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#love you bye
hauntedhokage · 8 months
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laundry day
Eijiro Kirishima/Fem!Reader 
word count: 2k
summary: Laundry day was one of his favorite days of the week for a few reasons. A broken washing machine in your apartment requiring a trip to a laundromat wasn’t going to ruin that for him.
warnings: public sex, fingering, needy!Kiri, references to past (probably painful) quirk mishaps, unprotected sex, Kirishima is a talker 
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“Why don’t you sort your clothes?” you grumble, sifting through the laundry bag he carried in to see if there were any more white shirts hiding in there. You’d already found three, you were certain there’d be more. There was always one more. 
“Why is it now a problem?” he asks from where he sits atop one of the folding tables, watching as he was told while you load the washing machines. “Didn’t care last week.”
“Last week the washer wasn’t broken on laundry day.”
“So?”
“So at home I can just throw the next shirt I find into the machine. Here the door locks when it starts washing so I can’t do that and I’d like to protect your white clothes while not paying extra to wash them.”
“If these,” he lifts a pair of your red panties and swings them around his finger, “turn one of my shirts pink, then I’m not complaining. It’ll probably remind me of your p-”
“Stop right there.” 
“I was gonna say panties, before you get yours in a bunch.” The teasing only has you slamming the washer door shut, rolling your eyes as he laughs while slingshotting your panties into the other machine that already had some of his clothes in it. “Relax, baby, it’s laundry day!”
“Not as fun when we’re not at home, Eijiro.” 
“You’re working too hard, that’s all.” And he wasn’t helping, so go figure. The busy pro hero had not done the laundry since you’d moved in together - that was happily taken on as your task since he always managed to do the dishes even after long days of work keeping the streets clean and free from villany. The busy pro who always tried to take laundry day, or at least the morning of laundry day, to stay home since the rule was “everything worn gets washed” which meant he got to watch you walk around the apartment naked while he also lounged around in the buff. 
The washing machine breaking the other day, and your darling pro hero boyfriend’s tired attempt at fixing it only making it worse, is why you had to be in the laundromat and washing clothes while fully clothed. 
“Do you work later?”
“Trying not to, but anything can happen.” 
You nod at that, holding your hand out for more coins and looking over when he only put his hand in yours to hold it. The relaxed smile on his face eases all the tension in your body almost immediately; and you squeeze his hand with a smile of your own as he puts the coins in for you, bringing your knuckles to his lips for a kiss as you start the machine. 
“Not very chivalrous of me to let you do all the work here, when it’s kinda my fault we have to be here.”
“I won’t tell if you won’t,” you promise, leading him back towards the folding table you’d made your base camp for the morning. He lifts you onto it with ease, standing between your legs and resting his head on your chest. He hadn’t styled his hair this morning so the bright red locks laid flat against his head, making it easy for you to run your fingers through his hair and scratch at his scalp without getting product under your nails.
“'M sorry I messed up the washer.”
“All good, the thing was going out anyway. The new one gets delivered on Monday, and we’ll be back to normal.” Your reasoning is met with a hum, his fingers ghosting along the skin of your thighs left uncovered by your shorts. It’s an innocent touch, but quickly turns less than when those nimble digits dance their way under the loose material along the inside of your thighs. 
“Eijiro, we’re in public.”
“We’re alone, baby, ‘n I wanna say sorry:”
“You can say sorry at home.”
“Not fun.” He’s pouting at you now, trying to play at your weaknesses while his fingers stay just barely away from your mound. “C’mon, baby, it’ll be okay. Just wanna take care of you for taking such good care of me. Just my fingers, promise.”
There were many ways that this could go wrong. He couldn’t “just” finger you, he was too eager to please and once he got a taste of you he could never stop. Not until you were thoroughly spent and requiring that he stopped so you could breathe. But you couldn’t fight the pout, nor could you argue with the desire that he’d stirred up with his fingers alone. 
“Just your fingers?”
“I promise, and you know a chivalrous hero never breaks a promise.” 
He hadn’t yet, and that has you nodding while leaning in to kiss him. The grin on his face is nothing short of victorious, his fingers finding their place between your folds and finding that your body had chosen long before you did. 
“Already wet, and you didn’t wear panties. I’d say you wanted to get fucked in the laundromat this morning.”
“My body knows that laundry soap means I’m about to get dicked down, that’s all.”
“Mhm. I’m sure my big muscles carrying both of the baskets in one trip had nothing to do with it.”
“You caught me.” Your hand coming up to grip one of those biceps when two fingers push into your wet pussy with ease only has him smirking, pushing his forehead to yours to ensure he didn’t miss a single indication of pleasure in your face. “I do love your big muscles, Eiji.”
“Yeah, I know. What do you want for lunch?” His fingers move inside you as he poses the question, thumb carefully grazing over your clit which has you gasping before you can answer. “ I don’t think ‘ah!’ is food, baby.”
Your witty counter is just a whispered “shut up”, as he’s bringing a third finger to join the other two and the feeling of the stretch has your mind buffering a bit. It’d been about a week since you and Eijiro had time like this, he’d been busy and your own work had picked up a bit - two tired bodies and exhausted minds did not make for real interest in sex. 
“Missed you, baby,” he whispers, nudging your nose with his own as his fingers continue their easy thrusts. “Missed you so much, I hate how much I’m working.”
“Missed you too, Eiji,” you murmur back, teeth catching his top lip as his fingers curl inside you. “But your work is important, I can handle the late nights and early mornings.”
“Not very chivalrous to leave a beautiful girl all alone in that big bed.” His thumb presses against your clit, his free hand holding your thigh open to keep his access unrestricted. “Needed her big strong hero to keep her warm, help her cum, and I was off being chivalrous to other people.”
His thumb lifts, and you try to follow but his hands keep you firmly planted in your spot at the table. This wasn’t the time to tease, but you knew he wouldn’t risk dragging this out while you were in public, it was too dangerous for that. 
“I’d get on my knees for you right now if I could.” His whisper is heavy with his own need, a hiss escaping when your free hand cups the bulge in his shorts. “Baby.”
“It’s not breaking a promise if I ask, right?” your offer has him pulling back so he could properly look at you with pupils blown, lips parted - the picture of needy perfection, swallowing in anticipation when you whisper: “Please fuck me, Eijiro.”
You trusted that he wouldn’t agree if there was even a chance of being caught on camera. He was in the top ten, there was too much to lose in a scandal like this. So you knew it was safe when he nods, but you also knew that the excitement might end up being too much for him. 
His hands are only slightly shaky as he pushes his shorts down just enough to free his length, and you’re thankful that your shorts only needed to be pushed to the side to allow him to line himself up with your dripping core since you didn’t want to have to scramble for them should someone come in. 
Even with the prep; after two weeks without him, the stretch to accommodate feels insane. Maybe it’s the environment and the risk making you tense,which in turn was making your gummy walls akin to a vice around your sweet boyfriend, but you know by the look on his face that he’s not going to last long this time around - but he’d always deliver.
“Need a minute,” he mumbles, his hands gripping your hips as your hands carefully come up to hold his cheeks. “Can’t even begin to explain how fucking great you feel right now.” 
“Just keep that quirk in check, big guy,” you whisper, earning a breathy laugh from your lover at the reminder as his hands give you a gentle squeeze. Those hands were always gentle when they touched you, holding your hips at just the right angle as he started to move inside you. The pressure of his fingertips was just right, his hips meeting yours in borderline frantic thrusts with one goal: get off before getting caught in the act. Your hand finds itself on the back of his head, fingers interwoven in the soft red locks as he kisses along your jawline. Gentle nips are soothed by softer kisses, sweet nothings whispered in between while you relish in the attention you’re getting from your beloved.
And the whole time he’s talking. Whispering to you how much he loves you, how wonderful you are, how good you feel, how badly he can’t wait to get you home and do this all over again all day until he has to stop. It’d been too long, he’d missed you and your body so much, he never wanted to go that long without you again. 
“Baby, baby, fuck,” he groans, pressing his face into the crook of your neck as the grip on your hips grew tighter. The pace of his thrusts becomes uneven, one hand moving from your hip so he could rub at your clit to push you towards his desired end. “You’re so fucking good, gonna cum for me? Gonna cum so I can give you mine?”
You can only nod, your own hand tightening in his hair to keep him close while he fucks into you. You can hear the back of the table you’re perched on banging against the washing machines behind you, but you can’t hear the words tumbling from your lips into his shoulder as the coil in your gut continues to tighten. 
“That’s it, baby, please please cum. Always look so pretty when you do.” His mumbles into your neck only push you closer, your heart pounding and blood rushing through your ears the only thing that you could focus on as your legs tighten around his hips. You’re biting into his shoulder when you finally topple over that edge, the release desperately needed and has your toes curling as his hips still against yours and your senses are flooded with a different warmth. 
“Fuck,” you whisper, releasing his hair and gently massaging at his scalp to try and soothe whatever ache might have been left from your grip. “Needed that, baby. Needed you.”
“Yeah?”
“Pretty girl needed her big strong hero.” Your confirmation has him grinning into your neck, leaving a gentle kiss on your skin before he’s pulling back to rest his forehead against yours. 
“Let's get cleaned up, baby. Wanna sit or come with me to the bathroom?”
“I’ll sit.” 
He nods as he pulls out, tucking himself back into his shorts before leaving you with a kiss to your nose to go to the bathroom. You only sit for a second before you’re turning back to face where he was still heading to the bathroom. 
“There was a bathroom all along!?"
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angelnoodlesoup · 8 months
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it’s a fight at first. angel never wants his help and never wants david to do anything for them that they’re able to for for themselves - which, after all their years, is just about everything. david feels like he needs to sit on his hands, thinking back on some asinine online quiz ash had make him take in high school about love languages. he can’t do acts of service if they won’t let him. 
so he starts small with coffee in the morning, insisting that he accidentally made too much. they let him do their laundry in the middle of a busy week when they’re hunched over their computer with nothing to wear to work the next day after a considerable amount of convincing. david tries a gentler approach when he asks them, soft with his hand smoothing through their hair, to let him do something for them. there’s a learning curve. things are still new, and it takes a while for angel to promise that they’ll ask for help when they need it, but david figures he must have done something right. 
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mikathewriter · 1 month
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Guys I'm very affectionate. Which means I use a lot of nicknames and petnames but it's all platonic. Also if I like you I will have ur notifs on like I do with my other friends because I like interacting. It can be kinda weird because I will interact with a post you made like 9 seconds ago immediately. I just 🧍 that's just kinda how I show I appreciate you.
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xdacted · 7 months
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i think you were drunk (you spelled wedding wrong)
Paring: Reader x Carlos Sainz Jr.
Warnings: Hurt/no comfort, Fluff, Childhood love
Word Count: 5,807
Status: Complete
Inspired by: "Why'd you invite me to your wedding?" - Kevin Atwater
____________________
Carlos hadn’t seen the message until the next morning. 
A message from a number he thought forgot about him. For a moment, he wondered if it could be true. If it was real. 
“Hey! I’m sorry this is so out of the blue, I know it’s been a while. I hope you’re doing good, I watch your races so just know I’m always rooting for you. I miss being at the races with you, it was always so fun. I’m sorry it’s been so long. But I wanted to invite you to my weddign, which will be next month. I’ve sent an invitation to your family, I hope that’s alright. I wanted to invite you myself because I could not imagine that day without you. Let me know if you can make it, I know how busy you are. Love you.”
Then, right under it, is a smaller bubble that reads:
“Text me back if you can. I miss you.”
Carlos thinks he might be sick. He rereads the message, pulling his phone closer to his face. He can’t stop himself from whispering her name. It’s been years. This girl, his girl. His entire life, she’s been there, since he was little. They were fast friends, but, of course, to Carlos, it was more than that. 
To him, it was everything. 
__________
“Someone has a crush on Carlito!” 
Her brothers were running around them, stomping across the grass. She groaned at them, they had moved twice - each time prompted by them coming around to pick at their sister. Carlos liked to giggle at it, he and Blanca weren’t as rambunctious. 
Carlos knew that they liked to pick on her, but would always stop the moment she began to cry. She was their baby sister after all. 
“Shut up! I do not!” 
Her face was a violent red, the blush spreading up to her ears. She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest, and puffing her cheeks. Her brothers come to pull at her hair, pinching at her sides. She whines for them to leave her alone and Carlos can only giggle. 
He thinks about what they’ve said. A crush? On him? The thought alone makes his face go hot. That kind of thing, with moms and dads and kissing. He hadn’t given it much thought. 
Would it be so bad? Carlos didn’t think so. He thought that if he did have to marry anyone, he’d like it to be her. She liked racing and played golf with him.  
“Maybe Carlito has a crush on you!”
“Stop!”
Carlos looked down at his lap. Did he? He pulls at the skin of his fingertips, his head full of thoughts. He shakes his head, trying to laugh it away, “No way!” He says. 
It’s easier like that. 
When he looks over at her, she’s staring straight at him, a smile on her face. 
“We’re best friends!” She declares, glaring over at her brothers, “Right?”
“Right!” Friends. If she wanted to be friends, Carlos thought that was perfect. “Best friends.”
Because even friends could marry each other, right?
__________
He spent the morning staring at his phone. 
Carlos thought that perhaps it would go away, fade into nothingness, but it was still there, a blue bubble glaring right at him. He had spent hours rereading it, so much so that he was sure he could recite it from memory. 
‘I miss you.’
He squeezed his eyes shut. The memories of her were something that he kept away. Secret treasures that he held so close to his heart. Even after all these years, at just the simplest phrase, Carlos could feel his heart begin to pound. 
It was only her. 
It would only ever be her. 
Evidently, he recalls bitterly, he wasn’t it for her. Carlos has to stop himself from throwing the phone. Even in the darkness of his mind, he can see those words. He can hear her voice, reading them aloud. It makes him sick. 
He knew that they would meet again - he prayed for it - but never like this. It wasn’t fair. Almost cruel, he thinks, that he would be subject to loving her for the rest of his life. But, how beautiful it is to love her. 
He thinks of her smile. The smallest quirk of her lips, something so shy and tiny. It was only full with him, or at least, it was. His mind wanders to who she might be now. There’s a part of him that knows he could find out, the quickest search of her name would tell him everything.
But there’s a reason he hasn’t, he was afraid of seeing her happy without him. 
He couldn’t. 
Carlos sighed. 
His chest was heavy with emotion. There was a sea of them - anger, sadness, happiness, longing. He might just explode. Fall apart on his couch and just a mess of a man. 
They were so young then. Just kids. Carlos thinks of the irony, they used to sit and laugh at the thought of people getting married so young. Thinking that you could devote yourself to someone you hardly knew, he remembers how they thought it was so stupid. 
It isn’t as funny anymore. 
__________
When Carlos got the call from Red Bull he cried. 
His father had been pacing the room with him, talking about his chances and pondering on the season. But as soon as that phone rang, he was right at Carlos’ side, already pulling him into a hug as soon as he confirmed a date for contract negotiations. 
It was his time. 
His start was here and now. 
When he managed to calm himself down, he called her. 
She picked up and screeched in his ear when he broke the news. 
“OH MY GOD! CARLOS! YOU DID IT!”
He started to cry all over again, “...I know…”
“I’m coming over,” She said hurriedly, he could hear her bustling around the room. 
“Wait! You don’t have to -” She’d already hung up on him. 
He was waiting outside for her, fidgeting with the dirt around the steps of his house. The excitement was buzzing in his veins, he could still hardly believe it. She rode up only a few moments later, dropped her bike onto the lawn, and ran up to him. He caught her in a hug. 
Carlos couldn’t help the few tears that escaped him. His dream was finally happening. He would finally get the chance to be known as more than just the son of Carlos Sainz, he was going to make a name for himself. 
He couldn’t wait. 
When she pulled away, she was quick to seize his shoulders, “You did it!”
He could only smile, there was so much joy, he was bursting with it. 
“I’m so proud of you, Carlos,” She said, smiling up at him. 
He felt his face go red. She would never understand how much those words would mean. Everyone could hate him, everyone could be against him, but so long as she wasn’t, he could do anything. Since the very beginning, she had always been his biggest supporter. Every race she could go to, she was at. It got harder as he climbed the ranks, races were farther and farther. But it always seemed like she just knew. 
When he would come back she would insist on a very detailed account, getting angry with him when he left anything out. She claimed it made her feel like she was there. Carlos always just rolled his eyes, but he could never deny how much he loved it. To know that she wanted him to do well. 
It made every victory sweeter and every loss harder. 
Above all, he hated losing in front of her. To know that she was watching, to know that she could see him fail. He hated it. But she always said that even champions have bad seasons, it wasn’t untrue, but Carlos hated it nonetheless. 
They had moved to the steps of his house. Sitting beside one another, their knees touching, she bumped him with her shoulder. 
“So, you’re going to remember me when you’re rich and famous?”
He rolled his eyes, “I don’t know. I’ll probably be super busy being too cool.”
“You are not cool.”
“Whatever,” He shrugged, “Don’t come crying to me when I’m champion.”
“As if,” She shoved him, he caught himself on the step and turned to her. 
He began to laugh before hooking his arm around her neck, “Of course, I’ll remember you.”
‘I love you.’
“You’re my best friend.”
She looks up at him. Carlos thinks that there’s something that passes across her face, but then, it’s gone. She smiles a true smile. Wide and beautiful.
“Good.”
_________
His mother calls him on the way to a meeting. 
As much as he wishes he could just let the phone ring, he knows he can’t. 
As soon as he answers, she’s gushing in his ear, “Carlito, I can’t believe she’s getting married! How wonderful! She will be the most beautiful bride! The invitation is just gorgeous.”
He lets her speak, leaning back in his seat. It hurts to know that his mother is so excited. He always thought that she wanted him to marry her, that’s what she always said when he was a kid. Maybe everyone let it go but him. 
“Did you know about this?”
“No, Mama,” He lies. It’s awful, lying to her. He can’t try to explain his feelings now, there’s still a part of him that wishes they’d go away. Hoping to drown himself in whatever work Ferrari will give him. The pain burns and he just wants to breathe again. 
“We should send her something,” She adds, he can hear her moving around the house. He wonders if she has the invitation in his hand. 
He hums, trying to keep the anger from his voice. This wasn’t her problem and he wasn’t going to make it hers. She doesn’t need to know - even if she did, what would she do?
His mother seems to think for a moment, humming a mindless tune before saying, “You should send her something!”
Carlos nearly chokes. 
“What?”
“Yes!” Her voice is so bright, “You two were so close, why not send her something? A ‘congratulations’ of sorts. Yes, that would be nice.”
“Mama…” He begins, unsure of how to tell her, “I - I don’t know -”
“Carlos,” She warns. 
With a sigh, he just hums again, “I’ll look into it.”
“Good,” He can hear the excitement ramp up in her voice again, “Isn’t this just so beautiful?”
Carlos can’t respond. 
It isn’t. It makes him sick. The very thought of it makes him want to cry and scream. Anger burns within him, stomach twisting. He hates this. He hates it because he loves her. He loves her more than anything. 
“It is.”
__________
It was quiet, the summer sun dancing on their skin. A breeze pulling through the air, tall grass blades dancing. The smell of the garden roses drifting around them. 
Carlos’ heart was pounding, thudding against his ribs, nearly jumping into his throat. He tried to swallow the anxiety that nearly lept from him, but the nerves in his stomach made it impossible. He felt like he was choking. Just sitting beside her, so close, but so far. 
He could feel the heat of her hand, he yearned to touch her, to intertwine their fingers. It wouldn’t be wrong, they held hands a lot back then, but he wasn’t sure he could do it, afraid his heart would’ve exploded. 
“What is it?” She looked over at him, her eyes trying to pry the information out of him.
He tore his face away, fists clenching at his side. He was always so afraid to tell her. Just a boy terribly in love with a girl, but he could never bring himself to say it. When he tried the words would abandon him and he would just end up brushing it off. 
But there, in the silence of the garden, he knew there was no hiding it. Not when she was boring a hole into the side of his head. She stared right through him. He took his lip between his teeth, horrified at the thought of it all slipping out. 
She would hate him. If he ever dared to say something like that she would kill him, he was so sure. It’s funny to look at it now, but he just focused on the blades of grass beside him. The green was bright and strong, small weeds blooming within the folds of dirt. He reached over to pluck at a dancing flower, but his hand was caught. 
She grabbed him, fingers around his wrist. Her hold was hardly there, he could break free from it if he wanted. But he didn’t want to. He wanted to stay there with her. 
 He was sure that she could feel his racing heart, but she said nothing. Just bringing her hand up to rest in his palm. His stomach flipped, and he shut his eyes. 
This wasn’t like him. Carlos had never been a coward, but for her - and only her - he was reduced to nothing. He loved her, his feelings brimming inside him.
Any more and he was sure that he would come apart at the seams. 
“Carlos,” Her voice whispered. 
He cracked his eyes open, and she was there, leaning over to peer down at him. Her hair fell from her shoulders, so close that he could smell her shampoo. It was the same one she’d used since they were 6 - one her mother made. The scent was her and her alone. 
Carlos swallowed. 
She lowered herself closer. Carlos was sure his heart was so loud that she could hear it, surely she could. She smiled down at him, cocking her head to the side. 
“What are you thinking?”
He just shook his head, afraid to trust his voice. 
“Then?”
“‘Then’ what?”
“Why won’t you look at me?” A pout made its way on her face, jutting her lower lip out dramatically. 
He chuckled, trying to rein in his heart. But it was so difficult, her beautiful eyes looking down at him, the lines of her lips and nose and cheeks. He had memorized it all. He would know her no matter what, from the way she laughed, to the way she spoke, to the way she just breathed. 
Carlos loved her so much it hurt. 
‘I can’t,’ He didn’t say, ‘I love you too much.’
She didn’t say anything. Just smiling down at him. Carlos thought that just for a moment if even for a moment, something shifted in her eyes. A foreign look floats in them, dancing in the color and making them shine. 
It was odd. 
He wanted to know what that was, the smallest change. Silence pulled over them. 
The sun shined through the parts in her hair, falling onto his skin, a gentle stroke of warmth. The breeze carried the scent of the roses, and the grass below them swayed. Around them, the world seemed to slow. It was like the only person he could see was her. 
The only person that she could see was him. 
Lost somewhere in time, just two hearts dancing away in the summer. Nothing else would matter, just them, just at this moment. 
Carlos lost himself. 
He leaned up, closing the space between them, and kissed her. 
The softest thing, a barely there press of their lips. 
He hadn’t even realized he’d done it, pulling himself away as soon as he did. 
Neither of them said a thing. Just staring at the other with wide eyes. A pink blush dusted her cheeks, and that look in her eyes changed again. She drew in a sharp breath, and Carlos was sure he’d ruined everything.  
It was destroyed because of him. 
But he couldn’t even mutter out an apology. There was nothing to say, nothing to do. She moved away, rolling back to sit on the grass. Carlos felt like crying, bringing a forearm to cover his face. 
What an idiot. 
He felt the regret sit against his chest, so heavy he could hardly breathe. Why did he have to lose control of himself? They were supposed to be friends, but all he was doing was making it complicated. He was in love with her, she loved him - it was supposed to be enough. 
Carlos let out a deep sigh. He could hear the grass shifting beside him, he spared a look over and she was still there. She sat with her knees pulled up to her chest, tucking her chin on them, arms wrapped around her legs. 
When he opened his mouth to speak, she beat him to it, “I - I guess…I mean, I guess it would be lame if you went to Red Bull without having your first kiss, huh?
He shot up, “That’s - that’s not what this was! I - I’m sorry!”
She turned to face him, her face still bright red, but with a shy smile, “It’s ok.” 
He hadn’t realized that he reached for her hand, and she squeezed, “I didn’t mind. If I’m going to have my first kiss, at least it’s you.”
Carlos could only stare at her, mouth hanging open. 
This wasn’t what he thought. 
“Are you sure?”
She leaned against her knees, “Yeah. Isn’t that what friends are for?”
The word struck him deeper than it had any right to. But he couldn’t help the relief that flooded through him, “Yeah…yeah…of course.”
“It would be lame if I was the only F4 driver without a kiss.”
“Super lame.”
“Hey!”
She burst into laughter. Her laugh filled the garden and he was soon to join, throwing his head back. This was easy. Being like this with her was easy. 
“That means you would’ve been lame too.”
“Not as lame as you.”
“I’m super cool.”
“No, Carlos, you’re not.”
They never spoke of it again. 
__________
Carlos nearly has a heart attack when his phone buzzes in his pocket. But, upon further inspection, it’s only Blanca.
‘I talked to Mom,’ Her text says, ‘She told me what happened.’
He just stares at it. Pocketing his phone, he’ll answer it later. Too many texts have been sent to him today. Carlos contemplates running over his phone. Maybe that’ll shut everyone up.
His pocket buzzes again. And again. And again. 
With a groan he pulls it back out, scrolling through the messages. 
‘Answer me.’ 
‘CARLOS.’
‘Ok,’ Is all he sends back, ready to tuck it away once more, but there’s another text that pops up. 
‘Are you ok?’
For a moment, Carlos thinks about telling her. Though he never said a word about his feelings Blanca had this way of knowing. She called it a ‘sister thing’. Carlos just thought she was nosey.
‘Yes,’ he sends, following it with, ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’
The text bubbles appear and disappear, it’s not very fair. He knows. But there’s too much happening and he can’t - he just can’t. Tomorrow he will apologize, but today, he just needs a break. 
In one of her ‘sister thing’ moments, she only ends up sending. 
‘OK, I’m here if you need anything. I love you.’
Carlos can feel the lump in his throat and struggles to swallow it. 
‘I love you too.’
__________
She called him sobbing. 
It was nearly midnight, Carlos had just gotten back from a race. He’d fallen onto his bed, sighing into the night air, when the rang. He thought about letting it go, the rings growing louder in the silence of his room. 
Against himself, he reached over and answered. 
As soon as he did, he could hear her heaving breaths, the sound of her hiccuping cries. He shot up and pulled the phone closer. 
“What happened? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
There was no answer, just another broken sob. The slick sound of her sniffling, wet breath. 
“Please,” He whispered, already standing, “Please tell me what’s wrong. Carino, please.”
“W-Will you come o-over?” She managed.
He did. Shoved his feet into his shoes, pulled a shirt over his head, and stormed right out the door. It never crossed his mind to take a car - he just ran. Pushing his way through the gate and rounding the corner into the street. He could hardly see a thing, the moon clouded and fuzzy. 
But he ran to her. 
He was there faster than ever, crawling over the small fence to get to her backyard. The garden stood tall, and the roses nicked his ankle. But all he could think about was the light coming from the upstairs bedroom, a shadowy figure pacing across the curtains. 
He had half a mind to scream for her, but she peered through the curtains and he could see the relief spread across her face. The sight of her made his stomach drop, he nearly tripped over himself to climb the ledge. It was a path he’d taken countless times, jumping to grip the railing and hoisting himself up. As a kid, he used to need her help, but they weren’t kids anymore. 
And Carlos is sure he would’ve found a way. Nothing could’ve stopped him from reaching her. 
Dropping himself onto the wooden floor, he breathed her name, but she was already pushing herself into his arms. He felt her trembling against him, wet facing pressed into his shirt. He couldn’t have cared less. Wrapping his arms around her, he brought her closer. Claros dropped his head to whisper into her ear. 
“I’m here…shh…I’m right here.”
Where her arms were locked around him, she fisted at his shirt, the fabric bunched between her fingers. Her grip was so tight he worried it might rip, but how could he ever worry about that? She pulled away from him, just enough to look him in the eye. Her face was blotchy, cheeks wet with tears, eyes red-rimmed. 
But Carlos still thought she was beautiful. 
The heartbreak on her face made something crack within him. 
“W- What’s wrong? Please, tell-”
“My dad,” She gasped, sucking in a large fit of air, “It - it’s my dad…he’s dying, Carlos…”
The world seemed to go still. Her words hadn’t seemed real, and Carlos half expected her brothers to jump from the dark hallway and laugh. It wasn’t possible. Things like this weren’t supposed to happen to them. Things like this - losing people, losing friends, and family - happened to everyone else. 
But not them.
It seemed that the world had finally come caving in on their little bubble. It was shattering around him and all Carlos wanted to do was stop it. Carlos felt so cold, that he hadn’t even realized that he began to cry too. Silent tears rolled down his face before he could stop them. 
The pain was unbearable. 
But they held each other. There, on her porch, they stood crying. Falling apart and having the other to lean on. Carlos clung to her, afraid that the world would try to take her too. That it would get greedy. 
‘I’m sorry,’ He wanted to say, but he couldn’t. The words lost to him, stuck in his throat.
He prayed that she would know. That she would know his feelings, the way he needed her. The way he loved her.
“Stay,” She whispered to him, her words almost swallowed by her cries, “Please.”
‘I need you.’ Went unsaid, but Carlos heard it anyway. 
 “Always.”
‘I love you.’
__________
“Everything alright, mate?” Charles’ voice pulled him back to himself 
Carlos shakes his head, blinking a few times, eyes stinging, “Yeah..fine. Sorry.”
He looks up, Silvia glaring down at him. The P.R. briefing was never anything he truly listened to, but perhaps his disinterest had gotten far too obvious. 
“As I was saying,” She rolled her eyes, flipping the papers in her hand. 
Her words fell past him again, something about interviews and language. He could feel Charles’ eyes still on him. He was far too kind for his own good, sometimes that meant trying to understand things that he had no business knowing. 
The meeting rolled on, and when they were dismissed, Carlos tried to slip away, but he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. 
“Hey!” Charles hooked his arm around Carlos, “Everything alright?”
“Of course,” He tried to sell it with a smile.
Charles didn’t believe him, green eyes boring into his own. When Carlos looked away, Charles was quick to bid those around them goodbye and steer them to an empty conference room. 
Damn, empath.
“What is it?” Charles said, shutting the door behind him. 
Secrets had never been Carlos’ strong suit. He threw himself onto a chair, bringing his hands up to his face. He hadn’t spoken to anyone about the message and was unsure how to start. He was lost in the sea of his emotions, torn between his sadness and anger. 
He felt like an idiot. 
“Carlos?”
Charles sits across from him, concern written across his face. Carlos takes a deep breath, he steadies himself on his knees, resting his elbows on his legs. 
“There was this girl - we were friends when we were little,” Charles nods along, letting Carlos speak, “And earlier today, she texted me to tell me that she was getting married.”
“OK?”
Carlos looks over at Charles. He’s unsure of the face that he makes, but it seems to be enough for him to understand. His face falls and he puts his hands over his heart. 
“Mate, I - I’m so sorry.” 
Carlos waves him away. This isn’t his fault, and yet, it’s just like Charles to act as if it is, “I will be fine.” 
Charles is silent for a while, looking down at his hands. He’s fiddling with the rings on his fingers, eyes darting around the room. Carlos has known him for far too long, he could practically see the cogs turning. 
“What?”
Charles doesn’t answer right away, but when he does, there’s a look in his eye, “Do you still love her?”
Carlos takes a deep breath. There is only one answer, there has only ever been one answer. 
“Yes.”
__________
Her father died 4 months later. 
And she was gone two months later. 
Her mother couldn't take the pain of being alone in the house her husband built, so she left. All things packed, the house empty, they were gone. 
Carlos couldn’t even say bye. His negotiations with Red Bull ran longer than they were supposed to, when he threatened to walk out his father nearly smacked him. 
“This is the opportunity of a lifetime!”
“She’s my best friend - I love her!”
“There will be other girls, she is not the only -”
“Yes,” He nearly screeched, “She is! She is the only one!”
His father just stared at him, sharp eyes squinting. He would never understand and Carlos didn’t have the strength to make him. He called her instead. 
She picked up on the second ring. Neither one of them said a thing, but Carlos could feel her disappointment. It was his own. 
Eventually, he can bring himself to utter her name, trying to find the apology, but she beats him to it. 
“I’m going to miss you,” She says.
Carlos nearly cries. They’ve been apart, his racing often keeping them away from one another for months on end, but she has always been at him, waiting for him. 
“I wish you could stay.”
He was being selfish - he knows - but the fear of her leaving, going far away. Carlos thought he was dying. His chest was tight, breathing shallow. His mind was racing, trying to think of something to make her stay - anything. 
“I do too,” He could hear the faintest hint of a smile in her voice, “But I can’t.”
“I could…” He began. 
But there was nothing. There was nothing that he could’ve done. The decision was one that was far beyond both of them. Spain held so much sadness for her, and it would be wrong for Carlos to ever want to have kept her there. It wouldn’t have been right. 
Silence ballooned between them once more. They were just there, breathing with one another. There was so much Carlos wanted to say, so much he needed to say. His love felt like it was bursting from his chest, trying to force its way out. Carlos choked it back. 
This wasn’t the time. It wasn’t the right moment to - 
“I love you, Carlos.”
The words hit him and he nearly collapsed. He could imagine her face, hand curled tight around her phone, beautiful face red. His heart was pounding, blood rushing. 
All these years, all this time. He loved her in silence, but to know that she loved him. It made him feel like he was floating. 
“I -”
“Carlos!”
His father was standing right before him, eyebrows drawn tight together, “They are waiting!”
“I’m going, I just have to-”
“You should go, Carlos,” He heard, her voice thin. She was crying, he knew she was, “They’re waiting for you.”
“NO!” He demanded. This wasn’t how he’d say goodbye, he wanted to tell her. 
“Please, I just need to say something.”
Again, his father just stared at him. But there was something different, his eyes were softer. Carlos thought if even for a moment, he saw understanding. With a click of his tongue, his father turned away, “Five minutes.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. 
He took a deep breath, “I - I need you to know-”
“I already do know,” There was a slight laugh to her words, just the smallest thing. Before Carlos could say anything else, she kept going, “Go show them who you are, Carlos.”
“But I need to tell you that I -”
“I love you too,” Was all he heard before the dial tone. 
She was gone. Just like that. 
__________
Though Charles offers to take him out to treat his sorrows, Carlos declines. He watches as Charles’ smile falters, but he still pats Carlos on the shoulder. 
“Of course,” He says, turning to fish his keys from his pocket, “But if you change your mind, let me know. Okay?”
Carlos nods. He waves Charles away. When he’s alone in his hotel room, he collapses onto his bed. He slips his phone from his pocket. It opens and he’s face-to-face with her message. 
Carlos wanted to be angry. 
After years, this was the first thing she said. 
He could say something, call her. It wouldn’t be right, he can’t be the reason that she breaks someone’s heart. He can't be the reason that someone else has to live without her. What a terrible existence that is. 
It just makes no sense, to think that after all these years, she invites him to her wedding. Carlos always thought that once they made their way back to each other, they would marry. In all his dreams, she was his wife. To love her forever would make the distance worth it. 
She told him that day. She said that she loved him, Carlos couldn’t help but think that maybe she was just being nice, just telling him what he wanted to hear on the most important day of his life. Thinking that maybe he had taken it wrong.
“Love you.”
But she would never love him the way he loved her. Completely. From the first day he met her, bumping heads in class, to the day he lost her. He has always loved her. He can see her still, smiling and bright - like the stars. He can feel the summer breeze, the smell of their childhood. He can see the rosebuds right before they bloom, waiting with her as the rain comes and they get sick. He remembers going to all her Flamenco performances - acting like he really cared about dances and not just seeing her face light up when she saw him. 
There is no part of his life that he can look back on and not see her. She is everywhere. And Carlos knows that she always will be. 
‘Text me back if you can.’
He couldn't bring himself to say no but knew he’d die if he had to see her marry someone else. It would break her heart, he’s sure of it. He can almost picture the disappointment on her face. Carlos wishes he could be stronger, to just put on a brave front, but he can’t. He’s only human. 
He’s just a man hopelessly in love with a woman he can’t have. 
What a pitiful thing to be. 
Carlos looks down at his phone.
The words are searing. If he saw her, what would he even say? Would he be able to hold himself back? Keep himself from spilling his feelings? 
The answer is simple. 
He won’t. 
There is something small inside of Carlos’ mind that feels giddy, she still thinks of him. He was still important to her, she wanted him. She cared about him. She missed him. Maybe she still loved him. Maybe he could - 
He shakes the thoughts from his head. No. That was a lifetime ago, those feelings were alive when they were 16. Not now.
There’s only one question he thinks back to. 
Why?
After all these years of silence, why now? Why this? 
They were kids back then, but Carlos likes to think that even what they felt then wasn’t nothing. That’s the very problem. Nothing was the same. They weren’t the same, the world around them wasn’t the same - even if Carlos so desperately wished it was. 
The screen begins to fade, but he taps it. It lights up once more, illuminating in the darkness of the hotel room. 
She’s getting married and she wants him to come. 
She’s happy and in love. She’s moved on. Carlos thinks of her smile again. A crushing sense of finality passes over him. He hopes that whoever it is makes her smile, and makes her laugh. He hopes that they hold her when she cries, and catch her when she falls. 
He hopes that one day he’ll be able to look back on her without so much pain. 
Why? 
That question refuses to die, still floating around in his mind even as he tries to shake it away. 
He’ll never know why, but maybe it’s better that way. To keep her as who she is in his memory, to keep them as they were. Young and beautiful. That’s all. 
Her message will sit unanswered. He can’t. He won’t. 
Carlos whispers an apology, he hopes that it might reach her. That she’ll catch the drift of his words in the wind, maybe even forgive him. He lets himself think of her, wondering what she’ll wear, what her hair will look like. 
Beautiful. 
He’s sure. 
He just won’t be there to see it. 
____________________
A/N:This work has been cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. All are under the name XDACTED. Thank you for reading and feel free to request fics about any of the drivers <3
Check out the song, it's not available yet, but it's up on TikTok
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michameinmicha · 7 months
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Im so full of love for justus jonas i hope you all know i think about him a lot! I have zero energy to write or draw anything but i hope you are aware hes rotating in my brain like a little ballerina in a kids jewellry box every day and if i could make some art i would okay!!!
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m-eowdy · 5 months
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m-eowdy housekeeping notes
Added "Oliver" back to my names. I love him too much, please (also) call me by that name
They/he -> he/they
Changed my icon back from catgirl Emma to just plain Emma. It was too crowded. Might change my icon to something else again if I find something, since I'm not really in my Starkid era rn.
I'm going to stop tagging Nerdy Prudes Must Die posts with #npmd spoilers
Beginning tomorrow, I'm going to stop tagging Our Flag Means Death posts about episodes 1-7 with #ofmd spoilers. I will still be spoiler tagging things happening in episode 8 until next thursday.
I am eating homemade popcorn with sugar and cinnamon and it's fucking delicious and I recommend it!
I have covid and it sucks but I'm getting better
Thank you, that was it! This is meant as a lighthearted thing btw. I just really like organising my thoughts into bulletpoints.
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7roaches · 6 months
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gooooood morninnggg 3bug nation
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plush-rabbit · 2 years
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Gang Orca Headcanons
Request: Can I have King Orca with a Small husband S/O SFW and NSFW headcannons?
A/N: I went to the beach today and I think he'd have a lot of fun there and would love to swim with you on his back and that's on me being self-indulgent because i can't swim(❁´◡`❁)
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SFW:
It isn’t that he’s particularly shy about the relationship, but rather that Kugo isn’t one to want to boast about being in a relationship. Of course, he wants to show you off, to dress you in fancy clothes and take you to the banquets held for heroes, or take you to nice restaurants and bring you flowers for every outing, but he isn’t one for those big showcases. It all feels wrong for him, that it isn’t him. He takes you out and he holds your hand, but he can never seem to bring himself to kiss you in any sort of way- no kiss on the top of your head, or on your hand, or his snout pressed against your face. It’s something that he doesn’t want people to see. He has no qualms about you kissing him, in fact, he looks forward to feeling you lift his hand and kiss the back of it, or even reach up and cup his face with your hands.
On your dates, the hero likes to take you out- to have you enjoy whatever it is that you want. Whether it’s to go on a walk through the plaza or in the street lined with vendors he wants to see you enjoy yourself. When in public, it’s common to find him attached to you, hardly ever leaving your side and a part of him teases that it’s because you’d get lost in the sea of people, but really, he just likes to have you close to him, knowing that he can protect you. He wants you to rely on him in the way that he relies on you- he wants you to find comfort in him, to know that you can go to him whenever you need and that you don’t have to worry about getting a step ladder to reach the tallest shelf, because he’ll be there for you. He wants you to rely on him and he’d show that through his wealth and his commitment towards you, going out of his way to know that with him, you don’t have to worry about anything since he’d be there to catch you.
It may not seem like it, but he’s rather playful with others. His air of authority dissipates when around you, his grin wide and tone with a lilt at the ends of his words. It isn’t meant to be in mean spirits, but he does love to tease you about your height. He’ll cup your face in his hands, fingers splayed towards the back of your head as your cheeks squish together, commenting on how you’re so small, and why you’re like that with a little coo in his voice. He gives you all sorts of nicknames in private, a swell of pride in his chest when you respond to them and coo back your own nicknames for him. His hands often just find themselves resting on the crown of your head, covering you completely in a  way that you never seem to mind. It comes so naturally for him to always be touching you, that he can’t help using you as a makeshift armrest.
You’re so much smaller than him, your hands barely covering his palm, and your wrists small enough that he can wrap his hand around it, and have his own fingertips curl over the back of his fingers. There’s a sort of wonder in his eyes everytime he holds your hand, the tip of his index scratching over the lines on your palm and the ones that cut horizontally over the back of your knuckles. He loves to hold your hand and compare sizes, muttering under his breath how you’re so small. You’re much frailer than him, his quirk gives him such a boost of power that he’s so careful around you, treating you like glass under his fingertips. He holds you softly, tightening his grip on your little by little, feeling your own arms around him tight and bursting with all the strength that you could muster.
Kugo’s stature towers over most people due to his quirk, and you are not exempt from that. He’s tall, and his fin makes him look even more so. He knows where he stands in hero society, a society with quirks, a published article even going as far to comment at how much of a villain he looks like. And yet, you still look up at him with a smile, clinging to him during movie nights, wanting to be held by him. He knows who he is, and he knows how he looks, and despite all that, you still want to be with him. He takes good care of you. His salary as a hero is immense, and he spends it on you. If you’ve ever commented on wanting something, he’s quick to go ahead and find it for you, putting the item in a nice bag and fluffing it with colored tissue paper. 
NSFW:
Kugo’s size affects many of his daily activities; from clothes having to be tailored to fit his build, to cars that can feel a bit snug, to sex. He is a massive man, in every way and shape. Before any type of penetration, he makes sure that you have at least climaxed once or twice beforehand. His nails are sharpened to the point that claws would be an accurate way to describe his hands, so any type of penetration is either done with a toy to stretch you or with his cock- possibly tongue at times. He doesn’t want you to feel any type of discomfort and was very hesitant onwards having sex with you in fear that he would harm you. Stretching you beforehand with a toy makes it so much easier to slip into you without fear that he’d tear something. 
Due to his size, he can be rather rough. While he’s done his best to hold back, there are moments where his strength overcomes him. He can be rough without intending to be- a grip on your waist may appear in a purple mark that spreads against your hip bone. He’ll turn you over to bury your face into the mattress, your drool darkening the comforter under you as he holds onto your hips, his tongue fat in your hole, stretching and spilling with spit down your thighs in heavy, syrupy strands. He can feel you squirm, shaking your body and muffling your cries into the bed under you, and you’re bucking yourself much too eagerly against him. His hands give you a squeeze, claws pinching into your soft flesh and dotted with crimson. The next morning, with your body tuckered out and the blanket covering the middle of your back, he takes a peek, a voyeuristic one at first, until he notices the bruising starting to take color, and finds a warmth of arousal jolt at his awakening cock. 
Whether it’s calling you pretty or moaning, something is always echoed out into the room. He’s a vocal man, making some type of noise that has the tips of your ears burning with a fever. There’s something rather erotic about hearing such a poised man become so vulgar, grunting out like a cat in heat, his nails leaving lines in it’s wake as you can feel everything happening in you. He can never find a way to be quiet, telling you in a sinful voice about how soft you feel, wrapped so tightly around him, how he can feel you clench around him and that it’s making his head spin. His voice is low, a husky tone to it that makes the words feel rougher than the bruising grip on your hip. It’s this innate urge in him to want to tell you how pretty you are with tears in your eyes, that he can see how he’s bullying out of you, and that he’s so proud that you can take nearly all of him and still look so endearing with spit and tears shining on your face. 
You clasp onto anything of him whether he’s on top or you are, scratching at his smooth skin, your nails barely able to make a dent in him. You kiss his lips, muttering seconds before how you want a kiss, grasping onto his shoulders, dragging your hands down his biceps, hooking your hands on the crook of his elbows. He adores you when you touch him. He could get drunk on how needy and feverish you are, unable to think straight, pulling him close to you and moaning about how good he feels. On this type of high, he’s much too sensitive, feeling every way your insides are pushed, how they cling and stick to him, the grooves of your walls and your rim clenching around the base of his cock. In a sitting position with your legs locked around him, your hands find their way to his back, fingertips brushing along the base of his dorsal fin and he’s bucking sharply inside of you. His find is far too sensitive, reacting in a way that feels as if he blood is pulsing enough for you to see.
With his quirk giving him enhanced strength and enhanced stamina, Kugo can go for multiple rounds before he tires. It’s rare for him to actually get tired, and he doesn’t usually go for as long as he could. He’s satisfied with just orgasming a few times, as long as you’re satisfied. He’s deep in you, seeing your dazed face, and open mouth, your sex dripping with cum weakly, in spurts that hold no real potency for much. He pulls away, letting the seed that is already buried deep in you, squelch out of you in a wet sound. You’re barely cognitive, slurring your words and reaching out for him, but you’ve been much too abused, your hole fluttering around nothing and rimmed with red from the stretch, and lowers your hands. Once you’ve calmed down and your body isn’t as sensitive as it was before, he’s bringing a cotton towel to clean you, shushing you when you try to grab at his still erect cock. He can go for hours without a doubt, but he’s already satisfied, lying beside you and bringing your flushed body close to his.
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kyt-online · 1 year
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monsters in my computer / monsters in my mind <3
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suashii · 4 months
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i was gonna say good morning but that anon put me in a bitchy mood. . . anyways everyone say happy birthday to mr kim seokjin ! !
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a-cosmic-elf · 5 months
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Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: F/M
Fandom: Starfield (Video Game)
Relationship: Yumi/Spacefarer | Player Character (Starfield)
Summary:
The morning after the Terrormorph Attack in New Atlantis, Calitrix wakes at The Lodge alone, but with a terrible hangover and little memory of the night before.
Everyone else knows exactly what she got up to, though. All thanks to SSNN!
She did, what?
Beta read by the amazing @kalliesa . <3
Yumi Live Reaction Cam under the cut:
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.💙
Again, massive thanks to my lovely beta @kalliesa sure, I could have have done it without you… but “Not as stylishly, of course.” 😉
I’m so sorry for dragging you into yet another fandom, lol. But seriously, all jokes aside, thank you so much for all your help and encouragement while working with me on this one, you’re amazing and it’s been so much fun. 🙏🏼🥴😂💕
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orgrimmar-archive · 1 year
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my comms are open.. this time with a NEW art section (woagh). just portraits (10$ for sketches and 25$ for color + shading) and landscapes (flat rate of 25 but can go up depending on complexity + architecture, and we can discuss prices if you want it fully colored shaded etc). bunch of examples in "#my art" tag both recent and ancient. dm me or watever if inch rested. i also have writing comms as always, i will link my ao3 for my public examples and can show you previous commissions if asked (protective over the individuality of these comms so i dont post them) examples and further pricing under the cut
ART COMM PRICING:
Portrait (Sketch): 10$ flat rate. Portrait (Color + Shading): 25$ flat rate. Will go up if character design is complex or you want a shading style different to my sort of colorblock shading. (I.E painterly). I DO use the symmetry tool as I like the effect.
CAN DO: Furries, I will ATTEMPT robotic/mechs, organic material (wood, metal, stone etc like statues) and humanoids but quality will vary on humans.. No gore + nsfw since I still am learning how to do liquid drippies and I want to give you the best cum/blood imaginable if you were to ask. Landscape (SKETCH): 25$+ Will do game environments or attempt from-life landscapes. Landscape (PAINTERLY, SIMPLE SHADING): Flat of 25 with an added 10$ for each hour spent working. (I.E if full piece takes 4 hours, it would be 55$, as the 25 accounts for the first stages.) Landscape (PAINTERLY, COMPLEX SHADING): ..... I will Attempt this. However, please be aware that this is an experiment. If there is complex architecture, shading or detail I will add a rate of about 5-10$ per hour I spend working on it. I will give estimates if needed, but I consider 4-6 hours to be my average turnaround time for most of my pieces (as I work on them while my boyfriend is away.) --- MANGA COLORING PRICING: Full Panels: 35-45$ depending on shading complexity. Icons: 10 -15$ depending on if you want any line edits Can do: Simple Line edits (adding earrings, stickers on cheeks, etc) PREFERRED if you BRING YOUR OWN PANEL!
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WRITING COMM PRICING:
Flat rate of 35$ per 1,500 words (Hey, that's more words than last run!) +10$ for each thousand words after that with a cap of 5k words. I WILL WRITE ANYTHING as long as it does not harm a real-world group, spread hate, lies or misinformation, and does not contain the obvious illegalities (i.e a detailed plot about murdering your best friend from your POV.) Here is my Ao3: AO3 and you can DM me either here (or ask for my discord through here) for more examples. Here are some pieces I've done within the past couple months if you dont feel like looking through my tags:
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(Last one was traced in many areas to practice but it still looks good so Im putting it in.) FINALLY: Manga colors from recent
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PPS: thank you for reading this far. I didnt mention it but I also do emojis for around 5-10$ depending on complexity..
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liomels · 2 months
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just look how ronaldo's team doing without him and how miami is doing without messi,they didn't even need him to beat miami they scored freaking 6 goals even without him and on the contrary look how miami messed up all his games without messi we are not the same bro I hate leo's luck why does he have to be always on his own in all his teams?it's unfair always the one who should do every fucking thing because the rest of them are just shit 😒I'm mad
THIS always made me so sad too, spend years doing that with argentina till they figured it out and spend his last years doing that with barcelona, he spend so much time trying to do everything only to be led down and blamed. But with miami, even though he is a competitive little shit, he has to know that this isn’t a place to compete for the first place so i don’t know it doesn’t making me sad as it did before. And i sure hope he doesn’t overthinking it too :/
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gatetogoldenwonders · 11 months
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Everyone freaking out about Misha’s return to Tumblr like
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nthflower · 11 months
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Cape characters being treated as crazy and insane because of their powers my beloved. I think powers as neurodivergency and mental conditions are an amazing metaphor when it's done right I relate to it soooo much. This is not a new observation I know but I just need to say it. I love misunderstanding mentally ill superhero characters.
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