#forced coming out au

[moonshynecybin]

i feel like maïna sent me an ask/prompt about. SOMETHING. like this for forced coming out au genuinely so long ago but i can’t find it for the life of me so perhaps i simply made that up. anyways here’s a short fic set in that universe about them dealing with the panopticon. and in fact being pda whores in the panopticon. bon apetit

“There’s a photographer over there,” Marc whispers in his ear, breath warm and close. He loops his arms around Vale’s neck as he says it, sounding nonchalant, but Vale knows him better than that by now, can see the tension tucked in his shoulders, hidden in the carefully collected smile on his face.

“Hmm.” He replies, amiably, nosing at Marc’s cheek. They’re in the paddock and they’re together— of course there’s a photographer on them. There’s probably seven photographers on them. Par for the course in years past, but especially these last couple of months.

And Vale’s always believed that if people are going to look, he might as well give them a show.

He lifts a hand and flips Marc’s cap off of his head, setting it down backwards so the brims of their hats arent competing. Marc’s face catches the sun, and Vale leans in to kiss where it hits the jut of his cheekbone because he can— because it’s what he would do, if they were actually together. If Marc was a girl. If any of this had happened the way it was supposed to, for people like them.

His stomach clenches, involuntary. He thinks he can hear the click of a camera firing. Good.

“Now he can see me.” Marc complains, leaning closer. He tries to hide behind Vale, using their height difference to squeeze himself into his shadow, and Vale laughs, tugging at where his hair is starting to curl behind his ears, where Marc’s skin is smooth and warm.

“It’s been a few weeks— We should probably give them something to see.”

“It has.” Marc agrees, sneaking his hands down now, snaking them inside Vale’s jacket and under his shirt. “We should.”

Vale yelps, curves his body inward reflexively. They’re like ice.

“That’s cold!” He pulls a face. Camera flash.

Marc ignores him, cackles an evil little laugh into the fabric of Vale’s shirt around his collarbone. Vale lets him, wraps an arm around his shoulders and leans back in, making sure Marc is the only one who can hear. It’s their preferred mode of communication these days— close, edging on the line of plausible deniability. His lips catch on the delicate skin of Marc’s temple as he speaks, and they’re in public, so it’s okay to keep them there.

“Karen from PR asked the next time we are available, so we can, ah, do another date.”

Just a few months ago this would all have felt like a minefield, but when he raises an eyebrow —a question— Marc just nods easily. Understanding without words. They’ve been getting good at this part, after everything, all the press and performance and years on track, years in each other’s beds. In MotoGP, you have to be adaptable, able to read another rider’s move, know how they’re going to take a corner almost before they do— and there’s a reason Marc and him are the best at what they do.

“We’re in Phillip Island next week— do you want to try out that place we went last year?” Marc responds, voice lower a little more reserved. His fingers edge under the elastic of Vale’s waistband. His hands must really be cold.

Vale nods, even as his chest clenches, resentment and something less empowering spiking through him. Last year. Right at the end. Phillip Island.

Not a good memory.

He lays a hand to Marc’s neck, thumb hitting the hinge of his jaw. Tilts him where he wants him. Marc goes— like he always does, moving easily with him, body pliable everywhere but the track. His brown eyes focus in on Vale’s face, intent. Unsettling, if you know how he catalogs information, if you know how what sort of instincts he has on the bike— shoving in beside Vale on track without a thought. Risking a bit more than Vale’s ever been able to comfortably stomach.

But Vale’s always thrived in high pressure situations, under attention, and the way Marc’s eyes laser on him only makes him settle. Makes him sharper. Clearer. Hot danger zipping under his collar, shivery and sweet. He wonders what Marc will let him do, out here in the middle of the paddock, with a photographer on them.

Marc’s hands flex, where they’re pressed under Vale’s shirt, like he can understand what Vale’s thinking, that same uncanny ability to predict a move rising to the surface. His nails scrape a little, dragging along the skin of Vale’s lower back.

“Let’s do that.” Vale says. He doesn’t really remember what were they talking about. A date, he thinks. Marc all to himself.

Alone.

The careful attention of Marc’s eyes drop to his mouth, then once, quick, over his shoulder. The photographer. Right.

The show.

“Okay,” Marc says, eyes searching Vale’s face, uncharacteristically serious. Contemplative. Like he’s thinking about something. Vale raises an an eyebrow, but before he can say anything the look on Marc’s face condenses, and he leans up to kiss Vale sweetly, open and a little messy.

And this has always been the thing that’s worked most between them. Easy and magnetic. The push and pull. The perfect picture.

And then Marc’s pushing forward, deeper, licking into Vale’s mouth. Kiss skewing dirty, dirtier than they usually get nowadays, making Vale’s pulse jump— a dare. How far are you willing to go? it asks, that same impudent instinct he has when he’s diving up the inside of Vale’s race line coloring the kiss, and Vale answers.

His teeth bite at Marc’s bottom lip, exercising a little more control, and he crowds forward, using his height to push Marc’s head back, hand splayed on the edge of his jaw. Directing him, coaxing him. And Marc relaxes like that, back arching into Vale as the kiss extends. A surrender.

Vale’s got him where he wants him, and he doesn’t want to leave. He wants to lift a thigh, get Marc pressed up high and tight against him, wants to drag him off to his motorhome, see how far Marc is willing to let him go, wants to—

Another camera shutters, louder, closer, and it breaks the thread between them, bringing them back to reality. To why they’re here. Vale clears his throat, and Marc ducks his head.

Suddenly Vale’s chest hurts, feels cracked open with Marc tucked up against him, nose edging inside his jacket to find some warmth against Vale’s collarbone. So solid and warm and real. The only way Vale gets to hold him anymore is like this, for the cameras.

Love you, he lets himself think, probably for the first time. Love you, he doesn’t say. The camera shutters, and he pulls Marc closer into the well of his body.

[mari-lair]

[starry-bi-sky]

on a completely separate note; shizun luo binghe with a disciple shen yuan who fell into the abyss??? *thinks about LBH canonically stealing SQQ's corpse for 5 years* he'd hallucinate i think. like, like visual and audial hallucinations.

Keeps thinking he's seeing SQQ in the corner of his eyes, or wandering between the trees, amongst a group of disciples. Thinks he hears him calling for him, but its just the wind or another disciple.

Gets Xiu Ya reforged but patently fucking refuses to make a sword mound. Because his disciple Is Not Dead :))) There was No Body. He's Not Dead. And If You keep Insisting That He Is, He's Gonna Skewer You :). He's holding onto Xiu Ya so he can return his most favored disciple's sword when he returns. It's on his hip right next to Zheng Yang where it's supposed to be.

Also this motherfucker?? does not sleep btw. He has the image of SQQ, wide eyed and hysterical and standing at the mouth of the abyss burned into his fucking eyelids. Can't use the dreamscape to escape it either because he keeps trying to save him and either he does and it's an incredibly cruel trick to wake up to, or he doesn't and he gets his heart broken in several different pieces again.

There is no convincing this man that Shen Qingqiu is dead. Absolutely nothing at all. He is buried so deep in denial that moles would be jealous of how deep he is. He keeps making tea for two in the bamboo house only to remember that it's just him. SQQ's fans are hiding everywhere, little reminders of his presence. He goes to wake up SQQ on the mornings he sleeps in-- only to find the room empty.

[mooneggtarts]

Say hello to Jumping Spider AU! Where Orange DIDN'T get to talk it out with Alan and was dropped to the Outernet. Where TDL got into another massive fights with TCO much more early that got them seperated before Orange was created and the whole Virabots thing (TCO kept the house. But only cause TDL refuse to live in the same house as he is)

TDL is convinced that he doesn't care about TCO, or that now he's alone, he doesn't need anyone! Until some Orange kid with the same head as him crashes onto him. Literally. Fate seems to hate him (or pity him?)

[13mary-gold]

PART 5

Part 1 | Part 4 < Part 5 > Part 6

[ryssbelle]

Brozone reunion concepts for this little thing based on this ask

As stated in the ask idk fully how this moment would go, this concept was mostly building off the premise presented within the ask :D

Bonus:

[moonshynecybin]

In fco verse when journos do motogp journos things and ask awkward questions like, you said marc was reckless dangerous blah blah, has your view changed or do you still consider it so. How does vale react because it's funny if he says less kisses in bed because now it's true or if he defends it's a reality check for him

this is interesting because i think those little jokes are like. key to the overall thesis on vale’s relationship to the press/media and how he protects himself. funny little deflections are the BEST way to avoid a question because they’re funny ! people like them ! no one is offended and you don’t even have to answer a question that you don’t want to answer… and i do think. mister Gen X addicted to lighthearted gay sex jokes MAKING one of those jokes and seeing eight million stories (i will say that their irl gay sex jokes already have a bunch of news articles god BLESS) that actually and forreal reference his gay sex life is like. weird for him. i mean he loves PDA (they both do lmao) and showing off a hot partner and making outrageous statements about his sex life (max biaggi penis interview. mile high club. etc.) but that doesn’t MATTER. that doesn’t chip at the tender little place inside him that turns over every time he sees marc smiling, soaked with champagne, below him on the top step of the podium.

it’s also. and this is maybe less fun but i stand by it !! one of his little ways to still assert power over marc i think. like especially if he’s still in competition with him, especially if his ego is threatened or he feels really vulnerable about the whole thing which i think he DOES but is ignoring like a champ. like YES this story is about him coming out with marc in order to sort of. shield him from that bullet of being forced out of the closet, but that doesn’t get rid of his weird rivalry complexes. that doesn’t stop him from wanting to win against marc. that doesn’t stop the aforementioned bullet from hurting. so idk i think it takes a minute for him to let go of some bad habits ! and maybe that minute includes a sexy sort of realization that marc winning reflects well on HIM as marc’s PARTNER. and a lot of positive reinforcement via postrace sex

[fudgecake-charlie]

you're never gonna see me this active again i'm afraid. the brainworms are taking me over (60% chance of even more DE portraits coming up)

[maluceh]

mini matilda au that @daiziesssart planted on my head

[funkyplantguy]

grian gets saved by hotguy and then pines over him <3

so this "au" (if you can even call it that when it exists exclusively in my brain and now in this ask) is mostly crack and comes from me joking around a couple days ago with some friends so...don't take it too seriously. that being said...

-

you have (3) new comments! view now?

click.

areeongreenday: hey! so this is insane.

click.

h0tguysnumber0n3fan: i guess i kind of understand where you're coming from with this - scar goodman and hotguy do share a similar sense of humor, and i sort of see what you're saying at 47:03 when you compared their voices (more specifically, the inflection they use on specific words) but...i guess i'm having a hard time imagining scar as a superhero. don't get me wrong - he's plenty cool, but...didn't he say that he's a full-time content creator now? i don't know that he'd really have the time to record, edit, and post videos on top of saving the city on a near-daily basis. interesting theory, though! admire the dedication.

click.

scargoodman: ;)

and there it was, taunting him - that damn winky face, yet again, commented nearly instantaneously each time grian uploaded a new video about the man itself. scar goodman - known to many as the man who had risen to sudden fame in the video essayist community with his charming good looks and boisterous personality. scar goodman, whom grian suspected was secretly none other than the city's beloved superhero. after all, they'd both made their debuts within a week of each other and shared not only a similar path of success but a similar sense of humor, a similar speaking style, a similar body type, a similar laugh...sure, there were things that didn't quite line up, but...for the most part, they appeared to be the exact same person.

okay - maybe grian was a little obsessed. but what was he supposed to do, not point out the obvious?

what made matters worse was that nobody seemed to believe him. no matter how many videos he posted, no matter how much proof he gave...nobody was willing to hear him out.

nobody except scar goodman himself, who seemed intent to drive him absolutely insane.

grian grumbled something to himself, pocketing his phone and continuing down the long, narrow sidewalk to his apartment complex. he'd lost track of time at work yet again, and as a result, the sun had long set. this wasn't unusual for him - he often opted to remain late in the office to "finish up a few things" (ie take advantage of the functional wifi his workplace offered instead of trying to upload videos on his crummy home network), so he was...fairly comfortable tracing the path back to his apartment in the dark of night. the street lights in this part of town didn't work exceptionally well, but with the familiarity of it all and the dull light of the moon, grian typically fared well enough.

tonight, however...well, call him paranoid, but...something felt...off. something about the way all the buildings around him were dark, indicating that their inhabitants were either asleep or out (and entirely unreachable if grian were to call for help). something about the absence of the various stray cats that he often crossed paths with. something about how the complete and utter silence made his ears ring.

"aw, what's this? a cute guy? well, pretty boy, you've just entered the wrong part of town at the wrong time. unfortunately, loose lips sink ships, or...uh...however the saying goes, so...sorry, i can't let you leave this visit alive."

before grian could even register the words being spoken (where were they even coming from?? above him? below him? behind him? everywhere, all at once?), he felt hands gripping the back of his shirt. in another moment, he was on the ground, his breath clawing its way out of his chest. above him stood a figure, shrouded in darkness and the billowing, starry cape draped across their shoulders. in their hands was something glinting, something sharp, something deadly -- something that grian's frazzled, spinning mind was unable to put a name to. or maybe it refused to - refused to name the tool that would be his doom. maybe it was better that way, he mused idly, as the figure raised it high above their head. maybe it was best to not know.

"hey! there you are - what did i say about running off?"

and just as quickly as he'd accepted his death, the threat of it was gone, vanquished by the appearance of the tall, costumed man on the rooftop adjacent. grian felt his breath return to his chest in one fell swoop, filling his lungs and sending a wave of sensitivity to his throat. he coughed, hard, tears welling helplessly in his eyes, and the newcomer's attention snapped to him in an instant.

"oh - and you've made a friend! how nice. unfortunately, there are no plus ones in prison."

"hotguy," grian's would-be murderer snarled. "i thought i'd lost you."

"nah. i may have gotten lost, sure. but you didn't lose me. there's a difference."

"you'll wish that i'd lost you when i'm through with you."

"oh, that was lame!" the man cried, hopping over the low rooftop wall and landing neatly on the ground below (how he did it, even grian wasn't sure. by all intents and purposes, his legs shouldn't have that level of shock absorption, even if he had been fed some chemical cocktail by a mad scientist at a young age as he boasted). "listen - we've got to get you a better catchphrase."

hotguy strode forward, his eyes glinting behind his tinted visor. he glanced to grian out of the corner of his eye, then back to the villain - then back to grian again, his mouth going slack in surprise. grian met his gaze - took in his appearance - and let out a bark of laughter, one not missed by either scar goodman or the cloaked figure in front of him. scar returned his laughter, throwing his head back and planting his hands firmly on his hips.

"well, what a coincidence," he giggled, after a moment. "my new catchphrase just so happens to be "subscribe to my youtube channel."

"what?" their third demanded, glancing between the two. "what are you talking about?"

"oh my god. there's no way. there's no way. how - how am i the only one who knows? how am i the only one who suspects?? it's obvious - it's so obvious."

"what's obvious?"

"i know, right? i make it as obvious as possible, and still...still, nobody puts two and two together. well...nobody except for you, apparently. i guess that you're just...special."

"why don't you just come out and say it?" grian mused, propping himself up on his elbows and ignoring the sputtering from their newly acquired third wheel. "i feel like if you said it - either as scar goodman or hotguy - people would have to believe it, no?"

a strange look came over hotguy's face, but it vanished as quickly as it had arrived.

"ah...i don't think that would change anything. plus, i have this thing with this cute guy where he tries to tell everyone my identity and i egg him on to get him to make more silly videos. i would hate to give that up."

he winked, and grian felt warmth climb his cheeks. gone was the fear, gone was the panic, gone was the darkness and the creeping, crawling sense of unease - instead, there was only curiosity, burning brightly in his chest. he wanted to talk to scar - hotguy - for hours, wanted to pull the object of his obsession apart to see what made him tick, then put him back together again, just to see what would happen. he wanted to get to know who hotguy was underneath the suit - and who scar goodman was with the suit. he'd wanted (he'd wanted for so long) and it felt like maybe...just maybe...he'd get to have.

"hey! what the hell is going on?"

"oh, right," hotguy chuckled, turning his attention to the third member of their party. "sorry - didn't mean to ignore you. here - sit tight, for real this time. the police will be here soon."

"dude, i'm just going to leave again. do you really not have handcuffs or something?"

"who needs handcuffs when you have a cub to design fancy gadgets for you?"

"a...a what?" the figure asked, then yelped, startled, as something exploded out of the cuff on hotguy's wrist. a net, affixing itself neatly to their body, wrapping them up in a cocoon of their own folly. grian stared at it, humming in approval.

"nice."

"thank you! it's new."

"i know."

"i bet you do," scar responded, and grian flushed further at the teasing edge his tone took on. "i bet you know almost everything about me, at this point. obsessed, much?"

"i could say the same," grian huffed back, pulling himself to his feet and brushing off his jeans (there was a rip in one leg, now, he noticed with a frown). "you recognized me, like, immediately. it's pretty dark out, too - sounds like you're the one obsessed."

"what can i say - you're pretty and smart. i happen to like my men pretty and smart."

grian sputtered incoherently in response, all confidence gone out the window. oh god - he was even more charismatic in person, even in costume. and god, was the costume more attractive in person, as well - baggy cargo pants and a tight, fitted top that exposed his tanned midriff. not the most tactical, sure - but damn was it hot.

"you can't say that," he moaned, covering his reddened cheeks with his hands. "oh my god. i hate you. i've known you for five minutes and i already hate you."

"sure you do," scar responded, grinning. "i - oh, hold on."

he raised his hand and tapped the earpiece affixed to the side of his head, concentrating. after a moment, he sighed - and for just a second, grian thought that his shoulders drooped in exhaustion. as quickly as they sagged, however, scar was straightening, turning back to grian with an easy smile.

"sorry, handsome, duty calls. are you alright to get back home on your own? i doubt this guy will be giving you any more trouble. those nets are pretty sturdy."

"wait!" grian sputtered, his heart hammering painfully in his chest (no, no, he couldn't let scar slip through his fingers, not now, not when he was finally so close). "don't go - i...can i see you again?"

scar's smile wobbled around the edges, and any panic grian felt was replaced with guilty - heavy and suffocating (though he wasn't sure why)

"ah...isn't it more fun, this way? don't you like the chase? isn't that exhilaration enough for your pretty little head?"

"i mean...it's a fun hobby, yeah, but -,"

"then we'll stick to the status quo. after all, i'd hate to rob you of your favorite hobby. goodnight, grian. can't wait for your next video."

and with a wink, he was gone, disappearing back into the shadows so quickly grian could have sworn he was made of them. and grian...well. he had an apartment to get home to, a cat to feed...and a chase to continue. and maybe, someday, if he was fast enough...he'd catch up.

[amogus-real-not-clickbait]

oopsie forgor to post this!!

part 4 of my little debut to carrot soup :] !!

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | ..? |

this is all i've got for now! ive been low on motivation recently so im just kinda. trying to find something that sparks anything in me,, but i may draw more panels for this, who knows! my carrot soup appreciation days certainly aren't done soooooooo

(pssst. in case u forgor or didn't know. carrot soup is this really nice really sweet good nice fic series on ao3. by @crowned-ladybug. here it is pls check it out if u liked my little visual interpretation !! )

oh yea btw i hid an amogus in this one heheee ඞ

[arolesbianism]

I received a vision and had to doodle it immediately

[premamelody]

2 am and my brain said "make a uty au where clover locks in and rolls a nat 20 and actually avoids flowey in his subconscious long enough to have an entire party of strong feelings and memories from him"

like it said "what if we kinda like cogdis'd meta flowey wouldn't that be so cool"

[ryssbelle]

Poppy for N2 au, it took me so long to make her design cuz I didn't really know what I wanted to do only because I feel like her design is pretty perfect.

But then I just thought about fun outfits to give her or outfits that I would find comfortable if I was wearing them and it all came together.

Poppy here is pretty much the same as here movie counterpart, as nothing really changes on her end of things other than having more insight on Branch through his brothers, and through Lief. Shes also a bit more understanding a bit earlier on because of it but it doesnt do much to change her own character arc I would say.

Bonus

Part of Poppys design was based off a design I had made for previous rulers of Troll Village/Tree

Namely Queen Protea who I designed as Poppys grandmother

Named after the Protea flower which part of her design is based off :D

In the context of this Au Protea was the one who conceptualized the tunnels while her son, King Peppy, was the one to follow through after her death

[moonshynecybin]

thinking about forced coming out au… you two were so smart for that honestly

THANK U today i am thinking about them in the current motogp climate.... with marc goin against pecco post-arm nightmare and vale kinda having to juggle that. cuz i DO think in this universe that theyve done a lot of work to present themselves as a unit and subsume their egos/accomplishments into one another by this point (in this universe theyve been together EIGHT YEARS.... PUBLICLY... so its very if i win you win and vice versa etc. power couple.), BUT theres a very sort of. direct temptation for vale here wrt to a protege stepping to marc like this. and the desire to see marc succeed (and come back from injury.... which truly i think that entire period with marc miserable and in the hospital and then the diplopia re-occurrence scared him SO bad. and marc is finally smiling again, but a BIG part of vale would be at peace if he never saw him swing a leg over a motorcycle again. now will he tell him this. NO. marc owuld not listen lmao) IS kinda warring with seeing marc do crimes against his little babies. all that anxiety about safety multiplied on both sides of the equation. and the press is asking for his take about their battles eighteen times a day cuz hes skulking around the paddock haunting marc's every step like some sort of victorian ghost. so hes maybe a lil tense a lil distant... still there to blow marc's back out but hes working through some valentino-style marc neuroses as he often is, so its. odd. not a rough patch, but vale likes having a hand on the scale and anywhere he places it now feels like a bit of a betrayal so its COMPLEX...

and then with MARC. lmao. like okay pecco and marc WOULD know each other a lot better here just like ranch-wise, but is marc letting literally anyone get in the way of a championship bid ever NOOOOOOOO. and suddenly pecco (used to the somewhat friendly criminal shenanigans of the ranch) has marc divebombing him off the line every weekend in a grand prix for realsies and is like AHHHHHHHH and then they climb off of their bikes in parc ferme and marc is like hi :) and then lopes over to pecco's section to high five gigi and smooch vale

[blondeaxolotl]

Hiii I just want you to know I adore your red butler au and have been waiting to see more specifically about grelle as a demon butler in it, headaconons and stuff so hope you'll go back to that one day!!

Aww I'm flattered, thank you!! 😭

Red Butler Au is like my first black butler au so I'm flattered to know people still like it, I don't doubt I will come back to it eventually. It's just that I cannot control whatever I'm hyperfixating on so it might take me a while to get back to and have my focus on it again

But since I do not know when that will be, I decided to quickly doodle the red butler and her lady as a quick little treat for your patience