#the reason for everything in this show is love

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Trophy Boyfriend

Word count: 450

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: Lando Norris fully embraces his role as Y/n L/n’s devoted trophy boyfriend, happily standing in the background while she steals the spotlight.

________________________________________________________

Lando Norris had a lot of titles to his name—Formula 1 driver, McLaren’s golden boy, future world champion (hopefully). But none of them mattered quite as much as the one he held now: Y/n L/n’s boyfriend.

It was a role he took very seriously. Not because he was the main character in this relationship—he wasn’t, not even a little. Y/n was the main event, the superstar, the reason photographers nearly toppled over themselves trying to snap pictures when they walked into a room together.

She was everything. And he was just… well, Lando.

He didn’t mind.

“I love this dress,” he said, watching Y/n twirl in front of the mirror. It was something sleek, designer, probably gifted by a brand that wanted her to post about it.

“You think so?” she mused, adjusting the straps.

“I think,” Lando said, sliding his hands around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder, “that every single person at this event is going to wish they were me.”

Y/n laughed, rolling her eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“No, I’m right.” He grinned. “I’m literally dating you. Do you know how crazy that is?”

She turned in his arms, smoothing a hand through his curls. “I have a feeling you’re about to tell me.”

“I mean, look at you,” he continued dramatically. “Gorgeous. Talented. Everyone loves you. And then there’s me—your little trophy boyfriend.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow. “Little?”

“Well, figuratively.” He leaned in closer, voice dropping. “Not literally.”

She smacked his chest, but he could see the way her lips curled up. “Behave.”

“Never,” he murmured, stealing a quick kiss before she could stop him.

The gala was exactly what Lando expected—Y/n’s show, and he was just happy to be a part of it.

People flocked to her the second they arrived, showering her with compliments, gushing over her latest projects, asking for pictures. Lando, in the meantime, sipped his drink and stood a little off to the side, perfectly content to let her shine.

Occasionally, she would reach back for him, lacing their fingers together like a silent reminder: You’re still my favorite person here.

He liked that.

At some point, a well-meaning (but oblivious) businessman clapped Lando on the back and said, “Must be nice, huh? Being with someone like Y/n.”

Lando just grinned. “Mate, I wake up every day and wonder how I pulled it off.”

It was true. He had no delusions about who the star was in this relationship. Y/n walked into a room and owned it, and Lando? He was just happy to be the guy holding her purse when she needed both hands to take a picture.

And honestly? Best gig ever.

[starriniqhts]

THESE FIT SO WELL?!

BOYNEXTDOOR AS DIFFERENT ROMANCE TROPES

the different genres of romance between you and boynextdoor

( 対 ) boynextdoor x fem. reader 1247WC · so many different genres contains! skinship, mild swearing, cringe shit, terrible trope names / archive

은: i'm finally back after 589393 lightyears with a new boynextdoor fic ^^ i hope you guys enjoy!! since i'm here, i would like to remind you guys to not believe everything you see on the internet and that quick assumptions and accusations will cause regret in the future. let's always be kind instead of spreading hate ♡

myung jaehyun : playboy

cherry lollipops, smudged lipstick on his collar, lazy smirks, fingers tracing circles on your wrist

jaehyun is used to attention- he's practically bathing in it every single day. girls clamour for his gaze, hanging onto every teasing smirk, every lazy remark that drips with effortless charm. he plays his part well; never giving too much attention, always keeping them wanting more. one week he has a cute cheerleader clinging onto his arm and the next he has the school president walking by his side.

but with you, the game doesn't work.

you roll your eyes at every flirting thing he says, scoff at his cocky smirks, and call him out on his lazy drawl. it should annoy him, but it doesn't. and when he realises he doesn't want to play the game anymore, it hits him hard in the stomach.

the chase isn't about winning. really, it's about you.

one night, he leans in with his familiar grin, expecting you to push him away as usual. but you don't. instead, you meet his eyes, unbothered, and say, "if you're just playing, don't bother."

for the first time, jaehyun's speechless. he knows the truth, he knows that he doesn't want to play anymore, not with you.

park sungho : bodyguard romance

tension filled silence in the car, pulling you behind him without a thought, "stop doing stupid shit"

park sungho doesn't do stupid shit like romance. he's not paid to participate in whatever cliché, sappy things you see on the tv. he's paid to protect, to stay by your side no matter what and make sure you don't wind up stalked, injured or dead.

but you make the job so very difficult. always refusing to listen, constantly putting him into situations that make him heart race for all the wrong reasons.

park sungho doesn't do romance.

"stop doing stupid stuff," sungho mutters for the hundredth time, grabbing your wrist to pull you back from the crowd. you huff, yanking free, but you don't move away. the closeness between you two is suffocating, but neither of you step back.

sungho knows he shouldn't let his guard down, shouldn't let himself feeling anything beyond duty.

it's just a job.

so why is it starting to sound like he's gaslighting himself?

lee sanghyuk : unspoken love

lingering glances in crowded rooms, love letters never sent, late night walks, almost confessions

there are words left unsaid between you an riwoo, filling every silence, every stolen glance. you've been friends forever- so close yet so incredibly far. he memorises how you tuck your hair behind your ear when you're nervous, the way your voice gets softer when you're tired. but he never says anything, never lets those feelings spill past the walls. but still, he wonders if you notice the way his gaze lingers a second too long to be normal, the way his breath catches when you laugh.

maybe you do, maybe you don't.

the words are always at the tip of riwoo's tongue, threatening to spill out, but he manages to swallow them and keep quiet. even now, sitting next to you on the sofa of the dimly lit living room as you watch a movie. riwoo isn't focused on whatever that's playing on the screen. he's focused on you.

riwoo compensates lost words with silent care. his hands finds yours in busy streets, opens the doors for you, remembers your favourite snacks and buys them for you even when you don't ask.

riwoo likes to think that you're just waiting for him to speak first.

he will. one day.

han dongmin : academic rivals to lovers

scribbled insults on margins of papers, stolen glances over textbooks, clicking pens in silence, “admit it, you like me” whispered against your ear

taesan really, really, really wishes that you would just disappear.

he's always been the best- tope of every leaderboard, fastest on track, the one teachers nod approvingly at when the test scores go up. he thrives on competition because, until now, he's never really had any.

then you show up.

scholarship kid, plucked straight out of your public school and into private after you all-hundreds on this year's exams. suddenly, taesan's name isn't the only one at the top of rankings. suddenly, there's someone who walks into class with the same cocky, unshakable confidence, someone who meets his gaze with a smug smirk when grades are posted. you sent in his usual spot in the library, take his record in the physics competition.

taesan hates you. really he does.

but he hates even more that when you lean over his desk to throw a snarky remark at him, his heart races. he hates that he noticed the way your eyes light up when you solve a question before him, or the way his brain short circuits when your shoulder brushes against his in the crowded corridors. he hates how he can't deny how pretty you are.

taesan really, really hates that he might not really hate you at all.

kim donghyun : soulmates

the scent of home every time you’re near, deja vu, nostalgia, a warmth in his chest he can’t explain, blurry memories

leehan doesn't believe in fate. why would he? he believes in reality, in the tangible, in the things he can see and touch. love is just a series of chemical reactions, and the idea of soulmates- of invisible red strings tying two people together- has always seemed like something out of a children's storybook.

but then there's you. you, who appeared in his life out of nowhere. when and where and how, leehan can't really place. it feels like you've been around forever and for no time at all at the same time. you, who see to understand him without words, who always knows when something's wrong before he even says it. leehan catches himself staring at the way your fingers brush against his when you two walk side by side, at the way your laughter sounds like a memory he can't quite place.

"it feels like we've met before," you say once, absentmindedly.

leehan freezes. because he's felt that too, that strange pull in his chest, the whisper of something inevitable. and suddenly, fate doesn't seem so impossible anymore.

"yeah, maybe we have."

kim woonhak : love at first sight

stammered compliments, heart racing, pink cheeks, “can i—uh—i mean, do you wanna—never mind.”

it's over for woonhak from the first time he sees you. from the second he lays his eyes on you, his brain short circuits, he talkers faster than he can think, and he's grinning like an idiot without even realising.

he's hopelessly, embarrassingly obvious about his big, fat crush on you.

everyone sees it. you see it, which is new, since you're pretty oblivious about stuff like this. the way woonhak stumbles over his words when you're around, the way his ears turn red when you tease him.

you think woonhak's cute. woonhak thinks he's done for.

"you're staring again," you point out one day, laughing. woonhak panics, eyes darting everywhere but you.

“wha-what? no, no, i was just, uh, thinking! yeah, thinking,” 

you raise and eyebrow at him, and woonhak buries his face in his hands with a groan, face pink. he’s messed up. again.

“you’re so obvious,” you say, shaking your head at him. 

woonhak just grins, ears burning. yeah, he is obvious. hopelessly, shamelessly so. 

[lucidfairies]

— mess around (part two) ➡️ part one!

synopsis: it wasn't everyday you moved to the south, surrounded by cowboys and their women, but here you were, and your new neighbor simply couldn't get any more enticing

pairing: rancher!sevika x married housewife!reader

warnings: cheating, dom!sev, sub!reader, reader is bolder in this one, face sitting, fingering, finger sucking, size kink, back shots, breeding kink, rougher than part one(!), light bondage, sevika is a bit meaner in this one but not outside of sex, new pet names (!!!!), choking, thigh riding, cum plug

a/n: I want to make it very clear that even though pregnancy is mentioned several times, r will never get pregnant with an unwanted child or with the husband figure, it's solely for plot !

wc: 4.4k

collaboration: my biggest love and thank you to @sevsgiirl for literally leading me through this and giving me all the ideas and also reading my rough drafts lol! 🙏🙏

Sevika was obscenely tired. This was her third week running only getting two hours of sleep, tossing and turning, unable to fall back into sleep. When she did sleep, it was short and light, not sufficient enough. It was eating her alive.

There were a number of reasons - her dog had been sick for days, the horses needed a different feed schedule, she briefly had to travel up North to visit relatives, changing her time zone. But most of all, and most obviously, you.

Everything about you. Your eyes, your hips, your smell. The way your hair flicked when you walked, your smile when you greeted the neighbors, the way you knew something about everyone. You were the complete opposite of her, and it was driving her mad.

She hated you. Hated your perfection, and the blush in your cheeks. She hated the way you dressed, pretty sundresses that hardly past mid thigh, bows, and those fuck ass boots. She hated you because she needed you.

She was desperate to get you a real pair of boots, ones that weren't from some northern shop impersonating southern culture. She needed to show you off and parade you around, have you sit on her lap at the bar with her hat on while she played poker, and tell everyone that you were hers.

But that wasn't ever going to happen. You were never going to be hers, divorce was too much of a hassle for a woman like you, who probably wanted a million things she couldn't give you.

-

“Babe, can you come here?” Your husband called you from the kitchen. You were perched on your bed, folding the week's laundry. You stood and made your way to the kitchen, stomach twisting. Ever since your night with Sevika, your husband wanting to speak to you worried you. There's no way he found out. But what if he did?

“What's up, honey?” He beckoned you to sit down across from him at the small table, and you did. He had papers in his hand, messy scribbles covering the page.

“I wanted to have a serious conversation about kids,” he paused for a moment while his words sank in, “I asked you to stay home so that we could start our family, but you keep declining to actually start it. I can't keep you home like this if you aren't going to do anything.” You sighed.

You knew this was coming - every time he brought it up, you shut it down. Every time you slept together you had him wear protection, or you made sure you had taken the pill that morning. You couldn't identify why you didn't want to have children with him at the moment, but the feeling was there, and it was strong.

“I'm just not ready yet,” you insisted, “if you want me to go to work I can, but I do quite a bit around the house. Just because we don't have children yet doesn't mean that my work is diminished.” You stood your ground, annoyed at the constant assumption that you didn't do anything.

“Babe,” he sighed angrily, pinching the bridge of his nose while he formulated what to say, “every time we talk about this you say you're not ready. We've been married for three years, when will you be ready?” You shrugged, embarrassment getting the best of you. “You only have so many years to have kids. I can’t sit around and waste them while you figure out if you’re ready or not.”

His words were like a punch to the gut, especially because you knew them to be true. You got into this relationship and eventually this marriage knowing his intention with children, and up until recently, you thought you shared that intention. But the longer you thought about bearing his children, the more displeasing the thought became.

“We can start trying, then. But not until next week, come July.” If you had to do it, you would at least have it when you wanted to. Your husband grinned, rising from the table to give you a hug, and press a kiss to your head.

“I’m glad it’s time,” you put on your best fake smile, “I’m headed to bed. Mind cleaning up?” He waved towards the dinner dishes as he walked towards the bedroom. “See you tomorrow, my love.”

You sat in your seat at the table for a long time, simply looking at it. Sevika’s words from the night she had dinner rang in your mind like a screeching alarm - I’m a capable woman, babygirl. I can clean my own plate. She wanted to help, even after working all day. She chose to help.

Before you could choose the wiser, you were shooting up from your seat and clearing the dishes into the sink. You washed them quickly, not bothering to scrub very hard before tossing a robe over your shoulders and slipping on some shoes. Quietly, trying not to wake your husband, you peeled open the door and slipped it shut, sneaking down the steps carefully. You knew where they creaked now, you had lived here long enough for that.

There was a clunking sound and loud groan when you knocked on her door. Part of you hoped that, if you knocked softly enough, she wouldn’t hear it, or that she would be asleep. The other part of you begged to see her, even though it wasn’t right. Something about her drew you in, wrong or right.

The door flew open, and there stood Sevika in all her glory. Except, she didn’t look as if she felt glorious. There were eye bags under her eyes that made it look as if she hadn’t slept in a week, and her face was angry. Her downturned lips only frowned further at the sight of you, and you felt small, beginning to question your decision.

She must’ve noticed. Her face softened, still angry, but not as angry as before. She simply looked at you, waiting for something. “Hi Sev,” you whispered, meekly. “I don’t really know why I’m here.” You looked over your shoulder, gazing at the home that was calling you back, the husband that was asleep in the bed you shared.

“I can’t help you with that, sugar.” She said, gruffly. “When you know what you want, come and find me.” She went to close the door, but on instinct, your hand flew out to stop it.

“Can I come in?” She looked at you for a moment longer, eyes sullen and mind begging to send you back home. But she opened the door nonetheless, allowing you to step in. You had never been in Sevika’s home, but it looked just like you would think. Clean, homey, a little boring. Lots of pictures of people you didn’t recognize, aside from the ones you met at the bar.

“What can I do ya for, angel?” The name made you breathless. It effortlessly brought you back to when she had you riding her, calling you angel.

“I thought maybe we could talk,” You moved through her house slowly, taking a spot in the living room. It felt embarrassing, inviting yourself in like this, late. “Unless you’re sleeping. I understand if I woke you.” She punched out a laugh.

“I ain’t slept in weeks,” she plopped down across from you, the L shaped couch making it easy to see her. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Husband doin’ you wrong?” You considered whether you should answer yes.

“We’re going to start trying for a baby,” you told her, cringing at the sentence. You could see her face drop and her eyes change, but she was quick to recover. “I’m not sure I want to.” Your gaze fell to your hands as you crossed your ankles.

“Want to try, or want to have a baby?” She clarified, brows knit as she leaned back and fell into her manspread once again.

“I guess both,” you sighed, “I don’t know if I’m ready to have a baby with him, and the trying part..” you trailed off, considering your options as to how to phrase what you wanted to convey. “When we.. did what we did, it was much more fun than when my husband and I sleep together,” a proud smirk found Sevika’s lips. “He’s very boring, he doesn’t like to try things. In out, in out.” You made a gesture with your hands and she laughed. “He’s always on top of me, it never really changes. I don’t like it.”

Sevika hummed. There were so many ways she could take this. “You don’t say,” her accent was thick this time of night. It made you wonder what she was thinking about. “So you want somethin’ rougher?” You nodded slowly, not 100% sure what ‘rougher’ meant. “Tell me, sugar, has anyone ever bent you over?”

Your eyes blew, and your lips parted. Sevika’s clit started to beat at the expression. It was perfect, she longed to frame it. “No, I don’t believe so.” She tapped her thigh, looking at you with low eyes.

“Come,” she instructed, and for some reason, you stood, and found placement on her thigh. Her hands gripped your hips in a tighter grip than the one she had the first time you were like this with her. There was something different in her now. “Tell me what you want. What he isn’t giving you.”

You thought for a moment. “I’ve always thought about having my hands bound,” you told her, quietly. You let out a soft gasp as she used her tight grip on your hips to roll them forward slowly. “I don’t know how that would work, but I’ve wondered. Sometimes I think about my throat..” Once again you trailed off, unable to formulate the right thing.

“What about your throat, darlin’?” Sevika pushed, bringing you down on her thigh again.

“Having it squeezed, being choked in a sense.” Sevika let out a soft ‘mhm’, reaching up and cupping your face, swiping her thumb along your bottom lip before her hand fell to your throat, gently wrapping around your windpipe. Your hands rushed to her wrist as she tightened her grip, forcing your head up. She held you there, large hand wrapped tightly around your throat while her mech hand worked with your hips.

The fuzzier your brain got, the better the muscle of her thigh felt under you. Sevika rocked you and rocked you until you were finding your own pace, forcing your cunt down onto her thigh in rapid, uncoordinated motions. You were so close, stomach twisting as you gasped for air under Sevika’s hand, just for her to hold you down and restrict your movements. “Sevy,” you whined, trying to push and get to your finish.

“No baby,” she hushed. “Y’r gon’ have to wait. You can do that, can’tcha?” With a huff you nodded, wondering how long you’d have to wait. What did she even mean by ‘wait’? Sevika lifted you off her lap and stood you up, standing with you and pressing a hand into your back, pushing you until you began walking.

Her bedroom was lovely. She had a large bed, probably because she was so tall. The sheets were a dark shade of purple and made, creating a clean look for the already clean room. Once you got in the room she shut and locked the door, as if anyone else would walk in. “Sit. I’m gonna get some things, sugar. I’ll be right back.” You sat on the edge of her bed and watched her move around, first grabbing a box from a drawer and then leaving, returning shortly after with a bunched up rope.

“What’s all of that?” You asked, trying to catch a glimpse of what she had aside from the rope. God, of course she had rope. She was a rancher after all, she probably took it from the stables. She sat her things down on her nightstand next to her bed, turning to you.

“Nothin’ you needa worry your pretty little head about, sweetheart.” Sevika came to you and leaned down, tilting your chin to her and capturing your lips in a kiss. It grew from a chaste kiss to a feverous one quickly, with Sevika bearing down on you, pushing her weight into you, making you hers, just for tonight. She pulled away from you, climbing into and laying back on the bed. “Get up and strip for me, peach.”

“What if I want you to undress me?” You pouted. It felt strange, acting like this. You wanted her hands on you, you didn’t want to bother doing it yourself. That’s what you were here for. Not having to do things yourself like you did with your husband.

“You said you didn’t want borin’,” she said, nonchalantly, as she laid back and placed her human arm behind her head, muscles flexing in the best way possible to keep her upright. “So get up and strip.” Huffing, you did as told.

You would never have looked at the situation and called it something as vulgar as a strip tease, but the slowness of you stripping yourself and the way Sevika’s eyes fell upon your body as you did made the thought cross your mind. You were slow to pull your pajama top up, slow to slide your pajama shorts down your thighs, slow to rid yourself of your panties. God, she could come off the sight of it.

Once you were naked, she beckoned you over with her mech hand, having you sit in her lap. “You look so damn pretty like this, all naked in my lap.” She felt as if this was her first time having a woman in her lap. She didn’t know where to start, all of her favorite things were before her, yearning to be touched and pulled and sucked.

She leaned into your neck, sucking the skin there briefly before traveling down your body. She caught your nipple in her mouth, and by some miracle, you could’ve sworn it felt better than the first time. Maybe it was because, in her lap, you had something to grind down against when her teeth clashed over the sensitive spot in your nipple, and when she pushed her tongue up into the spot after nipping it.

“Sevika,” you moaned, head thrown back as she did her best work on your tits. Fuck, your tits. She barely thought about them the first time, but now? Now. She got to see them in all their glory, nipples perky and waiting, so fucking ready for her. She didn’t even bother with her mech arm, she needed to feel you. Feel the way your nipple hardened when she rolled it between her fingers and feel the way you gasped and ground down on her every time she made you feel good.

She made you feel good. Nobody else. Only her.

She switched tits, and she couldn’t resist rutting up into you when a string of drool dripped from your boob. She didn’t even realize she was sucking enough that drool could fucking drip from you nipple, but it was a sight from God nonetheless.

She took much longer on your tits this night than she had the previous night you spent together, and it was lovely. But, to your humiliation, you had completely soaked through her pajama pants. The material was thin, but it was sopping from your grinding and dripping. She could feel it on her leg, and the feeling was driving her up the wall.

Sevika didn’t find herself begging very often, especially not at the mercy of a woman she had in bed, but when her eyes fell between your wet nipples and the patch on her thigh, she couldn’t find herself doing anything but. “Please ride my face, sweet thing, need y’on my face.” Her hands rested on your thighs in a tight hold.

You sat up, going up and up until your cunt rested over her nose, and your thighs found purchase on either side of her head. She brought her hands to your hips and pulled, dragging you down onto her mouth. You were quick to learn that sitting on Sevika’s face was the best feeling you’d felt at this point in your life.

However, you were also quick to learn that her nose had more purpose than just fitting her face and breathing. Your clit found purpose on her nose while you rode her tongue, so much so that it made the experience that much better. You must’ve looked like a fucking slut the way you were humping her face, but the feeling of her flattening her tongue and letting you take control was one that you never wanted to escape.

Your orgasm hit you like a punch, making you double over on her face. With ease, Sevika lifted you off her face and pinned you to the bed by your lips, licking you up and making your legs shake around her head. “Sevy, it’s too much,” you whined, but she didn’t care to listen. Her middle finger was pushing against your entrance no matter how much you whimpered and moaned, finding solace in your pussy as she fucked you again.

Her pace was ruthless, fucking you with two of her fingers and arching them into the best spot inside you. You were gripping the sheets, arching your back, doing anything you could to get away from her relentless abuse of your cunt, but she was stronger than you, and you loved it.

Sevika loved it too. She loved the way that, if she wanted to, she could get you to do anything she wanted. You were easy to hold down, easy to pick up and throw around the room, she loved being bigger than you. It drove her mad, the way you looked next to her, or under her, or better yet, on top. She simply couldn’t get enough.

“We’re gon’ try somethin’ new, peach,” she kissed your pelvis, overtop where her fingers were still logged inside you. “I’m gonna stretch you out, make you all good and ready for my dick.” The words hardly registered in your head before a third finger was probing in your entrance. And it hurt. Three of her large fingers were wider than anything you had taken before, and it made you wonder how wide her strap was if her fingers were stretching you this much.

“Vika it hurts,” you cried, and she paused, letting you adjust to the feeling before pushing more in you. She adored the view, the way your pussy gaped and pulled her in. With little further struggle, all three fingers were knuckle-deep in you, and you were clenching tightly around them.

“That’s my pretty girl,” her voice was hoarse, watching you take her. If this was this good, she couldn’t imagine what her strap would look like bottomed out in you, greedy pussy sucking her in. She fucked your cunt slowly, building up your orgasm with each pump, until you were on the brink, and once you were there, she attached her lips to your clit and sucked, pulling everything she could out of you.

You came again with a shriek, overstimulation getting to the best of you. She had you coming for maybe a full minute, getting everything she could out of you before stuffing her fingers in your mouth. You hoped this would become a routine - her fucking you then making you suck your cum off her fingers. The way she looked at you was irreplaceable.

When she was finished, she was giving you a whole new set of instructions. “On your knees, face the headboard.” You did as told, waiting patiently as she trifled through her things. You felt the bed dip and her body take position behind you. “Gimme y’r hands, bunny.” The new nickname had you reeling.

You placed your hands behind your back and she gripped them both in her mechanical hand, and soon after, you felt the rough material of rope lacing your skin. She pulled tight, letting the scratchy material dig into your skin. “Be good, or I’ll have you comin’ till you can’t fucking think.” She whispered in your ear, placing a small kiss below your ear before pushing you forward and bending you over.

With a squeal, you went cheek first into the pillows, ass up. Sevika pressed her mech hand into the arch in your back, pushing down and down until you were arching up as much as you could. Sevika smirked, not that you could see. You looked so pretty like this. Your pussy was drenched, waiting for her dick. She swiped two fingers through your folds, collecting your wetness and smearing her strap with it, before lining her tip up with your entrance.

You whimpered when she pushed into you, the feeling different than her fingers. It was different than anything you’d felt - the rubber wasn’t warm like when you got fucked by your husband, obviously, and as she bottomed out, it was insatiably better than any way your husband had fucked you.

Maybe her strap was longer, or maybe it was the position she had you in, but the stretch of your cunt and the feeling of her being in you made your head spin. She pressed a firm hand into your shoulderblades as she began to work her hips, fucking you gently at first. She couldn’t watch anything but the sight of her strap disappearing fully in you, and it was growing harder and harder each breathing minute to restrain herself from fucking you as roughly as she could.

Really, there was no luck for her the minute your little uh, uh uh’s started, matching each thrust as the air got punched out of you. She grabbed your hip roughly and fucked into you harder, the skin of her thighs slapping loudly against your ass as her pace quickened.

“Fuck baby, y’r so good, such a good pussy.” She groaned, base of the harness fucking against her clit in just the right place. Her pace only got faster, and you were practically crying to god. It was no less than the best thing you'd felt in your life.

“Vika,” you moaned, dragging out the ‘a’ while her pace grew restless. She needed your pussy. It was like she was high out of her mind, addicted to your body and your cunt. “Vika, Vika, oh, daddy!” Her hips came to a stuttered stop.

Before you could apologize, her mech hand was wrapping tightly around the back of your neck and pulling you up off the bed, against her chest. She continued her original pace, the new angle hitting even better than before. “You call y’r husband that, sweetheart?” She groaned.

“No,” you whined, and she grabbed the rope, pulling you into a deeper arch against her. “Just you, Vika.” Her head fell into the crook of your neck with a deep groan.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she pushed you back down, reaching around and rubbing your clit with her human hand. Her pace and the clit stimulation had your stomach twisting. “Wanna put a baby in you,” she moaned before she could think. The conversation you guys had early resurrected in her brain, and the thought of fucking a baby into you, just the thought. Fuck, she could've come on sight.

“Please,” you whined, high pitched and fucking disgusting. “Put a baby in me Vika,” she was going to fucking explode. Her hand found your throat again, leaning over you and squeezing as she fucked you as deep as she could. You were so fucking close, the feeling almost overwhelming.

“Gon’ make you a mama, peach,” the idea crawled into her mind and she knew it would never leave. Fucking you pregnant with her baby. If she could, she would never stop. “Fuck,” her moan was much higher pitched than any of her others, and you could tell she was growing just as close as you were, “take it, take it, take it,” she moaned in between thrusts, hand only tightening around your neck. “Fucking take it, nghh,”

You came at the same time, but you could barely keep yourself from coming again when she reached down and squeezed, filling you up and leaving you spent. You moaned again, rocking back into her.

She pulled out slowly, letting you adjust to being without her as your cunt drooled. You went to move and she slapped your ass, making you yelp. “Stay.” She commanded, and you did.

It was truly a humiliating position. You were ass up, drooling like a fool while her cum dripped from your cunt. When she came back, she had a toy, and she wasted no time pressing it into you. “Keep this in ya’ till you get home, y’hear me? Need you full of my cum, bunny.”

She unraveled your hands and you rolled over, the plug shifting in you just enough to roll against your sensitive g-spot. “How'd you like that, pretty? Rough enough for my girl?” You watched as she stripped herself of her strap and put on a clean pair of purple boxers.

You simply hummed, shifting in her bed and rolling onto her pillows. “I like you a lot, Sev.” You mumbled, fuzzy, fucked out brain speaking before registering. “Wanna keep coming over.”

Sevika sighed. “Wish you could, sugar plum.” She came to you and rubbed your thighs. “But for now, you oughta get home. Y’r husband's waitin’,” you groaned, shutting your eyes tightly. “‘m sorry, angel.” You sat up, letting her bring your clothes to you.

“Where are my panties?” You asked with a pout as you trifled through the mound of clothes she presented you with.

She pressed a kiss into your forehead, but you could feel her smirk under it. “I’m keepin’ those, peach.” You giggled, slipping your top over you and standing to slip your shorts up. “You best do what I say ‘nd keep that in you.” Her tone was low as she watched you dress from her relaxed position on the bed.

“I will,” you promised, reaching over and placing a finger kiss on her lips. “Wish you could watch me drip, though.” You pouted.

“Don't say shit like that,” she growled, “or I'll have you bent over again.” You shrugged, smirk painting your lips.

“Bye Sevy,” you said quietly as you slipped on your shoes and robe. “I'll see you.” She sent you a short goodbye and you were leaving her home, traveling back across the ride and into your house.

What a life, you thought. You spent the time before you fell asleep thinking about what life would be like with Sevika. Having Sevika’s babies, walking down the aisle to Sevika. And boy, it was good to think about.

taglist: @sevsgiirl @chaosisclassy @ilovesevika88 @2hiigh2cry @glass-apothecary @zthebean27 @sli-v3r @carotenoidstereo @hbwrelic @savedforlaterr @sunflowerwinds @megamultifandomtrashposts @thatsmadiculous @thehoneybeesting @moodient @jinxvex @lez-zuha @sookaihrts @belovedisappointment @rereanduselessbird @sksksscarlet @coneyislandhorrorqueen @prwttiestbunny @ghostlylittlemoths @half-of-a-gay @aiden-slayyyys @womenlover360 @luphelia @maximoff-jp @losernb @dayfeelinglighter @powderpinkandsweeet @gumboug @andyslovingwife @hello222things @ayooooohush @yoursimhannah @yesplstodaysatan @purplehazzes @xblinkx2 @mistershotz @lilithyys @abbyanderswife @stmvivs @theoreticalfreak @deliciouslydeviantsatan @lonely-nerd-sodaholic @misswannadieqwq @wingedhallows

[pisceanfilm]

⋆ ｡  𐀔  ° ‧     what does this person want you to know?

KEYWORDS: romance, relationships, (past) situationships, seperation, energy check between you and your person of romantic interest.

ꕤ * ． pile one. → ꕤ * ． pile two. → ꕤ * ． pile three.

relax your body, close your eyes, and take a deep breath. ask yourself: "which pile has a message for me today?" when you open your eyes, what image did your eyes fall on? what image do you feel most drawn to energetically? that's your pile!

this reading is timeless! it will cross your path whenever it's meant to find you 🍀 while my main intention was to channel someone you're already involved with, you can also use this for your sp, a future partner, a soulmate, or whoever you're thinking about!!

PILE # 01

your person is a true yearner, i'll tell you this much. their heart is very fragile, they want you to know they're scared of getting hurt, of being betrayed. this is a person who didn't have many healthy relationships in the past. they're confused, unsure what to do, and just wishes to avoid it all right now.

they're very much fantasising about a future with you, though... they want it all with you, they loooove your laugh. (i'm seeing that maybe they want to travel with you? explore the world together is what i heard.) with you on their side, they feel invincible. they really want you on their team. when this person has been processing their emotions healthily, i see that they're very attentive, unafraid of showing a passionate desire towards you, and generally very caring and loving. they appreciate you so much, you're the brightest star in their existence.

however, if this person isn't standing strong in their emotions, i see them being very hot and cold. when you're together, everything feels right. you feel secure, you feel like there's something there. but when you're apart i see that you're very confused by the energy of your relationship. your mind appears to be your biggest enemy: do they like me? am i good enough for them? is this something that could work out? (i see that this is you picking up on the energy of your person... their confusion and doubts are making you doubtful as well.)

what i'm hearing is that you need to focus on your own healing and stability, so you can help this person heal energetically as well. this is a connection that's mostly guided by the divine. (currently there's a lot happening behind the scenes that you aren't even aware of.) you're meant to heal and complete certain cycles with this person for sure, this is not the end of the connection. so have faith, and trust that everything will align!!

a letter from your person: do you think about me too? i can't get you out of my head, no matter how much i try. you're always there. it frustrates me, how easy it would be for you to secure a spot inside of my heart. how well we could work together if i let my guard down. i'm scared, though. scared of hurting you, scared of hurting myself, scared of failing. what if i have something so beautiful with you and then ruin it by my fears and self sabotaging tendencies? i don't know why you still stick around, but i'm trying to be a better person. please call me out on my bullshit, i need you to be firm and stand your ground. don't take shit from me, i know i need to step up. i care for you, i'm trying to put my ego aside.

PILE # 02

god help my soul, i'm sensing a very intense and determined energy coming from your person 😭 this is definitely giving me the energy of an ex, or a situationship that was meant to take off but somehow didn't (i see this being your person's fault, for sure). this person absolutely regrets losing you. they're the reason things aren't moving forward. they blame themselves, they're angry and devastated. they wish they could've done things differently.

in the most favourable outcome, i see this person working on healing themselves. they're going through an ego death/dark night of the soul and are questioning everything and everyone around them. in this reflection i see them wanting to become a better person (for you), if you're willing to give them a chance. they want to love you right, they want to show you how much you mean to them... i see them wanting to swoop in and steal you away so you can ride into the sunset together!!

if this person refuses to face their demons, however, i see that spirit is going to give them a very difficult time unfortunately</3 they will hit them with the same harsh lessons over and over again until they finally see the light. in this case i see spirit keeping this connection in a separation (or limbo) in order to protect you. you can't heal this person right now... if they open their eyes, if they're able to see... they would understand what you truly mean to them. what a treasure they had in front of them. they will get there, though. it might take some time, i'm hearing.

depending on your situation with this person, only take them back if you can see that they've changed!! you know this is the case when they come back and show humble energy, that they're able to admit that they were wrong. i see, for some of you, they truly fucked up. so please use your discernment! losing you has been their biggest regret, though, and they will be carrying this guilt for a very long time...

a letter from your person: i'm going to win you back. i'll return to you and prove that i can be the person you need me to be. i'm sorry for hurting you in the past, i'm sorry for making you feel like you weren't good enough. apologies won't cut it, i know things need to change. i'm working on facing my demons. you were right, you made me realise i need to heal. i hope you still will be there when i come back... do you have someone new? are you willing to forgive me? i messed up, and losing you will be the biggest regret of my life.

PILE # 03

this is such a sweet and gentle energy, i just want to squish their cheeks<33 i see many different scenarios for you two. you could be dating, this could be a secret admirer, this could be your friend... this person feels very hesitant to me. i feel like they often have a poker face or wear a mask. i sense that you might pick up that they're hiding something from you/aren't being 100% authentic. don't be afraid, they aren't hiding anything malicious! if anything, i see they're hiding the depth of their emotions for you. they fear coming off too strong, they fear scaring you away. if you're in a relationship together, i see them wanting to take the next step... (making things official, living together, an engagement maybe? 🤭) they want to move things forward in a fruitful way, they want to give you all the love in the world. they're sooooo gentle with you, this makes my heart want to burst with love. they have such good intentions with you and they want to make you happy for as long as you'll have them<3

i don't feel any negative energies for this pile</3 literally, the worst case scenario here is that your person is a bit hesitant and reluctant to show the depths of their true feelings for you. they fear rejection, they fear being judged by you. (i see this person really cares and values your opinion of them, so your rejection would hurt tbh.) they're mostly testing the waters right now, trying to figure out what you want and what you're ready for. this is a very considerate person! but again, their insecurities might stop them from taking any action right now.

you have such a special place in their heart, it's no joke. you must have such a beautiful and powerful energy because this person literally loves every. single. thing. about. you. they see you as their sun, their moon, their stars, their whole universe... you mean a lot to them. i think the depth of their emotions scares them as well, to be honest. but i see them being brave and facing this head on. they want you, they know they want you, so i see them making a very significant move in the very near future.

please, my pile 3, be gentle with their heart<3 their energy is so pure and wholesome, they could be such a bright light in your darkness! i'm hearing that, if you aren't sure of this person's intentions, know that it's safe to trust them. you'll be very pleasantly surprised with what's waiting for you if you open your heart!

a letter from your person: do you like me? you shine so bright, sometimes it's blinding me. you radiate so much warmth, you make me so happy. when i'm with you there's no other place i'd rather be. did you know this? i'm placing my heart in your hands, i surrender myself to you...

(i'm not getting much more from them because this person is a bit shy... but when i'm in their energy... their heart just glows thinking about you. i see shy smiles, unable to keep eye contact without blushing, i feel like sometimes they need to take breaks from you because you're so overwhelming. love love love this energy 🩷)

[theskywithin]

Birth Chart Breakdown - Mars Through The Houses

We speak of Mars as drive, desire, action, but beneath every spark is a story. A reason we move the way we do. A part of ourselves we’re trying to protect, prove, or reclaim.

First House

Your strength is seen, but rarely softened. You lead. You assert. You enter every room like it owes you space. But even warriors long to rest. You’ve learned to carry your identity like a shield, but who are you when you’re not proving you belong? Even fire needs a place to burn safely, without burning through everything.

Second House

You chase security like it owes you proof. As if having more will finally make you enough. You work hard. You hold tight. You protect what’s yours. But self-worth isn’t earned, it’s remembered. Let your value rise from within, not from what you build to be seen as valuable.

Third House

You speak like it’s survival. Sharp, fast, relentless. Your mind is wired for action, always reaching for understanding, but sometimes, silence speaks louder. Not every truth needs defending. Not every thought needs to be said to be known.

Fourth House

You protect your inner world like a soldier on sacred ground. There’s a storm in your ribcage that only you know how to navigate. You want peace, but sometimes peace feels unsafe. Not every memory needs to be rewritten. Some things can simply be witnessed, without turning them into wars.

Fifth House

You love loudly. Create fiercely. Every emotion becomes a firework, quick, bright, unforgettable. You chase the thrill because it reminds you you’re alive. But your joy doesn’t have to be earned through fire. Let passion be a home, not a chase. Stay long enough for it to bloom.

Sixth House

You work like your worth depends on it. You keep moving, fixing, improving, hoping the inner chaos might finally go quiet. You measure love in usefulness. But rest is also a form of service. You’re allowed to slow down. You’re allowed to just be.

Seventh House

You don’t just want love, you enter battle for it. Your passion in partnership is unmatched, but sometimes you fight because connection feels vulnerable. Not every relationship needs saving. Not every bond is proof of your power. Let yourself be met, not just pursued.

Eighth House

Intensity lives in your bones. You crave the kind of connection that consumes and remakes. Power, trust, surrender, they’re never simple for you. But transformation doesn’t always require destruction. You can release without disappearing. You can love without losing the parts you’ve fought so hard to reclaim.

Ninth House

You move like there’s something to outrun. You chase freedom with holy fire, as if motion itself can offer meaning. But freedom without reflection can leave you ungrounded. Let your beliefs evolve as you do. The horizon will always be there, but truth lives in how you carry it with you.

Tenth House

You climb. You conquer. You build. You measure yourself by impact, by progress, by proof. But legacy without soul is just performance. You are more than your public self. Let your ambition serve your inner world too. True success is showing up in both.

Eleventh House

You fight for the future. For the group. For the cause. You dream big, act fast, and pull others toward the vision, but even visionaries get lonely. When you’re always leading, it’s easy to forget to belong. Your power multiplies when you trust others to walk beside you.

Twelfth House

Your fire moves inward. A quiet battle. A sacred undoing. You’re not always sure why you act, or where the emotion is coming from, only that it demands release. Your anger speaks in symbols. Your passion hides in dreams. But what grows in the dark is not weak, it’s ancient, holy, and learning to rise in its own way.

[rosiewitchescottage]

When portraying the character as a 'Strong Female Character' becomes more important than giving her character and personality, then yes. We're not going to connect with her.

The perfect example that I can think of is the contrast between animated Mulan and live action Mulan.

Animated Mulan achieves some amazing feats, she saves China, for goodness sake.

And yet, she doesn't lose her vulnerability, she has to work hard to get to where she needs to be.

And we love her, because she's real! Of course she doesn't get into the army and can do everything the same way as the men.

Clearly she's got some serious potential, waiting to be let out. But she hasn't got the same bodily strength and speed as her fellow soldiers.

She has to put in extra time and effort, which pays off in buckets.

There's something of Joan of Arc to be seen in Mulan. I remember watching a video about the French National Saint, and it was speculated that she probably didn't do much of the hand to hand fighting, but there's good reason to believe that she had very good leadership skills.

She lead her men in battle and they were inspired to follow her.

And we see that with Mulan, she's a soldier, not an officer, but once her comrades realise that the woman Mulan is still the same person as the man Ping, they listen to her, and realise that her ideas have the makings of success.

She doesn't lose any of this by having her love story with Shang. In fact they have a fascinating journey together, as Shang learns to love the woman that he grew to like and respect when she was pretending to be a man. He learns why she did it, and he respects that family loyalty. He realises that it's all the same person in the end.

And he's proud to be able to say that his wife saved China!

Contrast to live action Mulan. What can we say about her? She's got super powers so of course she can already whoop every ass in her way.

No coconut for guessing which is the more satisfying character to watch. 🙄

With animated Snow White we get the strength of her pure heart. All she wishes for is to be loved and spoken to kindly.

The animals aren't afraid of her, because they know there's no cruelty in her.

The dwarves are happy to give her a home because she's willing to give back to them by keeping house.

My theory about The Prince is that there had to be something extra special about this girl for him to keep looking for her.

In his world beautiful girls who can sing will be plentiful.

If Snow White was just a pretty servant that he wanted to have fun with, why go all out to find her again?

Cinderella (both animated and live action) shows the power of never giving into bitterness. She keeps believing in the power of dreams and she loves, despite the only kindness that she gets is from her animal friends.

Animated Belle loves her father and when the condition of her father's freedom is for her to remain with The Beast, she does it, even though it breaks her heart. Loyalty and Honour.

And she's determined to make the best of the situation. She gets to know the castle. She takes the time to get to know The Beast, and as she's showing interest in him, it makes him want to know and care about her.

The more "empowered" Disney tries to write their heroines as, the less interesting and charismatic they become, ironically.

[cameronsbabydoll]

What do you think would finally make Rafe really change and see that him being a control freak is actually what is making reader grow distant and more robotic? Like do you think he thinks it's actually backfiring on him? His son not wanting to be close to him because he's resentful, his daughter not feeling excited when he's around because he never is. Do you think that'll happen? thoughts?

Rafe never really thought it would get this bad.

He thought he had done everything right.

He had given you everything—kept you safe, kept you provided for, kept you his.

But now, sitting on the private jet, watching you nurse the baby with that same faraway look in your eyes, watching your eldest son sit stiffly across from him, watching your daughter play absently with her nails, barely acknowledging his presence—

He wonders if he made a mistake.

He wonders if maybe, just maybe, the reason you all feel so far away is because of him.

This trip was supposed to fix things.

Rafe had pulled all the stops—had cleared his schedule, booked the best resorts, made sure you had the nicest suite, the best clothes, the best of everything.

Because money fixes things.

Because he fixes things.

Or at least, he used to.

He tries to connect.

Tries to act like this is normal.

Turns to his daughter, says lightly, "You should go to the spa with your mom. Get whatever you want—massages, facials, shopping, all of it. Take my card, buy whatever you want."

She just nods, murmurs a soft, "Okay, Daddy," but there’s no real excitement in her voice.

Like she’s used to this—used to him trying to win her love with things instead of time.

His jaw clenches.

He turns to his son instead.

"Seeing any girls yet?" He smirks, tries to tease, tries to connect the way his father never did. "You need any advice?"

His son barely looks at him. Shrugs. "I’m good."

That stings.

Because his son used to worship him.

Used to look at him like he hung the moon, used to cling to him, beg for his attention.

And now—now, he looks at Rafe like he’s just some guy.

Like he’s someone to tolerate, not someone to admire.

Like he’s just the man who shows up sometimes.

And you.

You’re just sitting there, adjusting the baby in your arms, quiet.

Too quiet.

You’ve barely spoken since the trip started.

Just nodding, smiling, playing your role.

But he sees the way your hands tremble just slightly when you reach for your water. The way your shoulders tense when he speaks. The way you look at him like you’re waiting for him to snap, waiting for him to ruin whatever peace you’ve managed to salvage for yourself.

And fuck—

Rafe swallows.

For the first time, he wonders if this is his fault.

If he’s the reason you’ve stopped being excited about anything.

If he’s the reason his daughter doesn’t light up when he walks in a room, why his son barely looks at him, why you don’t smile at him like you used to.

Like he’s just the man you’re stuck with.

And Rafe—

Rafe hates that.

Because you’re supposed to be his.

And if he’s losing that—

Then what the fuck does he have left?

[gourmand-cookie]

could i get a platonic shadow milk cookie with kid y/n? just like including one of his stage plays, dressing reader up n such, id think that would be a little cute

cant wait to see where youd take this 🐊

Funny friends that make you laugh

title taken from Glass Animals - Youth! hoo boy, im tuckered out so if there's any typos that's why, also, Y/N's fit is a mix of the MyCookie Sweet Lies and Deceptive Whispers set :3

You were Shadow Milk Cookie's little white lie.

Dressed in milky pale robes and boots, the only splash of blue being that of your hat and broach that was a smaller replica of the older cookie's soul jam, armed with a lance that was just the same size as you.

Cute as a button, you fit the part well.

Tags: Child!Reader, Shadow Milk Cookie & Reader, Fluff, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Accidental Kid Acquisition, Platonic Relationships, Canon Divergent, Silly, Hurt/Comfort, Taking Creative Liberties, Mentioned Black Sapphire Cookie, Mentioned Candy Apple Cookie, Complicated Relationships, Shadow Milk Cookie and his innocently evil godchild friend

Your origins were never really known. One day, you just popped up in the Spire of Deceit and you had been there ever since.

In all technicalities, you were Shadow Milk's first minion, if you could even count as one.

He didn't know what to do with you back then, fresh off of corruption, high off of tapping into the darkened magic of the moon.

Oh but you were a lovely audience member who oo'ed and ahh'ed at everything he'd done, clapping happily at the sight of cookies dancing to his tune, so he let you stay.

You were Shadow Milk Cookie's little white lie.

Dressed in milky pale robes and boots, the only splash of blue being that of your hat and broach that was a smaller replica of the older cookie's soul jam, armed with a lance that was just the same size as you.

Cute as a button, you fit the part well.

So his disappearance left you wondering what role you had to play.

You didn't grow like Black Sapphire, nor were you prone to chaos like Candy Apple, the other two disciples that were left with you, running out the spire to do whatever task their master had left them to do.

At least you had the other residents to keep you company, the painters loved your paintings, the weavers wrapped you up in soft unseen sheets and the show never ended, not knowing the reason why.

Unbeknownst to you, it was a given. You were their ringleader after all.

Almost immortal, not that any would dare to see if it was a lie or not, they lived in the belly of the beast that shifts and purrs at the whims of the young cookie.

Even Candy Apple Cookie would blanch at the thought of raining her hammer down on you, why would she? You were one of the only ones who enjoyed her efforts.

Least of all, Black Sapphire Cookie, don't you know? His microphone was a gift to his master, attuned to his being and it's eyes were always watching you with a protective gaze.

You were more than what you thought you were.

It became more apparent when you woke up one night to twist the Spire here and there, you rarely change the labyrinth yourself and the residents noticed the new behavior, rumors abound already.

"Do my eyes deceive me, folks?" Black Sapphire Cookie announced to us, smile lax as always but his eyes shined with anticipation, "It looks to me as if we're preparing for guests."

"We are." You stated simply, focused on your task in raising the highest tower you could coax out of this place.

"Is Master Shadow Milk Cookie coming home?!" Candy Apple sprung up to your side, voice crackling just as she fell into excited squeals when this time, you nodded eagerly.

(And when the Beast settled into the Spire, he was welcomed first and foremost by a spectacle lead by you.

He couldn't be more proud.)

A hand ruffled into your icing messily, the familiar laughter was no longer a hollow echo through the halls but a tangible thing that rung in your ears.

"Look at you! Dough still as soft as ever, little one. Did you miss little ol me~?" The teasing made you pout but you would rather have it than nothing at all.

"Your shows are better. Are we gonna do a play?" Shadow Milk laughed, delightfully mischievous as he floated circles around you, tapping your nose.

"But of course! We've got new actors coming along. I'm calling this The Liar, The Thief and The Tower! Marvelous tower by the way, you've set the stage nicely, my deceitling! That's going to be center stage."

You beamed as the blue cookie picked you up into a twirl, giggling with the cackling master, the Spire shaking with his laughter.

(And when the Thief fell from the very tower you made, you cheered and clapped at the sight of a new friend to play with.)

Yes, Black Sapphire breaking the fourth wall is real and fun, I love him.

Also the thought of Reader being the one who made the tower Pure Vanilla fell from was too funny for me, I had to add it in.

[traflawgar]

Hello!! Could I please request zoro head cannons. This is a fluff prompt. Basically after the straw hats liberate yet another country and have their celebration on the sunny, zoro snatches the reader and throws them over one shoulder while he has a barrel of booze on the other. Someone asks him “aren’t you going to eat” and he says something like “I got what I need” before going to the crows nest with his partner. I wonder how zoro would show his affection when liquored up and away from nosy eyes (sanji probably sets some food aside because it would be a cold day in hell before his crewmates go hungry)

alone with you

zoro x reader. FLUFF.

TAGS: alcohol, of course. zoro likes to pretend he's a tough bitch but he loves cuddles and kisses.

NOTES--I love zoro. I see him as the kind of dude to pretend he's super stoic in front of others, but once he's alone with his partner will be quite cuddly. for this request I went more on the properly headcanons direction, hope you like the result!

Zoro has been staring at you since everyone reunited at the ship. Sitting across from you, taking gulp after gulp of his sake, he’s not letting you ignore him. No matter how hard you try. You can’t even meet his gaze, afraid that the simmering fire in his eyes will reflect your own need to be alone with him.

And then everyone would find out that there’s something more going on between the two of you.

He does not have the same concern. That much becomes evident when he abruptly stands up and strides toward you. He ignores the crew’s complaints as he moves anything and anyone out of his way. Complaints that fall silent as confused and shocked eyes—and one pair of knowing ones—watch him carelessly pick you up and throw him over his shoulders.

Stunned silence hangs in the air, before wolf whistles and laughter break it unceremoniously. Your friends are not deterred by the groan you let out, nor by the murderous glare you throw their way. 

“Wait, dinner’s almost ready!” Sanji yells as he steps onto the deck, lured out of the kitchen by the chaos unfolding.

“Don’t care. Got everything I need here.” As if to emphasize his words, Zoro shifts the weight of the barrel he’s holding in one arm, and pats your ass with his free hand.

You think you hear Sanji complain and threaten to let you starve later, but that’s quickly pushed out of your mind as Zoro begins climbing up towards the crow’s nest. He’s completely oblivious to how dangerous it is, while all you can think about is the very precarious position you’re in.

A few torturous moments later, he sets you down on the floor and you finally open your eyes. “Finally we’re a–” he starts, but is quickly interrupted by your fists on his chest as you accuse him of nearly killing you.

Usually, Zoro would let you carry on with your antics and tease you once you get bored of them. Tonight, however, he’s feeling quite impatient. He’s been waiting for ages (a few minutes) to be alone with you while everyone else hogged your attention (spent time with you in a group setting). He was hoping to sneak away after dinner when everybody was too full of food and alcohol to notice—and he usually would’ve done just that. You know that, know tonight feels different for some reason, so you don’t really complain when he shuts you up with a kiss, hands holding your wrists to stop you.

You let him pull you to his favourite spot in the crow’s nest, follow suit as he plops down on the floor. He’s a lot more affectionate when he’s drunk, not holding himself back from what he actually wants.

His head is immediately on your shoulder, and whenever he’s not filling his cup with the barrel he brought, he’s nuzzling against you and muttering how warm you are. Every other minute he’ll look up at you with puppy eyes and –ask for– demand a kiss.

“I want a kiss,” he’ll mutter with a pout (which he later denies was a pout), and you think it’s the cutest thing to ever happen to you.

Eventually he gets you to sit between his legs, your back pressed snuggly against his chest. He wraps his arms around your body and pulls you impossibly closer. He all but wraps himself entirely around you, pressing lazy kisses on your back. His fingers trace shapes on your thighs, random things at first, but then you think he might be spelling something—he’s spelling “I love you” because no amount of booze can get him to say it out loud yet. So, for now, he’ll settle for spelling it on your skin and trusting you understand it.

You’ll stay like that until your stomach growls embarrassingly loud.

“Let’s see if the shitty cook made good on his threat.”

He did not, to nobody’s surprise. Regardless of how many times he threatens to do so, Sanji never lets you go hungry.

When the two of you get to the kitchen, there’s food waiting for you. You take the plates and sit on the deck, traces of the crew’s celebration all over the floor. You sit and look at the stars, and Zoro surprises you with an incredible amount of knowledge on stars and constellations.

(He read books about it just so he could tell you all these interesting facts about the night sky because he likes seeing the impressed look in your eyes whenever he does something cool.)

After eating, he’ll suggest going back to the crow’s nest just so you can keep cuddling and maybe, if all goes according to his plan, you’ll fall asleep like that—holding each other close, with your head on his chest and your legs intertwined.

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

I remember when this aired. And now I'm just thinking Sanctuary walked so... *checks notes* cw supergirl could gaslight and gatekeep us??

I love Sanctuary for a plethora of reasons, but primarily for doing the thing I long for shows and movies to do-- tell the stories that need to be told. They may not have done everything right, or well, but the effoet was made, and they deserve so much credit for that.

SANCTUARY (2008–2011)

[vettelsvee]

LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO + MAX VERSTAPPEN PLS

LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO | Max Verstappen

⋆ PAIRING: Max Verstappen x Ex girlfriend actress Female!Reader ⋆ SUMMARY: After breaking up with Max, your boyfriend of three years, you decide to move forward and show people that you weren't the villain of your story ↳ REQUESTED: Yes! Thanks for requesting and hope you like it anon 💖 Part of REPUTATION in MY TORTURED DRIVERS DEPARTMENT ⋆ WARNINGS: Curse words ⋆ WORD COUNT: 2574 ⋆ VEE'S NOTES: Does university have me mentally draining? Yes. Did my doctor tell me to take a break since I'm on lots of medication and I didn't listen? Also yes ✨ Anyways, hope you like this one, and remember that I'd love to read your comments and feedback, and that reblogs are very much appreciated as well! Thank you so much, and enjoy your reading! <3 ↳ TALK TO ME! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST | CITY OF STARS F1 AU

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

The worst part of the breakup wasn’t losing Max.

It was losing yourself.

Despite being a world-renowned actress with a thriving career long before you started dating the Dutchman, the last three years of your life had revolved around him. 

You weren’t just one of the most admired couples in the paddock, you were also Hollywood’s golden pair. The actress and the Formula 1 world champion, unstoppable together. Rumors of weddings and pregnancies swirled around your seemingly perfect (at least in the public eye) love story.

So when everything ended abruptly, without explanation from either of you to everyone, the world needed a villain.

The headlines spoke for themselves:

"Y/N Y/L/N DUMPS MAX VERSTAPPEN AFTER USING HIM FOR FAME" "DID Y/L/N EVER LOVE VERSTAPPEN?" "FORMULA 1’S GOLDEN BOY, BETRAYED"

The comments from people who once admired you were even worse. If the insults were harsh, the death threats were unbearable. Demands flooded in for you to issue a public apology for a “crime” you hadn’t committed, for nothing more than just a breakup that Max himself had initiated to focus on his career, as he told you and excused himself with. Every interview you gave was twisted, your words manipulated. And instead of staying silent, like your words, the press loudly proclaimed that you were the reason Verstappen's performance had declined last season.

Max knew about it all. After all, he’d been asked about it countless times during press conferences. Reporters bombarded him with headlines starring you both, turning your private lives into international gossip. Yet, all he did was smile politely and dismiss the questions as if they were mere inconveniences.

You had expected at least a call from him to find some way to put an end to it all. But when he never reached out, you decided to call him yourself. All you got was a voicemail telling you to try again later. And when you did, again and again, he ended up blocking your number, showing you how things actually were between you both.

You never got an answer. You never found out why he decided to ignore how the world was painting the woman he had supposedly loved.

That’s when you decided to stop waiting for an answer, a real and proper explanation. 

If they wanted a villain, you’d give them one.

You didn’t just delete your social media and vanish from the public eye, you also returned to the industry in full force, accepting a lead role in a film after years of turning projects down just to support Max race after race. A psychological thriller that intrigued you from the moment you read the script, because the character felt too familiar and close. A woman scorned, reborn from the ashes of her own destruction.

“She gave them everything, and now she’ll take it all back.”

That one line was enough to fuel your performance, turning it into a masterclass in acting. Your director praised you endlessly, your co-stars were in awe, and even the producers—one of whom had once been a key sponsor of Max—were captivated. You convinced them to join the project though you weren’t really sure if they ended up doing so out of pity or as a subtle jab at the driver who had severed ties with them at the peak of his career. 

Either way, the message was clear: a middle finger to the boy in a narrative where you were only ever relevant because of him.

Then came your real return to the public eye. Your rebirth.

The docile girl who once stayed quiet, who barely spoke to the press, who even put her acting career on hold. The girl who lived in Max Verstappen’s shadow, was gone.

Your first public appearance, where you began promoting the film that would mark your resurgence, was at the Cannes Film Festival. You walked the red carpet with a confidence you hadn't felt in years, perhaps ever. The camera flashes were relentless, but you smiled because you knew exactly what they had expected to see: a broken, shattered woman.

Instead, your thirst for revenge made sure you left an impression, one so striking that it became the talk of the town for days.

“Y/N Y/L/N: UNBOTHERED QUEEN OR A POISONOUS SNAKE?”

You couldn't help but smirk when you read the article. In fact, you couldn’t resist making it your first Instagram post in that new era.

“Let them talk,” you thought. Because in a few weeks, everything would become even more interesting.

You had known you’d see Max again the moment you received an invitation to a TAG Heuer event as part of your film’s promotion. Your agent had tried to find a way to decline, suggesting excuses convincing enough to avoid the inevitable encounter.

Your answer?

You told her to find the best designer in the industry to create a dress dripping in subtle, unmistakable messages. A dress that would make it clear just how much you had moved on.

And so, in the heart of Monaco, in a lavish mansion hosting the exclusive party, you finally saw him again.

To no one’s surprise, he was wearing the same suit he always chose for events like this. His hair was styled, though slightly tousled because you knew he hated looking too put-together. A champagne flute rested in his hand as he moved through the room, making conversation with the other guests, effortless as ever.

Then, just as he finished speaking with his team principal, Christian Horner, and his wife, he turned.

And his eyes met yours.

415 days.

That’s how long it had been since the last time he looked at you.

You couldn’t lie, it hit you like a punch to the gut. A searing, burning weight in your chest, making it hard to breathe. Especially when he began walking toward you slowly, deliberately.

And when you saw the flicker of emotion in his gaze, when you felt the sting of tears threatening your own eyes, you reminded yourself why you were there.

You thought of every headline they had written about you. The way the media had twisted your story, painted you as something you weren’t. The way your reputation had plummeted overnight, forcing you to rebuild yourself into someone new, someone unbreakable.

Most of all, you thought about the moment Max chose to cut you out of his life completely when all you ever wanted was just an explanation for the breakup.

Just for him to care enough to silence the world that had made your life a living hell.

That was the moment you realized you were ready to see Max again.

He, however, wasn’t ready to see you.

“Y/N. Long time no see.”

He stood in front of you, avoiding your gaze. His voice was rough, uncertain.

“Max,” you murmured, taking a sip of your champagne, ignoring the way his eyes lingered on your lips. “It’s been a while.”

He didn’t answer, and you didn’t bother to say anything else. Instead, you turned toward the balcony just a few steps away, where the view stretched across most of the principality. The city lights shimmered before you, captivating you, reminding you that this place had once been your safe haven, your refuge… The setting of dreams that never became reality, of a life you once envisioned but that crumbled before it could ever be built.

You tensed at the sound of footsteps behind you, but you didn’t turn around.

You knew it was Max. And you also knew you should have left. Should have walked away, let him drown in his guilt, let the weight of regret eat away at him.

But instead, you drank the last sip of champagne, carelessly let the empty glass slip from your fingers, watching as it shattered into tiny shards against the floor, then turned to face him.

“Are you just going to stand there looking at me like I’m the best thing you’ve ever seen in your fucking life, or are you going to say something that makes sense for once?”

He inhaled sharply. You knew you had hit where it hurt the most: his pride.

“Is this what you wanted?” His voice was low, but his frustration was unmistakable. “To play the vengeful ex? To prove something? To prove something to yourself?”

You let his words settle, rolling them over in your mind, searching for a reply that would cut just as deep.

“Prove something? To someone? To myself?” You tilted your head back and let out a hollow laugh. “That’s funny, Max, because I don’t think I’ve ever needed to prove anything to anyone, including you. Tell me, have I ever needed to prove anything to you?”

Yes, that you loved him with everything you had. And where had that gotten you?

“You’ve turned this into a game, into some kind of performance,” he said coldly, his blue eyes cutting into you like daggers.

“If you want to say so…” you smirked, voice laced with mockery, "Honestly, I wouldn't mind being the actress starring in your bad dreams but, between you and I… I think I already am."

A bitter laugh escaped your lips. Max, however, wasn’t laughing. His irritation was growing, his anger simmering beneath the surface, and for the first time, you felt a flicker of unease at the way he was looking at you, clouded with something dark, something dangerous.

“A game? Seriously, Max?” You spoke again, stepping closer, fingers playing with the fabric of his tie. “Tell me, who was the one who started this game? Was it me, when I heard you say you wanted to focus on your career instead of a relationship? Was it your fans, when they decided I was the villain in our story? Was it when they painted me as the ruthless bitch who left you the moment I got the fame I wanted? Or was it when you stayed silent, letting them believe it, knowing damn well it was all a lie?”

Max flinched. He knew you were right, but his pride, his damn pride, kept him from admitting it.

“I never—”

“Oh, cut the bullshit,” you cut him off, turning away before spinning back to face him. “You never defended me. You let them say whatever the hell they wanted. You let them tear me apart while you laughed at their comments, dodged their questions… feeding into the rumors you knew weren’t true.”

“It wasn’t that simple—”

“No, Max, it really was that simple,” you shot back, raising your voice. “It was as simple as telling the truth. Or saying something, anything, really. Even a lie would’ve been better than leaving me to burn the way you did. You let them think I used you, that I never loved you, that I walked away without a second thought.”

“You did walk away, don’t act like you didn’t—”

You froze. You had heard that accusation before, over and over. But the way he said it now, the coldness in his tone, it was what finally made you snap.

“What the hell was I supposed to do, Max? Follow you around like some desperate puppy after you told me you wanted to focus on your career?” you shouted, not caring who might hear. “Stay with you while every headline called me a gold-digging whore? Let strangers tell me and truly believe that, if I had a career, it was only because of you?”

Your breath was coming faster now, your chest tightening with an anxiety you hadn’t felt in a long time, and you didn’t miss.

“Do you even know what it’s like, Max? To have your entire existence reduced to being someone’s girlfriend and the main character of a series of meaningless scandals?”

Max said nothing.

“You never had to explain yourself, Max. Never. If you won races, they praised you. If you lost, they still worshiped you. If you got into fights or disappeared for weeks, you were still Red Bull’s golden boy, still the one everyone adored. But me?” You shook your head, laughing bitterly. “I had to justify my own success… the success I had built long before you and I were ever a thing.”

“I never wanted that for you—”

“And yet, you let it happen.” Your voice softened, a hint of something almost like pity creeping in. “You let them destroy me just to keep yourself clean. I don’t know if it was your idea, your dad’s, or your PR team’s, and honestly, I don’t even care anymore. I don’t wish the same on you, Max, I really don’t… but I do wish you’d had to live through it, even just for a second, so you’d understand.”

“I…”

Max dragged a hand through his hair, restless. His eyes darted around, unable to meet yours, his whole body tense with unspoken words. And despite everything, despite all the pain, you knew one thing for certain: at the end of your reputation, you were truly feeling alive.

“I didn’t know what to do,” he finally admitted. “I didn’t know how to fix it. How to make it stop—”

“That’s the thing, Max,” you murmured, tilting your head. “You never had to fix anything. You just had to stand by me.”

The weight of those words settled between you both, heavy and inescapable.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. You simply stood there, staring at each other, reliving every second, every memory, every moment you once thought would last forever.

Max thought about how much he wanted to go back to those moments. You simply smiled to yourself, knowing you had walked away from the person who had broken every single promise to protect you.

“Did you ever love me?”

The question caught you completely off guard. A lump formed in your throat.

For a moment, you allowed yourself to remember everything…

The way you looked at him, and he at you, as if nothing else in the world existed. 

The way he held you in his arms every night before bed, only to do it again as you both drifted off to sleep.

The way you cupped his face in your hands and kissed him, in front of everyone, after he won a race, a championship, feeling as if the world around you had vanished.

A year ago, even a few months ago, that question would have been easy to answer. But now?

You remembered how lonely you felt when the world turned against you. How Max seemed to disappear from the face of the earth, only to reappear on TV, in Formula 1, no longer as your ex-boyfriend but as a public figure you had once idolized enough to believe you belonged by his side.

“I don’t think that matters anymore.”

You didn’t say anything else. Wrapping your arms around yourself, seeking comfort, reassurance, trying to convince yourself you were doing the right thing.

"Goodbye, Max."

For the first time, as you walked away from Max Verstappen, you didn’t look back.

He felt lost. For the first time, he truly understood that he had lost the love of his life and regretted not doing anything to stop it.

But you? You simply smiled and kept walking, head held high, feeling better than ever because this time, for the first time ever, you had won.

And also, for the first time ever, you weren’t going to apologize for winning.

If you like my content, and would like to support me, you can do it here <3 Thank you so much for reading until the very end! <3

[no1blacksapphirefan]

I like this account so I had a request its an aware crk au x player

Player realizing their phone isn't big enought so they decided to connect it to the tv so they can see more of player in the day

Real, gotta see our cookies on a bigger screen. Hopefully I understand the request correctly so here’s you go 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

(No specified characters so did the ones that came to mind)

Shadow Milk loves this. Assuming the fact the cookies are aware of the transfer, he loves the bigger screen. Now technically everything in the kingdom is the same size but now he has essentially a better view of you. He gets to see you sit down on that couch and play around with the other cookies.

Get’s to see you leave and get some food as you watch on another device while eating…your attention should be on him but he’ll let you off the hook, at least now you can technically multi task.

If reader is aware that the cookies can see them then Shadow Milk may demand more attention. Tapping on the screen as you try and watch YouTube on your phone. Or you may just turn around and see his face nearly covering the entire TV as he watches you.

Black Sapphire also enjoys this a lot. He chuckles as your face lights up as the TV shows your kingdom. Now able to see your lil cookies finally on a better quality screen. Able to see you giggle as you pick up and drop different cookies at different places.

Leave the TV on longer will you? He likes to see your reactions to certain stories you hear on that one clock app…yknowww, he’s happy enough to tell you various stories to keep you entertained, just keep your eyes on him.

If you’re aware of this he’ll make it more obvious that he wants to be the one to let you in on the latest gossip. How will he do this without the use of a phone? He’ll figure it out, just sit back and relax. He’ll make sure those stories he tells are the most entertaining, just for you

Clotted Cream Cookie finds your reasoning almost amusing, what do you mean you wished to see them on a larger scale? He finds it cute when he sees you genuinely happy when you figure out how to do it and it succeeds. Can’t help but give a small round of applause and a knowing smile in secret.

If you just leave the TV on while you do other things, he likes to silently observe your mini routine and finds it entertaining when or if you ever fall asleep, whether that be playing the game, doing work ect ect.

Oh he wishes he can escape and help you back to your own bed, he’s more than happy to you know. After all you’ve done, helping fellow cookies become stronger and helping alongside ginger brave and his friends. You deserve rest too.

If you’re aware you may hear him gently talk to you through the screen, perhaps a small reminder of where you put your keys. He saw you put them on the coffee table!!

Black Forest loves this, she’s already looks up to you and sees you as a being like if not higher then the witches. To then hear that you wanted to see all of them on a larger scale and put them on a device where they’ll be able to in turn see you better.

She’s so happy, she loves seeing your outfits every day more clearly as opposed to having to guess what else you wore as all she could likely see was maybe the shoulders up. Or waist up.

If you’re aware, she uses the opportunity of the TV being on and running to compliment you for your outfit or skills. She absolutely adores you. Maybe she’ll ask you if she can see you in wedding attire.

Pure Vanilla definitely tries to calm other cookies down if you’re aware of them. Pulling Shadow Milk away so he doesn’t cause a ruckus as you try and eat. Gently advising Black Forest to give some space.

You may essentially be their “God” but you deserve respect and care. He’ll ensure other cookies behave and don’t bother you all too much. He finds it flattering you wish to see them better, he had assumed the phone (or tablet) you’ve been using was enough for you, you could take them anywhere after all.

But you want to see them bigger? He can’t help but blush a bit. How’d they get so lucky with such a kind hearted “God”

((I hope this was okay anon 👉👈))

-#1 Black Sapphire Fan Out ‼️‼️

[charseraph]

I have exploding disease. Yeah it means I explode. It does go everywhere. It’s fine when I’m alone, I know where to go to minimize the cleanup. Sometimes I don’t put everything back together right away. I don’t invite others over for that reason. Yeah it’s why I don’t leave much. I don’t even really miss being out. I hardly did before and now I guess it was good luck that I didn’t. I think exploding showed me the ease of being pretty minimalist. But I’d still love to come over. Yeah of course. Just, are you okay if I explode? I can do my best to put everything back together but I would be leaving right after. Yeah it’s happened before. It’s uncontrollable. Which bums me out, but I’ll let you know if I sense something. I definitely don’t hide how I’m feeling haha. I think relaying how you’re doing prevents a lot of those TV show examples of people not sharing important information until they’re doing bad. But well. I guess that can be annoying. I don’t know, you just let me know. I’m excited to come over. Hey, are you okay with hugging me still?

[mistercrowbar]

What advice would you give to someone who wants to start draw comics?

Read comics. Try to absorb the layouts and lettering - there’s so many ways to tackle it! Also even in published comics you’ll see that the art is messy and scrungly and you can take that as permission to be messy and scrungly too.

Comics are about efficiency and Good Enough. If you try to make each panel a masterpiece you’ll be there forever. Reasons why I mostly do simple pencil comics.

Start small. Do a scene or gag comic at a time. Get a feel for the medium and all the steps you have. If there’s a step you hate, find a way to emphasize the steps you love. EG I hate laying down flat colours but love shading, so I make my page form comics painterly greyscale with a gradient map to spruce them up.

Thumbnail!!!!! Figure out your page or panel layout before you start pencils. It can just be chicken scratch and sticken figures but it will help make sure there’s a clean line of action carrying the viewer from panel to panel and that your lettering fits.

don’t skimp on lettering. you can have beautiful artwork but if your dialogue is time new roman on half transparent ellipses or somehow unreadable it’s gonna drag everything else down. Blambot is a great source for free and affordable comic fonts and even has guides from an industry pro.

There are a huge bajillion elements to making comics but once you’ve made like, literally 100 pages you’ll start just intrinsically knowing things like the 180 rule, how to place a speech bubble when the first speaker is on the right, and that you can draw one nice background and then have gradient colour blocks carry you through most of the page/scene. And then you’ll still keep learning. Always learning!

LOTS of example stuff under the cut, mostly for lettering and layouts:

thumbnails vs finished page. The detail is just enough to remind me who goes where. You can see I mostly played with the last part of the scene, going from three panels in one row to making each panel an entire row across three rows. Panels on the same row have less “time” between them as the eyes skips from one to the other faster, whereas there’s a little more gap skipping back to a new row (think resetting a line on a typewriter). Here, the first thumbnail may have fit the artwork more neatly, but I wanted to give Astarion more time to deliberate his decision.

You can also see that I changed the top panel from a close up on Aldiirn to a wider shot showing both. This sets the scene, and the rest of it uses simple/abstract backgrounds until the final panel, which makes a nice bookend while making the overall load easier. One good environment panel will carry you for a while, but don't leave your characters in the void for too long.

Make a script before you start layouts but don’t be shocked if you need to cut things out to have them fit a page. Less is more, generally. This also goes for visual elements - what's most important to the scene? What's just extraneous detail you find fun but is creating clutter?

For the 4-panel comics I don’t put time into thumbnails unless it’s a difficult panel, but I always put the lettering and speech bubbles down first so they have enough room and nothing important gets covered. If you do this much you’re a step ahead imo.

This one I’m working on now and there’s a lot going on with four characters speaking to each other! It’s important to keep a clear line going for the dialogue. Astarion’s first line has the top left corner and clearly starts the conversation. The tail of the bubble carries over to where he whispers to Aldiirn, and we pick up Aldiirn’s lines. The rock wall on the right then draws the eye down to Shadowheart and Gale’s bubble at the bottom. I don’t think the tails on the bottom bubbles are 100% ideal, but it’s Good Enough.

There’s also slightly different points in time going on in this panel, because the art is static but it’s a long convo going on. Gale’s signature finger isn’t in response to Astarion whispering, but to his answer to Aldiirn that comes after. Think of how time works in your panels, especially when you got a big one because size = time.

You can use all sorts of things to direct the eye across a comic page, but I find the strongest things are the bubbles & tails and where characters are looking. Here, Gale’s “stop by” line breaks the panel line to help draw the viewer to him in the last panel, since otherwise the eye was likely to end up at Aldiirn.

I generally like bubbles to be tucked into their panels, either fully inside or up at the edges like “my condolences.” It looks neater than when bubbles are willy nilly over the edges which I see as a sign of poor planning. And! it means when you do break panel lines it can be more meaningful.

the 180 rule is a film/stage thing for composition to avoid confusing the audience, but the simplest way to put it is: if a character is on the left side of the scene, they should stay there until the action or whatever moves them. You can see here that Aldiirn is always on the right facing left, even when the camera is a bit behind him or a bit behind Gale. the 180 line is the front of Aldiirn’s tent, and the camera never crosses it in a way that would put Gale on the right.

I find it distracting when a conversation is happening in comic and a character breaks the 180 for no particular reason, though are times I’ve done it because a panel worked much better that way. The book Framed Ink has some great guides on composition and how to change the 180 line.

You can also see in the above comic that it’s arranged so that Gale’s always the first speaker in the panels he appears so there’s no criss cross bubble tails. Buuuut what if the first speaker is unavoidably on the right?

Stack the speech bubbles. You want the first speech bubble CLEARLY and undeniably the closest to the top left corner and then other speakers can go below.

the middle example above also has some examples of playing with the speech bubbles. Wyll’s “square-y round-y” bubble is the standard, the boxy ellipse. The tail has a slight, lanquid curve. He;s comfortable teasing the poor vampire. Aldiirn’s bubble is pointy! the tail straight! with urgency! And Astarion’s bubble and tail are burbling and grumbling through gritted teeth and pain. Varsh Ko’kuu, even though he’s speaking with a standard shaped bubble, has a sharp point in the tail that speaks to his assertiveness in protecting the egg. And Shadowheart has some hesitation with that wiggly tail.

Either hand drawing or using vector shapes for bubbles is fine, but I recommend staying away from true ellipses because they look static. Square-y round-y is where it’s at. Just make sure there’s enough space between text and edge of the bubble, usually enough to fit a capital H or W, but you can play with that spacing too.

The second panel here breaks the “first bubble goes top-left corner” rule, so it’s ambiguous if Gale or Aldiirn speaks first. However! In this case everyone is giving their responses in a jumble to Rath, so order matters less. I’m pretty sure every rule I’ve mentioned has a time and place to break it, but it’s still important to learn the basics first.

Key thing about comics typefaces: the capital I will have bars and the lower case will not. The barred I is used for I, as in, “I am not inclined to share” where the unbarred is used everywhere else.

When choosing a font, I recommend grabbing one that has Regular, Italic, and Bold/Bold Italic typefaces. I use Milk Moustache for my 4-panel comics because it’s very casual and similar weight to my own handwriting, but it doesn’t have an italic typeface and that drives me nuts sometimes. For the most flexibility, choose a font that has lower case AND uppercase type faces. I stick to upper case 90% of the time but lower case adds more options, like Aldiirn’s “really?” being so small due to his stressed state.

There are some official guides on what should be bold or italic in dialogues but they don’t matter as much unless you’re working for a big publisher with a style standard. Italics for thinking and whispering are common. I go with my gut, like Astarion’s speech is so dramatic I use italics and bold liberally, whereas for most others I may or may not just choose a key word to bold.

I think some programs will let you make text to fit a bubble instead of a square box, but tbh I just spend a lot of time manually making the text fit nicely in that bubble shape.

[22ayla21]

Hi! I love your stories so much, so homey, warm and sweet! But just when I think, I don't see a family story for Riddle from twst? I mean.. I really love him and I think he would be a great dad. Please write to him later!!

The Harmony of Parenting

He was raised strictly, but when he became a parent himself, he found a balance between strictness and care.

Riddle always believed that the ideal father was a strict mentor, setting clear rules and making no allowances. He himself grew up in an atmosphere of rigid discipline and believed that it was the only right path. However, over the years, especially after he became a pediatrician, his views began to change.

Working with children became a real challenge for Riddle. He was used to order, but young patients required a completely different approach. Frightened and confused, they did not always listen and understand why this or that treatment was necessary. Then Riddle realized that without warmth, patience, and gentleness in communication, he could not manage.

It was not easy. Riddle, who was used to controlling everything around him, had to learn to respond sensitively to every word and gesture. Pediatrics taught him to listen, not just to instruct. He understood that young patients needed not only diagnosis and treatment, but also comfort and a sense of security.

Soon, Riddle began to apply these lessons in his communication with his own children. He remained strict, but tried not to forget that they needed more than just rules. They needed time for conversations, for understanding the reasons for their behavior. He became softer, learned to find compromises, and show love not only through prohibitions, but also through care and attention.

His son and daughter felt that their father was not only strict, but also fair, and most importantly, caring. It was safe and calm with him. He was there in any situation, even if the children misbehaved. They respected him for this, and their affection for him only grew.

However, Riddle's mother still viewed this with skepticism. She believed that softness in parenting was a weakness. And although she did not understand how he could be so gentle with his own children, she eventually learned to keep her opinions to herself. Riddle did not want to argue. He understood that their worlds were different. And yet, when she came to visit, she saw how much love and respect the children had for their father, which perhaps made her think.

One day, at the dining table, she said restrainedly:

"You have certainly become softer... But, apparently, there is something to it. Your children love and respect you. That's the main thing."

Riddle silently nodded. He did not argue, but deep down he knew that he had found his harmony—a balance between strictness and care, which helped him be a good father and allowed his children to feel loved and protected.

[222col]

hello lovely <3 if it interests you, how about maneater! x rafe 🤭 if you wanted to put a spin on it she could have gotten with people he knows in the past (like jj or topper) but it just makes him want her more! whatever your heart desires! love all your content!

maneater!reader x rafe cameron

summary: rafe can't stand to hear how all the other boys have had you anymore, he needs a taste for himself

cw .ᐟ hints at nsfw

꒰ notes ꒱ ty bby!!! <333 would be open to a part two of this if ppl wanted <3

it wasn't a secret how badly rafe wanted you, half of figure eight had seen the way he lusted after you. every rager his eyes were glued on you, borderline stalking you around the country club on the rare occasion you showed up there. he'd never had to work so hard to get a girl in his life, probably half the reason he wanted you so fucking bad.

what didn't help? how many fucking stories he'd had to hear about you. look, rafe knew that you'd been with your fair amount of people on the island. he couldn't give two shits about that. what he did care about though was topper rubbing it in his face how he'd had you. fuckin' topper. you'd slept with topper, but denied him? drove him crazy.

every weekend rafe had to listen to topper remind him of how you felt, the way you kissed him, the filthy stories echo in his brain constantly. rafe hated it. hated how jealous he got, it was ridiculous— he hadn't even had you. hadn't even touched your skin, yet he was jealous that his best friend had.

he knew that you wanted him, you just loved the game of cat and mouse more. you loved the way he craved you, how he was working so hard to win you over. nothing brought you more joy than putting rafe through the ringer, god knows he deserved it. he had been served everything on a silver platter, he deserved to work for something for once in his life.

"no." you mutter, not even meeting rafe's eyes as his mouth opens.

"i didn't even fucking say anything." he grumbles, rolling his eyes as his hands ball into his fists by his sides. he's trying so hard to not just reach out and pull you against his body. "i knew what you were gonna say," you shrug, sipping whatever liquor you found in topper's kitchen from your red solo cup.

your eyes meet his through your lashes, looking to him as though his conversation alone was a waste of your time. you always gave him that look, as though he wasn't worth your energy. rafe hated how much he loved it. "you were just gonna tell me some more bullshit, don't need to hear it to know it."

gulping down more of the liquid in your cup, before setting it down on the counter, hands on your hips as you look around the party. "huh, he's kinda hot for a pogue." you smirk, as your eyes cast over jj maybank. rafe's neck snaps around to follow your vision, jaw clenched as he spots the blonde.

"fucks he even doing here— sorry, wait—" he sneers, head turning back around to look at you. "you're not going anywhere near maybank." rafe spits, his hand gripping your upper arm. desperately trying not to acknowledge this is the first time he's touched you. no, he's too fucking angry at the idea of jj fucking maybank having you before he did.

"oh, aren't i?" you smirk, jj wasn't even the highest on your hit list tonight, but anything to piss rafe off. "watch me."

no way was rafe letting that happen, his grip tightens around your arm as you attempt to walk away from him. pulling you straight back to him, closer now, once you'd taken a step away. your body now fully pressed up against his, rafe's free hand moving to wrap around your waist, making sure there was no chance you could free yourself from his grip.

rolling your eyes as he does, but you can't help the smirk that threatens your features. "why can't you just admit you want me?" he mumbles, lips by your ear before they start to trail open mouthed kisses down your neck. "where's the fun in that?" you whisper, tilting your neck to expose more skin to him— rafe smirking as you do, feeling you start to finally give in to him.

the music playing starts to become background noise, your focus on the way rafe's lips feel against your skin, how his hands have snaked up under your tank. sprawled out against your back, keeping your chest firmly pressed up against his. humming against your skin as he feels your arms move to drape around his neck.

"you drive me crazy," his words are muffled against your skin, lips trailing up your jaw before he captures your lips with his own. immediately pushing his tongue into your mouth, groaning against your lips. tongues slide over each other, fighting for dominance while rafe pushes your body back against the kitchen counter.

your hands hold the back of his neck, angling your head to kiss him deeper, gasping into his mouth as rafe's hands hook under your thighs, hitching you up onto the kitchen counter. he slots himself between your thighs, hands gripping your hips tightly, lips never leaving yours. he couldn't care less about the onlookers eyes on the two of you, he wanted people to see you with him. needed the entire fucking party to see that he'd finally gotten what he wanted.

your lips tasted like vodka and cherry cola, and rafe never wanted to stop tasting it. one hand tangles through your hair, tugging gently as his lips slip from your mouth back down your neck. rafe nips at the base of your throat, sucking a mark into your skin. he wanted to make sure everyone in this house knew he'd put it there, that rafe had marked your skin. "come upstairs." he mumbles, pulling back to look at your face.

his eyes darkened, the hint of your red lipstick smudged around his mouth. an evil smirk across your face, leaning back on your palms as you shake your head no. you couldn't give him all the satisfaction in one night. "you're fucking killing me." he groans, head falling against your shoulder.

"i'm sure you'll live." you smirk, patting him on the shoulder before pushing past him to jump down from the counter. smoothing down your outfit as you start to walk away.

"bye top— oops, bye rafe!" you were fucking evil, he couldn't get enough.

© 222col. do not steal or repost my work without permission.