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#maybe like a maxi skirt..
maretriarch · 1 year
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I cant tell if I've been genuinely getting more weird looks in public as of late or if it's the paranoia either way you not rocking with me i will kill myself.jpg
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want to make a maxi skirt but also I struggle with dressing feminine because I feel like it never looks good on me but also i want to be pretty but also I want to be mask but also skirts are good for hot weather somebody put me out of my misery
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trvelyans-archive · 2 years
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tbh i am feeling cautiously optimistic for the upcoming school year :D
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ftmwillz · 1 month
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genuinely asking: if you received a wedding invitation with the dress code “dressy casual” what would you wear?
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4b9 · 8 months
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mumei merch comin in tmrw teehee I'm so so so excited
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wishlistcharles · 1 month
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secrets we keep (pt1) → mv1
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max verstappen x perez!fem reader
genre: one night stand, teammates sister, pregnancy
cw: 18+ MDNI, smut, oral (male receiving), p in v, slight spit play, dirty talk, mentions of pregnancy, pls let me know if i am forgetting anything
word count: 3.1k
song: too sweet - hozier
sidenote: hi everyone! finally a new fic is here and it's a max one! this is going to be a two parter, so keep an eye out for the next one! please let me know if y'all have any ideas or requests for a fic (I write for all drivers), also not beta read. hope you all enjoy <3
♡♡♡♡
The roars of the crowd were loud as Max crossed the finish line, followed closely by Sergio. For a second there you had thought your brother would overtake the world champion, but nonetheless he fought hard and gave the team what they wanted, a 1-2 finish. 
It wasn’t often you got to go to your brother's races, maybe only a handful a year but you were lucky to be able to get the time off to join your niece and nephews for the Japanese Grand Prix. Sergio would topple over if he knew you had the hots for his teammate. Every time you have met with Max, it’s been very cordial. Polite hellos, asking how life in Mexico is, what you have been up to since he last saw you. 
A part of you wondered why he was so timid with you. Was it because of Sergio? Being the baby of the family left him feeling protective of you, but you don’t think that would affect how Max interacted with you. I mean you barely saw him. 
Watching the pair on the podium set tears in your eyes. You were extremely proud of your big brother and his teammate. 
Your dad absolutely adored max and had invited him to join us for a celebratory dinner after the race. Which to your surprise he happily accepted. 
You were staying at the same hotel that both the bulls were at, so reconnecting for dinner would not be difficult. After the race you decided to head back to freshen up and change your clothes into something a little more fancy. At the race you were wearing a white tennis skirt with a red bull polo tucked in. For dinner you decided to wear a  black  over the shoulder dress that fit you perfectly. Finally ready you walk down and see that only Max is waiting in the lobby. Your stomach turns at the thought of being alone with him.
Picking his head up from looking down at his phone he notices you walking toward him and waves shyly. “Hi y/n, looks like it’s only us ready” he said in a tiny voice. You are always so used to him being outspoken it kinda scares you a little. “hi maxie, you know how my family is with time management, they should be down here soon” you said with a laugh, not even acknowledging the nickname that slipped from your mouth. 
A sudden tinge of pink washes over Max’s cheeks and you feel heat radiating up your neck. Act cool, you keep telling yourself but you are so nervous. Max was all you ever wanted in a guy. Handsome, sweet, confident, the list could go on. You knew deep down though your worlds would never clash well. You lived in Mexico with your parents - working as a teacher. Max lived in Monaco and raced for one of the best teams in formula one history, surrounded by models throwing themselves at him. You couldn’t blame them, you would do the same, if you thought you ever had a chance. 
“No worries, I always have to wait for Checo to come to our team meetings” he laughed. “I bet, if there’s one thing my brother isn’t know for it’s being on time, thank you for coming to dinner with us though, we really appreciate it, I know my dad and brother do a lot”
With a smirk on his face something shifts “oh just your dad and brother, not you?”. You feel the breath knocked out of your lungs, just as you are about to open your mouth to respond, tiny roars make notice in the room and you almost fall at your nephew running to you, so you could pick him up. Silently you thank your nephew for the interruption. 
Dinner goes smoothly. You sat at the opposite end of the table with the kids, while your brother, dad, and max were deep in conversation. You swore that Max kept looking at you though, sneaking glances. 
As the check gets situated, all of you make your way out onto the busy streets of Japan. You hear your brother speak up “Y/N are you gonna come get ice cream with us” and while you were deeply contemplating it, you decided to pass up the offer and head back to the hotel. 
“No I think I'm gonna head back to the hotel and pack, I want to take the kids to get breakfast tomorrow morning before we leave” you say.
“no puedes caminar solo es tarde en la noche” (you can't walk alone, it's late at night) your brother worries. 
“Sergio, I'm fine, it's not that far from the hotel, I'll grab a taxi” before he could protest, Max jumped in.
“I can take a taxi back with y/n, I'm super tired after the race, and I'll make sure she makes it to her hotel room” 
“Are you sure Max?” Sergio asks.
“Yes I'm sure, it was a lovely evening, thank you for inviting me” 
Your family bids their farewells and walks away, leaving just the two of you waiting for a taxi. As you guys are picked up, you both don't say a word in the car, sitting in an uncomfortable silence. Max pays the driver and you thank him quietly. Making your way up to the floor where both of your rooms are, you stop at his first. “Thank you for bringing me back Max, I appreciate it” 
“Of course it's no problem, hey I'm actually not really that tired, do you wanna play Fifa or watch a movie?” he asks. Something deep down is telling you to decline. Spending time with him is just going to dig you deeper in a hole with how you feel about him, nonetheless, you can't let this opportunity go and accept this offer. 
Walking in you notice the room is ten times bigger than yours, with a balcony and jacuzzi tub in the middle of the bathroom. Max must notice your awe because he says “I don't know why they give us such big rooms, we are hardly ever even in here”
“Haha it's nice for Checo because the kids get to play around” 
“You are really close with them, aren't you?”
“They are practically my own, when their mom is out doing business I usually keep them, I also help homeschool them” 
“Well that's very sweet of you” he says while taking a seat on the bed, while motioning you to do the same.
“Do you want something to drink” he offers
“No I'm okay” you politely decline. You still can't believe this, you are in Max Verstappen's room all alone. 
“Okay let's put on a movie! What are you up for, should we do action” you sense a sudden shift in his mood, you can't quite place it, maybe excitement. You believe he can probably sense that you are nervous. The mention of action makes your ears perk up.“Can we please watch fast and the furious, I am on a mission to have all my friends watch it”
Max doesn't protest, just laughs quietly and nods, setting the movie in place. You make yourself comfortable and take off your big hoop earrings and heels- even though they werent big by any means they still hurt you. Once you are back in bed with him, you notice him looking at you.
“Is there something on my face?” You laugh
“No i just guess I never noticed how different but similar you look from checo”
“Really? How so?” You question
“Well for one, you are very pretty, but you have the same freckles that Checo does covering your cheeks and nose” Max’s comment has you feeling shy, you know you must be sporting a prominent blush across your face and neck. 
“well thank you Max, it's funny because growing up, i never had freckles, but i think being out in the sun for races and the kids karting tournaments have really brought them to surface” 
“That's interesting, I admire how close to your family you are, something I wish I had” he says so quietly you almost miss it. You don't know what possesses you to do this but you place your hand over his and say “you are always welcome in this family max, we all love you, and no matter where sergio goes next year- you will always be welcomed with open arms” 
He stares at you with a blank face- unable to tell what he's thinking you begin to think that was the wrong thing to say when suddenly he leans down a plants a gentle kiss over your lips. You gasp at the touch. Max pulls back with wide eyes and says “shit I shouldn't have done that, Checo will kill me if he found out”. Instead of agreeing with him, you keep your hand held tightly over his and whisper “he doesn't have to know”. That's all it seems to take for max to lean back in and start kissing you. 
You grab the front of his shirt, gripping the fabric in your hands. His palm cups your jaw, slowly deepening the kiss. Once his tongue makes his way in, you let out a quiet moan. 
Grabbing your hips, Max shifts your position so that you are laying on the bed while he towers over you. “You are so pretty y/n, been wanting to do this forever” he says while tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. While you want to pour your heart out, your nerves stop you and all you can do is nod and say “want you so bad max”. 
He continues to kiss you, tracing his mouth up and down your neck and along the junction between your shoulder and neck placing feather-like kisses. There’s nothing more that you want then for him to leave a big bruise plastered for everyone to see but you knew that wasn’t possible. 
You grab his head and place your lips back on his. Moving his hand to your hair he grips it tightly, keeping you in his control. Slowly he rocks his hips down to meet yours, creating a union of moans to spill from the both of you. This must be the breaking point for max because he stops to take off his shirt and grabs your dress to do the same. Not before asking “is this okay”. 
“Of course it’s okay, I want all of you” you whisper out. His pants also come off in the process. Both of you left in your underwear. You could feel yourself soaked through your panties. Max moves his hand so that his thumb is slowly running along your slit through the fabric. A moan is pushed out of you with a quiet plea of more. 
Growing impatient you tug the straps of your bra down your shoulders exposing your breasts to him. This catches his attention because Max is on them immediately. Sucking and kissing them, basically worshiping them. “Fuck, these tits are perfect. They were practically popping out of your dress earlier, wanted to take you to the bathroom at the restaurant and just suck on them for hours” 
You would have never guessed Max to be into dirty talk but it’s a pleasant surprise. “I want you in me Max, please, I’ve been waiting for this” 
“How can I deny such a pretty girl? '' With that being said, Max gets up and walks to his bag to pull out what seems to be a condom. While he’s doing that, you shimmy your underwear down your legs and throw it somewhere in the room. Before he approaches the bed, Max takes his underwear off and you see his cock spring free. Your mouth instantly waters at the sight. He’s big, just like you thought he would be. Pale and veiny. Pink and wet at the tip.
You wanted him in you but not before you got a taste of him. You motion him up towards your mouth, so that his legs are on both sides of your shoulders. “I want to taste you, can I Max?” You said hoping your voice and eyes truly show the desire you have burning for him. 
“Go ahead sweetie, suck me off”
That’s all you needed to hear before taking the tip in your mouth, lightly sucking. Max groans at the sensation and places a hand behind your head for support. Popping yourself off the tip, you lick a long strip under his shaft, following the prominent vein that lies there. You place feather-like kisses on the head hoping to tease him. As you look up at him, you see his mouth slightly agape, eyes stuck on you. “Don't tease me baby, c'mon”.
You start to bob your head, up and down, making sure you move your tongue back and forth. You palm at his balls and hear a hiss, thinking he must be sensitive. 
“Fuck, you suck me off so good, this mouth was made for me, wasn't it y/n” 
You whimper at the words and try to push yourself further down his cock. Grabbing your head, he pulls you off and says “I need to get in you”. 
You nod your head fast and practically beg “please Max, please want you in me”.
As he positioned himself between your legs, he's looking directly at your core, you start to feel a bit insecure and try to close your legs, but he uses both his to keep them open. “You have such a pretty pussy, want to absolutely devour it” what he does next has you almost combust. He hovers his mouth over your core and lets a string of spit come done to coat you. Taking his index and middle finger he holds you open and lets another drop of spit fall on you. You are moaning so loud, you place your hand over your mouth to try and keep yourself quiet. 
Max places two fingers in you while simultaneously rubbing slow circles over your clit. You are desperate for him to get in you. “Max I'm good, you can get in me”.
That's all he needs to hear before he puts his condom on and sinks into you. The burn is unlike anything you have felt before. You were definitely not used to his size but the stretch was addicting. As he builds up pace, you place your hands over his back, your fingernails gripping onto his shoulders, it feels so so good. “Faster” you whisper. Max listens. You could already feel the coil in your stomach about to snap, what pushes you over the edge is Max’s dirty talk. “You wrap around me so good, best pussy I've ever had, what would people think if they saw my roommate's sister coming all over my cock” you can't respond, all you can do is moan.
Finally catching your breath you say “you feel so good Max, you are gonna make me cum” and you tuck your head into his neck licking a fat stripe near his Adams apple. “I'm gonna come too, come with me y/n”.
The next couple of minutes go by in a blur, you feel yourself clenching on his cock, cumming while he pumps in and out of you with his hand rubbing at your clit. He kisses you hard as he groans into your mouth. “Fuck that was good” he states and all you can do is nod. 
Max takes off his condom, and goes to the bathroom, returning in his underwear, with a warm washcloth. You feel embarrassed but you let him clean you up. You are left undressed so you ask if he could hand you your dress. The room is filled with an awkward tension. Max can tell because he lays down on the bed and pats it for you to lay with him. 
You feel like you should decline and be on your way, not wanting to overstay your welcome. But you genuinely don't think this will ever happen again and want to cherish what little time you have in the same proximity.  You lay with your head on his chest and his arm thrown over you with the tv playing in the background. Time passes quickly and within 30 minutes you hear soft snores coming out of max. You take this as your cue to leave. You slip yourself away and gather your belongings. Taking one last glance at him you smile and quietly make your way out of the room. 
You don't have a lot of time to reflect once you get back to your room because you have to shower, and pack for your flight in the morning. You don't know if you and Max will ever reconnect like that, but you are grateful for the time you shared. 
You don't see or hear from Max before you leave Japan, but maybe it's for the best. Your brother didn't expect anything and you are determined to keep it that way. 
The first couple of weeks back in Mexico were rough, slowly recovering from your trip. Around 6 weeks after being home and two more grand prix taking place, you feel sick, like a stomach bug has really knocked you down. It was so bad that you weren't able to go to the Miami gp like you wanted. 
Deciding it has been lingering for far too long you decide to go to the doctor. The first thing they ask you is if it's possible if you are pregnant. Your first thought is no, but you remember you and Max had hooked up around two months ago. You feel a pit in your stomach and your heart rate speeds up. You couldn't be right, he wore a condom, and you hadn't had sex for like a year prior to that. 
After you take your pee test, you have never been more scared or felt more alone. You want your mom here. After what felt like an eternity, the doctor came in with a smile and sat down. “Congratulations y/n you are pregnant”. The world came to a stand still and all you can do is cry. 
Because how in the hell are you going to tell your brother you are pregnant with his teammate's baby. How are you going to tell Max that you are pregnant? 
Simple. You won't. 
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uluvjay · 6 months
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Horners daughter “accidentally” flashing max for the 3rd time and he had enough
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Max Verstappen x Horner daughter!
I wrote this as if it takes place before the purity ring blurb!
Warnings?: Cursing, mentions to sex, flashing, slight manipulation?, kissing, I can’t think of anymore
Au masterlist!
The first time it happened max thought it was a genuine accident, your little sister had dropped her iPad right next to you and you had bent over to retrieve it for her; causing the little dress you had on to ride up, just enough for max to catch a glimpse of your lacy thong.
The second time he felt that maybe it wasn’t so much of an accident, the way you had slowly bent down to pick up the fork you dropped and how you flipped your hair over your shoulder had made him overthink your actions.
But by the third time he knew, he knew that none of your flashes had been accidental.
It was after dinner, you and max in the kitchen while the rest of your family gathered outside to start a fire when it happened again.
You had been on one end of the island putting away left overs while he stood on the other end drying the dishes he had just washed when he heard the sound of plastic coming into contact with the wooden floor and a small “Oops”.
And right as the Dutchman looked your way you had bent over way more than needed, and this time he got a full view of your cunt. He cursed to himself at the sight, he’d been on edge since he walked into your father’s house and found you clad in a pretty sundress and this had finally been his last straw.
Setting down the dish he was drying his hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you down the hall and out of sight of your family in the backyard.
“What kind of game are you playing here Schat?” He grumbled, pinning your body to the wall.
“What are you talking about Maxie?” You spoke, looking at him with those doe eyes that he adored.
“You know damn well what I’m talking about Y/n. Are you trying to get us caught? Bending over right in front of me today, flashing that pretty little cunt to me while your dads not to far” he spat.
“I-“
“You what? Huh? Let me guess you didn’t mean to? All three times were accidents?.”
“Yes! I’d never do that on purpose Maxie, don’t want my dad to catch us” you pouted, looking at him like you could truly do no wrong.
“Drop the act, we both know how much of a slut you truly are. How would your father feel if he found out all the things I have you doing when your with me? Huh? You think he’d like to hear how quick his precious daughter gets on her knees when I tell her to?” He taunted.
“No! Max please don’t tell him.” You panicked, you knew he wasn’t bluffing, the dark look in his eyes told you all that you needed to know.
“Then I suggest you cut the bullshit and behave baby, Or I won’t hesitate to go out there right now and show him all those videos.”
“Okay! I’m sorry, please don’t show him. I shouldn’t have flashed you! I’m really sorry Maxie.” You pleaded with the blonde.
“There’s my good girl” he smirked down at you, his hand gripping your jaw to pull you into a hurting kiss.
It was hard and dominating, his lips reminding you of your true place. The way his tongue snuck into your mouth and dominated your own, a small groan escaping his mouth at the taste of the sweet lemonade you had been drinking.
Pulling away he kept his large hand on your jaw in a sharp grip, his other moving to sneak under the skirt of your dress to grab a handful of your ass.
“Gonna be my good girl for the rest of the night right?” He questioned.
“Mhm” you nodded hopelessly, fully under his spell now.
“Good, maybe if you’re really good and can make of for your little games I’ll let you come later.” He smirked, his hand that rested on your ass leaving a sharp pinch before he leaned down to give you one more peck and walked away.
-
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astonmartinii · 8 months
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i don't wanna be funny anymore | daniel ricciardo social media au
pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem podcaster!reader
i don't wanna be funny anymore, i got a too short skirt, maybe i can be the cute one. is there room in the band? i don't need to be the front man, if not then i'll be the biggest fan
based on i don't wanna be funny anymore by lucy dacus (this song speaks to me, i love lucy (she's also AMAZING live))
MASTERLIST | TIPS
yourusername
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liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 341,203 others
yourusername: hey girl hey, new ep coming at you fast this friday all about rotting. as the twilight weather rolls in and it becomes the season of all too well, we'll talk about rotting, how we can do it right and how not to lose your mind this october (a cautionary tale, i've already lost mine)
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user1: my queen hands down five stars already
user2: the bag is so real and the way i know it's a tote that does NOT stay on your shoulder
yourusername: it's the enchante tote, shameless plug for my man
danielricciardo: you singlehandedly sell out my totes every time baby
user3: not this actual fan erasure 🤨
user4: babe be real, she has a massive platform and there was a direct correlation between the first time she plugged a tote and the fact that they sold out that day you guys just love being mean
user5: i'm mean cause i don't want some leech taking credit for dan's hardwork and his fans?
user6: he fucking said it? you guys grasp at straws every time so try and justify your agenda against her
maxverstappen1: idk what rotting is but i'll still listen to every second
yourusername: thanks maxy, though i'd say going on the sim for up to 14 hours of the day is bordering on rotting
maxverstappen1: productive rotting !
yourusername: yes, i guess your sweet little treats are trophies?
maxverstappen1: that would make sense (don't tell my trainer but i do enjoy the little fruity drinks from starbucks)
user7: yall wanna say we're mean but she's literally invalidating max, saying he's rotting on the sim is so invalidating to everything he went through when he was younger
user8: how did we get there? this grasp on straws has to be studied... from a joke about the sim to invalidating abuse?
user9: i honestly thank the lord for dan and max because they're so supportive no matter the shitstorm that yall throw at y/n everyday
user10: literally max is even listening to podcasts... real friends, i hope one day she feels confident enough to come to races
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danielricciardo
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liked by maxverstappen, georgerussell63 and 1,034,239 others
tagged: yourusername, enchante
danielricciardo: buckle up, enchante is going to the rodeo 🐎
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user13: i shall be breaking the bank
user14: dan so smart, he looks like a good boyf for including y/n but didn't include her face
user15: yall ever listen to yourself talk, you need to be put in time out for real
yourusername: we all know the phrase, save a horse, ride a...
danielricciardo: daniel?
yourusername: YUP
user16: ugh there are children who are fans of daniel, she's so gross
user17: do you ever get tired of doing all of that mental gymnastics?
yourusername: can't wait for the tote drop for this collection, yall WON'T be disappointed
user18: yes, i will always trust mother's tote recommendations
user19: anyone who carries that much shit knows what makes a good tote
yourusername: this one has survived two dostoevsky book, an unreasonably large water bottle, a laptop and microphone
user19: thank you ma'am
maxverstappen1: real love is dressing as a cowgirl for your needy boyfriend
yourusername: the things we do for love (i actually had so much fun)
user20: here y/n goes doing all the publicity, but never going to races, clearest gold digger attention whore wag of all time
user21: surely a real attention whore would go to every race to get the screen time and papped and all that jazz?
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excerpt of y/n y/ln's podcast where she addresses her absences in the paddock.
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yourusername
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liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 412,349 others
yourusername: life recently lol, the enchante tote is taking a beating
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user24: she's such a crybaby making dan use up an entire portion of his interview to coddle her
user25: she doesn't come to races cause of people like you invading her privacy and being rude and here you are ... proving her point
danielricciardo: pretty lady i can't wait to be back in your arms
yourusername: waiting outside the airport now
danielricciardo: we haven't even taken off yet babe
yourusername: i know i just miss you and can't wait to see your handsome face
user26: dan must be saying this shit at gun point cause there's no way he actually thinks she's pretty
user27: are you clinically blind? cause we must not be seeing the same girl
maxverstappen1: the aperol rawdogging the bag, you are SO brave
yourusername: living life on the edge, is this that thrill all you drivers talk about?
maxverstappen1: i may drive at over 200 kmh but i'd never risk my tote like that
yourusername: is it worse that i have a jar of olives in there as well, one drop and it's so over for me
maxverstappen1: OLIVES? remind me NOT to hug you when you pick us up
danielricciardo: if you want that hug you gonna have to get in line boy
user28: she picks them up from the airport? that's so cute
user29: someone tell her the gross girl aesthetic isn't cute
user30: babe don't worry no matter the aesthetic you have daniel will never want you x
maxverstappen1
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liked by charles_leclerc, christianhorner and 982,344 others
tagged: yourusername, danielricciardo
maxverstappen1: finally went on my bff's (no 1 in the world) podcast after i finally convinced her yall ain't shit - oh and dan was there for emotional support x
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user31: SO ICONIC
user32: ep on repeat forever, they're so funny
yourusername: for a man who hates podcasts, you were a star i think the memes hit you hard
maxverstappen1: i enjoy the PROFESSIONALS could you imagine doing a podcast with lando
landonorris: why am i catching strays
danielricciardo: i wouldn't say that too loud, i got about 20 texts as soon as you posted this demanding i ask y/n to be on the show
yourusername: oooooooooo the girls are fighting
landonorris: so can i come on?
yourusername: i'm sure we can schedule something
maxverstappen1: don't say i didn't warn you y/n
user33: ugh now she's going to whore around the rest of the grid
user34: for real wasn't dan enough? she's not even pretty enough to whore herself out
user35: you people have no reading comprehension cause you see how dan says yall are insane and yall keep proving him right
danielricciardo: i'm so proud of you pretty girl
yourusername: i love you cowboy
danielricciardo: forever obsessed with you
user36: i'm living for y/n basically telling all these insecure weirdos to fuck off
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yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, christianhorner and 603,451 others
tagged: danielricciardo
yourusername: who was gonna tell me these cars are loud as shit irl
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user39: someone tell sky to stop zooming in on her i don't pay to her her ugly ass
user40: cry your heart out bro everyone else is happy
danielricciardo: oops i think you're my lucky charm you now have to come to every race ever sorry not sorry
yourusername: gosh i think that might be true - i'll be there! (but for real you are so so talented and don't need a lucky charm)
danielricciardo: i'm just so happy to share this with you, i love you so much, i'm sorry people have been so cruel
yourusername: people are passionate about you and rightly so, but i appreciate you protecting me baby
user41: imagine being this irrelevant and demanding protection in the paddock ... the audacity
user42: you finally came to the paddock and this is what you wore?
user43: she's wearing danny merch? if she didn't yall would have a problem with that as well so please just be quiet
maxverstappen1: i need you to come every weekend cause you're the only one drunk danny will listen to
yourusername: we had practice with all the wine tasting we did for his wine line
danielricciardo: i am NOT that bad
maxverstappen1: tbf it's usually him just crying about how much he loves you
yourusername: AWWWWWW (i also cry about how much i love you)
user44: gosh this is my favourite f1 couple
user45: hopefully now she has her dose of fame she'll fuck off
user46: HAVE A DAY OFF
danielricciardo
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liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,451,677 others
tagged: yourusername
danielricciardo: as we're nearing our two year anniversary i wanted to say a couple things. one. i love you so much. when you came into my life i was in a bad place and you truly taught me to love myself again and how to love my sport again. you're the most amazing woman ever, the kindest soul and the most beautiful girl ever. two. i am so thankful for the support i have, i do not allow the disrespect some have given y/n. you guys have no real perception of relationships between athletes and fans. you do not have the right to comment on y/n in the way you are. you take extremely low blow and have the gall to confront her in public as well. do not call yourself a fan of mine when you treat the people i love like this. my team will now begin to monitor comment sections and will seek to block and report accounts doing this. thank you and i love you y/n.
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note: hope yall enjoyed!! i love danny and i saw the danny ric honky tonk this morning and had to write about him. i'd also had this idea for a while but didn't know who to write for lol. please listen to the song i love lucy so much and the song is so relatable xx
also anyone who has requested - i am working on them (but as per some questions in my asks, as for right now i do not write for footballers, if i become less disillusioned with the sport (thanks chelsea) this may change)
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f0point5 · 1 month
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What if I told you I’m back?
This was a request but tumblr ate, you’ll all just have to believe me. Someone asked for a Max POV during the best friend era. So, I decided to go with this one ✨set 16th April 2018✨ the day after the Chinese GP, because I feel like we don’t talk enough about the early friendship.
I hope this finds its way to whoever sent in the ask and that you enjoy it 🫶
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Max almost turns around three times on the way to your building.
The first time, it’s when he realises it’s late, gone ten p.m. on a Monday, you might be asleep. He should go home and come by tomorrow. But you’re a night owl, you won’t be asleep.
The second time, he thinks you won’t be asleep, but you won’t be expecting company. He hasn’t even texted, and he should have, but he left his phone in his jacket which he gave to his concierge to send upstairs with his bags. He should intrude. But he’s not exactly company, he’s seen you in your pyjamas, it’s not like he’s suggesting you go out.
The third time, it’s the absurdity of the situation that gives him pause. He hadn’t even set foot in his building before setting off to yours. After three and a half weeks away one more night shouldn’t be a big deal. Maybe you’ll think he’s a bit strange. But equally, it shouldn’t be a big deal to just see you for a minute, right? If only just to give you your present.
He’s surprised by much he found himself missing you. It’s not like he hasn’t been sued to being away from his friends and family his whole life, it’s not even like you didn’t talk while he was away. You talked a lot. But, he rationalises, he’d got used to having you around during winter break, you’d hardly been apart. You’d even come home to his mum’s with him just before Christmas. Your presence, your perfume, your way never letting him finish a sentence, it was all normal to him now. It wasn’t that he needed it, just that he had had to learn how to be without it, and that had been harder than anticipated. The last time he’d done that he was eight.
It only occurs to him now, as your building comes into view, that you might not feel the same way. You’d said you’d missed him countless times in the last three and a half weeks, but that didn’t signify. After all, he’d said it maybe twice and he here he was, asleep on his feet but at your door because he didn’t want to go home without seeing you.
He should just go home.
“Max?” No turning back now. He turns around to see you, dressed in a pretty blouse and a short skirt, teetering towards him on stiletto heels. “Maxy, Maxy, Maxy,”
You collide with him before he has a chance to laugh at the way you were squealing like a child. He hugs you back, holding you up when you lift your feet off the floor for a second. He’s half expecting you to smell like a distillery, unable and unwilling to comprehend that your reaction is all your own. But all he smells is your perfume, and it feels like Christmas all over again.
“Hey,” he says, lowering you to the ground and finally getting a good look at you. Your hair’s a little shorter, your face is- no, you couldn’t have gotten prettier. You’re a bit more tanned.
“I thought you were still in China,” you say, squeezing his shoulders. “You look so hungry, have you lost weight?”
“I just got back,” he says with a shrug. You’re almost his height in your heels, he notices for no discernible reason.
You take in his no doubt plane-rumpled appearance. “Did you come straight here?”
“Uh,” he clears his throat. He’s not going to admit that when you’re giving him a warranted look of confusion, but he doesn’t want to lie either. “I brought you a present.” He holds up the package, wrapped poorly on the flight home. Even the flight attendant had given him a sympathetic look as she watched him struggle.
“Aw, thanks,” you say, pressing your key fob against the censor and pulling open the door before Max can get to it. “Come up,”
“Are you sure?”
You give him an incredulous look, lit up by the golden glow of your lobby lights. “Of course,”
You tell him about the dinner you were just getting back from when he arrived, all the way up to your flat. Some people would find it odd or even rude that Max has been a continent away, racing the fastest cars on the planet in front of millions of people, and yet you’re perfectly at ease taking time to talk about your overly creamy pasta. Max likes it, relishes it, even. You’ve never seen him or his job as anything special. He went to work, you went to dinner. It’s normal. Just friends catching up.
You let him into your flat, heading straight for the kitchen, and Max takes the same seat at the breakfast island that he always does. He idly wonders if anyone else has sat in it since he’s been away.
“But then it’s not exactly Naples, you what can you expect. Sometimes I think the French sabotage Italian food on purpose,” you say, filling a wine glass with water from your fridge dispenser. “Great race, by the way. Glad my voodoo worked,”
Max scoffs. “So, you didn’t watch it,” he shakes his head as if that will help the memories fade quicker.
“I did. Got up at the crack of dawn and everything. And I cursed your car not to win,“ you say with a mischievous grin, pulling out a can of red bull from the fridge.
Max frowns. “What the fuck?”
“You can’t win when I’m not there to see it,” you declare, handing him the Red Bull. He reaches to take it, but you don’t let go until he looks at you. “I’d have been devastated,”
For the first time in his life, Max is actually half glad he didn’t win a race.
He chuckles, opening the can with one hand while sliding the gift along the counter towards you with the other.
“Well, I want to win,” he says, as you start picking at the copious amount of sellotape. “So you’ll just have to come to all the races,”
He’s surprised how much he means that.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Maxy. Oh my God, you can’t wrap for shit,” you say, finally managing to pull apart first Max’s wrapping, and then the box containing the, “Chopsticks?”
“Very fancy chopsticks,” Max explains. He points to the set of dark wood chopsticks you’re holding, gesturing to the intricate gold figures entwined on the top. “See, one set has dragons and one set has a phoenix? They’re famous in Chinese mythology. The guy said to give It to someone you like, they’re supposed to bring luck. Or something. I didn’t really understand his English,”
You stare at them for a while, a sort of bewildered smile on your face, and Max almost slaps himself. He should have just bought you a handbag. They had a Chanel in China. Why didn’t he just listen to his dad? This sentimental shit is weird and embarrassing and he should have just gone home.
“So,” you say, using the chopsticks to point at Max accusingly as you smirk at him. “You like me now? Who would have thought? After all those years of telling everyone how annoying I was, you like enough to want me to have good luck,”
“You-“ Max fights the urge to argue.
That smug look on your face still triggers him something awful. But behind it is someone who has become important to him. It’s not just that you know things about him that even he’s forgotten, it’s that he doesn’t want there ever be anything you don’t know about him. You him laugh, and he never wants to see you cry, and he’s used to being reviled and admired, and even liked, but you’re the only person who’s ever made him feel this understood.
“You’re my best friend,”
Once, he might have been embarrassed that you don’t say it back, but just like you know him, he knows you now, too. You grin at him, sipping your water as you look at him over the rim of your glass.
“Well, despite the fact that this whole chopstick story sounds like the beginning of an Indiana Jones movie, they’re beautiful, and I love them, and I promise I will only ever use them to eat Chinese food with you,” you say, putting the chopsticks back in their box. “And I’m glad you’re home.”
Max doesn’t say anything, fiddling with the can again, and you sigh.
“When are you leaving again?”
“Um,” he hesitates, like if he doesn’t say it then it won’t happen. He gives up and gives you an apologetic smile. “Thursday. Going to the UK for some work and then straight to Baku,”
“Oh,” your face, falls, and you toy with the stem of your glass, only for a few seconds, before you shrug. “Well, we should have dinner before you go, and then-“
“Do you-“ He cuts himself off, because he knows he should think about this more, but then you’re looking at him and he’s done thinking. “Do you want to come?”
“To the UK?”
“Yeah,” Max mumbles, looking down at his Red Bull as his fingers fiddle with the tab. “And to Baku,” he glances up to see your reaction, “and, I mean, anywhere,” he adds a shrug, because, obviously, the invitation is totally casual.
You shrug back. “Okay,”
He can hear his dad already, complaining about how you’re a distraction, you bring cameras and drama, how Max gives you too much of his attention on race weekends. But there’s worse things than Jos’s moaning, like not seeing you for another two weeks.
He barely has time to think about that before a Chinese takeout menu slides into his vision. He looks up at you, confused. “Didn’t you eat?”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t look like you have in about a week. You are starting to get Cillian Murphy cheekbones,” you grimace. Max has no idea who that is but based on your face he doesn’t want to look like him. “And besides, I want to test out these magic chopsticks,”
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magewritesstories · 1 year
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James Potter // I Love You
summary: The three times James Potter tells you he loves you, and the one time you say it back. TW: mentions of fighting, James being James and not taking no for an answer (not completely creepy though), and alcohol consumption note: I love this man, and this aesthetic
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The red and orange leaves crunched under your feet. It was the first week back at Hogwarts, and also your first Care Of Magical Creatures class.
 The schoolyards smelled like rain after a long dry season, and it was just warm enough for you to dress in a comfortable white cardigan— made of wool because it’s still winter in England— and your white maxi skirt which had a pink flower print.
You closed your eyes, taking in the peace and quiet. It was 8:45 in the morning, and most classes didn’t start until 9:30, so there was barely another student in sight.
“Hey!”
You instinctively rolled your eyes at the sound of the voice behind you. You pivoted, fully-facing James, and you gave him a tight-lipped smile, “Hello, James.”
The brunet grinned at you, “Hey, [Y/N], so, have you made up your mind yet?” he asked, sheepishly rubbing his neck.
You raise an eyebrow at the question, “I thought I was pretty obvious last night James, remember when you decided to declare your love for me during dinner?” the 13-year-old shrugged, “Well, I just thought you were a bit vague is all.”
“ “When pigs fly” is vague?” You asked incredulously, but before he could reply, “Well, let me be more clear: I, [Y/N] [Y/L/N], will never go out with you.” The boy laughed, “Never say never, darling.” You rolled your eyes, turning back, “Whatever, Potter.”
“But I love you!?”
“Too bad!”
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You sighed twirling your pink pen in your hands. Spring of ‘74 had decided to be unbelievably nice. There was a cool breeze ruffling through your hair, as you sat under a large willow tree trying to finish your arithmetics notes.
All your friends still had classes— since they all had a different schedule than you— which meant you were sitting alone, wracking your brain and regretting your decision of picking this over divination
At least Trelawny gave out sympathy P’s...
“[Y/N], my darling, treasure of my heart, how are you on this fine day?” James asked, loudly announcing his presence. You sighed, letting your head fall. Great, first Professor Fahey was giving you a hard time and now this guy.
“Amazing, until you came along.”
James let himself fall down onto the blanket, hand over his heart, “You wound me, my love,” He sighed, dramatically, “Why do you hurt me, when all I do is love you?”
“Leave me alone, James.”
“Never, [Y/N].”
You buried your face in the pages of Arithmetics For Dummies, half out of annoyance, and half as an attempt to hide your blush. But apparently, your ears liked James more than you, and they betrayed.
“Oh. My. Merlin!” James exclaimed, practically jumping up, he softly pulled the book away from your face. He leaned in to get a better look at your face. The two of you were now nose to nose. 
His lips looked so soft, and kissable, maybe—
“I actually made you blush!” He said happily. Welp, there goes that thought. You quickly turned your head. You grabbed your bag, as well as the books and notebooks scattered across the blanket, before standing up and walking away.
“Oh come on, [Y/N] don’t be shy, it’s okay, you like me!”
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A cold breeze ran through your sheer navy blue top. It was nearly midnight, and the stars were out on full display. You sighed, looking at the seemingly never-ending shining specks of light.
“Hey, you enjoying yourself?”
You almost didn’t recognize the voice, because of the softness. James sat down next to you, dangling his legs down the pier. You buried your face in your arms, which were wrapped around the knees and pressed against your chest.
“What do you want James?”
“Nothing, you just looked like you could use the company.”
“Why are you so persistent, James?” You asked, turning your head towards the Gryffindor prefect. He shrugged, looking up at the sky “I thought it was obvious— especially after I’ve said it a million times— I love you, [Y/N], I think you’re amazing and cool and way too smart for your own good, and I would be very lucky to date you.”
You couldn’t help but giggle at his cheesiness. He turned his head towards you, offering you a small smile in return. You leaned in, pressing a small kiss to his cheek.
“So take me out on a date.”
“What?”
“You, me, Honeydukes next weekend.”
James stared at you like a deer in headlights. “Really?” He asked, trying to fight the grin forming on his face. You nodded shyly, hoping that the redness of your cheeks wasn’t visible against the stark darkness of the night.
Once it was completely processed, James tackled you onto the ground in a bear hug. “Yes, yes, yes!” He shouted, “I promise you won’t regret it!”
You laughed at the elated expression on his face.
“I’m sure I won’t, Jamie.”
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The room was an absolute mess. There were posters all over the wall next to them, and there was a cabinet above his desk filled to the brim with trophies. Three walls were painted a crème-coloured white, with the accent wall a muted red.
You sat on the bed, back pressed against James’s chest, snuggled up under a blanket, despite it being 20 degrees out. You squirmed a little as James attacked your neck and jaw with loving kisses.
You let out a laugh, something that James always argued sounded like angels singing, trying to get out from under his grip. But he just tightened his arms around your waist.
“James— James, let go,” you managed to say in between laughs as he started to tickle you.
“Never, [Y/N],”
After a few minutes, he stopped, letting you catch your breath. By now you’d fully turned towards him. The book you’d been reading long forgotten on his bed. James pulled you closer, placing a kiss on your lips, and then another one.
“James, stop it, you’re mom’s gonna walk in!” You chastised, although you kept complying every time he leaned in for another. He shrugged it off, “Nah, my mom won’t come in,” before you could add to the concern, he added, “And neither will Sirius unless he wants to be traumatised.”
You rolled your eyes that the exaggeration before placing a chaste kiss on his lips. You smiled, looking into the brown eyes that had slowly but surely become a comfort for you over the past year.
You’d fallen in love with James Potter.
You could practically hear the younger version of you let out an offended gasp, with bright red cheeks, of course.
But there was nothing you could do about it now, except for tell him and hope he felt the same.
“I love you,” you said shyly, trying to avoid looking into his eyes. You felt his grip on your waist loosen just a little. His face fell into an expression of shock, before splitting into a grin. “What did you say?” He asked teasingly. You rolled your eyes, face still burning, “You heard me.” James grinned, “I’ve waited three years to hear that.” You rolled your eyes,placing a kiss on his lips.
“I love you, James Potter.”
“I love you, [Y/N] [Y/L/N].”
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tvgals · 1 year
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⛤ MHA BOYS AND THEIR EARTHY GF !
ft.- kirishima, bakugo, deku, rody (i will never get over him), and todoroki <3
cw- black reader! fem bodied! reader - enjoy <3
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⛤ KIRISHIMA EIJIROU
ejirou looks at you in awe. how can someone look so…beautiful? you can only giggle. “baby, whatcha lookin’ at?” you ask, smiling. “just the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen..” he coos, watching you put in your bamboo hoop earrings, your bracelets clacking with each movement..
“you’re so mushy, eiji’.” you chuckle, standing up from your desk to look for a slate green headscarf you’d previously thrown somewhere. “how can i not be when i have the most perfect girl in the world?” he gushes, a toothy grin in his face, hand on his cheek, pushing the top of it to his eyes. you grab your scarf off of the floor and you take the xl hairtie from around your wrist and pull your soft locs into a ponytail, then you wrap the scarf around, the knot in the front. “you’re like magic. all the stuff you’re able to do is incredible..”
⛤ KATSUKI BAKUGO
“orange. wear orange today please.” katsuki mutters from your bed. you’re currently walking all over the room, your incense in hand. “why orange kats?” you inquire, stubbing out in incense into your brown ashtray. “because..ya’ look good in orange.”
“maybe i will. might even wear the stack of necklaces you bought me the other day.” you reply, stacking your rings atop of one another before plopping in the bed next to katsuki. “don’t mess up y’ makeup…looks really nice today.” the blonde says, a sparkling being oh so faint in his pretty crimson eyes. “thank you babe.” you grin — leaning over to kiss his cheek.
⛤ RODY SOUL
“hi princess, whatcha doin?” rody drawls, walking into your poster filled room. “my makeup. what’s up?” you look up at him, big doe eyes filled with love.
“went to the thrift today. i know how you said it was better than shopping online and stuff. so i went there.” he says, holding out a bag that’s almost half the size of him.. “really? you didn’t have to get all of this! how much did it cost?” you almost immediately drop your lip liner when you see the bag filled with maxi skirts and tote bags and crop tops. “just $48 and some change. can’t wait for you to try it on sweets.”
⛤ IZUKU MIDORYIA
“love? where’re you?” your emerald haired boyfriend shouts from the living room. for a second, he sits in silence, the faint noise of afro beats hitting his ears. you must be reading. izuku kicks his shoes off and walks into you two’s shared bedroom to see you — stomach on the bed with your legs up, mumbling under your breath. “hey.” izuku greets, closing the door behind him.
“oh, hey baby! my bad i couldn’t hear you.” you giggle, pulling izuku onto the bed with you. “you look really pretty from this angle..” izuku admires.
⛤ SHOTO TOODOROKI
“honey, did you see what i posted?” todoroki questions, you know he doesn’t post often, only liking videos and pictures you post and sometimes going live. “what was it baby?” you ask, opening your phone and pressing the instagram icon. you can see the rainbow ring around todorokies profile picture consisting of you and him, you press it and can see the video he posted.
“guys, look at how pretty my girlfriend is. she’s so good at doing makeup.” todoroki admires, practically shoving the phone in your face. “her room is very nice. she says all the crystals and chakras and stuff help us or whatever.”
you smile, hugging todoroki. “i love you sho’” “love you more.”
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yin-shimo · 6 months
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RATING CC SO YOU DON'T HAVE TO
KLUBB "'Nepo Baby' Collection" ed.
RATE LIST:
poly count
mesh visuals
weights
UV texture
universability
1. POLY COUNT
Today's collection comes with 7 CAS meshes (a total of 11 including 2 BB objects that I won't cover) . Get ready lmao,
Boots with Legwarmers: 109,802
Flannel Shirt: 36,504
Nails: 21,120
Necklaces: 19,300
Rings Left: 17,664
Rings Right: 17,664
Skirt: 64,227
Sunglasses: 8478
Tank Top: 42,238
How does this compare to Maxis clothes?
Alright, for the boots with legwarmers, the highest poly count i saw for boots was 1,478. If we round up 109.8k to 110k and use the average of 900 for maxis boots we have a ratio of 110: 1.
Flannel Shirt: I'll be using yesterday's top reference (of 4.2k) and rounding the shirt to 37k. This gives us a ratio of 185: 21 or 8.81~: 1 if you want smaller numbers.
Nails: the highest was 1040, so if we round 21.1k to 21.2k and the nails to 1.0k, we get a ratio of 106: 5
Necklaces: highest I saw was 3688 (no scarf or chokers included) so well round that to 3.7k and keep the other at 19.3k giving us a ratio of 193: 37 or 5.22~: 1 if you want smaller numbers.
Rings: we'll round them to 17.7k and the highest maxis ones I found were 364 (we'll round to 360). This gives us a ratio of 295: 6 or 49.1˙66: 1 in smaller numbers.
Skirt: We will round down to 64k and the highest (short) skirt I found was 1674 which we'll round down to 1600 giving us a ratio of 40: 1.
Sunglasses: we'll round it to 8.4k the maxis sunglasses that look closest to it are 804 (so we round to 800). This will give us a ratio of 21: 2 or 10.5: 1.
Tank: lets round to 42.2k. Most similar maxis tank was 3.2k. This is a ratio of 211: 16 or 13.2~: 1 for smaller numbers
Rating: 0/10 [honestly can I give it a negative 5?]
2. MESH VISUALS
Covers questions like "Does this CC look as it does in its AD?" and "Is there any clipping?"
Problems 1 & 2:
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surprisingly, the clipping issues were minor, for problem two maybe weight tweak needed and the first lower poly would suffice as the lovely @saruin informed me could happen with high poly clothes.
Next... is the textures themselves.
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(klubb to the left | AxA to the right) Need I say more? the texture is abysmal.
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(klubb left | saruin right) Yeah, nails are small but theres better detailed ones for waaay less poly. The only reason i won't complain too hard is because nails lack an actual UV spot.
Lastly, (no pics) the tank top itself I actually enjoy texture wise. Same for the necklace and shoes, but the skirt and flannel top are definitely not the greatest. The colors themselves are relatively pleasant to the eyes.
Rating: 6/10
3. WEIGHTS
Again, this pretty much overlaps with the previous section (maybe ill merge them lmao) and aside from the flannel shirt already addressed the rest of the cc didn't have any issues.
Rating: 9/10
4. UV TEXTURE (mapping)
This section is meant to answer the question,
"Will any conflict with other parts such as shoes, hats, etc?"
No conflict: flannel shirt, tank top, glasses, rings (you just cant use others from the same hand).
Minor conflict: shoes may conflict with certain bottoms, skirt may conflict with certain tops, necklace may conflict with nose rings, and whatever biceps cover lmao.
Major conflicts: nails, high chance of conflicting with tops.
Rating: 4/10
reason: it's annoying af to know their OWN skirt and shoes somewhat overlap each other and would have easily avoided it if they simply moved the textures a little lower/higher into their proper sections.
5. UNIVERSABILITY
This section covers questions like:
"Does this work for large muscular and/or fat sims?" "Does it work if my sims are the lowest body mass?"
The necklace does not properly morph with max fat/muscle, but the tank, shoes, skirt, flannel do.
BUT i have come to realize there are bigger weight issues at the armpit area of the flannel upon checking the outfits on multiple sims. Ying's stupid ass hair blocked some of the clipping lmao. So weights is now 5/10 instead of 9/10
Rating: 8/10
and lastly:
Questionnaire:
Would you recommend to a friend: NO. Would you use this item yourself: Maybe if the poly count was lower. Paywall Status: PERMA-PAYWALLED. Additional Info: $5 USD for current month (collections not included [??]), $10 collections + 2months prior, $25 access to lifetime cc. Additional Info #2: They have a free sample of the tank top...(yay more SL behavior [sarcasm])
OVERALL RATING: 10%
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chaifootsteps · 2 months
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Honestly, I find it pretty disturbing how Viv just stopped growing. I'm pretty sure if you look at many others from when they were 14 to 30 they don't look the same. By that, I mean they don't wear the same hair styles, wardrobe, and so many other things. Granted, I knew many weebs in middle school who bragged about the "sailor moon skirts" they wore, but now at most they wear maxi skirts and maybe some skater skirts. I know for a fact they still like sailor moon too, just they didn't retain their middle school mentality.
This isn't a jab at her likes, it's just the fact the tantrums she throws and how as an adult how can you say "hehehehe I like South Park because they all have potty mouths".
And style-wise, no big deal, wear all the kitty-cat headphones and scene clothes you want. More power to you. But her method of dealing with conflict and criticism never progressed a day past that angry kid from Deviantart, and that's pretty spooky.
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withacapitalp · 1 year
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Trust Me
Read it on AO3 instead here. Special thanks to @riality-check for betaing for me!!! I love me some genderfluid Steve Harrington, and writing this was so much fun!! TW: internalized homophobia, internalized transphobia, and a couple f slurs
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It started with the long navy skirt that Carol’s mother got her for her thirteenth birthday. 
Well, maybe it started a lot earlier. Maybe it started with Steve being both Tommy and Carol’s first kiss, or maybe it started with Steve always wanting to play house, or maybe it never really ‘started’ in the first place. Maybe this was just always who he was. 
But Carol thinks it really started with that long navy skirt. 
It wasn’t really Carol’s style. It was floor length and just a bit too long. When she tried it on, the bottom pooled around her on the floor like a rushing river. Her mom promised to get it tailored and told her to hang it up in her closet. 
Carol, in a hurry to get dressed before Steve and Tommy, left it on her desk instead. 
Her thirteenth birthday was perfect. Just her and her boys doing whatever she wanted. They went to Enzo’s for a fancy Italian dinner, watched a romance movie that Tommy pretended to hate, and got two scoops of cotton candy ice cream afterward to split. Her parents even let the boys sleep over in her bedroom as long as they all promised that Tommy and Steve were going to stay on the floor. 
They broke that promise pretty much the second the door was shut, but what her mom and dad didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. 
Carol fell asleep squished between her two favorite people, snuggled in warm and safe. 
She woke up half cold. 
Tommy was still curled up on her left side, snoring and dead to the world, but her right side was chilly, and when she spread her fingers out searching, only the blankets greeted her. 
Steve wasn’t there. 
Carol cracked one eye open, looking past the empty bed and towards the clock on her bedside table. 3:48 am. 
Way too early to be awake, even for an early bird like their Stevie. If it was Tommy, she would’ve just rolled over and went back to bed, assuming he was just getting up to pee or something. That was probably what Steve was doing. Carol didn’t need to worry. 
But…but it was Steve, and Steve had a tendency to get himself into trouble. The little voice in the back of Carol’s head that sounded like her mother was nagging at her, telling her to check on him, telling her to make sure, just make sure. 
So, with a heaving sigh, Carol untangled herself from Tommy’s octopus grip and pushed herself out of bed, shivering slightly when her bare feet touched the freezing cold floor. She scurried over to where her slippers were, jamming them on and walking out the door yawning. 
She was too busy rubbing at her sleep filled eyes to notice the skirt that had been on her desk was missing. 
Light spilled into the hallway from down the stairs, directing Carol to where she would find her missing boy. She decided to slide down the banister to avoid the creaky steps, smothering a giggle and keeping quiet. Steve was probably just getting a midnight snack and watching one of her VHS tapes. Maybe she would join him, and they could watch Robin Hood or Mary Poppins and fall asleep on the couch together like they did sometimes. 
But when Carol finally peeked into the living room, she stopped short.
Steve wasn’t sitting on the couch munching on chips or drinking a soda, and the television was dark. He wasn’t sitting at all, actually. Stevie was standing by the big accent mirror her mother put in the corner of the room, looking at his reflection as he idly twirled back and forth. 
That wasn’t the part that made Carol freeze in place. 
She froze because he was wearing her new skirt. 
It looked like it fit him wonderfully, actually. Steve had shot up like a weed last year, growing practically a foot in height, so the maxi length reached almost exactly halfway down his calves. His waist, which had always been tiny, looked positively perfect. If it was another girl trying it on, Carol would already be gushing about how cute it was. 
But it wasn’t another girl.
It was Steve. 
Her Steve. One of her boys. One of her boys was wearing a skirt, and it was a definitive fact that boys did not wear skirts. She would’ve figured it was just a joke, something stupid to make her and Tommy laugh, but then why would Steve do this in the middle of the night when they wouldn’t be awake to tease him? Why would he come downstairs when everyone else was asleep?
Why did Steve look like he was about to cry? 
Any thoughts Carol had about poking fun at him disappeared. Steve never cried. Never ever. She hadn’t even seen him cry when he broke his wrist falling out of the tree in his backyard. The only time she had ever seen Steve cry was the first time his parents had missed one of his basketball games, and she hadn’t even ‘seen’ that, just heard it through his locked bedroom door. 
(She didn’t like to remember that day. He had been crying so loudly it carried through his whole house. Carol guessed Steve never learned how to do that quietly, considering there was no need. His parents weren’t there.)
Sure, they liked to mess with each other, and Carol was never afraid of saying something that other people might be too sensitive about because she knew Steve could take it, but something about this just felt…different. 
“Stevie?” Carol called, stepping into the room. He immediately stiffened up, the soft slope of his shoulders growing rigid with fear. Steve looked at her from the reflection of the mirror, not turning to face her properly. 
He looked completely terrified, and that just wouldn’t do. She didn’t know what to say or think about a boy wearing a skirt, but she did know how to deal with Steve. 
“It looks pretty,” Carol said with false lightness, walking into the room and standing behind Steve in the mirror. She tried to catch his eye and give him one of her sweetest smiles, but it fell when Steve avoided her gaze. 
“It doesn’t,” Steve muttered, curling in on himself and grabbing at the hem of the old t-shirt he was wearing as pajamas, “I look silly.” 
“I think it’s pretty,” she argued back.
Yes, he did look kind of silly, but she couldn’t stand seeing him make himself small like that. Steve did that whenever he was talking to his mom and dad, he would hide himself away and try to take up less space, but he never did that with her and Tommy. Carol wasn’t going to let him start now. Not because of this. 
“It is really pretty, Stevie,” Carol added on, reaching out to put her hand on his shoulder, “The cut is nice, and it makes your waist look so small. I wish mine looked like that! Plus the color compliments your-”
“I look ridiculous, Carrie,” Steve interrupted harshly, jerking away from her before she could touch him and squeezing his eyes shut tight, “Like a fag, a sick freak.” 
Carol left her hand hovering in the air, her stomach disappearing. Those weren’t Steve’s words. Steve would never say something that mean. 
Carol knew she could be mean sometimes, and she knew Tommy could be even meaner other times, but that was only to people who deserved it. Steve was never mean, even to people who deserved it. He was a total sweetheart, soft and gentle, and he needed her and Tommy to protect those soft gentle parts of him.
The parts that would hurt if he heard things like that. The parts that would hold onto words like those, waiting for the perfect moment to turn them inward and hurt himself. 
He had gotten those words from somewhere, and Carol was pretty sure she knew where. But no matter who had said them or about what, she knew she needed to make them go away. 
Somehow. 
“Well, it does look a little weird,” Carol started, quickly continuing when she saw Steve’s lip starting to wobble, “But not because it’s you wearing it! Just… that skirt really doesn’t work with your PJs. Wait, wait right here, I have an idea. Trust me.” 
She scampered up the stairs, practically flying into her room and rooting around in her closet, throwing things left and right. When she found what she was looking for she gasped in delight, a sound that was just loud enough to make Tommy snuffle slightly away. 
“Go back to sleep,” Carol said in a soft sing-song voice, pausing briefly in her mission to skip over and press a quick kiss to Tommy’s cheek. 
She loved Tommy, and she knew Steve loved Tommy, and she knew that Tommy loved both of them, but this still didn’t feel like something that they needed to share with him. At least, not just yet. 
Luckily, Tommy hummed happily and turned over, going back to his snoring. She chuckled quietly to herself and began to walk out, grabbing the big jewelry box from the top of her dresser as an afterthought. 
Steve was still standing exactly where she had left him, looking out of place and uncomfortable in his body. The words ‘sick freak’ were still burning in her chest, and she could see them written on his features. 
The other word was there too, but Carol couldn’t think about that word. She used it, and Tommy used it, but never for real. Steve had said it for real, stamping himself with a label that didn’t fit right. 
Yeah, he and Tommy had kissed a couple times, but Steve had also kissed her a few times, and she kissed Tommy all the time. It was just something they had as friends, practice for when they got real boyfriends and girlfriends. That didn’t make them fags. That just…it made her boys her boys. That was all. 
No matter what, Steve wasn’t a freak, and he definitely wasn’t sick. He was the coolest boy in school, her very best friend. He was soft and gentle where she and Tommy were hard and biting, and the three of them worked perfectly. Everyone looked up to them, everyone wanted to be them. Anything he wanted to do was right.
So if Steve wanted to wear something pretty, then Carol was going to make sure it was absolutely perfect. 
“Here,” Carol said, handing over the sweater she had been looking for. 
It was cashmere, soft and buttery to the touch, with a cream and dark blue striped pattern. Her uncle had gotten it for her in Paris, but he always got things way too big. It was ‘so she could grow into it’, but Carol really hoped she would never grow into an extra extra large. 
Steve took the sweater from here, but didn’t move to put it on. He just held it, rubbing his thumb along the fabric and staring down at it with a strange longing. 
“Go on. It’ll match way better,” Carol urged, nudging his shoulder with her own and stepping back. He stayed still. 
“Trust me,” Carol repeated, keeping her face open and honest. 
Steve tossed her an unsure look but did as he was told, hesitantly pulling his t-shirt off and slipping into the sweater. Without the pajamas clashing, the skirt looked even better, and Steve was even starting to cautiously admire his reflection again. 
“Now let’s tuck it in,” Carol said, pushing away any lingering confusion and moving straight into business mode. She didn't have to think about whether it was right for Steve to want to wear a skirt, she just had to make sure that it looked good. 
She pulled Steve so he was back directly in front of the mirror, standing behind him and reaching around. She tucked the bottom of the sweater into his skirt, fussing for a second to make sure it wasn’t bunched up anywhere and smoothing down the creases where his broad shoulders didn’t quite match up to the way the sweater was cut. 
“Give me a twirl,” Carol ordered, spinning her finger the way her mother always did when she had Carol try on something new. 
“Twirl?” Steve questioned, standing awkwardly. 
Carol nodded eagerly, sitting on the coffee table and putting her jewelry box down next to her. She never really liked it when her mom made her do this, but it was enjoyable to watch someone else. Carol had always wanted a sister to play dress up with, and while this wasn’t exactly the same, it was still pretty fun. 
Now that she was getting into it, it didn’t really seem all that strange to her, and the longer she looked at Steve in her clothes, the more normal it all seemed. It was just dress up, just something fun to do with her very best friend. Didn’t best friends try on each other’s clothes all the time? Tommy and Steve practically shared one wardrobe. 
This wasn’t that weird. Just dress up. 
Steve continued to just stand there for a minute before taking a deep breath and spinning in the smallest fastest circle she had ever seen. His face was beet red and he was staring down at his feet, but Carol could see the smile starting to grow on his face. 
She made another teasing circle with her finger and Steve twirled around for her again, bigger this time. She giggled, and he answered with his own quiet laugh. The air in the room was growing bright and warm and Carol hopped up from her spot, grabbing Steve’s hand and tugging him over to the couch. 
“Time for accessories,” She declared, dragging her box over and opening it. It was stuffed to the bursting with tons of different bits and baubles, and Carol began to root through it, picking out a few things she thought would match. 
“Do I need these?” Steve wondered aloud, looking wide eyed at all the different options. 
“Accessories make an outfit, Stevie,” Carol said, parroting the words her mother always said to her. 
She put a bunch of her silver bangles around one of his wrists, and her favorite blue and white polka dot scrunchie around the other. None of her rings would fit Steve’s fingers, and his hair was too short for his hair was too short for any of her ribbons or to make a braid, but she did find a few star and moon barrettes to clip in that looked nice. 
Carol pulled back to look at the whole outfit, tapping her lip with the tip of her finger. There was still something missing, something not quite right. 
“Oh!” Carol said, realizing what was wrong. She reached up behind her own head, undoing the clasp and reaching up to put it around Steve’s neck instead. 
“Wait, what are you-”
“Trust me,” Carol crooned, continuing to put the necklace around Steve’s neck. When the clasp was locked in place, she fixed the chain, arranging it exactly as she wanted. 
“There, that’s better,” She said with a satisfied smile. 
The locket was gold, which didn’t exactly match what she was trying to do with his ensemble, but it was the thing that was missing. Steve and Tommy had gotten it for her for her tenth birthday, and both of their pictures were inside, along with one of her baby teeth.  
It was cheap, and her mother didn’t like it very much, but they had saved all of their pocket money to get it for her, and it was Carol’s prized possession. She never let anyone else touch it, and the only time she took it off was to take a bath or grab a shower. 
She could feel its absence now, the lack of weight that was usually there on her neck, but the sensation didn’t fill her with the usual anxiety it caused. She knew it was in safe hands. 
Out of the three of them, Steve was always the gentlest.
Steve looked lost again, reaching up to touch the locket in silent wonder. The bracelets around his wrist jangled against each other, and he almost startled at the sound, unused to wearing any jewelry. She snickered, opening up one of the other drawers in her box. 
“Do you want some makeup?” Carol whispered conspiratorially, pulling out her secret eyeshadow and mascara, “My mom doesn’t know I have these, but I swiped them from the department store a couple months ago,”
Steve quickly shook his head, staying uncharacteristically silent. Carol could tell he wanted to say yes, and she really wanted to try and see if she could do a better job on him than she did on herself when she tried to put it on, but she held back. Steve was brand new to pretty clothes, and doing too much at once would probably be overwhelming. 
He already looked pretty shocked as it was. 
“Okay. Now let’s look properly,” Carol said, clapping her hands and pulling them both out of their thoughts. 
She held out her hand and Steve took it, interlocking their fingers. Carol passively thought about different nail polish colors she could try on Steve as she walked them both towards the mirror. He probably wouldn’t like pink, but maybe baby blue? Or white with little stickers. That could look nice. 
Or maybe this was a one time thing. Maybe Steve would look at his reflection and totally hate it and never want to try again. 
That’s what Carol should want, right? It wasn’t normal for boys to want to put on pretty clothes, and it would be better if Steve decided he didn’t like it. 
So why was she so hopeful that Steve would like how he looked as much as she did? 
“How do you feel?” Carol asked as they reached the mirror, looking anxiously at their reflections. 
Steve looked like himself still, but changed, evolved. It was like those soft parts of him- the gentle ones he kept hidden just for Tommy and Carol- were finally on full display, and the result was gorgeous.  
The lean muscles that were starting to develop on Steve’s arms from swimming practice were hidden under cashmere stripes, and the barely there baby fat that was starting to fade made her want to squeeze his cheeks. He had a sweet smile on his face and he kept glancing shyly from the mirror down to his hands and back up to the mirror. It was like he was scared to see himself, but couldn’t look away. 
“Pretty,” He whispered, his voice filled with awe, making Carol’s chest brim with light, “I feel pretty.” 
“No,” She whispered back, leaning her head against his upper arm and beaming, “Trust me. You’re beautiful.” 
“Beautiful,” He repeated, holding the word reverently on his tongue. Carol stood on her tip toes and kissed Steve’s cheek, wrapping her arms around his bicep and going back to looking at their reflections. 
Carol’s mom never ended up getting that navy skirt tailored, because she never saw it again. When she asked her daughter, Carol played dumb, telling her it was in the laundry or missing somewhere in the house. 
Her mother never found out that the skirt and the sweater that had never fit Carol now lived in the back of Steve Harrington’s closet, hidden inside a fabric bag behind a box of old baby clothes. 
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heartfullofleeches · 1 year
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Thxxx! To the anon that asked about Erin wearing a skirt! because what if he found out his darling has a thing for tough guys in skirts!💖 I don’t know what type he buys tho? Like a long black maxi skirt? A cute one (that’s your favorite color) with ruffles and bows? Or a super short skirt (of any one you want) that barely manages to hide all that BADONKADONK 💖💖
Also maybe some nsfw if your up for it!
Erin getting sucked off while on top of a counter? (Or anywhere else if you prefer) you making him hold his skirt up as you stare at him while sucking him off. Legs on you shoulders and hands on his thighs! Just incase he tries to close them! 💖
Pegging Erin in the skirt (obviously) it allows you to easily give his ass a good smack and keeps him looking cute. Does he (fake) complain? Yes. But once you start praising (or degrading) him, how cute he looks all dolled up, only pretty sluts get fucked, and how would everyone that he bullies react if they found out their tormentor likes to wear cute skirts and get fucked like a cheap whore. He can’t help how much he loves it!
Thank you for reading my ask btw! Hope you like it!
(So I saw this ask after yesterday's post, but I felt that this would be a good continuation)
Erin runs three yellow lights on his drive to your place. He's already half way there before you send him your address. He knew your address due to the harmless act of following you home on weekends and when he wasn't hanging out with his click. At stops he's unable to past he adds a second coat of lip gloss and draws under his eyes with the eye shadow he picked up from a drug store on the way. His heels clack loudly against concrete as he marches to your door. It opens right as he raises his fist to knock.
Erin quickly brushes his hair over his shoulder. "Hi."
"Hey. Heard you coming."
"Yeah... Just got a little excited to see you is all..." Erin trails off. Fuck, was that too far? He was desperate for you, but he didn't want you to know he was. That, amongst other things would probably scare you off. Was he trying too hard? Too little? God, he just wanted you to kiss him already.
"So what are we going to-"
Grabbing Erin by his collar, you drag him into a kiss and your home as you slam the door behind him. The pressure on his neck makes his vision fuzzy, but he parts his lips as your teeth and tongue abuse the soft flesh. He feels your hands going up his skirt as the muscle violates the back of his throat; palming him through the panties he wore. You pull back, lifting his skirt to see the lace fabric in your grasp; the tip of his cock peaking from it band.
Erin forces a shakey smile. "Like what you see?"
"Thought I was jumping the gun at first, but you were hoping this would happen, weren't you? I figured last week in the cafeteria was to get my attention, but- wow."
"Been trying to catch your eye for a while. Do anything for you at this point."
"Guess I should make it up to you." You bring him over to the couch and dive in for another kiss as you lift his shirt over his chest, stealing those last bits of lip gloss clung to his lips. The initials engraved into over his heart should bother you, but he looks so pretty that you can ignore it for now.
"Freak."
Erin's cock twitches at the insult. You peck his cheek and catch the drool falling from his open mouth before sinking to the floor. You free his length from its restraint, skirt blocking the view.
"Lift up for me."
Erin rolls his skirt up his legs, thighs clenched as you pump his cock. You push them apart with ease and get into position as you take the head of his cock into your mouth. He whines, spreading his legs more rather than trying to close them as you swirl your tongue around his girth. He wants to hold the hand gripping his thighs, but prioritizes keeping his skirt out of your face. Your nails dug into his skin as your mouth closes around him. Whether intentional or not - Erin throws his head back with a drawn out moan.
"Y/n, s-shit, too much- I cant-"
He weakly taps your shoulder, but you pay no mind as you take him down to base. You stare up at him with a look that ties his stomach into knots. Pulling back, his cock shines with your saliva and the gloss you had sucked off his lips minutes ago. The tears in his eyes leave messy, black streaks down his face as you edge him; kissing and slowly rolling your tongue over his cockhead as you lick the drops of pre-cum. His body tenses, knuckles as white as sheets gripping the hem of his skirt. Your nails go over the red marks in his skin once more and he sees white.
"F-fuck..." Erin shutters and moans through his release, shooting his load directly on your tongue as you stroke him through his high and stick it out to catch it all. His cock falls limp against his stockings which you tuck in it as you climb up his body and into his lap. Dazed, he licks his now dry lips and lifts his head signaling for a kiss. You comply, the taste of his release fresh in your mouth as you plant another kiss on his lips. He could hardly care less as he allows you to spit in his mouth right before you tangle your tongue with his. You give him a moment's rest before sinking your teeth into his neck, groping his thighs as you lead his hand to your waist.
"Up for more, pretty boy~"
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eezeybreezy · 1 year
Text
ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴜɴᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ʜɪꜱ ᴄᴀᴛ ➜ʜᴏʙɪᴇ ʙʀᴏᴡɴ x ɢɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
I have fallen to the Hobie brain rot and this is the result. This was a lot longer than intended so now it's broken into multiple chapters! Lmk if I should post those too or if this is too cringe.  Part 2, Part 3, Part 4🔞
warnings: suggestive, not-so-accurate accent, recreational drug/alcohol use, partying, punk shit, eventual smut? 
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As they entered the headquarters, the pair were met with a cacophony of sound and movement. People in spider suits and uniforms hurried to and fro, carrying files, and talking urgently on their phones or to each other. Clearly, this was a place of importance, filled with sensitive work and decisions.
The first was a young woman, her hair pulled back into a high ponytail and dressed in a long, flowing maxi skirt in earthy tones, paired with a crochet top. Adorned with beads or other natural details, she walked confidently, looking around with a sharp eye and taking in every detail. The second was a young man, his steps a little slower and his gaze mellow. He was dressed in a concoction of ripped fabrics, belts, and buttons, his studded vest and chunky boots a signature in the halls they walked.
"Wow," breathed the woman, taking in the bustling scene. "I knew this was a big deal, but I had no idea.."
The man chuckled. "Told you it was the real deal."
The Spider you’d come to know was none other than Hobie Brown, a stand-out among his peers and variants alike. You’d only met after being rounded up as an anomaly, though you’d come to the HQ willingly, as any means to getting home was better than being stranded in some uppity renaissance dimension. After learning of your role as the Black Cat in your world, the punk had found a new friend in an unexpected place.
“Hm…” Hobie peered at you absentmindedly, seemingly turning something over in his head.
You didn’t like that look, and knowing the kinds of ideas an anarchist could come up with, you decide to pry, “What’s up?”
Hobie finally looked at you and not through you, “How did you get those abilities bruv like, I was bit by a radioactive spider so I have spider DNA in me, but how’d you get ‘em?”
“Hear me out, a cat bit me. But she wasn’t radioactive or anything, actually quite sweet.”
“Wait wait wait, you ‘ere bitten… by a cat? And you now have abilities like me??”
You giggled at this, he’s dumbfounded over a cat but a radioactive spider giving powers is the norm around here. “I don’t know about ‘like you’ per say.’
“Aight, maybe not exactly like me, but it’s similar yeah? You have wall-crawling abilities I presume or am I wrong? And probably enhanced strength?”
Why the sudden interest in my abilities, you thought. “I mean I do have enhanced strength and speed, but I can only climb up walls with my claws, I don’t stick like you all do,” referring to the bustling crowd of Spider-people you found yourself in the presence of.
“I see, then I have one last question… What does your suit look like? I’m proper curious ‘bout that.”
Now this was unexpected, not only was he interested in your powers, but your alter ego altogether. In the few months, you’ve been friends, little was spoken about your homeworld, let alone the role you play in that dimension. You wonder what’s gotten him so interested, and so you decide to tease a little, getting Hobie Brown flustered was something very few could boast.
“You ever been to a BDSM club? It’s like a leather dominatrix suit
“…” “That’s… huh.”
“Problem ‘Obie?” You poke at him playfully, gliding to stand closer to the slender man.
“Not at all… can’t say I’m not confused though…” he trailed off. “But hey, as your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man it’s not my problem that you have an… um… interesting taste in fashion.”
That got a snort out of you, “You’re one to talk about ‘interesting taste in fashion’, Mr. Spider Punk.”
A sigh comes from the taller man. “Fine. You win.”
Deciding to toy with him further, you play nonchalant and petty, “If I’m so annoying I’ll just leave then. I enjoyed meeting you Punk.”
“Oi oi, I didn’t mean to insult you, I swear… I'll be 'onest wiv ya, mate. I don't really know what I'm doin' 'ere. I'm just takin' it one day at a time and seein' where it takes me.” He looked up from the ground to look at you again, something sad in his eyes. “Life's a funny old game, ain't it?"
“The rockstar runway model is bad with people? Color me shocked”
Hobie let out a huff of air, which you could only assume mimicked a laugh, “Is that meant to be an insult or genuine criticism?”
“I was being serious Hobie, you seem to have a good handle on people. You’re just so cool I thought maybe you’d have it down by now” Despite wanting to crawl into a hole at your admission, you said it with your chest, and you’re not about to back out now.
He’s quite surprised by this, not anticipating such a blatant compliment from you. “Huh… you’re actually pretty rad yourself. Most people don’t think that and just call me a freak.”
“I mean I’d say I’ma freak too but that hasn’t gotten me any complaints if you know what I mean.” You say with a wink, deciding to lay it on thick.
He smirks at you, catching the vibes you're putting down quickly. “Oh, I understand what you mean. I just didn’t expect you to be this forward luv.”
“What’s the phrase? ‘You miss 100% something something-”
“You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take?”
“Yeah yeah somethin like that”, you past your giggles. “You tryna get out of here?”
Hobie looks at you almost sideways, and if you didn’t know him better, you’d be put off by the glare. “Get out of here and do what exactly? What’re you planning?” He takes a step towards you, covering more ground than you’d anticipated due to his long strides. He was so close.
“I’m not dumb, I can tell you’re trying to trick me into something, but I’m not quite sure what…”
You smile at that, despite telling the truth, he’d managed to tease you in the process. We’re in the clear. “No trick here, not today at least.”
You look at him through thick lashes, “Did you have any ideas Spidey?” you ask coyly.
The punk chuckles,
“Ah, the ol’ playing coy shtick ‘uh? Not that I have anything against it, honest with you I kinda like it.”
Your tone is drenched in sarcasm, “Me? Coy? What kind of women do you take me for?” You’re feigning being offended, and he continues your banter. He laughs in a friendly way, deeply and honestly, a sound you wish was heard more often by the masses.
“Oh trust me you’re not like the other girls. You’re cool.”
“I’m not like other girls,” you say mockingly, trying to keep him amused. “So, what’s the punk down to do?”
Hobie’s face lights up with excitement, “I know just the place. Ever been to a punk rock show? There’s always tons of wankers to hang out with and it’s basically a Beano with loud ass music.”
You’d know about Spider-Man in front of you’s reputation, his subtle flex of eclectic success was something you’d come to admire about him. “I’ve had my fair share of underground events, though I’d call myself more goth than punk, you ever been to a goth club? I’m down to go to one of your shows if the anarchist is down to do some substances with me.”
He perked up at this. “Hell yeah, I’d be down, I love partying. Although, can I ask what kind of… substances you’re planning on using? I wanna make sure I bring the right shit.”
“Fuck no nothing hard, just weed and drinks will do it for me. That’s pretty stereotypical punk shit tho huh?”
“Yeah, well stereotypes exist for a reason. Though the whole ‘punks are stoners’ stereotype always bothers me, I never got why people think punk = drug abuse…” He shrugs.
The hair feels heavier, don’t kill the mood now! “ Well I do love me some weed, and hell yeah it’d be great to drink with you and have fun.” You keep going, hoping to bring that light back to the spider that was there but a moment ago. “I think the whole stereotype thing is stupid, but I totally understand why it doesn’t make sense to you, hating labels and all that.” You punctuate the end of your sentence with a punch to his shoulder.
“Alright, lead the way ‘Obie!”
He chuckles a bit at that, and playfully shoves you back into the portal he’s opened. You always land on your feet as you enter his dimension with a thud. He’s crouched next to you, standing to take off his mask and tuck his suit away.  
“What was that for huh? I know you can punch ‘arder than that.”
He closes the portal and starts walking towards the club, throwing you a glance over his shoulder. He beckons you to follow. “It’s just up this way, hopefully, there won’t be too big of a crowd.” His guard is down now, it’s just you and Hobie Brown, not Spider-Punk and Black Cat, just two “civs” kickin it.
“If you’re down to spar I can show you more than a little punch Bee.” You send a wink at Hobie, hoping the new nickname didn’t make him uncomfortable. “And hey! I thought you were a celebrity, don’t get special treatment even in the underground huh?”
Hobie smirks at that, “Hah. You’re funny.” He peers down at you, despite your above-average stature. “So you wanna spar then? Because now I’m very tempted to see what you can do.” He’s being cheeky, you can hear it in his tone.
Oh, this man was dangerous, and you can’t help the sly smile that makes its way to your face. “Oh, I’d love to show you everything I can do.” You’re sultry now, biting your lip as you gaze up at him.
“Damn, you’re a cocky little cat huh?” He shakes his head laughing, but can’t hide the big smirk forming on his face.
“Don’t think I won’t accept your challenge, because I will…”
“Oh? Is that so? What’s the punk challenging me to do exactly?” You step closer, still looking up at the man, with a smug grin on your face.
“Oh, I think you know…” He smirks at you and steps closer. “Or should I remind you?”
You grab him by his guitar strap, pulling him down until your lips almost touch. “It must’ve slipped my mind, Bert.” You emphasize his name teasingly.
Despite the way your eyelids flutter shut, and how your lips seem to draw each other in, he chuckles and gives you a quick kiss on the lips, still very clearly smug.
“I’m glad I could remind you.”
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