#this is my first time doing something like this I hope it makes sense
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sunny-knight · 2 days ago
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oh….. the THINGS i would give for a @forgettable-au movie……..
gang- okay…
The vision of Papyrus and Gaster at Wingdings’ funeral…. was so vivid in my head. And now its going to be there forever. and i have 0 complaints.
Dunno if any of you have played Omori, but SPOILERS!
the context to this is kinda like the Blackspace segment. Papyrus is in his head sorting out the shit he needs to sort out through metaphors n such. But Gaster is also there because he can do that because theyre the same person (IT MAKES SENSE)
I imagine that whole thing happens right after Papyrus regains all his wingdings memories like he gets knocked out or something- IM MAKING A LOT OF ASSUMPTIONS HERE LIKE HE MIGHT NOT EVEN REMEMBER, EVER!!! I REALLY HOPE HE DOES!!! BUT!!!
Just let me have my silly fanfics…
After a lot of fighting and agony over the question of WHO IS PAPYRUS? ESPECIALLY AFTER HE’S LEARNED TOO MUCH?
it ends with a somber scene of putting Wingdings to rest, letting his 2 halves live their own lives.
Papyrus asks “Why did you do this?” as in… Why did you bring me here? and why did you do what you did? throwing yourself into the void?
Gaster has the same answer for both of those questions
Thats my theory, I think a lot of Gaster/Wingdings’ ambition, in game and in comic, is just curiosity
TIME FOR SOME FUN LITTLE EASTER EGGS!!!
In the first frame, theres a raindrop in front of Papyrus’ eye socket, meant to allude to Wingdings’ eye lights.
Also the field is filled with Echo and Golden flowers. Echo represents Wingdings, and Golden represents Papyrus. Gaster is just Gaster, don’t worry about him
I also had fun making the save point star look sorta like a cross from the distance…cause yknow…heaven….TEEHEE
I got emotional putting “dearest brother” on the grave cause I couldnt put any more stuff like “closest friend” or “dear son”….Sans was kinda all he had…
and lastly heres some bonus behind the scenes stuff because I have enough room for it
some sketches, and a speedpaint with the best instrumental song ever made from the best liveaction movie ever made that has absolutely nothing to do with the forgettable au (Little Miss Sunshine - “THE WINNER IS”)
Highly recommend, 100/10, makes me UGLY SOB, think the undertale gang would like it (especially Papyrus and Undyne)
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trashytracktales · 2 days ago
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Love the Lando fic. I am soooo desperate for a really smutty Max fic. He’s been feeling down that he hasn’t been winning and his best friend jokes she’ll give him head if he wins the sprint in Austin. You can guess the rest. I really in some need for friends to lovers smut
So we ride | MV¹
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none of my works are available for reposting on other platforms.
© trashy track tales, 2024
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💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── Thank you so much for loving my previous work!! I hope you like this one as much 🤍🎀
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𐙚 summary ──── She’s been there for him even before his career in F1 took off. And now that Max is struggling, there’s no other place she’d rather be than beside him.
𐙚 pairing ──── Max Verstappen x she/her reader
𐙚 rating ──── explicit
𐙚 category ──── F/M
𐙚 warnings ──── +18, smut, descriptive language & descriptive paragraphs (because I can't stop yapping), mature/sexual content, fingering, unprotected sex, friends to lovers, Filthy Mouth Max, swearing.
𐙚 word count ──── 4.4k
𐙚 date ──── Nov. 4, 2024
𐙚 a/n ──── I swear I planned to make an absolute filth out of this one, but somehow, I low-key ended up giggling and kicking my feet by the end. Nice 👌🏻
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THE DISTANT CHEERS still reverberate faintly from the paddock as she waits by herself in Max's room.
She has no idea why she's suddenly nervous. It's just Max. Her Max. Her best friend.
She's been in his driver's room countless of times before, but something has shifted. The energy is charged, somehow, with the weight of everything that’s changed between them over the past month. He’s been making more effort to be in her life, but even though she thinks he does it only because he needs a break from his hectic life, she's not complaining. Quite the opposite.
They’ve been talking day and night, sharing calls and endless text conversations. Every message, every call, and every laugh they’ve shared has pulled them closer, blurring the lines that they’d always kept so carefully intact.
Memories creep in like old songs she can't stop replaying in her head while she rests in the small space that smells like him — a delicious, subtle scent that lingers wherever he goes, a clean mix of sandalwood and a hint of leather from his racing gear, with just a trace of something so uniquely Max.
Without having the privilege to stop her mind, she lets it wander to the first time they met, long before Max secured his seat in Formula 1. Even though he was only a teenager at that time, he was ferocious and resilient, and anybody could see the determination behind his eyes, to the point it was almost impossible to turn and look away.
At least that's how she remembers him.
From that day on, she’d been there for every milestone. Every point earned, every setback, every win, every lose, every title, every new girlfriend, and every break-up. She never questioned him, even when others criticized his aggression on track and his obsessive desire to win. She was aware that he had a cause to fight for and a lot to prove. And she understood that in a way that Max had told her no one else did.
She knows him better than anyone. Maybe because they go so far back. Or because he trusted her enough be unapologetically himself around her. They had always had a tight bond and, at some point, they ended up giving in to temptation. They were each other’s first, and even though both of them were so bad at it, that moment still remains until this day a mix of curiosity and comfort that neither of them had found elsewhere.
But they were young and very much not in love, and they didn’t want to lose themselves in the process. It made more sense to stay friends, because when it comes to relationships, timing is everything. He was going to be away all the time, and she couldn't wait for him — not that he would have ever let her do that. Max Verstappen is selfish in every aspect of the word, especially when it comes to the people he cares about, and she has always been his soft spot.
Being far too deep in thought, she barely hears the door open, flinching slightly as Max storms in, a tight smile plastered on his face.
“You’re here?” he asks in surprise, the second he sees her laying on the two-seater couch.
The first thing he notices is a papaya orange cap, and a Red Bull jersey that she stole from him two seasons ago, neatly tucked into her black skirt.
“Well, you won,” she shrugs, articulating her words, thoughtfully. “That was a cute drive.”
Max laughs, tracing a hand through his messy hair, “Cute?” he asks, raising an eyebrow in her direction.
“And simply lovely, congrats!” she giggles at the use of his catchphrase.
His skin is glistening with a mix of sweat and that post-win adrenaline that's still in his system. Even though it was just a sprint race, a win is a win. She can tell he’s tired, but he’s more alive now than she’s seen him in weeks. The second half of the season is not treating him well, and it has been hard for Max — though not impossible — to keep the cofidence up, given that the top step of the podium seems to get further and further away with each race week.
He even told her that he misses hearing the Dutch national anthem. Coming from Max, that means something.
It's frustrating, but he manages.
“Thanks,” says Max, leaning against the door as he unzips his suit, tying a knot with the sleeves around his waist.
She can’t help but take him in — his messy helmet hair that she always makes fun of, but secretly finds very, very attractive, the damp collar of his racing suit, the helmet marks imprinted on his rosy cheeks, and the muscles in his forearms flexing as he crosses his arms, still buzzing with energy.
“How’s Martin?” Max continues, the corner of his mouth lifting in a teasing smirk while he crosses the room to sit next to her.
The room itself it's pretty small — just the couch, a table with his water bottle and energy drink scattered on top, and a change of clothes resting on a shelf nearby. But despite its plainness, Max’s presence fills every inch of it.
“He had the nerve to shush me when I started singing your song after you crossed the finish line,” she admits.
Max laughs again, a deep, rich sound, making the walls seem to hum with it. He leans back, his arm draping over the back of the couch, close enough that she can feel the heat radiating from him. His scent is still there, more pronounced now that he's actually in the room and so close to her.
“You looked amazing out there,” the girl continues, turning to glare at Max, “Like you were fighting for more than just a win.”
“And you were in the wrong garage to see it. Isn’t that so sad?” he asks, his gaze softening as he studies her.
With a gentle touch, he takes her cap off and throws it across the room.
She gasps dramatically, pretending to be affected by his gesture, “That's bully behavior.”
“No, that's hideous and it ruins your pretty outfit.”
“Just say you're jealous, and I won't wear it again.”
“I'm jealous,” Max admits it in a heartbeat, making her breath catch.
There’s something raw in his expression, something he’s kept for himself for a long time. He reaches out, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair from her face, the back of his fingers lingering against her cheek.
She bites her lower lip as she looks down at the tiny gap between them, trying to act like none of this is making her head spin, “Good to know. I'll come in full papaya gear at the next race.”
Max gives her a ‘don't push it’ glare, his hand sliding from her cheek to rest just a fraction of an inch away from hers. “I didn’t expect you to be here,” he murmurs, his voice rough with somethings she can’t quite decipher.
“I told you I'll come if you win.”
They both pretend to believe her insinuation, even though they know she always cares about Max, not just when he wins races. Which circles back to the conversation they've had last night, and the way she tried to motivate him; it's been on their minds constantly throughout the day. It was just a joke, sure. But still, Max took the podium, and unconsciously credits her with a small percentage of his performance today.
When their eyes meet again, the air is suddenly suffocating, as if the past is racing back between them. She has no idea who moves first and, somehow, Max's hand finds hers, warm and steady. It’s just a simple gesture — delicate, innocent, but somehow it feels like so much more. It anchores them in the present. It keeps them aware of each other.
“That's the thing, no? You’ve always been there for me,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “Even when I didn’t deserve it. And I want you to know that I never took you for granted. Not once.”
“Max…” she's not often at a loss for words, but when she hears his, it's hard for her to say anything else.
Every barrier they had both put up and every wall she had ever created around their friendship seems to be collapsing the moment Max starts caressing the soft skin of her hand with his thumb. There is an undeniable desire between them, and they are both aware of it. However, their bond is much more important than a passing feeling. Right? A feeling that forms like a warm ball in her stomach, and makes his heart pound even faster when he notices her breath intensifying.
“In my eyes, you always deserve it,” she assures him, deciding to intertwine her fingers with his.
“Is that so?” he challenges her.
She nods, “You deserve to have everything you want because I know how hard you work to—”
Max leans in, just slightly, his voice dropping to a murmur, “I wants us.”
Her heart races as she meets his eyes — a flawless ocean blue, in which she would gladly bathe. Or drown, even.
“I want you,” he continues, his free hand traveling to her bare thigh, squeezing it slightly, “I want to stop pretending like you’re not driving me fucking mad, and that I don’t care who you’re giving your attention to.”
For a moment, they both hold their breath, his forehead dropping against hers.
“Is it clear enough what I want?” asks Max, and she nods again. “No, baby. I need words,” he frowns against her skin, as if it pains him not to get her confirmation. The confirmation that he waited so long for, but didn't feel he had the right to ask for.
Until it was too much.
Until now.
“I hear you,” she finally replies. “But what if—”
“If, if, if,” he cutts her off. “I don’t give a fuck about imaginary scenarios anymore. If it's not what you want, tell me to stop, and I will.”
But she doesnt.
Instead, she spreads her thighs wider to make room for his hand to move forward — all the confirmation he needs. He grins instantly, closing his eyes for a split second, living the same feeling he gets when he's on the podium after a hard-won race, letting it all soak in.
Max’s hand is trailing further up her thigh, unable to help but keep the smirk on when he realizes that whatever they feel for each other, is mutual. He runs his finger lightly over the top of her lace panties, letting out a low sigh at the way her body responds to the slighlest touch. In return, she wraps her arms around Max's neck, looking at each other in anticipation. They know it right away — it’s like the fall of the Bastille, the moment before a revolution, when restraint gives way to a desire too powerful to ignore. They both know that after this, there’s no going back, no way to rebuild what’s been broken or control the outcome.
They know it’s not a calculated risk, and it can end so badly, but when Max leans in to kiss her — a kiss meant to suck every ounce of doubt out of her — the walls come crashing down. They melt into it, all the tension fading away. The hand between her thighs is now working her at the same pace as the kiss, soft whimpers cascading from her into Max’s mouth, making him lose it.
He almost can't believe this is really happening. But it’s as real as his win, and all he needs for tonight to get better is to bury his fingers in her cunt, preparing her for his cock, and pump her full of cum until none of them can take it anymore, just to make up for all the time they've lost while they were dancing around their insecurities.
Without any warnings, he drops to his knees between her legs as she lets her head rest on the back of the couch, her chest rising and falling with deep breaths.
Max decides to take it slow.
Even if he doesn't want to admit it, he is afraid that maybe this is just a momentary lapse, and he won't get to have her like this for who knows how long. Therefore, he needs to take his time, savoring everything she's willing to give him. Now.
He gently pushes the thin fabric of her panties to the side, running his index finger over her slik, getting coated in her wetness even before he's halfway up to her clit. His thumb starts to gently rub against her warmth in circular motions over her soft skin of her moud, automatically feeling the urge to look up at her as she clasps her hands against the edge of the couch, her knuckles turning white.
His mouth goes dry.
“God, do you always get this worked up?” asks Max with a husky voice, trying to ignore how annoyed he gets at the thought of her pussy dripping as a result of someone else's touch. “Has anyone ever made you this wet?”
She shakes her head, covering her mouth with her hand, but Max is way too focused on parting her folds with his fingers to register her whimpers and the way she's fighting to keep quiet — these rooms are not only narrow and practical, they also have extremely thin walls. Plus, her glossy, red clit is more captivating than any answer she'd give him.
The truth is, he doesn't even care, because his only goal now is to ruin her for whoever comes after him.
“So pretty,” he muses, pressing one digit inside, her pussy growing wetter as it tightens around his finger. Which encourages Max to add one more right away, gently scissoring them to stretch her out. “Fuck,” he exhales, as she pushes her hips into his hand.
“Max…” she drops her hand just as he's curling his fingers inside, touching her sweet spot repeatedly, pumping in and out with precision.
“Does that feel good, schatje?
“So. Good,” she whimpers, closing her eyes at the feeling.
Max’s fingers start moving faster, establishing an agonizing pace, his eyes watching her reactions intently, seeing her back arching.
“Look at you, fuck,” he swears, leaning in to graze his lips against her thigh, leaving tiny kisses in their wake while he keeps his eyes on her.
A few more pumps of his fingers are enough to feel her clench hard around him, and finally letting go. Her moans are echoing in Max's ears like a siren call, tempting, potentially dangerous, while his fingers help her riding out her orgasm. His free hand is gently caressing her side the entire time, his lips pressing harder into her thigh, which makes her moan again.
“Gotta be quiet, baby. I can’t fuck you in here if you can’t keep quiet. And you want me to, yes? You want your sweet cunt fucked until you cum around my cock?”
“Mhm... The mouth on you, Verstappen,” she pants as quietly as possible, while grabbing his shoulders to pull him on top of her.
He helps her getting rid of her panties altogether, while their lips meet again in an explosion of new emotions, each more and more intense. Max knows their options are limited since it's such a small space, and doesn't hesitate to pull her into his arms, flipping them around so now he's laying on the couch, while she straddles him. His hands are instantly landing on her waist, listening to her giggle at the sudden change of positions.
“Hi,” Max smiles at her, his face radiating with pure excitement.
“Hi,” the girl parrots, wrapping her arms around his neck, tenderly playing with her fingers in the hair at the back of his head.
“You good?”
“I’m great,” she says, returning the smile.
“I fucking want to, but we don't have to if you have the slighlest doubt,” Max reminds her. “I'll jerk off in the shower later.”
She presses the pads of her fingers on his swollen lips to shut him up. “I want to,” she assures him, “I'm just scared it'll ruin us.”
Max cups her chin in his hand, his eyes heavy with understanding and the desire to prove her wrong, “Not gonna happen.”
“How are you so sure?” she asks, swallowing hard.
“I'm not, but I'll give you head if—”
She bursts out laughing as soon as she realizes Max is quoting her, “You are absolutely outrageous.”
Max keeps his hold on her waist as she shifts around, a slightly nervous but excited breath leaving his chest while she gets comfortable on top of him. “Tell me what you want, schat.”
In response, her fingers start fumbling with the knot he tied around his waist earlier, tugging at his fireproof with an urgency she can barely contain. Once her hands are making contact with his bare chest, warm and firm, she's sliding the rest of his racing suit past his waist, until it pools around Max's hips. She feels the rush as he pushes the rest of it down his legs, sucking in a breath of air at the sight of him.
“Max, you…,” she swallows the lump that got stuck in her throat, raising her eyes to look at him, slightly worried; nothing could've prepared her for how big Max is. “I've never heard you bragging about your dick.”
He chuckles at her words, his eyes turning into two adorable crescents moons on his face.
He's changed a lot over the years, of course. Max was only 16 when they had sex for the first time. But seeing him under her like that it's just a reminder of how small she feels against him now. His big hands can encircle her waist if he wanted to, and his arms could easily break her if he held her too tightly.
She looks down and notices the stark contrast between them: his broad shoulders, his strength, and their heights.
With her body nearly dwarfed by his, she is overcome with trepidation as she questions whether they will even fit together. However, she notices that Max is already trying to ease her concerns without saying a word, as he lifts her chin and meets her eyes with a tenderness that releases all the tension.
“You can take it, baby,” he assures her, guiding himself towards her entrance.
She lowers herself on him, slowly, intently, so easily that her hot cunt is practically sliding along his length, forcing Max to swallow a moan at how her wetness spreads over him. He pushes his hips forward, impatient, watching his cock disappear between her thighs. It drives them both absolutely crazy.
The intensity, the intimacy and all the places they make contact would normally be way too much. But then, Max pulls his hips down, only to fuck back in, feeling her relaxing on top of him.
The fit is perfect.
Her body is finally full. Complete.
“God, look at you,” he almost chokes, palming her ass under the skirt to help her spread more around him. “You're so beautiful.”
She cries out a moan, feeling as if her body gets split in two in real time, in the best way possible. His cock is so big that she's pretty sure she can feel him between her lungs.
Max means to say something else, but his words get stuck in his throat as the air gets knocked out of his lungs. A gasp leaves his parted lips as she sinks down on him completely — finally — his arms immediately wrapping around her waist, holding onto his girl like she's his lifeline. His chest sparks with a goran as he looks at her, the blue in his eyes darkening at the feeling.
“So tight, baby, I can’t wait to fuck you,” says Max, his hands getting lost under her shirt, palming her breasts. “You feel so good already. Gonna make me cum so fast,” he adds in a breathless mess, his heart pounding in his chest at the feeling of her body against his.
It’s a consuming feeling, that leaves them both senseless.
Max starts to move slowly, guiding her up and down his cock, until they set a steady rhythm. They're an amalgam of moans and gasps, as his hands rest on her waist tighter than before, fucking in deeper with each thrust. The sounds they make and the way they hold each other brings them together in a new way. It's scary and exciting and far too risky, but none of that matters now.
All that matters is the way she holds onto him, mouth ajar as they look at each other. She uses him to anchor herself while she sinks deeper, again and again, until pleasure is all she knows.
“Oh… Max. Max, please,” she beggs, the sound of them connecting reverberating throughout the entire room.
At the sight of her flushed face and parted lips, Max’s jaw clenches, his eyes trailing down her body to where they’re joined, just to see how she takes him in with such ease. The image causes a low groan to leave his mouth, his fingers digging into the skin of her thighs. She takes him so well, to the point of getting his own thighs wet as her pussy drips with their combined pleasure.
“You feel so fucking good on me, love. So good for me, that’s it,” he moans softly, his eyes falling shut to allow him to feel her everywhere in his body.
“Max… I can’t… Please, it’s too much.”
His eyes snap open to look at her again. Hearing her on the edge of desperation and feeling her body starting to shake with pleasure on top of him, it’s enough for Max to take charge, even though he’s not the one on top. Without a thought, he moves his hands back on her waist, holding her still as he lifts up his hips to start moving from underneath.
“Hold on to me, baby. I got you.”
He manages to send her to a whole another realm as he intensifies the pace, while the sounds of their bodies slapping together animates the room.
“That’s it, fuuuck. Let me take care of you,” he's breathing hard between thrusts, feeling dizzy as his climax builds, the heat in his stomach burning hotter.
He’s consumed by her in the most satisfying way — she is all that he feels and sees, her body pliant over his, her sweet noises in his ear being the only thing he can focus on as he looks at her through his lashes.
Max’s name cascades from her mouth, over and over again, until she starts clenching around his length — he knows that she’s close, and he’s right there with her.
His breath sounds shaky when he speaks again, “Where do you want me, baby?”
She knows that it's not a good idea for him finish inside her, but the thought of Max owning her like that gives her goosebumbs all over her body.
“Inside,” she gasps, burying her fingers in his hair and leaning over for a messy kiss. “Want to feel you...”
“Yeah, you want me to fill your pretty pussy? That you kept from me for so long?” asks Max against her jaw, his voice coming out in a low, sultry moan, just as a few drops of sweat gather along his hairline.
He lets his head fall back with a low groan, fucking his cock deeper and making her see stars in the process.
“Oh, god! Max,” she gasps, her voice coming out almost like a warning.
He takes it as an invitation to fuck her harder, feeling her tensing, then becoming boneless on top of him as he rides her orgasm. Max follows closely, moaning loudly as his hips move slopply, spilling inside of her, rolling his eyes at the feeling of her body milking his release.
“So fucking good, schatje.”
She wants to agree with him, but her mind is far too foggy and all she can do is run her hand over his skin, which is slick with a thin layer of sweat. She cups his face in her small palm while her other hand rests on his neck, sealing their lips together in a much slower, tender kiss.
Their tongues meet in a slow dance, tasting each other, making Max smile under it. She presses her forehead on his, a content smile appearing on her face this time, both of them completely blissed out.
Max’s hands runs along her thighs, admiring the feel of her soft skin under his touch as he speaks in a low, husky voice that still sounds breathless, “How the hell are you real?”
“Don’t ask me anything for the next five business days.”
He chuckles softly, giving her one more kiss before helping her up so he can gently pull out of her. She gasps again at the emptiness he leaves behind, feeling Max’s cum mixed with her own release oozing out of her. He swallows dryly, forcing his hand to gather up the result of their pleasure and fuck his fingers back in her cunt a few times before she collapses on top of him.
Max softens under her, tracing his hand through the waves of her hair, and for a moment, he looks as though he might say something. Something that could change the entire trajectory of their friendship.
Friendship.
He puffs out a laugh at the word.
“What?” she asks, curiously raising her eyes to look at him.
He looks so incredibly beautiful as he breathes slowly, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. When it comes to Max, his beauty goes beyond his appearance; beneath the fierce, self-assured driver the outside world perceives, he displays now a softness and sensibility that only she has access to.
“You still owe me a blow job,” he murmurs, his breath warm against her skin.
A laugh escapes her, soft and giddy, but as she pulls back, the intensity in his gaze remains.
Oh, he’s serious.
“I’ll find you tomorrow, after the race,” she says, her voice soft, almost as if she’s making a promise.
“What if I don’t win?”
She laughs, “A podium also counts.”
For now, that’s enough for him.
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thank you for reading!
reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎
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vitalverstappen · 3 days ago
Text
Homecoming SMAU - C. Leclerc
summary: have you ever had a massive crush on your team rival? (smau edition)
pairing: Charles Leclerc x Red Bull driver!reader
fc: various, just pretend they're all the same person
a/n: i kinda love this fic wayyy too much to let it go so soon, so I decided to make a smau version for your enjoyment!
written
masterlist
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liked by redbullracing, charles_leclerc, and 737,602 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: Didn't go how we planned, but grateful to snatch a point. Congrats to Charles for the home race win!
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charles_leclerc: thank you!! can't wait to celebrate later!
yourusername: lmk when and where and i'll be there!!
user1: wdym my two fav drivers are definitely about to get plastered together??
user2: they've been friends since she broke into f1, only makes sense they would user3: yeah "friends" he's been in love with her since he saw her for the first time
user2: no.
maxverstappen1: over/under on how long it takes for her to get ready? line is at 2.5 hours
logansargeant: over
landonorris: over
oscarpiastri: over
redbullracing: over
user4: there's no way she really takes THAT long
logansargeant: you'd be surprised
twitter & max's texts
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liked by user1, user2, and 36,583 others
f1gossip: some of the drivers out and about in Monaco celebrating Charles' home win!
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user5: whoever let lando dj needs a RAISE
user6: i heard logan and oscar were also there!
user7: is it just me or do charles and y/n look weirdly close together??
user3: im telling you guys there's got to be SOMETHING going on between them
user2: again, guys and girls can be just friends.
user6: it's also a club. they're gonna be packed together
user8: i don't even want to know how much money they spent
monza media day
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liked by: logansargeant, francolapinto and 673,842 others
tagged: logansargeant, francolapinto
yourusername: wdym i'm now the only one here repping the red, white n blue?? but in all reality, it's been an honor getting to know you Logan, you'll always be my best friend & I can't wait to see what you do in the future!!
but welcome to the grid Franco! you've got some tough shoes to fill
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logansargeant: thank you y/n. gonna miss you <3
yourusername: at least now you wont have to spend the 4th in the UK... again...
francolapinto: gracias y/n! No puedo esperar a ver qué trae el resto de la temporada!
yourusername: i have no idea what you just said but yes!!
user9: oh she's just like us
user10: girl is down bad
user2: @/user3 no like from Charles... how are you feeling after this?
user3: by the end of this season i'll be yelling i told you so from the rooftops
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liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and 987,325 others
tagged: yourusername
redbullracing: The queen of COTA has arrived! 🇺🇸
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user11: ugh she's glowing
user12: her austin looks always slay
user3: CHARLES IS BACK IN THE LIKES! I REPEAT CHARLES IS BACK!!
user2: you weren't kidding when you said you didn't give up hope
maxverstappen1: you guys better not be plotting to get me in a cowboy hat
yourusername: pffffft why would we do that??
redbullracing: fine, we'll go put it away...again...
charles_leclerc: if you need someone to dress up, i know a guy
user13: omg stand up king, this isn't even y/n's insta
yourusername: @/charles_leclerc wdym "you know a guy" you couldn't even wear your hat properly
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tagged: charles_leclerc, kimi.antonelli, jackdoohan, texasfootball
yourusername: hook 'em 🤘
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texaslonghorns: it was a pleasure to have you! same time next year?
yourusername: you know it! 🫡
texasfootball: thanks for the support! we'll have to get you suited up next year
yourusername: as long as i don't get tackled im yours
user14: awh y/n and charles are already starting to adopt the 2025 rookies
oscarpiastri: i do not need any more siblings
charles_leclerc: thx for showing me the joys of college football 🧡
yourusername: anytime charlie!!!
user15: CHARLIE?? girl WHAT?
user3: GUYS ITS HAPPENING!!
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liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, and 985,920 others
yourusername: P1 baby!! It's always special to race at home and being able to win it means even more! A weekend I'll forever remember ❤️🤍💙
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redbullracing: congrats y/n!! a win well deserved!
liked by yourusername
maxverstappen1: honor to be on that podium with you! let's run it back in vegas
yourusername: only in vegas??
maxverstappen: your ego is gonna get too big if you win everything else
user16: RAH RAHHHH AMERICA 🦅💥🦅💥🇺🇸
user17: U! S! A! 🇺🇸 U! S! A! 🇺🇸
charles_leclerc: congrats on the win!! now, drinks on me tonight?
user18: oh charles grew a pair
yourusername: @/charles_leclerc actually, i think i still owe you for monaco 😊
user3: 👀👀👀
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f1gossip: newest wag(s)?? charles and y/n were caught making out in a club in Austin. The two, along with the rest of the grid were there celebrating y/n's homecoming win. Cheers were heard from the other drivers as the two shared their moment.
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user19: oh. my. god.
user20: what in the romeo and juliet with a happy ending??
user2: @/user3 go ahead. say it.
user3: @/user2 I TOLD YOU SO. I TOLD YOU ALLLLL SO
user3: I DON'T LOOK CRAZY NOW. I KNEW IT
user21: what does @/redbullracing have to say about this
redbullracing: i'm just glad it isn't one of the mclaren boys mclaren: we wouldn't date you either its fine
want more? @coco-loco-nut wrote a sister story. Check it out!
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clockwayswrites · 3 days ago
Text
Uncle John Part 2
masterpost
Even though Bruce knew what he was opening the door to, it was still almost startling to see John Constantine shielding two teenagers on the other side. The oldest was a redhead, though Bruce could only tell that from the fierce eyebrows. The hair of both teens had been shaved so close to the scalp that it was basically nonexistent. From what little Bruce could see of the second, behind the protective forms of John and the red head, the second teen’s head was also bandaged from what little Bruce could see under the hood of the thick sweater.
Whatever they had been through was clearly no small matter.
“Who’s all here?” John asked as he entered, looking around the foyer as he slunk into the room.
The kids stayed close to his back.
“Just Alfred and Tim. Alfred is in the kitchen and Tim is up in his room, though he was excited to know that there would be other teens visiting,” Bruce said, keeping his personage open and calm.
Excited was at least an honest enough word for Tim’s curiosity that Bruce had tone his bet to tamper. It didn’t seem the time to pry and Bruce was sure to learn far more as he set up the new identities.
John’s frown said he knew exactly what excited meant for Tim.
“He can help us instead if you’d rather,” Bruce offered to keep the peace, “but I thought that the kids might enough just playing some video games and enjoying Alfred’s snacks while we worked.”
“Stop that,” John said.
“Stop what?” Bruce said, blinking guilelessly.”
“Making fuck’n sense.”
The kid in the hood muffled a laugh into the thick fabric. The sound made Bruce smile. It wasn’t so very bad if they could still laugh. It meant that there was still hope.
“Tim is my current foster,” Bruce said, as that was the easiest way to explain things. “I would guess he’s around your ages. And I’m Bruce, a friend of John’s.”
John snorted. “He comes off as a rich playboy, but he’s one of the good ones, if you’ll believe that.”
“Thanks for that rousing endorsement,” Bruce said dryly.
John just grinned back, his smile a little more teeth than normal.
“I’m Danny,” the one in the hood said, still mostly hidden behind the redhead. The voice was scratchy, like it have been overused recently. The fingers that clung to the too large flannel shirt the redhead wore were covered in bandages. “This is my sister Jazz.”
Jazz regarded him with frozen blue eyes. “If you do anything to hurt him, I will find some way to hurt you worse.”
“That’s fair,” Bruce said calmly. “All I want to do is what John asked me to: which is to make you new identities so that you will be safe. Well, I would also hope that you both could relax some and enjoy some of Alfred’s cooking. His cookies especially are something amazing.”
Jazz searched his gaze for a moment longer before almost reluctantly nodding.
“Would you be alright with Tim joining you two?” Bruce asked.
Jazz glanced back at Danny before nodding again.
“Let me show you to the media room then,” Bruce said and started leading the group that way. He kept up idle chatter about some of the games he knew that Tim had been playing just to fill the silence and make everything seem less threatening.
It was still hard to speak of Tim like a son, but easier than it had been when Bruce had been the very broken and irrational man Tim had first come to. If Gotham’s spirit hadn’t thrown a fit, if Constantine hadn’t gotten involved… Bruce hated to think how things might have continued. Bruce hated to think what sort of mentor and guardian he might have been to the boy.
It was hard, but it was better like this.
Bruce opened the door to the media room with a smile. “Make yourself a home. I’ll send Tim down and either he’ll bring snacks with him or Alfred, a demure British man who isn’t a serous as he seems, will bring them in.”
“Right, thanks,” Jazz said and pulled her brother inside with her. She closed the door on them.
Bruce looked at Constantine who rubbed calloused hands over his face.
“Yeah, mate, it’s… it’s rough.”
Bruce reached out and clasped his shoulder in commiseration.
---
AN: This was still stuck in my head so have some more! I'm thinking end game Danny/Jason, because it's me, and Jazz/Steph because Steph deserves to be a disaster bi with her own fierce, magic user redhead.
Obvious canon divergence due to the added ghostliness.
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yanmuffins · 11 hours ago
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waiter! waiter! more phineas and ferb reader pls!
I wonder how the batfam would react once they catch reader inventions on a random tuesday, like, "hm, what a nice day to look out on the window and HOLY SHIT WHY IS THERE A GIANT ROBOT SPITING FIRE WHILE RIDING A ROLLERCOASTER IN MY BACKYARD???"
the events that would follow this incident would be funny and exasperating, me thinks
also, wouldn't it be funnier if Perry the Platypus was part of the JL? and like, no one knows his identity but Superman, and neither of them are willing to talk about it-
I know it would be very unlikely, since everyone there would have enough neurons to recognize a platypus with and without a hat, but for the sake of shit and giggles, just think of how funny that would be
welp, I needed to get that outta ma chest, I hope I at least made you laugh a little, because seriously this is one of the best ideas I've seen in this tag and I can't stop thinking and giggling about it
Stay well!
context.
first: i was not expecting this concept to be so popular!! the responses i've gotten from everyone are so amazing!!  ( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝) thank you for the ask, anon!! it always makes my day.
i am formally announcing that i will be turning phineas and ferb reader into a fic now. it's too good a concept to pass up. something more light-hearted to work between the other fics i'm writing.
batfamily finding out about reader's whacky inventions would be an event. it so wholeheartedly shatters the image they had of reader to the point they just have to sit with what the hell just happened for a while before they even consider what to do about you next. still so many things that don't make sense. their newest case is how the fuck did we go this long without finding out (Y/N) has been building mechas in our backyard and why are those things always gone when it's convenient.
then the realizations just start dropping on them like an anvil on a looney tunes character. and they kinda feel like shit, cause how did they not notice? really puts into perspective how they've neglected you all this time. so many stunts you pulled right under their nose, on their backyard, their garage, throughout gotham and metropolis. ok, were out there being creative and amazing and you sure know how to spend the wayne family money, they'll give you that, but it was so irresponsible of you! who knows what could've gone wrong. you're not like them! you're a civilian with no training, the only regular teenager in the family, you're the last person who should be exposing themselves like that doing all that.
bruce goes off on you, screaming about how could you be so reckless, you did all of this behind his back– what? what do you mean he gave his permission? and he is floored, devastated, blood pressure up, when you remind him of every instance you dropped by his office with a document for him to sign or to ask for permission, with proof as you pull out every paper he signed without a second look.
and that, ladies and gentlemen, is when reader's dynamic with the batfam does a complete 180 and their little yandere antennae start going off. no more whacky cartoonish shenanigans. at least not without proper supervision. they know you're not a fan of this new arrangement, but you gotta understand they let you go unchecked for way too long! they'll drown you in family activities so you don't even have to worry about it. who wants to build a teleportation machine, anyway? just join them for family movie night.
as for perry, that is going to take them a while longer to figure out. bruce just can't stand another insane discovery like that, so when batman sees an intelligent platypus wearing a fedora and walking on two feet on justice league headquarters (if we're going by the idea that he's a part of JL), he's just going to think "my kid has a pet platypus. huh."
oh, consider:
dick: "damian, you knew all this time?! our sibling could've gotten into serious trouble! why didn't you tell us about this?"
damian: stares into the camera like he's in the office.
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just-dreaming-marvel · 2 days ago
Text
Cold
MAIN MASTERLIST / MARVEL MASTERLIST / CHRONIC ILLNESS MASTERLIST
Logan Howlett x Female!Reader
Word Count: 2,260ish
Summary: You are keeping your arthritis a secret. Logan knows that something is wrong and is frustrated that you won't be honest with him.
Notes: I hope this story even makes a lick of sense... I am not feeling the greatest as the weather is changing and I just want someone who will stick out the arthritis with me.
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Logan first sensed a change in you a few weeks after he arrived at the mansion. He noticed that you were quieter, moving slower, and being excused from training and other meetings. Logan brushed it off at first, but then it happened repeatedly. There was never a specific time or reason that Logan could pinpoint what was going on with you, and no one would explain it.
“Logan,” Storm sighed, exasperated. “It’s not my story to tell.”
“None of you seem worried,” Logan continued, voice tipping on anger. “Something is going on. She’s sick or something.”
“Why don’t you ask Y/N if you’re so concerned?”
Logan knew it was ridiculous not to go to you about his concerns, but he was still getting to know you. He felt like the two of you had barely become friends, and he didn’t want to ruin it. He actually enjoyed being your friend. You didn’t pressure him to do anything he didn’t want to, including talk. It was an easy friendship that he wasn’t used to happening. 
Logan could sense the change before you had even told him you weren’t up for your usual walk around the gardens. He tried to change the activity to something else, but you still excused yourself to your bedroom.
“I’m sorry, Logan,” you told him with a tight smile. “Maybe another day.” Then you slipped into your room.
Logan was completely stumped and slightly hurt by your actions. What was going on, and why wouldn’t you tell him?
~~~
You were young when you were first diagnosed. It was after your water mutation first appeared. They more you used it, the worse your joints got. The many doctors you visited each diagnosed you with a different type of arthritis. So you didn’t know exactly what you had, but you did know that with each weather change or over extension, especially of your mutation, your arthritis flared up.
Charles was the first person at the mansion to know about your condition, mostly because he was a mind reader. As you got to know everyone else, you slowly began to tell the others: Hank, Jean, Scott, and Ororo. Each of them was concerned that the arthritis seemed to be tied to your mutation, but you didn’t let that stop you. You still were a teacher at the school and a member of the X-Men, though you pick and choose what missions you went on.
When Logan first arrived, he was very closed off. Slowly, you got him to open up and feel more comfortable around you. The two of you began to rely on each other. You still hadn’t told Logan about your health. There was always some worry about how people would react when you told them. Oftentimes, it was pity and overprotectiveness; other times, they saw you as faking it. You didn’t know how Logan would see you yet and weren’t ready to know. 
You knew that you shouldn’t have tried to use your mutation too much during training, especially with the weather growing colder. You knew that it wouldn’t be a good reaction from your arthritis, but you chose to do it anyway. That’s how you ended up laying on your bed, barely mobile.
The knock on the door made you wince. Not having the energy to get up, you shouted as best as you could, “Who is it?”
“It’s me,” Logan’s rough voice broke from the other side of the door.
Your stomach felt like it was in knots. You couldn’t let Logan see you this way. Biting back a whine, you pushed yourself up and slowly limped through the door. Logan could sense your struggle from the other side. He clenched his fists to prevent himself from breaking down the door. When you opened the door, Logan immediately noticed how heavily you were leaning against the door and that you just had it opened enough for him to see you.
“Hi, Logan,” you forced out a smile. 
“What’s going on?” He immediately asked. “You haven’t left your room all day.”
“Oh, just… tired.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Logan—“
“I don’t want to hear anything but the truth.”
“I… I…”
“Hey, guys!” Rogue greeted, coming down the hall. “What are you—“ She paused, glancing between the two of you. “Oh. Is this a serious conversation?”
“No.” / “Yes.”
“I’m just gonna good.” She backed up a few steps before spinning around and running away.
“Let me in,” Logan requested.
“I’m fine, Logan,” you sighed.
“Then let’s go down to the Danger Room and train.”
“I trained this morning without you.”
“Then let’s go take a walk through the gardens.” 
You knew Logan would continue to pester you until you gave him an acceptable answer. What could a simple stroll really do to you? You were already hurting anyway. “Fine. Let me grab a jacket.”
You immediately winced upon turning around. Logan watched, eyes narrowed, as you tried your best to walk normally. Why couldn’t you just tell him what was wrong? You grabbed the jacket from the back of the chair at your desk and struggled to get it on. Logan stepped into your room, and took the jacket from you, helping you into it.
“Thanks,” you muttered.
Logan let out a grunt as he nodded. “Let’s go.”
As the two of you headed for the gardens, Logan had to slow down his usual pace. He kept an eye on you and the grimace you made with his step. The gardens were beautiful, though fall had settled in. You only wished that you could fully enjoy the beauty of your surroundings as you tried not to drop to the ground in sobs.
“Y/N,” Logan stopped his path and reached out to you. You pulled your hand away and immediately saw the hurt look Logan gave you. “Did I do something?” His voice was serious, though you could hear the slight vulnerability that he was trying to hide.
“No,” you slightly shook your head, almost immediately regretting it. “It’s not you.”
“Then what is it?”
“I’m just tired. I just need to sleep.”
“Bullshit.”
You sighed. “Logan, I—“
“No, it’s fine. You don’t want to tell me. You don’t have to. I get it.” Then he stormed off.
You sucked your lips in and looked up, trying to fight back the tears. You knew it was immature to be acting like this, but you didn’t know how Logan would see you after he knew the truth. Looking at the mansion, you grew tired just thinking about how hard it would be to get up to your room. You decided to find a bench in the gardens and rest for a little while.
~~~
The night quickly set in, and snow began to fall from the sky, though it was autumn. You were curled up on the bench you had found in the garden. Tears were frozen to your cheeks as you shivered uncontrollably. After sitting down to rest, you quickly found that that had been a mistake and weren’t able to get up. You were in too much pain, and that pain was only growing the colder it got.
“Help,” you rasped, able to see your breath in front of you. “H—Hel—Help…”
You could only hope that someone would find you before something really bad would happen.
~~~
“Hey, has anyone seen Y/N?” Scott wondered. “She missed dinner.”
“I think she wasn’t feeling good today,” Jean replied. “She’s probably in her room.”
“Someone should bring in dinner,” Ororo suggested. Those in the room looked at Logan, wondering if he would offer, but he remained silent. “Logan, why don’t you go?”
He scoffed. “I already tried today. Went on a walk, but she wouldn’t be honest with me.”
“You have to be patient, Logan,” Jean told him. “Y/N… well, she has reasons for how she’s acting. She’ll tell you in time.”
Logan gritted his teeth but slowly began to feel bad for storming off earlier today. “Fine.” He picked up the plate already prepared for you. “I’ll go.” He approached your room and immediately noticed the door was ajar. “Y/N?” He called as he pushed the door open. It looked like it had when he got you for the walk. “Y/N?” He walked further inside, peeking into the attached bathroom. You were nowhere to be found, which was concerning. He hurried back downstairs to the kitchen. “Y/N’s not in her room.”
“Maybe she went into town,” Ororo suggested. 
“No,” Logan shook his head. “It’s something else.” He looked at Charles. “Professor, can you sense her?”
Charles closed his eyes and reached out to you. It didn’t take long for him to connect with you. His eyes snapped open. “She’s in the garden,” he stated.
“Still?”
“Wait a minute,” Jean said, glancing out the window to see it snowing. “She’s in the garden now?”
“Yes,” Charles responded. “And we must hurry.”
“Hurry?” Logan repeated as the others rushed for the door. “Wait. What’s going on?” No one responded. “Damn it! Someone tell me!”
Ororo and Jean shared a look before Ororo sighed and stepped closer to Logan. “Y/N has arthritis,” she explained. “Overusing her powers and cold weather can make her flare. That’s why she was resting today.”
“Wait—She’s still outside. Shit.” 
Before anyone else could explain anything to him, Logan was running out to the gardens. Using his senses, he tracked you down to the bench you had found to rest on. You were curled up with a layer of snow on top of you, looking sickly.
“Y/N, sweetheart,” he rushed over to you. There was no response from you. “Y/N.” He tried to shake you awake, but nothing. “Come on, sweetheart,” he lifted you up to him. 
“Logan!” Jean shouted as she, Scott, and Ororo ran up to them. “Oh my—we need to get her to the lab. Now!”
The four of them moved swiftly to the lab, where Charles was already waiting. He set you down on the table, and Jean quickly went to work.
“It’s all my fault,” Logan muttered, eyes trained on you.
“It’s not your fault,” Ororo said.
“I got her out there; I left her there.”
“You didn’t know.”
“I knew that something was wrong. I shouldn’t have pushed her.”
~~~
It took a few hours for Jean to get you warm again. Charles had to keep you unconscious so that your body could rest. Logan stayed close by, watching over you. He kept an unlit cigar in his mouth, trying to use it to keep himself from tearing something apart—including himself. 
You moaned as you began to wake. Slowly, you opened your eyes and looked around the room. You immediately knew you were in the lab and could feel the tubes and wires attached to you. Your eyes widened as you saw Logan leaning up against the wall, staring at you with a cigar in his mouth. By the look in his eyes, you knew that he had found out the truth. Tears welled up in your eyes and began to slip down your face.
Logan tore the cigar from his mouth, pushed himself off the wall, and rushed to you. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” He asked. “Do you need Charles? Do you need more medicine? What can I do?”
“I—I don’t want your pity,” you cried.
Logan’s face fell. “What?”
“I don’t want your pity.” You turned your head away from Logan.
“Is that what you think this is? Pity? I was scared shitless when I found you out in the garden, sweetheart. I’m worried about you.”
“You’re already looking at me differently… that’s what I didn’t want.”
“How am I supposed to look at you? It is different. I know you have arthritis and that using your powers can hurt you.”
You looked back at Logan. “Yes, so now I’m fragile in your eyes. Just someone who should sit there and do nothing so that I don’t hurt myself. I can’t—“
“I would never want that for you, sweetheart. If I’m looking at you differently, it’s because I feel guilty for pushing you. You were in that garden because of me… It also could be that I’m amazed that you go through every day with pain, and you haven’t given up.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“I’m sorry for scaring you… and not telling you what was wrong.”
“I’m sorry for pushing you and leaving you out there.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“I’m gonna feel guilty for a while, sweetheart.”
“Please don’t feel guilty… And sweetheart? That’s new…”
“You like it?”
“Maybe.” You gave him a smile. 
“Seriously, how are you feeling?”
“I’m fine… I’ll probably be down for a few days, though.”
“Good thing I’m free to help.”
“No, Logan. I don’t want to be a burden—“
“You are never a burden. Got it? I don’t ever want to hear that from you again. Alright?”
“But—“
“Alright, sweetheart? Never again.”
“Okay…”
“Good, so,” he reached back and pulled up a chair to sit down beside you. “You need to tell me how best to help you. I can’t promise that I’ll remember everything, but I need to do what’s completely off-limits and what helps you the most.”
You couldn’t help the warmth that bloomed within your chest. No one had ever wanted to know how best to take care of you. This was different and would definitely take a lot of getting use to, but you were willing to try just as Logan was willing to try.
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waffle-runian · 3 days ago
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Not to diverge much, or to hijack the conversation, but I'm gonna write about "translating art" a bit. I hope that it makes sense.
So, this feels like when I first started reading fantasy. Writing is a form of art that I love very much, so I remember a lot about my first impressions and all. I specifically remember reading a book about magic, the first book I bought because I wanted to read and nothing else. It was in a world where magic would be a focal point, get described with care and detail. Then idk, a popular book series about a demigod teenager that could control water, and what do you know? The water was described in full, the friendship, different dialogues, puns, the color of the eyes.
Then I read another series, this one about a boy with a dream and with a reality that made it difficult for him to pursue it, of course, the description of his sadness was longer too, his physical attributes were important, and they got a lot of attention, but not all the time either, and not really that in depth. What got the most attention were the comparisons, where he came short, and where coming short of something was being ahead on other things.
I remember reading a book following the story of a bard. It was art about art itself, in my opinion. Everything was described vividly. Stunning visuals, I could almost hear a song that doesn't even have a melody, I could grasp the process of creation without creating. It was something I was very bad at, after all. The author could make anything look beautiful and magical, even when it was the most ordinary of things.
Then came the magic. Well, part of it. It was logic, almost physics-like, followed hard rules, and you guessed it, the process of creation through it was also interesting. But then came the magic. Again. The magic that was hinted at, the soft kind, the magical kind, the one you have been preparing for up until now. The one that would require you to appreciate the art in order to understand, to appreciate everything as an artist. To see beyond what it is, what it is made of, what it looks like. To see inside, to see what it can be, what it represents and what it wants. In a way, to see it for what it _is_ (a different "is").
From top to bottom
Mage - Raymond E. Feist.
Percy Jackson - Rick Riordan
Ranger's Apprentice - John Flanagan
The name of the Wind - Patrick Rothfuss.
Rothfuss' writing isn't for everyone in a different way than the others. I don't know if I could explain it if I tried, but honestly? I feel great that it's something fewer people appreciate. This is, obviously, my take on those books. The actual intent behind it may differ strongly, but I don't think it matters, since art is something normally made to provoke thought and feelings. We hope the audience can get close to what we meant to say, but when they don't, we are happy that they got to experience something positive from our words/drawings/songs, etc.
I see his as the most complex out of these, the one that resonated the most with me, I guess? Probably because of the main character being the most relatable. And if just the eyes that tell the story can change so much about it, shouldn't we put much more thought into what our art could look like for people that can't "see" it the same as us? Like I already said, most of the time, your meaning will be lost, so, if you're "translating" art, how can you get close to this new audience's heart?
I mean, translating is all about that too. You can't just use the best words you think of and be done. Brazilian dubbing is famous for making jokes almost never fall flat.
If you localize the joke, you get a better reaction than when you explain the joke that only works in the original language (even though I am the kind of person that learns a language to appreciate the original material instead, and that's the reason I speak english.)
Anyway, if I got something wrong, just correct me, and if I don't get it, I'll ask.
"In recent years, there has been a rush on the internet to supply image descriptions and to call out those who don’t. This may be an example of community accountability at work, but it’s striking to observe that those doing the most fierce calling out or correcting are sighted people. Such efforts are largely self-defeating. I cannot count the times I’ve stopped reading a video transcript because it started with a dense word picture. Even if a description is short and well done, I often wish there were no description at all. Get to the point, already! How ironic that striving after access can actually create a barrier. When I pointed this out during one of my seminars, a participant made us all laugh by doing a parody: “Mary is wearing a green, blue, and red striped shirt; every fourth stripe also has a purple dot the size of a pea in it, and there are forty-seven stripes—”
“You’re killing me,” I said. “I can’t take any more of that!”
Now serious, she said it was clear to her that none of that stuff about Mary’s clothes mattered, at least if her clothes weren’t the point. What mattered most about the image was that Mary was holding her diploma and smiling. “But,” she wondered, “do I say, Mary has a huge smile on her face as she shows her diploma or Mary has an exuberant smile or showing her teeth in a smile and her eyes are crinkled at the edges?”
It’s simple. Mary has a huge smile on her face is the best one. It’s the don’t-second-guess-yourself option."
--Against Access, by John Lee Clark, a DeafBlind educator
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lemoniiiiiii · 3 days ago
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sent from above
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(kai anderson x reader) in where you try to make your boyfriend's day a little sweeter
content: angst, use of knives (nothing crazy)
a/n: kai brainrot + maternal instincts combo goes crazyyyy
--
You sit on Winter's bed, watching as she sifts through boxes from her closet.
"You really do like my brother, don't you?..." She says with a solemn cadence.
You nod. "I do."
With a sigh, Winter hands you a faded piece of paper. It feels delicate, like it might crumble in your hands. "This is it…"
You trace the faded cursive carefully. "I won't tell him. I'll say I found it while cleaning. Thank you so much Winter."
"Uh- Yeah, no problem. Just… remember that he’s—"
"I know."
For weeks, Kai's paranoia has been ramping up, and you wanted to do something—anything—that might ground him, even briefly. So you'd gone to Winter, asking if she still had one of her mother's old recipes.
As anything was with Kai, this was a risk. This gesture could easily be turned against you; he might even accuse you of using his mother’s memory to manipulate him.
But for some reason you don't care.
--
Later, you're plating the dish when you hear the heavy clomp of combat boots, quickening as they approach, then coming to an abrupt stop.
"Perfect timing." You look up at your boyfriend and smile, holding the dish up slightly. "I made something for you."
Kai slowly walks to you, silent, calculating. He steps close—so close there’s barely space between you, with only the plate in your hands separating you.
"Apple Pie. The all-american dessert." Your words come out in a low murmur.
"Correct." He flicks open his pocket knife, carving off a bite and balancing it on the blade. "Open."
You part your lips instinctively, and he guides the piece to your mouth. As you bite down, the sweetness of the pastry mingles with a faint metallic tang from the knife's edge. Kai pulls it back with a slow precision, leaving a sharp taste lingering amid the warm notes of apple and spice.
Then, in a slow, deliberate motion, he turns the knife around, offering the handle to you. His eyes hold yours, dark and watchful, as you take it and mirror his gesture, bringing a piece to his lips. He leans forward, just enough to take the bite. As the familiar taste hits him, there's a shift—a crack in his steely facade. And for a split second, you see the boy he used to be, before everything turned dark.
Without a word, he raises a hand, a silent command for his guards to leave. They exchange glances but obey, slipping out of the kitchen.
Now, it’s just the two of you, alone.
He speaks in a whisper, but each word drips with a mix of wonder and suspicion. “She sent you… didn’t she?”
The words hang in the silence, and for a moment, his intense gaze softens, his brow knitting as if he’s trying to make sense of what he’s just said. “I knew it,” he breathes. “I knew she…”
He pauses, staring at you with a vulnerable intensity you've never seen before, like he's fighting to believe in something beyond his hardened reality. It's as if he's convinced that his late mother, somehow, some way, has sent you into his life—an angel, perhaps, to guide him, to protect him from the shadows he can't escape. The idea fills him with a fierce, quiet hope. His mistrust, his paranoia, all of it seems to melt away as he stares at you, searching for some sign, some proof of his mother.
You set the plate carefully on the counter behind you, keeping your movements slow and gentle, as if any sudden motion might startle him. Stepping forward, you raise your arms and slide them around him, feeling the tension that coils through his frame. Your hands find their way to his back, moving in soothing, slow circles, the warmth of your touch grounding him.
At first, he stiffens, caught off-guard by the unexpected embrace, his arms remaining at his sides. But gradually, as your hands continue their gentle rhythm along his back, he softens against you, letting the rigidity melt away. His shoulders drop, and you feel the faint rise and fall of his breath, a steadying rhythm that seems to settle him, little by little. Your touch is careful, maternal—each motion reassuring, as if you’re somehow reaching into the lonely places he’s kept hidden, places starved of comfort.
You press your cheek lightly against his shoulder, and the silence stretches between you, filled with a sense of calm that seems almost foreign to him. You can sense him leaning into the embrace, accepting the warmth you offer, maybe even craving it, though he would never say so.
--
tags (ask to be added or removed anytime!): @fear-is-truth @juliamaximoff @jazz-berry @violetsghosts @quickreider @tiffysdeath @honeymoon8 @wcnderlnds @lacucarachapisser @xrag-dollx @oceanblvd111 @andiloveher @vi0l3tgard3ns
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ollimus-prime · 15 hours ago
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HAIIII OLLIE !!!!1!1!!!!!!1!!!!!◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜ ◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜ ◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜ IM LOWKEY SOOOOOO EXCITED THAT YOURE WRITING FOR TRANSFORMERS ON A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT BLOG ENTIRELY MADE FOR IT!!!!1! + you already KNOW who it is — ITS YOUR BOY 😼😼 /ref
i’ve been tweaking so hard over tfone b-127 bumblebae boy bc he’s so auuuhhh — 😭😭 got me on my knees bc my type in men is so golden retriever boyfriends, BUT SPEAKING OF GOLDEN RETRIEVER BOYFRIENDS!!
i hope you don’t mind me requesting b-127 with a fem cybertronian reader who’s just his female counterpart drabble or hcs? like it’s giving yapper x yapper and golden retriever x golden retriever, no freaking doubt both fell for eachother the moment they introduced themselves and started to yap together. OK I TALK TOO MUCH, PLS TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF OLLIE!!! DRINK UP, EAT UP, SLEEP WELL AND TAKE BREAKSSSS!! Loves ya much :)
Yapper Adoration
A/N, not important: Hope you like it, Frankie. I tried my best. Also, it's Gender Neutral, not fem. Sorry! Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.
-Ollie
CW: N/A(unless y'all see smth I need to add)
Words: 554
Summary: B-127 finally has someone to talk to
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B-127 was first introduced to you via Elita-1. She had met you during her time in waste management, your bubbly and eager-to-please personality strikingly similar to B’s own. Elita-1, knowing she had two loud and boisterous bots that needed constant attention, stuck you together in hopes that you would both get along and stop bothering everyone else. To Elita-1’s delight and slight horror, the two of you stuck together like magnets.
B-127 finally had someone who not only was willing to listen to him, but someone who actively engaged in what he said. Not to mention you had worked similar jobs, causing a bond to form from the toil of sorting garbage and the dream of doing more. You were just as positive and rambunctious as him, causing B-127 to immediately latch onto you as his new best friend.
Not that you minded, of course. You had your fair share of bots who’ve been annoyed by your endless chatter, and finding someone who was similar to you in personality and mannerism was just as freeing to you as it was to B. Neither of you were much willing to separate after your first meeting. Despite Elita’s chiding of you both moving too fast, you had started dating the kind and energetic bot.
You’re also one of the only bots B-127’s met that didn’t immediately think he was insane. Sure, you’ve joked about his ‘friends’ that he made down in sub level 50 before, but he didn’t sense a hostility in your tone like most others seem to have. You encouraged his interests and helped him find new friends, showing support he’s never truly received before.
There’s never silence when either of you are around, both of you capable of listening to the other’s prattling just as much as you converse back and forth. Having someone willing to listen to your interests and engage with them is something neither of you really realized you needed. While you were definitely more socially aware than B was, you weren’t much better at keeping friends around.
You comfort him a lot after D-16’s departure, allowing him to express his feelings in a healthy way while dealing with his quick gain and loss of friends. He leans on your positive attitude to keep his intact as well, and he’s incredibly grateful to have you. He wants to have all of his friends back, but having you to lean on after losing one so quickly makes it easier to manage.
Neither of you ever stop bragging about landing each other, the both of you getting into basic lovers quarrels over who loves the other more. Whenever you’re seen together, you’re almost always touching in some way. Whether it’s holding hands, hugging, or leaning against each other, there’s not much that can make either of you stray far enough to not be glued to the other. It’s mostly for B’s sake, as being alone for so long really had to put a strain on his mental health. Being able to hang onto you is a good reminder you’re not only real, but that you’re not going anywhere.
He’s your best friend through and through, and feels super safe with you. He wants you to know you’re his favorite person and reminds you like, every few minutes. You’re everything he’s ever wanted.
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bunnys-kisses · 15 hours ago
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the dnf club (vol. 5)
nico hulkenberg
tags: smut/pwp, brazil gp '24, secret relationship, mechanic!reader, rough sex, dom/sub dynamic, oral sex (nico receives)
a/n: this is my first time writing nico! i'm a little nervous, but i hope ya'll love it!
carlos edition // franco edition // alex edition // lance edition
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you could feel nico's hungry gaze when he stepped into the paddock. this man stood at six feet tall, it could be a little intimidating. you knew the best course of action would've been to make a hasty escape and out of his field of vision.
but something quivered in you when he gave you another glance before his attention was pulled elsewhere. it lingered on you, in a way that made you stomach twist. while the dnf was not your fault, nico had every intention to pin it on you and you alone. that you'd need to correct your misdoing.
"how is my, prinzessin?" he said when he finally got you alone. a strong arm wrapped around your middle, "you promised me something before the race, didn't you? that you'd make me a winner." he leaned in further towards you, his weight pressed you into yourself, "guess that didn't happen."
you looked up at nico as he sat on the edge of the expensive hotel bed. his hand in your hair and down the side of your face. you squirmed. he was fully clothed, the haas logo across his chest. you on the other hand were stripped of your clothes. the kit you wore when you were out of your mechanics clothes.
while the haas logo wasn't across your pretty chest, nico's dark hickies littered the skin instead. when he got your naked, he left enough bruises to remind you exactly who you worked for. you were hired to make him win and he guessed he just had to get you into peak shape.
"i'm sorry you didn't win, sir." and to do that, meant a familiar game of dominant and submissive, "i'll do better next time." you shifted on your knees a little before he took you by the face. you looked up at him. there was something strong and domineering about him. it was almost scary. it made something comb through you as he roughly patted your cheek.
"see, this is what i like to hear. you behaving." the power dynamic was undeniable. he had power over you and you knew that you fell right into it.
he got his cock out of his jeans and you dutifully went in and touched it with your lips. soon your mouth was fully on it with his hand in your hair. most would feel a sense of defeat when faced with a dnf. but not nico. nico was more than happy to get the frustration out on you, his cock ruin you for an evening.
you were a good girl and took his entire length as best as you could. you didn't like silly things like you gag reflex get in the way of pleasuring him. making him feel good. he tugged at your hair and curled over you to admire how you choked down on his cock. that was why you two made such a good team, you were nico's little stress toy. anytime he felt the pressure of racing, he had a soft cunt to bully his cock into. he knew he wasn't just having your throat tonight. you taking his cock in your mouth was just a taster for what he truly wanted. to be balls deep inside of you.
"you're perfect." he said, "you have no idea. i know you gave me a little failure, but, i can look over it. i know you were just so stressed that you had a little mishap. but that's okay. i forgive you." he pinched your cheek and you looked up at him. you moaned a little bit as you continued to pleasure him.
you made a small noise and nico pressed your further head further against his cock. your nose in his pubic hair before you continued your heavy thrusts of his cock. you felt the shudder of want through you. you planted your hands on his thighs so you wouldn't be tempted to touch yourself. you felt the thrill of sexual pleasure through you as you continued to move your head up and down on his cock.
"trained you just as i like." he chuckled as he felt the surge of pleasure in his body. it wasn't every day he got oral from such a pretty girl. you always did him so proud, always apologetic when he didn't win. it was cute. but he still wanted more.
"come here, prinzessin." he pulled you away from his cock and up onto his lap. his cock fit into you easily and he thoroughly just rutted against you. the roughness of his jeans rubbed against your naked body, you felt over sensitive as you started to ride him.
your voice caught in your throat as you moved against him.
he admired you on top of him. his hands on your bare ass. he grabbed at you as he met your pace. wasn't the easiest to have sex fully clothed, but it was too late for that now. right now nico was driven by the need to fuck your sweet little cunt. to make you squirm and moan until he finished. get all that aggression out. his little mechanic was also good at making him feel good. where he couldn't get trophies, he could bully your sweet cunt until you were a cute little moaning mess. it was all his, you were all his.
he kissed at your neck, leaving more hickies in his wake. his grip on you tightened as he moved you up and down on his cock. your core yearned for him. you felt the flush of pleasure through your body as he quickly fucked you. no one else could ever fuck you like him.
it didn't help that his cock was heavy and thick, that it stretched you in ways that made you see stars. you loved his rough actions, you loved when it hurt. and most of all you adored when you felt streaks of hot pleasure through to your core.
you look good like this." he said as he bounced you on his cock. he could tell that you were losing momentum. that the pleasure was becoming too much. he pulled you in by your shoulders for a heated kiss as he continued to fuck you.
"my little mechanic." he said when he pulled away and slapped you on the ass. your back arched and you clung to his shoulders tighter. he watched you reach your climax and your noises getting painfully loud.
you tensed up around him and arched your back. you felt the leap in your chest as orgasm wracked through you. he pulled you in for another searing kiss and you worked your self through your climax. you were a determined little thing.
he continued to thrust up into you, fuck the anger out of you. you made sweet noises as reached his own climax. he came inside of you, made sure every drop was inside of you. keep a little reminder of him in you when you worked on his car. that you'd know for next time.
after both of your climaxes. you ended up face first on the bed with your ass slightly up. your heard the shuffle of clothes and eventually you were pressed further into the bed by nico's large body. his cock sticky and hard once more. he rubbed against your back and there was not getting out from under him.
"oh, prinzessin. we're not done. we have a whole night of you correcting your wrongs." <3
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marru7 · 1 day ago
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DC prompt
OK, I had a random idea for AU about Gotham rogues and criminals liking and admiring 3rd Robin. And like, doing it a lot. They remember that boy was the only one who was stopping Batman when he lost control of himself in grief and the only one who gave first aid to severely injured by Batman criminals at the times. They know he became Red Robin and they are easier on him than on other vigilantes, showing him respect and/or gratitude. They actually think he's the only person or one of few who are able to stop Batman from becoming too dark and cruel because of what they witnessed back then. Batfamily discovers it different ways and Tim is the only one who doesn't have a clue about it.
Of course most of criminals and rogues aren't really obvious, they're still who they are after all. Also none of batfam really was with Bruce at his lowest except of Tim and Alfred so they don't know how really bad it was. That's why they don't know and don't have a reason to notice "special treatment" to Tim.
First time when it began to come out was in Red Hood's gang. Some of old members had their nostalgic moment which Jason overheard. Criminals don't really talk about "dark" Batman times, due to bad memories, so Jason heard about it first time. He joins the talk and listens some stories. He decides to keep new information to himself, realizing no one from "bat kids" knows about it. Also Jason becomes softer towards Bruce and Tim, knowing how actually Bruce grieved about him.
Second person who found out is Cass. Criminals' body language tells her everything when she teams up with RR.
Steph and Duke found out it, going through old reports at Bat computer.
Dick and Damian found out in patrol. Probably at the times when Bruce was lost in the time stream and Dick took Batman's mantle. Something pissed Damian off, he became a bit too cruel and Dick had to calm him down. One of criminals compared new Robin with "dark" Batman, finding irony how their roles changed.
Barbara discovered it when James was telling her about an interaction between a rogue and RR. She noticed slight changes in the rogues behavior and connected the dots. (James loves telling Barbara stories from his job, but avoids all the cruelty, so Barbara has never heard about grieving Batman from him.)
Once Tim isn't around but the rest of batfam is together, Steph raises the question if others know about criminals' "special treatment" towards Tim. Everyone confesses how they found out about it and they realize that the only one who doesn't know is Tim himself. They unanimously decide not to tell him, wary of his potential to become new criminal authority.
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Lol, I hope it makes some sense. English isn't my 1st language so if you noticed something weird in text, please tell me, I'd love to improve.
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zeestie · 3 days ago
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dearest reader of this diary entry,
I am done suffering in my illusions, I have figured out what living presently actually means, killed my ego, understood the true meaning of manifesting, & stopped worrying about others.
let me explain...
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PHASE I: TRIGGER
a while ago I went through something that triggered me A LOT. I don't remember exactly what it was, that's just how insignificant 3d circumstances are but back then I am sure it meant a lot as I was so triggered, angry and frustrated. then I decided to meditate, so I opened a 369 hz pure tone and I just lied down, relaxed, and focused on.. nothing.
that experience has been so simple, yet so profound. I don't feel like the same person before that. when I woke up, the reality I was in didn't feel the same either. everything moved different and felt different. and I was no exception.
I have always prided myself on being an optimist, and yeah I have always been one; however, I have only been the hopeful optimist.
whearas before my optimism has been born out of hope for better, now my optimism is not out of a need but comes from pure love and acceptance for the now cos ik for a fact that I have myself, god, and everything I would ever need to be happy.
I really feel no need to try any more, I just go for what I want, that's it. and that's why I have been very connected to my creative endeavours these past few days. whether being through being active here and on YT or through drawing and writing in my free time, I love creating and I am so glad I realised that instead of indulgence in the material world.
PHASE II: KNOWLEDGE
ever since that incident, I feel like I have started to understand what life is truly about. life is not about desiring and chasing after a goal, it's not about trying so hard, it is not about waiting for better, it is about living it now. becoming okay with what's happening now, not forcing a certain outcome but letting life take its course.
it might sound weird to say that as an loa girlie, but srsly, this is what manifesting is really about. it is about knowing, not desiring. it is about rising above the need for your desires to materialise. ik for a fact that I manifested the perfect life for myself so why would I desire more? doesn't make sense at all.
at first, I approached manifesting from a place of trying and systemised it the way I did with every goal I had in life, "affirm X times a day," "visualise every night," "do X rampages a week." I was too dependent on techniques, but now I understand that techniques are not here to help you manifest, cos it is all done anyway. techniques are here to remind you of the fact that you truly manifested it. it is here to calm you down and remind you of your power.
now, I only use techniques when it feels right, I am not forcing them esp. when my thoughts and feelings are already aligned to what I want. if I am already living as the version of me that has it, why would I do more? I don't need to do more, I just am.
and ofc now that I have changed, I have stopped being so attached to wtv idea I had of me or what other people have of me. I can be whomever I want & me separating myself from my ego helped me really see how I was stuck in narratives that didn't serve me and kept me stuck.
PHASE III: CHANGE
two weeks ago I created a some sort of character sheet of dream me, the next day I became her. I could have been like, "this is not gonna happen overnight" but why? the reason it can't happen is because i was against it & the only reason I would be against it was cos I am too attached to an idea of who I am. but thankfully, I am not any more.
I embrace the qualities I already liked about myself and as for what I didn't like about myself? I don't reject it, I am just simply not it any more. I don't need to force it, I just select the identity I like and that's it. before, my ego would not let me, cos selecting the dream me means forgiving those who I didn't seem deserve forgiveness or leave some of my "very important" past behind.
it also meant that I can't use my past or who I was as an excuse for how I acted, but when I used to always excuse myself, it somehow felt v punishing, like I have been punishing myself by staying this unfavorable version of me because I am not ready to let go of my history. it felt like I didn't trust me enough to change once and for all.
to become a blank slate was terrifying to my ego. but I am not my ego. I and you both know that. my ego can be scared and I will reassure her a million times over if that's what it takes, but I am not folding. just like a parent who knows what's best for their child. even if the child screams in retaliation, the adult comforts them but doesn't bend the rules cos they know what's best for their child.
PHASE IV: TRUTH
I have been neglecting and neglected by myself every time I chose my ego's or other people's comfort. but I am not doing that again any more.
we all understand that others are just mirrors of what we think of them so that's why I couldn't care less about how I come across any more. others can judge but I have decided that none will. others will see me change over and over and will welcome any change I take on, every single time, I have decided that.
since these realisations, life felt sm simpler to live, the pressure of being a certain person in front of others has subsided. the need to stay my "consistent" (more so predictable) self is non-existent. and the need for life to go a certain way has also faded. a lot of beautiful things came about after this change and I am so glad to live every day with the ability to choose my own joy and peace, not waiting for someone or something to make me happy.
rn I am grateful to have realised all of that, to have transcended this physical plane and to have chosen to live as a soul who chose to live this human life. souls full of love and light, that is our true essence.
✦°·
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magicomens · 1 day ago
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Hello, how are you :)?
Mh, I just wanted to let you know that I loved your comic, and that it gave me a sense of inner peace and tranquility that I haven’t felt in a while.
Do you know when your life is constantly stressful, and then your days go bad on top of it all, but strangely, you make some time for yourself to sit alone for a moment on whenever soft surface you find, and exhale a long sigh? I released a sigh each time I read your comic, and when I finished reading it, I had a huge smile on my face. To give some context, there has to be something really impactful for me to change the expressions on my face, and when I read the finale a second time, I still had my smile on. It calmed me down, and Merthur being lesbians, cottage girls and marrying each other was the sweetest, yet more fitting finale you could have given them, after everything they have endured, alongside Aziracrow being the supporting couple on the side, full of sweetness too. I liked this comic from start to end, and I still remember being gobsmacked that someone literally had had my idea of Arthur coming back in a new and unexplored way, and also adding another tv show that I really loved with it, mixing everything together to make an interesting comic out of it. I’ll forever be grateful that people like you exist and do this purely out of love, and because you like what you do. I hope my message will be enough to let you know that what you do is incredible.
It’s people like you who keep fandoms alive, and I’m so happy for it.
Thank you for writing an idea, for writing entertaining and deep dialogues and for drawing my dream of a silly and forever heroic Arthur coming back in this day and age, with his faithful servant and friend and the powerful warlock Merlin by his side, helping him and loving him as much as he had loved him when he first got to know him (and for fixing the tremendous finale they gave us, for which I still mourn😔 *shakes fist towards the sky* Damn you, BBC!).
A beautiful and majestic dream became reality.
I hope you had a great time working on this comic, and that you’ll be able to do more projects in the future, enjoy them as much as you enjoyed this one, and as much as I enjoyed it🤍!
I truly admired it.
Have a great day and a fulfilling life :)!
P.S.
You inspired me into drawing my ideas☺️. One day, I hope I’ll be able to write my own comic.
So thank you so much again!
Oh now you're just trying to make me cry :'D and saying I inspired you was the nail to the coffin!
I'm really glad you found some happiness while reading it, this is what makes the work worth it <3
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kaythefloppa · 2 days ago
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Wild Kratts - Salmander Streaming - Thoughts
Spoilers!!
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I've a good feeling that this isn't actually a clip from a movie, but just something the animators whipped up. The fact that the animals running are in blue and green gives me the impression.
But also, the characters being able to stream movies makes me feel old.
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If I had a nickel for every time a red squirrel fucked up high tech structure in this show, I'd have 2 nickels.
Also, how efficient are the tellurium crystals (which we saw earlier in the season premiere) are, if shit like THIS can render the turtle ship's power efficient??
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Roll credits!
Also, this is the first of MANY moments in the episode that made me laugh unironically.
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Martin, that is a fucking exoskeleton. I don't think I have to explain why that is incredibly gross (although it does make for an efficient boat).
Also, random fact: The largest crayfish on the planet has weighed up to 11 pounds. That's huge!
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This is another thing about the episode that regularly comes up (and that many people have noticed). The animation is suprisingly fluid. I mean, not surprisingly, there were new riggers on board for the show, which likely explains why it took nearly 2 years for the new season to drop, but still. Screenshots alone do not do several scenes or shots (this included) justice when talking about how eye-catching or interesting the animation is.
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I did not know that some salamander species were cannibalistic! This show always manages to teach me new things every day, even at the age of 18.
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Am I the only one who is the tiniest bit miffed when they call it "the human fish" and not "the olm." I get that it's a nickname like "Wolf Hawks" but, it's not the only name. 😭😭
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I feel like this is yet another moment where I should needlessly harp into the "lore" of Wild Kratts. Because she describes the suit as "universal" and as we see in the episode, the Salamander Power Suit can be reactivated based on species. So why didn't she do this with the Spider, or Wolf Suit. I'm 100% looking too much into this, but just saying.
Also, I really hope that a Universal Salamander Power Suit implies that we'll be getting an Axolotl episode and a Power Suit. I was kinda hoping we'd see some of them in this episode, but the potential is there!
There is DEFINITELY no way I could've done this joke justice using screenshots. You need to see it in video form to see my point. Because the joke was predictable in every sense of the word. I knew what the punchline was. I knew when the punchline was gonna hit. But because the animation was so fluid throughout the frames, and because of how detailed the shading and lighting were and how overtly obvious the punchline was because of the visuals, it still made me laugh my ass off. I legitimately had to look up if James Baxter (yes THAT James Baxter) worked on this episode because it reminded me of a lot of scenes he did for Steven Universe and Owl House. Was surprised to know that he wasn't, but regardless, whoever animated these episodes, whether veterans or newcomers, deserves their fucking raise.
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I know that he's referring to the salamander, and yes, the joke has been made before, but like, if someone told you that there's an episode of Wild Kratts where they [by technicality] said the word "hell" *checks notes* twenty-four times in one episode, would you believe them? Yeah that's what I thought.
Also, indeed hellbenders are the largest salamander in North America, the third largest in the world. Adult healthy hellbenders have very few predators and that's because of how gigantic they are.
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I used up my one-video free-card on a previous joke, but once again, it's so silly, you know what the joke/punchline is, yet it's presented in such a way that is still really humorous, either because of how it doesn't bring too much awareness to the fact that it's a joke, embraces said fact of it being a joke, or both. Complete with straight-up fucking Looney Tunes style anticts, it's just really fun.
Also, another thing I find funny is that the hellbender ate the crayfish exoskeleton. Like, would that even be tasty?
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Spoilers, but Chris does NOT Activate Tiger Salamander Powers. Yes, I am also miffed.
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They're so besties.
Ok but like I'm sensing a pattern where Martin activates a Creature Power Suit with Aviva whenever he's not activating it alone or with Chris. Which at first I didn't think much of, but then I realized. Blue is a component color to make up purple. So this occasional running theme/pattern could be a reference to how similar they are, and how both rely on each other in some fundamental way in their adventures, much like how the colors blue and purple are interconnected in a way. Am I looking too much into this as well? Yeah, but I actually enjoy it!
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Ok not gonna lie, I actually liked the fourth-wall break. Mainly because they could've easily fucked it up badly by having it drag on for too long, or making it too meta, but quick cuts and gags like this make it all the more worthwhile. And unlike the Camel Chris gag in the camel episode, it sticks around once and doesn't wear out its welcome.
Also, the Salamander Suits were activated by touching a Hellbender, which we've established, is bigger than every other salamander shown in the episode.... so... why the fuck are they that tiny?? They should at least be way bigger than the rocks they're standing on.
Also, the Salamander Suits genuinely look like Dinosaur Suits. At least... from this angle.
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-... because from THIS angle they look so. FUCKING. CUTE. I so badly want to hug them like plushies (now I'm even more disappointed that Chris wasn't in one of these)
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How the fuck was this guy able to stuff a huge-ass butternut underneath his vest and shirt.
Also, Chris, you do realize that keeping squirrels from eating the nut is a good way to make them endangered as well? Bro is petty 😭
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I think this is the first time we've seen the Tortuga miniaturized by someone on the actual crew, not a villain or an accident.
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As someone who didn't know or care that much for salamanders (at least in comparison to frogs and toads), this episode enlightened me a lot. I actually hope I do see a hellbender sometime in my life
CONCLUSION:
PROS:
The humor. Like, every single joke in this episode either got me to crack a grin, or laugh out loud
The animation. Once again, the animators have got their rent due. So many memorable facial expressions and cool color designs that just make it nice to look at.
The salamander species themselves.
CONS:
Chris definitely should've activated the Tiger Salamander Suit. Bro was robbed
No mention of Axolotls? The most well-known salamander in the world? For shame.
Final Ranking: 8/10. A nice slice of life mini-adventure with no huge or real stakes, but overall a pretty fun romp. Before this episode came out, there were a lot of positive reviews of this episode on IMDB and Rotten Tomatoes, and while I generally take those with heaping grains of salt (because opinions are opinions at the end of the day), I definitely agree that this episode is fun. The very epitome of "camp."
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suusoh · 2 days ago
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(pwp or something idk. just got horny in the tags of my last post about eddie not looking anywhere else but at his wife and only his wife while doing his husbandly duties.)
cw: female reader, sex, eddie's orbs, overuse of the word staring because I want you to start feeling annoyed and maim this man, slight yandere (maybe if you squint?) cheesy and unfunny frank valli reference at the end.
———
he's staring at you again.
Eyes fogged with a love sick haze in them at the absolute sight of you, his wife, all warm, soft, and pliant under him. You try to close your eyes from time to time, but even when you open them again— it just comes back to the first thing you see which is this man on top of you, mouth switching between grinning and gasping, and eyes wide open.
"...Eddie?"
He hums tenderly. "What is it, dear?"
"I-I.. can you just-"
It's so hard to talk when his hips don't stop moving despite his concern. The weight and absolute mass of him on top of you and grounding you into the bed with each thrust makes it all the more harder to think straight.
Thoughts on how to sound out your request begin to blur and buzz out with him fucking into you like this. In and out, in and out, inside of you. over and over again as he buries himself deep within your cunt. your pubic bone practically connecting with his, and sending sparks of heat inside your belly with each time he ruts himself into you.
"Just what? What does my darling wife want?" He starts searching your face for any indication or answer to complete it for you what you want him to do now. Still looking at you intensely.
Looking. He keeps looking. Which is, sort of the thing you wanted to point out in the first place.
"You're... o-oh- oh-"
"I...?" he acts as if he's not quite catching on. Pondering for a second with the sounds of your moans and wanton sighs, and the creaking of the worn out bed acting as background noise to aid his thinking.
"Oh! I'm doing a swell job is that it? Is that what you're trying to say, dearest?" he lets out a content loving sigh, and your breathe stutters as he picks up his pace. "You and your words never fail to make me blush, my love."
Another particularly good thrust has you arching your back, of which he's making sure his eyes connect with yours once more while you writhe and wiggle underneath. But your wriggling quickly eases from bodily pleasure, to slowly morphing into a sense of discomfort now.
Because he's staring at you.
Again.
Which should be good isn't it? Eye contact during sex is a sign after all of a good partner paying attention to your needs. And with someone like Eddie, him paying attention to your needs is the tiniest sliver of hope you cling onto to make sure his reason for keeping you alive is a bit more... cemented, substantial even. Gives you a little bit more reason (or delusion) to believe he'd be inclined to make this relationship, make you, last longer.
(Compared to the alternative route of him using your body for his own sick dispositions, and casually stringing you all up when he's done.)
Though you're sure that this is not the type of bedroom eye contact many normally wish for.
"Y-you... you're.." you try to murmur out again.
Not that you should talk about having anything normal with this man. You might as well find the solution to world hunger long before you find anything even remotely "normal" in this place.
It's not that you're expecting him to do things normally, but can't he... can't he just... do something else maybe?
Look anywhere but you for just a split second, maybe bury himself into your neck, or close his own eyes to focus on the feeling of his cock getting squeezed, or look at any other part of your body that could possibly entrance him; mouth, chest, stomach... hell, you could even hope that he tries to glance down at your clit? Maybe marvel at the sight of where the two of you connect, since that's all his fucked up baby fever mind thinks about anyways?
You'll take anything really, just one small thing to act as a reminder that you guys are indeed having... sex— and not engaging in some sort of impromptu staring contest out of nowhere.
Because his eyes are doing absolutely nothing but looking into your own and as they continue staring at you.
and staring at you...
and staring...
and staring...
and staring...
Jesus fucking christ you don't think he's even blinked in the past few seconds anymore.
You let out a mix of a whine and a groan, opting to shut your eyelids close and try to shield your face away from his unmoving eyeballs by trying to wiggle your hands free out of his grasp (him and his damn insistence to hold hands while making love as he calls it.).
"What is it my love? Must I pay you a penny for your thoughts perhaps?"
"You keep staring... "
You try to wiggle free again, inadvertently adding onto the delightful friction between your parts and his— to which he gets a small shiver of his own at the roll of your hips. A light laugh escapes him at your captivating and somewhat fruitless display. He finally gives reprieve to your brain's rising fear of being uncannily perceived at, and blinks.
"Ohhh, my darling."
He lets go of one of your hands so that he can cradle your face, tilting it so he can capture your mouth into a kiss. humming into your mouth, but the humming isn't just the usual sighs of pleasure, as you can pick up the movement of him saying some words.
He pulls apart from his half kissing-half speaking into your mouth, as he slowly begins to playfully laugh again.
"You can't blame a man for looking at his wife when she's like this; all breathless and beautiful, now can you? I sure can't!"
Said wife that he just knows for certain was sent down by god all-mighty himself into the 7th circle of hell named "mount massive asylums".
When Eddie sees you, he can't help but imagine your rotting carcass somewhere else. An alternate place where those filthy bastards could have gotten their hands on you, torn you limb from limb (if they didn't have the patience to pull your teeth and your eyes out first), then have their way with using your dead body as a urinal afterwards.
You must have been scared to not have your dear husband around to protect you from all the nasty violence around the asylum, weren't you darling?
No, no. No meed to fret now and get your panties in a twist! None of that here. Not when your dear ol' Eddie is here now.
You are very much alive and perfect, preserved by your own sheer dumb luck or maybe by fate itself to be kept alive long enough for him. Just him.
And under his care, your body is experiencing the furthest thing from excruciating physical pain right now, isn't it darling? Feels good, yes? To have your husband make love to you like the passionate man he is. Lest he's supposed to take in the sight of you rolling your eyes back and your legs hooking around his waist, pulling him in for more as something otherwise?
Oh goodness him... It's almost too good to be true.
And he really can't take his eyes off of you.
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weirdsht · 10 hours ago
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Disillusioned 26 . I Blinked and Suddenly..?
a/n: Happy last chapter! I hope you enjoyed reading this series! Also, it's my first time writing something like this wish me luck! I might upload some side stories though, there's some discarded chapters I didn't include that I think would be fun to use as side chapters.
tags: feelings have finally progressed, a bit chaotic
English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors
Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission
Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome
Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read pinned)
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3 months. That’s how long Cale Henituse had been gone to complete the Sealed God’s test. Time flew faster on Earth 2 but it was still a long time.
Too long.
He enjoyed his experience there. Enjoyed rewriting fate and healing his despair. He knows it will not rewrite his past nor make him forget. Nonetheless, he was happy.
But his even happier to be back to his home. To his family. 
That’s why he allowed himself to be emotional. To bask in the moment while accepting his family's greeting. Even the deadly barrier did little to ruin his mood.
Perhaps he had been too emotional. Maybe he let his emotions get the best of him.
As he stepped out of the grass bed, that’s devoid of barriers, he finally saw one of the people he had been looking for the most.
_____.
3 months. They have been apart for 3 months. Again, it was faster on Cale’s end but it was still too long of a time.
He feels his heart beat faster in his chest. And no it’s not because of the Vitality of the Heart.
Surge of emotions passed him as he stared at their face. They had been waiting at the back, letting the kids and everyone else have their moment first. A smile graced their faces as they watched the scene unfold before them.
“Welcome home. I missed you.”
_____ smiled warmly at him, and for a moment he thought his brains malfunctioned a little.
“Do you know just how much my heart longed for you while I was away?”
‘I’m home. I missed you all too.’
Okay, maybe it wasn’t just a little.
“Cale..? Excuse… me..?”
Fuck it all.
How could he do something so stupid as getting his thoughts and speech mixed up?
For a moment Cale wanted to return to Earth 2.
It didn’t help that in the corner of his eyes he could see Rosalyn holding a communication device with Alberu on the other side of the line. The mage probably called him after sensing that something interesting was going to happen.
Cale didn’t notice the video recording orb on Raon’s hand. If he did he might’ve coughed out blood on the spot.
“Cale..? Are you okay?”
_____ walked towards the silent Cale. They touched his forehead to see if he was sick or something. A blush still coating their face from Cale’s unexpected confession.
“...I’m fine. But for now, let’s talk.”
The redhead drags the healer to one of the empty rooms in the black castle. Behind them, he could hear Beacrox saying he’d start cooking dishes for Choi Han and him. 
_____ sat on a couch inside the room, waiting for Cale to speak. Their mind was too chaotic from his words to start the conversation.
“I… I mean…I’m-”
Cale stammers. It’s so uncharacteristic of him. He never stammers. But he truly doesn’t know what to say. Mind too chaotic to let proper words out.
“Take your time. It’s okay, just say whatever you want to say.”
_____ encourages him while squeezing his hand. It does more bad than good, their bodily warmth making his brain go into even more overdrive. It kind of feels similar to when he overuses Record.
“You probably could tell already from what I said earlier. I have feelings for you. I adore you.”
He decided to not make any excuses. The cat was already out of the bag, might as well make it roam around the house.
“Oh… so you do…”
Cale’s heart drops at the response. It sounds as if the healer was deep in thought.
But it’s fine, they don’t need to return his feelings. As long as they’d still be friends Cale is satisfied enough with that.
As long as their happy Cale will be happy.
“This is a bit comedic…”
_____ started speaking and Cale pushed away his thoughts to listen.
“Back at the Endable Kingdom, I told myself I would let go of my feelings for you. Especially when you were inside that orb. I told myself that I would be satisfied with our current standing.”
Oh
Oh
They felt the same way.
_____ actually feels the same way!
“I didn't expect our feelings to be mutual.”
The healer offered a wobbly smile. One that’s full of emotions.
“I have feelings for you too. And I’ve had them for a while now.”
Everything at once came crashing down on Cale. The confession being the trigger of it all. He felt a myriad of emotions to the point he wasn’t sure what he was feeling anymore.
In spite of everything he had the mind the pull them into a hug. A hug where he conveyed all the feelings he couldn’t say out loud. All the love and longing he has felt. All the hesitation and doubt.
He showed it through that hug.
The healer reciprocated it too. Showing all of their unfiltered emotions in the embrace. From their regrets to the abundance of affection they have for Cale. _____ left nothing out.
“Can I kiss you?”
If Cale is allowing his emotions to control the situation, he might as well go all out.
He opened his eyes that he didn’t notice he closed to see _____ nodding in approval.
With nothing else to hold him back, Cale leaned in until their lips touched. His eyes closing once they do.
If their hug felt as though a door opened to a field of emotions then this kiss felt like a whole new world.
Their movements are sweet, gentle. As if the other was glass that would break if they moved the wrong way. As if they were a feather that would fly away if the wind blew too hard.
Care and love were poured into the kiss. In fact, it was the only thing they could feel. The longing they felt these past months. Inhibition is now being let go after so long— concern for the other’s well-being is showing itself instead.
Such things were being conveyed in a single kiss.
And Cale doesn’t want it to end.
But alas, they are merely humans who need air to live. They also have a lot of things to get done.
“Don’t frown like that silly. We can continue later. For now, we have a lot of business to take care of.”
_____ laughed at Cale before giving him one last peck on the cheek before opening the door.
Thump!
Crash!
Several people toppled over as the door opened. There was even a communication and a video recording device in the mix.
“AHAHAHAHA! Were you guys trying to listen in? Even the rising sun of our kingdom is trying to gossip.”
Cale felt his mild irritation be washed away at his lover’s laugh.
Lover…
That sounds good.
It sounds really good.
“Is this really something that would pique your interest? Enough to eavesdrop like that?”
“But it took you long enough human!”
Raon’s chubby paw pointed at him accusingly. As if he was an avid watcher of a romance telenovela and the main couple finally got together.
Cale raised his hands at the toddler’s action. He didn’t know why he was surrendering but it felt appropriate at the moment.
“Young master, the food has been prepared.”
Ron smiled benignly as if he wasn’t one of the people eavesdropping. To his credit, he was doing it stealthily. 
But still.
“Go eat. As they said you and Choi Han looked a bit skinnier than before. You must eat your fill.”
_____ dragged his hand out of the room. Ignoring the people, and devices, flat on the ground.
Everything was chaotic. From the confession to the situation now. All of it happened suddenly, a bunch of spur-of-the-moment scenarios clustered in one.
However.
Cale and _____ wouldn’t change anything even if given the chance.
For this was their family. A mismatched group of people that somehow came together. And they wouldn’t trade it for anything else in the world.
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