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#flawed mangoes
daisievalentine · 18 days
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“your too full of life to be someone’s maybe.”
“How quickly we forget our values in the rush.”
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musicwithoutborders · 14 days
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Flawed Mangoes, Melody From A Dream I Killswitch Melodies, 2023
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wastedunicorn · 4 months
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aistoqe · 8 months
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live laugh love flawed mangoes
flawed mangoes just casually creating the most beautiful, heavenly, soul-transforming, life-changing, awe-inspiring, scenario-inducing, majestic riffs ever known to man:
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thetaizuru · 3 months
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(Flawed Mangoes)
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los extraño mucho
la verdad estoy cansada de seguir extrañando aquellos momentos que compartí con personas que ya ni siquiera me voltean a ver. Quiero regresar al pasado a simplemente volver a vivirlos y disfrutarlos una vez más.
Me siento tan sola y tan patética por extrañar recuerdos, pero simplemente no puedo dejar de hacerlo.
Que daría por volver a esos días en donde todos compartíamos chistes rancios y carcajadas genuinas.
¿Ellos me extrañan como yo lo hago todos los días? ¿por qué dejaron de invitarme a los eventos en donde antes lo hacían? ¿hice algo mal? ¿es que ya no me quieren?
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kenpachijordan · 2 months
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centaur-dreaming · 4 months
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Y’all I couldn’t remember Flawed Mangoes’ name n I fuckin called him Wet Melon.
Wet. Melon.
Whet Melon.
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mangosaurus · 6 months
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one thing that's. erm. not crazy to me, but i guess. a little odd? a missed opportunity of sorts. is the framing of the "people are having nightmares?" scene. and i know that has a lot to do with the actual subject of the nightmares being dinosaurs, but ... darius is no stranger to nightmares. before yasmina, darius is actually the first person we see struggle to grapple with the trauma that's been inflicted on him during his time on nublar, going as far back as s2e01. and when darius wakes up from his nightmare, yasmina just so happens to be the person who's there to comfort and look after him. so it's just. weird, to me, that this plotline doesn't get brought up once when yasmina's PTSD emerges, especially since darius's guilt over ben is such a major driving force behind so many of the actions darius takes in seasons 2 and 3. that guilt may have been resolved by the end of s3, but that doesn't mean an incident like this one couldn't reinspire old pains for darius's character. what i'm trying to say here is that in trying to position darius as the noble, well-intended but ultimately somewhat flawed leader of the group, the writers neglected to acknowledge darius's own damage, which inadvertently robs him of a lot of the dimensionality this moment should offer his character, but ultimately fails to deliver on. and to be clear: i am NOT saying that darius's choice to prioritize the dinos was bad writing, but what i AM saying is that the way the writers dealt with the emotional consequences of his actions just felt kind of ... weak, to me. that's all.
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trianglekisser · 9 months
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you ever hear a song and you just
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jeevasphere · 2 days
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if death note had been made in 2023 this would be the thinking montage song I just know it
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blurrymango · 4 months
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Me: "Oh yeah now I'm a pessimist for reals TBH. Everything sucks and it will only get worse. Humanity is evil and the earth would be better off without them."
Also me: "Humanity is full of evil, yes, but also full of good. Look look at people caring for and loving their animals and look at art and music and literature and scientific achievements."
Ffuck man just look at space and realize that the seemingly infinite beauty and wonder is so much more than we could handle. In the grand scheme of things sure humanity doesn't matter but the fact that we exist means we matter. The universe goes on without us but I have a cat and a dog who love me and I like to draw so.
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riddlcr · 2 years
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it’s ok to be mediocre.  it’s ok to be mediocre. it’s ok to be mediocre. it’s ok to be mediocre. it’s ok to be mediocre. it’s ok to be mediocre.
you don’t have to create the best piece of work anyone has seen.  you don’t have to create the most thought provoking piece of work anyone has seen. you don’t have to create the most stylized piece of work anyone has seen.
just start. you have to start.
you just have to start.
make something.
take pride that its yours.
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mango-dolphin · 2 years
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realized that there are currently other active shield hero fans on tumblr w/some decent/great takes but also :( i might be a little too unhinged to engage w/the ecosystem i guess. also unfortunately i like motoyasu
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lovelytsunoda · 8 months
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glad I crashed the wedding // oscar piastri
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summary: she needed a wedding date. he wanted a reason to spend time with her. but of course, the inn only has one bed, and oscar makes her feel alive in a way she's never felt before.
pairing: oscar piastri x female! reader
warnings: sexual tension, one bed trope, difficult sister relationship (though they love each other very very much), eventual smut, fake dating (I’ve been reading too much Ana Huang lately)
“so let me get this straight,” she began, swirling the coconut-mango-pineapple icy drink in her hand, leaning back against the photocopier. “you, the great oscar piastri, wants to come home with me to be my date for my sisters wedding, and you don’t want anything in return?”
oscar nodded, a wide grin on his face as the copy machine continued to churn out waivers for the hot lap guests to sign. “that’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“but why?”
oscar shrugged, trying to come up with a convincing lie. “because I’m your friend. and this is what friends do.”
y/n sighed, sipping her drink before turning away from the driver. keeping eye contact was dangerous when it was with oscar piastri. when it was with the man who set her nerve endings on fire, who made her stomach churn like the rising tide with a gesture as small as a wave, or an offer to buy her a drink.
who had an accent that made her core throb, soaking her panties right through when she thought about how his voice would sound in her ear if he was whispering some less-than-holy things to her.
“I don’t want to subject you to the insanity. you might not want to be friends after you meet my family. we can’t even be in the same room sometimes, it’s like dropping a match onto a pile of dry leaves.”
oscar laughed and she tried to ignore the shivers the sound sent up her spine, the rising goose flesh on her arms as she counted the waivers, having to start the count over again more than a few times.
“I’m sure they’re not that bad.” oscar reasoned, taking the file folder from her, insisting on lightening her load. “I just want you to feel at ease.”
she rolled her eyes, grabbing her drink as she started to walk out of the motorhome. “I’ve been living in delias shadow since I was fourteen. she’s a well respected medical professional; and I went to a three year college. everything she does is perfect. hell, she’s getting married this weekend and here I am, convincing myself that letting you tag along is a good idea so I don’t look like I’m going to die alone.”
it’s not like she wasn’t successful. she was a part of the legal team for one one of the biggest racing names in the world. when Oscar’s contract dispute started, she had been the one who served otmar his papers (and to this day, saying the words “otmar szafanuer you have been served, see you in court” was still one of the finest moments of her career).
it’s just that delia always brought out the worst in her, every insecurity, every flaw she hated about herself. their childhood has been fraught with insecurity and competition.
she sighed, leaning against one of the paddocks scratchy palm trees, bark digging into the skin on her arms. oscar was still trying to plead his case, and she wondered why she was fighting it.
this is what she wanted, wasn’t it? oscar on her arm, making her feel like she was wanted, loved, even?
she took another sip of her drink before she spoke again.
“we’ll probably have to share a hotel room, and my dad might threaten you with his antique saw collection. you’ll also have to stop me from killing delia with my bare hands before the big day.”
oscar chuckled, handing back her file folder. “I think I can handle that.”
that goddamn smile. that’s where it all started, when she first started to think about his lips on hers, his hands in her hair, his mouth wrapped around her nipples.
why on earth was she agreeing to this?
“you’d better be up bright and early tomorrow. it’s a long flight and my dad is meeting us at the airport. as far as everyone knows, I’m not bringing a date.”
the feeling of his hand against the small of her back burned into her skin. she could feel his body heat through the thick fabric of her papaya golf shirt as he started guiding her towards the garage where the hot laps were being conducted.
“oscar, what are you doing?”
he grinned at her, baring his pearl-white teeth, in their slightly uneven top row. “if we’re going to convince your dad that we’re together, we’d better start practicing.”
god, this man was going to be the death of her.
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she regretted inviting oscar along the second they got off the plane.
from the moment they passed through airport security, it was as if a switch had been flicked in her brain, converting him from the serious, driven race car driver she met at the track, to a man straight out of the romance book she had been listening to on the flight. his hand was rooted to her back protectively, and he wouldn't let her carry any of her luggage on her own.
she could get used to this, she thought, watching his t-shirt ride up over his defined abs as he reached into the overhead cabin to pull down her two small suitcases.
they walked peacefully through the terminal, oscar pushing the baggage cart with one hand, his free arm looped over her shoulder.
"you know you don't have to act like my boyfriend until we see my father, right?" she said hesitantly, running a thumb over his knuckles. "my feelings won't get hurt if you don't want to pretend when nobody else is around.
oscar acted like he was about to say something, but he was cut off by a shout across the airport.
"y/n!" the voice shouted. "there's my girl!"
"dad!" she shouted, breaking away from oscar's side to launch herself into her father's arms. the constant travel that came with working in formula one took it's toll, and she didn't get to see her father as often as she liked. she'd had to move to england to work with mclaren, and her family had stayed behind.
she never said she loved that part of her job, but a little space away from her family often made her appreciate them a little more.
"dad, i want you to meet someone." she started, waving at oscar, who lumbered over with the weighed-down baggage cart. "this is my boyfriend, oscar." despite the lie, and how foreign the words were, saying them almost felt right.
my boyfriend oscar.
"i'm carl, nice to meet you." her father said, his voice a slight bit more gentle than his usual grunt.
oscar shook carl's hand, a bit of weariness on his face as he slipped his smooth, dainty hand inside carl's larger, more calloused one. "nice to meet you, sir."
carl raised an eyebrow. "australian? you'd better not be giving my daughter any of those australian kisses."
"dad, what the hell!?" she whined, hiding her face behind her hands as a blush began to coat her cheeks. if there was one thing she definitely was not getting from oscar piastri, it was australian kisses.
oscar thought she was cute when she was flustered. it was such a shame it took him an hot minute to figure out why.
australian kisses are like french kisses, just down under. it was mark who had said it to him first, in an attempt to be funny. as the meaning set in for oscar, he found himself silently cursing mark webber.
but it didn't mean he didn't get half-hard thinking about having his head between y/n's thighs.
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"you've got to be shitting me."
she knew they would be sharing a bedroom. all of the plus ones were rooming in the chic, trendy motel with the guests who had invited them. and that would have been fine.
except that this hotel only had a queen bed, done up with plush white sheets and a small turquoise blanket draped over the bottom half.
a queen bed that she would have to share with a man that she wished would fuck her brains out.
"i can call the main office if you want." oscar suggested softly, reaching for the door handle. "i can see if they have another room, or they could bring a cot in for me?"
she sighed, raking her hair over her head as she looked around the room. "don't bother. the motel only has fifteen rooms, and it's booked solid for delia's wedding, between her bridal party and the fiancée's family, i doubt they'd even really have a cot. we can manage, right?"
oscar nodded, hands buried deep in his sweatpant pockets. damn those gray sweats.
"we can make a towel barrier, and the bed is more than big enough for both of us. hell, we could probably have a threesome on that bed and still have space."
did oscar piastri not have a single drop of shame?
she shook her head, trying to forget the thought of a half-naked oscar hovering over her, whispering things in her ear. she made a grab for her suitcase placing it on the bed and grabbing a handful of clothes and a travel bath and body works bottle.
"i'm going for a shower, can we talk about this afterwards? i'm jet lagged and i really just want to sleep."
"sure." oscar shrugged, spreading hismelf out on the bed, arms over his head so that his shirt once again showed off his stunning lower torso.
she tried to stop herself from staring at the happy trail dipping under oscar's waistband, but she failed miserably, her eyes following the small trail of hair down to the waistband of his jack and jones boxers, to the impressive lump underneath his jeans.
if his cock was that big when it was soft, how would it feel when it was hard, throbbing and inside of her. just the mere thought was making heat grow between her legs-
nope. we're not going there today.
she squeaked out some kind of muffled statement, clutching her clothes to her chest and making a mad dash towards the bathroom door. a cold shower should fix this, right?
when oscar heard the shower turn on, the music clicking on soon after, he sat up on the bed, rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes. he knew he should shower as well, but the fatigue of air travel was beginning to set in. a small nap wouldn't hurt, right?
he got up from the bed, socked feet sliding against the laminate floor as he reached for the wheels on the bottom of y/n's suitcase. all he needed to do was close the suitcase, move it out of the way, close his eyes, and then drift of into a peaceful slumber.
all he had to do was hope that he didn't wake up hard, or moan her name in his sleep. it should be easy, right?
wrong. the suitcase slipped out of his grip, almost sliding off the bed before he thanked god for his reflexes, stopping the suitcase from hitting the floor, save for a few articles of clothing.
he leaned down picking up the black busted tour shirt and denim shorts, his breath catching in his throat when he saw what was resting on the area rug underneath.
it was a mass of bright peach lace, the color so close to the mclaren signature papaya, his heart hammering in his chest as he picked it up and unraveled the halter bralette. he bit back a moan as he stared at the lace and mesh that left very little to the imagination.
he started to think about his mild-mannered co-worker wearing it, her perky nipples pressing against the bright, skimpy fabric.
the mere thought sent all the blood rushing straight to his cock.
god, he was down so bad that it should be criminal.
he shouldn’t be thinking about whispering dirty sweet nothings against her skin, or sucking a hickey into her thigh before he plunges his tongue inside of her.
he shouldn’t be thinking about anything that would make his boner worse.
and that was when he heard the bathroom door open. and there wasn’t enough time to hide the sweat seeping from the pores on his skin, the tent in his sweatpants, or the fact that he was still holding the offending lingerie in his hands.
“it’s not what it looks like!” the driver sputters, turning around to face her, and bitting his lip to stop himself from losing whatever composure he has left.
she’s wearing booty shorts that barely cover her backside, the ass emblazoned with the acronym for the college she attended, her top half covered with a loose-fitting muscle tank sporting a skeleton on a surfboard, the sides of her bare tits just barely visible through the arm holes.
“oscar,” she breathed, voice raspy when she saw the tent pitched in his pants. “do i turn you on?”
“you have since the day I met you.” he admits, dropping the bra and slowly moving closer, hesitantly running his hands down her still-warm sides. “tell me, y/n, do you touch yourself when you think about me?”
“i could ask you the same.” she shot back, her voice wavering as she pressed her hand shakily against oscars clothed cock. “your boyfriend act didn’t feel like an act this morning.”
they shouldn’t be doing this. it was crossing so many lines. but when oscar looked her dead in the eyes and breathed out a single word, all thoughts of self control went out the window.
"yes."
she pressed her lips against his, nipples springing to attention as she pressed her front against his, his hands moving from her sides to squeeze and caress her breasts, her mouth falling open in a moan against his lips. oscar took that chance to slip his tongue inside her mouth, his hands migrating to her hair as he maneuvered their bodies towards the bed.
she took the lead once her back hit the mattress, practically ripping her tank top off and casting it aside, hands making a mad grab for oscar's plain white shirt while he kissed and marked up her neck.
she whimpered under his touch, and would have been embarrassed had she not been so turned on.
"oscar, please." she begged, spreading her thighs as she tried to grind her core against his thigh. "i need you. i need your cock so deep inside me that i can still feel it three days later."
oscar practically growled at the admission, pulling his lips off her right tit. "are you begging for me, pretty girl? do you want me to make you feel good? hm, want me to treat you right?"
"yes." she breathed, tucking a hand underneath his boxers. "please, oscar."
god, his name sounded so sexy rolling off her tongue. he couldn't think straight when she had her slender fingers wrapped around his cock.
"are you sure you want this? because once i have you, i won't let you go. i'll need more."
"i'm sure, oscar. and i'm not just saying that because i think your mild possessiveness is kind of hot."
oscar smiled, a small, imperceptible blush forming on his cheeks. "you think i'm hot."
"since the day i met you." she hummed, sewing her lips to his, her fingers tugging on his hair, a small moan leaving his throat.
"oh, so pretty boy likes it when i tug on his hair." she giggled. "i learn something new every day."
"keep talking like that, and you won't be able to walk in the morning."
"i look forward to it."
oscar looked around, his eyes settling on the mirror hanging opposite the bed, right next to the bathroom door. he felt his dick throb as an idea formed in his head, pulling away from the body lying prone on the bed.
"shorts off, all-fours on the bed facing that mirror." he ordered, trying to keep a gentle tone in his voice as he clambered off the bed, stripping out of his sweatpants and boxers, hard member jutting straight out as her touched himself, trying to find some kind of release from the pressure between his legs.
she shivered at the command before making a show of dropping her shorts to show off the cream coloured cotton thong she was wearing, laughing to herself when oscar's eyes rolled back in his skull, a moan escaping his throat.
"god, you're going to be the death of me, sweetheart."
she couldn't deny the excitement in her bones as she settled herself on the bed, arousal literally dripping down her thighs when she looked in the mirror and saw oscar looking at her, mounting the bed behind her before slapping his cock against her ass.
in a more tender, loving action, oscar leaned over her, pressing a kiss to the top of her spine.
"you're so pretty." he whispered, the compliment sinking into her skin like tattoo ink before he sunk into her, gripping her hips and closing his eyes to try and show some restraint as she got used to his size.
it was a sinful picture in that motel room mirror as he began to rut into her, watching her tits shake in the mirror, listening to her sweet whimpers and whines and pleads for more.
"god, yes, oscar! feels so-so fucking good, oh my god."
he met her eyes in the mirror, sweat running down his chest and dripping onto her back as he kept thrusting, the same relentless pace. "you're so good for me, pretty girl. so stunning, so sexy with my cock inside you like this. god, you're prefect. perfectly mine."
he practically growled the last word, knowing damn well that he was ruined for any other woman.
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they woke up in a tangled heap of limbs, not knowing where one body ended and the other began, lazily exchanging kisses as the sun rose outside.
"oscar, we have to go to the rehearsal." she whined as he kissed her neck. "if we're late, i'm never going to hear the end of it."
"don't care." oscar hums, running his hands up and down her sides. "i would gladly stay in bed with you all day and order room service so we don't ever have to leave."
"osc." she warned, sitting up in the bed and pulling the duvet over her chest. "we're going to the rehearsal. i'm a bridesmaid, remember?"
fifteen minutes later, oscar was in the bathroom steam-cleaning the wrinkles out of his suit while she tried on the bridesmaid dress, caramel fabric falling over her skin as she stared at herself in the mirror.
the same mirror where, just twelve hours before, she had watched oscar piastri fuck her brains out.
she felt heat on her hips, and didn't even need to look up to realize that it was oscars hands, gently caressing her skin through the satin. he gently kissed her shoulder blades, his hands moving to do up the zipper she couldn't quite reach.
"you look beautiful." he hummed, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. "you deserve better than me."
she giggled softly, tugging his arms away from her hips and around her waist, sinking back into his arms. "no i don't. you're exactly what i want, oscar. you're funny and you're sweet and you make me feel like the best version of myself. you're also really great in bed."
oscar laughed, kissing her softly. he would never get tired of feeling her lips against his. "the boyfriend stuff was never an act. and i volunteered to come with you this weekend because i wanted to get to know you off the track. who you are when you aren't serving legal papers to team principals."
"i only did that once. i missed out on the chance to fight with chip ganassi since arrow has a different legal team." she laughed. "i really like you, oscar."
"and i really like you too, y/n. my perfect, beautiful girl."
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the wedding came and went, marking the end of y/n and oscar's dream weekend, the reminder that very soon, they would all be going back to their real lives.
that she and oscar would need to figure out where they stood with each other.
but she didn't want to think about that. not while she was dancing with her sister, the pair of them finally getting along as they screeched the words to an old tove lo song.
oscar watched from the table, sitting next to y/n's mother and making polite conversation as his lovesick eyes found her under the disco lights.
"someone is feeling lovesick tonight." mrs. y/l/n hummed. "we heard you two last night. the motel walls aren't as thick as you think."
oscar blanched, coughing on his drink. "you heard all that?"
y/n's mom laughed. "her father had to leave the room and get a coffee before he walked in there and strangled you. y/n is always going to be his little girl. but she's growing up, and i think if she has you in her life, she'll be okay. you're good together."
oscar was about to say something else when a shout rang through the room. "delia is doing the bouquet toss!"
all of the members of each wedding party gathered in the middle of the floor, y/n's sister standing on the dj stand, her white dress brushing against the floor and picking up specs of dust and dirt, as she lifted the bouquet over her head.
y/n mother rested her hand on oscar's forearm, staring at him with a knowing look, hoping her other daughter would be the next to tie the knot.
sure enough, it was almost like fate as the boquet of white roses soared into the air, nailing y/n right in the face and tumbling into her arms as the other bridesmaids cheered. her face was pink and she was trying to hide behind the bouqet as delia came to pull her into a hug.
"i love you, sis. and i'm sorry i didn't know how to show it when we were younger." delia gushed, kissing her baby sister on the forehead before nodding her head at oscar. "you've got a good one. don't let him get away."
"i won't." she laughed, wiping at the tears threatening to fall down her cheeks. "i love you, deels."
the song changed, a slow kesha ballad humming through the speakers as the singer crooned about her old flame, and how they couldn't hold a candle to her current love. she turned away from her sister, who had just gone to find her new spouse to dance with, only to see oscar, looking dapper in his black suit and bowtie.
"can i have this dance, my love?"
she smiled, leaving her bouquet with her mother before stepping into oscar's arms, wishing for nothing more than to wrap herself around him like a woolen sweater. she rested her head against his chest, allowing herself to fall into him while they swayed to the music, his lips pressing a kiss to her forehead as dolly parton began to sing the second half of the song.
man, she could really get used to this.
get used to oscar.
TAGS:
@magnummagnussen @httpiastri @sidcrosbyspuck @scuderiamh @silverstonesainz @lorarri @love4lando @thatsdemko @diorleclerc
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