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#if you read through all that i genuinely thank you
meowanian · 2 days
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──★ TOP 5 moments of scaramouche falling in love with y/n .ᐟ
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kpop idol!scaramouche x female kpop idol!reader
summary: one of the most popular idol of all time, scaramouche, falling in love with a rookie.
genre: fluff, kpop au
warnings: other than one (1) hate comment, there’s none
artist @ 01rinette on twitter.
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──★ 5
where you and his group attended a reality show and they made you two wear cat ears that responds to the heartbeats through movements.
“scara, pick a name from this box,” one of the hosts said as he landed a box with names to scaramouche. everyone were laughing at his face while he was nervously picking a name.
“uhh…y/n?” he read the name out loud and looked around. he didn’t know who you were until you got up and go to the centre of the studio while your members were cheering on you.
it was the first time he ever heard of you. must be a rookie or something, he thought. he looked up to you and felt a lightning strike in his heart. you were so…pretty.
“now, wear this ears,” other host got two cat eared machines and gave it to you.
“what are we gonna do with this tho?” he asked with a genuine curiosity.
“it’s a machine that can feel your heartbeat and responds to them. when your heartbeats go up, they will wiggle.” host said and the other one continued.
“you will wear them and try to make others’ wiggle, and if it moves you will lose the game,”
scara rolled his eyes. he just knew he would never lose a game like this. he is the most cold blooded person ever after all. at least that’s what he thought…
you two wore them and sit facing each other on the floor.
“i think they are closed, please press the button at the side of the ears,” host said and showed the button, you both pressed it and turn on the machine.
and scara’s ears started to wiggle immediately after turning it on.
“what the-” scara said while trying to stop them. everyone were laughing at his reaction, even the staff members.
“it didn’t even start and you are already so nervous, HAHA!” venti said as ha laughed his ass off. scara was blushing furiously while trying to calm down.
after a while the ears stopped wiggling.
“okay- pfft! okay, okay, sorry,” the host was trying so hard not to laugh but he quickly stopped after seeing scara’s deadly eyes on himself. “okay, now you can start.”
host got the cardboard between your faces and your eyes met.
and scara’s ears started to wiggle…AGAIN.
“HAHAHAHA!” his members, especially venti and heizou were on the floor, laughing like crazy to their teammates face.
[+12765, -127] scaraspinky: HE WAS SO FLUSTERED IT’S FUNNY HELP😭
[+4367, -189] user272616: i think someone is in love👀
[+12, -3412] scaraswife: I think the machine was broken, she is not that pretty anyway 😂
[+34670, -34] yn.png: she looks so cute with the ears😭 no wonder why he got so excited LMAOO
──★ 4
it was your first time as a mc and he was one of the guests…the plot twist is, it was valentine’s day special and he was jealous of your mc partner.
“hmmm, y/n, what do you think today is?” he asked you while acting all innocent.
“I don’t know, ajax. what is it?” you asked with fake curiosity.
“it’s…VALENTINES DAY!” he loudly shouted at the mic and threw his arm around your shoulders. “and ms. y/n, it’s for you!” he said and grabbed a bouquet from behind the set.
“oh!” you reached for the red rose bouquet in his hands, you were actually surprised because you didn’t know he was gonna do this.
“they are so pretty ajax, thank you so much!” you said while smelling the roses and smiling like a fool. he smiled to you as well and when you were not looking, he gave a little wink to scaramouche who was one of the guests.
and scaramouche was…not happy.
[+13457, -129] harbingerajax: awww they actually look so cute together!!
[+34685, -99] ynloops: here’s the video of her smiling😭 *video*
— ynstar: why is this 10 hours long?
— ynarchive: no but literally I can’t get out of it😭
[+12768, -341] scararchive: here’s a video of scara rolling his eyes *video*
— user8272: HE LOOKS ANNOYED HDHWBJSH
──★ 3
when you covered his rap part at the radio show.
“y/n, is there any songs you are listening to these days?” the radio host asked you.
“uhmm, actually i am listening to 5REEZE’s new album these days, I really love it!” you said to the mic and your members confirmed the information.
“yeah, she always listens to it with a speaker in the dorm and sings to it!”
“ohhh, can you sing it for us too?” the host asked.
“of course, I would be happy to!” you said and rapped to his part.
“wooow!” everyone wowed and clapped your performance, you smiled shyly.
[+1239, -27] 5reezefan: it was actually so cool!
[+3258, -226] scarami: we need a collab tbh
[+77544, 1308] scaraloops: imagine his face when he saw this😭 i mean he would get a nose bleed while watching it
[+55432, -2356] ynloops: so i added background music… *video*
— ynarchive: she ate and left no crumbs
— scaraloops: I’m her fan now…😳
──★ 2
he was doing a live and he opened his frequently used playlist for some ambience.
“i will play some music,” scara said and grabbed his phone while chewing on his fried chicken.
he carefully selected a song and played it. few minutes later while he was answering some comments, the song ended and an another one started to play…
and it was your song…SOLO song.
his eyes widened and he quickly turned it off and played a random one, acting like nothing happened while comments were going wild.
and few minutes later the song ended and another song started to play…
it was one of your covers…A SOLO ONE.
he choked on his food while trying to turn it off but he was so nervous that he accidentally dropped the phone and while trying to get it he banged his head to the desk and spilled the coke on himself.
it was one if the most viral moments in kpop because it was so funny and unforgettable.
[+87645, -3] scaraloops: i will post this video EVERY FUCKING DAY on my account *video*
[+34557, -125] scararchice: IT’S SO EMBARRASSING HELP
[+67456, -88] bbygism: my mom showed me this and said isn’t this the boy you liked…like mom pls I’m gonna cry-
──★ 1
when you cried while receiving an award.
“and the rookie of the year goes to…your groups name!”
your shocked faces was on the big screen, people were clapping and screaming your groups name loudly.
you and your members slowly went to the stage to receive the trophy.
you started to give your speech to the world, thanking your fans, members and your company for making your dreams real. a few tears fell down from your eyes and shined through screen.
one of the screens showed other idols and then scaramouche, looking at you with watery eyes.
the whole place went silent for a moment and then everyone started to scream and cheer, the attenders swear that it was the loudest thing they ever heard.
it was the first time that people saw him cry, even his friends and members.
and also it was the first time that he showed his feelings without getting embarrassed.
[+125067, -1267] scaraloops: I actually cried so hard
[+200458, -446] scararchive: it is the first we ever saw him crying and it’s because she was crying😭 I’m speechless if this isn’t love then i don’t know anything
[+22678, -8] foryn: we know how much you worked, how much you cried and how much you got overwhelmed by all the things. but we also know how you NEVER gave up. i love you <3
[+222307, -120] ynloops: i want to say that you worked so hard for your dreams and for us. you are the reason why i still keep going and not giving up. you changed my whole life with your smile and for me, you deserve every award on the world. i love you, we love you and i think scara loves you too😭
[+12367, -225] multistan: DESERVED.
[+1786456, -12456] dispatch: 👀
— scaraloops: HOLD UP-
— ynloops: WAIT A MINUTE-
— user2827: i ship you two tbh
[+18722661176, -0] meowanian: y/n, you deserve the world.
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back2bluesidex · 2 days
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We Need Practice - JJK (18+) - Preview
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A Sequel to Novice.
Pairing: Pornstar!Jungkook X Fem!Reader
Theme: Fluff, smut
Wordcount: 2.1k+ (the full fic)
Summary: Jungkook wants you to ride him and you are too bad at that.
Warnings: Unprotected sex, messy cock riding, cumming all over body, they are down bad for each other, more fluff than I intended to have, confessions. NSFW!!
Minors are not allowed in this blog!!
Posting date: 31st May, 2024
Or Read now on Ko-fi.
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Another positive point about Jeon Jungkook is that he is punctual. You might even call him a green flag because your phone dings with a “I am here” text right on 2:27 am. 
The scene that unfolds in front of you once you come out of your apartment, almost leaves your jaw hanging mid air. 
Jungkook has arrived with a bike, dressed in complete black. If you drooled a little at the sight then you would never admit that. 
Once he sees you awkwardly walking towards him, he takes off his helmet and welcomes you with one of his infamous bunny smiles. 
Your heart does a little flip inside your chest. 
His big doe eyes shine amid the darkness as if those are made of some priceless stone. At this moment it’s really tough to believe that he is a pornstar, who fucks people on camera to earn a living. 
“Hey. you look beautiful.” he greets you with a compliment when you come close to him. 
“You look even more handsome today.” you return his compliment genuinely. And at that, the tip of his ears turn red. 
“Ah thanks.” he replies shyly as he hands you a helmet. And gestures to you to mount his fancy bike. 
You take the helmet, slip that on your head and hold him by his shoulders to climb on his bike. 
Once you have settled, he revves the engine. 
“Hold me tightly” he says briefly before setting the bike in motion. You wrap your arms around his waist and hold him just as he asked you to. 
The deserted road, the trees whooshing by, the buildings that look peaceful, everything feels so beautiful. 
Maybe it’s because of the hour or maybe it’s because you are with someone you like. 
The bike comes to a halt at a crossing and you slide up the windshield of your helmet, “where are we going?” 
He looks at you through the mirror, slides his own windshield up and gives you another sickening smile, but doesn’t say anything.
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The full fic is already posted on my Patreon page as well. So, if you are a member, you can read it there already.
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permanentswaps · 3 days
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Spyke's Gypsy Gambit Pt. 2
Read Pt. 1 by @emilio-the-dumb-wrestler here.
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"I am sorry that we have to put you down, Spyke," the vet's voice was laced with sympathy, but Spyke couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of triumph at the words. After all, it was Sam who was facing his final moments, not him.
Spyke watched as Sam, now an aging dog with a gray muzzle and clouded eyes, lay on the examination table, his body racked with pain. It was a stark reminder of the inevitability of his own mortality, but Spyke refused to dwell on such morbid thoughts. Instead, he focused on the here and now, relishing in the fact that he was still standing tall, alive and well.
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"This is never how we want this to end, but I know you're in pain," the vet continued, his tone filled with genuine remorse. Spyke fought to suppress a smirk, masking his true emotions behind a facade of concern.
As the vet prepared the injection, Spyke couldn't help but reflect on the events of the past year. Sure, there had been challenges and close calls, but he had managed to navigate them all with cunning and guile. And now, as he watched Sam draw his final breaths, he couldn't help but feel a sense of vindication.
"Unfortunately, dogs just don't live as long as people,” the vet muttered softly.
The vet left the room with a sympathetic nod, leaving Spyke alone with Sam's fading form. As the door clicked shut, Spyke's steps echoed in the silent room as he made his way to the examination table where Sam lay.
"That's right, buddy," Spyke murmured softly, his voice tinged with a hint of mockery. "I'm sorry, dogs just don't live as long as people – and it's been a while since you were one of those."
Spyke's gaze lingered on Sam's weathered face.
"Honestly, I can't thank you enough for giving me this body," Spyke's thoughts wandered inward, his lips curving into a subtle smirk. "Well, I know that you didn't really want to, but thanks just the same."
"It feels like yesterday that I was able to use my mediocre video editing and acting skills to trick the gypsy into thinking you wanted to stay like this," he mused inwardly, a sense of satisfaction washing over him. "It really wasn't hard to do."
The memory of that pivotal moment brought a rush of adrenaline.
"But I really enjoyed the acting bit, pretending to be you to the rest of the world," Spyke admitted with a chuckle, relishing in the memory of his deception. It had been all too easy to slip into Sam's persona, to fool those around him into believing that he was nothing more than a humble dog.
And it was this newfound talent for deception that had propelled Spyke's acting career to new heights in the past year. With each role he played, he reveled in the opportunity to inhabit different personas, to become someone else entirely.
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"And I just know I am going to make it big," he whispered to himself, his voice brimming with confidence. "This body has all the right makings for a great career, nice, not intimidating, but still a cute face with a super sexy otter body."
He couldn't help but admire his reflection in the nearby mirror, reveling in the sight of his toned physique and charming smile.
"Honestly, I'm really glad that you, I mean I, have so much hair," Spyke continued, running a hand through his thick locks. "It was the one thing I liked about being a dog, and I never even needed to give it up."
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"Actually, I think this body looks so much hotter on me," Spyke smirked, his gaze lingering on his reflection. "Honestly, I have all the confidence and charm that you never did. It's why everyone is lining up for this dick."
As Sam whimpered his final breaths, Spyke backed away. The vet returned to the room, and with a final nod, Spyke left the office behind him, As he made his way back home, his thoughts turned inward, consumed by the realization that he was now the only Sam there would ever be.
The thought sent a shiver down Spyke's spine, a rush of excitement coursing through him. His spirit, once trapped within the confines of a dog's body, now mirrored Sam's on the inside. Just the thought of it was enough to send a surge of arousal coursing through Spyke's veins.
One he got home, he undressed slowly, his hands lingering on his newfound curves as he reveled in the sensation of his own skin beneath his fingertips. Spyke's chest heaved with anticipation as he reached for his throbbing member, his fingers trailing over his chest hair as he began to stroke himself. With a smirk, he placed his neck chain between his teeth, the metal cool against his tongue as he continued to pleasure himself.
His breath came in ragged gasps as he teased and tantalized himself, his body writhing with pleasure as he approached the edge. With a wink at his reflection, Spyke felt himself tipping over, his climax crashing over him like a tidal wave.
As he came, his seed splattering across the mirror, Spyke couldn't help but revel in his achievement. With a contented sigh, he leaned in to lick the last traces of his spunk from the mirror. He couldn't help but feel a sense of euphoria wash over him, knowing that he was destined to stay in the body of a human as sexy as this forever.
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middlingmay · 2 days
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Marge is Gale's Beard AU
I don't know what happened, but this was supposed to be a funny cute little scene of Bucky stumbling across Marge getting a little frisky with another guy, not knowing she's not actually Gale's girlfriend, and promptly losing his shit. Like 1K words, max
BUT OVER 6000 WORDS LATER AND HERE WE ARE.
I need to be stopped, jesus fucking christ.
Anyway, enjoy!
Warnings: violence, blood. Also period-typical attitudes towards monogamy.
Also, John doesn't look to good for part of this fic, but he is genuinely apologetic, and comes out the other side the John we all know and love. He's just going through some things!
Read under the cut!
Ostensibly, this little get together was a send off for Bucky who was being shipped off to Thorpe Abbotts in England thanks to his new and entirely unwanted position as Air Executive. But it was also a chance for the rest of the fellas to enjoy one more night of fun and frivolity with their loved ones before they left the States in a few weeks, some of them for the very first time. Maybe some of them for the last.
And for Buck, that meant none other than Marge.
They had been friends since they were kids. She was the first and remained the only girl he had ever brought home to his mother, and even father was on his best behaviour whenever she was around. Such was the power of Marjorie Spencer.
She was also the first and only girl he had ever kissed. They were teenagers, and even if Gale wasn’t as half-wild as his classmates about all the pretty girls, he was still a hormonal boy and one night, when he walked her home, he took her little face in his big hands and kissed her.
She’d pulled back frowning. “Gale. I don’t have brothers, but if I did I reckon that’s what it’d feel like to kiss ‘em.”
She wasn’t wrong. He’d heard the nasty locker room talk about boys sporting half a woody just at kissin’ a girl, and Gale hadn’t felt so much as a flicker.
Then, some while later, he’d felt the full fury of those teenage hormones when James ‘Jett’ Granger, school football star, had bowled him over and landed on top of him on the floor with a thud.
Jett had laughed and apologised and hauled Gale, who was not dainty by any stretch of the imagination, up like he was nothing with an apology on his lips. Like he hadn’t just upended Gale’s entire world.
When he told Marge, she’d cackled and leered like a locker room boy and said, “Did you…” and stuck her tongue between her teeth.
Gale spluttered and coughed on his spit and his blood pounded in his ears. But he couldn’t deny it, even as he scolded, “Marjorie Spencer!”
But once she got over her glee and teasing, she saw Gale work his lip like a well done steak and softened. “There ain’t nothin’ wrong with you.”
Gale scoffed. “We both know you’re the only one round here who thinks like that.”
Even Marge couldn’t stubborn her way out of that cold hard fact.
“Alright then,” she said with a set to her jaw. “Then you’ll be my fella, far as anyone knows. Least until you find one of your own.”
Gale’s heart flooded his body with warmth and he must have looked at Marge like she was a saint. “I can’t do that, Marge. What if you find a guy you really want to be your fella?”
But Marge looked highly sceptical. “Round here? You’re all I got.”
He smiled at the sentiment but he still wore worry on his brow and Marge darted forward to kiss at least a bit of it away. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
And they never had. Right up until Gale enlisted and was due to be shipped off to basic training, Marge kept assuring him every boy that came around was a knucklehead, and as little as Gale even let himself do so much as look, he couldn’t say he disagreed with her.
The night before he left, after an awkward near silent dinner with his folks that his mother had insisted on, he and Marge had laid a blanket out on an empty field and looked at the starts.
“I still can’t believe you’re going,” she said, voice thick.
Gale couldn’t say ‘sorry’, couldn’t say he wished he wasn’t going, because he wasn’t no liar. He’d wanted to be a pilot since he was a boy and he couldn’t wait to get started.
“I’m going to miss you like crazy.” But that there, that was the truth.
Marge snorted, true and ugly. “Yeah, right. You’re going to be surrounded by all the cute boys and I’m stuck here with the cream of the Caspar crop.”
Gale kicked her shoe. “Oh, yeah. No lookin’. No touchin’. Not unless I wanna come home with a crack in my skull and a blue ticket in my first. At the least.”
Because Gale wasn’t scared of the military. He wasn’t scared of leaving home or being surrounded by strangers. He wasn’t scared at the possibility of having to head into a fight. But being found out? That petrified him.
Marge clutched his hand with all the strength she possessed. “I’ll write you,” she vowed. “Every day if I have to. I’ll spritz the letters with perfume and kiss them and everything. No one will know, I promise.”
Marge’s promises were better than the word of God.
Until he met John Egan.
The long-limbed, freckled, moustached, larger and louder than life man had thrown himself into Gale’s life with very little input from the man himself. He given him his name and kept by his side, like he’d adopted a dog.
Despite himself, Gale had actively tried to dislike John, or Bucky, at first. He put up a cold front to his overt friendliness; threw off his wandering hands possessed with so much affection that he just couldn’t keep them still. Gale refused every single invitation for as long as he could. And yet.
Gale found himself looking for Bucky in whenever he entered a room. He listened carefully whenever he spoke during briefings, and chiming in until they were bouncing ideas of off each other, unaware of the secret smiles of their superior officers. When Gale struggled to sleep, he found himself asking Bucky any question he could think of just to hear him rattle on until he was finally lulled to rest.
He stopped rejecting and started anticipating John’s touch, even positioning himself so as to welcome it, necessitate it; an arm over the back of a chair set close to his; a tiny gap in a doorway or corridor that required a gentle touch to a guy’s waist or his back. And soon Bucky became one of the only men Gale ever touched comfortably beyond a squeeze of the shoulder or a pat on the arm.
One of the other boys had tried once, to swing an arm over Gale’s shoulder. Whether it was because he saw Bucky do it and wanted to emulate the two men so respected by the others, he wasn’t sure, but he hadn’t done it again. The less said about it, the better.
Marge noticed, of course.
He hadn’t been aware of how much Bucky had filtered into his letters, and Marge’s questions had seemed innocent at first. And Gale had been all to happy for the outlet. Then in one letter she had scribbled:
He sounds like a scream, Gale. I’m glad you’ve made such a fast friend. I can't wait to meet him, and make sure he’s good enough for my fella. Can’t have you taking up with a no good kinda man who’s just going to lead you into trouble.
He knew Marge better than he knew himself. He could read between the lines: make sure he’s no bigot before you go getting attached.
Which brought them to that night at the bar. The first thing John had done on being introduced to Marge was to sweep her off for a dance.
Springing away with Gale’s girl in tow, Bucky hollered over his shoulder, “I gotta make sure poor Marge gets to dance with someone, tonight, Buck!”
The boys had all jeered and Marge swatted John’s chest playfully, but soon she was just as swept up in the force of him as they all were, and laughed with flushed cheeks the whole time.
It warmed something healing in his heart to see the two people closest to him in the world get on like a house on fire.
At one point, when Bucky went to the bar, Marge slumped into his side.
“Oh, Gale. You never stood a chance against him, did you?”
Not a snowflake’s in hell.
But before Gale could get too despondent about that, she continued. “For what it’s worth, I think he’s a good man. I think he- I think you’re safe with him. Yeah?”
Gale nodded. Of course he was. It was Bucky.
Then she got that impish look on her face. “So I say, look your fill.”
Gale shushed her and looked around to see if anyone was paying closer attention than they should’ve. No one was, thankfully, and when his heart rate returned to normal, he remembered he could tease right back.
“Well," he said coyly into her ear, “speaking of looking your fill, that black-haired fella at the corner table at the back has been throwing you looks all night.”
Marge pretended to look unaffected and Gale leaned in even closer. “Don’t think I didn’t see you lookin’ back.”
Marge’s vicious little elbow checked his ribs just as Bucky came back with their drinks.
“Thank you, John,” she said primly. “But I have to visit the powder room.”
John toasted her off and looked at Buck, bemused. “Something I said?”
Gale nearly laughed. “Naw. She just likes to keep me in line.”
John shook his head. “And ain’t that a crying shame. I’m surprised she hasn’t upbraided me for trying to undo all her hard work.”
Later, Gale would blame the giddiness that came from John’s proximity for what he said next. “I only gotta behave with her. You can get me as riled up as you like.”
John inhaled too much of his drink and coughed until there were tears in his eyes. Gale flushed to his ears and kicked him under the table.
Giggling and breathless, John kicked him right back even harder. “Noted.”
“Ask Major Cleven! He’s great at calculations.”
“Sir? Sir!”
A few boys in the ground crew called Buck over, and John waved him off good naturedly. “Go awe the masses, Buck. I need a smoke anyway.”
It look less than five minutes for Marge to come barrelling towards him, a wild and furious and worried look him her eye.
“Gale, It’s John! You gotta get John!”
*
There was a door at the back of the bar that led to the dead end of an alley outside. When he just wanted a quiet smoke in the peace of the evening, John liked to head out there instead of the front with everyone else, where he could easily while away the better part of an hour talking to all and sundry.
And he was enjoying spending his evening Buck. And Marge.
She was a sweet little spitfire. She had the looks of spun glass and high class, but even after spending nothing more than a handful of hours with her, Bucky could tell she was no wall flower, no meek dame. And John didn’t think about it too closely, but he liked that the girl who Gale loved so much wasn’t so different from himself.
Where John liked the think of him and Buck as sides of the same coin - dark and light; steady and gregarious; push and pull - Marge and Buck were one of a kind, like the couples on the movie posters. Their love felt inevitable.
And, as John was learning about himself, he was apparently a possessive man, because between him and the cigarette in his mouth, he could acknowledge the bitter flash of jealousy he got when he looked at them too long.
He pushed open the back door, a box of matches in hand, and looked up on hearing two frightened gasps.
Marge. Her eyes were so wide, there was more white than blue. Her hair was a mess, clutched in the meaty hand of another man. A man who’s face was too close to the crook of her neck.
And both of them wore such fear in their eyes.
John’s cigarette finally gave up its precarious balance on John’s gaping lips and tumbled to the floor. The box of matches dove after it.
“John.” It was a tiny, panicked sound.
And it snapped John back to attention. With two strides of his long legs he had Marge tucked behind him and slammed the man into the brick wall of the alley hard, and smiled ugly with all teeth when he heard the meaty thunk of his head hit the wall.
“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” John snarled in the man’s face, low and incandescent with rage he didn’t even know how to begin to unleash.
“John-” Marge tugged at his back, urgent.
“Taking advantage of a girl after a few drinks-”
“No, John-!”
He grabbed two fistfuls of the guy’s shirt and rattled him until he heard teeth clack. “A girl who’s taken. By your superior officer!”
“It’s not like that!” Marge yanked at John’s ear and he was forced to turn away from the man, but he didn’t relinquish him.
He calmed himself as much as he could. “Marge. Are you alright?”
But Marge looked painfully, worryingly exacerbated. “For God’s sake, John! It’s not what it looks like!”
“It looked like he was forcing himself on ya!”
But the Marge clutching at his lapels didn’t look scared, not of the man behind him, anyway. She had a little bit of fear when she looked at him though, and John didn’t like that at all.
It’s not what it looks like.
And if it looked like she was forced…
John’s heart broke for Gale, before the red pricks of anger started to twitch at his muscles.
“Oh. It’s like that, huh?”
“No!”
“Are you with Gale or aren’t you?!”
Marge swallowed something down and almost reluctantly said, “Yes.”
The boy chose the wrong moment to pluck at the reserves of his bravado.
“There’s no harm, Major,” he panted. “It was just some harmless fun. It didn’t mean nothing. We all know Cleven’s too much of a gentleman-”
John snapped his fist into the man’s jaw and followed through. The wall was the only thing that kept him standing. So John pulled him upright and slammed a punch into the side of his face and he went tumbling down.
John followed him, straddling him as he grabbed a handful of the guy’s jacket. Blood was already smeared over his mouth and John rained down hell and hit his nose with a crack and blood came pouring outta that too.
He switched his grip to the guy’s hair to keep the lolling head upright as he leaned down and growled into his ear. “You think you’re going to make a fool out of either one of them, you got another thing coming.”
He pulled back to land one last hit, a good one to drive his point home, when a solid weight barrelled into him from behind, wrapped an arm around his waist and hauled him into the air. John spun around swinging, but another arm got a stranglehold around the back of his neck and he was wrapped up painfully tight and too close to do anything.
And the scent of Buck’s cologne penetrated his senses and the fight left him.
Because fuck. How was he going to explain this? How was he going to tell Buck he’d caught his woman in the arms of another man? Should he even tell him? If it was Bucky, he’d wanna know, but maybe if he spoke to Marge and she promised it was a drunken mistake (God knows he’d had plenty of those), and it would never happen again, he wouldn’t have to tank Buck’s perfect love story.
“John!” Buck shook him hard enough that Bucky knew he tried to get his attention more than once. “The heck were you thinking?! You outta your goddamn mind?!”
Bucky heard shuffling behind him and he managed to turn just enough in Buck’s unforgiving grip to see the man being led inside by some of their boys, who shot furtive, concerned glances at their Majors.
Then there was Marge, hanging back and looking at Buck with something awfully sorry. He felt Buck nod at her and she went to head back inside, but not before sending Bucky a scathing look and a roll of her eyes.
Now there was nothing to spare him from Buck.
Only now did Buck loosen his grip and let Bucky back a step, and only a step.
“You have done some damn foolish things since I met you, Bucky. But fightin’ with a subordinate?!”
“You don’t understand-” and Buck really wasn’t sure he wanted him to.
“I understand plenty. Marge told me everything.”
Buck couldn’t help but scoff. “Oh? And what did Marge say?”
“That you caught her neckin’ with some guy and went off the damn rails!”
Buck was shocked stupid. Not just that Marge had told the truth, but that Buck seemed more pissed at him that he was at her.
“Then why are you riding me for?! I was defending you - you should be thanking me!”
Buck tensed his jaw so hard, Bucky expected to hear a crack. “Thanking you? For nearly bringing down my whole house of cards?!”
By now Bucky felt he was missing some vital information, and he couldn’t think straight with Buck so close to him, radiating fury. He shrugged off Buck’s hands and shook his head.
“Hold on, hold on,” he held up his palms. “You’re pissed at me for socking the guy making it with your girl behind your back?”
Buck sighed harsh and annoyed like Bucky was the most exasperating thing in the world and Bucky was getting more offended by the second.
“No, y’dummy!”
“Dummy?”
“I’m mad because if Marge hadn’t kept her head and got me before anyone else saw you fighting, everyone might have found out she ain’t actually my girl!”
“I - what?!”
Buck gave a frustrated groan that didn’t quite get out of his throat and prayed for patience. And maybe a little bravery. He trusted John, vexing as he could me. But sometimes fear was instinctual. But he couldn’t let Bucky go on thinking he saw what he thought he saw. But Christ if the other man didn’t make it difficult.
“But - you and Marge - since high school. You said-”
“Well, I lied. Kind of.”
“Kind of? You kind of lied?”
Bucky huffed. “We’ve been tellin’ people we’ve been together since high school. So no one would know…about me…” he trailed off meaningfully.
For all but Bucky, apparently. “Know what?”
“That I…that…” God, why couldn’t he just say it? Bucky may be as straight as they come, but he wasn’t that kind of guy, and he was Buck's best friend to boot. He choked down his frustrations and finally managed to spit out, “That…Marge ain’t the only one who likes looking at cute boys.”
Buck blushed as he said it. He sounded like a stupid teenager. But Bucky just stuttered to a stop and gawped at him. Buck watched his mouth flap, trying and failing to utter a sound, like it too couldn’t believe John Egan had finally been rendered silent.
“I - you’re-?”
“Gay? Queer? A big ol’ blue ticket? Yeah.”
What he certainly hadn’t been expecting was for Bucky to near drop to his knees in a mix of relief and panic.
“Haah-fuck, Gale," John grimaced, breathing heavy over his knees, which looked to be the only thing supporting his weight. "They're gonna court martial me in the morning. Don’t get me wrong - I’m glad I didn’t have to break your heart, tellin’ you Marge was stepping out on you, but fuck. I punched out a subordinate. Fuck.”
Side-stepping the unintentional lie in what John said, Buck, mightily and heroically refrained from rolling his eyes. “Don't get hysterical, Bucky. It don't become you. Relax, I'll fix it.”
And really, the sheer force of the scepticism on Bucky's face was down right insulting.
“Yeah? And how you gonna do that?”
Buck's brain worked furiously for an excuse - the reason’s why men hit other men over women that weren’t jealousy. Protection being the main one, but he didn’t want to put Marge in the frame at all if possible. Then he remembered a story Bucky told him once about a boy that had taken a shine to Bucky’s much younger sister, and Bucky had followed him home one day after his sister had come home cryin' with red bruises round her wrists.
“You ain't gonna like it.”
“Solid start.”
Buck nearly cuffed him round the ear like an insolent, child. “Hush. Now, you uh, ever planning on introducing your sisters to the boys?”
Bucky balked. “Absolutely not. What does that-”
“Listen. That man inside, bleeding - he looked a lot like a fella who left your sister a little worse for wear. Let the boys take that however they see fit.”
“The hell you tryna say about my sister?!”
“Nothing, idjit! Listen!”
Bucky shut his trap with visible effort.
“He looked almost exactly like that man, and when you saw him near Marge - near her and nothing else, you understand? You lost it. Alright? You’d had too much to drink, you weren’t thinking clear, and you were seeing you baby sister, not Marge. Right?”
Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose and the gesture was so typically Gale’s that it stole his breath to see it on the other man.
But he had to press on. “Right?”
Bucky capitulated. “Alright, alright. But Jeannie ever finds out about this, we’re both dead.”
Buck eyed Bucky then, waiting for the other show to fall. “Is that all you gotta say to me?”
Bucky's face fell and cleared in realisation and Buck's stomach bubbled with a flare of anxiety about what he might say.
“Ah, fuck. Sorry, yeah. I’ve got to apologise to Marge, don’t I?”
Buck’s eye twitched, because Bucky had to be playing so damn dumb on purpose.
But, he wasn’t wrong.
“Well, yeah. She liked that boy. And you gon’ scared him off.”
Bucky scoffed though, waving a dismissive hand. “If you’re her fake fella, Buck. Marge has got to raise her standards for her real one. Don’t worry, I’ll find her a nice guy; a real prince to your pauper, so to speak.”
“That is not how the story goes.”
But then something occurred to Buck. He’d seen Bucky charm plenty of women, a lot of them blondes. Now that Bucky knew Marge was technically single…
“You mean someone like you?”
Bucky smirked and stepped toe to toe with Buck. He let his large hands smooth out the wrinkles Buck had worked into his own uniform wrangling Bucky earlier. His fingers slipped to his crooked tie and slowly knotted it back into place.
“You callin’ me a prince, Buck Cleven?”
Buck wanted to brush it off, to turn it into a joke, say anything to break the tension. But his tongue felt thick and useless in his mouth. All his brain could process was the proximity of Bucky, the smell of Bucky, and heat of his fingers at Buck’s collar.
Bucky leaned closer, like a he had a secret to share. “That make you my princess?”
And that should not have crackled a hot, thrilling tremor to life that sent him rocking infinitesimally closer to Bucky, a gasp somehow escaping the clutch his teeth had on his lips.
Bucky’s eyes darkened, but before he could say or do anything, the backdoor to the pub opened again and Marge’s golden head popped out.
“If you two are quite done?” she sounded like a teacher scolding the class clowns. “I am fending off almost an entire bomb group in there by myself and they’re like a pack of wild dogs. Some help, if you’d be so kind.”
Buck coughed and stepped back and trotted dutifully to Marge’s side. “Sorry, darlin’,” he said and dropped a kiss to her cheek.
Bucky was left with Marjorie Spencer staring at him, hands on her hips.
“Well?” she said expectantly.
Sheepishly, Bucky rubbed the back of his neck. “In my defence, you could do better?”
He saw murder in her eyes and quickly backtracked. Now was not the time for jokes. Evidently Marge did not appreciate them the way Buck did.
Bucky dropped his arms by his sides and looked her in the eye. “I am sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted like that, no matter what I thought. I’m not - God, Marge, I’m not a violent man. Bit of a motor mouth sure, and I’ll stand up for any of my boys, but I don’t usually…”
Marge let him stew in the silence for a bit. But eventually, “No you shouldn’t have. I might be thankful that Gale has you looking out for him, but you can’t be such a hot head, John Egan. I don’t appreciate it and Gale don’t like it.”
Gently, Bucky took one of Marge’s hands, tiny in one of his, and raised it to his lips to place a sorry kiss there with a rueful smile “I will never lay hands on someone like that again, unless it's for a very good reason. I promise. But Buck’s pretty good at keeping me in check.”
Marge blessed him with a knowing smile. “I’m sure he is.”
And then Bucky was back in full force. “But seriously, Marge, you’ve got to at least date sideways. You can’t date down. Anyone less than Buck ain’t good enough for you.”
She rolled her eyes and pointed him back inside, letting him offer his arm. “Well when you find him, you let me know. Because I’m shit outta luck.”
They re-entered the pub laughing and any remaining tension in the room seemed to release. As Bucky took Marge for another spin round the dancefloor, he felt Buck’s eyes on them and risked a glance. And what a risk. Gale stared, blue eyes pinned on him over the smooth rim of his glass, tracking Bucky’s every move and licking the moisture off his lips.
Bucky threw him a wink and mouthed, Later, princess.
*
Colonel Huglin did not appreciate having to consider disciplinary action at six am. Yet having a man like Major John Egan under his command meant Huglin’s dreams didn’t count for much.
He watched this respected, no, revered man stand before him, clasp and unclasp his hands, purse his lips, and shift his legs like he was fighting the urge to rock on his heels. Like a misbehaving school boy. If Huglin had never met him, and someone had asked him to pick out the best pilot (on par with Major Cleven), the quickest thinker, an excellent strategist and the man almost single-handedly responsible for morale on base, Huglin wouldn't even have spared John a glance.
And yet.
“I haven’t seen him yet, but I’d bet my commission that the young fella you thrashed good and sound yesterday looks real pretty this morning.”
John grimaced. And, surprisingly enough it was not the wince of one awaiting an unwanted scolding, but one that actually looked like regret. John, who never ever failed to look a man in the eye, looked down at his shoes, lips twisting, and just nodded.
Major Cleven had come to him even earlier, at 5.20am, before Huglin had even had his coffee, and filled him in on what happened last night.
“You know Major Egan, Sir. I know you don’t always see eye to eye but he’s not a violent man, not like that. But,” and Gale and leaned forward in his chair, concern creasing his brow and wringing his hands together, “his sister, before he left, she had some…awful kind of trouble. With a fella. That looked just like the man from last night, John said. You know how much he looks after the men, and he loves his sisters. It drives him crazy he’s not there to look after ‘em with their dad not being around anymore… Sorry Sir, I’m rambling.” He was, and it was unlike Cleven who was a man of few words. Surely, a testament to his worry over his friend and brother-in-arms. “I just mean to say, John thought - John saw -"
And Huglin had cut Cleven off with a wave of his hand. He understood. He’d seen countless men wide eyed, crying or screaming at something or someone who wasn’t really there. It didn’t mean Egan could get entirely off the hook, but he understood.
“You have anything to say for yourself?”
“Can I see him?”
Huglin hadn't been expecting that. “What?”
“The…guy. God I don’t even know his name. But I’d like to apologise, if he’ll let me. He deserves that at least, and I’d like to settle it before I go.”
He wasn’t due to fly to Thorpe Abbots until mid-morning. There was plenty of time. “Evans. Airman First Class Evans. And I’ll ask his superior officer and let you know.”
Bucky released a breath and nodded, more to himself, Huglin thought, before he squared his shoulders at the Colonel.
“I just want to apologise, Sir. What I did yesterday was not becoming of a Major of the US Airforce. I know that. It’s not the kind of man I am or how I want my men to see me. I’m…” John swallowed. “I embarrassed the uniform. And I hurt someone who didn’t deserve it. I’m sorry, Sir.”
Huglin needed a moment to collect himself. He wasn’t stupid. He knew part of the reason the men admired Egan so was because he never backed down from the higher ups, always spoke his mind and said his piece - but Huglin couldn’t think of one time it wasn’t on their behalf. To get them what they needed or give them the best odds, or even distract them on days the base just became too heavy. But this was a side of John that Huglin had never seen: the human man underneath the military man.
And Huglin had sisters, too. He could empathise.
“I’m glad to hear that, Major. Normally, there’d be a disciplinary hearing, and we’d decide what was to be done with you.”
John bit his cheek but nodded, accepting.
“But, I think in this case, I can smooth things over. If, you apologise to Evans and his CO, and goddamn cool it on the liquor, John. I mean it. There might even be a mandatory anger management session with the doc in your future, and if so I won't hear a damn single word of complaint from you, understood?”
John reared back looking stunned, and Huglin let himself enjoy it. “Don’t look so surprised. Your buddy Cleven was by here and told me everything. And be glad he did. Otherwise I’d be tempted to ground you the rest of this damn war.”
John said nothing.
“Alright, get out of here. You’ve got a trip to prepare for. And an apology, too.”
“Yes, sir,. John turned smartly on his heels and headed for the door.
When he reached the jam, Huglin called out,. "And John? Give my best wishes to your sister, will you? If they need anything, you let me know.”
John made a funny noise in his throat and nodded before he all but fled the room.
Buck was waiting for him outside. He leapt to his feet when he saw Bucky emerge looking frazzled.
“Well? How’d it go?”
Bucky fell into step next to him, and out of the corner of his mouth said, “What on earth did you tell Huglin? Because whatever it was, I almost got out of there scot-free.”
And Buck didn't fail to notice that Bucky didn’t sound happy about it. He new in the sober light of day, and with the clarity sleep brings, John would be beating himself up something fierce for attacking that boy. Which he should, by rights, but John did take self-flagellation to extremes sometimes. Gale wondered if it was the Catholic in him, lapsed or not.
“You’re still Air Exec?”
“Yeah?”
Buck nudged him. “Sounds like a punishment to me.”
Bucky rolled his eyes and came to a halt at the mouth of the building, staring out onto the tarmac.
“I want to apologise to the boys,” he said, hands on his hips and head hanging low. “I just, can’t stop thinking about them seeing me like that. I don’t…”
Standing where they were, Buck couldn't do much but clasp his shoulder and lean down to look Bucky in the eye. “Then let’s go find ‘em.”
The boys, as it turned out, were just finishing getting dressed. They didn’t notice the Majors enter the bunk house at first.
“-wonder what happened?”
“None of your business, that’s what happened,” said DeMarco.
“It shouldn’t have happened.” Brady. Bucky flinched.
“Ay,” Curtis dove into the conversation. “You don’t know shit. If he got a bit banged up, then he deserved it. Don’t go thinking anything else.”
And despite himself, Bucky let himself crack a smile at Curt’s friendship and loyalty.
“It shouldn’t have happened,” Brady insisted, stubborn and louder. “John’s our leader. He’s a Major. I’m his co-pilot for crying out loud. He should be setting an example, and starting bar fights isn’t it. I don’t know about you, but I want to head into war with the John Egan who has your back, and keeps his head in the air so good he solves problems before half the crew even notice they’re there. Not the John who’ll flip at a switch. I don’t like that John.”
Several of the boys protested and booed Brady and started yelling and cursing, and they knew a more serious argument was about the break out with Brady bearing the brunt of it if they didn’t step in.
Buck let Bucky go when he stepped further into the room.
“Brady’s right,” he called, and the men snapped to attention and Brady dropped the shoe he’d been polishing and stumbled to his feet.
Buck walked up steady behind Bucky, a solid presence at his shoulder. “At ease, gentlemen.”
Bucky stood tall and true. “Last night, I acted in a way that was unfit for a man of the US Airforce, rank be damned. It should never have happened, and it will never happen again. I just wanted you to know that.” He surveyed the boys and they looked on silent. “We all make mistakes, and things get heated sometimes. This one is my mistake, and I’ll own that. So don’t you boys go thinking that starting fights with your fellow airmen to blow of some steam is acceptable. It’s not. You can all learn that lesson from me. That’s part of my job - teaching you how to avoid making the same mistakes I have.”
And in true Bucky fashion he flipped the solemn mood of the room with a switch and a turn of his lips and he gave them a sincere Bucky grin.
“Like that time I wandered into the Colonel’s quarters by mistake and got stuck on latrine duty for a week.” The boys relaxed into their laughter. “Remember that?” He pointed at Curt. “You made me sleep out in that abandoned storage hut until I was done.”
“You stank!”
“Or that time I yanked Ham back from the shaky step heading into the mess hall?”
Ham howled from his bunk. “Because you’d tripped a week or so before it, and sent your scrambled eggs all down a Red Cross dame. That handprint on your cheek didn’t disappear for a whole day!”
Buck just stood back and marvelled at Bucky's ability to work a room.
“So if me or Buck here ain’t around to give you the benefit of our experience,” he reached out and clasped the back of Brady’s head and scrubbed it playfully, “be damn sure you listen to Brady. Best co-pilot there is.”
The men all hollered and scrambled to rib at Brady, rubbing his head like Bucky did or punching him playfully in the arm or chucking his chin.
But Bucky wasn’t finished. “Because we’re the 100th. The best damn bomb squad there is. And we’ll damn well act like it. Do you hear me?”
“Yes sir!”
Bucky shouted louder. “I said do you hear me?!”
“SIR, YES SIR!”
“Because who are we?!”
“The 100th!”
“Who are we?!!”
“THE 100TH!”
“Then get your gear on, get out there, and show ‘em how it’s done!”
Making a thunderous racket, the boys gathered the last of their things and rushed out the door, Brady the last of the group, shooting Bucky a small, pleased, and proud smile before he disappeared.
The silence they left behind was a stark contrast. Until Buck couldn’t take it anymore.
He snorted and cackled and John threw his hands in the air. “Really, Buck?”
Buck cleared his throat and got himself under control. Adopting the highest voice he could, in something that could barely pass as Bucky's odd not-quite Wisconsin accent, he teased him, “My name’s John Egan, and I’m a terrible leader on the ground!”
Bucky shoved him hard, but yanked him back with a firm arm around his bicep and pulled him in close, so the buckles of their belts gave a soft clack in greeting.
They were alone.
“I’ll be flying at at 10.30 sharp,” Bucky mumbled up close.
Buck nodded. “I know. I’ll see you off, if that’s what you’re askin’.”
“Mm, with a handshake in front of the boys.”
Buck gave him a firm look. “Of course. Don’t you go thinking otherwise.”
Bucky smiled and leaned in closer, and Buck was surprised that he even could. “But the boys aren’t here, now.”
“Oh, that’s what you’re lookin’ for, huh? A little send of?”
Bucky's hands bravely slipped down to his waist and squeezed, and Buck resolutely did not think about how his waist fit all nice in John’s stupidly large hands. He was not a small man - he was tall; he worked hard all his life, and despite a less than stellar childhood, always had enough to eat. But John was just so damn big.
“Just a kiss, Buck. For luck. To tide me over till you get over the pond.”
Buck grinned, a rare one showing his teeth and leaned in until he felt the softness of Bucky's lips skim the edges of his own. He kept it there, just not quite touching until he heard Bucky's breath hitch and his hands tried their hardest not to wander some more.
And against that mouth he’d dreamed about in his sleep, he’d fantasised about in his waking hours, he murmured, playful and sweet, “No.”
He turned sharp in his heels and escaped Bucky's grasp and threw a pleased grin over his shoulder at Bucky gaping in his wake.
“Buck!”
“You’ll just have to wait for me, Johnny!” And Gale ducked out of the bunk house and left Bucky behind, to attend his duties.
And John stood there wondering what on earth he was in for, taking up with a tease like Buck Cleven. But he couldn’t wait to find out.
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laurentspeach · 2 days
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hi this is random but I'm obsessed with capri and want to talk about it forever!!! I was wondering what your favourite things are about the writing? like the craft, maybe the set up of the twists/reveals, etc? ilu
omg hi sorry if this has been in my inbox for forever, i didn’t expect to get an ask on this blog!!!
my favourite things about the writing are as follows:
1) Pacat trusts the reader to read between the lines. My favourite example of this (and probably the funniest of the trilogy) is the rooftop scene, where instead of just saying that Damen is getting an erection from Laurent shifting around, Pacat chooses to communicate that through vague dialogue and context clues. Other examples of this include:
Pacat writing “I would be, if the light weren’t behind you” instead of just saying that Damen could see Laurent’s figure because of the lighting.
Pretty much the whole blue dress scene.
2) Pacat makes Damen’s bias affect the whole narrative. Damen’s narration is intended to be accepted as truth at first, however as the trilogy unfolds you start to realize how (unintentionally) unreliable Damen is. Examples of this include:
Damen reiterates through the whole story how honourable and honest Akielons are, yet the readers know he was brutally betrayed by his brother + several of his men, akielons raided + massacred a village (with women and children) without remorse, etc.
Damen also reiterates through the story (mostly in book one) how Akielon slaves are given perfect treatment, but this whole narrative shatters in Training of Erasmus, although Damen is unaware (likely because he not only seems to assume the best in people, but also because he seems to base all Akielons off of himself, and he gave his slaves “perfect treatment”, so why wouldn’t everyone else?)
3) The pacing of Laurent’s arc. I feel like most modern authors who write enemies to lovers are too quick to give away that the “bad guy” is secretly good, but Pacat was NOT afraid to make us absolutely hate Laurent in the first book lmfao. I really appreciated that, because it made us fall in love with Laurent at the same time as Damen, instead of before or after. She made Laurent a good person at heart, who did some genuinely terrible things, which I feel like most authors think is impossible for some reason lmfao.
4) The sex scenes!!! Incredibly tasteful, contribute to the plot (not that I think 100% of sex scenes in media have to, but it certainly helps), well written, not so crude that it takes you out of the story, and also very hot. 10/10 no notes (other than there should have been a rimming scene but I’ll mind my business).
5) There’s a tasteful amount of fan service haha. This includes: size difference, Damen’s otherworldly strength, the pitcher scene, all of the short stories, etc. Thank you Pacat I would die for you
There’s also many more things I love about this series but that’s all for now!!
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kottergumi · 2 days
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megumi isn't really a define the relationship type of person, when things work for him they work. occasionally he'll mull about it, but he doesn't vocalise. yuuji, on the other hand, defines his relationships as whatever the other person wants. he's a friend when you need one, the voice of reason when you're at crossroads, the stranger that you talk to sometimes. really, he plays off the energy of whoever he interacts with.
so there's a long stretch of silence between them, when someone asks them the question. blinking slowly, megumi considers, and yuuji eyes him, curious for his reply. though, megumi isn't really thinking about their relationship, as much as he is thinking about yuuji in general. lashes fluttering, images of unbridled humanity flash — yuuji pausing midway through their conversation to help an elderly lady cross the street, ever first to give up his seat, conversations with the crying student crouched by the pavement, picking up and disposing glass bottles when he finds them. yuuji is kind, and through that megumi is linked, because he is removed from such kindness.
at the sombre expression on his face, yuuji slaps his back lightly, and shoots him a reassuring grin. out of the two of them, megumi has the kinder heart. if yuuji runs on autopilot — cashing in good deeds because being someone dependable has overwritten all other aspects of his sense of self — megumi is honest in his actions. walking past a kid getting bullied, not wanting to get involved, thinking he could just go home and read a book on the only quiet day he has for a while, he still ends up turning around and breaking it up. for megumi, there are options, so there is weight in his choice to be selfless.
yuuji answers first, because for someone whose moral compass is broken and stuck on goodness through and through, megumi is someone he admires.
(thank you again😭 you're genuinely so sweet, i will eventually build up the courage to at least dm you bc i do want to talk to you!! while i work on that, i will burden you with more of my incessant rambling🤧)
this is Everything actually this is like crack to me . 'there are options, so there is weight in his choice to be selfless' bawling
if u evr consider writing full blown fics js know ill b ur no1 supporter 🙏🙏
( take ur time ^_^ ill read like ljterally anything u want to rant ab..if ur ever inclined to share an indicator as to which moot u are tho i'll take that too cs ion want to try and blindly guess based off the way u type )
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sysmedsaresexist · 1 day
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Thank you
I want to send out a really quick thank you to everyone.
If you took the time to read about my journey, to like my post, if you took the time out of your day to write me one of these kind, amazing asks...
Thank you.
I really want to respond to them, but I'm still getting my bearings. The response to my post was the total opposite of what I expected. I came back to such an amazing flood of support that I genuinely don't know what to do with it all. I'm still going through my activity after a couple hours already.
I've read every single ask and mention, I've memorized your name, they've touched me and my heart.
I want to reply to all, but if I just hold on to yours because it makes me so happy, trust that I'll be looking for you in the tags and I hope to interact in the future.
I should have done this sooner, honestly.
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luckyfluffy-ccs · 11 hours
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GiaB 1 Year Aniversary!
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It's been officially 1 WHOLE year since I started posting my fic "Goldfish in a Bottle" on Ao3! In that timespan I have gotten amazing readers who have supported me through all that time by reading, kudo-ing, commenting and even making ART for this story. Hitting crazy milestones like 700+ kudos and 16k+ hits!
I would have never imagined that this silly AU of mine would have gained any attention at all. I thought of it as something to share if people would like it alongside me, but never thought I'd have fans waiting for updates?? Insane.
I have said it so many times by now you must be sick of hearing it, but genuinely thank you to everyone who has been reading this story of mine. I wouldn't have had the motivation to get this far without you guys. I appreciate all of you so much, my lovely readers you have no idea <3
Ps, the Q&A will be shared in individual posts, you guys asked so much!/pos (please note there is a little delay to these posts, as a sudden private matter popped up)
{alternative versions of the art under the cut}
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Please mind I haven't drawn a properly rendered drawing in like a year,, but I had to get something out!
Me when I'm in a drawing the sizes inconsistently competition and I am there.
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transgenderer · 57 minutes
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Summer transgenderer I always enjoy seeing your thoughts on art. What do you think of the new official portrait of charles III https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/entertainment-arts-68981200
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??? genuinely baffled by this choice. he looks like hes covered in gore? am i crazy. theres a lot of brown mixed in with the red! brownish and yellowish and none of the nice stately red you see on a sash or something, its all sort of a pale fleshy sick red. like. if you showed this to me unprompted i would assume its something about like. the way the medals of honor are utterly doused in the blood of colonialism.
anyway. assuming you DONT go with that reading its uh... theres some cool choices. the way he sort of fades into the background is cool idea but im not sure it was executed right, i feel like making his clothes stand out more from the background OR make his skin fade in more would be better. like as it is it feels...silly? like those things at the boardwalk you put your head through.
i like that he has multiple layered outfits, i love that kind of layering. the butterfly feels weird, doing a single non-king object is a strange choice. esp cuz the colors dont contrast with the background. i think a flock of butterflies or something would be much cooler. or at least it should be on his shoulder instead of awkwardly near it
anyway thanks!
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shepherds-of-haven · 20 hours
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just discovered shoh and pledged to the patreon after getting like. four pages into the public demo. i knew it was gonna be a blast immediately, and i was so right. if only i didn't discover it in the middle of finals week.... anyway! just wanted to say i absolutely love your writing, and i love how reminiscent shoh is of my favorite crpgs and jrpgs in terms of mechanics and atmosphere. you really take advantage of both the "fiction" and "interactive" aspects of interactive fiction!! and don't get me STARTED on the characters. every time a new wave of characters got recruited, i had a new favorite. i think briony is my absolute favorite, which i sort of expected from reading through the character bios, but if you had to ask me for my next favorite i expect it'd be like. a four or five way tie. it's impressive how you juggle such a large cast and make them all feel so distinct and likable. again, gotta commend your free time mechanic, i don't think there's a single IF where i've felt like i had the option to genuinely get to know all of my companions in one run, nor where i've felt as motivated to get to know each and every one. and they feel like they're friends with each other too!!! even some of my favorite rpgs fall into the trap of making the characters revolve around the MC. and, hey, i like to feel like the center of the universe as much as the next girl, but i'd like to feel like i'm at the center of a real group of people with their own lives and friends. you pull this off SO well. i could go on and talk about how fun it is to look at all the art and music you've commissioned. but i won't. because i'm still on chapter 7 and then i am going to be reading through all the short stories you've posted on patreon. ANYWAY!! thank you so much for sharing such a lovely story with us all!!!!!
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Thank you so much for your incredible words... It's always messages like these that keep me motivated and my spirits high! Thank you so much for taking the time to share your enthusiasm and support for ShoH, for supporting the project and my work on Patreon, for taking the time to explore all of the different characters and to leave such a sweet and thoughtful note about everything you like about the game! (And yes, Briony is the greatest too!) It means the world to me to hear that you're enjoying it all, and I hope you enjoy the short stories when you get started on reading them! Thank you so much again, and good luck with your finals!! 🥺💖💖💖
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justicerikai · 2 days
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End of the road. Oatscurry! (but like, fr this this time)
First of all:
Yippeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Final translation for Charisma House has been posted! Woohoo! Yay! Good work me, clap clap clap, I'm soooo cool! Clap clap clap.
Anyway.
What a road this has been, yep yep. I already made some dramatic post when I quit the first time, and then an other when I came back, and honestly I forgot what I said in these, lol. But I will spare the theatrics, maybe.
Either way, what a long road it's been! One with ups and downs for sure, but definitely a rewarding one. Especially seeing how far my translations have reached people...! I'm still trying to process my impact, which honestly scares me, so I don't think I can ever truly comprehend it, but hey! That's how things are in life. It's not my quote, but something something about how we all carry things from each other that form us as people, no matter how big or small said pieces are (maybe I am making this up). If I was able to be a 'piece' of that through my translations, then I am more than satisified with what I did here.
After all, it is why I translate! To share what I love!
But that's the problem!
I love too many things!
That's right, I discovered something new I want to put all my time into, which comes with a sacrifice. But said sacrifice isn't only because of this. I am making the steps to pursue translating as a genuine career. I'm unsure how life will look like for me going forward, if I'll even have the time for translating season 3.
Which is why I will be stopping with translating Charisma House as a whole.
In order to not burn myself out from fantranslating too many things once again, and in order to also prioritize life stuff. Season 2 is my final contribution to you all.
Also, I'm more than happy enough to let official-kun take over, even if we have our personal grievances with the subtitles (or they are simply not as cool, witty, clever and funny as me <- for your information, I'm jesting.)
So yeah, that's all I had to say I think. I yapped enough. Of course, this isn't all you'll be seeing of me. If you're wondering about other corners of the internet I'm hanging out at, catch me at @82mitsu on here, or on Twitter. There I'm continuing my translator endeavors for 18TRIP! A mobage with a rather colorful cast of characters and interesting setting!
If you're wondering what I'm doing outside of translating, uh... I don't know, if you're playing FFXIV you can find me AFKing in Limsa somewhere, lol. I'm genuinely not that much of an interesting person, so I don't think you gotta know me outside of what I do.
As closure, I once again would love to repeat a quote I had first mentioned in my graduation post:
“The world is filled to the brim with nice things… and all of them are carrying someone’s intentions and feelings.
When those feelings get across and manage to make someone happy… I gain little pieces of confidence,
that I’ll gather together and carry with me as I move on.”
Thank you for reading all my translations.
Thank you for being able to find enjoyment in what I do.
Thank you for using the time of your day to get to know Charisma House through my work.
Thank you for all the kind messages I've received up until now.
Thank you for your patience.
But most importantly, thank you for getting into Charisma House.
OTSUKARISMA!
and one last time,
RIGHTEOUSNESS
IS
GLORIOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUS
Ah, but do remember. I value a good, sweet translation that encapsulates everyone nicely. If official-kun's crimes are so, so bad, in Season 3...
I will be back, with pure vengeance.
I've mentioned it before, how the difference in translation interpretation has made me interested in this field to begin with.
What I never mentioned is that it was fueled by spite.
And we all know how that is the greatest motivator to mankind.
justicerikai, signing off! o7
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uniquexusposts · 2 days
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Her || Charles Leclerc
Main characters: Charles Leclerc x OC Genre: fanfiction, fluff  Story type: novel  Part: 11/? Word count: 3089 Co writer: @mistrose23
Summary: This was Matilde Jørgensen, the newly appointed team principal of Scuderia Ferrari, about to face one of the most nerve-wracking challenges of her life. She tried to save the team from more disappointing results and put everything on the line to make them world champion again. There will be a big challenge to lead a historic team as 'newbie' and keeping her work and personal opinions apart from each other. The big question everybody will be asking: is she capable to do so?
Chapter 9. Night Guards
The Ferrari Factory was cloaked in darkness as Matilde's car glided to a halt in the parking lot. The moon hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the iconic factory campus.
With a sigh and a hint of exhaustion, she stepped out of her car. Nerves travelled through her body. After last weekend's situation, she wasn't sure if she wanted to continue her role at Ferrari. However, it didn't feel right to drop everything and leave after only five races. She grabbed her bag from the backseat and locked her car, walking towards the entrance. The factory grounds were quiet at this hour, devoid of the usual hustle and bustle that defined the daylight hours. The parking lot, which was typically teeming with cars and personnel, now held just a handful of vehicles.
Instead of entering the office building, she entered the factory building. She scanned her pass and got in. Matilde exchanged greetings with the guard, who was happy to see her. The man congratulated the woman on the win, and they shared a few words about the race weekend.
After a quick security check, she continued her way to the canteen. Matilde just started to get to know this building. She ran her hand through her hair and yawned. Even though she was still living in the American time zone, she was getting tired because of the darkness outside.
"You are a real warrior," Mario, the manager of the night shift, said when Matilde entered the canteen. The entire night crew looked at the team principal, who was standing in front of them. "I didn't receive a cancellation, but we didn't expect you to still show up for the night shift."
Matilde scanned every person in the room, waiting for their reaction. Would they react the same as the racetrack team? She didn't know it anymore, she didn't know who was genuine and who wasn't.
"You just had a race in America and you are already here," Angelo added, a mechanic.
Everyone looked surprised to see Matilde, but they looked grateful at the presence of the woman. They all were drinking tea or coffee, preparing for their long night at the factory.
A fragile smile came on Matilde's face. "When I say I will be there, I will be there," she said. "I'm still in the American time zone; I will be up all night anyway. Might spend it here as well."
"Well, in that case," Mario said and got up. He made his way to the fridge and took out a white box. "Unfortunately, we cannot pop the champagne now," he said and put the box on the table. "But we can celebrate it with cake." Mario opened the box.
Matilde looked at the cake, and her lips parted. Tears flowed into her eyes when she read the text on the cream. 'Congratulations on your first win!' She looked up and glanced at Mario and then at the team. "Guys..."
"Congratulations, Matilde!"
"Your first win will always be special. We sadly couldn't be in Miami to celebrate it with you, but we will celebrate it with you now," Mario proudly smiled. "It was a perfect weekend for the team, and we couldn't be more proud of everyone."
Appreciation, that was the thing she missed during the entire weekend. How come the track team didn't even bother to ask her to join the celebration, and the night team came up with a celebration themselves? "Thank you," Matilde said. "Thank you for all your hard work, we couldn't wish for a better weekend, and that is because of your dedication and work. Grazie a tutti," she widely smiled. "Grazie ragazzi."
The night team beamed with pride as Matilde expressed her gratitude. Their cheers and applause filled the canteen, breaking the silence of the late-night hour. It was a heartfelt celebration, a sign of the strong bond that existed between the night shift team and their team principal.
Matilde's eyes glistened with unshed tears as she looked around at her colleagues. These were the unsung heroes of Ferrari, the ones who toiled through the night to ensure that every detail of the F1 operation was flawless. And they cared about everyone within the team. These were the people who kept the operation going.
With a renewed sense of purpose, Matilde approached the cake. She took a knife and began cutting slices for everyone in the canteen. The cake, a symbol of their shared achievement, was quickly devoured as the team was insulted by this midnight treat.
"So, tell us, how was this weekend?" Mario asked curiously.
Matilde shared her experiences with the people. She told about the great teamwork, the problems that were quickly solved and how everything felt like they bonded. Matilde had shared before that things weren't going smoothly within the track team, but she proudly told how things changed this weekend. Due to her professionalism, she decided not to share the moment that broke her heart. It was something she had to deal with, she didn't want to ruin their view on the rest of the team.
"And the celebrations?" Angelo asked. "Huge dinner party?"
The team principal nodded. "Yup." Her eyes met the eyes of a mechanic who was also part of the track team, who was also picking up night shifts every now and then. "It was fun." Matilde was hoping that the mechanic wouldn't ruin her reputation within this crew.
A mechanic scoffed. "Fun for the team, yes."
Her hope sank. Matilde's face straightened, and she swallowed hard. She looked down and waited for the rest of his response.
"We had a fun dinner, indeed. Until something happened," the mechanic continued. Everyone looked at him while he looked at Matilde, who was clearly feeling uncomfortable. "It turned out that our people didn't even bother to invite Matilde to the celebration dinner."
Matilde felt a mixture of surprise and trepidation as the mechanic continued to speak. She had hoped that the incident wouldn't come to light during the night shift. As the mechanic's words hung in the air, there was a moment of tense silence. Matilde could feel the eyes of the night shift team on her, assessing her reaction.
"Yes, it is true," she began, her voice steady. "There was an incident at the celebratory dinner. It wasn't the way I had hoped the evening would go. But let's not dwell on that. What matters is that we had a fantastic race weekend, and the team's performance was exceptional." She shifted the focus away from the negative moment, choosing to highlight the success. It was a delicate balance between acknowledging the issue and steering the conversation toward more positive aspects.
"Why was she not invited?" A woman blurted towards the mechanic of the track team. "How dare you say that in front of her? This is straight-up bullying!"
The eyes of the mechanic shot up to the woman. "Hey, I am not saying this to make her feel more bad; I'm saying this because what happened was not classy from our side. I had heard that Matilde couldn't be there, multiple people asked where she was, and everyone said she couldn't be there. But that wasn't true, no one invited her. And I didn't know that," he defended himself, but also Matilde. Ever since he found out that no one had invited her on purpose, he felt extremely bad about it. "The team principal always joins the celebration dinner."
Eyes shot to Matilde, who looked hurt. "I was told no one was celebrating it because of the early flight the next morning," she replied. "I was with Red Bull because my best friend works at Red Bull, and it's my old team. And my flight was leaving in the late afternoon the next day. I wanted to celebrate it," she defended herself.
Silence fell in the canteen.
"But the champagne move... Legendary," the mechanic said. "How did you dare to do that?"
"What exactly did she do?" Mario asked. He looked at Matilde. "What did you do?"
The mechanic smirked. "At some point, we all got served a glass of champagne, telling us we got the compliments from our team principal."
"How did you know that they were there?" Angelo asked Matilde.
"Apparently, I was in the same restaurant," Matilde replied. "Leclerc texted me, asking where I was, and at that moment, I saw the entire team sitting in the back of the restaurant. I already downed two shots, and I had some champagne in my system, so I don't know what I was thinking."
Chuckles and giggles filled the canteen, causing Matilde to smile lightly. Did this mean that Matilde could feel relieved?
"This is a boss ass bitch move; I love it," a young woman said, who sat in the corner of the room. "As you should, Matilde. Show them how shitty they acted. Own it."
Angelo laughed. "I must say, it's not very professional, but I would absolutely do the same if I were you in that situation. Whoever thought that it was okay not to invite you, should get fired."
"Don't give her ideas," Mario said. He thought the situation was funny because of the reaction of Matilde, but he noticed the situation was hurting her and how she lost the trust in her team. When she entered the canteen, she reacted differently. Now he understood why. It was everything but classy for his colleagues to treat her like that. "It sounds like there was a misunderstanding, Matilde. Maybe the message got lost somewhere along the way."
The woman who had spoken up earlier took a deep breath and spoke again, her voice filled with empathy. "But that doesn't excuse the fact that we should have ensured you were included."
"It isn't your fault, Valentina," Matilde responded. "You weren't there."
"But it is our team; they are our colleagues."
"I really appreciate that. Miscommunications happen, and yeah, so be it. I will pick it up tomorrow. I was in my fault, they were in their fault, and we have to talk about it." She acted like it didn't bother her that much, but the fact that these people supported her more than the people she worked with on a daily base...
"I don't like those people anyway," the young woman said. "They all act like they are better than us; meanwhile, they are taking our credits."
"Don't mind Stella. She says what we are all thinking, but we keep it in front of us, and she doesn't," Angelo replied and looked disapprovingly at her.
Matilde politely smiled at the crew. She made eye contact with the mechanic, who stood up for her. She gave him a grateful nod, which he returned with a smile and a wink. "Anyway, thank you all for your concern, but it happened; it's in the past. Let's move forward," she said, hoping the moment would pass. "And this is told in confidence. So whatever is said here, stays here. Unless you think it is inappropriate, then you know where to find the board, and I will happily have a conversation about it." She realised she had lost the authority, she didn't like authority, but she was the team principal after all.
As the night shift began, Matilde felt a warmth in her heart that transcended the exhaustion of her long journey from Miami. She was there for them, and they were there for her.
Throughout the night, Matilde worked alongside her night shift team. They discussed strategies, reviewed data and ensured that every aspect of the past race and upcoming race was discussed. Matilde picked up some office tasks, preparing for the upcoming week with briefings and meetings.
* * *
The next day, the Ferrari office was bustling with activity. The race track team got back to work after their days off after the weekend. The team had gathered for a small inauguration ceremony, a celebration of Carlos and Charles' impressive performances during the previous race weekend in Miami. It was an opportunity to recognize their achievements and boost team morale.
As the team members gathered in the massive hall of the office, there was a palpable sense of excitement in the air. Colleagues chatted, sharing their pride in the team's success.
Charles and Carlos were standing in the room next to the hall, waiting for the ceremony to start.
"Matilde will be here, too, right?" Carlos asked Charles after not having spotted the team principal. She usually was present before everyone else was at the office.
"I don't know." A frown grew on Charles' forehead. "I saw on Instagram that she was in Denmark, for her mum's birthday or something. Perhaps she's still there."
"Weird," Carlos replied.
"But maybe she's on her way."
Finally, the double doors at the hall swung open. Charles and Carlos stepped into the room, greeted by applause and cheers from their colleagues. Their smiles radiated the joy of the moment. They waved at their team.
"Ladies and gentlemen, colleagues and friends, today we gather to celebrate the remarkable achievements of our drivers: Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz!" The spokesperson of Ferrari took the task of leading this ceremony. "What a race, boys. Congratulations."
The room erupted in applause again, and Charles and Carlos exchanged smiles. However, when the ceremony continued, Charles and Carlos missed the presence of one person. Carlos was asked to say something about the weekend. It gave Charles the chance to scan the hall once again. There was still no sign of Matilde. It worried him. Did this have to do with Sunday? He still hadn't had the chance to speak with her about what had happened, as he felt extremely bad about it, but had she given up already? Charles thought about the situation a lot, and he wondered if he could have prevented it.
The sliding doors of the entrance opened. Charles' eyes shot to the person who had entered the building. He watched how she entered the building and went through security. It looked like she had no idea what was going on. The woman was wearing grey trousers and a blue, oversized button-up shirt, her hair in a low bun. She was carrying two bags and a coat. Once she entered the hall, she came to a halt. Her eyes scanned the hall.
A sense of guilt washed over Charles as their eyes met. He pursed his lips tightly, seeing the emotions written all over her face. Her expression changed from surprise to pain. Her face told stories. Then her face showed a clear message that she didn't want anyone's pity or sympathy. A few other people noticed Matilde's presence as well, being shocked to see her.
Matilde walked towards the podium, between all the people. Anger was playing a huge role in her emotions right now, but she had to ignore it and show who the team principal was. Her eyes met Galileo's, who was standing next to the podium. His eyes widened. Matilde ignored him and dumped her stuff on the ground, next to the podium. She stepped on the podium and stood next to Charles, wearing a professional smile, but her eyes showed a bitchy look. If you were standing close by, you would notice it.
Carlos ended this speech and looked at the spokesperson. His eyes fell on Matilde, who shared a smile. He smiled back, being relieved she indeed was on her way when they were waiting at the beginning.
The spokesperson looked at Matilde. "Well, once again: thank you all for being here," he said. "Matilde, good to have you here as well."
"I was not aware of this celebration," she mumbled under her breath, not knowing Charles heard her. Matilde looked at Galileo; she would have a word with him afterwards.
"Charles, we will go to you in a second, but first, a word from Matilde."
Charles handed the microphone over to the woman next to him.
A smile rested on her face. Over the weeks, she realised how good she became at acting and putting on fake smiles. "Of course, Carlos, outstanding work. It was a faultless race from your side, an almost faultless race on our side. We had an issue, but we managed to fix it in time, so I consider it a faultless race," she said and looked at Carlos. She moved her gaze to Charles. "Charles, your outstanding performances made us all proud. The way you fought with the Red Bulls and defended was just brilliant." Matilde turned to the people in front of the podium. "And you! Each and every one of you is also the reason why the team won. If you were at the track, at the factory or at home, because of you, we put out an amazing performance. It's not just about the victory, but also about the teamwork and determination of everyone. Well done, everyone. Keep up the good work." She handed the microphone to Charles.
"I agree with everything that Matilde just said," he said and chuckled. "We couldn't have done it without the dedication and hard work of every person in this room. This win is yours as much as it is ours."
The hall burst into applause again. Matilde joined in the clapping, showing that she was there for the team. Even though she had a lot of anger in her body, she recognised this moment of unity and celebration, a reminder of what they achieved together, and what they could achieve together in the future.
After the speeches, the team mingled, sharing stories and congratulations. Charles, Carlos and Matilde posed for photos with their colleagues, holding their trophies proudly. The first celebration of the season and as a team with a new team principal were enjoyed, suddenly there were no tensions left.
Matilde stepped down the stage and collected her stuff. It was not even nine hours after the end of the night shift; she wasn't even supposed to be here for another two hours. She walked away from the celebrations, and she wanted to leave the hall, until someone stopped her.
"We have a board meeting scheduled."
Another thing she wasn't aware of. Matilde smiled. "I will be there," she said. She was open to attending the meeting two hours before she was allowed to start working again. "After I have spoken to my assistant."
"Everyone is waiting for you."
"I will be there," she repeated, taking a second to make clear that she would be there. "After I have seen my assistant," she said, looking the man in the eyes, giving him a stern nod and walked away. 
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noiholic · 11 months
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mini-psa
I haven’t been active on tumblr or twt in forever. Nothing major triggered it, I got really busy at one point, and went inactive, but when things calmed down, I lost the habit of checking in and being active in fandom 😳... I’m really sorry for suddenly disappearing🙇‍♀️! Recently, I’ve gotten back into writing fanfic again. It feels fun to flex my creativity! Moving forward, I would like to try doing commissions, too. I will open a few slots soon. Tbh I’m not sure there’ll be any takers if l advertise on my decrepit meme blog. I’ll prob make a write-blr and crosspost my works there for easy reference, together with commission info. I’ll link it back here if I do that.
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starflungwaddledee · 5 months
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from: @starflungwaddledee to: @post-it-notes7
message from santa: "happy holidays post-it-notes! 🎄🥳 i know you very politely only wished for a few modest things- characters high fiving, or struggling in christmas attire- but i hope you'll still enjoy this given that i kinda went the opposite direction entirely! i'm an enormous fan of your work and most times you post anything i wind up browsing your art tag from tip-to-tail in enraptured delight. as such, i thought it was only fair i give back something a little more significant in gratitude for all the joy your work has given me. i knew i wanted to do a comic, so i was thrilled you already had a whole storyverse for me to work from!! this scene seemed the most obvious choice (chapter 8 of "wishful thinking" on ao3) given that i enjoy a dramatic fight scene 😂 i tried to stick as beat-by-beat to the writing as i could and worked in as many details as possible; i hope it'll be fun to see it envisioned this way! merry christmas! ~starflung 🎀🔔 "
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oc-center · 5 months
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Welcome to OC-Center's BIRTHDAY PARTY! 🎉
One year of sharing people's OCs to give them visibility, one year of a growing community, one year down with many to go ♥ Below I will share the OC-Center Wrapped, to see everything about this year in stats! 🙌
In the meantime, what better way to celebrate than showing off your own OC in this big party photo?
All your OCs are cordially invited to join in the festivities - add them to the picture in a reblog with a short tidbit introducing them to everyone; that's the best way to make friends at a party!
Will you accept OC-Center's invitation? 🥳
OC-Center Wrapped:
Anniversary: 11th of December Posts: 3,331 Followers: 866 'Needs Love' (posts with 10 notes or below): 41 Most popular original post: Bubble Web post
Number of OCs shared: 3233 'humanoid' OCs: 2261 'anthro' OCs: 646 'creature' OCs: 403 Submissions shared: 226
What a wonderful year! Thank you everyone, and here's to the next one ♥
Ressources used for stats:
Tumblr Stats: https://jetblackcode.com/TumblrStats Tag Counter: https://drunkonschadenfreude.com/
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hurglewurm · 8 months
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me: keeps drawing random one-off fanarts from things that aren't currently big at all
also me: why no notes on my arte
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