the car.

“hey, look at me. you got this, okay?” you smiled reassuringly, managing to get the smallest crack back from him, his lips upturning ever so slightly. something in his eyes told you that you’d succeeded, a small glimmer of an emotion that you didn’t know how to unpack.

friends.

that’s what you were.

-

you tried to ignore how touchy lando was being. you figured he just needed some comfort, physical touch not out of bounds in your friendship, but a new level had been reached.

on the entire walk through the paddock to his car, his hand sat comfortably on the small of your back, despite the endless amount of cameras pointed at you. his hand skimmed your thigh in the car, accidentally, you told yourself, and you had to avert your eyes when his hand graced your headrest as he reversed out of the parking space. knowing that he needed you in qatar so desperately that he’d flown you out was one thing, the way he was treating you once you got there was something else.

he’d opened your door when you pulled up at the hotel valet, helping you out of the car, his hand tucked in yours for a second longer than necessary. once again, his hand seemed to be glued to your lower back the whole way to the elevator.

the ding of the lift had you both shuffling out onto your floor, trailing towards your rooms in a heavy silence, something more left unsaid in the air.

you reached your door first, coming to a stop and shuffling around in your bag for your keycard.

“um, i need to be at the track early tomorrow. breakfast?” lando asked.

you turned to look at him, nodding your head profusely.

“of course, just drop me a message and i’ll come down and meet you.” you affirmed, your fingers finally grasping the piece of plastic that had, of course, fallen to the very bottom of your tardis of a tote bag.

you expected him to leave, but he lingered, as if there was something else on his mind.

“you okay?” you raised an eyebrow, unlocking your door. lando seemed to snap out of it then, awkwardly running a hand through his curls that had taken a brutal hit from the humidity. you liked the look on him, nonetheless.

“yeah, i- yeah, i think i just need some sleep.”

“okay, well, goodnight. let me know if you need anything.” you disappeared through the door then, the tension getting the better of you. you slumped against the shut door, wondering what he so clearly wanted to say.

-

the clock read 1:32am on your bedside.

a faint tapping had woken you up, and you groggily scanned the room, trying to find the source of the noise. you deduced that it was coming from your door, letting out a groan as you threw the cosy comforter off and trudged towards the disturbance.

you cracked it open, peeking through the gap and coming face to face with your best friend.

“lando?” you croaked, opening the door further.

“i’m sorry, can’t sleep. can i come in? it’s okay if not, i just didn’t know what to do.” he sounded so shy, something you didn’t recognise in the man stood before you, and you quickly swung the door open, ushering him inside.

“come, sit.” you waved for him to follow you across the room to the foot of your bed. he sat down beside you, the mattress dipping.

you patted your lap and he instantly knew what to do, laying down with his head in your lap. it’s something he did quite frequently when you were sprawled on his sofa at home, watching a shitty movie that neither of you were really paying attention to. you’d often be looking at him, praying he didn’t notice, and he’d be playing with your fingers, tracing the palm of your hand.

you couldn’t help yourself, running your hand through his curls. you didn’t mean to, stomach instantly twisting with embarrassment, but it was quickly twisting with something else. his eyes fluttered shut, a low groan falling from the back of his throat. it made your thighs clench, and he must have noticed, the tiniest smirk on his face.

“you okay?” lando asked, his eyes still shut, a look of relaxation finally on his face.

you coughed awkwardly.

“yeah, sorry. are you comfy?” you said teasingly, trying to cut the growing tension in the room.

“i am now, could fall asleep here.”

“you can, you know.” you whispered. his eyes flew open. your heart was hammering in your chest. this was new territory and you were worried you’d fucked up. sleepovers were also a norm, but one of you usually retired to a guest room, not the other side of eachothers beds.

“you want me to stay?” his voice rose in surprise.

“well, i mean, you can if you want, like, there’s space and-“ you rambled.

“do you want me to stay?” he repeated.

“is it gonna help?” you questioned cautiously.

“yes.” the confidence in which he replied did something to you.

“then stay.”

you crawled up the mattress, falling back into the place you’d so comfortably occupied just minutes before. you laid so still, watching with quiet curiosity as he slipped his hoodie off. his shirt came with it ever so slightly, riding up over his back, and you had to pry your eyes away, the ache between your thighs still ever present.

what on earth were you doing, allowing your best friend to crawl into bed with you? emotions were running so high, but it felt like a switch had been flipped ever since you hit the tarmac in qatar. every look, every touch was fuelled by something different to what it had been before and you weren’t sure if it was a good thing or not.

lando turned towards you, making his way back over to the bed. he looked apprehensive, as if he was thinking the same thoughts as you, wondering if there was any logic in what was about to happen. he seemed to come to the conclusion that this was, in fact, happening, crawling into bed beside you.

“is this okay?” lando breathed into the darkness of the room, his hand brushing yours. you were both as still as planks, mere centimetres separating you, the only light coming from the lamp beside the bed.

“yeah,” you took a deep breath, preparing for the words that were about to come tumbling out. “i’ve just never done this before.” you spoke quickly, sucking in another breath as you finished.

“you’ve never…”

“i’ve never shared a bed… like this.”

“like what?”

“with a… a guy?” your anxiety riddled words came out more like a question than an answer.

“oh. oh.” it seemed to dawn on lando then. “so, you’ve never… oh. i mean i can go if you’re uncomfortable.”

“lando, no, i just wanted you to know. i’m always comfortable with you.” you said, quietly baring your soul to him.

you weren’t sure why you’d basically told him you were a virgin. it held no relevance, he was just here to sleep, for some friendly comfort. he was not here for any other reason. and yet here you were, spilling the beans, all over the bed you found yourself sharing.

“i didn’t come here to, you know. i just needed you.”

you tried to ignore the pang in your chest and the annoying, minuscule butterfly springing to life in your belly.

“god, yeah i know! i didn’t think that you wanted to, well i mean not with me because why would you want me like that anyway, i get why you’re here, lando.” you rambled into the empty air. you heard yourself, groaning in embarrassment and dragging the cover over your face. lando laughed, pulling it back so he could see you again.

he was leaning over you, perched on his side, resting on his elbow.

“trust me, i’m more than happy with any part of yourself that you wanna give me.”

“don’t tease me, lando.” you scoffed. he was joking, right? right?

“i’m not! i promise, this is the one place i want to be.”

“why? why with me? i mean you could’ve called max. all he does is stream when you’re not home, think he misses you.” you were half joking, half deadly serious.

“come on, it’s you. it’s just… its been so hard this year, being away from you so much more. and then you came all the way here…” lando trailed off, averting eye contact.

you turned on your side to face him, placing your hand over his affectionately.

“you needed me.”

“exactly. i needed you. you.”

he gave you a look, one that you didn’t recognise, but you understood what it meant. it said more than anything had done since this confusingly beautiful interaction began. you got it, then, why you were here.

“lando-“

“i know that i shouldn’t tell you this and i can’t just spring this on you in the middle of the night, but i-“

“lando!”

“what?”

“kiss me.”

and god, he kissed you. the air was sucked out of your lungs, dragged out of you by the way he put his hands on your body, so urgent.

you sunk back into the mattress, his body over yours, a hand cupping your cheek while the other rested on your waist, stroking the skin there, exposed from your ridden up top. your hands were in his curls, and you revelled in the way that you could shamelessly touch them now.

he paused for a second, nose brushing yours, breathless and grinning down at you, a knowing smile that was so beautiful that it rendered you speechless.

“you have no idea how long i’ve waited for this.” lando breathed, scanning your face as if he was trying to take it all in. you, panting beneath him, coy smile, cheeks flushed. you’d never looked so gorgeous to him.

you leaned in to kiss him again, slower this time, relishing in the moment. you were lost in him, thinking back to the very first time you’d locked eyes and how you never thought it would come to this. this, the way he was holding you, was the best surprise.

lando pulled away, peppering your flushed cheeks with kisses, a dazed giggle passing your swollen lips.

he flopped onto his side, grinning at the ceiling mindlessly. you hadn’t seen him smile that big all weekend.

“are you tired?” you whispered, lips brushing his cheek, his light stubble rough against you. you wondered how it would feel elsewhere, scratching over your bare skin.

“no.”

“then why did you stop?” you asked, the words falling off your tongue slowly, sinking all over him like honey. you felt the way he tensed up, the suggestion that laced the seemingly innocent question making you tingle.

“i didn’t come here for that.” he reiterated.

“and i didn’t let you in for that. but here we are.” you weren’t ashamed of what you were asking, the moment was right, the one, and you knew it.

“it’s too soon.” lando was apprehensive. he was always overly protective of you, previously as his friend, but this, god, this was an entirely different ball park and he was proceeding with caution, against every natural instinct in his body screaming at him.

“says who?”

“it’s your first. it needs to be special.”

“everything about this is better than i could have ever imagined.”

“are you sure you want it to be me?” there it was again, those unrecognisable nerves that made everything inside of you flutter.

“lando, there is no one else i could ever want to do this with more than i want to do it with you. i want it to be you.”

“but… now? are you sure? i don’t want you to regret this.”

“the only thing i regret is that this didn’t happen sooner.”

“one last time. i just need to hear it one last time.”

“i want you, lando.”

and with that, the air changed, charged with a different kind of tension. lando pulled you on top of him, hands firm on your body, the action itself gentle. you steadied yourself, hands on his shoulders, his resting on your waist.

“can i take this off?” he tugged at the hem of your shirt. you nodded profusely. “words, sweetheart. i need you to use your words.” lando cupped your jaw as he said it, squeezing ever so slightly, enough to turn you into putty in his hands.

“please. yes.” you said shakily.

he smiled softly, slowly peeling the material off of your body, up over your head and tossed carelessly onto the floor. he kept his eyes on yours, despite the fact you were now left bare, aside from the white cotton panties that separated you both. he pawed at your sides, kneading gently at your soft hips.

“we’re gonna start slow, okay? gonna take my time with you.” he muttered, eyes on yours before they trailed slowly down, across your face, neck, collarbone, further and further until he was taking all of you in. he began to stroke the underside of your breast with his thumb, watching the way your body tensed under his feather-like touch.

“okay.” you choked out, head tipping back as he placed a kiss to the base of your throat.

his kiss trailed further down your body, peppered in the valley of your breasts, and then you stopped breathing, the air caught in your throat because he was looking at you, really, truly looking at you, as his tongue found your nipple. you couldn’t take your eyes off of him, not when he was looking at you like that, not when he was making you feel this good already.

lando pulled away, just for a second, just so that he could shift you from his lap onto his thigh. he was still fully clothed beneath you, totally in control, and you craved him in a way you didn’t know was humanly possible, so much so that you didn’t need the encouragement he was giving you to start rolling your hips, pussy grinding down on his covered thighs, the friction of your underwear driving you insane.

“oh, baby. you want me so badly, don’t you? should’ve asked me sooner. m’gonna make you feel so good.” his hands were on your hips, guiding you backwards and forwards on him.

“it feels so- oh, god.” you whimpered, fingers tangling in his curls, back arching further into him as your thighs clenched around his. he licked over your collarbone oh so slowly, a shiver running down your taut spine.

and then he was kissing you again, tongue slow over yours, his fingertips surely leaving marks where he was controlling your pace. the kiss was filthy, untameable, and you found yourself dragging against him slower, harder.

“i need you.” you panted, forehead falling on his shoulder as you pulled away from his lips, goosebumps pricking your sweat slicked skin. you were so close to an orgasm, desperate to feel him everywhere.

“i want you to come for me like this first, okay? can you do that for me, baby?” he cooed, bouncing his leg ever so slightly. “look at me.” and you did, somehow mustering the strength to pull yourself back up and find his darkened eyes.

you were a mess of curses when you let go, your body convulsing, collapsing into him as you came. you were throbbing on his thigh, one glance down at where you were grinding against him displaying your slick. his arms went around your body, flipping you onto your back so that you were resting against the mattress.

“you did so well, baby.” lando crooned, resting over you on his forearms. you stared up at him in awe, blinking away the haze. “do you want more?”

“i want everything.” you breathed, pulling him against you. you smoothed your hands over his shirt until you reached the hem, dragging it up over his back. he helped you take it off, and then it was lost to the room. you grabbed at his shoulder blades, smooth, muscular planes of bronzed skin so warm under your touch. you felt insatiable, like nothing was enough, totally intoxicated by him and everything he was managing to make you feel.

lando’s hand slid down your body, searching for the band of your underwear. when he reached his destination, he toyed with the lacy edges, letting them snap against the pudge of your belly, teasing you. you bucked your hips, frustrated, and he used the opportunity to cup your pussy, feeling where you’d soaked through the cotton. the groan he let out was carnal, animalistic, almost needy. he could feel all of you, how you ached and dripped, how you needed the everything that you’d requested.

“you’re so fucking good for me, god.” lando almost slurred his words, voice lower than you’d ever heard it. you keened at the sound, pushing your hips further into him.

lando didn’t give you much time to dwell on it, mouth latching onto your underwear where it met the crease of your thigh. he was so close, so tantalising close to where you were aching for him and you were just about levitating off the bed when his teeth grazed your inner thigh. you couldn’t see him looking at you, losing it, inhibitions out the window. your eyes were already squeezed shut when he began mouthing over your cloth-covered pussy, spit further ruining the sodden material.

“take them off.” you cried out, tugging hard at his curls that you hadn’t even realised you were clutching for dear life. and lando was a good listener, because he complied immediately, tearing the lace down your legs like a starved man.

his tongue was on you then, everywhere all at once, running through your folds and over your clit. you didn’t know if you were dead or alive, a different kind of pleasure than anything you’d ever experienced coursing hot through your veins. lando switched between long, slow licks, his tongue flat against you, and rapid kitten licks, burying his face in your cunt.

everything was moving in slow motion, your hands grasping frantically at anything you could reach; his curls, the sheets, his shoulders. you could barely make out what he was saying, his words muffled, lost to the soft flesh between your legs. it seemed to echo, every lick, stroke, word. you snapped out of it, finally, when he pulled away.

“more? you want my fingers, baby? gonna get you nice and ready for me.” you just nodded, voice lost to the air of the room.

one arm locked around your thigh, pinning you still, and the other snaked up your leg until he reached the mess between your thighs. he took a moment to take it in, how wet you were, how fucked out you looked, knowing full well he must have looked the same, unhinged as he gave into your shared desire that he’d tried his best to keep hidden. he’d never felt more stupid in his life for holding back, as he took in the ethereal delight sprawled under his touch.

when lando slid the first finger in, your stomach twisted deliciously. he watched you carefully, searching for discomfort but all he could find was sheer bliss, written all over your face as clear as daylight. he worked the digit in and out, nice and slow, curling against your walls. he could feel how tight you were, clamping around just one finger and he thought his head was gonna explode. he added another finger, watching the way you took him in, twisting his fingers.

“are you gonna let go for me again, sweetheart?” lando punctuated his words by putting his mouth back on you, teeth grazing your clit as he sucked.

you were thrashing, a silent scream building from the fire in your belly. you could just about make out the way he was spurring you on, his mouth running as you spilled over the edge, covering his fingers. you saw white, maybe god, ears ringing, and when you finally mustered the energy to look at him, you could have come for a third time. lando looked feral, lips red and coated in everything you had to offer him. his eyes were glazed over, a hazy grey that sent a jolt through your body, the aftershocks of the orgasm setting in.

“christ.” was all you could sigh out. a lazy smile painted your face, your eyes blown out, everything a little blurry. everything except him.

you could feel him scaling up your body, crawling over you until he was level with your face. he placed a kiss to your throat, your jaw and finally your lips; when he pulled away all that was left was shared giddy smile, both of you suddenly shy. you couldn’t stop the roaming of your hands, exploring all the parts of him that you could reach. when you found the waist band of his joggers, your hand grazing his abs as you did, he sucked all of the air out of the room, a sharp inhalation making him tense up.

“you still want all of me?” he breathed, his shaky breath fanning your face. lando was obsessed with hearing you say it, obsessed with how you wanted him as much as he needed you.

“all of you. lando, this is… you’re perfect.” you admitted, lips brushing his. your hands pushed the material down his hips, nails raking over him as you did. he couldn’t seem to wait any longer, kicking them off the rest of the way, his boxers quickly following suit.

you couldn’t help but stare, all of him bare against all of you. your nipples brushed his chest, his hands holding you close, your hands threaded through his curls. it was like you were sussing each other out, eyes watching lips and hands getting lost. you stayed like that for a moment, pressed together, closer and closer, until he was slotted between your legs like he was coming home. lando searched your face one last time, hunting for a smidge of discomfort.

“are you ready for me?” he whispered.

“yes.”

the initial stretch burned, but he slid into you smoothly, his cock slipping through your folds with ease. he felt you clamp down on him, his head thrown back as far as it could go, thick neck exposed to you. you bit down on his shoulder, where it met the base of his throat, trying to mask the gasp of pleasure that sent your eyes rolling back in your head. he grunted at the sensation, enjoying the sting.

“oh, fuck.” he was shuddering, trying to keep himself in check.

“don’t, oh god,” you started, meeting the roll of his hips. “don’t hold back.”

“we gotta go easy.”

“i don’t want easy.” you tightened around him then, and he saw stars.

“you’re so fucking good.” lando groaned, an edge of excitement in his voice, and then he unleashed everything that he’d held back. how much he wanted you, and a bittersweet weekend of frustration versus success came crashing down and he couldn’t do anything except give himself to you exactly how you wanted.

lando was a delicious weight on top of you, the drag of his hips slow, meeting yours hard. the pressure made you lightheaded, his body moving against yours like the thick drip of honey, smooth and sweet. you couldn’t make sense of it, of how fucking good he felt, grinding deeper and deeper into you like he’d found buried treasure. the overstimulation had your third orgasm building nice and quick, waves of pleasure making you dizzy.

“you like it like this? like when i fuck you nice and hard?” yes you did. “don’t think i can go without this now, you know that? such a good fucking girl.” you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, just let his words wash over you. “so beautiful, taking me so well.”

you couldn’t process that this was your best friend lando. this was a different person, it had to be. yet, somehow, it made sense that the man you knew, the one who spoke his mind, mischievous and troublesome, would be like this, a god above you as he fucked deeper into you with every thrust. he was filthy and gentle, brutal and sweet. it didn’t make sense, but it also just did.

“are you gonna come for me? one more time, baby. need to feel that perfect fucking pussy.” well, his wish was your command, because then you were gushing. the one thing you could feel was him, none of your other senses worked, you couldn’t see past the tears that fell, couldn’t get any words past your lips. maybe you screamed, you weren’t exactly sure.

lando was kissing you everywhere. each hip bone was met with his lips, your stomach, over your ribs, breasts, clavicle, neck. your face was covered in kisses next, your cheeks, forehead, a dainty peck to your nose.

“can you look at me?”

your eyes cracked open slowly, the exhaustion hitting as you came back to reality.

“was that okay?” there he was again, this shy version of lando that you couldn’t get used to.

“okay? lando that was…” you shook your head in awe. “that meant everything to me.”

he smiled then, that gorgeous, gorgeous smile, the one with the crinkles by his eyes and his teeth on full display. you melted.

“me too. you’re fucking beautiful. so, so fucking beautiful. should’ve told you sooner.” he murmured.

his words made you think, way too hard for your current state. what happened next? lando had said some things, some pretty big things that you didn’t know how to comprehend. it was crazy, how scared you were to bring it back up to him, considering he’d just been inside of you.

“sooner?” you whispered, hardly audible. lando was midway through tucking you both into bed, pulling your flushed, naked body into his own under the duvet.

“yes. a lot sooner.” he replied, not a trace of doubt in his voice.

‘how much sooner?’ you thought to yourself, unable to stay awake any longer to agonise over it, your dreams haunted by the way he touched you so well. it was magnificent to fall asleep in his arms, and you couldn’t help yourself from wondering when it would happen again.

-

you woke up tangled with him, fingers stroking your cheek, smoothing your hair out of your eyes.

lando was always so warm, but now his tanned skin radiated sunshine, a beacon of light in your bed. you smiled, eyes still shut, shielding yourself from the streaks of light casting over the room from the crack in the curtains.

“what time is it?” you croaked, bringing a hand to your eyes to rub away the sleep.

“gone eleven. i need to go, baby.”

baby.

you hadn’t gotten a chance to take my notice of the things he’d called you last night, too caught up in the way he played with your body. now that you heard it, in the calm after the storm, it made you swoon.

“already?” you tried to hide your disappointment, not quite ready to detangle yourself from him.

“need to get to the track. i think i’m already late. i just wanted to be here when you woke up.” lando sounded so soft, not as groggy as you, and you wondered how long he’d been awake, watching the soft rise and fall of your chest.

“thank you.” you knew that you’d have spiralled waking up alone, and you were immensely grateful that he’d stayed.

lando began to get up, wincing at your whine of protest.

“i’m sorry. i’ll have someone pick you up later, okay? i’ll see you soon, i promise.”

you knew he had to work hard today, knew how much analysis he needed to do before the race. he was starting further back than anyone would have liked, and he had something to prove as well, oscar starting too close to the front for lando’s liking. there were places to make up and hard work to be done to get back to the front.

“don’t apologise. i hope it goes smoothly today.” you smiled at him, watching him collect his long forgotten clothes. you were entranced by the way his body moved, the lines and shapes that tensed and rippled as he dressed himself.

“i’ll message you.” he promised, creeping back over to the bed. you weren’t sure what to expect, but the soft kiss to your lips, almost apprehensive on his part, could have killed you off, your heart pounding.

your grinned like a fool when the door shut behind him.

-

the shower was burning hot, loosening up your muscles. you cleaned yourself slowly, examining your body, the same one that you’d given to lando. he’d taken you apart, piece by piece, and put you back together, the traces of him that he’d left behind delectably apparent.

you followed the trail of marks he’d left, starting with the love bite below your right breast that you couldn’t even remember him leaving, making your way to the litter of fingerprints that were tattooed into your hips. your fingertips ghosted over your swollen lips, the kiss that he’d left at the junction between your neck and your shoulder, reminiscing the evening. you seemed to ache everywhere, the dull pain setting into your bones so nicely.

you prayed it would happen again. you felt like it would, everything between you had changed now, changed from any possible return to the norm. you wanted it to change, you couldn’t fathom the idea of staying friends when the lines had blurred like this, when he’d kissed you so deeply, touched you so intimately.

the shower was much needed, refreshing your body that was now tainted by him in the best way. you tried to keep a clear head while you got yourself ready, taking your time to make yourself presentable to the paddock. the time of your departure was looming, the pink and white sunset outside your window indicating that the race was only a few hours away. the air had cooled slightly, and you knew you needed to make your way to the lobby.

your phone dinged in your hand as you were packing your essentials into your bag. you glanced down at the device, unruly smile gracing your face.

see you soon, the text read, an orange love heart punctuating the short but sweet text. it was safe to say that the butterflies in your belly were well and truly alive.

-

the screen beeped as you scanned your paddock pass, and you slipped through the gate, making your way into the paddock. it was beautiful in qatar, they’d outdone themselves with this structure, the glass ceilings and jungle of greenery an expression of wealth and elegance.

you made a beeline for the mclaren garage, greeting lando’s pr officer who smiled warmly at you. you recognised oscar smirking as you appeared in the garage, and as you got closer you realised why.

“nice to see you. looking for lando?” his monotonous voice held an amused twang.

“hey oscar, great job last night!” you said, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “yeah, is he around here somewhere?”

“yeah he’s just doing press i think. extra spring in his step today.” oscar gave you a knowing look, one that made you blush.

“what do you know?” you deadpanned, fighting back laughter.

“i know that this was a long time coming.” he smiled, and then he was gone, lost to the bustle of the garage.

you stood there, probably in the way, lost in thought about what oscar had just said. he was right, this was a long time coming.

you jumped a bit when a hand landed on your waist, relaxing instantly into lando’s body when he pressed himself against you, head on your shoulder.

“i’m so glad you’re here.” he whispered, pressing a secret kiss under your ear, and then he, too, was gone, before you could even react.

your nerves were shot, ushered to the back of the garage where you found a headset. you chewed your nails, anxious about it all. the race, the changes that you were surely coming. you wanted it, wanted everything from him that he’d give you, willing to commit to all of it, to him. the distance, borrowed time, chaos of his world. last night had changed everything and you couldn’t have asked for more.

eventually the lights went out and the fight was underway. you found your hands clasped together, sweating in the dry heat and the anxiety. you clapped every time he made an overtake, storming through the field. when he made it into p3, picking the pace up on oscar, the nerves resurged and you prayed for a clean end to this race.

lando’s radio messages flooded your ears, and your leg bounced uncontrollably, your shoe slapping against the floor.

“be sensible, lando.” you muttered under your breath, resting your chin on your tightly clasped hands. he would be on the podium, but you knew it wasn’t enough for him, it never was. would you be enough for him?

eventually he agreed to hold position, thank fuck, and you could breathe again. he’d driven a beautiful recovery drive, bringing the car onto the podium, and you rushed out with the team to congratulate him. you lingered at the back of the pack behind the metal barriers, watching in quiet admiration as he jumped out of the car. he slapped oscar on the back, hugging his younger teammate before bounding towards the team. his head was darting around as if he was looking for something, but you couldn’t make it out with his helmet still on. and then the helmet came off and it became clear.

he was looking for you.

lando pulled away from a hug with a mechanic, leaning over the barrier right in front of you. you gravitated towards him, somehow moving through the swarm of team members until you were pressed against the metal too. he was beaming, eyes brighter than they had been all working weekend, and then his hands were on you. the hug he pulled you into was tight and you clung to one another for a moment, unbothered by his damp race suit, or the tickle of his sweat slicked curls.

the kiss he pressed to your cheek was far less secret than the one in the garage, so was the one he pressed to your forehead, but the one he pressed to your lips, as quick as it may have been, was the one that really took the cake. you were blushing when he pulled back, a mischievous grin on his face. you shook your head in disbelief at his boldness, unable to tame your bewildered smile.

“what are you doing for dinner, baby?” he called out to you as he walked away. the podium high had clearly set in.

nothing, you mouthed back, not quite confident enough to shout across parc ferme.

“good, we’re going on a date.” lando winked and then he was gone, pulled into the chaos of post race duties.

tears pricked your eyes when he stood on the podium, a much happier man than the one you found when you’d arrived. you couldn’t put it into words, how one night had changed everything, giving you everything you didn’t realise you wanted.

then again, lando was always good at beating expectations.

-

hehe the end

-

taglist

had to remove some tags that aren’t working! let me know if you wanna be added or removed xo

@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @turningxstrange @rachstash @infinitebells @multilovebot @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @yeolsbubbles @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @organasith @micks-afterglow @blueflorals @juno-1610 @lqvesoph @wilmasvensson @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @h0e-xoxo @mattxxamryli @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3

[remina-mina]

First years and how they ended up at Ramshackle (Pomefiore)

Epel

"It's not like you to zone out in potions class." "... Vil just has been working me to bone recently, don't worry" "I wasn't worried but.. a good sleep schedule is important to maintain a good performance in classes"

If someone asked Epel when he started sleeping over at Ramshackle he'd tell'em to mind their business. But if he was feeling generous he'd lie and tell them it started during the VDC but even he knows thats not quite the whole truth.

The pristine walls of Pomefiore are beautiful, undeniably so, nevertheless after his adventure to STYX and Yuu and Grim's return to Ramshackle he can't help the sickness in his stomach as he wanders the halls.

This sickness is different from the resigned annoyance he'd felt at the start of the year. Different from loneliness that would grasp onto his bones and twist itself until he found himself awake the next morning. No, this was more dangerous and thorny than that.

His feet carry him to the Pomefiore gardens where he'd spent the past couple nights reciting his unique magic and practicing until dawn. He needs to be ready for whatever may come. He needs to be stronger or else...

If he practices just a couple more times then surely, surely, the mangled unnatural limbs of phantoms will leave his nightmares, the sound of screams will leave him. If he tires himself out then his nights will no longer be sleepless. Just one more time-

"Epel... You are aware that curfew was 4 hours ago" A stern voice cuts through the garden. "Vil-san... I.. woke up to get water" Epel mumbles. He can't even bring himself to look Vil in the eye. Epel doesn't even know what he's saying. Does he even care anymore? "Water from the garden hose?" He doesn't even need to look at Vil to imagine the way his brows furrow just enough to convey his disappointment while avoiding wrinkles. "Follow me." Vil doesn't give Epel the chance to respond before dragging him along the path out of Pomefiore. Soon they are standing in front of the gate to Ramshackle. "Why did'ja bring me here?" Epel turns to Vil and looks at him for the first time that night. He realizes that he let his accent slip and braces himself for the lecture, but no lecture comes. "I am simply fulfilling a request."

Before he can question him, Yuu steps out from Ramshackle and calls out to him. When he turns to say goodnight to Vil, he finds him already walking back to the dorm and takes that as a sign to head into Ramshackle.

To his shock he finds Ace, Deuce, and Jack already inside, sitting on makeshift beds on the lounge floor. There was already a bed set up for him too.

He half-expects them to force him to answer questions, like why was he awake but no questions come. When he finally gets a good look at everyone he sees a burning, they all want to be stronger, they all want to conquer the fears that grapple them.

Deuce hands him a fresh cup of tea and in the warmth, he finds himself tearing up. If anyone notices the stray tears that fall, they don't comment.

Even though the lounge silent, there is so much said, and in those unspoken words he finds a temporary medicine to the sickness that'd grappled him for weeks. And his sleep is dreamless.

honestly I see Epel as someone whose very stubborn and can get very tunnel visioned just like Deuce and end up beating themself up with their impatience and put themselves in a spiral. that's partially why I decided to have Deuce be the one to give him tea, it's almost like a silent message of we can work to be stronger together just like we promised on the beach. I had a feeling Yuu would notice that Epel hasn't been sleeping while they were staying at Pomefiore, especially since they'd gotten so close through the STYX incident. Maybe as one last thank you to Vil for letting them stay they tip him off about Epel's night practices. Epel craves strength but not as a tool to dominate but rather as a way to protect other people. of course because he is an NRC student is a side of him where he finds his place in the world and orients his relation with those around him based on strength but I feel we see a bit of this fall away as he experiences more deadly situations. anyway I can ramble for hours about Epel.

Ace / Deuce / Jack / Epel

[zerokurokawa]

Hi, I love the way that you write, do you think you can make a Reader X Bonten (individually or all together) based on the song "you right" by Doja Cat, where the reader is s/o to a guy making deals with bonten and one day she accompanies him to one meeting and she and the guys from Bonten can't take their eyes off of each other.

I Got a Man But I Want You | Bonten!Members x Taken!Reader

You weren't new to going to meetings with your boyfriend who is involved with some shady things outside of "normal work" hours. This time, however, he gave you strict instructions to keep quiet and stay very still as if these new people he was dealing with were very dangerous. 

You see, your boyfriend was low-key a piece of work. He would come home late at night and not pay a bit of attention to you and often stay out for weekends at a time doing what he called "business". However, you weren't stupid. You stayed with him because of the money he brought in and he gave you everything he could possibly give you. 

Today was no different to you than any other day. As instructed, you were to wear a revealing outfit with your makeup and hair done perfectly in order to convey the message of being a "poise" and "proper" woman of business alongside your boyfriend. 

As you stepped out of the vehicle, your boyfriend and yourself were met with security guards asking for specific information about what the meeting was and who you two were to be meeting with. You and your boyfriend did as instructed by the guards and headed upstairs to the top floor. You were met with a large, empty table with a view overlooking the city of Tokyo. You both sat down in chairs, making sure that they were empty - meaning there were no folders placed in front of the seats indicating that there would be possible suitors for those seats in general. 

Ten minutes passed but it felt like eternity once you heard the door of the room open and in come multiple men dressed in fancy suits and wearing expensive things such as watches and chains. You could tell just by how these men looked that they meant nothing but business and you were a little intimidated. 

You locked eyes with one particular member of this organization called "Bonten". His face had a scar that ran across his left eye and stood stout in front of you. Then, in walked who was famously known as the "Haitani Brothers", both with matching hair color and wearing stylish suits who sat down right next to you. After them, a man with bright pink hair and scars on both sides of his mouth made his way to the opposite side of the table. Finally, the ring leader came in - a short, white haired man with bags under his eyes who seemed frail and skinny as if he was on the brink of death. He sat at the front of the table, making eye contact with you for only a split second. 

"It's nice to finally do business with you all. Thank you for having this meeting with me." Your boyfriend spoke up as he laid out his paperwork that he had brought along which consisted of numbers and documents you weren't allowed to see. The only reason he brought you along on these meetings in the first place was to give the illusion that he had his shit together in the first place. 

All of the men just stared at you, not paying attention to the words that came out your boyfriend's mouth as he began to ramble about numbers and trades that he had made in the past year, hoping he would get a chance to work with Bonten. 

However, they had all seemed like they were paying more attention to you than they were to him. You felt as if you were in a room full of lions waiting to pounce on their prey. One man in particular stood up and stated that he was done with the meeting and had no interest in hearing out what your boyfriend had to say. On the way out, you looked him in the eyes once more, watching as his dark, blackish blue hair and scarred face walk out of the room. 

The Haitani brothers both started in on you then. Cutting your boyfriend off mid-sentence, they asked the tall one asked what your name was. You looked at your boyfriend and then stated your name. 

"Y/n L/n." You said calmly as you were internally shaking from intimidation. 

He then stood up, along with his brother, and walked over to you. Your boyfriend's eyes widened as they stuck out their hands to shake yours, introducing themselves and Rindou and Ran Haitani. As they did this, the man with the florescent pink hair stared you down along with the leader, who you had recently learned his name being Manjiro Sano, AKA, "Mikey". 

After the handshake, you sat there thinking to yourself about how intimidating, yet, attractive all of these men were to you. You couldn't help but to think about the possibilities of what would happen if they had gotten you alone... 

You quickly realized that you were letting your lustful mind wander and shook off the thoughts. Once you had came back to your thoughts, you realized that you had to go to the restroom. Excusing yourself while your boyfriend continued to try and talk to the leader himself, who by the way, seemed uninterested, you left the room in a hurry. 

As you rounded the corner, you were met with the same pair of eyes who had been staring at you for the entire meeting. He towered over you with intense eye contact. 

"What are you doing outside of the meeting?" He asked softly, taking you off guard. You had expected him to be more intimidating and rough around the edges. 

"I'm just looking for the restroom..." You stated, backing away slowly. He took a step forward and offered you his arm. Afraid to deny his request, you took his arm and he led you to the restroom himself. 

"My name is Kakucho. What's your name?" 

"Y/n." You spoke quietly as you reached for the handle of the bathroom door. 

"And what are you doing with a guy like that?" He asked, tilting his head. 

"Honestly, I don't know." You responded. That was when you felt him slip a piece of paper into your hand. You took it and went into the restroom and shut the door behind you.

You opened the piece of paper and it read: 

You deserve better. Call me. XXX-XXX-XXXX. 

[moriwood]

Flower Puff Boy — p.js

park jongseong x male reader fluff with very lil angst 2.3k words

Over the past year, people have come to know you as the guy who always gives flowers. You’ve used every occasion as an excuse to purchase flowers from Jay, your neighborhood florist, and each time you walked in, you always ended up with a free flower from him. As Valentine’s Day nears, you realize what flowers truly mean to him and you.

includes: flower language! (might be wrong, i’m not good with flowers myself); a call back to my other xo era-inspired fic (pls read it too if u haven’t yet :’3) warning: n/a

You were never well-versed in the language of flowers. No special fascination, no favorite blooms nor scents growing up. But over the past year, you have come to be known as the guy who gives flowers. For friends who started new jobs, relatives who celebrated their birthdays, and even your coworker who merely complained about the blandness of her beige desk, flowers had become your go-to gift.

You first stepped into Flower Puffs on a whim, a small shop tucked into a side road with little traffic. Despite its humble appearance, its color always stood out against the dull low-rise apartments beside it. The chalkboard outside boasted seasonal arrangements and flower meanings scribbled in neat, cursive letters. It started simple: a gift for your mother on Mother’s Day.

—

Behind the counter, a young man arranges a bouquet. His sleeves were rolled up, and the veins along his arms were like vines growing on a trellis. He glances up at the sound of the bell jingling above the door. His eyes lock onto yours, lips stretching into a smile as charming as the flowers that surrounded him.

“Hey there. Mother’s Day?”

You hesitate by the entrance. His directness catches you off guard, though it makes sense—most of his clients for the day were probably here for the same reason.

“Yeah,” you nod.

“Good call,” he replies, his smile reaching to his eyes. He wipes his hands on his apron and steps around the counter. “Something classic or something unique?”

You shift on your feet, glancing at the rows of flowers neatly arranged on wooden displays. “Uh… I don’t really know flowers.”

He chuckles softly, approaching the nearest display to you. “Well, that’s what I’m here for.”

He hums as he gestures at his different floral arrangements, voice filled to the brim with enthusiasm. It’s quite captivating—the way he spoke about flowers—detailing their scientific properties, from colors to scents, then unraveling the messages they somehow conveyed without words.

He picks up some delicate stems, their green, fuzzy leaves adorned with tiny yellow flowers that spiral upward along its length. Oddly, they remind you of the herbs you use to season food. “Agrimonias mean gratitude and protection. Old legends say that if you sleep with agrimonias under your pillow, they ward off evil.”

He then picks up another few bright yellow flowers, bigger than but as slender as the agrimonias. “These hawksbeards here mean something similar—protection and contentment.”

“And some Peruvian lilies,” he says, picking up some flowers in a darker shade of yellow, with lines of purple decorating its petals. “They mean a lot of things: wealth, fortune, and devotion. If it’s for your mom, you probably want the most for her, right?”

You nod. There’s a strange intimacy in the interaction, listening to someone speak about something they’re clearly passionate about in such a quiet environment. You reach out to take the bouquet he’s begun assembling, and for a split second, your fingers brush. 

He doesn’t pull away immediately. Instead, his eyes flicker to your face in amusement then he steps back with a grin. He plucks a white flower from one of the nearby displays and twirls it between his fingers.

“Here,” he says, holding it out to you. “A calla lily. Consider it a welcome gift.”

“What does it mean?”

“Magnificent beauty,” he replies smoothly, “like you.”

You freeze, caught between surprise and amusement. The confidence in his delivery makes you think that this is a regular schtick he does with his customers; however, for a beat too long, you consider if he could be as genuine as the flowers that he sells. 

A laugh bubbles up in your throat as you notice the board on the counter that reads Flower Puffs in colorful chalk.

“Well, thank you… Flower Puff Boy,” you finally reply.

“I don’t know if I like the sound of that,” he cackles, slapping a hand over his eyes. “But Jay would probably be better,” he corrects. “And you?”

—

It all began there, and you kept on coming back. Every occasion has become a perfect time to come visit Jay’s shop.

And each time, he gives you a flower. Even on days where you decide not to purchase anything and just pass the time at his shop, you always leave with a single flower in your hand. You keep them all, pressed in between pages of your books, tucked into vases by your windowsill, like tokens of each visit. In your mind, you’ve authored a tiny dictionary of all their meanings.

Wood sorrels for joy, when a childhood friend came to visit you in the city.

Mayflowers for perseverance, when your boss just recovered from a major surgery.

Lemon geraniums for unexpected meetings, when you welcomed a new guy in the workplace.

Then he gave you a lily of the valley for the return of happiness, because he hadn’t expected you to come back so soon.

Then milkvetches, because, as he put it, your presence softened his pains—something he didn’t explain further.

Then French marigolds for jealousy, after you mentioned to him how attractive the new guy at work was.

He didn’t seem to lie about what his flowers meant, yet you never took the time to question if the flowers really meant anything to him—to you. After all, he’s just a merchant, and you’re just a customer. Assuming otherwise would be foolish, especially when, after nearly a year of frequenting his shop, you knew nothing much other than his name and his line of work.

What do you do outside the shop? What else do you like other than flowers?

Were those even questions you could ask?

And yet, you still return. Not exactly for him, but for the giddy feeling you get when you learn something new about a flower—or so you tell yourself.

The bell rings as you step inside, and as always, the familiar florist stands behind the counter, carefully arranging a bouquet. He’s leaning over the counter, speaking with a customer—a guy around your age, donning an oversized sweater and smiling brightly. Jay notices you, glancing at you, but his attention is swiftly drawn back to the man he was talking to.

You really didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but the shop is too small not to overhear everything. Turning to the wooden displays, you pretend to browse through the flowers, testing yourself on the meanings you’ve learned.

“With a love letter and everything,” the guy says.

Jay chuckles. “Sounds… romantic… Who’s the lucky guy?”

Mustards. Greenish-yellow, as in the plant with the seeds that are used to make the condiment with the same name. It meant indifference, Jay said, when you wanted to buy something for a leaving coworker who you really didn’t care about.

“No idea. The flowers had me thinking they got it from you.”

Jay hums. “Sunoo got one. Then I think Heeseung?”

Cobaeas. Large, bell-shaped, and violet. Gossip, like you tuning in more to their conversation. Who are these people that they’re mentioning?

“Heeseung?” the guy repeats.

“Said he’s getting ‘em to cheer someone up. Maybe it’s him?”

The guy laughs. “I don’t think he swings my way. If it’s Sunoo or Heeseung, then this person probably bought it elsewhere.”

Goldenrods. So small, Jay just uses them to fill up his flower arrangements. He said they could mean precaution, but for what exactly?

“I hope you find out soon, or maybe not. Then I’ll make you a better bouquet. No secret messages though, just a delicate arrangement of flowers from your favorite florist.”

French marigolds. Jealousy. Huh.

You turn back to the couple by the counter, finding the guy chuckling and shaking his head. “I’ll take that offer when the mystery turns exhausting. But I’m pretty invested right now.”

Jay smiles at him, all easygoing and warm as usual. “Let me know how it turns out then.”

The guy waves goodbye, taking one last look at the bouquet in his hands before heading out. Jay then exhales, fingers tapping against the wood. He notices you again, now with his full attention, and grins.

“What’re you doing over there? Come tell me your excuse for visiting today. Don’t tell me it’s Lunar New Year.”

You force a chuckle, stepping closer. “Birthday of a friend. Was just testing if I remember the botanical stuff you’ve taught me.”

Jay tilts his head. He points to some oxeye daisies, petals white with a yellow center. “What do those mean?”

“Patience. Purity. The he-loves-me-he-loves-me-not flower.”

“Correct,” he replies, picking one and twirling it between his fingers. “Is this friend you’re talking about a friend-friend or…”

“Or?”

“Friends with ulterior motives,” Jay laughs. “Friends from a different dimension.”

You shake your head, chuckling. “No. A real, very existing friend.”

Jay studies you for a moment, an embarrassing warmth creeping into your face. You might make every occasion an excuse to visit Jay, but you won’t stoop so low as to invent stories about imaginary people. 

“You have to stop giving out flowers on a whim like that, your friend might misinterpret,” he says.

You hesitate briefly, then you roll your eyes in realization. “I could say the same thing about you giving free flowers to all your customers.”

Jay furrows his brows. “I don’t?”

“Huh?”

A beat passes.

“I don’t give free flowers to all my customers,” Jay repeats.

“Just me then?”

If not all customers, then maybe just the ones who buy a lot. That makes sense. Definitely not just you, don’t be delusional.

“Just you, yeah.”

“Oh.”

The guy from earlier left with his bouquet and nothing else. Another beat passes. Then Jay claps his hands together.

“So! A birthday bouquet. Got flowers in mind or you want my floral magic again?”

You blankly nod, mind still reeling from what Jay has just told you. “You do your magic, I’ll watch.”

Jay begins to work, slow as he selects the first few flowers, then fingers moving more efficiently as the flower arrangement grows into something more colorful and “meaningful.” You shift your weight from foot to foot as you watch him, letting the faint snip of scissors and rustling of wrapping paper fill in the silence.

After a moment, you find yourself asking: “Do you really believe in it?”

Jay glances up, pausing from cutting a length of pink ribbon. “In what?”

“Flowers and their meanings,” you clarify.

“Well, they mean something if you want them to,” he replies, before resuming what he was doing with the ribbon, gently tying it around the bouquet. “I mean,” Jay hesitates. “Flowers are just like any other gift or gesture. They only matter as much as you let them.”

He pushes the finished bouquet towards you, giving you a warm smile. “Or maybe you just like giving beautiful people something beautiful, and that’s as valid as any other reason,” he adds. “I’ve never been good with words anyway, so I’d appreciate flowers even if they really meant nothing other than pretty, colorful things.”

You nod, smiling back in understanding. Then the words tumble out before you can think too hard about them, a joke too sincere, a humorous statement that’s been stripped of its humor. Because you’re just that good with words unlike this Flower Puff Boy.

“Would it be fraternization with the enemy if I brought you flowers for Valentine’s?”

Jay stills, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. Then he catches on. “I guess I’ll give you white catchflies then. Betrayal!”

“I don’t know,” you sigh, prodding at the bouquet on the counter. “Have to check out the competition.”

Jay gasps dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. “After all the free flowers!?”

Your lips twitch. “Wasn’t exactly a fan of such a manipulative business tactic,” you joke.

He clicks his tongue in mock offence. “Guess I’ll have to stop the freebies then.”

The playful banter comes easily, but your heart stutters, thumping in your chest and wavering your voice in the process. For almost a year, you thought that Jay’s easy charm was just part of customer service. Maybe it was, but now, it definitely doesn’t feel like it.

“Valentine’s, huh?” Jay grins. “Receiving flowers on that day instead of selling them would be a change.”

You glance at the long-forgotten bouquet for your friend, your fingers idly brushing over the brown paper wrapped around the flowers.

“Actually,” you start, voice a little quieter, “could you make another bouquet for me? To pick up on a different day? Forgot something.”

Jay lifts an eyebrow. “Oh? What occasion?”

You smile, keeping it light. “Secret.”

Jay playfully narrows his eyes. “Am I gonna be jealous of another ‘friend’ of yours?”

“Should you?” you laugh, making Jay grumble in fake frustration. “I’ve got specific flowers in mind.”

“Okay, tell me what flowers you want,” he sighs. “I’ll prepare them by the date you need them.”

White chrysanthemums. Moss rosebuds. Peach blossoms. And lastly, yellow jonquils.

“Do you know what these flowers mean?” Jay slowly asks, as if he’s still processing the list of flowers you just gave him.

You nod, heat once again rushing to your face. “Do you?”

Jay shrugs, a small smile tugging at his lips. “We might have different dictionaries. Spell it out for me, please?”

You take a moment, the words spilling as if it came from a script, though your voice shakes. “I’m not lying when I say that this is a confession. You have captivated me and I desire a return of this affection.”

“That’s quite a specific message,” Jay replies, exhaling. “Who’s it for then?”

You meet his gaze, feeling the weight of what this scene means. “You.”

Jay shakes his head, but you see the fondness in his expression. “You’re ridiculous,” he mutters. “When will you be picking it up?”

“On Valentine’s, of course.”

He laughs. “I’m a florist. Wait for my reply in flowers by then.”

A sense of ease washes over you. “I’ll see you by then, Flower Puff Boy.”

Jay watches you with a smile as you turn toward the door, the familiar chime ringing once again.

For the first time, you leave the shop with no free flower to take home. And for the first time, you’re comfortable admitting that it wasn’t just the flowers that you were always looking forward to.

author's note: it’s over 2 weeks too late for valentine’s but hey i made it! would y’all believe me if i said i broke my arm a few months ago and it stalled everything for a while 😭 i hav a lot of drafts ongoing so let’s hope i don’t disappear for another few months ADF:gpzicvbpzpvo sorry for always slacking y'allllls

references: Flower language taken from the 1867 book “The illustrated language of flowers” by Mrs. L. Burke: https://archive.org/details/illustratedlang00burka

— moriwood.

[e-nonsense]

Hi!! I don’t know if your 2k event is still open but could I get daisies with lace? Anything with Erik please I am craving more Erik content maybe something with dofp Erik cause he comes off as very cocky in that movie and I love a man who knows he could make me fold <3

EGOIST

pairing. erik lehnsherr x fem!reader

a/n. this was supposed to be short but yeah

warnings. SMUT

“go fuck yourself, erik.” you scoffed, moving past him. you don’t far because he’s pulling you back into him.

“i have you for that,” he replies, gripping your jaw, forcing you to look at him. cold eyes meeting yours, he seems so dull at times, you can’t tell a single thought behind those eyes, but that’s his intention, isn’t it?

you try to shove him back but he’s having none of it, only pulling you closer. “don’t fight me, you know you won’t win.”

you hated that he was so sure of himself, that he’d win against you. truthfully you hated feeling weak, inferior to him. you weren’t a weak mutant, your mutation was relatively powerful.

but erik was so much more controlled, he knew his limits, he knows he has no limits.

his eyes trace down your body, he’d shown up in the middle of the night. surprisingly charles didn’t know he was here, but then again charles was just getting back on his feet — metaphorically of course.

“why’re you here?”

“i’ve come to take you home.” he sounds so sure of himself, like he knows you’ll follow him even though last time you didn’t. but things were different now, no?

“home?” you laugh bitterly, restraining yourself from slapping him across the face. “this is my home.”

“with charles?” his smirk drops, eyes narrowing at you.

“charles didn’t abandon me to go on some murder spree, did he?” you snap back at him, and he flinches, his facade crumbling.

“i didn’t abandon you.” he hisses, gripping your chin harder. “you had a choice, me or charles.”

“and i’ll choose charles again.” it hurt more than you liked, to say that to him, his grip falters but he doesn’t pull away. he knows you’re only trying to scare him off.

“besides, you had a choice too. yourself or us, no surprise what you chose.” you mutter, you see a flicker of guilt in his eyes.

“i never meant to hurt you, never you.”

“but you did.”

“i did.”

you don’t know what changed but he kisses you. trying to convey a message he can’t speak an i love you without words. you seem to get because you kiss him back with the same intensity.

then you’re in your bedroom again, charles fast asleep down the hall. erik seems to like the thought of his old friend knowing you’re his again.

“i missed you, us.” he murmurs into your ear, pulling your clothes off and kissing down your throat, tongue darting out every few seconds to lick your skin.

“say it back. tell me you missed me,” he demands.

you’re naked, you realise, and he’s staring down at you like a starved man seeing food for the first time in years.

“i missed you too, erik.” you whisper and he melts, the arrogance fading away, fingers gripping your thighs tightly.

“i don’t want to wait,” he mumbles, shedding his clothes too.

“you’re mine, aren’t you?”

you’re not sure how to respond and his hand is around your throat, “say yes.”

“yes.”

he grins, that toothy grin he gives when he gets what he wants. “good girl.”

erik is a taker, less a giver. but he decides to give tonight, its been ten years after all. he can spare a little nicety for your sake.

he doesn’t prep you though, he’s waited long enough. he’ll make you cum instead, tell you about the house he has too, later. the sweet stuff can wait. he needs you right now.

erik fucks you like a man starved. eyeing you in ways that make you fluster and try to hide, though there’s nowhere to go when you’re stuck beneath him. he seems to like you there, angling his hips to fill you all the way.

he groans into your ear, asking — begging — for praise. for you to tell him how good he is, how good he makes you feel. that only he can make you feel this way.

and you go along with it, feeding his enormous ego more and more, for each syllable that leaves your lips he fucks you harder. he likes the feeling of superiority, a flaw that bleeds into the bedroom too.

you cum, again and again. until it’s enough for him. he needs to know that he’s still good enough for you, what better way than reminding you that he can fuck you like no other man ever will?

then, finally he cums too. releasing with a subtle moan into your ear, his hips stutter against yours. eyes falling shut as he collapses on top of you.

you’d have thought he were dead with the way he lay so still, the only indication he was still with you was the feel of his breath, the rise and fall of his chest and the subtle twitch of his fingers.

you lay there, under him. you let him breath, you feel him relax until moments later he’s at it again. his fingers on your clit.

“give me one more.” he mutters, nipping your earlobe and you gasp. pinned down under the weight of his body, unable to do anything but lay there and take it, take what he gives you.

“erik,” you whisper, gripping the tuffs of his hair tightly, you try to rock your hips but he’s heavier, his softened cock still inside of you. though its not nearly as soft as it was moments ago.

“you’ll give me another.” he says, doesn’t questions because he knows you will. “tell me i make you feel good.”

“you do,” you comply, he needs this, you think. needs you to need him. your head rolls back into the pillows, nails scratching down his back at the overstimulation. he groans into your ear when you tighten around him.

“always make me feel so good, erik.”

“tell me you love me.”

you hesitate, he waits.

“i love you,” and you do. you love him despite wanting to kill him ninety percent of the time these days.

“i wonder how you ever survived without me.” he mutters, his thumb rubbing your bud faster, until you’re gasping for air, eyes screwed shut.

“aww,” he coos, mockingly, you note.

you pay him no mind, focused on reaching your end. “erik,” you whisper.

“i know, cum for me, hase.”

© e-nonsense. do no copy/steal/translate. do it and I’ll bite your toes off

[mapoeggplant]

skip to loafer chapter 65 analysis // spoilers

the girl who's chasing the sun and the boy who's finding a way to walk by her side: how much kindness is needed for one to forgive themselves and finally listen to their heart?

for this month's review, i wanted to do something a little different: i'm going to divide it into two parts. the first part will be about the chapter, of course, and address some points that i think are worth discussing. the second part, i'd like to focus much more on the message of kindness that skip to loafer brings to its readers. so, here we go.

finally, the long-awaited date is here. i confess that i always felt a little uncomfortable when people demanded so much for this date to happen faster, to sensei “get over with it”. i know, i was also looking forward to it, but the whole build-up that led us to this moment made it even more impactful and even stronger. to build a story, you need not only a beginning and an end, but a middle that supports both events. the story of shima and mitsumi had its beginning and now we're facing the middle. no, the breakup didn't bring the end, it was just a complement. an event as big as this one needs to be sustained with enough strength to have the necessary impact. so yes, the “delay” that many complained was extremely well used and made their night together even more special.

now, about the actual date. it’s beautiful to see how they managed to find a space in all this confusion to make their friendship prevail and the discomfort that they both felt before dissipate. of course, their relationship didn’t go back to what it was before, but i don’t think that would ever be possible: relationships change, no matter if good or bad things happen. the way we relate to people grows at the same speed as we grow. and, to keep it alive, it takes a lot of humility, kindness and, of course, love.

since the chapter is slightly more focused on shima, his insecurity and fear are much clearer and more palpable. shima is a character who still carries a lot of regret for everything he did, even for things that weren’t his fault, like his past and the mistakes he made along the way, guided by people with ill intentions. the breakup with mitsumi left a huge scar on him, since he still firmly believes that he is the one most to blame for their friendship almost falling apart. mitsumi is one of the few people who genuinely wants to be with shima and he knows it — but that doesn't change the fact that he is still very afraid that she will never really get to know his "real self" and to like him for who he is, specially because shima himself doesn’t really know what all of this mean. shima feels disappointed that mitsumi has "fallen" for his false kindness because he feels that he is not only deceiving other people, but also one of the most important people in his life. lying to mitsumi not only brings a pain to his heart, but also an enormous insecurity that he will never be able to convey his feelings for her, because he will never be able to overcome this wall that he himself created. when he himself admits that his feelings for her are much deeper, he finally get in touch with the desire to be completely exposed to her, to be accepted by her and that he could finally stop using the facade he hates so much against her.

what he doesn't know yet is that mitsumi can see beyond his mask — and much more than he even imagines: mitsumi sees the real kindness within shima. as much as he insists on saying that this is just a way of protecting himself, mitsumi can indeed find in shima's actions a kindness and affection that are far from being fabricated. it saved her so many times before so, if what she felt was real and valid, why wouldn't his intentions be truthful as well? mitsumi sees shima for who he is, and respects all the past that he is still afraid to show, that’s why she never pressured him to open up and respected every time he changed the subject. there was no need for her to dive deep into something that didn’t involved her, so all she could do was show that she would be there for him when he needed and when he find the right time to tell her all about the little shima she never met. mitsumi sees the kindness he holds in his heart and all the good intentions he had when he helped her before, something he lies to himself and say it was “only a facade”. he still can’t see how much he wanted to protect her and be by her side all guided by his own heart and good faith, not the lie he made up. the real shima was the one who wanted to do all that, not the “fake” he created. when mitsumi chooses to end their relationship, she’s truly thinking about his feelings and a way to save their friendship before both of them came out completely hurt by it (but i want to point out something very, very important: they are both teenagers. of course they will act impulsively and end up hurting each other without realizing it. shima doesn't know which of his actions hurt mitsumi, just as she doesn't know which of her words might end up hurting him. they are at the beginning of a long life and a long journey, so why not give them the kindness they so deserve?). 

shima finally manages to take a step forward, getting closer and closer to walking side by side with mitsumi. as he becomes more in touch with his own feelings, shima sees a huge need to change and start being more sincere. in order for him to become a better person, in his own eyes, he now needs to start putting the mask aside and embrace who he truly is. no longer listening to others or fulfilling desires that are not his: now is the time for him to look inside himself and, above all, listen to his own heart. from now on, the path he will follow is his and his alone.

now, for the second part: i really want to talk a little about how skip to loafer has an extremely delicate writing style that focuses so much on kindness, whether it is the kind we export to the world or the kind we internalize.

those who usually follow my analysis must be tired of hearing how much i talk about the message of “i love you for who you are” that skip to loafer values ​​and explores so much. but it’s no use: the more i talk about it, the more i admire the dedication that the sensei puts into writing completely real and human characters. it is always a great joy when people come to me and say how much they saw themselves in one character or two, and how that made them feel embraced. it warms my heart that people can see, thought these characters, the kindness they deserve. It’s very clear to me how sensei is always so worried with showing the reality of their journey of loving themselves in a way to bring the reader closer and learn from it. 

of course, shima and mitsumi's friendship and relationship could end with the breakup. or, from another angle, it is clear that they could have started a relationship much earlier and maintained it despite all the challenges they still have to face with themselves. but... is that valid? is that fair to them? is that kind to both the characters and the readers?

by opting for a gentler writing style and a story more focused their lives rather than taking a romantic road trip (after all, it is a slice of life), skip to loafer delves into a great lesson about compassion and acceptance that no one is perfect. we will all make mistakes during the course of our lives, but it is up to us to get up and move on, building other stories and sharing beauty with whoever is by our side. we may not see how kind we are to others, but there is certainly someone by our side who admires us and is grateful for everything we have done for them.

and i'm grateful for you for reading my analysis 💛 thank you. don't forget to support sensei and send her lots of kindness!!!! skip to loafer will be on break next month, so see you in december :)

[bnnuy-wabbit]

Man, I'm gonna be honest. I played the two partnered endings back to back to see the differences and I like the detective kuuno ending more than the one where we recruit kim! Its just much more fulfilling emotionally!!!!

Kim is overall very serious and composed about stuff and hes well respected by the other cops. When you get to keep your job and recruit him it DOES feel good!! Because it was smooth and really cool of him to defend you like that and you've gotten yourself a friend! a friend who truly trusts you and believes in you. Kim is the nicest and most patient man on planet earth.

But Cuno??? It's a different message. Cuno knows fuckall. Nobody there respects him and he doesnt have the measured responses and fancy words kim has, just pure utter PASSION. He almost cries of RAGE when people dont listen to him when you're trying to convince everybody about the Phasmid. Jean specifically is a cunt to Cuno and spaces out all the time and doesnt listen to anything he says ("you're hearing, but you're not listening"). Nobody believes him. Nobody takes him seriously. He's used to that, i bet.

During the islet section, Cuno is A LOT like Harry. having him around as your partner isnt like having kim at all. he doesnt help with cop stuff or adult stuff. rather, he says your lines for you. i just played the one with kim and CUNO SAYS WHAT YOU WOULD SAY IF YOU WERE WITH KIM. he has the same thought processes as You do. he asks questions just like you do. he acts a bit like you do. he makes comments you would sometimes. He literally says YOUR lines in his runs. and hes impulsive and a child, so he asks it willy nilly. you have to be the responsible one now, you need to hold him back if anything.

And then the way cuno literally BEGS the officers to let him join? to take him away from martinaise, to give him a better chance at life. Hell do anything, he promises to stop saying shit, he promises to behave. Just get him OUT of there. It feels like there are WAY more stakes, so the emotional payoff is MUCH higher

(If you like cuno of course. Which i do. theres a LOT to unpack regarding that boy.)

Like, seeing him EXCITEDLY skipping to the coupris kineema and opening the door to the other cops?? It feels good!!!! It feels really good! Like on top of everything you did, you also got to take this kid out of that shithole, to give him a chance.

You Must Understand.

Cuno mirrors Harry in MANY ways.

Nobody respects Harry, nobody respects cuno either. Harrys just some insane alcoholic, cunos just a delinquent kid. Neither are considered particularly trustworthy by the people who interact with them in daily life. HOWEVER. cuno has the spark and excitement harry lacks when harry lets him come along. he has hope. he wants to help, he wants to participate even if he doesn't quite know what he's doing. Why? Because if you got him in your party in the first place, it means he feels comfortable around you! For real, when you get that kid to respect YOU he REALLY starts trusting and looking up to you. He's ride or die. For hells sake he chooses HARRY over cunoesse! You don't belittle him and his interests like Cunoesse does! He gets to be unashamedly himself! Plus you're HIS pig. He already very much has a cop/detective fixation and during the entire time he's around harry he's absolutely PUMPED to be solving the crime with him and he's more than willing to help you out and give his two cents on the matter even if he doesn't really know anything about anything.

And so WHAT if he's just some kid? So what if he's POOR and doesn't have a camera to photograph the phasmid? He talks about harry a LOT more than kim does and with awe in his voice. He defends harry until the fucking end and he does NOT stop. He literally doesn't shut up. he just keeps fucking GOING. He blurts stuff out to defend you even if it's not helpful because he respects harry!!! truly respects him! he WANTS to help. he'll say stuff even if his words fail to convey properly what he means.

And then what?? You do the same for him. Well, youre giving me a chance right? Then take the kid along, he helped. He has nothing, his dad is a wasted dying drunkard (like me) and hes poor (like me). But he did good (i did too). He has potential (do do i). Hell behave (i'm trying to behave). Hell be a good detective (like me. he's just like me). PLEASE take him in (you're giving me a second chance, give him one too).

I Need you to understand. In my playthrough i got harry talking about how he feels like he had children at home when he's asked if he has a family. He feels like he has children, daughters. But alas. You're hit at the end of the game with Dora's 'i terminated our pregnancy because youre poor.' I get a feel that he WANTED to be a father. He wanted a family, but he was just So Fucking Mentally Ill about Everything it never came to be.

But honestly? He'd be an alright mentor figure. He clearly enjoys older kids, despite what he says about not being good with kids. He was a high school teacher! He's Clearly used to dealing with older kids and delinquents and he can talk to them like an equal, if he wants to, he can crack them too! He can be understanding.

And so what? Hell never have Dora's kids, but then he, harry (the drunken cunt) (the cunt everybody hates) (the fucking asshole), can be nice to this delinquent addict child a bunch of times (a foul mouthed jackass) (everybody Loathes that kid) (he doesnt know love) and then said kid starts following him like a lost puppy the moment harry needs company THE MOST. He accepts The Cuno. They have each other's back. They don't give up on each other. They want life to change for the better. Yknow???????

Cuno's ending hits muuuuch harder because of all that. Anyways. Yeah. rant over

[learnastrowallura]

🕯Mercury in Astrology

Information is from Chris Brennan's video on The Astrology Podcast YouTube channel on the topic of Mercury significations <3

Mercury: writing, speech, words, message, reign, translation, conveying, transmitting, information, interpretations, numbers, analysis, reasoning, details, dialogue, exchange, money, businesses, contracts, commerce, negotiating, indecision, disputation, questioning, doubts, distractions, speed, variety, irregularity, verstatility, changing, adaptability, flexibility, instability, inconsistency, knowledge, philosophy, service, teaching, mind, intelligence, intellect, language, communication, learning, poetry, voice acting, narration, acting, sharing, masculine, neutrality

Sun and Mercury:

Sun and Mercury are both centered around intelligence but in different ways; they complete each other. Sun is about divine knowledge and Mercury is about conveying, transmitting or communicating that knowledge or even perhaps analyzing it and extracting more wisdom as well as detail from it so I found this point particularly interesting. Sun illuminates with its rays and gives clarity by providing us with the truth and then Mercury expands on that truth and shares it with others in its charming versatile way as well

Sun vs Mercury sign:

Mercury does not move further than 28 degrees from the Sun meaning that the Mercury sign will always be the sign before or after the Sun sign (zodiacal signs are divided into 30 degrees) and so there is a bit of a differentiation (for lack of a better word) between who we are and the way we communicate and exchange information with other people if the Mercury and Sun signs are not one of the same. First example that comes to mind is having an Aries Sun Taurus Mercury and two people who are quite close to me have these placements; you would not know they were Aries Suns unless u asked hahaha even though one of them is an Aries rising too so that is something I wanted to note as well. Another example would be Sagittarius sun with Scorpio Mercury adding a lot of intensity to the person's communication style as well (which is something I relate to as you will see later on)

Domicile and exaltation:

Sooo Mercury rules over Gemini and Virgo so those are its domicile signs, it is how Mercury can manifest itself most comfortably whilst embodying its true essence. And then Mercury has its exaltation in Virgo as well which is pretty unique might I say and this gives me the vibes of (this my own way of seeing it so take it with a grain of salt) Mercury being more constructive in the sign of Virgo versus in Gemini just because of this particular distinction

But speaking of these two signs I do think they embody their Mercurial energies quite differently and shoutout to my friend @saturnianoracle for giving me the key words to describe this. First of all they are both analytic but Virgo is more of a skeptic I feel while Gemini tends to have more of an open mind. Virgo wants to see the evidence behind certain things to determine the merit or validity, to a certain extent, of the topics at hand to then decides if it wants to invest energy into looking into it more. It is very grounded as well as organized. With Gemini there is a certain sense of childlike curiosity that takes hold of this sign making it want to explore deep topics and of course stimulate its mind; it dives in without thinking and is more disorganized, inconsistent and chaotic I would say, and it loves conversing about its findings as well. I saw a tiktok video ancient astrology based describing Virgo and Gemini as the most intuitive signs which was fascinating to be honest u can watch it here

Detriment and Fall:

Mercury has its detriment in Sagittarius/Pisces and its fall in the sign of Pisces as well and the interesting thing noted in the video I watched (mentioned at the start) is that Sagittarius and Pisces are ruled by Jupiter, the biggest planet ruling over expansion and abundance, and with Mercury being on the smaller side you can really see that distinction of the Mercurial signs really often looking at the detail of things and well in contrast the Jupiter signs seeing the bigger picture. Also Jupiter being a benefic and ruling over luck makes me think that having these two placements is honestly not so bad tbh

Mercury in first house:

Mercury has its planetary joy in the first house of the self, highlighting the utmost importance of the curious, inquisitive and messenger qualities of the planet. What is interesting is the neutrality of Mercury and how we can link that with its joy being in the 1st house; a house that can be above or below the horizon, so even in this regard it stays neutral and does not "pick a side" if that makes sense; "acting as a bridge between the upper and lower hemispheres of the chart, a bridge between the celestial and terrestial realms which are united in the degree of the ascendant".

Source for the planetery joy information is Hellenistic Astrology: The Study of Fate and Fortune by Chris Brennan

I have made a more detailed post on planetary joys so check it out <3

Neutrality:

Mercury is not seen as a benefic or a malefic; it is considered a neutral planet. Of course, its manifestation and expression can be positive, negative or stay neutral depending on a few factors, such as:

Being in its domicile (Gemini/Virgo) or its exaltation (Virgo) sign is gonna lead it to manifest in a more constructive/beneficial way

Being in its detriment (Sagittarius/Pisces) or its fall (Pisces) sign would generally lead it to manifest in a less constructive way

Aspecting a benefic planet (Jupiter/Venus) would lead Mercury in this instance to manifest in a more constructive way as it is said to adopt the traits of benefic planet it is associated with

Being in a benefic ruled sign; meaning a Jupiter ruled sign as mentioned beforehand (Sagittarius Mercury, Pisces Mercury) or a Venus ruled sign (Taurus Mercury, Libra Mercury) would manifest in the same manner mentioned above

Aspecting a malefic planet (Mars/Saturn) leads Mercury to take on the traits of that malefic planet as well

Being in a malefic ruled sign so either Mars ruled (Aries Mercury, Scorpio Mercury) or Saturn ruled (Capricorn Mercury, Aquarius Mercury) leads us to Mercury adapting to that malefic's traits again

Triplicity also matters and I will make a detailed post on it soon but for now all I can say is that having Mercury in an air sign (Gemini, Aquarius, or Libra) adds on to the "power" that the Mercury placement has within the chart and the support that it gives to the native; if we are dealing with a day chart then Mercury has moderate support in the air sign in question (Saturn being its triplicity lord), and if it is a night chart then it maintains a powerful position within the chart, being its own triplicity ruler. (Source for triplicity rulership intormation is Ancient Astrology: in Theory and Practice: A manual of Traditional Techniques, Volume One: Assessing Planetary Condition by Demetra George)

That is all!! I wanted to go into more detail tbh but time simply does not allow it these days as I have my internship going on as well but I hope this was informative haha

Thank you for reading <3

Masterlist

Paid readings open

[yunsound]

Director Jiaozi and the Chinese Animation Industry

If you’re on my page it probably means you’ve seen my endless gushing about Ne Zha 1 and 2. I’ve always been a huge fan of domestic animation (domestic for me meaning China) as well as international Japanese and Western animation.

In particular, I admire big blockbuster animated films that managed to both convey cultural, artistic and spiritual messaging through a medium as notoriously finicky as animation.

Some of my favourite animated movies (I think this is an opinion held by every animation fan) are the Spiderverse series (despite not being a Spiderman fan) and the Ghibli movies of my youth. 

Being Chinese, though, I grew up with 2D animated TV shows that cemented their place in my upbringing. Shanghai Animation Studio movies such as Ne Zha Conquers the Sea 1979,

Havoc in Heaven 1961,

and even 1878’s Calabash Brothers (or Gourd Brothers? I guess?)

are all iconic parts of growing up as a Chinese.

Chinese animation has never been widely acclaimed on a global scale the way Japanese animation and sometimes Western animation have. The domestic animation industry is made entirely up of passion projects, which can seem great until you realise passion projects don’t typically tend to make money.

In a film industry as hyper-competitive and critical as China, most animation projects never tend to make it far. Art and music, while highly respected once you achieve success, have high barriers to entry. Chinese people are very critical of artistic work because of thousands of years of artistic development.

You may have heard of a recent animated film in China called A Mermaid Summer (or however it was translated). 2 people spent 7 years making it- the movie was bullied to oblivion.

A Mermaid Summer is, quite frankly, shit. It’s terrible. The animation is bad, the storytelling is bad, the voice acting is bad. It was, however, a passion project made by like 2 people on their own- people understand why it’s bad, and it’s not like we expected Oscar-worthy visuals.

Does this seem incredibly harsh to bully these two hardworking people? YES, it does! And it IS harsh and mean!

Understand that thousands of beautiful works (made meticulously and with great care) receive little to no attention in the domestic industry, made by equally small teams as A Mermaid Summer but with much higher quality.

The creators weren’t seasoned pros and definitely didn’t deserve to be bullied so much, but it would’ve honestly been much better if they had scrapped it. (They had actually considered starting over but decided to keep going, which I think wasn’t a good decision). 

Putting out a bad product is never better than taking your time, even if it takes you a lifetime.

I tell you about A Mermaid Summer to establish some baseline rules in the Chinese film industry and how Chinese people want films to be made (both animated and non-animated):

It does not matter how long it takes. The end product has to be good.

If the product is bad, NO MATTER how beloved the director/idea/IP/characters are, it’s going to flop.

In an animated movie: either the animation has to be great, or the plot has to be great. If you have one or the other, it’s meh. If you have both, yay! You cannot, however, get away with having both be mid.

If the product is bad, no one cares how much work you put in or how sad your circumstances are: there is going to be ZERO people complimenting or watching your work. Results speak, not effort.

Doesn’t this seem very strict? That’s because it is, but it’s the reality. Recently a movie came out based on the beloved novel series by Jin Yong, called Legend of the Condor Heroes. Condor Heroes is probably one of China’s biggest ever IPs. 

Its fans are everywhere. My parents love Jin Yong’s novels and so do 80% of China’s population. It’s as big as Harry Potter, basically, just for a different audience.

The actors in the movie are all popular too. Xiao Zhan, Leung Ka-fei, Ada Choi are all big-names.

However, Legend of the Condor Heroes completely flopped. The art direction and writing was bad and the acting was mid. The movie industry is not like the TV drama industry: if your movie is bad, NO ONE CARES if the actors are hot or if the IP is big, it will flop.

In this harsh environment, animated films especially struggle. We’ve seen a severe lack of good Chinese animated films. Is this critical culture to blame? Certainly part of the problem, but it’s also (somewhat sadly and ironically) what drives people to want to excel.

A very tough love solution. 

This is why it is especially shocking and especially impactful that Ne Zha 2 is doing so well.

Ne Zha 2’s director’s stage name is Jiaozi (which means dumpling). His real name is Yang Yu. I will call him Jiaozi, though. 

He graduated from med school in a fairly-prestigious university in Sichuan. Everyone knows how rigorous med school is. While he was studying, he spent every night holed up in his dorm figuring out the basics of animation. After graduation, he didn’t go to work- he spent three years living basically in his mother’s basement trying to make an animated film. 

A very, very classically doomed story. However, against all odds, he did it. He released a 16-minute animated short in 2008 called 打，打个大西瓜 (or See Through).

It’s available on YouTube and it has a total of 0 lines of dialogue. This short, however, went viral for its anti-war, anti-hate and anti-propaganda message. It won a lot of domestic and international awards. 

Through those three years he spent making See Through, he lived off his mother’s retirement fund of 200 dollars a month (1000 yuan), bought virtually nothing, and worked 14 hours a day.

See Through didn’t garner him instant success. After all, it was just an animated short. Within a year it wasn’t really mentioned anymore. He did, however, get his foot in the door.

Ne Zha is one of the biggest IPs in China. He has the most film/anime/comic/game adaptations after Sun Wukong (that’s including Dragon Ball and all the Dragon Ball spinoffs). 

Jiaozi basically made Ne Zha 1 on two cents and a dream. The movie was low-budget (I’m talking 22 million) and in interviews, he revealed he had no money to hire a motion capture expert or a voice acting coach, so he did all of this himself. He even voice-acted some of the characters to save on costs.

The entire cast was unknown VAs. The animation was done by newbies just entering the industry. This movie was the definition of cutting costs.

Against all odds, it succeeded. Ne Zha 1 won fans over with its humour, stellar character-building and refreshing message. It became the highest grossing film of that year and catapulted Jiaozi into fame. 

Almost as soon as Ne Zha 1 succeeded (within a year), Jiaozi began work on Ne Zha 2. 

If you compare pictures of Jiaozi before and after producing Ne Zha 2, you can notice he looks like he’s aged a lot more than 5 years.

Jiaozi has said he’s an extremely introverted person prone to anxiety, and that he’s a huge perfectionist to the point where it’s harmed both his professional and personal life.

He outsourced many of the more complicated scenes on Ne Zha 2 to top foreign production companies. You can see their names (Korean, Indian, Japanese, American etc) in the end credits of Ne Zha 2.

However, he said in an interview that because the project was coming from mainland China (which, as we’ve established, has a fairly weak animation industry), these foreign companies sent only their lowest-rate animators despite the high rates Jiaozi was paying them.

As such, Jiaozi had to redo most of these scenes from scratch with domestic groups.

Hundreds of animation studios in China joined to work on Ne Zha 2. Jiaozi invested almost all the money he made off the first movie back into the second one. These workers were young, passionate newcomers to the industry- they once again didn’t have the budget to hire seasoned pros despite the much looser spending constraints.

The studios that joined Jiaozi worked at low rates (sometimes not even breaking even on labour costs) to produce Ne Zha 2.

5 years later it happened. Ne Zha 2 is making an incredible amount of money. 

Most people are worried about the pressure the success of Ne Zha 2 is putting on Jiaozi- about a week ago he officially announced he’s stopping all interviews and publicity for Ne Zha 2 to go into “seclusion” to work on the 3rd movie, before 2 even finished airing. 

He’s been working extremely unhealthy hours for over a decade. However, the results have paid off. That’s all we can say, I guess.

The reason why many Chinese adore Ne Zha so much isn’t just because the movies are good- it’s because the movies are good enough that they basically became hope for the future of the domestic animation industry.

A *relatively* small company (not small anymore, considering how big they’re probably going to get in the future) managed to make 2 of the highest grossing films in Chinese history and one of the highest-grossing films of all time. Jiaozi has made more in box office sales with 2 full-length movies than most directors with over thirty or fourty.

It’s incredible that what seemed like such a doomed journey turned out so fantastically. Many young Chinese animators now dream of working with Jiaozi, or becoming like him.

Of course, Jiaozi isn’t perfect. He’s at the very least extremely talented, probably a “genius” (or however you define genius) and incredibly hardworking. 

His workers describe him as a nightmare director not because he’s rude but because he is incredibly nitpicky and has seemingly impossibly-high standards. He’s also a little bit of a douchebag (he made a short film called The Boss’s Woman that’s pretty misogynistic but it was never formally released). 

However. You can’t deny that Jiaozi has accomplished what decades of animators before him haven’t been able to. Ne Zha 2 is the greatest animated movie in history. That’s incredible for the Chinese animation industry, which before Ne Zha has never been able to get a stable footing.

Some other Chinese animated movies I recommend as well as some notes.

As a general rating marker: I rate 

Ne Zha 1: 7.5-8/10

Ne Zha 2: 9/10

The Shawshank Redemption: 9.5/10

The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King: 9/10

Decide from these rankings whether or not you think my opinions on movies are valid and if you want to keep reading.

大鱼海棠 Big Fish and Begonia 2016

7.5/10

Co-produced with Korean animation studio

Very touching, very tear-jerking

Animation is beautiful

长安三万里 30,000 Miles from Chang’An 2023

6.5/10

Ehhhh?

It’s definitely touching but not for everyone

Not understandable for a wide audience: you’d need to know some basic Chinese history and culture

It’s okay

People either love it or hate it

西游记之大圣归来 The Journey to the West: Hero is Back 2015

7.5/10

The animation is just okay, but the story is great

Very hype

One of the first domestic animated movies whose release I actively followed

Without background of JTTW it’s not very good, but if you know you know.

新神榜：杨戬 New Gods Reborn: Yang Jian 2022

6/10

The animation is good: more precisely, the models are good

The storyline is kind of a mess

Much better than the other New Gods Reborn movie, which we don’t talk about

Worth a quick watch

白蛇缘起 White Snake 2019

6.5/10

Not bad, the storyline was meh

It got some hype abroad but it’s mid

Worth a watch but it’s way overrated

深海 Deep Sea 2023

7.5/10

The animation is beautiful and the story is good!

Worth a watch! I recommend it

Very dreamcore, floaty feeling

Gives you a sense of being not quite in our reality in a similar way as some Ghibli movies 

[bunnis-monsters]

Commissions are open!

You can commission me by messaging me here or discord if interested!

AFTER I SEND MY PAYPAL, YOU HAVE 12 HOURS TO PAY ME BEFORE YOU LOSE YOUR SLOT!

Any discounts?: N/A

500 words: $4

1k words: $8

2k words: $14

3k words: $17

5k words: $25

10k words: $50

Note: you can ask for a different amount of words that aren’t listed, and I’ll give you a new price. It’s whatever I feel like giving you with that word amount. I wouldn’t recommend asking for lower than 500, because it would be difficult to convey a story in less words. But you’re the customer… so… do what you want. I will not write above 10k words.

FAQ

How do I commission you?

Simply message me here or on discord! We can discuss what you want, and afterwards you can pay for your commission! Once I start on your fic, you’ll receive a google docs link so you can check on your fic whenever you’d like!

How do you accept your payments?

Through PayPal or Kofi. If you pay through Kofi, please send me your tumblr and/or discord so I have a way to contact you in case I can’t use my kofi account.

How will we receive our fic?

Google docs! And I’ll post it here and/or on AO3 if you want to read it somewhere else!

What information do you need?

It all depends on what you want! Be prepared to answer my questions. Usually I ask for a basic appearance and body shape, personality, what kind of scenes you want in the story and the tone. I may need more info though, so again be ready to answer questions.

How long will it take?

Generally, it depends on what spot you are on the list and how many words your commission is. Each batch will have a different waitlist and starting time, please pay attention to the advertisements ^^

What do you specialize in?

I prefer writing monster x chubby!fem!reader, but I’ll write for whatever you want, as long as it follows my boundaries below.

Do you post our commissions?

Yes, unless I’ve been asked not to. Any monster x reader commissions I’d prefer to post. If it’s a monster x oc, I’ll make a version where the oc is a reader insert for posting purposes.

What I’ll write

-monster/canon/oc x reader

-NSFW

-romance

-backstories for characters(ocs, dnd characters, etc)

What I can’t write

-nsfw with minors involved

-explicit gore scenes/torture porn

-things that make me personally uncomfortable

(Once you have the story, you can change the reader’s name to be yours, add your physical appearance to the story, whatever you want, idc.)

Refunds

I will gladly give you a refund if I haven’t started on your fic yet or haven’t written enough for it to cost anything.

For example, if you’ve asked for a 2k commission and I’ve only written 100 words, you can receive a refund, anything over that, I’ll at least have to charge you for the amount of words I’ve already written for you.

You will NOT receive a refund for a full story after it’s been written. If you aren’t satisfied I can edit it, but once it’s finished there are no refunds.

Story options

-You can ask for a series with a set word count for chapter. Say you want a 10k word fic but want it in 2k word chapters. This makes it easier for me to get you updated on the story.

-You can request that I keep your story a complete surprise. I’ll only ask you questions and won’t share details!

Disclaimer: I have the right to turn down anyone for any reason I see fit. I can give you a time that I can start on your fic, but because I am human and have responsibilities outside of commissions, some may be late or take longer than I originally thought. If you are in a rush for your commission, please tell me so I can move you up the list! I am very willing to work with you on getting your fic out faster, but please tell me when you request the commission, not after. Otherwise, I will work on it at my own pace ^^

[the-glorious-evolution-fanart]

hallo - I'm probably the umpteenth person to ask this, but have you seen the very brief shot of Viktor's new design in the Arcane S2 teaser? if you have, what are your thoughts ? I'm a little worried about it if I'm being honest, given that they're leaning even MORE into the "sickly twink mage" thing :(

man I'm going to miss og viktor

Hi! Don't worry even if you're the bazillionth, I'll always reply, it's no problem (I like getting messages!)

Unfortunately based on the leaked screenshots, this is my prediction (I haven't invested more than one day into this art as it's frustrating to imagine):

The spindly fingers and his height in the leaked images inform me (I suppose) that they are indeed leaning into the "little timmy has a cough" design as a friend of mine would say.

They're gonna stretch him and have him feel like a tree, like he's made out of metal branches pulsing with Void energy. The Hex Core is clearly going to be in the middle of his chest to power him instead of on the tip of his staff. The staff already got converted into a cane. Expect to see a LOT of holes and veins in him because that's the very first design thought a person comes up with when they want to convey something "ooo creepy! ooo alien!" (we usually discard our first ideas because they are generic.) And Riot is clearly transplanting Malzahar's thing onto Viktor because apparently they don't know what to do with this Machine Herald character. He's gonna be going mad because of VOID WHISPERS instead of actually suffering from a real untreated mental disorder.

The staff design is already clearly visible in the leaked image, and the only thing I have to say about it is that it looks like a lot of pointless design noise. None of those lumpy metal parts serve a purpose.

The claw may replace the third hand and it may come out of the shoulder itself for some reason, which is insanely impractical. It was mounted on his back in the original design for a reason. Current designs seem to think that an actual hand is too "naive"?

Even if on first glance they may share many elements, fundamentally they are two different characters. They fulfill completely different archetypes.

It doesn't matter if Arcane Viktor's cape is still blue on the outside and red on the inside, because the core of the character would be different. A coat of paint on the top doesn't determine his structure.

[storkmuffin]

Unwarranted Thoughts about Mingi (1/n?)

I do not yet have an Ateez bias. I'm just going through each of them like I'm picking a different chocolate piece out of the box, and it's just Mingi's turn in my mouth now, is all. If he's your favorite darling about whom only your thoughts are correct I am going to say up front that you are absolutely right, perfect, and impeccable. I fully agree in advance that I have no idea what I'm talking about whatsoever, and you should stop reading right now.

Why is This Guy an Idol and How Does It Work

There are very specific appearance related fetishes that Koreans have. It's all relative and very painful, actually, because the standards are so strict, but I will say that Mingi does meet all of the criteria, at once.

Tall > Short, Long legged > Long Waisted, Pale > Dark, Angular > Round faced, Small Head > Bubble Head, Narrow > Wide.

A mutual asked how the talent company could've known to launch Mingi as opposed to other candidates (where talent isn't enough or, sad to say, necessary to launch a successful show business career), like, did they know that he was going to be able to carry out a sexy persona when he was a lanky teen?

I would say yes. From what I know of the Korean entertainment industry, they can look at a relatively small child, prepubescent, and accurately predict what that child will be capable of doing in show business ten or fiteen years down the line. It's a weird capacity they've perfected. There's also a system in place - physical trainers, dieticians, plastic surgeons, dermatologists, stylists, make up artists - that only require the basics (be a pale, small headed, angular featured, long legged, slender person) to be able to churn out a standard Idol.

It's actually still physically very rare for someone to have all these traits in one body AND also grow up to be a tall man AND with a bass voice who is ALSO capable of enduring the very intense training to be an Idol. (To be fair, the training to be anything at all in Korea is superfucking intense - scholar, scientist, accountant, lawyer, dentist, nurse, pharmacist, civil servant, run of the mill office employee of Samsung, Hyundai, SK Hynix, LG, etc etc). On top of very much wanting to do this work, for himself, then, Mingi would've been constantly told to keep at it and not give up, even as he spent long days being also told that he was doing it wrong. (This my personal impression of life in the arts - the better you get, the more talented and 'advanced' you are, the more time you spend being told that you're doing it wrong LOL).

The problem Mingi has as an Idol is the non-standard personality he keeps displaying. A lot of my mutuals clock him as being autistic-spectrum. What stands out to me is his unwillingness or inability to be pleasant even on camera. The first time I encountered Mingi as a person of note in this group was during one of the reality content for the Ice On My Teeth music video. The staff had all of them 'break' ice balls that had little challenges and messages frozen within, in order to 'win' dental care related products.

Mingi was visibly not having a good day, nor a good time.

The caption in the first thing says, "He's just melting some ice but Mingi is a little bit scary today" and the second caption says, "He's making a noir film by himself." FOR NO REASON is implied. They even tell him, in camera, that he's being scary.

"No but you're actually being really, uh, sc- sc- scary."

Koreans generally don't say things directly in a command format - which in this case would be "STOP BEING SO SCARY" (그렇게 무섭게 하지 마세요!) - unless they're much more powerful than you and can speak to you in this way (very rare occurrence) OR they're willing to back up the attitude with actual physical violence. So for KQ Staff, the emphasis by the (faked?) stuttering is meant to convey, STOP THAT RIGHT NOW. But he didn't. He stayed pissed the whole time.

Sidebar to say: I really hate the way the word 'film noir' which is a very specific term of art for a specific genre of film and 'noir film' - the Konglish neologism which means something quite different - are interchangeably used in Korean colloquialism.

Reaction from the Korean internet was pretty harsh, actually. They fault him for having a bad attitude, in comparison to the other members. He's rude, they say, and disappointing. (He also refused to take the admittedly silly dental care gift they gave him as a 'prize.')

The commenter @다다다다오오올 (top right) says something that is pretty typical of the demands made on Kpop Idols: "아무리 힘들고 피곤해도 카메라 앞에선 티내지 않는게 아이돌의 숙명 아니겠나요" No matter how tired or a hard time you're having, if you're going to be an Idol, it's your obligation to not seem that way on camera.

Mingi is very bad at fulfilling this requirement, and because I initially found him shouty in a subgenre of K pop music that was already very loud and noisy (and yet, compelling!), I wrote Mingi off, and it didn't feel like a loss. I already had Wooyoung who is emobodies Eager To Please at all times, as well as San and Seonghwa who don't know how not to be pleasant and spoke in my home dialect. I was good.

Then I got to the health check up Wanteez and we had the (in)famous "난 나오면 그냥 깬다니까" moment of Mingi coming out of anesthesia and being so extremely proud of himself, even as Wooyoung gets increasingly annoyed with him.

Mingi asks the nurse, Do you find me annoying? And Wooyoung, leaving, says 어 짜증나 너 - yah you're annoying. Look at Mingi! He really did get 'stabbed' by Wooyoung's words. They really do take over his whole world.

I DID NOT REALIZE until I got to the end of this entire video that this kid, who gets so, so crushed that his cranky ass teammate calls him annoying, was the same person who was clearly contemplating shoving the ice ball he was told to make fun content with up someone's nostril.

His reaction, which is just to be crushed, as Yunho (who came to check on him) folds in half laughing (Mingi makes Yunho fold in half a lot by the way) at the situation, is so different from how all the others would react. If the roles were reversed, with Mingi calling Wooyoung "annoying," Wooyoung would probably just leap on Mingi and bite through his shoulder. San would say something. Seonghwa would smack. I don't even want to see Jongho's reaction. And so on.

Mingi has no filter, and I guess like many things in life, this is simultaneously his great weakness and his great talent. He's just so responsive. This is the answer then, for me. Mingi is an Idol because he has the unusual combiation of physicla traits and a unique sounding voice but above all is extremely expressive.

When something is funny, it's SO funny to him he hurts his hand smacking the table. He almost dislocates his jaw. He also has what I consider (as a desk bound person) a dancer reaction of expressing the amusement he feels with his whole body. He gets up out of his seat, involves his whole body in it. (Yunho, who is much more in his head even though he's a dancer, tries to understand and puzzle out a situation even as he reacts with laughter).

Mingi goes all out. That seems to be his artistic self. He doesn't have layers of self protective filter and cover between his artistic expression and the outermost layer of his skin.

Because of his big, generous, unfiltered expressiveness, if you don't go with the visuals and just listen to the Ateez songs, actually, it becomes increasingly clear that the most important singer in the whole group is Mingi.

Yeah I said it.

Mingi is musically the most important singer in Ateez.

It's not only because he has the most distinctive voice in Ateez.

Yeah I said it x2.

Mingi has the most distinctive voice of everyone in Ateez.

Ateez's songs are often excessively dramatic, and most of it sounds like Christian rock to me, with the overt Christianity subsumed under the extremely complicated, dystopic savior-fantasy lore they have going on as a narrative device. Mingi coming on like St. Jerome, like Elijah yelling out in the desert, is essential for Ateez to pull this off. He's the least reliant on the different noise sound effects (the kettle coming to a boil, the space ship engines, the train bell ringing past) that the production liberally deploys.

Take for example, Man On Fire. The one who carries the song is Mingi. Unless you're very very familiar with their individual voices, Yeosang sounds very similar to Seonghwa, and WooSan sound like one man, and Yunho, with his great facility for being husky and tenor interchangeably, just blends in with the rest. Jongho has a strong voice but it's not terribly expressive or flexible in the way he's asked to use it in these group songs. It's Mingi who sounds actually desperate, who actually sounds like he might set things (or himself, or uh, you) on fire, who knows what that feels like.

Both Hwa and San acknowledge that he owns the song.

The combination of his untrammeled personality and the hugeness of his voice makes Mingi a very unusual asset for Ateez. It doesn't hurt that he's striking looking with a model's height and build, and that he wants to be a star badly enough to avoid pasta so long he starts crying about it on camera, of course. But his specialness comes from his expressive capacity, and his capacity to be excessive, which is so difficult for any Korean to do. Mingi can scream and cry, despair and beg and rage, and not be ironically distanced from any of these feelings.

This is why he's an Idol, I think.

And apparently, in person, in performance, Mingi has something, that makes him undeniable to even those whose ults are someone else. Below is a youtuber whose ult is Yeosang, but after seeing the End of Year 2024 Ice on My Teeth performance live, she spends the majority of her review talking about Mingi. How he's really dangerous and She can't stop thinking about him even though he was too much and annoying and anyway Yeosang is her favorite, he really is, but all she can say about Yeosang is that he was very kind to fans, was very beautiful and cute, and ... nothing else. She couldn't even remember what he wore exactly, but she could remember each and every too much and annoying comment that Mingi made on stage.

By the way, if you speak any amount of Korean, I really recommend the 자매다만세 youtube channel that specializes in Ateez lore. They're charming and funny as fuck but also have the longest and most thorough Ateez lore video ever, which was apparently personally vetted and endorsed by Yeosang.