Wow I have been nonstop thinking about tennis king yuuta and his little baby boy I’m going to kill you (affectionate) - @yuutito
teeheeeeeeeee….. here’s some more, aleks :’) enjoy :))))))
“Everybody thinks he looks like me, but I don’t see it that way. Maybe it’s because every time I look at him, I see my wife and I’m reminded of her […] I’m a little biased so I see her in everything.”
You find yourself with tears welling in your eyes the more you read into Yuuta’s latest magazine interview. Between his sweet quotes and the pictures of him with your son, it’s taking everything in you not to burst into full-blown tears.
Your boys look so handsome. You and Yuuta shared your concerns with publicizing your child at such a young age, but you two came to the conclusion that you’d rather have the control in the narrative than to let private family pictures be leaked uncontrollably. As another point of reassurance, Yuuta’s career provided him with just enough lime-light to be a household name without the crazy fame and criticism that came along being a true celebrity. Besides—Yuuta talked enough about you and your son in press conferences and interviews that it was bound to happen sooner rather than later.
The article wasn’t entirely about you, or your family—or at least, you’re sure it wasn’t intended to be; you knew your husband had a knack for rambling about his loved ones, even where work was concerned. As you continue to read, you find a segment where the author compared Yuuta’s current statements with something similar he’d said about you twelve years ago—at the very start of his professional career: “If I owe this [winning Gold] to anybody, it’s my girlfriend. She’s always believed in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself. I wouldn’t have qualified or even thought to qualify if it weren’t for her.”
It feels like you and Yuuta were just two kids in love back then. You didn’t think it could be more than that—you didn’t think you could love Yuuta more than you did all those years ago, but somewhere along the way just being in love wasn’t enough to describe it; Yuuta became your partner, someone you loved fundamentally, but also because you couldn’t stand to see yourself without him. And just when you thought you couldn’t love anyone nearly as much as you love him, you turn the page to a picture of your husband and son peeping through the holes of a racket and your heart feels full.
When you scan the image more closely, you realize that it isn’t just any racket—it’s an old one, one you’d given to Yuuta as a gift probably back in high-school. You had no idea he’d kept it, but you suppose you shouldn’t be all that surprised; Yuuta is nothing if not sentimental.
“Ah, there she is~” Yuuta’s voice cuts through your thoughts. When you turn, you see him, with your baby boy on his hip, sliding the back porch door closed.
Both boys approach you with a smile on your face, and you set the magazine aside to sit up in the lounge chair to greet them. Yuuta presses a kiss to your forehead, then your lips before you do the same to your son. Immediately after, he reaches his arms out for you, and Yuuta chuckles, “You wanna be with your mama? Can’t blame you, I missed her, too.”
He hands the baby off to you, and takes a seat on the other end of the chair, reaching over to coo at his son as you smother his face in kisses.
“How was the farmer’s market?” you question, letting the baby settle into your lap.
“Good, he picked out some very bright peppers, and we got some more strawberries, know you’ve been craving them,” Yuuta smiles, reaching over to pat your son’s head, when the closed magazine catches his eye, and he reaches for it, quickly flipping through, “Ah—I guess that interview’s out. He’s grown so much, even though it was only a few months ago.”
You find the blush on his cheeks beyond endearing. Yuuta always finds room to be bashful no matter how many times he’s waxed poetic about his love for you, or his family—his cheeks always stain pink like the first day you met him.
“It’s sweet. You’re sweet,” you smile, sparing a hand to run through Yuuta’s hair, charmed by the way he leans into your touch, “I didn’t know you still had that racket.”
“Of course, I keep everything you give me,” he says, earnestly. He closes the magazine and scoots a little closer, taking advantage of the proximity and of your touch to lay his head on your shoulder, “Did you… read all of it?”
“Almost, but no, why?” you question, with a light-hearted grin, “Did you say something that would lead the world to believe you’re somehow even more in love with me? Because you might already be past the threshold, dear.”
Yuuta hums. He reaches to take you son out of your lap and carefully shifts himself to that he’s laying down, his head on your lap, and the baby in his arms, happily giggling and cooing as Yuuta holds him up. He lowers and raises him back and forth a few times, nuzzling their noses together when their faces are close, before sitting him up on his chest.
Then he tilts his head up to look at you, wide, love-filled eyes blinking slowly before he says, “Maybe… depends on if me saying I want more kids is past the threshold or not.”
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🪄🏎 hello~ im your match for the motorsport zine fest, things are going well and i'm excited to share with you but i've hit a couple roadblocks and could use some inspiration~ do you have additional notes or preferences you would like to share?
Motorsport zine buddy! You're excited? I'm so excited to see what you've created!
As for inspiration, additional notes or preferences, it turns out my moots have inadvertently created an excellent primer on me by nailing my trademarks.
Your trademark, to me, is definitely feral behavior over George's hands
Your trademark is absolutely ‘oh fuck jewelry and watches’ lol
Hands, eyes, neck and everything belonging to a special #4
These go together so well. I mean, genuinely, you could fill an entire zine with pictures of George's hands and George with a watch visible and George with his sleeves rolled up and I would go fucking nuts for it. Throw in some of Lando's bracelets and necklaces, and Daniel's rings (“let's fuck" beloved) and chains, and I'll be gnawing live wires.
Also, photos by Mario Renzi: yes yes yes
Also also, anything I write or rec or reblog on @parcfermekisses is a thousand percent in my wheelhouse. Not just for the pairing, but for the way the characters are portrayed, the tropes etc, etc. There is no half-arsed 'eh, I liked it well enough' or 'I think I'm going to like it when I get round to reading it' over there – I love it or it doesn't make it.
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One Up (Homelander x Reader)
A scene that has been rattling in my brain that I needed to get out. [Ao3 link]
Homelander catches you calling him your boyfriend | Homelander x reader, gender neutral reader. No warnings beyond Homelander being Homelander and language.
"Well- Homelander and I are dating." You snap out, not even knowing why you said it in the first place. All you know is that you wanted to one-up that stick-up-his-ass HR brat bragging about banging a D-list supe.
"We're going to go-", You pause because the amusingly shocked faces within the cluster of your co-workers morph into various levels of fear and unease. You sense him before he speaks; prey tensing up as a predator draws close.
"Well- Homelander and I are dating." You snap out, not even knowing why you said it in the first place. All you know is that you wanted to one-up that stick-up-his-ass HR brat bragging about banging a D-list supe.
"We're going to go-", You pause because the amusingly shocked faces within the cluster of your co-workers morph into various levels of fear and unease. You sense him before he speaks; prey tensing up as a predator draws close.
"Hey sweetheart," He purrs the words close to your ear as Homelander leans in from behind you. "What are ya gossiping about?" He heard you and your false claim. Of course, he fucking heard you.
"I- Oh." Instantly, color blooms over your face as you turn your head enough to glance at him. He's painfully close, the heat of Homelander palpable against your cheek. Turn your head a little more and you could kiss him.
You'd never dare. Your words have been damning enough.
"N-nothing, babe." You stammer out, tugging a smile into place as your heart jackhammers within your chest.
Homelander settles a hand on the back of your neck with a soft creak sounding from the leather his gloves are made out of. The action is possessive; which sends a thrill straight down your spine. The sort of thrill one gets when the roller coaster harness feels a little too loose to be safe.
One finger slides up and circles the skin of your neck briefly as your breath catches in the back of your throat.
You snap your gaze forward back to your co-workers who hang about in stunned silence. With Homelander backing you up, the skepticism is bleeding away before your eyes.
Nancy from IT breaks the silence, "I didn't realize you two were a couple!" She presses on, voice cheerful. "I can't wait to hear how that happened."
"It's a funny story," Homelander interjects, voice smooth and dripping with his camera-ready charm. The sort that hides his fangs. "Maybe we'll share it sometime."
Homelander's hold tightens, fingers digging in with a grip that could pop your head right off your shoulders. The threat is clear. Comply or else. The laugh Homelander releases is in stark contrast, jovial and warm with a flash of those white white teeth at your co-workers.
Your co-workers laugh along automatically because everyone in the office knows to appease this erratic supe, or else they end up another mistake for Vought to sweep under the rug.
"Alright," Homelander clips out as he abruptly drops his hold from your neck.
"Don't forget our plans for tonight, babe." With a wink in your direction and another fanged smile at your coworkers, Homelander sweeps away.
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