#this was just supposed to be practice for drawing hands

[desigal-26]

This is…filth. Completely. Unfiltered. Also, I kind of took inspiration from Oscar’s very obvious disappointment over the penalty in Silverstone

Reader races in Lewis’ seat and Lewis just…retired I guess (don’t hate me for this pleaseeeee)

Also I did a little blunder…mistakenly most of the tweet dates are from Jun 9 but it was supposed to be Jul 9 so plssss ignore it (and I am too lazy to change it)

Leaked Footage

Oscar Piastri x Ferrari Driver!Reader

‘Cause everyone needs a way to vent their anger out—only his turned out to be a certain driver and a leaked tape

After Silverstone’s chaos that played well for a few but ended in complete disaster for some others, a long tape appears a few days later—and it sets the world of F1 on fire.

Warnings: MDNI, 18+ Content, Smut (kind of), Oscar is NOT shy in this (like NOT AT ALL), D/S dynamics, Degradation kink, dirty talking, oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), mirror kink, hair pulling, piv intercourse, choking kink, he pinned her wrists (I can’t remember what this is called)

Oscar had just gotten off another call with Zak Brown, the McLaren CEO, who’d been teetering on the edge of a heart attack since the tape had leaked earlier that morning.

It had started with a single ping—a message. Then another. And then a tidal wave of notifications crashing in. But it wasn’t until her manager called that the panic truly set in. She had a strict do-not-disturb policy during summer break. Calls only came through if it was absolutely necessary.

Oscar had watched the colour drain from her face as she answered, her eyes growing wide, her grip tightening on the phone. Without thinking, he reached over, placed his hand on hers in comfort. But that clearly wasn’t what she wanted. The glare she shot him could have set most people ablaze. But not him.

He just raised an eyebrow, unfazed, pulling his hand back and leaning against the couch with a casual kind of defiance. His arms crossed as his gaze scanned her face—tense, unreadable, and beautiful in a way that always made his chest ache a little.

Then her eyes flicked to his phone. Her lips moved silently: “Open Twitter.”

In a normal situation, he would’ve teased her for still calling it that instead of X, but this—this wasn’t normal. So he did as told, ignoring the deluge of notifications lighting up his lock screen.

And when he saw it—his entire feed plastered with the leaked footage—his stomach dropped.

How the hell did that get out?

He swallowed hard and wordlessly handed her the phone. She scanned the screen, her eyes narrowing as the implications hit her all over again. Then she looked up, met his gaze.

That had been almost an hour ago.

Now, she sat curled into her favourite armchair, nursing coffee from her comfort mug, her expression distant. A faint red imprint lingered on her wrist—his handprint—from a moment captured and shared with the world. The hoodie she wore swallowed her whole.

His hoodie.

Oscar let out a slow breath and approached her, dropping his phone carelessly on the couch. He knelt in front of her, wrapping his hands gently around hers—drawing her attention back to him. She blinked, then offered a tired smile, soft and a little crooked, like she didn’t quite have the energy to mean it.

“What did Zak say?” she asked quietly, almost like she didn’t want to know. It wasn’t like their relationship had been a secret in the paddock—both team principals knew, and their core teams had long caught on. But fans? The media?

They had no idea.

Oscar, the current leader of the WDC, shrugged with practiced calm, his thumb tracing slow circles along her knuckles.

“He didn’t die,” he said simply.

She let out a soft snort and rolled her eyes, setting the cup down on the side table before reaching up to rake her fingers through his curls. He closed his eyes briefly, leaning into the touch.

“That’s… promising.”

He chuckled, lifting his gaze to hers. “How did Fred take it?”

She exhaled, her smile tilting a little more now. Almost playful.

“He didn’t die either.”

The video had been taken down, and both teams had jointly sued the website where it had originally surfaced. So, in a weirdly twisted way, a semblance of peace had been restored—at least within the quiet walls of their shared apartment in Monte Carlo.

She was cooking. Something savoury, rich with spice and distraction, because the endless vibrations from her phone were driving her mad. Enough people had seen the tape to make damage control nearly impossible, and those who hadn’t were making damn sure they caught up through frame-by-frame analyses on fan forums and Twitter threads.

She’d read a few—just a few.

And she would be lying if she said it hadn’t horrified her. The way people dissected their… activities with clinical precision and emotional detachment was something straight out of a psychological thriller. No privacy. No context. Just voyeurism masked as fandom.

But Oscar… he had been unusually quiet for a while.

Not silent—he wasn’t the most talkative by default—but still. Too still. Eyes glued to his phone. That alone was enough to make her pause. He never gave the device much attention when they were both at home. His interest always leaned toward her, not a screen.

“What are you doing?” she asked, settling down beside him on the couch with two plates of pasta. Comfort food. A small gesture. A way to anchor themselves.

He looked up, raised a brow at the plate in her hand, but took it anyway.

“That’s the third meal today,” he commented casually, already taking a bite. He hummed in satisfaction, eyes half-closed from the flavour—but they didn’t miss the way she immediately pouted at his observation.

“Technically it’s the first one,” she defended, twirling her fork with authority. “Chocolate and croissant don’t count as meals. That was sugar and vibes.”

Oscar chuckled, lifting his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright.”

She beamed at him, smug with victory, but her curiosity hadn’t waned. She nudged his arm gently. “So… what are you doing?”

He smiled then. That slow, mischievous smile that always meant he was up to something.

Instead of answering, he handed her his phone.

It was an Instagram post. From his official account—not the burner one only she and a select few knew about. No, this was public. Verified. Seen by millions.

It was a black and white photo of them in helmets, standing side by side on the grid. They were looking at each other—intensely, silently. She remembered that moment. Jeddah. He had won the race. She’d finished seventh—right where she’d qualified. But he had found her after the cooldown lap, helmet bumping hers gently in celebration, and someone had captured it.

The caption made her pause.

She looked up at him, eyes narrowing with affection. “Yours, hm?”

Oscar huffed a laugh, nonchalant as his arm slid around her shoulder, anchoring her to him. “The world knows that better than anyone now.”

oscarpiastri just posted!

liked by thatferraridriver, lando, mclaren, scuderiaferrari and 362986 others

oscarpiastri since the cat is out of bag, I claim her mine ✨

view all comments

thatferraridriver I too claim this calm man mine 🥰

arthur_leclerc calm as if the whole world didn’t see him fing you like it’s GOT

user not tur tur spitting facts 🤣

lando so are we gonna pretend we didn’t see you two fuck like bunnies?

thatferraridriver so am I gonna pretend I am not thinking of crashing into you on purpose in Belgian?

thatferraridriver for legal purposes, I have been told by my team to say that I was joking

user not her commenting that too 😭😂

lando will you two be heart-eyeing each other on paddock now?

thatferraridriver can you please shut up?

lando @oscarpiastri she is bullying me

oscarpiastri you brought it on yourself

lando @thatferraridriver you were better in the video

thatferraridriver and you will be better in the barriers

user @oscarpiastri pls get your girl she obliterated lando 😭😂😂

mclaren does that mean we have to share our fav couple with Ferrari?

scuderiaferrari I guess so 😮‍💨

user I want to see Zak and Fred handshaking fs of them

logansargeant mama papa 🤩

thatferraridriver our practice child 🤩

user this is the most friend third wheeling core thing ever 😂

charles_leclerc so now my teammate is my…daughter in law?

thatferraridriver hello father-in-law

user so basically…Ferrari is a big Leclerc family now?

user and McLaren has the Leclerc son 😭

f1 the most beautifully unhinged couple 😍 ♥️ by author

[sourkiki]

INK SURPRISE.

VOL. 15: you surpised your boyfriends by getting matching tattoos of their names on. needless to say, they love it. what better way to show how much they love it by spoiling you?

wc: 2259 𑁛 explicit mature content established+threesome relationship dom! 西村力 & dom!박성훈 x sub! fem! reader non-idol au other 02z made a brief cameo pussy eating+fingering unprotected sex (wrap it up) blowjobs ⪩⪨ usage of pet names service dom! riki sunghoon's a tease here ❀ catalogue

note. fun fact: this was only supposed to have sunghoon but when i saw my twt timeline about riki potentially having a tattoo, i ranted to my moot aka @jun2ki (bless you btw) and ended up making it hoonki x reader. this is for you too, i guess... @kireilien

“I think my girlfriend doesn’t love me anymore.” 

Silence. 

Sunghoon’s sudden statement caused his friends: Jay and Jake to stop what they were doing. Jay’s hand froze in midair while holding a fork. Jake, on the other hand, was attempting to steal some of Jay’s fries. They shared a confused and bewildered look, unable to believe what they were hearing. Jay cleared his throat, lowered his fork and placed it on his plate. 

“Why? Did you two argue?” He questioned, concerned, slapping Jake’s hand without looking when he continued his attempt. Jake flinched, withdrawing his hand and rubbed the now sore spot, huffing his cheeks and muttered something inaudible under his breath. 

Sunghoon shook his head, furrowing his thick eyebrows as he recalled back. “No, we rarely argue. You know that, Jay-ah. I don’t know why but she’s been ignoring me.” 

“Ignoring you how? Like does she pretend you don’t exist or?” Jake chimed in. 

“We don’t fuck anymore,” he deadpanned and Jay picked the wrong time to take a sip of his drink, only for him to end up choking. Jake scrunched his nose, disgust written all over his face. 

“And to think we’re worried because something actually happened but no, it’s just your hornyass who can’t go without having sex for a month,” the eldest deadpanned after recovering from his near-death experience. 

“This is a serious matter to me! You don’t know what it’s like to go without sex for a month!” Sunghoon complained, lightly knocking his head against the table. His slight raise of volume caused the nearby students to shoot them a weird and judgemental look, to which his friends were embarrassed by, on his behalf. 

“Have you talked to Riki about this?” Jake asked, regaining his composure. 

Sunghon huffed, raising his head and resting his cheek on the palm of his left hand. “Yeah, he’s just as confused as I am.”

Again, his friends shared a look. “Well, whatever it is, I hope you guys can figure it out. You know what they say, communication is key.”

“Not the time for your smartass words, Jake.”

“Jay, please just shut the fuck up.”

~

Unknown to your two, sweet beloved boyfriends, you were doing this for a reason. It’s a surprise for them and you didn’t want to ruin it. Which was why you had only told your shared group of friends except for Sunghoon and Riki. You could only pray that Jake won’t ramble his mouth off, considering how he has the tendency to spill secrets. Right now, you’re seated by the dining table in your dorm as you worked on your report that’s due by the end of the week. You weren’t sure how many hours had passed, drawing a long, heavy sigh from you as you removed your glasses to rub your temples, groaning in frustration. 

“Baby? You alright?” 

Looking over your shoulder, your features softened to see Riki closing the door behind him, his bag casually hanging over his left shoulder. You didn’t get up as he was quick to be by your side. He cupped your face, thumbs running along the skin underneath your eyes. You couldn’t help but lean into his touch, burying your face in his stomach.

“What happened to your dance class?” You asked, voice muffled. 

“It got cancelled. The water pipe in the practice room bursts and they need two weeks to fix it,” he replied, unable to help himself as he squished your cheeks until your lips were fully puckered. 

“Riki!” You whined, earning a chuckle from your boyfriend. He ducked his head, planting a kiss on your forehead. The small display of affection was enough to turn your face red as compared to Sunghoon, Riki prefers to shower you with love behind closed doors. 

“Sorry, you’re too cute,” he apologized but the tone he used said otherwise. He looked at your laptop, curiosity shown on his face on the bright screen. “How long have you been working on your report?” 

“Uh, a few hours?” You answered meekly, averting your eyes in shame when he arched an eyebrow at you. 

“We’ve talked about this, haven’t we, hm? You shouldn’t be pushing yourself too hard,” he clicked his tongue, lightly poking your forehead, eliciting a whine from you. 

“I’m sorry. I really need to finish it and I’ve been busy working on my other projects too,” you sighed. 

Riki coos. “Aw, poor baby. Let me take care of you, please?” 

You nodded, squeaking when he easily lifted you up, like you weighed nothing. It was by instinct that you wrapped your arms around him, like a koala bear as he brought you to the bedroom. Riki gently placed you down, only for him to capture your lips in a needy, intense kiss—the contrast giving you whiplash. You gasped when he teasingly nipped at your bottom lip, giving him the chance to slide his tongue as he explored your mouth with one, thorough lick. It’s enough to make you feel all tingly, your strength leaving your body as you let him do as he pleased. 

His hands began working on removing your clothes but he paused when he realized you were wearing his hoodie. It completely engulfs you with the hem reaching your thighs. Riki swore when he also realized you weren’t wearing anything underneath the hoodie and shorts. 

“You’re such a tease, aren’t you? Wearing nothing but my clothes,” he groaned against your lips, hand making itself at home between your legs, drawing a breathless mewl from you. 

“You’re already dripping wet for me. Looks like someone’s needy,” he purrs, about to push your hoodie up when a voice interrupts the two of you. 

“What’s this? Starting without me? How cruel.”

You turned to the door where Sunghoon was, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. Despite the laid-back tone, you could tell he was barely holding himself back, with how his eyes darkened as he took in your current state. You whined, barely able to speak as you made grabby hands at him. Sunghoon softened as he entered the bedroom, sitting behind you while Riki remained in between your legs. Sunghoon lifted you up, placing you on his lap with you leaning against his chest. He rested his large, warm hands on your thighs, holding you down when Riki lowered himself to his elbows.

“Shh, just relax and let us take care of you,” Sunghoon murmured into your ear, planting kisses along the expanse of your neck. 

Riki pushed the hoodie up and up, only for him to freeze, gaining Sunghoon’s attention. What they saw took their breaths away.

They stared at the tattoo—their names, imprinted on both sides of your hips, just above your hip bones. Their minds blanked out as Riki’s hand brushed against it, sending shivers down your spine. You, on the other hand, were nervous. You didn’t expect them to find out this early as you wanted to wait until you’ve fully recovered. 

“..Is this why you’ve been avoiding us?” Sunghoon asks in awe. 

You squirmed about on his lap, unable to face either of them. “I wanted this to be a surprise. Does it look bad?” 

Sunghoon clicked his tongue, turning your chin towards him. “No, it doesn’t. And considered us getting surprised. We didn’t expect you to do this. But, we like it.” 

You glanced at Riki, who nodded his head. He didn’t give you time to react, licking a long, flat stripe along your dripping folds. You visibly flinched, instinctively trying to close your legs but Sunghoon was faster. He tightened his grip, nails digging into your thighs, forcing you to remain still. In an attempt to distract you, he kisses you, eagerly swallowing your sounds while Riki eats you out, like a man on a mission. 

You outright whined at the feeling of Riki sliding three fingers in, pumping them at a slow pace while Sunghoon had reached down, spreading your pussy lips apart, granting the younger to slide his fingers deeper in. 

“F-Fuck, ngh, t-too much,” you panted, blindly reaching out with your hands as you grabbed onto a fistful of Riki’s hair while your other hand grabbed onto Sunghoon’s wrist, the very same wrist that’s spreading you apart for the younger. 

“Too much? But your body says otherwise,” Riki chuckled, thumb gently pressing down on your clit, laughing at how you whined at the mere contact, hips jerking up but he withdrew his thumb, fingers still inside you. 

You realized through your blurry state that while your two boyfriends are still fully clothed, you were completely bare. The huge contrast shows the type of roles the three of you have in your relationship. Your ears registered the rustling sounds of the sheets behind you and the next thing you knew, Sunghoon had lifted you off his lap and placed you on the sheets. You whined at the lack of warmth but he was quick to soothe you by running his hand through your hair. 

“Open up, princess,” he softly demands, now standing near the bed with his sweatpants and boxers lowered, just enough to free his hardened cock. The sight made your mouth water and you parted your lips, jaw slackening as you let Sunghoon gently pull you forward until your head was dangling off the edge of the bed. 

“Hyung, I’m busy here,” Riki whines, sending the older a light-hearted glare and you would have cooed, if Sunghoon didn’t push his cock into your mouth. 

Your eyes widened, tears blurring your vision as he continued until the tip hit the back of your throat. Just like Riki, Sunghoon didn’t give you time to breathe, moving his hips in a lazy pace as he fucks your mouth. You tried your best to keep up, tongue darting along the girth as you traced the outline of his veins protruding but it was easier said than done. You couldn’t focus, not when Riki had detached his mouth from your pussy. Heck, you weren’t even aware that you had come undone, thanks to Riki’s skillful tongue. 

His chin and lips glistened underneath the light, covered in a thick layer of your slick. Riki wiped them away with the back of his hand, fumbling to tug his sweatpants and boxers down. He scooped the goop dripping from your pussy, using it to lube his cock. Riki grabbed your left leg, tossed it over his shoulder and pushed it in one go. You couldn’t moan, not when your mouth’s full of cock and could only let out a high-pitched, muffled sound. 

“Shit, you’re so tight,” Riki rasped, hands drawing circles on your hips. 

“Poor princess. Can’t even speak,” Sunghoon coos, faux sweetness evident in his voice as he looks down at you, smirking at your teary eyes staring back at him. 

Riki begins thrusting into you. The bedroom was filled with the loud, lewd and obscene squelching sounds of his cock sliding in and out of your pussy, rearranging your insides to the shape of his cock. Sunghoon, on the other hand, groaned at his incoming climax. He didn’t warn you, spilling his cum down your throat. You gagged but managed to swallow them all and he pulled out from your now swollen, bruised lips with an audible ‘pop’ sound. 

Now that your mouth’s empty, you were able to let out the sounds you’ve been holding back. 

“R-Riki, fuck, p-please,” you whined, throwing one arm over to shield your eyes when you realized how Sunghoon was merely watching, like you’re putting on a show for him and only him. 

“Yeah? You wanna cum? Wanna let Riki know how good he’s making you feel?” Sunghoon asks, now sitting on the edge of the bed, glancing at Riki, who understood his intentions and stopped thrusting, allowing Sunghoon to manhandle you, returning to your position—you sitting on his lap. 

Riki had to shuffle closer, sliding his cock back in and this time, he pounds into you with newfound determination. The determination to make you cum for the second time. Sunghoon leaned down, angling your head towards his to kiss you. You felt like you were being tortured, your senses on overdrive as your two boyfriends showered you with nothing but love and affection. 

“Ngh, gonna cum, gonna cum,” you cried out, breaking the kiss. Your head dipped backwards until it landed on Sunghoon’s shoulders, eyelids fluttering shut. 

“That’s it. Cum for me, princess,” Riki coaxes and you came with a high-pitched moan, chanting his name like a prayer. 

Your thighs trembled from the intensity of your climax, body going pliant as you slumped against Sunghoon’s chest. A soft whine left your lips when you felt Riki spilling deep inside you, making you feel full of his cum. You panted heavily, trying to catch your breath while Riki slowly pulled out. 

“Wha-!?” You squeaked when your vision turned upside down. 

You gulped at the sight of Sunghoon now hovering over you. Glancing down, your breath hitched to see him aligning his cock against your sensitive entrance. You wanted to push him away, protests forming at the tip of your tongue but Riki was faster. He was instantly behind you, pinning your wrists behind your back as he rested his head on your right shoulder. 

“Ah ah, I wouldn't do that if I were you. We did say we’ll take good care of you, didn’t we, hyung?” He murmured, directing the last sentence to Sunghoon.

He nodded, eyes darkening a shade. “Yea, so you better prepare yourself, princess. Because we’re not stopping until we’re satisfied.”

tags list: @chuhees, @byshens, @hoonstqr, @doucious, @emisluvr, @riqomi, @onlyywwon, @jjung-v, @minjunis, @rikisoup, @i-love-hannah-more-than-chan.

[tiredandsapphic]

꩜ JUST CUDDLES

pairing ꩜ lottie matthews x femreader

summary ꩜ where lottie and you find a way to tether yourselves to each other in the wilderness

an ꩜ fluff nsfw…blurb cuz life be so busy <\3

you and lottie always have been close before the crash. sleepovers in her giant room, high on dumb snacks and teenage fears, joking about the future like it wasn’t going to collapse beneath you. though one thing you would never imagine going through together is having your plane crash deep within the wilderness.

it had only made sense that the both of you clung to each other, like your only grounding source. lottie came to you for everything, her worries, thoughts and well once you discovered the cabin you noticed her behaviour shifting.

you two of course shared the same bed in the cabin, duh. even when the others said there was more than enough supplies to make another bed. it was more practical for her to sleep you with, right? she made her claim. plus, it was getting colder at night, so every time you were fast asleep and lottie felt the threat of sleep she would slip in beside you. close, wanting to feed off your warmth and your security you brought her in such a tormented place. it wasn’t uncommon to wake up with her long arm around your waist, another under your head, legs tangled with yours and her breath steady on your neck.

lottie wanted to make you queen. softly suggesting it somedays, nearly demanding it other nights. you cared for her but not this spiral the other girls fed off. you were opposed to that, wanting to feel human still. you hate watching people blindly follow her and she hates even more that you’re not one of them.

you’re not really sure when or how it happened. but it was after the cabin burnt to the ground. you remember standing there that night, watching the ambers engulf it, lottie’s hand slipped into yours. when you peered over, the smile on her face was undeniable. she nudged you slightly, leaning down to whisper towards you. “it’s a sign of new beginnings. it wanted this.”

after that everything just went down hill faster. when the huts were made it wasn’t even a question that lottie and you would share a hut. you built it together—well maybe lottie did a lot of the work, she wasn’t that tall for nothing. you lived together like a little fucked up family now, coming ‘home’ to each other.

just cuddling quickly crossed a line, neither of you truly opposed to the idea. it happened one night, lottie spiraling just a little more than usual—you’ve had a tense day of arguments with shauna. it all just exploded that night, lottie whispering too many cryptic things, you already on edge.

“you know we’re supposed to be together, right?” she whispers, crawling closer to you on the hut ground, grabbing your hand.

you furrow your brows and scoff, not denying your hand however, “okay lottie, sure, the trees told you that.”

she simply shakes her head, dead serious, deep brown eyes on set on you. “i see it when im out there. me and you. it’s not a coincidence, it’s purpose.”

and she speaks like shes preaching a sermon—you nearly believe it for a moment. but without question your lips are colliding in frustration. it’s not neat or romantic, it’s primal.

after that it’s ritual. maybe it’s to keep you both a little more sane but it works—and neither of you are complaining. lottie fucks you like it’s a prayer and you take it like a sacrifice. the other girls are so aware of the relationship between you two but don’t dare to question it. no—lottie’s taken a firm possession on you. they know you’re hers.

whenever someone had ticked you off, lottie is there to listen. always. you’ve cried to her countless time, and she held you. cuddled up with you, holding you in her warm embrace. then proceeded to eat you out for hours. until you forget why you were crying. she takes you to another world so any problems you have here don’t matter anymore.

lottie is never found not drawing symbols on you with her fingers. whether it’s just while she holds you, or perhaps when you’re gasping against her. are they for protection or claim? you’ll never know.

most days are soft though. softness is needed in a place like the wilderness, everything is so sharp amongst the group. most nights you’re tangled together, bare and skin to skin. it’s so slow and somehow safe. lottie takes her time with you, knuckles deep in you but her words so achingly sweet. “i was made to love you and you were made to take it.” and when you come? “you’re so gorgeous when you come. you’re the prettiest thing out here.”

it’s the best when you’re in the hut, sleeping snd lottie decides to finally join. she slips in beside you, slender fingers trailing under your clothes, the pads of her fingers grazing your skin. it’s home that she’s learnt to love, and home that she’s too accustomed to now. you know how calm her down, to reassure her, and exactly where to touch her.

you’ll never be too sure what you have. you don’t push. even when she talks too much of signs snd letting go of earthy attachments. but when you’re curled together under your hut, when she kisses your neck and falls asleep with her breath on your neck—shes just lottie. your safe place. even if the wilderness is slowly taking her away from you.

[focusontheheart]

Under the cut, please find the complete ending guide to reach the romantic ending in Nil's route, including descriptions from route writers behind the decision. Please note that during gameplay, answers may appear in a different order than indicated.

This question kicked off one of the most important aspects of the Nil route - Aloy’s willingness to see Nil as a partner and to work as a team. The best choice here is for her to offer to come alongside him, not to show him how to do it better or just watch him figure it out on his own, but to meet him where he’s at and work together with him. Aloy asking instead of telling (like she would in the “suggest a fix” option) also highlights her own growth by trying to be better at connecting with people instead of immediately trying to fix a problem.

This question comes after Aloy finds out about the lingering Eclipse presence in the West that Nil is hunting down and we went pretty subtle with this one. Ostensibly, all of these are good choices, and this question really hits the most at what Aloy’s focus is on at this moment and that’s where we put the emphasis. Tracking them down is very mission oriented and somewhat detached from Nil, whereas mentioning that it may be dangerous for him to do this alone is more empathetic but also puts doubt in his abilities despite him having proven himself a very capable warrior in the past. Saying that it sounds like a challenge may seem more lighthearted, but that’s what it’s supposed to be: Aloy acknowledging that they’re both extremely competent and that she would be willing to join him in another of their ventures together, which have always presented a challenge in one way or another.

Aloy and Nil coming across the first pair of Eclipse is an extremely important moment in their journey and we did get tricky with these options because of that. Once again, this is meant to highlight how Aloy approaches their partnership and teamwork, but most importantly this is meant for her to give Nil the choice in how he wants to proceed without taking over. Both of them are leaders, but we’ve seen Aloy struggle to give her trust to others and we’ve also seen through her eyes as Nil goes through his own journey. Offering to take care of the Eclipse without him implies that that she knows he’s not dueling or really killing anymore and she can take care of them if he doesn’t want to, but it also takes that choice away from him, especially after he started this mission on his own, knowing that he would be fighting and killing Eclipse soldiers. Offering to take them since she needs to practice, on the other hand, cheapens the mission they’re on in one way and also cheapens the act of taking the life of another; for all that Nil called it “sport” in HZD, we also know that death is intrinsically tied to him and that taking a step away from that in HFW was a huge step for him so making light of that isn’t something he would like her doing. Offering to let him take care of them allows for his choice in the matter, letting him set his own boundaries and also give him the chance to offer her the choice to team up again, which he does.

At this point, Nil is telling Aloy about his childhood and being drafted into the Sun-King’s army at a very young age. The options we gave almost mirror the canon choices of heart-fist-brain, where one is empathetic, one is a little more strong-handed, and the last is an observation. Saying it sounds like a difficult childhood is Aloy being empathetic, but it doesn’t quite cross the boundary between them where she opens up. Saying that our pasts make us stronger, while perhaps true, is more callous and almost dismisses the horror of what he is revealing to her. Drawing the parallel between them with her own early childhood highlights both their similarities and their differences, at once both commiserating with him but also claiming her own choice in her journey that he didn’t have. In this way, aloy opens up to him about herself without dismissing his own struggles, and also internally realizes a little bit more about why he’s so macabre now when that’s how he was raised.

This question about Nil’s whittling hobby was meant to gauge how Aloy feels about Nil, and whether she’s more concerned about him being a threat or curious about him and his story. Saying it seems like a good thing for him implies that she’s focusing the most on him using it as a coping mechanism to keep from being a danger to himself or others which, while true, shouldn’t be what she focuses on above him as a person. Asking if he has any carvings she can see is more positive and shows her curiosity, but it doesn’t get to the heart of him the way that the last option does. Asking him how he learned to carve indicates that she wants to know more about him and his past, about why he does things, tapping both into Aloy’s innate curiosity and her connection to Nil. It is an open-ended question from her, encouraging Nil to reveal more about himself because she wants to know.

Since Nil is one of the recurring characters that was not brought into the know in HFW, we thought this moment was a really important one for their relationship. Aloy has often been forced to share her story in one way or another, so choosing to let someone in of her volition was a big choice and how she decides to do that is vital. Saying that she doesn’t want to burden him means that she doesn’t think he’s strong enough to either understand or carry the weight of it, lessening his own strength and insulting him. Choosing to say that she’s not ready to tell him means that telling him is either a burden on her or that she doesn’t fully trust him, neither of which bode well for their relationship. Telling him that he’s been in the dark for long enough is an acknowledgement of the fact that she does trust him and that she’s giving in to her own need for connection and support from those she cares about.

While Aloy is opening up about her HFW companions to Nil, we give players the choice for her to open up more or less. This one was mostly context clues: both of the other options are more vague and the wording is less open to questions, almost dismissive in the “they’re a good group” option. That one in particular may also come off to Nil that he wasn’t good enough to be included in her cadre, whether or not she meant that. Saying that there was someone else is more specific and it naturally invites the “who and what happened” question that gives Aloy the space to open up about Varl and how his loss scarred her. This could have also been referring to Seyka, but because of Nil’s connection to life and death, we wanted to tap into her grief and vulnerability over Varl’s fate.

This choice comes after Aloy almost thought she watched Nil die, that she had lost another person and failed them the way she did Varl, which means she’s shaken and trying to hide it. Waiting for him to speak seems like it leaves space for him to take the lead, but it also means Aloy is likely retreating into her own head and not opening up to him. Telling him to move faster next time can be playful, but it’s also the same kind of censure a superior gives to a subordinate, not necessarily to a partner. Apologizing about his face paint while she tends to his wound lightens the mood a little, but it also acknowledges that she’s stripping him of one of the many masks he’s donned the same way that she’s been vulnerable with him during the past day. She’s seen his face before, but masks can be shields and he’s facing down a villain from his past, so she’s letting him know that she sees what he was doing and is sorry for taking that away from him even as she’s trying to help him.

After watching Nil get hit, Aloy has a flashback to her harrowing encounter with the Kraakspike, causing her to freeze and we know now that Nil noticed and he calls her out for it. Aloy can choose to make a joke of it (“surprised to see you get hit for once”), cut herself off from support and almost censuring herself for her weakness (“yes, but it won’t happen again”), or she can admit that she’s not always hyper-competent and open up about her horrible experience and how that’s affected in the past few months.

This question is meant to call back to the emphasis on teamwork and trust in each other’s skills. Choosing to mirror Nil and take the grasses to the left while he takes the grasses to the right indicates that she trusts him to take care of himself and that section of guards while she does the same on her side. Following Nil, while it keeps them together, makes the process take a bit longer and doesn’t necessarily play to the fact that they’re both extremely skilled warriors. Creating a distraction, on the other hand, is never a way they fought together in the past and deviates from that comfortable partnership they would have fostered in the bandit camps of HZD, and would therefore confuse Nil and throw them off balance.

This is the more intense - and hopefully easier - version of Q2, even though the answer at surface level doesn’t match offering Nil the initial choice with the first Eclipse soldiers. Does Aloy try to take everything onto her own shoulders to spare him and thereby underestimate his strength? Does she let him shoulder the burden of killing his old tormentor and guide alone? Or does she offer to do this together, facing down his past as partners and sharing the weight of his struggle the same way he would do for her? In the bandit camps, what they were doing was honorable but Nil wasn’t in a good place and Aloy didn’t fully trust him yet. After his own growth and her finally starting to let others in, they’re both in a better place where their partnership can flourish and they’ll fight together better than ever when they’re facing down an enemy who will only cause more death and destruction if they let him go.

And here we come to the crux of their partnership. Choosing to say that Nil is a soldier shrinks him down to only his former role and the weapon he was molded to be initially against his will, overlooking his own struggle to become more than that since he was released from prison. Saying “we need you” is much better, but that infers that it’s not personal, that they need him in the war against Nemesis as another ally and that’s all. Aloy saying “I need you” makes it intensely personal, acknowledging that he is important to her and that she wants more from their relationship than chance meetings on the road or another ally to throw into the upcoming battles. This is Aloy asking for more from him in the hopes that he’ll meet her halfway…and if you played your cards right, he will!

We hope you enjoyed your journey through the romantic Nil route! Now that you know how to best get a smooch, try to mix and match other options to get different endings as well! Note: the Nil route has seven endings and we did emotionally damage ourselves writing several of them. If you reached the romantic epilogue, we encourage you to give it another look, and really… Focus.

[raghaziel]

Stephen Glass x BratStudent Summary : It was only supposed to be extra homework until he find until he found out you cheated. Warning : Blackmail, abusive relationships, detachment, psychological pressure. Serie : part 1 Ragh's note : The rest will probably be published in an hour because I'm really looking forward to hearing your feedback on the spicy scene!

You'd gotten away with it. Or so you thought. You sent in the essay at 4:53pm on Saturday, just before the deadline. You barely read it. You barely cared. You didn't even know what the conclusion was about. A convoluted metaphor about eternal damnation and moral weakness. But the font sounded right, and Marcus - the love-starved sophomore who'd practically begged for a favor - had insisted it was “deeply convincing.” Judging by her almost sickly need to get your attention or even the way her gaze traveled up your shirt to try and catch a glimpse of a piece of your ample bosom tugging at the fabric.

Whatever that meant. You didn't question it. Not when the last game of the season was starting in less than an hour. Not while the sky was orange and gold over the stadium, and the stands were already buzzing with excitement and sweaty cologne. Not while your friends were tugging at your sleeve with laughter, drawing scratches on your cheek, passing each other stoned soda bottles and whispering about what they'd do after the win. It was easy to pretend, for a moment, that Stephen Glass didn't exist. But then...you saw him.

At the edge of the field, near the bottom of the bleachers, standing apart from the group of teachers as if sculpted in shadow. Stephen Glass. Dark wool coat. Gray scarf. Black gloves. Totally out of place and yet more authoritative than any of the men in blazers and team caps yelling at his side. He wasn't watching the game. He was watching you. When your gaze met his, your stomach tightened.

He didn't wave. Didn't frown. Didn't look away. He just smiled. A cold, dark, surgical smile. Not pleasant. It was the kind of expression someone would wear just before telling you they'd already buried the body. You turned your head away abruptly, your cheeks flushed. Someone nudged your shoulder playfully, offering you another sip of alcoholic soda, and you pretended to laugh. But your heart wasn't in it. Not while you could still feel his gaze.

You tried not to look at him again. You failed. Again and again, your eyes landed on him, as if your neck were being pulled by a thread. And then - for the seventh time, maybe the eighth - you saw him. He raised a hand. One hand. Then held out a gloved finger. He folded it towards himself. One time. Come. The gesture was subtle. Not enough to draw the crowd's attention, but precise enough for you to know that he was speaking only to you. Your throat tightened. Your friends were still shouting, still laughing, still oblivious - until you stopped answering.

“What's wrong?” someone asked.

You didn't answer. You simply stood still, wiping imaginary lint from your skirt. Then someone else followed your gaze. “Oh my God,” one of the girls murmured, laughing. "Isn't that our dear, cold, sexy professor? Damn his look makes me want to take off my panties."

You said nothing. And then - because pretending not to see it would have been worse - you climbed down. Every metal step of the bleachers groaned beneath your feet, every second stretched and grew long and exposed. Your friends fell silent. You felt their eyes following you, confusion rising like steam. But you didn't turn. He didn't move. He just stood there, waiting, like the executioner under the gallows. The closer you got, the quieter the stadium became - until it was just the two of you, locked in that intimate, unbearable silence. And when you stopped in front of him, trying not to look too nervous, trying not to smell his cologne again...

He sketched a wider smile.

His expression remained still. Didn't soften. But his gaze darkened, as if daring you to disobey him in public. To test his patience. You swallowed hard. And then you climbed down. Slowly, slowly. Each metal step sounded in your ears like a countdown. Your friends shouted at you, but the sound was distant. Muffled. Like screams in the water. You feel your friends' eyes following your silhouette, completely dazed, not knowing what you were doing.

As your feet touched the grass, the sound of the match faded behind you. All that remained was Stephen. Standing in front of you, hands in his coat pockets, face calm, but something was wrong in the air. Heavy. He nodded toward the concrete tunnel just below the bleachers. Where no one else was. Where teachers sometimes walked during rain breaks. Where the noise faded and the shadows pressed in.

You followed. Why did you follow? The tunnel engulfed you both. Concrete walls, leaky pipes, a faint smell of mildew and cigarette smoke. Your boots sounded too loud. You felt small. Young. Trapped. Yet his gaze didn't linger on the pleat of your skirt, which showed a hint of your thigh.

He stopped. Turned around slowly. And said, very softly:

“You didn't write that paper.”

Your stomach knotted. “I...”

“Don't insult me.” His voice cracked like a whip. “Don't pretend.”

He took a step forward. Just one. Enough for you to smell that same woody cologne, faint but maddening. His gaze never left yours, not for a second.

"You plagiarized. Not a source, no - you're not that blatant. You manipulated someone. A nice stupid boy, I guess. You've got the guts for it."

You flinched. But you didn't deny it. He shook his head once, slowly. Almost pityingly. "I expected a mediocre essay, Y/N. I didn't expect contempt."

Silence. You didn't know what to say. You didn't know what he wanted. But then... He stepped forward again. You recoiled instinctively. Your spine hit the damp concrete wall behind you, and he didn't stop until there was barely a space between you. The tunnel narrowed. The cold air was electric. Stephen's voice dropped, but not in volume - in tone. In intensity.

“Was the game really worth it?” he asked. “Was it worth risking everything, just to be adored for a few more hours?”

You didn't answer. You couldn't. He reached out - and for a second, you thought he was going to touch you. But instead, he pulled the scarf from your neck, slowly, deliberately, as if to test how far you'd let him go before reacting. The scarf slid slowly from your neck to caress your collarbone and run down your breasts.

“I told you to be a good girl,” he said in a smoky voice. “And you disobeyed me.”

You hated the way your pulse betrayed you. The way the heat rose between your ribs. How your eyes stayed riveted to hers when you should have fled.

“I wasn't flunking you because you're stupid,” he murmured. “I was flunking you because you think you're smart.”

And then... he leaned in. Without touching you. Not yet. His breath touched your ear as he said:

"But you're stupid enough to provoke the only person who cares about your father's money."

The back of your hand brushes your cheek, his large hand with long, slender fingers. Pianist's. His index finger lingers lightly on your lower lip before he rests his forearm on the wall above your head.

"Open your mouth," he repeats, his voice a low, authoritative command. "Let me see that clever tongue of yours. The one you use to wrap boys around your finger... among other things."

[ibuprofein]

plug!connie x reader pt 2

tags: angst, plug!connie, romantic tension, smoking, drug references, toxic relationship undertones, kissing, oblivious fwb

The thing about Connie was: he never called it anything.

Not a relationship. Not a fling. Not even you and him.

It was just late-night texts. “You up?” “Slide through.” “You still got that hoodie I left?”

And yet, he acted like he owned you especially leaving big and purple hickies on your neck every time he seen you!

One time, he had the nerve to be upset with you because you were a SINGLE woman talking to a SINGLE man at a party, who happened to not be connie, surprisingly. He immediately interrupted the conversation as soon as he noticed the guy was looking like he was a little to close for HIS own liking disregarding how attracted you might be to him.

Please don’t let anyone else got too close you like that again, he would do the unimaginable.

Welll…..It happened again at a kickback in Jean’s garage.

Someone passed you a drink—some lanky guy with a weak fade and too much cologne. You didn’t even catch his name. But he leaned in to say something, close enough that his words brushed your neck.

That was all it took.

Suddenly, Connie was behind you, one hand gripping your waist, the other smacking your ass so hard the room went quiet for half a second. His voice dropped, casual but loud enough:

“Damn, baby. You just gon’ let dudes talk to you like that when you still got my marks on you?”

Your cheeks burned as you ducked your head. You already knew what he meant—your neck was practically a mural of bruises, painted by his mouth just the night before. You’d tried covering them with makeup, but Connie was possessive in private. He always made sure to leave something behind.

The guy stammered and walked off. Connie just chuckled, tugging you closer by the hem of your crop top.

“What?” he said when you glared at him. “I’m just lettin’ ‘em know.”

“Know what? You don’t even claim me.”

He smirked down at you, shameless. “Don’t need to say nothin’ when it’s obvious.”

And maybe he had a point.

Because when you two walked in together, he always had an arm around your shoulders or a hand in your back pocket. Because every party, every smoke sesh, every half-lit room you shared—he was next to you. Lighting your blunt. Brushing your hair back. Kissing your shoulder when he thought no one was watching.

But everyone was watching.

Sasha raised her brows every time you sat on Connie’s lap like it was natural. Jean once mumbled, “Y’all just gonna pretend you’re not dating?” and Connie just laughed, said, “She my smoke buddy.” But his hand stayed on your thigh for the rest of the night.

Even Mikasa once asked, “You guys still… friends?”

And you’d lied.

“Yeah. Just chillin’.”

But it wasn’t just chillin’. Not when his hoodie still smelled like you. Not when he’d call you at 2am and whisper things like “I wish I could stay.” Not when he kissed you like he was afraid you’d leave.

You hated how your heart skipped every time he touched you.

Because this wasn’t supposed to mean anything.

But it was the little things. How he always made you split the last hit. How he got irrationally quiet anytime you posted a selfie with another guy. How his jaw clenched when someone asked if you were single and you answered yes.

How one time, at a diner with the group, he made you share his fries—fed you one—and when Armin raised a brow, Connie just said, “What? She likes mine better.”

You slept over that night.

Lying on Connie’s bed, the weed was still thick in the air. Your bodies were tangled—his arm draped across your waist, fingers drawing lazy shapes on your stomach. Shirtless, lips swollen, his breath slow like he might drift off.

“You ever think about it?” you murmured.

He stirred. “Think about what?”

You hesitated.

“This. Us. What it’d be like if… it wasn’t just smoking and hooking up.”

He was quiet too long.

You didn’t expect him to answer.

You rolled away from him, wrapping the sheet tighter around your chest.

“Forget it.”

But then—his hand reached out. Gripped your wrist. Pulled you back gently.

“I think about it all the time,” he said hoarsely.

You looked at him.

His eyes weren’t smug. Or teasing.

They were honest. Raw.

“But I’m scared to fuck it up,” he added. “Scared if I try to make it real, you won’t want me no more.”

You were stunned silent.

Then you laughed—quiet, bitter. “Everyone already thinks we’re in love.”

“Yeah,” he whispered. “I know.”

You leaned into him. Let his fingers tangle in your hair. Let him kiss you again, slow and aching.

Maybe you were both scared.

But if this was the only way you could have him—for now—you’d take it.

Yallllll I feel so accomplished finishing pt.2! I might just do little blurbs with plug!connie unless yall got some recs! Feel free to leave recs in my ask box and I’ll start writing ;)

[coolwyous]

LOVEEEEE aaa maphinz, but i’m thinking of maphinz with their child/family 🙏 #needthat hc’s juseyo

DOMESTIC PARENTS!AU MAPHINZ LETS GOOOOOO

never agreeing on one single direction for ANY of the baby decor so they end up combining all their ideas and it's such a cute eclectic combination...... maphinz my angels of compromise.

sophia being VERY particular abt how the kids leave the house like she will never allow their child to go out with a single hair out of place <3 and manon is usually p chill but she is also not about to recieve any "who dressed u" allegations so their kids are lowkey the most well-dressed, aesthetically coordinated babies u have ever seen <3333 maphinz don't like to match directly bc that's WAYY too much but they will always lowkey coordinate colors while sticking to their own styles...... the family themselves has too much swag they're too powerfully coordinated fr

sophia is v serious about making sure their kids' hair is well-kept, even if manon isn't around to braid/clean it up. she def practiced braiding/parts/designs on manon for ages in preparation for their lil curly textured-haired babies to be well taken care of!!

sophia loves to bedazzle/personalize all of their kids' things!! like the baby bag FOR SURE has their kids' initials on it, the stroller has little stickers on it, soph loves giving everything a personalized touch and manz is super creative so even if she thinks sophia is being extra you can 100% believe she's gonna be up til 1am w her wife hand-drawing their kid's initials on every single one of their bottles!! they r FOR SURE cricut printer parents in another domestic life lmao

sophia singing their kids to sleep every night while manon stands quietly in the doorway of the kids' room, just silently admiring her family...... kill me

a big misconception being manon is the only one w a sense of humor as a parent? which is false bc filipino humor is ELITE but also lowkey cruel!! like manz's pranks include drawing a mustache on the baby in eyeliner or replacing the water in sophia's stanley with baby formula but sophia's pranks look like deadass gaslighting manon into thinking she forgot to pick up their child at daycare 💔 manz PANICKING like "no fucking way, it's tuesday, it's supposed to be your day to pick up" and sophia is like "baby, we agreed i'd do wednesdays. where the fuck is our child?" and manon is SPRINTING to the car trying not to panic meanwhile sophia is recording the whole thing on the nanny-cam, grinning into the camera like "haha i got you, i love you, you're an amazing mom mUAH"

sophia being the parent w all the documents organized, the google calendar prepared, each day scheduled out to a t and then manon is the one who does things so impromptu like "yes my love scheduling his developmental milestones is cool and all but our son just told me he's craving a pretzel so i think we're gonna go to the mall rq" and it drives sophia INSANE but then they're at the mall pushing the baby in the stroller and manon is so chill and so doting.......

the baby/toddler era is def sophia helicopter parenting and manon being like "he's fine to eat paint, in europe they'd be at the club by 12 yrs old" BUT it switches once their kids are a little older! everyone assumes sophia is the tiger mom and manon is the devil-may-care but once the kids r a lil older sophia is a firm believer in "let them learn their own consequences" vs manon is like "wait hold on we gotta shield them" bc they both lowkey start to adopt the opposite of what they grew up with <333

they both insist on teaching their kids their native tongues so the kids are deadass trilingual by the time they can start talking! GENIUS babies fr

still debating how many they have but 100% at least 2, one mellow and goofy like manz and one a lil more intense but soft like soph <333 and u know DAMN WELL each child has like 2 middle names....... longest named household for sure

disney music playing ALL THE TIME in the house..... family musical dates, singing in the car, the whole 9 yards oh and they FOR SURE have the biggest minivan in the neighborhood..... manon always clowns all the stereotypical parent shit (says stupid shit like "why do we need a baby carrier, we can just swing him around in an ikea bag" and sophia just gives her that dead unamused stare) but manz always ends up showing just how much she cares without making a huge deal out of it..... the mini van was one example, sophia wanted a more family friendly-car and instead of clowning her as expected manon just goes "well, if we're gonna do it we might as well get a good one, just in case," and that's how cool nonchalant manz ended up driving her kids around in a fuckass minivan singing love is an open door on loop....... and she lowkey couldn't be happier <3

[thenexusofsouls]

As he listened to her describe him, Xenos' eyes widened with such innocent amazement at what she was saying. She... really seemed to think a lot of him. Had he really made that good of an impression on her in such a short amount of time? Xenos didn't know how he would've managed that, since his social skills were practically nonexistent, but he could feel it too... this connection they had. They had much in common, and perhaps that had served to shape their view of the world in similar ways. Beyond that, he could feel the pull of something stronger, something more abstract. An energy between them, a draw. Never before had he felt so drawn to someone else like this, and he rather liked it. It was exciting and invigorating.

"Why... would I not... be kind... to you? You have... been so... to me," he said, as if that was how the world worked. Maybe it was the way the world should have worked, but sadly, people didn't always reciprocate things like kindness. His expression softened into something a little more somber just then, though, the first part of what she'd said finally sinking in. "You too..." he observed. "Remained... kind... despite... hardship." Maybe Wanda hadn't shared what she'd been through with him yet, but he could sense that she had suffered. It was a feeling he got when he looked deep into her eyes.

"No. Not bad. Just... inter-... interesting. Never been called... before," he said. He supposed that maybe he was mysterious, covering himself in this manner. He wasn't trying to be, he'd only wanted to block out some harsh stimuli like light by wearing the hood, and to help himself to feel a little less uneasy with things like eye contact. He didn't mind looking into Wanda's eyes, though. Maybe that was because she didn't look at him with hatred, anger, fear, or disgust, all things he was used to seeing in the eyes of others.

"Yes," Xenos said without hesitation. "I mean it." Oh yes, she was very special to him. He would already do just about anything to protect her, even place himself in danger. She had made that level of a dramatic impression on him and earned that kind of devotion already. "Can always see," he decided. "If you want. I will... always... let you see me." That wasn't something he permitted anyone before, to see his face without the hood whenever they wanted, but Wanda had earned that from him. And he rather liked even when he did have his hood draped over his face, when she looked up and saw him anyway, a lovely smile on her face. It was like he was being seen in private, a beautiful dichotomy of feelings between hiding away and being exposed, but only to her.

"Never f-feared... you... either," Xenos admitted. "Was curious... but not... fearful." He leaned against her hand as she stroked his cheek. There was an innocence to his gaze, as though he was looking upon a goddess and he only a lowly servant. Or perhaps it was someone seeing the beauty of another, inside and out, for the first time after seeing so... so much ugliness in others.

- - - - -

Xenos was still wary of Tony and Steve too, but he didn't like seeing Wanda on edge either. For now, it seemed like they were merely curious, and if they really had gotten a room set up for him, then that was a most unexpected kindness. Xenos knew he should take that for what it was instead of being so suspicious, so he tried to push his nervousness way down in favor of letting Wanda know that he was okay so far with what was going on.

Not having the same boundaries or feeling of what was taboo or acceptable to human society as most people did, Xenos continued to hold Wanda close, even as he stood with her. Whatever image of impropriety he might be projecting by doing so was utterly lost on him. He did his best to answer Steve and Tony's questions, taking comfort in Wanda's warmth and letting both holding her and her hand ground him.

Instantly, Xenos visibly relaxed when Steve said he hadn't hurt anyone. He was fully capable of doing so, and maybe he wouldn't hesitate much if placed in the wrong situation, but mostly he went out of his way not to harm humans. And even if he was placed in a dire position, he still would try to escape peacefully, and had done so many times over the centuries. They merely seemed curious about the dome, and he understood why. Humans typically did not have such abilities.

"Yes. Many times," he answered Steve. "Defense me-... mecha-nism... for my sp-... species," he explained. "When... th-threatened... or... afraid... we c-create... protec-tive... spaces... for ourselves." Would that make sense to them? He wasn't sure, and so he did his best to explain a bit more. "In... my home... had no body. Made of... p-par... particles. Like... m-mist... or smoke. My kind... understands... how to... m-move... m-mani-pulate... particles. M-... mol-... molecules."

It was so hard for him to remember all these words, but he'd bothered to learn them for his own understanding of human language and in case he ever needed to explain himself. That time was now, it seemed. "When... threatened... my kind... forces out... harmful... or... d-damaging... molecules. People... humans... are molecules too. Easy... to move. Move safely... by k-keeping m-moleules... in same..." He paused, searching for the right word. The fingers on one of his hands fidgeted strangely for a moment as he did so. "Ori-en-tation? Same orien-tation. Create... pro-... protective... space... for myself... and safely... push humans... away. Done... many times... over centuries."

Tony looked at Steve, silently asking if he was believing all of this outlandish stuff. It was like something out of a sci-fi film, what Xenos was describing. "And... what exactly... is your species?" Tony asked, wondering if what Xenos said would square with what Strange had found during his research.

"Sh-shadow... being," Xenos said with a little shrug. He didn't really know what his species was, since it wasn't like they had a name. "W-without... body. In... incor-poreal. Energy... that... has g-gained... sen-... sentience." He realized that made no sense, given that he stood before them in a mostly human-looking body. "This..." he said, letting go of Wanda's hand for a moment to lay his hand over his chest, "belonged... to... a human. Forced on me... by... a sorcerer. To trap. Enslave."

Tony blinked. Well, then. No wonder he hates Strange. "That's um... There's a lot to unpack there," he said, looking between Xenos and Steve. So Strange was right, he thought.

"Tired..." Xenos sighed, sounding a bit out of breath. He lifted his hand to hold his head, feeling a little dizzy. "Speaking... is... d-difficult... for me."

"Why's that?" Tony asked.

"Not... natural. Have to... con-... con-cen-trate... hard," he said, the last word of that trailing off into a whisper. "Weak still... from crea-ting... large... pro-tec-tive space..." In fact, he sat down on the bench again, taking a few deep breaths. "Moment... please," he asked of them, in case they had more questions. Although he was an extremely powerful being, the imbalance between his spiritual essence and his physical body sometimes created obstacles for him that normal humans did not face.

what are you afraid of? (Xenos)

Xenos should never have come this close to this developed of a human city. Even wandering the suburbs of New York City had been a trial for him, with car horns blaring, people yelling, and a sense of too many things moving around him all at once. But once he'd reached deep into the city, he knew he'd made a mistake. There was a stark lack of awareness from the people walking around him. Some bumped into him without warning while others simply seemed to have no spatial awareness whatsoever. There were even more car horns, and more yelling, and Xenos felt his chest tightening from the stress of it all.

Soon, he couldn't breathe, and try as he might to get out of there, it seemed the more he walked, the deeper into the city he embedded himself. "Back!" Xenos shouted to someone who had bumped into him hard, pushing him away with one of his hands.

"Hey man, screw you!" the human said to him as he kept on walking.

He hadn't realized that he'd wandered into a roadway until he was almost hit by a car. It screeched to a halt and Xenos lifted his hands to cover his ears as the sound of the car's horn blared so loudly he thought he would die. "Get away!" he yelled, and it happened. His magic lashed out, creating a dome of isolation around him, encompassing the entire block. Everything went silent, for he'd removed all the humans from within the dome, leaving them outside its invisible border. Inside, he left the animals and insects for they did not bother him, but the cars, trucks and buses were now uninhabited, turned off, still.

The silence was wonderful, and he felt the tension begin to release him. The dome's barrier kept out the sounds of the surrounding city, as well as those of the angry and confused humans who had been moved from their vehicles, or who could no longer pass down the street because of the invisible barrier. While Xenos paced back and forth in the middle of the street, slowly calming himself, people outside the dome where already calling emergency services and police, angry and scared by what had occurred.

The Avengers were called in.

Xenos moved inside a building, where it was dim and peaceful, taking deep breaths as he slowly wandered around. This was better. Much better. He didn't care or even realize the disruption he'd just caused within a major human city.

Outside, people were telling tales of a strange man who had somehow made invisible walls in the city, not fully understanding what all had happened. When the Avengers arrived, they were met with a large block of New York City that looked... empty, uninhabited. Cars left abandoned, doors to buildings left open. It looked like something out of a zombie apocalypse... but where were the zombies?

Steve couldn't punch through the wall. Tony's repulsors couldn't penetrate it either. They couldn't even see what it was they were trying to knock down. But not all members of the team were as hindered by the magical barrier as the rest...

Xenos knew the moment someone had entered the dome, and he twitched with the sensation of his magic being disturbed. Perplexed, for this had never happened before, he walked to the door of the building and peered out. A human was there... but how? No human should be able to defy his magic. None ever had before. He watched her from afar for a bit, until it seemed that she was, either intentionally or inadvertently, headed right for him. Did she know he was there? No, no, she could not. Humans lacked such senses, he knew, especially in this time. The sorcerers of old were all but gone from the world now, or... or at least Xenos hadn't encountered any for a very long time.

Slowly, he stepped out of the building and onto the sidewalk, his body tilting awkwardly to the right as his head did the same, as though he was trying to size her up and see her better. When she spoke to him, he recoiled suddenly from the sound of her voice. He didn't take steps back from her, but rather only leaned back, his head snapping backward a bit as a dog or cat might do if they were startled while curiously trying to get the scent of something. He thought about her words for some time before responding.

"Not afraid," he said, but his voice was barely there. He couldn't remember the last time he'd spoken to anyone to any real capacity, and his voice suffered from a lack of use. He didn't think it was loud enough for communication purposes, so he tried again. "Not... afraid." Xenos put up his hand almost as if he was making a wait a minute motion with it, but moved it up and down, as though pressing some imaginary buzzer in the air, his fingers outstretched. He was merely thinking of the right word, his head turning this way and that like the word might suddenly be floating in the air somewhere he could see. "Overwhelmed," he finally decided upon. "The city is... too much." His hands found his head and he swayed a bit, as thought he was in pain. "So I have expelled it... from this space." He then made a pushing away motion with both his hands, moving them out from his body.

But then Xenos' head tilted again, his face obscured by the draping hood of his long coat. "How...?" he asked, pointing back in the direction she came. "How... did you enter?"

[wrenbird03]

wow i haven’t been active in a while huh? anyways take this art i made just in time for halloween :D

happy halloween tumblr creatures :)

[sysig]

You’re looking a bit different than usual! (Patreon)

[afteas2003]

someone on Pinterest asked me to draw a dc character I know nothing about and it was 4 am so I said fuck it and did a quick sketch. I was tryna play with more dynamic poses and I ACCIDENTALLY TWINKIFIED THIS MANS in like, a COMPLETELY different art style than is normal for me and I just sent it to them in shame guys wtf is this

[wawapiggy]

me when i witness the horrors:

transformations are very very cool :3

also this is for time week on the lu discord server

[gay-victorian-astronomer]

little dolores pencil sketch I did the other day

[mylove-thresher]

falling out of love with a lot of things lately

[kukinkrim]

the prettiest manager goes to..

saja boys x gn!manager!reader

notes: what's up with kpop groups and their pretty managers bro 🤧

the saja boys were gods among men.

literally. more than half of the nation's population practically worshipped the ground they walked on.

which is ironic since this group of boys are anything but angelic.

nonetheless, they were still worshipped. they were practically the nation's golden children next to huntrix. they were loved, not only in south korea, but all across the globe. these five demon boys had the whole nation in a chokehold that no one could quite explain.

it's a no-brainer. attractive men with honeyed voices? of course, everyone's already practically drooling on their feet.

well, that's what abby believes anyway.

"manager-nim, we love you!" he stares in disbelief as he was cast aside, being shoved somewhere in the back as fans rushed towards you who was merely standing in the background.

you, not him.

the fans that used to carry boards with their faces now had yours plastered everywhere with hearts decorating all over it. it's safe to say abby is in shock. he watches from the back as fans swarmed you from left to right, cameras clicking and fans chanting your name over and over again.

"it seems our fans love them," jinu chuckles as he watched you look over at them through a sea of heads, begging for help.

"am i the idol here?" abby blinks, genuinely still baffled at how things turned out. what was supposed to be just a quick move from their apartment to their black van, was now an unexpected meet-and-greet with their beloved fans. except, they weren't fawning over the saja boys.

they were fawning over their manager.

“you were,” mystery replied with a deadpan tone, patting him on the back comfortingly. “but not anymore,” he added, watching the chaos unfold before him. “we've been dethroned.”

“i feel… replaced.” romance sighed dramatically, trying not to laugh when he sees you sending him a look that screamed for help. the entire thinf was rather amusing to watch.

baby squints his eyes when he catches one of the signs that a fan has brought. a picture of your face decorated with glitters with a quote that says, 'MANAGER-NIM PLEASE HAVE MY BABIES' and he physically recoiled in disgust. "are you sure that's not sexual harassment?"

“well,” jinu grinned, clapping to gain the attention of his members. “that’s what we get for having a pretty manager, i suppose.”

durimg the car ride to the studio, who were utterly exhausted. your back hunched in the worst way possible as you drove. “next fan meet,” you muttered. “i’m retiring.”

“too late,” baby said, scrolling through twitter. “you’re trending. again.”

“#managernimsupremacy,” abby read aloud from his phone, pouting. “unbelievable!"

that's how it started; as a joke. it was something that was just amusing to watch. afterall, it wasn't everyday you get to see your beloved manager be awarmed by thousands of fans.

a harmless, chaotic little joke they all laughed about.

at first.

until it became an everyday occurence.

“wow, the fans love you more than us now,” romance teased one day as you stepped back into the van, arms full of fan gifts: hand creams, vitamin packs, an absurd number of plushies, and three more custom water bottles with your name on them in a cursive font.

he takes one of the hand creams from you, a rose-scented one, happy that he got a free product despite being a rich idol who could probably afford to buy more than 10 boxes of each scent.

you merely shrugged. you've gotten used to it at this point. you've learned to be grateful of the gifts you received, even when they are being constantly shoved in your face left and right. "i think they’re just being nice. i take care of you guys for years now, afterall."

"nice?” baby echoed, peeking into the box you placed on the seat beside you. “these creams are imported from france!”

“lucky. and i got a drawing of myself being lovingly thrown into the ocean,” mystery muttered, sulking as he leans against the door of the van.

it was funny at first, really. they’d giggle when fans squealed at your presence. playfully sulk when they caught fans sneaking pictures of you while pretending to wait in their lines. jinu even once asked a fan to move over so he could take a selfie with the poster of you she brought instead of his face.

all jokes. harmless teasing.

“manager-nim, i wrote a song about you. it’s called ‘my only manager.’ can i sing it?” a fan once asked as he skipped throigh the five boys during their fansign, waltzimg straight to you who was waiting at the end of the table. he was clasping his hands together, pleading, that you didn't have the heart to refuse.

besides, happy fans, happy idols, right?

you, being your polite, adorable, very-unaware-of-the-effect-you-had-on-people self, smiled and said, “of course!”

the moment he opened her mouth and serenaded you with tearful sincerity; with a voice that only a mother could love, the atmosphere had already began to shift.

suddenly, abby wasn’t smiling anymore. he was pouting with his hands pressed against his ears. his eyes were glaring at the fan who was still talking to you.

romance forgot what he was supposed to write on the album page and signed I HATE HIM in all caps. the poor fan looked at him in confusion, looking at her album before shrugging.

baby was recoiling in absolute disgust. his mouth opens once in a while, his hand on his microphone. his throat was itching to say something but the hand om his shoulder stopped him from saying anything that could get him cancelled. jinu's hand on his shoulder was firm, his eye twitching and his smile tight.

mystery looks like he's about to lunge out of his chair and bite the vocal chords of this stupid fan and his stupid serenade.

after that day, it wasn’t funny anymore. it became annoying.

fans constantly showered you with gifts and love confessions and marriage proposals—which is something they should be getting used to. they are idols in the industry, afterall. they've gone through it and so much other worse things!

but they really couldn't help but be annoyed whenever you were at the receiving end of their fans' affections.

“do you want people to fall in love with you?” baby asked one night during dinner at a restaurant, stabbing his kimchi a little too violently.

“i—what?” you blinked.

“maybe wear a mask or something,” abby suggested, half-joking. “your face is… too face-y.”

“face-y?”

"it means stop being pretty for once!"

"you guys are being unreasonable."

“we’re done,” jinu said as he placed his chopsticks down. "you're getting demoted to a water staff."

"what?!"

"you only get to show up once during the day and that's to bring us water. no mingling with fans!"

“wait—what? why?!”

“you’ve been working too hard,” he said, but his eyes were definitely glaring. though it didn't seem to be aimed directly at you. not at you, but at something outside the restaurant’s window. you followed his gaze just in time to see two fans holding up a banner that read: MANAGER-NIM, YOU ARE OUR LITERAL SALVATION 💘💘💘

you laughed awkwardly, waving at the two, before sighing. “is this because someone shouted ‘marry me’ at me during soundcheck yesterday?"

“it's because five people shouted it,” abby corrected, “one of them brought a ring.”

“an actual ring,” abby added. “it even had your initials engraved."

“that could’ve been a coincidence,” you tried, but even you, yourself, didn't believe in your own poor excuse.

“it had your face on the box,” baby deadpanned. “your graduation photo. the ugly one.”

“okay wow, rude.” you huffed, glaring at the teal-haired demon who only shrugged.

“don’t dodge the point!” abby snapped. “you do know this is parasocial, right? that kind of fan attachment isn’t healthy!”

You stared at him. “you’re all literal idols. you thrive on parasocial relationships.”

“yes,” baby muttered into his drink, “with us. not with you. that’s the natural order of things.”

“you’re quite literally disrupting the ecosystem,” mystery added, deadpan.

“yes,” romance said, “but not when we’re the ones being ignored! #managernim is now trending higher than our actual comeback teaser.”

there it was.

the real reason.

you slowly leaned back in your seat, crossing your arms. a smile so smug forming on your lips. “ah. so it’s jealousy. you're jealous i stole your fans?”

“what? no—pfft.” jinu waved a hand dismissively, clearly lying. “it’s concern. genuine, heartfelt concern.”

“you’re mad because you tripped over a banner with my face on it.”

“i bled,” abby whimpered dramatically, rubbing his shin.

“you’re demons. you heal.”

“it stung me emotionally.”

romance groaned into his palms. “i literally sang a high note and no one blinked. but the second manager-nim smiles? everyone’s sobbing like they've been enlightened.”

“marry me. manager-nim is my mother and my father and my hope,” mystery quoted, mimicking the fan tweets he read before. “it’s endless.”

“i think it’s sweet,” you said with a small smile, just to poke at them.

five pairs of eyes glared at you in unison.

“no more public appearances,” jinu declared. “effective immediately. you’re on water duty and emotional lock-down.”

"you can’t be serious.”

“we are,” baby said. “and if any fan asks where you are, we’ll say you’re… on a paid vacation. to reconnect with nature. maybe with no wifi.”

“oh my god,” you muttered, hiding a laugh behind your hand. “you’re all actually insane.”

[riddlesrose]

kissin him stupid

w/ the housewardens

in which you were recently gifted a tube of lipstick from grim, you're unsure of where he got it or why he decided it's yours now but it's given you a fantastic idea.

(he probably stole it from vil somehow and wants to place the blame on you..)

note; malleus' is the shortest but the most full of love i swear to goooood but the post itself is quite long

part two!

if riddle could form a proper sentence right now, he might scold you for slacking off, or breaking rule six hundred and seventeen, or he may just ask you to do it again. if colours could speak, his face would scream in comparison to the red accents in the housewarden’s room, uniform and matching hair. 

you attempt to keep a sober expression but he seriously cannot be so flustered by a single kiss? the red lip stain on his cheek is bright against the flush of his cheeks, as he sputters vowels and consonants, attempting to speak, to protest, to ask you what in the queen’s name are you doing.

you invited riddle over to the ramshackle dorm under the guise of needing help with studying, but you had this motive the entire time. riddle could feel your rebel to his help and directions if he ignored the obvious fact you hadn’t even cracked the spine of your book yet (to be fair it was only assigned today, and it was a new book), and the devious smile you attempted to hide until now. 

riddle took a breath, finally feeling sensible enough, “what… was that.” 

“affection, riddle. this isn’t new.” you shot, tone dripping in sarcasm. 

“yes, my rose, i know that. i mean,” he grabs hold of your uniform tie, drawing you closer, “what’s with the lipstick?” your head probably could have exploded, where did this riddle come from and how can he be drawn out more often?

you press a swift kiss to riddle’s other cheek, thanks to the proximity. “i have no explanation,” you press another kiss onto his forehead, “i simply was gifted it,” a kiss to his temple, “this morning.” the grip riddle has on your tie loosens completely as it falls back onto your chest, slightly wrinkled from the force. 

“i just had this ironed!” you frown. 

“i-i’ll get it done again.” riddle stands, brushing invisible dust off his jacket, though nothing could distract from the shade of pink that covers his face. 

“you’ll iron my tie for me? how kind.” you wrap an arm around riddle’s waist, pulling him close. he drops his forehead against your chest with a thud, inaudibly mumbling to himself. 

you wrap your other arm around him as he takes your face between his hands, slightly squishing into your cheeks he drags your face to his height, kissing you feverishly. 

“where did this riddle come from? i like him.” 

“i just felt… bold i suppose.” riddle’s red tinted lips smile against yours.

“do it again!”

leona stirs underneath you. you’re sat, straddling either side of his hips, weight pressed on his defined torso. leona doesn’t know it but you’ve practically trapped him where he sleeps. where he’s asleep currently, that is. in your dorm. 

on your couch.

using your pillows, taking in the setting sun like a true feline, though you would never dare utter the word feline anywhere near him lest you face the wrath of a moody boyfriend. 

you silently laugh to yourself, leaning down and pressing your lips on the prince’s temple.

leona stirs again at that, attempting to roll over – he cracks an eye when you gasp. slowly, coming to his senses, he furrows his brows at your positioning. you weren’t there when he fell asleep, when did you do that, and why are you sitting on him with half of a sinister smile across your lips…

and when did your lips turn red? he brings a hand up to rub his face, trying to shake the sleep out of his fogged mind, but you catch his hand before it makes contant. 

“don’t, it’ll mess up all my hard work,” you say with a half hint of embarrassment. (just a hint; only because you were caught before you could slip away undiscovered.)

leona’s confusion increases, as he detaches your hand from his wrist. he takes his freed hand up to your lips and swipes his thumb across your bottom lip, smudging it further across the line of your lip.

he inspects his red finger, “is this… lipstick?” you purse your lips in an attempt to stifle the laugh that bubbles in your chest. he looks ridiculous; eyes half lidded, nose crunched in focus and red marks painting his face.

your tinted lips curl upwards slightly into a smug grin, “maybe?” if leona knows one thing, it’s smug grins. he matches yours and wipes his thumb on your cheek, smearing the lipstick off his thumb and onto your skin. 

you playfully swat his hand away and lean down to continue painting your masterpiece, placing another kiss on his skin – onto the spot between his eyebrows. leona’s hand find your hip, giving a teasing pinch to the side. 

leona may be a prince used to some pampering, but this is some treatment he could get used to. 

azul has a finger in every pie, as riddle likes to say. you’re very much aware of that as your boyfriend likes to talk your ear off about his investments, new opportunities and the lounge. you’re so very proud of all of his hard work but sometimes he gets off on a tangent that doesn’t stop until you make him. usually with a kiss. it flusters him just enough that he forgets what he was going on about and it works every time. 

this time, however, was a bit different. azul didn’t take notice of the hue change of your lips as you leaned in and shut him up. drawing back, you snicker at his pursed lips and flushed cheeks, and the red lipstick smeared around his lips.

azul peeked in your direction, curious. you usually find it funny when he’s flustered like this but you were laughing a little too much. he noticed the messy red lipstick and furrowed his brows, wiping a finger across his lips. 

you suppressed a smile as you watched him curiously examine his stained finger, “it’s lipstick.” he concludes. 

“well… obviously? i thought that would have been pretty clear,” you grab his hand, wiping the red off of his finger. 

before azul can retort you lean in to kiss him again; anywhere you can get your lips on before he shells himself away, utterly embarrassed. a kiss to his cheek, jaw, forehead, nose, other cheek, forehead again, has him sputtering, almost begging to be released. 

azul places his free hand on your shoulder, trying to push you away while laughing between breaths. when you do back up, leaning back on your hand, he almost looks sad. (as if he wasn’t actively trying to get you off!) 

“so, mister ashengrotto? feeling loved and appreciated yet?” you give him a toothy grin, watching as his face contorts from flustered to even-more-flustered. (if that’s possible.)

“well yes! i dare say i’m feeling very valued and cherished as well.” despite his rosy features, his voice is unwavering, full of conviction. 

his confident, put-together outer layer completely melts away when you’re alone with him, but this has him absolutely on fire, a feeling no number could replace. numbers can’t give affection, you give it tenfold in their stead. 

kalim’s permanent grin widens when you claim you’ve got a gift for him. he expectantly holds out his hands, making you shake your head. 

“it’s more of an eyes closed kind of gift,” you start, kalim instantly squeezes his eyes shut. he puts so much trust in you that you worry jamil has eyes everywhere. everywhere. but you brush the jesting idea away, believing that you wouldn’t even be allowed on scarabia grounds if jamil didn’t trust you with the housewarden. 

you turn to a nearby mirror, passing the tube of red lipstick over your lips. the smooth makeup applies nice and neatly. (doesn’t matter because you know it won’t be neat for long.)

you step back over to where kalim’s sitting on the edge of his bed, standing between his knees. he’s waiting not-so patiently, he looks like he’s almost vibrating, is he really that excited? you suppress a smile as you gently grab onto his jaw, tilting his head to the side as you press your lips to his cheek. his laughter immediately fills the room, making you press more kisses over his face. one to his forehead, one on the nose, another on the other cheek, his temples, and anywhere you can get before he’s laughing too much, pushing you away.

“it tickles,” he heaves a breath, “stop!” a wider smile grows on his face after seeing yours, the red lipstick you applied had smudged around your lips, looking not-so neat. his face isn’t much better, tan skin littered in red kisses.

while you’re mentally retaining the image of kalim covered in red lip marks, you notice him looking more intently at you. you raise a brow, curiously.

“my turn, give it here!” he reaches a hand out, expecting the tube of lipstick?

you look at him bewildered, “what?” 

“my turn!” he repeats. he seems real set on returning the ‘gift’ it seems. kalim’s all smiles as you hand him the black tube. he exposes the stick and passes it over his own lips, tossing it aside and pulling you down to his seated height. he flattens his lips across the expanse of your face, getting at any skin he can just like you did to him. 

when he deems he’s finished, you’re dazed and equally covered in red lipstick stains, smiles wide across your faces. matching stained faces for matching blitheringly infatuated idiots.

vil leans on the back of his vanity chair; his face littered in different coloured lip marks. the reason? he claims he wants to see which ones compliment him the most. 

you know he already knows exactly which shades of each brand line do exactly that. (thanks, rook.) vil doesn’t know that you know he’s already figured this out. 

you wipe the makeup remover-soaked cotton pad across your lips, ridding it of the pink. “what would all of your fans think if they knew you were being covered completely in rainbow kisses?” you wipe the moisture from your lips as vil reaches around you to grab another tube, but you stop him. 

“i’m sure they would lose their minds,” you reach into your pocket, revealing a miscellaneous tube of lipstick, it matches none of the previously discarded lipsticks, nor does it have a brand logo on it. “where did you find this?” vil takes the lipstick in his hand, nimbly examining the exterior. he removes the top to reveal a rich, velvety red colour. his eyes widen just slightly. 

“it’s a secret,” you wink and take the lipstick from him and apply it, smiling as you replace its cap and let it fall from your hand, onto a messy vanity behind you. 

vil wraps an arm around your neck, drawing you closer to his seated level, “well, share your secret with me, if you would be so kind.” you swiftly close the gap between yourself and the housewarden, administering a healthy dose of red onto his lips and the surrounding skin. 

he parts first, his cheeks dawn a hint of pink that’s hidden behind the various stains on his otherwise perfect skin. he truly is the most beautiful person ever. makeup or not, hair tied back or loose, vil is sincerely as pretty as the morning's first light, a flower; freshly bloomed, and a fresh set of nails. 

“you’re staring. not that i mind,” you snap out of your hazy daydream about your gorgeous boyfriend and back into reality. 

“yeah, sorry. you’re just really fucking pretty.” you lean down and tenderly kiss his forehead as he internally squeals like one of his fan-girls. he really hit the jackpot with you as his (second) biggest fan.

idia looks up at you with wide yellow eyes, but they have a sort of gloss over them that makes you believe he would not want you to get up and leave his dorm right now. you grin at his feeble attempt of a silent, inconclusive plea. an ask to what, you’re unsure because his face (minus the eyes) and hands grabbing at you tell you he’s very much enjoying you straddling his hips right now.

you reach into your pocket, revealing your master plan. a tube of lipstick, you swipe it over your lips once, then twice before replacing the cap and tossing it down, letting it hit the plush bedsheet you’re atop. 

the translucent tips of his hair start to turn pink as you lean down towards his face. a trembling hand comes up to your shoulder, not pushing you away but seemingly grounding the housewarden underneath you. “how cute,” you smile against his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth, then another to his left cheek, then the right. one more on his forehead for good measure. maybe one more. okay, one last one couldn’t hurt.

you sit upright and drag a hand down idia’s chest, over the sweater you know is probably two sizes to large for him, (but that’s how he likes them you suppose and it just makes for a more comfortable sweater when you steal ‘em) while admiring the definitely not smudge-proof lipstick marks on idia’s face, giggling as you compare the red smears to his blue features. you wonder if-

the rapid rise and fall of idia’s chest catches your attention, it almost sounds like he’s hyperventilating, but when you look up to his face it’s surrounded by fiery pink hair and a flush across his cheeks, spanning down his neck, you realize he’s fine. probably a little more than fine. 

“well, that’s some false advertising,” you smile, wiping at the edges of your lips lightly with a finger. idia snaps out of his stupor, hastily agreeing with a stuttered breath. his hands find your hips, giving you a small squeeze. you lean down and press a proper kiss to his lips, you lift away just as quick as you bent down, pushing idia back down as he chases you up, hoping for more. a pitiful whine escapes him as his hair burns brighter. 

the red lipstick mixes with his natural blue lips gives him a sort of purple that would put the octavinelle’s house colour to shame. though, he almost looks forlorn. the usual solemn and gloomy housewarden; reduced to a blushing mess after a few kisses. 

hilarious, isn’t it?

malleus’s eyes flutter shut, a pleased sigh escapes his lips. his hands, hidden by your sweater, trace messy patterns on your back as his nails scratch lightly. he’s unsure of how he got himself into this humanoid predicament but he’s not complaining. 

you’re sat in his lap, placing kisses all over his face, leaving red lip marks behind. 

“you look like you’re enjoying this more than i am, malleus.” you bring a hand up to rake it through his bangs, pushing them behind his horns and revealing the shiny scales hidden beneath. 

the housewarden cracks a sharp emerald eye, examining your features. the slope of your nose, the curve of your stained lips, your eyelashes, cheeks. your eyes. oh how he loves your eyes, the way they look up to him with adoration, not fear or indifference like other humans do. 

you cup his cheek, “malleus?” 

he blinks once, twice. the gloss over his eyes breaks, refocusing on you. “i apologize, i was lost in thought.” 

“i could tell,” you trace your finger to the tip of his ear, then drop your hand back into your lap. “what were you thinking of? me?” 

“yes.” 

“woah, okay. blunt!” heat rises to your face. 

a hand leaves your back, trailing around your side and up to tuck a piece of hair away from your eyes. “was i not suppose to tell the truth?” 

“no, malleus, you should have said you were thinking of pancakes.” 

“but i wasn’t? i was thinking of-” you cut him off, placing a kiss on his lips. 

“now, let me resume my art.”

malleus is more than happy to sit as still as the gargoyle statues he studies while you press kisses all over his face. he is, truly is.

this was so self indulgent i ain’t even sorry (is my favouritism showing??)

masterlist