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#sky shots
perrysoup · 2 months
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Hey stupid novice question here:
How do you do this? Like slect out an area? Is it just laying the lines out manually or is it something you can define in a program, etc.
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As an example, say I wanted to note that building in the background. How would I do the lines around it to mark it?
Any suggestions welcome
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osrviewss · 1 year
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Jeya’s Gold Euro Star! A Terrific 2-inch Sky Shot!
2-inch Sky Shot!!! Gold Euro Star!!! Jeya’s Brand Sivakasi!!! Cheap & Best 2-inch Sky Shot!!!
Click the below link to read the detailed review!!!
https://osrviewss.com/jeyas-gold-euro-star-2-inch-sky-shot/
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r04sty · 13 days
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Why would she say that?
Can you tell I'm procrastinating
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a-dream-seeking-light · 7 months
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"A Rocky Rise" by Carl Evans, 2023
Carl Evans shot this full moon photo from Broadhaven, Pembrokeshire. The outcropping in the middle is known as Church Rock. The image consists of two photos stacked to show the moon through the clouds and the birds in flight around Church Rock. "I stood on the beach at Broadhaven for a couple of hours waiting for the Moon to rise. The clouds initially hid the Moon and as I was walking away it appeared among the clouds, adding a nice effect over it," Evans said of the photoshoot.
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gummi-ships · 7 months
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Kingdom Hearts - Halloween Town
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sports-on-sundays · 5 months
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people change / CL16 / Part 1
Summary: dad!Charles x French!ex!reader - You wish you could just forget about the relationship. It's hard when you had a son together.
Warnings: 'Y/s/n' means 'your son's name', you are free to imagine the son as whatever age he acts because I leave that unspecified, mention of breaking up/divorce, broken family, censored cussing, getting drunk, toxic relationship, me sucking at writing kids (how do they even act???)
Requested?: No.
Author's Note: This was heavily inspired by the song People Change by for KING & COUNTRY at the end there especially. I listened to it while writing. So you're free to look that up and have a listen. Link to part 2 / Link to part 3
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"Hey, sweetie," you say as you buckle your son into the car. "How was your day at school?"
"Fun... But Mama, I didn't know what to do."
"Hm? When didn't you know what to, love?" you ask, concerned.
"Well, we did papers and pictures about our mommies and daddies and our houses and stuff and I didn't know, Mama..."
You stop after he says this, pulling your hands away as they tremble. Your heart, at those words from your son, feels like it's being wrenched out of your chest, and you cough into your arm. "O- Oh, sweetheart..." you clear your throat. "Well, why don't you first draw pictures and write about me and my house, and then you write and draw about your daddy and his house..."
Your son does a pouting face at this. "Mama..." he complains. "Why can't you and Daddy be like other kids' mommies and daddies?"
"Love, I don't think this is the time to be talking about this. Let's just get driving home now." You hate to shut him down, but he's asking too many questions that you just can't answer.
He's asking too many questions that are making you feel too confused and guilty.
"Hey, buddy. What's up?" you smile as you get out of the car to help your son pack his bags into the trunk, and then get in the backseat. You're doing this right outside Charles' house. You're picking him up from his weekend with his dad.
The little boy shrugs as you buckle him in. "I want my grey bag, Mama! Daddy gave me some food for the ride."
"What do you say?"
"Please!" he pouts.
You nod, and give him his bag. Charles is always sure to equip Y/s/n with a bagful of healthy snacks for the hour and forty-five minute drive back home.
The whole ride, Y/s/n is unusually quiet. Even when you try talking to him, he gives short answers and makes no effort to continue the conversation. Which is very unusual from the usually frisky and excitable little boy.
When you get home and go inside, he immediately goes to his room, still not saying anything.
You sigh, feeling worried.
Did...
Did Charles do something?
Even though the two of you separated for big reasons, you've never felt too worried about Y/s/n going to see him every other weekend, except for maybe at the beginning. Over the years, you're pretty sure that Charles has gotten more responsible than how he once was.
"Dinnertime, love!"
Silence.
"Love?"
"I'm not hungry!"
You sigh, the worry sinking deeper. "You should have saved some of your dad's snack for later, then! I made dinner for you!"
Silence. Again.
You walk down the hall and knock on his bedroom door, before gently pushing it open. The little boy is sitting on his red bed. In his hand is his Ferrari hat. He's blankly staring at it.
Oh God no. What did Charles do? What did Charles say? Doesn't he understand the unspoken boundaries about this?
"Y/s/n?" you say gently, sitting down next to him. "What's wrong, sweetie? You know you can tell me. I'm listening."
The boy looks older than he is right now. You feel a sharp pang in your chest as he murmurs, "Why do you and daddy live in different countries? How come I have two houses, two bedrooms... two everything? How come, Mama?"
It takes all you have to not tear up. You wrap your arms tightly around him at this. He leans against you, hugging you back.
"Andre and Alex have a mommy and daddy who live in the same house. How come you and Daddy don't?"
"Y/s/n, it's really complicated, love. But, can I ask... What has got you thinking of all of this, love? What has got this on your mind?" You speak in a very gentle tone, rubbing his back. Obviously, this is upsetting him. Really, though, what kid wouldn't be upset?
Your son looks at you in hesitation. "I'm not allowed to say..."
You feel another pang of worry. "Love, it's okay. You can tell your mama anything."
"But Daddy told me not to."
You swallow nervously. "You're not doing anything wrong by telling me. I'm giving you permission. I can't have you feeling this upset, love. You can tell me anything that's bothering you, even if your father told you not to." Y/s/n is too much of a good kid. You don't know where he gets it from.
You wipe your son's watering eyes, trying to reassure him. He sniffs, before saying, "You won't tell Daddy?"
"Tell Daddy what?"
"What I'm gonna tell you."
You bite your lip. "Of course not, love. I won't tell your daddy."
He nods, before saying, as he starts to really cry, "Daddy cried, Mommy... I wasn't allowed to know but I couldn't sleep because Daddy forgot to read me my story. So I was going in to tell him to snuggle me... because I couldn't sleep. But Daddy was crying..." Y/s/n sniffs, and continues blubbering, "Daddy was talking to someone on the phone and he was really sad... I don't know why Daddy was crying, Mama. He said he was sad because he missed you and me to the person on the phone. Daddy was so sad so I don't know why we don't make Daddy happy and why can't my mommy and daddy be like my friends' mommies and daddies?" He lets out a sob, snuggling into you. You're speechless as your son continues, "I went and gave Daddy a hug because he was sad. He said he missed you. He asked me why I was up and said I was in trouble and said I wasn't allowed to tell you he was sad and crying. He said even daddies cry sometimes," he sniffs and lets out another sob. You hold him tight, eyes wide. "I asked him how come he was sad and he said he didn't know and he loved me and then we went to bed. I don't get it, Mama."
You try not to tremble.
Fighting off tears, because the last thing Y/s/n needs is to see his mom cry on top of it all. Not sad tears, though. Angry tears.
Why can't Charles just let go? He's so possessive and obsessive. F*ck him and his Monaco flat and his boat and his Ferrari and everything f*cking else. Why would he let his son see him so vulnerable. Doesn't he care? F*ck him.
Why can't he just let go?
You walk down the hall of the mall, your son's little hand in yours, heading to the food court because eventually, Y/s/n's complaining about how 'I'm hungryyyyy!' got too annoying, and you gave in.
Suddenly, though, his little hand slips out of yours. You look down at him in confusion, starting to say his name. He starts running away. You're about to go after him, but suddenly freeze when the little boy shouts, "Look, Mama, look! It's Daddy! Daddy! Hi, Daddy! Hiiiii!"
And sure enough, Charles Leclerc stops as soon as he sees his son, a grin spreading across his face. He adjusted his cap to be lower on his forehead, clearly trying to go incognito here. But he bends down, and the moment little Y/s/n reaches Charles, his father scoops him up into his arms, standing up with an, "Auwgh," noise, as if it were really hard for the strong man to pick up his light son. Charles holds him tight, in an embrace, before saying, "What's up, buddy? Where's your mama?" Y/s/n points, and Charles looks up.
Your eyes meet. And everything stops. The voices, the music, the whir of the escalators, the lights, heating, and air conditioning all making their own sounds, the people walking past- everyone else living their own lives disappear.
And it's just you and Charles, eyes locked, staring at each other.
Heartbeats or seconds or minutes, you don't know. You feel a certain electricity that hurts. Shocks you. Maybe Charles likes how it feels though. Maybe he loves that, with his adrenaline seeking lifestyle. Because, after all, he doesn't look away.
But in the same way, you don't either.
Finally, it's your son that breaks the trance you seemed to go into with your ex-husband, by saying suddenly words that stress you out and tear you apart at the same time: "See, Daddy?" He pats his father's cheek, which has a little bit of facial hair. "You don't have to cry anymore... You don't..." Suddenly, he looks a little scared, realizing he wasn't supposed to say that, but finishes softly with, "You don't have to miss Mama anymore, Daddy, because she's right here..."
There's almost a pleading in your son's eyes. A longing. You feel yourself start to tear up, but you strive to hold them back. Y/s/n. He loves us. He loves his parents so much. He just wishes they would love each other.
Charles shakes his head in surprise, stroking Y/s/n's hair, "Buddy, it's okay. Don't worry. I'm okay. I don't-" he falters for just a moment before finishing quickly, glancing to you nervously, "I don't miss Mama anymore. Don't worry."
"But I miss Mama." At this, both of you look at your son in confusion.
"But Y/s/n, Mama is right here," Charles says carefully, taking more steps closer to you. "See? Do you want to go with M-"
"No!" your son suddenly snaps, and says as if it is the most obviously thing on earth, "When I'm with Daddy, I miss Mama. When I'm with Mama, I miss Daddy. I don't wanna miss you guys!"
All the sudden, it's too much for you. All of it. Before Charles can do anything else you say quickly, your voice obviously cracking and your breath shaky, "Charles, can you take him home today? I'm sorry-"
"Of course, Y/n. I-"
You turns, jogging away. You need to get out of there.
But as you run out, you hear Charles call after you, "Y/n! Y/n, wait! Y/n, we're going to talk on the phone tonight, okay? There's things we still need to go over!"
At around 3:00 A.M., Charles calls. While you're worried to answer, you're also relieved. The fact that you're still awake at 3:00 A.M. shows how much anxiety you've been feeling about getting this call from Charles.
When you pick up, you murmur softly, "Hey, Charles."
"Sorry I'm calling at this hour. God. I just had to make sure Y/s/n was sound asleep. I'm, uhm," he pauses to clear his throat awkwardly, and continues in a softer, more delicate voice, "I'm sure Y/s/n told you about the phone call the other weekend..."
"Y- Yeah, he did. What did you do? Did you scare him into not telling me? He was crying," you say, your voice becoming harder and harder as you speak.
"What?! No! I just asked him please not to tell you. That was it. Maybe he was crying because..." Charles trails off.
"Because why?" you snap, although the sinking feeling within tells you exactly why.
"Y/n..." he sighs loudly. "Because our son loves us and doesn't get why... w- we... don't- don't, uhm.... love each other." The facts that he falters so much on that last phrase, that it's so hard for him to get out, sends a pit in your stomach. Of dread, and anger.
And without another hesitation, you just say it. "Charles... you still love me, don't you?"
There's silence over the phone. Sickly, disgusting, terrible silence. The anger rises up in you higher and higher, like a pressure, trying to push you on your tipping point. So finally you snap, probably way too loud, "Charles, what the hell! F*ck you. I hate you, you f*cking asshole. You're too much of a f*cking coward to even say it! Just like you've always been!" Your voice gets louder and louder. "Just like you've always been! Too much of a f*cking coward to admit anything! You tricked me! You had me thinking everything was peaches and cream, but it wasn't! You were being a terrible person and played innocent, and whenever I asked you anything, you did the same exact thing you still do. You just keep silent. Charles, I know you'll never grow, I hate that my son has to see your sorry ass every other weekend, and if I knew it wouldn't break his sweet little heart, I would wish your pathetic silent self would just fall off the face of the earth so I didn't have to ever have to listen to your stupid, pathetic silence ever again."
"Y/n, I-" You hang up. Charles doesn't try to call back.
Years ago.
Charles came in and stumbled into your arms, as if you were the one that needed to take care of him. You were tired, having stayed up with your fussy baby boy nearly all night, with no help, and you wanted to cry. You didn't want Charles to stumble in, drunk, right into your arms, as if he was the one who needed help. No. He was the one causing the problem. He had reeked of alcohol. He didn't get drunk this often, and you knew exactly why he was doing it now, although he'd been too scared while sober to admit it to you. It was the argument you'd had, and his way of coping was going out, getting drunk, and coming home to his wife and baby at three in the morning, wasted. Now, while drunk out of his mind, he was able to murmur, his words slurred tremendously, "Y/n... I'm sorry, love... You should've come with me tonight. I had fun... We could... make up for that argument..." He had a sickly seductive tone in his voice.
You felt rage fill up in you. Did you forget about your son? The son that you and I created together? Did you forget about that? Instead of letting any of that rage escape you, you just brought him to the bedroom and helped him into bed. You left him, walked to the living room, sat down on the couch, and held your aching, tired head, pulling at your hair, as tears escaped your closed eyelids.
Your world was spinning. Everything was wrong.
The argument. You had started it. And yelled at him. About how he was a coward and never told the truth. Even though you loved him. You thought. You must've. You... You had a son together. You yelled at him for telling you he was working when he wasn't. You yelled at him that he wasn't helping you at all and that you were going out of your mind. You said you felt like a single mom because he was never around, never helped, and never tried to. He lied and told you that an event he had mentioned that you were excited for was cancelled because he had found out more things about the event that he didn't want to deal with himself. He was becoming more and more selfish, showing who he really was more and more every single day. It just made you think- what is he doing when he gets drunk? What else is he being dishonest about?
Eventually you stopped loving him. You loved your son much more, so you broke it off. The final tipping point was when you suspected he had cheated, although nothing had ever proved that. But that was when you finally broke it off.
He was heartbroken. He held onto you. No, Y/n, please don't do this. I'll try better. I'll try better. You had told him that he had been saying he'd try better for the past year.
He had cried. Maybe even sobbed. You only saw him sob twice. Once was one time when he was drunk out of his mind, and the other one was that night when you told him you were breaking it off. I guess Y/s/n has seen him sob a third time, though.
He had said to you that he still loved you. You had said if you loved me, you wouldn't have done this. And that was the end of it.
Or so you thought.
You can't believe you're here. You can't believe he convinced you. You set up for your mother to watch Y/s/n while you drive into Monaco and.
Well, yeah. Go to Charles' God-forsaken house. To meet with him. 'Have a talk' as he put it. 'In real life.' So he can 'see your face and expressions.' And 'understand better.'
Charles opens the door. He's wearing a black t-shirt, grey jeans, and has his usual assortment of different bracelets on his wrists. And a disgustingly expensive watch. As you walk into his (beautiful) flat, you see that it hasn't changed much since you left and moved a couple hours closer to home, back in France. Just a little cleaner. But just like how it was when you lived here, there's still a stray toy on the floor here and there. As if reading your mind, he bends down, picking up a few of them, before putting them in a basket in the corner of the room. He runs his hand through his messy, wavy brown hair, looking a little awkward. "Why don't you sit down?" he asks softly, gesturing to the couch by a nod of his head. "Make yourself... comfortable... Uh... I made some cookies. Consider it a peace offering. And I... I really tried to make them good, too. I'm just going to go grab them." And before you can think or react, he's walking out of the room to grab them.
When he returns with the cookies, he sits down next to you, holding the little plate out to you. You hesitantly take one, nibbling off a little bite, nervously glancing to Charles. "It's fine..." you say. In your taste, too sweet (and slightly gooey) but besides that, alright. "But I just want to get this over with, okay? Charles can we just... have this talk? So I can go?"
Your ex husband stared down, before nodding slowly. "Yeah... Of course." He falters, before murmuring, "I love our son just as much as you do. And it hurts me to see him-"
"My God, Charles, shut up. I know what this is about. It's about you being selfish," the bitterness in your voice surprised even yourself, "You're being selfish because for some twisted reason, you still want to be with me, and you're using my son's pain as an excuse. You're just as you've always been- selfish, lying, and making excuses."
"Y/n, no it's not!" he snaps, his eyes pleading. "I- I- I want the best for our son."
"Charles, do you still love me?"
He stares at you. Hesitates. Falters. He inhales a shaky breath, before looking down at his hands in his lap. "All these years I've never dated another woman. All these years the guilt has crushed me."
"Shut up!" you spit. "It's not guilt, Charles, of hurting me your or son. It's guilt because you wouldn't wanted to be with me longer. It's selfish. You're f*cking selfish!"
He practically begs, "Please, babe, just listen-"
"What did you just call me?"
He stares in surprise at what he just said. He swallows. "I'm sorry- It- It just came out..."
You glare, and shout, "You still love me, you dick! I hate you! You- You cheated on me!"
He cuts you off by grabbing your arm suddenly. There's a desperate look in his eyes. "Y/n... No, I didn't... I swear it on my life.. On my job, on everything I love... I would..." You're shocked to watch as a singular tear gently rolls down one of his cheeks. He's holding back more. The salty, warm tear drops right onto your palm. You wipe it off. Charles eyes plead with you as he murmurs, his voice cracking, "I would never cheat on you..."
You stare, trying to form more words, not knowing what to say.
But Charles continues, "I don't know where you got the idea I cheated on you... I know it was hard and I was being..." Suddenly there is guilt and grief openly painted all across his face. "I was being a terrible person... Giving up the most lovely, sweet wife and baby I could've ever asked for... I was young and stupid, Y/n...Y/n... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I swear I mean it...
"I would do anything for this to work."
Another tear falls.
"Y/n... just listen... I need you to hear me out..."
He sniffs. He seems so broken. Vulnerable. Honest.
"It's all my fault, Y/n. I know. I know. I'm sorry. And I get if you're afraid... I would be, too... but, Y/n... I wish you could just understand that... that...
"Y/n, people change."
Author's Note- Just wanted to say if you guys liked this and want a part two, I'm totally open to writing that! Let me know if you want a part two, and if you have any ideas, shoot! Like should I end this happy? Or not...? And in what way? If no one gives me ideas, I'll just come up with it, but you guys are extremely welcome to let me know!!! Thank you! <3
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phoenix-arts7 · 8 months
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My personal favorite Nimona screenshots I just wanted to share.
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unicyclingdogs · 1 year
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I like how 1/3 of the chain has been shot out of a cannon at one point; at least wind did it to save his sister and twi did it to travel to the desert/sky, but sky did it to win money from a clown 💀
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russenoire · 1 month
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i don't think the background art in mob psycho 100's anime adaptation gets nearly enough love. it's full of mundane objects depicted in the most exquisite watercolors.
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like this electrical pole here. with its giant soup can-like transformer and attendant power lines against a cloudy twilight sky, all shot through with vibrant pink and lilac and creamy butter yellow.
not only does this painting–and it is a painting–bring new meaning to the phrase 'golden hour', it's still one of the most glorious things i've ever laid eyes on. and you might pass one of these utility poles every day without a second glance. since seeing this image? i haven't been able to.
this is a single frame of animation. there are hundreds of thousands more in this series, maybe just as beautiful. i wanted to call your attention to this one. just because.
it reminds me to pay attention.
to notice, and keep noticing, the beauty in ordinary things (and beings!).
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travel in postworld by 很烦
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goldenstarprincesses · 5 months
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*modern trench warfare being used for the first time in a major conflict during the American civil war*
*trench warfare leaving mental scars on Alfred that takes years of healing to move past*
Alfred showing up to Europe and seeing they somehow made trench warfare worse
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theangelcatalogue · 24 days
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WHAT'S WRONG? || YANDERE FRANCIS X READER! || ★!
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★ - Romantic or Platonic(?)!
★ - Gender Neutral reader!
★ - One shot!
★ - Before we start: Idk why i did this, but i saw fics of him, and people going crazy over him, so why not?? I don't even write for that's not my neighbour, but i love the game! So let' go! Also sorry if is confusing! My mind is kinda tired and idk why i wrote this at 1AM(Is i wrote this at 1AM, remade some parts and posted it at 2AM) (Pls check Tw before reading it! <3)
★ - TW: YANDERE, DOPPELGANGER, BLOOD, BAD ENGLISH, BAD GRAMMAR AND MADE BY A MINOR!!! PLEASE TELL ME IF I MISSED SOMETHING!!!
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   ˚๑ ✦ Y/N!!! ✦ ๑°
・・・ ★ ・・・
︶ ꒷ ︶ ꒷ ���
Just a normal day in work!
This work is not that bad, i mean, i have to focus in every single neighbor, check some papers and be careful because some of than can be actually doppelgangers that will kill me and the persons that live here? Yeah-
But is guess i am getting used to it! And some neighbors are really nice! And others are just weird and rude! But what i can do? People are like that!
It's kinda weird that no one is showing up now, but i can have some time to rest now! Just me, a good coffee and my jornal/book(it can be a jornal or a book!)
Now i am just reading, waiting for anyone, i mean the today's list is short today! Lucky me i guess? I get kinda focused in the reading, the content is kinda depressing and boring, but is what i have for now
" Hello Y/n. "
I heard someone saying, Oh! I can't forget this voice!
" Francis! Tired as always? Well, let's see if you are in todays list! "
I said not taking the eyes of my jornal/book, i am lucky that Francis is the one who showed up! He is kinda nice! Just a tired guy but hey! He is a hardworker!
" Sounds good for me. Here is my entry request and ID "
I could notice him giving the papers, now i notice his hand is kinda dirty and his voice is kinda off, more tired than usual...
" Oh! Thanks- "
I respond him finally taking my eyes of the book, now i can see Francis better let's say, he is covered in a red liquid with a weird smell
It is what i am thinking? Oh yeah! A doppelganger! But i never thought a doppelganger would commit a error like that, why blood...? Some are a missing eye, others just say peach and others are a long neck and etc, what if is not a doppelganger...?
" What's wrong Y/n? Something wrong about the papers? "
He says noticing that i am kinda nervous, i just pick the papers and the clickboard as usual, first thing to question?
His looks.
" Francis! What happend? You are corvered in...what is that? Can you explain? "
Francis just looks at his outifit and then back at me, the same tired look, but something about the way he looks at me is different, i can't tell what is
" Oh this? It's a new milk! Scarlett Milk! It's a Milk with Red coloring, and Yes, it's food coloring! Not used in clothes... "
" Really Francis? So tell me! How did you got corvered in...Scarlett Milk...? "
He was getting tired of me questioning i guess, okay, i have three options!
1. It's really a milk with food coloring
2. It's a doppelganger
3. Francis is a killer or just got crazy
Please let it be 1-
" Accident at work. Just that, can i go in? "
He asks me looking at me deep at the eyes, i feel like he is judging all my sins, i break the eye contact and look at the Red button and then at the phone
Should i call the police or my boss?
" Look Y/N, i am really tired, just let me in, so i can go take a shower and rest. Maybe after you are done, you can go to my room, drink some coffee together! I heard is your favorite drink, what about a coffee with milk uh? "
He says to me, i think he is getting impatient
OH REALLT Y/N L/N!? DON'T TELL ME
" I- "
" Come on darling. "
He gets closer to the window, supporting his one of his arms in the glass
" Let. Me. In "
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✦ - NOTES!!!
✮ " Sky wtf was that? " I DON'T KNOW LOL ✮
✮ The fandom go crazy about him gosh ✮
✮ Okay should i write for TNMN??? ✮
✮ Anyways have a good day my loves! <33 ✮
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osrviewss · 2 years
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Testing Bursting Largest Sky Shots on Diwali 2022 | SIVAKASI CRACKERS COLLECTIONS | OSRVIEWSS DIWALI SPECIAL CELEBRATIONS WITH OSRVIEWSS!!!
CLICK THE BELOW LINK TO WATCH THE SPECIAL DIWALI CELEBRATIONS!!!
https://youtu.be/7jRPT6OHjA0
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cutielando · 4 months
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comfort ~ charles leclerc
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Summary: Race after race after race where his team failed him, Charles only needs the comfort of your touch to feel better.
Words: 1.0k+
Other works: my masterlist
♡♡♡♡♡
Ferrari had done it again.
Yet another failed strategy, yet another shitty race.
You couldn't even keep count of these anymore.  Weekend after weekend, race after race, everything seemed to be going against your boyfriend. 
From failed hydraulics, to bad-times pit stops, to bad strategies, to crashes. You name it, Ferrari did it. You knew how much the team mattered to Charles, but it was getting out of hand and ridiculous.
When it was time for the Brazilian Grand Prix, you had hoped that it would be different this time. That maybe, just maybe, the team wouldn't mess this one up.
But of course, you had been wrong once again.
The hydraulics had failed, leaving your boyfriend out of the race in the Formation Lap.
"Why am I so unlucky?" your heart broke when you heard the broken voice of your boyfriend on the radio.
You could feel, even from just hearing his voice, how hurt and disappointed he was that he found himself, once again, out of the race before he could prove himself.
You waited impatiently for him to get back to the Ferrari garage, knowing he was going to be in a foul mood and you would have to figure out a way to cheer him up and make him feel better about himself and the situation.
Seeing his car being hauled towards the garage and him slowly stomping after it made your heart hurt for him.
The moment he looked up and noticed you waiting for him there, he sped up and crashed into your arms, letting his helmet fall to the ground.
"You're okay, baby. I'm here, it's okay" you whispered in his ear, running your hand through his hair softly.
"Let's go" he mumbled in your ear before he pulled away, took your hand and started leading you to his driver's room.
You followed him in silence, knowing it was best to let him come to you and talk whenever he was ready. Pushing him did nothing but worsen his current state.
After you had made it to his room, he locked the door behind you before collapsing on his couch with his face buried in the pillow, grunting.
You slowly walked up to him and sat down on the edge of the couch, your hands slowly starting to massage his back and his shoulder.
He moaned at the feeling, his hand finding your knee and gently rubbing his hand over it.
As you worked on his back and shoulders, you could feel the tense knots slowly dissipate, his muscled finally starting to relax after hours and hours of soliciting. 
"How are you feeling?" you had asked him after several minutes of silence, your hands now only dragging your nails up and down his back like you knew he liked.
He sighed, leaning into your touch. 
"Like shit" he mumbled, his thick Monegasque accent rippling through.
"I know, baby" you comforted him, continuing to run your hands up and down his back.
"I just don't understand why this keeps happening" he began, turning around on his side so he was facing you. "Every single race, something has to go wrong for me, but never for Carlos. It's always be that's out, always me who has car problems, always me who crashes, me every single time. I'm starting to think they're doing it on purpose" your heart broke hearing him talk like this about the team he had dreamt of being a part of since he was a little child.
"Hey, hey, don't think like that. I know it's incredibly frustrating, and you've had a tough year, but that doesn't mean that things aren't going to get better. You just need to have faith in yourself and in the team" you tried to comfort him, despite knowing that no words could make him feel better about the situation.
He nodded but didn't say anything, just closing his eyes in hopes to escape the world and everything around him.
♡♡♡♡♡
You had hoped it would be different now. The car was looking good, he was flying in qualifying, securing his spot in pole, everything seemed to be going perfectly.
Until it didn't.
Chaos in the garage preparing for a pit stop and a bad strategic decision later, Charles found himself out of the race, once again. 
You couldn't watch the screen where your boyfriend was retiring his car, feeling furious beyond words.
The amount of sweat, tears and pain that Charles had poured into the team, the loyalty he had for Ferrari even when everything proved against the team, and still they failed him every time he needed them.
You stormed out of the garage, making your way to Charles' room where you knew he would appear as soon as he got out of the car.
In times like this, you knew the last thing he wanted was to linger in the garage with his team, angry as he was, not wanting to cause a scene where everyone could see and hear.
True to your word, not even 10 minutes had passed by until the door opened and in came Charles, looking sadder than you had ever seen him.
When his eyes met yours, he couldn't hold in the tears that started running down his cheeks. You pouted and quickly got up, enveloping him in your arms and squeezing him tightly.
Charles hugged you back just as tightly, burying his face in the crook of your neck and letting out sobs that chipped away little bits of your heart at a time. 
You stayed like that for a good 10 minutes, letting him get everything out of his system while kissing every inch of his body that you could reach and whispering sweet reassurances in his ear. 
Once he started calming down and his tears were no longer flowing down his cheeks, he slowly lifted his head from your neck, his beautiful eyes now swollen and red.
"Oh, my sweet love" you whispered, giving him a gentle smile before pecking his lips and cradling his face in your hands.
"I'm sick of this" he said, his voice hoarse and croaky.
"I know, I know" you nodded and brought him in for another hug, making sure he could feel your love and support in his time of need.
Despite being once again disappointed by Ferrari, in that moment, Charles couldn't help but smile a little, knowing that despite everything, he had you by his side.
And you were all he needed.
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Manhunter (Michael Mann, 1986)
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