I'm Having Fun - Blog Posts

Characters From a Story My Friend and I Have Been Writing.

(Early Designs so they are likely to be changed in the future.)

Jeffery the Dapper

Lucia the Weird

Pebble the Judgey

Grahvell the Meh

(Title subject to change, I made her design 'too interesting'. So now my friend wants to write more about her.)

\/ Minor Charcters \/

Pennie the Generous

Damien the forgetful

Hoy hace 1 años que llegué a Tumblr. 🥳

I remember signing up for Tumblr just to look for amazing pictures and drawings, I didn't think I would end up getting addicted to all the content found here. It wasn't until recently that I started throwing my ideas around as well and finding other people with the same interests as me, Tumblr is a great site and I hope to continue for many more years!ʕ⁠´⁠•⁠ ⁠ᴥ⁠•̥⁠`⁠ʔ Happy first anniversary to me! (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

If you see this you’re legally obligated to reblog and tag with the book you’re currently reading

I AM A BOOPER BREAKER!!! BOOPS FOR ALL!!!

Tumblr is Great

Obviously not sponsored since I'm literally nobody here, but it's genuinely so cool that I can post my headcanons, thoughts, and theories without feeling like I'm lost in the shuffle.

I cannot say just how amazing it is that I could be analyzing how the Force works in the shower and realize... I have a place to put that now. It's not just me and whoever is willing to listen to me ramble about my stupid shit. Now other people are reading my stupid shit... and they like it.

Now again, I am small. Just a few days ago I reached 100 likes added together from... 7 posts + a repost. Which is bananas! But not someone whose... y'know, big. But the little that I have is honestly just great.

I mean... I'd seen a lot of Tumblr posts filled with amazing content, but I still didn't get an account. Idk why, just felt like I didn't need it or that I'd never use it. Or maybe it was just stubbornness towards the end. I needed a good reason. Something I could only find here.

That was when I found out about an obscure Batman character named Lance Bruner (I made a post about him, u should read it). I wanted art of him. It only existed here. They cut me off the "Classified: jk make an account :) and I did. And honestly, I'm really glad I did. This is pretty worth it. This is the most I've ever posted on a platform (unless you count the comment section) and honestly, and most importantly, I'm having fun.

Gaz angst part 2??? (141 side)

Soap didn't even get a goodbye or a text from Kyle. He heard from Price that Kyle had been requested to Farah temporarily, meaning it was when Farah said he could come back.

Soap was sad and hurt. Why hadn't Kyle said anything to him? They were best friends! They shared everything with each other. But, apparently not everything was said. He had thought that them finally being in a romantic relationship would bring them together even more, closer than ever.

It had the opposite effect.

Soap and Kyle remained...stagnant. while he got closer to Ghost and even more closer to Price, with Kyle nothing changed besides the adding the sex and the kissing. There was no new findings or sudden revelations, nothing the way that happened with the other two.

It reached a point, when the new sergeant appeared, that Kyle started to hide. He didn't spend much time together with the others, it got to a point that suddenly who was soap prank partner was the new sergeant, the one that went to the club was the new sergeant, and every single activity that he used to do with Kyle, it was done with the new sergeant.

And now...Kyle was already on the plane when Soap got to the departing zone. No words left for him, just a mere "I don't think so" said to Price.

Although Soap was perceptive, quite observant, and always in tune with his loves emotions, Soap cannot find what happened, what led to this moment, what did they do to end up like this.

Ghost knew the reason for this, but he didn't do anything about, so he was as much guilty as the other two.

And it was crushing him inside.

Ghost saw how while soap, him and Price were getting closer, keeping already formed and constructed old bonds, Kyle was being left behind, with no ways of bonding the same way they did.

The 3 of them bonded over past interactions that led to friendships, over traumas and dark moments because they had them, over being men with scars so deep. They had foundation to bond even more, but Kyle hadn't, Kyle appeared at that moment, Kyle went through the normal processes of military, Kyle had a good family, Kyle had lively a fairly uneventful life and that made him the sore thumb in their relationship because...how could they bond.

Kyle tried, oh how ghost saw the youngest sergeant try every book in the game, but the fruit of his efforts could no grow because they didn't allow him to. Ghost realized that he didn't know anything about Kyle besides what his file said. He didn't know what the man liked, what he did in his free time, his interests, his talents, his flaws. Ghost realized, as the new sergeant made way and fitted exactly in Kyle's spot, that Ghost only saw Kyle as a military asset, not as his lover or friend, he only saw Kyle's performance, nothing more.

As he watched the plane go, slightly behind soap, that they deserved this, they deserved a silent disappearance from Kyle.

Ghost heart silently crushed as he saw what they had done.

Price didn't even go see Kyle depart.

Alex had called him, scolded him that almost asked for a write up, but Price it was coming from a close friend to another, and the captain knew that he deserved that scolding and much more. Alex then passed the phone to Farah, but she spoke calmly and short, which made Price feel even worse.

"I warned you about Kyle, and I gave u an out because I would act if u hurt him and you did, I hope all that stupid effort you did was worth this out come."

He should had gone and seen Kyle depart, but he didn't feel dignified or even worth of it. Price had hurt the most fragile member of their four way relationship, after many warned about it.

He needed to get ready for Laswell disappointment, she being the one person that cautioned him the most.

Price had sworn to protect Kyle heart and mind. Kyle's anxiety was a constant barrier in his life, a reminder that he wasn't as strong as he thought he was, his feelings always easily coming to the surface. He was fragile, more than the others thought he was, and Price promise the young man that he would protect.

Look what happened.

They pushed him away, consciously or not put him in a category under them because his live was not as complicated as theirs. They created his relationship where it was 3 plus Kyle because they sometimes remember he existed. The new sergeant worsen that because this man had a similar life as them, broken by other and scarred as much them, so they pushed Kyle back fully.

They broke Kyle enough to make him excited to leave them, to not believe they loved him.

As the plane flew, Price sat on his office, tears silently running down his face, knowing that he broke a promise made to his love.

Yaotl you did what

I like that NieR Automata has a secret difficulty setting to adjust that the game doesn't really tell you is a difficulty setting. And that's the companion aggressiveness thing. I like playing without the helper character because it means I have to 1. Learn more about enemy combos and behavior and 2. Feel like normal difficulty is more difficult without massively changing an aspect of the game like the jump from normal to hard.

Also just as a side note: man, I really appreciate the opening moments of the boss fight in the desert city on the second playthrough, hits really hard.

THE DEAL || CA

———————————————————————

part 1 of ??

summary: Carlos hated having a PR manager especially one who was his age. Convincing her to leave was the best plan he'd ever had, but what happens when he realises he doesn't want her to go when it's too?

pairing: carlos alcaraz x fem!reader

warnings: enemies to lovers, kind of asshole Carlos

a/n: this is going to be a series, I’m excited about it!! Let me know what you guys think and if you want to be on the taglist!

MASTERLIST

Being Carlos Alcaraz's PR manager was not for the weak. The job description seemed like it would be a breeze and when your boss had suggested switching F1 drivers for tennis players you really believed you’d be getting the quieter deal.

You’d occasionally watched tennis and it seemed the biggest issue you’d face was a broken racquet.

Carlos should’ve been even easier, he didn’t have a girlfriend and never seemed to be pictured with any women so the most frustrating part of the job was gone.

But Carlos didn’t want a PR manager. He certainly didn’t want a PR manager that was his age telling him what to do and how to act.

The first time you met you thought you’d caught him on a bad day not recognising the cold brown eyes stare watching you.

You’d prepared for your job, watching interviews and clips of Carlos before you started and the arms crossed man that soon in front of you was not the ball of sunshine from the videos you’d seen.

You had to admit you’d been looking forward to the job at first, a funny, charismatic, attractive tennis player should’ve been fun. You’d seen the way Carlos treated him like family and you were expecting the same attitude.

But quickly things turned. You’d watch training frequently, observing from the sidelines picking up the terms and technical parts of his game for notes and interviews.

Carlos would be laughing with Juan Carlos or his brother or one of the other members of his team when his eyes would meet yours.

In a second his eyes would go from lighting up to narrowing in on you, his laugh disappearing and posture going rigid.

At first, it was manageable, your job could mostly be done from a distance and you could deal with hardened stares.

You thought it would be temporary, that once he realised you were here to stay you’d finally get to meet the Carlos everyone else did.

But it seemed with every interaction his facade grew. A team dinner after Turin you just so happened to be on the furthest end of the table, and while Carlos took the time to talk to his entire team you found yourself left out of the conversation.

Juan Carlos spent months reassuring you that Carlos would get over it but the winter break was ending and with a new season on the horizon you didn’t know how much more you could take.

You were starting to get exhausted by Carlos constantly making your life more difficult.

You were missing deadlines because he wouldn’t give you answers to questions, doing damage control when he posted near nudes on the internet and made sure reporters didn’t piss him off with dumb questions.

Every week that went by you slowly lost the confident attitude the team had got used to seeing, quietly sat in the corner working away rather that trying to involved.

Juan Carlos had noticed the shift in demeanour but he feared there wasn’t much he could do. It was between you and Carlos to figure out.

...

It was the weekend before the Australian Open when you were ready to snap.

The time difference was rough, with your eyelids feeling heavy but sleep escaping you. You sat surrounded by work that you needed to done, while your room called your name.

The day had already been too long, landing in Australia at seemingly the crack of dawn when you realised your bags hadn’t made it to Australia with you.

You’d spent three hours arguing with airport staff when you decided to give up and hope they found their way to the hotel.

You went straight to watching Carlos train, taking media photos and organising some content for the day. That in itself was excruciating as everything you asked him to do took ten times longer than it should’ve.

But now you were sat in your hotel, tired and drained and desperately needing a change of clothes.

You were trying to organise Carlos' media plan for the first week of the tournament, but trying to get him to respond to any of your messages was infuriating.

You needed his answers to the pre-planned questions so you could check them over and give him some nice talking points about off-season but every time you checked your messages you were met with 'delivered'.

It wasn't late, but the jetlag was beginning to hit you which was feeding into your anger. Every second that Carlos ignored your messages was a second you were missing sleep.

Just as you were ready to give up assuming he’d gone to sleep, you received a notification that he’d posted on his Instagram story. That was your last straw.

You audibly groaned, slamming your laptop shut and storming out of your room with it under your arm. You marched yourself to the elevator angrily tapping your foot as the elevator seemed to move at the slowest pace ever.

The ding echoed in your brain, and as you stepped out you were hit with a new wave of anger. You heard his dumb laugh echoing through the walls. This dumb, annoying, stupid tennis player was laughing while you had been begging for him to respond to a simple message.

You stormed down the hall, your chest angrily pounding. You were at the end of your tether. You were so tired of dealing with this man baby.

It had been months of being ignored, ostracised and treated like you had some kind of contagious disease and you were over it.

You stood before his door and knocked repeatedly. You heard him call out that he was coming and you prepared yourself to greet him.

The door swung open, a cheesy grin on his face as he turned see who was at the door. The second he clocked you it faded and was replaced with a nonchalant stare.

He opened his mouth no doubt to ask why you were here but you pushed past him into the hotel room. Juan Carlos and a few other members of the team were in the room and immediately as they saw you they went silent.

"if you wouldn't mind. Alcaraz and I need to get some work done and clearly, he can't handle any distractions." A few of the guys snickered and they didn’t waste any time standing up and heading for the door.

You heard Juan Carlos wish the Spaniard luck as he walked past. Laughing as he patted him on the back. The door closed and Carlos scoffed as you situated yourself on his sofa.

"¿Qué carajo?" (What the fuck?) The Spaniard's tone made you laugh, a dry, fed-up kind of laugh.

"What the fuck indeed. Sit down, shut up and only talk when I tell you to." He looked at you utterly bewildered.

"You know you're supposed to work for me? not the other way around." God you wanted to kill him. You stood up angrily turning to face him with fire in your eyes.

"Funnily enough, that is what I'm trying to do. That is what I have been trying to do for months but for some reason you want to make that as hard as humanly possible for me. Frankly, I'm fed up so sit the fuck down. please."

"No." He stood his ground and crossed his arms as you really considered attacking him.

"I'm sorry what?"

"I don't want to." He turned to head to the small kitchenette, turning on the coffee machine that sent an infuriating buzz throughout the room.

“I don’t want to be stood here, but because you can’t answer a simple text, I am. So please let me do my goddamn job for once.” He scoffed, and leaning against the counter,

“Maybe I didn’t answer your text because I don’t want to answer the questions, ever thought about that?” His stupid grin made you want to throttle him.

"Well Carlos Alcaraz, the almighty. Unfortunately for you I need those answers so how do I get you to sit there and answer these dumb questions." your sarcasm permeated the room.

He paused for a moment, a slight hesitation as he reached for the mug on the side. He turned slowly to face you, a look of pure genius on his face.

"Quit." He moved around the counter calmly, standing in front of you. You hadn’t been this close to the Spaniard since the day you met him.

The invisible 3 feet rule seemingly being implemented by him after the first day.

"What?" Your confusion clearly entertained him as he smiled an evil, sort of confronting smile.

"I'll do what you want for the entire tournament. But at the end of it, you quit." You paused, the tension from the last few months piling up on your shoulders. Did he really hate you that much?

You weren't a quitter, you believed in working hard and figuring out issues. But Carlos had been treating you like an outcast for months and if it meant never having to deal with him again you were seriously considering it.

"One question?" Carlos raised his eyebrow and he zoned in on your focused demeanor.

"seguir." (go on.)

"Why do you hate me so much?" His calm demeanour faltered slightly, something flashing through his gaze that you couldn't quite decipher before it was quickly replaced with indifference.

He grabbed the mug, and moved to the sofa, lazily sitting down. His arm rested along the back and he glanced up at you.

"I don't need a PR manager and I'm sick of you treating me like a child when you're my age." The answer nipped at the back of your brain. You rarely treated him like less that he deserved and if you did it was only ever in retaliation.

"Maybe if you acted your age I wouldn't have to." He scoffed, shaking his head in annoyance.

"It's clear you don't want to be here either, just take the deal." You dropped yourself onto the sofa. Your laptop sat beside you and you let your head fall into your hands. You were defeated.

"I wanted to be here." You didn’t look up but if you had you would’ve seen Carlos’ gaze soften, a pang of guilt hitting him before it was quickly shoved away.

You thought back to your previous job. Travelling the world with F1 drivers had been difficult but those guys had become your friends, you loved your job and you had fun. You wanted this to be like that but it was clear that wasn’t going to happen.

Maybe it was time for you to find something else.

“Fine you win.” You let your hands fall to your sides, your gaze lifting and meeting the brown eyes that made your life a misery.

"I'll quit at the end of the tournament, but you have to give full energy to everything and I need a pair of pyjamas, my luggage got lost.” His eyes lit up with some sort of amusement. At your troubles or you’d you were sure but you needed a solution and he offered one.

Carlos smirked, the first time he'd even remotely smiled in your direction. He moved himself within touching distance of you, reaching out his hand for you to shake.

You interlocked your hand with his, his eyes baring down on you.

"Deal."

————————————————————————

taglist: @champagnecoastca

Heathers/chanduke head Canon: there’s definitely a part of their dynamic where Heather constantly makes Heather ugly laugh before Heather instantly tells her to shut up.

Heather or Veronica keeps score I’m sure.

I believe in Heather Duke supremacy 

No one:

God is so silent in here did I lose my hearing?

Ozpin: y’all wanna turn into some birds?

Raven and Qrow: