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#BUT I HAVEN’T DRAWN IN SO LONG CAN YOU BLAME ME??
ch3rie-pop · 6 months
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So I finally got my tablet back (and some motivation)
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And I decided to draw me (my sona) and my sons :3
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f1crecs · 4 months
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Fic Rec List - Charles/Max AUs
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On the Ice by @f1tyreslightmyfyre | T | 5.5k Max is a hockey player, and Charles is a figure skater! Cue a lot of teasing and romance. This was so cute!!! I absolutely loved the teasing and the dynamics between Charles and Max. So much fluff! It was also based off of an artwork in the community that everyone needs to see too!
'Max knows that he probably stares like a lovesick puppy, but who can blame him? “Am I dreaming?” He says by way of greeting. “Or is that you, pretty boy?” Charles doesn’t quite roll his eyes as he scoffs in amusement. “Yeah, of course, it’s me. Don’t cream your pants.” He skates in a lazy, easy circle around Max. “I know I’m irresistible, but I know you can do it.”'
nsfw: chemical (can't let go) by @alphatinies | E | 8k Max is in a club bathroom when suddenly, his rut hits. It turns out– his ex, Charles, is willing to help him through it. Even if they broke up 3 months ago. I really loved the A/B/O dynamics! It was a fantastic read and I love the raw dialogue and want that Max has for Charles. Nothing is ever really over!
'They broke up three months ago. Coming here is not only humiliating, but also stupid—they haven’t talked since the break-up, agreed on a clean cut, pretending not to know each other whenever their friend circles happen to cross paths. They’re mature about it. Mostly.'
all this happened, more or less by @lightningmickqueen | ? | 10.3k In lockdown, a popstar named Escalier Des Fleurs has taken storm. It turns out he's a familiar face: Charles Leclerc. And– he's singing about his crush, Max Verstappen. I loved this fic so much! It was one of my first fics I read when I was introduced to the F1 fandom. It's such an adorable story, and is very very VERY reminiscent of Hannah Montana. Read if you want a fluffy, angsty with a happy ending story!!!
'i am having the hardest time processing the fact that the ferrari strategy team cannot put together a strategy but charles leclerc can have two successful and unrelated careers #his team doesn’t know the weather #meanwhile charles is in the car writing a song in his head that will go on to be one of the best selling songs of all time #WITCHCRAFT'
Story of Our Lives by Eviestappen, footysel | G | 16.3k When Charles and Max meet when they are kids, they are both drawn to football. Charles' assists and Max's goals are teamwork at its best. But when Max has to move back to Belgium, they're torn apart. However, life throws them for a loop, and they are reunited again and again. I love a good childhood friends to lovers arc! Plus, this taught me so much about football terminology. It's literally Lestappen IRL but with football instead! Adorable must-read!
When the final whistle blew, they all collapsed onto their knees, shedding a few tears of happiness as they once again crowded the dutch boy. They sang cheers in his honor, hoisting him high up in the air during the trophy presentation.  For the first time in my life, it's all so clear. I feel calm like I belong. I'm so happy here. Just as it had been all season, Charles picked up the ‘star of the match’ award posing alongside Max, who had received the ‘player of the tournament’ trophy. The two young boys, predictably future stars, smiling like there was no tomorrow.
nsfw: noir désir by @alphatinies | E | 24k Max moves in with Charles and Pierre. Charles is an artist struggling with inspiration, which he happens to find in Max. There is a lot of longing in this fic which I love, it’s practically palpable. Charles especially struggles with his desire for max as he has a lot of history with Pierre. The mix of it being a character study and exploration, but also having good plot progression was absolutely amazing. One of my absolute favourites and made me feel many emotions. This fic is what AUS23 (1:1) sounds like.
'The desire hasn’t dissipated by the time they pull apart. Charles almost expects there to be a moment of clarity, to realise what he’s done—but that doesn’t come. When Max pulls away, Charles could still drown in his eyes, yearning to taste him again, and he does, leaning forward to press their mouths together. He kisses him eagerly, like he’s trying to prove a point—he wants this just as much as Max does, he can’t stop thinking about him in a way that he hopes is reciprocated, he wants him.'
glitch by @nyoomfruits | T | 26.5k Max is a webmaster at a fashion magazine, and an F1 fan. He has a meet-cute with driver Charles in the elevator at when Charles turns up for a photoshoot. It's love at first sight for Charles. I love an office romance and I guess this was half of one. Max is so not interested at first but Charles is charming and persistent-but-not-pushy and the developing relationship is sweet and unhurried. The fic deals with the realities of dating a famous person when you value privacy. The peanut gallery/Greek chorus provided by Daniel and Lando is hilarious and very in character.
'Daniel opens his mouth, presumably to say thank you, but then he looks at the coffee cup and frowns. “Uh,” he says, pointing at the cup and looking up at Max. “Where’s the rest of it?” Max pulls a face. “Soaking into the shirt of two time Formula One World Driver Champion Charles Leclerc.” “What,” Daniel says, as Lando pops his head over the divider with a gleeful look on his face. “Oh this sounds like it’s going to be good,” he says, as he catches the red bull can Max throws him one handed. “What happened?” Max sighs. “I ran into him in the elevator. Literally. Then I told him he was braking too early on turn 11 yesterday and that’s probably why he lost, and he just kept staring at me, so I kind of panicked, and got out of the elevator three floors too early.” “You are a gift to this earth,” Lando says, sighing delightedly as Daniel howls with laughter next to him. “Like who the fuck does that? Meets one of their favorite drivers and then tells them their braking is shit. Truly, only you. I’m so glad we are friends.” “Max, Maxy, never change,” Daniel says, trying to catch his breath. “God I wish I could have been there.” “You,” Max says, pointing between the two of them with his Red Bull can. “Both suck.” “What was he even doing here?” Lando asks, as Daniel wipes the tears from the corners of his eye. “No clue,” Max says, with a shrug. “Didn’t think to ask.” “Too busy insulting his braking,” Daniel says, sending himself off into another peel of laughter.'
no brakes on by @drivestraight | T | 32.5k Max is a Red Bull driver, but Charles is a (surprisingly good) actor. After a not-so-good meet-cute, they're suddenly drawn together after having to make amends for PR. I love AUs where half of a pair is still a driver yet the other doesn't have to do anything with racing at all! The fic deals with the perils of being famous and always in the spotlight while dealing with romance. And, Sebastian is still driving for Ferrari!
'Real. That’s—that’s a hard concept. For most of Max’s life, the past, the present, the future; what was in front of him and what was merely a dream he was running toward, they blended together. He spent seventeen years, even the years he can’t remember, working at his dream, then all of a sudden, it was his reality. Fast forward seven years he was a champion, everything he wanted to be but wasn’t sure if he would ever be. It’s just—everything has moved so fast. Max can’t tell real from unreal anymore. He wants to rest, wants to live in the moment, but the moment is—it keeps moving. It keeps escaping him. He isn’t sure where it is, isn’t sure where he is. What is real, what is not. Max feels like he could wake up one day, twelve years old again, strapped into his go-kart in pouring Holland rain, trying to find grip where there wasn’t, thinking of better things and a brighter future.'
nsfw: give me that fire by Lady_Something | E | 40k Chef!au, Max and Charles have history, but it doesn't stop Charles from coming to work as Max's new sous chef. Exes to lovers. To be honest working in a restaurant sounds like a nightmare but for some reason I love reading stories with this setting. This fic was an emotional rollercoaster in the best way, at times I was near tears and had completely given up on a happy ending but the lovely lady_something brought it all together in a both happy and realistic ending. If you like well written and delightfully flawed characters dealing with complicated relationships and grief, this is a fic for you! Trigger warning for death of a pet!
'“Charles, I just spent the last four years thinking I’d lost you forever. That I’d ruined not just the best relationship I would ever have, but the best friendship as well. If there is even the slightest chance that I can earn back enough of your trust for you to give me another chance, I will do whatever you want.” Charles chews on his bottom lip, his cheeks flushing beautifully. “That’s a lot of power to give somebody over you,” Charles says slowly, twisting the fork in his hand nervously. “I trust you,” Max answers immediately. “You probably shouldn’t,” he says softly. “I still haven’t forgiven you for not wanting me to go to Arthur.” Max wonders what Charles might make him do, if he were feeling vindictive. He’s never been on the receiving end of Charles’ pettiness, not really—except when he’d sabotaged Max’s serving to the Michelin Inspectors in Paris—but he’s seen it. When they were kids, he’d seen it a lot. He’d always thought it was funny, that Max had a reputation amongst their peers for being aggressive—but Max had always known that Charles was really the unhinged one between them.'
Of Shadow by racingline | M | 46k Charles Leclerc is a typical college student. Except, it turns out, none of what he knows is true: he's stuck in a universe where racing, his family, and the people he love don't exist. This is one of my all-time favorite magical realism fics! It's crazy, each chapter had me so hooked and wanting to know what happens next constantly. I loved it so much and the universe.
'Charles’ brain is still an echo of modena yellow and rosso corsa, the sounds of the factory and the smells of winter in Italy a vibrant flurry against the flat backdrop of his reality. He thinks of Maranello and Ferrari, the uneasy whine of Jules’ Renault when he revved the engine too high at every red light on the drive back to Monaco like each one was the start of a race. He thinks of the Academy–of Jules, who was the first one to be signed, and of himself, the first to make it all the way through. He thinks of the garage, more an artists’ studio than a factory. He thinks of Enzo and the son he lost too soon. He thinks, amo pensare che la Ferrari puo costruire piloti tanto quanto macchine, and he thinks, ask a child to draw a car and certainly he’ll draw it red. He thinks of mistaking the Italian anthem for that of his own country; he thinks of the scuderia in all its infallible, divine contradictions; its hopes and heartbreaks interlinked in an endless chain.'
nsfw: The Things You Do by loveleclerc | E | 71.9k Dutch mafia boss Max meets Charles in a strip club, where the latter formally works. After Charles decides to steal his wallet and go on a shopping spree, Max finds him, and lots of teasing ensues. Plus, Max is practically Charles' sugar daddy. This was genuinely so captivating and so hot. The plot was so insanely well-written and made me want to keep coming back! I read this on a plane ride and it made the time fly.
'“The quiet only lasted so long. Shouting in Italian and Dutch soon erupted from somewhere in the house along with gunfire that made Charles flinch, covering his ears while he squeezed his eyes shut. What the fuck had his life become?”'
nsfw: grapefruit mignonette by slapshots | E | 73.6k Max is an esteemed chef working under Christian Horner and Charles is an part-time server and architecture student. It turns out, tension does wonders for attracting the two together. So much food imagery! God, when I was reading this, I got so hungry. The descriptions were so lovely! And, I love any restaurant AUs. The characters were so funny and I loved their attitudes.
“Charles, this is our Executive Chef Max,” Christian said, picking up the fork and digging into it. “Charles just moved from –“ “France,” Max said. “Monaco,” Charles corrected. “Monaco is in France.” “I assure you, Chef, that Monaco is its own country.”
mr. invisible and the thing by @chubbydino | M | 97k A soulmate AU where Charles is a mechanic and Max is Daniel's agent. But– Max doesn't believe in soulmates, and Charles is struggling to cope. I love this fic so much! I reread the whole fic every update. Slow burn and soulmates are some of my favorite AUs and it's a fantastic read with some of the best writing in the fandom.
'Max hated the person his life had been mangled with. He referred to him as The Thing, because Max considered him more demon than anything else. Soulmates—he hated that term, but he had no other one to use in conversation—seemed awfully similar to demonic possession. The Thing certainly haunted him. The Thing seemed to like every kind of food Max hated. Every morning, Max tasted frothed milk and espresso when he woke up. Every morning, it made him gag. The Thing also liked French Onion soup during winter (palatable), mango in summer (chalky), and some vile kind of meat in the fall. The Thing lived in Europe somewhere, Max guessed. The Thing woke up at dawn and didn’t sleep until dark. The Thing’s schedule made it nearly impossible for Max to nap—and Max loved to nap. The Thing was also scared of cars. Max couldn’t describe how he knew, but the sound of a Formula 1 car always made him nervous the first time he heard it on race weekend, distant terror echoing in his bones. Further proof that the system was flawed—no soulmate of his would be scared of what he'd devoted his whole life to.'
thank you to @blueballsracing, @maaxverstappen, & @lydia-petze for compiling this list 💝
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that-gay-gal · 16 days
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I love changing my artstyle for no reason then immediately going back to normal after
Rambling under the cut bc no one cares about that
I haven’t drawn this guy in a while… that’s upsetting. I need to draw him more. He’s my son I can’t believe it’s been so long :[
I blame Knuckles. It’s his fault I’ve been obsessing over Sonic rn smh (can’t wait for the 3rd movie tho)
Anyway i really like drawing Raphie like this I think imma keep this way of drawing him :]
I now see the appeal of the giant ass bow it’s very fun to give him :3
Also more scars on Raph real⁉️ and no I did NOT forget the eye scars I give him in the second image ssshhhhhut up >:( /j
Y’all ever want to draw characters but have absolutely no clue what to draw them doing? That’s me with Raph rn WHY ARE IDEAS SO HARD
Pinterest, if you can hear me, please save me.
Anyway have a good day y’all!!
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randomyuu · 1 year
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A JJK GoYuu fancomic... of a fanfic (read right to left)
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You know… despite me getting into JJK fandom this year, I’ve never drawn any JJK characters. (cue me drawing 9 whole-ass comic pages-)
This wonderful fic is titled (you'll whisper, serpent tongue) what you fear you have become by @voxofthevoid​. This comic covers chapter 1 scenes.
Beware of the tags, as the fanfic is NSFW. Oh, and also, manga spoilers! Major character and arc spoilers! I’ve read until chapter 4 and no NSFW so far, but still, beware!
Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43446157/chapters/109219954
I hope you enjoy reading this comic and the fanfic if you decide to!
Update: Chapter 6 scene fanart
More of my random thoughts and an early drawing of GoYuu below:
Have I told you I’m not used to drawing manga as well? Manga panels are pain. PAIN, I tell you. I shouldn’t have done this, but I did. I did, because every time I read the synopsis of this fic I keep picturing manga-like scenes. You should blame me for reading those AllYuu doujinshis.
It was… interesting experience. I was struggling a bit with the balloon consistency, like, do I use white boxes or just italic words for thoughts? Or maybe a balloon with a cloud-like border?
And there’s GoYuu (YuuGo? Idk honestly, don’t care lol) themselves. As I said, I literally have never drawn JJK-related content before. So when I started thinking about the panelling, I realised that I don’t really know how to draw Gojo, even more a thousand-year-old Yuuji. A whole day is spent researching Gojo, Yuuji and Sukuna’s appearances lol. Sukuna’s markings are a problem since I can’t find a full view of his markings. I know I can just finally watch the anime (yes I haven’t watched the anime, only some short clips; yes I know the animation is good, and I really want to watch it but my brain doesn’t want to) or re-read the manga, but I don’t want to ∠( ᐛ 」∠)_
After going through Google images, Twitter and Reddit, I whipped up a front drawing of GoYuu as my reference:
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Gojo’s is easier because he hasn’t changed from the official (I blatantly eyeballing the character sheet I found haha), but Yuuji is different. Yuuji’s hair is longer; if I recall, there’s no exact description of his clothes. I assume he’s topless due to this description: Messy pink hair, long enough to cover the creature’s nape but not to hide the segmented dark markings running down his back, shifts in the wind.
And halfway through storyboarding, I realised that I have no experience using screen tones. Whatsoever. So off I go searching for a screentone bundle I can freely download and slowly figure my way out after fully lining the page.
And we haven’t even touched perspective, background, achromatic colouring, non-human characters—man, I really bite more than I can chew lmaooo
Ah, the things you would do to satiate that drawing mood ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ
Also, I hope I’ll have time to draw more fanarts of JJK GoYuu fanfics because they live rent-free in my brain and I need them to get out. Maybe other pairings as well? I like quite a lot of pairings that involve Yuuji. He’s precious, and I love having it shown to me over and over through fanfics.
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yuquinzel · 1 year
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— singularity.
feat. mikage reo. gn!reader. implied fwb. suggestive. i’d call this toxic. wanted to write reo in a new light. thank u user @fallenssun aka rosie for hyping me for this <3
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mikage reo resents you, that much, you are aware of.
maybe hate is too strong of a word. you are afraid to use it. resent rings the right way — the perfect adjective to explain his lasting glares, the twist of his lips followed by dismissive responses whenever you strike a conversation. you catch his eyes on you often, maybe looking for more reasons to abhor you. he doesn’t seem to hide it either, whenever you flash him a smile and he only scowls at you. curse him, he wears it dashingly.
but then again, for reo to resent you so much he can not stay in the same room as you must mean you have done something to be the subject of his bitterness.
that, is where you are clueless.
despite his resentment, reo is quite gentle with you. when he needs to be, at least.
is tragedy a strong word too? your relationship with reo resembles one strikingly. a bloody-eyed tragedy dressed as a daydream in which tongue and limbs entangle and fingers run through disheveled hair, thumbs trace the bruised skin of the other. your vision is blurred and memories are hazy when blinded by euphoria. you can taste nectar on reo’s lips. as much as he resents you, he can not deny you either.
which is why you are still in his life, you conclude. you wonder if you could ever have the power to ruin him like he does with you.
nagi seems to have a strange liking in stirring up the already uncomfortable atmosphere, “think i’m gonna go, ’m too tired. ’ts such a pain seeing you both act like nervous teenagers.”
reo pays him no mind, instead finding the empty ochoko in his hand more interesting. he traces a lazy finger on its outlines, breathing a sigh of content when he pours himself more of the saké the three of you had indulged in.
it had been nagi, who invited you. he did not tell you he would be companied by reo as well. you guess reo must’ve tried convincing him otherwise. but you know you’re just flattering yourself — reo does not think of you as often as delude yourself.
“nagi, shut up. you’re the one who asked me to come. it’s rude to leave after that.” you say with blush-stained cheeks and a slurred voice. you haven’t drunk much. but you have always been a lightweight. nagi had known that, you think.
“come with me, then.” reo stirs in his spot. nagi turns to him. as the snow-haired male speaks the next dragged and slow syllables, you feel reo’s eyes boring into you. in any other occasion, you would’ve pretended to ignore him and shrink in your spot further. but maybe the alcohol has settled in your system. you feel defiant under his gaze. “reo wouldn’t mind, will you?”
it takes countable, pathetic seconds for reo to respond. you would call it hesitation — the second reo steals for an answer, but you know better. “i am going to stay back for some time. you can leave if you want.” he wears an elegant smile, eyes set on you. it is something the poets would call enchanting. a long-drawn breath leaves you. reo’s eyes haven’t left you. not yet.
you know what he’s asking. he won’t verbalise it. you know him. you feel compelled to play along with him. he knows you. you don’t really give him this power over you. he just commands it like it has always been his.
“that so?” nagi waits for your answer.
which comes in the form of a hesitant nod, “i’m staying back too, i don’t wanna go home yet.” you mirror reo’s smile. he pretends to look away and take a sip of his drink.
“ah. can’t be helped. ’m leaving then.” the subtle stretch of lips on nagi’s face and the tone of his voice is a little teasing. one you’d call mocking if you couldn’t hear the fondness behind it.
a part of you feels betrayed. that nagi has left you alone here, fully aware of your shaky relationship with reo. the more braver part of you is thrilled. you blame the alcohol. reo has never initiated a normal time together besides the unassuming “7:30” texts followed by the address of some five-star luxury hotel he must frequent a lot.
you always tell yourself it will be the last time. you always end up going again.
you wonder if this unplanned business is the same one as well. you would be disappointed if so.
the silence that encompasses the quaint tatami room is oddly comforting. there is a faint glow of honey, its origin nothing but the paper lamps hung over the walls. you think the restaurant must’ve been reo’s choice.
“i did not try to convince him to not call you, if you are wondering.” reo begins, and you feel like a part of you — hidden somewhere deep within the confines of your secrets is scanned over and vulnerably exposed. “i was the one who asked him to call you.”
“ah. i didn’t assume anything.” you lie, for reasons you can’t pinpoint. you shouldn’t be drinking more than this, it would backfire later. but it’s a good distraction from being the centre of reo’s attention. it is unnerving. you are not supposed to enjoy it this much.
as if reo can see right through you, he lets a chuckle hum in the air. “i see. that’s good. i was afraid i gave that impression.”
you know he’s doing this on person. that’s just what he does. and you don’t really feel like entertaining his amusement tonight, “you didn’t. but i wouldn’t have come if i knew you asked for me.”
your words take him aback, you hope so. reo clears his throat. “mhm. that’s why i asked nagi to do so. i have something to say.”
“and it couldn’t be over texts?” you lie again, because it is easier than admitting you wanted to see him.
“it couldn’t be over texts.” he repeats. “i had to see you.”
maybe the alcohol was too strong. reo has never been a lightweight like you. and he does not give you the luxury to discern his words further.
“do you hate me?” he mutters after a bated breath.
“i wouldn’t want to see you if i did.”
your finger goes to rest on your lips, brushing a little over the slightly chapped skin. you don’t miss the way reo’s eyes follow your ministrations. you hadn’t expected yourself to answer so quickly, or at all. but it is almost as if it was scripted. like you had hoped for him to be the one in doubts and for once, you being the one who subjects him to your cruelty.
reo lets your words simmer in his mind, a ghost of a smile lingering on his lips. some phantom words slither through his teeth and rest on his tongue, tasting bittersweet and dangerously addictive.
it has always been like this with you. you have always made him like this.
“do you think i hate you?” he asks. you hold your breath.
“resent would be the right word. you resent me.”
reo sucks in a deep breath, you see yourself behind his eyes. it seemed to you as if he was in pain. you also know you are the cause of it. it is both solemn and exhilarating. you feel bad. but you really don’t.
then he smiles at you. one you have always thought charming and fake. “would you like to go on a walk with me?”
.
.
when nights ascends the city of tokyo, bringing along a rainshower of artificial lights reflecting on the damp asphalt, dwindling the city scrapers with stars and fluttering with the scent of cheap champagne and take-out food— it’s when the city truly comes alive.
reo and you walk side by side. it is a little cold, so reo has you wrapped in his coat. it has been quiet for moments, maybe he is giving you the time to prepare yourself.
“i’m sorry.” the sudden apology hits you like a train. you could not have expected it. your face contorts into something intangible. reo sees your confusion.
“...for what?” you ask when he does not elaborate. you figure he had waited for you to question it.
“for wanting you.”
a nervous breath makes it way past your lips, and you struggle to find it again. the air is knocked out of your lungs just like that, and your heart stalls and stutters in your chest. reo sense your tension. he knows only he is capable of this. he does not say anything about it. if he expects you to question him again, then you’re afraid the conversation will end here.
but then he continues, “i’m sorry for wanting you. and i’m sorry i made it your problem.”
“what? — what are you saying, reo—”
“you have always been the only thing i’ve wanted. so desperately.” this is where reo pauses, to look at you. the contrast to his words and the twist of his lips, paired with the knit between his brows — it’s dangerously charming. “you are also the only thing i’m not good at. it makes me resent you.”
hearing the words resent and you in the same sentence in reo’s voice, directed at you — it would’ve tore you apart, it would picked at your skin until you bleed and fire smokes your lungs. but it would be peaceful. you could accept it and eventually come to terms with it. however long that takes.
but right now, it only leaves you more conflicted. if reo intends to love you, then it is a torment in itself.
“i despise finding you in everything. even when i’m not looking for you. i thought my resentment would eventually overrule everything else. but it didn’t. i only want you more than i can deny. you are on my mind more than you should be — and all that is making me realise i don’t resent you after all.”
a faint glow of strawberries is dusted on reo’s cheeks. you can feel the head radiating off him. along with the scent of his expensive luxury cologne, one he has covered you in many times before. it seems like a lie. “i just resent wanting you when i know i should not.”
seconds seem melt into infinity. you think your thoughts are no less than your words. they are spoken the moment they come to mind. when you part your lips, the december winter of tokyo manifests as the condensed air with your words. reo feels the urge to brush his thumb over your flushed cheeks. something about the moment is making you seem oddly vulnerable. “if you love me, you do not love me in a way i understand.”
your voice comes hushed. reo tenses up. then you hear his chuckle. it does not make you look at him. it does not make him look away from you.
you know you should walk away. this is not good for your heart. it makes you sick. you should walk away and never look back.
but instead,
“will you teach me?”
you feel a sick urge to smile, as wide as you can when you see reo part his lips. a broken voice, nothing more than an incoherent blurb of sound, leaves his lips.
it seems reo and you are not much different.
“teach me, how to love you that way. the kind that is so intense, it becomes greater than love and manifests as resentment. the kind you are so afraid to show. let me see it.”
there is not much distance between reo’s fingers and the heat of your skin. not when he brushes them over the outlines of your jaw, and then the corner of your lips. the very spot your own finger has traced only moments prior.
“you will leave me.” he says, pressing his thumb a little harshly on your bottom lip.
“if i had plans on leaving,” you let yourself lean into his touch. reo seems to like that, “you wouldn’t have seen me tonight.”
“i am afraid of hurting you.” reo knows his voice is weak, uncharacteristic and in contrast to his usual charm. he can’t seem to hate it though. he reminds himself you have seen more vulnerable than this.
he knows you will probably see more of him than he ever has, when your lips brush against his thumb. he aches to make it last, but then you speak again. “of course you’ll hurt me. you already have. i can’t promise i will not hurt you either. but i have stayed. love is just a compromise between hurt and adoration. you should know only you could hurt me in ways i’d adore.”
reo closes his eyes. you watch the rise and fall of his shoulders. “i wanted to see you one last time today. because i’m leaving.”
reo lets his finger rest between the crease of you brows. he smooths it over with a subtle drag. he looks like a bittersweet teenage dream. when he smiles at you like that. you should’ve been at a loss for words. you can not ask him when, or where, how far, how close — you can not ask him anything. yet you find yourself speaking anyway. maybe to fill in the silence. “do you expect me to ask you to stay?”
at this, reo has to look away. it is the first time tonight he has actively avoided your eyes. “no, but if i do — if i stay, will i see you again? will you let me? not just in hotel rooms or dinners like these, but everywhere. i want to keep seeing you.”
it is weak, his voice. he seems to be at the mercy of your reactions. it’s a little odd. your heart shouldn’t skip a beat at this.
“i will.” you don’t say, instead letting your hand rest on top of his. the one that is still caressing the side of your face. “then see me.” you don’t demand, instead clutching onto his hand a little stronger.
reo seems to understand you anyway. he has been good at that.
so he lets his lips crash with yours. there is no hesitation, it’s brimming with fervent passion. reo steals your breaths, as if he’s never had enough of it. he has always been a little selfish when it came to you — but you like him like that, he knows. which is why when he pulls back — only because he was breathless — he would look at your lips, swollen and bruised. he relishes in seeing your flushed cheeks. your parted breaths.
he tells you he loves you. in this moment. and later when you’d find yourself in his room, on his bed, covered in his sheets that smell like him. after, when you wear his shirt that hangs loosely around your shoulders. and when he drops you home, when he bends down to place a kiss on the side of your neck.
mikage reo tells you he loves you. and if you believe him, then this time you have no one to blame but yourself.
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© yuquinzel2023 [ plagiarism is a violation of moral rights ! ]
unhealthy relationship based on physical attraction, which is mistaken for love. reo does not tell you he loves you, but you simply delude yourself into believing it. so when he does say it — you’re too in love to notice it doesn’t mean anything.
that’s what i was going for i mean but yeah ok. now back to characterizing reo right and writing fluff :> thanks for reading, cya !
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ellethespaceunicorn · 11 months
Text
Don’t Take My Sunshine Away, Part I
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Title: Don’t Take My Sunshine Away, Part I
Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI
Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Reader (Sunshine)
Fandom: The Gray Man
Word Count: 2.5K
Series Summary: You lived your life on a schedule. Everything is planned out from sunrise to sunset. But what happens when you go out on a limb and out of your comfort zone? Will it have dire consequences?
Chapter Summary: You’d agreed to meet someone from the internet and you find yourself tied up in a basement. 
Warnings: dark fic!, attempted mugging, drugging, abduction, suspension bondage, Murder Daddy™️, oral sex (m receiving), dub-con, non-con, unprotected p-in-v sex, knife play, biting, blood play
A/N: I had an idea about Lloyd Hansen. Here is that idea. I haven’t written for Chris Evans’ character since Steve Rogers pre-Infinity War so this was an exercise and a half! Also, many many many thanks to @peyton-warren and @raccoon-eyed-rebel for helping me entertain Lloyd and for helping me to not lose my mind whilst writing this. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 
Dividers by: @firefly-graphics 
Support/Reblog banner by me
Cover Art: by me
Spotify Playlist is here. 
Series Masterlist
My Masterlist
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It’s just your luck, honestly.
You were in the wrong place at the wrong time. The place was a dark street. The time was 9:03 pm.
Well, technically you could blame your Tinder date for this. He didn’t fucking show up and he didn’t respond to your texts or calls. Like he just disappeared off the face of the Earth. You ended up waiting for an hour and decided to just pay for your third cup of coffee and leave.
Luckily for you, the buses were still running and there was a stop just across the street from the diner. You climb off your stool at the counter and exit through a particularly noisy door. It alerts some guys down the street and they turn to look at you before turning back to each other. Your sigh of relief is reversed when you get across the street and hear one of them shouting at you before moving closer.
You check the bus schedule that hangs in the bus shelter. You only have to wait for five minutes for safety. 
What could go wrong?
“Hey baby, can I have your number?” The overwhelmingly strong skunky smell of bad weed hits your nasal passage and you gag. “Oh, what? I’m disgusting to you? Stuck up, bitch!”
“Look, I’m just trying to get home. I don’t want any trouble.” Your hand went to your pocket where you had your safety keychain on your keyring.
“Too fucking bad because you just landed yourself in trouble, cunt,” Three long strides and he has you in his grip, pulling you behind the bus shelter into the empty alleyway. He pushes you onto the wet pavement and is on top of you in seconds. He watches as you open your mouth to scream and he clamps a hand around your throat, cutting you off. “Who do you think is coming for you, unlucky bi–”
“What the fuck…hey!” A voice is coming from the street and getting closer.
Your attacker is being pulled off of you and it’s so dark in the alley that you can’t fully see who grabbed him. You see a dark blur and you hear sounds of a struggle before a strong pair of hands is helping you up. 
“Are you ok, Miss?” You’re being ushered down the alley to the only lit streetlight. The more you walk under its glow, you notice the man who saved you. Your eyes are drawn to the push broom on his lip first, then to his slicked-back hair, and finally to his dramatically-patterned polo and pastel chino pants.
“Yeah, I’m fine…I think. Thanks.” You reach out your hand to touch his where it lingers on your arm. He doesn’t attempt to remove his hand, even after you squeeze it with yours quickly.
“No problem, why don’t I take you home? My car’s just around the corner here.” He does attempt to pull you towards the street. You know better than to let anyone take you to a second location, so you put your hand up with a smile.
“That’s quite alright. I’ll just wait for the bus if you don’t mind.” You try and remove your arm from his hand but his grip on you gets tighter.
“Let me at least walk you back to the bus stop?”
“I’ll be fine, I promise.” You try to turn away and he pulls you closer to him.
“Why did you have to make this difficult, Sunshine?” His angry growl is quiet but no less intimidating.
“I’m sorry, wha–” You don’t get to finish as you feel a sharp prick in your bicep. Looking down, you see a syringe sticking out of your skin. You go to pull out the needle but darkness fades into your eyesight and you slip off into the void.
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You awake to a pounding in your head. Your arms are sore. Your legs are numb. And you can feel the stiff presence of duct tape over your mouth. Opening your eyes, you try to raise your hand to shield your eyes from the sudden brightness but you realize your arms and legs have been immobilized.
Looking around, you see that you’re suspended about three feet above the ground in some pretty elaborate rope bindings. Your wrists are crossed against your bare chest. Your left leg is being held up straight, while your right leg is only supported by two lengths of rope on your thigh, leaving your foot to dangle which means your pussy is on full display. 
You hear a door open and two sets of footsteps walk down the stairs. As the steps get closer, you hear two voices as well. 
“...didn’t have to punch me so fucking hard!”
“Yeah? Well maybe if you didn’t have your slimy hands all over my things, I wouldn’t have had to bruise your fucking spleen. Don’t be such a pussy, Dougherty!”
 “Fuck you, Hansen.”
“Don’t be sad I have a new plaything and you don’t.”
“Yeah. Just don’t wreck this one like that last girl.”
You struggle in the ropes and try and grunt loudly through the duct tape and the metal anchor that holds the rope loudly jostles. You pick your head up and look to your right as the men come into view.
As you recognize the man who had you on the ground, you couldn’t believe your eyes when you saw the geometric-patterned polo-wearing man who tried to “save” you. 
“I’m so glad you’re awake. I know you must have a lot of questions. But, you’re gonna listen first,” He walks until he can grab onto the ropes that hold you up. Looking down at you, he smiles sweetly. He begins to swing you toward him, letting go and watching as you swing back and forth, “Now, my name is Lloyd Hansen, but you are to call me Sir. You now belong to me. From every thought you have to every step you take. I own all of it. You may be wondering why I chose you of all people. Well, it had to be you, Sunshine. You’re the one.”
You are at his mercy as his hands grope at your tits and he pinches your nipples. You turn your head to look away but he just grabs you by the chin and makes you look at him.
“Now, Sunshine, you take what Sir gives you and you are appreciative. Trust me, this will all make sense later. But for now, I think it’s time I claim what’s mine.” He stalks over to your legs, standing between them. He places a kiss on your left ankle as he grabs at your right thigh. Pulling your core flush with his clothed hardness, you can feel exactly how excited he is to own you.
“I’d hate to interrupt, but–”
“But yet, you are interrupting. What?” Lloyd says as he trails kisses down your calf, his mustache tickling you as he moves.
“Well, I just…you said you would pay me. And I don’t really wanna stay around for whatever this is, honestly.” 
Lloyd finally turns his head to the other man in the room before patting your leg, “I’ll be right back, Sunshine. Don’t you go anywhere, ok?”
Fucking asshole.
Pulling out a wad of cash from his pocket, Lloyd starts counting bills, “So what do you say to…a hundred bucks?”
“I say fuck you if you think I’m taking less than half a yard. Shit, I didn’t even get to fu–”
The pop of a gunshot cuts through not only his sentence but also his left eye. You watch as Lloyd pockets the money and turns back to you with a smile.
“Fuck, ok. I didn’t plan on shooting him in front of you. But…well, I did,” He caresses your cheek before ripping off the tape from your mouth. He tilts his head and raises his eyebrows, expectantly waiting for you to speak.
“What do you want from me?” Your wrists hurt from struggling against the ropes.
“Oh, Sunshine. I want everything from you…eventually. But for now, I want to use your mouth.” He unbuttons and unzips his pants, “Those fucking lips of yours look so delectable.” He traces your bottom lip with his thumb and you debate biting it. Then, you remember the dead guy in the room.
Just comply. He won’t have to hurt you if you comply.
You clear your throat to get Lloyd to look at you. “Um…S-Sir?”
“Look at you calling me Sir already like a good girl,” He beams, looking down at you and holding your face in his murderous hand, “What do you want to ask me?”
“Are you going to kill me, Sir?” You couldn’t stop the fat tears from falling as you blink up at his face. You watched as his smile fell and he crouches to bring his face to your eye level.
“I would love to tell you that I won’t kill you, Sunshine. But it really all depends on you. If you don’t give me a reason to kill you, I won’t kill you. It’s as simple as that, Sunshine.”
You feel your eyes glaze over as you thought about what Lloyd had said. You didn’t want to give him a reason to kill you. You also know that there was no one coming to save you. You had no family, no friends, no roommates. You had lived a solitary life. 
The sound of Lloyd clearing his throat brought you back to reality.
“Use my mouth, Sir.” 
No sooner does the half-sultry half-terrified sentence leave your mouth, than Lloyd is reaching into his chinos to pull out his fat dick as he walks around you. You tilt your head back and are met with his impressive package. Eight inches of veiny length in your face suddenly is a lot to handle. As he strokes himself, he makes sure to keep it just out of reach. You hate yourself for licking your lips and following his hand with your eyes.
He positions his dick slightly over your mouth and squeezes his length from base to tip so that a dribble of pre-cum hits your lips. You snake your tongue out to taste him, the salty bitter taste you expect turns out to be almost sweet. Why couldn’t he just taste terrible?
“Open up, Sunshine.” He steps closer to you as you part your lips. He doesn’t stop pushing in until you feel his balls touch your nose. You close your lips around him and breathe through your nostrils. 
Inhaling deeply, you’re hit with the familiar scent of sweetness mixed with musk—sort of Earthy. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say it was African black soap. You knew the smell very well, you used the body wash every day.
“Fuuuuck, baby. Gonna fuck this throat.” He wraps his large hands around your throat as he pulls out slowly, leaving just the tip before he slams back in making you gag. 
He starts a steady rhythm and soon his balls are slapping you in the face. You can deny it all you want, but the way he fits perfectly in your mouth is obvious. The way your hands clench into fists and unclench denotes the urge to grab him and pull him deeper. 
One of his hands moves from your throat to your tits. Pinching your nipples and groping the soft flesh must not be enough because soon he is slapping at your breasts, getting you to grunt around his dick. The groan that leaves him is so sinful, you wish you could squeeze your thighs together.
But you don’t have time to worry about that because Lloyd is pulling out of your mouth. A string of saliva connects you until he steps back. You try to follow him with your mouth but he’s out of reach too soon.
“Sir?” You don’t like the air of desperation in your voice when you speak. You watch as he moves to the other end of your body and you soon feel his hand roam from your thigh to your pussy.
In one swift motion, Lloyd is inside your cunt. With the grip his hands have on your hips, you know it’s going to hurt tomorrow. But, that’s a later problem because Sir is fucking you like he hates you. You should hate this, but you don’t. At least not yet.
“Fuck, Sunshine…knew your pussy was gonna feel good but DAMN!” 
You can’t help the slew of sounds that escapes your mouth as he fucks you. The last of which sort of sounded like “Hnnnngg”. You feel as if you are going to explode at any minute but a spike of fear hits you as you think about where Lloyd is going to finish. You’re not on birth control. The speed of his thrusts picks up and you can feel him swell inside you. Fuck it.
“Sir, cum with me!”
“Fuck fuck fuck fuuuuuuuuuuck…” Lloyd latches onto your stretched left leg with his teeth, leaving behind deep and angry bite marks as he empties inside you. Pulling out, he watches his spend leak from you, righting his pants.
You are in a state of bliss so deep that you barely register as Lloyd bites into your right thigh enough to break the skin in a few places. But you can feel the sting of his butterfly knife as it moves over your skin.  The letters “LH” well with blood on your leg as silent fat tears roll down your face.  
“Now you can wear my bite mark like the badge of honor that it is. And when that fades, you’ll still have my initials so you can be returned to me if you are ever lost. I don’t plan on losing you, so you better not plan on getting lost, Sunshine.”
“I don’t want to get lost, Sir. I like it here with you.” The tremble in your voice doesn’t hide your fear, and part of you doesn’t want it to. You want him to know he doesn’t have to worry about losing you somehow.
“Think you can behave for a bath and a meal? I’ll have to supervise the bath, of course. And we’d be eating together. Unless you like being hungry, in your own filth with my cum dripping out of you all night. What do you say?” Lloyd offers, the fingers of one hand ghosting over his initials on your thigh.
“Would I still have to be tied up, Sir?” So many questions you could have asked, but you picked this one. 
Maybe if your hands were free, you could…do what? Fight him? Pick a lock? 
No, just comply. You can do this. 
“You won’t be tied up, but I do have a gift for you upstairs. But you can only have it if you’re a good girl. Are you gonna be a good girl, Sunshine?” While he spoke, he dragged a fingernail from your thigh to your upper torso as he walked around your body to your head.
“I’ll be a good girl for you, Sir. I promise.” The words on your tongue felt both foreign and familiar. Almost like you weren’t afraid for him to hurt you. 
You were afraid that he wouldn’t. And that scared you more than anything. 
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Part II
A/N: There will be more of this. I’ve never written for Lloyd before but I enjoyed him as the little devil on my shoulder.
@raccoon-eyed-rebel @peyton-warren
If you would like to be tagged in the next installment, lemme know 🫣
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maximoff-pan · 2 years
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how about eddie giving steve shit for not telling the reader how he feels for her while they’re traipsing through the upside down???
traipsing through the upside down — oh my, I love that…
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 1.1k
warning(s): none really, unless you count the upside down as a warning...
quick a/n: this is a really short, unedited, and pretty messy little blurb that I’m posting because I haven’t posted anything in a little bit...but I’m not super happy with it. Anyway, I hope you enjoy and expect better things (and by better, I mean, less jumbled and makes more sense) from me coming soon :)
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“You’re staring Harrington,” Steve doesn’t need to see Eddie’s face to know that he’s grinning. The singing tone of his voice gives that all away. “Again.”
Amber orbs meet similar dark brown ones. “You wish.” Steve hits back, even though he knows it’s true. 
He was staring, he has been for the last several minutes. But it’s not like anyone here blames him. They all know how distracting you can be, how intoxicating you are to him. Like a moth drawn to a flame, Steve cannot help how often his gaze wanders to you. 
At this point, Eddie’s and Robin’s voices have become like static to him, barely registering in his mind. He’s failing to hear most of what they’re saying, picking up bits and pieces of their well directed jibes. And while Steve is more than aware that they’re talking about him, making fun of him even, your sweet voice is just too distracting for him to care about much of anything else. 
As he loses his focus again, Steve feels his posture slump. His feet ache as he carries his weight through the tumultuous terrain that is the upside down. For a moment, he’d forgotten where he was, forgotten just how much pain he was in. The throbbing feeling that rips through his back serves as a poignant reminder though, his body nearly collapsing at the anguish. 
If he’s being honest, Steve’s never felt pain like this before. It hurts to focus on anything other than you. Then again, you’ve always been easy to think about, thoughts of you never straying too far from the forefront of his mind.
That’s why he continuously finds his eyes drifting a few paces in front of him, where you and Nancy are talking in hushed whispers, smiles crinkling the sides of your eyes.
Steve can’t hear what you’re saying, but whatever it is, you’ve made Nancy laugh, loudly and genuinely. And while they may not have been the right fit for each other, if there’s anything Steve knows about Nancy, it’s that he’s always been able to tell when she’s faking her laughter. And this one is real, pure and raw.
But it’s not a surprise to him. For as long as he’s known you, you’ve had this innate ability to make people feel safe, make everyone around you comfortable in the moments when they should least find themselves feeling so. It’s honestly never failed to amaze him how you can find happiness in the darkest of moments. With everything going on around you, Vecna being at the forefront of the many terrifying traumas you’ve all had to deal with over the passed couple of years, somehow you’re still smiling.
And boy, is your smile mesmerizing...
Steve sighs to himself as his thoughts are broken by a high pitched and obnoxious hum from the teen beside him. It’s like this mix between a low groan and a squirrelly squeal, the hairs on the back of his neck raising at the sound.
“C’mon man,” Eddie’s whine drags ever so slowly that Steve thinks it might never end. And it feels like it, truly; it’s agonizingly querulous.
But then, like he’s read his mind, Eddie’s harping on again, and Steve almost wants to punt himself across the face, (let alone Eddie), to put himself out of this misery.
“I’m fucking dying over here,” Eddie continues, gesturing wildly to himself as his mop of crazed curls flies with him. He’s fed up with this game of will they, won’t they. “I wish you’d just open your eyes dumbass.”
And I wish you’d just shut the fuck up, Steve thinks but doesn’t say, because while (for the moment) Eddie is annoying the living shit out of him, Steve knows he means well. He knows he’s just poking fun, trying to distract everyone from the fate that currently awaits you all, but he can’t help but want to slap the Hell Fire club’s infamous leader.
God knows Eddie deserves it, but he bites his tongue.
Instead, Steve merely rolls his eyes in response, tone snarky. “They already are, idiot.” He echos.
Robin huffs from beside the two teens, her feet dragging with every step. “Steve, that’s not what he—”
Steve cuts her off with the flick of his hand. They’re testing his patience right now. “I know Robin,” the demobat bites on his chest and back are really starting to burn, the adrenaline wearing off. “I know that’s not what he meant.”
Trudging through the upside down, after nearly drowning and having been attacked by monstrous bats is not exactly where Steve imagined he’d be at the moment. Nor had any of you really.
But all of that, on top of being interrogated, and poked and prodded by Eddie fucking Munson about his feelings for you, all while facing life and death, that takes the cherry on the cake.
Normally, Steve wouldn’t bat an eye. He’s used to the teasing, very much accustomed to being told how blindly in love with you he is, and having each of his (and your) friends point that out to him. But right now, it hurts him to be reminded of it. Because he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get the chance to tell you.
And not just tell you on a whim because he thinks either of you won’t make it out of this. That wouldn’t be fair. He wants it to be right, wants to give you time to respond, to feel it through. Time, he’s not sure he has.
“If you’re not going to tell her,” Eddie’s voice chimes in once again, “at least do me one favour.”
Steve nods sceptically, eyes narrowing slightly. “One, Munson.” He agrees for the moment.
“If you’re not going to get your shit together,” Eddie rasps with a smirk on his face, “then for the love of god, stop fucking staring at her. It’s starting to get a little creepy.”
“Starting?” Robin jokes in response, elbowing Steve in the ribcage.
Steve winces at the contact, nearly unable to respond. But as he catches another quick glimpse of you, smile lighting up your face, he grins back winded.
Echoing his words from earlier, his tone light this time, his lips pull together. “You fucking wish.”
Well, Steve thinks watching the looks of surprise cross their faces, if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.
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nellasbookplanet · 2 months
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Okay I've talked about the tragedy of Laudna now let's talk about the tragedy of Imogen.
It’s been a while, but her moment in the Feywild truth exercise where she says "I think I’m tainted. I don’t know if I want to save gods that don’t love me" has really stuck in my mind. The thing is, I don’t think she’s specifically talking about the gods here, but rather summing up and projecting her entire experience as a ruidusborn. She isn’t thinking "Why aren’t I the gods' special little princess? Why haven’t they come to save me specifically?? You better love me or I'll let you die" (which we have seen does seem to be a common attitude in the Vanguard) This is her fear of being against her own will tainted by something evil. Her fear that, despite knowing how wrong it is, part of her longs for the power and belonging that comes with giving in to Predathos. It’s knowing that this thing is the antithesis of the gods, and that no matter what she does and how much she opposes it, it is still part of her. And because of that, the world doesn’t love her. Her mother left, her father can barely look at her, her own body will betray her with feelings and powers she doesn't understand, her community ostracized her, her allies view her with suspicion, the gods will not lend a hand in their own rescue when she asks despite Imogen putting herself and her loved ones in danger for their sake.
And Imogen is tired. Tired of being the bigger person, tired of resisting. Logically she knows the gods don’t hate her specifically but it ads up, and as the lure of Predathos does promise love and belonging part of her wants to give in because why should she risk so much to save a world that has never once tried to save her.
And that’s where she, as well as Laudna, get so interesting. They have deeply sympathetic reasons for their doubts and flaws, as well as for why they value each other so much higher than the entirety of Exandria (tl;dr because they have only ever gotten genuine understanding and unconditional love from each other). But that doesn’t mean it isn't flaws. It doesn’t mean Imogen, if she hadn’t met Laudna and the Hells first and realized the harm the Vanguard is causing and that their promises are ultimately lies, couldn’t have been drawn in by the Vanguard's ideas. It doesn’t mean they aren't wrong in blaming gods for bad things in their own lives, or in demanding special treatment. But it’s deeply understandable, which is the very reason they and people like them're such excellent targets for the Vanguard to convert. And once in the Vanguard, it doesn’t matter how tragic and sympathetic you are, you are still doing evil.
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vamossainz55 · 1 year
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❛ what, am i not allowed to look at you? ❜ + daniel oh my GOD
a/n: this could've gone a million ways but was in the mood for writing something soft, enjoy &lt;3
summary: you're sick; daniel takes care of you.
In sickness (& in health,) - (dr3)
The sudden feeling of a cold hand on your forehead surprises you, taking you out of your dazed state. Your eyes open to meet Daniel’s brown ones, pooling with concern as he scans over your features. 
“How did you get in?” Your voice hitches, the itch in your throat taking over as you hide your face into your arm to let out a cough. The throbbing of your head worsens and you try your best to sink further into the bed. Every muscle in your body aches, begging you not to move but you scoot over just a little bit when Daniel sits on the side of the bed. 
“You gave me your room key,” Daniel reminds you, holding up the card between his two fingers for you to see. He ignores the little sigh you let out, setting the card on the bedside table before resting his hands on his lap. 
“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick? I could’ve dropped by sooner.” Daniel says and you roll your eyes at his words. Your relationship with Daniel was beyond complicated: from colleagues, to friends, to something else, it was difficult to see where the line was sometimes drawn. Sure, none of you were seeing other people, but you would prefer to blame it on all the traveling. 
“You’re too busy for me to be bothering you with this,” You murmur (which is a weak excuse really, because Daniel just rolls his eyes). You both knew he would be ready to drop most things for you, whether any of you would admit it or not. 
There’s a bit of guilt that pools in your stomach, because Daniel had been reaching out since you had last seen him on the track. You had already not been feeling your best that day and canceled on him for the evening, just to wake up with a fever and a stuffy nose. Some people would say it was a good call. 
“How long have you been in this bed? Have you rested enough? Eaten?” He asks, fingers gently rubbing at your arm. To his displeasure you choose not to answer his questions, embarassed by how little you had actually been getting out of bed. Instead, you curl up to your side. 
“Come on,” you screw your eyes shut and pull the sheets tighter around yourself, wanting to tell Daniel to piss off when he pulls them off of you. You feel his hands gently snake under your side before you’re being hoisted up. 
“What are you doing?” You squirm as he carries you to the bathroom, carefully passing through the doorway. You’re too tired to fight too much so you sink into his arms almost instantly. He closes the toilet’s lid with his foot before he’s setting you down to sit there. 
“We’re gonna take a bath and then I’m ordering us room service and you’re gonna eat and then sleep.” Daniel murmurs, gently slipping his hands under the hem of your shirt. You shiver at how cold his hands feel against your skin, his fingers curl over the fabric before he’s pulling your shirt carefully off. 
You stop him before he can get too far, using your arms to hold your shirt down, hugging yourself tightly. You’re flushed red, both from the embarrassment and the fever you had been running with for hours. 
“Can you turn around?” You murmur, eyes bouncing away from Daniel’s. Unlike your usually cocky self, you're shy this time, voice meek. 
Daniel cocks his brow, slowly moving his hands away from your shirt. He keeps one of his hands on you though, gently rubbing at your arm in slow soothing motions that has your heart feeling sickeningly full. 
“What, am I not allowed to look at you?” It’s soft and teasing and you want to hit his shoulder for doing so in your feeble state. It pulls something in your chest that you would rather deny. “It’s not like I haven’t seen all of you before,” He murmurs, thumb reaching to rub at your cheek. 
“It’s different, I’m sick.” You say, leaning back when he comes close to face you, noses almost touching. 
“Sh, I don’t care. Now let me take care of you.” He says before he’s slipping your shirt off. 
Your back presses against Daniel’s chest the moment you get into the bathtub. Despite your complaints Daniel had still managed to convince you that taking a bath together would be the best idea. He slowly traces your skin with his touches before gently cupping water to let it flow down your arm. 
“Feel better?” He whispers as he rests his chin on your shoulder. His stubble tickles your skin and his breath feels wet against your neck. You’re usually too stubborn to admit when you’re wrong, but this time even you can’t deny it. 
“Yeah, thank you.” You murmur, letting out a soft breath when his lips gently press against the back of your shoulder, the driver peppering kisses into your skin. 
The air feels heavy, and for a second you feel the world still. 
Sure, Daniel and you have showered together, had each other’s skin pressed against the other’s too, but somehow, you feel like you have never been this close before. 
He gently nibbles at your sweet spot, smiling when it sends a shiver down your spine. 
“Let’s get you back to bed, okay?” He murmurs. 
~
It's the day of the race that you finally feel good enough to go back on track. Daniel greets you with a little smile and wink when you arrive back at the garage. 
Nobody bats an eye, the rest of the team also greeting you with smiles and pats on the back. As soon as you spot Lando you give him a little wave, watching him walk over to you with a grin. 
“Thank god you’re back, was starting to worry that one of these millennials had to pick up our social media accounts,” Lando teases, earning a hearty laugh from you. 
“Come on, I would never let that happen.” You joke just as Daniel passes by you. His hand gently rests at your waist before he’s finding his place next to Lando. 
Daniel’s surprised you two had managed to keep it under wraps, especially from him, although he doesn’t notice the way Lando’s eyes bounce between you both. 
Lando doesn’t say anything though, because the little confirmation he needs comes neatly packaged to his doorstep the moment Daniel sneezes. He wouldn’t have thought anything of it, but your head had whipped so quickly to look at Daniel that Lando questions how you didn’t feel whiplash. 
He wants to give you both the benefit of the doubt but the moment you mouth at Daniel a quick sorry he is quick to put one and two together.
Fuck yeah, he thinks. Time to ask Max for his 50 quid.
298 notes · View notes
delacyrose224 · 1 year
Text
Strawberry Swing
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Pairing: Bang Chan x reader
Genre: Valentine's Day fluff
Word Count: .8k
Author's Note: I think this is the fastest I have ever put a fic together, and I am blaming it on Bang Chan brainrot. That's all. Oh, and the song of the day is Strawberry Swing by Coldplay!
------------------------------------
You pause, fingers clasped into a fist in front of the door. This was a good idea, right? Bringing Chan food…because it was late…because he’d been working…because it’s Valentine’s Day. Right?
You’d gone back and forth on the whole thing all day. Chan hadn’t told you happy valentine’s day, though you’d texted off and on for hours. It’s not a big deal, you think to yourself. We’ve only been dating a few months. Don’t look too much into it. Maybe he thinks it’s over-commercialized. Maybe he thinks it’s stupid. Maybe he hates the color pink?
Before you can get even more lost in your train of thought, the door in front of you swings open to reveal your boyfriend’s shocked face.
“What’re you doing here? It’s so late!” Chan’s face scrunches in worry looking you over.
You’re so surprised, all you can manage is holding the takeout in your hand towards him. He takes it gently from you, peeking inside.
“For me?” You nod dumbly. “Come in, come in!” He reaches around to the small of your back, guiding you inside his studio.
As you sit on the couch in the far corner of the room, you fidget with your hands. “Is this okay?” you ask.
“Is what okay? Bringing me food? Always.” A small smile dances across his lips as he looks at you fondly. You breathe a sigh of relief and grin.
“How long were you out there?” he asks. A chuckle escapes your lips.
“I don’t think you want to know. Or maybe I’m just keeping an air of mystery about me.”
“Do I still make you that nervous, babe?” Chan throws an overexaggerated wink your way, then barely dodges the pillow you throw at his head. “Hey!”
“You deserved that,” you chide.
“Okay, fine, fine. I’m glad you came by…I missed you.” He stands up, moving across the room to land a gentle kiss on your forehead.
“...what a simp.” It’s your turn to dodge as he dives onto the cushion beside you, grabbing the throw pillow and aiming for your side.
“Okay, okay! I surrender!” You throw your hands over your head, and Chan uses the opportunity to wrap his arms around you and draws you into his chest.
“That’s what I thought, menace.” He leans down, dropping a kiss on the side of your neck and you grow warm at the show of affection.
The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while, your eyes eventually starting to droop because of how late it is. 
“Hey, I thought you came to spend time with me!” Chan pouts, rubbing circles on your arm. “I haven’t even given you your gift yet.” 
“Hmm?” you murmur, still half asleep.
The hand that’s not wrapped around you fumbles beside the couch for a moment, until an envelope appears in your lap.
“What’s this?”
“Open and you’ll see,” Chan laughs. You sit up on the couch and open the pink envelope to see a card, handmade from the looks of it. There’s hearts drawn everywhere, filled in with silver glitter, and in the middle, a stick drawing of a man and a dog. You can’t help the giggle that escapes you as you flip to the inside, where Chan has written a message.
To My Valentine,
I am so very lucky to have met you. Though I haven’t known you for long, every moment we’ve spent together has been precious. You make every day brighter, and I can’t wait to spend many more months together. Gray or blue skies, we’ll face them together.
P.S. I love you Berry much!
Your face burns as you read the last sentence...you hadn’t told each other ‘I love you’ yet.
“Chan, did you make this?” 
“Yeah…I mean, it was Hyunjin’s idea to make you something, he said it would be more heartfelt and meaningful…but I made the thing! I got glitter everywhere.”
He shoves his hands in front of you, and sure enough, there’s specks of silver glitter that catch the light.
“You mean to tell me…you just were cuddling with me…with glitter on you?” He nods. “Which means it’s now on me. Which means it’s never coming off.”
“Um…I just wanted to give you a physical representation of how much I love you?” he offers.
“You love me?” Chan’s ears go pink at your question, but he nods firmly.
“I do love you. Berry much, as the card says. Get it? I drew Berry on the front!” He points at the front of the card, a huge grin on his face showing just how proud he is of his pun.
“Well, I guess we’re even…because I love you so matcha too.” 
Chan groans at your joke, but can’t help laughing as well as he pulls you back toward him, locking your lips together in a kiss.
“...guess we’re a perfect pear.”
“CHAN!”
—---------------------------------------------------
Taglist: @hyungieyoongi @alpacaparkaseok @derinxfam
Read more of my work here!
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gumnut-logic · 3 months
Text
Sweetapple Slices - Slice 2
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Sweetapple | Dear Mr Tracy | Along the way | Slice 1 | Slice 2
@idontknowreallywhy asked a question and I tried to answer it, but Alex and Virgil refused to behave, so we have a fic, but no answers. Also, fic is sugary sweet goop.
Oh, and it should be noted that all these Slices are standalone fics within the universe - consider them slices of life with these two :D
Many thanks to @onereyofstarlight for the read through. Again, I might need to offer her that dental plan. Also to @idontknowreallywhy for egging me on.
I hope you enjoy this romantic sugar fest.
-o-o-o-
“You know, isn’t all this stuff secret?” Alex gestured around him.
Virgil shrugged and tilted his head. “You looking to sell it to anyone?”
Alex’s eyes widened. “God, no! I wouldn’t-“
The rescue operative grabbed him by both arms. “Hey, I’m kidding. We know you wouldn’t do such a thing.”
Alex froze. “We?”
Those gorgeous biceps relaxed just a little. “You don’t think we let just anyone onto our Island, do you?” And he arched a lovely eyebrow.
“You have such beautiful eyebrows.”
Both suddenly shot up.
Oh, did he say that out loud?
Eh, blame it on the concussion…from a few days ago now. The Tracy family had shown no sign of needing to kick him, or his mum, off this amazing chunk of rock. Today Virgil was off rota and Thunderbird Two was set for regular maintenance, so he had been asked down here to ‘keep Virgil company’.
So far ‘maintenance’ had consisted of staring up at the great green Thunderbird, staring around her hanger, an extended session of smooching under her tail fin, and now he was sitting on the edge of Thunderbird Two’s co-pilot seat caught between stunned amazement and the percentage chance of another snoggy in the corner.
Any corner. There were at least four in the cockpit. Did that roof hatch open?
Honestly, he had never thought this would be his state of mind when he finally got to see all of this up close.
Of course, it wasn’t the first time he had been aboard Thunderbird Two. But last time had been sudden and unexpected and his brain had been fretting over so many things.
Now he was so happy he was likely to blow a blood vessel or something.
“Yours aren’t bad either.”
What? He scrolled the conversation back a little. Oh, eyebrows. Huh. “Never thought about them much. Yours, however, definitely require thorough consideration.” He reached up a hand, and hesitating for permission, brushed a finger the length of Virgil’s left eyebrow.
Chocolate eyes eyed him from beneath. “This is new.”
Be daring. “All of this is new.” He withdrew his hand.
“You have a point.” As if in revenge, Virgil reached up and brushed a tangle of Alex’s messy blond hair behind an ear. “I can definitely get used to it.”
He also had the most beautiful smile.
Okay, he had to stop this line of thought before he grabbed Virgil and really embarrassed himself.
“Um, yeah.” He gestured vaguely around the cockpit. “How long have you been flying Thunderbird Two?”
Virgil sat back a little and let go of Alex. “Nine years as her primary pilot. Took over from my Uncle in ‘55. Though there has been some downtime during that time.”
“And you keep her maintained?”
“Me and Brains.”
“Who’s Brains?”
Virgil’s lips twisted. “You haven’t met him yet.”
Oh.
“Don’t worry.” Virgil reached across the dash and flipped a few switches. “He tends to keep to himself. I’ll drag him out of his lab later.” His finger retreated to his jawline. “I think you’ll like him.”
“I will?”
“You’ll see.”
Okay, be mysterious.
“Would you like some coffee?”
Alex stared at him. “You’re really asking that question? Even after how many times I’ve managed to steal coffee off of you.”
Virgil smirked as he stood up. “It was really only once and you were very amusing.”
“Amusing!”
Virgil was laughing as he strode over to a corner of the cockpit, hit some buttons, and revealed the holy grail of all coffee.
Alex couldn’t help but stand up and be drawn to it. Virgil had given him the plans to this creation from heaven, but between Siliwrap and Virgil’s visits, he hadn’t managed to find time to finish putting it together yet.
Besides there was something about the coffee being handed to him by a visiting handsome rescue operative that was its own kind of addictive.
And Virgil always brought plenty.
His drug dealer of choice, apparently.
“Hey, you still with me?” A hand was on his arm and Alex realised he had been standing, staring at the holy grail like a stunned mullet just a little too long.
Virgil had that worried medical frown on his face again.
He had done that a lot over the last couple days.
The man had enough bruises on his arms and legs to pop Alex’s eyes out of their sockets - something about a roof almost falling on him during the Gisborne rescue. Yet Virgil brushed it off as a day-to-day thing.
He was ‘fine’, don’t you ‘worry’, happens ‘all the time’.
But the scattering of bruises Alex possessed, the headache that popped up every now and again, and any slight croakiness of his voice and Virgil was all over him with that yellow scanner thing.
Speaking of which…
Alex grabbed Virgil’s wrist gently as he attempted to wave a randomly appearing scanner over Alex’s head. “I’m okay, Virgil.”
The wrist in his hand relaxed and the yellow light switched off. A gentle tug and Alex let Virgil’s wrist go and the man turned away, stashing the gadget back into wherever it came from.
It was very obvious that Alex had scared him by being caught in the earthquake.
Alex took that extra step closer, slipped up behind, and slid his arms around the man’s chest, resting his chin on Virgil’s shoulder. “I’m okay.”
Heavy lifting arms wrapped around his. “I know.”
“You do realise you have brought me into the presence of the machine that makes your glorious coffee. I mean, I should be kneeling on the floor, bowing in reverence.” A smile. “Give me something to hold so I can drop it in amazement.”
Virgil chuckled. “I doubt you could pick me up.”
“Is that a challenge?”
Virgil twisted himself around in Alex’s arms until they were facing each other. “I could say that you already have, but that pun line is groan-worthy.”
Alex did groan, but then Virgil’s lips found his and he was suddenly very much distracted.
Yes, this corner would do nicely.
-o-o-o-
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miyagifangkai · 2 years
Text
Surprise, Surprise!
Tagged: @flowercrowns-goodvibes
Request: if possible could i request an eli x reader set in s5 with his post-hawk persona and after the championship and finding out reader is pregnant? and maybe like the ripple effect it would have on everyone else? honestly you can write whatever you’d like! thanks so much
Word Count: 1.6k
Warnings: Surprise pregnancy, talk
of born gender, angst!!!, cussing!!
Characters Involved: Reader, Hawk/Eli, Miguel, Demetri, Robby, mentions of Johnny and Carmen
Couple Pairing: Hawk/Eli x Reader
!!!THIS HAS NOT BEEN PROOFRED!!! forgive me!!!
A/N: hey! Thank you for the request! You’re always so sweet! 🥰 I hope you enjoy reading. I tweaked some things!
You stared down at the dreaded two lines on the test you had just taken. You were dumbfounded. You look up into the mirror and take in your tear stained cheeks and puffy eyes, “Holy shit,” you whisper to yourself.
You card your hands through your hair and take deep breath and look back down at the test. As your eyes begin to get comfortable you keep staring at your result and your mind wonders you start to think about how you’re going to tell your boyfriend, Eli, about this. You feel your heart rate start to rise. Eli was busy with other things in his life as well, he couldn’t focus on a baby right now. You two haven’t been together for a long time either maybe a couple of months. You had been best friends for years but didn’t make it official until recently. You couldn’t fathom to think about what he’s gonna say or his friends. You felt like they were going to judge you, you just knew it.
Eli had something going on today with his karate which you usually went to and supported him but you haven’t been showing up due to you feeling sick all of the time. You should’ve known since the first week with morning sickness that something was up. But you turned a blind eye and blamed it on something else. Eli started to question as well but you would always change the subject. C’mon, there was no way you were pregnant, right? Hah. Wrong.
You package the test back up to show Eli later. You weren’t sure if you were going to tell him tonight especially when he was at the championship but you had to tell him soon. You just weren’t ready to see his reaction yet. You didn’t think you’d ever be ready to see the look of sadness and regret that he was going to give you. You sigh.
You feel another tear roll down your cheek and you frown.
You decide to go to the championship to see him. You didn’t want to be left alone with your thoughts and the weight of the world on your shoulders for another minute. You get dressed out of your pajamas into something more decent. With shaky hands and another sigh you grab your car keys and decide to take the test as well.
You get in your car and sit there for a few minutes not sure if you wanted to do this; were you ready to ruin his night? Or what if he loses and he’s already down in the dumps and you just make it worse?
You facepalm and lay your head on the steering wheel, “Fuck,” you groan.
You lift your head of the steering wheel and adjust yourself in your seat and start your car.
You make it before Eli is about to take the mat. He spots you and immediately runs over to you his smile quickly dissipating noticing you obviously shaken exterior.
“Hey, what are you doing here? I thought you were sick,” he questions.
You decide to shake it off and feign a smile, “I started feeling better. I wanted to come see you.”
Eli gives you a perplexed look but lets it go, “Okay then. I’m next so–”
You grab his hand trying not shake too much, “Then go!” you smile.
Eli gives you a quick hug and runs back over to his Sensei’s. Miguel catches your eye because he was staring at you. You should’ve put makeup on before you came. You were pretty sure the puffy red eyes either made you look high or upset so you knew it would have drawn attention from others.
The fight was extremely intense especially with Eli getting hurt. You almost started crying again, you weren’t sure if it was the hormones but you kept your cool. But seeing Eli lose broke your heart. You knew it broke him too. He tried not to show too much emotion but you knew him too well. There was no way you could tell him now.
Afterwards Eli approached you and you two walked outside.
You couldn’t help but ask, “Are you okay?”
He nods his head, “Yeah. I guess so. Just disappointed in myself.”
“You shouldn’t be. You did great.”
“I lost.”
“That’s okay. You can’t win everything!”
He sighs, “Easy for you to say, you’re not the one who lost.”
“Eli–”
He looks at you quickly, “Let’s just drop it, okay?”
Your shoulders drop, “Okay.”
You wanted to tell him. You needed to tell him. He deserved to know. You couldn’t keep this from him forever. You can feel your body temperature start to rise from anxiety and your face starts to get red.
“Babe, are you okay?”
“Eli, I have something to tell you.”
Eli doesn’t break his gaze patiently waiting for you to talk.
You feel your hands start to shake and palms getting sweaty. You try not to look him in the eyes when you say, “I’m pregnant.”
Eli chuckles, “Yeah, right!”
He soon realizes that you weren’t laughing, “Y/N, come on. You’re joking, right?”
You lightly shake your head and reach in your purse for the test. You take it out and hand it to him and he takes it in his hands.
You see his eyes go wide as he almost starts hyperventilating.
“Eli–”
“Sorry, I’m just letting it sink in.”
You swallow thickly. You were waiting for him to drop the bomb. You were fully prepared to have your heart broken. How were you going to be able to take care of a baby on your own? So many questions and assumptions start chaoctically swirling through your mind. You expected the worst, as always.
He looks at you, “We can do this.”
You look in his eyes searching for any sign that he’s joking. You pay special attention to his body language as he talks.
“Really?”
He lets out a puff of air, “I mean, I think so. Are you wanting to keep it?”
You nod your head, “I was planning on it.”
Eli develops a small smile on his face, “Okay. Okay. This can’t be too bad, right?”
You shrug your shoulders with no answer for him.
“I’m gonna be a dad.”
You start to feel the tears in your eyes, “Yeah, you are!”
He gives you a hug and then separates from you, “We’ve gotta tell the others!”
You feel your anxiety creep back up in you. You still have nothing to say about that. You weren’t sure how they were going to react. You were so afraid that they were not going to see as their friend anymore.
“O–oh–okay, let’s go tell them then,” you pretend to be excited.
Eli grabs your hand and quickly runs inside with you tagging along behind him.
Eli and you join in the group and he interrupts their conversations, “Guys! We have news.”
You look up at Miguel and Demetri knowing that they and Eli were close and you were afraid of how they’d feel. Everyone looks at Eli furrowing their eyebrows from confusion.
“Y/N is pregnant!”
You see Demetri’s face drop from pure surprise. Miguel covered his mouth to hide his slack jaw but uncovered it and gained a smile. You looked at everyone else who were shocked to their cores.
“Do you want us to be excited?” Robby asks you two.
You and Eli look at each other and smile with you answering, “I think so! We are wanting to keep it!”
That’s when everyone breaks out with their excitement and all come in for a group hug. You didn’t expect this kind of reaction from them, especially when you were thinking of the worst.
Eventually it is just you, Eli, Miguel, and Demetri together.
Miguel asking, “So what’s gonna be the name?”
You laugh, I have no clue! I literally found out about it today!”
Demetri lifts his hand to his chest in shock, “No way! You need to find a good doctor so they can give you ultrasounds.”
Miguel hums, “Mhm. True!”
Demetri continues, “What if there’s something wrong? Or what if the baby isn’t healthy or somehting?”
You hear Eli chuckle, “Calm down, dude. I’m sure she’s fine.”
“But what if she’s–”
Miguel puts his hand up to silence Demetri’s babbling, “You and my mom should get in touch! She’s pregnant too.”
Eli looks at Miguel wide eyed, “No way. With Sensei?”
You almost laugh at the boys shocked faces while Miguel shakes his head.
You say, “Maybe I should. I do need to know the ins and outs.”
Demetri says, “That’s true. This your first pregnancy. Your body isn’t used to this. What if you start losing teeth or your hair? It happens a lot with pregnant women!”
You look at him, “How do you know so much about this?”
Demetri shrugs his shoulders, “Research.”
You all laugh at him and Miguel goes on about Carmen and Johnny hooking up with a grimace on his face.
After the whole detailed conversation Miguel asks, “Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?”
Eli, of course, wanted a son and you wanted a daughter.
Since the choice was a 50/50 split the boys started placing bets on what the gender would be making laugh.
You couldn’t believe how well everyone took the news. You also couldn’t believe how supportive Eli was. You were definitely expecting driving home with more tears and a dull ache in your chest. But that didn’t happen.
You and Eli were going to be parents. You couldn’t believe it.
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amaretigris · 6 months
Note
I noticed you haven’t done any one shots of Prince Eric in a while and I appreciate the Jonah one shots you’ve made but I was wondering that maybe you could make a one shot that has Prince Eric in it whether it either fluff or smut. It doesn’t matter to me with whatever you choose and you don’t have to do this request if you don’t want too, it’s just a suggestion that I have for you if you actually decide that you feel like doing a one shot for Prince Eric.
Hi sweets! 🥰 I always appreciate your requests; they give me the motivation to keep writing, so thank you 💖 This is a Modern AU idea I've had for Prince Eric for a while now. I hope you like it!
It is pure fluff but if you like it I could probably add a second part, smut included 😝 (Sorry it took me a couple days, work has been crazy.) Please enjoy! 🫶
⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅
Waves
1.8k words | Pure fluff
⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅
You had always been drawn to the water, for as long as you can remember. You started swimming at a young age and from that point on, it was rare to find you out of the pool. Your parents called you a fish in the water. Once you began competitive swimming, the rest was history. You won many championships and trophies, which eventually led to a scholarship at a university with a prestigious women’s swim team. You couldn’t be happier that all your hard work and time in the water had paid off.
Settling into your new life on campus for the past year was great. You’d made friends with fellow swimmers and classmates, but you generally kept to yourself. The Director of the Campus Recreation Office was a family friend, named Sebastian, who saw you a lot due to your strict swim schedule. You talked to him almost every day and you knew that he looked out for you and helped you where he could.
Walking into the Rec Center carrying your swim cap and goggles, you waved to the Locker Room attendant. He was also a swimmer and his friends called him Flounder.
“Good afternoon, Flounder,” you smiled.
Flounder’s face perked up as he looked away from his computer and met your eyes.
“Hey, (Y/N)! You ready to do your laps? You know we’re still going to race, right? I’ll show you who’s really a fish in the water,” he smirked.
You laughed at his playfulness. He was a freshman at the college and eager to prove his talent, but he always motivated you to do your best.
“Anytime, any day,” you teased as you poked your tongue out at him before turning into the locker room.
Smiling to yourself as you changed and put on your gear, you grabbed your towel and headed out to the pool. You saw Sebastian as you approached the pool, talking to another swimmer - most likely giving them pointers. You quietly set your towel down on the bench and slipped off your shoes to dive in.
Sebastian turned to you when he heard you splash in.
“(Y/N)! Good to see you, girl. How’s your father doing?”
You made a show of rolling your eyes before you answered.
“He’s good, Sebastian. Same as always. He makes sure I’m following my swim schedule, like he’s King Triton or something,” you joked.
Sebastian laughed.
“Well, you can’t blame him for that. He wants to see you succeed. And if he’s King Triton, you’re one of his mermaid daughters,” he mused, putting a finger to his chin in thought.
“True enough,” he decided.
“Listen, (Y/N), I’ve actually got a favor to ask you. When you get done here today, would you mind running across campus to pick up some gear from a student on the Varsity Sailing Team? He borrowed it last week and wants to return it, but he said he needs someone to help him carry it down here. You know how my schedule here is - I can’t leave during operating hours.”
You looked at Sebastian, confused, as you continued to tread water.
“What do you mean? He doesn’t have a friend to help him carry it down here?”
Sebastian shrugged.
“Ahh, doesn’t sound like it. I didn’t want to press the issue. He seems like a nice guy, I think he’s just a bit of a loner. Sound familiar?”
Sebastian looked at you pointedly. You rolled your eyes for real this time as you put your arms up on the lip of the pool.
“Why can’t Flounder do it?”
Sebastian scoffed.
“The kid is still pretty new and getting used to the campus. You’re a sophomore now, I figured you’d have an easier time finding it. C’mon kid, what’s the harm in talking to one new person?”
Sebastian put his hand out and lightly squeezed your swim cap. Deciding that you owed Sebastian enough to do him this one favor, you breathed a sigh of defeat.
“Ugh, fine. Just give me the dorm number.”
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Finishing your swim routine, you got dressed in the locker room and grabbed the dorm number from Flounder at the front desk on your way out. Looking down at the paper in your hand, you breathed another sigh. Your hair was wet and wavy from the water and you smelled like chlorine. You just wanted to get this over with as fast as possible; meeting new people wasn’t exactly your forte.
Walking up the stairs, you worked up your courage. This should only take 10 or 15 minutes. No big deal. Stopping at the room of the dorm, you looked down at the paper one last time before you folded it and slipped it in your pocket. You lightly knocked on the door. You waited for a second before the door swung open. Blinking your eyes, you realized that you were face to face with a man’s chest. Taking a step back and looking up, you were met with the brightest blue eyes you’d ever seen.
The dark-haired man in front of you was peering down with a smile, dimples dotting his cheeks.
“Hi. You must be the one Sebastian sent to help me tote this equipment back to the Rec Center. My name is Eric,” he said cheerfully, extending his hand forward for you to shake.
Hesitantly taking his hand and giving it a quick shake, you looked down at your feet.
“Hi. Yes, I’m here to help. My name is (Y/N).”
Noticing your demeanor, Eric stepped back and extended his arm for you to enter the room.
“Thank you. The equipment is just inside my door here. I’ll go get the rolling cart so that it’ll be easier for us, but we’ll still have to carry a few things. Sorry about this, I couldn’t exactly push the cart and carry everything by myself.”
Meeting his eyes again, you nodded as he walked past you and down the hall. How weird that he was trusting enough to leave you in his room, you thought. Shrugging to yourself, you stepped into the room and looked around. It was ocean themed, which was not exactly what you were expecting. But, then again, he was on the sailing team. Walking to his bookshelf, your finger skimmed the spines of books about sailing, navigation, and even a book on the constellations.
Turning to look in the corner, you started picking up the ring buoys and rescue boards. You soon heard Eric rolling the flatbed cart into the room. He smiled at you before loading the rescue boards onto the cart with the sail repair kit.
Eric pushed the full cart back out the door and turned to you.
“Are you ready? I think that’s everything. We can start wheeling this down.”
Nodding with your arms holding buoys, you followed him through the door and closed it behind you. The two of you rode the elevator down. Pushing the cart across the vast university courtyard, Eric looked to his side, at you.
“You look familiar. I feel like I’ve seen you around.”
He pursed his lips, thinking.
“Oh! You’re a swimmer, aren’t you? I’ve seen you at the Rec Center. You’re like a mermaid in the water,” he complimented, looking at you with a lop-sided grin.
You felt your cheeks flush as you cleared your throat.
“Thanks. Yeah, I’m a swimmer. I’m on a pretty strict routine so I’m at the Rec Center a lot.”
Nodding, Eric looked back at your hair.
“You’ve already been swimming today, huh? Your hair’s wet.”
You smiled, nodding at him.
“I think we’re a lot alike. I’ve always been drawn to the water. But sailing is different than swimming. I’m hopeless when I’m submerged,” he laughed.
Your curiosity peaked.
“You never took swimming lessons?”
Eric nodded his head and huffed a breath.
“Yes, I’m just terrible at it. I’ve seen you swim, you’re so comfortable and smooth in the water. I’m the opposite of that.”
Giggling, you shook your head, wondering how someone could be so uncomfortable in water.
“Well, if you ever need, I could give you lessons in my spare time.”
Eric looked at you with a smile plastered on his face, dimples on full display.
“Really? That would be wonderful. Thank you. And thank you again for your help with this stuff. I don’t really have anyone here that would be willing to help me like this.”
Smiling at him, you decided to ask another bold question.
“You don’t have guys on the sail team that would help?”
You heard Eric sigh, and you hoped you hadn’t probed too far.
“No,” he quietly spoke. “I love sailing, but the team is…different. We don’t have the same interests.”
You furrowed your brows and nodded. You understood that feeling. Finally reaching the other side of the expansive courtyard, Eric pushed the cart up the handicap ramp with you following behind him.
Walking up the sidewalk to the building, you reached some uneven pavement and tripped, throwing the buoys from your arms in an attempt to catch yourself. You felt a strong arm loop around your waist, pulling you upright.
You blinked and looked at Eric, feeling your cheeks heat up.
“Uh, thanks,” you squeaked.
Eric had abandoned the cart and placed both of his hands on your upper arms, looking you over for injuries.
“No problem, are you alright?”
You nodded, still in a daze. You felt like your skin was burning where he had touched you, even under your clothes. Eric helped you pick up the ring buoys, placed them carefully back in your arms, and returned to push the cart the remaining distance to the building.
You pushed the door open and Flounder’s face lit up when he saw you again.
“(Y/N), back so soon?”
You smiled at him as Eric rolled the equipment in.
“Ah, Eric! Thank you for returning this. Sebastian will be happy,” he smiled cheekily at Eric.
Following the two of them to the storage room, you set the buoys down on a shelf. The two guys were talking, and you saw your opportunity to take your leave. You made it down the hall and out the doors of the building before Eric ran to catch up with you.
“(Y/N)! Wait!”
Eric shouted as he jogged to the stairs to meet you.
“You left before I could thank you. I turned around and you were gone. It’s like someone has to nail your fins to the floor,” he teased.
You looked at him with an amused smile.
“Sorry, but you’ve already thanked me. Several times, in fact,” you teased right back.
Rubbing his neck sheepishly, Eric seemed a little nervous.
“A-Actually, I was going to ask for your number. You know, for those swimming lessons you offered.”
You smiled and held your hand out. Blinking at you and looking down at your hand, the realization hit Eric, and he pulled out his phone to hand it over. You saw him run a hand through his black curls. You smiled, putting your number in his phone, with the mermaid emoji next to your name. When you handed it back to him, Eric looked at his phone and smiled.
“Thanks. My little mermaid.”
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callsign-relic · 3 months
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Erm uuuuuuh favorite skylander and why :D
THEGWIWHQUWHWIQBQ HELLO???? A SKYLANDERS ASK????? I DIDNT EXPECT THIS AUQIQJIQHWUS THANK YOU GATOR
SO UHHHH HERE WE GO I GUESS 😀
Putting this under a cut since it ended up being longer than I expected it to be HAHA
SO. My TOP favorite is Fiesta :)
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LIKE LOOK AT HIM HE’S SO ADORABLE 😭 and oh my god in the Superchargers game some characters have exclusive little quests where you can HEAR THEM SPEAK WHEN THEY OTHERWISE DONT IN GAME (outside of like battle voice clips haha) AND GOD HE’S SO NICE AND ADORABLE WHEN HE SPEAKS 😭😭😭 (link to the quest in case you wanna hear him hahaha) he’s a polite mariachi man and his voice is so cute he has an accent and ugh I just love him. I even bought one of the comics featuring him, he’s just so cute and nice 😭😭
on my old laptop I had a big rendered drawing I was making of him even but that laptop broke and that art is since lost to time 🥲 but maybe I’ll redraw it one day hahaha.
I’ll dare even say it… I was so enamored with this man back during my big brainrot days I once imagined g/t scenarios with him 🧎 LIKE A GIANT POLITE SKELETON MAN WHAT MORE COULD YOU ASK FOR???? I only feel okay admitting this since you’re the one who asked Gator AHAHEJWHWH I know you’ll understand
~~~
My second top favorite is, as I’ve mentioned before, Freeze Blade!!!
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Now I know what you might be thinking. “Relic what in the Sly Cooper furry shit is this”. And you know what you’re right!!! You’re totally right. But LISTEN TO ME. WATCH THIS SHORT. WATCH THAT SHORT!!! And you will understand.
Like I said before I think Freeze Blade was the birth of my love for confident/cocky yet well meaning asshole characters 🧎 he’s ofc not really a bitch he’s actually really nice but like I said he lead me down the path 😭 his voice is so unique I really like it and I ADORE how he’s animated in that short. We need more content featuring him fr
I actually did end up drawing him not too long ago but I didnt share it here since I didnt think it would get much attention agahagdha
~~~
And if I’m doing a top 3 I’ll also mention my final personal favorite, Swarm <33
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Listen to me. I am talking directly into your ear now. Read this backstory. Read this fucking backstory and tell me this does not SCREAM “g/t scenario”.
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HE IS LITERALLY FROM THE GIANTS GAME SO OFC HIS BACKSTORY INCLUDES HIM BEING GIANT DUH YES BUT. COME THE FUCK ON. TELL ME YOU WOULDN’T WANT TO COMFORT THIS MAN AND MAKE HIM FEEL LOVED DESPITE HIS SIZE.
Also he has an accent too which I love teehee. I haven’t drawn him but god I should… I want him to interact with the other Skylanders who to him are just so cute and teensy and be playful with them while also being so careful with them. I need him to interact with tinies. I JUST NEED HIM TO
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Great now I’m imagining g/t scenarios with him I blame you Gator SHHSHEHE
But!!! That’s basically it! Oh some honorable mentions for some other faves would be Roller Brawl and Nightfall, but I don’t have any particular strong feelings for them outside of that I really really like their designs. TBH also Dive Clops surprisingly? But that’s cause in the comic I got featuring Fiesta, there was a 2nd comic in it featuring Dive Clops where it was a really cute scenario where he got stuck and had to rely on his older brother Eye Brawl (who’s also a Giants character ehehhehe) to rescue him and the dialogue between them is so heartwarming and sweet. But yeah!!!
Thank you for letting me ramble about this silly game series :D
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phleb0tomist · 3 months
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I was wondering what the diagnosis process looked like for you in regards to me/cfs? What tests were done? (Only asking because I suspect I may have it, however my general doctor got my blood drawn (even though there are no known tests to diagnose cfs/me), and tests results came back normal. They blamed it on my medications, but I've been experiencing the symptoms way before I took the medications.)
Now I'm having to call and ask them what I'm supposed to do, since I'm struggling.
Have you struggled getting an evaluation?
How did you make others believe and advocate for you?
Not forced to answer at all btw!
hello there. i’m sorry you’ve been struggling and that your healthcare has been lacklustre! this post is going to be long so strap in <3
the diagnosis process varies from doctor to doctor. tbh many doctors are reluctant to consider ME even if it’s a severe case or a very classic case because they generally aren’t taught how to recognise it. it can be helpful to send your doctor links to official resources so they have a framework for helping you. if i were you, I’d look up the official guidelines for suspecting ME/CFS in your country and either send a link to your doctor or print them out. most doctors i meet will admit to my face that they haven’t read the guidelines for ME, so basically they’re not informed on suspecting, diagnosing, or treating it. in the UK where I live, the NICE guidelines explain the steps that should be taken if ME is suspected.
ME/CFS is a diagnosis of exclusion, so basically they do standard tests (like blood tests) first to make sure your symptoms aren’t caused by any other condition. once they’ve ruled out other causes, they see if you meet the ME/CFS criteria they use in your area. (in theory, diagnosis should take 3-6 months, but a lot of docs take a ‘wait and see’ approach instead, which can sometimes last years. personally i don’t think a ‘wait and see’ approach is appropriate, especially if you’re young. you may have to be assertive and ask multiple times to be evaluated. bear in mind it’s the system failing, not you.) the way they decide if you meet the criteria is by discussing your symptom history, which might take a few appointments. the best way to advocate for yourself is to bring another person to back you up (sorry to say this but statistically, it helps if it’s a male family member), to have a list of your symptoms and a timeline written down, and to be clear about the practical ways that your symptoms impact your life. i.e. “it takes me (x amount of time) to recover from going on a short walk. this symptom gets worse (x amount of time) after i do a particular activity and lasts (x days). i can no longer do x activity at all because of my symptoms. I’ve tried x y and z and it hasn’t improved my symptoms. I want to get my quality of life back.”
I don’t remember my diagnosis process very well. i had major symptoms for several years before ME was even considered, i was repeatedly brushed off and told my symptoms were from my autism even though that doesn’t add up. interestingly i was given treatments before I had a diagnosis. then i had a ‘working diagnosis’ of ME in my teens, which is where they think you probably have something but they don’t put it in your file till they’re sure. i’ve had a proper diagnosis on my file for years now, but i don’t know when it got there or who put it there. (??) the diagnosis process can be kinda weird. mine took forever but i know other people who were diagnosed quickly and efficiently, so it’s not impossible.
personally i had a lot of random tests, blood tests to CT scans to x rays, basically any test that was related to my symptoms (like a head MRI for headaches). i do actually have other conditions which show up on tests (like scoliosis), but since scoliosis cannot possibly be causing my specific pattern of exertion-related symptoms, i still got diagnosed with ME. having another condition or having medication side effects does not mean you can’t also have ME! especially if your symptoms started before you took the meds, like you said.
i feel like i’ve rambled enough. i hope this was helpful. if you have any more questions please send another ask and I’ll try my best to answer!
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camodielsart · 5 months
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Hello Duke of Hell,
Do you feel like you experience hyperfixations differently now compared to how you did when you were younger? can you describe the difference?
I certainly feel a difference myself, new fandoms and interests just don't rot my brain as all consumingly or as long as they used too
It's not a bad change, but I find myself missing it. There was a comfort to being consumed, absorbed, engrossed, to being lost completely in an idea. It was a powerful drug. One of the few parts of myself I thought I'd never be at risk of losings.
If you have experienced this deterioration, how has it affected your art and writing?
sincerely,
Anonymous
i still get super hyper fixated on media, mainly cuz of psychological stuff (not gonna get personal but yeah) so a certain media will just consume my attention at that moment in time. sometimes it’s for a few months, sometimes it’s for years. and sometimes it comes and go (like blue exorcist, my current hyper fixation haha).
idk if it’s different from when i was younger tho, i try not go around talking about my interests cuz i used to be that kid in middle school/high school that would never shut up about his favorite show and annoy everyone. and also get bullied for it as well (i got bullied for pokémon, like when it was popular, ?????). so i just don’t talk about my hyper fixations as much cuz of that. which in turn has made it harder for me to express my ideas on my favorite media so i have trouble getting involved in communities. also fandoms tend to scare me. i lived through some bad fandoms in my younger days online. so yeah.
and i do miss the old days were i would just go on and on about my favorite show/anime or manga. i would draw fan art and fan ocs all the time and post them online. i have been trying to watch/read new stuff in general cuz i know it would help with not only inspiration but motivation as well. and i haven’t made fan ocs for a long time (besides the welcome home one which i haven’t drawn for a bit). i definitely think of some, just seldom draw them. i want to do that stuff again, too. like you said, there’s a comfort to it. but i get nervous. not so much of being cringe, but more so, why would ppl care to see my oc. most ppl want to see the established characters in fan art. which i don’t blame them. that’s why they like media, it’s cuz of the characters. idk my deterioration is more so self inflicted from being outcasted and fear of drama and not really something that went away naturally cuz i still do get super consumed by it, i just hide it now.
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