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#i know putting american football on there is a given but still
skeeverboy · 5 months
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what are some of my fav album covers ahahaha i’m glad you asked
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ham1lton · 7 days
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fight for this love.
pairings: jude bellingham x f1 driver!reader
warnings: nothing!
faceclaim: bella hadid.
summary: jude meets you at a promotional event for a brand you both have a deal with. after the first meeting, he’s smitten, but there is a problem. he never got your number.
— part three of my 500 followers celebration ♡ —
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liked by gucci, judesgf and 1,028,728 others.
vogue: gucci’s newest ambassador, footballer jude bellingham, spills the beans (no pun intended) on his fav outfit combo, his ideal type and his favourite kebab place back home in birmingham.
user1: NEED HIM SO BAD 😍😍😍😩😩😩
user8: brb going to buy out gucci rn.
user7: WAIT…. his ideal type???
-> user9: it’s lowkey kind of boring. specific but not specific. he says he loves girls who are focused, smart and have good relationships with their friends and family.
-> user7: check, check and CHECK 😩 brb calling up my deadbeat dad rq just for u jude 😘😍
user6: gucci king we love him.
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liked by yourbffname, oscarpiastri and 1,237,665 others.
yourusername: gucci loves me and i love gucci ♥︎ thank u to the whole gucci team for having me alongside the other ambassadors at today’s event! it was so much fun!
oscarpiastri: you had the entire gucci catalogue to choose from and you still chose to dress like an ailing grandfather.
-> yourusername: drip or drown baby!
-> oscarpiastri: you’re the latter.
user1: i met you today at the gucci event!! you were so sweet. i was the one who gave u the bracelet! 🫶🏼
-> yourusername: yes!! thank u sm!! it was so cute and matched my outfit so well. i’m still wearing it!
logansargeant: when are you hooking me up with free gucci 🤨😒 we’ve been friends for more than a decade ms l/n….
-> yourusername: lemme work my magic 🙈✨
user78: she should have been a model instead of a formula one driver!! so pretty!! that bone structure 🤤
user7: did you see jude looking at her throughout the whole damn event? omg. he’s down bad.
-> user63: bro was simping 😭 i don’t blame him. i mean… it’s y/n.
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liked by oscarpiastri, yourbffname and 1,237,765 others.
judebellingham: took these pics last night. whoever my midnight muse was, please message me.
oscarpiastri: i know her mate. it’s landonorris.
-> landonorris: yes ‘tis i, your gucci girl 🥰
logansargeant: it’s yourusername, man. thank you for this. now she’ll stop talking about you in the gc 🙄🙄
-> user7: american and british solidarity.
user8: need a man willing to do a worldwide search for me.
-> user26: commit a crime, flee and you’ll get a whole fleet of men doing that for you <3
user12: oh to be jude bellingham’s midnight muse.
user90: how does bro not know the current world champion and first female f1 driver to break many barriers in the sport?? like she’s a household name 😭
-> user25: chronically offline 😭
yourusername: hi!! it’s me! these photos are gorgeous! yes, please message me <3 also ignore oscar, logan and lando in your comments please. they have no home training.
-> logansargeant: you could have stopped me if you had given me the gucci u promised 🤨
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liked by judebellingham, ynswifey and 1,272,892 others.
yourusername: i felt like my paddock outfit just wasn’t appreciated enough today.
oscarpiastri: this is all you post after your win?
-> yourusername: i put a lot of effort into this outfit! only charles said something. 😔
-> oscarpiastri: wow! y/n! jeans and a t-shirt! revolutionary!
-> yourusername: i’m gonna pretend that wasn’t sarcastic 😝🥰
user728: oscar doesn’t see the vision. this is super cute!!
user267: her posting this after she just hard launched her relationship with jude?!
-> user128: like girlie straight up jumped and kissed him after her win and hasn’t even acknowledged it???
judebellingham: u look so good.
-> user682: you couldn’t have texted her this shit? lmaoooooo.
user516: i appreciated it!!
-> yourusername: i love u sm 🫶🏼😍
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liked by ynsgf, zendaya and 1,727,982 others.
yourusername: tried to find out if blondes do truly have more fun. answer tbd.
— 📸 creds - my bf.
judebellingham: that’s ME in the caption btw.
-> yourusername: we know babe 😁🥰😝
gucci: i guess we’re matchmakers now?
-> logansargeant: YASSS 😩 now can i get free gucci or no 🤨
-> oscarpiastri: crazy emoji use man 😭 is it ever that serious.
judebellingham: i love you so much.
-> yourusername: love u forever. glad to be urs. 💕🫶🏻
user1: she ate this down we love a bad bitch and her supportive bf!
user71: him flying her out after she wins the championship!!! we love this for her!!
user16: why can’t i have a hot gf, be sexy, be rich, one of the most promising young athletes currently and be lounging on a beach somewhere…
-> user72: why can’t i have a hot bf, be sexy, be rich, one of the most promising young athletes currently and be lounging on a beach somewhere…
user68: we love a blonde moment!
-> yourusername: halfway through our holiday, i saw zendaya, rihanna and beyoncé go blonde and got extreme fomo.
-> judebellingham: she made me dye it. i was terrified.
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author’s note: reader here is heavily based off of what it would have been if nepo!sis reader was the driver instead of o/s but in that universe, she never would have dated lando. so… small blessings ig?
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lazycats-stuff · 9 months
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can i request a scenario where the reader, who has been trained as a weapon for most of their life, struggles with expressing their emotions. The reader has been adopted by the Batfamily and is injured during a mission. They try to hide their injuries, but Dick or Jason (or both) find out and scold the reader for keeping it a secret. The reader responds by saying that they didn't think it was a big deal. it was a big deal. So it’s fluff and angst. The scenario can end with the Batfamily having a movie night after patching the reader up to help them feel better. If the scenario crosses any boundaries, please feel free to change anything necessary.
Don't worry, everything is well within my boundaries. And also, thank you for 500 followers! I still don't know how I managed that with what I call writing.
Summary: (Y/N) hides his emotions. After an injury, Jason and Dick can't stand it.
Warnings: medical inaccuracies, mentions of training before the batfam, Dick and Jason being good brothers, (Y/N) being emotionally constipated, Bruce trying to get closer to (Y/N), angst, fluff
Also, this is such a cool gif, (V/N)= Vigilante name
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A weapon. That's all that he was taught. That's all he could remember. A weapon has no emotions, he remembers them saying. A weapon needs to fit in wherever they are. He was always told that his emotions don't matter, that the missions matter more. The goal was more important.
For a long time that's what he was told. His chances of fighting against his handlers are non existent. His chances at normal life were non existent.
That was until a mission in Gotham.
Batman and his birds somehow managed to capture him. (Y/N) still doesn't know how they managed to find him in Gotham. He blended with the shadows, just like he was taught. (Y/N) then realized why Batman was called the detective and why he was so respected and feared in their world.
(Y/N) also didn't expect to be adopted by Bruce Wayne, a man who turned out to be Batman. And more so, (Y/N) didn't expect to have choices. What to wear, what to eat, even when to wake up.
(Y/N) was never given a choice.
It felt nice knowing that he had some sort of control over his life. For the first time ever. And everyone introduced him to a lot of his firsts. Disney movies and cartoons, different kinds of candy since he wasn't allow sugar, books that are not literature classics and playing sports like basketball, football, but not American.
And it was great, but one thing that his new found family couldn't do was make him show emotions. (Y/N) still struggled with that. No matter how much he was told that it was fine and that it wasn't a sign of weakness, he couldn't do it.
One more thing they noticed how he was dismissive of certain things. They couldn't get him to rest, not even when he was sick. Not even the flu could keep him resting. Bruce had to put his foot down when (Y/N) said he wanted to go on patrol while he had a flu.
Bruce was going to maim the people who raised him in that way. Jason and Dick are going to help him too.
(Y/N) emotional unavailability hit a breaking point when he was injured. They were out on patrol and all of a sudden, they were ambushed by Deathstroke and some of Ra's assassins. (Y/N) see a fight from a mile away.
He still didn't know how Deathstroke managed to freelance for Ra's al Ghoul. Deathstroke watched him with his good eye, clearly interested in him for being a new member of the Batfamily. But there was also some sort of familiarity.
"Good job detective. You managed to adopt (V/N), a living weapon. " Deathstroke said, parading up on the railing. (Y/N) didn't say anything to that, but he could sense Bruce's anger rolling off him in waves.
Dick gripped his batons tighter and Jason gripped his gun tighter. (Y/N)'s eye were back on Deathstroke's and the two locked eyes once more.
" (V/N) is not a weapon Slade. " Jason jumped to (Y/N)'s defense.
" Well, the rest of the criminal world doesn't think so. (V/N) was known as the boogeyman, the one thing you don't want to find in the dark. " Deathstroke said, taking his blade out of his holster.
" I, up until now, never had a chance to fight against (V/N). But I will have a chance to kill him. " He finished, jumping over it. The other assassins followed his lead and jumped right after him.
(Y/N) had some experience with Ra's al Ghoul's assassins. Thankfully, Ra's had enough respect for (Y/N) and decided to leave him alone and not kill him. But it seems that the tables have turned on that matter.
The family tensed up and Jason pushed (Y/N) behind him a little bit.
" What does Ra's have with (V/N)? Why do you need his help to kill him? " Batman questioned, also moving to the front to cover (Y/N).
" It doesn't matter detective. What matters is that he is dead tonight."
Batman went after Deathstroke, not going to allow him to go after (Y/N). The young vigilante wanted to go after Deathstroke, but the two assassins jumped in front of him and (Y/N) was forced to deal with them. What a nuisance.
He fought alongside Jason, before moving to fight alongside Damian. Bruce and Slade still fought with all of their might. (Y/N) said screw it and jumped into the fight with Deathstroke and Batman.
He wasn't going to allow Deathstroke to win. And if he wants to kill him, why not give him a fair shot. Deathstroke's good eye locked with (Y/N)'s and (Y/N) went at it.
Batman wanted to stop (Y/N), but once (Y/N) got into a fighting mode, it was impossible to stop him. Bruce and (Y/N) worked together, but Deathstroke was just as equally good.
(Y/N) was thrown back with a nasty kick to the stomach, making him cough and spit out blood. He grunted, ready to strike back regardless. He was always taught to suppress the pain and just keep on going.
He dodged a punch before landing a punch on Deathstroke's mask, knocking off of his head. Batman swopped in and finished him off. (Y/N) got back into a fight Ra's assassins, dodging through their blades, helping others finished them off.
After it was all said and done, they called the GCPD to pick them up.
" Good job everyone, lets get home. " Batman said, gathering them all up.
" Thank God. We spent way too much time here anyway. " Jason said, already going out. (Y/N) couldn't agree anymore. He feels like something is off with himself. He could always tell, even before it hit him out of nowhere.
" Come on, (V/N). " Dick said, passing by (Y/N).
(Y/N) managed to sneak up out of the cave. He hoped that he was unnoticed. He knew that something was off. He knew that his ribs were fractured, but not broken.
He didn't want to do this in front of anyone and besides, he knows how to treat them. He has done it time and time again. He went to his bathroom and squatted down to get the tapes. Thankfully, it didn't hurt this really bad.
Then he opened the mirror and took a pill for the pain. He put a shirt on and was ready to go out for ice, but a knock on his door made him freeze.
" (Y/N)? We know you are here, you didn't get checked out by Alfred and you suffered a nasty kick to the stomach. " Jason said, voice muffled by the door.
" I'm fine, suit absorbed the kick. " (Y/N) lied, putting the tape away.
" (Y/N), I have a great bullshit detector and you just activated it. " Jason said, opening the door of his room, Dick following him. Jason and Dick looked at him before Jason pointed at the shirt.
" Come on. Off. "
" Nope. "
" (Y/N). Please don't tell me you are hiding an injury. "Dick said, hoping that it wasn't true.
" It's not a big deal. " (Y/N) mumbled.
" It is! I mean, we can patch you up! Is it a question of vulnerability? " Dick said, moving closer to (Y/N).
" Also, if it's the stomach or the ribs, you need to check it out. " Jason added, trying to deescalate the situation.
" Guys, I'm fi- "
" (Y/N), I swear to God, say that you are fine and I will manhandle you and patch you up roughly. " Jason said, rubbing his forehead.
" (Y/N), injuries here are a big deal. We patch each other up and that way we help each other out. I know it's not easy to forget the habits that were installed in you, Damian is a living proof of that. But you have to let others in. You are our brother and we love you. Some might not show it, but they do. " Dick said, putting his hand on (Y/N) shoulder.
" And when we patch each other up, we strengthen that love and trust. We protect each other and trust each other. And again, I know it's hard to go against everything that was installed in you, but this is a safe place. " Jason added, helping Dick with his point.
" Come on, lets get you checked out. " Jason said, opening the bedroom door.
Dick told everyone about (Y/N) hiding his injuries and suggested a movie night to make (Y/N) feel better. The others didn't like that fact. How come they didn't notice it before? How many times was (Y/N) in pain and they didn't notice?
" How about a movie night? Maybe a Harry Potter marathon? " Jason suggested, already taking the blankets and extending the couch that will make sure to fit them all.
" Okay, bring more pillows Tim. " Jason said to Tim.
" Somebody can bring some snacks. Some chocolate for (Y/N). " Jason said, arranging the blankets. Tim got up and started walking to the kitchen.
" Damian, you are going to give him talk later about hiding injuries. " Jason said, making Damian huff.
" Don't huff at me. " Jason warned. Tim came back with the pillows and put them all around.
Dick, (Y/N) and Alfred came back a few moments later. Dick was all smiles as he led (Y/N) to the couch. " Now (Y/N), lay down. "
" They know, don't they? " (Y/N) said, looking at the all smiling Dick.
" We told them, but they are not judging you. " Dick answered.
(Y/N) didn't say anything, instead he laid down on the couch, taking a blanket, covering himself. Bruce laid down next to him and the other followed quickly. Even Alfred joined.
Bruce laid down next to (Y/N), moving his arm to put it behind (Y/N). Then he put his arm around (Y/N)'s shoulder, bringing him closer to him. (Y/N) was a but startled, but relaxed into the touch. Even more, he leaned his head down on Bruce's shoulder.
Everyone noticed it and everyone was happy. Maybe he will be finally be happy and less emotionally unavailable. Maybe (Y/N) will be able to let go of the demons hunting him.
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wileys-russo · 7 months
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leah blurb where she takes you on an arcade date?? sucker for an arcade date and you just know she’d be so cocky about winning games
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a deals a deal II l.williamson
"where'd you find this place?" you smiled in awe as you followed leah into the arcade, the blonde not missing the ways your eyes had lit up the moment the two of you had even parked outside.
it having been her turn to organize date night she reveled in the fact that it was already seeming to be a success, the older girl knew you like the back of her hand.
with both of you working full time, leah as a footballer and you as a primary teacher you both made a commitment the moment things started getting serious that despite your hectic schedules you'd still try to keep consistent with spending quality time outside of work together.
"lotte put me onto it." leah admitted as you gasped sarcastically. "and you're not even taking the credit? oh baby i'm so proud of you!" you cooed mockingly as the taller girl shoved you playfully, the two of you making your way to the counter.
"i'll be taking credit for all the games i'm about to smash you at my girl, don't worry about that." leah smiled smugly as you rolled your eyes and she hooked you both up with a large bag of tokens. given neither of you liked to lose and were incredibly competitive, it was sure to be an interesting night.
"consider tonight endless tokens, if you can spend them i will buy them gorgeous." leah promised, pecking your lips sweetly and offering for you to pick the first game. "mm what do i want to beat you at first?" you pondered, stroking your chin as leah sighed dramatically at the time you were taking.
"basketball. start off simple!" you decided, grabbing your girlfriends hand and dragging her over, the blonde yanking you back as a gang of young boys sprinted past almost smashing into you, leah looking after them with a scowl.
"need i remind you this place is actually designed for kids baby, relax." you smiled poking at her cheeks as she huffed air out of her nose but focused her attention back on you, both of you slipping tokens into your sides as the game lit up and a strong american accent blasted encouragement.
"go!" leah called as the buzzer sounded, both of you scrambling to grab the balls, zoned in on your own rings as the points started to rack up for both of you. leah snuck a quick glance to your side, eyes widening seeing you were in the lead.
"oi!" you gasped as the defender leaned over and knocked the ball out of your hand, doing it again as you reached for another. "leah!" you laughed at her competitiveness, shoving her as the final buzzer for the game sounded and the blonde cheered victoriously.
"you are such a cheat." you shook your head with a smile as leah did a small victory dance, snatching her tickets and shoving them into her pocket. "right care to make this interesting then?" you challenged, crossing your arms over your chest.
"mm what do you have in mind?" leah raised an eyebrow curiously, cocky smirk still curled into her features. "if i win, you do all the dishes and the laundry for a month." you offered, leahs jaw dropping and your smile widening knowing she detested the two tasks and would often offer you anything in return for not having to do them.
"a month!? nah two weeks max." "scared you'll lose baby?" "no! fine, a month then."
"but if i win...you have to do that thing i've been asking you for since christmas." leah cocked her head to the side, storm blue eyes roaming over your body hungrily as you frowned before it clicked exactly what she was after.
both half jokingly and half seriously the blonde had gifted you a very ill fitting maids costume for christmas, stating as part of your gift to her you should spend the day wearing it, claiming it would be great motivation for her to join you in doing the housework.
you only laughed and put it away, but every now and then she'd find it and once again the begging would start for you to live out what was clearly a fantasy for the taller girl, and each time you'd just teasingly shake your head, leaving her without a real answer.
"fine, deal's a deal." you shrugged in agreement which was clearly to your girlfriends surprise as her eyebrows shot up in shock and you extended your hand.
"deals a deal." the blonde shook your hand but not before using it to pull your body into hers, stealing a kiss and nipping at your bottom lip, pulling away with a cheeky grin as your head spun and your cheeks flushed pink.
"right, my turn to pick then."
~
"how the hell do you even do this!" leah huffed, the two of you sat on motorbikes as you raced around the track on the screens in front of you, the girl beside you far from getting the hang of it despite it being the second time you'd raced, leah demanding a rematch.
"like this, winner!" you cheered loudly, pumping your fists in the air as you zoomed across the finish line sitting back smugly as leahs eyebrows furrowed into a deep frown and she smacked at the handle bars in annoyance. "loser." you pointed to her now as she flipped you off.
"maybe i should get a motorbike." you teased, turning your body as leah jumped off the bike, appearing instantly in between your legs as you stayed sitting. "over my dead body, maybe focus on learning how to drive a car first babe." leah teased making you roll your eyes.
"i'm a great driver thank you very much." "those handful of fines in your glovebox say differently." "those are parking fines leah not driving offences." "oh i'm so sorry. correction then not only are you a shit driver but you're an appalling parker as well, can't even be trusted when the car is stationary!" leah tutted with a dissapointed shake of her head as you smacked her shoulder and playfully shoved her away.
"sorry score check, whose winning?" you asked, cupping a hand over your ear and leaning toward leah whose smile dropped. "shut up." she mumbled with a small pout, the two of you wandering around for a moment as leah took her time choosing.
"perfect!" the taller girl grinned spotting a football shootout game in the back corner. "and how many goals do defenders normally score?" you hummed, pretending to be lost in thought as leah slotted in some tokens and rolled her eyes.
"don't be bitter that they don't have a teaching game babe." leah pouted sarcastically at your chosen career, you now the one to flip her off and gesture for her to start. "go on then superstar."
you had to hide your smile behind your hand as leah missed many more kicks than she scored, watching as her shots became sloppier the more wound up and angry she got when they missed. "nah this is bullshit that's rigged!" leah scowled, kicking at the machine once her turn was over.
"leah!" you scolded, moving her away from causing actual damage. "it's a stupid arcade game, you're still a champion of europe baby." you grabbed at her face, placing a soft kiss to her lips and feeling her body relax somewhat.
"...its just a good thing they didn't need you for any penalties." "oi, uncalled for!"
~
"right, this ones the final game." leah glanced at the time and announced with a clap, the two of you so caught up you'd not even realized the time and how long you'd been here.
"oh how convenient, we're tied." you rolled your eyes, not believing that the score card leah had been in charge of was really all that accurate, having been typed up in notes on her phone.
"and what is that supposed to mean?" "i'm accusing you of score tampering, williamson." "no idea what on earth you're on about love, i'll even be so kind as to forfeit my turn so that you choose our last game." "wow, and they say chivalry is dead."
"mmm that one." you nodded to a shooting game in the corner you'd not yet tried, leah humming in agreement as you made your way over. "was that your stomach?" you asked in disbelief hearing a loud gurgle.
"yes! i'm fucking starving." leah moped with a huff, earning herself an unimpressed look from a mother standing at the next game with her two young kids, you smacking leah lightly and mumbling about her language.
"sorry miss." your girlfriend teased with a cocky smile as you rolled your eyes and gestured for her to take her turn. the gunner shot down 8 tin ducks out of 12 and shrugged, seemingly happy with her efforts.
"beat that, four eyes." leah smirked, flicking at your ear as you smacked away her hands and shot her an evil glare.
you only wore your glasses when you were using your laptop, reading or occasionally when teaching, and as much as leah found you utterly adorable in them the english captain also would never miss an opportunity to rib you about your poor eyesight.
"happily, noodle legs." you quipped back with a smile, grabbing the gun as leah mocked you under her breath and ordered for you to hurry up as her stomach rumbled again.
closing one eye you balanced the toy gun on your arm as the game commenced, shooting down six ducks with ease, a few more to go and you'd win.
however as you placed your finger on the trigger, the timer counting down from ten, a set of hands wrapped themselves around your waist, one hand in particular slipping up the inside of your top and suddenly squeezing at one of your boobs.
in shock at the unexpected touch you squeezed the trigger and dropped the toy gun, missing the ducks by a mile as the timer went off and leah's hands suddenly disappeared, your skin burning where they'd once been.
"that is so not fair!" you protested, turning on your heel to glare towards a smug looking leah, poking at her chest angrily. "don't know what you're talking about gorgeous, guess your aim was just off." the blonde simply smiled cockily, knowing she'd now won.
though sensing her girlfriends growing annoyance leah reached for your hand, pulling your body into hers and stepping the two of you in between two pinball machines, briefly tucked away from sight.
"leah catherine williamson you are an unbearably bad loser and-" not even giving you the time to finish your sentence the taller girl cut you off by bringing your lips together, pressing your body against the arcade wall.
leahs hands settling themselves on your hips tucked away under her jacket you'd stolen from her earlier in the night, the defender slowly swiped her tongue against your bottom lip, taking control of the kiss as your arms wrapped around the back of her neck, tangling themselves in her blonde locks.
though before the two of you got any further carried away someone winning a game meant a loud siren went off behind you, the two of you jumping away from one another in shock at the abrupt noise, sharing a look before breaking out into soft laughter.
"come on hangry, lets go get you some food then." you smiled as leahs stomach rumbled yet again, previous annoyance melting away as it always did when it came to the mischievous footballer you were head over heels for.
"no i think we should head home, i'm hungry for something else now." leah murmered quietly, thumb stroking your jaw, lips curling into a smug smile at how your cheeks flushed scarlet at her suggestive tone.
"plus i think you're due for a little outfit change baby girl. a deal's a deal, right?"
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lovelyghst · 1 month
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Your last ask about hungry simon and eating your leftovers just warmed my heart!
Like he would have a field day with me cause I can't eat much in one sitting but get hungry easily and sadly get sick fast if I can't eat.
Just Imagine him always having safe snacks on hand and loving strolling around and getting snacks from vendors and such and he just gets more than half of everything cause you get full so fast
Or
Hear me out
You're always cooking for a football team portion wise and and and him praising the food and just really loving it (not me with a praise kink) and you're just glad it doesnt go to waste and he gets to feel full and satisfied
~🍯
[one, two, three.]
honestly!! simon has to carry snacks around with him twenty-four/seven. like, bag of pretzels being dwarfed by his giant palm while he’s walking around the house, emptying a large bag of beef/steak jerky every day and a whole carton of eggs every two days.
being eyed by the employees of a store while you try on clothes because food and drinks aren’t allowed in store yet none of the staff want to be the one to confront the six-foot-four, intimidating, hulking man with an apple in his hand as he watches you do a twirl for him.
and you’re so real for the last part! si has manners, undoubtedly, and he won’t hesitate to let you know how much he appreciates you and your hard work; he’d be such a fool not to.
just walking into his home office while he’s working at his desk, bowl of cut up strawberries and kiwis in hand for him to munch on as you find your place in his lap, possibly for a quick nap. bonus points if you cut the fruits up into little shapes or cover them in melted chocolate.
he gives the best hugs; it’s a given, considering his mass, and he could never say no to the sensation of your arms wrapped around his neck, pretty face buried in his collar, and the calming rhythm of your breathing against his chest reminding him that he could use a break, too.
he loves the effort you put in for him when he doesn’t even ask, and he always makes sure to pay you back for it. sometimes it tugs so severely at his heartstrings that, despite never wanting children or anything of the sort, he suddenly wants to make you a parent. only with him, and so fucking bad that it makes him sick.
but anyways my american brain is taking over and imagine going to a state fair or carnival with him, or just any theme park in general. you know he’s already getting in line for a vendor while he still has the prior’s food in his hand. the idea of him carrying around one of those ginormous turkey legs is so silly to me.
you’re going home with the half-dozen giant stuffed animals he won for you at the shooting games while he’s balancing two funnel cakes and an elephant ear in one hand, and your bag, filled with various sweets and memorabilia, in the other as you hike back to the car.
also, in my mind retired simon would still work as a consultant on a nearby military base a few days of the month or whenever he’s needed, and now i’m thinking about packing him nice lunches for those days, and how absolutely adorable he finds it. he’s glad he still has his own desk because the little love notes you leave in his box quite literally have his heart racing and knees buckling.
guys the demons are winning and now i can’t stop thinking about how good of a (girl!) dad he would be. i’m in shambles.
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osaka-lilac · 2 months
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Asking you to kindly elaborate on the strollonso football au:
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hello raapija my beloved, i would love to elaborate <3
for those out of the loop, refer to my tags on this post!
warning: i am an american with a incredibly basic understanding of footy ("soccer"). there is a reason the actual talk of any gameplay is basic and limited
fernando is this new guy to Lawrence Stroll's footy team right. (because in every universe, lawrence has to own a Team.) i can imagine he's some draft pick from spain for a new striker or something like that. possibly some trade, maybe a mid-season exchange (they do that in american football but idk if they do that in footy) those who know specifics of positions in footy please let me know your thoughts on what position fernando would play
lance: couldn't give two shits about footy. he's seen maybe once in a blue moon on the sidelines tagging along, and he's known for being visibly bored or on his phone during matches. (he has the Pout Blast 3000 for this.)
the reputation he receives from fans is much like the perceived impressions he gets irl: some spoiled kid who shouldn't be there. he's more into hockey than any match his dad's team could ever play.
now when fernando shows up its like a fucking slap to the face. like. "holy fuck i didn't think they could be this hot" type beat.
for the first time, lance shows up to a team practice with his father, not just a match. but he's really not there for the team: he is enamored by fernando. his speed. he's a sly yet devilishly handsome fucker with this wicked grin when he knows he's tricked his opponent yet again, and lance is obsessed.
not only does he start going to way more matches. he also starts showing visible interest and gets invested. and he gets loud. the mumbles online about his "spoiled reputation" turn to joy. he becomes a meme of the team for a few weeks after a clip of him getting frustrated after a poorly-called card is given to fernando ends up going viral.
and maybe this entire time, fernando has been watching this young boy from afar. he totally believes he can't be with his literal manager's young son and jeopardize his spot on the team and a shot at glory. and maybe he believes that lance initially isn't interested. but maybe when he sees lance become more invested in the team, he figures he might have a chance. he just can't figure out why lance has become so invested in what was, quite frankly, a very short amount of time.
so maybe fernando's on the side for a while in a practice. lance is there, but he seems distant. not in the game. not really watching the drills by the other players with much enthusiasm. and fernando's a smart man. and he puts some pieces together in his brain. and makes a move.
he comes up to lance and asks to talk with him once practice is done. when all the other players are gone. in the locker room. of course lance agrees
flash forward a bit. n lance is like. hanging out by the exit outside of the locker room. he counts all the players. and when there's only one left. he goes inside. finds fernando sitting on one of the benches, still in his kit.
they get to talking. what lance does outside of being at games, (i can imagine him being a student but i don't have the will to kin assign him a major right now), what his favorite hockey team is (habs. of course) and of course, the loaded question:
"lancito, what's gotten you so interested in the team now?"
of course, lance doesn't really respond to this, kinda dances around the question. he gets flustered. he doesn't want to be found out. what if he sees right through him, what if he already knows, what if he tells his dad??
fernando leans in slightly, and slides his hand over lance's hip. he cups his chin softly, and slowly turns lance's head to look at fernando straight on.
"be honest, niñito."
and when has lance ever been anything but honest.
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notsopersonalcharlie · 3 months
Text
Mid-Game Superstitions
(American) Football Star!Bucky Barnes x gn!reader
Note: Based on this idea I had watching the game last night and inspired by the fact that I like watching the sports ball sometimes. I'd apologize for the length but I wouldn't really mean it :)
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You were nervous as all hell, nearly bit off your press ons in the car. It had been pandemonium when you arrived with the other partners, some of the wives coming with their kids in separate cars, but most of you all together. A few of them had done it before, been to a Super Bowl as the second most important people in the stadium, and Peggy had clasped a hand around your forearm as you stepped out of the limo.
You were glad for the anchor against all of the screaming. To your surprise people weren't just screaming for Peggy, or Sam's supermodel girlfriend, but they knew you too. It was delightful if not a little off-putting as you all posed to people screaming your name each of you wearing some form of the team's colors, red, white, and blue.
You'd gotten used to the hubbub of metal detectors and being ushered in a pack of security guards up to the box designated for all of you. Once things had calmed down, and you'd all taken copious numbers of photos and got drinks, you slipped away from the people you'd well and truly decided were your friends after a year of breathless wins and harrowing injuries, and made your way over to one of the security guards by the door. There were two at the door and one moving around the room, just in case anyone got by the first two.
"Uhm, excuse me?" The man turned. He was massive, but you were no more intimidated by him than by Bucky or any of the other equally massive players on the team. You'd learned through the season that the sweeter you were, the quicker you got things.
"What can I do for you?"
"I usually go down to meet my husband outside the locker room during half time. I just wanted to make sure there was an easy way to get there and that you knew beforehand!" Usually that's all it took, a smile and a little shrug. Today though, the man frowned and leaned back out the door to say something to his partner, you didn't catch it all, but he said something about security and concerns. When he turned back around he was still frowning.
"I'm sorry, I have to check with the rest of the security team. They're running things a little militant around here."
"Oh, I know a thing or two about militant! Bucky and Steve were in the Army before they joined the league. I'm sure there will be some way we can make it happen." You hoped you sounded confident, but not too forceful. You were already antsy from not being able to see him right before the game like normal, but you knew this was not a normal game. He nodded with a small smile and stepped outside, the door closing behind him. You loitered there, glancing back at the rest of the teams partners, many of whom had looked back over at you and given you hopeful thumbs ups.
It hadn't seemed like a big thing in the beginning of the season, the stop by the locker room at half time. It was Steve's fourth season in the league, second as first string quarterback. Bucky had played tight end in high school and college, and Steve had practically begged when the Commandos were planning their draft picks to get his best friend on the team. He would have done anything to keep Bucky playing, that included letting you sneak down to give him a mid-game pep talk and kiss.
It wasn't until it was clear they were going to the playoffs that the players and their partners noticed that the games you weren't there or the games where you weren't able to follow through with the ritual between the halves, the Howling Commandos would lose. It wasn't a perfect measure, and it didn't even seem like the team played worse when you weren't down there, it was just like there was one missing piece.
The door reopened and the man seemed surprised to see you still standing there.
"I'm really sorry, but we've been told we're not allowed to take anyone down there between the game. There's too much chaos with the half time show dancers and teams." You floundered for an excuse, but 'they're going to lose if I don't' seemed pretty weak, so you were left standing there when he closed the door.
"Darling? What did they say?" You turned to meet Peggy's eye and shook your head.
"Oh dear." Most of the rest of the box seemed to have caught on and pats on the back were accompanied by nervous looks. Even though it had been your ritual with Bucky, it had kind of become the whole team's ritual. Peggy said Steve had mentioned that it wasn't that Bucky played worse when you didn't go down, it was his dark expression and lack of usual energy and camaraderie that brought them all down.
"I'm sure it'll be ok!" someone's wife called, "They're going to be so caught up in the game that they won't even have time to dwell on it. They've been practicing so hard." Before you could have too long a thought about it, they were called your attention back to the field and you watched them run out onto the field, all of you hooting and hollering as you saw your boys get on the field.
-/-/-/-/-/-
Bucky was ecstatic coming off the field during the half time. They were up by one touchdown and the energy was electric, every single move gained praise.
"Everyone take ten, do not, and I repeat! Do Not! Think about sitting for longer than five of those minutes. We'll huddle up then." Coach Fury lived up the name, but he kept them all ready to play.
"Buck, you are a beast out there man! Insane!" Sam practically bowled him over with the unexpected chest bump.
"Me? What about you!" Bucky gathered up a bottle of water and Gatorade, wiping away sweat and grass stains before slipping off down the hall to the way they had come in. There were a few people loitering around and security by the load, but he didn't spot you.
"Scuse me." One of the security guards turned and his eyes widened.
"Ma-Sir, you have to go back in the locker room."
"Oh, I'm just checking if my partner came down here. They usually do. Black jeans, shirt with my name on the back?"
"Sorry sir, we aren't allowed to let anyone but the half time crew in here. No one was allowed down." Bucky frowned.
"But-" He was cut off by loud music and the security guard shook his head, practically backing him towards the locker room again. Steve couldn't help but spot Bucky hanging his head and nearly swore out loud. He knew that look.
-/-/-/-/-/-
When all was said and done, they had fought hard, but the other team had a few last tricks up their sleeve. All of you had made your way down to the back doorway, where the players had come in and gone out, and were waiting for your freshly showered, if not very dejected football players. Bucky and Steve were nearly always the last ones out of the locker room, and Peggy and you waited patiently as they began to stream out. Sam was the first to say it, but it came like a steady stream after.
"They shoulda let you down here." It wasn't a specific blame, not on Bucky and not on you, but mid-game rituals were habits, and the habit might have cost the team the game. Finally, very last, you spotted the duo coming out, hair wet and heads handing.
"Hey peach," Bucky sighed, falling into your open arms and pressing his face into your neck.
"Hi Buck. You played great." He mumbled something against the hem of your shirt that sounded something like 'could'a played better' and you kissed the top his head, the smell of his conditioner reminding you of home.
"Next time," Steve said as he and Peggy began to walk away, "Next time I am telling the security team that you gotta come down no matter what." You could feel Bucky smile.
"Next time," he said as he pulled himself away from you, "If they don't let you come down, I'm coming up."
"Next time Buck." He leaned down and pressed a warm kiss to your lips.
"Let's go home."
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thebirdandthebee · 2 years
Note
I saw that your requests are open so I have one!!! So for context reader is southern af and gets along with hangman because of it, but is dating bob and he gets jealous. Maybe a little angst and fluff?? Thank youuu
Thanks for sending this in!
Don't Touch My Boots
word count: 1.3kish
Bob Floyd was not Jake Seresin.
He knew that, Jake knew that, and anyone who interacted with either of them for any length of time could easily put that together.
Jake was tan skin, cocky smiles and sharp edges that women liked to test the sharpness of at the risk of injury.
Bob was knowing eyes, rounded shoulders and always gave the benefit of the doubt. They were all qualities that attracted you to him in the first place.
Though Jake was a feast for the eyes, Bob was handsome in a way that radiated comfort and stability - two things that made him irrevocably sexy in your eyes.
You did, however, have a lot in common with Jake. With him hailing from Texas and you from southern Oklahoma, there were just so many things you could chat about when the team got together. Your order at Buc-ees, how much better Austin is than Houston and college football.
“It was a fluke and it will remain a fluke because the Sooners are a dynasty,” you argued, a beer in your hand as you and Jake went at it yet again - your finger threatening to poke a hole through his collarbone.

“Just take the loss, sweetheart, chalk it up to skill,” Jake defended his beloved Longhorns. He’d get bragging rights this year.
“I swear on Brent Venables and the entire O-line, we’ve got next year by two touchdowns,” she threatened, holding up two fingers. Jake laughed, tapping his beer against hers and taking the bet. They continued on, sharing a loveseat on the deck at Penny’s where a big handful of aviators and crew were enjoying an evening drink with the ocean backdrop.
Bob watched on, half-heartedly listening as Phoenix re-told a story he had heard a hundred times before to the rest of the group. He trusted you inherently - that was a given. But you and Jake shared something he didn’t.
That, and Jake wasn’t always shy about the way he looked at you. Like tonight, Bob’s blue eyes had clocked the way Jake’s line of sight traveled up from your low-slung cowboy boots to the frayed hem of your jean shorts. You had draped one of Bob’s button-downs over your bare shoulders with a white tank top just sheer enough that he could make out the lace of your bra.
Bob could smell the coconut lotion you had lathered on before leaving your apartment earlier in the evening. And while it helped that Bob was the one to rub the shea butter into your skin, he knew Jake wouldn’t mind seeing how soft your skin was, either. His grip on his beer tightened, condensation rolling across his knuckles.
Sure he was grateful you got along with his team, given how much time you spent together, but he wouldn’t mind a bit more distance between the two of you.
His eyes cut back toward the two of you as Jake tugged the loop of your boot, pulling it up into his lap, continuing whatever he was talking about. He watched as you gave the blonde an unimpressed look, but smiled nonetheless as you rolled your eyes.
“They’re purely decoration!” Bob overheard Jake tease.
“We’re in San Diego, Seresin, did you think I was gonna break out my Tecovas?” She asked, giving him shit right back.
“Oh, Tecovas, I see,” Jake said, implying to Bob that Tecovas were some kind of fancy boot.
“Shut it, they were a gift!” He watched you laugh.
“Would hate for you to get sand in your Tecovas,” Jake put his hands up. You punched him in the shoulder.
“You’re such a fuckin’ cowboy,” you huffed.
“American made,” he winked, leaning back in the seat and draping his arm across the back of it before taking another pull of his beer. His fingertips dangled just above your bare shoulder where Bob’s shirt had slid off.
“You’re the worst,” you said, putting your hand on his knee to hoist yourself off the seat. “And the Longhorns still suck,” you stuck out your tongue at him. Bob watched as you neared, but his eyes were on Jake. The blonde took another drink and watched you walk away. “Jake Seresin an absolute clown,” you greeted, sliding your hands across Bob’s midsection and hugging him to you.
“We know,” Phoenix agreed, happily accepting you into the little group that surrounded a high top.
“Havin’ fun?” Bob asked quietly, jealousy clawing up his neck.
“I always have fun with you, Bobby,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “But I might be a little fun’d out,” you could feel a yawn coming on. It was getting late and you both were scheduled for early mornings.
Bob gladly downed the last inch of his drink before setting his glass on the table. 
“See ya,” Jake called, using two fingers to point at his eyes before doing the same to you. “I’ll be watching you, Sooner.”
“Later, Longhorn!” You waved him off, sliding your hand down into one of Bob’s back pockets to give him a playful squeeze. Bob held your car door open for you before running around to drop into the driver’s seat. “You’re staying over, right?” You asked Bob, who promptly pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
“You want me to?” He asked, starting the car.

“‘Course I do,” you replied, leaning over to press a small kiss just at the corner of his mouth.
The drive back to your rental wasn’t long and Bob quickly disrobed for bed, hanging his clothes up so they wouldn’t be rumpled for work tomorrow. He watched as you got undressed down a simple pair of cotton panties before pulling his shirt back on and hooking two buttons near your breasts.
You crawled into bed, immediately curing into Bob’s side and hooking a leg over his.
“Bobby, your glasses,” you frowned, reaching up to gently take them from his face, folding them gingerly and setting them atop the ledge of your headboard. “So handsome,” you cooed, stretching up to kiss him gently.
Bob chased the kiss, a hand sliding down your side to hold you against him.
“Can I ask you something?” He prompted.
“Anything,” you replied, looking up at him in a way that made him think he could conquer the world.
“Do you wish I was… I don’t know, that we had more in common?” He asked, drawing a frown from you.
“We have lots in common,” you insisted, nuzzling into his shoulder, “what do you mean?” you pressed.
“I just - I don’t know, I see the way you and Jake talk and - and I wonder maybe -” He had cringed at his own insecurity. “Maybe if I was a little more like him…” he trailed off.
“Then what?” You asked.
“I’m sorry, forget I asked, it was dumb,” he blurted, a blush of embarrassment creeping up his neck.
“Bobby,” you frowned, sitting up and swinging a leg over his lap. You grabbed his hands, placing them on your thighs. “I love you,” you reminded. “Cowboys like Jake are a dime a dozen in the South.” You waved your hand. “If I wanted a cowboy, I would have planted myself in Ardmore and found one.” You slid your hands up his stomach to his chest. “Yeah we can talk football and ranch life, but you’re the man I want to come home to every day.” You leaned forward to kiss the corner of his mouth again and watched as his throat bobbed. “I’m gonna be your wife and the mother of your children,” you elaborated. “Jake’s just going to be the guy we invite over to watch the game,” you said with finality.
“Don’t like him touching your boots,” Bob murmured.
“Next time he does, I’ll kick him right in the shin,” you promised. 
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dragon-communion · 1 year
Text
While on the one hand, Fia’s sessions of “taking lifely vigor” from the Tarnished are definitely implied to be sex, and I find it hilarious that this is a situation where the devs probably bapped GRRM on the nose and told him to calm down, what if I roll with the implication?
It’s implied in a previous version of the Turtle Neck Meat item that people in the Lands Between just don’t have sex anymore. It’s too feral. Bestial. Might even have something to do with the birth of Omen children, actually, considering how such an animal act might bring one closer to the Crucible.
So what if extended hugging sessions are that scandalous and vulgar? Spending a minute in the arms of another person being worse than a glimpse of Victorian ankle has some fascinating implications for society in the Lands Between. If physical contact itself is base and hedonistic, can you imagine how touch starved everyone is?
One of the major problems in modern day America is how distant everyone is. While the Lands Between might not have the same issues with a lack of third places or the consequences of car-focused city planning, our level of general societal paranoia compounded with the advent of COVID means we just don’t touch eachother at all ever. This is grossly simplified because I’m too lazy to go get sources, so feel free to fact check me, but part of the focus on getting yourself a romantic partner is so folks can finally have someone it’s acceptable to get positive physical touch from. Failing that, getting into a sport at least earns you a more violent facsimile of that.
In the Lands Between, where society is focused on being a civilized as possible, it would make sense (a la Brave New World by Huxley) for society to try to eliminate sex and its trappings. Given Elden Ring’s heavy Catholic themes, celibacy also takes on a religious twist- Augustine of Hippo “taught that original sin was transmitted by concupiscence”, or physical desire and longing. To quote briefly from Wikipedia, “The view of the Church is that celibacy is a reflection of life in Heaven, a source of detachment from the material world which aids in one's relationship with God.”
Looking at Queen Marika the Eternal makes it painfully obvious to the player that she’s not even a creature of flesh anymore, twisted into something like a glorified clay pot or even a reliquary for the Elden Ring. We don’t know much about what she was like beyond a few queenly speeches, but whether she was always literally a vessel like that or not, the no doubt popular image of her as a vessel of life could have easily changed over the years from something very physical to the more chaste implications of the female water-bearer statues or iconography of her pouring out a chalice. People do still swear by Marika’s tits, so obviously physical desire might still exist, but my recent theorizing on crystal tears and amber babies really puts me in mind of the sterilized process in Brave New World where disembodied ovaries are fertilized in a lab via cloning. There’s something there in the imagery of the baptismal fonts around the Erdtree collecting tears that become new births.
The whole arrangement might also put a new spin on the gladiatoral games in the Coliseums, and to some extent Marika’s warlike drive. People crave contact, and the high of violence can be close enough to sex to mimic it, though poorly. I think everyone has probably made jokes about how American football has some undertones, and pro wrestling is the same. The most obvious example is dog collar matches, which look so close to BDSM as to be nearly indistinguishable to me.
With all of that in mind, the unmistakable intimacy of Fia’s actions might actually be as degenerate and twisted to modern Lands Between sensibilities as pup masks and handcuffs to the modern day American. What she offers is a gentle hug, perhaps even extended cuddling, and pillow talk. It’s stated that Rogier says “all sorts of things” abed, and while it’s easy to take that to a more physical interpretation, it could actually literally be Fia playing with the man’s hair for an hour until every single thought falls out of his head. When she makes the offer to you, she has to couch it carefully, framed in the ideas of a foreign interpretation of the sacred as if the only way it can be legitimate is if it is a sacred act, as if that’s the only way you’ll be able to understand it. Like when we argue for gay marriage and couch it in the language of romantic equality, because surely everyone can empathize with romantic equality, when the real physical benefits involve insurance and hospital visitation rights.
Anyway, it’s just something I’ve been thinking about.
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Text
Today we ask: what the fuck is Exy?
Exy is a fictional sport from the All For the Game series by Nora Sakavic described as the bastard lovechild of ice hockey and lacrosse. It is infamously uncleared described in the books despite games sometimes taking up whole chapters.
Today I address the 5 most pressing rules because I skipped therapy this week and need an outlet.
Q. 1) What does an Exy court look like?
Exy is played on something the size and layout of a soccer pitch but with a hard court floor like basketball and plexiglass walls and ceiling. This is shorter but wider than an American football field but much larger than an ice hockey rink.
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This is unfortunately demented because there are only 6 players per team on the court at any given moment whereas soccer has 11. For scale this is how much space the 22 players on a soccer field have.
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Now imagine that's 12 people. You see the problem.
Also the ball in sports like lacrosse or hurling moves very, very fast and can travel long playing fields. Hurling, an Irish traditional sport and IRL sport where the ball moves fastest, has 15 players per side on a field only 10m longer than a soccer pitch.
This in mind as we move onto those walls.
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The nonshatter plexiglass walls and ceiling would be for safety given how fast that ball would be moving. Ice hockey has walls but no ceiling b/c pucks don't get into the air or bounce as much as balls (though it has happened and yes people have been injured)
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However the concept of walls and a ceiling in a sport where a ball would move as fast as an exy ball would move is HILARIOUS.
Those cosest equivalents, lacrosse and hurling, that I mentioned are both outdoors with nothing to rebound off. This would be chaos murder pinball!
Q. 2 Is exy played indoors or outdoors?
This is a controversial one with fans of these books because having read the series several times I can only offer you my best educated guess.
As stated above, the court itself is a self-contained murder pinball box so stadiums could be open to the sky like football but descriptions of stadiums like Evermore sound as if they are closed roofed like hockey or basketball. Smaller, high school level etc, might need to be multipurpose/adaptable and therefore outdoors (as seen in book 1 in Millport)
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Q.3 What are the actual rules of play?
Again, exy as written was "rules light" to put it mildly.
We can gather its got similar contact rules to ice hockey with the same contempt for people fouling the goalie or players not "in play". There are allowances for momentum and like ice hockey or roller derby there are multiple refs watching the game at all times because it moves so quickly.
These refs are outside the enclosed court area unlike hockey, more like roller derby that way, and we can assume from other multiple ref sports that there is a head ref for final decisions.
No offside though rule so its got that going for it (I'm still gay even after that joke)
Play has to stop to open the court doors because of the murder pinball aspect of the balls motion around the court. Refs can call a halt as they see fit. A player can call a halt to play if they are injured and can not continue the half. Play halts after any goal. Teams can use any halt to make substitutions but can only call a halt for the purpose of substitution once per half.
There are six positions striker, backliner (defensive line), goalkeeper, and dealers (offensive and defensive).
Q.4 What the fuck are dealers?
Dealers. Yeah. No one really knows so I apply best sports logic.
This brings us back to exy having only 6 players on a soccer-sized pitch. Soccer has mid-fielders to bridge the gap between forwards and defenders but the ball would be much slower than exy. Hurling (fastest irl ball sport) has 15 players.
Despite having more players, hurling has the positions half-back or half-forward, which are halfway between midfield and either full-forward (striker) or full-back (defender). This is the only logical model for what the difference between an offensive and defensive dealer is.
Do with that what you will.
Q.5 What is the protective gear like?
The armor is often left out of fanart i think because people it would be as bulky as football or ice hockey armor.
They'd ha e to use something like lacrosse armor for maneuverability. It would be made out of thick padded mesh. Helmets with face guards are an obvious must have.
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In lacrosse only goalies wear hard plastic throatguards but since its murder pinball, everyone gets one
That's all I've got folks. I'm doing outing myself as a Sports Gay™️ now.
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karahalloway · 5 months
Text
Thanksgiving - Part 3
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Fandom: TRR - (Un)Common Attraction universe
Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)
Series: Thanksgiving
Synopsis: Harper and Drake fly to Bozeman, MT to spend their first Thanksgiving together with Harper’s family. 
Word count: 6,000 (As per usual, H&D have done their own thing...)
Warnings: E (swearing, aggro, unsportsmanlike conduct, injury, gettin' down and dirty in the shower)
A/N1: So, I know this is like... a year overdue, but last year I was not feeling inspired / was focused on other things, so here (at long last!) is the next part of this one-shot-turned-mini-series! Thanksgiving was only two weeks ago. As per usual with this project, things did not go according to plan, so rather than this part rounding out the series, there will be at least one more part (I have given up trying to predict how long this damn thing will be). But @nestledonthaveone should be happy, because this installment should hopefully make up for the disappointment she experienced at the end of Sleepless in New York 😁
A/N2: The backyard football game is a tiny bit inspired by this clip from Friends. Also, apologies in advance for any inaccuracies — American football is a seriously convoluted game (for me, anyway!) and I spent way too long trying to make sense of the rule book/quizzing my husband, but there may still be things in here that I missed the ball with pun intended.
A/N3: This fic is also my submission for @choicesholidays' 2023 Winter Holidays Prompt Event, and the prompt that this installment fits with is Week 5 : This is the best/worst/most embarrassing Christmas (or other winter holiday) ever! (The events cover all three bases because I'm extra 😆)
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"So," I say as I step out into the backyard. "Who's ready to play ball?"
My comment halts whatever conversation my brothers and Drake are engaged in.
"Some of us have been ready for a while, Harp," Justin points out, turning towards me.
"Yeah," chimes in Tyler. "What the heck took you so long?"
Drake's jaw goes slack as he lays eyes on me.
"Sorry," I shrug apologetically, more at Drake than anyone else as his gaze roves over the track short and tank top combo I have on. "Mom reorganised my closet."
"You mean the two things you got left in there?" mocks Tyler. "Yeah. Must've been real hard to find!"
"I have more than two things in there, thank you very much!" I counter, giving him a shove.
"How?" asks Justin in bewilderment. "You took an entire suitcase-worth of stuff with you last time!"
"She stores the overflow in Narnia..." quips Tyler.
"At least I don't wear the same smelly shirt 24-7," I hit back.
"Hey, I—"
"Okay! We get it!" interjects Brody, throwing his hands up into the air. "You missed each other, geez!"
I roll my eyes.
Tyler scoffs derisively.
Drake's hot gaze continues to lick over me.
"But if you want to get some actual game time in," my eldest brother continues, "then your weird brother-sister bonding sesh's gonna have to be put on ice."
"Or, better yet," interjects Justin, "save the pent-up aggro for the field."
"No rivalry like sibling rivalry, right, T?" I grin, elbowing Tyler in the ribs.
"Ow!" he objects, rubbing his side. "That actually hurt!"
"Seriously?" I ask. "I barely touched you!"
"Okay, so Harp's on one team and T's on the other," declares Brody loudly. "That leaves—"
"Dibs on Spartacus!" cries Tyler.
Drake's eyes widen as my brother grabs him like an overeager three-year-old.
I quirk a brow. "Something happen in Texas that I don't know about?"
"Not that I know of..." Drake admits ruefully, his eyes lingering on me even as he gets pulled away.
"Hey!" Tyler objects as he drags Drake across the yard. "No fraternising with the enemy! We have one goal and one goal only! To crush the suckers!"
"So..." I say, turning back to Justin. "Guess you're on my team then!"
"Guess so," he confirms with a shrug. "Your fiancé any good?"
"Not sure," I admit. "I know he played a bit in college..."
Justin's brows shoot skywards. "He got picked? For a college team?"
"That's what he said," I shrug. "But I've never seen him play, so..."
Justin gulps audibly as he turns to Brody. "Any chance you wanna join our team?"
"Nope," comes the deadpan response. "You know T — this game's gonna be a shitshow. So, we need a ref."
"In other words, you hurt your back chopping wood again," I note wryly.
"And there's that..." admits Brody.
"Well, maybe if you exercised more..."
"Hey!" hollers Tyler from the opposite side of the yard. "You chatterboxes wanna play or—?"
Brody launches the football across the space. "Heads-up, T!"
Tyler doubles over with a wheeze as the expertly aimed projectile nails him in the gut. "Not... cool... bro..."
"Guess it's game on," I declare with a grin as I turn to make my way over to our end zone.
"You wanna catch, or make a run for it?" asks Justin as he falls in beside me.
"Catch," I tell him. "You know I got a mean throw."
"But can you out-throw your fiancé?" he asks meaningfully.
I glance over at Drake, who's still eyeing me like a ravenous wolf as he cracks the vertebrae in his neck. "Ehh..."
I probably should've stayed in my leggings...
"Okay, then!" declares Brody with a clap of his hands. "Backyard football, Gale House edition! You know the rules, but in case you don't, or you're Tyler, who ignores them anyway—"
"Hey!"
"—here they are again!" continues Brody, studiously ignoring his younger brother's outburst. "One blitz per down, no conversions, no two-on-one plays, no biting, no punching, no kicking, and definitely no running players into the rose bushes, or your ass is gettin' benched! Understood?"
"Yup!" we all chorus.
"T...?" asks Brody pointedly.
"I said 'yes', dammit!" Tyler erupts, hurling the ball into the grass in frustration.
"Not sure why you did that, dumbass," Brody declares flatly. "You're doing the kick-off."
Tyler stomps off to retrieve the football from one of Mom's planters with a grumble.
"Each team has four downs to complete two passes or score a touchdown," finishes Brody. "Any questions?"
We all shake our heads.
"Good!" proclaims Brody. "Let's bring da noise!"
"You ready?" Justin asks, shifting his weight forward.
"Born ready!" I assure him with a grin, flexing my hands.
A shrill whistle rends the air...
...and the game is on!
Tyler punts the football in a graceful arch over the length of the yard. Justin is off like a shot, as is Drake, both looking for position on the field.
The ball sails towards me, and I step forward to receive it. The stuffed leather makes contact with my chest, causing me to gasp from the impact. But I push past the discomfort, quickly bringing my hands around the ball to keep it under control.
Adjusting my feet, I bring the ball up and over my shoulder, looking for Justin...
...but my line of sight is blocked.
"Howdy, Gale," grins Drake from in front of me.
My eyes widen. "How the hell did you get here so fast?"
"Some of us had the foresight to do a warm-up," he replies, making a grab towards me.
I dodge out of the way. "You didn't know we were going to play football!"
Drake scoffs as he lunges for me again. "It's Thanksgiving, baby. You always play football."
I jump backwards again. "Yeah, but—"
I scream as Drake dispenses with the theatrics and snaps his hands around my waist to lift me into the air.
"Hey! Put me down, Walker!" I yell, flailing my legs in a vain attempt to dislodge myself from the captive position I suddenly find myself in... for the second time in just as many days!
"Shoulda been faster, girl," he smirks, slapping me roundly on the ass before he flicks me off his shoulder and back down in front of him after a couple of steps.
I blow the wayward hair out of my face as I glare up at him. "What the hell was—?"
A shrill whistle interrupts me. "Safety!"
I whirl on Brody in disbelief. "What?!"
"You got tackled in your own end zone, sis," my elder brother shrugs apathetically. "While holding the ball. Two points for the other team."
My gaze falls to the football still clutched in my hands. "I... But... He..."
"Whoo!" cries Tyler, bouncing in like a hyperactive kangaroo to high-five Drake. "That was next level, man! I knew you were gonna have tricks up your sleeve!"
"How the hell are you allowing that!" protests Justin, arriving as well. "That was clearly—!"
"—a legal, and perfectly legit play," Brody declares. "It didn't fall foul of any of the rules, so—"
"You can't tackle someone after they make a fair catch!" shouts Justin.
"It wasn't a fair catch," interjects Tyler. "She didn't raise her arm!"
"And even if it had been, which, it wasn't," adds Brody, "that rule isn't part of the official Gale House rulebook anyway, so—"
"Oh, come on!" objects Justin, throwing his hands in the air. "That's a bullshit call and you—"
"Eugh, whatever!" I snap in exasperation, feeling like a complete idiot for allowing myself to get boxed in like that.
Drake reaches out towards me. "Chillax, Gale, it's just—"
"Shut up!" I cry, throwing the ball forcefully down onto Drake's feet as I push past him.
Drake somehow manages to not only dodge, but also catch the careening football on the rebound... like the annoying ninja that he is.
But, at least the rapid-fire multitasking prevents him from being able to stop me as I stomp down to the other end of the yard.
"You alright?" Justin asks as he catches up to me with a jog.
"Fine," I grit through clenched teeth. "Let's crush those suckers."
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"Ah, Harper!" exclaims Mom fifteen minutes later as the back door slams shut behind me. "I just finished making lemonade! Do you—?"
I stomp past her without a word, dried grass, dead leaves, and flakes of mud falling from my clothes with every step.
"Don't think she's after lemonade..." observes Dad, eyeing my cruddy progress through the kitchen as he dries up a bowl.
"No!" confirms Nana with a snort. "She looks like she's after a shotgun!"
I scoff under my breath. "That's an understatement..."
"Oh, honey..." croons Mom sympathetically. "Those brothers of yours not playing nice again?"
I fling my bedraggled Sketchers down the hardwood floors before tramping up the stairs.
If it had only been my brothers...
The back door bangs open again.
"Oh, Drake!" I hear my mom cry as I reach the top of the landing. "Thank goodness! What the heck hap—?"
"Can't talk now, Mrs Gale!"
"Honey," huffs Mom exasperatedly. "I told you to call me—"
"For Christ's sake, Leigh! Can't you see the boy's got bigger fish to fry?" deplores Nana as I hear Drake take the stairs two at a time after me.
Ignoring the approaching footsteps, I turn to march down the hallway towards the bathroom.
"Gale!" Drake calls from behind me. "Will you just—?"
"Fuck off, Walker," I throw over my shoulder as I step into the bathroom.
"Christ, girl!" he exclaims. "I said I was—"
I slam the door in his face... and flip the lock for good measure.
Asshole.
I know in the back of my mind that I'm probably overreacting. That it had been more of a perfect storm of mishaps than anything else.
But I am filthy, my clothes are ripped, and I'll be picking bits of garden from my hair for the next week. Not to mention the fact that I'm somehow going to have to explain to Savannah why I can no longer be her maid of honour...
...because thanks to my head-first tumble into Mom's rose bushes, I am now in the unenviable position of looking like I just lost a fight with a rabid bobcat.
And there's no way I'll be able to salvage this disaster... Even with liberal applications of Vaseline. Because the beautiful, lavender, off-shoulder bridesmaid's dress that I helped Savannah pick out will leave my shoulders and arms completely bare, which means that my new litany of cuts and grazes will be on show for the entire kingdom to see.
And I don't want to ruin my soon-to-be sister-in-law's big day by drawing the focus away from her much-deserved happily-ever-after with gossipy speculations about why I ended up looking like a human scratch-post.
As I — for one — have had enough of being on the wrong side of not just one, but multiple media furores. And I don't want to subject Savannah to even a fraction of what I’ve had to endure.
Especially during her once-in-a-lifetime wedding to the father of her child, who also happens to be a duke.
I heave a beleaguered sigh. Why didn't I just stay in my plaid shirt and leggings...?
The lock clicks back behind me.
"Great..." I mutter under my breath as I hear the door handle slide down.
I should've known that a stupid knob-turn bolt wasn't going to keep Drake out for long. But he could've at least taken the hint and given me a moment to put myself back together... and pull the damn briars out of my arms.
"Harper..." he says softly, stepping into the small space. "You—?"
Something in his voice snags on my heartstrings, and I feel a tear slip down my face as the sting of the pain and discomfiture finally overwhelms my latent anger and annoyance. "No..."
"Merde..."
Before I have a chance to blink, I'm up against his chest, breathing in his spicy, sweat-streaked scent as he envelopes me in his arms.
"Baby, I am so s—"
"It's not your fault," I sniffle, burying my face in his shirt. "I tried to be clever and—"
"I should've caught you."
I snort, wiping the moisture from my face. "You can't save me from everything, Drake."
"Yes," he counters firmly, tightening his hold on me. "I can. And I should. Because I made you a promise, Harper. And I—"
"Ow!" I exclaim, flinching away from him as he accidentally pushes on a hidden thorn embedded in my side.
"Shit!" he hisses, releasing me immediately. "I'm sorry, mon coeur! I didn't—"
"I know," I assure him heavily, lifting the side of my tank top up to try and find the offending barb. "You couldn't have known that root was there."
"Yeah..." he murmurs, kneeling down in front of me. "But pulling your pants down probably didn't help..."
An unexpected gasp escapes me as he reaches up to coast the warmth of his palms over my stomach.
"You only did that because I flashed you first..." I tell him breathlessly as he gently turns me.
He meets my eyes with a lopsided smirk. "Well, I figured that since you were undressing anyway..."
I smack him on the shoulder. "It wasn't an invitat— Ow!"
"Baby," he declares, tossing the extricated thorn into the sink. "It's always an invitation. Especially when you wear a get-up like this."
"Yeah," I grumble. "In hindsight, it probably wasn't a good idea. Ow!"
"Sorry..." he says again, flinging the second point after the first. "But you got a few more of those sticking out of you."
I heave a resigned breath. "Of course I do..."
"I'll try to be gentle..." he murmurs, laying a soft kiss on the bare skin of my side. "I promise."
Despite the discomfort, his lips ignite a rush of warmth over my skin. "I know. And I'm sorry that I flipped out at you..."
"Hey," he interjects, running his fingertips gingerly over my back. "Given the circumstances, you cussing me out at the top of your lungs was probably warranted."
"Not sure the neighbours— Ow!" I hiss as he plucks yet another barb out of me.
"Sorry," he murmurs, tossing the last thorn away as he stands back up. "But at least that's all the big ones."
I throw my head up. "What do you mean... the big ones?"
He meets my eye with a level look. "I pulled out everything I could see. But chances are that you have a bunch of smaller thorns stuck in you as well. But I'll need a needle or something to get those out."
I shiver involuntarily. "Great. Even more sharp, pokey objects..."
"Better to get poked now than to end up with a staph infection later," he tells me, washing the barbs down the drain. "Though it'll help if you took a shower first."
I glance at him quizzically. "Won't that push the barbs in further?"
"No," he assures me as he bends down again to rummage around in my toiletry bag. "A warm shower will soften your skin up, and help move any embedded thorns back up to the surface, making them easier to extract."
"Guess that makes sense..." I concede.
Thanks to the high-risk nature of his job, Drake's medical knowledge has always been much more robust than mine.
"Plus," he continues, locating the pair of tweezers he had apparently been after, "we need to wash those wounds out before we dress them."
"Right..." I mutter, eyeing the shower warily.
This will not be fun...
"I know what you're thinking, mon coeur," he assures me, dropping a kiss on my temple. "But a shower's gonna hurt a helluva lot less than letting those cuts get infected."
"I know, I know..." I grumble, pulling my ruined tank top all the way off. "Just not how I had imagined spending Thanksgiving..."
"Trust me, I know," he sighs wearily, running his eyes over the peach-coloured lace of my bra. "This... mishap seriously FUBAR'd all the bedroom rodeo I had planned."
My jaw drops. "Bedroom rodeo?! You told me last night to rein it in because my bed squeaks so bad!"
"Yeah, but I was gonna tumble you in the hay when we got to Texas to make it up to you," he reminds me. "But I guess that ain't happening now."
"We have slightly bigger problems than sex being off the menu, bud," I tell him dryly, pushing my shorts down.
His gaze tracks the movement. "I fail to see how..."
I heave a low breath as I reach for the fastening of my bra. "Your sister's wedding is in three days, and there's no way this mess will be healed up in time!"
"So?"
"So, how am I supposed to wear my bridesmaid's dress?!" I shout at him.
He lifts his eyes out from the well of my cleavage to quirk a brow at me. "Normally?"
"Ha!" I bark out, throwing my bra at him. "Funny!"
He snaps a hand out to intercept the projectile before it can hit him in the face. With a low breath, he adds, "Just wear a shawl or something, if you're so worried about it. You'll want to cover up in church anyway."
"I—" I pause with my panties halfway down my hip. "Why didn't I think of that...?"
"Because you were too busy having an emotional meltdown?" he supplies wryly, tossing my bra to the side as he steps up to me.
"Shut up..." I demure with a roll of my eyes... even as I feel the tips of my nipples harden as they brush against the roughness of his shirt.
"Yes, ma’am," he accedes, lacing his fingers through the hair at the nape of my neck to pull me towards him.
Our lips meet, and I melt into him with a sigh, my arms wrapping around his neck, the earlier confrontation forgotten.
Because no matter how heated an argument may have been, or how badly I am hurting, Drake has always had the uncanny ability to pick me up and kiss me better.
It's honestly one of the big reasons why I love him — I've never met anyone who's as effortlessly clued into me as he is... intuitively knowing what I need, and not shying away from delivering it either.
God knows I wouldn't be here today if it wasn't for him!
His free hand coasts down my side to splay possessively over my half-clad backside, pressing me against the sudden hardness of his arousal.
"What happened to sex... being off the table?" I breathe, my head tipping back as his lips trail down my jaw.
"You're not exactly making it... easy for me, girl..." he murmurs, nipping my ear accusatorially even as he hooks a thumb into the waistline of my panties.
"You're not exactly... trying very hard, bud," I counter dizzily, my hands tangling into his hair as he slips the peach lace all the way off.
"Trust me..." he growls, molten mocha gaze meeting mine as he slides his palm up the back of my thigh, making me arch into him. "If I weren't trying so goddamn hard, you'd be bent over the fucking vanity already."
"Mmm..." I purr, darting my tongue out over his bottom lip. "Sounds like a challenge..."
He exhales sharply. "Christ, girl... Don't make me—"
A loud rap rattles the door. "You two alright in there?"
I jump away from Drake like I've been burnt. "Yeah, Mom! We're fine! Just... Just getting cleaned up!"
"You sure?" she asks. "The boys told me you fell into the rose bushes, so I just—"
"No need!" I shout quickly, seeing the door handle dip down. "I'm... I'm just going to have a quick shower and—"
But the door — that Drake never re-locked — is already in the process of creaking open.
I glance desperately around the bathroom, looking for something to cover myself up with...
...but Drake is one step ahead of me.
"Actually, we could do with a sewing kit, if you got one," he calls, adjusting himself as he steps up towards the intrusion.
"A sewing kit?" queries Mom in puzzlement as she pushes the door back. "Did you lose a button on your shirt?"
"No," corrects Drake, grabbing the edge of the door to prevent it from swinging fully ajar. "Just need something sharp to pick the rest of the barbs outta Harper."
"Oh, that sounds painful!" comes the exclaimed response as Drake plants himself strategically in the doorway to block my naked form from Mom's line of sight. "Are you sure she doesn't—?"
"A nurse would do exactly the same at the ER, 'cept it wouldn't be free," he assures Mom while herding her back out into the hallway and pulling the door 'round behind him. But not before he catches my eye to mouth, "You owe me."
A haphazard snort escapes me as the latch clicks shut in their wake.
No rest for the wicked 'round here!
But I guess I shouldn't be surprised... When you have eight people in a house, you're bound to get walked in on, one way or another. Especially since my family is nosier than a crate puppies at the best of times.
Knowing that Drake probably isn't going to be let to return anytime soon — Mom had sounded way too intrigued by this sewing kit business — I flick the shower head on.
I don’t really want to wash my hair again, given that I already did so this morning, but one glance in the mirror quickly disabuses me of that notion...
Grabbing my shampoo and conditioner back out of my toiletry bag with a resigned sigh, I step under the hot spray for the second time today.
I flinch as the sting of the water hits the broken skin on my arms and shoulders, but I know that Drake is right, and it's important that I wash the dirt and debris out so I don't end up at the ER later requesting a course of antibiotics.
So, gritting my teeth, I force myself to stand firm, ensuring that every inch of me gets a good soaking.
Once I'm thoroughly drenched, I proceed to shampoo the mud and foliage out of my hair, having to battle a bit with a few tangled locks as I spread the conditioner through.
Having finally sorted my hair out, I'm reaching down to grab my shower gel when I feel a rush of cold air over my skin.
"Missed a spot..." murmurs Drake, sliding his palms down the line of my hip as he steps into the shower behind me.
"I only just... finished sorting my hair out," I tell him, my voice catching slightly as the feel of his hands on me instantly reignites the fire he kindled earlier.
"Sounds like you need all hands on deck, then," he drawls, his stubble brushing the shell of my ear as he reaches 'round me to take the bottle from my hand. "Your dad said the turkey'll be done in under an hour."
"You sure turkey's the only thing you're after, cowboy?" I smirk, feeling the tip of his arousal poke me eagerly as he doles out a generous amount of soap into his hand.
"I did work up an appetite..." he affirms, dropping the bottle back down so he can work the lemon-and-lime scented gel into a lather.
"Well, like you said, that's going to have to wait because—"
I gasp as his sud-laden hands come down to cover my breasts with a decisive finality.
"I think we can find a workaround..." he tells me, working the soap over my nipples with his thumbs.
My head tips back onto his shoulder. "Drake..."
"I got you, baby," he assures me, dropping a kiss on my temple as he coasts one hand down my body while keeping the other one cupped around my breast. "You just relax."
I try desperately to maintain my coherence as he proceeds to lather me up. "But—"
"They won't hear if you're quiet," he reminds me, trailing his tongue up my neck as he slips his fingers between my legs.
I grab onto his wrist with a guttural moan as he dives deep into the slickness of my folds, my half-hearted protest forgotten.
Because let's face it — as much as I might try to fight temptation, I always end up losing the battle. As I'm a complete and utter sucker for him, and I've never been able to resist the magic of his touch.
"Plus," he adds, laying tingling kisses along my collarbone while sliding two fingers along the edges of my heated centre. "It feels like you need it."
I blabber something incoherent as he dips a finger into me before pulling back out to continue his lazy explorations.
"Mmm..." he breathes, sinking his teeth gently against the tender skin of my throat. "Feels like you definitely need it..."
I grab onto his hair in desperation. "Drake!"
Letting go of my breast, he snaps a hold around my jaw to crash the sound of his name against his lips as he sheathes his fingers fully inside of me.
I whimper against his mouth, feeling my legs start to shake as he pulls out once more to work my clit with a relentless mix of heart-stopping exigency and almost brutal precision while the warm water continues to rain down onto us.
"That's it, girl," he growls against my mouth, nipping my bottom lip in encouragement. "Just a little more..."
I jolt against him, the tension inside of me ratcheting inexorably higher as he thrusts forcefully back inside me with the addition of a third finger...
...only to withdraw again just as I start to crest.
A pitiful whine escapes me as I arch against his hand, shamelessly seeking the release he keeps dangling in front of me like an unattainable carrot.
"I told you that you owe me, girl," he reminds me thickly, dropping his other hand back down to my breast as he reverts to a slow, teasing glide over my heated nub. "And I ain't done with you yet."
My vision starts to swim as I gasp for air. "Drake... Please! I—"
"I think we can take you higher."
I start to shudder in his arms as he slows his motions down to a crawl, keeping me perched on the edge while stoking me ever upwards with unhurried, feather-light strokes.
"Christ, you must be tight..." he groans against my ear, his erection straining against me from behind as he presses the tip of his finger against my drenched core.
My vision starts to swim as I claw at his hand. "D-Dra—!"
With one swift motion, he rams his fingers into me, throwing his other hand up against my mouth to catch the scream of delirium that erupts from my throat.
Stars burst in front of my eyes as I finally — finally! — explode like an overwrought time-bomb that's run out of fuse.
"That's it, baby," he huffs, thrusting his fingers in and out of me at a rapid pace. "Fall to fuckin' pieces for me."
I lose all sense of time and space as he continues to stroke me through the heady high of my long-awaited climax, the steam from the shower rising up around our entwined bodies.
After several rapturous moments, the last, delicious wave ripples gloriously over me, and my legs finally give out as I fall back down to Earth.
"Drake..." I moan groggily, keeling over to thud against the cool tiles in front of me.
"Wiped your vocabulary, Gale?" he smirks, reaching gently across my waist to pull me back against him.
"Mmm..." I purr, tipping against the solid warmth of his body as I continue to luxuriate in the after-effects of his unexpected — but nevertheless satisfying — ministrations.
His chest rumbles with a chuckle as he drops a kiss into my wet hair. "I'll take that as a compliment."
"So much for taking a time-out, though..." I say dryly, wrapping my arms around him.
"I wasn't gonna leave you hanging, mon coeur," he says, leaning his head against mine. "But we do need to make a move. Your family's waiting for us downstairs."
"They can wait five more minutes," I assure him pertly, sliding my hand 'round his hips.
He catches my wrist. "Harper, you don't need—"
"But I want to."
He swallows hard as I drop to my knees in front of him. "Gale, we gotta—"
"I know," I tell him sweetly, grabbing the base of his shaft with my free hand. "But we can't leave you hanging either, cowboy."
His head falls back with a hiss as I lean forward to trace the underside of his length with my tongue. "Christ, girl. You're gonna be the death of me."
"Mmm, I can tell," I assure him, rounding my tongue in a circle over his velvety tip.
His hand releases my wrist to tangle into my hair with a wry scoff. "Just don't think this'll get you out of surgery."
"Better move fast then, Walker," I say, meeting his eye sultrily as I take him into my mouth.
His body jolts as my lips envelope him. "Jesus, fuck!"
"Keep it down, bud," I tell him with a sly smirk, grazing my teeth across his throbbing skin. "My family's downstairs..."
Expletives spew out from under his breath as I wrap my lips fully around him again. "You should fuckin'... talk... girl. It's a full-time job... tryna keep you quiet."
"Hey," I hit back slyly, flicking my tongue over his tip once more. "You only got yourself to blame, bud."
"You... complainin'?" he huffs, his free hand shooting out to brace himself against the slick tiles.
"What do you think?" I purr, licking my lips as I bend towards him again.
Tightening my hold around his base, I take him slowly back into my mouth, keeping my eyes locked with his the entire time.
A hard growl rattles his throat as the warmth of my tongue wraps around him, but his espresso gaze never wavers from mine.
Sinking my teeth gently against the base of his head, I proceed to swirl my tongue in a figure of eight over the tip of his straining manhood.
I see his expression tighten. "Harper..."
Encouraged by his tacit approval, I take him deeper into my mouth to lavish attention around his full circumference.
His fingers twist more firmly into my hair as I hear his breath start to quicken.
Glancing back up, I see him watching me with hooded eyes, jaw slack with ardour.
Keeping my gaze locked with his, I pull him in as far as he will go.
His eyes shudder closed as a sharp breath explodes out of him. "Shit, that's hot."
Settling my tongue on the underside of his shaft, I slowly pull back, upping the pressure with each inch I reverse.
Reaching his head again, I feel the salty taste of his barely contained excitement drip out onto my tongue. Keeping my lips locked around him, I lick the moisture up before taking him deep again.
His hips jerk towards me as I suck down on his full length. "Fuck, baby. Just like that."
Heeding his demand, I repeat the full cycle, feeling him expand even further into my mouth as I slowly up the speed and pressure after each round.
Hearing him start to pant above me, I slow things back down, licking him up and down lazily in between a few languorous pumps of my fist.
"You're a fuckin' tease, girl..." he pants hoarsely, chest heaving from the stimulation.
"I learnt from the best," I tell him with a smirk as I reach up to rake my nails down the quivering ridges of his abs.
His scoff turns into a groan as I take him back into my mouth to pick up the hard and fast rhythm I'd set earlier.
His other hand flies into my hair. "Putain de merde!"
Slapping a hand onto his ass, I sink my nails into his taunt backside as I urge him on with my mouth and tongue.
"Christ, girl... You're gonna make me cum so hard," he grits, fingers digging into my scalp as I feel him harden almost painfully between my lips.
Knowing that he's close, I bear down on him relentlessly, pushing him towards the precipice of oblivion until I feel the last of his self-control snap as he tumbles down the well of pure, basic instinct.
Yanking my head forward, he thrusts into my mouth with an animalistic grunt, nearly making me choke on the fullness of his length. Breathing through the discomfort, I let him hijack the pace, continuing to tease his now rock-hard head as he chases his inevitable climax.
"Oh, baby, don't stop..." he pleads through increasingly erratic gyrations. "Don't fuckin'—"
I suck down on him hard...
...and he explodes into my mouth with a jagged moan.
His dick bucks wildly as his hot seed spills down my throat, causing his knees buckle in front of me. Tightening my grip on his ass, I keep him pinned between my lips as I work him through his convulsions, his face tilted skywards while his body jerks above me to the sound of the ragged growls being clawed from his throat, his fingers threaded through my hair.
It’s not until the last of the aftershocks fade away, and I draw my tongue over his now somewhat softened shaft that I finally release him.
"Christ, girl..." he pants, trying to catch his breath. "The hell did that come from?"
I shrug up at him. "We were pressed for time, so..."
He bites out a bewildered scoff as he stumbles backwards against the wall. "I can't feel my fuckin' legs..."
"So... Good, then?" I ask, pushing myself back up with a cheeky grin as I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.
He pulls me to him with a laugh. "More like next fucking level!"
"Now you know how I feel," I tell him, dropping a kiss on his cheek.
"Mmm..." he murmurs, sliding a palm down the curve of my ass. "Gotta work harder then."
I smack his chest in exasperation. "Not everything is a damn competition!"
"Says the girl who hates to lose," he counters, cinnamon-laces irises dancing roguishly.
"Yeah, well..." I huff wryly, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. "You bring out the worst in me, Walker."
"Good," he approves, dropping a kiss on my nose. "I love raising hell with you."
"I love you, too," I breathe, pushing myself up onto my toes.
Tightening his hold on my backside, he dips his head down to capture my lips with a heartfelt kiss.
I lean into him with a sigh, glad that we were able to carve out a small moment for just the two of us... even if the method of arrival had been somewhat less than orthodox.
Which reminds me...
"Guess we should finish what we came in here to do..." I say, pulling away from him begrudgingly. "Before someone else bursts in on us."
"If you mean sex, then—"
I smack him on the arm. "Is that really all you think about?!"
"I mean..." he drawls unabashedly, running the spark of his gaze over me. "I got you naked in my arms, after giving me one of the best blowjobs I've ever had, so..."
"Never mind..." I sigh with a roll of my eyes, even as I feel my mouth pull into a smile.
He’s incorrigible, but I love him for it.
"But you're right," he concedes. "The water's gettin' cold and we need to finish pulling those barbs out of you before we go down for dinner."
"Alright, Dr. McDreamy," I say with a final peck on his lips. "Let's wrap this up so we can go eat some turkey."
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Thanksgiving contiunes in Part 4!
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Thanksgiving Only
@burnsoslow
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pandorafallz · 5 months
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Vampire AU | A night at Hometree
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As predicted, the rain got to the point where the return was not an option, even for the early return and everyone had returned to the shelter of Hometree with their work or to play games and settle for peaceful tasks and since most of the humans were still getting to know Hometree and the general location, they didn’t wander out either and stuck close to their assigned jobs.
A few children had gotten interested in some of the newcomers and were playfully asking questions and convincing them to play a few games with them. Jerome had put together a makeshift soccer ball made of dried Yerik Bladder that had some weight to it- enough to feel like a kickable ball in the gravity of Pandora—and Harper had taught a group of kids how to play. A new game for the children and enough players, Jake reasoned that it allowed some of the more stressed parents to get a break by the fire with some tea.
“You know, we could give them coloured strips to tuck into their loincloths for each side?” Kendra spoke to Harper, watching the kids score.
“You think they need that? I think them just having fun is the goal. Turning it into a competition is another thing if you put real sides to it.” Harper mused, snorting as Ashley failed at dribbling before the ball was gone by a quicker teen.
It was remarkable, as Jake watched, to see how quickly the children had picked up the sport though his main gripe about it was the fact Kendra had introduced it as Football, not Soccer. She must have some Britishness to her to be calling it that. American football, he knew wouldn’t do well with the Na’vi; it was far more violent than kicking a ball around but still…. a good portion of humans here came from America. He would have thought they’d use the same names for shit to not confuse the Na’vi.
Kendra patted Harper’s arm, bending down to pick up her basket of tiny (relative to Na’vi) animal bones then headed his way.
“Did you live in England for a bit, by any chance?” He couldn’t help but ask as she passed.
Kendra paused, giving him an odd look. “What makes you say that?”
“You called it Football, not Soccer.” Jake pointed out, “We all know Soccer is the correct term.”
“The British invented its current form, so they have the right to call it football,” Kendra spoke, her eyes twinkling though her tone disapproving. “You Americans just changed British Rugby a little and slapped a new name on it by calling it football and got enough of your population to believe it.” She said.
Jake blew a raspberry. “It is better.”
“Well, given your version of the sport isn’t being played right now on this planet, I think it’s safe to say that Football is the correct term that the Na’vi can understand. Playing Ball with the feet.” She said with a victorious grin. “And yes, I was born in England. My grandparents moved out of Japan to the UK when my mother was seven after the 2100 Earthquake and Tsunami. It was rough but they made it work.”
Jake hummed, wincing a little but she just carried on to deliver the bones towards the far ring of weavers which had grown as young adults were putting together new clothes of near-complete works. As soon as the bones were delivered, there was a mild scramble for them to get a good look and to see if they were suitable. Many looked like they’d be going to rider’s flight visors or women’s shirts.
It was perhaps reflex that Jake dropped his spindle of thread as a shadow quickly appeared in his peripheral. His hands rose automatically before—
Bam!
“Fuck!” His hands stung painfully, the ball launching off elsewhere by rebound but at a lesser speed. His skin tingled and he could feel the crawling burn rise to the surface of his palms.
“Oh my god, Jake!” Harper’s voice was muffled by a few others.
He hissed a little, his palms turning redder and redder but his heart hammered out of sheer surprise of it but he sucked in a few calming breaths. An accident, it was just an accident. Fuck that it was him in its way though.
“Back off guys,” Nadine’s voice called, her presence appearing beside him, her cold limb coming to his wrist to check. “Let’s help him back to Mo’at. He’ll need something cold to reduce swelling.”
“I will help.”
Jake’s head turned up in surprise though the stinging to see Neytiri of all people appear from the depth of Hometree and then crouch next to him in concern.
“May I?”
“Okay.” He leaned into her, allowing her to scoop him up but… he found that he didn’t quite mind and it made his heart flutter. She was gentle but swift—also her necklaces barely covered her breasts which made him realise his elbow was no doubt digging into those wonderful parts of the female body. He debated for a moment if moving his arm was worth bringing it to attention or just ignore. Na’vi clothing had some rules but not as strict or as prude as humans. The body, especially female breasts wasn’t sexualised so… he reasoned that ignoring was the best course of action and keep his hands to himself. It was his elbow that was in contact given the type of hold she had him in.
Plus his hands fucking hurt. He didn’t need another injury and…lest not from inappropriate behaviour.
But, before he knew it, he was being set down on a mat where the den was empty of the resident Tsahìk who was no doubt attending elsewhere. It crossed his mind that Mo’at couldn’t spend all her days in the den but it was amusing for a second to think that. Like every human kid thinking that their teacher lived in the school.
“I will fetch water. Keep your hands elevated.” Neytiri said.
He nodded, keeping his hand sup though he didn’t wait long before she returned with a bowl of water and set it down in front of him. He sunk his burning hands into it, almost withdrawing it by the sharpness of the water but breathed through the discomforting throb. It was like his hands had little heartbeats.
But, it did feel a little better as the intensity of the burning began to recede, he swirled his hands in the basin for a moment and felt the flow of the water between his fingers.
“Feeling better?”
“Yes, thank you.” He sighed out heavily. “Just…a little surprised.”
“Hm, you have fast reflexes,” Neytiri remarked, eyeing the cups before she found the new ingredients of what she was looking for. “Especially reflecting something that you didn’t see coming.” If he didn’t know any better, he was sure she almost sounded impressed.
“I saw a shadow in the corner of my eye, I guess my marine reflexes kicked in.” He reasoned off casually.
“Still, its markings are of that of a warrior or a hunter.” She mused.
“Well, we haven’t started lessons yet. Can I start coming over in my avatar more often than every other if it’s for training days? I can’t train as a warrior in my human body and… I don’t think it’s effective training if it’s every other visit that I get trained.”
Neytiri eyes him for a moment, contemplating for a moment. “No, at least not at Hometree. I can suggest to my father that I will come on your days away from Hometree to continue your training.”
“You will need days of rest if you are to care for your human body.” Mo’at’s voice echoed, making them both jump.
Jake almost tipped the water out of the bowl, leaning up from his slouch and staring up at the Tsahìk in alarm. Neytiri simply jumped to her feet with her tail high and ears perked before they softened back.
“But, that is a good suggestion. You should talk to your camp about it as your absence or training may affect your chores required. Now, hands?” Mo’at requested.
Jake held his hands out, allowing her to examine.“I suppose. N’deh says I’m not ready to hunt, only fish, that I need to learn to See the world around me or to start Seeing.”
“Did he now?” Mo’at didn’t sound…disapproving, which often would be in someone’s tone for that question. “You do not see?”
“I don’t…know what that means,” Jake admitted. “No one’s explained it's...signficance to me. I think the others assumed I knew or knew enough at this point. Felt…kinda awkward to ask them.” It was like not getting someone’s name at a group when instructions happened but it was too deep into a conversation to stop and ask.
Mo’at glanced at Neytiri for a moment. “It is…not something that is strictly taught. It is felt. A connection to one another or as N’deh implied, a connection to life and Eywa herself. You do not believe in Eywa? Not her gifts around her? What she provide even for you?”
Jake refrained from shrinking under her sharp gaze. “Belief is...is a strong word. I do not…fully believe on the account of me…not seeing such proof in understandable qualities I can understand.” He said carefully, “Humans love proof of concepts to believe. I’m sure you know Grace and the scientist’s habits in that regard.”
Mo’at tipped her head. “I have…seen their difficulties in acceptance. But…I’ve come to realise with you sky people that…you hold onto proof far too tightly, you demand more proof despite evidence. The Dreamwalker couple of your camp have passed through the eye of Eywa and returned with new bodies. Is that not enough proof?”
Jake frowned curiously. Mulling her words over. There was no…denying the possibility but… he could feel that there was some part of him unconvinced. That there was some scientific reason for it.
“It’s a culture thing to deny like that.”
All three heads turned to see Ruby in the den entryway, her arm up and her hand bleeding. She looked a little sheepish having been overhearing but Neytiri moved first to offer a space to her and reached for her arm to examine.
“In what way?” Mo’at asked, “I fail to understand why sky people hold onto distrust, even here and for you, Jakesully to be out here for over a month.”
“It’s a culture thing, Mo’at,” Ruby said tightly. “You don’t know Earth. What daily life is like? Belief has to come with scepticism for survival. If a child comes to you for help, claiming that their mother or sibling is sick then that is either a child genuine or a child tasked to lure someone away to a bad fate. Happened to my second cousin once, they found his skeleton six months later under a bridge.”
“I’m sorry,” Jake said, sympathetically.
“You cannot trust at face value. Trust on Earth can kill.” Ruby sucked in a heavy breath, letting Neytiri wipe the blood. “That carried into other aspects of life in our culture. Someone might be playing around, making a joke or simply lying. If you believe that, then you’re considered a fool. Someone to be laughed at or ridiculed at.”
“It is linked back to your closed hearts, then,” Mo’at concluded from her words. “I am sorry for the loss of your family member. Truly.”
Ruby just nodded, “Thank you.”
Neytiri continued to tend to Ruby’s hand quietly, though a simple binding was used as the cut wasn’t too deep or long for stitches. Mo’at set Jake’s hands back into the water.
“I also think humans don’t like their beliefs challenged.” Jake mused, “It pushed us into denial very quickly and we get defensive.”
“Pride?” Ruby suggested.
“That too.” Jake wasn’t a fool to dismiss that motion. “Like…I get why the Na’vi believe. It’s their culture and I understand the concept that they can bond and connect and all but… humans don’t have that. We have no tswin. We have no foundation of which that belief can grow.”
“You need proof,” Neytiri said simply. “You need to see her around her, to hear her in the wind or to hear her voice in your ear…”
Mo’at spared a quiet moment of contemplation, her lips pursed tightly and her brow pulled in then spoke to Neytiri in Na’vi. Jake caught fragments but their words were quicker than he could translate. Ruby though looked to be following along, examining her bandage to look busy.
Mo’at didn’t look thrilled by a suggestion coming from Neytiri, though Jake for some reason held the Tsahìk’s gaze before something looked decided.
“We can…show you means of finding a connection with Eywa, but for now we do not know how to show sky people. With your Dreamwalkers, it is possible. If enough of you were convinced, would convincing the others be easier?”
Jake spared a glance to Ruby who frowned, uncertain but looking curious enough to not shy away.
“Possibly, but…how?” Ruby asked carefully.
“Tsaheylu. Nothing more. Your Dreamwalkers can bond with the Great Mother that your native bodies cannot. However, the sites are forbidden for outsiders….unless permission of either Tsahìk or Olo'eyktan is granted.” Neytiri spoke.
“You don’t look thrilled, Mo’at.” Ruby remarked, “You’re not for it?”
“I am protective of our sacred sites. It is the duty of Tsahìk to ensure the sanity of our ancestral sites.” Mo’at spoke. “It is not a…easy suggestion but it is one that makes sense and has plausibility to show you our belief.”
“Four Dreamwalkers, both myself and you. No one brings any equipment but their own Dreamwalker bodies.” Neytiri suggested. “They would not offend to bring unsanctioned items with them.”
“Do we…have to do this?” Ruby asked next.
“No, the choice is yours.”
Ruby relaxed a little. “I’ll…talk to Zane about it.” She got to her feet, pushing the long plat of hair off her lap then over her shoulder and padded out quickly.
Neytiri watched her leave before something clicked, her head tilting away though Jake was surprised she looked at him. “Have they been told of your blood demons yet?”
“No. I was gonna wait till morning to tell them. It’s…not gonna be easy.” Then he snorted, “You know, getting us to believe in Eywa is probably gonna be far easier than getting them to believe in vampires.”
Mo’at considered. “That may be, but both require the sky people to change their beliefs. I suppose you may understand our frustration at your disbelief.”
Jake hummed. That was…not an unfair statement. Accurate. He knew he was missing the pieces that can’t just be learned so simply. He flexed his fingers under the cool water, lifting them out as Neytiri gestured but she looked satisfied to see the redness was less intense.
He was soon cleared from the healing den but his usage of sore hand were to be kept to a minimum so Neytiri set him next to the fires to watch the cooks and Nadine work. She was happy to wheel him closer and help sort through fresh, live Teylu from the dead that would be returned to Eywa rather than be served to the people. Apparently, children picked many without seeing the harm of being too rough in their harvesting.
“Teylu is safe for humans,” Nadine said, “Rich in protein and apparently sweet as well, but they’re going to steam them with… some vegetables. I’m managing the ones for humans since they added a herb that’s not safe for humans into their Teylu’s food prior to being cooked. It adds to the flavour but I’d rather not be on the loo all night.”
Jake snorted, staring a little at the giant grub in his hands. Massive in his hands but…in the Na’vi they looked small. The Teylu were at least ten centimetres long and very fat, but seemed to be curled up and trying to search for its natural food, not realising it was going to be his dinner. It…was uneasy. He didn’t like the idea of eating bugs but…this was normal for the Na’vi. He was gonna have to grit his teeth and bear it.
“I’m going to wrap them in edible leaves. Lots of veg so the crunch will not be the teylu.” Nadine assured, clearly sensing his discomfort. “The flavour will make up for the texture.”
He hoped so.
 -
The humans stuck together as dinner was handed out, not as close as Jake had been before to the fire, but more off to the left their smaller size made them feel puny sitting next to so many big people so, a group made sense. Jake was carried and sat between Morgan and Nadine.
Nadine was vague in her description of the food when Mingxia asked what it was when she started to eat. Neither Ruby nor Ashely seemed to add to it for clarification and both ate without questioning it; they knew what they were eating. Ruby with a little more upturned nose until she actually got to taste then her attitude lightened up.
Jake eyed his lead wrap for a moment, then took a solid breath and lifted his mask for the first bite.
The taste was…better than Jake expected and he didn’t let his intrusive thoughts go off and gross him out. The flavours were a mix between sweet and savoury with a surprising kick of spice that tingled at his palette. His stomach rumbled for more and he was handed a few more when his first was done.
“This is amazing. Thank you, Nad.”
Nadine smiled around her bite, “The other cooks are wonderful teachers. I might see about what other things we have that might work. Teylu don’t eat spice but they do marinade in it. It’s fascinating how they basically marinate it alive first by letting them consume selective herbs and then steaming them before full digestion.”
“Have you never had Teylu before?” Neytiri moved from her place to join behind him. “Not at your camp?”
Morgan hummed, shaking his head as an answer. “Jerome has a slight phobia with caterpillars or…insects with a similar form. Apparently when he was seven, his older sister pulled maggots out of a dead pigeon and put them in his bed because he stole her toy and refused to give it back. He can tolerate them now but he won’t eat them.”
“Plus, plenty of fish and meat with our small numbers. So we don’t need to rely on Teylu.” Jake reasoned, taking another bite after an inhale of safe breath.
Neytiri lent down, sniffing a little. “What did you put in that? It smells…different. Hotter.”
“Just some Capsaicin-based fruits,” Nadine said, much to Neytiri’s horror who lent away from his leaf wrap. “Gives it a nice kick.”
“You eat the burning plants?!”
“Yep,” Nadine gave the woman a grin, “Humans love spice, we’ve made Capsaicin-based sauces called hot sauce, and we’ve had wars over the spice trade because they’re so desired. It went global. Na’vi can’t eat Capsaicin like us. They can tolerate Menthol-based plants a little, like…their version of mint but nothing stronger.” Nadine added to the group. "I bet that some of our spices could probably kill a Na'vi but we'd be fine."
Neyriri eyed their Teylu rolls more wearily.
Ashley cocked her head. “You added capsaicin to mine too?” though she looked down thoughtfully but she looked very weary. “I…feel a kick but I’m not suffering.”
Nadine’s eyes widened for a moment, “Oh god, I forgot that the avatars—wait, you’re good? No burn-y-burn-y mouth? I definitely gave you the human version. I didn’t think….”
Ashley nodded, ears flicking as she took another test bite. “It…kinda tastes sharp, some heat but nothing that’s hurting or burning. It’s…normal. Could do with some more spice.”
“You still have human fragments in your avatar’s DNA. We may have a better tolerance for us in our other bodies.” Jake pointed out, though he felt a deep sense of relief. “Oh, that’s wonderful news. If we get more spicy plants, we can make our own hot sauce. I have pepper and chilli seeds in Tommy’s seed collection. I bet we could get a few seeds and get them growing. Add more to our variety. We could do camp trades.”
The group seemed to perk up at that.
“That…sounds like a good suggestion. Our areas are very remote to yours.” Harper said, eyeing the Teylu thoughtfully. “We have found a good few plants. We can take pictures and show them when we’re next here. Do you have a radio?”
“No,” Morgan said, “but I knew a few places we can get one. There are a few abandoned link shacks we can raid. I’ve seen a few there we can repurpose any of them.”
“Abandoned? How many?”
“We used a virus to wipe Hell’s Gate’s server of Link Shack locations. We should have free pickings.” Nadine said.
“Not entirely.” Ruby shook her head. “Dr Augustine had memorised a portion of the link shacks. The ones we stole were from the recovered list.”
“Which shacks? I can cross them off as potential targets.” Nadine mused.
“Site 7, which was the one you stole, Jake,” Ruby added to him.
Jake just grinned. A little victory of making the RDA pissed off at him was very good. Still, shame it was recovered so soon that they couldn’t struggle for longer on what he took.
“Then… Site twenty-six, thirty-two, Thirty-six, thirty-seven, forty-seven….sixteen and seventeen.” Ruby considered, counting on her fingers as she spoke. “We stole site thirty-six and thirty-seven’s modules and remote lab. Two other groups are stationed at Thirty-two and sixteen, so those are to be avoided. Dr Augustine’s favourite link shack is at Site 26 in the floating mountain.”
“Ooh, that’s a tempting site to go for. I bet that shack is kitted out with the best stuff.” Harper mused, “Head of SciOps, she probably has position perks to get what she wants in that. Last year, they refurbished it with plans of adding another few modules or a remote lab like what Ruby stole. It was put on hold after there was some sort of crash. Dr Augustine, Captain Hale and the pilot survived.”
Jake’s thrill of raiding link shacks dampened the more he heard. It was a tempting target and if Augustine wasn’t a vampire, he would have been one-hundred per cent down for raiding it and to annoy the fuck out of her by stealing all the good shit out of it for their needs; they’ll just get a replacement at the end of the day.
But… she was a vampire. A dangerous creature that… he wasn’t willing to put their neck into the noose, even if it was for their needs.
“You will leave Grace’s home as it is.” Neytiri spoke first, “It is quite the distance, after all, and high in the mountains. It would be in your best interest to avoid it as one would with a Palulukan den.” Her eyes fixed them with a heavy stare, one at a time to ensure each of them nodded. “Good. There is another metal home you are to avoid as it appears to be closeted to your home, Ruby….” Neytiri mentioned, directing this to the woman in question, going on to derive it and its appearance. Jake realised she was talking about the vampire home he had heard about. Another wise choice.
“In a few weeks’ time, we’ll have weed,” Nadine announced once they had settled into a lapse following Neytiri’s words.
“Bullshit.” Harper scoffed.
“Let’s not dismiss this so quickly, Trin.” Mingxia elbowed the soldier, “Go on, and please… for the love of god not be kidding.”
“Nope. Thanks to Jake’s dearly departed brother, we have the glorious seeds planted and growing as we speak. Far faster than anticipated but growing fast indeed. Jerome thinks the first batch will be in two weeks’ time.” Nadine said gleefully, though she reached to pat Jake’s arm softly.
“Add that to a trades list we have yet to get up,” Kendra said, her eyes alight. “It’s been so long since I hit a joint and it was shit. We need to see if there’s local flora that’ll work with it. Enhance the experience.”
“I can have a look.” Ashley said, “Tomorrow once we’re back.”
“I’ll help,” Mingxia added in.
Soon enough the people began to vanish away for their hammocks. Jerome and Kim seemed to vanish up as well with the rest of the people with a brief good night.  The humans stayed around, waiting to see what arrangements could be made for them.
“Not all of the sky people are suited to hammocks.” Tsu’tey’s voice was questioning as he spoke to Eytukan, standing close to being heard. “Nor did we expect them all to spend the night.”
“Their size makes them suitable for a few to share a single hammock, they can pair up. Those who cannot have a hammock may simply rest in the healing den for ease of movement.” Eytukan decided,
“I guess, Nad and I are going in the healing den. You can put your arm and leg on charge.”
Nadine hummed, moving to find her bag that was hung up near the spire and pulled it off and carried it with her to the healing den. Ashely didn’t bother with the hammocks for some reason but Jake accepted her help up and allowed her to carry him up and set him onto a mat, avoiding Nadine pulling off her arm.
“Thank you,” he nodded to her. “No hammock?”
Ashley nodded at his thanks, as she pulled a mat from the side though shook her head at the question. “I’d rather stick to the floor for now. I don’t…want to leave my avatar there. Even if Kendra volunteered to small-spoon me.”
“Alright.” Jake adjusted his legs out on the mat and then lay back, making sure to test the seal on his mask was good. He was gonna wake up with rim marks, that was certain.
“Night.” Nadine yawned.
 -
Grace should have expected the visit long before the two came to her quarters directly, although she had heard noise isolation headphones on, their steps were easy to identify when they crossed the 5-meter threshold and opened up her door without knocking as well but Grace didn’t look up from her datapad to greet them.
“You know, knocking in polite.” She reminded, reaching up to remove her headgear. “I could have had company or be in a far more awkward predicament.”
Mansk moved in, shutting the door after Walker. “Your attempt to get out of Site 26 has failed. Selfridge has reconsidered his options. He wants you there in two weeks maximum.”
Grace groaned. “Asshole.”
“We could steal the modules and set them up with 43’s RoLab we have hidden away. That way, they can’t put you there.” Walker suggested. “That’s the simplest option. It could be blamed on the people who took off on us.”
“There are at least six spare modules in Hell’s Gate mass storage bay. They’ll just bring them with them if the original modules are gone.” Mansk answered. “We can brainstorm ideas but let’s just tackle the fact that your food situation is our first priority, even for a few days.”
“Trudy will be the pilot, I’m assuming.” Grace sucked on her teeth for a moment. It wasn’t a bad choice; she did like Trudy. “but…it can’t be more than one vampire going out there with me. I can’t feed on the humans I have as well; that’ll draw up more suspicion and I won’t have as much access to drugs to up their blood count in the meantime.”
“We can stop using blood bags ourselves unless we have to, there’s a supply run every week the pilots would do. We can send the bags through her to you or you’ll have to run back to Hell’s Gate to eat, the latter not ideal.” Mansk decided, coming to lean against the door.
“We could decorate the bags with opaque medical covering. Make it look like dietary supplements that you need.” Walker added. “No one would think about it. If the humans of your group ask and wonder then you have a plausible reason.”
“I can last three days without feeding but I’d need two bags to satisfy for another three days. That’s if I don’t expand my energy with my abilities.” She could do the math easily to see it would be quite the stretch on their supply and more so on the long-term side of things. “If I have to, I’ll get back to Hell’s Gate. I can convince the humans to not question if they notice.”
“Who will you have with you?”
“Norm Spellman. He’s a new face as well which may help the cause. I could have a second researcher but… with him and the pilot, that’s less eyes on me. I can cover enough with another driver beside myself.” She did consider a few faces to join. One bright and idealistic soul was Bibi Levson but she wasn’t yet due here for a few months on the next resupply but she had heard good things of the woman’s work. Also rumours the woman was easily excitable about Pandoran plants but also, she may have a fangirl which would be awkward as hell so she’d need to get the girl saturated with work and less about her.
“Two humans. Good.” Mansk scratched his jaw thoughtfully.
“I’ll talk to Shen about getting the ‘suppliants’ logged into the standard request rather than it being flagged as contraband. Dr Solis can get the packs ready. You can bulk-take some in advance as well.” Walker mused.
“I’ll start getting the staff prepped tomorrow.” Things hopefully should be ready and stable by the time she’d have to go. She still wanted to talk to Hale about getting her memories back but, she could another time.
She waved the two out of her room, reaching for her headphones. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do.”
 -
Of course, the peace didn’t last for more than ten minutes before there was a flutter of steps at her door but it was the little heartbeat of the baby that stopped Grace from dismissing whoever it was from interrupting her again.
“It’s open.” She called, though she smiled a little at the sight of the sleeping baby as Paz came in though her expression fell as Paz looked worried. “Everything okay?” Grace set her headset back off to the side. 
“His more vampire side is starting to become more obvious,” Paz said, coming to sit straight on Grace’s bed to better support her child. “He’s teething and… I think they’re sharp teeth. Not blunt human teeth.”
Grace’s eyes flickered down to the infant, her eyebrows pulling in before she leaned forward. “Which makes feeding him a lot harder too.”
Paz’z hand came to her breasts. “Yep, I am well aware.”
“He can’t be on your milk forever. His diet… may be more human than ours but… he won’t suit for fruit or veg if his teeth are sharp.” A meat eater, most likely seemed the next logical conclusion that made sense for his biology. His body would need more than blood.
“I was thinking that but… where are we to get his food without questions? People will wonder why he won’t eat fruit. Hell, if anyone sees him licking some bloody meat, they’re gonna be concerned.”
“Humans can eat Hexepede meat, maybe we could get him onto Pandoran meat?” Grace suggested.
“We can’t consume Pandoran blood, Grace. I doubt he’ll be able to stomach it.” Paz stroked her son’s hair cautiously.
Grace sighed but Paz wasn’t incorrect. It wasn’t for the lack of trying but for some reason, they couldn’t keep animal blood from the wildlife down. She had tried, Mansk had tried when he first turned and even Choi had tried. It was weird, the blood was more or less the same in iron-based composition, with the same necessary proteins and nutrients but…they just couldn’t keep it down.
“He still has his human side, that’s still vastly more prominent.” Grace tried, “We should at least try. If not, we can rethink on blood redistribution with me. Soak what meat the mess has in blood and let him have that.”
Paz wrinkled her nose but nodded. “I suppose. But…his breathing is also different. The gaps between his breaths are longer now. I… I think he’s becoming less dependent on oxygen, or at least is more tolerant of lower oxygen levels.”
“His fingers not changed colour?”
“No, his heart is normal, skin nice and pink.” Paz tugged a little hand into view, Mile’s little hands coming to clench around her index finger.
“Tomorrow night, have Solis take a look at his lungs. Medical scanners may show something. If his lungs are different, we should see if he’s able to breathe Pandoran air—not actually test it!” she added at the alarmed expression on Paz’s face. “I mean a simple biopsy should reveal. We won’t hurt him but…if he’s caught out; you’re caught out, you need to know if he’s safe to leave at a moment’s notice. A mask won’t fit him until he’s about six unless you hand-make him masks.” She clarified.
Paz’s expression didn’t waver, looking down at the baby in concern. “I can’t leave him with my human friends when his teeth erupt. His bites will be less than amusing. He won’t understand…”
“I can’t be around as much but… Maze or the other scientists would be at your disposal.” She didn’t trust Shen or Hendrick within ten paces of a baby, she cared little about Mansk or Walker on their childcare expertise. Hale would be another option but the woman was the new MineOps head. Less time on her hands.
“If I could join you at Site 26…”
Grace moved from her desk to sit beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Right now, I can’t be sure that’s a good idea. I need to know how one vampire works remotely with a small supply drop. Another with a half-human…might be too much.” She couldn’t say no, but she couldn’t say yes either.
Paz slouched a little, shifting Miles to rest against her shoulder. “I’m just…worried. If his vampire abilities kick in early…he could start climbing the walls…or morph or…something.”
“If he’s babysat with a vampire, then we’ll stop him from doing anything in the company of humans,” Grace assured.
“Okay… but can you look after him now? I need to eat.”
Grace opened her arms for the near-five-month-old. “Of course.” She wouldn’t say no to this. He was deep asleep and a comforting weight of warmth. She had fed a little earlier, so she was good for now.
 -
Jake woke groggily the next morning, his mouth feeling dry and a weight on his stomach. The rim of his mask dug straight in to the side of his face which promised a lingering ache. It took a moment to fully wake up, blinking to see Nadine was using his stomach as a pillow and had somehow wiggled across the den floor to her current position without her other arm or leg still.
Jake tapped on the front of her mask to wake her.
“No.” She grumbled.
“You’re on me. Get off.” He grumbled.
“Comfy.”
“I’m not.” He tapped on her mask until she got annoyed enough to sit up and flash him a middle finger then slunked across the den to retrieve her limbs.
Jake tested his neck, feeling the relieving cracks as the pressure changed then waited.
Tsu’tey was the first to come in. His eyes remained to the still avatar on the mat. “We’ve got Pa’li ready to take you back to your camp, Jakesully. Ikran will take the other camps back.”
“Have they left yet?” Jake asked.
“No, but they’re preparing to. One team is waiting for the Dreamwalker to stir first.”
Jake nodded, “I need to talk to all of them before they leave. They don’t know about vampires. They should be told.”
Tsu’tey’s head tilted. “They are eager to return. You do not have a lot of time, and Neytiri mentioned it would be hard for them to believe you.”
Jake considered his words for a moment. “Would you help me? They know that you are a serious and fierce warrior and unlikely to joke and… well you’ve seen two vampires yourself.”
Tsu’tey’s expression turned somewhat into a frown but he reflected his words. “I can if it’s required.”
“Thank you.”
 -
Getting the hungry and tired groups together took longer than Jake planned, and they sat waiting in a ring near the spiral for the last of the dregs to arrive. Jake sat in his chair, Tsu’tey standing tall beside him as they waited.
“What’s this about, Jake?” Harper yawned, “I wanna go home.”
“I’ve got something to say and…it’s…kinda important for the long-term knowledge.” Jake started, “it…sort of needs an open mind from all of you.”
There was a non-committed, tired confirmation from them as a whole.
“So, Kim and Jerome know about this,” Jake started, seeing the realising cross over the two avatars quickly before Kim rolled her eyes in exasperation, Jerome just…stood there awkwardly. “They don’t really believe and I’m not asking you to believe me either but…as a culture, we’ve been led to believe that myths and stories are just fictional and that…some things don’t exist when…they do.” He started, “So, I will say this thing is real because on Earth I saw shit in the war that validated this thing’s existence, Morgan himself got attacked in Hell’s Gate about it and I’ve seen all evidence on a few people.”
“What is going on here?” Eytukan appeared, eyeing their overly large group forming up. “Is there a problem to be resolved? You are due to return back to your camps, are you not?”
“They are, Eytukan. But Jake is simply informing the new sky people about the blood demons that live in the sky people's village before they go.” Tsu’tey spoke suddenly.
Eytukan nodded softly in understanding. “Now?”
“Blood demon?” Mingxia cocked her head, her voice more of a whisper as she proposed the question to her group. “What the fuck is that?”
“Your people call them Vampires,” Tsu’tey answered as if it was obvious.
The looks of disbelief were immediate, making Jake groan internally at their blatant dismissive nature. Though Jake noted a little of how Ashley’s ears pinned back uncertainly though Kendra’s face lost all colour and tensed up.
Eytukan looked a little surprised at their reaction then seemed to snort in amusement. “Interesting, you do not believe so easily?”
Tsu’tey shorted a little. “<Morons.>”
Jake gave Tsu’tey a soft look, understanding enough to know what he said.
“Jake, please tell me you didn’t convince these people that they actually exist,” Harper sighed. “Vampires are fictional.”
Ashely made an odd noise in the back of her throat, coming to fiddle the end of her tail in her blue fingers. “Not…well, I wouldn’t dismiss it.”
Harper and a few others looked to their camp mate in surprise, “Wait, you believe him?”
Ashely’s ears turned pink, “Look… I saw a few weird things with no context and… I do. Kinda.”
“What weird thing?” Eytukan asked before any of the others could talk her down. “I am interested to know how these beings are living among your kind so silently and with little notice.”
Ashely dropped her tail. “Well, the main thing I sorta remember was…after I got stabbed. I was found by a pilot, Socorro. I was a little out of it but…she got Dr Augustine to help. They must have thought I was too out of it to remember. The pilot’s eyes were like…a black. She used to have brown eyes yet they like…blacked out.” She said, her tail swishing anxiously.
“Entirely or just the iris?” Jake asked.
“Just the iris.” Ashly said, “But… I mostly remember how cold their hand were. Augustine had to hold my neck to keep the blade from slippin’, you see. There might have been some hissing, I think I may have seen some sharp teeth but… I can’t fully recall the details. I didn’t know what I was seeing.”
“You were bleeding out, hallucinations aren’t uncommon.” Harper pointed out dryly.
“What would make you believe?” Jake asked, “Like, Morgan’s got a few bites. I’m sure he can show it to you for proof.”
Morgan squirmed a little to be in the limelight of the uncertain gaze.
“I have seen them myself. You would not call me a liar now, would you?” Tsu’tey spoke.
There was no comment, but uncertainly and some natural disbelief remained in a few of their eyes.  
“Wait, I have an idea…” Kendra stood up and pulled a torch from her belt, one of three she had then stepped around the group towards the former soldier. “Where?”
“What are you doing?” Morgan asked wearily, eyeing the torch
“Looking for proof, now show me, boy.” She asked, though a little impatient.
Morgan glowered but nonetheless shrugged off his vest and leaned his head to the side. It took a second to see before they noticed the reflection across the skin in how the light caught the scars. The bites seemed to reflect almost silvery against Morgan’s dark skin, the one along his neck and shoulder were more prominent of course but…Jake realised that it wasn’t just two scars that lined his skin. If you didn’t include the bite set (like top and lower jaw), then there were at least seven more marks that lingered as she shone the light further across and checked the other side of his neck and shoulders.
“Oh…fuck.” Ashley winced, a little taken back, “Okay, yep that’s nasty.”
“Guys?” Morgan looked worried, “How many times was I bitten? What do you see?”
“A few,” Jake said tightly, glad that one of the others in the group had shut up and looked far more seriously.
Both Tsu’tey and Eytukan watched with a more weary eye.
“They must be venomous, and from…my assumption since I found this out last week, is that the venom contains a fluorescent molecule that lingers in human flesh. Humans have things in our own biology that glow under black light like saliva or blood, so not foreign enough that our bodies don’t break it down. The skin scars have been healed but…the scars of their bites are otherwise still present, even if we can’t see them.” Kendra summarised, though to prove her point, she turned the light to her own neck which showed a horrifying litter of bite marks that disappeared down clothes.
No one was laughing. No one was dismissive. Just shocked silence as Kendra shone the light onto Harper next who squeaked as at learning least three bites were on her neck, one on her left forearm close to her elbow.
“What is that light?” Eytukan asked, following along as Kendra continued to check everyone over.
“Blacklight. Like Na’vi, there’s a visual spectrum of light that we can and cannot see. UV light is a light a little out of our visual spectrum though your people would see it more clearly than us. If we lit a room with UV light or this version of UVA; the black light, the room would look dark to us. UV light can be reflective off certain things. Biological things can…reflect into our visual spectrum when in contact with UV light. Blood, saliva…other bodily fluids than show up in this light as well.” Kendra explained to the chief.
“Oh, come on!” Nadine groaned as a few marks shone up on her flesh arm and shoulder “Me?!”
Jake leant into the light when she got to him with it, allowing her to check his neck and arms though she had to double-check before she answered, “You’re clear. No bites.”
“Oh, good.” Jake felt a swell of relief; he hadn’t been someone’s snack, ever. What a relief. Still, he could pity the others a little. That was one nasty wake-up call to the reality of their monsters.
“Hey, why’s he clear and we’re not?” Nadine asked, looking a little offended.
“To be fair, he has—relatively speaking— just arrived at Pandora” Morgan pointed out, thumbing grumpily over an invisible scar. “Piped up on cryo drugs no doubt, no one wants a snack from that. You’ve been in Hell’s Gate for years. ”
“Lucky ass.” One of the group complained.
“So, I hope that’s enough proof to believe me,” Jake said, glad for one for this discovery; that should shed away disbelief in case anyone else came. “Right now—“
“Oh, what the fuc—What is that!”
Heads turned to see Zane under the light and while he too wasn’t spared the bites, it was the skeletal hand on the back of his flesh one that threw Kendra off.
“It’s okay! It’s okay! It’s my tattoo!” Zane laughed, “It’s a UV Tattoo. It only shows up under UV light.”
“Why didn’t you mention it before?! You freaked me out!”
“I forgot! I can’t see it and I’ve been busy!”
Jake sniggered a little, the tension easing a little. “As I was saying, it’s a lot to process so let’s take today to process this. You can ask questions when we next meet up. But… this is something you need to be aware of. We don’t know how long they’ve been in Hell’s Gate for but we know that they’re using secrecy to keep the peace and eat undisturbed. We don’t want that secret to be spilled—”
“We don’t?!” Harper scoffed, shaking her head. “
“If Hell’s Gate finds out, then the vampires can leave then we’re on the menu. We’re not so protected. The Na’vi cannot protect us against these creatures. So, if you have garlic cloves in your supplies, get them growing then we can trade with them.”
“We have some garlic, and some other root veg” Ruby spoke, “I hate working with garlic. So much fucking paperwork to get into the damn cloves.” She mimed the peeling process with distaste as she got to her feet, tugging Zane up to his feet.
With a dismissing word from Eytukan, the group got up and began to disperse to their rides home.
“Thank you,” Jake added to Tsu’tey mostly.
Tsu’tey’s head nose, curtly nodding. “You are welcome, Jakesully.”
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29 / 11 / 2022
🇬🇧🇺🇸 ENGLISH / ANGLAIS 🇬🇧🇺🇸
PERSONAL FICTIONAL STORY
HUMILIATED BY A CELEBRITY #40 :
NEYMAR, professional football player (1992)
Special guest-star : DRAKE, Canadian singer
Dear readers, this is already the 40th story in the series HUMILIATED BY A CELEBRITY 😁 !!!!!!! I wouldn't have continued if you hadn't been there, so please always be so many to like, reblog and comment on my stories so that I feel supported. I've written about many famous alpha males, whether gay or straight, black or white, French, English, American or otherwise. Whether they are actors, singers, sportsmen....
For this fortieth, I had to mark the occasion with a very handsome and well-liked muscular man. Brazilian professional footballer Neymar is incredibly handsome, I would love to kiss him. I have no chance of doing it, but I made up this story in which a man - whose physical appearance and age is not specified so that everyone can imagine themselves in his place - will become tiny. The hero is going to get tiny, and this is one of the first times I've written about miniaturization. I hope that you will like.
And see you in at number 41 of this series, I hope that many of you will still love this series, because I have ideas for yet another ten episodes of this history series. 😁
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THE SPORT PLAYERS, THE NEW KINGS #2
- KING NEYMAR AND HIS TINY SLAVE -
- CHAPTER 1 - AT NEYMAR'S SERVICE -
Captain of the Brazil national football team, Neymar da Silva Santos Júnior, said Neymar Jr., more commonly known as Neymar, was a king in the eyes of his fans. Time after time, he had started to behave like one. His luxurious lifestyle reflected his taste for celebration and debauchery. As a player of the Paris-Saint-Germain (PSG) team, he was approached by luxury brands to be a model. As a professional footballer, his talent impressed his competitors. Arrogant and superficial, he was also funny and kind to the people he loved.
Neymar, this handsome Brazilian player, had a personal assistant. This one had been in the service of the star for a short time. The previous one had left for an unknown reason. Neymar therefore needed a new personal secretary, someone to manage his social networks and his appointments.
The new man chosen was called Elio, a young Parisian so happy to be behind the scenes at the club in his city. His knowledge of English allowed him to travel with Neymar on his professional and personal trips. His tasks were fairly standard: managing his boss's calls and appointments. Satisfied with his particular assistant's submission, Neymar gave Elio more specific orders, such as carrying his luggage, serving drinks at his parties, and washing his clothes.
But the worst was to come.
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One day, Neymar was on his big bed looking at several dozen shoes he had put on the blanket. It was just part of his large shoe collection. There were over 1000! Anyway, he looked at Elio with a smile.
NEYMAR: "Little Elio, I made you come to my room because I didn't know which pair of shoes to put on, so I tried them all. But now they're mixed up, so you're going to put them away in pairs. But to put them back together, my shoes will have to be licked! Yes, Elio, you will lick my shoes to put them back in pairs! Consider yourself lucky that I don't leave you a specific time, but if you take too long to lick them and put them back in pairs, I will have to punish you! Ahahah!"
Then Neymar put two socks over Elio's eyes and around his head to prevent him from seeing. According to his boss's will, his tongue would be his only way to find his boss's pairs of shoes and put them back together in pairs. Elio started licking the shoes, and the bright colors didn't help him given his blindness. He could use different textures, softer or rougher fabrics. The soles had different patterns, not counting those that had heels or studs. Neymar was amused to see Elio licking his shoes.
When Elio licked one shoe, he licked another until he found the one that looked like the one he licked first. He had to show memorization and speed, but his tongue hurt from licking everything. Neymar was spitting in his mouth so that he had saliva.
It lasted more than an hour and Neymar enjoyed this spectacle of submission.
NEYMAR: "It took you an hour to find my shoes and put them in pairs, I expect you to do it faster next time! It's with your tongue that my shoes will be cleaned from now on. both outside and inside! Now put them away, my little Elio!"
Some time later, Neymar forces his personal assistant to massage his feet. His long, hot, sweaty feet are even more tired after his practices or matches. Accustomed to directing others, to walking, jumping, running,... Neymar likes having his feet massaged. Neymar's height 41 (8.5 US) feet are impressive and Elio is quickly getting used to serving his master. But this one quickly tires of the obedience of his slave.
-
- CHAPTER 2 - THE TRANSFORMATION -
During a trip to Brazil where he is with the national football team, he enjoys a guided visit to an ancient temple of a pre-Columbian civilization. He is particularly intrigued by a book of spells. He asks the temple guide the meaning of a page where a normal-sized man can be seen becoming tiny. The guide explains that the page of the grimoire shown to her by Neymar represents a spell that reduces the size of a human to the point that they become tiny.
Neymar takes advantage of the guide moving away to take a picture of the page, goes to a site to translate the ancient Brazilian language, and realizes that the ingredients for creating the spell are all in Brazil. Neymar finds his personal assistant, who is carrying his jacket and his bag and had waited for him quietly outside the temple.
Neymar sends him to buy the ingredients he needs to create the miniaturization spell, without specifying the reason for these purchases. Elio does all the shopping possible to find the precious ingredients.
Returning to Neymar's villa, Elio brings him the ingredients and Neymar sends him to lick his shoes to occupy him. Obediently, Elio goes to his boss's shoe cabinet to lick them. Neymar takes the opportunity to prepare the spell. He mixes herbs, flowers and spices, boils the mixture in hot water and then lets it cool.
Once the potion is ready, the color red makes you thirsty, so Neymar pours red fruit juice into another glass to trick Elio into thinking it's the same drink. Then he takes the glasses and goes to his room where he sees this pathetic little Parisian licking the soles of his shoes.
NEYMAR: "How many have you already licked?"
ELIO: "40 pairs, sir."
NEYMAR: "40 pairs?! That means you just licked 80 shoe soles!! Ahahah ha!!!! Well, I served you a red fruit juice, drink it with me."
ELIO: "Thank you sir."
To Neymar's satisfaction, Elio drinks the shrinking potion!
Elio was very small, he was only 35 cm tall and he was under his clothes, which had become too big for him. Neymar took it in his hand and lifted it in front of him. Elio was very small and screamed when he found himself face to face with Neymar.
ELIO: "Boss, how did you become a giant?"
NEYMAR: "It's not me who's giant, it's you who's tiny! And now it's time for me to relieve myself."
BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!
A powerful burp almost took Elio's head off! The stench had gone straight to his face.
NEYMAR: "Ahahahahahahahah!!!!! Your face when my burp surprised you!!! Ahahahahahah!!!! Well, glad to have known you but now I'm going to eat you!"
Neymar opened his mouth and was about to drop Elio into his mouth to eat him alive, but he was struggling.
ELIO: "Please, boss, don't eat me alive!!!! I don't know what I did to make you turn me tiny, but I would do anything to stay alive!!!!"
NEYMAR: "Very well from now on you are mine! My feet sweat a lot so you will absorb the sweat from my feet."
Reluctantly, Elio had no choice but to be put against the sole of his former boss's right foot, who then slipped a sock over it. Elio was now glued to Neymar's right foot warm in his sock. Then the Brazilian footballer put his shoes on, and Elio was even tighter against the sole of his foot.
Throughout Neymar's football training, Elio was swallowing liters of sweat from his master's foot. He was a little under the size of his master's foot so all the sweat went straight into his mouth. The worst part was less the smell or taste of foot sweat than Neymar's weight on him because, despite the softness of the sock, Elio was crushed by Neymar. He was running, jumping and kicking the ball hard, which really hurt Elio.
When the training was over, Neymar did not take off his socks directly and waited until he was at home to order his tiny slave, who was completely naked, to massage his feet with his small hands, to lick the other foot in which he had not been. Despite his tiny size, Elio properly licked his master's feet and his tiny tongue passionately licked the sweat and dirt left by the socks. At night, Neymar made Elio sleep in his dirty sock.
The days passed like this for Elio: after a night's sleep in his master's dirty sock, he spent the day in his foot, a different foot each day. His new size had changed his eating habits: sweat from his feet and dirt was enough to be fit.
Neymar had fun with his tiny slave and enjoyed watching him lick his big feet.
-
- CHAPTER 3 - NEYMAR, KING OF BRAZIL -
One day, Neymar was invited to a star party, and he met the Canadian singer Drake, of whom he was a fan. The singer and actor Drake is a giant of 1 m 93, a manly bearded man very cuddly but very dominant. He put his muscular arm around the handsome Neymar's neck.
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DRAKE: "Hey Neymar! It's ok, man! By the way, tell me, where did your servant go? the one who often walks behind you like a dog!"
NEYMAR: "Why Drake, do you want to fuck him?"
DRAKE: "No, I already have slaves for that, and I can have anyone I want. But you told me he's good at cleaning shoes and feet. I thought you could have let me use it a bit, Neymar"
NEYMAR : "Yes, but he's not here."
DRAKE: "So where is he?"
NEYMAR: "In my foot. Come on, I'll show you."
The great Canadian singer and the beautiful Brazilian footballer went to a discreet room, where Neymar took off his shoe and his sock in order to show his tiny slave to Drake. Far from having compassion for the fate of the tiny slave, Drake burst out laughing!
DRAKE: "You mean to tell me that pathetic slave is stuck in your shoe during the day and in your sock at night?! Ahhahah, what a loser! I'm sure a lot of little white guys must be dreaming of being in my foot!"
NEYMAR : "Okay, I'll sell you the spell in exchange for your financial help for a political pyojet that I'm carrying. You won't have to donate a lot or do it officially, but I need the money. Of course. I am very rich but I would need money to spare in case my project fails, or even if it succeeds."
DRAKE: "I'm so rich I don't mind buying you this spell. The prospect of turning little white guys into footlickers excites me. What's your plan?"
NEYMAR: "Oh not much.... Just the restoration of the monarchy in Brazil. The last Emperor of Brazil was Peter II. He was deposed in 1889, and since then Brazil has certainly succeeded in becoming an influential country but it is plagued by lobbies and we must be more proactive in favor of ecology. I despite myself gave the image of a man who did not care about ecological problems, but I must help my country not only by being captain of the Brazil national football team!"
DRAKE: "If helping you become the new King of Brazil is the price to pay to get the shrinking potion recipe then I'll be happy to do it!"
To celebrate this alliance Neymar forced Elio to lick Drake's enormous feet, and seeing a tiny one trying to suck his toes confirmed Drake's desire for a tiny foot licker. He figured he could use it to lick other parts of his body.
Several months passed and, thanks to the financing of the sublime Canadian singer Drake and his own money, Neymar had made an electoral campaign to become the new King of Brazil. Supported by environmental activists and lovers of social justice, Neymar had succeeded in being elected King of Brazil. He was the first ruler since the ill-fated Peter II, who died in exile in France two years after his dismissal in 1889. Elio had lived through this election campaign stuck in his master's foot, in a different foot each day.
With Neymar's accession to the throne of Portugal, Drake had obtained the recipe for the shrinking spell from the former captain of the Brazil national football team. So it's with an Asian boy in his left foot, a White boy in his right foot, a White boy stuck in his left armpit, a Black boy in his right armpit, and a cute White woman in his ass. Three of them had been miniaturized against their will, but the other two had been shrunk on purpose in order to worship Drake and his sublime body.
It was therefore with his tiny slaves under him that Drake attended the coronation of Neymar as King of Brazil and founder of the Neymar Dynasty.
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At this event, Neymar wore a coronation coat representing his country, Brazil, and the city with which he achieved success: the long, thick fur coat was embroidered with the emblem of PSG and the flag of Brazil. It was with this outfit that he had himself represented on a huge royal painting.
Every day, King Neymar I of Brazil received subjects who came to thank him for his action in favor of the people, but he continued to play in the national team of Brazil. On his throne, he wore his sublime crown and had his feet massaged by his tiny slave. For his devotion, Elio received the honor of licking the body, the muscular and sweating torso of his King.
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Life was good for Neymar, who was improving the lives of his people, and it was good too for Elio, who had nothing to do but lick the King's feet, even if that also meant being crushed. under his feet or in his armpits. Long live King Neymar of Brazil!
END OF THE STORY
⚽🇧🇷⚽🇧🇷⚽🇧🇷⚽🇧🇷⚽🇧🇷⚽🇧🇷⚽🇧🇷⚽🇧🇷
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🇨🇵 FRANÇAIS / FRENCH 🇨🇵
HISTOIRE FICTIVE PERSONNELLE
HUMILIÉ PAR UNE CÉLÉBRITÉ #40 :
NEYMAR, footballeur professionnel (1992)
Apparition spéciale : DRAKE, chanteur
Chers lecteurs, c'est déjà la 40ème histoire de la série HUMILIÉ PAR UNE CÉLÉBRITÉ!!!!!!! Je n'aurais pas continué si vous n'aviez pas été là, alors s'il vous plaît soyez toujours aussi nombreux à liker, rebloguer et commenter mes histoires afin que je me sente soutenu.
J'ai écrit sur de nombreux mâles alphas célèbres, qu'ils soient gay ou hétéros, Noirs ou Blancs, Français, Anglais, Américains ou autre. Qu'ils soient acteurs, chanteurs, sportifs....
Pour cette quarantième, je devais marquer le coup avec un homme musclé très beau et très apprécié. Le footballeur professionnel brésilien Neymar est d'une incroyable beauté, j'aimerais énormément l'embrasser. Je n'ai aucune chance de le faire, mais j'ai inventé cette histoire dans laquelle un homme va être miniaturisé.
L'apparence physique et l'âge du héros n'est pas précisé afin que chacun puisse s'imaginer à sa place. Celui-ci va devenir minuscule, et c'est l'une des premières fois que j'écris sur la miniaturisation. J'espère que vous aimerez.
Et rendez-vous dans au numéro 41 de cette série, j'espère que vous serez toujours aussi nombreux à aimer cette série, car j'ai des idées pour encore une autre dizaine d'épisodes de cette série d'histoire. 😁
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LES SPORTIFS, LES NOUVEAUX ROIS #2
- NEYMAR ET SON ESCLAVE MINUSCULE -
- CHAPITRE 1 - AU SERVICE DE NEYMAR -
Capitaine de l'équipe nationale de football du Brésil, Neymar da Silva Santos Júnior, dit Neymar Jr., plus couramment appellé Neymar, était un roi aux yeux de ses fans. À force, il avait commencé à se comporter comme tel. Son train de vie luxueux reflétait son goût de la fête et de la débauche.
En tant que joueur de l'Équipe du Paris-Saint-Germain (PSG), il était approché par des marques de luxe pour être mannequin. En tant que footballeur professionnel, son talent impressionnait ses concurrents. Arrogant et superficiel, il était aussi drôle et gentil avec les gens qu'il aime.
Neymar, ce beau joueur brésilien, avait un assistant personnel. Celui-ci était au service de la star depuis peu de temps. Le précédent était parti pour une raison inconnu. Neymar avait donc besoin d'un nouveau secrétaire personnel, quelqu'un pour gérer ses réseaux sociaux et ses rendez-vous.
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Le nouvel homme choisi s'appelait Elio, un jeune Parisien si heureux d'être dans les coulisses du club de sa ville. Sa connaissance de l'anglais lui permit de partir en voyage avec Neymar dans ses déplacements professionnels et personnels. Ses tâches étaient assez classiques : gérer les appels et les rendez-vous de son patron. Satisfait de la soumission de son assistant particulier, Neymar donna des ordres plus précis à Elio, tels que porter ses bagages, servir des boissons lors de ses soirées, et laver ses vêtements.
Mais le pire allait venir.
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Un jour, Neymar était sur son grand lit et regardait plusieurs dizaines de chaussures qu'il avait posé sur la couverture. Ce n'était qu'une partie de sa grande collection de chaussures. Il en avait plus de 1000 ! Quoiqu'il en soit, il le regarda avec un sourire.
NEYMAR : "Bon Elio je t'ai fait venir dans ma chambre car je savais pas quelle paire de chaussures mettre alors je les ai toutes essayées. Mais maintenant elles sont mélangées, alors tu vas les ranger par paires. Mais pour les reconstituer par paires, mes chaussures devront être léchées ! Oui, Elio, tu vas lécher mes chaussures pour refaire les paires ! Estime toi heureux que je ne te laisse pas un temps précis, mais si tu prends trop de temps pour les lécher et les remettre par paires, je serai obligé de te punir ! Ahahah !"
Puis Neymar mit deux chaussettes sur les yeux et autour de la tête d'Elio afin de l'empêcher de voir. Selon la volonté de son patron, sa langue serait son seul moyen pour trouver les paires de chaussures de son patron et les reconstituer par paires.
Elio se mit à lécher les chaussures, et les couleurs vives ne lui étaient d'aucune aide étant donné son aveuglement. Il pouvait s'aider des textures différentes, des tissus plus doux ou plus rugueux. Les semelles avaient des motifs différents, sans compter celles qui avaient des talons ou des crampons. Neymar s'amusait de voir Elio lécher ses chaussures.
Quand Elio avait lèché une chaussure, il en léchait d'autre jusqu'à ce qu'il trouve celle qui était ressemblante à celle qu'il avait lèché en premier. Il devait faire preuve de mémorisation et de rapidité, mais il avait mal à la langue à force de tout lécher. Neymar lui crachait dans la bouche pour qu'il ait de la salive. Cela dura plus d'une heure et Neymar apprécia ce spectacle de soumission.
NEYMAR : "Tu as mis une heure pour retrouver mes chaussures et les mettre par paire, j'attends de toi que tu fasses plus vite la prochaine fois ! C'est avec ta langue que seront nettoyés mes chaussures à partir de maintenant, l'extérieur comme l'intérieur ! Maintenant vas les ranger, mon petit Elio !"
Quelques temps plus tard, Neymar oblige son assistant personnel à lui masser les pieds. Ses longs pieds chauds et suants sont encore plus fatigués après ses entraînements ou ses matchs. Habitué à diriger les autres, à marcher, sauter, courir,..., Neymar aime qu'on lui masse les pieds. Les pieds de taille 41 (8.5 US) de Neymar sont impressionnants et Elio s'habitue rapidement à servir son maître. Mais celui-ci se lasse vite de l'obéissance de son esclave.
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- CHAPITRE 2 - LA TRANSFORMATION -
Lors d'un voyage au Brésil où il est avec l'équipe de foot nationale, il profite d'une visite guidée dans un ancien temple d'une civilisation précolombienne. Il est particulièrement intrigué par un livre de sortilèges. Il demande au guide du temple la signification d'une page où l'on peut voir un homme de taille normale devenir minuscule. La guide explique que la page du grimoire que lui montre Neymar représente un sortilège qui réduit la taille d'un humain au point qu'ils deviennent minuscules.
Neymar profite que la guide s'éloigne pour prendre en photo la page, se rend sur un site permettant de traduire l'ancienne langue brésilienne, et se rend compte que les ingrédients permettant la création du sortilège se trouvent tous au Brésil.
Neymar retrouve son assistant personnel, qui porte sa veste et son sac et l'avait attendu sagement à l'extérieur du temple.
Neymar l'envoie lui acheter les ingrédients qu'il a besoin pour créer le sortilège de miniaturisation, sans préciser la raison de ces achats.
Elio fait tout les magasins possibles pour trouver les précieux ingrédients. Revenu à la villa de Neymar, Elio lui apporte les ingrédients et Neymar l'envoie lécher ses chaussures pour l'occuper.
Obéissant, Elio se rend dans l'armoire aux chaussures de son patron pour les lécher. Neymar en profite pour préparer le sortilège. Il mélange les herbes, les fleurs et les épices, fait bouillir le mélange dans de l'eau chaude et laisse ensuite refroidir.
Une fois la potion prête, la couleur rouge donne soif, alors Neymar se sert de jus de fruits rouges dans un autre verre afin de faire croire à Elio que c'est la même boisson. Puis il prend les verres et se rend dans sa chambre où il voit ce pathétique petit parisien en train de lécher les semelles de ses chaussures.
NEYMAR : "Tu en as déjà lèché combien ?"
ELIO : "40 paires, monsieur."
NEYMAR : "40 paires ?! Ça veut dire que tu viens de lécher 80 semelles de chaussures!! Ahahah ha !!!! Bon bah je t'ai servis un jus de fruits rouges, bois le avec moi."
ELIO : "Merci Monsieur."
À la satisfaction de Neymar, Elio boit la potion de rétrécissement !
Elio était tout petit, il ne mesurait plus que 35 cm et il était sous ses vêtements, devenus trop grands pour lui.
Neymar l'a prit dans sa main et la soulevé devant lui. Elio était tout petit et cria lorsqu'il se retrouva face au visage de Neymar.
ELIO : "Patron, comment êtes-vous devenu un géant ?"
NEYMAR : "Ce n'est pas moi qui suis géant, c'est toi qui est minuscule ! Et maintenant il est temps pour moi de me soulager."
BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTTTT !!!!!!!!
Un rot puissant faillit décoller la tête d'Elio ! La puanteur était allé directement sur son visage.
NEYMAR : "Ahahahahahahahah!!!!! Ta tête quand mon rot t'as surpris !!! Ahahahahahah !!!! Bon, ravi de t'avoir connu mais maintenant je vais te manger!"
Neymar ouvrit sa bouche et s'apprêtait à lâcher Elio dans sa bouche pour le manger vivant, mais celui-ci se débattait.
ELIO: "Pitié, patron, ne me mangez pas vivant !!!! Je ne sais pas ce que j'ai fait pour que vous me transformiez en minuscule, mais je ferais tout pour rester vivant !!!!"
NEYMAR : "Très bien à partir de maintenant tu es à moi ! Je sue beaucoup des pieds alors tu vas absorber la sueur de mes pieds."
À contrecœur, Elio n'eut pas d'autre choix que celui d'être mis contre la semelle du pied droit de son ancien patron, qui enfila ensuite une chaussette par-dessus.
Elio était désormais collé au pied droit de Neymar au chaud dans sa chaussette. Puis le footballeur brésilien a mit ses chaussures, et Elio était encore plus serré contre la semelle du pied.
Tout au long de l'entraînement de football de Neymar, Elio avalait les litres de sueur de pied de son maître. Il faisait un peu moins de la taille du pied de son maître donc toute la sueur allait directement dans sa bouche. Le pire c'était moins l'odeur ou le goût de la sueur du pied que le poid de Neymar sur lui car, malgré la douceur de la chausette, Elio était écrasé par Neymar. Celui-ci courait, sautait et donnait de grands coups de pied dans le ballon, ce qui avait pour conséquence de vraiment faire souffrir Elio.
Lorsque l'entraînement fut terminé, Neymar ne retira pas ses chausettes directement et attendit d'être chez lui pour ordonner à son esclave minuscule, qui était tout nu, de lui masser les pieds avec ses petites mains, de lécher l'autre pied dans lequel il n'avait pas été.
Malgré sa taille toute petite, Elio a convenablement lèché les pieds de son maître et sa langue minuscule léchait avec passion la sueur et la saleté laissée par les chausettes.
La nuit, Neymar fit dormir Elio dans sa chausette sale.
Les jours se passaient ainsi pour Elio : après une nuit de sommeil dans une chausette sale de son maître, il passait la journée dans son pied, un pied différent par jour. Sa nouvelle taille avait changé ses habitudes alimentaires : de la sueur de pieds et de la saleté suffisait à être en forme.
Neymar s'amusait avec son esclave minuscule et aimait le voir lécher ses grands pieds.
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CHAPITRE 3 - NEYMAR, LE ROI DU BRÉSIL
Un jour, Neymar fut invité à une soirée de stars, et il retrouva le chanteur canadien Drake dont il était fan.
Le chanteur et acteur Drake est un géant d'1 m 93, un barbu viril très câlin mais très dominant. Il passa son bras musclé autour du cou du beau Neymar.
DRAKE : "Hey Neymar ! Ça va, mec ! Au fait dis-moi, où est donc passé ton petit larbin qui traîne souvent derrière toi tel un chien ?!"
NEYMAR : "Pourquoi Drake, t'as envie de le baiser ?"
DRAKE : "Non j'ai déjà des esclaves pour ça, et je peut avoir n'importe qui que je veut. Mais tu m'avais dit qu'il est doué en nettoyage de chaussures et de pieds. Ça te dérangerait de me le prêter ?"
NEYMAR : "Oui, mais il n'est pas ici."
DRAKE : "Alors où est-il ?"
NEYMAR : "Dans mon pied. Viens je vais te montrer."
Le grand chanteur canadien et le beau footballeur brésilien se sont rendu dans une pièce discrète, où Neymar retira sa chaussure et sa chausette afin de montrer son esclave minuscule à Drake. Loin d'avoir de la compassion pour le destin de l'esclave minuscule, Drake explosa de rire !
DRAKE : "Tu veut me dire que ce minable esclave est coincé dans ta chaussure la journée et dans ta chaussette la nuit ?! Ahhahah, quel loser ! Je suis sûr que pleins de petits mecs Blancs doivent rêver d'être dans mon pied !"
NEYMAR : "D'accord, je te vendrai le sortilège en échange de ton aide financière pour un pyojet politique que je porte. Tu seras as obligé de donner beaucoup ni de le faire officiellement, mais j'ai besoin d'argent. Bien sûr je suis très riche mais j'aurais besoin d'argent de côté au cas où mon projet échoue, ou même s'il réussit."
DRAKE : "Je suis si riche que ça me dérange pas de t'acheter ce sortilège. La perspective de transformer des petits gars Blancs en lécheurs de pieds m'excite. Quel est ton projet ?"
NEYMAR : "Oh pas grand chose.... Simplement le rétablissement de la monarchie au Brésil. Le dernier Empereur du Brésil était Pierre II. Il a été destitué en 1889, et depuis le Brésil a certes réussi à devenir un pays influent mais il est gangrèné par des lobbies et nous devons nous montrer plus proactif en faveur de l'écologie. J'ai malgré moi donné l'image d'un homme qui se fichait des problèmes écologiques, mais je dois aider mon pays pas uniquement en étant capitaine de l'équipe nationale de football du Brésil!"
DRAKE :" Si t'aider à devenir le nouveau Roi du Brésil est le prix à payer pour obtenir la recette de la potion de rétrécissement alors je serai heureux de le faire !"
Pour fêter cette alliance Neymar obligea Elio à lécher les énormes pieds de Drake, et voir un minuscule tenter de sucer ses orteils conforta Drake dans son envie d'avoir un minuscule lécheur de pieds. Il se disait qu'il pourrait l'utiliser pour lécher d'autres parties de son corps.
Plusieurs mois sont passés et, grâce au financement du sublime chanteur canadien Drake et de son propre argent, Neymar avait fait une campagne électorale pour devenir le nouveau Roi du Brésil. Soutenu par des militants écologistes et épris de justice social, Neymar avait réussi à être élu Roi du Brésil.
Il était le premier souverain depuis l'infortuné Pierre II, qui était mort en exil en France deux ans après sa destitution en 1889. Elio avait vécu cette campagne électorale coincé dans le pied de son maître, dans un pied différent chaque jour.
Avec l'accession de Neymar au trône du Portugal, Drake avait obtenu la recette du sortilège de rétrécissement de la part de l'ancien capitaine de l'équipe nationale de football du Brésil. C'est donc avec un garçon asiatique dans son pied gauche, un garçon blanc dans son pied droit, un garçon blanc collé à son aisselle gauche, un garçon noir dans son aisselle droite, et une jolie femme blanche dans son cul. Trois d'entre eux avaient été miniaturisés contre leur gré, mais les deux autres avaient été rétrécis de manière volontaire afin de vénérer Drake et son corps sublime.
C'est donc avec ses esclaves miniatures sous lui que Drake assista au couronnement de Neymar comme Roi du Brésil et fondateur de la Dynastie Neymar.
Neymar portait un manteau de sacre représentant son pays, le Brésil, et la ville avec laquelle il avait obtenu le succès : le long et épais manteau de fourrure était brodé avec l'emblème du PSG et le drapeau du Brésil. C'est avec cette tenue qu'il se fit représenter sur un immense tableau royal.
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Chaque jour, le Roi Neymar Ier du Brésil recevait des sujets qui venait le remercier son action en faveur du peuple, mais il continuait à jouer dans l'équipe nationale du Brésil.
Sur son trône, il portait sa sublime couronne et se faisait masser les pieds par son esclave minuscule. Pour son dévouement, Elio reçut l'honneur de lécher le corps, le torse musclé et suant de son Roi. La vie était belle pour Neymar, qui améliorait la vie de son peuple, et elle était belle aussi pour Elio, qui n'avait rien d'autre à faire que lécher les pieds du Roi, même si cela voulait dire aussi d'être écrasé sous ses pieds ou dans ses aisselles.
Vive le Roi Neymar du Brésil !
FIN DE L'HISTOIRE
🇧🇷⚽🇧🇷⚽🇧🇷⚽🇧🇷⚽🇧🇷⚽🇧🇷⚽🇧🇷⚽🇧🇷⚽
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@neymarjr-cf @neymarbrasil @neymaaah @neymarbrasil @neymarchrist @neymarrjunior @footballjock4life @alphamalesuperiority @tinygiant @giantxxx2 @giant-tiny-people @gianttinyboys @giantworshipper @tallmascsub @feetmakesmehard @bat-woodfeet-us @tidodore2 @innerpiratefun @lovefanfiction01 @rainykpoptravelcreator @leftprogrammingroadtripdean @awesomecrowdcontrol1 @drake8866 @drakenigga @tfstation @tfkinksterz
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So my brain thought up this game while I slept the other night, and I don’t know what else to do with it other than to post it here.
It’s a 3D survival game, visually similar to Last of Us, Red Dead Redemption and A Way Out, and being co-op like the latter. I have never played any of those games (and have no intention to; not my cup of tea) and honestly had to look up the name of one of them, so I have no idea why my brain came up with this.
(Also, brains are prone to weird jumps in logic while dreaming, so bear with me)
The Story:
A class of high-schoolers (probably seniors, idk how the American school system works) take a school trip up to a mountainous forest reserve for a project of some kind. Everyone has to be in pairs so no one gets left behind, and somehow star footballer Connor gets paired up with “just-trying-to-survive-til-I-graduate” Michael.
Something is very not right with this forest. There are shacks that should be long abandoned and derelict but have signs of being lived in, or never being abandoned at all. Trails vanish under your feet without you noticing until you’re way off course. Old men passing by tell tales of people going missing without trace. There’s no birdsong, or any animal noises, at all.
Connor and Michael get very, very lost. The sun is going down. There’s no sign of a search party. Connor is sure they’ll be fine. His uncle Joshua is a ranger up here, and the school wouldn’t just abandon two of its students on a mountain, right? Michael, used to having no one looking out for him, starts to prepare to at least survive the night.
And that’s when things go to shit, because there’s a cult on this mountain. I don’t know what kind of cult, because frankly I’ve never been a religious person, but they’re there, and they want these boys, dead or alive. So said boys fucking run, and manage to lose them, but become even more lost in the process.
The sun rises. There’s still no sign of rescue. They didn’t have a lot of supplies to begin with, and now they’ve got even less. There’s a literal cult trying to kill them. If they’re gonna survive out here, they’re gonna have to get serious, and they’re gonna have to trust each other.
So it goes for a few days. They search for food and water, they try to find safe places to hide and shelter, they steal shit from the shacks (when the cultists aren’t there), they run/hide/defend themselves from cultists and the unaffiliated serial killer who apparently didn’t die when he fell off a cliff into the lake 30 years ago and has been picking off trail-walkers since (he was one of the old men earlier), they try to find ways to help rescuers find them without tipping off the cultists to their location, they look out for each other, they tend to each other’s wounds, and they start to open up to each other.
Connor puts himself under a lot of pressure to be the popular jock, to be the son that his dad wants. He’s gotten physically hurt playing football, and been told to suck it up and keep going, so much that he’s stopped telling people when he’s hurting. He’s literally bleeding through his shirt and can’t put too much weight on one leg, but he’s fine, really, no really, he’s fine, stop worrying about it, it’s nothing, he’s fine, shut up. He comes off as selfish from the jock persona, but he physically cannot put himself and his own needs first.
Michael doesn’t speak much, and it isn’t because he doesn’t want to. It’s that any time he tries to, he’s punished for it. He doesn’t ask for help because he’s never given it. He doesn’t speak up for himself because that gets him called a liar by adults and beat up by teens. He doesn’t give his all anymore, because it’s never good enough anyway. He doesn’t have friends, because no one stays around him for long. He has no plans for the future, because they’ll only fall through. He just does what he can to make it through another day, and today, that means keeping him and Connor alive.
One day, it’s lightly but steadily raining, and they’re huddled in a ditch under a blanket they’ve stolen. Despite the constant danger, the ache of barely healing injuries, and the fact they’re both grimy as hell by now, it’s… nice. Almost serene. Connor asks if he can admit something important to Michael. Michael gives the go-ahead.
Connor comes out as a transgirl to Michael. She’s terrified of admitting it to anyone, her dad, family, friends, god forbid the school and football team. Everything her life is is wrapped up in being a boy. But for all she knows, she could die later today. Her life, right now, is being with Michael, and even if he rejects her for it, she wants him to know.
Michael accepts her in a heartbeat. He’s antisocial, not an asshole. He hugs her, and asks if there’s a name she’d like him to call her. Connor is henceforth referred to as Vanessa for the rest of the game.
Michael then asks if he can admit something important to Vanessa. Vanessa gives the go-ahead. Michael says that he used to think he was gay, but as of two minutes ago, he’s gonna have to change that to bi. It takes five seconds for the penny to drop. There’s no pressure, he hurries to add. She kisses him anyway.
Realising they’re both hopped up on adrenaline (and probably teenager hormones), they agree to work all of that out when they aren’t fighting for their lives.
There’s a boss fight against the serial killer in a thunderstorm, up on the same cliffs from 30 years ago. Michael gets a grapple on him, but gets pushed to the ground and slashed in the side pretty badly by the old man’s knife. Before he can finish the job, Vanessa gets his attention, and shoots him with a shotgun. Yeah, he definitely didn’t survive that fall into the lake. She got a headshot.
Michael’s losing a lot of blood from the slash, so if they aren’t rescued soon, he might not make it. Vanessa tries to carry him to shelter, but is hindered by her injured leg, which Michael is groggily prioritising over himself despite her command to shut up. She finally finds an outcrop of the cliffs, and it takes literally everything (i.e. all relevant supplies in the inventory) to stifle Michael’s bleeding. The blood trail washes away in the heavy rain.
The next morning, they’re found. Vanessa freaks out and grabs the shotgun again, only to realise that it’s her uncle Joshua. She tries to tell him all that’s happened, with the cultists and the serial killer, but he doesn’t believe her, thinking “he” and “his” friend just left the trail for kicks and got lost. Joshua picks up a semi-conscious Michael, and starts to take the two back down the mountain.
After a short while, Vanessa stops, and pulls her shotgun on Joshua again.
See, something that’s been subtly hinted at all game is that the symbol of the cultists (I don’t know jack about cultists, so don’t ask me what the symbol is) has been mildly familiar to Vanessa, but she couldn’t put her finger on why. Now she does.
It’s tattooed on Joshua’s neck, just hidden under his uniform collar.
Joshua tries to tell her she’s being paranoid, she’s scared from being stuck here so long, there are no cultists, put the gun down.
He just found two lost, starving, badly injured teenagers, Vanessa tells him, and he hasn’t reached for his radio to call backup. So something’s up.
Joshua’s got backup, alright. Just not the type she’d been hoping for, as the cultists step out from the trees, in broad daylight this time. She can’t pull the trigger without hurting Michael, so she’s quickly overwhelmed and taken hostage too.
Joshua explains that he and “Connor’s” mother were born into this generations-old cult, but her mother “betrayed the faith” and went to live a normal life. Joshua pretended to join her, but instead used his job as ranger to “overlook” the cult establishing themselves on the reserve, as well as the old man.
They’d intentionally disoriented Vanessa and Michael and got them separated from their class, so they could “reconnect the bloodline” by encompassing “the eldest son” into their ranks, using Michael as a sacrifice to appease their god for “Connor’s” mother’s “transgressions”.
Michael has woken up enough to hear all of this, and our protagonists have both. Had. Enough.
Cue escape plan from the cultists’ hideout, followed by a boss fight with Joshua. I don’t really remember how this one played out, I think I was getting close waking up at this point. Regardless, it occurs to the two teenagers that while Joshua could get away with hiding a stealthy cult on this reserve, a forest fire would grab a lot more attention from the actual authorities. It’s too wet to start a real one, what with the heavy storm last night, but since the cultists know where they are anyway, it can’t hurt to use the more drastic attention-seeking methods.
(Don’t ask me where they got the fireworks. Probably the same place they got the shotgun)
So yeah, the real rescue turns up, Joshua is exposed, most of the cultists are arrested (and those that got away will be tracked down), and the teens get taken to the ambulances which freaks Vanessa out because she now understandably has some trust issues and doesn’t want to be separated. Michael almost outs her by calling her name but manages to stop himself and call “him” Ness instead (I haven’t played Earthbound either). He promises her that they’re gonna be okay now, they’re safe, and as soon as he’s stitched up he’s coming to see her in her hospital room. Not if she comes to him first, she says.
Flash forward to a few months later. Michael pulls up to Vanessa’s house. He’s dressed in a suit of bisexual colours. It is very obviously prom night. The front door opens. It hasn’t been very long, so her hair is only a few inches longer, and she’s still built like a footballer, but nonetheless Vanessa looks beautiful in her prom dress. Well, pant-dress. She wasn’t that brave.
She’s been more than brave enough, Michael says, leaning up to kiss her forehead (She’s taller than him).
The Script’s “Never Seen Anything (Quite Like You)” plays over the credits.
On that note, I think I’m calling this game You Never Saw Anything. It works, doesn’t it?
Anyway, I can’t design for garbage, and my art skills aren’t much better, so that’s all I got. Hope you enjoyed.
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pilot-boi · 2 years
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Tbh…. Any of ur ocs…….. if u want to…. I would like to see them. TALK ABT THEM.
Oh Nolan… Nolan today you have given me a GIFT
Ramblings about my OCs under the cut, because I have MANY thoughts, head full
First of all, all of my OCs are in highschool in the American school system, Junior or sophomore year. This is also the age when I first made them, so they’ve got a lot of me in them. They also were all originally Homestuck OCs that were based on some of my friends, but they have since shifted away from that
Anita is a short Chinese American girl. She’s got round red glasses and long black hair, and generally doesn’t put up with the nonsense of her friends. She’s dating Emerald and mostly is considered the dad friend of the group. She moved to the town about a year or two before after an accident at her old school made her family have to move. She uses ASL to communicate after the accident left her unable to speak. Because of said accident, she generally prefers non-physical confrontations
Nick is a tall relatively well built Irish boy. He’s got rectangular glasses, short ginger hair, and a truly outrageous amount of freckles. He’s a running back on the school football team and he’s dating Anthony. He has a big family and he lives with them on their rabbit farm a few miles out of town. His family is fairly conservative and only his older brother knows that he’s gay, so his relationship with Anthony has to remain visibly platonic at his home. He has issues with his temper and is easily riled into anger by his friend’s stupid bits
Demetri is a VERY short Northern European mixed girl. She currently has short fluffy blonde hair that used to be long and up in pigtails, a stupid amount of freckles, and big blue eyes. She’s transgender, amab, and she still goes by her birth name because her parents are a pair of abusive assholes. Her hair was longer early in the story, but her parents cut it when they found out. She’s mostly a precious cinnamon roll sunshine child, and her boyfriend Nero loves her dearly
Nero is an average height Italian-Native American mixed boy. He’s got curly auburn hair that you see zero amount of the time because he constantly wears a baseball hat. He’s gender fluid but generally goes by he/him pronouns. He’s that friend that uses memes and humor to lighten the mood and distract from any problems he might be going through. He’s got an older brother, and an older sister who died before the story began
Emerald is a tall Haitian/African American girl. She has kinky black hair that she styles into an Afro style and bright green eyes. She’s not really one of the popular kids, but she’s one of those kids that the popular kids respect. She generally dresses in pretty old fashioned clothes alla the 70’s 80’s. She’s dating Anita and is DEFINITELY the mom friend in the group. Like she legit Carrie’s a first aid kit in her bag. She’s been friends with Anthony since before they can both remember and she learned first aid because of him
Anthony is a tall scrawny European mutt, but he’s culturally Italian. He wears thick square glasses that he replaces often because they keep breaking. He has short fluffy brown hair and teal eyes. He is very openly gay, and this gets him pretty badly bullied by some of Nick’s teammates. He’s a meme boy similar to Nero, but he mostly uses his jokes to distract his friends from worrying about his injuries. He looks VERY twinkish and is incredibly accident prone
Cecilia is a very tall Puerto Rican girl. She has thick framed hipster glasses. Half of her head is shaved and the other half is long and curly dark brown. She pretends to hate most of the others and the only one she’ll admit to liking is Demetri. Legit very depressed, she’s the classic high school loner who makes “I want to die” jokes that don’t sound like jokes. She knows everyone and everything and mostly just broods in the back of the room on her phone and pipes up with comments that are concerningly accurate
Lena is African-American, although she has some Scottish from her mom’s side. She has naturally burnt orange hair that she has in purple dyed dreads. She’s a cheerleader for the football team but she’s also in like a million other sports as well. She’s that person who wears shorts and tank tops no matter how cold it is. She has a friendly rivalry with Nick and delights in getting him pissed off. Her family owns the town’s aquarium and she can’t wait for her older sister to take over the company so she can stop pretending to care about it. She regularly gets into fights to defend her friends’ honor, and insists that she’s Cecilia’s best friend
That’s all of my kids! I can post pictures of them if any of y’all are interested. And if y’all have questions go ahead and ask me, I’d love to talk about them more
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notasapleasure · 1 year
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EastEnders run (2000-2001), Part 2/4
26 September 2000
Welp, Dot's not in jail! But she's trying to get herself arrested...
Jack - still standing right outside Sandra’s home omfg it's a bloody wonder Beppe hasn't spotted you there...
Especially when you're being so discreet!
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Sandra tells him to wait there....👀
We're much more amicable now, seemingly... He's been busy going up and down to Bristol and wants to know her thoughts on his transfer. "It's a nice place to live!" *charm offensive* Country, seaside and his family nearby!
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We have to explain it all again, but yes, he still wants her and Joe to come with him.
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She apologises for having to take a call from Ian, but he's a nob and just issues his ultimatum - he wants to know by tonight if it's him or Beppe...
Sandra actually goes running after him to say she can't decide that quickly. They agree to meet in the pub at lunchtime - standard!
Frank! I thought it was illegal to cheat on Barbara Windsor, that's not allowed! My god the men of EastEnders are all so needy and pathetic. And Kat Slater? Much more of a badass than my 'not like other girls' teenage self realised. But also still a bitch.
I'd been wondering from what the solicitor said that Sandra would be made to choose between staying put with her career and Joe and going with Jack to be a stay-at-home mother...but given how Ian's finances are going I think she'd do well to get out of there.
...........
What.
What was that.
Hang on.
????
I'm including the awful quality screencaps so you all know I'm not making this up.
Sandra, normal voice, sigh: "You want me to rip up my life again? And I'm sorry, the answer's gotta be no!"
Jack: *presses the table like a game show buzzer* *makes angry buzzer noise*
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Jack, with an American accent, aggressive: "I'm sorry baby, that's the wrong answer, you don't win tonight's star prize..."
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Sandra, normal voice, unfazed by this unhinged display: "What would I tell Beppe?"
Jack, continuing: "And the prize was a glorious lifetime for three in the West Country with your son and the man that you love."
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Jack, normal voice: "What a terrible shame."
.......
That was. Inexplicable???
I genuinely can't believe how Sandra handled that. I guess he must do it all the time?
Oh no, he's insulted the East End as not a good place to raise a child, so does that mean he's on the wrong side of the narrative?
Also EW, when her phone keeps ringing for work and his response is "Switch it off!" I'm chucking out the spray bottle and grabbing the super-soaker. Bad man. Stop speaking.
She has to go, and he just says menacingly: "Change your mind." Fucking charmer.
23 October 2000 (the video for 3 October was mislabelled 2 October smh)
AAAAAA IT'S THE PREGNANT SONYA STORYLINE IT'S HAPPENING HOW IS THE RUN WITH JOPLIN IN THE PRECISE PERIOD OF EPISODES I WATCHED WHEN I WAS A TEENAGER AAAAA
Sandra watching Beppe goofing about playing football in the market fondly. To be fair, he doesn't seem to have done anything wrong for a while, and Jack's been a dick. I suspect that at the time I watched this before I was grudgingly on Beppe's side.
Pat: "I wouldn't want you if you came gift-wrapped in your birthday suit in a revolving bow-tie!"
Me, who had spent years hoping I'd actually imagined that scene: 😫🙈😫
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Also, I blame the priest for setting off Dot's guilt complex 🙄
Oooh Sandra's talking about 'just leaving' before Ian's affairs go tits-up...
AAAAAAAAA THE BOW-TIE AAAA
Jack wasn't even IN that one AAAAA
Urgh it was mislabelled and was the 3 October one so that's another missing episode I guess. How bloody typical for it to be that one???
5 September 2000
There he is, phew! Still hanging around outside her house. Still making demands and ultimatums.
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But Sandra says she might call him later...
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Ian's really being a dick and his business is tanking, go onnnn Sandra go to Bristol and we'll forget all about the random American accents, overbearing aggression and uhh yeah no, maybe she just needs better taste in men. Head for the hills, babe!
Guess she phoned him up to arrange a date at the allotments :')
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He's putting the charm on again, talking about big gardens and getting away from work stress. I know I'm sold all over again...
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But Sandra feels sorry for Beppe
Jack is surprised she *also* checked about custody with a solicitor...yep, she does seem pretty capable Jack! He's pleasantly surprised, certainly.
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Heart eyes motherfucker
Back at home, accompanied by an unsubtle comment about gardens, Sandra feels Beppe isn't behaving like Joe's dad but his best mate, and then Beppe accepts her criticism and is very sweet about it. Awkward!
---
End of Part 2! Wow, Jack has a wildly unstable personality, and Sandra, despite having said no a million times, is being presented as undecided so we can string this out a bit longer. I wonder if we’ve missed any conversations between her and Beppe about that second child she supposedly promised to try for, because otherwise it’s just looking from these scenes like Jack’s being a pushy dick and Beppe’s a reformed man with only sunshine and puppy dogs in his heart...
Guess we’ll see...
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