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acianoh · 1 year
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I blame this post and ibuprofen.
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funkylilblob · 7 months
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good whatever time it is everybody. I like any normal person did not stay awake all night making new clone high ocs
Anyways here they are
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someone probably made these people into clone high characters before me and I could care less
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conflictedkismet · 1 year
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love reblogging Ester's more emotional posts. Surprise! You get an hour or so worth of this poor puppet struggling with themselves
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secsualtarot · 4 months
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PAC: WHAT'S SEXY ABOUT YOU?
What's sexy about you? 👀😳 Your personality traits and briefly about your sexiest physical attributes! 💅🏻💖 I posted the extended version on my Patreon which includes how to be sexier, what should you do to be more attractive 👀☕
Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at.
Rules & Disclaimers
Below 18 are minors, I follow my country's legal age
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Minors should not send me asks.
Minors do not interact with me or my tumblr.
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PILE 1
What’s sexy about you: 8 of Wands, The Tower Rx (Queen of Swords). 8 of Swords, The Lovers Rx. The Naked Self (23, Lilith in Leo), The Promise of Unending Love (19, Moon in Gemini)
8 of Wands didn’t exactly come out upright or reversed, it looked undecided. I do feel like you have this strong, fiery and determined energy in you that some people can sense, but the energy is not released into the world — not straightforwardly and openly, at least — it’s as if you (try your best to) keep it contained most of the time. This polarity gives you an unpredictable edge about you; like people don’t quite know what to expect, how or when the energy they are sensing will come out. It makes you feel a little dangerous and a magnet for curiosity; which is sexy.
People can also sense that you have a lot of things you keep inside, besides the determined energy. But you are not easily accessible. People feel like you are guarding your inner self and a wealth of love that you are capable of, you don’t give them access to these parts of you easily. Perhaps it’s because some of you have a tendency to pour yourself wholly into a connection once you let them in, hence why you are careful about it. Others of you have your guard up because there’s a part of you that is worried about risking your independence, or making yourself vulnerable to people (being harmed/hurt). But anyway, regardless of your reason, this whole thing does make you even more desirable, especially when you pour that love and focus into yourself instead of others. People can see that it exists, but it’s not quite for them.
Your determination and straightforwardness are sexy; when you pursue what you want, say what you think. You have this ability to push forward even when the odds are against you. Some of you may also have the ability to ‘demolish’ what other people have been preserving or holding onto (e.g. methods, habits, beliefs, etc; especially ones that are unsustainable), whether you do this intentionally or not. You can just go about your life, speaking your truth and minding your own business but it can have the effect of flipping someone’s world upside down. It’s not that you are doing it purposely to be destructive or malicious, you are probably simply too focused on your path. That uncaring quality is sexy to some people lol.
You don’t want other people to have that effect on your life however; your defence is quite high and you are strict about what/who you allow into your inner and private world. Defending your boundaries and peace makes you look sexy. It’s like you have hidden claws that come out when necessary. Some people notice that you consider consequences and impacts, and you are a caring person deep down. You just don’t show your naked soul to most people. As for the physical attributes; your chest is the sexiest part of your body, the slope of your neck, and the swell of your hips regardless of your body shape.
EXTENDED VERSION IS ON PATREON! Find out what you can do to be sexier and attract the people you want! 😈🔥
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PILE 2
What’s sexy about you: Queen of Pentacles, The Fool. King of Cups, The Hanged Man. The Lower and the Higher Self (13, Venus in Sagittarius).
You have duality to you, sides or qualities that may seem opposite on the surface but they blend well in your personality. You have a part of you that is more oriented toward stability and groundedness, comfort and sensuality, toward being and feeling secure and wanting to do the same for people you care about, or wanting to nurture the same feeling in your surroundings, that warmth, lowkey and detailed devotion that you carry with you — these make you look feminine and elegant.
But you also have a part of you that expands and moves outward, past the line of familiarity and stagnation, which is kinda the opposite of the first in some parts. You seek to follow your heart and free your soul, to be authentic and to search for higher meanings in life, to understand life with depths and philosophical insights. For many of you, this happens intellectually and spiritually. For some of you, it also happens literally, as in you are also open to travelling, open to interacting with people with different backgrounds and from all walks of life.
So basically, those two sides just make you seem like a good spouse material but also a dream — there’s a part of you that longs for adventure and expansion, there’s a part of you that is childlike, full of wonder and optimism which gives you this ‘a breath of fresh air’ vibe. Since you are open to a lot of things, your soul is limitless with regard to what it can be. It’s like the mix of two personalities or archetypes; the traditional type, and the dreamy, difficult-to-pin-down and evergrowing type. So in combination, these qualities just make you look desirable; not really coming across sexy in a sexual sense, but enchanting in a kinda fantasy-like way.
People also find your youthfulness attractive, your vibe I mean; your openness in your thinking and your softness. It’s like you flit through life, fluttering like a butterfly. Your caring nature and the fact that you consider the bigger things when you make a decision; like society, community, people as a whole — these make you desirable (sexy?), these make you seem like your heart is big, you are thoughtful and that your ability to care is endless. For some of you, you may also give off a submissive vibe and some people find this sexy. As for physical attributes; it’s more about the way you carry yourself and the clothes you wear. But for many of you, it’s your chest, your hair and when you show your skin.
EXTENDED VERSION IS ON PATREON! Find out what you can do to be sexier and attract the people you want! 😈🔥
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PILE 3
What’s sexy about you: 4 of Cups, Strength. 8 of Swords, 6 of Cups, The Devil. Secrets and Discoveries (22, Sun in Taurus).
The energy is a bit similar to Pile 1, so if you are attracted to that pile, this is probably the reason. This pile feels the opposite of Pile 1 though, like, there are similarities but some parts are the opposite. And this pile is calmer overall. What’s sexy about you is your self-control, particularly your ability to control or contain your emotions (or at least, this is how it seems from the outside). Some of you come across emotionally unavailable, whether you actually are or not. Which some people find sexy, it’s because of the whole ‘unattainable’ image that emotionally unavailable people tend to have.
But basically, it’s the aura of being emotionally controlled. You look like you have the ability to manage your own instinctive reactions, the ability to choose how to respond, you are someone who normally doesn’t act impulsively. Which is sexy. You also look like you are emotionally mature and sensible (especially those of you who aren’t actually emotionally unavailable), like someone who thinks before they speak and someone who says something with intention. People find your calm confidence and maturity sexy.
You are also someone who thinks about consequences and the future effects of something, which… probably contributes to why you control yourself. Your future orientation and wisdom make you look sexy, you think far and beyond, you look like you consider everything and pick the best way forward in whatever situation you are in. People think that this control is not coming from defensiveness or strict boundaries (unlike Pile 1), but it’s coming from the part of you that cares about your environment and people around you. It’s almost like you hold yourself back because you don’t want to hurt or harm, you don’t want to allow your emotions to control your behaviour and cause something negative to happen. Which is attractive and sexy.
People can sense there’s warmth underneath your control or whatever polished facade you show to the public; this side of you may come out now and then, hence why they know. But people also feel like they can’t really get a hold of it. Like, it’s not always available to be accessed, and some people may also wonder if the full extent of your warmth is only available to people who are closer to you, and if people who are closer to you are the only ones who can see your passionate side. Some people may also wonder how your self-control manifests in the context of sex, like, if it gives you good stamina or the ability to last long in bed, if you like sexual play that involves control like dominance or bondage. Which adds more to your sexy vibe; their fantasy or wonder adds to your intrigue.
As for physical attributes; I think it’s your posture, or this might sound weird but your bones… you know how some people look… compact? because of the size and shape of their bones. Particularly your shoulders and torso. Also your private part. Your entire naked body, really. If you work out, it’s your muscles. For some of you, your lack of facial expressions, you may be someone who isn’t emotionally expressive.
EXTENDED VERSION IS ON PATREON! Find out what you can do to be sexier and attract the people you want! 😈🔥
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PILE 4
What’s sexy about you: 9 of Swords, Queen of Pentacles Rx (5 of Wands Rx). 6 of Pentacles, 9 of Wands Rx (Page of Wands). Creating a New Self (25, Lilith in Libra).
I think your sexy qualities are not exactly coming from a healthy place, but the qualities are still sexy to some people simply because these people might have something they need to heal in themselves, or the qualities are just things they are attracted to, or they also have similar wounds. You know how some people are attracted to people who have been hurt and have gone through hardship? It’s like that. It’s probably the same reason why people love a fictional character with a tragic past. So your past experiences, the difficulties you went through, the past that you find hard to move on from — add to your sex appeal.
Some of you look put together, but people can still sense or see that you are protecting yourself, that you have learned to be strong for yourself and on your own, that there’s still a part of your stability (that you have been building or preserving) coming from a wound. This doesn’t really make you look insecure to these people; it just makes you look wounded yet strong in your own way. Which is sexy to some people. Some of you actually look like you want to give to someone, you have love or warmth to give but you are reluctant to do so. Some of you may also actually have a sad look or sad eyes. Sexy, but in a tortured or melancholic way, if that makes sense? Do you have Water influence? With Earth influence maybe? You have the potential for more, your inner child can be healed and come out again.
The whole thing just makes some people want to be the reason for your change, to help you move on and to help you grow and be who you have the potential to be. Like, they are the special or chosen one who can calm down your worry and be the source of your peace. So I think what you are lacking also adds to your intrigue and attractiveness; you may be lacking that emotional support or stability (or appear like you do), which causes you to be hesitant in moving forward. This is appealing to people who have a need to be needed, or people who think they are reliable and can be your support. Your traits aren’t things that everyone finds sexy, of course. Just a very specific group of people.
As for physical attributes; it’s your backside and your thighs. For some of you, your arms, especially your biceps. Fingers or hands (this may be something that specific admirers find sexy about you). Almost all the piles have messages about the chest area (for this pile, your cleavage especially if you have big breasts), which makes sense I guess since most of my audience are women.
EXTENDED VERSION IS ON PATREON! Find out what you can do to be sexier and attract the people you want! 😈🔥
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yunhoszn · 1 month
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PAIRING choi san x f!reader
WORD COUNT 3.37k
GENRES kinda fluff ig﹒smut
WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, friends to lovers, reader is lowkey down horrendous, but san is too i guess, um tbh this is just porn with minimal plot… 😭, reader gets jealous, Tension, i can’t think of anything else for the tame aspect so, making out, exhibitionism, soft dom!san, marking-ish, scratching, vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, they’re like kinda clumsy in the way that everything is a fucking joke to them, actually a lot of kissing, san’s a sweet talker, public sex, shower sex, unprotected sex (pls be safe), creampie, cutesy ending
SUMMARY it’s annoying that your gym partner constantly gets flirted with right in front of you, especially when you have a crush on said gym partner. good thing your gym partner has a crush on you, too.
MORE HELLO oh my god okay, this is my first written fic on this blog and im actually so nervous posting it… but fuck it! we ball! this wasn’t originally the first fic i was gonna post but,,, the other one is still marinating in the drafts so you get mr. choi san instead <3 ALSO THANK U SM FOR 100 FOLLOWERS HELLO. my blog is 2 weeks old that’s insanity 🤕 big thank u to the loml @kimsohn for betaing for me ilysm maya <<3 pls reblog if u enjoyed and pls moot me :( i need more atiny friends 💔
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“Wow, San, you’re so strong,”
You scoff to yourself as you watch the trio of girls surround him, dainty fingers touching anywhere they can. He laughs sheepishly, shifting his seat on the weight bench. You think it’s funny, really, the fact that he was eating up their attention and acting like he was so shy about it. He was supposed to be your gym partner. 
With a small grunt, you take the dumbbells in front of you and focus on your form in the mirror. You make attempt after attempt to ignore the commotion behind you, but ultimately fail. How could you not stare with all the obnoxious giggling? Even as you lunge, eyes zeroed in on the perfect 90° angle your legs make, you can still make out the group’s reflection in the mirror. 
Every drag of a manicured nail along his bicep, each twirl of hair, it was pissing you off. You had no real right to be mad, though. It’s not like San was your boyfriend or anything. You were just friends, and he’d volunteered to help you out when you mentioned struggling at the gym. What started as him spotting you when needed and giving tips to help improve your workouts, turned into waiting around for him to stop flirting with the girls who flocked over to him. 
Maybe you were being a bit dramatic. It’s not like this happened every time you came to the gym, but it was enough to be irritating. There was also a very high probability that it ticked you off so much because you had a crush on San yourself. Your infatuation was less superficial, however. Yes, he was an attractive man, that was one fact that couldn’t be refuted, but there was more to him than his big muscles and handsome face.
You’d known San since you met in your first year Anthropology course. This was way before he started hitting the gym and building his physique. He used to be this thin, pretty boy. Girls thought he was cute, but that was about it. No one was jumping at the chance to ask him out, or giggling at his every word. No one except for you.
He was not only cute, but he was sweet and funny and just about every good quality you could think of. You didn’t want to be one of those people who thought you were special because you knew him before his insane bodily transformation, though in a way you were. San was your good friend above anything else, and you had a fear instilled in you that that’s all he would ever be. The idea made your stomach churn.
”Do you think you could bench me?”
A sigh pushes past your lips when you see one of the girls get a little closer to him. You’re over working out at this point, ready to just call it a day and go home. What were you doing here if your partner was going to ignore you the entire time? You set the dumbbells back on their respective rack, grabbing your phone and water bottle while simultaneously turning up the volume on your headphones to drown out everything around you. 
You don’t bother telling San that you’re leaving, making your way into the changing rooms to grab the rest of your things from your locker. The frown etched onto your face as you do so serves as a reminder that he would never see you in that way. Perhaps you were perpetually stuck as the girl space friend. With a giant emphasis on the space. 
There’s a gentle grasp around your wrist, making you jump in surprise. You turn around with wide eyes, pushing your headphones off your ears. San stares back at you with an unreadable expression, lips slightly pursed.
”God, San, you almost gave me a heart attack,” you hold a hand to your chest, heaving up and down a little.
”I tried calling your name, but you didn’t hear me,” he shrugs, releasing your arm and shoving his hands into the pockets of his athletic shorts. “Why didn’t you tell me you were ready to leave?”
”You looked busy.” Really, you wanted to hide the jealousy and bitterness from your tone, but ultimately failed, even throwing in an unintentional scrunch of your nose. It feels like your heart dropped to your stomach, resembling a prey caught by its predator when you realize the connotation behind your words.
San smiles at you, a smug grin that’s so out of character for him, you’re a little nervous now. He takes a step forward and you back up until you reach the lockers, one of his hands coming up to rest on the surface near your head. A small chuckle breaches the sound barrier, his eyes drinking in your figure like he might never get the opportunity to do it again. “Y/N… are you jealous?”
Instinctively, you shake your head. What he doesn’t know can’t kill him. But then he’s raising an eyebrow in question and you feel like a puppy with its tail between its legs. You blink up at him, nails digging into your palms to keep your composure. “Should I be?”
His tongue darts out to wet his lips, that same cocky smirk on his features. He knows what he’s doing, you think to yourself. He has you cornered and he’s using it to his advantage. The hand that isn’t holding his weight comes up to your face, fingers gliding along your jaw with a feather light touch. “No, I don’t think so. The only girl who’s attention I really care about is right where I want her.”
Your breathing stutters, halting in your throat and momentarily winding you. Choi San might very well be the death of you. Especially with that darkened look in his eyes, the chocolate brown color now resembling the night sky. His thumb swipes across your lower lip, letting it resume its original place. “What do— what do you mean by that?”
He was giving you a bone, a hint that he could potentially feel the same as you, but you wanted to hear him say it. You wanted the words to leave his mouth and verbally confirm that for you. Want wasn’t even good enough. You needed it. 
“There’s no way you don’t know,” San says, voice hushed. “No way that you don’t know how badly I’ve wanted you since first year.”
Something similar to a choked groan departs from you, your pulse racing in your ears, thumping beneath your chest. You’re too stunned to move, frozen in your spot in case this is all some fucked up dream. It doesn’t even occur to you that someone could walk in, doesn’t even cross your mind that you’re in too public of a setting for this conversation or where it could go. 
“I don’t— I didn’t…” Your eyes attempt to stay on his, but keep flickering down to his mouth. 
“It was so hard for me to play nice guy for so long,” he whispers, a pout adorning his expression. “And today? I couldn’t even stare at you shamelessly because of those damn girls. It’s so fucking annoying when they bother me while I’m trying to flirt with you. But since I’m Nice Guy San, I can’t be rude.”
“You flirt with me?” You snort, your shell shock wearing off and a goofy smile worming its way onto your face. He laughs along with you, tilting away to hide the warmth blooming on his cheeks. The tension is still present, but it’s a lot more bearable.
”I guess I’m not very good at it if you couldn’t even tell,” he glances down at his feet, the confident San from before long gone and now replaced by a bashful version. “Am I going crazy, or is this gonna go somewhere? I don’t want to misread anything and ruin what we already have. The ball is entirely in your court.”
It’s your turn to be shy, shrinking in on yourself slightly. Acknowledging that you had feelings for San was a separate can of worms. There was a big difference between him confessing to you and vice versa. You know if given the stage, you’d just start blabbering on and on about how you feel for him, and that would just be embarrassing for both of you. So instead you say, “Can I show you?”
When he nods, your fingers raise to his jaw, cupping it gently as you lean up. Your lips brush his softly, barely grazing them. His eyes flutter shut, a shiver running down his spine simply from your kiss. A pleasant buzz courses through your veins from your lips to the tips of your fingers. You’ve wanted this forever, you don’t think you could ever go back.
You pull back and San fists the fabric of your t-shirt on your waist, eyes still closed as he chases your mouth. “Fuck, Y/N, can I kiss you again?”
“Please,” you whine, enveloping your lips with his as soon as you get the green light. This time is desperate, noses bumping each other. You’re going lightheaded and dizzy, already intoxicated by him. Your back presses into the lockers behind you, arching into his chest for more. 
He deepens the kiss and it’s almost too much. You’re overwhelmed by the emotions taking control of you, not at all prepared for what would come with actually being with San. It had always been a distant fantasy, something that felt so completely out of reach that you didn’t dare let yourself indulge in the notion for too long. The way his lips lock with yours, fluidly and synchronously like missing pieces of a puzzle, you think you can die happily. 
“As hot as it would be to fuck you right here, I’d rather not get kicked out of this gym,” he chuckles breathlessly. “And since we’re both sweaty from working out, I think we could use a shower. Don’t you?”
You leave a kiss on the corner of his mouth, nodding frantically at his suggestion. Though you imagined your first time with San being in a bed, slow and sensual, you’d be so stupid to complain about this. Fucking in one of the gym showers, where anyone could hear you? Go big or go home. 
He scopes the area to ensure the coast is clear before hauling you into one of the stalls, dragging the curtain shut. You kiss roughly between removing articles of clothing, San turning on the water while his lips make quick work of your neck. Goosebumps form on your skin when the cool water hits it, your fingers combing through his wet hair as he sucks harsh marks into your collarbone and sternum. 
“You’re so gorgeous, babe,” he mutters into your skin, nipping lightly at the tops of your tits. One of his hands travels south, sliding through your folds with ease. He rubs tight circles into your clit, prodding at your entrance with his ring finger. “I need you to cum for me once before I fuck you for real, okay?”
“Mhm,” you moan quietly, hiking one of your legs around his waist. His finger pushes inside you to the knuckle and then curls. Your eyes all but roll to the back of your head, back arching off of the tiled wall. “Feels so good, San…”
“Yeah?” He smiles against your skin, trailing pecks up your neck and along your jawline. You whimper in his ear, cunt sucking in his finger greedily. He adds a second, the middle one, and applies pressure to your clit with the heel of his palm. The sight of you falling apart by his hand alone is sending blood rushing to his brain. 
Your body feels hot to the touch, risking a downwards glance at where his fingers disappear into your pussy. It forces another whine out of you, your head tossing back. You tug at the strands of hair that stick to the nape of his neck, steeling yourself the only way you can in this position. San just seemed to know you, to know exactly what you needed without you having to tell him. Either he was really good at guessing, or everything he did seemed to be perfect, because you’ve never climbed to the summit this quickly before. 
There’s a knot in the pit of your stomach that weaves itself tighter and tighter with each curl of his digits and each swirl of his thumb on your clit. You think you could cry from how attentive he was, from how determined he was to provide you pleasure. Your cunt contracts around his fingers, and he can sense the precipice of your orgasm, speeding up his pace. 
You squirm around in his hold, allowing him to spread apart your thighs so he can brush the pads of the digits buried inside of you up against that spongy sweet spot. You’re trembling now, nearing the edge of that familiar cliff. “San, baby, I’m— god— I’m so close,”
“Let go for me, my love.” He coos into the corner of your mouth, hushing your moans. He doesn’t slow his assault, inching you further and further towards your release like it was his own personal mission. That knot in your belly begins to unravel until it slips through your grasp completely, your orgasm rocking into you like a tidal wave. 
San aids you as you ride out your high, already spent before he’s even gotten the chance to be inside of you. He kisses you tenderly, pulling out his fingers with caution since you were still so sensitive. Your nails claw down his front, scratching his abdomen with a purpose. He shudders beneath you, lips curling up into another soft smile. 
“What?” You ask with a giggle, mirroring his expression when he wipes water from your face. 
“Nothing,” he shakes his head, grin unwavering. “You just look really pretty like this.”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to get into my pants, Choi San.” You tease, yanking him down for a saccharine kiss. He reciprocates without hesitation, drawing his palm on your thigh so he can wrap it around his waist again. 
“Me? Never…” He laughs along your mouth. “Is it working, though?”
You roll your eyes playfully, reconnecting your lips. “Are you gonna fuck me for real now?”
“What kinda question is that?” He glides the tip of his cock between your folds, shutting you up instantaneously. He’s heavy where he sits, slipping the shaft through your lower lips. “I’m gonna fuck you so good, you forget where you are, baby.”
Before you can even let out another sound of appreciation, he’s stretching you out, cock thrusting up into your pussy without warning. You jump up a bit to hook your other leg around his hips so he’s supporting your whole weight. The new angle makes it easier for him to delve deeper in your cunt, his dick accessing places you’d never knew existed. 
After he’s sure you’ve adjusted to his length, he starts to move, pistoning in and out of you much more forcefully than he did with his fingers. Your lips part for a voluminous moan, but then you hear a group of loud girls entering the shower area and San slaps a hand over your mouth. He makes no effort to stop, fucking into you without a single care for the people on the other side of the shower curtain. 
“Did any of you see where San went? He disappeared so fast.” 
You recognize the voice as belonging to one of the girls who was openly flirting with San while you were working out. Not even needing to see her, you can picture the exaggerated pout on her face based on her tone alone. 
“He probably followed after that stupid bitch he’s always with.”
Your half lidded eyes meet San’s but he still pays no mind to them, digging his nails into your plush thighs. He pulls all the way out, just to slam his cock all the way back in. His pace leisures, but his power doesn’t, abusing your cunt with every snap of his hips. 
“I think I’m gonna ask him out next time I see him. I have to stake my claim before someone else does.”
He holds back a laugh, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You drown out their conversation after that, too focused on the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls so deliciously to even worry about those idiot girls. Little did they know he was closer than they thought…
Thankfully, they leave not much longer after that, and he uncovers your mouth. You gasp for air, panting feverishly when he picks up his speed again. Your bottom lip quivers with a whine, too fucked out to conjugate words that make sense. 
“You’re taking me so well, baby. Taking me like a fucking princess,” San praises. He groans, water droplets slipping along the valleys of his sculpted chest and abdomen. It drips with every roll of his hips and every thrust of his cock into your pussy. This was what he had been building up to, what he’d been dreaming of for years. “Who’s fucking you like this?”
“Mmm,” you moan, supping him in deeper, further, as cavernous as humanly possible. “You, San— fuck— y-you are.”
You arch your back, sneaking a hand in the middle of the two of you and pressing the pads of your fingers harshly on your clit when you do so. San holds you closer to him so your pelvic bones nearly clash each time he punches into you. The change in depth that he fucks you has your cunt squelching, any semblance of coherent thought escaping you. 
Your vision goes blank, stars decorating the backs of your eyelids as your second orgasm blindsides you. Not a sound leaves you after it knocks into you, cumming with so much force you think you might pass out in San’s arms. When you’ve finished, you let out a guttural groan, walls fluttering around his cock. 
“Gonna cum— shit— where do—“ you interrupt him with a whimper. 
“Cum inside of me,” your begging tone has him spilling into you practically on command. He fills you up perfectly, a moan from deep within him reaching your ears. You both stay like that for a moment, skin sticking to the other’s due to the thin sheen of sweat coupled with the steam of the shower coating your bodies. 
You can feel the rise and fall of his chest when he breathes, one of your hands coming up to caress his back gently. He pulls out with a wince, palms resting on either side of you as he recuperates. He breathes through his nostrils, forehead glued to your shoulder. His hands rub up and down your sides soothingly. 
“It’s safe to assume you’re gonna turn that girl down when she asks you out, right?” You ask suddenly, attempting to diffuse whatever’s in the air between you now. San laughs into your shoulder. 
“Y/N, I’m turning down any girl who asks me out from now on,” he stands upright, biting his lip before kissing you gently. “I don’t think my girlfriend would appreciate that very much.”
You raise an eyebrow at him. “Girlfriend?”
“Am I being too overzealous?” His nose scrunches up. 
“You’re being the right amount of zealous, I think,” you brush away a strand of wet hair that falls into his eyes. “But I think your ‘girlfriend’ would like it if you actually asked her to be your girlfriend.”
Choi San is the prettiest man you’ve ever set your sights on, but somehow, he looks even prettier smiling down at you after having sex with you in a gym shower. It’s a feat that should be considered illegal, and you should receive restitution for the distress it’s caused on your heart. 
“Will you be my girlfriend, Y/N?”
And well, maybe you’d deal with that later. It was kind of difficult to ignore that sparkle in his eyes, especially when it was directed at you. You nod without a second thought. 
“I would love nothing more.”
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© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost. 
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vanteguccir · 1 month
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Let's trade shoes | Matt Sturniolo
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Matt Sturniolo x reader
Summary: Where Y/N feels pain in her feet from wearing high heels for hours, and Matt gives her his sneakers to wear.
Warning: None.
Requested?: Yes, by anon.
Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
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From an outsider's perspective, the dynamics of the relationship between Y/N and Matt were incredible and unique. The two had their hearts overflowing with love, and they were not ashamed to show it.
Nick joked that the five love languages ​​were few compared to all the ways they loved each other.
But it was safe to say that out of the five, the one that was most part of their daily lives was the language of acts of service, precisely because of their busy schedules and daily tasks.
Matt would do absolutely anything to make his girlfriend's day easier, from turning on the coffee maker in the morning while she took her sacred morning shower, to combing and drying her hair after she washed it. He is always watching her from afar, making little mental notes of new things she does, so he learns and fits them into his routine so that he can help her in the future.
And Y/N isn't far behind, knowing how heavy the routine of recording three times a week can be - sometimes more, when the triplets need to catch up on some podcasts or car videos -, she always comes forward to help his day get lighter, from starting the car in the garage on cold days so the engine is ready when Matt gets in it, to helping him shower after a tiring day, washing his hair with his favorite shampoo while watching him nap in the warm water of the bathtub.
It was Thursday, and Matt and Y/N were leaving yet another weekly date night.
Matt and Y/N had created a habit almost a year back that, every Thursday after the triplets recorded the car video that would be posted the next day, they would have a date night, with the aim of always dedicating quality time together and cultivate a healthy relationship.
Y/N mentally cursed herself for her choice of shoes that night, having opted for high heels.
Don't get me wrong, the girl loved wearing heels and always felt prettier in them; Besides Matt, who was completely in love with the way his girlfriend's legs looked in heels, he said that they looked longer and more appealing, leaving him drooling and staring more than usual.
But if there's one thing they both knew, it was that when Y/N wore high heels for long hours, she always ended up with pain in her feet.
And that was exactly what was happening at that moment, the girl had been wearing those heels on her feet for about three hours and her toes were starting to hurt, squeezed by the front strap, while her heel screamed with every step she took.
It didn't take Matt long to notice her face contorted in pain and how she squeezed his hand - which was intertwined with her own - with every step they took.
The two were walking through the streets of the restaurant where they had dinner, observing the various restaurants and bars open, full of people of all types and music of all tastes, while chatting a bit about their day. This meant they were far from the car, and it would be at least a 10-minute walk to get back to it.
Therefore, Matt abruptly stopped in his tracks as they approached a wooden bench, followed by Y/N, who watched him with a confused expression.
"What is it, baby?" She asked worriedly, traveling her eyes down the street briefly, trying to find what could have made her boyfriend stop so suddenly.
Matt knelt on the sidewalk and removed his sneakers from both his feet, keeping his socks on.
"What the hell are you doing? Are you crazy?" The girl looked down at him, watching him with a frown.
"Sit here, baby. Please." Matt asked, standing up on his socks and pointing to the bench, taking Y/N's right hand and helping her sit down on the wooden surface. "Give me your foot." He kneeled on the ground, placing his sneakers near her feet and reaching his hands towards his girlfriend's right foot.
"What? Why?" She asked, eyes wide, feeling cimpletely lost, bending her body slightly forward so that she brought her face closer to his, a sound of pain escaping her lips from the movement.
"You're in pain, my love. Come on, give me your foot. I'll give you my sneakers." Matt explains, touching Y/N's right ankle and pulling lightly.
He raised his blue eyes, looking into his girl's eyes, staring at her so that she understood that he wasn't open for arguments.
Y/N sighed before resting her left hand on the cold and hard surface, lifting her right ankle so that her foot was off the ground. Matt unfastened the buckle on her high heel, leaving it on the sidewalk on his side before reaching for his right sneaker, fitting it onto Y/N's foot with ease.
He untied the shoelaces and tied them again so that they were firmer, knowing that they were bigger than Y/N's feet and could escape with her steps.
The girl kept her eyes on Matt the entire time, feeling her heart speed up more and more and her skin heat up, taking on a reddish tone. She didn't deserve him. He was so kind to her.
Matt carefully lowered the foot he was holding, waiting for her to steady it on the ground before taking her left ankle, doing the same process as before.
When Y/N had both feet inside Matt's white sneakers, the boy adjusted his posture, still crouched, so that he could fit his feet one at a time into the high heels, leaving them unbuckled due to the difference in size, knowing that if he closed it, he could ruin them.
Matt slowly stood up, regaining his balance on the pair of heels that he wasn't used to wearing before intertwining his left hand with Y/N's right, helping her stand up. He briefly adjusted the strap of the black sparkly purse on his left shoulder.
"I can't believe you're doing this." The girl commented as the two walked back to the car, a laugh escaping her throat as she shook her head, watching the wobbly steps her boyfriend took.
"I won't let my princess feel pain. And I didn't want to get dirt on my socks from this sidewalk. Our washing machine thanks us for that." Matt responded with a smile on his face, watching his girlfriend's reaction from the corner of his eye, keeping his focus on his steps in order not to fall.
"I love you, Matt." Y/N squeezed his hand lightly, massaging the soft skin with her thumb.
"I love you more, my love." The boy responded quickly, returning the squeeze.
He let go of his girlfriend's hand as they reached his car, opening the purse on his shoulder and looking for the key, before unlocking the doors, opening the passenger seat for his girlfriend.
Y/N smiled in gratitude, approaching Matt and sealing her lips over his cheek chilled by the cold of the night, stroking the soft skin with the tip of her nose before taking a step away, finally getting into the car.
She felt her heart warm with love while observing him walk around the front of the car with slow steps. She knew that there was nothing in the world he wouldn't do to make her happy and comfortable.
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My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all 🩷💋
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~ taglist:
@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore
(If you want to be added to the taglist, comment here, please)
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dxstopiaa · 10 months
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Impetous Injuries
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Synopsis: Caring for an irresponsibly injured man was not on your plan for today, so why was he at your door?
Characters: Morax, Xiao, Childe and Scaramouche x Fem! Reader!
Warnings: Zhongli as an archon and Scaramouche as fatui again, Childe’s part has angst/comfort. description of injuries and trauma. ♡´・ᴗ・`♡ [i needed to post something sfw and clear my drafts! <3]
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Morax
It wasn’t every day that you’d hear the hasty pummel of closed fists against your front door and even rarer was it to witness one of the Seven requesting for your help— a meagre goddess who tried to live a tranquil, joyous life to the best of her ability.
“I fear i may of overestimated myself, dear.” Morax’s throaty voice could be made out from behind the door, notably lower in volume. Neither was this the first time, yet something felt different than usual. Of course, the archaic god was prone to injury in battle, but upon opening the door, he was more maimed than you had thought.
Brunette strands of hair plastered to his chest and forehead—covered in elemental ichor and sweat. His limbs were littered in a spectrum of wounds, bruises and incisions alike. His robes of ivory reduced to scraps of crimson-dyed fabric, blood from who knows where drenched his torso.
In short, you were responsible for an Archon who had gotten himself too deep into bloodlust. As always. Your lips pressed together before you let out a displeased hum. You just wished he would of cared for himself better.
“Morax…are you even aware of the severity of your injuries? Thank Celestia no one had attacked you on the way here!” You scolded, arms crossed as an attempt to look irked enough for the irresponsible man to come to his long-lost senses.
Though to him, you just looked adorable, he had always been fond of your gentle heart in the midst of a war. Therefore, Rex Lapis knew you valued him too much to leave him isolated in the dangerous depths of the night, entering your abode and placing a bloodstained hand on your pretty face. You didn’t grimace from his touch.
“I’m truly sorry, but you’re the only one i can trust with healing, my goddess.” You felt your knees buckle at the endearment, rather embarrassed that such a high-status being was addressing you as superior. He just never learns, does he?
“Please stop the flattery, my Lord. Instead, follow me so i can actually treat you.” Another exasperated sigh from your lips, you gently held his finger and guided him to the steaming bath, collecting all relevant tonics and herbs in your store room and returning back to the wounded god.
Your heart lept in your chest seeing this he was, quite literally, already fully undressed. Oh, so shamelessness was another quality he lacked? It most certainly didn’t help that he could barely even fit his tall frame into the jade tub, glowing aureate arms casually resting on the outskirts of the container. You felt your mind begin to wander as did your trail of vision.
“Ah, my injuries are starting to sting slightly—Hm? What has you so timid?” Morax’s tone felt unfamiliar to you, seeing the God of contracts so relaxed might of stunned you beyond repair. You dismissed yourself, dampening a medicated towel and wiping it gently over his chiseled chest—as calmly as one could in such a predicament.
Grunts and groans followed with some obscenities of his at the stinging serums painted your cheeks scarlet. Genuine or not, you didn’t think you could hold your composure for another minute. Even worse— the youthful archon wouldn’t remove his piercing critical gaze from your face, analysing every single movement in your expression.
“Admire me and my lips all you’d like afterwards, but i’m in a dire condition at the moment, dearest.”
“It’s not like that, Morax! Halt such talk and stay quiet whilst i treat you! Please!”
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Xiao
Stubborn.
The quality that the Yaksha had always been described as. Especially by you. Yet he never listened to your pleads to let you help him.
Xiao hesitantly loitered around the door to your estate, a gloved hand lingering on the doorknob for longer than it should have. He’s been doubting his feelings of just ‘friendship’. He’s seen human couples— so loving and expressive it squeezes his heart in a manner so painful, you deserved better than a man who didn’t even think to enter your home, so he discarded his thought.
Especially one who would turn up with blood around his clothes, a deep wound on his side too.
Just as he contemplated leaving, the wooden barrier inched open. You held a miniature basket, a lengthy list in the other. Xiao was keen to disappear at that moment. Despite this, you were quick to drop them both to encase the adeptus in a tight embrace.
“Xiao!” An excited exclamation from you as you rested your cheek against his shoulder. Had you noticed his injuries at all, or was it pure blinded excitement to greet him? Crimson still trickled down his abdomen, but you had wrapped your arms around his waist.
A surge of pain and discomfort flashed through his body— he couldn’t stop the loud gasp he let out when your arm grazed his injury.
“Agh!” Xiao cried out, causing you to recoil back into place upright upon the doorstep. Your delicate features morphed into a state of horror whilst he stumbled back. Your sleeves were coated with vermillion fluid, eyes fluttering to the yaksha’s expression and back to your stained clothing.
“This isn’t anything major, i’ll leave myself to treat it—” You barely let the usually vigilant adeptus finish his sentence before grabbing his wrist and pulling him close gently, barricading him from vanishing into a flurry of karmic debt.
“No. I can’t let you go until you’ve recovered well, you can barely walk upright Xiao!” You smoothed your thumb over his cheek tenderly, distracting him that you were, in fact, taking him inside into the safety of your abode.
The adeptus’ face was warm— tentatively watching your own lips so close to his. Your kindness was irreplaceable, your heart was too soft for his liking, but he’s never once felt unwelcome in your presence. Xiao had witnesses the false sympathy humans showed off towards him, yet you’ll always be willing to listen.
Now you’re treating his wounds? Why are you doing this?
“I’m running out of my medicine, i’ll visit Bubu Pharmacy later, just have these now, please?” You offered, suddenly noticing the flush over his cheeks. Maybe he has a fever too? He accepted the concoction of herbs, hesitantly consuming the mixture. Xiao, having noticed your obvious staring at his chest, shifted around in his seat.
“Xiao…?” Archons, he just looked so anxious it’s endearing, you’d hate to push him from his comfort zone but he hasn’t got much of a choice.
“Yes?”
“You’re going to have to…remove your shirt—” You meekly stated, ashamedly hanging your head down at your lap as he cleared his throat numerous times. That just sounded so disrespectful! What if he took it the wrong way? You resided within the embarrassing realm of overthinking.
“As you wish, but be quick, i’d rather not have you ogling me.”
“I do not!”
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Childe
Two in the morning.
That was the time your beloved decided to show up— weak, timid thumps of his open palm across the wooden barrier. Childe knew he had already messed up, clenching his jaw with anxious anticipation. What would you say? Yesterday, tired tears flowed down your cheeks. It hurt him to leave his care in your hands rather than his own. Would you do anything at all? Would you leave him lonely in the cold?
The harbinger’s questions were answered for him. Your body slumped over, distress tugged at your eyebrows. You stared at every injured limb of his.
Merciless splotches of the infamous crimson liquid matched his scarf, ripped and loosely tied against his thigh. A tourniquet, ideal for hiding the severity of the injury below it. His bruised skin was as lifeless as the pale snow cascading to the floor, where his eyes stayed put. A classic snezhnayan man fitting right into his war-strife homeland. If it wasn’t his own blood, it was the metallic scent of other’s. The unpleasant smell was overpowering, that migraine of yours worsening and nausea invading your stomach.
You remained blank and wordless, firmly securing one of his least injured arms over your shoulders and guiding him to the armchair. Childe hated seeing you like this— yet he never changed his ways. He didn’t know what hurt more, the pre-assembled medical kit laying on the side cabinet, or the two cold dishes set upon the dining table that went uneaten from hours ago. He messed up, for sure.
“Darling…Please, say something.” Tartaglia breathily beseeched, clasping a wounded hand over yours. You shook him off. You yourself didn’t know what you were feeling. Shock? Well, this was the third time this week, so no. Hurt? Something deeper than that.
“Say what? Childe, you just never learn!” Your sudden outburst made him flinch, and your heart panged with guilt—yet it was never strong enough to overcome your fury.
“Two days ago you arrived with major burns, the next with a broken wrist and today barely making it alive? Tomorrow will you even come back to me? Or will your coworkers deliver me your death instead?” Your tears swelled up in your eyes, distracting him from you by pressing the antiseptic towel against his stab wounds.
Childe hissed, unsure if the sting was from your harsh words or from the medication. His heart felt as if someone had squeezed it tight, the truth pained him to hear, especially from his wife’s mouth. He had kept you up for so long, losing your rest and throwing you into an abyss of constant worry. He deserved it. How could he ignore you?
“Love, i’m so sorry, i beg you, you can do anything to me. Ignore me, hate me or punish me for all i care, just don’t leave me alone…please.” His cerulean eyes held no lies, staring into your distant ones with desperate longing.
He clinged onto your torso, near sobbing into the crook of your neck. The frantic nature of his words broke your trance, anger dissipating with each tear of your own. Soon enough, your arms instinctively raised to wrap him in your embrace. Staying infuriated with him was futile.
His half-conscious pleads ceased as he calmed down, exhaustion catching up to the young Harbinger. You combed his matted tresses with your fingers, pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead to lull him into comfort.
“I’m sorry, Childe, just take better care of yourself, okay?” You reassured, his confirmation in response felt real this time. He rested his heavy head in your lap, enjoying the warmth of your hand on his cheek.
Your husband wouldn’t give up your company for the world—if he had to cease his pursuit of strength for you, he’d do it in a heartbeat.
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Scaramouche
“What, are you just going to stand there staring at me? Let me in.”
A rude introduction from an even more arrogant man. Scaramouche stood lazily upright at the entrance to your estate, somehow expecting you to take him in your arms and nourishment. Expecting you not to question him. Too bad you did just that.
“Yes, i will. Care to explain why you’re here?” You scoffed in an equally aggressive manner. Your eyes trailed up his legs and waist, exposed and bruised— if that was possible for a puppet. Nothing spilled from said wounds, but the Harbinger discreetly winced from the pain. He remained there silent, opting not to share any details.
“Shut up, this isn’t my fault.” Scaramouche almost yelled, his unexpected outrage igniting irritation through your body.
Oh? You clenched your teeth together in frustration. Your grasp on the doorknob was deathly, you were in no mood to deal with his attitude nor his own problems. “Then this isn’t my concern.”
And with that, you forced the door shut— well, as far as you could. Scaramouche pushed the door open with his foot and arm, a look of disbelief and confusion gleamed in his eyes. How dare you? Those words he wanted to spit at you, but all that fell was a single word.
“Wait!” The harbinger exclaimed, forcing his way through the gap in door. He couldn’t believe himself. First, he dared to show up to your house and now he’s begging for your help? He felt pathetic, truly.
Resistance was pointless against him. Letting your ex-boyfriend back into the very same house he’d swear he’d never step into again. But being ruthlessly ignorant was his characteristic, not yours. Scaramouche had obviously forfeited whatever ego he latched onto— you weren’t that cruel as to leave an injured man by himself.
“I’m sorry, alright? I shouldn’t of been so blunt.” His head, for once, was inclined towards the wooden floor, indigo eyes barely meeting yours. It was an apology nonetheless. “I mean, for everything, even for how i acted before.”
Scaramouche was…genuine? Bewilderment accumulated within your judgement, your heart softened. You knew this feeling— you knew you shouldn’t be feeling sympathetic for the harbinger you used to love so dearly, the man who left you without a valid answer. It couldn’t be helped.
The more that Scaramouche longingly gazed at you, the more he desired to be kept in your arms just like he used. His cold exterior melted away like treaded snow, instead your footsteps trampled over it. He couldn’t justify the guilt-ridden sensation plucking away at each inch of his body. He found himself on that day, emotional, again.
Scaramouche doesn’t act like this. Kunikuzushi does.
If he had to surrender his dignity to take you back as his, he’ll do it, just this once. His fingers, still blistered and scarred from earlier yet appearing so delicate on his porcelain skin grazed your jaw. Soft touches and gestures lulled him into safety within your embrace. An action he missed far too much.
Kunikuzushi latched tightly onto you in his mindless stupor of mental and physical distress, not coming to terms with he consequences of his behaviour later on. You found his conduct abnormal—  if it was fear of losing you again, or simple loss of informed conscious, you wouldn’t know.
Raised, superficial gashes of violet and burgundy littered his pained countenance. You never thought that wounds could look as pretty as his. Not a single tear was shed for a vessel such as he, but his grasp on you slipped once the puppet fell into a peaceful slumber.
With your heedful care and more ointments than preferred, he had recovered by the next morning and those surreal memories wafted back to him. Two sentences wavered in his mind.
“Don’t disregard my words from yesterday, i meant it. Whether you accept it, it’s up to you…”
“…If it results in less harm for you, i’ll listen to those words from my mouth thousands of times over.”
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artdotpage · 5 months
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Problems facing modern artists & creators
I've talked with hundreds of artists and creators about the difficulties they face trying to earn a living from their craft.
This post covers two of the big ones (social media algorithms & bargain basement marketplaces), and what tools are available to grow your business despite these issues.
Social Media Algorithms and Audience Ownership
Social media platforms are a godsend for getting your work in front of potential clients and building a loyal fan base.
However as you will all have experienced, it can take a mastermind to figure out what kind of content the algorithm wants you to post, and if you don't do that you'd be as well throwing your content into the void as even your own followers might not see your post, never mind new viewers.
It also means you don't truly own your audience, if you post something slightly controversial your account could be deleted without warning, or perhaps a billionaire buys the site and everyone flocks to a new platform where you have to start growing your following all over again.
Solution: Build a mailing list
This is perhaps the single best marketing tool available to any business, and is sorely overlooked by artists and creators.
It's cost effective and because you own your mailing list it doesn't matter what's happening on social sites, you can always keep in touch with them.
The tricky part is converting people into mailing list subscribers. However I've seen plenty of creators successfully build one by offering incentives including free digital downloads, early access to content, discounts on your store etc.
Those who sign up to your mailing list would be considered high quality followers, someone who is much more likely to convert to a paid client and buy from you again in the future compared to the average follower on social media.
Tools
https://art.page/
https://substack.com/
https://convertkit.com/
Losing clients to undercutting competitors on the same platform/marketplace
If you run your business on a marketplace or platform, your clients are one click away from finding plenty of other choices who are willing to undercut everyone else to land a sale.
These sites have no incentive to make sure that traffic you drive to your profile actually purchase from you. Whether a sale is made through your listing or another seller, they collect their fee either way.
They also use uniform designs which reduce you to a generic product listing. Whilst this can simplify the customer experience, it means you have no control over the sales funnel and ability to differentiate yourself, making it harder to convert potential clients into paying customers.
Solution: Direct clients to your own site
Use your own personal website to make sales from, there are plenty of options with no monthly charge and lower fees than marketplaces. This lets you make dedicated marketing pages showcasing your best work to make a client excited about doing business with you, instead of just being a generic product listing.
Take advantage of marketplaces purely for their customer base. Don't rely on them as your sole business platform. This way, any fees you pay are worthwhile to generate sales you wouldn't have had otherwise. 
Tools
https://art.page/
https://www.bigcartel.com/
https://squareup.com/
Interested in more?
There's plenty more I have to share on this topic, including:
How to properly use Print on Demand without getting ripped off
Streamline managing your business so you spend more time creating and growing your business.
How to better utilize your brand to connect with clients and increase sales
So let me know if you’re interested and I’ll get writing!
Transparency
I'm building https://art.page to solve these exact issues, with the goal to create the best all in one site builder for artists and creators that makes running your business easy.
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spideyheart · 10 months
Text
boundless
chapter one — along came a spider.
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series masterlist. | next chapter. →
pairing: miguel o’hara x female!reader
series synopsis: The fabric of the universe wasn’t something to be messed with. You and Miguel learned that the hard way.
chapter summary: You weren’t expecting to run into the person who had been following you from universe to universe for the past six months in a dirt cheap bar. You also weren’t expecting him to be attractive and insanely fun to mess with.
includes: 2.4k words. possible spoilers. slow burn! references to your universe being destroyed, themes of guilt for being the cause of that destruction. tons of banter & flirting (you rlly like testing this man). you talk a little too much, he doesn't talk enough. suggestive humor. also posted on ao3!
miguel o’hara masterlist. | gif credit. | AO3 mirror.
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The sky was crumbling. The faces of the people you loved were being wiped from existence. The distant sound of their helpless screams tore through your flesh and bones.
You watched your world turn to dust from afar– horrified, paralyzed, knowing only one thing for certain: it was all your fault.
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EARTH-928 — NUEVA YORK
The bar was poorly lit, with neon colors and electronic music breathing it to life. The stench of liquor was pungent in the hot air.
You found it funny how the artificial joy of nightlife still bled into the year 2099.
It was a room full of smiling people, all swaying to the beat, feeling the music pump energy into their bodies, but everyone came here to get away from something.
Everyone was running. But maybe not as literally as you were.
Reaching for the purple ink pen in your coat pocket, you looked down at your well-used (you preferred the term well-loved) notepad next to your untouched glass of whatever low-quality, dirt cheap alcohol this Earth had to offer and sighed. 
You flipped to a new page and jotted down ‘Nueva York’ at the very top, bulleting a list of unique characteristics this dimension had.
The future ( My future? Their present? I really need to stop giving myself migraines. )
The year is 2099
Insane Tech ( pretty sure I saw a flying car )
People speak English here, but there is a clear diversity in language. ( I’ve picked up Spanish the most so far, but other languages are probably no less common. Multilingualism for the win! )
The clank of a glass on the polished countertop next to you snapped you back into reality. 
You eyed the person who was making themselves comfortable on the barstool next to yours. He was a tall man, one that easily towered over you even when sitting. 
The flashing lights of the bar backlit his slicked-back hair and high cheekbones, his expression was flat, eyes on his own drink.
Your stare then dragged across his shoulders. 
Wow, door-frames must hate him.
The thought made you chuckle internally and smile to yourself as you closed your notepad discreetly.
“Those are some interesting findings, Doctor.”
You felt your heart drop. So much for discretion.
Clearing your throat, you decided to play dumb.
“Who says I’m a doctor?”
“Maybe not the medical kind, but I’d assume it takes a vast knowledge of quantum mechanics to make all those multiversal jumps, no?”
Shit.
Well, you couldn’t play dumb anymore. He knew too much. You attempted to keep your cool as the realization hit you like a semi truck. This was the other jumper, the one who had been following you for for the past six months.
What does he want? 
The thought frightened you more than you’d care to admit. But if he was here to bring you to face justice, then so be it.
You picked up your undrunk glass and spun your wrist slowly, letting the liquid inside swirl around.
“I’ll have you know my doctorate was in genetics and genomics, physics was more of a hobby.”
It was Peter’s life, though.
“Ah, a fellow geneticist.”
He was stalling. You were growing impatient.
You set your glass down with one swift movement.
“God, just do us both a favor and arrest me already.”
Your voice was exhausted, the tiredness from running and trying to find a new place to call home with no avail evident. This way of living was draining, hopping from one dimension to another. 
Two years spent stealing new clothes to blend in with locals. Seeing the faces of the people you had loved living alternate lives, unknowing of the fact that you had murdered another version of them. Doing everything you could to not seem like an outsider when that’s exactly who you were and what you always would be.
There was no home for you. Not anymore. And as much as it hurt, you had to live with that.
It was your fault, after all.
You held both your wrists out dejectedly.
However, when you didn’t feel the clamp of cool metal around your wrists, you spared a glance upward, only to be greeted by the man slowly raising a judgmental brow before pushing your arms down.
“Arrest you?” He asked, his voice laced with confusion.
“Yes? Aren’t you from some sort of glorified multiverse police force that’s here to punish me for my crimes against your cause?”
“Multiverse poli– My, you certainly have an imagination. I–”
“‘Cause lemme tell you, buddy,” you cut him off. “I’ve done some real fucked up things. Trust me. Don’t be thrown off by my pretty face– I know I have one, like three overconfident alpha male type bitches have already tried luring me into their clutches tonight– but believe me, I’ve done terrible, terrible things with consequences that were so bad, I think I’m mentally scarred for life! But I digress, let’s make this quick and jus–”
He clamped a hand over your mouth, muffling the rest of your words. “¡Dios mío! Will you just let me finish my sentence, woman?”
You nodded aggressively and he retracted his hand.
“I am not here to arrest you,” You fought the urge to drown him in a million questions. A force of habit, you were a scientist. “I’m here to talk.”
Well, at least we wasn’t here to lock you up. (Or kill you. The thought crossed your mind for a second.)
He paused, giving you time to digest his words, his molten eyes pouring into yours. (It also made the moment more dramatic than it needed to be.)
“About?” You questioned.
Another dramatic pause. (…was this his ‘thing’ or something?)
“You.”
Great. Vague and blunt. You were beginning to think these were his defining characteristics.
“You’re gonna need to be a little more specific, man. I’m not a mind reader– though, y’know what, that would be cool as hell. It would save a lot of time, I think. But it would be pretty annoying to hear everyone all the time… there should definitely be a turn off option or something, or else it would end up being a real pain in th–”
He cut you off.
“Do you always talk this much?”
“Do you always talk that little?”
He let out a disgruntled sigh, resting his elbows on the counter while pinching the bridge of his nose. “You are impossible.”
You let out a breathy laugh, not even bothering to suppress the wry smile stretching across your lips as you shrugged. “Thanks, I try my best.”
After mumbling what you assumed were not very nice words in Spanish under his breath, he exhaled deeply before speaking again.
“The destruction of Earth-19.”
His words made your humorful expression drop. 
“It’s an absolute mystery. One minute it was stable, the next it was collapsing in on itself. ”
Your body stiffened. The story was a little too familiar for comfort.
“You are its only survivor.” Your eyes screwed shut at his words. 
You didn’t deserve to be. The muscles of your throat tightened and your eyes grew heavy.
It should’ve been Peter.
Anyone else, anyone but you. 
The man finally looked up and tried to meet your eyes. As much as you wanted to avoid it, his stare was too strong, too magnetic. He cocked his head to the side and it washed over you.
Ah.
“You want to know what happened.”
“Correct.”
You exhaled shakily and massaged your temples before standing up from your stool. “Not here. Plus, I’m starving.”
“I know a place,” He suggested with a sigh.
 A half smile met your face. “Sweet.”
He slapped some money onto the counter before meeting your eye with the ghost of a smirk. “You owe me.”
Smug little shit. 
You hadn’t even touched your drink.
“Is it possible to hate someone you’ve just met? Because I’m pretty sure I hate you and we’ve just met. And I owe you nothing. Is it not still customary for the guy to pay on the first date?”
“This was not a date.”
You didn’t miss the way his cheekbones dusted with color. You decided to push his buttons a little, he was handsome enough, what was the harm in flirting a little?
“Totally was.”
“Was not.”
You laughed, walking out of the door he held open for you. He was fun to mess with.
“Yet we’ve done all the first date things. Awkward first conversations, teasing banter– though that was me more than you. Guess it’s hard to be both hot and funny. Lucky for you, I carry in both departments, I’m a real catch, you see. – you also paid for everything, and look, you’re even holding the door open for me! Such a gentleman.”
He deadpanned as you slightly nudged his arm with a teasing grin. “You aren’t a catch, you're just insufferable.” 
You scoffed, a smile still on your face. “I take it all back, you’re such an asshole.”
He said nothing more and walked ahead with you trailing not far behind. The entire walk to wherever he was taking you was quiet. It gave you time to look around. Nueva York was fascinating. 
You wondered if your Earth’s New York would have looked like this in the year 2099.
Too bad you’d never find out.
By the time you reached what you assumed was your final destination, the morning sun was beginning to peek over the horizon.
It wasn’t much of a surprise, given that it was probably 3-4 AM when you were in that bar. 
Drinking in the first pleasant beams of golden warmth, you spoke up again. 
“So, do you want me to keep calling you ‘asshole’ or do you have a name?”
“Miguel,” He said, eyes not leaving the door as he pushed it open. “Miguel O’Hara.”
Miguel O’Hara. A man of frustratingly few words. “So, Miguel, where have you brought me for our second date?”
He rolled his eyes and scooched into one of the booths and you followed, sitting across from him.
He called out to an employee in Spanish (you really should have paid more attention in high school) and turned to you with a shrug and a small, assured smile. 
“Just the place with the best empanadas in the entire city.”
“Ohh,” You smiled brightly. “I’ve never had empanadas! Are they really a breakfast food, though?”
A look of disgust washed over his face, as if you had just insulted his very being, and your smile grew awkward. 
“Empanadas can be eaten 24/7. Whenever and wherever you want.” 
His voice was just a little too serious for you to be smiling so you swallowed thickly and straightened your back, nodding with what you hoped was your most proper-looking face.
“Noted.”
You waited for a few minutes in tense silence before a question came to mind.
You wanted to slap yourself across the forehead. Why hadn’t you asked sooner? You bit your lip nervously, eyeing Miguel as he fiddled with some device around his wrist.
“Say,” You began, cutting through the still air. “am I ever gonna find out exactly why you’ve been stalking me for the past six months? Or...”
You trailed off, but your gaze remained fixated on him, watching as his eyes went wide and his muscles stiffened. He wasn’t expecting you to know. “How-How do you know about that?”
A small smirk found it’s way to your face. “My tech might not be as fancy as yours, champ, but it’s sophisticated enough to tell me I’m being followed whenever I make a jump.”
His eyes flickered from you to your surroundings as if he was unable to hold your gaze for too long, and he took in a heavy breath before giving in.
“...You’re familiar with Spiderman, aren’t you?”
“Oh yeah, I think I’ve seen like ten of him. Just some guy swinging around in a slutty ass spandex suit, what about him?”
A deep red crawled up his cheeks and he avoided your gaze altogether. Your eyes widened. Wait...
“I’m kind of… you know…” He pulled at his collar, revealing the deep blue and stark red of what you assumed was his suit.
“No fucking way.” A breathy laugh of disbelief left your lungs.
“Don’t know why it’s so hard to believe…” He muttered, brows creasing together as he folded his arms across his chest defensively.
“Aw, don’t pout, Miguel.” You assured. “I for one really like the slutty suit.”
Miguel buried his face into one of his palms, expression as red and flustered as possible. It was kinda cute, if you were being honest.
“You are going to be the death of me.”
You grinned, eating up his reaction. “So, does this mean you’ll take me for a swing through the city?”
His answer came without hesitation. “No.”
You jutted your lower lip out a little.
A few beats of silence that you were sure Miguel was beginning to savor passed before you spoke up again.
“Please?”
He muttered what you assumed were curses in his native tongue as he dragged a slow, frustrated hand down his face. “Behave yourself – by that I mean stop. talking. – and I’ll think about it.”
“Damn, so you’re into that kind of stuff.”
“¡Caramba! Would you just shut u–”
He was seething and you were about to laugh when a sharp ding sounded. 
Looking down, you found that your food had appeared right in front of you through some sort of machine. Normally, you would’ve torn yourself apart trying to figure out how the contraption worked, but the delicious aroma of the food overtook that innate curiosity. 
You reached out for an empanada and took a careful bite, feeling yourself melt as soon as the flavor hit your tastebuds. 
“God. This is, like, absolutely divine.” You were talking between chews. (Which you knew was very, very mannerless, but they were just too damn good.)
“How have I lived so long without you?!” You talked to the empanada in your hand. “I’m eating you all the time from now on, I’m not even jokin–” 
The pointed sound of Miguel clearing his throat reached your ears and you swallowed the food in your mouth quickly, mumbling an apology.
“So, now that you're no longer starving,”
“Right, right,” You began, dabbing some crumbs off of your face with a napkin.
Your mouth ran dry and your chest tightened, but you forced yourself to smile. 
You really didn’t feel like sobbing until your insides ached in front of someone you had just met. You did enough of that alone.
Fake it till you make it, right?
 “The destruction of Earth-whatever-number-you-gave-it, told by its only survivor.” 
You set the empanada down, feeling your appetite disappear at even the very thought of what had happened. 
“Coming right up.”
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next chapter →
translations. please note that i do not speak spanish, i found these translations and words using the internet. if there are any errors, please please lmk! it would be much appreciated &lt;3
¡Dios mío! (my God) , ¡Caramba! (For crying out loud, Dammit)
taglist. @beetlejuicesupremacy , @khaylin27 .
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guywrestlingaddiction · 2 months
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What Turned me Gay: How to Introduce Someone to Gay Wrestling
It's no secret that wrestling turned me gay.  High school wrestling turned into a passion for pro wrestling, which evolved into an obsession with gay wrestling.  Now, while my journey is unique to me, I wondered, how do you turn someone on to gay wrestling? 
What turned me gay (not really) ... 
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Troy & Brian Baker v Vinny Trevino & Joshua Goodman (bgeast.com)
This post, inspired by the sidelineland.com blog, takes a tongue and cheek look into "what made me gay (not really)" and in thinking about the topic of introducing someone to gay wrestling, it's helpful to go back to the beginning - at least my beginning.
My first exposure to gay wrestling was on bgeast.com and boy do I still have vivid memories of that experience. Those wrestler profiles, the exciting match descriptions, all of it worked to overly stimulate my young imagination.  Reading about those grunting and groaning men made me feel like I was there, in the ring with them and feeling every strained bicep or the pain of a perfectly timed ball claw.  One particular image forever sealed in my memory from that day was an aggressive Brigham Bell flex-straddling a helpless Dino Serra in a schoolboy pin.  Brigham's cocky look, that vain bicep flex all worked to supercharge my interest.
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Brigham Bell v Dino Serra (bgeast.com)
Later, after months, maybe even years of research, when I was finally able to buy my first Bgeast DVD, I picked up Tag Team Torture 3 - specifically because of Mr.Troy Baker.  Now it wasn't intentional but what's key here is that I picked a gay wrestling match without the sex.  As it happened, Troy Baker simply didn't do nudity and after all my 'research' there was no stopping me from wanting to see him.  
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Troy & Brian Baker v Vinny Trevino & Joshua Goodman (bgeast.com)A gay wrestling match without the gay sex
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I mean can you blame me? 
All that to say that my first introduction to gay wrestling was less about guys doing it and more about the wrestling. Of course I visited other gay sites devoted purely to sex, but somehow keeping them separate - gay wrestling and gay porn helped. In fact, it intensified my gay wrestling passion since there was just nothing hotter than being taken to the edge of excitement, only to be denied it.  Gay wrestling wasn't just a cheesy prelude to the sex, it was an epic story of powerful emotions, humiliation, and masculinity.  Needless to say I was hooked. 
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Flyboy v Jose (bgeast.com) Another gay wrestling classic without the sex.
I won't go as far to say that I didn't need the release that typical porn had to offer, but what I will say is that the images of hot guys straining their muscles or the guttural moans each fighter made was simply hotter than anything else I had seen before. Whether it was the intense cries of defeat or the shakiness in their voice when the adrenaline was flowing; all of that was heaven to me.
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Mars v Bjorn (wrestler4hire.com)
But the thing that did it for me was the intense realness that gay wrestling brought.  The sweat that proved each man was a fighter, the trash talk boasting how they would dominate each other, and the humiliation showing there were real consequences to all this, all worked in concert to fuel what was rapidly becoming my obsession.  
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Grant Phelps v Mark Molina (movimuswrestling) Movimus: The most wrestling focused studio. 
At stake in each wrestling match was a piece of a man's masculinity and pride, with the winner stripping the loser of everything they had. Gay wrestling to me was everything but the sex, everything but the climax, all of which made it a thousand times hotter.
So how do you welcome someone to all that gay wrestling has to offer? Following my path I'd recommend jumping into a classic high quality match minus the sex from a studio like Bgeast then alternating between a studio that offers more sex to one that offers more wrestling. 
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After awhile you'll figure out where you land on this spectrum (wrestling and sex) and really begin to see where the stars align for you.  Now for me, if I had to guess what the perfect mix would be, it would be something like 75% wrestling and 25% sex, but to each their own.  
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Ron Masters v Cody Brooks (can-am.com) Can-Am: The most sex focused studio. 
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Jonathan Bennett v J Durango (bgenterprises) Bgenterprises: Sometimes all wrestling, sometimes all sex. 
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Logan v Drake (nrwrestling.com) Nrwrestling: The most non-gay gay wrestling studio.
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Luke Truong v Mack Mahoney (muscleboywrestling.com) Muscleboywrestling: More sex focused than wrestling. 
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Cali Boy v Christian Thorn (wrestler4hire.com) Wrestler4hire: More wrestling than sex. 
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Cody v Tanner Ripley (undergroundwrestler.com) Undergroundwrestler: Gay wrestling with everything but the nudity. 
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Kid Leopard v Sean Cannon (bgeast.com) Bgeast: This studio has everything on the wrestling-sex continuum. 
When I first started watching gay wrestling there were really just a few options but now there are countless variations to entertain yourself with. Some of you may prefer more sex, others more wrestling, but whatever the type of gay wrestling you ultimately become interested in, it really is up to you. You see this story, this journey of how I came to obsess over gay wrestling is unique to me as it is to every other person's passion and without a doubt something that turned me gay (not really).
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emjayewrites · 22 days
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Private Landing (Lewis Hamilton Fanfic)(5/?)
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SUMMARY: In the high-speed world of Formula One, Lewis Hamilton subtly introduces a mysterious partner via Instagram after a slight mishap during an interview. Sparking media intrigue, everyone wants to know: who is the enigmatic figure that calls herself Mrs. Hamilton?
INSPO: this post
PAIRINGS: Sir Lewis Hamilton x Aurora "Rorie" Phillips-Hamilton (faceclaim is Justine Skye)
WARNINGS: drama, angst, sexual content, formula one b.s., pre-established relationship (with flashbacks). RATED M (18+)
TAGLIST: @queenshikongo3 @cocobutterqwueen @httpsserene @mauvecherie-writes @galatially @pausmoon @a-moment-captured @yeea-nah @sirlew44 @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @weetjy @lewisroscoelove @hxneyclouds @questionable-behaviour @lovebittenbyevans @tian-monique @alika-4466 @saintslewis @cherry2stems @mitruscity @burberryfilms @planetmimi @woderfulkawaii @d3kstar @liamundi @trinitoldyouso @scorpiobleue @pharaohanubis0 @certifiedlesbianbaddie @blveeeeeee @sugardontbesweet @omgsuperstarg @bluesole16 @serpenttines-library @peyiswriting @royallyprincesslilly @jasmindaughteroftheworld @laptiteantillaise @motheroffae @hrlzy
A/N: Please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist. The headers/dividers are by @inklore
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CHAPTER 5: Ups & Downs
Summer break came to a bittersweet end and they were soon gearing up to return to the thrill of racing once more. Everyone had an amazing time exploring Turkey as well as spending some quality time with family in Colorado. With the Dutch Grand Prix just around the corner, anticipation hung heavy in the air as fans eagerly awaited the pulse-pounding action that was sure to unfold on the historic circuit of Zandvoort.
Meanwhile, the news of Lewis signing on for another year at Mercedes sent ripples through the racing world. His decision was met with both celebration and anticipation, as fans eagerly awaited another season of thrilling races and nail-biting finishes. With his focus now shifting back to racing, Lewis immersed himself in rigorous training sessions, honing his skills and pushing himself to new limits. He left a few days before Rorie and Lyric, anxiously wanting to test drive the updated car prior to the race.
The bustling streets of Amsterdam buzzed with excitement as Rorie drove to the quaint town near the racetrack, eager to soak in the vibrant atmosphere that surrounded the Grand Prix weekend. The winding roads leading up to Zandvoort were adorned with colorful banners and flags, a vivid display of national pride as fans from all corners of the world gathered to witness the adrenaline-fueled spectacle.
Rorie made her way through the crowded paddock, she couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity and comfort. She had become accustomed to the hustle and bustle of race weekends, the constant adrenaline rush and the intense competition that filled the air. But this time, things were different.
As usual, she was there supporting her man, yet this time, as with all the other races, her presence was no longer unnoticed or overlooked. The media had taken an interest in their relationship, and Rorie was now under constant scrutiny from paparazzi and fans alike. She could no longer walk around the circuit incognito like she used to and was now photographed just like the other team members' spouses and girlfriends. All eyes were on her wherever she went.
The chaos and clamor that followed her everywhere had magically dissipated for once. It was a refreshing change from the incessant screaming and pushing that usually surrounded her - perhaps the fans and media finally understood the importance of privacy, especially now since she had Lyric with her.
They still continued to take photos however, but maintained a respectful distance nonetheless. The warm scent of fresh stroopwafels wafted through the air, adding to the joyful atmosphere of the moment.
“Ooh, do you want a treat, sweetheart?” she asked her toddler, pausing for a quick second to lift up the canopy. No surprise, he was asleep. “Alrighty then, a treat for Mommy,” Rorie laughed to herself as she continued on her way, pushing the stroller towards the stroopwafel station.
As she stood in line for some warm stroopwafels, Rorie’s mind drifted off to her journey to motherhood and the difficulty of getting pregnant. And now, she and Lewis were thinking about having another, which scared her a bit, making her worry if she would have to go through the same hoops as she did in order to get pregnant with their son.
Rorie was deep in thought when a pack of enthusiastic fans noticed her and excitedly approached her.
"Oh my gosh, you’re Lewis’ wife, right?" one fan exclaimed, causing others in the line to turn and stare at her.
Rorie nodded. “That’s me. How are you all doing?"
"I knew it was you!" another fan interjected, nudging her friend. “I told you, Ella!”
The first fan, Ella, looked down at the stroller. "Did you bring Baby LH with you? Can we see them?"
Rorie felt a small frown forming on her face. Her baby was more than just a prop, but these girls couldn't be much older than fifteen so she let it slide. "Baby LH is sleeping at the moment, ladies. But we can take a picture or I can treat you to some stroopwafels. Your call."
They looked at each other before agreeing on a group selfie.
Rorie smiled warmly as they gathered around her for the photo. After a few minutes and deciding that the photos were satisfactory for their teenage standards, the girls thanked her and went on their way.
Pushing the stroller with one hand while holding a steaming stroopwafel in the other, Rorie made her way towards the Mercedes hospitality motorhome where she was greeted by familiar faces – Toto Wolff, his wife Susie, and their son, Jack.
“Surprised to see you here. How are you, Rorie?” asked Toto.
“Hi, Rorie,” Susie smiled, giving her a hug.
“Hi Toto, Susie," Rorie said with a smile, returning her warm embrace. She then turned to Jack who was busy playing with his toy cars on the floor. "And how's my favorite little racer doing?"
Jack looked up and grinned when he saw Rorie. "Hi Auntie Rorie!"
Rorie chuckled and ruffled his hair affectionately. "You're getting bigger every time I see you."
“Jack was just asking about his buddy Lyric," Susie stated with a grin.
“Yeah, Lewis said that he can walk now, so we can go on the scooter together,” responded Jack with a bright smile.
"Well, here he is," Rorie said, lifting up the canopy to reveal Lyric who was still sound asleep. "But we might have to wait for him to wake up before he can play and I don’t think Lyric is big enough yet to ride the scooter.”
She settled into one of the plush couches in the motorhome, enjoying her stroopwafel and a cup of hot coffee as she caught up with Toto and Susie. They chatted about their families and upcoming races.
Lyric let out a cry as he stirred awake and flashed a smile at Rorie when he saw his mother.
"Hey there little man," Rorie cooed as she picked him up, planting a kiss on his chubby cheek. "Did you have a nice nap?”
Lyric gurgled happily in Rorie's arms as she sat back down on the couch. Toto and Susie couldn't help but smile at the sight of Rorie with her baby.
"He's gotten so big, it feels like just yesterday he was born," remarked Susie.
Rorie beamed with pride. "He's growing up so quickly. And he's such a happy baby, but he's always trying to get his little hands on everything."
Sure enough, Lyric reached out for the rest of Rorie’s stroopwafel
"Uh-uh little man," she said playfully, moving the treat out of his reach. "You're not quite ready for that yet."
Lyric cried out in protest. “No!”
Toto chuckled. "Looks like Lyric inherited his father's sweet tooth."
"Unfortunately, yes," Rorie laughed uneasily as she tried to placate her whining son. He wriggled in her arms, so she decided to put him down on the floor and give him a snack from her diaper bag. "Just one though, okay?"
Lyric replied with a defiant "No!" before grabbing the treat and toddling over to Jack.
"So sassy but so cute," Rorie commented bemusedly at the whole situation. “He also gets that from his father.”
"What about me?" Lewis asked as he entered the motorhome. He had just finished a meeting with his engineers, and seeing his family was a welcome sight. "Hey beautiful," Lewis greeted Rorie with a kiss on the lips before turning to Lyric with a big grin. "And hello my little man!"
Lyric giggled in response as Lewis tickled his stomach lightly.
We were just talking about how much Lyric takes after you with his sweet tooth and sassy attitude.”
Lewis chuckled. “Well, I can’t deny that, he’s my son through and through.”
“He definitely has your charm,” Toto added with a grin.
Lyric reached out for his father, wanting to be held. Lewis happily obliged, scooping him up and settling him on his hip.
“So, what have you guys been up to?” Lewis asked as he took a seat next to Rorie on the couch.
“We were just catching up and having some stroopwafels,” Susie answered, offering Lewis one from the bag she had brought.
“Thanks, Susie,” Lewis said gratefully as he took the treat. “Jack and Lyric getting along well?”
“They are inseparable when they’re together,” Rorie replied with a smile. “It’s so cute seeing them together.”
“Jack is learning a lot from you, Lewis,” Toto commented, proud of his son and the relationship he had with his hero.
Lewis shrugged modestly. “I just try to be a good role model for him.”
“Well, it’s working because Jack wants to be just like you when he grows up,” Susie said sincerely.
Lewis grinned from ear to ear. “That means a lot coming from you guys.”
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The sound of engines revving in the distance became more pronounced as the afternoon steadily wore on, signaling the start of the Dutch Grand Prix. The paddock was bustling with activity as everyone prepared for the big race.
As the minutes ticked down before lights out, Lewis got dressed in his racing suit. He double-checked all his gear, making sure everything was in its proper place as he mentally prepared himself for the intense race ahead.
Lyric, who was comfortably nestled in his father's arms, looked up at Lewis with adoration shining in his eyes.
"Ready to see daddy in action, little man?" Lewis asked with a smile as he bounced his son gently inside the team’s garage. It was a tradition for Lewis to spend a few minutes with Lyric before every race. It helped him relax and take his mind off the pressure of competing.
Lyric let out a happy squeal in response, causing some of the mechanics to chuckle at the adorable scene between father and son.
"Looks like you have your biggest fan right here," Bono commented with a grin as he watched Lyric playfully tug on one of Lewis's braids.
“I believe I do,” Lewis smiled proudly at Lyric before turning back to get into race mode. He placed an AirPod in his left ear, turning his music on the highest setting possible then hit shuffle on his Race Weekend playlist. Bopping his head to the music, Lewis paced around the garage with Lyric perched on his hip, trying desperately to not make eye contact with the various cameras that surrounded them.
Between the usual F1 media and the camera crew from Netflix, the garage was somewhat filled today; a bit too much for his personal liking, yet fortunately, all of the cameras kept a comforting distance. Though Lewis had an inkling of pride of having footage of these moments with his son during race weekend, Rorie still remained a tad apprehensive with having Lyric in the spotlight.
Silverstone Grand Prix changed their original plan of privacy a little, with some grainy pictures of their son’s face appearing on the internet, thus they had to compromise – allowing pictures and videos to be taken, within reason of course, by various media outlets during races.
The sound of engines revving outside grew louder and more intense as the cars began to line up on the grid.
"I have to go now, little man," Lewis said regretfully as he handed Lyric back to Rorie so she could take him out of the garage before it got too noisy and chaotic.
Rorie gave her husband a kiss on the lips before leaving with Lyric to watch the race inside the paddock club.
Lewis took one last deep breath and focused on the task at hand - winning another Grand Prix, which was proving to be difficult due to the awful car they had this season. After this year, he never wanted to see this model ever again. Between the unpredictability and imbalances, Lewis was beyond the point of being frustrated and his focus was just making it through the remainder of the races.
Nevertheless, the show must go on.
He removed his AirPod and placed it in the designated case then handed his electronics off to Bono for safekeeping. After that, he put on the halo and his helmet. Climbing into his car, Lewis stood on the seat to adjust himself before eventually settling down. With a thumbs up for final confirmation to his team, he drove the car from the garage and onto the grid.
Lewis’ breaths came out in labored pants as he awaited for the familiar sound of "lights out".
When the signal echoed through the circuit and the adrenaline rush kicked in, Lewis's heart raced as he revved his engine, pushing onto the gas pedal at full throttle. The cars ahead of him began to move faster as they approached the first turn, and Lewis followed suit, leaning into the turn as he maneuvered the vehicle with expertise.
His car sliced through the corners, his focus unwavering amidst the chaotic ballet of speed and skill, and Lewis felt a surge of determination course through his veins with each overtake and lap.
Meanwhile, in the luxury of the paddock club, Rorie stood front and center of the large television, her heart pounding in sync with the roar of the engines below. She cradled Lyric in her arms as the toddler rested peacefully on her shoulder, watching with bated breath as Lewis navigated the twists and turns of the circuit with unmatched precision.
"Come on, baby,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the thunderous noise of the venue. "You've got this, baby.”
Pride and adoration shone in her eyes as she witnessed her husband's mastery on display, a testament to his unwavering passion and commitment to his craft as he overtook one driver after another, somehow managing to go from P13 to P6.
“Come on, get this fuckin’ podium, baby,” she cheered, bouncing on the balls of her feet. The entire ordeal was edging to the max and Rorie couldn't shake the gnawing sense of apprehension that lingered in the back of her mind. With every daring maneuver Lewis executed, she felt a pang of fear tighten around her heart, a reminder of the inherent risks that came with his chosen profession.
Yet, even amidst her worries, she couldn't deny the undeniable thrill that pulsed through her veins, mingling with the electric atmosphere of the paddock club.
"Go, Lewis, go!" she cheered, her voice rising slightly above the din of the crowd. In that moment, as she held their son close and watched her husband chase his dreams on the track, Rorie knew that they were exactly where they were meant to be—bound together by love, courage, and the unbreakable spirit of a racing family. And when he finally reached the checkered flag, three places below a podium, Rorie rooted for him just the same as she would if he won the Grand Prix.
However, a nearby Verstappen fan couldn't resist chiming in. "Why cheer for him? He didn't win," he remarked snidely, pointing to Max Verstappen's victory.
Rorie turned to the fan, a hint of sass in her voice and a smirk playing on her lips as her eyes slowly scanned the disheveled-looking man. "Oh honey," she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm, "you do not know who you’re starting with. Talk to me again when Max becomes the face of F1. And besides," she added with a mischievous glint in her eye, "who needs a first-place finish when you’re the fuckin’ GOAT?”
With a flick of her hair, she turned away from the fan, her unwavering support for her husband shining brighter than ever as she sashayed out of the paddock club to parc ferme. After waiting for ten or so minutes, Lewis appeared, making a beeline to a waiting journalist for his post-race interview, his mind still buzzing from the intensity of the race. As he approached, the journalist greeted him with a smile, ready to delve into the events of the day.
"Hey Lewis, tough race out there," the journalist began, holding out the microphone.
"Yeah, it was a challenging one for sure," Lewis replied, his voice tinged with exhaustion as he wiped his face with a towel.
"Let's talk about those last few laps. You were making some incredible moves out there, starting from P13 and finding your way to P6. What was going through your mind?"
Lewis paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts before responding. "Honestly, I was just trying to stay focused and push as hard as I could. Every position counts, especially on a track like this."
Before the journalist could ask another question, a small voice interrupted from behind them. "Dada!"
Turning around, Lewis's face broke into a grin as he spotted his son, Lyric, grinning at him from his mother’s arms not too far away.
“Dada! Hi!” the toddler said with a happy wave.
"Hey there, little man," Lewis chuckled. "Sorry about that," he said, turning back to the journalist. "Looks like someone wanted to say hi."
The journalist couldn't help but smile at the heartwarming scene unfolding before him. "No worries at all," he replied, his tone softening. "That was actually quite adorable. How does it feel to have your son cheering you on, even after a challenging race like today?"
Lewis's eyes softened as he looked at Lyric, his heart swelling with pride. "It means everything," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "No matter how tough things get on the track, knowing that I have my family supporting me every step of the way gives me the strength to keep pushing forward. I couldn't ask for anything more."
The journalist nodded, touched by Lewis's heartfelt words. "Well, it's clear that you have an incredible support system behind you. And speaking of support, your fans have been rallying behind you all season. What would you like to say to them after today's race?"
"To all my fans out there," Lewis began, his voice carrying a note of appreciation, "thank you for sticking by me through thick and thin. Your unwavering support means the world to me, and I promise to keep fighting for you every time I step onto the track. Today might not have been our day, but with your continued support, I know that we'll bounce back stronger than ever. So, thank you, from the bottom of my heart."
With a final smile at the journalist, he turned to leave, making his way over to his family, and scooping up his son. The cameras absolutely adored this, and tried to take as many pictures as possible as the Hamiltons meandered through the congested paddock.
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“It’s the beginning of another great race weekend and we’re in Monza for the Italian Grand Prix!”
Monza held a special place in Rorie's heart, not just because of its rich racing history, but also because it was where she and Lewis had said their vows in a picturesque ceremony at Villa Reale di Monza. Surrounded by close friends and family as well as the beauty of Italy, it was a moment she would always cherish. Things seemed to be falling into place for Rorie - her article for Bustle was receiving positive feedback, she had been invited to some shows during New York Fashion Week, and there were other exciting opportunities on the horizon.
On her way to Monza after dropping off Lyric with Nina, Rorie made a stop in Milan to spend time with Hailey, shop a little, and enjoy lunch together. Although buying overtly expensive items wasn't her thing, Rorie couldn't resist treating herself to something special from Hermes to celebrate her current successes.
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The roar of the crowd brought Rorie back to reality. With Lewis starting at P8, she was praying for a miracle, hoping that he would get a podium. She beamed with pride as she watched her husband expertly navigate his car around the track, overtaking his competitors one by one. With each passing lap, her excitement mounted and she couldn't help but dance in her seat. The entire garage was filled with tension and anxiety as Lewis climbed up in the rankings.
But in a split second, disaster struck.
As Lewis attempted to overtake Oscar Piastri, they were side-by-side through Curva Grande, fighting for every inch of space before they soon made contact at the chicane.
Oscar's front wing sustained damage, forcing him to make a pit stop. With his adrenaline pumping, Lewis pushed himself harder than ever before.
"Fuck, didn't see him," Lewis muttered over the radio. Rorie's heart raced at his words, but she tried not to let it show on her face. Instead, she clenched her jaw in frustration - things were not going according to plan.
“You need to box after this lap,” noted Bono as he sat along with the rest of the engineers. “New tyres.”
"Alright," her husband responded.
Leaning over to Bono, she asked, "Will he receive a penalty for this?"
"Yes," Bono replied sadly. "The FIA mentioned a five-second penalty."
“Fuck me,” she groaned with an eye roll just as Lewis was pulling into the pit lane for his tyre change.
"Five second penalty, Lewis," Bono confirmed.
“Fuck me,” was Lewis' response as he sped out of the pits. "I swear I didn't see him; he was in my blind spot."
"I know, I know. Let's just focus on finishing the race," Bono said softly, trying to calm him.
Once the checkered flag flew, Lewis crossed the finish line in sixth place. It was an nice recovery from starting at P8, but it wasn't enough to secure a podium finish.
“I’m sorry,” Lewis said as he climbed out of his car and walked towards her. He looked defeated and exhausted, but Rorie could see the fire still burning in his eyes. She smiled softly and wrapped her arms around him.
“It’s not your fault, baby,” she whispered reassuringly, trying to comfort him. “You did your best.”
Lewis leaned down and kissed her before pulling away to talk briefly to the media waiting for him. When he finished talking to the them, he walked over to Rorie with a tired but content smile on his face.
Lewis's expression softened as he looked at her. "Thank you for always being my rock," he said sincerely.
Rorie smiled and leaned up to give him another kiss before they headed back to their motorhome. As they walked back hand in hand, they were greeted by cheers from the fans who had been waiting for them outside.
“I love you, Lewis!" one fan shouted as they passed by. "You're the GOAT!"
"Thanks so much," Lewis called back with a wave, genuinely touched by their support.
Once inside their motorhome, Rorie watched as Lewis collapsed onto the couch with an exhausted sigh. She grabbed him a bottle of water and sat next to him, running her hands through his braids soothingly. Lewis closed his eyes and let out a content hum, grateful for her touch.
For awhile, despite how noticeably defeated he was, he made a few jokes. He had a habit of using humor to lighten the mood, even in tough situations.
“Seriously though, thank you for always being there for me,” Lewis said, opening his eyes and looking up at her.
“Of course, that’s what I’m here for,” Rorie replied with a smile. “Wifey for lifey.”
“Wifey for lifey.” Lewis smiled tiredly and angled his head closer onto her lap. “You know what would make it even better?” he asked playfully.
“Hmm, I wonder what,” Rorie said, sardonically as she continued to massage his temples.
“Consolation sex,” Lewis grinned mischievously.
Rorie rolled her eyes but couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”
“But you love me,” Lewis teased, winking up at her.
Rorie leaned down and kissed him gently before pulling away with a smirk. “Yes, I do.”
“You know we still have some time before your flight in the morning…” Lewis trailed off suggestively. Rorie had a flight back home to Monaco early tomorrow morning. She was planning to spend a few days with Lyric before she had to go to New York.
Rorie raised an eyebrow at Lewis and smirked. “Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?”
Lewis gave her a crooked grin. “I’m always up for some consolation sex.”
“I know you are with your little freaky ass. I have an early flight,” Rorie reminded him, trying to be responsible. “Like a real early flight.”
“Oh come on,” Lewis pleaded playfully. “We can make it quick.”
“That’s what you always say,” Rorie teased, knowing full well that Lewis was never satisfied with just a quick session.
“Throw me a bone here, woman,” he said with puppy-dog eyes. “My car is shit and I’m not performing the way I want to perform. Can’t a man try to impregnate his wife in peace?”
Rorie shook her head at Lewis’s attempt to convince her to have sex with him.
“Fine,” she relented, giving in to his puppy-dog eyes. “But make it quick.”
Lewis grinned and wasted no time in jumping up excitedly, pulling Rorie onto his lap and kissing her passionately. “Bring that ass over here, Mrs. Hamilton.”
Rorie giggled into the kiss, knowing exactly how this would play out. “Yes, Sir.” That comment earned her a growl from Lewis.
“Don’t tease me,” he warned as he carried her towards the bedroom.
“And if I want to?” Rorie quipped as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeper, feeling the familiar electricity between them. They stumbled into the bedroom, and Lewis kicked the door shut behind them and gently laid Rorie down on the bed.
“God, I miss you,” he mumbled against her lips as he began to remove her blouse.
“I miss you too,” Rorie said between kisses as she ran her hands down his torso.
“You drive me crazy, do you know that?” Lewis’ eyes never left hers as he parted her legs wider to fit in between them. “You like that shit, don’t you, baby?” He lifted a leg, leaning closer to place a soft kiss on her ankle. Rorie moaned at the tender sensation, arching her back into a bow, her lids heavy with desire as she allowed him to pull off her pants. “You know how crazy I get ‘bout you right?”
She squirmed when he kissed her bare inner thigh. “Yes…baby…I know.”
“You know?” he whispered against her thigh, inching closer and closer to her panty-clad sex. His nose glazed over her womanhood, inhaling deeply as he savored her scent. “You know I’m ‘bout to tear this shit up, right?”
Fuck, I need you right now, she thought. Words escaped her at that moment, so all she could manage to do was nod.
Chuckling softly, Lewis wasted no time in taking off the last remaining clothing that covered her bottom half, delving into her pussy with unimaginable fervor. His fingers eventually joined his tongue, exploring her moist depths as the sounds of her slickness and cries of pleasure reverberated across the room.
"Just like that, baby," she moaned and Lewis hummed in acknowledgment, which sent a buzzing sensation through her body. He knew exactly how to touch her, how to make her lose control. And as much as Rorie wanted to hold on to the moment forever, she also craved for the release that only Lewis could give her.
Her hands found their way to his hair, tugging and pulling as he continued his ministrations. Lewis groaned against her skin, clearly enjoying the reaction he was getting from her. His fingers moved faster, his tongue working harder until Rorie's entire body trembled with pleasure.
"Fuck," she cried out as she finally reached her peak, waves of ecstasy washing over her. Lewis didn't stop though; he continued to pleasure her until she begged him to stop, tears of pleasure streaming down her face. Rorie lay on the bed, panting heavily as she tried to catch her breath.
"That's a good girl," he smiled, very cockily as he moved from her to sit on his haunches. She watched him curiously as he spread her juices into his beard.
"You’re nasty as fuck," she commented breathlessly.
"What?" Lewis grinned boyishly. “This shit helps the beard get fuller.”
"No, it doesn't," she stated matter-of-factly. “There’s no scientific proof that pussy fluids does that.”
“Mind your business, woman,” Lewis chuckled, pulling her to him.
Their lips met in a passionate embrace, his tongue teasing hers as he explored her mouth. As they kissed, Rorie could taste herself on his lips and it only made her want him more. She moaned into his mouth, lost in the moment and the intensity of their chemistry.
"Shit's good, huh?" he murmured against her lips before nipping at her lower lip. "You taste like nirvana."
“Nirvana? Really?”
“Yes.”
"You're such a weirdo," she teased as she straddled him.
"I'm a weirdo that knows how to please you," he countered, his hands gripping her hips tightly. “Are you gonna ride this dick or are you gonna play?”
There was never a dull moment with Lewis, that was for sure. But she couldn't deny the fact that he did indeed know how to please her in ways that no one else ever had. Rorie discarded the rest of his clothing. Moving her hips against his, she grinded into his hard length before sliding fully down his shaft. Lewis groaned and bucked up into her as she picked up the pace, riding him as if there was no tomorrow.
"Fuck," he muttered, gripping her hips tighter as she rode him harder. "You're so wet for me."
"I always am," she replied breathlessly, feeling herself getting closer to another orgasm. “Only you can make me this wet.”
Lewis smirked and flipped them over so he was on top, thrusting into her with a newfound intensity. Rorie wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer as their bodies moved together in perfect sync.
"You feel so fucking good," Lewis groaned, his face inches from hers.
"You too," Rorie managed to say between moans and gasps.
Their bodies moved faster and harder, the sound of their skin slapping together echoing through the room. And just when Rorie thought she couldn't take it anymore, Lewis leaned down and whispered in her ear.
"Come for me," he said huskily before biting down on her neck.
That was all it took for Rorie to shatter into a million pieces, screaming out Lewis's name as waves of pleasure washed over her once again. Lewis collapsed next to Rorie on the bed and pulled her close to him. They lay there in silence for a few minutes, just basking in each other’s warmth and presence.
“I needed that,” Lewis finally broke the silence, his voice hoarse with emotion.
“Me too,” Rorie replied, sighing happily. “I love you.”
“I love you too, baby.”
They lay together in quiet bliss for a while longer then Lewis sat up and reached for his phone on the nightstand.
"What are you doing?" Rorie asked curiously as she propped herself up on one elbow.
"I'm ordering us some food," he replied with a grin before placing an order at his team’s hospitality center. They usually had everything set up until late on race weekends to feed all the staff and crew.
Rorie laughed at his predictability but snuggled closer to him nonetheless. They were interrupted by a knock on the door not even a twenty minutes later.
"Damn, that was quick," Rorie commented as Lewis wrapped a towel around his waist to get their food.
He came back with two large containers of food and a huge smile on his face. "I told you they're getting better with everything, but honestly I don’t think it takes much to fuck up fries, hummus, and black bean burgers.”
"Wow, you really went all out," Rorie said as she opened one of the containers and took a bite of the burger.
"Well, I wanted to make sure my girl is well-fed after that workout we just had," Lewis replied with a wink.
Rorie rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her smile. "You're such a goofball."
"But you love me," Lewis teased, cupping her chin.
"Unfortunately, yes," Rorie joked, playfully swatting his hand away.
They continued to enjoy their food in comfortable silence until Lewis broke it by asking, "So what do you want to do tonight?"
"Hmm, how about we watch a movie?" Rorie suggested.
"Sounds good to me," Lewis agreed before getting up to put on some sweatpants and choosing a movie from Netflix. They cuddled up on the couch and watched the movie while finishing off their food.
“Are you gonna miss me when I’m in New York?” she wondered, batting her eyelashes adorably at him. Lewis was silent for several beats and then he shot her a look. “Lewis!”
“What?” he answered in feigned innocence, a laugh escaping him. “Oh, baby, you know I will,” he clarified in a serious tone, pulling her into his arms.
“Mmmhmm.” Rorie gave him a dismissive wave. “I don’t believe it.”
Lewis raised an eyebrow at her. “Why not?”
“Because,” she replied offhandedly, “you probably won’t have time to think about anything else but racing.”
Lewis chuckled and hugged her tighter. “That’s not true, baby. I’ll always make time for you. And that tight, wet pussy of yours.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, causing her to throw a balled napkin at his face.
Rorie rolled her eyes at Lewis’ playful antics and let out a laugh. She knew he was just trying to lighten the mood, but she couldn’t help the twinge of sadness she felt at the thought of her leaving for New York in a few days.
“Stop it,” she scolded with a smile.
“Sorry, sorry,” Lewis apologized, trying to contain his laughter. “I promise I’ll miss you like crazy when you’re gone.”
Rorie gave him a mock glare before snuggling back into his chest. “You better.”
“Promise me something?” he asked.
“Anything,” Rorie replied without hesitation.
“Promise me that you’ll take care of yourself and be safe,” he said, his voice laced with concern. “I know it gets crazy everywhere, but make sure you check-in with me throughout your time there.”
“I promise.”
They continued watching the movie in comfortable silence, enjoying each other’s presence.
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Rorie emerged from the taxi, taking a moment to absorb her surroundings. New York City's energy and constant bustle never failed to rejuvenate her. She still couldn't believe she was here, about to be a special guest at New York Fashion Week. Before meeting Lewis, she had only been to a few post-show parties as a regular attendee, but now she had VIP status and her entire week was filled with front row seats at top designer shows and exclusive invitations to the hottest parties.
She quickly sent a text to Lewis, letting him know that she had arrived safely. She waited for a response but when none came, she assumed he was still on the plane to Singapore.
As she made her way into the lobby of her hotel, she couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous about her upcoming schedule. But she pushed those thoughts aside and focused on checking in.
The concierge greeted her with a warm smile. “Welcome to The Ritz-Carlton. How may I help you?” he said.
“Checking in for Aurora Hamilton.”
The concierge typed on his computer's keyboard. “Ah, yes, Mrs. Hamilton. We just finished cleaning your suite and someone will be escorting you up there shortly.”
Rorie raised an eyebrow in confusion. “My suite?” she questioned.
“Yes, we received a last-minute request for an upgrade,” the concierge explained.
Rorie couldn’t believe it. “I’m sorry, what? Who requested an upgrade?” She only booked a room with a view of Central Park, still pricey but nothing like a suite.
Before the concierge could answer, a bellhop appeared and gestured for her to follow him. She thanked the concierge before making her way towards the elevators with the bellhop and her luggage trolley in tow.
When Rorie entered her suite, she was amazed by its spaciousness and elegance. A small dining area greeted her, followed by a large living room furnished with comfortable sofas. The floor-to-ceiling windows provided a breathtaking view of Central Park.
“Thank you for choosing The Ritz, ma’am,” the bellhop said as he finished unloading her luggage. Rorie smiled and handed him a generous tip. “Thank you,” he replied gratefully.
Without another word, he left her to her own devices. Rorie placed her shoulder bag on the dining room table then made her way to the bedroom to freshen up. As she walked into the bedroom, she let out a squeal when her eyes landed on the huge bouquet of roses on the bed.
“No fuckin’ way!”
She walked over to the bouquet of flowers and took a deep whiff as she read the card attached. No surprise that it was from her husband.
I saw that you booked a room and I had to fix that. My queen only stays in suites. Love you Aurora Borealis and enjoy your time at NYFW. - Your Baby Daddy P.S. Hurry back so we can finish our job of making a sibling for Lyric.
Rorie couldn’t help but laugh at Lewis’ note. He always had a way of making her feel special and loved, even from thousands of miles away. She took a picture of the flowers and sent it to Lewis with a message thanking him for the surprise.
Rorie decided to take a quick shower before heading out to explore the city some more. As she turned on the water, her phone finally buzzed with a text from Lewis:
Just landed. Glad you’re safe and like the suite. Call you later?
She quickly typed out a reply:
Yeah. Call me whenever you’re free.
After her shower, Rorie dressed in a lounge set and sifted through emails while she waited for Lewis’ call. Around eleven in the morning, Rorie’s phone buzzed with an incoming FaceTime request from her husband. Despite the time difference, and being almost midnight in Singapore, he still managed to call her.
Rorie eagerly answered and was greeted with a tired but happy-looking Lewis. “Hey, babe,” he said, his voice warm and filled with love.
“Hi, baby,” Rorie replied, her heart melting at the sight of him.
“How was your flight?” Lewis asked as he settled into bed, propping himself up against the headboard.
“It was good. No delays or anything.” Rorie replied as she made herself comfortable on the couch in her suite.
“That’s good to hear. How’s the hotel?” Lewis asked, glancing around at the luxurious surroundings behind Rorie.
“It’s amazing. Thank you for surprising me with the suite.” Rorie smiled gratefully at her husband.
“I know how much you love your space and comfort. Plus, it’s only fitting for my queen to stay in a suite,” Lewis said with a smirk, making Rorie laugh.
They chatted for a while longer before Lewis announced that he needed to get some sleep since he had an early start in the morning. As they said their goodbyes and ‘I love yous’, Rorie couldn’t help but feel grateful for having such a loving and supportive husband.
Rorie decided to take advantage of her free time and explore the city. She started by walking through Central Park, taking in its beauty and serenity. She then made her way to Fifth Avenue to do some shopping.
As she walked into one of her favorite designer stores, she was greeted by friendly staff who recognized her from previous visits. After trying on several outfits and discussing options with one of the sales associates, she finally settled on a stunning red dress that hugged her curves perfectly.
Feeling satisfied with her purchase, Rorie continued exploring Fifth Avenue before heading back to the hotel to get ready for dinner with KiKi and some other friends. They decided to go to TAO Downtown for dinner. Rorie arrived at the restaurant and was greeted by KiKi and their friends with enthusiastic hugs. The group settled into their table, surrounded by plush velvet booths and dimly lit lanterns.
“Girl! You really out here doing big things!” KiKi exclaimed proudly at her beloved friend. “Thank you for the shoutout in your Bustle interview. Business has been crazy!”
Rorie smiled humbly, "You’re welcome, sweetie, and thank you."
The group ordered a variety of dishes to share, catching up on each other’s lives and reminiscing about old times.
After dinner, they headed to a rooftop bar nearby for drinks and dancing. They sipped on cocktails and danced under the stars, and it was nearing midnight when Rorie decided it was time to call it a night. Her body clock was still adjusting to the time difference, and she didn’t want to be exhausted for her first day of fashion shows tomorrow.
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Couple Days Later....
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Fashion Show. Photoshoot for a campaign. Meeting. Another meeting. Party. Fashion Show. Interview. Party.
Rorie’s schedule was packed for the week. Thus far, she attended three shows: Kate Spade, Brandon Maxwell, and Ulla Johnson. Tonight, she was attending the Khaite fashion show. The Khaite fashion show was held at a beautiful, ornate mansion in the Upper East Side. Rorie arrived early to ensure she could catch up with designer, Catherine Holstein.
As she walked through the doors of the mansion, she was greeted by the sounds of live music and the smell of fresh flowers. The venue was stunning, with high ceilings adorned with crystal chandeliers and marble floors.
Rorie found Catherine backstage, busy making finishing touches to her models' outfits. She hugged Rorie excitedly before showing her around and introducing her to some of the other attendees.
The show began shortly after, with Rorie seated in the front row amongst other A-list celebrities. She watched in awe as the models strutted down the runway in stunning pieces from Catherine’s collection. The designs were elegant, yet modern, and Rorie could see herself wearing many of them for future events.
After the show ended, Rorie posed for the paparazzi, flashing her most glamorous smile and striking a few poses. She knew these pictures would be all over the media tomorrow. Making her way out of the mansion, Rorie was stopped by a group of fans who wanted to take pictures with her. She happily obliged, feeling grateful for their support before hopping into her waiting SUV to be driven to yet another afterparty.
The afterparty was hosted at a popular hot spot in the Meatpacking District and filled with top models, designers, and other notable figures in the industry. The music was loud, and the drinks were flowing as Rorie mingled and caught up with everyone.
As she made her way to the bar for another drink, her phone began to vibrate with an incoming FaceTime call from Lewis. She made her a beeline to the balcony of the party venue, eager for a quiet place to catch up with her busy husband.
“Hey baby,” Rorie greeted him with a smile, admiring his handsome face on the screen.
“Hey beautiful,” Lewis replied, returning her smile. “How’s your day been?”
“It’s been amazing,” Rorie gushed, taking in the sights and sounds of New York City in the background. “I’ve attended some incredible shows today and met some amazing people. I've been keeping updated on everything. How do you feel about quali today?"
Lewis smiled at her question, knowing that she was always supportive and interested in his career. “I feel really good about it. I’ve been practicing hard and I think I have a good chance at qualifying well.”
Rorie nodded, impressed by his determination and dedication. “I have no doubt that you’ll do amazing. I wish you could be here with me though,” Rorie sighed wistfully.
“I know, baby,” Lewis said sympathetically. “But we’ll have plenty of time together after this hectic week is over.”
Rorie's phone rang, indicating another call, and it was Yael on the line. At the same time, Lewis’ phone chirped repeatedly from receiving texts.
"Baby, I have to take this," she said. "Yael keeps calling me about something."
"That's strange," Lewis remarked. "Penni won't stop texting me either. Let me call you back, my love."
Rorie quickly ended the FaceTime call with Lewis and answered Yael’s call. "Hey, what’s going on?" she asked.
"Rorie, we have a problem," Yael said urgently. "Penni and I have been on the phone for the last three hours trying to stop this, but we can’t."
Rorie felt her heart drop. "What happened? Is everything okay?"
"No, it's not okay," Yael replied. "The Sun just posted a story about your family. Something about an affair between your mother and her former boss."
"What do you mean they posted a story?" Rorie asked, feeling confused and a tad irritated.
"I mean exactly that," Yael said with frustration evident in her voice. "Someone leaked this story to them and now it's blowing up all over social media."
A feeling of despair washed over Rorie as she considered the repercussions this could have on her family. She had never had any contact with her biological father, and there were countless reasons for that. One being his irresponsibility and refusal to acknowledge her existence, despite being just as involved in the affair as her mother. But all that didn't matter, because her stepfather stepped up as a father figure and provided for her and her sister. Rorie never held her mother's mistake against her, but that didn't mean she wanted the whole world to know about it.
"We've been trying to do damage control, but it's spreading like wildfire," Yael said. "That’s not the worst of it though."
Rorie had a sinking feeling in her stomach as she listened to Yael's words. "What else is there?" she asked, dreading the answer.
"They were snooping around in your health records. They know about Lyric," Yael said, gravely. "I mean his full name, how he was conceived, everything, but they way there are twisting it…Jesus Christ, it’s fucking disgusting."
"What should I do?" Rorie asked desperately.
"We need you to come back to the hotel immediately," Yael said firmly. "We'll figure out our next steps from there."
Feeling overwhelmed and anxious, Rorie rushed out of the party and made her way back to the hotel as fast as she could. She tried calling Lewis on the way, but he didn't answer.
Once she arrived at the hotel, she was bombarded by reporters and paparazzi asking for a statement about the leaked information.
"I have no comment at this time," Rorie managed to say before being ushered inside by members of her team.
In their suite, Yael briefed Rorie on what had happened so far while mentioning that Penni was working on damage control.
"We're doing everything we can to contain this," Yael stated. "Obviously, this is a huge privacy violation. Penni spoke with your and Lewis’ lawyers—"
"Lawyers?" Rorie interrupted with surprise. "Why do we need lawyers? Did Lewis agree to this?"
Yael looked at her in disbelief. "You don't see this as a potential legal issue? Your personal information and your child's information was leaked without your consent."
Rorie felt a wave of panic wash over her. She hadn't even thought about the legal implications of this situation, she was too focused on the emotional toll it would take on her family.
"But we don't know who leaked it," Rorie said, feeling overwhelmed. "We only know that it was The Sun, correct?"
"Yes, but we have some leads. Nothing concrete yet," Yael replied. "And the story they published about your parentage is really fucked."
Rorie's heart sank as she thought about how this would affect her mother and stepfather. They had worked so hard to build their reputation and now it was being tarnished by tabloids.
"Have you talked to them yet?" Rorie asked, feeling guilty for not being able to protect them from this.
"I've been trying, but they're avoiding my calls," Yael said grimly. "I don't blame them, I wouldn't want to talk to me either if I were in their shoes. You should give them a call later."
"Yeah, I should. Fuck me." Feeling helpless and overwhelmed, Rorie slumped onto the couch in her suite. She couldn't believe how quickly things had spiraled out of control.
"Okay, let's go over our plan," Yael said, trying to stay focused.
"Plan?" Rorie asked confused.
"Yes, our damage control plan," Yael replied firmly. "We need to get ahead of this story before it gets even more out of hand."
Rorie nodded and listened as Yael outlined their plan of action. They would release a statement threatening legal action against anyone who violated her privacy and released this information.
Once her meeting with Yael was over, she spoke with her parents, who were understandably upset about the leaked information. They were worried about their reputation, but ultimately how this would affect Rorie and Lewis.
"We'll get through this together," Rorie assured them over the phone, fighting back tears.
"I just can't believe someone would do this to you," her stepfather, Greg sighed. "We'll have our lawyers look into it as well."
Rorie appreciated their support, but she couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal. Someone close to her must have been involved in leaking the information.
"How are you holding up, honey?" her mother, Marian, wondered. "They’re so nasty towards you about your IVF journey. Lord knows the pain you and Lewis went through in order to have Lyric…and they…I-I’m so sorry, Aurora."
Rorie took a deep breath, trying to hold back her emotions. "It's okay, Mom. We've been through worse," she said, though she didn't quite believe it herself.
"How’s Lewis? We didn’t hear from him yet," wondered Greg.
"He’s still speaking with Penni and our lawyers. He sent me a text not that long ago. I should be getting a call from him soon."
After her conversation with her parents, Rorie spent the rest of the night in a daze. She couldn't believe that someone had invaded her privacy and used her struggles with fertility against her. And to make matters worse, they were now dragging her family through the mud as well. As she lay in bed that night, unable to sleep, Rorie's mind raced with questions: Who could have done this? And why now?
She promised herself that whoever was responsible would face the severe consequences. Rorie never played games when it came to protecting her family, especially when it involved her child.
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TO BE CONTINUED.....
155 notes · View notes
emptysekai · 11 months
Text
guide to ad-free youtube for mobile via. youtube revanced
since youtube vance is no longer maintained and youtube is cracking down on adblockers here is how to download youtube revanced which has the best options for customising youtube features; including removing youtube shorts popups, sponsorship segments in videos, hiding unused buttons, bringing back dislikes, and more! [official revanced github]
this guide is for android only. sorry apple users idk how to help you. your device doesn't have to be rooted. even if it is, you should still be able to follow this guide. if you have youtube vanced installed, revanced shouldn't clash, so you don't have to uninstall it if you don't want to.
installation guide:
1. download all 3:
i. microg (this will let you log into your youtube account) [apk mirror] (scroll past description, download the latest one)
ii. revanced manager apk [github] (select the latest release, scroll to the bottom in assets, install the .apk file)
iii. latest youtube apk [apk mirror]
2. open revanced manager
3. select in this order: "patcher" -> "select an application" -> "storage" (note: if your phone asks you to let the app have storage access, say yes)
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[id. two screenshots of the revanced manager app. there are red markings drawn overtop, indicating areas to select mentioned in step 3. the three spots are circled by a red square, an arrow pointing towards it, and a circle with a marked number to indicate the order at the end of each arrow. id end.]
4. select the youtube apk you downloaded
5. select patches. you can tap "recommended" or "default" or turn on/off patches you want
6. once you have selected, select: "done" -> "patch"
7. wait as it intialises youtube revanced. when it's done select "install" (note: if your phone gives you a warning that the app is blocked, select: "more details" -> "install anyway")
8. if this worked, you should have youtube revanced installed, and you can log in like normal. if this didn't work, read the next part.
(under the read more are troubleshooting solutions + other alternative apps)
issue a) if the botom right now says "open"
1. select: 3 dots on the top right -> "export apk"
2. save it
3. open whatever file browsing app you use (most phones should have a default one that comes pre-installed called something like "files" or "my files". if you don't have one, you can go to the play store and search "files" and pick one. if you aren't sure, i use "files by google")
4. find the exported file and install it (it will be called something like "youtube-revanced-versionnumber.apk")
5. if this worked, you should have youtube revanced installed, and you can log in like normal. if this didn't work, you can read the next part.
issue b) can't build or install youtube revanced with no option to export
1. something may have gone wrong with the file installation at some point, so try a clean start. to do this, uninstall:
i. revanced manager
ii. youtube revanced
iii. microg
iv. (optional) disable/uninstall the default youtube app
2. follow guide from step 1 again, hopefully it works. if it's still not working, you can try other alternatives. i've listed some in the next part of this post
alternatives:
libretube, newpipe, songtube, vuetube, astron, puretuber
i haven't used any of these personally, but i haven't seen any problems with them. let me know if there are and i'll remove it from the list.
you can also use youtube through your web browser with adblock add-ons. i'm not sure whether youtube has affected their mobile site though. with the firefox app you can use ublock origins (for ads) + youtube high definition (for general quality fixes)
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honeytonedhottie · 2 months
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embodying the wellness girlie aesthetic⋆.ೃ࿔*:・🎀
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i rly love the pink pilates princess aesthetic so i thought i'd make a post on some habits that i've incorporated that rly fit this aesthetic. and improve my wellness in general.
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THE PLAYLIST : for the pink pilates princess aesthetic i rly love to listen to music that makes me feel like a doll~ so the playlist aspect of this post is totally customizable and just suited to however u wanna feel. i listen to a lot of twice and sabrina carpenter when i work out. but listening to music just elevates the experience
THE NUTRITION : u dont have to do a complete 180 in the things that u consume, instead start implementing little by little, foods and drinks that'll improve ur health. bcuz u glow differently when ur glowing not only from the outside but the inside as well
kombucha - i totally recommend trying it if u haven't before. its kind of carbonated and u can get it in any flavors. kombucha in a nutshell is tea thats been fermented. it heals ur gut and contains lots of probiotics which are good for ur body in general
drink tea - drinking tea daily is so so so good for you. if ur a bit intimidated by tea start off with a tea 99% of people enjoy, spearmint/peppermint tea. idk many people who DONT like spearmint tea. its just an easy tea to enjoy and its RLY good for ur skin and ur body.
smoothies - look up smoothie recipes online! smoothies are so yummy and customizable so if u dont wanna directly consume ur veggies, you can get them in through a drink! its revolutionary. my go-to is strawberry and banana, bcuz its not only delicious and good for me, but its also pink which is the main reason
eat more salads, açai bowls, eat ur oats, drink ur smoothies and of course dont forget ur matcha
supplements - u can find wellness vitamins or supplements virtually anywhere. a brand that i rly recommend is ollie. im taking their hair skin and nails vitamins and they're lovely.
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THE EXERCISE : if u go to youtube and look up follow along pilates workouts u can find SO many. use ur resources guys! if u try pilates and it isnt rly ur thing, try dance workouts or workouts for songs. try a workout challenge. working out doesn't have to be dull. the key is to find something that u enjoy doing and doing it consistently
SELF CARE : ofc the pink pilates princess prioritizes her self care time~ self care is just a good habit to incorporate period bcuz of the massive benefits on ur mental + physical + emotional state
do a face mask - hydrate ur skin guys
get ur nails done - the classic pink pilates princess nails are pale pinks and french tips
take a bubble bath - invest in a high quality bath bomb or bubble mixture that smells nice
invest in a gua sha
start oiling ur hair and putting in hair masks to keep ur hair healthy
write out what ur grateful for (self care isnt only physical)
GOING FOR WALKS : going for walks is amazing. walking improves cardiovascular health and reduces the chances of heart disease and strokes. i love to go for walks and listen to music or a podcast. just make sure that your walking in a safe space or with someone that u trust, especially if ur alone (stay safe <3) going for walks also helps clear ur thoughts!!
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ATTIRE : buy clothes that make u feel cute and that make u feel good whilst working out! i like to wear a lot of pink when working out~ when i type pink pilates princess inspired outfits into pinterest i see a lot with leg warmers too! i think that having a cute outfit to workout in motivates u a lot to actually perform the actions and embody the wellness girlie aesthetic. cuz when u look the part -> u feel the part
and last but not least ENJOY urself and romanticize it, have fun <3
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estherax · 11 months
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Generating plasm and stacking matchboxes: how to build a better future through collective consciousness.
Alternatively - Steban and Ulixes were building Tatlin's Tower so I have to talk about the symbolism or I will explode!!
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While completing the communist vision quest you get an opportunity to build a model of "The Tower of History", depicted on the last page of "A Brief Look at Infra-Materialism": a leaning tower wrapped in a dramatic helix. The scale model you make is a mirror image of Tatlin's Tower - a design for a grand monumental building to the Third International: the government organization advocating for world communism.
The main idea of the monument was to produce a new type of structure, uniting a purely creative form with a utilitarian form. Meaning it would function as an office building while also serving as a symbol of cultural significance. And let me tell you, this bad boy can fit so much symbolism in it.
Tatlin was commissioned to develop a design in 1919, after the 1917 February Revolution - a parallel to Disco Elysium's Insulinde we're witnessing post-Antecentennial Revolution.
Tatlin's work was inspired by high revolutionary goals, which are evident in the visual direction of the tower as well, expressing the ideological strive for achieving something that has never been done before, overcoming the odds. The structure "oscillates like a steel snake, constrained and organized by the one general movement of all the parts, to raise itself above the earth. The form wants to overcome the material and the force of gravity..."
The tower has meaning packed even in the materials. For example, the glass structures (marked A, B, C on the architectural rendering) were meant to serve legislative, executive and informative initiatives while rotating around their axes at different speeds. The material signified the purity of initiatives, their liberation from material constraints and their ideal qualities.
But here's the best part. The spirals.
"The spiral is the movement of liberated humanity. The spiral is the ideal expression of liberation: with its base set in the earth, it flees from the ground and becomes a symbol of the suspension of all (...) earthy interests." They are "the most elastic and rapid lines which the world knows" that represent movement and aspiration, continuing the themes of progress and freedom, but they also refer to something else.
In the process of building the matchbox model Rhetoric points out: "It's almost exactly as Nilsen's sketch imagined, a physical manifestation of the dialectical spiral of history."
The shape of the tower is a representation of dialectical development of history, first visualized as a spiral by G. W. F. Hegel. He pictured transformational change as "both linear and circular in order to be short-term responsive, i.e. possibly negating itself, and long-term strategic, i.e. a process of development."
Hegel's dialectics would later be reinterpreted through the prism of materialism by Marx and Engels to create dialectical materialism - the basis for historical materialism.
"Still, this idea, as formulated by Marx and Engels on the basis of Hegels’ philosophy, is far more comprehensive and far richer in content than the current idea of evolution is. A development that repeats, as it were, stages that have already been passed, but repeats them in a different way, on a higher basis, (...) a development, so to speak, that proceeds in spirals, not in a straight line; a development by leaps, catastrophes, and revolutions; (...) the interdependence and the closest and indissoluble connection between all aspects of any phenomenon (history constantly revealing ever new aspects), a connection that provides a uniform, and universal process of motion, one that follows definite laws - these are some of the features of dialectics as a doctrine of development that is richer than the conventional one."
The tower embodies progress in materialist understanding of history while also indicating the connection to ideological plasm, a manifestation of "the proletariat's embrace of historical materialism", necessary to create a better future.
According to Nilsen, the proletariat of a revolutionary state can generate enough plasm to create extra-physical architecture that "disregards the laws of 'bourgeois physics' and instead relies on the revolutionary faith of the people for structural integrity."
This function of plasm implies that The Tower of History can be created only under revolutionary circumstances - without a sufficient amount of plasm even the matchbox model didn't stay up. The exact same sentiment is expressed about Tatlin's Tower: "We maintain that only the full power of the multimillion strong proletarian consciousness could bring into the world the idea of this monument and its forms. The monument must be realized by the muscles of this power, because we have an ideal, living and classical expression the pure and creative form of the international union of the workers of the whole world."
Nilsen called it "the highest expression of Communist principles, a society whose literal foundation is the faith of its people."
Tatlin's Tower was a symbol of faith in the revolutionary future, the global triumph of Marxist socialism. A monument "made of iron, glass and revolution."
It was never built in real life, and neither was The Tower of History in the world of Elysium.
But you can try to see if there's enough plasm between the three of you. And the matchbox tower stays up for a long moment, quivering with an improbable energy. You believe it can say up - and it does.
So you have to believe; whether it's for collective action or generating ideological plasm. Then, together, maybe you'll be able to build as much as 0.0002% of communism.
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ennysbookstore · 4 months
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Cold Snap - Part I (Seonghwa x Reader)
Summary: When the Park family shows up to the Beyond Zero Ski Lodge a day before their reservation, you do your best to accommodate them. Too bad the most handsome Park is a major asshole.
Word Count: 3.01k
Genre/Warnings: slice of life, enemies to lovers(?), angst, fluff, cursing, Seonghwa's an asshole (he has his Karen moments lol), reader has low self-esteem but is NOT a pushover, mentions of alcohol, mention of blood (injury), no consistency with verb tenses hehe, lots of plot (I swear they interact more in the next part lmao)
This is a work of fiction, and it is not meant to be a realistic representation of any real person mentioned in any way, shape, or form.
In your experience, there is no better time to fall into a comfortable bed on a cold winter morning than at 7:00 am. Just as the guests of the lodge begin to wake and the breakfast begins to warm at the other end of the first floor at the Beyond Zero Lodge, you are ready to sleep the day away. 
You gather your sketchbook and pencils that are strewn across the front desk counter and shove them into your canvas bag. Now two weeks into your winter job as the night shift concierge at the lodge, your sleep schedule has grown accustomed to the odd work hours. You had jumped at the opportunity when it was offered on the student job board posted by your university. You weren’t looking forward to returning home for the holidays, and the desolate university campus wasn’t looking like a better option. 
When the owners offered a hefty hourly wage and living quarters to be a front desk concierge, you accepted the offer immediately. Your shift began late into the night at 11:00 pm and ended in the early hours of 7:00 am. Other than assisting the occasional hungry guest, you weren’t doing much concierging. Instead, you made laps around the impressive ground floor of the Beyond Zero Lodge or helped yourself to a meal kit from the kitchen. Though mostly, you spent your time studying and sketching the architecture of the lodge. 
The large glass windows and woodwork was attractive to the eye, and no doubt, incredibly out of your budget. The grand fireplace provided great warmth for the two-story building and was built to sustain the lodge if the power were to go out. The furniture and appliances were sleek and modern, yet fit comfortably into the rustic lodge. The large glass windows did good to keep the cold out, and in return, they let guests eye the sloping mountains and snow-sprinkled douglas firs, perfect for their skiing pleasures. This lodge, that is far too removed from the town below and much too quiet, has become your much beloved refuge for the winter break. 
In the past two weeks, you had been filling your sketchbook with the snow-topped trees and wooden details of the lodge. Tonight, you’ll tackle the bricked structure of the fireplace. If you were getting paid to sit around, you were going to perfect the details in your sketches to remember the luxury of this practically free experience. 
You log off the front desk computer and enter the employee’s lounge to get ready to punch out your paper time card. Despite the modern renovations and high-quality amenities, the owners were adamant on using time cards to combat the exceptionally slow internet connection and frequent blizzards. 
Just as you prepare to make the short trek up to your sleeping quarters on the second floor, your day-shift co-worker approaches you in a frenzy. 
“Hey, you already checked out?”
“Just about to head up. Everything okay?”
“The Park party’s here a day earlier than they're supposed to be, and not one of them speaks a word of English. Think you can translate for me?”
You wince at the mention of your hurriedly submitted resume which may have included a section dedicated to an intermediate understanding of the Korean language. You swallow nervously and nod, following her back to the front desk. 
You had been told about the Park party during your first day of training with the day-shift employees. They rented out all 6 rooms in the lodge for seven days and were the only guests the lodge would tend to for the entirety of the week. They’ve been frequent visitors of the lodge and had been making the trip to the lodge for the past decade. Usually, they were for the owners to worry about, but a family emergency dragged them across the country during the Park’s stay. Special orders from the owners mentioned that it was of the utmost importance that the Park party’s each and every need for their seven day stay is taken care of. 
At the front desk, you’re met with the sight of several members of a family swallowed in thick padding coats, scarves, and hats. Some are yelling into a phone, the children are weaving through the dining area, and a toddler is crying out for her toy. In the midst of the chaos, an older woman is trying to communicate with another day-shift employee, and you catch words here and there of the owner’s name and about her grandson making the reservation. 
Your co-worker logs onto a computer and attempts to speak over the crowd, “Do you have a reservation confirmation number?” The crowd quiets down and looks at her confusedly. At the silence, she turns to you panicked with widened eyes. 
You step forward and sling your canvas bag under the desk before translating. The crowd releases a collected sigh, and the older woman steps in front of you. 
“Oh, thank the heavens, a Korean-speaker all the way up in these mountains! What a blessing!” You shyly smile, processing her words. “My grandson, he speaks English, you see. He made the reservation for us months ago. I’m not understanding what’s going on,” she exasperatedly explains. 
“Did he send you an email? There will be a number in that mail that will help us confirm your reservation, and we’ll be able to help you settle into your rooms,” you said slowly. 
She nods and fishes out a phone from her pockets. You let out a breath in the hopes you’re speaking correctly. If there were any mistakes in your grammar or pronunciation, she was nice enough to not mention them. She shows you a reservation confirmation number, and you eye the reservation and point out to her, “Your reservation begins on the 23rd, tomorrow.”
She checks the screen, turns to her family, and then back to you, “Is there any way you can take us early? We’ve got nowhere else to go. We’ve barely made it up the mountain as it is.”
You turn to your co-worker and explain the situation. She sighs and rubs her eyes before turning her attention to the screen. “We can get the housekeeping staff to start with the checked out rooms, but it’ll still be a while before we can get them into clean rooms. We can get their luggage into the lobby and get them some warm breakfast, but it’ll take a couple hours before they’ll actually be able to settle in. That’s the best we can do for now. If that’s alright with them, we’ll get started right away.”
You relay the information back to the party, and they sigh in relief and nod in approval. “Okay, let’s get started,” your co-worker rises out of her seat. She turns to look at you, “I know this is major overtime, but do you mind sticking around until we get them settled in?”
You nod meekly, and soon after, your co-workers are covered in their coats and begin their venture to bring the party’s luggage indoors. Meanwhile, you assist the party to the dining area and restrooms. One-by-one, the thick paddings, scarves, and hats are peeled off to reveal high quality clothes. Clean silks, cashmeres, leathers and wools are revealed underneath. You take their coats into your hands and head to the hooks lined against the walls. You briefly eye the clothes and are unable to find a single logo. The Park party’s wealth was far beyond your comprehension. As members of the family shuffle in and out of the restrooms, you seat them at the wooden slab tables and help pile their plate with steaming eggs, pancakes and potatoes. 
In an attempt to speed up the housekeeping, both of the day-shift employees head to the second floor to assist the cleaning staff. Once every member of the Park party is seated and eating, you make your way to the front desk and plop into the chair. Your body is barely keeping up with you and the lack of sleep is beginning to weigh down on your eyes. You rub your eyes, and begin creating key cards for the Park party to keep your hands busy. The opening of the front door and the subsequent chill that follows makes you look up. 
Even in your dazed mood, you could recognize a good-looking guy when you saw one. His long legs created long strides, and his black, wool winter coat accentuated his thin waist. His black hair was quaffed up and back to reveal his forehead, and from his ears hung thin silver earrings. His eyes were big and black with eyelashes probably longer than your own. And his lips, wow. They were plush and pink. And very pretty. You wonder how they feel. Even his eyebrows were beautiful. Even and thick. And furrowed in anger directed at you. 
“What is the meaning of this?” His angry voice jumps you out of your daydream. You sit up straighter and attempt to blink the sleep away. 
“I’m sorry, sir. Is there an issue I can help you with?”
He scoffs and nods over to the rest of his family helping themselves to seconds in the dining area. “Why are our rooms not ready? We’ve spent all day and night traveling to get up here only to be sat in the lobby for who knows how long? This is unbelievable.” He crosses his arms over his chest and juts a leg to the side.
You were not trained to deal with hostile guests. In fact, you were assured it wasn’t necessary. While the guests of the past two weeks had been wealthy, they were abundant in their kindness. Thanking you for your help, being understanding of your slow service, tipping you for getting them a late night snack, wishing you a good morning and good night. A large number of them were too tired to even interact with you after a day on the slopes, simply nodding your way and sleeping the rest of their stay away. 
So when perhaps the most handsome member of the Park party, who you are being paid much too well to care for, raises his voice at you, you can only stare at him in silence.
“Well?” he looks down at you.
You clear your throat and begin, “Oh, you see, a misunderstanding may have occurred.” You pull up the reservation on the computer, “The Park party reservation was meant to come in tomorrow on the 23rd.” You turn the screen towards him and point out the date. Okay, issue resolved. Your statement was neutral and didn’t assign blame to one side or the other. 
“That’s not an excuse. My family has stayed here every year for the past several years. We always come on the same day, and we always leave on the same day,” he refutes. 
You pause again. What are you supposed to say? Your eyes flick over to the staircase in the hopes one of the day-shift employees might be making their way to you. The staircase remains empty, and you turn back to the handsome Park.
“I understand, sir, but unfortunately, your reservation technically begins tomorrow. We’re doing the best we can to accommodate your family one day earlier.” You hope your voice isn’t wavering. 
“This isn’t the way you treat returning customers. Especially those with elderly and children. And even more so, those who are renting out the lodge for the week entirely,” he says back. His hands rest around his hips. 
What was this guy’s deal? With your own brows furrowed, you stood up, “I’m not sure what else you want us to do, sir. We quite literally have all hands on deck. Maybe I can take your coat, and we can get you a warm breakfast as your rooms are being readied.” You gesture towards the rest of his family, who are more than happy swallowing down big mouthfuls of warm foods. 
He lets out a deep laugh. “Sure, and then, you don’t deal with the consequences of your actions. I don’t think so. Where are the owners?” he cranes his neck to get a glimpse of the empty employee’s lounge behind you. At the noise, the older woman makes her way towards you both.
“Seonghwa, what took you so long? Come son, let’s get some food in your stomach!” she exclaims in Korean and loops her arm around his elbow. You inwardly thank her for her timing and start settling back in the chair, when Seonghwa speaks up.
“Grandmother, you shouldn’t have to sit in the lobby after traveling for so long. You should be resting in your room,” he tells her in Korean. He turns to look you up and down, “We shouldn’t deal with this ridiculousness from some imbecile that can’t do their job properly. Why are the owners willing to pay someone like her?”
Ouch. Maybe you weren’t the best at confrontational situations, but this would’ve been a good day to not know any Korean. University does enough to break down your self-esteem, and you weren’t in the mood for a lecture. You rise out of your seat, ready to give Park Seonghwa a proper piece of your sleep-deprived mind. 
Seonghwa’s grandmother slaps his arm and tightens her grip around his elbow, “This young lady has been nothing but helpful. You apologize to her this instance, Park Seonghwa. I’m so sorry about his behavior, dear,” she speaks to you with a solemn look on her face. You calm at her words. 
If the handsome Park was taken aback at your small, “It’s alright,” in his native language, he didn’t show it. You make your way around the front desk to lead him and his grandmother back to the dining area. He manages to pry his grandmother’s arms off his and shrugs off his black coat. He shoves the coat into your arms without sparing you a second glance and joins his family at the table, his face expressionless and cold. 
You smile at the rest of the party, now warm and full of food. With Park Seonghwa’s coat in your hand, you retreat to hang it with the rest of the coats and catch the scent of warm vanilla and saffron from his cologne. He smells good, too. You let out a tired sigh. Too bad he’s a major asshole. 
Between helping the chef clear out dishes from the Park family’s breakfast and switching through multiple channels of the televisions on the first floor, you knew you weren’t going to make it to your room before noon. Your legs were beginning to feel as heavy as your eyes.
The television in the dining room was turned on to a morning drama, while the television in the front of the lodge was turned on to a cartoon, and the television in the back was turned on to the local university basketball game. The Park party separated into three smaller groups and situated themselves in front of the televisions. The overload of noises wasn’t doing much to help your sleepy brain, but you were doing the best you could to be a host. 
Seonghwa sat with arms crossed on the couch in front of the fireplace, not exactly watching the cartoons but not doing nothing either. Occasionally, he looked out the glass windows at the snow-topped trees and mountains, but quickly redirected his attention back inside the lodge. He looked misplaced between the giggling children, dressed in a myriad of colors and full of energy. During the advertisement breaks, they jumped off the couches and climbed over his shoulders and snaked between his legs, almost as if he were an obstacle course there for their entertainment. He sat still, unmovingly, letting them. 
From the front desk, you thought you could feel the same sleepiness that was radiating off of you, radiating off of Seonghwa as well. And momentarily, you felt bad. You now knew the feeling of wanting nothing more than to be in a warm bed to sleep the exhaustion away all too well. One of the little girls tugged on Seonghwa’s hands. He lightly shook his head, but she tugged once again, this time with a pout decorating her face. But even in your tiredness, you were trying to be as helpful as you could be. You were shooting out smiles and on your feet the instance someone from the Park family needed something. You weren’t sitting moodily on a couch. Not that you could afford to anyways. He sighed and shook his head at the girl again. 
“Hey, we’re finally done,” your day-shift co-worker taps your shoulder. You jolt in surprise and look away from the scene. Your co-worker sits down heavily next to you with a sigh. “This is going to be a rough week,” she rolls her shoulders and several pops escape from her neck. “Okay, you’re almost home free. Just help me assign them their rooms, and you can go get some well-needed rest.”
Potentially dealing with the handsome Park again leaves a sour taste in your mouth. You swivel the chair towards your co-worker, “I’m really sorry, but I don’t think I can stay awake any longer. The tall one on the couch speaks English.” You point your eyes to Seonghwa. 
Your co-worker looks back to the clock hanging up behind you and widens her eyes. “Of course, I totally get it. I didn’t even realize the time. Thanks for handling them for so long, you should get some sleep,” your co-worker studies your face sympathetically.
You thank her and reach for your crumpled canvas bag under the desk. You make your way out of the employee’s lounge to the staircase and begin to make your way to your room. A sharp shriek and giggle stops you. From the staircase, you turn back to see that the cartoon has resumed, and the little girl was now resting on Seonghwa’s lap, snacking on candies from his hands. You turn around and make your way back to your room.
Taglist: @aaasia111 , @atinytinaa , @yunho-mp3
Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading! I have three more planned parts for Cold Snap, and it'll definitely exceed the 10k word count I had originally planned (part II is already at 5k without proofreading lol)! Please tune in next week for Part II, which comes out on December 8th at 6:00 pm CST!!! Please feel free to write and send feedback! Much love to you all <3 (crazy form goes too hard for you not to stream)
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leclerc-s · 10 days
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track 001. right where you left me
─── ❝ break-ups happen every day, you don't have to lose it ❞ ───
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series masterlist // next
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liked by louis_graham, isabellaperez, babs.rodriguez and others
dulceperez it's hell week and i'm struggling to cope
view all comments
isabellaperez never have i ever been more grateful for online school
↳ dulceperez we get it you travel for funsies and i get stuck with crippling student dept.
↳ isabellaperez what fucking debt? tio checo said he'd pay for your schooling!
↳ dulceperez alright then, i get the crippling student anxiety.
maejones you got this baby!
↳ dulceperez i really don’t! tell max to send the red bull i’m going to need it, i know you two are still besties!!
↳ maxverstappen1 did checo cut you off again?
↳ dulceperez YES!! SEND HELP!! SOS!!
louis_graham still can’t get over the fact that you know f1 drivers.
↳ dulceperez my uncle is an f1 driver?
↳ babs.rodriguez forget it lou, she won’t understand. she probably grew up around michael schumacher or something.
↳ isabellaperez well, you’re not wrong
mickschumacher if you die can i keep your couch?
↳ dulceperez what the fuck schumacher?
↳ mickschumacher it’s a very comfortable couch.
↳ freyavettel he’s right, it’s very comfortable. i’ve had some great fucking naps on it.
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louis graham so the f1 drivers in your comments are just normal?
dulce perez pretty much, yeah
dulce perez we live in monaco, you're telling me you've never ran into like lewis or charles? hell nico lives in monaco.
barbara rodriguez never. louis graham nope.
dulce perez huh, it's not like monaco's that big. i run into my ex all the time. granted he's like best friends with my sister.
barbara rodriguez who the fuck is your ex? and why is your sister best friends with him? dulce perez because she can be? i'm not going to tell her "oh no isa, you can't be friends with arthur because we broke up." dulce perez they were friends way before we dated.
louis graham so his name is arthur? interesting, one look at your sister's instagram tells me that you dated the one and only arthur leclerc.
barbara rodriguez a leclerc? you dated a leclerc? and you let him get away?
dulce perez look, he was busy with racing and i was busy with school. it wasn't going to work out between us so we just broke up.
louis graham interesting how you two still follow each other.
dulce perez we're still friends. that wasn't going to change because we dated.
barbara rodriguez 9 times out of 10, people fall in love all over again.
dulce perez not me. i won't.
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dulceperez posted new stories
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low quality picture, high quality girl or some fucking corny shit like that. who the fuck gave this guy alcohol?
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arthur leclerc does she have a boyfriend? who is he?
mae jones what is this nerd going on about?
isabella perez is this about my sister?
arthur leclerc forget i asked. isabella perez so it is about my sister.
mick schumacher is this about the guy on her story?
isabella perez that's just louis. one of her roomates. remember arthur? they became friends when she started school. arthur leclerc oh. yes. i remember.
freya vettel oh he's totally still in love with her.
lando norris honestly arthur just tell her. get it over with.
bailey winters i doubt you should be giving people advice.
lando norris oh seriously! we get it, i fucked up! isabella perez oh you royally fucked up norris.
lando norris oh be quiet isabella, how many times have you broken up with austin by now?
isabella perez my relationship has nothing to do with this! focus on arthur and my sister!
mick schumacher i can't believe i'm saying this, but how are freya and i the only ones that are mentally healthy??
isabella perez because arthur is stupid. mae is in denial about her feelings. i'm codependent. lando is a dumbass. bailey is collateral damage to lando's dumbassery. AND YOU'RE IN FUCKING DENIAL!! SO IS FREYA!!
freya vettel wow. can't wait for the day all of you are mentally healthy and in healthy relationships.
mae jones at this rate isabella's doomed to divorcing and remarrying austin like 7 times. isabella perez literally fuck you. stop writing songs about max!
bailey winters you're all insane.
arthur leclerc you are too bailey.
mae jones don't worry arthur. i know how to figure out if you'll be seeing her soon arthur leclerc oh no. that's not good.
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mae jones odds of seeing dulce at the monaco gp this year?
dulce perez that depends am i allowed to take my emotional support idiots? isabella perez i thought i was your emotional support idiot? max verstappen ooh she's been replaced.
esteban ocon i think we're better off asking what are the odds charles finishes the race.
charles leclerc this is why you've never won a race bitch.
daniel ricciardo who the fuck are her emotional support idiots?
dulce perez my roomates
lando norris BOOO!! WE'RE YOUR EMOTIONAL SUPPORT IDIOTS!!
lewis hamilton you may be an idiot but i am not.
mae jones we're her emotional support chaos gremlins natalia ruiz that makes more sense.
max verstappen you should ask checo if you can bring your friends, not us.
dulce perez i did. he said yes. see all of you back in monaco. dulce perez i just have to ask them.
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dulce perez thoughts on attending the monaco grand prix?
barbara rodriguez on my bucket list but currently too broke.
louis graham also on my bucket list but without means of going.
dulce perez i feel like we're forgetting that my uncle is literally an f1 driver??
louis graham SHUT THE FUCK UP!! TELL ME YOU DIDN'T?!! barbara rodriguez NO FUCKING WAY!! I KNEW GOING TO SCHOOL IN MONACO WOULD PAY OFF!!
dulce perez wow. way to use me.
louis graham listen, we love you. you're great. but attending the monaco grand prix is such a dream.
barbara rodriguez I GET TO MEET SIR LEWIS HAMILTON!! YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH THIS MEANS TO ME!!
dulce perez we're going to support red bull not mercedes.
barbara rodriguez yeah but red bull doesn't have lewis hamilton does it?
louis graham personally, i will be supporting aston martin. wherever sebastian vettel is that is where i am.
dulce perez traitors both of you.
barbara rodriguez ARTHUR IS LITERALLY A FERRARI ACADEMY DRIVER! SHUT UP! YOU'RE THE BIGGEST TRAITOR OF ALL!!
dulce perez WHO THE FUCK TOLD YOU THAT?
louis graham we went stalker mode. we had to find out everything about leclerc.
barbara rodriguez he's a cutie. why the hell did you dump him?
dulce perez we are not talking about this.
louis graham BOOO!! AS THE CHILDREN SAY, SPILL THE TEA SIS!!
dulce perez no!
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babs.rodriguez, louis_graham, dulceperez posted new stories
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who let me be here?? where is lewis hamilton??
holy shit!!
VAMOS TIO CHECO!!
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pierre gasly soo...dulce
dulce perez before you ask no. pierre gasly like not even a little bit?
rowan todd why must you ask this, you idiot?
pierre gasly i'm an instigator
dulce perez the answer is no because he has a girlfriend, you moron.
charles leclerc but if he didn't have a girlfriend?
dulce perez you too?
charles leclerc ANSWER THE QUESTION PEREZ!
dulce perez no. not my type.
isabella perez ARTHUR! WHO WAS THE CUTE GUY ON THE PODIUM?! THE PREMA GUY!!
max verstappen SHE'S GOT A CRUSH! arthur leclerc oscar? isabella perez brb gonna go stalk his instagram.
freya vettel anyone is better than a*stin
arthur leclerc trust me when i say he's 100 times better than that guy.
mae jones WAIT! WHO'S YOUR TYPE DULCE??!
natalia ruiz perhaps monégasque? rhymes with shmarthur? dulce perez you people are insufferable. daniel ricciardo THAT WASN'T A NO!
mick schumacher arthur just probably let out the biggest sigh of his life.
arthur leclerc at least i'm not in denial about my feelings. mick schumacher HEY! WE'RE NOT TALKING ABOUT ME! AND YOU SHUT YOUR MOUTH LECLERC!!
sebastian vettel i should consider retirement. that would mean i wouldn't have to deal with this.
fernando alonso i retired and they didn't let me leave. there is no hope for us.
lewis hamilton i told you that your biggest mistake would be showing weakness to max.
max verstappen YOU'RE THE ONE WHO COMFORTED ME FIRST! NOT SEB! lewis hamilton oh sure, i was just supposed to leave a kid out, crying in the rain because his girlfriend had just broken up with him? mae jones sorry, what?
daphne jones idiots, all of you
esteban ocon how's that hidden relationship going for you daphne? daniel ricciardo it's not our fault they haven't figured it out yet, now is it? lewis hamilton and i'm currently in the lead to win this bet so zip it ocon.
isabella perez GUYS! CUTE PREMA GUY IS SINGLE!!
lance stroll at least one thing is still normal around here.
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¡leclerc-s speaks! and thus it begins! okay, listen, i love ross, for story purposes he younger than he actually is. idc what anyone says. i don't if i like this 100% but i'm still posting it.
¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!
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