#i hate this! 👍🏻

[formulaforza]

lunch date- m.schumacher

pairing: mick schumacher x reader word count: 700 a/n: blegh

You loved your job. At times, it was the only thing that you felt like you had control over in your life, a constant in a vast ocean of chaos with an ever changing current. You could do without the early mornings some days, especially on chilly winter mornings when you forget to start your car before leaving or the coffee maker takes a crap or you forgot to change the laundry and your favorite pants are still soaked in the washing maching. All those things were trivial in the grand scheme of things, though. Work was great. Great coworkers, great bosses, great facilities, and great work. You knew with a hundred and ten percent confidence that you had set yourself down the right path all those years ago before graduation. 

You loved your job, except when Mick was visiting. When your boyfriend, who was long-distance even when he wasn’t travelling to races, was sitting in your apartment all day being all cozy on the couch and cooking meals in your kitchen and playing with your dog, you resented work. 

I miss you, you would text him more when he was visiting than when he was away. It was almost harder, knowing he was right there and you couldn’t stay in his company, stay in the warm bed, watch your favorite movies on the couch and eat the food only he could make taste good. 

You’ll be home soon, he would always reply because he knew if he said I miss you too, you’d be halfway home before the message even went all the way through. 

The phone in your office rang a little before lunch and you answered it without second thought, mid-email, only half-focused on the voice on the other end. There’s a delivery for you in the lobby, the front-desk associate spoke, and you promised to be down shortly to pick it up. You hung the phone back on the line and returned your attention to your email, finishing the task before you stepped into the elevator. It was on the ride down you’d realized how strange a request it was. You never have anything delivered to work, and when you do, they always bring it to your office with any company mail you’d received. You’d never had to go to the lobby to pick up anything outside of a food delivery before. 

He’s waiting for you in the lobby–jeans and a cozy sweater and carry-out from your favorite lunch spot. He’s lingering at the front desk, making small talk and laughing at one of the receptionist’s jokes and charming everyone to death, just like always. “What are you doing here?” You ask as you approach, his head shoots in your direction and his smile flips from a polite purse to a genuine grin. 

“I brought lunch.”e holds up the bag like a proud little kid. 

You eat together on the bench on the sidewalk outside. It’s the perfect temperature out and the sun is shining and the air smells like the fresh bread from the bakery that’s a few buildings down the street instead of the stuffy recycled air in your office. 

“You remembered my order,” you smile sweetly at him, pulling out the to-go box of sushi and setting it on the bench between your bodies. He digs into the bottom of the bag, retrieves two white paper sleeves and pulls the chopsticks out, hands a pair to you. 

“I know all your orders.”

“Don’t get cocky, now.”

“I do, I have them all in my phone.” You laugh around the chopsticks. “What?”

You chew hard, hurried, swallow part of the bite and hum his question away. You cover your lips, shield him from the contents of your mouth while you finish chewing. “Nothing.”

He shakes his head, knows you don’t believe him, wants to show off his word. You watch him dig his phone out from his pocket, tap the screen a few times before he’s showing you a note in your contact card. He has probabably a dozen different restaurants and their orders typed out. “See?” He says, proud and goofy. 

“That’s really sweet, Mick,” you tell him. “You’re adorable.”

“I know.”

[tapakah0]

[goatyuuji]

This single panel alone can bring any man down to his knees…

[ineed-to-sleep]

I just absolutely adore how much love was clearly put into bg3. I just finished the game and as I was skimming through the credits I stopped to read some of the thank you messages ppl left for their loved ones, their families, their DnD groups, their pets, and for the ppl they lost in the past few years, and I was bawling my eyes out and am still tearing up honestly. This was clearly a labour of love and it's so heartwarming to see ppl being able to bring to life something that is so dear to their hearts

[little-pondhead]

the worst battles happen at 11:37pm when you have to frantically google what kind of spider is staring at you from the depths of hell behind the green beans while keeping an eye on it because you have to know if it’s a brown recluse or a wolf spider because that determines if you need to nuke it or not with spider spray

If it’s a brown recluse, you cry and kill it without mercy

If it’s a wolf spider, you cry and give it your house keys until morning

[arialebenthal]

this has been sitting in my drafts for 2 years because i know i'm gonna get hate mail about it. oh well. this is for you, RTD truthers

[marudeinusa]

I will be truthful about my feelings I think dunmeshi fans are a little delusional about the canon status of farcille. If it's reaching a point where you talk about some random Japanese man as being pesky and repulsive for "falling for a lesbian" and treat him like the irl instance of guys pursuing open lesbians... its gone much too far.

[sophiemaryjanes]

first part of a poetry series based on the 15 fears! this is "anthology of oceans", inspired by the lonely and its favorite apocalypse boyfriends 👍🏻

[blueshistorysims]

May 1929, Edinburgh, Scotland

Now in her ninth month of pregnancy, she felt more like a whale than a person. She was always exhausted, always out of breath, feeling miserable and sickly. When they had returned from Greece in March as an anniversary vacation, Montgomery had put her on bed rest, worried about her health, but when he wasn’t home, she got out of bed. She couldn’t lie still for hours. 

Their tiny guest room had been converted into a nursery, decorated to her liking, so she often spent much of her time in there, admiring the little toys, waiting to meet her baby. Samira was quite ready to get the baby out of her. She was sick of being pregnant.

Samira suddenly felt a sharp pain in her chest and stomach. She groaned as a brief contraction passed through her body. Was she going into labor? The pain intensified, and her heartbeat grew faster as her eyesight became blurry as she stumbled to the floor, clenching the rug. Samira panted rapidly as she looked down to see her water had broken. There was something terribly wrong. 

The house was eerily quiet when Montgomery opened the front door. He’d gotten used to Samira playing music on their gramophone in their bedroom, the sound carrying downstairs. He set his bag down and frowned. It was too silent. Perhaps she was taking a nap. Lord knows she needed it. 

“Samira?” He called out, stepping into their kitchen. 

Silence. 

“Samira?” He asked again, raising his voice as he quickened his pace toward the stairs. Nap or not, she was a light sleeper. She would’ve heard him by now.

The door to the nursery was slightly ajar, and in the crack, he could see a head of black hair. Montgomery slammed the door open, throwing himself onto his knees as he grabbed his unconscious wife, panic seizing his body. 

“Oh fuckin’ god,” he whimpered, checking her pulse and sighing in relief when he felt one The logical doctor and the emotional husband warred in him as he noted the blood soaking her skirt and labored pains of breath. She was still in labor. 

“Montgomery?” Samira asked weakly, opening her eyes.

“Samira,” he whispered. 

She groaned. “I need this baby out of me, it hurts so bad, it hurts so bad,” she cried before slipping into her native language. It sounded like she was praying.

“I ken. Yer crownin’ now, it’ll be over soon.”

“I don’t want to die.”

“I won’t let ya. Ya won’t die, even if I have to choose ya over the bai-” He broke off, trying to compose himself. He couldn’t let his overwhelming emotions distract him. Deep within him, a voice of reason whispered that she had lost too much blood, that he had arrived far too late to do anything other than deliver their child and provide comfort.

It was a girl. Their daughter arrived screaming, crying out for her mother, but Montgomery could barely hear her cries over the sinking feeling in his chest, his vision blurry from tears. Samira had no pulse. He cradled her limp body, holding her to his chest as his body racked with hysterical sobs, drowning out his newborn daughter’s.

[johnslittlespoon]

There we go!

Now- John would either be flabbergasted or impressed. I cant really decide. Lmao

bikeriders clip for context | LOL okay when i saw this teaser yesterday, i was thinking about whether leaving!bikeriders au gale would have pulled stuff like that when he was younger, and a scenario immediately popped into my head; here's a little drabble :-)

we've established that when john and gale first starting seeing each other, john's pretty shy regardless of his impulsivity and not–at–all–discreet thirsting over gale. he's probably very respectful of gale's privacy, not prying a lot despite his curiosity when gale dodges certain questions, scared of being 'too much.'

but a few months in (maybe less knowing him), once john starts to figure out what buttons he can push and which ones he shouldn't, and once gale proves to him (many times) that he's not going to blow up at him or leave him when he messes up or they have arguments? it's game on in terms of making himself at home when he's at gale's place, and clinging to gale like a sloth, and being stubborn and nosy and less guarded, etc.

so one day he's at gale's house, and gale unexpectedly ends up busy with something; maybe he has to get on a lengthy phone call with some parts supplier for the shop, or a guy from the club shows up to chat. either way, john's left to entertain himself, and he's come straight to gale's from college so his laptop's dead in his bag and his phone's plugged in at the table charging. he decides to do a little snooping out of pure boredom.

nothing too out of line, and he's not looking for anything in particular, just trying to pass time, but he stumbles across a stack of newspapers in a drawer of gale's bookshelf that are dated back to like a decade and a half earlier, and of course this catches his attention, because people usually don't hold onto newspapers unless there's something interesting in them, right?

he sits himself down cross legged on the floor next to the drawer and pulls out the first paper and begins flipping through, scanning for anything interesting, and then he sees it:

'gale cleven of casper, wyoming was arrested and charged with 18 traffic violations, but not before reportedly running through 7 stoplights, hitting speeds over 85mph in two 20mph school zones, and causing damage to 4 municipal vehicles as a result of the pursuit.'

john reads it over three times with wide eyes, trying to imagine his gale being so reckless. he thinks about the gale that says "safety first" or "helmet on" every time john gets on the back of his motorbike, and the gale that can hardly handle letting john drive his bike around an empty parking lot under his watchful, nervous gaze, and he laughs to himself in disbelief, feeling like he's just stumbled upon a gold mine of information.

but gale walks into the living room, fondly asking "what's got you giggling in here?" before his eyes land on john and his box of papers. john feels guilty for about half a second before he's swept back up in his shock and excitement, waving the newspaper around and exclaiming "eighteen traffic violations? a 2500 dollar bond??" with unbridled glee, cackling at the defeated expression on gale's face.

"john–"

"–municipal vehicles? what, did you hit cop cars?"

"–i left you alone for twenty minutes–"

"–gale, c'mon, you gotta tell me the story now, you can't just leave me hanging!"

"you're the one who went snooping," gale grumbles, but john can tell he's close to caving, so he puts the newspaper back in the box and pulls himself to his feet, bouncing over to gale and placing his hands on his arms to walk him backwards to the couch.

he knows he's won when gale allows himself to be pushed down onto the couch with a resigned sigh, and john grins like a cat that's got the cream as he settles himself in gale's lap, waiting eagerly.

and gale can't even pretend to be mad.

[bylrndgm]

that was the night i nearly lost you.

the worst was over, my hand was the one you reached for, all throughout the great war.

[tapakah0]

May I ask why so few of your animations make it to your Youtube channel? It would seem like a better way to archive your work, and the things you make are brilliant to behold. /positive

Because uh... um... I literally make them in a day or less and if you look closer they have a lot of mistakes, they are short. The longer ones or more polished make their way to there, or at least ones where I put proper credits to, I want to make at least proper credits for both Marble sky animations to get them on there...

Did you know that credits is the most complicated part in animations for me pshogpfpfp

[alaskan-wallflower]

sighhhhhh (wip under the cut)

ONE MORE SKETCH. ONE MORE SKETCH. (i’ll fix the hair! and everything!)

[oceanmoongirl143]

[haruka-636]

I want to draw doodles rather than art until my art block is fixed...✨️✧*｡ ᝰ✍🏻( ᐛ )

[familyabolisher]

baby's first namedrop in a google review about how good my service was