#& the one time ever ( today ) i actually post it

[landopoet]

two prizes.

pairing lando norris x journalist!reader

warnings smut, oral (fem receiving), mentions of alcohol

synopsis that day was not the first time you and lando had met, and he helps you remember that

author’s note posting my older works, thanks to @clovermoters for the collage up top!

♯

Excitement pulsed through your veins at the mere sound of engines roaring.

The amount of people trying to push past you made you anxious, but you knew it was all part of the experience. Everyone was bunching up to watch one of the greatest events of all time— the Miami GrandPrix.

Once you make it through the crowd, avoiding elbows and shoulders of people much taller and energetic than you, the entrance that you need comes into view.

You weren’t just excited for the interviews you were going to watch up close, but also the entire concept of the race. The hustle of engineers in all these garages, working their hardest to get the drivers in and out of the pits with minimal time to waste. Not to mention the drivers themselves, having to sit in the cars for multiple hours over the race weekend with no complaints— they chose to do this, they deal with the consequences.

That’s exactly what excited you. The reasoning for their choice to do this, you wanted to ask each and every one of them why they wanted to do this, what was so interesting?

You guessed their answer would be the same as yours if you were asked why you became a sports journalist.

Keeping your amazement at bay, you observed the race, focused on everything going on even though it was a lot to keep up with. But that’s exactly what you were there for.

You were sitting in the grandstands, intently watching the cars fly past you, when your phone rang. The caller ID said it was your coworker who had also been at the race but disappeared about ten minutes ago.

“Hello?”

She sounded distressed when you heard her voice. “Hey, love. I was wondering if you could take over the post-race interviews?”

Today was supposed to be a sort of intern day for you, meaning you were just going to watch your colleague interview the drivers and better understand what the etiquette is for it. You hadn’t expected to have your first interview today.

“Uh, why?” You asked, in a whisper. “You know I’ve never interviewed anyone before, right?”

“So?” She seemed much more confident in you than you were in yourself. “You’ve studied journalism for a few years now, yeah? I don’t think you’d have taken an internship at SkySports for nothing.”

“I mean, I guess?” You shrug. “I’m not sure if I’m ready to speak to actual drivers, though. What if I make a fool of myself?”

“You won’t if you remember that they’re just people doing their jobs, and you’re doing your job by asking them questions.” She makes a good point and you sigh in defeat.

“Alright, I’ll do it. Send over the information you’ve written.”

“Sorry.” You hear her slightly laugh. “You gotta fend for yourself with that one, hun. It’s a cruel world we live in. Cheers.”

With that, the call ended and you were left with nothing but anxiety weighing on your shoulders. The rest of the race seemed to fly by in mere minutes, your mind too focused on the pressure of your first ever interview.

Well, not first ever.

You imagined the day would come sooner or later, so you’d practise a conversation with one of the drivers by speaking to yourself in the mirror. That, and watching multiple interviews through the years, soaking up every bit of information you could about the process of it.

Before you knew it, you were standing in a sea of people with their cameras, waiting for the drivers to make their way to you.

It wasn’t that nerve wracking when you actually started talking to them, and by the time you got to Daniel, you had lost all feelings of anxiety, instead laughing along to his jokes.

You thought so, at least. A feeling of intimidation crawled up your spine when your eyes locked with Lando Norris, a driver for Mclaren. You noticed the piercing look from across the room as he spoke to a different interviewer, his green pupils tracking your every move as you spoke to Oscar.

The interview with Oscar wraps up and he begins turning away from you. “Good luck on your next race!”

Oscar smiled at you as he walked off to somewhere you could only guess.

If you had been anxious before, you were probably five times as anxious now, because Oscar Piastri leaving the spot in front of you meant that Lando Norris would be replacing him. And, for whatever reason, he was making you incredibly nervous.

You looked down at the ground as Lando approached you, waiting to hear what you had to say. You couldn’t bear looking up at him, knowing he’s already staring at you. But it was part of your job and you had to stay professional.

“Hello, Lando.” You said, cheerily.

“Hi,” he grinned at you, sweaty and all, his dimples appearing for a split second. “How are you?”

“I’m alright, thanks, how was the race?” You asked with a smile, ignoring the butterflies in the pit of your stomach when he smiled at you again.

Lando’s green eyes studied your face, soaking up each detail he missed since the last time he had seen you. He knows you don’t remember him and he doesn’t need you to, it’s kind of nice to feel something without reciprocation from the other.

After a long while, Lando shrugged. “Yeah, uh, the race was pretty good, I mean, I got first place, so I’d say it’s good. Y’know, aside from Oscar’s incident, but that’s not something we can predict, it just happens.”

You watched intently as he explained the race, your eyes oddly drawn to his lips. The pattern at which they move, and the tempting way he pokes his tongue out to tap the corners of his lips, makes you weak.

This was horribly unprofessional of you, and you knew that, but the charms of this young british racer had worked their magic on you, and you weren’t strong enough to resist it.

You felt like it was just the two of you in the room and both of you were trying your damn best not to break, one for more reasons than the other.

“Yeah, it seems like it was a lucky race for you, the pace of your car was incredible to watch.” You pointed out, looking down at the race data on your clipboard. “The RedBull’s were a bit slower this race, do you think that gave you an advantage?”

“Well, they already win races left, right and centre. They have to be bad sometimes.” Lando stifled a laugh. “But, uh, I don’t know. I think it all came down to the car and my ability to control it. The pace was insane, honestly, I wasn’t expecting it to be faster than a RedBull.”

The joke made you giggle and you quickly hid your face by looking away for a mere moment, in an attempt to recollect yourself. Thankfully, none of the cameras were on your face.

“Or it’s just pure talent, I’d say.” You look back up at him, his eyes never once leaving your face. He’s so smiley and it’s contagious, so you can’t help but smile at him, too. “Any plans for the celebration? You must be feeling ecstatic about your first win, so I assume the celebration must be as big as this.”

Lando puts the tube of his water bottle to his lips and takes a long sip, eyes still glued to you. He wasn’t even blinking, far too focused on the shape of your lips and how good they felt that night. That one night you can’t seem to remember.

“I’m not entirely sure, if I’m honest.” He shrugs, tongue poking out to lick his bottom lip before he takes it between his teeth, biting back the widest grin you’ve ever seen on his face. “I still have to call my mum and siblings.”

“I’m sure they’re incredibly proud of you,” you smile, politely. He’s still intently looking at you, cheeks now burning red at your comment accompanied by his massive grin.

It was time to wrap up your chat with Lando, but, in all honesty, you really didn’t want to. You felt something brewing in your chest at the mere feeling of his eyes burning into you, and it excited you.

Still, you ignore it. You had to stay professional, even if it was all too much to handle. “It was lovely chatting with you, Lando. Congratulations and good luck next race.”

“Will you be interviewing me next time, too?” Lando asks, making no move to walk away just yet. His eyes narrowed onto yours when you looked back at him, an adorably surprised look on your face.

“Uh,” you look away for a moment, not sure what to say. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“I look forward to seeing you again. Maybe.” He gave you another cocky smirk and nodded his head as a farewell, leaving you nothing but a blushing mess in the media pen.

After a plethora of interviews back to back, you were tired beyond words. Your feet were sore, your back hurt, you felt your eyelids close if you stood still for longer than two seconds. The image of your soft hotel bed made you motivated to keep moving through the building and find your way out.

“Oh, hey!” A familiar voice stopped you in your tracks. “Y/N, was it?”

Your eyes find their way to the person behind you and you’re happy to see that it’s Daniel. “Daniel! Hi, nice to see you again.” You extended a hand to shake and he smiled as he squeezed it.

“Was lovely talking to you earlier. You asked such great questions, honestly, it made me really think about my answers, y’know?” You hadn’t noticed how both of you started walking again and he kept up with your pace. “How long have you been doing this?”

“Oh, interviewing?” You ask and he nods eagerly, with the energy of a little boy. “This was my first official day of interviewing, actually. I had to step in for my colleague.”

“No way.” He muses, jaw slack and eyes glimmering with interest. “The way you interacted with me had me thinking you were carrying a load of experience.”

You stifle a laugh and watch the path ahead. “Yeah, well. I practised a lot in my room. You have race sims, I have a mirror and a hairbrush for a microphone.”

Daniel’s laugh echoed in the mostly empty area around you. “You’re funny, too.” He muses once again, shocked by how much fun you can be. “Listen, I know it’s not professional to ask this, but are you free tonight?”

“Oh, uh,” you look up at him and hesitate. “I’m not interested in-“

“No, no,” Daniel waves his hands in the air as if to stop the words spilling from your mouth. “God, no. I was going to ask if you’d like to come to the club later, all of the drivers are gonna be there to celebrate Lando’s win. It could be fun.”

You paused in your steps, brows furrowing as you felt a beam of energy climb up your spine. All of a sudden, your bed didn’t seem like the comfiest thing in the world and you were willing to exchange it for a pair of heels and a dress.

“I’d like that, yeah.” You smiled at Daniel and he reciprocated the gesture.

He gives you a piece of paper with something scribbled on it and you gladly pluck it from his fingers. “Shoot me a text when you’re ready, I’ll give you a ride to the club. Cheers.”

And with that, he disappeared into the car park, the only remainder of his friendly presence being his lingering smell in the air and the scribbled number on the back of a grocery store coupon.

“Thanks, mate.”

Lando’s hand felt heavy as he shook it with someone he barely knew, congratulating him on the win. He’s been stuck in this large group of people for way too long, desperately looking for an escape. And, eventually, he found it— you.

His eyes have been stuck to you for the past fifteen minutes, patiently waiting for the people to finish congratulating him so he could finally talk to you.

When the perfect moment arose, Lando swiftly shimmied between the dancing bodies and made his way to the bar. You were still sitting there, looking as beautiful as the last time he saw you, but now you were right in front of him and he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Lando’s voice startles you when he plops down in a bar stool beside you.

You smile at him, feeling the same anxiety crawl up your spine as the last time you saw him. “I’d say the same, but this feels like the perfect place for a race winner.”

“I honestly hated it before,” he shrugged, looking out into the crowd. “I used to party after a podium, second place being the best I’ve ever had.”

“But now you’re here as a winner.” You’re still looking at him when he turns back around. There’s something so nostalgic about the way he looks at you, almost as if you’ve already been there and seen him before. “A victory looks good on you.”

“Yeah?” He flashes a grin your way, raising a brow. “I’ll try to win more then. Maybe I’ll get to see you again that way.”

“I’m free whenever you want to see me,” you blurt. Lando’s eyebrows raise with surprise when you say that and he bursts into a small laugh when you start flailing your hands around in the air. “Sorry, that’s so unprofessional, I didn’t mean to–“

“It’s fine,” he assures you. “I was actually going to ask you if you wanted to get out of here. But that’s so unprofessional of me.”

“Mr. Norris!” You exclaim with a faux gasp. Lando watches with an amused grin on his face as you smile back at him. “I’d like that very much.”

It didn’t take long for both of you to swivel your way past the drunk people in the club and find yourselves in a cab. Lando’s hand made a home on your thigh and you didn’t mind. It felt warm, secure and turned you on when he inched it closer to the hem of your dress.

Time flew fast in the company of a race winner, especially one as charming and attractive as Lando. You didn’t realise how many hours had passed after you had left the club and, frankly, you didn’t really care.

The moments spent with him felt somehow nostalgic, as if you had felt this way before. But you’re sure you just dreamt it. There’s no way you’ve met Lando before and didn’t remember it.

It felt silly to think that, so you just ignored that thought and continued watching the intoxicating way his lips moved as he spoke. He’s been talking about something for the past five minutes and you didn’t hear a word of it, being far too focused on the pattern of his freckles, the dip of his nose and the gentleness of his eyes when he looked at you.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked, voice gentle and cautious.

You bit back a smile, eyes flickering between his eyes and lips. “You.”

The nostalgic feeling snuck its way into the back of your mind when he kissed you, his lips and hands feeling like a long lost home. You somehow already knew the melody of his breathing and the pattern of his hair, the familiarity of his kiss starting a fire in your chest. You felt the warmth of his lust spread through your torso, creeping up your neck, softly toying with the giggle in your throat.

Stars spackled on the inside of your eyelids and the harmonious sounds leaving your lips finally drew you back to that night.

Warm hands. Gentle strokes and soft kisses. Careful fingertips trailing their way down your hips. Lando’s tongue danced on your aching bud and you felt the whole world fade away. The mere touch of his fingers on your hips to keep you still reminded you of the last time.

“Mmh, fuck.” Lando hummed against you, the vibrations sending bolts of lightning through your veins. “So good. So fucking good for me, y/n.”

His tongue swirled around your throbbing clit, bringing you that much closer to the edge. The alcohol in your system mixed with the pleasure coursing through your body was a lethal combination. Your legs shook as you felt your walls close around nothing, Lando’s mouth attached to you as if he was a starved man and you were the first thing he could get his mouth on.

“I’m- I-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before making a mess all over his goatee. He licked up every last bit of you, the sweet taste of you making a perfect combination with the aftertaste of whiskey in the back of his throat.

You stayed lying there, eyes fluttering closed and lips parted, deep breaths inflating your chest. Lando watched you, green eyes soaking in every inch of you— he wasn’t sure if you’d remember him this time, so he made the most of every moment spent with you.

After a while of him watching you, you felt Lando get up and come back in a few minutes, a damp towel in his hands. He touched your most sensitive parts with the weight of nothing, carefulness sewn into every movement he made. At that point, you were drifting in and out of consciousness, not fully knowing when the bed dipped under Lando’s weight again.

You felt his arms wrap around you and pull you in, the warmth of his bare skin heating your cheek. You were hesitant to speak, cautious as to not say something wrong. So, instead of speaking, you lifted your head and connected your lips with his again, the minty taste of his lips making you smile.

“It was you.”

Lando hummed into the kiss, as if to acknowledge that it was him, but also to ask what you meant.

You pulled away, fingers immediately making home in his curls. “That night.” A familiar look painted itself across Lando’s face. “I tried so hard to remember whose lips felt like home, and only the weight of yours reminded me.”

“You were thinking about me?” Lando inquired, brushing stray strands of hair away from your face.

You nodded. “Every day since that night.”

Lando smiled before kissing you again. “You never left my mind. I kept reminiscing that night, waiting for fate to magically bring us back to one another.” He whispered against your hairline, lips pressing soft, love-filled kisses against your skin. “Didn’t expect to win two prizes in one day.”

A small laugh slipped past your lips. “What a lucky man you are, Mr. Norris.”

“The luckiest.” He hummed. “Because I finally have you.”

[vettelsvee]

hiii!! 2 with oscar please?😭

YOU WANT THAT BOOK? I'LL BUY YOU THE WHOLE SERIES | Oscar Piastri

Oscar Piastri x Girlfriend!Reader

SUMMARY: Oscar takes you to a bookstore and, after he sees you fingerling over a saga, he decides to buy it for you (without knowing it was about fictional versions of Formula 1 drivers) ↳ REQUESTED: Part of VEE'S F1 PROMPTS LIST (VOL. I)! Feel free to request anything you want <3 Hope you liked it anon! 💖

WORD COUNT: 1891

WARNINGS: Brief mention of drugs, mentions to Dirty Air saga (spoiler free) with not much knowledge about it

VEE'S NOTES: Was I expecting posting a fic today? No. Did I have to write something to distress after the pretty bad exam I made today? Yes! Now writing this and thinking about Teacher!Seb fics has made me feel in a better mood (ngl I'm pretty disappointed with myself). Anyways, hope you like today's fic and remember that, if you did, feel free to comment me your thoughts and, also, reblog as it helps me a lot! Thank you so much for reading <3 ↳ MAKE YOUR REQUESTS | TALK TO ME! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

The moment you crossed the doors of the bookstore, you felt like you were at home.

Maybe it was the scent of vanilla and coffee, or perhaps the instrumental music playing softly, just like the one you were used to listen to at home in the afternoons while spending hours lost in a book and its story. You were so excited that you gripped Oscar’s hand tightly, your heart pounding faster than usual at the movie-like moment you were living.

"Alright…" Oscar began, his gaze wandering in every direction, completely absorbed by the towering bookshelves surrounding you both. "I’ve taken you to a bookstore, so I think my job here is officially done."

You stared at him in disbelief before rolling your eyes.

"Osc, you don’t just take your girlfriend to a bookstore. You stay with her the whole time to live the experience, you know… that whole reader's boyfriend thing."

Now it was Oscar’s turn to roll his eyes, though he couldn’t help but smile as you spun around and rushed toward a nearby table. Despite having little to no interest in reading, unless it involved race reports or it was Mark Webber’s biography, he loved the passion you had for books. Though, much to your dismay, he had never actually finished any of your recommendations even you insisted on him a lot.

"Yeah, okay, sure. You lead the way, Mrs. Bookworm…"

You weren’t listening. Instead, you were completely lost, eyes darting from one book to another, unable to stand still from sheer excitement. The overwhelming number of stories in front of you didn’t help either.

Then, it happened. The moment you spotted the book you had been searching for longer than you cared to admit, you let out a small squeal. Oscar jumped at the sudden sound, hurrying over to you only to find you clutching a red book, turning it over in your hands, inhaling its scent like it was some rare artifact.

"Oh… my… god…" you whispered.

Oscar glanced at the cover. Throttled. His eyes flickered to the camera and polaroids, especially the one in the center, which showed a red car eerily similar to the one Charles had driven a few years back when he first joined Ferrari.

"Oh…" Oscar muttered as realization hit him. "So it’s a Formula 1 book…"

Do Formula 1 romantic books exist?, thought Oscar, a bit in disbelief.

You turned to him, shoving the book in his face.

"It’s not just a Formula 1 book! It’s THE Formula 1 book! Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted it for?"

"Since before we started dating, or after?" he teased, smirking. "You’re dating an actual Formula 1 driver, and here you are, thrilled to read a love story about one."

"Noah Slade is different. Very different, actually."

"Oh, so I guess this Noah guy is gonna replace me now, huh?" Oscar feigned offense.

"Well… I like you more. A lot more. And… I don’t know… you’re you. No one could ever compare, so…"

It wasn’t just you who turned red. Oscar did too, lowering his gaze while you pretended to read the book, using the pages as a shield to hide just how flustered you were.

This wasn’t how you had imagined telling Oscar you loved him for the first time.

"Well…" you tried to speak, clearing your throat, but Oscar cut in.

"Are you getting it?"

You opened your mouth but hesitated. It was a limited edition, and also very expensive. If you bought this one, you’d have to get the rest of the series too, but you were broke because, of course, you had impulsively bought five books just last week.

"Uh… I don’t know…" you murmured.

He studied your face for a few seconds, and without thinking too much about it, he stepped closer and grabbed the book from you.  

“What are you doing?”  

“Buying it for you,” he said casually as he walked toward the checkout.  

“Oscar, don’t you dare!” you shouted, rushing after him and snatching the book from his hands to put it back on the shelf. “You don’t have to—”  

“You want that book?” he asked. You nodded timidly. “I’ll buy you the whole series.”  

You stumbled, nearly falling as you tried to stop Oscar from grabbing Collided, Wrecked, and Redeemed.

“Oscar, you can’t just buy me an entire series just because…” you whispered, trying to keep up with his hurried steps.  

“Oh, no? And why not?”  

“Because… Because…” You opened and closed your mouth, struggling to find a reasonable enough answer to make him stop. “Because… It's too much money, Osc, that’s not right!”  

Oscar laughed. You knew perfectly well that your boyfriend was a millionaire, and even though he was very careful with his money and his expenses, buying four books wasn’t much of an expense for him the way it was for you.  

“Besides, you already spend so much time around the Formula 1 world. I don’t think it’s necessary for you to spend even more time listening to me obsess over fictional drivers and talk about them nonstop.”  

“Don’t worry, love, I’ll be more than happy to hear you ramble about those cheap copies of us,” Oscar scoffed, smiling at the cashier as he handed over the books.  

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, giving up as the woman started scanning the books.  

“And yet you love me…”  

Your face burned instantly. Not knowing how to respond, you focused on watching Oscar swipe his card and chat briefly with the cashier about you, his girlfriend, before taking the paper bag with the books inside.  

“Boys nowadays should be more like you, son,” the woman commented to Oscar, beaming. Then she turned to you. “And you, sunshine, enjoy your books and your wonderful boyfriend as well!”  

You nodded shyly. Oscar bid the woman goodbye and headed for the exit, holding the bag in one hand while placing the other on your back, guiding you outside before wrapping an arm around your waist.  

You couldn’t stop wondering what you had done to deserve such a thoughtful and attentive boyfriend like Oscar.  

“So, I guess now you’re going to try to make me read this series… Dirty Air, am I right?”  

“Oh, absolutely,” you said, finally looking at him and pushing aside that lingering shyness, the feeling that you didn’t deserve such a gift. “I’m convinced you’re going to fall in love with Santiago Alatorre.”  

“Santiago Alatorre?” Oscar repeated, curious. “Wait, wait… Are these characters, like… completely fictional? Or are they based on any of us?”  

You chuckled softly, carefully taking the bag from Oscar because you were excited to carry it yourself.  

“Well…”  

“Oh, come on. Don’t act like you don’t know, because that’s already an answer in itself.”  

You bit your lip, unsure whether to tell him the truth. It was obvious, really, but you felt… weird about him discovering the fantasies the author had written based on some of them, and moreover the fandom surrounding those stories.  

“Okay, fine…” you sighed, giving in. “Yeah, some of them are based on you guys.”  

“And?”  

Oscar raised an eyebrow, though he wasn’t sure if he actually wanted to know more about what was written about them.

“What do you mean and?”

“Who each of us is who. If there are supposedly four main characters…”

“Oh, yeah, about that…” You played with your hands, mentally trying to stay calm and not go into full fangirl mode, like you always did whenever Oscar talked about something that excited him. “So… Noah is supposed to be Charles, at least physically and in terms of teammates… but his personality and life are much more like Max’s. You know, toxic father and all that…”

“So, this Noah guy is a menace? Like Max back during the 2023 season?”

“No, no! I guess he’s… ambitious, let’s say.”

“And the others?”

“Liam, the one from the second book, is a bit complicated,” you commented. “People see him as Pierre, and some others as Mick, but to me, since he’s German, he’s kinda like Nico Rosberg mixed with Seb’s personality from his Red Bull years… or at least the way teenage girls see him, like a playboy type. I think you’re too sure what I’m talking about”

“And not just teenage girls I must say,” Oscar added.

“Then there’s Jax, who is one hundred percent Lewis,” you continued. “Jax is Liam’s teammate, so it makes sense, you know… what I explained to you earlier.”

Oscar nodded, understanding very little but happy to see you so excited.

“And the last one, Santiago, the one I mentioned before, is Carlos,” you blurted out with a growing smile. “He’s Spanish and Charles’... I mean, Noah's teammate! And, well… they say he’s really cute, so I hope to read the first three books as quickly as possible to get to his.”

“I’m starting to think that, from the way you talk about him, he’s going to become your newest addition to you not so short fictional crushes list,” Piastri laughed.

“Oh, absolutely. You know I have a thing for the good guys, and according to the TikToks I’ve watched, Santi is exactly that.”

“I can’t believe you’re fantasizing over fictional versions of my rivals,” Oscar said, tilting his head as he laughed.

“Don’t be dramatic, Osc. Why do you think I like Santi so much from what I’ve seen? Because he’s supposed to be as much of a sweetheart as you!” you exclaimed. “But I promise that no matter how much I talk about these guys after tonight, once I start the first book, it’ll just be some kind of substitute for you or whatever ridiculous thing you’re imagining.”

“You know what?” You tilted your head. “I think you should write one of those Formula 1 romance books based on our story.”

Your eyes widened in shock, unable to believe what your boyfriend had just said.

“Excuse me?”

“I mean it. You should do it,” Piastri shrugged. “I know how much you love writing, and seeing how happy these books make you… Plus, I’m curious to see what kind of terrible personality you’d give me. You could make me the typical egotistical guy who constantly gets into PR trouble for, I don’t know, smoking weed? Like what happened with Zayn and Louis from One Direction. You told me about that once, right?”

You bit your lip, trying to hold back your laughter and look serious, but it was impossible.

“Bold of you to assume I’m not already writing a fanfic about us and posting it on Tumblr.”

Oscar’s jaw dropped.

“What?”

You laughed again.

“No, Y/N, that’s not funny. You’re joking, right? Tell me you’re joking…”

“Do you really think I am?” you teased, raising an eyebrow, feeling quite pleased that you had finally confessed one of your best-kept secrets, one you had been dying to tell him even you felt a bit ashamed.

Oscar stared at you, his mind struggling to process the information.

Were people actually reading a story about his life, possibly with real details, and thinking it was completely fictional?

“What exactly are you writing about… us, Y/N?”

You just giggled, took his hand, interlaced your fingers with his, and kept walking.

“I don’t know. I guess you’ll have to check out jellyastri81 on Tumblr and find out for yourself.”

[sheepispink]

Distance makes the Heart grow Fonder ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Chapter 6 of my Sweet As Sugar Series (baker!reader x lt ghost

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Summary: Simon leaves in deployment, though just before he goes, your father unintentionally sets a fire alight in Simon’s chest, one he’s never felt in years. It brings him to a realisation he didnt think was possible.

Prev Next

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It’s surprising; in Soap’s entire career, he never thought he’d see the day that Ghost actually looked reluctant to come back to work. Usually he was the one to complain about everything he missed, especially in the mess hall when they grabbed their meals together. Though today Ghost’s eyes were particularly downturned, and he hadn't interrupted Soap once to tell him to do less speaking and more eating. “Ye not gonna tell me to shut up today?” He tilts his head towards the masked man before promptly shoving a bland potato in his mouth, chewing it without a care in the world.

“This tea is horrible; that's why.” He grunts, placing the cup down onto the table with so much force the liquid almost splashes out of the cup altogether. “Thought ya didn't care about the taste?” Soap raises a brow, even more confused. When had his Lt thought twice about how good his tea tasted? Sure, he’d been bragging about the cafe in town for a while now, but he didn't think anything would sway Riley this much. He’s only seen the man this annoyed that time he was given rice instead of pitta when they grabbed their post-deployment kebab.

“My standards have been raised.” Ghost scoffs a little, watching as Soap gulps down a large swig of his strong coffee as always—licking his lips from the three sugars he had just stirred in. “Are you going to finally tell me who that lass was now? Gaz is dying to know too.” He rests his elbows on the table, grinning cheekily at the man opposite, who only shoos him back and narrows his eyes in a faux glare. “You told Gaz?”

“Wait till Capt’ comes back–”

Ghost wasn't sure how to feel about his team’s sudden interest in his private life, but he supposed it seemed natural given that he wasn't one for making friends, let alone getting close to the baker girl in the town they frequented off deployments. “She works at the bakery, that’s all. I helped her with some heavy things.” He chooses to omit the part where he had willingly joined you on a mini road trip and spent time with you at the winter market. Soap will definitely never know about the incident at your apartment either.

”Wait, she’s the one who makes those pastries your unit had? We ‘ave to pay her a visit too. I mean, my mouth watered when i smelt ‘em.” He laughs, remembering the time he had begged Ghost to let him try just a tad of the cookie you had graciously provided him once. He’d take the death glare, especially since after he ate half, he had easily decided it was the best one he’d ever tasted. Besides, he wanted to see what had caught Ghost’s eye to the point he spent more time off base than on. Unfortunately, the masked man had caught onto it quickly, standing with the tray in his hands. “Yeah, you go spillin’ crumbs on yourself in the middle of the briefing we have in ten.” He rolls his eyes, already expecting the alarm in Soap’s eyes as he quickly stands and throws his tray away too—he always had a tendency to rely on Ghost as a personal reminders app.

————

The meeting seemed to last forever, and he had to adjust himself to stand straight every so often just so his mind wouldn’t wander off with the memories of only last week. Though, he couldn’t keep them away for much longer since as soon as he was on the treadmill, everything in his mind was let free. The thing was, even though he hadn't said it directly, Johnny was right—you had caught his eye in a way that he couldn't even figure out himself. From the day he saw you in that shop, dancing along to a song that you embarrassedly shut off as soon as he entered, to the pretty smile you flash every time he enters the shop. In fact, your demeanour seems to light up without you even realising; it’s adorable, really. He notices the pep in your step, the slightly higher pitch in your voice, and even the way you greet the customers with happiness just ‘cause you’re eager to draw your doodle on the side of his coffee cup again. Maybe if he had a little more experience in all of this, he would’ve teased you about it all, or he would even go as far as to admit that you’ve made his heart thump more than any life-threatening situation will. Though, if he told you that then you might just force him to a doctor out of sheer worry.

What if you don’t even see it the same way? What if you’re just being friendly and he’s acting like a creep, reading into all of your actions? He ramps up the speed on the treadmill a little more, his thighs starting to burn the more forceful his strides grow. It’s empty in this room, no sound around save for the heavy thump of his boots bouncing off the walls. He’s heard female soldiers complain before; they huff about how the younger soldiers ogle, and the older lieutenants shamelessly give their remarks. What if he ruins everything and makes you uncomfortable? He’s not even sure he can handle a relationship; he always thought he could never commit to it, nor did he think he could put the constant energy and thoughts into caring so much for somebody. But with you, it just comes so naturally; he barely has to think twice when he converses with you, even less when you chatter to him about something that happened the other day. Relationships always seemed like obligations to him, even if the girl was nice or sweet; something always sucked the life out of him dry until he broke up with them just for their own sake. He didn't want the same to happen to you; no he wouldn't dare hurt you in such a cruel way.

Then what, should he just pull away from you altogether?

That thought alone stills him, the idea of never seeing you again making his body still like a bucket of cold ice dumped over his head. His feet falter as his heart stammers, and his hands can only graze the handles before his knees hit the floor with a painful slam—sliding off the treadmill altogether in a heap of limbs. He looks down in shock, more so down at himself as he sits on the floor in front of the treadmill he had accidentally pushed to the maximum speed. Damnit; he really has fallen for you.

————————-

The little bell rings as he pushes the glass door open; it’s the day before he leaves for deployment, and he was hoping he’d see your grin one last time before he goes. To his dismay, you’re not on shift today, likely doing a grocery run or something similar. Today, your parents are handling the shop, and although you informally introduced him once, he’s almost sure that they don't approve of him. It’s not like they’ve made it obvious; it just seems inevitable due to his chosen attire and his line of work. Naturally, he hadn't expected your father to smile at him widely and know his order before he could say it.

“Flat white or black today? No tea today, unfortunately.”

Simon can only blink in surprise, clearing his throat in hopes he doesn’t sound too hoarse. “Flat white. I’ve got deployment tomorrow, so I'll have to indulge now rather than later.” He doesn't usually add on detail, but he feels like he’s obliged to, just for the sake of seeming a little better towards your parents. Thankfully, there’s not a hint of the disdain he expected on your father’s face; he only laughs, ringing in the order whilst he turns to make the drink for him. “I’d hardly call a flat white an ‘indulgent’, kid.”

Simon barely gets the chance to acknowledge the fact someone just called him ‘kid’ before he’s talking again, and he feels himself stand a little straighter to make sure he doesn't look like some sleazy boy.

“She’s gonna be upset, y’know? Maybe you’ll be better off paying a stunt double to take your place instead of saying you’re on deployment.” The man chuckles again, his face lighting up the same way you do, and you’ve clearly learnt his technique of pouring the steamed milk too.

“I’m sure she’ll forget by the second day; the other customers will have to suffice with all her stories.” Simon brushes off your potential reaction, almost positive that you wouldn't even lose sleep on the matter. Besides, you’re plenty more friendly than he’ll ever be; he’s sure you’ll make quick friends with the other regulars.

“Forget? I won't hear the end of it until you return. I don't know what you did to that girl, but she’s been as bright as the sun since you showed up.” The older man pressed the lid onto the cup, turning around to hand it to Simon. “We’re grateful, y’know? She had a tough time when we first opened; it didn't help that we couldn't afford her further education.”

“I.. didn't know that.” He can't say much else, the words spilling out and surprise evident in his tone.

“We travelled a bit before buying this bakery, so she’s never had many constant friends; it was out of our control.” The man packs up a small bag, placing it on the counter for Ghost to take as well before giving him a grateful smile. “She’d have come around eventually, but the point is, she’s very fond of you. Always makes sure she has your favourite biscuits restocked too.” He chuckles, and Simon stares down at the bag, the faint outline of chocolate bourbons inside. He truly was a lucky man.

———-

Ghost had a hypothesis, and that was that the simplest missions were always the longest. Well, not literally, but they felt as if they dragged on forever. He was positioned up in these mountains to scope the area prior to his team’s entry; however they wouldn't be here for another two hours anyway due to unforeseen circumstances. That meant that for the meantime, he was a sitting duck. It also gave way to the thoughts he hadn’t been able to consider ever since he first processed them, promising himself he’d debate it later after this all blew over.

The thing is, he couldn't fathom the idea of you feeling low or even having a few friends. He considers himself to be on the loner side, considering most people perceived him that way, and he didn't exactly contact anyone outside of the military save from his old boss when he worked as a butcher—he always said happy new year to him. The difference is, he kind of liked it that way, but clearly you haven't been given a choice in that matter. It fills him with an urge, one that’s a little out of place for him yet fits perfectly in his chest. He wants to make sure you’re happy, well, as far as he can do so anyway. And on the off chance you do get upset, he wants to be the one to cheer you up after.

It’s weird to him, having someone that needs him as a presence in their life, someone who’ll miss him when he’s gone. But what’s worse for him, is that he realises now that he misses you every time you’re gone. He thought he had gone crazy the first time Johnny went on deployment without him, and he had to listen to Gaz talk about the latest football game all lunch— not that Johnny usually had anything better to say either. He had only realised he missed him when Soap described the same feeling when Gaz had left for deployment. He figured it comes with working closely with others very often; after all, being forced out of a routine would never feel right. So, he was even more surprised when he had only spent a month and a bit getting to know you, but somehow every moment away just seemed duller.

That night the evac trucks take him home quietly, along with the rest of his team. They’re exhausted, Soap and Gaz more so than himself; they're practically nodding off beside him. Not that he minds being their pillow for the ride, but he does stop to wonder what it’d feel like if your head was the one on his shoulder. He’d probably wrap an arm around you—if you’d allow him, of course—and maybe just sit in silence whilst a movie plays. You’d be happy with someone around, he’d be happy to have a quiet night in, and maybe a quiet sleep again.

That’s the moment he decided what he was going to do and what he’s currently doing right now. It’s two am, and he’s just got back, barely even washed up yet. His phone is in his hands, your little profile picture grinning at him cheekily as he stares at the unsent message.

“Are you free for dinner on Wednesday? My treat, and an apology for leaving you for so long.”

—————————-

Prev Next Masterlist

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Taglist:

@hidden-treasures21 @bieberismysoulmate @gallantys @tessakate @galactict3a @krispymagazinepizza-blog @silas-aeiou @kupids-arrow

[the-scientist-blog]

In the prior two posts, Mr. President-Elect, I summarized the facts pertaining to the cause of climate change, as well as its environmental destruction ingredients: excessive carbon dioxide, methane and plastic.

Now to explain why we shouldn’t have to be talking so much about severe weather in the first place…

I realize you don’t want to be reminded of this, and please don’t be upset with me as I go forward, but big oil and gas has formally acknowledged that as early as the mid 1950s to the 1960s, in-house scientists then warned its executive boards around the world about the environmental consequences brought on by burning oil, gas and coal. Long ago there was written documentation to prove the polluting damage caused by BOG’s products, not to mention plastic, was well known to those on the inside of its corporate hierarchy. And much like the tobacco industry, BOG unanimously agreed to remain silent about the unknown price a never ending consumer base would pay,both directly at the gas pump and climatewise. 

Beginning about 60-70 years ago, profit, not people, was all that mattered. BOG’s influential words (and your “climate hoax”) rang loud and clear until a few years ago when it became visibly obvious those two words no longer fooled enough people, thus forcing the energy sector to change its behavior regarding emissions coverup. No, its admission to the decades of hush-up pollution never made headlines. Rather, its climate denial simply came to an end. 

If The Right Thing To Do was ever discussed among BOG’s corporate leadership, the topic was soon extinguished in the black columns of smoke pouring out of the refineries.

Rather, BOG allowed its expanding customer base to relish getting from one place to another in the quickest most efficient manner possible, with no hint of what the chemicals were doing to the environment. Life was good and rich for BOG! No different than the other industries that spewed their pollutants to contaminate the world’s air, water and land. Thank God for the EPA which stood up to spank the polluters, and extinguished some of their greed. 

Otherwise, Sir, can you imagine the dirty chemical fix we’d all be in?

When The Right Thing To Do was intentionally omitted, humankind lost out to a  greenhouse gas by-product that caused an ecocide to the planet’s kingdom. 

Could this history of extreme polluting emissions never have happened?

Absolutely. Maybe some introductory emissions, but humans would have it under control by now. 

The damage caused by fossil fuel could have been made public early on, and then regulated in an orderly fashion as clean energy methods evolved. An example of what should have transpired long ago is given below.

Imagine if the following announcement actually occurred. It is 1964, and these words have just grabbed headlines around the globe:

A WARNING TO ALL FROM THE GLOBAL OIL, GAS AND COAL INDUSTRY

 While our production has created an unprecedented volume of energy to power up civilization and economies around our beloved planet, there will be consequences for the environment and therefore, all of humanity.

Unfortunately, our oil, gas and coal resources generate excessive carbon and methane emissions that form a level of pollution that will one day overwhelm the atmosphere and everything below it. The result will cause an increasing portion of the sun’s heat to remain trapped on Earth’s surface, thus warming the ice sheets, oceans, land and air forcing people to deal with far more frequent bouts of severe weather, aridity, and rising temperatures than we face today.

At the same time, we cannot stop production because world industrialization, transportation, homes and businesses would suffer without an energy source. Yet, it is up to us to lead the way out of a future livability predicament. There is still time for an irreversible change to our climate to be avoided...

www.thescientistblog.com

[runningincircl3s]

Nothing Ever After

Chapter 26/ Ricky's Vlog Footage

chapter warnings: none? also teasers for the ending at the end of the chapter tehe :)

When I came up with the idea for this chapter I thought it would be a fun filler chapter leading up to the final part! I could keep adding to this chapter but since I didn't post last week enough is enough so here it is! Happy monday!! :)

 ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“It’s 3am… In the am,” Ricky yawned, squinting at the light as he turned on his bedside lamp, “And we leave today for the tour, in about 7 hours.”

He picks his phone up, showing the time, and a message from Vin. 

“I texted Vin just now to make sure he was up and ready, I’ve got to pick him and Ryan up before leaving for the airport.” He yawned again, switching the lights on as he walked through his house, “But before I do anything…” He reached into the cupboard and showed the camera his coffee mug, one he had received from a fan which had a picture of him and Vin on it. “Coffee.”

[Cut to the car on the way to the airport]

“How do I know if it’s on?” Vinny asked, screwing his face up at the camera, which was too close to his face, showing a close up of his mouth.

“It’s already on.” Ryan laughed, and Vinny’s eyes widened. 

“Oh it is?” He chuckled, “Hey guys- Hey youtube! What is up! I’m Ricky Olson and-”

“This won’t make it into the vlog,” Rick laughed from the driver's seat, “None of this will.”

“But this is entertaining! Give the people what they want!” Vin smiled, “Rick just drove through a red light-”

“There’s nobody about! It’s 4am! I-”

[Cut to the airport]

Vinny stood staring straight into the camera, the sound of screaming crying children in the background. You could tell by his eyes that he was trying to hold it together.

“I have an announcement,” he said after a long sigh, “So… I’m actually quitting the band.”

The sound of crying children got louder as Vinny shook his head, he looked like he was either about to start laughing or crying, perhaps even both?

“I’m done!” 

[Cut to the tour bus]

“So,” Rick says as he places the camera on the table, on a makeshift tripod, made from books and an upside down cup , “We’ve landed, we got to our hotel and then Chris said the guys from Bad Omens forgot to change the dates they needed their bus for, so we’re off to pick them up!” 

The camera turns to Justin, who slowly turns to look at Ricky. 

“What do you want?” He groaned. 

“Do you have anything to say?”

“Yeah. Fuck you.”

[It cuts to shots of the guys, and Bad Omens as they get on the bus. Folio and Ruffilo both gave the camera a wave, but the others didn’t seem to acknowledge it, with some music playing over the top.]

[Cut to Vinny on the bus]

Vinny was talking to the camera, but seemed a little distracted. Unbeknownst to everyone else, his eyes were on you as you stepped on to the bus. 

“Guys I have solved our photographer dilemma!” Chris proudly announced as he stepped back onto the bus, “Y/n’s filling in for the first three days!”

“Hi!” You said with a smile, but Vinny quickly grabbed the camera from Rick, turning it back to him.

“Do you have her consent to record her?” He asked, a mock-serious expression on his face, “Didn’t think so… You creep!” He couldn’t help the small smirk tugging on the corner of his lips. 

“...Aren’t you, Vin.” Justin shouted out, but Vinny didn't quite catch the beginning of his sentence. 

“What did he say?” He asked Rick, who shrugged in reply.

Vinny put his middle finger up to Justin, holding back a laugh. 

[Cut to the hotel room]

“So,” Ricky says, turning the camera around, “Here’s our- I mean my room for the first couple nights, we’ve got our own rooms this time around so that’s sick.”

Rick gives a room tour, showing the bathroom, the bed, the window and the tv which didn’t seem to work. 

“It’s gonna be weird going to sleep with nobody else snoring or coughing in the room.” He smiled, "It won't be this way on the bus!"

[Cut to the next day]

Ryan, Rick and Vinny are walking down the street. 

“So, update,” Ricky began, “Technically tomorrow is the first day of tour, since we’ve got the day off today. So we’ve decided to go and explore the city, get some lunch, maybe visit the museum here... Ryan, do you have anything to say?”

“Yeah, Rick’s boring, there’s a party tonight and he’s not coming.” Ryan laughed. 

“C’mon,” Vin groaned, “Even I’m gonna be there!” 

“I’ve got shit to do.” Ricky chuckled.

“Like what?”

“...Editing the vlog?”

[Cut to the next morning]

“Today’s the day.” Rick says as he stirs his coffee, “It’s the first day of tour, we’ve also got an interview to go to this morning. I need to go and check on Vin after last night, Ryan said he left early but Vin stayed behind… So he might be feeling a little rough this morning.” He chuckled. 

[Cut to Rick walking down the hall]

“Okay, Vin hasn’t seen my texts so I’m assuming he’s still asleep!” Rick says before he knocks on Vin’s door. 

“Vin! Wake up everyone’s waiting for you!” He continues knocking. 

Rick sighs and shakes his head, there was no answer.

“This is why I told you it was a bad idea to go out la-” Vin opened the door, revealing himself half dressed and you still lying in his bed, wearing his shirt. “Finally, I- What’s y/n doing in your room? What the hell Vin! This better not be what it looks like-” 

“No! She stayed here because-”

[Cut to backstage before the show]

“Wanna tell us what you’re up to?” Rick asks Folio, who was smirking as he collected two paper cups. 

“I’m doing an experiment. Noah and Vin both claim they can tell the difference between coke and pepsi,” he looks around for the two cans he had bought, “So in one cup… There’s pepsi, and in the other, there's gonna be coke.”

“How are you going to tell the difference?” Matt asked, “How would you know if they’re right or not if you forget which cups which?”

Folio thought for a moment before calling out to Angela. 

“Can I borrow something to mark a cup?” 

“Sure,” she chuckled, handing him an eyeliner pen, “Just be careful with it, it's expensive.” 

“Thanks!” 

Folio roughly marked the underneath of one of the cups, and smiled at the camera, putting a thumb up.

[Cut to the couches] 

“So,” Folio laughed handing Noah the cups, “One of these has pepsi and the other one has coke-“

“You want me to say which ones in which?” Noah raised an eyebrow, “Easy, I’ve been training for this my whole life!”

“You need to smell them first!” Vinny shouted over, and Noah nodded, smelling each drink. 

“This one smells like pepsi for sure,” he said, “Is it?” 

“Try them!” Matt encouraged. 

Noah hesitated for a second before trying a sip of each. 

“Oh no, that one’s coke… This one’s pepsi.” 

Folio took the cups back, checking the bottom. 

“He’s right!” *insert sound effects*

[Cut to Vinny] 

“I can tell just by smelling them,” he bragged, “And my nose tells me that…” 

He brings both cups up to smell, pulling an unsure face, he has his answer. 

“This one’s pepsi. And I know I’m fucking right!”

“Try them.” Folio chuckled, and Vin nodded, taking a sip of each. 

“Pepsi.” He held one of the cups out, “Just like my nose told me.”

Folio takes the cup and checks the bottom. 

“Wrong! That’s coke!” *Insert sound effect* 

[Cut to Chris] 

“So… I have to guess which one’s pepsi?” He asks, a smile on his face as he takes both cups from Matt. 

“That’s right, so far Noah’s got it right and Vin got it wrong.”

Chris smelled both cups before trying each, furrowing his eyebrows. 

“That’s hard,” he chuckled, “How do you know which is in which?”

“I’ve marked the bottom,” Folio said, “But don’t look!”

“I won’t!” Chris laughed before trying each, “I’ll say… This one’s pepsi?”

Folio bent down to check the bottom of the cup Chris held out. 

“It is!” *insert sound effect* 

[Cut to you] 

“This is stupid,” you laugh as Folio hands you the cups, “And the others have all drank out of these?” 

“Hey, that's nothing, Ryan drank Ricky’s piss before.” Vin laughed, and your face screwed up in horror as you looked up at Ricky with fear in your eyes. 

"He did what?!"

“I told you that was an accident!" Ryan shouted from across the room.

"Fuck this isn’t staying in the video,” Rick laughed, “Ryan bought apple juice and left it in the van, back when we toured in a van, it just so happened I peed in a bottle and it was the same colour-“

“Okay!” You shook your head, “I’ve heard enough, what do you want me to do, Nick?”

“Tell me which one’s pepsi and which one's coke!”

You tried each drink, thinking for a moment before trying another sip of each. 

“This one is definitely coke,” you held one cup out, “so this one’s pepsi.” 

Folio took the cups back and checked for the mark. 

“You’re right!” *Insert sound effects*

“What the fuck,” Vin groaned, “Let me try them again.”

[Cut to after the show]

“We just got done playing,” Ricky said to the camera, “And clearly it’s been a long couple of days for somebody on their first tour.” 

As he pans the camera around, he shows you fast asleep with your head on resting Vin’s shoulder. 

“I think somebody’s got a crush!” Justin whispers to the camera.

“Okay I can't keep that in!”  Rick laughs.

[Cut to Vinny randomly dancing to Maroon 5]

[Cut to Justin doing his makeup]

"So, for everyone who's been asking, I'm going to give you all the long awaited stage makeup tutorial... So what you want to do first is-"

[Cut to backstage, after a show]

“Update!” Vinny grinned, “We literally just got off stage, I went nuts out there, we all went nuts out there... I think I need a shower… Hey y/n, do you think I need a shower?” He was suddenly invading your personal space, his arms wrapping around you in a scarily sweaty hug, and what was left of his body paint was rubbing off on you. 

“Vincenzo I swear if you don’t let go of me right now!” You threatened, pushing him away. 

“Y/n, give me an update!” Rick smiled from behind the camera. 

“Update- Is this my first real update?” You ask as Vin begins to make an escape, “Vin stinks, and I’m gonna beat his ass for covering me in sweaty paint!” 

“You would never!” He shouts from the hallway, and you raise your eyebrows before chasing after him.

“They’re so into each other... It makes me sick.” Ryan laughed, as Ricky panned the camera to him.

[Cut to the tour bus, the next morning]

“Chris, give me an update!” 

Chris groans, before smiling for the camera.

“Update, it’s the… Fifth show of the tour tonight, and I think I’m getting sick. I should be saving my voice, Rick, but look what you’re making me do!” He said in a mock-serious tone. 

[Cut to Rick backstage, in full makeup and stage fit]

"Update... I keep forgetting to make actual updates so uh... We're about to play at the biggest festival of our career, loads of people are out there waiting for us, we're on in about 15 minutes..." The camera turns to Vinny, "How do you feel?"

"Rick..." He presses his lips together, looking away for a moment, "I think I'm going to shit myself."

[Cut to Vinny after playing at the festival]

“Update,” Vinny pointed at the camera, clearly on an adrenaline rush after playing, “We just got done playing to like… three hundred million people, it was fucking awesome!” He claps, thinking of something else to say, “Y/n took some hot pictures of me, Rick fell off the stage-”

“I didn’t fall off the stage,” Ricky interrupted, turning the camera to his face, “I misjudged where the platform was-”

“Rick fell off the stage.” Vinny repeated, “And now we’re about to go play some Mario kart.”

“Y/n do you have anything to add?” Rick pointed the camera at you. 

“Motionless in White rock,” you said proudly, “It was great to…” You trailed off as your phone vibrated, forgetting all about the camera pointed at you, “...Fuck, I think I’m getting a headache, I think I need to lay down, I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” You say, quickly turning around and walking off. 

Ricky and Vinny look at each other as you walk away. 

“That was weird.” Rick points out, putting the camera down.

[Cut to you and Vin in the dark, in the hallway of a hotel]

“Welcome back,” Vinny says in a weird voice, “To the third installment of this place is haunted.. Haunted….. Haunted……”

“We’ve been staying at this hotel for two nights, and we’ve been noticing… some strange things!” You say. 

“So, as an expert in all things paranormal, I am here to investigate!” 

“The first mystery… A banging sound coming from Folio’s room in the middle of the night…” You try to hold back your laugh as you approach his door, “I’ve been staying in the room next to him, and I think he may be being visited in the night by spirits-”

“I fear it may be the very same vengeful incubus that was following me around last tour… Y/n has the spare key to his room, so let’s go and check on him!” 

You slowly push the hotel door open, and wave for Vin and Rick to follow you in. 

“It appears Nick is asleep… And there is no sign of any spirits, or incubuses.. But there is a- Oh shit we better get out there’s a girl in his bed!” 

All three of you rushed out of the room trying your best not to laugh before shutting the door back up.

[Cut to Vinny getting his makeup done]

“The concept of a dad dick isn’t hard to understand…” Vin laughed, “When you become a dad you get a dad dick!” 

“So Justin has a dad dick?” Folio chuckles. 

“Yeah! He’s the only one of us with a dad dick… I think.” Vinny’s eyes widen, full of fear as he stares into the camera, “I don’t think I have any kids?”

[Cut to Vinny asleep on the couch in the green room, whilst you stand behind him, braiding his hair]

The camera slowly zooms in on you as you try holding back your laughter as Vin snores.

"When he wakes up we're telling him he's been visited by the braid fairy," you whispered, before looking back down and running your fingers through his hair, "He's got softer hair than me? I'm stealing his conditioner."

[Cut to Rick on the bus]

"I can't believe what I've just seen... I've caught y/n in the act... With evidence..."

As the camera turns around, it shows you stuffing as many snacks as you can into your bag before getting on to the bus.

"Every time we ask her if she's got any snacks she says no!" Vinny laughed, also watching you from the bus window. "When she gets on I'm gonna ask if she has any and see what she says." he plotted, and the Rick nodded.

"Hey guys." You smile, walking onto the bus, "What time do we start sound check?"

"Uh, in a couple hours." Rick said from behind the camera.

"Y/n did you get any snacks in the store?"

"Yes, but you still owe me for the packs of starburst you stole from me!"

[Cut to Justin and you]

“Justin, give me an update!” 

“Update!” Justin sighed, “I’m introducing y/n to Twit!” 

“And for the people who don’t know… Who is Twit?”

“He’s in the video you posted! If you don’t know you better get to know!” 

The camera zooms in on Justin’s phone, where Vinny is being Twit.

“What’s up man! I’m Twit and I’m gonna eat some God- I mean gosh darn cookies!”

“Vin, how old were you here?!” You laugh. 

“25.” Vinny groans, “Please stop! Turn it off!” 

[Cut to Chris playing a guitar during souncheck]

"I didn't know he played?" Your eyebrows raised as you listened to Chris play a song that sounded a lot like Another Life

"Chris has always played," Rick chuckled from behind the camera, "I guess you learn something new everyday."

[Cut to you]

"Y/n, give me an update."

"Update... I'm sat here in the green room editing some pictures I took from the shows last week. The guys have gone out to get lunch, I've asked Noah to get me a bagel so we'll see how well he knows me because I haven't told him which one I want..."

"Does he know your usual order?"

"He should!" You chuckle, "I've been getting the same thing for three months."

[Cut to Rick backstage before a show]

"So, update..." He set the camera up, stepping back slightly, almost ending up in Justin's lap, "One of our shows got cancelled because it was an outdoors venue and the weathers been pretty shit so we're unable to play, so Vin suggested going live on twitch and hanging out there for a bit with all the guys. I know it won't make up for a cancelled show but it's something."

"They can't see you, Vin." Justin laughed, and Rick looked over at Vinny.

"Give the people what they want!" Vin called out.

"Vin's got his thumbs up," he chuckled, turning the camera around, "There he is..."

"What's up youtube!"

[Cut to you smiling at your phone]

"What are you smiling at...?" Rick teased, zooming in on you.

"I'm looking at pictures of my bed, I can't wait to be home." You hold your phone out to Rick, showing him.

[Cut to Ricky in the bus]

"Update! It's the final month of tour and I don't feel like I've given any real updates on here. We've had the best time this tour, it's been great seeing familiar faces and some new ones too... Uh... Yeah. Do you have anything to add?"

Rick turned the camera, pointing at Vinny who was sat facing you on the couch as you carefully re-dyed his red streaks.

"I don't feel like I've slept in 4 years."

"Vin stop moving!" You groaned, trying to section his hair to clip back.

"Shit, sorry."

[Cut to Ryan backstage]

"I'm not doing this shit," he laughed, until Ricky snatched his phone from his hand, "Fine." Ryan sighed, sitting up straight, "Update, we've got a few more shows to play and then I can get back home to my dog... Vin's been unusually quiet the last couple days, it's been pretty nice."

You walk into the room, setting your bags down on the table. As if on cue, Vin gets up and leaves without saying a word to anybody.

Ryan gives the camera look to say what was that about?

[Cut to Vinny and Noah talking in the green room]

"I just don't understand how you guys can all do the metal screamy thing but I can't?" Vinny laughed.

Noah tried explaining it to Vinny, who tried to copy and do as he was taught, but still failed.

"What the hell is going on in here?" Angela laughs, walking in with you by her side, "I thought Vin was getting tortured."

"No but we are." Justin sighed.

"Noah's trying to teach Vin to scream, it's pretty funny."

"...No, not like that- Y'know what, ask Justin or Chris, I haven't got the patience for this." Noah shook his head, chuckling slightly as he reached for his water.

Vin still attempted, and still failed.

"Can I please say what we're all thinking?" You ask as you sit beside Noah, resting your legs over his lap.

"Go for it!" Ryan laughed.

"Vin, you have the voice of an angel, honey, but just this once... Shut the fuck up, please." You chuckled.

"Yeah, man, stick to rapping. Trap Demon's overdue a comeback." Rick said from behind the camera.

"Trap Demon?" You raised an eyebrow.

[Cut to Rick trying to set his camera up on a tripod on the beach]

"Uh... Is it straight? Y'know what I don't care actually... We've made it to LA, we've got a couple days off so we decided to spend the day at the beach. Vin and Noah have buried Jolly and Ryan and in the sand and seem to be building sand castles on top of them? Folio's swimming out there with Justin, Chris is just chilling here in the shade like the vampire he is-"

"Coming from you?" Chris chuckled from beside Rick.

"Hey, I don't want to burn! You remember how red me and Vin were after we played that show in Malta, we were only in the sun for less than an hour!"

[Cut to Vinny, who had sunglasses tan lines on his face]

"This is pretty high coverage," Angela explains, showing him the foundation she was going to use, "If I do some colour correcting underneath you wont even notice it!"

"Please just do something. Anything!" Vinny whined. "I've never been sun burned this bad before."

"I told you to wear spf, not my fault you didn't listen." Noah shrugged.

[Cut to Vinny, Rick and Ryan backstage somewhere, Folio is in the back talking with Bryan]

“So,” Rick says, placing the camera down on the table, “It was y/n’s birthday yesterday, and she had other plans so we couldn’t all spend it together. However, our one and only, our dear Vincenzo Mauro booked a venue so we could throw her a surprise party for when she gets back tonight!”

“I’m currently making the playlist,” Vin explains as Ricky turns the camera to him, “Banger after banger, baby! I’ve got some songs I found from her playlists and some DJ shidnfard classics. It’s gonna be a sick night, guys.”

“The good thing about being a band on tour is that you have equipment,” Ryan said, also doing something on his laptop, “We’ve got all our stage lights and shit but nobody here who knows how they work, except Matt but he woke up in a bad mood today so everyone's too afraid to ask him for help, so I’m watching a youtube tutorial on how to set them up.”

“Ryan Sitkowski, our guitarist and soon to be our lights guy,” Rick chuckled, turning the camera back to him, “Angela and Justin are over here, what are you guys up to?”

“Blowing up balloons.” Justin sighed, “I’m gonna be doing this for my kid’s birthday for the next 12 years so why not get some practice?”

“That’s the spirit,” Chris chuckled, walking in with lunch, “How many have you done already?”

“Three.” Justin confessed, “I just don’t know how to tie them!” 

“It’s easy,” Angela chimed in, “Even with these nails I’ve still done more than you.” 

[Cut to Ricky whispering in the dark]

“Okay… She should be here any minute now, Noah’s gone to pick her up…” Rick paused suddenly, thinking he could hear something. “Y/n, if you’re watching this, I’m so glad we met on this tour. I know we didn’t get on too well in the beginning but… You grew on me. I hope our paths cross again after this, and maybe we get the chance to tour together again. Happy birthday!” 

“Fuck, Y/n just texted saying they’re still half an hour away. They stopped at the gas station because Noah needed to pee.” Bryan announces, and everybody groans. 

“Great! I’ve just had an idea!” Rick beamed as the lights were switched back on. 

[Cut to Justin]

“So what was this plan?” Justin asked, he was stood against a blank wall as Rick pointed the camera at his face.

“We’re all going to give y/n a birthday message, whether I actually keep this part in the vlog or not will depend on what people say but I thought it was a good idea!”

“Oh that’s cute,” Justin smiled, “So do I just-”

“Yes, the camera’s rolling.” 

“Oh, okay!” Justin grinned, “Y/n… It’s been great having you with us on this tour, it’s been a pleasure to get to know you, we all think you’re awesome… Vin especially,” he winked, “But seriously, I hope you have a great day, eat cake, party, dance, have fun! You deserve it!” 

[Cut to Angela]

“Happy birthday, my love! I never expected to make a new best friend on tour, but here we are, I love you so much girl!”

[Cut to Chris]

“Happy birthday, Y/n! You've pretty much became a member of the band over these months. You’ve been killing it out here, I don’t think I could thank you enough for making all of us look so photogenic and filling in for our usual guy. We love you!”

[Cut to Vinny]

“Y/n!” He clapped his hands together, “Uh… What can I say about you… You’re pretty cool, not as cool as me but y’know, haha, who is?” He smirked, “No, I’m kidding!” 

“Restart!” Rick called out. "Take 2!"

“Y/n, I think I’m speaking for all of us when I say you brighten our days, your smile lights the room-”

“Hey, it’s a birthday message not a love confession.”

“Shut up!” Vinny groaned, before getting into the zone again, “Y/n, happy birthday! I wanted to say something heartfelt but Rick didn’t like it so I’ll just say you’re awesome! I’m so happy that I’ve gotten to know you, and I hope when tour ends we’ll still be friends, y’know, unless you’ve been simply just tolerating me the last few months cos you had no other choice! Okay how was that?”

[Cut to Ryan]

“Happy birthday, Y/n! I don’t know how you’ve put up with all of us… I can't even stand these guys and we've been doing this for years. Thank you for everything you do for us, it doesn’t go unnoticed.”

[Cut to Jolly]

“Happy birthday, Y/n! Uh… I’m not usually great at stuff like this, but I just want to say thank you for always being there for us. You deserve the world, and I hope you know how much we all appreciate you.”

[Cut to Matt]

“Happy birthday, Y/n! You’re like the little sister I never asked for but now I can’t live without. Thanks for putting up with all of our shit on the daily and still managing to make us look good out there. I hope you had a great birthday!”

[Cut to Folio]

“... But I don’t know what to say- Oh you’re recording! Y/n, I know I give you a hard time sometimes, but it’s only because you’re basically family to me. You’re one of the hardest working people I know, and we’re all so lucky to have you around. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise! I love you so much, I hope you had a nice birthday, and I can’t wait for our fishing trip when this is all over!”

[Cut to Nicholas]

“Y/n! Happy birthday! We all appreciate everything you do for us, even if some of us don’t say it! Have a great night, don’t vomit on Noah this time though… We all remember Bryan’s party!”

[Cut to Bryan]

“You’ll always be my best friend and-”

“Shit I wasn’t recording,” Rick laughed, “Okay, we’re all good.”

“Fuck you, Rick.” Bryan chuckled, “I just said something really beautiful… Y/n, I love you dearly, thanks for sticking with me and being my best friend throughout all the madness in our lives… I can’t remember what else I said now but that’s Rick’s fault. Happy birthday!”

[Cut to darkness, again]

"This is definitely them..." Ricky whispers to the camera.

Suddenly, the lights all switch on, revealing the beautifully decorated room, everyone shouts surprise! As you stand in the doorway, a look of disbelief and excitement on your face as you grin widely

"Oh my god... Guys you didn't have to do this!"

[Cut to Rick at the airport]

"Holy shit. I don't even know if I should post any of this now." He sighs, looking away for a moment, "Some serious shit went down in the last few days... But we did it. We played every show, we... Yeah, I'm not posting any of this shit-"

[Camera cuts]

--------------------------

spoiler alert (?) i'll be posting the final chapter in three parts because it's been getting longer and longer and longer, but i'm hoping to post all three parts throughout next week!!

@rumoured-whispers @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lma1986 @thisbicc @dominuslunae @miss570 @miamore0570 @jilliemiw86 @itsyaboinoah @kait16xo @discocowgirly @rainy-darling

[goodbyeyellowbrickcloset]

"Taylor Doesn’t Easter Egg That Deeply"—Are You Sure About That?

Today, I got the question:

"Can I ask—have you ever considered that you’re making all this up and Taylor doesn’t Easter egg this deeply? Like what if you’re just wrong and she doesn’t give a fig about The Wizard of Oz and wore this dress because she liked it? What if it’s not a performance? What if she’s straight and isn’t leaving clues about her sexuality in her clothes and jewelry? Please answer because I genuinely want to know if it’s ever crossed your mind."

I appreciate the curiosity, and yes—I have considered that possibility. But here's the thing: Taylor Swift has spent years openly admitting that she obsessively layers hidden messages into her work. Not just lyrics. Clothing, jewelry, set design, interviews, social media posts—even her fingernail color.

So rather than answering this with my own opinion, let’s let Taylor herself explain how deep she goes with Easter eggs.

Taylor Swift on Easter Eggs (Straight From Her Mouth)

📺Watch Here: Taylor Swift Reveals Her Easter Eggs About TS7

💬 Taylor’s Own Words:

"Hey, guys, it's Taylor Swift, and today I'm going to talk to you about Easter eggs… No, not the bunny pastel Easter eggs, although I really do love that aesthetic right now. I'm loving pastels. But the Easter eggs I'm gonna talk to you right now about are the kind of cryptic, message-sending Easter eggs. When you're watching a movie or music video and you notice something in the background, and that something leads to, sort of, behind-the-scenes information, that's an Easter egg. So I love to communicate via Easter eggs. I think the best messages are cryptic ones, so I'm going to lead you through my favorite kinds of Easter eggs to lay."

Easter Eggs Can Be Worn—Clothing & Jewelry

"Easter eggs can be left on clothing or jewelry. This is one of my favorite ways to do this, because you wear something that foreshadows something else, and people don't usually find out this one immediately, but they know you are probably sending a message. They'll figure it out in time. Lots of examples of this exist over the history of my career, which I hope they have put near my face."

→ So when I make a post analyzing the symbolism of her wearing a ruby-red dress after a decade of Oz references, I’m following Taylor’s own rules of engagement. If jewelry and fashion are deliberate in her world, why would we assume it stops at queerness?

Even Her Fingernails Are Easter Eggs

"A specific way you can leave Easter eggs is on nails. I'm not doing it right now... I just like glitter, but, there was a specific occasion where I did a Spotify vertical video for Delicate and I painted my nails the exact color tones that I wanted the next album to be. Some people picked up on it immediately, others picked up on it a few months down the line, but it made me feel nice to know that, ya know, when you plan something that far in advance... you're actually kind of just flexing on planning.... you're really just like, 'I planned this two years in advance.'"

→ If she can use her nail polish to foreshadow an album two years in advance, what makes you think a dress—on the music industry’s biggest night, after years of known Easter eggs—wasn’t a deliberate choice? Beyond the obvious, her boyfriend's football team's color??

She Uses Set Design & Symbolism to Hide Messages

"Another way that I really like to use Easter eggs is that I like to plant them in set design for photoshoots or music videos. I like to, uhm, I like to put coded messaging, sort of, uhm, you can see like a sign on a building or something on a wall, graffiti, a code that has me opening a door could be something significant..." "Another way that an Easter egg can express your message is through symbolism. So, a lot of the time I'll pick something that I think symbolizes something else. Like, I'll pick a snake as sort of the mascot for uhm ya know, feeling misunderstood, or ya know, being somebody that is not going to strike unless they're stepped on. Or, a butterfly, which is like kind of just breaking free of that kind of uhm, that darkness, and ya know, fluttering into the light. Or, a palm tree, I did a post on my Instagram and I posted 7 palm trees and I posted it on the day I finished my 7th album. A palm tree symbolizes rebirth, new beginnings, positive energy, so..."

→ So if she explicitly picks visual metaphors to represent deeper messages—why would we assume that her history of referencing Oz, queer-coded literature, and decades of hidden storytelling suddenly doesn’t matter?

Her Love for Easter Eggs Is a Decades-Long Tradition

"I really started doing this in music videos much more during the Reputation album because I wasn't doing interviews and I still wanted to be able to communicate messages to the fans and so the Easter eggs really went into overdrive. I think the most Easter egg-y video of my entire career thus far is Look What You Made Me Do ... LITERALLY THE WHOLE VIDEO IS JUST EASTER EGGS. THERE'S LIKE THOUSANDS OF EASTER EGGS. THERE ARE SOME PEOPLE STILL HAVEN'T FOUND. IT WILL BE DECADES BEFORE PEOPLE FIND THEM ALL!"

→ You heard her. Decades. If we’re still uncovering hidden meanings in her work from 2017, why would we assume there isn’t meaning in what she does now?

And Then… This Little Slip-Up

"Another way you can drop hints and leave an Easter egg is hints in print. I'll do an interview that's supposed to come out way before something else that is supposed to come out and I'll foreshadow this thing that's supposed to come out in this interview that I do that comes out way before this thing comes out."

👀 Say “come out” one more time, I dare you.

→ It’s almost poetic. She could have phrased this any other way, but she didn’t. Why?

Capitalizing Random Letters in Lyrics for Hidden Messages

"I thought, why not capitalize random letters and see if the fans figure out that if you take all the random letters and you put 'em together, it spells out little codes, secret messages. It could be one secret message per song, but then in other albums I had it, I had a secret message, like a story that would go throughout all the lyrics. I like this because to me it makes people read the lyrics, it makes an album more of an event. Easter eggs are a way to really sort of expand the experience of seeing something or hearing music."

→ So when we talk about Easter eggs being embedded in the very structure of her albums, we're literally playing the game she created. And yet, somehow, people still act like this level of depth is a reach.

The Classic Taylor Easter Eggs—13s & Cats

"The last thing I will mention is my go-to Easter eggs: These are things that may not lead to something in the future but they're just a tribute to my love for them. Those things are 13's and cats. If you see a cat in symbolism in my Easter egg situation, that's just cause I love cats. It's really that simple. Sometimes it means nothing other than just, like, reminding you how much I love cats. Also the number 13... really close to my heart. I will pick dates, I'll pick really important dates just because the numbers of that date add up to 13. It rules my life, so, uhm, ya know, any Easter egg fiend has their go-to's... those are mine."

→Of course, there are some Easter eggs that don’t lead to deeper meanings—Taylor even says so herself. But the key phrase here is “go-to” Easter eggs. These are her defaults, her personal symbols, the things she sprinkles in just because she loves them. That’s the whole point—she differentiates between casual tributes and intentional clues.

So when hetlors inevitably try to use this quote to say, “See? Not everything is that deep!”—they’re missing the bigger picture.

If some things are just for fun, that also means other things are deliberate. She literally told us how to tell the difference. Taylor’s Easter eggs aren’t random—they follow patterns, themes, and storytelling structures. If cats and the number 13 are her signature stamps, that doesn’t erase the documented history of her planting meaningful, layered symbols in her lyrics, visuals, and public appearances.

So no, every cat she posts isn’t a clue. But a decade of recurring visual and lyrical motifs tied to queerness, hidden love, and coded references to historically queer works? That’s not the same as “I love cats.”

This isn’t an all-or-nothing game. Some things are just aesthetic. Some things are artful misdirection. But some things are very, very real.

Her Conclusion

"So thank you so much for sitting down with me to talk about easter eggs, which I'm sure I enjoyed much more than you did. My cover of Entertainment Weekly is out. So if you wanna check that out, who knows, there could be easter eggs all throughout that thing, you just ya know, ya never know with me. See ya!"

So, Back to the Original Question:

Does Taylor Swift “Easter egg that deeply” about The Wizard of Oz?

If we take her at her own words—yes, she Easter eggs that deeply about everything.

She leaves clues for the people who want to see them. And many of us do.

Now, I’ll leave you with a question of my own:

👉 What’s your favorite queer-coded Easter egg in Taylor’s work? Drop it in the comments! 👈

[alaia777]

omg I got so excited when I saw your recent post😚😚 can I request “of course it’s you, confessing to someone at a time like this!” OR “we should just run away” with rin?🙏🏼 tysmmmm🫶🏼

helloooo! i might’ve gone a little crazy with this one—it’s got like 1800 words—but i really hope you like it! :’)

you heard from the cashier at the store that rin was back in town. you lived a couple of houses down from his parents place, but you two were never really close. sure, you were in the same class, but he was always too proud to actually acknowledge any of you.

you did, however, have a little crush on him. okay—a lot of a crush. at school, you always used to greet him loudly with “hey, rin!”, sit next to him whenever you could, conveniently “forget” your pen just so you could borrow his even though you had at least three in your bag, and ask him if he needed help with homework. you’d fake confusion on assignments just to make him explain them to you, cheer way too loudly when he got picked for sports activities—even if you weren’t on his team—and accidentally run into him in the hallways like, whoops, sorry! (it was never an accident).

honestly, looking back, you have no idea how he didn’t just move schools.

but that crush you used to have on him? yeah, that was long gone—at least, that’s what you told yourself. after all, he had chosen to follow his dream and leave this town behind, and you didn’t blame him one bit. if you had the chance, you probably would’ve done the same.

but now, sitting face-to-face with him, divided only by a dinner table, you started to realize maybe that crush wasn’t as gone as you thought.

this whole dinner was your neighbor’s idea. ever since her husband passed, she had been hosting these little gatherings every couple of months, saying it made her feel less alone. your family, along with two others who lived nearby—one of them being the itoshis—would all come together to keep her company. usually, these dinners bored you out of your mind, forcing you to sit through hours of polite small talk about things like gardening, overpriced home repairs, or who was getting promoted at the bank.

but today was different.

rin was here. in front of you. somehow, that one fact alone had completely changed the trajectory of this dinner.

should you get up and make a toast because rin is back? no, that would be ridiculous. you could already picture it: “to rin, the brother of the football prodigy, the underdog, the man who’s clearly still trying to outdo his older brother—let’s hope he finally does it.” you could already feel the awkward silence that would follow and the way he’d probably shoot daggers toward you. no, you weren’t that person anymore. and honestly, it would probably kill any chance of ever getting together with him, not that you were daydreaming about being with him or anything.

you were so lost in your daydream that you didn’t even hear your name being called. it was your sweet neighbor, who had been talking to you the whole evening with that warm smile of hers.

“honey, can you please go upstairs? in the closet next to the bathroom, there are some gifts i prepared for everyone. i just want to show my appreciation for always being here for me, and it’s something i worked really hard on doing.”

“sure, of course,” you said without hesitation, already moving toward the stairs. but as you started to climb, you overheard the conversation at the table.

“rin, be a sweetheart and help her, i’m afraid she might lose track of time in there,” your neighbor said.

you almost tripped on the stairs. rin? you glanced back over your shoulder, not sure whether to be annoyed or grateful. but there he was, with that usual uninterested look on his face, standing up from his chair with the slightest hint of reluctance.

he didn’t even glance your way as he walked past you, but you could feel the faintest hint of warmth creeping up your neck. maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all. you weren’t sure whether to feel irritated by his presence or oddly comforted, but you were about to find out.

when you got to the top of the stairs, he was already inside the tiny room, looking around for that pair of gifts. you gasped when you saw the inside of it—it was full of dolls, cool antiquities, and books. it literally felt like you’d walked into an antique store.

“oh my god, look at this doll, it looks just like you!” you said, bolting into the room and past rin, causing the door to close behind you by mistake.

“do you think if i pinch its cheeks, you’ll feel it?” you teased, holding up the doll and inspecting it, completely oblivious to rin’s reaction.

while you were looking around the room and trying not to touch everything that sparked your interest, rin had already found the gifts and was preparing to open the door to leave you in here alone. except the door wouldn’t budge when he tried to open it.

“what did you do?” you heard him ask, his voice edged with irritation.

“what are you talking about? i didn’t do anything.”

“you locked us in here.”

“no, i didn’t.”

you definitely didn’t, but maybe this was the universe giving you a chance to finally confess your feelings? or maybe this was your neighbor’s plan, or maybe your body subconsciously did it. or maybe—while you were thinking of all the possibilities—rin was trying to fix the door, trying the lock, pushing it. you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. it would be so funny to hear him scream for help to the guests downstairs.

“can you actually do something instead of making that weird face and holding that doll? you look creepy,” he muttered, frustration evident in his voice.

“it’s not just a doll,” you said, holding it up with an exaggerated amount of pride, “it’s you. look, it has your hair, your eyes, and it even has that little wrinkle between its eyebrows from frowning.”

you grinned widely, clearly enjoying the situation, but rin’s face was still set in a frown, his impatience growing by the second.

“can you try and smile a little? how did little me even have a crush on such a grumpy person?” you said, absentmindedly stroking the doll’s bangs. it wasn’t until you were met with silence—no snarky remark, no scoff, nothing—that you realized your mistake.

“oh my god, i didn’t mean it like that! like, it’s not like i could ever see myself dating you or anything because you’re so uptight—wait, no, that sounded worse—i mean, there’s nothing wrong with having a little crush! not that i still have one! maybe just a tiny bit, but that’s normal, right? i mean, you see—”

“of course it’s you, confessing to someone at a time like this,” rin deadpanned, looking thoroughly unimpressed—but you swore the tips of his ears were red.

and was this really a bad time? sure, the dolls in the room were a little creepy, the light kept flickering like a horror movie cliché, and, okay, you were technically stuck. but if rin would just get down on one knee and declare his undying love for you, this could actually be kind of romantic—

before you could finish that thought, you heard a soft click, and the door swung open to reveal your mom standing there, her eyes flicking between the two of you with mild suspicion.

“oh, there you are,” she said, raising an eyebrow before turning to rin. “come on, i’ll help you with the gifts.”

without another word, she stepped inside and started gathering the neatly wrapped packages, completely unaware of whatever just happened in that tiny room. rin, on the other hand, shot you a glance—one that very clearly said this conversation is not over.

you need to disappear. yep, that’s it. this is easily top five most embarrassing moments of your life. you need to buy a ticket to another country, get plastic surgery, change your hairstyle, and become an oil rig worker. maybe even change your name—something dramatic.

you’re still cycling through options when you finally make it back downstairs, sliding into your seat at the table without a word. you don’t even realize rin isn’t sitting in front of you anymore—not until he speaks.

“i’m picking up a cake for my mom tomorrow at the local bakery.” his voice is casual, like he’s commenting on the weather. then, just as effortlessly, he adds, “you can come if you want.”

you turn your head so fast it’s a miracle you don’t get whiplash, staring at him speechlessly. he, on the other hand, doesn’t even look at you, eyes fixed straight ahead like this is the most normal thing in the world.

at what, you don’t know. you don’t care. all you know is that your brain is short-circuiting, and you might need to add “fake your own death” to your escape plan.

“oh yeah, sure, totally dude.” why did you say dude? that was so weird. he’s definitely going to leave this table and never talk to you again. say goodbye to the little bakery date. i mean, at least you hope it’s a date, right?

but then, you catch a glimpse of him. his lips twitch, forming the tiniest smile—one that’s gone just as quickly as it appeared. for a second, you’re frozen, unsure of what to make of it.

you sit there for a moment, your mind racing. was that smile real? was he actually okay with this? the uncertainty swirls in your chest, but strangely enough, it doesn’t feel as overwhelming anymore. maybe, just maybe, this is the start of something new.

[myz-wykkyd]

Guys they did it again!!! Snowy and Co made another post about me and my friends after being told multiple times we just want to be left alone! I'm putting it under the cut this time so I stop clogging ya'lls dashboards but if you wanna come and sit at my table and tee-hee about it with me feel free. (Mean girl gifs because Snowy said I had Mean Girl energy). (Also FYI I appreciate any support but none of you are obligated to do so. I, like all of you, am eager for our fandom to return to normal. Thank you for your time/for reading).

DRAMA UNDER CUT<33 Also tw for potty mouth Ren.

I didn't think it be so soon but I got another fun post for ya'll! This time hailing from the amazingly unbias @Mtascritical // Snowy or one of his friends once again trying to smear me, my server, and my friends- all of whom are completely innocent of any wrong doing.

Link to the document addressing Snowy's Harmful behavior in the community: Link Link to my previous post with all my screenies: Link I wanna get into talking about this but genuinely the fact these people keep hiding behind sock puppet accounts is so funny- like, at least I have the nerve to put my whole name and account by what I say and leave my shit open for criticism. These guys keep blocking every single person who disagrees with them. Let's start with the obvious- Huni-bii is one of the most amazing, kindhearted people I've ever met in this community. I once asked her not to get involved in this because I know from experience how exhausting it is to have a target on your back and the last thing I wanted was for her to have to deal with that. But, Much like me, she has a strong sense of justice and chose to speak out against you because you were attacking innocent people within the fandom who did not deserve it. She's only just now started voicing her concerns about all this, and the fact you're trying to make her out to be some sort of collaborator in a grand conspiracy is ridiculous (Again with no evidence/that famous snowy leap in logic. All the people you listed are the ones who are victims of a hate campaign- not you. Once again, I'd appreciate it if you left all of us alone. I know Huni and I haven't actually rbed anything today about the drama and wouldn't have to if you just stopped. xD To finally get to it: I've explained the reason why I became involved in this multiple times, but they keep ignoring it- almost as if there isn't any excuse for their behavior. Let's go over it in one more time and I'll try and keep it simple/easier to read for Snowy and his friends.

Snowy has harassed, badmouthed, mocked, and ridiculed half the fandom. I know this might be a new concept to you Snowy, but that tends to very understandably upset people and make them wanna speak out against the bullying.

Ya'll keep saying that the length of the document and acting as if it's a of problematic behavior but Snowy himself is a fan of big documents.

I never wanted any part of this. Infact, I had no idea any of this was going on until multiple people came forward to warn me last October. I was dragged into it because Snowy, someone I do not know and have never spoken to, decided to spread rumors/lies about me and my server.

No one is obligated to like me and Snowy is no exception- but to make up lies in an effort to validate that dislike and then trying to spread them around as if they were fact is inherently problematic behavior.

If these sad little thoughts had been kept to yourself/your friends, I wouldn't have given a single, solitary fuck about what you had to say. But, again, SNOWY chose to spread these rumors as factual and I'm fully within my rights to defend myself as a result. The origin of these messages immediately became void when YOU made it public. Ever heard the phrase talk shit, get hit? Or if you can't handle the heat, get out of the kitchen.

SCREENSHOTS OF MY EMPTY CHATLOGS WIITH SNOW, PROOVING WE'VE NEVER SPOKEN. (Note I joined EO shortly after it opened and am no longer there.)

SCREENSHOTS OF SNOWY ENGAGING IN HARMFUL BEHAVIOR TOWARDS ME, AGAIN, A PERSON HE DOES NOT KNOW.

I actually took multiple steps to make sure that this didn't explode into conflict. For instance, right after I found out about this I followed the age-old, internet guide to curating my space and blocked him. After seeing these messages, I had no desire to engage with him. For safety reasons, I also blocked and removed friends of his from my Server. (A/N: Snowy himself had never been in my server and the two or thee friends who were in it we're removed shortly after they joined. All of you lost any right you had to be there the moment you decided to assist in Snowy's behavior.) I made no public mention of the problems between us and stepped back from the fandom because of my issues with anxiety.

Also Snowy was never in my server and has never provided anything to prove as much so him claiming it's toxic is hella disingenuous. Reeks of more jealousy to me as well, but can't probe that.

One of Snowy's friends' made a public post discussing the the situation. Though they didn't name me or my server, they speculated that their removal from here and my decision to cut ties with them over the rumors they were spreading made me complicit to the harassment Snowy had been receiving through dms. Snowy allowed them to make this statement knowing full well it was their own poor behavior that caused this situation and that I had done nothing but distance myself from them at that point.

Then ofc you and your friends keep making tumblr posts about this situation trying to minimize irrevocable hurt ya'll caused me and others instead of just leaving us alone as been repeatedly asked.

Once again I am politely asking you to leave all of us alone.

[specific-dreamer]

inspired by @broareweabouttoviberightnow ‘s post abt pony still having baby teeth. it’s not as good as i wanted it to be so soz for the abrupt ending 😭😭

Ponyboy did not have a great day at school, thanks for asking. It started off alright at least, but then, in gym class, they played kickball. And Pony’s fairly good at kickball, alright? Between ex-football player Darrel Curtis and Steve always-out-to-get-him Randle, he kind of had to be good at kickball.

Today, though, he didn’t stand a chance. Ponyboy was in charge of rolling the ball to the other team’s kicker and, honestly, no one could have expected the other guy to be such a strong kicker with such shitty aim and, well. The ball hit Ponyboy in the mouth with the force of at least ten Steve Randles.

He blacked out a little, it was a hard hit, alright, sue him, but he remembers everyone crowding around him, asking if he was alright or if he needed to go to the nurse. Ponyboy was fine thankfully, he even felt fine enough to keep playing. When he rolled the ball again, he ran his tongue over his teeth for good luck and he felt it. A loose tooth. That motherfucker knocked his tooth loose.

He almost couldn’t believe it, but a larger part of him was grateful. He’d been waiting for that tooth to come loose for a really long time. Plus, he kinda liked having a loose tooth; he forgot how much fun it was wiggling it around whenever he got bored. Usually, he had a loose tooth for a week before it’d eventually fall out. This time it lasted til lunch. Three hours after it first loosened.

It was the one time Ponyboy actually ate lunch in the cafeteria and he promised himself never again. But Curly really wanted some casserole surprise or whatever the lunch ladies were serving. Pony hadn’t thought it’d be edible, let alone good, so he grabbed a dull red apple for his lunch (that apple costed him three cents by the way. Three whole cents! Pony’s never eating in the cafeteria again, he swears it).

Ponyboy finished about half the apple when Curly abruptly dragged him out the cafeteria. He said something about how he forgot Dally and Steve were waiting for Pony, and by default himself,in the parking lot. That means Pony suffered through a pathetic lunch for nothing. He gives Curly a nice hard punch as he tosses the apple in the trash on the way out.

When they arrive at Steve’s car they find him and Dally in the middle of… an argument? They were glaring at each other in a way that could be mistaken for a staring contest, but Pony knows better. The two were probably about to duke it out if not for him and Curly arriving. Well, they probably still would have, but Dally glances at Pony once, turns back to Steve, then widens his eyes and almost breaks his neck turning back to Ponyboy.

“Fuck are you bleeding for?”

Pony frowns and instinctively touches his chest. “I am?”

Dally clicks his teeth, “From your mouth, idiot.”

The sound of a snicker then the most agitating voice Ponyboy has ever had the misfortune of hearing says, “You lose a fight and get punched in the mouth, kid?”

God, just the sound of Steve’s voice grates on Ponyboy’s nerves. Wait. His eyes widen and he quickly runs his tongue over his loose tooth. Well, where it should be. “My tooth!”

From the corner of his eye he can see Dally gagging, some blood may have spat from his mouth when he spoke, and Steve stiffening up and looking back at the school. Gearing for a fight he’ll probably lose, Pony thinks absently. “Shit, he knocked your tooth out!”

“When did you have time to get in a fight?” Ponyboy isn’t paying much attention to any of them, too busy searching the ground for his tooth, but he’s pretty sure Curly sounds more disappointed than worried, the asshole.

“Darry’s gon’ kill us— Would you quit actin’ a fool!” He can hear Steve slapping someone upside the head, Dally if the hiss is anything to go by. “What? Mr County Lock up ain’t never seen blood before?”

“You hit me again and you ‘bout to see some real blood.”

“You know who will hit us? Darrel.”

A pause. “Shit.”

“Shit,” Steve says in agreement.

Pony rolls his eyes and cuts his losses. He’s never gonna find that damn tooth. Who knows when he lost it. Wait, did he swallow it? What’s the last thing he ate? “That damn apple,” he answers aloud.

“What?” Curly asks. This is all his fault. If he didn’t drag Pony to the cafeteria then he never would’ve eaten that apple.

“I ate that damn apple,” he shoves Curly for emphasis. “And it took my fucking tooth.”

“Why am I getting abused! The fuck?”

“Wait. Hang on, munchkin.”

“I am not—!”

“Shut up, munch,” Steve repeats. “Are you telling me you lost a fight to an apple?” Dallas doesn’t even try to hide a snort.

Ponyboy is very much not pouting okay? “It was already loose! Hardly a fair fight,” Pony climbs into the backseat of the car and he's mostly over this stupid conversation. He doesn’t need to explain himself to them. He lost his tooth big whoop, that’s hardly any of their business. Leaning over the side of the car, he spits a good amount of blood into the parking lot and he can hear Dally gagging again. Serves him right for laughing, Pony thinks.

[zeroseuniverse]

Lights, Camera, Action!

Word Count:725 Summary:“Relax, it’s just acting. It’s not like we’re actually in love.” “Right! Exactly!” she said, maybe a little too quickly. Pairing: Yuta X Fem Reader A/N: Posting this early because I adore him so much

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If someone had told her years ago that she’d one day be stuck in a romantic drama with Yuta Nakamoto, she would’ve laughed in their face.

Not because Yuta was a bad co-star—he was one of the most charismatic actors she knew. And definitely not because she hated the idea of being in a romance with him. No, the real reason was far more ridiculous.

People already thought they were in love.

She and Yuta had been best friends since they both debuted as rookie actors, climbing their way through the industry together. They had the kind of friendship that was full of playful insults, dramatic threats, and way too much time spent in each other’s personal space.

If she had a press event, Yuta was there hyping her up in the comments section. If Yuta was seen with any female co-star, she was the first to start fake crying about being “betrayed” in their group chat. Fans adored their chaotic dynamic.

Which is why, when they were cast as the lead couple in Love at First Overtime, the entire internet collectively lost its mind.

—

“I cannot believe this,” she groaned, sprawled across the couch in Yuta’s dressing room. “They did this on purpose.”

Yuta grinned from his spot across the room. “Who’s ‘they’?”

“The producers. The casting directors. The universe.”

“Oh, definitely the universe.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Or maybe it’s just fate.”

She grabbed a pillow and hurled it at him. “Shut up, Nakamoto.”

He caught it easily, laughing. “Relax, it’s just acting. It’s not like we’re actually in love.”

“Right! Exactly!” she said, maybe a little too quickly.

Yuta’s gaze lingered on her for a second too long before he shrugged. “Guess we’ll just have to make it really convincing, huh?”

—

Everything was fine until the kiss scene rehearsal.

She had kissed people on-screen before. So had Yuta. They were professionals. This was nothing.

Except, it was something.

The moment Yuta stepped closer, something inside her brain short-circuited.

His scent—clean, musky, familiar. His eyes—watching her like he was waiting for something. His hands—resting on her waist with a touch so light it sent shivers up her spine.

Her heart wasn’t supposed to be doing this.

Yuta hesitated, brows furrowing slightly. “Why are you holding your breath?”

“I’M NOT,” she blurted out, shoving him away. “I just—I just remembered I left my stove on at home!”

Yuta stared at her. “You don’t cook.”

“…Maybe I started today.”

The director sighed. “Alright, take five.”

Yuta followed her backstage, arms crossed. “Okay, what’s up with you?”

“Nothing!”

“You literally ran away from me. Twice.”

She groaned, rubbing her temples. “I don’t know, okay? Maybe it’s just weird! We’ve been best friends forever, and now we have to pretend to be in love—”

“Pretend?” Yuta cut in, raising an eyebrow.

She froze. “Uh. Yes?”

He took a step closer. “You sure?”

Her stomach flipped.

“I—Of course I’m sure!” she snapped, feeling a little too warm under his gaze.

Yuta smirked. “So you wouldn’t mind if we kissed right now?”

She let out a choked laugh. “What kind of question is that?!”

“Just checking.”

She turned away, completely ignoring the way her cheeks were burning.

—

Later that night, She found herself scrolling through clips of their past interviews.

“Yuta, do you have an ideal type?” The MC asked, the camera shifting to watch a sweet smile form on Yuta's face.

“Mmm. Not really. I think I already have the perfect girl in my life.” He answered.

“You and Yuta seem really close! Have you ever thought about dating him?” The MC asked, shifting the focus towards her swiftly. 

“Hah! No way. We’d probably end up murdering each other.”

“You wound me.” uta added from the background his hand clutching his chest in faux hurt. 

She stared at her screen.

OH.

OH NO.

Had he…? Had she…?

No. There was no way.

Right?

—

The next day, the kiss scene went way too smoothly.

Their lips met.

It was soft. Warm. Lingered just a second too long.

The director shouted, “Cut!”

They didn’t move.

Yuta pulled back slightly, eyes flickering down to her lips before smirking. “So… still method acting?”

She groaned. “Shut up and kiss me again.”

And just like that, the two biggest idiots in the world finally figured it out.

(Their fans? Lost their minds.)

[blondphobic]

in celebration of my 1st anniversary as a lads player, i’m sharing my ranking of the current love interests and some random thoughts on them, not that anybody asked or care about

1st place of course comes Rafayel, I wouldn’t be exaggerating saying he’s everything I like in a otome character, he’s SO charismatic, caring, funny, passionate, a switch (jeez who wrote that?), endearing and more, he caught my eye the moment I started playing the game, I adore his dynamic with mc, I’m very fond of flirty banter and they delivered.

he’s so complex and by coincidence I wrote this quite-long-but-not-as-long-as-the-original-draft post yesterday about how people simplify his character’s internal conflict and that he’s much MUCH more than most fans seems to give him credit, I didn’t even know today was gonna be my 1st anniversary, I found out because they sent me celebrative messages, I wrote that just because I fucking love Rafayel. I love you, Rafayel!

2nd place comes Xavier, I’ve been in a Xav phase recently, I can’t really say why because I actually don’t know, I’m just in a Xavier mood, I like his personality and his interactions with MC, he’s very tender, friendly and sweet, I really like that, the jealousy thing kinda activates my fight or flight but I chose to overlook it since he isn’t my main and another LIs gonna step into the 2nd place next month anyway.

3rd place is Zayne, I almost put him on 2nd because I really really like Zayne but it’s more in a “we’re besties” way, love his personality, he’s very kind and considerate, I unaronically think he’s really funny and he’s such a sweetheart with MC, ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ love this guy.

4th place’s Sylus, he was actually 2nd place for some months but somehow ended in 4th here, proving that except for Rafa, my ranking changes constantly, I really appreciate him tho, he’s a very charismatic character. like Zayne he just wouldn’t work for me at long term, he’s too daddy dom archetype for my personal taste, every time he calls MC “kitten” I get the ick.

5th place and surprising no one, comes Caleb for a bunch of reasons (but not the reasons people imagine I would have), not only he just got added to the game and we barely got time to grow attached to him yet but because being honest (and controversial), I find him kinda boring.

I’m not very fond of childhood friends to lovers so this end up influencing my opinion on him, I dislike how this trope relies on fake nostalgia over moments the characters shared together and forget the fact that I, the real person playing the game, wasn’t there and therefore have no emotional connection to this character. He always going “remember when you did that?” “remember how we use to do that?” no, I don’t.

Caleb was on scream for like 5 minutes then fucking exploded now he’s back acting psycho, Infold is giving me zero to none time to build any fondness for him so for me he’s just a rando who’s trying to kidnap me, I get he went through some brainwashing shit but since I don’t know him his betrayal just doesn’t hit like it suppose to hit. I didn’t felt betrayed, I felt disgusted.

also I can’t lie, overprotective men aren’t for me, even before being brainwashed Caleb was already too much for my liking, I already have enough people in my real life who think they know what is best for me more than I do, I don’t need this energy in my silly lil hot men game, if I wake up one day feeling like spending time with a man who’s overprotective to the point of being overbearing I can just hang out with my dad.

that being said I don’t hate him, my heart is forgiven when it come to characters if they’re well-written, Infold made a good job with all of them to this point so there still hope for Caleb, Sylus was lowkey a cunt in the beginning too and everyone seems to have forgotten by now

as a bonus, my expectations to the 6th LI: I want him to be related to Ever but I don’t want him to be a ceo because that would be very boring, there’s nothing sexy about making money by exploiting workers and Sylus kinda already fill the ceo archetype, I would prefer a guy who is/was a scientist working for Ever but he discovered things he didn’t suppose to discover and now wants to leave, something along those lines, we also need a sub character because the girlies who aren’t into the dom daddies are clearly in disadvantage, give us someone even more needy than Rafayel, give us a man who’s so pathetic. He having colored hair would be cool too.

also I want to propose we start referring to the LIs as “the lads” because refereeing to them as “LIs” sounds cold to me and calling them lads is goofy so it’s makes me laugh

[eepyuii]

frostbite — pt. 16

pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader

content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slow burn

cw ; reader spiraling a little bit, typical violence, very brief mentions of pain and blood

notes ; guys. so uhm. i don’t know what the fuck happened

while i never planned to stop writing frostbite entirely, i was sure that it would still take a while for me to actually *want* to continue it, as i’ve been endlessly burnt out from college and in a little bit of an artistic block (not to mention falling quite a bit out of genshin after natlan came out, but who’s surprised)

like i shit you not, i might genuinely have been possessed last night because i just opened my draft for the latest chapter (that got started in fucking SEPTEMBER of last year btw) and just. started writing. unfortunately that doesn’t mean i’ll start posting regularly again, i might never put out chapters as quickly as i did when i started frostbite but just know that i HAVE NOT GIVEN UP ON THIS!!!!!!! GENSHIN IS TEMPORARY BUT TARTAGLIA IS FOREVER!!!!! HUZZAH!!!!!!!!!!

(oh yeah and there’s a lot of wriothesley shenanigannery in this one. yeah this is heading where you think it is, sorry guys)

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he’s so close, you can almost feel his gloved hand held within your own.

it’s as though you’re children playing chase again, only this time you follow his glaring red scarf and his fiery head of hair through the rusted hallways of an underwater prison, rather than the snow covered field of your childhood.

he specters through the walls of the fortress, disappearing and reappearing far ahead of you just as you’re about to reach him. you call out to him ceaselessly even though it proves futile— either he’s ignoring you or entranced by something else. finally, his pace comes to a halt as he turns to a hallway overgrown with moss. a cool breeze wafts in from the hallway and as you step further in, finding that the hallway ends in a pool of glowing water. primordial seawater.

even though you’re fully aware that neither you nor him would be affected by the primordial waters, a bad feeling settles in your stomach and you rush to stop him. your pleas continue to fall on deaf ears— he steps closer and closer, until his boots touch the mouth of the pool.

you’re so close… so close that you decide to leap to close in the distance between the two of you. he’s at the tip of your fingers… and then—!

fucking ouch.

you land on the cold, unforgiving metal ground of your room with a harsh slam. gods, what are you, five years old? falling off the bed because of a dream?

certainly doesn’t help that the scenery you’re rudely woken up to is the sad, grimy bronze walls that only remind you that you’re still in prison for a ridiculous fake crime. suddenly, the situation settles into the rest of your body— as the fatigue and ache bleed into your muscles from all the backbreaking work you did yesterday for the sake pathetic little credit coupons, added onto the pain currently spreading on your side from your fall.

you groan tiredly. back to the grind, you suppose.

a lazy hand reaches out to the table next to your bed to count the amount of coupons you’ve gathered in the last few days. ugh, still not enough to buy the information from that idiot guy, vidoc. you consider your options while trying your best to stretch your muscles— the pain that shoots your limbs is unspeakable.

okay, so no heavy-work today. while that is the best way to earn a bunch of coupons, your body most certainly cannot handle it. if only there were painkillers around the fortress…

wait.

—

“now, keep it compressed with these bandages, ice it whenever you can and- obviously, don’t put too much force on it.” you finish tightening up the gauze on some poor inmate’s sprained wrist as he listens intently. once the gauze is certifiably fastened on his wrist, you take the opportunity to wrap both your hands around the joint and ever so slightly activate your cryo powers in an impromptu measure of icing the sprain.

“got it, thanks, doc.” the man nods appreciatively, hearing the nickname ‘doc’ again leaves you with a long lost warm feeling. for the first in months, you finally feel like you’re back in function— simply tending to others’ medical needs, even if it is just you working temporarily at the fortress of meropide’s infirmary.

sigewinne writes down reports and notes on her clipboard swiftly, having allowed you to cover the incoming patients while she busies herself with paperwork. only for a moment does she look up to watch yet another inmate trot out the infirmary with a satisfied air to them. she throws you a pleasant grin and hops up to proudly slap you on… well, what would sentimentally be your shoulder, but the highest she reaches is your hip.

“good work, y/n! it’s not very often that someone volunteers to work at the infirmary with me, so i’m quite grateful for your help!” the melusine praises.

you chuckle sheepishly as you neatly put away the equipment you just used. “it’s my pleasure, miss sigewinne. this kind of stuff is almost therapeutic for me.”

sigewinne giggles before she looks off thoughtfully— shooting up as she suddenly remembers something. “ah! speaking of therapeutic, i have to find the duke and speak to him about the package of romaritime flowers i-“

heavy footsteps approach the infirmary, ones that seem almost familiar to you, as they quickly reveal to come from the duke himself, as if summoned. you jump slightly once his imposing figure enters the room, moments from your last meeting flashing before your eyes. hoping to remain unseen, you choose to divert your attention to the patient who rests off a fever in the corner of the infirmary and turn your back to the other two, checking the inmate’s temperature.

“wriothesley, perfect timing! i was just on my way to speak to you about the order of supplies i placed.”

“well good morning to you too, sigewinne,” the duke muses. “mm, yes, i’ll have to check with the front desk and see about— …oh! good morning, y/n, didn’t expect to find you working at the infirmary.”

god dammit.

you turn around slowly like a child with their hand caught in the cookie jar and throw wriothesley a tight-lipped, awkward smile before returning to your previous task. the duke doesn’t seem to notice your sheepishness as he continues to watch you with a smile.

“well, it is nice to see you in your element.” he comments into the otherwise painfully awkward air of the infirmary. the notion that wriothesley would ever be amused by seeing you do medical work, that he would ever even regard your existence as anything more than another fatuus residing in his prison, leaves a foreign fuzzy sensation across your chest.

“say, would you like to join me this afternoon for another talk?”

the question surprises you entirely, as your last talk hadn’t exactly been the most casual and innocent of talks… you frown towards wriothesley accordingly and he seems to immediately understand your concern.

“don’t worry, you can choose the tea this time.” he jokes, thankfully sigewinne doesn’t seem to think much more about the implications of it.

well, who are you to deny the duke of meropide, so you answer with a simple ‘sure’. the fortress’ head nurse senses the thickness in the air and moves the conversation back to where she had left it off and steps up to the exit of the infirmary.

“well! we should get going to the front desk, those romaritime flowers must be stored properly before they start withering. that is, if they’re even here at all.”

you hear sigewinne’s voice grow quieter and quieter as she leaves and turn back, once more, to your function. though… as you dip a small towel in warm water to put against the feverish inmate’s forehead, you realize only one set of footsteps was heard leaving the infirmary. a sudden warmth creeps up from the back of your neck and settles on your cheeks.

“…wriothesley?” you hear sigewinne call out from far away.

“r-right, yes.”

heavy, thumping footsteps leave the room— from right behind you. why is your heart even beating faster? this is nothing.

it’s so absolutely nothing that you entirely forget about it within your dedication to taking care of the infirmary while sigewinne is gone and the hours pass by in a flash. as you send off your latest patient, the emptiness of the infirmary room settles differently. there’s a certain air of uneasiness, a familiar chill in your spine— it instinctively tells you that you’re being watched. shoulders tense, you look around the bend of the large metal pipe that constitutes the hallway, finding no sign of life. the gnawing suspicion in your gut doesn’t leave you still, yet you choose to brush it off and occupy yourself with something else.

“sergeant y/n l/n from the medical division, eh?” a taunting voice calls out from behind you. should’ve listened to your gut.

you turn coldly to face two smug inmates. at first you presume it’s just some regular wingus and dingus who’ve got a particular distaste for fatui and decided to pick on you to fulfill their little uneventful lives rotting away in a prison. and then… you look down to see a familiar symbol in the form of a silver brooch hanging from one of the two’s pocket. and his buddy’s got one too.

oh— oh they’re even more pathetic than you thought.

and therefore not worthy of your time, so you simply roll your eyes with a demeaning scoff and slide past the two goons to make your way out the infirmary. only before you can get away, a painfully firm grip latches onto your elbow and pulls you back.

“woah! not so fast there, we’ve still gotta talk-“

“has nobody taught you to respect your superiors? you called me sergeant, did you not? now act like it.” you spit venomously.

the second fatuus chuckles smugly. “and haven’t you learned that none of that bullshit applies here? we’re all equals in the fortress of meropide.” choosing not to make a comeback, the silence allows for the two to scornfully look you up and down, as if scrutinizing a roach on the floor— you merely roll your eyes away from their gaze. one of them scoffs. the one holding your arm tightens his grip cruelly, forcing an involuntary wince out of you.

“dottore’s little lap dog.. agh s-shit-!“ he sneers, though barely as the last word rolls disdainfully off his tongue, searing rage shoots up your spine and into your trapped arm. it’s like a reflex you don’t control and you find enough strength to twist your arm in his grip and in return, grasping onto his throat tightly.

just like he did before, you continuously tighten your grip mercilessly, as the poor jackass still tries to find the time to react to your movement— choking on the air and desperately trying to suck air back into his throat.

“don’t you ever, ever, even fucking think of calling me that again, you-“ you snarl rabidly, as ice uncontrollably emanates from your hand and spreads onto the fatuus’ skin with a cruel hiss. he immediately tries recoil away from you, pained gasp struggling to leave his throat. as if feeling the icy sting yourself, you recoil away from him, finally awaking from your sudden fit of anger.

you look down at your own hand— it looks foreign to you, like a hand that would hurt some, while douchey, blameless fool isn’t a hand that would belong to you. cryo energy still buzzes under your skin and leaves the muscles in your palm slightly spasming. turning back up toward the two fatui, they look at you incredulously, sneering at you like you’re a rabid animal that briefly lost control.

you feel utterly suffocated.

vision spotting and ears ringing, your feet take you far from the infirmary hallway before you even realize. when you feel like you’ve composed yourself enough, you look around to realize you’ve ended up at the administrative center of the fortress— it’s barren of people and deafeningly silent, sparing the ever-present hum of machinery that emanates dully from every corner of this prison, likely due to the fact that most inmates had already gone back to their quarters to rest at this time of day. you merely stand there, taking in the sheer emptiness of the floor and letting the sound of your own heartbeat thrum inside your ears without a certain course of action.

your eyes wander around aimlessly and eventually, land on the elevator that leads down to the pankration ring. you’d never given the ring much thought, as it seemed like nothing you’d ever want to engage in simply by your nature. but then again… choking someone with your bare hand wasn’t something of your nature, but you still did it. perhaps a more, let’s say, active way to cool your nerves doesn’t sound so bad after all. you didn’t even realize you had nerves to tend to in the first place, but it’s not like being in prison is a fucking cake walk.

you space out as the elevator starts descending to the pankration ring, mind filling with plans of what else you had or could do in the fortress tomorrow to investigate childe’s disappearance. you think of places to go and people to talk to as you absentmindedly step off the elevator and into the ring— barely paying attention to the obscenely obvious other presence inside. a particularly heavy thud, like a hard punch, is what snaps back to reality and your chest seems to stutter, stunned at the sight.

it’s him.

wriothesley, the duke of meropide, throwing the most ruthless of hits against the poor, beaten-down dummy inside the boxing ring at the center of the room. he moves and swings like a professional boxer, body fully and utterly committed to the practice— so much so that he doesn’t even notice you, facial expression intense and focused.

his back is slightly faced toward you and it’s only then that you realize that he’s fucking shirtless. rippling, shifting muscles compose his back, decorated with various scars and twinkling beads of sweat. you’re ashamed to admit that you find yourself entranced by the sight. and so you won’t admit it. before you allow your jaw to drop too low at what’s before you, you shake your shoulders as if to brush away your fluster— the fluttering sound of your clothes is impossibly quiet… yet the duke seems to hear it from where he stands inside the ring and pauses his task abruptly.

he turns around and the way he shifts is almost in slow motion. wriothesley prepares a hardened face to show to whoever has dared to interrupt his private training session but the moment it actually lands on your figure, his entire body seems to soften in its resolve. you hate that the relaxation of his muscles is heavily accentuated and highlighted by the light that hangs over the boxing ring.

“y/n! …i must say, i really did not expect to find you here.” wriothesley chuckles breathlessly, eyes twinkling with pleased surprise.

you despise how heavily he pants from exhaustion and how you can’t seem to stop watching him do so. it’s a miracle that your scattered mind actually remembers that you had agreed to meet him for tea, which as seen by the late hours of night, did not happen. what is wrong with you today?

you choke on nothing and clear your throat to mask your lack of composure. “ah-! y-yes uhm… to be honest, i never expected to ever want to come to the pankration ring either but-“

the image of the terrified fatuus shivering beneath your hand flashes punishingly bright behind your eyes.

“-but i guess i might as well try it out while i’m here.” your smile is forced.

regardless of whether or not wriothesley notices that, he flashes you a warm smile and extends a welcoming hand. you reluctantly step up the stairs and inside the ring, feeling immediately out of element. you idiot, why did you even agree to this? why did you even think it was a good idea before coming down here? yes, you know how to fight in combat but you’re not… a fighter.

you fight if you must but you don’t resort to violence arbitrarily… at least, you didn’t. the duke, as if sensing your turmoil, puts a well-timed comforting hand on your tense shoulder as his other one encouragingly holds out a roll of hand wrap.

“hey, even if this isn’t usually your cup of tea,” he jests, obviously not taking your ‘ditch’ to his invite to heart— you still feel guilty about it. “you should still try to relieve whatever tension you have. and it seems like you’ve got enough tension to bring you all the way down here.”

he’s so… friendly. you don’t even know what you’ve done to deserve such lighthearted familiarity from someone like the literal warden of the prison you’re locked in. even as you struggle to wrap the hand wraps properly, wriothesley offers to help without a thought. like he’s known you for years— like it’s no problem that he’s still fucking shirtless in front of you. you feel dizzy.

the duke doesn’t even ask if you know how to fight or not, your unspoken sergeant title answers his unspoken question. he merely watches as you swing experimentally at the dummy, pausing periodically to allow your knuckles to throb and hum silently with each strike against the tough, worn surface of the dummy. eventually, you pause less often, you hit faster and harder, you stop thinking about your next swing. subconsciously, your face adopt the same intense expression you’d seen wriothesley wear when you arrived and your teeth grit with animalistic instinct.

it’s nearly an out-of-body experience, you barely realize what you’re doing and just relish in the way the strain in your arms and the sting in your knuckles turns into an electric rush. you don’t even focus on why you were stressed in the first place— the fact that you’re in prison, the workload, the investigation, the two fatui stooges you encountered today, childe’s disappearance… even wriothesley seems to disappear from view despite being palpably present and shamelessly intrigued by your commitment. you might even allow yourself to admit that you’re enjoying this, that you maybe just a little bit understand why childe loves this so fervently. now that you think about it, you’re 1000% sure that childe spent most of his free time in the prison absolutely demolishing the scoreboard at the pankration ring— you chuckle mentally at that image. unfortunately, that’s all the amusement your brain allows you to have before you’re overcome with anguish as you’re reminded of the fact that childe is still missing. at this point in your life, you’re certain you’ll grow grey hairs at a ridiculously young age from the sheer stress that childe unintentionally brings you.

it seems that you cannot spare even a single breath where you’re not worrying over him. worrying over his whereabouts, his health, his utter lack of self-preservation or limitation, his thirst for battle… his dizzyingly beautiful eyes, his endearing freckles, his breathtaking battle scars, his hearty laughter… his suffocating proximity to you when you were patching up his injuries in the hotel bathro—

“woah, y/n! h-hold on!” wriothesley calls out and suddenly you’re back at the pankration ring, except now the dummy in front of you has brand new fist-shaped bloodstains and your knuckles hurt like fucking hell.

as your chest heaves up and down intensely with desperation to regulate your breathing, your heart hammering like never before, the duke approaches your stunned figure with caution. he gently takes one of your aching hands in his to inspect it, feathery touches over your knuckles. after the train of thought you had gotten into, wriothesley’s gesture leaves the butterflies in your stomach utterly confused and fluttering as if they’re short-circuiting, your brain in the same state.

you might pass out.

within two blinks, your surroundings have warped into a familiar office and a teacup is placed in front of you.

taglist ; @kentply @osaemu @rain-and-a-nice-nap @koichirana

[arcadiaamber]

i giggled reading this btw... today i learned how pissed off i can get pricefielders

anyways... im not even gonna geti nto the first point because i cannot comprehend whatever the fuck ur saying so... 😭😭😭‼️‼️‼️

2. calling me a dumbass is so funny but anyways.. i get that they have their chemistry or whtv but its literally not like they NEED to get back together 😭😭😭😭😭 if anything id like it if they just stayed best friends.. b. reconnecting with chloe most likely would NOT help her move on from the past because chloe IS the past. (i mean seriously shes her ex have u ever felt a sapphic breakup that shit HURTS..) me wanting max to be able to move on from her past without chloe is not bias and actually comes from what i want to see in her character aka GROWTH.. i get she can grow with chloe but she can as easily grow by herself its not like being by yourself is inherently a bad thing LMFAO.. perchance her growing without chloe might be better.. the fact u went thru my posts like a fan flatters me but i promise you im not a d9 bootlicker i just enjoy double exposure like a regular person would.. also im a pricefielder, except i dont kiss dontnod's ass sooo.... there was zero "character assassination" for either of them in my opinion anyways. i think theyre both in character, max is still the socially awkward nerd but shes more confident and i think thats a great thing. chloe breaking up with max because of the fact she couldnt move on from arcadia bay is realistic of her and definitely shows her growth from her 19 year old self to her mid 20s self. i dont get why you want these characters to be one dimensional and stay stuck as the same person forever.. they were teenagers in lis1. they are going to grow and change thats life. also you pointing out that max broke space and time for chloe enforces my opinion that max is codependent on chloe. she doesnt care what it takes or even what happens to her she just wants chloe to be safe, and i dont really think thats HEALTHY.. but what do i know about healthy relationships...

3. i hope u realize i was half joking when i said it wasn't bias for safield.. like yeah i obviously have some bias but also its nkt completely unrealistic to hope that the next game focuses on the two main character's' relationship 😭😭😭😭 idk man i feel like ur going a little loopy..

4. again with the insults ijbol... i never said that actually i said that i would be happy IF that was the endings given.. i never said i wanted her to be attached to ANYONES hip 😭😭😭😭 and i quite literally said after that id rather her be by herself for a while WHICH AGAIN ISNT A BAD THING.

5. i dont know how u sat there, played all five episodes of lis1 and came out of there with the conclusion its about pricefield. if there wasnt any violence against young women committee by jefferson the game wouldnt have a plot. it wouldnt have a story.

mannn idk after reading allat im inclined to believe you wrote that seething, steam coming out of ur ears, whistling like a teapot because i didnt kiss dontnod's ass and actually have a mind of my own. the amount of delusion in that essay as well good lordddd 😭😭😭😭😭 this is my first and LAST time i respond to one of these bullshit responses cause ya'll spew so much shit out ur ass it baffles me how u guys actually think that...

this is probably going to be EXTREMELY controversial so i dont expect ANYONE to agree (please dont hate me 🙏🙏🙏‼️‼️‼️) but i REALLY DONT WNAT CHLOE BACK IN DE2. I HAVE REASONS!!!!!!!!

1. i think that it'll be viewed as a cash grab and like pricefield / chloe fans r never happy sooooo

2. if chloe and max were to get back together for some unforeseen reason i think that woukd ruin max's potential growth in de2 in my opinion. like i PERSONALLY think that her 'losing' chloe should help her move on from the past and should be portrayed as something that can help her move forward instead of dwelling on what could have been (as taylor swift once said, everything you lose is a step you take 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️)

3. i think she'd be so out of place and id rather have de2 focus on max and safi's relationship and this highkey sounds lkke bias because of my fixation but i PROMISE YOU its not.. mostly...

4. i think that max should grow by herself i really dont think she needs to be attached to chloe by the fucking hip.. like i would be so fucking ecstatic if you got to be with amanda/vinh/safi at the end of de2 but i think the most realistic ending would be for her to be by herself, not FOREVER, but for a good amount of time for her to be secure with being by herself because i personally think max is extremely codependent with chloe.. if .. that makes sense

[revvethasmythh]

it's so funny to me that caleb and veth really did just trade off the job of intensely pining for the other at like the halfway point of the campaign. like, imo, nott in the early days did not behave in any real romantic or even romance-adjacent ways toward him--I imagine it would be very hard to even think in that way when you hate what you look like so much, have such low self-esteem, and are actively lying about your entire past, including a secret husband. caleb, on the other hand, is kind of diving directly back into the sort of relationship he had with astrid and eadwulf. very close, very intimate, we-huddled-for-warmth-together-and-oops-it-led-to-something-else sort of thing. he is the one who expresses that he's fine with it if people think he and nott are romantically together when they're talking to keg. nott is the one who pushes back on that. he calls her his life partner. unknowingly, he compares his feelings for nott to nott's feelings for yeza. his behavior only really starts to change after he finds out about veth's husband because suddenly all of that other stuff is rendered inappropriate in retrospect. but even then he compliments her to yeza over dinner in the most awkward of ways, he admits to being jealous, he calls yeza "a lucky man" to have her, he stares at veth and yeza closed bedroom door for far too long, he creates an entire arcane tower with room for her family just so she'll stay with him. in general, his behavior is not, um, totally and completely platonic about it, you know?

like, veth's feelings for caleb are canonical and therefore indisputable in their existence, but caleb in the early days was not that dissimilar to how veth was acting near the end of the campaign. it really paints a picture of "right person, wrong time" in the way things just didn't line up for them. or, as veth would say: "in another world, maybe"

[vellichorom]

we've waited all 8 years, to fi~na~lly bring true our fears; newcomers to watch us play, & veterans rejoice - it's our day! 🎉

[icewindandboringhorror]

Pages from trying to keep a little sketchbook-scrapbook type thing going for two weeks lol. I gave myself specific rules in hopes they might all end up more cohesive/consistent seeming, but alas, scribbly chaos reigns, it seems