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#so if there's inaccuracies...
nico-di-genova · 1 month
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Post Jeddah Strollonso Snippet
There are scars on Lance’s wrists, faint and hardly noticeable. Two even cuts along the bone where the metal pins were put in and taken back out that have healed into pale lines. Fernando catches Lance running his thumb along the scars sometimes, absentmindedly, like a twinge of phantom pain can be felt there anytime he fails. He clips the wall in Saudi, just brushes the corner at turn twenty-two and send it into the barriers on twenty-three. When Fernando gets him alone afterward, he’s running a fingernail along the line on his right wrist.
“Lance, stop,” he berates, sliding off his shoes and kicking them in the general direction of his suitcase that lies open on the hotel floor. They land beside Lance’s slides and a green Aston Martin hoodie that started in Lance’s ownership but has since been rehomed into Fernando’s growing collection of stolen loungewear.
Lance blinks, slow and lethargic, but doesn’t indicate he’s heard Fernando otherwise.
“Lance.”
Perched on the edge of their bed, leaning on one arm and looking at the man sprawled out across the mattress behind him, he waits. Lance’s hands are resting on his stomach, rising and falling with each of his breaths in a steady rhythm. He’s still wearing his shoes, and jacket and the blank expression he’s worn since they left the circuit and wound up back here.
“Lance,” Fernando presses, not surprised when he doesn’t receive a coherent answer. Instead, Lance hums in something that is maybe meant to be acknowledgement but could easily be dismissed for the sound of the air conditioning kicking on.
Not for the first time, Fernando finds himself wishing he could follow Lance wherever it is he goes when he’s like this. Back in the car, trying to figure out how he could have salvaged the broken Aston, or back in front of the cameras where he wonders what he could have said to make them see him any differently. Usually, Fernando knows he thinks about the damage, the toll that it’s taking to his father’s credit. It is one of the rare times where Lance thinks about money, the true cost of it, and how much it’s piling up each time he ends up buried in the tires.
Sometimes it’s good to give Lance his space, let him come back on his own terms. Other times the silence scares Fernando, makes him wonder if there will ever be a point where the man won’t come back at all.
It scares him more to realize that he actually cares – that at some point the bosses son had become something more than an obstacle in his way.
Lance breaths, presses his fingernail harder against the scar. Fernando watches as the skin turns white with the pressure before leaning over and pulling the assaulting hand away from where it’s injuring it’s twin. Lance lets him, limp and pliable.
“It was small,” Fernando tries, “an easy fix. You will come back stronger next time.”
Keeping Lance’s wrist in his grasp, he shifts until he’s lying beside the man, his head resting on Lance’s chest.
“It will be okay,” He soothes, bringing Lance’s wrist to his lips and kissing the scar there, warm breath ghosting over marred skin.  
“I crashed,” Lance states, empty. “Again.”
Fernando is not good with feelings, not good with lingering in his mistakes. His motto has always been to keep the past in the past. Lance, no matter how much he tries to make the public think otherwise, does not share this belief. He internalizes, he stews, he lashes out at the cameras, the team, Fernando and then he gets quiet. It is like a cycle, dependable but self-destructive, nonetheless.
 Fernando thinks he should try partying, or maybe alcohol, but that probably wouldn’t solve much either, even if it would be more fun.  
The quiet is oppressive, broken only by the chatter of passerby in the hall and Lance sighing intermittently. Fernando listens to the beat of his heart from where his ear is pressed against the Canadian’s chest, if only to give himself something to focus on. He keeps Lance’s wrist against his lips. They both smell of sweat and rubber, the stench of the track sticking to them along with Lance’s fog of disappointment.
“One-hundred twenty-six,” Lance mumbles, seemingly to himself.
Fernando yawns, “What?”
“A front wing.”
“The cost?”
“Yeah. Thousand."
“Small. Cheaper than the whole car.”
What he wants to say is ‘cheaper than a hospital bill’ but he’s not ready for the argument those flood gates would open. Because it’s not about the car, not really, and it’s not about the bruises that Fernando knows he will find forming when he finally gets Lance to remove his clothes and step under the warm spray of a shower. It’s not about Lance at all, but the man who always seems to find a way into their relationship – Lawrence and his checkbook and the expectation that Lance has taken from the man and placed onto his own shoulders.
Fernando is tired, too tired for a fight, so he stays quiet.
Lance loves his father, and Fernando loves Lance and so there’s no use in fighting over the boulder that has planted itself firmly between them. They work around it, or they sometimes kick against it when they’re feeling particularly bold, but it’s too heavy to move and so neither of them tries.
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toxtricitylow · 2 months
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playing around with some historical french fashions on furina (+ neuvi).. I think she should always get big silly hats
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18th+19th century mens fashion is one of my fav fav fav things is ever so this was fun 🫡 love being fashion history neurodivergent
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I'm looking back at random things I was taught as a kid by various adults and media and. did nobody bother to factcheck anything? was that just not an option or
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siredcrab · 2 months
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I found this I forgot I made hoho
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filurig · 5 months
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instructional booklet for basal and listless ceteceans feeling like looking for porpoise
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murdrdocs · 2 months
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cw weed
having vivid images of lazy make outs with luke, fueled by the weed buzzing through your systems.
laying back on the grass, the breeze blowing against your skin and tickling the grass along your legs. your body is heavy, still fighting off the initial high that urges you to lay back and do absolutely nothing.
you’re attempting to combat it enough to engage, willing your mouth to open, your lips to move, your tongue to press against his.
his hand is at your lower back, pulling you closer to him, keeping you still by slotting your legs together. he starts to grip at your ass, digging his fingers into the flesh despite your flimsy shorts covering them. he doesn’t care much for them, nudging his fingers under the elastic waistband to meet his target, flesh against flesh.
hornier than you thought, you’re already moaning into his open mouth as you lazily start to press your crotch against his, determinedly searching for the angle that’ll provide the most friction.
there’s so much going on, but at such a languid pace. you feel like you have all the time in the world, definitely another effect of the herbal taste at the back of luke’s teeth and the smell in his hair. when you’re both a little more sober, you know he’s going to make you take a dip in the sound to rinse the smell off of you both.
but for now you’ll stay like this for as long as either of you can take. and if luke’s hand—having now circled to the front and starting to tease your cunt through your panties—is anything to go by, neither of you will last long.
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thatnununguy · 6 months
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Got into Guilty Gear, helped me get through a really dry no-drawing period :)
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starstruckodysseys · 2 months
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can you imagine being thirteen and having the world at your fingertips. everyone loves you - why shouldn’t they? you’re the epitome of a good girl, the ideal, the popular cheerleader type who gets The Guy. you giggle and you flirt with the football players and you have sleepovers with your friends (who don’t really feel like your friends but you’re all popular so you have to like each other, right?). you do your makeup and you bat your eyelashes and everything is perfect.
and then you start growing horns. you start looking like the devil - and you might as well be, the way everyone turns on you, starts looking at you as if you’re a freak, a monster. and, well, if everyone’s going to treat you as such, you might as well play the part, right?
so you rebel against your parents (if they’re not lying about that, too). you go out and you buy a bass guitar and you pluck at the strings until your fingers bleed. it’s better than listening to the arguments downstairs. you transform into people you’re not to pretend you could really be someone instead of the shell you are now. you flirt with guys twice your age to pretend you still have it in you, even if it feels hollow. you grin and you bear it but it’s hollow, in the end.
if you can’t be perfection anymore, why bother being anything?
(and then you meet the most wonderful people in your life. and they accept you as you are and don’t ask you to change. but you find yourself changing anyway, because they make you feel like you can be something. like maybe it’s worth it again. and you finally get The Girl. and maybe life isn’t perfection anymore, but maybe perfection is overrated, anyway.)
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thekidthesuperkid · 1 month
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No Bruce is not "fine with being friends with people who kill all the time"
1) if you're referring to Diana she doesn't kill people all the time, she only kills in very extreme circumstances when she's forced to bc theres no other option, and it's only happened like three times total
2) Bruce very much is not fine with it when Diana kills. When she killed Maxwell Lord, it was written for the sole purpose of breaking up the Trinity for Infinity Crisis drama reasons, and Diana killing was chosen because Bruce (and Clark) would not be fine with it. At all
3) if you're referring to Ghostmaker, Bruce also isn't fine with him killing people and tries to stop him
4) if you're referring to Oliver Queen, they're not friends
5) if you're referring to Talia, Bruce also isn't fine with her killing people, and continuously has conflict with her about it
6) if you're referring to Helena, they're not friends and also Bruce treats her almost worse than Jason
7) if you're referring to Jim Gordon, Bruce still isn't fine with it, but also the copganda around him kinda makes consistent moral characterization a lost cause for Bruce in relation to him
8) I know you're not referring to Clark because nobody making this argument actually reads super comics let alone 80s super comics so none of you know about the Zod storyline, but Bruce didn't even know about that therefore its irrelevant
9) in case you might be referring to Harvey, Bruce also hasn't been friends with him since he became Two Face
10) I can't think of any others right now but whoever you're thinking of I can guarantee that if Bruce knows they killed someone and thinks its possible to influence them, there has been a storyline about him disapproving of them killing
11) if you're referring to Harley Quinn for some reason, they also are not friends
Like I dont get where you're coming from and also Bruce Wayne is very much not fine with his friends killing people
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kittysawat · 1 month
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if you cant get an organic s2 wedding, then store bought is just fine!!!!!!!!
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⌗︙・⚠︎ being intimidated by love-struck and obsessed wriothesley ⚠︎ ♡⸝⸝
Wriothesley is aware of how intimidating he is.
Sometimes he doesn't even mean to be, and he feels a bit guilty about it. Given his stoic and less-than-inviting expressions, he doesn't blame the average person for flinching in his presence whenever they notice him in the vicinity. Hell, he's accidentally given the staff at some of the restaurants he frequents a bit of a fright from his tone and expression alone. And all because he had been simply inquiring about his meal, as it had taken longer than usual to be brought out.
But his seemingly unapproachable manner doesn't mean that Wriothesly doesn't attract his fair share of admirers and potential suitors. He'd have to be a fool to not see the lovestruck stares that were thrown his way by certain individuals, to not hear the hushed whispers of admirers fawning over his attractive features and squealing whenever he'd coldly glance their way for a split second. He isn't one to let all of that admiration inflate his ego, let alone pay much attention to it, to begin with. If at all, he'd rather avoid people's attention, much preferring to enjoy the quietness of solitude.
But he doesn't care about any one of them. Wriothesly only cares about you—his eyes are reserved for you and you alone.
Love-struck gazes on your form are often what he finds himself doing a good majority of his time, his heart beating so hard—so painfully loud—that he feels dizzy by just looking at you. Wriothesly looks at you as if you're the very reason he takes each breath, the reason why he wakes up and gets up out of bed, the very reason why he lives on. Sometimes if he catches himself passing by a mirror after having seen you, his cheeks and even ears are tinged with blush. To the unsuspecting eye, the dark haired male is more akin to a happy dog having received a treat for being good, his gentle smile and softened eyes making him look nothing like the intimidating man he is supposed to be.
But his lovesick puppy gazes fade away upon seeing you with somebody else, somebody else making you smile and laugh in a way that makes his belly fill with warmth but is quickly snuffed out once he remembers that your sweet laughter is not for him. Jealously rears its rotten, ugly head within Wriothesly's gaze, sick thoughts coiling to fruition within his mind. He cannot stand the thought, let alone the sight, of you interacting so merrily with someone that is not him. If looks could kill, then the bastard would have long since torn to pieces, left as a bloody pile heaped upon the ground long ago. He ends up crushing the fragile tea he'd been holding in his hand to pieces from the raw anger surging through his veins.
But it is not just possessiveness that fuels his obsession with you. It is envy—envy that others could make you laugh and grin so merrily in ways that he cannot. You are uneasy around him, unwilling to spare him one of your smiles that renders him a clumsy fool.
Self-hatred festers inside him every time you flinch in his presence, how when he does manage to ease a measly excuse of a conversation from you, you don't even look him in the eyes—the dust gathering in the dingy corner of a room is far better than looking at him. He supposes that your less-than-stellar first meeting has something to do with your wariness around him, as well as his frightening demeanor and voice—he sometimes forgets that he comes off as scary to you even if that was far from what he was intending.
But Wriothesly can only hold in his suppressed feelings for so long. He's only human, and even he has his limits too after all, no matter how standoffish and collected he appears on the surface. He wants nothing more than to lose himself in your warm embrace, bury his nose in the side of your neck and soak in the tranquility of being so intimately close to you without having to worry about scaring you off once again. Those daydreams that leave him shuddering with need and wanting more can hardly suffice anymore.
Wriothesley is uncertain for how much longer he could possibly hold in his festering feelings.
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© latimeriafellfromheaven
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philzasjuicyass · 3 months
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Ok, so. Heaven.
In the court in ep6, we see 5 different types of angels (on top of the Seraphim).
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In the middle there are moth/bug-looking ones (mix of antenna/no antenna). Then we've got the birdies (the ones at the top have extra Long Feathers) and the very demonic looking horned ones at the bottom. (And this one guy at the top with the eyed appendages)
On top of those are what I think are Ophanim; wheels with eyes on them at the top. We see them in the beginning narration of ep1,
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And it looks like two of the angels we saw creating Earth might also be Ophanim (the 2 lower ones)
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One of these angels was clearly Sera, a Seraph we later see accompanied by Emily. Sera is the "Head Seraph" and expresses that it's her job to take care of things since she's older.
People have theorized that Seniority is an important thing among angels because of that and how, in the ep1 narration, it's said the Elders of Heaven disapproved of Lucifer's ideas for creation.
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We are shown 6 angels here (7 including Lucifer), all of them with unique halos (and heads!) making them distinct from each other.
And in ep5, we see the same group of 6 with the exact same halos again
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Except this time they're even more distinct, with distinguishing silhouettes&markings added.
Seven angels, including Lucifer? Almost like... the Archangels?
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“I want gay things to happen to me now” I say, sitting at home being an unpleasant harridan with weird interests and very specific romantic tastes and life goals not common among my preferred dating demographic
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mochiiniko · 6 months
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Her heart was beating in her ears like a marching band
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I’ve been getting back into drawing stuff for Rhythm Doctor again because of the Act 5 hype, so here’s a silly comic based on Mic Check by ReneeDekobora2042!! It was one of the first RD fics I read when I first got into the fandom, and probably one of the best (definitely up there with Clipboard Notes, victor if you’re seeing this hi LOL) so I thought it would be nice to make a short comic of one of my favorite parts. More ramblings & bonus doodles under the cut :]
I started working on this about a month an a half ago, and initially I just wanted to work on this as a small silly wacky fanart project that was supposed to look more like this
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So like every sane artist I decided to make it harder for myself
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Also some unused sketches based on the Rollerdisco Rumble Reprise custom level by Kabii!
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These were my favorite panels during the sketching phase but I had to change the last couple panels to reference 2-3N instead because it made more sense timeline wise. Might render these someday tho because I'm still attached to them lmao
Last but not least shoutout to my discord friends for being there for my slow descent into madness (now if youll excuse me im going to go collapse now thank you for reading)
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enigmaticexplorer · 7 months
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Sometimes I have to remind myself I am, in fact, writing a fanfic and not a published book.
My story is slow-paced, and that’s okay.
My story isn’t commercially viable, and that’s okay.
My story isn’t comparable to published books, and that’s okay.
No one may read my story, and that’s okay.
I’m writing because I have a story to tell, and if the only person who hears that story is me, that’s okay.
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mewtwo365 · 1 year
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False Advertising
I can’t believe RE4 is nothing like the Masterpiece Theater episodes they were putting out. Where are all the rainbows??? (Check out the RE4 episodes they are really cute!)
Hope you enjoy this silly comic, and have an AWESOME day! and happy RE4MAKE release day!
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