#sorry for the big yapping session

[blackghostm2o]

Guess what time is it? The time for another shitty rambling session about PotO!!! YAYY!

Audience? Me

Phantom ramblings n.??? REALLY LONG YAPPING SESSION BEWARE!

This time it’s PotO at Trieste (I wonder if they’ll ever return to Italy T.T either that or I have to go to London, tho I’ve never been there so it would be nice in general. Also baffled by how many dates are there. Omfg!!!)

This is a non-replica/ reimagined so they do things a bit differently.

The costumes are almost all different, I do admit that I prefer the original ones. For example, the Phantom here doesn’t have his “m’lady” hat (the fedora), his vest is not black but white, the cape has a different cut, not ✨shiny✨ and has red insides. Or the dress in Hannibal doesn’t have the characteristic design with red and green, but it’s pale-blue.

Still talking about costumes, but moving specifically to the masquerade: SO… All the costumes are pretty simple, not as showy as the original ones, but (THO take this with a grain of salt) I think that they decided to take more inspiration from La Commedia dell’arte or at least more traditional costumes and also dances (at least in some parts), which is a really nice touch, so I prefer this choice. (Btw this year, if everything goes well, I’ll participate to one of those traditional ball for Carnevale, maybe I’ll return to this post to “confirm or deny” this statement). Interesting having a moment where Christine and Raoul are completely alone. The Red death’s costume is a bit sad… As other people said: “The Red death is Erik serving cunt.” And here it is SO PLAIN, but also pretty close to how Edgar Allan Poe describes it, a simple red tunic… So maybe they were going for that, idk. Tho him being surrounded by everyone and then vanishing, just to appear again next to Christine (who was “escorted” away by Raoul, being actually useful for once) for the “YOUR CHAINS ARE STILL MINE…” was cool af. Sad how Raoul and Moncharmin have a normal frac, but Firmin was a total slay with his pink dress.

At first I was: “Oh… No funky costume? :(“

Then lmao

This is the Red death btw

Btw I love the Don Juan costume here, it is really strange, but I adore it. Love the gaudy colors and the big ass hat, hahaha. Also during ponr I really really like how he starts to sing to Christine and we hear Piangi’s voice and then it transitions into the Phantom’s one, not the usual Piangi goes away and then Phantom immediately pops up. I wonder if they wanted to show him being able to perfectly mimic Piangi’s voice (so maybe being: “Well… He’s an amazing ventriloquist and his voice is capable of mesmerising people, he would totally pull this shit off”) OR to show the moment in which Christine understands that Don Juan is the Phantom. Another interesting thing is how the second unmasking goes here… Yes Christine gets his mask, but HE takes off the hat… Why? Was he too overwhelmed? Christine teases him a lot and goes for a kiss, which makes him flinch (fucking loved that) and looks a bit uncomfortable. Hmm…

Unmasking you say? Let’s talk about the first unmasking (I’m sorry, ik that this post is such a mess and I’m continually jumping instead of going in chronological order… But I can’t really help it). Hehe, I’m not a really big fan of how MotN has the Phantom mostly sitting while singing it, I do prefer when he’s moving around, teasing, being close to Christine… Don’t understand this change, honestly. The interesting thing (for me) is “Stranger than you dreamt it” (which also lives rent free in my head): here Erik (ik it’s not correct calling him like that, but it’s shorter and a bit more humane than PHANTOM) is not lost in his action of composing, BUT it’s not like the stupid restaged version that has him “Oh yeah! Let’s just do my make up while Christine is right there! OH YEAH! I’VE BEEN TOUCHED BY THE ONLY PERSON HERE LET’S JUST LOOK AT THEM WITHOUT THE MASK.” No, not like that. He stops composing and glances at her (a couple of times) starts again, as if trying to distract himself, but he can’t help himself so he completely stops and turns around not facing her and seeming so anxious about it : “Omg, she’s awake. What do I do???” While swinging a bit. She them sits next to him and he looks at her… Almost lost admiring her, so lost that he doesn’t realise that she’s going to take off his mask. A bit sad that they have cut him crawling on the ground, but God… Him rockin and being scared when Christine got close… Omfg…

I swear I’m really normal about his phantom, I SWEAR!

I don’t like how Christine wanted to throw herself off the opera house in the roof scene, I can’t really see Christine doing that.

Loved when they had Erik FUCKING SWINGING AROUND THE STAGE MADLY LAUGHING INSTEAD OF JUST HAVING HIS SHADOW!!! AND SWINGS ON THE CHANDELIER!!! HILARIOUS AF. CAT BEHAVIOUR.

Look at this mf

I wonder if it was a stunt double or not, hahaha. Seems fun to do tho.

Having Raoul shirtless in the final lair was totally unnecessary, pfft hahaha. I wonder how they went about it: “ Hmm… Yk… Fanservice has never hurt, we obviously cannot have the Phantom like that, but Raoul… He somehow has lost his shirt while trying to get to Christine!” “But sir-“ “Shush! People will enjoy this!” Jokes aside I like how he actually looks like he is getting chocked (them taking him above the ground) and how he briefly loses consciousness, leaving Christine and Erik trying to get him up (mostly Christine, Erik was like ”GO AWAY! LEAVE ME!” And I was thinking ”My man… At least help her a bit… The dude is massive, no way she could do it alone.”)

About the final lair there are some things that I prefer in the 25th (like the kiss! Ohh don’t get me started on it), but I do like how more aggressive he is here. Also here there’s him rocking like in the first unmasking, this swinging between violent fury and being in a moment of full weakness maybe after realising his actions? Or just being too overwhelmed by the whole situation, not knowing what to do… Everything not going as planned, not following any schemes. Idk, but I like it a lot.

The mechanic wings on Erik as the angel of death are smart and stupid at the same time, hahaha. They where just to show off, let’s be honest. Maybe a bit goofy.

I feel that there where added some small elements to crater more to an Italian audience? Like the “IDIOTI!” At the first rehearsal or Carlotta saying “Ah beh!” As the countess after saying “Pretence” ( pretty funny, ngl). I also liked how she and Piangi had a thick accent (ik that’s not unusual).

So yeah… Enjoyed it. Unfortunately the audio quality was quite horrible, but I’m glad that I could see this thx for a user here who jailbroke it (bless you).

Well… If you’ve read to this point, holy shit! Thx.

G’night :) <3

[wannabemasterofwindintraining]

You could be nicer about it :((

[st4rstudent]

Will we ever meet Bobby JR in Person?

Because I have no Idea how to draw him since I don't know how tall he is or how old he is.

Like is he a 5 or 6 Year Old Kid?

Is he born just a Regular Child or born a Prodigy?

And will he like Bear Toons? Since he Love anything related to Bears?

Like he will go crazy that any Products like Food and Toys including Clothing that has a Bear on it.

I can't properly answer any of these, since I'm not apart of the team or anything, so everything I say after this is purely speculation and/or just random thoughts. I assume that, even if Bobby Jr is not added physically into the game, he'll be mentioned plenty of times (especially around April Toons with Thomas's dialogues). Especially if Crystalline is added to the game, since it's been established that the entire Cyger family has some issues going on. As for height, you can kind of estimate his height based on this photocard of him and the Chairman. He's shorter than the Chairman (who has an ingame model that can be compared to other managers). I assume he's at most half of Chairmans height. Do NOT leave him outside with a giant hawk. He's very obviously a child, I always imagine an age that's somewhere in the early-middle of elementary school, like maybe 7 or 8? Truthfully I only assign age ranges to characters, not specific numbers, makes it easier. Either way, I can't see him being in middle school yet.

I think the idea of him seeing a bear toon and getting really excited would be kind of funny. He ends up having to be dragged away by Robert.

[vaniliens]

Had a dream where I was talking to my older brother* to solve an issue he has by our pool & people kept beating me up and trying to drown me but my older brother just watches and keeps talking

[liatorii]

It’s a good time to be a transformers fan guys!

Watched transformers one yesterday and I literally still think about it every waking moment.

It’s such a stunning movie, the story flowed so well! The action was genuinely incredible and let’s not even get started on the animation and art direction!!! Absolutely going to get the art book 100%

Personal favourites were some of the wide shots, and camera work. Sometimes it felt like they were imitating life action filming (blue eye samurai does that too :D it’s so cool!)

The acting was fantastic obviously! So much character! And ngl, Hemsworth and Tyree Henry did an amazing job playing the two big guys.

I enjoyed the humor aswell! Bumblebee was a bit much at times e but that’s about all I can say. He’s still endearing to me.

Did get emotional towards the end, I grew up on transformers but I’m unfortunately not as well versed in the deep lore as I want to be (wish I could point out every single reference and recognise characters in seconds but alas). I still thoroughly LOVED it, and am almost tempted to watch it again aaaaa

Please if you haven’t seen it, go watch it! It’s such a fun watch, even for folk who know next to nothing about transformers.

[deliriousmonk]

For some reason I have a very elegant dead woman in my camera roll.

[endearng]

Tie

Pairing: switch!Spencer Reid x sub!fem!reader Summary: Spencer gets unreasonably jealous of you. You let him take control to comfort and reassure him. That's what loving girlfriends do. WC: 3.6k Warnings: smut - oral (f receiving), edging, overstimulation, kinda softdom!Spencer, reader is compliant to everything he says, he's just as desperate as her, sir kink, creamp1e (i long for a better word), bondage, unprotected pinv, dirty talk (they yap), pet names, pussy slapping. Jealous Spencer deserves a warning of its own. Minors, please, do not interact. A/N: I have no excuse for myself (I'm ovulating). This is pure filth and indulgent because I was being tortured with thoughts of Spencer.

Feedbacks are always welcomed and appreciated <3 Masterlist

Subtle touches from Spencer all night had you going crazy. Well, they weren’t exactly that subtle.

During a particular conversation you were having with Rossi about Italian cuisine (you were an enthusiast, both of cooking and eating Italian dishes like nothing else existed), Spencer, who had an armed slung over the chair you were sitting on, started twirling your hair in his fingers. When you laughed at some remark about how French people are insane for combining dairy with fish, your boyfriend pulled your hair rather crudely. You glared at him from the corner of your eye.

You got somewhat angry because it was uncomfortable for you to be that intimate around others, but his teasing worked wonders on you. Now, you wanted his touch to be bolder, thirstier, needier, just to match your own sinful thoughts and wants. Right now, Spencer was saying goodbye to Rossi, who was waiting for a cab to take him and his wife back home. Spencer's hand rested at the small of your back. The wine you sipped all through the night, combined with Spencer's bratty behavior, was now making your pussy throb with need for your boyfriend. Nevertheless, you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing you all worked up in public. "Goodbye, Krystall, and again, happy birthday. Thank you for including me! It was incredible," you said to the woman, who hugged you warmly and thanked you with a smile on her face. "Looking forward to those cooking sessions you mentioned earlier," you said, a big smile on your face as you gave David Rossi a hug.

"Anytime, bellissima." He said simply as you pulled away, smile gracing his face. You held out your hand to Spencer to walk back to his car.

The nickname had struck a nerve. He wasn't jealous, no, he trusted you with his body and his soul, even if he, as a man of science, didn't believe in the latter — that's how much he loved and trusted you, and it was Rossi, for God's sake... Still, he was just another man. Another stupid, territorial man. He opened the door for you and you entered the car, giving him a peck on the lips, "Thanks, handsome."

"Anytime, bellissima," he said through gritted teeth after he closed the door and as you fastened your seatbelt, out of your earshot. He turned around to enter the car, taking the driver's seat.

You went home silently, but you could sense the heavy atmosphere between you on the way there. As you entered your apartment, he got down on his knees to take off your shoes for you. He always did it, no matter what. Apparently, acting weird was no exception to his care with you. You bit your lip, a little apprehensive to bring up the subject. "Thank you, baby," you said softly instead.

"You're welcome, darling." he said, not looking at you and taking longer than necessary in his task.

You sucked in a breath. "Okay, baby, what was that? We need to talk about it."

"What was what?"

"Just when we left the restaurant. I said thanks and you basically ignored me all the way here," you explained, even if you knew he definitely knew what you were talking about. your hand found the nape of his neck, making him look up at you. He had a guilty look on his face.

Busted.

He sighed, "I'm sorry, baby. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. I was mean." He apologized, eyes sincerely searching your form and hands reaching up to rest on the sides of your hips.

"Why did you do it, then?"

"Bellissima. You know what it means. I just got... jealous? I should be the only one complimenting you," he said, now standing at full height in front of you. Kissing your lips, hands caressing your waist, touch light as a feather, "telling you how much you mean to me," you sighed as his lips brushed the skin of your neck, "how much it drives me crazy just seeing you," he bit the sweet spot just behind your ear, "my beautiful, gorgeous girlfriend. Mine."

You pulled on his hair so he could see your features. Looking him dead in the eye, with an almost angry look on your face. You wanted him to pay for everything he had done that night. "Baby, you were touching me all night, knowing that you were driving me insane. knowing you're the only one who gets to do that," you leaned in to kiss him softly. "And then throw a tantrum like the spoiled little thing that you are just because someone said a word to me? You know compliments mean nothing when it comes from someone who's not you, baby. Thought you knew better."

Silence. He looked at you like you kicked his dog. 

"Remind me, then," he retorted, looking you in the eye. "Remind me how much you're mine and mine only."

One of your favorite things about your relationship with Spencer was that, in public, your dynamic was totally different from what you were like between four walls. When you were surrounded by people, Spencer acted like a gentleman, always making sure to cater to your every whim, opening car doors, taking off your shoes for you, picking nice places to take you on dates, accepting your suggestions of what to wear — it was no coincidence that he looked a lot more styled lately, but you also loved his usual attires. It was how you met him and how you fell in love with him, after all.

But, in the bedroom (or wherever he decided to have you), it was totally different. You were compliant to everything he said, letting go of the control you had over yourself, over your relationship, over everything so he could take you to fucking heavens. You obeyed everything without so much a "yes, sir", and he fucking loved it.

He unzipped the skin-tight dress after leading you back to your shared room. He sat down on the edge of the bed, you stood before him, whose tie was loosened around his neck. "Is this all for me?" he asked as he saw what you had underneath your dress all night long, absolutely sick with the slightest idea that someone else could have that.

You sighed as he kissed your neck and trailed down to your breasts, easily unclasping your bra. "Yes, sir, all for you."

Just like clockwork, all his attention drifted to your breasts. One of his large, calloused hands held your waist securely and the other played with one of your nipples as he licked the other, his hot tongue circling the nub, making you whimper and sending a rush of wetness through your core. "mmm, always need my mouth full of you, angel."

"nnngh, it feels so good."

He smiled on your skin, biting your nipple afterwards. The sting made you see stars and desperate to feel him in some sort of way, you'd take anything he had to offer you. You just needed to be touched. As he continued your ministrations on your breasts, switching from one to the other, you moaned, your hands finding his hair. "Sir—ah—, can you please—touch me?"

He stopped his movements and looked up at you, laughing mockingly. "Is that all it takes, pretty? A few minutes of my mouth on you and you're already so pliant? So eager for me to touch you?"

"Yes, sir. I need you so bad."

"Tell me, then," he scoffed, "where do you want me to touch you?"

Your incoherent babbles meant nothing, so he just laughed at your poor attempt at an answer.

"You're so good at begging, aren't you?" You nodded, licking your lips with the sight of his wet ones. "Wanna kiss me, baby?"

"Always do. Can I?"

"Yes, you can." No matter how dominant he was, he could never deny you a kiss.

You leaned down to kiss him. The brush of your lips alone made Spencer crazy, craving more and more. He could spend hours just kissing you, never getting tired of the mind numbing sensation it had on him. You deepened the kiss, your tongue caressing his, earning a moan from his end. You smiled. "I love kissing you." You whispered as you barely pulled away, breathless.

"I know you do, pretty."

His hands trailed on the sides of your body, earning a shiver from you. Just as he reached the hem of your panties, they traveled up again, grazing the skin of your arms instead. As he found your hands, he gave them a gentle squeeze. He stood up and looked down at you, in for another kiss. "You have no idea what you do to me," he groaned. His words only spurred you further. "Take off my shirt. Slowly." he commanded. And you complied, taking every chance to brush your fingers against his hot skin, desperate to rake your nails on his chest, to make him shiver for you, too.

Spencer turned you around gently so you could see yourself in the big mirror placed in front of the bed. You watched as he pushed your hair out of his way, resting it on your left shoulder to give him access to your neck, his hands finding your breasts so he could play with them, too. He started with light kisses on your neck, lips barely brushing the area, making goosebumps soon erupt on your skin. His caresses got gradually more aggressive, making you blatantly moan his name when he bit the sweet spot behind your ear and grinded his clothed dick against your ass. You whimpered, overwhelmed with so many stimuli.

Turning you to face him, again, he sat you on the edge of the bed, covered only by your underwear in front of him. You could see the tent in his pants and you were desperate to taste him, to take him in your mouth in order to make him as crazy as he made you. God, the things you'd do to hear him whimper like he knew you loved to hear...

"Thinking about something, angel?" He chuckled, mocking you yet again when he saw what were you looking at and the position you put yourself in: cunt in full display after you placed both feet at the edge of the bed.

You nodded violently. That was how you always found yourself pleading for him. It didn't take much, honestly. "Please, sir, I'll do anything. jus', please, let me feel you,"

Anything...

"Aw, pretty, you're so desperate for me," his tone was condescending. "thought you'd wanted someone else for a moment tonight."

"No! No! Never, sir. Never. I only want you. I only want you to touch me."

Leaning down, his fingers raked over your stomach, ghosting over the fabric of your panties. Spencer groaned as he touched the wet patch on your underwear, glistening, begging for attention.

"'s just how much I want you..."

"Look at you, angel, begging me to have my way with you," he sneered, "so pretty..." he muttered, getting down on his knees.

Through your soaked underwear, Spencer caressed your mound and outer lips, almost as if he was drawing your cunt from scratch, tracing every single feature, making it cling even harder to the garment. Each touch made you feel eager. Want something, say something, right?

He teased you for what felt like hours, but when you were finally able to form a sentence, he pushed your panties to the side and he moaned lowly at the sight of you. "Spence—sir..." You started, but were cut by a breathless grunt that raked through you as he licked a broad stripe on your slit.

"You are soaked, princess, had to have a taste of you... you were sayin'?"

"Please, don't stop, sir," your hands flew to his hair, trying to push him back to what he had started.

"Nuh-uh, princess," he tsked, gathering his tie from the floor, "You don't deserve to touch me after the little show you put up today. I’m gonna have to tie you up, alright?" 

There it was. Your punishment.

One thing about Spencer is that he always made sure to tell you whatever he was planning on doing with you, both so that you could say no if you wanted to and also because it turned you on beyond limits. It made your heart soar, he was so careful with you, making every man on earth seem like straight up Neanderthals. You whined at his plan as he looked at you to see if you were okay with the idea.

You jutted your lip out, brows furrowing, but you couldn't disagree with him. Adorable, he thought. He tied both of your hands behind your back, using his fucking tie. "... Yes, 's alright. I jus' wish I could touch you so badly," you complained.

"I know, pretty," he cooed, "that's why I'm gonna give you a chance to be good for me, and when you prove to me you can do it, you can touch me all you want."

"O-okay," you stuttered as he started placing teasing kisses on your inner thighs. You sighed.

"You smell so good. Want me to taste you too, hm? You're soaked, your pussy is begging me to do something about it."

"Yes, yes, I do!" you almost yelled. "Please, sir, I'll be good for you."

"I know you fucking will." he stated. Just then, he started licking your pussy, delicately at first just so you could get used to the feeling of finally having him the way you wanted. His hands held your hips in place to stop you from moving. He was the one in control, after all.

Then, once he sucked your clit between his lips, he started flicking his tongue against the nub, eliciting moans from you. The taste of you in his tongue was something he could never get used to, every fucking time felt like the first. He felt addicted to the power it had over him. The best he could do was at least try to be in control. You squirmed, almost like you wanted to get away from him, but his firm hands held you in place. "Be good and stay still," he muttered against your core, slapping your pussy once. You nodded, whining, too lost in the feeling after the sting, in the feeling of his tongue punishing you in a rhythm that put you in a frenzy. Spencer's middle finger slowly pushed inside your fluttering walls. "You're dripping all over my fingers. What a messy girl."

Knuckle deep inside your cunt and mouth feverishly and steadily working on your clit, your boyfriend started to feel more and more desperate by the second with the sounds coming from your mouth. You, on the other hand, could almost taste your release, a complete mess on the bed, chants leaving your reddened lips from all the biting, "yes, sir! You make me feel s'good, you're s'deep in me. Fuck! I'm your good g—" as he heard your words tinged with desperation in a high pitched voice and felt the muscles in your pussy tighten, he quickly stopped his actions.

He would bet money that it hurt him more than it did you.

"Noooo..." you whined, like a spoiled brat. A breathless, messy, spoiled brat. You knew what you were in for from the moment he took off your shoes. "Please, please, sir. You can f-eel how desperate I am for you," you blabbered, trying to argue. "Can I show you?" You decided to take matters into your own hands. Well, as best as you could.

He stood up. "Let's see what you've got, princess." He gripped his shaft in front of you, making saliva pool in your mouth. "You're not even being fucked yet, and you're already this dumb, baby?" He sneered at you. You looked up at his face, taking in his dilated pupils watching you. You looked like any man's wet dream, perfect pussy on display, chest heaving with anticipation of what was coming next, face contorted in the filthiest expression in the world.

He would be happy just to watch you, but he was actually able to taste, touch, see, smell and hear the whole thing.

He was the luckiest man in the world.

Half sitting on the bed, back against the headboard and already off of his slacks and briefs, he beckoned you over to his lap. You kneeled somewhat awkwardly on the bed to hover on his lap, cunt dripping arousal on his belly as you did so. He groaned, the dominant facade faltering for a moment. He had to be the most indulgent dominant man ever, because he was barely able to resist you and your seducing ways. "See how wet you make me?" You whispered, eyes focused on his, which looked directly at the sheer liquid pooling on his stomach.

"You're such a good girl, baby" in a weakened voice made its way out of his mouth. "Since you asked so nicely and you have proof, why don't you show me how much you love riding me, huh? Come on, pretty, sit on my cock. Ride me." His commanding sentences made your cunt gush yet again.

"Yes, sir!" you exclaimed, ready to obey his commands.

Spencer gripped his base and rubbed his dick against your folds. He groaned, biting his lip and it took every single ounce of self control not to kiss him senseless. After some more teasing, he muttered, "You can do it now."

You sat down on him, slowly, pushing the tip in. "Fuck," hoarse voice, just the way he loved it, "you feel so good, sir. And you're not even fully in yet."

"Come on, nice and slow, princess."

You sank a little further, his girth stretching you out so deliciously that it made you shut your eyes closed as goosebumps erupted on your skin, pure bliss running through you. "Fuck—ah— you're so, so hard, sir," you hissed.

"Yes, that's it," he grabbed your hands in one of his. He felt you clench around him. "Gonna make sure you get off on my cock alone."

Recalling his demand, you obeyed. Nice and slow, savoring the feeling of having him buried to the hilt inside of you. each time you pulled back just to slam his dick inside again made you feel dizzy. Spencer was mesmerized by the sight before him. First, your expression told him how much you enjoyed riding him, mouth agape to let out the dirtiest moans and words, unlike the poised woman he liked to brag about to whoever listened. "Fuck, you're so deep. 's so good, love it when you let me ride you, sir."

Spencer kept silent for a moment, still admiring your form. He watched as the hair on your skin shivered each time he started to meet your thrusts, eager to make you his. his eyes drifted to your breasts, bouncing with every movement of your bodies. It was wanton, watching you get off on top of him, using him to chase your own high, but the sight that got him enthralled was your pussy making his cock glisten with your arousal. "Yeah, pretty? So what do you say? D'you remember you have to be nice?"

"Thank you, sir"

"Thank you for what?" he urged.

“Thank you for letting me sit on your cock. Ah! I'm all yours, sir! Yours."

"That's right. You're taking me so well, princess, fucking hell," he cursed. "Such a tight pussy, baby, so perfect for me."

At this point, Spencer was a goner below you. You rocked your hips and he met you thrusts ruthlessly, focused on chasing your high. You slowed your movements, clit grinding against his pubic bone, dick still rock hard inside of you. You felt the telling signs of your orgasm approaching and, mind filled with thoughts of all the filth you've done with him. You still wanted to do much more. "Fuck, pretty girl—you're so good at taking me."

You leaned down to whisper in his ear, your tits brushing against his skin adding to the whirlwind of sensations. "Can I come, sir? Please! I want to come all over your cock," all your sentences sounded like heavenly, pathetic whines to Spencer's ears.

"You hafta take it, princess," he groaned, hands guiding your movements. "Take. It." He urged, words emphasized by two particularly hard thrusts. “Wanna come inside of you.”

"Yes, please! I'm all yours—Spencer!" You yelled out his name as your orgasm washed over you, still grinding against him.

The sound of his name leaving your lips was enough to follow you not shortly after. “Gonna come—fuck—inside you.” He gritted. After spilling inside you, he kept fucking his cum back inside with a few sloppier thrusts.

You crashed beside him, taking a minute to catch your breath. Spencer quickly reached to undo his tie on your wrists, kissing the soft skin after removing the garment. You chuckled at his care. “Don't ever stop me from touching you again,” you muttered.

“What are you going to do, angel? Stop me?” He laughed softly.

He cleaned you both up and you had your hands free to caress your boyfriend’s skin all night long.

The next morning, Spencer had you on the phone as he walked in the bullpen, saying “yes”, “of course”, and a series of different agreements, gleeful expression on his face.

He heard Derek Morgan chuckle. "Aw, Reid, she already telling you what to do?"

"There's no time for her to start, you know that, Derek," Emily quipped.

They had no idea you were telling him about the wet dream you had about him fucking you in the middle of the bullpen.

[muwapsturniolo]

✯Stress Relief✯

(This was a request from an anon but I couldn't find the request even though I replied to it 😭 sorry that it took so long anon but here you go!)

Summary: Matt needs to relieve stress and his best friend is there to help.

Warning: titty sucking, that is literally it.

technically this is part one but you don't HAVE to read it (but i would love if yall did🌸)

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

Y/n was relaxing in her room when she heard her front door open and close. She gets confused but doesn’t bother to get up. If it was a killer, she just hoped it’s ghost face, preferably Stu.

“Y/n?” She perks up hearing her best friend, Matt, ascending up the stairs. He walks into her room, looking drained. He had multiple meetings today, and then he tried going grocery shopping but got swarmed by fans.

He had a long day and needed comfort.

“You look like shit.” Y/n mumbles as she watches Matt take off his shoes and throw his keys down on her nightstand. “I feel like shit, no need to yap at about it.” She narrows her eyes at his irritated tone. “Watch your mouth when speaking to me Matthew.” They stare at each other, y/n’s eyes harsh. since the day they had sex and she found out he likes being dominated, their relationship has changed. she was able to be more stern with Matt, even tease him a little.

Her eyes soften when she sees his getting glossy. she eases up and becomes concerned.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me pretty boy.” She pulls him down onto the bed and holds him as he begins to sniffle softly. “I don’t know! I’m just so stressed! I h-had so many meetings and it seemed like they were yelling at me! Then at the store fans kept coming up to me! I just-“ he feels like he can’t breathe.

Y/n rocks him back and forth, trying to comfort him. “What do you need? Tell me what you need.” She mutters softly. Although her exterior is hard and mean, she has a soft spot for people she cares about. Matt being the main one.

He was her best friend.

“I need you.” He claws at her, attempting to pull her closer. “Matt, I’m not com-not like that! Just need to be close.” He begins digging his face into her chest, the need to be close to her overwhelming.

She lays them down, her being the big spoon while Matt remains the small one, his face smushed into her breasts. She allows her long nails to scratch his scalp, mumbling soft praises to calm him down. “It’s ok pretty boy. No one is yelling at you, you're ok.” He clenches his eyes shut and takes shaky breaths, trying to calm himself down.

He eventually stops crying, occasionally sniffling.

He’s calm, but there’s still this sense of doom looming over him. He opens his eyes and sees her boobs right there.

He gets an idea and slowly paws at her tanktop, asking without speaking.

She looks down and instantly figures out what he wants. After all, he did the same thing at the end of their first session. She nods and continues to scratch his scalp.

“Go ahead pretty boy.”

He eagerly yanks her top down, her boobs spilling out. Quickly, he takes her right nipple in his mouth and holds her left one, squeezing the flesh softly.

He begins to suck, allowing his tongue to lap over the sensitive bud.

Y/n clenches her legs and lets out a soft sigh. As much as this is turning her on, it’s not the time. She pushes her sexual needs aside and plants a kiss on the top of his head. “There you go pretty boy, it’s ok.”

Matt instantly feels relaxed, all of his worries and stress leaving his body. He closes his eyes and continues sucking and massaging her breasts, his leg intertwined with hers.

The two fall asleep, content in each other's arms.

Y/n is the first to awake. She looks down and sees Matt still fast asleep, his mouth slightly open as his hand still rests on her breast. “Matt baby, wake up.” She whispers softly. She strokes his face, allowing her thumb to brush over his jaw, his scruff scratching her thumb.

He slowly awakes, a bit confused as to where he is. Y/n says nothing, allowing him to come to his senses and process everything.

“I-I’m sorry.” Is the first thing he says once he notices the position they are in. She frowns and starts scratching his scalp again, “Why are you saying sorry? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I came over and was being dramatic then I…” his face gets red, not wanting to talk about him sucking on her nipples like a breastfeeding child.

“Fell asleep with my boob in your mouth?” He nods and looks away from her. She sits up and fixes her shirt. As she does so, she speaks softly but sternly. “Matt, you didn’t do anything wrong so don’t apologize. You weren’t being dramatic, you had a long and stressful day, and needed comfort. I wasn’t going to tell you no.”

“But you’re my best friend! I don’t want you to think I’m using you as a mock therapist or for your body!”

“Matt-“ she sits on her knees and forces him to look at her, “I’m telling you now, I don’t care about any of that ok? I’m not mad or upset with you. I’m telling you it’s ok. Get out of your head pretty boy.”

He looks at her trying to see if she’s lying.

She’s not.

He nods and Y/N smiles, kissing his nose. “Now, did you want to continue, or did you want to go?”

“C-can I sleep over…and we continue?” His voice is timid, not wanting to cross a boundary. “Go change into pajamas,” she demands softly. He nods and leaves the room to change.

When he comes back, he sees her lying down under the blankets with the tv on. He joins her and goes to pull her shirt down, but she stops him. He watches as she sits up and takes her top off.

He wastes no time in pulling her close and wrapping his mouth around her breasts once again.

The two lay in a comfortable silence, the only sound being from her TV.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

im backkkkkk, lmao. sorry for not writing!!! I've been stressed this month with adult shit and my bday is very very soon so im stressed over that too!😅 but anyway, i have a few days off from work so im going to try and get some stuff out for you guys!!

TAGLIST🍑

@bernardsgf @bernardsleftbootycheek @blahbel668 @mattfrfr @gdsvhtwa @sturniolo-aali @lily-loves-struniolos @kynda-avery @causeidontlikeagoldrush

@st7rnioioss @carolinalikesthings @mattslolita @suyqa @xxloveralways14 @pepsiimaxx @judespoision

@ivonchetooo1239 @imaslut4kehlani @that-general-simp @m4stermindd @itzdarling @gigisworldsstuff @adoreindie @braindead4l @pettydollie

[my-craft]

Since I was asked about it and I really love yapping about symbolism, here’s the breakdown of what flowers are in each bouquet and what they mean

(Disclaimer I’m not an expert on flowers and am going off of google and a Victorian flower language book, alright, disclaimer over, let’s go!)

Full explaination of the symbolism under the cut!

Desert Lily- overcoming challenges

Rue- regret (Grian immediately regretted killing Scar at the final duel)

Marigold- grief (same as above)

Desert rose- resiliency

Desert rose- resiliency

Cactus- they never left that ring

Amaryllis- pride, strength

Poppy and Lilacs- desert duo was such a big part of this series and I’m a sucker for a good overarching symbol

Scott:

Heather- protection/ luck (I was thinking with him and his axolotl, he protected the axolotl and it ended up being a bit of a good luck charm)

Violet- modesty (he started with only two hearts, a modest amount)

Magnolia- dignity

Jasmine- Amiability, Cheerfulness

Clematis- Ingenuity, Cleverness (he prepared well and thought out his endgame strategy, very clever)

Rosemary- remembrance, wisdom

Orchid- elegance (partially because I really wanted some pink in there for his axolotl but also it was a well played game)

Pearl:

Wattle- flower of Australia

Dogwood blossoms- for Tilly 💜 (it also means ‘our love will overcome adversity’)

Begonia- to repay a favor/ a warning

Nettle- revenge

Alyssum- literally translates to ‘without madness’ and also has ties to witchcraft and apparently was used to treat rabies

Anemone- forsaken love

Wormwood- bitterness/ grief

Primrose- luck, joy

Daffodils- unrequited love

Martyn:

(I was a little mean with his, I’m sorry Martyn)

Cherry blossom- symbol of time passing, and how short time is

Gladiolus- you pierce my heart (he killed the last two contestants with a sword, I think he’s the only winner to kill the opponent with a sword) (Grian-fists, Scott- arrows/zombie, Scar- fall damage, Cleo-zombie (ha) Joel- fall damage)

Bilbery- treachery (he backstabbed his former teammate)

Tansy- hostility

Laurel- victory

Orange Lily- good luck

Coral- homage to the mean gills

Fir- an evergreen tree, another symbol of time and a nod to him now having all the time in the world now he’s won

Petunia- resentment (it’s harsh but he kinda resented the idea of a fair fight between the three of them)

Scar:

Sunflower- false riches (it’s scars chosen flower and it fits so well for the trader that never had any good trades)

Foxglove- riddles, secrets (its called Secret Life, I thought it would be perfect)

Datura- deceitful charms (scar was incredibly shrewd, clever and charming, this is an excellent flower for him)

Crocus- cheerfulness

Dandelion- magic, transformation

Poppy and lilac- hey, I haven’t left the desert either

Fern- magic, secrecy

Cleo:

I didn’t have much for them because it was only one episode but I’ve got a few

Larkspur- levity (it was a fun session and they seemed to have fun with it

Sweet pea- ‘thank you for a lovely time’ (they had a lovely fun time!)

Chamomile- energy in adversity (they were having a tough time with the vr aspect and still kept up energy)

Cattail- peace and prosperity (they kept fairly peaceful with everyone until the end)

Joel:

Honeysuckle- devotion (he was incredibly loyal to his family

Yellow Azalea- friendship, family

Ivy- fidelity, attachment (once again, incredibly loyal and stayed true to his family)

Yarrow- love, strength, courage

Cornflower- hope in love

Zinnia- everlasting friendship (family is advanced friendship)

Blue hyacinth- sincerity (he kept true to his word)

[lewistoferrari]

study hall [3]

uni student kyle who’s late for his session with you in study hall.

“she’s gonna kill me,” he mutters to himself as he pushes through the double doors, a groan slipping past his lips when he catches your eye.

if looks could kill he’d be dead.

fuck, i’m really in for it now, kyle thinks to himself as the urge to flee increases with each step he takes towards the table you’re occupying.

you really scared the shit out of him sometimes.

one look from you has kyle realizing how much trouble he’s in. you don’t even greet him like you usually do. he quietly dumps his backpack onto the table, while eyeing you warily when you kick his chair away from the table with more force than is necessary.

once he’s seated, kyle has a silent debate with himself. he’s wondering if he should explain his tardiness. but with the way you’re staring at him, he’s not even sure if it matters.

“45 minutes, garrick.”

that’s how late kyle is.

you almost let out a snort when he starts in on his apology right away. “i’m sorry, love. i was—”

but you’re not having any of it.

“save it,” you tell him, your patience finally worn thin. “your communication skills are sorely lacking if you can’t even be bothered to pick up a phone and let me know that you’re running late.”

kyle scowls at your little dig. “look smartass, can we just get this session over with.”

“gladly.” you’ll stop being mad at kyle when he’s no longer in your presence.

you spend the next hour watching kyle talk animatedly while he helps you with your coursework. you have an exam coming up and the class has been kicking your ass lately.

and you’ll never say it out loud—you have no desire to feed his ego—but the more kyle talks, you notice how intelligent he truly is.

no wonder his head is so damn big.

usually when kyle opens his mouth, it’s to utter something that’ll piss you off. he’s the only one who can get under your skin and stay there. you think you might hate professor price for pairing you with kyle, because now you feel like you’re noticing things about him against your will.

you’ve never seen kyle so laser focused, with his nose practically buried in his textbook. you notice the way he talks with his hands whenever he becomes passionate about a certain topic. you do everything you can to ignore the way his brows furrow, and the way he bites his lip when he’s trying to make sense of something.

you close your textbook immediately when you start staring at kyle’s fingers, and the way they grip his textbook. there’s a moment when you think about those same fingers gripping your ass. and you definitely shouldn’t be thinking about kyle’s fingers being anywhere near your pussy either, but you do. you have enough sense to suppress a groan. you shouldn’t be thinking about kyle or his hands. you’re supposed to be hating his ass.

shit.

this is bad.

and to make your situation worse, when you look up, pretty brown doe eyes are staring at you in confusion.

“why are you lookin’ at me like that? is something wrong?” kyle asks.

everything.

“nothing!” you blurt out quickly in a high pitched tone. you try your best to ignore kyle, who’s now looking at you suspiciously, while you shove your belongings into your bag. “i just remembered i have to—”

the shrill tone of your phone ringing interrupts your lie, which is a problem in itself when you see the name on the your screen.

it’s johnny.

not now, you think as you snatch the phone off the table to answer the call. you’re barely paying attention to johnny’s yapping though. you’re too busy staring at kyle, whose demeanor is slowly changing the longer you stay on your phone. your try to wrap the call up as quickly as possible by promising johnny that you’ll be available to help him over the weekend.

“why is soap calling you?” kyle demands as soon as the call ends.

he looks like he wants to throttle someone, but you don’t care.

“wouldn’t you like to know.”

kyle is way too calm for your liking when he asks you if you’re fucking soap.

excuse me?

“i’m not fucking anyone,” you hiss at him, while gathering the rest of your things. “and even if i was, how is that your business? i’m not yours.”

kyle eyes you up and down, “no?”

instead of responding, you walk off. you have every intention on putting as much distance between you and kyle as possible.

he doesn’t let you get far though. there is no warning when he sneaks up on you. with a grip on the back of your neck, kyle steers you to an empty room.

“garrick, what the hell do you think you’re d—”

a pair of soft lips crashing against yours shuts you up immediately.

-

a/n: it took me a minute to get here, but i’m back (i think)

kyle’s masterlist | uni-verse masterlist | main masterlist

[requiemforthepoets]

en garde! 𖦹 CL16

PAIRINGS: charles leclerc x fencer!leclerc!reader , f1 grid x fencer!leclerc!reader

SUMMARY: charles had been asking you to teach him fencing, and you finally did.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: smau mixed with narrations, inconsistent photos, typos, not proofread, cursing, no use of y/n on the narrations, poorly google translated italian, and all photos are taken from pinterest

FACE CLAIMS: all from pinterest

WORD COUNT: 4.5k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: it’s been a long time since i added a new fic to my leclerc!sister series, so here it is hehe sorry, i’ve yapped a LOT about fencing on the narration part, so pls forgive me 😭 i hope i didn’t bore you a lot with fencing stuff 😭 i’m also accepting request for this series (i’m running out on ideas lmao 🥲) but i hope that you’ll enjoy this one!

ynleclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbestfriend, sofia_rossi, marcoromano.fencing, landonorris and 783,984 others

ynleclerc E' passato un po' di tempo, Italia 💘

view all 12,837 comments

charles_leclerc when are you coming home?

ynleclerc idk, why?

charles_leclerc are you serious right now 😐

ynleclerc what…🧍🏻‍♀️

charles_leclerc check my messages for once 😐

username1 OH HOW I MISSED YOU 😭

username2 the y/n drought has finally ended!!!! 😭

username3 MOTHER IS BACK, MOTHER HAS POSTED 😭🎉

landonorris thank god you’re alive. i thought you’re already dead somewhere 😔💔

ynleclerc bro what 😭

landonorris anyways, when will you teach me how to fence for a new quadrant yt vid

ynleclerc you sure you’re up for it? don’t want you poking yourself with the foil

landonorris 😠😠😠😠

sofia_rossi CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU NEXT WEEK!!

ynleclerc 🥰🥰🥰

username4 OUR FAV FENCING DUO IS GOING TO SEE EACH OTHER SOON??? OMG 😭❤️

francisca.cgomes you’re in italy and you didn’t even tell me? 😠

ynleclerc I FORGOT IM SORRY IM SORRY!! but hey, i’m italy 🥰 hangout soon?

francisca.cgomes of course!!! just text meeee!!

username5 SHE REMEMBERED HER PASSWORD 🥳

ynleclerc posted a story!

liked by charles_leclerc, sofia_rossi, yourbestfriend, francisca.cgomes, marcoromano.fencing and others

charles_leclerc when will you teach me fencing 😔

charles_leclerc can’t believe it’s so hard to schedule one with you 💔💔💔

charles_leclerc i need big brother privileges 💔

ynleclerc USHCJJSJD CHARLES 😭

ynleclerc i’ll be home by next week! (hopefully you’ll be home as well 🤥) damn, can’t believe our schedules never really align

charles_leclerc ❤️❤️❤️❤️

francisca.cgomes i’m free tomorrow!! how about we go out for brunch?

ynleclerc KIKAAAA!! yes yes, ofc! ❤️

francisca.cgomes YAY!!

username6 OUR FENCING DUO WILL BE REUNITED SOON 😭❤️

username7 oh we pray for times like this (you being active on ig 😔💔)

MONACO

The sound of clashing blades echoed through the halls of the Club d’Escrime, a backdrop to your training session with Marco, your Italian coach. Fully suited in your white fencing uniform, mask tucked under your arm, you watched the double doors open, revealing your brother, Charles and his videographer, Antoine. The latter already had his camera rolling, and Charles, in his usual casual style—jeans, a dark hoodie, and white sneakers, looking like he had just stepped off a magazine cover.

“Finally!” You said, walking towards them with a smile. “Thought you’d never make it.”

Charles chuckled, spreading his arms in mock exasperation. “Don’t start! You’re the one who’s always impossible to catch. What is it this week? Tokyo? Budapest?”

“Home, for once,” you replied with a laugh, gesturing around the salle. “But that’s rare, as you know.”

“The place is very stunning,” Charles said, as he marveled the interior of the salle. “So this is where gold medals are made?” He teased.

“Something like that,” you replied, your voice light with pride. “Though Marco here deserves half the credit.”

“Ah, Charles! Finalmente ci incontriamo,” Marco greeted, shaking Charles’ hand firmly. His thick Italian accent added a charm to his words. “Your sister talks about you a lot.”

“È un piacere finalmente conoscerti. Lei non parla mai di me quando vinco, però.” He joked, shooting a playful look your way.

“Not true, and you know it.” You rolled your eyes at the comment.

Marco laughed, patting Charles on the shoulder. “Well today, we’ll see if athletic talent runs in the family, sì?”

“Okay, so here we are at the Club d’Escrime in Monaco. This is where my sister trains—when she’s not winning Olympic gold, of course,” he said grinning at you and turning towards the camera.

“We’ve been planning this fencing lesson for many months now, but with her busy training schedule and my racing calendar, it’s been almost impossible to find a day that worked for both of us. So finally, today is the day!” Charles added.

“Did you mention how excited you’ve been?” You quipped, folding your arms.

Charles smirked. “I may have. But, let’s be honest, you’re probably more nervous than I am.”

“Nervous?” You scoffed. “Why would I be nervous? You’re the one holding a weapon for the first time.”

“Ah, but I’ve seen the movies,” he countered, mimicking a clumsy lunge. “How hard can it be?”

You laughed at his theatrics, shaking your head. “We’ll see how long that confidence lasts when Marco puts you through the warm-up.”

“Speaking of which,” Marco interjected, “shall we start soon? Time is short, and I want to see if he can last more than five minutes.”

“You’re in for a workout.” You teased and smiled.

Charles gave an exaggerated sigh but could not hide his amusement. “Great. I love being underestimated.”

“You’re about to learn that fencing isn't as easy as people make it look on TV.” You smiled at the camera.

“Or tiktok.” Charles quipped, earning a chuckle from Marco.

You gestured towards the piste. “Alright, let’s get you geared up. I don’t want to hear any excuses later.”

Once Charles was all suited up, he stepped onto the piste, fully suited in his borrowed fencing gear, and you couldn’t help but pause. There was something striking about the way the jacket, breeches, and long socks suited him. The silver sheen of the lamé, a metallic vest worn over the jacket for scoring, added an almost regal touch. You smirked as you took in the sight of your brother adjusting his gloves.

“Oh my god. I’ve never looked so good.” Charles said as he came out all suited up.

“Would you look at that,” you began, folding your arms. “Hate to admit it, but you look good. Maybe too good.”

Charles glanced up, clearly amused. “Oh? Surprised your brother cleans up well?”

“I’m just saying, if this racing thing doesn’t work out, you might have a future as a fencer. Imagine, Charles Leclerc, Olympic Champion.” You gave him an exaggerated once-over. “The gear suits you.”

“I mean, I do look the part.” He smiled, striking a mock fencing pose, which was more comedic than impressive.

“You do,” you admitted with a laugh. “But let’s see if you can move like a fencer before you start planning your second career.”

“Basta con i complimenti. Time for the warm-up! No excuses later when your legs start complaining.” Marco smiled.

Charles groaned playfully, shooting you a mock glare. “Leg day already gets me in the gym. Don’t let him overdo it.”

“Stop whining,” you teased, motioning for him to follow Marco. “You’ll thank him when you’re not limping tomorrow.”

“We begin easy,” he said, demonstrating a forward bend. “Touch your toes, Charles. Keep your legs straight.”

“Easy for you to say,” he muttered, glancing at Marco, who was effortlessly folding himself in half.

“Come on, Charlie. You can’t lose to a guy twenty years older than you.” You chuckled from the sidelines, standing near Antoine, who was filming the entire thing.

“Thanks for the encouragement,” Charles quipped, finally managing to graze his toes. “I see you’re enjoying this too much.”

“I am.” You admitted, voice light with laughter.

Next were lunges, which Charles did with ease, his form surprisingly precise. “Now these, I can handle. We do this in the gym all the time.”

“Good. Now arm extensions, long and controlled. Think of reaching for the target.” Charles mirrored Marco’s movements, extending his arms fluidly.

You couldn’t resist teasing, “not bad, Charles. Maybe you’re a natural after all.”

“Maybe I am,” he replied, smirking. “See? I’ve got this.”

“Next is jumping jacks,” Marco interrupted, clearly amused by your banter.

Charles transitioned smoothly into the exercise, his movements energetic and practiced. As he worked through the routine, Charles suddenly turned to you, his tone curious.

“Why don’t we ever train together? Seems like it could be fun.” Charles glanced at you.

“Because you’d complain the whole time.” You laughed, shaking your head.

“Hey, I don’t complain that much.” He argued, clearly offended.

You just laughed at him, waving a hand dismissively. “Fencing is my thing, Charlie. I need to focus when I’m training, it’s not all fun and games.”

“And today isn’t serious?” Charles raised a brow, pausing mid-jumping jack.

“Not really,” you admitted with a shrug. “Today’s more about proving to you that fencing isn’t as easy as it looks.”

“Good luck with that,” he said, clearly amused. “You forget who you’re talking to.”

“Charles,” Marco interjected, a mischievous glint in his eye, “your sister has a gold medal, she might surprise you.”

“I don’t doubt that,” he said sincerely, before his grin returned. “But I’m still confident I can keep up.”

“That’s the spirit!” You smiled.

”The floor is yours, campionessa.” Marco smiled as he stepped back, and gestured for you to take over.

“Alright,” you turned to Charles. “Let’s start with the basics. This is going to be your crash course in fencing, everything you need to know before you touch the blade.”

Antoine, still filming, zoomed in on Charles’ face as he nodded, looking serious. “I’m ready, let’s hear it.”

“Fencing is one of the oldest sports in the world. It dates back centuries, originally used in dueling and combat training, but over time, it became more of a sport.” You explained. “In fact, fencing has been part of the Olympics since the very first modern games in 1896.”

“1896?” Charles repeated, very intrigued. “So, it’s been around forever.”

“Pretty much,” you confirmed with a smile. “Since then, it’s evolved into three distinct disciplines—foil, sabre, and epee. Each had different rules, strategies, and weapons. That’s what makes fencing so fascinating, you’re not just swinging a sword around. It’s a mind game as much as a physical one, that’s why some call it physical chess.”

Charles tilted his head, clearly interested. “What’s the difference between the three?”

“Come on, let me show you guys.” You walked over to a nearby rack, where several swords were neatly displayed, each one gleaming under the salle’s lights.

“This is a foil.” You picked up a foil, you held it up for him and the viewers to see. “It is the lightest of the three weapons, weighing about 500 grams, and the one I use. Foil fencing focuses on precision and technique, the target area is only the torso, and points are scored with the tip of the blade.”

Charles reached out, and you handed him the foil. He tested the weight of the blade, lifting and lowering it.

“It’s lighter than I thought.” He admitted, giving it a small swing.

“Foils are meant for agility and speed,” you explained. You then picked up a sabre, slightly heavier with a distinct curved guard. “This is a sabre. It’s a bit heavier, and the rules are very different. In sabre, you can score with the edge of the blade, not just the tip, and target area is the upper body—above the waist, including arms and head.”

“Sounds aggressive,” Charles remarked, running his hand along the blade’s flat edge.

“Oh, it is,” you chuckled. “Sabre is all about speed and attack. It’s fast-paced, almost like a sprint compared to foil’s more calculated, chess-like style.”

“And the last one?” Charles asked, pointing to the remaining weapon.

“This is the epee,” you said as you picked up the epee, handing it to him. “It’s the heaviest of the three, about 775 grams, and the target area is the entire body, head to toe. But in epee, there’s no right of way, whoever hits first, scores.”

Charles tested the epee in his grip, nodding thoughtfully. “So it’s more…straightforward?”

“In a way, yes,” you said, setting the sabre and foil back on the rack. “But it can also lead to longer matches since there’s no restriction on who can attack when, you need all the patience you can get when playing epee.”

The camera panned as you gestured for Charles to follow you back to the piste. “Now, let’s talk about the rules. In foil, which is what we’ll be learning today, the target area is just the torso. No arms, legs, and head. If you hit anywhere else, it doesn’t count.”

“Got it,” Charles said. “What about the scoring?”

“In foil, we use something called right of way. It means that the fencer who initiates the attack has priority. If the other fencer wants to score, they have to defend or parry first, and then counterattack.”

You picked up a foil and demonstrated, lunging forward in a quick, fluid motion. “For example, if I attack you like this, you can’t just hit me back. You’d need to block my blade first.”

“So, it’s not just about being faster, it’s about timing.” Charles frowned slightly, absorbing the information.

“Yup,” you said, impressed. “It’s about strategy and reading your opponent’s moves. Now, there are also some practical rules. The piste, the one we are standing on right now, is 14 meters long and 1.5 to 2 meters wide. If you step off, you lose ground or even a point, and you can’t use your off-hand to block, and obviously, no overly aggressive moves like charging into your opponent.”

Charles raised a brow. “No tackling allowed? Shame.”

“Not unless you want to get a penalty.” You laughed, shaking your head. “Lastly, to win a match, you have to reach a predetermined number of points, usually 15, or have the highest score by the end of the time limit.”

“Okay, I’ll give you a quick demonstration of how right of way works in a tournament.” You gestured for Marco to join you, and he grabbed another foil, stepping into position, as Antoine adjusted his camera as you stepped back onto the piste.

“Watch closely,” you instructed as you and Marco faced off. “Marco will attack, and I’ll defend and counter.”

Marco lunged forward with a smooth attack, and you parried, your blades clashing with a satisfying ring before you swiftly riposted, your blade landing lightly on his torso.

Turning to Charles, you explained. “Since I defended first and then countered, I get the point. Make sense?”

Charles nodded slowly, his brows furrowed in thought. “So, if I just swing wildly, it’s useless unless I have priority.”

“Yes,” you said smiling. “Fencing isn’t about brute force, it’s about control, precision, and strategy.”

“This all felt like a masterclass,” Charles chuckled. “This is very incredible stuff.”

Once Charles had a solid grasp of the basic rules and ths purpose of fencing, you decided it was time to get into the technical aspects.

“Alrighty,” you began, pacing in front of him, foil in hand. “Before you can start attacking, you need to learn how to defend yourself. So, let’s talk about parrying.”

“There are four primary parries in fencing, and each one is important for blocking and setting yourself up for a counterattack.” You added.

Charles nodded, gripping the foil in his hand as if ready to jump in. “Alright, I’m listening. Hit me with it.”

“Not literally,” you teased, pointing your foil at him briefly before continuing. “First is parry four. This is your standard parry, used to block attacks aimed at your torso. You bring the blade across your body like this.”

You demonstrated, twisting your wrist and angling your blade so that the imaginary opponent’s strike would be deflected away. Charles mimicked the movement, though his hand was stiff, and his blade angle slightly off.

You leaned in, using the tip of your foil to adjust his blade position. “Loosen your wrist a bit, it’s all about control, not brute strength. The goal is to guide their blade away, not smack it out of their hands.”

“Okay, okay. Got it.” Charles said, trying again. This time, his movement was smoother.

“Better,” you said, stepping back. “Next is parry six. The one is similar to parry four, but instead of protecting the inside of your body, it covers the outside. Like this.” You executed the parry with ease, your blade moving in a fluid arc.

Charles tried to copy the movement, his blade wobbling slightly as he adjusted his wrist.

“Close,” you said, stepping closer. “But watch your wrist, it needs to stay firm, or you’ll lose control of your blade.” You tapped the back of his hand with your foil, and he adjusted accordingly.

“Parry eight is for low attacks to the outside of your body.” You continued, moving on, and crouching slightly, angling your blade downward to demonstrate. “This one is a little tricky because it requires good reflexes. You’re aiming to protect your lower torso and legs.” Charles gave it a go, though his stance was a bit too wide.

“Too much space,” you said, tapping his knee lightly with your blade. “Keep your movements controlled. The smaller the motion, the quicker you can recover.”

“This is harder than it looks.” Charles exhaled, looking at the camera as he adjusted his stance.

“That’s fencing for you,” you said with a grin. “Last one, parry seven. This one is similar to parry eight, but it protects the inside of your body instead of the ourside.”

You demonstrated the motion, and Charles followed suit, this time managing a relatively smooth movement.

“Good,” you said, stepping back. “Now, key things to remember when parrying—keep your blade pointed at your opponent at all times. It’s not just about blocking, it’s about setting yourself up for a counterattack. As soon as you’ve parried, you need to riposte, counterattack, immediately. If you wait too long, you’ll lose your advantage.”

Marco stepped forward, foil in hand, and you turned to Charles. “I’ll show you how it’s done.”

You squared off with Marco, and as he lunged forward with a mock attack, you parried effortlessly, your blade gliding against his and redirecting it away. In the same motion, you extended your arm, blade tip landing lightly on Marco’s torso.

“See how quick that was?” You said, turning to Charles. “It’s a fluid motion—parry and riposte, all in one go. No wasted movements.”

Charles nodded, his brows furrowed in concentration. “Alright, let me try.”

You stepped aside, letting Marco face Charles. As Marco slowly lunged, Charles attempted a parry, though his movement was slightly delayed, and his riposte lacked precision.

“Not bad,” you said encouragingly. “But don’t overthink it. The more natural it feels, the faster you’ll be.”

“Okay, let’s talk about stance,” you said, planting your feet firmly on the piste. “Your stance is your foundation, if it’s wrong, everything else falls apart.”

You demonstrated, keeping your feet shoulder-width apart, one foot pointing forward and the other at a slight angle.

“Your dominant hand is the one holding the foil. The non-dominant hand stays behind you, raised slightly for balance. So, which hand are you using?” You asked.

“Right.” Charles said, switching the foil to his dominant hand.

“Good,” you said. “Now, copy my stance.”

Charles mirrored your position, though his back foot was slightly out of place.

“Close, but—” you tapoed his leg lightly with your foil. “Your back foot needs to be at an angle, like this. Don’t forget to bend your knees slightly. You need to stay low for balance and quick movement.”

“Not bad,” you said, nodding approvingly when Charles adjusted his stance. “Now let’s work on movement. When you’re in your stance, you need to be able to move forward, backward, and side-to-side quickly withou losing your balance.”

You demonstrated, gliding forward and backward with small, controlled steps. “Notice how my feet stay the same distance apart, no matter where I go. That keeps me balanced and ready to attack or defend.”

Charles followed your lead, though his movements were a bit stiff.

“Relax,” you said, smiling. “You’re not marching in the military. It’s more like a dance, fluid and controlled.” He tried again, this time loosening up slightly.

“Better,” you said. “Now let’s add a lunge, the lunge is your main attacking move. From your stance, you push off your back leg and extend your front leg forward, like this.” You demonstrated, your movement smooth and precise. Charles attempted the motion, but his lunge was too short.

“Bigger step,” you said, tapping his front leg with your foil. “You want fo cover as much ground as possjble without overextending.” After a few tries, he managed a decent lunge.

“Not bad,” you said, stepping back. “You’re getting there. Now, let’s put it all together—stance, movement, parries, and lunges. You ready?”

Charles grinned, gripping his foil. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Alright,” you said, picking up the body cord, “before we start, we need to get you all hooked up.”

Charles tilted his head, examining the cord. “What’s that for?”

“This is a body cord,” you explained, stepping closer to attach it to his fencing jacket. “It connects your weapon to the scoring system. When you land a valid touch, the electrical circuit completes, and the scoreboard registers the point.”

“So no sneaky hits?” He joked, watching closely as you secured it to his back and guided it through the sleeves of his jacket to attach to the foil.

“Not unless you want the referee to see it light up,” you quipped, making sure everything was in place before handing him a fencing mask. “Here, put this on.”

“For this first round, we’re keeping it simple, call it a trial run,” you said, rolling your shoulders and flexing your foil. “Marco will referee and keep things light. Just focus on getting comfortable.”

“Got it. Don’t go easy on me, though.” Charles raised his foil slightly, his excitement evident in his stance.

You laughed. “Trut me, Charles, I won’t.”

Marco stepped onto the side of the piste, holding a referee’s clicked in one hand. “Alright, trial run. I’ll call the touches. En garde!”

You and Charles took your positions at opposite ends of the piste, foils raised in salite before dropping into the en garde stance.

“Prêt? Allez!” Marco called, signaling the start of the bout.

Charles moved hesitant at first, testing his footing as he advanced. You let him come forward, observing his movements.

“Don’t forget your stance,” you reminded him, stepping back slightly. “Stay balanced.”

He nodded, adjusting his feet, and made a tentative lunge. Charles’ foil grazed your blade, missing the target area entirely.

“Close,” you said, countering with a light touch to his torso. Marco raised his hand. “Touch!”

Charles shook his head, laughing. “Okay, that was fast. Was that even one second?”

“Welcome to fencing,” you said with a grin. “It’s all about timing. Relax, though you’re doing fine.”

As the trial run continued, Charles began finding his rhythm. He landed his first touch on your shoulder, earing a quick ‘touch!’ from Marco.

“How does it feel?” You asked, stepping back for a brief pause.

Charles grinned under his mask. “Not bad! Are you nervous yet?”

“Me? Nervous?” You teased. “Cute. Let’s see how you handle the next round round.”

The second round began, and Charles was much more deliberate in his movements. He used the parries you had taught him, successfully blocking two of your attacks and landing another touch on your shoulder.

“Not bad, Lord Perceval,” you said, nodding as you reset your stance. “You’re learning quickly.”

“Of course,” he replied, his voice light with mock arrogance. “I’m a Leclerc. We adapt fast.”

By the end of the round, Marco called for a pause. “Alright, let’s use the scoreboard for the next one.”

“See this?” Marco said, pointing to the display. “Every valid touch will light up here with a beep. First to fifteen points wins.”

Charles noticed the screen, which displayed yor names, complete with small Monaco flags next to them.

“Wait, you personalized it?” He asked, laughing. “Now I feel like I’m in the Olympics.”

“Of course,” you said with a grin. “Nothing but the best for my big brother.”

Charles chuckled, lifting his foil again. As you adjusted your own, you bent the blade slightly, an action that caught his attention.

“Why are you doing that?” He asked.

“It’s something all fencers do,” you explained, holding the blade up for him to see. “Foils are flexible, and bending them ensures they’re in good condition and won’t snap. It also helps make the touches more accurate and less painful.”

“Huh,” Charles said, mimicking the motion with his own foil. “Interesting.”

“Alright, this is it,” you said, lowering your mask. “First to fifteen.”

Marco raised his hand. “En garde! Prêt? Allez!”

The boug began, and Charles quickly demonstrated his growing confidence. He moved fluidly, landing a few clean touches on your torso and arm. You could see his competitiveness kicking in, and you responded with sharper attacks, forcing him to parry and riposte.

Halfway through, the score was tied at 7-7, and the beeping sound of the scoreboard filled the room with each touch.

“You’re doing great.” You said during a brief pause.

“Thanks,” Charles replied, panting slightly. “But I’m not letting you win.”

“Good,” you said, resetting your stance. “Because I’m not letting you win, either.”

The intensity ramped up in the final stretch. Charles managed to land three more touches, bringing his total to ten, but you quickly countered with a series of precise attacks, pushing your score to fifteen.

Marco raised his hand as the final beep sounded. “Touché! Match for her—15 to 10!”

“Lifting your mask, you grinned at Charles, who pulled off his own mask, shaking his head in disbelief.

“That was incredible,” he said, still catching his breath. “I actually thought I had you for a moment there.”

“Well fought, champ! Ten points is impressive for a first timer, you did really great.” You said, resting your foil on your shoulder. “But I told you, fencing isn’t easy as it looks.”

Charles laughed, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “Yeah, no kidding. I think I’ll stick to racing.”

Marco, who had been observing with a smile, stepped in. “You were actually good for a beginner. You’re a fast learner, Charles. I’ve work with a lot of first-timers, and not many can pick up that quickly.”

“That’s true,” you chimed in nodding. “You were way better than I expected. Usually, people take ages to figure out how to lunge properly or keep their stance balanced.”

Charles’ grin widened. “Well, what can I say? It’s in my blood to be competitive.”

Marco laughed, clapping Charles on the shoulder. “You should come by more often during her trainings. You’d make a good parry partner.”

“Oh stop feeding his ego,” you said, rolling your eyes playfully. “It’s already huge.”

Charles gave a mock bow. “Keep it coming, Marco. I’m soaking it all in.”

Marco just smiled as the camera zoomed in on you both as he continued. “Not, really, Charles. If you’re free diring off-season, you should consider it. You’d give her a good challenge, and it would keep her on her toes.”

“Hmm…” Charles leaned on his foil again, pretending to consider the offer. “Fencing during off-season. I might actually think about that.”

You laughed. “Sure, if you can handle beaten every time.”

“Bold words. But we’ll see.” Charles grinned. “So, what’s next for you? You’ve already won the Olympics. Where do you go from here?”

“Next up is the Fencing World Cup. It’s coming up in a few months, so I’m focused on preparing for that.” You smiled, feeling the excitement bubbling inside of you.

Charles nodded. “If people want fo follow your journey, where can they find you?”

“Everywhere.” You said with a laugh, then added, “but seriously, you guys can follow me on my social media. If you are curious about up coming tournaments, you can check out Team Monaco’s offical instagram. They post all of the updates there.”

Charles turned to the camera. “There you have it, guys.” He then faced you and Marco. “I just want to say thank you, for real. I know your schedules are crazy, and you took time to teach me something completely out of my comfort zone. I really had fun.”

“You’re welcome here anytime, Charles.” Marco smiled warmly. “You’re a natural. Who knows? Maybe one day, you’ll be on the piste at a tournament.”

Charles laughed, shaking his head. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, but I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

“You did great today,” you grinned, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll see you fencing for Monaco one day.”

Charles smiled. “Only if you promise not to embarrass me in front of everyone.”

“No promises.” You teased.

Marco gestured toward the camera. “Alright, shall we wrap this up?”

You, Charles, and Marco all faced the lens. “Thanks for watching!” You said with a wave. “Remember, fencing is cooler than you think.”

“And harder than it looks!” Charles added. “Thank you both for taking the time to teach me, I had a blast today. It’s always fun learning new things.”

“Of course, Charlie!” You replied warmly. “We’ll be waiting for your next fencing session.”

“You’re always welcome, Charles.” Marco smiled. “Just don’t take too long to return, alright? We might have to recruit you into the team at this rate!”

All of you laughed as you said your goodbyes, and with that, the video came to a close, screen fading into black.

twitter posts

yn.jpg

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbestfriend, lilyzneimer, landonorris, lilymhe and 88,746 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, gaiusthecaracal

yn.jpg just a regular day at the office (bonus: taught charles fencing, see slide 4! 😁)

view all 10,837 comments

username8 never knew i needed to see charles in a fencing gear up until now 😮‍💨 THANK YOU MOTHER!

landonorris can’t believe you taught charles first, i thought i was gonna be the first one 😞💔

yn.jpg sorry, big brother privileges 😔✊🏻

charles_leclerc what she said! 😁❤️

landonorris i see that you have taken my advice

yn.jpg yes, and i owe it all to you sir 🫡

landonorris when will u be our quadrant athlete 😔🤲🏻

yn.jpg idk bro, what do they do? 🤨

yn.jpg just hit up my personal coach 😁

landonorris ME NEXT PLS

yn.jpg THERE ARE A LOT OF YOU WANTING ME TO TEACH YOU ALL FENCING 😭😭😭

lilymhe I ASKED HER FIRST! FALL IN LINE!!

landonorris IM HER BEST FRIEND

landonorris BESTIE PRIVILEGES

yourbestfriend EXCUSE ME????

landonorris EXCUSED

username9 WE FINALLY GOT A JPG ACCOUNT??? ACTIVE ERA IS UPON US?????

yn.jpg u guys really gotta thank lando for convincing me on making one bc apparently according to him, i always “ghost” you all 😞💔

username9 OHMGYGOSD I LOVE YOU 😭

username10 GAIUS 🥺🥺🥺🥺

username11 CHARLES WHAT ARE YOU DOING 😭😭😭

username12 petition for you to have a yt acc or tiktok or smth 😔😔😔😔

username13 and then what? we all ended up being ghosted 😔😔😔😔

username13 she barely posts on instagram, and now that she has a jpg account, i’ll take what i can get tl have some y/n content 😔😔😔💔💔💔

username12 omg u right 😭😭😭

username14 ok, scuderiaferrari, just hear me out this once…what if y/n teaches charlos fencing on a tiktok or yt vid? huh huh huh, wouldn’t that be a great idea, right? 😁

scuderiaferrari hmmm, i think you might be onto something 🤔🤔🤔

username15 i will sacrifice my first born for this to happen 🤲🏻

username16 we are BEGGING, on our knees

username17 charles leclerc in fencing gear, save me. charles leclerc in fencing gear, save me 🛐

[blackghostm2o]

Lil stupid story time . Pfft, hahaah. (Plus ramblings about the series itself)

So… My fried and I were trying to watch And “Then there were none” or “10 little Indians” she remember watching a rather new movie about it (probably 2017/2018) but we couldn’t find it neither in Italian nor in English (even tho now that I think about it, at least me, it could have been confused this with “Murder at the Oriental Express” which actually came out in 2017).

And, a bit desperate, I was: “Do you know any actors? We could look up their name and we could search it between their movies.” She clearly didn’t (understandable) and was looking at the cast of the 2015 BBC miniseries and slowly read “Charles Dance”. And I repeated the name and then it clicked, the actor that was Erik in the 1990 miniseries! So I was “CHARLES DANCE!?!? YOOOOO!!! I wanted to see something else in which he was in!” And now I was much more eager to see this version of it, heh.

THIS MINISERIES IS REALLY GOOD THO, you should check it out.

SPOILERS AHEAD (I need to yap about this a lil). BIG YAPPING SESSION, BEWARE.

The miniseries has 3 episodes, each 1 h long.

I haven’t read the novel (my friend did) and the only thing that I know is that everyone dies (I asked her), but not who’s the killer.

I love how right from the start there’s this atmosphere of uneasiness: the place is gloomy, the music is ominous, the guests seem to barely tolerate each other (which is true) and the circumstances of how they where invited are a bit strange. Also really like how you see all the characters slowly going mad (some more than others), abandoning all their nice facades and giving in to their more unpleasant characteristics, also slowly accepting what they did and confessing to it (not everyone obviously, but the endgame people sure do)

Basically the 10 people here are all guilty of something (the 10 lil Indians or soliders) and get killed based on a nursery rhyme, by the same name, tho some actions are more dire than others and the order of the killings are based on that (my friend made me notice that).

The ten little soldiers and how they are killed (not in order):

- Mr and Mrs Rogers: the keepers of the house. He killed a wealthy woman in her sleep (basically pulled a James Sunderland) and his wife didn’t denounce it. The man got slaughtered with an axe (foreshadowed by a long sghot (?) of the axe) (chopped himself in a half”) and the woman killed in her sleep (probably with the pillow) (“overslept himself”)

- General MacArthur: General during WWI. He discovered that his wife had an affair with a good friend of his so he shot him in the head and… Yk… He was counted as a victim of the battlefield. Well… His wife died shortly afterwards, because of the Spanish flu so it was all useless. Gets his head cracked open outside the house. (Stayed in Devon).

- Dr. Armstrong: a doctor who was specialised in female neurosis (how lovely), he obviously was a fucking misogynist. He failed (really badly) a surgery… Probably was too drunk for it? He is shown drinking to alleviate the shaking of his hands, so probably did the same in that occasion. Medical malpractice, yay! I really find it amusing how the was one of the first ones to loose his marbles… He really went crazy and paranoid, didn’t trust Philip and especially Vera (they heated each other’s guts a lot, making jabs at each other right from the start). He was the most fragile of the guests and the most unbalanced, really ironic considering how he treated people with neurosis. Found outside near the coast all wet and with seaweed on him, probably drowned. (“A Red herring swallowed one”)

- Anthony Marston: the first to die. Your average rich young man that could do whatever the fuck he wanted with daddy’s money. Was obsessed with cars (he treated his own like his wife, my god). Always speeding, run over 2 children, says that it was their parents fault, because they have let the children out at night (it was in the countryside and they had some lamps). This mf, who doesn’t feel guilty, only got his license revoked for 6 months, no jail time no nothing… Really annoying mf, used to take “stimulants” (drugs, but our good gentlemen obviously cannot use that rude and unstylish word). Killed with Cyanide (“chocked himself”).

- William Blore: a pig (policeman). As pigs do, he has beaten a criminal to death, he should have let him go, but didn’t do it. One of the last standing ones, he breaks down when left with Philip and Vera and confesses, he also reached the deeper end and was “What if we are all already dead and this is just Hell?”. Him talking about his lil piece of land, gives him some humanity and makes us almost feel bad for him. Stabbed to death (“A bear hugged one”)

- Emily Brent: I’m a bit confused about her character… She’s into those teaching circles, about what a good woman should do and whatnot and had taken a girl “under her wing” to teach her… My confusion comes from here… There’s a scene in which she is sucking the bleeding finger of the girl, so sexual tension… Does that mean the she SA the poor girl and then abandoned her when she wanted to tell everything? Then the girl threw herself under a train… She got stubbed at the neck with a crochet hook (“A bumblebee stung one”)

- Philip Lombard: a mercenary, killed 21 men for some diamonds (your average white colonialist). In his case I was pretty sure that he wasn’t the killer, it would have been too obvious, he is the only one that immediately admits his crime. He is a sick mf for what he has done, but he is in peace with himself, really nonchalant about it. He gets shoot by Vera Claythorne (multiple times), because she didn’t trust him, as I said he was the obvious choice (a gun for hire, man with no morals) and the “only other left” besides her. (“Frizzled up”)

- Vera Claythorne: a secretary. So… The series wants you to believe that she’s the one last standing, there are many shots in which she is seen with a noose (like at the start when she was in the train) or something related (the hook on the ceiling)… So you are like: “Everyone has to die, so she’s killing everyone and then herself.” Tho towards the end Bill gets killed and she is following (not closely) Philip and this throws you off a lil bit: “It couldn’t have been her. Are they just killing each other, because they cannot trust anyone???”. It is shown her true story, how she wanted to kill Cybill so Hugo could get rich and then live a happy life with Vera (what a bitch… Poor child) and this leaves you a bit shocked (a pretty big twist, am I right?), because throughout the whole thing she seems the more guilty ridden of everyone so you don’t expect that shit. She goes to hang herself (obviously). (“He went out and hanged himself”).

NOW THERE’S THE REAL BIG PLOT TWIST! SPOILER!!!

You might say “Hey! What about the 10th person?” LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT THAT MF, MY FRIEND.

THE REAL LAST PERSON IS THE JUDGE LAWRENCE WARGRAVE!… (Charles Dance, btw)

This man was a judge and was really well known for the fact that he watched every hanging of the people he sentenced to death, so we are lead to think that this is another sick fuck that enjoys this shit. His crime is convicting a dude (don’t remember his name) who apparently was a serial killer, but the way this is shown and the fact that he refused the hood makes us think that in reality he was innocent. While watching this I wasn’t really convinced by his mannerisms… He was too calm, too collected for that situation, everyone was going mad (even Philip) and it is mentioned that he had cancer (tho HE tells us that he was able to get rid of it)… So I obviously was: “Ok… It has to be him, he doesn’t have anything to loose, probably the cancer will come again and is TOO collected. I don’t trust this mf.” But then HE GETS SHOT TO THE HEAD!!! So obviously we all are: “Oh… So it wasn’t him… He’s dead… Huh.” And you are still left to wonder who is the killer. The thing is , AND I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS, HE IS NOT DEAD!!!! HE MADE AN ALLIANCE WITH THE DOCTOR (who was too paranoid of the others and already had shown trust to the judge “we are both fine and intelligent men, not like these other people”) TO FAKE HIS DEATH WITH SOME LIVER AND OTHER ORGANS (previously shown missing in the fridge). THE DR CHECKED AND PRONOUNCED HIM DEAD AND EVERYONE BELIEVED HIM. Those 2 met outside at night and Wargrave killed Armstrong…

The scene in which he appears made me loose my shit: we have Vera trying to hang herself and then we hear rustling and THE FUCKING JUDGE OPENS THE DOOR!!!! Then they talk, she is slowly dying of asphyxiation because she lost her balance on the chair and is barely touching it and begging Wargrave to help her and to give the blame to Philip. After calmly sitting next to her he starts listening to her (while watching her dying) and hen explains everything and how that specific hanging (of the serial killer, who, btw, was NOT INNOCENT) made him realise how similar they were, tho the dude killed innocents and he only guilty people. He also says that the cancer was spreading (so he really had nothing to loose). Listens to Vera’s pleads for help in such a cold way, probably used to it and most likely finding her revolting (for what she did and for how quickly she wanted to betray Philip, they had sex the previous night and were being together a lot). He’s also pretty sassy here, because she was asking why and he was “I have a strong sense of duty (he explained previously in the 3rd ep to the remaining people.) I thought that I made that clear.” She was also saying that he couldn’t kill himself because the gun was empty so to help her, then he shows one bullet “You forgot the bullet that killed me” and gets up AND NONCHALANTLY TAKES HER CHAIR AND GOES AWAY AFTER CLOSING THE DOOR.

The last scene is him going to the dining room setting 2 glasses of wine and 2 tissues at the opposite ends of the ramble, cleans the gun and shoots himself and the gun slides to the opposite end of the table. He is smiling.

I loved this miniseries so fucking much, that’s why I’m blabbing about it. Oh, Wargrave’s character is fantastic. This is a very well written story, the tension… The uncertainty… The twists, I should try to read some of Agatha Christie’s novels.

The actors did a good job :)

[pedricos]

boyfriend headcanons with the birthday boy cubarsi

Pau Cubarsí – boyfriend headcanons .ᐟ

a.n: happy birthday big booyy!! eng is not my first language, sorry

warnings: none, just very fuffly!!

₊˚ bf!Pau who will accept do every tiktok trend you ask him to do with you.

₊˚ bf!Pau who is the perfect photographer bf.

₊˚ bf!Pau gives you shy kisses when you compliment him!!!

₊˚ bf!Pau who will carry you around if you ask to.

“your feet are hurting? come here!”

“are you tired of walking? here, cariña”

₊˚ bf!Pau who will give you his shoes if yours are hurting you.

₊˚ bf!Pau whose family loves you so much!!!

₊˚ bf!Pau who lovesss to hear you yapping about your day.

₊˚ bf!Pau who always asks for you to show the things you bought.

₊˚ bf!Pau whos slowly learning about make up for you.

₊˚ bf!Pau who is just a baby in a big boy's body.

₊˚ bf!Pau who will bring extra coats cause he knows you gets cold easily.

₊˚ bf!Pau who take notes on what you say you want to buy it for you!!! it's expensive? he doesn't care, as long it's for you.

₊˚ bf!Pau who likes secret make out sessions between breaks on his training days.

₊˚ bf!Pau whose first time was with you, and was happy knowing your's were with him.

i love cubarsi smm, happy birthday for himm!!

im still taking requests!! bye bye, hope u like it 💋

[patchiko]

I’m kinda curious to hear about the other Jason (not Arkham knight Jason, I’m so sorry I know he’s Bby girl) head cannons on pussy eating? 🤭

Comic!Jason Todd and Eating Pussy!! (HC’S, So basically yapping session)

THE ONLY DIFFERENCE IS HOW PASSIONATE THEY ARE THE FIRST TIMES IT HAPPENS

Comic!Jason.. will eat pussy like a starved man.. no matter what.

first, second, fifth, twentieth, a hundred and second. every time that big ass white man has a pussy too close to his mouth he turns into a god damn dog

it takes ak!jason awhile to get comfy with showing how badly he wants it but WERE NOT TALKING ABT MY WIFE RN

he’s moaning, whining, humping the bed, and gripping your thighs

totally wont come on the spot if you pull his hair!!

will eat pussy anywhere!! at anytime!!

his eyes are so fucking blown out when he’s done.

legitimately he looks like he popped 20 percs when he actually just popped pussy.

[sonotkari]

Meaningless

Hanni Pham x Fem reader

[ Synopsis ]

When, Where, and How did you and Hanni become so close? What was the start of the yapping duo's relationship?

Fluff

[ Word Count ]

1.6k

[ a/n ]

I'm struggling with my other fics so in the meantime I'm dropping this off to feed my children (I'm sorry I just need MORE TIME) This was just something I wrote without my two brain cells actually functioning so heads up for that info! /ᐠ｡ꞈ｡ᐟ\

My dearest and my loved ones dis for u bae <3

Somewhere in your mind, you'd wonder how everything started but never recall the moment. Maybe it was that one time way back in March when she sent you a picture of pudding flavor ice cream because apparently, it reminded her of you. Or maybe it was when you ranted about how you had volleyball practice almost every day with no breaks making you lose your shit soon. The question of how you became so close with Hanni had come up in your mind from time to time but it would always end up with no answer. It's really not that big of a deal, where an answer was needed asap, no, it was like those shower thoughts or maybe those random questions coming up in your head at 3 am while listening to music on your headphones, something like that. Regardless, whatever or however the conversation started, you were very grateful for it because now you have someone on your side who would listen to your random yappings whether it was about that hallway crush or that annoying History teacher who mostly talks about his life rather than teaching the class. 

The memory recalls when that one time she asked about your MBTI which was trending off at that time for who knows why. You did it once before it became popular and didn't think much of it since you never really understood a thing. You just did it anyway because TikTok told you so. So why not? But to think of it now, you made a good life choice of taking a 15-minute survey with just two of your brain cells working. Because now you both were texting each other nonstop knowing you were matching MBTI's with her. "I knew it. You sound like an INFP" "What's that even supposed to mean" And in the very end, Hanni fell asleep in the middle of texting, debating whether fairies are real or not. 

Most of the time the text messages and everything else were random. Except for that one time when she got into a (not so) fight with her best friend, giving her the cold shoulder. It was about something that triggered her which made her feel uneasy. You remember clearly how Hanni had asked you to come to school earlier than you usually did because she wanted company. And how she confessed she wanted to get things back to how it used to be with her best friend while crying on your shoulder in the bathroom. Encouraging her to speak her feelings to her best friend, after some days she was smiling excitedly rushing her way to you, grabbing your arms, saying she finally "did it" telling her best friend how she felt, and now they're back on track. 

In class, she would be seated beside you and always giggle about small little things making you hold on for your dear life to not suddenly burst out laughing in the middle of the session because, for some reason, you were so easily affected by her. Her smile makes you smile, her laugh makes you laugh, and her cheeky grin addressed to you makes you roll your eyes and look at her in a sidelong look with a small smirk on your lips. Others would point out or look at you both with dumbfounded expressions because you both wouldn't stop giggling every 5 minutes and everyone in class already knew whose voices the giggles belonged to because of how frequently it would happen. 

It was before summer break had started and you were ranting at Hanni about how you won't be seeing each other once the break starts. "You'll miss me, right?" became a habit of yours to say in your everyday convos, and her replying with a "Will I tho?" made you smack the girl's arm as a set, and that also became another one of your (bad?) habits. You wanted to squeal and jump around hearing her respond "Of course" to your ask if you could randomly call her because of how you'd probably miss her a lot and feel sad out of the blue due to the lack of her presence. Talking on a call wasn't your thing because you only have two brain cells that don't function well and you left your vocabulary somewhere making you end up in a stuttering mess but, you'd rather be a stuttering mess to Hanni than spend 2 months without hearing her voice. 

One memory from another, you recall another happy moment with her. She was in the cheerleading team and you promised you'd see her cheer on the day of the game but sadly you got a high fever the night before and had to inform her you couldn't get to see her first cheer on her first game. You couldn't help but think about the disappointment in the girl's face especially when she was eager for you to come and watch. The temperature got a bit better the next day and you were debating to yourself. Yes, your head was panging in pain, yes your body was a bit hot, and yes you feel numb moving and basically doing anything. But will it be worth it to bear everything just so you could see Hanni's surprised happy expression when you go and watch her? Oh yes. You know damn well everything's worth it when it's about Hanni. 

There you were in a rushing mess, running around your room while trying to get dressed, finding the other lost pair of socks while holding a cooling gel sheet for your forehead in your hand. Running wasn't good for you since it'll make your temperature go high again but all the rushed efforts will go to waste if you missed it. Is there any other choice? Of course not, silly. By the time you got to the gates of the school, all you could hear was the rhythmical beat of your heart with your panting, trying to calm yourself before you entered the gym. Of course, she was the one who noticed you first. There it was. The face. The expression. The dimples that would show every time she smiled. Excitedly rushing to you and showering you with questions about your fever state. "Weren't you not feeling well? What are you doing here― are you okay? Are you about to pass out?" "I just couldn't miss your cheer. I for sure would've regretted it if I stayed home" Your (maybe not so bad) habit had definitely influenced her as you felt a gentle smack on your arm along with a soft giggle from the girl.

The leaves began to lose their vibrant colors, crisping up and slowly falling down with the cold breeze flowing by in November. You asked Hanni to go out and hang out in this cafe your friend told you that had the best pudding in town, which she happily agreed to, and now both of you were walking in circles at the same place lost. Having no sense of direction and the Google map not being useful at all, you decided to give up going to the place. But someone doesn't seem to be happy about it. "What do you mean, let's go to a different shop?" "No, it's fine we can just go in another time. Besides it's cold and you're not very good with the cold" You looked at the flushed red tip of Hanni's ears and nose as you mumbled. "I'm not giving up. You were so excited about the pudding, so we're going to eat that goddamn pudding" And now you were walking again with Hanni by your side but this time, you were holding hands to "keep me warm if you're that worried" 

"What are you smiling so giddily about?" You snap out of the memories and look at the girl looking at you with concerned looks. "You look creepy to be honest babe..." "Oh shut up" Replying with a playful snicker you stood up from your seat and walked your way to your girlfriend hugging her from the side, resting your chin on her shoulder. "Hey, do you remember how we became friends?" Shifting your gaze to her, slightly tilting your head as you asked so. "Uhh... I don't... think so..." She now looked at you with a puzzled look. "I think we just went with the flow" "Haha, wow I went with the flow and got a girlfriend? Must be a mastermind then" Smackng your arm, Hanni outed a chuckle. "Hey, remember when I used to smack you like that a lot but now we switched positions" "Oh I'm definitely influenced by you. Bad and good" You mocked an offended expression, holding your chest dramatically. "What's that supposed to mean...!?" Hanni laughed again and went back to making her coffee. "I definitely remember that one time you came to see me cheer with a fever" It was your turn to out a chuckle hearing her recall the memory. "Hey how about that one time we went out but then got lost midway?" "Yeah, and you insisted on finding the place, even making excuses to hold my hand" "Aaahhh shush! Shut up! I was 16 leave me alone!!" Hanni sheepishly laughed which made you laugh again as well. 

"We had meaningless conversations all the time, talking about random stuff" Sighing softly as you linger your thoughts about your past friendship with Hanni. "What do you mean, meaningless?" Hanni was now stirring her coffee, blowing it occasionally as she fixed her gaze at you. "All the conversations we had, meant everything to me" She took a sip of her coffee along with a sigh and stared at you again. You could feel the affection from her gaze and can't help but feel your chest get warmer every second with the small smile and the little dimples on her cheeks showing.

Every moment we spent together means more than anything to me than you'll ever know. 

Hanni secretly, quietly thought to her mind, while smiling at the woman she loved most.

yappers falling inlove r so cute

[suhkusa]

EGOIST 22. FINAL.

PAIRING. Atsumu Miya x f!Reader

CW. timeskip, angst, fluff, little surprise at the end

A/N. this is it!!! thank you for those who have stuck around for the past year, i'm sorry it's taken me this long but i hope it was somewhat worth the wait!!! i enjoyed reading your comments and asks about the series sm. this series challenged me in many ways, but helped me get back into writing. i love u all sm and thank u again <3 ps if u have any questions or want me to answer some “whats if”s feel free to send an ask!!!

-> MASTERLIST.

3 YEARS LATER.

Atsumu is absolutely hyped. 

He’s finally here, the real big stage. The Olympics. 

Never in a million years would he have thought that he’d get here alongside many other amazing volleyball players. He’s snapped out of his thoughts when he hears his name being announced, leaving from under the stadium seats to run out to the main courts, allowing himself to flourish in the loud cheers. 

Atsumu was on his A-Game, he didn’t care who he’d have to go against, he was determined to win. 

The rest of his team came out shortly after Atsumu, the group of them huddled up near the coaches as the other team was loudly called out. The first match they had was against the U.S, and something about that sounded familiar, though he didn’t bother to think too much into it. He squinted as he listened to his coach yap about doing good out there and not let them get under their skins.

After the other team is lined up, the Japan team is lined up in front of them. There’s some commencement announcements that are being played on the speaker, allowing Atsumu some time to enter the zone. 

When the whistle blows, everyone takes their positions. Atsumu is ready. 

The match starts with the sound of a buzzer. And everyone is on the move. 

The U.S’ team was definitely a challenge for Japan’s, but after the rigorous training they’ve been put through, the win was more than easy to steal, the match ending at the 4th set with Japan named the winners.

Everyone cheered as they celebrated their victory in the main court. As Atsumu’s eyes scanned through the U.S’ team, his eye was caught on a woman who stood by the coaches.

His gaze went right past her at first until he backtracked and looked again, this time more intently. 

The adrenaline running through his body stopped almost entirely as he froze in place.

It couldn’t be, could it?

–––

It’s hard to celebrate along with the rest of the team when his heart and his mind caught on to you. 

After going to multiple therapy sessions, he’d finally found it in him to let you go. From his mind at least, not so much his heart. 

But it felt like all the progress he was so proud of himself for making just washed down the drain. Just at the mere sight of you. Did you see him? Were you proud of him even though you were on the opposite side of the court? Were you involved with any of those men on that team? How have you been? You cut your hair? Seeing you let the many thoughts that he thought he had locked away loose. Though, he wasn’t sure if he was so mad at the occurrence.

Perhaps it was fate’s cruel way of reminding him that his past never really goes away. But even so, he knows better than to go out of his way to find you. The last time he talked to you was a hard time in his life, and you made it more than clear that you wanted nothing to do with him.

“You coming, Miya?” his teammate, Sakusa Kiyoomi, called out to him. The two had been chosen from the MSBY team together, alongside Hinata and Bokuto. 

“What, where?” Atsumu replies, a confused look on his face as his eyes meet Sakusa’s.

“The guys wanted to go to the Olympic Conference party, it’s at the facility down the street,” Sakusa is applying hand sanitizer to his hands as he continues, “Participants in the Olympics are all invited, but you don’t have to if you’re tired,”

Atsumu gets up, stretching his limbs out before finally deciding on going. “Sure, I wouldn’t mind getting some fresh air,”

The two of them join the others as they make their way into the shuttle that’d take them to the Olympic Conference. 

The place is bigger than it looks on the outside. He sees people from the swimming events and even the ice-skating events. The amount of people nearly overwhelms him, which is surprising for Atsumu Miya since he usually enjoys parties. He wasn’t quite sure where to go so he opted to follow Sakusa around, joining him in getting a drink by the bar.

“Be sure not to drink too much,” Sakusa turns to the other man as they both down the drinks they were given. Atsumu gives him a funny look, “I’m serious, we still have matches to play,”

“Obviously, I’m not stupid,” Atsumu rolls his eyes, “Just needed something to take the edge off, y’know?”

Sakusa raises his eyebrows in turn before gesturing to Atsumu that he was gonna go. “Oh, I’ll follow,” Atsumu replies.

“You sure?” Sakusa looks back at him.

Atsumu confused, an eyebrow raising in response, “What? Yeah, I don’t have anywhere else to go, Shoyo and Kou already went their own ways,”

“Ookay, then,”

Atsumu is surprised as he follows Sakusa through the crowd. He wonders where they’re going as they leave the big crowd and make their way to the smaller party rooms. 

“Kiyoomi!” a voice calls, and it causes him to freeze in his steps.

The other man walks a bit further up, leaving Atsumu behind. Atsumu watches as a smaller figure embraces Sakusa in a hug. 

“It’s been a while, Y/N,” 

The sound of your name was almost foreign. Genuinely, it feels like he hasn’t heard that name in a millenia. He isn’t sure if he should go or keep standing there like an idiot, but fate chooses for him as you let go of the black-haired man and catch a glimpse of Atsumu behind him.

This is what Sakusa was talking about.

“Oh,” falls from your lips, “Atsumu? Is that you?”

He feels almost faint at the sound of his name coming from your mouth, your voice. His response comes out on his own.

“Y-Yeah, it’s been a while, huh?” He curses himself for the tenseness of his words. 

You give him a smile, saying something to Sakusa that he can’t quite interpret before you walk closer to him. Were you coming up to him or walking past him? His mind turns to goo as you’re a breath away. 

“Did you want to come outside with me? It’s a little hot,”

It wasn’t that hot, it was actually somewhat cold, but Atsumu nodded and followed your lead. He doesn’t want to say too much, he’s scared. He’s scared if he were to say the wrong thing, he’d wake up from this dream.

Atsumu’s getting deja vu as you lead him through the big crowd and through the double doors. 

The two of you stand beside each other, letting the cool air blow past. It’s silent aside from the cars that drive by, and the distant music coming from inside. 

Atsumu is getting anxious with every passing second, he can’t stop himself from speaking. 

“How have you been?” He's thankful the words that escape are normal and not created off the impulsive thoughts he had earlier. 

He hears you take a deep breath before you respond, “I’ve been good, like actually. It’s really nice in California,”

You sound genuine and it makes him a little less tense.

“At first it was hard, since I only understood a bit of English, but I guess Duolingo really helps you out,” you laugh, “But I’ve met so many people, a lot of celebrities especially since they come to the games sometimes,”

“That’s good, Y/N,” Atsumu gives. He’s not sure what else to say. 

There’s a hesitant look in your eyes, “How… how have you been?”

“I’ve been good, too. My brother recommended me to his therapist so I did that for a while,” your eyes widened in surprise at that. 

“That’s good, Atsumu,”

He nods, “Yeah. Other than that, it’s been the same old, just playing volleyball,”

The two of you sit in another round of silence.

He’s surprised when you’re the one who brings up the subject he’s been dying to know.

“Have you been seeing anyone else?” your eyes find a place in the opposite direction of him.

“No, not at all. Not since, well, you know,” he beats himself up mentally for the way he worded that. Was that necessary? “And you?”

“Nope, I’ve been too busy, but I’d be lying if I said I’ve been celibate while here,” you let out a breathy laugh. “Party culture is huge in California,”

Your words prick a little at Atsumu’s heart, but who was he to judge?

“That’s cool,” a faux laugh escapes his mouth.

“I’m sorry,” your words caught him off guard, “I can’t lie to you, I have your name blocked on everything, so I didn’t know you were on the Japan National Team, but I’m proud of you,”

“It was definitely a shock to see your face from across the court,” you continue. “I hate to bring up the past, but I’m sorry for how harsh I was that night,”

“It’s fine, it was my fault,” Atsumu smiles down at you.

“Time away allowed me to really get in tune with my emotions and thoughts, and I finally think I was able to really forgive you. I mean not that it matters, I just think seeing you made me feel nostalgic,”

He laughs, “No, I get it. I feel similar,”

“To be honest, I wasn’t planning on seeing or talking to you at all during my time here. I was hoping we just wouldn’t cross paths, but I’m glad we did talk. Genuinely,”

“Same, Y/N. I’ve been thinking about you since I saw you on the court, and it was really scary considering I haven’t thought about you that much since years ago. But talking to you really helped, and I think maybe I finally got the closure my therapist was talking about,”

You share a small smile, “That’s good,”

The wind blows a bit harsher, the passage of time didn’t really click with Atsumu until now.

“You want to head inside?” he holds an arm out, which you hook onto.

“Sure,”

The rest of the Japan team are huddled in their own little group when the two of you approach them. Shot glasses are shoved into your hands before you can rebuttal. 

“I really shouldn’t–” Atsumu pushes. 

“Just do it, Tsum-Tsum,” Bokuto smiles.

Cheers, echoes through the air as the lot of you raise your glasses and down the hard liquor.

“I’m gonna find a seat just in case I collapse,” you whisper into his ear. He chuckles to himself when he remembers how much of a lightweight you are.

“I’ll come with,”

He’s surprised how quick you are to start yapping. Laughing as you go on and on about your ventures in California. It’s interesting though. The states made you glow and have definitely changed your demeanor. 

“I miss home, though,” you whine, “But I’m glad I’m coming home soon,”

Your words cause a brow of his to rise, “Soon?”

“Did Omi not tell you?” you mumble, there’s a confused-worried look on your face, “I’m coming back to Japan after the Olympics,”

“What?”

Your eyes widen, “W-Why? Should I not?”

“NO- I mean no, that’s great news,”

He can see you visibly settle down at his words. The two of your bodies melt into the couch as the time passes. He’s looking around, watching the other party goers have their own fun. Your breath falls into harmony with his own. 

The news you just dropped on him was definitely a shocker. He wasn’t quite sure how to process it.

Would you be coming back to MSBY? Probably not, huh? Maybe a nearby team? Maybe he should stop getting ahead of himself. He looks down at you, your eyes are dozing off. 

“Atsumu,” your voice is small as it calls out for him.

“Yeah?”

“Do you still like me?”

FORGIVE OR FORGET

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