#34th look

[renaissancetourfashion]

Beyoncé in Ivy Park for The Renaissance World Tour MOTHERBOARD ACT - Amsterdam, 2023

[musubiki]

.🖤🔄🤍.

[cute-brainz]

The most important girl in the world!!!

[riacte]

so hey guys i finished dungeon meshi yesterday and i'm still thinking about it

[ryanthel0ser]

FINALLY I CAN SAY IT AGAIN

DAYS 14-18 OF DOING AT LEAST ONE DOODLE A DAY UNTIL MAPPA TREATS ITS ANIMATORS RIGHT

yes I am still three days behind but I wanted to get the Gojo doodles out for his birthday <333333333333

[luluxa]

[charmabrasion]

boshi's place 2025 calendar

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

writers when they’re proofreading their works for the 34th time *find zero mistakes, there’s no typo, no grammatical error. everything looks good. hit the post button*

writers when they’re reading said works after they’ve been published like proud parents *find 52 mistakes at first glance, 38 typos and 14 grammatical errors with a bunch of inconsistencies and plot holes*

[michaelgabrill]

Hubble Celebrates 34th Anniversary with a Look at the Little Dumbbell Nebula

In celebration of the 34th anniversary of the launch of NASA’s legendary Hubble Space Telescope on April 24, astronomers took a snapshot of the Little Dumbbell Nebula (also known as Messier 76, M76, or NGC 650/651) located 3,400 light-years away in the northern circumpolar constellation Perseus. The photogenic nebula is a favorite target of amateur astronomers. M76 […] from NASA https://ift.tt/SZ7C4XV

[kurooh]

⊹₊˚. it’s kento’s birthday, and you’re spending it in malaysia, by his side.

⟡ 18+ content (mdni), fem! reader, fluff + smut, creampie, beach sex, squirting, pussy eating, & he wants to marry you. everyone say happy birthday to nanami <3

“kento!” you scream, laughing as you run straight into the waves, the ocean water warm and inviting.

his loud laugh comes from behind you as he chases after you, practically sprinting to catch you in his arms. the sand shifts beneath your feet, shells glinting from beneath the small waves and then disappearing as the tide falls back.

kento’s happy to finally be in malaysia, the place he’d dreamed of going to since he was a little kid. what’s even better is the fact that this is his 34th birthday, and you’re spending it here, with him. the beach is beautiful, with its golden sand and clear, enticing water. it makes the perfect spot to propose to you, he thinks.

you squeal when he catches you in his arms, the both of you laughing right before the wet sand becomes unsteady beneath his feet and you both tumble to the ground in a heap. a small wave crashes over the two of you, and you both grow quiet upon realizing the position you’re in — you’re straddling his waist, small hands pressed into his big chest, you in a bikini and him in some trunks.

“ken,” you murmur, and kento’s already tugging you forward by your shoulder, kissing you deeply as he holds you close.

one of your hands slips behind his head, fingers pushing into his wet hair and pulling ever so slightly as his tongue presses between your lips. teeth begin to clash against teeth as you both become a little rougher, more eager — then he’s flipping you over, positioning himself on top of you.

“ken, i don’t wanna do it in the water..”

“mmm, i didn’t either.” kento pulls you up, appreciating how pretty and pliant you are for him as he positions you on your hands and knees. “is this comfortable, angel?”

you nod, tossing him a hooded eyed look over your shoulder as he slides off his navy blue trunks, tossing them onto the dry sand so they don’t get washed away. after all, he irresponsibly tucked a little box with a ring in the pocket, hoping to propose while playing in the waves. you reach back and yank your bikini bottoms to the side, wiggling in anticipation.

kento grips the base of his large cock, gently rubbing his tip between your sticky folds before spitting on his cock and slicking it up.

“are you ready?” he confirms, one hand on your hip, squeezing at the plush skin.

“of course i am, kento.”

and with that he’s pushing inside you, cock stretching your pussy out and filling it up at the same time. a broken moan leaves your lips as water splashes against your hands and forearms.

“you’re always too tight,” kento grunts, though he’s absolutely not complaining. “shit, i’ve been dreaming of this..”

he draws his hips back before plunging inside you fully, groaning as his fingers fumble with the bow tied knot of your bikini top. the bikini slithers off your chest, but he catches it before it falls into the water and tosses it towards his trunks.

“bein’ in malaysia, or fucking me on the beach?” you suggest breathlessly, whining loudly when he leans forward, sweeping a hand across your stomach before he reaches your chest.

“being in malaysia with you, and then fucking you on the beach,” kento clarifies, snapping his hips forward sloppily as he grabs and squeezes your tits hard. both of your nipples are pinched between his large fingers, sending a sting of pain and a shock of pleasure straight to your clit.

the heat all over your body only grows as he fucks you, building and twisting right in your pussy more and more with the way his cock head’s hitting all the right spots.

“oh, kento!” you exclaim after one particularly hard thrust that has your knees weakening and sliding in the sand, “you feel so good, i-i need it faster, please!”

“anything for you,” kento’s head falls back and his eyes close as he fucks into you as fast as he can. he releases your tits, letting them bounce and slap together as he opts to grip your hips for support.

“fuck, nghhh— god, i can’t get enough of you,” he feels his cock thicken and throb inside of you and knows he’s not too far from filling up your pussy, so he removes a hand from your hip and nestles his hand between your thighs. then his fingers find your clit and he starts to rub at the swollen bud, using your wetness for some lubrication.

a small wave crashes into your arms again, splashing onto your tits and making them grow sticky with sea water. your back arches, and you turn your head, looking over your shoulder to admire him. his hair is wet and sticking to all sides of his face, chest gleaming with some droplets of seawater, and his face is twisted in pleasure as he fucks you and furiously rubs your clit.

“k-ken, you’re gonna make me—” just as he pinches your clit the way you like it, his cock tightens inside you and he falls forward, chest pressing into your back while he wraps an arm around you tight.

“ken, ‘m cumming— cumming, feels so good, ah!” your pussy clenches down on his cock tightly, attempting to milk every last drop of cum from him all while you squirt hard onto his cock and pelvis.

kento pushes deep, pouring hot cum inside you as he groans, snatching one of your tits into his hands and squeezing hard. “mmmh.. god, i’ll never not cum fast when i’m fucking you.”

whimpering, you jiggle your asscheeks against him, and he slowly leans back with a smile. “i love you, angel.. i’m so thankful you planned this whole trip for my birthday.”

“happy birthday, ken,” you say dazedly, biting down on your bottom lip as he gently pulls his cock from you, and the hateful emptiness settles into your hole.

as you attempt to stand up on jelly legs, a large hand presses firmly into the small of your back. behind you, kento settles on his knees, lifting you close to him by your thighs as though you’re a doll.

“k-ken, what’re you doing?” you stutter, pussy clenching the second you feel his hot breath fan onto your sticky clit.

“cleaning up this mess,” he murmurs, affectionately using his fingers to collect the mixture of his cum and your squirt dripping in a long strand from between your folds. “i’m absolutely not letting this go to waste, god. not when you taste as good as you do, shit.”

he languidly drags his silky, rough tongue up and down your hole and clit, corners of his lips curling into some kind of smile when you whine in need. “d-don’t tease me like that, god..”

kento ignores you, licking the wetness from your clit and then sucking the remnants of your squirt from your inner thighs and surrounding areas of your pussy. as you clench down on nothing, desperate for his tongue, most of his cum starts to flow out of you thick white globs, collecting at your clit in droplets and threatening to fall to the sand below.

just as you’re about to get upset at the lack of proper stimulation, kento wraps his lips around your cum covered clit and sucks hard.

“kento! your t-tongue’s so fucking good, i need more, please!” your fingers squeeze into the sand, mouth falling open in pure bliss. loud, panting moans leave your lips thoughtlessly as he pulls your pussy closer to his mouth, licking everything up.

“princess, it’s my birthday.” kento reminds you as he pauses to catch his breath, “and i think i want this to be my celebratory cake.”

[arminsumi]

★ 'Cause I'm Sagittarius

Pairing : Gojo / fem reader

Synopsis : birthday boy Gojo Satoru unwraps and enjoys his gift — which is you!

Warnings : 🔞 MDNI/18+ content, riding, some hair pulling (him), light size kink, deep penetration, f*ngering, f*replay, cr*ampie (reader is on birth control)

Content : smut, birthday sex, some pining/love sick Satoru, some plot

Note : this is my happy birthday to this man 😗✌️

The glitter on his skin shimmers under the chandelier light. There's confetti stuck in his hair, which has been ruffled up throughout the night. Crimson and burgundy lipstick kiss marks decorate his face and neck, but he wipes them off when he sees you arrive.

Gojo Satoru certainly didn't expect to see his high school crush at his 34th birthday party. You're the one he used to be obsessive and desperate about when he was 17. Unbeknownst to him, Shoko invited you — she had to practically beg, because you lived so far away from Tokyo. Shoko convinced you after telling you how much Gojo Satoru still blabs about you to this day.

You completely steal his attention without realizing. Your oblivion charms him even more.

But each time Satoru tries to reminisce with you and bask in your company, it only lasts a few minutes because he's stolen back by the smothering crowd.

And then for the first time in years, he feels annoyed to be the center of attention.

Can everyone disappear except for her; I just want us to be alone together.

Someone gives him a plastic crown at some point in the night. It adorns his snowy head it until it falls off while he's dancing — and wow, Gojo Satoru dancing is a spectacle.

The way he moves his body to the music captures your attention and you stare.

You and him make electric eye contact. He sends a wink your way and you bite your lip back to him. It takes him aback and he stutters on the dance floor. Just this small, wordless interaction between you and him — even though you two haven't seen each other in years — is enough to excite him and get his heart pumping harder.

He pries his dance partner off of him, half-heartedly apologizes to her, and then desperately follows after you as you get lost in the hazy crowd.

Satoru finds you, he looks sweaty from dancing. He grabs your arm, mutters a breathless hey and asks if you want to go somewhere quieter with him. So you giggle and agree, taking his hand and letting him lead you out of the heat of the party.

Clutching his gift, you acknowledge the pile of presents that are piled up in the foyer. It makes your gift seem pathetic, but Satoru's eyes glitter when you give it to him and he pockets it as if you've gifted him your heart.

Just flirting and talking back and forth with you for a bit makes his cock harden. He can feel each inch slowly grow and press against his inner thigh, making a prominent bulge in his tight suit pants.

"Sorry I didn't bring you a good gift..." you say.

Satoru gives you bedroom eyes, then replies with, "But you brought yourself..." he rasped, "How about I unwrap you?"

⁕⁕⁕⁕

Trapping you in a heated, sloppy make out, Satoru slithers his tongue past your lips and groans into your mouth. You've lured him upstairs.

His pale, veiny hands slip under your dress and massage your thighs and hips, inching up until the bottom curve of your ass shows.

He leads you down the empty hallway, and desperately opens the door to his bedroom by pressing his back into it, never breaking from your lips as he pulls you in with him.

You gasp when he finally relieves your tension by rubbing the heel of his palm into your pussy. His big hands cup and squeeze it.

Satoru's jaw juts a little as he sucks a mark onto your neck. You lace your fingers into his hair and squeeze your thighs together. His dick throbs when you start begging him to rub your pussy.

Lowering your panties until they rest mid-way between your thighs, he gathers your juices on his fingertips and rubs up and down your puffy clit for a bit before sinking his middle finger into your pussy to stimulate your G-spot.

You pull on his hair and he moans, "Fuck, pull my hair harder."

Now this is the attention he actually needed tonight. Your fingers snuggling into his white hair and pulling on it while he snuggles his fingers in your slippery pussy.

Satoru stretches you out on his fingers and toys with your G-spot until you're trembling. Then he withdraws before he starts working up your orgasm.

When you try undress yourself, he stops you.

"I'm the birthday boy and you're my gift," he smirks, "Let me undress you."

And he starts undressing you like he's unwrapping a present. Satoru's nimble fingers peel off your dress and panties and unclasp your bra. His touch is cool against your hot skin.

He drifts his fingers up the middle of your back with a touch so light it's ticklish. It's on purpose, to make you shudder and tense your back into an arch.

"You're really g-good at this..." you breathe.

"Yeah, I know. It's 'cause I'm a Sagittarius." he replies smugly.

He unbuckles his belt and slides it off.

⁕⁕⁕⁕

The party is still ongoing, and guests are craning their necks and darting their eyes around in search of Gojo who just suddenly disappeared with you.

Satoru wants you to ride him; he begs like a spoiled prince.

"Come on, please, I wanna see those hips bouncing on my lap." he coos.

His eyes light up when you agree to ride him. The next request the birthday boy has is if he can do it raw, and he doesn't expect you to agree so his jaw drops open when you nonchalantly agree, telling him to go ahead and cum inside too if he wants because you've got birth control.

Soon you're bouncing up and down on his bare cock and he's relishing in the sight of your body jiggling. He tilts his head back and bites his lip, hungrily feeling up your breasts and your back.

"Faster." he groans, "Don't get sloppy now. Keep bouncing those hips on me or I'll do it myself."

When he feels his orgasm build up, he grabs your hips harshly and takes control.

"Fuck, Satoru!" you gasp, melting against his broad chest, cheek squishing against his pink nipple.

He pounds his cock into you at an angle that turns your brain to mush and slurs your speech. You hiccough and curse, feeling his big cock's tip rubbing deep inside you.

"Oh my god," he chuckles through a moan, "That pussy's so clingy. You're driving me insane, baby."

His muscular thighs hit your ass, his tight, full balls slap against you as he goes as fast and hard as he can. "That's it, just lay on me and take it."

"I'm so close, gonna cu—mmm! Cumming, 'mmm cumming, Satoru!" you scream. Good thing the party downstairs is so loud.

He groans and gets off to watching you orgasm on his cock. You cross your eyes, feeling his dick rubbing so deep makes you cum like a slut.

"Fuck, I'm cumming too. Take it." he grunts, fucking you hard but holding back his true strength.

It feels like his breath runs out when he cums. He gasps so dramatically and spurts out a huge load of cum deep into your hot, tight pussy. His toes curl and he pinches his eyes shut, while his lips naturally stretch into a slutty O shape.

You slide off his sensitive cock and whimper, feeling so empty after getting stretched open so much.

Rolling off each other's bodies, glowing, panting like you've run a marathon.

He hardly looks roughed up like you do; his hair is tousled from the sex, yes, but his skin glistens and glitters with sweat and body glitter, giving him this ethereal beauty. He has to close his eyes after cumming so hard and so much. His balls feel empty.

Satoru lays with you for a while, massaging your sore parts with his big hands.

"I'm so glad you came tonight." he says cheekily. "Wanna go out for coffee sometime?"

© arminsumi

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

[renaissancetourfashion]

Beyoncé in Ivy Park for The Renaissance World Tour MOTHERBOARD ACT - Toronto, 2023

[musubiki]

recently thinking about how it might be useful to incorporate some kind of face covering into witch attire..

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Good Omens graphic novel update: May 2024

Happy 34th birthday to Good Omens - published in May 1990. We don't need any extra reasons to celebrate Aziraphale and Crowley, but we're always happy to find some.

Admin

Thank you to everyone who has completed the PledgeManager so far; as mentioned, this will be open through 2024 into early 2025 to complete. A few key queries that have arisen in the past month:

I ordered via Kickstarter, but when I go onto PledgeManager, it is setting me to Human Tier and/or asking me to pay again. Please check the email that you are using on PledgeManager. The email to access PledgeManager must be the same as the one you used on Kickstarter for the system to connect your account to the order; if your email is not showing a prior order, please try your other emails, or drop us a message from the account you pledged on (and are, presumably, reading this from!) and we can confirm the email address linked to your pledge.  

I have been charged twice for shipping. What do I do? We have raised this with PledgeManager, and they say it is a known issue that can occur via Stripe, but it is easily fixed. Please contact support@pledgemanager.com with information on your order, and note that your shipping has been charged twice, and their system can verify this and process the refund swiftly and easily.  

I need to change my address. How do I do that? We have left the option to update your shipping address open on PledgeManager and will do so for as long as possible. Per PledgeManager, here is a step-by-step on how to change your address: Return to your survey (which you can also do by visiting my.pledgemanager.com and using the ‘Forgotten Password’ option if needed) and scroll down on the receipt page. There, you will see the below button. After clicking that, you will be taken to the first page of the survey and will just need to click through to the shipping page. On the shipping page, you can use the ‘Create New Address’ button to enter their updated address. 

If you have any further issues or queries, visit the central FAQ page as your first port of call.

Good Omens items...

The desk at Good Omens HQ is slowly filling up with prototypes, the latest of which appears to be as popular as Aziraphale and Crowley, and for good reason. We are, of course, talking about the ducks. Here's an early version of the duck mug:

We've got some early prototype designs of the trading cards too. Illustrator Steve Gregson has begun work on the base card deck illustrations, to be unveiled in future, and designs for some of the variants are fully underway. Here are some early samples of graphic novel variant cards from Colleen Doran, and Rachael Stott's Crowley:

The base packs (Hellhound+) currently include 80 cards, and have caused quite heated games with those who have test-played it so far on their attempts to thwart (or indeed cause) the apocalypse. Hellhound+ backers will also get a booster pack alongside the main game. Rarities for sharing at random in these orders are shaping up nicely too. Hoping to share some of the base pack design imminently.

If you've been wondering what your other alternative cover choice is, alongside Rachael Stott's (Serpent+), then wonder no more: here is Frank Quitely's take on Aziraphale and Crowley, ready to shine on your shelves.

Update from Colleen

We often end with an update from Colleen, whether that's her art, or her shots from her studio. However, we thought it was about time we invite Colleen to update you herself, so we are handing the rest of this month's over to your ineffable artist for a glimpse inside the process of making Good Omens. Enjoy.

---

As you may imagine, I’m having a wonderful time working on the Good Omens graphic novel. The Dunmanifestin team asked me to pop in and give you a look at my process.

The task of adapting a beloved novel into graphic novel format is a complex, wonderful sort of pressure cooker. Even without the well-publicized complications I got smacked with over the last year, it promised to be an intense, time-consuming project.

The graphic novel is about the book and not the show. Getting Michael Sheen and David Tennant out of my head was quite a task. I’ve seen it dozens of times and I adore it, but I to had devote a lot of time to re-reading the novel and listening to the audiobook to clear my head of them. 

The few times I allowed myself to watch the show again screwed me up a bit. So, I won’t watch it again until I am completely finished with every drawing. Maybe a view-a-thon will be my reward for finishing the book. 

But I’m getting ahead of myself. There’s still a lot to do, so let me show you it.

Before we knew the Kickstarter fundraiser would do well, the graphic novel was to clock in at 164 pages. After the good news of the Kickstarter success, I got permission to take the story to 200 pages. That meant a major rewrite and redraw on some dozens of thumbnails and layouts.

And you guys are getting a much longer book.

Not complaining one bit. I was so happy to get more space to give breathing room to the ending.

Anyway, here's a look at my workspace.

To the left is my laptop computer with the script. The laptop is connected to my graphics computer via ethernet, and all my reference is on the main system, from which I share files.

On my older projects, I dutifully printed out every bit of reference. I think this is the first project where I’ve done all reference and organizing on my MAC.

As you can see, I draw comics the old-fashioned way – by hand – and there is my script on the computer.

But I do all the coloring on this project on the MAC. I know some people hate Photoshop, but even if I wanted to switch, I don’t have the time to dive into a new system.

That entire box with all the narrow drawers in it you see there contain Good Omens pages in varying degrees of completion. Finished pages are at the bottom with layouts, pencils, and partial inks toward the top. The middle drawer contains templates, French curves, and a ruler.

The box isn’t fancy art studio equipment. It’s just a Childcraft brand puzzle storage rack. I realized a long time ago the heavy wooden bookcases, puzzle racks, and construction paper storage made for children’s classrooms made great modular storage for professional art spaces. It’s solid as a rock, heavy so little children can’t tip it, and I can move it and rearrange my space however I like.

The final art is drawn on 11”X14” Strathmore 500 acid free Bristol.

I do all my prelims as tiny “thumbnail” sketches, some in ink, some in very loose pencil. I keep them organized in this Levenger notebook. The thumbnail paper is both Canson brand, and Blue Line Pro, and both are acid free. Blue Line Pro is good for ink, but Canson is better for pencil because it has more tooth. I usually use Canson.

Using the Levenger hole puncher, I perforate my pages and keep them organized in a Levenger Circa system. It’s pricey, but I love it. There are other brands far less expensive, however.

The ruler shows how tiny the thumbnails are.

If the storytelling is clear at this small size, then it will be clear in the final.

I redo quite a bit as I go along, as you can see from the sequence below.

From thumbnail:

To pencils:

Since I did multiple rewrites, adding a large section at the end and popping in earlier scenes I originally had to skip, this meant redoing almost all the page numbers about 4 times.

Nearly went barmy.

I use the construction method of drawing, as you see. This is an old-school technique. Some people seem to assume that artists always use computers and tracing for their drawings, but most cartoonists of my generation work extemporaneously. There’s quite a bit of noodling around and searching in the sketches. Using too much reference often results in stiff, dead work.

In comics, it’s very important to make sure you’ve considered word balloon placement when designing a page. The script for Good Omens is more copy-heavy than most modern comic book scripts because I want to preserve as much of the clever original language as I can.

Here I scramble about working out the word balloon space allowance.

Here’s a deeper look at the process for page 2 from thumbnails to final color.

Now here is where things get a little weird. What you’re about to see is a process called flatting.

If you color a comic without first flatting the art, you are consigning yourself to many extra hours of labor and frustration.

Flatting is a way to tell the computer to select areas inside the black lines so that whenever you click on that particular color, you can paint inside that area perfectly. Since the computer only understands 1 and 2 - or on and off - when you tell that computer to stick to that area, that is what it will do.

There are computer programs that you can use to create your flats. I use Multi-Fill. The results are uniquely ugly, but they get the job done. Here is what that looks like.

Absolutely hideous.

But pretty much all I have to do from this point on is click each block of color and change it to whatever I like. The result is this:

I also experimented with selecting areas of the line work as color holds, but I’m getting into more complicated color technique than we may have time for at this point. But from here, I can start painting.

And the painting stage looks like this.

Since I wasn’t entirely sure exactly how I wanted to approach this color style, I took screen shots of some of the changes I made as I went along. In the shot at the left, I’ve given Aziraphale’s heavenly self a golden glow by using a color hold on the line. But I found it needed more contrast to make his figure pop, so I darkened it in the next shot.

I use the computer to create the initial flats, but I either do the final flats myself, or I have help from Julmae Kristoff and/or Dee Cunniffe.

The flats are (usually) not intended to be part of the final work. They are a technical tool.

For example, here are the original, computer-generated flats for one scene in Good Omens.

And here are the secondary flats by Julmae Kristoff.

And here is my final color work.

Since I’m running behind on the book, I’ve brought in Dee Cunniffe to do some extra color work. He is a wonderful colorist, as well as an excellent flatter. I’m not sure to what extent I’ll be handing pages to Dee at this point, because I’m very controlling, and I want to make absolutely certain there are no stylistic anomalies in the art, and I want all the Crowley and Aziraphale pages for myself, is that too much to ask?

I use Faber Castell Pitt Artist pens for my inking. I sometimes use an old-fashioned crowquill as well, but Faber Castells are easier to control, and the ink uses real pigment instead of dye like many markers. All of my originals are created with longevity in mind: acid-free and lightfast. I want the drawings to be fade-proof.

And that is a quick tour of the work so far.

A thousand thanks to Neil Gaiman and the Dunmanifestin team for their incredible kindness and patience, and that goes double for all Good Omens supporters out there. Your indulgence is appreciated more than I can adequately express. I am truly sorry to have been the cause of the delay in the book, but I can only make it up to you by doing my very best.

And that is what I am doing.

BTW, many years ago, I found a little yellow duckling who was getting beaten up by the other ducks, so I saved him and took him to my home to live until my parents adopted him, since they had a nice yard and a pond, and I didn’t.

He had a birth defect and could not fly, which is probably why the other ducks were pecking at him.

He got to stay in the family house, and eat goldfish crackers, and swim in the tub. Eventually they built him his own house. We called it the Duck Majal.

He lived for ten years.

I named him Fred because I’d been watching Breakfast at Tiffany’s when I heard him quacking for help that day we met, and Holly Golightly’s brother was named Fred.

So, here’s to you Fred.

Until next time.

[weirdbookweeb]

more Simon Riley (Ghost) Headcanons

cause he's just so damn pretty (and i accidentally took a nap until 9pm, so I got time, honey.)

He is a big fan of dark liquors. Whiskey, Cognac, Bourbon, Scotch. He got introduced to it from a former superior officer and got a taste for it. He always takes it on the rocks, and drinks it slows. He has a few bottles stored up in his room for special occasions.

He's got a crooked smile, and it's the sweetest thing. He's been in combat for years, so he's bound to have some damage to his face. Because of it, he's got an uneven smile. He doesn't smile a lot because of it. But when he forgets to be insecure? Oh my, does his smile bring unsuspecting people to their knees.

He liked to watch old-school, black-and-white foreign films with his grandparents when he was a kid, so he has a soft spot for them. He learned a bit of french watching french noir style films, and loves watching old Hollywood movies (He calls them foreign because he's British.) Miracle on 34th street is one of his favorite Christmas films, but only in black and white.

He never ends a phone call with his s/o without saying some version of "I love you" or "I'll come back soon". The habit started when he was going on a mission and you were working and instead of ending the call immediately, he had waited a few moments before quietly whispering into the phone: "I promise I'll come home to you, darling."

He really doesn't like cauliflower and canned green beans. Like, even just seeing them makes him gag. He cannot stand them. Canned green beans ate a common staple in the military and he hates them with a burning passion now. And he just hates the taste of cauliflower (because he says it has none).

He is an advocate for well-fitted clothing. He doesn't care if it's trendy or not. He cares if his pants fall to the right length, if his shirts fit nicely around his arms, and if his pants are sitting at the right place. He hates seeing people wear the wrong fitted clothes while trying to wear the proper fit and ending up looking scruffy. It's his only fashion hill he will die on.

[someonegoood]

MY WHOLE LIFE pt. 1 ✫ mason mount

part 1, part 2, final part.

in which you have a fat crush on your brother’s best friend, without getting much success. (brother’s best friends troop).

CONTAINS: brother’s best friend troop, angst & fluff ! age gap, arguments...

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this is my first work here but anyways i hope you guys like it ! maybe I'll do a part 2...

You watch proudly in his shirt as you clap in the game's first minutes, chanting while taking pictures of him.

The first half was pretty equal, with some shots from both teams but neither could score. You could see that Mason was getting nervous. He stopped his movements abruptly when the referee called for a corner and looked at the crowd, his eyes sparkling with tenseness.

He gazed down at where his family (and therefore also yours) was and licked his lips. You couldn't help but wonder what would your brother think of your little —huge— crush on his childhood best friend.

In the 34th minute, he passed the defenders and tried to score with a pass from Ben Chilwell, making the goalkeeper lose his balance and thus scoring.

You celebrated the goal screaming it to your brother's face and he couldn’t help but smile at you, happy that you were having a good time. Your cheeks were red after Mason approached the stands and celebrated the goal, dedicating a kiss to where you were.

And that was the effect that Mason Mount had on people, especially you.

Mason was your brother's best friend, you had known him for years. It was a stupid crush that all your friends grew out of but not you. You had to keep drooling every time he was near you, that being almost every day because your brother had him over to dinner nearly every night.

You remember the day the Mount family moved next to your house, a loud and proud British family— Debbie and Tony, Stacey, Lewis and Mason. The day after they had moved in, Debbie and Tony turned up outside your door, asking if your older brother was interested in playing football with Mason.

It didn’t take long for your brother to become close to Mason, both at the cusp of boyhood. Their friendship only bloomed from there.

After spending almost every weekend watching your brother and Mason training, to spending most afternoons around the Mount house playing, you felt like family.

You always found yourself drawn to the boy next door although he was away a lot of the time, playing different matches and training. Mason’s natural affinity and talent for the game, ensured the quality of his skills.

He was slightly older so no doubt he found you childish and would always moan when his parents made him spend time with you.

—Mom, not again! I don't want to play with her, she's boring! —Mason exclaimed with an expression of obvious annoyance on his face.

Mason's mother was the first to figure out your crush on the boy. She first noticed it when you joined the Mounts at a family dinner when you were around thirteen.

Both families were playing football, as usual, while the adults were preparing supper. When you had the ball you felt your body lean way too far back and Mason tried to act on impulse, stretching his body to catch you in time.

—Hold on to me! —Mason exclaimed, extending his arms towards you. However, the weight of the fall was too much, and in an instant, they were both on the grass, in some sort of mess.

—Mase, God, I'm so sorry! I dragged you with me! —you apologized, feeling the blood rise to your cheeks, turning them crimson red.

He brushed the grass off his jacket with an angry expression. —Well done. First minutes into the game and you're already annoying.

—Thanks for trying! —you laughed, shyly. When there was a long silence, you realized that Mason was not joking and was serious. —Sorry, I…

Debbie looked from afar at the little girl carefully while she kept her eyes glued to her son's. She watched her cute little cheeks tinted red as Mason scoffed and begged you to stay away from him.

Debbie would soon get used to it as she watched you fall in love with her son over the next few years.

Until your first boyfriend. An age difference of three years was not a big deal since it was a common factor among your friend's partners. You had recently turned sixteen years old and you thought that you had met the boy who could take you out of the charm that had her wrapped around Mase.

Lyon was older, he was eighteen years old, like Mason. You had met him at school on a spring afternoon. You walked through the school hallways, books clutched to your chest. A gust of wind caused some of the books to fly out of your hands, scattering them across the hallway floor.

Lyon was passing by and noticed the scene. He approached you with a smile and that is how the story started.

Your brother didn't approve of your new boyfriend. He knew that her sister just wanted to show his best friend that the age difference wasn't that important.

Being with Lyon was great at first. You knew that he was not the love of your life, but for the moment he seemed to play the role quite well, so that was fine with you. It was a Friday night and you and your brother were at a party at the house of one of your brother's friends.

You were downstairs in the kitchen while your friends watched you drink alcohol like there was no tomorrow. They realized something was bothering you, but decided not to mention it.

—Where is the lover boy anyway? —Spoke one of your friends.

Your lack of response was when they realized that Lyon was the reason for the sadness that was painted on their best friend's face. He abandoned you, once again. This seems routine, they thought.

You slammed your empty red glass against the kitchen counter, wiping the drip from your chin as you decided that was enough.

—I'll go look for him.

From the corner of the room, your brother wished you good luck and with courage, you stumbled through the party. The house was huge. Enormous windows covered the entire house. From the kitchen window you could see the river of lights going down to the beach.

And there he sat, on the stairs leading to the illuminated outdoor pool, Lyon. A thin blonde girl was sitting on his lap, probably older than you. She took the cigarette from Lyon's lips and placed it on top of her painted red lips.

Tears welled in your eyes as you returned to the house with your heels in hand. With all the bad luck in the world, as you returned, you heard in the background:

—Baby, relax. —You ignored your boyfriend's call as you made your way through the crowd to return to the kitchen, hoping that your brother was still there.

You made it to the kitchen before your boyfriend grabbed you by the back of your arm and pushed you against the kitchen island.

—Come on, I didn't even do anything—

—She was on your lap.

—It's not that serious, okay?—

—It's a big problem! I'm humiliated! —You shouted back, creating a scene you desperately wanted to avoid. Lyon's grip tightened around your arm as he tried to wriggle out of your grasp.

—Let go of me, you're hurting me. —That only made his grip tighten around your arms.

—Let her go, mate. —Your vision was too blurry to focus on what happened next, but you felt Lyon back away.

—Oh yeah?… and what are you going to do about it, Mount? —That's when the punches were thrown and Lyon was left hunched over holding his split lip. Your now ex-boyfriend was grabbed by someone else before he could lunge at who you assumed was your brother, but when you turned your head you saw Mason shaking your hand out of pain.

His knuckles were red and his eyes were darker than what you were used to.

—Let's go to the car. —Said Mason, you nodding your head. —Get in the car. —He said. His tone was strong, not what she was used to.

Still, the ride to your house was silent, you sitting in the front with Mase, while your brother passed out in the back seat. Faint English music played on the radio as Mason's eyes were firmly fixed on the road.

Mason finally spoke. —You really don't know how to choose them, don’t you? — You could only sob again, unable to answer him mainly because he was right and you were ashamed. When the car stopped, he unbuckled his seat belt and murmured that he would walk you to your door.

Mase rocked on his heels as he watched the moonlight highlight the tear-stained cheeks of his best friend's sister. He thought you looked beautiful that night even though you had been crying for the last half hour, your hair hadn't been brushed, and you were digging through your purse like crazy.

Although he would never admit it.

—I got them! —You laughed, waving your keys in the air before bumping your nose with the keychain. You paused as you pushed the key into the door, turning to look Mason in the eye for the first time since the party.

—Thank you. —Mason didn't want to hear it. You were just her best friend’s sister.

—It's no big deal. —

—No… really thank you, Mason. —you smiled and Mason listened too, mainly because it was probably the first time you had called him Mason and not Mase.

After a moment, you dropped your bag to the floor and wrapped your arms around the boy's waist, your head resting on his chest as he quickly moved his hand and rubbed your back.

—Just... make sure the next one isn't a complete idiot, yeah? —he whispered, his chin resting on the top of your head.

That sentence broke your poor little heart.