#E-006

[opelman]

50 Years by Treflyn Lloyd-Roberts Via Flickr: Danish F-16 E-006 shows off its special Fighting Falcon Half Century markings during its practice display for the 2024 Royal International Air Tattoo. Aircraft: Royal Danish Air Force General Dynamics F-16AM Fighting Falcon E-006. Location: RAF Fairford, Gloucestershire.

[mister13eyond]

read 10h's short story and i really like so much of how pod 006's personality was adapted into mama especially.... like it's fun going back to the source and seeing that even before she was calling herself mama in the cage, pod 006 had absolutely developed most of the quirks and idiosyncrasies we see in her personality later on

also the chess scene with 10h and mama was precious? neither of them are good at chess so they're just trying to distract each other into making mistakes....

10h being the final act protag of reincarnation adds So much imo too, like... idk, i've thought a lot about how the thing with reincarnation is that it builds on yoko taro's final trick in replicant/automata so well. like "you would give something up for the fictional happiness of these pixels on the screen, because that's how strong human empathy is- you want to make them happy even knowing they're not real" is such a strong point in replicant and automata but like

reincarnation adds a whole extra layer to that. the people in the cage are not only pixels and data to us, they're even pixels and data WITHIN the framework of the world. they were never even real INSIDE the fiction. they're at best memories of long-dead people whose stories have already ended, and at worst lines of code personified. but they're also 10h's only solace from loneliness. of course she cares about them and feels empathy for them after watching their stories play out over the course of three years. so do we. of course she considers them her friends even though they've had a one-sided relationship through a screen- so do we

10h adds another doll to the russian doll of unreality going on in yoko taro games- she's us, but we're also in the exact same position with her. she's been alone and trapped inside and stir crazy and lonely, with only her pod for company, for all this time, and she bonded with some data she watched through a screen because empathy and investment in stories and having strong feelings about the world inside of a story is a deeply human experience and she and her pod have both gotten a little too human in their time together with the cage

but we have the same relationship with her!! we only know her from a short story and a brief appearance on the other side of a screen, but we care about her! we want her to be happy!!

[cyborg00-why]

If you remember, Keio department store held a cyborg 009 sofubi event in honor of the 60th anniversary this past July. At the time, Artisan Toy Tokyo previewed a collection of reissue sofubi that would later be made available for purchase. They are now up and accepting both pre-orders for the full sets in a display case, or individual sofubi pre-orders. All characters are sold individually with exception to 001 & 003, which are sold as a set. What's more, they offer international shipping at a fair rate. Prices range from $53-$118 USD depending on the figure you want, and yes the display case is also sold on it's own. Pre-orders are currently slotted for April 2025 fulfillment, so if you place an order please keep that in mind. And yes, if these look familiar they are based on the older Denboku Cyborg 009 sofubi series that were released in both their green and red prototype uniforms. Though these have a little more of a retro feel with the painted details and fully vinyl scarf as opposed to the limp plastic sheeting they used previously.

[peterpvn]

There’s no heroes or villains in this place Just shadows that dance in my headspace

Floresta das Fadas, um dia depois do Festival de Boas Vindas.

O corpo podia ser imortal, mas não estava imune a dores. E naquela manhã, em específico, corpo inteiro doía, enquanto o cérebro parecia estar sendo esmagado por uma fada perversa. Com um gemido, Peter abriu os olhos, lutando contra a claridade que atravessava a copa das árvores da Floresta das Fadas. Estava despido da cintura para cima e coberto de suor, como se a noite tivesse sido excepcionalmente boa. Acontece que não lembrava de nada, nem como tinha ido parar ali.

Sabia que tinha sido obrigado a participar da recepção e de toda aquela baboseira envolvendo os perdidos – no passado, não era essa burocracia toda; bastava arrancar uma criança de um berço e não se falava mais nisso – como se eles fossem criaturas especiais que tinham de se sentir especiais. Depois, aquele baile, em que ele tinha bebido mais vinho feérico do que era capaz de engolir. Talvez tenha ficado sóbrio no instante que tudo começou a desabar, ou, mais precisamente, quando sentiu que um cordão havia sido cortado. Não com a sua Terra do Nunca, mas com aquele que era o segundo lugar preferido dele quando se tratava de se aventurar.

A última coisa de que se lembrava era da conversa com Clarion - algo sobre abalos no outro mundo no exato momento em que Pride Lands ruiu. Sim, foi exatamente isso que disse à fada-mor, não foi? Que uma merda muito grande podia ter acontecido lá fora, no mundo deles. Não com essas palavras, é claro – ela nunca tinha tolerado a presença dele, muito menos seu linguajar. Mas a rainha das fadas não tinha dado importância, optando por recomendar que não dissesse nada a ninguém a respeito do assunto.

Mas por que justo Clarion havia dito que não devia falar sobre aquilo? Quer dizer, Peter Pan podia não ser um poço de responsabilidade e comprometimento, mas eles tinham obrigações para com o Conselho como representantes da Terra do Nunca. Além do mais, a situação já estava péssima e o caos instaurado. Saber dos abalos no outro mundo pioraria tanto assim o humor de Merlin, mesmo quando ele aparentemente não estava fazendo porra nenhuma?

Peter precisava pensar a respeito, assim que encontrasse sua camisa.

Se levantando do chão ao mesmo tempo em que cambaleava em busca do traje, o líder dos garotos perdidos sentiu um vazio – frio, secura, fraqueza absoluta, como há muito não sentia – que nada tinha a ver com estar despido no meio da floresta. Algo mais estava faltando. Algo mais tinha mudado desde a noite anterior. A pouca luz que entrava através da vegetação não projetava nada. Mesmo quando alcançou a clareira e buscou por sua forma no chão, nada apareceu.

Sua maldita Sombra não estava mais com ele.

[iceqelsa]

tag dump

[oamordotadeu]

tag dump

[juliangladiator]

"It's okay to be afraid, Juneau," Julian felt tear tangibly, it was something he was so finely tuned to some days he wished to ignore it altogether, but it taunted the gladiator from the moment he picked his head up in the morning to the very second his head hit the pillow at night. If the waking world wasn't miserable, fears had followed Julian to his slumber, taunting him through the wolf dream, showing him a life he could lead if only he allowed bravery to carve a path within his heart. Today he would not let fear be his guide, Julian would complete what he set out to do, Julian would be a Feronia wolf. "It's just not fair sometimes for you to act too cool and skulk in the corner, if you want to support me then prove it. Show me." A challenge marred by yearning but it wasn't an ultimatum and it likely never would be. He didn't mean to ignore the embrace, but the little wolf was speakin' up, "I don't want your regrets, your apologies and clarifications after the fact. I just want you to be up front with me in the moment…. if you can." His argument began to lose steam the more he spoke, Julian shrugging in the end, sourly, "I don't think I ask for too much."

Juneau stared back at him, waves of guilt evident in both her expression and across the bond they shared. She was there for him, in a physical sense. She was failing him on all other fronts, and she knew it. Her weight shifted and she shuffled her feet trying to think of something, anything to say to soften the sharp edge of her ineptitude. She had tried to tell Julian it might be better if he abandoned any prospect that included her and found someone else, someone better. He didn’t want to. She didn’t want him to either. Juneau chewed on the inside of her cheek as she tried to think of what Alder might say. “I’m… glad you’re doing this. Just because it’s not something I want doesn’t mean I don’t see why you would,” she tried, though it sounded like she was struggling to pull her thoughts together. “I’m really proud of you for doing this, and happy for you, too.” She glanced away when it felt like too much and tried to swallow the anxiety that came with the awareness that she lacked what she wanted to give him most. “I want to hear all about it after,” she told him in earnest, nervously lifting her arms to offer him a hug she was almost certain he’d forego.

[skinnyllopez]

as 100 melhores coisas para saber (parte 1)

(as 100 melhores coisas que eu achei na internet antiga, como a lista é grande vou postar 4 partes cada uma contendo 25 dicas)

se você não for do ed ou tiver em rec ou ter gatilhos não leia por favor!!

001. Beba um copo d'água a cada hora. Isso fará você se sentir satisfeito;

002. Escolha um alimento para o dia, como uma maçã. Corte-a em 8 fatias. Coma 2 fatias no café da manhã, 2 no almoço, 2 no jantar e você terá 2 sobrando para um lanche. Dessa forma, seu corpo pensa que está comendo 4 vezes naquele dia, mas na realidade você só comeu 1 maçã. No dia seguinte, escolha outro alimento. Certifique-se de que seja apenas 1 porção, dividida em 3 ou mais ao longo do dia;

003. Não tente jejuar por dias e dias. Primeiro, jejuar por longos períodos de tempo desacelera o metabolismo; segundo, aumenta imensamente os desejos por compulsão alimentar; e terceiro, afeta muito o seu humor. Em vez de ficar feliz por perder peso, você ficará deprimido simplesmente por falta de comida;

004. Se você mora sozinho ou tem muita privacidade, cole fotos de suas modelos favoritas e sempre carregue uma com você. Quando estiver com fome, retire a foto. Se você mora sozinho, cole-as na geladeira, no freezer e nos armários (lembre-se de retirá-las ou cobri-las quando alguém chegar);

005. Use sempre gloss ou protetor labial perfeitamente aplicados. Isso te mantém bem atento ao que entra na boca e te faz pensar duas vezes antes de comer qualquer coisa, porque você terá que reaplicá-los com cuidado;

006. Se você está com muita vontade de comer, escove os dentes com uma pasta de dente forte de menta. Isso ajuda a afastar você da comida por causa do gosto que ela deixa;

007. Quando estiver com fome, faça algo nojento, como procurar minhocas, limpar a caixa de areia de um gato ou algo assim. Isso diminuirá sua vontade de comer;

008. Entre cada garfada, tome um gole de água. Isso te sacia e desacelera a alimentação, para que você mantenha o controle e a refeição não se transforme em uma compulsão alimentar;

009. Ao beber água, beba água GELADA... seu corpo precisa queimar calorias para manter a temperatura corporal alta;

010. Tome laxantes! existem laxantes naturais, encontrados em alimentos como ameixas e uvas. Além disso, existem certas pastilhas para tosse e doces sem açúcar que produzem um efeito laxante devido ao adoçante usado neles;

011. Tente comer no mesmo lugar todos os dias. Em algum lugar solitário. Não na frente da TV ou do computador. Se você tiver que parar o que está fazendo para ir comer, talvez nem se dê ao trabalho;

012. Coma o que você deseja. Mas coma antes de desejar com moderação. Por exemplo, em vez de uma barra de chocolate inteira, pegue uma pequena e coma apenas metade dela. Permita-se aproveitá-la. A privação leva à compulsão alimentar;

013. Durma pelo menos 6 horas por noite. Menos de 6 horas de sono por noite estimula o apetite em 15%. Muitas pessoas com transtornos alimentares sofrem de insônia, mas é realmente importante dormir o máximo possível. Não apenas para perder peso, mas porque ajuda o corpo a se manter saudável mesmo quando está morrendo de fome;

014. Sempre coma porções do tamanho de uma colher de chá de cada vez e mastigue bem. Você ficará mais satisfeito com menos comida, então não vai querer terminar o que está no seu prato;

015. Se você estiver com muita fome, compre um pacote de balas duras com baixo teor de gordura e calorias. Quando você as chupa muito, seu estômago lhe dirá que você está satisfeito;

016. Tente beber mais bebidas quentes. Líquidos quentes expandem o trato intestinal e fazem você se sentir mais satisfeito. Uma bebida quente pode ajudar a aliviar sua fome, evitando excessos mais tarde. Na verdade, a sopa pode fazer o mesmo. Os cubos de linguiça têm apenas 5 calorias por cubo e têm um sabor maravilhoso;

017. Concentre-se especialmente nas três primeiras mordidas. Depois disso, a excitação de comer começará a diminuir lentamente e você provavelmente ficará satisfeito com uma porção menor;

018. Alimentos apimentados aumentam seu metabolismo e queimam um pouco mais de calorias do que alimentos suaves;

019. Se você sentir vontade de comer, vá à casa de um amigo que você não possa simplesmente roubar a geladeira. Estar perto de outras pessoas fará com que você tenha menos vontade de comer, já que a maioria das pessoas com transtornos alimentares tem vergonha de ser pega comendo em público;

020. Quando sair, leve apenas alguns reais com você para quando pasaar em lojas fast foods não possa comprar nada;

021. Antes de devorar aquele pote de sorvete, pacote de batatas fritas, etc., respire fundo e conte até 100. Normalmente, quando você parar de contar, terá se convencido de que realmente não precisa daquilo;

022. Escreva um bilhete para si mesmo listando todos os motivos pelos quais você finalmente está pronto para perder peso. Mantenha esta carta com você o tempo todo, para inspiração;

023. Verifique sua cabeça. Nunca coma nada maior do que sua cabeça, nem mesmo alface. Você só vai esticar seu estômago. Treine seu estômago para se contentar com menos(

024. Se você adora um determinado alimento, guarde as embalagens mesmo depois de comê-lo. Sinta o cheiro quando estiver com fome;

025. Coma seus doces no café da manhã.

[allmondmilktea]

₊˚⊹ low stakes - kuroo tetsurou x f!reader [ongoing] ᰔ

you’re not dating. you’re just texting nonstop. and having sex. and maybe sleeping over.

(you’re in a situationship w kuroo tetsurou but it’s totally under control)

ੈ✩‧₊˚ cw - explicit smut - minors and ageless blogs dni. fem! reader, adult rec league! au (timeskip), friends to lovers, friends with benefits, porn with plot, masturbation, light dom/sub dynamics, oral sex (f and m receiving), oral fixation, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, SUPER slow burn, age gap (2-3 years)

ੈ✩‧₊˚ a/n - each chapter below links to ao3. chapters with suggestive content are labeled (s) and with explicit sexual content are labeled (e). thanks for reading! ♡

“So is this, like… a friends with benefits situation, then?” Kuroo paused, eyes flicking briefly down to where your bodies were still pressed together. He scratched the back of his neck, clearly trying to stay chill despite how flushed his face was. “I mean… yeah?” His voice was a little hoarse. “If the benefits include mind-blowing sex, then yeah. Definitely friends. With extreme benefits.” You laughed, a little breathless. “Perfect. We’ll keep it, like��low stakes, then. Emotionally non-lethal,” you said. He grinned, hands sliding up your thighs. “Exactly. No confusion. No mess. Just casual, deeply unholy behavior.”

ੈ✩‧₊˚ CHAPTERS ⋆ ★

001. dangerously your type - part 1

002. dangerously your type - part 2

003. filed under: ignore

004. the beach episode - part 1 (s)

005. the beach episode - part 2 (e)

006. proper motivation (s)

007. moral inferiority (e)

008. legs, tits, thighs, repeat (s)

009. low stakes (e)

010. basically pre-workout (e)

011. 2015 (s)

012. the first time (e)

013. unspoken mutual misunderstanding (e)

014. [TBA]

all rights reserved © 2025 allmondmilktea. please do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works in any platform.

[rafeysbangs]

lachesism , rafe cameron ( series ) 05

pairing ; brother's!bsf!rafe x kook!female!reader

content ; mdni !! outerbanks au, eventual smut, angst, violence, underage drinking, family issues, substance abuse, s/a.

summary ; rafe cameron is everything you can’t stand; reckless, infuriating, and too self-assured for his own good. as your brother’s best friend, he’s always been a constant presence, one you’ve done your best to ignore. but the tension between you has always simmered just beneath the surface, sharp and impossible to ignore. you’ve spent years resisting his pull, refusing to give him the satisfaction. but in a world where lines blur and control slips away, you’re forced to face the truth: rafe cameron isn’t so easy to hate after all.

status ; ongoing .ᐟ

✺ navigation ; 004. 005. 006.

FIVE, the hollow beneath ribs.

YOU WOKE TO THE SOFT HUM OF YOUR CEILING FAN, 

your head pounding faintly from the night before. you stretched lazily, blinking against the morning light filtering through your curtains. the bed felt oddly spacious, and you turned your head to confirm what you already suspected, rafe wasn't there. carter, on the other hand, was still sprawled out on the floor, tangled in blankets, snoring lightly.

you sat up slowly, your movements careful, and rubbed your temples. a hangover cure was the first priority. sliding out of bed, you tiptoed past carter and made your way downstairs. on the way, you passed the guest bedroom rafe usually stayed in and glanced inside. it was empty, the bed untouched.

your brows knitted together, a flicker of confusion sparking in your half-asleep mind. shrugging it off for the moment, you made your way into the kitchen. the smell of alcohol still clung to the air from the night before, you cringed at the sight of the house and wiped down the stove top. you set a pan on the stove and began cracking eggs into a bowl, tossing in a few strips of bacon and hash browns once the pan was hot.

as the food sizzled and filled the room with a rich, savory smell, the front door creaked open. you turned, spatula in hand, to see rafe stepping inside. he was wearing the same clothes from the party, his hair slightly mussed, and he avoided your eyes at first, brushing past you toward the counter.

"where were you?" you asked sharply, your voice low but pointed. your eyes scanned his face for clues, but he was annoyingly hard to read, as usual.

"just out," rafe muttered, grabbing a glass and filling it with water from the tap. he drank it in one go, his back to you.

"out where?" you pressed, taking a cautious step closer.

he finally looked at you, his expression unreadable. "relax. it's not a big deal."

before you could push further, carter's footsteps thudded down the stairs, cutting through the tension. he appeared in the kitchen doorway, his hair a mess and his face still puffy from sleep. "is that bacon i smell?" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

you sighed, turning back to the stove and letting the subject drop for now. "yeah, sit down. food's almost ready."

rafe smirked faintly as he slid into a chair at the table. "you're spoiling us, didn't know you were so domestic."

you shot him a look over your shoulder but didn't respond, your mind still turning over his mysterious absence. you served up plates of bacon, eggs, and hash browns, sliding one in front of each of them before sitting down with your own.

as they ate, carter filled the silence with lazy chatter about the party, laughing about how someone had nearly fallen into the pool fully clothed. you nodded along, but your eyes kept darting toward rafe, your suspicion lingering like a shadow.

he caught you staring once and raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips as if to say, what's your problem? but you didn't rise to the bait. instead, you silently decided to keep an eye on him for the rest of the day. whatever he was up to, you weren't going to let it slide unnoticed.

the cleanup was gruelling, the aftermath of the party revealing itself in every corner of the house and yard. empty cups and bottles were scattered across tables, the faint smell of beer still clinging to the air. you, carter, and rafe moved through the chaos like a reluctant cleaning crew, each tasked with a section. you found herself around the pool, collecting forgotten items; someone's jacket, a pair of sunglasses, even a lone flip-flop.

you glanced over at rafe, who was lazily tossing garbage into a bag. your suspicion bubbled up again, and before you could stop yourself, the words slipped out.

"so, are you gonna tell me where you went this morning?"

rafe froze, his jaw tightening before he slowly looked up at you. "not this again," he muttered, shaking his head.

"yeah, this again," you shot back, crossing your arms. "you disappeared. you come back acting all shady. what's the deal?"

he let out a sharp laugh, but there was no humour in it. "maybe i don't owe you a play-by-play of my life."

"you're staying under our roof," you said pointedly, your voice rising slightly. "the least you could do is not sneak off to fuck-knows-where without a word."

"god, you're such a control freak," he snapped, his voice cutting through the quiet of the backyard. "maybe that's why no one ever invites you to stuff unless carter drags you along. you don't know how to loosen up unless you've got a drink in your hand."

you blinked, the words hitting harder than you wanted to admit. your hands clenched into fists at her sides, and for a second, you thought about throwing one of the empty bottles at his stupid face.

"you're such a piece of shit, rafe," you said instead, your voice low and venomous. "you don't care about anyone but yourself. no wonder you end up at places like barry's, completely out of it. maybe if you weren't so desperate to ruin your life, people would actually give a damn about you."

he shook his head, face darkening, "you're such a bitch." his lips pressing into a thin line. without another word, he turned on his heel and stalked off, the trash bag swinging at his side. you watched him go, your chest heaving with anger and something else you didn't want to name.

same old rafe, you thought bitterly, tossing the last of the garbage into a bin. always running, always destructive.

it took another hour to finish cleaning up, and by the time they were done, you were exhausted. you flopped onto the couch and put on a random tv show, barely paying attention as you scrolled through your phone.

"we're heading to the club," carter announced, appearing in the doorway with rafe trailing behind him.

"have fun," you replied without looking up.

"you sure you don't wanna come? maybe play a few holes?"

"pass," you said curtly, her gaze fixed on the tv.

carter shrugged, and they left. you didn't even glance at rafe as he walked out the door, though you could feel his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary.

once the house was quiet again, you let out a heavy sigh and made your way upstairs. sitting on the windowsill of your bedroom, you packed a bowl and lit it, the sharp smell of weed filling the room. you blew the smoke out into the crisp air, your mind spinning before lighting her lavender candle. 

what's with him lately? you thought, leaning your head back against the frame. you hated that you were even worried about rafe cameron of all people. but the memory of him at barry's, glassy-eyed and reckless, stuck in your head.

"he gets himself into this mess," you muttered under your breath, taking another hit.

and yet, the nagging feeling wouldn't go away. 

your head was heavy from the weed, but it wasn't doing enough to numb the constant churn of your thoughts. your finger tapped rhythmically against the lighter, flicking it open and shut, the small spark of flame giving your hands something to do. anything to distract you from replaying the morning's argument over and over in your head.

rafe's words had this way of slicing right through you, like he wasn't even trying. it wasn't just what he said but how he said it, the sharpness in his tone, the way his eyes cut into yours as if you were nothing more than an inconvenience. you hated him for it. you hated that he could get under your skin so effortlessly, that he could leave you standing there, fuming, long after he'd stormed off.

but what annoyed you even more was that beneath all that anger, you still felt something else. a pull you didn't want to acknowledge, something softer that made your stomach twist.

rafe cameron was trouble. you'd known that for years. everyone did. sarah had told you that a million times growing up. "stay out of his way. rafe's not just destructive- he's dangerous." and you had listened. or at least, you'd tried to.

but it was impossible to avoid someone like rafe. he had this presence, this energy that demanded attention. he walked into a room and everyone noticed, whether they wanted to or not. his reputation was loud and clear; the king of kooks, the cameron family's untamed problem child.

ignorance was bliss for the parents of figure eight, and ward cameron was no different. as long as rafe didn't make enough noise to embarrass the family name, who cared what he did in his spare time? who cared how many bridges he burned or how many lives he left in his wake?

and yet, there was something about him that people couldn't look away from. you hated yourself for admitting it, but rafe cameron had a magnetism that was hard to ignore. it wasn't just the way he carried himself, like the world owed him something. it was the danger in him, the unpredictability.

you'd seen it firsthand, countless times. the way he'd tear someone down without blinking, the way he'd cross any line if it meant getting what he wanted. he didn't just pass by obstacles, he demolished them.

he wasn't a mystery. not really. everyone knew what rafe cameron was: cold, calculated, cruel. he carried himself with this untouchable arrogance, and it made your blood boil every time you were around him.

but then there were moments, brief, fleeting moments, where that mask of his cracked. like the night you'd saved him from barry's, too high to make a snarky comment, stumbling to the spare bedroom in silence. or the way he'd talked to you by the pool before the party, promising you softly that everything would be fine.

this morning had been a different story. his anger, his defensiveness, it was familiar, the rafe you'd expected. but there was something else there, too. something deeper you couldn't quite name.

you hated how your mind kept circling back to him, like you were trying to figure out a puzzle you didn't even want to solve. rafe cameron wasn't your problem. he wasn't your project or responsibility.

but then why couldn't you stop thinking about him? why did you feel this nagging concern for someone who clearly didn't deserve it?

"he's not all that," you murmured under your breath, the words hanging in the still air of her room. because you'd seen it now, hadn't you? under the bravado, the cruelty, the cocky smirks, there was something else. something fragile and broken.

you inhaled deeply, letting the smoke fill your lungs, hoping it would drown out the noise in your head. rafe cameron was a mess. a dangerous, destructive mess. but you couldn't help the part of you that wondered what he might look like without all the walls he'd built around himself.

you were curled up on the couch, a plate balanced on your lap as you quietly ate dinner and flipped through a book. the faint hum of the kitchen fan was the only sound in the house, the rest of the food still sitting warm on the stove and counter, waiting for carter and rafe to stumble back from whatever chaos they'd brewed at the country club.

you were halfway through a page when the front door creaked open, followed by a thud. carter's voice, strained and breathless, muttered, "jesus, rafe, help me out here."

you set your plate down, standing as carter struggled to drag rafe into the house. rafe was draped over carter like dead weight, giggling and mumbling under his breath. his words slurred together, something about "the perfect swing" and "stupid ties."

"oh my god," you said softly, watching as carter manoeuvred rafe toward the couch.

"don't even start," carter said, gritting his teeth. "he's... completely gone. i didn't know what else to do. he nearly got us banned from the country club. they threatened to call ward, but i got us out of there."

rafe flopped onto the couch with a heavy thud, his head rolling to the side, eyes half-open and unfocused. you blinked, unsure you'd ever seen him this bad before. rafe cameron was a lot of things - loud, arrogant, reckless - but you'd never seen him this publicly out of control.

"what do we even do with him?" carter muttered, rubbing his face. "he's your problem now. i'm getting a bucket before he ruins the furniture."

you stood frozen, your arms crossed, watching as carter disappeared into the garage. rafe shifted beside you, mumbling something you couldn't quite catch.

"rafe, what are you even saying?" you asked hesitantly, glancing down at him.

his eyes fluttered open, unfocused but locking on yours for a brief moment. "you're, uh... you're kinda pretty when you're not yelling," he slurred, a dopey grin spreading across his face.

you frowned, a flush creeping up your neck despite yourself. "okay, you're done talking."

"nah, 'm serious," he mumbled, his voice drifting off. "you... you saved me or something, didn't you? or was that... uh..." he trailed off, giggling to himself.

before you could respond, carter returned with a bucket and sighed loudly. "help me get him up," he said.

between the two of you, you managed to haul rafe to the guest bedroom ensuite. he wasn't cooperating much, his legs dragging as they half-carried, half-pushed him inside.

"just leave him here," carter said, laying out a towel on the bathroom floor. "if he throws up, at least it's easy to clean."

you sighed, kneeling to adjust the towel under rafe's head as he slumped half in the bathroom and half out. you watched him for a moment, his usually sharp features soft and disheveled, his breathing uneven.

"carter," you said quietly, standing and crossing your arms. "i need to tell you something."

he looked up from where he was tossing a pillow onto the floor for rafe. "what?"

"the first night he started staying here," you began, your voice hesitant. "it wasn't just to avoid his dad. i found him at barry's... doing coke at 2 in the morning. he was so out of it, carter. i didn't have a choice but to bring him back."

carter didn't look surprised. he rubbed the back of his neck and sighed heavily. "yeah... that checks out."

"that's it? 'that checks out'?" you snapped, your frustration bubbling.

"what do you want me to say?" carter said, his voice tired. "this is just... it's who he is. he's not gonna want to change, never has."

you looked back at rafe, a lump forming in your throat. "maybe he should."

carter didn't answer, just shrugged and turned toward the door. "you coming?"

"no," you said quietly. "i'll staying here for a bit... make sure he doesn't choke on his vomit or something."

carter hesitated but nodded, leaving you alone with rafe, the faint sound of his breathing filling the silence.

you sat against the end of the bed, your arms crossed tightly over your chest as you stared at rafe. his breathing was uneven, his chest rising and falling like he was fighting against the weight of whatever had dragged him under.

you didn't know why you stayed. maybe it was pity, or maybe you just didn't want to sit alone in the silence of the house while carter went off to do whatever.

you watched him for a while, the fluorescent bathroom light flickering faintly above them. his hair was a mess, his shirt wrinkled and stained from whatever mess he'd gotten into at the country club. for someone so used to exuding power, he looked small right now, like the world had stripped him bare.

"why do you do this to yourself?" you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper.

rafe stirred slightly, his head turning toward you. you thought he might be waking up, but his eyes stayed shut, his lips parting just enough to let out a soft groan.

"you're such a mess," you said, the words sharper this time, even though you didn't mean them to be. "and you just... don't care, do you? you don't care how it affects anyone else."

your voice cracked at the end, surprising you. you hadn't meant to let it get to you like this.

rafe mumbled something incoherent, his hand twitching against the towel. you leaned forward slightly, trying to catch what he was saying, but it was nothing, just fragments of words that didn't make sense.

you sighed, running a hand through your hair, suddenly exhausted. standing, you grabbed a spare blanket from the closet and draped it over him, tucking the edges around his shoulders like you were trying to protect him from something he wouldn't even notice.

"you're lucky carter cares enough to drag you back here," you muttered. "because i don't think anyone else would."

you didn't know if that was true. people cared about rafe, but not in the way he needed. they cared about what he could offer, the status he brought, the chaos he caused. it was transactional, always.

you turned off the bedroom light and dimmed the bathroom one, leaving the door open just enough for the hallway light to spill in. your feet felt heavy as you left the room, like the weight of the night was finally catching up to you.

as you crawled into her bed, the smell of lavender still faintly clinging to your sheets, your mind wouldn't stop racing. flashes of rafe at barry's, rafe slumped over carter's shoulder, rafe with that stupid, cocky grin when you won in beer pong together.

"he's not my problem," you whispered to yourself, trying to believe it.

but sleep didn't come easy, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew you didn't really believe it.

you groaned softly as you rolled over, hearing the sound of retching echoing faintly through the house. it took you a moment to realise it wasn't a dream. you sat up, the blankets falling away, and rubbed your eyes. the groaning continued, louder now, pained and guttural.

"shit," you muttered under your breath, slipping out of bed and padding quietly down the hall.

when you reached the guest bedroom, the door was still slightly ajar, the faint glow of the hallway light spilling out into the bedroom. you hesitated for a second, then pushed it open fully.

rafe was on his knees in front of the toilet, his head half-buried in the bowl as he heaved again, his whole body shuddering with the effort. his shirt was bunched up at the back, and your eyes immediately landed on the massive bruise blooming along his left side. it was deep purple, almost black in the centre, fading to sickly yellow at the edges.

"jesus, rafe," you breathed, stepping closer with wide eyes.

he groaned, one hand clutching his ribs as he slumped back against the bath behind him, his head lolling to the side. his eyes flickered open, bloodshot and hazy, and they landed on you.

"y/n," he croaked, his voice raw and slurred. "what... what're you doing here?"

"what am i doing here? you're the one making enough noise to wake the dead," you said, kneeling down beside him slowly.

he winced, shifting slightly, and you could see the pain etched into his features. "feel like sshit," he mumbled, his words barely audible.

"yeah, no kidding," you muttered. you stood, grabbing a glass and filling it with water before handing it to him. "here. drink this. slowly."

he stared at the glass for a moment, like he couldn't quite comprehend what it was, then took it with a trembling hand.

"mmm," he mumbled. you took it as a thank you as he sipped the water, grimacing as he swallowed.

you sat back on your heels, watching him carefully. the bruise, the way he clutched his side, it wasn't from falling or bumping into something. it was too deliberate, too vicious.

"rafe..." you started, your voice hesitant. "what happened to your side?"

his eyes flicked to yours, sharp for a moment before they softened, his usual defences crumbling under the weight of exhaustion and whatever he'd been through. "don't worry 'bout it," he mumbled.

"don't tell me not to worry when you look like that," you snapped quietly, your voice harsher than you intended.

he flinched slightly, his gaze dropping to the floor. "jus'... had a disagreement, okay? nothin' new."

"with who? barry? your dad?" you pressed, your frustration bubbling over.

"does it matter?" he shot back, his voice hoarse but edged with bitterness.

you sighed, running a hand through your hair. "you can't keep doing this, rafe. you're going to destroy yourself."

he let out a bitter laugh, the sound hollow. "maybe i already have."

something in the way he said it made your chest tighten, like you could feel the weight of whatever he was carrying pressing down on you, too.

"you don't have to," you said softly, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

he looked at you then, really looked at you, his bloodshot eyes searching your face like he was trying to figure out if you'd meant it.

"why d'you care?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly as he locked eyes with you.

you opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out. why did you care? you weren't sure. maybe it was the way he looked so lost, or the fact that he was letting you see this side of him at all. maybe it was because, deep down, you knew that no one else would.

"i... don't know," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

he stared at you for a moment longer, then nodded slightly, like that answer made sense to him in a way it didn't to you.

you realised then, with a sinking feeling in your chest, that you wanted to help him. and that it might destroy you in the process.

notes ; thank you for readinggg !!

series taglist ; @rafegetinmybed @sqfewrd @dreamyy-cloud @vampteeth @wtfisastiles @flvredcas @plaidcowboy @sematarygirls @slut4you @kravitzwhore @daryldixon83 @lexavanhuelee @dorcas4meadowes @foolishangelic @i2rapunzel @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @rafestoothbrush @drewizz @6r4cie @akobx @seehowitshines @rafeswhoooreee @vbstrewbieri @waywarddiplomatfarmmonger-blog @ariivv01 @k4yr14 @ehhhitsaj @luvrcndy @domesticatedparadiiise @teleishachrisy @importantbeardcupcake @vanessa-rafesgirl ( lachesism taglist )

[rememberences]

♟

the rain hammered down, a relentless drumbeat on the stones of the yard, soaking through graham's tunic and chilling him to the bone. his blade trembled slightly as axell’s words hit harder than any strike could. the accusation—the insinuation—gnawed at him. axell, with his smirk and his venom, always knew how to twist the knife. graham held his ground, his jaw tight, his eyes burning despite the cold rain that dripped into them. how was it the tree had split and fractured in such a way, strangled by the weight of their mighty ancestors...how was it the brothers of runestone had all but burned the bridge they stood on?

“you think this is a game, axell?” graham growled, his voice low and steady, though there was a tremor in it, a fracture he couldn’t quite hide. his knuckles whitened on the hilt of his sword, the leather slick beneath his grip. he pointed the blade at his brother, closing the distance between them, his voice cutting through the storm. “you stand there, smug as ever, like none of this matters. like you don’t matter.” there was a mighty echo in his words, as though it were more than just graham speaking; as though it had always been more than just graham speaking. it were malcom, it were duncan, it were every man of house royce looking at the weak link. axell’s sneer was like a lash, his words deliberate and biting. grief is a weakness. graham could have laughed if it weren’t so damn bitter.

he knew grief too well—knew it could break a man or sharpen him. but this… this was not grief. axell’s indifference was a black pit, hollow and unnerving.

“weakness, you call it?” graham asked, stepping forward, steel raised but not striking - suddenly, this no longer appeared as though the brothers were sparring. this no longer seemed like practice. “you think you’re strong because you don’t care? because you hide behind that sneer and pretend nothing touches you? gods, axell. you’re not strong. you’re empty.” the word hung in the air, heavier than the rain, heavier than the steel that clashed between them. their blades locked again, the force of it jarring graham’s shoulder, but he held firm. his brother’s face was inches from his own now, the smirk still etched there like a taunt. “you need me to say it?” graham hissed, his breath visible in the cold.

“i do think you had something to do with her disappearance. your carelessness. the way you’ve made it so bloody easy for everyone to whisper about us. about you.”

he pushed axell back with a forceful shove of their blades, stepping back just enough to catch his breath. his chest heaved with the effort of the fight, but it was the weight of his words that truly drained him. the rain blurred the edges of his vision, but he didn’t look away from his brother, not for a moment. “but it’s not just her, is it?” graham continued, his voice quieter now, though no less intense. “it’s everything. it’s the way you laugh when the world’s on fire. the way you act like nothing matters. like we don’t matter.” his sword lowered slightly, though his grip didn’t relax. his shoulders sagged, just a fraction, the weariness catching up with him. he stepped back further, lowering his sword entirely now, though his eyes never left axell’s. “so you do what you must,” graham said, the edge returning to his voice.

“send your men. play your games. but if she doesn’t return—if this doesn’t end—I’ll make sure the whispers find their truth. and when they do, axell…” he trailed off, shaking his head. he didn’t finish the thought. he didn’t need to. the words hung between them like a blade, unsheathed and poised to strike. without another word, graham turned and strode away, the rain streaming off his armour as he left his brother standing alone in the yard. "but it doesn't change what i think of you. what all the family will think of you. you are a lost cause." there was a finality to his tone - as if to say, i know what you are.

.

the rain hammered down on the courtyard, turning stone to slick shadow and pooling in shallow rivulets at their feet. axell moved like a predator, his strikes powerful and deliberate, forcing graham to counter with a precision honed over years. graham's skill with the blade was undeniable and so was axell. the sharp clang of steel against steel echoed through the storm, the sound cutting through the sheets of water as if it were a language only they understood. despite the ferocity of their blows, neither pushed too far. they knew each other’s movements too well, a dance rehearsed since childhood—but this time, the stakes felt heavier, like a storm brewing beneath the surface of their sparring.

“dragging our name into whispers?” axell laughed. “it has never left the whispers. it’s always there” axell rolled his eyes. he raised his sword pointing it towards him. “you’re just lucky people tend to focus on what i do rather than what you do. you should be thanking me for taking the heat off of you” he smirked, perhaps just wanting to get a rise out of him.

the ghost of runestone rolled his shoulders as the rain streamed down his face, slicking his hair to his scalp. the sting of graham’s blade against his own vibrated up his arm, but it didn’t bother him. it never had. he smirked, just as his brother had accused, even as his muscles tensed beneath the force of the locked blades.

“and my wife?” he snorted. “let’s not pretend she was anything other than what she was. a convenience. a match made on parchment, i married here because you and ravella wanted me to. said she would be a good match yet she spoke to lords from other kingdoms as if she wasn’t wearing our name. if she ran, good riddance. if she was taken, then let someone else grieve her.” he sneered as he broke the lock between them.

axell lunged, steel crashing against graham’s sword in a calculated strike that forced their blades to lock once again. this time, he leaned in, close enough for his words to only be heard by him. “you think i’m unaffected?” his voice dropped, laced with venom. “maybe because i learned something long before you did. grief is a weakness, graham. and i can’t afford to be weak. would you like me to weep for her like a baby? to fling myself out the fucking moon door?” he laughed. “i am dealing with this my way. if she is out there my men will find her.”

he shoved hard, breaking the lock and stepping back, pointing his blade at graham’s chest. “so ask yourself, brother. what’s really bothering you? is it her disappearance—or….what? you think i did it. say it. come on i know you fucking want to. you think i killed her.”

[juyeoz]

I-N-L-O-V-E LIKE THE MOVIES — 006 : CLOCK OUT BITCH

SYNOPSIS — You loved the game Wordscapes and Jaehyun loved you. His long lasting crush was tiresome for his friends, you were only his classmate after all. Nevertheless, what other way was there for him to gain your attention other than playing your favourite game, Wordscapes? None. Well, completely ignoring the fact he wasn’t the best at word games.

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ILLTM TAGLIST — @shotaddicted @molensworld @jvngw0nlvr @livibbu @saritahwang @squiishymeow @veerooniicaa @iamsimplyasimp @s0shroe @kazemiya @rihaee @luceyyy2 @skuyafj @tkooooop @unhakki @dylanobr1ens @heewrld @stvrriki @aimonou @ellezra @peanutbutterjam505 @moonhuiz @cherrytaesan @hollxe1 @enzstr @ktzuki @heeheesang @httpenhoon @ilovedallywinston @letwiiparkjay @elegancefr @woorcve @miyawwn @soobiverse @lynnimini @dorritoni @tanghuyuj @somber-reads @tadadw @beomgyus-right-eyelash @heegyuworld

© JUYEOZ

[dyanahelp]

‼️No scrolling🚨‼️

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[cosycafune]

LOVE & DEEPSPACE MASTERLIST

S Y L U S: ✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

001: relentless conquerer

002| no escape zone: (series)

pt one:

pt two.

003| he’s always watching. (slight nsfw)

004| immobilised.

005| jealousy.

006: sinful devotion:

prologue.

007: love making.

008: can’t you handle your punishment, princess?

009| save your tears (sfw)

X A V I E R:

(art by sakimenz on patreon)

001: corruption.

002: loose strings/ 21 days. (sfw)

[kaitoflames]

não falou nada mais além do necessário a partir da entrada para as catacumbas. talvez não fosse algo considerado bom ou saudável, mas era extremamente familiarizado com ambientes fechados e claustrofóbicos, tendo a caverna dos deuses como o ponto principal de seus descansos, além de passar inúmeras horas enfurnado nas forjas a no bunker 9. kaito acreditava ter sido feito para espaços como esse e tinha resistência sobre-humana, por isso, demorava um pouco mais para sentir os efeitos das catacumbas já que muito se assemelhavam aos efeitos colaterais de se passar muito tempo nas forjas. com a diferença de que ali não havia fogo, apenas uma construção apertada. pensou consigo mesmo que fazia sentido que os ciclopes estivessem ali. da mesma maneira como ele estava acostumado com isso, estavam também as criaturas que um dia serviram ao seu pai. bem, isso despertava interesse. afinal, forjavam armas lendárias, então se fossem capazes de derrotá-los, talvez pudesse pegá-las para si.

o alerta de yasemin o fez extinguir sua chama. sendo guiado por seus comandos na caminhada no escuro, o espaço estreito logo se tornou uma abertura maior com sombras oriundas de uma fogueira. tochas bem posicionadas que deixavam o local com uma luz forte o suficiente para visualizarem o local, mas fraca se comparada a qualquer outra luz, especialmente pela ausência do sol e do brilho da lua. eles estavam, de fato, forjando. mas não todos. alguns mantinham sob guarda as duas amazonas que tinham os braços presos por correntes de ferro. a julgar pela expressão de dor estampada em ambas, ferro quente. cogitou que desejavam as armas especiais das amazonas, mas a julgar pelo protótipo cravado na parede rochosa, estavam construindo alguma coisa grande. alguma arma diferente. então queriam informação? talvez estivessem atrás de materiais diversos para derreter.

retirou a pequena corrente que carregava no pescoço, lentamente, fazendo com que se tornasse uma muito maior, e a manteve sem seus braços. quando olhou para trás, apontou com a cabeça para o ciclope que estava de guarda com uma das amazonas, e então, apontou para sua corrente. gesticulando, tentou indicar que iria distraí-los, para que todas pudessem atacar de surpresa. dois ciclopes estavam tentando forjar a tal arma, com grandes martelos brilhando envoltos em brasa, o outro explicava o modelo para esses dois. e então haviam os outros dois ameaçando as amazonas. cinco num total, em teoria, um para cada. não teve tempo de dar mais nenhum direcionamento. ao ver que um dos ciclopes havia erguido o braço para acertar a cabeça de uma das guerreiras, apenas avançou a passos rápidos. sua corrente se iluminou numa mistura de laranja e azul, que combinava perfeitamente com o brilho em seus olhos, e formou um contorno perfeito à arma, após isso, a ergueu, suspensa no ar, mas segurada. quando a arremessou, sua ponta se atrelou ao braço do ciclope, o que carregava seu martelo. o martelo caiu e seus braço foi para trás. o ciclope gritou, mas imediatamente quis revidar, então pisou na corrente. kaito foi puxado para frente. esperava que yasemin e @andrvna ainda estivessem bem, porque agora não tinha mais volta.

O mapa exposto e toda a situação faziam a mente de Yasemin não parar de pensar um segundo sequer na situação da qual estavam indo. Era um resgate supostamente simples, o que poderia dar errado? Ok, haviam ciclopes e andar por Paris na parte das catacumbas era algo perigoso, mas semideus e perigo já eram duas coisas atreladas naturalmente. Com as instruções e um caminho, a turca passou parte do caminho quieta e mais a trás do grupo, servindo mais como uma retaguarda para quaisquer eventos que pudessem acontecer no trajeto. Não foi uma ordem de Kaito, mas uma escolha pessoal sua apenas para apreciar um pouco da luz do dia antes de se enfiarem num local fechado e com chances de talvez nunca sair dali. Com o portão avistado, foi a última a passar e observar o a luz do dia torcendo para que a visse em breve novamente antes de entrarem de vez no escuro. Felizmente era agraciada com seus instintos de leoa e conseguia enxergar no escuro, mas levou um tempo até finalmente se adaptar a escuridão.

No entanto, sabia que para seus amigos não eram assim. A fala de Andrina para si demonstrou isso e no mesmo instante, a ruiva buscou na sua mochila de suprimentos uma lanterna e entregou para a amiga. ❝ ― Aqui, vai precisar mais do que eu. ❞ — Sorriu, soltando um suspiro e do outro lado Kaito também fez uso de seus poderes ao iluminar o caminho por onde estavam indo. O pedido dele para seguir a frente e notar qualquer alerta foi acatado. Pichações nas paredes, cheiro de mofo e coisa velha, o ar mais limitado e poeira. 20 metros abaixo de terra no inicio, ela se lembrou ao ver um documentário, depois... Totalmente incerto pois haviam vários níveis sobrepostos. Grupos de ativistas políticos, religiosos, artistas, aventureiros, usuários de drogas e vários outros serviam-se dos subterrâneos para seus propósitos. Muitas câmeras, salas, corredores, armadilhas para roubos, sequestros e perigos ainda piores. Para um semideus, estar ali, significava que podia ser a toca não apenas de ciclopes como de quaisquer outros monstros, o que deixou Yasemin em alerta o tempo todo. Os corredores eram longos e bem estreitos, o teto baixo e vez ou outra tinha vislumbre de câmaras da necrópole subterrânea, e até mesmo celas. Composto de pedregulhos e ossadas. E então começou, as entradas estreitas das quais precisam de espremer em buracos apertados, passagens apertadas entre paredes indo mais e mais fundo nas catacumbas. ❝ ― Espera. ❞

Pediu, se adiantando na frente do grupo ao ouvir um barulho suspeito. Pediu por silêncio para entender melhor, e pelas vozes, pareciam ser apenas humanos em alguma das câmeras festejando. ❝ ― Mortais. Vamos por aquele outro lado. Consigo ouvir algo a mais, mas está longe demais para identificar. ❞ — Apontou para outra entrada, um pequeno buraco na parede do qual passaram todos com dificuldade, mas então mais a frente ao caminharem, se depararam com um espaço com água de esgoto, os pingos sendo o que ela identificou ao se aproximarem mais, precisando ultrapassar pelas paredes apertadas, túneis e ainda lidarem com o mau cheiro até saírem em outro local. Aquela altura já não havia mais pichações nas paredes, o que significava que mortais não chegavam até aquele ponto. O que fazia sentido pelo ar se tornando ainda mais rarefeito. Isso lhe deixou preocupada, mas não revelou aos amigos. Certamente já estava todo mundo em tensão demais, quase palpável no ar. Entre pequenas pausas para descanso de cinco minutos numa área mais espaçada e prosseguiam pelo caminho no mapa das amazonas. Mais buracos e tuneis para rastejarem ou câmeras extremamente apertadas, ou locais para descer, tornando tudo ainda mais perigoso. Yasemin se preocupou em como iriam tirar as garotas dali, num desejo de que elas não estivesse tão feridas assim. Mentalmente Yas calculou que já estavam andando pelos túneis a cerca de, pelo menos, quatro horas. Foi quando finalmente ouviu ao longe conversas, definitivamente de monstros e o choro de garotas. A ruiva deu um sinal para todo mundo parassem, levando a mão para a lanterna de Andrina e ao braço de @kaitoflames, os fazendo extinguir qualquer sinal de que estivessem ali e fazendo o mesmo com as amazonas atrás de si, sussurrando em seguida: ❝ ― Cerca de 1km a frente, estão ali. ❞

[phoebeegreen3]

Capri Persson (F1) ― intro

🏎 𝙛1 𝙭 𝙘𝙖𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙨𝙤𝙣 ✨ 𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙢𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨

🏎 SUMMARY: What if the best driver of recent years isn't actually him? What if the best driver is actually hiding something else? Would he still be the best? Or just a simple fraud? 📓 GENRE: secret identity / rivals to lovers / he felt first, she felt harder / soulmates / slow burn 📬 PARTS: book one (two parts) / CP9, book two (one part) 🏆 CAPRIPERSSON.MASTERLIST

❛❛ Becoming champion was the least of their concerns. Finishing as runner-up, however, was a completely different story. Neither of them would ever allow themselves to be second place, and that was the real issue. Winning didn't matter-it was about not losing to the other. ❜❜

OFFICIAL TRANSLATION by Phoebe Green

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀

f1 x capripersson

𝕴 𝖓𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖗𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖆 𝖓𝖆𝖗𝖈𝖎𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖘𝖙 𝕭𝖚𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖞 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖒𝖊 𝕾𝖔 𝕴 𝖕𝖑𝖆𝖞 '𝖊𝖒 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖆 𝖛𝖎𝖔𝖑𝖎𝖓 𝕬𝖓𝖉 𝕴 𝖒𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖎𝖙 𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖐 𝖔𝖍 𝖘𝖔 𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖞

𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐲 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐛𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀

» ℑ𝔣 𝔞 𝔪𝔞𝔫 𝔱𝔞𝔩𝔨𝔰 𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔱, 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔫 ℑ 𝔬𝔴𝔢 𝔥𝔦𝔪 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤

ℑ 𝔡𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔯𝔢𝔤𝔯𝔢𝔱 𝔦𝔱 𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔟𝔦𝔱, '𝔠𝔞𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔥𝔢 𝔥𝔞𝔡 𝔦𝔱 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔤 «

・c h a r a c t e r s ・

CAPRI PERSSON

⤷ the ghost ― 9 〜 𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘱𝘪𝘰 〜 1999

MAX VERSTAPPEN

⤷ the number one ― 33 〜 𝘭𝘪𝘣𝘳𝘢 〜 1997

JEAN HENDERSON

⤷ my one and only ― 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳 〜 1987

JOHN BANNER 

⤷ the engineer ― aries 〜 1975

the rest of the 2023 grid, team directors and scuderias

✶ 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸 ✶

001 | 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝘆 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗶𝘁?⸺ 𝘁𝗮𝘆𝗹𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝘄𝗶𝗳𝘁

002 | 𝗶 𝗮𝗺 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗮 𝘄𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗻 𝗶'𝗺 𝗮 𝗴𝗼𝗱 ⸺ 𝗵𝗮𝗹𝘀𝗲𝘆

003 | 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 ⸺ 𝘁𝗮𝘆𝗹𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝘄𝗶𝗳𝘁

004 | 𝗮𝗯𝗯𝗲𝘆 ⸺ 𝗺𝗶𝘁𝘀𝗸𝗶

005 | 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗲𝗹𝘁 𝘀𝗼 𝗮𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗲 ⸺ 𝗹𝗮𝗯𝗿𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗵 𝗳𝘁 𝗯𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗲 𝗲𝗶𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵

006 | 𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲, 𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲, 𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗹𝗲𝘁 𝗺𝗲 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗶 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 ⸺ 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗺𝗶𝘁𝗵𝘀

007 | 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗺𝗮𝗱𝗲 𝗺𝗲 𝗱𝗼 ⸺ 𝘁𝗮𝘆𝗹𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝘄𝗶𝗳𝘁

008 | 𝗹𝗮𝗰𝘆 ⸺ 𝗼𝗹𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗮 𝗿𝗼𝗱𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗼

009 | 𝗹𝗮𝗯𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗵 ⸺ 𝘁𝗮𝘆𝗹𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝘄𝗶𝗳𝘁

010 | 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲 ⸺ 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗿𝘆 𝘀𝘁𝘆𝗹𝗲𝘀

011 | 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻' 𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗽𝗶𝗱 ⸺ 𝗳𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗸 𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗮𝘁𝗿𝗮

012 | 𝘁𝘄𝗼 𝘀𝗹𝗼𝘄 𝗱𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲𝗿𝘀 ⸺ 𝗺𝗶𝘁𝘀𝗸𝗶

013 | 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿 ⸺ 𝘀𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘅𝘀𝗶𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗲𝘀

014 | 𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝗺𝗮𝗿𝗲 ⸺ 𝗵𝗮𝗹𝘀𝗲𝘆

015 | 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗴𝗼𝗲𝘀 𝗼𝘂𝘁 ⸺ 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗺𝗶𝘁𝗵𝘀

016 | 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗿'𝘀 𝗱𝗮𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁𝗲𝗿 ⸺ 𝗱𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗲𝗻 𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗲

017 | 𝗱𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀 𝘁𝗶𝗲𝗱 ⸺ 𝘁𝗮𝘆𝗹𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝘄𝗶𝗳𝘁

018 | 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗹𝘆𝘇𝗲𝗱 ⸺ 𝗻𝗳

019 | 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗹𝗱 𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗲 ⸺ 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗺𝗶𝘁𝗵𝘀

020 | 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗶 𝗺𝗮𝗱𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿? ⸺ 𝗯𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗲 𝗲𝗶𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵

021 | 𝗰𝗹𝗮𝘀𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝟮𝟬𝟭𝟯 ⸺ 𝗺𝗶𝘁𝘀𝗸𝗶

022 | 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗿 ⸺ 𝘁𝗮𝘆𝗹𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝘄𝗶𝗳𝘁

023 | 𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗯𝗯𝗼𝗿𝗻 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 ⸺ 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗹𝘂𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗿𝘀

024 | 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸 ���𝗳 𝗺𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗲 ⸺ 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲

025 | 𝘀𝘄𝗲𝗲𝘁 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗽𝗼𝘀𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 ⸺ 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗲𝗺𝗽𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗽

026 | 𝗳𝗶𝘅 𝘆𝗼𝘂 ⸺ 𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗱𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆

027 | 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝗲𝘅𝗰𝗲𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 ⸺ 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲

028 | 𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝗯𝗲𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 ⸺ 𝗱𝗷𝗼

029 |𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗻𝗲𝘄 ⸺ 𝘁𝗮𝘆𝗹𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝘄𝗶𝗳𝘁

030 | 𝘄𝗮𝘀𝗵 ⸺ 𝗯𝗼𝗻 𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗿

031 | 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 ⸺ 𝘁𝗮𝘆𝗹𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝘄𝗶𝗳𝘁

032 | 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗼 𝘂𝗻 𝗴 ⸺ 𝗿𝗼𝘀𝗮𝗹𝗶𝗮

033 | 𝗱𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀 ⸺ 𝘁𝗮𝘆𝗹𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝘄𝗶𝗳𝘁

034 | 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝘃𝗲𝗻 ⸺ 𝗯𝗿𝘆𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝗱𝗮𝗺𝘀

035 | 𝘀𝗼 𝗶𝘁 𝗴𝗼𝗲𝘀 ⸺ 𝘁𝗮𝘆𝗹𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝘄𝗶𝗳𝘁

036 | 𝗻𝗼 𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗽𝗿𝗶𝘀𝗲𝘀 ⸺ 𝗿𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗼𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗱

037 | 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗹 𝗯𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ⸺ 𝘀𝗶𝗮

038 | 𝗰𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗰𝗿𝘂𝗺𝗯𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 ⸺ 𝘁𝗮𝘆𝗹𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝘄𝗶𝗳𝘁

039 | 𝗽𝗲𝗼𝗽𝗹𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗽 𝘁𝗼 𝗽𝗲𝗼𝗽𝗹𝗲 ⸺ 𝗯𝗶𝗿𝗱𝘆

040 | 𝗯𝗼𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗶𝗮𝗻 𝗿𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘀𝗼𝗱𝘆 ⸺ 𝗾𝘂𝗲𝗲𝗻

041 | 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝘆 ⸺ 𝗳𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗸 𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗮𝘁𝗿𝗮

042 | 𝗶 𝗱𝗶𝗱 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗯𝗮𝗱 ⸺ 𝘁𝗮𝘆𝗹𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝘄𝗶𝗳𝘁

»NEXT: CAPRI PERSSON'S NEWS

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

First of all, I want to officially welcome you to this space. Personally, this is my first time posting on this platform, so I’m still getting used to the environment—coming from the Wattpad community in search of new horizons and new spaces to share my stories.

This is the official English translation of the fanfic originally published on Wattpad at the end of 2023, titled Capri Persson, which was originally written in Spanish.

English is not my first language, so any grammar or spelling suggestions you may have based on your own experience will be received with genuine gratitude and appreciation.

If you enjoy what you read, don’t forget to engage with the content so more readers can discover it—and support this slightly obsessed author.

With all my love.

Phoebs.