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headdinthewall · 20 days ago

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BEING MEAN ── g.clarke ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

summary : george wants to film a ‘who knows me best’ video with you and emily, but you both secretly prank him a/n : had this idea in my mind for a while now, emily seems like the sweetest woman ever content : established relationship ,, insults as a joke ,, short imagine today as the next post will be an INSIDE post

─────── EMILY WAS OVER at the apartment you shared with George, as you three were going to film a video for his channel. He wanted to do the ‘Who Knows Me Best Challenge’ between his girlfriend and his sister, and you both agreed.

You loved Emily and she loved you. She was so sweet and welcoming to you and never made you feel awkward or uncomfortable, if anything she did it to him by spilling his embarrassing childhood stories that made you cackle and him burn red.

Just before you started filming, you spoke to her quietly as George set the camera up, making a proposition, “Do you want to prank George?”

“Now? Or while we film?” Emily asked, immediately in on it.

“While we film. I’ve seen this thing where girls get their boyfriend’s sister to make little insults and say mean things to her to see if he says anything.”

She gaped at you, “Wait, but I don’t want to hurt your feelings.” She put a hand on your arm.

“No, no, no, don’t worry, I’m literally telling you it’s okay to do.” You laughed softly.

“Are you sure?” Emily double checked.

“Yeah, of course. I just want to see his reaction.”

“He’s gonna be so awkward about it.” She giggled.

George called out for you to come into the office, so you did. He had the camera set up and three chairs in front of it, his phone was on his lap with the questions written on his notes app.

You each sat on either side of him as he did his intro, introducing you two (even though the viewers most likely already knew who you were) and explaining the video idea.

“George these chairs are really uncomfortable.” You muttered, shuffling around to try and get comfortable.

“I think it’s just you.” Emily hummed.

“My chair’s okay.” George frowned, looking at you, “Do you want to swap?”

“Nah, it’s fine.” You shook it off.

“Reader, have you put on weight?” She asked.

“Emily!” George exclaimed, jaw dropped in shock.

“I’m just saying! She might be weighing the chair down.”

“That’s a horrible thing to say!” He chuckled awkwardly.

“It’s okay, she’s just asking, George. I don’t think I’ve put weight on.” You played along.

“Oh.” She hummed.

“Right, first question; who was my first kiss?” George asked, looking between you two to see who would answer first.

“Well it wasn’t me.” You said with a sarcastic, sad tone.

“Does he even kiss you now?” Emily chipped, looking at you directly. “It was in year eight, and the girl was … what was her name? Jessica something, I dunno.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” George nodded, rubbing his moustache, subtly glancing at you. “What do I want my first dance song to be at my future wedding?”

“You said you wanted it to be … Oh, shit I forgot! Oh makes me look like a really bad girlfriend, I do remember, I promise, it’s on the top of my tongue.” You flapped your hands about, trying to wrangle your memories together to remember the conversation you’d had with him.

“That is really bad. You are a bit of a bad girlfriend.” Emily pursed her lips and George’s smile dropped slightly.

“Em.” He said in a slightly scolding way, “Don’t say that.”

“I said ‘a bit’ not that she is a bad girlfriend!” She tried to defend herself.

“It’s fine, George, I remember. You said you wanted Arthur to perform at the wedding and you would choose whatever song when the time came.” You dismissed her comment, knowing it was all apart of the prank.

“Yeah, but I also said it’s up to you, too.” He hummed, patting your knee, “50/50.”

“Seems like 75/25.” Emily mumbled under her breath and you could tell George heard it but didn’t want to make it awkward.

The video continued, and Emily’s snarky comments only became more prominent and noticeable, and George was getting slightly annoyed, occasionally scolding her or keeping a hand on the back of your chair as a silent sign of comfort.

“Who do we think has won?” He asked, glancing between you two.

“Me, obviously. I’ve literally known you your whole life, there’s no way that … she, is knowing you more than I am.” Emily gestured to you, refusing to use your actual name.

“True, you have known me since the day I was born, but there’s things she knew about me that you didn’t.” George defended you, fingers circling your skin on your back. “Why did you say ‘she’ like that, though?”

“I know I’ve won, Geo.” Emily insisted, “She’s just not … y’know? She didn’t know stuff about what you wanted in your own wedding, that’s weird. Like, I remember everything Josh wants.”

His head whipped back and forth between you two, an awkward smile on his face, “Am I missing something?”

“In your relationship, yeah.” She shrugged, “Clearly you can do better.”

You toyed with the pandora charms spread evenly across your bracelet, playing the whole nervous, ‘I’m being insulted’ girlfriend role.

“Emily, that’s a horrible thing to say.” George frowned, “You were talking about how much you liked reader earlier and you’ve been insulting her throughout the whole thing.”

“Just voicing my own opinion.” Emily said simply.

“No, you’re being horrible.” He shook his head, looking over at you and putting his hand on your thigh, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, it’s not like we planned it or anything.” You mumbled, and Emily let out a crack of a laugh.

“What?” His eyebrows furrowed, looking between you, “I’m so confused.”

“She was being mean on purpose. It was a prank!” You laughed, high-fiving her over his head and he blinked at you.

“Oh my God!” He coughed, running a hand through his hair as the tension relieved from his body, “I thought something had happened between you two!”

Emily stood up, coming over to you and hugging you, “I’m so sorry! I feel so bad!”

“You guys stressed me out so bad, never do that again!” George said sternly.

“I promise you don’t look like you’ve put on weight, and I don’t think you’re a bad girlfriend!” She promised.

Later on, while George was editing the video, he continuously checked with you over certain clips to see if you were okay with it staying in because he was concerned that your feelings were genuinely hurt.

George Clarkey posted a youtube video !

‘Who knows me best? Girlfriend vs Sister (They pranked me😐)’

comments:

↳ user1 THE DISCLAIMER AT THE BEGINNING ‘please don’t go harassing my sister online, reader consented to the prank, they did it against me’

↳ user2 it’s so funny knowing these two are the sweetest girls irl and one of them just bullies the other all to prank george. love them as a duo x

George Clarkey genuinely was panicking while filming, wouldn’t call it funny

↳ user3 george’s head constantly going between them because he’s concerned

↳ user4 someone check on george, the hair loss from stress is getting to him

↳ user5 ‘have you put on weight’ BRUTAL OMG

George Clarkey hope you’re not agreeing with Emily on this one, reader is perfectly healthy👍🏼

↳ ArthurTV poor reader omg😭

↳ youryoutubechannel i just be catching strays😕

#ukyt #george clarke #george clarkey #ukyt fanfic #george clarke fanfic #george clarke fics #george clarkey x reader

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deliciousangelfestival · 5 months ago

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Change of Heart - 1 | Bucky

Character: Bucky x Female! Reader

Theme: Angst, tragedy, romance.

Summary: The interviewer asked her a provocative question:

“If you were offered a million dollars, would you leave your partner?”

Without hesitation, she replied with a smirk, “Give me one dollar, and I’ll leave him this second.”

True to her word, she walked away, leaving the man stunned and searching for answers. Now, he’s desperately trying to find her, grappling with the haunting question—why would she leave him so easily?

And is there more to her departure than a single dollar could ever explain?

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5.

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

By the way, I publish my book Arrogant Ex-Husband and Dad, I Can't Let You Go by Alina C. Bing on Kindle.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Time changes everything. Interviews used to take place indoors, in studios, or in booked hotel rooms. The questions were serious—focused on economics, politics, or other weighty topics. Back then, only experts or public figures were deemed worthy of being interviewed.

But now, thanks to social media, interviews can happen anywhere. They’re no longer the domain of reporters or TV stations. Instead, anyone with a phone, a camera, and a microphone can conduct an impromptu interview in random places.

These spontaneous interviews often gain far more attention than their polished, scripted counterparts on TV. On the streets, people are asked silly, lighthearted questions, and their candid, often hilarious answers resonate more with viewers. They feel authentic and relatable, unlike the carefully curated responses of experts.

Some people never imagine their offhand comments will make them go viral. Take the girl who became famous overnight for her absurd response to a random question—she jokingly told someone to spit. It was ridiculous, but human nature is unpredictable. The absurdity drew millions of viewers, and just like that, she became an internet sensation.

Today, another viral moment is taking over the internet. The current trend? A simple, loaded question:

“If you were offered 1 million dollars, would you leave your partner?”

Many people, interviewed alongside their partners, responded with sweet or heartfelt answers. But one woman gave a response that stopped everyone in their tracks:

“Give me 1 dollar. I’ll leave him this second.”

And the interviewer handed her the one dollar.

Her comment sparked chaos online. Most people laughed, seeing it as a joke and sharing it for its sheer absurdity:

“LMAO, this girl is my spirit animal!”

“She’s not wrong, though. 😂 Relationships are overrated!”

“The audacity! 😂😂😂”

However, not everyone found it funny:

“This is what’s wrong with society—no loyalty anymore.”

“Imagine being her partner and seeing this. Yikes.”

“If this is how people think these days, I’ll stay single forever.”

But there was one man who didn’t find it amusing at all.

He replayed the video, his expression unreadable, though the tension in his jaw betrayed his anger. The room was silent except for the faint hum of his phone’s speaker. His piercing gaze flicked to the woman sitting across from him as the video looped again.

Bucky Barnes hadn’t paid attention to what was happening online. As the CEO of the Lena Group, a leader in car and chip manufacturing, his schedule left little time for distractions. It wasn’t until his secretary and his mother mentioned the viral uproar that he decided to investigate.

Watching the clip now, he felt a surge of disbelief. Shock. Anger. He had worked tirelessly to build his empire, and yet here she was, casually dismissing him with a joke to a stranger.

“So,” he said, his voice cold as he set the phone down on the table, “you think I’m worth one dollar?”

She didn’t flinch under his icy glare. Instead, she calmly lifted her teacup, taking a slow sip before setting it back down. Her movements were measured, deliberate, as if his words carried no weight.

Meeting his gaze, she tilted her head slightly, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “Now that I think about it,” she said, her tone casual, “70% discount sounds fair.”

His grip on the phone tightened, his knuckles turning white. “What’s the meaning of this?” he demanded, leaning forward, his voice sharper now.

Her expression didn’t waver. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m tired, Bucky. I’ve had enough.”

The room felt heavier, the unspoken words between them thickening the air.

His jaw clenched as he let out a heavy sigh. “You’ve got to be joking.”

His eyes searched your face for any hint of humor, anything to suggest you didn’t mean it. But there was none. Only calm resolve.

He looked at you—the woman he had married two years ago. The truth was, this wasn’t an ordinary marriage. It was what people called a contract marriage. But to Bucky, it was just business. Marriages forged to benefit two businesses had existed for ages, after all.

The so-called marriage contract was simply a guideline—a formal agreement to ensure both parties understood the terms, what was acceptable and what wasn’t. Many people chose contract durations of three or six years before going their separate ways. But Bucky had kept it simpler: a one-year contract, renewable if his wife agreed.

The reason he opted for this arrangement was to avoid the casualties of love. He’d seen it firsthand—his parents, who had started with love, had eventually torn each other apart, not literally, but close enough to leave scars on everyone involved. It was enough to make Bucky swear off traditional marriage altogether.

But his grandfather had other plans. “If you don’t marry, you’ll never inherit the company,” his grandfather had declared, determined to ensure his legacy stayed within the family. Having watched his son—a serial adulterer—destroy the family’s reputation, the old man had become obsessed with the idea of keeping his grandson grounded.

Bucky, however, had no interest in marriage. He had no desire for emotional entanglements or the drama that came with them. Yet his grandfather’s ultimatum left him with no choice. If he wanted to lead the company, he had to marry.

That was when he turned to a matchmaker agency, one well-known among his wealthy peers. It wasn’t cheap, but the agency had stellar testimonials, and they assured him they could find the perfect partner.

And they did.

That’s where he met you. You, too, were looking for something unconventional. You weren’t interested in traditional marriage and came from a good family background, which made introducing you to his parents remarkably easy. Despite his parents’ separation, you navigated the introductions with grace, impressing his mother and, surprisingly, his father.

The wedding happened quickly. You were the ideal partner—easygoing, understanding, and undemanding. When the first year of the contract ended, Bucky asked if you wanted to continue. You had simply smiled and said, “Yes.”

To him, that was enough.

Two years had passed since then, and he thought everything was fine. You never complained, never asked for anything more than the life you had agreed upon. He thought you were content. He thought you were okay.

But now, standing before you on the last day of the contract, he couldn’t reconcile the image he had of your quiet satisfaction with your answer in that viral video.

He stared at you, confused and hurt. “Why did you say it?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. “Why give that answer? I thought everything was fine.”

You didn’t flinch. Instead, you glanced at your watch, casually checking the time. “I’m not,” you said, your voice calm, almost detached. “At 12 a.m., our marriage contract will be over. By tomorrow morning, I won’t be here.”

His mouth opened as if to protest, but no words came out. He reached for the black tea you had placed in front of him earlier, taking a sip. It had gone lukewarm—neither hot nor cold, a temperature he despised. It mirrored the hollow, uncomfortable feeling gnawing at his chest.

Finally, he set the cup down with a dull clink. “We’ll talk tomorrow,” he said, his voice firmer now, though tinged with weariness.

You said nothing in return, merely turned and walked away.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

The next morning, when he woke up, sunlight was already streaming through the curtains. His eyes flicked to the clock on his nightstand—10 a.m. He sat up abruptly, his head spinning slightly from the sudden movement.

He rarely ever slept this late. For years, he had trained himself to wake by 5 a.m., no matter how little sleep he’d had the night before. Even on his most exhausting days, he never overslept. At most, he might sleep in until 6 or 7 a.m., but 10? Never.

Rubbing his temples, he tried to piece it together. What had made him sleep like this? He thought back to the night before, to your calm words, to the tea…

His hands froze mid-motion. The tea.

A surge of realization hit him. You drugged him.

He swung his legs out of bed, his movements sharp and full of urgency. Throwing on a robe, he stormed out of the bedroom, his voice cutting through the quiet house. “Where is she?”

The housemaid appeared, her expression hesitant and unsure. “She left, sir. Early this morning.”

His jaw tightened as he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “And she didn’t say anything? Not a word?”

The maid paused, then held out a small item. “She left this, sir.”

He grabbed the velvet box from her hand, his chest tightening as he opened it. His breath caught at the sight of your wedding ring nestled inside.

For two years, he had worn his own wedding ring daily, thinking of it as nothing more than a piece of jewelry. But now, staring at your ring, it felt heavier than it should, as though it carried the weight of your departure.

Inside the ring box, you left the same crumpled dollar bill. It sat there like a cruel punchline, mocking everything he thought both of you had built together—a final, silent reminder of just how little she thought he was worth.

He set the box down on the table, his eyes scanning the room. When they landed on the wardrobe, he froze. It was still full. You hadn’t taken a single thing.

His mind raced. Where could you have gone? How did you vanish so quickly?

He reached for his phone, dialing his security team with shaky fingers. After two rings, someone picked up.

“Where is she?” he barked, his voice tight with frustration, the tension unmistakable.

The security officer on the other end hesitated. “Mrs. told us… madam wanted to meet her.”

His brows furrowed. “My mother?”

“Yes, sir. She’s in another state.”

That meant only one thing. You had gone to the airport.

“Did she take the private jet or a commercial plane?” he demanded.

“Commercial, sir. It was a last-minute trip, and we hadn’t prepared the jet.”

Bucky’s grip on the phone tightened, his knuckles whitening. His jaw clenched as frustration surged within him. He wanted to scream, to lash out at the sheer incompetence of his team. You fucking idiot. The words pounded in his mind, but he bit them back, forcing himself to stay composed.

“Who bought the ticket?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

“It was Mrs. who purchased the ticket herself.”

Bucky exhaled sharply through his nose, his patience wearing thin. He wanted nothing more than to explode, but he kept his voice steady. “Find out where she went.” Without waiting for a response, he ended the call.

Immediately, he dialed his mother. The line connected after a single ring.

“Hello.”

“I’m glad you called,” she said briskly. “Do you know what’s going on right now?”

His grip on the phone tightened. “Did you ask her to meet you?”

“Me? No, I—”

He ended the call before she could finish. That ruled out her involvement.

His mind raced as he considered the possibilities. If you had boarded a plane, he could easily track your destination. But the other option loomed: that the airport was a decoy. You had used his mother’s name as an excuse, ensuring your movements would go undetected by his security team, who clearly hadn’t been following you as closely as they did him.

Bucky’s phone buzzed. The confirmation from his team came through, and the news made his blood boil.

“Mrs. bought a plane ticket but didn’t get on the plane,” the head of security reported.

“Did you check the surveillance cameras?” he snapped.

“Yes, sir. We’ve reviewed the footage. There’s a woman with a similar appearance to madam who rented a car at the airport.”

Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose, his frustration mounting. He sucked in a breath, exhaling slowly to keep his temper in check. So, it’s option two. You’re still in the same state.

“Great,” he muttered under his breath, pacing the room. He could feel the tension radiating through his body. “At least you didn’t go far.”

Without wasting another second, he barked into the phone, “Chase the car. Check every schedule she might have left behind, and contact her friends. I want updates—fast.”

Ending the call, he threw the phone onto his desk with a sharp clatter. Running a hand through his hair, he leaned against the desk, staring out the window as the weight of the situation pressed down on him. For someone who always had the upper hand, this was new territory. And he hated it.

Bucky sat in his office chair, staring at the empty ring box on his desk. His mind swirled with unanswered questions. Why had you suddenly left without a word? Both of you had been such a good team—practical, efficient, and untroubled by the complications that plagued most marriages. At least, that’s what he thought.

If he could, he would turn back time and relive the past few months, examining every moment you’d spent together. Had he missed something? Made a mistake? Or had something happened that he was completely unaware of? The uncertainty gnawed at him, a feeling he hadn’t experienced in years.

His phone buzzed, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“We found her. But…”

“What?!” he barked, standing abruptly.

“It’s not Mrs.,” the security team clarified hesitantly.

A chill ran down his spine. “Then who is it?”

“It’s her friend, sir.”

His stomach tightened, and for the first time in years, Bucky felt a flicker of fear. He thought he was closing in, that you were still within his reach. But now, you were out of his watch, slipping further away with every passing second.

“Secure her. I’m going to meet her,” he ordered, his voice cold and sharp.

“Yes, sir.”

"Prepare the car," Bucky ordered, his voice cold and demanding.

"But, sir, you have a meeting at 2 p.m", his assistant replied, hesitant.

Bucky shot him a sharp glare, his jaw tightening.

The assistant quicklu nodded. "I'll reschedule it, sir," he muttered avoiding Bucky's piercing gaze.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Minutes later, Bucky arrived at a quiet café where Grace was waiting under the watchful eye of his security team. The moment he saw her, he recognized her immediately—your friend, the one who had attended your wedding. Grace was the only person you had trusted with the details of this marriage contract.

Bucky approached the table, his expression unreadable, but his clenched fists betrayed the storm brewing inside him.

“Where is she?” His voice was steady, but there was an edge of desperation he couldn’t fully mask.

Grace avoided his gaze, staring down at the steaming cup of coffee in front of her.

He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. “I could raise my voice at you, but I won’t. Grace, please. Tell me where she is.”

Grace finally looked up, her expression guarded. “As far as I know, last night was the last day of your marriage. Today, she’s a free woman.”

Her words hit him harder than he expected, and for a moment, Bucky’s mask slipped. He stared at her, bewildered, the weight of everything sinking in. What had he done to make you leave? Had he overlooked something so significant? And why did Grace seem to despise him so much?

Before he could respond, his phone buzzed again. He stepped aside to take the call, his jaw tightening as he listened.

“Sir, we’ve reviewed additional footage. Mrs. used Grace’s ID to purchase another ticket. She’s already on the plane.”

Bucky’s grip on the phone tightened. His gaze snapped back to Grace, who was now watching him warily.

“Grace,” he began, his voice sharper this time. “I’m asking you again. Where is she?”

Grace shook her head, her tone calm but firm. “I don’t know.”

His frustration boiled over. He leaned forward, his palms flat on the table as he stared her down. “Don’t lie to me, Grace.”

She didn’t flinch. “I’m not lying. You don’t know anything about her.”

Her words struck a nerve, leaving him momentarily speechless. He straightened, trying to collect himself, but his mind was racing. Don’t know anything about her? He hated the implication.

“She trusted you,” he said, his voice low. “You were the only one who knew about the arrangement, the only one she confided in.”

“And that’s why I won’t betray her trust now,” Grace replied evenly.

Author Note: Do you found this interesting? Would you like it to be continued?

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes au #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #buckybarnes #angst #bucky #drama #romance

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vanteguccir · 11 months ago

Note

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMrQe3yqW/

write something like that with Chris 🙏🏻

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤVOICING MY MAKEUP; A TIKTOK * CHRIS STURNIOLO * BLURB

SUMMARY　::　where Y/N does her makeup while Chris describes it in the background

FEATURING　Chris Sturniolo x reader

WARNINGS　::　none

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error

Y/N set up her phone on the tripod, making sure it captured the perfect angle of her vanity and, consequently, her shared bedroom with Chris. Her ring light stood poised beside her vanity, casting a perfect, even light. She hit the record button and smiled at her reflection, feeling a mix of excitement and amusement.

She was about to start a makeup trend that had been making waves on TikTok; recording herself doing her makeup in mute, and then having her boyfriend, Chris, do a voice-over without any prior knowledge of makeup.

Silently, she held up her first product; a small bottle of primer. She turned it slowly, showing all sides, then squirted a small amount onto her fingertips.

Chris's voice finally filled the video.

"Alright, let's see what we have here." He started with a playful tone. "Y/N is holding some kind of magic potion. Oh wait, it’s a tiny bottle. Okay, she’s squeezing out... hand lotion? I think that's hand lotion."

With a practiced touch, she spread the primer across her face, focusing on her cheeks, forehead, and chin.

"She's rubbing the hand lotion all over her face. Why do you even need makeup, babe? You look so good already." Chris commented sincerely.

Next, she picked up her foundation. She displayed the bottle, making sure to catch the label on camera. Twisting off the cap, she pumped a few drops onto the back of her hand. Using her fingers, she dotted the foundation across her face, creating a pattern of beige dots.

"Now she's got this... uh, more lotion? Why is everything lotion?" His voice sounded high-pitched. "This one is thicker. Maybe it's... face paint lotion? I don’t know. She's dotting it all over her face. Polka dot style, very artistic."

Grabbing her foundation brush, she began blending the product into her skin with quick, even strokes, transforming her face into a smooth, even canvas.

"Okay, now she's using a big fluffy brush. It's like one of those paintbrushes but softer. She’s painting her face with the face paint lotion. Very fast, I can barely keep up."

Once her foundation was flawlessly blended, Y/N moved on to her concealer. She held up the tube, giving it a little shake before applying it in lines under her eyes, on her forehead, down the bridge of her nose, and on her chin.

"What's next? Oh, she’s got a tiny tube. She’s squeezing out some... finger paint? Yeah, definitely finger paint. She's drawing lines under her eyes and on her forehead. Babe, you missed the paper. You're supposed to paint on paper, not your face."

She picked up her beauty sponge, carefully patting and blending the concealer until it seamlessly melded with her foundation.

"Now she's blending the finger paint with a sponge. It's like she's patting her face with a marshmallow. This is fascinating."

With her base set, she grabbed her contour stick. She twisted it up and drew lines along her cheekbones, jawline, and the sides of her nose. She paused to show the marked lines to the camera before using a contour brush to blend them out, adding dimension to her face.

"She's holding up a... magic marker? No, it’s a stick. She's drawing on her cheeks and nose with it. Maybe it’s a fancy crayon. Oh, she's blending it, too. Babe, why do you have so many steps? And why do you need a magic marker for your face?"

Y/N then reached for her eyeshadow palette. She opened it up and displayed the array of colors to the camera, letting the viewers see the variety of shades. Using a small eyeshadow brush, she applied a neutral base color to her lids, followed by a slightly darker shade in the crease, and finished with a shimmer on the inner corners of her eyes.

"Okay, what’s next? She's got a palette with tiny squares. Looks like an artist's palette. She's using a small brush to put colors on her eyelids. This must be the finger paint palette for the eyes."

Next, she picked up her eyebrow spoolie and brushed her eyebrows into place with quick, precise strokes. She filled them in with an eyebrow pencil, ensuring they looked natural and well-defined.

"Now she's using what looks like a tiny broomstick to brush her eyebrows. Neat, tidy eyebrows. Perfect." Chris had nailed the description of it, for sure.

Then came the mascara. She held up the tube, opened it, and carefully applied it to her lashes, wiggling the wand from the roots to the tips to give her lashes length and volume.

"She's holding up another tube. Lipstick? No, she’s putting it on her eyelashes. Lipstick for the eyes? That can’t be right." His voice lowered in the last sentence, as if he was talking to himself. "Oh, wait, this must be... lash paint. Yeah, definitely lash paint."

Finally, Y/N reached for her highlighter. She displayed the shimmering powder to the camera, then used a fan brush to sweep it onto her cheekbones, down the bridge of her nose, and on her cupid's bow, giving her skin a radiant glow.

"Alright, last step. She's using a shiny thing and brushing it on her cheeks and nose. Glitter paint? Babe, you’re glowing like a star." His tone sounded amazed, his mouth probably opened in awe.

Y/N reached for her lipstick. She held the tube up to the camera, showcasing the rich, vibrant red shade. She opened the small tube and carefully applied it to her lips, making sure to stay within the lines. She pressed her lips together, rubbing them lightly to spread all the contents perfectly.

"Wait, she isn't finished yet. But I- Okay, well, she’s holding up a tiny tube again. She’s twisting it up, and it’s... oh, actual lipstick this time! She’s putting it on her lips, starting from the middle and going outwards. Looks like she’s painting with a tiny brush. And now she’s pressing her lips together and rubbing them? Looks great, princess!"

She then grabbed her lip gloss, a clear, glowy formula, and applied it over the lipstick, adding a high-shine finish. The color was bold and striking, complementing her overall look perfectly.

"And now, oh wait, another shiny tube? She’s using a tiny brush to apply something shiny over her lipstick. More lipstick? Oh, it's gloss! I know that one. She always makes me put it on my pockets. Babe, you really love your gloss. Okay, she’s finishing up now."

She leaned closer to the camera, giving a final look at her finished makeup. Her face glowed under the light, and every product worked together to create a stunning look.

"That's it! She’s all done. And she looks amazing. Fuck- seriously, princess, you’re the most gorgeous girl in the world!"

She blew a kiss to the camera and gives a playful wink before stopping the recording.

#⋆౨ৎ˚ 𝒍𝒆𝒍𝒆 𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒔 #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader fluff #chris sturniolo x reader blurb #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo blurb #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #fluff #blurb #tiktok #chris x reader

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zohaislands · 1 year ago

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Moving From JIRA

Moving From Jira, Pt. 1 Entry posted by Linden Lab in News Friday at 11:08 AM 5,067 views This is the first installment of a series of posts on moving Second Life issues from Jira to a new community engagement portal, feedback.secondlife.com as well as Github Issues. jira.secondlife.com is Second Life’s venerable bug reporting repository, development tracker and feature request system. It…

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#Firestorm #firestorm viewer #Linden Lab #Linden Labs #LL #Project Viewer #Second Life #SL viewer #Virtual Reality #Virtual Worlds #VR #ZoHa Islands #ZoHa Islands blog

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finchys-virtual-world · 3 months ago

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silly silly

Firestorm Viewer on april fools day 2025

#second life #secondlife #slblogger #secondlifeblog #secondlifeblogger #blogger #my post #firestorm #firestorm viewer #firestorm sl viewer #firestormviewer #firestormslviewer

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thecoolerliauditore · 7 months ago

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on one hand, very glad my suspicions of burnout and gimmicks as a result of fear of losing viewership were wrong at least as far as we know. im glad the CCs are having fun and their enjoyment is being prioritized, even if i am still not entirely convinced everyone's on the same page.

on the other hand, it's melancholic but this is pretty much the nail in the coffin in me having any interest left in future installments of the series. for those of you concerned: I am forever haunted by my brain diseases and will be continuing to post, write and draw 3L - SL for the rest of my forseeable life (plus completely disconnecting from any need I feel to interact with WL and beyond leaves me with more time to work on. certain larger scale projects I have had plans for)

i respect grians decision-making and he would know better than me how to run a youtube series, however I do question how much of an oxymoron it is to not care about viewer feedback for a youtube series run on viewership (and when so many of the recent behind the scenes decisions we've been privy to - such as Scar and Grian's hesitancy to team up based on comments calling them "boring" -- imply the opposite regarding the cast's mindset). it makes me concerned for the longevity of the series going forward, since those not happy with the direction that I've seen have all been very passionate and old fans, but I've also seen an equal if not louder support for this season, so I digress.

Part of me wonders how much of the "we want last life 2" sentiment (<-- something I've previously spoken about how I don't agree with) the cast has been exposed to, since it felt strange to me that it was even bought up. I have had a thought about this and the consequences of "don't maintag your negativity" e.g. the reasonable people know to hide their critical posts, and what that leaves a creator with are the unreasonable people, and if it's only that feedback that gets processed, then inevitably things tend to go in weird directions. Were any of us actually "tired" of Desert Duo interacting? Were any of us mad at Gem for killing Grian in SL?

It's frustrating to see crit posts get flagged down with accusations of disrespecting or attacking the CCs, or "we don't want you here anyway, just leave," when myself and all the people I've spoken to being not avid haters but rabid fans who feel frustrated and actively want to continue liking the series. Not to mention most of the people also being active members of the fandom ontop of that -- we claim that fanart is important and makes the series even more special than it already is, yet people seem more than happy to sacrifice that just for the sake of not seeing critical opinions.

t-shirt that says blah blah blah. but I reserve the right of feeling disappointed.

#random thoughts #crit #plus i do wonder how much they're treating each season #like a brand new thing. when there was a clear shift in approach #starting with SL and the cast is so ridiculously rigid #whole thing feels like damage control to me I don't know man #reminds me a lot of the direction pokemon went in lmao but i hesitate #to make that comparison because one is grian from youtube and the other one is fucking pokemon

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hearts4werka · 8 months ago

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NNN day 13 | You Can’t Save Me

“I thought I could do it without dragging you deeper. Shit, I was wrong.”

summary: Matt was a gang member and you knew the life as one or alongside one was a constant gamble for your life, never knowing what you’ll roll nor what consequences you will have to face. Today you didn’t know you would be facing one of them out of Matthew’s not informing you that they owed money to the violent rival gang, not thinking as an outcome I’ll have to face the barrier between life or death, will you somehow survive or face the consequences and give into the dark feeling of death?

warnings: ANGST, painful death, hospital setting, gang membership, heavy language, arguing, between life or death, swearing, mentions of B&E as well as fighting, sensitive topics that could trigger some readers & viewers advisory is supervised! English isn’t my first language so these can suck ass

authors note: lately I haven’t rlly been feeling the best and have got into some issues but I still found the courage to write something for yall for NNN and the intro post is gonna be out later tonight and I just gotta finish up some stuff and I’ll post it, luv y’all sm and hope y’all enjoy this one.

no nut november | masterlist | guestlist

The fluorescent lights above flickered inconsistently, a cruel reminder of the life I was currently losing the grasp over. The sterile scent of disinfection filled the air, mixing with the lingering smell of regret. I lay sprawled on the hospital bed, tubes snaking from my body and monitoring the slow and steady decline of my life. The beeping machines around me marked time I had left and even that was slowly slipping away from my grasp of control, each note a reminder of the moments fading away. My heart was still pounding, but I could feel its rhythm weakening.

Matt stood at the foot of the bed, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his leather jacket with his shoulders hunched as if he were carrying the weight of the whole fucking world. His usually cocky demeanor was stripped bare from him leaving only a vulnerable kid who never actually grew up. Tears streamed down his face while cutting tracks through the sweat that adores his skin like a cruel battle map. “Look, I’m really fucking sorry, okay?” His voice cracked like a twig as he took a step closer, desperate to build a bridge between the gap in between us. “I never thought they’d come for you! I swear, I thought I could handle it!”

My mouth felt dry, each breath a labored struggle to grasp any control over my life. “Handle what, Matt?” I bite back, an involuntary bitterness flowing through the veins within my body. “You think you can just barge into my life, drag me into whatever shit you’re tangled in and then act surprised when it bites us in the ass You’re a goddamn idiot!” “I know!” he shouted, fists clenching and unclenching as if trying to beat the regret from his body. “I know, and I’d give anything to take it back. But I was too fucking proud, too stupid to admit we owed those bastards money! I didn’t think they’d get violent, you know? I thought they’d just scare us or shake us down but then they—”

“They busted through the door like a goddamn SWAT team!” I stated, choking on anger and pain I was feeling all at the same time. “You didn’t think they’d want blood? You dragged me into a fucking war, Matt, and now I’m stuck here.” “I didn’t mean for this to happen!” His voice broke like an old doll and he stepped closer to my slowly dying body. “I thought… I thought I could keep you safe. I thought—” His words faded into a heavy silence instead filled with the beeps of machines surrounding us and the muffled sounds of hospital life outside. I could see the regret washing over him in waves, each one crashing harder than the last. I wanted to hate him, to blame him for this whole mess but I knew that life in the gang was a constant gamble for your life and I had rolled the dice alongside him. Now regretting my choice more and more as my life slipped away from my fingertips.

“Why didn’t you call?” I asked finally, my voice barely above a whisper as it couldn’t go any louder without hurting my throat. “You could’ve just called for help instead of trying to take it all on by yourself. We were supposed to be in this together.” He ran a shaky hand through his hair, the weight of his decisions evident in the deep wrinkles now shadowing his forehead. “I was just trying to protect you,” he murmured under his breath, his words barely making it past the knot in his throat. “I thought I could do it without dragging you deeper. Shit, I was wrong.”

Tears continued to stream down his face as he moved closer to my bed, taking my hand in his shaky one. In that moment, his grip felt both comforting and suffocating. All I could think was how this was it, this was the end of my life and I was stuck with the boy who had pulled me irreversibly into the chaos now I’m loosing my life over. “I can’t lose you,” he whispered, desperation dripping from his voice. “Not like this. Please don’t leave me.” The warmth of his palm felt like fire against my cool skin, dragging my attention back into the moment. “Don’t you dare fuck up your life over this, Matt. You think you can just take all the blame?” I gasped, the effort of speaking exhausting me out of every last bit of energy left inside of me. “If I go, you better make sure to get the hell out of here. Get away from this life but especially get away from this… all of it. Just… live.”

“No,” he cried, shaking his head vehemently. “No, I can’t do this without you. I don’t want to! It doesn’t make sense. You’re my—” “Your what? Your fucking partner? Your—” A fit of coughing washed over me, sharp pangs radiating through my chest as I struggled against the pain. “This isn’t a damn movie, Matt.” I took a ragged breath and stared hard into his eyes. “You get to be free, get to choose a better fucking path. Don’t waste my death living the same life.” Matt fell silent then, the resolve in his eyes cracking intensely. I could see the fight draining out of him, and I realized that we had both lost long ago. “Promise me,” I said, the words barely a whisper.

He nodded slowly, his tears blending with the chaos that filled the space between us. “I promise,” he said. “I will. I’ll do it for you.” As my breath slowed becoming less and less consistent, I focused on him and felt the weight of my own defeat. “Goodbye, Matt,” I gasped, my words slurring and fading. “Please, stay with me!” he pleaded, his voice breaking into pieces like shattered glass. But deep down, I knew the battle has finally came to an end. The darkness was creeping in and as I drifted away into unconsciousness, the last thing I heard was the sound of his broken heart echoing in the sterile silence of the hospital room.

@hearts4werka | do not copy, repost nor plagiarize any of my work on here or different platforms. You can be ‚inspired’ by my work but pls credit me and ask for permission first!

𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 🏷️ | - @sturnsxplr-25 - @strnzzvsp - @luvvs4chriss - @sturniolosweetheart33 - @pussypie456 - @choclatestarfishwithahat - @venusxsturnio - @bagsbyclair0 - @sturnstvs - @dykes4chris - @hoe4matt - @strnilolover - @marrykisskilled - @phone4pills - @emely9274 - @cupiidk1lls - @lily-strnlo - @nicksgirlfriend - @sturniolosiphone - @sophand4n4 - |

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mineownsecondlife · 4 months ago

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I can't get over these cute animal statues....ooough

Antares/115/22/3501

#second life #secondlifephotography #sl #second life furry #Alchemy Viewer

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writergirlll · 6 months ago

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you can write something where the reader and Lando Norris are best friends and everyone knows it. But they also all know that they are in love with each other, or at least they think so.

And if Y/n and Lando have a stream they'll be super cute and viewers will text them things like they're cute together and stuff?

just fluff!!

okeyy. this is probably one of the best requests i've received! Thank you! (Sorry I haven't posted anything in so long, but Christmas is coming and I don't have any time!)

Lando Norris x Sainz!reader (btw. I love Carlos in this!)

STREAM /LN4

Stream with Lando. That was it. Ever since your older brother - Carlos Sainz - joined Formula 1, you had no choice but to go to races with him and spend more time in the paddock than at home. But despite the expectations you had from the world of F1, it was the best time you've ever had.

Soon after Carlos joined Ferrari, you became very close with Charles. And then with your brother's best friend - Lando Norris. He was a great guy, you became inseparable. You became better friends than Carlos and Lando, and that sometimes annoyed Carlos, but he knew that you and he were meant to be together.

---

"Lando no! Give it back to me!" you yelled at your best friend who was running around your house like a madman with a full bowl of popcorn. YOUR popcorn.

Lando turned his head to stick his tongue out at you but you knew how it would end.. Lando running without looking ahead is not a good thing..Just as he was about to turn back and run down the stairs, he was hit by a door that suddenly opened and Carlos was standing inside.

"What the hell are you doing? It's 11pm," Carlos grunted sleepily and you gave him an apologetic look before laughing out loud at Lando, who was lying on the ground, covered in popcorn and holding his nose. "You better go stream, it's less noisy. And let me sleep. And no nonsense," Carlos said warningly, looking at you for a moment before fixing his gaze solely on Lando.

"Yes oh my god," Lando laughed before putting his hand over his nose again and your brother crawled back into his room.

"And you make me some new popcorn. I'll prepare the stream in the meantime," you ordered, Lando saluted and you went into the room.

Soon the stream was ready, so you filled it up for now, sat down on the only chair in the room, and waited for Lando. Several people have already appeared on the stream, about half of whom were fans and the rest were F1 drivers or friends of Carlos or you.

After about five minutes of waiting, when it seemed like a good idea to peel off the remaining nail polish, Lando appeared in the doorway and people on the stream started going crazy. Partly because it was just Lando and partly because it was 11pm and he was at your house...although that wasn't that unusual.

He moved closer to the stream before placing the popcorn on the table next to the computer and checking to see who else was there. "Oh, hi Charles. And Oscar. And Max. And Yuki. Wtf, why aren't any of you sleeping?" he finally yelled, and started looking around the dark rooms to see if he could see any other chair than the one you were sitting on. But when he realized he probably wouldn't find one, he walked over to yours and squeezed in right next to you. So now you were completely glued to each other.

"So how are you all?" you asked as you made yourself comfortable next to Lando.

A few people responded to the chat with an answer to your question, but the rest sent various hearts and sentences about how cute you and Lando are.

"No Max. We're not cute together," you shook your head in disagreement, even though your heart was pounding. You fell in love with Lando from the first day you met him. But then you two became the best friends and Carlos probably wouldn't stand it if you and Lando were dating.

"What if we are?" Lando raised an eyebrow at you and put his arm around your shoulders. "Wouldn't it suit us together?"

"Carlos probably wouldn't stand it," you smiled slightly and looked away from Lando, otherwise you would have stared at him for another two hours instead of sleeping.

But he didn't seem to want to look away. He looked at you with love in his eyes, as he did so often, hoping you would notice. That you would notice how much he loved you and how much he cared for you. And maybe you would have noticed...but you would never want to believe it. Someone like Lando with you? Nonsense.

You returned your gaze to him and caught his gaze drifting to your lips, where it lingered for a good moment before he looked into your eyes. You both missed the fact that people are watching all this on stream, but whatever..

"Can I?" he whispered as he looked at your lips again and you nodded before you connected your lips. At that moment, a shock erupted on the stream and the chat went crazy, which none of you saw, because you were preoccupied with something else..

Your lips moved so in sync, as if they were waiting for the moment to lock together.

You turned around in the chair so that you were straddling him and he placed one of his hands on your waist and the other on your face.

And at this exact moment, it didn't matter if this situation would ruin your friendship, go viral, or if this whole thing would be a huge mistake. You've waited almost five years for this moment, and when you have it, no one can ruin it for you.

"Y/n! Lando! I'm watching your stream! Get off him right now! Kids!" Carlos yelled from the next room and you and Lando disconnected. Okay, so Carlos knows how to ruin this moment.

You and Lando leaned your foreheads together and took deep breaths. "I've been waiting for this for a long time," Lando whispered in your ear, caressing your face before you smiled again.

"Turn off that stream before I come and break your fucking mouth, you damn Norris! My sister? Seriously?" Carlos yelled again from the room and you sighed. This is going to be a long night.

#f1 fanfic #formula 1 #lando norris x y/n #lando norris #carlos sainz #charles leclerc imagine #max verstappen #ferrari formula 1 #mclaren #formula one #formula racing #fluff #lando norris fluff

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