#2018 as well huh

[yourplaceinaugust]

making non tumblr user friends was a mistake bc i was ranting about symbrock to my friend and ended it by saying "the third movie needs to be rated r so they can fuck" and my friends only response was "what the fuck"

[jack-kellys]

nononono race totally has game. there’s poker, blackjack, texas hold ‘em, gin rummy….

[oldtvandcomics]

Happy Queer Media Monday!

Today: Paradise Lost (2018)

Most beautiful movie I’ve seen since The Blue Caftan.

(Picture taken from Netflix, because Google didn’t give me a lot to work with. This is Imã, in one of his performance costumes.)

Police officer Odair randomly ends up at a small bar called Paradise Lost, run by a family. The grandfather hires him as a bodyguard for Imã, his very effeminate (and gay) grandson, who runs a certain risk of getting hatecrimed. As he spends more time at the bar, Odair grows close to the different family members, who all have their own battles to fight, and discovers something about them that will also affect his own life.

This movie was SO BEAUTIFUL, I’m still not over it half a week after I watched it. The story is wonderfully human, but it’s the execution that makes it special. The way it’s shot is gorgeous, with some very good frames and great use of color. Then there is the music. The entire movie is carried by the songs sung by the different family members, which for one is good to listen to, but also adds so much intimacy to the whole thing.

If I find more movies like this and The Blue Caftan (2022) (another one so beautiful that I’m still not over it), I will have to make a separate category somewhere for “queer movies that are just too beautiful, in a very bittersweet way”.

Watch it. It’s on Netflix and Mubi. Also, here is the IMBD link.

Queer Media Monday is an action I started to talk about some important and/or interesting parts of our queer heritage, that people, especially young people who are only just beginning to discover the wealth of stories out there, should be aware of. Please feel free to join in on the fun and make your own posts about things you personally find important!

[nguyenfinity]

Better question is whose kidney

[istherewifiinhell]

still using birthday pass for being cringe

[cough cough webbed site if we could youngest post] like whats the point of being the protected child and the outcast child. a distractor and a distraction. a problem solver who no one fucking tells anything. a mediator and a shit stirrer. learning the people who helped you or hurt you were far too young. grow into a niche of whatever was left for you to fill. break everything left cause there was no way to grow without changing how they thought of you. bend with the treatment and acquise with a resentful smile. break and explode carrying every offence. reach out knowing you may find new growth under the ruins if you can learn out to care for it.

[crustaceousfaggot]

Do you think Gary Russel knows that, despite the thousands of hours he's put into this franchise, his most well known legacy is (arguably) all the fanart of teenage Theta Sigma and Koschei kissing. Do you think it keeps him up at night.

Gary Russel has got to be one of the strangest contributors to Doctor Who. Guy who has had a substantial impact on the canon of the show, while also never writing or directing a single episode. He gave us one of the worst Big Finish audios ever written, but he also gave us fucking Zagreus. He allegedly shut down the Canon Fiveainley Novel Pitch with a "death glare", but also wrote the book that's basically considered the Academy Era Thoschei Bible at this point. What a guy

[no-144444]

hi! i love your blog and i know this is kind of weird but just hear me out. do you remmeber the 'anything but f1' thing they did this year? what if oscar's topic was his girlfriends career and she was like a huge superstar on broadway and on the screen? and he like knew EVERYTHING and answered every question perfectly?

i hope you like this idea, if not, that's totally fine.

thank you ml xxx

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knowing me, knowing you- o.piastri

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a/n: thank you for requesting! sorry it took so long :)

summary: i suggest you look at the ask...

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

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Oscar was too warm and tired for this. He stood in front of a camera, smelling like hairspray and some sort of spray the makeup artist had put on his face, while he was asked all of the ‘Grill the Grid’ questions. 

“That’s it for ‘Grill the Grid’,” she explained. “But this year we have a new segment.”

“Oh yeah?” he questioned, his interest piqued. 

“Yeah, it’s called ‘Anything but F1’,” she smiled. “Your topic is Y/n Y/l/n’s career,” she chuckled. 

Oscar smiled. “This is going to be easy.”

“Will she kill you if you don’t get full marks?” she laughed. 

Oscar pondered. “Probably not?” 

“Alright then. Ready? Pressure is on.”

He nodded. 

“What was Y/l/n’s first role on Broadway?” 

“Matilda,” he nodded. Y/n Y/l/n, his girlfriend, you, also an EGOT winning actor, the youngest there’s ever been. 

“Correct! How old was Y/l/n when she made her Broadway debut?”

“Well, she was 8 in Matilda on the West End and did 2 years of that, so 10?” he answered. 

“Correct! How old was she when she played Sally Bowles, making her the youngest to have ever played her on a Broadway stage?” 

“She was 17.”

“Correct! How old was she when she got her first Tony?” 

“11 years old.”

“Correct!” she smiled. “What Disney princess did she play?” 

“Huh?” he questioned, not knowing that you’d voiced a disney princess. “She’s voiced a Disney princess?” 

She nodded. 

“In a Disney film?”

She nodded again. “Think about it.”

“Does she sing in it?”

“The princess does sing,” she explained. “But Y/l/n did also write a song for it.”

Oscar was stumped. “Can I come back to it?” 

“Sure,” she shrugged, moving on to the next one. “What was her first feature film?”

“Lés Mis,” he answered. “She played Cosette.”

“Correct! What happened at the 2013 oscars?”

Oscar chuckled. “I think Jennifer Lawrence fell over and took Y/n with her?”

“Correct! What is her most streamed song?”

“Does this include recordings she was a part of or just her solo career or the band too?”

“One of those is fine, but if you can give me an answer for all though, we’ll give you an extra point.”

“So,” he started explaining. “Y/n’s most streamed solo single is probably American Teenager, her most streamed band single is probably BABY SAID, and her most streamed cast recording was probably Wicked, or Hadestown.”

“Correct, and it is Wicked.”

As he explained his answers, his trainer and others in the room started to laugh. He knew everything about you. He was so down-bad it was almost embarrassing, but they understood it anyway. You’d been together since you were 14, you were 23 now. You get to know a lot about a person in 9 years, especially from teenage years to being a young adult. 

“What record did she break by winning an Oscar in 2018?” 

Oscar smirked and winked at the camera. “She’s the youngest person ever to gain an EGOT.”

“What school did she teach at in her early years?”

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “How old was she?”

“Ages 8-12, she taught here on and off, and not many people know about it since she didn’t go into that field of the arts.”

He groaned, trying desperately to think. “The Royal Ballet in London!” He exclaimed, finally remembering. 

“Correct! Next question, how many Tony awards does she have?”

“Oh shit they’re on the mantel at home…” he muttered to himself, trying to count them in his head. “5?”

“Correct. Who has more trophies?”

Oscar chuckled. “I have more trophies, but she has more awards.”

“Alright, how many Emmys does she have?”

“1, which she won this year for her role in the Bear.” 

“Correct, how many Broadway or West End shows has she been a part of? You get a bonus point for naming them all.”

“Oh alright, so Matilda, Annie, Into the Woods, Hamilton, Heathers, Spring Awakening, Mamma Mia!, Moulin Rouge!, Cabaret, Six, Parade, Hadestown, Chicago, Wicked, and right now she’s doing Lés Miserables for the first time on a stage,” he explained. “So that was… 15?”

“Just one more?” she hinted. 

Oscar’s face fell. “What? What else has she done?” he asked out loud. “I said Wicked?”

She nodded. 

“Did I say Mamma Mia!?” 

She nodded. 

“Did I say Phantom of the Opera?”

“No, you didn't! Congratulations, bonus point awarded. What has she said is her dream role?”

He took a deep breath. “It’s going to be really bad if I get this wrong, isn’t it? Alright, so, she has always wanted to play Ms. Honey in Matilda,” he watched as the interviewer shook her head. “Shit, alright. Any hints?”

“She said it would be the only way to get her back into a specific show,” she hinted. 

“Oh! Emcee!” he cheered. “God, how could I forget that?”

“Well done! Alright, one final question, what song did she sing at the 2023 grammy awards, where she debuted her first single after ‘LISTEN’, her band, went on hiatus?”

He smirked. He was there for that performance. He was sitting in the crowd as you sang. He got to take you home and congratulate you. He got to be the proud boyfriend all night. He loved it. It was one of his most fond memories. “She sang ‘That’s So True’. I was there.”

“The infamous kiss picture,” she winked at him. He nodded, a smug smile on his face. “So, going back to the other question, what Disney princess did Y/l/n play?” 

“Oh shit yeah, it was animated, yeah?”  

“Not necessarily,” she hinted. 

“Ariel!” he exclaimed. “Ariel, of course!”

She chuckled. “Congratulations, you know the most about Y/n Y/l/n’s career out of anyone I’ve ever met.”

“One would hope,” he chuckled.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[koyagifs]

𝓹.𝓼 𝓲 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾

pairing: san x reader au: idol | best friends to lovers | genre: fluff word count: 3.4 k synopsis: throughout the years you and san sent letters to each other even with his busy lifestyle as an idol. The love letters he never knew until you handed him the last one in person. warning(s): fluff, sweet tooth rotting - literally will get cavities.

October 24, 2018

dear sannie, you've done it!! you debuted!! i couldn't have be a much prouder friend. You looked amazing on stage and in your music videos. Seeing you live your dream brings me much joy. College just started for me and im already nervous to not have you here beside me. You won't forget me right?

love, yn

San smiled at the letter, his heart swelling with warmth. He could almost hear your voice as he read it, the familiar way you always cheered him on, even from afar. Around him, his members noticed the soft expression on his face and couldn’t resist teasing him.

"What’s got you all mushy, San?" Wooyoung smirked, leaning over to peek at the letter.

San quickly folded it, keeping it close to his chest. "Just an old letter from a friend," he said, but the fondness in his tone gave him away.

"A friend, huh?" Yunho chimed in, raising an eyebrow. "You’ve been smiling at that thing for ten minutes. Must be a pretty special friend."

"She is," San admitted softly, his gaze lingering on the folded paper.

The teasing continued, but San didn’t mind. To him, that letter was more than just words on a page—it was a reminder of you, the person who had always believed in him, no matter how far apart you were. And in that moment, he felt closer to you than ever.

January 31, 2021

Dear Sannie, Congratulations on your first Bonsang! my roommate and i watched it, she's a huge fan by the way. I couldn't help but cry ha - i can already hear you call me a big baby. I can't help it. You and your members deserved the win and so much more. I hope you're doing well. Your parents had invited me over for spring break saying you'll be there. I hope i get to see you there ~

love, yn

San felt guilt creep on him when he read your letter. He had told his parents that he would try to make it for break but unknowningly had such a busy schedule (more like year) .

Spring break had come and gone, and he hadn't been able to make it home like he had promised. Promotions, rehearsals, and countless other commitments had eaten up his time. His parents had told him you were looking forward to seeing him, but it hurt him to know he had let you down, even though you likely understood.

He thought back to the letter you had sent him—your words still fresh in his mind. Your gentle, supportive tone had made him feel even worse. He knew you weren’t upset or angry, but that didn’t stop the guilt from gnawing at him. Your understanding was something he cherished, but it also made him feel even more responsible for not being able to fulfill his promise.

July 9, 2021

Dear Sannie, i saw your company confirm that you have covid. I hope you're well and getting plenty of rest. I'm worried about you, thankfully your mom is very assuring. It's been so long since we last seen each other and i think im officially have choi san withdrawals. haha only took like 4 years to have withdrawals from your annoying ass. in all seriousness, i truly do miss you san. i graduate soon, you'll be there right?

love, yn

San’s heart sank as he read your letter. The warmth of your words mixed with the concern you expressed about his health made him feel both comforted and guilty. He knew you must’ve been worried when the news of his diagnosis broke, and the last thing he wanted was to cause you any additional stress. He had been keeping a low profile, resting as much as he could, but your message reminded him of how much he missed you and how badly he wanted to be there for you.

He leaned back on his bed, sighing softly. It had been too long, and your humor—your way of bringing light to everything—was something he dearly missed. He smiled at the thought of your "Choi San withdrawals" comment, shaking his head at how much you loved to tease him. Even now, you were still able to make him laugh, even when he was feeling miserable.

July 6,2024

Your fingers were clenched around the straps of your tote bag, the weight of the letters inside feeling oddly heavy, despite being just paper. The photocard of San and Sandeoki tucked inside the bag was a small comfort, but the true contents were the letters you had written to him over the years—letters you never had the courage to send.

You had written them during moments of missing him, of wondering when you'd see him again, or just to express things you never got to say in person. Some were long, filled with stories and updates, others short and simple. But all of them were filled with love, concern, and a longing that had never truly gone away, no matter how much time passed.

Today, you decided, would be the day to let him read them. Maybe it was the fact that you had so much PTO saved up, or maybe it was just the need to reconnect after all this time. But either way, you were determined to surprise him.

You couldn’t believe it. You were in the front row, the best seat you could ever have hoped for, and the adrenaline was almost too much to handle. The energy from the crowd was contagious, buzzing through the air like electricity. The excitement around you was palpable, fans chattering and eagerly looking for their favorite idols. You felt like you were in a dream, surrounded by the cheers and anticipation.

And then, it happened.

The moment you’d been waiting for was finally here. You could feel the air in the room shift as the members made their way down the stage, waving and smiling at everyone, their energy infecting the crowd. The cheers grew louder, but amidst it all, your heart was beating so fast you thought it might explode. The closer they got, the more real the situation felt—and the more nervous you became.

Your row was the first to head up for their interaction, and now you found yourself standing up, unsure if your legs would support you. You clutched your hands together, trying to calm your nerves, but your heart was thudding in your chest. You had prepared yourself for this moment, but now that it was here, everything felt like a blur.

As you walked towards them, your gaze instinctively found him—San. He was closer now, his smile warm and genuine as he interacted with the fans ahead of you. You could hardly believe it. The boy who had been such a big part of your life, now right in front of you. Your mind was racing, and everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The cheering around you, the music playing softly in the background—it all faded as you focused solely on him.

Mingi’s playful tone made you laugh, and your nerves eased a little as you settled into the moment. You had always enjoyed Mingi’s energy, his teasing and carefree nature making interactions like this feel lighthearted. As he signed your album, his eyes twinkled with mischief.

"Yn, you said... hm..." he hummed thoughtfully, looking up at you. "Tell San that he's a lucky guy~" he continued with a wink, his teasing tone drawing out a laugh from you.

You couldn’t help but smile, a small blush creeping up your cheeks at his comment.

he playful banter made the nervous energy you had carried with you melt away, replaced by the warmth of his friendly presence.

Mingi handed your album back to you, his signature neatly added to the cover, before squeezing your hand lightly. "I’m glad you’re here, Yn. It’s been too long. Let’s make sure you get to see San properly later. He’s been talking about you a lot lately, actually."

Your heart skipped at his words, a mix of curiosity and excitement stirring within you. Mingi’s smile softened for a moment before he winked again, clearly enjoying the way he was getting to you.

"Don’t keep him waiting, hm?" he added teasingly.

Hongjoong’s eyes widened the moment he saw you, and the surprise was written all over his face. He stopped mid-signature, staring at you for a moment as if trying to process what was happening. It was clear that he recognized you, and that realization made the moment feel even more surreal.

"So, you're the long lost bestie, hm?" Hongjoong teased, a playful smirk forming on his lips. His tone was light, but there was a warmth in his eyes, like he was genuinely happy to see you again.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction, the familiarity of his teasing making you feel right at home. "You can say that," you replied with a grin, shaking your head at how easily he had caught onto the situation. You hadn’t expected him to recognize you so quickly, but Hongjoong was always the type to notice the little details.

His eyes softened as he leaned forward slightly, clearly amused but also curious. "San’s been talking about you a lot, you know," he added with a wink, almost as if it was a secret he was letting slip.

Hongjoong’s smile widened at your words, and there was a mischievous glint in his eyes as he waved a staff member over. "I’m sure it’s all good things," he said with a wink, clearly enjoying the playful dynamic between the two of you. His attention shifted momentarily as he muttered something to the staff member, gesturing toward you.

You couldn’t help but feel a little curious, but you smiled at Hongjoong’s antics, knowing it was all in good fun. "It’s really nice to meet you too, Hongjoong oppa," you said, giving him a bright smile before starting to move down the line.

As you moved toward San, your heart raced even faster, the excitement mixing with a fresh wave of nerves. It had been years since you last saw him, and now, here you were—standing right in front of him again. It felt surreal, as if time had frozen for a moment, and you were about to close the distance that had stretched between the two of you.

San’s eyes met yours, and there was a flicker of recognition before his lips curled into that familiar, warm smile that made your heart skip a beat. You could see the slight surprise in his eyes, followed by a softness that only he could give you.

He took your album gently, his fingers brushing against yours as he began to sign it. The way he looked at you, his focus entirely on you, made everything feel more personal than you ever expected. His smile deepened, almost like he was processing the moment, and you could feel the weight of all those years apart—yet somehow, it felt like no time had passed at all.

"Yn…" San said your name softly, almost as if he was savoring it, and the way his voice carried your name sent a rush of warmth through you. "I didn’t expect to see you here."

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, trying to ease the nerves that had gripped you. "I didn’t expect to be here either," you replied, your voice quieter than you intended, but filled with the same affection that had always been there.

San paused for a moment, looking up at you with a tender expression. It was like he wanted to say something more, but the words got caught somewhere between his heart and his lips. Instead, he offered a quiet chuckle, almost as if he was trying to find his footing in this long-awaited moment.

"I’ve missed you," he finally said, his voice low but sincere. The words made your heart flutter, and you couldn't help but smile, your nerves slowly melting away as you soaked in the familiar presence of the person who had been such a big part of your life.

"I’ve missed you too, San," you whispered, feeling the warmth of his words wrap around you. "It’s really good to see you again."

As you handed San the stack of letters, you felt a quiet sense of relief. These were the letters you had never sent, all the thoughts and feelings you had stored over the years—now in his hands, where they belonged. He took them gently, looking up at you with a mixture of surprise and appreciation, his smile widening as he held them close.

Before any staff member could take the letters from him, San playfully shooed them away, his gaze never leaving you. "These are mine now," he said with a soft laugh, his voice warm and full of affection. You could tell he wasn’t going to let them go that easily.

Then, his eyes softened, scanning you as if noticing the smallest details for the first time in a long while. "You look amazing, by the way," he added, his tone sincere and appreciative. The compliment caught you off guard, but it made you smile—there was something about hearing it from him that made it feel even more special.

"Thanks, San," you replied, your heart fluttering a little. "You don’t look too bad yourself," you teased, trying to ease the tension with a playful tone, though the warmth you felt inside was undeniable.

He chuckled, his expression lighting up with amusement. "I’ll take that as a compliment," he said, his eyes sparkling. There was an easy, natural chemistry between the two of you, and it felt as though the years apart had only made this moment even more meaningful.

San’s fingers tightened slightly around the letters, a silent promise that he would read every single one. He met your gaze again, his eyes intense yet gentle. "I’m really glad you’re here, Yn," he said softly. "I missed you more than I realized."

You swallowed the lump in your throat, nodding as a wave of emotion washed over you. The moment felt so intimate, so real, that it was hard to believe everything you had gone through had led to this—this moment with him, right in front of you, ready to pick up where you left off.

You weren't completely shocked when a staff member pulled you aside when you headed to the bathroom. They took you to the back where you see San's manager who looked at you with a smile.

You were a little taken aback, but the manager’s warm smile quickly put you at ease. You nodded, a bit of nervousness still hanging in the air, and bowed respectfully as you replied, “Yes, I’m Yn. It’s really nice to meet you.”

His smile widened even further, the kind of friendly, reassuring smile that made you feel comfortable. “Great!” he said, his voice light and friendly. “Hongjoong wanted to make sure you get to spend the proper time with San after the fan greeting. You don’t have anything planned afterwards, right?”

The question threw you off for a second, but the surprise quickly melted into something more like anticipation. You hadn’t expected this kind of opportunity, and you found yourself almost speechless for a moment.

“No, nothing planned,” you replied quickly, shaking your head. “I don’t have anywhere to be after this.”

The manager’s expression softened, clearly pleased. “Perfect. I’ll make sure San knows. He’ll be happy to see you again, I’m sure.”

You could barely contain the butterflies in your stomach as you processed what he had said. You were being given a chance to spend some actual time with San after the fan greeting—something you never thought would happen. It felt like the universe had suddenly conspired to bring everything full circle.

San's excitement was palpable as he made his way backstage, his usual easygoing demeanor replaced by an eager energy. He had been looking forward to spending time with you since the moment he saw you during the fan greeting, and now that it was finally happening, his anticipation was nearly overwhelming.

As he hurried through the corridors, he spotted a seat near where the members had been resting—empty. His heart skipped a beat, and he immediately knew you must be somewhere nearby. His footsteps quickened, a smile tugging at his lips as he made his way toward the back.

He spotted the manager first, and without missing a beat, San called out, “Where is she?”

The manager’s face lit up at the sight of San, clearly enjoying the interaction. “She’s just down the hall, waiting for you.”

San’s grin grew even wider, and he didn’t waste a second. He rushed down the hallway, the anticipation rising with every step, until he finally rounded the corner and saw you. There you were, standing by the door, looking just as excited and nervous as he felt. Your presence made everything feel more real, and his heart swelled with happiness.

When you saw him, a smile broke out across your face, and before you could say anything, San was already there, walking towards you with long strides. The moment you locked eyes, the world around you seemed to fade. The years apart, the distance—none of it mattered now.

"Yn," San said your name softly, his voice full of warmth and something else, something deeper. He was standing right in front of you now, his eyes searching yours, as though taking in every little detail.

The moment San’s arms wrapped around you, everything felt like it clicked back into place. All the years apart, the distance, the longing—it all flooded back in an overwhelming rush. You could feel the tension in your body release as he pulled you in close, his warmth wrapping around you like a familiar blanket.

Tears started to blur your vision as they rolled down your cheeks, unexpected yet somehow inevitable. The years you had spent missing him, the silent ache in your chest, and the excitement of finally being here, in his arms—it was all too much. You let the emotions flow freely, no longer holding back.

San’s grip tightened around you, his hands soothingly rubbing your back, as if grounding you in the moment. His voice was soft, filled with concern, but laced with the same warmth that had always made you feel safe. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he whispered, his voice just for you. “I’m here now. I’m right here.”

His words, so familiar yet so comforting, broke something inside you, and you cried even harder. It was the release you didn’t know you needed, the culmination of everything you had kept bottled up for years.

San pulled back slightly, just enough to look at your face, his expression filled with a mix of understanding and tenderness. His thumb gently wiped the tears from your cheeks, his gaze softening as he smiled down at you. “I’m so sorry it took this long,” he whispered.

You sniffed, still overwhelmed by everything but grateful beyond words. “Me too,” you whispered back, your voice barely audible. “I didn’t know how much I needed this until now.”

San’s hands cupped your face, his forehead resting gently against yours. “You don’t ever have to wait this long again,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll make sure of that.”

San’s breath hitched slightly as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His heart raced as you gently pressed your lips to his, the kiss tender and full of unspoken feelings. The moment felt like it was suspended in time, both of you lost in the shared connection that had been years in the making.

The soft warmth of his lips against yours was everything you had been yearning for during the long time apart. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a promise, a shared understanding of all the moments that led up to this one. You could feel the way his hands instinctively tightened around you, pulling you even closer, as if he never wanted to let you go again.

The kiss deepened, slow and careful, as if both of you were savoring the reunion. Every little touch, every breath, felt like the culmination of everything you had missed and everything you were about to rediscover together.

When you finally pulled away, you both lingered, foreheads resting against each other, breathing heavily, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions. San’s hands remained on your face, his thumbs brushing gently against your skin as he looked at you with such softness in his eyes.

" promise?"

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. “I promise.”

You smiled, a sense of peace washing over you, knowing that this time, you didn’t have to wait any longer.

[verstappensrealwife]

His Lucky Charm - Max Verstappen x reader

[max verstappen masterlist / f1 masterlist]

ʚɞ in which... charles doesn't love her back... luckily max has always loved her. ʚɞ fluff, smut, angst ⋆⭒˚.⋆ 2900 words ʚɞ warnings: partial Charles x Reader but never together, smut (max x reader), swearing, reader is on “birth control”

-୨♡୧-

2015

(age: 15)

You formed your little crush on Charles when you were 15, your parents and his own hosting a dinner to celebrate something or other. You didn't know. But what you did know was that Charles was 18, and beautiful. He had accidentally bumped into you when you were walking into the kitchen. "Oh sorry Y/N." He said, without thought, and then shuffling past you, while you stood still, bright red.

                    Eventually you came to your senses and carried on through the kitchen, getting the drink you needed so desperately now.

You sipped on the icy-cold water through a straw as Charles came back into the kitchen. He smiled at you, saying nothing more. You smiled back dopily, watching him closely.

"What do you think?" He said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"Huh- what?"

"The shirt," He gestured to the Van Amersfoort Racing shirt, smiling proudly at his accomplishment.

"Really good," You smiled, getting a little closer, your attempt at flirting. He backed up slightly, walking into the door of the fridge.

"Oh- erm-," He stuttered, not wanting to upset you by rejecting you, but finding the outcome of you touching him worse. "You- Sorry..." He said quietly, "You're just too young."

You nodded, taking a few steps back, further than where you had started. You threw the rest of the water into the sink and placed the glass beside it before mumbling a quick apology and going to sit with yours, and his, family.

-

2017

(age: 17)

Charles was now in F2, your crush had only developed more. But you hadn't done anything about it. Waiting till you believed you weren't too young. And now you thought you were. You'd grown in a few particular places, finished secondary school and now getting your general Baccalaureate in Psychology.

              You were drunk, proclaiming sobriety, at a party with best friend, Arthur. He had found struggle in trying to reason with you and get you to drink water, so never mind even attempting to charter you home. His only resort was to call Charles. He wouldn't tell your parents- who in their right mind would- and he knew you'd listen to Charles.

When Charles walked in you cheered loudly, throwing yourself at his arms, he held most of your body weight up. "You smell nice," You slurred with your face on his chest. He thanked you quietly.

                    "Ready to go home, Y/N/N?" He asked you, watching as your eyes scanned his face quickly. Arthur was no where to be seen now. In fact no one was. It was just you and Charles, alone in the bathroom he had found you in doing god knows what drugs off the sink. "What have you been doing?" He asked innocently.

"nothing..." You reply sheepishly. You smiled dopily. The same smile you did two years ago. He sensed what would happen next and managed to sit you down on-top of the toilet-seat.

"You're still too young for me..." He said, not meaning to embarrass you. But you still went bright red. Tears welled in your eyes. "I'm sorry... let's go huh?"

You nodded. Following him slowly through the party.

-

2018

(age: 18th bday)

You were celebrating your 18th birthday. Finally. You waited all night for Charles however. You still enjoyed the party, and the fun that came with it. And your 'first ever drink' as your parents thought.

    But you wanted him there. Now you were 18, maybe you were old enough for him. Maybe he'd like you back. Maybe he'd...

He'd walked in with another girl. She was beautiful. Black hair, green eyes, tall, a gorgeous dress over her body that was equally perfect.

You wanted to crumble and die.

"Happy birthday!" He smiled, handing you a gift bag. You smiled, ignoring the ache in your heart as she smiled at you. You couldn't blame her. You weren't mad. You were just heart broken.

You pried open the bag and saw a Ferrari shirt. You frowned, confused. Pulling it out and then dropping the bag, you unfolded it and saw his name, and his number on it. "Charles Leclerc 16".

"Oh- my god!" You yelled, "You did it Charles!" You screamed happily. Even if you were completely in love with him, he was still first and foremost, your friend. And you knew how much he has wanted this. You flung yourself at him, hugging him tightly. "I'm so proud- what the fuck!" You pulled back, examining the shirt once more. You didn't spend this birthday dwelling on his girlfriend, but instead on the fact that he was now a signed Ferrari driver. Well, not until next season, but either way you were ecstatic for him.

-

2019

(age: 19)

You had moved countries to study for a while, you never did catch up with F1, despite your childhood friend being one of the top point scorers of the season so far.

             It was the end of August and the Belgian race was coming up soon. You were unaware of that until Arthur during your weekly phone call had brought it up, and how he wishes you could come.

"I can..." You said.

"You can?!" he shouted.

"Yeah," You laughed, "Do you not remember? I finish my year out in like... a week."

"Come- PLEASE- oh my god please come Y/N, Charles will love to see you! And so will Maman!"

You nodded to the phone, "Okay... only if you pay Arthur," You joke, fully intending to pay for yourself. However when you got the confirmation emails for your tickets and flights you laughed loudly, all while on the call.

-

A few weeks later and you were scanning into the Spa circuit. Walking towards the Ferrari garage and seeing Arthur first. You ran and jumped on his back, scarring the life out of him, curse words flying out his mouth in his mother tongue. You dropped off his back and he spun around, quickly hugging you.

"You're here!" He cried, Charles walking over to see what all the shouting was about. He could only see Arthur's back.

"What are you yelling abou- Oh!" He paused, seeing you. "Y/N!" He smiled, opening his arms for you to run into. You smiled when he kissed your forehead.

It was the day before the race, and all drivers were out, doing track walks, or going to see the other drivers.

"What are you doing here i thought you were studying in... wherever."

"I finished early!" You smiled proudly, he looked at you with a look of adoration of how smart you truly were. You noticed his stare, and the way his jaw tensed.

From previous life experience- you knew that usually led to kissing. However when you looked down at his lips, he was quick to step back. "R-Right... too young." You whispered. Only he heard and he nodded.

-

You cheered loudly as Charles finished first!

When he came back to the garage, he hugged everyone m, leaving you last. He came over to you and smiled. "My good luck charm," He joked, since he hadn't won a single race til you got here.

-

A week later you were in Italy, on the Monza track, cheering Charles as he took the same position again. He now thoroughly believed you were his good luck charm. Even proclaiming so in his after-race interview.

"Question for Charles— What do you think has changed in your racing to make you win your last 2 races now?"

"My brothers friend- and my friend too of course- now that she's here I seem to only ever be winning. Not that I can complain, she is amazing..." He said, trailing off with a look in his eyes no one could place.

—

For some reason that made you all emotions of sad, happy, and angry.

You left that race early.

Walking into the hotel, into the lift, you heard a shout. Quickly you shoved your arm infront of the closing doors. Seeing Charles jump in after you.

"Hi," He said quietly, only the two of you in the lift.  You smiled back, saying nothing. "Why- uh- Why did you leave early?" He asked, genuinely confused.

"I- seriously?" You sighed. He nodded, "Because, Charles! Because you're telling me i'm too young, then boasting about how much you love me in interviews while still keeping up that 'too young' view of me. okay?! I liked you, i have done for so long! And you throw it in my face every single time. I'm sick of it Charles!" You exploded. He stood there like a deer in headlights, mouth open slightly. Shocked at your outburst.

"I thought you'd move on eventually - I- I am so sorry."

"Save it, Leclerc." You mumbled before the elevator stopped. "Don't worry anymore, I'll move on this time." You said before stepping out.

Once the elevator's door closed you let the tears flow. Walking to your room silently, until you turned the corner into a firm chest. The man stepped back quickly, profusely apologetic to you.

"Verstappen?" You said.

"Erm.. Yea- oh! Y/N?!" He said, he recognised you from his Karting days when you'd go to support Charles. And recently from cameras all panning to you when Charles had called you his 'lucky charm'.

"Are you okay? you look like you're crying."

"I'm fine- I just- Charles... is a dick."  You sighed. He laughed, agreeing without using words. You remembered your own words, 'move on'.

"Well- erm- i hope you both figure it out. You're a great couple." He said.

"Oh- No! We're not. No." you corrected him, "He never wanted me... i'm 'too young' apparently. But that's fine. I've  needed to move on for a while, just never had the opportunities, or the strength to really leave my feelings for Charles." You said. "Sorry- I don't know why I told you all of that,"

"It's fine- and if it helps, I think you're way too beautiful to be with Leclerc anyways." He said.

Was he flirting?!

"You really think that?" You asked quietly, he nodded silently. You took a breath, "I- thank you... Verstappen."

"Max..." He said, correcting you.

"Sorry- Max." You said, the more you looked at him the more you found him attractive. He was beautiful in-fact. Blonde hair, bright blue eyes, not to mention the firmness of his chest when you had barged into him.

He was watching you too, your soft lips and perfect body. A red- off the shoulder- summer dress flowing to your mid thighs.

"I- sorry if this is forward, do you wanna get a drink?" He asked, biting his lip and looking at you hopefully.

You nodded, "I'd love to," You giggled.

-

You both stumbled back to the hotel, it was almost 4am. You were drunk. He was drunk. You were both needy...

You went to your room, it was closer than his. He slammed your back into the door when as soon as he walked through the door. His lips were on your collar bone, neck, and finally lips.

"Fuck, Y/N, you- all of you- you're perfect." He whispered, his hands gripping your hips leaving finger-shaped bruises.

"I need you- Max- please fuck me."

He groaned heavily as his lips trailed from your neck to collar bones, sucking gently on the skin leaving love-marks along your skin. He quickly pulled the dress zip down, pulling the dress off of you and undoing the bra strap, letting it fall down with the flowing skirt of the dress. You reciprocated his actions by unbuttoning his shirt and trousers. You palmed his dick while it was still held in his boxers.

               He hoisted you up to wrap your legs around him, there, he carried you towards your bed, laying you gently on your back. He got on his knees infront of you, "Can I..." He asked, about to pull your underwear off. You nodded quickly. "Words?"

"Yes- Yes Max!" You cried. 

You groaned as his tongue first touched your clit. His tongue circling around before plunging his fingers inside your cunt. You moaned out louder. "Please- Mmmh~ Max!"

He pulled away before you could cum, climbing on top of you and ridding his boxers. "Condom...?" He asked. You shook your head.

"Birth control," You smile. He groaned at that, before gently pushing inside you. He was slow; at first. But he sped up quickly.

"That's a good girl," He whispered in your ear quietly, "So beautiful." He smacked his hips into yours, moaning softly with each thrust.

He pulled out and turned you over, lay on your stomach he continued his action, this time smacking and grabbing your ass. Leaving harsh red marks on the skin. His thrusts not sloppy, but perfectly in rhythm, each slap of skin like a song.

"M-Max," You moaned, "Wanna.." you said, unable to get a coherent sentence out.

"Do it then, schatje" He said, the pulsation of your orgasm tipping him over the edge, spilling himself inside of your warm pussy. He groaned and thrusted once more before halting and slowly pulling out.

"I- I'll go get you a towel," He said, before walking to your bathroom and taking the first towel he saw. He brought it back, "Are you okay?" He asked as he cleaned you gently.

You nodded silently and cuddled into the sheets once he was done. He helped you put on his shirt to sleep in buttoning the final button before he was about to pull his boxers on.

"Don't leave..." You muffled into the pillow. He looked at you softly. He smiled and got into the bed with you

"I couldn't... you're wearing my shirt anyway." He said quietly, you ignored him. Instead, wrapping your arms around his torso and gently resting your head on his chest. He held his hand on your waist. "Goodnight." He said quietly, you mumbled back in return and before you knew it you were both fast asleep.

-

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

"I know you're in there just answer the door!" Max heard a voice shout from outside the room. You had clearly heard too, thus resulting in you forcing your head further into Max's pec muscle. You pulled the sheets up above your head.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Max sighed, making you do the same. You wriggled out of the comfort of his arms and shuffled over to the door. Opening it to see Charles stood there. "Erm?" You mumbled confused.

"Listen- I'm sorry ab— what are you wearing...?" He mumbled, knowing you usually slept in actual pyjamas.

Cough, Cough! came from inside the room. Charles looked at you, then behind you. He couldn't fully see the bed from the door and tried to step in further.

"What are you doing?" You stressed, watching as he barged through the room.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" You heard him exclaim. You followed him in before remembering what- or rather whom- was in your bed.

Max smiled at the Monegasque, not fully understanding his issue. He understood to an extent, they did hate each other as kids and were rivals for a while. But it seemed he was more mad about the fact you slept with someone else. Not that it was Max, half naked, in your bed.

"What is he doing in your bed?" Charles asked you.

"Sleeping..." Max said, confused.

"Do not talk to me." Charles snapped at him. Max held his hands up in surrender and stayed silent. Charles looked at you. Wearing nothing but Max'a shirt from after the race yesterday.

"What does it matter, Charles?" You asked with a disappointed sigh. "You said you wanted nothing to do with me romantically. Sue me for moving on."

Charles stayed silent. You were right. And he was too late to even try and change your mind. He looked between the two of you. He wanted to argue but... what could he really argue here?

"Yeah- You're right... sorry." He mumbled. "I'll see you later, maybe?"

You nodded silently and he left, closing the door behind you.

Max was staring at you. You looked from the door back to him. "Hi," He said. You smiled and climbed back into the bed. He wrapped his arms around you again. "Are you okay?" He asked.

"I'm good," You smiled up at him.

"I know it's a little late now, but do you wanna go out on a proper date with me maybe?" He asked, shyly, with crimson cheeks and messy hair.

You smiled and nodded, "I'd love to, Max."

-

2019 (but later in the year)

(Age: 19)

Max cheered as he flew past the finish line. Pulling into first place he jumped out the car and pulled his helmet off, immediately running to find you. You were standing between Ferrari and Red-bull. He found you and immediately let go of the helmet and dragged you into a hug.

"My lucky charm now, all mine," He told you in your ear making you laugh. He pulled his head back and kissed you hard on the mouth. A teeth clashing, lip bruising, sort of kiss.

"You smell bad," You laughed softly, "but you are so welcome for helping you win."

He smiled, ignoring your first comment.

In post interviews he made clear that you were his lucky charm. And that no matter what you would always be just that.

-

2023:

November 26th

(age: 23)

Max had won the championship for his 3rd time in a row. He- as if ritual- immediately after winning in Abu Dhabi, rushed over to crush you in a hug. "I am so proud of you, baby." You said.

He looked at your face and kissed you. "My lucky charm since 2019." He smiled.

———

el fin.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Anyways like and subscribe for more content!!!!!!! 💋😡🫣😜😆

[aquamarine-oceanfront]

The Amazing Digital Circus is receiving a manga adaptation in CoroCoro!

Rough translation, from right to left:

Large text on right: "Where is the exit?" Smaller text on right: "The show everyone's talking about, with over 400 million views on YouTube!!" Large text on left: "The world-renowned dark comedy cartoon, fully adapted to comics!"

A few hours ago, the official Japanese TADC Twitter account revealed that a manga adaptation of the series would begin running in the December issue of CoroCoro Ichiban! (to be released on October 21st, 2024). It will also be published simultaneously in the online edition of Weekly CoroCoro Comic - despite the magazine's name, it will still be on a monthly schedule.

So what'll it be like? Well, while every magazine under the CoroCoro brand is generally targeted towards grade schoolers, CoroCoro Ichiban! in particular skews even younger, frequently featuring gag comedies. Furthermore, the author - known mononymously as "Sakura" (咲良) - has experience in that genre, having adapted Nintendo's ARMS into ARMS: Skillful Gag Fight! (ARMS スゴウデギャグファイト！) for the magazine between 2017 and 2018.

However, I'm reasonably confident this adaptation will retain the bleaker edges of the original series. Not only does the above promotional image explicitly call it a "dark comedy" (and further implies it'll be a faithful adaptation by using "完全," translated above as "full"), but this is the page they chose to release as a preview:

Rough translation, again:

(The bit above the logo just means "New series!") [Why is this girl running...?] Gotta hide, gotta hide, gotta hide,

(As a side note: I should mention that the above two images were both taken from the artist's later tweet about the manga, since they were higher quality. They're cropped a little more, but not enough to really infringe on their contents.)

Looking over the QRTs, both Japanese and English responses were equally surprised to learn about this. A couple of Japanese Twitter users were specifically bewildered that it was running in the especially child-focused Ichiban! - here's one as an example:

Very roughly translated:

"A Digital Circus series will run in Weekly CoroCoro Comic!" 👆 Huh?!?! Well, if it's in Weekly CoroCoro, I guess I'll check it out… "Also running in CoroCoro Ichiban! (mag for young children)!" 👆 HUH????!!!!???!!!????!!!!!!!!!?!

Finally, for completeness's sake, here's the last promotional image from the announcement:

[rosyblooom]

right person, wrong times | cl16

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader summary: a random day each year across 11 years, as they go from practically strangers, to more, to less, and again. (~4.3k) a/n: inspo from 'one day' !! been struggling with writer's block, so sorry in advance if it's rough lool

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

One day in 2018

Y/N glanced across the crowded room, picking out one familiar face amidst the sea of strangers: Pascale. Their families went way back, but with Y/N's parents splitting when she was just a toddler, she'd spent most of her life in Spain with her dad, Switzerland for boarding school, and rare trips to Monaco to visit her mum—hardly ever crossing paths with the Leclerc's.

But today was different. She found herself in Monaco attending a family gathering to finally meet Pascale's sons properly. She couldn't recall the last time she'd spoken to them, but Pascale had insisted today would be the day, especially since her recent move here.

Across the room, Charles stood, his posture slightly hunched as his mother whispered in his ear, urging him to check on Y/N. "Please go see how Y/N is doing. I'm not sure if she'll remember you, but just introduce yourself and keep her company for a while," Pascale pleaded, fixing him with a hopeful gaze. "Please."

"I don’t even know where she is or what she looks like."

"She's at the bar," Pascale replied with a smile. "She's the pretty one—you won't miss her."

"Very helpful," Charles chuckled, shaking his head before stepping back. "I'll make my way over now."

It didn't take long until he found himself at the bar. Surprisingly, his mother's brief description proved accurate, as Y/N stood out for her beauty—quite a departure from the faint memory he held of her.

Drawing closer, he flashed a warm smile and extended his hand in greeting. "Charles."

Y/N shot him a quick, assessing glance, her eyes flitting over his unruly hair and black attire, before meeting his gaze. "Not interested," she dismissed, her attention already wandering back to the room.

Chuckling at her abruptness, Charles shook his head. "No, no, I wasn't trying to... I'm not here to make a move, I wouldn't."

Y/N turned towards him, her curiosity piqued by his response. "Ouch," she teased, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes. "So you think I'm ugly, then?" Her lips curved slightly as she awaited his answer.

Heat crept up Charles’ neck, and though he couldn’t see himself, he could sense the warmth spreading across his face. With a nervous stammer, he began, “Wait, no! That’s not what I meant—What I’m trying to say is—”

“Relax,” Y/N interjected with a sympathetic smile. “I’m just kidding. Nice to see you again, Leclerc. It’s been a while, huh?”

Charles let out a long breath, his tension easing slightly. For a moment, he studied Y/N with a discerning gaze, as if attempting to unravel her mystery; she was undeniably peculiar, yet undeniably intriguing. “It has been a while,” he finally acknowledged, nodding slowly.

One day in 2019

This marked Y/N’s first ever Christmas market in Monaco. She had wanted to attend last year’s, but the winter season had always been her least favourite. This time last year, it was simply too cold for her—no matter what the news claimed, she was freezing. But today wasn’t half as bad. Sure, she was bundled up in about three sweaters under her hoodie, which she wore beneath her jacket, but well, you could say she was sensitive to weather.

“Y/N?” a voice suddenly erupted from behind her, pulling her attention away from the gigantic, decorated Christmas tree and towards Charles, who now stood before her, holding two steaming mugs.

Y/N narrowed her gaze, appearing lost in thought. “Sorry, do I know you?”

Charles shook his head and sighed, his breath forming a white cloud in the chilly air. “Right, of course. It’s been a year, so it makes sense for you not to remember me…”

“I'm just joking,” Y/N grinned, nudging him cautiously to avoid any spills. “You’re too easy.”

Charles’ mouth dropped open slightly, his eyes widening for a moment before he chuckled, “Okay, I’m not going to believe anything you say from now on.”

"Good idea," she nodded with a smile. Y/N's gaze then drifted down to the two mugs in his hands, and she inquired, "Am I right to assume that one of these is for me?"

A puzzled expression briefly crossed Charles' face, his brows furrowing slightly, prompting Y/N to gesture towards the cups.

As if suddenly remembering, he exclaimed, "Oh, right! I thought you might want something warm, and who doesn't like hot chocolate, right?" With that, he offered one of the drinks to her.

"I sure do." Y/N took the cup, cupping her cold hands around the hot glass, immediately feeling the stiffness melt away from her fingers. The hot chocolate wasn't nearly as scalding as she had anticipated—it was just right, and she savoured each sip, briefly closing her eyes in contentment. When she reopened them, she couldn't help but remark, "Sweet, just like you."

As if someone had turned on a gas stove, heat rushed to Charles' face, though this time he was fortunate; the weather was already giving him a rosy complexion due to the cold.

But Y/N still noticed, and she smiled. "Don't go getting soft on me now," she teased, bumping her elbow into his arm.

Without really thinking, Charles muttered, "You're not making it easy…" His words slipped out, and with their proximity, Y/N heard him loud and clear. Even though it wasn't the first time she'd heard a comment like that, the fact that it came from Charles sent a pleasant shiver down her spine.

"What was that?" Arching a brow, Y/N glanced up at him sideways, a playful glint in her eyes.

"Nothing… Do you want to get inside though? It’s a little too cold for me."

“It’s my first time here,” Y/N said, hooking her arm around his, ignoring the sudden tension in his muscles. “Don’t want to get lost,” she explained, glancing up at Charles, who didn’t object and instead simply nodded. “Right, yeah.”

“So? Lead the way then.”

“Alright, alright,” Charles obliged, skilfully manoeuvring through the crowd, with Y/N beside him.

One day in 2020

“Is this seat taken?” The question caused Y/N to freeze, her forkful of ratatouille dropping onto her plate. She swallowed the remaining food in her mouth and swiftly swept the napkin off her lap, dabbing the corners of her mouth until she was sure there were no traces left.

“Not at all,” she finally responded, turning towards the voice. “I should warn you though—” But the moment her eyes met the familiar pair of Charles’ blue ones, she stopped mid-sentence.

For a brief moment, it seemed as if the rest of the table didn’t exist, as neither of them spoke, both too captivated by the other's presence. With a crooked smile, Charles broke the silence. “You were going to warn me about something?”

Y/N couldn't quite explain why, but the sight of his smile immediately lifted the corners of her mouth, while her stomach somersaulted with a flurry of emotions. She pushed aside the sensation and simply laughed, resting her elbows on the table and burying her face in her hands. “Just forget it,” she mumbled against her palms, loud enough for Charles to hear.

A gentle breeze wafted over her, carrying a familiar, clean scent of laundry detergent that Y/N had come to associate with Charles. Somehow, it immediately calmed the strange fluttering in her stomach, prompting her to lift her gaze again.

“Hi,” she finally greeted with a smile, reaching for the glass of wine on the table.

“Hey,” Charles nodded, settling back in his seat.

They lingered like this for a while, Y/N's gaze fixed on the side of his face while Charles casually surveyed the room, exchanging greetings with a few acquaintances. Squinting slightly, Y/N blurted out, “Are you stalking me?”

Charles burst into laughter, quickly composing himself and leaning towards her. “In my family's house?” he countered.

Y/N nodded in satisfaction as she took a sip from her drink. “Excellent point,” she conceded.

Gently settling the glass down, she redirected her attention to the untouched forkful of food and remarked, “Can I just say, you have to try this, it's so good.” She gestured towards her barely touched plate. “I don’t know what Pascale put in this, but this is the best ratatouille I’ve ever tasted.” Y/N grabbed her fork and extended it towards him, but noticing Charles freeze, she quickly swallowed her words, saying, “Oh, sorry, I know some people are a little iffy with sharing—”

Before she could retract the fork, Charles' warm hands suddenly enclosed around hers, halting her movement as he guided the fork towards his mouth, taking a bite, and nodding at her with a smile. “It’s been my favourite since I was a little kid.”

Y/N whispered softly, her voice barely above a murmur, yet close enough for them to hear each other perfectly. "A man of taste huh?" Her gaze drifted from his eyes down to where his hand still lingered around hers, now tracing soft circles across her skin.

Charles followed Y/N’s line of sight, quickly clearing his throat when he realised what he was doing. He withdrew his hand, causing both to avert their eyes, suddenly finding interest in everything but each other.

The last thing Charles wanted was to make Y/N uncomfortable, and as for her, she simply didn’t want to blow things out of proportion—see something where there was nothing. For all she knew, Charles was like that with all his friends.

A few moments passed, filled with surrounding chatter, before they both spoke up at the same time.

“Do you want to go—"

“So, do you have any other—"

Laughter erupted between them before Y/N smirked, “Because I’m a lady, you first.”

“How kind of you,” he chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Are you free next week? We could maybe grab lunch or something.” Before she could respond, he added, scratching his neck, “I would offer to cook, but unfortunately, cooking skills don’t get genetically passed down.”

Ignoring the beat Y/N was sure her heart had just skipped, she simply smiled and leaned forward, chin propped on her hand. “You mean a date?”

“Only if that’s what you want.”

Her rapid nods confirmed everything before her words even formed. However, just as Charles’ lips broke into a broad grin, Y/N’s expression suddenly fell as she remembered, “Wait, no, I can’t. I’m travelling to Spain tomorrow to visit my dad. And then after that, I’ll start my internship in New York City.”

Charles sank back into his chair, though his face didn’t betray the disappointment he felt. “I see,” he sighed.

“Rain check?” Y/N asked. She wanted a date with him, to see if they’d hit it off on that level. The only problem was the timing, but she knew her feelings didn’t fade quickly. If they had to wait, then so be it. She was ready to do so. Laughing, Y/N added, “Seriously, I still want that date.”

“Rain check it is,” Charles nodded. “Congrats on the internship though, that’s amazing. Maybe I can come visit, and we’ll—”

The sudden clanking of glass interrupted him, causing both to turn their attention to the woman standing at the end of the long table.

Without breaking eye contact with the woman, Y/N leaned in closer to Charles, her lips accidentally grazing his as his gaze fleetingly dropped to her lips before he refocused on the woman, who had now dropped her glass onto the table.

Y/N whispered into his ear, to which Charles simply nodded, suppressing the sudden surge of desire coursing through his veins.

One day in 2021

Y/N walked through the Paddock with a sense of detachment, like a deer caught in headlights. The US Grand Prix had come to an end, and Max Verstappen had emerged as the victor. It wasn’t exactly what she had hoped for, but she didn’t feel any strong emotions about it. What occupied her thoughts, however, was the meeting spot she had arranged with Carlos.

Pausing in her step, she pulled out her phone, deciding to cut straight to the chase and call him directly. The phone rang for what seemed like an eternity until the sound was abruptly cut off by a long beep, indicating his automated voicemail.

“Not even personalised,” she scoffed, hanging up, tossing her phone into her bag, and continuing, resigned to the idea of either wandering aimlessly forever or eventually finding Carlos.

However, she didn’t get far before colliding with someone. She stumbled backward a bit before regaining her balance, and as she looked up, her eyes widened in recognition.

Charles stood opposite her, his expression shifting from shock to a warm smile, though his eyebrows remained slightly furrowed. “Hi,” he breathed, the warmth of his breath reaching and spreading across Y/N’s face. “You’re… here.”

Y/N’s gaze swept over his tousled hair, a few strands sticking to his forehead adorned with tiny beads of sweat, some trailing down the sides of his slightly flushed face. “You’re sweaty. Very sweaty,” she blurted out, immediately regretting her awkward observation. But it had been a year since their last exchange, so it was understandable that things felt a bit awkward between them.

A few chuckles escaped Charles, immediately bringing a smile to Y/N’s face. “Thanks, I didn’t notice."

She exhaled a laugh, and then Charles added, “Thank you for coming, I really appreciate it.” Shielding his eyes from the harsh glare of the sun with his hand, he squinted at her. “Can I ask though, was this meant to be a surprise or something?”

“Ah, Charles, you’ve met my friend, Y/N,” Carlos interrupted from behind as he came to a stop beside her.

Y/N smiled awkwardly. “Uhm... Carlos actually invited me, so that's why I'm here."

“You two know each other?” Charles inquired, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

“My dad lives in Spain, remember?” Y/N reminded him, shrugging. “Our families are pretty close.”

“Right…” Charles nodded, though he couldn’t shake off the slight hint of disbelief in his voice. After all, he knew Carlos was dating someone already, so he wasn’t sure why he felt that way. And as for Y/N, she was free to do as she pleased. After all, that date they had talked about last year never even happened. They had no history, no reason for him to feel jealous.

But he did anyway.

Wanting to diffuse the sudden tension settling between the three of them, Y/N exclaimed, “But it’s good to see you again. And you did really well. Congrats on P4, seriously.”

Charles smiled, and for the first time today, it was genuine. He wasn’t entirely satisfied with P4; he had wanted a podium finish and had come close to it. But for some reason, if she was happy, so was he.

“Thanks—” His smile faltered when an arm snaked around his torso, his girlfriend Amélie taking her place beside him and planting a quick kiss on his cheek. Without wasting a second, his gaze shifted to Y/N, just in time to catch the way her eyes widened before she swallowed, her expression now impassive.

Shock and confusion swirled through Y/N’s body. She hadn’t expected Charles to have a girlfriend, so when she felt her heart crack slightly, it made sense. But she wasn’t going to show it—at least, not purposely she wasn’t.

Charles furrowed his brows as he regarded the girl standing in front of him. A pang of guilt nagged at him, though he couldn’t quite pinpoint why: they were never anything more than friends. And judging by the way neither of them had kept up with one another, you could barely even call it that.

Maybe they were more like strangers with a couple of good memories and unfulfilled promises?

“You alright, mate?” asked Carlos, pulling Charles out of his reverie.

Clearing his throat, Charles replied, “Yeah, yeah... Uhm Amélie, this is Y/N, my… friend.” The word came out almost as a question, but he pressed on. “Y/N, meet Amélie, my girlfriend.”

Charles wasn’t sure what he expected, but Y/N’s cheerfulness was definitely not it. “Hey,” she smiled and waved.

Slowly, tensions began to dissipate as all four of them became engrossed in conversation—though in reality, it was more like three. Y/N found herself too preoccupied with the realisation that Charles had a girlfriend now. It was a simple fact, yet it carried a weight: it meant he hadn't spent the year turning down people left and right, like she had, in hopes of a maybe.

One day in 2022

"Y/N, thank God you’re here!" Amélie's voice echoed the moment Y/N stepped into the living room, causing her to freeze in her tracks. "Uh, hey?" she replied, her eyes scanning the partly decorated room before settling on Charles, who sent her a small wave.

She raised her brows and forced a smile, though it faltered quickly—she and Charles had grown apart. Truthfully, Y/N had contemplated not showing up today; faking an illness or something and making sure to stay at home for a few days—Monaco was too small to risk being accidentally spotted.

But she came.

She came because Charles called.

Two days ago, he had called her in the middle of the night, asking if she was planning to fake being sick to avoid seeing him. And he was right—exactly what Y/N had been contemplating. So, when her first phone call with Charles in two years challenged the very idea in her mind that they had grown apart, it confused her. After all, she was sure she was a blank page now, yet he still seemed to be able to read her.

Snapping out of her daze, Y/N watched as Amélie paced erratically, her brows furrowing with every step. "What's going on with her?" Y/N asked, turning to Charles for an explanation.

He chuckled, approaching her. "It's the cake," he explained. "Amélie ordered it, but now it needs to be picked up sooner than planned because they're closing earlier than usual for some reason. So, now we have a problem, obviously."

"Why don't you just go pick it up?" Y/N leaned into him, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes still fixed on Amélie, who was now engaged in a fervent phone call.

"Apparently, I'm too clumsy."

"You are."

Charles chuckled, but his laughter was cut short when Amélie suddenly gasped, her eyes darting between Y/N and him as she rushed towards them. “Okay, guys, everyone will be here soon. If I stay and finish all this off, you two can quickly go collect the cake. So, if one person drives and the other holds it really tightly, that should work, right?”

“Sounds good,” Y/N chimed in.

“I agree,” Charles added.

“Alright,” Amélie beckoned them out of the living room and towards the front door. “Go on.”

“I love you,” Amélie said, leaning in for a kiss. But as she moved closer, Charles instinctively turned his head, causing her lips to land on his cheek instead of his mouth. His gaze had shifted to Y/N, who stood in the front yard, seemingly fixated on the grass.

“Yeah... love you,” he muttered absentmindedly, his attention still captivated by the girl just a few feet away from him.

Normally, Charles had no issue displaying affection for his girlfriend in front of others, but Y/N made it difficult. Whenever she was around—whether at family gatherings, parties, or Grand Prix events—his eyes always seemed to gravitate towards her.

“Please, don’t take too long!” Amélie shouted as the door slammed shut.

Amidst the occasional chirping of birds, a palpable silence settled between them. Y/N stared into the distance, while Charles observed her from the corner of his eye, noticing subtle changes since their last encounter. Her hair, for instance, was slightly shorter—a minor detail, yet one he couldn't help but notice.

With a loud clap, Charles gestured towards his car, parked discreetly to the side. “That way.”

Following his lead, Y/N entered through the passenger seat. However, as the car sprang to life and its dashboard lights flickered on, Charles let out a frustrated groan.

“What's wrong?” Y/N inquired.

Charles shook his head for a moment, muttering, “I told him to fill up the gas…”

“Oh,” Y/N exhaled, resting her head against the soft leather headrest. “So, what now?”

Charles' eyes lit up with excitement as he sat up eagerly, turning to face her. "We've got some old bikes in the shed, so if you want to—"

"You want us to ride rusty old bikes, while carrying a cake?" Y/N interjected, her serious expression quickly giving way to laughter.

"...Yeah?"

Y/N narrowed her gaze, appraising Charles for a moment before rolling her eyes and pushing the door open. "This is so going to backfire. I can't believe I'm doing this."

Charles couldn't help but smile as he watched Y/N exit the car. He had a feeling she wouldn't turn this idea down, and he was glad he was right. It meant that despite the years, things hadn't changed too much between them. She was still the same Y/N he knew, and he hoped he was still the Charles she was willing to have a date with.

"Don't tell me I'm going to have to do this by myself now. You coming or what?" Her yell pierced through the car, prompting him to jump out and hurry towards the shed.

By the time he finally reached the shed, Y/N had already claimed a bike—and surprisingly, it was his. Charles used to guard that bike fiercely when he was younger, not allowing anyone, not even for a few minutes. But now, as he watched her mount it, he felt no trace of that possessiveness, not even a hint.

Perhaps it was because he had outgrown that childish behaviour, or maybe it was something else entirely. Either way, he couldn't deny the genuine happiness that bubbled up within him at the sight.

Now, if it were Amélie riding his bike at that moment, he wasn't quite sure he would feel the same way.

“Race you to the bakery?” Y/N grinned mischievously.

A wide smile immediately spread across Charles' face. “Sure, once I get my hands on a bike.”

“No,” she retorted, already starting to pedal. “You snooze, you lose.”

Racing to grab Lorenzo’s bike, Charles jumped on it, yelling, “Cheater!”

When he finally caught up to her, Y/N was no longer riding her bike but pulling it alongside her, causing him to slow down beside her. “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you riding?” One corner of his mouth curled upward as he fixed her with a knowing look, coming to a full stop. “Oh, did you finally realise that cheating isn’t the way to go?”

“Says you,” Y/N retorted, though her chuckles rang loud and clear as Charles fell into step with her.

“Anyway,” she pointed down at her bike, “the chain’s come loose. So yeah, I was right, this was a bad idea, and Amélie is going to kill us, and poor Pascale won’t have a birthday cake.”

“Wow, don’t be too optimistic now,” Charles teased, earning an elbow to his side. “We’re not too far from the bakery now, so I say let’s not worry until we get to the ‘how do we get back home in time’ part. What do you say?”

Y/N turned to Charles, her eyes lingering on his features longer than necessary. “Okay,” she finally nodded, “sounds like a plan.”

But her words seemed to fall on deaf ears. In the time she spent gazing at Charles, he had been doing the same, unwilling to move on from that moment quite as quickly as she had.

Stopping in his steps, Y/N continued a few more feet before finally noticing his hesitation and halting her movements, turning back. “Do you want Amélie to murder us?” she joked, but her humour faded when she saw Charles’ serious expression remain unchanged.

“Okay, what’s the matter—”

Charles cut her off with a sigh. “Why don’t we talk anymore, Y/N?”

“What do you mean? We’re talking right now.”

“Come on, seriously,” Charles walked up beside her.

Y/N just shrugged, her mouth suddenly as dry as the Sahara desert. “I don’t know…”

“Well, I don't either, so can we please just start over then?” Charles proposed, his tone tired of the tension and the walking on eggshells. It was too much when all he wanted was to be close to her, to laugh like they used to before everything went haywire.

Y/N looked off to the side, musing over his words for a moment, before meeting his gaze again with a small smile. “Okay, fine, I guess.”

“Wow, you seem really excited,” Charles remarked, flashing a wide grin.

“I really do, don't I? Now, if you don’t mind,” Y/N started walking again, “I really do not feel like being killed today, so let’s fucking go.”

“Alright, alright, I’m coming.”

2:31 ──────ㅇ────── 4:45

[thriftybruce]

3 pg. comic about an AU where both Stan and McGucket work on the portal together in the 80s

(Script for those who need it, or can't read my handwriting);

Page 1:

Caption: In an alternate universe, where Stan and Fiddleford worked together on the portal in the 80s...

Page 2:

Fiddleford (in his head): Huh...what is that racket? Huh? Oh!

Fiddleford: Well, I think I'm in need of a good, long break...

Do tell Stanley, I didn't think you'd be the kind to like David Bowie!

Stan: Well, I don't! But he's catchy...I'll give him that. Also... he was always playin' on the radio. It was nice havin' someone else on the road...

Fiddleford: Well, Lee, now's your chance to move your legs and get loose!

Page 3:

Fiddleford: C'mon Stan!!! Shake what your mama gave ya!

Stan: Alright, alright Fidds! Just this once though!

(after the dancing montage)

Stan: Okay okay! None of that now, c'mon we gotta get back to work.

Fiddleford: Woops! Sorry Stan, but I haven't felt this good in a long, long time. I got the jitters! The good kind, that is! But oh alright!

[hoshifighting]

hii, im super amazed at how you can crank out requests all the time and just wanna say that i really love your writing ♡

i think you have single-handedly been filling the void of vernon fics on this app, and as a vernon-bias i thank you ^^

if you have interest in writing this, would you be willing to do vernon tit worship? a little self-indulgent ask TT

a/n: hello!!! thank you sm <333 [the wattpad requests book from 2018 made me develop this ability i guess? 😭] and im sure there's writers here who writes ab vernonie too :(( but im happy that you're finding his content here as well <33

vernon + tit worship? uh-huh, i can totally see that working, you wouldn’t expect him to be so into anything specific at first, but that’s exactly where he'd catch you off guard. he'd be all calm, eyes tracing down, and then bam—he's fixated. no rush or anything, just pure, steady focus on your chest like it’s the only thing that exists in that moment.

and the thing with vernon is he wouldn’t just be hands-on right away. he’s gonna take his time. maybe you’re sitting there, minding your own business, and suddenly his eyes keep darting to your chest. you can almost feel him thinking about it, the way he drags it out like he’s figuring out how he’s gonna approach this, and you’re just like... waiting. he’s def the type to make you wait, to see if you’ll notice and tease him about it, and when you do, maybe you get that little half-smirk. 'cause you’re catching onto him but he's still playing it cool.

he likes the way you breathe, the way your body shifts, all that. and vernon’s got those long fingers too, so he’d definitely know how to work them, like tracing them up and over, maybe even a little bit teasing—just because he can, and he knows how you’re gonna react.

he’s not loud about it either. vernon’s not that dude who’s gonna be talking dirty the whole time. it’s more like low, muttered stuff, if anything, just the occasional 'yeah,' or maybe an 'mmm, you like that?' but it’s almost under his breath, 'cause he’s too focused on what he's doing. it’s less about what he says and more about how he acts. feel me?

oh, and don’t even get me started on when he uses his mouth. like, at first, it’s all teasing, lips barely brushing, tongue just flicking enough to get you to squirm, and you just know he’s enjoying watching you squirm too. and he’s patient as hell. like, vernon’s not gonna rush into it, he’s gonna savor that shit. he knows what you want, but he’s gonna drag it out until you’re practically begging. when he’s finally mouthing at your chest, those lazy, long sucks that have you arching into him, ‘cause you can’t take how focused he is. and you can’t even be mad about it either, ‘cause it’s so damn good. and it’s that whole vibe of him being soft and focused but also kinda cocky with it, ‘cause he knows the effect he’s having. like, he’s not the type to be all loud and obnoxious about it, but there’s a quiet confidence there. he might throw in a smirk every now and then, just 'cause he can tell you’re into it.

this isn’t just some one-off thing either. with vernon, it feels almost... personal? like, he’s making it all about you, and you can feel that. he’s locked in, tuned into how your body’s reactingg, how u r breathing, every little shift, and he’s playing off that. it’s intense in this quiet way, but damn, it works. so yeah, vernon + tit worship? 10/10, for sure. there’s no way that man isn’t turning that into a whole-ass experience every time. long story short: he’s chill, he’s focused, and he’s definitely making sure you’re feeling every second of it.

[nevadancitizen]

-> CH. 1: DIRECTIONLESS GENESIS

synopsis: you wake up in a lab with two strange men. they explain who they are, and where you are -- and how you got there. you find everything hard to believe.

word count: 3k

ships: Viktor/isekai!Reader, Jayce Talis & isekai!Reader

notes: small trigger warning for this chapter for brief misguided suicidal ideation

A BLAZE OF ARCANE BLUE MASTERLIST

Bzzt. Bzzt. “Hit or miss!” Bzzt. “I guess they never miss, huh?” 

You groan and reach out for your phone to turn off your alarm. You palm at the covers, trying to search for the source of the grating music without lifting your head. 

Bzzt. “You got a boyfriend –” Bzzt. “– I bet he doesn’t kiss ya!” 

You sit up in your bed – only to find out that it isn’t your bed. It’s a couch. A sinking feeling settles in your stomach as you turn over and face the rest of the room. The blinds on the windows are down and it’s kind of dark, but you can still make out two figures.

Two men are quietly panicking, their backs turned to you as one of them tries to (unsuccessfully) shut off the alarm. Their voices are hushed – “Is this supposed to be music?” “I don’t know, just stop it!” “And tell me exactly how to do that.”

It strikes your tired mind and shocks it into awareness when you realize you don’t know these men. Neither of them. And that, well… you don’t know where the hell you are. 

You try your best to quietly get off the couch, but your legs are tangled in the blankets. Instead, you roll to the floor with an ungraceful thud. Your shoulder takes the brunt of the impact. 

The two men’s eyes snap over to you. You all look at each other with eyes as wide as dinner plates. The alarm is still going – droning, annoying, but somehow undercutting the seriousness of waking up in an unknown location with unknown men.

You dart up and immediately slip on your blanket when you try to run, falling to the hard floor again. You stand up, staring them both down. (You’re sure you look pathetic, wide-eyed in pajamas and socks, but you don’t really care.)

“Hey, listen,” one of them says. He holds out a hand in what’s meant to be a soothing gesture. “Just… don’t panic, okay?”

He lets out a half-exhale, half-nervous laugh, revealing a tentative, gap-toothed smile. Your eyes dart between him and the other man, who almost looks to be his complete opposite. 

Slowly, you lift your legs from the blankets one at a time, untangling them. You glance around the room, making sure to keep both men in your line of sight. 

A workbench. A hammer. The plan isn’t fully formulated, but it’s there, and you’re enacting it.

You bolt across the room and pounce on the hammer. You quickly turn around, readying the hammer above your shoulder. The two men haven’t moved.

“N-now…” Your voice wavers despite yourself. You point at the men. “Now don’t you come any closer! You – you hear?”

“We are not moving,” the other man says. He’s paler than the other man, with dark undereye-bags and a cane. The handle probably has a knife hidden in there somewhere. He’s the one holding your phone, which is still going off.

Bzzt. “He gon’ skrrt –” Bzzt. “– n’ hit the dab like Wiz Khalifa!”

“Shut up!” You snap. “And turn that goddamn alarm off!”

The bigger man holds up a hand to the one who just spoke. A silent gesture saying, ‘Let me handle this.’ “That’s… what we’ve been trying to figure out.”

That gives you pause. These two men – who are dressed rather smartly, to their credit – can’t figure out how to turn a phone alarm off?

“Press the… grey button,” you say. “Y’know, the one that says ‘stop’?”

The paler man taps your phone screen, and the song turns off. Suddenly, in the semi-silence, everything seems so much more serious. You kind of wish that stupid 2018 TikTok song was still playing so you could continue to downplay the realness of the situation. 

He holds up your phone, almost tilting it towards you. “This is yours?”

“Um…” You readjust your grip on the hammer. “Yeah.”

There’s a silence. You swallow thickly, glancing around the room again. More of your things are on the far side of the workbench, near the men. Whatever. They’re not that high on your list of priorities. 

The bigger man tries to break the silence. “What’s your name?”

“What’s yours?” You parry. “‘Cause I’m goin’ to the cops, soon as I can.”

“Jayce Talis,” he says readily. “And this is my lab partner, Viktor.”

The other man – Viktor – tucks the handle of his cane under his arm and holds his hand up in a wave. A small smile graces his thin lips, like he’s trying to get you to calm down, to see that neither of them mean you any harm. You swear to yourself that you’re not so easily swayed.

“Okay,” you say, almost to yourself. You take a deep breath and exhale slowly. “Okay.”

You roll your shoulder and relax a little, now letting the hammer hang at your side. Both Jayce and Viktor seem to relax a bit, too. 

You steel yourself and nod, almost like you’re giving yourself permission. You introduce yourself, only giving your first name.

“That’s a start,” Jayce says. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“I couldn’t give a rat’s shit whether it’s nice or not,” you say. “I was fixin’ to cave both your goddamn skulls in. Still gonna, if you don’t tell me where the hell I am.”

Both of them share a glance. Viktor steps forward, his cane clicking against the floor as he does. 

“You are in one of the laboratories of Piltover Academy,” he says, “which is one of the most prestigious universities in all of Runeterra.”

You let out a strained laugh and sarcastically wag your finger at him. “You best start makin’ some sense quick, boy, ‘cause I don’t got a whole lotta patience.”

“It’s… complicated,” Viktor says. “You came from…”

He tilts his head and shifts his gaze over to something on the workbench. It’s… blue, and it’s glowing. It’s a rough but still kind of-circular rock, gently hovering above a small platform. 

“That. A hexstone.”

You pause. “What the fuck?”

“Yes, my thoughts exactly.” Viktor walks over to it, putting your phone down next to it. It moves, independently, a little closer to the hexstone. He pushes it further away, outside its… sphere of influence, you guess. 

“I was conducting a routine experiment to gather more data when the hexstone suddenly turned volatile,” he says. “I cannot describe it exactly, but… there were sparks, a light, and then…”

He looks over at you, a knowing look in his tired eyes. “You.”

You set your jaw and stare at him. He’s not joking. He genuinely believes that you were… birthed, maybe?… from this rock. Like some sort of ancient Greek myth; like how Athena was born, fully grown and armored, from Zeus’ head. 

“I don’t believe that for a split fuckin’ second,” you say, your voice laced with mean laughter. “You really think you can convince me that I was born in some big flash of light? You want me to believe your… goddamn magic rock brought me here?”

“It’s a hexstone,” Jayce says quickly. “Not a magic rock. Though it does have magical properties.”

“Right, right.” You put your hands up, one still holding the hammer. “My sincerest apologies. I do not – cannot – believe that your hexstone brought me to your secret little laboratory.”

“Yes, that’s what I thought you would say,” Viktor says. “You won’t believe us, no matter what we say. Is that not right?”

“Yeah,” you say. “‘Cause everything that comes out your mouth is total bullshit.”

Viktor reaches over to a switch near the edge of the window. He flicks it. You glance at Jayce. He’s watching Viktor.

Slowly, slowly, the blinds on the windows pull up. Light filters through, and the room is suddenly much more bright and inviting. (Not that you’re planning on staying or anything.)

Outside is just… not what you expect. The buildings are tall and the architecture is breathtaking. There’s an amazing clocktower in the distance, with an art piece sitting on top of it, composed entirely of golden, self-rotating cogs. 

And there’s zeppelins. Or airships, or blimps – you don’t know. You’ve only seen the Goodyear blimp on TV, and you’ve only heard of zeppelins when your daddy or one of his friends mentioned Led Zeppelin. But still – there’s a few of them, roaming the airspace mere hundreds of feet above the city like it was no big deal.

The hammer falling from your grip and banging against the floor pulls you from your thoughts. You flinch and jump back, jerking the foot you almost hit in the air with an exclamation of “Christ alive!”

Both men tense and turn towards you at the sound. You exhale sharply and put both feet firmly on the floor, trying to brush the little incident off as smoothly as you can.

“This is just… this’s just a trick of the light, that’s all!” You say. “Or TVs that look like windows, some-something like that.”

You pick up the hammer and brace a hand on the workbench, then hoist yourself up so that you’re standing on it. Jayce and Viktor are saying something, insisting you get down. You’re not paying attention. 

You raise the hammer, swing your arm, and –

It’s glass. 

It’s clear, thin glass that’s raining down in the streets below. You step back, almost tripping and falling off the workbench backwards in the process.

“No,” you say softly, almost like an exhale. Then, you raise your voice: “No! What the hell is this? You…”

You look back at Viktor and Jayce. They both look shocked, and stay quiet. You look at where the window meets the edge of the workbench. 

This must be some… some dream. That’s it. When you were a kid, you used to have these dreams where you were tiny, and fell in the crack between the edge of the mattress and the wall. The dream ended when you hit the ground. It didn’t really click in your kid-mind that falling from a tall height plus hitting the ground equals death, but still. You woke up. The end result was still the same.

You toe through the broken glass, sweeping it away with the side of your foot. You can feel a small prick in your skin. (This dream is very intricate. It impresses you, really.)

“Wait!” “Stop!”

You glance over your shoulder at them, then promptly continue what you were doing, smashing the hammer through the rest of the glass in the pane to clear it. 

“What’re you doing?” Jayce asks, his voice panicked. You feel his hand wrap around your ankle but give it no mind.

“It’s a dream,” you say. “If I die, I’ll get outta the dream. That’s simple logic, don’t you know?”

You lift your foot, trying to shake Jayce off. He doesn’t let go.

“What if we recreate the event?” Viktor asks. “Would that prevent you from jumping?”

You look over your shoulder at him and put your foot down. Jayce is still holding on. “What event?”

“The event that brought you here,” he says. “A… a rift in the universes, as I understand it.”

You pause. “That’s just plumb stupid.”

“Stupid enough to work,” Jayce says. His grip around your ankle tightens. “Right?”

“This ain’t some movie,” you snap. “We can’t conquer all with the power of love and Christ.”

“You do not seem like a stupid person,” Viktor says. “You know that jumping would guarantee your death. Or a painful stay in the hospital, at the very least.”

You glance down at the street below. Viktor’s right – it is a long way down. And even though it’s a dream, your heart is still beating wildly. The people below are so busy that they haven’t even stopped walking, or even noticed the glass on the street. They continue on with their day, smiling and sipping their seven-dollar coffees… or whatever it is rich people do in rich cities like this.

And then, everything you thought kind of just… comes crashing down. There’s people down there. You can see two people hugging. There’s a man holding a baby. A little family out on the town, doing their midday shopping. Your dream of this being a dream is just that – a dream. Your stomach drops a little and you can feel a cold sweat coming on.

“I – I got a life,” you say. “I got shit I gotta take care of – responsibilities. I go to college.”

“We can find supplemental instruction,” Jayce says quickly.

“I’m an art major,” you say. “I study Jewelry and Metal Arts! This’s gotta be a STEM school… the lab, how y’all ‘re dressed…”

“We can figure this out,” he says. “You can keep making jewelry. I – I can find a sponsor for you to keep going to school. Just… step away from the ledge. Okay?”

You breathe out a sigh and back away from the edge. Jayce’s grip around your ankle loosens. Even if this is a dream, it’s… it’s a nice dream. The skyline is nice, the men you woke up to are nice – well, they seem nice enough. The architecture of the clocktower is nice and so is the statue idly spinning atop it, the golden cogs rotating and catching the light, the resol so bright it may just blind someone…

You can feel the adrenaline in your blood drop and your hands start to shake. Jayce slowly, carefully takes the hammer from you, then helps you down off the workbench, almost guiding your body like a doll.

“Are you feeling alright?” He asks. 

You open your mouth, then close it with a breathy exhale that kind of resembles a laugh. You lean back against the edge of the workbench. “I’m… I’m worn slap out.”

Viktor looks you over with a scrutinizing gaze, then turns and walks into a sideroom, his cane clicking against the floor as he does. 

“You should take a seat,” Jayce says. 

Without your input, he takes your wrist and guides you back to the couch you woke up on. You practically collapse on it as you sit down.

“I…” Your eyes rake over the workbench. The broken window, the shards of glass. There’s a little blood where you cut your foot. You feel awful. “I caused one hell of a mess, didn’t I?”

A look crosses Jayce’s face that, in essence, says ‘Yes. Yes, you did.’ But if he has anything to say, he doesn’t.

Viktor comes back, a steaming mug in one hand, a small box in the other. The handle of his cane is tucked underneath his arm, but he manages to walk fine without using it. (You’re sure walking without it is taxing, but if there’s any indication, Viktor doesn’t let it show.)

He sits next to you on the couch, making sure to keep a polite distance. He holds out both the mug and the box towards you. “Sweetmilk to help with the adrenaline drop, and a first aid kit for your foot.”

“Oh.” You take them from him. Your fingers brush his, and it almost sends a shock through you – his skin is cold. “Thank you, sir.”

“There is no need for your formalities here,” Viktor says. He sounds kinder now that you aren’t acting like a total tweaker. 

“My momma raised me with manners in mind,” you say. 

You set the first aid kit in your lap, then raise the mug to your mouth and test the temperature with your lips. It’s hot, but it won’t burn you. You take a tentative sip, and it’s heaven. It’s a little bit of heaven consolidated into a mug of milk, sweet and spiced.

“That’s nice,” you say. “What’d you say this was again?”

“Sweetmilk,” Viktor says. 

You nod and take another sip. It warms you from the inside and washes away Viktor’s cold touch. The spices are warm and autumn-ish – like cinnamon and nutmeg and allspice, but not quite.

“I never, um…” You tap your fingers against the side of the mug. “I should give y’all a proper apology. So, I apologize. For…” You tilt your head and point at the mess you made with your eyes. “… that. I behaved inappropriately, and I should’a thought ‘fore actin’ like a fool.”

“I understand it. Well, kind of,” Jayce says. “You woke up in a strange place with strange men. It’s understandable that you would act like that.”

“Still. That was, uh…” You laugh breathily. “That was somethin’ else, weren’t it?”

“It was,” Viktor says, then his voice takes on an almost teasing lilt. “Hopefully you know how to behave yourself in the future.”

“Yessir, I do,” you say. A small smile makes its way onto your face. You know Viktor’s giving you hell just for the sake of it, and it’s a comfortable feeling. “Like I said, my momma beat them manners into me ‘til I wasn’t a toe outta line.”

Viktor and Jayce give you odd looks, and you can feel a warmth in your face. Perhaps corporal punishment involving children isn’t as prevalent here as it is back home.

“Never mind all that,” you excuse. “Was more like… verbal beatin’s than anything else.”

You can feel the newfound tension in the room relax a little. You just sip your sweetmilk (which may be your new favorite drink, honestly) and pretend as if nothing’s wrong. You’re good at that.

You take a mental note that you’ll have to watch your tongue in the future – you don’t want these young men’s patience to run out. This is a strange world, and you’re a stranger to it. Piltover seems like a rich city, and rich cities don’t take kindly to poor folk… You’re a Southerner. The South is nothing but poor.

Whatever. You’ll make it work. You always have. How can this be any different…?

[madthetruemad]

Reader with a cursed technique that allows you to travel back in time. Only problem though? You don't know how to go back to the present.

"Oh shi-"

You dove to the ground just as cursed energy cut through the air.

You knew that technique...

Dismantle.

You were partly glad that you weren't in a domain, or that definitely would have hit you.

Though, your relief was short-lived when you felt someone stand above you. Your whole body froze as your breath hitched. You wanted to look up, but you weren't stupid. You knew who Sukuna was, you had the pleasure of hearing him talk from Itadori's cheek plenty of times.

So you stayed there, head down and body pressed low to the ground. Worst case scenario? He steps on you and crushes you in the process.

Though, suddenly, you felt someone grab the back of your hoodie.

"Ah-"

Your feet were no longer touching the ground as you felt yourself be brought forward.

"The clothes you're wearing. They aren't from this time period."

You nodded.

Talking to Sukuna while Itadori kept him at bay was one thing. Talking to Sukuna without a vessel in sight was another. Itadori can't save you here.

He looked you up and down. From your sneakers to your jeans and to your hoodie that you wore over a shirt that had your favorite anime character on it.

"When do you come from?"

You thought how weird it was for Sukuna to be talking to like this. The Sukuna you know was chaotic. He cuts down everything and anything the moment that Itadori let's him out. But then again, this was heian era sukuna, maybe he was more relaxed?

You decided not to dwell on it.

"2018...," you managed to say, "about 1000 something years in the future. Give or take. And before you ask, my cursed technique let's me travel however far back I want, though... I haven't figured out how to get back yet."

You saw one of his free hands reach out to grab the front of your hoodie so he wasn't on the back of it anymore.

"That so?"

You nodded.

"You seem to know me."

"W- well, that's because you're in the future. Hella scary, too. Pretty sure you tried to cut my head off at least three times."

"Yet you live."

"To be fair.. that third time I escaped to the past. Though, seems like I wasn't lucky since you're here too."

You smiled sheepishly.

Sukuna ended up setting you down, much to your surprise.

"Huh?"

"Follow me."

You looked to him as he went on his way as if you just hadn't dropped the bomb that you were a timetraveller of sorts.

"Don't follow, and I really will slice off that head of yours no matter when you may end up."

You didn't know what the king of curses had in store for you, but you followed nonetheless (while also trying to activate your cursed technique in hopes of getting back to the present).

[dr-spectre]

A little tidbit about Hypno Callie...

I wanted to touch on a little interesting detail about Hypno Callie because this fascinating thing relating to her dialogue is very much overlooked and for a valid reason. Unless you know Japanese and have played Splatoon 2 in it's original Japanese version then you've probably missed this very cool detail about her.

So what I'm talking about? Well, Callie under the Hypnoshades speaks in katakana. For those who are unaware which is probably... 99% of you, katakana is a form of writing in Japan used for foreign words and accents. Splatoon characters from my knowledge are written in hiragana which is common in Japanese media, however, the only characters that use katakana are Octarians like Marina and Octavio.

As you may or may not know, Octarians actually have their own language and probably have a distinctive accent compared to Inklings which is why their dialogue is written in katakana. Marina's dialogue is written in katakana as she was born in Octarian society and the Inkling language is her second language so she probably has a very strong accent when speaking. Octavio's dialogue is written in katakana because well... He's the leader of the Octarians, duh.

So when Callie is under the Hypnoshades, her dialogue changes to katakana and when the shades get shot off of her, her ability to speak in her regular language slowly gets restored as her dialogue slowly goes back to being hiragana.

So did the shades cause this? Did the shades brainwash her and force the Octarian language into her brain? Well... if you have seen my other posts going over the Hypnoshades in great detail... no. That's not the case, and i have proof!!!

During the Tokaigi 2018 live performance, when Callie recalls the events of Splatoon 2 to joke around with Marie, her dialogue is written in katakana for a brief period. (Rough translation from Inkipedia.)

So what most likely happened is that Callie actually learnt the Octarian language from her time in Octo Canyon and she can speak it with ease. Or she developed an accent from her time being among the Octarians and picked up on the way they speak. Smollusk did state that Callie has Octoling friends and if they aren't talking about Shiver and Marina then we can assume that Callie has other Octoling friends who she can talk to in their language out of respect. It's now a new headcanon for me that Callie speaks with Marina in Octarian in private....

It's actually so interesting to me that Callie was so stunned and dazed from Marie flinging her out of hypnosis and seeping ink into her eye that she was talking between different languages or accents WHILE SINGING AND DANCING! That's insane to think about... Callie was really going through it in Splatoon 2 huh.

(images from frequent.squidsisters on instagram and inkipedia)