#(like in the video where he was like no i literally never doubted for a second i would make the majors 😂😭)
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headbandsandflats · 1 year ago
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no YOU couldn’t sleep so you stayed up all night working and watching videos of harrison bader interviews
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adalindofcabinsix · 5 months ago
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that kind of love never dies | chapter one
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summary: the one where barbara thinks about an act of rebellion.
pairing: jake x mc
word count: 1.3K
warnings: tkolnd takes place after the events of episode 10; cover images found on pinterest; english is not my first language.
author’s note: even though she lives in the usa, my main character, barbara, is brazilian. i added terms and expressions that we use in our country, as well as cultural elements, to this fanfic. the words that appear in portuguese are highlighted and you can contact me if you have any questions.
masterlist
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Barbara was sprawled out on the dorm carpet, reading a Lucy Maud Montgomery novel she found by chance in the university library, when her cell phone began vibrating on the nightstand. Without wasting time, she closed the book and got up, waiting to hear from her roommate, Meera, but, when Barbara swiped her finger across the lock screen, she found some text messages from an unknown number.
i would like to invite you again to eat something at that chinese restaurant
if you want to meet me, just show up there tomorrow
i'll be waiting for you :)
Her head started to throb just at the possibility of it being who she was imagining, but she quickly pushed the thought away.
Jake wouldn't put himself in danger like that.
After everything that happened in Grimrock, Duskwood's chief of police, Alan Bloomgate, personally went after her to conduct the interrogation, and, more than once, made it very clear that it was best for her to stay away from her new friends for a while. He didn't go into detail when he told her about what happened at the Ironsplinter Mine, but he confirmed that Richy was alive — despite having some serious injuries — and that Jake had fled from the FBI agents during the confusion caused by the explosion.
All the messages she sent and received during that time became evidence. Barbara had what it took to close Hannah Donfort's case literally in the palm of her hand, including the kidnapper's confession.
Consequently, she also had the means that could lead the people who were after Jake straight to him.
She was interrogated by the FBI countless times for months, until Alan decided to intervene and convinced her to hand over her cell phone to them in exchange for her old life. Since then, Barbara has not been part of the joint investigation. Or at least that's what they say — she's too smart to really believe that.
For a few seconds, she considered the chance that it was someone trying to play a trick on her. The video Lilly Donfort posted accusing her of kidnapping had gone viral across the Columbia University campus. Even her grandmother, who lived in the interior of Brazil, found out about her involvement with a hacker wanted by the North American government. However, no one else knew about the brief conversation they had about the chinese restaurant.
Except, of course, the FBI.
Without a doubt, it was a trap. Barbara felt her face turn red. It seemed that solving an old international murder case, giving up her privacy, being forced to abandon her group of friends and possibly cheating on the guy she was in love with was not enough. She also needed to act as bait when it was convenient.
Barbara huffed, irritated. Little did they know that Jake had no contact. Their partnership in crime had ended almost a year ago.
Still, there was no reason to decline the invitation. She could very well take advantage of the opportunity to tell some truths to those nosy agents, and as a bonus she would have an excuse to go to Germany without Alan being able to question her too openly.
Her lips lifted into a smile as the plan emerged in her mind.
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After going through customs at Zurich Airport, picking up luggage and going to an exchange office to exchange some notes, only an hour and fifteen minutes by car separated Barbara from Duskwood. Luckily, there were several yellow taxis forming a line next to the sidewalk, because it would be a nightmare to have to deal with someone trying to compete for the same vehicle as her.
She walked out of the lounge, pulling her hot pink rolling suitcase, and turned on her smartphone to announce on the family's group chat that she had arrived safely. But before she could check her contact list to see if her parents were online, she collided with a young man's broad chest.
She jumped away from him, apologizing — or at least trying to — in german. He laughed softly, grabbing her arm to stop her from tripping over herself, and for a moment, Barbara forgot to even breathe. The young man seemed to be a few years older than her, he was tall, had dark hair and prominent round eyes that resembled the curve of a teardrop, he was wearing a white sweatshirt with a hood and black jeans.
“I'm sorry, I didn't see you.” He spoke in english, with a slight accent.
“No problem, it was my fault.” Barbara quickly straightened up, realizing that she had somehow stared too long.
The young man analyzed her from head to toe with amusement before bending down and picking up the cell phone that had flown out of her hand during the impact.
“I believe this is yours.” He joked, handing the device to her.
“Thank you.”
He nodded curtly and turned, making his way through the travelers entering and exiting the airport, as silent as a wraith.
She was inexplicably disappointed to see him leave, however she had more important things to deal with. Then, she handed the luggage to the driver to put in the trunk and got into the taxi, giving the address of the Gates Hotel, on the outskirts of Duskwood.
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Barbara ran across the room, feeling the cold floor beneath her feet. She was considerably late, but as far as she remembered, she had never arrived on time to participate in the interrogations, so whoever was waiting for her at the restaurant wouldn't mind too much. She put on a black strapless dress, put on her highest heels and curled her wet hair with her fingers, leaving a small trail of water on the floor.
Through an opening in the peach curtains, she noticed that the rain had picked up outside, beating violently against the window pane. She cursed under her breath, hoping someone at the front desk could lend her an umbrella, and before Barbara could procrastinate her meeting with the FBI Special Agent any further, she took one last look at the floor mirror near the entrance hall, realizing that she was dressed for revenge.
“Someone would definitely approve of that.”
Smiling to herself, she went down a small flight of stairs to the ground floor, where the girl at the reception was reading a magazine with Nicholas Galitzine's photo on the cover.
“How can I help you?” She asked in english, without taking her eyes off the celebrity gossip.
“Hey, how you doin'? Could you lend me an umbrella, please?”
“Of course.” She said, reaching for the object under the counter and handing it to her. “A fee of two euros will be added to your room bill.” Barbara sighed, surprised, as she mentally converted the currency. “What?” The receptionist looked up, frowning. “Did you think it would be free?”
“No, obviously not.” Barbara lied, smiling politely.
“Return it by midnight or I will have to charge the full value of the item.” The girl announced, turning her attention to the magazine. Then she added: “Nice dress.”
“Okay, I'll pay when I check out.” She assured, walking towards the glass doors while opening her rented umbrella. “And thank you.”
“Have fun, Cinderella!”
Barbara regretted walking out the door as soon as she set foot on the sidewalk. Not just because of the rain, but because of the wind blowing your hair back. In any case, she had come too far to give up, and despite the storm, she could see the lights of the chinese restaurant through the blue haze a few meters ahead, on the other side of the street.
Before she could take another step, someone grabbed her arm and turned her around.
“What?” She blinked in amazement at the handsome young man she had met at the airport.
“Come with me.” He said, pulling her away from the hotel entrance.
“You are crazy? I do not know you!” Barbara shouted, dropping the umbrella near her feet. The rain completely drenched them both in moments. “Me solta!”
“Barbara, please.” He asked, breathing short.
The sadness in his voice stopped her struggling.
“How do you…?” She gasped, eyes wide. “Jake?”
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taglist: @daniiiworlds; @labemquarts; @deinily
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flippinpancakes64 · 3 months ago
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Hey, i love ur works. I was wondering if i could request the Cullens with a reader who’s really good with children and is also a kindergarten/elementary school teacher. Thank u💞 Hope you have a nice day
The Cullens with a Reader who’s good with Kids
I apologize ahead of time for any inaccuracies here. There are no children around me and I do not go seek them out either. Me and kids do not mix…
Anyways thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!
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Edward:
We don’t really know how he feels about kids before the birth of Renesmee
I mean obviously he loves her, but we don’t know if that’s because he loves kids or just because she’s his daughter
Either way I feel like he would be good with them
He would love to come help you with your students anytime you want him to
He loves setting up little games for them to play and reading to them
And he loves how good you are with kids
It just makes him go crazy
And then he gets stuck in that spot of wanting a kid with you. It not wanting to put you through what Bella went through
But that’s a whole different topic
He does have a moment of self doubt
He thinks you should be with someone who is alive and who could give you kids (if you want them)
Not someone who’s dead and could only hurt you
But he does get over himself
Eventually
Until then he helps you in your classes
All of your students love him btw
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Alice:
You know those videos on tiktok of elementary school teachers going all out decorating their classrooms?
Alice is making you do that whether you want to or not
She’s buying all of the streamers, decorations, and posters she can find
She has so much fun with it
And she LOVES to dress you up in colorful outfits
If you’re a man or a woman or anything in between it doesn’t matter
Cause you are gonna wear this rainbow sweater no matter what
And I have a feeling she’s really good with kids too
She’s never had a really strong desire to have any, but she loves to hang out with them when they’re around
She helps out in your classroom as much as she can
And if that help is just making sure your streamers are up to fire code… who’s keeping track anyway
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Jasper:
This man is scared of kids
There was one time where he was just walking through a park with Alice and a kid tripped and scraped his knee
He almost went ballistic
Kids are so unpredictable and such a danger to themselves and other kids
Way too prone to bleeding for him to be comfortable
So he’s always on edge around them
Not to mention he’s always awkward
He doesn’t know what to talk about
He was in your room once and a kid was trying to play with him and he just… sat there
Bro is lost
Tried talking about the weather to one of your kids once too
It’s best to keep him away
He’s more than willing to help decorate your room though
And grade tests if you’re getting a bit swamped
It’s just in everyone’s best interest if he’s only in your classroom after hours
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Rosalie:
Do I even need to elaborate
She is THE woman for the job
We all know she loves kids, and if what we saw of her with Renesmee proves anything, she’s great with them too
So this is literally the perfect arrangement
She loves kids
She’s not able to be around kids often
You show up
You are literally an elementary school teacher
Perfect match
She comes over literally every time that she can
And since there’s nothing technically holding her back, that’s pretty often
She poses as your student teacher in order to be there all the time
Really, she’s great with them
And she loves it
And the fact that you love kids and are great with them too instantly puts you at #1 on her list
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Emmett:
I feel like he’s also great with kids
They love him
I mean, when you’re a kid, what’s better than the guy who can swing you around
Very few things tbh
The boys in your class especially love him
They love arm wrestling or racing him
He lets them win of course
He mostly shows up at your classroom around recess
But hey at least he gets all of their energy out before they need to sit down more
He’s also not someone who dreams about having kids
But if you want them, then he’s all for it
As long as you’re either willing to adopt or willing to go through what Bella went through
But as for him, he’s okay with the little guys you have running around your classroom
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Esme:
Another mother at heart
She loves kids
I mean, she’s dedicated her entire vampire life to being an adoptive mother to about 7 immortal kids
So she is more than willing to help you with anything you want
Your kids absolutely love her too
They always get excited when Mrs Esme comes to visit
She is the best at storytelling
She has their entire attention for as long as she spends talking
And she loves helping you decorate your room too
Of course, she also loves that you’re so good with kids
As someone who once had a child and now has so many “children,” it’s important to her that her partner loves kids
Any time you need help, she is there
And she is so excited to decorate your classroom
She brings in candy and food for every single holiday party
Your kids don’t need to provide a single thing
That might be why they all love her actually
Jk jk
She’s just so sweet how could you not
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Carlisle:
He is also a guy who’s great with kids
I mean, when you’re one of the only doctors in a small town you kinda have to be good with all kinds of people
Kids love him too
He doesn’t even really need to try
He’s just sort of unbothered by whatever kids want to do to him
So if a kid wants to climb onto his back and pull his hair and sit on his head then he won’t stop them
It’s not like it hurts or anything, he’ll live
Obviously though, he can’t be at your classroom all of the time
Actually, he can’t even be there every once in a while
The clinic is pretty demanding
So he mostly just helps at home
The amount of times when he has graded your kids’ papers or printed off new worksheets for them while you were asleep is countless
He just tries to support you where he can
And of course his money is your money
You want to throw a birthday party for one of your students? Here’s his debit card, go crazy
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Vampire! Bella:
She’s a reluctant person with kids
I mean, obviously she loves Renesmee, but aside from her, she’s never been good at dealing with kids
She’s just awkward around them
Sort of the same vibe as Jasper
Doesn’t know what to say to them
She was in your classroom and one of the kids was talking to her
So she just started talking about politics?
Even the kid was confused
But the problem is that kids love her
You don’t really know why, neither does she
But something about her just draws kids to her
She prefers to just help you out at home
But she gets frustrated too quick with the little kid writing
“What the hell is this supposed to say? I’m just gonna mark it wrong”
“Bella you can’t just do that-“
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the-moon-files · 2 months ago
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I’m not sure if I’ve said this one already or not, but I wanted to tell you anyways! It’s about the humans-are-not-hylians AU!
You know the uncanny valley evolution? That thing where when you look at something that resembles a living being too closely and some part of your mind is screaming that it’s not whatever it looks like and to get away from it? Imagine that with the reader! They can spot shapeshifters easily because of this, but it instills the same extreme primal fear we’d experience, so it might be hard for the reader to confront them at first and they’ll instead just tell the Chain for a while.
This might be a double edged sword, though, because when Twilight is in his wolf form, the reader still gets that same feeling when “Wolfie” is looking at them, whether or not they know it’s Twilight. In this case, the first time the reader spots Wolfie approaching the camp, they probably freak out and try to avoid him, even if the Links are okay with him or if he seems familiar to them.
The bottom line is that wolf isn’t a wolf, so what is he?
“It’s okay, he’s a really friendly wolf!”
“...That’s not a wolf...”
Sorry i took forever to respond!! im slow as always, life is too busy for even my hobbies lately sobs 😭
bro this is especially true bc someone looked back at TP games and how he looks in his “wolf” form, and apparently he is actually a dog lol - like at most a wolf-hybrid, i added this in to support this Hyrule-is-hella-Uncanny AU lol
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Moon: Guide! - Gender Neutral/Masc!Reader (”you”/he/him)
Orbit: Short headcanons
Stars: mentions of most of our Links <3
Comets & Meteors: CWs: typical LU/Loz violence, mild swearing, etc & TWs: mild possible derealization trigger, talk of Link’s Awakening and Koholint.
Please comment if I missed any. /gen
The Yiga clan members have never fooled you, not Once in person, unlike back when hyrule was still a video game
it was the constant smell of bananas, the way their eyes were always a little unfocused or they moved their head to move around their eyes, rather than their actual pupils moving, the facial muscles all stiff, usually stuck in an uncomfortable smile-
it makes more sense once u realize that they technically have a mask under that glamour hylian face, but its never not hilarious to see Wild look over his shoulder at you before approaching a lone traveler on the roads and watch him get increasingly frantic to get ur attention to see if theyre yiga lmao
u bet ur ass every link was relying on you on their adventures to know shapeshifters/illusions/glamours/etc. on sight and tell them to better prep them/warn them
tbh they all got at least a little better at being able to tell the difference the longer they heard you point out stuff/talk abt exactly why it was off-putting
(that said some of ur heroes are better at it than others, both in general, and certain aspects of it: like Twilight isn’t able to pick up illusions/glamours for the life of him, literally, sometimes, but he is more likely to figure out shapeshifters by scent after you Guided him)
(no, your heart didnt crack a little after learning that the boys had a harder time with deceit after you stopped playing the game = “were forced to leave after their adventure” bc while they were better at detecting it, they werent on ur human level yet..)
(…the only deception you ever really fell for was Koholint. It was so painful too, because Legend quietly disclosed to you one late night that you would constantly get strange feelings/uncanny disturbances, but were never able to put a name to it for him, which both made you jumpy/paranoid on the island, but made him regret ever letting his guard down all the more or feel guilty for what felt like dismissing ur instincts the more he relaxed… Legend never doubted your sense for the uncanny ever again. He takes it seriously every time now.
When you feel as if you should apologize, he tells u not to, that these days he takes comfort in it actually, it makes him feel safer. Legend looks to your face for confirmation that something isn’t a dream, and if you look at ease, so is he.)
its the way you casually laugh at Twi being called “Wolfie” when he’s obviously a wolf-dog hybrid or just a big dog
and when everyones confused u just explain smth smth, wolf heads are larger in comparison to their body, their legs are narrow, their paws are big, dogs are like the oppposite, or way more proportional like “Wolfie” is, dogs bob around when they run like “wolfie”, and have shorter legs,
smth smth wolves cant have eye colors like blue, only dogs/wolf-dog hybrids can silly-
and Wolfie is just like, 😐 😑 😐
turning around and walking away, bc hylias knotted fucking braid- he really cant escape the dog accusations now, you literally used ur freaky truth-seeing instinct and read his shapeshifter ass from head to literal toe/paw-
Wild/Hyrule look fascinated, Wind and Legend cant breath theyre laughing so hard, Time is coughing suspiciously into his fist and pops back up smirking, Four is laughing but also encouraging you to keep going, Sky is desperately trying to keep it together while also trying to get Twi to come back lmao, Wars is literally pointing and laughing ashkljdl-
ok but Twi gets his revenge later by tricking you into yapping abt how Hyrule/Four/Time all kind of look “off” sometimes too
like how u swear Rulie is glowing subtly when the moon is full, or how the world distorts behind his back sometimes,
or how Four’s eyes change colors all the time, his fighting style looks like its rotating between 4 diff ppl’s techniques,
or how Time’s face wrinkles like smile lines/crows feet at the corner of his eyes will randomly appear and disappear, how he’ll have some stubble one day then 3 days later despite having not shaven (u literally saw him wake up and do his morning routine) it’ll disappear like it was never there in the first place-
and when Twi has stopped asking you abt the others as they all reel over the knowledge of what all u can tell abt them,
(ur quietly relieved no one asked abt Wild.
You resolve urself to just lie if anyone asks, even to Wild himself.)
hey im alive!! im slow yknow how it is,
ive been doing too much, and i cant wait to be done with this class so i can have free time guilt free again 🥲
god thats one good thing abt getting out of academia i dont miss and would only wish on my worst enemy,
the anxiety of doing smth, even necessary stuff like eating/sleeping/showering, and feeling liek you should be doing homework instead, god its so awful
cant wait to feel like an adult with my own life again lmao
that certification better work and get me a white collar job goddamit 🤞
anyway, hope ur all having a good weekend,
and just to let u know, im so happy acc that im alive to see the first zelda game that actually follows what i originally thought the plot of zelda games was when i was a kid lmao
(zelda as the protag, saving link!!)
Peace out,
🌙
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wlfchnlv3r · 5 days ago
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Intro
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Bimbo!Fem reader x Stray kids!boyfriend
Y/n
- You are literally just a girl🎀
- You probably are the weird artist of the college, the one who always wear tiny pink skirts and bows in the hair.
- Everyone see you just as a cute face with big tits and a nice body. Everyone expect your boyfriend.
- You are just a little bit dumb and naive (ok, maybe more than a bit) but your boyfriend loves you just the way you are.
Bangchan
- Bangchan is your boyfriend since middle school and he always thanks your parents for “giving him the most gorgeous doll in the world” or something like this.
- He knows every inch of your body, I’m dead serious; you have a little scar on your inner tight? He knows it, and loves it.
- Chan is such a perv and does nothing to hide it, he would be searching for you all over the college just to squeeze your ass before an exam, because he says it is his lucky charm.
- If you don’t find him, well, he is probably at the gym with his best friend, Changbin.
- He is…big, just big, and has some kind of size kink, he would love to stretch you out just for him.
Changbin
- You and Changbin met at college, during a party, you were trying to find someone to drive you home and your friend introduced him to you.
- He loves your Sanrio obsession and he would let you cover all of him of hello kitty stickers, and when i say “all of him” i mean ALL of him :).
- Changbin always fucks you dumb in the morning, giving you the best belly bulge of your life, for real.
- You are so freaking small compared to him, but you like the size difference.
- He is a gym rat, he also exercises at home, using you as (what he calls) a light weight. (every exercise session would probably finish with you being fucked till).
Seungmin
- Seungmin is just a puppy, you guys met in the college bathroom, after some girls made you cry calling you dumb, he comforted you and gave you a warm hug.
- He worship your ass, is slightly obsessed with it, and loves when you wear those tiny skirts that would make easy for him to touch you everywhere.
- Everyone doubt about your relationship because he seems like a mean bad guy… the truth? He’s the most lovesick persone you ever met.
- Seungmin would pass hours with you scrolling through puppy’s accounts on instagram.
Hyunjin
- You and Hyunjin were in the same art class on high school, and he was in mental competition with you, just because of your artistic skills (you will never know that).
- He is also a photographer, and loves to take pictures of you naked or also video tape of you two fucking. Those clips reveal a more kinky side of him.
- For Hyunjin after care is NOT an option, after fucking you dumb he would clean you up and change the sheets, to make sure you can lay and rest in a comfortable bed.
- He loves spoiling you with gifts, he knows you so well so it’s easy for him to choice the present (Ps: it would be Sanrio related).
Felix
- Felix was your tutor a few years ago, then he starts to have feelings for you, until a “innocent date” where you two shared an ice cream and when I say shared ice cream… I mean that he ended up licking it from your tits.
- He is able to put you in place if he wants, just…it doesn’t happen often.
- You love to tease Felix when he is busy, knowing that he would probably let you suck his cock or something like that.
- Felix is slightly obsessed with you, I mean- he introduced you, as his girlfriend, to his parents, month before you actually start to reciprocate his feelings.
Lee know
- Lee know was well known for being heartless, that was until you showed up during the first year of college. He literally tried to not be drawn to you but he drastically failed when your strange and innocent personality kicked in. He felt the need to protect you.
- He loves you, with all his heart but he knows you are a little slow when you have to understand something, and because of that he he makes fun of you (in the nicest way possible).
- You two argue a lot because of his jealousy, and every time you finish on your knees sucking his dick like a good girl, while he grabs your hair and pull you closer.
- he loves also his privacy when it comes to his relationship with you, Lee know would probably treats you coldly in public just to nuzzle his face in your neck when nobody see him.
Han
- You and Han are childhood friends, you two grow up together and he is the only one who really knows how to put you in place when you act like a spoiled brat.
- He loves to call you with pet names, especially during sex, and he expects you to be an obedient little pet and let him do whatever he wants with your holes.
- Han is the one who took your virginity and he is so proud of it, he knows is the only one who can fuck you and make your legs shake from the pleasure.
- The word jealousy is not in his vocabulary, he is so confident and knows he is the one for you.
Jeongin
- Jeongin is a few years younger than you, but he knows how to behave. He definitely does. He is famous with older girl, but he only has eyes for you, he always says it was love at first sight
- he loves to claim you everywhere and everytime he wants as in the college bathroom or during a friends reunion.
- He kinda introduced you to the use of sex toys, but he has some rules: 1) he is the only one who can use them on you, 2) you are not allowed to bring yourself pleasure using them and in general you can’t masturbate, if not in front of him.
- He is the only one who can make you reach another level of pleasure, making you cry and beg for more like a little spoiled girl.
Taglist: @felixleftchickennugget @kiwininja35 @sweetpickledjins @slmnheart @elqivxstxr @catffeinexo-xx @multistancheck @justwonder113 @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @hello-stranger24 @raptorbait529 @cocofia143 @minniesverse
(Comment to be added to the tag list🎐)
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monarchberrysblog · 2 months ago
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✓ el perdedor.
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ till death do us part
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miguel o’hara x fem! reader ✓
summary: Here's to the fools who dream.
content warning: bittersweet content, a “what-if” is questioned
word count: >1.0k words
author’s note: augh, the last fic I wrote was a major flop 😭 (tbh, I was expecting it because I wrote it as a joke, but some people didn't get the notice 😭) but here you go, something new and not weird 😭
♡ NOT PROOFREAD!! ♡
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The knots in his stomach continued intertwining into a heap, and he could not find where they started or ended. It was enough to make him throw up. The sensation didn't make him anxious; rather, the events unfolding before him terrified him. Time slipped through his fingers like silky hair in between his fingers.
The FaceTime call was fresh in his mind. He could even recall the events he did beforehand.
It was out of nowhere, quiet literally.
He lay in bed alone, the right side empty, hoping for someone to use that side one day. But for now, the unused pillows would be his companions. The low vibrations of the mobile device buzzed obnoxiously loud, with your picture flashing on the screen.
He taps on the green button with squinted eyes. The light from the device aches his eyes as he adjusts to the dark contrast. The video call loads and the sight on his screen sink into the pits of his stomach—a shining diamond ring. “What is this?” It’s the only question that escapes his mouth. “Oh my God, Miguel! I'm engaged! He asked me!” The obnoxious, cheery tone filled the space.
Your cheery tone contrasted the sense of dread in Miguel’s gut. He never knew that your now-fiance had the nerve to pop the big question. But seeing the glistening diamond before him answered all of his doubts. “Oh wow, that’s crazy…” He mindlessly mumbles and rubs his eyes, the strain aching. His mind plagued him as you continued to ramble on and on about the date before your partner asked the question. It was too soon to happen, way too soon.
“But you better RSVP for the wedding!” He snaps awake from his clouded mind and mindlessly nods. “Yeah, of course.” He mumbles, combing back his messy, wavy hair. The call abruptly ends, and the silence weighs down on Miguel’s shoulders.
What if he pursued you like his gut told him to? Or what if he decided to homewreck the happy relationship?
He shakes his head at the idea and could never see himself getting in that sticky situation, with the high possibility of breaking your friendship and trust you had in him.
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The bride reveal. This is a new tradition Miguel didn't want to be a part of but decided to play along because you really wanted him to partake in it.
Miguel is greeted by the sight of you in a lavish wedding dress. He turns around to see you smiling and bouncing on the balls of your feet. “What do you think?” you gleam, showing the ecstatic energy coursing through your veins. “You look amazing.”
More words wanted to pour into a waterfall full of exemplary words, but then words would barely get a sliver to describe your glowing features. “Really?” You pry before you squeal in excitement. “This day feels so surreal.” You beam.
He forces a chuckle before his hands adjust the veil. “I bet it does.” He pushes the words out of his lips. He sighs softly and covers your pretty face with the veil, adjusting the dainty fabric. “There we go…” He mumbles. He playfully flicks the tip of your nose, earning him an exclaim from you. A question escapes past his lips while placing a gentle finger on your nose to soothe the slight sting.
“Are you having cold feet?”
In his selfish yearning, he wanted you to say yes, to run away together, get married in Vegas, and elope. But your shaking your head confirmed that the yearning will never happen—not in this lifetime. He nods and pats your head. “Make him happy, okay?” He exhales.
You nod eagerly before you are called over to your father’s side, ready to walk down the aisle.
He looks on, seeing you hurry along to attend the service you were going to celebrate with your soon-to-be husband. You glance over your shoulder once more, giving him a smile. He returns the smile, hiding the sliver of pain in his glistening eyes.
The midnight blue sky paints the horizon as Miguel stumbles back into his penthouse. The bed left unmade, except the right side, covered in unwanted pillows.
The night ends with the right side of his bed staying cold as you become his sister-in-law by the end of the service and wedding venue that only served weak champagne that could barely muffle out the aching pain in his chest.
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lemonlover1110 · 1 year ago
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𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝
Toji Fushiguro
[Chapter 8] Megumi's Baseball Game
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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader
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You’re more tired than you’d like to be. A week passes and Megumi’s baseball games approaches, and you’re thinking of skipping out on it. It’s not like he’ll miss you a lot. Staying home sounds tempting, but then you think about how going to his game gives you an excuse to go out to eat. And even if he won’t miss you, he’ll appreciate having you there. 
After much pondering, you decide to call Toji. You’ll be going to the same place after all, you don’t want to take public transportation nor do you want to spend extra money on a taxi. The phone doesn’t ring twice before he picks up.
“Hello?” He answers, and regret begins to consume you as you hear his voice. Do you really want to see Toji? Sit in the car with him for that long? You stay silent for a moment, and Toji repeats himself.
“Hi, Toji.” You respond, and you debate on hanging up right away. A butt dial? Would he buy that?
“Hi, baby. Is everything okay? Is there something wrong?” He asks, doubting that you’d willingly call him. Every second passes slowly as he waits for your answer.
“I’m going to Megumi’s game… Can you pick me up?” You ask, and Toji doesn’t waste a moment to answer.
“Yes. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” Which takes you by surprise since you thought the game was a bit later. You hang up and go to your room to change into something that’s not your pajamas– But something comfortable nonetheless. 
You won’t put effort into your look, you shouldn’t. You’re just going to watch Megumi play a baseball game, and you’ll be with your ex-husband. You shouldn’t put any effort into your look, but you do. You wear just a tad bit of makeup and put on a cute outfit. You definitely put in a bit of effort even if you didn’t consciously intend to.
Toji knocks on your door earlier than the time he had given you, and luckily you finish getting ready right at that moment. You open the door for him, and he looks more relaxed than usual, wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and a long sleeve black compression shirt. It’s much different than his usual business wear.
“Are you ready to go?” Toji asks, and you nod your head in response. You know he won’t comment on how pretty you look, on how the shade of pink really goes well with your skin tone, on how you’re literally glowing– Toji has never been the type to really praise your looks.
You walk to his car and get in, where a silent car ride begins. You think about speaking first, but you bite your tongue. You’ll feel like when you were married, constantly trying to start a one-sided conversation that’ll lead nowhere. If he wants to talk, he needs to start the conversation himself.
“So um… Is your morning sickness getting better?” Toji clears his throat, deciding to use his voice. There’s no point for all the silence, it eats him alive, yet, he doesn’t want to put on any music. He wants to hear your voice because he rarely hears it anymore. He wishes he had videos of you talking so he could hear your voice when he feels like it’s faded in his short memory.
“Not really.” You answer. Of all topics that he could bring up, that’s certainly the last one that you want to talk about. Instead of leaving him with the dry response, you change the topic to something else in your pregnancy that’s been bugging you. “I’ve been having some really weird cravings lately.”
“Like what?” He asks.
“Last night I wanted bacon drizzled in caramel… And it still sounds so good right now.” You share, and he scrunches his nose up, slightly disgusted. That doesn’t sound too appetizing. Yet he still says,
“Whenever you want something, call me and I’ll try to see what I can do.” Which surprises you. You weren’t expecting him to say that, and it brings a small smile to your lips. You know why he says it, why he’s suddenly part of a man that you wish you would’ve had as your husband. But you still smile, feeling a flake of happiness in you.
“The laundry detergent was also smelling so good–” You begin, but he cuts you off.
“If you want to drink laundry detergent, do it after you have the baby.” He says, which makes you chuckle. You feel as he slowly grows accustomed to the idea of your pregnancy, how he slowly grows excited at the thought of becoming a father again. It makes you happier than you’d like. You were set on having your baby on your own, raising them alone, yet you feel happy when Toji becomes happy about his baby. 
You get to the parking lot of the baseball field, and you find that the game has already started. You follow Toji to take a seat, and you sit quietly amongst a group of rowdy parents and teenagers– It’s a high school baseball game (not even varsity at that), it can’t be that serious. But you do feel the excitement when Megumi goes up to pitch, and you’re smiling ear to ear as you watch him. You do cheer him on, but you aren’t as loud as the rest. It encourages Toji to do the same, but he doesn’t do much, he just whistles.
“I hope I’m not too late.” You’re startled by Toji’s friend, Shiu, as he approaches where you sit. He takes a seat behind you, and just by catching a glimpse of his face, you’re pissed off. Sure, Shiu was very helpful when he helped you move, but you’re still pissed that he left you with Toji of all people. 
Toji greets his buddy while you ignore him. You don’t want to talk to Shiu, and you don’t have to either. No one will force you to talk to Shiu.
“I don’t think Megumi noticed you were missing.” Toji comments, turning his attention back to the game. Shiu smacks the back of Toji’s head, and Toji rolls his eyes. It’s their usual banter, of course you won’t pay much attention to them. Toji throws his arm over your shoulder, and brings you into his embrace, which you don’t fight. 
“It’s weird to find you here.” Shiu speaks up. You’re not together anymore… He understands why you’re here, you have your own bond with Megumi that’s separate from your relationship with Toji, but why is he throwing his arm over you and why aren’t you pushing him away? You don’t answer though, you clearly don’t want to talk to him.
“I forgot to tell you, Shiu. We’re having a baby.” Toji announces, and Shiu’s eyes go wide. He wasn’t expecting that. He was expecting a lot of stuff but certainly not that. Many questions come into his head, but it’s best for him to stay quiet. But he has to ask one question that’ll eat him up alive if he doesn’t–
“Are you two back together?” He asks, and you get Toji’s arm off your shoulder.
“No. We’re not back together.” You answer, and Toji glares at Shiu. Shiu bites his tongue, knowing that this isn’t the time or place to ask all the questions that flood his mind. What the hell are you going to do?
You watch the rest of the game in silence. When it’s done, you and Toji approach Megumi. He’s with his friends so it’s awkward. When he finally turns his attention to you, he leans in for a hug which you’re reluctant to return since he’s all sweaty. But you still hug him. 
“You had a great game, Megumi. You did such a great job.” You praise him, and he smiles at you.
“How are you doing? I haven’t heard from you much, just what dad has to say… But I don’t trust him all that much.” He says, a chuckle leaving your lips at his comment.
“I’ve been doing good, Megumi. But I want to know how you’re doing? How’s school?” You begin to chat with him, and Toji listens in. He taps his foot on the ground, his patience slowly running out. Sure, it’s nice to see that you two have a bond and whatnot but it’s boring for him to just stand idle.
“How about we go out for food and you two can chat there? Shiu is also waiting for us.” Toji cuts off the conversation, doubting that he can stand still for another minute.
“I actually have plans to go out to eat with my friends.” Megumi says, and Toji frowns as he crosses his arms.
“With whose permission?” Toji responds. You usually don’t get involved when similar issues happen, you did once and Toji reminded you that you weren’t Megumi’s parent. But today is different, mainly because Toji is trying to earn your forgiveness, and you use it to your advantage.
“You can go, Megumi. Have fun.” Your arm intertwines with Toji’s, and you give him doe eyes as you look up at him. “Give him some money, Toji.”
Toji huffs as he reaches for his wallet. He gives Megumi some money, and you say your goodbyes before walking away. You know you shouldn’t have stepped in, but Toji won’t scold you for it, especially when your arms are intertwined. You let go of him after a couple of steps since your work with helping Megumi is done.
Your stomach growls, and it’s loud and clear, making your face grow warm of embarrassment. You still smile and say, “Let’s go out to eat.”
“Is that why you sent Megumi off? So we could eat alone?” Toji asks, and it fuels his ego. You have a smirk on your face when you tell him,
“What about Shiu? Are you just going to leave him all alone?”
“To hell with him.” He scoffs. “He’s a grown man, I didn’t even invite him here. I’m not paying for his food.”
“You can convince him to pay yours. Use the fact that you’re having a baby, guilt trip him.” You give him some useful advice, especially since you don’t want to be all alone with him. You don’t trust yourself a lot, especially not lately. Not because you’ve forgiven him and want to get back with him, but because you’re hormonal and don’t trust your body to not make a sudden move.
“You’re right… Let’s do that.” Toji says, his hand going up in the air and waving at Shiu before he calls out, “Hey, Shiu! Let’s go out to eat!”
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moonshynecybin · 5 months ago
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i thinkkkkk this one is gonna be part of something larger but here's the first part of a fic (2.8k so far) where the first chapter is literally just rosquez having a conversation in an airport set around jerez 2024… i also wanted to add some good ole marquez brother goof arounds:
“Look, if you’re just gonna make fun of me—”
“No, please! I wanna hear the rest of this,” Alex says, leaning into Marc’s space and raising his eyebrows, goofy. It makes Marc let out a big laugh— full and loud. He stretches against the plastic of the airport gate seating, the movement pulling at overtired muscles. It feels like they’ve been here forever.
It’s been a long journey back to Spain— storm delays and rerouting stranding them in the airport for hours. They’re still here waiting for a connecting flight, puttering away next to their gate and shooting the shit. It’s been a good weekend —a podium for him— but he’s tired, and ready to be home.
“No no no no, I’m done.” He settles into his seat, pushing Alex’s face away from him. Alex cackles, and Marc points at him. “But you should do that professionally!”
Alex pulls one of his mild, exasperated faces, and it makes Marc smile wider. They’re probably being too loud. Marc doesn’t care.
“You know,” Alex points out, dragging out the last syllable of know so it sounds like knowwwww, “You are the world’s absolute worst loser.” 
Marc shrugs. “It’s a good thing, too— in our line of work you have to be.” He’s unrepentant. It’s how he’s built.
He ignores the face that Alex is surely making and leans down to rummage through his carry on, looking for headphones. For sure, if he has to lose to anyone, he’d prefer it was Alex. With him, the nagging bite of loss usually manages to morph into something lighter, more fun, just because he knows Alex won’t ever blame him for how he gets, how involved he can be in winning. That doesn’t mean he enjoys losing—he’ll never enjoy that—but it takes it back to being a game. None of the anticipation of a sour aftermath that he’s faced in the past, the wait for the other foot to drop, and the play to slide towards resentment without him noticing.
“I doubt losing at a video game will help you gain a competitive edge on the track,” Alex asserts dryly, turning his attention back to his phone and tapping open the Kindle app. He’s been obsessed with those fantasy novels, lately. “You can’t win at everything.”
“Trust me, I know,” Marc laughs, rubbing at his arm. He needs to call his PT. Whatever. “But! I don’t think that first thing is true.” Banishing the thought from his head, he leans over to poke Alex in the arm. Alex swats at his hand, not looking up from his book, and Marc pokes him again, harder this time. “I have a winner mentality.”
“You have a loser mentality. You just lost.” Alex is staring at what Marc thinks is the table of contents.
“Semantics.” Another poke.
Alex looks up, incredulous. Victory. 
“You were cheating! And you still lost!” 
“But you don’t have any proof of that.”
And Alex shakes his head like he can’t believe him, laughs again. “You are insufferable.”
Marc grins and Alex sighs, scrubs a hand over his head.
“I’m going to go grab some water. Maybe eventually they’ll let us board this fucking plane. You want anything?”
Marc shakes his head.
“No, I’m good.” He ate earlier. He opens his phone back up, thumbs over his home screen. Nothing looks exciting. He hasn't been on instagram so much lately– avoiding comments.
He sighs and contemplates opening his dating app. He doesn’t.
Nothing’s felt— he’s busy. 
It’s always been too much— too complicated with his schedule, with travel, timezones, turning over battles in his head. Braking maneuvers and tire pressure edging out any relationship before it got off the ground properly. Lately, since his arm, and since Alex had told him to go find someone— it’s been nagging more.
But no one gets it. Not like he does. And he’s just never found someone that felt like they were worth all of the effort it would take, keeping a relationship together in a life like his, bending himself around racing. There’s been flashes, some false starts, but nothing has ever–
He hears a distracted chuckle behind his back, a light sound, happy, and it hooks him, hard. A sucker punch. He glances over, his previous train of thought abandoned.
It’s— 
He's heard that laugh before. 
They haven’t seen each other— properly, actually exchanging words— since last year. The end of the season. They were both in the bathroom at the Lights Out Gala. Marc in a tux, Vale in a flannel. Marc had held the door for Vale as he had left. 
Vale, once he’d registered his presence, had thrown him a thin lipped, restrained smile, and thanked him. Asked him vaguely about his surgery. Moved on.
And now he’s on the phone, a few feet away, and he probably hasn’t even seen Marc yet. Instead, he’s chattering lowly, head slightly tilted as he drags a thumb over the handle of his suitcase.
Marc has to wonder if stuff like this happens to other people.
Alex hasn’t left yet, but is about to. He's noticed, of course he noticed, and he tugs on Marc’s sleeve, voice low. “You need me to stay?”
Marc shrugs, shakes his head. He's been around Vale before, after everything, in close quarters even. It's fine. 
He's had a lot of practice.
Those last few years, before Vale retired, after Argentina—after Sepang, really, though he maybe hadn’t processed it yet— he worked on it a lot. On taking Vale off of the pedestal, making him more of a person. On realizing he was always going to have a different relationship to Vale than Vale would to him.
He works hard at that distance, enforcing it, maintaining it. Tending to it.
And he had gotten somewhere better, once he had realized that. Had stopped trying to say hi to him every time he saw him. Vale is his hero, and he knows by know that that’s never going to change completely. The precise way his presence lights Marc up, makes him giddy, the disbelieving undercurrent that Valentino Rossi knows his name— but he also has come to terms with the fact that it's never going to be like he imagined when he was twenty, and he thought maybe he could matter as much to Vale as he did to Marc.
He knows that.
But it was an adjustment. It took some time. It’s better now. He's used to it.
Now, he can sit at an airport gate with him and ignore him.
He’s probably been staring at his phone screen a little too hard. 
“Allora— so, how have you been?” A voice asks, simply, closer to his ear than it should be. Of course.
He puts the emphasis on you, the full force of him narrowed on the word. Marc stays very, forcibly still. Projects calm.
Vale’s across from him, now, got there without him noticing. His legs are spread out wide in the seat across from Marc, hat pulled low and posture easy. His face is neutral— pleasant. Marc knows that means absolutely nothing.
Vale’s gaze charts over him, carefully, taking him in. Marc swallows, steels his jaw.
Vale has always had a way of observing. Leveraging that beam of attention. He doesn’t miss a thing, never has, and he looks good— tired, but relaxed, thin frame bundled up in a hoodie, hat pulled low over his forehead. Incognito mode, Marc remembers him joking sometime in 2013, after they had snuck out of the paddock to grab a drink at a bar post media day. But you always dress like that, Marc had said, probably too confidently, and Vale had laughed, had leant in and said Well, if I want them to recognize me, I just wear the Yamaha shirt.
Marc blinks. Vale’s eyebrows are raised, expectantly. He’s been quiet too long.
“Why?” He asks pleasantly. No use pretending.
“How have you been?” Vale asks, evenly, continuing as if Marc didn’t talk. “It has been a few months, yes? Since we’ve seen each other? The gala?” He looks away, shrugging. “I wondered about your arm– it seems better.”
“You could have texted.” Marc says, furrowing his brow. He's being overly serious, he knows, but he’s curious. He didn’t expect Vale to text, knew he wouldn’t actually. It still, despite it all, prickled at him. Whenever he was injured, before, Vale would always ask. He hadn't, anytime in the last four years, despite the severity of the injury.
So why is he asking now.
Vale huffs a laugh, swipes a thumb over his phone case, waves it lazily. “My number, it ah, leaked.” He makes a face. “I had to get a new phone a while ago. I don't think your contact made it over.”
It’s better than him deleting it. Better than Marc expected, to be honest.
It could also be a lie.
“Oh. Well.” Marc, says, unsure how to continue. He smiles at Vale anyways, lifts his good shoulder, combing through his brain for what he actually wants Vale to know about his arm. Not lying, just slightly to the left of the truth. He doesn't want anything getting back to Pecco, but Vale can sense insincerity from a mile off.
“I can't complain. The last surgery, it helped.”
Vale’s eyebrows jump, making a little grimace. “I heard, it did not look very pleasant.”
The documentary, Marc thinks, Did he watch the fucking documentary?
“—Now it’s just the bike? Managing the new braking style?” Vale asks. Marc cannot fucking remember the last time Vale asked him two questions in a row.
“Ah, you know. Trade secret.” Vale’s team is also vying for the GP25 — best to keep as much as he can close to his chest.
Vale raises an eyebrow and Marc folds like a cheap stack of cards.
He sighs. nods. Who cares. Vale’s watched him ride for years, he knows Marc still has a little bit to improve on the year old Ducati. He’s seen the data.
“Now it’s just the getting the bike, nailing the setup.” He goes for the PR version of the truth. Nevermind that his arm is still in PT three times a week. The Ducati is good— Marc is having more fun. Fighting at the front. Adjusting easier than he thought he would.
But it’s not a Honda. He needs a bit more time, and he needs– he needs the factory spec. And it looks like Jorge Martin might be the one to get it.
Vale nods, neutral, like the conversation’s ending, like he’s being gracious with Marc’s answer, letting him keep his emotions close— and a sharp, unexplainable feeling digs into Marc’s chest, that same way it did when he was watching him from the seat over in whatever press conference, those first few years. He wants to keep Vale talking. Wants him to keep looking at Marc, wants to— Marc doesn’t quite know, exactly, but it feels a lot like he does on track, when he just can’t quite keep himself from reaching for the win.
He speaks. Vale’s gaze snaps back to him, head following after, a little lazier.
“You? How's endurance racing? Missing anything about MotoGP?”
He says like he doesn’t know. Like he doesn't keep tabs. Like people don’t ask him about Vale’s results.
Anyways, it's hard to be involved in MotoGP and not hear about Vale, even when he’s been retired going into three years now. People talk, always eager for Marc’s opinion on his great rival.
There’s a quirk at the corner of Vale’s mouth. Like he’s won something. Marc curls a fist tight, ignoring the feeling that he’s given information away.
“Some things.” Vale replies, an odd glimmer to him. His brow furrows, then: “I miss how it was around ten years ago, more.”
Marc blinks.
“— Getting old, I mean. It was not so fun, there at the end. I could see everything I wanted to do, every move I would've made on track, ” He sits down across from Marc, leans back in his seat, long torso bending with his lazy posture, the mood shifts and he laughs. “But I was too old! It was harder.”
Of course that’s what he meant. Marc doesn’t— he doesn’t miss Marc. doesn’t think about him much at all, probably. Wasn’t saying he missed how it was between them, ten years ago, when they were friends. Marc knows that.
“I'm getting up there, now.” Marc jokes, “Acosta, he is on the horizon.” He’s not sure it lands, but Vale huffs a laugh anyways, rubs at his eyebrow.
“You?” Vale asks, incredulous. That x-ray quality is back in his vision. He always— He used to always get Marc that way, when he would dial in and make Marc think the words he was saying mattered to him. 
Vale shakes his head, shimmies a shoulder, wags a finger. “No no no no, don’t try that– you are still young, you cant talk to me about old.”
Marc grins. He doesn’t feel it so much, now, the years between them, but it’s a nice reminder of how good it felt, being the up and comer on the scene. The next Valentino Rossi. That was fun.
But he’s older now, has been in the paddock longer than almost anyone, just like Vale had– and he can feel it, dragging at his arm. can see it, in the lines under his eyes, the unfamiliarity of the faces around him.
He wonders how Vale did it for so long. That slow decline— new people popping up every day, ones who learned from him, perfected ideas he pioneered, then using them against him. 
He remembers how he felt on the podium yesterday, and decides not to ask. He leans back.
“Ehhhh, you are not really that much older than me.”
Vale’s expression doesn’t change, still set at his default neutrally animated, but something charges in the air, and Marc gets the sense he wants to say something, toying with the edge of the cliff.
Marc searches for something that won’t rock the boat. He settles on a compliment.
“Pecco was good this weekend— He beat me. You trained him well.”
Vale’s shoulders slide down, relaxing minutely. The charge slips away. Success.
“Ah, he’s a lot better than he was when you showed up at the ranch ten years ago, yes.” 
Marc leans forwards, “Hey!” So much for avoiding fraught topics.
Vale tilts his chin, considering. “What did you say about him? I don’t think it was flattering–”
“—That was ten years ago! I’m wrong ONCE.”
��Once is enough!”
“Apparently.” Marc hits back. 
And it’s good— they’re laughing, Marc thinks, he’s laughing— but that last bit, the apparently, hangs there, snagging in Marc’s mind.
Once is enough. Apparently.
Vale’s smile dies slowly, once it’s clear Marc isn’t about to continue, and it’s odd. Not fraught, for once— though Marc hasn't been the best at recognizing when it was in the past, but he’s pretty sure here. The moment dangles for a second, as they sit across from each other in an airport looking at each other. Vale’s face is doing that thing it was earlier, where he seems to be on the verge of some moment, and his mouth opens. For some reason, Marc flushes hot on the back of his neck. His skin feels tight, and their eye contact holds.
“All good?” It’s Alex, coming back with his Smartwater.
Vale sits up straighter, immediately, posture snapping into place. He nods at Alex, who ignores him, and slides back into his seat. He shrugs at Marc, a little in-joke. What did I do? it asks, fully knowing the answer. Alex has never been as shy as Marc is about his feelings concerning Valentino Rossi. 
And it's that above anything that makes Marc feel like he’s dunked his head in ice water, reality crashing in. The moment snaps as Vale tucks back into himself, leaving Marc off his balance. He feels dizzy and a little off kilter, like he’s done something wrong, like he’s gotten away with something, something illicit, which is ridiculous — he’s just been sitting here.
Nothing’s even happened. They've been two meters away from each other the entire time.
They haven’t even touched.
Vale’s eyes are boring into him, blue and clear. Alert. And Marc catches a flash of— concern, maybe, his brow is creasing— and it tugs at Marc, makes him want to glance back and make him feel easy, lift the corner of his mouth, shrug his shoulders and dismiss Alex’s chilliness. Makes him hot and nervy, out of his skin with the need to do something he doesn’t have a name for.
He smiles.
Maybe he is doing something wrong.
Vale smiles back, and it’s brilliant.
The flight attendant comes over the PA. They’re boarding.
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wcbblife · 4 months ago
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Public relationship with Juju HCs
a/n: I have another one brewing that's a secret relationship with her. Reader is an athlete too btw.
First of all, Juju would be pretty shameless if you two are out to the public. I think she wouldn't shy away from making it known that you two are together. Whether it's showing up to a game around Cali together or her showing up to a school activity with you by her side.
You two would be considered THE power couple since you’re both athletes for USC.
Juju is always on the big screen when she’s at your games and vice versa. When you two are watching another sport, you two always get called out in the crowd. In that case, Juju smiles with a hand around your hips or shoulder to let everybody know just how she felt about you without even having to say a word.
Birthday and anniversary posts are a must for her. She’s also always posting funny videos of you with her laughing in the background and the occasional fit check with an off-screen kiss at the end that makes everyone go crazy.
Some reporters usually try to poke and prod for some scandalous information, but Juju never deters from the fact that she’s down bad for you. She never hides that.
“So, rumor has it you've been spending a lot of time with someone special lately outside of basketball. Care to expand on that?” Juju raises an eyebrow, clearly annoyed at the fact that he was asking such a question at a basketball conference, “You mean my girlfriend?” She tries acting tough but the mere idea of you makes her break into a soft smile, “Yeah, we’ve been hanging out a lot since the season started. We might not get to be together as much once the games start to roll in.” “And you’re sure it’s all well? I mean, we’ve barely seen anything about you two these past few days.” It’s impossible to miss the huff of breath that she lets out. Almost frustrated. “Yeah man. I mean I think we’ve been better than ever. She’s been focused on her rehab, and I've been playing basketball.” She shrugs, “She’s got me breaking all of the coach's rules.” Juju tries to liven up the room with a joke and they all laugh as her coach smacks her hand in a playful manner.
Same with being shameless about you, she doesn’t hesitate to protect you when those crazy overbearing fans criticize you or the media gets out of hand.
"I'd like too also say that what the media paints my girlfriend to be is completely wrong. It would be nice for people to stop talking without knowing anything about her and us personally. " Seeing the media paint you as someone overbearing or keeping her from her full potential pissed of Juju a lot. She turned to the camera capturing the interview. "I would recommend not getting too comfortable on speaking about our relationship. It's none of your business at the end of the day. "
Her media team are literal menaces lowkey. They never miss an opportunity to tease you two. Whether it's making a cheeky caption with Juju's picture or commenting on a post about you.
Never fails to give you the credit you deserve. It can sometimes feel like all the attention is on her, but Juju uses her spotlight to let everyone know just how important you are to her and how she's down bad for you.
TikTok videos together>>>
You have countless videos of her just laying on you when you two are together in bed. Especially those where it’s without her knowing and she’s acting all weird or her just sleeping. Whenever she realizes, a shit eating grin settles on her face. She literally begs you to post them every time people doubt the status of your guy's relationship because it makes her feel super cocky.
She would wear your jersey. I don't make the rules.
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astarasstuff · 6 months ago
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night crawler
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summary: gojo loses his glasses at a frat party. geto loses his phone. they’ll soon find out what happened when geto’s phone is returned to him, with several drunken videos taken of that night on his camera roll, but not by him.
contents: modern!au, frat!satosugu, partygirl!reader, drinking, slight hints to itafushi but it’s mainly in jest, reader is besties with itadori and nobara but they’re only one year below gojo and geto, gojo and geto think ur so hot and fun and they want to get to know u. u have them whipped from literal video footage go you, horny thoughts from the both of them but no smut, still 18+! mdni!
notes: i can’t be bothered to make this pretty rn, so sorry!
“dude, where the fuck did my glasses go” gojo slurs snapping his head around the room in an attempt to find them. he has spares, but he’d like to find them anyway.
“i’m kinda busy trying to find my fucking phone?!” geto responds, and gojo throws his hands up defensively.
the party was fucking huge. one of the biggest. the college football team, of which both gojo and geto were a part of, had won a massive anticipated game against their biggest rivals. and as such, a celebration was in order.
there were too many people in this party to count. faces of people the boys had never seen before. they don’t doubt that a good bunch of the guests don’t even go to their college. they don’t care. they end up getting too drunk to care about their lost items, convinced they'll find them soon enough. they get busy with the huddles of women that surround them and before they know it they’re either blacked out or passed out, they don’t care.
they do care in the morning, however, with raging hangovers and girls who have overstayed their welcome, of whom they usher out of their rooms as soon as possible. they meet coincidentally in the hallway and make their way downstairs for breakfast.
“dude, suguru, we found your phone!” one of the bros shouts to him and geto sighs a sigh of relief. gojo then whines about his glasses still being missing. he goes off to check the aftermath of the party for his glasses, and gives up when he decides he can’t see them past the red solo cups and dead disposables vapes that litter all corners of the floor.
as gojo potters back into the kitchen, geto is in the middle of checking through his phone, making sure it's okay and trying to find evidence of what happened that night. he soon finds it in his camera roll.
a string of videos are available that weren’t there previously, all of varying lengths. he taps on the first one, as gojo looks over his shoulder in curiosity.
some guys is recording using the back camera, as the first couple of seconds of the video show just the surroundings. the camera then twists around, and they get a look at who’s behind the camera. at first, they just see the guy with pink hair? he’s singing to the current song playing, which happens to be night crawler by travis scott. the frame then widens to allow one more person into the view. and gojo figures out where his glasses went.
coming into the frame was one of the prettiest girls either boy had ever seen. perched on her head were gojo's signature glasses. your voice is croaky as you shout out to the camera.
“we found this phone on the ground! we were worried it’d get smashed so we picked it up but we couldn’t find the owner, so we thought we’d take care of it instead!!" you scream at the camera and get a little too close, evidently drunk.
the buildup of the chorus begins and both you and your friend look at each other with excitement, beginning to dance and sing along to the song. your friend turns in front of you so its just you in the frame, and you pull gojos glasses down from your head and into the top of your nose, looking through them into the camera as you sing along. more of your friends come into frame, and you're all dancing together.
“i don’t know whose glasses these are!!!! some guy just put them on my head but they're cute so i'm borrowing them for the night!! i'll leave them here though! hopefully…” you mumble and then the chorus is about to start and you both start jumping and screaming and dancing, and all the boys can think about is how fucking hot you are and how glad they were they lost their items to you. you pull the glasses down your nose again to wink at the camera as you and some girl they assume is your friend start dancing on each other. both men gulp at the sight.
“fuck, she’s pretty.” geto mumbles and gojo just hums and nods in agreement, almost in a trance. he urges geto to keep watching the videos
the rest of the videos are like a compilation of sorts, mainly if you dancing and drinking and gojo and geto both think you’re so much fun and so fucking pretty, they feel their cocks beginning to strain in their pants. god, you’re so so pretty, gojo just wants to fuck you silly in just his glasses, and geto can stop thoughts of how good you'd look on camera as you cum all over his dick. they both baulk at the sudden debauchery that forced its way into their minds. they try to shake such impure thoughts of someone they don't even know out of their heads.
the next video catches their attention. it's longer than the last couple, and it starts with you propping up the phone on the counter of a bathroom, with your pink-haired friend and a brunette girl who had been dancing with you the entire night. gojo notes that you've pushed his glasses up back onto your head, revealing your full pretty face to them again, this time in better lighting.
"maaan i wish megumi were here!" your guy friend said, as you take your lip combo from him that he'd been keeping safe for you in the pocket of his jeans. gojo and geto begin to worry your relationship with him was not platonic. wait what? "you know him, yuuji, hell would freeze over before he came to one of these" you giggle as you uncap your lip liner and start applying it in the mirror. yuuji. the boys make a mental note at that name.
“stiilllllllll,” he whines, “doesn’t mean I’ll miss him any less.” the other girl in the room laughs at this. “christ, separate yuuji from his boyfriend and all of a sudden he’s pouting like toddler.” you stop applying your lip liner to giggle at her, definitely finding it a tad too funny. you’re cute when you’re drunk, they conclude. “he’s not my boyfriend.” the boy they now know as yuuji has adopted a tone akin to a child being denied their favourite candy at the store. “that’s what you think.” you giggle and move to apply your lipgloss.
now, gojo and geto like to think they’re not absurdly dirty minded. yes, they’re pretty sex driven, as any boy their age is, but they both felt like a pair of prepubescent boys seeing boobs for the first time when you applied your lipgloss to your pretty pretty lips. The colour compliments you so well, and they just want to kiss is right off you, better yet have it smeared on their co-
christ they both need a cold shower.
“girl I’ll never get over that combo on you.” the other girl in the room with you says. “right? i love it so much.” you say looking at both you her in the reflection of the mirror. “god we’re so hot nobara.” you say and this ‘nobara’ squeals in agreement as you giggle together. yuuji smiles at the interaction, and you turn to the camera.
“hey mystery person, don’t we all look hot?” and you swing your arms over your two friends and you look so happy, you all giggling together. god, you were pretty, fun and your smile was gorgeous. did you have any flaws? the boys both startle when you and yuuji gasp as you begin to hear ‘no hands’ by waka flocka flame from the speakers outside the party. “oh fuck i love this song i am not missing it. let’s go!” you squeal and grab the camera, pressing a kiss to the lens as a goodbye.
it wasn’t a final goodbye, evidently, as there were more videos. they were more of the short miscellaneous dancing ones, though they weren’t complaining. your body was to die for, and seeing you move like that? yeah, absolutely no complaints. they make it to the final video, which is just you in what they think is their supply closet? you still have gojo glasses on, and you speak as loudly as you can, music still penetrating to the room with you.
“we’re about to leave! yuuji got to drunk and is throwing up somewhere and nobara is keeping him in check… i hope. so i came to say gooooodbye! this is kinda sad, this was so fun. sorry for stealing your phone for the night, mystery person. we just wanted to keep it safe, i hope you weren’t too worried! im hoping to put it on the nightstand of a bedroom that isn’t currently occupied by horny college goers, so hopefully one of the frat bros finds it and can keep hold of it until you come to collect it! i hope you had as much fun tonight as i did, mwah!” and you finish by blowing a kiss to the camera with a wink. both of them are pretty upset the vlogs have ended, and it’s pretty evident you ended up going home with gojo glasses. oh well, they’re in great hands now anyway.
“you have to send me those.” gojo says after a beat. “in you dreams.” geto replies and gojos mouth drops at this. “it’s my phone.” geto declares. “well, yeah but she was wearing my glasses. and she said they were cute. cmon man.” and they begin to squabble when they’re interrupted by one if the brothers, calling their attention to a guest who probably lost something last night and came to get it back. they don’t expect to see who’s actually there.
it’s you. less dolled up and in casual clothes but still as fucking pretty. you’re evidently tired, and they can feel the embarrassment radiate from you. they immediately stop arguing, geto turning off his phone and turning to face you.
“um, im so sorry to interrupt your day,” you start and they both think about how thankful they were you did interrupt their day. “i, err, i accidentally took home these glasses last night. i don’t know who they belong to, so i thought it was a safe bet to drop them off here in case someone comes looking for them.” you shuffle your feet shyly and bring forth the glasses for them to see. who knew such a party girl could get so shy. god you were so fucking sweet it was almost bad for them. gojo grins and begins to step forward.
“those are mine, pretty girl. thanks for returning ‘em.” gojo grins as he walks up to you. you flush, and geto comes to join his bestfriends side. the pretty girl they’d been entranced by all morning was now right in front of them. and they’ll be damned if they this opportunity go to waste.
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charliehoennam · 1 year ago
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home again.
A/N: request made here by @juniebugg and a nonny made here so i decided to mash these two together
Pairing: John Kinley x F!reader
Warnings: Language and smut. No minors, please!
Word count: 2,675
SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG
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The dusty gravel of your driveway crunched under the tires of Declan’s truck. You didn’t need to look out the window to know who it was, but you wanted to see him. Make sure he’s alright.
You’d refused to pick John up at the military base. You didn’t want to be anywhere near it. It’d been months since he’d been away and you hated every single second he was gone.
You missed him more than anything in the world. Deep inside, you were thrilled he was finally home and, most importantly, safe. Part of you wanted to race out the door and throw yourself in his arms. The other part, however, wanted to slap him across the face.
Months of his absence – provided only via letters and shitty connections through phone calls or video chats that could never replace his presence – drove you insane.
The only thing that was worse was zero contact. Not knowing if he was dead or alive; that every car that drove by the house would deliver that dreaded folded flag. Sometimes, you questioned why he would want to be in the army in the first place, fighting a war that he has no fault in. How could he just leave you?
You’d thought it would get easier to live with after you got married. Turned out, it wasn’t.
John called out for you and spotted you by the window where he’d caught you staring out of just before you moved away to hide. He read your resistance right off the bat.
“Hey, honey” he smiled as he set his army green bag on the floor in the hallway. “Don’t I get a kiss huh?”He tried to joke to loosen you up.
There was definitely tension in the air that he’d detected even before walking in, but he wanted to avoid conflict on his first day home. He’d missed you just as much as you’d missed him; there was no doubt the distance was hard on both sides. Yet you felt he was to blame since it was his choice to reenlist. You were there. You’d always be there.
You pulled away as he tried to pull you into his arms and marched back into the kitchen where you’d been making his favorite: Fettucine alfredo with crispy bits of Italian sausage. 
“Something smells real good.” His attempts were getting nowhere. “Come on, baby. Is this how it’s gonna be every time I come home?”
“You could just stay home.” You shrugged as you continued stirring the pot of white sauce before dipping a spoon to taste-test the flavor.
“We’re really gonna do this? Again?” He scoffed running a hand over his tired face.
“Do you really expect me to be all bright smiles when you were literally gone for 9 months in the middle of God knows where? After 11 days of sheer silence, I just found 6 days ago that you weren’t dead, John.”
“I thought that would be something to be happy about.” His brows furrowed.
“I am happy you’re alive, John. But I did also spend 11 days thinking you might have been dead!”
“That wasn’t my fault! We got ambushed by an IED in the middle of nowhere. We lost the RV and had to trek through the goddamn desert. You think I wanted that happen?!”
“Then you shouldn’t have relisted! I just don’t get it! Why would you want to go back to that?!”
“You don’t have to get anything! You’re acting like this is all new to you! You knew I was in the Army before, that it wouldn’t change when we got married!”
“Maybe I’d hope it would! So crucify me for thinking that maybe my husband would want to actually be home with me after getting married!” 
Your argument only escalated after that. John was angry and you were furious. A blur of loud voices, searing tears and fists pounding on walls and countertops. At some point, he had decided to blow off some steam and slammed the front door shut as he left to have a drink at the bar. He didn’t want to get drunk or talk to anybody. He just wanted to get out of there before you’d both said things that couldn’t be taken back.
Sat on a tall stool with a beer bottle cradled in his hands, he stared into nothingness wanting to forget everything. However, his mind found itself returning to you. To your scent that lingered on his clothes after his hug. To your warmth against his chest and arms. Fuck, he missed you badly and he hated that he couldn’t fucking forget it.
After pushing himself off the stool, he drove home in silence and cautiously stepped over the threshold. His eyes scanned the house as he made his way in, searching for any indication that could explain your current state. But he found only silence. A daunting calmness in the shadows of the home as the streets casted their lights in attempt to chase the gloom. But when his eyes landed on a pillow stacked upon of a folded-up blanket, he shook his head and ignored your punishment.
That was his limit. The final drop to overflow the flood he’d spent hours trying to contain.
You tossed and turned in bed, wondering if you had gone too far. You reflected on his words. He wasn’t wrong. You knew the Army was important to him going into the relationship. You knew that when you said yes when he asked you to marry him. You knew that when you said “I do” at the altar.
He felt his blood boil again as he marched up the stairs with his pillow under his arm. The door flew up open and he strode into the room, avoiding your bewildered gaze as you propped yourself up on your elbow.
“What do you think you’re doing?” You questioned angrily. “You’re sleeping on the couch.”
“The hell I am. I spent nine months away. I’m sleeping in my own bed tonight.”
You could hear the tinge of impatience in his voice. He sat at the edge of his side on the bed to untie his boots and set them aside with a thud muffled by the carpet.
“You’re not sleeping here, John.”
“You can sleep on the couch if you want, but I’m sleeping right here.”
“You’re fucking ridiculous, you know that?”
“Oh, I am huh? How about you? You’re the one that’s acting like a fucking child.”
You sat up in disbelief, ready for round two of your argument.
“Just don’t. I’m tired and I wanna sleep.” He stated as he laid back against his pillow, back turned to you.
“You think it’s fucking easy? You think it’s easy having you miles away, with no notice if you’re even alive? I thought you were dead, John!”
He was ready to snap back with his defense, but the tears building in your eyes warned him not to. Instead, his jaw clenched as he held his gaze on you.
“I spent night crying my fucking eyes out thinking you weren’t coming home this time! Just to get up the next day and pretend like everything was alright! Do you know how emotionally exhausting this has been for me?!”
He hadn’t thought about that. Guilt settled in his chest and started to build in his throat as he listened to your rant, which soon brought you to sob.
“Hey, it’s alright. I’m home…” he whispered pulling you into his strong arms, wrapping them around you.
Any resistance you had melted away against his warmth. You gave in and buried your face into his neck.
“I’m home. I’m with you and everything’s alright. Everything’s alright now.” he repeated as he soothed you with gentle kisses on the crown of your head. His palm rubbed circles against your back.
Your body was yearning for him. He could tell from the way your nails clung onto his shirt. His fingers lifted your chin to catch your gaze.
“Look at me. I’m right here. I’m with you and I’m not going anywhere, alright?” he whispered with a thumb wiping your tears away.
“I got you, hm?”
Sealing his promise with a kiss, your body softened and accepted his kiss. Then his tongue. You could feel it building in your core. That familiar lust that had haunted you during his absence. That craving that couldn’t be quenched.
Like magnets, your bodies had lost against the invisible pull. His hands slipped down to your thighs, guiding them as you straddled his lap.  The heated kiss was unbroken until your hands tugged at his olive-green shirt to release it from the tuck of his camouflaged pants. You helped him pull it off over his head as he helped you remove the Pink Floyd t-shirt that once belonged to him before becoming your favorite nightgown.
 As your lips collided once again – more feverish than before –, your hands roamed down to unbuckle his belt. The metal clinked as it hit the floor. John wasted no time to lay you down against the mattress. You needed him and there he finally was to take care of you. God, how he’d missed your taste.
He whispered continuous praises as his bushy beard brushed against your delicate skin, peppering kisses down to your breasts. His mouth closed around your hardening nipples, suckling them with eyes closed to relish their fullness and warmth.
“My beautiful wife. Missed you so fucking much.”
His hand kneaded each of them as he squeezed your flesh to his face. He could’ve stayed there forever, but he was eager to please you.
He forced himself up as he stood back on his knees, sat against his heels. His gaze on you was loving as if admiring a sculpture he’d carved from his own dreams. “I love you” fell from his lips over and over again, like a prayer in between the tender kisses he pressed against your legs, lifting them to rest against his broad shoulders. He hooked his fingers into your panties and slid them up your legs and tosses them to the floor. His eyes locked on yours was more than enough to cause your core to puddle. You could feel the slick building with every kiss.
He wasted no time settling between your thighs, trailing his kisses over your outer labia. This was about making you feel good. Making it sink into your brain that he was finally fucking home.
With your legs bent up over his shoulders, he moaned as he buried his mouth against your plush slick flush. One hand slid up to your breast as the other locked its fingers with your own. You moaned and wiggled against him.
He devoured you and smiled to himself as he watched the way your body arched in pleasure. The salty sweet taste of you liquefied his insides. He could feel him twitching as his cock hardened on the bed. After months of bottling in all his desires and having to satisfy himself with his hand and a photo of you in lingerie, his thirst for you was erupting beyond control. He had to remind himself that this was going to be about you.
His hips began rocking against the bed at the sounds your body was making. He was so eager to fuck you, but he had to contain himself to make it last. Yet his hunger for you had his hips grinding against the mattress, aching for any type of friction he could get as he battled with his self-control. His cock spasmed in his pants with every gentle tug on his hair or scrape of your nails on his scalp.  
With his tongue building up your orgasm, it lapped over your folds and concentrated on the overly sensitive nub. He swiped and swiveled over it; the pressure in your depths grew into hot white pleasure. You weren’t going to last much longer.
The hand on your breast slid down your scorching skin to hold your hips firmly in place as you wriggled, wrestling against the implosion and failing terrible to resist until you finally caved in. Your body trembled as your legs shut on either side of his head. He smiled as he proudly admired your reaction, enjoying how quickly your chest rose and fell. The leaking precum from his dick was beginning to sink through his boxers and pants; he was almost certain he’d left a wet spot on the bedsheet.
He lifted himself off and was unable to wait any longer. He needed to feel you on his cock. Kicking his pants off provided you a moment to regain yourself and admired the way his muscles contracted under his skin. This big burly man was yours, all yours.
As he crawled back between your legs and aligned himself to penetrate, you both watched his head slowly push in through your soaking pussy in burning anticipation lathered with only the spit on his fingertips.
His eyes closed tightly shut as he bottomed out and held himself there for a moment, controlling his own increasing implosion.
You could tell he was struggling a bit between satisfying you both and giving into his own carnal needs. You cradled the sides of his face and gently guided him down to kiss him in an attempt to distract him from the wonderful hug of your cunt on his cock.
With an arm propped on the side of your head, he kissed you hungrily as his hand gripped the soft flesh of your thigh and pushed your hips against his. His groin brushing on your swollen nub sent fireworks bursting through your nerves, forcing a shy moan from your throat. He smiled and pulled his head back to look down at you.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
As his lips latched onto your neck, his hips pulled back and slowly thrusted forward to begin his pace. Slow and gentle, but so deliciously full and stretched. You held your breath with every push and pull of his cock, clenching around it to hold him inside. You’d never let him go if you could. His cock in you made you feel so completed like this is where you both were meant to be.
His pace started to quicken. A sheen coat of sweat glazed your bodies in the cool blue light of the moon that rained in from the tall windows of your bedroom. The searing heat had begun to bubble from the inside out, oozing from your desperate desire to feel each other deeper.
The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed out the open door and into the hallway. His balls slammed against your perineum as your wetness began coating the bedsheet underneath, staining it with remnants of love and lust.
With labored breaths, he hugged you tightly against him with his other arm. It was building up in you for the second time and you could tell it was building in him as well. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your toes curled against his hips. The tight embrace of your pussy as you came again had him frantically hammering into you as praises flooded out from his lips.
“Feel so fucking good for me. I-I fucking love you, baby. L-love you so much.”
Releasing you to lock your fingers together, he shuddered with a deep moan and slowed to a stop. You milked every drop. The hot load filled you with an incomparable warmth in your depths. Your walls were coated in his pearly white seed.
He panted as he held himself in your cunt for a moment longer until he finally pulled out and collapsed beside you. You turned on your side to face him. His hands reached out for you and pulled you into his arms. Perfectly nestled against his hairy chest, you smiled to yourself. His heart beating against your ear was the final reminder that he was home. He was here and he was all yours.
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httpvomitello · 17 days ago
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hello, I liked your tmnt bay hc with mom but could you make one where they have a human sister??
Hello, hello. Hope you like it! ♡♡♡♡
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He’s not just the leader of his brothers, he sees himself as a leader for you too
He’s constantly checking in on how you’re doing, whether it’s school, work, or just life in general
You can bet he’s got advice for everything
Literally. For. Everything.
Even if you don’t ask for it, Leo has something to say about your decisions because he feels responsible for your well-being
He tries not to be overbearing, but sometimes his overprotectiveness gets in the way
He’s the one who insists you text him when you get at school or work safely or if you’re walking alone at night
And if anything threatens you, Leo’s the first to step in
If someone’s messing with his sister, they’re going to learn quickly that Leo doesn’t play around
Despite all the seriousness, he’s also the most proud of you
Anytime you accomplish something, Leo’s the first to congratulate you
He always makes sure you know that you’re doing great and that he believes in you.
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He is the definition of the overprotective big brother
You’re his soft spot, and anyone who messes with you better watch their back
If you bring a date around, expect Raph to sit there glaring at them the entire time, arms crossed, silently assessing if they’re worthy
He’ll question them hard, and you probably have to step in before he interrogates them too much
He’s the type to show his love through actions more than words
You two bicker a lot, mostly because Raph thinks you’re too reckless, and you think he’s too controlling
But at the end of the day, he’s the first person you call when you need backup
Even though he’s rough around the edges, he’s super soft for you
And because of that, you end up taking advantage of those moments...
He also teaches you how to knit
You’re the one person who can get through his tough exterior, and he’d do anything to keep you safe.
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Donnie might not be the most vocal about it, but he’s just as protective as his brothers
He’s more likely to watch from a distance, monitoring your safety in subtle ways, like setting up tech to keep tabs on you without invading your privacy
(Or so he thinks)
He’s the one who builds gadgets for you to make sure you’re always safe
A GPS tracker hidden in your bag? You bet. A customized phone with extra security? He’s on it
Donnie’s your go-to for help with anything tech-related or schoolwork
He’s patient and loves teaching you new things, especially if it’s something he’s passionate about
If you’re ever having a bad day, Donnie is there to listen
He may not always know the right thing to say, but he’s always willing to lend an ear and help you
He’s proud of your intelligence and loves having conversations with you
He respects you a lot and trusts your judgment, though he sometimes tries to protect you in his own "nerdy" way by overthinking everything.
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He’s always down for a laugh and goes out of his way to make sure you’re never bored
Unfortunately for everyone else, you and Mikey are the unbeatable duo when it comes to pranks
He’s the one dragging you into random activities, whether it’s playing video games, skateboarding, or making ridiculous food combinations in the kitchen
Even though he’s laid-back, Mikey’s protective in his own way
If you’re upset or stressed, he’s the first to notice and will drop everything to cheer you up
You’re his favorite person to goof off with, but if someone hurts you?
They’ve crossed a line, and you’ll see how serious Mikey can get
He loves embarrassing you, and that's it
Mikey is also the most encouraging. He’s always hyping you up, telling you that you’re amazing and capable of anything
He genuinely believes in you and is always there to remind you when you doubt yourself
If you ever feel down, Mikey knows just what to say to lift your spirits, and his positivity is infectious
You can’t help but smile around him.
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redbatchedcumbermayned · 6 months ago
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It all started under a duvet held up by an oar
Not so long ago I emailed Chris Tester, the voice of Heinrix van Calox in Owlcat’s recently released CRPG Rogue Trader, and asked if he would like to sit for an interview with me. Having some experience in interviewing people I like, most famously Oscar winner and all-around sweetheart Eddie Redmayne, this was not a completely nerve-wracking endeavour. And within a day of sending my email, Chris said yes. And what a pleasure it was interviewing him: Chris was so generous with his time, that the agreed upon 30 minutes turned into 50 minutes as we brushed upon many topics from his start as a theatre actor to his first voice-over role in a video game to his recently discovered hobby of playing D&D. Of course, we also spoke about all things Warhammer 40k, his new found fame brought on by voicing Heinrix and the insights he could share about the character.
I will publish this interview in three parts over the next week in text form and with the accompanying audio file (the audio quality is not spectacular but tumblr limits uploads to 10MB). If you quote or reshare, please quote me as the original source.
Part 2 of the interview
Part 3 of the interview
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Fran: Thank you very much for taking your time.
Chris Tester: That's no problem. No problem at all.
F: So then let's start. You graduated in 2008.
CT: I did. Yes.
F: You started out as a stage actor. Did you always want to become a stage actor or an actor in general? Tell us a bit about your career.
CT: I always wanted to be a stage actor. Yes, as soon as I knew that I wanted to be an actor, which probably wasn't until I was a teenager. But yeah, my first passion was always the stage, and that was kind of borne out in my career. I would have been open to TV and film of course, if it had come along, I'm a huge fan of TV and film as well, but I never got an audition for any TV or film work.
I think I literally did about three short films in my 10, 12 years of actually professionally acting, and it is one of those industries where the more you do of one thing, the more you seem to find yourself doing the same thing to a degree. So yes, watching Shakespeare from an early age was one of my first passions.
And that was what first planted the seed of wanting to do it myself. The whole aspect of live performance is still something that I'm very passionate about. Up until 2020, when the world changed, I was trying to do two or three theatre shows a year, but since 2020, I haven't been near a stage and I doubt right now, especially with the way that the UK theatre scene is going, that I'm going to be back on stage anytime soon. I am resigned to that, but at some point in my career, I know I will be on stage again, because I can't live without it, but only for the right thing, both financially, but more importantly, creatively.
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F: Your production company is currently on hiatus?
CT: I was the producer of a theatre company, which was run and was the baby of the director of the company, a guy called Ross Armstrong, who's one of the most talented writers and directors that I've ever worked with. I was helping out with a lot of the administration stuff so that he could still put me in plays. Instead of creating my own work because I'm not a very good writer or the best writer in the world, I support those people who will write me good parts. So yes, it is currently on hiatus, but never say never, we would always be looking to get back. It's difficult right now. It's difficult for all of us, because arts council subsidy, that way of being able to fund stuff, is drying up. We were doing a national tour of the UK when we were doing that [with the support of a subsidy]. There's even less money, there's even more people. I won't bore you with anything more than that, but it's kind of tough. We'd like to come back, but in the right way, and that's tricky to negotiate.
F: It's always hard as a stage actor to earn a living.
CT: Well, I've been spoiled by voice-over as well, and whereas when I was in my 20s and 30s then you're all about your art. And of course, I'm still all about my art, but I'm also about my wife and my cat and the mortgage and the bills and wanting to have nicer things to a degree as well. I've come to terms with that and voice-over does facilitate that as well as it opens you up to different roles and working with different people. So, I can't complain.
F: It's quite similar with making a living as a writer, because with a steady income you get used to a certain standard of living and once you have obligations and bills to pay, I think the stress on your mental health being creative and having all the stresses of regular life thrust upon you brings with it a challenge.
CT: It's a cliche we can very easily fall into: if I'm suffering, then it means I'm an artist. And that's not necessarily very true. It very often means that the art that we create only reflects one aspect of our lives, and it's usually a very tortured one. I am also about having wider experiences and broadening myself out. Whereas I think when I was in my twenties, I was thinking a bit more like: Oh, I'll experience the world and life through my art and just purely through my art. Whereas now necessarily I need to have a life outside of it as well, and then I can justify like I have the life so that I can feed my art or not, whatever. You know, I'll be a better artist by having a bit of a life outside of it. Maybe.
F: But that's what your twenties are for.
CT: Yeah, indeed.
F: Doing the crazy stuff, doing the band stuff 
CT: Yeah, yeah, exactly. So, there was certainly an aspect of that in my twenties.
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F: So, what brought you to voice acting or voice-over work initially?
CT: Money. Video game stuff is kind of sexy and cool, and I'm a gamer, so that's important. Before I was a video gamer, I was a board gamer and off the back of that, I was a voracious video gamer, partly because I wasn't very good at team sports at school. I was always the person who was picked last in the football team. So that becomes part of your identity for better or worse. But video games, I was pretty good at, not amazing, but I was pretty good at, and I enjoyed it. And it gave me a different form of escapism as well, and off the back of that I always had an interest in them. 
So, the very first voiceover job was a video game: Dark Souls, which is quite a big franchise. At that time, I was your very typically jobbing actor. My acting agent came in and said: I got something for you. And so, I went in with that. But it was only in 2016, 2017 that I realised it was something that you could actually do yourself. People had recording studios at home and they were contacting people directly, not just going through agents. Because I'd basically written to the same 20 voice agents in the UK, mainly in London for like eight years in a row and not received anything. So, you keep knocking on those doors hoping. 
Before I'd even graduated from drama school, I'd burnt a CD and made these cases with my headshot on it and sent them all off at what at the time felt like great personal expense and didn't get anything for eight years in a row.  So, I was a bit like, I'm obviously doing something wrong, but I don't really know what, because I'm doing these workshops and getting good feedback. Then I found out through a couple of online courses, that there were ways and means of doing it myself, and that was a bit of a game changer for me, and within six months of having started, I was earning more through voice work than the bar job and the box office job that I was doing combined. Within six months, I was kind of like: “I gotta quit because I'm actually holding myself back from things.” So that was quite a big shift.
F: Somewhere you said, you started out under a duvet and with an oar.
CT: Yeah. On my website, I do have an image of it. [Dear reader, I could not locate this elusive photo] I literally had to take the duvet off my bed and put it into the living room, which was the quietest space in my then shared flat. I also had to wait until after one flat mate had watched TV and another one had used the table that had their washing on it. One of my flat mates had stolen an oar from some night out and that was perfect in order to be able to erect it over my head and the duvet as a frame. 
I did probably the first four or five months of voice recording like that. Probably about 10, 15 voiceover jobs that I actually got paid for, I was using that because it worked well enough. Since then, I've gone through various different iterations of a setup in the bedroom, to a setup in the hallway, to my current setup. In 2020 we moved to our first house, and this is the spare bedroom which I've had converted into a studio, which means my cat can be here asleep on me or near me getting fur everywhere, but it's fine. I can thrash around and I've got natural light to work in at the same time, which I find quite important. [Pictured below Chris' current setup.]
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F: Very pretty. That's good. Guide us through a typical day of yours, if you like.
CT: Oh, sure. I mean, there is no typical day. And yet, and yet, and yet. A typical day for me is, because I am spending the vast majority of the day sitting in this room or somewhere close to this room, because I may need to record at short notice, because the vast majority of jobs are quite short notice. My priority is exercise for mental health more than anything. I've got some weights at the bottom of the garden, and I will get up first thing, and I will go there and I will do that after breakfast. And that's my minimal routine of physical activity done. 
And then I'll come back, and this is so rock and roll. Now what I do is, I spend like an hour on LinkedIn. And that's what you dreamed of as a creative person. Isn't it as an actor? I spend time on LinkedIn regularly every day, because it's a really good networking place for a lot of my types of work, and first thing in the morning, I'm a bit mentally sharper. So that's when I come up with a quick post that may be inspired by a bit of content that I've made elsewhere. That probably takes about 20 minutes and then I spend another 45 minutes to an hour engaging with people and saying hi and introducing myself and asking questions, whether that's with video producers or game developers or documentary makers or pretty much anything and everything. There are a lot of people who are active at that time. And so I do it.
And then after that, if I already have some recording lined up, then I'll prioritise mid-morning, because I've warmed up physically a bit more then, and I'm focused. So, you're going through the scripts, annotating the scripts, recording the scripts, editing the scripts. But then there could be live sessions at any time within that as well. I try to keep hours from nine till six. But occasionally, like with Rogue Trader, that was recorded at various different times of the day because we had people in New York, we had people in mainland Europe, and we had people in the UK. So all different time zones, so that can happen at any time. 
And then I try to do other kinds of bits and pieces of marketing whenever I've got free time to. I do use really exciting productivity hacks, like time blocking. Again, not something that as a creative individual, I was like: Oh God, this gets me so excited, because it doesn't, but it works. It's finding a system that works for you, but still has a certain kind of flexibility and fluidity. I'm trying to make sure that I get outside of the house, and that kind of stuff. 
Recently, over the last year, I’ve started doing audiobooks as well. That long form type of thing is quite nice to be able to dip into because sometimes you don't record for two, three days. You don't get the work. Nothing’s coming in. So, you’re marketing, but it kind of connects you back to the performance side of things to go: I can do a few chapters and you know, that kind of thing. So that's probably it. I try to formalise it, but you know, every voice actor’s day is radically different. There are people, some of the biggest names, going into different studios every week or every day. I very rarely, despite being based in London, I very rarely go into external studios. Like I would say 99 percent of the work I just do from home.
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F: So how do you find the right voice for the specific type of voiceover work you do, maybe start with how did you find Heinrix's voice?
CT: Thankfully, Owlcat sent through quite a detailed casting breakdown. So, you get a picture, and that's pretty crucial, as well as a short bio, in terms of the background of the character, but not too much, because you have to sign an NDA, a non-disclosure agreement. But even if you do sign an NDA, I think developers are always slightly hesitant of giving you too much info about the game because things could still be changed. But I think I did get a picture of Heinrix, if not in the first audition, then certainly on the second one. From that you immediately think about the physicality and what might affect the voice, and there was also some direction in terms of what they were looking for. Anybody who has heard the character and me, they do not sound radically dissimilar. There's not a transformative process that I needed to go through, other than his sense of authority and the space that he takes up and the sureness that he has in that he has a kind of divine right from the emperor, so that level of confidence being brought through.
The other part of the audition was about the void ship [the Black Ship] that he'd been raised in and the horrors that he'd seen. And you as the actor have to do the detective work to go like this is showing another side, the more vulnerable side, the side that underpins all of his life choices up to this point. It's essentially playing the opposite to a degree. So it was kind of knowing when to let those elements bleed through a little bit. I think I had probably about a page worth of scripts, quite a lot of script actually to audition with. 
But I don't like to listen back to it a lot, because I think you get into your head. My biggest thing is stage work where it's ephemeral. You say it once and it could be different the next night. The whole point is that there's no one definitive way of doing things. Not quite the same with voice acting, where it's being recorded and you've got to get used to hearing it back. But I try not to overthink it. Just like record it two or three times with different impulses and then review and go like, those two seem pretty contrasting. I'll send those along and hope and then never hear anything back unless I do.
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an-au-blog · 3 months ago
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Artist Usopp who has the most vivid dreams of Sanji ever since he can remember, this mysterious blond growing alongside him in the unconscious world. So he grows up, goes to art school, gets his degree, and starts the path of a starving artist. Not a lot of people buy his art, but he keeps making it. He never liked showing the overwhelmingly large collection of sketches, paintings, 3D prints, carvings, clay figurines, literally anything he could make of Sanji. It felt too personal to show anyone, but people would inevitably see them, as he can't stop doodling the man. They keep saying that's what he should be promoting as his work and how people would pay big money for those, but he always doubted it.
A time came where he could feel the "starving artist" title a bit too literally. With regret, he took his friend's advice and sold a painting to some random guy. The man came back with a friend - lover of the arts and before Usopp knew it, he was selling the blond of his dreams to collectors and museums. He started making marble sculptures, now that he could afford it, like the blond was a greek god, an angel sent to feed him in his most desperate times. Usopp knew such a man didn't exist, but it was nice to have him in his dreams at least.
Well... that was until one day Luffy sent him a video. One of those memes where people went to galleries and posed with victorian portraits that looked like them. He captioned it with "lol rly thought it was him for a sec". Usopp thought this would be another video forgotten in the waves of spam Luffy liked to send, but as the different people went by, suddenly, Usopp felt cold sweat down his back. It was the blond. He looked exactly like the man in his dreams... no. that was the same man. He was absolutely sure of it. He had been drawing and studying that face, those hands, the colors and curves all his life. That was him!
He desperately tried finding him, but all he had was a private page and that was it. He couldn't get any clue as to who he was from the user name "LetHimCook" or the bio saying he was 21 and a rat and a cheff's hat emoji.
Usopp gave up hope for the time being as he was supposed to finish a project that was the biggest in his career so far.
The day to present it had come and Usopp stood there, nervous, talking about his art while snobbish-looking people hummed as if they understood anything about his life's work. Some of the asked questions that he absentmindedly answered, but then someone from the back, who Usopp couldn't see asked something that caught his attention.
"I have two questions if I may. Firstly, who is the inspiration to this "dream" collection? It seems to be more about a lover than actual dreams. And secondly, have you ever considered doing an auto portrait?"
The two unrelated questions caught him off guard, and he didn't know how to say anything about the first one without sounding insane, or the second - without sounding depressed.
"Uhm, interesting questions." Usopp cleared his throat. "You see, uh..." he tried finding the words but they died on his tongue when the asker came into view. It was him. "It's you." He said accidentally out loud.
"I beg your pardon?"
They look at each other for a long second. Usopp couldn't tear his eyes away from the blue haunting his every day and night. "Sorry, I- I didn't answer your uh-" Usopp stuttered, trying to keep any semblance of dignity he could. "I don't like doing self portraits, I've made a few but the model kind of sucks." The people laughed with him but the blond only gave a small smile.
"I would love to see them some time, as I'm sure I'm not the only one."
How could this man leave him speechless every time.
After the Q&A bit was over, Usopp tried his best to avoid small talk from the guests so he could get to the blond before he left. But by the time he got there, Sanji was talking to someone, it would have been extremely awkward to join in.
"Hey, Usopp!" The man who was talking to Sanji turned, and oh God it was Luffy.
The artist didn't know if he should be happy or a bit scared. Luffy dragged Usopp into the conversation and it started flowing quite easily. It was not long before Luffy left to see another friend of his but his absence didn't make it uncomfortable. Usopp learned the man's name, that he loved to cook and that he had been a fan of his work for a while.
Agreeing that Sanji would get a "private tour" or the rest of Usopps (not displayed works), the "party" ends.
On their way home, Luffy hits him with a "It was so funny seeing that guy flirt with you all night."
Usopp, stopping dead in his tracks: Who?
Luffy: Blond guy who kinda looks like your obsession drawings...
Usopp malfunctioning: .......... oh...... . .. . . ... OH!
When they finally arrange a date for the "private tour", Usopp keeps an open mind, trying to see if he really WAS flirting. But then they get to the half-assed self portraits Usopp made of himself and, honestly - Usopp never wanted to show them. He wasn't all that good-looking, he didn't like how they turned out, he hadn't put in any effort and most of them were more reminiscent of grotesque caricatures than the usual realistic beauty he was used to painting.
"They're not really - I mean I mostly made them out of boredom, I- I don't really like them and- and-" He tried to excuse himself, but when he looked at Sanji, he lost all his words. The blond was looking at the paintings and sketches with such awe and sympathy. He reached out to the painted face, the tips of his fingers barely grazing the surface.
He looked back at Usopp, causing his breath to catch in his throat.
"You're far too mean to yourself." Sanji said, faint, barely audible. His eyes widened slightly as the words escaped his lips as if he didn't mean to let them slip.
On instinct, the deep-rooted self-loading Usopp had harboured all these years bubbled just the slightest. "Haha, or maybe not enough."
But then Sanji turned to him seriously, lips in a thin line, a bit hurt. "In... in an interview you once said you're glad the public liked your art, because you wouldn't bare sharing a piece of your soul and seeing anyone insult the man who's haunted your dreams." A stuttering breath. "So, I'd like to request you don't insult the man from mine..."
Oh...
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choochooboss · 2 years ago
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Submas sketchdump! Vol. 1
April-June 2022
Literally dumping all the presentable works as promised, whether I'm proud of them or not! This is where I started, even before the first thing I posted online (That subway station one). Many of these are not on Twitter yet so there's lots to see!
The top piece above the header is my very first digital Submas artwork!! I never finished it bc I didn't know how to pull my vision of as I wanted & started modeling the train and didn't finish that either, whoops! I really want to remake this later and make it super cool!
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^^^ My reaction to breaking 500 likes & 100 followers in a single day with my first tweet (the battle subway one) all the way back in May!! I was completely floored by all the attention, oh how it skyrocketed my excitement and anxiety! Crazy times, I was so super nervous to be there with so many amazing artists and doubted if I could ever survive there ahahah!! Many had joined the community much much earlier than me, so I had arrived with a late train to PLA/neo Submas hype!
Next up is a bunch of stuff I haven't posted before:
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One of my fav sketches! Been saving this for so long bc I really really want to finish this one day!
One of the first submas sketches with an actual story behind it! The subway bosses are running late for their flight because they didn't pass the safety check! The irony!! This would never happen as bosses are always on schedule. But Emmet hadn't noticed a wild Joltik hiding under his coat, so he set up the alarm and they got examined and interrogated of smuggling! How embarrassing for them! The bosses resolved the situation by catching the Joltik, but will they be able to catch their flight anymore?? Maybe if Elesa can distract the stuerts performing the safety protocol for a minute!
More sketchbook stuff...
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In case you can't make any sense of it, Emmet's dreaming of different combinations of pokémon. Meanwhile Ingo snores louder than the train! HONK SHOO!
Top 7 every submas fan draws at some point!
Submas trademark posing
submas sleeping in a train
sad Emmet
Emmet with Joltik
Ingo with a cool solo pose
Emmet being chaotic & Ingo reacting to it
a bunch of mirrored submas poses
I sure have a full bingo card lmao, most of them you can see here XD
Next up is a sad man...
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Stay strong our friends!
My typical sketchbook pages, crammed and messy as usual. x)
Post-PLA exploration:
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A few examples of how my pencil sketches evolve.
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I've done so much art experimenting with submas. I really like this black & white painting but I don't think I'll finish it anytime soon.
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Where did you go?
The way I draw the twins' faces has changed a lot. They started with softer features and somewhat neutral emotions, because I wasn't as familiar with them or comfortable drawing them yet. Now there's hundreds of submas sketches, and they still keep evolving! My style is also kinda hard to pull off well, so their features differ from picture to picture.
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This one was inspired by some submas music videos, can't recall their names anymore. The glowing eerie eyes and yellow&orange + black&white color schemes were neat!
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I keep telling myself I need to draw more butlers, these twinks look so lean and neat and have more color and are posh with their monocles and have fun tailcoats!
(...why eyeglasses are not called binocles??)
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I was there for the vinegar chaos. Good times!
That's all for now, I hope you got something fun out of this! Still got loads more art to share but I'll save them for another time. Next round I'll bring in my first submas comic!
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redclercs · 1 year ago
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DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.
vii. all of my enemies started out friends
— the one where you get the sense you've been betrayed.
warnings: death threats, foul language, a panic attack. 2.7k words. (+written articles) not proofread whoops.
masterlist ✢ next
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By Alana Blake
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WELL, all of our doubts have been cleared, here is the reason as to why our ex favorite couple called it quits months ago. Thank you to our anonymous source for spilling the tea!
First things first, let's not lie to ourselves, we all thought it had been Aidan Kim who had finally dumped y/n's ass for good. But as it turns out, he wanted to keep her forever? Aidan, boy...
Anyway, one night in February (ehem Valentine's Day, so cliché) he dropped down on one knee, popped the question with a beautiful Tiffany's ring and... Y/N SAID NO! Insert gasps here.
Without a good enough reason to justify her denial, y/n immediately ran to the opposite coast, where she currently resides with best friend, beauty guru and influencer Victoria Presley.
RELATED: Victoria Presley inaugurates first 'Presley Beauty' store in Beverly Hills.
Our source also confirmed y/n's blooming romance with Formula 1 pilot, Charles Leclerc.
"They are seeing each other, yes," the source said, "y/n doesn't want to call it a 'thing' since she's probably going to get bored of the poor guy.''
Well, there you have it. It looks like y/n's only talent is being a maneater. Somebody warn Charles Leclerc he's just piece of meat in the eyes of y/n!
SEE ALSO:
→ Victoria Presley attends the Monaco Grand Prix.
→ y/n y/ln reportedly auditioned for 'The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes'
→ Aidan Kim is currently recording his first solo album.
𝙂𝙊𝙏 𝙎𝙊𝙈𝙀𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙏𝙊 𝙎𝘼𝙔? 𝙇𝙀𝘼𝙑𝙀 𝘼 𝘾𝙊𝙈𝙈𝙀𝙉𝙏 𝘽𝙀𝙇𝙊𝙒!
You're seeing the top comments.
Anonymous – 4 hr ago
If I ever see y/n on the street i will literally kill her
sk12z8io – 3 hr ago
I KNEW SHE NEVER DESERVED AIDAN
mickeyyy – 40 min ago
she fucking cheated you cannot convince me otherwise
chiqin– 10 min ago
oh she's vile, rejecting a marriage proposal and getting together with another dude two months later? TRASH.
Anonymous – 10 min ago
I want to know who the source is and why are they speaking until now
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WHO would have thought? y/n y/ln the "Queen of RomComs" where cheating is basically a Deadly Sin, is in fact, a cheater!
The news about y/n rejecting Aidan Kim's marriage proposal came out only a few hours ago via Inside Out, and while they claim y/n didn't have a good enough reason not to get engaged to Kim, we believe quite the opposite.
Having a side-piece is a perfectly good reason, actually. Sources, who wished to remain anonymous, confirmed that at the time of the proposal, y/n was already seeing Monegasque pilot Charles Leclerc, but they had been able to keep it a secret until Elix contract made y/n start showing up at Grand Prix.
Although the information spreading around is still unclear, we can be sure of two things: Aidan Kim dodged a bullet and y/n is probably the worst person on Earth.
#Y/NIsOverParty
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June 3rd Barcelona, Spain.
You're sitting with Charles and Carlos when you get the first ping on your phone. You don't give it much thought, Mildred told you she'd send you two script excerpts she wanted you to practice for an audition video, plus your phone doesn't even really stop ringing.
Spain has been fun so far, you have been around both Carlos and Charles around a lot lately. Carlos is always keen on dropping facts about his country and you got, just like with Charles, his special edition Ferrari merch. This time you wear it, because fuck fashion podcasts.
Charles doesn't let this slip, feigning annoyance that you prefer to wear a Spain cap than a Monaco one, and telling you he will in fact take it personally. But he doesn't, of course, he's thrilled you're more comfortable around both of them. Enough to join them for dinner yesterday and today.
The Ferrari boys are talking about FP3 and how Qualifying might go later. They've done pretty well this weekend, and you're hoping Carlos will end the Grand Prix on the podium like Charles did last week.
"Is that your phone?" Carlos asks, he's tried his best for the last few minutes to ignore the never-ending flow of notifications, even after you've silenced it, the vibration still makes him lose focus on the conversation.
"Sorry," you wince, knowing how annoying it is. "It's probably Vic."
"Everything okay?" Charles frowns, following your hands as you take your phone out of your pocket again to activate the Do Not Disturb.
"Yeah, I don't—"
Your sentence hangs in the air unfinished as you read the screen, the last notification comes from Matilde an 'are you okay? call me' text. And then your eyes slide to the BREAKING NEWS from People Magazine, whose notifs you forgot to deactivate. You don't even know why you have the app anymore.
The preview shows your picture, a red x on your face and the words 'Cheater Alert' capitalized and bold.
"y/n?" you see the motion of Carlos' hand from the corner of your eye, but by now, you're obsessively scrolling down the 150+ notifications on your phone. Texts, calls, e-mails, tweets, comments.
You stop in the INSIDE OUT EXCLUSIVE the moment your eyes catch the word 'ring'.
They know.
And if they know, everyone knows.
Charles pushes his chair back, making the half empty styrofoam cup of coffee you were drinking spill all over the table. "What's wrong?"
Aidan has told them. Aidan fucking Kim, petty and vengeful Aidan Kim has told them about the ring. Because he wants to bury you so far down, you'll never be able to claw your way out of the hole.
Who else could have been? You told no one. Not a soul. How can a person not even tell their parents that she got a marriage offer and said no immediately, right before hopping on a plane to the other side of the country?
But cheating? Where the fuck did that come from? He's even lying now. Because he hates you, of course he hates you. Aidan Kim is not used to humilliation and that's what you did when you rejected him. And although it was an unspoken accord that you wouldn't tell anyone about it, he has done so, because what is better for his upcoming album than being the heartbroken artist with the bitch for an ex.
People are going to write 'It's your loss y/n!' with their proof of streaming for a retweet from Aidan's account, managed by a 34-year-old guy who can't stand Aidan's fans on a normal basis.
"I– I have to–" your mouth is dry, tongue thick and heavy, and you feel the cold shower of anxiety from your nape to your tailbone. This can't be happening.
And you don't know what you have to do. Call Mildred and Walter? Ask them what the fuck is going on over there and start an actual damage control PR thing? It's too late for that.
"What can we do?" Carlos questions this time, worry flows in his voice at the change in your semblance. "What can we do for you?"
You're scared, because people have talked shit endlessly for weeks thinking it had been Aidan who dumped you, changing the narrative, twisting it time and time again.
They have suspected you broke up with Aidan, they have dragged you through the mud, called you heartless for getting over him so quickly. Paired you up with Charles and called you both problematic for breathing around each other and being friends.
And they might have forgiven you eventually, but not if you actually broke Aidan Kim's heart and burned down his dream of a house, a marriage and a happy family. And by cheating.
He's lying, but who would believe you?
Your already agonizing career is never coming out of this. And at this point, maybe acting seems irrelevant compared to the way people are going to treat you from now on. No one forgets a woman who humiliates a man so publicly. She doesn't deserve to be forgiven, not when she's such a bitch.
"I can't breathe," you wheeze, clutching your hand against the fabric of your shirt. Your hands are prickling, and your brain is fogged, foreign. "I can't breathe."
Neither man touches you as you lean down, hands on your knees, shutting your eyes so hard you think your eyeballs might explode.
You feel one of the boys move, but you don't open your eyes to see who left. Your priority is getting air into your lungs, and you can't seem to do even just that.
"y/n," Charles is the one who stayed, and despite speaking slowly, you recognize the underlying panic there. "I'm going to touch you, okay?"
Your only response is a strangled noise as you breathe through your mouth.
Charles runs his hand down your back, you can feel his rings and the heat of his palm. “Try to breathe through your nose, y/n.”
He feels stupid for saying it, but it’s the only advice he sees fit. Carlos left to look for the medical staff that Ferrari takes with them everywhere.
You squeeze your thighs with your hands and again take a gasp of air. “I can’t. Help me, I can’t.”
Charles makes you straighten up by grabbing your shoulders gently. “Please try. You’re speaking you can breathe.”
You breathe through your nose, but it isn’t enough to relieve the pressure on your chest.
Carlos comes back just when you feel like you will pass out. And you let the medical staff lead you away, leaving both your friends behind, worried sick and wondering what could have possibly triggered you like that.
You're still lying in the gurney after Qualifying is done. The medical team doesn't let you watch it, you should not be subjected to strong emotions right now. The thing is, the strong emotions haven't even started. You need to talk to your team, and you want to talk to Aidan. You've only heard from him twice since your breakup in February, the last time three days ago when he texted you 'out of SoHo'.
In all honesty, you're not certain you'll be able to hold a conversation with him without telling him to go fuck himself or having another panic attack. But you must know the reasoning behind his actions, no matter how stupid it is. How angrier it will make you. You want to understand why the person that once loved you is stabbing you in the back like this.
You're free to go an hour later, and it's some kind of miracle that you're relieved of your Elix duties. Maybe it has to do with the disaster that Ferrari's Quali was, in contrast to the Free Practices. No one wants to make things worse, or have pictures to remember it.
By the time you're back in your hotel room, Aidan's campaign has been transported to Youtube. And it's only 10 am in Los Angeles.
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FROM AIDAN KIM’S YOUTUBE CHANNEL “STATEMENT ON RECENT NEWS”
You are looking at the top comments.
star5dan he had to find out he got cheated on thanks to People? fuck
flowerbedkim I'm not even joking, i will end y/n
dropbeats1 it takes a lot of courage to propose, y/n is def a bitch
stardomyn you knew y/n for years and you can't defend her? she is obviously not a cheater.
aidanyn this keeps getting worse i can't pick a side😭
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You read the articles sitting in your bed. Legs crossed and back curved, with your shoulders slumping forward. It's like you have the whole weight of the world back in them, and you're not even sure you're strong enough to carry it anymore.
Did you really not have a good enough reason to say no? Not having a good reason to say yes should be enough, at least that's the way you think about it.
But you had many, many reasons. Some you'd denied yourself to even think about before he pulled the ring out of his pocket.
Every relationship has its ups and downs, you knew that. You know that. But how long can you stay in an all time low?
Maybe you lied to yourself saying Aidan had never hinted marriage was in his plans. He mentioned it in interviews, and in casual conversations with other people. He would tell you that “in the future” you’d have to reconsider being an actress. That you should really think about the roles you wanted to take on so they didn’t haunt you (and you hypothetical children) in the future.
Aidan would drop comments about how you should stick to the easy parts of acting, making the same movies, for example. How you should behave a certain way and shut your mouth in specific occasions.
How you had to change yourself to fit into what he wanted.
And you did. Because at first, it wasn’t that he wanted you to change for him. He made you think he wanted you to change for your own good.
And that night in February, you realized you were scared. The thought of spending the rest of your life like that terrified you. So you ran, and that was really the bravest thing you could have done.
And the bravest thing you can do now is stand up to him. Because he cannot keep on stepping on you and destroying what you built for yourself.
"Hello?"
You're shocked he actually picks up your call but you can't back down now.
"What the fuck, Aidan?" you try not to raise your voice, you do your best to help the strain that comes from not crying. You're furious, not sad, but you know Aidan won't recognize the difference. "What the fuck is this whole circus you're putting up now?"
The way he chuckles makes you want to throw your phone across the room.
"Do you really think that was me?" he asks, changing his voice to a lower tone. "Do you think I willingly say the girl I invested three years of my life on said she didn't want to marry me?"
"Well who else could have been? Do you think I'm stupid?"
"It was not me, y/n! Jesus Christ I don't know how many people—"
"So it was your sister, that bitch?"
"Don't you call me sister a bitch ever again."
Well Mia Kim is a bitch. And she was for the whole three years you dated Aidan.
Starting with telling anyone who would listen that you were after Aidan for clout, even after you hooked her up with your acting instructor and helped her get a minor role in Outer Banks. Comments on your appearance, on your acting, and the way you Aidan and you got along. And the worst part was that every time you two saw each other she acted like she adored you.
"She is a bitch, Aidan, and this is something she would do out of spite! Also, cheating? Are you fucking kidding me?"
"I don't put anything past you, y/n." Aidan chuckles again, it's sarcastic and bothersome.
"Fuck you, Aidan. We knew each other for years, and suddenly I'm the worst person on Earth?"
"Yeah, maybe you always were and whoever is letting people know is doing the world a huge favor."
Your skin isn't thick enough yet, and his words hit the way he intended.
"I'm glad people are eating you alive, y/n," he continues as your silence prolongs, you can't swallow the tears now. "It's what you deserve."
He hangs up before you can respond, and it doesn't matter anymore. There's nothing you can say to make him admit to his crimes, and he's happy. He's happy you're being torn down in such a vile way.
The phone inside your hotel room rings and you pick it up before being able to pull yourself together. The 'what?' that lashes out catches the woman downstairs off guard, and this is another thing you add to the list of things that make you the worst person on planet Earth.
"Someone is here for you, Miss y/ln," she says in an apologetic tone, "Mr. Leclerc?"
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to speak to you like that," you take a deep breath, and then process her words. "Leclerc?"
"Hmhmm," she hums, "Should I send him upstairs?"
The alarm clock next to the phone shows 19:57 in red and you remember you agreed to meet him and Carlos for dinner at seven thirty. You didn't even shower or changed.
"Uh– yeah, please do."
You splash cold water on your face and brush your teeth in the two minutes it takes him to get to your room.
Charles knows there's something wrong the moment you open the door, and it doesn't take a genius, really. But you wish he was oblivious to the way you look and the off-putting energy you give off.
"I'm sorry I'm late," you say making space for him to enter the mess of a room you have. "Is Carlos waiting downstairs?"
"He's at the restaurant already," Charles shrugs, it doesn't matter that you've made them both wait over twenty minutes. "Are you okay?"
You sit on your bed, letting him stand in the middle of the room, like a mannequin out of place. You have two options, lying to him, pushing everything under the rug and lookin for your purse to meet Carlos downstairs. Or tell the truth and burst out crying in front of him.
You don't like either.
So you stay silent, looking at patterns in the rug and trying to get your racing brain to come to a stop, if only to have a decent meal with the two guys that saw you panic hours ago.
Charles sits down next to you, the mattress gives to his side, sinking. "Do you want to talk about it?"
You eye his hand as he places it on top of the washed out knee of his jeans. The prominent veins and the three rings on his fingers. You remember the way it felt when he ran his hand down your back.
"I don't." you reply, taking your eyes back to his face. You wonder if he knows, just doesn't want to mortify you about it. That he's 'just a piece of meat' and a 'homewrecker'. You wonder if Carlos knows too.
"Do you still want to come downstairs?" Charles tilts his head, giving you a smile that lifts one corner of his mouth.
"Sure, let's do that," you get up from the bed smoothing your jeans down although there's nothing wrong with them, and regaining that self-consciousness that you didn't even change your clothes for dinner while Charles is looking like that in a clean white shirt. "Sorry for being late."
Charles lets you roam around the room looking for your purse for two minutes, still sitting on the edge of your bed, before speaking again. "We really like you, y/n. I really like you."
You snap out of your self-induced trance, pretending like you were checking you had everything you needed in your purse. "What?"
"Carlos and I really like you, and so does Matilde, and that friend of yours Victoria. You're not alone, I hope you know that."
He's seeing right through you again.
And the effort that took you to pull yourself together and the self-deprecating words that ran through your head to force yourself not to cry in front of him are all left behind, as you burst out crying.
You let Charles hold you, his right hand on the nape of your neck while the other soothes you the way it did earlier. He doesn't complain about the way your tears stain his shirt, and doesn't even make a sound as you sob.
And you stay like that for as long as you need to, although you haven't cried nearly enough. It has to suffice for now. Because you have to go back to L.A. and fix the mess Aidan created.
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─── team principal radio: ❝i feel like i'm doing rowoon super dirty by having him as aidan kim, tbh. anyway, i hope you enjoyed this chapter! reblogs and comments/asks are highly appreacited, i'd love to know your thoughts!♡❞
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