#just really want to draw something quick...
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rooksamoris · 2 days ago
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AFTERCARE THOUGHTS !!
💞 — some quick thoughts on aftercare with them. 💞 — featuring!! leona kingscholar, rook hunt, lilia vanrouge, mozus trein, dire crowley. 💞 — completely gender and sex neutral. warnings: some cursing, mentions of sex, quickies, depression, dire crowley. reader is an adult obvi. around 140 words each.
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LEONA KINGSCHOLAR.
🩷 — Honestly, sex is a lot of energy, physically and emotionally. He keeps water at the bedside table, and he’ll help you get comfortable, wiping you both down, but he is in no mood to get up and prepare a bath and everything. If you like to sleep clothed, which he does not completely get, he’ll tug you some boxers and a top from his drawer and help you into it, but even then his movements are quite sluggish. The most he wants to do is cuddle. He's feeling a little vulnerable, but he won't outright say it. He practically melts when you run your fingers through his hair, muttering promises about how he'll do more in the morning. With his depression, fatigue and sleepiness comes very easily, and sex is just a big exertion of all sorts of energy. 
ROOK HUNT.
🩷 — Not just saying this because I am a Rook fucker, but I genuinely think sex with him is a very sweet and romantic affair, and that translates over into his aftercare. Even after you guys finish the deed, he's ecstatic. He promises to show you a very comforting time, drawing a bath with fancy salts and rose petals. He's waxing poetic to you about what a good job you did taking him, and how he cannot wait to spend many more nights like this with you. Rook insists upon carrying you to the bath, and once you're both in there, he's completely stuck to you, cleaning you up and massaging your hips where he gripped a bit harshly. His heart is overflowing when he feels you tracing the scratches you left on his biceps or the bites you left on his neck.
LILIA VANROUGE.
🩷 — Fucking Lilia needs aftercare and he knows it. He's a certified freak, seven days a week, and that means he's trying everything with you, so long as it is within your comfort zone. That being said, he is a tease and he's poking fun at you right afterwards (as if his lower back isn't aching too). He asks if you enjoyed it, and you just mumble something incoherent, and he's giggling. He’s really great with aftercare. He’s reassuring you and helping clean you up. Drink the water, don’t eat the soup he offers you. Lilia will offer to draw a bath for you, but if you’re too exhausted, he gets it. He makes jokes about how he still gots it in him while he massages the sore parts of your body. Return the favor! He is ecstatic when you offer to rub his back. 
MOZUS TREIN. 
🩷 — Mozus is rigid about academic rules, and based on his comments about physical media versus the internet, we can assume he is quite the old-fashioned gentleman. He knows he’s not as spry as he used to be, so he tends to prepare in advance if you guys are going to sleep together. He takes a moment to collect himself before getting up to draw the bath. If you help him, he will assure you that he’s got it, but if you’re stubborn and insist, he will eventually fold. Overall, he is impressed by your politeness. He’s nearly sixty, and despite how much he wants to take most of the charge, he knows his limits and can eventually be convinced to let you help out. After your first time, you both learn and fall into a more mutually helpful aftercare routine.
DIRE CROWLEY. 
🩷 — Lovingly, aftercare is not his forte. I imagine it is quite awkward, he is still stupified by his orgasm and all. He probably just lays there for a moment, looking up at the ceiling before he clears his throat and thanks you? Whip him into shape or something. If you ask him to get water, he’ll oblige because he wanted some too, muttering about his benevolence like he’s the deity who gifted fire to humanity. Afterwards, he knocks out and clings to you. It’s even worse if you guys were just having a quickie in his office or whatever other “hiding spot” he took you to. He’ll just adjust your clothes and squeeze your shoulder with a single word of praise that sounds like something a teacher would write on a well-done test. He’s not very good with aftercare.
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calmcoldevening · 2 days ago
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Slashers x reader who is begging them for a baby?
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Michael Myers
• In fact, he doesn't really understand the essence of human relationships. You love him? Okay. You want a relationship? He's not sure what that is, but okay. You take care of him, you touch him, and that's nice. You want a child? He doesn't know.
• This thought makes him feel strange. On one hand, he doesn't really like children. He doesn't like people in general, but you are a big exception. But somehow, the thought of you with his baby inside you seems almost cute to him. His possessive instincts are hitting him like a freight train. It's a pleasant thought, and he can't deny it.
• You might not notice it right away, but he starts bringing home all sorts of cute toys and tiny clothes. One day, he even brought home a baby jumpsuit with a tiny pumpkin drawn on it.
• He doesn't say it, but he's already adoring your "pumpkin" in his mind. He will protect them and follow them everywhere like a loyal shadow.
• Michael becomes very possessive and attentive in bed. He read somewhere that it is easier to conceive a child if a woman enjoys sex with her man. Without saying a word, Michael rolls up his mask and kneels between your legs, licking his lips eagerly.
---
"Luv.. I want a baby. Our baby."
You rest your head on Michael's shoulder, facing his neck. He doesn't even flinch. The man was lying on the bed, his hand behind his head, the other resting on your lower back. You sighed, giving him a quick kiss on the neck, and looked up at him. His face, as always hidden behind a white mask, was expressionless.
"Honey, just imagine. The baby will be so pretty. With your beautiful eyes..."
You smiled, tracing a fingernail across his chest, drawing simple patterns. He didn't respond, but his actions spoke volumes. His hand on your back slid lower, grabbing your buttock and pulling you closer to him.
He agrees.
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Thomas Hewitt
• He always wanted children and a full family, but he knew that no one would love him, but then you came into his life. Then he started to worry about passing on his disease to his child.
• When you, all sweet and beautiful, beg him for a child, he blushes like a schoolboy. He really likes the idea of having a child with you, but... Are you sure? Are you sure you want a child with him? ...from him? If you're 100% sure, he's more than okay with it, but he still needs some time to process it.
• Thomas is becoming more affectionate and attentive. He's spending more time with you and consulting with Momma about it. He wants to be a good father that his baby can be proud of.
• He's just hoping that his family won't let him down and won't harm your unborn baby. Because Hoyt likes to leave open beer bottles on any flat surface, and babies are very clingy to everything they can reach for.
• Thomas has already thought about making a "baby mask." It should be a mask that won't scare your little one. Although they will still have to get used to seeing their father wearing a mask, at least the new mask won't scare them. What about a floral-patterned cloth mask?
---
You walk down to the basement, carefully navigating the wet steps. Thomas is standing near his workbench, chopping something that resembles a human form. You didn't pay attention to it and walked up to him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind.
"Tommy.. I want a baby. Please? Our baby."
He flinched for a moment. The knife hand froze and Thomas slowly turned in your arms, looking at you in confusion. His eyes were a mix of fear and.. hope?
"You're going to be a great father."
He hastily wipes his hands on a towel and places a large hand on your stomach, gently stroking it. Thomas nods.
He agrees.
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Bo Sinclair
• Bo is a little surprised. Then he laughs. But when you say it's not a joke, his eyes change, he becomes more serious. Bo has never liked children, even though he hasn't had many in his life. He just finds them annoying, maybe it's a trait he inherited from his mother.
• In fact, he has been thinking about your request, it's true. But he is really afraid of being a bad father. He is just afraid of letting you and the baby down. But he will try his best.
• Bo tries to spend more time with you to make sure that you are really sure about your choice and that you really don't mind that he is the father of your child. Now, he often takes you with him to the city to choose various small items for the baby. You could use Bo and Vincent's old items for the time being, but Bo has too many bad memories associated with them.
• He buys a baby doll and learns how to rock and handle the baby gently. He wants your child to feel comfortable with their father and never know what it's like to be afraid of their parents or to be mistreated.
---
Bo is helping Vincent move a new wax figure into the museum while you watch him from the wall, arms crossed over your chest.
"..Bo, let's have a baby."
"I'll ask Vince to make a wax figure like that."
"No, I want a real one. Our one."
Bo froze. He looked at you, raising his eyebrows in question. The word gave him a strange feeling in his chest.
"Like.. alive?"
"Yes."
"The baby.. alive..."
"Our baby, Bo. Yours and mine."
He comes closer, wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzles his nose into your shoulder. You notice this strange glint in his eyes.
"..alright. Yours and mine."
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Ghostface
•Billy looks at you with disbelief, his arms crossed, his eyebrows furrowed. "A baby? Really? We're psychos, doll." Stu, clapping his hands excitedly, "YAY! It's a new game! We'll teach them how to scare people!!"
• Billy took a long time to think about your request, and Stu had already bought a book called "1000 and 1 Funny Names for Your First Child." Yeah.
• Stu is ready to spend all his money on this baby, but Billy just rolls his eyes. Stu has already bought a couple of sets of baby clothes with horror movie characters, plastic legs, and some Michael Myers and Chucky plush toys.
• In the end, Billy agrees. They don't care who the baby is from, they love him no matter what. They'll do whatever you want. You don't know the baby's gender yet, but Stu has already ordered a delivery from the city's best flower shop to the hospital six months later, with a bouquet of 101 roses and another small bouquet with daisies and the words "Daddy's Little Girl" (he wants a girl, but if it's a boy, he'll just change the order).
---
You're standing between them, and they're looking at each other. Billy's frowning, and Stu's trying not to burst into tears of joy.
"A baby? Really?" Billy's voice is filled with skepticism.
"A BABY! YES YES YES! YEAH!" Stu squeals and runs around the room excitedly, clapping his hands. "We can teach them things!!! HOW TO KILL! HOW TO PUNCH BODIES!! IT'S SO COOL!!"
Billy clucks and grabs the edge of his shirt.
"Calm down. She wants a baby, not a new member of our party." He turns to you, "Are you sure?"
You nod, biting your lower lip. Billy sighs. "Okay, fine... But let's think about it some more, yeah?"
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formulafanfics13 · 3 days ago
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Could you write something when you’re Charles younger sister you’re the only girl and youngest growing up with three older brothers meant that they’re over protective and while you’re older brothers spend time on the track you play tennis a few years ago a young woman started playing at Monaco Alma Rune you soon became friends and you met her younger brother Holger which was climbing the world ranking at the time and you began spending more and more time traveling with them as you fell in love with Holger you didn’t tell you’re family it would be an absolute disaster why would you want to ruin the peace and beside that you couldn’t remember the last time you where this happy, but of course you couldn’t stay in you’re bliss it had to come down eventually it was the week before Lorenzos wedding that Charles somehow finds out that you’re in an two year relationship and you didn’t tell the family you’re at dinner with the Rune family when Charles starts calling relentlessly and Alexandra send you an text saying that Charles is foaming and that she never saw him so angry. Wish you a happy holiday you deserve it!
All The Things I Never Said - CL (sister)
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masterlist
Summary: The reader has been secretly dating Holger Rune for two years, hiding it from her protective brother, Charles Leclerc. During a private dinner, she receives a wave of missed calls and texts—Charles has found out. Panic sets in as she hides in the bathroom, knowing the secret is no longer safe. When she emerges, Holger is waiting, calm and loyal, but the fallout has already begun. Charles is coming.
Content Warning: emotional panic, secrecy, and fear of confrontation with family. Themes include betrayal, loss of control, and the collapse of a hidden relationship.
It had started slowly. That was the worst part.
There hadn’t been some cinematic, heart-stopping moment, no dramatic confessions or stolen kisses in the rain. It was just Alma Rune, your doubles partner from the Monaco Tennis Academy, introducing you to her younger brother one sunny afternoon. You were seventeen. He was sixteen. Blond hair, sharp grin, too much confidence for someone who wasn’t even legal to drive in most countries. Holger Rune had swaggered up to the net after your match, complimented your backhand, and then asked if you were busy that weekend.
And you should’ve said yes. You should’ve said my brothers would kill you, my family would implode, I’ve got enough trouble trying to stay out of the Leclerc headlines, thank you very much.
But instead you said no. You smiled. And it was over from there.
It wasn’t love at first sight. Not really. It was louder than that. Messier. It came in moments, when he tied your shoes during a rain delay in Lyon. When he offered to share his physio after your wrist twinged in Dubai. When he pressed a quick kiss to your shoulder the night before your first WTA main draw and whispered you’ve got this, mon amour like it was nothing.
You’d never wanted anything more. And so, the relationship began. Quiet. Stolen. Sacred.
Two years passed like a secret heartbeat. Sneaking out of family dinners to FaceTime him. Booking tournaments strategically to cross paths. Claiming to be rooming with Alma when it was really Holger’s hotel suite you slipped into at night. It was lies, yes. But not the cruel kind. Not the kind that broke things. Just soft ones. Protective ones. The kind you told to keep your world intact. Because you knew what would happen if your brothers found out. Especially Charles.
Arthur was too hot-tempered. Lorenzo too calculating. And Charles — Charles was all pride and silence and blood-loyalty, the type who would never forgive you if he thought you'd hidden something that mattered.
And Holger? Holger mattered more than you knew how to explain.
So you kept it quiet. All of it. The nights you spent curled in his bed tracing the scars on his knees. The mornings where he helped you stretch out your hamstrings like a lover and a trainer all at once. The handholding in taxis, the sex on balconies, the whispered je t’aime against your collarbone like a promise no one else would ever hear. You guarded it all like treasure.
Until it all fell apart.
It started small, like most disasters. A dinner. Holger’s family, his manager, a few close friends. Just a private celebration for his most recent win. You wore something simple, a blue sundress, a tennis bracelet Charles had given you years ago for your junior circuit debut, a pair of heels Holger liked because they made you look just tall enough to kiss properly.
The Rune family loved you. You knew they did. They’d accepted your secret relationship without hesitation, covered for you more times than you could count. Holger’s mother had even started calling you “min stjerne”, my star. And for once, you felt at peace. You weren’t just Holger’s secret. You were loved.
Until your phone buzzed.
Missed Calls: Charles Leclerc (6)
Then again. And again. Six missed calls in two minutes. You didn’t even have time to react before another name popped up.
Text from Alexandra: Babe. He’s foaming. I’ve never seen him like this. Call him. Now.
Your stomach dropped.
You blinked down at the screen, hands starting to shake, while laughter continued around the table. Holger’s hand was resting on your thigh, thumb drawing lazy circles. You felt your whole body start to go cold.
“Hey,” Holger said, his voice low, his mouth close to your ear. “What’s wrong?”
You couldn’t answer. The phone vibrated again. Charles. Seventh call. Then another message.
Text from Alexandra: I don’t know how he found out, but he knows. He knows you’re dating Holger. He is going to lose it.
Your breath caught. The room spun. You stood up too fast and the chair scraped violently behind you, drawing everyone's attention.
“I-I need to go to the bathroom,” you mumbled, already backing away from the table.
Holger stood immediately, face drawn with concern. “Do you want me to come with—”
“No.” Your voice cracked. “Stay. Please just stay.”
You practically ran.
The bathroom was glossy and silent, marble countertops and gold taps, the kind of place that didn’t deserve to be your hiding spot but became it anyway. You locked the door. Sat on the closed toilet. Pressed both hands to your chest and tried to breathe.
It was over. The secret. The safety. The soft little world you and Holger had built was about to be fucking torched.
How had he found out? You hadn’t told anyone. Alma was loyal. Holger wouldn’t slip. You hadn’t posted anything. You hadn’t left a trail. And yet Charles knew. And he was calling. And he was furious.
You stared down at the phone and didn’t dare answer.
Because you knew what his voice would sound like. Betrayed. Hurt. Dangerous. He’d scream. Or worse, he’d go quiet. Cold. Calculated. The way he got before overtakes at 200kph. You couldn’t handle that.
Because it wasn’t just that you’d kept a secret.
It was that you’d been happy doing it. That you hadn’t wanted to tell him. That you’d found something outside the Leclerc world and kept it for yourself. That you’d dared to love someone who drove fast, travelled the world, spoke with fire in his chest, just like your brothers, but wasn’t one of them.
You’d chosen Holger. Over family. Over tradition. Over peace.
And now? You were going to pay for it. Your phone vibrated again. Another call. Arthur this time. The panic doubled.
You opened the text app with shaking fingers and typed quickly.
To Alexandra: What do I do?
A pause. Then three dots. Then:
Alexandra: You need to go home. Now. Before it gets worse. Before they find him.
You stared at the message until your eyes blurred. Then you wiped your cheeks, stood up, and opened the door. Holger was waiting just outside.
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starboye · 13 hours ago
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you want a good boy that does bad things
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your place was the go to spot for some good sex after a long day, i mean all the best knew of they wanted a good fuck you were the person to go to, and so did nanami, and after a particularly bad day at the office he just wanted you to ride him until his brain went numb
but he was pleasantly surprised when he saw toji already at your place, opening the door to see toji having you full nelson position fucking the life out of you, he could tell toni had been here for a while as he watched the loads drip out of your ass bit by bit, when you finally caught a glimpse of nanami in the doorway you tapped out
there were certain rules that the men that came over knew to follow, like dont catch feelings, if you wanna stop they you stop, and most of all no fights "well hey there handsome" you say reaching out and drawing him closer by his tie "hello to you too" he says a little awkward by toji just sitting there "kento" toji greeted plainly "fushiguro" nanami greeted back in the same tone of voice
"hope you dont mind toji, he just stopped by and i was free so i just let him in" you apologize"no worries i don't mind really, i just need a fuck" nanami loosens his tie before taking off his blazer and shirt, you made quick work of his pants to until he was naked in front of you "fuck still as hot as ever i see" you run your hands through his abs while licking at his tongue, slowly slipping it in your mouth
toji took this moment to just slip right back in to your already loose hole, fucking you right onto nanamis hardened dick, nanami and toji soon matching their thrusting to fuck you at the same pace "did he get even tighter just by having to cock in him" toji asks with a laugh at the way you started tightening around him, tojis grip tightening around your waist simultaneously as nanami cums quickly in your mouth
you gulp it down with such ease (which seems to be something all the guys love about you) "hard day" you ask licking the extra cum off his tip and all he does is nod "take it out on me" you get off tojis dick and turn around "hey, what the hell" toji complains but you just push him onto the bed and sit back on his somehow still hard coc, straddled right over toji while teasing nanami with you hole "loose enough to fit two, plus i know you wanna try it" you smack you ass to more entice the man and i works
kento crawling up on the bed to slip his cock into your stuffed hole "fuckkkkk that's good" you groan satisfied, it made you feel so full, it felt so good being stretched out by two big dick daddies "does this mean i don't get my private sessions anymore" toji jokes "shut up dick" you say making out with him, tojis hands holding your ass open while him and nanami fuck into your hole, making sure you feel every thick inch of this
"keep going please, want you to fill me up so badly" you whine backing your ass onto their cock now like a slut thats had no dick in the past week "should we give the slut what he wants" toji asks smacking your ass until it was red "why not he's such a pro at taking cocks why not reward the man" kento leans forward to turn your head, kissing you while poking his tongue into your mouth for the freak of it all
"yeah take that dick babyboy" toji smirks backing your ass onto both his and kentos cock even harder until they both blew their loads in you, giving you a nice small belly bulge of their cum in you, but that didn't stop them from having a fuck fest for the rest of the night, round after round position after position they had you bent all sorts of ways whole fucking you through the night
just until the sun was rising did things start to slow down "fuck you guys are persistent" you huff barely able to feel your ass or legs for that matter, your body was littered in marks of all kinds, slaps, bite, bruises from their rough touches and many more you couldn't even see "why not go another round huh lightweight" toji asks pulling you ass apart to see the loads squirting out of you "yeah why not" kento fingers the loads back in your hole to use as lube for much later "its gonna be a really long day
xoxo, starboye💋
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taglist: @mailmango @boypied @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @znerac @r0mcom-8ngel @bbibbiiu @tqrgaryenfilms
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loveriotss · 2 days ago
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I need my baby girl monoma like any fic/text beside smut 🤑 your stuff are GOLDEN and I've been addicted
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BACK TO ME ⸻ NEITO MONOMA ; support course + gn reader
SYNOPSIS — a certain blonde is back into your life, bringing with him his cocky attitude and demands. INCLUDES — monoma and reader are in their third year, smau, fluff, crack.
ᡣ𐭩 •。 main masterlist — mha masterlist ꪆৎ ˚⋅
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𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀 𝐅𝐄𝐖 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑,
neito monoma burst through the studio door. you weren’t surprised since this only confirmed your suspicions of him lurking nearby. he waltz over to where you were seated, surrounded by blueprints, rough sketches and a few miniature models.
your face had a bit of soot dusted on it, your hair messily tossed up, the strays and baby hairs held up by a bandana. you made an effort to keep your hands clean though, since the sticky and oily feeling of mechanical work wasn’t the best. you weren’t exactly presentable, but you thought it was okay since the client was monoma.
he stood beside you, his back towards the table, making sure to not touch anything (a lesson learnt from last time when he ended up knocking your precious project) as he looked at you with his signature cocky grin.
“i must be the most on – time client you’ve ever had, right?” he asked to which you gave him a look, one brow raised as you tapped your pen against the blueprint spread out in front of you.
“lurking doesn’t count as punctuality, monoma.”
“i call it dedication. you should be grateful for the eagerness i have for your work instead of calling me a lurker.” he pointed out, voice smooth and annoyingly self – assured. he leaned forward a little, eyes scanning the mess of paper. “you’ve been busy.”
you didn’t reply at first, instead nudging one of the finished sketches towards him. “i narrowed it down to three. each one’s built for mobility and accessibility, they can also be attached to either your belt or glove.” you tapped the final drawing — sleeker, more compact. “this one’s the most efficient. minimal parts, easy to conceal so that villians can’t catch up with your timings, and convenient for you to keep track of the quirks.”
monoma blinked, impressed as he nodded to your words with raised brows. “you really thought this through.”
before you could stop yourself, you replied, “i always think things through. unlike someone who crashed into million – yen tech like a windstorm.”
he winced. “ouch, okay. i see that your emotional distress is still present.”
“mhm,” you hummed. “your monetary compensation was nice though.”
“you blocking me for two weeks wasn’t nice though.”
“two months,” you corrected.
he groaned dramatically and leaned against the table, eyes scanning the design again. “alright. let’s go with this one. the compact design feels.. heroic.” you scoffed under your breath. “you just want to look cool.”
“i always look cool, l/n.” he stated proudly, then gave you a sideways glance. “since we’re done.. wanna grab a snack or something? i’ve got a new ramen brand, how about you try it out with me? you just have to taste, not cook.”
you raised a brow, “you cook?”
“instant ramen, yes. but i do it well.”
“fine, impress me.”
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you watched monoma intently from across the tiny kitchenette tucked into the back corner of the support studio. he was crouched slightly, carefully pouring hot water into bowls while humming to himself like he was a five – star chef preparing a gourmet meal. 
you leaned your chin on your palm and subtly lifted your phone. click! you got a quick, candid shot — monoma hunched over the bowls as he decorated them with toppings, brows slightly furrowed in concentration, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and hair a little messier than usual. it was annoying how photogenic he was.
he looked up just as you locked your screen, holding out one of the bowls with an overdramatic flourish. “dinner is served! try not to cry from how incredible it is.” he added in with a wink.
you accepted the bowl with a dry stare. “if i cry, it’ll be because this is my third instant meal this week.” he chuckled and sat beside you, bumping your shoulder slightly. “hey, this one has real seaweed. it counts as nutrition. nothing compared to your normal and bland instant noodles.”
you looked at him, amused. “thanks for the meal, chef.” 
“you’re welcome. and for the record,” he added, slurping a bit of his noodles before grinning at you through the steam, “i missed getting nagged at by you. the stares you give me really reminded me of old times.”
you paused before glancing away, bringing your ramen to your mouth to hide the smile creeping onto your face. “.. you’re weird.”
“and yet you didn’t block me this time.”
“shut up and eat your noodles, neito.”
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NOTE — math test on monday kinda nervy
©loveriotss — all rights reserved to me. don’t try to copy/steal my work. do not use any of my ideas/translate my work without my permission.
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vviolets444rroses · 11 hours ago
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— firefighter!rafe and one very proud kindergartner !!
based off of this request <3
“i’m sorry babygirl— stuck at the station today,” rafe sighs, cassie perched on the counter while rafe ties her laces. you watch from the doorway as you sip your water.
a small nod. a mumbled, “okay.”
“you remember uncle buck? you met him at the fire station cookout a while ago. i told him you’d be there, and he’s excited to see you.” he grins down at her, hoping to lift the mood. she gives a small, reluctant smile back.
he kisses you both before heading out the door, boots heavy on the steps. she watches from the steps of the porch, backpack on, chin resting in her hands as he drives away.
you knew the truth, though. rafe was gonna be there with buck. still, it broke your heart seeing cassie so bummed. you sat beside her, fixing her pigtails and bangs.
“he really wanted to come, sweetheart.” “i know… it’s okay. daddy’s out saving people.”
later in the day at the pre-k…
you showed up with snacks and juice boxes in hand. you wave at cassie from across the cafeteria and then go to mingle with the other parents.
a doctor and nurse showed the kids how to wash their hands. a dentist demonstrated brushing on a giant model. a police officer and his k-9 dog gave a quick demo of their search and rescue work.
you glanced at cassie every so often— she seemed to be enjoying herself. but you would also catch her staring at the door, hoping it was her dad walking through next.
after the police officer had walked off with his k-9, the cafeteria doors opened.
buck walked in first, waving at the kids with one hand and holding tank’s leash in the other. cassie immediately sat up straighter when she saw the big chocolate lab trotting beside him, in his own little uniform too.
all the kids cheered as the pair walked into view. cassie clapped but her eyes were already drifting behind him.
rafe stepped in a moment later, full uniform, helmet under one arm, light smile but even bigger when he spots his daughter among the group.
cassie was already on her feet, running straight into his arms as he crouched down. he hardly had any time to put down his helmet before he wrapped her into a big hug. “daddy!”
“you said you weren’t coming!” she giggles, holding her dad’s face in her tiny hands.
he shakes his head, “momma and i thought you’d like the surprise. did we get ya?” she nods with a cheek-to-cheek grin and hugged rafe once more before returning to her spot.
you watch from the back of the cafeteria as rafe and buck introduced themselves and tank the dog to the kids. there was no way anyone could wipe the smile off your face right now.
rafe sets his helmet down, gives tank a quick scratch on the head, and steps to the front of the crowd.
“who here knows what to do if your clothes catch on fire?” he looks around, but fast as ever, cassie shoots her hand up in the air.
“stop, drop, and roll!” cassie shout out loud. “that’s right,” he grins. “my girl’s got it.”
buck rolls out a mat and all the kids take turns practicing the fire safety technique. they talk about what tank does for the fire station and show them their gear.
when he wraps up, the class claps loudly and that was the end of the community helpers day. the kids all scramble out, but cassie is already in her dad’s arms, rambling about every bit. as if it didn’t just happen.
“hold on! i made daddy something. momma, where’s my backpack?” she asks with excitement. you hand her the backpack and rafe puts her down to let her search for whatever she made him.
she pulls out a drawing- stick figure rafe in his firefighter uniform, a big red fire truck beside him, and a lopsided tank in gear too. she even drew herself too, her tiny hand holding rafe’s. and a giant heart in the corner of it all.
he crouches down to her height, cheesing big. “this is perfect, babygirl,” he kisses her cheek. “i’m putting this in my locker first thing when i get back to the station.”
cassie turns to you, “do you like it, momma?” you smile, leaning in to look. “i think you made daddy look extra cool.”
“because he is,” she says simply.
rafe picks her up, letting her hang on his hip. his helmet under one arm and the drawing in his free hand. he glances over at you.
“we did good, baby.” he mutters.
you press a quick kiss to cassie’s cheek then one to his jaw, “we always do.”
a/n: this was so cutesy to make- thank youu for the request!! can you guys tell i am insane and have a type in firefighters... i've literally only written for them. i have other types but like i wouldn't know how to write them LOLOL :3 but please like/reblog if you want more, thank you my loves!
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housemdork · 1 day ago
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house md rewatch: 2x19, "house vs. god"
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the term "functional vampire" rewired my brain, as did this entire episode.
this one completely upended my episode rankings. i think this may be my favorite episode of the show thus far. now i have to contend with that/balance it for my season review smh. fittingly, this has the potential to be my longest recap yet, so godspeed to you, soldiers!
i think i'll start with an odd exchange between wilson and house (before shit hits the fan) that i think encompasses 2x19's conflict.
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predictably, house is absolutely enraged by the patient, boyd, claiming to be a faith healer. house hates the concepts of religion and faith on principle because he can't rationalize how someone can believe in something that they empirically cannot prove. he has a really odd way of explaining why this makes him so mad:
"you know, i'd get it if people were just looking for a way to fill the holes. but they want the holes. they want to live in the holes. and they go nuts when someone else pours dirt in their holes."
house's irritation stems from the way he thinks people cling to uncertainty. rather than attempt to solve it, they attribute that uncertainty to a higher power and get upset when someone - like house - attempts to disrupt that. in house's worldview, however, his very profession necessitates a rejection of that uncertainty. the more boyd pushes back on this, the more frustrated he gets.
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i start with this bit first because everyone in 2x19 is subject to uncertainty, and he's no exception. at the end of the episode, when the case is all said and done (much more on that later), boyd comes to apologize to house (which pissed me off lol because boyd was 15 with a fever. house is just a cunt). he says the following, very prophet-like: "you're lucky. you go through life with a certainty that what you're doing is right. i know how comforting that is. good luck."
not only is "luck" a concept that is probably foreign to boyd, but this draws a very uncomfortable attention to house's inevitable fallibility, which we just saw some of in 2x17. house, try as he might, cannot be certain, especially because the solution to boyd's case was such a fluke, and wilson was the one who prompted the answer, anyways. house does so much to preserve, if nothing else, his intellect, but some small piece of him is aware of its imperfections. he's trying to get out of his hole, but it's not as easy as he claims:
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wilson, meanwhile, attempts to control the uncertain, rather than deny it outright like house. when we first meet grace, wilson is trying to convince her to keep undergoing treatments, or at least palliative care, for her terminal diagnosis; they both know that she has a limited amount of time, but if he becomes EXTREMELY involved with her, by his logic, he can have a hand in solving/mitigating that uncertainty. that's the plain jane version, at least...much more to come.
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meanwhile, and much more subtly, 2x19 posits chase as the middle ground between these 2 modes of handling uncertainty. he just...lives with it. whether or not this is a remnant of his upbringing or not, i found his respect and intrigue regarding boyd's faith to be really fascinating. when house first learns that boyd is a faith healer, chase interrupts to say: "a lot of people experience their religion as something more than symbolic." this then goes on to have massive, very palpable ramifications, reaffirmed by the last tally marks he put on the house vs. god whiteboard.
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i really like the contrast this has with cameron's quick treatise on religiosity, or a lack thereof, when giving the MRI with foreman. whereas chase can exist within the uncertainty, can understand the draw of The Holes house hates so much, cameron rejects it altogether, saying that it is beyond our comprehension and thus should be beyond our concern. given that she's so involved with the here-and-now, so overextended into the lives of her patients, this tracks, at least to me.
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another big marker of uncertainty's impact (and certainty's impossibility) occurs via house's poker game. he keeps wilson out because he knows that wilson, of all people, can not only read him, but has a lie brewing that house can't decipher without external help (a message from "god," maybe?). and when that lie gets revealed, wilson is right: "you're mad because i lied to you and you couldn't tell...that's why you didn't want me in your poker game, because when it comes to being in control, gregory house leaves our faith healer kid in the dust...if the universe operates by abstract rules, you can learn them and protect yourself."
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this is just one of the ways poker functions in 2x19 - a site for uncertainty to flourish. i think it's weird that there are 2 poker-themed episodes so close together, but i think the premise functions even better in "house vs. god" than in "all in." blasphemy, i know.
with all that being said, house's diagnosis of wilson as a "functional vampire" actually encompasses a lot of the ways the characters encounter/handle (however subliminally) the uncertainty between faith and unbelief. it's also how they legitimate and self-actualize - their actions yield an action or phenomenon that they benefit from in return. it's another example of house implicating himself in his tirades against wilson's bullshit, and i eat it up every time. let's make a list:
boyd and house are united by their need to "heal." i'll say this till i'm blue in the face - house has remained a medical doctor because he cares about people, and the rush he gets from solving a case is baked into that face. boyd, meanwhile, gets the satisfaction of loving people and feeling like god's chosen. ironically, however, boyd is more cognizant of their similarity than house is. his parting words about luck imply that he's even reconsidering this calling, while house remains victim to its absolutism - he can't conceptualize any other version of life.
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house's trademark neediness, which he admits to, also qualifies him as something of a vampire. taking and taking from wilson emotionally fulfills his sense of self and a need for wilson (that we haven't really addressed yet) is a lot like wilson's vampirism, just in the reverse. this episode is sooo "vampire empire" by big thief-coded.
wilson's functional vampirism is the best way his need of neediness has been conceptualized yet. whereas an "ordinary" person would get burnt out by his work in oncology, it provides him with an endless stream of needy individuals. it's kind work tainted by an insane degree of selfishness. specifically regarding grace, wilson needs to be the one to help grace rather than anything extraneous; that's why he's especially upset with house and co. when he sees that boyd has been "helping" grace. i don't think his concern over false hope is untrue, necessarily, but that's definitely not the sole operating factor here.
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the boyd and house parallels regarding their own vampirisms actually transfers to boyd and wilson by the end of 2x19, however subtly. their bodily sins (both to do with sex) are both represented and disguised by their need to help people. they both get some reward from helping grace - boyd reinvigorates his faith and wilson fills the gaping black void of neediness in his heart (plus sex. he's such a villain here).
next. did you guys know that there are gay people in our doctor show? 2x19 is bursting with a lot of subtextual queerness not limited to strictly comphet wilson or hilson or house's bisexuality but a wonderful combination of all 3, and then some.
comphet wilson is here, and at his most troubling. i mentioned in an earlier recap that wilson's love language (to use a dated term/concept) is very clearly acts of service. he describes to house how he ended up moving in with grace after helping her with groceries, transportation, etc. while still being overly involved and unprofessional, these are objectively kind actions. so, like always, wilson has to ruin it by injecting sex into the mix.
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at this point, it really seems like wilson truly can't conceptualize any sort of relationship between a man and woman - professional, platonic, romantic, etc. - that doesn't end in sex. maybe he's spiraling a bit post-julie, but it also reads as a frantic attempt to control the uncertain both within 2x19 and beyond. what lies beyond the heterosexual is uncertain, if not incomprehensible, to wilson, and his catch-all for relationships is working again after he failed to satisfy julie. it's double-sad, really.
meanwhile, the house/wilson synergy doesn't just implicate wilson in this scenario; house's innate queerness comes part and parcel with his reliance on wilson. i'll make a much longer post (more likely a formal, thesis-driven article, actually) on this at some point, but all the ways that house deviates from the textbook Normal that exists in house md may be read as markers for house's queer identity. i sure read them that way. one of his most maladaptive traits is his misanthropy; at ground zero, his disability unfairly isolated him from the life he once knew. 2x07's comparisons between the gay patient, kalvin, and house reaffirm this.
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so it bears underscoring that the only offered solution to house's neediness and isolation atp is wilson specifically. his neediness is compatible solely with the man who can never be fully satisfied in his (sexual) devotion to women. this is not heteronormative in any way (sorry to keep abusing that word). remind me of this seed of a thought when we get to the blood donor/recipient conversation because then they literally start invoking penetration when having this exact same conversation lol.
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lastly, i think it's pertinent that are 2 major scenes that associate masculinity, sex, and shame in moments of exposure: the poker game itself and when boyd reveals his rash, his sign of herpes encephalitis. in both cases, the setting is dominated by men (isn't most of house md? lol) with prying, diagnosing eyes. house, wilson, chase, and foreman are quite literally looking to diagnose boyd, but boyd's father is trying to discern boyd's character, to determine where things have gone wrong regarding his faith.
the physical act of revealing the rash is almost like a humiliation rite for boyd; they demand that he take off is clothes and the rash is just below his waist. boyd, and boyd's persona, come crashing down in this moment, as he's failed to live up to the standard imposed by himself and his faith community around him by having sex.
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the poker game, meanwhile, moves this dynamic away from physical humiliation and into mental/emotional strife. it's also highly ritualized (a theme in house and wilson's relationship throughout the show - games!). wilson is put under the same diagnostic microscope, except these ill-informed strangers, whom house doesn't even give names, are trying to discern the details of why wilson is screwed up.
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once again, another persona collapses under the weight of these masculine gazes bent on exposing the respective scenes' primary subject, thus engendering sex and gender-based humiliation. insert something about how "all will be revealed in god's eyes" here, idk.
following all of this, wilson somehow makes a somewhat redeeming statement (he is NOT absolved. i'm glad he lets grace go on her merry way to her trip in florence, and i hope that she wasn't too in-shambles over him). after deliberating on the legitimacy of house's "victory" over god, wilson declares that, "it is possible to believe in something and still fail to live up to it."
on an immediate level, this implicates the image that boyd wanted to maintain, one of purity and healing and godly influence. in wilson's case, this is to do with his own kind, nonmanipulative oncologist (and heterosexual) persona.
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but writ large, this applies to every character. cameron will always be living up to her impossible convictions, believing in them strongly despite circumstances like those in 2x18; chase will continue to try to live up to his idea of what house requires of him; foreman will try to live up to the idea that he's nobly above the rest of the team, struggling against that which makes him similar to house; cuddy will try to live up (and succeed, dammit!) to the astronomically tough expectations and standards demanded of her stature. the list goes on and on. maybe those standards are everyone's metaphorical "holes," and this episode does an excellent job exhuming how house md characters live inside of them.
this mammoth-sized recap is to say nothing about the second gag-off that these 2 have on the street, or not the real nitty-gritty of it at least (i love how house always gets SO CLOSE to winning during their fights, but wilson pulls out a heavy-hitting read at the last second). nor do i really get into the larger narrative house md builds around atheism. i'll link what i've said about that in the past here. but overall, after i've sat down to write this, i'm confident that "house vs. god" is my favorite episode of the show thus far. the only one that could give this a run for its money upcoming is 2x24.
one last thing...
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HE LOOKS SO GOOD IN THIS EPISODE. I CAN'T STAND IT. THEY DID IT ON PURPOSE. THEY SPECIFICALLY MADE HIM EXTRA GOOD LOOKING SO HIS VILLAINY WOULD HURT MORE.
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viviansturns · 1 day ago
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𝒑𝒆𝒏 𝒑𝒂𝒍𝒔 - part 1
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... you find yourself falling for your university pen pal
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cw (whole series): flirting, fluff, very sad angst
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September 10th, 2024
Hi Matt, Or do you go by matthew?? I kinda like matt better so i'm sticking with that.
I don’t really know how to start this. I haven’t written an actual letter since I was like, 8, and it was addressed to the Tooth Fairy. I also wrote one to my family when I tried running away.
Anyway, I’m y/n. I’m in my first year at Oxford, and I signed up for this pen pal thing because I thought it would make me have purpose and also practice my penmanship. I honestly just want to yap and vent into letters for some rando to respond. 
I’m majoring in psychology which is already horrifying. Also fun fact I like drawing people I see on the subway. Or just drawing people in general, that’s always fun. I do pottery, I play volleyball, and I have an cat named sally. I’m also super into photography and polaroids and such.
I don’t know what you look like, but I’ll stereotype you when you get back to me and tell me your major!
I hope this program’s mailing system is quick. Anyways bye!
—y/n
P.S. Are we allowed to swear? Cause i’m itching to.
_______________
September 21th, 2024
Hey Y/N,
Matt’s good, matthew is for my teachers and that’s it. Also the mail shipping takes like a week, that's crazy.
I haven’t written a letter like this since forever, so this feels different and way personal than text messages or whatever.
I’m in second year at UCLA, studying Art History. Mostly trying to figure out why people painted the weird stuff they did, and hoping my own sketches don’t look like a toddler’s.
Pottery sounds impressive. I can’t even handle a moldable eraser I fear… anyways I’m super into drawing people too so it’s crazy that we both draw ppl on the subway!
I don’t have a cat, but I’m definitely a cat person. Low-key hoping you’ll send a Polaroid of Sally sometime. Please please please.
I like that you want to vent in letters. Same here. No pressure though, I just wanna talk to people about things.
Anyways I’m looking forward to hearing more about Sally and everything else you want to share.
—Matt
P.S. Here's a sketch of a cat if that maybe convinces you to send me a pic…
ALL CREDITS TO John Nixon ON PINTEREST
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October 2th, 2024
Hi Matt,
You win. Sally and I took a Polaroid just for you. I tried to get her to pose but she’s deeply uncooperative and bit my thumb halfway through. Ignore that my face is in it, being right up against my face is the only way she’ll ever cooperate.
I put it in a little sleeve thing so it doesn’t get smudged. I expect a thank you note (or another sketch).
Also your cat sketch was like so good. Like, I showed my roommate and she said, “Tell your pen pal I’d buy that for 12 bucks at a thrift store.” Which is her version of a compliment, I think.
Psychology is still horrifying. Did you know there's a phenomenon called "the illusion of explanatory depth" where you think you understand something until you try to explain it and realize you know nothing? That’s literally this degree.
Anyway. My week’s been kind of weird. I dropped my coffee on a guy’s shoe and then he asked me out right after. I guess that's a good sign? 
This letter’s kind of all over the place but whatever, you said no pressure, and I’m holding you to that. 
Hope UCLA is treating you nice. Tell me more about your art history class! Also, I’m kinda sad that the shipping takes so long. I guess the distance from oxford to LA is really far but still…
—Y/N
P.S. You never answered if we’re allowed to swear. I’m going to assume yes and just censor myself creatively until confirmed.
_______________
October 13th, 2024
Y/N,
Sally looks like she owns your apartment and you just pay rent. Also I thought she was a full grown cat, but she's a kitten! Also I owe you a thank you for the Polaroid, sally is so cute. You look nice too. Or at least the corner of your face
The sketch I sent was just me messing around. I hadn't drawn anything outside of class in a while. It felt good, actually. Thanks for giving me a reason, I might just keep doodling shit for fun.
This week’s been foggy. I’ve been spending more time in the library than I want to admit, mostly pretending to read while I look at the pages. There's a painting in one of my textbooks of a woman crying in the dark, but you can’t see her tears. Just her hands. I keep coming back to it.
You said you draw strangers. Ever think about what they’d say if they saw the versions of themselves you made? Do you make them kinder looking?
—Matt
P.S. I wouldn't mind any other pictures of you or Sally or something.
_______________
October 23rd, 2024
Matt,
Thanks! You’re so sweet, I'm sure you look nice too.
And yeah, I wonder about that sometimes, how people would react if they knew I’d sketched them mid-yawn or while picking at their sleeves on the subway. I don’t make them better or worse. I try to draw them like they are, but there’s probably bias in my work. I think it’s hard not to romanticize people when you’re just observing.
Thanks for the sketch again and the new one. Just so you know, I’m cutting them out to put it above my desk. I also want to get back into sketching, if you wanna keep doing that back n forth.
Oxford’s been grey in that relentless, boring kind of way. I bought an overpriced croissant and ate it on the steps outside the psych building like I was in a film. It was stale.
What about you? You never really told me what made you choose Art History. Or drawing. Why that, and not something practical?
Also, if you really want a photo of my full face, say it straight next time. I’m not scared.
—y/n
P.S. That was a threat.
P. P. S. I'm just kidding, you’re cute lol
_______________
November 3rd, 2024
Y/N,
Fine. I want a photo of your full face. Direct enough? I kinda want to draw if you think that's okay.
As for Art History, my mom wanted me to study something “useful.” I picked this to spite her at first. Then I stayed because it stopped feeling like spite and started feeling like mine. I like looking at something that once mattered to someone else and figuring out why. That includes faces, sometimes.
I don’t know. The world’s already loud enough. Drawing is the only thing that makes it quiet. It’s not even about being good at it. Just having a place to put things.
Lately, it’s been harder to concentrate in class. Everyone’s always talking like they’re performing for each other, and I keep zoning out. It’s exhausting, pretending I care when most days I’m just trying to keep from going under.
I’ve started sketching you. Just based off that Polaroid. Not in a weird way. I just liked the way the light hit your cheek. I’m really into sketching people if you haven’t noticed…
Send the real photo. I want to get it right. Or at least try.
—Matt
P. S. I’m out of things to P. S. write back soon I guess?
_______________
November 14th, 2024
Matt,
Umm I’ll have you know I always write back as fast as possible. mail just takes ages dude. Also, I attached the photo. Let me know if it’s okay, I tried to make it a not awkward picture.
It’s weird, letting someone draw you. There’s something about it that feels like handing over a version of yourself and hoping they don’t miss the parts that matter. But I trust you. I don’t know why.
Psych’s been eating me alive. We’re doing a unit on perception. How two people can look at the same thing and see it completely differently. It made me think about you. But I feel like you pay attention. 
And I get it, it’s also hard for me to pay attention in class. Everything just moves so slow.
Also, I sat in that terrible jazz café again. The muffins haven’t improved. But there’s something comforting about knowing exactly what you’re going to get. Even if it’s underwhelming. I really like consistency if you couldn’t tell. Maybe that’s why I like this whole pen pals thing
Draw me how you see me. I won’t be mad if it’s not perfect.
—Y/N
P. S. Ugh. I’m tired.
[Photo here, could not find a good one, mb! Also i wanna be inclusive so just imagine ur face here.]
_______________
November 28th, 2024
Y/N,
The photo is way better than the Polaroid. You’re smiling in it, which surprised me for some reason. Not in a bad way. Just didn’t expect it.
I finished the sketch. It’s folded into this letter. I kept thinking I was done and then going back in to fix the curve of your mouth. You smile a little unevenly. That’s not an insult. It made the whole thing feel more alive.
Most of the time when I draw people, it’s like cataloging expressions. With you, it felt more like remembering. That sounds too serious, but I don’t know how else to say it.
I’ve been kind of stuck lately. Everything’s loud and too much and pointless in that vague way where nothing is technically wrong. But drawing you just steadied everything for a bit.
Anyway. Hope it looks like you. Hope you don’t hate it.
—Matt
P. S. You don’t have to, but I’m always willing to draw more.
P. S. P.S. I know the pen pals program is pausing over the break, but I’ll miss hearing from you. Write to me anyway?
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ALL CREDITS TO @Chommang ON YOUTUBE AND INSTAGRAM.
_______________
December 10th, 2024
Matt,
Duh, I'll write during the break. Even if it’s just one letter because of this stupid shipping time.
I didn’t hate the sketch. I love it, actually. I stared at it longer than I should admit. You made me look calmer than I usually feel. Softer, maybe. It’s strange, seeing yourself through someone else’s hands. But I don’t know, it made me feel understood.
It’s literally unfair the amount that you’re able to capture facial expressions. I showed it to Sally and she immediately sat on it, so take that as her formal approval.
I’ve been thinking a lot about perception lately. Not just in the psych-class way, but in the real-world way. Like, how you can know someone for years and never see them. Or never know someone for a couple months and see them.
Oxford’s gotten cold. The kind of cold that makes your bones feel hollow. But I like the way the fog rolls in across the river in the mornings. Makes everything feel unreal in a good way.
Anyway, you said you’re always willing to draw more. So I’m holding you to that.
—Y/N
P.S. I made you a playlist. You don’t get a say in the matter. It’s one of those spotify codes that you can scan.
_______________
December 22nd, 2024
Y/N,
I’m glad you liked it. I think I was trying to draw how you made me feel, not just how you looked. Hope that doesn’t sound weird.
I’d be lying if I said I haven’t reread your last letter a few times. That part about perception—I keep circling back to it. How some people never see you right, and others just... do. I think that’s rare.
Campus is quiet now. Everyone’s gone or going. I stayed behind for a few more days before heading home. Something about the silence feels easier to manage when it’s earned.
You mentioned fog. I haven’t seen real fog in months. Just Los Angeles haze that smells like old traffic. But the sky’s been orange lately, and it’s the kind of color that makes you want to say something even if there’s no one around.
I’m working through the playlist. Trying to really pay attention to the lyrics.
—Matt
P.S. I hope you’re having a good christmas break. If we were in the same city, I’d take you out for hot chocolate at the Italian cafe. Or maybe a better place, I don’t know oxford.
ALL CREDITS TO Mike Phillips ON PINTEREST
_______________
January 3rd, 2025
Matt,
You got your wish. I’m writing from my childhood bedroom. I’m surrounded by a shit ton of glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling. Sally is sulking in my suitcase because she loves my parents and knows I’m leaving again soon..
Break has been fine. Way stranger than I’d like, like time folds differently here. Everyone I used to know feels just a little unfamiliar, like they’ve all been redrawn slightly wrong. Or maybe I’m the one who shifted. I don’t know.
Your letters make more sense than most conversations I’ve had since I got back. That’s not a sad thing. I think it just means I trust you in a way that’s starting to feel pretty permanent. I guess I’d say my relationship with my parents is complicated. I’m not about to trauma dump on you, but things are just weird around them.
Appreciate these lovely sketches, that’s a great santa/elf?
—Y/N
P.S. You were right about smiling. It is harder to fake than it looks.
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ALL CREDITS TO Elliana884 ON PINTEREST
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idkkk how i feel about this...i tried being creative and now i have this.
*THESE POSTS ARE SCHEDULED AS I AM AWAY CURRENTLY, TO FIND OTHER PARTS YOU NEED TO SCROLL DOWN ON MY BLOG*
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docholligay · 2 days ago
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LIEUTENANT ROSS FOR THE ONLY ONE NOT PLAYING THE ANIME AGE GAME.
I am well known, and accept happily the crown, for hating the anime age game. I HATE the teen protags. And it's not so much them being teenagers--I don't hate something like Revue Starlight, where the protags are teens but they act like teenagers and are treated like teenagers continually--but stuff like this, Sailor Moon, etc, where I am continually treated to Schrodinger's Teenager, I have a lot of trouble with. Mostly because they are strong and bold and can lead and all that horseshit until i criticize them for doing something stupid, and then all of sudden their age is extremely relevant and how can I be so meeeeaaannnnnn to a chiiiiiiillllllld. Ignoring completely that these people are never written as young as their given age.
ANYWAY, at the very least, Ross is like, "Hi. has it struck anyone that this is fucked up? Just me?" Which I think is a very reasonable position to hold! At least it is the one time that seems logically consistent with ed's given age. His actions are often not super consistent with age. (I DO NOT WANT TO HEAR ARGUMENT ON THIS I HAVE HAD IT ABOUT EVERY PROPERTY YOU CAN IMAGINE. YOUR DISSENT IS NOTED FOR THE RECORD. IT'S FINE) But thatnk God at least for this moment!
Hughes responding with a really beautiful amount of cope here. If your argument is that only they can do it what you are saying is, "It's acceptable to use children, and I am fine with it, if they have a specialized skill."
She would never, but if it were me, i would be like, "Would you let Elicia do it?" Because that's the real measure of your beliefs. It's fine to send other people's kids to die, but is it fine to send yours? How much do you believe in the glorious cause?
PLEASE DO NOT COMMENT ANYTHING THAT COULD EVEN REMOTELY LEAD TO ME REALIZING SOMETHING OR KNOWING SOMETHING NEW. Do not confirm, deny, draw attention to something I missed EVEN IF I SHOULD HAVE SEEN IT, contextualize in a cultural or historical way, anything. I hate that I have to be so specific but I am trying to experience this show totally clean. IF YOU SPOIL ME I WILL BLOCK YOU.
QUICK LINK TO THE SPOILER-FILLED FUNTIMES DISCORD HERE. THEY WOULD LOVE TO HEAR THE THINGS YOU KNOW AND YELL ABOUT ME
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americaninferno · 2 days ago
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ao3s down time to post drabbles here
crooked
pairing: vandermatthews
rating: m
wc: 544
a/n: thus was one of the very first things i ever wrote for them and i still Like it, even if it's not the quality i try for normally but hey ho
With more force than necessary, he jams the half-empty whiskey bottle into Dutch's chest.
“Here. Drink.”
Dutch has never given him such a hateful glare before.
He obeys though, after a moment, holding his nose gingerly with one hand and slugging the booze with the other.
“When you've finished it, I'll fix your nose.”
“Oh, fuck you,” Dutch mumbles with a wince, stuffy and slurred, “I'll do it myself.”
“No, you won't, you big pussy,” Hosea snaps back, still irritable. “You'll bitch and moan all night until I end up doing it anyway.”
“Well, it's your fuckin’ fault!”
“You swung at me first.”
“You was messin’ with me,” Dutch says blearily.
He was, but the fist lobbed at his face was uncalled for.
Really, Hosea hadn't done anything at all. Just watched idly as Dutch had gone on one of his rambles, something about freedom and buying land together, the two of them, to raise some kind of family that he wasn't sure how two men would acquire. In fact, when Dutch had realized he wasn't listening, Hosea'd been absently staring at the slope of his nose, admiring it, enjoying how his eyelashes that caught the firelight framed the bridge of it on either side.
And about twenty seconds later, he'd broken it.
It wasn't Hosea's fault that the big idiot hadn't expected him to swing back to his shove.
“Lemme see it,” he murmurs, and for the second time in one night, hallelujah, heavens be, Dutch listens.
It's honestly not bad. Not that bad, anyway. There'll be a bump there, probably, one he'll carry for the rest of his life but Dutch has always had a strong nose, and it'll suit his features just fine. It'll heal alright too, and Hosea says as much, but Dutch only scoffs.
“Then hurry up n' do it.”
He tries. The second he touches it, swollen and bloodied, Dutch yelps so loud his voice cracks. His own hand flies to Hosea's wrist, clammy but strong.
“You want it fixed or not?”
“Yes!” Dutch barks, knitting his brows together in agony. “Goddamn you, Hosea, I could kill you right now.”
“Lemme fix it, then you can load as many bullets into me as you like,” Hosea spits back in return. At the moment, the bullets sound preferable to another minute of listening to a grown man whine. He picks off Dutch's hand and moves it to his thigh, figuring it'd be better to squeeze anyway, and squeeze he does, God.
With Dutch's nails digging so hard he can feel each individual slice through his jeans, Hosea gets to work.
It's a quick job, made longer by the way Dutch keeps flinching away from him and swearing. Once it's reset, bone cracking under the slope of his fingers as Hosea draws them down, he takes off his own neckerchief and rips it into strips. One goes in either nostril, an action that makes Dutch audibly groan and draw away–
Hosea chases him with a kiss, holds him still with two hands, and swallows the pained grunt of protest Dutch emits when their noses bump.
“Hurts,” he whines against Hosea’s mouth.
“I know,” Hosea says, and kisses him again.
It's as good of an apology as Hosea will give, and Dutch takes it.
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"Do you think somebody could hear us?..."
"For fucking sure you rascal fuckers"
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ricky-mortis · 10 months ago
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They're the best of each other!
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sysig · 4 months ago
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Skelekinz (Patreon)
#Doodles#UT#Handplates#Webkinz#Gaster#Sans#Papyrus#Smol's a genius and I'm giving her at least a solid 50% of the inspiration credit on this one#Like I've already been in the mood of Webkinzifying others - there's more Helix stuff in the works I just aghldsjafskdlf#But then she tossed the idea of Gaster's blue hands being Buddies and agh gah what brilliance how quick on the draw#Lol#Really tho! Gaster's PSI being a Buddy - or like a Pet of the Month special or something - so cool! So clever!#And so the rest of it haha#Once again drawing his hands signing ''s'' and ''p'' :3c Who remembers my old vector of him still haha#And then also Void!Gaster! :D Looking much sadder haha his Happiness just never quite fills all the way nooo#Does momentarily when you give him a labcoat but then he just asks for something else to wear weh :'D#And obviously if he was Skele-kinz'd (hehe) then the boys had to be as well! ♥ Always deserve the cutes and sweets#Sans' is easy enough - there's no actual white turtleneck under blue jacket item but there Should be! It's so cute!#There is the Hotdog Buddy hehe - if you'll recalled Mini Mint who is currently cosplaying Sans has one :)#But there's no Spaghetti Buddy! Agh! So unfortunate#There is a Marshmallow Buddy tho :3 Which is pretty fun hehe#All this Sans rep gotta find a good Papyrus clothes and pet!#Had a good bit of fun imagining how they'd move around in rooms and such - there are bipedal pets! I think they walk funny haha#Sans would definitely always have his hands in his pockets outside of like emoting animations haha - little wave with his left hand <3#You could probably replace Gaster's clipboard prop with other things - the Halloween candy bucket comes to mind lol#And then some requests :D Papyrus would want spaghetti but of course his spaghetti is the very best (it's not)#But he'd still appreciate the comparison!#Gaster's requests would definitely be outlandish and impossible haha - or else to go to work and then to go to work again lol#You have to wait eight hours you workaholic skeleton you're not allowed! We Just Did! Haha
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ill-cypher · 17 days ago
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have an itty-bitty harrowhark
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xxplastic-cubexx · 10 months ago
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i would like to draw him more i think..
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kwillow · 1 year ago
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As an eligible young noble of no small fame, Ambroys had a number of arranged courtships and suitresses in his youth, but any nascent marriages always fell through.
It's not that he didn't try; he certainly knew how to court a lady (perhaps too well, according to many fathers and husbands), and when he lacked knowledge on the affairs of womens' hearts, he sought counsel from a young woman who was a dear friend of his (perhaps too much counsel, according to his own father). Nonetheless, all he garnered for his efforts was separation after separation.
Ah, well. Maybe it was for the best.
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